| |
|
01-26-2011, 02:26 PM
|
#21 |
|
So Dreamy
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Someplace magical
Posts: 6,863
|
-fffinallyyyy. This took FOREVERRRRR.
>[S] Go see what Gorrma is up to.
You are now GORRMA > That sure is some crappily-drawn fire. And shouldn’t the blast have thrown the goat-thing across the room? And the oven door too, for that matter? Command invalid. Please try again. >Look around. The room is on fire. The FLAMES are growing steadily larger, licking at the walls and ceiling. You don’t have much time before the entire KITCHEN BLOCK is consumed. What do you do? >Quick! Open a window and call for help! You don’t see any WINDOWS. There are no WINDOWS here. >Run into the hallway and find a window. There are no WINDOWS here either. > FIND A WINDOW SOMEWHERE. > Go save Nommington. You carefully push your way through the burning room, trying to get as close to your lusus as possible. That’s not easy. It’s far too late to do anything for the old goat. You know that. By the looks of things, Nommington didn’t even get a chance to wake up from his nap before it was all over. But that doesn’t stop you from trying. Show Lususlog It’s no use. You can’t even get close enough to him to carry him out of here. But you might be able to CAPTACHLOGUE him. > Captachlogue the dead goat-critter You can’t leave him here. You have to.. take him with you, at least. This was never supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to... Show Lususlog You stop. The flames are getting closer. Show Lususlog The light and smoke from the flames are stinging your eyes. It’s too bright. You can’t stay in here much longer. > Enough with the drama! Captachlogue the freakin’ thing already! > Gorrma: Eat burning cabinets. No thanks. Suddenly... you’re not hungry. ====> You find yourself wandering back to your HUSKTOP You feel empty. Alone. Directionless. You need to .. talk to someone. Yes. That idea pops into your head, and in your numbed state of mind, makes sense somehow. There must be someone who knows what you’re going through. Someone who can help you in your time of need. Someone who knows what it’s like to lose a lusus long before its time. But who? >Troll Ballaa ====> You feel completely alone. You... don't know what to do. What do you do when you lose something important? When you have to make a horrible choice? When you have to take a responsibility you never wanted? When it hits you... Everything that’s happened... Was all your fault? What do you do? > Be someone less depressing.
__________________
Yoo Hoo! Last edited by mauve; 01-26-2011 at 02:43 PM. |
|
|
|
01-26-2011, 03:59 PM
|
#22 |
|
Argus Agony
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Gotta go fishing!
Posts: 10,483
|
>Be someone less depressing
You are now SOMEHOW Ballaa. The fact that Mr. MY LUSUS IS DEEEEAAAAAAAAAD fits this descriptor at the moment is mind-boggling and frightening. This particular revelation would hit you like a dose of gas from the Chemically Intimidating Avian Discouraging Straw Construct, if you were actually aware of the tearjerking chain of events going on with the rest of your teammates. However, right now all you're aware of is that everyone is in the same amount of danger your friend Tergum has gotten himself into, and it looks like it's up to you to save the day, one troll at a time. You wouldn't have it any other way. >[S] Install The SGRUB installation wwizard appears on the screen, and the seizure-inducing loading graphic begins flashing about doing its thing, the progress bar crawling along steadily at the bottom. As always, your Batcomputer proves more than reliable. Keeping on the bleeding edge of computing technology has naturally been the key to your successful(?) crimefighting career. You're at 61.3% now, and it looks like someone's getting impatient. >Answer Tergum. Show Pesterlog ======> You don't have time to chat. Typing all those ellipses managed to waste enough time for the client to finish installing. SGRUB IS GO. >Connect to Tergum. Done and done. You are treated to what appears to be a live streaming video of his respiteblock. He's at his husktop, typing just as angrily as you'd expect. Actually, no. You expected... angrier, you guess? Something's amiss. Whatever it is, it's not as important as making sure he isn't turned to ash by meteors. Speaking of... >Check Alternian Planetary Emergency Channel Server You log into the APECS and, as you expected, the whole thing is lit up with information about the incoming celestial death shower of death. It doesn't take much for you to get the satellite info for the meteors respective courses and compare them to the respective locations of your friends. Tergum only has a few minutes. As does... Caoway. But he's apparently going to be taken care of by Laraje, who has roughly the same amount of time before impact than you do. You quietly thank the internet