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11-21-2010, 02:45 AM
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#71 | |
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Argus Agony
Join Date: Oct 2005
Location: Gotta go fishing!
Posts: 10,483
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>Be a troll who's more alive. You are now Ballaa. And you've never felt more alive! >Patrol your hiveblock for evil! You've already gotten a head start, bounding across the rooftops under what you're just going to have to pretend is the night sky. Of course, it's not and you're an idiot for doing so, especially considering that you're the only troll within miles that can even be out during the day. There is no crime and this is fucking stupid. Doesn't stop it from being fun, though! You swing through your neighbors' hives, landing only for the slimmest of moments to fire your grapple gun to the next location. You've gotten pretty good at it, though occasionally you screw up and knock over a cart of produce someone left out. Like you just did right now. Oops! It appears one of your countless angry neighbors would like to discuss it with you. >Get trolled by neighbor. Quote:
You don't have any time for silly crossover cartoon references! You are patrolling for evil!
>See what your friends are up to. You land on top of one of the hives and crouch over the edge, casting a shadow in front of you as you read the latest goings-on over Trollian via your Official Wingredrat Communicator. It appears that Iropha has opened up a memo to discuss a mysterious new game Aldurin came up with. You've been invited to take part and, naturally, you accepted. After all, someone with some amount of sense has to step in to investigate this whole mess and save everyone's asses when they invariably doom the world with their shenanigans, and that someone is you! >Monitor the memo with extreme prejudice. You glare at your communicator intimidatingly. Is there any other way to glare? >Be another troll.
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Either you're dead or my watch has stopped. |
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11-21-2010, 02:51 AM
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#72 |
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So Dreamy
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Someplace magical
Posts: 6,863
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>Be another troll.
You are now GORRMA. Again. >Fffffff...... That command is invalid. Please try again. >Continue exploring room. Yeah, let's do that! You look around. So many things to see and eat! But... why did you come down here again? You got so distracted by the GOLDEN SPORK (1) that you've completely forgotten! Argh! How annoying!! Hmmm.... Maybe if you delve into a convenient flashback from ten minutes ago, you'll remember. >Initiate flashback sequence: Ten minutes ago. Your view of this room is suddenly obstructed by WAVY FLASHBACK LINES. When the scene transition fades, you find yourself back in your RESPITEBLOCK, sitting at your HUSKTOP. The bitten-off corner of the computer sparks occasionally, as per usual. You should really get around to fixing that one of these days. Oh look, you're TROLLING someone! >Read trollian log > End flashback sequence and return to present. You return to PRESENT GORRMA. Oh, that's right!! You were going to find SECRET RECIPE NOTEBOOK #4! You have a variety of SECRET RECIPE NOTEBOOKS, chock-full of notes from all of your culinary experiments. You've already found volumes 1, 5 and 3, but you don't want to leave any stone unturned. And you still had to get to making Ballaa a cake, so you'd better hurry up and find it! You're pretty sure you left it down here a sweep or so ago, when you trapped the HORRIBLE RAZOR-CLAWED NIGHTMARE BEAST in here to die. You wonder if the corpse is done aging to perfection yet. > Ignore the nightmare beast and find the damn notebook. You ignore the nightmare beast and start looking for the notebook. You check the nearest SHELF. You find a GLASS EYE. What's this doing here? Why do you even HAVE this? And... do you really want to know??? > Who cares. Save it so it can be used as a setup for a lame joke in the future. You have no idea what that means, but you'll captachlogue it anyway. It goes into your CHEF MODUS SYLLADEX, where it is split into its base parts: GLASS and PIGMENT. You earn a RECIPE CARD with a ghostly outline of the GLASS EYE, and the base parts are dumped into the INGREDIENTS BINS. In order to remove anything from your inventory, you'll need to select the RECIPE CARD and correctly name the proper INGREDIENTS needed to reconstruct it. Your sylladex is needlessly complicated. > Blah blah blah talking. Find more stuff and move on. You move several WEDGES OF CHEESE and PACKAGES OF DRIED MEAT. It has to be here somewhere. Aha! Here it is! You have found: SECRET RECIPE NOTEBOOK #4! It has a big #4 drawn on the front, so it has to be the right one. Into the sylladex it goes; paper, wire, ink and all. > Can we leave now? Oh wow, all this fantastic food down here you'd almost forgotten about! You really want to do some more exploring and update your larder inventory, but you're a busy girl! You've got recipes to review, menus to plan, and a cake to bake! Further inspection will have to wait until later. Right now you have some serious reading to do! >Be someone less... Gorrma.
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Yoo Hoo! Last edited by mauve; 11-21-2010 at 03:30 AM. |
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11-25-2010, 02:01 AM
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#73 | |
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Feelin' Super!
Join Date: May 2009
Posts: 4,191
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>Be someone less... Gorrma.
You are now Glissa. This is considerably different from Gorrma, but the quality of it is questionable. >Glissa: Do something interesting. You are currently doing nothing of actual interest. You would work on a painting or sculpture or something, but you have finished your most recent projects and right now lack INSPIRATION. Right now, you are busy going through some of your ARTIFACTS and ANTIQUES located in the storage area beneath the hive. It is even colder down here than the rest of the hive, and the stone walling/flooring are quite uncomfortable, but you manage. On the shelf you are searching, you find a few items that you left in the subterranean floor of your HIVE due to finding them not as interesting. They are the DIARY AND RECORDS OF AN INFAMOUS TROLL MAGE. His name is no longer spoken aloud, and he is long passed away. The THRESHECUTIONERS and LEGISLACERATORS having made quick work of him for his ill-defined crimes. Maybe, if magic was real, he wouldn't have died. Although, his alleged crimes were rather impossible without magic. Its actually a rather paradoxical case. Either way, this is the only known copy of the journal in existence. >Examine Tome Its has gathered a bit of dust on your shelf, but is still in decent condition. Its a decent an 0k read, but its rather involved and not worth display, at least in your opinion. In truth, the dark secrets his most personal of writings must contain are untold to those who are experienced at reading hidden statements and deciphering secret messages, but you really aren't that bright. How the book has retained legibility while underwater is a mystery that will remain ever pervasive. >Whatever. Move on. You decide to move on from that train of thought. You go back upstairs. You RESPITEBLOCK is located at the top of the HIVE, and you are not in the mood to go up all those STAIRS. They just aren't safe. You sit yourself down on a SITTING DEVICE in front of a your CAFFEINATED BEVERAGE COUNTER, also known as a coffee table, and decide to troll some friends. Aldurin is likely to busy to answer your questions, so you resolve to get answers from someone else. >Retrieve HUSKTOP Before you can bother someone like a nuisance, you have to retrieve your mode of communication. Luckily, you have the BEAUTY™ MODUS. To work it, you have to align cards according to the colors of the items you have. If you do well, then it opens and you can retrieve any item. If the colors clash too much, then everything is expelled in a jumble. Currently, you have only your HUSKTOP in the inventory, so it doesn't matter what you do. You retrieve the portable communication device and proceed to bother your fellow sea dweller. Whats this though? A rap-off? You will not tolerate such a grotesque exchange of words! You must preserve the sacredness of slam poetry. >We've seen this already just skip it! We skip onwards to your next conversation. Quote:
>Glissa: Troll Aldurin Glissa cannot troll Aldurin because she is too busy being someone else. Last edited by Bard The 5th LW; 11-25-2010 at 01:17 PM. |
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11-25-2010, 01:38 PM
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#74 |
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Strike the Earth!
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Canada
Posts: 3,185
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>Reztek: Be Reztek
Reztek is now being Reztek, a feat that took a surprisingly long time to achieve. >Recap what happened since since the last time you were you The last time you were you, you were flipping the fuck out over a maddeningly disorganized memo. >Realize an appropriate amount of time has passed in order to calm down. You can't have a reasonable view on the passage of time due to how maddeningly FRUSTRATED you are. If only your FRUSTRATOMETER were lower, then you wouldn't be so frustrated. >Misplace FRUSTRATOMETER What? That's absurd. How could you mispl- wait. Where the hell is it? And you're usually so organized too. Oh if only you had your FRUSTRATOMETER with you then you would be able to become appropriately frustrated at the lack of your FRUSTRATOMETER. >Gain a reasonable view on the passage of time With the sudden lack of your FRUSTRATOMETER you now realize enough time has gone by for you to be no longer upset about the MEMO THAT SHALT NOT BE MENTIONED EVER. It turns out in your anger at the lack of order you completely reorganized your room. >Examine room Your circular RECUPERACOON is now in the very center of the room. In one corner is your Husktop, resting upon its trusty table. In the other corner is your Grand Grubiano, and near the wall opposite the door are three Grubtar Stands, two are holding Grubtars and the third is holding a Grubass. Your Troll Slash and Troll Mozart posters have been replaced with a super-sized poster of Lovertroll performing their smash hit Everybody's Trolling for the Weekend. Despite the lack of things in your room you feel like the space is kind of cramped. >Examine other wall You change your perspective to look at the other two walls in your room. one of the walls is hidden behind a wall of AMPLIFIERS. It's your own personal collection and impromptu doomsday device. You would have ran some some tests amplifying your psychic abilities with the sound from your AMP WALL if it weren't for your fear that the shock wave would destroy your Hive, not to mention a good chunk of the surrounding landscape. ===> The wall that isn't covered with amps has a large window. That's pretty much it. >Look out window You look outside and take in the view. The best part about your Hive isn't simply the Hive itself, but the effort that went into making the landscape around it. Your Hive sits on a Drone-made island in the middle of a Drone-made lake in the center of a naturally occurring valley. You tried to get the Carpenter Drones to make the valley as well, but that just made them angrier. Still, your Hive is located far from any major Troll settlements which allows you to practice your music in peace. Also the valley has some pretty awesome acoustics. >Enough with the exposition that should have happened ages ago, go do something interesting You fail to do something interesting. You head out of your Respite Block and start debating which room you should reorganize next. >Oh for the love of Gog be somebody else
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POS Almighty has spoken. |
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11-25-2010, 01:59 PM
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#75 | |
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Making it happen.
Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: Someplace. Probably here.
Posts: 7,879
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I will draw the kangaroosus at a later time. :|
>For the love of Gog be somebody else. You are now someone else altogether, someplace you haven't been before.  It is a mild Alternian evening, with the twin moons casting a soft glow over the COMMUNAL HIVESTEMS. It looks to be an unusually pleasant night, and you cannot conceive of a situation that would change that. You find your attention being drawn to a particular hive, close to the ground.  Who's this, then? >Enter Name FIGHTY O'FLIGHTY No, not quite. KICK-HAPPY LACKWIT Well, that's just rude of you. I don't think she's taking kindly to that. JUMPIN' JEHOSAPHATASS What?? That's just uncalled for! QUICK, pick a suitable name before she gets... BURGUN TREIEN That's more like it. Your name is BURGUN TREIEN. You LOVE FIGHTING. You simply cannot get enough of it, and while you know there are a few people better than you, sometimes, just sometimes, you like to believe you're simply the BEST THERE IS. You are an expert practitioner of the ALTERNIAN MARTIAL ART of KICKSTINCTION, and you look forward to your deployment to the ALTERNIAN ARMY in half a sweep's time, where you will surely WRECK SOMEONE'S SHIT. DARK RED BLOOD courses through your veins, and your place on the HEMOSPECTRUM is a bit of a TOUCHY SUBJECT. You will acknowledge your inferior blood only to those few who can BEST YOU IN SINGLE COMBAT, and those who try to tout their blood superiority in front of you will quickly get the SHIT BEAT OUT OF THEM. ESPECIALLY blue bloods. God do you hate blue bloods. Your trolltag is brutalTrifecta, you'reee a littleee bit impatieeent and you likeee to communicateee with a REEED-HOT PASSION that infleeects your words with FREEEDOM!!! What will you do? >You're busy. Be someone else for a little while. Oh fine, be that way.
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3DS Friend Code: 4441-8226-8387  Last edited by Loyal; 11-25-2010 at 05:36 PM. Reason: Fixed the title in Fight Club. |
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11-26-2010, 07:32 AM
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#76 |
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Ara ara!
Join Date: Jul 2004
Location: Neo Venezia
Posts: 5,013
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> You're busy. Be someone else for a little while.
You're someone else, a little while ago. It is YESTERDAY and you are IROPHA again. Or for the first time, rather. You're in a rather popular grocetaria in the nourishment district. No-one's out - the HARSH ALTERNIAN SUN is creeping toward the horizon. But someone wanting to become a DELIVERATOR isn't going to let rain or day or nude musclebeast stop them. Your SUNGLASSES will protect you from the BLINDING LIGHT and your SPEED GAMBITS will protect you from the HORRIFYING MONSTERS. You have an ANTI-DELIVERY to perform and mere minutes to get it done. > Chew on the scenery and make a huge mess. You rough up the joint a little, then get out a special little MECHANISM you put together for this job. It's basically a bear trap on a stick. Those walls don't know what hit them. They're walls. They don't know anything. But you do. METAL TEETH. > Locate anti-deliverables. They're right here, still on their cooling racks. They smell delicious. > Abscond with delicious baked goods! You load up your VECTOR MODUS with the delicious baked goods. All forty of them. You abscond like the wind. Time to get someone's goat. > Be another troll in another time and another place.
