The first soldier stepped forward, his sandboots kicking up dirt from the streets, and spoke in a monotonous, semi-robotic voice:
“Under the orders of CAPITAL we demand you drop any and all weapons, put your hands on your head and surrender yourself to our custody for the crimes of high-treason, espionage and public disturbance. Jonathan “Fiveaces” aka “Johnny the Ace” aka “The Jack of Time” aka “The Prince of Poker” aka “Johnny Four Aces and One King” aka “Don Geojohnny” aka “Jean Suite” aka “Juan ‘The Jack’ Cardlos” you are also wanted on the additional charges of extortion, loansharking, grand theft, assault and battery, armed robbery, evading police, vandalism, solicitation, rioting, being AWOL and speeding.”
Johnny grinned at the soldier and said, “Heh… you forgot murder!” The soldier’s eyes widened and in one graceful motion, Johnny flipped a gleaming card from between his fingers and struck the soldier in the throat. The soldier grasped futilely at the wound, his blood spurting out into the street.
“Three of a kind – or should I say two of a kind now – never beats an ace in the hole.”
"It's from Zybourne. It's about the Egg," she said breathlessly, having just run down the long corridor from outside.
Sylus perked at the news. "Well, let's play it and see what it says."
"It's probably a bunch of rubbish! I say we just smash the bugger!" a voice echoed from the corridor. It was Johnny. Sylus looked at him with disstain and pushed the small rounded button in the center of the hologramographer. An electronic voice beeped out: BEGIN HOLOGRAMOGRAPHY
A lifesize hologram of Dr. Zybourne appeared on the table. It soon began speaking right away:
"Children, if you have this hologram it means that I am dead and the egg is lost. I must tell you what it does. It is a time travel device. How does it work? You know how when you play pool the first move is a break? It's like that. Time is analogous to a pool game. It began with a big break, and then each ball, or era, is pocketed accordingly. Allow me to elucidate farther: You know how elephants walk tail-in-snout? Time works the same way. Each moment is connected, unless, using the device, one of the elephants, or eras, is eliminated and the preceding and following moments are then fused together in a chronosplice. You know when you put a bunch of change into Coinstar and it sorts it by pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters and silver dollars? Time works the same way. Each penny is a second, each nickel a minute, each time an hour, each quarter a day, and each silver dollar a year. What the golden egg does is an x-factor, a canadian nickel as it were, that the Coinstar machine (time) rejects. Time is then resorted. But if one were so inclined to find a way to insert this canadian nickel into the currency of time... the results could be disasterous. A brief explanation: you know those puzzle games with the little blocks that you push around and one block is empty but you have to arrange them to make a little picture? The picture is history as you know it, the blocks are eras, and the egg reconfigures the puzzle. Time works that way."
this is a much expanded version of the above:
------------------------
"Yes, yes *cough* well, that can be difficult, especially in the
company of this ruffian," Zybourne sputtered, casting a watery eye at
Scholtz, who looked away and pretended not to have heard, clutching
his hat grippingly in his red hands. "Anywhat," Zybourne continued, "I
am glad you made it, after all . . . For I have something to tell you
and time *klurr* is of the essence. And moreover, the essence... is
time!"
Sylus processed the words logically through his cranium. He cradled
Zybourne's head in his lap, "Uncle Dr. Zybourne, what is it? What is
going on with the egg? Why did you call me into this?" Sylus blushed
and lowered his voice so only Zybourne could hear him, "What can I
possibly do to help? I've never done anything."
Zybourne laughed and then coughed, as a causal result of his laughter,
his injuries being exacerbated by the physical mechanism of laughter,
which, as any intelligent Rasennian was aware, was nothing more than a
sequence of chemical and physical actions taking place inside the body
and not, as some older mystic scholars had surmised, a psychic
activity relevant to emotion. "I'll answer...your first question
first...*cough*... What 'it' is, is the very future of Rasenni, lad.
There are things at work, things that have gone into motion, like the
gearwork of a pocketwatch, that can no longer be halted. Malaprop
knows some, but not the entirety, of what is at hand and will forego
no effort to achieve his goals and cause what I believe will be a
great catastrophe, greater than anything experienced during the War of
Ascension."
