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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Your name is Darius Duravi, a self-taught expert on piloting six robots at a time. You shoot straight, conserve ammo and always cut deals.

[The Operator Tournament Rules] http://pastebin.com/0YSSbCPq
[How We Roll] http://pastebin.com/ep32Mkfq
[QM Twitter] https://twitter.com/HouseDuravi

Previously, you:
-asserted superiority over wannabe operators
-earned a cool 25,000 (60k in contemporary USD)
-had a chat with your uncle, he told you to settle down
-tickled a cute bartender, got her friend's number
-went to bed, had a weird dream
-blew up a wyvern, got killed by wyvern posthumously

You remain dreaming, but you're lucid and trapped. Fight it or ride it out?
[1/2]
>>
>>32057200
The blackness turns to a purple haze. You unwillingly open your eyes as somebody softly slaps you again and again.

"Hey, come on. Come on, you slacker! Get up!"

Some feminine voice. Your vision settles in. The girl in front of you - or rather, on top of you - is straddling your torso while lazily smacking your cheeks. Open palms, no force. You're lying on something that feels like it should be hard and uncomfortable, but actually feels like air.

More important than any of that is the fact that everything is tinged purple.

You are in some sort of very run-down building. It looks like a revolution tore through whatever godforsaken nation you're in right now - and then everybody died. And now you're here.

Rubble and debris everywhere, mostly swept to the side to make a fairly clear path. Blood is splattered on some of the walls in modest amounts. You sit up.

"Come on, don't you want to explore this place?"

...Explore?

"Cyril is up ahead, he's scouting the area and waiting for us to catch up. You just dropped like a rock all of a sudden. Let's go!"

You know how this dream ends, too. Unfortunately.

>[] Attack the girl in front you. The sooner you can reach the endgame, the better. You can't avoid The Enemy.
>[] Lead the girl away. You need to save her from the horrible fate that awaits her. She doesn't suspect it, but it has already befallen the friend.
>[] Follow the girl. Though this dream is familiar, you appear to have forgotten everything about it. Something is off, but you can't fight what you don't know.
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32057200
Archive?
>>
>>32057361
Same place as always?
>>
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>>32057361
D'oh! Sorry, forgot.

>>32057200
[Catch the fuck up!] http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Operator%20Operator%20Quest
>>
>>32057267
Oh shit right voting is a thing.
>[] Follow the girl. Though this dream is familiar, you appear to have forgotten everything about it. Something is off, but you can't fight what you don't know.
>>
>>32057267
dropped your trip OP

>[] Follow the girl. Though this dream is familiar, you appear to have forgotten everything about it. Something is off, but you can't fight what you don't know.
>>
>>32057502
The girl pulls you up and out of the room. You run through the corridors, your feet somehow kicking away heavy stones you'd trip over in real life. She's both fast and slow.

Her figure moves slowly, but you traverse large distances. You move from the middle of the hallway to the staircase in a few short bounds. It feels cramped, but there's a good four meters between each wall.

Oh god, the walls.

The paint on the walls is peeling off, dark stains cover them, little splotches of dark red litter them below waist level. There's a large amount of dust in the air, floating constantly, weightless.

The two of you run up the stairs, though it's lacking a few steps.

Before you know it, you're on the next floor, which looks pretty normal, if shorter. A door is on the other end.

You try to force your mouth open and say something.

"Hey. Who are you?"

No use. She's ignoring you. Or rather, she can't hear. You're on rails, here.

Finally, you make it to the other end and exit. You find yourself on a tiled roof with a very soft slant. There's a few people here, dressed much like the girl: unusually expressive clothing, but muted colors. A few unfamiliar faces, but also a grown woman in battle dress and your friend. You spot him instantly. He isn't colorless, just like the girl.

"Hey [ ], feeling better?" He turns to the girl beside you. She's covered in a thin layer of dust. "Did you find anything?"

>[] Custom.
>>
>>32057719
Attempt to grab the girl.
>>
>>32057719
I have literally no idea what to do.
>>
>>32057783
>>32057801

You ignore the guy talking to you and reach out to the girl.

Everyone else seems to move towards the door, entering back into the building.

She's tangible, alright. You pat her on the head.

When she shoots you a look that says "hey, not here, people are watching" you realize that she's one of the characters that can actually think. You try to save face by getting the dust off.

Completely disregarding the fact that she hasn't been paying attention to him, the guy from before says something to signify the end of their conversation.

He goes for the door. The girl turns to move in the same direction.

You examine the roof again, now that there aren't any people. There's a sink in the wall that forms the corridor you just got out of. Something black glistens in it.

There's a gray metal chest on the ground, closed, but not quite. There's some space.

You feel your eyes gravitating towards the door once more. The girl stops before it and tells you to hurry up.

>[]Go for the door before you're left alone.
>[]Check out the sink. Maybe there's a weapon?
>[]Look inside the chest. Could there be something useful?
>>
>>32057889
>>[]Check out the sink. Maybe there's a weapon?
>>
>>32057889
>[]Check out the sink. Maybe there's a weapon?
Loot?
>>
>>32057915
>>32057933
You go up to the sink, watching the metallic glint carefully. As you get close enough to peer over the edge, it threatens to coagulate into a revolting blob, but you close your eyes and think hard about something more useful. When you open them, there sits a shiny, unusually round grenade.

A grenade's a bad choice for close-range combat.

You turn back to the door, a sinking feeling in your gut. Nobody. You got distracted and were left behind. You run for the door, open it and peer inside. Nobody.

You enter cautiously. It seems darker than before. Everything you see is a slightly deeper shade of purple. Your body grows heavy. You blink and immediately regret it.

It's all covered in blood. There's blood on the walls, blood on the ceiling, blood pooling on the floor. You're standing in one such pool right now. Moving your eyes back up to look ahead, you note two glowing red dots. There's two bodies just below them, stacked on top of each other. The eyes peer at you as if over sandbags.

The Enemy.

>[] Don't blink, throw grenade.
>[] Turn around, run.
>[] Stare it down.
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32058051
>[] Don't blink, throw grenade.
>>
>>32058051
>[] Don't blink, throw grenade.
>>
>>32058062
Alright, roll d20-5. DC is 12.
>>
Rolled 9 - 5

>>32058107
>>
>>32058102
You too.
>>
Rolled 18 + 5

>>32058107
this right, I forget how 4chan handles adding.subtracting from dice
>>
>>32058135
evidently not, so that roll would be a 13
>>
>>32058135
You have to write it as dice+XdY+-Z
>>
>>32058145
that makes no sense to subtract a number, and yes - actually adds to it...
>>
>>32058157
>and yes
and yet*
>>
>>32058110
>>32058135
Well, let's assume you rolled 18. That makes it 13, so you beat the DC. Should I just add to the DC in the future? I feel like it makes more sense to modify player rolls. I'll add the >>32058145 formula to the pastebin in any case.

Writing.
>>
>>32058206
>Should I just add to the DC in the future?
How so?
>>
>>32058206
Just mention the modifier, I assume the players are smart enough to do single digit addition/subtraction in their heads.
>>
>>32058225
By saying "DC is 12+5".
>>
>>32058234
this works, we can just roll one dice and do the simple math ourselves after its rolled
>>
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>>32058110
>>32058135
[Success!]