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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; 11-26-2010 at 07:38 AM. |
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11-26-2010, 09:17 PM
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#77 |
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We'll have to do this the hard way.
Join Date: Feb 2005
Location: Behind it all.
Posts: 1,009
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Vintag is a shittier artist than I
>Go be another troll in another time and another place.
You succeed at being Vintag.  You've wasted enough time on the husktop. Now it's time to get down to the brass tacks. You have a show tomorrow night and the advanced levels of visual comedy that the act taps into require complete mastery. This is your last chance to rehearse, so you and Vicki need to ace this. But first... >Consult poster of Bing Crosby. ...Who's that hooligan? >Consult poster of Troll Bing Crosby. What? HE's here?!  Oh my. What is a preposterously famous entertainer like yourself doing at one of my shows? Sir, you have no idea what this means to me. Ever since I was a wriggler, I've looked up to you. What's that? Oh yes, I'll try my best up there! And, hey, if you want to go somewhere after the show...?  …. Yes, you're right, of course. We should keep this professional. >Consult lusus.  You tell the floorflushing goof to quit futzing around before you pull a Daniel Boone.  He abides. >Review the plan.  You and Vicki lock eyes. He seems nervous. Perhaps he is afraid that you've taken it too far, like flying too close to the Alternian sun via a pair of makeshift wings. Or just going out in the sun in general. You have no patience for his milquetoastedness. You flatly order him to put on his game face.  >Let's see the damn thing already!  This is it. The end-all, be-all of the trade. First, a stuffed monkey is attached to a zip-line. He steals your hat and takes off across a 20 meter stretch. You and Vicki must mount onto the MINI ROCKET FARTHING in pursuit of the rapscallion. As Vicki tries to capture the monkey, the two of you collide into various traps that the thief has set up. Pitfalls, oil slicks, Wriggler carriages, and at the very end the diabolical mastermind has set up a loop-de-loop that ends in front of a single banana peel. This peel will launch you headfirst into a pile of creme pies. As you emerge, one of pies falling off your face, Vicki will get up from the crash with your hat on his head and the monkey hugging his back. >... Yes. Oh, yes. It is perfect. >Need a towel?  >Leave these two to their work.
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 You know who never sleeps? My gun. |
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11-30-2010, 03:22 AM
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#78 | |
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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 promise that the next post will advance the story.
>Leave these two to their work.
You leave the dippy duo to their rehersal and are now Caoway. Somehow, you managed to navigate up the littered staircase and are now standing in the entry portal to your cozy RESPITEBLOCK. You're still wet, cold, and can barely move by the way. You could probably change into some dry clothes if it weren't for the ungogly amount of crap between you and the BUREAU. >View ou You're starting to make him angry. Do you really want to make someone who battles sea monsters on a nightly basis angry? >Okay. View clutter then. First thing you see as you enter is TEN, your BADLY TAXIDERMIED SPLASH-HOUND, whom you placed next to the door in the very unlikely event of intruders. Behind him facing door-side out is your THERMAL HULL, which is definitely not filled with some sort of embarassing collection. On the left side of the hull, wedged between it and the south wall is another bookshelf containing some of your earlier journals. On the other side is CYMOPOLEA'S TREASURY, a massive barnacled and sea-worn chest that is nearly indestructible and holds a treasure beyond your wildest imagination. Between that and the north wall is your desk, atop of which is your MANANNAN MAC HUSKTOP and two blank journals. Mounted on the wall above is an ORNATE WAVE MOTION BLUNDERBUSS. There is some space between the clutter and the east wall making it so you can sidle up to the desk. Adjacent to the big chest and the desk is the bureau, containing many pairs of your usual outfit. It would seem that the drawerside of it is pressed against the west wall, making it impossible to access the clothes. On top of