[h1]RPGC#14 - Reality[/h1] [h2]Winning entry: Shattered Realities[/h2] [i]I shatter the wall between us, author and reader become characters in the story. Together we breach a literary wall which both was and never was. For reality is an illusion dear reader, even the ones I create. And perhaps in an alternate reality, the story does not end here.[/i] No. The writer shook his head. His fingers standing idle at the keys. No, it would not do. Nothing so short would win great acclaim, nothing so simple and yet paradoxically complex. It was something his cheeky grin made within moments of seeing the prompt, raw and unrefined, a joking blank verse poem that regretful fingers had typed. The writer sat there, thinking, pondering, searching the soul for beauty and mind for wit. It had to be clever, something to impress his peers, and like a wee ant amongst the giants, he wracked his brain for thoughts. What cleverness could he have? Look deep into the mind, hoping to find the inspiration of his muses with ever breath. [hider= The Mirror] [i]In another reality, the story does not end here. The looking glass began to crack, splintering across the mirrored sky like lightening reversed. What was up became down, and what was down became up; a reversal of what is and what was and hints of what will be. The truth revealed the beauty of it in one eye, and the ugliness which offends in the other. A hand brought up to touch a face disfigured, trembling unsteady as claws raked across flesh. A gasp, the terror, the horror, oh how did the wicked truth reveal. No, it cannot be, what trickery was this? What treason, what treachery? In denial the mind rejected it, the psyche shrieked out in vain, but vanity was its own reward. A malicious heart as black as the pitiless eye that stared viciously back. she was pretty once, but now look, look upon how hideous this accursed device had made her! Look away, it lies! It show you nothing more than lies, was not your cheek tender to the touch? was it not smooth and supple? Firm with the promise of youth eternal. Skin that glowed paler than the moon, and more radiant than the sun, the envy of the stars above. Perfection without flaw, every pore gleaming of attraction. Gaze upon the visage of a goddess, immeasurable beauty beyond words, that which poets cannot capture. Yet a single gaze could capture the hearts of men. Imagine it so, that with one glance, a flutter lashes from an iridescent eye, rendered the mind numb to all other sights. Look into those pupils deep and become entranced in the swirls of colours. Inch forward, closer and closer still, still the heart that longs aching in the chest. Look. look and tell the goddess the truth from quaking lips. A gift bestowed. A mirror ancient as e Only the wise may see the direction the story begins.[/i] [/hider] No, no, a work left unfinished. The rest never came, but what a novel idea it would have been. The last line was the first he had written, after deleting the first failed attempt at greatness. And from there the story wrote itself, folding and unfolding at fast fingertips, exploding with letters and words as ideas flowed out like lightning. The thunderous pauses with every tap of the spacebar, and the flash of the blinking cursor which marks the head of the literary storm. Though like all storms it died out, for the way the story was to be structured, the way it was to be told, was to be read first from top to bottom by the reader, until the very last line. Yes, it was the last line which actually implied the story was to be read in reverse, from the bottom line to the paragraph above, and so forth until indeed the line at the beginning, the remnant of his silly poem, was to remain in the minds of the readers amazed and entertained at the ingenuity of a story which altered its meaning when read backwards or forwards depending on the perception the reader had. Alas, the story failed to take flight, and died out as a dark muse emerged from the mirror. A terrible whisper, from the computer screen as the Writer stared at the abyssal grey. A smiling shadow, a ripple across the labyrinth of white words against the ebony shade. Yes, it was madness, a madness that was purely refreshing. Like the world was just a dream, and he was waking for the first time. Eyes wide opened, a clear twinkle in his eye. So began a new story, one word at a time. [hider= Dreams of the Oneiroi] [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] A soft female voice greeted guests over and over again. A constant cycle as the sound system repeated its loop, the unceasing track reminding patrons where exactly they were and what purpose there was to be here. It was a clean facility, sterile and pristine, every bit of from the plastic polymer walls humming with hypnotic lights to the pulsating floor tiles which rippled with every barefoot step man took. He was washed and nude, as was protocol, disallowed to bring anything but his own body into the white room. Any contamination had been removed in the room behind him, an airlock sealed in negative pressure as he