Bay 12 Games Forum

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  
Pages: 1 ... 115 116 [117] 118 119 ... 161

Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 248734 times)

TopHat

  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1740 on: October 28, 2016, 02:30:12 pm »

That went a lot better than expected.
Keep running a bit further, then stop and Measure this zone of silence.
Logged
I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Xantalos

  • Bay Watcher
  • Your Friendly Salvation
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1741 on: October 28, 2016, 05:19:43 pm »

Oops.

Quickly, before they get away! Sharpen my mind with my anger and murder their legs away!
Logged
Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

Toaster

  • Bay Watcher
  • Appliance
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1742 on: October 28, 2016, 08:56:21 pm »

Interesting reverberations they've set up.  Setting up the acoustics must have taken quite some planning.

Ditch the branch and head back to the north.

A nagging feeling bothered Thomas for a moment; he thought this might not be the last he had seen of these two.
Logged
HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

AoshimaMichio

  • Bay Watcher
  • Space Accountant
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1743 on: October 29, 2016, 02:02:28 am »

"Me? I, my friend, am just an outsider who got dragged into this mess against my will. Pretty sure I'll be that exotic pilgrim soon, I'm very far away from home and I don't know the way back. Name's Leif Erikson, by the way, miner by profession and explorer of far away lands by blood. Pleased to meet you!" I say with a wide smile and offer my hand.
Logged
I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1744 on: October 29, 2016, 08:20:52 am »

Okay, so physics have clearly been thrown further out the window than usual. There's no reason to assume I'm about to go into free fall. I try to see if I can control my descent in any way, aiming to gently guide myself towards a bright spot, though maybe not a blindingly bright one. I wave my hands around a bunch because hey, they just started glowing.
Logged

Harry Baldman

  • Bay Watcher
  • What do I care for your suffering?
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1745 on: October 29, 2016, 07:30:37 pm »

That went a lot better than expected.
Keep running a bit further, then stop and Measure this zone of silence.

You run a short distance more and when you're reasonably positive that Mr. Daniels is quite a distance out of immediate range you decide to unveil the measure!

[The Revelation That Isn't: 6]

And boy does it seem to like whatever this supernatural silence is, yawning open and letting loose its great invisible tongues, lapping it up all around you, and you feel an immense sense of relief as the air grows noisy and quasi-natural once again, an expanding sphere of refuge and normality forming around you as the measure gets a maximally representative sample!

You look at the measure as it snaps shut after a short while, not having taken all of the silence around, but definitely having raised the noise levels a considerable amount, and it vibrates meaningfully for a moment as it seems to indicate it's almost done processing, but then goes silent and still. Then it starts up, then stops again, seemingly having a little trouble giving you a precise estimate of exactly how long this latest measuring might take.

[The 5,000 Fingers of Jack Daniels: 6 vs. 6]

In all this excitement and anticipation, however, you completely neglect to pay attention to Mr. Daniels' whereabouts right up until the moment when congealed murder comes knocking at your poor kneecaps like a spot of arthritis, and the wormy fellow himself is undulating once again at a distance where he can effectively menace you.

Oops.

Quickly, before they get away! Sharpen my mind with my anger and murder their legs away!

[Hot Pursuit: 5]

Were Mr. Wilde to do the wise thing and just keep running until he is well out of sight and even more out of reach, you would absolutely never have caught up to him, you're fairly sure.

Fortunately for you, he gets distracted by science instead! Which actually manages to eat much of the silence you so carelessly generated, much to your delight as you prepare to give him a most instructive evisceration.

[The 5,000 Fingers of Jack Daniels: 6 vs. 6]

Bastard's a bit too quick, however. Or maybe he just spots you - point is, he jumps out of the way, and you are robbed of the sweet satisfaction of ruining his kneecaps something fierce. Bit of a shame, you did do a pretty good job with that thought-lob. Exquisite form!

Interesting reverberations they've set up.  Setting up the acoustics must have taken quite some planning.

Ditch the branch and head back to the north.

A nagging feeling bothered Thomas for a moment; he thought this might not be the last he had seen of these two.

The show appears to have drawn to a close, and the silence is dropping as well, so you go on ahead and start walking off.

[Skies Are Darkening: 2]

Of course, it does seem to be getting slowly darker. Might not be the best of times to travel on foot, but perhaps you can make some progress before the day ends. You head on along the northern road, jumping over large rifts in the landscape every now and then caused by the earthquakes, passing a rather large crater a few miles out that seems to be giving off something of an unhealthy white glow. You think you might be entering the outback now. You do hope that airport's not too far.

