Ao Shi
"Say, could you guide me to heart of this thing or to outside, which ever is closer? And maybe dull my sense of pain?"
Be guided to somewhere. Not interested of fighting yet. If no guidance is provided then poke and bash eyes of those things with whatever implement that does the job best.
1c
"Theoretically. The core and exits are sort of everywhere and nowhere at the same time. This place both exists and doesn't, allowing rules to be bent to a degree. Pain, later maybe. That's reserved for more experienced people, since it's really tricky and I'll have to put up with Mal shouting at me if do it without permission. Her lack of capitalization is really grating."You follow Red's directions and race out into the corridors. The meat demons charge after you in hot pursuit. Somewhere during all this Red relocated and is now sitting on the left shoulder of the demon closest to you.
[COMP: 5/4] You summon forth the image of a mighty (if a grotesque, hunched figure that looks like it should be in Notre Dame ringing its little bell could be described as such) gargoyle which promptly dissolves disappointingly.
"... I completely forgot about those. Well, it's too late now anyway."
Wave at one of the cameras. Throw one of my ladles at the thing I summoned. Take it if nothing happens.
Let's just take the easy option and go into the high-end fashion store and get some clothes. If no clothes found, attempt to get into the independ Screw that, let's take the ballsy option and try to get inside the outdoor one. If no easy way in found, throw what I summoned at the windows (and close to one of the monoliths). If nothing happens, use "12".
If I manage to get in, going to take a closer look at what I can get from this place. That means clothes and the survival kits.
After waving to the camera, you hurl a ladle, striking the object and doing a whole load of nothing. Seeing as it is apparently inert, you retrieve the ladle and the odd device.
Strangely, there are no easy ways that can circumvent the expensive and meticulously set security measures which render their existences utterly meaningless. How strange, if reality had a developer, you'd be criticizing them for their poor level design.
So instead, you try breaking the window with the summoned item. Because as everyone knows, in the absence of bricks, grim implements of dark magic are perfectly acceptable substitutes. Throwing it with seemingly practiced grace, you send it hurling towards the window, doing no appreciable damage save for a few cracks at the point of impact. Huh.
Well, time for Plan B: calling upon the power of black magic to assist in committing petty theft.
[COMP: 4] Satan has forsaken you.
You are one stupid name away from becoming a supervillain.
May I suggest "The Ladlemonger"?
While his first instinct is to pick up the ammo, Winston decides what the heck, he'll go for the toaster. Grabbing it, he headed for the doors.
Get toaster. Take doors between ramps.
Toaster acquired. You continuing running, taking the lower path. The doors begin swing open when you are a good few meters away, having apparently been designed with supernaturally fast, vertically-ascending Japanese Gameshow contestants like yourself in mind. Which, depending on your political views may be a welcome sign of a more inclusive, tolerant society towards people such as yourself who occassionally find themselves in a situation where they need to run up trains. Or, yet another case of politically correct bullshit that panders towards increasingly minor minorities. Politics is hard.
Beyond the door, the carriage interior isn't actually too different, the only real difference is that, due to the lower height, the arches are flatter, with lanterns fixed to the walls. Gone are the benches, in their place are more substantial furnishings, inward facing chairs separated from one another by the lanterns and the tables beneath them. A single door lies at the end of the carriage. However, there is something between the door and you.
Three quarters of the carriage's length away and walking with its back to you is another figure in archaic garbs, the back of it's bare skull visible. It wears an elaborate, elongated fedora, presumably because in Victorian England, fedora-shaming had not been invented yet. Brandished in its gauntleted hands is a battle-scarred, though still clearly functional baton. A small skeletal fiend scampers energetically across its body, an array of sturdy, elongated arms grasping onto an icy-blue buckler that seems to be shrouded with a faint shimmering.
"Now what? I really don't know."
To handler: "... no."
A shame. A real shame. Wish you two dismantled that autoframe back then as well.
Still, I suppose it would be disingenuous to be disappointed by the prospect of more work.
At the very least, you've shown you're good at running away without dying.
((You have 3 free external statpoints and 3 free internal statpoints to allocate!))"..." He took a brief glance over the railing. What can I see of the troops, are they armed? Do they appear hostile? If they don't appear hostile, slowly stand up with my hands up and shout, "What's going on!?" If they do appear hostile, remain quiet, keep my head down, and watch them very carefully. "...I think.. Hm.. Going to try something. I'd recommend you stay out of sight but, y'know, your choice."
