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SBURB Zeta (Closed... for now)

+3
Thrillho
cealvan
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Post by BurdenKing Thu Dec 07, 2017 9:02 pm

==> Be the weird fairy bitch

You'de rather not be called a weird fairy bitch, you don't honestly know what a fairy is honestly. However she seems to be the only appropriate target for you to become at the moment, you decide to be the god of rage with the sweet ass guitar.

==> Be that thing said above

You are now the troll god of rage....At least, that what you think, since you God-tiered and all. If you're on the tier of a god, then being a God of rage sounded about right. However despite having fought through hell and back, gone through a couple character arcs, and became a god, only now would you be reminded of your name.

You are Reiley, once Heiress to a grand empire that spanned the stars and A tier rock star on Alternia, now a god of rage floating in the void as everything you fought for come crumbling down around you.

Landing with a sigh on the purple battleship, you stare out into the void and listen for the voices, but hear nothing. You can't tell if they're gone, or if they are just ignoring you now. In any case, you take a deep breath again, suppressing the anger that was welling up. You may be the Heir of Rage, but ever since what happened with your Moirail, you have worke dhard to never lose your shit again. It's rather difficult sometimes, and you sometime shave to vent. You just came back from such an event, having leveled a good couple square miles of a planet before slipping away before whateve rit was that wanted to kill you and your friends could find you.

It was risky what you did, but it had to be done. Also, picking up more grist so your friends and you could keep alchemtizing supplies was helpful somewhat.

==> Contact your Sis

You pull out your pocket communications pad and open trollian to briefly look over your messages and such, and once confirming that you hadn't missed much, you send a message to your Sis.

Pesterlog (yT and bB):

Adter sending the message, you move forward across the hull of the ship, humming a small song that you'd been toying with for awhile. It was likely to end up another train wreck of a love ballad, but you like to think you're improving.

==>Spot the Space Hobo

As She's made very clear on multiple occasions, Astero is anything but a space hobo. Still, you sometimes refer to her with that name in your head, telling no one of course. Deciding it'd be good to interact with someone face to face, you fly over and simply land next to her, sitting and getting comfortable as you stared into the sky.

Dialogue:
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Post by Sir Realism Fri Dec 08, 2017 2:02 pm

==> Become the Reminiscent Watcher.

You are now the Heir of Grief, a physical manifestation of what once was and will never be again. Metaphorically, that is... It's been years since a reality seemed as promising as this one. Stuck in this damn game, for what? The cause? Fuck the cause! It only affects this damn hell doesn't it? No... it was your choice to stay here, you were too obsessed with their loss... but now you've gotten over it, you hope. Whatever, at least now you have something to look forward to.

==> Confront your pals, your animated pals.

You flip the switch on the wall and light up the room just barely. Rusted metallic robots line the walls of what looks like a marble corridor. Ah that's right, nobody knows who or where you are. Best keep it that way for now. A single functioning robot falls off the rack and onto its knees, slowly picking itself up. You Immediately realize this is no ordinary robot, this is HER robot. You look away in shame and regret. Ironically she chose to name it H.E.R., which will make this even more confusing... you don't even think those acronyms stand for anything, it was just for show. The slender, long haired robot gets on its feet and crosses its arms like it was programmed to do.

Dialogue:

She nods her head and walks out of the room. You can't handle her existence, the sooner its over the better, then you can make things right.
 
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Post by Thrillho Fri Dec 08, 2017 7:17 pm

==>

It's obvious now that you're done with alchemizing bullshit. You start making your way out into the maze, the underlings fleeing within upon seeing you move over. Considering you've started getting used to this whole fighting thing, the battle system is almost like second nature to you. A few rounds ring in the maze and you bash a few skulls in by misusing your rifle. -Y'know...strife stuff.

-Seemingly out of nowhere, a SEA of posts are sent out at you. Each of them being either from people you haven't heard from in awhile or continuations of other conversations. Luckily you already solved the problem of multitasking by alchemizing your new equipment. The weird android shades amalgamation being one of them. Hopefully this won't fully distract you from your walk.

Pesterlog:

==>

You eventually get lost again the maze, the sound of rubble and moving concrete softly rumbling around you.

Pesterlog:

God, why are you suddenly even more popular than usual? Isn't everyone supposed to be basically DEAD right now? Whatever. You eventually find the large gate leading deeper into the maze and unlike last time, it appears to be open. -Assumingly because you killed the Ogre that guarded it from earlier. You begin entering immediately.

