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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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I think its time to talk about SS13.

>Be Captain
>All Criminals who get sent to Perma get sent to mining instead
>Once there they can meet a quota of Ores and earn their freedom.
>Accidentally end a Rev round this way by sending the last to Rev Leaders to The mining station.
>feels good.
>Good like a Lizard Janitor.
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>Be QM.
>Murder Chief of Engineering, ESCAPE ALONE
>Derp about round, steal voidsuit, get a Singulo beacon.
>Before I set it up, "SINGULO IS LOOSE!"
>Singulo cleaves the station in two
>Starts eating Escape wing.
>Jetpack over to Escape, as the shuttle arrives.
>Singulo starts eating the shuttle
>Single piece survives, CLING TO IT FOR DEAR LIFE!
>Singulo tries to suck me in.
>Three minutes later.
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Go to the second server, first is usually shit
Go to the second server
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>Be Security Guard, Hutch Williams, accompanied by Starsky Jones, another security guard.

>Go into Sec to get supplies, start eating donuts.

>"Hey hutch, what the hells going on in the detective's office"


>Ghost is rampaging throughout the office, attacking the Detective

>We jump in there and try and fend it off, it being a ghost, it doesn't give a fuck that we just shot at it 3 times.

>All the walls catch on fire, blood starts splattering on the floor, lights are flickering on and off, literally shitting myself and screaming over the mic for engineering to come save us.

>Captain and HoE come and save our asses, we leave and never return.

>Eventually find pinestripe suits and sunglasses, Starsky and I put that shit on and become MiB.

>Station is going to shit, ghost infestation

>Janitor, Starsky and I walk into the church to find blood everywhere and the captain with a group of people surrounding a handcuffed man from Medical

> Captain: "If we sacrifice this one all of us will be spared!"

>Starsky and I exchange glances

>"aww fuck it"

>we join in on the ritual sacrifice, I legitimately believed the captain's words

>"IT" appears and everyone realizes what they've just done

>Captain screams out, laughing as he becomes one with it

>Janitor throws cleaning grenade to cover our escape

Fast forward another twenty minutes, the station is without power, creepy music is playing and random people have gone insane, killing indiscriminately. Starsky and Hutch have a hard time trying to survive, fending off a few armed cultists with well placed taser shots and then lighthearted usage of handcuffs. We determined to bring order to this god forsaken space hulk.
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>Unkown voices start screaming "STAY IN THE LIGHT, OR 'HE' WILL STEAL YOU.."

>I have a flashlight, so we're basically a mobile safezone

>A group of organized cultists ambush us, knocking me to the floor as starsky expends the rest of his taser charge

>I'm bludgeoned by a man with some piping or grating of some sort, in the red. I look over to starsky as I get up and stun baton my assailant, my partner has been knocked unconscious and being looted

>I try and fend them off but they use the chainsaw that they used on Starsky to kneecap me, steal my shoes back pack and weapons, and drag off starsky.


>I limp through the darkness, trodding on broken glass, over xfire starsky tells me that his soul is in the Jukebox in the Cafe/bar place. I wat. I spend the rest of the time trying to locate starsky, succeeding, getting beaten by cultists and then having his soulless body stolen from me.

One of the most fun games I've ever played.
Our faces when, "IT" is summoned.

This game sounds amazing.
>Round right now.
>You are the traitor!
>Kill the RD and escape alive!
Not so bad.
>Get a job change to RD, bide my time, cook six bombs up.
>Para Pen + C4 the RD for guaranteed success.
>Plant bombs around the station.
>Hide in Escape Pod locker until round ends.
The Traitor Was Successful!
first server is better
>Start round, bored assistant, grab tools and gloves, ask captain to be batman
>captain makes me batman with almost full access
>grab hos spare set, egun, baton, cuffs, patrol about
>way later, a rune is found
>get implanted
>bust up cultists left and right with my bros kingston and keith (QM (or cargo guy?) and captain)
>captain disappears sometime
>jazmin, warden, joins in
>cultists get the better of us an hour later in science
>they sacrifice the captain, flee by portal
>some miner clones us
>continue busting cultists
>I made the AI kill cultists some time earlier, it helps us along pretty good all round
>feels good man.

yesterday? I paladin'd the AI because freeform boards were missing and I needed to do something against, I think it was changelings.
since I was an assistant with a stolen HoPs ID the AI could have fucked me over right there and then and declare me evil, but instead it a) didn't report my theft to the heads (well, they knew about it, but the AI didn't know that) b) when I asked it 'how legitimate is my authority?' it said 'Its not legitimate, but I will carry out your requests within reason. You are a rogue with her heart in the right spot.'
that latter part made me feel good man :3c
xposted from SA

One of the round types in SS13 is Wizard, in which a powerful wizard is tasked with completing several objectives, while the crew must attempt to kill him. Wizards get access to a huge variety of spells, but can only choose four of them from the list at the start of the round; these are the spells they are limited to for the whole round.

