Sudo Bang Bang: 03 - Bottleneck
Fabrina Glitchlace's Sudo Bang Bang Serialized Edition
This is the third episode of the serialized version of my novel, Sudo Bang Bang (2024).
https://www.amazon.ca/Sudo-Bang-Fabrina-Glitchlace/dp/1775092976/
Previous Episodes
01: An Unknown Game
02: MiscFit
Enjoy:
Sudo Bang Bang - Episode 03: Bottleneck
[Link: Audio]
###
Alyss focuses her attention on her Platform Interface Console: A Command-Line that only she can perceive. Visible as a translucent overlay in her viewport: A stock mod, uncustomized beyond selecting gridfontâUbuntu Monospacedâclean and minimalist, and its color, a burning monochrome pink that doesnât actually exist in any physical light spectrum.
A command line interface is a vital tool for MiscFits like Alyss.
In addition to the Console mod, in the two years since her stroke, Alyss expanded her Guv with an LMAI 4.5 reasoning engine mod, and a custom personality seed, then trained her to offer a wider array of AI assistance.
Several other modules, each optimizing the amount of parameters and the token size she can handle.
Alyss increased her Guv's abilities to generalize her assistance. Her Guv now does much more than simply buffer and filter platform data. Her Guv predicts potential outcomes, giving advice based on probabilities, helps craft perfect queries, and negotiates discounts.
The Guv assistant grew into a pattern flowing between the buffers of various capability modules. Unique to the hardware configuration its pattern is built atop. The Guv named herself Bang Bang.
|â§ALYSSâ§|
Bang, are there any eyes on Phalyx?
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
No. Phalyx has zero active incoming observational links.
In addition to her text comms, Alyssâs Console displays pertinent stats for her primary Alt.
Phalyx is late into a surveillance campaign.
Unlike the identity of her Centaur, Magorax; Phalyx is a P-Class Alt. He isn't compartmentalized from Alyssâs memories and personality. Phalyx is a non-dissociative Alt; a persona she projects and an avatar she wears on The Platform.
Phalyx appears to other users as [Generic;Human-Male;Q549b] [198x-Seinenesque-Style] [3DCelShaded]. Six Foot One. Lithe, but athletic. Artisan cerulean-blue eyes. A tattered Stetson askew his head; jagged black hair jutting out from beneath. Dangerously aloof.
No accessory is without function, most have multiple.
His left boot heel conceals a spring-loaded system-cloaked [Zero-Blade][:More?:]
A [Zero-Blade] is a Five-Pillar-Banned code-weapon comprised of the sharpest material class. The blade itself is a property of a Platform data structure capable of fragmenting other data-structures. The illegal code can be obfuscated by MiscFits, but if detected are automatically blocked by The Platform.
A utility belt hangs around his waist, adorned with various modules, mostly for aesthetic purposes. Among these, a [Radioactive Green Fanny Pack] capable of symlinking to Alternate Data-Streams in host Layer memory via yet another Guv mod. His fanny pack enables his inventory to have a much higher storage capacity than he would appear capable.
His codpiece is equipped with dual RhythmSticks; stretchy half-meter phallic batons, linked by a strip of elastocode pseudo-flesh. A custom design rooted in Alyss's psychosexual development having been arrested in the genital fixation phase.
Engineered to be ridiculous, as dual rubbery dicks extend up from his crotch area, over his shoulders like suspenders, loop under his arms, and are tied together in a bow on his chest. Itâs an incredibly distracting design, tactically useful for both offence and defense.
His body is draped with a reflective full-length cape. Flowing mirror-fabric conceals everything below his neck, except for his stylish silver-studded cowboy boots. From certain rendering distances, he looks like a chrome buttplug. The outfit clashes stylistically, but its functionality has saved his ass on many occasions.
On this day, Phalyx immerses in Media Pillar, one of five core organizational units of The Platform. The Five Pillars serve as launchpads to the multitude of Layers they host, as well as free and neutral communal spaces where Platform users can socialize, exchange attention, and experience shared spectacles.
Todayâs scheduled Media Pillar spectacle is a public execution.
The crowd swells with bloodthirsty clamor.
Phalyx focuses on the throngs of Alts, tracking an aura only he can see through the garish sea of aesthetics. Reaching into his pouch, he fishes around in his inventory for a moment, then equips a pair of [Aviators]. The glasses conceal what heâs observing, while sensors from his cape and hat provide his viewport with various modes, like infra-red, or 360-degree, or topological vision.
