Sanya DegyatrevYou pick up the pillow. Your pistol is underneath it, where you always keep it. You check the magazine and find it fully loaded just like always. You have seven rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. You approach the door and work up the nerve to open it. It swings outward to reveal what looks to be the vacuum of space, and you can even see stars twinkling in the distance. You see a bowl of cereal float past. You hear a voice say: "Water isn't wet." The door slams closed and you're left to your own thoughts as to what the fuck that was all about.
Female Mutant
Status: Confused. Bad headache.
Equipment: Blue Cargo Pants, Pink Sweater, Fuzzy Slippers [+1 to Adorable], Soft Pink Pillow, M1911 [8/7]
Abilities: Flight [2 Turn Duration; 1 Turn Cooldown]
[3] You flip the desk directly at the lizard, forcing him to stop aiming at you in order to deflect it. Unfortunately, the opposite end of said desk caught you in the chin when you tossed it. You spit a gob of blood and one of your front teeth onto ground and go for your pistol. [5] You snatch it up easily and plant a shot between the scaly bastard's eyes, whipping his head backwards and down and smashing it open against the steel deck.
Male Aristocrat
Status: Bleeding tongue. Missing tooth.
Equipment: Dress Suit, Top Hat, Ebony Cane-Sword (stuck), Kinetic Pistol
Abilities: Well-Dressed (Passive) [+1 to Charisma]
You swing your mammoth thighbone up and smack the waiter across the face. He reels backwards, his drinks spilling across the floor and the glasses themselves shattering. The patrons surge backwards as the fluids sizzle and start to burn into the ground, but you take off towards what looks to be the way out before anything else has a chance to happen. You burst out of the lobby and into the street. Street cars roll by and a few pedestrians slow to comment on your "get up."
Male Caveman
Status: Healthy. Still terrified.
Equipment: Bearskin Loincloth, Mammoth Thighbone
Abilities: Can Make Fire [Requires Flammable Material and a Feasible Catalyst]
You tuck a chest-sized piece of shell under your arm and brush the sand off a few largish hunks of crab meat before stuffing them into the pockets of your duster and wandering into the jungle. You trudge through the undergrowth for a few miles and stop to rest. You notice one of the many palm trees has a hole in it. An odd stench wafts from within.
Male Cyborg
Status: Scratched face.
Equipment: Black Synthetic Duster, Two Plasma Arm Cannons, Energy Blade, Poker Chips, Ace of Hearts, Large Crab Shell, Pieces of Crab Meat
Abilities: Cyborg (Passive) [+1 Endurance, +1 Agility, +1 Intelligence]
Author
Topic: Anomaly Deathmatch (Read 3767 times)