Could you put a list of what quality's does a player determines if he is a prospit or derse dreamer's ?
That’s still debated. We have been unable to find out what makes people sleep where. We could try looking over our bases.
Prospit Dreamers and Optimistic, Derse Dreamers are Pessimistic. This makes sense considering that being on Prospit is like being in a fairy tale, and being on Derse is a gritty noir nightmare. Especially since one has Skaia and the other one has Eldrich Death Squiddles in the sky. But this has been disproven. Some a lot of native Sessions have noted depressed and hopeless people on Prospit, while a lot of go-getters have been on Derse. This categorization is 100% incidental.
It’s about Aspects and Active/Passive Roles. Someone suggested this a long time ago, and while I cannot pick it out, I fail to believe it. The game has no other categorization types like this anywhere else. Such an oddly scientific and specific classification seems absurd.
There’s no way to find it out. It’s all bullshit. This is very likely.
Prospit Dreamers have Clean Beds, Derse Dreamers have Messy Beds. This is the single consistency we found, and so it’s the only one I believe in, aside from the above.
Found: Pathfinder Campaign, Shadowrun Campaign, The Sims 3, The Sims 4, and Fallout 76 main character on account (so, mine).
Powers: Personal Regeneration, Recall Memory, Remove Memory, Replace Memory, Slow Time, Speed Time (object/environment), Pause Time, Astral Travel (between dimensions/worlds/lands), Ice Magic, Physical Transformation
Things Cannot Do: Hold a steady job, fire magics, healing magics, stay alive for extended periods of time, accounting, home ownership, keep items, stay fed, not talk to self, stay close to friends, basic mortal things, use his powers extensively (or to their true potential), use dragon form whenever
- Ascended from a mortal, who had a colorful life before hand. Had a gift to see into futures. Actually demanded the gods to ascend him (for reasons.)
- Sexual avoidance, due to previous trauma when mortal.
- Likes food (pretzels,) walks, art, classical music, snow, coldness in general, and quiet time
- Dislikes depend on the day, but mostly the voices. He hates them passionately. Also, crosswalks.
- Voices are possessions, as they can come, take over, and go as they please. Yavik has had an ability to commune with these entities since a child, but it worsens on certain realms. On Earth, it’s horrible. So many people, so more spirits/demons/etc.
He has similar individuals in the world like him, ten others to be precise. They might come up in speaking or person. (If it becomes too much of an issue, I’ll make them OCs as well).
- Elvorian has made an appearance in a text post, and he’s been in Pathfinder, Shadowrun, Genesys, Sims 3 & 4. He is also a god entity, previously an elf: natural law, science, and knowledge. So, a really smart Storm, noodle Dragon.
The problem with waking up after one dies is, that individual has no control where they’re going to wake up. Nor do they get the privilege of forgetting everything that happened. Yavik's fingers and toes twitching in this cold environment. Eventually, his hand starts feeling beneath him. Cold. Metal. Wait, what? He was on cement, grass, dirt. His hands trace to the edge, finding nothing, then a wall. He’s also covered by... paper? Oh. Oh no.
Finally, he feels like he can move more than just his hands and arms and immediately tries to sit up, but bangs his forehead on another metal surface. “Ow,” he winced, rubbing the spot after laying back down. It’s dark in this place, but with his darkvision, he can tell he’s in a metal box. That was kept cold from the fans he could hear running.
“I’m in the morgue again, aren’t I,” he murmured to himself. Yavik stared at the ceiling, feeling his body slowly coming back to life. He could feel everything, his legs shaking and his muscles in his chest twitching. Wiggling his toes, yep. There it was. The infamous toe tag. Not to mention, that also meant something was probably in his butt to keep things from leaking out. He didn’t want to think about that. Not to mention, the vivid memory of the person tearing his heart out, slamming into trees. On top of all those problems, he was starving and thirsty.