==>

-A custom ringtone plays. The one you use to signal your good friend....

Pesterlog:

What an idiot. You begin internally tearing up at how silly this tale was. What the heck was he even on about? Maybe he was the weird brown guy who socked you a new one?...-Maybe. As you delve deeper into the maze, a few more underlings begin swarming you. It's such a big leap from level one that you can't help but begin kiting the enemies. It sucks.

==>

CanorousCalimest began pestering archaicAngel:

You begin rushing out into battle to find these fucking assholes that are residing on American Soil!

-After your many battles, you rise a few rungs of the echeladder.

==>

After being our Human-Hero, you switch over to KIMOKE.

Pesterlog:
Thrillho
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Post by ZoozooKinkajou Sat Dec 09, 2017 12:07 am

==> Be the CURLY-HAIRED TROLL aimlessly wandering the PURPLE deck.

The squeaking of rubber against metal floors echo through your EAR DUCTS once again as you jog down the deck of dreadful color. Fortunately, your mind is not focused on ranting on and on about how this particular shade of purple is a huge, eye-jarring, fucking piece of shit that should be eradicated from space and time. Your initial objective was to seek a companion on this gogforsaken ship, whether it be your MOIRAIL, a certain FISH SHIT, or someone else.

However...

==> Space out while walking because that's a fantastic and genius idea.

You comply, eyes staring blankly forward. Your mind delves into the very concept of reality, completely tossing aside your objective. Are you real? Are you truly real? What does the future have in store for you? Not good things, because your GANG's luck has been pretty fucking shitty so far. Other than getting this nice battleship to be stuck on for an unbearable amount of time. A battleship, that is only a single color.

==> STOP

You stop yourself from accidentally jumping into another mental tirade about the poor color choices of this vessel. But, you don't stop yourself from tripping over a ROGUE SHOELACE. Your FACE gets BOPPED by the floor. A moderate "FWUMP" bounces throughout the empty space, audible to those nearby. Thankfully, it wasn't much of a hit. The pain remains only for a few moments before fading away. Your grip is still tight around your HUSKTOP. Your muscle memory has failed to save you from gravity, fuck you muscles. You pathetic pieces of SHIT.

==> Get up and check on the state of your HUSKTOP

You decide to delay that action and continue to lie down on the smooth metal floor. Your brain is still comprehending what just happened, attempting to reel itself back to her reality from its interrupted SPACE OUT session.

==>

After dragging yourself back out of your state of stagnancy, you take a moment to register that someone was speaking to you. You immediately spring up from your position on the floor, nearly dropping your HUSKTOP in the process. Your head spins to the source of the voice, pupils darting around before landing on the winged form of a familiar HEIR of RAGE. It was now that you realized that said troll had witnessed your blunder.

==> Blush and shrink in humiliation.

What are you, an immature wiggler? Well, yes, at times. Only to be petty when you clash with FISH SHIT. But, to blush and shrink in humiliation? Nah. You don't really give a fuck that she witnessed. What is she going to do? Gossip? Do any of you even gossip? Actually, ignore that last question. One of you probably does, but still the number of fucks you give does not change.

==> Greet the FLYING FISH

Dialogue:

==> Check Trollian

You sit down on the smooth purple floor once again, this time next to FLYING FISH. Once seated, you wiggle around a bit until you're in a satisfactory position. After adjusting your jacket and making sure your as comfortable as can be, you set down your HUSKTOP and open it.

==> ho SHIT

Wow okay that's a lot of people messaging you at once. Wow hopy shit. And it looks like the human with the INCONVENIENT HAIR finally responded to you. Great. You can continue your investigation. Gotta type fa-

==> UM

After reading over the... okay you should really find a shorter nickname to refer to them as. Hmm.... Let's see.... BADMAN. Yea, that sounds suitable. Red flags are being raised everywhere in your mind. You are alarmed, but you keep calm. You know that this condescending asshole fucked up your GANG's session. There is no doubt.

You even more alarmed by the fact that he already knows your name and is aware of the fact that you've messaged.... an alternate version of him. More specifically they messaged you. It was a confusing conversation in which alternate guy said mysterious shit you try to comprehend what the fuck he was saying. You never, uh, told anyone else about this conversation. You... sort of have a plan in mind? You still don't have enough info to know exactly what you need to do.

