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      Name: Gryph HP: 3/3 Glory: 34 => 35 Skill: This was not a pitched battle, nor a brawl. Gryph was picked up and thrown across the room as The Queen fought Noggins and Ringo. And yet, in a flash, as he pulled himself to his feet, it was over. The combat at least. The chaos that followed in it's wake had only just begun. Dog Kisser posted:Splut and Neebs faced off. The Horde devoured itself, turning friend against friend due to the commands of an ancient demigod. Nana and Cause grappled, though the former couldn’t bring herself to really hurt the converted man. He cracked her in the face with an elbow, bloodying her nose, then looked a little ill. This wasn’t good for anyone. Neither Splut nor Neebs felt great about it, but the victors took the others down as quickly and thoroughly as they could before moving on to help the others. Splut did not feel like he’d won, and cursed himself and Neebs for allowing it to get this far. Dog Kisser posted:Sikatris flew into the room, stump arm lashing with hundreds of severed threads, bleeding from dozens of wounds that she’d held together with yet more of the thin tendrils. She crashed into what remained of the Queen’s bed and scrambled for her feet… "Nana! Get to the Fort and Patch Wounds, Humbug Needs help! Lieutenant Neebs! I don't have the time: Patch Sikatris. I will deal with you later." Hopefully Splut would let her work, the time for punishment wasn't now. As for the Queen... "Ringo.... Keep her down. Any way you need to." Dog Kisser posted:A paving stone broke her neck and killed her. Seconds later, wire re-knit her twisted neck and the blazing light in her eyes and Brand reignited. Poetry could not be killed, for rhyme and meter could be found in all things! She cackled to herself, then frowned as her wings withered and withdrew. Ah, yes, the metachrysalid phase. The timing was… inopportune. And yet, she felt power burgeoning within her, spreading slowly through her veins like a velvet poison. Would she claim it fast enough? Snodis swayed to her feet and Gryph's blood ran cold. he'd seen her die. And the OG artifact that kept her together. It was possible Snodis was actually unkillable. Dog Kisser posted:Trinh could see how dire the moment was. She knew that it was time to pull out all the stops. She knew that she had the means to cause a distraction that might save the others. She knew that her action could well doom them all. She knew she should. She knew she shouldn’t. And yet again here he stood, staring down Trinh. Not exactly his favourite past time. but someone had to do it. "Hey Trinh. Looks like you've decided to free yourself even further, huh?Just... stay calm. Hate for you to get hurt any more. Still gotta pay you back." Wrestle Mania: Calming Trinh (Credit to Grumbus for the Pun): 2d100+35+34 164 Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Nov 30, 2018 |
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Nov 29, 2018 06:09
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Nana the Elder   //Not Available:    Cores: Mothering+50(using), Cooking+20, Sewing (cd) HP: 3/3 -> 2/3 -> 3/3 (Thanks Starn!) Glory: 2 -> 3 Medic Squad Nana stepped towards Cause, her arms open wide. He hadn't made a move yet, maybe her words had reached him? He tipped back his hat and her eyes locked with his. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but for just a moment they seemed to soften... Whumpff!! Nana blinked at the stars swimming in front of her vision. She was on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the vault. What? She shook her head, clearing the fog from her mind. She wasn't out yet, there was still more to be done. She sat up. Cause was nowhere to be seen, using the moment to slip into the general melee. She had been thrown quite some distance into... A pile of seat cushions and throw pillows? She looked around in some confusion, her eyes falling on Starn, seated imperiously on his makeshift throne. He was watching her with a knowing look, his trademark grin spreading across his face. She glanced again at the soft pile beneath her. Maybe his Deskapult idea was worth a second look... --- Torchlighter posted:
Nana was moving before he finished, eyes wide and panicked. She scrabbled over the makeshift barricade, searching and fearing the worst... There! The Sleuth was on the ground, prostheses mangled by some kind of impact, he was trying to maneuver himself with his one good arm. She rushed to his side, dropping to her knees and gently stilling him as she began her check. His pulse was fast, but firm. Circulation good. He had a strong heart. Fine. (Not yet.) His breathing was harsh, raspy. Painful to hear, but the new normal for him. Fine. (Do it right.) His eye tracked her finger, pupil responding to changes in light. Fine. (He's counting on you. Hold it together.) He was covered in cuts, scrapes, bruises. All superficial. Fine. (He's fine. He's fine. He'sfinehe'sfinehesfinehesfinehesfine...) Nana threw her arms around Humbug and drew him close, cradling his beaten body as she felt herself begin to shake. For a moment she couldn't stop it, the events of the night pushed in on her and her body trembled like a leaf as her hold on herself began to slip away. She closed her eyes, breathing in and focusing on the man in her arms, the man in front of her who needed her here, now. She let the breath out and willed herself to stillness, opening her eyes and smiling down at the Sleuth. "You gave me quite a fright, dear." --- Nana helped Humbug up, supporting most of his weight as his ruined prostheses threatened to give way beneath him. "I think we should get you out of here dear, but..." Nana bit her lip. "I trust you. More than anyone else here I trust you to know what's right. Whatever you feel you need to do, I'll help however I can. Just say the word." Motherly Assistance: 1d100+50+2+10(orders) 80 Nana will also pick up Ringo's discarded Tuned Shield and use it to protect Humbug  (Thanks Ringo!)
BHB fucked around with this message at 13:46 on Dec 1, 2018 |
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Nov 29, 2018 19:25
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The Lord of Hats posted:
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Nov 29, 2018 20:19
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  Name: Hob Glory: Glory is a remnant of the game, reject it. Skill: Singing+45 (cooling), Contortion+35 (using), Butterfly riding +20 Hob sat stunned as Noggins rose, with his minds eye a golden halo of energy surrounded her. Hat had done it! Noggins was queen! Everything felt kinda unreal. Could that really have happened? A smile crept back across Hob's face. ! Hob looked across at Humbug, too far to help drag him behind the barricade. He sent emotions across the net in his direction. Awe- Wow! Nice job! And Grimper... that Golden glow. The handmaiden net? He was being linked, powered up? Well, the handmaiden net was integrated into the mindbender net (kinda)! And Grimper was linked to all of the horde! At the very least it should provide a distraction, make the queen focus on his flailing attempt to hack into her network rather than subsuming Noggins. Hob staggered across the battlefield, no one was bothered by the weaponless, gloryless, unascended figure, weaving between limbs (ew), squirming allies ("Hey Snodis! Lookin' good!"), a bloom of metal thorns (is it weird that this doesn't seem weird anymore?). Ducking at a roar ("Trinh!?"), before finally finding himself set between Grimper and the other queen. He opened his minds eye. And looked directly into the sun. Contortion to twist the Queen's power via the net (she's linked now!). Get in the way of the power to Grimper so it goes through and into Hob, steal it to fight the queen with! It's basically going to the same person, since we're all bound to Grimper via nail. Right? Maybe. Maybe it'll just confuse and annoy the queen.: 1d100+35 89 WereGoat fucked around with this message at 20:58 on Nov 29, 2018 |
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Nov 29, 2018 20:54
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The Lord of Hats posted:
 "With all due respect your Gräce, my Nation is under mad-mist attack by your own, and Comräde Trinh has just taken her first tentative steps into the glorious future of our Species. These are both events I'd rather not miss, and you look otherwise occupied with this little Cöup d'étät, Intra-horde civil war and Regicide, to hold any serious negotiations at the moment. If you wish to say something, say it, but there will be no Grand Talks until the safety of my People is assured. Feel free to send an envoy or two, hazmat optional but recommended - the wildlife is pretty wild you know - to our new homeland. Just tell them to head Fröwise and follow the signs. They won't be able to miss them." 
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Nov 30, 2018 11:52
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smKK1hs--l4 One of the handmaidens lied down before her, motionless. Trinh flexed her fingers, open and shut, open and shut. Much better. She carefully extended a finger to raise the body's head and see if it was Yino. No, one of the other ones. A shame, this would have been a fitting end for their poker rivalry. She turned back to the hole, knocking over some furniture in the process. Gado wasn't where she had left him, but he couldn't have made it far. But now that she looked at it, she wasn't sure if she could fit through the hole to follow him... But then there was this. Arm sticking out, thumb raised at 90 degree angle... It was suitable, actually. Replace the bones with an iron rod and it'd be rigid enough to hang a coat on. She grabbed Grumbus in one hand, and raised him up to eye level. No, sticking him in the foyer would be a waste. An old fashioned display piece then? That still felt too... impersonal. Oh! A skull chalice! That way she could meet him every morning as she had her coffee. Perfect. Except, there was one issue. She pincered his head between two claws as if taking measurements, twisting this way and that. Too small, yes. There was moderation when it came to caffeine and then there was plain silliness. Trinh was thinking of how far she could stretch his face when Snödis spoke out. Swedish Thaumocracy posted:Welcome Trinhdingo, to the new Wörld THAT'S WHERE TRINH HAD LEFT ALL OF HER STUFF! She dropped Grumbus. Oh right, better to be on her best behaviour until this whole mess was behind her. Getting back home wouldn't be easy if she had vengeful pursuers on her tail. She'd need to avoid damaging Unexpectables, palace staff(to avoid a diplomatic catastrophe), Sikatris's forces(potential allies), and- she sighed. No. There it was again. The web. Neötypia was simply another part of the trap. That sinkhole. The interminable web of obligations, constraints, associations, expectations, responsibilities, courtesies, etiquettes, demands, promises, friendships, agreements and even more. She emitted a low growl. Who had the patience to deal with that nonsense? Enough. She reached her hand towards the nearest gaggle of people. She hadn't sought power so that she might keep on restraining herself! She would work and she would make something beautiful. Something lasting out of these fleeting sparks! There would be no more words, no more web! She hardly even noticed Gryph approaching. Why would she care a single bit abou- Torchlighter posted:"Hey Trinh. Looks like you've decided to free yourself even further, huh?Just... stay calm. Hate for you to get hurt any more. Still gotta pay you back." Slowly, she lowered her head towards him. Awkwardly lying her weight on her arms until he was right in front of her. "M̑̇̆̊̏̈́̇͛̈́̈́Ȏ̂̈́̉̋̍͛͐̃͝R̛̋͋͐̇̉̈̄̎̌E̊̓̃̋̂̃̈́͌̓̓?̛̍̍͐̐̍́̅̀͝" --- Trinh made herself comfortable by the chamber wall as Noggins delivered her proclamation to Grimper. The Lord of Hats posted:Thirdly, Trinh, I am incredibly impressed that you are still holding together, please keep it that way. For now Trinh observed in silence. Sikatris and Grimper were mainly focused on Noggins, but they were not ignoring her. They could not afford to ignore her, and that filled her with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Staring down Grimper and Sikatris, as if daring them to try something.