for that always sobering information about how you're all going to die within the hour. >Deploy shit You open up a flurry of windows to various locations around Tergum's hive. There are a... LOT of stairs. You decide that, instead of lengthy explanations of where you're putting what, you merely copy the server client's interactive map of Tergum's hive and mark the locations of the cruxtruder, punch designix, totem lathe, and alchemiter to allow Tergum a quicker and easier reference when he has to run around like a maniac finding them, the latter machine you'll just go ahead and place at the bottom of the... Oh. ======> Your video feed of the base of the stair well shows what appears to be Tergum's lusus. This sight gives you more pause than you can really afford at the moment, and you resolve to remain personally detached from what is pretty much the hardest thing for you to personally detach yourself from. Fate of the world and all that. Fate of the goddamn world... ... You put the alchemiter elsewhere. >Send Tergum the map Show Pesterlog ======> You don't give him a chance to respond, however. He should have everything under control long enough for you to work on your own survival, and you quickly switch to another Trollian window to contact your other immediate concern. >Troll Iropha Show Pesterlog >Be someone who is as fast as they think they are
__________________
Either you're dead or my watch has stopped. |
|
|
|
|
01-28-2011, 09:12 PM
|
#23 |
|
Feelin' Super!
Join Date: May 2009
Posts: 4,191
|
>Be someone who is as fast as they think they are
You are now Nasryl, and you were not fast enough. You are currently screaming at a corpse the second time today, once again demanding that they don't die on you. The operating table is covered in the lemon shaded blood of your lusus as you attempt a belayed surgery on limited time. This is met with no success, and the makeshift RAINBOW TICKER shows that her heartrate is steadily dropping. You're running low on time! >Be past Nasryl You rewind about 15 minutes after Nasryl answered the Team Rocket memo. Currently, you are waiting in the LOBBY of your hospital, also called the ANTE-MORGUE by some residents on Alternia. At this moment, you are waiting for a report from your Lusus (and Nurse) Cathara. It is at this stage that she usually prepares the body in your ACTUAL MORGUE that you have located in the back of the building. Why isn't she done by now? The patient's lusus will arrive soon! Oh Jegus... is she eating the corpse? It wouldn't be the first time that the greedy scavenger did it. Some doctors might allow their nurse/mortician to devour a deceased patient's mangled corpse, but you'll be damned if you tolerate that kind of conduct! You quickly slam open the door and barge into the ACTUAL MORGUE, to find your lusus hovering over the corpse. "Cathara! Again!?" There is no response. You take another couple of steps forward, and shake Cathara violently to get her attention. You find that she is hacking, and asphyxiating due to a shard of SHRAPNEL you failed to remove from the corpse! >Nasryl: Operate That's precisely what you did! Now your at the operating table, Cathara's dying, and blood is everywhere! How... HOW does she even have this much blood! You can barely even tell that the sleeves of your doctor's outfit were once white! >Put her down NO! NEVER! You will not succumb to the ease of a mercy kill! You are a medical expert in training! How can you expect to be taken seriously if all your patients DIE?! You will persevere. ========> We jump ahead to the future to find that you have failed. Her heartbeat is gone, and even the dead reflexes are fading. You have failed your duties as a doctor again. >Nasryl: Brood He seems to be doing that just fine without your help. How about we move on to someone else? How about Glissa! Where has she been? >Glissa: Get trolled While you are relaxing in front of your CAFFINATED BEVERAGE SLAB, you find that Trollian is going off. Using your husktop, you find that it is... Zebrek? What could he want? You have a feeling this discussion will bring bad news. View Pesterlog Look at that, it was bad news. You will have to rely on Zebrek to aid you along. At least he seems to have his heart in it. One thing is for certain, Caoway is going to have to put all of his soul into that CRUSTACEAN FORGIVENESS DANCE if he wants to survive this game. Its right about now that you should visit your lusus for the day. He is certainly still patrolling the hive. If you head to the roof, you may be able to catch him. >Glissa: Ascend to the top floor Its a large hive, that is a long climb. Much too long for your feeble legs to cover in one post. How about we hand off the torch to someone else? ========> |
|
|
|
|
01-30-2011, 03:55 PM
|
#24 | |
|
An eagle with the head of a turtle-
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: and the body of a turtle.
