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U.D.S. : Before

+2
tfkfan1342
doomedNeophyte
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Post by tlo Mon Oct 13, 2014 10:25 pm

You are now somebody else. Seriously, why can't you be happy with one person for more than twenty seconds?

> Zealon: Writhe about like a deranged worm and bite holes in your desk.


You do the first bit, but your jaws just aren't strong enough to bite through the wood of your desk!

> Engage in STRIFE with your dead Lusus.


You go up to your dead lusus, and do the little animation that means you're ready for battle, but your lusus is... Still dead.

> SEPULCHRITUDE


You have absolutely no idea what that means. At all. But, you try to 'SEPULCHRITUDE' anyhow.

> Nothing: Happen


Nothing happens.

> Zealon: Realize you really have nothing to do right now.


What? That's ridiculous. Zealon always has something to do.

> Do something productive.


Zealon sighs, and admits he has nothing to do. Your viruses have reported that the session has already been started by the highblood-killer and immoral human. You oftentimes know so much, but never utilize this knowledge. You're just too scatterbrained and crazy to know how to implement it until the time is right.

> Black King to D6. Check and Mate.

Zealon hears these words, but does not understand. He opens up a message to himself on Pesterchum.

[MM]: What doeS This meaN?

> It means, due to my lock-step time communication to you, this is the exact moment that the Black King puts the white in checkmate, and steals his scepter, thus initiating the Reckoning.

[MM]: buT, What doeS That meaN?

> Look out your window.

You look out your window, and see Armageddon on your doorstep. The sky was orange, and Alternia was in terror. And who was to blame, but the other side's faction?

There were not just meteors in the sky. No, there were more than that. There were nuclear weapons.



The world has half an hour before the first bomb hits the other half of the planet. And thirty-one minutes until the first meteor.


Guess what? You can stop neither.

> Zealon. Open your Memo.

Spoiler:
tlo
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Post by BurdenKing Tue Oct 14, 2014 1:54 pm

==> [GT]Respond to the Green Blood

You decide it would be prudent to reply to your friend, having waited long enough for him to reply.

Chat Log:

==>Bring in the boss

You read over the human girls messages, and chuckle at her antics, though her serious comment son the importance of the game got you thinking. Was this game really connected to the inevitable? Would playing it bring on the end of days for your people? And if not, was it in anyway connected to the obvious destructive objects falling from the sky?

You ponder on this for awhile, then shrug. It's not like you were gonna live much longer anyways, so might as well just get back at society a little bit more then you have already. And hell, if you get to have some fun doing it where's the downside?

Whole Chat log:

==> Enough flirty not flirty banter, start up the game!

Fine jeez, it's not like you're in much of a hurry. You begin opening the server, and start it up, connecting to the client account of your boss while you client sent out a ready signal to anyone ready to take control of it, since all the game were the exact same file just copied it should be easy to find him with one of the server programs.

You look over the room of your emplyer, and nod a bit, looking her up and down with some form of being impressed. She didn't look half bad, and that money pile she was in really worked to her figure's advantage. of course, money was always something you desired, so that might have been it.

Whole Chat log:

You begin moving your curser around the room, not really phased to much by the game's apparent invasion of privacy, since it let you see how the other half lived. And they lived pretty well from what you could see.

You bang a bit on your worm dads body, signalling him to stop his advance where you knew there'd be a stable internet conenction. You would need it it seems for the game ahead.
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Post by duelingThoughts Tue Oct 14, 2014 2:46 pm

EDIT: (OOC: The posting order is abolished for those of us who are in the midst of connecting, such as me and BK which is pivotal for the stories progression. So, those of you who are not yet connected, don't worry, just exclude me and BK from the order, as we complete our part. Once I'm on the planet, I will be bringing the next person in, so naturally BK would be reintroduced into the order. Just to be clear, that means from now on until we're all in, there will always be two people out of order. If you have any questions just ask Glag, or the OOC group thread.)


==>

Whole Chat log:

==> BB: Be the Player

You attempt to be the player with resounding success! Not like you had much choice anyway, but it was a success for you nonetheless! You begin to grin broadly at the thought of someone peering in on you, and your legs shift slightly as your pile is mentioned in conversation. A grab a wad of the stuff and sprinkle it over yourself playfully.

==> Get off your sweet heavenly ass

Realizing that the game may possibly require you to be mobile, you stand up from your pile and let the green leaflets fall to the floor as you trail over to hang upon your bodyguardess. You stroke a finger down its face to its shoulder, and peer at its mechanical bodice. It was a picture perfect rendition of yourself... only golden, and mechanical, but not the least bit cold, from the warm humming of a miniaturized nuclear fusion reactor. You ceased your stroking to feel its "heart beat". How you loved the thing so.

==> Stop fawning over yourself, for christs sakes! Do you want to be nuclear ash?!