You keep your eyes wide, wide open. It's certainly difficult - there's dust everywhere - but if you so much as blink, The Enemy will be upon you. That there is a lost cause. An unsalvageable situation.

You grip the grenade with both hands, holding it like a baseball. Roaming over it, your fingers quickly find the pin. You pull it out. A large, red numerical appears on the floor, but you don't look at it. That would distract you. The moment you look away, you're dead. No, you keep looking straight into those beady, glowing eyes.

You pull your throwing arm back, swing it and throw. The numerical changes. The explosive sails through the air. It seems to leave a golden trail in the lavender air.

The numerical changes again. You can feel The Enemy trying to move away. Your vision shakes, but you refuse to give up.

"Don't you fucking dare move!" You scream. The dots move up to look at the grenade, breaking eye contact with you.

It clinks softly as it strikes.

BANG!

A blast of fire lights the hallway up. The explosion flings a child's body in a charred red dress at you. It's relatively unhurt, but slightly bruised. This must've been The Enemy this time. You now have a new threat, however: a raging inferno, quickly moving towards you. You run back through the door.

You are on the roof again. Jump off the roof..?

>[] Custom

Fuck captcha.
>>
Sorry for the slow, 4chan kept on rejecting my post.
>>
>>32058501
>Jump off the roof and wish our previous transformation hard enough for it to return.
>>
>>32058501
fuck this building, lets jump

fucking captcha
>>
>>32058693
>>32058847
Looks like we're jumping.

Writing.
>>
>>32058693
>>32058847
With a blistering flame gaining on you rapidly, you resolve to resist the only way you can think of.

One foot in front of the other. Then again. Step by step, you start walking. Faster, faster, until it turns into a jog. Your strides lengthen until you finally skip the running phase and break into a mad dash. You feel a heat right behind you.

How could the fire have spread so quickly?

But it doesn't matter. The geometry of this building has stretched the roof to the length of a runway. Already panting, you make one last push with your feet and leap off the roof. A layer of mist forms some dozen meters below the altitude at which you threw yourself off the building. You can't see the ground. You turn around in midair, facing the sky.

A fireball hurtles from the hallway you departed. Big one, too.

The Enemy isn't dead, but you did defeat it. Mission fucking accomplished.

Too bad you die now. Did you expect the nightmare to end with you surviving? It's a motherfucking roguelike.

[Congratulations! You have won your first contest!]
[+1 EXP: Survived encounter with Enemy!]
[+1 EXP: Defeated enemy once!]
[+1 EXP: Exercised Will to acquire armament.]

[Do you wish to continue dreaming?]

>[] Try to stir awake.
>[] Go for one more.
>>
>>32059121
>[] Try to stir awake.
lets get operatan
>>
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>>32059121
>The Enemy isn't dead, but you did defeat it.

>[x] Go for one more
>>
>>32059157
We'll be operatan anyway.
>>
>>32059121
As much as I'd like to know the relevance of these dreams, I'm for wakan up, operatan, and fuckan bitches. Unless we're fresh outta bitches.
>>
Rolled 2

>>32059157
>>32059169
Alright, it's been ten minutes and no tiebreaker vote.

1=Stir awake.
2=One more.
>>
Rolled 2

>>32059305
Oh! Nice to see you.

Disregard >>32059315.

Writing.
>>
>>32059157
>>32059169
>>32059305
You've had enough of this shit. It's time to get up. You start by counting numbers. You get up to "3" before your subconscious starts throwing hieroglyphs at you.

How DO you wake up? You need to think of something that a dream can't tolerate. Something that won't behave like it will in real life, the disparity between the observed event and the reality of it so great that you jolt awake.

You're damn used to lucid dreaming, but a simple trick might get you out.

>[] Custom.
>>
>>32059403
Conjure up a top. Spin it.

I'm on my phone, no Inception pictures from me, sadly.
>>
>>32059403
>You need to think of something that a dream can't tolerate. Something that won't behave like it will in real life

Our not-uncle being a kind retired old man.
>>
>>32059403
i'll second >>32059417 & >>32059457
>>
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>>32059417
>>32059457
[Success!]
[Partial success!]

As you assume the pose of The Thinker, an old man walks up to you from the darkness. This guy is... strange. He's dressed like Spanish musketeer. On a horse. What?

"Let there be table!" He says. And lo and behold, there appears a table before him. Finely crafted.

He stretches out his free hand, the other holding a horse by the reigns, and drops a top on the freshly-conjured furniture.

"Spin it," he says. "Spin the top."

"What?" You reply?

"Just fucking spin it already!"

You comply, slightly baffled.

"What am I supposed to be seeing he-" You stop short. This old man - he's the spitting image of your uncle! Only sporting a mighty white beard, matching his hair. "Uncle?"

"That's Old Man Sam to you, whippersnapper. And yes. Have you tried not getting high before going to bed?"

Even in your dreams, even old and mellowed-out, your uncle still makes ridiculous accusations.

"I don't."

"Yeah, how about no? I saw how that fucking dragon shot fire at you. And the one from before, he tried to kill you, too. What is it with you and dragons?"

"I hate the scaly bastards."

"I bet that doesn't keep you from buying all those dragon dildos, though!"

"Wha-! I don't-!" You begin to stammer.

"Look at this top. How long have we been talking?"

"It's a dream, who the fuck knows. Probably 5 minutes."

"I didn't know tops spin that long. Your 'batin' arm must be real good to keep it going 'til now."

You stare at the little device. He's right. It's still going strong, not wobbling a bit. You get woozy and clutch your stomach.
[1/2]
Just a sec!
>>
>>32059702
Your eyes snap open with force, as if you've been trying to pry them open for hours. You managed to sweat up a storm.

You decide to take a shower to shake off the drowsiness, but it doesn't quite accomplish the task.

You feel like taking a stroll.

Where do you go?

>[] The artificial, climate-controlled park. It's nice and cool there. A certain somebody is waiting for you there.
>[] The old, abandoned building in your block. Somehow, it hasn't been torn down. A certain somebody is waiting for you there.
>>
>>32059785
>[] The artificial, climate-controlled park. It's nice and cool there. A certain somebody is waiting for you there.
>>
>>32059785
>[] The artificial, climate-controlled park. It's nice and cool there. A certain somebody is waiting for you there.

Awww. I was going to suggest 2d women.
>>
>>32059837
I second 2d
>>
>>32059797
>>32059837
You set off for the park. It's full of coniferous trees and shrubbery from the same northern climate. On the way, you see a tobacco shop.

You could really go for a smoke right about now.

>[] Grab some cigarillos.
>[] Swear off the tobacco.

>>32059837
>>32059860
>2D women
How?
>>
>>32059904
>How?
We have a VR brain plug that outrifts Facebook Rift don't we..?

>[x] Swear off the tobacco
We need healthy lungs to shout with when we become Emperor of Dune
>>
>>32059904
>[] Swear off the tobacco.
Smoking may look cool, but it is bad for your cardio.

