Pip's Hellsborough Diary
Welcome to my journal. Here you will find diarised entries of my field notes and research when I spend time in Hellsborough. I write diary entries frequently, but if I haven't for a while, I'm either not in Hellsborough, my work in the off-world has had to take prescendence, or something tragic has happened.
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Pinned Diary Entry Collections:
- Stranger in a Strange Land
- The Origin of Semagrams & the First Crossing of The Hinge
- The Seven Guardians of The Hinge
The gloaming comes quick at this time of year, but I think it is my favourite time of year for experiencing it. During the Windstrom, it comes on all too quickly, before you even notice. It this time of year, just around the vernal equinox, the gloaming takes a little longer before it turns into full on murknight, it lasts for many moments, and that allows the creatures of the gloaming to make more of a presence, they flit and float about and you'll hear their growls and grunts as they make the most out of the final glimpses of the murklight. It is at this time of year that the magic of The Dark Peak is at its greatest natural strength, now is the time to practise spells and mysticism, if only I knew some -- yet I do have access (and copies) of the milting's semagrams -- the ones that I don't know what they do, not just the one that opens The hinge. Now is the time of year to be reciting those incantations. Why do I feel that now? or why do I know that? call it intuition. I'm going out to feel the gloaming now. The screetch-chatter of a pied corvid -- raptors of The Dark Peak, the laughter of a scrufftail as it raids a nest of ashpeeps, the coo of rooterwings, the hoot of the flatface, the yelp of barkers and the odd slyfluff, the flitter-flutter of the backflit.
Was out and about with Shad and the murk was heavy. I struggled to see more than a couple of feet ahead of us. So it kind of came as no real surprise when I found myself penned in by barbed wire -- as soon as I realised my mistake, I knew where I had made it: Instead of turning right after crossing a stile, a turned right before it, and straight into a farmer's field -- several minutes later, I came up against the aforementioned barbed wire. Seeing no way out that didn't involve potentially damaging myself or Shad, I about turned and started to retrace my steps. That was when I heard the yapping and yelping of barkers, and started to quicken my step. But I was caught up by the owner of the field, who had somehow managed to spot me and ploughed his gruizer across the field to intercept my path. I was wondering if I was about to see the wrong end of a fungun, but instead, he jumped out of his vehicle, and, after establishing that I had clearly made a mistake, and was simple retracing my steps, held me in conversation for twenty minutes or more. The guy was a simple fellow -- and a rarity out here in The Dark Peak, where many humans no longer care to tread, never mind live. He lived a simple life, he said, tending to his demonspawn and wooltard, growing cabs and other vegetables, making a living selling his produce to the nascenti, who in turn process it into biofeed for the pop. He invited us into his humble dwelling, and I was at first hesitant, but after he had explained -- in this very broad accent, far far broader than even Van's -- that he saw few folk and he would welcome a little company, I relented and in his sparse kitchen we drank warm fresh demonspawn milk and he warmed up some salted wooltard shank, which was delicious. He didn't keep me beyond me welcome, and after half and hour or so I was back on the road again heading for the banks of the Loxley. I didn't get the guys name, but I have a distinct feeling that out paths will cross again.
I spend about 50/50 of my time between Hellsborough and The Dark Peak and the off-world -- the place that you likely reside, what you'd think of as Planet Earth, the real world, where you live.
In the off-world, there is lots of talk about AI -- Artificial Intelligence -- ChatGPT and Big Blue all that sort of thing. Clever stuff init? Well maybe you think so. Over here in Hellsborough, it is mere child's play.
You have social media. This side of The hinge we have the hive mind, it's pretty much the same thing, but it is immersive, it goes straight into your brain via your eyes and ears. I have to wear a physical psycmask when I'm here, otherwise I can't breath, but everyone here these days has their psycmask nano-implanted at birth -- and those devices determine your ability to do many things: If you’ve got no chits, then you don't "see" what's on the shelves of the supermarket -- you only see what you can afford. That stops a lot of alcoholism and the like, and wanton spending. The nascenti are nothing if not clever and powerful overlords, not that you'll ever see one of them (if you wear a psycmask).
Then there is the organic network. Think of that as being like your CCTV. The organic network sees everything, especially out in The Dark Peak. In Hellsborough, it being a build up area, the organic network is much less effective, but it still exists, and folk are still wary to step outside of the law. Drop a sweet wrapper or leave your barker’s smelt on the footpath, and you could be spotted and charged chits -- and you don't want to run out if chits -- doing that will put you on the radar on the exacids, and you really don't want to be on their The-fungal-ai, or fungai, take its input from both the hivemind and the organic network. This is where your off-world AI starts to look really lame, and when I read an article, it really made me think about the difference.