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Nov 30, 2018 23:52
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     Cause HP 2/3 Skills: Archaeology +25 using, Balance, CQC +15 Glory 31->32 "STOP" spoke a Queen and he did. Cause grasped at his chest, where something seemed missing, and patched, and transparent, as though looking through the thinned skein of his own soul. He had pledged himself to the queen, hoping to fell her council, and then... it was too clear to remember, what he had done, but now... now his queen disagreed with herself. And that seemed to crack the ritual of binding open wide enough to kick decision making back up to a rationalish mind. A mind which could note that this specific chunk of the queen had admitted to a lotta crimes. Shakily, Cause turned from Skett, who had found him again in the melee, to face Dixi. Perhaps he could find an opportunity to catch a limb in his whip, but first... he'd stress that ego suppressor, supposing it was still connected to her. "Reina," he called. "that's what you called yourself when you started a war, so I think you should keep it. But that war went so poorly for you. Not just the Skipping Lane forcing you to expend your nation's strength on a single stronghold, but the Inhabited, the air carriers, even their commanders, far more versatile than your singleminded breakers. You started that war, yet Fro was ahead of you in nearly every aspect. What was your pyrrhic victory supposed to achieve? Did you know how outteched you were? When did you first realize how far Fro was ahead of you? How were you going explain to To how your lineage had so bungled your preparations? There's more..." knowledge of archeology to show how 'Dixi' utterly mismanaged the war: 1d100+32+25 136 e: Dog Kisser posted:“My Queen! You TRAITORS! YOU’RE COLLUDING WITH HER!” I don't think you got the right word with colluding there. But this could actually be a good opportunity to throw her and us before the courts! vorebane fucked around with this message at 04:39 on Dec 1, 2018 |
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Dec 1, 2018 02:31
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   Sleuth-Off-Hand: Squad: Infiltration Skill: Sleuthing +80 (Using); Submission Holds (); Guarding (Used); HP: 1/1 Clues: 33/50 ---> 34/50 + 10 Dack's Glory Humbug was tossed roughly to the floor, his prosthetic limbs painfully torn off. He smiled at Foam's rage-filled face, pushing the view of a handmaiden heel descending and the feel of "- STOP BROADCASTING!" ringing in his ears. It was as good a note to end on as any - he had no big regrets. It wasn't every day you got to blow the lid off of a conspiracy as old and mean as this one. Whatever happened - whatever happened, the Unexpectables' actions up until today would've meant something. An icy wash of cold and a hot wash of fury passed over him - and a torn body was violently flung into Foam, pushing her away. Sikatris. Saving his keister, yet again. Humbug stopped broadcasting (really, it was too good of a note not to end it on), and took a good look around - low to mid levels of pandemonium reigned, but the arrival of Grimper and Sikatris (and the presence of A WENDIGO TRINH - drat, girl) had frozen most of the active fighting. Dack hopped on over and peeled off his suit, the muscular tissue Fragment practically jumping from his prone form to rejoin its originator. That was fair - it was Dack's, after all. Besides, Humbug wasn't in the best of states to use it. The Branded Wendigo held up a board with a few hurried scrawls, advicing caution (hum), then tossed a bag of trinkets onto Humbug's chest. A fair amount of Glory. Humbug reached for the bag, one hand curling around it as the Warlord and Queen's voice rang in his ears. Dog Kisser posted:“My Queen! You TRAITORS! YOU’RE COLLUDING WITH HER!” His Corona blazed brighter, then began to sparkle with golden flecks of flame. Sucy caught a glimpse of something, half seen, a flood of Script passing between the corpses of the Handmaidens and their former Warlord. “G-Grimper! Warlord, favored son of Tö, come to my aid! Your traitorous subordinates caused all this, ruined the evening and nearly decaptitated our fair land - until you came, my shining knight! Save me! Save us all! Save Tö!” Humbug was about to start laughing at how thick the Queen was laying it on (well, it was GRIMPER, he'd hardly notice), when... Noggins. Humbug's smile broadened. Hob's gambit worked! There was someone he could listen to. He stashed away Dack's glory and began to struggle to pry himself off the ground - and almost immediately Nana was on him, fussing, crying, comforting and hugging, helping him to his feet. It was like he was five again and had just fallen on his face, and his mother had been there, ready to help and soothe. There was a warmth he'd not felt in ages. He hugged her back, with his one hand. It was awkward, but heartening. bonus hole boy posted:Nana helped Humbug up, supporting most of his weight as his ruined prostheses threatened to give way beneath him. "I think we should get you out of here dear, but..." Nana bit her lip. "I trust you. More than anyone else here I trust you to know what's right. Whatever you feel you need to do, I'll help however I can. Just say the word." The Sleuth hummed somewhat bashfully, then rattled out a slow laugh. "Huhum. Thank you and... well, if you don't mind ma'am, I think I have one more close call left on the docket." The Lord of Hats posted:"Anything else anyone wants to bring up?" Leaning on Nana as she held the Tuned Shield in front of him, Humbug slowly ambled forward and raised a hand. "Well... hum. Splut originally assigned me to do this, so I'll sum it up in his stead. In the [Case of Queen Reina's Murder]: The fact is that [Queen Dixi and the Handmaidens] are actually an ancient [Old Guy-Era Tö Queen-Gestalt Hive-Mind] that have been using [Cobbled-Together OG Artifacts] (cleverly disguised as the Royal Crown) to [Subsume And Become The Queens Of Tö] for the purpose of [Manipulating Us Into Genocidal Wars] with the goal being the [Eradication Of All But Loyalist Tö] in order to [End An Ancient Old Guy Game] which is [Keeping Her Trapped On This World]. The main takeaway being this: [Reina Never Died] - [She Switched Out A Body]." Humbug lowered his arm - index finger aimed at the heart of the pleading Queen Dixi. "She threw away a piece of herself to [Shame Tö], [Frame Frö] and [Start A War]. After all, what was one more body to the pile, hm?" Sleuthing at the Warlord/Commander: 1d100+80(skillcore)+33(Clues)+10(Dack's Glory)+10(Order)-25(penalty) 110 (that's on a 2, people)
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Dec 1, 2018 05:27
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     Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry +45, Precision +40, Leadership HP: 2/3 Glory: 3->4 Noggins sighed and raised a hand to her temple, fingers brushing up against the edge of the Crown. She really wasn’t looking forward to this. With a glance back at Grimper, she sat down on the edge of the pillar, slowly lowering herself back down. “This isn’t going to be some Grand Talk between nations, Snödis. Just a quick chat between me and you, and probably nothing comes of it. But… I can’t not try. Snödis… Please don’t do this.” She held up a hand to stop the inevitable reaction. She had a lot to say. “I can’t pretend that I know what you’ve been through. I know about the örphanage, but even then, I know that my experiences there were nothing like yours. I can't possibly know how much you've been hurt. But I do know that you never want any to have to go through what you did. I know what it's like to have that kind of conviction driving you. I know how hard it is to take a goal as important to you as that, and trust somebody else with its future." This came with a meaningful glance at Splut. "And I know that I haven't done a lot to deserve that kind of trust from you. The truth is, I've been scared. I can admit that. Ever since Nägel when those... when those wendigoes were released on us. I don't know that I've ever been so terrified, before or since. And afterwards, when Hob was infected, it felt like I was going to be losing him forever. When he survived the Vile Mechanism, it felt like he'd been brought back to life, because, to me, he was Hob again. It's a lovely thing to say, but that's the truth. And when I saw you pushing at every opportunity to infect everything you could, casting whatever might come of it to the wind, even before you became what you are now... well, it reinforced a lot of that, and Neötopia certainly didn't change my mind. When Qwäg was cured, it felt like a window was opened to a world where that fear could be gone. I'm ashamed to say it, but not that long ago I'd have agreed with the Queen on that." "But you can learn a lot in a month. And Dack is a pretty good teacher. Dack put in the work. He came back to Tömate, and he lived. He went about his buisness like anybody else! When I came back from Öxnyard, I spotted him in a crowd. In a crowd! People weren't running away in terror. Why would they? It's Dack! Everyone's heard about Dack! He's a great guy! Sure, he could rip the average person in half without even trying, but he won't, because that's not who he is. I'm not scared of Dack because he's familiar to me. I know him. I trust him. And no, all of the problems monsterists face--or hell, that even Dack specifically faces--went away over a month. Of course not! People are really poo poo about these things! And fear doesn't excuse what they've--what we've done, nor should it. But it explains it. Things started to change because of Dack. And they're going to continue to change." "Neötopia... is pretty much the opposite of that. I know how much you're capable of, Snödis. And it's a hell of a lot. As to the boundaries on what you will do? I've got no idea that they exist. And that's terrifying. I imagine the future, and I imagine a wave of infection spreading across the world consuming everyone in its path. People dying, people going berserk, losing their selves and attacking their own friends and family..." A glance at Trinh this time. "Maybe I'm wrong. I'd certainly like to be wrong. But when you're scared for a long time... it starts to rule you." "So please. Don't just go. I don't want anyone to have to be afraid anymore. Work to perfect the Böterfly. Adopt all the poor monsterist kids you can! Found an art colony! Find more volunteers for the Wendigo life! Write a book of poetry about how I'm the worst queen ever and my woodwork sucks, if you want to! But do it here. Work with me. With us. With Tö. Your people aren't just the ones in Neötopia, alright?" By this point, she'd reached the ground, getting to her feet. "Sorry. That was... a lot longer than I thought. I think one of the artifacts in the crown is something about monologues. It'd explain a lot, really. But I've said my piece. The choice is yours now. But whatever you do... thanks for at least hearing me out."
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Dec 1, 2018 06:43
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Scribbleykins posted:The main takeaway being this:  "You're making the same mistake she is... https://youtu.be/8qq7BtdA0eg "You're forgetting the Töan element. As far as the people of Tö are concerned, the real Reina was appointed their queen, not this entity. In their eyes, she committed an act of regicide against the queen that night. This is untrue, Reina was murdered years before when her mind was subsumed. https://youtu.be/jPJE4l6j-hg Look at the bodies of the handmaidens, not a single core inside. You're correct that the entity discarded a body, but the real Reina had to cease existing in order to acquire it in the first place. Untold generations of handmaidens turned into empty husks, just to keep up a facade. If all the handmaids who were named queen are still within her, suppressed, each has as much claim to the throne as she does. It is her duty to the Tö to relinquish their cores and minds for repatriation into new bodies. The OGs have a facilities full of coreless bodies ready and waiting for someone to activate them. Her fate should be left in their hands.
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Dec 1, 2018 10:37
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     Name: Ringo! HP: 4/4 Glory: 4>5 Skill: Lockpicking+15, Whistling+40(using), Surgery Hotswap Skillcores: Accuracy, Pigilante Justice, Cross Stitching, Bee Keeping, Lifting +15, Firestarting+5, Kissing, Weaving +15, Avoiding Notice Other: Rolls 10d100, may optionally reroll lowest. May either roll an additional 2d100, or grant a reroll to an Ally. Medic Squad - Breaker's Eye (used) It was over. Noggins was Queen now! Or...close to it. He could feel her presence in the air now. She was something wholly different than before. He hoped that she was strong and wise enough to lead them through all the mistakes they definitely just made. A quick glance at Trinh's colossal form brought a pang of doubt into his mind. And then Sikatris and Grimper crashed in. "What the? You're...you're alive?!" The sight of the breaker twisted Ringo up inside, and he had to fight the urge to confront him again. This wasn't good. Nothing was ever neat and tidy in this world; it was the only thing he and the former queen could agree on. This had to end now. Everyone needed to just stop killing and fighting. He dove for his old spear, and in the same motion flung Nailbreaker across the room towards Noggins. He didn't even look - he knew it'd find her hand. She and the others could handle Grimper. There was no stopping her now, surely. With a roll, he landed on his feet standing over the Ex-Queen. Her face was apoplectic, but he could see the strain in her eyes. She wasn't done trying to use her influence to turn Grimper and Noggins. He planted the Wendigoedendag into the floor an inch from her face, hefted Splut's Hammer on his shoulder, and gave a whistle for her attention. "Give up. Relinquish your power. We don't have to do this the hard way. Noggins will give you a fair trial. You know how she is." Convince the Queen to Give Up for her own Health (whistling): 12d100+40+3+4+4 723 [12d100= Reroll that 9: 1d100 13 +4 Total: 727
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Dec 1, 2018 18:08
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The Lord of Hats posted:Please don’t do this.” She held up a hand to stop the inevitable reaction. She had a lot to say.  "No, they aren't. My People are everywhere, but those are the specific peoples being murdered at this very moment. I cannot stress enough how much you don't get it, Your Grace, but at least you are attempting to understand, which is more than I can say for most baseliners. I don't have much time here, and I don't doubt for a second that your Coup will not shed more blood before this night is over, even though odds are looking good that you will win, if Sikatris has been even half as competent as your pet assassin as she has been a commander for Frö during the war. <Here, Snödis gestures to the carnage outside the saferoom to make her point.> Again, I don't have much time, but I do have some. Until my transportation arrives, at the very least, as escaping through the madmist that your friends brought with them would be counter to our continued survival. In short: you fear us because we are different. We fear you because you are all the same. Because for all your good intentions, your solution to the ‘problem’ my People represent in your mind is no different than that of the rulers of old. Yeah, you opposed converting Sikatris, you opposed the old queen. You fought the inhabited. You saw the threat of scouring people of their identities, and it made you too horrified, too disgusted to tolerate it. When I see a state that harbors the Cure, I see the same thing. A genophage designed to strip all Ökind of their potential, their individuality, turning us all into mooks. It is abhorrent, a fate worse than death. You propose in one sentence to bland the world, and in another admit that perhaps you have been hasty in your judgment - can you not see how we are weary of your 'help'? So then, in order: Whom do I trust with our future? Ourselves. Free from the oppression evident in history, free from the notion that being different is death. Yes, Dack has adapted. Yes, Hob and Qwäg are still ostensible alive, having had a taste of true freedom and rejected it. One by the vagaries of cruel OG technology, one out of fear that she would never be accepted otherwise. The fear of a child. And you would keep her that way, forever. A month HAS done a lot. More than you can imagine, even if it all still hangs in the balance because the Old Queen is still out there, murdering the people I have struggled to save. It has showed at least some of us that there is another way. As for where we are going? What that way is? Away from all of this. Away from those would have caused us nothing but grief, and who would have us destroyed. The ignorant masses fear the mad ones amongst us? They caused them. With their madmist and their millennia of oppression, with their paradigm as Monsterists as naught but tools to be discarded. My Peöple are born anew into the wörld with the power of Ringo or beyond at their fingertips, surpassing even the OG’s designs, but with nothing but death at every corner of their perfect, many-eyed vision? How could they not go mad? This chaos is no place to raise a bäbi, just ask Nana. And that is what we are, sadly. Us Neötypes. We are as newborns to our potential. The brand is a temporary solution. Training wheels until things calm down. Until you leave us alone. If you want our cooperation, begin by ending your research into the Cure. Destroy Zapanda's notes and promise to purge the lands of madmist. Allow those Monsterists or Monster-curious who would seek their fortunes elsewhere to do so, and maybe then we can sit around the table of Destiny and talk of a Future together. Until then, my offer remains open, but my verdict is final. Any who would join the Neötype cause, head Fröwards. Send your Envoys tither, your Grace, once you end your slaughter, but otherwise just leave us be."
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Dec 1, 2018 19:20
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super sweet best pal posted:
After Portha's counter came out of nowhere, Humbug reeled, as if struck, and fell back into Nana's surprised embrace. He let out an incredulous 'Hu-... hummm?!', memories of his time with the Muscle Fragment telling him this was an entirely appropriate overreaction. The Sleuth shook his head, curled his hand into a fist and recovered. Looking over at the maniac-looking, self-immolating Portha he assessed her state - and good grief! If anything, Nana should be tending to HER not him! Still, she seemed... roughly sensible. Enough to put some effort into an answer. "Hum... if you think my logic flawed somewhere, this much should be true: [Reina Became A Part Of The Queengestalt]! Whether she 'lives' in a meaningful sense is a different question, which... hum. Sucy! What do you think? Would Portha's suggestion to Restore Individual Personalities From The Gestalt In New Bodies be possible? I'd question the wisdom of handing them a vault full of Ringo-bodies, but those minds the gestalt subsumed had lives once." Humbug then snapped to attention - and snapped his fingers as another thought struck. "On the issue of succession - [There Is No Issue - And Never Was]! All Handmaidens must have [Joined The Queengestalt], well before they [Inherited The Queendom]. The gestalt simply [Successively Succeeded Itself]! Furthermore, if [All The Handmaidens Have No Cores], we can definitely prove that [Tö Has Only Ever Had One Queen] by way of [The Queen's Reliquary]." ... ..... ....... "Great humdinging humpbacked hummingbird - we... we actually have EVIDENCE." A single fat tear rolled down Humbug's face.
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Dec 2, 2018 04:51
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            Name: Verika (& Garnör) HP: 1/1 (1/3) Skills: Perception +65, Smithing +80 (using), Sniping +30 (cooling) Equipment: Knight's Plate (+3), Zahn Trapper Hat (+1), Ruddy Charger, Blixthäst (+5), Tap Root [Proof-Scraper] (+5), Defender Shield Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token (Breaker's Guard), Agenou's Cape Sash, Sikatris Scarf, Basker Cloak, Slightly-Cracked Telescope Glory: 23 -> 24 Ritual Chits: 12 (artwork bonus) Tömate (part 8): From her elevated sniper's spot in the Queen's royal lounge, Verika the Perceiver had seen it all. She'd seen the fighting, the fumbling, the fleeing, the fortifying, the feeding, the farces, the faces, the freaking out, and the flashes of gold glittering in Noggins' eye. The battle between the Unexpectables and Queen Dixi had raged on throughout the opulent Vault's halls. Handmaidens and war heroes alike had gone toe to toe in mortal combat, pitting themselves against each other with whatever weapons they'd either brought or made available. The clamorous, clangorous melee was brutal, violent, messy and chaotic, and Verika had drunk it all in with her senses. In one secluded section of the PoG Vault, Gado the Digger and the Ex-Captain Snödis' Off-Branded Wendigo escort Tö-Pain had somehow managed to clear a hole in the Olivite wall with repeated strikes from Gado's mining pick Osteoclasis and some liberal applications of compacted explosives. At first, Verika had winced from the sharp, tinny scraping sounds each strike against the Olivite had made, but after the boomsticks had been blown wide inside the Vault's enclosed space she didn't much mind the pick's irritating sounds any more. Meanwhile, leading into the main scrum of the battle, Neebs and Splut had each done their damnedest to sway the minds of the undecided Unexpectables into rallying behind their respective causes. All that they produced in the end was inner turmoil and further violence within the ranks of the Unexpectables. Ultimately, a horde divided against itself cannot know success. Verika was just about to fire her Tap Root into the fray, aiming specifically for the spiteful Queen and her hateful Handmaidens, when she saw the monsters within - not the monstrous intelligence behind the eyes of the Royalty, no: she saw the true monsters in the Unexpectables' own numbers, too. Two Branded Wendigos stepped forward during the hullabaloo and distinguished themselves in particular: Snödis, the Ex-Captain of the Neotype Squad, and Trinh the Taxidermist, Snödis' free-spirited and scruple-less cohort. In the midst of all the fighting, one was messily devouring the corpse of a Handmaiden with the fanged mouth of her attached Lepidopteran Horror, and the other had induced in herself a spontaneous transformation into a full-fledged Wendigo, completely by choice. Trinh the Taxidermist was no longer the same Branded Lesser Wendigo that they'd all trusted with their lives before, and Snödis had performed a particularly power-hungry piece of sacrilege by incorporating royal flesh into her monsterist, winged symbiotic parasite. Both Snödis and Trinh were clearly dangerous menaces to Töan civilization, and so long as they remained they presented immediate existential threats to everyone near. Thankfully, Verika didn't have the time to deal with their rash and horrible decisions, as her attentions were forced elsewhere in the madness that ensued. As soon as Captain Noggins placed the Mindbender Crown on herself, her unpatched eye turned a bright shining gold and everything seemed to happen all at once. Flashes of light, wildly fluctuating esprit levels, and explosive waves of green coronal energies washed over the unruly masses, bowling everyone over with potent, hallowed force. Thin blue spindles of sheer cutting energy burst out from a hole cut from the wall and lashed relentlessly at the gold tiles coating every shining surface until the Olivite beneath was laid bare. Keys and Crowns and Rings and Thread all conspired, and somehow a doorway to the outside was found. As soon as the dust and smoke had started settling and the clang and clamor of the feisty fracas had more or less dissipated, Handmaiden Sora was dead, Dixi had been deposed, Trinh had turned Wendigo, and Captain Noggins had been Queened. Just as suddenly, Grimper and Sikatris burst into the lounge. It would seem that their reinforcements had arrived! Without a doubt, the Unexpectables had gotten the war-mongering Queen exactly where they wanted her, along with the last of the remaining Commanders of the Frö! The power of several nation-states was laid bare before them, theirs to control if only they played their cards right, and fast! Queen Noggins had the majority of the horde backing her at this point. All they had to do now was to collectively agree on a single course of action on how best to deal with the Queen Dixi and the Handmaidens, and to take things from there. Once that was all done, they could negotiate a peace agreement between Tö, Frö and Neötopia too, and finally the whole world could witness a long-lasting period of growth, stability, and prosperity, the likes of which had never been seen before! Verika could see the golden path shining ahead of them. Finally, the Great Tö-Frö War could be put to an end! The cycle of violence might actually be broken, too, if only they could lay the groundwork for peace here and now. All they had to do was work together. - - - "Oh no you don't, you misanthropic monsterist miscreant! How dare you show up late and make a big crazy speech full of false rhetoric and outrageous demands and then try to leave early before anyone can get a word in edgewise!" Verika was heard muttering to herself as she stormed angrily towards the Vault's exit, where Queen Noggins and Ex-Captain Snödis were busy holding an intense discussion between themselves. Verika shoved and shouldered her way past several gawking mooks in order to position herself between Snödis and the Vault's recently opened portal. She waited patiently for the moment when Snödis would inevitably turn her back on the newly-crowned Queen Noggins. When she did, Verika would intercept the Neötype delegate with a hand outraised. "Not so fast, Snödis! You're not going anywhere!" Verika staunchly planted herself between the monstrous lesser Wendigo and the royal Vault's exit and raised her artifact weapon's barrel to Snödis' eye level. Tap Root was held high, armed and poised to strike. "I'm warning you!" Verika cautioned. "The Queen told you you are NOT TO LEAVE until we sort this all out." "Sir-" Verika's eyes flicked momentarily over to Noggins' lone golden eye. "your Highness, if I may address the Neötopian delegate further-?" She took the Queen's momentary silence as her tacit approval. "Wake up to reality, Snödis - What do you think you're going to achieve by leaving Tömate so soon? The fastest way to save your people is by going through Queen Noggins and her link to the Queen's Handmaidens, NOT through whatever you're planning on doing by running off to Neötopia on the Reina's Revenge or Yacht-Sothoth or whatever else you've decided to name your off-Branded flying warbeast." Verika realized she was letting personal matters cloud her judgment, but she didn't care. There was something fundamentally off about Snödis' line of thinking, and there always had been, she'd figured, ever since the self-Branding operation where Snödis willingly fused herself to Hob's Crimsonwing. After all, did the power-hungry lesser Wendigo really think she could fly all the way back to her home village in less time than it would take to disable the Handmaiden Carlena from afar with the combined might of the Crown, the Ring, and Mindbender network? As time had shown, again and again, the Unexpectables were so much more powerful and resourceful when they worked together to overcome the wrongs of the world. The fact that Snödis was blind to what the rest of the Unexpectables could offer her in skillful assistance was evidence of her own madness. Verika spoke to the imposing winged monsterist, cool-headed and collected. "Listen to Queen Noggins, Snödis. There are faster ways to stop all the violence if you'd only stay here and talk things through. That means you can't leave until preliminary agreements are drawn between the nation-states involved." "Furthermore-" Verika stepped slightly to the side to stay directly in front of Snödis' glowing eyes, deep-set into her cracked mask face. Defiant, Verika the Perceiver stared the Wendigo leader down, aiming at the barely Töan monster down the Tap Root's barrel. "You have something that doesn't belong to you, Snödis, and I intend to facilitate its proper return. I can't - I won't let you leave until you return what you stole to its rightful owner." "Hand over the Lepidopteran Horror's Chrysalis, Snödis, and no one gets hurt. That Crimsonwing never asked for the existence you and Trinh have forced on it, and it deserves a better life as a full fledged monarch butterfly. Now that it has ingested royal flesh, it's roughly apart of the Queen's Handmaiden network - the same network that Queen Noggins is connected to - for that reason alone it's going to need to be Cured and given back to its original owner, Hob." "Again, Snödis, I'm not asking on this front. I have a Cure Nail right here, locked and loaded and ready to go. You're not leaving this Palace with a piece of the Queen in your butterfly's gullet, not when Noggins is Queen - not on my watch." Verika's Cure-Nail versus Snödis' Lepidopteran Horror: Caterkiller of a Monarch-muncher!: 2d100+108 287 - Tap Root used!
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Dec 3, 2018 14:15
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"I beg your pardon?" Snödis asked without missing a beat. "Whoever asked for your existence, tktk??" "Now, to be clear, the crimsonwing I received was a gift, given by Hob of his own free will, but the fully grown Nietzsctö is now a part of me as much as anything can be said to be a part of anything else. But if you insist on literally pulling his guts (and mine) out to soothe your addled, misguided attempt at empathy, why would you then immediately cast him back into a life of animalian slavery, when you insist his sentience is enough to separate him from me, his caretaker and supposed jailor? Clearly the only reasonable course of action is to ask Nietzsctö himself what he wants to do with his life. I'm sure there is someone with a Butterfly Whisperer Core around here somewhere. I assure you I have no trouble staying until this matter is sorted out, given that it is placed as the second highest priority of the day, after this whole Cöup d'étät business which I understand is of some concern to you. And if it should so be the case that Nietzsctö wishes to be free of me, I would not trust anyone above Trinh to preform the necessary surgeries, though I suppose your own Gryph should also attend to ensure the spirit of jolly co-operation. In return, of course, I would see the same courtesy of freedom be extended to Jaunterfly, whom by all accounts was conceived after a similar fashion." "As for why I'm leaving, I believed I made myself perfectly clear. I'm going to save the people who trusted their lives with my cause. Even if you magically deal with Carlena from here, there will still have been casualties to deal with in Neötöpia, not to mention tempers and my peöples worries of if the madmist attack was just the first of many. I am needed back home to diffuse any such worries, as I believe that there may one day be Peace between our nations. Though regrettably your attitude tonight shakes even my ironclad conviction. Honestly, Verika, what are you thinking with? Is this how you imagine negotiations should be handled, with one party lording over the other through force of arms? How do you imagine my peöple would take it when they hear that their Comräde, having gone to Tö on a mission of Peace, was stripped of her Monsterism and murdered even after receiving promise of Diplömatic Immunity? Not well, I should think. Not well at all. So put down your jury-rigged OG contraption and cast that foul bullet aside, for Peace, Verika, and if not for that, then For the Horde!
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Dec 3, 2018 15:31
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 //   //  Name: Waesh Skills: Piracy +40, Grappling +25, Romance +15 (using) HP: 3/3 Glory: 5 -> 6 "I feel like I've been saying this a lot lately, but you have got to be bloody kidding me!" He ducked for cover as Silkatris and Grimper showed up on the scene. "And I thought fighting a queengestalt OG monstrosity was the worst this day would get!" He could certainly appreciate how Grimper felt walking in on this. Waesh was loyal to Grimper and the crown, but he could always see the direction others were coming from when they had opposed him. Now though, finding Ringo splattering the queen... well, it'd be all of his worst suspicions come to life. Well, Waesh wasn't a Ringo, not a Noggins, and he didn't have Splut's silver tongue, but he was going to step up and give it his all. He sheathed his sword and stepped out into the open. "Grimper! I know you don't want to hear this now, and I know that I'm little more than another traitorous bastard at this point, but you've got to listen! This looks bad, looks like you were always right about Ringo and Noggins, but it isn't that simple! That's no queen, it's an OG crazed amalgamation! She doesn't care a whit for you, for the Breakers, or for Tö! All she wants is to strangle the freedom that you fought for!" Beneath his coat, he fingered the bottle of Sacrifire. Not yet, it hadn't come to that yet... "I know you don't want to believe me, but you have to trust me! It might seem crazy, but remember: we're the Unexpectables! YOUR Unexpectables! You sacrificed your own gear and capabilities because you had faith in us! Together, WE created the cure for wendigoism! WE used the skipping lane to end the war! You have to believe in us!" Emotional appeal to Grimper: 1d100+6+15 Captainicus fucked around with this message at 17:14 on Dec 3, 2018 |
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Dec 3, 2018 15:46
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Nana the Elder "Stop! Stop this! Please!" Nana stood at the edge of the crowd forming around the tense standoff, a look of horror on her face. A hordemate took up Humbug and she passed him Ringo's shield. "I'll be back in a moment, please stay safe." Nana stepped into the clearing that had formed around the group. Verika was sighting Snödis down the barrel of her Tap Root, Trinh peered over the proceedings with an unnerving interest, and Noggins, her back to Nana, argued with Snödis in an exhausted tone. Nana moved into the middle, stepping in front of Snödis, and looking at Verika with pleading eyes. "Please, I don't know how you feel about her, but Snödis is right, she needs to get back to her home. The people there are dying. Her family is dying! They need her, and she needs to be there protecting them!" She turned, "And Noggins..." Her eyes went wide as Noggins fixed her with her golden gaze. She dipped her head, bowing into a deep curtsy. "I... I mean... Your Majesty... I..." Her fire deserted her, her voice becoming tiny and uncertain in the presence of the newly crowned queen. "I... Think you should let Snödis go home, even if it would be better if you could solve everything now. I think... I think there's been too much hurt to solve things that easily. I think it's going to take a lot of work and a lot of compromise to keep everything... everyone together, but I think..." She looked up and met Noggins' gaze again. "I believe you're the kind of person who can do it." Nana turned and looked up at the woman behind her. Snödis wore a mask, but Nana could almost feel the emotions coming off of her. Anger and vindication warring with sadness and resignation and beneath it all, the grim steel of her determination. The weight of it all made Nana's heart want to break. She threw her arms around the taller woman, and the emotion returned to her voice. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that this happened to you, to your people. You don't deserve it. None of you do, and you never have. It's not right. It's not fair." Nana leaned her head against Snödis' armor and sighed. "It's not fair of me to ask this of you. Not after all that's happened, but please dear, please trust Noggins, at least enough to Teach her. At least trust her to be willing to learn. I know you both want peace... I believe you can build it together." Nana pulled back, eyes downcast again. "I don't know if it's possible but... I want to prove that the Queen is wrong. I want this to be a world where we don't have to fight any more. I want to prove that we can be better. I want... I want..." Her mind flashed back, Bäbi was laughing and clapping as Snödis played peek-ä-boo with her. Nana had never seen Snödis' face so peaceful, so happy. "I want to live in a world where Bäbi gets to have her auntie Snödis in her life." BHB fucked around with this message at 20:38 on Dec 3, 2018 |
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Dec 3, 2018 17:40
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  Sucy HP: 3/3 Glory: 2 -> 3 Skills: Mushrooms +40 Kicking +50 Science +60 Aspiring Nailsmith: Every Downtime, Sucy can roll 1d10 and spend the result in any combination to reduce the cost of the Ritual(s) of her choice. Breaker’s Hands: Once per conflict, each individual Sieger can make an additional roll towards building fortifications or other sieging gear tailored towards the conflict. Additionally, double the bonus on consumables used for violent combat use. As Noggins grabbed hold of the QueenNet, it became obvious that this conflict was nearly over, but the next one was already developing, as Snödis was Snödis and her rigid beliefs would inevitably lead to conflict with her nation. It didn't help that Verika antagonized her further. Sucy was watching the debate between the different horde members, when Humbug asked her a question: Scribbleykins posted:"Hum... if you think my logic flawed somewhere, this much should be true: [Reina Became A Part Of The Queengestalt]! Whether she 'lives' in a meaningful sense is a different question, which... hum. Sucy! What do you think? Would Portha's suggestion to Restore Individual Personalities From The Gestalt In New Bodies be possible? I'd question the wisdom of handing them a vault full of Ringo-bodies, but those minds the gestalt subsumed had lives once." As she gave her analysis to Humbug a thought formed in the back of her head. Given Snödis convictions it'd be inevitable that her brainchild of Neotöpia would inevitably pose a risk to the rest of the world, as Snödis instability was readily apparent. If there was to be conflict, then Snödis would pose a considerable obstacle, given the immortality bestowed upon her by her OG artifact. But right now she was distracted and right here, so now was the best time to do something about this. She slipped on her ring and dove into the dark world to interface with it and turn it off. Deactivate the Soma Wire: 2d100+60+2 219
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Dec 4, 2018 13:24
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      COSMETIC ITEMS:  Name: Snorkus Skills: Pigilante Justice+30 (using), Gazing+10, Rolling+30 (cooldown) Item Cooldowns: Utility "Belt" HP: 1/1 Glory: 4 -> 5 Notes: Vile Mechanism Survivor, Mount Left At Home  Snorkus stood by Ringo, adding his own hogsiderable menace to his adorable Piglet's own spirited and youthful attempt to sow the ex-Queen's further struggles. Subdue the Queen with JUSTICE!: 2d100+30+5+3 200
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Dec 4, 2018 17:03
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   Ruby Skills: Waitressing (+20) (using), Acting, Oratory (+25) (cooldown) HP: 2/3 -> 3/3 Glory: 1 -> 2 Sometimes, life just isn't fair. Ringo, a Töan so startlingly potent that slapping him five had actually set Ruby's broken bones... how exactly was she meant to match up to that level of expertise? And that feeling had only gotten stronger since Queen Noggins acquired material godhood and Trinh went even more Wendigo... sure, she'd spent the last minute or so trying to get her roller skates' wheels unstuck (these were her formal skates, pog-dammit), but did that make her any less of a Horde member? ...Ruby slapped her own face and forced her distracted brain back into the game. Just like always, her Horde's weakness -- its inattentiveness to certain distressed persons, like a potentially-friendly commander bleeding out on the floor -- was showing. She rolled into action -- or tried, and immediately tripped on a stuck wheel and almost broke her nose ramming a carpet which was undoubtedly worth more than every single organ in her body, sold at market price to a desperate rich man. So she yanked off the skates and hurled them in... some direction (if they happened to hit someone in the face, well, she never claimed to be attentive, per se), then proceeded in her socks, maneuvering around incipient arguments/murderous violence by dint of looking as irrelevant as possible, until she reached a point near Sikatris's ear. Taking a prone position near a few twitching Inhabited, she located a blue-threaded vein on Sikatris's neck and readied her Shockgasp. "Psst. Commander Sikatris, hon -- er, ma'am? I don't exactly work for you -- well, never mind. I'm going to jab you with a shockgasp, hon. Stimulants and adrenaline and... oh, who knows what else, but it's all healthy. Should get you on your feet. Would appreciate it if you take a moment to suss out the situation before you make a move -- I'd like to think we can settle this without any more Grimping, considering one of ours -- Noggins -- is a good sight stronger than the monster Queen right now. Ah, the monster Queen is the one with a nail in her hand." Ruby hesitated, but... well, it wasn't like patriotism made a lot of sense after your head of state declared that her state existed for the explicit purpose of exterminating your kind from the face of the planet. "It's nice to see another red face, ma'am. Let's make sure we're not the last, alright?" Then she shoved in the Shockgasp and depressed the trigger. Once that started working its wonders -- insofar as a Commander's body was going to respond to that tiny medical miracle, plus hastily-applied medical supplies which she'd grabbed off the medics who couldn't be arsed to do their jobs, come on -- Ruby jammed herself between Sikatris's neck and the ground, and applied all her not-inconsiderable Ascended strength to getting the Commander naturally to her feet. Sikatris Needs Some Speedy Service (Waitressing): 2d100+20+1 200 Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 17:42 on Dec 4, 2018 |
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Dec 4, 2018 17:38
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   Skills:Spreading Disease (+40), Cursing(+15)[CD], Patience(+30) HP: 3/3 Glory: 21 An incensed Grumbus tried to brush the lye off his dress uniform. He shouted at the still twitching body of the High Janithör, "Lye? Bloody lye? Were you trying to insult me to death? Ugh, as if this suit wasn't ruined enough." At least she didn't get any on his still-pristine kepi. Grumbus hocked a loogie on the rapidly putrefying semi-corpse and turned to look at his rescuer. He offered the giant wendigo a genuine thumbs up and a smile. "drat, Trinh. You're looking badass.", he wheezed, "Thanks fo-one sec." Grumbus doubled over for a moment to add some puke to the Janithör melange. "gently caress me.", a spent Grumbus groaned, "Shouldn't have drank and plagued. And ate all that shrimp. Ugh." The horde's plaguebearer removed another one of his grubby cigarettes from its case and lit up. "Sorry about that. As I was saying, thanks for the assist. You really-" Grumbus yelped as he was grabbed up by Trihn's massive claws. "What are you bloody doing?", he tried to squirm around as Trinh took hold of his head to no avail, "Ow, ow, OW!" What was she even doing? After a second, Grumbus realized what she was doing but wasn't sure why. Obviously not checking for hydrocephalus, despite his best attempts to catch it. Phrenology? No, anybody with any sense knew phrenology was bullshit. Oh wait, was she? Oh no. No, no, no! A horrified Grumbus went deathly still and began looking for something, anything to get out of the situation. Whatever emotion was on Trinh's face, in her eyes was indiscernable. The area around her brand seemed bloated and swollen. What were those things for again? Venting excess purple stuff? After what seemed like an eternity, the wendigo finally set Grumbus back down, who promptly scurried behind a section of the cushion fort to have a stress induced cry/throwup. After he was done, he snuck over to where Snödis and Verika where having some kind of standoff. "Sorry to interrupt whatever dumbass argument you're having.", he rasped, "Snödis, need to talk to you." Grumbus lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper, "I think Trinh might need her brand expanded or maybe another one. What she has isn't keeping up in, uh, venting the...purple shite. [sub]I think she wants to taxidermy me, for gently caress's sake.[sub] I'm willing to chip in for your weird ritual thingy if that's what it takes, but I'm real worried here." --- After that business was taken care of, Grumbus dove back behind the velvety walls of the cushion fort. "Headmaster Stårn, I wanna talk about our fundraising model. I don't think takin' money from the Queen and the bloody nobs (what's left of em') isn't the way to go. I don't wanna owe anything to these fuckin' pricks. I wanna teach and run things the way I want to, with no obligations." Grumbus picked up a bejeweled hairbrush from the ground and shoved it into his pockets. "I say we move to more of a 'self funded' model. Gado's just about done with his hole and there's a whole ballroom full of gold and jewels outside. And that's not even including the stuff under lock and key! Whatdya say, boss?" Patiently Rob the Palace Blind: 1d100+30+21 113 "Remember, check to see if it has Monsterism before you toss it in the sack. Nobody wants to buy a bitey fuckin' necklace."
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Dec 4, 2018 20:27
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    Name: Stårn Skills: Siege Weapons +45, Butterfly Beastmaster +20, Timing +30 HP: 3/3 Glory: 21->22 Stårn grinned his Sieging grin as he was wont as Nana took shelter in his makeshift fort. That lady had some guts, he had to admit. Would make a good Sieger later, perhaps? He'd have to send recruiting pamphlets to her home later on, at any rate. But it was when Sergeant Grumbus spoke when his interest was piqued. "Ah! I see you take your lessons to heart, Sergeant! Self reliance is the Heart of Sieging, after all. But there is something you fail to consider!" Stårn grabbed Grumbus by the shoulder, having grown both comfortable and perhaps also partially immune enough with the unspeakably gross man to do so, and performed a sweeping flourish with his other arm as if to showcase some imaginary horizon, "See, who knows the True Nature of Sieging in this realm? Us. That is to say, not our patrons. Indeed, our sales speeches are just a form of social Sieging as well. With the right words, we can convince them of anything really, who are they to dispute our plans for Siege development as the reigning Siege experts after all! They will nod along and hand us their money and pretend they understand whilst we do whatever we please with it. Yes, we will Siege the very institutions of state before long, until the funding for Siege will become so ingrained to everything that to stop funding it would become unthinkable. We will create a Siege-industrial complex, in time, and with patience." "What I mean to say is, of course, is that we should do both that and your thing. No avenue of funding for Siege should ever be closed off, after all. We Siege down bridges only when necessary for our grand strategy." His grin grew a little bit wider, and he got to work with his second-in-command. Sieging the Palace to reappropriate some highly valuable treasures : 2d100+660=237
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Dec 4, 2018 20:46
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry +45, Precision +40, Leadership HP: 2/3 Glory: 3->4 Snödis’s answer was… disappointing. Noggins hadn’t really expected any differently—this was Snödis, after all—but it stung all the same. She’d reached out, admitted flaws, asked for help… and been slapped down. It stung, but she could handle some bruised feelings. She’d been through worse. And maybe she just still wasn’t seeing things. But when Snödis’s speech turned towards Hob and Qwäg, when she dismissed them for as good as dead, and it became abundantly clear that her vision of freedom only extended as far as “freedom to make choices that Snödis likes,” Noggins bristled, Nailbreaker becoming noticeably thornier. The Taproot bolt that Verika let loose into Snödis’s presently-detached wings, the now-noticeable flicker of Sucy doing something, both felt like an extension of the anger surging within her. Her grip on Nailbreaker tightened. Nana posted:Nana the Elder Noggins exhaled, the fury retreating back into the box where it belonged. She held up a hand. “Enough. There is a time and a place for this. As long as Reina is still around, it is neither. Let’s demonstrate that we can deal with that particular problem before we start turning on each other, okay?” Noggins took a deep breath, skimming as deeply as she dared from the knowledge stored within the crown. Centuries upon centuries of stored rulership, at her proverbial fingertips. It hurt, but as Splut would be quick to point out, she had a responsibility to all of Tö now. And that was rarely going to be easy or fun. “Snödis… if that’s how it is, very well. You’re the head of a foreign power. Congratulations. Now you get to do the hard part. At the moment, you don’t have any formally recognized territory, so you’re going to need to negotiate with Frö for the land you’re currently on—I believe Sikatris would be their leader until such time as they’re able to organize a successor. Please let us know when you get your borders settled. I’m not sure what your food situation is like, but I can’t imagine it’s very good at the moment, being the middle of winter—foreign aid is certainly a possibility, but there’s going to be talks before that happens, and the shipments will take time to arrange. Likewise for trade routes. I share your positions on Madmist, but the Cure’s existence is non-negotiable.” “So go. Give your people all the aid that you, Trinh, Tö-pain, and Yacht-Sothoth can provide. I mean that, sincerely. But you’re a part of the world, Snödis. A big part. Too big to exist in a vacuum. Go give your people the help they need. I truly hope that I’ll see you again soon.
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Dec 5, 2018 00:30
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  :;Name: Hat Skills: Millinery (+25), Backflips (+35) Squad: Infiltrator (Shares items with other squadmembers, gets double bonuses from consumables used outside combat) HP: 1/3 Equipment: Glory: 37 -> 38 The golden gleam from Stay down, Dixi! (with Backflips): 2d100+37+35+10 217
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Dec 5, 2018 01:35
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    Name: Dack Skills: A̵̕t̷͢͡͏̡h̷͟͡͏ļ̵̶̧̀ę̷̢͡t̨̧͘i̵̕҉̴͡c̢͘͜͠s͏̨́̕ (Using), Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ (used last round), Laughing +40 HP: 1 Glory: 0>1 So apparently they weren't going to finish off the genocidal Queen Hivemind, instead now was the time for everyone to start shouting at each other. At least Noggins seemed to genuinely try to treat Snödis as an equal, as a person, but like she guessed, Snödis was scared. And why shouldn't she be? The previous Queen had just lured her to the capital in order to hold Neötöpia hostage, further reinforcing her idea that so-called "baseliners" would never truly accept monsterists or Wendigoes. Tonight was probably Snödis's worst nightmare come true, and now others were trying to get her to stay and talk when the people of Neötöpia, the people who had trusted Snödis enough to become Branded Wendigoes, were under attack. Of course she'd refuse! But now that refusal, that fear, was being taken as hostility, and Verika was already using the pretense of "saving" the Crimsonwing in order to use force. Dixi was still right there, slowly trying to regain her strength, but now Dack was forced to turn his attention away from the Queen Hivemind. He didn't agree with his former Captain's methods, but even if it was no longer possible to free her from her fear, Dack couldn't just let her be attacked out of sheer paranoia. Neither would he attack a fellow horde member, even if they had clearly lost their mind, as any in-fighting could lead to Dixi turning the tables or escaping. So Dack simply put his large frame between Verika and Snödis as he continued to flex and pose. Going to try to intercept any attack sent Snödis's way. If my previous roll to flex and power-up doesn't apply to this, I'm fine with treating Dack as rolling a zero, letting him take the hit instead of Snödis.
