Dafydd.

No split personalities here, just the accent.

Merry Christmas!

It seems someone got carried away with this one. This best not be a trend with new content or we'll be losing what few players we have left. There's a stark difference between an entertaining challenge and an utter waste of time.

It really is quite charming to see that, after all the time that has passed during my involvement with MxO, this place is still an utter and complete gong show.

Ah, just noticed the thread. Here's hoping the powers-that-be get on this post-haste.

I've encountered a bit of trouble since the latest patch was uploaded to the server. As the launch pad for MxO starts up, the username and password fields do not appear. Instead, a pop up message appears, announcing "Patch system error  (result code -15): A required file is missing." As the log-in prompt is interrupted by this message, it is impossible to carry out a full system scan (which would be my first impulse on receiving this sort of error message).

My next impulse would be to re-install the whole game. However, this is not possible. My MxO CD's are back in Canada, and I'm going to be abroad until the beginning of April.

Is there any way to work around this? I'd really rather not have to wait four months to get back into things...

Just lingering in a different time zone...

((I still have the "Bomb Defusing Manual" or some such from the Hunt for Morpheus. Uh oh. :p))

lol syntacks noes arpee 4 suer!!!

/sarcasm

Retconning? I'm going to hold this against you.

Outrage, Confusion at Captain's Death

October 25th

Authorities reported today that the captain of an African vessel docked in Mega City's harbours had been found dead by the crew during the late evening of October 23rd. Captain Kwabena Ashanti had been closely monitored by officials on suspicion that his ship was associated with smuggling operations. Captain Ashanti's apparent assassination seems to confirm these suspicions, one police official said on condition of anonymity.

The Captain's home country, a small East African republic, has sent a letter to federal law enforcement agencies from its Embassy in Mega City. Amidst calls for resignations and internal investigations, the letter demanded that the assassin be found and brought to justice immediately. Given the lack of cooperation on the part of the ship's crew however, it seems unlikely that this case will be closed any time soon.

"Duel" Bond

"Sabat Mater IXXI" Sasha Lazard

"Der Meister" Rammstein

"Hokkaido" Amon Tobin

On a separate but related note, Bond's "Korobushko" seems to fit quite well for Pandora's Box missions. Starts off slow, ends with an intense crash. 

PvP is bound by the limitations of the game mechanics.

RP is bound only by the limitations of one's imagination.

... What was this thread supposed to be about?

- Void

Best Laid Plans by Austrian of Recursion

http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300017986

"Best Laid Plans" http://forums.station.sony.com/mxo/..._id=36300017986

BienTan wrote:

Anyone else beaten the game yet? If you've seen the writing on the walls and are attempting to decipher the message, I'd be interested in sharing thoughs on the matter- just obviously not out in the open where it would spoil the surprises in store for those still making their way through the game.

If you look further back in the thread you'll find a link to a site about just that. =)

Curses! Foiled again in my attempts to sound cryptic!

I now bestow the title of "SpeedyZtryker" upon you.

COD4 is simply awesome. I managed to sneak into the Beta, despite not being American, and fell in love with it there.

I have a few issues with the realism, as is usually the case with games. The grenades have much too generous blast radiuses. The fighter jets would never fly that close in, even when providing close fire support. The reload time for the light machine guns when you don't have "Sleight of Hand" is ridiculously slow (a person reloading that slow by the time they're being sent on deployment would be rightly beaten senseless by his or her Section mates). But it's a video game so I can't complain.

Anyone else obsessed with the music from the Epilogue mission? I can't stop playing that one over and over...

This one has been harder for me than in the past. The Remembrance Day of year's past- all I had to worry about was polishing my boots and making sure I burned all loose threads off of my uniform. This year, it's a bit different. Now it's not just remembering an impersonal loss through my great-grandparents. Now it's remembering guys I trained with and wishing that I'd been over there with them when they got caught in the flak.

As a former soldier, I thank all of you who are spending this day (or yesterday) in remembrance. You're what makes serving a worthy sacrifice.