The Dark Peak has an advanced Artificial Intelligence, which is also quantum based. But more than that, it's not some artificial quantum simulation like you have in the off-world. In The Dark Peak, or more accurately, the entirity of The Dark Peak, is a quantum computer. But it is far more than that, it is an organic quantum computer built upon the mycelium of fungi that communicates with every living entity in the land mass. This is not just quantum computing, this is not just Artificial Intelligence, this is quantum-organic computing –- there is a word for it: Quantanic (some call it quorgantum) computing (the official definition is yet to be decided). It is the most general artificial intelligence you have ever come across -- entirely carbon based, and fully sentient.
It runs the humidity plants, and will protect against anything that tries to cause it -- or The Dark Peak -- harm, but mostly -- get this: It may sound dystopian, but it's actually fine — or maybe I am just becoming far too accustomed to living here?
Grab a copy of the curated guide for a more in-depth investigation into what I understand about this technology.
I was out in the greater Wisewood today, not far from the banks of the Loxley river, a part that I call the copse of mystic beasts -- it really is full of some of the strangest creatures that you have ever come across. There was a web. Possibly the largest web you have ever seen. It was suspended between half a dozen trees. At the centre of that web was an eightleg -- they are something of a rarity in The Dark Peak -- strange that, since they are pretty ubiquitous in the off-world. And I say eightleg, since that is what they usually are, but this beast, this was something different altogether. I didn't get too close, you wouldn't would you? I mean, look at the thing, it's difficult to see where the creature stops and the branches begin, it's as if it is melded with the trees -- at one with its hosts. Lying in wait for unsuspecting prey, which I had no intention of being me, or Shad -- I don't even know whether a padfoot like him could handle whatever venom such an heinous monster might be capable of dishing out, and I'd very much doubt that I could; so best to stay away from a character like that.
I mentioned Nigel not long ago. I was out at Outibridge, and I bumped into a guy in a pub there. Nice enough chap. He said that he worked in an office on the Middlewood road and he was pretty happy with his job. I mean, in this place, most people are content, so no surprises there -- that's the whole point about the psycmasks and the hivemind, to keep folk content and happy with their small corner of life, or so I understand. Van has backed that theory up many a time, although of course a century or so ago, he wasn't content at all, which is why he decided to abscond to The Dark Peak proper, and why we are now finishing off his memoirs.
Anyway, getting back to Nigel, yeah, seemed like a nice enough bloke, but then the very next day, I heard on the hive mind:
#### HMM::IN('DPDC Alert: Hellsborough junction closed, suspected sabotage of Hellborough Bridge.') `hits:: 4991007 // [this]2001:0db8:85a3:0000:0000:8a2e:037g:7334 [loc::hellsborough//middlewood_road//467]__ // now:: 79.squall-longleg.12.0.9.15.11`
`Avoid area. Roads closed. Suspected casualties.`
This might put that into some sort of context, a video I came across earlier, you can view it here.
Having been steady for many months, the humidity plant went haywire again this weekend, so headed down the muddy banks of The Rivelin, where the air is cooler and there was a bit of a breeze, blowing the murk about in curls. Me and Shad were minding our own business -- not much tends to bother Shad, he is big enough and bad enough for most creatures not to mess with, so this is a first. I think the barker must have been wild, certainly the jellyhead that purported to be it's owner wasn't in control of it. This damn thing, it looked like the chaotic mutant spawn of a ripperthroat and a sly, was chewing on rocks as we approached. Yes, I know, when have you ever seen a barker chewing on rocks, and seemingly enjoying itself? Must have been strengthening up its jaw, for as we was parallel to it, the damn thing almost took my legs out in its haste to get to Shad and take a chunk out of him.
Shad actually yelped, but would have defended himself admirably (how could he not, he can't die now can he?), but I stepped up to the plate and commanded the beast back to its owner, which it did with tail between its legs. The jellyhead owner was most apologetic, and so he should be -- I advised him to put his damn mutt on a lead, or face the wrath of the nascenti; he obliged, the organic network out there is very focused, so he'll likely get his comeuppance from the nascenti anyway.
All was calm after that, and it is a funny coincidence that the event happened at the Ripperthroat wheel, which is where I snapped this shot of a clown quacker with my psycmask:
