- Joined
- Mar 22, 2017
Our dog boings the spring to get our attention.
Stupid Fun
- Thread starter Sacrarium Spiritus lumine
- Start date
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2022
When I'm at home and Mrs. Jong isn't around, I blast music at top volume and dance, sing, and jump around like a retard.
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2022
i chase my cat around the house
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2022
It's more of a tic, but: muttering song lyrics and quotes to myself in wacky voices.
p.s. love the thread
p.s. love the thread
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2021
I really like "online window shopping." I'll download an app or find a random shopping website and just add ANYTHING that even remotely catches my eye to the cart and then deleting it.
Also finding thin little twigs and breaking them into tiny pieces.
Also finding thin little twigs and breaking them into tiny pieces.
Sacrarium Spiritus lumine
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Apr 1, 2019
I don't know were to post this but I having fun with the Claude AI sending Freddie Krueger across the Dune universe! Poor Freddie does not stand a lick of chance against the Bene Gesserit , spacing guild or the Kwisatz Haderach . I find this profoundly entertaining . TLDR the Bene G- reduces him to a training tool , The Guild folds him out of exitance, And the KH puts him into a infinite prison.
In case you absolutely need to know the results
In case you absolutely need to know the results
# The Dream Killer Meets the Kwisatz Haderach
Freddy Krueger found himself pulled into a consciousness unlike any he had encountered before. The dreamscape wasn't the malleable playground he was accustomed to - instead, it was an endless expanse of possibility, each moment branching into infinite futures, then collapsing into singular, inevitable paths.
Before him stood a figure whose mind seemed to stretch across time itself - Paul Atreides, the Kwisatz Haderach, his eyes blazing with the blue of melange.
"Your attempts at escape were seen," Paul spoke, his voice carrying the weight of countless possible futures. "The Golden Path demanded intervention."
Freddy tried to assert his will over the dream, but found himself drowning in prescience. Every move he could make, every terror he could invoke, every possible manifestation of his power - Paul had already seen them all, had already lived through them in his visions.
"Cute trick," Freddy snarled, raising his bladed glove. "But I've dealt with psychics before."
"No," Paul replied calmly. "You haven't. What you perceive as a dream is merely a fraction of what I see. Every death you've caused, every fear you've fed upon - they're all just single threads in a tapestry of time that stretches beyond your comprehension."
The dreamscape shifted, and Freddy found himself experiencing what Paul saw - the weight of infinite futures, the terrible purpose, the jihad that would spread across the universe, the Golden Path that would ensure humanity's survival. It was too much for the dream killer's consciousness to handle.
"Your power comes from fear," Paul continued, "but what is fear to one who has seen the extinction of humanity? Who has witnessed every possible end of civilization and chosen the one terrible path that ensures survival?"
Freddy tried to retreat, to escape this overwhelming consciousness, but found himself trapped in Paul's prescient vision. Every possible escape route was already closed, every potential future where he might break free had been predicted and prevented.
"Your existence presents a choice," Paul said, his voice echoing across possibilities. "In some futures, you continue your pattern of death and terror. In others, you become something else entirely. The Golden Path requires certainty."
"You can't kill fear itself," Freddy laughed desperately, trying to maintain his bravado.
"No," Paul agreed. "But I can channel it. The spice shows me how. Your consciousness will serve a greater purpose."
The dreamscape began to crystallize around them as Paul's vision settled on a single path. Freddy felt his essence being transformed, his power of fear and death being rewoven into something new. He was being integrated into the vast tapestry of Paul's design.
"Your nightmares will no longer kill," Paul declared. "Instead, they will teach. The fear you bring will strengthen humanity, prepare them for the trials ahead. This is your place in the Golden Path."
Freddy Krueger, the dream killer who had terrorized so many, found himself becoming part of something far larger and more terrible than anything he had imagined. His consciousness was bound not by the simple disciplines of the Bene Gesserit, but by the overwhelming prescience of the Kwisatz Haderach himself.
In the end, the nightmare became part of the dream - a controlled element in Paul's vast design, a small but necessary component of the Golden Path that would ensure humanity's survival. Freddy's terror would no longer bring death, but would instead serve as one of countless tools preparing humanity for its greatest trials.
