[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Board:  
Settings   Home
4chan
/qst/ - Quests


File: opimage16.png (312 KB, 800x700)
312 KB
312 KB PNG
You’re STANLEY PARBLE: a girl with a weird name and an even weirder tale: after a centuries-old lich woke up during your graveyard shift at the GOOD BOY DOGGIE BONE factory, your simple life of janitorial work became a bit more… Complicated.

Sure, you became pals with your now-sentient skeleton (you named him LY) AND gained some nifty SUPER POWERS from eating MAGICAL BONE MARROW, but that doesn’t change the fact that your hometown of CLEARWATER, CALIFORNIA is overrun by HOMICIDAL SKELETONS! Even worse, the guy in charge is dead-set on taking over the rest of the world while he’s at it! Not cool!

Your growing popularity, it seems, is both a blessing AND a curse. Thanks to a tip from CHRISTY: YOUR GOOD BOY COMPANY CONTACT AND PERSONAL ASSISTANT EXTRAORDINAIRE, you and your merry gang of misfits were finally able to cross an old sidequest off of your TO-DO LIST: 'Find the Missing People!" The trail led to an old ART GALLERY-- its non-Euclidean and very avant-garde walls housing a deranged tenant you haven't seen, and would be better off not seeing, since the threads were in single digits: JED P. SLAUSON: A.K.A THE CORPSE-ART KILLER!

Eager to get to know you better, Jed bypassed the tried-and-true route of buying you dinner in favor of a decidedly more sinister method--one that involved several unwilling participants and a handful of tricky questions on morality. So, you know, the usual serial killer stuff. Though not every hostage made it out in one piece, an ART BITCH is still an ART BITCH--foiling Jed's plans with the help of your pals SYBIL, GUS, and MITZI, you cornered the undead killer just as the building was set to collapse, escaping just in time to grab ICE CREAM outside!

With the surviving hostages and the culprit's skull in GOOD BOY CORPORATE SECURITY'S custody, you and your gang were free to set your sights on your main goal: the elimination of THE SEA WITCH: THE LICH'S FINAL LIEUTENANT. Unfortunately the dumb bitch decided to hole up in ATLANTIS, and with the possibility of a ravenous SEA DEMON patrolling CLEARWATER'S coast, getting to her will be anything but simple!

To make it simpler, you sent one team to the CLEARWATER MUSEUM for clues, the other to THE UNIVERSITY for some expert advice. You and your crack team consisting of LIL’ STANLEY, SYBIL, MITZI, AND TALBOT are headed to the one landmark you have that could possibly lead you to the sunken city:

PITCHFORK ROCK.

With an ash-stuffed breeze blowing past your face and a fistful of determination, THIS is where your story continues…

https://youtu.be/_wiwdlu-Zg0
>>
File: takeyourtime.gif (138 KB, 990x900)
138 KB
138 KB GIF
>>5243275
Welcome to BONES QUEST: rated the #1 Quest among countless star systems, probably! Make sure to check out the following resources to look hip and ‘in the know’:

Archive Link to catch up with the story!
>https://lws.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Bones%20Quest

Twitter account for updates!
>https://twitter.com/DemBonez3

Imgur Page for quest and FAN ART! You make it, we display it!
>https://imgur.com/a/dvF3SCN

A HANDY PASTEBIN for INVENTORY, SKILLS, and MORE:
>https://pastebin.com/u/DemBonez3/1/TvtRhtJK

Rolls are handled by a 1d100--I take the BEST OF THREE ROLLS! Certain boosts and maluses will be applied based on the situation and existing skills. Describing your actions, write-ins, FANART and GENERAL CREATIVITY are all APPRECIATED AND REWARDED--we like to keep things LIGHT and CHILL here, so come on in and have some fun!

UPDATE: I've been working to whip up a separate website to easily read Bones Quest--it's a slow process, but I definitely aim on making it happen once this dumpster fire is completed. If anyone has experience in making that shit happen, I'd be happy to hear some advice! Might also be looking to commission a few STAN ARTS as well, especially of supporting characters. If you're an ART BITCH, feel free to hit me up via Twitter!

>CONTD.
>>
File: redsunoverparadise.jpg (44 KB, 768x512)
44 KB
44 KB JPG
>>5243280
A blood-red sun peeks through a veil of towering plumes of smoke as you let the ashy breeze rush through your hair. Sticking your arm out the passenger side window, you let out a relaxed sigh as you smile wistfully at the looted buildings lying dormant along the coastal street–not a bad day for a beach trip, huh, gang?

“It’ll be much nicer after we’ve dealt with the remaining Undead.” Replies Sybil from one of the van’s back seats. “Not that I was ever much of a beach bum, of course…”

“At least we don’t gotta worry about parking passes anymore...” Mitzi shrugs, one hand on the wheel, the other dangling out the window. “Those prices were murder, man.”

“Speakin’ of murder,” Talbot interjects, legs spread wide as he reclines in the seat opposite Syb, “How are we gonna find this SEA BITCH anyways?”

Didn’t he read the damn recap!? You’ve got a landmark from a TREASURE MAP– what more could you need?

“Well a few more would certainly be appreciated…” Sybil sighs as she closes her eyes and adopts a meditative stance. “I can try to guide us when we get closer, but anything after that is beyond me…”

“Beyond lots of folks, actually.” Mitzi adds with a slight chuckle in her voice. “Your landmark’s pretty infamous among CLEARWATER’S diving community, y’know.”

And she’s pretty infamous for telling you shit you already know! Besides, you add, shooting your driver a sideways glare, danger’s a part of the job at this point–no way around it!

“True, just thought I’d mention it again.” Mitz counters with a noncommittal shrug! “Well hopefully the other dorks can scrounge up some clues–that oughta’ make things easier.”

You lean your head further out the window. Did anyone hear anything from either team yet?

“Nope.” Talbot grunts. “Probably takin’ their sweet time at the gift shop or whatever… I say we just track down a BOAT and get out there!”

“That might be easier than you think…” Sybil murmurs, eyes flitting briefly. “I detect quite a bit of life along the coast–well, UNlife, to be precise.” She adds, furrowing her pale brow.

GREAT.” Groans your ex-bodyguard, “How the hell do more boneheads help us, huh?!”

“Well,” Sybil sighs as she watches Lil’ Stanley, the team’s resident wild raccoon and your on-and-off pet, tear into a sack of grape gummies, “If they’re of the ‘buccaneer’ variety then they might have a dinghy in their possession, at least, or know where to find one.”

“Worth a shot…” Mitzi shrugs as she takes the van down a street closer to the water’s edge. “If, y’know, they’re some of the FRIENDLY ones. Any clue where they’re hanging out?”

“Well…” Sybil replies in her 'I have an idea' voice...

>CONTD.
>>
>>5243282
In which direction do Syb’s senses send you? CHOOSE 1 OF THE FOLLOWING, IF YOU PLEASE!

>THERE’S A SEAFOOD RESTAURANT NOT FAR FROM HERE–I SENSE QUITE A FEW SKELETONS THERE!
>THE PIER’S NEARBY, STANLEY–YOU AND YOUR BROTHER FREQUENTED THAT AREA, DIDN’T YOU?
>I SENSE A LARGE BEACH HOUSE–ONE WITH A PRIVATE DOCK!
>A BEACH IS NEARBY–AND A BONFIRE. PERHAPS THEY’RE HAVING A BBQ?
>THERE’S A QUIET MARINA NEARBY IN CASE WE AREN’T KEEN ON RUNNING INTO ANY SKELETONS…
>THERE’S A PARKING STRUCTURE NOT TOO FAR AWAY–WE COULD USE IT TO GET THE LAY OF THE LAND AND WAIT TO HEAR FROM THE OTHERS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5243285
>>THERE’S A SEAFOOD RESTAURANT NOT FAR FROM HERE–I SENSE QUITE A FEW SKELETONS THERE!
>>
>>5243285
>THERE’S A SEAFOOD RESTAURANT NOT FAR FROM HERE–I SENSE QUITE A FEW SKELETONS THERE!
>>
>>5243343
>>5243443
>SEAFOOD DIET!

Writing! Got started a little late today, so this next update will be the last one for the evening--will continue TUESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST!
>>
File: datscent.gif (2.07 MB, 472x354)
2.07 MB
2.07 MB GIF
Before Syb can finish, your nostrils are suddenly tickled and caressed by a cornucopia of spicy, savory scents that render you near catatonic!

“... Stan?” Syb asks as a frown slowly forms on her face. “As I was say-”

Nope, you mutter under your breath, you already know where you wanna look! Half-diving, half-falling out of the passenger side window like an antsy dog, you immediately rise on all fours and gallop in the direction your nose takes you!

DAMN IT!” Snarls The Goth as you feel an otherworldly coldness nip at your back, “We haven’t even started the mission yet-”

Too late. Following the scent takes you along a seaside road littered with the skeletons of countless cars and the beach gear their drivers brought with them. Leaping over a particularly nasty-looking POOL NOODLE, you nearly stumble onto your face when your eyes lock with those of a familiar masked woodland critter!

LIL’ STANLEY… we meet again!

Hanging for dear life from your EVENING SANITATION COORDINATOR CAP, your ‘pet’ raccoon matches your crazed gaze for a moment before frantically jabbing a claw in the direction of the scent–oh, she just wants whatever’s cookin’, huh? The critter nods, sending tiny globs of drool splashing onto your freckled face! Alright, you shrug as you dust yourself off, that’s something you can both agree o-

RRRRRNGH!
Before you and your fuzzy counterpart can continue onward to your bonding experience, you feel a lithe, but familiar, body grab you from behind! Uh… you stammer, as the hairs on your neck freeze into gossamer icicles, h-hey, Syb-

Before you can explain, The Goth adjusts her grip and SUPLEXES you into the pavement!

“Ooof…” Grumbles Ly as you lie in a dazed heap on the street, “Wh-what happened? I remember some kinda’ smell…

“What happened,” Snarls Syb as both Mitz and Talbot appear from around the corner clapping, “Is you nearly ran off by yourself again!”

Oh, you cough, that’s right…

“Gotta admit it smells pretty damn good, though.” Mitz adds as Lil’ Stanley sniffs your battered body. Yea, great, at least she didn’t get hurt!

>CONTD.
>>
File: floatingrestaurant.jpg (869 KB, 2000x1500)
869 KB
869 KB JPG
>>5243581
“Ehhh.” Talbot shrugs, nose wrinkled in disagreement, “Never really been much of a fish guy, to be honest. Too many bones.”

THAT’S what you smell, you hiss as you levitate back onto your feet! It’s… it’s AMAZING!

Indeed it is. Brushing the dust off of your coveralls, you and your pals take a moment to stare at the COLOSSAL SHIP anchored to a dock just down the road! Swaying against its moorings to the beat of a jaunty sea shanty and raucous laughter rumbling from within, the ship is alive with the smell of beer-battered grub and more patrons than you can wag a stick at!

“Lemme guess…” Mitzi mumbles, “Sk-”

Her answer comes in the form of a SKELETON being launched out of an upper deck porthole like a cannonball! Sailing through the air, the SKELETAL BUCCANEER’S shiny gold teeth and polished hook glitter like jewels as the drunken sailor lands in the turbulent water below with an unceremonious splash! Watching from afar, you and the others grow increasingly uncomfortable as the pirate fails to surface again.

“He uh… us bones don’t float, remember?” Groans Ly’s disembodied voice in your ear! “Guy’s probably walkin’ da’ buzz off.”

Oh. Right. Cracking your back, you chance a few more steps towards the floating restaurant to get a better look.

SKELETONS.” Sybil mutters, voice distorted and eyes glowing blue. “Lots.”

“So what’s the problem?” Asks Talbot as he joins you at your side! “We kicked their Captain’s butt, remember? These guys are probably Andy’s pals, or whatever!”

You distinctly recall your fight with CAPTAIN MENDOZA being one-on-one, not a group thing, but you opt not to call your ex-bodyguard out on it. Maybe that food scent’s put you in a decent mood?

“T’s right about da’ other thing, though!” Ly adds with pride in his voice! “Hell, we still have da’ guy’s HAT in our INVENTORY, don’t we?”

Hey, YEA! Retrieving the item in question from your pockets, you plop the haberdashery over your cap and tilt it to an appropriately-roguish angle!

“Not bad… not bad...” Mitzi remarks with a nod of approval. “It’d suck if these guys were loyal to the old captain though, huh?”

Yea, you growl, tapping your foot in irritation, it would!

>CONTD.
>>
File: craftysob.jpg (66 KB, 432x650)
66 KB
66 KB JPG
>>5243585
“Never fear, Stan–we’ve dealt with this kind of thing before!” Sybil exclaims as she puffs out her admittedly small chest. “I still have that GLAMOUR spell–why don’t I just disguise you and Mitzi as skeletons so you can go mingle? Maybe you can find us a vessel!”

“Hey…” Talbot grunts, “Why didn’t you offer to disguise me?”

“Too volatile.” Sybil retorts with a disapproving shake of her head. “We want to rub elbows, not break them.”

BULLSHIT!” Talbot howls as he stamps his foot on the ground in disbelief! “That is BULLSHIT, Syb-”

“You’ve got that ‘Ly’ guy with ya, right, Stan?” Mitzi asks, deftly sidestepping Talbot’s meltdown. “Does he see a boat or anything back there?”

“Yep.” Replies your skeleton as he darts to and from your body in his ASTRAL FORM! “Couple’a SPEEDBOATS, from da’ look of things–they’re all on da’ PORT side, or STARBOARD, or whatever–da’ one opposite us!”

You give the news a thoughtful nod and a few ‘hmm’s for good measure. Yes, you mumble to yourself, that could do nicely…

“They got BOATS?” Talbot asks, still barely recovered from his outburst two seconds ago, “Shit, what the hell are we waiting for? Let’s just burst in an’ take ‘em!”

“... and if there are too many of them?” Sybil asks, raising a pierced eyebrow his way. Your fellow Evening Sanitation Coordinator shrugs.

“They’re PIRATES! What are they gonna do–sing us to death? OoOOoh, scWaAwY!

“I hear keelhauling’s all the rage nowadays.” Mitzi replies as Sybil deftly swats away Talbot’s wiggling fingers from her face.

Before you can do the whole ‘A Few Options and a Write-In’ thing, your heart skips a few beats as you spot Lil’ Stanley’s small, but still VERY FAT form shimmy along a mooring line onto the boat! Damn it, you hiss, YOU were gonna ditch everyone and eat all the food! Stupid animal!

“Well now that your scheme’s thwarted,” Says Mitzi as she wraps a toned arm around your shoulder, “How’sabout we come up with a new plan?”

Fine, you groan, here’s what you’ll do…

>POP THAT CAP ON AND WALTZ IN LIKE YOU OWN THE DAMN PLACE! PIRATES DIG CHARISMA, DAMN IT, AND YOU OOZE THAT STUFF!
>PLAY IT SAFE AND LET SYBIL GLAMOUR YOU AND MITZ! (GLAMOUR IS A DAILY SPELL!-ED.)
>NO GLAMOURS NEEDED–JUST SNEAK AROUND TO THE BOATS! HELL, YOU COULD PROBABLY SWIM OVER TOO!
>STRIKE FIRST, STRIKE HARD! LAUNCH AN ATTACK ON THE BOATSTAURANT WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE ELEMENT OF SURPRISE!
>CREATE A DISTRACTION ON THIS END OF THE BOAT–YOU CAN SLIP OVER TO THE SPEEDBOATS IN THE CHAOS!
>YOU KNOW WHAT? THE FOOD DOESN’T SMELL THAT GOOD–LET’S FIND A BETTER OPTION (NOTE: THE FOOD DOES SMELL THAT GOOD.)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5243591
>PLAY IT SAFE AND LET SYBIL GLAMOUR YOU AND MITZ! (GLAMOUR IS A DAILY SPELL!-ED.)
>>
>>5243591
>>PLAY IT SAFE AND LET SYBIL GLAMOUR YOU AND MITZ! (GLAMOUR IS A DAILY SPELL!-ED.)

sussy impostor bakas
>>
>>5243591
>CREATE A DISTRACTION ON THIS END OF THE BOAT–YOU CAN SLIP OVER TO THE SPEEDBOATS IN THE CHAOS!
>>
>>5243649
>>5243680
>GLAMOURRRRR

>>5244069
>DISTRACTION!

Writing! Sorry for the hour delay--meeting went a lot longer than expected!
>>
File: mitzskelmaybe.jpg (16 KB, 296x300)
16 KB
16 KB JPG
Friendly or not, you reason as you thoughtfully rub your chin, you don’t wanna make waves here–best to go in quietly and get what you want!

“... dat’ bein’ da’ food inside, right?”

… shut up, Ly. Turning to face Sybil, you give your pale-faced pal a nod–alright, sexy, let’s DO it!

“Right!” Syb says with a grin before taking a few steps back! “Have Ly find me once you’ve procured a vessel–we’ll be nearby in case anything happens.”

“How, uh…” Mitzi begins as she sidles up next to you, “How long do these disguises last, anyways? I’ve spent a long time working on this image, y’know.”

“A little over an HOUR--maybe more, maybe less.” Mutters Syb as she sticks her tongue out in concentration. “Depends on my concentration… speaking of…” She mutters, blue flames slowly flickering to life within her eyes, “Try not to distract me–the spell’s perfectly safe, of course, but if I mess up-”

“Mess UP!?” Exclaims Talbot with an incredulous look on his dumb face, “Wh-wh-what’s THAT supposed to mean!?”

Shut UP, dumbass, or you’ll mess HIM up, you snarl as Sybil continues to chant under her breath. Exchanging one last glare, your view of your fellow Evening Sanitation Coordinator is suddenly obstructed by a thick plume of blue smoke! Sucking in a bit in surprise, you end up stumbling out of the cloud coughing and wheezing like your granddad used to do! Halfway through covering your mouth, however, you notice some big changes in your hand–namely that in place of endearing freckled skin are pale yellow digits sticking out of a long leather coat!

Voila!” Decrees Syb with a triumphant grin, “Not my best work, but…”

But it’ll do, you finish as you check out your new look! Clad in a pair of red and white striped breeches and two ragged old buckled boots, you’re especially impressed by the bare ribs hanging out of the front of your coat! Neato!

“You can say that again!” Following Mitzi’s voice, you find yourself standing face to face with a SKELETON PIRATE clad in knee-high leather boots, dark patchwork pants, and a low-cut blouse held on by a tight embroidered corset! It’d be a bit more impressive if Mitz had skin right now, but you can certainly appreciate the attempt!

“Well?” She asks, striking a roguish pose. “Not too distracting, right, Stan?”

“N-nah…” Grunts Talbot as he examines her new look from top to bottom. She was talking to YOU, dick!

“Okay…” He drones, still spellbound. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your bony arm around Mitz’ and make for the restaurant entrance!

“Remember to disguise your voices!” Syb warns as the two of you tromp with purpose towards the source of the intoxicating scents! “And PLEASE try not to get distracted…”

If you ain’t out in five minutes, you reply, call the president!

>CONTD.
>>
File: skelepiratebar.jpg (359 KB, 1024x819)
359 KB
359 KB JPG
>>5244865
A wave of pure, unfiltered revelry hits your face long before you and Mitz push your way through the door. Barely dodging a queasy skeleton pirate with a sickly green pallor stumbling out the door, you and Skele-Mitz find yourself smack dab in a bone-afide pirate-palooza!
https://youtu.be/xCU45_GVsyY
The restaurant’s tables heave and groan under the weight of an army of skeleton pirates–their wooden frames pushed to the limit as the partygoers dance, sing, and wrestle on top! A thin layer of spilled booze seeps through the floor around the bar, but its occupants are too busy chattering and drinking to notice.

Barely ducking a wayward beer bottle, you shake a fist at a trio of skeletons swinging from a chandelier above you! As another one loses his shaky grip on his tankard, one of the several skeleton parrots soaring around the restaurant manages to intercept it and chug its contents!

If any of the patrons notice your arrival, they sure as hell don’t show it, but who could blame them? You only have to take a few steps in before you feel a buzz coming on from the fumes alone, and as you exchange looks with Mitzi, you get the feeling she’s having what you’re having!

“Phew,” She mutters, trying and failing to shake off the secondhand tipsiness, “We uh… we oughta’ find someone with keys to one of those boats, huh?”

Sure, you nod, you can manage that! Cracking your exposed ribs, you take a moment to survey the room for anyone that fits the description.

“Just like da’ DINER, yea?” Ly asks as you immediately fixate on the bar. Sure, you shrug, but you won’t have to pull Art’s ass outta the fire this time around!

“That looks fun!” Mitzi remarks, pointing at a crowd of pirates dancing to a jaunty tune played by a band of skeletons on the far end of the establishment! “I uh… I mean, ‘promising!’” Ignoring her wink, you continue your stakeout–past a crowd gathered around two skeletons clashing swords lie a few doors… no doubt leading out to where your boats are.

“Eyes on da’ prize, cupcake…” Ly reminds you as you scan the soiree for any sign of a key or your capricious woodland critter, “Let’s get what we need and jet!”

This place is ripe for the pickins’, you wager, but where’s a girl supposed to find a KEY or two around here?

>CHECK THE BAR–SEEMS LIKE A GOOD PLACE TO GET SOME FO-ER, INTEL!
>MITZ CLEARLY WANTS TO DANCE–MAYBE YOU CAN PILFER A KEY ON THE DANCE FLOOR?
>SWORD FIGHTS IN A RESTAURANT? NO WAY YOU’RE GONNA MISS CHECKING THAT OUT!
>HEY, WHAT ARE THOSE BONEHEADS DOING OVER THERE? (WRITE-IN)
>>
Sorry, all, but this will probably be the only update tonight--day was longer than I expected and I'm definitely feeling it. Will definitely be ready to write more WEDNESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST, though! Thanks for playing and for your patience--trying to get back into doing longer, more frequent updates, but it's a slow process, apparently.
>>
>>5244872
>>CHECK THE BAR–SEEMS LIKE A GOOD PLACE TO GET SOME FO-ER, INTEL!
>>
>>5244872
>CHECK THE BAR–SEEMS LIKE A GOOD PLACE TO GET SOME FO-ER, INTEL!
While we're doing that we should also send Ly to scout around
>>
>>5245109
This, boss.
>>
>>5244881
>>5245109
>>5245680
>RAISING THE BAR!

Writing!
>>
File: skeldrink.jpg (954 KB, 2797x3765)
954 KB
954 KB JPG
You motion your bony colleague towards a less-crowded area of the bar.

"Sure, I think we've earned a drink or two." Mitzi remarks as you both do your best 'skeleton strut' past a pair of skeletons wrestling each other on the floor. You were planning on gathering intel, you counter, but since she brought it up-

"Course ya' were." She interrupts, giving your exposed ribs a playful nudge. "Eyes on the prize, alright?"

'PRIZE' is your middle name, you scoff as a barrel-chested buccaneer clotheslines a pair of pirates off of their barstools! Exchanging a shrug, you and Mitzi wordlessly take their seats as the bony bar wench pours out the previous customer's tankards.

"Hoy, masters--y'here for the meetin', I reckon?"

No, 'master', you sneer, you're here for a DRINK! Impatiently tapping your finger on the empty bar for emphasis, it doesn't take long for the server to plant two frothy tankards of grog in front of you and Mitz. Raising your glasses to each other, you and Mitz clink the beverages together before taking a healthy swig!

"PHEW!" Mitz sighs, shaking her skull! "That's the stuff!"

She ain't wrong, you nod, planting your tankard next to hers with a loud 'thud'! You're gonna have to remember this place once this whole SKELETON APOCALYPSE blows over!

"Aye, say what ye will about them smoothskins--they be knowin' how ta' brew a fine ale, s'trewth."

S'trewth indeed! Taking another gulp of beer, you raise an eyebrow at the bar wench for a moment before remembering you don't have any eyebrows--what was that about a meeting?

"What rock ye just crawl out from?" She replies, looking at you with visible confusion. "'T’is all this lot be talkin' about--some 'Grand Revenge' for ole' CAP'N MENDOZA or somesuch."

"AYE!" Roars a skeleton wearing a Nor'easter hat in the seat next to you! "A dreadful plot ta' take back the port, it be, with plenty of bloodlettin' ta' boot!"

You frown, both at the skeleton's cocky declaration AND his smelly breath in your face. How is that possible, anyways? Didn't yo-errr, some SEXY BEAST take down their captain?

"What manner of seaman do ye be!?" Roars a skeleton from behind you wearing two eye patches! Hey Mitz, he said seaman! "T'is a shame, it be true, but a dead cap'n be an' opportunity, aye?"

"Aye!" Squawks a skeletal parrot as it takes a seat on your head! "It matter not who be steerin' the ship--A Gentleman of Fortune don't be hangin' up his hat til' the day he dies! SQUAAAWK!"

That… that’s not gonna happen if you bite the bullet, r-right?

“Course not, cupcake...” Ly remarks as the pirates and Mitz clink their tankards in assent! “No one could replace you!”

Damn right!

>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (17 KB, 228x182)
17 KB
17 KB GIF
>>5246096
"SoAaaAarrrrr..." Mitzi intervenes, "Who's uh... who be callin' the meeting? Arrr..."

"Arrr, that be a good 'arrr', it be, especially for a wench!" Remarks Two-Patch as he gives Mitzi an encouraging slap on the back! "Ye could learn a thing or two, lad."

You'll learn when you FEEL like it, alright!? AR! Now answer her damn question already!

"Aye, the question..." Two-Patch nods, exchanging looks with the ceiling above the parrot's head. "Folk be tellin' tales of another who was wronged by that Parble lass-"

"If she even BE a lass!" Hisses Nor'easter with a worried look on his bearded face! "I hear she be born from a land critter--one wit’ a bandit’s mask that laid wit' a DEMON!"

She BE a lass, okay!? Clearing your nonexistent throat, you motion for the swabbies to continue.

"Anywho, they be harborin' a hatred burnin' hotter than Ole' Scratch's parlor itself!"

"Aye!" Chirps the parrot before dipping his beak into your drink, "He be a real animal, he be!"

You and Mitzi exchange a worried glance. Who did you--er, STAN... piss off this time? And why the heck did they leave them ALIVE?

"Ye' can ask 'em yerself when they arrive!" Nor'easter cackles right in your ear! "All I be knowin' is that it'll be good ta' spill some blood again! Never got the chance afore that explosion on the flagship!"

"Aye," Snarls the parrot as you jealously guard your tankard from their beak, "it be a fine diversion while that damnable SEA BEAST still roams the waters... SQUAAAAWK!"

“Stan!” Ly exclaims, leaping back into your body from a scouting mission you don’t remember sending him on, “It’s-”

Before you can ask any more questions, the answer to a few of them kicks the front door open!
https://youtu.be/MVagm39bnTQ
"ALRIGHT, YOU BOOZE-SOAKED BUFFOONS, WHO'S READY TO GET REVENGE... FOR MY BROTHER!?"

Oh... oh no...

The owner of the voice can barely fit through the door: stomping in on the skeletal legs of a bear and sporting a set of sharp matching claws sits a long, snakelike sequence of vertebrae culminating in the skull of a bird you never wanted to see again....

A turkey.

GOB!

>CONTD.
>>
File: Cinnamon-Sugar-Spice.jpg (85 KB, 1200x1800)
85 KB
85 KB JPG
>>5246097
"An' just who the hell be askin?" Roars a shirtless skeleton who probably looked rather impressive back when he had muscles and skin. Stomping over to the newcomer, the pirate jabs an accusatory finger into his chest, causing the whole restaurant to fall silent! “Ye be actin’ mighty tough for an’ overgrown game hen! Why-”

He never gets a chance to finish. Delivering a jaw-crushing uppercut to the belligerent buccaneer, the newcomer sends his critic’s skull sailing upwards like a golf ball before it smashes into powder on impact with the roof! Snarling at the rest of the restaurant patrons, the turkey gnashes his beak a few times as two more freakish animal-gamations take position at his sides!

“This GAME HEN,” He gobbles, sending a look that could kill across the room, “is THE PACK CHIEF: TORY THE TERRIBLE! GOB!”

