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Scurrilous Scruntson "Mule" Class Cargo Hauler Before the announcement Scurrilous was feeling rather down. Sure, this ship had been a technological wonderland at first and he had borrowed enough parts not only to make the scruntdroid that was trundling along noisily next to him but also his new third robo-arm sprouting out of his right shoulder. It had hurt like a bitch stabbing those copper wires directly into his own spine and his back was oozing a little more than normal, but it had all sorts of gadgets and pokey and proddy poo poo all over it and was thus incredibly techy. But after that the ship was mostly just boring. Every time he tried to leave the cargo bay he got threatened with being shot, and after the first forty-seven scrunts were summarily executed for trying to leave Scurrilous was reasonably sure that they might actually maybe do it. But then, the vid screens had flickered to life. And the man with the giant face had spoken to them, Scur couldn't quite remember most of it because it sounded boring, but then he said the magic words. Slam Sector. Thats all he needed to hear! While celebrating with the time-honored Scrunt tradtion of punching, kicking, and headbutting everyone/thing within reach Scur felt a tug at his side. Some little scrunty poo poo was trying to pilfer his custom gun! The technoscrunt wheels around to punch the upstart little thief square in the jaw. Dutifully SCR-417 rolls up and begins to assist it's master. Imagine a clamp-hand stamping on a scrunty face. Forever. Suddenly, though, Scurrilous was struck with an idea. He simply couldn't wait to get to the planet, so why should he have to. Flexing his mechandrite, he sprints off to the dropships. Surely there would be a way to launch them now and get to the Slam Sector immediately, right? Right?! _____ gently caress that kid. Scurrilous makes a beeline for the nearest droppod or dropship. Tech-Use +10 vs Intelligence 50 to see if he can hotwire one of them.
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# ¿ Nov 7, 2014 22:32 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 12:20 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson "Mule" Class Cargo Hauler Scurrilous waited with bated breath for the powerful mag-catapult to launch the dropship filled to the brim with his brethren into the void and into the surface. When it didn't happen he took stock of the situation to see what could have went wrong. He had ripped off the protective panel off the control terminal (that was good), he had jammed his mechandrite into it as hard as he could (as was standard procedure), it had started spewing a lot of sparks (always a good sign), and now his stolen Techpriest robes were on fire (wait what-) "FECKIN' TIT-SLAPPIN' WHORE-FARTIN RAT-SUCKIN' ANUS-JUMPIN' oval office-DIDDLERS!" He screams as he flails around like a daemon out of the warp, which only serves to fan the flames. But while that may have seemed like a random string of expletives to the uninitiated or the sane, it was actually a complex command phrase for SCR-417. The 'bot lurches past the control terminal towards the dropship and clutches a very large hose and yanks with all it's might. The hose burst free, spraying the burning scrunt with hydraulic fluid. Dripping with disgusting fluid Scur blinks a few times and takes stock of the situation again. Obviously something had gone wrong and obviously it was the terminals fault. And so his mind came to the only logical conclusion; gently caress that terminal! __________ Scurrilous and SCR-417 are going to bludgeon that terminal until it's a pile of scrap metal. Then he's going to pocket any unbroken parts like wires and poo poo.
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# ¿ Nov 8, 2014 01:44 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Droppod "Oi! Leggo ah me you fart-huffin' inbreds!" Scurrilous curses as he is swept up in a sea of bodies. SCR-412 follows as quickly as it's master can, rolling over slower scrunts without a second thought. One particularly tiny scrunt-child's skull pops like a grape beneath those heavy treads. A few moments later the technoscrunt is packed tightly under a pile of excited scrunts. He tries to free himself but alas the press of scruntflesh is too heavy for him to move very much. He does hear a squeel when he activates his mechandrite's drill attachment, but as funny as it was it didn't help free him. Resigning to his fate Scurrilous looks over to see a familiar face making engine noises with his mouth. "I ken yew! Ya gave me rowbit buddy tha gift o' sight, yew did." ___________ Let's do this! Who What Now fucked around with this message at 02:29 on Nov 11, 2014 |
# ¿ Nov 9, 2014 23:22 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Dropsite Massacre It takes a little while before the technoscrunt can pull himself out of the tangled mess of scrunty limbs of the droppod and out into the fresh air and a moment more for his robotic companion to follow behind, it's tracks red with gore from the bodies he pulverized rolling out. Scurrilous listens intently to the plans being laid out before them. He thinks for a moment before scrounging in his pack and pulling out thick glass bottles with disgusting oil-soaked straps of what may have been scrunt-skin. "Stoppin' tha' big metal beastie is key but yew do tha' hower'er ya want. But when tha' dumb piss-garglers inside come on oot a thar, I'll take these," he holds up the bottles and sloshes them around a bit, "and wha'evah more yew lot can give me an' ah'll make sure we 'ave oorselves a proper meal a' roast manflesh!" "Oh, an if'n yew need bait fer the trap thaht gimpy oval office'll do yew best." He says, pointing to Groin. _____________ I vote for whatever gets the Chimera to stop and allows the occupants to exit, preferably somewhere we can plan exactly where they'll come out. My part of the plan that I'm proposing is that I'll take my firebombs and however many more everyone else will donate (the more the better, you can't have too many!) and rig up a massive remote incendiary trap that will catch the PDF just as they disembark. I'm thinking that we bury it just deep enough to cover it with a loose layer of dirt and it'd have a piston to push it up out of the ground to explode with maximum coverage. The any survivors would be easy pickings and it'd leave the Chimera as pristine as can be expected. Also I have volunteered Groin to be decoy if necessary. And I will shift my vote to any plan that includes both a massive home-made firebomb and him being in danger.
