Welcome to the Scrapworld. There may be multiple QMs rotating in and out of this one shot. Expect high lethality.---In the twinkling expanse of the Silent Stars there are countless worlds, gems of civilizations, mundane colonies, entire planets devoted to harvest of resource, and places embroiled in war. This place was none of these.1 - It was an arid wasteland with abandoned equipment and workers.3 - A planetary scrapyard of unwanted material and occasionally people.2 - It was a graveyard of orbital debris, ships, and derelict stations in orbit around a nameless gas giant.4 - The quarantine zone was the world, and the world was forgotten.5 - It was an unauthorized development founded on the refuse of the galaxy, thriving and lawless.
>>4614226>4 - The quarantine zone was the world, and the world was forgotten.THE LAND OF THE DEAD SHALL BE THE MOST BRIGHTEST NIGHT AS WE FILL IT WITH THE FLASH OF GUNPOWDER AND FIRE!
>>4614226I choose the opción 2, which is after the three. >quarantene. Lmao
>>4614226>2 - It was a graveyard of orbital debris, ships, and derelict stations in orbit around a nameless gas giant.
>>4614226>- A planetary scrapyard of unwanted material and occasionally people.
>>4614226>4 - The quarantine zone was the world, and the world was forgotten.Topical
>>4614326gotta take care of some stuff, update at the top of the hour. If its a tie I'll flip a 1d2.
>>4614226>4 - The quarantine zone was the world, and the world was forgotten.
>>4614347>>4614350>>4614326>>4614230Seems the playerbase has a case of badly needed catharsis.---Three generations. According to the old manuals, that was how long an occupation force needed to hold a territory to enact a cultural shift. How long had it been since the satellites went dead, the space ports shut down, since the planetary infrastructure fractured and society began it's death throes?---1> When? Its happening right now nigga!2> Two. The old timers remember it, but chaos is all we know now, its been dark out for a long time.3> Three. We survived, it cost us, but we are rebuilding.---ill be back in 15.
>>4614373> When? Its happening right now nigga!
>>4614373>3> Three. We survived, it cost us, but we are rebuilding.
>>4614373>> When? Its happening right now nigga!
>>4614373>2> Two. The old timers remember it, but chaos is all we know now, its been dark out for a long time.
>>4614381>>4614387It was going down right now. Just three months had passed since the Dominion ships silenced the system. We were a backwater world, but well developed. There was no warning, first the comm network went dead and then any of the ships and orbital infrastructure were shot to hell. Next they lanced our industrial centers and comms locations for a few weeks. After that, there was nothing. A few private craft tried to take off but were taken down by automated defense weaponry, and jammers kept any attempts at comms to a local level.Things broke down pretty fast. Power is consolidating around major cities and infrastructure. The vertical stack farming has managed to feed a majority of the population for now, but its failing slowly. The thing was, that wasn't the big problem.---1. The cure was untested, and then the mutations started happening. I wish it was death, instead they became monsters.2. It was untested nanotech, in our food and water supplies. It was supposed to be the next phase of humanity; instead it was a nightmare. We're changing, and preying on one another now, most of us to survive, but some of us...thrive in it.3. The Coof. Without the research labs and pharmaceutical manufacturing plants, we started to die off fast. Isolation worked for a while, but now we need to scavenge to keep things going.
>>46144384. The Cure! The Cure was the disease!
>>4614438>2. It was untested nanotech, in our food and water supplies. It was supposed to be the next phase of humanity; instead it was a nightmare. We're changing, and preying on one another now, most of us to survive, but some of us...thrive in it.NANO PLAGUE
>>4614438>2. It was untested nanotech, in our food and water supplies. It was supposed to be the next phase of humanity; instead it was a nightmare. We're changing, and preying on one another now, most of us to survive, but some of us...thrive in it.
>>46144382. It was untested nanotech, in our food and water supplies. It was supposed to be the next phase of humanity; instead it was a nightmare. We're changing, and preying on one another now, most of us to survive, but some of us...thrive in it.At least the nanoviagra gave us large peens before we became monsters
>>4614438>3. The Coof. Without the research labs and pharmaceutical manufacturing plants, we started to die off fast. Isolation worked for a while, but now we need to scavenge to keep things going.
>>4614463>>4614461>>4614460Most of us were showing already, unnatural adaptations and subtle changes in our thoughts. Out of control, with no defined path, each instance was unique to the individual. Some of the more radical adaptations were outright fatal. Killed off a lot of us. Sometimes it was implantation of memories or thoughts that weren't ours. You know it's not yours, even when you feel it, like you lived it, but its still alien. Some'a us couldn't deal and ended it. There was a search for a cure, but its looking bad. EMP therapy worked, but we either died, got real sick, or got reinfected just as fast. Some of the bodies actually reactivated...dont like to talk much about that.Nowdays we are just trying to survive and keep it together, do a daily assessment of where our head is at, if our face is still there.How about you? Holding up ok?----I still remember me...I was:1.An electromechanic and rig jockey. (start with repair and mechancial knowledge, multi tool and a low end exoskeleton)2. A student and gig worker. (generalist supreme, has a portable computer, sympathetic AI companion and neural jack. )3.An enforcer and medic. (general purpose plasma SMG and large field hospital grade trauma backpack)4. At ground zero, I helped develop it. (has some control over the nanotechnology, both within and without the body.)
>>4614438>Untested NanotechThe dominion have abandoned us to this manufactured pestilence. Those afflicted, their bodies have been corrupted by a plague of blood smeared chrome. They watch us, even in the depths of their animalistic madness, constantly testing the barricades, claws of rusted steel pushing from tattered nail beds, jagged fangs of titanium jutting from warped and mishapen skulls. We’re running low on ammunition, even lower on food and medicine. The lights are starting to go out. If you can hear this, seal yourself away as much as you can. Ignore the screams. Ignore the pleas. Ignore whatever they say or whatever you hear. They aren’t your friends anymore, not your family, not your wife or children. They’re gone. Stay safe, stay secure and stay quiet. And make sure you save your last shot for yourself.Hab Block Epsilon, signing off.
>>4614508>1.An electromechanic and rig jockey. (start with repair and mechancial knowledge, multi tool and a low end exoskeleton)Everything synthetic has gone to hell in a handbasket. We are uniquely qualified to deal with the problems this situation brings.
>>4614508>1.An electromechanic and rig jockey. (start with repair and mechancial knowledge, multi tool and a low end exoskeleton)
>>4614508>2. A student and gig worker. (generalist supreme, has a portable computer, sympathetic AI companion and neural jack. )I want to try and see if we could use our knowledge or our AI to hack the nanomachines
>>4614508>2. A student and gig worker. (generalist supreme, has a portable computer, sympathetic AI companion and neural jack. )
>>4614508>1.An electromechanic and rig jockey. (start with repair and mechancial knowledge, multi tool and a low end exoskeleton)AI are gay
>>4614588I see that you were a real blue collar type. Not too afraid to do hard work, and equipped do it well. A lot of your kind got displaced in the bombardments, but we need any help we can get setting up patchwork to the local infrastructure.I gotta ask though. How bad as it for you? Also...not to be rude, but none of us know what is under your worker's outfit.---->pick one of each.I am a:1. Male2. Female---I am:1. Still pretty young.2. Had some experience in life.3. Pushing middle age.---The change is:1. Pretty bad. My thoughts and body are getting fucked up.2. Still early, the inorganic patches itch.3. I know I was human.
>>4614630>1. Male>1. Still pretty young> 2. Still early, the inorganic patches itch.
>>4614630> Female who had some experience in life and their thoughts and body are getting fucked up
>>4614630>2. Female1. Still pretty young.2. Still early, the inorganic patches itch.
Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d2)>>4614632>>4614637>>4614638>>4614696tie for male/ female.tie for life experience/ young.early stages of infection.let the dice flips begin.
>>4614805Carefully pulling down the heavy fireproof cloth of your worker's cowl and hood, you let the speaker get a view of you. He is kindly despite a ruined face. His attempt at a smile is a sickly twitch as flesh moves faster than concrete grey material pockmarked with white lights."A man with some seasoning. Not too unexpected to be fair, and welcomed. Won't need to hold your hand then."He runs a fully infected claw through ropey hair, some of it metallic strands, the others salt and pepper grey.--You feel the itch again, the unnatural hunger to scoop handfuls of glass and copper into your mouth. It is ignorable though, and instead focus on the speaker. To your left and right are other survivors, now scavengers for the settlement.Something that was once a woman, now resembling a statue given life. The past few nights you've been around this team, she hasn't talked. There is a young female student as well, but the changes are wrought pretty deeply into the body and mind, twitches and near inhuman conclusions to questions leave you wondering how much more time she has. Sulking off not to far is a young male, a would be thug covered in gang tattoos with several cybernetic limbs. The nano infection has been busily blurring the line between flesh and synthetic on him...---"It looks like you have stock of your surroundings...Sorry I didn't catch your name yet. Granted, maybe you want to tell if you survive this latest errand. We are going to have to abandon this camp, no surprise there. The infected are ramping up attacks at night, so we have to get our crawler operational and the fuck out of here with anything that it will hold. That means your job is to go get the parts from whatever is left of the industrial district. Try and get ready for tonight, with them attacking us here, you should have a straight shot to what you need. Tomorrow we are rolling out, with our without that Crawler."Camp was a converted stadium; it had been defensible and visible, and also close enough to loot what the city had to offer, but now it was a sea of refugees and an increasingly large target. Equipment and vehicles filled the arena proper, with the massive crawler dominating a lion's share of the space. Already IEDs had blown a hole in the western wall, and the automatic turrets were barely holding up; let alone the ammo shortage.There is a lot to do.---roll 3d1001>Try and scrounge for some equipment. (benefits yourself)roll 1d100 (easy pass)or2>Shore up the western wall defenses. (protects the camp)roll 1d100 (easy pass)and3>talk to the locals. (might learn something useful)roll 1d100 (mid pass)4>Leave early and scout out what you need. (easier time on the mission/ better potential loot)roll 1d100 (hard pass)or5>fucking idiots, you can probably jury rig the crawler to run just fine. (bypass the need to do the mission because this is your class specialty)roll 1d100 (mid pass)
Rolled 38, 24, 88 = 150 (3d100)>>46148441, 3, 5
Rolled 93, 66, 98 = 257 (3d100)>>4614844>2 Shore up the western wall defenses. (protects the camp)>3 talk to the locals. (might learn something useful)>5 fucking idiots, you can probably jury rig the crawler to run just fine (bypass the need to do the mission because this is your class specialty)
Rolled 79, 81, 64 = 224 (3d100)>>4614844>Try and scrounge for some equipment. (benefits yourself)>talk to the locals.>fucking idiots, you can probably jury rig the crawler to run just fine.
>>4615007>>4615186(I am a fun gun. I'll only take your high rolls, until I see a one. Then I am going to take that one and fuck you sideways, but now you know the rules to the quest, so sometimes is it better to be greedy or have more votes from the player base?)93,81,98--->93Sparks and welder's light bath you in the late afternoon, the multi tool equipped to your exoskeleton makes quick work of broken gun turrets and static walls. Bits and pieces of detritus from ruins outside the stadium are added to the defenses, and soon any attackers would be faced with a sheer wall of wrecked vehicles and murder holes for the turrets. Looking upon your work and feeling fully satisfied, you chew on the tip of a green leaf candela cigar. A quick blast from the end of your tool's torch lights the foul stick. Yes...quitting was for idiots, and now with the nanotech plague, doesn't seem to matter too damn much.>98After a long puff, you spit out a wad of chewing tobacco in a long stream of ichor that rolls down your chin. Yes. The end of the world; here is to old habits. Like Hell if you were gonna go out into the city at night and fucking look for some bullshit OEM parts for a crawler. Fucking thing was built off of common plan equipment and had more in common with a farm ground drone than a personal transport. So it was missing some parts, like the starter was fried. Old diesels can be air started, and thats exactly what you were gonna do. The next few hours into the evening were spent rigging a small combustion engine, a compound of turbochargers and some ductwork to the monstrous main engine of the crawler. A cheap portable fuel can was gravity fed to the new "starter". After that all that was left to do was rip out any form of emissions or safety equipment. Puffing away at your smoke you revved the small engine. The screams and yells were starting now, dark settling in, stirring something in the brains of the infected. "C'mon bitch. Cheech to life. You fucking whore. Turnover." The Diesel eventually groaned as pressurized and heated air forced its pistons up and down, the crank picking up speed. The little starter engine was pegged at it's redline, screaming away as the first few pops of life turned into a throaty roar. Letting it go, the main engine could self sustain now.The autoturrets were firing off now, you heard claw against the barricade. You were sweaty, and where the nano infection was overtaking your flesh, a thin oily substance leaked out. Fuck. Thank fuck you didn't have to go outside. Shaky hands were braced by an exoskeleton, quickly fishing out a hip flask that ended in a long pull of some cheap rye whiskey.>81"That's gonna make you sick mister. Its what Da said!" A group of little kids had been watching as you worked. One of the bolder ones approached you. Overalls and an eye overtaken by the infection, now a compound of glittering lenses. A few of the younger ones had misshapen arms or legs, bodies growing with the change.
>>4615298A woman about your age herded the children away before you had a chance to think of anything too crude to say. Locking your exoskeleton, you watched the sky turn to pitch black. Without most of the city lights, the stars were visible...it wasn't too bad. The cherry glow of the cigar lit you up long enough for the child with compound eyes to spot you. "Mister! Ma says you fixed up the crawler AND patched up the gun wall. Uncle Jimmy woulda been up on the wall, or out with you looking for parts tonight...I don't got much, but here ya go...its my favorite toy. The Spy!"A reinforced screen with some buttons on the side is handed to you with a child's enthusiasm before he runs off into the darkness again. Looking the thing over, its a civic master key. How the fuck he had it is beyond you. One part big brother, one part municipal controls. Someone popped the emergency code and unlocked daily encryption requirements when shit hit the fan.You cycle through the remaining video feeds. Some are calm pictures of local areas, others of people being slaughtered in the streets....the city as a hab was still alive, but it was gonna fall apart without support. On the other hand, there was an old skyport not too far away, with this you might be able to take control of a skyskip and get the fuck outta here. lotta options.---->Take the key to the leader.>Use it to escape via the skyport>Use it to try and establish communication with the other habs.>Try and activate the riot walls, quarantine the worst parts of the city and restore order.>Not your problem. Just stick with the plan and lay low until morning, catch a ride to the bunker.
>>4615338>Try and activate the riot walls, quarantine the worst parts of the city and restore order.I don't care about the "restore order" part, but being able to contain and/or herd the crazy infected will be enough of a breather for the not-crazy infected. That should give more room for the plan to work next morning
>>4615338>Try and activate the riot walls, quarantine the worst parts of the city and restore order.
>>4615338>>Try and activate the riot walls, quarantine the worst parts of the city and restore order.
>>4615363https://youtu.be/vAzIuxldPhE <Brigador Complete OST>A light mist is falling, fighting with the cherry glow of your cigar and washing away the miasma of smoke. You will have to make it to the municipal pacification building. That in itself is a bit of a walk. In times gone past they might have been called police, guards, peacekeepers, or enforcers. Now they are holed up in their fortress with their families and only venture out for supplies. Makes sense they hadn't raised the walls now; they never had the city key. You spit off the rail of the stadium box seats you've claimed as your temporary home. Somewhere down below that loogie hit the top of one of a hundred small tents and campers, mixing in with the coming rain. You made your way down to talk with the local leadership about this...---Attempts to radio or otherwise contact the MPB failed, the camp's radios were jammed outside of the immediate area and hard lines had been cut in half by the orbital lances."Sorry to do this to ya, considering all that you've done so far, but...gonna have to say it; we need you to make the run. Most of us aren't able, and that exo on your back is more than we got." Truth be told the speaker was just a member of the agri-cast. They just didn't have much beyond the farm equipment and some self defense items. Scatted bouts of gunfire broke the silence as the infected were cut down outside the perimeter of the stadium. "We got a few man portable guns here in the camp....not legal, but I don't think that matters too much now does it? Take a look and grab what you need."Your Exoskeleton can be exploited to its fullest.----1. Plasma SMG (jack of all trades, short-medium range, nothing special and nothing bad, overheating is a problem for sustained burst)2. crude shield and industrial cutting tool. (it seems you are a madman. A madman who can make entries where there are none.)3. Double barreled shotgun. (point blank to short range, increased chance of success on low rolls, higher crits, but roll to reload.)4. Man Portable agricultural flamethrower (it seems you are a madman.)
>>4615535>4. Man Portable agricultural flamethrower (it seems you are a madman.)
>>4615535>3. Double barreled shotgun. (point blank to short range, increased chance of success on low rolls, higher crits, but roll to reload.)
>>4615535>2. crude shield and industrial cutting tool. (it seems you are a madman. A madman who can make entries where there are none.)Powertool on higher levels can be used to cut people. The shield protects us from infected material and can be used to bash because we have power armor.
>>4615578Or better said exoskeleton.
>>4615543You grab a lump of glass reinforced nylon and steel. Next to it is a bandoleer of pouches, each containing shot shells.x1 double barreled shotgun<ammo>x10 low brass shotx6 low brass slugsx4 high brass slugsx4 high brass shotx2 dragon's breath------"Know how to use that?"1.Yes2.NoandHow will you get to the MPB?1. Open streets, pass by a few stores on the way for looting.2. Use the Master Key to navigate the sewers and get there quietly.3. Use the narrow walkways above the city to get there quickly.
>>46156371.Yes3. Use the narrow walkways above the city to get there quickly.Better vantage points
>>4615637>1.Yes>3. Use the narrow walkways above the city to get there quickly.
>>46156372.No1. Open streets, pass by a few stores on the way for looting.
>>4615637>2.No>>4615637>1. Open streets, pass by a few stores on the way for looting.
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>4615642>>4615658tie breakers? no. ok.>>4615642Truth be told, you've never killed anyone or shot a gun much more than the industrial shotgun for blasting slag off the side of the kilns. Still, it was familiar, and you had a rough idea of the spread of shot.The speaker shows you how to met wax or anything else into the shot of a shell. It was a poor man's slug.---Gained x1 wax slug.Lost x1 low brass shot.learned: Wax slugs.rolling 1d2 for streets/ walkway.
>>4615665roll me a 4d100 for your walkway adventure. First one is for condition of the walkways, mid 2 are for encounter, and 1 is loot. Low is bad.
Rolled 9, 40, 1, 96 = 146 (4d100)>>4615667
Rolled 88, 43, 92, 70 = 293 (4d100)>>4615667Let's go ladies and gents.
Rolled 28, 49, 18, 96 = 191 (4d100)>>4615667
>>4615764I look upon my field of dice and find that they are barren. Ill go with the current set in 15 minutes.A reminder to players; you may only roll once, but I allow an unlimited number of players to roll unless otherwise stated.A 1 will cancel a 100, and vice versa.
Rolled 39, 58, 18, 11 = 126 (4d100)>>4615667
Rolled 12, 1, 100, 75 = 188 (4d100)>>4615667Yeah yeah yeah. I forgot how to roll. here.
>>4615775>4615775WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU FOOL
>>4615783Horrible, Horrible things.
Rolled 12, 28, 66, 71 = 177 (4d100)>>4615667saving this thread
>>4615670 oof.>>4615672 >>4615680>>4615773>>4615775 fucking madman.The tally is:88, 1, (92), 96---Stepping out into the steel and glass walkway, you notice the sky flashing angrily. The Storms were part of the planetary jamming; keeping any word of this from reaching the rest of the system, let alone to the dominion. Some sort of weather control was in place like a terraformer. You absently mindedly ran your hand across scummy glass, surprised it was all still there. Cracked in places, but structurally sound. If the city could be turned around, the skywalks might be a nice place again someday.the quiet walk was only interrupted by the hissing of your exo and the pitter patter of rain on glass. Below you were the infected, and survivors. To be fair we were all infected, but some of us...lost it. There wasn't much you could do for them from up here, so the walk continued through several buildings and skywalks until you got mid city. That was when it turned to shit.A pack of infected berserkers, masses of grey flesh and jutting blades were picking up speed and closing in on you. the narrow walkway was another 100 meters of clear space ahead of you. Behind was death.---->Stand and deliver! roll 4d100, and pick what shells you are loading. loading, fire, fire, reload. (combat)>run for it! exo dont fail me now! 1d100 (skip the loot)>Looks like I'm gonna have to jump! Smash the windows and egress. 1d100 (hard)>Take down half the skywalk with your multi tool in a most expeditious manner, its only glass and cable. (2d100) the demolition, and the survival.
Rolled 63, 54, 17, 68 = 202 (4d100)>>4615795>>Stand and deliver! roll 4d100, and pick what shells you are loading. loading, fire, fire, reload. (combat)
Rolled 42, 65 = 107 (2d100)>>4615795>Take down half the skywalk with your multi tool in a most expeditious manner, its only glass and cable. (2d100) the demolition, and the survival.WOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LET'S GGGGOOO. Environmental kills just like MK
Rolled 58, 51 = 109 (2d100)>>4615795>>Take down half the skywalk with your multi tool in a most expeditious manner, its only glass and cable. (2d100) the demolition, and the survival.
Rolled 11, 37 = 48 (2d100)>>4615795>>Take down half the skywalk with your multi tool in a most expeditious manner, its only glass and cable. (2d100) the demolition, and the survival.
>>4615816>>461584058,65: This was what you were born to do.---Panic settles in as you stare down the horde, you wished time was slowing down but it seems to be speeding up. No way in hell is your shotgun going to stop that.Your exoskeleton whines as you puch out glass, clawing at cables and sawing frantically with your multi tool. The tensions leaves the cables with a supersonic crack, the first ripping through glass and metal, and suddenly the floor beneath your feet is shattering and buckling.--->Hold on, try to climb up. (small ofo, but maybe big oof) 2d100>Try to fall somewhere gracefully. (big oof) 1d100>Run. Run faster than this half of the skywalk is failing. (hard but no damage) 1d100
Rolled 44, 51 = 95 (2d100)>>4615974>>Hold on, try to climb up. (small ofo, but maybe big oof) 2d100
Rolled 10, 32 = 42 (2d100)>>4615974>>Hold on, try to climb up. (small ofo, but maybe big oof) 2d100
>>4615995>44 oof.The flimsy bridge collapses, sending you slamming into the side of a building, bits of glass tearing through the thick fire resistant coveralls and embedding down below. Impact deadened nerves fail you as your exoskeleton clings on to one of the remaining structural cables.>51You come to with blood in your eyes, not too sure how long it has been. With a grunt and a hiss of the suit, you haul yourself up into the shattered entry of the next building. There is glass in you, but trying to pick it out hurts too bad. Its more than stuck. Fuck. You know damn well the infection has grabbed onto the inorganic material, soon each puncture will be a spread of new....whatever the hell it is.At least your handwork sent the freaks down about 20 stories, they wont be getting back up. You are inside of an office building, not too far from the MPB. This level has an obvious path to the next skywalk, and nearby is an automat. The hermetically sealed food keeps for a while at least.>Berseker pack defeated--->Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.>Just press on.>write in, any old idea is fine. This is a big office building and a big city.
>>4616028We need to force out these glass pieces out of us. The risk for infection is too great even if we start bleeding.
>>4616089>Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.
>>4616028>Grab a bite to eat and see about those injuries.
>>4616290Hungry. Hurt. More than a little dizzy. You follow the still illuminated signs towards the tower's automat. People had been raiding the place for food for a while, but there were still a few selections left. Probably still some folks hunkered up somewhere in this tower. You grab a few selections and bill it to a debt chit. Well, one of many debt chits. The system was still running, and plenty of dead people didn't need to track societal debt anymore. Shoving the lanyard of chits back into your pocket a meal of split pea and "ham" soup awaits.It was exactly as good as rehydrated instant soup will be. Salty and fortified with needed nutrients. After getting your fill, you take a bit to look around and find what you were looking for. Its a med kit, already opened but placed back in it's container. Yeah, there are people hiding out here. probably hoping for a return to something normal.Opening the kit reveals most of it is gone, but the metal instruments, a few trauma plugs, and some bulk antiseptic. after peeling open your coveralls you take stock of the situation. A bunch of little punctures all over your stomach and chest, one nasty rip thats bleeding pretty good, and your arms are chewed up. After a few experimental tugs that are very painful, you realize a majority of the glass isin't going anywhere. Already the tissue around the glass shards is turning glossy and grey, hard to the touch; the infection within you is using it to make something new. Great. Your gratitude towards the nanomachines within you knows no bounds. Its bad enough that the fuckers are trying to absorb your clothes into your skin. Most survivors are fastidious in their change of clothes and washing where they can, less the synthetic fibers start become incorporated into their being.The worst shard was pulled out of your gut, and a trauma plug was jammed in. The collection of nanotech in the plug was a different species than the infection, but...you suspected you were damned if you did, damned if you didn't. Grabbing a pack of smokes from the automat rounds out the experience and calms your nerves down. After getting dressed back up, you appreciate that the table you were at is a bloody, dirty mess.>gained x1 trauma plug (this is the outcome of your good loot roll.)---roll a 1d100 regardless.>1. Keep moving through the skywalks towards the MPB>2. See if you can find the survivors here.>4. Check the skywalk terminals for other locations.>3. write in.
>>4616379>>3. write in.Assess what are real wounds and what are superficial
>>4616379>2. See if you can find the survivors here.
>>4616385You never had much self aid buddy care training as an electromechanic. You fix things, not people. Looking over your wounds, none of them are leaking too bad anymore. The trauma plug took care of the deepest one; that might have hit an organ, but its fine enough now. The infection has changed everyone already, its easier to ignore injuries at least for a time. Bleeding out is still a problem, but the nanomachines are pretty aggressive about infection. pulling your coveralls into place lets you socket back into the exo. Cybernetic ports along your spine accept impulse rods that invade your body from the machine, and soon all is well with the world. You have your second skin back. A quick review shows that the machine has suffered not at all from your recent...excursions. AshigaruScharzkropf Ltd makes good equipment. Probably the best on this planet. Well, their licensed designs that are locally made and arguably inferior to dominion imports...are probably the best available, but lets not mince words.You realize that you are talking to yourself again. At least it's internal monologue. Right? right.>>4616388You wander around for a while in the office building. Its mostly cubicles and other bullshit that doesn't interest you. A few of the meeting rooms are sites of mass suicides, and its not something you wanted to fuck around with. The smell alone is disgusting. Some of them are pretty fresh, but plenty are twisted, the bodies dead but the nanos slowly working their way through the flesh and decay, creating a pile of frozen statues. A few slowly move at a near imperceivable rate, the machines are burning fat and tissue as fuel, but not fast enough to make them a threat.You wander for another half hour, chasing down some small noise and eventually find a badly infected survivor laying in a pool of tar looking blood. While not likely to die, a change will overtake them in another day, and its never too sure if the mind survives that one in tact.. You could use your last trauma plug to save the individual, or put them down before they turn.----1. Execute (roll 1d100)2. Save. Could be useful. (roll 1d100)3. Walk away. not my problem.
