Trollslum Act 2: Under siege by planet Jupiter - Page 7

Aldurin · 04-27-2011, 05:14 PM

>Be someone less clueless.

You succeed so hard you actually manage to be Herpey.

Death continues to feast within the distant craters, but you know that he won't stay there forever.

The situation would probably hilarious from an outside perspective, but right now you have to live through it. Given the chatlogs that you've monitored from your personal terminal and the meteors approaching outside, it looks like shit is going to crash down on you all at once and your only hope will be him. You really wish you picked a different troll to raise, anyone but Aldurin. Other dysfunctions would have been more tolerable than inducing apocalypses for mere games.

And he probably still believes that the deaths of the wards for the other psychotic juveniles were coincidence, merely bad luck at an inconvenient time. But you can't rule that out, you can't risk letting your guard down in the case that some arcane force truly is orchestrating your unsuspecting death.

You turn away from your personal terminal for the mainframe, one of the few pieces of work that kid has done right, and get back to work on your project. The energy rifle you're building should be versatile enough for skirmishes with whatever might come in and try to kill you, should it ever come to that.

You carefully wire in the power core . . . and you won't stop feeling this urge to cross the circuit connections. The resulting overload would detonate the rifle and surely kill you, and you begin to feel a sick feeling of dread as you're expertise attempts to turn against you.

You quickly force the wiring into the correct positions and push the rifle away from you. Your heart pounding, you finally realize that death is out to find you, and this time it's becoming more resourceful.

You begin to assess possible escape options, since staying with Aldurin is now more dangerous than ever. You doubt you could escape the blast radius in time, but staying on the mountain long enough to go wherever Aldurin is supposed to end up may work.

As much as you don't like it, you're going to have to assist that irresponsible troll in his survival. Then you should have time to seek out sanctuary from mortality.

>Wait, what?

Arhra · 05-02-2011, 08:55 AM

> Iropha: Converse with brooding type

vengefulRodentia [VR] began trolling hastyExecutor [HE]
VR: all right...
VR: you had better be... as FAST as you THINK you are...
HE: I'M F^STER TH^N I THIN|< I ^M!
HE: THIN|< ^BOUT TH^T >:3
HE: ONE MOMENT
VR: ...
HE: JUST THREE >OTS?
HE: I'M ^HE^> OF SCHE>ULE THEN!!!
VR: meteors...
VR: my... CONTINUED survival...
VR: I am very... very interested in how you protect the...
VR: latter...
VR: ...from the former.
HE: BY M^INT^INING ^ S^FE >IST^NCE OF COURSE!
HE: YOU SEE, THE THING ^BOUT >E^>LINES IS THE ONLY MINUTE TH^T RE^LLY M^TTERS IS THE L^ST ONE >:3

> Jump ahead to the last minute

No, there's still time!

> Explore ice caves instead

You've got to find your way out of this maze of twisty caverns if you want to be able to find a computer, install SGRUB and somehow save a caped crime-fighter's life.

It's a pity about that broken leg though.

> Use contents of captchalogue to repair artificial leg.

There's no time for that! This is a precision piece of machinery you're talking about.

If only you carried half a dozen fake limbs around with you at all times, like a sensible person.

> Use contents of captchalogue to make a splint for artificial leg.

Using a PROP SCEPTRE, a MINIATURE ARQUEBUS and a sufficient application of DUCT TAPE, you cobble together a crude splint.

You have waaaaaaay too many weird hobbies.

=>

The caves are ice, a mixture of blinding white and weird crystaline patches. As you climb upwards, you notice some dark shapes in the wall as you poke aorund.

> Retrieve legs from wall

This ice is no match for your pyrokinesis!

You found the LEGGY FOSSIL!

If these are the bones of some sort of horrible primeval reptile, why is it frozen in ice?

> Excavate!

You found the FROZEN CUTTLEFISH!

How did this even get here? You think it might still be alive, so you leave it in a block of ice when you captchalogue it.

It might be useful.

=>

You found the ANCIENT CHEST!

The era of these frozen objects makes no sense at all. It appears to be locked with a combination lock.

Look at some other mystery instead.

Arcanum · 05-03-2011, 03:44 AM

> Look at some other mystery instead

You are now Reztek, who unfortunately is not faced with a mystery and knows exactly what is in front of him. He has been thrown straight into the fire, missing the frying pan completely. In fact, there was no pan; only endless fire. That's how bad it is right now.

> Reztek: Observe cruxite item

In front of you an adult Troll is seated in a grand throne, all composed of blue cruxite. Still, despite the monochromatic features you recognize this particular troll. The Orchestrator described in eloquent detail that wild mane of hair, the long horns, and the mask of death painted on his face. Sitting before you is a replica of the Grand Highblood.

> Reztek: Look down

You look down and find a lute in your arms. An old court lute to be precise, with a wide, short, bent neck, and sixteen strings. Part of you prays the thing is tuned properly since it would take quite a while to bring all those strings into proper harmony. Well, at least everything is made of this blue cruxite stuff and can't actually do anything. Otherwise you would be terrified if that model of the Grand Highblood acted like the reaSCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

> Reztek: Look up

You look back up at the Grand Highblood, who has just reached down beside his throne and withdrawn a large club. The entire ordeal sounded like glass being scraped with a jagged stone. It seems the cruxite can move. And it also seems like the Grand Highblood is displeased with your stalling and the lack of music.

> Reztek: Quick! Play a song!

You attempt to think of a suitable song but fail miserably. What could you possibly play for the Grand Highblood that would keep him from killing you? And on top of that it seems you are stuck with this lute, a deviously rare instrument that you have little to no practice with. And with each passing moment the Grand Highblood grows more impatient.

> Reztek: Play the rainbow

That doesn't even make any sense!

> Reztek: IMPROVISE!

Well you really only have three choices. Death by Highblood, death by meteor, or try to play something and hope you don't die. Well, here goes nothing.

========>

You pluck a few tentative notes to get the feel for the instrument and the Highblood's grip on his club loosens fractionally, glad to see that you started playing. You attempt a few chords, one of which ends up sour but you are quick to rectify the mistake. With your confidence growing you proceed into the beginning of a ballad, thoughts spinning away as you attempt to plan and weave a web at the same time. The music starts soft and slow, though ever so slowly gaining speed as you become more familiar with the instrument and build towards the beginning of your song. The moment strikes you and you begin to sing.

You weave a tale of a rebellion formed of all parts of the hemospectrum; Trolls uniting together to throw off the oppression of the Highbloods and the Empress. You sing of their efforts, their losses, and their victories. You can tell the Grand Highblood is displeased with the direction of this song, but that was your intention as you set the stage for the true story.

