Sunday, June 19, 2016

Catching Up after an Hiatus...

Greetings and Lamentations, I AM (still) Lord Malignance and you Will CROUCH! before me.
(Villains excluded, of course)

It's been awhile from blogging, and this reflects the work ongoing with METACOSMOS. One had originally done 5years of Hero Bashing, and intended to do 5years of This, but already, 2 years in, there is little to show. Miiiight move the project deadline out 2 years, have to see how much enjoyment it has (and it really Should have quite a bit).

When last One checked in, the Strange Energy Emanations from Beneath the Earth's Surface had been tracked down to alien communication between Lizardmen from the Earth's Core and whatever alien beings lay hidden beyond Earth's atmosphere. What happened after that has remained a mystery - until now.

One found an opening under NORAD, and sent a cadre of Malignobots down into the depths to - well, do the only thing Malignobots Do, and slaughter them all. This was done with the Malignobots having wiped themselves out in somewhat larger than expected friendly fire incidents. One has a truckload of parts to try and reassemble a few of them, should the opportunity arise.

More importantly, there Were three survivors, which One has managed to keep alive long enough to heal and return to health. One calls them LaPierre, Heston, and the Moe, and for ease of understanding, their species is named the NRAliens (because of their long term plans to push guns and humanity's extinction).

Some things about them. Their culture is hierarchical, or it's a process of biology, but the two - Heston and LaPierre defer to the Moe for their loyalties. It's why, for shorthand, One has named him the Moe. And that's not to say they don't Have a language and names for themselves, it merely facilitates communication. They understand English entirely well, and can make some English sounds (no M - they haven't the lips for it, etc). They eat Lettuce quite happily, and other leafy vegetables, and rodents, felines, marsupials, mammals of any kind. Mostly lettuce.

Most important though, is that One acquired quite a bit of their technology, which has frustratingly been determined to be somewhat based on ferns (One is calling it Ferntech). Both motiffs and on the biological processes of the plants - a sort of chemical/electrical liquidic transfer method. While their technology doesn't appear compatible with Malignanceshp, they are quite mechanically minded, and have been busily upgrading the ship with their advanced technical knowledge of Earth technologies and their knowledge of various sciences. It hasn't been easy mind you - but if you squeeze the Moe, his hench get moving. One has bolted a remote controlled C-4 explosive package to his head to make this clear to him. And they Hate me. And Humanity. But they now accept that their own culture has sent them here on a fool's errand, and they would like to be free of it.

Not surprisingly, they're Huge Trump supporters. There's something there that they're not telling me either.

One can't manage it all myself, so One put an add into Craig's list for a new Hench (there's a section for Villains if you know where to look. It links into the Darkweb, so have your bitcoins ready, and your firewall and proxies prepared). He's a small person, and Fiercely French. Together, me in my white lairwear and him next to me, we have been called Mr. Roark and Tattoo. Once. He's still being groomed for the role of Hench, and has not yet received his identity. One is an equal opportunity employer - he gets no special treatment except for what he needs to do his job. And he comes quite talented with an earlier service in Le Dossier Noir of the  French Foreign Legion. He can also cook eggs, which is something One has never mastered.

For those keeping track of my former Hench, Bob the Minion is still in Juarez (one suspects) doing what he does, hiding it behind all the other activities that go on. Because of the uniqueness of his style, One would Think there would be news (there was in Idaho when he was up there, and One had methods here to conceal his zeal), so One supposes he serves a powerful cartel that controls the media in town.

Ghost of Nixon is still prevented from associating with a certain class of people due to parole restrictions. One wishes him well on the Straight and Narrow.

Malignanceship Has done atmospheric testing - it actually Does fly, but it burns liquid fuel furiously, and is just an unmanageable nightmare in the air. It's like trying to fly a skyscraper, with all the aerodynamic liabilities. It's BIG and slow, and wobbly, and steers like a battering ram. To rectify these limitations (because the thought of atmospheric reentry from near Earth's orbit is terrifying) One has embarked on a revamp of those systems and also the control systems. Instead of a dozen Enslaved Scientists running the flight systems simultaneously, One is engineering S.U.tech the Lair AI to take over these functions. The computers are being upgraded to accommodate this, his software is being arduously rewritten in Arch Linux, and the command center has been gutted to the bulkheads and is being redesigned. The NRAliens have had some input in this process, which has been helpful.

The QTPI (Quantum Tunneling Protocol Interface) tied into the Malignoscope (encrypted skype basically) has produced more weird results as you might expect. The best science we have on it, is that it reads probability like streams of data. Some people, events, and dates have data that can be examined, some more than others. It's flashes of data - images, texts, video after a fashion. And while it seems to demonstrate possible futures, it Also has been found to be wrong. Or as is more likely, correct in an alternate reality, but not the reality we exist within. M-theory tells us that we may be experiencing reality as a bubble, or as if in the many layered skin of an onion. Trump is wildly rich in data in this, and as One has pointed out - he's really a mindless body being controlled by an other dimensional Cthulhic horror that rides upon his head, and drives the body to walk around and do its fell bidding and talk its accursed words. The Dark Old One is up to something probably pretty horrible for the Earth.

The Galt's Gulch Space Center also has had to be upgraded with my plans to build and launch Malignanceship from their site. It's been hidden in Colorado for almost two centuries, and has been a haven for scientists, engineers, inventors, great thinkers, crackpots, and mad scientists, inspiring Ayn Rand to write about the location in 1957 in her book "Atlas Shrugged". The site goes back much earlier though than Rand's veiled revelations. The site was originally funded by President John Quincy Adams based on theories proposed by John C. Symmes 47 years before Colorado became the 38th state. At that time, it was a great concern to people that the Earth was hollow, and populated by peaceful Molemen. In a turn of coincidence, it would eventually be determined to be Lizardmen sent here from beyond the Earth after the first Atomic Nuclear tests in the 1940s. From this clandestine presidential mandate decades earlier to the official founding of the community by Midas Mulligan that was to become Galt's Gulch, the site has always been a haven for forward thinking adventurers, and an oasis for Villains.

One intends to launch Malignanceship into Earth's orbit and track any nearby sources of these strange communications that continue unanswered now to the Earth. The NRAliens were communicating with their Hierarchy - those that drive their people and enslave them to these tasks, and One would see this Hierarchy Crouch! for their actions against My Colorado. And the rest of the world One cares nothing about.

Galt's Gulch though, in Ourey Colorado, is already dauntingly hot. Far too hot to go outside in, buried in my helmet as One is. So this does slow some of the work. Designing and building MaligKnight robots (originally as Malignobot repairbots) as shipwrights. The works is slow, but rewarding.

One hopes to have more updates soon, and to Lauch Malignanceship before to soon (it's already two years late as it is).

-Lord Malignance
June, 2016

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