If you'd like to speak on it, I'd readily listen. As an outsider, looking in, with no presumptions or biases. - 🩺
I'll make an attempt, at least to share some of it. If you want anything more recent, or in more detail. message me on trollian. my username is the same.
CAMBRIAN: lets start with the highlights I suppose.
CAMBRIAN: Once upon a time, several sweeps ago, there was a wiggler named Mahina Nenetl. they were pointless and detestable, with attempts made on their life constantly. And then one day, when they were about five sweeps, they tripped and fell, and were spared from the certain death this would mean by being claimed and consumed by a dimension of endless darkness. The void was awful, and terrifying, and beautiful. They spent a long time there, wandering a boundless world of night, desperate for escape, and then the Universe started to talk to them. It gave them a choice. Continue on as they were, useless and alone in the void as themself forever, or become its vessel, and become someone worthy of its love. The coin was tossed, both realities becoming simultaneously true, and I am the lose condition. I slit my own throat and it climbed inside my body. I listened to it, obeyed it. It granted me knowledge, endless information at my fingertips, and a purpose. To bring about the end of the world, to kill and to cause my own murder.
CAMBRIAN: like the monster I am, I never questioned it. I tortured as I was instructed, ruined the lives of people who it deemed necessary. I didn't hesitate, or doubt. It told me it loved me. I was so stupid
CAMBRIAN: Fast forward a long way, and we get to the game. If you're still suspending your disbelief at this point, I'd ask you continue. There is a name that has many names. sBurb and sGrub are the most common I've seen. It transports the players into a new world, with the goal of creating a new universe. This is what I was built for, to make sure the game crashed and burned. Each player in the game has a Class, and an Aspect. Your class is what you do, the way you enact your influence over your power. Your aspect is what you have power over. I was- am. am am am. I am the thief of mind. Thief, someone who takes from or who takes, and Mind, choices. This was by design. I was intended to ruin everything.
CAMBRIAN: and then my friends executed me.
CAMBRIAN: That sounds worse than it was. Despite my role requiring me to be apathetic, something showed through my facade, something worthwhile. Something worth saving. So they waited until I was at my quest bed (a place where, if you die, you will be revived with your full powers from earlier explained Classpect. I can get into details later if you want.) and then.... It was for my own good, the way they ripped the universe out of me. But I was scared to die.
CAMBRIAN: When I survived, waking up in my own body, my new, different body, with nothing but my own blood in my veins, I had a whole new problem. What was I supposed to do without it? All my moves in my lifetime were dictated to me. Sure, I did bits and pieces that weren't strictly relevant, but that was nothing compared to the endless potential in front of me, a black hole of choice and failure that threatened to consume me. I only ever had one choice, and I chose wrong
CAMBRIAN: the steps to the next part are unimportant so I'll skip over them. I was specifically meant to die at one person's hands. a version of th3m from a timeline where I almost won, only to be time looped, had come back to change things in our game, to try and save the world. The steps to it are unimportant, but the end result was the basement I died in over two hundred times. In the game, a god tier (someone who died on the quest bed, for purposes on this) can only die if it's heroic or just. H3 knew it'd be neither, and just didn't care. It wasn't about justice, only ever revenge.
CAMBRIAN: I'm skipping over details, some for speed and others because they aren't my business to post to the world. I was rescued from the basement, and I stole my own mind. I took every choice I would make, every view I had, from a memory of myself, and I held it tightly. So long as I had that, I'd be able to survive. Not as the vessel but as the thief of mind
CAMBRIAN: of course, it's never that easy, but I've talked your ear off already.