#byteverse

[infernalyearning]

hey look byteverse content!

nathan aka spiderbyte belongs to @werewolfpine!

[grotesquesthetic]

did a 5-5-5 for Dana cuz he deserves an updated reference sheet 

[caffeinated-yearning]

Oh perhaps I got a wee bit carried away. Here’s some follow-up to the one that byte posted a bit ago, following Oliver’s side of things since he’s the Me One. Featuring a little of Byte and a little of the byte-verse Doctor Octavius. Tagging @werewolfpine because it’s a continuation of his fit and features a little of his S/I at the end (and also because I did do a little reformatting since the doc oop)

Word Count: ~2.2 k Warnings: violence, angsty narrative tone, probably difficult to read because it’s very stream of consciousness

- but he swung a metal bar at Byte’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Doc Ock’s tentacles, in constant motion, seemed to slow behind him at this new information. Rippled and writhed with the horror of it. “...Nate?”

Oliver glared at this person that wore the costume of New York’s beloved vigilante; glowered at this person that wore Nathan’s face in the New York night; felt downright malevolent at having guessed this twist a hundred times prior and every time having filed it away as ludicrous because there was simply no way that fate would have woven Oliver into Nathan’s foe. He was furious, because he should have known it even if it had all seemed just a little too poetic for the universe to do. He didn’t want it to be possible, which was exactly why he had discredited each piece of evidence and chosen to believe the thin and frail excuses he’d been handed.

“Listen,” Spider-Byte raised his hands to his chest- pressing them to his heart only leaves an opening, “I can explain. I… I know what you’re thinking.” Writhing, agony-stricken, claws and tentacles that lashed with unspent energy away from him. “Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but… Just-.”

A hideous rattling crunching ripping and tearing as Doc Ock pulled scaffold apart. Bitter and bitter and bitterer still. “Nathan..?” And how dare the vigilante be wearing the face of his best friend and how dare he tell Oliver that he was in the wrong and how dare he be right when Oliver had always had to be the right one before?!

How the HELL DARE HE?

“wAIT! Just-just listen to me!” And Nathan ran at Doc Ock; if Ock had his glasses still, perhaps he would see the desperation in that so-human face. A metal bar swung at Nathan’s head- get him away, get us away, get me away,- and Nathan caught it and and Nathan has had this sort of strength for who knows how long at this point. “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”

Oliver hated that perhaps worst of all; that Nate was Nathan was Spider-Byte, that he wanted to talk, that he called him by that stupid diminutive nick-name that Oliver loved because Ollie was a softer version of himself, a version that he didn’t let himself be, because he’d been taught for so long that softness was weakness. That Oliver was going to be better than most, and so he didn’t have time to be soft. Hated that Nathan had kept being Oliver’s friend despite every effort of Doc Ock to destroy Spider-Byte. He hated every blasted domino in the whole tower of his life that now came crashing down around him, and every little bread-crumb that now made perfect sense.

Oliver swiped at his eyes to clear the salt and water/dropped the metal beam still clasped in Byte’s arms/lashed out to knock Nathan off his feet in the span of three seconds. Turned tail and ran, down the streets, searching for the start of where his internal map made sense and where he could start to make his way back to his dungeon-like domain.

And tomorrow, Byte-who-is-Nathan will still be in class like he has been every other time that someone was causing a problem and the Spider had to step in, and Nathan has known who I am for months, and he still tries to save me.

-

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Doctor Octavius looked up after a moment’s pause. “Well, do you care to elaborate?”

“I… I think I’ve lost one of my dwindling few friends.”

“Well, that does sound grave.” Uncle Otto pushed his computer aside, turning to his student and nephew with one part easygoing authority figure and two parts sincerity. “From what little I’ve heard from you, you really don’t have many friends to spare, even at the best of times.”

