"No, you only get to hold out one hand."
If she wants to play again, right, play again. Go Scissors this time.
She chooses rock.
"I feel as though this game might be a little unfair since you keep showing your hand first..."
((120 years is a lot of time for science to advance. If we ever dock at a decently developed planet, all of the convicts will be replaced with hyper-advanced super-competent cyborgs or something. Thuy tuuk our jobs!))
Well, the UWM does have a pretty heavy technology regulation system in place. Partially because of not wanting another altered war, partially to make sure the handful of worlds where they're the strongest stay the most advanced.
Go to a VR.
Plop myself down somewhere in the middle of the first American Civil War, with current Stats and Equipment.
Right in the middle of battle? Muskets might be crude but high speed lead is still effective.
"Young lady, I demand a fair fight, now shrink."
Disapproving tone.
She shrinks back down. Her head is now a Tiger head.
"RAWR RAWR GRRRR RAWR You're not very good at this RARWR"
((Ooo! Stick! I want the stick!
She was only the moonshiner's daughter, but I loved her still.
I would get the synthflesh dick legs, but they're too dangerous. Someone with those was doing kickbox sparring, and their partner left the ring cockeyed.))
And then toaster admits he wants my stick.
Listen man, You're cool and all but...well I'd have to ask the missus, ya know?
"Oh, it's all right. Don't mind that. I can switch to uncontrollable singing at any point, so don't you worry about me dying of exhaustion."
Switch to uncontrollable singing. Ask nurse in song about the Doctor. Anything particularly important I should know about him?
"Don't really think he'd like me gossiping about him."
((Better hope that either Disney starts revealing the new star wars film titles or Feyri starts moving again...))
((Someone kill me, or school work will. I collapsed yesterday in my room and actually left the laptop on because of fatigue... ;_;
Sorry Lenglon!!))
From here.
Feyri pondered on the response. How can something volatile--something dealing with evaporation at normal temperature and pressure--be so heavy? That would be very much a hassle given the requirements of someone using a jetpack.
"Did you mean Flammable, ma'am?" she replied, "As in, even our technology didn't think of fuel patches--something..convenient and practical?"
Inquire, then examine Lyra.
"It's a container of rocket fuel. Rocket fuel by it's very nature is volatile. Sorry, but the only way to fuel up one tank of rocket fuel is with another tank of rocket fuel. And that tank is a big, heavy, metal tank in order to stop said fuel from escaping."
Lyra looks like she'll do fine for the third in Jim's threeway.
(( Wait ...WTF!? Just what has happened? What kind of roll was that?))
Oh shit...
Get away from Bruce. Activate BT mode. Prepare to avoid any incoming atacks.
He wanted someone to punch. And I, being me, decided to have him punch the most deadly person in the area.
It was a "Piecewise not being evil roll" and you got a one. Because that die only has ones.
((If we have been active for 120 years then why haven't people died of old age? or is the timescale for us different than the rest of the universe?))
Time dilation and the effects of the jump technology. It's 120 objective years, but since the ship is moving at relativistic speeds a lot of the time, and losing anywhere from months to decades during jumps, subjective time is much less.
(That's more or less exactly what it is; IronyOwl drew it.)
What ever happened to Irony anyways? Did the demon of midterms/finals claim another victim?