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08-04-2011, 01:22 AM
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#81 |
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Lakitu
Join Date: Feb 2010
Posts: 4,648
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>Be the other troll A system error causes the command to work without complaint, you are now Aldurin. >Do shit Time to work on damage control, in other words getting your hive out of the path of damage. With any luck Caoway will actually be available to start servering your mountain out of here. View Trollian transcript >Troll someone else while Caoway bullshits View Trollian transcript Dammit, he's not answering. At least he isn't being a retard. You swap windows to your other active conversation. View first Trollian Transcript Damn, he just had to put down the book or give it back to Caoway, no heroic bullshit like destroying your only hope for survival. >Check on Nasryl while you await your doom. View other Trollian transcript You didn't pay much heed to the creatures approaching Nasryl's hive, and should they actually be a threat then it'll be good for him to practice some self-defensive murder. >Are you actually talking to Caoway now? View ANOTHER Trollian transcript You determine your progress to be roughly around zero percent, now that you're back to dealing with a server player who allowed someone else to have his computer.
===> Roughly seven minutes in the future, you get an alert on the terminal on one of the security feeds. >Examine The blast appeared to have knocked this camera so it faced upwards, you can only really tell that because of the single corner of sky that's not blocked out by the giant meteor. This takes a moment for you to process longer over all of the noise of the meteor impacts, partially because a couple of those sounded very . . . metallic. >Be someone who is not in dire danger |
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08-18-2011, 01:53 AM
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#82 | |
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An eagle with the head of a turtle-
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: and the body of a turtle.
Posts: 1,371
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> Be someone who is not in dire danger.
ERROR You are now Caoway, and you are still under attack by those dog-gone minions, one of which just tried to savagely bite your right arm off. Thankfully, the thick fabrics of the anchor emblem sweater kept it from rending the meat off your forearm, though it did sink its teeth in deep enough to draw a little blood. Not to mention that your head is aching a bit from when you landed on it earlier and now two of the terriers are closing in. On top of all that, the voice in your head is back and storm clouds seem to be rolling in. What will you do? > Caoway: Consider places in your hive in which to put the stuffed and mounted corpses of your foes. Last you checked, there wasn't much room for anything! Well that's not entirely true now. The wave did knock out few things but not enough display the bodies of these mutts. Perhaps you could ask Leraje to do that revise thing to your hive and make another room. Wait, these things change into grist when you kill them so there wouldn't be any bodies to display. And why are you thinking about this stuff right now? The hounds are closing in, man! > sage answer the question > dont pretend like you dont hear me > Caoway: Drive the beasts back with your fishing pole, like a lion tamer. You let loose a volley of fishing line cracks against the freaks, but they do not shrink back. The hounds' hard quartz bodies are hardly even damaged by the lashings of your razor sharp line. This could prove to be very difficult. It begins to drizzle. > ID: Heckle this worthless troll. > hey pay attention to me sage > are you in the past or not > stop messing with the fuckin hounds and answer me The one you call sage is still much too focused on more pressing matters. Like the double-mouthed, sabrecat-armed horror charging him with murder in its nonexistent eyes. The hero rolls out of the way and behind the houndstrosity, viciously striking its back. The creature's health vial concedes a single drop of fluid. Only an entire ablution trap's worth left to go. > oh boohoo theres a big minion tryin to eat my face you wuss > whatever > if this really is the past then the next combo these dogs pull is gonna break you The Sage looks alarmed. The minion rears around and retaliates with a wild swing, which he easily dodges with a fishertroll back-flip. Of course, the second one who was standing at bay and sniffing intently at the fight, took advantage of this opportunity to strike. Its diamond paw slices across the troll's back, sending him forward right into the first hounds second strike. x2 Combo! > hahahahaha i warned you > i told you about those dogs > oh looks like i dont need your confirmation after all The troll lies at the feet of his enemies, health vial low and bleeding from the wounds on both his chest and back. His misshapen foes stand over him, the four mouths between them salivating like a nutrition storage block hydration spigot that's been left on. Through winced eyes the hero watches as the awkward terrier raises its paw for the finishing blow. > ah come on hurry up A beam of green fish, cigars, and cards strike the would-be executioner square in the face and knock it off it feet. The second one moves to finish the job himself, but a blood-curdling roar stops it in its tracks. The hero looks over just in time to see his cleverly disguised green Sea Jaguaren spirit guide tackle into the diamond pawed minion. The monstrosities lock in flurry of claw and tooth, rolling across the plateau and dropping off the edge of the cliff. The lad cries out to his guardian as the ghostly beast disappears from sight. > damn always thought that save was bullshit > hey you gonna run or not The Sage gets to his feet and absconds a short distance away. He stands, clutching the wound on his chest, trying to catch his breath. The wind picks up and the rain comes down harder. QT1 slowly gets back on its diamond shaped paws and scans around for the troll, but cannot make hear his breathing through the wind's howl. Looks like he gets a short reprieve to get his shit together. > Caoway: Try not to faint at the sight of your blood. Or from the blood loss. Faint? Because of this? THAT'S LANDLUBBER TALK! You call this a wound? HA! YOU SEE MORE BLOOD THAN THIS WHEN YOU FLOSS! There is no way in hell that you're going to fall down and be useless again. Not here, before you even reach the first gate. Not after Beechie bailed your ass out again. ========> Enough pussyfooting around. You need to kill these things right now. But it will be too difficult to do if your attention is divided. With the steel line rod, you quickly score a large message into the earth. > ID: Contemplate the implications of your discovery. It would seem that your guess was right on the boondollar: this monitor is allowing you to view and interact with the Sage in the past. This is an astounding discovery and... you are so bored with this now. Really, what's the point with watching him? You'll just be seeing every awful thing happen as you remember it, including the defeats you suffered at the hands of- ========> An idea forms. You'll suddenly change your tune and offer helpful advice and guidance to the Sage. He becomes all trusting and thinks that you're his best friend in all of paradox space. Then, later when he runs into past you, you'll make him run into walls or some other kind of stupid thing that will cost him the fight. He loses and you're victorious! So no more future of exile and sand and nut creatures and big wide open nothing! Just the new and improved future of you being Awesome Rapper Extraordinaire and the Sage being dead! Yes, this is a brilliant plan and nothing can go wrong! ========> Actually that sounds like a dumb plan and he'll probably never go for it. Better just stick to yanking his chain. What's a good word that rhymes with “crustacean fondler”? Oh, what's this? A flash of lightning has illuminated some words etched into the ground next to the sage. Help me or Shut up. You always wondered what that meant. > ID: You'll never get a better opportunity than this. > yeah sage i can do that > lets be friends and work as team > a pair of hard pole hittin super murder minion exterminators > just listen to all my advice without question or hesitation alright The troll nods in agreement. The > awesome ok theres the thunderstorm > bitches need to hear you to catch you so that should throw them off > the rain will make hard for them to sniff you out > you do know how to fight an eyeblind noseblind rampaging beast don't you sage He smiles a tiny bit. > thats what i thought > im watchin your back so go in there do what youre gonna do [S] > Caoway: Round 2. GRIEF! You open up your sylladex, fish out the idiophonic cup-and-clanger, and rush forward. Diamondpaws hears the clanger and but is too slow to react. You swing wildly, bopping it on the snout multiple times, making a lot of clanging noises with each blow. Pretty much establishing your intent to dominate. The attack doesn't spill a drop of the beast's health vial but infuriates it nonetheless. The hound rears up to strike but you dodge-roll away and abscond like a fleet-footed, bell-capped elf. Your foe gives chase, homing in on the clanger's ringing and is soon hot on your heels. Just as you planned. With deft hands, you quickly tie the Idiophonic Cup & Clanger to the line and let it fly off to the right. You keep the line wiggling mid-air and the cup continues with its noise, giving the blind moron the impression that you suddenly leapt aside. The brute follows after the ringing and you halt and take his back. You manipulate the line and weave it around QT1 like a lariat, ensnaring its limbs and causing it to drop to the ground like hefty sack of behemoth leavings. Beaglepuss struggles and bites its bindings in vain, for you have it on good authority that the steel reel is guaranteed unbreakable even against the largest and mightiest of sea-based abominations or you'll get 0% off your next purchase. You equip an oar in your offhand and prepare to deliver the coup de grace. > sage bug hound 8oclock > angler parry numbnuts You swivel your torso around just in time to see QT3 outlined in a flash of lightning, reared up and ready to bring its claws down on you. Quick reflexes save you and you block the bug-headed terrier with the oar. QT3 presses all of its weight down on you, snapping at you with it insectoid mandibles and taking swings with its mutant set of scythe'd limbs. Though you are able to withstand the beast's pressure even with your injuries, due to your impressive grit and hardiness, the same cannot be said for your piece of shit oar which looks like it's about to snap and bring an end to this power-struggle. “When two great forces oppose each other, the victory will go to the one that knows how to yield.” -Troll Diana Ross You give in to the beast's force and salmon roll out of the way. Bugsy screeches in frustration at its wasted chance to maim and spreads its wings in preparation for another attack. You charge up your mangrit and take a few steps back while reeling in some line. Going to have to position this just right. The quartz menace lunges and you flip your shit. Or rather perform an aerial rod and reel cyclone flip attack as it were, which yanks the snared OT1 off the ground. It is swung in wide overhead arc and brought right down on QT3, massively damaging the both of them. Then from out of nowhere, QT2 is tossed on top of them for x2 combo damage. A sabre-tusked ally appearifies by your side and begins raining down fishy spam upon the dogpile. > minnow shower wont cut it sage > give the word You dramatically point and give the command. Beechiesprite nods and materializes a gargantuan elephant tuna 100 feet above the heap of foes and drops it like its fresh off the burning charcoal pit's grate. The impact shakes the whole plateau and the crystalline canines let out introllian yelps of pain. The fish disappearifies, revealing the three ne'er-do-wells in all their cracked majesty. QT2 and 3 slowly get up and growl weakly. QT1 remains immobilized by the fishing line. > end it You swiftly reel in the line and Groucho Terrier is yanked off the ground and sent flying towards you. Its met with the bottom of your boot, shattering its body and reducing it to grist. Beechiesprite morphs back into jokester predator mode and lunges right through Awkward Terrier like a pane of glass. The last hound, the one with insect parts, howl-hisses and makes a blind leap at the hero's direction You whip the line like a lasso and let it fly, right around QT3's neck. You leap and reel yourself into your foe, firmly planting your boots right where it sternum would be. You give the mutt a taste of your subweapon, several swift tastes until the end of the oar breaks into mist of splinters, leaving only a jagged pointed end. You quickly change the way you hold it and raise it high above your head. From the depths of the brooding caverns, you strike at three! And 3 explodes into an obscene amount of grist. [S]> Caoway: Initiate interpretive victory dance with lusus-sprite. You perform a victory dance that incorporates the sailor's lookout, the crustacean scuttle, a high five with your lusus, heel spin, and ends with you in a victory pose with your pole slung over your shoulder and back to the fourth wall. > Caoway: Deliver post-mortem one-liner. CAOWAY: A/)ioS\, aholehole. CAOWAY: G\o/) /)amn it. You just ruined a perfectly good soundbyte with an involuntary fish pun. You hang your head in shame and wonder why you keep doing that? Could it be the mercury from all the fish you ingest? Could these be the early signs of a complete psychological breakdown? Nah, it's probably just you being weird. > ID: Grow bored with these antics and take your leave. > welp had my fill of braindead crayfish jigs for right now > time to go have another look around my new digs later asshole You move away from the console and make your way to the entrance tunnel. Maybe now you'll notice the shiny enticing touchpad? > ID: Go up top again and gaze upon the sprawling landscape below. You decide to return to the top of the butter-station where you almost fell to your death not twenty minutes earlier. You secure yourself against the station's deedlybob and watch the sun set behind the skyline of an ancient ruined city. The pure majesty of this sight stirs up something inside you, a something not unlike that old Dersian mental disorder called serenity. You feel slightly saddened at the prospect of your grand plan to alter the future, as it means you will never get behold this wonderous sight. On the other hand, at least you'll live in future where you can have a rapoff against something other than plants. That cactus did have some decent rhymes though. > ID(?): Have a rap battle with a sagauro. No desert plants around here, just corpses. Man, but was that a bee-essy fight you just witnessed or what! You could hardly even follow what was going on. So very lamebrained. At least it provided a nice distraction from the unpleasant reality of your current situation. ...Welp, those death notifications aren't going to write themselves. > Be the best troll.
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Last edited by Intern Nin; 09-02-2011 at 07:25 PM. Reason: I forgot the fucking bold!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! |
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09-02-2011, 03:37 PM
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#83 |
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Moves Like Jagger, Kupo!
Join Date: Jul 2007
Location: To the south, a little to the left... Or to the right.
Posts: 4,910
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> Be the best troll.
You can't be Zebrek because he's currently suffering from a severe case of deadness. > Who cares about that douche? Be another troll. I said you can't be Zebrek! > Be another troll! GOD FINE YOU ARE NOW PAST ZEBREK ARE YOU HAPPY > Past Zebrek: return to your cave. You've just gotten back from playing outside with best friend, Twinkleberry. The two of you are clearly going to be together forever. Thinking otherwise is just silly. > Check husktop. You manage maneuver through your toy-littered floor toward your husktop, which seems to be buzzing excitedly. > ========>  So many chums. They are lining up for gratuitous huggings. Your open arms are hungry for friends, and they are poised to get a gogdamn cuddling. > Reply to chums. Code:
arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] AG: Hey you. AG: Yeah you! AG: Would you like to play a game? AG: Come oooooooon I promise it won’t 8e the same as last time! AG: I won’t manipul8 your clouder into betraying you again! AG: Come on!!!!!!! SH: sorry i was out playing whats up more flarping cool just gimme a moment so many chums want to talk to me im just gonna say hi AG: God, I will never get the hang of talking to you. AG: Don't forget I'm just asking you 8ecause all my other dum8 friends are busy! SH: ok but can you not manipul8 i mean manipulate my clouder again i dont think he liked that AG: Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee! AG: Just make sure to get a high8100d I mean high8lood this time. AG: Sorry, my dum8 friend's quirk is stuck in my head. AG: So are you done talking to those chumps now or what? SH: hee hee of course not ive been talking to you silly AG: Gooooooood fine I'll go convince my partner to play but when I come 8ack you 8etter 8e ready to get trounced by Team Scourge!!!!!!!! SH: i think thats because you two are always in cahoots AG: Cahoooooooots!!!!!!!! AG: ::::) AG: I'd tell you to surrender now 8ut that wouldn't 8e fun! SH: ok lets have fun! arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
malignantDerivative [MD] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] MD: 3xP3R1M3N7 W45 4 F41LUR3 MD: 4773MP71N6 70 M1x 50P0R 5L1M3 + M1ND H0N3Y Y13LD5 3xPL051V3 R35UL75 MD: UND3R N0 C1RCUM574NC35 SH0ULD 0N3 1NG357 M1ND H0N3Y MD: UP0N 1NG3571N6 17 W17H 50P0R 5L1M3 1 W45 1NC4P4C17473D 4 H0UR5 MD: N071N6 P073N714L 0FF3N51V3 U53 F0R FU7UR3 R3F3R3NC3 SH: oh hey whats up what happened what do you mean incapacitated MD: 1 W45 5UFF3R1N6 FR0M 3x7R3M3 D3LU510N5 4ND H4LLUC1N4710N5 MD: 47 50M3 P01N7 1 7H0UGH7 1 W45 4 P41L SH: sounds like fun roleplaying can i try some can i can i MD: 1 W0ULD N07 R3C0MM3ND 17 MD: H0W3V3R Y0U C0ULD B3 U53FUL 70 CL4R1FY 7H3 3FF3C75 45 W3LL 45 D3T3RM1N1N6 4NY 4DD1C71V3 PR0P3R7135 MD: V3RY W3LL, 1 W1LL F4C1L1T473 50M3 50P0R 5L1M3 4 Y0U MD: Y0U C4N PR0CUR3 5L1M3 FR0M Y0UR R3CUP3R4C00N SH: coooooool i cant wait this is gonna be soooo fuuunnnnn this is gonna be the best roleplay ever MD: 1 W1LL 1NF0RM Y0U WH3N 1 H4V3 53N7 7H3 5L1M3 MD: 4ND WH3N 17 4RR1V35 1 W1LL 1N57RUC7 Y0U 0N H0W T0 PR0P3RLY M1X TH3 5U8574NC35 SH: ok cant wait! malignantDerivative [MD] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] CG: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. CG: WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SEND ME. CG: ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME. CG: IS THAT WHY YOU SEND ME SOME SHITTY DRAWING OF SOME UGLY ASS DOG THING. CG: ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME KILL MYSELF FROM LOOKING AT THIS TERRIBLE THING THAT MAKES ME WANT TO DRIVE A CULLING FORK INTO MY BONE BULGE. SH: uhh no i was just showing you the drawing i made of all our friends CG: OH JEGUS CHRIST THATS WHAT THAT THING IS. CG: I MUST HAVE MISSED IT UNDER ALL THE SHITTY, SHITTY DRAWING SKILLS. CG: LIKE IF I WERE BEING ASSRAPED BY A RAGING MUSCLEBEAST AS FIDUSPAWN ATE MY ENTRAILS AND I LOST ALL MY FINGERS TO A TRAGIC PAIL ACCIDENT I COULD STILL DRAW A BETTER LOOKING PIECE OF SHIT THAN THAT. CG: HOW YOU CAN EVEN GO ON LIVING WHILE BEING SO TERRIBLE AND DUMB IS JUST MIND BOGGLING. CG: IT'S JUST BEYOND ME. SH: um well what i do is play around with twinkleberry and go out for food or play with my friends or talk to my friends or play with twinkleberry or draw or play by myself SH: like last time i was playing as heavenly hornless red being and i was punching evil heavenly being and shooting them and it was awesome and then twinkleberry jumped out because he was the endboss and threw me around but then i shot back and blam blam blam blam CG: JEGUS CHRIST SHUT UP I DON'T CARE. CG: IF YOU WERE TO MEASURE THE SIZE OF THE SHIT I'M NOT GIVING WITH AN ANTI MEASURING STICK IT WOULD BE SO UNBIG IT WOULD CAUSE ALL OF NONREALITY TO COLLAPSE. SH: uh ok CG: STOP SENDING ME SHITTY DRAWINGS. carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] SH: ok i was thinking of doing one with our lususessises next time ill send it to you! Code:
apocalypseWizard [AW] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] AW: s0 are you finally ready t0 accept it. AW: that we are all d00med. SH: oh SH: hi SH: um i still dont know what youre talking about AW: disaster will c0me to alternia. AW: many will die. AW: a desperate attempt to survive will be made by playing a game. AW: but in the end th0se surviv0rs will be d00med too. AW: because 0f an imp0ssible pr0t0typing. AW: they will create an enemy that cann0t be defeated. AW: and die. SH: sounds like a sad story whered you hear it AW: very well. AW: if you refuse to accept the truth, s0 be it. apocalypseWizard [AW] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] GA: So Have You Told Her Yet GA: You Have Certainly Been Dragging Your Feet With It Long Enough GA: In Spite Of My Repeated Insistence That You Talk To Her If Only To Stop Wondering GA: So Have You SH: uh no sorry i havent whats up what about you GA: No I Havent GA: I Suppose I Should Stop Dragging My Feet As Well GA: She Seems To Be Too Engrossed In Games And Roleplaying And Plundering For Me To Have A Chance To Tell Her GA: And I Must Confess Ive Grown Accustomed To The Current Status Quo SH: ok i got it we should both agree to confess at the same time SH: like three days from now ok? GA: What Is The Point Of Such An Agreement SH: its like a friend pact were doing it at the same time to support each other GA: Okay GA: I Guess That Makes Sense GA: I Will Confess In Three Days Then GA: As Will You GA: I Must Go Now GA: My Lusus Seems To Require Attention SH: ok talk to you later bye GA: Bye grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
bloodthirstyScallywag [BS] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] BS: ahoy tharrrrrrr! SH: oh hi hows it going BS: the seas be rrrrrough an the waves high but we rrrrride them with ease SH: being a pirate is soo coooool it is isnt it i wish i could be a pirate but theres no water near my cave though i like to pretend im a pirate when i play with twinkleberry which is fun BS: aaah, 'tis the life forrrrr me an my crrrrrew to be surrrre BS: trrrrrrreasure and booty and a bottle of rrrrrrrrum BS: though i dont rrrrrrrreally like that last bit but i think it be mandatorrrrrry SH: ive never tried rum but i do like treasure and booty those are fun and shiny BS: ye speak trrrrrrrue, matey! BS: but tis the adventurrrrrrrre that trrrrrruely excites a pirrrrrrate BS: battlin krrrrrraken BS: sailin frrrrrrom coast to coast BS: rrrrrrraidin the rrrrrrroyals BS: gettin yerrrr ass kicked by flarrrrrperrrrrs SH: um i dont think fighting pirates is what flarp is about BS: tell that to those gogdamn amateurrrrrrrrs BS: i wouldve got em too if they hadnt caught us by surrrrprrrrise SH: well i dunno i dont think any of my flarper friends do that i think BS: good forrrrr them BS: then we wont have any trrrrrrrouble! BS: you rrrrrrrreally should visit one day SH: i really want to but my hive isnt close to any of my friends or anywhere which suuuuuuckksssssss BS: my hive floats me hearrrrrrty BS: just head to the nearrrrrest coast! BS: well make a pirrrrrate of ye yet! SH: really thatll be great really cool i cant wait to be a pirate its going to be the best thing ill be like swashbuckling and getting booty oh man oh man when can you get here come on come on BS: well see wherrrrre the currrrrrents take me, eh? BS: till then tell this old soul how youve been SH: playing around with my lusus and my friends flarping and stuff and having fun its nice BS: id love to hearrrrrr morrrrrrre BS: but therrrrrre's a rrrrrrroyal off the porrrrrrrt bow BS: wish me luck SH: ok good luck have fun plunder a lot and swashbuckle and stuff bloodthirstyScallywag's computer has been obliterated by a cannonball SH: oh boy Code:
nerosAnthem [NA] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] NA: Good eeeeeevening, Zeb. NA: I trust you aaaaare well? NA: I aaaaaassure you, I aaaaam. NA: My seat by the fire iiiis... quite cozy. SH: yeah im doing okay its nice that you are whats new NA: Currently visiting aaaaaa friend. NA: He has been veeeeery hospitable. SH: ooooh sounds like fun i hope youre having a good time whats your friend like NA: Aaaaaan iiiiiimpetuous young gentleman NA: With aaaaaa... fiery temper SH: well i hope you have fun with your sleepover i wish i could have sleepovers but none of my friends live close and they dont want to stay in a cave NA: Oooh, the sleepover was eeeenormous fun. NA: I aaaaam roasting Saccharine Sponges oooover ooooour campfire. NA: I aaaaam having to maintain it myself, but my friend was kind enough to provide the fuel. SH: sounds like a good friend i wish i could have saccharine sponges more often but theyre hard to find around here which sucks because theyre sooooo gooooooodd im going to ask twinkleberry if we can have some NA: Aaaaan aaaaardent friend to be sure. NA: Aaaaaand never fear. NA: Perhaps I can visit you oooooone day. : ) NA: Then we can roast sponges aaaaaaas friends SH: yes i would like that someday when do you want to do it how about soon! NA: I have many friends to visit. NA: So many campfires to sit by. NA: We'll see where I drift next, oooookay? SH: ok fiiine NA: Aaaand convey my greetings to the Colonel, please. NA: I'm sure he longs to hear from me. : ) SH: ok i will bye talk to you later nerosAnthem [NA] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] GC: H1 TH3R3 GC: 4 L1TTL3 SP1D3R TOLD M3 W3 WOULD SOON B3 PL4Y1NG 4NOTH3R G4M3 SH: oh hi whats up yeah its gonna be fuuunnn i still have to get a clouder though i havent had the chance so many chums talking to me GC: 4 N3W CLOUD3R? GC: BUT YOUR OLD ON3 W4S SO MUCH FUN >: ] SH: i dont think he appreciated being manipulated so i dont think he wants to play again im just going to ask someone else dont know who yet SH: you two are so hard to beat being so much in cahoooooots SH: cahoots i say GC: C4HOOTS 4R3 4 GR34T 4ND WOND3FUL TH1NG GC: YOUR3 NOT M4D THOUGH >:? SH: well i know you two were having fun which is good and our games are always really fun but my clouders dont seem to think so i guess theyre a bit upset GC: H3H3H3H3H3 GC: P3RH4PS TH3Y 4R3 S1MPLY FRUSTR4T3D GC: ST1LL GC: B31NG 4 B4D LOS3R 1SNT 4 CR1M3 SH: i guess itd be silly to be hanged from the gallows for something like that GC: YOU C4N B3 H4NG3D FOR 4NY D33D YOU C4N 1M4G1N3 GC: 4ND SOM3 YOU C4NT GC: TH4T 1S TH3 B3ST TH1NG 4BOUT TH3 L3G4L SYST3M GC: BUT 4NYW4Y GC: TH4TS NOT WHY 1 W4NT3D TO T4LK SH: ok whats up what did you want to talk about GC: 1 W4NT3D TO G1V3 YOU 4 F41R W4RNING GC: M1NDF4NG PROM1S3D NOT TO M4NIPUL4T3 YOUR CLOUD3R GC: BUT W3 N3V3R S41D 4NYTH1NG 4BOUT NOT M4N1PULT4T1NG YOU SH: i thought that stuff didnt work on me because my blood was high and glowy or something GC: TH3R3S MOR3 TH4N ON3 W4Y TO SK1N 4 CL4WB34ST GC: NOT TH4T 1 WOULD GC: SOM3 OF MY B3ST FR13NDS 4R3 CL4WB34STS GC: BUT YOU G3T TH3 P1CTUR3 >: ] SH: i dont think i do but whatever ill get a clouder soon and we can start playing itll be fun like always okay GC: 1 LOOK FORW4RD TO 1T gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
smartyMcbarrelpants [SM] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] SM: greetings COMRADE SH: oh hey whats up dude hows it going im doin fine havin fun talking to friends and playing around what about you SM: playing? this is not a time for games SM: the REVOLUTION will soon be AT HAND SM: cast off your SHACKLES SH: um im not wearing shackles though and i dont want to take off my clothes SM: CHAINS then? SM: YOKES OF SERVITUDE? SH: uh nope SM: fuck SM: though you are a victim of our CLASS SOCIETY arent you? SH: i dont think so SM: okay but youre still joining in the GLORIOUS UPRISING right? SH: um uprising to do what SM: FREE ourselves from HIGHBLOOD REPRESSION SM: they are VILE AND DECADENT OPPRESSORS SM: look im sure i explained this to you before SH: i dunno i dont remember there were a lot of big words but i dont really get what youre talking about SP: okay look imagine a bunch of i dunno saccharine sponges SM: and the highbloods and the royals have all the sponges and they dont wanna share them allright SM: and i think thats wrong and we should have some sponges as well SH: i dunno a lot of my friends are highbloods and i think theyd share their sponges if they lived close to me SM: CLASS TRAITOR SM: uh i mean GOOD FOR YOU SM: okay so you know some nice highbloods but they arent all nice some of them are FILTHY OPPORTUNISTS SM: and im thinking if they dont wanna share their sponges we just have to make them share SM: its only fair SH: i dont really know any bad highbloods though or bad trolls really why would anyone be bad SM: okay look forget about the highbloods this is all about the sponges SM: you like sponges right? SH: um yeah but i dont want to be mean and take anyones itd be nice if they could share SM: okay you know what how about you sit out the REVOLUTION SM: well share our sponges with you afterwards kay? SH: ok thanks a lot i really like sponges! SM: anything for my COMRADES... smartyMcbarrelpants [SM] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
apocalypseArisen [AA] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] AA: hi there! AA: i just found an interesting rock! AA: how was your day? SH: okay i was playing with twinkleberry a lot it was fun a rock huh is it shiny there used to be neat shiny stuff like that around my cave but lately i havent found any i think i got them all SH: but i still have fun dressing up and pretend shooting and playing with my toys and playing with my friends AA: thats good! AA: im glad you have fun SH: oh right SH: ag and gc want to play flarp with me but i need a clouder will you be my clouder AA: playing with those two? AA: are you sure you can keep up? SH: well they always beat me but our games are always fun i just want a clouder they cant manipulate this time then i might win AA: ok sure ill be your clouder! AA: we need a cool name to compete with team scourge though AA: hmmmmmmmm SH: what about team awesome or team red or team sparklyshines or wait wait i got it SH: we can be team extreme SH: its the best because it rhymes AA: hehehe AA: i like it! AA: the scourge sisters better watch out for team extreme! SH: ok let me just finish talking to some chums and then we can play itll be great AA: ill be waiting! apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
sanguineVanguard [SV] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] SV: HAlt! Who goes there!? SH: um its me you know whats up how are you SV: Are yOU imPLYing that I DOn't know who you ARe!? SH: well you asked so i dunno SV: HarUMPH! SV: It's the PRINciple of the thing! SV: Wouldn't exPECt a ciVILLian to understand! SH: i dont think i do SH: oh right na said hida SV: He ASKed you to say HI?! SV: Can't even FACE me now?! SV: What, is he too BUsy trying on drESSes for his TEA parties in between setting my MEN's hives on FIre?! SH: um i dunno he said he was having a sleepover with a friend and he told me to say hi SV: By GOG, if I ever get my HAnds on him, I will REAch up his protein chute, TEAR out his liver and SHOve it down his windhole! SV: See him TRY set things on fire when he's CHOking on his internal organs! SH: um wow ok well you two kismets should really try to talk out your problems im not sure im the best person to auspistice SV: How DAre you!? SV: He's no KISmesis of mine! A TROll who doesn't have the GUts to DUel me when I challenge him has NO place in my QUAdrants! SV: Though a few good trolls have gone AWOL! >: ( SV: He'll PAy for that! SH: well that sucks i hope you find your friends! SV: I fear that I WOn't! And that I why I must find HIM inSTEAd! SV: That does not mean ANYthing though, are we clEAR on that?! SH: ok sure fine SV: And now my TROOps call! SV: We are Oskar Mike to point D, 12 clicks south! SV: Weapons hot, FAW! SV: MOVE OUT! SH: aye aye capn! SV: I SWEar, if you were in my boot camp... SV: I mean ! sanguineVanguard [SV] ceased trolling spectacularHellion [SH] Code:
galileosHarbinger [GH] began trolling spectacularHellion [SH] GH: Thë möön ďs ďn thë sëvënth höüsë. GH: Öne öf thëm ďs, änywäy GH: Ď kindä löst träck SH: thats neat hey whats up how are you GH: Stďll präctďcďng thë mystďcäl ärt of dďvďnätďön GH: Äs händëd döwn by my äncëstörs pröbäbly SH: thats cool i like stars theyre really shiny have you divined anything yet GH: Ühm... GH: Yës öf cöürsë nöw Ď sëë! GH: Thë stärs thëy tëll më thät... GH: Wäďt... GH: Yöü ärë äll döömëd! Yës. SH: buh? SH: you sound like my other friend he keeps saying that GH: Wäďt whät GH: Höw därë hë stëäl my ďdëäs SH: i dont know about that i dont think he has that wouldnt really make sense how would he do it GH: Dö nöt qüëstďön my ärcänë knöwlëdgë! SH: um ok but still its a really weird divination SH: i really like stars though sometimes twinkleberry and i just go out and look up at them for a long long time GH: Yës, thëy ärë bëäütďfül ärën't thëy GH: Ëvën whën yöü dön't cömmünë wďth thëm lďke Ď dö SH: i know right theyre so bright and shiny GH: Änd dön't förgët twďnkly GH: Sömeönë shöüld wrďtë ä söng äböüt thät SH: anyway what else is up with you GH: My Lüsüs häs bëën büggďng më tö gët öüt mörë SH: you really should twinkleberry and i have all the fun outside all of it its the best thing GH: Öh? Whät ďs ďt yöü dö? SH: we play games and pretend fight and run around and play tag and climb and fight feralhounds its fun GH: My lüsüs ďs nöt önë för gämës. GH: Büt mäybë Ď wďll gďvë ďt änöthër try SH: you really should its a lot of fun SH: oh crap i forgot i have a game to play with my friends and im late bye ill talk to you later be safe! spectacularHellion [SH] ceased being trolled by galileosHarbinger[GH] You excitedly step out of your hive to play Flarp with your buds and frag some bitches. Woohoo! > Be the worst troll.
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Dracorion's dumbass color is Royal Blue. If you see that color, you better run the fuck away. Last edited by Dracorion; 09-02-2011 at 05:48 PM. |
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09-03-2011, 01:08 AM
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#84 | |
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An eagle with the head of a turtle-
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: and the body of a turtle.
Posts: 1,371
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> Be FUTURE Caoway.
You are now Caoway of the near future. You find yourself on an island full of lush foliage and vines, which you appearified next to after you entered the first gate. You have just spent the last few minutes meeting with the native folks and engaging your friends in some embarrassing conversations, the logs of which would prove to be a most humorous read. Right now you are scampering through the brush, chasing after a winged imp, who stole your only husktop just as you were about to start serving your client. Accompanying you is a small reptile who may in fact be the worst fisherperson to have ever picked up a rod. What will you do? > FUTURE Caoway: Kill the imp. You would kill this winged imp what nabbed your husktop if you could just get your hook into it! Stupid thing keeps fluttering just out of reach. Stupid wings. You are going to sock whoever is responsible for giving these guys the ability to fly. And, to make this situation that much more unbearable, this spastic crocodile thing refuses to stop fidgeting and shut his nek-hole. Damn it, Gil! That book isn't really haunted and it's not going to kill you, it was just a misanthropic friend from another planet, who may or may not suffer from Asperger's, being a sopping sack of globes and messing with you! Why can't you understand this incredibly confusing fact? > FUTURE Caoway: Shoot the bastard. Nah, he's annoying sure but he hasn't done anything to warrant an early retirement. Oh you mean the imp. Well, genius, if you were to shoot this imp, you'll probably destroy the husktop along with it and would thus have effectively killed the aforementioned friend. Friend-killing is still counter-productive by the way. > FUTURE Caoway: Placate companion. You thrust the decrepit pole-and-line you found earlier unto Gil's claws. He asks what exactly is this knick-knack that you just gave him? You tell him that it is mystical artifact that protects whoever wears it from evil spirits that possess books. Really he asks. Yes really, you reply, and also it grants the wearer unparalleled maritime lifeform reaping prowess. He neks in confusion. It means that you will be a great fishercaiman, you clarify. He lets out an excited nek and swings it around with reckless abandon. You urge him to go back to the cove and try it out. Oh yesssss he cries out and then bids you a farewell before scampering away. There, now you can murder the imp in peace. > FUTURE Caoway: Sneak up on imp. The little shit's perched on limangoran nut tree hanging over the water, looks like he's trying to gnaw on the husktop. Stupid fuckwit. You slowly circle around, cautious placing each step so that you don't accidentally snap a twig or some other cliché. You put away the rod, for with all of the growth in this area it will most likely get caught on something, and take out your awesome new oar. Steal your husktop? You better believe that's a paddling. Slosh. Slish. Slosh. Slish. Slosh. Slish. Your heartbeat falls in rhythm with the ebb and flow of the surf as you climb the trunk and draw near to your prey. You must leave nothing to chance, for you see you have already wasted enough time chasing this thing and your friend could very well be a smoking smear in the ground so why are doing this stupid parallelism bullshit? Enough waiting, just do it do it do it! Smash smash smash SMASH! Oh YEAAAAH you're a pile grist now you- oh no. The imp dissolves into grist and you look on stupidly as the husktop falls right down into the ocean with a big kerplunk. Way to go, numbglobes. > FUTURE Caoway: Inform Client about the latest development. You message Derpah and tell him what has transpired and try to assure him to wait just a little bit longer. He doesn't message you back immediately. This worries you. > FUTURE Caoway: Descend. You prepare for a short underwater expedition but unfortunately we can't show this to you because it involves an outfit that you haven't yet alchemised. And that would ruin the surprise. So why don't you be someone else. > CURRENT Caoway: Make a face at the imps milling around your hive. You are now Caoway of the present (or recent past, it's pretty hard to keep track.) just after you did your first victory interpretive dance inside the medium. You make a scary face that, coupled with a sudden and well timed flash of lightning, sends the loitering imps running straight off the edge of the cliff. Looks like you frighten them more than the hounds do. These cowardly bilgerats won't dare mess with you now, so you should be safe to walk around, at least until the next prototyping anyway. > Caoway: Climb Echeladder. That last victory against three x3 prototyped minions earned you so much notoriety, it's practically unthinkable for someone who entered their land less than two hours ago. You rise to new heights like no one's business. Past EVERY LITTLE BIT HELPS, over GROUPER GRUB, above SCUPPER SPRAT. Hell, even the likes of ANGLE BIGHTER, LIKE A STURGEON, SURLY URCHIN, UNDERBITE UPSTART, SALTY NINNY, SAND LOBBER, ANCHOR CRANKER, SHORE LEAVER, and SEA-LEGGED SOURPUSS are so far beneath you they may as well be in the orlop. Dear player, you are now situated upon the legendary rung of the BUOY-SEASHARK and sport the handsome goatee/half-mustache combo that comes with it! Your GEL VISCOSITY increases significantly and your already sizable MANGRIT has risen a bit as well. > Caoway: Get paid. BOONDOLLARS shoot out like cloud vapor from a sky whale's spout. Your CERAMIC PORKHALLOW is swimming through this pool of new found wealth like some kind of a water fowl business tycoon with a silly inaccurate accent. You're pretty sure that this is something to be excited about even though you have no idea what these coins are for. > Caoway: Pick up grist and retrieve your bell. You scamper around and gather up the fresh minion leavings. Most of the grist in your inventory numbers in quadruple digits now, but the cache limit has expanded as well so you can still feel like you haven't horded nearly enough materials. For clarification, you now have 2460 Build Grist, 1201 Calcium, 592 Quartz, and 312 Silica. As for the cup and clanger, it's still at the end of your line so you just reel it in. Or what's left of it anyway. That's what happens you drop the full brunt of a useless tool plus his buddies and a giant cruxite fish on top of an antique. > Caoway: Mourn the loss of your beloved keepsake. It was a good instrument and it served you well these many sweeps. You'll miss it, but really it's not something worth sobbing in the corpse pile over. Besides it's the memories attached to it that you care about, not the object itself. You drop it off the cliff and never look back. > Caoway: Tend to wounds. The gel cubes dropped by the hounds restored your vial to full health, but they didn't do much for the two grievous wounds you sustained earlier. You pull off your sweater and apply some of the mind honey to the cuts and wrap them up with cruxite gauze and bandages produced by your loyal spirit guide. There's still the matter of blood loss as well. You're actually feeling tiny bit dizzy, in fact. As it happens, you have just the thing in your Sustenance Storage Block to fix this. The thing that you absolutely cannot stand the taste of. > Caoway: Go to the outdoor block. You move east and arrive in front one of the offshoots of your hive. The door swings to reveal that you have indeed mixed up blocks again, for this is the loadgaper and it is currently occupied by an imp with televisions for eyes who is vandalizing one of your journals. He freezes mid-page-tear and stares up at you with the most pitiable look of embarrassment imaginable, like a ramraptor who's ward just walked in on the beast as it was humping the furniture. > Caoway: Send him to a watery grave. You don't really know what a grave is since trolls don't bury their dead, they either just leave them where they drop or, if they're like you, take the body home and stuff and mount it. Still, death by liquid is definitely in this imp's future. You grab it by the top of its head and dunk it face first into the gaper. The imp splutters and struggles but you continue to force its face under. Finally it goes limp and explodes into grist. > Caoway: Go to the other outdoor block. You scurry over the the Sustenance Storage Block and swing the door open to reveal... more imps. These ones appear to be having a mock sword battle with your pickled miniature marlins. They halt their pretend skirmish as soon as you open the door and then they try to charge you. Looks like certain imps didn't see the scary face. Sucks to be them. ========> In a spray of splinters and grist, two new portals are punched into the block from within. That'll learn 'em. Well, they would've learned a lesson if you hadn't punched them into grist anyway. > Caoway: Do what you came here to do. You were just about to. Here's what you came in for, this nauseating rainbow-colored bunch of big nut looking things hanging in the net here. These here are what are known as LIMANGORAN-NUTS, a very common type of tropical produce found on islands in the tropics of Alternia and one of the key ingredients in FRUIT TROLL-UPS. These things are highly valued by sailors as they are loaded with all the vitamins and nutrients that keep a seaman STRONG. They're the best thing around for preventing scurvy and they are even proven to help with bloodloss and accelerate the healing process. You absolutely despise these things. The stupidly colored shells, the overly-sweet tie-dye milk, and the flesh that has the consistency of wet shag carpeting. You hate eating these things, but considering the pounding you just took and all, you don't really have a choice. You pluck one out and pierce the shell with your pointy horn. Okay, here it goes. ========> Ugh, yuck. ========> Gross. ========> Oh lord, this is so deliriously biznasty. It's taking everything you've got to not bluh right now! ========> Uck, here comes the solid parts... ========> It's... DONE. It wasn't easy but you devoured all the edible parts of that awful thing. Already you can feel the restorative properties of the nut working their magic. Except it isn't really magic, it's simple science. Magic is fake. You want to know what's real? This taste in your mouth, ugh! You chew on a few salt-cured kippers to rid your tongue of that awful sugary taste. Much better. It's a shame you're not an accomplished gourmancer, otherwise you could taken that nut and used it to make a much more palatable dish. > Caoway: Stop being a baby and go get the grist. You don't really know what exactly you were called just now but you take offense to that! That stuff was seriously disgusting and warranted making faces expressing that disgust. Anyways, you captchalogue the LIMANGORAN-NUTS ( thus ejecting the canvas onto a pickle barrel) and walk outside. You pick up the grist dropped by the imps you pulverized and notice a few grists over near the stump. Strange, you don't remember battling anything over there. > Caoway: Gather up stump grist. You walk over and gather up the unaccounted for building materials. There appears to be something else here as well. ========> That something is a very dirty and very old side-arm. From warmth of barrel and the smell of cordite, this has been fired recently. Of course, it's a wonder this thing could even fire at all. The gun is covered in patches of rust, the trigger guard is broken off, the wood on the grip is all but rotted away, and the slide is stuck so the darn thing can't load another round into the chamber. By your conservative estimate, this thing must be at least 9000 sweeps old. Yes, that sounds right. You quite sure that that is the correct age of this artifact. But this begs the question, where did this gun come from? From here in the medium? Or was it always on your island to begin with? If so, where was it hidden until now? > Caoway: Put down the gun and step away from the stump. Put it... down? Why would you do that? Just kidding, you place it next to stump and spot a small hole amidst the roots. Could the gun have come from under the stump? > Caoway: Flip the stump up like it were the hinged covering to an underground tunnel. What do you know, it worked. You don't find a tunnel but a large chest instead! Outrageous! To think that there was ancient gamblinant booty hidden on your island this entire time, who could've guessed? Well, maybe it's not that surprising, since you found your first mementos in the blast crater where you built your hive. But you bet there's some cooler stuff in this chest than a cup-and-clanger and a book written in moon-speak. > Caoway: Present time, present time! Open a present, see what's inside According to the Alternian laws of the sea, since you found this buried vault before the original owner could come back and claim it, you are now the rightful owner and thus entitled to all of it contents! You pull the chest out of the hole, noting a small hole in the side of it where the gun no doubt fell out, and pop open the top. Let's see what we got- ========> First up is a ratty old SEAFARER'S OVERCOAT. Looks like that breach in the box allowed some dirt creatures make a meal out most of it, the ends of the sleeves and tails are in tatters. Kind of a disappointing find, really. Though it might be exciting to imagine whoever wore it originally. These kinds of coat are usually reserved for high ranking officers in the conquisterminators, so it's very likely that the original owner was the captain of a military ship. Hey, that's not an exciting thought at all, that just means that holding some ancient slit-neck's dirty laundry! Argh! Oh wait, you turn it around and see the insignia on the back. It's that letter that looks like anchor, like the one you have on your sweater, in your blood color no less. However, the letter has been emblazoned with it smashing through the common wavy letter reserved for the ruling class, making it look like an anchor crashing into the waves. You are left in awe at this brilliant use of symbolism, representing someone of your blood overcoming the control of royalty. It's pretty clear now that whoever owned this was a seafarer with their own ship, had zero respect for caste system, and apparently didn't like royals all that much. Now they seem a lot more interesting. Well, as interesting as a long dead person can be anyway. > Caoway: Wear the coat. Be the captain. You can't really be the captain if you don't have a ship to command. And a real ship mind you, not like the dinghy you got parked in the lawnring. Plus, you're not the leaderly type. And this thing is really dirty and itchy, not to mention far too big for you. You're practically swimming in this torn up piece of shit. The person who wore this must have been freaking huge. You take it off and throw it on top of the flipped up stump. You don't think you'll be wearing this article of clothing, although you might be inclined to borrow the symbol. It is pretty darn rad. ========> Okay, what else do we got in here? It appears to be an ANCIENT POLE-AND-LINE. Look at this thing, weapons grade steel line! Motorized winch for auto-reel action! A telescopic pole so it can be as long or as short as need be! Built-in tacklifier with magnetronic homing hooks for enemies, grist, and hookable points which you can use for scaling up walls! And what has to the best grip in the whole of paradox-space! This is the kind of pole-and-line that one would use to fish for kings! With a tool like this in your hands, you could power through the rest of the game without breaking a sweat! Or at least you would if this thing weren't centuries old and a decrepit piece of garbage. Guess you'll have to stick with old reliable for now. ========> Next up is... oh wow, a VINTAGE FETCH MODUS CONTROL DECK! Sharl's always been trying to get you to buy one of these things off him but you could never scrape together enough caegers or valuable goods for trading. Finding one of these just sitting around like it's no big deal in your own lawnring is such an amazing discovery, you're on the verge of going into hysterics. And, unlike all the other things in this chest, this thing is made of nintendium, that special kind of material that is sure to never break down, no matter how many sweeps have past. That means that you can actually use this thing! And looks like it came packed with a dozen captchalogue cards and two modus cartridges! Outrageous! It's like 12th perigee's eve up in here! > Caoway: Fool around with the modus. You give the first cartridge a blow and put it in. This one is called the TOP CURRENT MODUS, it moves the artifacts in your sylladex around based on the temperature of the objects, which you aren't really sure how the modus determines. With this on, the artifacts are always being washed around and the one available to you is constantly being changed. Well, at least you can see where which artifact is where, rather than mucking about waiting for a bite. Still, you imagine this will get old fast. Next up is the FATHOM MODUS, which is a lot like the TIDAL MODUS except you can store much larger objects and is based on buoyancy. The downside to this is that as you gain more items, you run the risk of the heavier artifacts sinking too far down in the sylladex and getting crushed by the pressure. This one seems like a double headed culling fork to you. > Caoway: Slap on all of the modii. Not wanting to waste time with trying x2 combinations, you just put all the modii in at once. This transforms your SYLLADEX into a full blown OCEAN MODUS, with buoyant artifacts being carried along slowly in shipping lanes, moving from one end of SYLLADEX to the other and then back again, with things occasionally washed on the shore for easy access. Heavier objects sink down but you can keep them from going down too far if they're placed just before the continental shelf. Best of all, you can still fish things out but now you can actually see what your getting. The bad parts are that this now functions entirely like the OCEAN, and the moon, temperature and weather all effect it now. And if it washes things out, it'll be in a much bigger way. Still this is pretty goddamn cool. Another victory for the fishertroll. You wonder what else is in this chest. ========> And you find... a laminated note written in more of that gobbledygook. Probably nothing important. You place it back in and pull out the last object, a stuffed and mounted bass. The fact that it has survived all these sweeps and remained mostly intact is testament to the owner's superb taxidermy skills. Not that impressive though, you got like a million more like this- Hold the sails, is that a button? Could this possibly be? You've often heard tales of ancient MARITIME LIFEFORM REAPERS who drove whole aquatic species into extinction and one those being the legendary BASS OF DANCEWORTHY CROONING. Some say that they found a way to preserve the creature's voice even after death, allowing for all to enjoy their wonderful melodies long after they were gone. It is told that to hear its soul soothing serenade is to know true beauty and everlasting inner peace. > Caoway: press button. You do just that. ========> The fish turns its head and lets loose a volley of machine-gun fire from its open mouth that just barely misses your head and perforates an imp who was sneaking up behind you. You drop the fish immediately and tuna-roll to safety. ========> Well, that was obviously a booby trap. The chest's previous owner might've been a bit of a nut. You really need to be more careful and not just go pressing buttons because some idiots say it's a great idea. You quickly store all these objects plus the chest in your sylladex. > Caoway: Hey, what's with the imps? What is with them? They all look different, sort of kangarooish. Does that one have a question mark? Uh-oh, there must have been another entry or two. Now these guys are feeling a bit more courageous and are beginning to circle you. > Caoway and Beechiesprite: Punch your way through the crowd while yelling out demoralizing names at the imps. BRIGANDS! SCALLYWAGS! BILGE-RATS! FRESHWATER SWABS! JELLYFISH FONDLERS! SALTY SWINES! TROGLODYTES! ENDOPLASMS! FUCKERS! Okay, you've run out of salty vernacular and have made it inside your hive. You close the hatch and have Beechiesprite place a big grouper in front of it. Now would be a fantastic time to get some new gear. You hope that Leraje is feeling up to it. > Caoway: Troll Server. MC: Ahoy, Lera/je. MC: Um, are you feelinG\ okay now? MC: BecauS\e I really nee/) S\ome help. ========>
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09-24-2011, 01:20 PM
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#85 |
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Strike the Earth!
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Canada
Posts: 3,185
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> Be the client Troll |
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09-24-2011, 10:16 PM
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#86 |
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Feelin' Super!
Join Date: May 2009
Posts: 4,191
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> Leraje: Ride monster like a mechanical bull.
The Banshee thrashes left and right trying to force Leraje to dismount. Chains clang and become entangled, but the creature does not relent. With its birdlike talons, it attempts to reach behind itself to shake off the young troll, but it can only deal several fleeting scratches upon the Mage's face. It continues to howl and wail as it storms out the halls of the hive, Leraje still latched on tightly. A nearby IRON IMP clamps ts claws onto its ears, but still explodes into Grist due to the high pitched screaming. Once outside the confines of the HIVE, the beast soars upwards beyond the roof, and for a fleeting moment, Leraje finds himself almost withing leaping distance of the FIRST GATE. Its only fleeting though. Within moments, the Banshee lets go of its flight and begins to crash back towards the ground at frightening speeds. *THUD* Leraje hits the ground with a sickening crash. His limbs ache, and his health bar has dropped almost halfway. He seems to still be able to walk though, so nothing is broken - at least not severely. The BANSHEE wasn't so lucky, and a pile of TAR and BUILD grist litters the ground all across Leraje's little Island above the chasm. ========> *CLANG * *clang* *CLANG* It was almost as though Aldurin was being taunted by the sound. It fluctuated in tone, as though he was moving in distance. A loud echo, as though he was right behind you, and a soft din as though he was still outside the Hive. It was an odd thought, was a drone really sentient enough to intentionally try to frighten someone? There appearance alone usually had the affect in and of itself. *clang* Oh shut up. The meteor was drawing nearer. It wasn'tt even that one meteor either. Although the one that loomed above the greyblood's laboratory easily dwarfed almost all the rest that were assailing Alternia's surface, it was not alone. The sky itself lit up brightly as the metal balls of fire cascaded through the clouds. The oceans were in turmoil, the land was ruptured. It was clear to anyone who may have once doubted that this was the end of days for Alternia. *CLANG* And the only thing that stood between Aldurin and survival was this monster. With nothing but two dented buckets in hand, it cracked a hole through the tightly sealed walls, two bright red eyes glaring at the conduit through the crack he had created. A large, clawed hand shot through the hole, looking almost as though there was a gauntlet over it, and it pulled backwards ripping away more of the foundation with its immense strength. Aldurin was in the mythical state of PERIL THREEFOLD. The meteor hovered overhead, the drone was right at his wall, and he still needed his server to come through for the last moments he had. Was he up to the task? ========> As Reztek runs down to the SUB BASEMENT, Jack takes a moment to pull out a crumpled PARKING CITATION and QUILL and scrawls down 6 figures on the paper. On the top margin, it reads TARGETS. There seems to be 5 BLACK CARAPACES and 1 WHITESHELLED DELINQUENT put down for elimination, accompanied by crude drawings and a title. He then descends down the stairs behind Reztek, withdrawing the list and handing it to him. He says they will discuss the specifics of the figures later, but they need to die for real progress. He also draws his knife once more, and pushes it towards the musician. This time however, it was not a gesture of hostility, but rather one of generosity. His open palm contained the clean and slick BAIT AND SWITCH BLADE, light gleaming off of its black surface. "You were helpless back there," he says with a bit of a snarl. "You'll need a weapon to be useful." How thoughtful of him. >Be the Doctor You are now Nasryl, working off some loose definition of the word 'doctor'. You find yourself still crying like a wriggler in your operating room after entry, but your tears slowly dissipate as something dawns on you. It smells awful here! God, its as though an ODOR VERMIN walked in, dropped a big load on the carpet, and then died. You stumble out of the cramped and bloodstained room and into the LOBBY. You need to get in contact with your server. You open your OPERATION MODUS revealing a large figure of a PATIENT. To obtain the items from your clunky inventory, you have to retrieve it with SURGEON LIKE PRECISION. If you mess up, then the patient makes this annoying as fuck honking noise and the item gets lodged deeper into the patient's body, becoming harder to fish out. If you fail to many times, the PATIENT becomes a CADAVER and you have to perform an autopsy to find your items, which takes a very long time. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out your pair of tweezers and slowly reach in to getthe card with your HUSKTOP. Carfully... wait for it... steady... YES! You are KING of this game! At least you are an ace fake doctor. The yellow HUSKTOP is now safely in your hands. You open up the device and find that Aldurin has already contacted you. SHOW LOG You look up from your computer to see a SULFURIC IMP is glaring right at you from the other end of the hallway. You panic as it slowly approaches you, and in your indecision, you charge right at it in a frenzy. It is stunned as you collide with it, pushing it over, and you head for the stairs to find higher ground. =======>  You are now Glissa and you are flipping the fuck out. SHOW LOG You briefly flop on the ground like a beached fish before giving a weak glub and falling unconscious. >Years in the Future... ..but not many. A CASTOFF SCROUNGER looks over the large screen presented before him with shifty eyes. His head barely rises above the keyboard, and he awkwardly raises a stocky white arms to type in a message. >Girl, stop all this lying around >Seriously wake up >WAKE UP The squat carapace, garbed in torn canvas and ducts tape, gives a grunt in annoyance. And she had the nerve to call him a layabout! As far as he could see, she was still asleep, but then, there is always more than what one sees on the surface. >Be someone who isn't pathetic You fail. You are now a MARBLE IMP, and you have been sent to enact a HIT against the KEEPER. There is a bit of a discrepancy with what you set out to do, and what you are going now however. To put it bluntly, he's a cold blooded dude. You hid like a pansy behind a large BOOKSHELF after you saw what he did to another one of your comrades. No hesitation in his eyes, he just messed that guy up. A pile of grist in one second flat. You never even knew that someone could do that with a book. He saw you as you ran as well. You know it. Just a slight cock of the head in your direction and you took off. Behind those tinted glasses of his was malice though, you could feel it. The soft tapping of his shoes grow nearer as you breathe heavily. You're exhausted, but he's only been walking. Its as though he knows every passage and corridor of this tome filled labyrinth by memory. You lift a singly scythed hand in terrified defiance as he approaches you expressionless, his book in one hand. There's oly one way this encounter can end. =========> Last edited by Bard The 5th LW; 12-22-2011 at 02:51 AM. |
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10-30-2011, 09:21 PM
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#87 | ||
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So Dreamy
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Someplace magical
Posts: 6,863
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=========>
You are now GORRMA. Before you float several INGREDIENTS, but not quite enough to make a full cake. >Ugh. Still? Isn't she dead yet? No. >Damn it!!! You attempt to DAMN something. Your attempts fail. You don't have the ability to cast objects, sentient or otherwise, into the unholy abyss. Your OPTIMISM falls by three points. You are, however, very good at COOKING AND EATING THINGS. Maybe you should rethink your strategy? >Ugh, fine. Examine ingredients. In front of you sits a BOWL. In front of you sits a BAG OF FLOUR. In front of you sits a WOODEN SPOON. In front of you sits a CARTON OF HELL-FOWL EGGS. In front of you sits a BAG OF SUGAR. In front of you sits a BOTTLE OF VANILLA EXTRACT. In front of you sits a BOX OF BAKING POWDER. What will you do? >Consider options. It's not enough to bake a CAKE. It seems as though you're in a bit of a pickle here. >STOP SAYING THAT. It's not enough to bake a CAKE. It seems as though you're in a bit of a sticky situation here. You really can't bake anything without butter, for starters. Milk would be useful too. What you'd REALLY like, though, is something to kick up the flavor a bit. This cake is going to be pretty bland as it is right now, and that's an affront to Gourmancy as an art form. >Go get milk and butter and stuff. Are you STUPID or something?! Did you forget about the HORRIFIC BLAZING INFERNO that lurks just outside your door?! Hot enough to SEAR FLESH FROM BONE before your THOUGHT-ORGAN could even begin to register the EXCRUCIATING PAIN!?! The butter's probably melted by now. Duh. ...unless the ice chest in the basement survived..... >Weigh options. Wait. This is it. This is the ultimate Gourmancy dilemma. Your BLOOD-PUMP-ORGAN skips a beat. The Gourmancer's Foil. Does one suffer for one's art, pushing oneself to physical extremes to create the perfect dish, or does one blaze new trails, taking artistic risk in a great gamble to create a new, substitute recipe? One path risks the Gourmancer's own life as well as the future of the dish, the other risks the Gourmancer's credibility as well as the integrity of the final project. Decades of philosophical discourse has been dedicated to this exact dilemma, although most of the discussions usually ended with one Gourmance-Philosopher getting angry and killing and eating the others before a real solution could be agreed upon. And now it was up to you to make the final decision. The TIMER ticks away, mercilessly counting down the seconds before you, your hive, and all of your hard work as a chef are destroyed. All your work... You've done so much! You can still DO so much! You reach for the door handle. It can't be that far... If... If you could just make it to the lower level of the hive.... You have so much you could use! So many ways this cake could become a masterpiece! Your skills... You can't let them go to waste. You can make it. The fire... it... it can't be that bad! Your HUSKTOP pings. You look over your shoulder, back to the trial and your waiting SERVER PLAYER. Sharl must be wondering what you're doing. You take your hand off the door handle. The others. If you die in the flames, what chance will they have to survive in the game? No. They need you. They need you more than the cake. As much as it pains you to say it, the cake... isn't as important as getting into the game. It's not as important as your friends. But that doesn't mean you have to do a lackluster job! Your RESOLVE grows by three points!! Quote:
>Get the show on the road. You rub your palms together, planning your attack. No milk or butter-- that's okay, it'll be Vegan. There's some vegetable oil on the shelf. That'll work fine. You scour the pantry shelves around you-- they're a bit bare compared to other storage blocks in your hive, but you're a Gourmancer! Necessity is the mother of invention and you're gonna invent the hell out of this thing! Your CREATIVITY takes control, throwing you into an artistic fury as items are judged, tasted, measured, and tossed into the growing bowl of cake batter. You finally finish, stirring your ingredients together and licking the spoon to taste your new concoction. Quote:
You spread the batter in the glowing green cake pan and toss it in the oven. You hope you did the right thing. Well, there was only one way to find out. You look uneasily at the timer. Will it stop? Will you live?