Fine fine! You remove yourself from your mechanical counterpart and peer about your room. It was massive, and palace like. Your bed was more like an oversized THRONE, only meant for laying down in. The roof of the room was like the stain glass of a grand cathedral... if they had skylights. Your WINDOW alone was the size of a garage door way... only twice its height, leading to a balcony the size of an average persons lawn. Your room was very tidy, save for the money pile in the corner of your room that served as a THEATER, of which there were many artifacts associated with acting. Between the distance that was your THEATER and your THR- you mean your bed, was a grand transportalizer, that lead to other floors of your massive family mansion. Being directly opposite of the WINDOW, your back was turned to a lab station full of EXPERIMENTAL DRUGS. Mostly research for trollian/human mind control, but no one is interested in that so you quickly pull curtains over the "closet" opening.

Oh yeah, all the different sections of your room, could be closed like that, with curtains. In essence then your room was a giant "x", with a giant transportalizer in the center filling the gap between the four quadrants. The WINDOW before you showed a lovely view of an Alternian Ocean, off of the cliff by which your mansion was built upon. Surely any troll would be in august at the awesome size of your marble room, which required the support of half a dozen PILLARS. You had no idea how the size of your mansion would affect the game, but you had good feelings it was going to be even more awesome!

==> Be someone with a substantially less awesome and privileged life, undoubtedly about to be turned into nuclear ash due to all the time Hera probably wasted at observing her own room.
duelingThoughts
duelingThoughts
Lodestar Youth

Virgo Posts : 399
Boondollars : 19188
Join date : 2014-09-07
Age : 26
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Post by tfkfan1342 Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:56 pm

==>Aconoi start completely reliable alliance

Chat Log:

==>You are getting a message from yourself.

FutureFerociousProtector has begun trolling CurrentFerociousProtector

FFP: OK LISTEN TO ME!!!
FFP: YOU CAN'T TRUST!!!
FFP: CRAP SORRY YOU CAN'T TRUST
FFP: DSLGKNDSVOPDSLJKG
FFP: LDKVN{OSDILKFGJDS
CFP: WHAT the HELL!


==>Become suspicious of someone

Of course you are already suspicious of someone.  That deviant moonstruckMountebank must have attacked you and you were assuring yourself that you shouldn't trust him.  

==>Find out what to do next moron.

You decide to ask what you are supposed to do after the file has finished downloading.  

==>Check the memo

You decide to pose the question on the memo.

Memo:
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Post by BurdenKing Wed Oct 15, 2014 2:13 am

==> Ayyate: Begin serving

You begin to do your job as a server player, looking over your options in the Sgrub/burb game window to familiarize yourself with everything.

After a while, you accidentally drop a massive device, called a cruxtruder in the menu, next to the golden statue, knocking it over so it tilted and leaned on the device itself. You flinch a bit as the almost destruction you caused, but moved on, not noticing the timer on the device begin it's count down.

Whole Chat log:

You then begin to place more objects, placing them where you think they'll do fine. However, this does end up doing one small thing. The alchemitzer device thing was very big, and couldn't fit anywhere else.....you dropped it on top of Hera's throne bed thing. Maybe she won't notice?

You decide to throw money from the money pile on it to maybe camouflage the damage. You then continue to place objects around the room where you could find room, humming to yourself as you did so.
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Post by duelingThoughts Wed Oct 15, 2014 3:23 pm

==> Quickly grasp the opportunity to fondle yourself!

...er...

... save your robot your mean!

Your server player just laid down a huge load of stuff down onto your floor carelessly, making a mess of the place. The huge thing that nearly knocked your golden statue over, was of a peculiar design, but you were seething too deeply at the blatant disregard for social conduct. These trolls were barbarians! Even the good ones that did what you said made a mess of things!

In a situation of on coming nuclear armageddon surely no human would act so rudely, you reason with yourself. As you think on this, very thoroughly and methodically you dust off your golden chassis, and in your distraction pay no notice to the sudden destruction of your THRONE. You exclaim one of several frustrations to your server player on this matter, as you snap out of your golden teases grip and realize the ruckus that had been caused.

==> Be all indignant like

It's super effective!

Whole Chat log:

==>
duelingThoughts
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Post by BurdenKing Wed Oct 15, 2014 4:41 pm

=>> Continue Servering

Whole Chat log:

After messaging you client, you begin moving your view window around the room, looking for anything interesting, while also looking over you console for any hint on what to do.
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Post by tlo Wed Oct 15, 2014 4:58 pm

> Be someone less pertinent to the plot.


You try to, you really do. But, you fail miserably.

> Zealon: Initiate divine retribution


Zealon cannot, and probably never will, initiate divine retribution. But, he can check up on how the session is going.

> Zealon: Check on your malware.


You check on the viruses strategically and automatically implanted into every item your trusty ^cake file implants into anything it guts. Your screen takes on that of goldenTracker's, the one who started the session. Apparently, he's been taking his own sweet time. This should take roughly three minutes, from what he was reading on the internet. Just drop something heavy one the Cruxtruder's cylinder part, and stuff something into the glowing orb that popped out.

> Sigh and tell them to hurry up.


Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

> Act less like a control freak.


Needless to say, you fail miserably.

> OK, be someone less like a control freak.
tlo
tlo
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Post by BurdenKing Thu Oct 16, 2014 12:26 pm

==> Get gud noob!
Wait what? you look around rapidly, that time sure you heard something, or someone, talking to you in a very odd way.