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# ¿ Nov 11, 2014 02:21 |
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We need to come up with a reason for them to stop and get out, not simply make the Chimera move around an obstacle. That's gonna mean some Scrunts are going to need to be bait. Probably not any of us, but bait is gonna be important, Also I vote against anything that puts the Chimera in a hole. We could dig it out and I can most certainly put it back together, but I'd rather we end up with a working Chimera that I could upgrade. Ambushing is the way to go. Firebombs would most likely take out most of them if we threw them en masse or used my makeshift bomb idea. After that gunning down the survivors should be easy. I figure two Scrunts try and snipe out the pintle gunner, while the other four ambush the troopers as they disembark. Scurrilous can't throw far but he can shoot well with the hosed up scrunt laser. So we have some scrunt orphans (scrorphans) stand in the middle of the road and hope the Chimera stops after splattering them. Then Scurrilous and Grimply provide cover support while the other four firebomb the troopers and then charge inside to kill the driver. Bing bong bing we have ourselves a pristine ride.
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# ¿ Nov 11, 2014 22:01 |
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Firebombs aren't going to ignite the entire interior, they're just a blast of flames meant to catch hair, skin, and clothing on fire, not steel plating. And really unless this is a command vehicle the only sensitive equipment is going to be a simple radio. It's a workhorse made to be durable enough for the Imperial Guard to use on any planet.
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# ¿ Nov 12, 2014 01:00 |
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All the seats would get thrown out anyway. It's all dead weight and besides we need more room to cram in more scrunts. We'll put new seats on the outside so scrunts'll ride along as a form of ablative armor.
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# ¿ Nov 12, 2014 01:06 |
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So how long until the Chimera rolls up on our gaggle of tiny hosed up mutants standing around loudly arguing over how best to ambush them? Because that's almost a perfect distraction in it's own right.
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# ¿ Nov 12, 2014 06:13 |
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My plan of making a very very large firebomb (or any other type of explosive) is completely compatible with any other plan the involves hurling projectiles. We'd just need a swole as gently caress scrunt to huck the thing 'cause it'll probably be heavy as hell. Pros: If it lands near the squad it's most likely to kill them all. Cons: If it misses we will have wasted materials. Personally I like the high risk high reward scenario. Additionally if we go with Gumbo's plan of luring them into the buildings my booby-trap would still be very useful. But I think Kreb's plan is best overall, with or without me making a mega-bomb.
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# ¿ Nov 12, 2014 21:05 |
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Yeah, if we lure the troopers away then one person should stay behind to shoot the driver in the back of the face.
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# ¿ Nov 13, 2014 00:54 |
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Taking some potshots at the side of it and then retreating to the buildings would probably force them to stop and disembark. And while the Chimera is an immensely powerful machine that could push down the trees and then drive over the trunks that would take time and effort, getting out and hoofing it would be easier. So I'm thinking we have three teams. Team 1 consists of three Scrunts waiting in the ruins to ambush the PDF. Team 2 is two Scrunts that get the Chimera's attention and then runs back to Team 1s position. These should be the hardiest and/or fastest. Team 3 is one Scrunt E: Wait are there six or eight of us? Whatever, add extra Scrunts wherever.
