Jack Scramble's remaining equipment.
Jack appears not to have anything left on him that isn't currently being fought over by two mutants.
"Uh... you killed him, so you should get the bigger share. I'll just take two, shall I?"
Let Cog take three tokens.
"Nope. My tokens. Unless you want to fight over them?"
Take all of the tokens, then drag the corpse to the medbay.
[mesk str:4]
[cog str:6]
Cog lifts mesk into the air by the wrist and proceeds to shake him vigorously while screaming, "NOPE NOPE NOPE!"
"Thank you, holy Steve."
Huh. The AM should know, but he could ask her later.
Keep reading!
"Emar-i: God of Medicine. Emar-i the fleshwalker, Emar-i the Seer."
The picture page holds the image of a man, dressed in what look like stylized and very ornate, almost monastic, scrubs, complete with face mask and rubber gloves. He has a third eye in the center of his forehead and is holding a scalpel. The symbol under the picture is a simple drawing of a pupilless eye.
"Emar-i is head and Progenitor of the medic pantheon, father of all it's members. He has domain over all flesh, knows the cause and cure of all sickness, and the treatment of all injuries. His symbol, placed upon the palm of a practitioner,grants that worshiper supernatural diagnostic prowess. When placed on the tools of a practitioner they will never fail, grow dull or malfunction, assuming the practitioner still holds the god's favor. May be placed on the patient as well, to safeguard their recovery.
Emar-i's favor is granted to those who practice medicine proficiently and do not ineptly injure or kill their patients."
((@Remalle: Orly?))
Milno sighs and gets out of VR, deciding to ask the AM some more questions to pass the time, taking a look at the rec room beforehand to check how the crazymen tournament's preparations are going.
With live weapons, rules about no perma-killing were probably expected to be broken, he supposed, and the amount of meaningless deaths - out of a mission, for a change - would probably be amusing.
When he gets to the rec room, he stumbles onto a scene of Cog and Mesk with their hands tangled inside a dead man's pocket. He shrugs and moves on to the armory. "Have fun molesting corpses."
He gets to the armory booth to ask the armory master about what she apparently likes the most: equipment.
"Is there any set of optics or cameras that have most of the cam-eyes features but do not get your eyes removed?"
Ask.
The armory master shrugs. "You could just use cam-eyes, but not actually stick them in your head. Just wire them up to feed into your faceplate."
((Since I'm guessing Floki is staying dead... (I wasn't sure if PW was perhaps planning for him being revived with extensive brain damage, thus starting a running joke of me having hilariously stupid characters 
) Fresh meat!))
Name: Jobasio Hootzal
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Appearance: Of middling height, pale-skinned and lean to the point of gauntness, Jobasio's only major similarities to his unknown half-brother Charro are his jet-black hair, piercing green eyes and a certain resemblance of facial features.
Where Charro was overbearing and prideful in manner, Jobasio is far more reserved, furtive and wary in his expressions. He still has the smug self-assurance of the Hootzal line, however...
Personal information: When then-governor Garlack Hootzal (at that time lacking any legitimate children) discovered one of his many good-looking serving maids had become pregant from his illicit, extramarital romping, he simply took his usual course of action and had her sent away to one of the outlying worlds in the sector, supplied with some menial job and enough money to supposedly support her child.
Jobasio was born into a hard life on an industrial world, and spent his childhood in a shoddy metal shack with his mother in the sprawling shanty town around the walls of a factory. He was put to work there, same as any other, manning the machines used to assemble vehicles and press jam jars due to his lack of physical strength.
His mother, Lyllen, who was losing her eyesight to her own job at a sewing bench, fully intended to keep the boy's origins a secret from him until one fateful day when she began drowning her sorrows in liquor.
As she descended into alchoholism, she couldn't help but spill the beans to the shocked Jobasio, who swiftly developed a dark hatred for those who had stolen his legacy from him. He had always known he was meant for better things than this life of slavery at the factory.
He didn't see any possible means to change his fate, though, and so he settled into his miserable life. He grew more and more distant from his fellow workers, becoming introverted and amusing himself by crafting small gadgets and basic robots from the spare parts discarded from the factory machines. He also wrote several cheap datapads worth of sappy poetry and violent, cathartic re-writes of classic children's tales, signing them as Jobasio von Hootzal. In fact, he adopted the name exclusively from then on, abandoning his mother's surname of Elm.
When he was three years of age, his mother learned of the birth of Garlack Hootzal's first legitimate heir- Charro. Years later, Jobasio would come to understand this and hated the half-brother he had never met with a passion. When, around his 21st birthday, he saw the broadcast of his father's execution and his brother's unusual fate, the hate-filled young man rejoiced. Yes! Now he was the heir to his cruel father's fortunes!
He would finally get out of here! He composed several long-winded messages to the Magisters to this effect, and borrowed his mother's meagre savings to fund his trip to planet Hootzal. On his way to the spaceport, however, he was confronted by agents of the Magistration. They didn't want another Hootzal maniac ruling a sector.
They decided to deal with this illegitemate upstart in the same way they had the ex-Governor's true heir- chuck 'em in the HMRC and forget about him. He was dragged, kicking and screaming useless threats, into a stasis pod...
Reason assigned to HMRC: Attempting to claim inheritance of his father's(Garlack Hootzal's) empire upon the latter's execution.