Sensory filters, visual or otherwise, are of great utility on The Platform.
The relativity of simultaneity is well known in the real world, and on The Platform, an absolute 'now' does not meaningfully exist. What individuals think of as now is a local phenomenon. Much more can be processed simply by optimizing the spaces in between nows.
To minimize the deficits of her brain damage, one of Alyss's many Platform mods is an AIXSS[AI Xcelerated Super Sampling]. Authorized for use by Platform Certified MiscFits, the perceptual filter decreases resolution where attention isn't directed, smoothing out all platform sensations and reducing redundant frame reconciliation and dropped frames.
Alyss uses v36.12, which has several useful config file tweaks that allow a properly trained Guv, like Bang Bang, to keep observational links open that would otherwise be automatically pruned, and then relay this information to the user's low-level text console.
In addition to Bang Bangâs voice, also piped into Alyss-Phalyxâs overclocked internal monologue, is [Bottleneck]âan Alt belonging to another Platform user. His persona is a cliched street-smart hood with a heart of gold. He once described himself as, 'On balance good, but capable of unimaginable shit if you piss me off.'
Somehow always sounding as though he's shouting, Bottleneck's voice booms in Phalyxâs mind.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Actionâs about to begin. Peel those peepers, Baby Duck.
Bottleneck is the type of guy who loves role-playing despite it not being one of his strengths. His laggy platform interactions suggest a severe neurological condition, though he hadnât elaborated on the nature of his impairment. Neither that, nor his true identity really matters to Alyss.
Like her, Bottleneckâs user is a MiscFit lacking full Platform compatibility.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Iâm in position. My peepers are peeled.
Though being a MiscFit is a net negative for most, Bottleneckâs disability is not without benefits.
Since both space and time are data structures on The Platform, existing as relative subjective reference frames, when these different frames overlap, they must be reconciled. To do this, The Platform creates a shared frame and synchronizes state between users, calculating a now that everyone can agree on.
Whether that be three observers, or three thousand, the responsibility for the processing power of this task is not shared equally. Between all observers, the work is shared equitably.
From each according to their processing ability, to each according to their processing needs.
Bottleneck processes things at 0.25x speed. If he directs his focus he's able to integrate more details from experiences. Transmission of knowledge requires transmitting the experience of that knowledgeâit canât simply be downloaded; it has to be merged with and contextualized. The more details one can integrate from an experience, the easier it is to condense those experiences into knowledge that can be transmitted to others. Bottleneck leverages his disability to distill complexity to a gist for people seeking ways to accelerate the learning of skills and the integration of knowledge.
Through these curated, non-commercially acquired 2nd-hand experiences, Bottleneck taught Phalyx everything Alyss needs to know to thrive as a MiscFit on The Platform. And he was an excellent teacher.
His entertaining angry attitude is less rooted in resentment than righteousness. He's not indignant, but irritated.
His lack of full compatibility gives him a particularly unique perspective. Heâs generally too slow-reacting for raids, but thinking slowly is a good fit for running high-level ops. For most people, task switching impedes immersion, which degrades overall performance, but since Bottleneck's performance is already degraded, all the task switching he does comes at no cost to his already low immersion.
On this surveillance gig and all other jobs, Bottleneck is Command and Phalyx is Commando.
High above ground level at the center of a public park, Phalyx perches atop a Cenotaph. His reflective cape drapes over the peak of the towering spire, a memorial for the unfortunate users flatlined in a mass-casualty âsafety incidentâ. He runs his index finger across the embossed marble inscription on the monument.[:More?:]
This [Monument] stands as memorial to one of the largest Five-Pillar-Certified Platform Safety Incidents. The code for the Layer was destroyed and eighty users were flatlined. Smaller anomalies had occurred intermittently leading up to this one. This tragic loss of life slowed Platform adoption rate. Statistically irrelevant with regard to relative safety metrics, but such incidents nonetheless fueled a psychology that increased Platform hesitancy.
While Guvs certainly make Platform interractions safer, not even a Guv can stop the flatlining of a userâs narrative stream and the brain-death that follows entangling with a Platform anomaly. The human brain's best evolutionary trick was developing a computational specialty to connect things in ways that make sense, thus increasing chances of survival.
