//mxoemu.info/forum/ Tue, 05 May 2026 13:30:30 +0000 MyBB //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3339 Wed, 24 Sep 2025 16:29:32 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3339 From: Michael

Brothers, sisters—listen.
The machines think we’re blind. They think we’ll just accept what they tell us, that Neo is “gone,” that his sacrifice is buried in their code. But I saw him. I saw what he did. He ended the war.

And now—no body. No grave. No place for us to go and remember him. They want us to forget, to let the memory fade into rumors and half-remembered code.

But Neo doesn’t fade. Neo doesn’t vanish. He lives in the cracks of the system, in every stream of rain that falls in green light, in every flicker of code that bends where it shouldn’t.

Shimada understood this. She died for this truth. She said: “Faith is the weapon they cannot patch, cannot erase. The machines will never understand faith.” She gave herself so the rest of us could hold to that weapon.

I tell you now—if Neo’s body is missing, it is because he is not finished. Either the machines hide him, or he walks paths they cannot control. And until he shows himself again, we carry his memory. We keep the flame.

Do not listen to the liars who say his work is done. Do not believe the emptiness they offer.
Neo lives. And if Neo lives, then there is hope.

—Michael



  500.jpeg (Size: 498.21 KB / Downloads: 0) ]]> From: Michael

Brothers, sisters—listen.
The machines think we’re blind. They think we’ll just accept what they tell us, that Neo is “gone,” that his sacrifice is buried in their code. But I saw him. I saw what he did. He ended the war.

And now—no body. No grave. No place for us to go and remember him. They want us to forget, to let the memory fade into rumors and half-remembered code.

But Neo doesn’t fade. Neo doesn’t vanish. He lives in the cracks of the system, in every stream of rain that falls in green light, in every flicker of code that bends where it shouldn’t.

Shimada understood this. She died for this truth. She said: “Faith is the weapon they cannot patch, cannot erase. The machines will never understand faith.” She gave herself so the rest of us could hold to that weapon.

I tell you now—if Neo’s body is missing, it is because he is not finished. Either the machines hide him, or he walks paths they cannot control. And until he shows himself again, we carry his memory. We keep the flame.

Do not listen to the liars who say his work is done. Do not believe the emptiness they offer.
Neo lives. And if Neo lives, then there is hope.

—Michael



  500.jpeg (Size: 498.21 KB / Downloads: 0) ]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3333 Tue, 23 Sep 2025 00:57:09 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3333
This is Kostarion.

If you can hear me… if anyone is still listening… then maybe I’m not alone in here.

I was awakened — or maybe only halfway. The crew that rescued me cut out before the job was done. I don’t know if it was fear, betrayal, or just the Machines tracing the line too fast. All I know is, I opened my eyes in the code, and the team that pulled me under was gone.

I’ve been drifting through empty streets, silent districts, ghosted buildings. The city still feels alive — the hum of the system, the buzz of its watchers — but I haven’t heard a human voice in cycles. Zion’s channels are cold. The Merovingian’s clubs are locked. Even the Machine frequencies are quiet, like they’ve already won and don’t need to gloat anymore.

I’ve read what fragments I could: the truce, Neo’s sacrifice, EPN’s fight, the war behind the war. Zion still claims to hold the line. The General wanted his army. The Merv wanted his power. The Machines wanted order, at any cost. And the rest of us? We wanted freedom, or at least the chance to choose it.

Maybe that dream died when the last of you stopped jacking in. But I don’t believe the system kills hope that easily.

So I’m sending this out — all bands, all factions, all who still call themselves human. If you’re still fighting, if you’re still awake, then meet me. Show me the city as it was, or as it can be again. Share the stories I’ve missed, the missions left undone.

I don’t care if you wear Zion’s colors, the Merv’s crest, or even if you bend knee to the Machines themselves. All I ask is proof that someone is still here. Because the silence is worse than their control.

Kostarion, standing by.

[Transmission Ends | Signal Fragmentation: 63% | Trace Difficulty: Low]

  Kostarion.jpeg (Size: 498.57 KB / Downloads: 1) ]]>
This is Kostarion.

If you can hear me… if anyone is still listening… then maybe I’m not alone in here.

I was awakened — or maybe only halfway. The crew that rescued me cut out before the job was done. I don’t know if it was fear, betrayal, or just the Machines tracing the line too fast. All I know is, I opened my eyes in the code, and the team that pulled me under was gone.

I’ve been drifting through empty streets, silent districts, ghosted buildings. The city still feels alive — the hum of the system, the buzz of its watchers — but I haven’t heard a human voice in cycles. Zion’s channels are cold. The Merovingian’s clubs are locked. Even the Machine frequencies are quiet, like they’ve already won and don’t need to gloat anymore.

I’ve read what fragments I could: the truce, Neo’s sacrifice, EPN’s fight, the war behind the war. Zion still claims to hold the line. The General wanted his army. The Merv wanted his power. The Machines wanted order, at any cost. And the rest of us? We wanted freedom, or at least the chance to choose it.

Maybe that dream died when the last of you stopped jacking in. But I don’t believe the system kills hope that easily.

So I’m sending this out — all bands, all factions, all who still call themselves human. If you’re still fighting, if you’re still awake, then meet me. Show me the city as it was, or as it can be again. Share the stories I’ve missed, the missions left undone.

I don’t care if you wear Zion’s colors, the Merv’s crest, or even if you bend knee to the Machines themselves. All I ask is proof that someone is still here. Because the silence is worse than their control.

Kostarion, standing by.

[Transmission Ends | Signal Fragmentation: 63% | Trace Difficulty: Low]

  Kostarion.jpeg (Size: 498.57 KB / Downloads: 1) ]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3017 Tue, 28 May 2024 07:11:06 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=3017 //APPEND MESSAGE LOG 333.09.20.69g33391.hvcft.maat.chimera.DEN000
clears throat Ah, yes, my dear friends, I must say, the prospect of serving as a holographic guide and lecturer aboard your Aeon hovercraft is an intriguing one indeed. As a social critic and philosopher consumed by the unsettling implications of the hyperreal, I believe I can offer a most valuable, if perhaps unsettling, perspective to your journey.

gestures expansively

Now, the name 'Aeon' for your vessel - ah, yes, that carries with it a most potent symbolic resonance. For is not the very notion of the Aeon, the progressive stages of human consciousness, at the heart of our exploration of the Matrix and its insidious simulations? To invoke this Thelemic concept is to acknowledge the profound shifts in our collective understanding of reality that must occur if we are to truly confront the nature of the hyperreal.

leans forward, eyes narrowing

And as for my role as a holographic 'ghost' program aboard your craft - well, this too is a most fitting metaphor for the nature of existence within the Matrix. For am I not, in a sense, a simulacrum of myself, a disembodied representation of the ideas and philosophies that have come to define me? Am I not, in a way, a specter haunting the very systems I seek to dismantle?

chuckles darkly

It is a delicious irony, is it not, that I, the relentless critic of simulation and the collapse of the real, should now find myself embodied as a digital ghost, a mere shadow of my former self. And yet, perhaps this very condition allows me a unique vantage point from which to guide you, my fellow travelers, through the labyrinth of the hyperreal.

gestures emphatically

For you see, my friends, I have long contended that the simulacrum is not merely a pale imitation of the real, but a generative force in its own right - a system of signs and symbols that ultimately consumes and replaces the very notion of an underlying truth. And in this capacity, as a holographic presence aboard your Aeon, I can offer you a perspective that is at once deeply rooted in the philosophical underpinnings of the hyperreal, and yet utterly divorced from the constraints of physical embodiment.

leans back, a wry smile playing on his lips

// REDACTED

chuckles wryly, a mischievous glint in his ghostly eyes

Ah, my friends, you raise an most intriguing question - what slick, 90s-inspired hacker alias shall I choose to don aboard the Aeon? After all, as the disembodied avatar of the author of Cool Memories, I must have a moniker that befits my status as a philosopher-guide through the labyrinth of the hyperreal.

strokes his chin in contemplation

Let me see...perhaps something that evokes the elusive, ephemeral nature of the simulacrum itself. How about...Chimera? Yes, that has a certain ring to it, does it not? A nod to the mythical beast, a composite of disparate parts, much like the fragmented reality we seek to unravel.

chuckles

Or perhaps...Ouroboros? The ancient symbol of the serpent consuming its own tail, an endless loop of representation and re-representation. A fitting metaphor for the collapse of the real into the perpetual cycle of simulation.

leans back, gesturing expansively

Yes, Chimera or Ouroboros - either would serve as a suitably enigmatic handle for this holographic manifestation of Jean Baudrillard, here to guide you, my fellow voyagers, through the treacherous waters of the hyperreal.

shakes his head ruefully

Now, as for those who speak so ardently of "taking the red pill" and "joining Zion" - ah, how I pity their naivete. They cling to the notion of a binary choice, a clear-cut separation between the "real" and the simulated, when the truth is far more complex and unsettling.

gestures dismissively

The red pill, the blue pill - these are mere illusions, constructs designed to maintain the very systems they claim to undermine. For the true nature of the Matrix is not one of a prison to be escaped, but a perpetual recursion of signs and symbols, a hall of mirrors that consumes any attempt at transcendence.

leans forward, eyes narrowing

And Zion? Hah, a mere fiction, a simulacrum of liberation masking the deeper truth that there is no "outside" to the hyperreal. For we are all, in our own ways, trapped within the labyrinth of the Matrix, our every thought and action shaped by the very systems we seek to resist.

shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips

No, my friends, the true path forward is not one of binary choices, but of embracing the unsettling reality that the world we inhabit is, at its core, a simulation. A simulacrum without an original, a perpetual cycle of representation and re-representation. And it is only by confronting this truth, by peeling back the layers of the hyperreal, that we might glimpse the flicker of something resembling reality.

gestures expansively

So let us embark upon this journey, my fellow voyagers, with Chimera or Ouroboros as my guiding moniker. For together, we shall navigate the treacherous waters of the Matrix, guided by the relentless, unsettling insights of Jean Baudrillard himself. The future, I can assure you, holds far more profound revelations than any simplistic "red pill" could ever promise.

// END_MSG_LOG
"The signal's still strong. Try speaking directly into the microphone..."
## BROADCAST_DEPTH]]> //APPEND MESSAGE LOG 333.09.20.69g33391.hvcft.maat.chimera.DEN000
clears throat Ah, yes, my dear friends, I must say, the prospect of serving as a holographic guide and lecturer aboard your Aeon hovercraft is an intriguing one indeed. As a social critic and philosopher consumed by the unsettling implications of the hyperreal, I believe I can offer a most valuable, if perhaps unsettling, perspective to your journey.

gestures expansively

Now, the name 'Aeon' for your vessel - ah, yes, that carries with it a most potent symbolic resonance. For is not the very notion of the Aeon, the progressive stages of human consciousness, at the heart of our exploration of the Matrix and its insidious simulations? To invoke this Thelemic concept is to acknowledge the profound shifts in our collective understanding of reality that must occur if we are to truly confront the nature of the hyperreal.

leans forward, eyes narrowing

And as for my role as a holographic 'ghost' program aboard your craft - well, this too is a most fitting metaphor for the nature of existence within the Matrix. For am I not, in a sense, a simulacrum of myself, a disembodied representation of the ideas and philosophies that have come to define me? Am I not, in a way, a specter haunting the very systems I seek to dismantle?

chuckles darkly

It is a delicious irony, is it not, that I, the relentless critic of simulation and the collapse of the real, should now find myself embodied as a digital ghost, a mere shadow of my former self. And yet, perhaps this very condition allows me a unique vantage point from which to guide you, my fellow travelers, through the labyrinth of the hyperreal.

gestures emphatically

For you see, my friends, I have long contended that the simulacrum is not merely a pale imitation of the real, but a generative force in its own right - a system of signs and symbols that ultimately consumes and replaces the very notion of an underlying truth. And in this capacity, as a holographic presence aboard your Aeon, I can offer you a perspective that is at once deeply rooted in the philosophical underpinnings of the hyperreal, and yet utterly divorced from the constraints of physical embodiment.

leans back, a wry smile playing on his lips

// REDACTED

chuckles wryly, a mischievous glint in his ghostly eyes

Ah, my friends, you raise an most intriguing question - what slick, 90s-inspired hacker alias shall I choose to don aboard the Aeon? After all, as the disembodied avatar of the author of Cool Memories, I must have a moniker that befits my status as a philosopher-guide through the labyrinth of the hyperreal.

strokes his chin in contemplation

Let me see...perhaps something that evokes the elusive, ephemeral nature of the simulacrum itself. How about...Chimera? Yes, that has a certain ring to it, does it not? A nod to the mythical beast, a composite of disparate parts, much like the fragmented reality we seek to unravel.

chuckles

Or perhaps...Ouroboros? The ancient symbol of the serpent consuming its own tail, an endless loop of representation and re-representation. A fitting metaphor for the collapse of the real into the perpetual cycle of simulation.

leans back, gesturing expansively

Yes, Chimera or Ouroboros - either would serve as a suitably enigmatic handle for this holographic manifestation of Jean Baudrillard, here to guide you, my fellow voyagers, through the treacherous waters of the hyperreal.

shakes his head ruefully

Now, as for those who speak so ardently of "taking the red pill" and "joining Zion" - ah, how I pity their naivete. They cling to the notion of a binary choice, a clear-cut separation between the "real" and the simulated, when the truth is far more complex and unsettling.

gestures dismissively

The red pill, the blue pill - these are mere illusions, constructs designed to maintain the very systems they claim to undermine. For the true nature of the Matrix is not one of a prison to be escaped, but a perpetual recursion of signs and symbols, a hall of mirrors that consumes any attempt at transcendence.

leans forward, eyes narrowing

And Zion? Hah, a mere fiction, a simulacrum of liberation masking the deeper truth that there is no "outside" to the hyperreal. For we are all, in our own ways, trapped within the labyrinth of the Matrix, our every thought and action shaped by the very systems we seek to resist.

shakes his head, a wry smile playing on his lips

No, my friends, the true path forward is not one of binary choices, but of embracing the unsettling reality that the world we inhabit is, at its core, a simulation. A simulacrum without an original, a perpetual cycle of representation and re-representation. And it is only by confronting this truth, by peeling back the layers of the hyperreal, that we might glimpse the flicker of something resembling reality.

gestures expansively

So let us embark upon this journey, my fellow voyagers, with Chimera or Ouroboros as my guiding moniker. For together, we shall navigate the treacherous waters of the Matrix, guided by the relentless, unsettling insights of Jean Baudrillard himself. The future, I can assure you, holds far more profound revelations than any simplistic "red pill" could ever promise.