A quick shift in position and fingering and the song takes a quicker, and yet more sombre, tone. The Highbloods have failed to crush the rebellion, and it is time for the Grand Highblood himself to see an end to it. Your song tells the story of his hunt, his game, his victory. He seeks out the pockets of rebels one by one and paints the walls with their blood. A rainbow road of death and despair follows in his wake as he purges the planet, his planet, of the rebellion.

========>

You prepare to continue but a thought trickles into your mind unwelcomed. How long have I been playing? How much time until the meteor hits? Against your better judgement you try to glance towards the cruxtruder. As you turn your head your fingers slip and your song falls apart too quickly for you to piece it back together. Your gaze falls down to the lute, defeated, but is quickly drawn towards the Grand Highblood as he rises from his throne. A peculiar part of your mind wonders where the stone-on-glass sound went, and guesses that first noise was deliberately made. The Highblood approaches you slowly, club in hand, wearing the same mask of grim determination.

> Reztek: Plead for your life

You resist the urge to plead for your life. That is probably just what the Highblood wants; further humiliation before your death. No you will not give him the satisfaction. The Grand Highblood raises his club slowly, drawing the moment out.

The club descends. A meteor strikes.

========>

Arcanum · 05-03-2011, 11:19 PM

========>

You open your eyes and look around. Boxes piled high, game constructs strewn about, same old sub-basement; except with the notable lack of a cruxite Grand Highblood. It seems like you are still alive.

> [S] Reztek: Ascend

You emerge from the sub-basement and make your way to the front door. What lies beyond is a world unlike anything you�ve seen before. Your attention is first drawn to the sky, which looks like someone was haphazardly writing sheet music on the sky itself. There is no discernable order, and some lines curve into others or end abruptly or are simply cut off by other lines. Some just stop and are left blank for a while before starting anew.

As your gaze drifts across the sky you begin to notice the rest of the landscape as well. Large pyramidal metronomes float in the sky, all ticking to their own individual rhythm and refusing to find harmony with any others. The persistent ticks of the metronomes are offset by a handful of tocks that make their presence known. Your eyes shift to ground level to discover scattered buildings, some tall skyscrapers, others squat cathedrals with domed roofs, but each and every one of them still resembling a clock of some sort. And between the buildings the landscape itself is shaped like various instruments. The road leading away from your Hive appears to be oversized piano keys, and you can make out similarly oddly shaped landscape in the distance.

You can�t help but be amazed by all of it. And you can�t help but feel that you�re not alone.

Welcome to the Land of Metronome and Song.

The SSB Intern · 05-11-2011, 12:06 AM

For many years after the inhabitants were swept from its surface, the scorched planet was still berated by the howling wind. But even this died in time, the gusts quieted, yet still seethed. The Avenger's adversary stolen, it was reduced to a cursing murmur.

Silence. But not peace.

Never peace.

> Vintag: Wake up.

You are now Vintag and also conscious. Geez, this prophetic dreaming hooey is really starting to weird you out.

> What prophetic dreams?

You suddenly remember that you don't ever have prophetic dreams. You wonder why in the world you were even thinking about that.

Well, you can't just stay in be-... on the floor of your common block pondering life's great mysteries. Time to rise and face the near eternal night!

Oh wait, right, your lusus is dead.

> Mourn.

The world may be ending right in front of you, but, dammit, it wouldn't be right to just leave it like this. He was your lusus.

...Tears stream down your face, but no words come out. What do you say to the giant rodent thing that spent his life protecting you?

> "Sorry."

You remove yourself from the common block, and head back to your respite block. Your grubtop is on the floor, exactly where you left it before you ran out to go get scarred for whatever remains of your life.

> Call your friends. They'll know what to do.

You proceed to have a slew of conversations that have no real need to be revisited. Alas, it seems your lusus can also be revived.

> Then that was a rather pointless expression of the troll involuntary bodily function known as "grieving".

You don't even care. This the best thing you've heard since this nightmare started. You've got a feeling that nothing bad will happen ever again, ever.

> Let's skip ahead a bit shall we?

Reztek is about to die and his kernelsprite won't sit still and face his prototyping like a real alien concentration of pure creative energy! You even have one of Reztek's drums to contain and personally chauffeur it to it's lusus destination, but it just keeps darting around the hive like a buffoon.

Despite this, you manage to herd the kernelsprite close to the entrance. It's cornered, desperate. You leap at the chance and drive your drum/cup down on it, hard. It shatters against the wall. You look around and find your prey outside. Apparently it can phase through walls.

BB: O>o yes run run to your destiny little one STOP
BB: O>o and if you ever come back STOP
BB: O>o ILL KILL YOU STOP

You impotently type the above while chucking the first heavy, spiky, dead thing you can get your cursor on.

That'll show 'em. Now to find Shelly.

>...Skip some more.

After much hurried item deployment, the alchemiter has made... no. It can't be. Extending from one of the now endless dark corners of your hive's ceiling, a taut rope travels across most of the common block. It stops at a length from you and slides through a metal hoop and downward. Your eyes follow it to its end, a cartoonishly large inertia-inversing... forge... Gog fuck it, it's an anvil.

Underneath this malicious slab of steel, there is a large pink target symbol painted on your new rug. Inside this target, there is hysterical dame with long spindly limbs. And inside this hysterical dame is a voice that could shatter 5 inch plexiglass. You were warmly introduced to this fact when the two of you locked eyes and she released a sonic wave asking for assistance.

> Who thinks up this shit?

You did. This is the first routine you and Vicki ever built and attempted. Something tells you this one doesn't have a kill switch.

You begin to walk over to the dame, ready to let loose a flurry of backhands, when a meteor rips your southern wall from its home. The rope whips out of place and the anvil plummets. You dash heroically, but slip on a banana peel that you swear must be a construct of the test, honest. Without the time to right yourself, you make do with a sweet, potassium-rich slide and snatch the dame from sure destruction. Then you notice the path ahead is full of very likely destruction. The hysterical dame screams.

>DODGE

Weaving in and out from the various bowling balls, dumbbells, and anchors, you remember that you have very little time before you become a funny little troll pancake. Obviously, you have no time to waste to crash into something and then writhe in pain afterward. So how do you get yourself out of this pickle? You swing by the nutritional cryostorage unit and pick up the w magnet. You fiddle with your new mustache ponderously while HD provides more static feedback.

> A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES

You hear the echoic rumblings before you see it stagger into view. Ah. The washing machine appears to block your path once again. Its load is unbalanced and the only thing that will relieve its vengeful spirit is to see your crumpled remains at its feet. Or someone to turn it off.

