Carry all that good stuff to whatever we'll be using as our transport this fine day. Consult Steve if needed. Then return to the jolly band of misfits and boogeymen. Strap self into a pod if needed, 'cause this is gonna be fun.
One man podded.
Gorat watches after Stacy hauling off his orders. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. And if I wanted, I wouldn't get an answer. So I won't ask. Anyway, thanks, officer." He nods to the Armory Master, Milno, and Pancaek and goes back to the rec room.
Turn on the TV if it's off, light a normal cigarette.
So, coward, hypocrite, and bad judge of circumstances. Anything else I should add to that list?
You sit down in front of the tv and light a cigarette. Javis IV's funniest home holocubes is on. Some guy just got hit in the groin. By a bullet train.
"I feel as though there's been some level of escalation since I last watched this." You mutter to yourself as you blow smoke rings at the ceiling.
"I see, thanks for the info"
He leaves the armory and heads for the Lab
"Hey, do you people have anything to upgrade or augment or otherwise be useful to a robo-body?"
ask lab boys
((Oh man, robo-body-GET imminent. No more bleeding, getting tired or feelings ever again. By the way PW, just out of curiousity, how long until someone with a full robo-body dies of "old age"? also, what would the stat/roll effects of that "nimbleness" upgrade be?))
The guy at the desk scrunches his face up in thought for a moment.
"Yeah...we got some things, any sort of particular thing you're looking for? Because those guys just like sticking self destruct systems in everything. I think they have a rather martyr heavy view of bravery, if you know what I mean."
"...After we completed the previous mission, I've been thinking. That ghost ship... it's not so different from me. Out of many, there was one ghost ship; and out of one colonist, many clone soldiers. Both are merely viewed as tools to fight whatever they're told to, with no care for their well-being... only if they go rogue. We're less than human."
Jim sighed.
"And now that I'm in this body and not that one, I'm closer than ever to that ghost ship. And I'm worried. Is my brain accessible like the ghost ship's? Is it possible someone could delete my memories, my personality, everything that makes me... an individual?"
He rubbed his forehead, taking a few steps away from his opponent.
"And I'm also afraid... that maybe losing my humanity wouldn't be a bad thing, that individuality is a burden. Humans are weak creatures. They do feel fear, and pain, and hate, and anger. They're blinded by their own judgements and opinions, unable to keep sight of the bigger picture or think logically."
Jim turned back to Jim.
"So this is what I wanted to ask a computer speaking through the filter of how it views 'me.' Why shouldn't I discard my humanity? What benefit is there to persisting in the foolish notion that I can be human too? In short, why shouldn't I rip your limbs off and beat your face into pulp with them?"
Talk with Simulated Jim.
"You speak of humanity as a commodity which can easily be discarded, a bauble you can cast aside of your own volition. A rather egotistical idea, to be honest. Humanity is not something that can be done away with voluntarily anymore then it may be gained voluntarily. And if you would say it is, then I ask you this. Why can you not bring yourself to hurt that woman you associate with. She is weaker then you; protecting her will put you in harm's way. Destroy her and you will be unbound. Can you do that?
Can you slit the throat of a man begging for his life? Can you rape a child? Can you cut the flesh from a woman's face and force her to eat it? Could you breathe in the funeral pyres of everyone you've ever known and cast the bloated, pale bodies of the innocent into mass graves? Could you do all that and do it unimpassionately, simply because it would cause a slight increase in the chance of something positive happening? No matter how disillusioned you have become, I doubt you could.
What you are feeling here is self pity. Pity over the strangely human division of that which is produced by nature and that which is produced artificially. You are the clone of another man. So what? Human twins are genetically identical; is one a false being, not truly human? Which one? And if twins are each "True" humans, individuals, why not are artificial twins? Clones? The end result is the same, even if the processes are different. To think otherwise is to be blinded by baseless feelings of organic superiority. Nature is no more or less real or valid then the artifice of man. They are simply two things which are.
So, like it or not, your humanity is not something you can cast off voluntarily. It is a blessing and a curse you must bear, for yourself and for the sake of the equally flawed but worthwhile individuals you share your burden of service with. Do not let yourself wallow in this self loathing for long, for these are not times where selfishness can be tolerated. You still have work to do, Jim. Work only a man, a human, can do; and they shall need you more in the coming days then they have ever needed you before.
You could chose to disappoint them and follow this misguided path of fear and indecision, but I would wager that you will not."
Of course we are. Awesome.
To the armory! Obtain an microwave manipulator, a toolbox, and a pain killer.
(( Yes, cause I won't destroy that scout eye within 5 seconds of trying to use it. And it reminds me of quite a few revolutions involving a lack of food or an increasing price of food. Quite a lot. ))
You load up on supplies at the armory and get ready to get podded. Or you get podded. Which ever makes more sense.
