The
car had moved several inches in the last few hours. The wheels
squealing on the tracks, as if pulling away from glue. Something was
definitely happening and he was glad for it. He didn't know how many
more days he could stay couped up on just a platform. A
prisoner lost in time and space. He could hear Bishop in the
conductor car yelling at the train, shouting for it to move forward.
"What's
going on?" Aqua inquired. She was bouncing around in her seat,
itching to get into combat.
"Looks
like whatever is holding us here is trying to keep us here,"
Frank said. "It doesn't want to let us go."
"Could
it be some demonic force? Like a life leech?" Tatter asked. She
sat by a window looking out and saw people begin to mill about on the
platform, their images ghostlike in appearance. Whatever was
happening it was affecting the platform too.
Bishop
continued to shout at the train, hurling verbal abuse at the
Gods, the earth, the world, his shoes. It was the first time any one
of them had heard him become so vocal.
The
train lurched forward again, a sudden two feet, sending
everyone in the car tumbling over. It was a violent battle that was
going on and it looked like Bishop was finally winning. Frank stood
up and glanced around at the car to make sure everyone was okay, then
as he scanned the platform his eyes widened in shock...
20140101
Crisis Call
Simon
snapped a few pictures of the dining room. Baboor had the
woman in the living room, Stockard was upstairs with the son.
Simon had been teamed with Karen Stockard and Asha Baboor on a number of assignments. They always got along well and their styles in the field complimented each other. On the drive over today, though, Simon had felt irritated by them both. Their voices, their conversation. Any time they asked him a question, always friendly, always polite, he bristled. They were talking about social stuff - they usually sorted and prepped all the work stuff in the office before leaving - but he felt so disconnected, so out of touch with the world and lives they were chatting about, it was almost painful. He wasn't surprised when they offered to conduct the interviews.
He snapped a few more shots then moved into the kitchen. He could hear Baboor speaking with the woman, her voice gentle, calmly drawing answers from her. The woman started to sound more tense, Baboor shifted her tone slightly to try and keep her grounded. It didn't work; the woman slipped into anger instead. Got defensive.
Suddenly, Simon found himself striding into the living room.
Baboor was sitting on the couch facing the woman who was seated in a chair beside it. Baboor read his posture right away and stood up.
"Who do you think you are?" Simon growled at the woman. Her eyes widened in shock at his tone.
"Agent Light -" Baboor said, trying to cut in.
He didn't stop. "We're here trying to help you and you shut us out? You're lucky Agent Baboor is doing the interview - I'd be smacking the info out of you if you tried that tone with me."
The woman looked terrified and confused, pressed back into the chair, hands clutching the sides.
Baboor realized that she had to meet his level, even though it meant showing dissonance in front of the woman. "Agent Light! Back into the kitchen right now!"
Stockard appeared at the top of the stairs. The son called down, "Mom, are you ok?"
In his mind Simon was yelling SHUTUP SHUTUP SHEISNOTOK YOUARENOTOK LEAVEMEALONE SHUTUP but he managed to stop the words from coming out. Managed to turn around head back to the other room. Heard Baboor and Stockard speaking to the mother and son.
Simon imagined drawing his pistol, firing randomly into the room, imagined surrendering to violence, the terrible freedom of it. Anything to get him outside, get him out of whatever he was trapped in. His hand rose up before him. He was holding his cellphone, not the pistol. It hadn't rang in days.
"Where are you?" he whispered to it.
Simon had been teamed with Karen Stockard and Asha Baboor on a number of assignments. They always got along well and their styles in the field complimented each other. On the drive over today, though, Simon had felt irritated by them both. Their voices, their conversation. Any time they asked him a question, always friendly, always polite, he bristled. They were talking about social stuff - they usually sorted and prepped all the work stuff in the office before leaving - but he felt so disconnected, so out of touch with the world and lives they were chatting about, it was almost painful. He wasn't surprised when they offered to conduct the interviews.
He snapped a few more shots then moved into the kitchen. He could hear Baboor speaking with the woman, her voice gentle, calmly drawing answers from her. The woman started to sound more tense, Baboor shifted her tone slightly to try and keep her grounded. It didn't work; the woman slipped into anger instead. Got defensive.
Suddenly, Simon found himself striding into the living room.
Baboor was sitting on the couch facing the woman who was seated in a chair beside it. Baboor read his posture right away and stood up.
"Who do you think you are?" Simon growled at the woman. Her eyes widened in shock at his tone.
"Agent Light -" Baboor said, trying to cut in.
He didn't stop. "We're here trying to help you and you shut us out? You're lucky Agent Baboor is doing the interview - I'd be smacking the info out of you if you tried that tone with me."
The woman looked terrified and confused, pressed back into the chair, hands clutching the sides.
Baboor realized that she had to meet his level, even though it meant showing dissonance in front of the woman. "Agent Light! Back into the kitchen right now!"
Stockard appeared at the top of the stairs. The son called down, "Mom, are you ok?"