To summarize, he had an annoying attitude. It's sort of like talking to EKLIAT- whoops you meant FISH SHIT. Except there are actually times in which you enjoy your arguing with the violetblood. You would've attempt to interrogated them further if they hadn't immediately left the conversation. It's very clear that they do not wish to talk to you anytime soon. At least there was a few questions answered. Your investigation comes to a halt once again.

....

You wonder if you should warn the others about this human. They probably are already aware of the POPIKOSPRITE flying about. However, they most likely don't know who prototyped the sprite yet.

You take out your REMINDERS notebook from your SYLLADEX, scribble down a note to make a memo later, and set said notebook down on the floor beside you.

==> Message S H A D E S

Pesterlog:

==>

You are surprised to see that FISH SHIT has messaged you, though they have responded with a single sentence. A single, vague sentence. You respond to this single sentence with several more sentences.

Pesterlog:

==>

You've known POPIKO for many sweeps now, but you only view him as a  friend. You hold neither FLUSHED, nor PALE, nor PITCH feelings for him. You already have PITCH feelings for a certain FISH SHIT. But you're not going to waste time talking about that. You accidentally took that first sentence seriously, gogdamn it. You've been FOOLED.

==> Get on with it.

You still have.. one more person to message? You think?

...

Yes, you do. That one person is your MOIRAIL. Now type! Type at the speed of sound! FASTER THAN THE SPEED OF SOUND! Your typing speed has picked up since the last pesterlogs! You've got to keep up with all these conversationsOH FUCK TYPOS

Pesterlog:

==> Ponder

You tear away your attention from Trollian to ponder whether or not it was possible to be high or drunk while you're dreaming on Derse or Prospit. You give REILEY a quick glance, confirming that she's still there. You follow her gaze towards the night sky, silently admiring for the umpteenth time in the past hour. It looks like you didn't need to aimlessly wander the ship for someone to chill with, thankfully.

......

You should make that memo sometime soon.
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Post by furry garbage Sat Dec 09, 2017 6:57 pm

==> Mona: GO HAM.

As the other humans, aliens, and whatever the hell else continued on with their lives.. You had been happily screeching like an absolute imbecile as you began to alchemize absolutely useless bullshit, which somehow actually wasn't entirely useless! In the time that you'd been gone, you had managed to create the following..

iLUCIFER AVIATORS x1 - Horned Shades && iPhone SE

-These are probably the edgiest pair of shades someone could ever wear, and not even you understand why they've been brought into existence. Perhaps to booty-call the devil himself?

BLUELIGHT BLADE x1 - Neon Light && Holographic Knife

-Oh god, why would anyone use this? It looks pretty cool, but similar to an actual neon sign, wouldn't it shatter upon impact? Either way, this weapon is like a knife-flashlight crossbreed, with all the effects of a blacklight thrown in! It even seems to leave a little trail of light whenever you slash at something.

MYERS DOLL x1 - Myers Poster && Blowup Doll

-You.. Why did you do this to him? Why would you ever do this to your boy?

==> Be so very proud of yourself.

You stand with your blowup doll and brand new knife in hand, beaming at your sprite proudly!.. Despite now being flat fucking broke. You didn't care, you actually looked and felt pretty cool, plus you could probably kill even more imps easier after this!

.. Err. After you respond to all of these notifications. In your alchemizing spree, you had completely forgotten about literally every conversation you had going on. With your new method of communication, companion, and a weapon, you suppose you could go run around and explore the crevices while talking to your buddies.

==> Respond.

Pesterlog:

As you make your way back down the spire, your sprite begins to point out little things about the land to you.. The patterns the thorny vines created, the way everything seemed to point in one specific direction.. But were you really going to pay any attention to that noise? Hell no!.. Or, not right now, at least.

==> Be someone else.

You are now the mutant gal, who seems to have calmed down a little right about now.. Thank god. After your little spurt of sobbing, you had decided to message one of the humans that you'd been watching like a featherbeast for the longest time. It seems that he's responded back to you, what a surprise!

Pesterlog:

==>

Oh. Oh no. Your good mood is IMMEDIATELY shot down, as the fish you were stuck on this wretched hellship with had also messaged you in the meantime. You couldn't help but let out a groan as you opened the chat.. She kept trying to call you "sis", which you assumed was some sort of shortened version of "insectisister", a phrase often used by the church.. Or more commonly, the highblood cults. You were still inclined to respond, due to her blood status.

