You want Subnautica

Time Raider video games: looter shooters full of dirty jokes, crpgs full of political commentary, racing games full of paid cosmetics.

Memonek video games: fully deterministic puzzles, often involving physics or trivia.

Hakaan video games: sports games where good teamwork is the most important element. Every year, a new free DLC is added with the current lineup.

I’m playing as Memory of a Dreamt Revelation

The Serpent Lord’s domain was too far away to reach quickly by foot. Fortunately, Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had a contact in the rail workers union. The Brass Hand arrived at Veronis’ freight rail station, Memory of a Dreamt Revelation offered the foreman free labour for transport, and they were off. With two conditions: no time magic on the train, for locomotives in the world of Tempris are powered not by steam, but by time. And no character developing conversations after 9pm. The workers need to sleep!

As the train slowly pulled into the station at Cragalin, the Brass Hand spotted a crowd of people with notebooks at the ready outside. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation stood and waved to them, and that caused many to start frantically writing. Penny and Nickel explained that many decades prior, Cragalin had fought a war of secession from the city of Chronopolis. The Brass Hand had declared neutrality in the conflict, and in response, Eluran had resigned from the Brass Hand to serve in the war anyway, as a medic. The people of Cragalin viewed Eluran as a hero, and the Brass Hand as villains.

Memory of a Dreamt Revelation suggested making a formal apology for the Brass Hand’s inaction in the conflict, but the other party members didn’t think that was a good idea. They wanted to start their relationship with Cragalin off on a positive note. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation retorted, “Look outside, they’ve already formed an opinion of us. We need to do damage control.” But they allowed Penny to step outside first and take the lead. Unfortunately for Penny, she couldn’t say whatever she planned to say. As soon as the Brass Hand stepped onto the platform, they were swarmed with questions, the reporters shouting too loudly to get a word in edgewise-

I stopped the Director. And informed him that I have the Engrossing Monologue perk. When Memory of a Dreamt Revelation shouts, everyone within ten squares listens for one minute. His NPCs can’t railroad Me. I’m railroading him!

“We come on behalf both of the Brass Hand, and of Eluran, who personally selected us as his heirs. We come to make a formal apology for the Brass Hand’s past inaction, and to commend Eluran for his heroic and selfless deeds in service to Cragalin. In the spirit of that service, we bring a warning: The Serpent Lord is in danger. We will journey to the Serpent Lord’s domain and defend it, for the people of Cragalin.”

As they gave that speech, the mood in the crowd shifted. The tabloid writers sighed and put down their notebooks, knowing they couldn’t publish any of the libel they had planned. The bystanders who didn’t yet have an opinion nodded along, deciding that the Brass Hand couldn’t be that bad. At the monologue’s conclusion, the journalists eager to publish the scoop first rushed off. A man pushed his way to the front of a crowd and asked Penny (and only Penny) how she hoped to live up to her grandfather’s legacy. She answered with humility and determination, sealing the city’s approval of the new Brass Hand. And the party gave individual interviews until the foreman ordered the journalists to clear off the private property and make way for cargo.

The party decided to spend an hour in the city before heading off to the Serpent Lord’s domain. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation went to a jeweller in search of obsidian lenses to repair an old heirloom. Penny, the only one who had been to the desert before, bought supplies and lots of water. Nickel and Arava saw the sights. They watched the folk hand ores to the Ant Lord’s worker drones, clockwork ants the size of large dogs. And they admired the statue of Eluran at the fountain in the center of town, while Nickel reflected on the feelings of uncertainty and anxiety they had had ever since Eluran died. Penny comforted them. And then it was time to set off.

Reply if you want to hear what they found in the domain of the Serpent Lord.

Yeah, and I remember you asking what it means to be treated as human vs otherkin - well I think I gave a good example of that in the comments of the c/transspecies post. I was more willing to treat an otherkin’s request for dracofication as consent to use magic than a human’s. With a human, I would have been more careful to check what was being asked.

In the days before the ball, Memory of a Dreamt Revelation visited the homeless shelters in Veronis, asking the staff about anyone who might be preying on the local homeless community, offering work that’s too good to be true. Those Harvestmen were poor and desperate, willing to say yes to anything that promised a bit of cash. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation got a list of about a dozen possible suspect descriptions, and gave the list to the Brass Hand before the ball.