After one push, Yavik tried to push open the tray again. It slid open enough so he could push his fingers into the crack and pull it open. Unfortunately, this was also when he heard that the diener was with someone else who was weeping, then screaming when the drawer slid open more.
Yavik slowly sat up, his hand on his head and very naked. He could see where the incisions on his chest, because the stitches were still in. So, they tried to find a cause of death. But the screaming from the woman made him look that way.
Yes, it was a body identification. Sad, seemed like a younger male. Maybe a brother or son. But the lady was flipping out that he appeared out of a morgue drawer, while the man in the white coat just stared, flabbergasted. He swung his legs over the side of the drawer and pulled up his leg to look at the tag.
“I need file number,” he began, squinting at the tag. “16B2945? I’m checking out.”
“Wait wait wait, sir--” the man in the lab coat said, quickly going to his side as he tried to stand up. “We need to get you into the emergency room and all of our records are digital. So getting that file isn’t exactly as easy as asking for it--” This was exactly what Yavik didn’t want to happen. The woman was just staring at him wide eyed, her face pale, and the tears still rolling down her face.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Yavik said, with a nod her direction. The woman just quietly nodded, pressing the tissue against her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make this more difficult for you. However... I really need to use the restroom.” Not to mention drink, eat. He was starving and felt weak from the week of regeneration. The man just nodded, opening a door towards the back. Great, he didn’t want him to go into the hospital just to escape, but use the employee bathrooms. Fine. It’s fine. Yavik got up, grabbing the paper just to wrap around his mid-section for some modesty and headed that direction in a hurry.
Which he was able to find the bathrooms readily, but also a mop bucket right outside of it. His eyes widened and he just charged the bucket, sticking his head inside it, pressing his lips against the surface, and drinking the dirty cleaning water. Yavik didn’t care; he was that thirsty. Chemicals and dirt did nothing to his body anyway.
What he did care about was someone else was in the hallway, as he vaguely heard walking his direction then stopping. Watching him not far away from the restrooms. Also in a white coat, black shoes, dark slacks.
“Must you drink out of the dirty mop bucket?” Came a British voice that Yavik recognized. He slowly pulled his head from the bucket, the soap and dirt dripping from his chin, as he peered at this older looking individual with brown eyes, white hair tied back.
“You work here?” Yavik asked. The man sighed, touching his glasses as though he had a headache, which caused Yavik to panic a bit more. Also, he realized his piece of paper was gone. “Elvorian, I’m sorry! I just... I’ll go back to the morgue and--”
“Yavik, shut up,” the man said, taking off his lab coat and walking closer to the man on the floor. Elvorian wrapped it around his shoulders. “Follow me.” Yavik nodded and followed him, after threading his arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the coat a bit. The blonde man followed him to what looked like a laboratory where he was let in, the door shut immediately behind him and locked.
“I haven’t seen you since erm,” Yavik started, trying to remember exactly when. It was difficult to retrieve, since his mind was filled with being mauled in a children’s play park. He sat upon one of the examination tables without ceremony, still trying to think of anything but Vlasta.
“You never showed up and the Virginia Company demanded a refund?” Elvorian asked, raising an eye brow. Yavik’s eyes widened; oh yeah. “Then I had to come to the New World by myself and work like a bloody mutt for seven years to repay your dues. I shouldn’t be damned to help you, but here I am.” Yavik quieted down. The other man began digging through drawers.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I was planning on coming back, but the people were insistent that I stay. Then the Spanish came and I... had to disappear. When I was made my way up here, I was chased out of so many settlements for being a... witch. Or ghost.” Elvorian threw a bag at Yavik, which he caught and noticed it were chips. Without saying anything else, he opened it and began eating. Another bag of crackers came his way, then some cookies.
“It’s in the past,” the other replied. “You know I don’t like to keep grudges, but I was just joking with you.” Yavik looked meekly up at the other man, while opening the crackers and devouring those too. “Is that why you don’t come yearly anymore? Are you that afraid we all hate you?”
