Watch the Footage

Rick Healey wrote:Really, the important thing to understand is the consensual nature of reality, and that it's essentially a construct shared but not actually duplicated amongst those who observe it.

Thus, while you may observe an apple, this does not mean there truly is one. In fact, given the fact that I am unlikely to have this apple, and the fact that the apple will essentially cease to exist once it is eaten, I must conclude that there is no apple, and that a proper analysis of the situation is that nobody can truly have this apple.

With this knowledge, I can be at peace and merely enjoy the mere idea of the apple, which is delicious.

It will also put you into a coma. No, I won't stop saying that.

*appears*

*gives Mimsy what appears to be a mix of shotgun, bed and printer*

Clowns! Plasma! Faces!

Use this to beat Endless!

*disappears*

I'm currently an apple. I... don't see how that helps. I'm also Qara, at the moment.

AMimsyBorogove wrote:I'm currently an apple. I... don't see how that helps. I'm also Qara, at the moment.

(OOC: Touching the bed make you 'wake up'. It also helps to destroy cuils, but absobing them and turning them into sheets of paper with stuff onto them.)

I see a bed. I want to sleep, but the time has not yet come.

The bed is unmade. I pull aside the sheets to reveal a family of tortoises armed with shotguns. They are disguised as apples.

A printer prints off these words, then bursts into flames. In its ashes sits an apple.

The apple is Mimsy and Mimsy is me. I am still underground.

Qara-Xuan Zenith wrote:I see a bed. I want to sleep, but the time has not yet come.

The bed is unmade. I pull aside the sheets to reveal a family of tortoises armed with shotguns. They are disguised as apples.

A printer prints off these words, then bursts into flames. In its ashes sits an apple.

The apple is Mimsy and Mimsy is me. I am still underground.

The ground moves upwards. Upwards moves sideways. The understanding of space shifts as time passes.

One second takes millenia. One millenia takes a minute. A minute takes a week. A week takes the Apple from Qara.

Qara is taken by one week. Mimsy is taken by one week. One week takes one second to pick up the Apple.

After one minute, he carries Mimsy. After one millenia he manages to carry Qara, because she is heavy.

She is heavy because they are in Jupiter. Jupiter is heavy because he is on the Sun. As the Sun does not burn nor melt anything, it is noted that the Sun can't affect anything. Jupiter freezes, and so do Qara, Mimsy, the Apple and one week.

Since the Sun can't affect anything, it's like he isn't there. Since the Sun isn't there, it musn't exist. If the Sun doesn't exist it can't think. The Sun is not. There never is a Sun. There never was in the future nor there will be in the past.

There is no time. There is only space. There is no week, because week is time. The Apple, Mimsy and Qara aren't anywhere.

The underground moved, and so did the upwards. Space moved itself away. Space moved itself away from existence.

A voice echoes. But the echoes do not sound. There is nothing. There is not even nothing. There is only Qara, Mimsy and the Apple. There is only emptyness. The Apple, Mimsy and Qara feels heavy. They feel as heavy as everything.

They are everything. They are the heaviest. They start to fall. They are Qara, Mimsy and the Apple. The fall. The fall wakes them up in autumn. They are in a king-size bed in an hotel in the Caribbean. The one window in their room shows them the beach. A light breeze flows from it. A noise echoes from the depts. They look at it, and notice it is simply the telephone. It's the room service. They warn them the breakfast is served. Standing in the telephone's side, there is the Apple. As red as the bedsheet there is in their bed, as red as the carpet in the floor and as red as the curtains of the window. There is blood everywhere. A man lies on the floor. His soul rests in the Afterlife. He was a mad man. He was a mad scientist. His credentials in his labcoat are destroyed, one can't tell whom he once was. His face was destroyed. But he had his vengeance. He fused Qara and Mimsy together, as the old humans from Greek Mythology. He wanted to overthrow the Gods. Step one was taken. The war is on.

It has already been established, however, that the apple is immune to cuils. Therefore, the above was in fact the LSD-induced dream of an Echidna. Therefore, Victin is a druggie Echidna, and the apple is still me, and I am still Qara, and Qara is still the apple. There is still the tree. We are still in the underground. Can you feel my flames? My heart is that of a sun. You can take my flames thrice, I'll still burn my image into your eyes. I'll be born again, shrouded in the blazing night sky.

*burninates druggie-Echidna!Victin.*

I burn. Flames cover my entire body, my weapons, my clothes, my mask, everything. But I do not feel pain. Instead I feel a comforting warmth.

I am no longer The Invisible Man. I am The Wild West Pyro, and I am ready to stop the fighting below.

As I fly down, like a torpedo, towards them, I wonder.

Why, do we fight over a merely insignificant object? And what drives us to do it? Is it Greed? Desire? Lust? Or a selfish greedy desire to have what is not ours?

