Subject: Victoria
Unicorn female. Singer. Repeatedly corroborated reports of NCMM.
The term meatspace had always struck Victoria as rather crass. This particular space, studded with low-glowing lights and the cool sheen of Victoria’s own magic, had no cause to be associated with a word like “meat.” More offensive still was the fact that “meat” was supposed to refer to her natural body, as if that were an insult. Victoria was everything that those who used the term did not know how to appreciate: A living, breathing mare free from even the slightest hint of aura distortion. Hers was a beauty both carnal and mystical, the likes of which no lifeless contrivance of alloy and plastic could hope to imitate.
A rapid stream of notifications flicked across her designer AR glasses. Messages from her fans, newsfeeds echoing her announcements, and the room’s systems reporting as they came online. A number hovering slightly below eye level counted frantically, its last three digits an illegible blur. Two thousand... six thousand... fifteen...
In all fairness, Victoria didn’t want to be unduly judgemental towards the hard-sim users and other technophiles among those waiting for the show to start. After all, wasn’t it the Net that enabled her to perform from the comfort of her own home... wasn’t it virtual reality that gave birth to the shared culture that she lived and breathed?
Regardless, the incomparable Victoria was the main attraction tonight; virtual reality was merely the medium for her art. Here, in this tiny cylindrical room no more than thirty feet in diameter, a show was about to begin for an audience of... Victoria glanced at the counter one more time before telekinetically lifting her shades away from her face. An audience of ninety-one thousand.
Right on schedule, the room’s lights faded out, plunging the room into darkness. Are you ready? Victoria silently whispered to the room. The room heard. Microphones awakened and cameras swiveled to acknowledge their mistress.
There was no indicator light; no musical lead-in or audio cue—Victoria was in control. She breathed emptiness and total darkness for a few moments, allowing herself to feel the pulsing energy in the walls and the gaze of ninety-one thousand ponies watching her through one hundred forty-four cameras.
A tingle of energy sparked through her body as she exhaled a sharp, silent command: Now!
Twelve speakers, six subwoofers, and four hundred thirty two lights roared to life just in time to illuminate Victoria in fiery crimson as she reared, throwing her head back with eyes closed and mouth open as in a silent gasp. Those zoomed in close enough would see Victoria smile as she opened her eyes—eyes redder than the blaze of light around her.
The bass pounded, heavy and dirty with an electric buzz and a driving, passionate melody. Victoria matched its passion with effortless ferocity. The floor’s lights threw splashes of yellow over her thrashing, twisting body. She was a candle-flame, flickering and surging to the blare of the music, mane flying in wild strands as she shook and stomped to the rhythm.
… Two, three, and... Victoria froze with her legs braced in a wide stance, and the music collapsed to only a steady thump. The walls turned blue, the floor turned dark red, and Victoria’s fire instantly turned icy. In a low, rich voice, she sang:
Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons
Turn and look me in the eye
The walls pulsed red four times as Victoria thrashed her flanks and tail to four pounding electronic beats. This time, her head bobbed lightly when the walls colored her in blue and the music made way for her voice again.
Just come with me and I’ll show you the sun
You and me, we’ll touch the sky!
Don’t be afraid
And don’t hold back
Everyone’s invited now
Victoria turned a slow circle, making eye contact with the ponies watching through the hidden cameras in the walls. Her voice was dark, sultry. She narrowed her eyes just so, and allowed herself a tiny smile.
If music’s in your heart then so am I
Step on up, I’ll show you how...
Victoria’s subtle smile split into a dangerously perfect glow of joy as the music soared and the room’s lights flew into chaos. Then, just as the music grew to a climax, it cut to silence.
In the tense eighth note of pitch darkness, Victoria tried to feel the room’s energy surge through her legs and into her chest, building in intensity, ready to be released in a burst...
Out of the darkness came a single pale light, cast not by the room but by Victoria herself.The gentle glow of her horn was just enough to allow a glimpse of her pristine white mane and coat and her seductive blood-red eyes.
“Let’s dance.”
At those whispered words, the room exploded with music. The lights surged blindingly, rhythmically flashing between darkness and vibrant color. Victoria’s face was inches from the wall—and then she backed on three legs away towards the center of the room, extending a forehoof to her ninety-one thousand dancing partners. She turned her head to the side as she sang a jubilant chorus, but she kept one eye facing straight forward, into the eyes of the one she was leading.
Just close your eyes and you’ll see
How sweet the music can be
Just pick your hooves up, come along and dance with me
Victoria reared and spun on her rear hooves, spreading her forelegs wide and twirling under the adoring eyes of the cameras, never stopping her song. Without any pause, she planted her hooves on the ground again and pranced a circuit around the edge of the room. Every strobe flash captured another moment of perfection as she ran.