[Dogs Are Barking: 2]

Your pause to admire the beauty of the not quite natural Australian landscape does make you take notice of the fact that somebody is following you. And not just any somebody - it's the good doctor herself, albeit her usual wild-eyed look seems to be replaced with a more confused, listless expression as she holds on to the sheet she's wearing, looking very troubled by something. Noticing you finally look her way, she furrows her brow, beginning to say something.

[The Earth Dies Screaming: 6]

It probably wasn't all that important, you reflect as suddenly the nearby crater explodes with extreme violence that leaves a very persistent, loud ringing in your ears for the next minute or so. Luckily, it's mostly focused directly upward, so you don't quite explode along with it, though it does take you handily off your feet. On the other hand, the dust kicked up by this sudden uptick in volcanic activity does roll down in great sparkling gouts that sting your eyes with strange images of butterflies fighting, which understandably makes it very difficult to see anything or, for that matter, breathe, not that you're at all sure you'd want to be breathing any of this anyway.

"Me? I, my friend, am just an outsider who got dragged into this mess against my will. Pretty sure I'll be that exotic pilgrim soon, I'm very far away from home and I don't know the way back. Name's Leif Erikson, by the way, miner by profession and explorer of far away lands by blood. Pleased to meet you!" I say with a wide smile and offer my hand.

Likewise, she says and shakes your hand, returning the smile. She is Rose, eldest of three, wise woman's apprentice.

But enough about her! Would you like to come into the camp proper? Sleeping upon that oak does not seem overly comfortable. Especially for your companion - do you suppose she would mind if they tucked her in? She's heard the Moth Clan are a somewhat cagey lot.

Okay, so physics have clearly been thrown further out the window than usual. There's no reason to assume I'm about to go into free fall. I try to see if I can control my descent in any way, aiming to gently guide myself towards a bright spot, though maybe not a blindingly bright one. I wave my hands around a bunch because hey, they just started glowing.

Your height is a much more literal form of potential energy here than you would typically assume, and from said height a great many states to occupy are very much open to you. Most of them look the same, granted. You think you'll pick...

[Points of Light: 1]

That one looks rather good, yes! You decide to fall toward that one. Seems vaguely promising in a strange kind of way. Your fall is rapid and luminous as you wave your arms around leaving streaks and afterimages in your wake as the raw power of several dozen explosions (now that you think about it, you did get pretty carried away back there).

You fall and fall, but the point doesn't grow any clearer. If anything, what you're seeing just gets more confusing. Buzzing, noisy. It reminds you of something briefly, and then you suddenly hit it, all hell spontaneously breaking loose as you feel as if you've been dropped into water that is simultaneously scalding and freezing - this lasts a split second at best before all the energy stored within you releases upon you hitting actual air and conventional physics. The sky in particular is a very refreshing sight as you hurtle toward it like a literal rocket, a prodigious amount of reaction mass burning off as you spontaneously regain a semblance of your original shape and form.

The next thing you see is a landscape that looks a bit unfamiliar at first, only to resolve into the disappointingly well-known shape of the island upon which Anglefork Castle rests. Or used to rest - you're pretty sure that's the island, but man, that castle looks absolutely fucked. As does the nearby Anglefork Town. And even the nearby woods. What the hell happened here?

Well, you guess you have plenty of time to think about it, being about a mile up from the ground, hurtling down at what feels like terminal velocity.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
Logged

Xantalos

  • Bay Watcher
  • Your Friendly Salvation
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1746 on: October 29, 2016, 07:34:34 pm »

"STAND STILL YOU FUCK"

MURDER REND

to be specific, murder them with REND


((This has kinda escalated just a bit out of hand, I think.))
« Last Edit: October 30, 2016, 01:47:47 am by Xantalos »
Logged
Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1747 on: October 29, 2016, 09:27:03 pm »

Well. I ended up in free fall anyway.

I see where I'm going to land. Hopefully it's the river. If it's not, I throw an explosive cyst in the opposite direction from the river to propel myself towards it.
Logged

Toaster

  • Bay Watcher
  • Appliance
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1748 on: October 29, 2016, 11:37:50 pm »

This is the sort of thing that venues get sued over.  Do they have personal injury insurance?

Take cover.  Ride out this downfall somewhere safe.
Logged
HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

TopHat

  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1749 on: October 30, 2016, 12:06:47 pm »

"Nately, remind me not to save his life again if there's a next time."

