01-14-2011, 02:54 PM | #11 |
Cinderella
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>Reader: Abscond.
Uh oh, you just ran face first into SEYMOUR. >Reader: First, change pants. Then, be Seymour. You succeed in being Seymour. You have been swimming in the waters since your protege has taken to playing silly games with his friends. You allow him these times, but only if he has earned them. After the truce you swore for the day you figure he has. In your time away you have taken a rather large squid, it was already injured when you found it so it was easy pickings. Though a bit inky. You amuse yourself with chewing on its corpse, but keep an eye out for anything that might smell the blood in the water. The seas are never safe after all. >Seymour: Be shocked. Why would he be shocked, he is a perfectly competent hunter in these waters, nothing short of an alien monstrosity could...what was that sound? >Seymour: STRIFE! No, it wasn't that. It was a crashing sound. Far in the distance but loud enough to be worrying. Like thunder. Then the waves came, knocking you around a bit and forcing you to take heed. You swam up to the surface and stared about, looking for the cause of these strange tides. Then there it was, the falling rocks. Out from the sky the flaming bastards crashed into the land and sea. Most harmless, if a bit shocking. None so huge as to make an issue, but it was worrisome. You decided you did not trust your ward alone at a time like this, and began the swim home. Squid in tow of course. >Seymour: Be Leraje. You are now Leraje. You have been waiting a short bit for Caoway to get his nerves together and start the game up you've been hearing distant echos that are starting to make you nervous and you'd rather you save your ass before it ends up dead in whatever way this game plans to end it. For now though you are just keeping an eye on your memo. Open Memo You really need to find the time to deal with Zeb, he is becoming slightly insufferable with his stupid. Still you expect this from him, it is part of why you let him join. He has all this enthusiasm and energy, you could only imagine what it could do if it was channeled in the right direction. >Leraje: Get trolled by Scalis Open Pesterlog An interesting development, you'll definitely need to keep an eye on Zeb then. You are still unsure of how you will get him to hate, but in games like this you have the chance to feel all sorts of emotions. Especially one that hits as close to home as this one seems to. Anyway, back to the memo. Open Memo Well, it seems it is time to start then. You insert the disc into your computer and let it run, your advanced processors changing from their endless shipping arrangements toward running the SGRUB. This is it. where doing it man where MAKING THIS HAPEN You enter and get your first look at his hive. It is a damn mudborn fatbeast sty. You shake your head in disgust at the appearance of the shipwreck hovel, it is about time to start trolling. Open Pesterlog You wish you could see him, while you are enjoying tossing his things in random piles around his altogether disorganized house filled with whatever sharl had tricked him into buying and other things he picked up, or(ugh) written in his so called "adventures." There was something unnerving about not having his player in view. You decide to ease your mind by checking out some of the menu's in further detail. >Examine Phernalia Registry There is a whole list of junk in here that you figure you can actually put in his hive. Worth a shot, the place could use some furnishing. Open Pesterlog >Leraje: Notice something weird. It would appear that your client has some sort of corpse on his back. Why would he do that? Was that what he was off doing when you started, his little ocean life reaper junk. Open Pesterlog That was not the answer you were expecting. For a moment you can't seem to move, and then you start unconsciously doing things. Not really thinking, just acting. Open Pesterlog You shake yourself aware, he's right. Lives are at stake right now. Mostly his life, and you both have a game to play to save yourselves. This is most unsettling, but you have to get beyond it. For him. Open Pesterlog Your jaw clenches, he got the Beaglepuss in there, but it looks like the Kernalsprite got a little extra by sucking up Beechie as well. Not really a great thing to happen so soon after it died. You want to say something meaningful, but all that ends up out of your screen is, Open Pesterlog Ugh all of this watching is getting tiresome, maybe you can find something to get your mind back into awareness. >Leraje: Check the memo. Open Memo SO BOTHERSOME. You look back to the screen you had put him on and watch the alchemiter pop out a little reward just in time. Right into his greedy little hands. >Leraje: Troll Caoway. Open Pesterlog Oh great. Now he is ignoring you. FINE! You have other stuff to take care of anyway, he can save his own damn self...okay you lie you keep watching him. You aren't sure what he is going to do but you're nervous. That time limit isn't getting any longer, if he is going to find a way out, he's going to need to find it soon. >Leraje: First, be the other troll.
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Time to bust out the glow sticks! |
01-14-2011, 03:59 PM | #12 | |
Magikoopa
Join Date: Dec 2008
Posts: 1,789
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>Leraje: First, be the other troll.
You are now Tergum. >Tergum: Check Memo. Quote:
Despite your facade on the memo, you're actually pretty damn concerned. You've never heard Strize cry before. That can't be good. Did someone break in? >Tergum: Equip Weapon. You're sorry, equip what? >Sigh... :Equip Wea-pen." Gog, you hate that pun. And that pen. It's so fucking... useless! You can barely write as it is, and whenever you try to use the damn thing, you accidentally activate its stupidly fucking derptarded acidic ink setting and dissolve your paper. Is there ANYTHING FUCKING STUPIDER THAN YOUR STUPID FUCKING- whoops, here it goes. You catch the BALLPOINT PEN-ETRATOR as it is ejected from your RAGE MODUS. Weapon... Uh... wea-pen in hand, you begin to search the respiteblock for your Lusus. For some odd reason, you feel compelled to go towards the basement. You generally try to avoid it, there's a stupid amount of stairs to get down there. Back when you designed the place, you were somewhat... well, if you're perfectly honest, you were fucking proud of yourself for figuring out stairs, so you made a bunch of them to show off. Now? Now you're far too lazy to go down the one-hundred and twelve steps day after day. Especially with Strize; he always tends to run everywhere. Running down stairs when you have giant sickles for arms... not the greatest idea. You always have to remind him of that... oh. Oh no. >Tergum: Run! You zip down the stairs with a fervor that would have impressed you even when you were a step-obsessed wiggler. As you reach the bottom you see just what you didn't want to: Your lusus, surrounded in a pool of green, arm-blade bent, and puncturing his thorax. Show Lususlog >Tergum: grieve. You'd love to. Honestly. But right now, your team needs you if they want to survive. You have to... Come on, Capiti. You've gotta getcha getcha getcha getcha head in the game. >Tergum: Man up. Your idiots need you. You get up off your knees, wipe your tears, and give your lusus one last hug-GOGDAMMIT! You Captchalogued him! Well, no way you're getting him out of your rage modus. You sigh, then head back up the stairs to continue the memo. |
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01-14-2011, 07:12 PM | #13 | |
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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It's really strong fishing line.