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Dec 5, 2018 01:46
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Potrait:      Naim: Mason! Statuz: rear end ENDED Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' +45 Mason Masonry MasonDirty Fighting+25 HeeP: Mason Mason Mason? Glury: Masonx6 -> 7 Mason drops down from Ringo, noting the devastation already in place, wondering what he can do next. Mason takes a break from physical carnage and barges into the conversation taking place, offering what jumble of words he can: "Will, eye reckun Hur Majeestee Quinn Renal hez gotta goo, bet wee ken't halve anuder teking hur plaice", as Mason points a finger at the Captain-Queen. "Keptain Nuggets, wee knead yoo teh fenish dem owf wonce en fer awl. Bet ye shure az heel ken't taik der plaic edur. Eye, end de rast ef de Whored wun't awlowl et." Mason hocks a big disgusting loogie on the ground to accentuate his next point. "Deez Royales our fool ef sheet. Wee down't knead 'em. Lettuce fenush dis know." Mason then lets out a giant hoot and holler of epic proportions, and... Dirty Fightin' to ride the Queen Reina like a mechanical bull!: 2d100+31+5 reedblade 132 HiHo ChiRho fucked around with this message at 02:19 on Dec 5, 2018 |
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Dec 5, 2018 02:16
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Name: Verika (& Garnör) HP: 1/1 (1/3) Skills: Perception +65, Smithing +80 (using), Sniping +30 (cooling) Equipment: Knight's Plate (+3), Zahn Trapper Hat (+1), Ruddy Charger, Blixthäst (+5), Tap Root [Proof-Scraper] (+5), Defender Shield Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token (Breaker's Guard), Agenou's Cape Sash, Sikatris Scarf, Basker Cloak, Slightly-Cracked Telescope Glory: 24 Ritual Chits: 12 (artwork bonus) Tömate (part 9): Verika didn't understand half the reasons why people were jumping out of the woodwork to come to Snödis' defense in this particular matter, especially when it involved bylaws of regal succession, peace agreements, territorial rights, animal rights, Wendigo rights, bloodline matters, sacrilege, and so much more. Of course they didn't want more bloodshed: that's precisely why Verika had been trying to get the Neötopian delegate Snödis to stay put and sort things out personally. Apparently, Verika's gambit had worked to stall the Lesser Wendigo leader long enough to talk - in a fashion. In her typical way, Ex-Captain Snödis the Disapproving Poet had rounded on Verika and responded at great length to the Peceiver's accusations, her condescension and disregard for Töan laws plain. Verika allowed the masked Monsterist to ramble on about her personal convictions and to make excuses for her terrifying life choices, but the fact remained that Verika didn't trust the dictatorial Wendigo-commander whatsoever. It was hard to put faith in someone who had just admitted to having amassed an army of Branded Lesser Wendigos from her entire populace and then eaten the body of a Queen's Handmaiden before her very eyes. At the very least, the Yino-eater Snödis had admitted that peace talks between Tö, Frö, and Neötopia could be possible... At some point during the Monsterist's meandering monologue, Nana the Elder and Dack the Lesser Wendigo Athlete had each sidled up in front of Snödis to protect her with their disparate frames. Nana, that bleeding heart of a Motherer, didn't want to see any more of the Unexpectables die before her - expectably understandable. Dack, for his own personal reasons, must obviously understand or at least tolerate Snödis' approach to Monsterism. At some point during the emotionally-heated event, Grumbus the Disease-Spreader managed to make a clearing through some mooks and muttered something to Snödis about the managing their new Wendigo, Trinh the Taxidermist. It was utter chaos for a while. Verika kept her weapon raised. She didn't care about their reasons for being there, just that they were in the way of her shot. Her target was on Snödis' back, after all. She needed to remove, Cure, or else kill the Lepidopteran Horror that had devoured Handmaiden Yino. It had already begun the process of entering into its metamorphic state, to be transformed into PoGs know what kind of monstrosity. It had to be stopped soon or else the Queen's power - Queen Noggins' power - could be subverted and manipulated and weaponized by an unstable Monsterist dictator with a fanged chip on her shoulder. Verika didn't fire - yet - she was waiting for Snödis to turn her back on the Unexpectables before she made her shot. Queen Noggins stepped forward and held out a commanding hand for a silence she dutifully received from all those present. In all her regal majesty, Noggins could be trusted to bring her own sensible input to the dispute! Queen Noggins posted:“Enough. There is a time and a place for this. As long as Reina is still around, it is neither. Let’s demonstrate that we can deal with that particular problem before we start turning on each other, okay?” "But Sir -" Verika interjected, "Your Highness - I watched her Monsterized butterfly-parts eat the corpse of Handmaiden Yino. She, it, Niechtö, whatever it is that's inside that cocoon on Snödis' back - it cannot be allowed to leave the Palace without being Cured of Monsterism first! It has the Handmaidens' power growing inside it - the way I see things the [game] won't end until Tö and Frö and Neötopia all fight for succession..." Queen Noggins' imposing glare and outheld hand silenced Verika once again. The Queen resumed speaking as though Verika wasn't even there. Queen Noggins posted:“Snödis… if that’s how it is, very well. You’re the head of a foreign power. Congratulations. Now you get to do the hard part. At the moment, you don’t have any formally recognized territory, so you’re going to need to negotiate with Frö for the land you’re currently on—I believe Sikatris would be their leader until such time as they’re able to organize a successor. Please let us know when you get your borders settled. I’m not sure what your food situation is like, but I can’t imagine it’s very good at the moment, being the middle of winter—foreign aid is certainly a possibility, but there’s going to be talks before that happens, and the shipments will take time to arrange. Likewise for trade routes. I share your positions on Madmist, but the Cure’s existence is non-negotiable.” Verika's resolve wavered momentarily, but she kept her weapon raised and pointed at Snödis, Nana, Dack, and the others. "Wait! Your Highness! I'm sorry that I speak out of turn, really, but I must protest. You would let a Lesser Wendigo with a Secretly Murdering Innocents skillcore go on to lead a rogue state of Branded Wendigo in the heart of Frö territory? Sir - I witnessed that thing on her back devour the body of a Queen's Handmaiden - are you really sure you want Ex-Captain Snödis the Secretive Murderer of Innocents to have access to that kind of Queen-linked power, in a region outside your own control?" Verika shook her head to dispel the wrenching in her gut from speaking to Noggins the Queen in such a brazen way. This was getting her nowhere, fast - it was time to get down to brass tacks. "Your Majesty, I'm sorry but before Snödis leaves I must insist that she submit a vial of the Lepidopteran Horror's blood (if not her own) for analysis, as a show of good faith. She takes a little bit of the royal blood, we take a little bit of hers. Fair is fair. No one else needs to die today." "Thankfully," Verika paused, lowered her weapon and held it diagonally across her chest, the barrel of the Tap Root pointed harmlessly towards the ceiling. "if there's no medical supplies handy the Tap Root can also be used to draw blood in a relatively safe fashion." Verika took a few cautious steps towards Snödis and her protectors. She adjusted a dial on the Tap Root with her thumb. "Hold still, Snödis, this may pinch a bit..." Verika's Cure-Nail versus Snödis' Lepidopteran Horror: Caterkiller of a Monarch-muncher!: 2d100+108 287 - Tap Root used! Verika intends to use the Tap Root to draw Snödis' blood for use in a special Nailsmithing project (non-combat)!
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Dec 5, 2018 07:36
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Somewhat calmed by the words of Nana and the rallying of Dack, Snödis met Verikas latest request. "That is far more reasonable yes, especially if it's this 'Queen Gestalt' you worry about. I have no intention of letting her genöcidial mind take control of me or any part of my body. But whatever part of her remained in the corpse that Niechztö et, I doubt it would have any connection to his inherent monsterism - if you must be assured that this is true, why don't you have Sucy poke around in there to nip that possibility in the bud, so to speak, and let my coocooning back-buddy mature in peace, afterwards? That said, if you will not relent without a measure of my blood as payment, I would rather Grumbus personally handle my impending blood transfusion than let you anywhere near my body with your Cure, though ah, perhaps Gryph would be better suited for the task. After all, I wouldn't want to ruin any of Grumbus's precious plagues by accident. And I doubt even Somawire could save me from a case of the übersniffles. Is that enough for you, then? The Queens Mind Squashed or Extracted or whatever you will do with it, a jar of Blood and a promise of at least an attempt at future talks? In return Trinh and I head home with Yacht Sottoth to calm our wounded nation whilst you rebuild your own, and any Butterfly Whisperers that can be wrangled are to be sent to Neötöpia to settle the affair of Butterfly Sentience once and for all - with another offer extended to Gryph should any surgery be needed. I understand you will not cease production of the Cure and I imagine that might pose problems in the future, how could my people ever feel safe knowing that at any moment a glory-seeking Tö might end their very way of existence with but a bottle of poison? Though I suppose it at least leaves the survivors with their minds relatively intact, which is less than what I can say for the vile Madmist. Scourge that from your lands, at the very least, and promise to release any Monsterist or Friendingo who would leave for Neötöpia rather than be subject to your cure or execution, and our talks can at least begin on neutral terms. As for Frö, what even remains of it? Sikatris, wounded and bleeding out in that corner over there? The head of King Regis in some box? Ruby, the waitress? If she wishes to discuss borders with us she is free to join the talks later as the representative of the working class of Frö, together with any comrädes she can find or any that would claim their throne from the ashes. Ah, and Grumbus, if you wish to work with us on the Branding Ritual by all means, you are invited to try, If it would save the mind of even one of my peöples... What I would not give to see them all so lucky. And for what its worth, Your Grace, make no mistake, I always did enjoy your woodworking; but imagine the quality it could Ascend to if you had an extra arm or three to wield your hammers and to hold the wood in place, or the quality that might be achieved if the wood was given a mind of its own post-manufacture? That you limit yourself so shall always baffle me, even as you brim with taken Power, but to each their own." (Thank the PoG's for Humbug Time, allowing us to Drama so much in what is actually a quiet serious and time-sensetive boss-fight) (tl/dr sure, but i'd rather Gryph handle any transfusions or that Sucy try to siphon away the Queen Gestalt in virtu.) Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 11:15 on Dec 5, 2018 |
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Dec 5, 2018 10:22
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry +45, Precision +40, Leadership HP: 2/3 Glory: 3->4 Prince of Space posted:
Noggins pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the Queen, the crown, the stress of the entire situation, or simple frustration at the fact that this entire conversation had to be taking place right now. “Verika, I understand your concerns. Believe me, I do. And you’re right—I hadn’t truly considered what might result from that… consumption. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. However…” Noggins reached over and took hold of Taproot’s barrel, gently but firmly pushing it around so that it was pointed at Queen Dixi. “However, there are more immediate concerns on my mind right now, if you’ll excuse the pun. Like putting an end to the war that she is currently waging on my sense of self. Call me selfish, but I think making sure I don’t get turned into another copy of her is a priority here, and one you are well-equipped to handle.” Swedish Thaumocracy posted:
“Yes, if you could report to Gryph for a sample before you go, that would be appreciated—and that you were generous enough to go along with this will be remembered. I’d ask that you check with Sucy as well—she sees more than the rest of us, after all, and I can’t imagine it would take long at all. “As for Frö, that would be Sikatris at the moment, yes. Frö was beaten, but its people are a stronger network than you give them credit for. Shared ideals are a powerful bond, after all, as I’m sure you know. Once they don’t have occupation forces stomping on their necks, I fully expect they’ll bounce back faster than you’d think—and it doesn’t hurt that a war hero returning from a suicide raid to avenge Frö is a pretty powerful symbol to rally around. Yes, it’d be easier for both of us if Ruby was the one in charge, but we’re both going to have our hands more than full without also trying to prop up an imposed ruler at the same time.” Snodis[/quote posted:And for what its worth, Your Grace, make no mistake, I always did enjoy your woodworking; but imagine the quality it could Ascend to if you had an extra arm or three to wield your hammers and to hold the wood in place, or the quality that might be achieved if the wood was given a mind of its own post-manufacture? That you limit yourself so shall always baffle me, even as you brim with taken Power, but to each their own." Despite herself, despite everything going on, Noggins smiled softly. “You know, Snödis, I can see where you’re coming from. It’s a place that doesn’t know the first thing about woodworking, but I can see where you’re coming from. So thanks for the offer, but I learned the cost of shortcuts a long time ago. What I make, I’ll make with my own two hands, the hard way. And you'll have your own approach. And we'll just see where it all goes.”
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Dec 6, 2018 00:00
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  (on loan)  // HP:1/3 Glory: 37 Bluffing +90 (using) Planning +10 (cooldown) Ritual Glory: 0 Infiltrator Captain Ascended Spymaster Splut wore an expression of ineffable sadness as he looked upon Neebs and her subdued seven. This was precisely what he had striven so hard to avoid, and making sure that injuries were minimised and fatalities avoided had been the best he could manage. He listened as Neebs spoke, only too glad to be able to end his restraint, Half-wit posted:
With a faint, slightly wistful smile, he replied, "If I had the authority to unilaterally decide the use of that ritual, we'd be in a significantly better position right now. Unless Noggins wishes to exercise her prerogative, that'd need a horde vote." The Lord of Hats posted:
He stepped up and was about to speak when... Scribbleykins posted:
There it was. Humbug would not lie to Grimper: He'd literally lost half his limbs and his sight rather than save himself by holding back on the truth. Still, Grimper hated him, and that hate might deafen him if not... Captainicus posted:
Magnificent. The finest squad the Unexpectables had to offer, and here at the ultimate crisis they were amazing. Humbug's truth-loving heart, Waesh's buccaneering soul, Hat impeccably positioning herself where she could do the most practical good, Gigs a stalwart, silent unflappable bulwark on whom they could all rely, Skett leading the way as best he could manage, a calm head under immense pressure. The Lord of Hats posted:
He met Noggins' gaze and offered an imperceptible nod: She had understood, and all the effort that had gone in to keeping her from getting killed or weakened had been worth it. Now it was his turn, and he respectfully addressed Grimper. "Here's how all this relates to you, Warlord: You did nothing wrong that night. The handmaidens intended to end Reina no matter what you did, you are not responsible in any way, shape or form for her 'death'. She knew that. She knew all along, the whole time, that you were innocent, but said or did nothing to prevent your shaming, to keep you from being sent with a hundred unarmed, unarmored, near-naked conscripts deep into enemy territory to die, which had you not had the foresight and fortune to rescue Magda, would have been the most likely outcome for all of us. We owe you for that. All that you have personally suffered because of that night was based on a barefaced lie, an act of treasonous deception. Now she's trying to appeal to you here and now, the expendable asset that was acceptable collateral damage to her in order to get her war, at the last becoming useful to her again because her own treacheries and betrayals, indiscriminate use of Madmist and manipulations that even I would baulk at have stripped her of friends and allies, even... even her most devoted. We've been played for fools, you and I, used as game pieces, our own loyalty twisted against us to further her ends despite the incalculable damage." Being bluff and forthright with Grimper to bring him onside: 3d100+127 342
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Dec 7, 2018 22:03
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 Grimper's Corona crackled with golden energy, but he looked uncertain as he surveyed the room. “My Queen - are you alrigh-” The Unexpectables stood between their Warlord and the Queen's prone form. He sneered at them, cracking his knuckles with one hand. “Stand down, you maggots. That's your Queen, there. I don't know what the Frömen did to you, but it's over now. I'm here to put an end to this farrrr- Noggins. I should have known. So that's it, then. A coup, in the memory of your Fröman tryst. You traitor. I should never have trusted you with my power. I'll just have to come take it BACK!” He rushed in. --- Gado was dimly aware of the confrontation between titans somewhere behind him, but the instant they'd all been distracted he'd booked it. He hoped they'd make it - not least because their failure would mean he'd be hunted down as a traitor - but he'd done his part getting the door open. Getting out of that trap had been a legendary feat and of itself, and he was satisfied doing one impossible thing today, thank you very much. He slipped out through the broken window, trudged through the packed snow left in the wake of dozens of terrified partygoers, and disappeared into the city. Gado had left the building! Whatever happens, he's free and clear now. Stock around for the epilogue, but you're otherwise free! You've won! --- Stårn and his chums were quite fine with the state of things. Almost certainly, the Unexpectables had this one in the bag. Alternatively the Queen would pull out some crazy power and annihilate them all. Either way, he'd done his part. Part of sieging was breaking the pinäta, but so too was gathering the delicious candy inside it. He stuffed golden candlesticks, gems and crystalline chunks of chandeliers into a sack made from a pillowcase worth more than his skin. If anyone objected they could speak up now. No? Not even you, Queen Dixi who was distracted and enraged by her predicament? How about you, exploded pieces of Handmaiden Foam? Oh, well then! More for us! --- Tö-Pain stumbled after Gado, but he wasn't running away - he was running to. Yacht-Sottoth was parked in the city, hidden from prying eyes, but the creature was needed now. Neötöpia was under attack, and nothing could get there faster. He went outside, beatboxing a battle rhythm to keep focused on the task at hand and squinting through the driving snow. He climbed onto the roof, Monsterized muscles hauling him to the peak, and fought to get his bearings. He was startled to see the burning wreckage of a Fröman lepidopter, the butterfly-like carrier torn and smashed nearly beyond recognition. Presumably Sikatris and her vicious cargo had been dropped off by one just like it. He could see flashes in the sky, behind the clouds, maybe another such machine doing battle with butterfly cavalry? Whatever it was, the sky was swarming with winter butterflies. Getting back here to evacuate Snödis would be a pain in the rear end. He ran to do just that. --- Noggins faced down Grimper’s rush with a new kind of clarity. She could see him plainly, like she understood the joins and warps in wood. She could see the Cores thrumming in his chest, a tight, circular arrangement bound in a Lattice. She could dimly detect the original Intentions for each of the Cores, but stamped over each was Breaking. He - and his fellow Breakers - had been forged into weapons, a last line of defense against those who would attempt to discover the Queen's Secret. How much had been lost to Tö by converting its best into war machines instead of cultural heroes like the Fröman Commanders? Had the Queen been unwilling to allow uncontrolled figures to shape the landscape of culture, or had she merely needed enforcers? She didn't know the history, didn't inherit the Queen's memories from her hacked connection to the gestalt, but that was a small price to pay to retain her ego. Grimper took another step and she watched his rage-contorted face. The Queen - the OTHER Queen, she supposed - had suggested earlier that Grimper had disapproved of the plan to provoke the war, had disapproved and been cowed. How much had the Breakers known? How much could they understand? Had Grimper been lying to them all along, or was he merely a confused man-child, stumbling his way through the dark like the rest of them? It didn't matter right now. He needed to be stopped. She reached out to her hammer, felt it awaken to her touch. Nailbreaker, whatever the other Artifacts had originally been, was a weapon. It was designed to crush and kill… but the leavings of the past could find new uses in a world that needed them for something new. She slammed out down and it erupted into a mass of vines and leaves, rising and carrying her upwards until she loomed over her former Warlord.
