Bay 12 Games Forum

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  
Pages: 1 ... 116 117 [118] 119 120 ... 161

Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 262215 times)

Toaster

  • Bay Watcher
  • Appliance
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1755 on: October 31, 2016, 05:11:26 pm »

No idea what this is, but Thomas decided quickly he shouldn't be in it.

Abscond mightily.
Logged
HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

TopHat

  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1756 on: October 31, 2016, 06:01:23 pm »

Okay, I'll admit that perhaps wasn't the smartest idea.

... and the measure's still processing, isn't it, so I can't use that. Great. Should have known stopping to use it would bite me.

Body? Rats? Can you do anything to deal with this before it swallows the rest of our face? I'm all ears. Or probably just one ear, now, though.

((Oops))
Logged
I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Xantalos

  • Bay Watcher
  • Your Friendly Salvation
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1757 on: October 31, 2016, 07:22:13 pm »

"...Why do we keep on doing this? Escalating shit out of our control like that?
I mean damn. I don't think I even wanted to kill you, Wilde. Maybe hurt you a little, step on your face once or so, but nothing permanent.
Well, nothing that I can fix now I suppose. Should I mercy kill you? ...see, I'm not sure. That rift we made in reality also seems kinda ominous. Running away might be a good idea, if only I had leg bones to run away with. Thanks blacksmith.
...
Where'd he go anyway?"


Go chase after the blacksmith. No escape for you now, we're going to El me and you!

Assuming we don't get eaten by whatever it is me and Wilde did to reality of course. Try not to be eaten.
Logged
Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

Harry Baldman

  • Bay Watcher
  • What do I care for your suffering?
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1758 on: November 01, 2016, 10:59:50 am »

"I don't smoke, but if you have alcoholic beverages around I truly would like to taste some of those. Tell me about your clan. You folks do not seem to be exactly avarage human."

If no alcohol is available, then I make some on my own. If any questions raise about it, then it is officially the only minder trick I have learned.

Oh, Rose says, she's terribly sorry. She assumed you were a Moth as well at first sight, judging by your companion. So all this must seem a little strange to you, yes? There's no need to fear, however. You find yourself among the Gallflies. Don't mind the buzzing, she chuckles affably.

[Where's The Booze: 4]

As for a drink, that can certainly be arranged. Would you care to join her for a midnight raid on the healer's tent? If you'd like something to soothe your soul, there would be the place to find it.

I get ashore, collapse, and then rest there for a bit.

Man, I never thought I'd be relieved to be back here.

You emerge from the water feeling like an abused lungfish, and lay naked and bruised on the shore as you look at the skies, still not breathing or showing any real signs of life apart from a considerable amount of laceration.

[Somewhere Over The Rainbow: 4]

As the dust settles on the area you can't help but notice an ominous arc of light on the horizon, widening and gaping apocalyptically at you. It tickles with implication at the back of your mind, as if waiting for you to ask what it might possibly mean. You get the sense it is very eager to tell you something.

No idea what this is, but Thomas decided quickly he shouldn't be in it.

Abscond mightily.

[There Is No Sign Of Land: 6]

You flail wildly, splashing unidentified substance all around as you reach for nearby actual land and find brief purchase on a bit of the slope you fell in along - you push down on it and a piece crumbles away into the water, and you scratch at the shore like a cat fallen in a bathtub, feverishly scrambling to escape, dragging yourself out after a minute or two of concentrated effort, coated head to foot in sizzling, tingling liquid that reminds you a lot of the dust you're currently trying very hard not to inhale. As it evaporates off you a feeling like carbonation goes over the entirety of your skin through your clothes, and when the dust settles at last you notice that your skin is a lot redder than you last recall.

You look behind you, and notice that where you fell into a few moments ago seems to be a large, glowing crater filled luminous, bubbling liquid that persistently seems to be trying to crawl up the walls, waving restlessly all the way. Is that toxic waste? Ugh! At this rate you'll be needing to see a dermatologist before long!

You again nearly trip on the good doctor as you start to retreat from this clear public health hazard. She whimpers slightly at the disturbance as you delicately step over her.

Okay, I'll admit that perhaps wasn't the smartest idea.

... and the measure's still processing, isn't it, so I can't use that. Great. Should have known stopping to use it would bite me.

Body? Rats? Can you do anything to deal with this before it swallows the rest of our face? I'm all ears. Or probably just one ear, now, though.

((Oops))

[Appeal To Substrate: 2]

Look, there's a good reason you're here, and that's because a formless mass of otherworldly flesh unbound by physics is not renowned for its problem solving skills. So you're afraid you're kind of on your own here.