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11-18-2011, 12:53 AM
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#88 | |
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An eagle with the head of a turtle-
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: and the body of a turtle.
Posts: 1,371
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> I can't handle the suspense.
Most sentient lifeforms can't. Why don't you try playing as someone else for a while? Let's say... ID? ========> Still standing on top of bug station and enjoying the scenery. What will you do now? > ID: Stop putting yourself in potential peril and get back inside the flutterby. You decide that standing on top of a giant metal insect flying thousands of feet in the air is just a bit more dangerous than it is cool, so you scamper back down and close the hatch. You now stand at the entryway to the station's inner chamber. A panel with a diagram is still situated on the left side of the door. That didn't stop being a thing that existed. It's so shiny and tantalizing, not touching it would be a crime against your own nature. > ID: Go back to the monitor room and prepare for imminent landing. You head back into the monitor room, but you decide against preparing for any sort of touching down. You have no idea where this thing is going. It could be hours before you reach its destination, maybe even days. > ID: Take stock of your inventory. Torn-up book, bunch of origami figures, warm soda, empty chest, shades, and still packing canned goods. What now? > ID: Construct a rudimentary slide and take it for a ride. Wheeeee-ow-ouch! ========> Yeah, pretty much no way it wasn't going to fall apart mid-slide. You kick this useless stack of crap in anger. > ID: Obliquely reference future events by playing with the origami figures that represent the troll kids. You already made some future references earlier during that solitary one-sided rap-off. Remember? Oh, did you block that out? You probably did, didn't you? Whatever, no one's here to judge you so you may as well play some games for test-tube babies. ========> Oh, look at me! I'm a little snot with stupid hair and horrible taste in music who thinks that following the plans of a stab-happy, universe-hating suck is a good idea. Oh, would you look at that! All these people hate me now, how did that happen? ========> Duh, make way for Sir Fidgetbottom, on a quest from God to make him or some such nonsense! Time for me to put all that maturity I learned from living in a cave and playing with dolls to good use. Oooooooooops! ========> Someone's in trouble! Don't worry, friend idiot! Your two idiot friends are rushing to the warehouse of death to make things better for you. Oh my goodness, we've become a flurry of dismembered limbs! We never saw this coming! ========> Grr, I'm angry at everything and a prosecutor for some reason. Look at how dapper I am. Can you handle this level of dashingness? I think not. Now to engage in silly courtroom dramas where I'm made out to be a fool. Also, the judge is sort of ADD. Who made him judge? Who I ask you? Hate-smooch time for no good reason! ========> Derpty-derp, here comes Captain Sadly McCrapface and his firstmate, Jerkwit. We're going to do a whole bunch of boring exposition and adventuring, as well ruin this one totally awesome lady's life, for we are assholes and there is no going against our assholish nature. Oh look, her comes Lady Fishstink Buttlass, just in time to generate a whole lot of romantic tension. Whatever shall we do? I'll show what you can do you little-! ========> Okay, you just worked yourself into a frenzy and have ripped up the dolls. You calm down and the horror of what you've done dawns on you. You've murdered your poor defenseless paper children. Little folded people guilty of no crime other than resembling those kids you hate. Even then, they're not to blame for that. They are as you made them after all. Every bad thing that has transpired is all your fault. All of it. Oh god, what have you done? > ID: Make some replacement origami people and get on with your life. Some quick folds and you have some new tiny parchment effigies of those troll bastards. No permanent harm done. Not everything has to be a federal issue. Maybe now is a good time to do something other than play with paper. You are a grown woman after all. Time to start acting like it. > ID: Go back to entryway and fiddle with the diagram. You give in to your overwhelming curiosity, race back to the entryway, and deliver a poke to the triangley fractal symbol on the touchscreen. ========> The entryway rotates 120 degrees and a new doorway appears. > ID: Explore. You cautiously creep into the mouth leading into the unknown. You travel down the hall until you reach another entryway. Once inside, you find a room that is about the same size as the previous one and holds a whole new assortment of technological wonders. A console with a big unsegmented monitor showing the image of more than a dozen small spirographs chained to a middle spirograph on one side of the screen and a big sphere with two satellites on the other. An arrow currently points to the sphere. A marked yellow length of wood leans on its side. On the other side of the interface is a platform under what looks to be the barrel to a giant old fashioned ray gun. You wonder what all this could be for? > ID: Stop being ID and start being ID(?). You stop being the Intractable Drifter and are back to being the Imperial Deskjockey. The squad of underlings you requisitioned for has finally arrived and begun cleaning up the carnage. One of them tried to inquire about how all these office workers to came to be pushing up daisies, but you quickly and rather cunningly changed the subject by backhanding that imp so hard that his glasses flew off. Nobody else asked any questions after that. ========> Still, even with these minions hard at work and well on their way to making this place spotless, you can't help but worry a little. The backlog of paperwork that's been piling up, the odd rise in untimely demises notifications for home-front personnel, not to mention this particular regiment of goons was supposed to be lying in wait for the Hero of Prosperity before you called them here. There's a good chance somebody outside of this department might have noticed all these strange occurrences and alerted your Glorious Monarch. And that would not be good. The last thing you need is to fall under the scrutiny of the big boss herself. You can just imagine her suddenly popping up on that fenestrated wall behind you, like some kind of blink and you miss it Easter Egg, being all frightening as hell. You'd probably turn around, she'd be there on the screen, you scream like a tube baby, and then her highness starts dropping all kinds of nasty lines of invasive inquiry. “Why are all these people dead?” “What set Jack off this time?” Who's going to handle all the menial affairs of the kingdom now?” “Why are your past performance reports littered with the words 'unsatisfactory', 'insubordinate', and 'rhythmless'?” “When was the last time you washed your work clothes?!” God, if you weren't so fresh and chill and all those other synonyms for cool you'd be sweating bullets at the very thought of that. > ID: Turn around. What? There's nothing there except the wall. Still tuned into that one guy. Wait, is that some sort of outhouse floating in his foyer? ========> Oh, this is going to be so gross and funnAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! ========> Um, what you meant to say was; 'Good evening, Your Majesty' and 'How may this mere office worker be of service to the most wonderfully wise and gracious ruler in all of Paradox Space'? Ohlordyouaresodeadyoujusthaventdiedyet. > FUTURE Caoway: Be someone's server. You are FUTURE Caoway, currently underwater and dressed in some spiffy pajamas with an odd looking mask (both of which you alchemized earlier), and you are trying very hard to become someone's server. ========> However, you have met with a lot of adversity in your attempt at being a server. You located the husktop on the seafloor but were then ambushed by a cadre of marine-themed minions. An ogre with tusks, a spiky shell shaped like a heart, and inexpressive good looks grabbed you and held you down as an ogre with ray fins, long ears, and robotic hands pounded on your face and body. In between the blows, steel fins lets out a series of glubs punctuated with question marks. You have no idea what he's asking you. Also, even with your scalemail bedwear on, the blows are really starting to hurt. ========> The ogre suddenly stops mid-swing and turns its head around. There's something behind him now. You wish to see what it is, but this asshole's girth is taking up your entire field of vision. The hammer-handed brute lets out a dark, bubbly chuckle as it steps aside, revealing a newcomer; a basilisk with scythe-hands, bladed manta head, and some flaming goat hooves. The hooves are actually burning underwater. He does not look friendly. Not in the least. ========> Looks even less friendly when it's charging. > FUTURE Caoway: Break free and incapacitate the assailants. Death by gang-coral stomping is for other jerks. You butt your head back, catching Mr. Shell Ogre in one of his entrancing eyes with your long horn. His grip loosens and you swim away just in the nick of time! The basilisk misses you and buries its head into the ogre's shelled belly. The brute yowls and tries to yank the serpent's head out its torso. Granule filled blood seeps out and bits of shell crumble but the head remains firmly embedded. All the ogre manages to do is rip off the basilisk's scythes. The other ogre, Mr. Robo-mitts, bull-rushes you. You won't be caught off guard this time. You already equipped with one of your newly alchemized weapons, a rather old looking, barnacled paddle with studded belts and a handle with the butt shaped like... an actual rear end. You strike a powerful blow to the brute, which causes its whole body to shake like a mountain of jello next to a fault line. The bolts jiggle out of its robo-hands and the health vial wiggles free of its abstract game panel, spilling its gel into ocean. Mecha-Manos bursts into grist. ========> Now for those two guys. They are so close, practically in each others hearts you might say. Well, actually only one of them is stuck near the other one's heart. And how would someone be practically in the another person's heart. Either you are or you aren't. There is no almost. It's like-wait, where you going with this? Duh, a killing blow! That's where you always going with this stuff. You switch weapons, brandishing a new fancy looking pole-and-line with a shiny red telescopic rod and line that boils the water around it. You whip around and hook around the basilisk's neck. A deft jerk and the body is divorced from its head, much like a hook and some shit after years of unsuccessful marriage consoling. The body reverts to grist but the head remains, still impaled in the ogre. Those two make you believe in true love again- okay, no. This train of thought is just not working for you. Seriously. You whip the line and with