“Holy SHIT!” Hisses Mitzi as she takes another steadying sip from her tankard, “Didn’t you kill his bro, Sta-”

Before she can finish asking the obvious, Mitz is cut off by Tory’s snakelike head slithering to a halt between the two of you! Scrunching his beak in displeasure, he takes a moment to search your face as another menacing gobble escapes his nonexistent lips!

GOB! You… you GOB something to say, Admiral Alkie?! Hmm….” He sniffs. “... you smell anything off about this one, boys?”

“Jus’ CINNAMON, boss!” Barks a goon with an alligator skull!

“An’ SUGAR!” Hisses the other resembling a jungle cat!

“Hrm…” Spits Tory as he eyes you warily, “Yea… but there’s something else there… something familiar…

Feeling the whole restaurant’s eyes burning into you, your heart plummets deep into your bowels when you notice another familiar beast clinging to the ceiling above you! Watching the situation unfold with mild interest, Lil’ Stanley uses your newfound fame to inch closer towards where the ceiling meets the kitchen’s door frame! Backstabbing fuzzball!

HEY!” Tory clucks, bringing you back into the moment, “What the PLUCK’S your deal, anyways? You SHMUCKaneers raid a CEREAL FACTORY or something?! GOB!

All eye sockets are on you–you’ve gotta do something, but what?!

>OFFER CONDOLENCES FOR HIS BROTHER!
>TELL HIM HIS BROTHER WAS A LITTLE BITCH!
>GLASS HIM!
>DISTRACT THEM WITH LIL’ STANLEY! LOOK! A WILD ANIMAL!
>LET MITZI TAKE THE LEAD!
>PLAY CHICKEN WITH THIS TURKEY–HE THINKS HE’S TOUGH, HUH?
>OFFER HIM A DRINK! YOU’RE NOT BUYING, APPARENTLY!
>ASK HIM ABOUT THE PLAN!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5246099
>ASK HIM ABOUT THE PLAN!
Stan can deflect pretty well when she doesn't want to talk about something.
>>
>>5245109
>ASK HIM ABOUT THE PLAN!
>>
>>5246099
>>ASK HIM ABOUT THE PLAN!
>>
>>5246202
>>5246214
>>5246233
>STAN WANTS DA' PLAN!

Writing!
>>
File: gpsgizmo.jpg (47 KB, 1000x1000)
47 KB
47 KB JPG
You can almost hear the gears in your head nearly fly off their axles as the whole restaurant awaits your rebuttal! Damn that Ly and Mitzi, you think, why didn’t you bring someone who could speak up for you like Syb? Or TALBOT? At least it’d be funny to watch him get clobbered!

“Are you DUMB AND DUMB?! Y’know… the ‘CAN’T SPEAK’ kind!?” Squawks the Bearky as he pokes your forehead with a surprisingly-sharp claw, “What’s your problem, huh!? GOB!

Your problem, you retort as a flame slowly grows in your chest, is HIM–he barged on in here like he owns the place, claimed to have some kind of douchey ‘plan’, and now he’s ruining everyone’s buzz! Downing the remainder of your mug in one hearty swig, you slam the tankard back onto the bar with a triumphant ‘THUNK’ and match Tory’s glare with one of your own–so hurry up and spill the damn beans already so everyone can get back to drinkin’!

“Arrrr…” mutters Two-Patch as a dull murmur begins to spread throughout the restaurant, “He be mighty articulate fer’ a pirate…”

“Aye…” Nods Nor’easter, “T’is a welcome respite from the usual dialogue’!”

Just when it looks like your head’s about to get the same treatment as the last guy who bothered him, Tory’s beak curls into a wicked smirk. Somehow.

“Well well! You’ve got giblets, don’t ya’? GOB!” Chuckling away your sass, the turkey terror exchanges a nod with his associates. “Right, then–let’s get straight to the main course! DARWIN?”

The croc skull skeleton steps forward before retrieving a GIZMO from… somewhere in his bones. Snatching it from his associate’s claw, Tory shows the device off to the rest of the bar with a grim look on his bony face!

“This, my crusty corsairs, is the key– the key to serving up that cretinous custodian on a silver platter! GOB!” Pressing a red button, Tory laughs maliciously as a series of lines appears on the doodad revealing a small, but easy to read screen!

“SQUAAAWK! What manner of trinket be this!?” Asks your parrot pal as he flits between you and Darwin’s heads!

“It looks li-err, it be a MAP!” Mitzi replies in a fake accent and real surprise!

“Correct!” Tory nods with a satisfied click of his beak! “And not just any map, my loose-bodiced beau–this device will lead me, my pack, and anyone else who’s got the wattle to follow us STRAIGHT to that fratricidal freak’s lair–HER VAN!

The declaration hits you like a truck, or a VAN, in this case! Snatching Mitz’ mug out of her hand, you take a quick swing and perform the customary spit take–th-th-THE VAN!?

“Dat’s what he said, yea.” Ly confirms. Gee, thanks.

>CONTD.
>>
File: screamingskull.jpg (76 KB, 630x1280)
76 KB
76 KB JPG
>>5246363
“A question if I may, me lad!” Asks a long-bearded pirate in a sing-song voice from across the restaurant, “How’d ye manage ta’ come across such pretty plunder?”

“Well I can’t TURK all the credit! GOB! Truth is, a little bird told me about it! Thelonius?”

Gesturing to his feline friend, Tory steps aside as the cat-skull skeleton retrieves a skull from between his bones–this one still crusty with blood and similar viscera! Holding the head out for everyone to see, Thelonius grits his canines as the skull lets out a blood curdling shriek that shakes the whole boat!

“He uh… that’s all he really does anymore.” Explains the cat as Tory bobs his head wickedly!

“Yes… that and tell us EXACTLY where Stanley’s wheels are! GOB! You see, Winston here used to be one of those soldiers for that detestable DOG BONE COMPANY, but he opened up once we opened HIM up! GOB!

“Sonnova-” Mitz hisses under her breath. Shoving her beer in front of her mouth, you give Tory a forced smile as your companion bubbles with anger behind the froth! So what, you begin, trying to hide your unease, it’s a tracker?

“Correct! Winston hid it in a small compartment inside the van when it was still his! GOB! But when we heard it was taken by that janitor, it was like a wishbone come true!” Snapping his claw, Tory waits until Thelonius puts the skull away before continuing. “The plan, my ‘mateys’, is simple: we know Parble’s gunning for the LAST LIEUTENANT, but to do that she’ll need a BOAT!

Wait, you interject, how, uh… how do we know that again? Arrr. For the second time in your visit, all eye sockets fall on you.

“... Th… THE MASTER’S voice, of course!” Replies the bar wench with a look of concern on her bony face. “Ye certain ye should be drinkin’, love?”

As the rest of the crowd watches you with different degrees of concern and distrust, you take a wild leap of faith to throw them off the scent!

Just, uh… I was just being, er, ironic! H-ha ha! I knew that!

Pushing a few more forced laughs into the room, your smile falters a bit when the rest of the bar fails to join in on the laughter…

>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (145 KB, 1000x552)
145 KB
145 KB JPG
>>5246365
Whoops, nope, there it goes! The whole ship explodes with amusement–some patrons falling out of their chairs laughing!

“Man,” Ly remarks as you send a nervous smile around the room, “These mooks must be sloshed!

“A-anyways,” Tory continues as he slowly recovers, “A… anyways… Hoo… Oh jeez… We’ll park a NICE BOAT near where Stanley parks…”

Yes?

“Then we’ll wait for her to find it!”

YES?

“And once she climbs in…”

YES??

“We’ll GRAB her! In a NET! GOB!
https://youtu.be/kUDlHHJB8yI
Raising the net in question high above his serpentine head amidst a roar of cheers, Tory only has a second to bathe in the glory before you ruin it right on schedule:

Yea RIGHT, you scoff, Yo-er, STAN would never fall for a trick like that! You heard she was really smart! And uh… and pretty!

“Yea!” Mitzi nods, earning a stare from you. “... just playing along, boss.” Oh, gotcha!

“Even if that WERE true,” Tory counters, “I’ve got the perfect bait!” Watching the turkey rummage around in his ribcage again, you brace yourself for whatever’s coming–did he capture a pal like that dickhead JED did? I mean, you’d be cool with it if he took Denise, but-

GOB! BEHOLD!” Dangling from the turkey’s claw is a CRISP SIX-PACK OF OLE’ LONESOME ALE!

“Seriously?” Asks Mitz as she takes an unimpressed sip from her tankard. Not gonna lie, you shrug, that would actually work!

“Oh?” Tory gobbles as his long neck stoops down to your eye level! “And just who, pray tell, made you the PARBLE PRO, hm?”

You’re about to answer with the classic ‘Your MOM’ response when an idea hatches in your devious little mind: well, you reply, puffing out your bony chest with pride, you just so happen to know quite a bit about ole’ Stan… being an UNDERCOVER SKELETON, and all!

Before anyone can react, you use your BONE SPEED to whip out your wallet and show it off to the crowd in a split second! Still reeling from your declaration, the whole boat goes quiet as you adopt a different posture and tone of voice!

Yep, you drawl, motioning for another beer, you’ve been trackin’ her since the beginning–quite the slippery, uh, Shiela, that one! Crikey!

SURE you have, GOB!” Replies Tory, somehow unconvinced. “Even if you WEREN’T full of stuffing, how do you plan on proving it, hmm?”

D’oh! You always forget about the ‘proof’ part! ALWAYS!

>CONTD.
>>
File: class-is-in-session.jpg (405 KB, 2400x1524)
405 KB
405 KB JPG
>>5246367
Er, easy, you smirk as you reach into your pocket once more! If you weren’t the Real McCoy, how on Earth would you have… THIS?! With the speed of a viper, you slap the proof of your undeniable skill into Tory’s outstretched claw!

“... is this… MERMAID SMU-

Whoops, wrong one! Snatching it back up, you replace the ELDRITCH SKIN RAG with your intended item!

“This…” Tory mutters in a stupefied tone, “This is…”

Yes, you nod, her WALLET!

“How…” Stammers the turkey as the crowd begins to chatter, “How did you get this? G-gob?”

It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure! You won’t bore him with the details, you shrug, just in time for the bar wench to place a fresh tankard next to you, but one thing’s for sure–there’s no one that knows that minx better than you!

“I-In that case…” Tory says with a weak smile, “W-would you mind thanksgiving me a few pointers? F-for my brother’s sake?”

It’d be a PLEASURE, you reply, giving your new student a toothy grin!

“G-great!” The turkey sputters excitedly! “I’ll take any intel if it helps me GET HER! GOB!”

Trust me, you purr, it will! Listen up!

How do you trick this bothersome bird anyways?
>SHE’S BEEN HIDING OUT NEAR THE EDGE OF THE BARRIER AROUND TOWN! IF YOU LEAVE NOW YOU CAN PROBABLY CATCH HER NEAR JOPLIN!
>DON’T LISTEN TO THE RUMORS–BONE MARROW IS SUPER-TOXIC TO HER! SPREAD THE WORD!
>YOU CAN TAKE HIM TO HER NOW IF HE CAN FIND YOU A BOAT!
>STAN HATES FREE BOOZE AND FOOD! HATES IT! SO IF YOU SEE HER, BE SURE TO KEEP IT ON HAND!
>HE REALLY OUGHTA BE GOING AFTER HER FRIEND! (WHO?) THEY’RE WEAKER THAN THEY LOOK!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
That's all for tonight, folks--should have more THURSDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST! Sorry for the wait and hope to see you again next time!
>>
>>5246369
>DON’T LISTEN TO THE RUMORS–BONE MARROW IS SUPER-TOXIC TO HER! SPREAD THE WORD!

I would pick the boat but he is doing that already
>>
>>5246369
>>DON’T LISTEN TO THE RUMORS–BONE MARROW IS SUPER-TOXIC TO HER! SPREAD THE WORD!
>>
>>5246369
>STAN IS A GOODIE-TWO-SHOES WHO CAN'T EVEN STRIKE FIRST. IF YOU COME CLOSE TO HER WITHOUT ATTACKING AND TELL HER ABOUT YOUR GRIEF, YOU WILL BREAK HER SPIRIT AND SEE HER CRY AND SQUIRM IN GUILT AND LIKELY EVEN CAUSE HER TO SUICIDE.
>>
>>5246596
supporting this and the bone marrow one
>>
>>5246442
>>5246454
>>5246596
>>5247221
>BONE MARROW IS TOXIC!
>STAN IS EMPATHETIC! GET CLOSE TO HER FIRST!

Good shit! Now for the kicker: ROLL ME 2d100+10 TO CONVINCE THIS DOPE! +5 FROM YOUR 'UNDERCOVER' THING, +5 FROM BUNNY SUIT! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
>>5247256
trust me im not a raccoon
>>
Rolled 96, 77 + 10 = 183 (2d100 + 10)

>>5247350
no dice
>>
Rolled 96, 70 = 166 (2d100)

>>5247256
>>
Rolled 45, 56 + 10 = 111 (2d100 + 10)

>>5247256
>>
>>5247352
>>5247355
>>5247394
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>MARROW: 106!!!!
>CLOSE AN' PERSONAL: 87!

What a maroon! Writing!
>>
File: bounty.png (80 KB, 183x275)
80 KB
80 KB PNG
For what it’s worth, you make an effort to hide your excitement–you really do! But seeing Tory look at you with a mixture of excitement, awe, and, dare you say it? RESPECT, you just can’t help yourself!

Lesson number one, beakbrain, you begin after sampling the contents of your fresh new tankard, you’ve GOTTA stop that stupid MARROW RUMOR going around!

“R-rumor?” Gobbles your student as a few other pirates lean in close to listen! Well, yea, you shrug, didn’t they hear!? That shit’s TOXIC to that foxy foe of yours!

“I beg your pardon?” Asks the croc-skull goon!

You’re pardoned, you snap! You figured it out yourself in one of your last tussles–sure, you’ve had to swap out, like, all of your bones from all the marrow you’ve been spewing, but it’s true: spray her with the stuff and she hates it!

“Yea!” Mitz adds, “Like a raccoon and a garden hose!”

You shoot her a glare. She just had to go with that comparison, huh? As your partner gives you a weak shrug, the cat-skull skeleton jabs a claw in her face!

“Hey… just who the hell are YOU, anyways? I thought, uh…” Thelonius pauses as his eye sockets linger on your face. “... Sorry, what was your name again, pal?”

DINGO, you reply, DINGO FLARE: BOUNTY HUNTER EXTRAORDINAIRE!

“Christ…” Mutters Ly from the safety of your body.

“Right, right…” Nods the jungle cat, “Anyways, DINGO FLARE here’s the expert, toots–not you!”

“Think again, mittens–I’m, uh… I’m Dingo’s GIRLFRIEND… DINGA FLARE…OWITZ. Yep.”

Avoiding your pointed glare by taking a long sip from her tankard, Mitz clearly passes the test when Tory and his goons fail to call her on it. “So this marrow thing–it’s true?” Tory asks with a hint of apprehension in his nails-on-chalkboard voice! “Because THE MASTER-

Oh my GOOOOOD, you groan, rolling your eye sockets skyward, do they listen to everything DUH MUHSTUHRR tells them?!

And just like that, the restaurant goes quiet again.

“Well, uh… yea.” Replies the turkey.
“Aye.”
“Mhm!”
“It really be the only way ta’ be decidin’ things, it be!”
“Ditto!”
“You betcha.”

Quiet, ‘DINGA!’ You weren’t asking her!

>CONTD.
>>
File: dealingwithtoxicmarrow.jpg (213 KB, 735x1102)
213 KB
213 KB JPG
>>5247529
Feeling the gazes pile onto you, you opt to take a risk! Dispelling your growing unease with a derisive ‘pssh’, you send a smug grin towards the turkey after taking another swig. Wow, you scoff, that’s uh… that’s pretty LAME. No wonder they haven’t killed Stan yet!

For a moment all you can hear is the soft, rhythmic sound of water lapping against the side of the boat. Hiding behind your tankard, it slowly becomes clear to you that you’ve committed sacrilege. W-

“... I mean…” Tory stammers, glancing nervously around the restaurant, “I uh… I don’t listen to him, y’know… ALL the time…”

“Y-yea!” Adds Darwin as his crocodile teeth form into a forced grin, “M-me neither!”

“Or me!” Shouts Two-Patch!
“NOR I!” Squawks the parrot!
“You guys are fucking stupid.” Mutters a mustachioed pirate from across the restaurant. “You really think you should be saying that about the b-”

The doubting Thomas and his speech are cut short by a musket ball to the skull! Slumping to the floor like a jacket falling off a chair, the skeleton’s argument is deftly thwarted thanks to the immortal power of PEER PRESSURE!

As you were saying, you continue, voice barely registering over the other buccaneers praising the shooter’s aim as he triumphantly stuffs his flintlock back into his coat, THE MASTER’S cool and all, but use your skulls: why do they think he’d feed them the wrong intel about Stan anyways?

“Because…” Thelonius grunts, looking your way for a hint.

BeCAUSE, you finish, he won’t get the credit if some OTHER dingbat kills that sexy thing, will he?

“Yea!” Mit-err, Dinga nods! “What sounds better: ‘That pesky human was defeated by ‘THE MASTER’, or ’That pesky human was defeated by ‘SOME TURKEY’?”

You and Dinga clink your tankards together as the rest of the boat processes your words.

“Aye…” Frowns Nor’easter, “T’would ‘ardly be a tale worth tellin’, would it?”
“It be a mite anticlimactic, true, but everyone loves an underdog story!” Argues Two-Patch!

So there they have it, you conclude in a solemn voice, you hate to say it, fellas, but you’ve been had!

GOB!” Tory snarls! “That is SO CLASSIC HIM!

That’s what you’ve been saying, you shrug! So whenever he feeds you that crap, just chuck it out! Take it from me: EXPERIENCE is the best teacher!

“I’ve gotta remember that one!” Whispers Darwin to Thelonius!

MARROW IS TOXIC…” Tory repeats, prompting the rest of the patrons to echo it as well! “Got any other juicy tips, Dingo?”

You’re just about to give him another one when you feel your nonexistent lips zip up!

“Stan…” Ly warns, “We got lucky, yea? Les’ quit while we’re ahead!”

Oh you’ll quit, alright–quit PUSSYFOOTIN’ AROUND!

>CONTD.
>>
File: puremaiden.png (72 KB, 300x265)
72 KB
72 KB PNG
>>5247532
Being your skeleton and all, Ly doesn’t really have a body for you to dramatically shove out of the way. Well, besides yours, that is. Settling on defiantly gnashing your teeth, you use your regained jaw control to spit another fact!

Unlike that chickenshit BORIS, you explain, Stanley has the heart and soul of a PURE MAIDEN–they all know what that means, right?

“... she’s uh… a virgin?” Asks Thelonius.

N-NO, you stammer, she’s, uh, she’s had a BUNCH of boyfriends! Like… ten! HUNDRED!

“... How do you even know tha-”

You CHECKED, alright?! Doesn’t matter–th-thatat wasn’t the point you were trying to make, alright?!

“Clearly.” Mitz mutters as she takes a long sip from her beer. Is she gonna finish that thing or what?

“What did you mean, then?” Asks Tory as you slowly feel the heat drain from your cheeks hidden by Syb’s glamour spell! W-well, you continue, still recovering from tripping over your tongue, what you MEANT to say was that she’s HONORABLE! She never throws the first punch, okay!?

“Arrr!” Exclaims Nor’easter with wide eye sockets, “Don’t be tellin’ tales, lad!”

You AREN’T, okay!? It works all the time–as long as you win her over with some lam-I mean, ENDEARING backstory, she’ll be totally moved!

“It’s all true!” Mitzi agrees! “She’s a total CRYBABY, really–can’t handle even the slightest bit of emotion!”

H-ha ha, s-sure, Dinga! Anywa-

“Hell, if you told her about all of that grief you have for your brother, Tor, she might just break down right then and there from the guilt!”

Okay, Dinga, that’s enough of tha-

“Shit, she might just KILL herself right there, too! She’s an emotional wreck! Like, there was this one time where she let this guy try out her BACKUUM instead of her pal-”

Your hand darts over and covers Mitzi’s mouth before she can finish! THANK YOU, DINGA!

“Hmmm… I DID hear she was unhinged…” Tory ponders, earning a few thoughtful ‘hmm’s from his pals.

AND pretty dumb…” Darwin adds with a nod.
“Don’t forget unlovable!” offers Thelonius! “I mean… I know we’re made of animal parts and all, but she’s like all the worst parts of a human and raccoon put togeth-”

WELL THEN, you interject, that just about does it for your tips! Darn!

GOB! Thanks for the help, Dingo!” Tory gobbles, clearly pleased with the intel you gave him! “That meatbag won’t know what hit her, that’s for sure!”

HEH!

"What's so funny, Dingo?"

N-nothing! H-heh HEH!

>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (589 KB, 680x845)
589 KB
589 KB PNG
>>5247533
“So what’s the plan now?” Mitzi asks as she polishes off the rest of her beer. FINALLY!

“Now,” Replies the bar wench as she hands a SET OF KEYS WITH A LIFE PRESERVER KEYCHAIN over to the turkey, “you lads take the fancy black vessel out back with our compliments!”

GOB! No rest for the wicked!” Tory replies as he stuffs the keys into his ribs! “Does it got a name?”

“Aye,” Nods the barmaid, “She be ‘The Dramatic Irony’. Couldn’t tell ye the meanin’, though.”

“SQUAWK! It refers to-”

“No matter!” Laughs the turkey as he shoves his parroty counterpart out of the way, “As long as it aids me in my REVENGE QUEST, it can be called whatever it wants!” Turning to you with a devious twinkle in his eye socket, Tory holds his claw out as if to help you out of your seat. “You’ve been a huge help, Dingo… I wonder–would you be willing to help me a bit more?”

You blink. Exsqueeze me?

“Dealing with Stanley will be easy, but her lackeys might… complicate things, especially when we’re setting the trap near the van. We both have the same GOB... will you join me and my comrades?”

“At least until we drop the boat off! Please?” pleads Darwin!

“I feel like we’ve all got really good chemistry here!” Thelonius adds!

“Arrr, I’ll join ye’ too!” Two-Patch adds, earning a trio of withering gazes from the animalgamations! “... a-actually, I’ve got a thing or two ta’ be doin’ here, and…”

“Whaddaya think, bo-err, HANDSOME?” Dinga/Mitz asks with a coquettish wink! “Wanna go for a ride?”

You respond with a blink. Is she coming on to you?

“She’s askin’ if ya’ wanna follow these mooks onto da’ boat, cupcake.”

Oh! Y-yea, that was your second guess! Anyways, you continue, let’s think about it!

>YES! LET’S SET THE TRAP RIGHT NOW!
>YEA, BUT YOU STILL WANNA HANG AROUND A LITTLE LONGER!
>NAH, BUT HE’D BETTER REMEMBER WHAT YOU TOLD HIM!
>WHAT IF YOU TOOK THE BOAT SOMEWHERE ELSE?
>BEFORE YOU GO, YOU WANNA ASK A FEW QUESTIONS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
That's it for tonight, folks--should have more time FRIDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST! Thanks as usual for playing and hope to see you next time!
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5247535

Rolling

>1
>YES! LET’S SET THE TRAP RIGHT NOW!
We can push them into the water while they're least suspecting it/turned around. We might be cutting it close with our disguises, but, if we play our cards right, we can steal the boat and possibly defeat them in one swoop. We could also possibly get Talbot to catch up with the boat and help with the clobbering.

>2
>>NAH, BUT HE’D BETTER REMEMBER WHAT YOU TOLD HIM!
Here, we can stalk Tory and his gang from behind, get the jump on them, and steal the boat.
>>
>>5247535
>YES! LET’S SET THE TRAP RIGHT NOW!
Can we have Ly go inform Syb and Talbot to meet us for an ambush? She can see Ly in his projection form, right?
>>
>>5247618
You betcha you can!
>>
>>5247535
>>5247618
Support! Adding this to my vote.
>>
>>5247535
>>5247618 +1
>>
>>5247535
>YES! LET’S SET THE TRAP RIGHT NOW!
The trap for Stan, of course, not for anyone else. Nope.
>>
>>5247618
>>5247647
>>5247667
>>5247706
>SET THE TRAP!

Writing!
>>
File: unnamed.jpg (44 KB, 497x512)
44 KB
44 KB JPG
You probably ponder for a second before making a decision, not that that's unusual for you. YES, you answer as a grim, toothy smile wraps around your face, it'd be a pleasure! Heh heh HEH!

"GOB! That's the spirit!" Exclaims your new partner as he slaps your back with one of his massive bear claws! "You can stop steepling those fingers of yours now!"

Whoops--got a little carried away! Exchanging a knowing glance with 'Dinga', you innocently ask the leader of the pack when you're shipping out!

"Well," He ponders as your fellow bar patrons slowly return to their previously scheduled revelry, "The tracker says that Stan's already nearby... but you know how a cornered animal can get, GOB..."

"She's a tricky one!" Adds Darwin in a wary tone. "She gave me and Thel the slip back at the FACTORY--still not sure how she got outta that cell!"

"Those meatbags do generate a lot of moisture..." Thelonius suggests. "I still think she slid right through a seam in the wall!"

"GOB! Point is, we need to be careful!" Concludes the leader! "We'll have to gather some SUPPLIES first, maybe put together a backup plan-"

Oh NO--this is gonna take FOREVER! Making your displeasure known with a drawn-out groan, you down the remaining contents of your tankard and slam the cup on the bar! This right here? This is the tomfoolery that's gonna get them all killed!

"GOB!? What do you mean, Dingo?"

What does he mean, 'what do you mean'? That sexy beast is already in the neighborhood--you've gotta strike now while the lion's hot!

"Botched idiom aside, I agree with, uh, shnookums." Adds Mitz as she gives your arm a gentle squeeze. "That freak works fast--we need to work FASTER!"

The turkey weighs your words for a moment before nodding in approval. "GOB... you're the experts, after all. VERY WELL, THEN!" Leaping onto a nearby table (and thoroughly horrifying its occupants in the process), Tory addresses the restaurant with a sweeping gesture! "Get some side dishes ready, everyone, because this turkey's about to bring in the main course!"

"AYE!" Roars Nor'easter along with the other patrons, "Don't be returnin' without her ugly head!"

"We be mountin' it over the gangplank!" Jokes Two-Patch, earning a round of laughter from the other buccaneers!

"Outside?! D'ye intend ta' be scarin' away all me customers!?" Counters the Bar Wench! Hey, that's kinda mean-

Before you can object, you and Mitz are triumphantly paraded out of the restaurant by a horde of drunken, cheering sailors!

"Is it bad that I feel kinda bad?" Mitzi asks as the crowd sets youdown in front of the gangplank and gradually stumbles back into the boat.

Yes, you snarl, so quit it!

>CONTD.
>>
File: raccaughtinact.jpg (42 KB, 1000x667)
42 KB
42 KB JPG
>>5248440
"GOB! Shall we?" Tory and the others waste no time in following you outside. Retrieving the SET OF KEYS from his ribcage, the turkey looks around the docks for the corresponding vessel. "Anyone see it?"

"Hey, LOOK!" Exclaims Thelonius before dramatically jabbing a claw to the right of the gangplank! Following his lead, you and the others lock your glowing eyes with another familiar set--one belonging to a TRASH PANDA frozen in shock with a fat leg of ham hanging from her chops!

"It's an ANIMAL! Like US!" Confirms Darwin with a look of awe and excitement on his long face! "And it's still alive! Let's KILL it!"

In a surprising display of agility for someone of her weight class, Lil' Stanley darts behind a stack of crates just as your ex-jailers each whip out a TOMMY GUN from their ribs and start spraying the dock! Lumbering after your pet on their thick bear skeleton legs, the two are swiftly called back by a sharp 'GOB' from the big cheese!

"Focus on the big PECKture, you fuzzbrains, and save some ammo for the main course!"

"But..." Mutters Darwin in an embarrassed tone, "But I really wanted to kill it..."

"We'll have plenty of time AFTER we KILL STAN!" Snarls the turkey! "Now help me find this GOB-damned boat!"

Splitting up a bit, you reconvene with Mitz behind a stack of crates and immediately start giggling like schoolgirls! Th-they're so dead!

