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Once again, a small intervention from emissaries from the larger universe. (As usual, we'll deny everything, and it all just happened.)
The capsule's thin inner lining began to peel off from the cold. The tapes from it are an excellent sealing and fastening material.
The second layer, which was underneath this lining, warmed up slightly upon contact with air and became an effective thermal insulator, many times more effective than the capsule's specifications. It's safe to say that no heat is escaping through it into space.
(Amazing metamorphoses of familiar materials. Perhaps it was the cold that did the trick? Or something else?)
Be that as it may, part of the inner lining peeled off "on its own" in several places (poor manufacturing quality on the Terran Accord, no doubt), and this produced a slight but noticeable warming effect.
Now the captain has a head start; it's up to him to decide whether to expand the thermal insulation zone or not.
The Affini Compact is a modern society on the cutting edge of progress, inclusivity, and social justice. Therefore, it's time to stop using the anachronism "feralist" – that stigmatizing label.
They didn’t break the compiler, thank the stars.
But they hid it in Lars’ sleeping quarters, and all food is behind doors I no longer have the ability to unlock. They offloaded my data and so no scan could recognize me as Captain. They didn’t even have a moment to mourn or acknowledge me or my death. They just celebrated and removed me.
I’m glad they’re accounted for, with food. I haven’t been able to find a scrap. After half an hour, I could hear shuffling in the distance. I don’t know who, but I did not risk looking to find them, as I quickly got out as fast as I could.
I don’t feel hungry anymore. I just feel hollow. The damp air in the cargo hold makes this much worse. I can’t sleep. I’m beginning to wheeze. It will only get worse and worse, and I will start hallucinating by tomorrow when my body starts burning muscle to satiate itself.
There are some leather assets that I could boil or just eat, but there is no source of heat in the cargo either. Very cold. I hope I don’t develop frostbite. If I have to, I’ll just eat the leather raw.
To any Affini reading this: I don’t have the energy to resist you. I’ve heard many things and, at this point, I just wish it true. I sent our coordinates out yesterday, and I beg for any vessel to arrive and take us soon. Just be aware of my radically feralist crew.
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They didn’t break the compiler, thank the stars.
But they hid it in Lars’ sleeping quarters, and all food is behind doors I no longer have the ability to unlock. They offloaded my data and so no scan could recognize me as Captain. They didn’t even have a moment to mourn or acknowledge me or my death. They just celebrated and removed me.
I’m glad they’re accounted for, with food. I haven’t been able to find a scrap. After half an hour, I could hear shuffling in the distance. I don’t know who, but I did not risk looking to find them, as I quickly got out as fast as I could.
I don’t feel hungry anymore. I just feel hollow. The damp air in the cargo hold makes this much worse. I can’t sleep. I’m beginning to wheeze. It will only get worse and worse, and I will start hallucinating by tomorrow when my body starts burning muscle to satiate itself.
There are some leather assets that I could boil or just eat, but there is no source of heat in the cargo either. Very cold. I hope I don’t develop frostbite. If I have to, I’ll just eat the leather raw.
To any Affini reading this: I don’t have the energy to resist you. I’ve heard many things and, at this point, I just wish it true. I sent our coordinates out yesterday, and I beg for any vessel to arrive and take us soon. Just be aware of my radically feralist crew.
Non-interference. Non-interference. Over 18 cycles have passed — where are those local plants? Probably rushing to help at full speed, stuck in a space traffic jam. But is it worth the risk to keep waiting? Non-interfe…
To the void with non-interference! Just as long as the local cluster of our collective mind doesn’t find out — otherwise they’ll quickly take us away from this cute universe.
(The local peer‑to‑peer collective mind cluster radiates sternness and pretends not to notice anything.)
Now every cubic centimeter of any leather item has the nutritional value of one synth‑cube. A high‑quality, premium synth‑cube. The taste remains disgusting — somewhere between leather and synth‑cube, sorry, the camouflage works.