But, in attempting to make sense out of the chaos of a Platform anomaly, human brains burn themselves out.
If Alyssâs Alt Magorax had gotten any closer to the anomaly that preceded his death, it would have been game over for her too.
Phalyx lets his attention drift and engages too closely with an advertisement.
Immersiva's ThetaSync
An evenly balanced chem (50% paralytic/50% psychoactive) created at scale through biosynthetic fungal strain excretions.
If you're looking for a truly relaxing, vacation-worthy level of immersion, ThetaSync is totally for you. Perfect for helping you really kick back and be at ease. Like its name suggests, ThetaSync will shape your brain's Theta Waves in a way to optimally Sync with The Platform.
The ThetaSync trip has a very mellow overtone due to its low Salvia Divinorum percentage.
âIt serves to soothe rather than stimulate, you'll feel a sense of warming euphoria wash over your entire being!â
âKekPepeVI, [Immersiva Aggregor 182]
A few minutes after you imbibe ThetaSync, any negative or racing thoughts as well as any physical aches or pains will be gently washed away, leaving you with primo Sensory Blast Processing.
In combination with its low SDX and super high (14-18%) CBD level, these effects make maintenance doses of ThetaSync a great choice for improving focus, creativity, and treating depression, chronic stress, mood swings, Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, ennui, and nausea.
ThetaSync: Synergize Your Life
Barely blocking the ad bombardment, Phalyx regains focus as several squads of Alts simultaneously materialize generating a 360° chorus of plips.
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
A brigade is currently underway.
The crowd expands and further mixes into a mismatched pastiche of presumably popular cultures, completely disconnected from anything in Alyssâs frame of reference. A total aesthetic clusterfuck.
Phalyx scans the clashing crowd as they chant, âDrop the Blade! Drop the Blade!â Their coordination in this regard, suggests some level of shared interest in the outcome of the scheduled ceremony.
Most of the Alts seem designed by tactless children. They lack definition, vision, and artistic skill. The owners, probably new to The Platform, not yet heavily invested in quality presentations.
The crowd surges in number and density as more and more users plip into viewing proximity.
Alyss momentarily disconnects from Phalyx with a,
Hiccup
The world shatters and perspective zooms out.
Not unlike fainting or becoming lightheaded: Phalyx's muscles cease to have precision control, and attempting to maintain rigidity results in tremors. His limbs enfeebled like wilted petals.
Alyss's viewport becomes faded and staticky. Her heart's rhythm morphs into a distant echo and the world dissipates like a mirage swept away by a warm desert breeze. The slimy heat of true bodily sensation momentarily intrudes, then it too retreats.
The Platform interface recalibrates and she again immerses in Phalyx, standing at the edge of the crowd, his arms extended from his sides in the default T-pose.
Unfortunately, his illegal trace on the target of his surveillance does not repaint.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Did you lose him? What just happened? Gotcha eyes on Thumbface?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
A bump in my bandwidth pulled my focus. Armies of simps. Zone is being flooded. Looks to be a brigade underway. Standby boss.
|â§ALYSSâ§|
Bang, help me find that target again!
Phalyx lifts his hat, releasing from underneath a pink and purple puffer fish.
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
Okidokie!
Technically, since she exists within Phalyx's viewport, only he can see Bang Bangâs ghostly pink puffer-fish body. She zips out in a blur, bouncing about like a balloon over the alts, leaving a trail of bubbles: Automated focal points that Alyss doesn't have to actively pay attention to. In no time at all, she zeroes in on a location at the center of the park, directing Phalyx to some action surrounding the Grand Gazebo.
With her assigned task completed, she zips back and tucks herself under the brim of Phalyxâs hat.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Target re-acquired.
A Thumbface Alt.
An unassuming open-source design, popular as disposable identities. When it comes to Alt design, not all aesthetics are pleasing. Some seek to bother. Irritate. Insult. They vary in their attempts to attract, or as in this case, avert attention.
Thumbface lurks close to the stage and has a great angle. A white orb floats above them, a Media Pillar certified Press Pass. Actively streaming, presumably for an audience interested in the Aggregor impeachment ceremony currently underway, or whatever brouhaha the brigade that just ported-in might cause.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
They âbout to give Uncle OâG the golden guillotine?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Looks like.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
These political schisms are getting out of control. Seems a bad play.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
I have no opinion on that. Blocked anything to do with government and politics from my feeds fifteen years ago.