The Brass Hand didn’t fit in at all among high society. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had the social graces to avoid attracting attention, and absolutely no interest in using them among this crowd. They showed up in a 100-year-old dress, once the height of fashion, now covered in holes and muck from being worn through all manner of hard labour and not taken care of. Most of their clothes are decades old and have been lovingly repaired, accented with revolutionary style. Not this one.

The rest of the party began attempting to make discrete enquiries, and although the list of suspects was narrowed down, every move drew looks and whispered comments. As the elf, polder, dwarf, dryad, chronodrone, and half-dragon drew more attention, their efforts to conduct their mission without causing more problems became more difficult. At last, they found their quarry: A wode elf named Opal Viridian, leaving the party early. But just as Nickel spotted her through the crowd, the guards began to approach, doubtless to question the troublemakers and waste precious hours, perhaps even arrest them.

Zala, the dwarf tactician, acted first. She shoved the guards and ran past them, distracting them so the rest of the party could make an expeditious retreat. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation decided to distract and disorganise the guards by jumping up on a table and reciting their antirealist manifesto at the top of their lungs, preventing anyone in the ballroom from coordinating. When the rest of the Brass hand were safely out of the building, Zala and Memory of a Dreamt Revelation made a run for the window, guards occasionally popping out of reality near them and reapparearing confused in the adjoining rooms. Zala jumped through the window, landed six stories below covered in lacerations and broken glass, and caught Memory of a Dreamt revelation safely in her arms.

The party tracked down Opal Viridian having dinner at a restaurant and negotiated with her for information on the plot to attack the Squirrel Lord. She revealed that she had been contacted by a man who wished only to be known as “Visor”. Visor had asked for money, and promised a tenfold return on her investment. To her surprise, he delivered. And said that if she invested again, he could increase the money by another order of magnitude. Visor’s next target? The Serpent Lord, near the desert city of Cragalin.

Reply if you want to know what happened in Cragalin.

After catching their breath, Memory of a Dreamt Revelation roused a few of the Harvestmen they had knocked unconscious. As soon as they awoke, they were barraged with questions about what precisely they had seen while dismantling the beast. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had chosen politics in the end, but still had a formidable mind for archaeo-engineering. Sadly, the Harvestmen were as ignorant as they were scared. “We don’t know nothing, we swear! It was our boss who had the plan!” They gestured over towards one of the wode elves the other party members had beheaded. “All we know is what that rich woman told us, about there being a chance to make some money here.”

Meanwhile, Nickel the Chronodrone, built by Eluran to study situations such as this, was examining the Squirrel Lord’s damage. Turns out, the hull plating of the Gear Lords is incredibly strong. The Harvestmen must have been drilling into it for hours, and they had only managed to uncover a single inner component: its memory core. Nickel detached the memory core carefully, and the Brass Hand decided to head back to Veronis for more information.

Back at the Brass Hand headquarters, they plugged the memory core into some of Eluran’s old equipment, and took a look at the Squirrel Lord’s most recent memory. It had been peacefully scurrying around the forest, when a man in a cloak, wearing a visor, had approached. A visor resembling the ocular sensors of the Time Raiders, yet the man had only two hands, so he couldn’t be one of them. He had laid some kind of device at the Squirrel Lord’s feet, backed away, and then there had been some kind of explosion… And nothing. End of recording.

The man in the visor was a difficult person to pursue given so few clues, but Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had an idea: the rich woman. If she lived in Veronis, she could be tracked down. All they would need is access to the financial elite of the city. And Nickel was able to lean on Eluran’s connections to secure an invite to the biggest ball of the year.

Reply if you want to know what they found at the ball.

This is an incredibly transspecies thing to post

Awww, thanks!

