I'd like to see some kind of survival mission for the next mission, but not a team survival. Maybe instead of working together, we could be in some kind of Free-For-All survival: There would be motives to actively seek out and kill other players, and the map area would be large, but there would also be natural hazards trying to exterminate the player.
A large dangerous arena? Sounds good to me.
((I'd like to do Galactic Adventure, what with John's relevance to the subject material, but I appreciate you might not want to start a campaign before this one is over...))
It's not a problem for me, if that is what you want. That campaign is smaller than the current one, so unless you take a really sideways path, it should be about 1-2 years long, by my estimate.
((Oh goodness I just read up. Congrats Parisbre for that whole thing there c: Good work on personal excellence! [But your supervisor is also a person and isn't a jerk. Work with them as buddies maybe? 
]))
Thank you. And don't worry, I'm just joking. He's actually a cool guy and he's teaching me a lot of things and helping me.
((The urge to expose Artemis to a hefty dose of Alan increases every tine I see him.))
Now and then, everybody needs a hefty dose of Alan.
((Next mission... next mission...))
((Some sort of Wacky Death Race thing with our characters being the drivers?))
((Or another team-based objective thing. Choose three rather powerful characters, the older sorts, and allow them to pick who they want their teams to be from the rest... then some sort of capture the flag game?))
Hm. Could do that. Only problem I see is that some characters might be really ill equipped for such a race. Need to come up with a balanced vehicle creation system. Or a balanced vehicle generation system based on characters? I'd need to think about it for a bit.
Sure. Could do that. A standard assault mission, like the first one. If we go with that, I'll do what I did the first mission, ask you to give me a bunch of words or concepts and try to come up with a fun mission/story based on them.
Am I in this game?
It's been so long...
Your character is in my notes. So yes.
Sorry.
If you are, it's certainly not recorded in the OP.
Don't trust the OP. It lies.
Mostly because I haven't updated it in forever.
Could I recieve a PM for my character? Quoting the sheet here so nobody has to search for it again.
Oh, and congratulations on the job!
Name: Brian Hoss
Ability: The creation and manipulation of unstable vortexes that consume energy(Preferably light and heat).
Apperance: Thin, and pale as a ghost. He has dark brown hair and eyes. If his face were any thinner, most people would make the mistake of thinking he was undead.
Bio: Brian was born on Earth with modern technology. He is 24 years old. He discovered his power when he was 21, and has only used them frivolously. He rarely shows anger or sadness.
So, he basically just creates dark cold holes on things?
Sorry if I have asked this again in the past.
Anyway, if those are our suggestions, I guess it's time to have a vote!
((I've got a bad feeling about this guy))
switch to a psychic assault now, figure it won't be too effective, but who knows.
It is indeed not very effective. It's like trying to cut a hot knife with butter. For a moment it's almost as if there's nothing there beyond weak, barely "audible" thoughts and echoes of thoughts. Then in the next moment the horrible dark echo there cuts through your attack, striking directly at you. You'd find it difficult to describe the sensation. The closest description you could find is that it's as if the psychic energy extending out of your mind was detonated, the fire spreading to your brain. You stumble and shake your head, trying to ignore the pain. That is all the time he needs for a strike. His hand strikes your torso and then exits, quick as a cat. You have a moment to identify a kidney and part of your intestine before losing consciousness.
Team A, WMD
Can I go boom now? If not, more charging.
Rods of light rain down around you, getting embedded on the floor and burning it slightly. They kinda look like swords.
About 20 seconds left.
The man that until recently was in a wheelchair is now standing, holding someone's internal organs in his hand, looking at you with black eyes with square red pupils. Shadowy distortions extend from him, making the part of the room behind him look quite darker. You can see his skin is starting to crack and what was left of his hair is starting to fall.
Do you have any idea? Anything you could do except hope to get really really lucky? Because I don't. I can't think of anything.
Campaign
"AAAAAaaaaaAAAAAaaaaaAAAAAA!"
Defensive stance! Tsar my armour! Check if I still have my sword!
You armour expands, covering every inch of you. And by that I mean
every inch of you.
You are now trapped inside what is basically a metal
box statue. This should at least give you a second to breathe, until they break through it or find another way to attack you or you run out of air.
You hear the sound of metal striking metal, painfully loud in your ears, amplified by the enclosed space. They're certainly not wasting any time with their attacks.
Although I'm kinda stiff at first from the sudden hug, I lean into it after a moment and just let it continue as long as Theri wants it to.
Theri continues the hug and doesn't withdraw, feeling completely at ease with her environment of the moment. She dwells on the current mission objective and what she can best think up during the time being, thankful for moments of peace like these.
Well, not much has changed since you arrived to this place. The objective is still the same. Find the being River wants to kill and help him kill it. You got a possible location for your target in the eastern mountains, but not much more.
Unless you mean the more immediate objective of "hide in the basement until the soldiers pass". Said objective might be hard to complete now, with what's happening to Nikolai. Not that you can know much about Nikolai's current situation IC. Not much more than the fact that something is probably wrong with him, given his previous psychic screams and swearing.
I stay as I am and wait, closing my eyes.
You relax in Theri's warm embrace.