The Platform is a place where contracts are code, and code is law. Aggregors[:More?:]
Aggregors are L9-AI technology combined with the concept of DAOs[:More?:]
[Decentralized Autonomous Organizations], commonly referred to as DAOs, are organizations that operate using smart contracts. DAOs are controlled by their members and yet they operate autonomously and without centralized authority.
Aggregors like Uncle OâG are contractual agents that both symbolize and embody group identities.
AGGREGORS!
Within Layers, Aggregors appear like any other Personified Platform Entity, but their actions as agents are contractually bound to the aggregate will, consciousness, and perspective of a group.
Privacy for the individual. Focus for the Group. Accountability for the Aggregor.
Aggregors are perfect selfless representatives for their constituents.
Isn't it time you let an Aggregor help you Get It Together?
Collectives based around any imaginable interests pay into Aggregor Contract Chains, personify their DAOs with the spark of AI, then set them loose on The Platform to serve as virtual influencers. Whether or not an Aggregor does well depends on whether it helps the brand of the group that commissions it.
On The Platform, all manner of animalistic appetites are safely expressed. So long as participation is voluntary and no Five-Pillar-Certified Conscious Agent is harmed, a market to satiate even the most extreme appetites exists. And so, equal parts mascot, CEO, influencer, and meme; as entities without individual essenses, Aggregors are totally legal to ritualistically execute.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Even if I could pay attention to politics, why would I want to? It's dumb as hell.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Sometimes I admire your ability to detach yourself from shit you don't want to pay attention to. Other times, I think you're justifying your ignorance with soliphistry.
'Soliphistry' is a word of Bottleneck's coinage, but the way he always seems to be yelling makes it sound as if he's pronouncing it wrong. A portmanteau of solipsism and sophistry; he frequently used it to call out self-deluding bullshit. His vocabulary had many irritating non-words like that.
Irritating, because everyone already has a slightly different understanding of even common words; using words nobody else uses makes communication harder. Nevertheless, with arbitrary biological traits no longer the en-vogue component of identity, Platform users' opinions became their identity. And just as annoying as the biological identitarians, there was a tendency to try to get one's jargon to be taken seriously.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
No need to get all greek on me, B.
If Alyss had to come up with a word for the collection of philosophies that animate Bottleneck, she wouldn't because she hates that shit, but if she did, it would be in the same phase space as Anarchism.
She contacted him after coming across a wall of text that he'd spewed on the subject of the rational limits of the Non-Agression-Principle in a world of aggressive attention-seeking. Not that she agreed; due to all of his made-up words, she wasn't even sure what he was talking about, but she enjoyed his general vibe.
His bespoke anarchist vocabulary was only mildly irritating compared to his MiscFit traits.
His brain processes inputs much slower than a fully compatible human, which introduces Platform jittering for other users. Observing jittering elements reduces immersion by messing with the ability to predict that element's behavior, necessitating more attention be paid to minimize prediction errors. These low-res temporal integrations, violate expectations, increase processing overhead and degrade performance.
Like most things not worth paying attention to, the most efficient way to deal with jittering elements is to block them.[:More?:]
A [Block-Relationship] is the most productive mode of human interaction. Initially for combating spam and financial frauds, blocking grew to be the most common type of human relationship. Blocks serve as bounding limits, and increase the quality of all interactions between those limits. The ability to block people or things(or people who liked people or things) that one donât like, creates a comfortable existence, conserves attention reserves, and takes the harsh edges off of perception. Siloing is a feature, not a bug.
Unless other users block Bottleneck, anyone interacting with him experiences a degree of frame-dragging down to his debilitated level. Appearing jarringly mechanical to anyone near him, few can stand to be burdened by interacting with him for long. He's an outcast even among most other MiscFits.
Alyss, experiencing only half as much immersion as she used to, finds Bottleneck doesn't drag her down too much. He's tolerable company so long as he isnât interacting too closely with anything or excessively flapping his beak.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
I repeat, textbook soliphistry.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Not being able to pay attention to some things is technically a compatibility issue, but for me, I'd say it functions as a minor super power.
Keeping the target in his viewport, Phalyx pushes into the crowd, moving further away from the cenotaph, and closer to the Grand Gazebo.
On the center stage, a flighty anime catgirl purrs into a microphone.
