Unusual Password Systems

A note to the young at age: Some of you may only think of passwords as a mildly annoying security function to be dealt with by auto-fill, but back in the old days passwords were used to record progress in video games, sometimes to humorous results.

A lot of passwords in the old console era were only about 16 characters long. Some were as short as 4, and a few were much longer. Legend of the Mystical Ninja (SNES) for instance had a 60 character password using both upper and lower case letters, numbers, AND special characters! Ugh, what a chore.

I was recently playing an NES title named Faxandu, a side-scrolling RPG/adventure game that I'd heard of many times but never seen in action before. I was amazed by the ingenuity and flaws in the passwords. In Faxandu, you must go to a town sage to receive a password. The passwords record which town you are in, what items you have, and your Title. “What’s a title,” you ask?

As you gain experience and levels you reach certain benchmarks where the same sages in each town will bestow you with a title. Rather than recording your exact experience points or even your level the passwords you take record your current title. Each title is set to a specific amount of experience and gold that you start with when enter your current password. So for instance let’s say your current title provides you with 5,000 experience and 3,000 gold. If you have anything more than those amounts when you stop playing, you lose anything ‘extra’ when you return. However, because these amounts are set, if you have LESS than 3,000 gold when you take a password (say because you just spent it all on healing items), then you can stop, reset, re-enter the password, and magically be back up to 3,000 gold.

At first I thought this was just some crazy idea to be innovative, but then I thought about what a password does. Faxandu’s passwords are already 32 characters long. If they had to record exact numeric values for experience and gold through cryptic lettering then the passwords would be huge. Instead, the password only needs to use enough characters to know your title which the program can use to reference static numbers for your progress. So, while it is EXTREMELY easy to exploit, this was actual a very clever solution for such an early RPG(-ish) game.

I have to assume that these kinds of password issues are a big part of why traditional RPG simulation titles never became big until the battery powered save files were introduced. Thank god for save files, but these kinds of bizarre quirks are one of the things I miss most about older games.

I simply refuse to accept that.

As far as I am concerned, the following films do not exist until a sequel admits that they were simply dream sequences, as that is the only context in which I can accept them.

Alien3 (and therefore...)
Alien: Resurrection (though it tried it's best with what it had to work with.)
Star Wars: Episodes 1, 2, and 3
The Hitcher 2
The Exorcist 2
Fright Night 2
Mortal Kombat: Annihilation

I feel like something's missing...
There may be a sequel to this post.

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part IX

Here I am back at the museum. Karson told me that key-gel capsules never existed. I’ll have to use a lock-pick gun. Hopefully, Mathews assumes I’m in Arkham. I should surprise him. If not, there’s the M203. And they said it was pointless to keep one around the house.
There’re new guards, but no time for subtlety. This is it.
::BLAM! BLAM!::
No mercy for the wicked. Have to move in fast now.
“Mathews! It’s over. Get rid of that thing and shut down the device!” Great beyond, it’s worse than I remembered it.
It’s like some mammoth carnivorous jar-plant overflowing with tendrils, yet it has a reptilian quality. But that bulb on top is the worst part, pulsating with that sickening violet light!
I was right, Mathews is surprised, “Dueller! Why?! No matter; Ichsrloj, erase him!”
Go time. Sling the M203 under my arm, aim for that hellish bulb, and launch a grenade!
::THUP! hooooo-POW!::
It’s amazing how immediately I regret that. Instead of its flesh exploding, it has exploded with more flesh. The bulb expanded chaotically like a malignant tumor seen in time-lapse, then burst forth with countless more tendrils, each baring a bulb. What have I done? I understand now what it is I hate so much about that… those bulbs. They’re what let it rewrite reality, and now it’s going haywire.
It’s freaking out too, I think. The walls are convulsing with mutations of form to break Euclidean’s heart as reality seems to vomit new laws continuously. New spacial dimensions warp the battlefield incomprehensibly.
I would take advantage of it to get across the room to the Spire of Sobek and remove the coin, but everything’s changing so rapidly I can’t. The thing has found its balance. It seems to move by spinning like a leaning top, making it reel towards me.
Okay, new scene, old idea, “COME ON, FREAK!”
::BLAM! BLAM!::
“SHOW ME WHAT YOU’VE GOT!” Have to maneuver carefully, and pray to god it only strikes me instead of grabbing.
“Z’GREEEEEX!”
::THWAP!::
“UGH!” Yes! It threw me the right way. Land into a slide, hands steady. Fire! ::BLAM!::
I wind up at the Spire and shoot the coin, hoping some good will come of it. It pays off. As I watch the coin slide up and off into the air, flipping over and over, Mathews screams madly and the thing strobe’s with sound. The coin goes straight back down on the Spire, but it’s reversed. No chance that’s luck or skill.
The gate immediately begins drawing the creature in like a vortex. I have to get away fast, before it gets me too. No time to watch and double-check anything.
Outside, I can see the whole building folding in, then all stops. The gate must have stopped when the Spire got pulled through. It’s over. The thing is gone. Mathews is gone. What Am I forgetting?
“Agent Dueller, I’m sorry.” Oh, Karson.
::BLAM! BLAM!::

