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Enkidu · (This post was last modified: 10-19-2014, 11:10 PM by Enkidu.)

Sender ID: The Indigo Lotus, or whatever ridiculous pet names we find ourselves using now.
Sender Transponder Location: Gallic Sector - Gallic Lawful Space - Gallic Core worlds - Normandie border - Maine - Sarthe Asteroid Field - UNKNOWN

*Rather uncharacteristically; the transmission lacks an accompanying video. Perhaps he's trying to tell you something?*

"I'll be uncharacteristically blunt, if only for the sake of providing a counterpoint. You do operate terrifically well with counterpoints, do you not?"

"I desire to know if I can trust you.
Actually, hold a moment, the question is infantile drivel; bear with me.
The distinction over whether I can trust you or not is entirely irrelevant from any evidence you could offer me; it is an action entirely of my prerogative if I choose to bequeath some modicum of trust or not, so we can cut all that spieling horsemerde."

"You are a square peg in a circular universe. To be somewhat more clear, the more I learn of you, the less compatible you seem to my personal vision of the universe. I find myself thus confronted with the dilemma over if I should A) bullishly refuse to believe in your existence at all, B) consider you a nemesis without substantiation as I have once struggled to do, or C), the least palatable; flex my reality to contain you within its grip."

"I lay it all before you, then, for you a marvel when it comes to tugging strings. Which option would you personally prefer?"

"Rather a compadre than a marionette, no?"

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

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Remnant · 10-20-2014, 03:29 AM,

Well, well. Of all things that I am able to recognize, the world revolving around a singular person isn't one of them. Hello there Achillie. You appear to be having difficulty to cope with my mere presence, I suppose there's nothing too unexpected there.

Trust issues is it this time? Taking a moment to put myself from your perspective, even I must admit that you're probably correct in taking things the way you are. Afterall, without the foresight of a greater picture it sure would seem that I am a mere.. hindrance. My response is quite simple. Looking at things from my point of view, you are the very same. Your questions apply very much to yourself right along with who I am to you.

What does this mean then? What is this turning into? A power struggle? A clash between two forces? You're smart. Take a step back and recognize the potential in front of you. Make your own decision on if it's the right place to put your trust in. I'll merely respond in turn, after-all, that's how things work in this world. One person is influenced by another. Something which has spread like wildfire in my own little world.

Regardless of your own actions towards or against me, there may be some indirect interference in both ends. Especially if you follow me in my path of keeping silent until things are ready to be opened up and reveal the shiny gems kept away. There are two roads which can be followed. Perhaps this is you taking your own by sending this message? Questions, questions, questions.

My question in rebuttal, do you want a piece of the pie, or will you miss out and shut the door by denying my existence, or attempting to wrangle it around in the little games you play with others. You're a smart man. I'll leave that up to you.

Enkidu · (This post was last modified: 10-20-2014, 06:17 PM by Enkidu.)

Sender ID: Achille Augustain Nadeau.
Sender Transponder Location: Gallic Sector - Gallic Lawful Space - Gallic Core worlds - Normandie border - Maine - Sarthe Asteroid Field - UNKNOWN

"Oh come now; do me the courtesy as recognising me as… minimally… just as competent a negotiator as you are yourself, Tara. Now I've struggled to drag you down a few select pathways of thought, it is unseemly to seek to pull the reverse on me. Nice move, but if both play the same piano to each other all we're going to do is end up elbowing ourselves in the eyes. This is not a duet. I believe there's a marvellous quote from Hamlet that can paraphrase the former rather succinctly, but that, again, is an irrelevancy. Along with all the other interminable irrelevancies if we will segue into if we perpetuate in scrawling out several editions of the Book of Metaphor together."

"But I'll play your game for now, Tara. Let us entertain this metaphorical pie you're offering me. You call it a pie, cheri, but I call it a carrot. And you have mistaken me for a donkey. You see ami, I am not a donkey, but I am enough of a beurocrat to see when somebody's struggling to strong-arm me. I am also very aware when you fire off communiques addressed from the Commonwealth, representative of the Commonwealth, on a CoF channel. Granted, your initiative is staggering, but it's somewhat… sudden, cheri, after such a period of dormancy. Now, sudden movement from a previously placid object tends to cause people to be a tad… jumpy. It compares you to a leopard, or a rifle bullet, if we speak in similes."