Repeat the REVELATION-grab Nately-run thing that worked so well last time. Just don't stop running this time.
Logged
I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

TheBiggerFish

  • Bay Watcher
  • Somewhere around here.
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1750 on: October 30, 2016, 12:16:14 pm »

Logged
Sigtext

It has been determined that Trump is an average unladen swallow travelling northbound at his maximum sustainable speed of -3 Obama-cubits per second in the middle of a class 3 hurricane.

AoshimaMichio

  • Bay Watcher
  • Space Accountant
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1751 on: October 30, 2016, 01:56:00 pm »

"Oh, absolutely! I haven't been blessed with good sleeping spots lately, you know? A hole in ground, out under stars, prison... Dunno about how she would feel about it, but she's exceptionally tired. Having a proper place to sleep would probably do good for her."

Let's accept the invitation. Carefully princess carry Lee in, assuming she doesn't put up resistance.
Logged
I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

Harry Baldman

  • Bay Watcher
  • What do I care for your suffering?
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1752 on: October 31, 2016, 06:16:45 am »

"STAND STILL YOU FUCK"

MURDER REND

to be specific, murder them with REND


((This has kinda escalated just a bit out of hand, I think.))

You are beginning to suspect fighting Words with Words is perhaps not the way forward as Mr. Wilde invariably tries to block your own efforts.

REND REVELATION

[Words: 5+3]

Your Word comes as a great cleave, an extension of your murder-thought as it widens and sweeps with a force mere will could not hope to manage, and Mr. Wilde raises his arms and shouts in defense. The Words meet with a powerful clash, and your swipe is almost deflected - almost. You nearly let off a cheer as he catches the sawing blade of your Word straight in his face even as it is enriched with his very own light and magic. It tears into his skull with a horrific grinding sound, leaving through the top right of his head, hot glowing chunks of gore spinning out of it more like cinders than actual bits of flesh. As he drops Nately and falls to the ground, facing away from you, you see his face begin to shed an unnatural light, the origin of which you do not yet see. Disappointingly, however, this has not at all put the man down.

What has occurred, however, is that the blade just seems to have kept on going, twinkling above the horizon briefly before it explodes in a flash, two prongs of it shaping into a single bright arc reminiscent of a rainbow as they strike the ground on both sides. Staring at it as you can't help but do, you get the strange feeling that it seems to be... opening somehow.

Well. I ended up in free fall anyway.

I see where I'm going to land. Hopefully it's the river. If it's not, I throw an explosive cyst in the opposite direction from the river to propel myself towards it.

[I Can See For Miles And Miles: 1]

Well, let's see. The ground beneath you is covered in billowing surges of luminous dust from where you seem to have exploded a good portion of the landscape in your dramatic entry. So it's somewhat hard to tell what might be below. One thing is clear, however - you probably don't want to land where you came from, and considering that your upward flight is only slightly set off by wind, you think you'll do an explosion or two to propel yourself anyway.

[Powered By Explosions: 5]

This does give you a moment's pause. You're fairly sure grenade jumping shouldn't actually work in whatever semblance of real life this is. But then, this is no ordinary grenade. You generate the cyst with a spreading tingle, and cook it for a good couple of seconds, timing the explosion ideally as you let it blow you rather efficiently in a certain direction - now, said direction is also quite random, although vaguely in the direction of the river that you can see in the distance.

As the explosion in the sky rocks your bones and sends you careening through the air, mostly unharmed apart from the rather terrible shock, you briefly note a sudden appearance of a star not too far from the horizon. And it is at about this point when you impact the water.

[Come In, The Water's Fine: 2]

Fun fact - hitting water at this velocity is roughly comparable to hitting solid concrete. And though you do not see a goddamn thing as you disappear into the choking, burning dust, you definitely become intimately familiar with the sensation of bones breaking, skin lacerating and virtually all of your organs getting very close to each other and mingling. You bounce off the surface of the water before sinking beneath the waves with a splash, leaving a trail of blood and loose bits as you float to the shore slowly, quietly lamenting the way all journeys must come to an end.

This is the sort of thing that venues get sued over.  Do they have personal injury insurance?

Take cover.  Ride out this downfall somewhere safe.

