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Author Topic: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Unsocialized Medicine  (Read 3408 times)

Taricus

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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Meeting a Cheet
« Reply #30 on: May 25, 2014, 07:48:54 pm »

Go with the guards to the infirmary.
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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Meeting a Cheet
« Reply #31 on: May 25, 2014, 08:04:37 pm »

Go with the guards to the infirmary.
+1.
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Funk

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Agree, plus that's about the LAST thing *I* want to see from this kind of game - author spending valuable development time on useless graphics.

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Death to the false emperor a warhammer40k SG

Glowcat

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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Meeting a Cheet
« Reply #33 on: June 12, 2014, 02:55:21 am »

[Game Update #3 - HER (Heresy Emergency Room)]

"I.. think I need a chirugeon ASAP. I'm suffering from IMS." You told the first guardsman, who you might as well refer to by his name, Sigismund, unsure whether he understood what Insensitive Mouth Syndrome meant or if it was even a thing. You licked the inside of your mouth to doublecheck. Nope, still numb. At least the chirugeon would be able to help. Okay, your hope was that they would be able to help, though you had the sinking feeling in your gut that you weren't, in fact, going insane and that this all was unfortunately very real.

Sgt. Sigismund's irritation at your description of symptoms flashed around his forehead like some kind of bulgy thorn-encrusted halo of red light but he clearly only wanted to get this over with so he could go home and relax with his friends while watching the latest Blood Bowl season on his 5' 3" x 4' holoscreen. He took a hand to his helmet's vox-caster unit to relay the deviation from his usual patrol while gesturing for Thaddius Wolfe to move in with the restraints as per the guard force's standard safety precaution when transporting a suspect individual. The overwhelming need to get to the infirmiry led you to acquiesce rather eagerly, and Pvt. Wolfe raised a scrutinizing eyebrow at the dopey smile you wore while he cuffed you. It was a short trip after that, with the rail units on this floor being regularly maintained so that there weren't interruptions in workflow. Your attempts to strike up a conversation with either guardsman went nowhere and they rudely ignored you for the entire trip while they talked among themselves about the advantages of projectile firearms in law enforcement versus a las sidearm.

You arrived at the local medical center's unknown affliction wing with second thoughts about your previous enthusiasm for cuffs. Damn things felt like they were tearing your skin right off after a trip on the turbulent metal crates-on-a-line which served as public transit around here. The sergeant and private dragged you into the main hall where they informed the clerk of your collapse.

"...After she got up she stared at us like she were touched by a freakerslug, though there were no signs of one of the critters about. Figured we'd take her in just in case there was an infestation way up on this floor. Don't need to give the captain any more ammunition for his shitslinging when I'm this close" Sigismund emphasized with his index finger and thumb "to getting reassigned out of this dump."

"Understood sergeant." Cyrine -- damn knowing peoples' names instinctively was weird -- didn't care much for the man's personal life, and began moving towards you with her scanner and datapad as soon as it would've been considered polite. For your part you'd be gawking at the servitors and the partially trained personnel who helped the chirugeon, the only actual techpriest in this particular facility, run a small research clinic meant to gauge diagnostically-uncertain health threats to the greater hive. The center it was attached to also directed the other medical units throughout the floor cluster, units with non-mechanicus assistants that would keep the general workforce healthy and productive on stims or whatever chems they needed to manage the ridiculous shifts that taskmasters would occassionally demand.

"Open your eyes and look into the light."

"What li-OW!" You barely were able to respond when she swiftly moved her scanner to your face and zapped your eyes with a bright green light. The device repetitively clicked as she moved the light across your entire body. Apparently satisfied with her reading, she switched an attachment on her scanner and grabbed your arm while you were still dazed and took a sample of your blood with a wickedly long syringe needle. You can't help but whimper, and look to Cyrine for some kind of recognition of your pain but she remains coldly focused on her task. At least it meant the process went a lot quicker.

"Ow.. Okay, you have my blood but I didn't get bitten by a freakerslug I was-"

"Mallear will see you after he reviews your results." She interrupted before waving you to the round chairs on the far end of the lobby, which was otherwise more of a datacenter that read various reports coming in from outside sources seeking confirmation for simple diagnosises and perscription.

"But you don't understand. I have IMS, and I might be going cra-" Your attempt to explain your symptoms yourself was stopped short intentionally this time, as a bulky servitor apparently designed for security came up from behind and loomed over you rather intimidatingly. You swallowed and gave a nervous grin to Cyrine before you handwaved that you understood where your seat was and timidly made your way there.

You stewed in your own impotence as you waited for an hour under guard. Nobody else was there for you to bother with your woes besides the cold receptionist and the guardsmen who were now talking about whether the Emperor, eternal glory upon him, secretly made female Space Marines to serve as his private guards. Before you could fully consider whether this topic counted as heresy, the clerk announced that Adept Mallear required your presence and pointed you to the lift.

Mallear reminded you why you were never enthusiastic about the hypothetical life as a techpriest, with his thick scars of self mutilation in some bizarre experiment that you'd probably end up wasting hours of imagination upon in a less urgent setting. The man, or what was left of a man, had replaced his eyes with thick lenses of alternating colors that seemed to indicate categories of his focus. Watching the interplay between his own trappings and your "gift" almost distracted you from when he decided to stop reading the various datapanels which filled his lab (typically attached to some kind of transparent vat with a limb or creature inside) and turned his attention towards you."