Regardless of how much you trollsonify this dead jumble of mechanics, you don't want to deal with it now. With a snappy turn, you continue your journey back down the poorly lit hallway. There's even more deathly gags and props thrown around here. They race by you, only giving the slightest tease at where they will be. You swear to every pagan space god you know that if you live, this crap is going into a fire. You also should take care of that yeti that you are fairly certain lives here.

> Retreat to your respite block.

No good. This whole side is on fire. HD blows out one of your ear drums. You double back around, yet inexplicably continue sliding.

The hazards seem to present a more real threat now. You hit a dozen of them, and bounce off the walls. You still can't seem to stop though, and you feel sick to your stomach now. Everything seems to be falling down around you.

This might be related to your hive falling down around you.

>WASHING MACHINE ROUND 2

Nope, it sputtered out in the middle of the room. Rest easy, fella. I will carry this burden for you. Speaking of which, HD must be putting on some weight or something cuz-

> oh jegus what is that

Suddenly, screaming sounds like a very sound plan. You thrash about, removing yourself from the two abhorrent creatures' grip. The strange hall beast jumps away while you and HD keep sliding.

And then you stop. Thank Gog.

> ...Hey, uh, you might want to look around.

Why's that? It's just more of that meteor shower outside that you're trying to save yourself from.

> ...

...Oh.

Gravity suddenly remembers that it exists and you watch as the hole that used to be your south wall ascends into the heavens. Strangely, even with the wind pounding on the back of your skull, you can still hear that piercing wail. You glance over to the dame, not the least bit hoarse. You sincerely wish you could just die with some peace and dignity. There's gotta be some way...

> Vintag.

to shut that damn mouth of hers..

> Do it.

Your hand reaches out and claws into her shoulder.

> It's the only way.

"Here's looking at you grub."

> Kiss the girl.

...You hate yourself and everything.

[S] > Enter

Flarecobra · 05-13-2011, 01:29 PM

========>

You are now Prion.

>Be someone else.

No. You have a task.

Your server, Glissa, quickly set up all the gear needed, and explained what was needed to enter the Medium. She also highly suggested that you got yourself armed for what was to come.

>Check outside.

Everything looked normal, but the water tempeture has started to rise. And from you can figure out from other sources, meteors have been hitting the planet causing a large number of fires across the world, and the oceans are starting to feel the effects as well, starting to boil in some places. While she was setting up, you took the precausions of stocking up on some provisions, namely some fish and the cut-up lusus corpse.

There wasn't too much loose that was heavy enough to drop on the Cruxtruder, but a combonation of a large chunk of coral and a solid punch helped release the sprite.

Also, punching it kind of hurt.

> Ok, enough exposition. Get to prototyping!

Taking some advice from Glissa, you take the head of your late lusus and prepare to throw it into the sprite, but just as you toss it, a fish swims in and runs into the sprite, and in a flash of light, is absorbed by it!

Just as well, you kind of missed with the head anyway.

> See what fishsprite has to say.

Fishsprite: *Insert gibberish here*

Prion: ...

You just grab the sprite and shove in the head.

Congrats, you have have... Bonesharksprite!

>Great, now about the cruxite.

You pick up the iris-colored chunk of cruxite and the pre-punched card, noticing that there looked to be a tank of some kind on the card, and that the cruxite was the same color as your blood, you make up a totem, then swam outside to the alchomizer. Once there, you discover that it produiced 5 rather poorly-made nets, a tank, and a fish inside the tank.

>Eat fish.

You try to grab it, but it gets away at the last moment. Several times. It's a slippery bugger.

>Use nets.

You pick up the nets and examine them. They're fairly weak, and from you know from the fishertroll that you've Strifed with before in the past, you know that a fish like that can possabily rip them.... but maybe if you double-up on the nets...

Taking 4 of the nets, you double-up on them, then proceed to herd the fish to a corner.

There is a glow from above... a large meteor is coming. Even if it doesn't obliterate you right away, the heat it's generating can be enough to flash-cook you. You've got to hurry!

>Corner fish. Claim victory.

You corner the fish with one pair of nets, then as it tries to swim up to escape it, you use the other pair to trap it, completely encircling it in netting and lifting it out of the tank.

There is a flash of light as you do so.

Piron:Entry. [s]

Large, glittering coral reefs and atolls made of ruby, jade, and so on form much of the area. Islands with dazzling, multi colored sand appear from place to place. Under the water, a deep abyss can be seen that stretches unfathomable levels. The abyss seems to be letting off a large cloud of inky darkness that is slowly spreadinjg across the water. Trees with stone-like fruits are also present.

LAND OF GEMS AND REEFS

Bard The 5th LW · 05-30-2011, 01:33 AM

>Vintag: Enter

All noise ceases. As the cloud like shield that saved you from the meteors washes away, so does all color. A dim light pervades the gray landscape, and the wind is even silent as it breezes through the alleyways. There is a faint grainy effect that occasionally dances across the eyes as well.

A view outside reveals a depressing landscape. Far below the building your hive rest upon, an urban wasteland lies. Badly paved roads lead to nowhere in a world of gray stone.

The KERNELSPRITE hatches behind you. The two halves reach to both DERSE and PROSPIT. A rustling is heard behind, or at least it would if this place had noise. Two rodent-like CONCRETE IMPS with scythes and claws approach from behind. Their teeth are razor sharp like a sharks. They slowly descend from behind you. You should totally turn around.

In any case, welcome to the Land of Monochrome and Hush.

========>

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In contrast to the HERALD'S location, the Hero of Time is surrounded by constant sound of clocks and metronomes. In the midst of the overload of sound, it may be very easy to miss a few sights, like cold pair of white eyes on a dark face staring at you from the window before moving away.

It also made it rather difficult to hear other factors in the environment, like a pair of wings flapping at a quick rate. From below the platform of your hive flies a CHINA BASKILISK. The beige colored creature flies with a pair of ragged wings. It bore a bizzare, quizzical pattern of green spots that were reminiscent of a question hook. Its eyes were bug-like and reflected many different surfaces.

Its mouth smiling wide, it quickened the pace of its wings and made a mad dive for you.

========>

The HUNTER is also met with opposition almost immediately upon entering her sparkling world of gems and water. From several sides approach three ZIRCONIUM IMPS. Bearing thick shells across their backs, and skulls shaped like spades, they approached. With scythes and feline claws they reached out in attempts to make quick and fleeting strike upon her. Moving in and out there attacks were oddly coordinated. One of them even wielded a fallen Alternian SLAUGHTERFISH as a spiky club.