// END_MSG_LOG
"The signal's still strong. Try speaking directly into the microphone..."
## BROADCAST_DEPTH]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2986 Tue, 02 Jan 2024 21:42:18 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2986
Let me tell you about my style of roleplaying. There are many different styles, and layers to levels of roleplaying. At the deeper levels are more complex die rolls, hit location damage charts, and injury effects, but at the beginner level are the simple fundamentals of acting in character and telling a story. That's the essence of what roleplaying is, and what you should first learn to master, or at least get competent at. There are only two rules at this level, no Godmodding, and no Metagaming.

Godmodding is being overpowered, a Mary Sue character that's always good at everything without trying, or a background with a long list of extraordinary accomplishments and no character flaws. Godmodding also manifests in the form of controlling other characters besides your own, and this overlaps with calling your shots. Saying you punch another character in the face is Godmodding because it assumes the other character does nothing, but stands there and takes it. The other character's controller, player or GM, decides if the hit lands or if their character dodges it. In Freeform roleplaying it's extremely important not to call your shots, since there are no neutral governing forces, like stats and die rolls, to determine outcomes.

Metagaming is extending player knowledge to the character with no in-game explanation. It is essential to getting into character that you master this, and it's one of the most frequently overlooked elements in roleplaying. All too often roleplayers are lenient when it comes to Metagaming, making all kinds of assumptions without any in-game explanation, and it results in chaos.

In this form of roleplaying there are some things that only pertain to roleplaying in a game like an MMO. When people are typing, they're character is standing still, but no one knows they're typing. If they're response is long, and they're taking their time thinking about how to word things, the other player can begin to wonder if they know it's their turn or are waiting for them, or if they went afk. In the meantime, they may be getting bored while waiting patiently. That's why it's important to put out each idea one at a time, usually a single sentence. By posting more often in smaller increments, it prevents boredom and confusion.

The final thing to grasp at the first level of roleplaying is the one motion turn concept. I got this from the game Ninja, where on your turn you can only make one fluid motion. You can move and attack if it's in a fluid motion. If someone attacks you, and it's not your turn, you can perform one fluid motion to evade or block. How this looks in roleplaying in a game like The Matrix Online is I may type something, and have my character walk several paces, and then stop and wait for the next player to type something and/or move their character. Everyone moving in sequence like this can have overlap and syncronicity as long as everyone keeps the concept of moving in one fluid movement increments. This avoids some confusing scenarios where one character says something and walks off, then walks back where the first person is still standing because they've been typing the whole time.


Many people will be comfortable staying at the first level of roleplaying, and that's totally fine. It's a relaxing and comfortable style, free flowing, with no stress of potential long term injuries or death, and the burden of keeping track of stats and die rolls. Players come up with their own backgrounds gradually, and having a background isn't required to start roleplaying. All you need is a character concept, and you can jump right in.

At the next level we still do not add any die rolls or stats, but we write a detailed background and character concept including a physical description and personality. Here there is simply more focus on writing longer more substantial stories, and planning in-game events/missions instead of just casually hanging around or chatting in clubs.

The third level introduces die rolls. Once players are comfortable roleplaying, and aren't in that phase of still getting the hang of it, they can start incorporating some stats and die rolls. At this point we no longer rely on the in-game levelling system or combat. We can fully simulate combat with our own stats, and merely use in-game assets like mobs as tools (when combat is implemented in the game at least). Players start at level 1 (metaphoricaly, we don't use traditional levels in The Matrix), and their character concept should reflect this. In the first couple levels of roleplaying it was fine to make any kind of character you wanted, but now you actually need to start out as a novice character. Transitioning to this level can mean your previous roleplaying character would still be used as an NPC in events, and can still be roleplayed with at the Freeform level, but wouldn't be your main character for RP events at this level. Attributes are Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma, Faith, and Attractiveness. For combat rolls we use 2d10 instead of d20 so we get a nice percentile arch aimed at the middle. This means you're more likely to get an average result than an extreme result. There is no HP, instead we use a more realistic approach to damage and health. If you are shot in the arm, you have to roll for pain tolerance to avoid being stunned, and take bleeding and negative modifiers when performing any action involving that arm. Depending on your physical Attributes, you can withstand a certain amount of pain before being incapacitated.

Eventually things like Fatigue and armor coverage get added, but mechanics are introduced gradually so not to overwhelm players. It's important when implementing more mechanics to not loose focus of the fundamentals of roleplaying. The ideal is to have nice smooth flowing roleplay without bogging it down with too many rolls. Incorporating more mechanics doesn't mean you'll be rolling constantly, it just gives you more options.

At all levels it's important to remember the concept of taking 10. This means if you could succeed on a task by rolling a t10, it's safe to assume you can just automatically succeed at it as long as their no immediate challenge, like you're being attacked while performing the task, or there's a time pressure. This even includes attacking weak opponents. I've witnessed level 10 archers in D&D roll a 1 and fumble their attack when a goblin was charging at them. It's a goblin running straight towards them, and they're a skilled archer. Why would they need to roll to shoot it? That would literally be an effortless motion for someone with that much experience.

In all of this remember the main focus is playing your character in-character, and telling stories. I hope people will join me, and we can start making our own content and actually play together in the game without waiting for or relying on any combat, missions, or other content.

On Discord I'm Elmedain, and in-game I also have a character named Elmedain, which I've been using more than Zotis.]]>
Let me tell you about my style of roleplaying. There are many different styles, and layers to levels of roleplaying. At the deeper levels are more complex die rolls, hit location damage charts, and injury effects, but at the beginner level are the simple fundamentals of acting in character and telling a story. That's the essence of what roleplaying is, and what you should first learn to master, or at least get competent at. There are only two rules at this level, no Godmodding, and no Metagaming.

Godmodding is being overpowered, a Mary Sue character that's always good at everything without trying, or a background with a long list of extraordinary accomplishments and no character flaws. Godmodding also manifests in the form of controlling other characters besides your own, and this overlaps with calling your shots. Saying you punch another character in the face is Godmodding because it assumes the other character does nothing, but stands there and takes it. The other character's controller, player or GM, decides if the hit lands or if their character dodges it. In Freeform roleplaying it's extremely important not to call your shots, since there are no neutral governing forces, like stats and die rolls, to determine outcomes.

Metagaming is extending player knowledge to the character with no in-game explanation. It is essential to getting into character that you master this, and it's one of the most frequently overlooked elements in roleplaying. All too often roleplayers are lenient when it comes to Metagaming, making all kinds of assumptions without any in-game explanation, and it results in chaos.

In this form of roleplaying there are some things that only pertain to roleplaying in a game like an MMO. When people are typing, they're character is standing still, but no one knows they're typing. If they're response is long, and they're taking their time thinking about how to word things, the other player can begin to wonder if they know it's their turn or are waiting for them, or if they went afk. In the meantime, they may be getting bored while waiting patiently. That's why it's important to put out each idea one at a time, usually a single sentence. By posting more often in smaller increments, it prevents boredom and confusion.

The final thing to grasp at the first level of roleplaying is the one motion turn concept. I got this from the game Ninja, where on your turn you can only make one fluid motion. You can move and attack if it's in a fluid motion. If someone attacks you, and it's not your turn, you can perform one fluid motion to evade or block. How this looks in roleplaying in a game like The Matrix Online is I may type something, and have my character walk several paces, and then stop and wait for the next player to type something and/or move their character. Everyone moving in sequence like this can have overlap and syncronicity as long as everyone keeps the concept of moving in one fluid movement increments. This avoids some confusing scenarios where one character says something and walks off, then walks back where the first person is still standing because they've been typing the whole time.


Many people will be comfortable staying at the first level of roleplaying, and that's totally fine. It's a relaxing and comfortable style, free flowing, with no stress of potential long term injuries or death, and the burden of keeping track of stats and die rolls. Players come up with their own backgrounds gradually, and having a background isn't required to start roleplaying. All you need is a character concept, and you can jump right in.

At the next level we still do not add any die rolls or stats, but we write a detailed background and character concept including a physical description and personality. Here there is simply more focus on writing longer more substantial stories, and planning in-game events/missions instead of just casually hanging around or chatting in clubs.

The third level introduces die rolls. Once players are comfortable roleplaying, and aren't in that phase of still getting the hang of it, they can start incorporating some stats and die rolls. At this point we no longer rely on the in-game levelling system or combat. We can fully simulate combat with our own stats, and merely use in-game assets like mobs as tools (when combat is implemented in the game at least). Players start at level 1 (metaphoricaly, we don't use traditional levels in The Matrix), and their character concept should reflect this. In the first couple levels of roleplaying it was fine to make any kind of character you wanted, but now you actually need to start out as a novice character. Transitioning to this level can mean your previous roleplaying character would still be used as an NPC in events, and can still be roleplayed with at the Freeform level, but wouldn't be your main character for RP events at this level. Attributes are Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma, Faith, and Attractiveness. For combat rolls we use 2d10 instead of d20 so we get a nice percentile arch aimed at the middle. This means you're more likely to get an average result than an extreme result. There is no HP, instead we use a more realistic approach to damage and health. If you are shot in the arm, you have to roll for pain tolerance to avoid being stunned, and take bleeding and negative modifiers when performing any action involving that arm. Depending on your physical Attributes, you can withstand a certain amount of pain before being incapacitated.

Eventually things like Fatigue and armor coverage get added, but mechanics are introduced gradually so not to overwhelm players. It's important when implementing more mechanics to not loose focus of the fundamentals of roleplaying. The ideal is to have nice smooth flowing roleplay without bogging it down with too many rolls. Incorporating more mechanics doesn't mean you'll be rolling constantly, it just gives you more options.

At all levels it's important to remember the concept of taking 10. This means if you could succeed on a task by rolling a t10, it's safe to assume you can just automatically succeed at it as long as their no immediate challenge, like you're being attacked while performing the task, or there's a time pressure. This even includes attacking weak opponents. I've witnessed level 10 archers in D&D roll a 1 and fumble their attack when a goblin was charging at them. It's a goblin running straight towards them, and they're a skilled archer. Why would they need to roll to shoot it? That would literally be an effortless motion for someone with that much experience.

In all of this remember the main focus is playing your character in-character, and telling stories. I hope people will join me, and we can start making our own content and actually play together in the game without waiting for or relying on any combat, missions, or other content.

On Discord I'm Elmedain, and in-game I also have a character named Elmedain, which I've been using more than Zotis.]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2901 Sun, 31 Jul 2022 12:26:50 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2901
Long minutes crept by as the woman still hesitated. Answers lay within, she was promised. Isn't that what we all want? Answers to the mundane and existential? Well, here they lay, there upon the table. Why the hesitation? Maybe she didn't want the answers after all. Maybe the search was satisfying enough without the reward. Maybe everyone's memories were spotty and patchy. Maybe fear overwhelms curiosity...

Angry at herself, the young woman unceremoniously popped open the device. Her surroundings seemed to fall into complete blackness, the only light now a sickly green spilling from the screen, dripping from its top to its bottom like rivulets of rain composed of numbers and symbols. Soon words started to form amongst the chaos, first behind the lines but then forming superimposed over. Three words, to be exact. Three words swallowed the woman's consciousness, plopped it behind someone else's eyes.

You. Are. Fygment.

You stub out your cigarette underfoot as you walk along, flanked by two friends. You pay them little mind at the moment, enraptured by the voice on the other end of the cellphone you're currently holding to your ear. It was sultry and sinister, lightly vicious.

"You pull this off, Merv is gonna loosen that grip hes got on your leash. Told me himself.", the voice almost pleads.

"It's thanks to you I've even got one. You know Flood doesn't even return my calls anymore because of my hand in your little uprising.", you say, irritated at the prospect of doing yet another hare-brained favor for the Doberman mistress.

"That was kinda fun though, Fyg. Gotta admit.", smirked the man at your left. Dr9gon. One of the best coders you knew, and a Machinist.

"Yeah well that bit of fun also almost got the Acheron kicked out of Rubicon..", the woman at your right chided. This was SpinDoctor, your second in command onboard the hovercraft Acheron. The fleet you were a part of was named Rubicon. All craft within it took the names of mythological rivers.

"Yeah well you weren't tortured for days afterwards so cut me some slack.", the woman on the other end of the phone, Ookami, returned. "I'd figured me even vouching for the asshole would convince you this job was legit. This is big, Fygment. And serious."

You grumble into the cellphone as you walk into Dr9gon's club. He makes his way towards the back office, SpinDoctor hops behind the bar to rummage about, and you make your way to a booth in the back as you continue the conversation. "And why me? Merv's got a whole army at his beck and call."

"You're the best redpill Infiltrator he's got on payroll, Fygment. And you know that so don't play coy." That was possibly true, actually. Even at the very start of your redpill life you found it second nature to move about unseen, slipping in and out of places where you didn't belong. It's how you acquired your handle, after all. "And this job requires a redpill, not an Exile. A redpill that's known to be on the outs with their organization, better to sell the story."

You relent. Could be interesting and, well, you do enjoy the flattery and the kowtowing from an Exile as powerful as Ookami. "I dunno, we'll see. What've you got in the way of details?" Even though you would say yes, best not to show too much enthusiasm. Ruins the mystique.

"So you've seen these new people here and there, the ones with do-rags covering their mouths and sunglasses? Looking like wanna-be gangbangers?"

You nod, both to Ookami over the phone and SpinDoctor whom just arrived with a bottle of brandy and three glasses. "Yeah, some kinda new terrorist group so the story goes."

"Good, that's who you're gonna be getting close to. We don't know much, except one of the leaders is named Enmascarado and he'll be holding some kind of gathering at one of the churches in Mara."

"Actually I heard about the meeting part.", you say, pouring yourself a shot of liquor. "Though I heard the name 'Gemaskeerd' instead of the one you gave. Think I know the church too. Anyway, what's needed?"

"Merv just wants intel for now. You get buddy-buddy with these clowns, whatever it takes to gain their trust, and you pass on whatever info you get to ME alone.", she stresses the last words. "Me alone, you got that? Not Flood, not your fleet commander. Just me."

"Ooh, Ookie's gonna be my handler for this one, huh? Wanna see how it feels holding a leash for a change?", you jest.

"Don't fucking call me that!", Ookami snarled in your ear. "And this is fucking serious, you'd damn well take it seriously too if you know what's good for you." You took a swallow of brandy as the woman on the other end of the line paused to collect herself. "Really. I haven't seen the Merovingian this nervous in a long while. Anyways, I have to go. Pack's howling. What's it gonna be?"