The troops, well, they're all on their way out with your fellow colleagues at gunpoint. In fact, most are through the door already. Their armaments, unsurprisingly considering the habits of the System League. Some hold unremarkable assault rifles, others weapons of strange and peculiar construction. One of them was even carrying a shield and longsword. Not too sure if you still want to shout at them, but, judging by how noisy they are, they probably won't notice you either way.
kay
After a while, the hostages return. Shaken, but mostly fine, your colleagues gather outside, delivering varying conversations and verdicts to one another regarding their mutual ordeals. You soon see some more, recent, arrivals. A large number of troops in gray splotchy uniforms walk into the cafeteria. Mixed among them are medics and combat engineers. The medics set up in the cafeteria below, and begin looking over the various minor injuries, whilst the combat engineers quickly disperse, judging by their tools, they're here to inspect the structural damage throughout the complex.
u can haz moar points nao
((You have 3 free external statpoints and 3 free internal statpoints to allocate!))Lead Ropey (working title) around the market, see if I cant find some form of energy source compatible with my weapon. Ask the relevant vendor what kind of items they may wish to trade for, or if they have any errands they need run.
Also keep an eye out for any open, empty tents I can duck into if I need to make some items to barter with, without raising suspicion.
Lets play a little game called Economy Meets Magic
The first vendor can't identify the adapter so you move on. The second vendor, who has their items laid upon a large table covered with a black cloth and comments that your horse may actually valuable enough to get something that could be used for your gun and points you to a third one who may have that something.
This third vendor appraises your horse with a look of disinterest.
"What do you want?"You show them the source adapter.
"I could get something that works ~approximately but, ehhh... this horse... It's nice horse but ehh, I don't need a horse. Not even a rope horse. No I don't need any errands run, I don't have errands, I have jobs. And I doubt you could handle them, especially for what you want."-snip-
You are standing in your small, cheap apartment, a place for sleeping eating and not much else. A place is so cheap that instead of a bunker for shelter, it has steel plates that simply barricade the windows and front entrance, this "security" is about as secure as a tissue-paper prison in a rainstorm, you know of several cheap tricks to get around the locks on the lower doors, and the roof if you wanted to get to the grocery store by base jumping.
You are near the center of Floor 2, where the bulk of your fellow civilians are, now that war has touched the colony. Not that, everyone's elsewhere either. This after all, is where the majority of the population live normally anyway, so there actually wasn't that much relocation that was needed. Still, with a literal storm above, and unknown forces rampaging below, the atmosphere here isn't exactly relaxed.
Pressing as such matters are, they are probably the least of your concerns right now. It all started with that silver box, and the black tablet within it. It said something about selecting a network, and, for whatever reason, you chose 'TZINACAN'. Before you knew it, the tablet broke, and you received an electrical shock for your troubles. If only it had ended then.
Evidently, it did not. If it did, you wouldn't be standing here, staring at the motes of dust illuminated by your desk lamp. There's no real pattern. You know that. The dust had been scattered through the air by so many variables it's practically random. Yet, in spite of that, you almost certain you see something. As the dust moves restlessly, it wavers, but it always returns. You see it. In the dust. A feminine form covered in furs, with a feline head upon one shoulder, their head is obscured by a mass of intertwined branches that form a wooden hood.
And, now, at this very moment, it vanishes. The image returning back to mere dust. Yet, you still see. You still hear. You see letters formed by the uneven textures of the wallpaper. With each passing glance, spelling out a message. It doesn't matter where you look. Looking at the bookshelf, you cannot help but to be fixated at certain words in the titles. Looking at the bed, the ridges of folded sheets form the vaguest outlines of letters. Closing your eyes does little. You hear whispers in the duet between the ticking of the wind and your own breath. Background noise seems to cry out to you, twisted yet coherent words coming to life.
And soon enough, they synchronize, a symphony of apophenia.
Just to be clear, you aren't going crazy. Probably.
I am here to act as an assistant of sorts. Someone who can uncover the truths that others may have tried to bury.
Or I'm just a figment of your imagination that just happens to speak in a way that makes you doubt your own insanity.
Whatever gets you through the day.
Anyway, you have magic now. No, I cannot tell you how to use it properly - something is messing with my messages.
You can also run along walls, deflect bullets and use weapons you are absolutely not qualified to use.
Author
Topic: Perplexicon - Down the Foxhole - Raining Mecha (Read 167988 times)