((Hell yeah I'd like in on this mission. Fuck no Faith's not gonna like this mission. ))
Faith sighed dejectedly, which was to say she made a dejected sighing noise while her faceplate turned to :C
"Steve, any more estimates on what we can expect? Something based on recent history perhaps?
Also do they have any long-term plans? An idea of how this is supposed to play out over the next year?"
Then it was off to find someone questionable.
Ask Steve. Try to find The Doctor.
>You remember when you went to that colony with the sharkmist-as you call it-and it looked like a riot and lots of murder had happened sometime in the past? Imagine if you had got there a bit earlier.
>Negotiations for trading for food are underway. They assume that there will be a period of unrest between when supplies run out and when new supplies can be procured. A few months at worst, they assure us.
You head to the infirmary and look for the doctor. You can't find him, though you do find Maurice standing around, wearing a labcoat similar to the doctor's. He waves.
May eventually stopped, backing up and putting her shirt back on correctly. "We will attend to this further later, but right now I have urgent tasks at hand."
Go to the Armory Master. Trade in MKI for an MKII, use tokens to pay for the difference in price.
Ask the AM if she has any non-lethal weaponry for riot control, flashbangs, teargas.
Ask for a Megaphone.
Also Ask if she has any Riot Shields, or at least some kinds of shields.
((Edited; figured it wasn't good manners to kill teammates before we get on the ground.))
((Thankies, didn't want to end up with a player-killed May! Haha. Because then May Version 2 would have come on-board and switched the anatomical position of your eyes and testicles whilst you were still breathing.
The reason for May's current behavior is that she still has Elizas's sex drive, but that was being sedated for a while by Thomas, since they frequently had sex everywhere around the available interior of the ship. EVERYWHERE. Though lately, Thomas has been caught up with other business and not able to attend to May's needs. Thus, she feels the need to look for new available sexual partners.
If someone is willing to man-up they can function as May's outlet for the duration of this mission until it's over. Feyri could easily take the job, but she doesn't seem to be willing to take the position, especially to fill her other jobs. It wouldn't take much, just a quick riding for 10-15 minutes every once in a while. I mean, there are worse things to happen than having to plunder a busty pale girl every now and then.
In a more serious and practical light, how do you guys feel about May being the Loudspeaker of the group, continually barking at the rioting crowds via some voice amplification device and threatening them if they step out of line? I remember a while back, that not only does May have a slight speech bonus, she has a definite +1 bonus whenever Intimidating anyone if she utilizes her most creepy Uncanny Valley voice.))
MK II and Megaphone procured. Riot shields are available for cheap(2-3 tokens). Anti-riot gear is gonna vary. Tear gas and flash bang grenades you can get in packs for cheap, though launchers for them will be more expensive.
Utilize on all available persons above the age of 13.
((Oh, good.))
-----
"Suits? What suits are we wearing? What's Miss May doing to Miss Feyri? Is Miss Feyri okay? Why are we hurting the people and not giving them food? Why don't we move everyone from the desert to a nice place? Why don't the people move? What happened to all the water? Is there going to be a water shortage, too? Why are the people revolting? What are we doing again? Why do we sound like the bad guys? Is Miss Feyri okay? Will Miss May be coming with us?" (Breathe) "Can I get a retraining order* to keep Miss May away from me? Why are we helping the king guy? Shouldn't we be helping the peasant people? Do the kings have guns? Are the guns scary? Who has more guns? Will we have guns? Will I get a gun? Can someone teach me how to use a gun? What's a Molotov cocktail? Why will people throw drinks at us?" (Breathe.) "When will we be back? Will Mr. Jim be here? Is Mr. Jim coming with? Are these other people coming who I don't know more like Mr. Jim or like Miss May? Do I get armor? Is there a swimming pool where we're going? I always wanted to swim in a swimming pool. Where will we be sleeping?" (Breathe.) "I'm hungry and thirsty. Can I pretty please have a cookie and something to drink?"
Be extremely inquisitive.
*Restraining order, but it's something that Grate has only heard of a few times long ago.
>I really can't hear you when you talk in that high pitched voice. Maybe Feyri can understand you though.go to the Armory, place three tokens on the counter, and point at the microwave amp entry on the price list
EDIT:
Also point out a can of spraypaint, and return the book of short stories to the AM
the above actions are of course to be done after Feyri finishes talking.
Done and done.
While I meant you could do the killing, I suppose you don't have any weapons under planet killing capacity, and for some reason the things that litter the planet don't see the benefit to embracing their natural state. None of them are innocent.
