I'll have another x-com journal soon. Long level this time, alien base.
Also, another stream on saturday. I'm working on streaming through vlc so that things aren't so terrible all the time.
Grab my monorazor, chop off my right hand. Once it's regrown, carry the severed hand around with me and slap people with it as I move to the back of the infirmity. Then finally have a talk with the Doctor about the limb animation.
The back of the infirmary is an entirely different area beyond the infirmary, a maze of doors and rooms hidden behind a locked door in rear of the infirmary.
A LOCKED door.
(I considered making you vomit it. Would be perfect, administering drugs and foam at once, but I figured the hand would let you get into harder to reach places.)
((Then you have Faith's thanks that you didn't try for the best of both worlds with a prehensile tongue-tentacle. ))
Faith's shoulders sagged a little. Not like he'd have taken her rant about how he shouldn't do that to people seriously anyway...
A defeated sigh escaped her lips as she returned to the barracks. Another followed at seeing them completely demolished.
She finally settled on sitting against the wall in the research area, less because she had anything whatsoever to do there and more because it was relatively private and everyplace useful was off-limits.
Go to research room. Start trying to familiarize self more with new senses, testing them on self.
You wander to the research room, drawing a few stares as you go. The man at the research kiosk notices you, and the fact that you're still just holding the front of your suit closed by hand, as you walk by.
"Decided to get something researched?" He says with a wink.
"You created the painting under the influence of Xenospit?"
"I created the painting after I had gotten back to normal. I merely painted the vision I had while under the influence. The painting itself was made while I was sober."
"Did the creature you saw attempt to speak with you? Did it say anything or communicate in any way?"
"I'm afraid not. It was far too large to notice me, I think. Even if it did, I doubt it could speak in any comprehensible way, being an unfathomable monstrosity that eats stars."
"Why did you create the painting?"
"Having nothing better to do around the creature in the vision, I memorized its features as well as I could. I believe I did so because of the games of memorization I was gently coerced into playing during the project I was enrolled in. Upon becoming sober, I felt that such memorization would be useless if I didn't commit the image to a medium of some kind."
"Why did you show it to others?"
"You see, I felt that the painting was inspired and masterfully crafted, if I may say so myself. Gazing at it myself, I was not aware of its unique properties. At first, I showed it off to showcase my technical proficiency and feel proud of myself. After the first violent episodes occurred, I left the painting near the armory kiosk all covered up, so that I may retrieve it later. I also chose to take the painting's picture because I feared that the piece may be destroyed by reactionary elements onboard the ship, a fear that later proved entirely justified. After the brief distraction with the wire problems, I had an idea - would the image still have its properties outside the physical medium it was originally painted on? So I showed the digital image to a person to check this idea and, upon finding out that it indeed had this effect regardless of the medium, chose to submit it for further research. Did I answer your questions satisfactorily? I can elaborate if you wish. I like to cooperate as well as I can."
"Do you still remember what you saw in detail? Could you reproduce a similar picture?"
Tinker with the game's code. Add a random level generator that creates (technically) beatable levels, for instance.
[aux:6+1]
You add a random level generator that actively changes the entire core mechanics of the game with each new level. One moment you're playing a top down shooter, the next you're playing scrabble, but with all the letters replaced with body parts and the goal to create a viable creature to use in a death match against an AI opponent.
It's all very odd.
Jim decided to give this Gorat guy a break and played the game that was sent to him, since he couldn't think of what to do with his metal for now.
[aux:2]
You fail to get past the first level. Past the first enemy in the first level.
((I am glad Faith is more or less normal. If only we talked more... ))
"Why are there Tesla Sabres but no Tesla Swords?" Feyri closed the manual and stowed it away in her safe place. "OK, fine, technically it is a sword..."
Talk to the AM, inquire why there are only Tesla Sabres and no other variation.
"Because it's not a sword? It's just a continuous electrical arc in a vaguely straight shape. What do you want? "
"Well. Thank you Doctor."
Swallow the final piece of tissue.
You swallow the last piece of tissue.
"Alright then." the doctor says, pointing to the door. "You can go."
Enter the tube. Start alterations.
You walk into the tube, the glass wall sliding silently aside to admit you then closing behind you. You press the button on the inside of the tube and small panels on the circular wall opposite the glass door slide open and robotic limbs fold out. A polite female voice begins speaking as a few of the limbs grab hold of you and roughly reposition you.
"The following procedure has a 17 percent mortality rate. Please make peace with your god of choice."
Oh dear.
Enquire about tactics.
"Hey, miss Armory Master? Why did you choose amps for your weapon of choice?"
"I was young and they gave me the chance to burn things with my mind."
She shrugs
"I wasn't exactly thinking long term career when I first came here."
Grab a drink of water to wash the taste of vodka out of my mouth. Do a basic sit-up/push-up/squats routine in the barracks. Count out each rep loudly and annoyingly in military fashion.
You drink from the sink and then do as many vaguely homo erotic exercise as possible.
[str:6]
You do squat thrusts like a champ. What kind of champ, we're not sure.
Milno remembered one of the questions he had almost forgotten, the one he was about to ask when he left to check on the battlesuit's features.
"How much subordination do you owe the ship and the HMRC if you actually decide to stay over ten missions? I guess you keep the spinal implant, but how about...you and the Doctor, for example?"
Ask.
"They remove the implants. We're basically just crew members. It's the same as if we were freed and then went and enlisted on our own. "
Brother Lars, after pondering a bit, realizes the obvious course of action. He leans over toward St. Milno and starts yelling at his Steve-datapad.
"O Lord Steve, may you find time in your divine acts to bless upon me a book of prayers!"
Pray loudly.
You pray loudly. Nothing happens. Awww.
Show him to the first person I come across.
You wander into the armory and shove the Basilisk into Feyri's face. It makes hissing noises at her.
The intercom speakers crackle and buzz for a moment before
>The Rec room is functional again. Try not to break it. Brother Lars' screams of pious joy can be heard throughout the ship. Simus's screams of VR addicted joy can be heard as well.