"I know!" Mitzi giggles as she gives you a playful nudge in the ribs! Ow! "We should probably let the others know, though, right?"

Right, you nod, barely recovering from your giggle fit! Snapping your fingers to get Ly off his lazy ass, you give his ASTRAL PROJECTION a cheeky grin as it emerges from your body. He knows what he's gotta do, right?

"Pretty sure T and Syb already know, but what da' hey?" Leaving you both with a lazy salute, your skeleton dips into the dock and disappears from sight just as Darwin rounds the corner! "Hey," he grunts, jerking his skull backwards, "We found it. Quit hiding behind crates and giggling."

"Sorry, hun!" Replies Mitz as she wraps herself around your arm! "You know how it gets when you're crazy about a man~"

"Yes..." Darwin sighs, wistfully gazing in Thelonius' direction, "Yes I do..." Quickly snapping out of it, the gator-head motions for you to follow. "A-anyways, time's a-wastin'. Don't want that freak to escape, now, do we?"

No, you giggle, you certainly wouldn't! HEH HEH!

"... You really enjoy laughing, don't you?"

Yep, you answer with a dismissive nod, now let's get going already!

>CONTD.
>>
File: thedramaticirony.png (636 KB, 716x474)
636 KB
636 KB PNG
>>5248442
Once you notice your ship, you can't help but wonder how you missed it before--clad in a fresh coat of black and white paint, The Dramatic Irony sticks out like a particularly flashy sore thumb amidst the other dinghies, speedboats, and sailboats moored along the dock! Sleek and flashy, you venture to call it a yacht, though you're not exactly a SHIP BITCH, so...

"All aboard! GOB!" Leading the charge, Tory immediately heads for the wheel tucked away in a small, closed-off cockpit just under a small seating area. Following along, you take note of the staircase leading deeper into the boat's innards and what appears to be some kind of bedroom/living room combo!

"Aye aye!" Laughs Thelonius as he and Darwin make quick work of the mooring lines with their sharp claws! "We're away, boss!"

"And away we go..." Whispers Mitz as she quietly enters the cockpit behind Tory.

"GOB! We'll park it a bit further past the van signal, then!" Announces the turkey as he quietly adjusts the throttle. As the ship lurches forward, you spot two sets of eyes looking back at you from below deck--one of which glows with an eerie blue aura!

"All set." Reports Ly as his ASTRAL FORM emerges from the water before merging into your body. "Told 'em da' name and they spotted it lickety-split." The skeleton pauses. "These guys ain't da' sharpest knives in da' drawer, are they?"

No, you whisper as you give the eyes a wink, but don't let that fool ya--stupid things can still be real dangerous, you know!

"I can hardly imagine..." Ly replies in a sardonic voice. "I told those two ta' wait for yer' signal--they'll act on their own unless you tell 'em otherwise."

Groovy, you nod, then the trap is basically set!

"Yep!"

The sudden voice behind you nearly makes you hop out of your disguise! Whirling around, you lock eye sockets with a now-familiar crocodile!

"Say, did you see something down there?"

You shrug--nope! Seems clear!

"Hrmm..." He growls, taking a few sniffs of the air, "You're the expert, I guess. Just holler if you notice anything!"

Drawing his TOMMY GUN, Darwin gives his feline friend a nod as the two take separate positions around the vessel--Darwin watching the shore via the top-floor seating area, Thelonius watching from the bow.

“Well…” Ly hisses as the boat lazily floats along the dock, “Here we are…”

Damn right! The question is, how do you take this darn boat?

QUESTION #1:
>GO LOUD!
>GO STEALTHY!

QUESTION #2:
>TAKE CARE OF TORY FIRST! THE OTHERS CAN HANDLE HIS GOONS!
>CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT AND SO WILL YOU–TAKE DOWN THELONIUS AT THE FRONT OF THE BOAT!
>NEVER SMILE AT A CROCODILE! ELIMINATE DARWIN FROM HIS UPPER-DECK PERCH!
>CHAT UP TORY–MAYBE YOU CAN CONVINCE HIM TO TAKE YOU ALL INTO DEEPER WATER?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5248444
>>GO STEALTHY!
>NEVER SMILE AT A CROCODILE! ELIMINATE DARWIN FROM HIS UPPER-DECK PERCH!

We'll save the best course for last...
>>
>>5248668
+1
>>
>>5248668
>>5248672
>STALK A CROC!

ROLL ME 1d100+10 (+5 from sneakiness, +5 from Bunny Suit) TO CRACK A CROC! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

BONEUSES AWARDED TO CREATIVE WRITE-INS ON HOW YOU DO THE DEED!
>>
Rolled 100 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5248725

Let's baccuum his head off and smash it into something!
>>
File: 6hju56y7t.jpg (78 KB, 770x800)
78 KB
78 KB JPG
>>5248730
AAAAAAWWWWW SHIIIITTTTTTT
>>
>>5248730
Hot DOG! Alright, next decision:
CHOOSE A BACKUUM TARGET:
>TORY
>THELONIUS
>SOMETHING (OR SOMEONE) ELSE

No need to roll!
>>
>>5248734
>>THELONIUS
>>
>>5248730
OHSHIT
>>5248734
>THELONIUS
>>
Also hate to cut it off now, but I'm probably gonna write the next update SATURDAY AROUND 1-2PM PST-- been feeling off ever since I got home today and certainly not NAT-100-worthy in my writing chops at the moment.

Anywho, if there's any specific NEAT TRICK you wanna try out on poor Darwin and Thelonius with the BACKUUM, feel free to write it in--otherwise I'll whip something up tomorrow. Catch ya' then!
>>
>>5248752
Suck up Darwin's head and use it like a crocodile skull shaped missile aimed at the center of Thelonius' mass so that even if it doesn't scatter his bones it has a good chance to knock him overboard
>>
>>5248735
>>5248741
>>5248818
>BACKUUM BLITZ!
Writing!
>>
File: best-friend-tattoos.jpg (76 KB, 1080x1349)
76 KB
76 KB JPG
No time to waste–if you keep this charade up any longer these guys might actually get CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!

“An’ we don’t want ‘DAT!” Exclaims your skeleton as you make your way up the stairs towards Darwin’s perch. No, you mutter, no you don’t…

“So I was thinking,” Darwin begins as you steathily remove your BACKUUM from your pockets (which is difficult enough without not being able to SEE said pockets), “What do you guys think about getting, like, matching tattoos or something after this?”

“What, like CARVINGS?” Thelonius asks from the deck below! “I LOVE it!”

“GOB! It’ll serve as a fond reminder of our victory over that brother-killing blockhead!” Tory adds as you finish slipping the device’s loops onto your arms. “We need a design, though, don’t we?”

“Yea…” Mutters the cat-headed hooligan as you creep up behind him! “Any ideas?”

“I know!” Shouts Darwin in a triumphant tone, “Let’s all take a few minutes to think about the design, then share!”

“Always the Brains of the outfit, aren’t you? GOB!” Tory chides playfully! “Okay, but remember–we’re looking for a good place to plant this boat!”

Levelling the BACKUUM’S nozzle with Darwin’s skull, a sudden dip in the waves forces your hand… and the device’s POWER SWITCH!

“AAAAAUUGH!” Roars Tory as the croc’s skull is firmly sucked into the BACKUUM mouth-first, “I CAN’T DECIIIIIIDE!”

“QUIT SHOUTING!” Thelonius fires back, not hearing his headless companion stumble blindly around the top floor looking for someone to strangle, “I CAN’T HEAR ANYTHING IF WE YELL!”

“I CAN’T HELP IT, GOB!” Tory continues as you watch Darwin’s mix-and-match body topple head-err, NECK first into the drink! “I’M JUST… I’M SO MAD ABOUT STAN!” It takes a moment of gritted teeth before you realize no one noticed. Neat!

“NNH! NNGH!”

“Jeez, cupcake–he’s actually BITIN’ da’ wheel…” Remarks your skeleton as he goes to take a look.

You have that effect on people, yea…

>CONTD.
>>
File: manoverboard.png (12 KB, 194x259)
12 KB
12 KB PNG
>>5249503
“But… but since we’re sharing…” Sighs a slightly-calmer Tory as you peek over the guardrail at Thelonious, “I uh… I just wanted to say that… and I really hope this doesn’t make you feel awkward, Dingo,”

Not at all, you reply, lining up your nozzle with the cat’s malformed body. Just a little to the left….

“Dat’s yer’ right, cupcake.”

Whoops.

“I uh… I just wanted to say that… well… I love you guys.”

Flicking the power switch back on, you send Darwin’s screaming skull flying like a marsh-dwelling missile towards Thelonious’ stunned form!

“I know, I KNOW!” Tory interrupts, clearly taking Darwin’s terrified howl as something else entirely, “You guys don’t have to feel the same way, but… but after all of those adventures we’ve had since King died, like the New Pack Leader Arc, that training we did up in the woods, the beach episode-gee, I still miss Harriet…”

Like the last one, your shot goes wild–rather than hitting Thelonious in the chest, you send Darwin’s naturally projectile-shaped skull drilling directly into his counterpart’s, reducing both of their craniums to dust in the process!
https://youtu.be/9FHw2aItRlw

“Fine, you BABIES,” Tory snaps, not noticing Thelonious tumbling over the side of the boat either, “That’s the last time I share anything with YOU TWO, that’s for sure! GOB!”

If only he knew how right he was… Filling the silence by humming a jaunty tune, Tory’s none the wiser as you descend the stairs to give your pals an air high-five!

“I’m STILL gonna think about that TATTOO, though!” Tory adds as you contemplate how to end this. “And don’t think you’re off the hook either, Dingo and Dinga!”

He hasn’t got a clue, has he? How do you finish things here?
>SHAKE THE GLAMOUR OFF AND MAKE AN ENTRANCE!
>IF IT AIN’T BROKE, DON’T FLICK IT! BACKUUM THIS TURKEY!
>CARVE HIM UP WITH YOUR PALS, BUT LEAVE THE SKULL!
>LET HIM BAKE FOR A BIT… LET TORY DISCOVER YOU!
>LET ONE OF YOUR PALS COOK THIS TURKEY! (WHO?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5249505
>>SHAKE THE GLAMOUR OFF AND MAKE AN ENTRANCE!
>>
>>5249505
>LET ONE OF YOUR PALS COOK THIS TURKEY! (WHO?)
In an uncharacteristic move of friendship, perhaps motivated by Tory’s speech, we’ll let Mitzi do the honors.
>>
>>5249505
And I also think it would be appreciably insulting that he doesn’t even get taken out by us, but by one of our ‘mooks.’
>>
>>5249505
If a little while goes by and there aren’t any other votes, just consider me switched to >>5249566 so we can roll things along.
>>
>>5249674

Aw rats. But I wanted to switch to your vote-- I just chose the first since I couldn't think of who to write-in the kill.
>>
>>5249665
>>5249669
>>5249505

Switching vote. Change to what F+ABACBT suggested.
>>
>>5249665
supporting this
>>
>>5249665
>>5249680
>>5249681
>JUST BE A TOTAL UNREPENTANT BITCH TO TORY I GUESS WOW ALRIGHT

Writing!
>>
File: give.jpg (226 KB, 640x400)
226 KB
226 KB JPG
Setting your BACKUUM to the ‘UNYIELDING VOID’ setting, you eagerly scamper over to the cockpit like a kid on Christmas Morning about to try out a new vacuum cleaner! Ah, nostalgia! Passing through the threshold with a tool banned in several countries, the pep in your step falters as you notice Mitz watching longingly from the corner of the room!

Well… you THINK it’s ‘longingly’. Could just be ‘hungry’, too–hard to tell in these SKELETON GLAMOURS.

Not noticing you, Tory continues to whistle while he works like a character out of an old ‘Mockey Muskrat’ talkie. Aiming the nozzle at his freakish, snakelike head, your finger shakily lingers over the trigger as a wave of alien emotions washes over your body!

Glancing at Mitz, you earn a look of vague concern as you struggle to regain control. She could also still just be hungry, too–again, SKELETON GLAMOURS.

An album’s-worth of mental snapshots flip through your head–each of them related to the team’s resident SNEAKY, ALOOF, AND SURPRISINGLY TONED TOMBOY… AND one of your good friends. Thinking it’s a flashback, you brace for Ly’s attack on your forehead, but it never comes!

What… What IS this?

“It’s called ‘generosity’, cupcake.” Explains your skeleton as you methodically place one foot in front of the other and tromp over to Mitz like a robot! “An’ don’t worry–it’s totally normal.”

It… it HURTS.

“... Yea, no clue where dat’s comin’ from. Prolly’ ANOTHER mental illness we’re gonna hafta’ spitshine out…” Ly mutters. Wordlessly handing off the BACKUUM to the RENT-A-COP, you gesture for her to cook the turkey as you creep back towards the entrance.

Leaving Mitz with a cornucopia of emotions to sort through, you take a position out of sight and listen for the fireworks.

“Not gonna lie, cupcake:” Ly muses as you rock with the boat, “Dat’s uh… dat’s a mighty nice thing ta’ do for ole’ Mitz.”

Yea, you shrug, you figure she earned it.

“... An’ dat’s it, huh?” Your skeleton adds.

… okay, MAYBE you also find the idea of Tory getting killed by someone else entirely kinda funny. But that’s it!

“... okay, yea–dat’ IS pretty funny.”

Right?

>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (69 KB, 300x400)
69 KB
69 KB GIF
>>5249838
Your name is BORIS PONDEROSA: a stand-up guy and, as you’re already PAINFULLY aware, the HERO of this tale!

Just kidding. Welcome back, guys! You’re MITZI MULDOON: team sweetheart and the girl carrying industrial-strength DEATH in her hands! Good of you to show up when ya did–you JUST finished contemplating all of those deep, dark secrets and thoughts you have–now it’s time for business and nothing but!

“I think I’ve got my tattoo figured out, GOBS!”

Case in point. You’re not sure what possessed her to do it (you’re guessing it was Ly), but if you’re interpreting correctly, Stan just asked you to put this turkey on ice–not sure why she went this route, but you’ve gotta admit the idea of some random gal putting this guy out to pasture IS pretty funny!

“Hear me out: it looks like a HAND TURKEY, right? But on each of the feathers are our faces!”

The question is… how? She shoved the BACKUUM into your hands and you DEFINITELY wouldn’t mind taking it out for a spin–if those MeTUBE vids are any indicator, this might be REALLY fun.

Still, doesn’t this guy deserve a little more warning? Seems kinda anti-climactic to you, not that you mind, of course. Out of everyone on the boat right now, you’re the only one without some kind of power.

Well, except for… THAT.

“Maybe we could all be riding a motorcycle, too? Could I get some feedback here?”

Just kidding~! Or are you? Anyways, the spotlight’s on you, Mitz–Bake? Fry? How are we cooking this creep?

>BACKUUM HIM AND SEE HOW FAR YOU CAN LAUNCH HIM! YOU WANNA TAKE THIS FOR A SPIN!
>LET’S BE PROFESSIONAL HERE–BATON TO THE HEAD. SIMPLE AND EFFECTIVE!
>GET HIS ATTENTION FIRST, THEN BLAST HIM WITH SOMETHING. LET THE SITUATION REALLY SINK IN–STAN LOVES THAT MEAN CRAP!
>YOU STILL HAVE THAT SCIENCE GUN YOU GRABBED FROM THE NERD–HOW DOES ATOMIZED TURKEY SOUND?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5249505
>GET HIS ATTENTION FIRST, THEN BLAST HIM WITH SOMETHING. LET THE SITUATION REALLY SINK IN–STAN LOVES THAT MEAN CRAP!
>>
Got plans in a little bit so unfortunately gonna have to call it here for tonight--should have more SUNDAY AROUND 1-2PM PST--maybe earlier! Not on my usual rig right now, either, so it's probably for the best. Seeya next time!
>>
>>5249848
>>GET HIS ATTENTION FIRST, THEN BLAST HIM WITH SOMETHING. LET THE SITUATION REALLY SINK IN–STAN LOVES THAT MEAN CRAP!
>>
>>5249848
>GET HIS ATTENTION FIRST, THEN BLAST HIM WITH SOMETHING. LET THE SITUATION REALLY SINK IN–STAN LOVES THAT MEAN CRAP!
>>
>>5249857
>>5249903
>>5249913
>GET HIS ATTENTION!

Had a few too many drinks to write a fresh update, but here's what I CAN do before tomorrow:

ROLL ME 1d100+10 (DUE TO SNEAKINESS) to see how well this trick goes! I'll take the best of 3 rolls! Feel free to write in any specific actions that Mitz should take!

Actual written update will happen SUNDAY around the aforementioned time.
>>
>>5250221
>>
Rolled 67 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5250221
>>
Rolled 95 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5250221
>>
Rolled 62 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5250221
Not gonna beat a 105 but here is the third roll nonetheless
>>
>>5250226
>>5250230
>>5250321
>HIGHEST ROLL: 105!

Don't mess with Mitz, apparently. Writing!
>>
File: hit.jpg (45 KB, 602x361)
45 KB
45 KB JPG
Flicking the power switch, you let out an unamused sigh as your tool swiftly sucks up the turkey’s head with an anticlimactic ‘SHOONK’! Politely stepping around Tory’s body as its claws flail trying to grab you, you give Stan a wink as you leave the cockpit and trot over to where Thelonious had been standing a few minutes before!

Being a dock, the area is ripe with targets–all of them moving thanks to the boat. Right, you think, someone really oughta take the wheel before you bump into something!

Shipping Container? Nope. Crane? Hmmm…. Maybe. You’re almost won over by a large stack of crates when you find your challenge: since no one properly described the port, you can just barely see the broadside of the FLOATING RESTAURANT just on the over side of the docks!

Well… you do have a cannon, kinda…

Taking aim at where the water meets the side of the ship, you take one more steadying breath before sending Tory to Davey Jones’ Locker with the push of a button!

SHOOP!

Your name is STANLEY PARBLE and all that jazz, and you just watched Mitz no-sell Tory into a RESTAURANT that’s GOTTA be at least five feet away! Ten, at least!

“We really gotta go over Math again after all dis’, don’t we?” Ly remarks as you watch the establishment take on water! Sure, you mutter, still utterly spellbound watching SKELETONS leap off the ship like rats, whatever he says!

“Damn fine shot, though.”

Fuckin’ A.

“Fun toy, boss.” Mitzi remarks as she turns to give you one of those half-smiles she always does. “Guess it’s a good thing you saved the best for last, huh?”

She can say that again, you remark! That shot was one in a million!

“And lemme guess: ‘so am I’, right?” Mitz replies with a wink! “You’re such a tease, Stan...”

“Holy SHIT!

Oh right, Talbot and Syb are here. As the former lumbers over with shock and awe still plastered on his stupid face, the latter blinks into existence next to you in a flash of light!

“Alright, catch me up here–did Mitz just ice that TERRY guy’s brother??

“You betcha!” The Rent-A-Cop chirps! “Guess he wasn’t the stronger one, was he, Stan?”

I mean… he never really claimed to be, did he? Hm.

“I shudder to think what you’re capable of when taking things seriously, Mitzi.”

“Me too.” Mitzi retorts as she hands the BACKUUM back over to you. “Not that I mind the attention, but who’s steering this thing anyways?”

MEMEMemeME!
MEmemEMEME!

As both you and Talbot register what’s happening, you lock eyes for a split second before scampering off towards the cockpit like a pair of dogs at feeding time!

>CONTD.
>>
File: smugbitch.jpg (30 KB, 480x360)
30 KB
30 KB JPG
>>5250971
Employing every shove and dirty trick you have short of chucking each other overboard, you and your ex-bodyguard skid into the cockpit just in time to find it occupied!

Oh… oh no…

“Heyyyy, look who’s still kickin’!” Operating the wheel and the throttle with all four of her claws, LIL’ STANLEY greets Talbot with a welcoming purr as she takes a bite out of the PIECE OF HAM wedged next to her on the control panel! What, she couldn’t get some for the rest of the team?

“D’aww, she’s just a widdle hungwy, aint’cha, cutie?” Talbot continues, going so far as to scratch the critter behind the ears! “Did you know that raccoons are smart enough to drive space shuttles? It’s true!”

Yea, well, you could do that too, y'know, if you felt like it! You can't help but frown as you watch your fuzzy counterpart steal your fun… and your attention! The only thing she’s driving is you... you MAD, that is!

“Don’t listen to her, fuzzy-wuzzy–she’s just jeawwus...” Says Talbot as he scratches the raccoon under her chin! Rolling your eyes at the smug look on your pet’s face, you stomp out of the cockpit and slam the door shut behind you! ‘Jeawwus’, he says!

“Who won?” Asks Mitz as Syb works on removing her skeleton disguise. “Not you, I’m guessing.”

Friggin’ LIL’ STANLEY did, you groan, jabbing a thumb towards the helm! Peering in through the glass, both Syb and Mitz give each other an impressed nod.

“She’s very coordinated for such a small animal.”
“Drives better than my sister ever did.”

>CONTD.
>>
>>5250975
Can we stop talking about the damn TRASH PANTHER for a sec?! They’re wasting all of your daylight!

Both Syb and Mitz stare pointedly at the crisp midday sun for a brief moment. Okay, you groan, they get the point though, right? We’ve got the boat–now what?!

“You’ll be happy to know that while you and Mitzi were, erm, transferring ownership of this vessel, Talbot and I made a pleasant discovery below deck!”

“Weren’t you and Art an item?” Mitz asks in a confused tone. “He’s not gonna like this one bit, you know-”

“Very funny.” Sybil snaps. “We found AIR CYLINDERS, Stanley–at least three of them.”

Oh WOW, you reply, wiggling your fingers in mock surprise, so what, everyone’s just gonna suck on those all the way to ATLANTA?

“She’s talking about the things you use to SCUBA DIVE, Stan.” Mitzi interjects. “Hope you found some wetsuits too, moonglow–that sweater ain’t gonna keep you warm down in the water.”

“Well we haven’t had the chance to do a thorough search…” Sybil shrugs. “But now that the previous owners are gone, we have a little time to spare before reaching our destination.” The Goth sends a sideways glance towards the cockpit. “Does… does our Skipper know the way to PITCHFORK ROCK?

As if on cue, The Dramatic Irony changes course towards the foreboding collection of rocky spires looming on the horizon. Guess so!

“In that case,” Continues Syb, “It might not be a bad idea to see what we can scrounge up below deck.”

“On it.” Mitz volunteers, raising her hand as she heads for the stairs.

“In that case, I’ll keep watch for any… uninvited guests.” Heading towards Darwin’s old perch, your BFF turns to you as if remembering something. “Oh right: if possible, Stanley, please inform me if you hear anything from Art… and, erm, the others too! Yes!”

Blinking away before you can call her out, your pale pal leaves you to mull over your next move. Since you haven’t gotten seasick yet, you know what that means:

DECISION TIIIIME!
“Oh boy.” Mutters Ly.
What’s next on the agenda? Seems like you’ve got some time before reaching your landmark…

>CHECK IN WITH TALBOT AND… THE BEAST! DO THEY ACTUALLY KNOW WHERE WE’RE GOING?
>SEARCH FOR SUPPLIES WITH MITZ! YOU STILL NEED TO THANK HER FOR ALL HER HELP!
>HELP SYB ON LOOKOUT! SAY, MAYBE YOU COULD GET SOME FISHING IN, TOO!
>TRY TO CALL UNIVERSITY AND MUSEUM TEAMS–MAYBE THEY’VE FOUND SOMETHING?
>JUST CHILL FOR A BIT–HOW OFTEN DO YOU GET TO RIDE A YACHT!?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5250976
>JUST CHILL FOR A BIT–HOW OFTEN DO YOU GET TO RIDE A YACHT!?
>>
>>5250976
>>TRY TO CALL UNIVERSITY AND MUSEUM TEAMS–MAYBE THEY’VE FOUND SOMETHING?
>>
>>5250985
>>5250976

Adding this to my vote. We can do this as well.
>>
>>5250985
>>5250992
>CHILL ON A BOAT!
>BUT ALSO CHECK IN WITH THOSE OTHER LAZY SHITS

Writing!
>>
File: radio3.png (3 KB, 256x240)
3 KB
3 KB PNG
Isn’t it obvious? Flopping onto a nearby deck chair, you adjust your sunglasses a bit as you start soaking up a few rays!

“... Not dat’ I ain’t enjoying dis,” Ly mutters under his breath, “but shouldn’t we oughta’... y’know, help wit’ somethin’?”

You ARE helping, dingus! Whenever you get into a scrap with a LIEUTENANT, who ends up carrying the whole team, hmm?

“Well last time Art an’ Ed did a pretty good job… so did yer’ grandad-”

STANLEY, that’s who! So if you wanna keep it up, you’re gonna have to rest up a bit! And, y’know, make sure you get, like, SUN VITAMINS, or whatever!

“Ah, gee, I guess dat’ settles it...” Replies your skeleton as you try to roll up your coveralls a little higher. You’d probably get a BITCHIN’ TAN if you just took ‘em off! Stupid TALBOT having to tag along all the time…

“Before we get too cozy,” Ly continues, “Why don’t we check in on da’ others?”

You blink. Is he stupid or something? Mitz just went below deck, Talbot’s playing with YOUR pet, and Syb’s-

“I meant da’ people who didn’t tag along.” Your bones retort with growing irritation in their voice. “Y’know, da’ ones we sent to da’ MUSEUM an’ UNIVERSITY?

Oh, uh… yea. You were talking about them too, actually! Whipping out your RADIO before Ly can get any more sass in, you flip to the channel you THINK Art and the MUSEUM crew were on and press the TRANSMIT button! Guess who’s catchin’ rays on a new boat, bitches-
https://youtu.be/tY_kfFnyoic
PARBLE! RESCUED HOSTAGES OR NOT, YOU’D BETTER NOT BE SLACKING OFF ON COMPANY TI-
Whoopswrongnumber. Flicking to another random channel, you take a few steadying breaths before trying again… man, whose idea was it to run off without assigning radio channels anyways?

“... ours, I think.” Ly responds, clearly not sure of himself. “I distinctly recall ya’ shoutin’ ‘SHOTGUN!’ before runnin’ for da’ van…”

D’oh! Taking another deep breath to calm down from your impromptu Blumenkrantz encounter, you press the TRANSMIT button down one more time and try again! Guess who’s catchin’ rays on a new boa-

Before you can finish, your ears are assaulted by a storm of gunfire and a long, low bellow reminiscent of rolling thunder! “NOT NOW, STAN!” Shouts Art in a near-breathless voice! Before you can respond, the channel goes dead and stays that way for a few uncomfortable minutes.

Huh.

>CONTD.
>>
File: schooloccultarts.jpg (464 KB, 2500x1823)
464 KB
464 KB JPG
>>5251356
Hooookaaaay, you sigh, third time’s the charm, right? Flipping to yet another random channel, you take a moment before pressing the button again. Err, ahoy?

S-S-Stan?

Aw damn it, you forgot Kiki took Denise with her! What a friggin’ disappointment!

Y-yea… I-I’m s-sorry… Sh-she’s erm, she’s driving and, well, st-studies have shown that a-any multitasking in a v-vehicle increases the risk of a-accidents an-

She’s running the risk of PISSING YOU OFF, you snarl! You just sat down to get a tan and now this happens…

Ooh… s-sounds fun..

It was until now! What’s their status, anyways?

W-we’re j-just about on campus…” Denise squeaks over the sound of squealing tires in the background. “N-not that I’m c-complaining, but K-Kiki drives VERY fa-

Forget about that, you interrupt! Is the path clear to CLEARWATER U?

Y-yes! Th-the survivors ap-appear to have been bu-busy… Th-they’ve g-got barricades an-

Yes, yes, you didn’t ask for a picture! Look, you continue, when they get there they need to track down the department of, like, occult shit, okay? And tell ‘em STANLEY PARBLE: SHOOTING STAR sent ya!

“... do… do I have to i-include the s-sh-shooting sta-

Yes. Yes you do.

.... okay…” Sighs the dweeb. “Wh-what exactly sh-should I inquire a-about?