>Leraje: prepare for a boss fight

Best hope the MAGE OF HEART prepared during his time offscreen, because there was little time now. Amidst the small SHALE IMPS that were scattering around his suspended hive, and shrill scream filled the air.

"SCHRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Yeah it sounded sorta like that. The air surrounding grew cold and breathing became difficult. A putrid smell began to fill the air and the imps began to egress in large groups. The screeching carried on as whisps of black smoke moved upwards, revealing a TAR BANSHEE. The almost translucent monster bore the scythes of the mantis, fins of the shark, and its hands had the talons of a vulture. Its face was long and contorted a hood hiding most of its ghastly face. Draped across its shadowy and stretched form were chains, not unlike Leraje's own. These linked chains echoed as the beast circled Leraje's hive, screaming all the way. In its search for the mage, it hovered directly through walls and windows. Its claws were bared and its voice was blaring.

Show him what you're made of Highb100d!

>Glissa and Nasryl: Enter already.

Ughhhh maybe later.

Flarecobra · 06-06-2011, 04:02 PM

========> Explore!

You're Piron, and curiousity has gotten the better of you, and you are looking around, checking out the new surroundings. The water is far shallower then you're used to, at it's deepest it's about 50 feet deep. You stop for a moment to check out some of the unusal crystal growths when something at the surface catches your eye. It was fairly short yet sinewious, with what appeared to be shark fins on it's back.

Swimming around as low as you can go, you prepare for attack.

> Strife?

You blast up out of the water, claws at the ready and sucessfully scare the poor imp stiff. You stab down with your claws into it's iridecent body, and sucessfully pin it down. Pulling one of your arms back, you drive the claws into it's head, while dropping down to bite it's shoulder. It didn't taste good and appeared to be made of a soft crystalline material.. and that was all you got before the Imp disappeared under you. Taking a moment to wonder what happoned, a couple of splashes make you look up to see a trio of Imps approching, and they don't look happy to see you. Rolling back into a crouch, both to get into a position for a lunge, and to put a bit of distance between you and them, you make ready for a Strife.

mauve · 06-08-2011, 01:40 PM

>STRIFE!!

Command invalid. Please try again.

> Strife.

Command invalid. Please try again.

> STRIFE?

Command invalid. There is nothing here to STRIFE with.

> But you just said.... but the Imps... and the... fighting.. and... WHAT

Command invalid. You cannot fight the underwater imps if you are not PIRON.

> ....but I just WAS Piron!

That was then. This is now. Do try and pay attention.

> what is this i don't even

You are now GORRMA. You are in a bit of a PICKLE.

> oh good lord please don't start with any food puns, seriously.

In retrospect, you really should have taken care of the whole HOUSE BEING ON FIRE problem before getting involved with the game. In the time it took you to GET ZEBREK INTO THE MEDIUM, the flames had pretty much managed to DEVOUR MOST OF YOUR HIVE.

>....Please tell me that "devour" wasn't an attempt at a pun. Because that sucked.

You're currently holed up in one of the lower food-storage blocks. It has a eighteen-inch thick STEEL DOOR with a superb LOCKING MECHANISM, which you have managed to LOCK YOURSELF BEHIND. You used to use this room for raising WILD ALTERNIAN SCYTHE-TOOTH KILLER DEMON HENS for those times when you had a hankering for omelettes or fried chicken. Yes, you are aware of the irony of hiding from flames in this room.

> Maybe she'll die and then we can get back to the underwater fighting.

The threat of the impending METEORIC DOOM has not escaped you either. The really disturbing part is of course that you have NO IDEA when said meteor will hit, what with you being TRAPPED UNDERGROUND in what amounted to a STEEL VAULT OF DEATH, surrounded by FLAMES with no windows and no way to ESCAPE. So yeah, you were a little nervous.

> Use a spoon to dig your way to glorious freedom.

You already tried that. Turns out, you designed your SUBTERRANIAN KITCHEN HIVE to withstand attack from rival GOURMANCERS, and you did a REALLY GOOD JOB AT IT. The walls and floors are reinforced with several inches of STEEL. Wow, kid, you never do anything halfway, do you?

> Get help.

Hmm. It seems the only way to escape METEOR-THEMED DESTRUCTION is to enter the MEDIUM. Well, it worked for ZEBREK, anyway. You fire Trollian back up and attempt to contact your SERVER PLAYER. Well, after you grab a snack you found under a box in the corner.

View Troll Log

You start waving in some random direction. Tee hee. This is fun. Almost makes you forget about that whole "going to die horribly" thing!

Quote:

BH: ^^ Yes, I see someone, whom I can only presume to be you. :3

Well, it seems to be working. You--- HEY!

Your delicious SQUIRREL CARCASS is pulled from your hands and starts flying around the room! You were eating that!

Quote:

BH: 0.0 Oh hey, neat! I can commandeer your stuff! :3 Awesome. ^.^

The delicious squirrel is deposited on the other side of the room.

Quote:

BH: Going to clear up some space, so stay there for a bit if you can. ^^;
BH: <_ <I'd rather not bump something heavy your way because I couldn't predict your movements. ^^;
BH: >_> We're a little pressed for time, so go ahead and explain the next several steps at the same time. ^^;
BH: :3 It's not like your messages are going to disappear before I get to each step. =P

Various crates and cooking utensils start flying across the room, dropped into corners or pushed up against the wall. Oh dear, you hope he's careful with that. Alternian Nitroglycerin Fish, even dried Alternian Nitroglycerin Fish, tend to be a little volatile. The tin of fish is deposited on a shelf, and a pile of wooden barrels get tossed into a corner. Oh no!

View Troll Log

A can of PRESERVED NAPALM BERRIES, your favorite fruit, is slowly and delicately lowered to the floor.

Quote:

BH: ... Trying to save both our hides here. Unless you have a hankering to sample how your carcass tastes seasoned with the raw juices of your innards bubbling to a broth and your flesh barbarqued crispy from the meteors. >_<

Mmm. Barbecue.

Your thoughts are interrupted by two large machines being dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

View Troll Log

With a loud CRUNCH, a machine is dropped directly on top of the crate. ...your roaches.....

View Troll Log

You poke the cruxtruder with a spatula, trying to remember what to do. Something about....

Quote:

OO: oh right. we need to hit thish with shomething heavy sho the hungry light can come out.
BH: Hungry... Light... right... @_@

An industrial-strength dishwasher is ripped from its foundation and is hurled across the room. It impacts with the CRUXTRUDER, and the KERNELSPRITE emerges. It hovers above the machine, flickering in a SEIZURE-INDUCING kind of way.

View Troll Log

What do you want to use?

>Gorrma: Throw Basil.