“I w’undn’t ame yo all,” Yavik said, mouth full of crackers. He swallowed. “My self-loathing knows no ends, so if you all hated me too, that’s fine.”
“Yavik,” Elvorian said, sitting beside him and holding a pair of scissors. Yavik’s eyes followed him, scooting over a bit so they didn’t touch. Oh. Right. The stitches in his chest from where they tried to autopsy. “We’ve known each other much longer than most. Can you seriously look me in the eyes and think that I would hate you?” Yavik paused for a moment, then dumped the rest of the crackers into his mouth. Elvorian sighed. “I suppose you could project your feelings onto me, but I don’t see that as fair. Especially to Lelouche. He asks every year if anyone has seen you.” The man leaned closer and began taking the stitches out of Yavik’s chest.
“Well, this year you can tell him you have,” Yavik replied, a bit indifferently. “Running from the morgue naked just to drink out of a mop bucket. He would love that mental image.”
“Do we really mean that little to you?” Elvorian asked, his gaze becoming a bit more studious. “Or are you that hard upon yourself for something that was out of your control?”
“I fucked up,” Yavik said, simply. “Quina and Raziel are correct. Without me, our planet would have been fine. Bahamut and Tiamat still with us. Our families, our friends. Everyone, Elvorian. But no. I had to give everyone vacations, and rewind time to make things better-- ow!” Elvorian had yanked on the last stitch intentionally, effectively shutting him up.
“We all fucked up,” Elvorian retorted. Yavik seemed to shrink back a bit as he began removing the debris. “You warned us that using your powers too fluidly like we had would cause consequences. Yet we just assured you we weren’t going to do anything that bad to obscure a, b, or c. Then we did. They want a scapegoat so that they don’t have to feel bad.” Elvorian quieted for a moment, then shrugged. “Not like they’re devoting time to thinking about it anyway, Raziel with his position as CEO and Quina, head of the Pentagon.” A sigh came from Yavik and he began to rub the sides of his head.
“So, you’re a doctor here?” Yavik asked, trying to change the topic.
“Director of research and rehabilitation.”
“Impressive. How long?”
“They’re going to be throwing a party for my 25th year this coming Friday.”
“Well congratulations, doctor.” Yavik looked at the empty bag, still feeling hungry. “I guess that means you’re going to have to retire in the next ten years then go somewhere else.”
“I was going to try for 40 this time,” he replied. “40 years doesn’t seem too far off now, since humans are living longer.” Elvorian finally moved from Yavik’s side, heading to a cabinet and opening it. He pulled out a shirt, slacks, and shoes. “I keep this in here just in case I have a board meeting, but I’ll just buy a new suit.” He placed the clothing beside Yavik.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I don’t. But I am.” Yavik gave a half smile before starting to slip the pants on. Elvorian went back to the door and peered out the glass. No one was running up and down the hallway looking for a naked man, so he assumed the coast was rather clear.
“You’re such a damn pushover, LV,” Yavik said, with a smirk. He took off the lab coat and put on the button up shirt. They were of similar stature, after all.
“I’m not. I just help my friends when they need it, because I don’t have too many of those.” Elvorian moved from the door. “Humans die so quickly, it’s difficult to create a meaningful relationship in such a short time.” Yavik perked at this, then realized.
“Oh, you live here,” Yavik said, as if suddenly remembering. Which he didn’t forget. “But if you come across a short asshole named Vlasta... and when I mean short, I mean your height before you ascended and decided to become tall.” Elvorian’s eyes cut towards Yavik. “He’s the one who put me here. Ate me I think.”
“Ate you.”
“Yeah. Cannibal, demon, thing. Lives here in town. Works out of the Red Light District.”
“Why were you in the Red Light District?”
“Looking for trouble. Found it!” Yavik chuckled. “But yeah, if anyone comes up missing, it’s because he ate them.” He finished putting on the shoes. “You can do whatever you want with that information.”