Pesterlog:

Ugh. Her hue made you want to claw your eyes out.
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Post by hereticalTophat Sun Dec 10, 2017 2:11 pm

==>Be Ekliat
You suppose you have enough time on your hands; not like some ominous threat is lurking nearby in a Papyrus font.
In any case, you see the one female alien typing and you are not getting any notifications.

==>Express outrage
Pesterlog:

You're more upset than anything, really. There goes those happy thoughts of her being your student in ace-mind-gaming.
Speaking of which,

==>Ekliat, respond to Erebus.

You still need to come up with a derogative nickname for her, it's beginning to get irritating.

Pesterlog:

==>Find Popiko

You start by closing the lid on your husktop and putting it into your sylladex. To find the lowblood shouldn't be too difficult, as you already have the layout of the ship (mostly) memorized in your thinkpan. In the time you've been on this ship, wandering around to get a feel of your surroundings had been done a while ago.

After taking one last glance at Troll Will Smith, you begin to walk down the corridor.

==>Ekliat: Walk.

You begin walking...

Wait what the hell is this shitty piece of music?

You feel like it would belong to a certain other highblood, pompously fluttering their cape behind them and marching down the corridor.

Alright try again.

==>Ekliat: Walk with class..?
No music. None.
You don't need to try and impress people, you're already amazing.
Jeez, you hope nobody heard that fuckup.

You arrive outside Popiko's room, and decide to call for him instead of ominously knocking on the door- you know that shit gets to him.

Dialogue:

Other highbloods back on Alternia may have just barged through the door, but you're better than that- polite, even. Although if he doesn't answer you may just end up doing it anyway- moreso out of irritating than anything else, you still retain highblood authority. That shit was a birthright.


Last edited by hereticalTophat on Tue Dec 12, 2017 3:21 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post by cealvan Sun Dec 10, 2017 3:59 pm

==>

you emediatly get responces back,

==>respond
CanorousCalimest began pestering archaicAngel:

well, you can understand the insult scatterbrain, as your thoughts do tend to scatter quite a bit. oh well, if that's the worst part about you, you could do worse.

==>respond to mona
Pesterlog:

to be honist, you are not sure why you didn't warn him about it being an irl game before putting all the things down in his room, but you guess that what is done is done, and all you can do at this point is appologise and hope you all get back to earth safely.

==> last one
Pesterlog:

you have to give it to the makers of this game to make the universe believable, you guess you should have assumed this would happen, as the consort you saw had a human-esque personality, so why not a pesterchum bot? oh well, you start fighting off ogres to up your rank on the echalader



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Post by Sir Realism Tue Dec 12, 2017 2:54 pm

==> Filthy Peasant

He responded exactly as you would expect, time to throw in some reverse psychology,
you've known Penn for quite some time now, and you know reverse psychology is the ultimate weapon. That imbecile will do the exact opposite of what you tell him to do. Lately however he's begun to learn from trial and error, you'll have to use REVERSE REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY. Genius!

Pesterlog:

That should handle things, now the next one.

Pesterlog:

Throughout your heartfelt letters you've been slowly walking through rain and rubble to your home. The walk wasn't that far and the little amphibians seem to be following you like good disciples.

==>

You've made it home, or at least made it to the point where you can see home. Of course your house had to land atop a stone tower. What's hilarious is that fathers conjoined bunker ship is jutting out of the sides of this tower. That bunker is practically indestructible, and this proves it. Say, where is your estranged father anyhow?

==> AMBUSH!!! STRIFE!!!



Before you know it your being ambushed from all sides from a massive accumulation of imps who've been spawning while you were away. You command your servants into fighting positions with your clever BATON POINTS.

STRIFE:

You scoff and gloat your winnings, look at all this grist! You could absolutely upgrade your equipment now.

==> Walk home

You and your posse make your way home.

==>

You are now Popiko Pantar, musical celebrity and professional procrastinator. Someone's talking outside on the other side of your door? Oh wait, you know who it is... Ekilat... probably...

==> Let your savior in.

You press a button next to the wall and open the automatic doors, pretty nifty for a medieval space ship... oh wait what?

Dialogue :

You fall on your knees and grab Ekilat by her left ankle, yeah you're gonna need a crowbar for that.
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Post by BurdenKing Tue Dec 12, 2017 7:41 pm

==> Be the God!