the bureau are two TINY SHIPS IN BOTTLES, one is a highly detailed KRANNISH GALLEON and the other an exact replica of the SPACE ARMADA'S FLAGSHIP. In the southwest corner is your RECUPERACOON, unused for weeks. Between that and the bureau are some smaller chests and sacks of CANDY HORNS that you are in no hurry to finish off, because they don't spoil and taste nasty. >Punch hole through dresser and retreive dry clothes. You stand on top of the big chest and do just that. Ouch! Well, now you've hurt your hand and ruined a perfectly good bureau. On the bright side you've got a pair of warm, dry clothes. >Change clothes. You trade the wet outfit for a dry one. Ah, this is great. You almost forgot what being dry felt like. Now you have to find some place to hang the damp clothing. Could rest them on Ten, but that would be very disrespectful. Not to mention that he'd start to smell if you got him wet. Guess you'll just hang them on the back of the chair. >Wait, was that a stuffed dog? Yeah, this is TENNESSEE DINNER JACKET. Ten for short. You found him a few sweeps back when his carcass was being carried off by some theatrical sea-troll on a flying sea-horse. The little tool caught sight of Beechie and thought a five-ton sea carnivore would make for a better haul then a much smaller splash-hound. This, of course, was a mistake that he'd live to regret. You scuppered him good and took the splash-hound and the shirt off his back as prizes. Repainting the wave symbol a dark sea green and wearing it is just your little way of letting the royals know the score. You felt sorry for the fellow sea dog and decided to give him new life as a trophy in your home. Unfortunately, this was back when you were still using the crappy guidebooks you bought off of that no good hustler so he turned out looking rather wonky. >Fascinating. Now open the huge box and retrieve the booty. The treasury? It can't be opened without the MEGATON KEY and you have no idea where in the world that elusive artifact could be. >Lame. Retrieve Faygo from fridge and SlAm tHaT ChIlLeD MoThErFuCkEr. You open the thermal hull and a mess of VARIOUS TAXIDERMIED SEA CREATURES tumble out, along with a few TAXIDERMIED TROLL CELEBRITIES. >What. Shit, this happens every time. Like the room wasn't crowded enough already. >The bodies... Oh yeah, introductions are in order. Say hello to TROLL CESAR ROMERO, TROLL EARTHA KITT, TROLL BUSTER KEATON, and TROLL ED SULLIVAN. Let's pretend they said hello back. >Where... You picked these guys up during a daring raid of Isla del Morte, the troll morgue for famous actors, singers, and war heroes. It wasn't easy, but you plumbed the depths of that floating tomb and got these wonderful prizes to show for it. It's a good thing you got better at stuffing and mounting before you went on that adventure. No offense, Ten. You used to have TROLL FRANK GORSHIN JR, but you traded him to Sharl for the Husktop and GrubPDA. >Why? What kind of dumb question is that? Everyone knows that any adventurer worth his Sea Sabre Cat salt has a collection of stuffed and mounted dead things as trophies. >Okay, enough of this. Log onto the computer and troll somebody already. The husktop? Come to think of it you haven't been on in a long time. Trolling one of your friends would be a good way to kill some time and think-cells. The husktop is pretty dated, so it's going to be a while before it's juices are warmed up and ready for trolling. >Write in journal. Writing? Oh geez, you don't really feel up to that. It's been weeks since attempted writing down anything. You just don't feel the passion for it anymore. Besides, it's not like your have any grand adventures to share, just tales of MARITIME LIFEFORM REAPING. Who the hell would want to read a story about someone fishing on the ocean? >You got anything better to do right now? You make yourself comfortable in the dead-things pile, put on your reading spectacles, and commence writing. ======> Hmm.. that's no good... ======> Argh, this is not turning well at all. Maybe if you go back and... ======> Dammit, this is worse then what you started with. >Be someone else for a while.
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Some quote: Quote:
Last edited by Intern Nin; 11-30-2010 at 11:23 AM. |
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11-30-2010, 05:33 AM
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#79 |
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So Dreamy
Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Someplace magical
Posts: 6,863
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>Be someone else for a while.
