Baxil [bakh-HEEL'], n.
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Below are the 7 most recent journal entries recorded in the "Baxil" journal:
04:12 pm
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Writing Quicktakes: Escape from Below A quicktake from the recent Writing Requests thread. More are on the way; read the others via the above link or my microfic tag. Thank you all again for your creative kickstarts. :-)
As with my other quicktakes, bonus trivia is in the comments (as an incentive to click through).
That hollow knock again, a burst of sound from every direction, inside and out. William woke with a start. Pressed up against the window, lit only by the almost-glow of his radium-handed wristwatch, were the eyes of an inhuman face.
Adrenaline sheared through his bloodstream, and he jerked backward, smacking his head against the curved steel wall of his tiny prison. Color exploded into his vision.
Blind, William fumbled under his seat for the reassuring chill of the two-foot iron rod. The hatch had a habit of sticking shut once back on the surface; that had been his excuse for stowing a prybar in the bathysphere when he went down. But really, it was a psychological tool. Stuck in a tiny circle of steel amid miles of open water, William found it all too easy to feel helpless, and having a weapon to hold -- as useless as it was -- gave him back a sense of control.
The colors spread, danced, and cleared only gradually; departed, and left the merman at the porthole behind.
Oh. Them. William's heart started to beat again.
William put down the prybar and groped for the electrical connectors at his right. As his fingers found the wire, he reflexively glanced at his watch face. The glowing hands formed a perfect corner, rigid, perpendicular, the only sharp angle in the cramped globe of the bathysphere: nine o'clock. Huh, William thought. There was something about nine o'clock, teasing at the edges of his memory, but it didn't seem pressing -- a merman was back.
( (2,000 words) )
Current Location: ~/computer_desk Current Mood: awake Current Music: "Metal Gear Uh Oh! The Beat Have Started To Move" OC Remix Tags: microfic, ttu, writing
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04:11 pm
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Writing Quicktakes: The Winchester Experiment A quicktake from the recent Writing Requests thread. More are on the way; read the others via the above link or my microfic tag. Thank you all again for your creative kickstarts. :-)
As with my other quicktakes, bonus trivia is in the comments (as an incentive to click through).
That night, the sun rose, reddening the cloud-studded sky.
Wearing uneasy expressions, the assembled scientists considered it. "Gentlemen," Winchester said soothingly, "I can assure you my team's safety standards are the strictest possible, and experimental modeling has concluded there was no danger whatsoever from what we just saw. We'll study the effect, but there's no reason for concern." Then, almost offhandedly: "Cassie, hit the lab's circuit breaker."
"I hope this isn't an omen of worse to come," Donovan blurted out.
"Winchester," Cassie said urgently from behind the control panel, "it's still on."
"I know," Winchester -- still seated -- said in a controlled voice.
Cassie pressed some buttons. The console lights dimmed into standby.
"Doctor Winchester, nothing remotely like this was in any of the analyses!" Vorga shouted.
"Are you sure?" Cassie asked. "Let me check."
"I don't mean to alarm you," Donovan said, "but I think the machine's still running."
"Er ... no?" Cassie said, looking confused.
Suddenly, the illumination winked out. They all looked around uncertainly, eyes adjusting to the soft glow of the control panel and the colorful limn around the isotope in the test chamber. Then, from O'Toole: "Just to be clear. You turned that off, right?"
As if in answer, the isotope's glow turned from green to a menacing red. Then, with a flash of noise that sounded like cotton candy and rotten eggs, the color burst outward through the clouds.
But, incredibly, nothing seemed to change. "Cut power! Cut power!" Vorga shouted.
Cassie got up and wildly swung her fist at the large red cutoff button. It slammed back into the console.
There was a loud subsonic thump that jarred their bones, and a shower of sparks.
As one, the scientists leapt up and scrambled backward -- except for Winchester, who was already against the back wall, staring at his colleagues in the manner of a priest who caught children vandalizing the church. In the chaos, Cassie smacked into Donovan; O'Toole went down in a tangle of folding chairs; and Makunouchi tripped, his foot caught in a loop of cable. The regulator's cord popped out from its socket.
Every head in the room turned. Cloudy, transparent glows -- as if the air itself was afire, in a pale, sickly green -- had puffed from the isotope, billowed past the thick quartz shielding as if it wasn't even there, and were rolling outward at them.
"Something's escaping the isolation chamber!" Donovan shouted, pointing.