I've generally thought of Austrian as being Julian Sands. In fact, the "24" character Vladimir Bierko seemed quite similar to my mental conception of what Austrian would look and act like.

But I have been thinking that, after years of Awakened life and after all that he has been through, he might have aged faster physically and developed a heavy dose of cynicism. So perhaps James Woods (namely his role in "Shark" as Sebastian Stark) might be a better depiction.

This one has been harder for me than in the past. The Remembrance Day of year's past- all I had to worry about was polishing my boots and making sure I burned all loose threads off of my uniform. This year, it's a bit different. Now it's not just remembering an impersonal loss through my great-grandparents. Now it's remembering guys I trained with and wishing that I'd been over there with them when they got caught in the flak.

As a former soldier, I thank all of you who are spending this day in remembrance. You're what makes serving a worthy sacrifice.

The issue of politics, politicians and bureaucracy has always made me a bit curious within the frame of The Matrix. It's always made me interested in my life beyond this game but the situation of simulated reality brings up some interesting questions.

First of all, what do you think politicians and leaders are in The Matrix? Are they Programs, people completely suckered in by The System or are they just total fabrications that don't even have avatars in The Simulation?

I'd like to hear your theories on the matter and we'll see where the discussion goes from there.

MatrixRefugee wrote:

naes177 wrote:

It has Austrian, so it has to be good.

~V

I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or you're complimenting us, V, so I'll take it as a compliment from you.

You'd be amazed how often I hear that.

Good way to take it, though.

~V

The Connection- Vanil says we're cool so we must be cool.

Note for the future: When making a post which might be deemed either sarcastic or complimenting, add to the end of the post in order to clarify to the reader that is, in fact, complimenting and not sarcastic. Please be advised that Austrian is not liable for accidental slipping of the fingers on the keyboard to produce :p rather than which would cause the post in question to be misconstrued as sarcastic and not complimenting, inadvertently leading to a widespread forum epidemic of drama. Additionally, Austrian is not liable for individuals not reading this thread and/or not comprehending the babbling contents of this disclaimer note-thing leading them to think that you're is, to use the term, "a twisting of the knife" that leads to severe kidney haemorrhaging in sickeningly gratifying ways in concordance with the grotesque and gory North American traditions of the season during which this post is being made. If you're still reading this disclaimer, I pwnzor. Pwnzor is used in the context whereby the word indicates the innate coolness of Austrian, The Connection, Sieges and all other associated trademarks by virtue of testimonial advertisements posted on both the first and second pages by individuals who are arbitrarily deemed "cool" by the Council of Coolness, the Chairman of Charm, the Prime Minister to your Sister, and other equally flattering but quasi-geeky self-bestowed honorifics.

The Connection- We've got more sarcasm :p

Three Months Ago

 I couldn't help but admire the military precision with which the Commandos moved about the drill hall floor. I hadn't seen such a display of efficiency since my time in Triluminary. I missed those days on some level. To be able to look out from our war room in Horizon and admire how everyone and everything had its own purpose and moved with drive towards the completion of those purposes. Walking down the streets of the city, one couldn't help but notice the disorder that the population was rife with. Some people walked on the left and some people walked on the right. Some people just stopped without warning in front of a crowd to chat with a friend, forcing the foot traffic behind to spread out around them or push past in frustration.

With the Commandos, just as it was with Horizon, there were unmarked and unofficial lanes of traffic. There was a fast lane and a slow lane for people walking clockwise and counter-clockwise around the drill hall's perimeter. There was a lane closely hugging the wall where individuals could pull off to the side to discuss some issue without deviating in their route to an appropriate side office. The center of the drill hall was off limits except to officers or troops carrying particularly heavy loads. It was a perfect system that could be enforced through disciplinary actions by those with authority but discipline was not needed. There was self-discipline. A self-instilled notion of efficiency that led to this base working much like an orchestra. Each instrument did its part and, on its own, seemed rather dull. But taken as a whole, these Commandos were capable of impressive feats. Despite a design flaw in some of their RSI disguises of the past, they had fooled quite a few people. I was here to meet the man- or Program, rather- behind the machinations and behind this display of order.