((I have no idea what the hell just almost happened but now I'm morbidly curious.))
Try again; summon sock puppets for the kids to make their own characters.
((Every time I roll for you, I keep fearing that this is going to be the turn I'll have to describe a family getting brutally crushed under tons of sock puppets. Or worse.))
You summon all the perfectly good sock puppets a child could want. The good kind, not the extra itchy ones made with lead-based paint and asbestos and decorated with shaving razors.
The boy picks up a sock and tries to imitate you. From what you understand from his limited vocabulary, he is pretending that the sock represents his dad, going around being heroic.
The rest are probably not going to participate, considering one is an infant and the other appears to not be very happy, not in the mood for playing. She seems to be dividing her attention between staring at you like you're about to explode and making sure her infant daughter is fine.
Campaign, Ike!
Must be slick, must be slippery, must be smooth!
Keep on sneaking in the free world. Avoid flashbacks to driving sections previously experienced.
Ike likes to sneak, maneuver silken and sleek...
Just in case NAV decides to turtle up and you manage to get there undetected, the plan is still "stabby stabby in the back"? Nothing changed?
((This is mainly gonna be more fluff than anything.))
Zechariah kept to his own corner of the room, observing the others. Mostly, however, he seemed to be spacing out. His mind was elsewhere.
There he appeared again. Artemis Dimikaelo stood with his back against the wall opposite from Zechariah. Of course, Artemis was just an apparition - a construct devised by Zechariah's mind as a combination of both Zechariah's previous experiences with Artemis sharing the same body as him, and as a representation of Zechariah's subconscious feelings and thoughts.
Zechariah remained quiet on the exterior. He hugged his knees to his chest and thought out his conversation to Artemis. Since Artemis was actually a part of his mind, he would be able to reply all the same. I was hoping that you wouldn't show up again. You never come at a good time.
You never need me in good times. You despise my presence because it shows that you are conflicted about yourself. Artemis moved his mouth as if he was talking, but the voice that Zechariah heard echoed inside of his head, rather than around the room. It was obvious that nobody else acknowledged Artemis' presence. They wouldn't have reason to; this was all taking place in Zechariah's mind. Zechariah had a passing thought that he may be going insane from having spent so much time with Artemis and regarding him as the exact same person as Zechariah himself.
Artemis tilted his head. You called me here because you were lonely, is that it?
I didn't - I didn't want to call you. I don't enjoy your company. You know that more than anyone else.
You know that more than anyone else, Artemis repeated. He nodded toward Irine and Theri. Is it because of them? Have they made you realize how much you really miss someone else's companionship?
Zechariah shifted around, becoming a bit more uncomfortable with Artemis' prodding. A little, I guess. I can't blame anyone though. We've been fighting for our survival in a strange world for quite a while now. We don't really have much time for huggy-feely moments. And it's not like I'm homesick for the Medium right now. Well, maybe a bit. But I'm not missing anyone in particular.
Aaaaahh, Artemis vocalized. You're.. desolate. Yes, desolate is the word. Not only are you lonely and separated, you're disappointed in yourself. It's quite ironic: the one whose power runs completely on his willpower is losing the will to live.
Zechariah stayed quiet. Artemis, pacing the room now, continued to talk. You're missing everything that kept you connected to the Medium. You're missing a personal connection. You're missing a reason for living. You're lacking a selfless interest. You're yearning for that sort of bipolarity that came with the name Dimikaelo - the constant revolution of Artemis and Zechariah. You don't feel important anymore. You're an outsider, an outcast, a weakling, a wanderer. Artemis turned to look straight into Zechariah's eyes. You don't feel like Zechariah Dimikaelo anymore. You're not sure who you are.
Zechariah looked down slightly. After a few moments of silence in his mind, he communicated with Artemis again. What do you think I should do?
What do you think you should do? Artemis threw back at him. He grinned and continued onward. Find Zechariah again. Find yourself. Find a connection again. Reattain your bipolarity. Fill the vacuum that Artemis left. At this moment, there is only one person in the world: you. Make it so. Make Zechariah Dimikaelo your focus object. Find him. Find yourself.
That advice sounds strange coming from someone who used to be so rash and invidious.
Artemis stood still and looked at Zechariah motionless. For a split second, Zechariah could see Artemis' image distort. I am not Artemis. I am you. I am everything you are now, and everything you will be. I am nothing more than everything you are.
Artemis disappeared completely. Zechariah looked around, but could find no trace of him. His audience with his subconscious was finished, apparently.
Zechariah exhaled, a little disappointed. He was hoping to get a little more from his subconscious than a very vague half-answer; then again, he couldn't come up with a much better solution. He put his head down in between his arms, almost intentionally making himself a small figure. He didn't want to be noticed very much. He wanted time to recuperate and to process the words given by Artemis (or, at least, the version of Artemis in his mind that claimed to be him).
Continue waiting. Look around occasionally. Brood over the mental conversation.
I find it fun to imagine Zechariah constantly muttering "Broodbroodbroodbrood" as he constantly vibrates and looks around.
Poll
15 (42.9%)
Author
Topic: Special People: Mechanical Syndrome (Read 1140673 times)