two quick lashes slice the ogre into pieces of grist. There. Done. > FUTURE Caoway: Install server. You begin the installation of the server program, which really is just you connecting with the client player. Should take about two or three minutes. > FUTURE Caoway: Gather up grist and husktop, and then return to the surface. You collect all of your things, but you won't be heading topside right this moment. ========> You affix the severed scythes to the end of your weapons. You prepare because you know better. There's blood in the water. An invitation to every bastard around who's part Piron's lusus to come and eat. You can't swim away now. Turning your back to the enemy is suicide. You have to stay and fight. Plus, it'll be a good way to occupy yourself while the thing connects. ========> They come. But they do not come as the mooks had come. One turns and goes out of sight behind a rock and you feel the teeth sink into your arm and it jerks away just before you can punch it. Another watches with its slitted yellow eyes and comes in fast with it's half circle of of jaws wide to strike where you have already been bitten. You side-stroke and its mouth barely misses. The bunny ears show clearly on the top of its brown head and the back the brain joined the spinal cord and you drive the scythe on the oar into the juncture, withdraw it, and drive again into the minions weird goat eye. It floats away and turns into some grist and a few things it had eaten earlier. The water still shakes, with the sound of a hundred overly-complicated riddles being glubbed by the remaining minions. You smile underneath your mask. ========> Three minutes later. You sit on the sands of the island from before, right arm bandaged up, husktop open, and surrounded by a motely crew of crocodilian castaways. You have finally connected and can see the inside of Derpah's hive on the SGRUB window. Looks like he added some new doodads and posters since you were there last. Better check the troll log to see if he said anything during your absence. Sure enough, he did. Show troll-log. Uh oh. Better get a move on! > FUTURE Caoway: Do your job while answering. Show troll-log. A few scrolls and you find yourself looking at the upper levels and also looking at Derpah as he fidgets around a broken balcony. What could have happened here? Eh, whatever. You deploy some artifacts in the next room, after first disposing of some pieces of junk that would've obstructed of said deployment of course. It's not like deadeye here needs all this computer junk. Show troll-log. A strange noise pounds out of the speakers. What the hell is that? Is that a music file? What kind of crap does Piron listen to? Or maybe it's from Glissa? Hmm, there's nothing else open on the desktop. This must be coming from Derpah's hive. Show troll-log. You scroll around searching for that noise. What is it anyway? Kind of sounds like... TWO METAL CONTAINERS BEING CLANGED TOGETHER! You go back to Derpah and see a huge spiky figure standing over him with its bucket raised. Shitshitshit! You grab a large monitor with the cursor and fling it at the intruder. Show troll-log. ========>
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Last edited by Intern Nin; 11-21-2011 at 01:34 AM. |
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12-22-2011, 02:38 AM
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#89 |
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Strike the Earth!
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Canada
Posts: 3,185
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> Make a joke about changing characters while partially breaking the fourth wall
You do that. Everyone laughs. Haa haa hee hee hoo hoo. You are now Reztek. > Reztek: Accept new weapon from Jack and alchemize it into something you can wield Reztek is already three steps ahead of you, having punched the cards, carved the totem, and alchemized a brand new axe. > Reztek: Retrieve spoils You place your newly crafted BASS AND SWITCH in your strife specibus. This glossy black bass grubtar sure will pack a punch. The switchblade hidden in the neck will also help when you need to show someone your stabs. > Reztek: Alchemize more musical paraphernalia into deadly weapons You would love to, but due to your earlier incompetence you only had enough grist to make the Bass and Switch. You will need to collect more through exciting combat. > Skip to the fighting You skip ahead one minute and twelve seconds to the moment right before the exciting combat starts, you impatient bastard. Jack and Reztek are standing outside the hive as a sizeable group of enemies approaches on the piano-key road. It seems the Basilisk from before has brought some friends. ========> Jack tells you not to be completely useless this time. He says you should clear out the imps first so they don’t surround you and get in some cheap shots. You tell him not to worry about that- wait I mean Show Pesterlog Jack says no, no he doesn’t. He also tells you to shut your trap because it’s go time. >[S]trife The first wave of imps rush in head first, about half a dozen in all. The remaining imps split into two groups of five and move to flank you. You don’t even bother to take in the various prototyped mutations present on the imps as you draw your newly-alchemized Bass and Switch. EO: Jack Get dOwn Jack simply looks at you, wondering what the hell you’re going to do with a guitar in a fight. Probably smash it again like before and- realization kicks in as you let loose a barrage of notes and Jack dives to the ground in the nick of time. A thundering psychic shockwave rolls out over Jack’s head, sending the imps flying back head over asses. A few of the imps explode into grist and glass and you and Jack rush forward to engage the survivors. You flick the whammy bar of your Bass and Switch and the foot-long hidden blade juts out impudently into the chest of a particularly puzzled imp with a heart-shaped head. It never wanted to fight, or to die, just to hold you in a tender embrace filled with loving shooshes. But you are no Seer so you have no way of knowing any of this. In fact you already killed another three imps and are currently staring down an imp with an oddly familiar shell. You swing your axe at the imp’s head but in an amazing display of flexibility the creature retracts into its shell. You wind up for another swing when a familiar set of claws sink into your shoulders forcing you to drop the Bass and Switch. It seems the basilisk from earlier is back for more. Fortunately you’re prepared this time, or at least as prepared as someone who was ambushed a second time can be, which is very little. Ok so you aren’t prepared at all. To top it off the bastard is trying to drag you off the cliff again. You dig your heels into the ground and your echo modus confuses your attempt to delay the inevitable as a fetch command, spitting out a single drum at the basilisk. The surprise drubbing knocks the basilisk away, freeing you from its grip. You take full advantage of your freedom and new instrument to lay down some sick nasty beats reinforced with a hefty wallop of psychic resonance. The basilisk is promptly pummelled into a fine pile of grist and other resources. With that taken care of you turn to see how Jack is doing to find he finished off the rest of the imps (including the shelled one you failed to finish off moments ago) and somehow propped open the other basilisk’s mouth with a hoof-beast hitcher. The basilisk is also suffering from several stab wounds, with more being inflicted every second. Damn can Jack stab fast. The porcelain basilisk quickly shatters under such a savage beatdown, leaving the ogre as the last enemy standing. > Strife: Round 2 show pesterlog > Meanwhile at Scalis’s hive... show pesterlog > Back to Reztek now Jack asks if you’re done spouting nonsense because he would like to murder this Ogre now. He says he would rather move along since the two of you can’t put the plan into action until the necessary prerequisites have been completed. One of those levels being getting you and your friends to a level where you won’t be completely worthless. > Strife: Round 2 You retrieve your Bass and Switch but you feel you’re going to need some sharper notes to take down this ceramic beast. With you trusty Grubtar in hand it’s time to do this. Where making it happen. > [S]trife: For real now You let loose a furious solo that slaps the ogre across the face with the force of a dozen knife-stabs. The ogre’s health vial begins to dwindle, but all that quickly. Meanwhile Jack took advantage of your distraction to move in and flank the ogre, and has begun slashing at its legs. Still the ogre’s health vial remains reasonably full, and it seems to be getting angry. It stomps about furiously in an attempt to crush Jack but the Dersite is too nimble for the hulking creature to squash. You figure now is a good time to get creative. With a single note you return your Grubtar to your sylladex and pull out another drum. You build up to a crescendo of beats and deliver a concentrated psychic wallop right between the ogre’s eyes, knocking it back and putting it off balance. Jack switches up to his hoof-beast hitcher and takes the ogre’s legs right out from under it. You feel the ground shake as the ogre falls onto its back, but it’s still not dead. Another tap on your drum sheathes it in your sylladex and pulls out your Bass and Switch as you run towards the fallen ogre. You are about to do something extremely stupid. You jump into the air, strum wildly, yell, and focus your psychic resonance directly below you. The resulting blast wave launches you thirty feet into the air. By some twist of fate you aren’t tumbling head over heels and are falling directly towards the ogre. You flick the whammy bar to unsheathe the BaS’s hidden blade and plunge it directly into the ogre’s forehead. Its health vial plummets but somehow it is still alive. That’s fine, you were ready for this. You pluck at the chords of your Bass and Switch like a cello and create a psychic resonance that reverberates through the entire body of the ogre thanks to the blade lodged in its head. The ogre stops in its attempt to grab you as its entire body begins to quiver, then shake, and finally explode in a shower of ceramic and build grist. > Reztek: Reap spoils of victory BOONDOLLARS swell your PORKHOLLOW as you climb your ECHELADDER to the rank of ENGLISH ROADIE. You express your delight by scampering about like a madman and gathering up all of the grist, glass, porcelain, and ceramic that you missed. show pesterlog Jack grumbles something in response but you have already ran off inside your hive and you don’t hear him complain about you bossing him around and how he won’t follow your orders. Still, he does keep an eye out for any untrustworthy agents of Derse that might be lurking about, ready to report his not-entirely-sanctioned activities. But with his back to the hive he fails to see what looks like a turtle head slowly phasing up through the ground. > WHAT IS IT? THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME! I CAN’T TAKE IT! |
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