Decided to show you all my take on the whole Matoran numerals debate.
A lot of people have pointed out in the past that the 1-9 symbols we have for Matoran numbers appear to show an incomplete pattern, with a repeat on a new inner ring happening on the number 6, which could theoretically be extrapolated out to show the numbers all the way to 11, and then continued on with further inner rings for higher numbers.
This has always been pretty cool, both for the implication that Matoran count in base 6 rather than base 10 (always neat to see different counting systems in sci-fi/fantasy stories) and because it implies that a single symbol can be used for any number, unlike our system which requires multiple for numbers above 9.
The only problem with this though is that it gets really unwieldy, really fast. Getting up to 11-12 is fine. You can just about get up to 17-18 and still have it easily readable, but after that it gets increasingly more difficult to fit everything in and still have the symbol recognisable at a glance. There are number systems that allow for one symbol per number even for much larger ones (I think Cistercian numerals are pretty neat and worth a google) but the inherent design of the Matoran symbols just doesn’t allow for easily readable higher numbers.
That’s why I’m proposing instead of a base 6 system with only one symbol per number, the Matoran might use a base 12 system with increasing digits per multiple of 12. I think this gives us the best of both worlds: we can extrapolate out the repeating symbols hinted at in the canon version, but not to such a degree that the symbols for higher numbers become functionally useless. Plus, as counting systems go, base 12 is actually really useful. It’s highly divisible, whilst still being small enough to have an easy number of individual symbols to memorise (unlike the even more highly divisible base 60).
@binomialtie7087 here's my numbering system :D
people can use the numbering system; i just put a watermark cause i don't want this image itself reposted without credit
Aaaaa! I completely forgot to actually write today's Word of the Week, and I've been planning it all day! I've actually got a good one for y'all today:
Kjá
number
Etymology: I don't have a protolang to show the actual etymology (hopefully I will one day!) but it's cognate with the word kjagg, meaning "pile."
Dozen
I don't know how much I talked about Kolic numbers in the past, but up until today I only had number up to five. ynna, tälla, kaegða, júrða, ikka.
On my commute home today though, I reworked the system a little bit, actually settled on some things that I've been thinking about for a long time, and added some new stuff.
Kolic uses dozenal most the time (though in some situations decimal can be used and the two can even be combined, we might get into that sometime later). So, here are the number from one to a dozen in Kolic:
ynna
tälla
kaegða
júrða
júnna
júlla
jújða
täärða
täärðynna
täärðälla
täärðaegða
kjá
For numbers up to dozen eleven (23), you say [remainder] on dozen. Remember that Kolic doesn't really use adpositions and uses a lot of cases instead, and superessive (meaning "on") is one of them, marked "-na/-nä" (at least until I decide to rework the case markings again).
So a number like fifteen, or in dozenal, dozen three, is kaegða kjána.
As you might have guessed, above that you just say "two dozen," "three dozen" and so on. So for a number like 64 (decimal), which is 54 (dozenal), you'd say júrða júnnana kjään — literally "four on five of dozen."
But let's go back to the list of numbers from one to a dozen. You might have noticed a pattern that repeats after four numbers. It might be kinda subtle in the first repetition (except all of the number beginning the same way), but it gets way more transparent from eight to eleven.
That's right, there's a sub-base of four underneath the base twelve counting system. The words one, two, three, and four are unique, but then five, six, and seven are just blends of four and the remainder. Eight is a blend of two and four, because it is two fours, and nine through eleven are again blends of eight plus the remainder.
I thought of this on the train, when I was struggling to come up with numbers for six and up, and noticed that twelve goes really nicely into three groups of four, and decided to make a sub-base. I really like the way it came out, it gives me this vaguely Finnish-y vibe.
Finally, if I have any time left at all, let's talk VERY briefly about combining bases.
To be perfectly honest, I am kind of slowly losing my justifications for base 10 to coexist with base 12 in the Kolic culture. I mean, it would be a fun way to bring some more chaos and flavour into the language, but I am having trouble coming up with things they'd actually use it for. So this system I am going to describe may actually very well be out of date VERY soon. I'm not even going to use the Kolic words for the numbers, since 10 turned out to be a trisyllabic "täärðälla." But here is the idea behind it:
Basically, due to the way they conceptualise numbers as stacking remainders on larger numbers, they can use any larger number as a base. You might, for example, want two hundred eggs, and then a dozen six on top of that, which makes for six on dozen on two hundred eggs, as opposed to three on six dozen on one gross eggs. Yea no that system doesn't really make much sense, there is no reason anyone would count like this I think, but I still wanted to showcase it to show some of the dead ends I come across.