Oh right! Basil, the Unfortunate Cyclops doll! It's about time the poor little guy got some of the spotlight. Ever since you ATE his left button-eye, PARSLEY and PESTO have been getting all the attention. Well, up until the point where PESTO got deep-fried and PARSLEY got eaten by a giant goat, but, y'know.

You grab the TOY and are about to throw it into the light--

Quote:

OO: oh! wait wait wait, no, i almosht forgot!!

You drop the TOY and open your CHEF MODUS.

Quote:

OO: caoway shaysh we can put our lushii into the hungry lightsh and they'll come back to
OO: life. we were going to try it with zeb'sh lushush, but we couldn't reach it. sho...
OO: i guessh nommington will have to be our proverbial laboratory tesht-rodent.
OO: i hope thish worksh. i really want to shee him again.
OO: i missh him sho much. he wash my besht friend.
OO: ... pleashe come back, nommie.

And with that lame-ass declaration (you really should have rehearsed that), you toss NOMMINGTON'S CORPSE into the kernelsprite.

Overcast · 06-11-2011, 12:41 AM

>Nommingsprite: CONSUME GORRMA.

You are not Nommingsprite. You are not a sprite at all! You are that strange little troll with the mechanized shipwall that you've recently fused with your lusus.

>Huh?

You are Leraje.

>Oh, alright wasn't he getting attacked?

You cover your ears in annoyance staring over your shoulder, a light cough pushing from your chest as the putrid air contaminated your squeedilyspooch or whatever it is you weird aliens breathed with. Your lususprite hovered over your shoulder, still fresh off of his hug addiction and greater than or equal to as annoyed as you were with EVERYTHING. Yet with this at least he could resist that sickening urge to hug and spoke to you with clear intentions.

Code:

Seymoursprite: Are you just going to let that thing breath our air or are you going to make me kill it?
Leraje: I'm on...it.
Seymoursprite: Good.

Seymoursprite followed behind you, as you pulled a long chain from your strife deck, wrapping it around one hand and spinning a length at the other. You stared around for the creature, not really understanding what alien culture had invented the mythology that the name of the monster was based on. Nor about how its wailing around the house was supposed to signal your death.

You weren't concerned about your death. As long as Seymour was on your side you were sure you could take anything this world could throw at you.

You were about to find out if that was true.

>Leraje: STRIFE!

You saw it swinging around the corner screaming all the while, you tried not to breathe, your eyes watering just a bit as you threw one end of the chair toward it. Trying to catch the damn thing around the neck and shut it up for a minute.

05-02-2011, 08:55 AM	#62
Arhra Ara ara! Join Date: Jul 2004 Location: Neo Venezia Posts: 5,013	> Iropha: Converse with brooding type vengefulRodentia [VR] began trolling hastyExecutor [HE] VR: all right... VR: you had better be... as FAST as you THINK you are... HE: I'M F^STER TH^N I THIN\|< I ^M! HE: THIN\|< ^BOUT TH^T >:3 HE: ONE MOMENT VR: ... HE: JUST THREE >OTS? HE: I'M ^HE^> OF SCHE>ULE THEN!!! VR: meteors... VR: my... CONTINUED survival... VR: I am very... very interested in how you protect the... VR: latter... VR: ...from the former. HE: BY M^INT^INING ^ S^FE >IST^NCE OF COURSE! HE: YOU SEE, THE THING ^BOUT >E^>LINES IS THE ONLY MINUTE TH^T RE^LLY M^TTERS IS THE L^ST ONE >:3 > Jump ahead to the last minute No, there's still time! > Explore ice caves instead You've got to find your way out of this maze of twisty caverns if you want to be able to find a computer, install SGRUB and somehow save a caped crime-fighter's life. It's a pity about that broken leg though. > Use contents of captchalogue to repair artificial leg. There's no time for that! This is a precision piece of machinery you're talking about. If only you carried half a dozen fake limbs around with you at all times, like a sensible person. > Use contents of captchalogue to make a splint for artificial leg. Using a PROP SCEPTRE, a MINIATURE ARQUEBUS and a sufficient application of DUCT TAPE, you cobble together a crude splint. You have waaaaaaay too many weird hobbies. => The caves are ice, a mixture of blinding white and weird crystaline patches. As you climb upwards, you notice some dark shapes in the wall as you poke aorund. > Retrieve legs from wall This ice is no match for your pyrokinesis! You found the LEGGY FOSSIL! If these are the bones of some sort of horrible primeval reptile, why is it frozen in ice? > Excavate! You found the FROZEN CUTTLEFISH! How did this even get here? You think it might still be alive, so you leave it in a block of ice when you captchalogue it. It might be useful. => You found the ANCIENT CHEST! The era of these frozen objects makes no sense at all. It appears to be locked with a combination lock. Look at some other mystery instead. __________________ 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.