Well, can’t say I blame him. What a beautiful light.

Doublemint!

That's right, it's Two Times Tuesday!

My apologies to anyone whose looking for having missed last Thursday's installment. I've been wearing myself too thin to keep up with the kids and etc etc blah blah yadda yadda you know what I mean, right?

Anyway, I've got to have at least nine prts to this thing, right? So, Witrh a little extra coffee and determination I pounded out one late last night and the other this morning. So I guess the last one will be ... Let's call it Friday just to be safe, but hope that it come "early" on Thursday.

Also, I haven't been commenting on anyone else's stories because I just haven't been at the computer long enough to read them, but I'll catch up on that too. I'm dying to know what's going on in some of these! Best of luck to all (and myself), see you on the other side! (Of the project)

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part VIII

Mathews isn’t done yet. He’s gonna call every one of those damnable abominations to the gate he opened using the Spire of Sobek. There’s no knowing how many there are, but if they can alter physics just be looking at it then it wouldn’t take many to completely warp our reality to their blasphemous whim. Why would anyone want to worship these things? I’ll never understand cultists.
I’m banking he’s still got everything set up at the museum. I better head there immediately. They told me Gerrits never worked there, and they haven’t received any new inventory in years, but they’re all liars. Somehow Mathews has got everyone lying to me to cover this up. My old partner, Karson, was one of the truest and most loyal people I’ve ever known, but even he’s full of sh—wait, is he?
Oh god. The planar wraiths can alter reality. Maybe it’s all been changed. I’m not crazy, and there’s no cover up or conspiracy. All my memories are real, but none of them ever happened to me. Mathews and that creature have made it all true so that I look crazy. Or, if my memories are all based on a reality that no longer exists, then am I crazy?
That would mean Karson’s not a traitor. He’s the same as he’s always been, and he’s going to come after me. He’s going to go for blood, because I really am a murderous lunatic. Do I even have any right to stop him?
Stop it! That’s nonsense! Even if all that’s true, I’m still justified, because I know the truth. Hmm, I know …. If that thing used its mind to alter my reality, then maybe it left some extra stuff in my mind. That would explain all the strange things that have been popping into my head.
Hey! If I really am still CIA, then maybe my old house is still there! It was in my brother’s name, so there’d be no reason to sell it when I “went crazy.” He never used it either, it'd be just the way I left it! I’m making a stop before the museum. This could be very helpful.

Ah, home sweet home. Now let’s see, a spare key should be … taped inside the door above the mail slot … YES! Wow, I had a lot of cheesy 80’s stuff. No time for nostalgia. The equipment room should still have all my old gear.
::COUGH! COUGH!:: Ech, I’ve never seen dust like this.
Okay, I gotta remember this: Set the radio to AM 1066 … reverse the window blinds … and pull on this hanging lamp …
::K-TUNG! Cree-eek::
Hidden room revealed! What have I got in here? 9mm, flak vest, radio jammer … alright, I’m as ready as I’m gonna be now. It’s time to high-tail it to the museum and stop an apocalypse … I do sound crazy. But then if I wasn’t, I might give up.