Oh! And although I already said finally once, here is, finally, for real this time, an example sentence:
Note: This is something I probably should've mentioned in the main body, but. Things that are being counted are always in the genitive-partitive case (in this case functioning as a partitive). The number behaves as an adverb, and if the verb doesn't agree with the counted noun, but instead always with the neuter gender. That's because the subject isn't the counted object (in this instance the flowers) but an expletive "it" that is "hidden," i don't know if that's the correct terminology but it's just. not there. It's omitted.
I like the concept of each of the kids having a number or having a thing where they count off. Not in a demeaning or dehumanizing way at all, just more so to use in dangerous situations. For example, a bomb goes off on patrol, and to quickly see if everyone is okay, the kids (including Steph and Babs) automatically start counting one at a time. Bruce can breathe again once the count reaches eight. This tradition begins to carry over to civilian life when the kids yell numbers across a crowded gala after the power goes out.
Beta Agenthandler
Bruce never planned on starting a family. He made a vow to live for justice. He would be the force Gotham needed. He would be the forever bachelor. Justice was his Lady Love.
But 90% of life’s plan was just that—a plan. Bruce would never have guessed he'd end up taking in a boy who called himself Dick Grayson. Technically his ward, but Bruce suffered a mid-life crisis every day from thereon, wondering whether it was the right choice for him to adopt a kid—or why anyone sane would let Bruce Wayne adopt any kid in the first place. It was a testament to Dick’s own awesomeness that he grew up to be a mostly functional adult—Bruce definitely wasn’t.
After Dick, he recruited an amazing girl named Barbara Gordon as another sidekick. She was not officially his adopted daughter, but by day two of working together Bruce registered her in his little hind brain as “my kid.”
Then another. Jason Todd not only stole the Batmobile’s tires but also Batman’s heart. The little boy taught Bruce more about street-smarts and how to be a better person right until his death. His realized depth of parental love made him wonder why he ever adopted anyone in the first place—and ended up losing them that way.
After what he thought was the last, another one came into his life without invitation. Timothy Drake was a genius detective. Out of his first four—yes, Bruce could still count—Tim was the most similar to Bruce. They had the same kind of upbringing amidst the Gotham Elite, they were both highly focused and detail oriented individuals. Tim was even smarter than Bruce, and he was the sole reason Bruce could continue functioning after Jason’s death. Tim was also the only one to believe he was still alive and brought Bruce back from when he was lost in time.
After Time was Stephanie Brown. A cheerful ray of sunshine that had her own worries, but could function the best out of all his children. She had the kind of light sarcastic humor to brighten up Bruce’s darker days. He gained a third daughter, Cassandra Cain, the most accomplished amongst his children in terms of stealth and combat, also his one darling princess.
Then Bruce was introduced to his—one and only—blood son, a little baby assassin who had the unfortunate tendency to stab first ask later. By this time, Bruce had a better handle on raising children highly susceptible to raising hell and violence (read: still an incompetent parent, but he knew how to tune out their nagging) and had no choice but to assign Dick with Damian’s education on humanities and socialization.
He also had Helena, Terry, Matt, Duke, and Harper.
Bruce lost count.
It was the ultimate testament to Bruce’s parenting skill. He sometimes couldn’t remember how many kids he had. He could lose them in a Walmart and forget he was missing one. But thankfully, he had a secret weapon.
Since Jason, he assigned them all numbers. Dick was one, Barbara was two, Jason three, Timothy four, Stephanie five, Cass six, Damian seven—although he always said he was the first—Duke was eight, Harper nine, Terry ten, Matt eleven, and little Helena was twelve.
Imagine that. Bruce had twelve kids. What was his vow again? Lady Love Justice? Don’t know her.
It became sort of a tradition. When the kids entered the Wayne manor, each of them wrote their number on the info board down in the changing room. They were also listed on a desktop note of the BatComputer. It became a ritual in which the last child would add their newest sibling into the list, so they knew who the next number was supposed to be, and that next child would be who they were responsible for. Well, except Dick who accepted all of them as his baby chicks. The number also became a little part of their identity—each of them would put their numbers on everything they owned from their doors to their batarangs to the containers in the fridge.
Bruce, most importantly, used the numbering system to check in on them. It started when Penguin detonated a bank and his robins were scattered fighting all the hundred thugs Penguin hired to keep Batman busy. The blast stopped the fight and Bruce’s heart dropped when he realized his coms were damaged and he immediately couldn’t keep sight of them. He immediately tried to think what he could do, and when he did, he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“KID COUNT!”
“One!” Nightwing shouted from the top of the next building. Apparently he flew off the bank’s roof when he realised it was going to burst.
Oracle was two but he knew she was safe in the clock tower.
“Three,” Red Hood drawled. Bruce wondered why he joined in, but was thankful nonetheless.