In his mind Simon was yelling SHUTUP SHUTUP SHEISNOTOK YOUARENOTOK LEAVEMEALONE SHUTUP but he managed to stop the words from coming out. Managed to turn around head back to the other room. Heard Baboor and Stockard speaking to the mother and son.
Simon imagined drawing his pistol, firing randomly into the room, imagined surrendering to violence, the terrible freedom of it. Anything to get him outside, get him out of whatever he was trapped in. His hand rose up before him. He was holding his cellphone, not the pistol. It hadn't rang in days.
"Where are you?" he whispered to it.
Sometimes It's Just
Susanna closed the door gently behind her guest. “Please, come on in, make
yourself comfortable. You can put that…” She gestured awkwardly
at the sword the woman had slung over her shoulder. “Well, wherever
you’d like.”
Maggie smiled a warm smile, hoping to put Susanna at ease.
A short time later they were seated on the balcony of Susanna’s apartment building, smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. Susanna had started smoking socially after some of the local gigs she had played.
“I really appreciate this,” she said.
Mags exhaled a line of smoke into the warm spring air. “It’s no problem at all. Are you sure you don’t mind putting me up?”
“I’ve decided that pampering my bodyguard is a smart idea.”
Mags laughed; she liked Susanna, she could tell right away. Some people collapsed in a crisis, and Maggie had sympathy for them. Others let fear become anger or bitterness, and Maggie had little patience for them. And some, like Susanna, stayed strong when things went out of control; Maggie always admired them. She herself had been each type of person at different times in her life.
“Well, breakfast-in-bed is always a classic form of pampering,” Maggie said with a smirk.
Susanna came back quick. “It’ll be breakfast-in-couch I’m afraid. Struggling musician means tiny one-bedroom apartment.”
Maggie laughed again. It had been a while since she had felt relaxed like this. Chatting. Fun. The balcony overlooked a wide park, trees and paths, a fountain. Children playing, dogs being walked. It would be easy to start pretending that this was her life, visiting with a friend, having tea. Easy to let her guard down, to let the Professor down and Susanna be taken by whatever enemies shifting had earned her.
Maggie asked her about her music, they talked about leaving teaching to pursue her art. Mags called her Sue, and for some reason it didn’t bother Susanna like when others had done so.
He used to tell that she could have this, that it could be her life if she wanted it. She would never be free of everything else, of all the darkness and the fighting, but there could be room for this too. He had tried, in his way, to help her find that. But of course he could never make it work for himself…
“You ok?” Susanna asked. Maggie looked at her. “You looked troubled all of a sudden.”
“I’m fine,” Mags said, fishing another cigarette from her pack. She didn’t like it when people got a glimpse behind the armour.
“I hope that sword is better at deflecting than you are, or I’m in trouble,” Susanna said lightly.
Mags felt the urge to lash out; she always did when she felt vulnerable. Susanna had a sweetness though, that cooled the sudden fire. A crow cawed from a tree in the park. Susanna saw Maggie look sad for a moment, then focus. Summon a playful smile.
“I could always practice my forms with it, if your apartment wasn’t so cramped,” Maggie jibed.
They kept talking and laughing, and for a while everything was peaceful.
Maggie smiled a warm smile, hoping to put Susanna at ease.
A short time later they were seated on the balcony of Susanna’s apartment building, smoking cigarettes and drinking tea. Susanna had started smoking socially after some of the local gigs she had played.
“I really appreciate this,” she said.
Mags exhaled a line of smoke into the warm spring air. “It’s no problem at all. Are you sure you don’t mind putting me up?”
“I’ve decided that pampering my bodyguard is a smart idea.”
Mags laughed; she liked Susanna, she could tell right away. Some people collapsed in a crisis, and Maggie had sympathy for them. Others let fear become anger or bitterness, and Maggie had little patience for them. And some, like Susanna, stayed strong when things went out of control; Maggie always admired them. She herself had been each type of person at different times in her life.
“Well, breakfast-in-bed is always a classic form of pampering,” Maggie said with a smirk.
Susanna came back quick. “It’ll be breakfast-in-couch I’m afraid. Struggling musician means tiny one-bedroom apartment.”
Maggie laughed again. It had been a while since she had felt relaxed like this. Chatting. Fun. The balcony overlooked a wide park, trees and paths, a fountain. Children playing, dogs being walked. It would be easy to start pretending that this was her life, visiting with a friend, having tea. Easy to let her guard down, to let the Professor down and Susanna be taken by whatever enemies shifting had earned her.
Maggie asked her about her music, they talked about leaving teaching to pursue her art. Mags called her Sue, and for some reason it didn’t bother Susanna like when others had done so.
He used to tell that she could have this, that it could be her life if she wanted it. She would never be free of everything else, of all the darkness and the fighting, but there could be room for this too. He had tried, in his way, to help her find that. But of course he could never make it work for himself…
“You ok?” Susanna asked. Maggie looked at her. “You looked troubled all of a sudden.”
“I’m fine,” Mags said, fishing another cigarette from her pack. She didn’t like it when people got a glimpse behind the armour.
“I hope that sword is better at deflecting than you are, or I’m in trouble,” Susanna said lightly.
