WHOOPS
((...You just posted your turn draft didn't you? 
))
((I can neither confirm nor deny))
The only thing on hand I have that won't be destroyed by the beams is my Frame. And I don't really feel like retreating.
Charge at the LANDSKNECHT while shooting and weaving through the beams that might be in the way. Try to stop it from moving somehow and then keep punching the frame if I somehow even make it there.
You run, charging towards your foe, straight towards the spray of beams.
[SDEF vs. UTAR: 2 vs. 6] They adjust, the beams ricochet and spray early. Your squadmates are gone. Dead. Burnt and charred corpses. Your armor is damaged, some of it molten, some of it reduced to plasma.
Their thrusters flare with power. They know what you are doing. Though to be fair, it isn't too hard to tell what you are doing considering that you're charging straight at them. They're trying to fly up. Out of reach. Our of range.
[LTAR vs. MDEF: 3 vs. 2] Too slow. Your frame slams against their core. You swing you weaponless arm around in an awkward hug. Your other fist slams against them in a cacophony of horrible metallic groans. Standard LUPUS frames do not possess the raw power of their PHARAOH frames. That is not to say that they are weak however. Indeed, they were designed to be capable of destroying hostile frames just by repeatedly punching them. And in this case, with their reactive armor depleted, you begin doing just that, beginning to make dents in their core.
They are about to open fire on you with their chaingun, and start kicking you with both legs. You, due to punching with your chaingun arm, can shoot and punch at the same time. Please be as specific in your next action as possible. If you are going to move, state how and where. If you are going to attack, state which specific region of which specific part. Because right now, this can go either way.
Ao Shi
"Oh... Well. That didn't go well. Hrm, could you check surroundings while I sit here and do science?"
+1 Mobile Defense. One bio scan please. Wear clothes, grab first aid kit. Do science on 01 03.
Statpoint allocated.
"You may want to get out of here soon. I'm not picking up anything notable outside, but the walls, floors and ceilings of this building are alive. It breathes, bleeds and eats. Mostly eats. And if it gets hungry, it'll try and drag you into one of its mouths using tentacles. Oh and it's running on videogame logic - it has, big glowy weakpoint in the center. Though it seems to be able to emit some sort of signal when attacked."You put on the clothes, they aren't exactly in-fashion anymore, nor do they fit perfectly, but they'll do for now. You grab the first aid kit.
[COMP: 6/2] The space around you twists and alters, light shifting and distorting. You see the outline of, something. It looks like, an awfully large cuckoo clock, albeit one with the door below the clockface rather than above. In the seconds before it fades away, its door bursts open and a boar erupts forth before retracting back inside.
"Ugh... what the hell just happened?" He noticed Derek. "This may be a silly question, but where are we?"
Remember when I said that magic-usage can result in death? That happened to you.
I revived you, but it seems that we were redirected here.
This was the set of Flight of Fantasy, an old gameshow. It is now, under new management, so to speak.
The waiting room door opens and an orange wisp rushes forth.
"Greetings, the masters are unfortunately unavailable at this time, they will speak with you when they are available. For now I will be your guide, you will be able to change into more appropriate clothing in the next room, when you are done simply open the next door."The wisp disperses into light orange smoke that soon drifts away.
"Ya know, I have absolutely no idea." He looks up.
"That sure was a funny dream."
Red appears next to you and nods mockingly in agreement.
You also hear and see the wisp.
"It's not worth weeping anymore. Now I need to... live and let loose. There are better things to do."
Follow Miaoko.
He nodded. "Alright.. Let's go, I suppose." Pick a random direction, drive our death chair towards it, woo! (preferably not into a wall)
You damn kids these days with your safety slogans and your rock 'n' roll. Back in my day, we'd drive into walls and we'd like it. Since your room is at the end of the corridor, there's nowhere you can actually drive your death chair towards that isn't back the way you came from, or into a wall. There's a door in front of you that leads into the office space of the facility, it appears to have been partially ransacked. You can see only part of the room but doubt from inspection that any soldiers still reside there. You could go in there, but well, the death chair won't fit, so you'd be back on foot.
Where do you two want to go?
"Thank you, Jus. I'll be sure to put those resources to good use. I feel more capable already...wait, did you just alter reality and alter me? Is reality like a program you can change? That would make you like a god, wouldn't it?" Beirus pauses for a moment to reassert control of his currently spiraling thought process. "Well, there will be time to be existential later, I hope. I'm still a soldier and I still have a job to do." He remarks before opening the channel to his squad.
