Good news, everybody! (I say that in the professor's voice from Futurama - it adds a note of foreboding) I haven't forgotten you after all.
If possible to accomplish without being totally decimated, head for the station, and ram it. Otherwise, try to ram the firebug.
((And thus ends my character, assuming I don't roll a 5, and maybe even then.
(6) You successfully reorient yourself toward the distant station, which is but a faint speck of light and shadow in the distance you begin heading that way. More debris clatters off your probe. An alarm beeps and a light flashes.
Fight the urge to just leave the area and never return. TURN. EVERYTHING. OFF.
(4) At last, you stand alone, in the dark, leg aching terribly, with naught but quiet around you. You take a moment to collect yourself. A tone announces that someone is at the door.
Keffit-Fum's strands felt odd. They were turgid and seemed like they would burst at any moment - an illusion, of course, but hopefully one that would not persist.
Okay, re-enter data for the project. Former lichens, right? Keep them in a nutritious (though not over-saturated) atmosphere, increase protein content, that sort of thing. No soil required.
(1) ... The lichens you seek will require several months to breed from existing stocks. In fact, stocks are low. To get sufficient numbers will require several generations (lichen generations, not your generations).
((Another 6? =.=))
I chirp in short angry bouts as I try to pull myself out of the dishwasher. If my translator collar was activated it would have came out as multiple strings of alien obscenity. "Blasted faulty machinery, causing so many problems..." (Though it likely is my own damn fault)
Attempt to dislodge self out of dishwasher
(1) you remain firmly lodged, and have broken something. Oh, it must have been a water nozzle, as you are now being wetted down thoroughly in the midregion.
Smell it.
(1) you get some in your nose. It blocks off your air passage and you can't smell anything at all. At least nw you know it is more liquid than solid.
Grab the corpse and attempt to point the silly people in the right direction for lunch.
(3 vs 1) you manage to liberate your companion from the caretakers. Now, which way was lunch again?
(6 v. 6) you also maintain your grip on the two curators you have thoughtfully gathered to yourself. The dance continues!
(1) the sirens seem to fade a little.
Explain that I'm more like a tree with a horde of bugs serving it.
(5) you and your new companion have a cheerful discussion of the workings of your species. He seems fascinated by your podlings. He offers one a candy.
((that was a painful run of 1s. Oh well, at least B1Gii lives a little while longer, due to misjudging the distance to the station.))
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Topic: Roll to Alien (Read 45340 times)