Boneman getting up doesn't mean it is up yet, which means I have time to shoot more. Shoot the bonedemon in knees! Or face. Distract nearest hostile entity with 44 01 sabb (no aiming).
[UTAR vs. SDEF: 3 vs. 3] Wow. Really? Fucking really? After proving itself to be too incompetent to even catch a wrench, the bone demon proceeds to stab your bullet in midair, sending the round slamming impotently against the wall.
[UTAR vs. SDEF: 3 vs. 0] It seems that hurling random pieces of metal deals as much damage to the core as a slug of metal moving at hypersonic speeds. The shelving manages to somehow shear more of the core off. More light sprays outwards and yet another meat man dissolves into meaty paste.
[COMP: 5/3] An obsidian sundial erupts from your in the general direction of the final meat man who dives out of the way.
Well, it seems that Stabbity McStabberson is now stabbing towards you in an effort to show you how it earned its name. Here's a hint: it involves stabbing. A lot of stabbing.
"My bad, Jus. Thought you were something relatable instead of a semi-omniscient asshole listening in on all our comms. I suppose I should just assume you know everything about anything that's going on. Outside of that storm, anyway. At least the non-permanent death thing is nice. Anyway, looks like that ability to scan equipment will come in handy when I get that glorified toaster from R&D. And since you know so much, Judgey McJudgepants, what do you know about those unknowns approaching us? Are they some of yours?" Beirus comments before opening a channel to call HQ.
"Roger that. And I'll get in on that betting pool. I bet it's an interdimensional invasion led by some otherworldly abomination trying to start shit, and I'll bet that abomination was a cause of the Fall. Or wait, was it just a pool on the incoming unknowns? Gimme a moment and I'll place my bet in that pool too." Beirus replies to HQ before closing the channel, keeping his eyes trained on Miako.
"You still didn't answer my question. All you did was spout random groups of numbers and...letters." Beirus trails off, his gaze unfocusing for a moment as he pulls up the mental image of the Grimoire and searches for the 'words' he heard. Upon finding them, he shifts his stance and rests his rifle against his shoulder as he trains it on Miako. "You better start explaining things right fucking now, starting with who you are and how you know those phrases." He growls.
You give me a bit too much credit. What I can sense is more or less only what my agents can sense.
As for the unknowns, some of them are ours. Like I said, we don't have too many relative to the size of the rest of the population.
Our resources are only finite after all, so it's a balance between having good coverage, and having competent agents.
Oh and for the record, you were chosen because it's slightly less of a bitch to enchance and contact you.
The fact that you have access to proper weapons, and a blood-thirsty armor frame also helped.
There are far more ships inbound than just the ones identifying themselves. Those that say they are NEE, are indeed NEE.
However, there are other ships, from the System League, from Vestige, from the Loremaster Consortium, and from Dead Hand.
From their perspective, they aren't moving any faster than normal. You're all just responding much slower than normal.
"Nah, we got *crunch* *crunch* pool for that as well. That's weirdly specific, but hey, I guess it won't even matter if you return from this. How much you wanna bet?
The mobility armor's arrived by the way."Never been in a outdoor supply store, so I'll just guess. Locate some tough looking clothing and boots, some kind of melee weapon (machete? hatchet?), perhaps some kind of rifle or shotgun if possible along with ammo (and attachments if I find any). Then find a backpack and stuff some food and drinks inside. Maybe try finding a map and a compass too. Or just something like a GPS. Don't actually take anything in case I kill myself with my next spell. Wouldn't want to damage my finds.
Walk out of the store and magic up a "12 09". If I succeed, grab what I summoned if it looks useful, along with the things I looted from the store. If I failed, just grab my stuff. If I kill myself, grumble about magic and walk back to where I was before and grab my stuff.
[COMP: 4] Crit-fail. Barely. Your flesh boils away from your head as your skull twists into a macabre approximation of a shotgun. A green, hand-shaped discharge rips itself from your chest and vanishes into the barrel. Then, the gun fires, a wave of corrosion and decay ripples through it, tearing it asunder as it erupts forth, swiftly reducing your corpse to half a skeleton lying in a pool of petroleum.
YOU DIEDYou again find yourself back in the warehouse, but with one important change: in front of you a limousine painted in a gleaming black. Its doors are open, making it rather evident, in spite of its heavily tinted windows, that there is no one inside. Not unless the people inside it are invisible at any rate. Stretching across the back seat, is, well, it appears to be one of those monolith-like advertising kiosks you'd find in a shopping center.
A heavily accented voice, rife with incorrect prosodies and odd intonations calls out from inside the vehicle.