"I was just kidding, hon. Sorry, sorry. But yeah, you got me. I'll contact you in a few days soon as I know whats what."

Without another word, the Exile hung up the phone on you. You grin at SpinDoctor and the recently arrived Dr9gon and lift up your glass. "Welp, looks like I'm gonna get in bed with terrorists, guys. Hooray?"]]>
Long minutes crept by as the woman still hesitated. Answers lay within, she was promised. Isn't that what we all want? Answers to the mundane and existential? Well, here they lay, there upon the table. Why the hesitation? Maybe she didn't want the answers after all. Maybe the search was satisfying enough without the reward. Maybe everyone's memories were spotty and patchy. Maybe fear overwhelms curiosity...

Angry at herself, the young woman unceremoniously popped open the device. Her surroundings seemed to fall into complete blackness, the only light now a sickly green spilling from the screen, dripping from its top to its bottom like rivulets of rain composed of numbers and symbols. Soon words started to form amongst the chaos, first behind the lines but then forming superimposed over. Three words, to be exact. Three words swallowed the woman's consciousness, plopped it behind someone else's eyes.

You. Are. Fygment.

You stub out your cigarette underfoot as you walk along, flanked by two friends. You pay them little mind at the moment, enraptured by the voice on the other end of the cellphone you're currently holding to your ear. It was sultry and sinister, lightly vicious.

"You pull this off, Merv is gonna loosen that grip hes got on your leash. Told me himself.", the voice almost pleads.

"It's thanks to you I've even got one. You know Flood doesn't even return my calls anymore because of my hand in your little uprising.", you say, irritated at the prospect of doing yet another hare-brained favor for the Doberman mistress.

"That was kinda fun though, Fyg. Gotta admit.", smirked the man at your left. Dr9gon. One of the best coders you knew, and a Machinist.

"Yeah well that bit of fun also almost got the Acheron kicked out of Rubicon..", the woman at your right chided. This was SpinDoctor, your second in command onboard the hovercraft Acheron. The fleet you were a part of was named Rubicon. All craft within it took the names of mythological rivers.

"Yeah well you weren't tortured for days afterwards so cut me some slack.", the woman on the other end of the phone, Ookami, returned. "I'd figured me even vouching for the asshole would convince you this job was legit. This is big, Fygment. And serious."

You grumble into the cellphone as you walk into Dr9gon's club. He makes his way towards the back office, SpinDoctor hops behind the bar to rummage about, and you make your way to a booth in the back as you continue the conversation. "And why me? Merv's got a whole army at his beck and call."

"You're the best redpill Infiltrator he's got on payroll, Fygment. And you know that so don't play coy." That was possibly true, actually. Even at the very start of your redpill life you found it second nature to move about unseen, slipping in and out of places where you didn't belong. It's how you acquired your handle, after all. "And this job requires a redpill, not an Exile. A redpill that's known to be on the outs with their organization, better to sell the story."

You relent. Could be interesting and, well, you do enjoy the flattery and the kowtowing from an Exile as powerful as Ookami. "I dunno, we'll see. What've you got in the way of details?" Even though you would say yes, best not to show too much enthusiasm. Ruins the mystique.

"So you've seen these new people here and there, the ones with do-rags covering their mouths and sunglasses? Looking like wanna-be gangbangers?"

You nod, both to Ookami over the phone and SpinDoctor whom just arrived with a bottle of brandy and three glasses. "Yeah, some kinda new terrorist group so the story goes."

"Good, that's who you're gonna be getting close to. We don't know much, except one of the leaders is named Enmascarado and he'll be holding some kind of gathering at one of the churches in Mara."

"Actually I heard about the meeting part.", you say, pouring yourself a shot of liquor. "Though I heard the name 'Gemaskeerd' instead of the one you gave. Think I know the church too. Anyway, what's needed?"

"Merv just wants intel for now. You get buddy-buddy with these clowns, whatever it takes to gain their trust, and you pass on whatever info you get to ME alone.", she stresses the last words. "Me alone, you got that? Not Flood, not your fleet commander. Just me."

"Ooh, Ookie's gonna be my handler for this one, huh? Wanna see how it feels holding a leash for a change?", you jest.

"Don't fucking call me that!", Ookami snarled in your ear. "And this is fucking serious, you'd damn well take it seriously too if you know what's good for you." You took a swallow of brandy as the woman on the other end of the line paused to collect herself. "Really. I haven't seen the Merovingian this nervous in a long while. Anyways, I have to go. Pack's howling. What's it gonna be?"

"I was just kidding, hon. Sorry, sorry. But yeah, you got me. I'll contact you in a few days soon as I know whats what."

Without another word, the Exile hung up the phone on you. You grin at SpinDoctor and the recently arrived Dr9gon and lift up your glass. "Welp, looks like I'm gonna get in bed with terrorists, guys. Hooray?"]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2760 Wed, 28 Jul 2021 14:21:55 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2760
It's been overlong since I sullied Paradise with my RSI footsteps. I gathered enough bytes of my old code to complete the reconstruction process. I was slow and hesitant, for safety and to a larger extent fear. I've found that my memories, gathered along with the fragments of my code, are splintered. As an exercise of preservation, I believe it behooves me to scribe what I can recall. Hopefully this shall become a resource.

I remember little of my time dressed in Blue, save for persistent images of a cell phone shattering at my feet, as if it were dropped from a great height.

I remember Zion, and my disgust for its uncleanliness and tribalism. I recall I was one of the last soiled with Red and spat out in the face of the cephalopodian Machines in a war I cared nothing about. I remember holding a crewmate by his webbing as he fired missiles at a cloud of those many armed, metallic soldiers. I recall being so mesmerized by the cloud of them, moving in unison like a beautiful school of fish, that I barely registered letting go of my crewmate. I didn't even watch as he fell to his death, though I heard it. His screams must have alerted the flock, as I have vivid recollections of a pair of them breaking off from the group to find and overpower me. I remember well the feel of their blades slicing me open, chassis crushing bone. Only for a handful of moments. For some reason, they stopped, and I lost consciousness as they carried my ruined meat down to Zion. My final thoughts were of how indescribably shit The Real was.

After the Truce, those of us whom wanted to jack back in to Paradise were allowed. Of course I leapt at the chance. Figuratively, as even with the help of the Machines my body was quadriplegic and in need of constant care. My meat was held in place by gauze and steel bars and plates. Due to this, only a few people would have me with them.

Thankfully, we were of like mind to spend most of our time in Paradise. My reasons for doing so I hope are clear. Eventually, I suppose, hedonism crept in and we decided to break away from Zion and throw our lot in with the Merovingian. If anyone knew how important it was to feel, to enjoy and to relish, it was he.]]>
It's been overlong since I sullied Paradise with my RSI footsteps. I gathered enough bytes of my old code to complete the reconstruction process. I was slow and hesitant, for safety and to a larger extent fear. I've found that my memories, gathered along with the fragments of my code, are splintered. As an exercise of preservation, I believe it behooves me to scribe what I can recall. Hopefully this shall become a resource.

I remember little of my time dressed in Blue, save for persistent images of a cell phone shattering at my feet, as if it were dropped from a great height.

I remember Zion, and my disgust for its uncleanliness and tribalism. I recall I was one of the last soiled with Red and spat out in the face of the cephalopodian Machines in a war I cared nothing about. I remember holding a crewmate by his webbing as he fired missiles at a cloud of those many armed, metallic soldiers. I recall being so mesmerized by the cloud of them, moving in unison like a beautiful school of fish, that I barely registered letting go of my crewmate. I didn't even watch as he fell to his death, though I heard it. His screams must have alerted the flock, as I have vivid recollections of a pair of them breaking off from the group to find and overpower me. I remember well the feel of their blades slicing me open, chassis crushing bone. Only for a handful of moments. For some reason, they stopped, and I lost consciousness as they carried my ruined meat down to Zion. My final thoughts were of how indescribably shit The Real was.

After the Truce, those of us whom wanted to jack back in to Paradise were allowed. Of course I leapt at the chance. Figuratively, as even with the help of the Machines my body was quadriplegic and in need of constant care. My meat was held in place by gauze and steel bars and plates. Due to this, only a few people would have me with them.

Thankfully, we were of like mind to spend most of our time in Paradise. My reasons for doing so I hope are clear. Eventually, I suppose, hedonism crept in and we decided to break away from Zion and throw our lot in with the Merovingian. If anyone knew how important it was to feel, to enjoy and to relish, it was he.]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2753 Thu, 27 May 2021 05:21:27 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2753

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:: A:\> LOGIN
:: Logged as: Calaeus
:: A:\> VRECSTART
:: Voice recording started
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

... I've been recently asked about what do I believe in. The answer to this particular question I knew, and it was in fact always known to me, even long before my awakening. For me, it was always truth and freedom; freedom of choice, freedom to live the way you want to live, to make the mistakes you want to make, to associate yourself with people you choose to be around, and so on. It is what makes us human after all, wanting to be free and to live our way, to have control over our own lives.

At the time of my blissful ignorance I have never been very close with many people regardless of my job that forced constant communication with people. I did my part, but remained on the side, carefully choosing who I want to be friends with. Not that there was plenty of people lining up to get to know me. Hell no. I have barely found a group of less than half a dozen people that somewhat shared my view on the world and my interests, so there wasn't too much freedom of choice there.

Frankly speaking, even those people didn't completely get me, so I couldn't really call them friends or anything like that. Whenever I'd share my thoughts, my concerns about how trapped I feel, how it seems there's something wrong with this world, they'd just shrug, look at me weird and tell me to change my job or something. But this wasn't it. There was something I could barely see at the corner of my eye, subtle signals that made me feel caged, like I didn't really have control of my life. I always valued my freedom, so that nagging feeling was driving me mad.

That feeling was not always there, but slowly started coming to me at some point, can't even remember when. It was growing somewhere at the back of my head, bleeding my mind with its thorns in the process. Small things started to catch my attention, some things that just didn't seem completely right. As the time passed, it was becoming more and more insufferable, and I felt like I need to find what the hell is going on, whether my observations and concerns were on point, or whether I'm simply going mad and need help.

And so I searched, I looked through the newspapers, the internet, I looked through all available media trying to piece together all the things that have been bothering me. The only people I kept close started to keep distance because of my pursuit, or maybe I kept them at distance because I was so focused on it. Either way, it took me a long time, but at some point I've found a trail I could follow. A trail of breadcrumbs, in a matter of speaking, one that would lead me to the answers I've been searching for.

There was this group of people existing behind a veil of secrecy, who were leaving subtle hints for people like me to follow. Along the way their cryptic messages about the system trapping and controlling us all made it more and more clear for me that I was in fact not losing it, not unless it was a contagious madness. So these cryptic messages were speaking of the system holding us, about our minds being imprisoned, and eventually about the Matrix and the way to break free.

I had to see to the end of this road, I had to get to the truth and in touch with these people to learn what they knew as they seemed to have the answers I needed. Looking way back at these events, it's hard for me to say whether I found them or they found me. What matters is that they contacted me and offered me those answers, to show me what Matrix is. And so I followed, finally meeting the people which were so difficult to find it took me ages to get in touch with them after first encountering their trail.

Grim looking people and weird machinery greeted me there, and I knew I was at the right place. It was there I learned that this nagging feeling I had for so long was not unjustified, that I was indeed trapped all my life and that the reality was not what it seemed. Then and there they gave me a choice whether to open my eyes and see the truth, or whether to remain chained in this life. There was no hesitation on my part that I can remember. Fear? Yes, but no hesitation. I had no idea where this road was leading and what was waiting for me at the end of it, but I had to know.

I have been brought to the real world, which was nothing like what I imagined. At first, I was scared, I could barely breathe. This reality was brutal, merciless, world at war, humanity versus machines in this nightmarish wasteland. It was not long before that war ended and the truce ended the hostilities. At that time, though, it was a fight for humanity's survival, and I was awakened nearly at the final moments of that fight. I have heard of the legendary crew of Nebuchadnezzar; Morpheus, Neo and the rest. I've learned of the prophecy and coming end of the war.

Still, it was a grim reality. People were fighting machines in the real world, and in the Matrix, jacking in and working towards freeing people still trapped and unaware of the truth. Many lives were lost, but so many have also been saved. While I was not sold on the whole prophecy thing, I believed in freedom and truth. I, like many others, was finally free. I've seen the truth of this world, as well as the truth of what some people can do. Morpheus devoted his life to free as many people as he could and to end this war, I respected him and looked up to him. So many of us did.

And so I wanted to do the same as Morpheus and others like him, help in this struggle and help save those people still stuck in their pods. I have volunteered and after some training and careful consideration I was enlisted and taught all I had to know to survive in the Matrix. I have learned abilities, and with a push of a button by the operator, that I never would have thought I'd one day learn. Once I jacked back into the Matrix as redpill, I was looking at this world from a whole new perspective.

Everything was different for me now that my eyes were open and I understood what this system was, a prison designed to keep us ignorant and abused. But as any prison, this one also had guardians, and very dangerous at that. I've learned about them in my training and hoped I would be lucky enough not to see them early on. Hope dies last, they say. Those machines were, and still are, ruthlessly efficient. Me, a rookie, got so close to death so fast back then, at the very beginning, I genuinely started to question whether I made the right choice enlisting. I was afraid.

Fear of meeting Agents in the Matrix paralyzed me. I wanted to help, I wanted to be free, but I also wanted to be alive. But seems that many rookies felt the same way at the beginning, any perhaps many of the Zion operatives feel the same way years into the service. So I fought through my fear and got back in, assisting in various operations, mostly intel retrieval, where I've met a few Exile programs, some of them dangerous and extremely hostile. The beginnings were tough, but this danger, in time, hardened me and while the fear was still there, I was beginning to be much more focused.

I grew braver and more confident as we were nearing the end of the war, as I've been helping during those operations, and as I've seen Morpheus in action and even Neo. I was very skeptical about the whole prophecy thing and The One back then, but once I've seen with my own eyes what he can do, and in the end learned of his ultimate sacrifice, my doubts were swept away. In the end I got to be there to witness the end of the war and the truce between us and the machines. I was proud that I was able to contribute, at least in a small bit, to this victory.

It was not that long after that everything started going to hell again. Zion suffered a major loss when Morpheus was killed, and then we acquired a new enemy we did not expect, a bunch of extremists called Cypherites, making travel through both, real world and the Matrix so much more dangerous. By then I was better prepared to handle dangers and fighting our enemies. Still, I have lost count how many times I got my ass handed to me and nearly got myself killed, sometimes by my own stupidity and cockiness. Some things never change, do they.