Cripes, do you need to come up with choices for EVERYTHING around here!? You want to learn about ATLANTA! Figure it out!

A-Atlantis… Y-yes m’am!” Denise replies! Ugh, you just know she’s doing a dumb little salute, too… “A-anything else i-in part-ticular?

Is there?
>LICHES!
>WILD MAGIC!
>THE FAE!
>RACCOONS!
>MERMAIDS!
>DEMONS!
>HAUNTED MUSEUMS, APPARENTLY!
>NO! QUIT BUGGING ME!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5251381
>WILD MAGIC!
>>
>>5251381

>>WILD MAGIC!
>>
>>5251381
>WILD MAGIC!
>>
>>5251421
>>5251486
>>5251535
>WILD AND WACKY MAGIC!

Sorry, got distracted by surprise guests! Writing the last update of the night and will probably update again MONDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST!
>>
File: wildmagic101.png (470 KB, 850x425)
470 KB
470 KB PNG
In part-ticular’, huh? Rubbing your chin in thought, it slowly dawns on you that you never really asked that professor of the occult anything while you were up at the university. You blame all the drama Eddie and Tucker caused.

… the giant mutated sea critter colosseum fight might have distracted you too.

S-Stan?” Denise whines, soundly yanking you back into reality. “D-did I say s-something wrong again? Oh sh-shoot…

Not yet, you snap! There’s certainly quite a few things you wouldn’t mind asking about-THE FAE, LICHES, HAUNTED MUSEUMS, MAYBE… There is one thing linking them together, though–one that you can’t seem to get away from no matter how much you ignore it.

When you meet up with your fellow geeks, you instruct, see what you can get out of them about WILD MAGIC–where it comes from, its effects on people, treatments, the whole nine yards!

W-wild magic…” Denise repeats in a serious tone. “C-consider it done, Stanley! I-I’ll be wr-writing a dissertation on th-the phenomenon by the t-time you c-call agai-

Super, you interrupt, but try to, y’know, simplify it a bit, yea? F-for the other gang members to read, that is!

Mhm!” Agrees the scientist on the other end! “A-and don’t worry–I-I’ll dig up s-some information on At-Atlantis too! Oh!

You nearly sit up. Oh?

Err, n-nothing! J-just approaching a ch-checkpoint…” Denise replies, anxiety building up in her voice! “C-call us l-later, okay? I sh-should have some more intel b-by then… a-and I won’t acc-accidentally call you at a b-bad time!

Very considerate of her. Drumming your fingers against the side of the radio, you take a deep breath before asking Professor Venaas one last thing. Denise?

Y-yes…?” She replies as you hear the van pulling up to something.

Errr, you grumble, thanks. For, uh… doing this.

Wh-why of COURSE!” Oh no, she’s chipper now. “D-don’t mention it, Stanley! R-really-

Alright, you won’t! That’s all for now, then, you reply before she can get another word in! CIAO!

Fleeing to the safety of another channel on the radio, you let loose with a long, contented sigh as you put the device away and sink deeper into your chair!

MAGIC, huh?” Ly remarks as you watch the docks grow smaller in the distance, “I’d be lyin’ if I said I weren’t curious about it too…”

That’s why you asked, you shrug! Whatever the hell it is, you’re affected by it, apparently. Couldn’t hurt to get a little more dirt on it!

“I hear dat’.”

Soaking up a few more rays of sun in blissful silence, by the time your eyes open again from beneath your sunglasses your vessel is much closer to PITCHFORK ROCK!

But, y’know, not close enough…

>CONTD.
>>
File: deepocean.jpg (174 KB, 1280x853)
174 KB
174 KB JPG
>>5251837
Peering over the railing at the sea carrying you along, you feel a small pit form in your stomach as your eyes are met by a dark, yawning abyss below you. Guess you’re away from the beach, huh?

“Yep…” sighs your skeleton as he drifts out of your body for some ASTRAL RECONNAISSANCE. “An’ things seem pretty clear so far–no sign of baddies.”

That’s what you like to hear, you say with a toothy grin! All things considered, this boat heist of yours went pretty well, huh?

“Sure, but don’t even think of jinxin’ us…” Ly replies in a foreboding tone. What, like he did just now? Come on, man! Rising to a sitting position, you can’t help but frown at the approaching rock formation–things are never this easy….

Your growing paranoia makes you antsy. Clearly you’ve got to preoccupy yourself–if you keep focusing on Art’s transmission or how damn deep the water is below you, you’re just gonna flip out!

What’s the plan, Stan?
>NOPE, YOU’RE NOT LEAVIN’ THIS CHAIR! JUST KEEP LOUNGIN’!
>SEE HOW MITZ’ SURVEY BELOW DECK IS GOING–MAYBE SHE FOUND SNACKS!
>TALBOT HASN’T BUGGED YOU IN A BIT–LET’S CHANGE THAT AND CHECK ON THE BOAT’S ‘CAPTAIN’ WHILE WE’RE AT IT!
>SYB COULD USE AN EXTRA PAIR OF EYES–BETTER WATCH THE SEAS WITH HER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5251838
>SEE HOW MITZ’ SURVEY BELOW DECK IS GOING–MAYBE SHE FOUND SNACKS!
See if those goons stashed anything else on this boat (and try to sneak up on Mitzi to see what she’s up to)
>>
>>5251838
>>SEE HOW MITZ’ SURVEY BELOW DECK IS GOING–MAYBE SHE FOUND SNACKS!
>>
>>5251865
>>5251874
>DON'T MITZ THIS OPPORTUNITY!

Writing!
>>
File: mitzidam.png (267 KB, 574x328)
267 KB
267 KB PNG
Hold on a sec here–this is a YACHT! You know what that means!

“We don’t gotta swim anymore?”

Yes, you nod, rising from your lounge chair, but it also means THE FOUR D’S: DRINKS, DRUGS, AND DELICIOUS SNACKS!

Properly motivated once more, you make for the stairs leading to the LOWER DECK with a spring in your step! Golly, you think as you nearly trip over yourself going down the stairs, you’re finally a BOAT OWNER! Maybe this SKELETON APOCALYPSE ain’t so bad after all!

“Dat’s what ya’ said about da’ BUNKER.” Replies your skeleton as you land at the foot of the stairs! Yea, you grunt, and that hasn’t changed!

Speaking of changing, it takes you a moment to realize you aren’t alone–standing in the plush bedroom past a dining table, sitting booth, and kitchen area is Mitz–the Rent-A-Cop eyeing you warily while holding up a WETSUIT to her still-clothed chest.

“Uh… ever hear of knocking?” She asks with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I coulda’ been changing, y’know.”

Good thing you weren’t, you retort, planting your hands on your hips, because the bedroom door’s WIDE open!

“Hm…” Mitz muses, shifting her gaze between you and the open bedroom door, “So it is… So it is…”

Letting her eyes linger on you for a few more moments, the Rent-A-Cop eventually dispels the tension with a nonchalant shrug. “So what’s up, boss? Miss me already?”

Yea right, you groan as you deftly dodge another one of Mitz’ winks! You wanted to check out the SNACK SITCH, is all! And, y’know, you add, scratching the back of your head awkwardly, the uh… the other stuff, too.

“All business, huh?” Pouts Mitz as she takes a seat on the food of the bed. “Well I’ve got good news and bad news, Stan–whatcha’ wanna hear first?”

You’ll start with the bad, you shrug. You’re getting used to that stuff as of late.

“Better to get it over with, right?” She says with a wry grin. “Pantry and fridge are totally empty–guess the owners didn’t want a smelly ship.”

Sh-she’s LYING! It CAN’T BE! Scuttling over to the sizable black fridge, you tear both doors open only to have your worst fears confirmed–both sides and even the freezer are BARREN! Systematically ripping open the cabinets, you’re greeted by nothing but silverware, plates, and cheap cutlery!

“Toldja.” Mitz shrugs as panic sets in! “Good news is that this baby’s got a whole bunch of WETSUITS AND SCUBA GEAR– decent condition, too.”

Sure, you sniff, not bothering to look as Mitz holds up several different-colored wetsuits, but at what COST?

“Would it KILL ya’ ta’ be a little less dramatic every now an’ then?”

Yes. Yes it would.

>CONTD.
>>
File: scubgear.jpg (328 KB, 1200x1200)
328 KB
328 KB JPG
>>5252882
Alright, you sigh as you plop onto the bed next to Mitz, so how much gear do we have, anyways?

“Enough to keep everyone breathing for an hour, give or take.” Shrugs the Rent-A-Cop as she kicks the pile of air cylinders lying on the bedroom floor. “Well, a couple of hours if we take a few an’ swap ‘em out.”

Great plan, genius--how the hell are you supposed to do that underwater, huh?

“Best case scenario: we switch them out when we find ATLANTIS.” Mitz replies, face scrunched up in thought. “... but I guess that’d depend on whether we find an air pocket or not…”

Fingers crossed!

“Yea, gonna need more than that, boss.” The security goon sighs, turning to look at you. “Mind if I squeeze into that SEA CLOAK with ya’ on the way down?”

You respond with a frown–would that even work? It might be okay for LIL’ STANLEY, but-

“Just kidding, boss!” She interrupts with a smile! “Sweet of ya’ to offer, but I probably know my way around a rebreather better than anyone else on this ship. Besides,” Mitz continues as she decides on a wetsuit with crimson accents around the shoulders, “You sink like a rock with that thing on, right? No thanks.”

Rising from the bed, the Rent-A-Cop continues to assemble diving kits on the floor–masks, boots, fins–if you didn’t know better you’d think you’d wandered into a class or something. Or a really weird laundromat…

“Thanks, by the way.” She mutters, earning a raised eyebrow from you. Eh?

“For letting me try out the BACKUUM, ya’ dork.” Mitz giggles as she bleeds one of the air tanks a bit and gives it a whiff. “You know I’m kidding when I mess around with you, though, right?”

You blink. What ‘messing around’ is she talking about now, exactly? The redhead turns to look at you with an interrogating stare. “Y’know… when I act all flustered about you picking other people on the team.” Turning her attention back to the rebreather she’s tinkering with, the Rent-A-Cop shrugs. “Don’t feel bad about your picks, Stan–we’re with ya’ no matter what.”

You scratch the back of your calf with your foot. Like, when you’re picking teams and stuff?

Duh.” She laughs, “What did YOU think I meant?”

Before you can respond, the tomboy waves you and the question away. “Forget it, boss–anything you wanna talk about? I know you didn’t come down here to hear me rant…”

Well now that she mentions it…
CHOOSE 1:
>WHAT’S HER TAKE ON THE REST OF THE TEAM?
>CAN SHE GIVE YOU A RUNDOWN ON SCUBA? JUST IN CASE YOU LOSE YOUR CLOAK, OR WHATEVER!
>WHAT’S HER PLAN ONCE ALL THIS STUFF BLOWS OVER?
>HOW’S SHE DOING, ANYWAYS?
>OKAY SERIOUSLY–IS SHE HITTING ON YOU?
>NAH… YOU’LL LEAVE HER TO IT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5252883
>>CAN SHE GIVE YOU A RUNDOWN ON SCUBA? JUST IN CASE YOU LOSE YOUR CLOAK, OR WHATEVER
>>
>>5252883
>CAN SHE GIVE YOU A RUNDOWN ON SCUBA? JUST IN CASE YOU LOSE YOUR CLOAK, OR WHATEVER!
>>
>>5252954
>>5252971
>SCUBA 101!
Writing!
>>
File: Full_Regulator.jpg (86 KB, 980x539)
86 KB
86 KB JPG
You can’t help but watch Mitzi work–granted, she isn’t doing something really cool like assembling a big pile of handguns or whatever, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a tad enraptured by the way she puts kits together as easily as you tie your shoes!

“Sure…” Ly mutters as you continue to stare, “Dat’s why we always wear laceless boots, right?”

Yep. Sure. Whatever! Waving your snarky bones off, you ask Mitz if she’d mind giving you a quick rundown on SCUBA–y’know… just in case, or whatever!

“Absolutely not.”

Her words hit you like a truck. Wh-wha?

“Naaah, just kidding. I said I’d take you out there once all this was over, didn’t I?” She adds with a toothy grin! “Can’t chuck ya’ in the water while we’re moving, but I can go over the basics…”

Sure, you nod, crossing your arms over your chest! You’re pretty sure you get the idea already, but-

“... but you wouldn’t mind me ironing out the details, right?” She concludes, raising an eyebrow your way. Yea! What she said!

“Watch and learn, flash.” Detaching the mess of rubber tubes and, uh, breathy… bits… from a cylinder, your instructor underhand tosses the tangle into your outstretched hands. “This right here is the regulator, but most folks call it an ‘octopus’.”

Ahhh, you mutter, because of-

“Yep, all the ‘tentacles’.” Mitz says with a grin. Ah. That was your second guess! “You attach this guy to your cylinder along with your buoyancy compensator–that’s the backpack thing.” Following her finger to the shoulder straps lying on the floor, you watch with interest as she buckles it around the cylinder she tested earlier.

“The backpack controls how much you float–pump too much air and you’ll bob on the surface. Too little and you’ll be walking, not diving.” Showing you where the straps attach to the cylinder, Mitzi’s hand wanders over to the valve on top. “Oh right, before I forget: always check your cylinder before ya’ assemble your kit.”

Right, you nod, wouldn’t want to get poisoned or something.

“Sure…” She shrugs, “That and it’s super embarrassing to be the one person holding everyone up while you reassemble. Doesn’t matter now, of course, but… yea.”

Tightening the straps holding the cylinder, she points to the back of the cylinder where the valve sits. “You’re gonna want this in the back, too–otherwise you’ll keep bumping it with your head and it’ll suck, trust me. You can attach the octopus here.” Following her finger to a screw-on point at the top of the cylinder, you stick your tongue out in concentration as you twist it on.

“Make it tight–you want the oxygen to flow into the rebreather, not the water, right?”

DUH!

>CONTD.
>>
File: regleak_opener.jpg (26 KB, 500x347)
26 KB
26 KB JPG
>>5253045
Observing your handiwork, Mitz eventually gives you the nod of approval. “Lookin’ good, Stan. You’re a natural.”

You blink. All you did was twist a tube, though!

“Exactly.” Winks your instructor! “Keep it up and you’ll be doin’ it in your sleep, boss. Now try it on.”

Heaving the assembly onto your back, you can’t help but balk a bit at the weight–what the hell’s in this thing, anyways? ROCK GAS!?

“Close. Pressurized air.” Explains Mitzi as she moves around behind you. “I won’t bore ya’ with the physics crap, but the deeper you go the more air you suck up, so this guy right here will be your best friend.” Before you can ask, the Rent-A-Cop’s hand points you towards a small pressure gauge hanging off the ‘oculus’ or whatever. “When the needle’s in the red it’s time to go home.”

Hey, wait a second… bringing the gauge closer, you give its surface a few forceful taps–the stupid thing’s already in the red! Shitty machine!

“Dang, guess it’s defective.” Mitz groans from behind you. You’re about to take the gear off when you feel a hand dart towards the back of your neck!

Hsst!

So, you whisper, Mitz is actually a SNAKE LADY… you always suspected it, but-

The big reveal is put on hold as your teacher wanders back in front of you with your rebreather in hand! Jiggling the breathing apparatus in your face, she brings the mouthpiece to her lips and takes a slow, deep breath. What the hell?!

“You gotta’ open the valve to breathe the air, dork.” Mitzi explains as she taps your pressure gauge a few times revealing the needle to be near the full pressure mark! “Your turn.”

Placing the rebreather in your mouth like a parent feeding a kid, Mitz nods with approval when it finally dawns on you to breathe. Taking a few more breaths of the surprisingly-cool air, you give your instructor a thumb’s up–say, this stuff ain’t bad!

“Congrats–that was the tricky part.” She concludes as a wry grin forms on her face! “If you lose hold of the rebreather you can just follow the hose near your shoulder.” Gently placing a hand on the tube next to your right shoulder, she runs her fingers all the way back to the mouthpiece. “Any questions so far?” Mitz whispers as she stares intently into your eyes.

Well…

ROLL ME 1d100 FOR NO REASON WHATSOEVER. I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>5253047
The fuck you doing, Bones? Are we rolling to see if Art dies off screen?
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>5253047
Critcritcritcrit

>>5253054
I keked.
>>
Hate to call it here, but it's getting a little late on my end so I'll pick this up TUESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST! Hope to see you then!

>>5253054
: ^)
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>5253047
>>
>>5253054
>>5253059
>>5253170
>HIGHEST ROLL: 65!

Art lives... for now... Writing!
>>
File: mine.png (231 KB, 750x422)
231 KB
231 KB PNG
You’re just about to ask your instructor where the harpoon gun goes when you hear Sybil shout from above! Before you can react, the boat veers to the left, sending you, Mitz, and all of the neatly-organized SCUBA gear flying into the wall! Peeling yourself off, you barely manage to rise to all-fours as your vessel continues its wild back and forth dance!

“Alright,” groans Mitzi as she stumbles to her shaky feet, “The driving raccoon ain’t funny anymore.” She can say that again! As the two of you scramble up the stairs, Syb’s shouting becomes much clearer!

LEFT!” The Goth Screams, sending the ship and everyone on it lurching to the right! “NOW RIGHT!

Bursting into the cockpit, you’re treated to a scene of complete and utter chaos–having abandoned the helm, Lil’ Stanley’s trembling form clings to dear life on the back of Talbot’s head as he spins the wheel back and forth like a madman! The ship’s erratic movement adds violent wakes to the already-turbulent waves around you, and just when you’re about to wrestle your ex-bodyguard away from the helm, you finally spot what he’s trying to avoid!

“Holy cow, Stan–” Ly shrieks as your vessel dodges a dark shape beneath the waves, “We got SEA MINES!

Is he serious right now? You snap as you cling for dear life to the door frame! Now we’ve gotta deal with friggin’ SEA MIMES too!?

MINES, STAN!” Shouts Talbot as the vessel barely scrapes past one of the countless metal sea urchins bobbing to the surface, “They’re friggin’ MINES!
Wow, alright–it was an honest mistake, no need to take my head off-

Whipping the boat around another explosive, Talbot’s batshit driving sends you all hurtling to the side once more! Hey Captain Crazypants– ever consider STOPPING THE DAMN BOAT!?

YEA!” The janitor fires back as he takes the ship over another rough wave, “AND THEN I REMEMBERED WE’RE IN A FRIGGIN’ MINE FIELD! DUUUUR!

“SO WHAT, WE’RE JUST GONNA KEEP CHARGING THROUGH!?” Shouts Mitz as Sybil continues to bark directions from above!

“UNTIL SOMEONE HAS A BETTER IDEA, YEA!” Talbot roars! “I’M ONLY DRIVING BECAUSE THIS PUNK GAVE UP!” He adds, jabbing a thumb at the raccoon clinging to his back! “QUITTER!

Squinting past the, well, minefield of obstacles bobbing ahead, you can almost make out a clear spot but getting there might not be that easy if this moron keeps charging through like a coked-out rhino! Being the HEAD HONCHO, you take charge and decide to:

>KEEP RUSHING THROUGH–YOU AND THE OTHERS CAN BLAST A PATH!
>STOP THE DAMN BOAT FOR A SEC–GOTTA CLEAR A SAFE SPOT FIRST!
>BOATS CAN REVERSE, RIGHT? LET’S JUST BACK OUTTA THIS DAMN THING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5254367
>>STOP THE DAMN BOAT FOR A SEC–GOTTA CLEAR A SAFE SPOT FIRST!

This is where that handy Baccuum comes in handy...
>>
>>5254367
>STOP THE DAMN BOAT FOR A SEC–GOTTA CLEAR A SAFE SPOT FIRST!
>>
>>5254392
>>5254441
>STOP THE DAMN BOAT!

Bit early, I know, but gonna end tonight on a roll again--been busy ever since I got home and it's catching up to me.

ROLL ME 1d100+5 TO CLEAR A SPOT IN THE MINES! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

While you do that, I've got another question or two for ya:

QUESTION 1: WHAT WILL YOU USE TO TAKE THE MINES OUT?

>BACKUUM
>SCOPED RIFLE
>ROCKET LAUNCHER
>EYE LASER
>PUMP SHOTGUN
>REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUUUUUCK
>WRITE-IN!

YOUR PALS WILL PROVIDE SUPPORT AS WELL, BUT IS THERE ANYTHING IN PARTICULAR THEY SHOULD USE?
>MITZI: SMG? SCIENCE GUN?
>TALBOT: REVOLVER? TENTACLES? EYE LASER?
>SYB: ARCANE BOLT? FIREBALL? ARCTIC BLAST?
>LIL' STANLEY: .... yea, nevermind.

Update will be written WEDNESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST. Sorry again about the sporadic posts tonight--gonna have a chill schedule again some day...
>>
Rolled 75 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5254560
>BACKUUM
>TALBOT: REVOLVER? TENTACLES? EYE LASER?

Tentacles. We're not looking to explode anything.
>>
Rolled 74 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5254560
>>5254564 +1
>>
>>5254685
Whoops, looks like I should have said >>5254564
-1
>>
Rolled 69 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5254560
>>5254564 +1
>>
Rolled 66 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5254560
>TALBOT: TENTACLES
Yeah, if he can just gently push a few of them out of the way, that'd be fine.
>>
>>5254564
>>5254685
>>5254793
>HIGHEST ROLL: 80!

Writing!
>>
File: minesweep.jpg (282 KB, 770x578)
282 KB
282 KB JPG
Stop the damn boat, is what! Pouncing on the wheel like a cat hunting a laser pointer, you land face-first on the steering column and deftly manage to yank the throttle back to neutral! As the vessel slows to a halt, you scramble back to your feet and jab a finger in Talbot’s DUMB face! Is he TRYING to get you killed!?

“Not as hard as YOU are!” Ducking his attempt to flick your forehead, you dropkick your ex-bodyguard in the solar plexus just in time for Sybil to blink into the cockpit with a concerned look on her face!

“We’re safer now, but not safe-oh good, you’re fighting again. What a surprise.”

“Yea…” Scoffs Mitz as LIL’ STANLEY abandons Talbot and skitters out the door, “You guys mind dealing with your relationship problems AFTER we avoid getting blown up?”

“If one of those things bumps us, we’re fish food!” Snarls Talbot as he sweeps your legs with a sneaky tentacle! “And guess what’s gonna happen if we sit still in a FRIGGIN’ MINEFIELD!?

Will he quit being a diva for a second, here!? Gnashing your teeth at the tentacle, you attempt a few kip-ups, but after only managing to hurt your tummy, you opt to climb to your feet instead. Like you were saying, you sigh, it’s not like the mines are going fast– they’re only really dangerous if you keep blasting through them like a friggin’ IDIOT!

Before you can argue further, you and the rest of the crew nearly jump through the ceiling at the sound of a low grinding noise along the port side of the boat–that’s the left, right?

“Yep! Nice job, cupcake!”

Anyways, you continue, bolstered by renewed self-confidence and the fact that you didn’t just explode, now that you’re stopped you can just, like, push the mines out of the way a bit!

“How the hell are we supposed to do that, CRAPtain?!” Asks Talbot as a frown forms on his face. “Blow on them until they leave?”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the cockpit.

A FEW MINUTES LATER…

“Alright, I’ll admit it–that was a pretty good idea!”

Right? Blowing the last lingering mine a healthy distance away from the boat with your BACKUUM 1000, you exchange grins with Talbot as he shoves the last one on his side away with a tentacle!

“Yep,” the boy nods, letting the breeze tousle his red mop top hair, “Glad I thought of it!”

Like HELL he did!

>CONTD.
>>
File: pitchforkrock.png (424 KB, 992x646)
424 KB
424 KB PNG
>>5255491
“Apologies for intruding,” Sybil intrudes as she suddenly appears at your side, “but I believe we might have another problem.” When do you NOT!?

Before The Goth can respond, Mitz appears from below deck with a raccoon on her shoulder and a fresh bag of chips in her hands–the former’s head buried in the latter! “What’s the hold up? PITCHFORK ROCK’S just over there.”

Following her gaze to the twisted tower of sharp rocks poking out of the sea, you can’t help but frown as you notice several more mines bobbing between your vessel and your destination. THERE’S her answer, you snap, jabbing a thumb at the explosives.

“About that…” Sighs Sybil, massaging the bridge of her nose at the sudden interruption, “I’m picking up some LIFE below us.”

Wait, what!? You thought SEA BITCH was further out! This thread’s gonna be over in no time!

“Unless it’s that stupid DEMON again.” Talbot grunts, cracking his knuckles menacingly! “Guess it’s time for Round 2, huh?”

“The life signs are too small to be either of them.” Sybil replies, shaking her purple highlighted-head. Mitz cocks her head to the side in confusion.

“Wait a sec–life signs?

“Indeed…” Sybil frowns as she stares at the murky expanse below your vessel. “Twenty, at least. Too big to be fish.”

Sensing danger, Talbot leaps into action and unceremoniously prods you towards the edge of the boat. “The hell are you waiting for, Stan? Cloak up an’ kick their asses!”

Hey, watch the goods, you snarl, smacking his hand away from your back! Who even cares who’s down there? You’re gonna leave in, like, two seconds!

“Which route are we taking, again?” Mitz asks as she scans the water around you. “Is it the one with the mines, or the one with the mines?”

Neither, GENIUS!

>CONTD.
>>
File: deepsea.jpg (85 KB, 1447x900)
85 KB
85 KB JPG
>>5255496
Shoving your hand into Lil’ Stanley’s chip back, it endures the bites it receives and emerges to deposit a mouthful of chips into your open mouth! Mmm, sour cream! Anywaysh, you continue mid-crunch, if you keep doing the STANLEY MANEUVER, you c-

“What the HELL is the STANLEY MANEUVER?” Sneers Talbot. Why, the maneuver you just came up with to clear the mines outta the way, DUUUR! Sticking your tongue out at your fellow janitor, you continue your explanation after snagging another handful of chips.

Onche yrr clrgh drgh mnghs, you chew, yrl-gulp-you’ll have a straight shot to that stupid landmark! Who cares if there’s, like, starfish underneath you, or whatever?

“What if they’re scouts, though?” Mitzi counters, holding the chip bag with two hands as your pet climbs all the way in. “They could already be sending a warning to our target, right?”

“Mitzi’s right–it’s not very safe leaving our vessel here, but we can’t afford to lose the element of surprise…” Sybil adds. “And clearing the remaining mines would take time. Perhaps we’ll find our destination easier once we’re underwater.”

“Yea, but…” Talbot mutters, peering over the edge of the boat with apprehension in his eyes, “but we don’t… we don’t have to go in yet, right? Let’s do it near the rocks, you guys.”

Is he serious?! Two seconds ago he was about to dunk you into the water–now he’s chickening out!?

“I was fine with YOU going in–not, like, all of us! Yet.”

“Whatever we’re gonna do, let’s figure it out soon, yea?” Mitz groans. “By now whatever’s below us coulda’ drafted a letter.”

What’s the plan here?
>CLEAR THE MINES AND CONTINUE TO THE LANDMARK!
>DIVE AND PROCEED UNDERWATER!
>SPLIT UP! (WHO GOES WHERE?)
>WRITE-IN!

AND IF YOU VOTE TO GO UNDERWATER, WHO GOES WITH YOU AND HOW? CHOOSE 1 OR MORE! LIL’ STANLEY WILL STICK WITH THE SEA CLOAK!
>TALBOT! (FISH SPELL? SCUBA GEAR? SEA CLOAK?)
>SYBIL! (SCUBA GEAR? SEA CLOAK?)
>MITZI! (FISH SPELL? SCUBA GEAR? SEA CLOAK?)
>>
>>5255498

>SPLIT UP! (WHO GOES WHERE?)

Talbot and Mitzi on the boat-- they can continue on to the checkpoint. Talbot will need to stay on the surface to take out the mines.

Can't take a gunner with us-- bullets only travel a few meters underwater before slowing to a stop, so we'll take Sybil, who can freeze/burn/whatever's coming at us. She can also probably make good use of the sea cloak since she can use Light Telekinesis to make herself float (she can't be *that* heavy, can she?)
>>
Leaving this open til' THURSDAY AROUND THE USUAL 4-5PM PST! Bit of a choice, I know, so no rush! See you then!

