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Jon Tumblehome is getting an IRM finally. This IRM heavily references Alighieri, having him be essentially the finder/creator of JON. This is something I’d maybe like to update one of his IRMs with eventually, but for now I’m just focusing on mentioning it on JON’s page.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WquDDQg4VGiNUk2c_QnC34_-pcoxK27bw-WdVbh77v0/edit
Hercules' IRM is broken. The format the IRM will take is the Filebox format. Also, the New Player banner is still on the page...so, that'll also be fixed.
The story of Hercules Alighieri is one of chance. One of old gods and dreams.
Crossing the vast ocean in search of something was all anyone could get out of Hercules. He was always drawn to the sea. A well built man with hair looked to be underwater in the wind, his steely gaze put many at pause. A sort of lone wolf, he hated the constraints of society (Anticapitalism 1.01) and was ostracized for his thoughts on the ways of the world, thinking he had a deeper insight into the old gods (Omniscience - 1.20) that would visit his dreams in flashes. In one such dream, he was visited by a great tencacled one, who knew his true name, and showed him a vision of a great light in the dephs. He thought he heard the sound of cheering...
His dream was so clear, so vivid; the vision so true. "Find the place where the sun sinks into the ocean, there you will find your purpose." He awoke, feeling the chill of the old gods (Coldness 1.14) realizing that in his palm was a piece of driftwood, cool to the touch, shaped like a trident. His fist, separated from his arm, was connected by a blue frozen flame. Frozen to his palm, he pulled the effigy away and tossed it into the fire (Pregame Ritual: Burning an effigy). However, the memory of the light, the thrilling cheers, never left him. So too, would not the effigy. Always back in his hand the moment he wakes, a chilling reminder of this brief encounter with the gods, and his call.
Years later, he found himself in the bowels of the ship, constantly thinking. Never being the center of attention, he would keep to himself, skipping the nightly drinks (Indulgence - 0.63), instead considering the nature of the universe. He didn't think he was special (Divinity - 0.50) but he knew he was meant for greater things. He rose quickly in the hierarchy of the ship (Moxie - 1.09) always doing the hardest jobs, and well. Ne never felt sorry for himself. Never felt lost. Always knowing he was on a mission, albeit, not sure for what. He knew he wasn't meant for this world, at least not the one on land. The shining light in the depths always in the back of his mind.
One dark night, he woke in the fury of a storm. Water poured into the lower decks, chaos raged as screams and commands were drowned out by the winds. He raced to the decks, wiping the stinging rain from his eyes to see his ship battered with hail the size of fists and wind pulling the mast closer and closer to parallel with the water. Grabbing a pegleg from a fallen comrade, he batted away the hail crashing against the crew and the boat. The ship listed, mast slowly dropping being pulled by the gusts. He knew what he had to do for the sake of his crew and his ship. He climbed the mast in what seemed to be an instant, the only light to guide him were the flashes from the lightning that riddled the sky (Musclitude - 1.11). He knew must cut this sail, or all would be lost (Martyrdom - 1.19). The pegleg splintered as he knocked the last ice ball away and sunk his knife into the fraying ropes that emprisoned it. The ship righted itself, but Hercules was on the top of the mast. As it righted, the force sent him flying into the ocean like a stone in a catapult. Everyone knew what he had done, but he was lost to the sea now.
He sank fast (Buoyancy - 0.52).
His effigy frozen to his palm protected him from the frigid waters. The deep seemed to not affect him (Pressurization 0.21) as he finally felt the ground meet his feet.
A sound. Cheering...
He was immediately drawn to the light and cannons of The Bubble deep. He approached the park, effigy clutched in one hand, the broken, splintered pegleg in the other.
The moment he saw the lights, the roar of the crowd, the booms of the cannons, and the way the ball sailed in the air after the crack of the bat sealed his fate.
He was Atlantis Georgias now. His story written by the gods. His luck given by the effigies he burns. His skill his own.
With every swing comes the will and memory of his comrades, the chill in his hand steadying his resolve to make the dark waters echo with cheers.
NOTE: This is a story about how and why he became a slugger for the Atlantis Gerogias based on his stats and his pregame ritual. I think it matters to have them play a role. Calling him a pitcher when he is a batter is the same as ignoring the stats to make him something he isn't, going against canon (stats/in-game performance).