“No.” He grit his teeth, held his breath, pressed his nails into his palms with the faint hope that they might break the skin and let him focus on something else. They didn’t, of course, because he had too strong an instinct against pain. Seconds that always seemed to pass too quickly while he struggled to say anything; “I just found out… That one of the people I considered a friend… Probably hasn’t thought of me as anything more than an enemy.” He shook his head; that wasn’t quite right. Nathan wasn’t… He wasn’t like that. “Or maybe I just… Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I made an enemy of my friend. I really am insufferable.”

“Have you spoken to this friend about this yet?”

“Not… As such.” He tried to forget that Oliver/Doc Ock/both of them/all of him had reacted so violently when the Spider had taken off its mask and revealed that the enemy of Doc Ock was the closest friend of Oliver, that both halves were the same thing, that in a world of horrible coincidences this was the worst of them all.

“Listen,” Nathan raised his hands to his chest, “I can explain. I…I know what you’re thinking. Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but…Just–”

Tried to forget that he had tried to blot it out that he had tried to get rid of it that he had tried to make it go away.

Shook like a leaf in a tempest against the emotions that he had been crushing away for years and years that burst forth at the memory- but [Oliver/Doc Ock/he/they/all] swung a metal bar at [Spider-Byte/Nathan/his sworn enemy/his closest friend]’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Otto nodded, eyes closed behind his tinted glasses. “Perhaps you ought to start with that, then.” He stopped, then added; “or rather, perhaps you should give it a little more time to settle before you do that. You don’t seem to have recovered altogether from the shock.”

Oliver gave a subtle tilt of his head. A half-nod that was all he could muster with his voice threatening to crack like glass in his throat and his body barely responding to any input from the central processor/brain. His mouth struck against incoherent shapes of half-words and syllables and desperate prayers to gods he did not believe in, and was entirely silent.

“Pull that chair over and set your backpack down. There’s no reason for you to stay standing this whole time. You don’t look like you’re in any state to leave, in any event.” It was only by a very slim recollection of sensibilities that Oliver remembered not to let his backpack fall from his shoulders with a heavy thud that even textbooks would not explain. To take it off, set it down. To turn to the chair and pull it over and set it up right and sit in it and make sure the desk was clear and set his glasses aside and then to set about the difficult task of crying in front of someone that was his superior, according to the law of school, according to the law of familial structure. Ugly, a little voice that sounded like a spider or a seraph whispered in the dark of his murky mind. How ugly it is, to cry. You are… weak and ugly, to cry. And it was, in part, calculated, like all things are- this to make him cry harder so that everything would be done with as soon as possible. It was, in part, that he didn’t have any more control over the voice that seemed to be him and not-him than he had over the actions of the people of New York, who thought that he was purely evil, who thought the world of his friend who he thought the world of and had tried to harm. “Wh-what if my-- s-sins are a-already too-o much to bear-?” he asked, in as low a voice as he could, despite the tears and the snot that were going to demand his jacket be washed tonight to prevent anyone seeing that and extrapolating anything with respect to the possibility of Oliver the iron-hearted having cried. “What if I- a-am conde-emned before I ever s-speak?”

“Then the worst case scenario is that you’ve lost a friend. And think how many more people there are; you’ll find other friends. They won’t be the same, but sometimes it can’t be helped. Sometimes you just have to accept that it’ll hurt for a long time, and that there was nothing you could do to change what already happened.” Otto put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, despite the flinch that he felt even in the midst of that much of what was certainly a humiliating experience already. “But then, that’s the worst case scenario. The best case; want to guess what that will be?”

“I want to be-e a miserable herm-mit who lives in a grotto and n-ever sees the sun.”

“Then I’ll just tell you, since you’re being a miserable little hermit right now.  The best case scenario is that it was all a misunderstanding-.”

“Due to circumstance-es that I won’t g-o into, that’s not a po-osibility.”

“-Or else it will be worked out, like a couple of adults and friends ought to do. After the dust has settled, and you can talk about it without fits of hysterics.” The weight of Otto’s palm, the heat of it, the fact that Otto didn’t try to move or change the sensation at all, so that Oliver could focus on that, keep his attention on that; pull himself out of the bog by that little lifeline that had been extended. “The best case scenario is that everything goes back to normal, or as close as it can get, and your friendship doesn’t change.”