> Tergum: be the other other troll.
Tergum cannot be the other other troll because Caoway is currently the other other troll. > Be Caoway. You are Caoway and you have just finished hauling the corpse of your beloved lusus back into your recently wrecked hive. You stand agog in Beechie's block and behold the great wet mess that wave made of your domicile. Needless to say, you have had better nights. This one's just getting started though. > Caoway: Troll someone's server. You free a hand and contact Leraje with your PDA. Looks like he's connected. He's going on about monsters or something. Some function of the game. It's kind of hard to pay attention. > Caoway: Wait, did he say something about clearing space? Okay, that drew you back in. You inquire about this and Leraje says that he has taken the liberty of tidying your hive as he sees fit. Eh, whatever. Sort of hard to care about a bunch of journals and nicknacks after carrying around your dead guardian, the animal that raised you all your life and introduced to the ocean and by proxy the thrill of adventure. Whose guidance and protection you repaid by getting him crippled and subsequently killed. > Caoway: Oh please, not this again! Okay, this is not a productive train of thought. Focus Hemnet! Respond back! Okay, now he's ragging you about your literature. And apparently there's something he needs to set up. Lot of room in here. You tell him to set it up here. Oh man, he spotted Beechie on your back and is asking about it. You forgot he has to see the environment to manipulate it. > Caoway: Tell him. You tell him that it is your lusus and, yes, he is dead. And that it is your fault.. Leraje's not saying anything now. > Caoway: What's he doing? You ask about the artifact he was about to set up. He comes back on, sets it up, says that he put your stuff back and then kind of chokes up. > Caoway: Tick Tick Tick! You thank him for his condolences but point out that time is not on your side and there is spray of firey death rocks bearing down on your hive. You ask what you're supposed to do next but he has no clue. He suggests fiddling around with it. > Caoway: Interact with Cruxtruder. You place Beechie's corpse down and turn the wheel on the side. The lid pops off like a cork. I guess you can thank the alien vegetation for that. Out of the Cruxtruder comes a weird thing seemingly made seizure inducing light and a dowel made of some kind of sea green substance. Hey, is that a countdown clock? 00 : 00 : 06 : 12 > Caoway: Ask for further instructions. Leraje consults the guide and says that the seizure thing is called a kernelsprite. It has to be prototyped whatever that means, he says. Perhaps you need to put something in the kernel? > Caoway: Part with cherished trophy. You throw a stupid pair of Groucho glasses in it. Never liked them all that much anyways. As if anybody could really be invincible wearing those. The thing catches the kooky specs, but then makes a dive for Beechie's corpse! > Caoway: Type AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !! You waste a few milliseconds typing so that your server knows exactly what it is you're yelling. You make a dive for the body but it's too late. The piece of crap swallowed it whole. > Caoway: Aggrieve. You swing your fist right at the damn thing, but it side-floats out of the way. You punch right through the wall. Man, being strong sucks. Your bellow at the poorly disguised orb and it quickly floats off to somewhere else in the hive. Your lusus is gone, and now you can't even stuff and mount him. > Caoway: Mourn loss quickly. You take a moment. You then promptly get your head back in the game and ask Leraje if there's anything else they need to set up. He says yes. You tell him to put it in your respiteblock. You make your way upstairs and into the block. It's in even greater disarray than it was before. On top of being wet, everything's knocked over and moved around, except for the treasury that is. Well, at least this has made your room slightly more navigable. Leraje quickly removes your recuperacoon and replaces it with a large platform thing called a alchemiter. This one's a little less obvious. > Caoway: Retrieve Cruxite Dowel. You scamper back down and grab the dowel. You make your way back, while letting your server know what you have planned. You place the dowel on the platform, the response is nigh instantaneous. The laser goes over the dowel and then several blocks appear on the platform. You pick them up and inspect them. Yes sir, these are definitely some completely useless blocks. You kick them off the platform and type something sarcastic to Leraje. He, of course, ignores this. The bureau is then lifted up and chucked out your broken window. Another weird gadget is set up in it's place. > Caoway: Inspect Totem Lathe. You give this doohickey a once over and find that the cruxite would fit in it. There also appears to be an opening for what looks like a card or something. You inquire if there's any freebies left and about the countdown. He deploys a pre-punched captchalogue card and indicates that time is running out. > Caoway: Insert card in Totem Lathe. Doesn't take a genius to figure this out. The lathe carves the dowel into an unusual