Posts: 1,371
|
========>
You now find yourself in the RESPITEBLOCK of a young troll whom we have not had the pleasure of meeting yet. He's a pretty sharply dressed fellow, with his suit and bow tie. Perhaps he is going someplace later? Though right now, he is just admiring a framed poster of a FICTIONAL ALIEN SHUTTLECRAFT. That's neat, you guess. Bet you'd rather have him walk across the room and have a one of those hilarious chatlogs with one of his quirky contacts or many admiring fans on his sleek, state of the art HUSKTOP. Of course, he's much too important a troll to solicit others. He'd rather they contact him. Although, the reason he is not out and about right now is because he's waiting on a message. He really wishes his contact would just hurry up and message him already. Not that he cares, of course. He just wants the guy to message him like the guy said that he would so our troll friend can prove him wrong. Wow, that's pretty confusing. Hmm, this is all very interesting. Hey, what do you suppose this guy's name is? > no Come again? > i really dont care who this douchebag is show me someone else Well, that's rude. I'm trying to write a story here. > dont care show me someone else Okay, fine. You want to see someone else? Type => Switch 2 => Switch 2 Somewhere, far into the future, one monitor in a dimly lit room switches off and another switches on. A new troll appears on this screen. Someone that we are already familiar with. And, as it happens, he is someone that the owner of these hands clacking away at the station's keyboard is also familiar with. This new troll is suspended just above some crashing waves by a bit of fishing line. Even though he is quite relieved after having recently escaped annihilation by way of a giant fiery meteor, this new pinch he landed himself in has him worried. Just then, a brightly glowing KERNEL HALF floats down past him and vanishes into the ocean below. The troll looks up just in time to see another half float skyward and leave behind a glowing ringy shaped thing. He doesn't really know what to make of this. > you The young troll seems to have taken notice of your words. He asks if you talking to him? > yeah im talking to you Okay, glad you could clear that up. > what are you doing there you His name isn't you. It's Caoway. And what he's doing is holding on for dear life. > whatever i dont care about your name You don't seem to care about a lot of things. > how did you get there Caoway got into this situation because of his fool solution to his entrance challenge. > you do seem like the fool type He doesn't seem to be enjoying this conversation. > hey wait a minute What is it? > i remember you youre one of the troll kids That is correct, he is one of the 16 trolls kids who make up the cast of this adventure. > sage What was that? Caoway didn't understand that last statement. > you What did I just say? > you are the sage Caoway doesn't recognize the title you are addressing him by. > dont play dumb i know who you are Maybe you do, but Caoway certainly doesn't know you or your silly title. > i still hate you too even after all these years That's nice, but I'm afraid he just doesn't return the sentiment. Maybe you can just be hate-friends? > fuck you im switching the view to someone else Oh no, don't! Whatever will he do without the annoying voice whispering in his ear? > have fun dying later asshole Wait what? Jegus, can I get some reasonable suggestions for once? > Be the Sage. Unfortunately, you can't be the foretold Sage because he does not yet exist at this point in time. > Be Caoway. You are the fool who somehow earned his entry into this new and wondrous land. You continue hanging helplessly just above the waves crashing into the plateau your hive now sits on. You are not sure, but you