((...Huh. I'm surprised you actually let me become an Elder Brain.))
Have my loyal Illithid servants fight their way out of the prison, and use my enhanced psionic powers to either mentally dominate or kill me directly. Once a path out is secure, have my minions carry me out of the prison and find a pool of brine to suspend me in.
[5]
Escape! The city is in chaos and you high-tail it.
See if anyone's making space cows.
[3]
No one shares space cows.
Pharika!Lolfail: "Time to fuck shit up!"
Pharika!Cyrydiad: "I'm not sure how I feel about this... You do realise we're now partly mammalian, right?"
Pharika!Lolfail: "Does it matter? No? Thought not."
Pharika: Test out new powers over life and death by creating space cows, and then killing them for fun.
[3]
You make space cows, and they escape.
LEARN LANGUAGE THROUGH SHEER FORCE OF WILL!
[1]
FAIL
There seems to be a lot of people in the area. They're all looking at you. Most are shocked.
((Blazing Glory's "Space cowboy" Actually reminds me of Firefly.))
I use my AI knowledge of the occult to burn the wings off the Angels to remove their advantage in battle, also keep fighting.
[6]
The war continues!
A third hostile force is attacking! Casualties on both old sides!
I'm not sure I knew in the first place.
Ask for TamerVirus's help in thickening the walls to my pocket dimension.
[4]
Reinforced. Yay.
Destroy the giant potato with a mere thought.
[3]
You teleport it somewhere else.
DEPLOY DERAIL CANNON
I don't actually hate or even dislike anime that much, I just feel its my duty to be over the top sometimes
[1]
A giant potato falls on you.
Learn how to live in space. Somehow. There's no common sense where I came from anyway.
[6]
Space pirates! Oh noes!
Being a non-speaking semi-sentient war machine powered by magic (which was likely exempt from the techno-pocolypse due to hiding in the background as a static object) I stand motionless for a while, pondering the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, while sincerely wishing I had arms in order to scratch the imaginary itch occurring on the side of my hull (the lack of nervous system only aggravating the issue further).
Seeing as that wouldn't incite much of an outcome however, after few moments of semi-thought, >carefully and deliberately position the cannon of my turret in order to pick a flower from the surrounding grounds, whatever they might be.
[4]
Yay, picking flowers.
On the difference between rails and plot: Though the thread may be whacky, there are rails. This is a thread for a RTD. No matter what happens in the game, it's what the thread is about. Thus, shoving the game aside to discuss something else would be derailment.
Say, didn't I make the subtle knife earlier? And now we're fighting Heaven?
Use the Knife to create portals, bring in an infinite number of parallel reinforcements.
[2]
Afraid I stole that when no-one was looking and traded it for cheese. Sorry.Recreate Earth, except with British elephants controlling the planet.
[2]
Not enough resources.
More cheese. Better cheese.
[5]
Good quality fucking cheese.
.... Ahh, screw it.
Summon everything and everyone except for myself to a single spot, all at the same time.
[2]
You are now the centre of a supermassive black hole composed of you from every multiverse, stuffed into a pocket dimension. Great.
Wait, you said you were a GM? ...Is that an abbreviation?
Godmasters. We are powerful enough to control gods, though occasionally the term gamemaster pops up when GMs are more involved with the aspects of the world; its like a game show for us.Christ, not naked! What manner of harlot do you take me for? The most attractive thing in the world is that which is just barely out of sight. Put on clothes. Very few clothes, but clothes nonetheless. Then go and help another PC.
[6]
You put on underwear, to the delight of the crew. You escape through some crazy offscreen awesome and end up in the Heaven dimension.
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Topic: We Are Our Avatars: The End. (Read 111818 times)