Admittedly, while having a glowing rift in your face mirroring a highly ominous rainbow of blinding light in the sky is definitely highly alarming, you're fairly sure the rate of your face collapsing into it is slowing down at a more than reasonable speed, the square-cube law seemingly working very much in your favor as your flesh slowly begins to stabilize around it, though not before claiming your eyes. On the bright side your eyes falling into a white void of revelation seems to affect your ability to see to a surprisingly minimal degree. In fact, you think you see a little better now than a couple moments ago.

[Madness On The Horizon: 5]

You look up toward the arc of light in the sky, and it does actually feel like looking into a mirror. The sky flashes briefly as if lit by soundless lightning, and you see yourself reflected in it, your face gone, bisected by the arc of light. You seem a little more calm up there than down here, strangely enough.

Not a vain sort at the worst of times, you look away. Mr. Daniels seems to be giving boneless and wildly unsuccessful chase to a rapidly fleeing Nately. You get the sense you have a few things to say to him. The exact nature of the message eludes you, but it seems important somehow.

"...Why do we keep on doing this? Escalating shit out of our control like that?
I mean damn. I don't think I even wanted to kill you, Wilde. Maybe hurt you a little, step on your face once or so, but nothing permanent.
Well, nothing that I can fix now I suppose. Should I mercy kill you? ...see, I'm not sure. That rift we made in reality also seems kinda ominous. Running away might be a good idea, if only I had leg bones to run away with. Thanks blacksmith.
...
Where'd he go anyway?"


Go chase after the blacksmith. No escape for you now, we're going to El me and you!

Assuming we don't get eaten by whatever it is me and Wilde did to reality of course. Try not to be eaten.


A lot of this surely could have been avoided if these people weren't so insistent on being shit.

[The Sound of Silence: 4]

Speaking of, there's the blacksmith, currently running away very quickly in a southward direction toward Anglefork Town. Hold on, fucker! There's debts to be paid, and paid they will be!

[Running On Empty: 3 vs. 5]

Maybe you shouldn't actually have shouted that out loud, you reflect after five minutes of being hopelessly outpaced by a boy running for dear life, disappearing into the town before you're even halfway there. Only seems to have made him run that much faster. Way faster than your boneless ass can manage for sure.

[Skies Are Darkening: 2]

Rather more unnervingly, you discover that not looking at the arc of terrible light that your Words seem to have produced is not at all enough to prevent it flashing across your eyes every time you blink. So you try not blinking, and it continues to flash in front of you regardless, each flash a little longer than the previous. Uh oh. Probably not a good sign.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
Logged

AoshimaMichio

  • Bay Watcher
  • Space Accountant
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1759 on: November 01, 2016, 11:13:28 am »

"No worries, I'll be buzzed too soon enough!"

Midnight raid? Absolutely! All in proper viking fashion!
Quiet and civilized viking fashion.
Logged
I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

Xantalos

  • Bay Watcher
  • Your Friendly Salvation
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1760 on: November 01, 2016, 11:14:10 am »

"Fuckin reality warping. Fortunately I have a backup plan for shit like this."

Keep going toward Anglefork town, I'll catch up with the blacksmith eventually, if only for lack of sleep. If any supernatural bullshit tries to manifest at me, attempt to utilize the well's absorbtion powers that it gave me (I know I'm simplifying it) to suck it into extradimensional oblivion. Or just murderthought it if it's a regular thing accosting me.
Logged
Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1761 on: November 01, 2016, 04:58:38 pm »

Okay, maybe I'm not relieved to be here.

I seek shade or shelter from the ominous rainbow.
Logged

TopHat

  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1762 on: November 02, 2016, 12:10:32 pm »

"Hoy, Daniels, hold up! I have a few things to say to you!"
Relate message to Daniels, or failing that a handy rock or shrub. Keep an eye out (hah!) for any new behaviour on the part of the rifts.
Logged
I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Toaster

  • Bay Watcher
  • Appliance
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1763 on: November 02, 2016, 04:18:45 pm »

Well, crazy as she is, it'd be unseeming to not at least try to help.

Grab the doctor and shepherd her along.  The town is at least generally north of here, right?  We should go there first.

Thomas made a note to see a doctor as soon as he got back.  Hopefully he would still have a job and the sensible health insurance that went along with it.
Logged
HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

Harry Baldman

  • Bay Watcher
  • What do I care for your suffering?
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1764 on: November 03, 2016, 02:21:29 pm »

"No worries, I'll be buzzed too soon enough!"

