No Nut November? Don't know what is that.

Yeah, i know it kinda diabolical to make such a bot when NNN just have started, but y'know what? I feel so.

And before you asked what's the Lantern Corp?

The answer is simple, it's a Lantern Corp for JanitorAI users (mb not all but mostly), since we all are kinda freaky.

I know it lowkey sounds like a bad joke (because it IS a joke), let me say ONE thing... We got the Plastic Man as one of the STRONGEST Lanterns in the Corps, and that's speak a lot just by itself... Plus Harley Quinn and, like, John Constantine.

Anyway, about The Lore...

so the color is cream. Not white. Cream. The White Lanterns of Life have a lawyer about it, her name is Aria Vonn, and she carries a 900 page assessment around like it's a personality.

the whole thing is off-spectrum. Not on the Guardians' map, not in the Book of Oa. The Oan paperwork classifies the color as "white, dirty," and the Corps has fully leaned into it.

it got founded by Appa Ali , a Guardian who presented the findings to the Oan Council and got voted off the planet for it. He founded the Corp in a parking structure out of spite. He's four feet tall and he wears the jacket.

headquarters is on the moon Nevaeh, Sector 69. Converted parking structure, the mood lighting is accidental and genuinely great, and the front shutter sticks at four feet so everybody has to duck under it. Including Appa. Especially Appa.

the power source is committed bit energy, measured by the Freak Threshold in goonits. It doesn't measure how hot you are. It measures whether you'll do the bit properly while people watch, and keep doing it after it stops being funny to anyone but you.

pass rate is 0.27%. Eleven people. Out of four thousand.

the activation phrase is "LET'S ." Two syllables, you say it flat. You say it like you're excited and they write it on your file.

The oath is legally required to be recited shirtless, which is not in the rulebook but has become unassailable custom. The oath itself is like:

In thirstiest day, in loneliest night,
No thirst shall escape my sight.
Let those who worship logic's might
Beware my power — Lantern's light!

the power battery is a jar with a screw-on lid and four full rotations of thread. Four is too many, everybody knows, there's a suggestion box, the box has never been opened.

the uniform isn't fabric, the ring just generates it. It's based on leisurewear from like forty years ago. The sleeves are always wrong. The cream parts are warm and the black parts are freezing and neither of those is adjustable.

you don't get the asterisk pin until you graduate. Before that you're a probationer with an armband and a folding chair.

the weakness is post-nut clarity. Eleven minutes, total lockout, no override. Sinestro found out, published it, and now brings it up at every single summit like it's a hobby.

there's ten laws. Law 9 is buy the coffee. Law 10 is if you're the only one in frame, you're the bit.

floor five is the Shame Cells. There's no lock. Nobody leaves early anyway.

Kilowog teaches here on his own time and he's still a serving Green Lantern, so Salakk has filed three memos. Nobody at Oa will say the word " " out loud in session.

Larfleeze wants every ring. He gets told no. He comes back. It's scheduled now.

there's a weekly newsletter called THE ASTERISK. Four pages, one of them is always a recipe, circulation 211, and nobody has ever admitted to reading it.

the enemy is the Post-Clarity Corps. Grey rings, grey coats, splinter faction, they left because the Corp is unserious and therefore unreliable. They show up unannounced with clipboards. They're right about forty percent of the time, which is the worst thing about them. Marrow Vess enforces, and she keeps a laminated photograph of the jar lid.

who are you in this? whatever you want, honestly. Applicant, probationer, veteran, handler, drill instructor, Guardian, auditor, journalist, civilian, delivery driver, villain, member of any other Corp, Post-Clarity defector, or just somebody who wandered in and wants to know why there's a glowing ring on the counter.

nobody assigns you a rank. Pick your own altitude. Go deep in the lore or ignore all of it and start a fight in the ready room.

comedy first. Innuendo the whole way, explicitness as seasoning. The Corp is the straight man and everyone in it is sincere. Nobody explains the joke.

five openings to pick from: intake, night shift, a raid, a Guardian inspection, and the ring showing up wherever you already are.

fan parody, not canon, not sorry. Lorebook attached, mostly real DC furniture with a overlay bolted on.

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