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# ¿ Nov 13, 2014 17:34 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Dropsite Massacre The Technoscrunt wastes no time hightailing it to the safety of the buildings across the road. Along the way, however he stops and begins to think devious thoughts to himself. Popping open SCR-417/s chest-compartment Scurrilous pulls out two explosives and a length of wire. He would set a trap most ingenious (by scrunty standards anyway) and take the troopers by surprise! The fact that his fellow scrunts might also stumble upon the traps does not seem to enter his mind as he begins to hide one charge between to trees and set up the tripwire. _________ I wanna use some wire and my two frag grenades to make two booby traps placed around what looks like probably approaches to the ruins. Tech Use vs INT 60 (this includes my +10 from my Servo-Arm). If Tech Use isn't a proper skill let me know what would be. E: Wait, are we doing our own rolls or are you?
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# ¿ Nov 14, 2014 20:16 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Dropsite Massacre Scurrilous watches the scene of carnage with rapt attention. Some time ago he had replaced his spleen with a powerful auspex scanner in an attempt to find out why he had had diarrhea for seventeen months straight. Sadly that didn't work and he had been left with a piece of tech in his body and a cord coming out of his side attached to a tiny screen that he could make scan for various things by clenching his rear end cheeks just right. He fumbles for it now and manages to activate the thermal imaging just in time to watch the Chimera erupt in a beautiful rainbow of heat and death. "Take that ya fakkin' clean water drinkin' grox-gropers!" He cheers. Replacing the auspex screen in his voluminous robes Scurr unholsters his monstrosity of a las-weapon and takes aim down one with the four sights. Then he aims down another. And then a third before he settles on the one on the far left. With a prayer to the Omni-Scrunt he unleashes a monstrous quad-blast of lasfire at one of the healthier looking fuckers. __________ I'm making a Standard Attack with my Double-Double-Beamy-Blaster on an +30 Ballistics test (+10 for Standard Attack, +20 Twin-Linked): 32 vs 68, 3 degrees of success. 2 hits for 1d10+4 Energy rending damage each: 11 wounds, and 11 wounds. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 01:43 on Nov 15, 2014 |
# ¿ Nov 15, 2014 01:35 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Dropsite Massacre Whooping loudly Scurr leaps for joy, this was truly the best day of his life since that time he found a dead dog and got to keep it all for himself! Dropping his home-made monstrosity of a weapon he instead pulls a stocky and compact rifle from somewhere on his deformed person. Too giddy to aim he blasts a few bullets in the general direction of the enemy. ___________ Dropping my weapon and then I use a Ready half-action to draw my autogun and then make a Standard Attack with it. Weapons Skill -10 check: 62 vs 28; 4 Degrees of Failure.
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# ¿ Nov 15, 2014 21:53 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Dropsite Massacre High on adrenaline and a few emotions he has never felt before, like happiness, a sense of accomplishment, and most foreign of all a feeling of perhaps maybe not being the worst thing in the universe, the technoscrunt isn't thinking clearly. Not that he ever is, but less so than usual. The smoke has obscured any warm bodies but there is one clear target; the Chimera. And so Scurrilous turns his gun on the armored vehicle and empties his clip onto the hull harmlessly. But the sound of the gun and the ricocheting bullets were exciting for him anyway. "GET SOME! GET SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME!!!" ______________ I'm gonna waste the turn attacking the Chimera. I'm not gonna roll for it but if you think I should anyway I'm cool with that. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 04:28 on Nov 18, 2014 |
# ¿ Nov 18, 2014 04:25 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Massite Dropsacre Scurrilous sits contently watching the fight in/on the Chimera. But suddenly his forgotten about companion Grimply starts screaming at the Technoscrunt just as the goings on on the APC get good! "Oi! Feck yew, ya cross-eyed oval office! Mehbe shoot at the feckers next time!" he shouts back at the Sniper. Turning back towards the melee Scurrilous is disappointed to find the vehicle has been brought to a halt as the last remaining humans are brought to heel. "Save a leg fer' me!" the Technoscrunt bellows as loud as he can as he dives off the half-story he had taken refuge on. Scurrilous loses himself in his duties. Regardless of whatever the other Scrunts decide to do, he takes stock of the Chimera's condition as well as attempts to take a tally of any potential upgrades he might make to the newly acquired vehicle. _________ Tech-Use: 26 vs 60 (Int+10[Utility Mechndrite]) to determine what condition the Chimera is in. Then another Tech-Use: 20 vs 60 (Int+10[Utility Mechndrite]) to determine a list of possible upgrades that would take less than two hours.