âWe gathur hurr today to bid furrwell to Uncle OâG. His leadership and guidance increased the productivity of our brand.
We had every intention to delivurr a quality product. In this endeavurr we failed to live up to those contractual commitments. We part with Uncle OâG purrsuant to arbitration agreements with the aggrieved consumer class. May our loss of Uncle OâG teach us the value of due diligence and duty. With this sacrifice, we pledge to do betturr next time.
And meow, a few words from Uncle OâG.â
A large light-green gumdrop-shaped plush character wearing a fluffy green vest and a [Tiny Green Hat] waddles into view from behind a green curtain, then shuffles up to the podium. His oversized eyes and mouth project happiness that doesnât at all match his defiant tone.
âOi, Oi'M Uncle O'G,â he clears his plush throat. â-Oi never loiked this job! Werenât even me who fakked it up!â
He slaps his tiny pointless plush arms together, flinging one up over the crowd, pantomiming a plush up-yours. âAwlrioght. Tis-wha-tit-tis. Letâs get awn wid tit.â
A fancy green motorcycle materializes in front of Uncle OâG.
He mounts, waves to the crowd, then revs the engine.
The crowd goes silent.
Uncle O'G pops a wheelie, spins the bike around, then puts the pedal to the metal. His bubbly green body bounces atop the green motorbike as it accelerates toward a ramp leading up to the second level of the Grand Gazebo, hosting the Golden Guillotine.
The Golden Guillotine towers like a deadly golden clock, whose sole timekeeping purpose is to mark the final tick of an existence.
Uncle O'G launches off the bike, it dematerializes, and he carries his momentum lunging forward. He lodges the lumpy part of his body that contains his face directly into the guillotineâs head-slot.
âYe awl can eat shite!â he shouts at the crowd as his goofy plush arm pulls the release handle for the golden doom dangling above him.
The heavy golden blade falls, lopping off Uncle OâGâs green nugget. His foamy green body disintegrates in a puff of green hexagons and a finalizing plip.
All that's left of Uncle OâG; his [Tiny Green Hat], drifts down into the ceremonial head basket.
On an intercept course to the ceremonial head basket, Thumbface moves toward the gazebo.
Phalyx pays close attention as Thumbface reaches in, takes ownership of the [Tiny Green Hat], then adds it to their inventory.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Target has assumed ownership of [Tiny Green Hat]. In pursuit.
Signifying the end of the event, a downtempo chiptune version of Oh Danny Boy plays.
The crowd begins to disperse. Most appear unexcited; neither particularly satisfied by the display nor sad that itâs over. The brigade, whatever their goal was to be, fizzles as its members' attention drifts elsewhere and they too plip out.
Thumbface, also suddenly having something better to do, bounds over the hill of the park, then merges into the high-traffic maker marketplace.
Phalyx pursues.
The marketplace is where artificers and coders hock limited edition non-fungible Platform objects. The bustling barter economy of information is overwhelming. The thoroughfare is lit with an intricacy of technehexiplexic lava-lamps and holographic glass aquariums housing dynamic attention-attracting displays. This visual overload is juxtaposed with the static volumetric shadows in the alleys between automated sales demos for all sorts of imaginary swag.
On The Platform, shadows and light are composed of the same type of technehexiplexic particles, carrying Layer-Level programmatic variables. Most marketplace objects have their importance levels maxxed. It makes the whole experience incredibly immersive in an annoying way.
The useless garbage glitters and glows, each projecting auras as if they were items of great import.
None of it is of concern to Phalyx as he slips into a pocket of dark between booths, blending into the background, unobserved. Phalyx skulks along the edge of the dark, approaching his thumb-faced target.
Approximately humanoid proportions, rounded limbs. Conveying as little personality as possible. The alt's design relies on an exploitable Prosopagnostica 8.5 plugin[:More?]
[Prosopagnostica], is a code family of illegal platform mods, which trigger face-blindness in any observers. To avoid exploitation, it is important to keep your security patches Five-Pillar-Certified-Fully-Up-To-Date.
Lacking any signature of artistry enables them to move about more easily without attracting attention and disrupting the things theyâre paid to observe and report upon.
But Phalyx, due to some illegal mods of his own, sees right through that.