"Again, you've wilfully misunderstood me, which is hardly staggering, if a tad beneath you. I don't have issues with trusting you, because, right now, you maintain my trust. I have issues with the fact that I have, presently, zero reasons to trust you at all. That is not a trust issue, darling; that's a misinformation issue. Cloak-and-dagger is all very well until you forget where the dagger is until somebody accidentally slits their ankle open upon it. I'm certain you can find my… ah, discerning footwork over the issue reasonable? Or perhaps you truly do not believe your opening statement. Any old fool can play the hypocrisy game, you know."

"And you are right. I do play little games with others. Note the critical adjective; my advances are indeed small, but yet again, so are my failures. I move tectonically, rather than meteorically. But it's not shock and awe that will win you hearts and minds now, is it Tara? You're already aware of that. It's what you do not disclose that means more than when you open your mouth."

"Again; digression. Let us just find the chase, and cut to it, yes?"

"I never had you pegged for a brute, but I do have you pegged for a manipulator. You're extremely proficient in wheedling information out of people, conventionally via appropriating their interest. You see, I do not care exactly what flavour the pie happens to be, cheri, but rather if I happen to be free to cut (or not to cut) a slice off for myself. No one, not even a trustee, will playact my waiter in fate; you included, cheri. Besides, I have no intention of swallowing unwanted chowder - all the better for spitting with, no?"

We can work together, or we can use each other, or neither. We're just not going to cut each other's slices."

"I won't ask you confide, merely liaise. Do not misinterpret me - I am not so blind as to think you'd turn upon your adopters, just… filially concerned as to how you will nurture your inheritance. But you're a competent woman - I'm sure you'll work it out."

"Keep in calling range, and out of strangling range. I await your reply."

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

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Remnant · 10-20-2014, 06:57 PM,

I see you still rightfully do care for the group called the Commonwealth, rather than seeming to merely use it as a launchpad to prying eyes. Your.. concern was written off as one of two things. An attempt to drag me down a few notches, or to gain assurance that what you have in mind wouldn't be torn to shreds by what I have been doing. To be blatantly honest with you, I had a suspicion it was a little more of the former, I suppose I should drop some of the paranoia however since it's unneeded in the first place. I don't believe that it's very much of an issue.

In response to your cloak-and-dagger metaphor, fear not. I'm not naive enough to leave sharp things merely waiting to be put out of place by someone else stomping all over the ground. The only piece that will happen if you decided to attempt to cause some trouble, is disrupt some future work which we have planned out. This being not preferred, but is not a hindrance either. Afterall, I am not alone.

You've intrigued me enough with a closing statement which i'd like to bring back. You, someone who is known for being unable to work in tandem very effectively seems to have left the door cracked if anything. Regretfully, I am too far along to be able to drop everything and work with another on something ever so completely different, although your words do have some truth in it. You are capable. I am unable to tell what you are capable of doing just yet, although only a fool would say that you are not.

Perhaps you'd take an interest in the playful work which i've been doing lately. I believe it's time for you to meet someone.

Interesting.

Enkidu · (This post was last modified: 10-21-2014, 07:18 PM by Enkidu.)

Sender ID: Achille Augustain Nadeau.
Sender Transponder Location: Gallic Sector - Gallic Lawful Space - Gallic Core worlds - Normandie border - Maine - Sarthe Asteroid Field - UNKNOWN

"Digressions, digressions. Obfuscation, confessions."

"First remark; how the bally bethesda did you manage to modulate your voice as you just did? What the Buckminster Fullerine are you frigging doing to that console, and if you're willing to disclose, how can I imitate?"