The investigation of Pro. Elwood Gerrits: Part VII

Options: museum, university.
If I’m right about the body-morph, then Mathews may still be living at ‘Professor Gerrits’s’ home, which should be in the university’s records.
If that … entity is still around, then it might use the museum as a base, if it even thinks that way. Mathews might be with it. Although, if I can avoid confronting the planar wraith, I’d prefer—whoa, where did I get ‘planar wraith?’
“Planar wraith: a conglomerate of displaced spirits merged through anmitosis in limbo, taking uncertain abstract physical form or possessing a mortal, and adept with reverse perception in the prior,” UGH, my head! Why do I know all this? I’m not sure what’s worse: what the thing is or the fact that I know. What is ‘reverse perception?’
“…” oh, sure, now I can’t have random information.
I think I’ll start at the university, after dark.

I couldn’t find any real burgling tools while waiting for nightfall. I’ll have to go in the old fashioned way, which will probably set off an alarm. Fortunately, I noticed where the records are when I was in Dean Crowley’s office. Let’s see them explain that with me in an asylum.
This looks like a good spot; it’s well obscured and near the office. Alright, time to … notice an open window? That’s … disturbingly helpful, but I’ll take it. I’m in. The office should be this way.
What? Come on, Crowley! What do you need with a network linked electric door lock? I’ll have to log into his secretary’s PC. Let’s try the WarGames method. Not the cabinet … or under the desk … ah! Her password post-it is inside the drawer. I love human flaws.
Log in … security admin … entries … office …
::click::
Files on left, employee records: A, B, C, D, E, F, H, I—eeexcuse me? Somebody took the whole G section. They were either in a hurry, or extremely cavalier. It’s probably pointless, but I’ll check the computer. Yup, someone actually deleted the entire file tree.
I wonder if Google knows about “reverse perception” or “anmitosis”… nope. As long as I’m here, I’ll see if their infamous occult library can help. I can unlock it from here.
Even the hallways are creepy. Here. There’s occult science. These ought to be covered in Tobin’s edition of the necronomicon … this random knowledge is starting to bother me.
There it is, “Anmitosis: an involuntary process by which multiple objects are forced by the absence of relative spacial dimensions to combine into a singular form; common amongst spirits trapped between planes.”
That’s disturbing. How about, “Reverse perception: possessed by humans at such a low degree as to be generally uncredited; the altering of physical laws through forcefully re-interpretive observation; sends information out to reality as opposed to receiving it; a defining characteristic of planar wraiths.”
Whoa, there’s a ritual to form a “summoning beacon” which brings all planar-wraiths to an open plane-gate … which is torn out.

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part VI

It’s 02:57 hours. The night check should be coming soon. I can’t wait any longer. I have to make my move now. I wish I understood more about what’s going on though.
The more I talk with Karson and my doctor, the less sense either version of my past makes. Now they’re telling me the museum hasn’t received new inventory in over a decade. So why was Professor Gerrits even there? If I’ve been committed and incoherent all this time, how did I manage to track down a professor who specializes in Derrick Mathews’ same interests then plan and execute his murder all in one day? Even their story is falling apart. OH! Here he comes, time to play crazy.
“AHHH! IT’S HERE! IT’S COME BACK FOR ME! HELP! IT’S A MONSTER!” Add in some shadow boxing with the ‘thing,’ and we have a complete hallucination scene.
“Gary! Bring a sedative! This guy’s losing it!” This is the wrong line of work for him. He’s in panic, which is going to make overtaking them much easier.
“Okay, Dueller, hold still!” Fat chance, pal. First the needle needs to go. Dislocate the shoulder.
::CRACK-POP!:: “GAH!”
Your turn, I can’t have you picking it up. Hard strike at the base of the skull.
::THWAK!:: “AH—…”
Now finish Gary, before he regains composure and calls back-up.
“I’m using a sleeper hold on you instead of a quick knock-out because I need you to listen but not scream. I’m not crazy, but I am former CIA. I haven’t killed anyone, but I will if I have to. Tell doctor Petrov everyone will be better off if you all forget I was ever here. Goodnight.”
A little struggle was expected, so the rest of the noises will be written off by anyone who heard. Time is short to take advantage of that. Get the keys and the sedative … head to the end of the hall … and use a service entrance. This is too easy. I’m out.
Go to the back streets. Find a bum, “Hey, I’ll give you what’s in this syringe for your pants and coat.”
“What is it?” He looks pathetic, but there’s no time for pity.
“Does it matter?” I’m glad he’s accepted that. A little extra sleep won’t hurt him anyway.
I’ve got some time to think while I find a hideout and re-organize. I figure either I am crazy now and I’ve been perceiving things wrong since the museum, or there’s a conspiracy against me that involves my own partner. That’s an unfortunate pair to have to distinguish, since any good CIA cover-up will have hidden the evidence to tell them apart. I can assume that if I ever was a private investigator, I’m not now. There’s only one thing that can solve all my problems now. I have to find Derrick Mathews, and he has to be alive. But if he finally got what he wanted, then where do I start looking?