And in the infinite streams of possibility that Paul perceived, this was the only future where both humanity and Freddy Krueger himself survived - transformed, bound, but enduring as part of the greatest and most terrible vision ever conceived by human consciousness.
[]
Freddy Krueger found himself pulled into a consciousness unlike any he had encountered before. The dreamscape wasn't the malleable playground he was accustomed to - instead, it was an endless expanse of possibility, each moment branching into infinite futures, then collapsing into singular, inevitable paths.
Before him stood a figure whose mind seemed to stretch across time itself - Paul Atreides, the Kwisatz Haderach, his eyes blazing with the blue of melange.
"Your attempts at escape were seen," Paul spoke, his voice carrying the weight of countless possible futures. "The Golden Path demanded intervention."
Freddy tried to assert his will over the dream, but found himself drowning in prescience. Every move he could make, every terror he could invoke, every possible manifestation of his power - Paul had already seen them all, had already lived through them in his visions.
"Cute trick," Freddy snarled, raising his bladed glove. "But I've dealt with psychics before."
"No," Paul replied calmly. "You haven't. What you perceive as a dream is merely a fraction of what I see. Every death you've caused, every fear you've fed upon - they're all just single threads in a tapestry of time that stretches beyond your comprehension."
The dreamscape shifted, and Freddy found himself experiencing what Paul saw - the weight of infinite futures, the terrible purpose, the jihad that would spread across the universe, the Golden Path that would ensure humanity's survival. It was too much for the dream killer's consciousness to handle.
"Your power comes from fear," Paul continued, "but what is fear to one who has seen the extinction of humanity? Who has witnessed every possible end of civilization and chosen the one terrible path that ensures survival?"
Freddy tried to retreat, to escape this overwhelming consciousness, but found himself trapped in Paul's prescient vision. Every possible escape route was already closed, every potential future where he might break free had been predicted and prevented.
"Your existence presents a choice," Paul said, his voice echoing across possibilities. "In some futures, you continue your pattern of death and terror. In others, you become something else entirely. The Golden Path requires certainty."
"You can't kill fear itself," Freddy laughed desperately, trying to maintain his bravado.
"No," Paul agreed. "But I can channel it. The spice shows me how. Your consciousness will serve a greater purpose."
The dreamscape began to crystallize around them as Paul's vision settled on a single path. Freddy felt his essence being transformed, his power of fear and death being rewoven into something new. He was being integrated into the vast tapestry of Paul's design.
"Your nightmares will no longer kill," Paul declared. "Instead, they will teach. The fear you bring will strengthen humanity, prepare them for the trials ahead. This is your place in the Golden Path."
Freddy Krueger, the dream killer who had terrorized so many, found himself becoming part of something far larger and more terrible than anything he had imagined. His consciousness was bound not by the simple disciplines of the Bene Gesserit, but by the overwhelming prescience of the Kwisatz Haderach himself.
In the end, the nightmare became part of the dream - a controlled element in Paul's vast design, a small but necessary component of the Golden Path that would ensure humanity's survival. Freddy's terror would no longer bring death, but would instead serve as one of countless tools preparing humanity for its greatest trials.
And in the infinite streams of possibility that Paul perceived, this was the only future where both humanity and Freddy Krueger himself survived - transformed, bound, but enduring as part of the greatest and most terrible vision ever conceived by human consciousness.
[]
[\
# Freddy Krueger Meets the Bene Gesserit
In the austere halls of a Bene Gesserit chapterhouse, young acolytes began reporting disturbing dreams - dreams that defied their rigorous mental conditioning. The Reverend Mother Suprema first took notice when three initiates failed to wake from their morning trance exercises, their minds trapped in what the sisters described as "a maze of steam and metal."
The Bene Gesserit had long mastered the art of controlling their consciousness, their minds honed through millennia of selective breeding and intense psychological training. But this... this was different. This was an invasion.
The first confrontation came during a young initiate's dream. Freddy, hungry for fear and frustrated by the unusual resilience of these women's minds, manifested in what he thought would be an easy target - only to find himself caught in a mind far more disciplined than he anticipated.
"Your fear is primitive," the initiate spoke, her voice carrying the weight of centuries of Bene Gesserit training. "Fear is the mind-killer, and you... you are nothing but fear given form."