think that there might have been a little voice heckling you just a moment ago. This is great, you think, what better way to end your crappie night than with falling to your death whale having a complete psychotic breakdown? Oh man, did you just make some fish puns in your head? This night really fellates musclebeast bits. Oh would you look at that, messages galore. > Caoway: answer server player. You retrieve the GRUBPDA from your SYLLADEX with one of your many inter-galatic tendrils and reply to your friend. Just kidding, you quickly pull it out with your normal troll hand and shove it into your mouth and type with your tongue so you can continue holding onto the fishing pole. Show chatlog. You glance down at the merciless surf pounding below. > Caoway: Ask for assistance. Show plea. A crude platform, which seems to be made out of copied sections of your hive, materializes underneath you. > Caoway: Drop. You captchalogue the pole and drop down onto the platform. A few more platforms appear in ascending order. Leraje's trolling you again. > Caoway: Okay, first platform hop back up to your hive. Second, do it while trolling Leraje back. Even though the effects of the alien vegetable have long since worn off, your SEA-LEGS and MANGRIT allow you to hop from platform to platform with the greatest of ease. However, it wouldn't be very smart to go leaping around with your attention divided so you decide stop for moment on one particularly bad platform and troll Leraje back. Show chatlog. You hop up to the last platform and wait for a response from Leraje. ... He sure is taking his sweet time. > Caoway: See what's up. Show chatlog. Well, looks like you'll be sailing solo for a few minutes. Hm, sure is a nice view from up here. You take in the majestic sight of this grand ocean spread out in front of you. To you, it's the very picture of endless possibilities for excitement and harrowing adventure. It's shame that the price for seeing this world was the death of an entire planet, but still it's pretty cool. A whole new planet to explore... you wish Beechie were here to explore it with you. Of course, after thinking this you realize that even if your lusus were here he would not be able to go anywhere on the account of him being crippled because of you. Now you are very, very sad. Maybe you should leave him alone for a bit. > Can I please be a troll who isn't distraught over the death of their lusus?
__________________
Some quote: Quote:
Last edited by Intern Nin; 01-31-2011 at 09:28 PM. |
|
|
|
|
|
01-30-2011, 04:31 PM
|
#25 |
|
Burn.
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: *Classified*
Posts: 11,017
|
> Can I please be a troll who isn't distraught over the death of their lusus?
You're now Piron, who is... actually enjoying a chunk of her lusus... > She's weird. Be someone else! Everyone else is busy. Besides, this won't be long. > Fine. Check the Memo then. You decide to check out what the Memo is doing. Seeing a new one open for the pack you have been put in, you decide to check it out. View MEMO That makes you stop for a moment, and think. You've carved up the lusus into chunks, and you've eaten a little bit of it. > Smooth. Quiet you. > Sorry. Anyway, you wonder if it'll work carved up like it was, and these seem to know what it's about, so you reply. > Reply to Memo. View Memo Oh hey, someone else is now avalable. >Be someone else. (Colors will be added later.)
__________________
"Only the fool wishes to go into battle to beat someone for the satisfaction of beating someone." -A Thousand Sons Rules. Read them, know them, love them. |
|
|
|
|
01-30-2011, 10:16 PM
|
#26 | |
|
An eagle with the head of a turtle-
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: and the body of a turtle.
Posts: 1,371
|
> Be someone else.