Our bodies moving this way
All through the night and the day
Don’t be afraid now, darlin’, come and dance with me!
From there, there were no more words—just the thundering of the bass, the soaring electric melody, and the sensuous breath of a mare whose coat and mane shone with the colors projected onto her by the walls and floor, her twirling and gyrating body locked in a dance of passion with her many unseen partners.
Racks of fluorescent lights fizzed to life automatically as Victoria stepped out of the performance room and into the hallway with her shades already on. She was breathing deeply from exertion and her mane was a disaster, but that was to be expected after a show—no need to attend to her appearance just yet.
The walls were papered with AR notes—already her Hoofbeat account was buzzing with hundreds of messages praising the show. With a sharp tilt of her head, she dismissed the stream of comments. A network of another kind required her attention, first.
The narrow hallway gave way to a room that was bare except for the curved panoramic window covering most of the far wall. Victoria walked up to the window with determined strides, closing the door behind her with a soft pulse of magic. If you please, she thought to the room, and the lights dimmed.
Far below, the entire Upper City was laid out before her. The city on stilts, straight out of a postcard: Trimmed trees, glistening office buildings, luxurious two-story houses with quaint little manicured lawns. An idyllic rectangular town, Victoria thought, hiding a vast city beneath. The glass darkened as Victoria’s shades painted the view of New Canterlot with AR.
Victoria raised her forehooves high, then fell backwards into a chair as it unfolded from the carpeted floor. With the show successfully concluded, it was time to move on to the day’s second order of business. The chair slowly rose towards the ceiling, then stopped once it was elevated enough to give its owner a bird’s eye view of the entire plate.
Floating tags marking locations of interest expanded to show details as Victoria swept her hoof slowly from left to right. The Solar Industries leak was still in place, yesterday’s Cartwright Universal operation had been a success... Victoria nodded in approval as she finished the first scan. Mostly good news from the upper assets, with only one reporting that he’d been identified on the job and needed assistance. With a quick shake of her head, Victoria swept away the Upper City memos. The failure was regrettable, but she’d never liked that fellow anyway. What was his name again? Well, never mind—as of right now, his name was “unviable.”
“Reminder,” she said, holding up a hoof. A box with the header reminder appeared where she was pointing. “Seek replacement for compromised SpireTech agent.” She nodded, and lowered her hoof again, leaving the note hanging where she’d left it.
Now came the interesting part. Victoria raised both forelegs, then split them as if swimming forward into the cityscape. Seeing this, the window blacked out entirely, letting the shades give Victoria an X-ray view of the real New Canterlot. From platescraper suites to soot-stained slums, the map of Victoria’s assets in the shadows made the one for the upper city look like a postage stamp.
Victoria tilted her head as she moved her hoof over a rapidly moving blip that was blinking bright red. A window opened, showing the view through the cybereyes of somepony tearing through the city—somepony who had pneumatic pistons for legs, judging by how high they could jump. Victoria clicked her tongue when she saw a two-inch crater suddenly appear in a concrete wall. Ah. Well, this asset was somepony who wouldn’t be so easily replaced.
Victoria gave her orders in a stern monotone: “Ground assets. Proximity to target. Search.” Two blips only a few streets away flickered green. Perfect. Victoria raised a hoof and jabbed at the words Voice Message, and then Urgent Priority.
“This is Redeye,” Victoria said evenly. Tiny words appeared near the bottom of the panorama: Voice Distortion active. “An urgent matter requires your immediate attention. Once you confirm that you have received this message, the exact location of an individual whom I have been tracking will be made available to you. You are to subdue her and bring her to location R. Four thousand bits will be transferred to your account once I receive confirmation that she has been detained, preferably unharmed. Please reply immediately.”
Victoria stared at the pony’s-eye-view window intently while she waited for the assets to respond. Always the little daredevil, this one, but at least she was fortunate enough to be fleeing towards a location controlled by her unseen benefactor.
I was able to put this song together nicely, giving it a sexy kind of theme with a touch of vacuous pop music, and I never had to use that rhyming website.
Unfortunately, I cannot claim this as truly original work. This song is my own lyrics to a song that you probably know very well--even the synths that Victoria sings over are supposed to be those of this certain song.
It should be clear if you read the extended lyrics.
Nice, intriguing chapter. Looking forward to the next
So, let me get this straight:
Twilight's Analopony is a professor of history at the premier university in the nation.
Applejack's Analopony is a farmer of hydroponically produced goods who also may-or-may-not have dealings with the less-than-legal aspects of the City.
Rainbow's Analopony is a cybernetically not-crippled super pegasus with guns in her wings who is apparently some sort of gang leader/gunmare for hire.