05-03-2011, 03:44 AM	#63
Arcanum Strike the Earth! Join Date: Nov 2007 Location: Canada Posts: 3,185	> Look at some other mystery instead You are now Reztek, who unfortunately is not faced with a mystery and knows exactly what is in front of him. He has been thrown straight into the fire, missing the frying pan completely. In fact, there was no pan; only endless fire. That's how bad it is right now. > Reztek: Observe cruxite item In front of you an adult Troll is seated in a grand throne, all composed of blue cruxite. Still, despite the monochromatic features you recognize this particular troll. The Orchestrator described in eloquent detail that wild mane of hair, the long horns, and the mask of death painted on his face. Sitting before you is a replica of the Grand Highblood. > Reztek: Look down You look down and find a lute in your arms. An old court lute to be precise, with a wide, short, bent neck, and sixteen strings. Part of you prays the thing is tuned properly since it would take quite a while to bring all those strings into proper harmony. Well, at least everything is made of this blue cruxite stuff and can't actually do anything. Otherwise you would be terrified if that model of the Grand Highblood acted like the reaSCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! > Reztek: Look up You look back up at the Grand Highblood, who has just reached down beside his throne and withdrawn a large club. The entire ordeal sounded like glass being scraped with a jagged stone. It seems the cruxite can move. And it also seems like the Grand Highblood is displeased with your stalling and the lack of music. > Reztek: Quick! Play a song! You attempt to think of a suitable song but fail miserably. What could you possibly play for the Grand Highblood that would keep him from killing you? And on top of that it seems you are stuck with this lute, a deviously rare instrument that you have little to no practice with. And with each passing moment the Grand Highblood grows more impatient. > Reztek: Play the rainbow That doesn't even make any sense! > Reztek: IMPROVISE! Well you really only have three choices. Death by Highblood, death by meteor, or try to play something and hope you don't die. Well, here goes nothing. ========> You pluck a few tentative notes to get the feel for the instrument and the Highblood's grip on his club loosens fractionally, glad to see that you started playing. You attempt a few chords, one of which ends up sour but you are quick to rectify the mistake. With your confidence growing you proceed into the beginning of a ballad, thoughts spinning away as you attempt to plan and weave a web at the same time. The music starts soft and slow, though ever so slowly gaining speed as you become more familiar with the instrument and build towards the beginning of your song. The moment strikes you and you begin to sing. You weave a tale of a rebellion formed of all parts of the hemospectrum; Trolls uniting together to throw off the oppression of the Highbloods and the Empress. You sing of their efforts, their losses, and their victories. You can tell the Grand Highblood is displeased with the direction of this song, but that was your intention as you set the stage for the true story. A quick shift in position and fingering and the song takes a quicker, and yet more sombre, tone. The Highbloods have failed to crush the rebellion, and it is time for the Grand Highblood himself to see an end to it. Your song tells the story of his hunt, his game, his victory. He seeks out the pockets of rebels one by one and paints the walls with their blood. A rainbow road of death and despair follows in his wake as he purges the planet, his planet, of the rebellion. ========> You prepare to continue but a thought trickles into your mind unwelcomed. How long have I been playing? How much time until the meteor hits? Against your better judgement you try to glance towards the cruxtruder. As you turn your head your fingers slip and your song falls apart too quickly for you to piece it back together. Your gaze falls down to the lute, defeated, but is quickly drawn towards the Grand Highblood as he rises from his throne. A peculiar part of your mind wonders where the stone-on-glass sound went, and guesses that first noise was deliberately made. The Highblood approaches you slowly, club in hand, wearing the same mask of grim determination. > Reztek: Plead for your life You resist the urge to plead for your life. That is probably just what the Highblood wants; further humiliation before your death. No you will not give him the satisfaction. The Grand Highblood raises his club slowly, drawing the moment out. The club descends. A meteor strikes. ========>

05-03-2011, 11:19 PM	#64
Arcanum Strike the Earth! Join Date: Nov 2007 Location: Canada Posts: 3,185	========> You open your eyes and look around. Boxes piled high, game constructs strewn about, same old sub-basement; except with the notable lack of a cruxite Grand Highblood. It seems like you are still alive. > [S] Reztek: Ascend You emerge from the sub-basement and make your way to the front door. What lies beyond is a world unlike anything you�ve seen before. Your attention is first drawn to the sky, which looks like someone was haphazardly writing sheet music on the sky itself. There is no discernable order, and some lines curve into others or end abruptly or are simply cut off by other lines. Some just stop and are left blank for a while before starting anew. As your gaze drifts across the sky you begin to notice the rest of the landscape as well. Large pyramidal metronomes float in the sky, all ticking to their own individual rhythm and refusing to find harmony with any others. The persistent ticks of the metronomes are offset by a handful of tocks that make their presence known. Your eyes shift to ground level to discover scattered buildings, some tall skyscrapers, others squat cathedrals with domed roofs, but each and every one of them still resembling a clock of some sort. And between the buildings the landscape itself is shaped like various instruments. The road leading away from your Hive appears to be oversized piano keys, and you can make out similarly oddly shaped landscape in the distance. You can�t help but be amazed by all of it. And you can�t help but feel that you�re not alone. Welcome to the Land of Metronome and Song.

05-11-2011, 12:06 AM	#65
The SSB Intern We'll have to do this the hard way. Join Date: Feb 2005 Location: Behind it all. Posts: 1,009	For many years after the inhabitants were swept from its surface, the scorched planet was still berated by the howling wind. But even this died in time, the gusts quieted, yet still seethed. The Avenger's adversary stolen, it was reduced to a cursing murmur. Silence. But not peace. Never peace. > Vintag: Wake up. You are now Vintag and also conscious. Geez, this prophetic dreaming hooey is really starting to weird you out. > What prophetic dreams? You suddenly remember that you don't ever have prophetic dreams. You wonder why in the world you were even thinking about that. Well, you can't just stay in be-... on the floor of your common block pondering life's great mysteries. Time to rise and face the near eternal night! Oh wait, right, your lusus is dead. > Mourn. The world may be ending right in front of you, but, dammit, it wouldn't be right to just leave it like this. He was your lusus. ...Tears stream down your face, but no words come out. What do you say to the giant rodent thing that spent his life protecting you? > "Sorry." You remove yourself from the common block, and head back to your respite block. Your grubtop is on the floor, exactly where you left it before you ran out to go get scarred for whatever remains of your life. > Call your friends. They'll know what to do. You proceed to have a slew of conversations that have no real need to be revisited. Alas, it seems your lusus can also be revived. > Then that was a rather pointless expression of the troll involuntary bodily function known as "grieving". You don't even care. This the best thing you've heard since this nightmare started. You've got a feeling that nothing bad will happen ever again, ever. > Let's skip ahead a bit shall we? Reztek is about to die and his kernelsprite won't sit still and face his prototyping like a real alien concentration of pure creative energy! You even have one of Reztek's drums to contain and personally chauffeur it to it's lusus destination, but it just keeps darting around the hive like a buffoon. Despite this, you manage to herd the kernelsprite close to the entrance. It's cornered, desperate. You leap at the chance and drive your drum/cup down on it, hard. It shatters against the wall. You look around and find your prey outside. Apparently it can phase through walls. BB: O>o yes run run to your destiny little one STOP BB: O>o and if you ever come back STOP BB: O>o ILL KILL YOU STOP You impotently type the above while chucking the first heavy, spiky, dead thing you can get your cursor on. That'll show 'em. Now to find Shelly. >...Skip some more. After much hurried item deployment, the alchemiter has made... no. It can't be. Extending from one of the now endless dark corners of your hive's ceiling, a taut rope travels across most of the common block. It stops at a length from you and slides through a metal hoop and downward. Your eyes follow it to its end, a cartoonishly large inertia-inversing... forge... Gog fuck it, it's an anvil. Underneath this malicious slab of steel, there is a large pink target symbol painted on your new rug. Inside this target, there is hysterical dame with long spindly limbs. And inside this hysterical dame is a voice that could shatter 5 inch plexiglass. You were warmly introduced to this fact when the two of you locked eyes and she released a sonic wave asking for assistance. > Who thinks up this shit? You did. This is the first routine you and Vicki ever built and attempted. Something tells you this one doesn't have a kill switch. You begin to walk over to the dame, ready to let loose a flurry of backhands, when a meteor rips your southern wall from its home. The rope whips out of place and the anvil plummets. You dash heroically, but slip on a banana peel that you swear must be a construct of the test, honest. Without the time to right yourself, you make do with a sweet, potassium-rich slide and snatch the dame from sure destruction. Then you notice the path ahead is full of very likely destruction. The hysterical dame screams. >DODGE Weaving in and out from the various bowling balls, dumbbells, and anchors, you remember that you have very little time before you become a funny little troll pancake. Obviously, you have no time to waste to crash into something and then writhe in pain afterward. So how do you get yourself out of this pickle? You swing by the nutritional cryostorage unit and pick up the w magnet. You fiddle with your new mustache ponderously while HD provides more static feedback. > A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES You hear the echoic rumblings before you see it stagger into view. Ah. The washing machine appears to block your path once again. Its load is unbalanced and the only thing that will relieve its vengeful spirit is to see your crumpled remains at its feet. Or someone to turn it off. Regardless of how much you trollsonify this dead jumble of mechanics, you don't want to deal with it now. With a snappy turn, you continue your journey back down the poorly lit hallway. There's even more deathly gags and props thrown around here. They race by you, only giving the slightest tease at where they will be. You swear to every pagan space god you know that if you live, this crap is going into a fire. You also should take care of that yeti that you are fairly certain lives here. > Retreat to your respite block. No good. This whole side is on fire. HD blows out one of your ear drums. You double back around, yet inexplicably continue sliding. The hazards seem to present a more real threat now. You hit a dozen of them, and bounce off the walls. You still can't seem to stop though, and you feel sick to your stomach now. Everything seems to be falling down around you. This might be related to your hive falling down around you. >WASHING MACHINE ROUND 2 Nope, it sputtered out in the middle of the room. Rest easy, fella. I will carry this burden for you. Speaking of which, HD must be putting on some weight or something cuz- > oh jegus what is that Suddenly, screaming sounds like a very sound plan. You thrash about, removing yourself from the two abhorrent creatures' grip. The strange hall beast jumps away while you and HD keep sliding. And then you stop. Thank Gog. > ...Hey, uh, you might want to look around. Why's that? It's just more of that meteor shower outside that you're trying to save yourself from. > ... ...Oh. Gravity suddenly remembers that it exists and you watch as the hole that used to be your south wall ascends into the heavens. Strangely, even with the wind pounding on the back of your skull, you can still hear that piercing wail. You glance over to the dame, not the least bit hoarse. You sincerely wish you could just die with some peace and dignity. There's gotta be some way... > Vintag. to shut that damn mouth of hers.. > Do it. Your hand reaches out and claws into her shoulder. > It's the only way. "Here's looking at you grub." > Kiss the girl. ...You hate yourself and everything. [S] > Enter __________________ You know who never sleeps? My gun.