“Four,” Red Robin shouted from the opposite direction, because he was the sensible one who directed the civilians and police to safety.
“Five!” Spoiler laughed and flew to his side. “That was a doozy!”
“Six,” Black Bat said as she appeared beside Spoiler where they shared a hi-five.
“Seven,” Robin pulled out his swords from a thug’s leg. “Father, I need to clean my sword immediately.”
“No stabbing, please.” “Too late.” Bruce groaned.
“...Eight?” Signal. He was still new to the numbering system.
Batman let go a deep relieved sigh.
The police and civilians who were fortunate to witness the scene, collectively said ‘Oh’. It became a trending twitter before Tim deleted the topic as much as he could.
********
The counting continued though. Citizens who have lots of children (such as parents, teachers, sometimes even the Police teams), realised it was a quick method to ensure update of their progeny/students/teams condition. So they The counting became sort of a Gotham Trend and eventually enlisted into Gotham’s Emergency SOP. Imagine that, having too many kids to count gave birth to a crucial disaster first-aid first responder procedure.
In all actually, maybe that was one of the top major contributions Batman has given to his city.
********
The kids themselves slowly embraced the importance and fun of the numbers. It created a sort of camaraderie-- even when the numbers didn’t correlate with their height. It used to be a nice isoquant curve when they stood side by side. But after Jason’s growth spurt and Tim naught growth spurt, Steph finding high heels and Cass love for Anti-flood Boots, the nice isoquant curve just became a jagged line not unlike a heartbeat rate.
That aside, the numbering also slowly bled into their civilian lives:
1.
All of them counted before they entered the GothMart -- Alfred was there too, and suddenly Bruce became number 0. He was there to help Alfred because herding the kids was a massive job.
Dick was back for the weekend to spend time with his “babies” and refused to stay at home, because he wanted to sneak in his grocery list (gummy bears and cereals) into Bruce’s list so he could bring it back to Bludhaven and not spend a dime on it.
Jason was there because Alfred asked him for help--he was the only one out of the brood with cooking talent and generally all responsible in the kitchen, i.e. Alfred could trust Jason to use his kitchen without blowing it up (shoutout to Tim and Duke who blew the kitchen for the fifth time this year).
Barbara stayed at home, watching over their base, but she was ready with her surveillance just in case they lost one of the broods.
Tim was half dragged, because he had spent the last 30 hours awake doing Bruce-knew-what, and only agreed to be dragged with the promise of sweet, abominable GothMart coffee with pink glitter (a cheap imitation of Starbucks, really) because Tim was fabulous especially after thirty hours of no sleep. And the surprisingly awesome coffee was a dollar--what kind of frugal millionaire didn’t appreciate a dollar of drinkable coffee?
Steph was the one who dragged Tim, with the help of Cass who just returned from Hong Kong for the weekend. Steph wanted to buy some new bras for Cass, something cool and sexy she could enjoy immensely. Bruce was not privy in this knowledge.
Damian was there to ensure his embarrassment of siblings didn’t kill themselves or humiliate the family. Wayne was his legacy afterall, and all of them reflected on his legacy, whether he liked it or not. Duke, the only one whom he could tolerate outside Cassandra (Grayson was mother) just poked his cheek and grinned. Duke might be tolerable, but it didn’t mean Damian didn’t want to stab him sometimes (Drake, on the other hand, looked like a nice pincushion to stab his sword into).
They counted 0 to 8 before they entered, orchestrated by Alfred.
When they were ready for the checkout, 4, 5, and 6 were missing. Bruce finally found them at the children section, where Tim was busy defending his virginity from a Superboy Plushie, while Steph convulsed with laughter on the floor and Cass video-ed the entire thing.
Bruce refused to buy the cereals (Dick) / sexy lingerie (nope, nope, nope) / kitchen knife collection in black (Damian, as they didn’t need another stabby collection). But Bruce ended up buying the superboy plushie because it had been tainted (the store manager glared at him the whole check out time). At least Tim looked ashamed enough when he was handed the superboy plushie.
2.
The gala was in full swing, full of important people and not-so important moochies. Bruce was entertaining a group of usual donors (important and fun people!) while he saw Tim seriously discussing the stock exchange trends with several old, serious men. Dick was charming the usual group of ladies and young men, while Cass seemed to be hiding behind the potted plan.
Then, just like usual in Gotham, the lights went off. The room suddenly became dark and people started to scream.
“KID COUNT!” Bruce shouted. “Zero,” he added because of habit.
“One!” “Three!” “Four!” “Five and Six!” “Seven.” “Eight” “Nine.”
Wait, did he bring Harper with him? Harper was allergic to this kind of gala--and that was why he never fully adopted her into his Wayne name.