>How?
You ever see a 2d girl act like a real one?
Don't answer that though. It's supposed to be a rhetorical question.
>>
>>32059904
>[] Swear off the tobacco.
may as well start now
>>
>>32059952
>>32059986
>>32059990
Healthy gentlemen, the lot of you. Looks like you really do intend to carry out that military coup.

You pass it by. Professor Huxley has told you time and again that you can't smoke. It's been months since you last did and there's no trace of it in your system, but...

No. Can't rule the dune with lung cancer. You can't afford to waste money on curing all the shit smoking tends to inflict. To speak nothing of buying preventative medicine.

The night city is beautiful. If daytime New Babylon is metal and stone, the night turns it to glass and crystal. The wet asphalt, recently washed by civil servants, glistens with a moist sheen. The air still has a little dust, however. It hasn't settled down yet, it seems. You walk through one of the main streets. It's nothing all that special to you, though: you can see it out of your windows. It's large and loud and cars fly by, though rarely. 24/7 shops try to attract customers with neon signs even in the dead of night.

It's 5 AM.

You eventually turn to a small alley and start weaving through the backstreets. Minutes later, you arrive at the entrance to the Central NBC Park. It's covered with a dome.
[1/2]
>>
>>32060229
Upon entering, cold air rushes into your lungs. Inside, the temperature is always a steady 15 degrees Celsius. Walking for a while warms you right up, though, so you don't mind it. Most New Babylonians like the Peripheral NBC Parks scattered throughout the city better. Those are a sight warmer than this one, but still a pleasure to have a picnic in on a hot summer day. After all, temperature in those is maintained at 25 degrees, like late spring up north.

A lot of what the Empire gives its citizens comes from the north. The culture, the language, even the plants and animals. Yes, these forests have deer and squirrels. Perhaps even bears. But the people are different. Technically, there are no ethnicities in the Empire: it eschews all such notions by which people may be segregated.

On paper.

In reality, you're either in the inner circle or you're not. The only deciding factor is your naturalization. It's easy to spot those who embrace Imperial culture: they work to get a chance to change their name, and then they do. This is, however, ill-advised.

Once you change your name, you're expected to discard all ties to your own culture - your new name means you have a new home. You accept a new way of living. You rise.

You also become hated by the common folk. This rings true whether you're in Hong Kong or New Babylon. It's betrayal. So when you finally accomplish that great deed that qualifies you as having "significantly contributed to the greatness of the Empire," you better make sure you've got enough cash to move downtown. Gotta buy that high-tier citizenship.

Your stroll through the chilly park continues while you ponder the social problems in the Empire. The surrounding trees give off a soft luster, coated in the morning dew.

You come to a dead end in the pavement. It ends in a rather large square, one side of it punctuated by a low, stone wall.

You look straight ahead. There's Shanoa.

>[] Greet her.
>[] Say nothing.
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32060546
[x]Custom
Abuse the flora and pluck a particularly attractive flower as you approach. Then either offer it if she looks as if she might like it or eat it as an icebreaker.
>>
>>32060604
Seconding this, but just staying silent and sitting down next to her on the bench, holding the flower.
>>
>>32060604
>>32060680
Next thing I know, you'll be abusing the Custom vote to hold hands with her. Have you no shame, seducing a young maiden like that?
>>
>>32060727
Whoa man, way too lewd. There's a huge step between being silent, aloof with a proffered flower and holding hands. Are there Imperial laws against such public indecency?
>>
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>>32060604
>>32060680
15 minute break for dinner. I'll be right back!

>>32060780
There are. But would the Empire really spy on a couple in a park on a cold May morning? Who knows.
>>
>>32060825
Waiting warmly.
>>
>>32060894
>>32060604
>>32060680
>>32060780
Shanoa looks at you intently. She's been waiting for a little while, it seems. You meet her gaze head on, with a confident smile. Immediately, it leaves your face. You look into the distant sky, up and to the right. You squint at an invisible bird that isn't flying, a chopper than isn't flying by. You appear to be having difficulty making out what that something is.

She bites the bait hard. First, a puzzled expression. Then she finally looks. All this would be a waste, though, if you didn't realize one crucial detail: she turns back to look at you again. You keep staring in the same direction, squint harder and move your head slightly, as if following the nonexistent object's trajectory.

She turns once more, and you're finally free to seize your chance: you pluck a particularly large chamomile flower and hide it behind your back.

As you approach her, Shanoa looks back at you and puffs her cute little cheeks.

"You tricked me, didn't you?"

You say nothing in response, simply sitting down beside her, smiling. She turns away with a "Hmph!", pretending to be mad.

>[] Tuck the flower behind her ear.
>[] Tickle her neck with it.
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32061225
>[X]Custom

Perhaps we are still reeling from our nightmares, but we feel the urge to hold the flower in our mouth and say "don't hate me because I am beautiful". And we offer her the thing after the laughter subsides.
>>
>>32061341
I'll go with this.
>>
I wonder if we scared away the QM..
>>
>>32061680
2lood4him
>>
>>32061341
>>32061370

An idea pops into your head. Oh man, this is gonna be great! You take the flower out and put it in your mouth like a tango dancer would hold a rose. With your blessed tongue, you mange to articulate, skilfully and with arrogance:

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful."

Shanoa looks at you from the corner of her eye.

"...Babe."

Aaaand that does it. She lets out a stifled giggle at first, but it quickly turns to a full-hearted laugh. You share a chuckle afterwards.

"I did get this for you. I hope you like it."

She smiles warmly.

"I do." As she accepts the flower, you stare right ahead, down the path you took to get here.

"Does your father still think we're dating?"

"Mm. He believes what he likes. As always." A tinge of despair resounds in that last part.

"You should tell him the truth sometime soon, though."

"Are you tired of these dates?" Shanoa asks. You chuckle.

"No, of course not. Not with a girl like you." She blushes slightly in reply. "It's been a while since we met, hasn't it? I think it was in this park."

"Yeah. Our class was supposed to meet up here, but you were late. As always." The class prez gives you an accusing glare.

"Come on, that was back in middle school. What was it, the sixth grade?" You put your hands up in defense, as if it'll shield you.

"The fifth, actually."

"Fifth grade, huh? And you were already class prez for life. Well, don't be mad at me. I was still a 'too cool for school' brat. I didn't even think I'd make it into college."

"But you did."

"Eh, I've only recently discovered that spending all day with Old Man Sam isn't all that great. He's got to nagging."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Said he wants me to marry you."

Shanoa recoils at this. "Y-you can't be serious! Did he... really say that?" You turn to look at her. If you didn't know better, you'd say she sounded hopeful. Good thing you're not delusional.
[1/2] Part 2 in a sec!

>>32061680
>>32061701
das sum scary shite m80s
imps gun get me
>>
>>32061734
"Nah. He said some other stuff, though." You deign to respond to Shanoa's inquisitive look: "Nothing important. My plans are the only plans I follow."

"Sure are."

"Speaking of plans, it's kind of odd, isn't it? I never expected you to be interested in biochemistry like me." The girl starts sweating bullets.