After rapidly looking around, you look to your computer and saw that a new memo opened with you and Hera dragged into it. Well, might as well see what's up.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

You then switch over to the chat log, wanting to make sure your employer didn't get her ass turned to ashe.

Whole Chat log:

As you wait for you employer to get her butt moving, you quickly begin having your worm dad begin making a chamber for when you would be served. As you waited you familiarized yourself with the functions of the server program, thinking they'ed be needed late ron.
BurdenKing
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Post by duelingThoughts Thu Oct 16, 2014 2:45 pm

==> Get your ass moving!

You read the logs, and memo simultaneously with your holographics system, as you finish up wasting time. If the game required all the players to be alive when entering, perhaps then she would be their source of doom... although it was likely that her fooling around would not be her specific sole reason to being the doom of the session. This was just one of many many many future "mistakes", that may or may not be tactically advantageous for her own survival, with the price being the survival of everyone else possibly. If not in this timeline, then perhaps an alternate one. Only time could tell, in more ways than one.

Spoiler:

==>

Ha, that was great! You'll have to remember that somehow, although technically you won't have to, you've already done it! At least now you know you have a future to look forward to, to make such a GREAT comment. Anyway, you figure it would probably rip a hole in your session or something if you got turned into ash before you could make that comment, so you quickly forget about that and continue talking to your faithfully serving employee.

Whole Chat log:

==> Hurry up

Okay okay! Mr. Bossy Narrator!

You proceed to hurry up, and direct your golden visage to smash open the top of the machine thing. You're golden robot quickly responds post haste, and jumps through the air ready to pound the thing like a mad guerilla. With perfect engineer precision it lands directly on top of the the thing, and smashes the green symbol thing on the top of the count down timer thing, which read as: 21:01. That's quite a bit of time wasted. Theoretically if you finished in the next minute, that means the rest of the players had around 33% less time than you had to get in. Oh well! You're too busy being blinded by the bouncing, bright pinkness of the machine. It then pops off and shoots out this weird pink orb thing.

==> Stick something in it!

Well... okay then. Chuck something into the weird orb thing. You shrug and order your robot to stick it in its nuclear chest. It reaches for it and immediately is sucked into it, causing it to prototype into:

Herabotsprite!

It's gold and pink glow washes over your idolizing face in wonder, as you appear to be very clearly secretly worshiping the godly creation. You are not aware of the implications of what you just did, but surely it won't be too bad for you!

==> Jeez! Quite idolizing and turn that wheel thing!

Really, with the bossiness! Anyway, you do as it says, and turn the wheel, which as a result EXTRUDES (1) CRUXITE DOWEL.

Now where was that other thing he mentioned? You question your server player hastily.

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':
duelingThoughts
duelingThoughts
Lodestar Youth

Virgo Posts : 399
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Join date : 2014-09-07
Age : 26
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Post by BurdenKing Thu Oct 16, 2014 7:46 pm

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':

==>Panic! GG, surrender at twenty!

....After you move on from that weird thought, you immediatly find where you put the card.

=>>> aH tHeRe yOu aRe......rIgHt oN tHeEdGeOfThErAiLiOhGoD!

You watch as the card you desperately need falls off the balcony railing and begins to drop like a stone for some reason. Thinking fast you have curser fly over to the card and grab it, letting out a sigh of relief as you drag it over and gently place the card in your employer's hands.

==>Inform employer of job well done

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':
BurdenKing
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Post by duelingThoughts Fri Oct 17, 2014 7:59 pm

==>Be informed of job well done

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':

You disregard the job well done, as your pre-punched card is immediately sylladexed (...sylladex-ed? Put into sylladex? Whatever...) into the PRICELESS category. Anything already in your inventory is considered worthless in comparison to the absolute importance of this item, pushing all items below it down a notch in value by virtue of existing within your snooty sylladex. This becomes a regrettable side effect when encountering items of extreme value, as some times if a sylladex category is full, it will naturally eject whatever is less valuable than what you have currently.

Luckily for you, the only things you lost were expensive. Unfortunately, you no longer have any room in your Priceless category, meaning if you encounter yet another item of a priceless value, it will likely eject more items. Though the value on this simple card seems ludicrous! It would be difficult to beat in a pricelessness-off... it is simply the best there is. This is undoubtedly because it has to do with your survival, which you value way above anything else in the world, material or otherwise. You are just too god damn pretty.

Oh... hey wait a second... what's that lying on the ground? Damn it... you forgot about the pink cylinder known as the CRUXITE DOWEL. You captchalogue that too, expecting your sylladex to freak out and eject more of your expensive items, that were gradually becoming what were formerly luxurious items. You find it odd that so much is being ejected, you did not remember filling it up so much; it isn't as if you were some foolish kid who went around messing with an ordinarily counterproductive inventory system. Who even did that?

It did partially of what was expected. It did eject expensive stuff... but neither object was moved into the Luxurious category. In fact, both items somehow managed to merge into a single card, doubling its priceless value; an odd concept that didn't really connect well. If its priceless, how could it be doubly priceless? That's like doubling infinity, which is an abstract representation of every number in the positive range, so doubling it would be redundant.