"Wait, no, it's alright," Cassie said, looking more relieved. "That's what our projections said it would do."
The isotope's glow turned the shade of freshly cut grass.
"Okay, we weren't expecting that," Cassie confided, worry creeping into her tone.
The room went dark again. As everyone blinked to adjust their eyes, the isotope's glow quickly increased again to its normal levels.
"At this point," Winchester said with a satisfied tone, "the isotope has just finished charging. That was the end of the show. Everything else will be a matter of ensuring energy is appropriately distributed to match the observed effects, within the parameters predefined by the experiment."
As the isotope's glow grew to the edge of painful intensity, the circle of light behind the test chamber winked out.
"Yes," Cassie said, looking at Winchester. "All readings so far have matched exactly the simulations we ran."
"Are you really sure this is safe?" Donovan asked.
"Nope," Winchester said, smiling.
The isotope's glow doubled. The lenses focusing its light whirred into a new orientation to compensate.
"Not much longer now," Cassie told O'Toole, eyeing the wall clock.
"Well, Mark," Winchester said, fixing his eyes on the worried-looking Donovan. "Note the isotope is now discharging stored power. That's why there's no danger of overload; nothing's being added to the system until after it's done. You'll see us charge it later."
"And when should your demonstration end? Or," O'Toole said with a smile, "as the case may be, begin."
"Heh," Winchester chuckled.
"Mark," Donovan said, glancing at the wall clock himself.
The scientists felt a slight tug against their bodies, though it didn't move or unbalance them. Later, in interviews, with the benefit of hindsight, they'd realize it wasn't in any of the directions they could point.
"Mark," Winchester said, consulting a watch. Then he turned to Donovan. "What's your name, sir?"
The isotope began glowing with a soft orange hue. The lenses inside the test chamber shifted to focus its light through the chamber's solid quartz sides, and projected the light into a small circle against the far wall, where sensors were set up to record its intensity.
"Pay him no mind," Doctor O'Toole said. "I think this should be interesting. When does the show start?"
"Oh, please, doctor," Makunouchi said, rolling his eyes.
"I'm not sure I like this," Doctor Donovan said. "While I appreciate all of the care you've put into safety, can we even contemplate what might happen in the event of an overload?"
"That's what we came here to see," Doctor Makunouchi said cheerfully.
"Certainly," Winchester said. "We've isolated a source of pure tachyons, a particle with positive weight in the fourth-dimensional axis. By bombarding the isotope with carefully controlled gamma ray bursts -- which we will do, in our frame of reference, after the experiments -- we can induce the source to reverse polarity, leading to carefully controlled localized time reversals."
"Good afternoon, Winchester, Cassie. Doctor, would you mind summarizing the project for our visitors?" Research Director Vorga asked.
"I don't know," Cassie said. She straightened. "Here they come."
"For the last time, Cassie," Doctor Winchester said, "it'll be fine."
Current Location: ~/brainstorm Current Mood: devious Current Music: David Bowie, "Space Oddity" Tags: microfic, writing
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05:56 pm
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Writing Quicktakes: Legislative complaints A quicktake from the recent Writing Requests thread. More are on the way. Thank you all again for your creative kickstarts. :-)
Dear Citizen,
Thank you for your submission about politician Rand-231. We value all feedback and are constantly trying to make your civic engagement more meaningful. We take all claims of product defects very seriously. Your report has been examined and automated testing has been completed, and we would like to confirm that Rand-231 is working correctly and as designed. In order to address your specific concerns, our technical support system has automatically reproduced several items from our list of Frequently Asked Questions. If you feel you have concerns that have not been addressed, please open another support request, reference your prior request number (#27B-6/10984262001) in the submission, and one of our technical support agents will contact you.
Best Regards,
Eliza Sharopnikel Diebold-Halliburton-Meshuggener Automated Feedback Response Team support@robosenate.gov
---
Thank you for submitting your request to our Frequently Asked Questions Retrieval System. Your original request follows for your reference. FAQ responses are automatically chosen via matching of keywords in your request. For the complete FAQ, visit dev.robosenate.gov and click on "FAQ."