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part V

Karson is coming again today. It’s been almost daily for three weeks. He’s been researching leads for me, and he helped convince the staff to let me read my file. All I’ve found are more questions and a gnawing in my mind that I’m really not crazy, despite evidence to the contrary. That’s what they all say around here, though.
“Good morning, Dueller.” There he is.
I wonder how long he’ll endure me, “Hi, Karson. I’m sorry to do this, but I gotta take it from the top again. Something’s missing. I know it.”
::sigh:: “Alright, Dueller. We tracked an occultist named Derrick Mathews to Kom Ombo, Egypt. We split up and I found you convulsing and babbling in the temple. Even after you stabilized, you didn’t make any sense, and you were committed here at Arkham. Mathews hasn’t been seen since. That was eighteen years ago.”
If only I could remember what really happened then, “And I stayed that way until three weeks ago?”
“Yes,” I can see he’s getting bored and maybe a little sad too, “You escaped, brutally murdered a Professor from Miskatonic University who was doing research at the Pickman Memorial Museum along with a guard. You were found unconscious and blood soaked in the back ally of the museum and returned here. The next morning you started talking coherently for the first time since Kom Ombo.”
I couldn’t have done that. I shot him and he didn’t bleed, “So the last eighteen years of being a private investigator is all what, a fabrication of my mind?”
“Doctor Petrov believes you concocted it subconsciously the night of the murders as a coping mechanism. I checked with the business bureau. You’ve never held a P.I. license. No one at Miskatonic or the museum remembers ever meeting you, and Professor Gerrits was never missing. There were some odd coincidences with the other cases you mentioned working, but none of the clients you named know who you are,” That doesn’t leave me much to work with, Karson.
“Okay, now let me think …” What’s missing? “Wait a minute! How do they know who I killed?”
“There was enough carrion for two bodies, and Gerrits and the guard are missing.”
That’s it! “There were two guards, Karson! I didn’t kill Gerrits at all!”
He’s not impressed, “Then why hasn’t anyone heard from him?”
“There never was an Elwood Gerrits! It was Mathews! That day at the temple he summoned something into himself and it changed him; that’s how he disappeared!” I’m losing his interest, but I’m figuring it all out, “He finally freed it from himself at the museum, and now he’s changed back, making ‘Gerrits’ disappear!”
“That’s great, Dueller,” he doesn’t believe me, “Unfortunately it’s not a theory that will get you out of here, and now that you’re cognizant they’ll prosecute you for the murders properly.”
It doesn’t matter now. I know who I’m looking for. It’s time for a real escape!