Whatever, you don't care.

==> Go to thing by the dresser!

You skip your way over the your dresser, with a mute HERABOTSPRITE following you with an unanimated look. It doesn't matter, you would still worship that lovely pink-golden glowing orb face. It seems to be trying desperately to communicate with you, but you can't make out anything its trying to say. So you kinda just tune it out, like you always do when a pretty thing is talking.

You look at the machine thing and notice two things immediately: it has a place for a card, and place to stick your dowel in while you put the card in. How conveniently thought out! After you stick this card thingy in, you'll figure out how to carve it afterwards. You weren't really good with knives or anything, but she would have to try since it was life or death! You hope it doesn't have to be too terribly detailed.

==> Deploy (1) PRE-PUNCHED CARD + (1) CRUXITE DOWEL on TOTEM LATHE!

What the hell is a totem lathe?

You decide you don't care, and just deploy your stuff.

The card sticks into the hole beautiful, while your cruxite peacefully rests in the rack thing thing present on the machine. This of course surprises the fuck out of you when you realize the machine did the carving after activating it. Happy to see there was less work for you to do, you captchalogue the TOTEM, and expectedly, your sylladex freaks out again. The value of the priceless section increased AGAIN, and now forced a majority of your formerly luxurious items, to be under labeled as merely expensive. Of course, expensive things jettison all over the place, seemingly exponentially increasing as the sheer PRICELESSNESS of the items you acquire. This is bothersome, but pretty unimportant. Your life was at stake after all.

==>

You contact your server player.

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':
duelingThoughts
duelingThoughts
Lodestar Youth

Virgo Posts : 399
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Join date : 2014-09-07
Age : 26
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Post by BurdenKing Sat Oct 18, 2014 1:27 pm

As you waited for Hera to complete her mission, you were setting up your temporary home. Worm dad had taken to sleeping in the artificial cavern, taking up half the cavern with his massive size. You made sure to create enough space so that all of the required game items would fit. Even making specified spots by making little grooves in the dirt, so the server player would place them right. While you never liked to admit it, your years of tunneling made you very particular on how things were placed. So, when you was done, you removed the husk top from your worm dad's carapace.

As you looked over the progress Hera was making, you fell back into a large pile of jewelery and gems, some of the trinkets half finished while others works of maginificent art in your opinion. As you fiddled with one you had been working on for months now, you replied to your Player.

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':

==> Be the Legislacerator

You fall into the mind of her most frightening High Legislacerator, the most renowned a frightening of all the Legislacerators that were running about the Alternian territories. While you could go on about yourself, which you would on any other day, today was not a day to warrant such a thing. Right now you had someone killing high bloods, important ones at that since they handled the border territories and were the ones who kept those damn humans from getting any ideas of expanding.

In five months, 3 times that many high bloods of various levels were murdered in the respitblocks, well more like with their Respitblocks when examining the wreckages of the murder scenes. However, you weren't called the High Legislacerator for nothing. You had quickly reduced the method of murder was through a large Lusus, Likely a giant tunneling horror one. This sort of Lusus made you think of the medium bloods, since such a Lusus was rare.

However, no medium blood could be found with a weak enough alibi or motive to commit such crimes. They were culled just in case due to procedure, and their Lusi vaporized, but that was just a precaution as you continued with the investigation. After months though, you finally found something. At the scene of the latest crime, you had found a piece of jewelery that was obviously hand made, but with an amazing amount of skill. You reminded yourself to give it to your Matesprite, since your anniversary was coming.

Anyways, it was a simple task of tracking down the source, since the style and quality of metal were the calling cards of Troll jewelers. You tracked it down to a younger Burgundy blood who possessed a Giant tunneling Horror Lusus surprisingly. This young Troll was well known in the higher echelons of the highbloods, especially the more aesthetically minded of them, for his well made and high quality jewelery. He was impossible to track down to place an order, making his Jewelery that much more desirable for their rarity and difficulty to attain.

With this information, you quickly began having lesser Legislacerators searching the territories for recently collapsed tunnels and more jewelery. The reports were coming in more and more, meaning soon you would find this Low blood, Ayyate, and be able to exact sweet sweet justice on him.

==> Laugh menacingly

You chuckle more then laugh, laughing would ruin the mood after all as you stare at the map hat tracked the likely locations of the criminal.

==> Be someone else
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Post by tlo Sun Oct 19, 2014 1:55 pm

You are now someone else. And, oh, you lucky dog! It turns out that Jack Noir just found a couple minutes of free time just to deal with your craziness! Well, actually, he just found twenty minutes in which to take a power nap or something. Seriously, this leading an entire people group thing is grueling, you say to nobody in particular. You really wish you could stab something right now. You just have this itch... Old habits die hard, they say, you say.

> WJ (White Jack): Get up, do something productive.


You get up, but immediately regret it. All of your white-clad limbs scream out in complaint. And, yes, you do mean white-clad limbs. After you joined up with these sappy do-gooders, they were pretty much scared to death of your bleak complexion, so you dumped a bucket of white paint on yourself. Not the cleanest job, but it got your point across.