>>5255658
Yep, Syb's pretty light even above water, so she can certainly use the SEA CLOAK that way as long as you're cool with Stan using SCUBA gear or something.
>>
>>5255498
>>5255658 +1
>>
>>5255658
Yeah, this is some solid logic. I’ll back it.
>>
>>5255658
support
>>
>>5255658
>>5255836
>>5256287
>>5256357
>TALBOT AND MITZ: BOAT BROS!
>SYB AND THE STANS: UNDERSEA ADVENTURE!

Writing!
>>
File: underwaterwalk.jpg (108 KB, 976x549)
108 KB
108 KB JPG
“Careful now, Stanley.”

Blub.

Wrapped in your SEA CLOAK, The Goth leads you through a forest of coral and explosive ordnance while your pet watches wide-eyed from the gossamer garment’s folds. It took you a few minutes to get the hang of it, but after floundering and slapping the surface for a few embarrassing minutes, you finally managed to make your way down to your pal!

all the way down. MAN, it’s deep!

“Still don’t get why we didn’t put a wetsuit on, though…” Remarks your skeleton as he floats alongside you. You’d be happy to tell him if you didn’t have a damn AIR TUBE stuffed in your mouth!

“Aha! Take a look at this!”

Motioning you over, Sybil gently grabs your floating form and angles your face towards the sea floor–yep, those are some cool sea cucumbers…

“The TRACKS, Stan.”

Oh, THOSE! Blinking from behind your mask a few times for good measure, you recognize what she’s talking about almost immediately–embedded along the ‘path’ you both found are several pairs of what appear to be some kind of boots–military, from the looks of things.

“Military, I believe.” Sybil remarks as Lil’ Stanley dares to dip her paw through the bubble surrounding them and into the water! That’s what you sa-errr, what you WOULD have said!

Before you can investigate further, the three of you instinctively freeze up at the sound of a motor overhead–until you remember what it belongs to.

“I hope they don’t run into any trouble…” Sybil remarks as far above you an object the size of a thread of yarn pushes mines out of the way of the boat. “The mines might just be the start of our problems…”

“What da’ heck are we even lookin’ for here, anywho?” Ly asks as the tiny boat disappears into the distance above, “Some kinda sealab or somethin’?”

“Hard to say… without guidance from the other teams we’re flying blind. If I had to guess, however, I believe we should be looking for a large ruin of some sort.”

Yea, you blub, and wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of TOTEM?

“Sorry, Stanley–can’t quite understand.” The Goth interjects, pulling Lil’ Stanley back into the cloak as she nearly leaps into the water. Just forget it, Syb–at least YOU can hear you!

“Huh?”

SHHHH!

>CONTD.
>>
File: kelp.jpg (149 KB, 1440x960)
149 KB
149 KB JPG
>>5256624
Aside from a few pushy groupers, the swim goes, well, swimmingly even after you and Syb leave the minefield. Following the tracks down through a kelp forest, your trek is put on hold when the sandy footsteps disappear upon reaching a rocky path!

“Drat.” Sybil hisses, her sour face causing a nearby pufferfish to dart away in fear, “And they’re SO close, too!”

“Any idea on who ‘they’ are?” Ask your bones as he hovers next to your pal. “You said there were a few, yea?”

“Oh, there most certainly are…” Sybil nods as she peers down the path leading into darker waters. “It’s a peculiar place for an outpost of this size, but when have these morons done anything by the books?”

Not willing to gulp seawater again, you settle for sending a series of intricate hand gestures to the ground, the path ahead, and The Goth.

“Yes, Stanley–I’m sure we’ll track them down if we continue along this path.”

You’d BETTER! It’s chilly as hell down here!

“What was that?”

GodDAMN IT!

With nothing but Syb’s vague sense and a general direction to guide you, your expedition takes you deeper into the water and eventually takes you to…

>A SERIES OF SEA CAVES–DARK AS HECK, BUT AT LEAST YOU HAVE FLASHLIGHTS!
>A VAST, UNDERSEA CANYON DOTTED WITH SEVERAL HOLES AND CREVASSES TO HIDE IN!
>A TWISTED BOG OF KELP, CORAL, AND POOLS OF SLUDGE–WHAT THE HECK IS THAT STUFF, ANYWAYS?
>THE REMAINS OF SOME KIND OF ALGAE-CAKED MASONRY–SOMETHING USED TO BE HERE ONCE UPON A TIME!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5256627
>THE REMAINS OF SOME KIND OF ALGAE-CAKED MASONRY–SOMETHING USED TO BE HERE ONCE UPON A TIME!
>>
>>5256627
>THE REMAINS OF SOME KIND OF ALGAE-CAKED MASONRY–SOMETHING USED TO BE HERE ONCE UPON A TIME!
>>
Gonna pick this back up FRIDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST--hope to grind out a few more updates then! Happy Almost Friday!
>>
>>5256627
>THE REMAINS OF SOME KIND OF ALGAE-CAKED MASONRY–SOMETHING USED TO BE HERE ONCE UPON A TIME!
>>
>>5256653
>>5256951
>>5257059
>ALGAE CAKESSSS

Writing!
>>
File: sybexcite2.png (144 KB, 800x600)
144 KB
144 KB PNG
Drifting behind your pale-faced friend, you can't help but marvel at the kelp towering overhead! Trees!? UNDERWATER!? You never woulda' believed it.

"Look, Stan!" Interrupts Syb as the two of you emerge into what passes for a clearing underwater, "Up on that promontory!"

What's that about a phlebotomy?

"Too late, kid."

Ly's right--you barely have time to blub a response before your pal scampers off like a sugared-out kid at a theme park! Paddling after her, her destination gradually emerges from the undersea muck as you get closer: a collection of stone spires jutting out of a plateau--each one draped with thick algae where a rainbow of fish graze. Not bound to hills and paths, you manage to keep pace with the girl despite your buoyancy differences, and by the time you reconvene at the foot of the hill leading into the ruins, Sybil's already worked up a sweat.

"Stan..." She pants with a wild look in her saucer-sized eyes, "T-tell me I'm not dreaming, please!"

Blub.

"Think dat's an affirmative, teach." Ly guesses as The Goth skips up the hill. "Teach?"

"Just look at it all, Ly!" She chirps, darting to and fro among the piles of smooth, dark masonry like a squirrel raiding a spilled bird feeder, "The craftsmanship--the CONDITION! Completely different from those in the Mermaid Tunnels, and..."

Good, you blub as Sybil continues her rant, the less you see of those creeps the BETTER. Ignoring the pleading look Lil' Stanley gives you from the folds in the babbling bibliophile's cloak, you instead opt to get the most out of your SCUBA gear and take a look around of your own.

"So uh," Ly remarks as you peer into the remains of a room covered in immaculately-carved geometric shapes, "I'm guessin' dis' ain't where dose' sources of life were?"

"Regrettably not..." Mutters Syb as she methodically stuffs a handful of sludge-covered doodads into her sweater pocket next to the increasingly-flustered raccoon. "Aside from the local wildlife that's settled in, I don't detect anything resembling the owners of our mysterious footprints..." Pausing her hoarding for a brief moment, The Goth looks your way with bulging eyes. "This, though... this place is living proof that someone was here--not NOW, of course, but, well... j-just LOOK!"

Blinking into existence inches from your nose, you nearly spit your rebreather out as the girl stuffs two shaking handfuls of WEIRD ANCIENT CRAP into your arms!

"Fill your pockets, Stanley--once this all blows over I'll have made the discovery of the CENTURY!" Grinning at you with twitching eyelids, Sybil blinks away with a maddened giggle and resumes her treasure hunt as Lil' Stanley holds on for dear life!

"Huh." Remark your bones as you both watch your pal's downward spiral with interest, "You think she'da lost her mind at da' MUSEUM, too?"

You shrug. If you had a nickel for every time Syb tiptoed along the deep end, you wouldn't be mopping BONE DUST!

>CONTD.
>>
File: underruins.jpg (43 KB, 1280x720)
43 KB
43 KB JPG
>>5257601
With your pal clearly preoccupied, you continue to search the room from before as Ly emerges from your body in his ASTRAL FORM!

"I'll keep a lookout. Try not ta' set off a trap or somethin'."

TRAP. Bah! Waving him off as you swim deeper into one of the surviving structures, your face becomes intimately acquainted with a polished stone wall before you can correct your trajectory. OW! Rubbing your masked nose, you paddle back a little bit to get a closer look at what you discovered: dominating the room like a wide, rectangular obelisk, your discovery is surprisingly light on barnacles and algae--so much so that you can almost see your reflection in its polished surface.

Huh... these are ruins, right? Where are all the, like, murals and wall art and crap? Giving the monolith a good flick, you recoil a bit when a small, translucent eel darts out from a hole at its base! Leaving you with a cautionary hiss, the sea critter makes for greener, or in this case bluer, pastures as you stoop lower to examine its nest.

Roughly as wide as a tall can is, well, tall, the recess houses two small, circular holes on each side--almost as if it were…

"A battery slot."

GAH! Flailing at the sudden voice, you turn to find the grime-covered husk of your BFF Sybil standing behind you like a disheveled scarecrow. "Excellent find, Stanley--t-there's bound to be a power source somewhere..."

"Nothin' below..." Ly announces as he drifts through the rock below you. "You uh, you okay, teach?"

"NEVER BETTER." She snaps as she shoves a few messy bangs out of her face. "Just... just overwhelmed... just overwhelmed..." As you watch Syb trace the bottom of the monolith to a series of snaking rectangular patterns on the muck-covered floor, you lock eyes with Lil' Stanley as she gives you the animal-equivalent gesture meaning 'oh no she AIN'T!'

"There's a clue here, Stanley, and we're going to find it." Sybil mutters as she idly taps her EYEBROW PIERCING CAMERA. "Eye sharp, now--this could lead us straight to ATLANTIS. Eyes sharp."

Trotting off with a few more 'eyes sharp' under her breath, Sybil makes her way over to another structure just across the way. yep, you blub, that's our Syb!

"Stan..." Ly murmurs as you poke at the monolith more, "Where'd all da' fish go?"
ROLL 1d100+5 FOR REASONS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 88 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5257602
first
>>
Rolled 58 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5257602
>>
Rolled 71 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5257602
>>
>>5257606
>>5257612
>>5257619
>HIGHEST ROLL: 93!

Speedy little spuds today, ain'cha? Excellent! Writing!
>>
File: stantraysure.png (558 KB, 634x600)
558 KB
558 KB PNG
Uh-UH, you blub, not THIS time! Whirling around as best you can in SCUBA gear, you extend your claws a few inches away from the face of a VERY insulted-looking grouper! Oh… errr, ‘sorry’...

Swimming away with disdain plastered on its massive face, one fish still doesn’t make a bunch! Ly’s right, too–you scarcely spent a minute looking at the monolith before everyone left! Exiting the dilapidated room, you peer around the corners for anything resembling a sea critter, but the search proves fruitless!

“Dat’s not good…” Your skeleton remarks before floating over to Syb’s last haunt. “Hey, Teach–you seein’ dis’?”

“AbsoLUTELY.” She responds as she digs through a pile of rubble like a dog! “Keep it up, you two! Mhm! Good Stan!”

… alright, normally you love when she gives you praise, but this seems funky. Paddling over to her, your approach is harried by a shower of debris as she continues her impromptu archaeology expedition! Ducking and diving through a hail of dirt, peculiar gizmos, scrap metal, and the occasional detritivore, you notice something mid-dodge that puts your growing irritation on hold!

Atop one of the outpost’s central spires sits a RECTANGULAR DOODAD– one that would probably fit into that eel den you tracked down! Now if only there was a way to reach it…
… oh. Right. You’re just about to go and fetch it when another piece of debris just barely misses your head from Syb’s tra-err, RELIC pile!

Oops, sorry–meant to say it barely HITS your head. It HITS you. Ow! Rubbing your now-sore skull, you track your aggressor as it tumbles through the water and into a crack in the rocks!

“STAN!” Ly shouts, ghostly form diving towards you like a ghastly puffin, “I just saw somethin’ fall into da’ rocks! Somethin’ BIG!

Ya don’t say…

… is what you’d like to say! This SCUBA thing is tricky, man! Doesn’t help that Mitz only taught you a few risque-looking ‘emergency hand-gestures’! Responding instead with an impatient growl, Ly seems to get the hint and follows the BIG THING in question down below!

“Get a load’a DIS’!” He reports as Sybil continues to mumble vague notes to herself a few feet away from you, “It’s a CHEST, Stan!”

Now it’s YOUR turn to get a little excited–a ch-ch-ch-CHEST, you say? F-for TREASURE?!

“Stanley–come help me dig!” Sybil commands from a growing mound of dirt! “Chop-chop! Hurry, now!”

Oof… on one hand, TREASURE. On the other, Syb’s totally gonna get annoyed if you don’t help her out–she’s definitely in one of her moods.

Oh, and there’s that WHATZIT on the spire above, too–might be a good idea to snatch that up.

… where did those fish go, though?

>CONTD.
>>
File: choosereward.png (299 KB, 1280x720)
299 KB
299 KB PNG
>>5257660
WHAT DO YOU GRAB FIRST?

>THE CHEST! TREASURE!
>THE GIZMO ATOP THE SPIRE!
>HELP SYB DIG BEFORE SHE GETS NASTY!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5257664
>>THE CHEST! TREASURE!
>>
>>5257664
>THE CHEST! TREASURE!
I feel like whatever we get out of it will make Syb happy enough that she'll overlook our wandering.
>>
>>5257664
>THE CHEST! TREASURE!
>>
>>5257664
>THE CHEST! TREASURE!
>>
>>5257664
>THE GIZMO ATOP THE SPIRE!
>>
>>5257670
>>5257903
>>5257927
>>5257930
>TREASURE HUNT!

>>5258032
>OOH, GIZMO!

Sorry, all--passed out last night and forgot to do that annoying check-in thing I always do! Writing!
>>
File: gooorb.gif (1.07 MB, 300x180)
1.07 MB
1.07 MB GIF
Normally you know better than to ignore Syb when she’s in GEEK MODE, but hey–if you find some TREASURE you can just buy a NEW Syb, right? Maybe a less-bossy one that’s less attractive than you! Err, not that the current one is, of course!

Pretending you didn’t hear her, you pop your BONE CLAWS and get to levering the box out of the crack. For anyone else it’d be slow-going, but you’re a seasoned alumni of the SCHOOL OF GETTING LOOSE CHANGE OUT OF VENTS AND CRACKS AT WORK!

… when the hell is your building gonna spring for those card-operated laundry machines, anyways?

As the chest wrenches free of its coraly prison, it dawns on you again that none of that shit matters anymore–once this is all over you can probably BUY someone to wash your clothes! Now THAT’S rich!

If Syb notices your tardiness, she doesn’t show it. Muttering in her hole a few feet away, The Goth doesn’t react as you stick a claw into the chest’s locking mechanism.

“Say…” Ly remarks, swooping over to you with suspiciously-good timing, “Dat’ kinda looks like da’ chest Talbot found when he fell off dat’ cliff, don’t it?”

Now that he mentions it, it does! Doesn’t matter, though–this shit’s YOURS! Responding to your bones with a feral snarl, you pop open the chest to get a good glimpse of your findings!


… Hm.

“Well?” Ly asks, leaning in for a closer look. What is he, blind? The first thing you notice is something wrapped in a bundle of a dark, netted mesh of some kind–one that seems to keep the water around you from seeping in. Next to it sits a small JAR of some sort, but the eerie green glass and the bizarre fleshy flakes stacked inside don’t remind you of anything you’ve ever seen on a convenience store shelf.

Must be some foreign snack, or something.

Nestled between the wrapped-up item and the jar, however, are a few GOOEY ORBS– each glowing with a faint blue aura! Scooping one up with your claw, you notice a small, disc-shaped object floating in the middle–its surface fizzing with faint static electricity!

For a moment you consider taking a bite, but you’ve learned that lesson far too many times messing with the electrical panels at work–not this time!

“You gonna unwrap dat’ package in there, or what?” Ly asks, shaking you from your thoughts. Nodding impatiently, you pull the mesh open to reveal…

Seriously?

INVENTORY PASTEBIN UPDATED!
>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (41 KB, 425x425)
41 KB
41 KB PNG
>>5258578
“Talk about convenient, ey?” Remarks your skeleton as you hold up another SEA CLOAK. Sure, you shrug, but what’s the deal here? Are these things mass-produced or something?

“Can’t hear ya, cupcake.” Ly interjects as he pokes a spectral finger at the garment. “Say, why don’t ya’ put dat’ on an-”

HOLD THAT THOUGHT!

Feeling something whip through the water behind you, you duck to the side just in time to avoid a long, razor-sharp spear whizzing past your cheek! Embedding itself into the rock, the spear’s tip crackles with electricity before a hair-thin wire yanks it back from where it came from!

“Oops! Let’s call that one a warning toss, ‘kay?”

Oh HELL no. Snatching the SECOND SEA CLOAK from the container, you wrap it around you as fast as you can as you turn to face your assailant!

… oops, make that assailantS.

“Well, well, well, look what the catfish dragged in! You’re looking healthy, Stanley!”

Spread out in a triangle formation in the water above you floats a pack of MERMAIDS– each carrying one of those nasty STORM STAVES and a manic grin hidden behind those stupid helmets they like to wear.

“Awww cripes...” Ly groans as you rip your rebreather out of your mouth. What the hell are these jerks doing here anyways? Didn’t you warcrime the heck outta’ their town?

“Yep! THE DEEP MOTHER was real sore about it!” Explains the leader with a giggle! “And when she heard you were heading for THE FORBIDDEN ZONE, she got really mad! Now you’ve gotta go back to the PRISON! Mom’s orders!”

Spinning her staff menacingly, the leader points the crackling tip in your direction and winks! “You escaped before, but no one eludes me for long! I’ve got the nose of a dogfish!”

Adopting a fighting stance, you can’t help but falter a bit as a distressing thought comes to mind–you, uh, you’re erm.. You’re not RACIST or anything, but uh… who was she again? They all look the same to you. Not in, like, a RACIST way, though! You had a mermaid friend once!

She tried to eat you and you didn’t want to be her friend, but-

“Kee hee HEE! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already!” Replies the ringleader amidst a chorus of giggles from her pals, “It’s me, Stan–your old friend GUPPY! I led you to FLOTSAM before you destroyed it, remember?”

Ah. This bitch...

>CONTD.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (65 KB, 425x425)
65 KB
65 KB PNG
>>5258580
“Yep, THE DEEP MOTHER wasn’t impressed with how I handled things.” The mermaid shrugs. “But she won’t give us our punishment until I take you in, so~”

Guppy eagerly clicks her serrated teeth. “Don’t make a fuss, okay? We’ve been waiting a LONG time for that tasty, tasty pain!”

Nodding in excited unison, the mermaids are just about to strike when a cluster of MAGICAL BOLTS scatter their ranks! Turning towards their origin as the mermaids disperse among the ruins, you share a confused glance with a much more composed-looking Syb!

“What?” She asks, readying another spell. “Just because I’m excited doesn’t mean I’m oblivious!”

Right… well if these idiots want pain so much, you’re happy to dish some out! As Lil’ Stanley snarls at the ruins around you, the two of you prepare to ambush your ambushers… but how?
https://youtu.be/Pd8gwYJA6Y4
>DRAW THEM IN WITH YOUR BACKUUM!
>COORDINATE WITH LY AND BLAST ‘EM WITH YOUR EYE LASERS!
>KICK UP SOME DIRT AND CARVE ‘EM UP IN THE CONFUSION!
>CHUCK ONE OF THOSE GOOEY THINGS YOU FOUND IN THE CHEST AT SOMEONE!
>WAIT FOR THEM TO COME TO YOU, THEN COUNTER!
>WRITE-IN!

AND WHAT ABOUT SYB?
>FLUSH ‘EM OUT WITH ARCANE BOLTS!
>PUT THEM ON ICE WITH AN ARCTIC BLAST–LY CAN POINT ‘EM OUT!
>HASTEN STAN–SHE CAN USE IT BETTER!
>CHARGE IN WITH YOUR RADIANT BLADE!
>WRITE-IN!

LIL’ STANLEY!
>HISS AT THE MERMAIDS!
>SCRATCH YOURSELF!
>BITE SYBIL TO ASSERT DOMINANCE!
>TRY TO FIND SOME FOOD!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5258582
>>DRAW THEM IN WITH YOUR BACKUUM!
>PUT THEM ON ICE WITH AN ARCTIC BLAST–LY CAN POINT ‘EM OUT!
>HISS AT THE MERMAIDS!
>>
>>5258582
>DRAW THEM IN WITH YOUR BACKUUM!
>PUT THEM ON ICE WITH AN ARCTIC BLAST–LY CAN POINT ‘EM OUT!
>SCRATCH YOURSELF!
>>
>>5258582
>DRAW THEM IN WITH YOUR BACKUUM!
>PUT THEM ON ICE WITH AN ARCTIC BLAST–LY CAN POINT ‘EM OUT!
>HISS AT THE MERMAIDS!
>>
>>5258582
>CHUCK ONE OF THOSE GOOEY THINGS YOU FOUND IN THE CHEST AT SOMEONE!

>PUT THEM ON ICE WITH AN ARCTIC BLAST–LY CAN POINT ‘EM OUT!

>EQUIP STAN'S NEW SEA CLOAK AND BECOME AN UNDERWATER COMBAT SUPER RACCOON
>>
>>5258635
>>5258582

>>EQUIP STAN'S NEW SEA CLOAK AND BECOME AN UNDERWATER COMBAT SUPER RACCOON

Changing the raccoon part of my vote to this!
>>
>>5258635
>>5258644
>>5258672
>>5258679
>>5258690
>STAN: DRAW EM' IN WITH YOUR BACKUUM!
>SYB: ARCTIC BLAST!
>LIL' STANLEY: FUCK YES THIS IS WHY I LOVE WRITE-INS!

Time for a few rolls! You'll be getting some BONEUSES too, so no sweat!

ROLL ME 3d100--ONE FOR STAN (+10 FOR SEA LEGS AND BUNNY SUIT), ONE FOR SYB (+5 DUE TO LY'S GUIDANCE), AND ONE FOR LIL' STANLEY (SHE TOTALLY SUCCEEDS WITH THE CLOAK THING--JUST ROLLING HERE FOR ATTACKS).

I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! If you have any specific attack or strat in mind for everyone's favorite raccoon... LIL' Stanley, in case you got confused, write 'er in!
>>
Rolled 79 (1d100)

>>5258783
>>
Rolled 8, 34 = 42 (2d100)

>>5258783

These are for Syb and Lil' Stanley.
>>
Rolled 19, 94, 44 = 157 (3d100)

>>5258783
The only thing they shall feed are the lampreys.
>>
Rolled 55, 16, 49 = 120 (3d100)

>>5258783
>>
>>5258811
>>5258816
>>5258863
>>5258868
>HIGHEST ROLLS:
>STAN: 89 TOTAL!
>SYBIL: 99!
>LIL' STANLEY: 49.... BUT IT WAS A GREAT WRITE-IN SO LET'S BUMP THAT UP TO A SUCCESS, SHALL WE?

Writing! Playing games with pals in a little bit so this might be the last update of the evening--we'll see how things go!
>>
File: Spoiler Image (853 KB, 773x450)
853 KB
853 KB PNG
Turning towards Syb, you use your newly-recovered voice to give her some instructions for once: COOL THEM DOWN A LITTLE BIT, SYB!

“... What?”

PUT ‘EM ON ICE!

“Errm, sorry?” She asks, looking at you with utter confusion. “We’re being attacked, Stan-”

Sure enough, a salvo of STORM STAFF hurtles through the water around you–you and Syb just barely managing to dodge them! Before you can be a bit more specific, a familiar fuzzball scrambles out from Syb’s SEA CLOAK snarling like a rabid beast!

… which, y’know, she might just be. It’s not like you took her to a vet or anything…

Tearing through the water like a furry missile, shock and awe freezes you in place as Lil’ Stanley uses her momentum to grab your new SEA CLOAK in her jaws! What the hell, man!? You just got the ability to talk back!

“Stan!” Sybil hisses as she fires a few ARCANE BOLTS around the buildings, “Were you telling me to FREEZE them?!”

Watching your pet scurry angrily away with your cloak wrapped around her, you barely manage to yelp out an affirmative before you feel seawater rush to fill your mouth! Stuffing the rebreather back in, you take a few frantic breaths as you dodge another STORM STAFF to the face!

“Gee, Gupp, what do we do about her friend?” Asks one of your assailants as she darts between the ruins!

“Mother didn’t say~let’s eat her!” Replies another in a singsong voice!

“She wants Stanley alive!” Guppy commands as she swoops in to swipe at you from behind! “She oughta’ stop fighting if we break her legs–humans HATE that!”

Another mermaid dives for your leg as you struggle to don your BACKUUM 1000 underwater! “Golly, Guppy–you sure are smart! I wanna try!”

Swiping at your attacker, you growl behind your rebreather as the target easily dodges your attack! “Too slow, huuuumaaaan~” Jeering like a kid at a playground, the mermaid barely ducks behind some debris before a low, menacing growl rings out throughout the water!

“OoOoOh… what are YOU?

Hatred incarnate… and your PET!

>CONTD.
>>
File: bloodwater.jpg (24 KB, 640x360)
24 KB
24 KB JPG
>>5259025
Since your mouth is stuffed with a rebreather, the poor mermaid’s answer comes in the form of a whirling dervish of claws and teeth! Giggling with sick enjoyment, the mermaid’s laughs become more hollow as the water behind the debris fills with clouds of fresh blood!

“Look out, girls! We aren’t allowed to die yet!” Barks Guppy as she leads her team away from your pet’s handiwork!

Luuuckyyy!” Groaning with jealousy, one of the stragglers doesn’t evade fast enough and is tackled by the rampaging beast! As the others watch with unhealthy interest, Sybil takes a chance and sends a stream of solid ice ripping through the water! Darting out of the way like, well, fish, the mermaids probably woulda’ gotten away had you not brought a certain BANNED CLEANING PRODUCT into the fray!

Roaring to life like a demon from hell, your BACKUUM immediately gets to work sucking up the water around you! It does such a good job, in fact, that despite their evolutionary advantages, the group of mermaids are yanked backwards–just in time to be caught in a blanket of frost!

One mermaid strikes out–caught mid-freeze, the hunter is neatly bisected as the power of your backuum rips her lower half free from her frozen top! Slowed by chunks of ice clinging to their bodies, both Guppy and her last remaining soldier (not counting the one currently being eviscerated by the feral raccoon, of course) give each other a knowing nod before darting towards a nearby kelp forest!

“They’re runnin’!” Exclaims Ly, A.K.A ‘CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!

“That was fun!” Guppy croons as she shakes the frost off in mid-swim! “You win for now, Stan, but you’d better not die in that FORBIDDEN ZONE!

“Yea!” Adds Guppy’s associate, “Mother’s good at waiting, so we’ll be back later! BAIIIII~”

D’awww, that’s cute--they think they’re escaping! Swimming after the two, you prepare to tear these finned freaks outta’ the script… PERMANENTLY!

What do?!
>BACKUUM THEM IN AND TEAR ‘EM TO SHREDS!
>LAUNCH LIL’ STANLEY AT THEM!
>HEY SYB, DO FIREBALLS STILL WORK UNDERWATER?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5259027
>>BACKUUM THEM IN AND TEAR ‘EM TO SHREDS!
>>
>>5259027
>HEY SYB, DO FIREBALLS STILL WORK UNDERWATER?
>>
>>5259027
>BACKUUM THEM IN AND TEAR ‘EM TO SHREDS!
Man, it's nice to be a bit of a psychopath.
>>
>>5259064
>>5259068
>STAN: BACKUUM!
>SYB: FIREBALL!