"I-I've just been hiding it well. I didn't want the class to think I'm a g-geek or anything." Her body visibly tenses up. She pulls her shoulders up, staring at the hands she has now put on her knees; they, in turn, are clenched tightly together.

"Kind of amazing how a natural leader like you loses it over what your peers might think."

"Well, I handle it better than you do!" And now she's angry. What is with her? "Anyway, I think dad will be satisfied with this. Wanna go back together?"

Huxley and Orlov are waiting for you back at the lab. They don't give two squirts a piss about visitors, so long as it's a trusted man bringing them in.

"Sorry..."

>[] "I've got business to attend to. Maybe later?"
>[] "I can't, but I'd love it if you could come with me."
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32061909
[x] I can't, but I'd love it if you could come with me.
Now can we hold hands?[/spoilers] If she says she'll come, anyways. Where are we going today, again? A tournament?
>>
>>32061909
>[x] "I can't, but I'd love it if you could come with me."
>>
>>32062004
>>32062159
"Sorry, I can't, but I'd love it if you could come with me."

The class president looks aside for a second in contemplation.

"Hmm... Alright! I don't have anything to do today, so..."

"Great!" You grab her hand and start off towards the park entrance at a brisk pace.

"D-Dari, that's lew-"

"I can't hear you, you're too slow! Must be the Doppler effect!"
[1/3] The other parts will be faster!
>>
>>32062376
The lab isn't all that far away. Just some minutes, in fact. It is enviably close to the city center, but located below ground rather than above.

Considering the nature of the Huxley's experiments, that may actually be for the best. If those results ever saw the light of day...

The both of you walk to the lab in silence. Shanoa has tucked the flower behind her ear, interweaving it with her hair through some girlish trick. At the entrance, two bodyguards, large men in suits, stop you. This hasn't happened before.

"What's the matter?" You ask, irritated.

"The girl. Is she ill?"

You turn to look at Shanoa. She's red as a beet. From the looks of it, it might really be a fever.

"H-hey! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She smiles faintly. "Were we going somewhere?"

"Ah, right."

You turn back to the guards. "She's fine. There's no problem."

Neither of them moves as the two of you walk past them.

You move through the labyrinthine lobby and take the elevator down to the 3rd basement floor.
[2/3]
>>
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>>32062517
At B3F, some labcoat-wearing woman guides the two of you through the facility. Eventually, you pass through a large portal door with a retina lock. Prof. Huxley and Orlov greet you.

"Well, if it isn't our partner." The good professor says calmly.

"And he's got a friend this time, too. May I know your name?" Orlov asks.

Your friend rises to the occasion. "Shanoa. Pleased to meet you," she says proudly. Looks like that leader instinct kicked in.

"Well then, Shanoa, allow me to give you a tour. This is your first time, yes?"

"Ah, yes. That's right."

"Then let us go on ahead. The professor and Darius have matters they need to discuss." The two of them go on ahead. Shanoa turns to give you a worried look, but you give her a thumbs up and a smile. You and Huxley begin to move after them, keeping a constant distance.

"Got anything new for me?" You ask.

These men, it should be noted, are people you trust with your life. Well, there are other people you would trust, but none of them could erase you from history with a single phone call like these two. They also desperately need you. That's because they're...

>[] Your co-conspirators. If not for them, you'd have struggled to win more than just your first IRO tournament.
>[] Your "angels." You cooperate with them on their "science" and get plenty of cash for it.
>[] Your R&D department. Their unsanctioned forays into unexplored fields are highly intriguing.
>>
>>32062846
>[] Your "angels." You cooperate with them on their "science" and get plenty of cash for it.
>>
>>32062846
>>[] Your R&D department. Their unsanctioned forays into unexplored fields are highly intriguing.
>>
>>32062846
>[] Your R&D department. Their unsanctioned forays into unexplored fields are highly intriguing.
>>
>>32062937
>>32063285
>>32063361
Votes accepted, please await with warm temperature.
>>
>>32062937
>>32063285
>>32063361
These two men write reports no sane man would put his name on. Technically, they don't, either. But whereas most men of science only dream of doing these experiments, you three actually bring them to life.

Professor Huxley does the science side of things. He knows what to do and how to do it. Well, you all voice your interests regarding what is to be done, but Huxley can just naysay whatever he so chooses with scientific mumbo-jumbo. But all that science requires equipment...

Andrey Yurievich Orlov is an ex-intelligence officer. He provides the connections. Sometimes, you three need equipment. Sometimes, you need staff. Sometimes, you need someone to look away. However, favors don't always come cheap...

Darius D. Duravi, that is, you, are the provider. You participate in every Imperial Remote Operations event you possibly can, no matter how risky. The overwhelming majority of all your earnings to straight to this here lab. Both Orlov and Huxley are powerless without proper resources: their roles are simply to make use of what you provide.

How you all came together is a story for another time.

The professor speaks. "Do you remember that girl we brought in a few days ago?"

"Oh, that Filipino girl? What did you do with her?"

"Take a look-see."

You both come up to a chamber with large square windows. Unlike the rest of the facility, its walls are a bleached white. The girl inside looks straight at you.

"Watch this." Huxley takes out his phone and, uh... dials? some sort of number.

As soon as it "goes through," a hole in the wall opposite the window opens and a little robot skitters out. It positions itself in front of the puzzled girl. The robot voices a pre-recorded command to stand up and straighten out. She complies.

It fires an AP round through her heart.
[1/2]
>>
>>32064775
You wince a little. You look to the side, but thankfully, Orlov has already lead Shanoa away, to the next chamber. You're not sure what he's telling her, but he's an expert at misinformation. In other words, whatever he's saying, he definitely isn't lying. Per se.

The Filipino girl stares at her new orifice. She raises a shaking hand to it, but then falls on her back, slumping against the wall behind her.

"That's rather... tasteless, Professor."

"This isn't actually the same girl, Daravir. For ethical reasons-" You give a dry chuckle. "-we had to use her replicant."

"Her clone?"

"In layman's terms, yes. Though not quite. Just keep watching."

The girl's fingers twitch slightly and her eyes open wide. They're bright, glowing red. Her back arches and she raises her arm, extending it to the ceiling, pointing at something with one finger. Is she hallucinating? Eventually, she lowers it. The place where you once saw a clean hole 10 centimeters in diameter (isn't that a bit small for an AP round to human flesh?) there's just some discolored skin.

"Fuckin' magic." You conclude.

"Just Clarke's third law. What do you think?"

>[] "Pretty fucking great. When can I get that same mod?"
>[] "Looks suspicious. What's the catch?"
>[] "Ehhhh. Looks like you wasted a lot of time on this."
>>
>>32065030
>[] "Looks suspicious. What's the catch?"
Everything has a catch
>>
>>32065073
2nding
>>
>>32065543
>I didn't have to samefag it
thank you anon
>>
>>32065559
To samefag is to fagfag. Samefag not.
>>
>>32065073
>>32065543

"That looks fucking sick, prof." You grin at him.

"My work is finally bearing fruit, after all."

You give him a colder stare. "Now spill it: what's the catch? Where's the devil in the details?"