05-13-2011, 01:29 PM	#66
Flarecobra Burn. Join Date: Dec 2003 Location: Classified Posts: 11,017	========> You are now Prion. >Be someone else. No. You have a task. Your server, Glissa, quickly set up all the gear needed, and explained what was needed to enter the Medium. She also highly suggested that you got yourself armed for what was to come. >Check outside. Everything looked normal, but the water tempeture has started to rise. And from you can figure out from other sources, meteors have been hitting the planet causing a large number of fires across the world, and the oceans are starting to feel the effects as well, starting to boil in some places. While she was setting up, you took the precausions of stocking up on some provisions, namely some fish and the cut-up lusus corpse. There wasn't too much loose that was heavy enough to drop on the Cruxtruder, but a combonation of a large chunk of coral and a solid punch helped release the sprite. Also, punching it kind of hurt. > Ok, enough exposition. Get to prototyping! Taking some advice from Glissa, you take the head of your late lusus and prepare to throw it into the sprite, but just as you toss it, a fish swims in and runs into the sprite, and in a flash of light, is absorbed by it! Just as well, you kind of missed with the head anyway. > See what fishsprite has to say. Fishsprite: Insert gibberish here Prion: ... You just grab the sprite and shove in the head. Congrats, you have have... Bonesharksprite! >Great, now about the cruxite. You pick up the iris-colored chunk of cruxite and the pre-punched card, noticing that there looked to be a tank of some kind on the card, and that the cruxite was the same color as your blood, you make up a totem, then swam outside to the alchomizer. Once there, you discover that it produiced 5 rather poorly-made nets, a tank, and a fish inside the tank. >Eat fish. You try to grab it, but it gets away at the last moment. Several times. It's a slippery bugger. >Use nets. You pick up the nets and examine them. They're fairly weak, and from you know from the fishertroll that you've Strifed with before in the past, you know that a fish like that can possabily rip them.... but maybe if you double-up on the nets... Taking 4 of the nets, you double-up on them, then proceed to herd the fish to a corner. There is a glow from above... a large meteor is coming. Even if it doesn't obliterate you right away, the heat it's generating can be enough to flash-cook you. You've got to hurry! >Corner fish. Claim victory. You corner the fish with one pair of nets, then as it tries to swim up to escape it, you use the other pair to trap it, completely encircling it in netting and lifting it out of the tank. There is a flash of light as you do so. Piron:Entry. [s] Large, glittering coral reefs and atolls made of ruby, jade, and so on form much of the area. Islands with dazzling, multi colored sand appear from place to place. Under the water, a deep abyss can be seen that stretches unfathomable levels. The abyss seems to be letting off a large cloud of inky darkness that is slowly spreadinjg across the water. Trees with stone-like fruits are also present. LAND OF GEMS AND REEFS __________________ "Only the fool wishes to go into battle to beat someone for the satisfaction of beating someone." -A Thousand Sons Rules. Read them, know them, love them.

04-27-2011, 05:14 PM	#61
Aldurin Lakitu Join Date: Feb 2010 Posts: 4,648	>Be someone less clueless. You succeed so hard you actually manage to be Herpey. Death continues to feast within the distant craters, but you know that he won't stay there forever. The situation would probably hilarious from an outside perspective, but right now you have to live through it. Given the chatlogs that you've monitored from your personal terminal and the meteors approaching outside, it looks like shit is going to crash down on you all at once and your only hope will be him. You really wish you picked a different troll to raise, anyone but Aldurin. Other dysfunctions would have been more tolerable than inducing apocalypses for mere games. And he probably still believes that the deaths of the wards for the other psychotic juveniles were coincidence, merely bad luck at an inconvenient time. But you can't rule that out, you can't risk letting your guard down in the case that some arcane force truly is orchestrating your unsuspecting death. You turn away from your personal terminal for the mainframe, one of the few pieces of work that kid has done right, and get back to work on your project. The energy rifle you're building should be versatile enough for skirmishes with whatever might come in and try to kill you, should it ever come to that. You carefully wire in the power core . . . and you won't stop feeling this urge to cross the circuit connections. The resulting overload would detonate the rifle and surely kill you, and you begin to feel a sick feeling of dread as you're expertise attempts to turn against you. You quickly force the wiring into the correct positions and push the rifle away from you. Your heart pounding, you finally realize that death is out to find you, and this time it's becoming more resourceful. You begin to assess possible escape options, since staying with Aldurin is now more dangerous than ever. You doubt you could escape the blast radius in time, but staying on the mountain long enough to go wherever Aldurin is supposed to end up may work. As much as you don't like it, you're going to have to assist that irresponsible troll in his survival. Then you should have time to seek out sanctuary from mortality. >Wait, what?