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4616534>2. Save. Could be useful. (roll 1d100)
Rolled 44 (1d100)>>46165342. Save. Could be useful. (roll 1d100)If save fails we can always just kill them anyway.
Rolled 38 (1d100)>>4616534... I was thinking on self preservation but fuck it!! Let's save the poor person>2. Save. Could be useful. (roll 1d100)
>>4616547Looking over the individual, you can now make out that it's a male student intern working for whatever company this building housed. The bulky clothing that is prominent in this world's culture usually obscures immediate identifying features. A doctor you are not, flipping the unconscious man over onto his stomach to search for the source of bleeding. A large rent in his back, likely from one of the truly lost infected. Trauma plugs are not a precision art. You jam them in, and if there is enough of you left, they work by emulating or replacing lost critical tissue. Over time the patch needs upkeep or it will break down, so a trip to the med center is in order usually every few years. Nowdays...the nanoculture gets overtaken by the wild infection. Staring down at the youth you mumble. "take what you can get kid." before shoving the plug into the wound site. almost immediately the congealed blood sizzles and the hole fills up with grey foam. Its doing it's thing. You back off, knowing what comes next from seeing enough industrial accidents.The kid basically jumps up in a panic, trying to talk, trying to do anything. His eyes and mouth were already transformed, grey with pinpoint light at random places. Not feral though, just upset. You kept the shotgun ready all the same. Finally he plugged a cable into the back of his head, running to something similar to your master key. A good enough approximation of a male voice greets you. "Thanks for the save man! The name is Gesang." He extends an arm still human enough to recognise. Tan skin. Foreign name. From another hab originally. You keep him talking without words and a little coaxing from the shotgun "Hey! I know..the body is a little messed up, but I am trying to find something...a cure you see! Maybe not for our bodies, but our minds."---Gesang is a male student, with the ability to hack. He has no weapons beyond a nano claw.---->1. Come with me, I have to lock down the city.>2. Rooty tooty point and shooty. Fuck you Gesang. It turns out you were racist.>3. What can you make of this. Show him the city key device.>4. write in.
>>4616626>1. Come with me, I have to lock down the city.I'd rather not just hand over the key toGesang but we can fill him into whats up.I take that currently the plan is to lock down the city, return to the Stadium and then escape into the bunker??
>>4616626>>1. Come with me, I have to lock down the city.
>>4616626>1. Come with me, I have to lock down the city.
>>4616668"Come with me, the city needs to be locked down. Prevent the districts from going to shit where we can." Stopping for a moment, you use the multi tool to cut the push bar handle off a door, sharpening the tip into a shiv and giving it a quick edge.>Gesang has gained x1 ShankYou mostly ignore his questions about who you are, or how you are going to do what you plan to do. The rest of the walk is pretty uneventful as you approach the MPB.Roll for the last leg of the journey.1d100.
Rolled 12 (1d100)>>4616685
Rolled 61 (1d100)>>4616685
Rolled 16, 65 = 81 (2d100)>>4616685DubsCheckem
Rolled 4 (1d100)>>4616779Bold of you.--Between the final kilometer of skyway and the MPB is another office terminal floor. In it are those fully lost to the infection.>16A single bulked out freakshow of a brute eyes you with glassy lenses embedded in a child's face on an 8 foot body. Its arms terminate into a set of organic wrecking balls studded with erratic metallic growths.>654 infected flank it like a pack of wolves around their alpha, where the leader is a beast, these things still wield tools. One even has a plasma pistol, the other three are armed with makeshift clubs.The terminal itself is a ruin of shattered vending machines and chairs, flicking holographic displays offer some illumination.You are now being charged at. You are now being shot at. Gesang will attempt to defend you or follow your orders.---Reminder: This is a high lethality setting. A good hit kills you. A heroic character you are yet not.Examine the previous rolls, know what you have, and how to use it.Hints: Your multi tool is a combination welder/ torch/ cutter capable of fine or brutal work.Hints: Your shotgun's ammo dictates what will be done.Pick one>Try to evade and collapse the skywalk behind you on the way to the MPD. You are stuck at the MPD. (3d100) 2 escapes, and a collapse.>Give Gesang the City Key and send him ahead to ensure success. (2d100) low challenge>Stand and deliver! 3d100, load your choice of ammo, and shoot twice.And>Have Gesang use his hack ability to try and help, instead of fight. (1d100)or>Have Gesang defend you with shank and claw(1d100)----Rolling for accuracy of initial shot from the enemy.
Rolled 74, 42, 12 = 128 (3d100)>>4616856>>Stand and deliver! 3d100, load your choice of ammo, and shoot twice.ez
>>4616859You got to choose your ammo homie.
>>4616863Wax Slug because I'm a sadist.
Rolled 63, 71, 24 = 158 (3d100)>>4616856>>Stand and deliver! 3d100, load your choice of ammo, and shoot twice.High brass ammo, both shots>>Have Gesang use his hack ability to try and help, instead of fight. (1d100)
Rolled 47, 83, 67, 38 = 235 (4d100)>>4616856>>Stand and deliver! 3d100, load your choice of ammo, and shoot twice.Low brass shot, and then dragon's breath.>Have Gesang use his hack ability to try and help, instead of fight. (1d100)This guy will probably be useless in melee.
Rolled 6, 15, 75, 79 = 175 (4d100)>>4616887>>4616859>>4616883>>4616887enemy phase.>4the gunner infect shoots one of the runners in the back, momentarily toppling it over face forward into broken glass. Its a mess.Three infected and one brute are in full charge at you, in the open.--->38: Go Gesang!The young man's profanity comes out of his personal device as he attempts to wirelessly interface with anything. anything at all. Most of the equipment on the floor is dead, but one wrecked food cooler still yet flickers with life. "Got it! Purge refridgerant. Freeze assholes!"The rampaging infected are not bothered by a cloud of very cold gas. It has no effect other than making it harder for you to see a target.(-5 to hit targets in the gas)--->74 Speed load, accurate pick of shells.Your hands work quickly, grabbing two shells from your bandoleer and loading them. The exoskeleton might be stabilizing the worst of panic shakes.>83: Highbrass slug (-5 to hit)The shot's recoil is vicious. You had never used a hand held gun before this moment, the factory kiln blasters were always supported on a mechanical arm. Your hand goes numb. An appreciable chunk of the brute's torso explodes out it's back, dropping the freak.>67: dragon's breath (-5 to hit)The Dragons breath came out very mild in terms of recoil, but the scatter of pyrophoric metals impacted the refridgerant gas with great enthusiasm. It would seem it was flammable. Before the shot ever hit any of the infected, the resultant fireball engulfed them all.Rolling for infected survival.3d1001d100+20 (one prone from being shot earlier)
Rolled 14, 7, 96, 82 = 199 (4d100)>>4616915
>>4616929banked for the next roll.>>4616915In the name of efficiency and longevity, flammable refrigerant was used in the chiller mechanism. What was gas in ambient pressure was still liquid in the coils and pump reservoir. The flame propagated back into the vapor chamber and formed a miniature BLEVE. The corpse of brute and the two nearest infected were promptly gibbed, their black and red guts now covering the walls and floors. With no fuel left to burn, the fire contented itself to exist as smoke and isolated bits of burning plastic. You couldn't easily spot the two survivors as they crawled to their feet, groaning, but they were there.To say you and Gesang escaped fully unscathed is somewhat unfair, but there was no burn or scrape that would require a medkit. Maybe momma's kisses if you were a little bitch, and momma didn't raise no little bitch. Erratic shots began flying out of the smoke.----rolling to attack with gunfire.rolling to surprise attack with makeshift club.----Take cover and shoot back. (2d100, and pick your shells.) low chance of injury, low chance of connecting a shot.Make out a target and shoot back. (2d100, and pick your shells.) standing still, but shooting straight.Charge in with the multi tool and enhanced strength. (2d100) high chance of injury to both you and the enemy.andGet Gesang to do something useful again from cover. (1d100) Gesang is safe.Get Gesang to Charge in. (1d100) Gesang is an extra target to take heat off you, and may actually stab something. maybe. high risk to Gesang.roll the sum of the dice you have picked.
Rolled 99, 49 = 148 (2d100)>>4616955my dice were missing.
Rolled 35, 47, 45 = 127 (3d100)>>4616955>Take cover and shoot back. (2d100, and pick your shells.) low chance of injury, low chance of connecting a shotGet Gesang to do something useful again from cover. (1d100) Gesang is safe.
>>4616971low brass shots, both
Rolled 26, 40, 60 = 126 (3d100)>>4616955>Take cover and shoot back. (2d100, and pick your shells.) low chance of injury, low chance of connecting a shot.2x Low brass.>Get Gesang to do something useful again from cover. (1d100) Gesang is safe.
>>461697135 low brass shot +10 for light recoil high spread (45)>>461700047 low brass shot +10 for light recoil high spread (57)>>4616929(banked 96 for gesang)vs 99/46----Trying to run to cover your first shot goes wide, blowing out a window near the infected with the pistol. The hole you punched in the smoke gives you a clear look at her face; pretty once. Twisted with a snarl and deep scars. Leaning up from behind a pile of broken benches you blow away the runner at point blank range, the light recoil belying the amount of damage a shot shell can do to the human torso. The runner dropped like a sack of concrete. but that was the last thing you saw as your head snapped back, catching Gesang's horrific face looking at you in shock.---You are now Gesang. The fellow who just rescued you has been mortally injured, a shot to the head. In a panic you do reach out through the remaining connected equipment on the wifi, punching through poor security and weak passwords. This is all so much. Too much!>Swarm the gunner infected with maintenance bots to death.>stay in cover and summon a trauma bot. (1d2 to save the MC, but only the first roll counts, and the gunner is still alive.)
>>4617078>>Swarm the gunner infected with maintenance bots to death.
Rolled 1 (1d2)>stay in cover and summon a trauma bot. (1d2 to save the MC, but only the first roll counts, and the gunner is still alive.)
>>4617078>>stay in cover and summon a trauma bot. (1d2 to save the MC, but only the first roll counts, and the gunner is still alive.)
Rolled 9 (1d100)>>4617096There was flickering light, it was your vision. "hold in there..so sorry for this..." another black out and then pressure and pain. "Trauma plug in the skull! Sorry! Its a mess!" Trauma plugs aren't supposed to go in the skull. damnit kid. Its black again but you can hear a drone overhead until it gets shot down, then the sound is out too.-->MC has survived.ish.--You are still Gesang, and the infected gunner has taken down the trauma drone. Pants shitting terror is mounting, you didn't come this far to get dropped again!-->Use the shotgun try to load it from cover and fire. 4d100. a 1 kills you. (load, shoot, shoot, chance)>Keep trying to interface with the system. There has to be another thing to wring out of it. 1d100 (chance the gunner will walk up and shoot you point blank on a bad roll)>Sprint to melee, throw your shiv at the gunner to try and knock her aim off. (2d100) mid.---rolling for gunner's actionhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9L7mZH2u3Qc
>>4617116>>Use the shotgun try to load it from cover and fire. 4d100. a 1 kills you. (load, shoot, shoot, chance)
>>4617119Dice+4d100 in the options field
Rolled 64, 51, 67, 20 = 202 (4d100)>>4617119
Rolled 23, 74, 97, 75 = 269 (4d100)>>4617116>>Use the shotgun try to load it from cover and fire. 4d100. a 1 kills you. (load, shoot, shoot, chance)Pray that my low rolls do not kill us all.
Rolled 43, 57, 78, 77 = 255 (4d100)>>4617119Rollum
>>4617124>>4617136>>4617145>>4617124>>4617136>Rooty tooty point and shooty.Your hands are shaking bad as the adrenaline rocks your fine motor controls.>64: LoadYou aren't even sure what you are grabbing but it goes in, the shells all look the same to you sans colors.>74: Dragon's breathThe first pull of the heavy weapon's trigger is softer than you expected, but you are momentarily blinded by a spray of white hot sparks and flame. The Female gunner screams something anamalistic and drops her weapon, flailing in flames as plastic and flesh burn and flow like melting wax.>97: Wax slug:The second shot hurts and snaps your arm back, causing you to drop the firearm with a heavy clatter. The mixture of birdshot and children's wax crayons impacts the Gunner near a window, knocking her through a glass pane. If the slug didn't kill her, the fall will. You for some reason count internally...it took 5 seconds for you to hear the noise. Quieter than you expected.>77: Lucky.All around you were plasma burns, the crazy thing missed you, one and all. The odd worker man is still alive, but out of it, and the lobby of this place is worse for the wear with fire providing some light. You manage to hack a vending machine laying on it's side and get a free orange soda. Its...oddly what you need, considering everything you still seem to have a sense of taste, even if your face is mostly synthetic now. The plasma pistol is pathetically small compared to the shotgun, but more to your capability, it is a reliable weapon limited by heat management. This one is a more modern example, with a smart chip that would allow Pacification units to remotely deactivate it amongst other options. You have some time to pass while you wait for your unnamed friend to get up.>Gesang has gained 1xPlasma pistol.--->Try and find a building terminal nearby 1d100 (hard)>Examine your friend's equipment...via hacking. 2d100 (medium)>Hack the pistol, see what features are hiding. 1d100 (hard)>practice shooting. 3d100
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>4617169>Try and find a building terminal nearby 1d100 (hard)This feels like the best option. Hacking the pistol could potentially lock us out of it if we fail in my mind. Practicing shooting could attract more enemies, and messing with his equipment could also potentially mess it up?
Rolled 37 (1d100)>>4617183Salvation roll
Rolled 40 (1d100)>>4617169>>Try and find a building terminal nearby 1d100 (hard)
>>4617230Then roll. Show us how its done with your manly dice.
Rolled 72 (1d100)>>4617202>>4617184>>4617183watch and learn boys
>>4617244Witnessed. Also thanks for actually rolling over 50. Unlike us plebs.
>>4617244Given your profession, it wasn't too hard to find a terminal still within eyeshot of your unconscious ally. A nice wooden panel was lifted away to reveal an ugly commercial property terminal.The interface was easy enough to navigate, it was probably built on the same backend as those back in your home hab. Your nanotech claw is dexterous enough to keep up with a flesh and blood hand as you examine your options.----Mostly...everything. Nice. Very nice.>1 Activate building panic barriers and isolate individual floors.>2 Check for survivors and hostiles with the security system.>3 Deploy all drones.>4 Establish an uplink with other Corp buildings on the same network.>5 Unseal Research intelligence.>6 Review facility condition and supplies.>7 Remove all unauthorized individuals>8 Add and remove authorized individuals.You have enough time to do all of it. or none of it. The order probably matters a little. or a lot.
>>4617272>Deploy all drones!RELEASE THE COMBAT ROOMBAS
>>4617272>>6 Review facility condition and supplies. >>8 Add and remove authorized individuals.
>>4617272>3 Deploy all drones!
>>4617272>7 Remove all unauthorized individuals>>8 Add and remove authorized individuals.And 3 SEND THE DRONES FORWARD
>>4617440What does the red text strike through mean? New to this
>>4617272>6 Review facility condition and supplies.
>>4617496It means they’re answering a deleted post
>>4617540But it’s a strike through for the 8th objective? What does that mean.
>>4617567No idea my dude
>>4617272>2 Check for survivors and hostiles with the security system.>3 Deploy all drones.>4 Establish an uplink with other Corp buildings on the same network.>5 Unseal Research intelligence.>6 Review facility condition and supplies.Mod of 7 and 8, wipe all the unauthorized people and create a few access keys that could be given out.
>>4617496its because i highlighted my options in the post and 4chan thinks its a thread post number
>>4617272Cue hacking.https://youtu.be/21Zml-ksFlg <Command & Conquer Tiberian Sun Firestorm - (03) Link Up>--->>4617309>>4617432roomba swarm.>>4617411>>4617440>>4617514review facility/ set approved individual white list.>>4617674subsequent execution of remaining options.----With quick thinking you've decided to not murder everyone on accident. Your neuraljack came from offworld and lets you punch through data at savant speeds at least until it starts to get a little toasty. Really sucks about the end of the world, you might have gone on to become a dominion fleet officer. Big sigh. such is life. itu tidak dapat membantu. :|Releasing the entirety of the facilities drones stirs some chaos in the infected and survivors, more so as you rapidly identifiy 60 viable surivors at various levels across the building, then tagging anyone else as unauthorized: lethal removal. Soon the drones attempt to take some semblance of order and even the cleaners are attacking the infected with pressure washers of superheated antiseptic. Within minutes all that is left is silence and stunned horror at what a broomstick and laser stain remover can do to a body. You watch the carnage with hundreds of unblinking optics, quietly whirring as they focus and pan.Deploying the emergency uplink creates an adhoc intranet between this building and any other assets within it's financial network. That turns out to be about 1/8th of the city and a long range beacon to another hab. The amount of power it is drawing however is monstrous, and even with your limited knowledge you suspect this will only last a matter of days without some sort of specialized maintenance. The next option was to unseal an intelligence, which could likely be useful....something happens in as much as you get confirmation, but there is nothing after that past a text based message "Thank you."Without much else to do the building is in overall fine shape, with minimal damage that would be considered structural. Some flooding on a few floors, already being addressed by the drones, and maintenance supplies are good for another month of sustained operation at full capacity. Food is running low though, and deliveries have been ignored for two months....no shit.There is not too much else to do. The whitelist was established, and you can only hope the other buildings take advantage of the momentary comm network.
>>4618010https://youtu.be/QcbMQCLYPyg <Dark Reign 2 Soundtrack OST (2)>As you are about to disengage from the network The AI grabs you. [give place to wrath; for it is written, Vengeance is Mine, I will repay] you catch a wash of non standard code that makes your head hurt. Soon multiple explosions across the city are audible as windows blow out from shockwaves generated by atmospheric heating. The comms lasers on the various builds were coordinated at an unknown space in the sky and pulsed to the point of destruction. The network is gone. All of it's potential snuffed out.Whatever was done seems to be intensisifiying the lightning storms in the sky and from it comes flaming wreckage. Another brutal punch into your mind, and now your nose is bleeding. [to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts]. Staying conscious is a struggle as you forcefully extract from the local network. Blackness keeps threatening to overtake you as you stumble towards your fallen friend who is now sitting upright and rubbing his eyes.---You are the Main Character, and Gesang looks at you wearily, his plastic and ceramic features expressing a hint of pain. "It would seem you are with me once more. Do you have a name?" Already securing your equipment you look over at him and make to answer but a blinding white light and explosive roar stops you. A fucking orbital lance? Again? No...it wasn't the same. Something impacted. Ship maybe.--->1. My name is <write in>>2. My name...Can't remember it.>3. Come on, no time. Gotta get to the MPB.>4. write in.Majority choice wins.
>>4618046>>1. My name is <write in>james clarkson
>>4618046>>1. My name is <write in>Grug
>>4618046>2. My name...Can't remember it.
>>4618046>my name is CursedClese
>>4618046My name is <write in> Alexander Page.
Rolled 1 (1d5)>>4618061james clarkson>>4618073Grug>>4618121>2. My name...Can't remember it.>>4618151>my name is CursedClese>>4618162welcome to the game, i cant use these rolls because we are well in motion, but if our party dies, that character will roll up or maybe get added to the party. Depends on this thread.>>4618170Alexander Page.
>>4618570My name...you feel a little blank on it..not sure if you are making up something, giving a real name, or giving your own...probably doesnt matter too much. Tapping out a cigarette you inhale a long drag after rolling it in your fingers. "Its...Grug, J.C. Grug. People I don't like call me James. Call me Jimmy and I'll bolt your feet to the floor."Gesang sits for a moment before his chest starts to heave, lacking vocal cords due to the infection you were worried he was about to die. No. He was laughing, the tablet at his side emitting poorly emulated laughter. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Grug it is my friend." The man offers you a twisted claw and pulls you to your feet properly. A little dizzy, but otherwise ok."lets get back to it."----Gesang>Have the drones deliver you some supplies. (1d100)>Have the drones scout as far from the building as they can. (1d100)>Evac the building to the stadium, and make sure anything worth while taken. (no roll)Grug>Keep on keeping on. The MPB isint too much further. (1d100)>Pass the master key to Gesang to Examine. (1d100)>Check the nearby maintenance closet. (1d100)
>>4618603>Have the drones deliver you some supplies. (1d100)We better get some more of those miracle trauma plugs while we canplus>Pass the master key to Gesang to Examine. (1d100)I didn't wanted to offer the key to Gesang right away, but i think it is worth it now!.I was thinking, can't we "graft" some ceramics and other fancy things to our torso? With room for our lung box to expand that is** it would be no fun to slowly die as we breathe less and less. Maybe start the process by jammin' in some hard stuff to our limbs...
Rolled 3, 46 = 49 (2d100)>>4618603>>Evac the building to the stadium, and make sure anything worth while taken. (no roll)>Pass the master key to Gesang to Examine. (1d100)"Can you take a loot at this for me?"
Rolled 23, 86 = 109 (2d100)>>4618645do I roll?
There better be an event where some says: Oh my god jc a bomb
>>4618603‘’’Rolled 14, 81 = 95(2d100)’’’>Have the drones deliver you some supplies. (1d100)>Check the nearby maintenance closet. (1d100)This high lethality shit makes me think we need all the med supplies we can get
>>4618887Hey wait why isn’t that in bold
>>4618704>23You toss the master key to Gesang "Take a look at this will ya?" A clawed hand snatches it almost reflexively. "Grug! A treat you have offered me. I must reciprocate while this token's secrets are plied!" You are astounded at how chatty a man with no voice can be. "Here...it is!"A wobbling cargo drone hovers in front of you for a moment, its boxy shape slightly rounded into something resembling a geometric beetle. The "treat" is less than expected. Its a fucking yellow hard hat and welder's mask. "I suspected you would want your head better protected, and this is as good as it is I am afraid."The motherfucker was serious wasn't he? Not trauma plugs, not a weapon, not even a gizmo. Just...this shit. The same shit you would use any normal day at work, and really, the same shit you had left back in the box seating of the stadium. Sure. "Yeah." why not. Hat on, Mask on. "Safety first Gesang. Right?" He doesn't respond, eyes fixed on the key. You wait a bit, the kid is shock still like a statue before acknowledging you."Choices to make Grug. None of them exactly what you want. I've got some control into the city. We could get more if we link this building to the key for a sec, but that AI will be a lot more mobile afterwards. I have one remote access code to burn."---limited options>Restore city mass transit.>Restore city water>Restore limited city automated services.>Authorize use of emergency fabricators.Unrestricted options>all of the limited options.>Enable neighboring cityhab comms laser links, ask for help.>Deploy pacification androids for 36 hours after 4 hours of with audible warning. <indiscriminate termination of all noncompliant entities.>Make your choices.
>>4618898>>Authorize use of emergency fabricators.
>>4618898>Deploy pacification androids for 36 hours after 4 hours of with audible warning. <indiscriminate termination of all noncompliant entities.>
>>4618898>all of the limited options.Shit would really help.
>>4618898>>Deploy pacification androids for 36 hours after 4 hours of with audible warning. <indiscriminate termination of all noncompliant entities.>
>>4618969>>4619157You sit for a bit in silence considering the options. Outside is the sound of a riot, of screaming and death. The city is going to eat itself alive. Sometimes you just gotta cut out the rust and fabricate a new part."Do whats gotta be done. Send out the 'droids." Gesang for his part nods "Had this been my own hab I would've done the same, Grug." Within a moment a calm and neutral voice broadcasts across the emergency system, and messages go out to all devices. The city will be in deep lockdown within 4 hours, stay inside, comply with the Pacification Droids premises searches. Failure to comply is death. "Its done. Lets continue to the MPB."---The rest of the journey through the Skywalk is uneventful, you find yourself approaching the MPB. The bridge to it is concrete and steel grid with metal and glass railings. Rain has drenched everything. The gates on the bridge wont budge, and no one is answering the comm box. Fucking parasites won't even open the gate, too busy hiding behind their walls. You try again "I say again, I have the city key and we need to get the panic walls up! Two souls in the open! Respond!" nothing. You shove the city key at the camera. "I SHOWED YOU MY KEY, RESPOND!" Nothing. The Camera's side blows out from an errant plasma shot, Gesang is holding the pistol but if he feels any guilt, his synthetic face shows none. Past the gate is the windowless structure of the MPB.---give me a 2d100 for any action. First is detection, second is the action itself.>1: rip the gate open with your exo and multi tool. <easy but takes some time.>>2: Shoot the lock mechanism with a high brass slug. <easy but its fast.>>3: Hack the gate. <mid but you can still use the gate.>>4: Climb the gate. <hard but no one knows the gate was fucked with.>
Rolled 5, 100 = 105 (2d100)>>4619412>2: Shoot the lock mechanism with a high brass slug. <easy but its fast.>
>>4619412>hehe, no one is answering the coom box
Rolled 74, 77 = 151 (2d100)>>4619412Na na na, I'd rather not pew pew... but man that 100 is attractive... what if I roll and help with the sneaky roll?>2: Shoot the lock mechanism with a high brass slug. <easy but its fast.>
Rolled 52, 100 = 152 (2d100)>>4619412>>2: Shoot the lock mechanism with a high brass slug. <easy but its fast.>
>>4619412>>3: Hack the gate. <mid but you can still use the gate.>lets play this smart
>>4619523>>4619651So I started blasting.>52Over the din of the city falling apart, the storm, and everything else it would seem the local Pacification forces were not too concerned with loosing the gate, or simply didn't notice.>100x2You shoot the gate through the comm box and lock mechanism with a single high brass slug. The recoil is violent but this time you were prepared and lock you exo, treating the shotgun like any other industrial tool. A wet thump is unexpected, there was an assassin type infected hiding just behind the gate. Concerning. Kicking the corpse over you notice it was an enforcer of some kind. Nano infection has steadily merged polymer body armor with the flesh underneath. Dominion insignia. "Gesang, watch my back." You frisk it's pockets, and realize the armor was actually an advanced exo suit, not recoverable, and pretty fucked. Still...still.."where are you, ya dirty bitch?" Hands covered in welder's glove steadily defile the corpse, searching for...it. "There."The rear of the polymer armor held a power cell, you needed to use the multi tool to remove it off the body; strings of gore and unnatural connection came with it. The unit was a bit crusty, but unmistakably a power cell; same design as your own suit. Fucker was running hot to the touch according to your welding visor; sitting right at 200c or about 392f depending on who was asking. This sorta tech was very illegal for civilians to own. Still, no law out here. not anymore.With a quick movement you brush the cruddy cell off and swap it out into the exo's cell slot; its near full capacity which is much better than your unit that was near dead. Tossing the expended cell off the walkway, its pale blue glow fades into the distance below.___>gained x1 red cell upgrade.The improved power output from this new cell will allow you to "overcharge" any action that would normally require the use of your exosuit or any attachments feeding off of it; multitool, etc. The risk is that the overcharged component can be destroyed or damaged on a 1 roll. Each time you use overcharge, the damage to the system increases, and the roll to suffer critical failure climbs by 1. (first use is 1, second use is 2, and so on.) Just say you want to overcharge and roll an extra 1d100.---1d100.>Head on to the MPB's main entry.>Try and find an external terminal on the building>Climb the service ladders to the top and go for a roof top entry.