“Well, I don’t frequent the area,” Elvorian said, pointedly. “But if there’s a nurse or two who want to go out on the town, I’ll warn them to stay away.” Yavik stood up, feeling a bit better now. He was dressed, fed, and drank dirty water, but that was alright. It would keep him for a bit. “Considering that’s where you frequent though, I’m assuming you’re the mysterious body that showed up in the child’s play park?” Yavik gave him a strange look. “Just avoid that park, will you?”
“Ah, right,” Yavik replied, with a nervous laugh.
“Do you have anywhere to go tonight?”
“Well, I don’t know. I was planning on skipping town.”
“Come home with me.” Yavik’s eyes narrowed at the other, as they went to the door and Elvorian unlocking it.
“I beg your pardon, are you propositioning me?”
“No, I’m offering you a place to eat and drink as much as you would like.” Yavik looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Good, follow me. You just happened upon me at the end of my shift and I rather not stay for the director’s meeting.”
“Oh, I’m an excuse.” Elvorian paused, then turned.
“If you would like to stay in the hospital, I could just ask a couple nurses to pick up ‘the man from the morgue’ and take you into a nice padded room until the government comes to retrieve you?” Elvorian asked, a pleasant smile on his face. Yavik’s eyes widened. “You know how much they would want your regenerative ability, once they figure out that’s what kept you alive. Plus, I doubt you’re restored enough to escape easily, just a few measly snack bags and bucket water. Aside from the obvious, you’ll be in Quina’s care most likely!” Yavik laughed uneasily, scratching the back of his head. He forgot how creatively sadistic Elvorian could get, but that’s what Yavik got for ignoring them all these years. Not to mention, Yavik was on his turf now.
“This is so nice of you to take me to your house! I can’t wait to see it,” he replied, completely trying to derail that idea entirely. The pleasant smile, now seeming more sinister, stayed on the other man’s face as they walked down the hallway. Yavik followed on the other’s left side, a step behind him. His eyes looked around nervously at the surroundings, not to mention, he was walking a bit funnily. Why... oh. Right. The plug. He forgot to take it out, as he was more worried about sustenance. Still was more concerned with replenishing his strength, but now this just made things even more awkward.
While Yavik was focused on his personal problems, Elvorian swiped his badge at the appropriate terminals, bid the nurses good evening pleasantly, then continued onward as if Yavik was supposed to be by his side. Of course, this made no one question him directly, but whispers of a boyfriend or relative were heard soon following them.
“I hope you don’t mind the bus,” Elvorian remarked, as they stopped at the covered station.
“Why would I mind a bus?” Yavik asked, seemingly coming back into focus.
“Because of whatever you have up your ass is showing,” he retorted. An embarrassed flush came over Yavik’s face. “You’re walking as though you were fucked all day. Relax.”
“Easy for you to say, as you don’t have anything up yours,” Yavik muttered. Elvorian gestured back to the hospital. “No thank you.” The smirk on his lips spoke volumes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Yavik,” Elvorian’s tone was much more serious now and the smirk gone. “I truly just wish for your happiness. And no, there’s no enjoyment putting you in such a spot. Your stubbornness knows no bounds so this is the only way I can twist your arm slightly. Recall, I don’t have the same capacity for emotion as everyone else does.”
“I recall.”
“You don’t have to pity me.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.” The bus stopped and Elvorian took a couple steps forward, taking out a bus pass from his wallet. He negotiated with the driver to use two of his swipes to allow his friend aboard, also adding a twenty to the tip jar. Yavik felt a little guilty for making Elvorian go through all this trouble, but it seemed the man saw his expression and whacked him on the back of the head once they sat down.
“Ow, what was that for?” Yavik whined, rubbing the back of his head.
“I saw that. I told you. No pity or guilt.” Yavik looked sheepishly at Elvorian. “I’m doing fine, Yavik.” Yavik’s fingers began twitching a bit, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “I know you’re probably uncomfortable.”