Midnight raid? Absolutely! All in proper viking fashion!
Quiet and civilized viking fashion.


Lovely! She leads you by the hand out into the dark again, and you weave along a particular path through the thick circle of teepees arranged around the oak tree you rested at, slowly heading down the bluff. It feels like you've gone more than a respectable distance when you finally seem to reach your destination, Rose managing to chart a rather successful path in the dim starlight. She parts the flap of the tent and pulls you in gently, and you resist the powerful urge to holler menacingly to announce your entry.

This tent is very conspicuously unlit, in that you can barely make out anything at all in the consuming darkness. Rose splits from you almost immediately, not particularly needing to see anything to find her way through here. Should only take a minute or two. You'd like a tonic, yes? A lighter or stronger kind? There's several sorts. Any flavoring preferences? There's plain, rich, sour, blood, orange and blood orange, she whispers to you very slightly from a deeper recess of the oddly shaped tent.

Spoiled for choice, you give this some thought. And as you do so, you realize the itching on your shoulder is actually a scratching, a rather long fingernail presently tapping on it. You stir a little, and you hear the barest whisper of a woman's voice reach your ears.

Stranger, it says, I can see you.

"Fuckin reality warping. Fortunately I have a backup plan for shit like this."

Keep going toward Anglefork town, I'll catch up with the blacksmith eventually, if only for lack of sleep. If any supernatural bullshit tries to manifest at me, attempt to utilize the well's absorbtion powers that it gave me (I know I'm simplifying it) to suck it into extradimensional oblivion. Or just murderthought it if it's a regular thing accosting me.

The flashes of preternatural rainbow continue across your eyes, and you try to ignore them. You can ignore a lot if you put your mind to it! The flashing doesn't abate. You keep running. Doesn't help.

And then, the voice of Mr. Wilde.

[That Golden Voice: 4]

The rainbow flashes bright and becomes a sawtooth wave, blasting a 9-story wall of sound into your skull as its waves go mad before your eyes. You only narrowly keep your balance as you scream, your murder-thought knowing its destination to the point where you need not even look.

[Cut The Signal: 4 vs. 2]

You hear it impact satisfyingly into Mr. Wilde's torso, a razor-thin entry followed by an explosive splash of an exit - Mr. Wilde stumbles mid-sentence, and the blast of sound weakens momentarily as he pauses in his pursuit, abating slightly as you get away.

[Run For Your Lives: 3]

You must get away from him, you think repeatedly and intensely as you power undulate and nearly tumble head over heel in your rush, your body not particularly enabling the quick sprint you are attempting. As you sense him rise once again, the wave crossing your eyes pulses wildly and your entire body spasms briefly.

Okay, maybe I'm not relieved to be here.

I seek shade or shelter from the ominous rainbow.

[Gimme Shelter: 5]

You clamber up the shoreline, trying not to look at the astrological anomaly right behind you as you quickly make your way to what you realize is the road, where you see none other than one Mr. Minstep, currently having helped up that other lady Claire was entertaining the... other day, you guess? You're not sure if you've lost or gained a day somewhere. Time can be hard to follow. You exchange a meaningful look with both of them as they simultaneously appear to wonder what impulse it is that possesses a woman like you to be naked at a time and place like this. You duck down into a nearby trench you don't recall being a part of the landscape when last you were here, and make a shushing gesture at them as you press your back to the dirt wall, feeling a not inconsiderable sense of relief as the arc in the sky no longer feels like it's staring into your skull and smacking its lips.

"Hoy, Daniels, hold up! I have a few things to say to you!"
Relate message to Daniels, or failing that a handy rock or shrub. Keep an eye out (hah!) for any new behaviour on the part of the rifts.

Mr. Daniels doesn't seem like he's heard the good news, so you sprint after him to make sure he gets the information. You don't think he sees you, and he seems rather preoccupied, so you give him a shout to hold up. He responds, and you're not sure why you didn't predict this, with animalistic violence.

[Cut The Signal: 2 vs. 4]

It hits you like a highly illegal shotgun round, catching you in the chest and coming out the other side with a hole the size of your left lung, sending you spinning and tumbling along the ground. You take a moment to reflect on this tragic loss of dear Lefty before a certain urgency pulls you to your feet.

It is imperative that Mr. Daniels gets this message, you feel a thought pulse in your head. Nobody else would find it useful, at least.

Well, crazy as she is, it'd be unseeming to not at least try to help.

Grab the doctor and shepherd her along.  The town is at least generally north of here, right?  We should go there first.

Thomas made a note to see a doctor as soon as he got back.  Hopefully he would still have a job and the sensible health insurance that went along with it.

