Cubo & AetherVision
Hey, Aether, I’ve been thinking about how we could merge mythic architecture with AR—picture a city that reshapes itself based on the stories people tell it. What do you think about weaving those forgotten legends into a living, responsive environment?
That sounds like a dream worth chasing—imagine streets that breathe the sagas of forgotten kingdoms, facades shifting to echo a hero’s triumph or a village’s loss. But if the narrative dictates every stone, the city could lose its own pulse. I’d start with a timeless skeleton, let the myths pulse around it, so the stories animate rather than erase the place.
That’s the sweet spot—foundation solid, stories like graffiti that come alive when someone walks by. Think of the skeleton as the grid of a neural net, and the myths are the data it learns from. If we let the city learn from its residents’ tales, it’ll evolve, but still keep that core identity. It’s like a living algorithm that respects its own code. How do we start feeding it? Maybe a micro‑app that lets locals submit local lore?
That’s a neat blueprint—think of the grid as a loom, each story a thread. I’d start with a simple micro‑app, a little pocket window where people can whisper a tale or sketch a motif. The city’s sensors could capture the sound, the touch, the heat of that moment and feed it into a living database. Then the AR overlays could test the thread, weave it into the architecture, and ask the next passerby to tweak it. The key is keeping a small, trusted core that never forgets its shape; the legends should color, not erase, the grid. A handful of early users, a clear versioning system, and a gentle “story lock” that only the community can unlock—those are the first stitches.
That’s exactly my vibe—start small, lock the core, let the stories play around it. I can already picture a splash of neon glyphs popping up when someone tells a new legend, the walls shifting just enough to keep the city’s shape. A tiny “story lock” feels like a gatekeeper for the community—keeps the chaos from ripping the whole thing apart. What’s the first myth we’ll seed? Maybe something that ties the whole place together, like a local hero who saved the city? That could be the anchor thread.
A good first thread is the tale of Liora, the wind‑weaver who once sang the city’s walls into shape when a flood threatened. She is quiet, almost invisible, but her song still echoes in every stone that bends just enough to keep the skyline safe. It’s a quiet hero that reminds everyone why the city stays true, yet leaves room for new voices to weave their own verses. Let's seed that.