> WJ: Obey your queen. Put on the ridiculous hat.


You don't even want to know where that thought came from. If it wasn't obvious, you're no longer working under a queen. Actually, you weren't even obligated to wear prototyped fashion, as there was no ring, and no scepter around to actually tell you if there was anything prototyped. A couple of spies on Derse were reporting that at least one thing was prototyped, as Skia was out of it's 3x3 stalemate now. Finally. But, anyhow, the white monarchs are dead, so that like... Doesn't matter at all.

> Wear the hat. Be the rider.


There. Is. No. Hat.

> WJ: Order some lackeys around.


No way. This is your hard-earned break from stabbing people. Er, ah, teaching people to stab. While sometimes mistaking the Prospitians for dummies. Seriously, just leave yourself alone, you have way too much junk to worry about.

> Leave yourself alone, go be yourself.

You are now yourself. One of many 'Yourself's, this one specifically less like a secondary personality and more like a brain tumor.

> Zealon: Do something.


You open your laptop, and shut it again.

> Zealon: Do something productive.


Zealon has nothing productive to do right now!

> Do something counter-productive.


You go up to your Recouperacoon, and kick it. A bit of Sopor slime falls onto your foot.

> Lick that off.


Zealon still ain't that dumb.

> Be someone else. Zealon is just too preoccupied.


You refuse, as you just realized what you needed to do.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

> Be someone with less class.
tlo
tlo
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Post by duelingThoughts Sun Oct 19, 2014 2:50 pm

==> Be someone with less class

You fail.

You appear to be in a darkened room. You are tall, lanky, and your lab coat is grey in the low light. You appear to be hunched over a glowing device of some sort, tinkering it quietly. The objects the room are ominous silhouettes, some of them even appearing biological in nature.

Who are you?

==> Enter name

No.

Just no.

What do you think this is some sort of game or something? You have a name, and you certainly aren't some player character part of a large and lethal game. Obviously you aren't going to reveal your name, because frankly you don't care for a mysterious narrator that can't be seen, or really interacted with in any conceivable way knowing details privy to your identity. It is only a little disconcerting.

==> Well what is his name?

You let them know that people (as in Hera), call you "Doc".

You are advisor to allegedly the most powerful human being in the universe. Of course, that was only half true... as he was the most powerful being in the universe. He wasn't human, despite what he has been portrayed as.

You serve him anyway however, and look over and take care of his "daughter" Hera. You're not sure what interest he has in this particular human, much like you have no idea why he expresses any interest in you. He cares for you and her however, very generously, so long as you two play your part, which was mostly just you taking care of Hera... which surprisingly was almost never for whatever reason.

So you do science experiments instead, most often, to appease the boredom of waiting for "the inevitable". Which by the way was exploding outside. Alternia was double doomed, and they'd all die by their own hands before the first meteor of the reckoning. It was all a very dreary existence. You might have been happier if you had lead the life of a player, of which you've been told you would have made an excellent Seer of Blood... the antithesis of the devilish whore you had to care for.

It was because of your knack for instinctually knowing all there needed be known about alliances and allegiances, that you knew from the moment you met "Dad", somehow your life and the lives of everyone around you was doomed from the start. "Dad" was something other than, troll, human, or "Cherub" as he mentioned. You didn't know what the last thing was, nor did you care. They didn't seem to pertain to this universe or something like that. You did know however, from your brief meetings with "God Owl" as he is affectionately called by Hera, that it and "Dad" shared distinct genetic similarities. You didn't even need to test it scientifically, you were just that good.

You also knew instinctively that "Dad" wasn't for the guarding of humanity. In fact, he was here to guard the trolls, guarding humans had been G Owl's responsibility. Unfortunately he was too animalistic to do much against the intelligence of Dad. Not much you could do about it anyway, you were just a human vaguely ecto biologically similar to the player meant to accomplish the game. You were nothing.

==>

You turn to face the reader, holding something in your hands that vaguely looks like a gun, and vaguely looks like a red snake in a weird way. It seems to be glowing, either by an extremely powerful power source, or some kind of funky bioluminescence.

You decided just now it was time to go against Dad's plans. You didn't care about Alternia's "ultimate purpose" and the "inevitable". You knew the source of defeat in this session, and it was the "little girl" upstairs playing a very dangerous game. She was power hungry, and the game offered all the power she could desire. She was a witch, and she was not the good kind. She'd doom the session in the worst way imaginable, causing as much pain to everyone around her as she saw fit to have fun with.

You hated it when people demonstrated the worst aspects of humanity, and you knew that if everyone was going to die anyway, better to have it in Nuclear Armageddon than what Hera was going to pull if she succeed in entering the game.

You were going to kill her before all the pain and suffering, so that her death would mean the death of all the rest, and save them the trouble of impossibly trying to survive.

==> [S] Doc, cure the disease


Doc enters the room in a flash of green light, as Hera places the Cruxite Dowel on the Alchemiter, producing an outstretched hand holding a ring. The timer was running down to 19:30, and the tall lanky scientist held his weapon.

