[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Settings   Home
/tg/ - Traditional Games

>Previous threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=Brouzouf

>Wikia for in-universe knowledge: http://eyedivinecybermancy.wikia.com/wiki/E.Y.E:_Divine_Cybermancy_Wiki
>You have a Rotten Mound (3 clips), Mei-Zhen has Grandpappy Khil's Damocles
>Jonny is simulating uncomfortable silence in front of you
>You have a forbidden book of thaumaturgy for dummies, Croon Sidetech plate in your room
>You're too mentally busted to think about Brouzouf. That busted.
>Karma: 1/???
>You have been tagged with a Federal tracking bracer.
>Known Psi powers: Alchemy, Polycloning, Madness
>You are experiencing transplanar sight.

You're presently admiring what appears to be an empty throne room of some sort. Yet for all the intricate carvings decorating the pillars flanking the room's sides, for all the suggestion of transcendence given by the crack in the wall from which a cone of light shines upon the throne room, one thing is amiss: the throne isn't a throne, so much as a casket with a strange carving on the lid. You're sure you've seen it somewhere before.

Focusing is of no avail, as Jonny's servos whir, bringing your senses back to more immediate concerns.

"What's with the long face?" He seems awfully grim for some reason. Not that you can actually tell for sure. He 'looked grim' when he was an alarm clock too.

"You called him junk." Mei-Zhen replies in his stead. Hm, you suppose your words might've been interpreted in that way. Wouldn't be the first time your tongue got you in trouble after all. Oh well! No point in crying over spilled milk.

What were you going to do again..?

>Attempt to leave before your brain melts
>Explore the area.
>Something else
"Sorry, pal, I'm not thinking straight.

Is it okay if I just lie down? I think my head is about to explode.
Do we even have food?"
>Attempt to leave before your brain melts
and seconding >>34083733
>"Sorry, pal, I'm not thinking straight.

lets GTFO and rest up before we keep doing stupid things

also its midnight here so I'm heading to bed, good luck all and curse my shitty timezone
OP probably drank himself to death.
A moment of clarity makes you realize that calling your loyal scrab a "piece of junk", even if unintentionally (for the most part), would probably trigger whatever offense-taking protocols he might have. It brings back with it an ever-growing headache. This is going to be a hell of a hangover..

"Sorry, pal. I'm a bit shaken up."

"Did you utilize your Psi abilities recklessly?"

"Yeah. I need to sit down for a bit.. Neither of you have some food, do you?" You suspect you'd just vomit it all out, but your exertions and recent dislodging of stomach contents are joining the list of unpleasant consequences catching up.

"I don't think those mushrooms are edible..." Mei-Zhen studies the large fungi growing in a damp corner. Something in her tone suggests her own sanity might be slipping away as well. It's time to get out of here before none of you return to the surface.

"Another lean day then." You force yourself back to your feet. The entities, whose appearance is beginning to fade away in your sight, appear to avoid you. Perhaps you're beginning to fade out yourself? "Jonny, stay close to me."

"Understood, Master." The scrab hovers close, giving the bird creatures a wide berth. You stumble along, attempting to backtrack to the exit. It is a harder proposition than you might've thought. Whereas recently you were seeing things that weren't there, now you're having trouble focusing in what is. [cont]
>Something in her tone suggests her own sanity might be slipping away as well. It's time to get out of here before none of you return to the surface.
It might be a good idea to give her basic PSY training for self-defense purposes.
>I don't consume alcohol, no fear!

You find yourself holding on to the walls as you strive to keep some semblance of balance. Hard to do when your sight blacks out every other step of the way. Every fiber of your being seems to be in revolt against you, the abusive consciousness pushing it to its limits and way beyond what is healty...

>Roll 1d100 to push yourself further
Rolled 87

Try alchemy on nearby objects.
>Try alchemy on nearby objects.
Do you REALLY want to do more Psi-ing?
Rolled 91

I think it's in character. "Maybe I can remove that headache like that..."
It's not wise on a meta level, though.
You could've prevented what is to come... at least you rolled high.

Capitalizing on the presence of a furnish torn, but structurally sound chair discarded nearby, you take a seat to pace yourself. Slow and steady wins the race, said every one who never had to sprint. Good for you, you're not in any hurry to sprint right now, as as far as you know no need to. Allowing yourself a moment to recover, you get back on your feet, the revolution going on in your body toning down to a mere riot. "Master, that's where we came from." Good old Jonny, ever the useful scrab. What would you do without its morning calls...

Whomever proffered their dubious wisdom regarding racing strategies had a point. Keeping your own pace slow is helping your body cope with the stress you've put it through, and although you're constantly fighting off the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, you're reasonably sure you can make it out if only you don't do something stu-

Your train of thought derails as you spot a discarded hot dog bag that reminds you of how very starved you are. Not starved to the point you'll eat that thing, obviously, but perhaps... Perhaps you'd gain a bit of strength if you just used your ability to mutate and absorb matter into yourself. You trip yourself towards it and lean on your rifle as you cast the Octagon of Assimilation.