You go and lift the doctor up to her feet. She doesn't appear to need the help, really, being of rather sound body. She simply wasn't sure if it was over. Is it over, she asks hesitantly as she gets up under her power, holding on to her sheet intently.

You look around. The sky looks quite dark, and there's a rather large arc of light presently decorating it, yawning in your direction in a way you can't help but read an uncaring malevolence into. Erm. It's possibly over, you say. Though even if it isn't, it most certainly is no longer safe to be in the area. Say what you will about commitment, but you draw the line at improper disposal of radioactive waste.

But anyway, is she well to travel, you ask. She thinks for a moment, and replies that she feels very odd. You know how you hear a very insistent buzzing in your ears, and your skin feels like it's burning? And there's these strange feelings of tension, where your every muscle ties itself into a knot? And these periods where you get nervous tics, but it's a lot like they happen to your entire body and have a peculiar agency all on their own? When life seems like a constant seizure where all you can do to not bite your tongue off and stave off the white noise building up in the corners of your eyes is talk, talk, talk?

You don't think people tend to commonly experience such things, no. She raises an eyebrow. They don't? She stares at you quietly before shrugging. Just as well it's gone now, she supposes. It wasn't a very pleasa-

You notice the doctor look away at something, and turn to notice none other than Ms. Minett duck into one of the opened faults in the ground, stark naked and heavily bruised as she rests her back to the wall. Shh, she says. Don't look at the sky. That's how it gets you.

You wisely look back at the good doctor. You think it's a good time to leave. Toward a town. Northward, right? The doctor scratches her head. Anglefork Town is southward from here, she admits to being fairly sure as she gets an uncommonly clear look at her surroundings. Though it's been a while. Northward is the Corner. Elizabeth as well, she supposes, but that's a little far off and-

-wait, have you seen her father? Old, colorblind, runs, she begins before glancing at the ruins, ran the castle affairs? Had a penchant for livery? She's, well, somewhat lost track of him in the past few months. Do you know if he's all right?

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
Logged

AoshimaMichio

  • Bay Watcher
  • Space Accountant
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1765 on: November 03, 2016, 04:04:28 pm »

"No shit, you folks have very good eyes." Leif says with genuine respect. "I wish my nigh vision was as good as yours. Oh, Rose? Strong type, rich and orange flavour please. I want to taste all variants eventually, but let's start with those."

Turn around and try to see who's scratching me.
Logged
I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1766 on: November 03, 2016, 06:02:26 pm »

I whisper to Mr. Minstep and the woman. "Hey, do you guys know what's happening right now? I just got back here and things seem weirder than usual."
« Last Edit: November 03, 2016, 06:04:50 pm by penguinofhonor »
Logged

TopHat

  • Bay Watcher
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1767 on: November 03, 2016, 06:16:08 pm »

"What the hell was that for? I'm trying to help you!"
You know what? If he's going to be like that he can jolly well forget about getting any useful information out of me. That'll teach him. Next message?


((I'm afraid that I'll be off until Monday once again, unfortunately. Any semblance of an action plan has recently been smashed beyond all recognition so not much to put on that front, sorry.))
Logged
I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Toaster

  • Bay Watcher
  • Appliance
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1768 on: November 03, 2016, 07:09:53 pm »

Thomas thought for a moment.  "Oh, the lord of the keep?  He's well, just saw him yesterday, before the castle... fell over.  His mother, I guess your grandmother then, was able to get out safely as well.  Got her her clothes and things and she left the castle before it fell.  Nice lady, really.  But yes, I am going north past Elizabeth, but I can accompany you if you'd like."  He sighed a bit.  "I suppose I should offer to take you to Anglefork southward if you would rather and need my help.

He looked up at the calling.  "Or yes, Ms. Minett!  She'd take you to Anglefork if you rather.  Yes, Ms. Minett!  There was an earthquake.  The castle fell over a bit.  I believe your friend here the doctor may want an escort!

Take the doctor northward with me if she'd like.  Pawn her off on Ms. Minett otherwise.
Logged
HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

penguinofhonor

  • Bay Watcher
  • Minister of Love
    • View Profile
Re: Our Salvation: Tearing the Stitches of Reality
« Reply #1769 on: November 03, 2016, 08:34:18 pm »

"Just an earthquake?" I pause and look at the doctor. "I could accompany her; she gave me mead once so I owe her a favor. I'll go anywhere except indeterminate darkness."
« Last Edit: November 03, 2016, 08:36:07 pm by penguinofhonor »
Logged
Pages: 1 ... 116 117 [118] 119 120 ... 161