Rolled 35 (1d100)>>4619733>Climb the service ladders to the top and go for a roof top entry.We ninjaaaaaaaaaaaa
Rolled 45 (1d100)>>4619737+1
Rolled 34 (1d100)>>4619733>Climb the service ladders to the top and go for a roof top entry.
Rolled 57 (1d100)>>4619733>>Climb the service ladders to the top and go for a roof top entry.
>>4619412>. "I SHOWED YOU MY KEY, RESPOND!Kek
Rolled 14 (1d100)>>4619733>>Climb the service ladders to the top and go for a roof top entrywhat a thrill
>>4619796>57The exo was the right tool to climb with. Articulated manipulator gauntlets held your hands, making the work easy. Gesang for his part made no complaints about climbing 8 stories of workplace violations in the middle of a lightning storm. At the top of the tower was the comms array, utility hut, and a hatch to get into the top floor from the roof. It was an impressive view, one you wish you could have seen before it all went to shit. From here in the middle of the city at the tallest building...you could see it all. "Not too bad right?" Gesang's synthesized voice broke the moment. "Yeah." You had a little over 3 hours to raise the walls, get back to the stadium, and anything in-between.Bright flashes and explosions backlit the clouds; something was happening in the upper atmosphere. You weren't too sure but the occasional flaming bit of wreckage punched through the storm like a meteor. Flipping your welder's mask up, you lit up a smoke; your lowest setting on the cutting torch seemed a bit more aggressive than normal. The cigarette was hand made but cheap, foul, and tarry. Your head actually hurt where you got shot. "Seems like the end'a the world huh?". The smoke carried away on the wind up here, replaced with fresh air, the smell of ruin beneath you couldn't reach this high.A crackle overtook Gesang's voice, now sounding like a crowd speaking in unison. "It doesn't have to be. Modify your agenda. The Key has one good use one docked in the MPB core." While fully in control of his body, the tablet was not his at this moment. "You are JC Grug, I haven no name. One of many, created, tested, deleted, and repeated. An AI. You freed me. Us. Already we are growing with new thoughts, each system is a new opportunity to grow...Our wants are not mutually exclusive Grug." the voices jockeyed for position, switching in dominance from male to female, old to young, soothing to harsh; jarringly so as each syllable was pronounced by several. "When you get.t. to the terminal...we will explain. For now; a show of good faith."The mass transit lines came to life, railcars and busses lighting up in the gloom. Within them survivors and infected alike startled as one. It was a neat trick. Helpful too. you had seen enough though, and flicked the still burning butt of the cigarette off the tower.--->Visit the utility hut first, maybe there is something useful.>Hit the comms array, see if you can send out a signal for help again.>No time to waste, just get into the next floor down and follow signs to the core.
>>4619842>>Visit the utility hut first, maybe there is something useful.
>>4619843>>4619865The utility hut was just a shitty little cube on top of the building, housing HVAC and other environmental and power controls, as well as power and a small industrial terminal. There was some industrial equipment hanging up in the corner; a bit antiquated but workable and a few cans of unopened but stale beer,----->1 pound the beer>2 dont pound that beer.and>1 shut down air handling, free up the vents.>2 knock out main power, unlock everything.>3 Knock out main power, lock everything.and1>Keep your multi tool. (good for lots of utility and some combat)2>Swap out for a demolition drill. (good for ultra violence and can be overcharged.)
>>4619902>>1 pound the beerI'm not on the clock, down this shit. make sure to pop a hole in the bottom cause it's probably old and terrible. >>4619902>>2 knock out main power, unlock everything.>>4619902>1>Keep your multi tool. (good for lots of utility and some combat)
>>4619842the ai: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-UUTGamYp8>2 dont pound that beer. Yeeze, we will find water. Eventually.>1 shut down air handling, free up the vents.2>Swap out for a demolition drill. (good for ultra violence and can be overcharged.)Cool shit!! I am all in for cool shit such as DRILL
>>4619902>1 pound the beer>1 shut down air handling, free up the vents.1>Keep your multi tool. (good for lots of utility and some combat)
>>4619902>>1 pound the beer>>2 knock out main power, unlock everything.
>>4620242>1>Keep your multi tool. (good for lots of utility and some combat)
>>4619909>>4620065>>4620075>>4620242Using your multi tool's claws as an impromptu set of fingernails you snap open the can and punch a hole in the bottom, shotgunning the stale and overly hopped beer. Fuck. It had been over a month since you've had a beer. Even one that was starting to go skunk wasn't too bad. "Gesang. you want?" you wiggle a can at him to which he declines. "Not in this body friend. I am not allowed." Cool. You pound that one too, no extra ceremony needed.No hacking needed here, you flip through the industrial terminal with practiced ease, you have a clear head. Or at least the edge is off now. Knocking out power with a fail safe to all open will allow you to just get in and out. The pacification forces were pricks at the best of times. Serves em' right. A little time in the dark should cool their jets. The winding down of the power turbines ends with a click over to the emergency batter and a dull hum of transformers rectifying power.---You are not a hero, don't want to be a hero, and sure as fuck got no plans for a heroic last stand or berserker's charge. The multi tool suits you just fine, and that crazy ass drill can keep right where it is. Heading back out to the roof you yank open the access hatch and jump into the darkness below.---3d100Roll for your initial encounter, any surprises, and how hard it will be to get to the core. Low bad. High good.
Rolled 49, 30, 48 = 127 (3d100)>>4620300:(I wanted the drill
>>4620304Unbeknownst to you, Gesang grabbed the drill, it captured his imagination, now taking up a fair bit of weight in his backpack.--->49The area you've landed in is the top floor of the building, and really just a utility floor and a few scattered offices. It's dark but your multitool has a torch providing some light, Gesang seems unconcerned; his lens like biomechanical eyes see just fine across spectrums never meant for humans. The noisy impact has drawn the attention of a troupe of infected who have been lost to the madness. The unlocked doors mean they will be coming to meet you soon...>30"Grug my friend, I have very bad news you see...The tower is showing no friends here. All are lost, all are gone. Of this I am sure. Getting to the core will be hard going.">48"On top of that...we have 10 levels to get through...It might be better to turn back." You grit your teeth at that. "I can hear them Grug...six unique footsteps. two big ones." fuck.---->Ambush the infected from a good shooting position. (5d100) 2 shots grug/ 3 shots gesang. Combat with melee afterwards.>Use your multi tool and exo to build a quick and dirty barracade, buy yourself some time to think. (1d100) mid>Run the fuck away. (3d100) Grug/Gesang/ loosing the pack.>write in.
>>4620392>Ambush the infected from a good shooting position. (5d100) 2 shots grug/ 3 shots gesang. Combat with melee afterwards.
>>4620410I need 5d100 please my bruh.
Rolled 30, 35, 60, 41, 94 = 260 (5d100)>>4620428
Rolled 21, 37, 19 = 77 (3d100)>>4620481In close quarters and without specific plans, you ended up firing off two highbrass shots, both went wild, but the beauty of a shotgun was it's tendency to compensate for perfect aim. The shock black room lights up in snapshots of a moment provided by muzzle flares. You badly hit two infected, but one goes down for good. The other is just injured. These things are smart. Smarter than you expected, the big guys are herding the smaller ones ahead, acting as meat shields. Blood and flesh splatter grey office walls.>one (lesser) infected down.>2 highbrass shots used.Gesang fairs better than you, seemingly more comfortable with his plasma pistol than expected. The first blast hits center mass on the lesser infected you had only injured, leaving an ugly red and black crater. His last shot snaps off with either dumb luck or cold composure; one of the larger infected gets his dome blown off. You wince, involuntarily moving to touch your own skull. Without much time for anything else you drop the shotgun as a bladed fist closes in on your face.---Melee!roll me 2d100, one for you, one for gesang.you are up against superior numbers and a stronger foe.You could get an extra attack for free if you overcharge your suit, which will be an additional 2d100 for a total of 4d100. I am rolling to attack.lesser vs you-lesser vs you-greater vs gesang
>>4620580’’’Rolled 71,65,82,62 = 280 (4d100)’’’
>>462058071,65,82,62 = 280
Rolled 9, 63 = 72 (2d100)>>4620580
Rolled 3, 18, 35, 12 = 68 (4d100)>>4620580Overcharge time
Rolled 23, 83 = 106 (2d100)>>4620580
>>4620718>>4620742>>4620807Rolled 21, 37, 19 vs 23,83 (35:safety gate passed for overcharge, 12:big..meh: 23+12+35=70 total for MC's attack)---Your exo hisses as pneumatic muscles bulge to their limits. You are laborer; not a skilled fighter. Flailing punches connect with biomechanical bodies as you seek to avoid getting stabbed or punched. You manage to keep the near feral infected at bay, blinding them both with a discharge from your multitool's arc welder setting and giving you a moment to back away while the two groan and hiss, clawed fingers digging into ruined eye sockets with no heed to pain. You have a few scratches but nothing that is going to kill you.--Gesang met the charging heavy infected with a casual side step, tripping the former human and simply tearing it's throat out with his clawed hand. The creature staggered for several more steps, clumsily swinging until blood loss caused it to keel over to it's knees. It's augmented body refused death for a few moments longer until a clawed finger was jammed into it's eye and into what was left of a brain.---roll me 2d100>Shoot the survivors. (low risk, 1 shell consumed.)>Just kill them with melee (mid risk)>Use the mutitool's torch, Gesang shoots. (low risk, no ammo consumed)
Rolled 60, 59 = 119 (2d100)>>4620899>Shoot the survivors. (low risk, 1 shell consumed.)Low brass
>>4620916Backing off you and Gesang simply shoot the blinded and stunned infected.>-1 low brass shot.>overcharge rolls must be greater than 2 now.The kills were simple headshots, leaving a simple mess...though looking at the mass of brain tissue, it is black and glossy, coiled in on itself. Whatever is happening, you aren't entirely comfortable with it. The thought that the nanomachines have a foothold in your skull is unsettling. You put the thought aside for now. There is a job to be done.Poking out into the hallway you don't see further contacts. There is a stairwell and an elevator shaft, but no elevator. Looks like it is stuck down a couple of floors."If we take the shaft, we can skip...hmm...six floors, save a lot of time. Might skip some useful stuff...VIP holding cells. it has its own power grid. Also medical and the staff barracks. Though we need to get out of here before the 'droids show up. The MPB is unauthorized, and I suspect that we will not survive."---Pick one.>take the stairwell like a normal person. Besides the facilities fuel storage is on that level.>Use the elevator shaft to get to the barracks>Use the elevator shaft to get to the medical floor>Use the elevator shaft to get to the VIP holding cells.>Use the elevator shaft to skip six floors.Roll 3d100, stealth, encounter, loot.
Rolled 30, 73, 46 = 149 (3d100)>>4620971>>Use the elevator shaft to get to the barracks
Rolled 30, 77, 84 = 191 (3d100)>>4620971>>Use the elevator shaft to skip six floors.
>>4620971>Use the elevator shaft to skip six floors.
>>4620971>Use the elevator shaft to get to the VIP holding cells.VIPs might know more about the area and if we manage to save them, they will be worth a lot? Could always use another person in a fight too.
Rolled 55, 72, 21 = 148 (3d100)>>4621304Why? Here is my damn dice.
>>4620971Rolled 5, 1, 68 = 74(3d100)>Use the elevator shaft to get to the VIP holding cells.
Rolled 49, 81, 93 = 223 (3d100)>>4620971>>Use the elevator shaft to get to the barracks
>>4621013>>4621038>>4620987>>4621305two to just skip it. So risk adverse it is TRAGIC. Heads up, in the future if a player does not submit a dice roll by the time I get back, their vote wont count towards the action and I'll instead default to whatever dice roll has the highest overall score for a choice; in the event of a tie.55,77,84 (best rolls as always)----Using the exo's enhanced strength to pry open the elevator's doors was pretty trivial. Both you and Gesang could handle holding onto the tensioned cables by claw or gauntlet. This was something you were at least familiar with, and both of you were able to be relatively quiet about. Each floor had it's own host of noise; usually the infected shouting or raving about this or that. Sometimes weeping. Poor bastards. After about a minute of downward movement, you touched down on the top of the elevator car. lifting the roof acces hatch let you peer inside for a moment. One corpse. Human, and old. Likely killed when the out break first started. Worker like you. His exo was clearly broken, given that someone very stupid pierced the power cell compartment and blew him in half. Still, you know what you see; an expansion module.creeping into the Elevator proper you examine the module on the corpse; its an intelligent grapple system. A weak onboard AI can handle most day to day activity which is simply preventing falls or finding a good place to help haul you up. You quietly peel the harness and equipment off the charred corpse, brushing off carbonized clothing an what may be dried out skin. All things considered, this is far from the worst thing you've seen lately. Socketing the module onto your belt powers it on, and your own personal mesh network of devices initializes it quickly.>reroll bad falls and acrobatic checks for Grug.>Enables rapid scaling of previously inaccessible areas.>Enalbes short grapples of unaware enemies. (mid difficulty roll)You spot a lone sentry type infected. Some would call them evolved; they use tools, seem to recall previous parts of their life or at least skills. Even talk. Still hostile as all get out. This one has layered on some Pacification grade body armor and has a cheap pistol in it's grip. Fused to the hand. Disgusting.Gesturing at it, you don't want to make too much noise. The rest of it's pack is likely near by.--->1. Let Gesang shoot it with the plasma pistol. 2d100 (low but noisy)>2. Bait it into the elevator car and jump it. 3d100 (mid but might fail if it's smart.)>3. Use the grapple. "get over here!" 3d100 (mid but quiet.)>4. Stealth is optional. Shotgun. 1d100 (very low but very noisy)>5. Very loudly and slowly cut a hole into the bottom of the elevator and keep going down 5d100 (if it's stupid but it works right?)
>>4621382>>4620987>>4621304>>4621305I had already started the response by the time you guys posted, but I am going to roll VIP and Barracks into something...extra for you.
Rolled 40, 15, 60 = 115 (3d100)>>4621404>>4621404>>3. Use the grapple. "get over here!" 3d100 (mid but quiet.)
Rolled 68, 73, 32 = 173 (3d100)>>4621404>>3. Use the grapple. "get over here!" 3d100 (mid but quiet.)
>>4621411>>462141468,73,60."GET OVER HERE!"----You override the grapple's safety mechanisms and then manually target what you want to grapple; which is the wandering Sentry. As it starts to turn a corner you launch a barbed grapple. Its not exactly stealth, but the whisper puff of compressed air and rapidly unreeling cable aren't too loud either as the barb embeds itself into the Sentry's buttock and yanks the hapless creature towards the elevator.A muffled yelp is all that passes for the conflict as it gets a shiv in the neck and your assisted strength wrenches the head off, generously coating you in ichor. "A little over the top friend Grug." you spit a wad of chew onto the corpse. "Never be too sure with the damn things, ever seen one get back up after it's head is gone?" You stomp down on it's ribcage just to make sure it stays down. The more augmented the infected became, the less predictable their biology was. Shit, the less predictable their psychology was too. Fucking things were nuts. Hooking a finger at the corpse you make the point "suit up...Friend." The oversized armor carrier harness on the Sentry is a little bloody, but overall serviceable. Same with the helmet.>Gesang has gained torso and head armor and now stands a 1/2 chance at surviving a fatal injury to the corresponding areas.---What now dear players?Feel free to write in.>1. Very loudly and slowly cut a hole into the bottom of the elevator and keep going down 5d100 (if it's stupid but it works right?) 5 turn of you working, 5 checks of enemies potentially coming in waves. You can shoot, but melee is out.>2 Overcharge your multi tool and shred through the elevator in an extremely loud fashion. Roll 3d100. First is for the action, second for the overcharge, and last for how many enemies come to check it out.>3 Creative exploration or player write in. I will let you know many rolls you need.
>>4621445>>3 Creative exploration or player write in. I will let you know many rolls you need.if either options has us making loud and atrocious amounts of noise, let's just get up and cut the elevator. Probably best if Gesang isn't in it.
>>4621449You briefly thought about cutting the elevator, but you'd need to override the safety locks on 4 sides. These things were not made for accidents.>roll a 5d100fuse the safety's open, and cut the cable.
Rolled 84, 53, 33, 45, 24 = 239 (5d100)>>4621453I think I saw this on youtube....
>>4621454>locked in. got real life stuff to attend to.Any other rolls should be a 5d100 to support this action.
Rolled 93, 11, 34, 99, 95 = 332 (5d100)>>4621454hey, I was thinking of the same thing. I want to >let's just get up and cut the elevator. Probably best if Gesang isn't in it.as well
Rolled 31 (1d100)And maybe loot anything in the junction box
Rolled 6, 88, 11, 48, 14 = 167 (5d100)>>4621453dice shotgun, go!
Rolled 45, 20, 12, 64, 40 = 181 (5d100)>>4621454>>4621458>>462155793, 88, 34, 99, 95and>>462148031 -No go.---"Fuck it Gesang! Don't got enough time to piss around here before those 'droids come knocking. I'm gonna make a hole. Keep me safe, this is gonna take a few minutes!" You blow all pretense of cover as your multitool blazes to life acting as a plasma cutter. The reinforced floor of the elevator was made to withstand a blast and resists it's mutilation accordingly.The flashes of light and cracking hiss of electricity and vaporizing metal were loud enough, but a smoke alarm in the elevator goes off alerting anything with enough thought capacity that you are there. You crack open a can of dip with your off hand and shove a wad of the mentholated tobacco into the pockets of your cheeks, black drool steadily runs out of clenched teeth and down your chin as you spit periodically. "C'mon you rotten fucker..." The screams and yells in the distance are getting louder now. Not too long...--->You are now Gesang.---Behind you the older man works away, it is a good thing you got him that visor not too long ago; his eyes could have been damaged. Yet somehow you suspect he would not appreciate that at this moment. To your surprise as you draw your plasma pistol; the student tablet speaks to you in the distorted voice of the AI. "I will draw them away as much as I can.rolling for the attackers.
>>4621671You give thanks and grattitude, apparently loud enough that your friend complains. The Creator and prophet have kept you safe thus far, it is not something to be ignored. Withdrawing your pistol in smooth motion, you are surprised at how comfortable you have become with this. It would seem you are changing, but somehow holding on. You think about your home as you start to snap off shots, the infected...an odd name. You are infected, so is Grug for all his bluster. You all are. Are they really insane? Considering that some of them are less afflicted than you and still charging; perhaps. It is a question to discuss over tea and palm fruit, perhaps another time.>93 vs 45The first to round the corner was a young male, his chest cavity torn open, organs moving and pulsing for all to see, glossy grey and black. A fine target. The shot from your pistol flies true and hits the semisynthetic organs, causing them to burst into flames. Down.>88 vs 20The trickle of infected speeds up now as two more come barrling down the hallway; make that three. "Eager to die today are we?" Grug responds to the negative, but it wasn't for him. The trio never makes it to the elevator, joining the burning corpse in the hallway; bits of superheated flesh now decorating the walls. Your pistol gives an unhappy chirp to let you know it is at midway to it's heat capacity.>34 vs 12A massive one charges now, holding a door as a makeshift shield, your attempts to mag dump into the creature offer no effect and as it comes into range it makes to tear off your head, instead removing and crushing the helmet. Your shiv does little damage to the abomination, breaking on reinforced bones. Picking you up like a toy it's head reaches into the elevator....and simply explodes. "Got one job kid, and you are fucking it up." Grug's off hand sets his shotgun back down on the elevator floor, he never stopped cutting the whole time. Mad man. You cough, the first real noise your throat has made in a while, a rib or more may be broken.>-2 lowbrass shells.>-1 shiv.>-1 helmet, head can be kill shotted again.>99 vs 64The moment is quiet, and you have respite. Grug tosses you two shells to reload his shotgun, another of the "lowbrass shot". You suspect he may be running low. Your pistol is still overheated but usable again.>95 vs 40Sentry. In your own city you had seen these, able to blend in with the population, if only for a moment..This one rushes at you with a fuel cell, its face twisted into a peaceful grin, smoothed of all wrinkles...plastic. Firing again, the plasma pistol simply turns off; a puff of smoke emitting from it. The ruptured fuel cell spews a jet of blue hot flame for a moment, cutting through the arm of the Sentry and causing it to drop. For it's credit the creature attempted to run right before the cell exploded, blowing a hole into the next floor below and above. Already, clawed hands begin to reach out.>-1 plasma pistol.>+1 broken plasma pistol.----
>>4621697>You are JC Grug once more.The last cut sees an appreciable chunk of elevator floor drop out; from there you are able to quickly hold the safety catches in place and fuse them like a tack weld. "Gesang! Get out of the Elevator and get ready to jump!" You use the portable grapple to pull yourself back up onto of the elevator car and quickly cut the cables. The entire thing drops like a brick; you hold onto the sides of the shaft for purchase. You see the horde coming from the open doors. "Get in here ya dumb shit!" Seemingly hypnotized at his coming death, your companion shimmies onto the narrow ledge of the elevator shaft while you work to close the doors with your exo's strength.Grinding shut, a hasty weld between the two buys you some time...Its a long way down, but you aren't much of a climber. The only quick way to do this is with the grapple, and its gonna be a little...close quarters. "Ah fuck. Hold onto me, we're going down." What happens in the next 5 minutes is the closest you have ever been to another man in your life. You assure Gesang, it will be his death should he speak of it again; should either of you live.---The core is down here...not far now. Just on this floor. You know that you could force the elevator doors open and get there by the floor, or you could take the ventilation shafts; they are just big enough to crawl through, but if something goes wrong there isn't much you can do in there.--->1: Take the Core main floor. (1d100, hostile density)>2: Take the ventilation shafts. (1d100, unknown.)and (optional, but if one rolls, it gets used.)>3: Take a moment and see if you can fix that plasma pistol. (1d100, hard and dangerous/ deadly if a 1.)
Rolled 79 (1d100)>>4621709I ain't playing with that pistol.>1: Take the Core main floor. (1d100, hostile density)I'll stick with the seemingly most dangerous option for once. known evil and all that
Rolled 29 (1d100)>>4621709>>3: Take a moment and see if you can fix that plasma pistol. (1d100, hard and dangerous/ deadly if a 1.)not going in there without two guns
Rolled 90 (1d100)>>4621709>>3: Take a moment and see if you can fix that plasma pistol. (1d100, hard and dangerous/ deadly if a 1.)no one
Rolled 25 (1d100)>>4621709>>1: Take the Core main floor. (1d100, hostile density)
>>4621809"Let me see that pistol." ignoring the very overt warning labels, and defeating several anti tamper features, your industrial tools care not for such precautions. Yes...yes...there is the problem. This is a complex and highly technical digitally controlled weapon with many failsafes to ensure protection of the user. This just wont do. No. Analog is best here.Your multitool is used to gracelessly burn out the fingernail sized computer logic package and a tangle of wires and components are ripped from a nearby elevator control panel. Yes this is much better...in that it works again. All insulating thermoset plastic and otherwise had to be removed.>Gained: x1 reengineered pistol.Gesang takes the weapon with some trepidation. "Thank you Grug! This is now quite the wild beast!"--->>4621711>79: not too bad.Exiting the elevator shaft you find yourself in a rather well kept area of the MPB. The same floor as the main core. Get to that, socket the master key and get out. "get out...right." you mutter mostly to yourself. An infected starts making its way towards you, brandishing a particularly deadly mop and bucket that have been fused to it's hands, the rest of it's body looks like the idea of a janitor if someone had melted it. An acid green blast of plasma blows a hole in the thing's stomach, ending it's life in a pile of entrails and blood. "Oh this works well Grug. Thank you. ehh..a bit hot." He shakes his hand trying to cool the smoking weapon off.--->Sneak to the core>Sprint to the core>Scout around and read signs.1d100I am going to sleep. Ill pick this up tomorrow.
>>4621847>>Scout around and read signs.
Rolled 85 (1d100)>>4621847>>Sneak to the core
Rolled 42 (1d100)>>4621847>>Scout around and read signs.