recalled his dead skin cells being brushed and scraped off his body. Hair shaved and the roots plucked, a cool gel applied to orifices and his eyes disinfect and destroy any cellular debris, it stung, but for the chance of a lifetime, it was worth it. Like the namesake god of antiquity, Morpheus provided a way for someone to experience their deepest desires, all in this very surreal room. Morpheus began as the brainchild of a neuroscientist by the name of Mitchell who created a dream. And within the dream Mitchell discovered the clarity of thought. To delve further inwards into the very thought processes, the very signals that process thought, until the scientist understood how his own brain functioned. Not only how the complex neuronal pathways worked, but why, and when, and what was needed to alter the bridges and weave a completely new memory. But it was not just a memory, no for by tampering with the physical mind, Mitchell had unwitting unlocked the secrets of experience. For every moment in time was infinitesimally delayed as the brain works on the delayed lag between what is current and what was passed by currents of electrical impulses. So no human truly experiences reality by the moments but rather by the memories the brain creates which in turn build the world a man is immersed in. And this, this is why history knows not of Mitchell's last name, for the epiphany drove him insane. His colleagues turned on him and placed the mad neuroscientist to be regarded as a psychotic footnote in history. They thought the world was safe from his madness, but they thought wrong. Mitchell had his revenge, as his notes detailed the revelation he had within his dream. It was only a matter of time before they resurfaced in the hands of one with the means and the power to pursue the mad writings of a man who lost his mind trying to mind it. A Merely decades ago humanity had tinkered with the budding technology of augmented reality, the then novel concept a leap forward in the path to Mitchell's dream. Augmented reality for the masses was wasted on games, causing people to forget that reality was harder than their glorified augmentations, that real life still went on and only fooling the eyes to believe a monster was there was not enough. So within months, reality was broken down and replaced, augmentation became old news, and virtual reality became the standard cutting edge. For there humanity was willing to blind itself and completely shut off reality itself to become immersed in a world they felt they could reach out and grab. Though they found themselves very disappointed that they punished themselves with high grapes and low waters. Was this not what they wanted? A torment in knowing everything was just an illusion? but as technology continued to evolve, illusions too festered and became old hat. it was only within the last three years of the Morpheus project that humanity saw the ultimate experience. Based on his esoteric writings, scientists were able to decrypt and decode the ramblings of a madman into science. With cerebral stimulations and the right dose of interneuron regulatory drugs supplied, the right combination of notes would create an experience of information enough to fool the mind into thinking it was indeed the reality being perceived. The trick of course was first finding the correct combination for everyone, as the brain was a unique system and not all develop the same connections from person to person to person. As such it was a process in first recording the activity of the brain. The first few sessions were to establish the baseline, hours of walking through the subject and having them recall and recollection experience they've had before in their lives to modulate and mimic the very same findings in order to fool the brain. A boring an tedious requirement to use the Morpheus chambers, but the man had persisted this far, too far to be denied to experience the fruits of his long labour. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject Biometrics Detected. Welcome back Subject 26120. Please standby, Authorization Received. Our systems are currently preloading your neuronal data. Thank you. Processing complete. Please proceed to the chair. Remain calm while the process begins. Thank you. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Who voiced her? That calming female voice, robotic but almost motherly in a sense. Reassuring and comforting, the guidance slow and patient, with the same looping tagline she seemed to endorse. Yes, artificial intelligence also boomed in tandem with the rise of the hyper-computing needed to run the Morpheus room, but all that was behind the man who just wanted to finally try the device at last. It was just as last time as he laid his body down on the waiting chair, reclined back as his arms and legs rested into place. A metal cap descending down upon the top of his skull from the pneumatic arm. Now for the next part that had always freaked him out, the needles, injecting themselves into his head through the tiny holes in his skull they made months ago and had filled with a strange sealing putty. He'd never get used to the sensation of having his brain imprisoned by those things, one move was all that it took for permanent brain damage. Which is why all subjects were electrically paralyzed the moment they sat down into the chair to avoid movement. It was also to stop any jerky reactions while in the fantasy world which may injure the patient, though such paralysis also required supplemental oxygen and nutrition to be administered which was the next series of tubes being injected into his wrists. And when the sounds of the heart monitor began to bleep, the man knew it wasn't long until he would be put under the spell of Morpheus. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Battle. He was a knight from the legends of old. Upon his gallant steed he rode. His enemy in sight, his sword drawn and waved proudly in hand. Something he had never done because they did not exist, slaying a dragon, but this machine, this wonderful machine had created this world for him to experience it. An amalgam of his own imagination of what it would be like, and the feelings he demonstrated when he experienced courage and pride, of superiority and looking down at his foe as the threat seemed so easily vanquished. Like the legendary heroes, he clipped the dragon's wing, sharp blade cutting into the scales and flesh as blood spurted out to anoint him victor. His hearty laugh followed a warcry. What a sensation! Oh it was worth it! And there would be a tomorrow to try the Morpheus room again, and a tomorrow after that, and one after that. Each day to experience a new pleasure as the power of the human mind was unlocked. So fight, fight until you awaken. And you know when you're awake, because in this simulation, you were unbeatable and aren't confined to a chair. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] A soft female voice greeted guests over and over again. A constant cycle as the sound system repeated its loop, the unceasing track reminding patrons where exactly they were and what purpose there was to be here. It was a clean facility, sterile and pristine, every bit of from the plastic polymer walls humming with hypnotic lights to the pulsating floor tiles which rippled with every barefoot step man took. He was washed and nude, as was protocol, disallowed to bring anything but his own body into the white room. Any contamination had been removed in the room behind him, an airlock sealed in negative pressure as he recalled his dead skin cells being peeled and removed off his body. Hair shaved and the roots plucked, a cool gel applied to orifices and his eyes disinfect and destroy any cellular debris, it stung, but for the chance of a lifetime, it was worth it. Like the namesake god of antiquity, Morpheus provided a way for someone to experience their deepest desires, all in this very surreal room. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject Biometrics Detected. Welcome back Subject 26120. Please standby, Authorization Received. Our systems are currently preloading your neuronal data. Thank you. Processing complete. Please proceed to the chair. Remain calm while the process begins. Thank you. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Who voiced her? That calming female voice, robotic but almost motherly in a sense. Reassuring and comforting, the guidance slow and patient, with the same looping tagline she seemed to endorse. Yes, artificial intelligence also boomed in tandem with the rise of the hyper-computing needed to run the Morpheus room, but all that was behind the man who just wanted to finally try the device at last. It was just as last time as he laid his body down on the waiting chair, reclined back as his arms and legs rested into place. A metal cap descending down upon the top of his skull from the pneumatic arm. Now for the next part that had always freaked him out, the needles, injecting themselves into his head through the tiny holes in his skull they made months ago and had filled with a strange sealing putty. He'd never get used to the sensation of having his brain imprisoned by those things, one move was all that it took for permanent brain damage. Which is why all subjects were electrically paralyzed the moment they sat down into the chair to avoid movement. It was also to stop any jerky reactions while in the fantasy world which may injure the patient, though such paralysis also required supplemental oxygen and nutrition to be administered which was the next series of tubes being injected into his wrists. And when the sounds of the heart monitor began to bleep, the man knew it wasn't long until he would be put under the spell of Morpheus once more. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Space. He was in space. Which direction was up? The weightlessness in floating, the beauty of the stars as far and bright as your eyes could see it was nearly blinding. Something he had always dreamed of, being in space, but this machine, this wonderful machine had created this world for him to experience it. An amalgam of his own imagination of what it would be like, and the feelings he demonstrated when he experienced awe and wonder, of swimming and looking down at the world as the planet seemed so distant. His laugh unheard in the vacuum of space. What insight! Oh it was worth it! And there would be a tomorrow to try the Morpheus room again, and a tomorrow after that, and one after that. Each day to experience a new pleasure as the power of the human mind was unlocked. So look, look until you awaken. And you know when you're awake, because in this simulation you could see the beauty of the galaxy, and aren't confined to a chair. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] A soft female voice greeted guests over and over again. A constant cycle as the sound system repeated its loop, the unceasing track reminding patrons where exactly they were and what purpose there was to be here. It was a clean facility, sterile and pristine, every bit of from the plastic polymer walls humming with hypnotic lights to the pulsating floor tiles which rippled with every barefoot step man took. He was washed and nude, as was protocol, disallowed to bring anything but his own body into the white room. Any contamination had been removed in the room behind him, an airlock sealed in negative pressure as he recalled his dead skin cells being peeled off his body. Hair shaved and the roots plucked, a cool gel applied to orifices and his eyes disinfect and destroy any cellular debris, it burned as he blinked his eyes, but for the chance of a lifetime, it was worth it. Like the namesake god of antiquity, Morpheus provided a way for someone to experience their deepest desires, all in this very surreal room. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject Biometrics Detected. Welcome back Subject 26120. Please standby, Authorization Received. Our systems are currently preloading your neuronal data. Thank you. Processing complete. Please proceed to the chair. Remain calm while the process begins. Thank you. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Who voiced her? That calming female voice, robotic but almost motherly in a sense. Reassuring and comforting, the guidance slow and patient, with the same looping tagline she seemed to endorse. Yes, artificial intelligence also boomed in tandem with the rise of the hyper-computing needed to run the Morpheus room, but all that was behind the man who just wanted to finally try the device at last. It was just as last time as he laid his body down on the waiting chair, reclined back as his arms and legs rested into place. A metal cap descending down upon the top of his skull from the pneumatic arm. Now for the next part that had always freaked him out, the needles, injecting themselves into his head through the tiny holes in his skull they made months ago and had filled with a strange sealing putty. He'd never get used to the sensation of having his brain imprisoned by those things, one move was all that it took for permanent brain damage. Which is why all subjects were electrically paralyzed the moment they sat down into the chair to avoid movement. It was also to stop any jerky reactions while in the fantasy world which may injure the patient, though such paralysis also required supplemental oxygen and nutrition to be administered which was the next series of tubes being injected into his wrists. And when the sounds of the heart monitor began to bleep, the man knew it wasn't long until he would be put under the spell of Morpheus once more. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Falling. He was falling. From the blue skies above. The wind rushing in his hair, and the sound deafening to the ear. Something he had never done, sky diving, but this machine, this wonderful machine had created this world for him to experience it. An amalgam of his own imagination of what it would be like, and the feelings he demonstrated when he experienced fear and excitement, of falling and looking down at the world as the ground seemed so distant. Like the comic book heroes he felt the surge of power, tucking his arms and legs in straight as he sped down like a bullet to make impact. Pulling up at the last moment to find himself propelled in the direction he chose, truly like a hero in flight. His laugh scattered behind him like the sonic blast. What a rush! Oh it was worth it! And there would be a tomorrow to try the Morpheus room again, and a tomorrow after that, and one after that. Each day to experience a new pleasure as the power of the human mind was unlocked. So fall, fall until you awaken. And you know when you're awake, because in this simulation you could feel the wind in your hair and aren't confined to a chair. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] A soft female voice greeted guests over and over again. A constant cycle as the sound system repeated its loop, the unceasing track reminding patrons where exactly they were and what purpose there was to be here. It was a clean facility, sterile and pristine, every bit of from the plastic polymer walls humming with hypnotic lights to the pulsating floor tiles which rippled with every barefoot step man took. He was washed and nude, as was protocol, disallowed to bring anything but his own body into the white room. Any contamination had been removed in the room behind him, an airlock sealed in negative pressure as he recalled his dead skin cells being peeled off his body. Hair shaved and the roots plucked, a cool gel applied to orifices and his eyes disinfect and destroy any cellular debris, it burned as he blinked his eyes, but for the chance of a lifetime, it was worth it. Like the namesake god of antiquity, Morpheus provided a way for someone to experience their deepest desires, all in this very surreal room. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject Biometrics Detected. Welcome back Subject 26120. Please standby, Authorization Received. Our systems are currently preloading your neuronal data. Thank you. Processing complete. Please proceed to the table. Remain calm while the process begins. Thank you. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Who voiced her? That calming female voice, robotic but almost motherly in a sense. Reassuring and comforting, the guidance slow and patient, with the same looping tagline she seemed to endorse. Yes, artificial intelligence also boomed in tandem with the rise of the hyper-computing needed to run the Morpheus room, but all that was behind the man who just wanted to finally try the device at last. It was just as last time as he laid his body down on the waiting table, reclined back as his arms and legs were locked into place. A metal cap descending down upon the top of his skull from the pneumatic arm. Now for the next part that had always freaked him out, the needles, injecting themselves into his head through the tiny holes in his skull they made months ago and had filled with a strange sealing putty. He'd never get used to the sensation of having his brain imprisoned by those things, one move was all that it took for permanent brain damage. Which is why all subjects were electrically paralyzed the moment they got on the table to avoid movement. It was also to stop any jerky reactions while in the fantasy world which may injure the patient, though such paralysis also required supplemental oxygen and nutrition to be administered which was the next series of tubes being injected into his wrists. And when the sounds of the heart monitor began to bleep, the man knew it wasn't long until he would be put under the spell of Morpheus once more. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Diving. He was diving. Into the blue water below. The water wetting his hair, and the sound crashing in his ear. A memory of swimming underneath a waterfall, with the one who got away, but this machine, this wonderful machine had created this world for him to experience it. An amalgam of his own imagination of what it would be like, and the feelings he demonstrated when he experienced love and happiness, of falling in the cool water of love and looking at all the world in your beloved's eyes. The honeymoon they never had, the one of his dreams who left him. Splashing the waters as he ran towards the One he loved, arms holding dearly, and a kiss planted across the lips. A passion unmet ignited, and love left him breathless. What heaven! Oh it was worth it! And there would be a tomorrow to try the Morpheus room again, and a tomorrow after that, and one after that. Each day to experience a new pleasure as the power of the human mind was unlocked. So love, love until you awaken. And you know when you're awake, because in this simulation you could ask the one you love for anything and aren't confined to a table. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] A soft female voice greeted guests over and over again. A constant cycle as the sound system repeated its loop, the unceasing track reminding patrons where exactly they were and what purpose there was to be here. It was a clean facility, sterile and pristine, every bit of from the plastic polymer walls humming with hypnotic lights to the pulsating floor tiles which rippled with every barefoot step man took. He was washed and nude, as was protocol, disallowed to bring anything but his own body into the white room. Any contamination had been removed in the room behind him, an airlock sealed in negative pressure as he recalled his dead skin cells being peeled off his body. Hair shaved and the roots plucked, a cool gel applied to orifices and his eyes disinfect and destroy any cellular debris, it burned as he blinked his eyes, but for the chance of a lifetime, it was worth it. Like the namesake god of antiquity, Morpheus provided a way for someone to experience their deepest desires, all in this very surreal room. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject Biometrics Detected. Welcome back Subject 26120. Please standby, Authorization Received. Our systems are currently preloading your neuronal data. Thank you. Processing complete. Please proceed to the table. Remain calm while the process begins. Thank you. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Who voiced her? That calming female voice, robotic but almost motherly in a sense. Reassuring and comforting, the guidance slow and patient, with the same looping tagline she seemed to endorse. Yes, artificial intelligence also boomed in tandem with the rise of the hyper-computing needed to run the Morpheus room, but all that was behind the man who just wanted to finally try the device at last. It was just as last time as he laid his body down on the waiting table, reclined back as his arms and legs were locked into place. A metal cap descending down upon the top of his skull from the pneumatic arm. Now for the next part that had always freaked him out, the needles, injecting themselves into his head through the tiny holes in his skull they made months ago and had filled with a strange sealing putty. He'd never get used to the sensation of having his brain imprisoned by those things, one move was all that it took for permanent brain damage. Which is why all subjects were electrically paralyzed the moment they got on the table to avoid movement. It was also to stop any jerky reactions while in the fantasy world which may injure the patient. How many times had he does done this now? Three? Four? Everything had fallen into routine by now hadn't it. And when the sounds of the heart monitor began to bleep, the man knew it wasn't long until he would be put under the spell of Morpheus once more. [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] Writing. He was writing. Of all things to do in a fantasy chamber, why did he want to be here? Sitting at a desk and staring at the blinking cursor. He was waiting for something, his muse perhaps, to come by with another kiss. They were married now, the pictures of them together smiling scattered across his desk. A memory of remembering what never was and only occurred in his dreams. But this machine, this wonderful machine had created this world for him to experience it. An amalgam of his own imagination of what it would be like, and the feelings he demonstrated when he experienced grief and bitterness, of losing and lamenting the hopes and dreams you held so dearly to your heart. It was just a dream, all of it a falsehood made by the wishful mind, not a bit of it was real, just a simulation of love and happiness, of bravery and pride, of awe and wonder, of excitement and fear. It was foolishness to think the Morpheus room was better than reality, because the moment you stepped away from it, reality snapped back to tear you up, blind your eyes, twist your arms, and leave you gasping for breath as it crushed you. It left you heartbroken. What trickery! Oh it was wicked abuse! And there would be another fool tomorrow to try the Morpheus room again, and another after that, and one after that. Each day to experience a new lie as the desires of the human mind was exploited. So Awaken, Awaken and see what they have done to you! [i]Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies. Subject 26120 has been compliant with our Neural Sedation Program. Although there were some instances where subject was able to perceive changes done to him. We were able to successfully counter most of the effects despite his body's effort to warn. The skin grafts and eyes have already been claimed the moment the system went live. Currently three of four limbs have also been sold for bioaugmentation. Ten minutes remain on the auction for his Lungs. Uploading Offer of Subject 26120's Heart. please Standby, auction for part to commence in twelve minutes. Welcome to Morpheus. Live your fantasies.[/i] And when the sounds of the heart monitor stopped, he was dead. It was the horror of the Morpheus project, Mitchell's mind dark and twisted. A way to farm organs, harvesting them from unsuspecting nobodies. Enticed into the program how they would chase after a dream just as Mitchell did. Their dreams would eventually turn into nightmares from which they would never wake. And Mitchell, well, he had accomplished this dream of his; a nightmarish karma as a befitting punishing those who wished toy with reality. A sense of poetic justice, for the psychopath perhaps, but indeed he was locked away in the madhouse for these very thoughts. his colleagues feared his choking grasp on reality, unhinged and delusional, and yet perhaps, just perhaps, remotely entertaining to analyze just how off the deep end his mind was. And to every false fantasy, there exists a slice of truth, peppered in like a grain of salt. Poured in like the spirit, and then baked tongue-in-cheek with a sly wink and nod to the Unseen Ones. For there are the many Mitchells of this world, the dreamers and gods of their own fantasy worlds, and where the mad ones gathered, they wove together their masterpieces. They made reality, of their minds, within their minds, and then let it invade the minds of others. That was the nature of their reality, every changing and yet constant, bound be the rules and yet free to be made as the heart desired. For reality is often merely words on a page. [/hider]