Its white flashing form lingers on your sight for a long while, just as everything else blacks out. [cont]
You awaken in a medical bay of some sort, a female watching over you like a tired mother would a naughty child. The granite walls decorated with small gargoyles reminiscent of the tunnel beasts stand at odds with the advanced, almost alien cogitators presumably monitoring your vitals. At least that's what you think they're for, as your body is surprisingly and mercifully free of any appendages connecting it to the medical station.

"You've done it again haven't you?" The woman speaks. You're vaguely aware of having seen similar women, in white revealing outfits. This one, however, is clad in a considerably more chaste dress. And isn't waving a gun at you blindly, her green eyes bearing something definitely unearthly in both an aesthetic and surreal sense.

"You have to learn patience if this plan of yours is going to succeed. It's interesting to watch the things you come up with, but you're still weak. Take it slowly."

Still weak..? What? You must look confused, as she laughs quietly, an impossibly mirthful sound that would be infectious if it wasn't as haunting.

"Of course, you're still at the stage of dissociation. At least you're not awakening prematurely this time." What?

>What say?
Rolled 43

"Where am I?
Are you selling my organs?
Where is Jonny? Where is the girl? Where are the sexy birds?"
Busy day. Writan as we speak.

"Where am I?" The obvious question when being addressed in unfamiliar locations by unknown entities. Perhaps too obvious, as "she" rolls her eyes and sighs a millennial sigh.

"You're tiresome when you're like this. This is a safe house wherein you may restore yourself whenever your psimulate sustains excessive damage. You brought this upon yourself by reckless usage of your budding power. It's been the eleventh time you've come here."

Eleventh time..? You don't recall coming here ever, let alone ten times before. "That means... you're not selling my organs?"

That haunting mirthful laughter again. "You really are stuck in your mindset of the past, aren't you? No, nothing of the sort. There isn't much to sell either way."

This... person, if that's what she is, seems fond of giving answers that raise more questions. Very well, let her give a straight answer then. "Where's Jonny and the girl? And while we're at it, the bird things?"

"The ones you found so attractive?"


"Those creatures are inhabitants of the cosmic frontier between your world and the unshaped power of the Metastreumonic force. Your focus happened to fall upon a temple dedicated to creating a bridge between the worlds. Maybe something within you craved for a return to its origins?" Return to what now? You were trying to return home, is that what she means?

"What about Jonny and the girl?" Her smile drops. "They are where you lead them towards. Do you want to go back to them now, or is there anything else you want to know before you leave?"

>Return somehow
>Ask a final question
Rolled 10 (1d100)

"Do I forget this every time or will memories come back at some point?"
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>Rolled 10 (1d100)
Did moot just make a stealth update to the dice system?
Does that mean we can get visible sage back?
>Seems that way.

You ponder about the futility of asking this being in front of you any further questions. In truth, this is hardly the first time you've forgotten something that ought to have been a lifetime experience inexplicably. "Do I forget these trips every time?"

"She" pauses, studying you. You feel as though she's staring beyond your face and at your very soul. It's an uncomfortable and unsettling experience. "Perhaps not... You're maturing quickly, even with your self-abusing ways. Continue to grow strong, both for your present self and for your ultimate goal."

"Ultimate goal?"

"All in due time. Do not create too many attachments to that world, it will make it all harder." Your body went limp as you appeared to sink into the bed, the creature's presence fading from sight. "But harm others needlessly, and you'll be harming yourself." Her voice echoed impossibly close to your ears, as all returned to nothing. [cont]
You come to in the unmistakeably cramped cubicle, to the humming tune of your toaster of a terminal and a sound you haven't heard in a while; someone doing the dishes. Whatever typically compels you into take action seems to be stuck in a rut; for now you lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling, consigning action to the you of the immediate future.

>Thread over, unfortunately. Familiarity breeds contempt, and I have to deal with family. Will try to do this again next week and pick up the pace.
So, just to summarise for those who are currently going WTF; It appears as though that the world we experience is false and is intended to be there for us to develop out PSI powers.

Unless we're undergoing some fuck-weird Metastreunomic bullshit of the highest order then fuck me with desu Jesus, I don't know what's going on.
File: 1386023153652.jpg (264 KB, 1920x1080)
264 KB
264 KB JPG
Don't worry, thats normal.

[Advertise on 4chan]

Delete Post: [File Only] Style:
[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / vr / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [s4s] [cm / hm / lgbt / y] [3 / adv / an / asp / biz / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / gd / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / out / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / wsg / x] [Settings] [Home]
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.