Alright, that's sounding a bit pretentious. It is true, and would be appropriate even if you weren't a literal god. You are an Heiress after all, top of the food chain and all that. But you don't particurally like advertising it, and know for a fact it pushes lower bloods away, which is pretty bad when the only people left of your race are all lower castes than your own. In most cases drastically far. So, a more humble nickname would likely be better.

==> Be the Rocker Fish

Yeah that'll work. You are now Reiley Quatro again, currently chilling on the deck of a purple ship, in space, next to a girl who talks to stars and occasionally gets a few cryptic as fuck responses. Honestly, you at first thought it was either a game or she was crazy, but over the course of the game, you can't help but think you sort of relied on them a little. They were a small consistent aspect of this game that, with all the stupid shit that went down, was appreciated.

You lay down on th ehull of the ship, feeling the cold metal as you continue your conversation, pulling out your phone so you can shoot off some messages yourself since that seemed to have been given the green light by the star gazing troll to your side.

Dialogue:

==>Try contacting your musical rival

Pop may have some talent, be a genius, out skill you when it comes to certain technical aspects of huitar, and be kind of adorable after being punched....you were going somewhere with this, but for the life of you you can't help but think about punching him, then having a sick rock off with the dude. You of course would win, cause you were obviously better than him and he stood no chance. I mean, he needed a band to rock out, like a total rookie. Not like you, who went full solo. When your banned was completely wiped out in the whole "Homeworld and species being wiped out by a reality altering video game" thing...

You send off a message before you go and further down this train of thought and either punch a hole through the ship or lose your self control.

Pesterlog with Pop:

==> Be proud of your expert pitched flirting

There has never been, or eveil will be, a pitch flirt master such as yourself. Why, you bet he's gearing up to come punch you already. You feel a bit hype at the idea, imaging how you'' reciprocate in order to escalate things in just the right way.

==>Take a break from weird alien romance nonsense


No, never. Fuck you

==>Be someone else for a little

Probably for the best, you'll just hang here and wait for the replies. First though, you send a few quick replies to your sis. Family first and all that nonsense humans say.

Pesterlog with sis:
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Post by Sir Realism Thu Dec 14, 2017 2:46 pm



==> H.E.R.: Pursue

You've been tracking these unusual invaders for quite some time. The trolls that is, programming has build in the exact location of their ship. However it's a little glitched considering the ships from another game. Either way it hasn't been too much of a problem for you, all you really have to do is introduce yourself.

==> Introduce yourself.

You fly at high speed directly underneath the massive battleship and puncture straight through its underbelly. Programming has placed you right smack in the "lounge" of the ship, which in reality is just the storage room but with crates and boxes stacked like chairs and tables in order to make the environment more friendly. It really doesn't help... at all...

==> Activate sirens

A large speaker emerges from your chest and begins to play LOUD ATTENTION GETTING SOUNDS.
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Post by Thrillho Fri Dec 15, 2017 10:48 pm

==>

Pesterlog:

After having the riveting chat with the local-dumbass, you've found yourself at an impasse. It appears
that you're lost in the maze. The waves of Imps doesn't seem to be stopping and no return node is in sight. Quite frankly, you are starting to get...scared. If you get lost out here, how the fuck are you supposed to continue with the game? -Hell, maybe this is all the game is for you? Time to ask the local game expert that isn't named after a phallic object.

==>

CanorousCalimest began pestering archaicAngel:

Another ogre emerges out of nowhere, his very existence radiates carbonation. It...seems a little more dangerous than before. It's most likely the rest of the alchemizations in the session. The tentacles and ripples in time intensify, the blatant weird pepsi-sprite symbol plastered on his chest, and some stuffed creature. You're stopped in your tracks by the cretin and punched a few times. Although the damage didn't really register until the cog disappeared.

You're smacked away, your health vial lowers down due to it.

==>

Pesterlog:

You pick yourself up, the pain immediately begin replaced with frustration. You refuse to let yourself get angry over something as trivial as this. Now was time to strife and without your sprite...you'll have to give it your all.

==>

Pesterlog:

You lunge out at it, preparing for your attack!

==>

The alarms echoing in the battleship switch you over to KIMOKE

Pesterlog:

You trot out of your room, a bit angry at your comrades for pulling shit off. To think it had been nearly a week since the last incident! Because of your size, you hit the pipes and tops of the doors a few times due to your mind deadset on kicking someones ass.
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Post by hereticalTophat Thu Dec 21, 2017 6:55 am

==>Be revolted.
You'll definitely need to wash your outfit after all this is over, and you decide to speak out your displeasure.