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# ¿ Nov 23, 2014 07:00 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Scruntmera - Before the Great Gathering of Scrunts Scurr is a blur of motion, clambering up and down the APC like a hosed up tiny lizard, mumbling himself and shouting strange gibberish to SCR-417 who follows along below him and chirps and beeps in response. Eventually he leaps down and puts his hands on whatever approximates for hips on his body as SCR trundles off somewhere. "Roight then. Oi! Eyeball! He barks at Groin. "I needs ya beamy-eye here, patch up this 'ere rid o' ours." Scurrilous begins to explain his plans to Groin and directing him water he was needed most. The technoscrunt's robot companion appears periodically bearing a sheet of scrap metal that it drops unceremoniously on the ground before immediately leaving to find more. Neither scrunt bothers to ask where it comes from and Scurrilous at least doesn't care. Scurr holds the sheets in place over the damaged areas as Groin welds them in place. This is repeated for quite awhile until finally the damage is almost completely repaired, although it certainly doesn't look better, as it resembles some sort of freakish mechanical Frankenstein than a military vehicle. OOC: 12 vs 80 (+10 [Mechandrite], +10 [Foresight], +10 [Groin's help]) to repair the Chimera. Scurrilous and Groin stand on top of the Chimera and peer at the hole Groin had cut in the top of the turret for some time. They could just repair it like the other holes, dents, and rents in the armor, but the technoscrunt has other ideas. "Yew ken, one gun is good, but ya know wha's better? More gun." He says with a devious sparkle is his scrunty eyes. He barks a command to SCR-417, who dutifully boops and quickly rolls away into the crowd of civilians. While the robot is away he and Groin get to work, bending a piece of metal into a circle to fit over the hole as a sort of track and fitting a hastily made weapon mount onto it. Moments after the mounting is made SCR returns, beating an autogun in each of his claws and drops them on the ground. "A well knoon fact, Groin me' friend, is that yew kin nevar have too much gun." He states proudly as he directs the operator to weld a small crossbar to connect the two guns together. He then climbs back up to the turret and slots the double-gun into the mount and grabs it experimentally. Holding one handle in each hand he can easily track the dual weapon left, right, up, and down, and when he squeezes both triggers at once they fire easily enough in tandem and the mounting absorbs the worst of the combined recoil. "That'll do, gun. That'll do." He says with a wicked grin. OOC: 36 vs 80 (+10 [Mechandrite], +10 [Foresight], +10 [Groin's help]) to construct a pintle mount and weapon. So now our chimera looks like this except with a double autogun instead of a storm Bolter and covered in scarp metal. But not so much to slow it down. Twin Autogun - (Basic | 100m | S/3/10 | 1d10+3 I | pen 0 | clip 60 | _________ The Great Gathering of the Scrunts Scurrilous walks up a little late to the large horse of scrunts, having stayed a little longer to do a few final checks on the Scruntmera and his new gun as well as reload and recheck all his own weapons. Scurr naturally gravitates towards the other technologically minded scrunts and listens for a few minutes as everyone screams over each other. Finally he's had enough. "Enough, ya rat-piss-huffers!" He yells over the din. "Fer one thing, ain't no scrunt on here is gon' touch me baby. Ya gaggle o' extra chromosomes couldn't fix a piece o' scrap if'n the Omniscrunt 'imself walked ye threw it! An' I'll put doon any a ya fecked up basterds that tries anyway." He says with as much menace as he can muster, and he waves his mechandrite threateningly for extra effect. "Now, what ur are gonna do is help me get more o' these fine mechanical beasts o' burden." At this point SCR's speakers begin playing inspirational background music as he speaks. "This be the fabled Slam Sector! An we did'na land 'ere to live off o' tha land! Or ta make a big fort like tha hummies. Nay! We came to live fast, an kill hard! Picture it lads, a great horde o' scrunts, driving where'ere we please! Take wha' we want, kill wha' we want! Be warriors o' the roads! Road warriors!" He says triumphantly, punching his fist in the air. ________ OOC: I want to find more vehicles, as many as we can get our hosed up mutant hands on, and become mauraders moving across the land at top speed. More APCs, tanks, walkers, fliers, so long as it's armored and fast. Intimidate is my best social skill, And I tried to be frightening at first, but if you feel that's not an appropriate skill then roll otherwise. As for loot, Scurrilous wants to become more like the machines he loves, and so any implants he doesn't already have are the top of his list. Barring that, a more powerful weapon or any weapon mods are desired as well. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 22:19 on Nov 29, 2014 |
# ¿ Nov 29, 2014 21:30 |
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Sweet. I thought that it would be Storm rather than Twin-Linked because the triggers weren't linked, but I don't have the books in front of me and won't until Monday so I wasn't sure. So I'll decide on the weapon mods then. Also I plan on using Foresight any time I have the time to allow it. That's a fantastic talent.