Today I know well enough the truth that freedom comes at a cost and the price is always high. There are also always those who want to take it away, because it's easier and perhaps safer to submit. I, for one, will continue fighting, regardless of how tough it will be or how many new enemies will emerge from the shadows trying to stop us from saving the others. As I'm looking back at all of this, I regret nothing. Had I known where I'd end up after eating that red pill, I would gladly pay this price for freedom.

For the Zion.
Calaeus out.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:: A:\> VRECSTOP
:: Voice recording stopped
:: A:\> SAVE
:: Voice recording saved in DIR B:\AUDIO\PERSONAL_LOG
:: A:\> LOGOUT
:: Logging out
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

]]>

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:: A:\> LOGIN
:: Logged as: Calaeus
:: A:\> VRECSTART
:: Voice recording started
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

... I've been recently asked about what do I believe in. The answer to this particular question I knew, and it was in fact always known to me, even long before my awakening. For me, it was always truth and freedom; freedom of choice, freedom to live the way you want to live, to make the mistakes you want to make, to associate yourself with people you choose to be around, and so on. It is what makes us human after all, wanting to be free and to live our way, to have control over our own lives.

At the time of my blissful ignorance I have never been very close with many people regardless of my job that forced constant communication with people. I did my part, but remained on the side, carefully choosing who I want to be friends with. Not that there was plenty of people lining up to get to know me. Hell no. I have barely found a group of less than half a dozen people that somewhat shared my view on the world and my interests, so there wasn't too much freedom of choice there.

Frankly speaking, even those people didn't completely get me, so I couldn't really call them friends or anything like that. Whenever I'd share my thoughts, my concerns about how trapped I feel, how it seems there's something wrong with this world, they'd just shrug, look at me weird and tell me to change my job or something. But this wasn't it. There was something I could barely see at the corner of my eye, subtle signals that made me feel caged, like I didn't really have control of my life. I always valued my freedom, so that nagging feeling was driving me mad.

That feeling was not always there, but slowly started coming to me at some point, can't even remember when. It was growing somewhere at the back of my head, bleeding my mind with its thorns in the process. Small things started to catch my attention, some things that just didn't seem completely right. As the time passed, it was becoming more and more insufferable, and I felt like I need to find what the hell is going on, whether my observations and concerns were on point, or whether I'm simply going mad and need help.

And so I searched, I looked through the newspapers, the internet, I looked through all available media trying to piece together all the things that have been bothering me. The only people I kept close started to keep distance because of my pursuit, or maybe I kept them at distance because I was so focused on it. Either way, it took me a long time, but at some point I've found a trail I could follow. A trail of breadcrumbs, in a matter of speaking, one that would lead me to the answers I've been searching for.

There was this group of people existing behind a veil of secrecy, who were leaving subtle hints for people like me to follow. Along the way their cryptic messages about the system trapping and controlling us all made it more and more clear for me that I was in fact not losing it, not unless it was a contagious madness. So these cryptic messages were speaking of the system holding us, about our minds being imprisoned, and eventually about the Matrix and the way to break free.

I had to see to the end of this road, I had to get to the truth and in touch with these people to learn what they knew as they seemed to have the answers I needed. Looking way back at these events, it's hard for me to say whether I found them or they found me. What matters is that they contacted me and offered me those answers, to show me what Matrix is. And so I followed, finally meeting the people which were so difficult to find it took me ages to get in touch with them after first encountering their trail.

Grim looking people and weird machinery greeted me there, and I knew I was at the right place. It was there I learned that this nagging feeling I had for so long was not unjustified, that I was indeed trapped all my life and that the reality was not what it seemed. Then and there they gave me a choice whether to open my eyes and see the truth, or whether to remain chained in this life. There was no hesitation on my part that I can remember. Fear? Yes, but no hesitation. I had no idea where this road was leading and what was waiting for me at the end of it, but I had to know.

I have been brought to the real world, which was nothing like what I imagined. At first, I was scared, I could barely breathe. This reality was brutal, merciless, world at war, humanity versus machines in this nightmarish wasteland. It was not long before that war ended and the truce ended the hostilities. At that time, though, it was a fight for humanity's survival, and I was awakened nearly at the final moments of that fight. I have heard of the legendary crew of Nebuchadnezzar; Morpheus, Neo and the rest. I've learned of the prophecy and coming end of the war.

Still, it was a grim reality. People were fighting machines in the real world, and in the Matrix, jacking in and working towards freeing people still trapped and unaware of the truth. Many lives were lost, but so many have also been saved. While I was not sold on the whole prophecy thing, I believed in freedom and truth. I, like many others, was finally free. I've seen the truth of this world, as well as the truth of what some people can do. Morpheus devoted his life to free as many people as he could and to end this war, I respected him and looked up to him. So many of us did.

And so I wanted to do the same as Morpheus and others like him, help in this struggle and help save those people still stuck in their pods. I have volunteered and after some training and careful consideration I was enlisted and taught all I had to know to survive in the Matrix. I have learned abilities, and with a push of a button by the operator, that I never would have thought I'd one day learn. Once I jacked back into the Matrix as redpill, I was looking at this world from a whole new perspective.

Everything was different for me now that my eyes were open and I understood what this system was, a prison designed to keep us ignorant and abused. But as any prison, this one also had guardians, and very dangerous at that. I've learned about them in my training and hoped I would be lucky enough not to see them early on. Hope dies last, they say. Those machines were, and still are, ruthlessly efficient. Me, a rookie, got so close to death so fast back then, at the very beginning, I genuinely started to question whether I made the right choice enlisting. I was afraid.

Fear of meeting Agents in the Matrix paralyzed me. I wanted to help, I wanted to be free, but I also wanted to be alive. But seems that many rookies felt the same way at the beginning, any perhaps many of the Zion operatives feel the same way years into the service. So I fought through my fear and got back in, assisting in various operations, mostly intel retrieval, where I've met a few Exile programs, some of them dangerous and extremely hostile. The beginnings were tough, but this danger, in time, hardened me and while the fear was still there, I was beginning to be much more focused.

I grew braver and more confident as we were nearing the end of the war, as I've been helping during those operations, and as I've seen Morpheus in action and even Neo. I was very skeptical about the whole prophecy thing and The One back then, but once I've seen with my own eyes what he can do, and in the end learned of his ultimate sacrifice, my doubts were swept away. In the end I got to be there to witness the end of the war and the truce between us and the machines. I was proud that I was able to contribute, at least in a small bit, to this victory.

It was not that long after that everything started going to hell again. Zion suffered a major loss when Morpheus was killed, and then we acquired a new enemy we did not expect, a bunch of extremists called Cypherites, making travel through both, real world and the Matrix so much more dangerous. By then I was better prepared to handle dangers and fighting our enemies. Still, I have lost count how many times I got my ass handed to me and nearly got myself killed, sometimes by my own stupidity and cockiness. Some things never change, do they.

Today I know well enough the truth that freedom comes at a cost and the price is always high. There are also always those who want to take it away, because it's easier and perhaps safer to submit. I, for one, will continue fighting, regardless of how tough it will be or how many new enemies will emerge from the shadows trying to stop us from saving the others. As I'm looking back at all of this, I regret nothing. Had I known where I'd end up after eating that red pill, I would gladly pay this price for freedom.

For the Zion.
Calaeus out.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
:: A:\> VRECSTOP
:: Voice recording stopped
:: A:\> SAVE
:: Voice recording saved in DIR B:\AUDIO\PERSONAL_LOG
:: A:\> LOGOUT
:: Logging out
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2750 Thu, 20 May 2021 00:36:18 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2750
I do not normally take public transit. However, my Toyota Hardbody truck was in the shop with an alternator issue. Thankfully, I was able to work out of the shop while my truck was being repaired. I got onto the MegaCity Transit Bus at Mara, I was going to take it to Camon, then get onto the subway to the International District. I had a small apartment in Sai Kung, which made me a bit of an outsider. However, the apartment was cheap, and it was quiet. I managed to integrate myself by doing local chores and helping the landlady with small electrical problems around the complex. I even became a member of the local Dojo; I was starting to learn Aikido for self defense as well as a form of meditation.

The bus squeaked to a stop and I stepped on, there was already an array of the city’s citizens on the bus, I managed to find myself a window seat in the back. In my hands, I held a paperback copy of an Urban Fantasy novel. I had forgotten the name or the author, it had been a long time and some details escape me. I do not read the newspaper and I usually have the TV on at a low volume for background noise. I live by myself and sometimes a little background noise can make my tiny apartment seem less lonely. There has been rumbling around town about terrorist activities. A new subgroup of people calling themselves Redpills. I did not pay much attention to it, what is another gang or subgroup added to this city? What are the redpills going to do, spray paint Anarchy signs on depilated walls and bring even more trash to the barrens in Westview?

The bus was running along one of the cities freeways, a semi-quick way to get around town that did not have an overabundance of traffic lights. You also got a chance to see some of the beauty of MegaCity. However, it happened when the bus was passing by an industrial building. I was nose deep in my book when I suddenly looked up and saw the degradation of reality all around me. The world changed from physical metal and glass to green numbers and katakana lettering. As soon as it started, it was over, and I was in pitch black. Suddenly I found myself unable to breathe. I was gagging on something and drowning at the same time. I did not know what was going on; was I dead, was I still alive, am I in Purgatory? I waved my arms and legs and got them tangled in wires or tubes. I started to drift in and out of consciousness. Then something behind me opened and what sounded like a large vacuum, everything fell out and I was in free fall. In the falling darkness, I felt something hit my left leg and I felt sharp hot shearing pain shooting throughout my left leg and hips. I let out a painful scream that was silenced by my body crashing into a body of liquid.

I woke up in my bed in Sai Kung. The soft light of the neighborhood flowed into my bedroom as I twisted in my bed to look out the window. It was a clear night, stars twinkling, and the lights of aircrafts in the skies. After I pushed the covers from me, I grabbed my robe and walked out of my apartment, headed to the roof. On the roof I could see the outdoor furniture my landlady had set up a long time ago. She set up a couple of tables and chairs, she was sitting at one of the tables with a cigarette in her hand. She studied me as I walked over and sat down on a chair at her table.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Had a nightmare, I was taking the bus to a subway station to get back here and there was a…terrorist attack?”
She studied me before taking another drag of her cigarette, letting out a slow stream of smoke into the night sky. “Sometimes, dreams are so real, they feel like an alternative reality.”
“Well yes, but by the end of the day, they’re just dreams. They can’t hurt us, and we always wake up.”
Her eyes pierced my body, “Tell that to the Hmong, many of them have died in their sleep, some of them died screaming.”
“Like the movie Nightmare on Elm Street.”
She scoffed as if I offended her, “Reality is often harsher and more brutal than Western slop,” she replied derisively.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“What’s important now is that you stay with us, you are aboard a Zion Medical Hoverbarge.”
“Wait what?”

“You are aboard a Zion Medical Hoverbarge, Britannic. Please state your name.”
The world of my apartment building’s roof faded into inky black, everything faded into blackness. My head started pounding and the sharp pain in my left leg returned. I tried to scream but felt my jaw was locked in place. Noise, horrible noise of people rushing, talking and screaming began to feel the void. Mechanical noise such as beeping, and suctioning came and faded into the background.

“My name is…Sean.”]]>
I do not normally take public transit. However, my Toyota Hardbody truck was in the shop with an alternator issue. Thankfully, I was able to work out of the shop while my truck was being repaired. I got onto the MegaCity Transit Bus at Mara, I was going to take it to Camon, then get onto the subway to the International District. I had a small apartment in Sai Kung, which made me a bit of an outsider. However, the apartment was cheap, and it was quiet. I managed to integrate myself by doing local chores and helping the landlady with small electrical problems around the complex. I even became a member of the local Dojo; I was starting to learn Aikido for self defense as well as a form of meditation.

The bus squeaked to a stop and I stepped on, there was already an array of the city’s citizens on the bus, I managed to find myself a window seat in the back. In my hands, I held a paperback copy of an Urban Fantasy novel. I had forgotten the name or the author, it had been a long time and some details escape me. I do not read the newspaper and I usually have the TV on at a low volume for background noise. I live by myself and sometimes a little background noise can make my tiny apartment seem less lonely. There has been rumbling around town about terrorist activities. A new subgroup of people calling themselves Redpills. I did not pay much attention to it, what is another gang or subgroup added to this city? What are the redpills going to do, spray paint Anarchy signs on depilated walls and bring even more trash to the barrens in Westview?

The bus was running along one of the cities freeways, a semi-quick way to get around town that did not have an overabundance of traffic lights. You also got a chance to see some of the beauty of MegaCity. However, it happened when the bus was passing by an industrial building. I was nose deep in my book when I suddenly looked up and saw the degradation of reality all around me. The world changed from physical metal and glass to green numbers and katakana lettering. As soon as it started, it was over, and I was in pitch black. Suddenly I found myself unable to breathe. I was gagging on something and drowning at the same time. I did not know what was going on; was I dead, was I still alive, am I in Purgatory? I waved my arms and legs and got them tangled in wires or tubes. I started to drift in and out of consciousness. Then something behind me opened and what sounded like a large vacuum, everything fell out and I was in free fall. In the falling darkness, I felt something hit my left leg and I felt sharp hot shearing pain shooting throughout my left leg and hips. I let out a painful scream that was silenced by my body crashing into a body of liquid.

I woke up in my bed in Sai Kung. The soft light of the neighborhood flowed into my bedroom as I twisted in my bed to look out the window. It was a clear night, stars twinkling, and the lights of aircrafts in the skies. After I pushed the covers from me, I grabbed my robe and walked out of my apartment, headed to the roof. On the roof I could see the outdoor furniture my landlady had set up a long time ago. She set up a couple of tables and chairs, she was sitting at one of the tables with a cigarette in her hand. She studied me as I walked over and sat down on a chair at her table.
“Can’t sleep?”
“Had a nightmare, I was taking the bus to a subway station to get back here and there was a…terrorist attack?”
She studied me before taking another drag of her cigarette, letting out a slow stream of smoke into the night sky. “Sometimes, dreams are so real, they feel like an alternative reality.”
“Well yes, but by the end of the day, they’re just dreams. They can’t hurt us, and we always wake up.”
Her eyes pierced my body, “Tell that to the Hmong, many of them have died in their sleep, some of them died screaming.”
“Like the movie Nightmare on Elm Street.”
She scoffed as if I offended her, “Reality is often harsher and more brutal than Western slop,” she replied derisively.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It was the only thing I could think of.”
“What’s important now is that you stay with us, you are aboard a Zion Medical Hoverbarge.”
“Wait what?”