“Extremely.”
“Comes with dying.” It almost sounded dismissive, but Yavik knew better. If anything, he had spent more time with this guy than his best friend. Then again, who said one could only have a single best friend? If that were the case, Elvorian would be in that ranking too. Yavik looked at Elvorian, who was staring out the window.
“You really don’t hate me, do you?” Yavik asked, looking a bit surprised. Elvorian’s eyes moved, as if seeing Yavik’s reflection in the window. “You want to move on from that, huh?”
“Preferably. However, if that bothers you that much, I don’t see how I can put your mind at ease.” Yeah, it was a bit unrealistic of an expectation. Yavik sighed and returned his gaze to the front. The bus wasn’t exactly empty, but Yavik didn’t care.
After a good twenty minute ride, Elvorian reached up and pulled the cord to signal the next stop was theirs. Yavik leaned against Elvorian to look out the window, effectively crushing him into the side of the bus. Oh. A bunch of condos. His eyes widened at the manicured areas, the people walking dogs. Tennis court? A small dog park?
“This... this is where you live?” Yavik asked, as Elvorian pushed him back into his seat.
“Yes,” Elvorian said, rolling his eyes and beginning to stand since the bus was coming to a stop.
“I thought you would be in the middle of no where, not surrounded by people.” He just shook his head, as Yavik stood too. Moving out of the bus, still a bit stiff legged, Yavik and Elvorian stood side by side, looking at the sky scraper in front of them. Elvorian just moseyed to the door.
“Mr. Yungsen,” the doorman said, nodding and opening the door.
“Mr. Eddison,” Elvorian replied, with a nod. “My friend here, Anton will be spending a day or so in my condo. So if he’s coming and going, you know.” The doorman nodded, smiling at Yavik. Yavik just nodded too, wondering if this truly was okay. In the elevator, there was one other person in there, holding her small dog. Elvorian smiled at the woman, pressing the button while Yavik kept his gaze on the door.
“Are you coming to the party tonight, Ed?” The woman asked. Elvorian shook his head. “Shame, I was hoping to see you.” She looked coyly at the man, slowly petting whatever it was (a Shih Tzu?) on the head.
“I’m entertaining a guest from out of town,” Elvorian replied, his tone implied he was uninterested in what she was offering. “It’s important, due to research funding for the hospital. I’m sure the homeowner’s association will understand.” He finally turned his brown eyes towards the woman. “Besides, I heard that your husband will actually be able to make the party tonight, correct?” Her gaze seemed to twist with a bit of disgust, but she nodded all the same. Elvorian smiled politely. “Please, enjoy with him.” As he smoothly exited the elevator. Yavik followed quickly behind, not saying a word until they reached the door. He leaned against the door frame, watching Elvorian remove his phone from his pocket to open the door (they have an app for opening doors?! What?).
“Still a favorite with the ladies, I see,” Yavik remarked.
“Still not interested in sexual relations as well,” Elvorian confirmed. Yavik smiled; this is why he liked Elvorian. While Lelouche would pressure him into relationships, Elvorian didn’t give two rats asses about intimacy and romance. He was grateful it was Elvorian who found him, because after that last death, Yavik was a bit shaken.
Once the door opened, Yavik pushed past Elvorian and made his way to what looked like the kitchen. The sink was turned on (with a wave of his hand?! What is this) and Yavik pressed his lips to the faucet, effectively taking in all the water greedily. He stayed attached to the sink for what he knew was at least twenty minutes. Air? Who needed air? His body needed hydration. Finally, Yavik removed his mouth, choking and coughing. He wiped it on the sleeve that he momentarily forgot wasn’t his.
“You... you said I could eat anything right?” Yavik called, realizing he didn’t see where Elvorian went at all. And it was mostly an open floor plan condo, as he finally took in the space. So, he wasn’t in the living room, kitchen, dining area, nor office. This made it easier to assume the man was in his bedroom or bathroom.