Gonna combine these two, I think! It'll be just like that Mario and Luigi game! ROLL ME 2d100--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
STAN + 10 (SEA LEGS AND BUNNY SUIT)
SYB + 0

Updates will be sporadic tomorrow since it'll be Mother's Day where I'm at, so if I don't manage to write something earlier on in the day, just assume the next one will be written MONDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST!
>>
>>5259247
Shit, sorry, senpai--just missed you! We can go with the BACKUUM/SLASH plan if you'd like!
>>
>>5259256
Not sure why it filtered that to 'senpai', but there it is. Will write whichever update tomorrow morning, most likely.
>>
Rolled 97, 64 = 161 (2d100)

>>5259250
>>
Rolled 98, 21 = 119 (2d100)

>>5259250
>>
Rolled 74, 68 = 142 (2d100)

>>5259250
>>
Rolled 40, 58 = 98 (2d100)

>>5259250
>>5259258
I don't mind. I found out that it also filters the abbreviation for 'to be honest' to 'desu'.
>>
>>5259340
>>5259366
>>5259374
COMBO ATTACK RESULTS:
>STAN: 108!
>SYBIL: 68!

That'll do it! Work was pretty shitty today so apologies in advance if I don't chug out a bunch of updates. That said...

WRITING
>>
File: soup.jpg (33 KB, 600x472)
33 KB
33 KB JPG
Fueled by adrenaline, anger, and some sick enjoyment that you might want to get checked out once all this is said and done, your flipper-clad feet propel you through the water like a tuna on a mission! Sensing your approach, both mermaids slow down a bit to watch you with their perpetually-grinning faces!

“Oh~ho~ho… The human decided to follow us! How cute!” Chirps Guppy’s only surviving lackey as she exchanges a knowing glance with her partner!

“Guess she changed her mind, hmm?” Guppy replies with a wink! “Well if she wants to play that badly…”

Darting back towards you with, well, fish-like agility, the two mermaids close the gap in seconds with teeth bared and staves extended!

DIBS ON HER LEGS!” Guppy shrieks, eyes gleaming with murderous intent! Returning the stare with one of your own, a grim smile forms behind your respirator as you draw your BACKUUM NOZZLE once more and point it at the fishgirls! They might have the home advantage, but you’ve got the… the uh… BONE ADVANTAGE! YEA!

Setting the BACKUUM to ‘BLOW’ with swiftness only BONE SPEED can provide, you simultaneously launch yourself Sybward and avoid being eviscerated in the process!

“Heyyy, no FAIR!” Snarls Guppy as she and her friend whiff their mauling! “Kelpie, gnaw her arms off so she can’t CHEAT anymore!”

“With PLEASURE!” Growls the other mermaid! Hurtling towards the surface, you trade a knowing glance with Syb as the mermaids realize their folly!

“Waitaminute–we gotta go, Gup-”

Oh they’ll go, alright! To… to HELL!

Though your one-liner is garbled by your respirator, both mermaids can tell they’ve messed up! Flipping the BACKUUM to ‘SUCK’, you and Syb share a devious grin as the water around her starts to steam and bubble! Pointing her hand at the fleeing fish, Syb gives you a curt nod before delivering their sendoff:

“Soup’s on, you freaks.”

And with that, she turns up the heat a little!

>CONTD.
>>
File: oceanvent.jpg (83 KB, 1200x900)
83 KB
83 KB JPG
>>5261646
You’ve gotta admit–you would have been pretty P.O’ed if Syb’s FIREBALL didn’t work down here, especially after all of that buildup! To your immense pleasure, however, and to your fishy friend’s displeasure, a massive streak of bubbles bursts forth from Sybil’s extended hand! Hissing and fizzing towards the mermaids, the boiling water laps at where you assume their heels would be as the two make a break for it!

Before they can flee, however, you’re already sucking them back in! Roaring to life once more, your BACKUUM reels your foes in like, well, fish! As the bubbles catch up with them, the mermaids slow down a bit as they realize what’s happening.

“Hey… this hurts!” Guppy giggles as her scales start to flake and peel from her lower half!

“Yea!” Kelpie nods, “A LOT!

Something inside you argues that you should probably feel worse about watching these two disintegrate, but prior experience tells you these sick fucks are totally enjoying it.

Also, screw em’--they were gonna feed you to a freaky tentacle mom thing!

Madly giggling as they’re flash-boiled by Syb’s FIREBALL, the mermaid’s laughter slowly morphs into a dry cackle as the heat engulfs their heads as well. Disappearing into a cloud of steam and blood, by the time Guppy and her assistant reemerge, they look ready to be served with a side of fries and coleslaw.

Naturally, Lil’ Stanley tackles and starts gnawing on them mere seconds after the two hit the ground. Switching off your vacuum, you give Syb a thumb’s up. Stick a fork in ‘em–they’re done.

“I suppose that settles that…” She remarks as you snatch up your pet and the SEA CLOAK wrapped around her! “Shame, though–I’ll admit I’m a bit curious as to what they meant by ‘forbidden zone’...”

They told you enough, you reply, relishing the ability to talk again, they called it ‘forbidden’--that means you aren’t gonna get ambushed by any more of those creeps if you keep moving!

“Perhaps.” Sybil shrugs as she prods Guppy’s steamed corpse with her boot. “But I shudder to think what qualifies as a place that even THE DEEP MOTHER won’t go.”

Not your problem, okay? Stuffing your pet raccoon into your pockets before it can maul you, you set your sights on greener pastures–namely your next move.

>CONTD.
>>
File: hobgoblins.jpg (1.43 MB, 2081x2555)
1.43 MB
1.43 MB JPG
>>5261647
That GIZMO seems to have fallen to the ground somewhere in the middle of your scrap with Guppy and friends, so you waste no time in picking it up and stuffing it into your pockets!

“Musta’ tried ta’ use dat’ as a trap, huh?” Ly remarks as you watch Syb peel one of the STORM STAVES from the charred corpses. “Didn’t work, clearly.”

No, you reply with a shake of your head, no it didn’t. Idly tossing the doodad, you raise an eyebrow at your pale pal. Is, uh, is she good? You haven’t seen her that wound up since she went to that seminar on HOBGOBLINS at the community college!

That was much different.” She counters, crossing her arms with a haughty huff. “But yes, I’m fine–nothing spoils an academic appetite quite like an attempt on your life.”

You hear that!

“Doesn’t mean you can use dat’ excuse for da’ rest of your life, cupcake.” Ly remarks as Lil’ Stanley gnaws on something metal in your pocket. WATCH ME!

INVENTORY PASTEBIN UPDATED!

>CONTD.
>>
File: batteries.png (181 KB, 495x262)
181 KB
181 KB PNG
>>5261649
“So…” Ly remarks as you and Syb catch your collective breath, “You, uh, you gonna use dat’ thing, or what?”

You ARE using it, MORON. You’re WEARING it!

“... I was talkin’ about dat’ THINGAMAJIG ya’ picked up.” Your skeleton continues, earning an intrigued look from Syb.

“Yes… I sense some energy in that device–almost as if it was meant to power something.”

OoOoOOh, you groan, so it’s a battery? Big whoop! The derisive words barely leave your lips before Syb blinks over and flicks your forehead! OW!

“Big whoop is right! This outpost suggests that the Atlanteans we’re about to deal with are highly sophisticated in the ways of science–ways that we could stand to learn from, Stan!”

Alright, ALRIGHT, you snap, just quit it with the flicking! Shoving her hand away, you turn and scan the ruins one more time–besides, you know EXACTLY where to take this thing!

“Dat’ monolith’s a good bet.” Ly suggests, prompting you to do a 180 degree turn. Y-yea, that was your second idea! Marching over to the monolith in question, you do a quick EEL CHECK before stuffing the WHATZIT into the recess!

… and what a surprise: NOTHING HAPPENS!

“That’s cuz’ ya’ gotta shove it in lengthwise, ya dope.” Explains your skeleton as he borrows your hand to correct your error. “See?”

Indeed you do–seconds after the THINGERMABOB is put in the correct way, the monolith’s impeccably-flat surface comes to life with a sudden flash of countless purple lights!

“Amazing…” Sybil hisses under her breath as she enters the ruined building behind you. “Simply amazing.”

Okay, Ly didn’t do THAT much-oh, the lights. Right. Watching them dance along the smooth, black surface, you and Lil’ Stanley exchange a clueless glance as the illuminated bits coalesce into some kind of…

“...map?” Syb suggests in a hushed tone. Not your first guess, but sure!

Once she says those words, though, you can’t unsee it–a collection of small cubes on a hill, a vast, lightless valley dominated by the base of a massive, underwater mountain to the EAST, and past all that a yawning precipice… and a colossal PYRAMID.

“Hm.” Sybil grunts as an unimpressed look forms on her pale face, “Pyramid Power. Perhaps they’re not as advanced as I thought.”

That was quick!

>CONTD.
>>
File: amap.png (19 KB, 773x450)
19 KB
19 KB PNG
>>5261650
As you study the map closer, you come to several conclusions: heading due EAST will put you at the base of the mountain, wherever the hell that leads. If you go around it, though, you’ll be right on track towards your destination! Oh right, and moving your hand close to the screen causes some PECULIAR SYMBOLS to appear next to some of the landmarks. Nifty!

“Don’t touch, Stan,” Sybil warns in a stern tone. “This device is old–one wayward touch may very well reduce it to rubble.”

Removing one of your ROCKET-PROPELLED GRENADES from her mouth, Lil’ Stanley gives The Goth an apologetic squeak as she gently stuffs the ordnance back into your pocket. What a scamp! You’re just about to give the critter a good SCRITCH behind the ears when you’re startled by a burst of static–one that sends said critter scrambling onto your head and under your hat for cover!

“Is that the RADIO?!” Asks Syb in a much more urgent tone! “Check it, Stan–it might be Art-err, the others! Yes,” she stammers, sending a stage cough into her fist, “We, erm, we’re due for a status report, don’t you think?”

Sure, you dork, whatever you say! Bringing the item in question to your lips, you press the ‘SEND’ button and try a few greetings!

But you get no response.

“N-no matter!” Sybil shrugs with a nervous giggle! “We’ll just have to try later, Stan… Can’t be helped, I guess!”

“Sheesh, teach… yer’ mood’s swingin’ all over da’ place today, huh?” Ly muses from the safe confines of your body! “Artie really musta’ done a number on ya’, huh-”

In typical fairness, you’re the one who gets put into a headlock! Wha-gck! What the hell?!

“Enjoy your sanctuary, Ly…” Growls Syb as she tightens her hold around your neck, “While it lasts...”

Releasing you with a look that could shatter stone, Sybil takes the opportunity to adjust her hair while you regain your breath. Damn it, Ly!

“W-we’re pals, r-right, Stan?” Ly asks, still shaking under your skin. “Y-you ain’t gonna let her… get me, r-right?”

Glancing at your high-booted homie, all you can do is shrug–you, uh, you’re not sure you can keep that promise, dude. Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, you decide to focus on your next move–Mitz and Talbot are probably waiting, after all!

You shudder to think what mischief those two are getting into…

>TRY TO DECIPHER THE MAP NOTES!
>GIVE ART’S TEAM ANOTHER CALL!
>TRY TO REACH KIKI AND DENISE!
>HEAD FOR THE EAST–MITZ AND TALBOT MIGHT BE NEAR THAT MOUNTAIN!
>HEAD EAST, BUT HEAD SOUTH AND AROUND THE MOUNTAIN–WHO KNOWS WHAT’S LURKING AROUND THERE?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Sorry for the wait--like I said, work friggin' sucked today and it's left me running ragged. This, unfortunately, will be the first and last update tonight--should have more for ya' TUESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST. Thanks again for being patient and for playing.
>>
>>5261652
>TRY TO DECIPHER THE MAP NOTES!

Better not distract Art and co in case they're in combat
>>
>>5261652
>>TRY TO DECIPHER THE MAP NOTES!
>>
>>5261755
>>5261775
>LINGUISTICS!
ROLL ME 1D100-10: YOU'VE GOT SYB HELPING, BUT THIS IS STAN WE'RE TALKING ABOUT.... I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! Don't forget to write in any interactions or ideas you have for messing with the monolith! I'll write an actual update around the usual time!
>>
Rolled 95 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5262230
Well, that magic prism we have is basically a tiny pyramid and the map has a magic pyramid. Maybe we could steal some magic from it or something with the prism.
>>
Rolled 98 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5262230
And with that >>5262247 roll we have succeeded. Unless I fuck it up next.
>>
>>5262339
And with that roll we have succeeded even more. You will not keep your secrets from us, Bones.
>>
Rolled 33 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5262230

CRITCRITCRITCRITCRITCRITCRIT
>>
>>5262247
>>5262339
>>5262347
>Write quest protag like she has an undiagnosed learning disorder
>Said protagonist effortlessly deciphers an ancient script

I'll get you bastards one of these days... you can't stop me from KILLING ART forever!

>HIGHEST ROLL: 88!
Writing!
>>
File: Spoiler Image (7.84 MB, 640x562)
7.84 MB
7.84 MB GIF
Uneager to pursue the thought further, you shift gears and immediately start tapping on the monolith as if it were your COMPANY-ISSUED BLUEBERRY. To her credit, Syb doesn’t kill you outright.

STAN,” She snarls, prompting Lil’ Stanley to preemptively duck for cover under your hat, “WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

Something about Art? Whatever, you reply, keeping her smoldering form away with a dismissive wave, just sit tight for a sec, will ya? You’re figuring this thing out! Dodging The Goth’s furious attempt to tackle you to the ground, a thought occurs to you–something that doesn’t happen often, mind. Sifting through the volatile menagerie of explosives, ammunition, and miscellaneous odds and ends stuffed in your pockets, your hand quickly returns with your MAGIC-STORING PRISM!

“Well since we’re about ta’ die anyways, I gotta ask:” Ly begins, borrowing your foot to take a few cautious steps away from Syb’s growling form, “What’s wit’ da’ prism?”

Hah! Back in Preschool again, are we? You twirl the prism around a few times before giving Ly an answer–what do prisms and pyramids have in common, hm?

“Erm…” He mutters, frantically lifting your feet up and down to avoid Syb’s swipes, “They’re both three-dimensional-”

EEERNK! WRONG! They’re both shapes, you dork! MAN, you could fill a book with all the stuff he doesn’t know!

Tapping the prism against the monolith, a smile slowly forms on your face as its surface reacts to your rapid pokes! Running the magical doodad along the surface, you watch with glee (while Syb watches in abject horror) as the map is slowly blotted out by countless alien characters! Letting out a long, baleful whine, your pal slumps to the floor in defeat as the monolith chimes in with a sound of its own–one that sounds oddly similar to your PC’s CPU fan!

“Uhhh, Stan?” Ly murmurs as the map’s smooth, black surface glows steadily oranger by the second, “I think we oughta-”

And just like that, the ruins and, by extension, your eyes, are rocked by a blinding flash! YOW!

GAME OVER! Score: 3 out of 500 Points!
RESTORE
RESTART
QUIT
>>
File: kelly.png (7 KB, 773x450)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5262563
After a few healthy minutes of screaming and clutching your eyes in agony, your senses slowly return starting with your hearing. Aside from a mishmash of inarticulate screeching from Ly, Lil’ Stanley, and Syb, you also hear another voice–one that echoes with an otherworldly ring!

PRALGOT?

The deep, alien voice gets your limbs working pretty darn quickly! Scrambling away from the noise, you inadvertently stumble over Sybil’s prone form and topple to the ground in a heap! Damn it, Syb!

The Goth responds by kicking you with one of her knee-high boots! OW! Wincing in fresh pain, you scramble to your feet as the voice repeats its question once again.

PRALGOT?

Yea, yea, you snarl, pralgot! Friggin’ voice... Blinking a few more times, you find yourself staring at a stack of surprisingly humanoid pyramids on the monolith’s surface!

DOBLE. CRESHOLE TAR M-

WHO ARE YOU?!

Pausing at your interruption, the shapes float in place for a few moments before uttering something familiar:

DIALECT RECOGNIZED: CALIFORNIAN. SIMPLE. ADJUSTING LEXILE PARAMETERS.

About damn time! Tapping your foot impatiently, you wait for the shapes to do something while Sybil rises to her shaky feet! “I-It c-can detect our language? Incredible…”

WELCOME, NEW USER.” Greets the shapes in a slightly more-welcoming tone, “IT HAS BEEN-” A series of unhealthy-sounding whirrs and grinding noises emanate from within the monolith, “SINCE THIS TERMINAL HAS BEEN ACCESSED. WARNING–LOW POWER DETECTED. RUNNING IN SAFE MODE. PLEASE CONTACT AN ADMINISTRATOR FOR ASSISTANCE.

“Fascinating…” Sybil whispers as she sidles up next to you, “It’s a construct of some sort, isn’t it? An AI, perhaps?”

I AM…” The monolith groans and clicks like a washing machine, “... KELLY… YOUR TERMINAL ASSISTANT! PLEASE ISSUE A COMMAND.

Before you can inquire further, a list of glowing purple phrases appear on the monolith, each one flickering like a bulb about to short out. Guess that battery’s not long for this world, huh?

WHAT WISH IS KELLY’S COMMAND? PICK TWO AT MOST!
>SYSTEM STATUS
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>USAGE LOGS
>SECURITY SYSTEMS
>BIRTHDAY
>IT’S A SPY! KILL IT!
>OTHER QUERIES (WRITE IN)
>>
>>5262566
>>USAGE LOGS
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>>
>>5262566
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>SECURITY SYSTEMS
>ASK SYB IF THIS MEANS YOU’RE OFF THE HOOK.
>>
>>5262566
>>5262619 +1
>>
Sorry, folks, got carried away with some other stuff while waiting for a consensus--will update WEDNESDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST unless I get some free time in between. Thanks again!
>>
>>5262566
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>USAGE LOGS
>>
>>5262566
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>USAGE LOGS
>>
>>5262616
>>5262619
>>5262913
>>5262979
>>5263491
>USAGE LOGS: 3
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT: 5
>SECURITY SYSTEMS: 2
>SYB, WE GOOD? GOOD WRITE-IN SO WE DOIN' IT

Looks like USAGE LOGS and TRANSPORT win it, as does CHECKING WITH SYB because that's precious! Writing!
>>
File: passwordinc.jpg (53 KB, 1280x720)
53 KB
53 KB JPG
Yea, you mutter as you take a second to stretch your back a bit, one sec, kay? Won’t be a moment! Turning to face your pale faced-pal, you jab a thumb in the direction of the monolith and raise an eyebrow. So uh… are we cool, or?

“Yes…” Syb sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose in silent anguish. “The device is still working and you somehow made it functional–I won’t pretend to understand how you keep doing these things, Stan, but if your antics keep resulting in favorable outcomes, well…” She pauses, looking at you with an expression somewhere between endearment and immeasurable fatigue, “yes. We’re ‘cool’.”

Groovy! That’s that settled, then! Giving your pal a good-natured hug, you turn your attention back to the monolith and clear your throat a few times before issuing your commands!

USAGE LOGS!

… but nothing happens. Repeating your order in a louder, less-patient tone, you’re met with the same response, or lack thereof! What the HELL!?

“Judging from your interactions before, Stan,” Syb suggests, intercepting your foot mere centimeters from kicking the monolith, “I believe it takes commands through a touch screen interface.”

Huh. Well, maybe! Retracting your kick, you raise the PRISM once more and tap the USAGE LOG command!, prompting a swarm of gibberish to burst from Kelly’s chest!

ACCESSING USAGE LOGS…

Hey, it worked! Syb and that SEXY BRAIN of hers– you LOVE it! Giving the girl in question a grateful head pat, you lean in a bit as the jumbled letters slowly form into readable words!

WARNING: DATABANKS CORRUPTED. RECOVERY MODE ACTIVATED.

LOGIN: LAB ADMINISTRATOR: TELEPORTATION LAB A.
LOGIN: LAB ADMINISTRATOR: ADMINISTRATION CONSOLE.
DIAGNOSTIC STARTED: LAB ADMINISTRATOR.
LOGIN: LAB ADMINISTRATOR: MORGUE.
THAW: LAB ADMINISTRATOR: MORGUE.
LOGIN: LAB TECH 223: GENERATOR B.
LOGIN: LAB TECH 434: TOTEM CONTROL BOOTH A.
LOGIN: LAB TECH 775: SPECIMEN STORAGE CONTROL.


The list continues to grow for several minutes as you feel your interest wane–at least at GOOD BOY you were able to read people’s emails and search histor-

“LOOK!”

Heeding Syb’s urgent command, you refocus your, well, focus, and start to notice a pattern in the logs!

LOGIN: LAB TECH 888: DIMENSIONAL LAB R CONTROL.
LOGIN ATTEMPT RECORDED: UNREGISTERED USER.
LOGIN ATTEMPT RECORDED: UNREGISTERED USER.
LOGIN ATTEMPT RECORDED: UNREGISTERED USER…


The attempts continue for several seconds as Syb watches with grim interest. “Curious…” She mutters, “Do you suppose there was an interloper of some kind?”

You respond with a shrug–who can say? If you had a nickel for every time you got too drunk to remember your password, you’d be wearing a GOLDEN SUIT right now!

“Dat’ don’t even sound close ta’ practical…”

>CONTD.
>>
File: lowsig.png (938 B, 200x200)
938 B
938 B PNG
>>5263840
Amidst a sea of logins and commands from other similarly-named ‘LAB TECH’s and other workers, the unidentified logger-inner continues to fruitlessly hack away at the lab systems until…

LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: DIMENSIONAL LAB R CONTROL.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TOTEM CONTROL BOOTH A.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TOTEM CONTROL BOOTH B.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TOTEM CONTROL BOOTH C.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: ADMINISTRATION CONSOLE.
LOGIN ATTEMPT RECORDED: LAB TECH 888.
LOGIN ATTEMPT RECORDED: LAB TECH 888.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TELEPORTATION LAB A.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TELEPORTATION LAB B.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TELEPORTATION LAB C.
LOGIN: UNREGISTERED USER: TELEPORTATION LAB D…


Before you can react, the logs are swept away in a sea of unregistered users!

“Intriguing…” Sybil remarks as the text continues to scroll downwards, “Are we witnessing the sinking of ATLANTIS, or something more recent?”

“Hard ta’ say…” Ly remarks as the monolith begins to heat up from the strain, “Dis’ thing mentioned a recovery mode, yea? It could be from a few days back… or a few years!”

“They mentioned that TOTEM, too–” Replies The Goth as she rubs her chin in thought. “I wonder if-”

Are you the only one who skipped taking their CRAZY PILLS today, or something?! This thing mentioned a TELEPORTER!

“Yes, well-”

Not bothering to let Syb finish or the monolith blow up, you rapidly tap the ’BACK’ button in the top-left corner as the base of the device starts to sputter and grind! Why the hell are you walking around on some crummy seafloor when you could TELEPORT?!

“We’re still not fully-aware of the situation, Stan.” Sybil counters as Kelly regains its geometric form on the rapidly-cooling monolith screen! “Even in the best circumstances, teleportation carries with it a great deal of potential consequenc-”

Slamming the PRISM against the words ‘INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT,’ your eyes light up with glee as the map returns to the screen, but this time with a straight line between you and the MASSIVE PYRAMID far to the east!

… along with a lone, stout bar labeled ‘SIGNAL STRENGTH’ sitting next to five other gray ones. Super…

>CONTD.
>>
File: telebegin.jpg (12 KB, 225x225)
12 KB
12 KB JPG
>>5263844
FACILITY SET TO ‘POWER SAVER’ MODE–INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT SIGNAL DANGEROUSLY LOW.

“See?” Syb asks, raising a pierced eyebrow your way. “Not to mention we still need to reconvene with Mitzi and Talbot-”

TROUBLESHOOTING REQUIRED TO STRENGTHEN SIGNAL. PROCEED TO OUTPOST B.

A square south of the mountain on the map lights up. Guess that’s the place, huh? “CHANCE OF SUCCESSFUL TELEPORTATION FROM A TO B: 55%. FROM A TO LAB: 28%.

“Oof…” Sybil groans, grimacing at Kelly’s prediction, “Not the best odds, Stanley.”

The heck is she talking about? 55’s, like, almost passing, right!? And think about all the BULLSHIT you could dodge! Crossing her arms in indecision, she responds to your question with a noncommittal shrug. “There’s no telling what could happen if things go awry–and what about the others?”

She has a point–Mitzi and Talbot could be talking all kinds of smack about you right now! Still… Skipping all the way to this lab place could save your feet a whole lotta’ aching… At the very least you could see what’s eating this second outpost, right?

POWER LEVELS CRITICAL. ENTERING SLEEP MODE.” Before you can stop them, Kelly’s glowing body fades away along with the rest of the map! Guess that power doodad you found was already on its last legs, huh? Anyways…

What’s the play here?
>TRY TO TELEPORT TO THE LAB!
>TRY TO TELEPORT TO OUTPOST B!
>SCREW IT–TRY TO CONTACT MITZI AND TALBOT!
>CHECK IN WITH ART AND THE MUSEUM CREW!
>SEE IF KIKI AND DENISE HAVE FIGURED ANYTHING OUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5263845
>>TRY TO TELEPORT TO OUTPOST B!
>>
>>5263845
>SCREW IT–TRY TO CONTACT MITZI AND TALBOT!
>>
>>5263845
>SCREW IT–TRY TO CONTACT MITZI AND TALBOT!

Those dorks had better not be messing up our new yacht.
>>
>>5263870
>RUSH B

>>5264088
>>5264590
>CHECK ON THE DORKS... THE BOAT ONES!

Writing! Not on my main computer, so expect some formatting differences.
>>
File: walkie.jpg (17 KB, 612x612)
17 KB
17 KB JPG
Nope, you groan, earning a quizzical look from Syb as you reach into your pocket, you just can’t stop thinking about it!

“About?” She asks, leaning in curiously as your hand returns from its dive carrying the RADIO CHRISTY GAVE YOU! Mitz and TALBOT, who else!? Who knows what kind of shenanigans they’re getting into while you’re mucking about in some old ruins?

“Hopefully nothing too dangerous–Mitzi DID say that PITCHFORK ROCK was somewhat infamous among divers…” The Goth shrugs as you twist the dial on the top of the gizmo. Well whatever they’re getting into, you continue, it’s a good thing you decided to leave a radio with those clowns–you’re not entirely keen on swimming all the way back up to them!

“Pretty sure dat’ was Syb’s idea, cupcake.”

SSSH, you hiss, bringing a finger up to your mouth, you’re on the RADIO! Greeted by an unpleasant amount of static, it takes a few salutations before you hear a faint, if not welcome response.

“-AN! You learned to talk underwater, huh?”

No time for jokes, Mitz, you snarl, you need a STATUS REPORT! ON THE DOUBLE!

“Aye aye, cap.” She replies in her perpetually-chill voice. “The boat got jumped by a few of those freaky fish girls we ran into a while back, but T gave ‘em a warm welcome.”

You can’t help but smile hearing the muffled, yet still triumphant ‘ha HA!’ in the background. Them too, huh?

“Yep… Take it that means you tangled with a few too.”

You did, but she can look that up in the history books… because it’s HISTORY now! THEY’RE history!

“Couldn’t have happened to nicer folks…” Mitz sighs. “Well other than that we’re just off the shore of PITCHFORK ROCK–not really keen on landing, though–the water here is choppier’n Hell.” The Rent-A-Cop pauses for a moment. “Though if mermaids hang out around here, that’d probably explain why so many divers go missing…”

“Yea, their hospitality skills could use a little work.” Ly remarks, earning a nod from Syb. Yea, you snort, and their DODGING skills!

“Well they don’t need skills if they’ve got numbers, boss.” Mitz counters, earning an incredulous grunt from off-radio. “The ROCK’s got more holes in it than Swiss Cheese–and I don’t wanna know what’s gonna crawl out if we stick around here for long, so…” The tomboy’s voice trails off. “What’s the plan? You guys coming back up, or did you find something?”

You relay the last few updates to your boat buds: your run-in with Guppy, the monolith, and, most importantly, the teleporter!

“I mean… 50 Percent’s not bad.” Mitz replies, causing Syb to visibly recoil. That’s what YOU’RE saying!

>CONTD.
>>
File: telewarning.png (46 KB, 300x199)
46 KB
46 KB PNG
>>5264971
“And I’M saying it’s FOOLISH.” Sybil interjects as she leans into the conversation.

“Is that Syb? Hiii!”

