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theatrical_muse today.
Prompt 320: What do you command?
Just the fundamental forces of space, time, matter and energy. Not much, really. I mean, practically anyone can make a planet just by thinking about it, can't they? The forces at my command must be trivial, considering how seriously people take me. After all, why be frightened of a guy who could transform you into a wombat or de-evolve you into a slime mold on a whim? It's much more important to establish that you, and your petty little starship, and your tiny little underevolved species, are in control of your own lives and destinies, and you're in charge of absolutely everything. Why, you can even go so far as to order me to get off your bridge. That can't possibly result in my being irritated with you and wiping you retroactively out of existence at all!
... seriously, is it me or is it them? I mean, either they're astonishingly good judges of character, to figure out within ten minutes of meeting me that I'm not in fact actually going to do any of those things, despite the fact that I'm going out of my way to strongly imply that I just might... or they're complete idiots who *are* going to get wiped out of existence by something that doesn't find them nearly as amusing as I do, one of these days.
Prompt 317: What do you still have from when you were young?
I was young billions of years ago.
Okay, if pressed, I'll have to admit I was young mere *millions* of years ago. Either way, though, not a lot of, well, *things* survive that length of time. And when you have the ability to manufacture matter at will with a snap of your fingers, and you spend most of your time being incorporeal anyway, there really isn't anything all that appealing about things. Objects, made of matter... honestly, the idea of keeping a matter-based object around for sentimental reasons strikes me as rather similar to one of you keeping a used kleenex around from your childhood.
What I have from when I was young are my memories, and the relationships I had with other Q... a distressing number of which are gone now. I mean, mortals can expect that a significant number of the people who were important to them when they were growing up would either be dead or irrelevant to them by the time they're adults with a child of their own, but the Q are immortal, which makes it rather unpleasant to consider how many of the ones I most cared about when I was younger are now dead. It's less surprising how many of my relationships with the ones who are still alive are... shall we say, considerably more strained than they were back then; I haven't precisely become the sort of Q everyone considers their best buddy. And a significant number of *them* have become people who are entirely too boring to bother with anymore.
theatrical_muse today.Prompt 320: What do you command?
Just the fundamental forces of space, time, matter and energy. Not much, really. I mean, practically anyone can make a planet just by thinking about it, can't they? The forces at my command must be trivial, considering how seriously people take me. After all, why be frightened of a guy who could transform you into a wombat or de-evolve you into a slime mold on a whim? It's much more important to establish that you, and your petty little starship, and your tiny little underevolved species, are in control of your own lives and destinies, and you're in charge of absolutely everything. Why, you can even go so far as to order me to get off your bridge. That can't possibly result in my being irritated with you and wiping you retroactively out of existence at all!
... seriously, is it me or is it them? I mean, either they're astonishingly good judges of character, to figure out within ten minutes of meeting me that I'm not in fact actually going to do any of those things, despite the fact that I'm going out of my way to strongly imply that I just might... or they're complete idiots who *are* going to get wiped out of existence by something that doesn't find them nearly as amusing as I do, one of these days.
Prompt 317: What do you still have from when you were young?
I was young billions of years ago.
Okay, if pressed, I'll have to admit I was young mere *millions* of years ago. Either way, though, not a lot of, well, *things* survive that length of time. And when you have the ability to manufacture matter at will with a snap of your fingers, and you spend most of your time being incorporeal anyway, there really isn't anything all that appealing about things. Objects, made of matter... honestly, the idea of keeping a matter-based object around for sentimental reasons strikes me as rather similar to one of you keeping a used kleenex around from your childhood.
What I have from when I was young are my memories, and the relationships I had with other Q... a distressing number of which are gone now. I mean, mortals can expect that a significant number of the people who were important to them when they were growing up would either be dead or irrelevant to them by the time they're adults with a child of their own, but the Q are immortal, which makes it rather unpleasant to consider how many of the ones I most cared about when I was younger are now dead. It's less surprising how many of my relationships with the ones who are still alive are... shall we say, considerably more strained than they were back then; I haven't precisely become the sort of Q everyone considers their best buddy. And a significant number of *them* have become people who are entirely too boring to bother with anymore.