shape. Okay, this is progress. You state that you're going back to the alchemiter but he doesn't respond. What the hell is he doing? > Caoway: Check memo. You go onto the memo and... you know what? I don't care that you just got done reading all of this once before. Read it again. Show Memo You cannot believe this guy sometimes. But, two other lusus deaths? That's a pretty big coincidence. Shit, no time to ponder! > Caoway: Alchemize Cruxite. You do just that. A dark sea green fishing pole appears right in your hands. The line leads right into the mouth of a fish flopping on the alchemiter. Huh. The fish flops off the platform and out the window. It's making a flail for the ocean! And now Leraje decides he's interested in your well-being. > Caoway: First, start reeling in fish. Second, answer meddler. You plant yourself against the alchemiter and begin reeling. You manage to also to free up your hand now and then to update Leraje on you status. Show log. This fish continues to flail, somehow gaining it more and more slack. It's slowly descending towards the pounding surf. you try to reel it in but the pole simply won't let you. It's like it has half a mind of it's own, kinda like Zebrek. And it's really pissing you off, sort of like Zebrek. > Caoway: Ask server for assistance. Show log. Outside, the cruxite fish descends closer and closer to freedom. > Caoway: Don't get frustrated! Like hell you won't! Show log. > Caoway: Listen to friend. No go, bro. Show log. A red glow fills the window. The meteor impact is imminent. The fish can practically taste the water. Your friend is berating you about your sea-life prejudice. This night officially sucks bone bulge. AP: Think, you fool. > Caoway: Now listen to friend. Well, that struck a nerve. You're about to die, why not spend your final moments exercising your weakest attribute? Leraje says to just let it go but... is that really what you are supposed to do? If he's wrong, the fish gets away and you're dead. Gone. Just like that. But if you're wrong, you'll waste all your time trying to do the exact opposite of this requires. And then, you're dead anyways. And if you're dead, you can't complete the chain. Sharl won't be able to get in. And you did say to yourself that your friends need you in the future, that probably won't stop being something that's true will it? What can you do? Well, there is that. MC: You're right. MC: I am a fool. > Caoway: Be the fool. You accede some line and quickly move around so that the line wraps around the pedestal on the alchemiter. You position yourself with your back facing the window and grip the line. You close your eyes... and jump backwards out the window. The fish is nearly touching the water when suddenly it is yanked back up. You open your eyes again as you rappel downwards with alarming speed. You see the cruxite fish on the other end of the line, ascending upwards. This stupid idea may actually work. You swing over the fish's half of line and grip both of them. The line cuts into your palm but you begin to slow. Finally, you and the fish stop halfway between the hive on the cape and the surf below and hang there. You move both lines to one hand. With your free hand you reach out and grab the fish. It wiggles uselessly in you clutch and gasps for breath. It stares into your eyes, and you stare into its. Then, you quickly move it's mouth over to your other hand and... carefully push the hook out with your thumb and index finger. CAOWAY: Can't let you G\o back into the /)rink, towinG\ a fiS\hinG\ pole with your mouth. CAOWAY: Well, off with ye then. You lob the fish, so that it goes in well past the rocks. As soon as you let it fly, the pole and line disappear. You quickly brandish own your pole and line and hook it onto the ledge. The line pulls taut and you dangle just above the surf. > Timer: Run out of numbers that aren't zero. 00 : 00 : 00 : 00 You look up and watch helplessly as the meteor closes in on you.
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Some quote: Quote:
Last edited by Intern Nin; 09-25-2011 at 02:48 PM. |
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01-14-2011, 08:58 PM | #14 |
Feelin' Super!
Join Date: May 2009
Posts: 4,191
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I wish this was longer
>[s]Caoway: Enter
Moments before the meteor, at its critical velocity, is about to touch down upon Caoway's lone shanty, it was held at bay by a large mass of blue and white clouds disrupting the sky. A large Impact could be heard, but Caoway found himself safe from destruction. Almost as soon as they appeared, the clouds dispersed and vanished, revealing a softly colored sky strewn with green. The air smeeled and tasted of salt, and the movemetns and crashes of waves could be heard from below. In fact, they could be seen from below as well. OH GOD THOSE ROCKS ARE SHARP. FOR THE LOVE OF JEGUS LET THE WIRE HOLD. It appeared the hook was planted onto the ground above. It was a long way up to what appeared to be a plateau made from Caoway's property. However, it was a much longer way down to the bottom. No obvious way up was in sight either. Out of the frying pan and into the oven it seems. >HANG IN THERE GRUB. |
01-15-2011, 02:04 AM | #15 |
Strike the Earth!