You are Caoway. You had yourself a good session of not-crying and now you're ready to start adventuring. What should you do first? > Caoway: Return home. Can't go off on a new adventure without some supplies. Plus, you'll need your HUSKTOP since you're going to be Sharl's server later on. You hop to the top of the plateau. You take a quick glance around and see that everything on the cape, from your hive to the stump, has been transported along with you. You make your way into the open entryway leading into Beechie's block. There's still a few whale steaks laying on the precipice. You try not to notice them because they remind you of your lusus and the final tragedy he suffered less than half an hour ago. Inside, you see the CRUXTRUDER. This stupid device brings to mind that wretched KERNELSPRITE and the way it devoured Beechie's remains. If you ever see it again you'll- Hey what's this? You definitely don't remember extracting all these dowels that are on the floor. And what is this chalky crap all over the wheel? Somebody has been in your hive. But who? There is absolutely no way there could have been anybody else on your island at the time you entered. So this has to be something from this world. Something covered in this chalk stuff. You suddenly remember the monsters Leraje was going on about while he was cleaning up. > Caoway: Contact meddler for assistance. Show chatlog. You don't receive a response right away. > Caoway: Retreat to respiteblock. You make your way through the _______-block. There's some more strange substances wiped over the bookshelves and table. The framed photograph of your departed nemesis has been knocked down and smashed on the floor. You are surely dealing with some heartless sons of bitches. You quickly spit onto the picture and continue on up the stairs and into the respiteblock. There are more smears in here too. It seems like who ever was in here wanted to get whatever it is that's inside CYMOPOLEA'S TREASURY. Fat chance opening it without the MEGATON KEY. Hey, where's... THEY TOOK YOUR DEAD DOG! > Caoway: Inform server about this development. Show chatlog. You furiously mash out a message to your friend who really seems to be living up to his user name. In the midst of your mashings, you spy an empty mantle where a very specific and oft mention weapon is supposed to be resting. Looks like it's going to play an important role in your story. Who knew? Show chatlog. Blast, still nothing. > Caoway: Go it alone. It's dangerous to go alone. And unarmed. That's why you crafted the steel line fishing pole. This is the deadliest weapon in your specibus. This sorry sicko better pray to his bizarre extra-dimensional alien god that you don't find him. > Invader: Disarm foe. From your vantage point behind the pile of chests, you take aim and fire your newly pilfered handgun at the weapon this horned jerk is brandishing. The shot obliterates the pole and line along with a large portion of the wall. The energy blast continues onward across the ocean. You are knocked down by the backlash. It may be a good idea to adjust the settings to a lower power level. Like maybe one. You fiddle with the dial with your ghastly white clawed digits until its set on a power level where you're not likely to dislocate your arm when firing it. > Caoway: Fisher-troll roll behind some cover and repair specibii. You hastily roll behind the treasury, your best chance for decent cover in this block. As for the specibii, well it doesn't really need repairing. Because it was completely destroyed. You're really lucky he didn't take your hand off with that blast. The card is now blank and your trusty pole and line was thrown back in the SYLLADEX, ejecting one of your shoddy taxidermy book and kits. You quickly reallocate the pole and line to the STRIFE SPECIBUS and wield it. > Caoway: Terminate conversation. Then go terminate the intruder. Show chatlog. You store the GRUBPDA away and prepare to answer the call to battle. [S]> OUTRAGEOUS STRIFE! You roll out from behind your cover and cast your line in a wide sweep, accidentally hitting the THERMAL HULL and messing up your attack. Your foe, labeled as a CALCIUM IMP, pops out and fires off another round that barely misses you. He ducks back down before you have a chance to strike. You tumble back behind the cover of the Treasury. Situation isn't good, you can't strike faster than a gun and he has too much cover to hide behind in this block. Not to mention you can't even get a good wind up with all this junk. You going to have to lead him out of here. You roll over to the entrance and hop down to the bottom of the stairs and quickly dodge-roll out of way of some energy shots. The imp gives chase and scrambles down the stairs after you. You leap atop the table and over the bookshelves, clearing the Watchamacallit block. The imp fires wildly and misses, managing only in giving the block a few new windows. You enter Beechie's block, roomy enough for you swing your weapon with reckless abandon. There's only one way for the imp to come in if he wants to get you. You see the dowels lying on the floor and are struck with a great idea. You perform a little battle alchemy, hooking the dowel and then securely tying it up. You've crafted a rudimentary pole-and-line-flail. You then start charging your MANGRIST. The imp enters and you immediately aggrieve him, knocking the blunderbuss from his clutch and striking him repeatedly in the face. While you may have had a small victory in disarming him, the blows to face don't seem to be doing any damage because of the invincible aegis he's wearing. He slashes the line with his claws, cutting the dowel loose. He makes a play for the blunderbuss, but you rush him, striking him repeatedly with the most violent of nub-drubbings. He counter aggrieves, but misses as you release the charged MANGRIST and fly into the air. You whip the line around his neck and land right on top of him. You stomp down on its arms and begin yanking on the line. Time to see which snaps first: the fishing line or this thing's neck. The imp flails it legs around, hoping to upset your balance. It's pretty futile, it will take a lot more than it to knock you off your SEALEGS. He seems to realize this and looks up at you pleadingly. Those tusks, furry cheeks, and claws. He looks so much like... CAOWAY: You look... like my luS\uS\. CAOWAY: That'S\ a real S\hame. You pull harder than ever. CAOWAY: Beechie tauG\ht me to never be afrai/) of attackinG\ a frien/)ly face. The imp's head flies across the block and the body explodes into a bunch of build grist, calcium, and a card. You have no idea what to make of this. Why don't you check in with someone else while Caoway tries to wrap his head around the concept of "drops". > Be the most important character.
