[Haha, yes. Half-swording and thunder striking, oh my! I can't say I'm particularly knowledgeable, but I know a few things. Blame my love of fantasy that spilled over into a love of old arms and armory. 'Course, it's made playing some games take on a bit of unintended humor and speculation after looking at their weapons and armor. Studded leather and ten pound swords have become a bit of a punchline to me.
Also, thirty one turns! Can yah believe it? Still weirds me out that I'm running a game.]
Mini-turn![Commercial District]Freddie knew an opportunity when he saw one, and something that looks changed by whatever was going on but able to talk was most certainly one!
"Excuse me, Mr. Asimov, but where does your latest market research come from, if I may ask? Personal observation or trustworthy external sources?"
The bemouthed apparition looked at him like one would eye a high-quality steak in a butchers shop, not like any kind of low-quality synthmeat, no siree, real. All of his visible mouths grinned at the question, and a mouth on the back of his right hand opened and replied.
"Why, it comes from both, quality stock. I've observed the users for a month now, although back then was before I realized what I was truly doing: understanding the shift. I'd notice more and more, more and more of them come out and make their demands. Of course, I didn't realize it at the time, but seven cycles of time spent on thinking and reviewing helped me understand. I really must thank Forrest for that, my propensity was to leave of all things!"
Briefcase looked sick and distraught at the last comment. He visibly moved behind the group to gain distance between himself and Asimov.
Meanwhile, Boss flashed five digits and the group nodded collectively, huddling together a bit away and talking silently to themselves.
"No. Smash him."
"Lunk, I don' know what yah mean."
"Smash him, his core."
"Core? Whatcha mean?"
"As for sources, what can be more trustworthy than the users themselves? Can't you hear their demanding calls outside? They practically plead for what they want! If only the old users were so sensible, always with their shifting wants and ironies. But such is the way of the market, isn't it? The manager also had a delightful talk with me, helping me understand. Shame he isn't around anymore, I'm sure he'd be interested in prime quality such as yourselves. There's a scarcity going on, after all."
"AI have cores. Smash cores, smash AI. Kept in back rooms."
"Oh, right, you were a sof--"
"Software Engineer."
"Yeah, yeah. Man, why don't we get you hacking security again?"
"Entirely different."
"Never know til yah try."
Frogdo, seeing the holo decidedly occupied with Freddie's question, launched a psychological assault on the thing, stepping right up to him despite his appearance.
"Yo, Asimov dude-guy-chum-pal! Ya ain' nothin' but a nothin'! An' a nothin' in a nothin' tha be nothin' an' trippin' all over its nothin' an' unexis-tentional-ism."
"Pardon?"
"Lemmie slow dat down fer yah. Yah. Ain'. Real. Bro."
Freddie couldn't help but wonder if this kind of thing would work. It didn't seem very likely.
"I don't follow."
"Yer ah nothin'! Yah don' exist, jus' a fig-i-ment!"
To try and prove his point, Frogdo waved his mace around in in Asimov's chest, unhindered.
"That's--"
Frogdo then waved his mace inside his face and head.
"--would you sto--"
Now Frogdo is somehow waving his mace inside his entire body, tracing from his legs to his arms to his head, chest, then back again to his legs. Asimov's eyebrows were noticeably twitching, when they weren't being obscured by a mace being run through them.
"--that's quite enou--"
More waving.
"ENOUGH!"
The holo shouted, and in a blink was a few feet away from Frogdo. The humming outside paused for a few seconds, resuming, but the result was different than before. Agitated, almost. Asimov didn't seem in a much better way than the voices either, his mouths taking on a variety of scowling, gnashing of teeth, and billowing out more of the faux ashy substance.
"Enough! Enough waiting. I tire of this. There are quotas to keep. You will be nothing but a empty husk!" The man jabbed his left hand at Frogdo, which snapped at him. "But perhaps there is hope that some of you will become enlightened." His right hand rose into the air, poised to snap.
Forrest's eyes grew wide, looking above Asimov. "He's about to activate the alarm..." He mumbled vaguely, obviously still in shock.
!!LOGIC!! (Frogdo): [1]
Harvey reasoned that if he was going to go back, may as well make it more interesting for himself. After all, he did almost die there. Well, okay, maybe not him but Samuel almost died, so there's that.
"Well I wasn't planning to head back that way any time soon given the first time nearly got me killed, but throw in a small block of metal so I can finish up my rifle and you've got a deal."
The quartermaster sighed, reclining in his chair.
"Told yah before that we're low as is on material, Sarge wouldn't approve if I were to hand it out all willy-nilly like." Beard paused for a moment, thinking on something.
"But... Suppose I forget I'm not always dealing with Enforcers now a days, and we need those prints if we want to stay armed. Between you and me, no one besides the enforcers stationed by the portals have full mags. Utterly disgraceful, before this I made damn sure everyone was topped off with the best I could give them. Long story short, you got a deal. I'll just say it got used for parts and wasn't cataloged."