Freddy's laugh echoed through the dreamscape. "Pretty words, sister. But I've feasted on stronger minds than yours." He raised his bladed glove, only to find his arm wouldn't move. The dreamscape, usually so malleable to his will, had become rigid, structured.
"The mind is our domain," came another voice - a Reverend Mother who had joined the dream through the initiate's consciousness. "We are the Bene Gesserit. We do not merely control our fears - we transform them."
The dreamscape began to shift, not with Freddy's usual chaotic violence, but with precise, calculated changes. The Bene Gesserit's collective consciousness, trained through their shared Other Memory, began to impose order on the chaos of Freddy's realm.
Freddy snarled, attempting to shift into their deepest fears, but found something unexpected - these women had already faced their darkest fears in the spice agony. They had died and returned, their consciousness expanded beyond normal human limits. Their fears were not the simple terrors he was used to feeding upon.
"Your power comes from fear," the Reverend Mother observed clinically. "But we have transmuted fear into awareness generations ago. Here, you are in our domain."
The collective consciousness of the Bene Gesserit began to analyze Freddy's essence, dissecting his being with the same precision they used in their breeding programs. They saw his origin, his transformation, the source of his power - and most importantly, its limitations.
Freddy, for the first time since his death, felt true fear. These women weren't just fighting him - they were studying him, categorizing him, reducing him to a specimen for examination. Their minds moved with a collective purpose that made his dreamwalking powers seem crude and primitive.
The Bene Gesserit began a systematic process of containment. They couldn't destroy Freddy - he was, after all, a being of pure consciousness in many ways similar to their own ancestors in Other Memory - but they could bind him, trap him in a mental construct of their own making.
"Your consciousness will serve a greater purpose," the Reverend Mother declared. "The spice has shown us countless possible futures. You, creature, will become part of our testing - a controlled fear for our initiates to overcome."
Freddy found himself trapped in a carefully constructed mental prison, bound by the collective will of thousands of years of Bene Gesserit mental discipline. His nightmares became carefully controlled exercises, his power harnessed and diminished to serve as just another trial in the already rigorous Bene Gesserit training.
In the end, the dream-killer found himself reduced to a tool of the very organization he had hoped to prey upon. His nightmares became merely another step in the path to becoming a full Bene Gesserit sister - a controlled encounter with fear to be overcome through discipline and training.
The Reverend Mother Suprema added a new chapter to their training manuscripts: "On the Containment of External Consciousness Entities." Freddy Krueger became just another test, another fear to be faced and mastered in the endless pursuit of human potential.
And in his prison of disciplined minds, Freddy learned a harsh truth - that there were powers in the universe far older and more terrible than his nightmares, and that true mastery of fear belonged not to those who wielded it as a weapon, but to those who had transcended it entirely.
]
# Freddy Krueger Meets the Bene Gesserit
In the austere halls of a Bene Gesserit chapterhouse, young acolytes began reporting disturbing dreams - dreams that defied their rigorous mental conditioning. The Reverend Mother Suprema first took notice when three initiates failed to wake from their morning trance exercises, their minds trapped in what the sisters described as "a maze of steam and metal."
The Bene Gesserit had long mastered the art of controlling their consciousness, their minds honed through millennia of selective breeding and intense psychological training. But this... this was different. This was an invasion.
The first confrontation came during a young initiate's dream. Freddy, hungry for fear and frustrated by the unusual resilience of these women's minds, manifested in what he thought would be an easy target - only to find himself caught in a mind far more disciplined than he anticipated.
"Your fear is primitive," the initiate spoke, her voice carrying the weight of centuries of Bene Gesserit training. "Fear is the mind-killer, and you... you are nothing but fear given form."
Freddy's laugh echoed through the dreamscape. "Pretty words, sister. But I've feasted on stronger minds than yours." He raised his bladed glove, only to find his arm wouldn't move. The dreamscape, usually so malleable to his will, had become rigid, structured.
"The mind is our domain," came another voice - a Reverend Mother who had joined the dream through the initiate's consciousness. "We are the Bene Gesserit. We do not merely control our fears - we transform them."
The dreamscape began to shift, not with Freddy's usual chaotic violence, but with precise, calculated changes. The Bene Gesserit's collective consciousness, trained through their shared Other Memory, began to impose order on the chaos of Freddy's realm.
