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Voting closed: April 07, 2013, 10:34:35 am


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Author Topic: Einsteinian Roulette On ship Thread: Maurice's One Night Stand  (Read 5728264 times)

piecewise

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10350 on: November 17, 2012, 07:49:20 pm »

Yeah, refill it, the cutting torch, and get whatever needs to be repaired, repaired.
Done and done.

((Auto them in like you sometimes.))
Remeber life in Zanpor on Callisto.

I will soon. But I want to give them time to prepare if needed. I'll give them another hour or so.

Also no idea about that place so...

kisame12794

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10351 on: November 17, 2012, 07:50:14 pm »

"Right. I'll take a large golden heptagon with a diagonal line."

Order mystery container.

((Forget Schrodingers Cat, we have Nyars Box.))
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The non-assholes vastly outnumber the assholes but the assholes can fart with greater volume.
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IronyOwl

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10352 on: November 17, 2012, 07:51:18 pm »

((Almost. Just lemme check on my bet. :P))

"Well, would you accept a wager on myself not dying, permanently or otherwise? I guess permanently would kind of be cheating since if I lose, uh..."

Ask.


((By the way, PW, how come you never play any other forum games? Nothing catch your eye?))
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Quote from: Radio Controlled (Discord)
A hand, a hand, my kingdom for a hot hand!
The kitchenette mold free, you move on to the pantry. it's nasty in there. The bacon is grazing on the lettuce. The ham is having an illicit affair with the prime rib, The potatoes see all, know all. A rat in boxer shorts smoking a foul smelling cigar is banging on a cabinet shouting about rent money.

Parsely

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10353 on: November 17, 2012, 07:54:14 pm »

Fix. Ask around and see if anyone knows where he went.
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PyroDesu

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10354 on: November 17, 2012, 08:00:40 pm »

Finish putting the armor on. and attempt to fix the laser rifle and generator.

((Too cruel, man.))
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Quote from: syvarris
Pyro is probably some experimental government R&D AI.

IronyOwl

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10355 on: November 17, 2012, 08:02:35 pm »

((Actually, I'm not going to be available for the next hour.))

To the pod!
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Quote from: Radio Controlled (Discord)
A hand, a hand, my kingdom for a hot hand!
The kitchenette mold free, you move on to the pantry. it's nasty in there. The bacon is grazing on the lettuce. The ham is having an illicit affair with the prime rib, The potatoes see all, know all. A rat in boxer shorts smoking a foul smelling cigar is banging on a cabinet shouting about rent money.

SeriousConcentrate

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10356 on: November 17, 2012, 08:15:27 pm »

(Tiruin's in the Philippines, so Feyri's not likely to have an action before the mission starts. Maybe you could let the far timezone guys retroactively buy stuff?)
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SerCon Shorts: This Is How You Do It - Twenty-three one minute or less videos of random stupidity in AC:U, Bloodborne, DS2:SotFS, Salt & Sanctuary, and The Witcher 3.

Toaster

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10357 on: November 17, 2012, 08:46:08 pm »

((He shouldn't be too long in getting on, per his posting stats.))
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
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SeriousConcentrate

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10358 on: November 17, 2012, 09:01:18 pm »

(I was just using him as an example because I know where he lives. I think Yoink, too, is on the mission, and he lives overseas. ^^^;)
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SerCon Shorts: This Is How You Do It - Twenty-three one minute or less videos of random stupidity in AC:U, Bloodborne, DS2:SotFS, Salt & Sanctuary, and The Witcher 3.

Yoink

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10359 on: November 17, 2012, 10:49:11 pm »

((Aw sheeit. I was drunk and slept in. :P Catching up now, rush rush.))
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Booze is Life for Yoink

To deprive him of Drink is to steal divinity from God.
you need to reconsider your life
If there's any cause worth dying for, it's memes.

Spinal_Taper

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10360 on: November 17, 2012, 10:50:21 pm »

((Aw sheeit. I was drunk and slept in. :P Catching up now, rush rush.))
((Just like Final Boss. 'Art', if one could call it that, imitates life.))
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Yoink

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10361 on: November 17, 2012, 11:01:28 pm »

Jobasio ran a hand through his hair, neatening it up somewhat in an absent motion.
'I'm on the mission. Lovely. Just... Lovely.' He glanced down at the rifle he held. Suddenly it didn't seem quite so amazing. Being mildly superstitious around machines, courtesy of his years working with them in a factory, he whispered to it as he hurried along, "You do alright by me, and I shall treat you well. Like a king among gauss rifles. This is to be a mutually beneficial relationship, you kill the things that try to kill me, and I keep you maintained, oiled etcetera."

He went silent and patted the thing on the stock as he neared the briefing room. 'Time to meet the "team", I suppose. This should be entertaining, if nothing else.'

>To the briefing room!

>Once there, do a quick glance over my teammates. Request a repeat of the briefing, and whilst listening to it note down some basic info on each member of the team on my datapad.


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Booze is Life for Yoink

To deprive him of Drink is to steal divinity from God.
you need to reconsider your life
If there's any cause worth dying for, it's memes.

piecewise

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10362 on: November 17, 2012, 11:04:25 pm »

"Right. I'll take a large golden heptagon with a diagonal line."

Order mystery container.

((Forget Schrodingers Cat, we have Nyars Box.))
He hands you a box with some difficulty.