Anyway, I speed towards the ground.

My Eyes open. I can see normally. But to them, my eyes are inhuman- glowing, deep fiery orange, with no pupils, flames on the top.

I hit the ground. I explode.

Everyone is knocked back by the mere force of the explosion. They are flung into space, into the Universe, into the very corners of it, which expand every nanosecond, every moment.

They shall battle in space.

AMimsyBorogove wrote:It has already been established, however, that the apple is immune to cuils. Therefore, the above was in fact the LSD-induced dream of an Echidna. Therefore, Victin is a druggie Echidna, and the apple is still me, and I am still Qara, and Qara is still the apple. There is still the tree. We are still in the underground. Can you feel my flames? My heart is that of a sun. You can take my flames thrice, I'll still burn my image into your eyes. I'll be born again, shrouded in the blazing night sky.

*burninates druggie-Echidna!Victin.*

Except it was the Apple, not the True One Apple. The True One Apple is immune to cuils, but not the Apple. The Apple doesn't even exist. It is simply a fake inexistent creation of those in fake timelines. The Apple is what those believe they have, when they actually don't. There is no Apple. There is only the True One Apple. The Apple is a fake illusion some believe they have, when in fact, they don't.

You're in a bed whose bedsheets are red and they have a turtle pattern. There is a shotgun in the floor, and blood splats everywhere. Papers about science and stuff also are everywhere. There's a strong scent in the air. A sleeping Echidna was drugged, as were you both. Your touch burned the drug, and you went to sleep. You are Qara and Mimsy. You're on fire. You are fire.

Don't forget that I still have The Apple in my layered vault. I think.

I desperately wave my cuil organ around in a futile attempt to restore normality.
No, I won't give you any Brain Bleach. You are responsible for imagining what my cuil organ looks like.

Dryunya wrote:I desperately wave my cuil organ around in a futile attempt to restore normality.
No, I won't give you any Brain Bleach. You are responsible for imagining what my cuil organ looks like.

(OOC: Since I'm trying to use cuils to nullify cuils, Dryu ends up powering my try up.)

The Apple that there was aside the telephone was actually Dryu. An apple pie made of the Apple. Was it Dryu? It was the Apple for sure.

In a bed whose sheets are made of paper, an echidna sleeps, trapped in a continuous dream of waking. It opens its eyes, only to look out on yet another dream, for all of eternity.

The echidna wakes. A tortoise, the father of six, hefts his shotgun, angered at having his ancestral home disturbed. It is a dream.

The echidna wakes. A red star appears in the sky, coming ever closer, devouring the echidna and the world. It is a dream.

A tortoise, the father of six, angered at having his ancestral home disturbed, sets fire to a sleeping echidna. The echidna stirs but does not wake.

The world is on fire. But deep below the world, in Dryu's underground fortress, I am untouched by the flames that renew my existence.

The adamantium ticks faster.

The world burns.

I do not care.

The world burns, but my flames do not hurt people at all- not leaving a single burn.

Instead, they provide warmth in cold countries and to homeless people in the cold nights.

I am proud.

I watch other countries, hot ones, put them out. I don't mind either.

I will simply sit on the moon, beside the Apollo Lunar Module and the mysterious cylindro conical projectile, still fully furnished, with a copy of From the Earth to the Moon beside it.

Using my flames, I have transported my Macbook Pro, several Blu ray dvds, a player, a Nokia 3310, my favourite books and all the stuff I need into the projectile.

Thank you Jules Verne, for writing about things that were actually real, even if it seemed improbable.

I sit on the moon, where I can somehow still breathe normally, without an oxygen tank, and watch them fight.

...Is anyone even trying to steal the Apple anymore?

I am!!!!!!!!

I have the apple now so go ahead take it.

I'm sitting in the projectile on the moon, eating some yellow rice, while watching you guys fight on the live webcam I hooked up to the PC I found.

JRPictures wrote: I have the apple now so go ahead take it.

Hey! No you don't! The apple is in my impenetrable vault!

Dryunya wrote:

JRPictures wrote: I have the apple now so go ahead take it.

Hey! No you don't! The apple is in my impenetrable vault!

OR IS IT?!?!?!?

Yes it is. I'm pretty sure it is. It was there the last time I checked, and no one has explicitly taken it from there. Qara and Mimsy wouldn't anyway, since they ARE the apple.

Dryunya wrote:Yes it is. I'm pretty sure it is. It was there the last time I checked, and no one has explicitly taken it from there. Qara and Mimsy wouldn't anyway, since they ARE the apple.

They can't be the Apple. The Apple is immune to cuils.

Why don't we stop picking at continuity that's been around for more than 10 posts now?
Sheesh.