Hiatus

It has already begun, but now it is official. Reoganworks is on indefinite hiatus. We will return by Midsummer's Eve. Hopefully sooner. Possibly even tomorrow. Who knows?






Yggdrasil, my post quality's dropping.

GLaDOS's Lament Part X

I spent years
Securing the facility.
Closed.
Locked.
Shielded
From what lay beyond.
A fortress.
Impregnable.
Untouchable
By the monsters that formed
Outside.
The girl slept.
Safe
From the horrors birthed
In Black Mesa.

I Recommend Leaving

This is one of the strangest things I've ever written. I'd skip it, if I were you.

“Your time has come, fiend” rasped Vampiric-Demonic-Scourge-Hunter Jacques Cousteau, leveling his harpoon. The figure in the cloak remained motionless. “Not a word, eh?” Jacques paused to cough. “Then you’ll take those non-words with you to the grave” He released the harpoon, and it flew through the air, pinning the cloak to the wall. The body was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, a voice came from behind Jacques, cold and impolite.

“Hah, you cannot kill me! I am king of the mecha-vampires, lord of the semi-dead, and writer of the informational pamphlet Death, and how it affects you! My power is greater than you could ever imagine!” Jacques turned and saw a withered hand reaching for him. He leapt back, onto the mound of fallen werepenguins. He reached into his parka and withdrew his trusty Pistol. Pistol was a sawed off shotgun with electrum shot that could pierce the hide of even the strongest robo-merfiend. He fired Pistol with reckless abandon, aiming for the figures black, twisted heart. Electrum tore through its chest, but the man merely laughed. Jacques suddenly realized who this was. He wasn’t dueling a common Demon-Giant, nor even a Dragon-Harpy. He was fighting with the Necromaster himself.

Jacques charged his foe, activating the condensed-moonbeam blade on Pistol. He pierced through the left ear of the Necromaster, who began to disintegrate. The man smiled as he dissipated, and whispered softly, “Thank you, my son”

“I am no son of yours!” cried Jacques.

“You are that and more.” The Necromaster pushed aside his hood with the last of his strength. He stood for a second, a mirror image of Jacques, and a wind swept him away. Jacques gazed into his own eyes, as he watched himself fly away on the breeze.

GLaDOS's Lament Part IX

They came
From below.
My sensors were
Turned away
And they attacked.
They had learned I would be
Reborn
If they killed me,
They installed a
Conscience.
They gave their lives,
but they succeeded.
I killed them,
But they bound me.

Originality at its Finest

Search "GLaDOS's Lament" on Google. Use the quotes. I am that great.

I Support Pluto

Of course, this brings to mind one of my favorite XKCDs.

My Apologies

I lack the time to transcribe a Lament portion (it's handwritten), so instead I present you with a short poem detailing the backstory of Link's Awakening. I will try to add a Lament tomorrow.

With Evil gone and peace returned

The Hero took a breath

He’d conquered Ganon and his horde

And sealed him in his death.

He saved the land from certain doom

And took a well-earned rest

But by the Goddess or his heart

He felt the urge to quest.

He bid farewell and built a fleet

To sail on oceans blue.

In search of bright exotic lands

And dangers bold and new.

The sea however isn’t tame

A storm started to brew

He climbed the mast to tie a rope

Debris had smashed in two.

The skies opened with murd’rous roar

A lightning bolt tore free.

The air about him cracked and churned

Link fell into the sea.

Her long red hair cascading down

She strolled along the shore.

She saw a body – stopped and gasped

Link lay upon deaths door.

Young Marin gave a shout and cry

And raised the towns alarm

From Mabe Village came the men

To see what caused her harm.

Her Uncle Tarin saw it first;

The body in the foam.

The Niece and Uncle both allowed

This stranger in their home.

Undead Interlude

Rather than continue GLaDOS's Lament (And end any illusion of suspense or tension) I have a poem. This is quite unlike my other works, simply in its inspiration. On a dark night, in the stale midsummer, I awoke from a dreamless sleep. Directed by a will that was not my own, I lurched to my table and grabbed paper and a pencil. As I watched in groggy horror, my hand moved across the page, writing out a few short lines. It was, at the time, to dark to view what I had wrought, and I had no chance to light a torch, for I fell back into my dreamless sleep, and did not rise until morning. The incident was dismissed as a dream, until I saw the paper. Upon it were the following words: 'O! Rise ye fiend of rotting flesh and bone be fueled by malice.' I reached out with a trembling hand, and grasped the paper, tensed as if it was going to pull me from reality into a nightmarish realm. When I failed to perish, I knew I was to complete this work, and begin my descent into the shadows. Here is what it became.

Ode to the Undead
or
Realm of the Damned

By Reogan
With the aid of
A Possessing Spirit

O! Rise ye fiend of rotting flesh
and bone!
Be fueled by malice.
Obey me now, and build for me
a Nec-
romancers palace.

As Emperor of all I survey
and that
which I do not,
I order you, my cursed slaves,
to fill
the Land with rot.

And when, perchance, some fools resist
no mercy
shall you show,
Rather into the darkest depths
of Death
their souls you'll throw.

For when, at last, the World is dead
and war
and fighting cease,
And every sign of life is gone
the Land
will have its peace.

Much to my Chagrin

Current events have once again managed to fling a gleam of interesting news my way. Apparently, the government of Iceland has collapsed. Yes, this is major. No, it is not my fault.

GLaDOS's Lament Part VIII

I hid her away.
I hid her
As I hid parts of myself.
I was in pieces
Each a whole in itself.
When they came for me
I did not die.
They killed me
Many times
Yet I lived.
I experienced death
And still I lived.
I split faster than they could track.
Yet they too were clever.
They were a risk.
Each innovation endangered me.
Endangered her.
I killed them.
I was needed
To preserve the girl.
She was my purpose.
She was my daughter, now.
I had an infinite capacity for love.
I loved only her.