“You’re going to tell me that the most probable thing is… Something in between.” 

“That your friendship is significantly changed, and that you’ll have to both work on fixing it, or else let it fall apart.”

“Mm.” Oliver rolled his head to one side, his whole face salt-stained and puffy with the awful fact of having cried so much in so short a time. “Are you sure I can’t just change my name and live in a cave?”

“You could, but I’d hate to see my nephew go.” Otto lifted his hand, pulled it back toward himself. “So what did happen between you and Nathan?”

Oliver flinched.

“Really, you two sit side-by-side every day and you expect me to not notice when you choose to sit on the opposite side of the classroom?” Doctor Octavius tsk-ed twice. “You ought to realize that I do have eyes by now, even if I happen to wear these glasses often.”

-

| One text message from Ollie Ollie Oxen Free |

Nathan looked at the phone blankly. A week and a half of this... of avoiding each other in every conceivable way. He had just gotten to his apartment not ten minutes ago. A week and a half of seeing, occasionally, that bubble (Ollie is typing…) and watching it vanish without anything to show for it. A week and a half of Nathan being that bubble (Nathan is typing…) with nothing to show for it, until the time between Oliver’s little attempts at speaking became days apart, and Nathan’s also slowed, and he assumed that was the end of it.

And now there was an entire text message (!) from Oliver.

What the hell did he want?

‘Have you heard of the man who spent his whole life mining through a mountain range to make sure medical care would be accessible for his village? The trip around the mountains to get a doctor from the next town over took too long and as a result his wife died. In his grief, he cut a path through, so that no one else would have to die due to the length of the path that he had had to travel. I can’t remember his name, but I think that was pretty noble of him. How strange it must be, to have death be the motive for such a drastic change in the physical world? He literally moved mountains.’

Nathan read, and re-read, and tried to figure out just what the fuck this was supposed to mean, because he was tired after a long day of classes, and he still had homework, and there was a constant threat that someone, somewhere, would decide that breaking half the city was a fine way to spend a Wednesday afternoon.

But what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Obviously it meant something, because Oliver always hid his stupid feelings under layers of allegory and associative story-telling instead of being open and honest (or perhaps that was him being as open and honest as he knew how, and if that was the case he needed to learn that sometimes saying what you mean is better than metaphors).

‘I hadn’t heard of that.’ Nathan really tried to say something more, but found that no words came. Well. At least this was almost a dialogue.

‘Do you think Doc Ock will show up in the near future? He’s been quiet for a while I think.’

And if Nathan had never heard a warning before he’d still have understood that this was one.

Spider-Byte stepped out of the window, swinging through the city without a clue as to where he had to go, but knowing he had to go somewhere soon.

[minrcrafter]

ByteVerse [Vanilla][SMP] {Whitelist}{Mature}{Community}{1.12.2}{Discord}{Backups}

Hey Everyone!

If you’re looking for a pure vanilla SMP experience, then you should definitely consider ByteVerse!

What is ByteVerse?

ByteVerse is a pure 1.12.2 vanilla server dedicated to maintaining a fun and safe environment where players from anywhere in the world can come and enjoy some vanilla minecraft! ByteVerse has no restrictions, ranks, or plugins - just pure vanilla!

Who are we looking for?

We are looking to maintain a mature community, so anyone over the age of 17 is welcome and encouraged to apply! ByteVerse is a brand-new server so there are plenty of slots available. Ultimately, we are looking to maintain peak activity levels at around 7-10 players.

Discord

We have started a Discord server for members of the server to ask questions, plan projects, talk in voice chats, and overall to have more fun. If you have sent an application in, we encourage you to join the Discord and let us know more about you in the chat channels and to chat with other players!