The six new members of the Brass Hand ventured north, and it was not difficult to find the Squirrel Lord’s domain. After a few hours of walking, they came face to face with a bird, frozen in mid-air, wings outstretched in flight. The trees were silent and deathly still, and their roots showed signs of blight, which Memory of a Dreamt Revelation’s companion, Arava the Dryad, bristled at. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation picked up a stone from the ground and threw it. Upon leaving their hand, it instantly froze in the air, at the precise position that their finger had ceased contact with it. Curious, they took a stone from their ammunition pouch and threw that one, too. It travelled normally and struck a tree, exactly as it normally would. Finally, they took out a tinderbox, gathered some kindling from the forest floor, and lit a fire. The fire burned, but its smoke did not rise. Over the few seconds they allowed it to burn, the smoke gathered in a frozen cloud around the flame, yet the fire continued to grow as normal.

The Brass Hand began exploring the field of frozen time, searching for the center. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation helped the search by analysing the pattern of frozen time and try and find a gradient of some sort to the effect. Arava used her knowledge of the forest and its life. Penny, Eluran’s granddaughter, projected a field of normalised reality to protect the party from any timestop-induced magical fatigue. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation kept the party too distracted with talk to become aware of their exhaustion. Eventually, they found the Squirrel Lord.

The giant clockwork beast, seen almost as a life-giving god to many of the people of this world, was frozen in time. Its position, reeling back as if struck by a brutal blow. Surrounding it were two dozen wode elves. Standing tall, with bat ears curling up from their heads to reach higher than the tops of their heads. By their dress and equipment, clearly Harvestmen; scavengers of ancient technology, willing to risk what most would not in the pursuit of knowledge and power. They had a massive drill, and were breaking their way through the Squirrel Lord’s thick outer plating, doubtless to harvest its innards.

In an instant, both groups noticed the other, and could not mistake their intentions. Everyone knew there was no choice but to DRAW STEEL!

Ryuushim the Fury, resembling a human with the claws, tail, and wings of a dragon, transformed fully into a dragon. Zala the Dwarf Tactician leapt alone into the fray, surrounding herself with targets to dispatch. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation darted in and out of the frontline with their spear, disorienting the enemy and drawing their attention. Nickel the Chronodrone began rewinding and replaying time, causing enemies to miss, and allies to hit twice. Arava threw elemental chaos into their formations and dispensed healing to the party. Penny held the line with the strength of her fists, but began to be overwhelmed and pulled out of formation. The Harvestmen fought with contraptions that seemed as much magic as clockwork, like a sword with a winching handle that caused it to grow to absurd size.

When the party were overwhelmed and running out of stamina to defend themselves, many bleeding or grabbed, Memory of a Dreamt Revelation shouted to the surrounding heroes, “You’re stronger than you think! Forget your injuries and attack now!” Wounds began to knit themselves closed as the party moved with impossible speed. Many of the attacks opened the way to press the advantage and attack again. Ryuushim carved her way through the ranks like a bolt of lightning, while Memory of a Dreamt Revelation used their sling to launch stones at Harvestman heads. In a few moments more, the battle was won. The Squirrel Lord was safe, but still frozen, and still wounded.

Reply if you want to know what happened to the Squirrel Lord.

Memory of a Dreamt Revelation spent the next three years mainly in seclusion, doing as many high elves tend to do for much of their lives: thinking and writing. At the conclusion of the three years, they had two things: a manifesto and a plan. A plan to introduce the radical concepts they had decided upon not through argument, rhetoric, or political action. But through tales of heroism. They would become a famous hero who used antirealism as a weapon to vanquish evil. The stories that would be sung of them for generations would be political propaganda.

But becoming a famous hero is a difficult process. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had no quests, no party, and little in the way of resources. So they decided to go find a mentor. A very well known beginning to the classic hero’s journey. Unfortunately, most of the heroes they remembered from song and story growing up were dead. That’s the thing about being a high elf, you stop paying attention to celebrity gossip for a few years and all the celebrities you know dies of old age. Fortunately, there lived in Veronis a high elf hero by the name of Eluran. Eluran was still alive… Probably.

Eluran had been for many years the leader of a heroic organisation called the Brass Hand. The Brass Hand was dedicated solely to doing good works in the world. Unfortunately, its influence had waned in recent years due to a PR disaster. Eluran had foretold the end of the world, and on the appointed date, it did not come. After that, people started leaving. The city didn’t trust Eluran anymore. But the old man had still been plenty wealthy, and in his old age he had been investing his money in charitable works. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation had met him on several occasions over the last few decades, picking up donated food for the Cobblestones. So they weren’t about to let a failed prophecy get in the way of their quest to become a hero.