Mags felt the urge to lash out; she always did when she felt vulnerable. Susanna had a sweetness though, that cooled the sudden fire. A crow cawed from a tree in the park. Susanna saw Maggie look sad for a moment, then focus. Summon a playful smile.
“I could always practice my forms with it, if your apartment wasn’t so cramped,” Maggie jibed.
They kept talking and laughing, and for a while everything was peaceful.
Operation: Glass Vial
Morganfokker
got up from the table and looked into the eyes of those he had
summoned. The looks that they returned told him all he
needed to know. He gathered up the folders and slid them into his
briefcase before Ms. Morningstar stood up and walked toward him.
"Am I to believe that what transpired a few months ago has rippled outward?" she inquired. "That the very fabric of all existence is unwinding faster than a spool of yarn? That all of this right now will cease to be in a few years?"
"I told you that we were opening up a can of worms on this one. Yet you ignored the data in my initial report," he stated. "Things like this cannot be controlled. You of ALL people should know that." Morganfokker kept his cool.
Ms. Morningstar smiled. A bittersweet one at that made Morganfokker cringe inside. That smile was a smile that ate worlds for breakfast and spat them out.
Ms. Morningstar sat at the edge of the table; she looked straight into Morganfokker's eyes, leaned forward towards his ear and said in a sexy voice, "You know what you must do now..."
He damn well knew what needed to be done. Hopefully it isn't too late, he thought as he snapped the lid shut on the briefcase.
"Am I to believe that what transpired a few months ago has rippled outward?" she inquired. "That the very fabric of all existence is unwinding faster than a spool of yarn? That all of this right now will cease to be in a few years?"
"I told you that we were opening up a can of worms on this one. Yet you ignored the data in my initial report," he stated. "Things like this cannot be controlled. You of ALL people should know that." Morganfokker kept his cool.
Ms. Morningstar smiled. A bittersweet one at that made Morganfokker cringe inside. That smile was a smile that ate worlds for breakfast and spat them out.
Ms. Morningstar sat at the edge of the table; she looked straight into Morganfokker's eyes, leaned forward towards his ear and said in a sexy voice, "You know what you must do now..."
He damn well knew what needed to be done. Hopefully it isn't too late, he thought as he snapped the lid shut on the briefcase.
+ PLEX TOURS .2 Chronoplex
- The Bunker
- The Lab Level Two
- The Cast
- The Bookstore
- The Brownstone
- The Subway
- Metafesto
- The Diner
- The Lab
A Celebration of Linear Time
by The Professor
“In honour of the wide-spread consensus belief that events generally move forward progressively, and that cause precedes effect (and intentionally ignoring the facts that plureality manifests as both a holarchy and a fractal), I have created a Timeline of Max Cube.
Enjoy, and Happy New Year!”
Origin Story
- as described in version.OPI8
- Max's involvement with the military, MK-Omega, the Cadre
- Max shoots and kills his handler Morganfokker
The Diner
- Max becomes involved in a global occult war
- Max meets the original Dragons (Dexter, Wraith, Callan,
Darius)
- Max begins to hear the voice of Control
(Cubed)
- Max begins to experience different versions of reality
- Max often perceives events as if they are a TV show
- Time/Memory fragmentation increases
- Max meets Maggie during his escape from the secret base
Atlantis
Version X
- Max experiences radical disruptions to his mental health, as described in version.X, and version.THERAPY
- Max encounters various gods and enters the Abyss
Plureality
- the return of Morganfokker
- Max is contacted by the Professor
- Maggie is revealed as Magriel and the demonic war starts
- new Dragons are recruited (Frank, Goner, Angst, Suki)
- Max reunites with Pretty George
- LEGACY becomes a threat
Subway
Metaplex
- other Travelers arrive
- Operation Control occurs
- the Remixes occur
- Tatterdemalion is rescued and joins the Dragons
[The Missing Season]
Realtime
- following a long and mysterious gap in the record, the events
of Project Realtime occur
- Max meets Stone, Riveta, Scorpio, Donnelly and Mayganne
- Max is reunited with an older version of Suki
- Max meets Simon
Fragmented
- the newest Dragons undergo Initiation
- Maggie returns and meets with Susanna and Crow
- the old Dragons are trapped on the Subway
Citadel
- a shift into a radically different version of space fantasy
- the adventures of the Guard and the climactic battle against the enemy
Underground
Iteration
- (the changes initiated by Fragmented, Citadel and Underground are processed...)
- Max and Maggie briefly reunite in Purgatory
- Max experiences Channel Plex
- version.Minus is revealed
- Max rejoins the Cadre
- A Reunion of the Dragons
- A Reunion of the Fallen
- Plureality undergoes a massive flux of versions (including GenderBent, Dungeons&, Super, Space, Cyber, Western and Thespian)
- Godmode begins
- The Professor undertakes the Defrag experiment
- Max and Maggie reconnect in Unparalleled
- The Dragons experience the Backbone of the Metaplex
- Akimoto performs an Invocation
- The Iteration crescendoes in Neo Static
- Control reveals the existence of The System and Counter-System
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)