05-30-2011, 01:33 AM	#67
Bard The 5th LW Feelin' Super! Join Date: May 2009 Posts: 4,191	>Vintag: Enter All noise ceases. As the cloud like shield that saved you from the meteors washes away, so does all color. A dim light pervades the gray landscape, and the wind is even silent as it breezes through the alleyways. There is a faint grainy effect that occasionally dances across the eyes as well. A view outside reveals a depressing landscape. Far below the building your hive rest upon, an urban wasteland lies. Badly paved roads lead to nowhere in a world of gray stone. The KERNELSPRITE hatches behind you. The two halves reach to both DERSE and PROSPIT. A rustling is heard behind, or at least it would if this place had noise. Two rodent-like CONCRETE IMPS with scythes and claws approach from behind. Their teeth are razor sharp like a sharks. They slowly descend from behind you. You should totally turn around. In any case, welcome to the Land of Monochrome and Hush. ========> Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. In contrast to the HERALD'S location, the Hero of Time is surrounded by constant sound of clocks and metronomes. In the midst of the overload of sound, it may be very easy to miss a few sights, like cold pair of white eyes on a dark face staring at you from the window before moving away. It also made it rather difficult to hear other factors in the environment, like a pair of wings flapping at a quick rate. From below the platform of your hive flies a CHINA BASKILISK. The beige colored creature flies with a pair of ragged wings. It bore a bizzare, quizzical pattern of green spots that were reminiscent of a question hook. Its eyes were bug-like and reflected many different surfaces. Its mouth smiling wide, it quickened the pace of its wings and made a mad dive for you. ========> The HUNTER is also met with opposition almost immediately upon entering her sparkling world of gems and water. From several sides approach three ZIRCONIUM IMPS. Bearing thick shells across their backs, and skulls shaped like spades, they approached. With scythes and feline claws they reached out in attempts to make quick and fleeting strike upon her. Moving in and out there attacks were oddly coordinated. One of them even wielded a fallen Alternian SLAUGHTERFISH as a spiky club. >Leraje: prepare for a boss fight Best hope the MAGE OF HEART prepared during his time offscreen, because there was little time now. Amidst the small SHALE IMPS that were scattering around his suspended hive, and shrill scream filled the air. "SCHRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Yeah it sounded sorta like that. The air surrounding grew cold and breathing became difficult. A putrid smell began to fill the air and the imps began to egress in large groups. The screeching carried on as whisps of black smoke moved upwards, revealing a TAR BANSHEE. The almost translucent monster bore the scythes of the mantis, fins of the shark, and its hands had the talons of a vulture. Its face was long and contorted a hood hiding most of its ghastly face. Draped across its shadowy and stretched form were chains, not unlike Leraje's own. These linked chains echoed as the beast circled Leraje's hive, screaming all the way. In its search for the mage, it hovered directly through walls and windows. Its claws were bared and its voice was blaring. Show him what you're made of Highb100d! >Glissa and Nasryl: Enter already. Ughhhh maybe later.

06-06-2011, 04:02 PM	#68
Flarecobra Burn. Join Date: Dec 2003 Location: Classified Posts: 11,017	========> Explore! You're Piron, and curiousity has gotten the better of you, and you are looking around, checking out the new surroundings. The water is far shallower then you're used to, at it's deepest it's about 50 feet deep. You stop for a moment to check out some of the unusal crystal growths when something at the surface catches your eye. It was fairly short yet sinewious, with what appeared to be shark fins on it's back. Swimming around as low as you can go, you prepare for attack. > Strife? You blast up out of the water, claws at the ready and sucessfully scare the poor imp stiff. You stab down with your claws into it's iridecent body, and sucessfully pin it down. Pulling one of your arms back, you drive the claws into it's head, while dropping down to bite it's shoulder. It didn't taste good and appeared to be made of a soft crystalline material.. and that was all you got before the Imp disappeared under you. Taking a moment to wonder what happoned, a couple of splashes make you look up to see a trio of Imps approching, and they don't look happy to see you. Rolling back into a crouch, both to get into a position for a lunge, and to put a bit of distance between you and them, you make ready for a Strife. __________________ "Only the fool wishes to go into battle to beat someone for the satisfaction of beating someone." -A Thousand Sons Rules. Read them, know them, love them.

06-11-2011, 12:41 AM	#70
Overcast Cinderella Join Date: Mar 2005 Location: Trespassing in the graveyard Posts: 3,076	>Nommingsprite: CONSUME GORRMA. You are not Nommingsprite. You are not a sprite at all! You are that strange little troll with the mechanized shipwall that you've recently fused with your lusus. >Huh? You are Leraje. >Oh, alright wasn't he getting attacked? You cover your ears in annoyance staring over your shoulder, a light cough pushing from your chest as the putrid air contaminated your squeedilyspooch or whatever it is you weird aliens breathed with. Your lususprite hovered over your shoulder, still fresh off of his hug addiction and greater than or equal to as annoyed as you were with EVERYTHING. Yet with this at least he could resist that sickening urge to hug and spoke to you with clear intentions. Code: Seymoursprite: Are you just going to let that thing breath our air or are you going to make me kill it? Leraje: I'm on...it. Seymoursprite: Good. Seymoursprite followed behind you, as you pulled a long chain from your strife deck, wrapping it around one hand and spinning a length at the other. You stared around for the creature, not really understanding what alien culture had invented the mythology that the name of the monster was based on. Nor about how its wailing around the house was supposed to signal your death. You weren't concerned about your death. As long as Seymour was on your side you were sure you could take anything this world could throw at you. You were about to find out if that was true. >Leraje: STRIFE! You saw it swinging around the corner screaming all the while, you tried not to breathe, your eyes watering just a bit as you threw one end of the chair toward it. Trying to catch the damn thing around the neck and shut it up for a minute. __________________ Time to bust out the glow sticks!