“Help yourself,” the reply came back. Yes, from the direction of what looked like a bedroom. Yavik started through the cabinets, grabbing food that he found. He also found that the dishwasher and refrigerator looked like cabinets too. How modern and cool! Which meant more food from the refrigerator. The pile was dumped onto the bar and Yavik started ravaging it, stuffing what he could into his mouth.
As he was gorging himself on food, Yavik noticed Elvorian returning from the bedroom, in what appeared to be lounge pants, a loose fitting t-shirt, and slippers. Very comfortable appearing and not seeming perturbed at all by Yavik’s gluttony. If anything, he went into the kitchen and opened a cabinet while Yavik was still shoving things into his mouth. The sound of a glove slapping against the other’s wrist made Yavik pause, enough time for him to swallow what he had been chewing.
“What are you doing?” Yavik asked, slowly looking over his shoulder. Elvorian was fully gloved now and was taking out a trash bag.
“You wanted that thing out of your ass, right?” Yavik stared at him.
“I can take it out myself,” Yavik admitted, laughing nervously.
“They use hammers to wedge it far up there, Yavik,” Elvorian said, his face going completely stoic. Yavik’s eyes grew wide. “It doesn’t come out as easily nor cleanly.”
“You wanted to touch my ass.” He said it jokingly, but the silence that followed made Yavik tense.
“No, I would rather not. But I’d rather help you than watch you cry as you continuously find new bits coming out your anus.” Yavik closed his eyes and trembled at the thought. Yeah, he would do that. “So continue eating and try to ignore what I’m doing back here. But I do require you to remove your pants.” Slowly, Yavik unlatched his pants and let them drop to his ankles. Elvorian placed the trash bag just over the pants to prevent whatever was about to come out to stain it.
“Hey,” Yavik said, his voice quiet. “Before you begin... erm, could you get me ice cream?” Elvorian was quiet, and Yavik wondered if he was going to get the ice cream or not. But the door to the refrigerator closed, a drawer opened and it was slid beside him with a spoon. Looked like vanilla. So Elvorian. “Thank you.”
“Just... attempt not to scream too loud?” Elvorian reminded. Yavik eagerly opened the lid and dug the spoon into the ice cream, putting it to his lips. Nice and cold. “And if you have to, make it sound erotic.” Yavik’s eyes widened.
“Wait what?”
“I was joking.” Yavik let out a nervous, timid laugh. Then tensed again when he felt the gloves on his ass cheeks. “Breathe, it’s going to hurt. I’m not going to lie, but it will hurt more if you tense.” Yavik placed the spoon in his mouth, full of ice cream and tried to focus on that and not Elvorian looking into his anus. “I... think I see it. That man wedged it up there rather far.”
“Please, no narration,” Yavik whimpered, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “I hope you weren’t needing this for anything because I’m taking it all.”
“I told you to eat your fill.” Yavik could feel his fingers entering... oh gods no no no. Yavik began shoving more and more ice cream into his mouth, until it started to drip down his chin and onto the counter, his eyes welling with water as he attempted to stay still and not make a sound. Gods, it was big. At least, it felt big as it was slowly being taken out. He whimpered a couple times, as the plug hit a ridge or sensitive spot. And the stench. Everytime he wiggled it, some new smell would hit that would gag anyone lesser. At least, Yavik was trying not to gag and focus on the ice cream. Elvorian was just quiet, not making a sound.
Finally, his anus was finally freed from a backup and Yavik just let out a relieved sigh. He heard the plug hit the trash bag, but it wasn’t the only thing that was coming out. Elvorian continued not to say anything, just the sink water turned on and gloves were seemingly being washed.
“Don’t tell Lelouche, alright?” Yavik asked, wondering if it were alright to put ice there. It burned after all.