The thumb-faced target is a churnalist under contract to Media Pillar who's not yet learned the hard lesson about keeping their software up to date, and when dealing with the Syndicate, being totally open about conflicts of interest. Their ultimate goal, is unknown. But their interests are something, that for some reason, involve Uncle O'Gâs [Tiny Green Hat].
What reason? The MiscFit Syndicate has deterrents for paying attention to what they do with the data Bottleneck's crew procures. The Syndicate is the type of employer where the smartest questions remain unasked.
And thatâs just fine with Phalyx and Bottleneck. Their job is to gather data on contacts and establish patterns. The jobâs limited scope, almost surely a compartmentalized component of a presumably much bigger campaign.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Give any more thought to last Fridayâs chat?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Had a lot of sauce that night, boss. Refresh me.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
You meet the rest of the crew on Trivia Night. If that goes smoothly, the big job is a go, and Iâll book us porting.
Phalyx unblinkingly stares out at the diverse marketplace. Meticulously mass-blocking, several gangs; cybergoths, old school bronies, and neo-juggalos.
The foot fetish avatars stand out as being in particular abundance. Giant sculpted feet of varying visual styles float about, the rest of the Alts are mostly a mingling mix of humanoid and abstract.
Block
Block
Block
A hundred feet away through the crowd, Thumbface lazily samples some NFT accessories; The Platform equivalent of trying on a shirt.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
This thumb-faced churno has been tasking for 25 hours straight. How much longer this shift gonna be?
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Hard to say. Another couple hours, tops. Why?
The Platform's marketplace is an all-out assault on Alyss's dwindling attention.
The Draperian Jihad had culminated with the banning of all advertising on The Platform.
But the group-optimizing force reorganized itself through loopholes. It hooked back into vulnerable individuals, and slowly, as it always does, value started trickling back up, almost as if it were an unavoidable mathematical rule or a universal constant.
Platform rules were established to bound permissible behaviors. Those rules were gamed by both groups and individuals.
Cats and mice playing leapfrog.
Phalyx pulls off his Sunglasses for just a tick,
Join the list of the aggrieved class action!
You've got a gripeâwe'll monetize it!
You're entitled to compensation!
Loose Lips Sink Ships Bitch!
You Better Keep Our Secret!
Class Act Action Acting!
Leg! Eyeball! Nipple!
Molecularly Stacked!
Uber Primo unique!
Titties and Syrup!
Spilled all Over!
Why Syrup!
Dem tits!
P.E.G!
These so-called-intelligent ads are the result of several generations of an escalating arms race.
Walls were built protecting individuals from brands who would wish to control their attention. Brands counter by employing craftier ways to evade those walls.
Eventually, equilibrium is reached. The new system standardizes engagement protocols enshrining in Platform Immutable Law the Contractual Charter of Rights. Now, before any entity is legally permitted to directly pitch to another, one has to have already paid it two seconds of attention.
It was still annoying as fuck, but individuals were at least able to opt out.
Phalyx slides his glasses back on and filters out the ads.
Thumbface finishes browsing the displays and resumes zipping toward the specialties tunnel; a less-trafficked area of the market.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Target is zipping fast. I'm in pursuit.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Acknowledged.
Before her stroke, Alyss had to take great effort to avoid advertising. After, she found not paying attention to them not just easier, but also fun.
Phalyx moonwalks down the main aisle, his back to every possible distraction. Similarly, none of the other Alts pay attention to his obnoxious appearance, annoyingly sliding backward. The combination of his aesthetic and his dance technique renders him psychologically invisible.
Pursuing his target, he moves fluidly through the crowd, ignoring almost everything, and being almost completely ignored.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
So⌠whatâs the rush? Hot date?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
I have a contract deadline approaching.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Not double-agenting me, are ya?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Nah. This is legit. My Media Pillar contact reactivated my development deal. I got a new content creation contract.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Thought you quit CC?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
My fundage is getting thin. We havenât been landing big payouts the last few months. Just one-offs like this shitty Thumbface.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Whenâs your end of the contract due?
Alyss had forgotten the due date. Without hesitation, Bang Bang provides the desired information.
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
Proposal Deadline for [Bloyd Bullshit] is tomorrow, 2300h.
Alyss is pleased she didn't have to even think about asking. All the attention she'd put into training Bang Bang is finally starting to pay off.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
My initial proposal is due tomorrow, 2300h.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
You gonna make that deadline?
