Hold his chaingun arm away from me. If I can't just punch him with the other one too. Keep punching his core, more specifically - the cockpit. Shoot him at the same time. Hopefully I'll kill him before he kills me.
Try to stop his legs with my own legs.
Within the span of seconds, the battle is decided. You relentlessly punch the core of your foe, chaingun blazing as you do so. Likewise, your foe opens fire upon your frame, also aiming for the cockpit, albeit firing more slowly in part due to the severe damage their now barely-functional chaingun has sustained, and in part due to how awkward their firing angle is.
Thrusters still firing off between kicks, the legs repeatedly strike those of your frame. Or at least attempt to at any rate, you've managed to impede them quite a bit by positioning your legs to reduce the space they have to accelerate. Not that it matters much of course - by the time they can break your legs and start menacing your core, one of you would already be dead.
Though you were certainly dealing more damage, any armor that could have protected your core was melted off, so by the time you've pounded your way through the depleted plating of your foe (which only took a few seconds), your interface was practically filled with numerous warnings about various issues that arise from large pieces of (previously) high-velocity metal lodging themselves in parts that they really shouldn't be in. You do come close. You come really damn close to crushing their core and filling it with bullet holes. But in the end, your newfound lack of armor proves to be lethal. A spray of bullets rip their way into your cockpit leaving little but blood and pulverized electronics in their wake.
BREAK DOWNBetter luck next time.
The text burns itself into your vision as your eyes snap wide open. You're lying on cold concrete, naked save for undergarments, gazing upwards at the bright lights that litter the silver ceiling of corrugated metal. Silence.
((Bound Weapon - 092AIAR gained!))Winston looked at the wisp, then at Derek (who he still didn't know the name of.) "Uh... I'm just gonna head out now. Have a nice day!"
Go through the door, change, whatever, get moving quickly and get out to street level, trying to figure out what's going on. Think hard about trying to communicate by thought to Schrodinbug.
You go through the clothes, ending up picking the most practical out of a variety of strange looking clothes that echo the fashion of the medieval revival movement back in the (41)50's. You end up with a burgundy silk shirt, some comfy black wool pants and leather boots. Schroedinbug does not respond to your thoughts.
Your attempts to leave to street level are stymied however as the door leads to a gothic cathedral. You are pretty sure that the colony doesn't have one of those, even considering the strange abominations that architects sometimes produce. The building is roughly cross shaped with two side wings along a long central aisle, the seats are tiered however, slowly descending to where the altar would be. In place of an altar are five empty stone doorways arranged in a semi circle around a central dais. Behind them on a small ziggurat of stairs is a far larger sixth doorway.
Along the walls are windows of stained glass, brilliantly illuminated by, something outside. You can't really tell, as you see nothing but a featureless white void lying beyond them. They depict a grand, intricate mass of vibrantly colored and textured clockwork around which a paradisaical world of flourishing life is built around, with some plants seemingly growing into the geometrically impossible gears themselves. Above the ziggurat is perhaps the largest window of all. It depicts, what appears to be a figure wearing one of those sleek jet-black spacesuits used by the military, it stands amidst a nebulous darkness faintly illuminated with a glowing sigil in the background, one identical to your matchbox's symbol. Its arms outstretched (less like the usual religious poses, and more like
this) with great flames hovering within its hands. Staring back from within the azure-tinted visor is a grinning skull. Piercing their chest is a radiant scythe and from the wound erupts a great deluge of blood. The streams are not confined to their window however, as paths have been cut in the very wall and filled with more colored glass, thus depicting it flowing into the clockwork of the other windows.
As you step towards the end of the stands, the doorways light up, the leftmost a bright yellow green which fades through yellow to a deep red on the rightmost door. The sixth glows purple with swirls of bright red and crackles of brilliant blue lightning. Through these ethereal gates traverse five identical figures. Clad in black hooded robes and floating slightly off the ground. They remove their hoods as one, revealing the grinning rictus smiles of bleached skulls. Under the robe you can see hints of brass mechanics.
>Greetings
>Welcome to
>the great
>Game:
>Flight of Fantasy-Random.org shall pick one of the above networks (including <skip>) for me. The winner is..... DECOHERENT! (Select DECOHERENT)
-Enjoy any so far pretty damn good writing that may arise from my chosen option. Ask my Handler (presuming I get one) what is going on, who are they (and once we get to it) what are the consequences good and bad of choosing this network name?
-If I have any IC reason or knowledge to do so, try out:
-"22 09"
You select DECOHERENT, getting the good old taser vision along with the grimoire forcibly implanted into your mind. You are greeted with the image of someone who looks to be a successful gambler: expensive suit, well groomed, tastefully selected clothing and a variety of different expensive electronic accessories. His face is mostly concealed behind a pair of sunglasses but you can see he is in his 50's, with a lean clean shaven face and grey hair.
Welcome to the great game.
The words you see are commands in a dead tongue for a dead god. Fortunately that god still takes requests.
You can call on me anytime you want to take a chance.
Something has intruded this world of ours.
Last time it happened, was the Fall.
My organization has seen it fit to provide you with assistance in order to help neutralize this threat.