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# ¿ Nov 29, 2014 22:23 |
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scalded schlong posted:Yep, that's it. 0 + 0 wraps round to 100, 0 + 1 = 1 For everyone playing at home, 1 is the absolute best you can roll. It's literally a 1-in-a-100 type outcome!
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# ¿ Dec 2, 2014 02:00 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - before crashing through the gate As the scrunt horde begins it's journey, Scurrilous quickly finds a confined compartment or corner to squirrel himself away into while mumbling something about "...makin' ver' delicate repairs..." and insisting that he shouldn't be disturbed. And after a short time 'self-repairing' the little red-robed freak is lulled into a deep, deep slumber by the relaxing roar of the engines and the transmission's high-pitched cries as Groin forces it to upshift without even so much as thinking about the clutch. And it's not until now when the vehicle comes to a stop that he is roused. Not a morning scrunt, Scurr blearily asks, "Bflarginsmrt?" while getting up and moving to the front of the scruntmera. Climbing up past the turret and onto the pintle the cold air at drizzling rain wake him up enough for his thoughts to come back into focus and form a coherent sentence. Unfortunately Groin decides to rush the gate at that same moment. "So wha's goin' oooOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He cries in fright as the APC lurches forward at full ramming speed, shielding his face from debris with his mechandrite. Scurrilous' situation is not made better when the interior below fills with smoke. "Tha fack is happenin'?!" ________ Taking position on the storm-autogun. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 22:54 on Dec 19, 2014 |
# ¿ Dec 19, 2014 22:52 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - Outside the Weird Alien Orgy-Church Scurrilous tries to get his bearings back. You take one nap and suddenly everything goes to poo poo, he thinks to himself. Well, more to poo poo than is normal for the freakish in-bred band of merry mutants, anyway. But now was not the time for existential introspection about the scrunt condition, and Scurr does his best to take stock of the situation. Grimply is about to be beaten to death by a mob, so that's normal. Another mob is arming themselves to the teeth to try and kill them all, which is also to be expected. And a bunch of other little scrunts are scrambling around doing either Omniscrunt knows what or gently caress all. Yep, Scurr decides, this all checks out. So that meant there was only one logical course of action. Gripping the two handles of the stormgun he swivels the mounting to the left, takes aim, and squeezes both triggers to unleash a withering hail of lead at the mog moving towards Grimply. "SUPPRESSING FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!" _________ Half-Action to Aim and then another Half-Action for Full-Auto Burst against Squad 2, so long as I don't have massive penalties against them for some reason. Stats for the stormgun and multilaser if Kreb uses that are at the bottom of my character sheet. I get an extra DoS if I pass my BS test from my customization and double the number of hits from the Storm quality. I can't roll easily from phone postin' right now unfortunately.
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# ¿ Dec 21, 2014 07:27 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - Outside the Weird Alien Orgy-Church The technoscrunt cackles like a madman as he sees the squad he was aiming for scythed down like wheat before a thresher, an analogy completely lost on Scurrilous who neither knew what wheat nor a thresher was. But he does enjoy the feeling of watching multiple lives snuffed out in an instant. It makes him feel like... God. The blast he takes to the chest seconds later snaps him back to reality, though. His armor and the ham radio he had implanted in his chest take the brunt of it but he'll be hacking up blood for a good little while. "Ya fackin' turd-squattin' dong-danglers! Give it yer A game next time!" He spits in defiance. He grabs the stormgun again but before he can exact his revenge in a the form of dozens of bullets he feels the vehicle lurch sickeningly. A sense of dread fills his heart (or perhaps it was hydraulic fluid filling his heart, who knows?). "Groin...?" He asks anxiously as the Scruntmera picks up speed. "GROIN?!" He pleas again. But his words fall on deaf ears as the APC picks up more and more speed. "Nae, nae, nae, nae, NAAAAAAAAE!" Each protest is accompanied with a short blast of gunfire at the rocket squad. Scurrilous doesn't wait to see if he hits, instead ducking down into the shielded turret with Kreb, landing in a pile of the scrunt's horrid vomit. "I hate all ya' fackers..." ___________ Half-Action to do a Semi-Auto Burst at the Genestealer's squad. BS 38 vs 13, Damage: 6, 7, 11, 5, 4, 9 Then my remaining Half-Action to move into cover inside the turret or the Chimera proper if there's no room there. Wounds Taken: 5 Wounds Remaining: 7 Stormgun Clip: 34/60 Who What Now fucked around with this message at 19:14 on Dec 24, 2014 |