One such spell is Curse of the Cluwne (at least, I think that’s what it’s called). This spell is generally considered a choice for “advanced” wizard players, since it has an extremely long cooldown, only targets one opponent, and can only be used at melee range, making it quite risky to use. It’s still a popular spell, though, as it is far and away the griefiest spell of all. The Curse instantly transforms its victim into a Cluwne: a morbidly obese, subhuman, epileptic, brain-damaged, amazingly annoying ur-clown named “the cluwne” and wearing utterly hideous neon green clown clothing that is cursed and therefore cannot be removed. Cluwnes are traditionally marked for death by their non-cursed former comrades, and even when they manage to escape being murdered by an angry mob, they are so fucking terrible at everything that their very existence is torment and they commonly wind up begging for death since their incredible incompetence can actually make it difficult for them to successfully commit suicide.
I have played in quite a few Wizard rounds, but one still sticks out as my absolute favourite. The wizard went on a Cluwney rampage that was funny as hell on its own, but the actions of one enterprising Roboticist turned the round from “hilarious” to “oh jesus my sides I’m dying over here” in no time flat. This ambitious soul retrieved a murdered Cluwne and dragged it back to his lab; ordinarily this would be a reason for the Cluwne to rejoice, since a Cluwne brain can still function perfectly normally if transferred into a cyborg, granting the player a new lease on life.
The Roboticist did not borg the Cluwne. He had other plans. Butt plans.

The deceased sad-clown was delivered to Genetics, where the Roboticist and a Geneticist entered into collusion. Now two people were in on the butt plans.

I have no idea what madness they got up to in there, but I do know that the second Roboticist was put on Butt Duty, bringing the known number of butt plan conspirators up to at least three. It is also likely that a delivery man was involved so as to speed the process along, as Butt Duty was a full-time job. All those butts had to come from somewhere, however:

They were cloning Cluwnes.

The mastermind behind it all sat contentedly at his operating table and worked with astounding assembly-line efficiency. Behind him was a locker with a seemingly limitless number of twitching, honking, weeping Cluwnes stuffed into it; he would grab a Cluwneclone, slap it onto the table, neatly slice off its butt, indifferently cut out its brain, hurl the dead body and retarded brain down the disposal chute while he set the butt to one side, and repeat. The man on Butt Duty would then grab the Cluwne butt and slap a robot arm onto it, creating a Buttbot, a butt on wheels that served no purpose except to be a butt and say the word “butt.”
The efficiency and hard work of the Butt Conspiracy paid off, and before long Medbay was entirely crammed with Buttbots, to the point where the entire area was rendered non-functional and impassable due to the surging ocean of little wheeled cyberbutts happily beeping “butt” in a tinny chorus. But(t) crowding was not the issue - Buttbots do one thing aside from simply say “butt” now and again. When a Buttbot hears someone speak, it has a chance to repeat what was said, with “butt” substituted in place of random words.

This became an issue when the Captain strolled into Medbay and was aghast at its sorry state. “What the fuck is going on here?” he shouted.

The Buttbots chirped up in a gleeful, deafening chorus. “What the butt is butt on here?” “Butt the fuck butt going on butt?” “What butt butt is going butt here?” and so on and so forth, in a disorienting wave of auditory butt. This infuriated the Captain further, but his hollering and order-giving only further excited the Buttbots, making it totally impossible for anyone nearby to hear what was said or get any idea of what the fuck was going on amidst the titanic cacophony of butt. The Captain flew into a rage and decided to destroy all of the Buttbots, but he forgot that they leave smears of poo when destroyed; it was not long before he slipped head-over-heels and wound up prone and stunned in a puddle of human excrement, cursing relentlessly while the legion of Buttbots around him babbled back page upon page upon page of buttified imitation.

Seeing this, some jokester took a radio, turned on its microphone so that it would publicly broadcast anything it picked up, and tossed it into the room.
Well, shit, now nobody could hear anything. Every radio on the station became a hellish noise cannon, blasting out an incomprehensible wall of recursive butt laced with garbled cursing and butt-riddled mockeries of the crew’s anguished cries for silence. At some point a bunch of the Buttbots came within hearing distance of the Cluwneclone closet; this is significant because Cluwnes will randomly and uncontrollably burst into fits of screamed honking. There were dozens of Cluwnes in that thing, and their eerie wails of HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK soon became a HONK HONK butt HONK butt blared forth from uncountable Buttbot speakers, received by the radio and broadcast throughout the station, magnifying upon itself until it was quite literally impossible to divine the slightest scrap of understanding from the game’s text box as it was choked by dozens of pages of recursive buttspam per second. The Captain was helpless to stop it. The Roboticists were churning out Buttbots faster than he could destroy them, leaving him effectively stranded in the middle of the deafening, butt-packed hell that had once been Medbay.

I don’t even know what the fuck happened to that wizard, and I don’t care. He was not the true villain of that round. The Robutticists were.
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Holy balls. I lost it. I was reading this at work and I fucking lost it. I'm so glad there was only one other person in in the room when I read this because I was able to pass it off as a 'nerd joke email'
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So the newest Round of highly professional tested Coder material on the big 1000th update is that most hand held items in the game summon shoot meteors.

Good Job Coders. You're clownshoes.
Big Red, Squeeky, mostly useless.
Clownbutt shoes.

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