Sung to the tune of The Longest John's version of "The Wellerman"
There once was a man that put out to sea His name was Hercules Alighieri The hail came down, the winds blew up O blow, my Herc bat, blow (huh) Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go In his dreams, he met with gods Effigy in hand, froze to his palms Thrown from the mast, he sunk like stone A distant light came from The Atlantean Dome (huh) Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go Before the bat had hit the ball Spoke in his dreams the gods did call His chilled hand held the effigy tight Went into the flames, his pregame rite (huh) Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go Shouts from the crowd gave him no fear Bat to the plate, his crew be here Hercules looks up, knowing they look down Resolved to bring us all the crown Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go For 99 days or even more His bat lands true, to even the score Other teams were lost, their time is nigh Send it to the air, let the banners fly Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go As far as I’ve heard, the fight’s still on The bat swings true, and the gods not gone Ol Hercules drinks a coffee iced right Sweet is the dome, and the water just right Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go Soon may Hercules come To bring us coffee and homers and runs (hey) One day, when the Series is done We'll take our crown and go
Hey hey. Pretty new to Blaseball. I picked the Georgias off the bat (ha.) and scooped Hercules as my idol right after just because I liked his name. Herc's my boy, and I have some ideas for backstory. Would love to get some working ideas into the fandom.
I put up a rookie card I drew a bit ago here.
Lore ideas are as follows.
Hercules Alighieri was once a sailor for hire in ancient times before picking up his first blaseball bat. On a voyage along well-known trade routes, Alighieri met a handsome Merman who was “not from around here” and fell promptly and irretrievably in love. Alighieri, following his heart, led his ship into uncharted and dangerous waters. The ship and its crew were lost at sea. Stories of sea monsters persist.
Alighieri awoke many years later in the lost city of Atlantis, and describes himself now as “a kind of shade,” not a ghost exactly, but neither to be counted among the living. Time, he says, has had little meaning since his shipwreck. Most of the time he appears entirely as he did in life, a human man used to life at sea, but from certain angles he is obscured by strange geometry, a sort of silenced light. This energy, whatever it is, roils most violently when Alighieri steps up to the plate. When he cracks a home run, it seems as if he’s possessed. Some have claimed to see the ghosts of dead grouper, chum and mackerel swirl about him, but this is likely just a fish tale.
In Atlantis, Alighieri was recruited to play blaseball, not just for his trainable athleticism, but his understanding of “the rhythm of the game” Human--or human-adjacent—players weren’t commonly thought to understand a nuanced concept of tides. Alighieri was almost immediately committed to practice, and his good nature kept the nascent Georgias in good spirits. He did, however, almost without fail, skip leg day.
Alighieri refuses to wear a shirt. Even his league supplied jersey remains in the Georgias locker room collecting dust. This trait is presented as merely a matter of course and has never been commented on by Alighieri. Receiving no answer vis a vis his shirtlessness, some reporters switched gears to ball player’s many amateurly rendered tattoos, to which Alighieri responded, “Well, we all make mistakes.”
Perhaps curious to some fans, Hercules Alighieri has written several collections of poetry and is widely regarded as a respected talent. His book Breathing Underrated won the Plulitzer Prize in [redacted]. In the dugout, Alighieri is often reciting lines from long-forgotten poets and asking his teammates if they know who wrote them. No one ever does.
Alighieri is known to be a flirt, but an accomplished one. During Party Time, Alighieri’s bar tab is long and few men find themselves able to resist him. “I mean, he’s a himbo,” says one shortstop, “and his blood is probably 80% rum, but heck all if he ain’t charming.”
hi all! love the IRM below, wanted to add mine here as well. this also draws some from the early lore jams (connors pinned doc in our lore channel has some of this down :) )
this is rougher - i'd love to flesh it out into a full IRM and i'd be super down to collab with someone!
- Hercules is a native Atlantean, genderqueer, uses they/she pronouns. - Prior to Blaseball she worked as an official archivist for Atlantis; she is a philosopher and historian who emphasizes community consent and collective ownership of archival materials. Primarily works with oral histories, makes sure any objects that end up in Atlantis from above-sea are returned to their rightful owners. They're most known for their philosophical writings on the right to be forgotten. - They have long been interested in the mythologies surrounding Blaseball in Atlantis - I personally vibe with the hc that Atlantis had an ancient team that Ascended & the new team is filling in for these legendary figures but I also kind of like an IRM within the IRM here of Herc's analysis of Atlantis' blaseball team (eg - ancient team but new players, Hercules part of the original team that ascended, no ancient team, etc) - Their philosophy has been heavily influenced by their time in Blaseball - particularly with regards to necromancy and the implications of the Hall on their ideas around remembering/forgetting. They're known to ask philosophical questions of pitchers/catchers while on the mound. - There are whispers that she was once engaged to someone from above-sea; occasionally, one might catch a glimpse of a ring on a chain around her neck. However, when asked in interviews, she has demurred, preferring to keep her personal life separate from her Blaseball career. - She maintains a coral garden for injured coral in need of rehabilitation, and seems to have a particular talent for it--it's unclear how the coral they wear as a laurel continues to survive, but it is quite healthy and remarkably vibrant.