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Canada
Posts: 3,185
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> HANG IN THERE GRUB
Current Reztek pays no heed to your words of support. Nothing can console him right now. You could probably put a bucket on his head like some twisted sicko and he wouldn't even react. It's kind of pathetic really. > Be Future Reztek, the one who's doomed but isn't a total pansy Future Reztek is currently on another crazy journey that's so unbelievably amazing that if you saw what he was up to then you would probably stop caring about all other Rezteks. Here's a hint though: it involves surfing a meteor. Sounds awesome right? > Yeah it does. But can we move this along? Ok sure, just do that arrow thingy. =======> Some time in the past, but technically in the present from the point of view of everyone who isn't Future Reztek. > Wait is that bit of exposition really necessary? Less questions, more arrow thingy. =======> You are now Reztek again, precisely eleven minutes and two seconds after the death of Shelly. In case it wasn't clear this is the wimpy baby one that you can't command because he's an emotional wreck. But maybe something will happen soon that will snap him out ofBOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!! > Reztek: Snap out of your pathetic coma and realize there was some kind of explosion You do just that and proceed with the thought "What the hell was that?" Truth be told it almost sounded like a meteor hit your hive. How you know what that would sound like is kind of odd, but you have more important things to worry about, like the meteor that just hit your hive. Maybe you should go investigateOHMYGOD WHAT THE HELL? =======> There's... there's a bleeding you standing in the doorway of your respite block. He is missing an arm, bleeding pretty badly, and has numerous other cuts and bruises possibly from riding a meteor into a hive. It's all rather horrifying, and you feel like you're about to freak the fuck out. =======> show conversationlog =======> You then proceeded to tell yourself the basics of SGRUB and why it would be extremely dumb not to play. He also dropped an ominous hint that may or may not have hinted that Shelly wouldn't stay dead for too long. Here's a hint to what that hint may or may not have been hinting: she's not going to stay dead for long. You are genuinely shocked and surprised by this startling revelation. =======> show conversationlog > Future Reztek: Be incredibly stupid and heroic As Reztek runs past you on his way to the sub-basement you enter his respite block and get to work. This will be tricky to do with only one arm, but you think you can make it work. First you check the wall of amps and make sure they are all connected properly and plugged in, which of course they are. It may be an impromptu doomsday device, but they're still amps and amps deserve to be powered, regardless of how dangerous they might be. > Reztek: Find a suitable instrument With one arm your options are pretty limited, but you think you have just the thing. You dash to a nearby room and return with a microphone in hand and quickly plug it into the Universal Jack at the base of the Wall of Amps. > Reztek: Crank it up to eleven What?! No way! You're trying to be a hero here, not obliterate the countryside. No let's start with a sound check first. You turn the dial up to a measly 3 and prepare for the worst. =======> Oh and by "sound check" you meant "psychic resonance check." The resulting psychic shock wave blasts the opposite wall and ceiling off into the distance. It's a good thing you started your psychic resonance with the sound waves in front of you instead of at their source, because you doubt you would have survived that. > Reztek: Look up You gaze sky-ward and set your sights on a meteor you were looking at not too long ago, only back then it was on a display. Yes this is the second meteor of interest, one that would prematurely hit your hive and create another doomed time line. Frankly you've had enough of those, and it's about time you stopped one from happening instead of going out of your way to make one. The meteor seems pretty close, so you'll only have one, maybe two chances to do this right. > Reztek: Double it up The dial gets cranked up to six and you let loose one of your most hardcore screamochestrock (screamo orchestral rock) screams. Actually you're mostly just screaming in pain and frustration, but it's essentially the same thing. All of your efforts are focused on channeling your psychic powers, and at these volumes it's hard enough to start the resonance safely in front of you, let alone keeping it stable at such staggering distances while trying to hit a meteor. However you keep at it for a few seconds before dropping to the floor gasping for breath. > Reztek: Look up, hope for the best Oh shit. It didn't work. The meteor is still heading straight for you. This isn't good. > [S] Reztek: Double or nothing You crank the one universal dial up to twelve. You're not even sure why you had that installed, but it seems like it's finally going to be useful. There won't be any hope for safety at this volume, all you can do is try to channel the damage away from the hive. A smile crosses your face as you stare up at the fiery rocky death hurtling towards you. You had a good run for a doomed copy, and at least you're going out doing something good. You're not going to botch this up either; you're going to wait until the meteor is right on top of you before you sign out. You even have the perfect line for what will surely be a devastating act. > Reztek: Save Reztek, preserve the time line, be a hero show herolog
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POS Almighty has spoken. Last edited by Arcanum; 01-15-2011 at 02:06 AM. |
01-15-2011, 07:45 PM | #16 | |
Making it happen.
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Why didn't anyone tell me about stairs? And drawing people walking down them?
> Be someone less heroic and less doomed.
You are now Burgun. > ...Yeah, okay. Proceed. You've just finished reading the guide Leraje sent you, and you are a bit out of sorts right now. You are suddenly acutely aware that the game you are to play isn't FLARP at all, but rather some super-armageddon which will wipe out everything on the planet. Who knew? It's a little unbelievable that someone would MAKE such a game, but you wouldn't put it past some jackass to try it just because he could. You've heard some rumors about some "til-death" programming language that allows for some terrifying stuff. Plus, it would explain the sudden meteor showers. Hey, it's not like you stand to gain anything by disbelieving it at this point. On the plus side, this "not-dying-in-SGrub-for-assholes guide" says that those who partake in the game will be spared the apocalypse. Perhaps you can use this to your advantage? You captchalogue your laptop in your WALLET MODUS make your way downstairs to what passes for a living room. It's where you keep most of the furnishings you DO have. Sylvia has trouble with stairs, so if you want to keep something away from her ruinous paws, this is the place for it. > Plot! Plot like your life depended on it! Right, okay. Game-face time. You've already got an in for this game, so there's nothing further you can do to ensure your own safety until your new friend Piron connects to you. You believe you should take some time to get the word, and this game, out to your acquaintances. Hopefully it'll spread from there. > Contact the green-blooded girl from before. Of course. Neethe Clodle, your matesprit. Never much of a fighter, but she's a proficient FABRICATOR and can work miracles with her needles. She's always been the most social of your acquaintances, primarily due to not having muscles for brains like the majority of your social circle. You place your laptop on the nearby counter and start chatting her up. PESTERLOG: Code:
brutalTrifecta [BT] began trolling harmoniousStitch [HS] BT: neeetheee, bit of a SITUATION. HS: Oh=I-knew-it= HS: I-knew-you-were-getting-into-trouble= BT: what? BT: oh, no, no!!! BT: not that. worseee. BT: haveee you beeen geeeting MEEETEEEOR showeeers reeeceeently? HS: Why=yes=How-did-you-know= HS: Please-tell-me-you-aren=t-responsible-somehow= BT: nothing likeee that, loveee. BT: but i haveee it on good authority that it's only going to geeet WORSEEE. BT: likeee, eeend of theee WORLD worseee. >:-( HS: Some-of-the-impacts-have-wiped-out-some-nearby-hiveblocks= HS: I-admit-I=ve-taken-shelter-underground= HS: But-is-it-really-all-that-bad= BT: i BEEELIEEEVEEE so. BT: but i may haveee a solution. BT: theee meeeteeeors, i think, weeereee calleeed by a GAMEEE madeee by someee assholeee. BT: but this sameee gameee is also a TICKEEET to salvation, if you can win it. HS: This-is-not-the-sort-of-thing-one-should-joke-about=Burgun= BT: i WISH i could makeee this up. BT: look, i'veee alreeeady gotteeen myseeelf into a group for theee gameee. BT: (theee sameee group that was supposeeed to beee for theee sparring circleee, go figureee) BT: what i neeed you to do is takeee theee gameee i'm about to seeend to you, reeead theee guideee it comeees with, and start up your own seeession!!! brutalTrifecta [BT] sent harmoniousStitch [HS] file "Sgrub_remastered.texe" and file "Not_dying_in_Sgrub_for_assholes_v0.01.ttxt" HS: Wait= HS: Can=t-I-just-join-yours= HS: I-would-like-to-be-there-with-you= BT: so do i. BT: but it's COMPLICATEEED. BT: basically, theee moreee PLAYEEERS in a singleee seeession, theee longeeer it takeees to start up. BT: and timeee is not on our sideee. BT: weee alreeeady have EEEIGHT peeeopleee in this oneee, myseeelf includeeed. BT: but what i neeed you to do is IMPORTANT. BT: start your own seeession, and teeell as many peeeopleee about theee gameee as you can, so theeey can start theeeirs. BT: i think that's theee beeest way to saveee as many trolls as possibleee. HS: === BT: neeetheee? HS: Alright= HS: I=ll-do-it= HS: Not-that-I=ve-anything-better-to-do-while-I-wait-out-the-meteors= HS: But-you-had-better-be-right-about-all-this= HS: For-both-our-sakes= BT: yeeeah. i know that. >:-\ BT: maybeee onceee weee'veee WON weee'll beee ableee to seee eeeach otheeer again. BT: until theeen, weee'll just both haveee to keeep on LIVING. HS: Yeah=Okay= HS: Anything-else-I-should-do= BT: no, that should beee all. BT: good luck, neeetheee, and don't dieee!!! HS: Same-to-you= BT: <3 HS: Heart= brutalTrifecta [BT] ceased trolling harmoniousStitch [HS] That seems to be about the extent of what you can do for her. You'll have to hope she can handle the rest from here. But there's still more than you can do. > Contact the Alternian Fleet! Right. The fleet would surely want to know that their home planet is being bombarded by meteors. Maybe they can render aid, or at least destroy the meteors that have yet to enter the atmosphere. Now that you think of it, the second option is more likely. The only aid they'd ever render is to make sure the mother grub is intact. Survival of the fittest and all that, and if you can't dodge a meteor, then you aren't fit to survive. You open up a Trollian window and begin chatting with the sergeant whom appraised your ability before. Code:
brutalTrifecta [BT] began trolling tunguskaReloaded [TR] BT: sir, i haveee teeerribleee NEEEWS!!! TR: whaT The hell aRe you calling me back so soon foR, gRub! BT: MEEETEEEORS are bombarding theee planeeet, sir! TR: i am fully awaRe of ThaT, gRub. TR: Those few ships in alTeRnian oRbiT ThaT haven'T been desTRoyed by The showeRs aRe RaTheR oveRwhelmed. TR: unTil we can ReinfoRce The aRea you'll jusT have To bunkeR down and deal wiTh iT. BT: but sir, i'veee heeeard that theee meeeteeeors are going to just keeep geeetting worseee till theeey SCOUR THEEE PLANEEET. BT: i don't know how much TIMEEE weee'veee got. TR: unless you've goT pRoof of ThaT, i advise you To sTay away fRom such heResay. TR: aT any RaTe, necessiTy isn'T gonna make Those Relief ships come any fasTeR. TR: so gRow a neRvous column and soldieR on, gRub! BT: yeees, sir. tunguskaReloaded [TR] ceased trolling brutalTrifecta [BT] > Install SGrub. Probably a good idea. It'd be ideal to be prepared for when Piron and Leraje are ready to connect with you. But you've got a little time before the installation completes. > Kill time by watching the meteor showers. Look into another troll's well-being while we wait.
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Quote:
3DS Friend Code: 4441-8226-8387 Last edited by Loyal; 01-15-2011 at 09:56 PM. |
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01-16-2011, 01:59 AM | #17 |
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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>Kill time by watching the meteor showers. Look into another troll's well-being while we wait.
You are now looking at Zebrek. >Zebrek: Wake up. You can't give Zebrek any commands because you're not him! You're only looking at him. >First, be Zebrek. Second, wake up. You are now Zebrek. And awake! You passed out after holding your breath in frustration and not being allowed to play the game. >Repost chatlogs. No, they've already been posted once, and you can't be bothered to keep track of all the things you've said. >Zebrek: Hold breath. Your course of action is crystal clear. You must hold you brea- wait, crystals? Oh right, your friend Piron has crystals. And you said you'd ask another of your friends for an air supplying suit so you could visit her in her underwater hive and look at her collection. > Troll Derpah. Show Trollog >======> Now that that's done, you should get back to the game. Gorrma and Glissa may be silly dummies who don't want to connect with you, but that doesn't mean you can't start by captchaloguing any items from your cave that might be useful. You prepare to draw on your Pictionary Modus! >Draw microscope. You attempt to draw a microscope from your collection. >======> You get a ghost image of an Alternian Devilhound! >Try again. You try again and get a ghost image of an Alternian Devilhound Alpha. Joy. >Draw dragon plush. You attempt to draw one of your dragon plushes. Fortunately, your modus buys it this time. >Draw something awesome! HELL YES. You get a ghost image of... a zombie bard shooting a guy in the face with a cannon-gator? What the hell is this? >Who cares? Draw something else! You get a ghost image of the KRINGLEFUCKER. It's the prettiest tree you've ever seen. >Zebrek: Draw a rocket! You draw a fucking awesome rocket! It turns into... the ghost image of a rocket dildo? Ewwwwwwww... >Draw the code for the rocket dildo. You have no idea why you did this! It turns into a ghost image of Seth Rogen! >Zebrek: Get trolled. You're getting trolled! How exciting! You hurry over to your husktop. Show Trollog >Be the other troll.