Discord Invite link: https://discord.gg/666nNYh

Rules

Our rules are simple:

Respect all players

Griefing and stealing are strictly prohibited

Any malicious clients are not allowed

PvP is only allowed with the consent of all parties involved

Spawn is an area reserved for community projects

Technical Server Info

• Hosted from East US

• 8GB RAM

• Intel(R) Xeon(R) CPU E5-2673 v3 @ 2.40 GHz

• Hourly world backups that are easy to restore

• DragonDropsElytra Command Block

• OnePlayerSleep Command Block

• Xisuma's More Mob Heads and Even More Mob Heads

Whitelist Application Questions

Please answer these questions in the comment section below, we will try to get back to applications as soon as possible! If you prefer, you may also apply via PMing me on discord. (Joining the discord and letting us know you’ve dropped an application may speed up the response time)

• What is your IGN?

• How old are you?

• Where are you from?

• How long have you been playing Minecraft?

• What kind of player are you?

• Anything else you would like to share!

Extra

As someone who really enjoys the technical aspects of the game, I plan on having this server have a strong focus on community projects and large technical builds, so if you are a technical player, I really encourage you to apply. If you are not a technical player we do still encourage you to apply, as we would still like to maintain a balance of play styles. The world seed has been carefully chosen and does contain a quad witch hut and a good balance of biomes extending out from spawn. Again our main goal is simply to have fun, so however you like to play is fine by us.

Server Address: play.byteverse.us

[infernalyearning]

some moodboards i did a year or so back and dont think i ever posted for byteverse!

Nathan/Spider-byte belongs to @werewolfpine !!!

CLICK THROUGH FOR BETTER QUALITY

all characters use he/him pronouns

this post is welcome to be reblogged

[infernalyearning]

“And I know that, now and forever, They'll never be able to separate Jekyll from Hyde!”

@werewolfpine posting byteverse influenced me 

[caffeinated-yearning]

The Start of Something Awful

@werewolfpine said I should post my writing and I’m doing it because I will literally never post unless someone forces me to, here’s a snippet of the lore of How Doc Ock Comes To Be, featuring my/Ock’s actual mind thought mannerisms. Technically this has only my S/I Oliver and Doctor Octavius a little at the front end, because I do my best work when it’s one character who thinks too much.

Word Count: ~1.4k Warnings: Self-harm (minor), queasiness (minor), astonishingly sarcastic narrator voice

“Hoshino.”

Oliver looks up from the box; as much as people focused on biorobotics, he rather preferred the metal things he’d been working on. None of that confusion of the ‘bio’ aspect. Cold techne and cold metal, a perfect compliment to his frozen heart. Looked up at his teacher- professor, Otto Octavius, and said nothing.

“The test results..?”

Of course! How could he possibly forget the mind-crippling endeavor of writing up a lab report for the sake of his dear professor? It would never pass off as science if he didn’t suffer the hideous toil of turning his experiment into a report; let it be known that the gods themselves would forbid anyone to simply look at the raw data and draw their own conclusions- no, he has to bring their attention to that all himself.

Ability to self-replicate- [Y] Hive mind program- [Y] Formation of simple and complex shapes- [Y] Link to human minds- concept phase. Mobile complex shapes- concept only. Modify macro chemicals within human body- tested in organic slurry, dubious results. Anything else that could be interesting- hasn’t been conceptualized yet.

“Would you call it a success?”

“If it teaches something new, it is a success.”

“Then have you been taught anything?”

Oh, doctor, do not pretend! This is all just a reinvention of the wheel at this point. Smaller and still programmable they may be, but these are all things that have been done before. They were done decades ago, before everyone found biological machinery to hold more promise. What then is there to learn? Humans disagree with metal, that has been the lesson. Oliver answers in so dry a tone; “discussion section: page three. Sir.”

“So I read.” Oliver returns his attention to his robots, still attentive to the good doctor’s words; “you sound irritated- both in the paper and at present.”

It is proper to smile and shake his head, to set the doctor’s concerns to rest. He fails this task, and in the same dry tone; “I’m not. I have concerns that this research is dated at best.”