The drill hall wasn't an Armoury per se. It was more of a converted warehouse on the Edgewater river front. The side offices, like the one I was waiting outside of, were likely converted storage closets. Some didn't even have proper doors and seemed to be much more like alcoves than rooms. Standing around, waiting for The General to be ready, I found myself wondering how the presence of the Commandos were justified to the Bluepill populace. A National Guard unit stationed in the city to deal with increasing terrorist threats? Election cheer leaders for David Beatt's bid for Presidency?

I was playing with such theories when a uniformed Master Sergeant stepped out from the alcove office that was designated for The General. It was slightly comical to me for the briefest of moments. Two men- a Program and a person- standing toe-to-toe in a warehouse-turned-armoury while staring at one another through sunglasses that were worn in a building with poor lighting. I decided that the hilarity of the circumstances was evident only to me when the Master Sergeant didn't return the smirk. He just offered a slight inclination of his head and a gruff acknowledgement. "Sir. This way."

I followed him in and blanched at the choice of artwork on one of the walls. It was a framed photograph of Dresden from the Second World War. During a bombing run. Apparently one of the crew members of a bomber massacring Dresden took it upon himself to take a photograph of the destruction and then to distribute it. I had to remind myself of two things as my fists clenched in a spat of sub-conscious anger. First of all, was the bombing of Dresden real? To me, the question of the authenticity of the event felt like hearing Ahmadinejad on the news questioning the truth of the Holocaust. But it was a question that needed asking. If those civilians had never been slaughtered by the hypocritical wrath of the Allies, was there anything to be angry about. Second of all, I had to remind myself that I was here to ask something of someone else. I was not in the ideal negotiating position where I could make immature demands for apologies and the removal of the photograph from The General's wall. Besides, even if he did take it down to make me comfortable, who was to say he wouldn't put it back up after I had left and then laughed and jeered at my sentimentality with his aides?

"Mr. Paul Lipp, sir." The Master Sergeant announced my entry, the heel of his boot making a nice snapping sound on the floor as he came to attention.

"Austrian, pleased to meet you." He got up from his seat to offer me his hand. We shook and I took the indicated chair. Certainly more pleasantries than I had ever received from an Agent or even most Exiles.

"The pleasure is all mine." I returned a thin smile.

"I looked at your proposal. It's very good. But what's the objective?" He asked. So quick to end the formalities.

"The objective is to access the indicated data nodes." I answered bluntly. That should have been all he needed to know, in my opinion. The rest was just business.

"Those are short-term objectives. Stepping stones, if you will. What's the long-term objective?" He asked, not giving up. He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, a gesture indicating that we weren't going anywhere with this conversation until he was satisfied that he knew what the long-term objective was.

"The truth. I've been asking the same questions for a long time now and no one has given me a proper answer. If they won't give me the answer, they leave me no choice but to take it." That was one way of putting it.

"As you know, I spent a lot of time working with Zion. You sound an awful lot like one of them." The General mused. He was probing to see what my response would be to a potentially perceived insult. I decided to indulge him.

"Zion is anthropocentric. They're sentientists who discriminate between entities as to who or what deserves moral consideration on irrelevant bases. There's more to being human than simply being made from flesh. The human race, with the state we are in... there's little basis to say that a machine does not deserve to be afforded certain inherent rights. So Zion wishes to deny Machines their right to life because Machines are 'different'. I don't want to deny anyone their right to anything. I just want to know where I'm from and where my family and friends are." It was a bit of an incoherent diatribe. But the jab irritated me.

"You're quite passionate about-" He began.

"Are you going to help or not?" I interrupted.