__________________
Some quote: Quote:
Last edited by Intern Nin; 09-05-2011 at 05:57 PM. |
|
|
|
|
|
01-30-2011, 10:48 PM
|
#27 |
|
Moves Like Jagger, Kupo!
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: To the south, a little to the left... Or to the right.
Posts: 4,910
|
> Be the most important character.
You can't find him! > Well why the hell not? He's in his closet. > What? He's checking it for angels. > What? You don't think you could put it any simpler than that. > Who is this joker? You're Zebrek, of course! You're currently checking your closet for angels. You do this regularly because those leathery-winged bastards could pop in at any time. > What? You step out of your COSTUME CLOSET, which is where you keep your REDBIRD MORTAL SIDEKICK, ALIEN MESSIAH ALLEGORY, DAREDEVIL, IRON MAN, MUTATED ARACHNID KID and TROLL WILL SMITH costumes. > What? Well, there's no monsters in your closet. Now you've run out of things to kill time with, so you figure you'll get started on playing that game. > Zebrek: Install. You begin installing SGRUB. The psychedelic installation display has you hypnotized. Oooooh, pretty lights. > Zebrek: Troll Glissa. Zebrek can't take commands now because he's staring at the pretty lights! > Be someone less important.
__________________
Dracorion's dumbass color is Royal Blue. If you see that color, you better run the fuck away. Last edited by Dracorion; 01-30-2011 at 10:52 PM. |
|
|
|
|
01-31-2011, 08:27 PM
|
#28 |
|
Cinderella
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: Trespassing in the graveyard
Posts: 3,076
|
> Be someone less important.
You are now Seymour. The waters are getting rougher, you have no difficulty moving in them, you've been involved in gale force hurricanes before with little effort, but you worry. In your mind you are imagining your little caretaker, that little bastard playing his little games on his computer. His foolish shipping and what have you. Likely ignoring the hubbub outside because you are no longer a threat to him today. Foolish, stupid child. The sky falls on this planet, and every impact is a signal of coming doom. Your eyes stare upward, and one particular rock catches your eye. Like catching the view of a moving harpoon you watch as it descends, and you see where it is going. That damn fool child. You'll have to save him. >Be the fool. You are now Leraje. Fifteen minutes ago. As suggested by your salty friend you have decided to start your little journey to getting the hell off this planet before you are killed. >Troll Burgun Open Pesterlog >Wave to Burgun. While you are not quite sure where she could see you from you wave anyway, hoping you are not waving in the exact opposite direction and looking like an idiot. But you probably are. Open Pesterlog >Prepare for the worst. Sopor slime goes EVERYWHERE! But it is a small sacrifice for the end result, low and behold the thing opens and out comes that shiny little bastard yelling something you assume are obscenities. You don't really know, you haven't met one that could properly speak as of yet. Open Pesterlog >Wave goodbye to the wall. Shiplog: AP: Later shippy, you served me well all these years. Open Pesterlog Well...that ain't good. You contemplate sending a few more messages to be sure you were properly disconnected but you can read the font plain as day. How problematic, what does she expect you to do until she comes back... You kinda hope she comes back. You check in on what Caoway is up to, but it seems like he is busy killing monsters so you leave him alone. So alone. ========> It is fifteen minutes later. Leraje has had some time to himself to ruin things and is standing in a new outfit, out of his hoody and in a tweed jacket with leather elbow pads. His hair a little wild and shagging forward a little over his glasses, and on his legs he has a fresh pair of black slacks. He stares down into a cell phone that appears to be shaped like a hand. His own hand. Oh god it is texting on it's own. Open Pesterlog >Dramatic reveal. The flash of light blinds you for a moment as you look away, and your eyes very carefully turn back to reveal a... Open Pesterlog >Catch some Z's bro. You slip out of the new digs and climb up on the alchemiter. Pulling yourself up into the opening into the cocoon, staring down into the slime. You wonder what this was meant to represent, you never were much for sleeping. You shrug and dive in, closing your eyes in the calm before the nightmares robbed you away to horrortown. >[S] Leraje: Sleep.