Rarity's Analopony is a pop-star (can you give us a genre for what you ripped off?) because the internet and is also a supremely powerful Shadow-Broker-esque figure.
Fluttershy's Analopony is a professional thief with a slightly absurd amount of flying ability and agility.
What the hell?! It's like you made everyone about 80 times more badass and possibly 80 times less likely to pull off an Elements-of-Harmony style friendship. I don't even.
Hence: You epic win.
MLP and Shadowrun? Please, sir, I'd like some more!
I like it. A lot!
This... looks awesome. Haven't been on here in awhile but this is certainly a great story to restart my readin' with.
Took this story long enough to get on EQD.
Even before reading, favorited.
Shadowrun and Ponies? Instant Fave and Follow.
Shadowrun eh? I was considering writing one myself but now I guess I'll have to stick to that "Sword of the Stars" crossover I'm working on.
I'm getting a serious Ghost in the Shell Vibe going with this, if GitS was more about the initial recruiting of section 9 rather than after its members formed up.
Victoria seems like you took the job of vinyl scratch, stole the V and tacked it on Octavia's name, and gave her Rarity's air of high society.
Great story btw, keep it up. I want to see the reincarnation of pinkie.
1981310
Subversion? What do you mean?
1984403
1981373
1983258
I try to get away with not calling this a crossover, because it doesn't use any Shadowrun-canon. There's no Great Ghost Dance, no Renraku Arcology, no blood mages or bug spirits. Still, this story does owe a lot to Shadowrun. The Awakening is the main one--the whole reason I wanted to write this fic is because of the idea of pony magic coming and going like it does in Shadowrun/Earthdawn/(arguably) Eclipse Phase.
The funny thing about Shadowrun is that it had to catch up to the real world when 2010 ended up having more advanced tech than their vision of 2050! So when SR4 moved us to 2070, Shadowrunners suddenly gained access to massive storage space and wi-fi. Also, the Internet stopped looking like hilarious Tron-style geometric shapes and lights.
And we're still making advances past even the 2070s--Shadowrun 4th did not anticipate cloud-based computing or Twitter.
So, while the technology level is inspired by Shadowrun, the tech doesn't really draw on Shadowrun specifics. That aspect probably owes more to Human Revolution. Just like the 2070s did to Shadowrun, Deus Ex: Human Revolution takes Deus Ex and makes it catch up to the real world. I will hopefully be able to write a few bits addressing transhumanism (transequinism) and the social implications of cybertechnology.
And, of course, there's the all-original concept of the fact that the magic being awakened is happy pony magic from the age of unicorns and rainbows. Magic powered by the basic goodness in pony hearts, the kind of magic that was once thought of as being powered by friendship. This is the magic that's barging its way into the world of Deus Ex.
1984482
My own idea would be that some sort of circuit-frying magic field encompassed Equestria from the reign of Discord until the 1011 winter solstice, then technological progress exploded. Actually with the new episode I could have made it Discord who directly introduces things like the Matrix.
And why mention Eclipse Phase, I'm pretty sure there's no magic whatsoever, just psionics caused by a virus written by a Kardashev III entity. I'd also call EP philosophically at odds with Shadowrun, and most other cyberpunk actually.
1985488
Cyberpunk--real cyberpunk, which Shadowrun is not--is all about corporations and how evil they are. Cybertechnology is supposed to represent the *dangers* of technology. Eclipse Phase is too far removed from that to be "at odds with" it. There are no evil corporations in Eclipse Phase, or if there are, you can raise them a middle hoof and farcast away.
Unlike when "real" cyberpunk was being written, in today's day and age everything about cyberpunk is real. Human Revolution is the best example of modern "post-cyberpunk" I can think of. This is cyberpunk that was not written in the 90s when corporations were scary and technology was dangerous. Corporations in real life are horrifyingly similar to cyberpunk corporations, and "the network of information controlling everything" and "robot limbs replacing your humanity" are things that we are actively developing and using. We don't have ANYTHING like the same perspective that "real" cyberpunk authors did.
You should totally read the wiki page's very short section on post-cyberpunk.
Oh, and I say Eclipse Phase is the 8th Age because it was made by the same game company. I'm not the only one making the argument either. Think about it--the Horrors destroyed the world, and now a new age is starting--arguably one that has magic in it.
See, if an Awakened person goes into outer space, they lose all their powers and become Mundane, and possibly go insane. It's like a reverse background count: there is no magic out there! Think about that. If the Awakening happened and everyone was living in outer space, what would happen? Maybe the nanoswarms are magic nanoswarms! The book's GM section even mentions the possibility of Omega-level asyncs that can throw fucking fireballs and basically do whatever kind of magic shit the GM feels like.
What's with all the deleted comments? Wow.