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Dracorion's dumbass color is Royal Blue. If you see that color, you better run the fuck away. |
01-16-2011, 03:34 PM | #18 |
SOM3WH3R3
Join Date: Jun 2009
Posts: 4,606
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> You are now past-
HE WILL REGRET THIS. BLASPHEMY WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED; ANOMALIES WILL NOT BE PERMITTED. HE WILL PAAAAAAAAY. Past Scalis is too angry for you to be him! > Be him anyway. Oh allright then. You are now past Scalis. > What would Jegus do? You know what Jegus would do.You researched that book, you wrote it! You went through ancient tome upon ancient tome to rediscover the long-forgotten tales of the Sanguine Redeemer's Exploits. You ventured into the depths of the library to find what remained of the Ancient Scriptures. You learned everything about him, everything you could, simply to write that Tome. And that foolish wriggler defiled it. You know very well what Jegus would do. > Do that, then. Oh, you fully intend to. Your eyes dart around the shadowy hall, vengeful, searching. There are orange edges to your vision, and your headache feels like it's flaring up again, but that is, at this point, irrelevant. Your anger is keeping it at bay, and your vision seems so much more... clear... than usual. You're acutely aware of the room around you, of the rough surface of the rock floor, the grain of the shelves' wood, the scraps of paper near one exit... A cold smile flits across your lips as you rise from your crouch and head through the exit, intitally at a brisk, dignified walk, then, as your anger grows, at a full-pelt sprint. You lose your slippers somewhere behind you, but now is not a time for stereotypes. Or dignity. You come across a ladder leaning against a shelf and scramble up. Then you continue running, across the tops of the shelves this time. The trail of scraps has long since petered out, but somehow... somehow you know where you'll find your victim. You feel him ahead of you, somewhere in the dark gloom of the library. He has a head start, but you're catching up fast. Your strides are long as you run and leap across shelves, bypassing the winding aisles. The wind at your back has been accompanying you since you began running, cooling, comforting, helping you keep control of yourself. You notice that the closer you get to your goal, the stronger it seems. And the rustling of pages is getting louder. You realize that you're not alone here. The library's here with you. It guides you, directs you against this blight upon it. It wants the Anomaly dead, and it's using you to do it. But you're 0kay with that. Right now, you'd be 0kay with lots of things, as long as they involve venegance. And knowing that this is truly your duty, and not just a feud... that gives you all the more resolve. A resolve that only strengthens as you realize exactly where your sense is guiding you. Sweeps ago, you divided your hive into sections, to make it easier to map. And while the further reaches remain impossible to accurately navigate, and aisles seem to shift with annoying frequency, some sections remain mostly stable. Among them is this one. You've even managed to number the study halls. The stinking evidence of his blasphemy is laying in the centre of Section 1, hall 11. And right now, your enraged dash is bringing you ever closer to Section 1, Hall 12. Your teeth clench. You've built some devices there. Your memory overwhelms you sometimes, weakens your mind, makes you lose control. You've been experimenting with ways to keep it at bay... and lighting is one of the, your blackened horns can attest to that. You've traded for materials and devices with some of your friends, and it has cost you... if he demolishes those as well... Once again you leap, from one shelf to another, the wind at your back letting you breach the gap. You land, roll, come to your feet fluidly, ready to continue on- Only to realize that you've found your target. You've overlooking the hall, illuminated by a dozen interconnected metal-and-glass orbs. A bright glow emits from them, the glow of tamed lightning and running current. Many a night you've spent here, tinkering, listening to the lightning strike, channeling it, using it. Keeping the tide of memory at bay. Not forgetting, you can't forget, but keeping yourself... ordered. In the here and now. These are important to you. Or would be, if the Anomaly wasn't destroying them one by one. > Address the Anomaly pandorasArchivist [PA] started trolling spectacularHellion [SH] PA: What. PA: What did you doooooooo. |
01-18-2011, 05:29 AM | #19 |
Ara ara!
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IROPHA: > Wake up.