Original Message: > you damn godless commies. this is the LAST STRAW. i keep telling you > our senator rand is broken. now it's getting worse. this week he voted for > polygamy marriage with multiple guys. it's not bad enough the homos can > marry, now they have to take OUR WOMEN too? i thought he was supposed > to represent us and pocatello-brigham is the second most conservative > (AMERICAN) district in the sixty-three UNITED STATES according to > fox global's two-minute infuriating facts. I would expect this from a copy > of senator clinton but there's NO WAY a rand should support that kind of > abomination of a bill! HOW DARE YOU!!!~ next it'll be abortion and then > maybe he can make it legal for your mom to abort YOU and dump your > fetus in the SAN FRANCISCO bay. then we can code our own senator > and finally get some real AMERICAN values in the heartland of our > country. and bring back flag worship - we need theocratic rule - GOD > BLESS THE USA you atheist nazis. LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Relevant FAQs:
22. What models of RoboSenator are available?
In order to begin the transition from polarized gridlock to automated progress, RoboSenator Version 1 shipped in 2032 with support for several classic lawmaking styles then in favor: the Clinton, the Kennedy, the Gingrich and the McCarthy. Two years later, several moderate models were prototyped -- the "Waffler," the "Apathetic," and the "Compromiser" -- as well as beta releases of ideological models released by political party coders: the Rand, the Reagan and the Roosevelt. Due to popular demand, several historical models are scheduled for a 2038 release: the Stalin, the Mao, the Khan, and the Richelieu.
25. How does my RoboSenator become more responsive to the needs of its constituents?
The ability that sets DHM's RoboSenators apart from the competition is the self-modifying nature of their code. Each district's senator is copied as a snapshot from the current development tree of that stock model, and then allowed to change its voting parameters based on input from its district. It does this through a combination of polling, blog-scanning, and event tracking, weighted by our proprietary metrics.
27. An issue polls at less than 50% support in my district. Why is my RoboSenator voting for it?
Because several factors are individually considered in determining a RoboSenator's parameter self-adjustment, polls by themselves do not always match a RoboSenator's voting record. Some, but not all, of the reasons for this include:
- Issues are ranked by importance in district polling. For issues weighted as "unimportant" or "marginal," polls are only a minor factor, superseded by other measures of civic engagement such as rallies or blog posts.
- Due to differences in poll wording, support numbers reported on your local newscast may differ from those collected by the RoboSenator's unbiased heuristic modeling.
- RoboSenator models start with their own weighting on various issues, viewable in the per-model source code at dev.robosenate.gov. New RoboSenators may take some time to learn the views of their exact district.
31. My RoboSenator supports an issue that most other RoboSenators of that model do not support.
Due to regional variations between different voting districts, your RoboSenator will differ from other RoboSenators of same or similar model. This is by design. Your RoboSenator is responding to the needs or desires of your district.
32. My RoboSenator supports an issue that the model's namesake would have disagreed with.
Due to parameter self-adjustments, your RoboSenator will not always retain the initial settings it had upon deployment to your region. This is by design. Your RoboSenator is responding to the needs or desires of your district.
34. My RoboSenator supports an issue that seems unlikely given my area's (conservative/liberal) rating.
Due to regional variations between different voting districts, your RoboSenator will differ from other RoboSenators representing similarly ranked districts. This is by design. Your RoboSenator is responding to the needs or desires of your district. Factors such as ethnicity or religion often play a role. For instance, areas high in members of Church of Jesus Christ of Final-Days Saints are often "conservative" but support issues such as plural marriage; and areas high in members of Church of the New Holy Roman Empire are often "liberal" but oppose issues such as abortion.
42. My RoboSenator has recently changed its opinion on an issue even though there have been no polling or district changes for months.
Due to the algorithms that guide self-modification in RoboSenator parameters, voting district changes (such as annual redistricting) can take several months to be reflected in voting patterns. This is by design. The algorithms are designed to resist manipulation by only responding to trends observed over time, discarding outlying results caused by blogbombing or flash micromobs.
78. How can I get my RoboSenator to support a particular issue?
While it is extremely hard for activists to overcome raw polling numbers on issues important to your district, your RoboSenator responds favorably to continued, consistent direct action and advocacy on most issues. Organizing rallies, news coverage or blog coverage in favor of your issue are all statistically proven ways to influence RoboSenator voting, especially on issues identified as locally unimportant or locally marginal.
163. Is your company run by atheist commies?
Eric Meshuggener is an atheist commie. However, he is outvoted 2-1 on our governing board. The other two are on your side.
164. Is your company run by theocratic nazis?
James Halliburton VI is a theocratic nazi. However, he is outvoted 2-1 on our governing board. The other two are on your side.