Adopt zealot expression with dead eyes.
>Aren't we an angsty little thing.Cecil seems to have finally figured out just what the christ is going on.
"Oh... oh my. I seem to have been afflicted with a bit of a bug... Computer, could you please report to me on my file? And just what in blue blazes is goin' on?"
>That makes two of us. Please reword your request.Stuff edited out because argh. This post used for Feyri's actions.
Inventory Check.
There are inquiry-type actions in my post below, Piecewise. Thanks!
Feyri
+1 intuition, con, str, uncon
-1 Handi,exotic,
-2 med
1/3 Dex, End, will,Aux
Tesla Sabre 4:35/5:00
Gauss rifle [9/10](scoped with barrel) (+1 medium -1 short)(+1 long if scope is used)
Digital zoom 1-10x
Arming sword (str 10 needed, +2 to str when hittin if str requirement is met.)(Mark of Vo-nos)
Metal shield.
Medieval combat manual.
Laser rifle 30/30
laser rifle battery
MK III
2 token
Feyri felt a sigh escape her as May moved on. The scenario was so...out of place, that she didn't know what to react with--given that she was in her casual wear and not her MKIII, it was even worse--though, the mission briefing sprang back into mind given her previous training. She was glad for things like that when they blanket out other...things.
"Alright, for starters: I'm Feyri Nirel. Our mission goes along the terms of us being shock troopers. While I don't know many of you, we're all in this together. One slip up, and we'll be regarded as a whole to the populace. Our client--the leader of Inti--is supposedly a fanatical God-concept, something I know well. He'll consider us as tools, pawns and only implements to further his will; I suggest that we communicate with him only when necessary.
"But first things first. Our weapon of choice is information. The food stores are meandering by the calculated drop point, so I hereby ask all of you, all of you, to focus on getting information from our objectives: the people, and the authorities. Find out what you can from both sides, whether low-caste or higher. Why a civil war occurred, and why the scorched earth campaign--it would obviously damage the economy as well as society, so that's our first priority. Because I'm quite planning us all to split up into teams of three in order to fulfill such a message. Bring pepper spray, and smoke grenades as well as something to hasten escape--or at least something that'd make you more presentable to said castes, just for that measure. It's better to prepare before rather than blindly follow in.
"We do not kill innocents. Remember that. Conceal or lock any weaponry, and only draw and fire when the time calls our for it. Even though we may be employed based on our (ridiculously stupid) reputation, I'd like a show of civility here (please?)."
She ruffled Grate's hair after delivering that speech, letting in the silence take over as she looked at the kid, smiling. "Don't think too much about what May did, Grate. She's just a bit..needy. Keep close to that person," she pointed at Lyra, "and trust those around you. We're in this as a team, and I'd like it to go as smooth as possible."
Ask Steve: "What caste system exists, and how do we discern how people treat each other in said caste: Are there any restrictions for those within the different castes? And what castes exist?
"For foreign folk like us, how do all castes, as well as authority figures, view us, from your perspective?"
>It's the standard one the crops up almost everywhere such things exist. Top caste of rulers and nobles as blessed or divine. Spend most of their time eating dates in the shade and being fanned my attractive, young, naked members of whatever sex they desire. Then you have the upper caste of skilled and learned; a rather inbred cabal of doctors and scientists whose careers were decided by linage rather then skill. Then the Middle caste of tradesman, who know just enough to perform their various technical duties without endangering the upper classes with undue learning. Then the low caste of laborers and the lowest, those who do the worst jobs, the homeless, the diseased and crippled.
In your case, I'm not entirely sure. Although to be honest, I would expect that none of the classes will accept you as their own. The upper will view you as lower beings and the lower will view you as being higher then them, but still being servants to their masters. Or maybe you'll be lower then the low demons that the godking summoned to patrol his palace. I am unable to accurately predict their views. Don't expect friends though."Growing crops or killing things? Because I think I'm a bit rusty on the former." Milno answers lightheartedly, taking a moment to think about what exactly he should do with his life if he actually managed to get the ten missions done. To be honest, when he was shipped off to the HMRC he had little to no of survival; in fact, getting the first mission done was probably what made him wake up and start fighting, so to speak. "You know, after someone finishes their ten missions, do they have to be extremely powerful to be accepted as a worker here?"
Answer.
"Well, we'll worry about that when the time comes." She says, "I'll take care of you, if you manage to survive till the end."
After a few moments of apprehensive hesitation, Thomas clicks the links, most of them, at least.
Both pro and anti substance abuse.
Their arguments can best be described as "Hollow fear mongering and social conservatism in the face of personal liberty and, often, demonstrable fact." and "WOAAAAAH DUDDDDE!"