Noggins’ perceptions slowed enough to enjoy the chorus of gasps and cries of wonder and terror from her allies. And, gratifyingly, a shriek of “What!? Defend me, you overgrown brute!” from an outraged Dixi, who'd wrenched herself free in the chaos that Nailbreaker had wrought. Grimper stayed where he was, kneeling and shaking, repeating “I am sorry, my Queen, I am sorry.” It was unclear to whom he was referring. --- The beast that had been Trinh lay coiled in the forest of unnatural trees raised by Queen Noggins, wicked claws scoring the bark like a finger through icing. Gryph approached her slowly, hands spread wide, his gauntlets removed to appear non-threatening. He spoke in low hushed tones, but kept his words conversational and respectful. She wasn't a monster or an animal, this was Trinh. She appeared to be in control, and he meant to keep her that way. She watched him as he approached, and he could almost feel the pressure of her gaze peeling away his flesh and muscle to stare at the bones below, but she didn't, which was nice. He reached out a tentative hand and lay it on one heavily furred forearm. She bristled slightly, then smiled a needle sharp grin that turned his guts to water. It was alright. Things were going to be alright. --- Nana ran and slid on her knees to cradle the broken body of Humbug, fresh tears stinging her eyes. How much more of this could he take? The poor man had already been through so mu- he coughed and she laughed in anxious relief. She looked him over, stripping away fragments of metal and wood that had once been prosthetics, but they seem to have seen the worst of it. Still, he was so frail… Humbug, for his part, felt great. Sure, his body was trashed, but he'd been worse off back in the day. Well, maybe not, he thought ruefully, wiggling a stump. Still, he sighed and fell back with a little laugh. He'd solved it. He'd solved it, and now EVERYONE would know. No stopping this sort of press, even if the Queen still had her resources to draw upon. No, whatever happened here the world would have to change. The public would demand it. He winked at Nana, who sighed and flicked him in the shoulder. He mock whimpered and felt immediately bad as her eyes welled up again. Oops. Cause and Skett limped over, the latter looking the worse for the wear from their little scuffle earlier, but both seemed chipper enough. Cause felt a strange sort of peace, had been feeling it since Noggins gave the order to halt. Had she overrode Dixi's command with her own or merely broken the other Queen's hold over him? Did it really matter? The past weeks spent with the Unexpectables had given him a rather more nuanced look at the nature of free will, and he resigned himself to being glad he was no longer fighting his fellow Hordemates. Speaking of which… he had something to say to Dixi, something about how those who didn't study history were doomed to repeat it. She should have known better than to pick a fight with the Unexpectables with an supposedly overwhelming force in a supposedly unassailable location! --- Ruby shuffled her way towards the prone Sikatris, Shockgasp clenched between her teeth. Things were getting messy in here, and she sure as hell didn't want to be on the hook for cleanup. She wasn't paid nearly enough for that. Hell, she wasn't paid at all! She gave a weary chuckle as she reached the giant woman, placing a hand on her good arm. Immediately, the Thread's eyes snapped open and a line of wool wound around her neck. Ruby's eyes bulged, but she managed to croak out a 'help you’ and point at the vial. Sikatris slumped back, exhausted, closing her eyes in what might have been a nod. Good enough. She jammed it home. Sikatris sat bolt upright, clutching at the injection site as blue smoke billowed from her wounds and Corona. “Holy poo poo that hurt!” Her eyes were wide and wary, and the dead lines of thread around the room began to slither back towards her. She looked uncertain, taking in the defeated Grimper, the dead Handmaidens, and the enraged Queen. “I can't even begin to guess at what's happening here, but point me at whoever needs to go down. I'm not dying without a fight!” (Sikatris is pretty badly beaten up, but she's stubborn. She'll add 1d5000-2d1000 to whatever seems useful!) --- Dixi drew herself to her feet, body shifting and warping as she sought out a configuration that would get her out of this mess. The Unexpectables crowded around her, wolves emerging from a forest of ancient technology. Her champion cowed by an upstart, an enemy Commander set against her, her fine things stuffed into sacks by common thieves, a chorus of voices alternately trying to calm her, berate her, or force her surrender, she refused to back down. “You fools have ruined everything! There's no going back, now. I'd have to kill all of you AND a goodly chunk of the population, and you forced me to sacrifice Coinflipper with that asinine attempt to broadcast 'the truth' over the Thumbscrew. Once I've beaten you I'll just have to do it manually, kill EVERYONE and restart! I have time! I have all the time in the world! Next time I'll get it right! I'm so close!” Her body warped, features flickering through the thousands and thousands of faces she'd stolen, body bristling with adaptations from a hundred thousand Skillcores. Talking wasn't an option. --- Grimper kept his head down, defeated and miserable. He'd failed. No matter what he did, failure and shame crushed him down. His men - HIS men - had risen up against the Eternal Queen and ruined her plans. They'd rendered the war pointless and vain, and they'd destroyed him. And yet here some of them were, trying to get him on their side. Trying to get HIM to betray his Queen, in favor of this… upstart. Noggins. NOGGINS. She'd been a thorn in his side since the beginning. He'd given her the first sword, set her on this path by feeding her Glory. Now the Pawn had become a Knight had become a Queen. And him? He was nothing. Splut pushed past the others and Grimper sighed. loving Splut. He may as well just give up right now before the man talked him into killing himself. But instead he took a different tack. Splut pointed out that the Queen had used him, had brought shame on him purely for political reasons, purely out of expediency. Purely out of need to blame someone. Grimper knew that her word was law and that she'd doubtless had a reason… but it had bothered him. Still bothered him. Splut continued that unless Grimper had gotten lucky enough to find Magda, they probably would have all died out there, allowed to die to further push her agenda. Sure, they'd ended up saving the world, but that was never the plan. And Magda had gone down there to avenge the Queen, had DIED for NO REASON AT ALL! Grimper felt something at that. Shame, irritation… anger? Yes, anger at the Queen. Even his feud with Sikatris had, at its root, been a farce foisted on him by the Queen. This whole drat THING had been a drat cock-up perpetrated by the Eternal Queen's errors. She'd made some mistakes, minor to her, that had cost people their lives. Some good people. Magda. He wasn't… sure how to deal with that. The Queen was the highest authority, drilled into them during their Breaking. But there were two Queens now. Maybe… he himself could do something Unexpectable, and do something right for once. (Grimper is also beaten up, but he's been filled with Handmaiden juice. He'll add 1d5000-1d1000+Horde Glory+16d100 to wherever seems useful!) --- Dixi fought like a demon, lashing her way through the ranks at alarming speed. But the Horde had found their footing now, and they had another Queen on their side. She kept shrieking about destiny and breaking the chains of the past, but the present wasn't on her side. With Grimper and Sikatris fighting by their side, the Unexpectables descended upon the cornered Queen. For the Golden Slinker, for Tö, and for the whole line of Ö! godDAMMIT grimper In the End, Queen Dixi died like any other Töan. Ringo stove in her head with a backhand slam of his Wendigodendag and she dropped, twitching. Her body convulsed, then went still. In the end, even the powerful succumbed to stillness. They watched her there, bleeding out, carrying with her the thousands of lives she herself had ruined and the uncounted billions she'd destroyed over the course of her long, long years. That was that. Now what? A question answered almost immediately by the sound of already broken glass further shattered by the passage of an enormous beast. Yacht-Sottoth dragged itself across the shattered, bloody, snow-heaped tiles of the ballroom, calling for its mother. Snödis made to leave, but Noggins bade her to stay and talk. A confrontation began, prelude to yet more internecine conflict. Snödis asked for - demanded - fair treatment and equality for Neötöpia… demands which required the immediate cessation of production of the Monsterism Cure, provoking a chorus of disbelieving shouts and even baring of weapons. Grimper moved to step forward and speak, but a weary Sikatris gripped him by the arm and shook her head. He ripped his way free, Corona flaring, but said nothing. This was beyond him, now. They'd grown past his guidance. The two camps solidified their positions. Neötöpia under Snödis couldn't be trusted not to aggressively expand, and Snödis couldn't trust that a state bearing the Cure wouldn't use it to exterminate her people. Matters got worse when Verika demanded the surrender of the bonded chrysalis bearing the corpse of a Handmaiden and Snödis refused, leading Dack to interpose himself between them. Quietly, in the chaos, Sucy sank into the dark world. The silence and darkness was a pleasant respite from the vicious infighting out there. Not for the first time she debated just… staying here. She surveyed the wreckage of the battle, such as it was. The Crown had been mostly reintegrated, thought it was a hell of a hack job. Maybe she and Hat could polish it up later. She found 'corpses’ the Handmaidens had left behind, like shards of glass vaguely in the shape of a person. Examining them closely, she felt she could discern discrete 'layers’, like rings in a tree. Strata of condensed ego, pressed together into a desired shape. If Noggins had gone through with it, if things had gone differently… she'd be gone. She'd remain, in the way that bodies remained when death came, but everything that had been 'her’ would have become… this. She found the Queen's shadow. Much of her remained here, a goodly portion of the bulk of her knowledge and memories oozing into the surrounding Script and being lost. She dared not touch it unless it tried to use her as a vessel, but instead watched it flow away. Such a relief. Such a waste. She found Snödis, familiar by now, her shape twisted and 'wrong’ with Monsterism. She followed a line of Somawire to its core, the spool she'd found that had pushed her this far. It, too, looked 'wrong’, pushed further than it had ever been meant to go. Its function was emergency, temporary repairs of high importance assets, probably deployed by the [players of games] to keep a valuable [unit] in [the game] long enough to… well, that way lay madness. No sense trying to understand the whims of cruel gods. With a brush of Script, she disabled it. The Wire retracted, sending a shiver of alarm through Snödis’ shape. She'd live - but now she wouldn't live forever. And maybe, just maybe, she'd heal. --- When it was all said and done, no one was satisfied. They were at an impasse, one that could not be resolved in a matter of rushed moments. The Queen lived on in Carlena, deployed to Neötöpia before this whole mess. She needed to be destroyed, and Yacht-Sottoth alone could get there before she could lose herself in the wild. Snödis and her crew went, leaving behind an uncertain, fractured nation. The Unexpectables had won. Once again… now what? (You have officially won, but there's always a tomorrow! Tö is going to reel under the weight of these revelations, under the betrayals and upheavals that have been wrought this night. What do you do? Where do you go? Who do you help? Assume for the most part that people you talked with during the ball survived and that most of your contracts and contacts remain. What do you do with them? This is how we'll do the epilogue: approximately a month passes after these events. I want you to give me two things each: tell me what you do, and tell me one thing that changes in the city (or something that stays the same). I'll respond with a post collecting these things and give you a final few questions for your character. You answer them, and you get the last word on how things turn out. No rolling, now, I'm turning the narrative over to you. Try to play nice and not step on anyone's toes, but at this point I trust you all to bring this to an acceptable resolution.) --- Handmaiden Carlena, the Remnants of the Eternal Queen, cursed bitterly. She was cold and tired. Cold! And Tired! Her disconnection from the Crown Server that had been Dixi had weakened her severely, and she could feel memories and skills slipping away. gently caress! She would still be more than a match for a small army, but her resources were heavily taxed as they were. She made a few mental notes of things she could use to claw back her power. She'd need to steal or make another crown - SOMEHOW - and find herself a spare body as soon as possible. It would be tough to find someone of her lineage out in the middle of loving NOWHERE but she hadn't got to be who she was without a little patience. This body was young, yet - she still had the better part of a century to sort this out. And then she'd just… start again. Neötöpia had proven to be rather more of a hassle than expected. The crazy bitch had Branded all of them (dammit, Grimper!), reducing the effectiveness of her Most, and worse many had gasmasks, had been drilled against this eventuality. drat the paranoia of poets! She'd seen a few dozen go mad, confirmed perhaps twice as many succumb, but it was far from the utter decapitation strike she'd been hoping for. Another drat thing to worry about, another loving splinter of the bloodline. And now she wasn't in position to handle it. How she wished she'd gotten her hands on that Carpenter Knight. It was close, too. If only she'd taken her, the rest of them would have followed her without question. And now it was all upside down. Just gre- Wait. She felt something. One of her bodies, growing closer. Had she lost track of one of her in the melee? Two of them, even disconnected, would make this so much easier. She chanced a glance out into the snow. The sun was rising, and it was hard to see her silhouette against the glare. Yino? Impossible. But it felt like her. Carlena took a cautious step forward. “Yino? My Handmaiden, attend me!” Yino turned to look at her, a too-wide smile on her face. “Oh, oh̢ ͞d͡e̡̕ar̢ ̸́si̡͏͜s̵t͠e͟r̸, I have f̢͠Ǫ͜͞͡ú̴̸̢n̶̕d̕͜͡ ̷̸͡͏͜ý̴ó̧̕̕u͡͝!” The smile widened further, spreading cracks along her face that slit all the way up to her brow as a bone white mask pushed its way through. Carlena turned to flee - then felt herself rise into the air, impaled by the prow of a monstrous warbeast. Yacht-Sottoth flapped its wings, and Snödis laughed and laughed as the very last bit of the Queen was torn to howling shreds. (Neötöpia is very badly damaged, the population decimated and afraid, but they carry on! It is up to Snödis (and whoever decided to go with her on Yacht-Sottoth) to decide how it goes from there! It'll be an uphill fight to recognition and security, but that hasn't stopped them yet!)