He sighs a tired sigh. Yours is a question he expected. That's just natural, though. After the first time you jabbed him with "how many babies did you skin for this?", he's come to expect your prying. Deep at heart, he just wants to impress. The man's a dreamer.

"Here's your answer." He dials a new number.

An albino hare exits from another hole in the same wall as before. However, he doesn't make it even halfway out of his entrance before the girl grabs him out of the air mid-lead. And rips him apart. She twists the head off like a cork out of a bottle of wine, first and foremost. Then she just quarters him limb from limb and voraciously consumes him on the spot. Every last bit. Even the paws. Even the organs, to the last, though you know that a number of them should be extremely bitter.

Maybe she doesn't feel the taste. She just swallows entire parts with no regard for chewing. She doesn't eat the mammal, she utterly consumes him. Following that meal, she clutches her stomach, bending over slightly. She's finally ful-

BAM!

You flinch back from the window. That girl, she just assaulted the window. She stares at you with hungry eyes, gripping the transparent surface.

"Uh. Should I ask?" You inquire meekly.

"I would rather you did."

>[] Custom.
>>
>>32065956
>[X] "Exactly why the fuck has this woman turned into a cannibal heathen?"
>>
>>32066269
Ima second this
>>
>>32066269
>>32066958
Writing.
>>
>>32066269
>>32066958

"Exactly why the FUCK has this woman turned into a cannibal heathen?" This nugget comes from the very soul.

"Unfortunately, regenerating a destroyed heart before irreversible chemical changes begin to occur in the brain is very..." The man pauses for a second. "Energy-intensive, shall we say?"

"What."

"That woman over there has just expended a rather extreme amount of protein and defied a few medical theorems to survive. If her primal instincts weren't firing on all cylinders right now, she would likely be writhing in agony from the blast or scratching out her new heart due to the rapid growth."

"Speaking of regeneration," you take a breath, watching as the girl continues to bang on the window with frightening force. "Aren't there nerve endings and all that? How do you grow a heart back and have it remain autonomous?"

"You don't, unfortunately. If left to live in society as is, she would be lucky to live another 30 years. That is, if her aging processes continued as per normal. If you were to examine her physiology, anatomy and somatic cell genetic makeup, you would have to admit: she's isn't really human anymore. Not even her nervous system matches up to yours or mine. I didn't just rearrange the blocks, I changed the way they interlock at a basic level. Well, putting stem cells everywhere and transforming the nervous system were probably the most important parts."

You pay attention out of morbid curiosity more than anything else.

"So how do you deal with... that?" You point at the girl.

"Feed her cattle, swine. Maybe humans. Those would expedite the healing process greatly."

"...I'm gonna regret this, but what do you call this thing, whatever it is?"

"Daywalkers. The resemblance is striking, don't you agree?"

"Oh yeah. Downright uncanny."

When you finally leave the window alone, you see a considerable pool of blood at the girl's feet, sitting cross-legged on the ground. She has a mischievous grin and a content expression.
[1/2]
>>
>>32068122
You move past a number of chambers and come up to another. Orlov and Shanoa move away as you approach. Shanoa seems to be captivated by what she's hearing.

"This is a bit more mundane, but also more practical." Huxley says.

You look inside. Inside, a woman stands. She looks oddly familiar, but not like anyone you've seen before. Especially the face.

"This right here is your replicant."

"Mine? But that's a wom-"

"Exactly. That's why I said it's practical. People will pay stupidly large amounts of money for female versions of themselves. Their 'genderflips' to do with as they please."

"...Can I talk to mine?"

"Of course. I told her you'd be coming." Huxley hands you a pistol. Small, four barrels. They call this one "The Horseman." Superb stopping power, but overkill for any situation in which it might be useful. "She has no combat training, but stay at 3 meters distance."

"Alright," you say. "Does she have a name?"

"Of course," Huxley assures you. "Number thirteen forty five."

The professor dials a number and the doors open. You make sure the safety's on and tuck it away so the woman won't see. You proceed into the room.

As you enter, she examines you with a hard glare and remains steadfastly silent.

"I guess you've got questions," you say. "Want me to answer a few?"

"Why are you humoring me? All I want to know is how you intend to dispose of me."

You sigh. She's sharp.

"Well, if you have to know, it's largely to see what you're like. How you're going to reac-"

"No, what you want to see is how I react as compared to the rest. What happened to them, huh?" Her voice is stained with panic.

You decide to push.

"Look, you're going to die. If you cooperate, I'll put in a good word for you. The professor has no real reason to kill you instead of another... one. So why don't you just ask me what you want to?"

"Just... tell me what you like." She gives you a defeatist's smile. "I haven't really talked with anyone yet. Ever."
>>
>>32068539
>[] Tell her about history.
>[] Tell her about yourself.
>[] Tell her about this place.
>>
>>32068539
>[] Tell her about yourself.
>>
>>32068668
This, its what she asked for, sorta
>>
>>32068668
Be friendly about it tho
>>
>>32068570
>>[X] Tell her about this place.
At least give her a reason for being. Even if it's a shit one.
>>
>>32068668
This. Be cordial.
>>
>>32068668
>>32068720
>>32068841


"To start with... You're basically me. They've told you that much, right?"

"Yes." The woman looks mildly upset, but you can't ascertain if it's because of what you said or not.

"Have they shown you a mirror?"

"A couple of times."

"That's no good," you say, taking out your phone. "Why don't you smile for me?"

"Huh? Alright." She tries to muster a grin, but it looks more than a little forced. You take a picture anyway.

"Take a look at this." You show her the photo you just took.

"Oh geez," she laughs. "Can I get a do-over?"

"Nnnope. No backsies, now."

"Come on!" She smiles a sincere smile.

"Alright, alright. But only because you asked nicely!"

Some minutes pass as you while time away. Eventually, you get back to the original topic.

"I suppose you'd like to know about this whole place and how the two of us tie into it, right?"

"Well, that too."

"Ha ha. I'm not great at guessing, so you'll have to put up with me," you say, the two of you sitting next to each other, propped against a wall.

Truth be told, you're dying to know what she felt over the course of her none-too-lengthy life prior to meeting you, but it'd be selfish to take from someone that has nothing as is. Instead, you start recounting old times.

"A long, long time ago, in a place far, far away..." You pretend to make scary face at her. "There lived a very bright scientist. He was young and he was ambitious. But alas! One day he was betrayed by his closest friend. That friend took from him everything, which he took for himself." You can feel Huxley giving you the death glare. "He spent a very long time trying to get back what he once lost. However, he knew he couldn't do it alone. So he recruited the help of..."

You do some jazz hands. When the woman listening to you finally realizes she's supposed to say something, she voices: "Um, his brother?"

"Yes!" You give her a flourish. "Except no. The one he turned to for help was a very dangerous man."
[1/3]
>>
>>32069157
"However, this man was also very intelligent. He knew that his time was growing short, and so abandoned his past life. All of it. He collaborated with the scientist, this agent, and together, they managed to slay many a foe, overcome many an obstacle." You say this last part with extra emphasis. "And yet," you say disappointedly, "they were eventually stopped Their luck had run out, their funds had dipped into the red. But that's when they met..." You point your thumbs at yourself.