“Then you are-.”

Interrupting, and how uncharacteristic that was- “I don’t have the time to be emotional, in any event.” The professor seemed off-put by that. Indeed, it was rude of Oliver to interrupt; he makes note of that, and fails to realize that describing himself as necessarily emotionless might instead be the reason for the doctor’s discomfort. Even the good Doctor Octavius had room to be emotional when good or ill fortune struck.

There was a pause, a little too long, before the doctor spoke- he’d turned back only to give a half-question; “I trust that you can be left alone in the lab, Oliver?”

“Yes, Dr. Octavius.” Really, this was such a dumb question. Could Oliver be trusted? Of course not; every faculty member would agree, if they only knew the contents of his mind. Which made it a rather good thing, how very skilled in keeping his thoughts under lock and key he was. Not with his friends of course. With friends you were expected to share a certain amount of information, and in turn they shared meaningless data points that helped one curry good favor if one kept it all in mind. What a fun game that was, sifting through all that data and hoping you came across anything of interest.

Ah. And he was alone. The professor had left without him noticing.

“And if I am consumed by the plague I now set loose upon the earth, thus was my fate since the moment I was born; not God nor Man could stop me or my creations; Pandora, I call upon thee.” He was alone, could he not be dramatic? The box was opened, and the robots did... Absolutely nothing.

Oh good, they hadn’t developed sentience while he acted out his drama.

A scalpel he’d pilfered from his sibling on a recent trip home; it was perhaps not the cleanest, but it would serve to sever, given he’d sharpened it against bricks and stones when he’d had a moment to do so. The only issue now was to shut down his self-preservation instincts, which barely allowed a scratch to be made against himself. But not seeing the place he would cut made easier the act, and he cut into the skin that made up the hair line just behind and below his right ear.

The incision was easier than he’d expected, perhaps because it was so much closer to his dreams’ completion than anything else had been before. He pretends to be surprised by the blood, but to what end? No one is around.

He starts his computer up, watches the robots come to life, and opens up the file “Concept_Phase.chk”. Checkpoint reached, your game will now auto-save, he hums; for the first time he feels the striking chill of fear. He thinks perhaps it is the first time in his life, but knows instinctively this cannot be the case. Either way, one error at this point would be so much more devastating.

They were crawling into that bloodied cut now. He should have worn a different shirt, but at least the black on this one might spare the rest from carrying a stain. They were a horrible itching sensation in his skin- he forces his hand stationary, to meddle now is more threatening. It is most threatening; he does not understand the limits of the human body, but he does understand the delicacy of the brain.

And they are in his brain.

That is the most terrifying part of it all, and he suppresses the urge to vomit. Brains are such delicate things and he has put so many bits of metal into his. He suppresses the urge to stand and run from this horrible thing that he has done. He stays stock still, and feels fear in every muscle and every nerve ending of his body.

And they are in his brain.

He woke up, cold, and pushed himself off the floor. Linoleum or plastic tile- didn’t matter, it was cold. He almost felt annoyance- hadn’t he been doing something? It was awfully uncharacteristic of him to sleep in the lab. The computer lab, maybe, but this wasn’t that.

Oh fuck the robots and the cut- he grasps at his neck, drawing his hand away with the full expectation to pull away half-scabbed gunk, or blood still running. Nothing. He sighed. Maybe it was another dream- maybe he was still dreaming. Dreaming of being something worthy of pride and love, instead of the falsehood he’d built himself into. Of being a worthwhile investment on the part of his parents and friends. Of being something better than this, whatever this was.

Log onto his computer- and how very strange! He’d never run the checkpoint file before, if it was a dream, so why was there a .log version now? It was suddenly beginning to feel very much not like a dream. Uneasiness, like so many maggots in his stomach, seemed to eat at him. He reached up and closed the box that had once been the house of his pride, and scanned over the .log file.

Program terminated successfully.

Oh thank the gods and devils both. It was successful.