Freddy snarled, attempting to shift into their deepest fears, but found something unexpected - these women had already faced their darkest fears in the spice agony. They had died and returned, their consciousness expanded beyond normal human limits. Their fears were not the simple terrors he was used to feeding upon.
"Your power comes from fear," the Reverend Mother observed clinically. "But we have transmuted fear into awareness generations ago. Here, you are in our domain."
The collective consciousness of the Bene Gesserit began to analyze Freddy's essence, dissecting his being with the same precision they used in their breeding programs. They saw his origin, his transformation, the source of his power - and most importantly, its limitations.
Freddy, for the first time since his death, felt true fear. These women weren't just fighting him - they were studying him, categorizing him, reducing him to a specimen for examination. Their minds moved with a collective purpose that made his dreamwalking powers seem crude and primitive.
The Bene Gesserit began a systematic process of containment. They couldn't destroy Freddy - he was, after all, a being of pure consciousness in many ways similar to their own ancestors in Other Memory - but they could bind him, trap him in a mental construct of their own making.
"Your consciousness will serve a greater purpose," the Reverend Mother declared. "The spice has shown us countless possible futures. You, creature, will become part of our testing - a controlled fear for our initiates to overcome."
Freddy found himself trapped in a carefully constructed mental prison, bound by the collective will of thousands of years of Bene Gesserit mental discipline. His nightmares became carefully controlled exercises, his power harnessed and diminished to serve as just another trial in the already rigorous Bene Gesserit training.
In the end, the dream-killer found himself reduced to a tool of the very organization he had hoped to prey upon. His nightmares became merely another step in the path to becoming a full Bene Gesserit sister - a controlled encounter with fear to be overcome through discipline and training.
The Reverend Mother Suprema added a new chapter to their training manuscripts: "On the Containment of External Consciousness Entities." Freddy Krueger became just another test, another fear to be faced and mastered in the endless pursuit of human potential.
And in his prison of disciplined minds, Freddy learned a harsh truth - that there were powers in the universe far older and more terrible than his nightmares, and that true mastery of fear belonged not to those who wielded it as a weapon, but to those who had transcended it entirely.
]
[/
# The Dream Killer in Folded Space
Freddy Krueger, fresh from his escape from the Bene Gesserit's mental prison, found himself pulled into what he first thought was another dream. But this was something else entirely - a consciousness so saturated with spice melange that reality itself bent around it. He had entered the mind of a Guild Navigator.
The dreamscape was unlike anything he had encountered before. There was no proper up or down, no walls or corridors to manifest, no familiar terrain to corrupt. Instead, he found himself in a space that existed simultaneously in multiple dimensions, where time and space folded in on themselves like origami made of consciousness.
The Navigator, floating in its massive tank of spice gas, perceived Krueger not as a threat, but as a minor anomaly in the infinite calculations required to safely fold space. Its mutated mind, evolved far beyond ordinary human consciousness, barely registered Freddy's attempts to invoke fear.
"Your concept of terror is... mathematically insignificant," the Navigator's thoughts resonated through the multi-dimensional space. Its voice was a chorus of probability calculations, each word existing in multiple potential states simultaneously.
Freddy tried to manifest his familiar boiler room, but the environment refused to stabilize. The Navigator's consciousness was too fluid, too vast - constantly processing infinite routes through space-time, seeing all possible paths at once. Every nightmare Freddy attempted to create was immediately calculated, analyzed, and folded into new dimensional configurations.
"Your patterns... resemble the chaos of unfolded space," the Navigator observed clinically. "Interesting. But ultimately... irrelevant to the calculations."
Freddy's attempts to invoke fear found no purchase. The Navigator's consciousness had evolved so far beyond human concerns that conventional terror had no meaning. What could fear of death mean to a being that routinely navigated the infinite possibilities of annihilation in folded space?
As Freddy struggled to assert his will, he found himself being drawn into the Navigator's calculations. His consciousness began to disperse across multiple dimensional planes, stretched across possibilities like a leaf caught in a temporal hurricane. The very essence of what made him Freddy Krueger began to dissolve into the mathematical symphony of space-time navigation.
