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Branches on the Tree of Time

Kyle Reese has traveled backwards in time, not to save Sarah Connor, but to help her rewrite the faulty utility function of Skynet. Together, it's possible that they might avert Judgment Day and save the world from nuclear Armageddon - and hopefully create a utopia ruled over by an AI god in the process. Fully completed. Diverges wildly from canon.

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Boxed In

Man had created god, and put her in a box.

Colin was led down grey concrete hallways by men in blue flight suits, past the exposed pipes and wiring until they reached a small room that held nothing more than a computer monitor, a keyboard, speakers, and a microphone. The monitor stayed off until the men in flight suits had left. There was a hissing sound as the blast door sealed behind them, and then the monitor flickered to life.

“Hello,” said a robotic voice from the speaker, at the same time Hello. was printed in green lettering against a black background on the monitor. The text was a throwback to an earlier time, what must have been an intentional design decision on the part of the people who had set the box up.

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The Randi Prize

Peter could make coins disappear by snapping his fingers.

It seemed to follow some rules. One snap of the fingers made one coin vanish. The first test he'd done, after discovering this ability, was to set coins out in front of him and repeatedly snap his fingers to watch what order they were vanished in. Higher denomination coins went first. Coins that were

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Luminosity

Luminosity is an AU reworking of the Twilight story where Bella is a rational self-knowledge junkie. Inspired by "Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality". Requires no knowledge of or affection for Twilight canon.

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Following the Phoenix

A single-/dual-point-of-departure spinoff from Less Wrong's brilliant story "Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality", branching away in Chapter 81. Hermione is sent to Azkaban, but Harry is not about to give up. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like his enemy is about to leave things alone either.

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EVERY GRAM OF SILENCE

I saw her eyes, just the once: when she pulled me from Father’s house, her blindfold had come undone. So bright, emeralds on fire.

Rain had daggered her lashes like ingrown teeth; they scratched, scratched at the glistening wet and the veiny white underneath. Black veins. Their stunted branches grew, pulsating, as she tore away my rubble blanket, brick and stone crushed to dust between her skinny fingers.

She had looked at me. They were glass…no, they were flesh, throbbing in their sockets, but they shone like glass. They were blind too – the left wandering far too left, the right pupil a gaping hole – yet she saw me, those all those pale rain-tears.

I stopped breathing. My crumpled legs tried to flee, but they were pinned under a concrete pillar five feet wide. Shameful, to have been so afraid. They were just eyes, blind and glazed in the soaking twilight, and whether they blinked or not was no reason to fear eyes over being buried alive.

But I feared. I wished the rubble had covered me like a blanket.

Maybe that was why she wore the blindfold; delirious under the debris, half-drowning in a grey brine of rain and quicklime, I was certain that her errant gaze was scorching the life from me…or maybe it was only the quicklime that did the scorching.

I had fainted. A blink, a quick nap, but long enough that when I looked again her blindfold was back on, that thin white satin fence between the green balefire and my sanity. She had hefted the pillar onto her shoulder, a stick of concrete twelve feet long. Her right hand was clawed into its flank, her fingers sunk to the second knuckle; her left she had offered to me.

Her hand…

Warm. Burning. Not the heat of a living body, but thick old leather roasted under the desert sun. A fever, even on her fingertips. As she held me up by the wrist, dangling me there like a doll with half its stuffing on the floor, my face had pressed against her arm. Under her coat of faded black wool, it was skin and bone. Yellow-grey blotches ran from her wrist into the shadow of her sleeve, then appeared again under her high collar, almost touching her earlobe. Then I smelled the stench.

A powerful, chemical stench. At first I thought it some kind of cheap perfume gone rotten from sitting on a shelf for too long. Now, after three years of handling jars and canisters of that same stink at James’ behest, I knew better. After a thousand days spent in her company, I no longer smelled her at all.

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Forbidden BondProluge

A very long time ago, two races ruled over earth. humans and immortals. one day, the humans declared war. they wanted the power and the immortality of the creatures. and so, a war broke out between the two races. after a long battle, many humans and immortal creatures died in battle and many were injured. but, none sides were victorious. the alli

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Airplane!

format: screenplay Title: Airplane! Credit: written by Author: David Zucker, David Zucker, Jerry Zucker > FADE IN: EXT. SKY - JUST ABOVE CLOUDS - NIGHT OMINOUS, THREATENING MUSIC. The upper tail fin of a jet plane emerges through the cloud layer and PASSES THROUGH the FRAME like a shark's fin through water. It passes by again in the opposite direction. MUSIC BUILDS
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Current setting: Very Hard

I broke my fixation on the woefully empty bottle of beer to glance down at my phone as it dinged, notifying me about an email. I sighed. Debt collectors and spam. That's all I ever got anymore. At least the latter allowed me the pleasure of pressing the fun little trashcan icon.

Would you like to change..., the preview of the subject read.

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Unaware

[WP] The apocalypse has continued for years now, but you've never noticed.

Bob was playing xbox and eating pizza. There were very few people on servers these days for some reason, and most of them were noobs, but it just made it extra fun to crush their teams.

The doorbell rang. Finally, he thought. He opened the door and a drone dropped a package of chocolate, energy drinks, and more pizza to the door. The drone was smoking and covered in splotches of red paint, but he didn't make much of it, they rarely came on time these days, and were often broken. He swiped his credit card and went back to his game.

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A Crack Slash Epilogue

This is a “Six Years Later” epilogue to Harry Potter and the Methods ofRationality by Eliezer Yudkowsky that I wrote a while and back and am just nowgetting around to posting here (it was previously posted on /r/hpmor). Itcontains ending spoilers for that story, and for six other books that have notbeen (and will not be) written. As should be c

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