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part IV

As I groggily awaken, my throbbing head pounds out the question, ‘what happened last night?’ I’m home in bed. That hasn’t happened in awhile. Wait, why is there sound-proofing on my walls? This isn’t my room.
Ohhh, my head! I’m so bleary. Well, it’s certainly spartan in here. There’s just the bed, padded walls, a barred window, and a steel door … locked from outside. No. “No, NO! HELLO?! I’m not a crazy person! You can release me! How did I get here!? Somebody!? Let me out of here, immediately! I am NOT insane!”
“Dueller?” Finally, a guard!
“There’s been a mistake. I need to speak to a doctor about getting out of here.” That was polite. Guards like polite. This should be quick.
“You picked a weird time to start talking. I’ll get doctor Petrov.”
How did this happen? I was looking for Professor Gerrits. I found him working in secret on some ritual. Then … ohhhh … what was that thing that came out of his body? Then he changed into … Derrick Mathews, the man I hunted through Egypt back with the CIA! It must have been him the whole time, but that other creature was … unfathomable!
I hear footsteps. Please be a reasonable minded doctor, “Hello, Dueller. How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been kidnapped, no offense. I don’t know how I got here, but I know I’m not insane. Could you explain why I’m here, while filing my release papers…” or we could just skip to the last part, really.
“Hmm. I’m afraid I won’t be allowed to speak with you until Agent Karson arrives. I’ll send for him immediately. Please, try to relax until then.” What? No!
“Whoa, wait! I’m sorry, but that shouldn’t be necessary. Actually, that doesn’t even make sense. In fact, who is this ‘Agent Karson’ of which you speak?” Oh, right, I really ought to deny knowing anything about agents until I know what he knows. It’s been awhile.
“You needn’t be coy, Agent Dueller. The CIA’s involvement in your case has been quite heavy-handed. I’m not permitted to treat you or discuss your case without your partner in the room. He’s been relocated here, so he’ll arrive shortly. I can explain everything then.” He’s acting cool, but he’s clearly afraid of something. Well, looks like more waiting. Huzzah.

“Dueller?” FINALLY! He’s here!
“Karson! Tell them I’m not crazy, so we can get out of here, would ya?”
That’s not a happy face, “It’s not that simple Dueller. You can’t just wake up one day and not be crazy, especially now.”
“What are you talking about? I saw something bizarre last night and I fainted. Now I’m crazy all of a sudden?! Why is the Agency handling my case, anyway? I haven’t had government insurance since I became a P.I.”

He looks very disappointed, “Listen to me. You’ve been here at Arkham for the last eighteen years, and you’ve never been a private investigator.”

The Investigation of Prof. Elwood Gerrits: Part III

So, Professor Gerrits wasn't kidnapped. He's just a cult priest using ancient artifacts in a secret ritual, and he has lackeys that’ll wake up in about five minutes. Things could be worse.
From what I know of cults, I'd best find out what his goal is before shutting him down. It’s easier to stop others from following behind him that way. What’s he working with?
A lot of this stuff seemed familiar when I poked around earlier. Almost like I've read about them but not actually seen them. The only time I would've done that was when tracking Derrick Mathews in Kom Ombo. But why would I have read about ALL of this? And what would Gerrits need with such an eclectic set? He's got Marsh's Marceline (labeled 'DO NOT UNVEIL!'), diagrams of planar wraiths, Zahn's violin, an emerald bird-cage, a dozen grotesque statuettes, the Spire of Sobek, the silver key—hold on, Sobek?
The temple in Kom Ombo was dedicated to Sobek. He had a ... crocodile's head! Mathews was there for the Spire and something else. It was a … large disk with a hole, like an oversized Yen coin. I don’t see it, but I’ll bet Gerrits has it on him.
Thinking about the fact that eighteen years of droll existence has lead me back to this leaves me with an uncomfortable feeling. It’s almost as though I never stopped working that case. Like I’ve been hiding out, laying in wait for some certain moment. And this is it, he’s taking out the disk!
Weapon ready, “STOP! Put the disk down, and back away slowly, Gerrits, or I will fire,” he doesn’t look a bit surprised or angry. I don’t like that.
“Agent Dueller, how nice of you to join us. We’ve waited a long time for this reunion,” Agent? Reunion? I’m liking this less and less.
“I’m a bit embarrassed, Professor. I don’t recall meeting you before.”
“The appearance has changed a bit since we’ve been together, but you’ll soon recognize it. We are about to part at last.” What on earth is he babbling about? Where is this ‘we?’
Enough chit-chat, “Put the disk down, now, or I’m going to open fire!”
“Master! Are you alright?” oh great, the guards are awake already.
“Yes. Take care of our guest, please,” sorry Prof., bullets are faster than legs.
::BANG! BANG!::
What?! He’s not even flinching, and the guards are on me, “NO! LET GO!” He’s placing the disk on the spire. I’m too late!
“You interrupted us before, forcing me to co-inhabit this frail flesh. Now, you will see!” He’s changing! His face … it’s Mathews! There’s something … coming out of him?
Dear lord, that’s not possible. I don’t even understand what I’m seeing. How could such a thing exist? It’s terrifying, and just looking at it is so confusing it hurts! I feel like my mind may just—
::snap::