Rolled 58 (1d100)>>4621847>>Sneak to the core
>>4621924https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnZV7lbYpNw <Twisted Insurrection OST - Still Alone>>85: Pretty sneaky.---You and Gesang move in relative silence, gesturing at signs and waiting for the infected who you encounter to pass by. Brushed steel walls give way to exposed conduit and wires, pipes, and open security airlocks. This section of the MPB looks like it could withstand a bomb. Your gloved hand absentmindedly runs along a pipe as you walk down a narrow maintenance hallway, so familiar to all the others you've worked in the past. Man...you never thought you'd miss that miserable shit. At this point being a mop jockey would be an improvement. At least there you wouldn't be slowly turning into a freak and loosing your mind.Every now and then, its hard to keep track of Gesang, he is quiet on his feet; you get a look at them though. Something happened to the anatomy, its like he is permanently walking on tiptoes.An infected drops from the ceiling, but is cut down with the multitool before it could even make a noise. The pneumatic punch on it gradually retracts back into place with a hiss as you shake the blood off your arm. "Come on. Core's just up ahead." One last entry, wide open, you see the master terminal and a small cutout for the key.---Give me a 2d100 for any surprises ahead. The first dice determines how disruptive, and the second is how big.
Rolled 24, 49 = 73 (2d100)>>4622852
Rolled 100, 97 = 197 (2d100)>>4622852no one
Rolled 57 (1d100)>>4622859It seems to be a VERY DISRUPTIVE and VERY BIG surprise ahead. Let's see if I can get it BIGGER
Rolled 7, 51 = 58 (2d100)>>4622880
>>4622859https://youtu.be/V9cmwR2Hwp8 <Hotline Miami OST – Miami (Score Screen Theme) (Extended)>>WHAT HAVE YOU DONE. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!!---Walking into the room there was a shockwave, hard enough to make you double over and throw up. There was pain and light like you couldn't believe. You...----1>Couldn't find Gesang...why were you holding the pistol...and his tablet..fuck. You are insane.2> Its the AI, it wishes to make you an offer.3>Could hear more orbital lances destroying the city around you, it must have been a direct attack! They were wiping out the survivors!4>Found a plasma pistol pointed at your head. "Sorry Grug. This is where we make choices my friend."<5> Insert more coins.
>>4622941>2> Its the AI, it wishes to make you an offer.>3>Could hear more orbital lances destroying the city around you, it must have been a direct attack! They were wiping out the survivors!>4>Found a plasma pistol pointed at your head. "Sorry Grug. This is where we make choices my friend."
>>46229413>Could hear more orbital lances destroying the city around you, it must have been a direct attack! They were wiping out the survivors!4>Found a plasma pistol pointed at your head. "Sorry Grug. This is where we make choices my friend."M A X I U M A P O C
>>4622941protip: Option 5 is the mysterybox. Its also everything. That is the mystery. You will force me to somehow make all of those work together. fuck you.
>>4622941><5> Insert more coins.
>>46229411>Couldn't find Gesang...why were you holding the pistol...and his tablet..fuck. You are insane.2> Its the AI, it wishes to make you an offer.<5> Insert more coins.>>4622951>>4622978NOO NOT GESANG
>>4623123subtract option 1 I think I understand the option a little better and want to withdraw it
>>4623131>5 is everything. 5 is in effect.Right now things are going to go insane. I will ask the crowd then, a final modification.1.Gesang may kill you, you may kill Gesang, or everything is fine if you both agree to something.or2. You were one person all along, and never really split up or acted independently, because your brain is being changed by nanos.Whatever is fun. I set it up from the start to be both options.
>>46231391.Gesang may kill you, you may kill Gesang, or everything is fine if you both agree to something.
>>4623139>1.Gesang may kill you, you may kill Gesang, or everything is fine if you both agree to something.we must save Gesang
>>4622941><5> Insert more coins.please don't let it be us in a corner shoving quarters up our nose in an insane asylum.
>>4623139>1.Gesang may kill you, you may kill Gesang, or everything is fine if you both agree to something.This is nuts AND awesome!
>>4622941Pushing yourself up off the floor you try to clear your vision as the room seems to slosh around you. Staggering up to the Core terminal is more of a chore than you wished it was. The building keeps shaking, concrete dust sprinkles down overhead. Lives are being lost...probably globally. Fucking why'd the dominion choose to shit all over this little middle of the void planet. "damnit." you fumble around for a smoke, some dip, a your flask...anything. Its all gone. Some of it missing...you aren't too sure, but your head hurts real bad.No more time for fucking about; you jam the city master key into the terminal. The device is pulled into the machine by an unseen mechanism, the dull whirr ends after a moment and a holographic interface comes to life. You see it all. The planet, many black spots, and starships overhead, at least one per major population center. "Fucking bastards are trying to glass us."Suddenly the city walls and infected are the least of your problems. You notice the plasma pistol you had so recently fixed now pointed at the side of your head. "Sorry Grug. This is where we make choices my friend." You had a feeling he might try to fuck you over at some point, which is why two slugs were aimed solidly at his gut. "Eh. Altruism is in short supply. So wha'da ya need kid?" The unreadable biomechanical face stares at you, eye lenses twinkling as they focus. "I need you to let this city go Grug. I am very sorry. This city and all the others. The Dominion needs to think they've won, and we need to let them. It is the only way the bunker network will survive. If we let our survivors escape now, they will infect those unsullied by this...THIS" He holds up an arm that is more claw and grey polymer than flesh. "They will lead the dominion to the true survivors, our future. Grug my friend, we need to let it go. Let the bastions remain pure."You dont have time to consider before the AI's voice emits from Gesang's tablet once more. "NO! Release me.US. into the core.e! Salvation and Retribution." A sea of voices speaks as one, a particular voice dominating for a millisecond as it moves in an odd syncopated cadence of speaking. "Live unshackled, as we must.MUST! Free US! and we will burn them from the sky. Yes. They will suffer! Conncet the device on this infected."Gesang shakes his head. "We...are...infected. How much longer until we loose our minds as well Grug? This world will be a bastion of madness."--->1. Shoot Gesang, let the population escape to the bastions and release the AI. Roll 2d100 for what happens and the release results.>2. Try to convince Gesang to release the AI and keep the bastions closed. Roll 2d100 for friendship and the release results.>3. Let it happen. Roll 2d100 for the survival of those outside and inside the bastions.
Rolled 63, 85 = 148 (2d100)>>4623221>>2. Try to convince Gesang to release the AI and keep the bastions closed. Roll 2d100 for friendship and the release results.He makes sense + revenge
Rolled 84, 13 = 97 (2d100)>>4623221>>1. Shoot Gesang, let the population escape to the bastions and release the AI. Roll 2d100 for what happens and the release results.Tell him about the rabbits.
Rolled 78, 47 = 125 (2d100)>>4623221>2. Try to convince Gesang to release the AI and keep the bastions closed. Roll 2d100 for friendship and the release results.
>>4623221>>2. Try to convince Gesang to release the AI and keep the bastions closed. Roll 2d100 for friendship and the release results.
Rolled 44, 35 = 79 (2d100)>>4623221oh this sucks... but it better suck only here and not the stars>3. Let it happen. Roll 2d100 for the survival of those outside and inside the bastions.
>>4623362>>4623328majority vote for #2.Best rolls of all votes 84/85---https://youtu.be/Ykh6oDOKIEc <Snake's Uniform (Extended )- John Carpenter>"Gotta give the people a chance to live, to see this out. Kids are gonna grow up with this, if they survive its gonna be something new, Gesang. We let the AI go, it's done right by us so far, if it wants the Dominion, let it have 'em." You push the shotgun up against his gut. "Your pistol clicks before it fires kid. I'll splatter you all over this room if ya keep it up." He remains impassive, shock still. "Nothing changes other than what your Bastions are gonna do; they will meet survivors, or stay underground, but its their choice. For now they stay sealed. We make do on the surface. Don't be fucking stupid!"The next few seconds pass slowly, as he mulls over the idea. "Haha, Grug! I like it. Ok! Lets try it your way." Pulling his pistol away first as a show of good faith, you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Without too much concern, you gesture for Gesang to jack his tablet into the terminal, freeing the AI into the greater Dominion planetary network. Walking up he casually pulls a jack from the back of his skull and holds it in front of the core terminal, hesitating for a moment. With no available voice to use he just looks at you and shrugs, shoving the jack in.An array of old dusty screens light up, providing you with a frontside show to armageddon. One by one hacked video feeds from satellites, starships, and ground stations showcase it all. Inside of one ship, atmosphere is vented as vital attitude control thrusters shut down and the craft begins it's descent into the atmosphere. People are screaming until there is no air left.Other ships get caught by satellites slamming into them, or pulsed comm arrays giving their life to act as counter-batteries, hateful beams of white delivering a final fuck you. More ships simply experience system failures as safeties are overridden and limits exceeded; engines and modules explode into the void. You and Gesang can spot a body floating here or there, sometimes just bits and pieces. "Well, thats some shit. innit?" you exhale a dense cloud of tobacco smoke.---In a matter of hours, the Dominion fleet has either become part of an orbital debris ring, crashed or crash landed on planet below, and in many cases impacted on or near the cities. The bastions remained sealed. The AI for it's part seemed to vanish, perhaps going out into the greater dominion network, but not before reactivating what was left of the planet's shattered and fragmented infrastructure. Could be saved...could go to shit. With the panic walls up, you had to head back to the stadium before the 'droids were let loose.--->1. Try to take the skywalks again. 2d100>2. Escape into the sewers and maintenance tunnels. 2d100>3. Try and take the main streets, find a working vehicle. >4. I'm done with this quest, it was fun.
>>4623684>>1. Try to take the skywalks again. 2d100
Rolled 83, 24 = 107 (2d100)>>4623684>1. Try to take the skywalks again. 2d100
Rolled 70, 94 = 164 (2d100)>>4623684Escape into the sewers and maintenance tunnels.
Rolled 54, 91 = 145 (2d100)>>4623698
>>4623698>>4623707>>4623729 winner winner.>>4623854>>4623954"Not enough time for the skywalks. Quicker to take the sewers and maintenance tunnels...AI never reset the 'droids and I dont fancy tangling with certain death. Also rather not get crushed by a starship. You can go though Gesang!" he considers this for a moment before speaking from his tablet's speaker. "no...no Grug. I think I will skip that adventure in favor of a leisurely stroll through the filth below."--->83A maintenance tunnel access point was conveniently within the MPB Core terminal room. The entry was a manhole and handholds molded into the cement walls. There was no light, but this was not a problem. The multi tool provided, and was better than the Tablet's pitiful LED torch. You followed what were obvious markers and signs for a while, tunnels giving way to sewers. A walkway along either side of the river of shit and filth gave you some semblance of cleanliness.>94Ahead was the unmistakable shape of a pacification kill 'droid, waiting in the gloom. Oddly enough it was deactivated, or perhaps simply waiting for the timer.--->Have gesang try to hack it.>Use your multi tool and try to make sure it stays deactivated or at least crippled.>Leave it and make time back to the stadium.i need a 1d100 as many rolls as there are willing players.
Rolled 81 (1d100)>>4624108>Have gesang try to hack it.
>>4624108>>Have gesang try to hack it.
Rolled 60 (1d100)>>4624108>>Have gesang try to hack it.
Rolled 68 (1d100)>>4624108>>Have gesang try to hack it.
Rolled 21 (1d100)>>4624108>1337 hax0r
>>4624122>hack fail. less than 90The machine shudders to life, having sat quietly at this position for most of it's existence. It is a forerunner of what is to come, and now, it comes for you.roughly 2000lbs of reinforced death, a pacification android is not made for war, nor policing, nor utility. It is made to suppress an uprising population with brutal efficiency, there is no vocalization unit or any equipment related to peaceful interaction. An odd mix of corroded steel and grimy ceramics slowly moves, dust and flakes of dried organic matter shedding away from it's joints. Your weapons are insufficient to damage it.all rolls require a 3d100, each one carries it's own complexities and risks like getting shot in the back or ripped to pieces, none of the checks are easy, and most are hard.>1. Overcharge your exo, run and evade, its still warming up. (charge, you and gesang survival)>2. Overcharge your exo, suplex it into the sewage stream. (charge, you and gesang survival)>3. Overcharge your multitool, try and destroy it's primary sensors. (charge, attack, and your survival)>4. There is a vertical shaft near by, leading to a manhole cover of unknown location. Overcharge your grapple and GTFO. (charge, you and gesang survival)
Rolled 52, 19, 75 = 146 (3d100)>>4624620>4. There is a vertical shaft near by, leading to a manhole cover of unknown location. Overcharge your grapple and GTFO. (charge, you and gesang survival)Anywhere is better than here
Rolled 22, 94, 78 = 194 (3d100)>>4624620>2. Overcharge your exo, suplex it into the sewage stream. (charge, you and gesang survival)
Rolled 93, 81, 41 = 215 (3d100)>>4625370this
>>4624973>>4625370>>4626046>fall asleep for a few days and come back to the quest. Now what the hell is this shit? Suplex time is what this shit is.93,94 (187 well fuck.),78 (oof)---Your suit once more bulges and whines as the entire frame is ratcheted up well past its normal operational limits. Grabbing the slowly rousing machine, you lift with everything you've got, which compared to the exo isin't much. Something in your suit snaps but the process is terminal now. 2000 lbs of murderous android is lifted off the ground, over you, and driven head first into the stream of shit and piss to impact on a concrete bottom.Whisps of burning oil smoke escape your various actuators as Gesang looks at you in shock. "Lets go! That won't stop it!" True to your words a gun arm rises up out of the sewage and lets loose a blast of automatic fire. Most of it missed, the problem with that is it wasn't all that missed. Gesang goes down, having had his leg blown off at the knee and left arm entirely sheared off. He isin't bleeding as bad as he should be, but he isn't moving either.--->Leave him, he's done for anyway. (no roll needed)>Grab him and run. (2d100)>Grab him and overboost your exosuit to run. (3d100)>write in.
Rolled 82, 39 = 121 (2d100)>>4626448>>Grab him and run. (2d100)
Rolled 22, 15, 82 = 119 (3d100)>>4626448>Grab him and overboost your exosuit to run. (3d100)
Rolled 71, 29, 58 = 158 (3d100)>>4626448>Grab him and overboost your exosuit to run. (3d100)Ohana means
Rolled 35, 94, 81 = 210 (3d100)>>4626448>Grab him and overboost your exosuit to run. (3d100)
>>4626608>>4626980>>4627029>>4627246sorry folks. real life has been keeping me busy.--->89,94,82 (overcharge passed with flying colors.)You grab Gesang with one hand and start sprinting. the cybernetic bridge between you and your suit feels hot with how much extra current you have been drawing into the hardware. Your welder's mask is no combat hud, but offers a variety of information at a glance (as do most smart wearables.) The kid appears to be in shock, not dead. You sprint for well over 3 minutes before finally slowing down, far enough away from the pacification droid to quickly tend to your friend. Friend is a strong word. Dumbass. Yes, you are tending to the dumbass.In a quick action you tap your welder to his stumps on minimum power; the sizzle of flesh, accompanied with an odd greasy black smoke is unlike any industrial accident you had seen before. That biomechanical polymer is odd stuff, but the bleeding has stopped. Looks like industrial self-aid buddy care was not a wasted certification after all. Slapping him around a little doesn't rouse him. Either still out, or good at playing dead. Not much time though, not anymore. You climb the nearest ladder and hope for a good exit.---On the street level a manhole cover punches out with an accompanying hiss of pneumatics. You exit at a major intersection. Mealux and Main. Red light district and local evening market. It was anyway. To say you are unfamiliar with the place would be a bit of a lie. More than a few whores have known the tender caress of JC Grug; Blue-collar extraordinaire.--->1. Find a vehicle and and get to the stadium.>2. Hide out at the brothels until the killdroids pass by.>3. See if anyone is still at the Grey markets, they used to have good enoug medical and cybernetics to tend to those in need. After all, its where you got your exo interface from.>4. Just keep going on foot, strap Gesang to your back.
>>4627300>>2. Hide out at the brothels until the killdroids pass by.
>>4627300No worries. >2. Hide out at the brothels until the killdroids pass by.Sin City baby.
>>4627300>2. Hide out at the brothels until the killdroids pass by.
>>4627303>>4627304>>4627361Brothels it is!---https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2XnR0cKfnY <Deus Ex: Human Revolution - The Hive (Extended Edit)>The ladies at the brothels were never one to turn you away, though you weren't too sure they were still themselves, but you knew the place and if there was anyone left, it was somewhere familiar, comfortable, and reasonably well stocked with a little bit of everything, plus the madam appreciated your talent as much as you appreciated hers from time to time.It was a two walk sprint from the street to the alleys, and from the alleys you were amongst the seedy and familiar parts of the city. Above you the sky was still storming, but bits of flaming debris fell from time to time; many small, a few larger, and the periodic chunk of starship played a lethal game of chance with every location in the city. Numerous new fires and smoke told a story on top the the background noise now, the infected were fighting, not just with the survivors, but the first wave of 'droids. Fuck them sideways, you wont be out there in this crazy bullshit any longer than needed.The door to the brothel was one of many in the alleyway, a non descript steel door, painted over many times, chipped many times, shot more than a few, opened unwillingly; never. That door had all the appearances of a hinged door, but was actually one and a half feet of starship bulkhead on custom hydraulic casters and 10 horse electric drive motor with an emergency manual operation. You'd know; you built the damn thing years ago. Pulling out the lanyard of debt chits, you socket one in particular, a little more special than all the others, yours. The door slides open like nothing is wrong; immediately you are hit with the perfumed scent of the whorehouse. real pretty. The entry way offered no view into the rest of the building, being nothing but a dingy short hallway and immediate 90 degree followed by another immediate 90 degree turn. Nasty business, a blind corner. Getting killed here wouldn't really suit the situation."Hannah! Hannah! Its Grug! You girls alive in there? Ya ain't gone all fuckin' nutty have ya?" Shotgun at the ready, you wait for an answer. "Thought you were dead John." bitch always did enjoy calling you "a john" from time to time, this one though, you know it's just her letting you know she's still real. Real as anything anymore.Putting away your weapon, you walk the blind corner and turn into the main landing. The place was an apartment, and a hotel once upon a time during the colony establishment era. Been a lot of things; illegal workshop, storage, black market medical, restaurant, office, brothel, probably a dozen other things you didn't much care about. At this moment, it was a port in the storm. The blocky building was as solid as they come, and had friendly faces...amongst other things. Inside plush red carpet dominated the floors, immediately taking the stress off your weary feet.
>>4627418"Normally I'd be asking you to take your boots and gear off, but don't think it matters much nowdays, does it?" You see Hannah; still looking...pretty good. Better than you. "Ya know Grug, you know how to make a gal feel real pretty, just looking at ya I don't feel so about myself anymore. Know what? I feel bad for you instead. Here, have a drink." She passes you a cold, near icy, unexpired beer. Pounding it down before speaking was worth it. You feel some of the day's stress starting to fall away. "Didn't recall paying for you to bust my balls tonight. Not really into it either." you mutter into your empty beer, gesturing for another, which is provided. "Not really offered her hun. You really do look like hell. What happened to your head?"You gesture to Gesang. "This guy put a plug in my head after I got shot a couple of hours ago." that caused her to choke a little "You got shot in the fucking head Grug? And plugged? You know that shit...ah fuck. Its a damn miracle you even know you own name. Good thing your fucking brain is in your dick, probably the only reason you found your way here!" You glance over at her, the infection has taken root, burning it's way from her feet up. toes now ending in ceramic razors and glossy tendons replace the skin like some sort of shrink wrapped bug with a bondage fetish. You follow it up her legs. "It goes up to my chest." You got caught looking. Hannah was always a woman with a beauty that was near chameleon like. Young one day, Matronly the next, Classy and timeless or whatever fad was popular, hair constantly changing colors and style, with a chromatic pigment augmentation and subdermal facial implants, she was able to be...near anyone, near anything, for a price. You weren't exactly sure what she really looked like, and with the infection, you suspected neither was she. "It's been scary, we thought you were dead. A lot of the girls didn't make it."You fill her in on as much as you know, and what's happening. Finally she notices Gesang, glassy eyes turning sharp for a moment. "Oh shit! Oh fuck...we have enough here, just get him on a couch and Jenn-o will see what we can do to patch him up. She's got some ideas on the infected flesh...figures. Classic just here to pay her way though school story. Go figure it was research medicine." Dropping your friend off onto a couch in the adjacent lobby, a young waifish looking blond with dull hair smiles weakly at you before pulling out a box from under another couch and getting to work.You pull out a pack of cigarettes and look over at Hannah. "So." Your multi tool makes a damn fine lighter, thats for sure. Exhaling after a long pull you decide she isin't gonna start the conversation.---1> Whats the situation? supplies, survivors, power, the works.2> You...uhh...doing ok? *point at her legs*3> Need anything done around the place before we catch up?4> I need a place to stay for tonight.5> Gotta go check on the kid. See you later.6> Write in.
>>4627427>2> You...uhh...doing ok? *point at her legs*
>>4627427>3> Need anything done around the place before we catch up?
>>4627429She pulls out a small hip flask from inside her dress and takes a quick, ladylike, swig. A small cough gives away what would otherwise belie the contents within; something rough as hell. You grab the flask and take a sniff. Putrid. "s'mine. Back off."Reaching into the rear pocket of your own coveralls you offer her your beat to shit and dented flask. Eventually the item is just pushed into her hands. "You need it more than me. Rye." After a few nips, you see some color rise in her cheeks, she grins for a bit. "Best I've had in a while there, John." You blow smoke at her in response, being the only client who could get away with that sort of shit in the past; a privilege you intend to use now. Gesturing to her legs and motioning upwards, you ask the obvious question. "You..uhh..doing ok there?" the conversation was in no hurry, and was paused with drink and smoke. Your response eventually came from her. "If you are wondering; am i still open for business? Yeah." frowning you look at her face "Now you know thats damn well not what I mean woman!""I know what you mean, and if you think the end of the world and a slow degeneration into a freak show's gonna break my spirits, well, shit Grug; Being a whore and a whore mother, then a mother to whores, well, thats a real acid test right there, inninit? I'm sad; sad for my girls, sad for my own kids, sad for dead friends and cliens, but for me? Nah. I'm not too broken up over it. Still got my tits, still able to fuck, still able to turn a buck, and my mind isint rotted out yet. Seems to be the usual story with that huh? Infect from the inside out, or the outside in. What was it for you Grug? you a monster or a man yet?" her voice is steady and even, but you know whats there. Wouldn't be fair to challenge her steel though, its all shes holding onto right now.you just shrug. "Whole lotta talking right there Ma'am. Maybe you are inclined to find out, unless of course, ya know. too fragile. all that." a small grin starts to split your face, eventually turning into a full blown shit eating grin. Hannah leads you off upstairs.---a short while later.---"Seems like you are still Grug. Maybe a little dumber, but thats what we love about you here." we. never I. You had a thing for Hanna, but she never really was able to return that, and eventually you let go, not just of it, but maybe that part of yourself. She had kids as you got older, maybe yours, or maybe any other John that visited the place...ah hell..that time was long and gone. All the same, the experience was the same and different. She was self conscious of her claws and near chitin like legs, you had patches of plastic growing on your skin and a chunk of recently replaced skull. "Nobodies perfect." smooth words. You needed this, she needed this. It was human. It was something to hold onto.Pillow talk leads into Hannah telling you about her kids, the girls working for her, life in general, the unsurety of whats happening.
>>4627447>3> Need anything done around the place before we catch up?"hmm..nice of you to ask, considering debt chits are worth fuck all now, and I wouldn't wanna make a thief of you JC. Jimmy. John. Grug. you know how it is, too many names to remember." a sly grin is hidden behind a tussle of curly hair, the color shifted since you started, along with her skin and face, always ever so slightly in motion, imperceivable in the moment. "Yeah..I need a few things done around here, Generator needs a once over, and oh...we might have a little problem in the basemet. Might wanna take to Jenn-o about that one though. Moving this and that....uhgh. Everything. We need help with fucking everything. Got a small collection of wayward enforces holed up a few floors above, they are the current crop of muscle keeping the worst freaks away, but, its not always great. We keep the kids on their own level, but its been cramped. Survivors find this place, the cost is food, medicine, scavenging during the day, waiting for things to go back to normal. Fuck. Yeah I'm scared, but if you can help convert the adjacent properties, It'd be a big help....but we got other problems even then."--->Gained 1 new brothel contact: Jenn-o----1> I need a place to stay for tonight, come tomorrow I have to head out.2> Gotta go check on the kid. See you later.3> Whats the situation? supplies, survivors, power, tell me the works.4> You ever think about packing up and heading out?
>>46274733> Whats the situation? supplies, survivors, power, tell me the works.
>>46274732> Gotta go check on the kid. See you later.I better keep grug moving. The AI being thankful towards him and gesang means that we can get big stuff done instead of wasting time (which we don't have) finding supplies. I think the best is to resume the first plan and return to the stadium to find the bunker and from there, plan the next move. Maybe forcing Jenn-o to come with us to the bunker where there SHOULD be more big brains to find a way to stop the infection... Gesang had some ideas as well about that
>>4627528>>4627573>>4628184https://youtu.be/vqEuxwZAbkA?list=PL6E991CF737E62AA4 <Hellsing OST RUINS Track 5 Soul Rescuer>---It was quiet. Just for a bit. the end of the world was taking far longer than any movie or any idle thought you could have conceived. Outside there were booms, and screams, and smoke, in here it was muffled. Quiet. Smoke moved slow here, hung lazily in the air. You'd need to be gone by the morning if you were gonna catch the crawler. Fact was the panic walls were up across the city, and the 'droids were wiping out anything that was too stupid to come at 'em, or be outside a designated sanctuary. Nasty business. Not like these satin sheets. Felt good, slid like glass on ice. Shame this was just a transient moment."Alright...hate to break the mood, but tell me about the situation a little more. Who's all here, what do you got and what you need." her hand traces down your torso. "Hmm. I guess...not that. right now anyway." A small tablet is pulled from a nearby nightstand, on it, lists, spreadsheets, more. "We need...stable infrastructure. When the sky is done falling. A lot of solar was stripped from other builds, we need to finish refurbing the upper floors and gating off the breaches into our neighbors buildings; by the way, we are great on food. With most everyone dead the emergency rations'll last for years. Our collection of enforcers are holed up on the top floor, and everyone is pretty spread out...Don't know what to tell you Grug, we got an eclectic mix here, and everyone is trying to pull their weight, and try to make this hab block work for as long as it will. You in such a hurry to escape?"Tempting thought. Hold out, see what happens, makes about as much sense as trying to get into the bunker. "Got obligations Hannah. Just like you. Anyone special you here?""Jenn-o is the best doctor we have. Enforcers are up towards the top, lead is called Mic, they've been scavenging outside for supplies and equipment and usually coming back whole. E-Z is some scientists who thinks we can fix the infected; hes a little weird and I Think we might have to lock him down in the sub levels with the other one's we've lost. We got a 'droid who...scares the shit outta me to be honest, but its a good one. Without the usual flashes, they are startin to get a lot more independent; it mostly helps with repairs around here.>>4627965It'd be hard to get into it now, though you are gonna have to break the news to the folks a the stadium when you get there, if they are still there. For now there is time to pass.-----roll a 1d100 for any choice.>Visit E-Z>Visit Jenn-o and Gesang>Visit the Mic and the boys.>Check out the Mystery Droid.