You successfully become SOMEONE ELSE for a while. You are now SOMEONE ELSE. >Please say "someone else" doesn't refer to Gorrma. That command is invalid. You are now Gorrma. >Quit game. That command is invalid. You are now Gorrma. >Fine. Observe room. You are standing in the mightiest of kitchens, your custom CULINARENA CHEFSTAGE deep underground. Hundreds of rows of bleachers surround your workspace, rising upwards along the walls of the CHEFSTAGE PIT, seating several thousand DEVOTED FANS AND APPRENTICES. They let out a deafening cheer of admiration as you roll up your sleeves, preparing for the task ahead. You pay them no attention, giving only the slightest of nods to your THREE MOST TRUSTED APPRENTICES, seated closer to your workstation to observe your artistic genius in action. The seat formerly held by the traitor PESTO remains ominously empty. A grim warning to anyone who dares offend you. .... .... .... Okay, so technically you're just standing on a chair in one of your KITCHENBLOCKS, not really on a GRAND CHEFSTAGE. And okay, maybe those thousands of screaming fans are really just a handful of dolls seated on the shelves. But you like to pretend, okay?!? >...Okay? You bow graciously in the direction of tonight's most HONORED GUEST at your cooking demonstration: The Empress herself!! This is such a great honor. Because that's totally the real Empress sitting in her mighty throne and not just a bag of sugar with a paper crown on top, stacked on top of a tin of walnuts. Obviously. >Can we move on please? After SECURITY removes several INCREDIBLY HANDSOME TROLL BOYS who had jumped the safety barrier into the arena to propose matespriteship to you (which you calmly dismissed with an ALOOF WAVE OF YOUR HAND), you begin your cooking demonstration. Today you will be making your WORLD FAMOUS GROB-BERRY CAKE. The crowd is ecstatic. >Please please please don't tell me she puts anything weird in this.... Weird? Why would you put something weird into your cake? That's just stupid. Why would you even think that? >....... ....... >...just make the damn cake. With gusto!! You are a gray-and-green whirlwind of culinary fury, dicing berries, mixing ingredients, expertly cracking eggs and moving with the grace and skill of a 5-Star BattleChef Gourmancer. Or something like that. You assume so, anyway. You've never actually SEEN a 5-Star BattleChef Gourmancer in person, so you're kind of just guessing. Oh wow. You can already tell that this cake is gonna be awesome. You didn't even drop any eggshells into the batter! Ballaa will be really happy when he gets this! Or.. well... whatever the Ballaa equivalent of "happy" is--come to think of it, you're not quite sure if you've ever seen him in any mood other than "dark and brooding." But you're sure he'll be slightly less "dark and brooding-ish" when he gets this awesome cake! You pour the batter into the baking pan and open the HEAT-BASED FOOD PREPARATION APPLIANCE. The door has a glass panel on the front so you can watch what's cooking. Inside is a metal rack on which to put food-matter you intend to cook, and under the rack is a wire cage filled with FLAME-SPITTING MINI HECK-BEASTS and JUVENILE MAGMA-SPIDERS. Turning the dials on the top of the appliance enrages the little creatures until they produce enough heat to cook the food. So it's a fairly ordinary oven, really. You're saving up your boonbucks to buy a fancier model. Maybe that creepy bucket-head guy Sharl would cut you a deal on one if you baked him some cookies.. You set the timer and start working on making icing while the cake bakes. You sort of wish you had some music to accompany your artistic work here. Hmm. Maybe you should ask Reztek to write you a cooking theme song later. >This is taking forever. Be someone else. PLEASE.
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Yoo Hoo! Last edited by mauve; 11-30-2010 at 05:35 AM. |
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11-30-2010, 07:04 PM
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#80 | ||
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Making it happen.
Join Date: Mar 2004
Location: Someplace. Probably here.
Posts: 7,879
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Colors are different because accurate ones are ABSOLUTELY UNREADABLE on this forum
>This is taking forever. Be someone else. PLEASE.
You are now a slightly less busy Burgun. Which is to say, exactly as busy as before, but a bit more bored and more willing to obey commands. >Wonder about your sparse furnishings. There's nothing to wonder about. Most of the furniture you acquire never lasts more than a couple of weeks before your lusus destroys it for whatever reason. It's taken a great deal of effort on your part just to preserve your computer and the crate it sits on. She's getting old these days, however, and isn't nearly so active as she used to be, so you guess you could redecorate. You suppose you've just gotten used to living minimally. >Examine this homewrecker.  Sylvia Hops is not a homewrecker!!! She is your lusus and she's taught you everything you know about fighting, faithfully protecting you from those who would do you harm. Nowadays it's more like you're the one keeping her out of trouble, but you don't mind.  She's a good lusus. >Review plans for the night. You had applied for the ALTERNIAN MILITARY not long ago and had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of an officer, who would gauge your ability and, if he found you lacking, kill you on the spot for wasting his time. Naturally, you passed inspection and are now waiting only for the shuttle that will take you to basic training, which basically amounts to being given a uniform and being sent to the front-lines of some low-priority assignment. Trolls do not care for weakness and have no interest in coddling. You've been spending the last couple of weeks looking for any opportunity to get into a good fight to sharpen your skills while you wait, but there hasn't been very many takers. Maybe tonight you'll get lucky? >Get pestered. Doin' a good enough job of that already, thanks. >Get trolled. Not seeing the difference, here...? >LOOK AT YOUR COMPUTER.  Oh! Now who would that be? >Answer.  Quote:
It's not like there's any real risk to someone as skilled as yourself. >Be someone else.
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