"Secondly; If I happened to be an imbecile I would interpret the ambiguous remark regarding interference ramifications as some format of threat; which, by the way, you happen to be in a particularly perfect position to render viable, Tara, unlike the last five… seven… three… imbeciles who have persistently struggled to interfere with my existential state. But that's not your style; covered ground and all that. That's not what you want, oh no. The very fact that you have decided to reciprocate to our halls rather than your customary nomadic wayfarings implies that you require me for something; indeed, I am the regulator which drives the train. Yet a regulator, to be pulled, requires a puller, if you follow, and as of yet I lack an assertion as to if I also fill the role of the driver."

"Our old colleague finds himself in olympus; and I find myself slipping comfortably into the clothes of another man. His tie, his shoes… right down to the underclothes. True, the outfit looks a tad scuffed, a little maligned perhaps, but it'll still weather the storm. The fire still burns within the Raven's breast. Her eye still glimmers. She may be an old bird but she dreams of hatching a phoenix. And yet, I am grimly conscious that we have left nothing more indelible upon the sands of history than a watermark; for history itself is only grains - easily blown by the wind, easily moved by the victor. Yes, I see the world in black and white, winners and losers; so shoot me for it. There are far too many people who dwell only in the macabre grey of melancholia already - the great throng who do nothing for others with their lives, and worse, build no castles for themselves. We, ami, have erected a castle together, but as with all things, it's a sand castle. A mere boot will send it toppling down."

"I am known for being unable to work in tandem with people, am I? Well, at least you're not misinformed; I find myself unable to work with people often because the people with which I "work", if you insist upon labelling it that, commonly seek to work upon, rather than with, me, most probably because I am certainly doing the same with them. This is less of an expectation and more of a predicate of having an ideology - a vision. One cannot change the universe, for the subjective bad, for the objective good, if you do not lampoon some additional person power to aid your quest along. Yes, I am headstrong. Perhaps you've leeched from me, or perhaps I am merely naive. After all, I admit to my conceit - It's one of the few conceits my back can carry."

"You think of me as complacent, arrogant really. Quick to bridle, rarely calm, confrontational, chauvinistic, pork-headed. Back we head to Hamlet; the Bard's prince stages madness to reveal the truth, to remove the cloak, if you will, and illuminate the dagger. When insanity proves insufficient, he then resorts to the theatrics of professionals, but even they fail him. It is only when the mask comes off does Hamlet eventually receive the opportunity to exact his destiny, but well. What is there to do after one has spent one's destiny, but die? "

"Hamlet is fiction; even the character's truth is nothing but the playwright's illusion. And thus, my mask stays taped firmly to my face. You can appreciate that, can you not? The virtues of hiding in plain sight, with a torch shone to your face? If you cannot, Tara, then this discussion is banal and we have nothing to offer each other. But the masks stay up, and offer, we do."

"I'll entertain you since you're obviously doing your best to return the service; exactly what do you view me as capable of, Tara? Clearly not something equivalent to your own personal capacities; you utilise a legion of "we's", a plethora of "I's"; you address collectives that are neither here, nor there, in my universe. I have gathered implications, suggestions. Sparks, glimmers. Halting moments of supposition from some of the most esoteric characters I have ever had the luxury of being acquainted with, but no evidence. Certainly nothing approaching a certainty. "

"Can you now sense why I prickle? You alarm me, openly, because you mirror me. Certainly, we're insufferably different people, but we're people. We're not books. We cannot read each other, though we have persistently struggled to and not without a modicum of success; but all we garner are blurbs. Typefaces. Extraneous details designed to entertain, to distract. We learn, but the experience is phyrric, or worth nothing at all."

"Since you're a mirror, then, one must thus speak in mirror writing. There are cracks in my door, because I wish to peer through the chinks in yours. Or perhaps my door is simply defective. Either way, it has permitted the dull light of change to filter into my study. But humans are comfort creatures; like cats, we take a period to swallow change. Change is direct, scathing, cathartic. After all, curiosity killed the cat, and venturing into the light is usually synonymous with death. You invite me to plunge from a cliff without certainty if there are rocks beneath the waves. Blind luck. Human insanity."

"Curiosity killed the cat… Reason invites me yell no. But indeed, you're running an elaborate show, and although I may be too early to book tickets for the finale, there's nothing stopping me from fraternising with another one of the production crew, now, is there? Do I take a bullet, or jump the shark?"