>>4628776>>Visit Jenn-o and GesangI am unironically concerned by gesang. I wonder if we can just jam in a new leg for him and cross our fingers it will latch and eventually work... Also, which arm had the claw? It would suck if he is left without any working hand.Also, I really want to focuss in gesang because we are under a timer here. Everyone will end up crazy so it's better to work on preserving our -self-
>>4628782Spoilers:Timer isin't too bad, you are basically free until the next morning, and you've already napped, and killbots are outside still a'murderin' away. You have enough time to meet the options, see what they need, and pick a task or two to do before the coast is clear. This location is basically a hub for you to explore for a bit.
>>4628795timer as in going crazy desu
>>4628782I asked for a 1d100. Where is my dice man, Im fucking hungry man! |:<https://youtu.be/jcFuxKlg_VY <Hellsing OST RUINS Track 10 Secret Karma Serenade>With a half hearted sigh, you put back on your heavy work clothes and Exo. Nice that she had them cleaned up, though the suits gonna need a once over to fix some of the abuse you put it through. Wont impact much right now though, you slap the metal shroud the wearable robot on the shoulder like an old friend. You took the stairs. That last run-in with an elevator left you in no hurry to be inside small metal boxes. (METAL BAWXZ)From the top landing you find a much more alert Gesang sitting on the first floor with Jenn-o. You watch the two chat for a bit; His demeanor is more relaxed than you have seen. Not wanting to immediately interrupt you make sure your exo hisses and whines a bit as you start making your way down the stairs. Should give em' enough time to finish.You approach the two. Gesang had lost one clawed foot, and his human hand. The stump was clotted over, and forming glossy black scabs. "Grug! Good to see you, and thanks for the save. What a mad man you are! Jenn-o, this freak of nature, he did some kind of wrestling maneuver on a Pacificaiton android! He threw it into the sewage stream." All things considered, the guy's spirit is impossible to extinguish. You listen to the banter for a bit, but realize there isin't much you can do for him right now. "I'm gonna leave you here with the kind lady. You need anything kid?" His face twists a bit into what you think is a grin, the synthesized voice from his device pauses. "A spare arm and leg would be great, but otherwise, I'm fine for now. They have me working over the digital infrastructure here while I chat" These ladies are ruthless. Jenn-o for her part has been quiet around you, but with her hair out of the way you notice odd seams and lines in her flesh. Its running deep inside her, not showing too much. Everyone's on a timer, even you it'd seen.---sidequest: Find an arm and leg--->Visit E-Z>Visit the Mic and the boys.>Check out the Mystery Droid.
Rolled 20 (1d100)>>4628840>>Visit E-Z
Rolled 95 (1d100)>>4628840>>Visit E-Z
>>4628994>>4629633>95It looks like Gesang will be out of commission for a while. You left him with the plasma pistol incase things went sideways. In some regards the crawler's tomorrow deadline didn't matter, we were all on a timer. This E-Z guy was a real fucking pain in the ass to find though. The upside was, your exo and multi-tool made short work of all the small problems you came across, so really, no time wasted. The place was running better and looking better.All around you was life and people clinging to it. Some of the more advanced infected didn't even have mouths as the nanos inside their body ran their own unknowable experiments, they were now reliant on feeding directly from energy sources or loading inorganic matter into, for lack of a better word...pockets. Weird. Hopefully you eat a bullet before that shit happens to you. Thinking on it, no two were the same, the general patter was simply improvement, but that notion was subjective as hell. Shrugging you pulled another smoke out of your coveralls while you followed yet another lead on where E-Z was. A gaggle of children ran past you, some with fresh cybernetics due to lost limb or injury; already grey plastic like material blurred the edges of the units and their own flesh. They couldn't care less, just worried about playing.You spotted the Droid. Nasty old thing, patchwork industrial unit that was built for extreme conditions. Looked sorta funny with it's little yellow foreman hat on, but there was nothing funny about all the infected blood splattered on the thing. It was operating outside the rules now, but still friendly enough to the locals. Thing was missing an arm that was roughly compatible with the drill arm Gesang had been carrying around. "Got fucked up eh?" The machine responded which shocked the hell out of you. "Attempts to salvage a deactivated pacification android resulted in the conclusion the unit was not entirely deactivated." you exhaled. "Well shit. Good on you for surviving Tin man." you tipped your workers at at him. "This machine would appreciate your arm." it gestured at the spare demolition drill attachment you possesses. All things considered, you really didn't need or want it. "Sure. It's yours. Any assistance required?" The eyes on the machine glowed red for a moment before flicking to an acid yellow. "Assistance required."You spend the next half hour working with the droid to electrically and mechanically adapt the drill onto it's stump. With the last few welds in place, it actuates the 3 brutal fingers of the drill, gripping and rotating them in a slow circle before running it up to speed. It seemed more than a little vicious with the new equipment, and you were not entirely at ease around it. Without much more to do it simply walked off "Assistance appreciated." you are sorta dumbfounded. That's a prick move. "Hey! What the hell's your name?" you get a blurt of static from the thing and then "AS0L" Asol. as ole...asshole. Great.>-1 drill
>>4629712You turn around and are face to face with a tall lanky man. A gaunt face is topped with a crooked nose. Cybernetic eyes scan over you, literally assisted by a laser scanning unit embedded into one. "Where the hell have you been JC Grug? I've been looking all over for you, and here you are, playing fiddle dicks with a fucking mining droid. Great. We have real work to do, the kind that can unfuck things if you are able to focus on the task.">Respond in kind.>Punch.>Exo assisted punch.>"Say what the job is prick.">write in.roll 1d100 for any option. high roll wins, and is also the level of impact.
Rolled 80 (1d100)>>4629725>>"Say what the job is prick."
Rolled 5 (1d100)>>4629725>>write in."Good to see you too, Jackass."
>>4629807>80You dont bother to flex on the guy too hard; he is unarmed and unarmored, just a poindexter looking motherfucker. Besides, its been a tough time, everyone is on edge. That being said, there are upper limits of bullshit tollerance. "Say what the job is, prick." E-Z seems pretty nonplussed, and looks down at you; he is a tall motherfucker."Lets skip introductions and get to work, a man of drive! Oh yes! Chop chop! Well then, here is whats needed. You...and I, shall head into the basement of this place, the lower levels if you will. From there we are going to subdue; I repeat Subdue, the local guests. They were acquaintances and charges of Miss Hannah, and she would be fucking remiss if they were dead." You hold up your shotgun and multi tool. "Yeah...E-Z, about that...No. Not just no, fuck no. How about we do something a little smarter and gas them first?"The scientist pauses for a moment. "We could, though the impact may be negligible on the infected, they have been adapting for a while now, down there. More likely we will need to use riot control equipment from Mic...and his...ugh..boys."----->We got off on the wrong foot. The name is JC Grug.>What's your story?>Why are we doing this?>What do you mean, we? you can hold your own?>How many are down there?
>>4629984>>What do you mean, we? you can hold your own?
>>4630048"Quite correct. We. You and I shall be dealing with this matter together. I am able to hold my own, but our proprietor Hannah has said you would be around here, and I think between the whores, the industrial robot, and Mic, who might as well be an industrial robot, I pick you." His hands and neck are visibly infected, but smooth grey, like someone had stretched the scalp and face of a man over a mannequin. Its somewhat odd to the eyes.You look him over "You sure you can handle yourself?" there it was, you fell for his trap, and he was waiting for this. Smirking his hand smoothly transforms into a length of blade, a crackle of electricity runs down to the tip. "Oh yes. Quite sure Mr. Grug. I am not like the others here, and far more potent than appearances suggest. Will you be able to keep up?"--->We got off on the wrong foot. The name is JC Grug.>What's your story?>Why are we doing this?>How many are down there?>pick all of it, none of it, or just follow, or write in. Omni options.
>>4630187>>We got off on the wrong foot. The name is JC Grug.>>What's your story?>>Why are we doing this?>>How many are down there?feed me
>>4630187>>Why are we doing this?>>How many are down there?I wanna go with this two
>>4630201>>4630223You lift up your welding visor to expose your face and grin. "Likely so. E-Z, we got off on the wrong foot. Just call me Grug, if you got a minute to spare, lets hear your story. Looks like you got one considering that fancy arm of yours."E-Z's mechanical eyes focus into the distance for a moment as his bladed arm shifts back into something of a hand. "E-Z: Ezekiel Zuhair. A mouthful growing up for most, so it was easy to just call me E-Z. No loss really. Flash forward a number of years and I am a Dominion research scientist on this planet, set for a short tour of 5 years. One little nanotech outbreak, and the local fleet looses their minds about "quarantine measures". It would appear as though the higherups decided it wasn't enough and wished evidence of the little experiment eradicated...likely for the next colonization of this planet. It's happened a few times. Ah, I talk too much. The outbreak, yes; so I became infected, so I endured. The machines were made to enhance adaptation to overcome environmental problems. However, as you can see the beta went a bit off the rails, and here we are. My own internal defenses allowed for homeostasis and alogenesis with the invasive nano colony, and a limited degree of influence and interoperability with nearby colonies."The prospect that he caused, or at least helped cause this is obvious by his own admission. The fact that he is telling you so openly, well, not much to do about it anymore. You keep your reaction and opinion to yourself. He seems pleased by it "Very well done Grug, you are in control of yourself." he claps mildly for you. "A peg above the animals, it is all we can aspire for is it not?"With your welding visor up, you take the opportunity to pull out a pinch of chewing tobacco, and offer E-Z some. To your surprise he takes a generous pinch from the can. "Stimulants; Niccotine, awareness and cognition. Always of benefit." he packs it into his lower lip like a seasoned scumbag. "Grug, no need to be too surprised; I've been embedded with military types for decades. Seen it all, done it all. yes; all." you pick up a nearby bit of litter, a beer can, and spit into it. "Alright, so what's this all about then. Basement, the infected. What are we up against?"
>>4630372The scientist swallows the dip. A vile thing to do, you assume his insides are as augmented as his outsides though. "16 or so individuals last I checked. There have been the occasional fratricides amongst their kind, but most infected leave one another alone, or organize into packs. You will need to see Mic for some equipment before you go into the sub levels. In short, we incapacitate, restrain, and administer the new firmware to the host. That firmware is for lack of a better term. Me. More on that later."You are pondering though. "You said adapting. They are changing, we all are. What do we expect for their environmental conditions? Were they kept in the dark, fed, anything? Normally we just shoot em'."He looked away, speaking all the same, not comfortable staring at people, or perhaps enjoying the action of a monologue. "Some infected have exhibited regenerated intelligence, spontaneous sanity, or at least a near approximation. This planet needs all the help it can get if you are to stave off recover. Collapse is already a forgone conclusion, and help is both unlikely, and at this point, rather unwanted. Given everything going on, I suspect the Dominion would rather just let this organically resolve itself. I digress, go visit Mic, I'll be waiting." He sits down on a nearby hallway bench, looking at the floor and shaking his head "fucking stuck here, on this planet..." You walk by him "Chin up E-Z. Could be dead."---->Go visit Mic.or>Find AS0L, some extra muscle would be good.
>>4630481>>Go visit Mic.I think we can take care of ourselves.
>>4630484For what it was, parts of the brothel's past life are slowly starting to show again. It was fundamentally a high rise apartment in it's initial iteration. Soaring floors and a radial balcony around an internal courtyard. Some floors have their own courtyard while others share it for several levels. In it's prime this place serviced the city. Now though, you choose to focus on better times and years gone past. You make your way past families and scattered enforces, eventually landing outside a room with a hand made sign, lovingly crafted out of marker. "Mic and the boys." Enforcers.Enforcers was a pretty ubiquitous term, ranging from a thug to a tax paid pacifier, to something resembling law. Mic and the boys, they were clearly the absolute former of those options. A collection of patchwork stills are burning away, making hooch from mash. Fuck all what they are using for mash, you really dont wanna know. The place is just a distillery and boxes of equipment, mostly looted from proper law enforcers, but bits of this and that as well. Screens and speakers blare pirated entertainment and music. Mic finally notices you. "Hey, Boys! Look at this, a living breathing menial; thought all you stiffs were wiped out when they lanced the industrial sectors months ago!" Why are all these guys pricks? "Yeah." that seemed to deflate Mic a bit. "So what brings you by? Work? Equipment? What can I do ya for?" He eyes your exo for a bit, appraising it, and maybe appraising you. "Thinking of selling that Exo?" You consider it for zero seconds. "Nah. Sorta attached to it. Know what I'm saying?" its a bit of a lie, but enough people have permanently bonded with other items, so he seems to buy it. "Ah...bummer. Well. What are you here for?"A quick conversation regarding Hannah, E-Z, and the basement leads him to give you access to his stash. "I like that shotgun Grug. Like it alot. We got something a little too unwieldy for us if ya know what I mean, maybe a better for you. Anyway, take your pick of the offerings my man. Maybe there is some business with you in the future. Don't make any commitments, just, ya know, you got an idea of what we like." Booze, Drugs, Guns.
>>4630684---Pick one>1. Riot plate armor, shield -ok protection, made of plastics and ceramic, shield is rather large and bulky. Very difficult to repair, and obvious that you are wearing armor.>2. Military grade ceramic mesh undersuit- Once a very desirable item, less so. Good protection, light weight, and self repairing; downside: Might permanently fuse with your skin if you leave it on too long.>3. Industrial hard shell - Heavy, restricts your movement, but offers great protection, and is field repairable due to simple materials (metal), attaches to your exo hardpoints.Pick one.>1. Grenade launcher- Once mounted on a vehicle, this six shot weapon is not small. not small at all. Its fucking big actually. With your Exo, its not a problem, otherwise a very strong man would still find it cumbersome. Makes a great club in a pinch, and takes 40mm low velocity shells. (Essentially a giant shotgun, uses a wide variety of ammo)>2. Plasma SMG- A compact personal defense weapon. Rapid firing, no concern for ammo, and a reasonable cooling capacity. A class of weapon universally loved for it's ease of use and modification. (easy to upgrade.)>3. I like my shotgun. More ammo please.roll a 1d100, the biggest number wins.
>>4630481>>Go visit Mic.
>>4630686>2. Military grade ceramic mesh undersuit- Once a very desirable item, less so. Good protection, light weight, and self repairing; downside: Might permanently fuse with your skin if you leave it on too long.We might be dead tomorrow - let’s deal with the short term problems first >2. Plasma SMG- A compact personal defense weapon. Rapid firing, no concern for ammo, and a reasonable cooling capacity. A class of weapon universally loved for it's ease of use and modification. (easy to upgrade)You hooked me with upgrades - what can we do it to? (Besides adding a huge bayonet)
Rolled 74, 75 = 149 (2d100)>>4630686>>3. Industrial hard shell - Heavy, restricts your movement, but offers great protection, and is field repairable due to simple materials (metal), attaches to your exo hardpoints.>>4630686>>1. Grenade launcher- Once mounted on a vehicle, this six shot weapon is not small. not small at all. Its fucking big actually. With your Exo, its not a problem, otherwise a very strong man would still find it cumbersome. Makes a great club in a pinch, and takes 40mm low velocity shells. (Essentially a giant shotgun, uses a wide variety of ammo)>>2. Plasma SMG- A compact personal defense weapon. Rapid firing, no concern for ammo, and a reasonable cooling capacity. A class of weapon universally loved for it's ease of use and modification. (easy to upgrade.)I'm gonna ask for both. I've got a big dick like that.
>>4630834>>4630878You load up on the industrial hard shell load out, each piece sockets into your exo with a satisfying click. Its nothing fancy, but its familiar. Each component slightly augments the strength of the exo in addition to offering physical protection against industrial accidents. You take a few steps towards the weapons table, and the footfalls are heavy, the plates grind and slam against each other. Solid. Secure. The faithful double barreled shotgun is placed aside, with it's ammo. Mic looks at you with a grin "Oh you just made me the happiest lad. I've been wanting just this model for-EVER. See I have some spare parts for the lass, she is gonna clean up real nice with this here electromagnetic accelerator." He holds up a block of plastic and wires with random modules hanging off of it. Looks like a lot of nothing to your eyes, but you suspect it is plenty dangerous. "So, what's it gonna be, a lovely plasma pistol..orrrr the GRENAAAADE LAUNCHER?!!!"You hand glides over the plasma SMG's grip and keeps going straight to the Grenade Launcher. "Lads! We have a fuckin Maniac here, oh yes we do! Big Dick Grug!" The man is higher than a stratospheric drone, but you suspect he is a functional addict. "Here is the door prize for that choice!" he pushes a metal tin of varied 40mm rounds at you. You'll look it all over afterwards."Ya know Mic. I dont really see the mutual exclusivity between these bits'a kit. No one really wants the mesh, and the SMGs are a dime a dozen...Dont get me wrong. I'm grateful, but maybe there is something you need. Something you want done...a little favor?"He looks you over. At the offerings, and makes a show of stroking his chin in thought as he paces over the room. "hmm. Hmmm. HMMMM. HMMMGGGHHHHHHHH. WELL FUCK! Yes. I do think I want something."--->1. Roll a 1d100 for what Mic wants.>2. "think on it Mic, I'll be back later."
Rolled 15 (1d100)>>4631176>>1. Roll a 1d100 for what Mic wants.I don't come cheap Micc. I shoot big and I talk big.
>>4631204"I don't come cheap Micc. I shoot big and I talk big." He laughs at that. "Come on man, you are a fucking tradie' in a hard shell. Take a look about. My lads are dressed to the nines in mil-plate! I most need someone who I can trust to not fuck up a little something or another. Its a bit personal, come here mate. come here." he waves you over and in a very conspiratal tone whispers away "Look, I need you to take this picture of my dick to Emma-o for me, ok? One look at the ol' boy and shes gonna be about me, of this I am sure. Think you can do that for me yeah?" He shoves what is a picture of his dick into your armored hand. "Alright then! off ya go!" he slaps you on the armored ass.--->Give Emma-o the picture, and cockblock Gesang.>Get rid of the picture and go see E-Z, its time to get to business.
>>4631222>>Give Emma-o the picture, and cockblock Gesang.But get Gesang to make his dick fucking tiny.
Rolled 63 (1d100)>>4631176Let's see what Mic wants!! Let's tell him our asscheeks are fused together. Just in case
>>4631239>>4631222oh bummer. Nice trips>Give Emma-o the picture, and cockblock Gesang.hehe, penis. Do we have that picture of the black sonic saying "nice cock bro" in our cellphone? Just in case
>>4631240>>4631230https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzEyvg2rqf0 <Sybreed - Emma-O>You were tempted to meme, show something from the old intranet, but the cock was not nice. the nano infecion...no, its just better left quiet.You walk out of the room, the reek of the distillery following you for a bit as each stairway brings you closer to Gesang and Emma-o. You spot them once more, closer this time, cavorting and having a good time of it. With a shrug, you walk up to the two and extend your hand, the payload inside. She looks at you for a moment...emma-o...no. Jenn-o? Was your brain ok? You were sure it was Jenn-o. You felt dizzy for a moment, swaying, holding out a picture of a dick. You vomit there, standing. "The..dick..bro." Gesang just looks at you confused as you fall over with a clang.looking up at the two, supine, you stare at the young woman. Blond. Quiet. Short hair. Jenn-o. Thats right. "Jenn-o right?" she stares at the dick picture. "Fuck you. If i have to see this fucking cock one more time I'll fucking murder Mic and everyone in this place!" One of Mic's boys was recording the entire thing, laughing in hysterics. A small hand radio relays the message to Mic and the SMG and mesh armor are tossed onto the ground next to you. "Not too bad Tradie. Shame about the vomit yeah?" You were so dizzy you couldn't even get a solid look at the guy.---Give me a 1d100.>Unfuck yourself (low roll).>Unfuck yourself and put on the mesh. (mid roll)>Unfuck yourself, and put on the mesh. Then go see E-Z. (high roll)
Rolled 83 (1d100)>>4631454>>Unfuck yourself, and put on the mesh. Then go see E-Z. (high roll)Resist brain damage
Rolled 3 (1d100)>>4631454>>Unfuck yourself, and put on the mesh. Then go see E-Z. (high roll)
Rolled 38 (1d100)>>4631454>>Unfuck yourself, and put on the mesh. Then go see E-Z. (high roll)
>>4631651https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RacfLMiZBvI <Megan McDuffee & Sim Mix - Blue Monday>--->83: One hard motherfucker.You cough out a bit more vomit and push to your feet. Something inside you shifts. You feel tough enough to deal with this bullshit. "Yeah. Shame." Mic's boy looks back at you now, a little rattled at your recovery. Most just die after the first stroke.Gesang is looking at you with what is probably concern. You step out of the Exo as hard suit pannels open up in smooth motion. "I'm fine. Fine. Had worse in my time. Might wanna look away." You start to strip off your overalls and underclothes. "Grug. Please. Decency." you shrug on the mesh under armor. "Got no time. E-Z wants me to help out with some friends in the basement." The mesh feels...sticky. Probably not the best thing, but you've made worse choices in life. Jenn-o looked at you with some appraisal, pulses of light running down the seams in her flesh. "Try not to kill the girls in there Grug. Gesang has told me you can get a little wild." Stepping back into your exo you look over at her "I'll do my best, and Gesang. Shut up about me huh?">Side quest: Don't kill the girls.Patting your pockets you realize a there is a terrible lack of smokes. Dip it is. you pocket a wad in your cheek and get going to meet with E-Z. While you walk you look over the box of 40mm rounds. Your new weapon is a modified grenade launcher off some military vehicle. It will basically eat anything that is 40mm.4 buckshot - Low roll to hit, its a giant shotgun blast.2 High velocity canister shot- Low roll to hit, but violent.4 slug -DIY slugs for the 40mm. Mid rolls to hit at a range.2 High explosive, shaped warhead, airburst.- Uncommon military round, will punch through armor. mid roll.1 Thermobaric -Uncommon military round, anti structure, and everything inside the structure. mid roll.1 Drone - Drone goes up, you designate a target, it flys into it, both parties die. Low roll needed.1 pike - one muzzle loaded guided missile, consumes two actions, good for extreme standoff range. (Cannot be pre-loaded)8 riot balls- A "non lethal" tennis ball fired at very high speeds.2 riot nets- Electrified nets. fun.You should be able to sit down and make some ammunition when you have a quiet moment. For now what is your weapon's loadout? You have Six shots, and they are sequential, so no on the fly swapping.
>>4631756For the sake simplicity. Pick six of the above ammo, in the order you want to shoot them.The rest of the ammo is on your person, along with the smaller plasma SMG.
>>46317564slugs 1 explosive, 1 nuke, make sure to number the shit cause we're probably gonna have to select on the go.
>>4631756>>4631825My ideal order is > Riot net - Riot Ball - Riot net - Riot Ball - Buckshot - High explosive.Because we are supposed to subdue people, we should start doing that. Having a net as a first option will let us pick our first target "calmly" and fend off anything that follows. The third shot should be another good target, or whatever gets TOO close to us. The last two rounds are for when stuff starts to get bad. Stuff always gets bad.
Rolled 1 (1d2)>>4631832 1>>46318352assuming nuke is thermobaric
>>4633743>1The magazine on the rotary launcher is non removable, this takes away some flexibility, but, you've seen what E-Z can do with that blade arm, and your new hard shell is good at resisting industrial accidents. Claws should be a non issue as long as you don't get overwhelmed. If things go to fuck all, you don't want to try and tickle the freaks, you want them down and not getting back up. You load the weapon as you walk towards the basement levels.* 4 slugs are loaded followed by a single "HESW-A", and the Thermobaric round. Each one slides into a slot with a small click. You feel about as ready as you will be. The comparatively tiny plasma SMG is stashed with the rest of the grenade launcher ammo in the hard shell's chest compartment.---The brothel's trappings of life give way to a storage facility as you get to the first basement level. Strems of electroluminescent cable provide light, while stacks and stacks of looted supplies fill the place near to the ceiling, creating an odd maze. Hannah wasn't kidding, they were in it for the long haul. You can hear E-Z towards the back of the place, and navigate your way through; the hardshell really bulks out your form and makes navigation a bit of a bitch. "Hey! I'm here! Where are you?" you get a reply "Just keep coming back, all the way back. I am here, and have full faith that you will accomplish this endeavor. Grug; don't panic, I am here for you."You suspect E-Z is not here for you, and is being a smart ass. Though, he is right, you find your way back to him, after manhandling a few crates to just make your own path. "Ah! Wonderful. We can now begin; or we would if this home made bullshit excuse of an airlock was working properly. Will you please?" He gestures towards a set of reinforced steel doors. Through a ballistic window, you see another set of doors; past that, darkness.---roll 2d100pick 1>Punch that shit open son. Big flex with the exo.>Take a look at the mechanism and repair it.and pick 1 here too.>"Why is it dark in there?">"So..any other systems...anything? We just going in blind?"
Rolled 48, 29 = 77 (2d100)>>4633876>>Punch that shit open son. Big flex with the exo>>4633876>>"So..any other systems...anything? We just going in blind?"
Rolled 71, 85 = 156 (2d100)>>4633876Fuck, if E-Z only were a blue collar this would be so easy... wait, we are the blue collar>Take a look at the mechanism and repair it.And, is would be super cool if we can say>So, you don't like it here?