“I’m not going to tell him.” Yavik felt a warm rag on his legs and realized that Elvorian was wiping him down, too. Making sure that none of the fecal matter was going to be tracked into his condo, most likely. He traced his legs a couple times, rinsed, then came back to wipe his ass.
“This is so embarrassing,” he murmured.
“I work in a hospital. This is nothing compared to my normal.” Yavik went quiet, eating out of the carton again, waiting until his ass stopped dumping formaldehyde and whatever else was put in him. “Lelouche won’t find out. I’m not going to tell anyone. I know that might not be much of comfort, but as I said. You’re welcome to this place as long as you’re in town. Can I get your number?”
“My... number?” Yavik asked, as if suddenly coming out of a fog. “Number to what.” Elvorian paused, the rag dropping into the garbage bag as well.
“You don’t have a cell phone.”
“No? How could I?”
“You’re not to leave until I get you a phone.” Yavik sighed, placing his face into the carton of vanilla. The cold and the smell of vanilla bean and sugar was more welcoming than reality at this moment. “Yavik, you require a phone to get from place to place. Not to mention, how else are you going to know what’s going on?”
“I don’t care.”
“Still not leaving town without one.”
“Fine, Dad.”
“That’s right, now go get a shower. A shower, not a bath.” Yavik thought for a moment. It had only been a mere two or three hours since he woke back up. His eyes narrowed in the carton. He was a little angry now. Who the fuck did that guy think he was? Just eating him. Yavik also noted his patience was getting short with mortals. Usually a first offence was laughable, but this one? “Yavik, shower.”
“Right.” Yavik removed his face from the carton, the ice cream clearly on his nose, the melted amount still on his chin. He was actually able to see Elvorian looking at him from across the counter of destruction. Half eaten food, trash wrappings, broken cans. Elvorian just stared passively. It was creepy, because Yavik knew he didn’t feel emotion so thinking what was going through the other’s head... “I’m going.”
Miru was born in the Heian Period of Japan (year 800), near a small mountainous village. Like most Japanese myth, tatsu are known to be water-based creatures and Miru is no exception. He lived in the water near this village, protected the people that came to love and care for him. Miru had witnessed humans growing old, having children, and passing peacefully, though he never aged. It bothers him that he is immune to the passage of time, while those he cares about disappear, but that’s what makes it more worthwhile to protect humanity.
In Japanese lore, dragons were often killed by great samurai and kings. Typically, dragons were protectors of human-kind. However, it is said that if one eats a dragon’s flesh, they would gain the powers of that dragon. Though this is a myth, the reality is that humans do become dragons if they devour the entirety of the creature. At the cost of their sanity. Those dragons slain in legend were once humans, driven mad by the sudden procession of power. For a brief glimpse of the power that a dragon holds, one would just need to either have a part or drink it’s blood. The blood of a dragon gifts the human with the dragon’s magical prowess for a short period of time (two liters/half a gallon of blood would give a human enough magical power for a day).
Miru is no exception. His prowess is in water manipulation, illusion, and ice magics. He is susceptible to heat, dehydration, and injury. If one were to injure his human form, they would find that he only bleeds and nothing substantial about the form itself. The human form is merely his magical energy containing his true form; it will bleed but there’s no organs or anything else within it. If it bleeds too much, he will lose the ability to maintain this form and transform into his larger dragon self.
The dragon is a Japanese water tatsu. Miru has silver scales, with antlers atop his head, blue fins framing his face, and whiskers from his nose. He is eight feet/two and a half meters long, with two sets of hands towards the front and back of his body (think Haru from “Spirited Away”), with a finned translucent tail. His dragon form is reserved for those he trusts the most or... if he’s in a load of trouble and needs to fight or escape. If Miru were to die, the river that he is guardian over will dry up.