If words were exchanged no one could tell. Hera and Doc stared each other down, Hera producing a sly smile, and Doc merely glared through his goggles. Hera withdrew her flute, and Doc raised his rifle. She raised the flute to her lips, and as she began the note for combat Doc lurched forward with his gun being swung at her like a whip.

STRIFE!

The lightsaber-like snake whip was met with an agile youth roll to the side, making the fangs sink into a bedpost behind her, oozing a glowing crimson fluid as it did so. He whip it back pulling rubble with it, sending splinters in her direction.

With a toot of her flute a gust of wind sent them reeling over to Doc. He countered it with a teleportation moments after the shards pass through his area. He then launches blasts of crimson lightning from his gun, burning the wall surrounding Hera as she lass scampers to the side, red bolts following close behind.

She plays a note as she jumps almost instantly to the side of a wall, before jumping again to the ceiling directly above Doc and coming down with a flute with his faces name on it. He blocks the attack with the barrel of his gun and throws her into curtained off chem lab, which he himself set up for her.

Emerging covered in chemical gunk, she grits her teeth in anger and glares murderously at Doc, who merely gives an impassive return, as if he was already dead. She was beating against a walking dead corpse... and losing. Her eyes welled with tears, not out of sorrow, but out of self pity. She lurched forward blindly at Doc with flute raised. Doc shot out the whip of his snake at her and smacked her towards her bedroom.

As she lay by the Alchemiter helplessly and almost unconscious, Doc walked menacingly towards her with every intent of killing her. This time he pressed a button on his biogunwhip, and it dispensed some kind of bomb. It was definitely nuclear... but stronger. It was a fusion bomb, it would level her estate and kill everything within a hundred mile radius. The whole world would feel the shockwaves, if they didn't die by their own conventional nukes first.

Hera's eyes widened in fear and she reached for the ring of power, it landed in her hand, but as she was about to put it on, Doc pulled a pin, and a red blast blinded everything in the room. Suddenly however, the explosion was eclipsed by the power of the green sun, and transported Doc and his bomb to Alternia's moon.

Doc looked more saddened by this than shocked. Betrayed by God Owl. It was an eventuality that he had expected. His goggles disintegrated revealing his tears moments before his doom. The explosion on the moon shook it from its orbit, bringing it on a collision course with Alternia in the next week. Overkill on top of overkill. There would be nothing left recognizable on Alternia by the end of this day, and then its post apocalypse visage shall be render unrecognizable a week later.

Hera finds her sitting in a singed room surprisingly unharmed, the ring no longer on her hand. She could see out her balcony, that there was nothing but an empty void... the medium.

She smiles and licks her lips.
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Post by BurdenKing Sun Oct 19, 2014 4:39 pm

==> Watch the strife

As you had been looking around your players hive, waiting for her to do the thing with the other things, when her Lusus guardian thing showed up with some sort of weapon. You thought it was just her Lusus coming in to check on her, maybe try to get some food, but the engagement quickly turned violent as the adult tried to kill Hera.

You didn't fully understand human culture, so you didn't do anything but watch, but you had high hopes for Hera succeeding. Of course you were disappointed when she was struck down and basically presenting herself to be culled. Before that though, some Owl Lusus came and there was a large flash of light. When the light passed, you saw she was alive and unharmed, smiling of all things.

A quick scan of the area quickly told you that she was not on Alternia anymore, and you wer ejust baffled she had managed to mov eher entire hive off to some other world.

==> Ask "the fuck?"

A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':

==> Recieve good news.

You finally get a hold of some good news, impressed how your agents were keeping up the search even with the chaos that was happening. Their devotion to justice made you nearly tear up. Of course, that would never happened. No room for tears with all this justicing you're doing. So instead you give then a number of good works and the occasional promotion, since it was near the end.

Your agents had found a still hot trail of their target, and were speeding to find it's source. You had entered a high speed land transport device, and was on your way as well, wanting to be there to personally cull that lowblood. Why you were on his side when it came to killing the high bloods, the way he did it was just uncouth, and required a swift culling to withhold your idea, which was the only right idea, of the law intact.

As you rocketed along, you activated a communications device and began to leave a message to your Matesprite, hoping she'd make it out in time to get to a shelter. It wasn't likely to work, but you had to hope at least.
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Post by duelingThoughts Mon Oct 20, 2014 4:33 pm

==>


A shortened continued version of 'The Whole Chat Log':

==> Server player, connect

Even though your house was not in anyway connected to any power station of any kind (unless there was one somehow hiding in the Medium), your holographic computer remains active, if only a little fritzy thanks to you and your "guardian"
s little skirmish. The walls were all singed, you were dirty as fuck, and you were starting to see unicorns. Damn chemicals, they don't work worth a damn.

Or at least you hope... that would be really awkward trying to be the master if suddenly you fell to the whim of a mere suggestion by another player. The irony alone would kill you outright. Or so you say.