"I elect to leap. Who, what, are you hiding behind the curtain, Oz?"

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

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(Links pending redevelopment).

Remnant · 10-22-2014, 09:36 PM,

You were close. You became closer. Then you took a step back. The waltz of back and forth movement as you spotted something in sights, went to grab it, yet hesitated and pulled back. Waiting. Watching. Only to have it metaphorically stolen from right in front of you.

Your words of History being a rope which merely can be tugged back and forth between two opposing forces. Even perhaps snapped if one were to tug too.. roughly.

Given enough time, what would an ideal situation be in a little game of tug-of-war hmm? My own answer to the question would be to occupy both sides of the rope. To the outside, an image is provided of two enemies who absolutely hate each other. The reality behind the situation? Affiliation. One bending to the whims of another, without showing it in public.

The ultimate currency. Not credits. Even information has its limits. Favors. Affiliation. Contact. Human nature can be connected and upheld even against the strongest bonds tugging at you, given the right situation and ability.

Look at you. Someone brimming with confidence. Be it true confidence, or stupidity, it doesn't matter very much. Personally however, seeing how you work with my own eyes, I have high hopes. You do not seem to fit under the category of stupidity, and are very proficient in what you decide to wish to pursue at the time. Shaping minds to withstand influence which you have the capacity to exert isn't the easiest thing. If this being the case, why not merely draw in a man himself?

The Commonwealth. A collection of various people. Very smart compared to some alternatives out in Sirius currently, each having their own range of abilities. Sirius is full of other people, Achillie. Why not leave a permanent stamp over that watermark of yours. I've spent my time working under a name, and a location in space. Yet i've been surprised by what i've discovered in my time here. Drive, ability, yet a lack of initiative.

Let us take a step back and look at the image of the grand scheme of things. If you want something done, go out and do it. Once you plant a seed in soil which sprouts and attempts to spread, it doesn't take very long to get a foothold which I have been talking about above. It takes time. It takes effort. yet it doesn't prove impossible. Something which I have witnessed personally.

Will you take part in the wildfire outbreak which is slowly beginning to smoke, ready to ignite at any second? Or will you continue down your happy life making a change on your own.

What kind of man are you?

Enkidu · 10-22-2014, 10:55 PM,

Sender ID: Achille Augustain Nadeau.
Sender Transponder Location: Gallic Sector - Gallic Lawful Space - Gallic Core worlds - Normandie border - Maine - Sarthe Asteroid Field - UNKNOWN

" You have a devious, macabre mind, ami. Unfortunately, your skull is made of glass; the more you turn your head, the more luminous their depths. It is entertaining to see the cogs grind. One could almost imagine them seizing together; perhaps, one day, they will stop. I wait anew."

"Did I not confide that it is not what you say which reveals a person's intentions, but what they do not say? Perhaps the lesson is wasted upon you; after all. Or perhaps you need the lesson not; and all the telling you regal me with is just an element of your hex. Whilst the second is most certainly true, the first assumption may prove the most mutually productive. I will run with the former, for now."

"Let us pretend (for, ever since we began this dialogue, pretence has been thicker and more miasmic that a fart in a flight suit), that I entertain you, and decided to traipse up the yellow brick road and out of Kansas, as you (clearly) have me pegged for a Dorothy. Consider the following:"

"Only a tactical imbecile answers every opening presented to them with a magnificent cavalry avalanche."

"The shopaholic who invests in every bargain they see, goes bankrupt."

"The wolf that chases every deer it sees, starves."

"The closer you get to a landmine, well. You'd better ensure you have a damn good reason for approaching it initially."

"Have you ever wondered why I am in Sirius at all? According to the propaganda of the crown, I lived in an oasis of paradise when the rest of mankind remained populated by nothing more than savages. Why resign myself to chaining myself up in the philosopher's cave with the other captives when I was born in the sun? Why bastardise truth? Pioneer spirit is a knavish attribute."