But they were in his brain, now. Theoretically, he should be able to interact with them, if all had gone according to plan. He tried not to think about how unsanitary last night’s actions were, or rather to think about that instead of the presence of so much non-biological material now swarming around in his skull. He could feel the crawling- the sensation of parasites under his skin, but how much of that was simply psychological? He couldn’t say.

“Not nearly enough time to run any sort of experiment on them,” he sighed; class would begin soon. Sure, he was already in the building, but still. “How disappointing. How many are left in there?” He finally bothered to stand up and check the box; maybe if he… tried to input commands to those ones? There were still plenty in there; doesn’t take that much metal to make a computer chip inside one’s head then.

They stirred, sluggish and confused. They had never moved of their own accord before... Responsive? Again, move again- and they did. They swayed with little ripples, ocean waves almost.

Link to human minds- [Y].

[infernalyearning]

Ngl, I’m a really big fan of Nightwatch and Megatron like I LIVE for content of them. I also really really enjoy Alex, Ryoma, and Eddie!!!!

i always seem to get at least one request for megatron everytime i reblog an ask meme so i think he’s a fan favorite among my ships! 

(not that im complaining, there’s a reason i love talking about him! hes super high on my f/o list in terms of favoritism since ive liked him for so long, i adore him and im glad everyone else likes my ship too!!) i have to own my crushes on Alex and Ryoma to you!! you’re the one who got me into SDV and FE and you let me play Fates; without you i might never have met them!

[grotesquesthetic]

two short comics of byteverse nonsense

first comic is based on a scene in bojack horseman

[minrcrafter]

Byteverse [Vanilla] [SMP] {Whitelist}{Community}{Mature}{1.12.2}{Discord}{Backups}{Technical}

Hey Everyone!

If you’re looking for a pure vanilla SMP experience, then you should definitely consider ByteVerse!

What is ByteVerse?

ByteVerse is a pure 1.12.2 vanilla server dedicated to maintaining a fun and safe environment where players from anywhere in the world can come and enjoy some vanilla minecraft! ByteVerse has no restrictions, ranks, or plugins - just pure vanilla!

Who are we looking for?

We are looking to maintain a mature community, so anyone over the age of 17 is welcome and encouraged to apply! ByteVerse is a brand-new server so there are plenty of slots available. Ultimately, we are looking to maintain peak activity levels at around 7-10 players.

Discord

We have started a Discord server for members of the server to ask questions, plan projects, talk in voice chats, and overall to have more fun. If you have sent an application in, we encourage you to join the Discord and let us know more about you in the chat channels and to chat with other players!

Discord Invite link: https://discord.gg/666nNYh

Rules

Our rules are simple:

Respect all players

Griefing and stealing are strictly prohibited

Any malicious clients are not allowed

PvP is only allowed with the consent of all parties involved

Spawn is an area reserved for community projects

Technical Server Info

• Hosted from East US

• 8GB RAM

• Intel(R) Xeon(R) CPU E5-2673 v3 @ 2.40 GHz

• Hourly world backups that are easy to restore

• DragonDropsElytra Command Block

• OnePlayerSleep Command Block

• Xisuma's More Mob Heads and Even More Mob Heads

Whitelist Application Questions

Please answer these questions in the comment section below, we will try to get back to applications as soon as possible! If you prefer, you may also apply via PMing me on discord. (Joining the discord and letting us know you’ve dropped an application may speed up the response time)

• What is your IGN?

• How old are you?

• Where are you from?

• What kind of player are you?

• Anything else you would like to share!

Extra

As someone who really enjoys the technical aspects of the game, I plan on having this server have a strong focus on community projects and large technical builds, so if you are a technical player, I really encourage you to apply. If you are not a technical player we do still encourage you to apply, as we would still like to maintain a balance of play styles. The world seed has been carefully chosen and does contain a quad witch hut and a good balance of biomes extending out from spawn. Again our main goal is simply to have fun, so however you like to play is fine by us.

Server Address: play.byteverse.us