"You?"

"That's right! That's when they met the fighter. The fighter, you see, had also recently lost a lot of stuff. Only a year or two ago, he had to move and leave everything behind. Everything that wasn't burned down, that is."

"Was there some sort of fire?" The woman asks an obvious question.

"Yes. A terrible fire that took away only a few lives, but they were the most important ones. And when they died, the blame fell on the fighter. Even though it made no ACTUAL sense to blame him-"

"I-I get it."

"RIght. So the scientist and the agent met the fighter. They quickly found that they had a lot in common and their interests also matched. It seemed like a good idea at the time, so they started to work together on all sorts of stuff. Things nobody else had the courage to try!" You point at the woman in front of you. "They created new people. Better people. People who could be trusted, relied upon, depended upon. Each of these people was Atlas incarnate."

"Atlas?"

"That's right. Their whole project, 'Atlas,' set out to try out ideas and test them in the hopes of striking a balance. Maybe, they thought, they could make a person so perfect that the rest of mankind would just be obsolete! Alas, the odds were against them. They fought against the world, in the shadows, but were forced to retreat. So now they continue their work in secret, and bide their time..."

"For what?"

"For the stars to align! But first, it is necessary to learn from past mistakes. You are a lesson."
>>
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>>32069435
"That's how it goes." You conclude. "Anything you didn't get?"

She gives you a wry smile. "No, I think I got it all."

"Good. Well, it's time for me to be going now. Anything else?" You ask.

"Yeah... Can you tell me my name?" Her eyes glisten.

"Sure. It's Darida. Darida Duravi."

You turn away and walk out the door. Before you close it, you see Darida waving at you. You wave back.

You and professor Huxley resume your walk down the hallway.

"Do it in her sleep," you tell him.

Huxley eyes your face carefully.

"I'm not fucking around. Don't break my balls on this one," you threaten.

"Fine. Tonight?"

"No. Give her a week." You pause. "Can you..?"

"Don't be ridiculous. She'd get searched not an hour after release. If they run a gene check and you come up, what are they gonna think?"

"You're right. Just give her some time. You can show some mercy to the first one, at least."

Huxley just grunts in response.


Finally meet back up with Orlov and Shanoa. The latter voices her opinion first.

"Dari! You didn't tell me this lab of yours was such an interesting place! Why didn't you show me sooner?"

"Well," you think of how to go around this. "It's not like I've been hiding it from you."

"Oh, whatever. I really do need to run now - I'm late. See you later! It's been fun!" And just like that, Shanoa runs off.

You turn to Orlov.

"What did you tell her?"

"All she asked about and a few white lies. She was very inquisitive. Kept asking about you."

"That's good," you sigh in relief. "That means you didn't tell her anything." Fortunately for you, your personal involvement in this while mess is very limited.

"What about you?" It's his turn to be questioned on the matter. "Do you have any news? How're the 'phones'?"

"On their way. We'll have to put the replication on hold until they arrive, however." Orlov turns to Huxley. "Make do with what you have now."

"How long are the funds going to last us?" You ask.
>>
>>32069852

"Two weeks, maybe three." Orlov answers. "It's open season for you, though, isn't it?"

"Sure is." You check your watch. "Speaking of which, gotta run."

You stuff the gun in Huxley's lab coat pocket and head for the portal door.

>[] Go straight to the Asad Babil Cup.
>[] Make a detour, meet up with the Cup's Overseer first.
>>
>>32069914
>[] Make a detour, meet up with the Cup's Overseer first.
I don't like the scientists anymore
>>
>>32069852
It might just be my dyslexia, but are they talking about ecxuting the Filipino girl or the clone girl for the "Give her a week"?
>>
>>32069914
>[] Make a detour, meet up with the Cup's Overseer first.
>>32069970
I know, I just want to have a clone twin to hang out with but nooo, they just gotta execute her
>>
>>32070083
The clone girl. A lot can happen in a week, can't it?

Devil Survivor happened in a week.

>>32069970
>>32070115
I have to take a break for an hour, I'm fucking winded. Please have faith. I will deliver.
>>
So we're totally stealing the clone girl right?
>>
>>32070231
Make liberal use of the custom option or I'll show you how she dies.
>>
>>32070323
time to betray the scientists
>>
>>32070323
Welp now I have an actual goal, its time to operate.
>>
>>32070460
Betrayal should be a last resort
>>
>>32070323
I go to sleep, man, and this is what you pull? Damn man. All I wanted was a nice operatan quest. Oh well, the show must go on, and I'll stick around.
>>
>>32069970
>>32070115
Writing.
>>
>>32071569
Don't die on us op.
>>
>>32071397
Glad to have you on board.

>>32069970
>>32070115

You exit the structure that houses your base of operations. Even if only in its basement floors. You jog to the nearest bus stop and wait for the right one to come by.

The sun is high in the air, even though it's still early morning. The air is cold and damp in the shade, but lukewarm under the sun. You enjoy the breeze on your face as you lean against one of the bus stop's panels.

Eventually, the bus you've been waiting for appears. After it passes a few stops, you call for the driver to stop the vehicle and proceed to get off. It's a straight walk from here to the Cup's site, about 15 minutes' time. However, you're on business today.

You walk down some streets you previously memorized from a map. As you turn corners, you realize that you could've shaved off a lot of distance, but decide to adhere to the original plan. You can get lost in three trees as a human, but can navigate the seven seas as an Operator. Funny how that works out.

Eventually, you come up to a thoroughly decorated apartment complex. It's pretty luxurious - there's windows on the very first story, and from what you can tell, each floor is ascribed to only one owner.

The Overseer for the Asad Babil Cup leisurely walks out of the building. A rather skinny man in his mid-thirties approaches you, looking nothing like a potential victim of the dreaded midlife crisis.

"If it isn't Darius!" Every fucking word oozes opulence like mead. Mead laced with poison. "What a surprise to see you here!"

You're good at reading faces, though. You know, for example, that his heart jolted a little when he recognized your face. You also know that he suspects you of working for Black Wing - the executive branch of the Federal Intelligence & Safety Agency. His fear gives you the energy you need to smile.

"Hey there, Harris! Didn't expect to see me here, huh?"

He's sweating like a pig now. Good.
[1/X]
>>
>>32072417
Somehow I imagine this Overseer to be Matthew McConaughey as he appeared in Dallas Buyer's Club.
>>
>>32072417

"Well, you sure are early! I thought I'd meet just outside the Dome."

"No chance, Harris Zahoor." You put extra oomph into the name just to watch him squirm. "We're gonna have a real nice chat, right now."

"Ahaha, is that so? Alright then," he wrings his hands a few times. "Let's get down to business. We can talk in my car."

You both seat yourselves in his hovercraft coupe. Fuckin' bourgeoisie.

On the way to the Dome, you discuss how you're going to be instructing the rookies. Harris is supposed to be doing it, but he has no experience as an Operator and a lot of cash drop into the lap of whoever does. As always, you don't pass up a chance to make money out of fucking nothing. You can tell the little greenhorns ten times the info Overseers get out of their manuals and still crush them all five fucking ways to Friday.