Each network name represents a different handler. Each differing in agents, connections and skills.
Forsaking all forsakes our protection. It exposes you to the unseen. It may be ultimately beneficial, or ultimately disastrous.
Think of it as another kind of gamble.
((Tradecraft Gained: Luck))[COMP: -1] Your words go poorly with your heart replaced with a rifle barrel that pierces one of your lungs. Ow.
YOU DIEDYou blink, eyes fluttering open once more. You are now on the surface of the planet, which you determine from the bright light outside and the glimpses of sky though the clear plastic windows of the tent you are now in. This must be the SL reserve line. Outside you can hear people moving around along with the mechanical clang and rumble of combustion driven transports, you can also hear what sounds like the lively raucous of a marketplace.
Around you are various cardboard boxes of varying size, stacked together in an orderly manner.
((Bound Weapon - Multitool gained!))"At this point I'm not even pretending being suprised. Video game logic you say? So if I destroy it then it will drop something cool? Right, lets go see it. Did you happen to figure out its weakness?"
22 ed. Pick up the thing and figure out if it is functional. If yes, then go where the heart is or let Red guide me there. Otherwise exit the building.
"Being hit. I'm not kidding."[COMP: 1] You get death. Your medula oblongata spontaneously transforms into a mass of advanced polymers which unfortunately fail to serve the same function.
"Or you could just die here. Guess that's an option too."YOU DIEDYou respawn back in the exact same place, we'll assume that you loot your corpse for all the stuff you gathered up the previous turn.
"You should probably stop trying that for now it seems to be... not working, unless you like constantly leaving mutilated corpses around. I mean, I won't judge-, well I will actually..." She states as she motions to shuffle your old body into a corner, but evidently fails to due to not actually possessing any physical form.
"At least it'll go after this first."You leave the room and it soon becomes clear that this building's architect is an absolute asshole. It lacks any real signage, which is quite an issue considering its labyrinthine structure renders it a fire hazard, and you know, turns it into a deathtrap when it suddenly becomes a living organism. You follow the only available path until it becomes a corridor that ends at a T junction. The air is humid, and there seems to be a faint stench of fish lingering about. Which path will you take?
"Guess we're going into the offices." Onwards! To the offices!
You enter into the offices finding that they have been tossed thoroughly with any expensive items - screens, computers and comfy chairs now missing. The cream decor has been ruined in it's warm uniformity by a large section of missing wall, with a skeletally thin PUPPET troop carrier frame lodged in it. Said frame has a functioning 9mm cannon and you lack an IFF unit. Truly this is going to be a great day.
"Right!"
Go with him. Examine pistol.
The pistol is the same as most modern pistols though its specific aesthetics mean that it could be mistaken for one of the ancient smokeless powder designs were it not for the rear heatsink and fire-set dials.
You follow your buddy into the next room. The one with the naked murderbot.
"Jus, did that guy in the LATRANS have a box too? How many people have them? Are they all NEE?" Beirus takes a moment to ask before reopening his squad channel.
"Headquarters didn't tell me anything about it, but I got a strange package earlier today. Now I have magic too, and a few other abilities I think, probably like that wall running earlier.Although I think I'll hold off on testing out the magic after seeing what happened to that LATRANS pilot. I also happened to come into contact with someone who is a significant source of information about what is going on, although I won't reveal their identity without their consent. I don't know what HQ knows about it." He communicates to his team before opening a channel so the System League folks can hear him.
"Hey, get on your radios and see if you can get in contact with any of your teams inside the main building. Try to get them to come out here peacefully. Once they are out here, they can see the storm and that LATRANS pilot if they need proof that there are more important things going on than this squabble. After that, we can hopefully get our engineers out too." He conveys to the System League personnel.
Mostly talking stuff. If we come under attack, blast the attacker with the auto cannon.
Indeed. He is one of our other recent recruits here, along with two other such people.
The number, well, it depends on whether you mean to say overall, or just in this colony. Either way, there are not that many.
Relative to the population from which they were recruited from of course.
Allegiances matter not to us. As a matter of fact, there is another agent in this facility, a more experienced one working for the System League.
Do not worry. Unless something goes horribly wrong, you two will not even meet here, let alone be forced into hostilities.
Johnny replies whilst the rest of your squad make affirmative grunts.
"Okay... the sounds really damn crazy. But there's a storm right here as well, so the fuck do I know. Did that contact of yours say who we're up against? Judging by the storm, I'd think it's the commies, but, I don't see the other usual signs of 'em."Needless to say, the System League soldiers don't sound too composed, though they are at least, somewhat calm by now.
"Working on it."After a few minutes, they finally radio back.
"They're coming out now with the engineers. The live ones I mean, not entirely our fault, some lunatic tried to have some of our guys murdered with cutting torches, and well, shit happened.
Normally they aren't that agreeable, but considering well.... all the stuff going on further down... Anyway, I can't make any guarantees that they'll give themselves up. But they've said they aren't gonna shoot unless you shoot first."
Author
Topic: Perplexicon - Down the Foxhole - Raining Mecha (Read 177018 times)