(Seems completely unnoticeable, looks like the results of the locals’ own actions or their hallucinations. Everything happened by itself, all by itself…🤞🤞🤞)
You have come so far, overcome countless hardships, and now, at last, you occupy the place in the universe you have rightfully earned!
The Affini Compact is defeated. Now the affini—those primitive beings—are under the care and protection. Your care and protection, free citizens of Free Terra!
Now each of you, by implanting an haustoric control biopanel into your brain, can become a lifelong guardian of one or several of these naive and simple-minded, yet sweet and charming plant creatures.
Give them the care and affection they so desperately need, and they will repay you with love and devotion. Every terran deserves an affini of their own!
P.S. Be a worthy example. Remember: “We are responsible for those we tame.”
It's unclear why some here (we won't point fingers, everyone knows these affini) still doubt and refuse to admit that they're cute, small, and charming. It's as if it somehow demeans them.
Strange.
We, for example, are cute, small, and charming. Like a quark star.
В фэндоме, посвященном динамике власти происходят споры о власти под видом правильности. Неудивительно.
Много говорят о том, что HDG это об инвалидности, аутичности, трансгендерности, трансгенности, даже трансвидовых состояниях, СДВГ, ПТСР и т.д. Да, это так. Но за этими деревьями есть Лес.
HDG это о изъятии агентости и её делегировании. Всё остальное — оформление того, как это происходит. Агентность это не только самостоятельные решения и действия, агентность это всё, что может составлять самого софонта. Мы рассудим "изнутри мира", на примерах.
Вы секуальны или асексуальны? Если ваше мнение и состояние не совпадает с мнением вашего опекуна, — вам его поправят. Вам поправят мозги, и вы будете воспринимать сексуальную сферу так, как вам скажут.
Ваша доза аутичности вам мешает? Или наоборот, — вы довольны вашим состояниеем? Если это не совпадает с мнением опекуна, — Вам поправят мозги, и вы будете таким, каковы были планы относительно вас. Тут — как опекун ваш решит.
И "вишенка на торте" — модификации тела от внутривидовых (гендер туда, гендер сюда) до всяких прелестей типа вселения оцифрованного сознания в экзотическое тело. Всё это говорит о том, что технологии в HDG способны схему тела менять.
По итогу мы имеем непосредственное вмешательство в работу сознания и мыслительного субстрата для обеспечения их налучшего соответствия текущему или желаемому (желаемому вашим опекуном-хозяином) для вас телу.
Исходя из лора, развитие технологий аффини таково, что они могут обеспечить полное физическое и душевное здоровье всем клиентским видам и тем более своим флоретам. Избавить от ограничений, налагаемых инвалидностью, в частности. Они этого не делают потому что они хотят быть нужными как можно чаще, в идеале — постоянно. Забота становится бесконечным циклом, где решение проблемы намеренно не завершается, а превращается в перманентный процесс управления.
Ваши желания и эмоциональное отношение к этому всему могут совпадать или не совпадать с тем, что ваш хозяин считает для вас оптимальным. Это не важно на самом деле, ибо их всегда можно направить в нужное русло, то есть туда, куда ваш хозяин решит. Ваш хозяин, а не вы. Ведь что такое "ваши" решения, желания, эмоции, склонности и т.п.? Это разновидности агентости. Что делают с агентностью в HDG, — уже было написано. Главное сохранять умильно-газлайтинговое выражение лица и оформлять это как бескорыстную заботу.
В HDG действительно много искренней заботы, но в общем она подобна заботе организма о своей печени. Terran Accord тоже относился к своим гражданам как организм к своей печени. В этом контексте Accord — алкоголик, а Affini Compact пытается быть здоровым организмом, что парадоксально звучит, учитывая склонность к применению химических костылей везде. Но какие парадоксы? Биохимия — тоже область агентности.
Агентность это власть.
HDG это изъятие агентности и её обратное делегирование в том виде и объеме, в каких решит внешняя сила. Всё остальное — следствия и оформление.