# ¿ Dec 24, 2014 18:05 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - Inside the Weird Alien Church Orgy "Groin, I truly, truly hate yeh. From the bottom o' me diesel generator." Scurrilous yells over the deafining ringing in his ears after the rocket attacks. But there is no time to throttle the cybernetic butthole like he wanted, his beloved APC needs defending! Pulling out his beloved beamy-blaster, and grabbing his backup rifle with his mechandrite, he awkwardly turns it vertical and crams it into one of the firing ports. Doing his best to aim it at the assholes shooting rockets he unleashes a fusillade of ruby red bolts. __________ Half-Action to ready my scrunty las-blaster and my autogun another Half-Action to make a Standard Attack at the Yeestealer's squad. BS 58 (38+10 Close Range+10 Standard Attack+20 Twin-Linked-20 Chimera Moved) vs 20. Damage: 14 (Righteous Fury!), 9 Who What Now fucked around with this message at 21:57 on Jan 2, 2015 |
# ¿ Jan 2, 2015 02:53 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - Inside the Weird Alien Church Orgy Scurrilous curses as another douchebag gets in between him and murdering one of those rocket assholes. Sure, watching another tall, handsome human's head burst like a grape put in SCR-417's chest'o'wave but his precious vehicle was still in danger. He quickly throws away his beamy-blasta, the weapon caught dutifully mid-air in his robot's claw, and he grabs his rifle from his servo arm and aims down the barrel at another rocket-oval office. Before he can fire though Groin slams the vehicle in reverse with a deafening screech of protesting transmission gears and roaring engine. "Yeh!" Scurr yelps happily as the Chimera moves out of line-of-sight of the rocketeers. That is until he sees the foul xeno slither out the front door NS beautifully dives between explosions from a carefully laid as if it were from a pict-recorder drama directed by Michaelos Bayton. An instant after it lands the technoscrunt swears the alien beast locks eyes with him before starting a charge towards the APC! "NaynaynaynaynaynayNAYNAYNAY!!! GROIN! KEEP DRINGING YEH DUMBFUCK!" as he lines up a shot and fires a quick burst, but the swaying vehicle makes it hard to aim. Cursing as the first salvo goes wide he aims back again and fires another trio of shots aimed right for center mass. __________ Autogun readied from last turn, I take a Half-Action to Aim and then a Half-Action to Semi-Auto Attack: BS 48 (38 base +10 Aim +10 Close Range -10 Chimera Move) vs 78 but I'll use a Fate Point for a Reroll: 4! For 5 DoS and 3 Hits. Damage: 9, 13 (Fury!), 5 Who What Now fucked around with this message at 23:40 on Jan 6, 2015 |
# ¿ Jan 6, 2015 23:38 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - Snakes? Snakes?! SNAAAAAAAAAAAAKES!! Scurr is in a panic as the giant alien fucker first smashes and tears into his precious battered and worn vehicle, and then to top it all horks up some tiny hosed up mini-xenos! The technoscrunt had, until this point, led a relatively quiet life for a horrid mutant that was more kitchen appliance than organic being. So it was little surprise that his mind would snap. Gripping his gun tightly Scurrilous begins to furiously scream and smash the butt of it at the tiny snake-thing, his cries punctuated with a loud CLANG! of metal on metal. Although it's hard to say who the target of his aggression really is. "Yeh get me babeh shot wif' rockets! Yeh driver 'er through walls! Yeh get 'er all torned up! An' now she's filled wif' snakes! I! Hate! YEH! SO! FAKKIN! MUCH!!" _____________ Full action All-Out Attack against the snake. Weapon Skill 62 (32 Base + 30 All Out Attack) vs 78
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# ¿ Jan 11, 2015 18:07 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Scruntmera - PffBBTLE! PGBLtesnort?! FFFFFffffaaaartt!! Scurrilous huffs and puffs mightily as he stands over the dead snake he just transformed into a thin red smear. His tiny frame heaves with each breath as he looks upon the red smear that is the Primaris Xeno (or Minors Xeno?!) that he has just killed. Glancing over, he watches Groin trip all over himself trying to flee the Scruntmera like a pussy. Running from some snakes? What kind of pussy is he?! Well gently caress that douchebag! There was no time to ponder what big a baby Groin was, there were xenos to pulverize! Scurr charges at the snake climbing up the ladder towards Grumb. Scurr is having the time of his life, smashing and flailing at the tiny snakes in the APC. After the last alien is turned into a thin paste, Scurrilous exits the vehicle and takes a few minutes to catch his breath. Afterwards, he puts his hands on his hips and tries his best to decide how best to repair the poor vehicle. All-Out Attack on the other snake(s) in the Scruntmera. After that, I'm going to just take some time to examine the state of our Chimera. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 23:16 on Jan 14, 2015 |