“You are aboard a Zion Medical Hoverbarge, Britannic. Please state your name.”
The world of my apartment building’s roof faded into inky black, everything faded into blackness. My head started pounding and the sharp pain in my left leg returned. I tried to scream but felt my jaw was locked in place. Noise, horrible noise of people rushing, talking and screaming began to feel the void. Mechanical noise such as beeping, and suctioning came and faded into the background.

“My name is…Sean.”]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2725 Fri, 15 Jan 2021 04:19:00 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2725
**************************

I love her. I will always love her. Even though I am killing her.

She is so beautiful. She has the kind of face that brightens up the room, and my day. Her loving eyes inject warmth inside me when the world is cold. But tonight, she has the kind of eyes that make me sob in absolute misery. And it is all my fault.

My stomach is in a knot. My eyes are shut so tightly. My eyeballs feel like they are going to pop. My face crunched up in agony. I cannot breathe from my congested nose. Chest deflated. Unable to inhale because my lungs are stuck in an exhale. My throat closed from the lump. The acid in my stomach boiling over and burning my chest. All the pressure desperately trying to escape from my forehead. The feeling of cracks in my skull, the pain breaking through.

``````````````````````````````````````
“You don’t have to make me feel this way.”

“I’m sorry,” I barely muster as I turn and walk away. The door shuts behind her and I can hear her pain. It echoes in my head. Echoes and echoes and echoes. And every time I hear her in my head my heart tares more and more. To kill someone you love. To cause the pain you took away so many times.

The exit cannot get here any faster. The blur of the doorway in my salty, glazed eyes. I shut the door and let it all out. The sound of a million hearts breaking at once.

``````````````````````````````````````
They come to you when you are at your lowest. When you are desperate. I am both.

They tell me the things I want to hear. I may never forgive myself, but I can forget. And I may deserve this prison.

So I tell them what they want to know. Another sin I’ll burn for. Obvious smiles from underneath their bandanas.

I hold it in my hand. The exit cannot get here any faster. The blur of the doorway in my salty, glazed eyes. I place it over my tongue, back in my throat. I swallow the water rapidly hoping it will choke me. It all hit my chest at the same time, like swallowing a brick that crashes in my stomach.

Keep a hold of yourself. Subdue the emotions. Don’t throw this up. It will take effect soon.

Drowsiness. My eyelids slide over my retinas, slowly. I used to see blackness when I shut my eyes. I used to see her. Now all I see is… blue.]]>
**************************

I love her. I will always love her. Even though I am killing her.

She is so beautiful. She has the kind of face that brightens up the room, and my day. Her loving eyes inject warmth inside me when the world is cold. But tonight, she has the kind of eyes that make me sob in absolute misery. And it is all my fault.

My stomach is in a knot. My eyes are shut so tightly. My eyeballs feel like they are going to pop. My face crunched up in agony. I cannot breathe from my congested nose. Chest deflated. Unable to inhale because my lungs are stuck in an exhale. My throat closed from the lump. The acid in my stomach boiling over and burning my chest. All the pressure desperately trying to escape from my forehead. The feeling of cracks in my skull, the pain breaking through.

``````````````````````````````````````
“You don’t have to make me feel this way.”

“I’m sorry,” I barely muster as I turn and walk away. The door shuts behind her and I can hear her pain. It echoes in my head. Echoes and echoes and echoes. And every time I hear her in my head my heart tares more and more. To kill someone you love. To cause the pain you took away so many times.

The exit cannot get here any faster. The blur of the doorway in my salty, glazed eyes. I shut the door and let it all out. The sound of a million hearts breaking at once.

``````````````````````````````````````
They come to you when you are at your lowest. When you are desperate. I am both.

They tell me the things I want to hear. I may never forgive myself, but I can forget. And I may deserve this prison.

So I tell them what they want to know. Another sin I’ll burn for. Obvious smiles from underneath their bandanas.

I hold it in my hand. The exit cannot get here any faster. The blur of the doorway in my salty, glazed eyes. I place it over my tongue, back in my throat. I swallow the water rapidly hoping it will choke me. It all hit my chest at the same time, like swallowing a brick that crashes in my stomach.

Keep a hold of yourself. Subdue the emotions. Don’t throw this up. It will take effect soon.

Drowsiness. My eyelids slide over my retinas, slowly. I used to see blackness when I shut my eyes. I used to see her. Now all I see is… blue.]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2724 Wed, 13 Jan 2021 21:25:49 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2724
Part 1: A Case of the Blues

Tossing and turning, Kierra drenched the bed in her sweat. Or was it her sweat? In the dream the rain was pouring, and pouring. A deluge without end. Lightning flashed, and she saw the row of identical men standing in-front of her on the other side of the street. Another flash of lightning, the world turned green as windows shattered and a loud boom and shock-wave filled the street. A piece of glass fell in front her face, and she saw a face in the reflection that was not her own, sneering. Kierra woke up with a gasp and sat up straight in bed, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.
After she collected herself she looked over to her right and saw her midnight rendezvous still asleep. Typical, she thought to herself. She sighed and spun herself around, putting one foot on her discarded panties on the floor and sliding into them. She looked over to the dresser and found her hair tie and tied her blond hair into a quickly made messy bun. She got out of bed and put on the rest of her clothes: a black t-shirt with a frowning red face, some torn up jeans, and scuffed up boots. She looked out the window to get her bearings, I ended up in Westview... again? What am I doing with my life? She sighed, and her breath condensed against the window. She slapped her pockets to make sure she still had her wallet and keys, and slipped out the door without saying good-bye.
---------------------------------------------------------
"So it was the exact same dream? Then you took the subway home back to your apartment in Richland? Couldn't sleep for the rest of the night? And still no auditory or visual hallucinations, correct?" The therapist bit on the cap of her pen after she stopped jotting down notes.
Kierra nodded, "Yeah, not a wink. And nope. I'm feeling really drained... and when I do have energy I.. well, act out a bit."

The therapist jotted down notes again, "Yes, it fits your pattern. Didn't get this one's number either?"
Kierra smirked, "No, no I didn't. Even if I wasn't in this frame of mind I wouldn't have anyway."
The therapist adjusted herself in her seat, leaning forward. "And you're sure you've never seen the face of this man in your dream? Not a friend, relative? Past lover? This could be your subconscious attempting to recall a past trauma."
Kierra layed back on her chain, her hands behind her head closing her eyes. "No, I've never seen him before in my life. And he definitely would not have been a boyfriend or a hook up of mine, trust me."
The therapist opened a drawer from the desk next to her and pulled out a pill bottle. "Ms. Portman, you've been here enough times now to say that my therapy is not assisting you the way I hoped. It's time for some medicative therapy as well."

Kierra looked at the blue pills in the bottle, "What are those?"
"Slumberall," the therapist shook the bottle, "Enough to get you through the week until your next appointment. They are a new sleep aid, they also assist in helping you not remember your dreams. Take one at night, before you sleep, and you'll stay asleep."
Kierra leaned forward and took the pill bottle, her blue eyes reflecting on the bottle's surface. "Just the one? What if it doesn't work?"
The therapist looked at her watch, and then closed the drawer shut. "One is all you need, I will see you next week at the same time? And I am hoping to hear some positive news as well."

Kierra stood up and straightened out her shirt, "Thanks Doc, me too. I'm off to see my mom and sister, it's our TV night together. See you next week!" Kierra left the office, and the therapist stared out the window overlooking the city. A few minutes later a knock came from the door.
"Come in." The therapist heard the door open and heavy foot steps walk into the room. She turned her head and saw a tall man in a suit, shades still on even though inside, and a white ear piece. "There's been no change in her case, you can find the note pad on top of the table. I gave her the slumberall as you instructed."
The man picked up the note pad and flipped through it. "Yes. I see she still has no hallucinations," the man said in a monotone voice, "the slumberall might prove to be beneficial for her case."
"Yes, Agent. I hope so. I don't want to read another obituary." The therapist sighed. "How many people did you say are having this mass hysteria? I've had over a dozen cases alone."
The Agent put the note pad back down on the desk. "That does not concern you. We require your compliance as this investigation continues." The Agent walked to the door. "Ensure your other patients receive the slumberall, we must collect more data." The door closed with a heavy slam.
The therapist rubbed her temples with her fingers and sighed, "Yes, Agent Gray."
------------------------------
Kierra stepped out of the Taxi and paid her driver. She took the bottle of slumberall out of her pocket and rattled it around. I hope this works. Upstairs in her apartment she quickly hid her dirty clothes and did a brisk cleaning before her mother and sister were scheduled to arrive. She put in a large bag of popcorn into the microwave and with the first few pop pop pops came along with knock knock knocks at the door. Kierra looked at the mirror near the door and made a few final adjustments to her hair before opening the door. "Mom, Sharon! I've got the pop-corn on!" Kierra hugged her mom and sister.
Sharon looked around the apartment, "Not hiding any boys in here again are you?"
Kierra smirked, "No, just an attractive girl I met at the club last night."
Kierra's mom smacked her arm, "Shush, behave yourself. You know I don't like that kind of talk."
Kierra rolled her eyes, "Yes ma'am, come sit down, I'll get the popcorn. Turn on the TV, Buddies is about to come on."
Kierra's mother and sister sat on the couch waiting for Kierra to bring the popcorn, Sharon stretched out. "So, you haven't been Downtown lately have you? There was another bombing."
Kierra opened the microwave and pulled out the bag, "Another one? That's crazy. I can't believe this kind of thing is happening." She opened the bag and poured the popcorn into a large bowl. "Was anybody killed?"
The mother sighed loudly, "Do we really have to talk about this depressing stuff? This is supposed to be our happy night." Kierra's sister turned around and mouthed yes. Kierra's mother gave her a slap on the leg.
Kierra plopped down between them on the couch, the popcorn on top of her legs. "Well, I'm glad you are both here safe and sound. If something happened to y'all I would probably actually snap."
Kierra's mom rubbed her shoulder, "We aren't going anywhere sweety, but since you brought it up... how is your therapy going?"
Kierra shrugged, "Fine I guess, still having the same nightmare. But, and I know you don't like this kind of thing, but she gave me some medicine to help me sleep."
The mom squinted at Kierra, "What kind?"
Kierra took out the pill bottle, "Slubmerall, it's a sleep aid, but it also apparently makes you forget dreams."
Sharon snatched the pill bottle from Kiera's fingers. "Oh? So it does something to your brain then? I really am going to have an even crazier sister, huh?"
Kierra grabbed the bottle back, "Shut up! And no, she only gave me enough for a week. I'll be fine."
Sharon smiled, "Well good, how about I drive you up there next week? I need to do some shoe shopping near by anyway."
Their mom groaned, "With whose money? You still don't have a job?"
The sisters laughed. Kierra shushed the room, "The show is about to start!"
----------------------------------------
The show came and went, and so did her family. Kierra took a shower and brushed her teeth while wearing only a towel wrapped around her hair. She modeled for herself in-front of the mirror, squeezing one side of her tummy. I need to cut back on the bread. She looked down near the sink and saw the Slumberall pill bottle. "Well, I hope you little guys do your job, mamma is tired." Kierra yawned and opened the bottle and took one pill in her hand. She swallowed it along with a swig of water. She squinted one eye, and then the other before opening her mouth. Hmm, no bleeding eyes and no foaming at the mouth, guess I'm ok.
After leaving the bathroom she jumped into her bed and turned on the TV. "This is the 10 O'clock news, and first our top international story: an outbreak of the Ebola virus has infected hundreds and killed dozens in the impoverished country of..." Kierra changed the channel, Always depressing shit out in the world... guess I won't be dreaming about it through. Kierra, not finding anything to watch, turned off the TV. Her room was quiet and still, the only noise was the ambient sounds of the city. She closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes, and sun light washed into the room. She sprung up from bed and looked at the clock. 9 AM?! Kierra quickly put on some deodorant and threw on some clothes for work before stumbling out the door.
Work came and went, and besides getting a small lecture from her boss she had a good day. She had a good cup of coffee, made her sales, chatted with her coworkers, and did not feel drowsy for the entire day. It was Tuesday, which meant 2 for 1 Burger Night at her favorite pub. She arrived before the crowd of non-regulars arrived and sat down at the bar. "Hey Paul, how are ya? I'll have a Guinness and put me down for the bacon cheddar cheese burger with the cheese fries...", she pinched the side of her tummy, "ok, no cheese on the fries. Just a side of fries."
A man sitting next to her cleared his throat, "Whoa, I've never seen a woman order a Guinness before. Kudos to you."
Kierra sighed and turned towards him, "Don't get out much, do ya?" Kierra looked him up and down, he was wearing a black fedora with a black shirt and gray jeans. Kierra sighed and rolled her eyes, "I guess you don't."
The man smiled, "Hey now, I guess I deserved a little bit of that. What's wrong with my look?"
"All I see is that God damn ugly hat, you going to be wearing a trench coat next?" Kierra responded playfully.
The man took off his hat revealing his dark hair, green eyes, and perfectly stubble beard. "There, is that better?"
Kierra smiled, "A lot bit better", Kierra put his hand on his leg "you should really keep that damned hat off." She took her hand off his leg and grabbed her beer. "And also, no trench coat. Too much of that around here lately." She takes a sip from, leaving behind a foam mustache. "I mean, have you seen them? They are all just standing around Mara courtyard doing who knows what."
The man laughed, "Yes, actually I have." He takes a napkin and holds it in front of Kierra. "May I?" Kierra nods and the man gently wipes away her foam mustache. "A man dressed kind of like a priest came up to me, telling me we have all been asleep for too long and we must be awakened. Seemed very weird to me."
Kierra giggled, "Well, not me. I haven't been getting enough. I'm on sleeping pills now though, and they seem to be helping a bit."
The man smirked and grabbed hold of her beer and slides it towards himself, "Well now, you shouldn't be drinking this then. Y'don't need to be mixing alcohol and medicine."
Kierra grabbed his wrist and smiled, "Mm, don't come between me and my alcohol, please..." she slid the drink back towards her, "-- what is your name by the way, I'm Kierra."
The man put his other hand on top of hers while it's still grasped on his wrist. "Mine's Robert, Robert Williams. Nice to meet you, and that drink is on me."
Kierra smiled, "Well, you do have my attention now Rob."
------------------------
A couple hours pass, and clean dishes and glasses sit in front of Robert and Kierra. Robert patted his stomach, "Well then, did you inject me with some Sodium Pentothal when you grabbed my wrist earlier? I don't think I've told my whole back story to a stranger like that."
Kierra smiled, leaning in closer towards Robert. "Well, I don't think we're strangers anymore Robbywobby, hic, oh excuse me."
Robert laughed, "You going to need some help getting home?"
Kierra smirked, "No, no-- if I was still down in the dumps I'd take you up on that offer. But... I'll just give you my number instead."
Robert raised his eyebrows, "Offer? What... oh no, that's not what I meant at all!"
Kierra wrote her number down on a napkin and put it into his hat on the counter. "Oh no, it isn't? That's too bad." She smiled, "But then again, you did get some action just last night from that girl with green hair you met at Club Succubus. I'm sure that was wild."
Robert coughed, "It was... something." Robert took the note out of his hat and slipped it into his wallet. "So, time to go home?"
Kierra looked at the clock. "Yeah, I need to take my medicine and get some sleep before work." She leans towards him and whispers into his ear, her body barely pressing against him "And please, please, get rid of the hat." She pulls away and giggles playfully.
"No promises, it's part of who I am." Robert put back on his fedora and stood up.
Kierra gagged, "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick, excuse me." She slapped several a few twenties down on the table, and made fake vomiting noises as she left the room.
Robert sighed and looked at the bartender, "Well, she's a character isn't she?" The bartender shrugged and laughed as he turned around to make more drinks.
-------------------------------------------
Kierra sat relaxed in her sister's car as her sister drove her to a therapy appointment.
"Well it's been a week! So, you sure there are no side effects?" Sharon asked her sister as she turned the steering wheel.
"Besides me being in a better mood and actually getting some sleep? No, none at all." Kierra twirled the empty pill bottle between her fingers as she responded.
"That's great! I'm really happy this is working for you, we were worried about you." Sharon turned the dial on the radio to change the station.
"It really is, I'm going to ask the doctor for more once I get up there. You sure you don't mind waiting for me? The appointment lasts an hour." Kierra inquired to her sister.
"Nah, gives me some time to get my shoppin' in." She turned in at the parking lot. "Ok, we're here!"
Kierra turned and looked towards the building. "That's weird, looks like there's some kind of protest. I wonder what's going on." Kierra opened the door and stepped out onto the side walk.
Sharon stepped out of the car as well, "Guess I'll park here and walk to the store, let me walk you to the door, that crowd looks pretty shifty."
Kierra smiled, "Sure thing sis."
The two sisters walked towards the building and neared the protest. A man dressed like a priest in a strange robe stood at the top of the stair case, "...has lied to you! This world is a fabrication! We know you're listening, we know you're out there! This will continue until you return The One and Trinity's bodies to us!"
Kierra whispered to her sister, "Is he talking about Jesus and the Holy Trinity? This guy's nuts." Sharon nodded quickly in response and stood closer to her big sister. Kierra heard a strange screeching sound and did a double take as she saw a man in a black suit and glasses standing where a woman in the crowd once stood. He pulled out a gun and fired at the man protesting. Kierra grabbed her sister and ducked down with her, but she saw something impossible: the man seemed to dodge most of the bullets... most. The man was flung back after being hit in the shoulder.
"E pluribus unum, e pluribus Neo!" the wounded man shouted as he hit a device in his hand. A bright green flash temporarily blinded Kierra and as her vision cleared she saw the world begin to crumble around her. The walls of the building turned into a wall of flowing symbols and numbers, and the ground gave way to a black void. People in the crowd began to convulse as their bodies began to turn into the green code as well, some of them began to sink into the black void. The Agent walked past them undeterred and shot the wounded man in the head. He looked out into the crowd and began to convulse as well, but his body disappeared and the body of the woman Kierra saw previously stood in his place.
"What the fuck, what the fuck, Sharon..." Sharon laid on the ground convulsing, her body being pulled into the black void. The void began to swarm her body and enter her mouth as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Sharon!" Kierra screamed as she grabbed her sister by the shoulders and attempted to pull her back in. Her body began to flicker between human and the strange code. Kierra fell backwards startled, and the black void began to take her as well. She saw flashes again of her nightmare, the same code. A man in a similar priest outfit fighting... fighting in the sky against a man in a suit. Her vision switched back to her current situation, and her sister lied dead on the ground next to her. Kierra screamed as the void swarmed up her body and overtook her.
Then there was blackness. A feeling of warmth. Then all she could see was red.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2: A Tough Pill to Swallow (coming soon)]]>
Part 1: A Case of the Blues