And as Memory of a Dreamt Revelation stepped into the headquarters of the Brass Hand, they saw Eluran laying down on a bed, surrounded by his few remaining family and friends, dying. His last will: to leave the Brass Hand and all of its resources to the six people with him at the moment of his death. Upon only one condition: that together they go to the domain of the Squirrel Lord to investigate a temporal anomaly.

Reply if you want to hear about the quest to the Squirrel Lord’s domain.

I have a blog where I talk about nerd shit that interests Me. Mostly antirealism and science fiction. My newest article is about a ttRPG system called Draw Steel and its unreal game mechanics. And when I was writing it, I thought about telling a story from the campaign I’m playing in, but decided it would be too indulgent.

SO NOW YOU HAVE TO SUFFER THROUGH IT!

Memory of a Dreamt Revelation is a high elf from the city of Veronis. Yes, their name is Memory of a Dreamt Revelation. All high elf names are like that, because high elves are never pressed for time. You can call them Revelation if you must, but I won’t. Memory of a Dreamt Revelation’s parents expected them to go into the old family business of archaeo-engineering. See, they’re both scholars who study the giant clockwork animals who tend to the landscape and make this artificial world under a mechanical sky habitable.

But Memory of a Dreamt Revelation is a very social sort, and unlike their parents, made friends at university. Human friends, mostly. They began to see life from a more human perspective: fast, confusing, and desperate. Humans are always pressed for time. So Memory of a Dreamt Revelation became interested in politics, and graduated with a degree in social justice instead of mechanical archaeology.

They volunteered with many local anarchist organisations, mostly a group called the Cobblestones. They fed the hungry, squatted with the homeless, threw bricks at cops, taught the peasants to use weapons, and fell in love. With a human who wanted to be a clockwork robot, named Kaya. But Veronis has no words or philosophy to soothe a soul unhappy with the species of its body. Kaya couldn’t bear the pain. And eventually, they committed suicide.

Memory of a Dreamt Revelation’s heart was broken. Not by Kaya, but by the society that let Kaya die. The cobblestones gave them food, a roof over their head, physical safety. But not the validation of their being they so desperately needed. Realist anarchism couldn’t help Kaya. So Memory of a Dreamt Revelation abdicated all responsibility and duty, to invent a new anarchism. An anarcho-antirealism.

Reply if you want to hear the next chapter of the story.

profiting even a couple hundred bucks off the AI bubble feels like taking blood money.

Think of it as scamming an AI bro out of a couple hundred bucks.

Good is anything I personally like

Are Chuck Tingle’s books actually good in terms of being compelling love stories?

I want that psychologist to have a nightmare where a doctor tells him “Oh, you’re attracted to women? Don’t you think it would be easier to meet women if you were one of them?” And then performs a forced genital reassignment surgery on him.

That’s a new ball every serve

Electronic devices often have potentiometers that let you calibrate them with a screwdriver. If I were designing a human, I’d give it potentiometers, or a chemical equivalent, to make maintenance easier. So if you become insulin resistant, we can just open you up and turn a screw to reduce your resistance.

But the human body wasn’t designed to be repaired. It evolved to self-repair. Its systems are all based on the assumption of live adaptation to the situation, they’re self calibrating. We can’t manually adjust the calibration, it wasn’t made with those interfaces. Insulin receptors don’t have potentiometers.

So all of the hacks we’ve built to repair the human body are live fixes, the same as its own mechanisms. We adjust the insulin upwards to counter the resistance the same as the body does. Or reduce the rate at which blood sugar is released so less storage is needed. Those treatments need constant intervention because the human body is designed for constant adaptation.

Or we can just replace the part like we would with a machine that isn’t designed to be calibrated. Which is hard work.

So if you plug the same device into a different network using the same port, it’s the same MAC?

I like telling them “My start menu? I don’t have a start menu, I’m running Arch Linux.”