"get in, INFIDEL. i will drive you to retrieve your POSSESSIONS. i wish to make you an OFFER; your SKILLS are desirable to us."The screen of the kiosk comes to life, displaying a rather cartoonish image of a car and being driving over to a pile of knick knacks with a sign reading 'your stuff' planted at its apex.
Well, that's a thing.
"Don't suppose you're willing to tell me why you're stuck with me?"
Ryles rubs his forehead and tries this magic thing, -x.
Atonement for the sins of our late creator.
Why you specifically? Well, we need to have a good coverage with our agents.
But if we have too many, we won't really have the resources to support them all.
I suppose you could call yourself a protagonist of sorts.
One of the main reasons for choosing you is because, well, you're here.
You're in a colony being attacker by a monstrosity from another universe.
The storm above. The turmoil below. They are symptoms of its presence.
It's probably trying to reopen the old gates. The transdimensional targeters.
Trying to let more of itself through. Issue is, well, they're occupied.
And if it prods them hard enough, what caused the Fall will reawaken.
[COMP: 5/3] The spell activates, but nothing actually happens.
Alright, lets get ready for a busy turn!~
If I'm not still in the tent pop back in, but say: "1f a8" within the tent, grab whatever I get (if remotely safe to do so).
If I actually get anything (unless it is a rifle with an inbuilt power supply 
) trade it for an extension cord, someone here must be willing to trade for whatever it is I get, and have a cord for barter. If I can't that's not a deal-breaker tho, but would be quite useful.
And finally jump on my rope horse and ride east to the charging station the vendor mentioned. Hopefully with the aid of the horse I can get there faster and have some time to scope out the area/set up/practice magix 
[COMP: 7/6] [COMP: 5] Silvery pieces of metal begin to appear in the air before you, twisting and turning as they slam into each other. Dragged by an immense force, your rifle is ripped free from your grasp. The nearby beds find themselves pulled, then dragged, then hurled into the assembling mass of metal. It shifts, individual components twisting and rearranging in a cacophany of clacking as its form alters to accompany its newly requisitioned parts. The bedframes lock into place, their mattresses quickly discarded in the process. The backside of yoru rifle is enveloped in a series of mechanisms that, judging by their appearance, secure it and can pull its trigger. Standing before you, coated in chrome, is a mass of neodymium in the very much animated form of a bear. Its head is a turret assembly build around your (thankfully unloaded) rifle. Its chest is skeletal with its oversized, reinforced ribs forming a cross between an iron maiden and a trash compactor. Sprouting from its back, like great wings, are the bedrames-turned-shields.
Well, you are now in a tent with the quintessential perplexicon mascot (which is to say a metallic murderbear) that is lumbering towards the exit of said tent. What do?
Bet I can outrun that! Do so!
You manage to outrun your off-balance foe. Unfortunately, that means you are also running straight towards the head-on collision that is currently in progress. The front of your train has effectively shattered, and a cacophany of cracks are ripping down its length towards your carriage. Oh, and you know, the other train is still barreling down towards you giving no apparent fucks about the several carriages it just demolished. Its open front exposes the now glass-lined interior of oncoming carriage quite well. Said interior consists of a single enormous ramp heading upwards to the next carriage.
The sides of two trains adjacent to yours slide open, revealing their insides as well. If you manage to shatter the side of your carriage, you might just be able to jump into one of them instead. The one to the left appears to has a cavernous interior. Not as in large or dark, more as in it appears to actually be a limestone cavern. Abnormally bright fire-flies dart around within, their soft glows illuminating their otherwise dark surroundings. The carriage to the right seems to be a makeshift aquarium of sorts, with glass tanks lining the ceiling, floor, and opposite wall. In the tank that runs alongside the wall are schools of clockwork fish with bear traps for jaws.
The oncoming train is about to slam into your carriage. Make your move.
Derek walks down the hallway, staying close to the wall, and keeps an ear out for anything.
Silently, you creep into the hallway. You still don't hear anything aside from the distant songs of noticeably absent birds. Perhaps they're playing that noise through concealed speakers? Still, that doesn't explain how they've managed to generated a convincing breeze. Really, it's quite surprising that they'd try and make the interior of this ship so comfortable even near the cargo-holds, especially considering what they're transporting.
The room it leads into has four terminals positioned against the walls, two on each side. Again, all their screens are dead and there doesn't seem to be any way to turn them on. No visible buttons, nothing to interact with. Unless they're touchscreens, though one would again have to question why what is most likely a military transport ship would have touchscreen-based terminals.
At the end of room are a rather lengthy flight of stairs that descend downwards.
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Topic: Perplexicon - Down the Foxhole - Raining Mecha (Read 179450 times)