Sylus' mind staggered. He had heard stories of the horrors inflicted
upon innocent people during the Ascension Wars, and even more than
that, had lived through them, though very young and only remembering
vague impressions, had lived with the consequences - the death of his
parents - ever since. What could Dr. Malaprop have in mind that could
rival the heartless carnage of that great battle? Zybourne continued,
"Yes, it is the Egg, Sylus, the Golden Egg. Not only the egg, but also
the Clock. The egg. The Clock. The Key. The Passage. These are the
ingredients, the pieces of this panoramic puzzle which you my dear
boy, you and your friends must put together before Malaprop discovers
its meaning."
Sylus didn't understand. "Uncle, I don't understand," Sylus said,
expressing his incomprehension, "What do all those things mean? What
is this all about?"
Zybourne coughed, and winced, a slight trickle of blood issued from
his cracked lips. "Time. It's about time. Listen closely, Sylus, this
is important. Maybe the most important thing anyone has ever told
anyone, ever. You know how when playing pool the first move is a
break? It's like that. Time is analogous to a pool game. It began with
a big break, and then each ball, or era, is pocketed accordingly. Some
balls backspin, others bank and crash into each other before being
sunk. Some are unimportant, others of dire consequence, and some
periods are the very 8-ball of history. But the cue, Sylus, he that
holds the cue has control of how and more importantly WHEN each ball
(era) is put into place.
"Allow me to elucidate further: You know how elephants walk
tail-in-snout? Time works the same way. Each moment is connected,
unless, using the device, one of the elephants, or eras, is eliminated
and the preceding and following moments are then fused together in a
chronosplice. Some elephants are large, some just children (though
also large, in comparison with say, a human, but that is irrelevant
and time is short), some elephants are leaders of the pack. Hence
packyderms. Do you know what happens to a herd of Elephanti when the
tail-snout line is disrupted? I assume you do, well, imagine that
disruption on the scale of the time-time contiuum.
"You know when you put your loose coinage into a Chronosteam
Gyrocurrency Sorter and it sorts it by pengies, dranickels, dimes,
doublebits and silver dollars? Time works the same way. Each pengy is
a second, each dranickel a minute, each dime an hour, each doublebit a
day, and each silver dollar a year. What the golden egg does is an
x-factor, a Bookian Spinel as it were, that the Sorter machine (time)
rejects. Time is then resorted. But if one were so inclined to find a
way to insert this Bookian Spinel into the currency of time... the
results could be disasterous.
"A brief explanation: you know those puzzle games for children with
the little holograph blocks that you push around and one block is
empty but you have to arrange them to make a little picture? The
picture is history as you know it, the blocks are eras, and the egg
reconfigures the puzzle. Time works that way..." Zybourne coughed and
sputtered more, his frail body wracked with what Sylus imagined were
death agonies.
"Uncle hold on, don't die! Please, what do you mean!"
Zybourne caught his breath and looked Sylus sternly in the eye. "Sylus
have you heard nothing of what I've said? I will try to make it
clearer but my time is short, I'm afraid, and soon I will have to...
take my leave. This is the utmost truth behind the clock, Sylus: When
the object enters the timestream, time begins to correct itself. Let
me use this example: Imagine four balls on the edge of a cliff. Say a
direct copy of the ball nearest the cliff is sent to the back of the
line of balls and takes the place of the first ball. The formerly
first ball becomes the second, the second becomes the third, and the
fourth falls off the cliff. Time works the same way."
Sylus began to turn pale, and dizzy. He quickly found a chair and used
the magazine (that he had picked up earlier and was subsequently still
clutching) to fan himself. "Well, there must be a way around this.
There must be." He said, even though he knew he was lying to himself.
All of them looked as if they had just became very ill. "Doctor, you
understand if we do this, We will fade from existance as the timeline
corrects itself." One of my colleagues said in the grimest manner I
had ever heard him speak before.
so in my fanfiction the closest thing to a university is.... prison
think about it, a university would actually make a decent prison maybe. so a uni has all kinds of shit on site on a fairly isolated grounds. so would a prison.
you'd have all the libraries there just like a prison. you have the yards and the gyms for people to mingle fairly freely, as long as they don't leave the grounds
you have tiny cells where you make the people live. just like a prison
and then you have the classes. aka rehabilitation. this is the radical part. instead of putting people in SHUs and isolation holes you send them to classes where they get to learn stuff to know why what they did was wrong and to train them to do more interesting things later so they don't want to return to crime
Apex of crude office pranks has peaked around here. Walked back into my office to find a pornhub vid of a lady getting drilled in the butt playing on my monitor.
Thanks guys.
"also it really shits my mum so it's a good way of winding her up"