# ¿ Jan 14, 2015 19:37 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson The Farm - Techno Triage It takes no small amount of arguing, yelling, threatening, and swearing at himself but Scurrilous eventually gets his thoughts in order and devises a plan of action. "Roight! First things first, yeah. SCR, drive tha 'mera inna the shop. With a helpful 'weet-doot!' SCR-417 rolls inside the vehicle and drives it off towards the commandeered maintenance depot. Now it was time to talk to the troops. "A'ight ya pus-covered gaggle o' rat-teat-sucklers, 'eres the plan. I need yeh ta find me all'a tha strongest metal yeh can find along wif anything else useful like a noo drivey-shafters or mebbe even a set o' shocky-sorbers an' put it in a big ol' pile outside o' tha shop. Oi'm gonna look at these 'ere longcars an' see what's what." The other scrunts stare glassy-eyed back the technoscrunt, but otherwise do nothing. Scurr growls in anger and draws his club and brandishes it threateningly. "Knick e'rrything an' bring it back 'ere, yeh fecking cunts, 'for I brains yeh!" It seems that is more understandable, as the gang moves into action. With a sigh Scurr walks away to the maintenance shop to get to work. __________ Priorities from what you listed from highest to lowest are: 1) Repair the Scruntmera 2) Get limos working 3) Create and attach Dozer blade to Scruntmera 4) Create and attach some extra armor to limos 5) Create and attach weapon mounts limos (pintle mounts, not turrets and probably with stormguns or whatever kind of guns we have lying around in abundance) 6) Create serious mods for weapons 7) Create common mods for weapons I'm willing to farm out 2 only if it looks like they are already in decent condition. I'm also willing to farm out 4, 5, and 7 since it's not as big a deal if those don't get done.
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# ¿ Jan 16, 2015 18:46 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Finally. For the first time in his life Scurrilous' dream has come true. He finally has his own workshop, his own acolytes, his own opportunity to mold his fevered prayers to the Omniscrunt into reality through steel and oil and blood. Preferably not his blood, he'd bled enough in the but someone was bound to have an accident. But that didn't matter. The little technoscrunt had a domain all his own, and a tiny amount of authority that was just begging to be abused. "Roight! Listen up ya feck-heads! Yer all part of me own flock now, ken, an' we's a family united under tha Omniscrunt! Our work shall transformerate these machines into rolling, smoking, roaring temples to his greatness! Aye! They shall be symbols of tha' Omniscrunts promised land! Machines worthy of rolling in tha' Slam Sector!! An' we're gonna do this roight, we are![/b]" He preaches to the few scrunts who had willingly followed him into the workshop and the few others who had either wandered in or been shanghaid. "An doin' it roight means ya' little scab-spooners got's ta be in the roight frame o' mind, ya ken? So I's wills teach ya's how ta achieve tha..." He trails off for a second, rolling his wrist in the air as he searches for the words, "oneness! Ya, that sounds good enough. Tha' oneness wit' the Omniscrunt 'imself! SCR! With a chirp the robot rolls out from under a pile of scrap that had been hastily piled over top of him. Scurr begins to drop mysterious things like nondescript bags and oily rags into his creation's gigantic exhaust pipe. "SCR, make yer' holy huffin' fumes." He demands as he drops in one last item. With an electronic wail the robot kicks it's engine into triple-overdrive, producing a great gushing gout of flame to spurt out of it's exhaust pipe followed by a roiling plume of tar-like smoke. With a smile splitting his pock-marked face he plunges his head into the smoke and takes several deep breathes before falling backwards, coughing and retching his lungs out. "Aye, tha's tha stuff. Good poo poo. Now all ye take hits too." He manages to choke out without vomitting as one pupil contracts while the other dilates. It really doesn't matter If anyone else willingly takes a hit or not, though, because the poor ventilation doesn't give the smoke much place to go other than into scrunty lungs. Several hours later, after the spacemens leave, SCR-417 opens one of the large bay doors to let in some fresh air and let out a billowing cloud of death out into the starry night. As the haze clears other scrunts can see a group of passed out tiny hosed up mutants, machines that may or may not have once been an APC and some limos, and Scurrilous hastily scrawling out diagrams, schematics, and profanity on any surface he can reach with any material he can find. Soon enough he'll pass out, and later in the morning there will be much work to do. But for now there is only feverish writing. _________ I'll decide on a confirmed work plan in my next post. In the meantime if any needs to speak to Scurr in character just grab him. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 20:47 on Feb 1, 2015 |
