89 lines
3.6 KiB
Markdown
89 lines
3.6 KiB
Markdown
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---
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title: 00060
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created: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:47 -0700
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updated: Tue, 31 Jan 2023 19:11:48 -0700
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public: yes
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syndicated: yes
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---
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### 00060 {#00060}
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> Alex takes inventory of himself, this dream world is definitely
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> strange, but fortunately its decided to provide him with his
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> impecable fashion, trench coat and all. Unfortunately the same can't
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> be said for his roguish good looks, as he's found himself 6 arms
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> heavier, and a bit more octopus-y than he remembers.
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>
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> Nontheless this doesn't appear to be much of an impediment, and he
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> promptly moves on with assessing the situation.
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>
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> "Acorns? No, I don't think so. I'm afraid octopus' are terrible at
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> fetching acrons, and at any rate, I have a dreadfully important
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> meeting across town." turning to address Inky, "We need to make a
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> break for it, what'd the witch tell you? Envision our goal or
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> something? This is really a little outside of my realm of mechanical
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> magic expertise.. unless.."
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>
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> Alex makes a gesture with his tentacles in the area and a terminal
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> prompt appears before him. His tentacles work at blinding speed at
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> the digital window, a quick bypass there, a root access escalation
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> there.
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>
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> "Looks like this whole place runs on Linux, it's an older kernel,
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> about 2.6 or so, but it checks out. Easy to exploit as needed. Here
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> I'm giving us sudo access, should we need it."
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>
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> "Oh and squirrel, here's your acorns"
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>
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> ```
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> find /* -name '*acron*' -exec mv /home/squirrel { } \
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> ```
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It takes Alectopus a couple tries, but he gets it. First he corrects
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'acron' to 'acorn'. Then he moves all the acorns to the *chipmunk*
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instead of to the squirrel.
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Hundreds of acorns appear at the chipmunk's feet. It squeals in
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delight.
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In the distance, far below you, you hear the anguished yell of what
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can only be a Red Squirrel whose giant stash of acorns has just
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vanished.
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The chipmunk rubs its hands together gleefully and starts scooping up
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acorns by the armful and shoving them into its mouth by the dozen.
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"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" it says around a mouthful of
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nuts. "Here..." It tosses you a large square silver coin with a round
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hole drilled in the center. On one side is the number twenty-one next
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to a picture of a curved, short-handled sickle. On the other side is
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the number five and a picture of a flail.
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"A Twenty-One Fiver! Sorry, you deserve more, but it's all I have,"
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it apologizes as it scampers off, no doubt to hide its nuts.
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Hopefully somewhere more secure this time.
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If you hold the coin up to your eye and peer through the hole, you
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see the dreamscape before you as though looking through a cloudy
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film. All the same stuff is there, but it's hazy and shadowy.
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Standing a fair distance from you on the branch, just out of hailing
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distance, is a tall figure cloaked in black robes. Dark shadows pool
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restlessly around its feet. Occasionally the shadows leap up and take
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the form of demons the like of which words cannot describe, before
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falling and returning to shadow once more. The figure wears a large
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spherical helmet of obsidian-like glass. You can see constant flashes
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of a rainbow of colors crackle and splinter along the inside of the
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helmet like lightning, but illuminating nothing within. You feel
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sickened at the sight, but at the edge of your mind you feels a tug,
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a familiarity. Something about this character is familiar to you, but
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you cannot place it.
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When you lower the coin, the figure and the dark landscape both
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disappear. When you raise it again, the distorted landscape reappears
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but the figure is gone.
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You notice a pair of large ravens watching you rather intently from
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the branches below.
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WHAT DO YOU DO
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