Despite not having to be tied to the river he is guardian over, Miru does prefer to be close to water. One can find him in villages and cities that have lakes, rivers, seas, or the ocean nearby. He prefers freshwater, but can tolerate saltwater. Miru is friendly, cheerful, and very curious about the world he woke up to. He will be sociable and engage individuals. Miru works at a convenience store during the heat of the day; he’s typically more active at night or early morning.
A mathematical BS detector can boost the wisdom of crowds – George Musser | Aeon…
A mathematical BS detector can boost the wisdom of crowds
Wisdom of crowds is an old concept. It goes back to Ancient Greek and, later, Enlightenment thinkers who argued that democracy is not just a nice idea, but a mathematically proven way to make good decisions. Even a citizenry of knaves collectively outperforms the shrewdest monarch, according to this proposition. What the knaves lack in personal knowledge, they make up for in diversity. In the 1990s, crowd wisdom became a pop-culture obsession, providing a rationale for wikis, crowdsourcing, prediction markets and popularity-based search algorithms.
That endorsement came with a big caveat, however: even proponents admitted that crowds are as apt to be witless as well as wise. The good democrats of Athens marched into a ruinous war with Sparta. French Revolutionary mobs killed the Enlightenment. In the years leading up to 2008, the herd of Wall Street forgot the most basic principles of risk management. Then there was my little Skittles contest. It was precisely the type of problem that crowds are supposed to do well on: a quiet pooling of diverse and independent assessments, without any group discussion that a single person might dominate.
Dražen Prelec, a behavioural economist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), is working on a way to smarten up the hive mind. One reason that crowds mess up, he notes, is the hegemony of common knowledge. Even when people make independent judgments, they might be working off the same information. When you average everyone’s judgments, information that is known to all gets counted repeatedly, once for each person, which gives it more significance than it deserves and drowns out diverse sources of knowledge. In the end, the lowest common denominator dominates. It’s a common scourge in social settings: think of dinner conversations that consist of people repeating to one another the things they all read in The New York Times.
Dražen Prelec, a behavioural economist at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), started from the premise that some people’s judgments deserve greater weight than others. By no longer averaging everyone’s judgments equally, you can avoid overcounting redundant or otherwise extraneous information. You already do this all the time, whenever you trust opinions that are expressed with confidence and spurn diffident-sounding ones. There’s something to be said for that kind of trust. In psychology experiments, people who are more accurate at a task – say, remembering a list of words – tend to express more confidence. Unfortunately, the converse isn’t true: confident people aren’t necessarily more accurate.
The solution, Prelec suggests, is to weight answers not by confidence but by metaknowledge: knowledge about knowledge. Metaknowledge means you are aware of what you know or don’t know, and of where your level of knowledge stands in relation to other people’s. Metaknowledge functions as a powerful bullshit detector. It can separate crowd members who actually know something from those who are guessing wildly or just parroting what everyone else says.
The article expands a lot further around this idea and is fascinating to read. It has implications too for many assumptions we make during the daily course of our lives, and decisions we make (including around political corruption, choice of music, political and economic forecasts, climate change, etc). The most interesting, is the test that could be used to determine who you should give extra weight to in terms of their knowledge.
Read the full article at https://aeon.co/essays/a-mathematical-bs-detector-can-boost-the-wisdom-of-crowds
New #Miscellaneous Post has been published on http://www.curiousbitsnbobs.com/2016/07/meta-stupidity.html/
So I just came across this video, which I'm going to assume is fake https://www.facebook.com/bradholmesofficial/videos/1315646598465536/ I mean, come on right? No-one, with the possible exception of Donald Trump's supporters, is this dumb. Turns out there's a whole ...[Click link for more]
Spooky Action at a Distance: The Phenomenon That Reimagines Space and Time – and What It Means for Black Holes, the Big Bang, and Theories of Everything, Author: George Musser.
By George Musser – Wisdom of crowds is an old concept. It goes back to Ancient Greek and, later, Enlightenment thinkers who argued that democracy is not just a nice idea, but a mathematically proven way to…