You do get there, eventually. The two of you get out of the car and make your way through the innards of the Dome that will be hosting this Cup.

You glance at Harris. He catches your gaze, but keeps walking.

"Hey," you call out. "The Bureau's ten minutes by foot from here and they've got a hefty bounty for corruption cases. I think you should give me your 'argument' right now before I decide you bailed on me."

He fidgets uneasily. You're in the middle of an empty parking lot. If you wanted to, you could've done this next to or even in the car. But there's no fun in that.

"Ain't got all fucking day. They keep substitutes on hand for cases like this, you know?"

The guy breaks. He hastily takes out an envelope out of his goddamn fanny pack and continues on, wordlessly.

It's neat and lacks any sort of sealing. You follow Harris, thumbing through the banknotes. 30 thou, as promised. Guy wanted to scam you post-factum, you're still certain of that. Now that you got your fat wad of cash, it's time to decide how you're going to present your lecture to 300 people.

>[] Brash and impulsive.
>[] Methodical and concise.
>[] Custom.
>>
>>32073015
>[] Brash and impulsive.
Yeah, that one
>>
>>32073015
>[x]Methodical and concise.
Keep it nice and cool. Their faces when we wipe the floor with them later.
>>
Rolled 1

>>32073107
>>32073204
Looks like nobody else wants to vote.

1=Brash and impulsive
2=Methodical and concise
>>
>>32073642
>>[x] Methodical and concise.
>>
>>32073642
You enter the lecture hall, an area designed and designated for giving presentation of all sorts. It's half an amphitheatre, to be concise.

The door slams against a nearby wall as you apply undue force to open it. Show time.

"Alright, what the fuck's up?!" You bellow from the center. The chatter that had been filling the room mere seconds prior is nowhere to be heard. You look around at the participants, a serious expression on your face.

"Does a single one of you know where you are?!" Your voice booms once more. Still, only silence.

"My name is Harris Zahoor, and you better remember it! Right now, we're going to go over the tactics and equipment you'll be using! Those of you too fucking educated to take some advice from a veteran can kindly fuck right off! The door's that way and I ain't holding anyone hostage. Any takers?"

Somebody coughs quietly.

"That's great. That's just dandy! Because that means if I catch any one of you yammering on about your own, trite BULLSHIT, I can walk up to you and drag you out of here with my own two hands. Don't you even fucking doubt me!"

You take a pause.

"So, without further ado! This is the Imperial Remote Operations tournament! To be precise, this is the Municipal Stage! As all of you are at least decent at piloting six robots at a time, so you're here today to keep doing it! For the glory of the Empire!" This last one gets you a few gruff, male-originated cheers.

"Yeah, that's the spirit! I like you guys! You'll get farther than the hipsters in their bottlecap glasses! Too bad you also won't get very far. See, there are three kinds of people on the battlefield: the Hunters, the Heroes and the Survivors." You begin to pace across your podium.

"The Survivors have high performance whenever they're in danger! Their EFFICACY correlates with how threatened they are!"

"The Heroes have low performance! You push them and you push them and they break. Then they kill everyone! Fuckin' heroes!"
[1/2]
>>
>>32073988
"Lastly, the Hunters! The Hunters always have high performance! Always! Don't you forget that! If it's moving and there's no reason not to, a Hunter will kill it! Sometimes, even when there IS a reason not to! You know why? Because Hunters are animals! And 85% of everyone here is a goddamn Hunter! You wouldn't be here otherwise."

You take a sip out of the bottle of water you took with you. You clear your throat.

Next, you'll tell them about...

>[] How to use the classes.
>[] Which tactics are their bread and butter.
>[] The shit nobody ever tells them.
>>
>>32074062
>How to use the classes
I love me some noobs endlessly fiddling around with classes.
>>
>>32074062
>The shit nobody ever tells them

We'll have to think of something else to call it after this.
>>
>>32074062
>[] The shit nobody ever tells them.
>>
>>32070323
I just woke up and fuck these guys if they think they can off our clone twin, we're adding her to the harem, it ain't incest, its masturbation

>[] Which tactics are their bread and butter.
lets not give them an advantage they can use against us, we will be fighting against them

also

MOOT FIX YA SHIT
>>
>>32074481
>>32074580
>>32074786
>>32077376
Looks like SEKRITZ wins by one vote.

Writing.
>>
>>32074481
>>32074580
>>32074786
>>32077376

"I take it the lot of you know enough about the classes to carry your weight. That just leaves all the shit you DON'T know." You eye the audience carefully.

"For one, the center of any given battlefield is full to brimming with non-standard weapons. If you think you can make it, you should rush to the epicenter. You can drop your gun and use the new one exclusively, but keep in mind that the guns you pick up are highly specialized." You realize that you've been speaking at a normal volume for a while now. "If you're not sure how they work, don't lug them around. Break them over your knee or something. Be smart about this shit."

"What's more, every structure has a weak point. I'm not saying this in the metaphorical, abstract sense - I mean it literally. If you circle around a building, you'll find a chipped corner, a well-hidden charge - something that you can blast with a rocket and bring the whole thing tumbling down. So don't hole up unless you've got the first floor rigged and every piece is ready to bail. Don't storm any garrisons, either, unless you've got it surrounded and scoped out. You're much better off blasting it with as little as a single rocket. Failing that, a grenade will do the trick. Just don't think your guns are all you need."

"Finally, if you ever find some sort of passage underground, you should send everyone you've got there. You'll find some interesting..." You try to think of the right word. "Toys. It's for the best if you practice your piloting beforehand. No time for that now."

"Well," you try to bring this to a close. "Does anyone have any questions?"

>[] Custom.
>>
>>32078451
Example of non standard weapon?
>>
>>32078451
>[x]Custom
Give technically correct info on strategies that you can counter with your eyes closed. Hype them up a bit.
>>
>>32078504
Anything your pieces don't start out with. A shotgun, a grenade launcher, a triple-shot RPG.
>>
>>32078451
seconding >>32078533

maybe withhold a few truths that we can take advantage of it we face them
>>
>>32078533
.>>32078611
I like the way you think.
>>
>>32078620
Art thou alive OP?
>>
>>32079193
one can hope anon
>>
>>32079193
Operators don't die, they just take breaks.

I'm whipping up a lot of tactical bullshit, it's hard.
>>
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>>32078533
>>32078611

"Now, before you put your plugs to use, let's have a quick run-down of what you need to know. Everyone here should know about the basic class division. Let's take a look at the particulars and practical applications."

You turn around to face the wall and manipulate a panel of buttons on it. The lights dim and a screen appears on the wall. A satellite photo of an uninhabited city appears. You take a stylus out of the panel and begin scribbling Xs and arrows, circling as necessary.

"Assaults are what you use by default. No matter the situation. They engage at any distance, but as it just so happens, they are the superior strategic choice for urban combat. It's easy to see why, isn't it? They're a great combination of armor and speed. They're tied with Engies for second highest speed, just behind Supports in terms of armor and only slightly behind Recons in turning speed. Altogether, they're the best. Their rifles are accurate and can provide suppressive fire in a pinch. They even have flashbangs."