Tossing and turning, Kierra drenched the bed in her sweat. Or was it her sweat? In the dream the rain was pouring, and pouring. A deluge without end. Lightning flashed, and she saw the row of identical men standing in-front of her on the other side of the street. Another flash of lightning, the world turned green as windows shattered and a loud boom and shock-wave filled the street. A piece of glass fell in front her face, and she saw a face in the reflection that was not her own, sneering. Kierra woke up with a gasp and sat up straight in bed, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.
After she collected herself she looked over to her right and saw her midnight rendezvous still asleep. Typical, she thought to herself. She sighed and spun herself around, putting one foot on her discarded panties on the floor and sliding into them. She looked over to the dresser and found her hair tie and tied her blond hair into a quickly made messy bun. She got out of bed and put on the rest of her clothes: a black t-shirt with a frowning red face, some torn up jeans, and scuffed up boots. She looked out the window to get her bearings, I ended up in Westview... again? What am I doing with my life? She sighed, and her breath condensed against the window. She slapped her pockets to make sure she still had her wallet and keys, and slipped out the door without saying good-bye.
---------------------------------------------------------
"So it was the exact same dream? Then you took the subway home back to your apartment in Richland? Couldn't sleep for the rest of the night? And still no auditory or visual hallucinations, correct?" The therapist bit on the cap of her pen after she stopped jotting down notes.
Kierra nodded, "Yeah, not a wink. And nope. I'm feeling really drained... and when I do have energy I.. well, act out a bit."

The therapist jotted down notes again, "Yes, it fits your pattern. Didn't get this one's number either?"
Kierra smirked, "No, no I didn't. Even if I wasn't in this frame of mind I wouldn't have anyway."
The therapist adjusted herself in her seat, leaning forward. "And you're sure you've never seen the face of this man in your dream? Not a friend, relative? Past lover? This could be your subconscious attempting to recall a past trauma."
Kierra layed back on her chain, her hands behind her head closing her eyes. "No, I've never seen him before in my life. And he definitely would not have been a boyfriend or a hook up of mine, trust me."
The therapist opened a drawer from the desk next to her and pulled out a pill bottle. "Ms. Portman, you've been here enough times now to say that my therapy is not assisting you the way I hoped. It's time for some medicative therapy as well."

Kierra looked at the blue pills in the bottle, "What are those?"
"Slumberall," the therapist shook the bottle, "Enough to get you through the week until your next appointment. They are a new sleep aid, they also assist in helping you not remember your dreams. Take one at night, before you sleep, and you'll stay asleep."
Kierra leaned forward and took the pill bottle, her blue eyes reflecting on the bottle's surface. "Just the one? What if it doesn't work?"
The therapist looked at her watch, and then closed the drawer shut. "One is all you need, I will see you next week at the same time? And I am hoping to hear some positive news as well."

Kierra stood up and straightened out her shirt, "Thanks Doc, me too. I'm off to see my mom and sister, it's our TV night together. See you next week!" Kierra left the office, and the therapist stared out the window overlooking the city. A few minutes later a knock came from the door.
"Come in." The therapist heard the door open and heavy foot steps walk into the room. She turned her head and saw a tall man in a suit, shades still on even though inside, and a white ear piece. "There's been no change in her case, you can find the note pad on top of the table. I gave her the slumberall as you instructed."
The man picked up the note pad and flipped through it. "Yes. I see she still has no hallucinations," the man said in a monotone voice, "the slumberall might prove to be beneficial for her case."
"Yes, Agent. I hope so. I don't want to read another obituary." The therapist sighed. "How many people did you say are having this mass hysteria? I've had over a dozen cases alone."
The Agent put the note pad back down on the desk. "That does not concern you. We require your compliance as this investigation continues." The Agent walked to the door. "Ensure your other patients receive the slumberall, we must collect more data." The door closed with a heavy slam.
The therapist rubbed her temples with her fingers and sighed, "Yes, Agent Gray."
------------------------------
Kierra stepped out of the Taxi and paid her driver. She took the bottle of slumberall out of her pocket and rattled it around. I hope this works. Upstairs in her apartment she quickly hid her dirty clothes and did a brisk cleaning before her mother and sister were scheduled to arrive. She put in a large bag of popcorn into the microwave and with the first few pop pop pops came along with knock knock knocks at the door. Kierra looked at the mirror near the door and made a few final adjustments to her hair before opening the door. "Mom, Sharon! I've got the pop-corn on!" Kierra hugged her mom and sister.
Sharon looked around the apartment, "Not hiding any boys in here again are you?"
Kierra smirked, "No, just an attractive girl I met at the club last night."
Kierra's mom smacked her arm, "Shush, behave yourself. You know I don't like that kind of talk."
Kierra rolled her eyes, "Yes ma'am, come sit down, I'll get the popcorn. Turn on the TV, Buddies is about to come on."
Kierra's mother and sister sat on the couch waiting for Kierra to bring the popcorn, Sharon stretched out. "So, you haven't been Downtown lately have you? There was another bombing."
Kierra opened the microwave and pulled out the bag, "Another one? That's crazy. I can't believe this kind of thing is happening." She opened the bag and poured the popcorn into a large bowl. "Was anybody killed?"
The mother sighed loudly, "Do we really have to talk about this depressing stuff? This is supposed to be our happy night." Kierra's sister turned around and mouthed yes. Kierra's mother gave her a slap on the leg.
Kierra plopped down between them on the couch, the popcorn on top of her legs. "Well, I'm glad you are both here safe and sound. If something happened to y'all I would probably actually snap."
Kierra's mom rubbed her shoulder, "We aren't going anywhere sweety, but since you brought it up... how is your therapy going?"
Kierra shrugged, "Fine I guess, still having the same nightmare. But, and I know you don't like this kind of thing, but she gave me some medicine to help me sleep."
The mom squinted at Kierra, "What kind?"
Kierra took out the pill bottle, "Slubmerall, it's a sleep aid, but it also apparently makes you forget dreams."
Sharon snatched the pill bottle from Kiera's fingers. "Oh? So it does something to your brain then? I really am going to have an even crazier sister, huh?"
Kierra grabbed the bottle back, "Shut up! And no, she only gave me enough for a week. I'll be fine."
Sharon smiled, "Well good, how about I drive you up there next week? I need to do some shoe shopping near by anyway."
Their mom groaned, "With whose money? You still don't have a job?"
The sisters laughed. Kierra shushed the room, "The show is about to start!"
----------------------------------------
The show came and went, and so did her family. Kierra took a shower and brushed her teeth while wearing only a towel wrapped around her hair. She modeled for herself in-front of the mirror, squeezing one side of her tummy. I need to cut back on the bread. She looked down near the sink and saw the Slumberall pill bottle. "Well, I hope you little guys do your job, mamma is tired." Kierra yawned and opened the bottle and took one pill in her hand. She swallowed it along with a swig of water. She squinted one eye, and then the other before opening her mouth. Hmm, no bleeding eyes and no foaming at the mouth, guess I'm ok.
After leaving the bathroom she jumped into her bed and turned on the TV. "This is the 10 O'clock news, and first our top international story: an outbreak of the Ebola virus has infected hundreds and killed dozens in the impoverished country of..." Kierra changed the channel, Always depressing shit out in the world... guess I won't be dreaming about it through. Kierra, not finding anything to watch, turned off the TV. Her room was quiet and still, the only noise was the ambient sounds of the city. She closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes, and sun light washed into the room. She sprung up from bed and looked at the clock. 9 AM?! Kierra quickly put on some deodorant and threw on some clothes for work before stumbling out the door.
Work came and went, and besides getting a small lecture from her boss she had a good day. She had a good cup of coffee, made her sales, chatted with her coworkers, and did not feel drowsy for the entire day. It was Tuesday, which meant 2 for 1 Burger Night at her favorite pub. She arrived before the crowd of non-regulars arrived and sat down at the bar. "Hey Paul, how are ya? I'll have a Guinness and put me down for the bacon cheddar cheese burger with the cheese fries...", she pinched the side of her tummy, "ok, no cheese on the fries. Just a side of fries."
A man sitting next to her cleared his throat, "Whoa, I've never seen a woman order a Guinness before. Kudos to you."
Kierra sighed and turned towards him, "Don't get out much, do ya?" Kierra looked him up and down, he was wearing a black fedora with a black shirt and gray jeans. Kierra sighed and rolled her eyes, "I guess you don't."
The man smiled, "Hey now, I guess I deserved a little bit of that. What's wrong with my look?"
"All I see is that God damn ugly hat, you going to be wearing a trench coat next?" Kierra responded playfully.
The man took off his hat revealing his dark hair, green eyes, and perfectly stubble beard. "There, is that better?"
Kierra smiled, "A lot bit better", Kierra put his hand on his leg "you should really keep that damned hat off." She took her hand off his leg and grabbed her beer. "And also, no trench coat. Too much of that around here lately." She takes a sip from, leaving behind a foam mustache. "I mean, have you seen them? They are all just standing around Mara courtyard doing who knows what."
The man laughed, "Yes, actually I have." He takes a napkin and holds it in front of Kierra. "May I?" Kierra nods and the man gently wipes away her foam mustache. "A man dressed kind of like a priest came up to me, telling me we have all been asleep for too long and we must be awakened. Seemed very weird to me."
Kierra giggled, "Well, not me. I haven't been getting enough. I'm on sleeping pills now though, and they seem to be helping a bit."
The man smirked and grabbed hold of her beer and slides it towards himself, "Well now, you shouldn't be drinking this then. Y'don't need to be mixing alcohol and medicine."
Kierra grabbed his wrist and smiled, "Mm, don't come between me and my alcohol, please..." she slid the drink back towards her, "-- what is your name by the way, I'm Kierra."
The man put his other hand on top of hers while it's still grasped on his wrist. "Mine's Robert, Robert Williams. Nice to meet you, and that drink is on me."
Kierra smiled, "Well, you do have my attention now Rob."
------------------------
A couple hours pass, and clean dishes and glasses sit in front of Robert and Kierra. Robert patted his stomach, "Well then, did you inject me with some Sodium Pentothal when you grabbed my wrist earlier? I don't think I've told my whole back story to a stranger like that."
Kierra smiled, leaning in closer towards Robert. "Well, I don't think we're strangers anymore Robbywobby, hic, oh excuse me."
Robert laughed, "You going to need some help getting home?"
Kierra smirked, "No, no-- if I was still down in the dumps I'd take you up on that offer. But... I'll just give you my number instead."
Robert raised his eyebrows, "Offer? What... oh no, that's not what I meant at all!"
Kierra wrote her number down on a napkin and put it into his hat on the counter. "Oh no, it isn't? That's too bad." She smiled, "But then again, you did get some action just last night from that girl with green hair you met at Club Succubus. I'm sure that was wild."
Robert coughed, "It was... something." Robert took the note out of his hat and slipped it into his wallet. "So, time to go home?"
Kierra looked at the clock. "Yeah, I need to take my medicine and get some sleep before work." She leans towards him and whispers into his ear, her body barely pressing against him "And please, please, get rid of the hat." She pulls away and giggles playfully.
"No promises, it's part of who I am." Robert put back on his fedora and stood up.
Kierra gagged, "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick, excuse me." She slapped several a few twenties down on the table, and made fake vomiting noises as she left the room.
Robert sighed and looked at the bartender, "Well, she's a character isn't she?" The bartender shrugged and laughed as he turned around to make more drinks.
-------------------------------------------
Kierra sat relaxed in her sister's car as her sister drove her to a therapy appointment.
"Well it's been a week! So, you sure there are no side effects?" Sharon asked her sister as she turned the steering wheel.
"Besides me being in a better mood and actually getting some sleep? No, none at all." Kierra twirled the empty pill bottle between her fingers as she responded.
"That's great! I'm really happy this is working for you, we were worried about you." Sharon turned the dial on the radio to change the station.
"It really is, I'm going to ask the doctor for more once I get up there. You sure you don't mind waiting for me? The appointment lasts an hour." Kierra inquired to her sister.
"Nah, gives me some time to get my shoppin' in." She turned in at the parking lot. "Ok, we're here!"
Kierra turned and looked towards the building. "That's weird, looks like there's some kind of protest. I wonder what's going on." Kierra opened the door and stepped out onto the side walk.
Sharon stepped out of the car as well, "Guess I'll park here and walk to the store, let me walk you to the door, that crowd looks pretty shifty."
Kierra smiled, "Sure thing sis."
The two sisters walked towards the building and neared the protest. A man dressed like a priest in a strange robe stood at the top of the stair case, "...has lied to you! This world is a fabrication! We know you're listening, we know you're out there! This will continue until you return The One and Trinity's bodies to us!"
Kierra whispered to her sister, "Is he talking about Jesus and the Holy Trinity? This guy's nuts." Sharon nodded quickly in response and stood closer to her big sister. Kierra heard a strange screeching sound and did a double take as she saw a man in a black suit and glasses standing where a woman in the crowd once stood. He pulled out a gun and fired at the man protesting. Kierra grabbed her sister and ducked down with her, but she saw something impossible: the man seemed to dodge most of the bullets... most. The man was flung back after being hit in the shoulder.
"E pluribus unum, e pluribus Neo!" the wounded man shouted as he hit a device in his hand. A bright green flash temporarily blinded Kierra and as her vision cleared she saw the world begin to crumble around her. The walls of the building turned into a wall of flowing symbols and numbers, and the ground gave way to a black void. People in the crowd began to convulse as their bodies began to turn into the green code as well, some of them began to sink into the black void. The Agent walked past them undeterred and shot the wounded man in the head. He looked out into the crowd and began to convulse as well, but his body disappeared and the body of the woman Kierra saw previously stood in his place.
"What the fuck, what the fuck, Sharon..." Sharon laid on the ground convulsing, her body being pulled into the black void. The void began to swarm her body and enter her mouth as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. "Sharon!" Kierra screamed as she grabbed her sister by the shoulders and attempted to pull her back in. Her body began to flicker between human and the strange code. Kierra fell backwards startled, and the black void began to take her as well. She saw flashes again of her nightmare, the same code. A man in a similar priest outfit fighting... fighting in the sky against a man in a suit. Her vision switched back to her current situation, and her sister lied dead on the ground next to her. Kierra screamed as the void swarmed up her body and overtook her.
Then there was blackness. A feeling of warmth. Then all she could see was red.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2: A Tough Pill to Swallow (coming soon)]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2714 Tue, 29 Dec 2020 19:22:44 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2714
* The Oligarchs has become a pain in the ass to everyone involved, especially to the machines. However The Machines cannot take direct actions against The Oligarchs, so they elicit the help of Operatives from all organizations.