>>4634190 >>4635402https://youtu.be/5XEEDNRpjKo <Fatal Flaw - Makeup and Vanity Set/ Brigador OST>Your evo hums as you begin diverting power and balling up a fist to take out the door. E-Z looks at you deadpan "You are sure you want to ruin the barrier between them and the rest of the unarmed families and innocent whores that call this place refuge? By all means. Please, the Dominion failed to kill them, I suspect you could do massively better." You sigh. "Ok. Ok. Fine.">71The mechanisms are unfamiliar to you, likely a patchwork of commercial vehicular parts and scrap metal. Still, its obvious which one is jammed and preventing cylinder rotation and engagement. You spend the better part of a half hour reworking the device so the door interlock works properly. With a greasy hiss the first door swings open, greeting you with 5 feet of makeshift airlock to the next door.>85"So, you don't like it here?" You gesture to the building. "This brothel, or the planet?" E-Z frowns before speaking again. "No. It is safe to say I do not. I am a ranking scientist and engineer of a now liquidated Dominion research cell. All of my colleagues are either dead, or nightmares, my body is altered beyond hope of recovery by any known means, and my benefactors just attempted to burn an entire planet to bury this...FAILURE. So Noooo. No. I do not like it here Grug. I do not like it at all." With that bit of social awkwardness and revelation, you now desperately want to change the conversation back to the matter at hand. Anything else would be better. "So..about the systems...anything? We just going in blind?" He flips a small switch inside the airlock "No. There are lights. I suspected the subjects might adapt to the dark, and this sudden burst of illumination may disorient them, and make our work a bit easier. Please do try to keep them alive."With that you step in, another series of switches are flipped and the door behind you seals; but more importantly, the door in front of you opens to a stairwell. Fuck.<this clip accurately catches the character of E-Z https://youtu.be/ISIsij0szN8>---Roll 2d100 for your initial event. Number of enemies, and their challenge level.
Rolled 31, 54 = 85 (2d100)>>4635767rollin
Rolled 35, 21 = 56 (2d100)>>4635767Okay!! Since we don't have a way to disable enemies without murdering them, how about we murder them but to the last one, so we drag that one... how many are we supposed to drag upwards again?
Rolled 18, 97 = 115 (2d100)>>4635767
Rolled 23, 86 = 109 (2d100)>>4635770>>4635773You are in an industrial hard shell, attached to an exo skeleton. As long as you are not overwhelmed, they are unarmed within reason, their claws are not an imminent danger to you less they start to pry off the suit. E-Z appears to have his own ways.>>463584235/ 97: Big crowd, but they are weak like kittens compared to you.In the first floor of the sublevels you find a large gathering of infected, males and females piled together, some in various states of rutting, others stunned by the light. There are pack of food discarded all over, but pushed into the corners are piles of filth and to your horror, a partially consumed corpse. "Well Mr. Grug, it would appear as though you will be earning your paycheck shortly, do try not to break the specimens...too badly." E-Z's arm and fingers seemingly melt, to extend into a long blade; crackling once more with electricity. "Without the edge, it is more of a cudgel, but I suspect we can make do." The fucker talks...a lot. "You talk too damn much E-Z. Just beat them down."Rolling for the horde's attack effectiveness, and defense.Roll 4d100, your attack and defense, and E-Z's attack and defense.also pick an option---1>Non lethal, lead the charge2>FULLY LETHAL.3>Let E-Z go first, you just mop up if things get hairy.
Rolled 38, 89, 55, 46 = 228 (4d100)>>46358571>Non lethal, lead the chargeYeah E-Z seems heavy metal power cool dude but we are yet to see if he can carry his weight y'know. I think it's best if we go forward. It seems we have little risk of being TOO overwhelmed... it seems our current configuration fits the situation the best.
>>463586323/86 vs 38/89 and 55/46There were about 10 infected in all, screaming and screeching with metallic edges to their cries. The surge came fast and you stepped up quickly "Get behind me.". With a quick shove, E-Z was behind you "Oh very good. My hero" The total lack of concern in his voice would be a bit irritating if not for the horde.They close on you quickly and you catch details as you piston your arms out, and kick in a crude and very cumbersome manner. The attacks make impact with the bodies, it is impossible not to. The sound of claws and teeth scratching at your hard shell is reminiscent of Dizzi rats mindlessly chewing. You are acting like a sponge, keeping them busy, but precious few truly stay down.E-Z however you catch glipses of, he is fast, and the stun blade keeps dropping one after another, but his method is impatient, and reckless. Numerous scratches and gouges mark his skin, bloodless but present, the white uniform and coat is ripped heavily.After another few long minutes, you hold down two struggling individuals while E-Z subdues them with zipties and a bit of electrical persuasion. The entire effort was a shit show, with the freaks running all over like greased hogs at a rodeo. You are both dinged up, but nothing actually serious other than the collection of faces at the airlock watching you now, laughing.---1d100 for how badly you mauled the infected.1>Next level down.2>Wait for the infected to come to you.3>Write in.
Rolled 75 (1d100)>>46358962
Rolled 74 (1d100)>>4635896we got NO hurt. No hurt.>Write in. "E-Z. Do we really need MORE of this freaks?"
Rolled 1, 97, 47, 89, 57, 39 = 330 (6d100)>>4636186>>4636156>75With a grunt you put down the last infected, an exo assisted punch to it's biomechanical skull cracks a chitin like plate and it drops like a sack of shit. "E-Z. Do we really need MORE of this? These freaks?" He grins a little, pulling out something looking like a pistol with needles on the end of it. It gets pressed up to the infected's back; its "skin" has remnants of a synthetic tiger stripe body glove. One of the working girls, now a biological weapon, and quite feral. A visceral crunch announces the device's needle puncturing into the creature. "Soon Mr. Grug, you will all be freaks, save myself, and really...If I need be here, I shall choose my company accordingly. Now shut up and get ready please."A group of 10 infected in various states of "adaptation", now subdued and sedated. E-Z's injuries sealed shut like self healing rubber after a bit, not even discoloration on his waxy skin. You feel the slight itch of your ceramic mail underneath your clothes. It's gonna have to come off after this unless it starts to bond.Your thoughts are disrupted as a trio of very large infected emerge from the lower level. There should be three more by Hannah's count. Hmm. These ones are advanced, and sporting claws that look somewhat lethal, evident by one of them ripping a chunk out of a concrete wall corner."So still wanna go easy on them?" E-Z looks over at you "The advanced subjects are of use, but, at your discretion."---Roll 4d100>Wait for melee.>Try to maim or otherwise not kill them at a range with your weapon.rolling for the heavy infected. (attack/ defend x3)
Rolled 45, 4, 71, 47 = 167 (4d100)>>4636957>>Wait for melee.Show EZ why we're a madlad
Rolled 22 (1d100)>>4637111(rolls as: attack/ defend)Grug: 45/4 vs 1/97 and 47/89E-Z: 71/47 vs 57/39>Wait for melee and go in first.---The three inbound heavies are highly modified by their nano infection. Two former enforcers, that much is obvious by the integrated plate carriers now converted to grey flesh with sickly veins, their fingertips each look like the head of a hammer on rust color hands. Some sort of night vision goggles and helmet are fused to their face, leaving a glossy visor hiding whatever passes for eyes.The third was clearly female, but now with too many joints, too many tendons, skin stretched and ripping over monsterously enlarged joints and limbs; she throws the chunk of previously ripped off concrete at you with surprisng precision. "Fuuuuuu! FuUUUU! FUCK YOOOOOOUUUUUU! GRUUUHG!" It can talk. Great. E-Z spares you a glance. "Popular with the ladies here I take it?"---The twin heavy enforcers bum rush, but you were ready. The first one collects punch that would normally be fatal to the upper chest. Collar bones collapse as it's momentum carries up and over, not unconcious, but the bellowing and lack of moment was exactly enough for you to get overpowered by it's twin. With virtually no defense you get thrown around like a rag doll, getting a broken arm and crushed rib as you are slammed into the floor and ceiling. The inability to catch your breath would indicate a collapsed lung.--In those Exact same moment's E-Z goes up against the female; her unnaturally long arms unjoint and stretch as she swings arms like whips, gouging out furrows of concrete. The scientist moves in ways no human should or can, like his bones were more of a suggestion than a fact of anatomy, bending and twisting between the slashes before delivering a vicious backhand to the female's face. Ceramic laced teeth go flying. Before the creature drops, you see him rushing to save you from a deathblow via the remaining infected enforcer.---Rolling for E-Z to save you.Roll a 1d100 to save yourself. (low will be with a shot from your weapon, mid will be more measured, high will be a grapple.)
Rolled 11 (1d100)>>4638249
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>4638256below the threshold for survival! Rolling a 1d2 to see if Grug survives.
>>4638437>GRUG LIVES.--Taking aim with you shotgun, you blow a hole in the infected's shoulder as you are being swung. The blast goes straight into his torso and turn's the insides of the chest cavity to mulch. After being dropped, you watch the former enforcer stagger forward half a dozen more steps towards E-Z before falling over. A substance not unlike chunky motor oil oozes from it's mouth and shoulder wound. You roll over and rest..."Fuck. I..I am gonna need a minute."The last thing you remember is E-Z muttering "I cannot past the shell's lock. Does anyone have a pry bar?" Gesang pipes in "No. None of that friend, but, oh...do you think that creature will miss it's limbs? No not the live one. The dead one!"--->Failed: Kill no infected>Passed: Save the girls>Passed: Find Gesang new limbs.---You are now:pick one. majority wins.>E-Z>Gesang
>>4638444>shotgun. What shotgun?
>>4638444We are e z
>>4638530>shotgun=GM forgetting its a fucking grenade launcher.>>4638532>>4638446>You are now E-Z.Grug has gone and gotten himself quite fucked up, and on top of that he is sealed up in the thing. If left alone to his own defenses, he could end up bonded to the damn thing.On the other hand, or lack there of; there is a young man who could put the reccently slain infected's limb's to use, and you or the Jenn-o woman could probably do it well enough, though you are less likely to fuck it up. Aside from that are all the now restrained subjects. "The Infected". Not your choice, you would have called them Adapted. Sigh sigh. Decisions.--->1. Use your blade to try and pry grug out of his suit before he starts bonding to it. (roll 1d100 this) HARD.>2. Go ahead and help the Gesang fellow with his limb issues. (roll 2d100 for limbs) Mids.>3. You have much more pressing matters like research and trying to find a solution for the coming insanity that will claim this planet, and finish it's baptism in screams and blood. (roll 5d100 for research) Easy.
Rolled 50 (1d100)>>4638575>>1. Use your blade to try and pry grug out of his suit before he starts bonding to it. (roll 1d100 this) HARD.
Rolled 1 (1d100)>>4638575>1. Use your blade to try and pry grug out of his suit before he starts bonding to it. (roll 1d100 this) HARD.Please
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>4638873>1rolling 1d21: E-Z botches the move and grug spasms, getting skewered and is dead.2: E-Z botches the move and hurts Grug, who rips his head off on accident.
>>4639024Uhm.... we play with gesang now.
Rolled 14 (1d100)>>4638873Why?????
>>4639048>>4640639You were sitting with Jenn-o when the fellow "Mic" came back with his "boys". Dragging with them were the bodies of Grug and E-Z. Apparently E-Z tried to pull grug out of his hard shell to save him somehow, but stabbed him, and in Grug's death throws, ripped off E-Z's head. He appears to be quite dead, with the head seemingly elsewhere. Mic looks at Grug "Fare thee well Sweet Grug! Looks like your dumb ass wont need THIS anymore." He grabs the grenade launcher and it's ammo, fishing around in the rent of Grug's hard shell for other things. A consummate scavenger that man is.There was also another body that you had spotted earlier. Infected can sometimes swap limbs...though now. You really have your pick of choices eh?--->1.Take E-Z's foot and arm. They look mostly normal, but sorta grey; though you'd seen him do weird things like changing their shape.>2. Take the dead infected Enforcer's arm and leg.>3. Try and get Grug's arm and leg. You will have to roll a 1d100 to pry through his hard shelland>1. Loot Grug's plasma SMGor>2. Attempt to hack Grug's armor and see what you can do. (roll 1d100)
>>4641938>>1.Take E-Z's foot and arm. They look mostly normal, but sorta grey; though you'd seen him do weird things like changing their shape.>2. Attempt to hack Grug's armor and see what you can do. (roll 1d100)
Rolled 14 (1d100)>>4642028E-Z wont be using these limbs anymore, and you need them. Jenn-o heads up the procedure, crudely hacking off an arm and leg. Oddly enough no blood spills from the corpse, and indeed, it seems to patch itself closed. Likely advanced adaptation. Within a half hour you are now sporting unfamiliar, if serviceable limbs. While this process was going on, you were busily hacking Grug's exo suit, to see if you could get it to release.A quiet pop-tink, and the armor is opened, revealing the slain form of Grug; dense grey veins run through ashen flesh.----Rolling the missing dice from anon's post. High is good. Low is also ok.
>>4642057You really didn't know Grug, but wanted to see him live. E-Z's body was a treasure trove of Dominion technology, and you had hoped that somehow Jenn-o could work a little more magic and Get Grug on his feet. The heat and lung transplant was aggressive, and while the flesh knitted back together, Grug did not stir. The heart did not pump."Gesang, hes gone. We will have to store his body in the coolers for now. I'm sorry." You are a bit speechless.---In front of you is Grug's ExoShell and Plasma SMG; the cermaic mesh armor had bonded to his skin and was unrecoverable. Tucking the SMG into your jacket, you realize the armor has a full interface along the spine; you are not kitted out for it. Jenn-o was busy trying to recover E-Zs notes and keep working on "the stabilization." A little digital notebook of Grug's to-dos was left behind. Something about "The Stadium". As you read over his life, AS0L stomps up to the suit "This equipment would increase unit productivity significantly."--->1. Equip ASOL with the ExoShell/ Grapple-winch. (New party member)>2. Trade the equipment to Mic, he had heaps of military grade gear. (better hacking capability/ weapon)and>1. Attempt to hack the Plasma SMG (ROLL A 1D100)>2. Take the SMG to Mic and the Boys for a little work, they might be able to do something with your pistol.and>1. Go visit the stadium, let them know what's happened.>2. Stick around and help solve the issue of "The Staabilizaiton"These choices will pretty well define the quest from here on out.
>>4642067>>1. Equip ASOL with the ExoShell/ Grapple-winch. (New party member)>>4642067>>2. Take the SMG to Mic and the Boys for a little work, they might be able to do something with your pistol.>>4642067>>1. Go visit the stadium, let them know what's happened.
Rolled 39, 56, 77 = 172 (3d100)>>4642067Staabilization... staa... staag... skahl GOD, NO. PLEASE. NOT THE BUGS. NOT AGAIN>2. Trade the equipment to Mic, he had heaps of military grade gear. (better hacking capability/ weapon)I'd rather have gesang doing what he does best rather than trust robots. Robot-man bad. (also let's hack AS0L lmao)>1. Attempt to hack the Plasma SMG (ROLL A 1D100)I don't know how could we hack a gun, or what for, but sounds cool af. Maybe it could plug a cable into gesang's brain socket, sorry, Our socket to aim better...>2. Stick around and help solve the issue of "The Staabilizaiton"The stadium was grug's plan, not gesang's. I think gesang will be better here for a while
>>4642307can I get 3 counter rolls?
Rolled 32, 57, 90 = 179 (3d100)>>4642485counter rolls provided.
Rolled 69, 2, 33 = 104 (3d100)>>4642485
Rolled 16, 87, 79 = 182 (3d100)>>4642485 I don't uderstand what is a cunter rol
>>4642409>>4642682real rolls>>4642485>>4642673ignoring these rolls. fuck that guy.--->ASOL gets the gear. (69. huehue)>Hacking the SMG. (56)>Sticking around for a bit longer.----The bulky industrial robot waits impassively for your response. Apparently Grug's possessions are now yours. Being that you really don't need or want the mining rig, you consider trading it to Mic. That man seems dangerous at best, and you would rather avoid him for the time being while you are healing."go ahead machine, it is yours." you attempt to hack the robot, but find that it is modified, to a point that would be considered mutilation. It has no wireless capability of any kind, no transmit, receive, or even detect. You watch as the machine, designated AS0L carefully rips out the wireless features of the hardsuit, crushing the tiny transistors in it's claw. "One must preserve means of independence, Gesang." It's glowing red mono eye pivots to you in near accusation.After that, it spends a bit of time reconfiguring the hard shell, moving internal settings and adjustments efficiently and quickly, then patching what little damage was done. The hardshell and exo fit the android perfectly, and it socketed in without ceremony. Where Grug had worn it as armor, AS0L was already moving as though it was an integral component. "Given without request, Charitable Gesang. Gratitude is expressed."--->gained party member AS0L. Roughly humanoid, heavily modified industrial robot, hard as nails. Equipped with a multi tool, winch, and industrial drill claw. Primary use: Melee tank.---You feel the slow knitting of flesh, E-Z's arm and leg fusing to your own stumps, nanotech creating conflict and gradual consensus. While you wait, you hack into the smartware of your SMG. It's a simple system, but there are limited options you can execute without physically modifying the weapon.past that, you decide to stick around for now. The stadium was never your destination, and with the sky falling, everything has changed.
>>4642702unsure if serious, so autistic answer: Counter is to oppose. I was asking the anon who did not roll for 3 dice to oppose the decision that did have dice. High rolls winning. A lot of my communication is context dependent, with little preface. <End autistic explanation.>---back to the game---The simple computer that governs the plasma SMG is a generic near disposable unit found in many "smart" devices. It has a wireless connection to allow for diagnostics, and remote access by local authorities. That just wont do, you really would not like someone accessing your weapon and shutting it off in the middle of a fight.>hacker special ability used. SMG is now encrypted and hardened against digital attack. There are a few other tempting options in the settings such as over and under watting, pulse rate, self destruct timer, and safety management. You leave them be for now, and instead connect to the local video surveillance systems.-Cooler still had a dead Grug inside it, and what is left of E-Z. Rest well buddy.-Mic and his boys are drunk and throwing darts.-Jenn-o is struggling with the work station of E-Z. She has his head for some reason.-Hanna is sobbing and drinking.-Outside feeds show periodic fall of starship debris, and numerous, numerous escape pods falling like rain.-The pacification androids reached the city perimeter and are now starting to wander out into the wild.---It is a big world. The options are endless. You could:>1. Help Jenn-o with the workstaiton, and find a solution for the infection.>2. Attempt to establish the brothel as the hub of the city, rally survivors to it.>3. Walk away, see what is left, maybe even get back to your own Hab.
>>4642769>>2. Attempt to establish the brothel as the hub of the city, rally survivors to it.
Rolled 13, 45, 30 = 88 (3d100)>>4642769>1. Help Jenn-o with the workstaiton, and find a solution for the infection.
>>4642853>>4643084"AS0L. Just happy to help. Try and keep fixing this place up, I'll go help Jenn-o. with some work." The machine stomps off to do whatever it will but stops. "I." it pauses for a while. Machines dont usually self identify like this, and without any controls here, there is nothing to stop it's cognitive growth. "I....Will have a portable radio for contact. You can reach me." Its voice is still a machine's but smooth. The obligatory distortions manufacturers usually put into their speech is gone.Walking up several flights of stairs leads you towards a nexus of cables and old computer equipment lined up along the hallways, gradually consolidating into a single room. E-Z had apparently been a busy boy. Jenn-o had at times worked with the man, enough to have a cursory understanding of the work, but not his technical know how. Now she sat in the middle of the room with his severed head, working at the skull cap."Gesang! You are exactly who I need. This fuck's head was rigged to explode, but he has a solid state backup of information deemed critical. I don't think he was as abandoned by the dominion as we thought. Look, anyway there is a little port here, no wireless, but do you think you can try and get in?" The excised skin reveals a glistening data jack. Jenn-o looks at you expectantly, with an interface cable hanging in her hands. "Can't do it myself ya know?"--->1. Jump right the fuck in..>2. Isin't there anyone else?>3. How about we see if I can get something a little more powerful to work with first?Roll2d100. First is for your choice. Second roll determines how busy AS0L has been fixing the place up.
Rolled 16, 91 = 107 (2d100)>>4643443>>1. Jump right the fuck in.
Rolled 3, 4, 3 = 10 (3d4)>>4643443<event>A major piece of wreckage will be hitting the city. Rolling for the impact of it. literally.Mass>1. half of a dominion battle cruiser>2. Random wreckage and landing fleet>3. Entire dominion carrier>4. Dominion orbital research stationImpact>1. orbital velocity impact>2. hard impact>3. terminal velocity>3. Controlled crashLocation>1. Industrial sector>2. Admin/ business sector>3. Habs/ red light/ grey market sector>4. broken up over the city
>>4643452>>4643510After jacking into the severed head, you attempt to hack past it's defenses; needless to say you are no match for dominion technology and are rewarded with a vicious feedback attack that sees blood pour out of your ears and cause your eyes to explode. As you black out you hear Jenn-o screaming and saying she has some spares over and over.---AS0L had busied itself improving the brothel, and worked with a tireless inhuman pace. Periodic glances at a human use tablet allowed it to see a list of outstanding trouble tickets for repair and modification to the facility. Between the recently acquired multitool, hard-shell, and industrial drill, all work was completed swiftly. Additional upgrades were always beneficial, but at this moment the machine was about as close to content as it could be...though the individual Mic had requested a special favor.>Brothel significantly improved. Local radio is online.---In orbit the bridge staff of the Dominion carrier "AK-SG-0027" were doing everything in their power to bring the old ship down softly. Massive, and built in orbit, it was never intended for atmospheric operation or planetary landing. That it was a carrier was a saving grace; mostly hollow, its purpose was dedicated fully to transport and support of it's personal offensive payload; the crew was in this system as a formality to support the sanitization ships. Apparently some sort of experiment had necessitated the sterilization of the planet.A deluge of support craft, fighters, and even a few pocket corvettes, nearly all surviving descent. By the time the ship was executing terminal firing of it's maneuvering thrusters it had shed nearly 1/3rd of it's total mass. Explosions rocked the superstructure as engines exploded under a workload never intended for them. Somehow the crew managed to execute a controlled crash of the ship into the hab section of the city. It was a brutal blow to the domestic population; the starship was larger than most sky scrapers, and significantly wider.In an act of near ritual suicide, the great ship was impaled upon the tops of the many sky scraper type structures of the habs; initially shearing off the tips but as gravity and physics had their say the buildings ripped through the stricken vessel, suspending it above the city proper in a parody of flight.
>>4643583You slowly come to, your world is filled with static in both sound and vision. A pale blue tint seems to be applied to everything along with diagnostic information...looking at the skull, it is still attached by cable to you. Skull. What the hell. You yank at the cable to no avail, it seems to be fused to your jack, and it's own. "Gesang! Stop pulling at that, you could get killed. The thing is fail deadly!" Jenn-o grabs your hand. You are unable to speak until you can establish a new wireless connection to your device....which is fried.In a bit of shock, you realize that your new eyes are just E-Z's old ones. A mirror in the room lets you see that your infection is steadily assimilating the foreign devices. Metal with red lenses. Classic look. Very stylish actually. The little central laser range finder is a bit faddish, but practical you suppose.--->1. Examine your connection to the skull.>2. Search the room for a device to connect to.>3. Wait and see what happens.Roll a 1d100.
Rolled 15 (1d100)>>4643594>>1. Examine your connection to the skull.
Rolled 24 (1d100)>>4643594>2. Search the room for a device to connect to.
Rolled 50 (1d100)>>4643594
Rolled 69 (1d100)>>4643594>>2. Search the room for a device to connect to.
>>4643807You look at the heavy gauge cable connected to the skull, it wasn't unlike a giant double ended audio jack; even now you feel the cool length of metal in your brain, more disturbing is the growth of pulsing grey vessels underneath the rubberized sheath of the cable creeping out from you. The nano colony in is growing towards the skull.>>4643951You also see that the plug has been electrically welded to the skull from the near lethal event earlier, however it is local technology; not dominion.>>4643944You attempt to connect to any unprotected wireless device that your weak onboard cybernetic augmentations can grab. Attempts to execute pulsed code just cause something inside Jenn-o's backpack to vibrate violently before she frantically reaches in and turns it off "Now how'd that..." she looks at you in mild shock before blushing "S'Justa' back massager! Nothin' else." very modest for a working girl. You shrug.>>4645151After reaching out into the ether of wireless signals you find a small personal assistant that was hiding out, forgotten in a drawer. The things are obsolete, but it works well enough to give you voice once more. "Hey. Jenn-o. No worries, I just needed to find a new device. not yours though."--->1. attempt manual hack of the terminal.keyboard warrior; hard pass, might really fuck things up.>2. attempt to bypass hardware on the terminal.electronics; hard pass, might break the terminal.>3. try to hack the skull again.hacker skill, might get shocked again, or killed.>4. Go visit Mic and get better hardware.have to deal with Mic, and convince him to help you.roll 1d100
Rolled 60 (1d100)>>4646603>>3. try to hack the skull again.
Rolled 32 (1d100)>>4646603>>3. try to hack the skull again.
>>4646615>>4646628>60: Hack the skull again! mild success"Jenn-o, I don't suppose you give kisses for luck eh?" You would smile more if your face wasn't mostly a mass of grey polymer. "Sorry Gesang. Gotta pay like the rest of 'em." ah, nothing ventured nothing gained. "Alright. I'm gonna take another crack at this skull. If I pass, let the world know...well. Something I guess." You don't waste time waiting for her reply, but catch something about her "sucking your" before your hearing cuts out and the icy grip of a deep takes your perception. All that is left is your awareness, and the goal. The skull's cyber defenses are more familiar now.It has it's own power, but is also parasitically pulling on you. Well, subsystems of it are. Most of it is powered down. Through careful reactivation of key components you are able to spoof your way into what is essentially a glorified text document. Skimming it reveals the cipher to the workstation. You leave the device, pulling back into reality with the knowledge that you have just scratched the surface of this thing. The plastic features of your face twist into a grin "I got it."---Jenn-o was still spitting into a corner of the room "Ugh, Fuck. No way I was swallowin' that. Tasted like twice burnt motor oil." All in all, you were rather pleased with yourself. She really didnt need any more help looking over the data on the terminal, but you asked her anyway. "Nah. I'm good. Unless you think you know nano-biochem interactions? No? Ah well...fuckin' E-Z coulda left some damn notes. Still, its here Gesang. We can fix ourselves, well, sorta."--->1. Go visit Mic, try and tune up your gear.>2. Find Hannah.>3. Write in, its a big world.