"*tick* Greetings, Ms. Solaria. *tick tick* It is an interesting reading that Mrs. Lethe has obtained from your scans. *tick* Do you know what it is?" Bouts of ticking noises punctuated each sentence, and clearly the robotic voice was not his own. You suspected that the large iron vise around his neck and mouth was not merely a part of the priest's grandious dark red robes with the gears of the Omnissiah proudly displayed with a mechanically animated glory.

Fretfully you began trying to see into his mind, but Mallear was different than the people you'd inspected with the gift before. Yes, you could see some of his thoughts, and had a vague understanding of his past, such as the disaster of hubris that subjected him to this rather menial position and derailed his path to Magos Biologos, but the information provided was significantly less than the more open minds of the guardsmen or clerk. What you did see caused you to tremble, because the thing that Mallear saw became simplified as one word: Change.
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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Unsocialized Medicine
« Reply #34 on: June 12, 2014, 09:32:46 am »

"What reading did she get?"
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adwarf

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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Unsocialized Medicine
« Reply #35 on: June 12, 2014, 09:42:01 am »

Scan the room for a weapon of some sort, but remain calm as we reply to him.

"I'm not sure I do, what do the readings say? I'm just suffering from IMS as far as I'm aware."
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Funk

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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Unsocialized Medicine
« Reply #36 on: June 12, 2014, 04:09:43 pm »

Scan the room for a weapon of some sort, but remain calm as we reply to him.

"I'm not sure I do, what do the readings say? I'm just suffering from IMS as far as I'm aware."
+1
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Agree, plus that's about the LAST thing *I* want to see from this kind of game - author spending valuable development time on useless graphics.

Unofficial slogan of Bay 12 Games.  

Death to the false emperor a warhammer40k SG

Glowcat

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Re: (SG) A Chaotic Series of Events - Unsocialized Medicine
« Reply #37 on: June 13, 2014, 03:29:29 am »

[Game Update #3 - Continued]

Mallear's attempt to shake you for a reaction nearly worked, but somehow with his intentions being laid bare by your new power it was easy to recover and react in a way that drew no suspicion. It helped you approach the social danger in a way that was relaxingly methodical. "I'm not sure I do, what do the readings say? I'm just suffering from IMS as far as I'm aware."

You pretended to be disinterested in Mallear's questions, much to his frustration, while secretly scanning the room for a weapon in case things turned ugly. Maybe he found out about whatever Cheet did to you somehow? Was he going to turn you into the authorities? Experiment on you? There were plenty of good reasons to have a weapon on hand, though you couldn't spot anything suitable with the brief glances your cover afforded you.

"*tick* I am not familiar with that particular condition..." Flashes of Mallear's condescension towards your belief in fanciful afflictions ran across his mind, though you were already on a roll and easily brushed them aside. The techpriest turned to a nearby hololith that showed a 3D image of you and various numbers that you guessed were some kind of techpriest code. Your body's organs were highlighted with different numbers next to each, and there was a helix-looking thing rotating about next to mini-Solaria.

He continued, "*tick* The readings she gathered show a destabalization in your biology, even down to the genetic structure. *tick* What I find most peculiar is that some of these changes that you are undergoing aren't merely abnormal... *tick* *tick* They're impossible. *tick* For instance, your metabolism has stopped responding to conventional energy sources in your body *tick* and all your bodily functions are running at usual capacity with absolutely no discernable source of input. *tick* I have some suspicions about causation but will need you to remain for prolonged study to fully grasp your affliction. *tick* You will be quarantined until I am done."

Mallear coldly stated your status as a prisoner without any room for negotiation, though to be honest you had barely noticed as it took a great deal of effort to keep up with his words while also interpreting the various reflections of his mind that were revealed through his mental guard. What you managed to understand is that while Mallear was a trained chirugeon and more, he only had an inkling that your condition might be the work of a supernatural power. It was hard to tell if he knew enough about Chaos to draw the connection or if he was mostly fishing for information at this point.

But such considerations seemed more distant than the worry imparted by your glimpse into how Mallear intended to quarantine you... and the image of yourself being rendered unconscious in one of his vats for convenience was rather clear. As was the silent activation of servitors that were even now coming to subdue you...

=======================================================================


Events:

Deceit (UNTRAINED): Roll 7 (1d3) vs. 7+. Success! (double explosive rolls helped on this one)
Managed to put on a poker face for Mallear's probing (Deceit vs. Scrutiny)
SKILL GAIN! Deceit: Lv.0 -> Lv. 1

Deceit (Lv. 1): Roll 16 (1d6) vs. 11+. Double Success! (exact same d6 rolls? seriously?)
Discretely scanned the room without Mallear noticing what you were doing (Deceit vs. Scrutiny)

Search (UNTRAINED: Roll 2 (1d3) vs 9+: Failure.
Could not find a suitable weapon in reach of your position.
SKILL GAIN! Search: Lv.0 -> Lv. 1

Trait Added: Poker Face
Solaria has developed a knack for hiding her inner thoughts from others by keeping a straight face. When rolling Deceit to prevent others from reading her via Scrutiny, she rolls an extra die and discards the lowest result.

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Totally a weretrain. Very much trains!
I'm going to steamroll this house.
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