* Total war is waged on The Oligarchs in The Real and The Merovingian lends The General's Sentinel Army and Stalingrad's missiles to aid in getting rid of The Oligarchs.

* However, a small number of Oligarch's hovercrafts do escape the destruction of the city, allowing The Oligarch to pop up from time to time, only to be squashed and killed.

*After The Oligarchs are taken care of, The Machines once again turn their attention back to their war with New Zion. The Man Machine war resumes.

*After the events, The Machines now owe a debt to The Merovingian, which he holds over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. He doesn't call in this chip at the beginning, he holds it for when he really needs it.

*Cryptos, the leader of the Cypherites is killed by Veil via Killcode. (This may actually end up being a Live Event) Veil ends up being the sole leader of The Cypherites.

*The Kid, being a veteran of The Oligarch war as well as The Machine/New Zion war has become a hard-bitten individual, no longer the naïve, hopeful young boy he once was in the early days of MxO or The Matrix Trilogy.

* Niobe takes over Commander Lock's position in Zion and becomes Commander Niobe of New Zion.

* MxO EMU picks up 10 years after SOE's MxO.

Like I said, post your comments, suggestions and critique!]]>
* The Oligarchs has become a pain in the ass to everyone involved, especially to the machines. However The Machines cannot take direct actions against The Oligarchs, so they elicit the help of Operatives from all organizations.

* Total war is waged on The Oligarchs in The Real and The Merovingian lends The General's Sentinel Army and Stalingrad's missiles to aid in getting rid of The Oligarchs.

* However, a small number of Oligarch's hovercrafts do escape the destruction of the city, allowing The Oligarch to pop up from time to time, only to be squashed and killed.

*After The Oligarchs are taken care of, The Machines once again turn their attention back to their war with New Zion. The Man Machine war resumes.

*After the events, The Machines now owe a debt to The Merovingian, which he holds over their heads like the Sword of Damocles. He doesn't call in this chip at the beginning, he holds it for when he really needs it.

*Cryptos, the leader of the Cypherites is killed by Veil via Killcode. (This may actually end up being a Live Event) Veil ends up being the sole leader of The Cypherites.

*The Kid, being a veteran of The Oligarch war as well as The Machine/New Zion war has become a hard-bitten individual, no longer the naïve, hopeful young boy he once was in the early days of MxO or The Matrix Trilogy.

* Niobe takes over Commander Lock's position in Zion and becomes Commander Niobe of New Zion.

* MxO EMU picks up 10 years after SOE's MxO.

Like I said, post your comments, suggestions and critique!]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2713 Sun, 27 Dec 2020 21:29:58 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2713

The snow in The Matrix is beautiful, serene. I always look forward to Christmas time in The Matrix because MegaCity would usually get a decent amount of snow during the winter months. I remember back when I was a kid, me and the other kids in the Eshean Projects would have snowball fights and build giant snow forts and wage full on snow wars.

I sometimes miss the ignorance of childhood, no bills, no boss, not being awaken to the reality of The Matrix. It was at least 10 years ago when I was forced out of my pod by Morpheus's code bombing of The Matrix. I was riding home on the public bus when it went past one of his bomb that went off. I remember seeing everything around me disintegrate into code, and then...nothing. I woke up in a Zion hovercraft. Apparently a lot of bluepills were flushed out during Morpheus's terrorism of MegaCity, not even given a choice.

In the words of Cypher, I would've taken the blue pill. I've seen the sales pitch that Zionist and EPNs use on potential redpills, they always sound like drug dealers trying to find new clients. "Here, take this pill, it'll open your eyes up to the true nature of reality." Might as well be offering them shrooms instead of the red pill with that sales pitch.

I bid my time in Zion, of course the hate and betrayal I felt festered until I couldn't stand it anymore. I did what I had to do to escape, and I did, I found a group of people who were also upset about being awakened. Soon I was a part of The Cypherites. We all had our own intermediate goals, but the common goal seem to be reinsertion. At least, that was my end goal.

However, a lot has happened between then and now, and now, I'm tasked with the job of finding our two leaders, Veil and Cryptos. We've lost contact with them awhile back and had no success in finding their hovercraft signal in The Real.

After I jacked into The Matrix near my old neighborhood, I started walking, looking for a payphone that I could use. Keeping my wits around me and making notes on my surroundings. It was war inside and outside The Matrix and the Cypherites relationship with The Machines was tenuous at best. Any of these poor bluepills could turn into an agent and I would only be given a split second to react before their Desert Eagle made a hole in my forehead.

The ground crunched beneath my sneakers as I made my way, I reached into my pocket from time to time just to feel the four quarters that were jingling around. I pull my coat tighter around my body as a gust of wind blew through the tall buildings. 'It's not real Sean, so why are you acting like it is' 'Maybe I'd like to think it's real, maybe it's real enough.'

I shook my head and found a payphone outside of a liquor store. Checking around me once again, making sure there was no one around, I inserted the quarters and dialed the number to Novalis II, dial tone. No answering machine, no operative on the other side, just a dead line. I hung up the phone and checked the return slot, no return on my investment of two quarters. I'm sure MegaCity Bell appreciates my contribution to their bottom line.

As I started walking back to the hardline, I whipped out my cellphone and dialed the operator to my ship.

"Operator."
"The line to Novalis II is dead, no answering machine, no real live voice."
"Damn, I was afraid of that."
"I'm guessing we'll have a meeting in the mess hall of the hovercraft to decide what to do next, right?"
"Yep, you know how it goes."
"Right, I'll see you in a bit."
"Take your time Meta, I'm not showing any machine activity in your area, just bluepills as far as the eyes can see."
"Thank you."]]>

The snow in The Matrix is beautiful, serene. I always look forward to Christmas time in The Matrix because MegaCity would usually get a decent amount of snow during the winter months. I remember back when I was a kid, me and the other kids in the Eshean Projects would have snowball fights and build giant snow forts and wage full on snow wars.

I sometimes miss the ignorance of childhood, no bills, no boss, not being awaken to the reality of The Matrix. It was at least 10 years ago when I was forced out of my pod by Morpheus's code bombing of The Matrix. I was riding home on the public bus when it went past one of his bomb that went off. I remember seeing everything around me disintegrate into code, and then...nothing. I woke up in a Zion hovercraft. Apparently a lot of bluepills were flushed out during Morpheus's terrorism of MegaCity, not even given a choice.

In the words of Cypher, I would've taken the blue pill. I've seen the sales pitch that Zionist and EPNs use on potential redpills, they always sound like drug dealers trying to find new clients. "Here, take this pill, it'll open your eyes up to the true nature of reality." Might as well be offering them shrooms instead of the red pill with that sales pitch.

I bid my time in Zion, of course the hate and betrayal I felt festered until I couldn't stand it anymore. I did what I had to do to escape, and I did, I found a group of people who were also upset about being awakened. Soon I was a part of The Cypherites. We all had our own intermediate goals, but the common goal seem to be reinsertion. At least, that was my end goal.

However, a lot has happened between then and now, and now, I'm tasked with the job of finding our two leaders, Veil and Cryptos. We've lost contact with them awhile back and had no success in finding their hovercraft signal in The Real.

After I jacked into The Matrix near my old neighborhood, I started walking, looking for a payphone that I could use. Keeping my wits around me and making notes on my surroundings. It was war inside and outside The Matrix and the Cypherites relationship with The Machines was tenuous at best. Any of these poor bluepills could turn into an agent and I would only be given a split second to react before their Desert Eagle made a hole in my forehead.

The ground crunched beneath my sneakers as I made my way, I reached into my pocket from time to time just to feel the four quarters that were jingling around. I pull my coat tighter around my body as a gust of wind blew through the tall buildings. 'It's not real Sean, so why are you acting like it is' 'Maybe I'd like to think it's real, maybe it's real enough.'

I shook my head and found a payphone outside of a liquor store. Checking around me once again, making sure there was no one around, I inserted the quarters and dialed the number to Novalis II, dial tone. No answering machine, no operative on the other side, just a dead line. I hung up the phone and checked the return slot, no return on my investment of two quarters. I'm sure MegaCity Bell appreciates my contribution to their bottom line.

As I started walking back to the hardline, I whipped out my cellphone and dialed the operator to my ship.

"Operator."
"The line to Novalis II is dead, no answering machine, no real live voice."
"Damn, I was afraid of that."
"I'm guessing we'll have a meeting in the mess hall of the hovercraft to decide what to do next, right?"
"Yep, you know how it goes."
"Right, I'll see you in a bit."
"Take your time Meta, I'm not showing any machine activity in your area, just bluepills as far as the eyes can see."
"Thank you."]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2661 Wed, 10 Jun 2020 22:14:44 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2661
I was never particularly close with my peers, although I was closest to Enmascarado only to the extent he became my handler. Decent man, if fanatical, he and his partner both. I wonder if they would still be around today were it not for my call to Niobe. It rings true in my fragmented heart that they both lacked vision. Its a strange mixture of feelings, satisfaction and regret, but as ever I did what I was told. Ever the pawn, me.

When I crossed the board on my own, I didn't have too long to relish my ascension. Only a few spare moments for myself and my thoughts, always something or someone or someones demanding my attention. And the violence, ever following the crimson soldiers like fetid stench. Billowing from them, infecting the very air my charges breathed. Biological or digital. I preached another way, a disruption of the sequence.

Perhaps this is why more flocked to Veil and hers. A schism was bound to take place, I suppose. It seemed every day more drew the Cloth, not knowing what the Mask represented, drawn instead by the thrill of confrontation. The allure. These were not times for words, I was told.

Unburdened, I could return to tend to my garden. What they never quite grasped was our duty was preservation. Of hearts and engine, mind and code. I would thank those Three if they had the ears to listen. Fetters severed, I watch and I wonder and I learn.

There's always something new to learn. I find it a curse.]]>
I was never particularly close with my peers, although I was closest to Enmascarado only to the extent he became my handler. Decent man, if fanatical, he and his partner both. I wonder if they would still be around today were it not for my call to Niobe. It rings true in my fragmented heart that they both lacked vision. Its a strange mixture of feelings, satisfaction and regret, but as ever I did what I was told. Ever the pawn, me.