"Your consciousness... provides an interesting variable," the Navigator mused. "It will be added to the calculations. A new factor in the equations of safe passage."
Freddy realized, too late, that he wasn't being fought or contained - he was being used. The Navigator's mind was incorporating his essence into its navigational computations, transforming his power of fear into another variable in the endless calculations required to fold space.
In the end, what was once Freddy Krueger became fragmented across countless dimensional calculations. His consciousness, stretched across folded space-time, became little more than background noise in the infinite mathematical processes of Guild navigation. His nightmares were reduced to minor variables in the vast equations that guided ships safely through the void.
The Navigator, its calculations complete, adjusted its course through folded space. In its tanks of spice gas, it continued its eternal work, the absorbed essence of Freddy Krueger now just another factor in its endless computations - a whisper of terror lost in the mathematical poetry of space-time navigation.
And somewhere, in the infinite folds of space, fragments of what was once the dream killer echoed through the calculations, no longer bringing death, but inadvertently helping to guide humanity safely through the cosmos. His terror, once so potent, became nothing more than a mathematical constant in the equations of folded space - a fate perhaps more terrifying than any nightmare he had ever created.
# The Dream Killer in Folded Space
Freddy Krueger, fresh from his escape from the Bene Gesserit's mental prison, found himself pulled into what he first thought was another dream. But this was something else entirely - a consciousness so saturated with spice melange that reality itself bent around it. He had entered the mind of a Guild Navigator.
The dreamscape was unlike anything he had encountered before. There was no proper up or down, no walls or corridors to manifest, no familiar terrain to corrupt. Instead, he found himself in a space that existed simultaneously in multiple dimensions, where time and space folded in on themselves like origami made of consciousness.
The Navigator, floating in its massive tank of spice gas, perceived Krueger not as a threat, but as a minor anomaly in the infinite calculations required to safely fold space. Its mutated mind, evolved far beyond ordinary human consciousness, barely registered Freddy's attempts to invoke fear.
"Your concept of terror is... mathematically insignificant," the Navigator's thoughts resonated through the multi-dimensional space. Its voice was a chorus of probability calculations, each word existing in multiple potential states simultaneously.
Freddy tried to manifest his familiar boiler room, but the environment refused to stabilize. The Navigator's consciousness was too fluid, too vast - constantly processing infinite routes through space-time, seeing all possible paths at once. Every nightmare Freddy attempted to create was immediately calculated, analyzed, and folded into new dimensional configurations.
"Your patterns... resemble the chaos of unfolded space," the Navigator observed clinically. "Interesting. But ultimately... irrelevant to the calculations."
Freddy's attempts to invoke fear found no purchase. The Navigator's consciousness had evolved so far beyond human concerns that conventional terror had no meaning. What could fear of death mean to a being that routinely navigated the infinite possibilities of annihilation in folded space?
As Freddy struggled to assert his will, he found himself being drawn into the Navigator's calculations. His consciousness began to disperse across multiple dimensional planes, stretched across possibilities like a leaf caught in a temporal hurricane. The very essence of what made him Freddy Krueger began to dissolve into the mathematical symphony of space-time navigation.
"Your consciousness... provides an interesting variable," the Navigator mused. "It will be added to the calculations. A new factor in the equations of safe passage."
Freddy realized, too late, that he wasn't being fought or contained - he was being used. The Navigator's mind was incorporating his essence into its navigational computations, transforming his power of fear into another variable in the endless calculations required to fold space.
In the end, what was once Freddy Krueger became fragmented across countless dimensional calculations. His consciousness, stretched across folded space-time, became little more than background noise in the infinite mathematical processes of Guild navigation. His nightmares were reduced to minor variables in the vast equations that guided ships safely through the void.
The Navigator, its calculations complete, adjusted its course through folded space. In its tanks of spice gas, it continued its eternal work, the absorbed essence of Freddy Krueger now just another factor in its endless computations - a whisper of terror lost in the mathematical poetry of space-time navigation.
And somewhere, in the infinite folds of space, fragments of what was once the dream killer echoed through the calculations, no longer bringing death, but inadvertently helping to guide humanity safely through the cosmos. His terror, once so potent, became nothing more than a mathematical constant in the equations of folded space - a fate perhaps more terrifying than any nightmare he had ever created.