We sat there for a few moments in silence. The creased brow on the old Program's face furrowed further as he seemed to weigh his options and judge my resolve. I just stared back at him. I'd stared into the eyes of older Programs than he. I still remembered seeing those hollow empty sockets of The Assassin's "face" staring back into mine. That... thing still haunted my dreams. In many ways, I suspected that thing still haunted The Matrix. That thought consoled me in moments of confrontation like these. I had faced off against an entity like The Assassin and survived. Sure, I wasn't the one who fired the last shot into that being. But I had the knowledge that I could face off against something which had been around long before The General and would, in some form, still be around long after The General's code had been recycled into pigeons a dozen iterations from now.

"You have a deal, Austrian." The General finally said, getting up from his chair to offer me his hand again.

"A wise decision." I answered, accepting the gesture.

I had a plan and I had resources. Now it was a matter of timing to begin to achieve the objective.

As the Master Sergeant led me out of the office, I cast a glance at the photograph of Dresden on the wall. I understood now why The General had chosen such a thing to adorn his wall. Vengeance could never be the objective or it would be vengeance in excess. There was never such a thing as equal and proportionate use of force- no such thing as the principle of reciprocity. There had to be higher ideals to fight for in order for the cause to be justified. My cause was just.

I just wondered if his was...

Given Zion's propensity to constantly intervene in quarrel's our Organization has solely with E Pluribus Neo, it's little wonder "Old" Zion fell to The Machines. I wonder how much longer New Zion can stand when its Hovercraft are sacrificed to protect supposed rogue elements.

((Grrr! Already have RL commitments at the time and date for this one :S Have fun on this one everyone!))

For reference, an Incubus as it appears in The Matrix. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wBlpm0HQ2I

It was always a pleasure speaking with you, Dezreki. I hope that you enjoy all the best in life. You won't be gone for long. I know I wasn't

When I was young, I used to catch a cold once or twice a year. Perhaps there's some reasoning behind it that would make sense to a Machine Program. Perhaps it was just a lack of originality in hard-wiring my memories of life in foreign countries. Regardless, I would fall ill with something like the flu once or twice a year- the first time in March and the second time in December.

My mother and I had a theory as to why this would happen. In March, the onset of the symptoms was brought about by a combination of stress and allergies. As the snow began to melt in Graz, my hometown in Austria, the plants and trees would come back to life. They would throw up pollen to spread life about the town and the countryside- and, of course, this pollen would play havoc on my sinuses. The excitement of a new year, the impending summer and my birthday would cause my immune system to abandon its post long enough for the allergy to really get me feeling under the weather.

In December, it was a similar theory. The cause of my two-to-three day sickness was a combination of stress and allergies. You know those incense candles they burn around Christmas? Combine over-powering scents like those and the excitement of the season and you have the recipe for a brief feeling of sickness.

Aside from these theories I had in my Bluepill life, there was one common thread between all of the illnesses I suffered during my childhood. Before I got sick, I would always smell this bizarre scent. It wasn't the pollen or the incense. It was something else entirely. I would call it... well, the best way to translate it to English would be "the sick smell". It always just smelled like sickness somehow. A little like the smell you might detect coming off of an aging and chronically ill relative only weeks before they die. Or like the smell you can detect even over the pungent chemicals in a hospital wing.

It's the smell of suffering. Maybe some of us are just attuned to the emotions and physical well-being of others more so than the rest of the population. Maybe it's just a warning system that our minds are pre-programmed with in some kind of intuition.

In any case, I smelled that smell again today as I walked the streets of Westview. There's normally a stench of decay hanging over that part of the city. But I'd know this smell- the smell of suffering- anywhere. It's something that you just don't forget once you've encountered it once.

I pray, for all our sakes, that no one else encounters it this autumn. But somehow the way the leaves just keep piling up and rotting on the side of the road tells me that this is a sickness which refuses to be ignored. It will just keep rotting, keep festering until it boils up over the rim of the boundaries we set up around it whenever it seeks to spread.

Someone's been drinking?

Don't trust the people who tell you to drink lots of coffee when you read this tomorrow morning