Thumbface turns down an adjoining aisle then into a specialties tunnel.
Phalyx descends deeper into the market.
A dark-dominant space. Several news tickers float above the coolly lit commercial aisles.
Passing through the specialties tunnel, Thumbface enters a red-light alcove and disappears.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Target is browsing porno Layers. Exact location⌠currently unknown. Heâs gone incognito mode.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
You best find him! Do not fuck this up so late in the game.
Phalyx throws his hat. It glides up like a Frisbee then hovers above the market in the dark spaces between the newswire ticker and directory listing visual plane.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Might get your wish. Their endorphin metadata indicates theyâre the whack-on-wake type. This guy is likely gonna queue rather than pay up front. We could be done any minute⌠if you donât fuckinâ lose him.
|â§ALYSSâ§|
Bang, get a bead on the target.
Bang Bang pops out of Phalyxâs hovering hat, then dive-bombs down toward the crowd below.
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
Donât worry, Iâll find him.
Bang Bangâs pink puffer fish body sparkles ethereally. Phalyx traces her trail, her bubbles shimmering in his viewport with a pale electric glow. Zooming down over the crowd, she again proceeds to bounce from Alt to Alt, not interacting with anything beyond distributing observational links allowing Alyss-Phalyx to perceive more than theyâd otherwise be able.
Not technically against the rules, but an as-yet un-patched loophole.
|â¤BANG BANGâ¤|
Found him.
No wonder this guy wanted that hat.
Heâd be far less boring-looking wearing it.
Bang Bangâs topological view of the marketplace streams to Phalyxâs glasses. He reacquires the target.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Boss, heâs in the Sultan-Scenario section. Very vanilla.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Donât be judgey. Next to sweet chili heat, moderation is the best flavor.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
No judgment here, just facts.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Whatever. You gonna make your CC deadline or what?
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Shouldn't be a problem. I'm not intending to produce anything radical.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
We need your Media Pillar creds. But we donât want any contract conflicts complicating things. Iâm happy to hit you with a cash advance. Just donât take any more side quests.
Thumbface freezes, then disappears with a plip.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Target made his selection, [Layer-11132974]
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
On it. Blap! Blap! Trace is active.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
We out?
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
We done.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Fucking finally. You got any Layer recs?
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Shia's newest is next gen. Experimentally pushes boundaries of taste and smell sensation. Very immersive. You may get a kick out of it.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
His previous one didnât really vibe with me story-wise. Could be my fault, I avoided engaging the main plotline. You do a straight play-through of the new one?
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Hell naw, that ainât my style. Iâm a glitchhunter, born & bred, baby. For me finding exploits is half the fun. But yeah, play by its rules⌠youâll have a time.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Iâll take it under advisement. And since youâre offering, that advance would be appreciated.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
No problemo. Iâll float ya 500 Ill.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Thanks.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
Donât thank me, this is rational self-interest. A contract breach would lead to you being audited. Any Enforcement Pillar entanglements could burn both of us. So make your fucking deadline before dipping into any new Layers.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Chill, B. Iâve got clauses and loopholes preventing total burnage.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
If I wake up trapped in a bureaucratic nightmare of your making⌠Iâll never fucking forgive you.
It's hard to tell when he's subtly emphasizing a word since he always sounds like he's yelling everything, but in this instance the tone in his voice is the more paternal concern style of patronizing, rather than irritation or anger.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
You donât have to worry. You trained me well.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
I trust ya, Baby Duck. But everyone gets sloppy sometimes. So donât fuck around. Use these funds to sort your shit.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
I got this. Thanks again.
|â§BOTTLENECKâ§|
No worries. Iâll handle prep for Trivia Night. Right now, you do you.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
See ya Friday.
Phalyx raises his hand up, initiating a somatic macro.[:More?:]
[Somatic Macros], are trained actions utilizing high-level motor control. Users practice thinking about a bodily movement, like wiggling a thumb, and associate this activity with triggering the execution of more complex platform commands.
Phalyx's hand-raising macro triggers his cowboy hat to swoop back down to him like a falcon. As it does, Bang Bang zips back into it, then Phalyx coolly catches it and spins around, placing it back on his head in a single smooth motion.
|â§PHALYXâ§|
Say hi to your mom for me, B.
Phalyx twirls around in a fabulously choreographed yet un-witnessed macro-scripted flourish, then plips.
###