So...is she like a princess? I hope so.
1985667
I was kind of focusing on the "dehumanizing effects of technology" aspect of cyberpunk, as distinct from post-cyberpunk which Eclipse Phase is quite clearly. I very much doubt that EP is the same world as Shadowrun mainly because EP has no drawbacks whatsoever to augmentation, by Shadowrun's rules over 90% of the Post-Fall population should be cyberzombies or dead.
The chapters are a little short, but the setting looks promising. It feels like each chapter isn't as full as they might be, each feel like the teaser for something more complete, I guess. Not sure how to describe it.
Okay, Nice job with Rarity/Victoria as the Media/Fixer/Johnson.
The imagery was wonderful. Please, let's get on with it.
1985667
Not that guy, but when I read Bruce Sterling's writings about what cyberpunk is and what cyberpunk is not, in the old Cheap Truth and SF Eye sci-fi 'zines from the 80s and 90s, the impression I come away with is that "cyberpunk" as a genre came to exist in the late 1970s, early 1980s, as a reaction to what a certain group of young outsider sci-fi writers, mostly located in or near the San Francisco Bay area, felt was an excessively "romantic," "techno-utopian" tone to science fiction of the time. If you wonder why I mention Sterling specifically, it's because he's one of the original five authors who created the genre, along with William Gibson, Rudy Rucker, John Shirley, and Pat Cadigan.
By this they meant that it was their perception that too much of speculative fiction for too long had been breezy lightweight escapist fantasy, romantic travelogues of the Wonderful World of Tomorrow with all its chrome-plated rocket ships that looked like enormous V-2 rockets standing on their tailfins, pointing defiantly towards a Manifest Destiny among the stars. And these writers perceived that it contained assumptions that they found irksome, going back to 19th Century Romanticism. Which implies that cyberpunk has less to do with cranial jacks, or black leather jeans, or cyborg mercenaries, or corporations, or the very dated 1980s politics about the Cold War and Japan, and more to do with more basic, fundamental assumptions underlying the stories and influencing the storytelling. But let me quote Sterling here, he's more quotable than I am.
"Consider FRANKENSTEIN by Mary Shelley, a wellspring of
science fiction as a genre. In a cyberpunk analysis, FRANKENSTEIN is
"Humanist" SF. FRANKENSTEIN promotes the romantic dictum that
there are Some Things Man Was Not Meant to Know. There are no
mere physical mechanisms for this higher moral law -- its workings
transcend mortal understanding, it is something akin to divine will.
Hubris must meet nemesis; this is simply the nature of our universe.
Dr. Frankenstein commits a spine-chilling transgression, an affront
against the human soul, and with memorable poetic justice, he is direly
punished by his own creation, the Monster.
Now imagine a cyberpunk version of FRANKENSTEIN. In this
imaginary work, the Monster would likely be the well-funded R&D
team-project of some global corporation. The Monster might well
wreak bloody havoc, most likely on random passers-by. But having
done so, he would never have been allowed to wander to the North
Pole, uttering Byronic profundities. The Monsters of cyberpunk never
vanish so conveniently. They are already loose on the streets. They
are next to us. Quite likely *WE* are them. The Monster would have
been copyrighted through the new genetics laws, and manufactured
worldwide in many thousands. Soon the Monsters would all have
lousy night jobs mopping up at fast-food restaurants.
In the moral universe of cyberpunk, we *already* know Things
We Were Not Meant To Know. Our *grandparents* knew these things;
Robert Oppenheimer at Los Alamos became the Destroyer of Worlds
long before we arrived on the scene. In cyberpunk, the idea that there
are sacred limits to human action is simply a delusion. There are no
sacred boundaries to protect us from ourselves..."
And, more succinctly:
"Anything that can be done to a rat can be done to a human being.
And we can do most anything to rats. This is a hard thing to think
about, but it's the truth. It won't go away because we cover our eyes.
THAT is cyberpunk."
But here. Go to the source, read the original:
http://www.csdl.tamu.edu/~erich/cheaptruth/
https://w2.eff.org/Misc/Publications/Bruce_Sterling/Catscan_columns/
http://www.lib.ru/STERLINGB/interzone.txt
Now, I think that it's possible to argue some of the points either way. 40s and 50s sci-fi writers like Robert Heinlein or Cordwainer Smith or Poul Andersen, who wrote about social decline, overpopulation, and nuclear war, would have bristled at the suggestion that the genre consisted of nothing but fluffy, substance-free escape literature for adolescents. George Orwell and Aldous Huxley would have rolled their eyes. H. G. Wells was writing about doomsday weapons and dictatorships a century ago and more.
Nonetheless, if you want to talk about what cyberpunk is and what it is not, the place to start is with the genre's creators.