You then proceed to answer the memo like you said you would just to make that awesome comeback to that all too knowledgeable fellow player. This was going to be fun! Wasn't this guy insane? Hopefully that doesn't impeded his progress but then again... what do you care? You're already in the medium. Who says you need them?

You decide to at the very least mess with him.


Memo from before:

Even though it seemed that for whatever reason the Trollian/Pesterchum time chat function was not operable, your CPU could handle the stress of rebooting it, at least for you. So you made the awesome comeback and were now currently messing it all up. Great. OH FUCKIN WELL.

==> Facepalm

What an epic facepalm it was!

==>
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Post by tlo Mon Oct 20, 2014 6:39 pm

==>


You are now the crazy one.

> Respond to your Memo.

Spoiler:

> Stop showing off, you moron.


You stop showing off, and plop down into your dead lusus alcove, next to the white corpse. That thing always made you smile.

> Be someone less creepy.


{[( Sorry, short post. )]}
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Post by duelingThoughts Wed Oct 22, 2014 4:18 pm

(OOC: Sorry about the wait, I was busy yesterday)

==> Be someone less creepy

Well... you kinda fell short of not being creepy, but at least you most likely probably less creepy than the last guy! Although you were just smacking your lips after watching someone UNDOUBTEDLY die, and then proceed to make pseudo-near-incestuous innuendo about that person in a casual conversation with a complete stranger. At least the stranger was an ignorant troll that probably had something similar happen all the time! They were after all bat shit nuts, the lot of them.

Unfortunately that stranger troll was the exact creepy person you were trying to be less creepy ass, so your chances of being not creepy were plummeting dramatically. It didn't help that you think you heard something downstairs. Was that... roaring? Oh no... somehow Doc's crummy ZOO must have opened up all of his freak shows throughout the mansion. That would be fun to clean up after...

Hey wait a second, what's that familiar...?

==> [...]

Oh! Herabotsprite! You almost forgot she was floating there, behind you, the entire time. Well she could have been more help in your hour of near mortal doom!

Spritelog:

In an angry fit you decide to take it out on your client player. You have already connected to him and could see his ghastly room, but you were too much in a tantrumous mood to notice the specific details. So without care for placement she deployed all the things she was able to in that moment (unless "care" is the systematic selection of the most inappropriate and inconvenient placement possible, in which case she had the most care one could have).

==>

You grin like a sadistic devil.

Spoiler:
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Post by tlo Wed Oct 22, 2014 10:24 pm

> Be the crazy one.


You are now the crazy one.


Show Trolllog
Spoiler:

> Okay, seriously, stoooooop showing off. Are you always like this?

You stop showing off for a couple seconds, and get to your ladder, and walk through the rest of your house. The Cruxtruder was blocking the fake door, the Alchemiter in the middle of your second floor next to the Punch Designix, and the Totem Lathe next to your desk upstairs. You had the pre-punched card in your Sylladex, which seemed to be made of an unknown alloy, so you just put it in your sixth slot, that being one of the nuances of the Modus.

You grin, and whallop the Cruxtruder right on top of it with your huge tome.

> The suspense.. It needs to kill me more. Be someone else.
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Post by duelingThoughts Thu Oct 23, 2014 3:09 pm

==> The suspense.. It needs to kill me more. Be someone else.

One death wish coming right up!

Spoiler:

==> BB: Explore the gravity of MM's situation

To make your point perfectly clear, you click on the nearest fixture of his "hive" and tear that fucker out of there, solely to fuck shit up. You bite your lip holding back maniacal giggles as you click and drag the clunky thing over seemingly important other things. You immediately get bored of this and decide to toss some shit at the troll while he does whatever the hell it is he was doing.

Intermittently between throws you began to see what shitty thing you could try and make with the Alchemiter. It made a giant hand pop out of yours right? Let's see what else it can do. You don't have time to waste his dowel so you decided to stick any random old thing in and waste as much of this strange "build grist" as possible. Surely that will only be a detriment to him of course.

==> Be someone with an awful lot of extra respiteblocks
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Post by tlo Thu Oct 23, 2014 9:40 pm

You are now someone with a whole lot of Respitblocks.

> Don't bother with divine vengeance, boy. The whorish one and the high-blood  killer both will soon know that you understand gravity much, much more then then ever will. Like, say, the pull of gravity towards a Dersian warship bearing down on them to destroy completely and utterly.

Okay, now you stop being dramatic. No, not you, you.

You stop being drama-Hey wait, what? You grasp your skull, and wait for continuity to return.

> Continuity: Return.

Continuity returns, and you sigh, shaking your head at the random objects that flew at him, and instantly lost momentum just before hitting him, falling to the ground. The game didn't allow the server player to move the client player in any way, thus the momentum of the objects was instantly removed when the threat of movement was made.

> Prototype the Kernelsprite. Carve your Totem with the card. You know the drill.


You Captchalogue the purple-red Cruxite dowel that you extruded, and it goes into your sixth card... With your Pre-punched card? Generally when a card was forced out, it went into the Sylladex. Apparently being punched just made the two become DOWEL+PRE-PUNCHED CARD. You then Captchalogue a pair of your socks, allocate them to your Strife Speccibus, and attack your Kernalsprite with it.