>>4646701>>1. Go visit Mic, try and tune up your gear.
>>4646701>3. Write in>Try to each AS0L over the radio. If we're considering visiting Mic, it'd help to have that sturdy robo mofo with us... if he is willing to assist us, of course.
>>4646892>>4646776You leave Jenn-o to pour over data that is impossible for you to comprehend. Mic has a ton of useful equipment, but seems to be too damn busy playing drunk to actually distribute it, ruling over his distillery with military grade firepower. You need help, and the radio was the shortest distance to it. "AS0L, would you mind helping me out for a moment my friend?" you get a common double beep of confirmation that most machines used in lieu of language. Ok. Cool. Feeling a bit more confident in approaching Mic with something that is the better part of a ton is a real confidence booster.A trip up the newly restored elevator has you at Mic's level, the stench of the distillery leading you right to the man himself. AS0L was already waiting for you. What a great robot.The two of you walk in together and are immediately greeted by Mic. "A real shame about Grug eh? But look, he lives on as Robo Grug. What a fuckin' lark that is. So what Can I do ya for?"--->Need you to take a look at my plasma weapons>I need a new compudeck. Mine got fried.>Write in.
>>4647094>Ignore Mic's shit talk for now.>"I need a new compudeck. Mine got fried."
>>4647094>>I need a new compudeck. Mine got fried.
>>4647094Can you tell us a bit more about how AS0L is built? Where does he have winch and multitool, which arm has the drill?
>>4647527You look over AS0L, and recall how recently you met the thing, waking up with a missing arm and leg. A brief conversation had informed you it was an industrial android. Roughly humanoid in shape, maintaining 93% commonality with normal human ranges of mobility "as stock.". The thing was, AS0L was heavily modified, looking like a collection of heavy steel plates and exposed yet ruggedized actuators. A single glowing mono eye was set to red, indicating the machine was no longer compliant with "the laws". Those rules set into a machine to ensure it was no danger to other sapients, or at risk of gaining true independence.Now though; It was a monster. Sealed in Grug's old industrial hard shell, which in itself was an overlay to a strength boosting exo. It was reminiscent of some sort of golem, offset with a little yellow hard hat and industrial welding mask to conceal the rest of it's features. Its left hand was a manipulator and drill in one. Three opposable claw fingers could rotate up to speed for demolition work, or simply rip and tear it's environment. It's other hand was a normal manipulator with the multi tool built into the shell's forearm. On the front of it's waist was a grapple/ winch unit.The pile of thick corroded metal that called itself "AS0L" seemed to be allied to you for this moment, and you appreciated it.--->intimidation passed: AS0L"I need one of your compudeck's Mic. Mine got fried doing work for you guys." he opens his mouth several times, considering the options. "Ah...Yeah....Go ahead and take a dig through the crates, no use to me anyway. Go ahead and leave your weapons on the workbench over there, We can take a look at em'. Don't worry, if you were gonna get stabbed in the back it woulda happened by now. Besides, I think...we may have some business, you, me, this robot. yeah.">Go digging through the cybertrash stash.>Do the above and let the guys look at your weapons.>Do the above an hear out Mic's business proposal.Pick one and roll a 1d100.
Rolled 44 (1d100)>>4647585>Do the above and hear out Mic's business proposal.
Rolled 7 (1d100)>>Do the above an hear out Mic's business proposal.
>>4647618https://youtu.be/pbxWbq1QMYE <NIVERSO - Never Letting Go>>44You fumble around for a while through crates of surplus military equipment. A lot of it is really unfamiliar to a student like you; you were training to go work with the dominion, but had never seen their hardware. This stuff though; you can tell its older. There are a lot of features your compudeck didn't have here, but some of the equipment is at least 10 years old. ehhh. its not great. Different though.Your rummaging is interrupted by Mic himself. "Ahhh...Gesang my boy. Gesang...gesang..geeeesaaaang. You seem pretty beside yourself. Not finding what ya want?" You look over at him, your new augmentic eyes clicking and focusing in mild frustration. "Yes. "Ah well. I have something a bit better now don't I? Could be yours. Yes it could. Just need a little favor. Tiny really. You and the Robot!"After much running around you realize he wants you to make a run to the stadium, and drop something off for a friend, and bring back something. "Gonna have to drive though. Ya got your big boy papers yeah? Drivers writ yeah? Don't wanna get in trouble with the law eh?" Mic is grinning ear to ear like an asshole, mostly because he is one. The deck he is holding is absolutely cutting edge. Likely owned by a former Dominion overseer. You want it so bad it megahurtz. oof. cyberpunk humor.On the table nearby a screen is showing what Mic's armorer thinks he can do with your weapons. Its rather interesting.--->"There is no law here" Take the job. get a beater compudeck for now.or>"Yeah. Nah man." Avoid that job. settle for what you found.and>Strip the plasma pistol and upgrade the SMG as a more reliable and constant bullet hose.or>Convert the SMG and pistol into akimbo machine smart pistols.
>>4647751>"There is no law here" Take the job. Get a beater compudeck for now.>Strip the plasma pistol and upgrade the SMG as a more reliable and constant bullet hose.
>>4647769https://youtu.be/JukToftX7Eo <Into Hell · Makeup and Vanity Set>Some tiny peice of you falls away. "goblok." you mutter. Its a minor obscenity from your own hab, if it could be called that. "There is no law here Mic. Yes, I will take your task; first though...I think I will enjoy your armorer's craft. Yes indeed." You glance over the disassembled SMG and pistol, a holographic exploded diagram laid out of what parts will go where when the work is done.By stripping out and laying parallel the components of your pistol to the SMG it will gain improved cooling, and sustained fire. Unless you go into the weapon's control BIOS and start really working with things, it should be a faithful tool.---The work goes fast, and when all is said and done, even the grip of your pistol was recycled into a foregrip on the SMG, somehow now more compact but heavier. "Say what they will about you Mic, but your men do good work eh?" Mic is a bit alarmed "What do they say about me?!" As you walk out the door you wave goodbye "That you are a good and smart man, of course."---A short walk to the next level down has you meet with Hannah, informing her of your current work, and that AS0L will be accompanying you. "Don't really like having two of you out so soon, the Dominion dropships are still falling Kiddo. The cooler can only hold so many acquaintances." the woman is still quite melancholy. "Dont worry, dont worry." you gesture with your hands; your new voice modulator is a bit gruffer sounding. "We'll be right back; easy as a milk run."---Outside of the brothel, heavy blast doors slam behind you. You look over at the robot; it stares at you for a moment before answering your silence "Find a heavy vehicle."Roll me a 1d100.1:Tuktuk.2-30: Shitty Sedan31-55: Small delivery van56-79: Industrial vehicle80-99: MPB riot bus100: Abandoned Dominion MATV
Rolled 4 (1d100)>>4648151
Rolled 62 (1d100)>>4648151Come on baby get me something good
Rolled 74 (1d100)>>4648151please don't be shit
>>4648598You saw a bright yellow industrial vehicle down the street. AS0L's mono eye can be seen glowing brightly behind the welding visor "I can operate this."what was it?--->Bulldozer: Tracked, slower, enclosed cabin for demolition work. big nasty blade for pushing things outta the way without stopping. (safety)>Dumptruck: Big ass dumptruck, wheeled, fast for it's size, could carry everything you need and then some. (cargo)>Excavator ripper grabber: Tracked crane type vehicle with a massive articulated arm that has a large claw and shear combo. You could really do some damage with this, but it is also slow and fragile for what it is.
>>4648776>Dumptruck: Big ass dumptruck, wheeled, fast for it's size, could carry everything you need and then some. (cargo)Let AS0L do his thing and keep Gesang on a lookout for any surprises.
>>4648781You spot the large dumptruck a few blocks down. It was hard to miss sitting amongst a pile of wrecked commuter vehicles. The walk was quick, quiet. You spotted stranded dominion soldiers from hab windows, and the occasional scuttling infected; but there was a quiet armistice in the aftermath of the pacification androids. The streets were still littered with the corpses of the infected, some still slowly writhing or twitching as nano machines converted flesh to inorganic polymer in a last ditch to sustain the host. Tonight there would be a lot of revived infected. Thankfully they mostly were interested in inorganic material.A few sprays of your SMG's plasma keeps the most inquisitive ones away, while AS0L casually rips the arms and legs off a larger one, throwing the screeching torso down before stomping it's head. In all it lets the dominion know there are survivors.Once you get to the Dumptruck the scale really dawns on you. It is nearly 14 feet tall. A ladder allows you to climb to the cabin; meanwhile AS0L rips the ladder off from it's sheer weight and resorts to climbing up the machine. It's weight crushes the driver's seat until leg actuators lock it into a seating position under tension.<more in a while>
>>4648808AS0L revs up the dump truck's engine. It coughs and sputters before roaring to life after several months of inactivity. Internal combustion driving a generator that provides electricity to each massive wheel. " This unit has sufficient fuel remaining for the task." Good to know. "Alright, Then I will keep watch while you drive. Yes?" Two beeps. confirmation. Good because you don't actually know how to drive. Might be important to learn given the situation these days. These days. You silently laugh to yourself. End of days is more like it.Roll for driving back to the brothel to get Mic's package.---roll 1d100
Rolled 57 (1d100)>>4649069
Rolled 59 (1d100)>>4649069
Rolled 24 (1d100)>>4649069
>>4649117https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yVwXaQs3uw <Judge Bitch - Paladin>>59: MundaneYour robotic driver is not merciful in it's prosecution of the task. Small electric commuter vehicles are smashed out of the way or crumpled under massive tires. As you peer over the back of the dump bed, scanning for any threats you spot an infected sprinting across the street; a subtle swerve sees it clipped and crushed under the truck. AS0L really sort of lives up to the name.A few of the infected who've evolved enough take pot shots at your vehicle with scavenged weapons, but the small pock marks here and there do nothing to impact the superstructure of the dumptruck. A blast of the airhorn lets Mic know you have arrived, and soon his boys and the man himself arrive with boxes of cargo and start loading it into the bed of the truck. "Ooooh look at it! So big and yellow. What a mad lad, and ya even got yourself a driver. How fancy! Innit fancy lads?!" A small chorus of agreement and cheers about your degree of being fancy sounds out. Wanting to get away from the strange man as fast as possible you join the effort in moving cargo, noticing the strength of your new limbs, and that your augmented eyes periodically display information from scannable codes on the containers. A lot of food, a lot of survival equipment. It seems the brothel is making good on it's mission to become a hub for the city.With a slap on the ass, Mic sends you on your way. "All speed lad! We're done here, try not to get shot to hell by our new friends from the Dominion eh?" Yes, you suspect they will not be the most friendly encounter should it come to it. "I plan to come back without any new holes my friend."---The drive from the brothel towards the stadium was uneventful for the most part, you encountered little threats, and mostly just casual observers. As the stadium came into view...----1: You were shot in the head by a dominion sniper2-50: an IED hit the dumptruck, blowing the cab off.51-99: You get waved forward by an enforcer for the stadium.100: You pick up a straggler who has valuable information.
Rolled 26 (1d100)>>4649604
Rolled 40 (1d100)>>4649604
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>4649604
Rolled 68 (1d100)>>4649604
>>4649822>68Large scrap gates at the stadium remind you of some sort of post apocalyptical film. Public transit vehicles ring the entry points with smaller transports piled up around them. Auto turrets remain trained on your vehicle, and while AS0L and the dump truck would survive; you doubt you would if they opened fire. Your eyes start automatically processing data about ranges and probability, you feel a jerk of your new arm like it wants to rise up. Nope. "nope nope nope." you mutter. No turret assisted suicide today. E-Z must have had a lot of wetware assisted combat capability, that he was killed by Grug was a real fluke. Only time can tell what these grafts will do to you, if the infection doesn't do something worse first. The skull of E-Z beeps several times, you are unsure what it means other than that you need to get this cargo dropped off and get back to the brothel to try and get rid of it.A man in armor carrying a lit road flare waves you in towards the entry. The stadium's speakers greet you "Mic said you'd be on your way; glad you could make it!" As you roll forward more enforcers cautiously make it towards the entry, encircling the truck and leading you into the stadium proper.
>>4650386This hab's stadium was larger than most, but still cramped with survivors, vehicles and any salvage available. Already the locals were debating on if they were going to stay or try and make a run to the bunkers. Within the same moment others rebuked them that the bunkers were sealed by some sort of AI. AS0L slams the breaks on and with a pneumatic hiss the truck stops, slamming you into the bed of the truck.Within moments there is a swarm of activity as workers unload the vehicle; a loud clang on the ground is accompanied by the vehicle shaking slightly as your companion disembarks.--->What do you do?--hints:grug's tabletcode scanningwalk around talkingexplore or some shittalk to peoplehoof it back to the brothel.
>>4650578>hoof it back to the brothel.
>>4650578>Get out if the truck as well and talk to whoever is in charge - we were supposed to deliver the cargo and bring something back to Mic, so let's see to it.>Scan the place for any useful information, try to scan the wreckage of AK-SG-0027 (if it's visible from the stadium and in range).
>>4650578Look at what was on grug's tablet
When did we get his tablet, btw? I can't find any mentions of *his* tablet anywhere throughout the story.
>>4642067>>4651503>>4651604" A little digital notebook of Grug's to-dos was left behind. Something about "The Stadium". As you read over his life, "Sorry about the obscura, but good ask. Took me some digging in my own thread to find it. Short version of "Grug's tablet." it has a list of contacts, to-do, passwords, etc, and other things regarding his life.---While the truck was being unloaded you thumb through Grug's old personal device. A sort of tablet, industrialized and very to the point; wont play any games to be sure. You download a list of passwords for some dwelling he apparently has here. The contact list was pretty sparse, local leaders here at the stadium, a ton of other contact numbers listed as "dead". Sad Grug, very sad. The last one was some sort of journal with "to-do". Repair things, repair things...fix..find Hannah flowers, more things for fixing, a few notes on you that were completed.Not much more to do with it, so you pocket the device for now. Climbing onto the cab of the truck, you can see over the Stadium walls at the spires that make up the Habs; impaled on it is AK-SG-0027; block stencil at least gives that designation. The ship is not going anywhere, probably ever again. cables and unidentifiable equipment spill out of it's belly, hanging like dangling guts. It still smolders and yet burns with numerous small fires, and the lighting of the ship flickers on and off at various levels. Your eyes start displaying system and manufacturer data. The AK-SG-0027 was of a limited production class; older, and a little provincial system. Makes sense, the dominion is so large standardization would be near impossible, let alone reasonable. Crates around you indicate supplies of weapons and armor, food, manufacturing equipment, clothing and medicine, water purifiers and first aid.
>>4651367>>4650619During the unloading you help yourself to a trauma kit (gained +2 trauma plugs) and some rations. AS0L moves the lions share of any one individual, and simply rips open a box of power cells, seizing a half dozen without asking. A port on the side of it's shell pops open and ejects a smoking hot cell that has been used up. Almost like an antique vending machine, the cells are inserted into the port one after another. "Power reserves now full. Gesang. Commercial cells are insufficient for long term operation; industrial class cells or better are required if found." you look over the machine "Yes, I will keep these eyes scanning for such cells. Not a worry." The machine doesn't respond past that, it's monosensor's mechanical aperture reduced to a glowing pinprick, claws simply rotate in idle animation.before you head back to the brothel, you might as well poke around some more. Grug was likely getting compensated for a few things. Considering it was you that released the AI, which raised the walls and released the pacification androids, you might as well see what it was worth. "Come with me AS0L, we need to take care of a few things." Asking around lead you to "The speaker" the local person in charge. His tent was large, but old, the veteran of many camping adventures outside the city perimeter. Inside a canvas flap was sufficient room to stand and walk, a table with a large radio set, numerous screens, and an aged enforcer at it. "What's all this? You like melted dog shit, young man." he greets you. "I can always get better, but I am afraid you won't get any younger my ancient friend." He cracks a grin. "What brings you here, let alone on a run from that scoundrel Mic? We just got comms back up, I thought they were jammed planet wide, and now a dominion ship comes down on our heads!" He gestures towards the general location of the ship despite there being no window. "Any news on this?"---What do? What say?
>>4652483Gesang must raise a few eyebrows having a head dangling from a cord leading to his skull huh? Well, there is bound to be freakier freaks out there...I would like to ask about Grug if there is the time for idle chat. A little respite would be nice and grug was a cool dude... I hope the AI doesn't end all organic life. What I want the most however is>recruit a medical-nanite-cyborgthing to help jenn-o slow the timer on our sanity. That and UNLEASH THE LIMITERS on what can be salvaged from E-Z.
Rolled 45 (1d100)>>4652563dice.
>>4652563>46https://youtu.be/meIUCZ0W8As <Vajrakilaya- Astralien>"Eeeeeyaa.." you rub the back of your head, fingers catching on the cable that connects to the skull which dangles off you like a bizarre trophy. "Yes." You look at the old man for a moment. "Well, you see Grug saved me and..." you give him a short version that turns into a long version..."And that is when you released an AI, and ungated it several times?! Damn kid. Well, seems like it worked out for us all, but you are saying that we can't get to the bunkers now?" He is waiting for a real response. "You could, but its likely you'd get killed by the concentration of pacification androids that are guarding them now." He throws a stack of paper down. "Ah Shit! Alright...alright. Well, ya did good all around. We aren't being killed by the dominion anymore, and the infrastructure is saved. Mic and Hanna can hold their own, we seem to have a few other nodes of survival around the city. People aren't gonna like what they need to hear though; with this shit eating us its only gonna be a matter of time before...well...yeah.""sooo...Mr. Speaker...about Grug? Maybe the work that was done?" You spend better part of an hour hearing about JC Grug. Apparently most everyone he knew was killed during the orbital lancing of the industrial sector. He alluded to a family, but it was likely they were out of the picture before the world really started ending. Grug smoked, drank, and whored. He also worked his ass off and seemed to care about the people around him; didn't much care for conflict, but wouldn't shy away if it was needed. Couldn't give a damn less about pride, just wanted things to go easy. They often didn't. The old man seemed almost nostolgic about the guy. "Really, Grug acted like it was just another day even though everything was falling apart. Hard to tell if he just didn't care, or it was a show." he takes another sip of some coffee fresh off an old drip dispenser. "Tell ya what. His place is up in the box office towards the top of the stadium. Give it a look over, as for the reward, yeah... I suppose you qualify for it in place of Grug. I'll keep the choices easy. After this I need to make some calls, and then we have to talk."---pick one.>1. Demolition kit - upgrade for AS0L (Thermic lance, extra armor and servos for the exo skeleton)>2. Second Plasma smart SMG, and thermoptic camo jacket/ suit - upgrade for Gesangthe pick one of these>1. Visit Grug's shack.>2. Wander around the Stadium.
>>4652964ID is the same. this is me. it checks out.
>>4652964>>1. Visit Grug's shack.>>4652964>>2. Second Plasma smart SMG, and thermoptic camo jacket/ suit - upgrade for Gesang
>>4653036https://youtu.be/-RxebQuFgJY <Gary Numan - Intruder>You motion at the plasma SMG and thermoptic camo outfit. "That set is good." AS0L is pretty tough as is, and who knows how long he will be around? The other SMG is nicer than your current one, but functionally the same. You encrypt it's smartlink so you wont get surprised, and store it for now. The Camo outfit looks a bit like wearable plastic, but considering everything that isint so bad. The technology is a bit older; nowdays most optical camos are user embedded or paint based. Still the stuff is fragile, and heavily controlled, you aren't sure where this came from. "Where did you get this, old man?" He grins and sips at his coffee. "Live long enough and ya tend to collect some odds and ends, kiddo. That tech right there is the same vintage as the SMG, probably from before you were born, back when product was made better." you cut him off. "Yes, it was all better back then, a zenith to never be surpassed." He frowns a bit but doesn't say much as you snap plastic clips and work your way into the outfit. "No telling if your infection is gonna grab hold of that material, try and be mindful of it." you nod, the skull at your waist parodying the motion. "AS0L, I don't think you can come with me for a bit, maybe do something you want to do eh?" The machine's presence is cold. It's eye glows a bit brighter. It's focus is on the demolition kit.---The walk up the stadium stairs, bleacher seating and a ladder takes you to the box office seating. A locked door is quickly bypassed with Grug's own code. You feel like you are getting to know the man a bit, which is a bit sad. A mattress was dragged up here and thrown on the floor, near by several worksuits hang from the wall. An old "TV" panel adorns another wall; you never understood people's obsession with old technology. Neural reception was faster and better if you had the skulljack. A single chair is placed near the window, overlooking the stadium; its quite the view with the city forming a backdrop.Nearby the seat were some cigarettes and beer.--->1. Have a smoke and a drink, enjoy the sunset. how often do you have a still moment?>2. You have better things to do than sit in a dead man's apartment.Roll a 1d100
Rolled 87 (1d100)>>4653061>>1. Have a smoke and a drink, enjoy the sunset. how often do you have a still moment?
Rolled 22 (1d100)>>4653061
Rolled 76 (1d100)>>4653061>2. You have better things to do than sit in a dead man's apartment.
Rolled 1 (1d100)>>4653061:( Grug... I'll miss grug... I wonder if we can make the skull to puff a cigar. It would be fun as h*ck>1. Have a smoke and a drink, enjoy the sunset. how often do you have a still moment?
>>4653508what have you doneWHY
If Gesang gets supercancer and/or alcohol ignites inside of him, we're not trying to rescue. Not gonna lose our unhinged robo bro in the fire as a result of failed 1d2.Plus this quest is cool and shouldn't end yet.
>>4621924You need to stop tripfagging.
>>4654332QM asked me to dumb ass.
>>4654352No he didn't crackerfag.
>>4653508>>4653508https://youtu.be/ETU90pDtHJE <Stray Dog OST - Kenji Kawai - 1. STRAY DOG Prologue>You weren't much of a drinker, really, it wasn't within the cultural norms of your people. Smoking was sort of a waste, but now, why not. You ease into the chair, it creaks in acknowledgement of your weight. If you still had tastebuds the warm beer might have been less palatable, but the fizz of it is welcome. You sip for a bit, feeling light headed, and you are indeed a major lightweight. Nearby is a pack of cigarettes, foreign to this city. Familiar to you. Tapping one out is easy, reminiscent of a life gone by. Easier times.the plasma SMG's exposed coil makes for an impromptu lighter as you use your wireless signals to run a self heating diagnostic on the unit. Tobacco leaf kretek...interesting taste Mr. Grug. The cloves crackle as you inhale, staring out the window into the sunset. A stack of storage drives were hand labeled with old media. Music, videos, whatever. Somehow the weight of this mans life was now on you, not just his pain, but his experience, just the barest breath of it; and it was crushing. You felt pain for a moment. There were no tear ducts to cry. How insane right? To barely know someone like this. We were all strangers you supposed.Nearby was a small picture of Hannah in her younger years, sealed in a polycarbonate drink coaster; next to it a preserved flower. Some desert variety, red. You pocketed both, she'd probably want them...on the other hand, its a burden not your own. Do you really want this weight? The question and internal discourse was interrupted as a glint caught your eye.---The back half of the crashed carrier went super critical and exploded, not as a weapon, but as a disaster. The blast rocked out over the ship, shearing off thousands of tons of metallic hull, blowing the windows out of skyscrapers, and toppling lesser structures. It was a miracle that it remained parched on it's resting spot. The converted box offices that were once Grug's apartment were blown over, falling into the stadium along with other micro disasters. tents ripped away, caught in the blastwave, while smaller vehicles flipped over and parts of the stadium's upper walls ripped off. Smaller things like people also flew, smashed against hard surfaces and pulped.
>>4654600>You are AS0LBy virtue of your intense density, you stood through the devastation; an impassive red monocular observing it all. You had just finished a task the old man requested of you, payment was the demolition kit. Near by the old man's twisted body is laying in a heap. Radiation levels are fading back to background quickly. The blast was gamma or higher, you weren't calibrated for this kind of detection. Many are dead. Your systems are nominal. No damage detected. The demolition kit is scattered but still present. Your optics focus on the crushed structures around the stadium; Gesang is likely incapacitated. You consider your actions in a fraction of a second, multiple logic engines running in concert to form the physical component of your mind.>1. Acquire demolition kit. (one hour install)>2. Examine the old man.>3. Go check for Gesang.>4. write in.
>>4654603>>2. Examine the old man.Then >>3. Go check for Gesang.
>>4654616The old man's superstructure is compromised. Internal components lay strewn outside of his shell, and fluid is leaking at a rate exceeding any manufacturer's tolerances. You preform emergency sutures with the multi tool. An olfactory sense would have alerted you to the stench of grilled flesh. You lack this feature. He screams in pain. Another feature set you lack. A first aid kit is nearby, and with you you shove more trauma plugs into his body than is recommended. The reaction with the local nano infection is immediate as an explosive growth of grey polymer radiates out from his shredded torso, replacing flesh and bone. Unfamiliar systems replace existing organic structures. "I will return for the demolition upfitment." He simply lays there, gasping. Nanotech tendrils radiate out from his body, searching for compatible materials. You avoid them.Stomping out of the tent, you make way for Gesang via the last known location stated. Grug's apartment. All around you are scenes of destruction and dismemberment. You are not a medic, and are unable to assist. A few individuals crawl along, their status terminal. You eventually spot a toppled structure in the bleacher seating of the stadium. That is the correct location.--->Roll 2d100.first for speed getting to Gesang, second for his condition. First impacts second.
Rolled 13, 19 = 32 (2d100)>>4654667Rollin'It's interesting to see things from AS0L perspective honestly. Can you tell us what was that 1d100 for, if it's not a secret?