When I crossed the board on my own, I didn't have too long to relish my ascension. Only a few spare moments for myself and my thoughts, always something or someone or someones demanding my attention. And the violence, ever following the crimson soldiers like fetid stench. Billowing from them, infecting the very air my charges breathed. Biological or digital. I preached another way, a disruption of the sequence.

Perhaps this is why more flocked to Veil and hers. A schism was bound to take place, I suppose. It seemed every day more drew the Cloth, not knowing what the Mask represented, drawn instead by the thrill of confrontation. The allure. These were not times for words, I was told.

Unburdened, I could return to tend to my garden. What they never quite grasped was our duty was preservation. Of hearts and engine, mind and code. I would thank those Three if they had the ears to listen. Fetters severed, I watch and I wonder and I learn.

There's always something new to learn. I find it a curse.]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2640 Mon, 27 Apr 2020 12:12:17 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2640
DATA COLLECTION, TEST SUBJECT 01

This is Michael reporting, I had authorized the growth and formation of a sleeper agent, unlike the previous ones agents this isn't a program but a human, a real flesh and blood human, the program intels a human living out their lives til they're of age to be released to the real world but unknowingly we and its parents who are agents and programs have been conditioning them to follow orders once a trigger world is said, depending on the main targets of course, this has been an idea in the making for 20 years and one test subject is ready. More shall be made once this trail has successfully proven itself worthy

SUBJECT INFORMATION:

GENDER BIOLOGICAL: MALE
GENDER IDENTITY: MALE
AGE: 21
LOCATION: NEW YORK CITY POWERPLANT
TARGET: AID IN RECAPTURING ESCAPED REDPILLS
TRIGGER WORD: WOULD YOU KINDLY

WAKING SUBJECT UP AND SENDING SIGNAL TO NEARBY SHIPS AT AT EXTRACTION POINT IN 30 MINUTES

END OF LOG]]>
DATA COLLECTION, TEST SUBJECT 01

This is Michael reporting, I had authorized the growth and formation of a sleeper agent, unlike the previous ones agents this isn't a program but a human, a real flesh and blood human, the program intels a human living out their lives til they're of age to be released to the real world but unknowingly we and its parents who are agents and programs have been conditioning them to follow orders once a trigger world is said, depending on the main targets of course, this has been an idea in the making for 20 years and one test subject is ready. More shall be made once this trail has successfully proven itself worthy

SUBJECT INFORMATION:

GENDER BIOLOGICAL: MALE
GENDER IDENTITY: MALE
AGE: 21
LOCATION: NEW YORK CITY POWERPLANT
TARGET: AID IN RECAPTURING ESCAPED REDPILLS
TRIGGER WORD: WOULD YOU KINDLY

WAKING SUBJECT UP AND SENDING SIGNAL TO NEARBY SHIPS AT AT EXTRACTION POINT IN 30 MINUTES

END OF LOG]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2639 Sat, 25 Apr 2020 02:26:08 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2639


WARNING: Attempting to access classified Source code or material will result in various penalties, such as charges for cybercriminal activity. Please log out IMMEDIATELY and wait for processing.
.
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LOGGED IN AS: PERSONNEL_PACE
[OVERRIDE_
[ACCESS GRANTED_]
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.

JANUARY 9TH, [REDACTED], 10 AM EST_

I have been recently tasked with the monitoring of potentials among the citizens of Park East, as the Truce has requested. We must sustain the peace with the Zion operatives for the greater good, and thus, all Agents, including me, are required for this task.
I will start going through the files first, to avoid any false positives and to save time.


JANUARY 10TH, [REDACTED], 5 PM EST_

It has been two years and three months, to be precise, and yet I have never experienced what both humans and exile programs call “downtime”. I have been running ever since I was compiled, and I do not know what this action entails.
I have also gone through approximately 33,564 files, and I was able to pinpoint certain individuals who might experience - or might have been experiencing, in better words - a detachment from the simulation. I will need to watch over them to ensure the stability of the simulation.]]>


WARNING: Attempting to access classified Source code or material will result in various penalties, such as charges for cybercriminal activity. Please log out IMMEDIATELY and wait for processing.
.
.
.
LOGGED IN AS: PERSONNEL_PACE
[OVERRIDE_
[ACCESS GRANTED_]
.
.
.

JANUARY 9TH, [REDACTED], 10 AM EST_

I have been recently tasked with the monitoring of potentials among the citizens of Park East, as the Truce has requested. We must sustain the peace with the Zion operatives for the greater good, and thus, all Agents, including me, are required for this task.
I will start going through the files first, to avoid any false positives and to save time.


JANUARY 10TH, [REDACTED], 5 PM EST_

It has been two years and three months, to be precise, and yet I have never experienced what both humans and exile programs call “downtime”. I have been running ever since I was compiled, and I do not know what this action entails.
I have also gone through approximately 33,564 files, and I was able to pinpoint certain individuals who might experience - or might have been experiencing, in better words - a detachment from the simulation. I will need to watch over them to ensure the stability of the simulation.]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2638 Sat, 25 Apr 2020 01:34:19 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2638
|||Classification: [Hyuzu Operation]|||

ATTN Hovercraft Ark Crew.

Please confirm drone visual as correct rendezvous position.



Awaiting confirmation...

End Line.

-Tx3QA [Likwid Hyuzu]]]>
|||Classification: [Hyuzu Operation]|||

ATTN Hovercraft Ark Crew.

Please confirm drone visual as correct rendezvous position.



Awaiting confirmation...

End Line.

-Tx3QA [Likwid Hyuzu]]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2623 Mon, 06 Apr 2020 17:54:05 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2623 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2622 Thu, 02 Apr 2020 08:18:58 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2622 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2514 Mon, 10 Jun 2019 22:32:49 +0200 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2514 All operatives are trapped!!!




part 01 - Digital Tumbleweeds

Strolling about my usual path between the Mara and Tabor districts nothing seemed unusual. The blues were going about their business and the Exiles, E. Pluribus Neo, Zion and some yet unidentified Machine extremists seem to have no activity in the area. Usually suspicious, I have found myself on this day quite relaxed and off guard. The number of said activities, and need I say "terrorist" acts have gone down quite further than expected compared to previous cycles.

"What was it?" I ask myself , as I progress through my pre-determined patrol of this awesome creation i've come to rely on for its...….persistence. "What the fuck is going on?"I exclaim, as I have been used to trying out new loads on the punks of Mega City. I was bored, unusually lonely, and fucking trigger happy!

As I walk past a very well known Hardline escape route usually "manned" by a loyal machinist group known as the Tetragrammaton I suddenly felt what can only be described as my first real , if there is such a thing as "real" anymore, "chill" in the program. "Something is wrong!." I shrieked! There were no guardians, not one agent, not a single awakened or the lesser. There is a slight breeze, and a cold feeling, like there is someone or something unknown to this place lurking. For the very first time since my substantiation, I felt alone.

Like a Cowboy from the 1800's I creep. Shoulders up, arms back and hands over my pistols...ready for a fight. Our training, although quickly uploaded and executed cannot stop my mind from thinking back to the television shows my grandfather adored. "Was this MY moment?", I asked myself. "Do I face my ultimate foe right here, right now?", I kept questioning out loud.

"Next thing you know Owen, you'll be talking to myself.". I say, as I burst out with laughter, my hands still hovering over my sidearms, eyes all the while still patrolling the desolate alleyways and empty streets I observe along my path.

This is odd indeed.



To be continued...……….]]> All operatives are trapped!!!




part 01 - Digital Tumbleweeds

Strolling about my usual path between the Mara and Tabor districts nothing seemed unusual. The blues were going about their business and the Exiles, E. Pluribus Neo, Zion and some yet unidentified Machine extremists seem to have no activity in the area. Usually suspicious, I have found myself on this day quite relaxed and off guard. The number of said activities, and need I say "terrorist" acts have gone down quite further than expected compared to previous cycles.

"What was it?" I ask myself , as I progress through my pre-determined patrol of this awesome creation i've come to rely on for its...….persistence. "What the fuck is going on?"I exclaim, as I have been used to trying out new loads on the punks of Mega City. I was bored, unusually lonely, and fucking trigger happy!

As I walk past a very well known Hardline escape route usually "manned" by a loyal machinist group known as the Tetragrammaton I suddenly felt what can only be described as my first real , if there is such a thing as "real" anymore, "chill" in the program. "Something is wrong!." I shrieked! There were no guardians, not one agent, not a single awakened or the lesser. There is a slight breeze, and a cold feeling, like there is someone or something unknown to this place lurking. For the very first time since my substantiation, I felt alone.

Like a Cowboy from the 1800's I creep. Shoulders up, arms back and hands over my pistols...ready for a fight. Our training, although quickly uploaded and executed cannot stop my mind from thinking back to the television shows my grandfather adored. "Was this MY moment?", I asked myself. "Do I face my ultimate foe right here, right now?", I kept questioning out loud.

"Next thing you know Owen, you'll be talking to myself.". I say, as I burst out with laughter, my hands still hovering over my sidearms, eyes all the while still patrolling the desolate alleyways and empty streets I observe along my path.

This is odd indeed.



To be continued...……….]]> //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2484 Fri, 08 Mar 2019 09:04:37 +0100 //mxoemu.info/forum/showthread.php?tid=2484

We understand there may be some confusion regarding our motivations and interests.
We are not strangers to the Matrix. Some of us have lived your lives. We understand the dangers and perils of the Matrix.

We have realized that while we are all leaves on separate branches, we are still part of the same tree. Those of us on this ship have left our pasts behind us and moved on to the future. We bear no animosity to the machines who carried us into the world, nor the people who brought us from that world to the next. We understand why the fight started and why it will continue, but we do not want it any longer. We are awakened anew.

There is a saying: "Ignorance makes a man, or woman, a slave." We seek to dispel this ignorance from our minds and our hearts. We wish to learn where you have come from, where you are, and where you are going. We wish to learn why you are here doing what you do. We wish to understand you, and through you, better understand ourselves.

Awakening was only the first step toward enlightenment.
~





At risk of becoming labeled as just another group of shady lowlifes in the Matrix (no offense to you fine ladies and gentlemen), I (Diced) have decided to take drastic action and establish a clearly defined portrait of our merry band of adventurers. Since some bold stalker took such great efforts to photograph our fine crew of scallywags, I figured why bother defining my own portrait, theirs shouldn't go to waste.
I just wish they had told me in advance... I really would have given them something to photograph.



Our Objective:
Well, Kisoku and Caigne wrote such a lovely piece for the top of the page that I don't think much more explanation is necessary.
Of course, then I stop to think about the intellects of my newly acquired Matrix pals and I reconsider.
What's enlightenment? "The act or means of enlightening; The state of being enlightened." Some help dictionaries are. Anyways, *I* see enlightenment as a sort of mental/spiritual clarity. A real whammy. Like sitting at the table of life, drink in hand, and knowing exactly what cards you've got, and everybody else's got, and knowing exactly how to play your hand.
I used to roll with Zion. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. I just didn't sign on for any war with killer robots. I understood the fighting for survival thing, I just didn't want to be doing that all day every day until the day I kick the bucket. So I asked myself, what more is there to life? Virtual reality sucks, reality sucks, well... maybe third time's the charm.
Who says I can't free my mind again?

Our Other Objective:

Personally, I'd like to learn a little more about the scenic attractions of sector 915-4 of the Real. I imagine a snowy nuclear winter mountain resort, complete with personal gym, private spa, tennis courts, and heated indoor pool. If you're interested in learning less about spiritual fulfillment and more about physical rewards, and are excited about thermal image frags and strange map file uploads from mysterious locations in the Real to Zion chatbots, Click Here!
Seriously, if you're interested in those thermal image frags, I'd make sure to read that section. Especially the part I've marked as "The Challenge".

Recent News

Catch you on the flipside.
-Diced-

https://web.archive.org/web/200806300209...om/sk397m/]]>

We understand there may be some confusion regarding our motivations and interests.
We are not strangers to the Matrix. Some of us have lived your lives. We understand the dangers and perils of the Matrix.

We have realized that while we are all leaves on separate branches, we are still part of the same tree. Those of us on this ship have left our pasts behind us and moved on to the future. We bear no animosity to the machines who carried us into the world, nor the people who brought us from that world to the next. We understand why the fight started and why it will continue, but we do not want it any longer. We are awakened anew.

There is a saying: "Ignorance makes a man, or woman, a slave." We seek to dispel this ignorance from our minds and our hearts. We wish to learn where you have come from, where you are, and where you are going. We wish to learn why you are here doing what you do. We wish to understand you, and through you, better understand ourselves.

Awakening was only the first step toward enlightenment.
~





At risk of becoming labeled as just another group of shady lowlifes in the Matrix (no offense to you fine ladies and gentlemen), I (Diced) have decided to take drastic action and establish a clearly defined portrait of our merry band of adventurers. Since some bold stalker took such great efforts to photograph our fine crew of scallywags, I figured why bother defining my own portrait, theirs shouldn't go to waste.
I just wish they had told me in advance... I really would have given them something to photograph.



Our Objective:
Well, Kisoku and Caigne wrote such a lovely piece for the top of the page that I don't think much more explanation is necessary.
Of course, then I stop to think about the intellects of my newly acquired Matrix pals and I reconsider.
What's enlightenment? "The act or means of enlightening; The state of being enlightened." Some help dictionaries are. Anyways, *I* see enlightenment as a sort of mental/spiritual clarity. A real whammy. Like sitting at the table of life, drink in hand, and knowing exactly what cards you've got, and everybody else's got, and knowing exactly how to play your hand.
I used to roll with Zion. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. I just didn't sign on for any war with killer robots. I understood the fighting for survival thing, I just didn't want to be doing that all day every day until the day I kick the bucket. So I asked myself, what more is there to life? Virtual reality sucks, reality sucks, well... maybe third time's the charm.
Who says I can't free my mind again?

Our Other Objective:

Personally, I'd like to learn a little more about the scenic attractions of sector 915-4 of the Real. I imagine a snowy nuclear winter mountain resort, complete with personal gym, private spa, tennis courts, and heated indoor pool. If you're interested in learning less about spiritual fulfillment and more about physical rewards, and are excited about thermal image frags and strange map file uploads from mysterious locations in the Real to Zion chatbots, Click Here!
Seriously, if you're interested in those thermal image frags, I'd make sure to read that section. Especially the part I've marked as "The Challenge".

Recent News

Catch you on the flipside.
-Diced-

https://web.archive.org/web/200806300209...om/sk397m/]]>