__________________
Time to bust out the glow sticks!  |
|
|
|
|
02-01-2011, 08:34 AM
|
#29 |
|
Ara ara!
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Neo Venezia
Posts: 5,013
|
>Reply to goddamned Bat-troll
-- vengefulRodentia [VR] began trolling hastyExecutor [HE] -- VR: all right... VR: you had better be... as FAST as you THINK you are... HE: I'M F^STER TH^N I THIN|< I ^M! HE: THIN|< ^BOUT TH^T >:3 HE: ONE MOMENT >Load cannon You load ZEBREK'S BLACKMAIL PARCEL into the cannon's PARCEL SHUNT. >What cannon? It is a dirty little secret of the DELIVERATORS, but sometimes ACCIDENTS HAPPEN and it's not possible to make a delivery in person. Such as when you're behind schedule on account of falling from a GREAT HEIGHT and passing out (something of a recurring problem for you) and presently being CAVESTUCK. In those rare cases, intermediaries are required. Such as this fine TELESCOPIC PARCEL CANNON. >Explain cannon Oh you made it years ago. You are SOMETHING OF A MECHANIC after all. If your destination is close enough and the weather's right, you can use TROLL CALCULUS and your incredible PSYCHIC POWERS to launch the payload at LUDICROUS SPEEDS, dropping it on the target's doorstep (or cave-hole, in this case) with PINPOINT ACCURACY. It is REALLY QUITE SIMPLE. You have decided to do it for Zebrek's specific case because SCREW CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN WITH A BROKEN LEG. >Make delivery Pshoo! Look at that BLACKMAIL go! Right throgh the cave roof and into the sky! --hastyExecutor [HE] began trolling spectaularHellion[SH] -- HE: ZEBRE|<, BL^C|<M^IL >ELIvERY! ESTIM^TE> TIME OF ^RRIv^L: 23 SECON>S! BR^CE FOR IMP^CT!!! A true DELIVERATOR never fails but the condition the goods arrive in is... negotiable. >Update MAILING LIST Private Client A Pies ==> Gorrma Private Client A Pies ==> Vintag Private Client B Blackmail => Sharl Gorrma Unknown Item[s] ==> Unknown[s] (requires pickup) Sharl Oven ==> Gorrma (requires pickup) Sharl Medical Supplies ==> Nasyrl (requires pickup) Another job well done. >Inform Client C of delivery -- hastyExecutor [HE] began trolling pandorasArchivist [PA] -- HE: IT'S >ONE
__________________
This post is a good source of Ara ara, ufufu.* *These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This post is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease. Last edited by Arhra; 02-01-2011 at 08:41 AM. |
|
|
|
|
02-01-2011, 07:50 PM
|
#30 |
|
SOM3WH3R3
Join Date: Jun 2009
Posts: 4,606
|
> Find out what's done
A Tome has been delivered. > Find out more Can't find out. Have to experience. > Be Past Client C Hours in the past, but not many... You are now Scalis. You are curled up on the ground, eyes shut tight, breathing through gritted teeth as you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. There's a cold wind blowing again, and it's sapping your warmth. > Awaken You are not asleep, though you wish you were. You're just remembering. The strife, the pain, the lightning. The voices? > Stop remembering You don't know if you can. But you do what you can. You open your eyes and try to force your aching body. Your arm gives way as coughs wrack your paper-dry throat, and you fall back to the ground, groaning. You can barely feel your limbs, your skin itches, your head feels like the lightning only just shocked it. And as you realize that there's gunshot wounds on your shoulder, where Zebrek shot you... shot you not... all too long ago, probably, you're not sure, as you feel the blood drip down your arm, you realize, maybe that's not so far off. You... don't know what just happened, or don't want to at least. All you know is that you remembered. You remember the clash, and the conflict, the strife, the pain, the lighting. It has all come back. All of it. You managed to leave it behind once, managed to forget it all, but somehow you knew that it couldn't last. And now, like a boomerang from