The man dug around and tossed a small chunk of the raw materials to Harvey, along with the cube memory stick, the survivor catching both the semi-malleable synthmetal and the cube.
"Dunno if that would cover a rifle, but it's what I can spare without it getting me odd looks."
]"BZT BZT BZT BZT BZ--"
Stupid alarm.
Marion groggily woke to a new day, laying comfortably in her bed. She heard the busy hum from outside her window, rays of light trying to stream in but only finding gaps between the curtains. Another day in the city, eh?
The rest of the apartment was quiet, she could hear that much from her room, but that didn't come to any real surprise, considering she's only sharing the apartment with her daughter. It's the weekend after all, and what student wakes up bright and early when they don't have to?
From the looks of it she has a message for her on her phone, but really, its the weekend and she did just wake up. Plenty of time to deal with work later.
TOCK--"Ey, come on, wake up. Can't have you sleeping in public spaces."
Grmbl. TOCK. The enforcer knocked his baton against the bench again, waiting for Randall to rise. Right, yeah. He hadn't managed to get back to his 'home' before night, and crashed on a bench.
Light shone down on the two, the Enforcer looking down on Randall with a bored look and his baton held lazily in his hand. Out in the distance people were heading off to whatever it was that they did, people in suits, casual, strange outfits, and anywhere in between really. Probably work, maybe something else.
"Sorry bud, but we got ordinances and we all gotta follow them. You know the rules."
Well, bright side is that he wasn't bugging you for having stolen something. This time, at least. Getting your bearings, you're still about a good half an hour away from your 'home,' less if you booked it. But you don't exactly have food there at the moment.
************
Name: Freddie Firenzo
Gender: Male
Attribute: Inspiration (1)
Short Description: a somewhat small man, balding, wears glasses and possesses a pencil mustache. Covers up encroaching baldness with a clearly stolen trilby and hides rather unimposing physique behind a somewhat oversized pastel blue tuxedo.
Short Biography: despite the rather dire nature of the situation, Freddie is quite glad, all in all, that whatever happened happened. He was in the middle of contemplating suicide when the sirens came, trying to decide upon a good method to carry out a deed. However, evacuation put a stop to that kind of thinking, and Freddie rather appreciates the circumstances due to this. Why, he could make off with an entire tuxedo and hat in the chaos, and nobody noticed. For him, this whole apocalypse thing is kind of a definite improvement, really. Certainly an opportunity to reinvent himself, find some sort of track to get his life onto at last.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club,
Metal Spike,
Cracked Headlight,
7 Dual-Torches,
Oil Canister,
Lighter,
Credit Unions,
2 Rations,
Memory Stick
Name: Frogdo Badtirigidon
Gender: Male
Attribute: IRONMAN (0)
Short Description: He's a short dude with curly brown hair, spiky stubble, and heterochromatic eyes - blue and brown.
Short Bio: Maaaaaan, he was a dude who came from the streets, maaaaan, and he was angry and resentful and stuff, maaaaan. He's a survivor because he, like, KNOWS da streetz, maaaaan.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
Metal Club Name: Randall Steward
Gender: Male
Attribute: Intimidation (0)
Short Description: a short and filthy dark-haired individual. His back is always slightly bended fowards, which gives him the impression of being a hunchback. Actually, he stays like that to remain unseen.
Short Biography: Randall's parents abandoned him when he was but a a kid. He survived in the streets pretty much as a rat, stealing food and hiding. Treated by everybody as scum, he never found a way to integrate into society and kept living with low standards.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives,
Rubber Glove,
5 Rations,
Meat Clever Name: Inspector Marion Dupont
Gender: Female
Short Bio/Description: A tall, commanding woman, previously an investigator in Ship Enforcement. After the warning sirens she moved in an orderly fashion to the nearest bunker. Her goals are: A. Find out if her daughter is safe. B. Get to the bottom of what's going on.
Attribute: Hammerer (1)
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Rations,
Lighter,
Handcuffs,
Family Photo,
Sharp Machete,
Metal Club,
Heavy Work Gloves,
Sledge,
Duct Tape,
Small Prybar,
Box of Nails Name: Harvey
Gender: Male
Attribute: Hammerer (0)
Description: Fairly tall with a lean but muscled body, long black hair and bright blue eyes.
Background: Winging it.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives,
Recorder,
Revolver,
2 Speed Loaders,
Rifle Scope,
Rifle Mag,
2 Rifle Rounds,
Ration,
Credit Unions,
Car Parts,
Small Fab Cube Name: Samuel Allworthy
Gender: Male
Attribute: Inspiration (0)
Short Description: A tall formally dressed man with a conductor's baton
Short Biography: An orchestra conductor who managed to get to the shelter on the way to a concert.
Inventory: AFU,
Comm,
HUD,
2 Knives Wounds: Busted Right Arm
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: Survival At Its Finest: Waking Up From Sleep Mode (Q&A) (Read 58275 times)