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Dec 12, 2018 23:26
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      Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+75), Tunneling (+10) HP: 2/2 Glory: 44->I quit!!! Breaker's Hand Bonus: Double the bonus on consumables used for violent combat. For the most part Gado remained ignorant of what was happening back in Tömate. He had some monumental tasks ahead of him if he was to successfully make a clean break. The first task had been to rip out the ritual nails piercing his body, a task that had been more than a little painful. After tending to his reopened wounds it was time to get down to business. The Töan supply market for building materials was a surprisingly cutt-throat market. Sure you could eke out a living supplying civilian contractors, but if you really wanted to make a proper living then you needed government contracts, much like the one Gado had recieved from Töller Brown. He'd miss his chance at attending a fancy BBQ to be sure, but the small fortune he'd received in exchange for sub-contracting out Mr. Brown's work out to some shady ask no questions types had been more than worth it. Bags of cash in hand, Gado finally made his way home. It wasn't an easy thing to convince his mother to abandon their family business, but given the transformations the horrors of war had applied to Gado, the plots Royal and otherwise and the stories of the psychopathic monsters he'd been travelling with for an indeterminate amount of time, she eventually came around. A liberal application of boomsticks saw the family home and quarry wiped from the face of the map, any trace of their presence, and more importantly clues to where they might be headed, were wiped from the face of Tö. Gado and his immediate family went to ground the best way they knew how, literally. They'd only begun the process, but in the coming months and years they'd have built up a bunker to rival any vault, without the foibles of universal skeleton keys and nationwide corona based signals firing off and alerting everyone to your presence. They'd have a rough life ahead of them, but they'd be safe. quote:What do: Gado takes his family and nopes the gently caress out of öan society as hard as he can to build a prepper bunker. Any attempt to track him down would make it clear he doesn't want to be found and would devolve into violence if pressed. Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 10:56 on Dec 13, 2018 |
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Dec 13, 2018 00:48
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 Name: Neebs Skill(s): Bartending (+45) Surgery (+15) Mentalism (+10) HP: 3/3 Medics: Breaker’s Eye - Upon a failed healing attempt, heal 1 HP for every 100 in the failed roll, rounding up. Additionally, once per combat a Medic may heal an ally that has rolled lower than them 1 HP. Drunk Oracle - During Downtime, Neebs may make a Humbug: Blackened Eye Savant - Humbug may question Neebs as a separate action during downtime with another roll from her (doesn't need to be Drinking) about the Blackened Eyes. Glory: 14 + 1 posting glory -> 15 Torchlighter posted:
Neebs heard Gryph's command...and ignored it. Did he not realize that his authority as a Captain derived from Grimper's authority, and that Grimper's authority derived from the Queen's authority? Gryph's authority over Neebs had disappeared the moment he had become traitor to the Queen. Same went for the rest of the Unexpectables. Deal with her later? There was nothing he could do, besides kill her, at this point. He was the traitor, not Neebs. Neebs was one of 20 some Unexpectables who had chosen the 'right' side. Did the stupid idiot not get that everything was changed now that the Unexpectables had rejected the proper authority? Neebs had taken the vow of silence. She felt something internally that just wouldn't let that vow disappear. A geas. A summons. She didn't know how to describe it. She...was unable...to contradict it. That wasn't to say the Unexpectables couldn't hurt Neebs...they were vastly more powerful than she could ever be. But it was exactly that they were powerful that had been a reason Neebs had tried to make a stand. The Unexpectables kept reaching for power, when they should have stopped. You had to be some kind of psychopath to keep reaching for power. Neebs looked over at Portha. Some kind of psychopath, indeed. There was no way Neebs would ever beat The Unexpectables in a straight fight...and, Neebs wasn't a fighter in the first place; so she wouldn't try. What did the Unexpectables think would happen when they left this vault? That the nöbility would just up and immediately recognize the Unexpectables as the new rulers? That there wouldn't be infighting and civil war within the kingdom? No...the Unexpectables just kept leading people towards more war, more conflict. They'd even let the monsters go back to Neötopia...which would lead to an inevitable conflict with Tö. Maybe not all that suddenly, Neebs realized she was tired. Tired of monsters. Tired of power-hungry narcissists. Yino was dead, and all of the prospects that Yino might have helped Neebs build in the ballroom not half a night ago were now ruined with the new narrative that the Queen was a monster. The true Queen had been de-throned. There wasn't anything left for Neebs in Tö. She couldn't go back to just serving Töans food and drink. Not if such power-hungry monsters as the Unexpectables were in charge of this kingdöm. Neebs took a wary look at Noggins. The carpenter had always meant well, but...it didn't sit right with Neebs. There was so much wrong that kept occurring. She walked over to Noggins. "Looks like you're going to be the next Queen of Tö. A piece of advice, before I leave your kingdom. Keeping in mind, if you don't let me voluntarily leave your kingdom, you'll have proven that you're just as much a tyrant as the last monarch. Beware that the power-hungry beneath you don't unseat you, as you and the power-hungry that support you have unseated the last Queen." Neebs left the ballroom and went back to The Lampshade. She closed up The Lampshade without talking to any of the employees. She locked the doors, and flipped the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. Sure, Hat would surely unlock the place when she got home; but it was Hat's place now. Neebs grabbed her traveling belongings; and set out to travel the world. Looking for other kingdöms. Searching for a place that was ruled more justly than this mess of a kingdöm. quote:What do: Leave Tö to travel the world, searching for other kingdöms. Half-wit fucked around with this message at 03:52 on Dec 13, 2018 |
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Dec 13, 2018 03:24
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 Portha had an agreeable evening, all things considered. Many of the softer snacks she'd smuggled out of the party had turned to a pasty combination of clashing flavors but they lasted her a month, allowing her to save up for the trip she'd planned. Portha demanded her research job back, showing off the power of the ritual and declaring it would make training the next generation of Warlords far easier. She signed back on and got to work on a new project. Bound to Us had already been given extensive research over the month leading up to the party by Töan scientists interested in winning the war through conversion, so most of the groundwork for the Öan Initiative had been done already and all that was left was a simple matter of changing the allegiance from Töan to Nöne. The new and improved Unbound from Us, None of Us ready to go, it was time to test it out. The converted Öans felt empty compared to before but at the same time they felt unburdened. The blank spot in their script made it harder for them to function and their abilities suffered for it, but all agreed it was better than being pawns in the OGs' games. As for Portha herself, she refused to undertake the ritual, saying she needed to be at full strength and aligned a bit longer for her final project. She'd smuggled a couple Handmaiden tiaras out of the party and requested a new batch of the things be crafted. A month after the party she and a group of junior scientists left the kingdom for Noostra and then the wilderness, carrying a bag of cores and tiaras with them. quote:What do: Portha left for the Administrator to create new bodies to use the way the old queen had used the Handmaidens. With them in tow she returned to Fostis, intent on defragmenting her original body with the new ones.
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Dec 13, 2018 11:10
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Name: Stårn Ah so it was over? Well in a manner of speaking it was! But in another manner of speaking, many things had just gotten massively more complicated than they had previously been. And complications meant tensions, and tensions meant conflict. And conflict? Well, conflict meant Sieging. So did many, indeed most other things too, of course, but conflict especially. Stårn grinned his Sieging grin. Oh yes, he wasn't going out of work just yet. After the ball, Stårn worked tirelessly on his project, fueled both by the resplendent vistas of his imaginations and passions for Sieging, as well as by the significant donations he'd gotten from his patrons (as it turns out, nobles are not hard to wring money out of when national instability threatens their posh ways of life. Perhaps there was material for a class here even..?) and collectors seeking the choice bits of loot he'd gained from the palace. Yes, SASGY was shaping up nicely! It was not yet ready, of course, the betterment of Siege could never be truly ready. But still, something beautiful was taking shape here, and Stårn was certain he could yet make many a breakthrough on the field of Siegecraft whilst performing as faculty here. And even more importantly, it was a place that could impart the transcendental beauty of Sieging to a new generation, and a new generation to the one after that. A place that would keep alive his passions, ideals and legacy well after he was gone, and further the outer limits of Siege to places even he couldn't fathom as they built on the knowledge of past generations. All that was still in the future though. Not that Stårn minded, of course. Sieging was a long term enterprise, after all. quote:What do: Patience is the Heart of Sieging, and Stårn is not a forgetful sort when it comes to the tenets of his chosen craft. Work on the Stårn Academy for Siege-Gifted Youth continues apace.
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Dec 13, 2018 15:51
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Nana the Elder and Bäbi One Week Later Splut had been very patient with her, and Nana was thankful for that, but try as she might she couldn't seem to understand the finer points of this whole "Investment Trust" business. She dimly grasped the concepts when he talked about 'capital gains' and 'dividends', but then he went off about 'derivative hedging' and 'yield curves' and everything seemed to go out the window. In the end, she left it in his hands. His face was as impassive as ever, but she thought she heard the tiniest hint of relief in his voice when he said "Leave it to me, I'll see that it all gets taken care of." A few signatures later and It was official. Nana was, as of now, the owner of Wearing the Lampshade. Splut had assured her that, should Neebs return, changing the deed back to her would be simple. Nana sighed to herself... Neebs... It wasn't until the second day with no sign of her that Nana truly began to worry. Neebs was a strong young woman, fully capable of taking care of herself, but her connection to the administrator would always leave her in danger. Nana sought help locating her from the horde, eventually hearing from Humbug (through his contacts with the guardsmen) that she had been seen leaving the city, alone and not under any apparent duress. Her worry began to dissipate, only to be replaced by confusion, sadness, and a small but growing apprehension. Why had she left? Nana could only come up with guesses, Neebs hadn't said a word to anyone, hadn't left any sort of sign or explanation. Nana wasn't sure if she'd ever get the chance to ask, which lead to the question that kept her up at night. Would she ever return? In the end, despite what she might feel, there wasn't all that much Nana could do. If Neebs didn't want to be found, it wasn't likely that she would be. Still... Nana grabbed a pen, neatly printing out a couple lines on a piece of paper before sealing it within an envelope. Any time a group of Unexpectables would leave the city on one of their far-flung adventures, Nana would send a letter with them, to be given to Neebs if they should ever come across her. The message was short, the same two simple lines every time. quote:There will always be a place for you here, sweetie. (I'll do another post and a what do/what change summary in a few days) BHB fucked around with this message at 21:18 on Dec 14, 2018 |
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Dec 14, 2018 19:35
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Name: Hob The aftermath was kinda messy. Lots to resolve, lots to do. Hob mainly worked to coordinate people over the net, helping where he could. The big picture stuff was rolling on, unstoppable. The future would be good without the old queen. But it was uncertain. Too many people didn't understand. ---A short while later, in a bar on the Töan/Fröan border--- A figure stood on a slightly raised performers area in the corner, and cleared his throat. The noise in the bar dipped slightly as some craned their neck to see. "Hi there, I'm Hob of the Unexpectables." *Muttering* "I know a lot of people have a lot of questions, what went down with the queen, what's the deal with the Fröans, and how exactly did Wendigoes found a nation state? Well, there's no easy answer to any of that, but I've got a song for you that lays it bare. An Epic Poem, if you will, telling their tale. I was there first hand, seen it with my own two eyes, haha. You'll get why that's funny later. So sit back, listen up and hear how we Broke Down That Gate! ---some time later. Use of the mindbender net spreads further, and when Hob isn't travelling, or spending time with the horde people back in Tömate, he's tinkering--- A knock on the door. Dack's house. As the Wendigo cracked open the door, Hob was waiting outside holding a covered basket. "Hey Dack. How's things? Umm, not a social visit this time... The Friendigo moved inside to a chair and Hob followed, grabbing the usual glasses from the cupboard as he passed, and opening the basket to reveal a bottle of something Dack liked, two meat pies from the good vendor a few blocks over, and a weird looking helm. Adjustable plates to fit a variety of Wendigo head sizes. A padded lining with a slick material to prevent wendigo-body adhesion, based off of some of the old anti-Wendigo armour from Noostra. And a mechanism on the outside that looked like a vial of liquid. Hob tapped the vial. "The transmission goes through this OG Coolant, a conductor, it's going in the newest versions. And right now on the test helm, I can send a signal to activate this" *points* "to break the pod, spill the liquid and sever the connection. It's being built into all the models, in case anyone tries to like hack a brain or something. Given that the old ones could explode faces, it's a valid concern, I understand why Splut suggested it. Especially with the Fröan uptake." Hob sits down. "The conductor is laced with some cure, in case thought monsterism is a thing. You know Snödis would try and spread through the net, if she could. But maybe, with monsterists on the net, people will stop being..." Hob looked away, searching for a word. "...Bad? Towards you. And Qwåg. And Trinh. And Snödis. And everyone else." Hob patted the helm. "I'm not forcing you to use it, it's not everyone's cup of mushbrewm. But it's here if you want it. I'm heading out to Frömage soon to drop off a bunch, and on the return journey I'll be dropping by Neötopia with some of these models. Could maybe even ping Trinh a hello over it every now and then. If Snödis let's anyone access them, I mean. She'll be paranoid about it, I think. Rightly so. But who knows? Maybe people will see her for who she is underneath the crown? What to do: Hob and Gawp tour the kingdom of Tö, Frö, and Neötopia, giving a complete, unabridged story of the unexpectables journey to help people understand everything that happened. During the tours, he spreads the helms further, and introducing Wendigoes to the net. Once uptake is great enough, and the story is known enough, he stops, and tries to take up beekeeping again. He keeps in contact with any of the others with net access, and visits the cities semi regularly to sell honey and catch up with friends at the Lampshade. Maybe he even bumps into a certain someone ut in teb sticks and hands over a certain letter after getting a tip off from Splut? (Not that he realised it was a tip off). Over time, he gets sicker more often, breaks more bones in accidents that shouldn't have been that serious. The OG machine took segments from inside as well as out, something all the mechanism survivors had to contend with. What changes: People become more accepting of the Wendigoes in their midst. Bonds are formed across borders of Tö and Frö. The Öans gain a powerful recruitment tool, and use the net to target those susceptible to their doctrine (until Splut uses his SuperUser Hat access to cut them off). Splut (via his Hat) and Noggis (while Noggins has the crown) gain access and control over a vast intelligence network. One of the admin vaults has a not insignificant amount of coolant nicked from it for use as a superconductor in improved mindbender helms.