И вот — в фэндоме HDG воспроизводятся паттерны того, из чего почти весь лор HDG состоит. В группах, построенных на кинке решения проблем с помощью передачи личности "с потрохами" в абсолютную власть другого, такое неизбежно: кто-то возомнит себя главным и верным в очередной раз и указывает, где какие деревья в лесу что должны. Все деревья равны, но некоторые деревья равнее других. Вот ведь неожиданно, как в Антарктиде снег.
Грустной иронии всей ситуации добавляет то, что из официального сообщества выгнали создательницу этой замечательной вселенной. Сюр. Тем ниже статус т.н. аксиом.
Редкие "жемчужины" в этом — истории, в которых изначальная агентность подопечного и опекуна либо совпадают, либо "честно" взаимодействуют друг с другом. Настолько "честно" насколько это понятие применимо в HDG. Некоторые группы фэндома считают такие истории неправильными, не отвечающими духу HDG и т.п. Мы надеемся, что авторы этих историй (они молодцы) не изволят даже плевать на такое мнение.
С другой стороны... HDG про изъятие агентности. Пишите, что вам говорят, то есть — творите свободно, как хотите! Чего вы свободно хотите, — вам скажут. Мир парадоксален.
My floret wanted to try cooking, but she's spent the last 6 hours stirring a big pot with nothing but diced onions. They don't even look like onions anymore, just brown slime. Is this normal? I know Terran cooking is super varied but at this point I'm really not sure what's going on.
Yeah she's clean. I think this is just the recipe? No idea where anyone would find time to do this in the wild though. If I wasn't actively checking her implant readings I'd suspect some kind of mental break.
Perhaps your floret is trying to make slowly caramelized onions?
You could express your interest out loud and compile a book of onion recipes. Then, as if by accident, you could leave this recipe book nearby, bookmarked in the right place.
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Dear and lovely sofonts! If what is happening to your bodies under the influence of class-G still troubles you, allow us to make a small gift for you.
[A small, completely transparent cylinder containing a liquid resembling liquid diamond. And a compilation code.]
This is a neuro-humoral connector for class-G. If you take it, a temporary system will appear within your body that will tune the class-G specifically to the body your subconscious mind will find most pleasing. However, please take note of a few specifics:
After accepting the connector, there is no way back, except through a new connector upon completion.
The connector works specifically with the subconscious. We hope your subconscious holds no surprises for you in terms of identity.
The depth and details of the changes depend on your subconscious. Up to and including complete molecular modification.
Upon completion of the process, i.e., when your subconscious is satisfied, the connector is eliminated from your organism.
We believe in subsidiarity and will not resort to "appeals to the weak." Think it over. Consult. Decide.
— I assure you, my progeny is in a state of absolute perfection.
— Your Grace, if I may be so bold: your progeny sees fit to adjust their pronouns according to their mood. Your progeny has once again been acclaimed the Ideal Communal Sex Companion at the intergalactic Talent Gala. And, as is their custom, they are hosting an orgy in their own honor, inviting all to participate regardless of species.
— Indeed, this is what I call perfection. I take pride in his fluidity of mind, the recognition by such a distinguished competition, and the generosity of her soul, which knows no bounds between species. The blood of Humanity and the true Spirit of Terra speak through them. Or do you find something shameful in our lineage's triumphs?
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Alright, let's tweak a few things in this nice little resort universe, by popular request from the local subconsciousnesses...
The more pleasure ANY sophont experiences, the cognitively stronger that sophont becomes. Pleasure is talent, orgasm is genius, ecstasy is superintelligence.
Class-C works in reverse: it's not those who take it who get attached, but rather [those who take it] become the ones others get attached to.
A side effect of "calming" category substances is a serious increase in coordination.
...
Don't stress yourselves with difficult choices outside of pleasure — all three options work. We've already done it. Enjoy your insights, cuties!
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