(Taking into consideration the earworm incident, I think Jim started panicking because Bishop started panicking, since that's never a good sign. And thanks for the update, I started watching an LP of X-Com EU and it looks pretty fun. ^^^
@Toaster: It's probably made out of Jim, for obvious reasons.)
"...That settles that," Jim said to no one in particular, collecting the cutlass and putting both his swords away. His wristpad was showing a new message from somebody named Stacy on the ship. It looked like a spam e-mail, but he went ahead and opened it anyway. He probably had antiviruses on this platform for shit like that.
(And now if Jim goes off on someone it's going to be even more ridiculous because I didn't bother changing his emoticon.)
[will:2+1]
You look at the picture carefully, examining it on the much smaller resolution of the wristpad. It takes a moment for it to come together for you.
"ah."
You proceed to calmly walk across the room, grab one of the beds, tear it from the ground, and crush it in your bare hands until it resembles a rudimentary club. You then begin smashing absolutely everything in sight, crushing beds and datapad diaries and putting dents in the wall until you finally come to face Scrambles, laying unconscious on the floor.
You raise the club.
((Hooray for field triage!
Also, I liked that story given to Irony.))
"This laser rifle- I mean, a laser rifle." Right, it's with that Thomas fellow...
Feyri looked uncertain before deciding to tell the man. He had a code of confidentiality like the doctors had, right?
"I remember something my sister showed me, a techie and all - you don't mind if I tell you a story anyway, no, probably would just give the wrong impression of me. So anyway, about lasers and all that - I remember that they can damage anything, given the fact that not even reflective substances are immune to them. What I'd want to make is a portable version of the cutting laser in the compactness of a laser rifle, probably powered by...the very reaction that powers stars.
"Aaaand now I'm being vague and idealistic again. Just...do you have instruments that can kill biological cells that is similar to a laser? As in compatible with a firing laser?"
Ask.
((Poorly rendered. ))
"What?" The doctor seems very confused.
Faith furrowed her brow. What a grim story. At least it'd distracted her long enough for her teeth to start their transformation into syringes or whatever.
Lay down, shut eyes. Attempt to calmly meditate.
Ninja'd:
((Piecewise writes such bright, happy, and optimistic worlds.))
I'll give her the DF/lovecraft story next if she keeps reading. After that I'll have to move into satire or something.
((Ooh. Well, now I have to keep reading. Just not yet.))
You close your eyes and lay down. Your jaw still hurts but it's going away. Something strange is replacing it; something very strange. It's almost like another sense or perhaps a heightening of the others? You rest your hand against your other arm and somehow know that there are wires in the flesh there running from the berzerk button up your arm. This is very odd.
Lars flopped against the door again. Well, this was going nowhere. Brain hurt, naptime.
Naptime! Take a nap in the middle of the hallway.
You scream "NAP TIME!" before slumping over, banging into the wall and collapsing into a nappy heap.
'Yay, another piece of alien to eat. Fucking wonderful. Bottoms up."
Eat flesh, then sit down. Try not to crush my heat exchange as I do so.
((Convinced my legs are going to rot off.))
You swallow the flesh and sit down. Your kick your legs back and forth for a bit, thinking that this is probably the last time you'll be able to do it. Oddly, your legs don't fall off, but they do start swelling a lot.
((That story made me feel all warm inside. Thanks, piecewise!))
Watch Derro. Keep my distance. Don't look away for anything.
You stare. You stare so hard. Your eyes hurt but you keep staring. STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE! He's acting a little weird but that might be because he has a weirdo staring at him.
"I might be doing this wrong."
Check my code to make sure I didn't introduce anything bad by accident (or design), like deleting files or something. If the code is clean, send a compiled version to everyone with the following text attached:
Trying to pass the time by writing a small game. Anyone want to test it and give feedback?
[aux:4+1]
Huh, it looks like you programmed the game to be perma-death, with only one life per game. Oh dear, how harsh.
"Nice job Jim. I've been itching to see that bastard cop something since he sack-whacked me. Cheers."
Grin a bit. Realize that a grin without two front teeth looks pretty stupid. Also realize it's not christmas, so it's probably best to fix that now. Go to the infirmary. Ask any doctors around if they could fix my teeth for me.
"Hey doc. What's the dental plan here like? Could you do something about this?"
Grin at doctor showing the missing teeth.
The doctors are nice enough to jam some fake teeth into your head and send you on your way, gums still bleeding.
A baker. One would wonder how she went from working with bakery to being a HMRC convict, but he was a farmer before being shipped off, so it was not exactly surprising people of all types ended up into that hellhole.
"Do you miss your former life?"
He asked it because he himself had his doubts when putting both lives in perspective; his former life was devoid of expectatives and motivations.
The young man had been helping his family in their land since his childhood, been given a small patch of land to take care of alone in his 15th birthday and was supposed to get married around his 20s, without much choice in the matters of who his wife would be - the families generally preferred others who lived near their plots to establish marriages.
Basically, he had been "saved" from his former melancholic life and put into a new, violent one where his survival wasn't very sure. The nagging in the back of his head came from part of him that said it had been a good experience...And that he could grow to like the situation, in some way.
Ask.
((Am I acting awkwardly enough in my conversations as Milno? ))
"I suppose, in a way. They were happy, simple days. Not sure how much is nostalgia though.There are things to be said about a mundane life, about stability and bloodless hands. But I am where I am and I've done what I've done and I can't honestly imagine what it would be like to not be here." She chuckles for a moment, "Actually, I'd be long dead. I guess, in a way..." she shakes her head. "Well, doesn't do to think too hard about it. We've got what we've got."
Follow May to her pet, sit down and continue writing. Eat as well.
"Did you ever do that thing with Renen, May?"
"No, I haven't really seen him. But he's being less rapey, so I guess it's ogay....though if you ever wanted to do anything like that..." >v<
Go back to the Armory Master. Request a steak.
The armory master gives you what looks like a shrink wrapped piece of raw meat. It's a little oddly shaped for steak.
Head back to the Barracks and up to Stacy.
I sorely hope that you have not distributed that file to any others, if it is what I think it is.
Simus hisses quietly at him.
((Considered getting my suit on and sealing myself into the airlock to look at the image, but then I remembered that effectively the only art Simus knows about aboard the ship was the psychotropic painting. Also, that her Will stat isn't terribly great and I don't want her to space herself with a bad roll.
Also, Harry, isn't that slightly meta, changing your action to completely ignore me after I post one with subtle overt comments about possible mugging? Your character couldn't even possibly know that Simus hadn't opened the attachment, much less possible plans.))
You poke your head into the barracks to reprimand the guy who sent you this but see Jim's rampage instead.
Pocketing the jerkey, Mesk is struck with sudden inspiration, and tries to remember what happens to his limbs when they're chopped off. Do they stick around? Once he's determined that, he puts the idea in the back of his mind and focuses on finding something to stand on.
Find something to stand on in order to gain access to the nearest ceiling vent.
Your limbs, when severed, just kinda sit there.
You think the closest vent you could easily access is the one in the barracks. You head there and get a good view of Jim hulking out on everything. Oh, well that complicates things.