Dialogue :

You realize that you're beginning to sound a little bit like the late, encouraging, woof-beast-ish blue blood himself; despite the rather moreso aggressive tone. In any case, you're about to continue your lecture until you hear a loud crash coming from somewhere below you. When you're about to comment about that, the rather rude alarm cuts you off. You furrow your brow in mild irritation, but the feeling quickly subsides as you realize that you can actually do something here!

==>Drag Popiko for adventure
Dialogue :

With an almost morbid sense of enthusiasm, you begin dragging Popiko along the floor as he clings to your leg; uncaring for any damages he may suffer.

Also you feel like that part about horn-size could be a euphemism of some kind.

Also you don't even that Jade Guy like that!

You make a mental note to make that valid point later.
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Post by ZoozooKinkajou Thu Dec 21, 2017 2:14 pm

==> BLUH

You are SUDDENLY JOLTED as a VERY CONCERNING SOUND blasts through your HEAR DUCTS. Your REMINDER NOTEBOOK, your HUSKTOP, and YOURSELF unwillingly HOP a little due to the impact. You instantly slam your palms on the ground to stabilize yourself. While you were adept at keeping calm under pressure, CONSTANT LOUD NOISES do not do wonders for your stress LEVELS.

Dialogue:

==> CAPTCHALOGUE ITEMS and PREPARE FOR A POTENTIAL COMBAT

You stand up, adjusting your jacket's sleeves as you do so. You captchalogue the items that you've set down. After doing so, you open your STRIFE SPECIBUS and equip your ridiculously large paint brush, ASTRAL STROKE. You normally use maces, but in this situation you're at a great disadvantage since you'll most likely have to fight in a CLOSED SPACE.

Anyway, ASTRAL STROKE has changed a bit since you first alchemized it long ago. It's a bit more mechanical now.

It has a PAINT TANK strapped to the long handle, it transfers PAINT to the BRUSH part. ASTRAL STROKE also sort of has a paint jet installed near the end of the handle? There are two triggers on the paint brush's handle that you can pull to shoot out a burst of PAINT. This allows for you to do more damage if you ever need the brush to CLOBBER the enemy.

==>

The tank is currently filled with PURPLE PAINT. It isn't transferring paint right now. You configure it to start transferring paint before sending it back to your STRIFE SPECIBUS. You might as well make haste to your RESPITEBLOCK since you will probably need more paint to use as ammo. After that, you'll make a mad dash to.... wherever the potential intruder might be.

You jog across the deck, preserving your stamina while completely forgetting about your friend, FLYING FISH.

==> Answer your MESSAGES

What no. Now is not the time. There is probably an intruder on the ship and this is a matter that cannot just be left lying in the dust. The clanging of your shoes slamming against the metal floor are nothing compared to the OBNOXIOUSLY LOUD SIRENS. You notice now that the sirens... are not originating from all around you. They're originating from a certain direction.

==> Burst into RESPITEBLOCK

The door is violently shoved aside and slams against the wall. You run in and CAPTCHALOGUE as many SPARE JARS OF PURPLE PAINT as possible. You're saving your GOOD PAINT for whenever you feel like going on another ART SPREE. You accidentally captchalogue too many items. This ends up ejecting your TELESCOPE at high speed. The FANCY TELESCOPE spins through the air and smashes into the wall. You'll... check on it later.

==> Burst OUT of RESPITEBLOCK

You swing the DOOR open again, however it BOUNCES OFF THE WALL and SLAMS CLOSED before you can exist. You huff in annoyance before opening the door more gently. This time, you exit with no resistance from the door.

==> Proceed towards the ATTENTION-CATCHING SOUNDS
ZoozooKinkajou
ZoozooKinkajou
Juvesquirt

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Post by Sir Realism Fri Dec 29, 2017 11:52 am



As the trolls make their way to the commotion one by one you prepare a bizarre, robotic, unfoldable desk and chair. Once automacically assembled you sit and open a hatch on your chest. A small pamphlet of papers is revealed. Once everyone arrived she begins to speak, reading from the pamphlet.



And with that, you blast off out of the roof of the ship, leaving only the pamphlet, the desk, and the chair.

A NEW QUEST HAS BEGUN: THE SKYBOX CURRICULAR
Sir Realism
Sir Realism
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