Unnnh. > Wake up Iro! Aunnnh. > WAKE UP! Your head hurts. You ache all over. Where, where are you? How did you get here? > Look around. You're in a cavern. The walls are thick with ice, their hazy translucency marred with red sparks, the dim light from above concetrated in the cracks within. The walls curve upward meeting at a jagged hole in the icy ceiling above you. That is obviously how you got in here. Looks like you won again, gravity! A pea sized red light is in the sky. A meteor? Already? How long have you been unconscious? > Rise up. You find that unexpectedly difficult to do. Your ankle is broken. The fake one, fortunately. > Check pager. This thing is going crazy! > Review conversation with Gorrma -- hastyExecutor [HE] began trolling omnipotentOmnivore [OO] -- HE: HEY GORM^^^^^^^!!! HE: I H^vE SOME GOURMET PIES FROM ^ >ELIvERY TH^T SOMEONE >I>N'T W^NT HE: WOUL> YOU LI|<E TO TRY SOME?![/QUOTE] OO: !!! OO: would i ever! OO: wow. i dunno why anyone wouldn't want a delivery of piesh. that'sh jusht crazy-talk. OO: but then, i've learned that not everyone hash tashtesh ash refined ash mine. ]:-/ OO: kinda weird, i know, but it'sh true. shome people jusht can't OO: appreciate food like i can. life musht be really boring for them. OO: like a while ago, i wash talking to aldurin and he shaid that-- OO: !!! OO: oh! that remindsh me! i might have shome shtuff for you to deliver to shome OO: friendsh of mine, if you have time!! OO: depending on what i can get accomplished here today. ]:-\ HE: GRE^T! I'LL BE THERE ^S SOON ^S I C^N! -- hastyExecutor [HE] stopped trolling OmnipotentOmnivore [OO] -- You don't remember saying that. > Check update by ally. -- burlesqueBalderdash[BB] began trolling hastyExecutor[HE] -- BB:O>o iropha STOP BB:O>o the preparations are complete STOP BB:O>o it is time for the pies STOP BB:O>o i trust that you have handled my 40 pies with care STOP BB:O>o even the slightest of mishandling will render them inadequate for proper pile dynamics STOP BB:O>o also make sure they are not cakes STOP BB:O>o people seem to have trouble with that STOP HE: SORRY TO |<EEP YOU W^ITING HE: THERE'S BEEN ^ SLIGHT PROBLEM! HE: I SEEM TO H^vE F^LLEN OFF ^ CLIFF ^N> BRO|<EN MY LEG HE: BUT REST ^SSURE> THE M^IL WILL GET THROUGH! HE: ^N> vINT^G, YOU |<NOW PERFECTLY WELL TH^T I C^N ONLY GIvE YOU TWENTY PIES! HE: TH^T'S ^S M^NY ^S TWO TENS, NOT FOUR!!! HE: IF YOU NEE> MORE TH^N TH^T, TRY SPE^|<ING TO GORRM^ > Discuss other business. butketHed [BH]- began trolling hastyExecutor [HE]- BH: Iropha, I'm in dire need of your assistance! BH: I recently recieved two orders. Both of them being a considerable task. BH: One being a oven, oversized class to be delivered to Gorma. The other being a delicate shipment of medical supplies to be sent to Nasyrl. BH: I'm already going mad getting everything all ready. BH: Can I count on your assistance to deliver them posthaste? HE: THE POST IS ^LW^YS >ELIvERE> WITH H^STE!!! HE: >I>N'T ME^N TO LEAvE YOU H^NGING HE: H^> ^N ^CCI>ENT HE: EvERYTHING'S UN>ER CONTROL NOW THOUGH HE: I'LL BE THERE SOON > Speak with asshat. -- antipathicHopper [AH] began trolling hastyExecutor [HE]-- AH: Hey. AH: W[]r|_d's ending. AH: Wanna |_ive? AH: Then p|_ay a ga^^e with ^^e. AH: Up f[]r it? HE: I H^vE SOME THINGS TO >ELIvER HE: ^N>, H^H^, I'vE F^LLEN BEHIN> SCHE>ULE HE: BUT ^FTER TH^T, SURE > Summarise situation. You have roughly half a dozen things to deliver, a very long way to travel, a broken leg and a pressing deadline in meteor form. > Wipe that grin off your face. NEvER!!! WE ARE DOING THIS MAN WE ARE MAKING THIS HAPPEN
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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; 01-23-2011 at 06:20 AM. |
01-23-2011, 12:01 AM | #20 |
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 Blasphemer
You are now Troll Jugas, many sweeps ago. You have just sold out your lord and savior, Troll Jegus, for thirty gallons of assorted lusus blood to take part in many dark rituals in honor of the HORROTERRORS OF THE FURTHEST RING. With this you can finally summ- > CAN WE PLEASE JUST BE SOMEONE WHO CAN TELL US WHAT HAPPENS NEXT You are now Dracorion. > GODFUCKINGDAMMIT What's that? I can't hear you over all the meta I'm going here. But this isn't nearly meta enough. > AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA You are now Dracorion writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta writing about going more meta ad infinitum. There, you can't go any more meta than that. Unless... > AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH H!!!!!!! You are now God. You are willing one of your subjects going by the internet handle of Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion to write about God willing Dracorion ad infinitum. Now it's an infinite recursive loop of meta. > Hey, what's up with you guys? > You doin' okay? > Hang on, lemme get my fourth wall over here and see what's wrong. > Ooof! This thing is heavy. Lemme just turn it on aaaannddd... > Oh, you just had to hang yourselves, didn't you? Couldn't take a little meta? You blubbering goddamn pussies. > Alright, alright. > Readers: Be alive. > You are now alive. Huh, that was pretty cool. Let's have some fun. > Readers: Dance like idiots. > You dance like idiots. > Readers: Squawk like a parrot and shit on your desk. > You squawk like a parrot and shit on your desk. Okay, that's enough fun. Let's move on. > Readers: Type "> Be past Scalis" ... ... ... ... > Be past Scalis Scalis it still too angry for you to be him! > Be him anyway No, seriously. Not possible. > Be past Zebrek Zebrek is too busy breaking Scalis' stuff for you to be him. > Be... someone else, then? There's just Scalis and Zebrek here. And the Watcher. > Be the Watcher. You try to be the Watcher. As much as you can be him, anyway. Her. It. You exist. But who, what, when, where, why you are... that's something you don't even know. Something that doesn't matter. All there is is fears to ask, doth teach to be deny'd memory. What is. What will be. That is what you are. Glimpses of minds, of pasts, of presents, of emotions and struggles shall achieve in time what... > Watch Watch what when who? > Remember, then. You remember. Remember the Servant, who