Have a nice day,
Hal Megillah Diebold-Halliburton-Meshuggener Automated Feedback Response Team support@robosenate.gov
Current Location: ~/brainstorm Current Mood: good Current Music: "Awakening," Xenogears OST Tags: microfic, politics, writing
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01:10 am
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Writing By Request: A Bit Of Exposition A quicktake from the Writing Requests thread last week. I'm going to tackle them in no particular order, though I'll try to generally work from the top down. I wrote this one first because a full scenario sprang immediately to mind. Thank you all again for your creative kickstarts. :-)
"This," Cern proclaimed, "is where I get to do a bit of exposition. I realize it's a traditional sign of hubris, the monologuing, but I have to get my practice in. I'm going to be saying this on TV eventually, you see. I have to have my delivery down."
"You're not worried that I might escape?" Bond asked, straining at his ropes.
"Oh, I'm sure you've got something up your sleeve," Cern said. "But isn't it better to take that risk, and actually enjoy victory? I mean, who else is capable of truly appreciating the struggle that took place here? We have to savor it, you and I, like a fine wine."
"Well," Bond said, "I would have to admit that you've earned the right to gloat. And I do confess to some curiosity."
"I appreciate you being such a good sport about it," said Cern, strolling past the fifteen-foot monitor with the satellite view of the Earth, and running his hands lightly over the console's brightly-colored control buttons. "It's a relief, frankly. It's so rare to find a sense of perspective. Put together a mad scientist, a suave superspy, and a tractor beam aimed at the moon, and the whole world expects a shootout -- some sort of bloodsport ending in murder or Armageddon. No subtlety. No style. Nobody appreciates the value of a good rivalry these days, do they?"
"About that," Bond said. "Wouldn't you say that 'rivalry' implies an ongoing relationship, which is to say, at least one rematch between the same opponents, namely, you and I, which would, I'm afraid, be precluded by my unfortunate and untimely death?"
"Now you're catching on," Cern said brightly. "You see, all along, I've been hoping that someone like you would come along." He looked around. "This isn't for the cameras. But I never really meant to kill you, not after seeing your brilliance on full display." Cern paced over to the smaller, secondary monitor, typed in the command to connect the communicator to the U.N. videophone, but paused before hitting Enter. "I mean, how many people could have done what you did with the laser-guided sharks?"
"Why, thank you," Bond said with a smile. "I'm glad you noticed. Too many people think a giant gun-toting army is the solution to every challenge, when really you can accomplish so much more with a single man with some creativity and wit."
"Now, see, that's what I say!" Cern beamed. "And the best part, the very best part? When it comes down to the climactic duel, the raw brawl, mano a mano, brain to brain ... you know exactly where you stand. When you win, it's because of your own actions, not some army of faceless and incurious soldiers."
"I certainly would look forward to a rematch," Bond said. "After all of our clashes across the length of the island, to be done in by that overhanging pipe in the escape tunnel leading here is frankly something of an embarrassment."
"It was, but you put up enough of a fight that I think we can still both be proud of the game," Cern said. "But I digress. They'll be expecting my speech soon. I would hate to disappoint. Tell me how this sounds." He cleared his throat and faced Bond directly. " 'Mr. Secretary-General -- people of the world -- I speak to you from Skull Island, which was just the site of the epic clash between the evil genius holding the world hostage and the lone hero sent as their last, best hope.' "
"And soon-to-be site of a smoldering crater," Bond said resignedly.
"Well, yes, there is that little matter of the four-hour self-destruct switch neither of us can reset," Cern sighed. "But cheer up. The yacht in the harbor is afire, so I'm escaping in my mini-submarine. Who would have predicted that you'd have one too? I certainly didn't see it on the monitors in the security room. All that the world will know is that I left you for dead in a locked room as I ran to beat the timer. Your return will come as a shock to millions."
Bond considered. "And thank you for that, Cern. If I may offer a little unsolicited advice in return? If you're really serious about the rematch, then you might not want to call the U.N. from here. The fleet is only an hour away."
"I see what you're saying. They'll be swarming after the call. The mastermind's unarmed mini-sub would inevitably be found by dozens of destroyers -- and all of the sharks are dead already." Cern made a face. "You're right, I suppose. But it's a shame. My speech would have been so much more dramatic live."
"I'm sorry," Bond said. "I'll make up for it in our next meeting."
"Yes," Cern said, straightening his bow tie and smoothing the arms of his tuxedo. "I know you will."
"I'll carve out a mountain fortress," Bond said. "No pesky navies."