"Attention squad, this is O'Greenahan. The PUPPET got away, and the frame possession seems to have receded for the moment. I advise you to stay clear of me until the arms are bound again, just in case. Afterwards, I'll join up with you and we'll start clearing that building. Go ahead and get any willing System League forces to hitch a ride on your frames." Beirus stops to make sure his channel has the maximum possible encryption and that his squad is the only one to hear it before continuing. "And before you ask, no, the PHARAOH is not cursed. The arms possess a bloodlust enchantment that enhances the capabilities of the pilot at the expense of rational thought. Yes, that does mean magic is real, or at least the closest thing to magic we can have in this reality is real, and that storm that showed up is just the beginning of what we may see today. Now, I will offer you one more chance to leave if you don't have the stomach to stay. You can bug out, find a hole to hide in, and pray to whatever God you worship that you live through the night, which isn't likely. Or you can stick with me, we can complete our mission, and we might have a fighting chance against whatever freaky shit the universe has to throw at us." Beirus finishes his message, checking the status of the arm repair.
Get those arms bound already, then regroup with whoever is left of my squad and let's start clearing this building.
Gods? For some we are.
Your squad doesn't respond. At least, not immediately. Instead you are treated to the sounds of panicked breaths and quiet cursing. They fade eventually, reverting to silence for a few more seconds. Then, finally, one of them speaks, somewhat shakily.
"Uh sir, the pilot of the LATRANS is dead. The frame suddenly halted, and when the people riding it opened the cockpit, er, the guy's head was a lump of wax."Another voice becomes audible, almost maddened disingenuous laughter that shifts into heavy panting.
"Heh, so guess that shit about magic wasn't all just bullshit. There's no need to worry about us. I'm scared. We all are. But we'll die if we just go cry in a corner somewhere. Anyway, I said it before didn't I? I ain't plannin' on dying old and decrepit. And if I gotta die now, at least it'll be one hell of a send off.
We have a job to do sir, we'll finish it. We also like being paid - no matter which God you pray to, money and loot are the best protection.""We've got the people from the LATRANS riding on our frames now. They're kinda spooked about it. We all are. Say, where did you get that stuff about magic from? Just intuition? Or is headquarters keeping the rest of us in the dark about something?"You wait out the repair without incident, the arms are bound up nice and tight. There are several buildings nearby to clear: the main building which would require leaving the comfort of heavily armored frames (unless you intend on smashing your way through the entire building), the surrounding buildings which are like semi-sunken aircraft hangars which you could peel open like sardine tins, or finally there are the outer mech workshops that you don't need to destroy to get into but will likely have the most "heavy" armor support.
I'll post a more in-detail turn soon if I have the internet access, but for now (so the turn can go on )
- Take a damn good look around my lil' apartment, what is there that is either of potential use, or could be useful in making something else? If I have any other tools or clothing options check them out too. (Batteries, resources/parts of any kind, weapons of any kind, armor of any kind, etc)
- Once checking that the door is in fact still locked, check out the weird terminal box thing.
- Try searching up the "network" names on the internet via my wrist computer, there is a remote chance that on some cray-cray blog someone has heard of these... groups? factions? networks? identities? whatever they may be ((IC I know less than John Snow))
- If I can't find any information regarding the box, or the networks hit skip, otherwise I'll reserve my choice for next turn. ((A quick IRL google search as revealed... interestingness))
- Gather everything of immediate use on my main table/bench ((just to keep IC busy))
Let's just say that you have the in-setting equivalent of anything you can find in your house (excluding something that would be in the shed or garage), within reason. The door is locked, it is approximately a inch thick and 12" by 8", the rear side is featureless and the screen joins the main frame seamlessly. You get the same results as a google search as now. Although a far larger quantity of the results are either poorly formatted conspiracy sites or ads. Some of the more obviously crackpot conspiracy sites claim that the terms are bynames of a powerful group that are a universal shadow government and that the internet will one day awaken as the Anti-Christ, but they also claim that microwaves are heralds of plague... so yeah.
You proceed to dump the contents of your inventory (barring clothing and bodyparts) onto your table for inspection.
Author
Topic: Perplexicon - Down the Foxhole - Raining Mecha (Read 180235 times)