"Contrarily, you demand that I prove myself to you. I prove nothing, as I have nothing to prove. What kind of man am I? Why. I am merely a man; nothing more, nothing less. There are bloody billions of them lining the stars, and are hardly in short supply. I am affluent, yes, I am far from impoverished, but money is trivial and lacks an intrinsic worth. Gold may glitter, gold may maim, but gold, whatever worth it holds, is a waste of exchange. Likewise, so is information. Information is always subject to change, and has the wonderful quality of invalidating itself with the decay of time, and when all the songs that remain sing from skinless jaws and the last corpse of memory is plonked down deep in the terra firma, nobody will remember the value of memory. All is arbitrary - humankind trades in dreams, fairytales, moments of fantasy and romance. We all live to be libertines, and all suckle the dreams that fit our mouths until we starve or grow fat on the flesh of our litter mates. Do not think me enough of an imbecile to assign my life a definitive value - cosmically, it lacks a purpose. I have no dependents, few aspirations but illusions and craven, nightmare cravings, and pockets fat enough to keep me in flesh and out of gunpoint. I am an Achille-scale bag of flesh with a definitive sell by date, and after that, I will be naught. I have no intentions but to preserve my pithy, pathetic, parasitic arbitrary value I assign to my life for as long as I can wrest from the universe."

"This makes Achille Augustain Nadeau no different from any other inane mass of sentient flesh; no different from any of the other constituents of the great human pyramid merrily crawling up over each other to reach the last gasp of oxygen left to them. I have talked about making a change to the universe, yes; "change" being this wonderful quality that physics demands as mandatory and renders everything eventually finite, even change itself. But Achille Augustain Nadeau will not live to see the last molecule putter into the dark, and, according to the analysis of a certain other, Achille Augustain Nadeau is a man of complacency. After all, it's a bad pack mate who will not chase after the most obvious kills, correct?"

"Gorgeous are your insinuations of merely being press a few particulars, flip a few switches, and have me jump. And yet, cheri, I have jumped. In a linear analysis, this would provide you the position of social dominion - some inherent quality to render me thrall. Remember; in pugilism, bending is a significant component of the fighting stance. Something that is bent, has the elasticity to straighten. Potential force to exert. Something that is straight, upstanding, imposing… ah, well now, in come the Babel allusions like sheep to the pen."

"I will not, and never will, federate with a third party. Does my individuality, my dogged perseverance to the allusion of free will, frustrate you, Tara? Better a willful delusion than an involuntary truth. I will not be rushed, I will not be shepherded, I will not let my Jericho fall no matter how virtuosic a brass band you bring to the siege; but I will bend, and under compression, I will survive. Perhaps this is why you have brought no army with you in the first place; perhaps you believe that only a single agent would be enough to tempt me to entertain treatise; you would be correct, but merely entertaining will never win a signature."

"Everyone has the capacity to influence fate. An illiterate junker scratching her arse with a combination wrench may not cause Inari Shrine to stage a Kusarian Coup, but chaos theory is such a devilishly difficult predicament to disapprove. Possible futures are an incorrigible thing - the universe will not listen to your pleading; its response to your actions are purely reactionary, as opposed to considerate."

"Let me return a query: If I silence this transmission immediately upon the basis of some feigned sensitivity to the barbs that saturate your tongue, and denounce you for a monster, then what will become of me? To summarise what you have already informed me; nothing. I am in nirvana. I refuse to believe that what goes up, must come down. And yet, even Rome decays."

"Even vanquishers, find themselves vanquished."

"You ask me what kind of a man I am? An entertaining query for the purpose of provocation, clearly, but have you never considered the idea that the questions that you ask of me may not be the ones you should, oh-so-transparently, be asking?"

"Now. Let us take our pretense to transcendence, and entertain the darkest, and most shocking, idea, that I may actually be direct with you. And what answer could I ever give but what I speak below?"

"I am not a man. I am an Achille-shaped hole."

"My Jericho lies unassailed; I choose to sally forth and pitch carnage beyond the walls."

"You see, there's a beautiful thing about causes; the bigger they come, the harder they fall."

"I await more. Do you?"

THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

Information | Recruitment | Message Dump |
Feedback | Diplomatic channel

(Links pending redevelopment).

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