guards, will guard. Flying on wings of rage, your applause urging him on. You Will nothing, but you know, knew Before you contradict, good reader, what he must do, what must take place. You It is innocent caused it. And he unless found guilty heard. You remember how he will hunt. You remember his words. tinged by rage. pandorasArchivist [PA] started trolling spectacularHellion [SH] PA: What. PA: What did you doooooooo. SH: heeeeeeey scalis whats up why do you look angry PA: YOU. PA: You deflied it! PA: STOP! SH: oh is this all yours this stuff is pretty cool PA: DON'T! PA: Do not break it, do not touch it, do not know it! PA: You aer a bilght upon my hiev and tihs will not be telorated! PA: GET. PA: OUT. SH: dude whats got you so angry what is all this stuff anyway theyre pretty fun PA: You must ask? You hostelny daer ask yuo worm? PA: Thoes tihngs keep me saen! Yuo are distreyong my wokr! PA: WHY? SH: oh no you mean these arent toys im sorry scalis! PA: GET OUT PA: GET OUT PA: GET OUT The nothing more than worm meat---I just don't think about it when Anomaly. He... defiled the memory. Killed part of you, a strong part, one of... a million but a part nonetheless. And he does not aknowlege, he does not... remember. He child placed before natural phenomena which impress him like a fairy tale IS. The Anomaly, the one who, at another place and time... you would remember differently. But this is here and it is now... Or, rather, isn't. His touch careless, his mind... unaware, unforgivably unwarare, he... breaks, he destroys. Orbs of light in the darkness, made by the Servant, His. Now shattered. > Remember the conflict. The what? > The STRIFE A limit Patience has its limits passed, a restraint, broken. The Servant, mind ablaze with a cold rage, fanned by your currents, encouraged by your applause, he will attack. You... remember. Leap at the Anomaly, strike, flail, part of you in his hand, not read, not kept, but used with lethal purpose. 'HOW TO ELIMINATE INTRUDERS FROM YOUR HIVE: AN ILLUSTRATRED GUIDE". Irrelevant, as they are all you and you are all them... But fitting. A rustling of paper, an overhead strike, quick, lethal, but... All too slow, too ineffective, dodged by a quick nuisance, the Anomaly scared, confused, not knowing. Not When we remember we are all mad, the one who remembering. More words, futile scraps of thought and mind, they go under beneath your presence, your being and your have-been, they cannot change what is bound to occur. > Listen anyway SH: dude whats up with you! PA: If you do not konw, then, I am sorry to say, theer is no hepling you. SH: but it was just a bunch of glass stuff! PA: AND THE BOOK? SH: umm what boo- ooooohhh SH: well i really had to use the load gaper and i couldnt find it! PA: I wroet that. PA: Storytime, Moferthucker. A fitting finish as you... push again, applaud louder, force it. You must. The Servant must, there is... no choice, not now, perhaps never was. Another assault, leap, strike, again dodged. Further defilation, now? then?, as the Anomaly defends, dares fight back, defying who you are... Though not what must be. Sadly. Explosions in the darkness, a weapon, used, light, sound, shock. Lead flying through the air, breaking, destroying... more light in the darkness, the soothing orbs battered and broken, parts of you lacerated, all by one every rift of discovery holds a dark Anomaly. And more. Orange blood, having spurted through the air, shining in the light of dying lightning. A wound. Minor, neglegible. But a wound nonetheless, by an Anomaly, to your Servant, if your... domain. More threat. More defiance. Darkness, suddenly, lights flickering flashing, hiding your servant for just a... second? No sign of him but orange stains on the ground and... noise, noise from up high. Climbing in the darkness, running along shelves, a servant knows the domain better than the Anomaly will ever have. Silent steps now, watching, hunting, waiting to... strike, both you and the servant, connected further in... need, need to destroy this one. The Anomaly, still frightened, still confused, further ignorance, not... to be and he spake that the fallen would not be allowed forgiven. A rustling from a shelf, your product, your act and the Servant's assistance as an Anomaly, turning around, weapon at ready, for further and said "you have no hope, no future, no defiance, further defilation. But he will regret. Eventually. The distraction successful, the Anomaly, now the Prey, startled, vulnerable. A Servant's leap from a shelf up high, striking at Prey with a venegance, book still in hand, teeth bared in a snarl, unforgiving, feral. Your wind always at his back. He does what must be done. His leap, succesful, but his strike avoided, if narrowly. Elegance forgotten, rage taking over completely. As it had to. A melee on the ground, a scuffle for control of Tome and Weapon, shots fired wildly, orbs smashing, lighting flashing, hot glass and lead slicing the air and the shelves, biting into... You, draining you, reducing you. A struggle for control, desperate, savage, claws and teeth used, a shoulder bashed with a Tome, a Riflebutt almost breaking a horn, a struggle for survival. And then a blow, a lucky blow, combatants suddenly apart, will reach for their weapons, have lunged. A blast, loud... The Anomaly, weapon in hand, a desperate shot fired, smashing into the servant, blocked only by the Servant's Tome. The Servant, life saved by Your Fragment, now destroyed by the attack, thrown backwards, tumbling through the air... Another crash, a flash of light. A collision, the Servant smashing the last and grandest orb, a flash of light, a shock of thunder, power flowing over him and through him, shaking him, his hair singed, his skin blackened, his horns charred. His mind... changed, confused. Your bond with him, broken. A servant? Still. But not as devoted. And memories... memories banished, for now, then, when? Nought but a bad dream. The Anomaly leaves, still scared, still confused. But alive. "Hatred stirs up disputes, but love covers all offenses."
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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; 01-23-2011 at 12:39 AM. |
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