Stats:
Str: 0
Dex: 10
End: 1
Cha: 2
Int: 6
Wil: 1
Skills:
Speech: 0
Intuition: 1
Handiwork: 0
Conventional Weapons: 3
Unconventional Weapons: 0
Exotic Weapons: 0 (-1 to rolls)
Auxillary Systems: 1 (+1 to rolls)
Medical Tech: 0
Profession: Grunt (+1 to Aux, -1 to Exotic Weapons)
Another hootzal eh? They sure have some bad luck. Looks good to me.
If I might ask, why? It's not like we're going to need to use swords anytime soon...
What are the exact rules, though? And is Jim in on it?
Oh, Jim is in on it. =)
Though, we won't be participating - anyone with less than 50%...humanity is not eligible for joining, I'm afraid to say. Meaning no robots.
Also, those swords are just the equivalent of any improvised weapon on the field. Unless you'd want unarmed combat?
(I think it's funny that Feyri is looking at this tournament as a team-building exercise while Jim's just being a ruthless capitalist. XD Anyway, could everyone who's in/wants to be in the tournament send me a PM about it? It's easier for me to keep up with that than repeatedly trawl the thread looking for sign-ups. ^^^; Thanks in advance.)
(("But it is team building!" Also, if you're in need of any help, tell me! D:))
Approach May.
"Hello May, I have information about your Basilisk that I think you may want to know of."
Also, browse the manual the AM gave me - looking up anything that could help me in a field situation when armed with only a sword.
((Oh, just remembered. Tiriun, weren't you looking for a corpse?))
((Me and Feyri are too busy being squicked out to learn what the Doctor does to corpses. Do with it as you will, the last thing I'm expecting in a neutral fashion is you gifting me something.
Also, it's TIRUIN XD))
How do you pronounce my name anyway?
"A field situation" is a bit vague. Also the manual is written for a time when bows and arrows are the high tech long range weapon so it might be a bit out of date for offering tactical assistance.
((I thought I specified training swords. Nonsharp. Nonfatal. No game overs for either opponent so I didn't need to reset.))
Reset simulation, same parameters (but with actual training swords this time!), and open with a slash to the opponent's non-dominant side, going up through the shoulder.
(ok. Replace the cutting with it bludgeoning your windpipe and smashing your trachea.)
[dex:5]
[dummy dex:3]
[str:2]
You whack the dummy in the shoulder, sliding the blade up and into the side of his head. He doesn't really seem too bothered by it.
Aw, don't feel bad. Cog's a lot less than 50% human, and he's participating.
((I pronounce it Tiroowin.))
((Irony got it right. ))
Ohhh, Cog.
Hmm, aren't you participating? I'm actually rooting (is this the right word?) for you or Milno to join in, but then it seems I can't find the lad anywhere.
Also, don't get pets from the Doctor. It's made out of people.
I always pronounced it Tie-ruin. And Feyri like "Fairy" but with a bit of a speech impediment.
A man just got killed over a TV remote. It really makes you appreciate the meaning of life.
Keep sipping. Ponder who the dead man might have been.
[intuition:4-2]
You take a sip. Fuck if you know.
((Thanks for the pronunciation guys. 
))
I'm really thinking about it, but Cog has me worried. I don't know if I can beat him.
...though I guess my odds are better than 1:15, so mathematically I suppose it makes sense to try.
...except he's fighting over a corpse in the rec room. Still trying to figure out what's up with that.
Oh, and as for the Doctor: Doesn't surprise me. Er, you mean people parts, right? That basilisk wasn't a crewmate before being transformed whole, right?
Did you know Cog was a homicidal maniac now? He's ranting about crushing a man's head like a tomato and how he can take gauss rounds.
I'm not so sure I want to fight him without a kinetic amp anymore, tournament or no.
Did I forget to say that equality will be present? Hmm, good point.
I'll ask Steve if there are...uncompensators, like those decompensators. Like...weights?
Anyway, he's the Doc's work I bet. Like the Devil's deal...only we don't know what he sold for it. And I've the impression the Doctor is building a secret abomination in his secret place. :/
Thanks for the heads-up Faith. I knew I could trust you.
"Hey Steve! For the tourny, to equalize the competition, can you install temporary uncompensators in...people like Cog, if they want to participate? Their strength advantage and any mutagenic properties do not bode well for his competition."
STEVE!
>What would be the fun in that?((I have 5 tokens left after the tournement yeah))
To the armoury, buy a crystaline projector.
You buy yourself a crystalline Projector.
It's not that way. But it is close, hum....
Try to focus on the environment, see things slowly and with more details.
You focus on the floor. The world speeds back up to normal and stays that way.
"Not getting involved. I don't have any money, anyway."
Watch them bicker. If one of them kills the other, ask for an arm. If not, go back to May.
You watch the bickering. It looks like cog may be giving you that arm soon, much to mesk's detriment.
Gorat flees the scene of the carnage after paying Jim the entry fee to the tournament. "Can you message me when you guys start?"
Go to the barracks. Take the back-up code for my game, back it up again, and add a difficulty choice to the game. Use the current difficulty as Standard, then add Challenging and Easy mode with appropriate changes.
[aux:5+1]
You increase the difficulty, lock it on hard, and then punch yourself in the face. FUCK YES I AM THE BEST PROGRAMMER!
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