hell, it's hit you where it hurts. You manage to stand and begin to walk bac towards the main desk. You've been sleeping there, even since you misfiled your respiteblock. Shame about that. In your state, you could really, really use a recuperacoon right about now. Somehow, just an hour or two of sleep would make it all better. But you can't sleep now. You've remembered and now you have to... deal with it. > Brood As you walk, you consider what you've... relearned. It felt like you've always disliked him, really. But... maybe you didn't always detest him. Only since the Visit. Only since you've known who he was. That alone is disturbing. What else have you forgotten? What else feels like it's been there all along? But there's bigger things to worry about, of course. The Pest himself. And what you're feeling right now. Pain. Betrayal, in a way. Regret at what's been lost. A sense of realization. And, of course, rage. Not at his actions. Those were just books. And while the Code calls for those who would dishonor a Warchivist's charges to die painfully, you've always preferred to skip that part. But his... ignorance. His indifference to others. His indifference to you, his willingness to defile what was yours. His vapidness, superficiality, naivite, his Childishness! His Ignorace! You're shivering again, but with suppressed rage this time. You were right, back then. When you thought of him as an anomaly, you were right. Your fists are still clenched as you reach the Main Desk and sit down at it. You have no idea what's going on inside you, you've never felt this way before. This barely restrained wrath. You've read about it, of course, but you never thought it'd be this strong. You sigh. You have to deal with this. You're already... obsessed. > Deal with it You pop open your GRUBTOP, open Trollian, hesitate -you swore you'd never, ever take romance advice from him- but realize you have no choice. You have this conversation, then sit back, wait. Not for long, though. There's a couple of memos open, and Tergum's invited you to some game, but it's all just a way to spend time before that damn meddler gets back to you. But you wait. And wait. And you can't stop thinking about that pest, all his faults, all his mistakes. Finally, you can't take it anymore. > Snap No. You don't snap. But the rage building inside you, you have to release it. You have to let it out. You have to show Zebrek how you feel. And then you have to end it once and for all. And you know just how. You just have to... > Arrange things Things are easily arranged. A message to a long-time friend,, a quick look through the archives. It takes you a while, but somehow... somehow things don't seem to be getting lost. The BLACK MAGIC AND CURSES category is right where it needs to be, and the particular TOME in question almost seems to want you to find it, to use it. You hold it tightly closed, shivering with anticipation, and grin at its title. A COMPLETE ASSHOLE'S GUIDE TO PIE-BAKING indeed. You wrap it up tightly, take it to the SECRET EXCHANGE LOCATION. Really just a hollow at the roots of an old tree near your hive, but it's more dramatic that way. Apparently deliverators insist on that, but you don't mind. As long as it's... delivered. And your friend is one thing, it's reliable. It will reach him allright. And then this will be over. One way... or another. You feel that a great weight's lifted from your chest as you deposit the package and return to the librarchivary. You've done what your feelings told you to do. You've expressed yourself. One thing that worries you is the absence of your lusus... normally he'd have gone to the EXCHANGE LOCATION, but he was nowhere to be found. If you weren't feeling so calignous, you'd be worried. But all there is to do now... is wait. > Be a troll doing something more interesting. |
|
|
|
 |
| Thread Tools | |
| Display Modes | |
|
|
Linear Mode