You turn around and glare at the participants out of the corner of your eye.

"Let's start with the basics: the 'pincer maneuver'. One or two Assaults on each side approach in an arc and flank the enemy. The absolute worst case scenario? You lose all the Assaults on one side. However, you also get to annihilate anything caught in the crossfire, so make good use of this method. Next up is the 'chevron'. This, unlike the pincer, is effective on garrisons. The idea is to get one Assault to barge in and unload straight ahead in a narrow arc. You'll have all of two seconds or less to drop a hostile, but if you don't forget to set the firing mode to full auto, you can't fuck this up. After that, pieces to the side will open fire. That's when the other two follow and drop everyone targeting the main assault."

You take a deep breath.

"Finally, the famed 'sweep'. Engage the enemy from every possible direction at once. Nice and simple."
[1/X]
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>>32079556
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gehAOV4SUkU

"Moving on to the Supports." The map you drew all over is split down the middle by a line - one half is replaced by forested terrain. "Supports are your only real choice when facing heavy fire."

"These guys are heavily armored and heavily armed. They're great for any sort of close combat - even Berserkers have issues with them." You hold back a derisive laugh and instead turn to face your listeners again. "So if in doubt, send in a Support. They're bipedal tanks and they chew up infantry. Try to make sure the head doesn't stick out all willy-nilly, though. Those heads aren't armored well enough to take 3 rounds and function."

"Tactics for Supports are limited. Their offensive potential is almost nothing, as their weapons are designed to lay down suppressive fire and their movement speed is unremarkable. However, they're obviously great for defense. One that comes to mind is the 'gunwall'. Two or more Supports move up on an enemy position while firing on full auto. Another, rather simple tactic is 'suppression'." You sigh. "I know this feels very patronizing, but I do have to explain it. Firing on an enemy position to allow other, more vulnerable pieces to move up remains effective to this day. Finally, though this isn't really a 'tactic,' you should mine doorways and windowsills whenever applicable. It helps prevent escape from a garrison you're about to smoke."

"Engineers are basically Assaults, so let's finish up by talking about Recons."
[2/4] These next few are going to be faster.
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>>32079916

"Recons are very valuable pieces. They're swift and lethal. Unfortunately, they have literally no armor but the skin on their backs and are completely incapacitated by flashbangs. Most any sort of electronic warfare, too. Due to this, you should seek to keep them in the back, out of harm's way."

You take another sip of water.

"These guys always stay at range. They have enough zoom in their visual sensors to let you pick off targets at 5 kilometers. The speed is so high to accommodate strafing the epicenter of battle. Get a better angle without approaching and putting yourself at risk, yeah?" You glance at your watch. Time's gonna be running short soon. "Tactic one: 'camping'. If you lie down and wait for a target to come by, you can get a free kill without hassle. Tactic two: 'scouting'. It takes some skill, but covering large distances by moving from roof to roof, from tree to tree, can reveal a large amount of info. Finally, tactic three: 'blaze'. Starting with this stage, Recons get semi-automatic rifles by default. Nobody has anything better. If you have to engage at close distance, a body shot or two can drop most hostiles. If you're lacking in ideas, don't run away. Fight."

You think for a bit.

"Ah, right! Squad tactics."
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>>32080157

"The general idea is simple: Assaults and Engies attack, Supports and Recons cover."

Holy shit, you haven't spread this much lies and misinformation in years.

"The tried and true formulas are there to rely on. You don't need to make mistakes on your own to know that you're fucking up. Stick to the program and let the battle sort you out. Faster, better, stronger. That's who's going to win. And one last thing," you say. Might as well give some actual advice. "Loot bodies. At the very least, there'll be a couple of grenades you can use. A few of those can demolish walls and trees, so don't be shy."

It's true, though. It's not like the explosion will give you away when the rat-a-tat-tat won't.

"All this having been said, I hope you all do your best. Don't hold back, no matter what. And don't," you point to your right shoulder, "look here. There's a unique insignia here, everyone gets their own. Don't let it distract you."

You head out the door, satisfied. Harris takes you to a separate room, away from the rest. It's the same bed, with the same IV and the same entry plug on the pillow. You lie down and close your eyes.

The truth of the battle is that unexpected decisions and movements can make or break a plan. Yourself, you've seen firsthand how horrifyingly destructive a Recon squad can be. Those rifles can drop virtually anyone with just two shots. One can disable any limb and cause severe bleeding. With some luck, a Recon at mid-range can headshot you before you put you can even take aim. A Recon on the attack is a disaster waiting to happen.

Assaults really are the best pieces, no contest. If you've got the skill. You need to take every advantage there is, or you'll be outclassed every time. Can't play by others' rules. Assaults are reflexive by nature.

Supports are hard to use wrong, but they're easy to incapacitate. The joints are vulnerable to direct hits. Engineers are just a painted target. Their quivers explode violently.

This'll be great.
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>>32080294
Thread over for today. Next thread, we'll start with a little point-buy customization and proceed to OPERATE. Then some more point buy upgrades. Keep your sights on Thursday!

Anything you'd like to ask?
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>>32080331
Thanks for the thread OP, I got no questions now other than how do we break our twin out to join our harem
>>
>>32080367
That's for you to find out. Just keep in mind that none of the options I give you myself will lead to saving her.
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>>32080398
>spolier
:<
>>
>>32080398
Sasuga OOQ. The clone did nothing wrong.
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>>32080417
But there wouldn't be a challenge otherwise, right?
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>>32080398
Is the harem route really locked in or could we change that eventually?
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>>32080416 here again

>>32080398
that just means every time you give us options we're going to be running around like headless chicken fucking things up trying to do random things that are not the offered options, which is just going to foster so much paranoia it becomes destructive to the players and the quest, not exactly great QM'ing...

>>32080436
theres being a challenge, and then theres just being obtusely stupid for no reason, it should be that we have to find and work towards the correct path to rescue her instead of just outright antagonizing us by not including the option in whats given, there ain't enough players in this quest to make that viable, something as big as Shadow Quest struggles with that "I ain't gonna give you the correct option" bullshit and it has shitlaods of players, this? it does not, and that is just going to work against us actually enjoying this...
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>>32080442
The only thing you guys voted for unanimously was becoming generalissimo. One guy even suggested HAIL HOUSE DURAVI.

Harem is on the table, but you're free to do as you like.
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>>32080476
Oh, I see. I'm not trying to actively antagonize you, really. You won't have to resort to lolrandumb just to find a way out, I can promise you that much.

It's just a matter of showing initiative rather than selecting from what you're "allowed" to do. I'll think about how to do the choices thing better.
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>>32080476
Can you save your buttblastedness for after the Quest runs itself into the ground, assuming you can see the future?
>>
>>32080525
With the way you worded it, I was imagining people at every chance options are presented making terrible custom ones derailing shit just to avoid using the pro-offered options, I'm glad its not that random and you've put some thought into making it achievable.
>>
Going to archive this thread OP?
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>>32080618
Already archived, courtesy of a kind anon.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Operator+Operator+Quest



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