Keffit-Fum evaluates his adequacy and efficiency, and is dissatisfied. A few twitches of the strands later, he knows what the collective requires.
Obtain Former-grown computer manual - the computer should be able to create one on demand by budding if it is of proper design, yes?
(6) The display dims ... the casing quivers ... a bud sprouts! and another! and another! It looks like the manual is exhaustive ... One bud develops rather rapidly, while the others remain small and closed. Formor lettering appears on the spine of the rapidly growing bud, which claims to be the "basic" manual and index to the larger manual. (+1 to all Formor computer rolls with access to the manual and sufficient time.) Now, to bud some shelves to store these ... when they are complete. It appears that you may have some time on your hands to familiarize yourself with the manual, as the computer seems quite intent on this task. This could take a while ...
"Good. Now that that's settled, I need to rest my leg for the night. I probably should not even be standing here right now, should I want it to heal quickly."
Bid her adieu and retire to bed.
(6) As you gesture toward your leg, wobbling a bit with the resurgence of the pain, Ms Calum notices at last your injuries, both leg and hand. She squawks a little, turns her head to the side and emitted a high, keening sound for several seconds. Then she turns back to you and bustles into your living room, taking you firmly by the (uninjured) arm, and carefully but firmly leading you to your room. In short order, you are surrounded by the members of her clan, all chirping and chittering amongst themselves, in low and melodic fashion, as they wash, undress, and deposit you into bed, whether you want their help or not. Soon, you are warm and cozy, but surrounded by this clan, who seem in no hurry to leave. Even Ms. Calum's children must be present, as the sound of infants fussing is apparent, though not loud and piercing as it might have been. A low, rhythmic melody arises from the clan, and the infants seem mesmerized .... as do you.
Continue with docking procedures, then get out sadly.
You'd best be happy I'm not quite devoted enough to wanton destruction to try and ram the ship.
(5) You dock smoothly, and mope your way out of the ship. your escorts are there to greet you, and they bustle you into the laser control room, where you are greeted by the glow of computer screens filled with targeting, heating, cooling, focusing, power input and output, and other information. The thrill of
Fire beckons.
Wipe the goop out of my nose
(3) you manage to clear your sinuses, mostly ... the sticky scent of the purple stuff lingering. Suddenly, you notice how very drowsy you are ... surely, if you just curl up in the shallower part of the goop, which is strangely warm and inviting, no harm could befall ... just for a moment ...
Make every effort not to damage the poor innocent corpsey. THAT OFFICER IS QUITE A BRUTE!
((So anyone think their situation is weirder then mine? 
))
(3) you release the corpse and begin disentangling the others (6) but you find yourself more and more restrained as you do so. You notice that this is due to a strange, whitish substance now coating your arms and legs, and to several shiny new bracelets on your wrists, which seem to be drawing your arms together. Soon you, and several of the other ... wrestlers? I guess? ... are rather immobile. A small squad of (5) well, you recognize them to be police officers, haul you into the back of a large shuttle, locking you inside, along with the curators, and one or two aliens you don't recognize. Sadly, the corpse is no longer in your company. Happily, you still have many friends about to cheer you up, which they seem intent on doing!
That certainly seems an extraordinary tale. How have you been getting on in the station?
You and EeOon pass the evening in pleasant, though often confusing, conversation. The as the time passes, the conversation becomes somewhat sporadic, before falling silent completely, as Mr Oon appears to have fallen asleep beneath your branches.
Wake up from accidentally falling asleep upside down on the ceiling.
(You wil awaken next round. Be prepared with an action to start your new day.)
PSIONIC HIM IN THE BRAINMEATS.
(4 v. 6) You glare hostilely at your captor, and he stares back. you spread your psionic senses and seek to invade his mind. This is easier thought than done, and he seems resistant. He shudders once, and appears to come to his senses, covering your container with some opaque drapery. This battle has left you drained. You cannot tell whether you sleep or not ....
The day ends. Sleep shift begins, and lighting around many parts f the station dim automatically in imitation of the more common circadian cycles. Elsewhere, activity continues unabated, as some awake, some depart from work for leisure, and some continue the tasks at hand, whether due to different rhythms or to the pressures of station life.
Author
Topic: Roll to Alien (Read 45283 times)