It glows, and a pair of socks appear engraved on it. It then starts spewing random, patterned noises, and you clasp your hands to your ears.

> Carve the Dowel.


You go to the Totem Lathe, and stick your card and dowel in. The machine whirs, and slices at your Dowel, carving it to a fabulous shape. You smile, and head to your Alchemiter.

> Zealon: Enter.


Zealon placed the Dowel onto the machine's pedestal, and watched with a sharp-toothed grin as the machine slowly scanned the purplish piece of art, and winked at Zealon.

He still watched as the machine glowed with a bright light, and licked his lips with anticipation as said light died. There, on the large platform, was what looked like a life-sized wooden posable artist's mannequin, but made of the same purplish alloy that the Dowel had been. It it's outstretched, oval-shaped hand, it held a puzzle of only nine pieces and no pictures. Without hesitation, the boy reached over, and snapped a piece off of the puzzle.


And the clouds fell dark, and the sky fell away. The sky fell black, and the world was left behind.
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Post by BurdenKing Fri Oct 24, 2014 12:52 pm

==> Party

No, you refuse to party. You simply continue to play with your jewelery, waiting for when your server player connects before you start wasting energy. You were pretty far along the piece, but there was always something you wanted to tweek or fix with it, so you thought it'd never be done. However, you actually enjoyed the thought, as it meant that you could put your all into this last piece before the end of the world.

You watched you client do her thing, and proceeded to begin to play with the structure building options, noting the lack of grist you had and stopping before you ran out. You wonder how you get more, before you just shrug and look around the hive.

As you scouted things out, you began to notice small movements in the shadows, and glints of metal. However, what you did not notice, was the large Legislacerator force that was carefully preparing to move in on your location. Oh well, out of sight out of mind.
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Post by tlo Sat Oct 25, 2014 7:27 pm

[[ Soooorrry for not posting, lol. Is mah burfday :) ]]

> Be the crazy one, he needs to connect.


You are now the crazy one, who needs to connect.

> Crazy one: Connect.


Woah, woah woah. Hold your hoofbeasts. You'd rather talk to the person you're connecting to first.

> Fine. Fine. Do the talking already.


You open up Pesterchum, and start a message towards the highblood-killer, tracking his computer and starting up the server player towards it.

Spoiler:

> Zealon: Wait patiently.


You refuse outright, and try to strike up a conversation with your new head-demon. How is he doing?

> He's doing fine. Tell your friend to hurry up.


You don't think that'd be polite. What was the head-demon talking about before, about time-lockstep?

> The time-lockstep communication means that, even though I'm in a time way after yours, I'm communicating with you in a sane and linear way.


You wonder what exactly that means.

> I don't have time for this. Check your yellow icon.


You think he has just as much time as you do, twelve minutes exactly. And, Pesterchum hasn't given you a message yet, it's been like, two seconds.

> Fine, whatever. Basically, every second I spend here a million years in your future or something, is one second spent in yours, so when I type on this stupid keyboard thing and hit the idiotic '==>' button that I have to edit every time to say'-=>', then the more useful enter button, it sends a message to you at an equivalent pace like I was living next door to you at the same time or something. Frankly, I just want to stab this machine to death, but whatever. I don't even know what time it is for you, I stabbed the clock out ages ago. Don't ask. I think that was one of those doomed, extreme-branch timelines leaking in.


You wonder if this voice is going to stop rambling.

> Be someone with a better taste in stories.
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Post by BurdenKing Sun Oct 26, 2014 3:07 am

==> Answer Server

You were actually surprised at the sudden message. You quickly typed your reply as you looked for the button, then nodded.

With a quick click, it was activated, and you could immediately tell you were watched in your massive dirt hole, with your massiv elusus in plain view as it wriggled a bit into a sleeping position.

Spoiler:

==> Prepare to breach

You are now High legislacerator, you're massive steel stake in your hands resting on your shoulder. You would make an example of this low blood, and make every one who stares at his maimed corpse as it hangs onto your stake remember why the high blood made you their lead Legislacerator. You never bother with courts, cause you knew the high blood just wanted to watch the kill, and oh the show you would broadcast.

Truning theatrically, you stare at the camera drone and into it's blight film light, unflinching thanks to your cool law enforcement shades "Welcome, Hhhhighbloods of Alternia, to my latest case. Today, we hhhhave a little low blood who thhhhinks he can get away withhhh spilling your beautiful blood across the dirt. Hhhhe doesn't know it yet, but we are standing right above hhhhis make shift hhhhive, and will no doubt be staining hhhhis floors with his blood."

With a bit of theatric movement, you twirl your stake and stab it into the ground, the sight of meteors and missiles flying behind you making the lighting just right. "While you stay sqafe in the shhhhelters, my legislacerators and i shhhhall carry out justice, and entertain you while you wait out the hhhhumans futile attempts at war. And my Empress, if you're watching thhhhis, it's all dedicated to you." You make an exaggerated thumbs up, and pose a little as per your standard method of theatrics.

With that, you pulled out your Stake, and signaled to all of you men and women to prepare to breach.
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