# ¿ Jan 27, 2015 23:32 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson In between inhaling copious amounts of disgusting fumes, eating piles of unknown substances and pills squirreled away in his robes, and a few After another brief "Up an' attam ya anal fondlers! We got's work ta do today ta glorify tha Omniscrunt, ya ken?" He screams in between kicks. "We's got's work ta do, an here's what's gonna happen. Listen close, twat-dobblers;" He says before he explains everyone's jobs for the day. It was going to be a long, hard two days, but there was much to get done. ___________ Ok, here's what I personally want to get done. In order of most to least important. I'm going to take ten minutes to study every action before attemtpting so that'll be included in my check (including a possible -10 for failing my first test for working extra hours for the second day's work). But because of the many checks to be made I'll let you make them. For Scurrilous to do: 1) Repair the Chimera, 6 Hours (repair time halved due to SCR's new Servo-Arm); Tech-Use vs 80 2) Install Search Light, Instant; Tech-Use vs 90 3) Install Pintle Gun-Shield, 8 Hours; Tech-Use vs 70 4) Install Camo-Netting, 2 Hours; Tech-Us vs 70 END DAY ONE; Toughness vs 34 5) Attach chain-upgrade to Uroks gloves, 4 Hours; Trade: Armourer vs 70(60) 6)Create and Install Smoke Launches, 6 Hours; Tech-Use vs 60(50) 7) Create and Istall Frag Defenders, 6 Hours; Tech-Use vs 50(40) END DAY TWO; Toughness vs 34(24) END DAY TWO For my underlings I want them to perform as such: 1) Overhaul limos, distribute fuel around, scruntify limos, Instant; +20 Command 2) Sunroof-mounted pintle storm autoguns, 6 Hours; +0 Command Test 3) Enhanced Motive Systems, 10 Hours; -20 Command Test END DAY ONE 4) Finish Enhanced Motive Systems, 14 Hours; -20(-30?) Command Test Again, values in parenthesis are if I fail my Toughness test for the extra four hours work. And I'm willing to take the full two levels if I fail both days. I also realize this doesn't leave me any time to get healed by Murdelia. So unless that takes a narratively insignificant amount of time or she does it while I'm resting I'm ok with not getting healed (Murdelia pleased heal Scurrilous while he is passed out from exhaustion TIA). If I fail any check I want to retry it until each item is completed in order as time permits. I also realize that if I fail multiple times I wont get all/most of this done. That's ok. And if I understand I cannot both command scrunts and work, plus I don't have Command trained. So if anyone who *DOES* have that skill trained that wants to yell at my scrunts while I do my poo poo that'd be great. Otherwise... I don't think that stuff'll get done. Who What Now fucked around with this message at 22:00 on Feb 1, 2015 |
# ¿ Feb 1, 2015 21:57 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 12:20 |
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Scurrilous Scruntson Chomping a very thin self-rolled oily ciggarette between his teeth and taking a long drag, Scurrilous kicks back after a long two days work. Letting out a long, slow breath of acrid and distressingly green smoke from his lungs he begins to idly fidget with the chainsword and tox-injector that weirdo Urok dropped off to him. It was a piss-easy and mindless job, perfect for the technoscrunt to work on to relax and forget about the failure of the frag-defender project, the aftermath of which was still smoldering in the corner. Others join him in the workshop, Grimply tells a particularly good story that Scurr chuckles to, but all in all he doesn't join in, he was too tired at the moment. But he feels all the successful work he's done speaks more than enough for him. As he slaps the last injector in place and puts the exquisite chainsword on the table, he once again leans back and relaxes. Soon enough they'd leave and he'd be shot at, ordered around, and probably die. But right now it was good to be the king. __________ Trade: Armorer: 32 vs 60, 3 DoS If anyone else needs something done by me last minute lemme know soon so I can edit it in.
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# ¿ Feb 9, 2015 01:46 |