[The Hole You're In: 1]

You scramble for cover, but you effectively operating blindly has about the effect you would expect - first you trip over the good doctor, who seems to have lain down, pressed her face into the ground and covered her ears, then you tumble on, rise briefly to your feet and proceed to trip over a piece of debris, smack face-first into the shredded remains of a tree and fall onto a gentle slope, which you roll down, landing into something that feels a lot like you'd expect liquid helium to feel, in that it is not at all as ruinous to your good health as plunging into actual liquid helium, but roughly as incredibly weird to feel on your skin as it crawls on you, moves to envelop you. You begin to gently sink into it as a buzzing that reminds you strangely of Mr. Munderly fills your ears and a tingling spreads over your skin, also a sensation you've come to associate with Mr. Munderly over decades of experience.

"Nately, remind me not to save his life again if there's a next time."

Repeat the REVELATION-grab Nately-run thing that worked so well last time. Just don't stop running this time.

Where he has a Word for you, you have a Word in return. The same one, unfortunately. It's a little inconvenient to have only one.

REND REVELATION

[Words: 5+3]

As a hypersonic cleave tears toward you, your own Word meets it uncomfortably close to you, deflecting it, but not entirely.

[Extraordinary Dodge: 1]

You have no time to react - the saw blade of revelation strikes you squarely in the face, carving into the bridge of your nose, tearing into your skull, ripping out a gaping hole in your face as you spin to absorb it - it comes out the top right of your head, unseating one of your eyes. And what the other sees as you topple to the ground and lose your grip on Nately is something else.

You feel your face slowly cave in on itself, and you see light shedding on the ground from a head wound you are sure would be fatal if not for your own remarkable physiology. Pieces of your skull glow softly as they dance out of your head, obeying strange laws of motion as you stumble away, your head growing asymmetrical as the rift continues to shift and deepen.

You scramble to your feet, a horrific itch spreading to your skull. It's getting difficult to see as the brilliance of your wound is starting to hurt your one working eye. But even so you feel compelled to look up - and there you see the arc of a rainbow, blinding white to the point where it makes the rest of the sky look black. It reminds you of a mouth. It seems to be slowly opening.

"Oh, absolutely! I haven't been blessed with good sleeping spots lately, you know? A hole in ground, out under stars, prison... Dunno about how she would feel about it, but she's exceptionally tired. Having a proper place to sleep would probably do good for her."

Let's accept the invitation. Carefully princess carry Lee in, assuming she doesn't put up resistance.

[Sleeping Beauty: 4]

You pick up Lee - she shuffles a little, but seems to be sleeping a little too deeply to be awakened by this. You carry her gently where Rose leads you, ushering you through the dark clanfolk encampment. You pass shadows every now and then, and take note of their silhouettes - endlessly varied, but uniformly lumpy and not-quite-human. You see a bit of eyeshine as they glance your way curiously before Rose gestures something at them, mentioning that you're a guest. You weave along the various tents and eventually she goes into one, with you following behind.

It's only a little brighter in here than in the encampment proper, a small steel lantern with an even smaller glowing ember in it shedding a bare minimum of light on the surroundings, enough to let you see a rather large figure sleeping wrapped head to toe on one end, and two smaller individuals laying intertwined a slight distance away. There is another bit of bedding prepared already slightly off to the side, and Rose wastes no time in rolling out an extra bedroll that she fetches from a wicker basket lying at the foot of the large individual.

This is her tent, she signs to you as she gently prepares the fourth spot. Over there is her father, she nods at the large sleeper, and the two over there are her aunt and mother, she indicates the two others. They'll like you, she's sure. And your friend too! Just lay her down over here, she discreetly signs toward the bedroll, so this is what you do, laying Lee to rest and covering her as she stirs only slightly.

Rose puts her hands together as you stand up after putting Lee to bed. What would you like to do now? Should she show you around? Have you any questions? Perhaps you'd like a smoke? She's not had hers tonight yet, now that she mentions it.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: October 31, 2016, 06:08:51 pm by Harry Baldman »
Logged

AoshimaMichio

  • Bay Watcher
  • Space Accountant
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1753 on: October 31, 2016, 07:07:23 am »

"I don't smoke, but if you have alcoholic beverages around I truly would like to taste some of those. Tell me about your clan. You folks do not seem to be exactly avarage human."

If no alcohol is available, then I make some on my own. If any questions raise about it, then it is officially the only minder trick I have learned.
Logged
I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1754 on: October 31, 2016, 07:49:05 am »

I get ashore, collapse, and then rest there for a bit.

Man, I never thought I'd be relieved to be back here.
Logged
Pages: 1 ... 115 116 [117] 118 119 ... 161