“Yes, hi.” Sighs The Goth in a much less enthusiastic tone. “Not to discredit Stanley’s… unorthodox methods or their success rate, but this particular method is of the ‘HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARD’ variety, and-”

“Uh oh.” Interrupts the Rent-A-Cop on the other end as someone stomps over to her. “Don’t tell him I told you, Stan, but T won’t stop talking about how much he MISSES you, an-”

A moment or two of scuffling later, the radio finally goes quiet-ish as Talbot gains control over the radio! “Yea, hey uh… What’s this about a teleporter?”

It says it’ll take you to some LAB, okay? And apparently that might be your destination anyways, so-

“So what’s the holdup?!” Talbot interrupts! “Syb, shoot some, like, voodoo stuff out of the water and we’ll swim down in a sec!”

“Even if I DID want to do that,” Sybil replies in a measured tone, “And I MIGHT, actually, because that’s not a bad way to signal you, there’s also an OUTPOST not too far away either–one that we’ve been told could troubleshoot the connection issues.”

“So?” Talbot grunts. “Let’s teleport THERE, then. THEN teleport to the LAB. BOOM.”

“It DOES sound pretty fun and easy when you put it like that, yea.” Mitzi adds, earning an eye roll from the supposedly ‘logical’ teammate! Suck it, Syb!

“Before I take a much more PASSIVE role in deciding which harebrained scheme to execute from now on,” Sybil huffs, “I’ll also remind you that we’ve found a MAP that leads directly to our destination–if we could avoid the DEMON, we could potentially sidestep this whole teleporter fiasco entirel-”

“Syb, you’re good. I’ll admit it.” Talbot sighs. “You’re tough, kinda, you’re smart, and I can see why Art’d hit it.”

“... ‘Hit it’?” She growls.

“But that DEMON? It’s too much–don’t let your prime drag us all down!”

Sybil blinks at the RADIO a few times, clearly confused. “... Do you mean ‘PRIDE’?”

“Yea, that one.”

“My ‘PRIME’ isn’t the issue here!” She snarls as she angrily snatches the gizmo out of your hands! “And weren’t you the one talking about how keen you were on fighting the DEMON again?”

“W-well, uh…” Stammers your ex-bodyguard.

“...You just want to try the teleporter, don’t you?” Syb groans as a tired expression forms on her face.

“... it’d be pretty neat, yea…”

>CONTD.
>>
File: beware.jpg (37 KB, 474x591)
37 KB
37 KB JPG
>>5264973
The line goes quiet for a moment before Mitzi picks up the reins once more! “Playing Devil’s Advocate here, heading straight for this LAB or whatever might not be a bad move either–they wouldn’t expect us to get past that SEA DEMON, right? Might be a pretty sneaky way in if we can pull it off!”

“‘IF’ being the operative word, yes.” Sybil adds. “And if we move quickly we can do that–I’m certain of it.” The Goth’s features soften a bit as she looks your way. “But Stanley’s choices haven’t steered us the wrong way yet–if she believes that teleporting to this other OUTPOST or even the LAB are the right decisions, well…” She shrugs. “I’ll accept it. But I won’t LIKE it. We’ve had far too many close calls already.”

A snapshot of Art’s dramatic sacrifice pops into your head for a split second.

“Don’t forget OUR close calls, cupcake…” Ly warns, earning a stern nod from Syb. So what? Stupid ideas work all the time! Look at HER! Jabbing your thumb in Lil’ Stanley’s fuzzy face, you earn a low growl for your troubles! This FATTY and the rest of her animal pals do stupid stuff in MeTube vids all the time, but they haven’t gone extinct yet! Explain THAT!

“Flimsy argument, but I’ll allow it.” Sybil huffs. “Keep in mind, Stan, that we can always hike to the OUTPOST… and the others can always run a distraction above in the boat. I can’t promise it’ll be safe, of course, but it should be safER.”

“Yea!” Talbot roars from the other end, “Especially once I’m down there with ya! Don’t like leaving the boat up here alone, but-”

“... See? Totally misses you.” Says Mitz, her smug grin leaking through the radio speaker. After a few more minutes of curses and scuffling, you’re all finally ready to make a judgment call!

WHERE ARE YOU GOIN’?
>HIKE TO OUTPOST B! SAFER, BUT NOT SAFE!
>WARP TO OUTPOST B! ALSO SAFER, BUT ALSO NOT SAFE! ER!
>HIKE TO LAB! IT’S A LONG HAUL WITH THAT SEA DEMON, BUT IT’S STUPID ENOUGH TO WORK, RIGHT?
>WARP TO LAB! FEELIN’ LUCKY?
>CALL UP DENISE AND KIKI FIRST!
>RING ART AND THE GANG FIRST!
>WRITE-IN!

WHO’S GOIN’? CHOOSE 1 OR MORE (PREFERABLY STANLEY)! (EQUIPMENT: 2 SEA CLOAKS, 4 SCUBA GEAR, 1 FISH FORM SPELL)
>SYBIL!
>TALBOT!
>MITZI!
>LIL’ STANLEY (CAN GROUP UP WITH SOMEONE WITH SEA CLOAK!)
>STANLEY!
>WRITE-IN!

SHOULD THE OTHERS THAT AREN’T GOING WITH YOU:
>RUN A DISTRACTION?
>LAY LOW AND KEEP A LOOKOUT?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5264976
>>HIKE TO OUTPOST B! SAFER, BUT NOT SAFE!
>SYBIL!
>LIL’ STANLEY (CAN GROUP UP WITH SOMEONE WITH SEA CLOAK!)

>LAY LOW AND KEEP A LOOKOUT BUT RUN DISTRACTION IF SOMETHING FISHY POPS UP
>>
>>5265100
Dis 'un, boss.
>>
>>5264976
>HIKE TO OUTPOST B! SAFER, BUT NOT SAFE!

>SYBIL!
>LIL’ STANLEY (CAN GROUP UP WITH SOMEONE WITH SEA CLOAK!)
>STANLEY!

LAY LOW AND KEEP A LOOKOUT BUT RUN DISTRACTION IF SOMETHING FISHY POPS UP
>>
>>5265100
>>5264976

Meant to add Stan to my vote.
>>
>>5265100
>>5265207
>>5265268
>>5265839
>SYB, STAN, AND LIL' STANLEY HIKE TO THE OUTPOST!

>TALBOT AND MITZ KEEP AN EYE OUT, BUT ALSO DISTRACT I GUESS OKAY

Writing!

>>5265839
You don't want it to just be Syb and Lil' Stanley doing pic related? Bummer, yo.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (1.38 MB, 1106x731)
1.38 MB
1.38 MB PNG
Hearing the squabble draw to a temporary close, you take the chance to get the attention of both BOAT BUFFOONS. Listen up, you snap, because you’re only gonna say this once: Until you say otherwise, they’re both pulling lookout duty off the shore of the rock!

“Gotcha, boss.” Mitz dutifully replies, just barely talking over an incredulous groan behind her. “We’ll probably move to a more defensible area, but we’ll keep an eye out!”

Good, you nod, not caring if the Rent-A-Cop sees you or not, because you, Syb, and your VICE OFFICER are gonna scope out this OTHER OUTPOST you keep hearing about, and you’re gonna need all the eyes you can get if that damn SEA DEMON’s around!

“My senses tell me that it is.” Sybil adds with an unhappy look on her face. “Far from us, thankfully, but there’s definitely something big down here.”

That’s what HE said! When nobody laughs, you defuse the tension with a few muffled coughs and continue with your planning sesh. Speaking of life, you ask, raising an eyebrow in confusion, were the mermaids the ones she picked up earlier?

“No…” Sybil sighs, clearly disappointed in herself. “But the life sources have only gotten closer, and I fear they might be occupying our destination.” Another frown. “Which is why we REALLY shouldn’t be teleport-”

TSTTSTTTSST, you snap, shoving a finger over The Goth’s flapping gums, you were getting to that! Now, you’re all in agreement that teleporters are COOL, right?

“‘‘Course.”
“HELL YEA, THEY ARE!”
“Sure–they ain’t safe, but…”
“HSSS!” Nods Lil’ Stanley from under your hat!
“... I suppose so.”

Settled! But Syb’s right… kinda. You don’t want to, like, accidentally start a Renaissance Cavalcade, or something!

“What, like in that old FPS?” Asks Talbot’s muffled voice. Duh, idiot! If that game taught you one thing, it’s that teleporters are DANGEROUS!

“... where was all this apprehension two minutes ago?”

It was there, Syb, don’t be a bitch about it. Waving her comment away, you point a finger down the plateau towards a craggy expanse leading into murkier waters. So, you segue, you’ll take a quick hike down to that OUTPOST the robot or whatever was talking about, flip a few switches, and BOOM: working teleporter!

“An acceptable compromise,” Sybil says with a smile forming on her pale face, “and if we tread lightly, we should be able to tackle any hurdle along the way!”

Yea, you shrug as a smile forms on your face as well, what could go wrong?

ROLL 1d100+10 JUST IN CASE! I’LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! Still not on my main rig, so excuse the lack of perty colors.
>>
Rolled 41 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5266547
>>
Rolled 99 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5266547
>>
>>5266774
wew
>>
Rolled 67 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5266547
Telefrag go!
>>
>>5266562
>>5266774
>>5266860
>HIGHEST ROLL: 109!

Golly, that oughta' do it! Sorry for the disappearing act--Friday night and Saturday morning got a little busy. Writing!

>>5266860
>Telefrag
Give it time, anon--wait until you try out that fancy teleporter! :)
>>
File: seatrench.jpg (65 KB, 1600x900)
65 KB
65 KB JPG
And tread lightly you do! Bidding your pals on the surface to keep in touch, you, Syb, and Lil’ Stanley follow what used to be a path deeper into the muck. Despite the lack of maintenance, the trail still proves to be useful: aside from a close encounter with some freaky-looking and very curious feather duster worms, your descent downward goes, for the most part, unhindered.

“Can’t be far now.” Sybil hisses in a hushed tone as she drifts alongside you. “Lots of life ahead, includ-”

Before she can finish, a low, rumbling roar reverberates throughout the water–its origin hidden far ahead beyond the dim outlines of rocky crags in the dark waters ahead. Prying Lil’ Stanley’s white-knuckle’d claws from your head, you take the news about as well as you can given the circumstances. Didn’t we KILL that tentacled bastard?!

“It would seem that bomb Boris and his associates planted didn’t destroy the beast…” Sybil remarks as you continue onward, albeit a little more quietly. “I suppose that’s one reason we haven’t encountered much resistance traveling to this lab… aside from the obvious reasons, of course.”

“Call me paranoid,” Ly remarks as you and Syb duck under a coral growth the size of a tour bus blocking the path, “but I’m thinkin’ we’re in for a surprise or two once we get there. Remember dose’ footprints? And da’ usage logs?”

Yes, you hiss, dipping your head a bit for Lil’ Stanley to sock an aggressive eel in the jaw, you remember, okay? The real question he oughta’ be asking is ‘WHO CARES!?

Startled by your outburst, a school of bioluminescent fish dart away into the darkness around you as the path takes you deeper into the rocks. All you need to worry about, you continue, is taking out that SEA WITCH… if she’s still alive, that is!

“It’d certainly save us a lot of trouble if she wasn’t...” Sybil sighs as she shoos a crab away with one of her boots. “Not that we haven’t already gone through quite a bit of it already.”

As long as that SHITHEEL BORIS didn’t crush her with his massive ego or something, you’ll be happy!

“Haven’t seen dat’ guy for a while, have we?” Ly adds as if remembering a fond memory. “Think they’re goin’ to dat’ GALA or whatever?”

Here’s hoping–That gives you plenty of time to put this bitch on ice! Emboldened by your own words, you nearly trip over yourself as the path gives way to a sheer drop into a massive trench! Stumbling into Syb’s outstretched arms, you give her a nod of thanks before adjusting your hat–that was close!

“Yes…” The Goth replies in a hushed tone, “VERY close.” Following where she’s pointing, your eyes widen when you see it: nestled among another cluster of ATLANTEAN RUINS rests a very familiar and very human invention:

A wrecked SUBMARINE!

>CONTD.
>>
File: sovskull.jpg (190 KB, 750x1000)
190 KB
190 KB JPG
>>5267383
“Holy cow...” Ly whispers, “Is dat’ thing real?!

The dim lights emanating from the sub’s metal skeleton tell you that yes, it is--more importantly, it looks occupied! Scampering off to a nearby cluster of seaweed with Syb close behind, you all peer down through the darkness to get a better lay of the land.

As per usual, Syb’s first up to bat. “It’s a submarine, alright… and it appears to be sitting on our OUTPOST.” Frowning at the submersible, The Goth blows a few bangs out of her face in frustration. “It would appear to be Russian, as well.”

Glancing between her and the wreck, you respond with the usual disbelief in your voice. Really?! How’d she figure that out just by looking?

“Cyrillic.” She whispers, pointing towards a faded series of characters painted on the dorsal section of the hull. “And, erm…”

Before she can finish, the sound of foreign chatter reaches your ears! Following the noise downward, you just barely pick out two humanoid forms wrapped in military garb carrying nasty-looking SPEARGUNS! The real giveaway, however, are the hats–even underwater, both soldiers wear fuzzy caps equipped with earflaps! Good thing, too–you were almost certain these guys were Japanese or something!

Unaware of your snooping, the two soldiers chat idly below in a relaxed tone. After exchanging pleasantries for a moment or so, the two sentries take their leave and resume their patrol around their sub.

“Well,” Syb whispers as you watch the guards go their separate ways, “I suppose our goal is in there somewhere. Gods forbid our plans ever go smoothly.”

You shrug–it’s just SKELETONS, right? When has that ever stopped you?

“Well there WAS dat’ one time we almost got whacked in dat’ mine…”

Shut up, Ly–that one didn’t count! Turning your attention back towards the sub, you notice two obvious entrances: a LARGE HOLE IN THE FRONT and the HATCH UP TOP! While the latter is shut tight, you can just barely make out a few shapes inside the former–no doubt there’s a few guards in there too.

“OOH! Over there!”

Startled by Ly’s enthusiasm, a sharp pain shoots through your neck as he swivels your head towards the back of the sub! “Ya’ see it?”

You wouldn’t have if he didn’t mention it! Near the back of the sub is a small CAVE ENTRANCE hidden by a cluster of low-hanging coral! If you could find a way over, it’d probably deposit you right near the back of the sub!

“Yes…” Sybil nods with a twinkle in her eye, “And none would be the wiser!”

>CONTD.
>>
File: wreckedsub.jpg (117 KB, 1360x765)
117 KB
117 KB JPG
>>5267385
As the idea sinks in, her face adopts a more serious expression. “Which is how we should keep it, I think. Historically-speaking, these submarines weren’t meant to be trifled with.”

You blink in confusion. Clearly you were asleep during your ‘Intro to Submarines’ class in High School–what’s so scary about them anyways? It’s not like you’re gonna DROWN down here!

“Well I might be wrong, Stanley,” Sybil sighs, “But some of them were known to carry SLBMs.

… yea, you’re not really into K-Pop.

Missiles, Stan. NUCLEAR.

Ah. That’s a bit scarier, yea.

“I’m not certain, of course.” Sybil shrugs as her voice takes a more relaxed tone. “And as malicious as our foes are, they’d have to be a special brand of insane to even consider deploying one of those inside a MAGICAL BARRIER!

The two of you share a quiet laugh before the conversation goes eerily quiet.

“Erm…” She continues, “Are we still set on this plan?”

If you want to strengthen that teleporter signal, then yea–these are the ruins, alright, and if you have to infiltrate a Russian Sub to fix things, well…

Best get busy, right?

WHAT’S THE INFILTRATION PLAN? CHOOSE 1 OR MORE WITHIN REASON!
>HEAD IN THROUGH THE FRONT HOLE!
>LOOP AROUND TOWARDS THE TOP HATCH!
>TRY TO FIND THE CAVE LEADING TO THE BACK!
>HAVE MITZ AND TALBOT CAUSE A DISTRACTION ABOVE!
>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS SOMEONE! WARNING: YOUR BONES DON’T SPEAK RUSSIAN!
>SEND LIL’ STANLEY IN WITH A SEA CLOAK–MIGHT BE A USEFUL DISTRACTION?
>DISTRACT WITH YOUR REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5267387
>DISTRACT WITH YOUR REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!

Goddamn Pinkos. Let’s draw some of them out with a distraction and try to slip inside.
>>
>>5267387
>DISTRACT WITH YOUR REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK!
>>
>>5267629
>>5267632
>DUCK AND COVER!
Ever see a flying remote-controlled duck swim? You're about to, hopefully!

ROLL 1d100-5 TO CREATE A 'QUACK' IN THEIR DEFENSES! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

If you have specific tactics or ideas in mind, WRITE-EM IN, otherwise I'm gonna assume that you just want to draw the sentries away and NOT attack them!

For any newcomers in here, the REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK HAS A FLASHBANG ATTACK--good for blinding and distracting, but not so much taking down Sub Soldiers!
>>
Rolled 88 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5267764
>>
Rolled 25 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5267764
They shall come to fear the name of the semi-aquatic avian.
>>
Rolled 84 - 5 (1d100 - 5)

>>5267764
>>
>>5267779
>>5267871
>>5267881
>HIGHEST ROLL: 83!

Writing!
>>
File: duckonline.png (162 KB, 800x600)
162 KB
162 KB PNG
Weighing your options from the safety of the seaweed, a weary, drawn-out sigh escapes your lips as a frown forms on your face. Russians, you hiss under your breath, of course it’d be Russians. Your uncle warned you about these Commie bastards, you know!

“Yes, he was quite vocal about them.” Sybil groans, clearly looking for a path to any other topic. “We could attempt a distraction, of course, but who knows how they’ll react to seeing one of us down here?”

A distraction… seeing… one of us… of COURSE! Syb’s a GENIUS! Giving The Goth a firm slap on the rump (a gesture that would, were you anyone else, result in you being immolated on the spot), you wink as you reach deep into your pockets for the cornerstone of yet ANOTHER QUALITY STAN IDEA! Sure, you add as Syb looks at you with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, they might go koo-koo at the sight of a RED-BLOODED AMERICAN, but they’ll be properly perplexed if they see one of these babies floating past!

Triumphantly returning from its dive into your pockets, your hand holds aloft one of the most invaluable tools you’ve picked up since you began your BONES QUEST: THE REMOTE-CONTROLLED DUCK! Carefully placing it onto the ground and taking the REMOTE CONTROL in hand, you frown a bit as the screen starts up with another LOW BATTERY warning! Stupid machine!

“Hate ta’ take da’ wind outta’ yer’ sails, cupcake,” Ly begins as Lil’ Stanley pounces on your ace in the hole, “but a duck’s gonna look real outta’ place down here.”

The hell’s he talking about, you snarl, juggling the controller in one hand and peeling your rabid pet off the duck with the other! It’s a duck! The plan’s… ngh… fullproof!

“Why?” Ask your bones as they pop into their ASTRAL FORM just to stare at you disapprovingly. Well, you grunt, trying and failing to keep the squirming raccoon in your hand from gnawing your limbs off, Russians hate America, right? They’re jealous of our freedom!

“Sure.” Ly shrugs, clearly eager to see where this goes. “What’s dat’ gotta do wit’ da’ duck?”

Has he been outside lately?! Prying Lil’ Stanley’s jaws off of your forearm, you just barely manage to keep the beast at bay with your rubber-booted foot! Ducks, you explain, aren’t American! They all live in Canada, CanaDUH!

“... Alright, we really gotta get you outside more.” Ly sighs as Syb impatiently taps her foot on the rock. HE needs to get out more! Has he ever even seen a duck? HUH!?

>CONTD.
>>
File: skelushanka.jpg (32 KB, 600x600)
32 KB
32 KB JPG
>>5268007
“Okay, Stan…” Syb hisses in your ear, “Remember to keep a high altitude–we want them to be confused, not alarmed, yes?”

You send a muffled ‘mhm’ from behind The Goth’s hand currently covering your mouth. Piloting the duck as best you can in a chokehold, you make a mental note to watch a few vids on escaping wrestling holds once this all blows over–Syb’s way too good at them.

As the duck’s eyes come to life with an eerie red glow, you nearly press the ‘QUACK’ button when you recall what happened in the lab–that one sticks, you mutter. Close call!

“Here goes somethin’...” Ly mutters as the waterfowl takes to the, well, water! Sputtering off in a burst of bubbles, the duck behaves about as well as it did in the air save for a slightly slower pace! Holding the controller close to your chest to keep it dry, you direct the remote-controlled raptor down towards the sub!
https://youtu.be/ghSFOnFd4aw
One of the guards below you is the first to notice something awry. Though it takes him a few moments to register, the soldier makes up for it by dramatically pointing his finger at the duck!

VON TAM!” The cry barely leaves his lips (or lack thereof) before a whole host of thick-coated RuSKELS charge out from the open nose of the sub! Diving behind whatever cover they can find, you give them all a little scare by dive bombing their positions a bit–enough so that some of the poor bastards open fire!

Without working firearms, the skeletons instead rely on massive quivers slung over their shoulders–the bags filled to the brim with what appear to be SERRATED HARPOONS! Loading and firing in rapid succession, the soldiers nearly get over their fear and even start slinging a few taunts around–until, that is, you press THE RED BUTTON!

With a menacing QUACK, your duck flashes with a blinding light–one that sends the troopers stumbling to the ground in surprise! Sailing above a chorus of the word ‘BLYAT’, you do a cheeky roll with the duck before sending it off into the shadows surrounding the sub! Following in hot pursuit, the soldiers charge off to defeat the enemy of the state, but not before one soldier turns and makes his way back into the sub. Damn it!

“It’s fine, Stan–one is better than a dozen.” Sybil whispers as she releases you from the chokehold. “If we act now we can be in and out before they return!”

Coughing and sputtering from a fresh supply of air, you give your pal a weak thumb’s up–yea, you croak, you’re workin’ on it! Switching off the control and making a note to pilot the duck back later, you ponder your next move now that the bulk of the outer guard is preoccupied.

>CONTD.
>>
File: teethgals.png (396 KB, 770x500)
396 KB
396 KB PNG
>>5268011
WHAT’S THE PLAN, STAN?

>HEAD IN THROUGH THE HOLE! IT’S THE MOST OBVIOUS, SURE, BUT IT’S WHERE THAT OTHER GUY WENT!
>SNEAK IN THROUGH THE TOP! YOU CAN GET A STUPID HATCH OPEN!
>CIRCLE AROUND THE BACK WHERE THE CAVE WAS–MAYBE THERE’S A SNEAKY WAY IN?
>SIDLE UP CLOSE AND HAVE LY SCOUT! MAYBE HE CAN POSSESS SOMEONE!
>WRITE-IN!

By the way--Bathic of the illustrious and very interesting DROWNED QUEST REDUX whipped up some art--this one showing off some of /qst/'s TEETHriffic gals from REPTILIAN INFILTRATOR, MUTANT!, BONES, AND DROWNED QUEST REDUX! Go check 'em all out if you haven't yet--Infiltrator just wrapped up and is ready for you in the archives!
>>
>>5268029
>>HEAD IN THROUGH THE HOLE! IT’S THE MOST OBVIOUS, SURE, BUT IT’S WHERE THAT OTHER GUY WENT!
>>
>>5268029
>HEAD IN THROUGH THE HOLE! IT’S THE MOST OBVIOUS, SURE, BUT IT’S WHERE THAT OTHER GUY WENT!
Quickest way in. We need to be fast before the other cyкa come back. Besides, we can handle one mf.
>>
>>5268029
>HEAD IN THROUGH THE HOLE! IT’S THE MOST OBVIOUS, SURE, BUT IT’S WHERE THAT OTHER GUY WENT!
>>
>>5268101
>>5268111
>>5268182
>HEAD FOR THE HOLE!

The straightforward approach--I love it! Writing the last update of the night!
>>
Syb’s right–no sense beating around the bush when there’s just one dork left! Motioning for her to follow, you lead the charge down the slope towards the RUINS/SUB COMBO!

Scurrying across the sand, you can still hear the sentries chasing after your distraction. Good, you say to no one in particular, talk about a ‘Wild Goose Chase’, huh?

“Close to it, yes.” Sybil grins. “Careful now, Stan–there might be more of them onboar-”

Not enough, you reply with a grim laugh! Not enough! Sidling up against the hull breach transformed into a gate, you wait for Ly to peek around the corner for you before proceeding.

“Clear.” He reports, prompting you to scamper inside! “But I haven’t checked th-”

What part of not enough did he not get?! Squeezing past a warped bulkhead, you trade the dark, rocky exterior for a dark, metallic interior–its cramped corridors barely lit by a… skeleton crew of pulsing red emergency lights!

Yep, you’d say there’s been an emergency, alright.

“Focus!” Sybil hisses, prompting you to look alive! Good thing, too–you’re barely past an array of weird, humming mechanical doodads when you hear a series of frantic phrases up ahead of you–no doubt the WUSS who ran off instead of following his pals!

Your answer comes in the form of boots scrambling down a metal catwalk! Tackling Syb into a recess between two of the aforementioned humming machines, you unceremoniously stuff Lil’ Stanley under your hat just as two very COMMUNIST-LOOKING SKELETONS dart past your hiding place with their weapons drawn! Hah, you whisper, the idiots didn’t even notice you!

“Let’s keep it that way, hm?” Sybil requests as she gently pushes you off of her body. “Since we’ve stopped, however…” The Goth closes her eyes before you can stop her and immediately frowns. “Be on guard, Stanley–we aren’t alone.”
You respond with a frown. No duh, you reply-you’ve got Ly and THIS FATTY with you! Poking at your pet’s hat-obscured form, you get a nip for your troubles as Sybil watches with mild disinterest.

“I meant SKELETONS. There’s more.”

Oh… bummer!

>CONTD.
>>
File: nukesub.png (940 KB, 790x597)
940 KB
940 KB PNG
>>5268215
“The CONTROL ROOM is close by.” Sybil explains as the two of you emerge from your hiding spot and continue along a barnacle-covered catwalk. “And it’s operational, from the sound of things.”

As if on cue, you can’t help but feel a slight tingle in the water around you–that and an almost pleasant warmth. It’s kinda nice!

“It’s probably radiation, Stan. It’s not nice.” Sybil hisses, clearly not appreciating all the cool memories you guys are making together on this journey. “We’d better hope these cloaks protect us… I don’t plan on turning GREEN any time soon.”

Yea, you mutter, mulling over the prospect of GREEN SYBIL in your head, it doesn’t really fit her, does it? Coming to a rusted ladder, you’re also met with a faded sign covered with various COMMIE SLOGANS!

“Nope–it’s directions.” Jumping at the voice, you breathe a sigh of relief when it just turns out to be your friendly GLOWING SKELETON!

CONTROL ROOM’S dat’a way.” He reports, jabbing a spectral phalange down the corridor to your right. “Looks like all da’ equipment’s workin’, too, so dat’s not great. An’ there’s a bunch of ‘boneheads in there–even a BIGWIG wit’ a big hat an’ all!”

Bigwigs, you hiss, shaking your fist angrily at your side, there’s always a Bigwig, isn’t there?

“That is how a chain of command works, yes.” Sybil shrugs. “What else did you find, Ly?”

“Lots!” He chirps, proudly puffing out his ribcage! “Ya’ head that’a way an’ you’ll get to da’ REACTORS. They got a few guys down there, but dat’ ain’t da’ important bit–I think I saw a passage ta’ da’ RUIN in there, too!”

“Good.” Sybil says, smiling at both of you, “That’s our target, then.”

“One more thing…” The skeleton adds, nervously twiddling his thumb bones together, “If ya’ head UP,” he continues, pointing up the ladder, “Ya get to, uh, some kinda’ ESCAPE POD.

“Escape pod?” Sybil asks, sharing a confused look with you. “I didn’t know these submarines had those…”

“Well it looked like one!” Your skeleton replies with a shrug! “But there’s only one--might not be a bad way ta’ cover some ground, yea?”

“That remains to be seen.” Sybil frowns. “Where did you say it was, again?”

“Ah, right, I fergot.” Ly mumbles under his breath. “It’s, uh, it’s past da’ MISSILES. Ones wit’ a whole lotta’ RADIATION SYMBOLS on ‘em.”