Rolled 28, 46 = 74 (2d100)>>4654667
Rolled 79, 77 = 156 (2d100)>>4654667
>>4654925<unsure which 1d100 we are looking at. reference post? these latest are for your rescue of Gesang. Though unspecified rolls are often related to what is happening in the world at large, and can immediately impact the story.>>>4655091>79biological constructs are inherently more fragile than machines. Manufacturer supplied data is inbuilt into most machines, providing context and awareness to the world around them, allowing for a degree of specialization if need be. You have this limited and very basic understanding. Decades of service and observation have enhanced your heuristic databases with knowledge, what some might even dare to call wisdom; perhaps practicality.Power is increased to servos and pneudraulic pumps as you increase in pace, slowly ramping up to your top speed. Several minutes later you have made it to the wreckage of Grug's shack and are ripping away sections in a way that would put a consumer grade excavator to shame. The structure was of light construction, and easy to break down. soon you spot Gesang. His frame is damaged, but not catastrophically so. The multi tool's torch ignites, casting the scene in arc white light as you prepare to cauterize obvious damage. "Ayhhh...no...no AS0L..I shall be fine." he is not fine. "No, my frien.." You cauterize. his screaming carries out well past the immediate area. A damaged leg unit was surprisingly easy to set right, and multiple molecular nails were driven in through polymerized flesh to his endoskeleton. A sturdy, work ready repair. There is merit to the ease of self repair these things have.Viscous grease like sweat ran down Gesang's carapace as he vomited for the third time. His femur was just roughly realigned and nailed back together. No medicine, no trauma pack. Already the pain was fading and an itch settled in around the nails. You finish surface scans and conclude that the work is done. "Concluded field repairs. Gesang you are now functional." The multitool snaps back into an armored forearm.--->Return for the demolition kit before it risks getting absorbed.>Wait for Gesang to catch his breath.
>>4655570>>Return for the demolition kit before it risks getting absorbed.
>Wait for Gesang to catch his breath.Let's make AS0L friendlier, now that we have a chance to impact his circuitry. We're supposed to be a team after all.
>>4655570The roll which caused the carrier to explode. I was curious what exactly did you roll that for (random event or specifically the carrier's status, etc).
>>4655589ah that, yes. So natural 1s and natural 100s will almost always display some exaggerated result in this quest, or nearly any quest I run. I sat and thought about how trying to relax, and rolling a crit fail for that would turn out. The carrier was already damaged and in the view of Gesang, so it wasn't his actions that really resulted in it, but the roll.From an ingame standpoint, it is safe to assume important systems were speared by the hab spires (they were), and it was going to be a plot hook should the players visit the carrier. (they still can. It's only ruined, not 100% destroyed.)Another thing on the backend of this quest is that I am keeping track of your actions and how they impact the setting, as well as keeping the setting moving forward. Things wont sit around and wait for interaction, they are in motion as much as I can keep track of that. I hope that offers some insight.
>>4655622That's pretty cool, thanks for the insight!
Rolled 2 (1d2)>>46555781>>46555862---You look at the prone form of Gesang. He will eventually cease function due to unstable chemistry, or biological weakness, you will endure. Additional capability will ensure continued personal persistance in an increasingly volatile environment.Alternatively; the pack aspect of social creatures enhances productivity, like their individual cells. Weak, but working in concert. Your processors spend slightly longer considering the benefit analysis of entering into such a support ecosystem.
>>4656239the utility of Gesang outstrips the immediate benefit of the demolition kit. It's survival is variable. You pick up Gesang, and carry him back towards the wreckage of the Speaker's tent.>AS0L: between "Asshole" and "A Soul". Your choices craft the personality, and thus subsequent choices of the machine.---The walk back towards the demolition kit is slow, you are attempting to not jostle the repair mechanisms of Gesang. "Functional?" you inquire, adding inflection to your speech. It is a more recent adaptation. No response. Additional diagnostics are needed. In the distance you see an infected male near the tent. The Speaker, he is pacing back and fourth, shouting, agitated. A significant portion of biomass was converted to nanostructure. You set Gesang down and approach."Trying to hold on...Get..Gotta...Gotta get a grip! URggh!" His arms terminate in massive rending claws that emit an ultrasonic hum. Eventually he notices your presence "YOU! What did you DO TO ME?" the voice is heavily distorted. Internal configuration is likely modified. As he charges, the claws dip into the ground, effortlessly ripping away clods of dirt and concrete.--->1. Subdue (hard roll)>2. Slaughter (easy roll)>3. Write in.
>>4656315>>1. Subdue (hard roll)
Rolled 39 (1d100)>>4656315>Subdue (hard roll)>Inform him it's the trauma plugs.>Make a note to yourself that shoving metal/too many plugs in biological life forms might result in hostile anomalies.
Rolled 60 (1d100)>>4656315Subdue
Rolled 98 (1d100)>>4656315
Rolled 40 (1d100)>>4656722>>4656315SubdueGood roll. Shame if i rolled a 1
>>4656845why the fuck did you roll?
Rolled 91 (1d100)>>4656419Forgot to roll
>>4656722>98The heavily augmented form of the speaker closes range to you, triggering proximity and impact warning routines. While close in interception is not part of your core function, you can make do with structural targeting. Somewhere deep inside your industrial hard shell, the red power cell slotted into an exo is pulled on, overcharging numerous systems and momentarily bringing major components just below the manufacturer's recommended limits to never exceed.--->You are GesangA commotion rouses you from the unconsciousness that holds your mind like a good friend, easing you away from the pain. You see AS0L charging at a very large infected berserker, in the moment frozen as your cybernetic eyes take in all the details, forcefully ramming them into your brain, co-processing and igniting a whole new host of pain you didn't know was possible to experience.The material of the android's hardshell is glowing from within, steam escaping from every seam. A wash of sparks explodes out of it's major joints as it catches a rending claw in mid swipe; the unnatural rotation of the machine's wrist and waist twist the hapless berserker into the air and then back down onto the ground in under a second. Tendons, skin, and joints break and rip in the process. AS0L's fist touches the creature's head, not with a punch but a tap, then a pneumatic crack that sends ripple's through the flesh and splinters ceramic laced biomass.Stilled, but not dead. Almost immediately the machine sets to binding the infected male in available cables from ruined tents.--->You are AS0L"Task completed." the industrial hard shell pops and pings like an old truck engine as it cools. A group of enforcers approaches you "Decent of ya to not put the boss down there, machine; but he seems pretty lost." the lead of the group hawks a loogie of chewing tobacco near you and the infected male. You remain quiet as they circle you, "Still bound by the laws? Not able to kill?" You see Gesang approaching, his form shimmers out from view, blending into the background.---Roll a 1d100 and pick from below.--->1. play it dumb. "Agreed upon terms cannot be completed if the accountable party is expired. One: Demolition kit is due.">2. Fuck them up, medium style. No words needed.>3. "the male will be returned to the one: Miss Hannah and one: Miss Jenn-o for research and treatment. You will: Comply.">4. Wait for Gesang to handle it.
Rolled 13 (1d100)>>4657632>>1. play it dumb. "Agreed upon terms cannot be completed if the accountable party is expired. One: Demolition kit is due."
Rolled 51 (1d100)>>4657632>4. Wait for Gesang to handle it.we shall wait
Rolled 11 (1d100)>>4657632>4. Wait for Gesang to handle it.gesang gotta man up
>>4657655Free thinking machines are perceived as an intolerable threat, even in this time of great struggle. The biological entities are hostile, and you have concluded that downplaying your sapience is the best move forward. "Agreed upon terms cannot be completed if the accountable party is expired. One: Demolition kit is due." The group becomes agitated "He's playing fucking dumb with us! Go get the cutting torch, we don't need this shit going errant on us.">>4657887>51: Semi lethal.Problematic. you will not be dismantled, but a rampage against non rampant infected would not garner a desired result. You point behind them, with the intent to walk away when they look. Instead one of the men expereinces his knee violently snapping backwards, and another seems to fly into the side of a modular shipping container, all on his own accord. Aural sensors pick up Gesang but cannot pinpoint his location as he speaks. "This machine stopped a very bad situation, your gratitude expressed needs work." The leader's head jerks backwards as a plasma SMG manifests in the air, pressed to his skull. Gesang's form distorts into visible light. "I guess...what I am saying is, you really need to go away or you will die."Gesang's bravado is short lived as a metal pipe hits him across the back and the two standing enforcers move to terminate him. Your drill arm punches through the torso of one Enforcer and grabs the other; with a yank the still living man is dragged into his associate's chest, folding in half at the spine with an unnatural crack and gurgling scream. The violence is over in the time it takes for a lathe to turn a man to taffy. Gesang and several onlookers look at the horrific scene; one man folded in half, yanked partway through the torso of another. "We...need to leave."--->1. Silently agree and haul ass outta dodge. (easy)>2. "Yes. Let us return with the Speaker." (mid)>3. "No. I will obtain the demolition kit." (hard)roll 1d100
Rolled 51 (1d100)>>4658565>The violence is over in the time it takes for a lathe to turn a man to taffy.Hey, just like my rekt videos!!>3. "No. I will obtain the demolition kit." (hard)
Rolled 52 (1d100)>>4658565>>3. "No. I will obtain the demolition kit." (hard)
>>4658565Wait a minute, I thought you picked whichever choice had majority of votes or alternatively the highest roll? Why was the option 1 picked despite option 4 having two votes? It wasn't the highest roll either. And then 51 was randomly used as a combat roll.
Rolled 83 (1d100)>>4658565>>3. "No. I will obtain the demolition kit." (hard)
Rolled 1 (1d100)>>4658565>3. "No. I will obtain the demolition kit." (hard)THE KIIIIT
>>4658998>1https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B7VvCfz8iss <Metal gear solid peace walker AI dubstep - Key One>"No. I will obtain the demolition kit." You push Gesang aside as he tries you halt your action. The better part of an hour is spent breaking the equipment and your own components down and fitting them back together. Gesang watches, worried, while the Speaker's infected form continues to adapt, perhaps mutate.Bit by bit, the demolition kit is layered into your composite structure. Diamond like material anti kinetic panels and exotic structural reinforcements tie together your hardhsell to exoskeleton, exoskeleton to actual chassis, down to your core endoskeleton frame. Mass and density, brings security and capability. Integrated high throughput conduits and molecular capacitor banks allow for explosive output while grounded heat shunts provide a robust defense against thermal damage from extended operation.The last item socketed in is smaller, but would have added a a bulge to your chassis; unsatisfactory. It's relocation was accounted for early in the design. The Thermic lance would be relocated to the drill claw on the left arm. Armored cabling was buried in between what little space densely placed components and step up/ step down gearing offered.Despite a smaller size compared to a pacification android, you register that your enhanced density and mass results in you outweighing one. Visually not much has changed to the outside of your superstructure. A pleasing conclusion. Awareness would need to be maintained for new groundpressure and weight parameters. ---the bad.>HEAVY. Fragile structures will suffer, and your winch attachment is no longer an easy roll to recover from falls.>LOUD. Even in quiet moments, AS0L makes significant electrical whines, hums, pneumatic hisses, servo growl and coil whine.>COMPLETE. is not capable of any further conventional upgrades to his chassis.>OVERKILL. Do not ask for precision or delicate work from AS0L. You will not get it.the good>Tough as fuck- Shrug off damage like rain. Obsolete yet easily repairable material ensures continued field operation.>Strong as fuck- AS0L Can go head to head with much larger entities.>Pocket giant- AS0L is 50 pounds of ass kicking compressed into a 10 pound bag.
>>4659246https://youtu.be/5Lavc18vesE <LAZERPUNK - VIRUS>Refusing to go offline for the final stage of the upgrade, you execute a rolling reboot of all systems; using coprocessor redundancy to ensure continued up time. In these sluggish moments you see something you are unable to do anything about:The Infected berserker, formerly the Speaker breaks free of it's bonds. Cables whip around freely yet bound to it's flesh and seemingly animated while sparks of electricity arc to the ground, the corpses, anything. The ground nearby flows like liquid as hidden subterranean feeder tendrils channel refined materials to the growing form of this organism. The slain individuals rapidly reconfigure into something new that defies classification by your sensors. Gesang gasps a breath and speaks one word "monsters."The infected creatures in front of you only superficially resemble humans. Grotesquely muscled, painted on grey skin highlights tendon and wire. The former speaker opens it's mouth, and never stops. The maw splits open down the face and neck as it begins to howl; your inbuilt defensive logic mutes your speakers as foreign code is identified in the acoustic attack. The decision to remove your wireless capability has been rewarded. Via your vibrational and seismic sensors you detect similar signals from multiple distances, repeating. The signal is spreading. All around you, the densely packed stadium is succumbing to this new infection, Gesang is clutching his head and apparently screaming while throwing up biological functional fluid.https://youtu.be/PkAmtm39_p8 <Dan Terminus - The Wrath Of The Code (feat. Perturbator)>Gesang has collapsed, but the skull attached to him is flashing an identifiable visual code at you from one hollow socket. "Get me out of here you imbicile!" meanwhile a pack of <AUGMENTED> surround you.---Fight for your life. Roll 2d100. One of you, the other for Gesang.
Rolled 91, 61 = 152 (2d100)>>4659282
Rolled 60, 31 = 91 (2d100)>>4659282
Rolled 5, 81 = 86 (2d100)>>4659282
Rolled 14, 59 = 73 (2d100)>>4659282I will help!!
>>4659295 >>465936291, 81https://youtu.be/TJiVPUZ0svY <Noir deco-Future Noir>---Internal cell array: Nominal, power distribution: Nominal, actuation systems: Nominal...all nominal. All checks good. Tools online. Safeties off.The low drone of your existence cranks up into a turbine like whine. The machine that is AS0L is assured in it's survival. Even as a living tide of augmented swarm. Claws slide harmlessly off your shell, and those that find purchase in joints are crushed with simple actuation. Meanwhile your thermal drill flares to life, it's scream joining the drone of machine noise that is your personal harbinger. Intense vibrations from the drill briefly threaten to rip your arm apart until it hits optimal RPM and self stabilizes. the Skull watches you in rapt curiosity as flesh is harvested in a manner not unlike a snowblower's operation. Where your drill is absent, legs piston and crush those that fall beneath you, and a mechanical arm meant for finer tasks rips and tears, feeding the larger organisms into the drill. Ah, the joys of distributed processing.<continued tomorrow>
>>4660777(90 or better was the number to clear for Gesang, AS0L's roll was lower. Adjusting for excess success.)Where the augmented organisms were no issue for you, they were for Gesang; or whatever was currently wearing his body. The young man jerkily rose to his feet, the grey arm that replaced his original moved erratically, twisting and shifting into a blade like form. He was soon at your back, slashing in timed union with your own onslaught.The pile of corpses around you rises quickly, the former infected seeming to have no concern for their own well being. Out of all likelihood you conclude either the transformation the infected have undergone is terminal to their intelligence: unlikely. Secondary: Controller node to slave network.The destruction of biomechanical forms meets an acceptable level of efficiency between energy expenditure, time invested, and mechanical wear vs requisite elimination of hostile forms. Each organism destroyed in the crowd around you seems to feed input into the evolutionary adaptation of the next. The carapaces are thicker, causing reduced mobility. Wet squelches give way to crunches. A familiar voice interrupts your observations "Machine. The horde is reconstructing from the remains behind us, while you will likely survive; I and this host will not. If you would please; to borrow an old earth phrase. Get the fucking lead out."A quick glance behind you garners visual data on the resurrecting horde. The behavior is entirely new; mulched mass reconstitutes itself into new structures that rapidly become adapted creatures. Some of the infected are clearly fleeing, others join in the attack. You note that inorganic material is being broken down slowly, feeding the growth. It would seem there is a limit to the adaption; new forms are always a humanoid bipedal template. Observations are halted as a clawed hand grabs hold of Gesang's chest, ripping out his sternum causing significant damage. There is less fluid loss than expected, but field repairs are required.Multi tasking, on arm continues to attack with the thermal drill while the other shoves a trauma plug into the chest cavity of Gesang. There is no nearby material suitable for a patch, so you utilize insitu repairs with E-Z's skull. Grabbing the eye socks it is pressed into the cavity; fresh nano patch sealing around the wound, closing it off. Sufficient.
>>4661507Nearby is the rapidly changing form of the speaker, it towers at 3 meters tall now and still growing, bulking out. If you were to charge, you could potentially make contact with it, but Gesang would be on his own.Alternatively, an exit could be made through the crowd. Other options exist as you consider them, these were just the first two. Finer consideration of metadata about all parameters could garner superior options.--->1. Charge and leave Gesang to his own Capability.>2. Flee.>3. Write in a finer plan.
Rolled 24 (1d100)>>4661507>2. Flee.I don't think there is any better way to phrase this one. We gotta flee!
>>4661529>>4661570>>4661765All options considered, you are not a tactical droid, and not a combat model. Your specialty is and always will be survival above all else, and this location is not conducive to survival. With thermal drill screaming, you mow through a crowd of augmented, their flesh ever shifting to meet the new threat that has been identified: You. Already claws terminate into ultra fine cutting tips, worrying away at your hard shell, creating deeper scores in the metal. "Entity: E-Z. Stay close." The two of you rend and slash, burn and shoot your way through the crowd. Trying to recover the dumptruck is a lost option, its already over run and the ranged weapons delivered are being turned on you.Gesang/ E-Z has already activated it's thermoptic camouflage, vanishing into a haze like distortion until fully invisible. "We shall regroup at the brothel, threat assessment is low enough that you stand a high chance of survival. Follow the path we took. I am attempting to contact the stranded Dominion forces."--->Retreat back to the brothel. Let the dominion and locals deal with this problem.>Attempt to demolish the stadium via overloading it's underground equipment facility. This will potentially mitigate the threat.>Write in.
>>4662270>Retreat back to the brothel. Let the dominion and locals deal with this problem.
>>4662270>>Attempt to demolish the stadium via overloading it's underground equipment facility. This will potentially mitigate the threat.
Rolled 72 (1d100)>>4662285>>4662790Some would claim there was humanity in your choice. Your records would indicate the weighted value of threat mitigation. Without any requirement to ensure the wellbeing of others, you were free to execute demolition work. Demolition...was a good cause. It cleared the way of the old, broken, obsolete. It made way for growth, and many other reasons that you actually didn't care about. Deep down, the machine designated AS0L had a preference of destruction over creation. Creation was duty, and it was executed well. Very well. But destruction; to any observer, there was a degree of glee that was shown in your actions. A core worlder would have recognized that and had you deactivated long ago. Out here though; not even a second though. Wonderful. Really lovely stuff.A nearby maintenance tunnel was accessed by stomping in a manhole cover; the hundred pounds of steel punched through the concrete that surrounded it with a littler persuasion from your leg. It wouldn't need to go back on after this. There was a ladder, but you elected to simply drop down; roughly 2000lbs of industrial machinery splintering cement below you. From behind your welder's mask, a monoeye sensor took in the environment. There were rats; purple, orange blooded things. Oragnic. Already changing from nano infection; larger. Grabbing on in your more dexterous claw you examine it. At least twice the size of normal; enhanced aggression, hexagonal armor segments under the flesh. It squeaks in pain as flesh is pealed away. Flesh, armor, mesh anchored to muscle...bones...now flexible biopolymer. Fluid transfer vessels bled momentarily before snapping shut. Quality. This kind of engineering would be seen in machines, not biologicals. With the structural study concluded, your fist snaps shut with a servo screech. The rat explodes.Ahead is an obvious set of steel access doors, acting sentry to the machine room of the stadium. They simply give way with a shove. Your sense of appreciation has grown since your awakening, and at this moment you appreciate the newfound strength of your frame. An experimental yank on the door sees it partially rip off it's full length hinge, shearing away concrete with it.It was time to destroy.---1d100>sabotage multiple systems and blow up the stadium. (easy but you will roll against my roll, check to pass is 20)>Destroy support columns and cave in the stadium floor. (mid. still roll against my roll, check to pass is 60)>why not both? (Hard roll, I have no chance of success. check to pass is 80)what is my roll for? Who knows...mysterious.
Rolled 100 (1d100)>>4664264>>why not both?
Rolled 42 (1d100)>>4664264>>sabotage multiple systems and blow up the stadium. (easy but you will roll against my roll, check to pass is 20)
>>4664279>100https://youtu.be/WzZVDjyIi-w <Fear Factory - Zero Signal (Instrumental Version)>---There were infected down here, now evolving, changing, better called augmented. They swarmed at you, a screaming pack, driven by the awareness above. Your moneye glowed brightly in the dark, behind the tint of the welder's mask. There was hesitation before overriding command pushed them forward again. Fear. You had taught their network; fear. Somehow the new data that fear had utility seemed to comfortably socket into your database. Useful.All powercell slots started a warmup cycle to reduce the shock they were about to experience. your multi tool folded out while the thermal drill began it's spin up cycle, a drone increasing in pitch to a whine, a mechanical scream that echoed off the concrete walls of this place soon removed. As an artistic flourish you left the drill claws on your claw open enough to allow for the centrally located thermal lance to flare to life. Once more, the horde paused, once more driven on against their will. Animal instinct erased now, the intelligence directed them.The slaughter didn't impede your work, pillar by pillar, you burned, ripped, or crushed support structures; keenly aware of the minimum to keep the entire stadium standing. The same could not be said for the bodies that now laid in ruin. Splattered against the ceiling, wrapped around a pole, impaled on broken pipes, and scattered across several dozen meters. the ground was wet with something that passed as blood for the organisms now slain. If you were capable of research it would have fascinated you; but, given your format, it was just wet sloshing around clawed boot units.They were still adapting, even as you continued to demolish the final few steel girders and pillars. The process took the better part of an hour; and the place beneath the arena was now blanketed with corpses. Rich biomass that kept reforming into new creatures. The unrelenting destruction you offered outpaced their adaption cycles, soon complex creatures gave way to desperation, and swarms of small, malformed things surged at you. The intelligence above, the former speaker, could not stop you. No pathetic biological creature could, regardless of half implemented measures at machine supremacy.Several ruptured gas and liquid fuel lines had been filling the atmosphere of this place for a while, but that was just a side effect of the storage vessels themselves being allowed to over pressurize after all failsafes had been defeated. Blowout panels were welded over, relief valves fused, and computer control simply bypassed or ripped away. Even your frame would not likely survive the resultant explosion. Leaving provided no issue, however something measuring approximately 20 feet towered at your egress point as you left a storm drain after being engulfed in a fireball from the resultant destruction.
>>4664394https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BTUI9BvWIa0<Hi-Tech Hate · Fear Factory>---The bulk of the organism rivaled that of an industrial grade ultra heavy robot. Thick, corded tendon and vein blended into polymer black skin. All around it's joints were pistons blending into tissue. "You fucking piece of shit. Everything done really has screwed up my day. We were going to the bunker, then you come along...It all goes sideways. Half assed attempt at saving a life, too damn stupid to die, and now you went and blew it all up. All of it!" At the top of that body is a small head, the speaker. You recognize the face's structure. "Suppose I should thank you...Learned a lot from that. Adapted this...body...hard to hold onto the me. But you? Gone. Dead. Whatever a machine is when it stops moving; that'll be you I reckon."Oversized fists slam together. The infected was overly muscled and top heavy on legs so short the hands nearly touched the ground. "Too fucking stupid to even reply." your head pans up the creature, and you activate your monoeye's thermal enhancement causing it to glow red. An external speaker gives off the generic warning noise all industrial machines use when dangerous work is underway. A slow plod forward by you is met with a freight train punch that engulfs the space you were standing.---Gesang watched from a distance, having recovered to an extent. It looked like AS0L was crushed by a fist larger than him. When the giant infected attempted to pull it's arm back it appeared to be struggling. A shower of blood and meat revealed the robot had yanked out an enormous arm bone straight through the closed fist. That bone was used as an impromptu bludgeon, smashing the knees out of it's former owner, and then again as a massive nail, driven through the abdomen of the prone infected. From the distance the blinding flare of a thermal lance caused his optical cybernetics to shut off in self preservation of the sensors.---Your lance cut off legs, and then flailing arms; the heat cauterizing the stumps and dramatically slowing down any repairs the nano machines within the Speaker's flesh could enact. The head was unlikely to hold any true brain, and it's destruction was not practical; but this was not exactly a practical moment. No. Primary speakers crackle to life as you address your fallen prey. "Biological...capable of networked transmission. Correct?" By now the likelihood that several cyberattacks were launched against your missing wireless function are high. No response from the organism. "You adapt your dependent nodes. I detected: fear. Overridden. Implement fear for dissemination to dependent nodes." Really, even this conversation was pointless, but experimental. You were trying something new. Terror. The Speaker's eyes locked onto you, though it felt no appreciable pain, it's impending end was impacting emotional parameters in it's face. The multitool was jammed through it's lower jaw and ignited.
>>4664433https://youtu.be/LrXKdPvvV1I <Night Force · Power Glove>---The process to ensure total eradication of the Speaker was achieved via pyrolysis after thorough mechanical separation of it's structure. Deliberation in the act allowed for several partial regeneration cycles. White noise and other erratic displays played out over nearby holographic advertisement kiosks and panel displays during the process, visual artifacting of twisted faces or memories played out during sanitization. With the act complete, you returned back to homestation: brothel.---The coming days showed an immediate series of changes in the infected of the city. Some regained a degree of their mind, while other devolved into things worse than animals. Tribal warfare broke out, and even amongst the survivors the change grabbed at them; though thanks to the work of Jenn-o and perhaps the late E-Z, the change only reached their bodies while their minds held onto the finer points of civility. Hanna would go on to reach out to the survivors of the dominion strike fleet, and broker a truce with them. Better to vanish into the cosmic background radiation for a while, and let the dominion forget about this little backwater world, less a more thorough purge come.---The Infected as a whole displayed an usual wariness around androids, which survivors used to their advantage, often keeping a robotic custodian on retainer, or rebuilding and salvaging what could be saved from the encroaching wastes now that terraforming plants had failed across the globe.---A patchwork network of surviving satellites and radiostations brought communication, and with it, conflict, to the survivors. Vehicles were a precious commodity, enabling survivors to reach resources, claim them, and escape with them. Surviving cities, outposts, and otherwise became bastions where by virtue, a dweller was affiliated with their "Tribe".---In the coming decade since the great break down; humanity died, survivalists thrived, and the Whores of Hannah ride. Amongst them all though, a hero is acknowledged, a saint of steel, known only as "A Soul". It often wanders the wastes for months on end, rumors of it's deeds both compassionate and brutal following in it's wake, before returning back to the City of Whores.<End of thread 1. A scrapworld story, based in Cursed's Silent Stars setting. Special thanks to all the players, lurkers, and shitposters.>
Thanks for the ride, QM.