"Then I'll be sure to bring the grappling hook gun," Cern said with a dapper smile. "See you, Doctor."
"Next time, Jake. Next time."
Current Location: ~/bedroom Current Mood: okay Tags: microfic, writing
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03:19 pm
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500 words I pulled to a stop and cracked open the passenger side window. "Is everything alright?"
The man leaned down, and I saw brown eyes through the opening and days of stubble through the glass. "Yeah," he said in an unconcerned voice. "Wouldn't mind a lift, if you're headed east."
"Where's your car?"
"I'm walking. Just gotta hit Fort Denver for some supplies."
"Seriously? No car? Hop in." I leaned over and yanked the door handle.
He stepped back as the door swung out, then leaned back down, making no move toward the car. "It's only fair to warn you. I've got two handguns on me. If that's a problem, I don't blame you for leaving."
The sense of duty that had compelled me to stop for a man alone in the woods kept me from stomping on the accelerator, but it didn't prevent the awkward silence. I tried to recover: "Hey, out here with the zeds, who could blame you?"
"Away from the cities, the danger is really overstated." He shrugged and lifted his coat to show a holster at his belt. "You need to stay armed, but they don't travel in packs."
The sight of the actual gun again halted conversation. "Uh," I hedged, "truth be told, I'd be more comfortable if you kept them unloaded in the car."
"That's fair." He unslung his backpack, fished a pistol from the holster and a second from under his arm, and removed both clips, making a show of zipping them into his pack's main pouch.
"The chamber too," I said, remembering an old gun safety video. He pulled back both slides to show the guns were empty.
"I'll ride shotgun if you hit a swarm," he said. "And if we don't make it to the fort tonight I'll keep you safe camping."
"Don't be crazy," I said. "I'm not stopping outside the walls."
"You just did, didn't you?" he said with a smile, and sat in the car.
I'd just barely started the old Chevy rolling when his smell hit me. I wrinkled my nose and rolled down my window. "Not a smoker?" he asked. "Sorry."
"It's okay," I said, trying to sidestep to the usual hitchhiker formalities. "I'm Dave."
"Jim," he said, putting on his seat belt. "I didn't smoke until this started. Then I discovered it was nicer to stink of tobacco than to stink of a week's worth of B.O."
"Try sponge baths."
"I was in Phoenix on Z-day. We lost water when the dam blew. It was tough just finding enough to drink. We spent our zed watches reminiscing about being clean."
I smiled wryly. "Kansas City flooded."
He laughed. "We should have been so lucky. Zeds don't swim."
"They wade just fine," I said, and changed the subject. "Do you tell everyone who stops about the guns?"
"Always."
"How many rides has it cost you?"
"Three," Jim said, and shrugged. "All we've got is each other, now. Each other, and trust. That's bigger than any ride."
Current Location: ~/bedroom Tags: hitchhikers and other random encounters, microfic, writing
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09:24 pm
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Quick take: "The L33t Starfighter" "The Last Starfighter" satire fanfic, based on discussion in this f-locked post about hacking "Starfighter" to beat it.
(ETA: Gods. How is it possible that I am the first person to riff on this theme? The Internet was supposed to contain everything, dammit!)
=========================================
The monotone voice again: "A candidate has qualified."
Centauri stared at the screen, muttered something unintelligible, and hit the space bar to acknowledge. "Weapons guidance hack?"
"Affirmative," his computer answered.
"Auto-steer cheat?"
"Affirmative."
"Faked lag evasion?"
"Affirmative."
Centauri rolled his eyes. "Bring him up."
( It's not long )
Current Location: ~spiral Current Mood: devious Current Music: DJ Liljo, "Inspired Reality" Tags: fanfic, microfic, writing
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03:20 am
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TWO new TTU stories! Hey, y'all remember that whole Tomorrowlands Universe thing? The one with the wiki that's been eating my brain for a month and a half? Turns out someone finally remembered its purpose in the first place: A setting for stories.
Stories! Fancy that. So without further ado, let us present the tale of Smith, who ... um ... "stars" in a drama in two short, interchangeable acts:
Ascension | Declination
Read them in either order.
Many thanks to roaminrob for the inspiration -- and for letting me name his story "Ascension" so I could dig for the pun. Thanks also to my muse for forcing me to write "Declination" in response, a 600-word conversation with 19 words of dialogue.
Current Location: ~/computer_desk Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Royan Crown Revue, "Deadly Nightcall" Tags: microfic, ttu, writing
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