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Dec 15, 2018 02:29
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 Brimming with power and energy gained from the Snackture of handmaiden Carlena, the Snödisfly wanted nothing more than to take to the skies. Indeed, still suffering from the Unexpectables betrayal, the War and the vagaries of her own Murderfashion, the ex-captain could do with a few days off and some alone time. Alas, it was not to be. For though she had always considered herself to be nothing more than a comrade amongst comrades, her People, once whole, had almost shattered, and looked to her for guidance. Wether it was the comfort of having someone dependable in charge, or perhaps some innate ö-sense of proper rulership protocols she could not say, but the effect was the same. The People demanded she take on an even more pro-active and Official role in the guidance of Neötöpia, and thought it pained her sense of Freedom, she had no choice but to relent. Her first act as Tyrant was to order immediate restorative efforts of the ravaged, ramshackle war-camp that stood in place of the Grand Capitol that she had imagined for them in her Propaganda. It was an easy sell, as most present longed for normalcy after the devastation of War, but the effort required to accomplish the task was altogether a different story. The ruins were alive. Oh, certainly, it gladdened her in some way, that a silver lining could be found at the cloud of all their recent troubles. That not all around her was Death and Decay. But her mood soured when the realization dawned on her; as the leader of Neötöpia it was up to her and no one else, to Arbitrate matters of both Law and Morality that, up until this point in Öan history, had been the stuff of only the most esoteric of nightmares. Whats the proper course of conduct when a House demands its owners pay It rent? How do you decide wether a tree should count as a Citizen when it comes to the intricacies of the rights of inheritance? Should this man, his mind beyond saving, his body broken beyond repair, be euthanized, his biomass returned to the fold, or be left in his place as some sort of giant, spooky but technically alive statue? When the most immediate concerns relented in intensity, Snödis took on another role far more suited to her capabilities: Search and rescue. Not all of her People had remained in the city, in truth, most had fled into the surrounding countryside. With wings both great and Regal, Snödis could search the Frö hinterlands far swifter than any of her Comrädes, and safer besides, for those same hinterlands had grown hostile since the Dawn of Mist.. The Wildlands, she took to calling them, and her People followed suit. The outskirts of Neötöpia, previously the forlon and ashen ruins of old Frö, were now not so much abandoned, rather to be avoided at all costs. Concentrated, weapons-grade madmist had saturated the area, infecting the very ground such that what one might mistake for grass might with a mis-placed foot mistake you for food. Rocks twitched with half-formed organs, eyestalks observed your movement from the 'trees' and some areas were eerily quiet or gruesomly noisy. Snödis was not sure which was The most significant find of her expedition however, was Jö. The old Wendingo Prototype, her first Off-brand, had apparently been following her scent all along, and had somehow survived the war and the mist, only to grow stronger and stronger in the intervening time. Though some parts of his mind remained intact (enough that a conversation, of sorts, could be held at a very very safe distance), most other parts of his body had different ideas of what constituted civility and a much clearer sense of what counted as Food; namely everything. Though it would take additional sacrifice on her and her peoples resources to keep his madness and that of those less fortunate sated, their passive protection would prove vital to the defense of the Neötöpian Nation in its early days. --- What Did You Do/What Changed? Snödis is spending the month accidentally being installed as Tyrant of Neötöpia, leading the search and rescue efforts for the casualties of the previous (very brief) Tö-Neötöpia War and in general leading her people. Additionally, the mad-mist attack has wrecked the environment to the point of that a sizeable portion of it is now uninhabitable for non-Wendingoes; a zone of living terrain that seperates Neötöpia from the rest of the world by eating or otherwise rending those who attempt to pass on foot. Snödis is helping this process along where she can, becoming Neötöpias first official Terrorformer, though the position is one more akin to that of a combined Forest- and Zookeeper rather than the pure artistry of a fleshsculpter such as Trinh. --- On Diplopmacy: Neötöpia will remain insular and xenophobic for now, though they would rather avoid the seemingly inevitable war. If envoys are sent from Tö or Frö, they will be escorted to some make-shift embassy on the back of Yacht-Sottoth and under constant guard, only to see Tyrant Snödis after their personal effects have been temporarily confiscated, such as one might expect from a (justifiably) paranoid warlord, but sincere attempts at Diplomacy will still be taken seriously, if with great suspicion. Monsterist-Refugees will be accepted regardless of circumstance, whereas non-monsterists will most likely be denied entry, unless they show serious commitment to Monsterist Ways or resolve to undergo Monsterist Infection themselves. On the Cure: Missionary Curists will be given a firm but polite notice that their days are numbered in seconds on Neötöpian lands, and non-sanctioned use of The Cure within Neötöpian bounds is to be considered an offense of the highest order. Sanctioned usages include life saving surgery, quarantine and envoy of foreign nationals and little else. A Citizen that opts to undergo the treatment for any other reason is exiled to either Tö or Frö. Madmist, when it is found, is to be reported to the authorities (Snödis) and dumped in the Wildlands or eradicated where possible by trained professionals. Possession of madmist for any other purpose than emergency transport or immediate eradication is prohibited.
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Dec 16, 2018 18:19
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Part 1: Freedom Gourde's violin Sonata No. 2 in B minor. A true classic. By all accounts, it was fiendishly difficult to play, but Nank the Violinist had performed for royalty. He had no trouble keeping up the piece's hectic tempo even as the winter's chill bit into his fingers. A Frö, playing in the light of a campfire. He was so young, yet pained. The war had shaken him. And afterwards he had taken to wandering the countryside on foot to refind himself. He was a strange man. So much so that upon meeting a wendigo on the road he had agreed to a performance. Every motion of his muscles was calculated. His fingers moved with the speed and precision of a machine. To do something like this required incredible coordination and sense of timing. But what was the point of it? Trinh sent him away before the halfway point of the performance. - It had taken time but they were finally here. The jars. Trinh coiled up in the middle of the shattered Neötype settlement. The wounds of the attack were still open, the buildings damaged from comrades who had lost themselves that night. But right now nothing could bring down her spirits. She took apart the first package, revealing three glass tubs smelling faintly of chemicals, and in each one floated something exquisite. A heart that never stopped beating, the trifold eye, a limb for opening knots. She grinned to herself as she opened package after package. The hölidays had come after all. And what gifts these were! Each piece revealed new possibilities, new paths! Balast the Fleshmonger must have had taken a personal risk in preserving rather than destroying these treasures. What with how close minded the queen had turned out to be. The unwrapping culminated in a heavily padded metal crate. Trinh greedily tore it apart, revealing the last present. This jar was wrapped in excessive amounts of yellow warning tape and plastered with several strongly worded notices warning one to not make any loud noises near it. Trinh could barely contain her glee. Inside twisted something akin to a scythe. - One morning a scout returned with a report of a wagon filled with valuables. Most likely the possessions of some wealthy Frö who had tried to escape the approaching Tö front, but for whatever reason had been forced to abandon their wagon on this quiet forest trail. Old Bön couldn't speak, not since the night of the mist, but he could drag a wagon better than any horse. Soon enough the loot was in Neötypia. There was a modest amount of gold and a few bottles of expensive liquor, but most of the wagon was taken up by dozens of metal cylinders. Trinh loomed over the proceedings as they were investigated. The first cork came off and inside was, a roll of cloth? Unrolling it revealed a portrait of a regal looking Frö woman. An oil painting. The wagon's owner must have been an art collector. More paintings emerged. Picture of chickens on a farm, a cubistic fruit bowl, another portrait of the same woman, and then, a landscape of a spring meadow. Trinh carefully picked up that one. She recognized the signature. An old customer of hers used to have a similar painting on her wall. A haunting picture of a forest in autumn glow. She had used to visit the old coot just to take in that view. No, it had to have been a different artist. For these pictures made her feel nothing. - Poor Slim the Tailor. Trinh reached for the wall and tore out a wriggling piece. The old communal hall of Neötypia had been packed tight when Coinflipper's madmist attack hit. With prolonged exposure Slim's brand had failed and he had engulfed many unfortunate souls and a whole lot of architecture. After the smoke had settled from the attack, the survivors had laborously tried to separate Slim from the building. What remained was a loose pile of flesh. A mound from which limbs and eyes poked out with no rhyme or reason. Useless and immobile. His friends and Snödis had endlessly tried to reach out to him, but it was no use. Slim simply kept doing his thing. One mouth moaned incoherently, the next rambled about tailoring patterns. Trinh struck her claws into the Slim wendigo, burying her arm deep into it's urchin-like form. A torrent of blue blood hit the snow, turning it into steaming slush. Deep within, she twisted the largest artery to block off blood coming in from the body's other half, and with her other hand began sawing off a slice of the creature. If the Slims couldn't agree on anything they would be better off separate. She carved and parted the flesh along it's seams, making sure not to break apart any interesting organs, stopping every now and then to clip off arms that were trying to stop her. They would thank her. Now there was one that was incapable. Soon there would instead be many that could work. The amount of happiness in the world was increasing. Yes, indeed it was! Each new cut was better than the last. Each new fragment more beautiful. Yes! This piece would be completed by the legs Balast had sent her. This one simply needed fingers. This one was so awe inspiring that Trinh had to eat it. In here, in the gaping hole torn into Slim's side Trinh could see the truth. It still eluded her grasp, slipped from her fingers like water blood. But compared to before! She used to stumble in darkness, now she swam in light! She would need to kill more to reach it. There was always a price to be paid. But with each new piece of art, with each new bit of beauty brought into the world, she reached deeper. Deeper towards what the Players of Games were trying to hide from her. Then why did she feel so horrible. She wondered. If she found that violinist again, and cut him apart. Would she find the music inside? I'd say this takes place very soon after Snödis and Trinh returned from Tömate. Final post with the epilogue questions coming later. Jvie fucked around with this message at 06:44 on Dec 21, 2018 |
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Dec 16, 2018 18:24
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Nana the Elder and Bäbi One Month Later Nana set down her pen and lightly rested her hand on the page in front of her. News from around town, updates on a few members of the Horde, some minor anecdotes from her own life, and several paragraphs about Bäbi. Her letter to Snödis was finished, her second that week. Travel between the nations was still highly limited, so sometimes the letters stacked up before she could send them, but Nana found it very calming to put down her feelings and thoughts to be read by another. She hoped her letters provided Snödis a little bit of grounding and stability in what was no doubt a difficult and complicated time. --- Nana looked out the window at the lights of the city twinkling around her, the moon hanging high overhead. Things were changing at The Lampshade, slowly but surely. All it had taken was one of the servers making a comment about coming in to try Nana's cooking as a customer and Nana found herself cooking breakfast for the staff every day before the restaurant opened for brunch. They were getting busier, so she had to interview and hire quite a few more people. It wasn't until the nursery was halfway built (It's only natural to provide childcare for your staff, right?) that someone pointed out that most of the new hires were also new parents. Aside from this, complaints had been limited and significant raises across the board (employees should be able to take care of their families, right?) had contributed to a general positive atmosphere. Nana was diligent in her bookkeeping, and it seemed that whatever Splut had done was proving quite effective, as her balance sheet stayed firmly in the black. Dinner service at The Lampshade became the talk of the town. The cheerily lit common room would be packed with customers, extra tables spilling out into the hallways and filling up half-empty storage rooms. Peter Porker summarized it in his Tölling Bell review as: "A uniquely welcoming experience, walking through the front door feels like walking into a reunion, and with the part of the family you actually like!" Nana would manage the chaos with a happy smile, everything that came out of the kitchen was given a personal touch, every patron given a personal greeting. It became a policy not to turn away a customer if they were unable to pay, and if they did turn away patrons due to being full Nana would often send them off with a small parcel of something fresh and warm from the oven. --- Nana supposed she didn't have anyone but herself to blame, and she didn't have the heart to tell them to stop. One of them must have found one of her letters to Neebs and they must have come up with it among themselves. It seemed no matter how busy they were, a single seat was always left vacant, just at the end of the bar. If a patron accidentally seated themselves in it, they would kindly be informed by a staff member (some of the regulars even got in on it) that, unfortunately, this seat was reserved. If asked for whom, the reply would be simply: "The Proprietor." --- Nana will be available and eager to help in any other Unexpectable activities, enlisting the help of that darling young man Snorkus to babysit Bäbi if she takes any extended trips. quote:What Do: Nana will spend the month staying in contact with Snödis and as many other Unexpectables as possible. She will try to make contact with Neebs if possible. She will take over and slowly begin remaking The Lampshade to reflect its new owner. BHB fucked around with this message at 15:14 on Dec 17, 2018 |
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Dec 17, 2018 13:49
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