((Almost. Just lemme check on my bet. :P))

"Well, would you accept a wager on myself not dying, permanently or otherwise? I guess permanently would kind of be cheating since if I lose, uh..."

Ask.


((By the way, PW, how come you never play any other forum games? Nothing catch your eye?))
(Oh, I'm busy enough building worlds here to be happy.)

>Wager on yourself not dying? Hmm. No, because they you can influence it unduly.

(use pm to work out a bet, we're starting)

Fix. Ask around and see if anyone knows where he went.
[handi:2]
You yell at them to self assemble. They do not

"He's in the back, working" a nurse advises you."

Finish putting the armor on. and attempt to fix the laser rifle and generator.

((Too cruel, man.))
You put the glove of your armor on. It clicks into place with an electrical hum. You jump when you hear something clatter on the ground and look down to see the broken laser rifle. You reach down to pick it up and your hand passes right through it. You look at your hand, blink, and then try and pick it up again. It comes up like normal.

Thats odd.

((Actually, I'm not going to be available for the next hour.))

To the pod!
good enough.

(Tiruin's in the Philippines, so Feyri's not likely to have an action before the mission starts. Maybe you could let the far timezone guys retroactively buy stuff?)
Yeah, we can go retroactive if we need to, but she has no money so whatever.




>Yoink

Just assume your character knows it.







The away team, massive at 20 people, filters into the pods one by one, closing their lids and slipping into the dark and dreamless sleep of stasis. They wake seemingly only moments after falling asleep, dumped cold and shivering onto the floor, covered in goo. They struggle up, grab their gear, cough the fluid from their lungs and head for the shuttles.  A brand new battle suit, slimmer then the ones most the crew had seen before and packing two rockets on the back that look more like someone strapped ICBM's to the thing with a dozen smaller maneuvering rockets over the rest of the suit.  Miyamoto can't help but smile a bit as he straps himself into the cockpit and the machine closes up, encircling him in a solid cocoon of high tech armor and systems.

Miyamoto gets himself strapped on a lifter shuttle while the rest of the crew boards 3 standard shuttles and together the entire flotilla lifts off and vanishes into the dark of space as the hanger closes behind them.


They drift through space for a long while. Quiet. Some listen to music in their helmets, some tap feet. One couple holds hands. Quiet. Gravity comes in slowly as they descend, blind in their shuttles. Until they land. They dawn helmets and and grab rifles from under chairs and wall racks before walking out onto the cold, blinding and desolate gray soil of a dead planet. The gravity is lower then 1 g, but not terribly so and foot steps are light as the team moves across the dusty surface, Miyamoto unclamping and thudding silently to the ground before following after.

They wander toward a the only landmark around them, a large, metallic facility perched on the horizon. Not far from the facility lies a semicircle of large ships. They're swollen, bulky, made for passengers, not fighting. Their doors are closed, but what look like modified APC's, stripped of armor, designed to carry more at the expense of protecting, sit around the base of the ships. In the center of the semi-circle is a different ship, smaller, thinner. A first responder ship, a living quarters wrapped around a rocket with enough thrust to get it up to jump speed. A man in a long coat is standing outside it. His longcoat is partially covering a spacesuit; not the gray mass production type of the HMRC, but the light armored black and silver of a UWM military man. He directs the team into the ship, motioning Miyamoto and his massive suit to stay outside.

They follow the man through the ship and into a small communications room, clearly not made to house 20 men, let alone giant lukas robots and Milno rocket pods. The man steps in after everyone else and turns on the screen as he begins talking.

"You were told you were here to back us up. This is untrue. You are here to do a job and then we are here to clean up afterwards."

The screen activates, spilling out text and information.

"The buildings you saw were the upper level of a colony. It is self sufficient and for the most part was self governing with very little UWM oversight. Approximately 3 months ago it's citizens began to fall ill. At time of last transmission 60% of the populace was dead and open riots had broken out. The government asked us for assistance. That was two weeks ago."

The screen goes dead for a moment before showing a map

"This is the first level. The map is not to scale. You and your teammates will clear this level of any hostiles, subdue any non-combatants and confirm the area is safe before me and my men enter. From there you will do the same on each level, in each sector all the way down. One of the Personnel Carriers you saw earlier will always be nearby. Place all noncombatants in it. When full tell the driver to return to the surface and it will unload it's cargo into one of the carrier ships before returning to you."

He pauses for a moment.

"We do not know what you will find down there. We do not know the levels of hostility you can expect. Do not let down your guard. If someone tries to fight or to run, you are authorized to use any force you deem necessary."

"There are 20 of you so break up into 4 teams of five each. Elect a leader for each team. When that is done I will assign each team a name and then we may begin in earnest."

piecewise

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10363 on: November 17, 2012, 11:07:07 pm »

Everyone on mission, get your various asses to the mission thread

kisame12794

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Re: Einsteinian Roulette: Death count from Cursed Tournament: 4
« Reply #10364 on: November 17, 2012, 11:11:38 pm »

"Reveal your secrets box!"

Open ye box.

((Hrmmm. Dead world, colonists getting killed, army gets called. Yup, sounds like Aliens. Watch the walls people.))
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The non-assholes vastly outnumber the assholes but the assholes can fart with greater volume.
((You're an arm and a torso in low orbit. This was the best possible resolution of things.))
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