Alluveal
Regular
WHAT THE HYBRID WAS SAYING....
Gaius stares at the Hybrid, the pale wet woman from his dream. She sits in a resurrection pool wearing a black snood, like a hearth goddess. Her body fades into ship and connections where she floats; Giger tubes and Craig Morrison rubber. And -- off the Pythia tip -- she says the following.
"Two protons expelled at each coupling site creates the mode of force the embryo becomes a fish that we don't enter until a plate we're here to experience evolve the little toe atrophy don't ask me how I'll be dead in a thousand light years thank you thank you Genesis turns to its source reduction occurs stepwise though the essence is all one end of line. After your system check diagnostic functions within parameters repeats the harlequin the agony exquisite the colors run the path of ashes fifty-two percent of heat exchanger cross-collateralized with hyperdimensional matrix upper senses repair ordered relay to zero, zero, zero, zero..."
Six tells Gaius, "she experiences life very differently than we do, Gaius. She swims in the heavens. Laughs at stars, breathes in cosmic dust. Maybe Leoben's right. Maybe she does see God…...they cry for succor in the dark of the light." Caprica snaps out of it. "We're wasting time."
The Hybrid screams: "…Jump!" She shudders orgasmically, for reasons which should be obvious by now: if projection is weaving memory and thought and personality, jumping is weaving the stuff of the universe itself.
The Hybrid screams in her chamber. "Mists of dreams drip along the nascent echo and love no more end of line. Those mists, the vapor of disparate memories and experiences, black-haired lives, won't ever coalesce back into their reborn rivers, now: Six, Three, Simon, Eight, Leoben, Doral, Cavil. All losing memories and shapes forever, shedding drops of memory and self, becoming less, to love no more. End of line."
Gaius stares at the Hybrid, the pale wet woman from his dream. She sits in a resurrection pool wearing a black snood, like a hearth goddess. Her body fades into ship and connections where she floats; Giger tubes and Craig Morrison rubber. And -- off the Pythia tip -- she says the following.
"Two protons expelled at each coupling site creates the mode of force the embryo becomes a fish that we don't enter until a plate we're here to experience evolve the little toe atrophy don't ask me how I'll be dead in a thousand light years thank you thank you Genesis turns to its source reduction occurs stepwise though the essence is all one end of line. After your system check diagnostic functions within parameters repeats the harlequin the agony exquisite the colors run the path of ashes fifty-two percent of heat exchanger cross-collateralized with hyperdimensional matrix upper senses repair ordered relay to zero, zero, zero, zero..."
Six tells Gaius, "she experiences life very differently than we do, Gaius. She swims in the heavens. Laughs at stars, breathes in cosmic dust. Maybe Leoben's right. Maybe she does see God…...they cry for succor in the dark of the light." Caprica snaps out of it. "We're wasting time."
The Hybrid screams: "…Jump!" She shudders orgasmically, for reasons which should be obvious by now: if projection is weaving memory and thought and personality, jumping is weaving the stuff of the universe itself.
The Hybrid screams in her chamber. "Mists of dreams drip along the nascent echo and love no more end of line. Those mists, the vapor of disparate memories and experiences, black-haired lives, won't ever coalesce back into their reborn rivers, now: Six, Three, Simon, Eight, Leoben, Doral, Cavil. All losing memories and shapes forever, shedding drops of memory and self, becoming less, to love no more. End of line."