So wait, they’re just leaving those lying around?

“Don’t even think of it, Stan.” Scolds Syb. “I’ll admit your schemes have borne quite a bit of fruit recently, but we’re not meddling with NUCLEAR WEAPONS.

Heh, not YET!

>CONTD.
>>
File: suuuuuuubs.png (1.39 MB, 951x711)
1.39 MB
1.39 MB PNG
>>5268219
Syb looks like she’s about to punch you and Stanley won’t stop biting your hair, so you decide to clear the air by deciding on where to go next. Chop-chop–apparently these idiots power subs with NUCLEAR CRAP now. Idiots!

WHERE TO FIRST?
>THE CONTROL ROOM! YOU WANNA CHECK OUT THOSE CONTROL CONSOLES!
>THE ENGINE ROOM! THE SOONER YOU TROUBLESHOOT THAT MONOLITH, THE BETTER!
>THE SILOS! YOU JUST WANNA SEE THAT ESCAPE POD, HONEST!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight--got plans early in the day, so expect more updates around SUNDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST! Thanks again as always for playing!
>>
>>5268222
>THE ENGINE ROOM! THE SOONER YOU TROUBLESHOOT THAT MONOLITH, THE BETTER!
>>
>>5268222
>THE ENGINE ROOM! THE SOONER YOU TROUBLESHOOT THAT MONOLITH, THE BETTER!
>>
>>5268779
>>5268804
>FULL SPEED AHEAD TO THE ENGINE ROOM!

ROLL ME 1d100+5 TO SEE IF YOU RUN INTO ANYONE ON THE WAY OVER--I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 26 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5268992
rollan
>>
Rolled 24 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5268992
Imagine Mitzi and Talbot are just chilling on the boat and they see an enormous mushroom cloud erupt from the waves.
>>
Rolled 51 + 5 (1d100 + 5)

>>5268992

>>5268998
>>5268999
YOU GUYS SUCK
>>
>>5268998
>>5268999
>>5269163
>HIGHEST ROLL: 56!

Going to have to write this update MONDAY AROUND 4-5PM, all, today got a little busy. Thanks for playing, though, and hope to see you next update!
>>
File: engineroomsub.jpg (96 KB, 600x900)
96 KB
96 KB JPG
The monolith’s the key here–fix that thing up and you’ll be on your way to greener and more SEA WITCH-laden pastures! Plus you kinda like the warm, tingly feeling of the water leading to the ENGINES, not that you’d tell Syb or Ly, of course!

“You just did.” Sybil groans as she massages the bridge of her nose in irritation. “It can’t be helped, though–that teleporter’s our best way into the LAB, so…”

So, you interrupt, let’s get going! Scampering down a barnacle-laced catwalk, you lead the way downwards into the belly of the nuclear-powered beast per Ly’s instructions! It’s smooth sailing for the most part, but as the water around you grows warmer and tinglier, you find yourself amidst a maze of pipes, bulbous machines, and a jungle of faded warning signs!

Oh, and GUARDS.

Ducking into a nearby corner as one of said sentries rounds the corner of a particularly large gizmo, you and your pals watch as the skeleton idly retrieves a soaked pack of cigarettes from under his hat and moves to stick a smoke in his mouth.

... Ah. Blyat.

Watching the bubbles rise from his mouth to the engine room’s low ceiling, the sentry begrudgingly stuffs the smokes back into his pocket and resumes his patrol. Angrily muttering to himself as he departs, you take a moment to study his movements before coming to a stunning realization:

This guy’s just walking in CIRCLES!

“Just like those guards in that game you enjoy…” Sybil quietly remarks as she watches with interest. “Frigid Blades, was it?”

“Yea, da’ one wit’ da’ hero who wears dat’ skintight suit!” Ly confirms unnecessarily. Yea, you mumble, hiding your reddening cheeks from Syb, that’s uh… that’s the one, alright.

“Well, erm,” The Goth continues, still off-guard from Ly’s intel, “This should be a cinch then, yes?”

Should be! You did do a GHOST RUN out of the doggie bone factory–this is kid’s stuff in comparison! Carefully slinking around the corner, it isn’t long before you come across another hull breach–this one leading into what appears to be another RUINED OUTPOST!

Eager to get things fixed up, you’re halfway through the breach when you feel a hand yank your shoulder from behind… just as you feel a searing pain graze your cheek!

WAIT!” Sybil hisses, pulling you back as a pitiable whine escapes your lips, “Look!”

Clasping your hand to your cheek, you follow Syb’s finger and find yourself staring at a mess of open pipes venting a faintly-glowing stream of bubbling water in your way! Littered with VALVES and DIALS of all shapes and sizes, you couldn’t say which one controls them all, but you know one thing for certain–there’s a lot of readouts in the RED!

>CONTD.
>>
File: smokegauge.jpg (10 KB, 183x275)
10 KB
10 KB JPG
>>5269435
STEAM, you hiss, teeth still clenched from your close call, we meet again, you sonnovabitch…

Before you can exact your revenge on the pipes, you hear a faint “Shto?” From the maze of machinery behind you–that ain’t good!

“We can’t risk being found yet, Stan–let’s hide!” Tugging on your shoulder, Syb gives you an expectant look as Lil’ Stanley contemplates jumping ship as well! Hold on a sec, here…

WHAT’S THE PLAN?
>ARMOR UP AND SPRINT THROUGH–IT’S JUST GLOWING, SLIGHTLY-TINGLY STEAM! SYB CAN BLINK THROUGH IT, TOO!
>TURN SOME VALVES–YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT IF YOU’RE QUICK!
>HIDE–MAYBE THE GUARD WILL CLUE YOU IN ON HOW TO GET THROUGH!
>HAVE LY TRY TO POSSESS THE GUY–HE CAN’T SPEAK RUSSIAN, BUT THE SKELETONS DON’T SEEM TO MIND WHATEVER’S PUMPING OUT OF THESE PIPES!
>NO TIME FOR SUBTLETY! HAVE SYB FLASH-FREEZE THE PIPES–YOU CAN CARVE THROUGH WITH BONE CLAWS!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5269439
>HIDE–MAYBE THE GUARD WILL CLUE YOU IN ON HOW TO GET THROUGH!
That's a standard game puzzle trope.
>>
>>5269439
>ARMOR UP AND SPRINT THROUGH–IT’S JUST GLOWING, SLIGHTLY-TINGLY STEAM! SYB CAN BLINK THROUGH IT, TOO!

>>5269580
Wouldn’t he just walk through it given he’s a skeleton?
>>
>>5269439

>>ARMOR UP AND SPRINT THROUGH–IT’S JUST GLOWING, SLIGHTLY-TINGLY STEAM! SYB CAN BLINK THROUGH IT, TOO!
>>
>>5269439
>ARMOR UP AND SPRINT THROUGH–IT’S JUST GLOWING, SLIGHTLY-TINGLY STEAM! SYB CAN BLINK THROUGH IT, TOO!
>>
>>5269580
>HIDE AND PEEK!

>>5270045
>>5270287
>>5270293
>DON'T BE A WUSS--IT'S JUST STEAM, OR SOMETHING!

And here it is, folks, the moment you've probably been waiting for: ROLL ME 1d100+10: +5 FOR BUNNY SUIT, +5 FOR SEA LEGS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 56 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5270531
>>
Rolled 20 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5270531
>>
Rolled 99 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5270531
>>
>>5270545
>>5270563
>>5270566
>HIGHEST ROLL: 109

Jesus CHRIST, you guys, save some for the bad guys! Writing!
>>
File: undercorridor.png (257 KB, 685x494)
257 KB
257 KB PNG
No time to lose–you’re dealing with STEAM here, not RADIOACTIVE WASTE!

“Yea, well-”

No TIME, Ly! Encasing yourself in your handy-dandy BONE ARMOR, (and thoroughly terrifying Lil’ Stanley in the process), you motion for Syb to zip through–you’ll meet her on the other side!

“Hey-”

Hey’s for HORSES! Charging through the bubbling barrier like a rhino in a fishtank, you’re immediately buffeted by several jets of boiling water! Though the heat stings and burns your flesh beneath, it’s nothing compared to the DEATH GRIP your raccoon has on your head! Just when she’s about to tear your scalp off, you’re through, and your momentum takes you far past the barrier and all the way down a long, slanted passage!

And then some! Mind helping slow us down, Ly?!

“Errr, about dat’...” Your skeleton replies as you feel the gravity provided by your SEA CLOAK take hold over your movement, “Ya’ might wanna tuck an’ roll, kid…”

You don’t really get a choice. Losing your footing on the increasingly-steep grade, you, Ly, and Lil’ Stanley tumble head-over armored heels downwards into the ruins, bumping along the barnacles and coral like a very confused marble! You probably roll for a minute or so before landing in a heap on a spongy substance… directly in front of a familiar-looking MONOLITH! Neato!

“Nicely done, Stanley.” Sybil remarks as she blinks into existence behind you. “What you lack in finesse you make up for in results–this must be the next monolith!”

Dis-armoring in front of the smooth, black stone, you give your pal a wry glance as Lil’ Stanley trembles in near-catatonia under your cap. What gave her that idea, huh? Reaching for your MAGIC PRISM, the monolith flickers to life before you can even touch it!

PRIVET, TOV- OH, APOLOGIES. I ASSUMED YOU WERE SOMEONE ELSE.

A cloud of glowing purple shapes coalesces into KELLY’S shapely form in the center of the monolith. “IT’S SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, USER.

Yes, you nod, it IS good to see you, isn’t it? Giving Syb a cheeky wink, you turn your attention back to the virtual being. So, you huff, what’s this about troubleshooting?

>CONTD.
>>
File: areyousure.png (2 KB, 238x148)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
>>5270685
ARE YOU REFERRING TO THE TELEPORTER SIGNAL?” It asks, cocking its cube-shaped head to the side. “YES, I CAN ASSIST YOU WITH THAT. ALL I REQUIRE IS VERBAL CONFIRMATION TO CONDUCT SOME MINOR ADJUSTMENTS.

Heyyyy, that’s what you’re talkin’ about! Well come on then, you chuckle, confirm away!

PROCESSING.” It nods as it begins humming an unfamiliar tune to itself. Tapping your foot to the beat, you turn your attention to Syb and raise an eyebrow–you uh, you weren’t followed, right?

“I don’t believe so, no.” She shrugs, prompting Ly to do a quick ASTRAL CHECK. When your skeleton drifts back shaking his head, you allow yourself a small fistpump–all according to plan!

NEARLY THERE.

Well hurry up–you’re not keen on being captured and force fed borscht!

The monolith glows a bright lavender for a moment as the virtual helper heeds your request. Illuminating the room with its glow, you can’t help but notice some primitive cables running from the battery case of the monolith and up the slope you rolled down–who the hell put those there?

“They do seem newer than our surroundings, yes…” Remarks Sybil as she notices what you’re looking at. “You don’t think-”

TASK COMPLETED.” Reports Kelly in a chipper, if not somewhat robotic, tone! “OUTPOST POWER IS CURRENTLY DIVERTED TO-KRRZZK! VVHR!-UNDEFINED SYSTEMS!

Wincing at the crunching noises emanating from the monolith, you end up locking eyes with a very concerned-looking Syb. What’s eating you?

“Stanley,” She begins, clearly talking mid-thought, “Doesn’t it seem peculiar that a Russian Nuclear Sub would still be operational after all this time? In this condition?”

You respond with a nod–it’s a wonder it works at all–all the Kremlin’s COMMIES combined couldn’t hope to match good ole’ AMERICAN ELBOW GREASE!

“Sure. Anyways, I think we’ve determined what’s keeping this sub ‘afloat’, in a manner of speaking.”

REDIRECTING POWER WILL RAISE TELEPORTER SIGNAL STRENGTH AS FOLLOWS: TELEPORTATION TO OUTPOST A: 88% STRENGTH. TELEPORTATION TO LAB: 60%.” Kelly pauses between calculations before giving you one more bit of info.

WARNING: REDIRECTION OF POWER FROM-GRRRRNK!ZZZZZRRRZZK!-UNDEFINED SYSTEMS MAY RESULT IN UNEXPECTED CONSEQUENCES. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

“Agreed…” Sybil nods, “Who knows what’s wired up to this terminal?”

Those people upstairs, probably!

>CONTD.
>>
File: abe.gif (971 KB, 400x250)
971 KB
971 KB GIF
>>5270687
You dunno, you say with an agitated sigh, but you do know this: when ABRAHAM LINCOLN kicked the crap outta’ that assassin JOHN WICKS BOOTS and won the CIVIL WAR, he wasn’t worried about CAUTION, okay!?

“Okay, bu-”

OKAY!?

“... Alright.” Sybil shrugs, clearly starting to know better. “Just say the word, Stanley.”

Oh you WILL!

WHAT’S THE MOVE HERE?

>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO THE LAB!
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>DIVERT POWER… BUT GIVE US A BIT OF TIME TO GET SOME DISTANCE, FIRST! JUST IN CASE!
>DON’T DIVERT POWER–JUST TELEPORT US TO THE LAB!
>DON’T DIVERT–TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>YOU’VE GOT SOME QUERIES FIRST! HOLD YOUR HORSES!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
Oof. That's the first and last update tonight--can barely put a post together without having to delete and edit. I'll check in TUESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST and post then, probably--sorry again for the wait.
>>
>>5270691
>YOU’VE GOT SOME QUERIES FIRST! HOLD YOUR HORSES!
>>
>>5270861
>QUICK QUERIES!

Writing!
>>
File: flag.gif (1017 KB, 480x269)
1017 KB
1017 KB GIF
>>5271667
Bracing yourself to say the aforementioned ‘word’, you find yourself hesitating a bit as you feel Syb’s, Ly’s, Lil’ Stanley’s, and Kelly’s eyes all bore into you expectantly.

USER?

“Anybody home, kiddo?”

“Stanley?”

*Munch, munch…*

Where the hell does this chunker keep finding bags of chips?! Snatching a handful from the open bag held in your raccoon’s claws, you stuff your cheeks full of MINT AND KETCHUP CHIPS to give you a bit more prep time!

Hey, these aren’t that bad!

IF YOU REQUIRE MORE TIME, USER, YOU CAN ROUSE ME FROM SLEEP MODE WH-

NoNOno, you sputter, sending chip fragments all over the priceless archaeological discovery, you uh… you were just thinking…

“... Oh?” Syb asks, turning your way with mock shock on her face, “What about the word, Stanley?”

Yea, uh, you mutter as you sheepishly scratch the back of your head, it’s uh…

Okay, look: you actually wanted to get some more info, but you got really fired up by AMERICA and all that Lincoln stuff and kinda doubled-down on making a decision. You love this country, okay? You love this country.

OKAY, WELL-

So, you interject, any chance you can do, like, a mulligator or whatever that do-over thing is? You wanna check out this outpost’s other features before messing with anything!

BUT OF COURSE! PROCESSING.

As the virtual intelligence resumes her humming, you turn towards Syb and give her an apologetic grin. Heh heh… that was, uh, that was a wild ride you went on, wasn’t it?

Regarding you with a stone faced expression, The Goth breaks the tension by trotting over to you and giving your head a good pat.

“I’m not mad, Stanley–I’m proud. It’s not easy admitting to a mistake.”

Yea, you reply, grinning like an idiot as she continues to pat your head, but you didn’t make a mistake, real-ow! OW! OW!

“I’m. PROUD. OF. YOU.” Sybil repeats, forcefully bringing her open palm down onto your head with each syllable! You’re just about to retaliate when Kelly fades back into existence along with a few glowing topics to choose from.

WARNING: THIS OUTPOST HAS SUSTAINED CRITICAL DAMAGES–DATA AND FUNCTIONS PARTIALLY CORRUPTED. PLEASE SELECT AN OPTION FROM THE FOLLOWING LIST:

CHOOSE 1 OR MORE:
>SYSTEM STATUS
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>RECENT OBSERVATION LOGS
>SECURITY SYSTEMS
>BIRTHDAY
>OTHER QUERIES (WRITE-IN!)
>NEVERMIND--LET'S FIX THAT DAMN SIGNAL!
>>
>>5271684
>>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>>RECENT OBSERVATION LOGS
>>SECURITY SYSTEMS
>>
>>5271688
This.
>>
>>5271688
>>5271729
>INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT
>RECENT OBSERVATION LOGS
>SECURITY SYSTEMS

Writing!
>>
File: audiologs.jpg (6 KB, 315x160)
6 KB
6 KB JPG
You start by tapping your PRISM against the words spelling out-

INTERFACILITY TRANSPORT. PROCESSING.

Huh. You thought that spelled… you know what? Never mind–this works too! Just like the last outpost, a line is drawn from your position to both OUTPOST A and the colossal pyramid shape to the EAST. UNlike the last monolith, however, this outpost seems to have a few more bars in SIGNAL STRENGTH!

SIGNAL STRENGTH UNSTABLE–TROUBLESHOOTING RECOMMENDED. CHANCE OF SUCCESSFUL TELEPORTATION FROM B TO A: 54%. FROM B TO LAB: 40%.
“It’s not much…” Sybil mutters to herself, “But our other choices aren’t too enticing either…”

Just once… just once would it kill them to, like, roll out the red carpet for you or something? ROCKY kinda did that!

“He also attempted to trick and kill us.”

Yea, but at least it was easy to get to that trap! Jot down those numbers, would ya? You have a few other bones to pick with this thing! As Sybil dutifully pulls out her phone and starts typing, you tap the next option in the list…

RECENT OBSERVATION LOGS.

Yea, that one!

DATA CORRUPTED. RECOVERING DATA FRAGMENTS… TRANSLATING…

TODAY, please!

After a few awkward moments of whirring and crunches later, an unfamiliar accented voice emerges from the monolith.

-s recording? Ugh, capricious machines… Observation logKRRRZZZSHTSST!-y order of High Scholar Tenateah. Lay Observer Hakned reporting. Ahem…

Stomping over to the monolith, you jab an accusatory finger onto its screen! WHO ARE YOU!?

Despite the… less than ideal reasons behind our sudden departure, the Lab and the majority of loyal research and maintenance staff arrived relatively unharmed.

Wrong answer, dick! Winding up for a punch, you feel an invisible force grab your hand!

“It’s a recordin’, cupcake. Cool yer’ jets.”

Wait, really?

The surrounding ocean is less than ideal resource-wise, but preliminary scans and drone probing suggest things aren’t as bleak as they appear. The atmospheric pressure acts as a natural barrier from the locals… not that they’re much of a threat, of course.

“Locals…” Sybil muses as she looks your way, “Are they referring to us?”

You respond with a shrug–with all the shit you’ve seen in the last few threads, you wouldn’t be surprised if they were talking about BIGFOOT at this point!

Surface dwellers. Bipedal. Hairy, lactating primitives barely able to start a fire. Myself and the rest of the survey team agree that they shouldn’t cause much trouble–after all, how much can they advance in a few years? End log.

Heh, you snicker, sharing a cheeky grin with Syb, they have no idea, do they?

>CONTD.
>>
File: telefail.png (6 KB, 330x153)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
>>5271898
“Jokes aside, Stanley,” Sybil giggles, “This would imply these… Atlanteans have been here for quite some time… but where exactly did they come from, hm? That’s the question.”

You’ll be sure to grab the next bonehead you find and ask ‘em, you huff. Lord knows these morons like to blab.

Speaking of, the monolith sputters to life once more with another log… one from the same person, too!

Moronic fools!

Hey! Watch it, pal!

Hakned reporting–more for insurance than anything else… Those damned savages are attacking our facility DAILY now… the few we’ve managed to interrogate suggest some sort of ‘DEEP MOTHER’ has declared war on us. I’d almost find it cute if they weren’t so damn ANNOYING.

You hear something slam against the stone. A fist?

They don’t sleep. They don’t appear to possess anything resembling self-preservation instincts, and there’s so damn MANY of them… like the Tszookoo swarms back home… But that’s not all.

You and Syb exchange worried glances. There’s MORE?

There’s more. Between the savage attacks and constant complaints among the staff about ‘GREEN DREAMS,’ Orderly Dreemka brought an unwelcome revelation to last night’s council meeting: one that I want ON RECORD:

Telenavigator Zzampt was, surprising NO ONE, found three-quarters deep into a flask of VOIDBERRY. When taking the drunk away to sleep it off, Dreemka apparently got a confession: Zzampt was, and I quote, ‘PICKLED’, during our escape so many years ago! It’s a wonder we emerged into this world at all!


“So they teleported…” Sybil nods, slowly piecing together the puzzle in her head. “But to move something of that much scale-”

It’s a good thing we didn’t wipe the facility logs after all–we knew the jump would be ‘dirty’, of course, but this was just sloppy: topographical charts since our arrival confirm it–the imprecise warp caused a chain-reaction of dimensional breaches–The High Scholar hypothesizes Zzampt’s folly may have even weakened the dimensional fabric around us…

I can only imagine how severe things are.
” The speaker pauses to do something you can’t quite pick up. “There are some among the staff who expressed eagerness in testing this dimensional ‘slack’--consider this my on-record refusal to take part in it. Our place here is tenuous at best–there’s no sense in jeopardizing that unnecessarily.

And with that, Kelly reassembles on the monolith screen. “END OF LOGS.

>CONTD.
>>
>>5271905
“Amazing…” Sybil whispers, still taking it all in. “Extradimensional travelers, Stan!” Her childlike glee quickly gives way to apprehension. “... And accidental saboteurs, it would seem… Thinning our dimensional borders-it certainly explains a lot-”

You can do your history homework later, you snarl! You’re a HOMEOWNER now! In CALIFORNIA! No one’s messing with this dimension if you’ve got anything to say about it! In fact, you snicker, you’ve got some messing around in mind, yourself!

Tapping the PRISM against the words ‘SECURITY SYSTEMS, you cross your arms and grin as a series of massive purple spheres emerge from the three destinations marked on the map.

Moments later, a swarm of several red dots populate the area around OUTPOST B, a few around OUTPOST A, and above the LAB sits one massive red sphere–you can already guess what that’s supposed to be!

“The SEA DEMON. At least it’s predictable.” Sybil remarks. Right… you were gonna say the demon, yep!

FACILITY SECURITY BYPASSED BY UNREGISTERED USER. PLEASE CONTACT SITE ADMIN IMMEDIATELY.

“Dat’ ain’t good.” Ly hisses. “Remember dose’ kids dat’ hacked da’ school website back in High School?”

“Those images are still burned into my mind, yes.” Sybil shivers as you respond with a shrug. Nothing you haven’t seen on 4JAN.

ERROR: LAB ADMIN PRIVILEGES REVOKED. PLEASE CONTACT SITE ADMINISTRATOR IMMEDIATELY.” Before you can ask how, Kelly has already placed a large red ’X’ over the LAB PYRAMID.EXTERIOR AND OUTPOST DEFENSES LOCKED PENDING OVERRIDE–MATTER DISPERSAL FREQUENCY CANNON IFF SYSTEMS DISABLED. MDF CANNONS OPERATIONAL PENDING OUTPOST PERSONNEL APPROVAL.” The virtual being looks your way with a hint of eagerness in its geometric eyes. “ACTIVATE?

The word ‘yes’ nearly escapes your lips when Sybil tackles you to the ground! “WAIT, Stan!” She snaps, as Lil’ Stanley watches in horror as her remaining chips spill through the air bubble around you and disintegrate in the water, “The IFF SYSTEMS are disabled!”

So? You don’t exactly need frequent flyer miles right now, Syb!

“It means ‘Identification Friend or Foe,’ Stanley. Whatever these defenses are, they’ll be shooting at everything. Including us.”

Oh. Right.

>CONTD.
>>
File: maptarget.jpg (32 KB, 612x344)
32 KB
32 KB JPG
>>5271908
Still, you frown, kicking around the wet muck at your feet, those could really help clear out these SKELETONS… and that DEMON, maybe!

“True,” The Goth retorts, “But if this submarine is carrying what I think it is, we don’t want its matter being dispersed, do we?”

You frown. Maybe? Sybil gives you a long, hard stare that starts to make you blush a bit. Quit it, perv!

“... you’re right–I’m sorry.” Sybil sighs. “You’ve gotten us this far–just be sure to think it through, okay? There’s no telling who else has access to these systems.”

AWAITING INPUT.” Kelly interrupts, prompting you to give it attention. AGAIN.

WHAT’S THE DECISION?
>ACTIVATE CANNONS–TARGET: SEA DEMON!
>ACTIVATE CANNONS–TARGET: SKELETONS!
>ACTIVATE CANNONS–SPLIT TARGETS: DEMON AND SKELETONS!
>DON’T ACTIVATE CANNONS!
>WRITE-IN!

That's all for tonight, folks--family stuff came up and I'm drained. Should have more WEDNESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST-- thanks again for your patience and for playing!
>>
>>5271911
>ACTIVATE CANNONS–TARGET: SEA DEMON!
>>
>>5272018
Alrighty, guess we're rolling with BLASTING that hell-sent son of a bitch! Let's see how effective these things are...

ROLL ME 1d100 TO LIGHT THIS THING UP! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

This is also going to be the only update tonight--will take a look again THURSDAY AROUND 6-7PM PST. Working late tomorrow and I gotta prepare for it tonight.
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>5273054
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5273080
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5273054
where everybody been?
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>5273054

Rolling to see what I would have gotten had I been on my PC today.

>>5273092
/qst/ is slow knigga.
>>
>>5273212
One higher than the lowest. You can be proud.
>>
>>5273080
>>5273087
>>5273092
>HIGHEST ROLL: 63!

Aaaand we're back. Work was bananas today, so we'll see how much writing we can get in! Speaking of...

Writing.
>>
File: lockingtarg.gif (1.53 MB, 640x480)
1.53 MB
1.53 MB GIF
You’ve been shot at from dawn to dusk since thread 1–a few more MREs firing at you isn’t gonna break the mold! Dramatically casting your hand forward, you command Kelly to open fire on the SEA DEMON!

And smack your knuckles on the screen in the process. Ow.

I DIDN’T QUITE GET THAT. PLEASE DESIGNATE TARGET OR PRESSGGGHHZTKKRKTSTO SPEAK TO A REPRESENTATIVE.” Shaking the pain from your hand, you give your command another try–this time by tapping your MAGIC PRISM on the colossal dot representing the demon!
https://youtu.be/raqLH-raNvw
ACTIVATING MDF CANNONS. PLEASE WAIT.” Before you can get comfy, you feel your teeth rattle in your mouth as the ruins and the water around you rumble with some sort of alien energy!

POWER LEVELS SUFFICIENT. RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS.

As the ruin walls churn with activity around you, a green dot appears on the monolith screen. Then four. Then eight!

DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE. RELAYING TARGET DATA TO FUNCTIONAL WEAPON PLATFORMS.

“I hope this doesn’t create too much of a ruckus upstairs…” Sybil whispers. For a moment you can almost hear boots at the top of the slope that brought you to the console, but you shake your head–probably nothing. By the time you look back at the screen, the green dots have tripled!

TARGET ACQ-NEW PARAMETERS UPLOADED. CORRECTING TARGET.
WHAT?! Sharing an incredulous glance with Syb, Ly, and Lil’ Stanley, your fears are confirmed when the targeting reticle encapsulating the SEA DEMON slowly shifts towards your location!

“Hey, uh… is that you guys doing that?” Crackles Mitzi’s voice from the radio in your pocket. “Should we be panicking?”

“Must be that UNREGISTERED USER!” Sybil snarls, eyes glowing blue with irritation! “We can’t let them take over–any ideas, Stanley?”

Just one, you nod, and it’s gonna take some concentration, so zip it! Cracking your knuckles, you take a deep breath before MASHING the SEA DEMON on the screen with both fingers! Curious and delighted by your tactics, Lil’ Stanley joins in as well, as does Syb!

“It’s…” Syb hisses through gritted teeth, “it’s working!”

Indeed it is! All that button-mashing practice you’ve had playing fighting games with Gus finally paid off–though the UNREGISTERED USER struggles to gain control, it’s not good enough! The tug-o-war lasts for a tense few minutes, but just when your fingers are starting to burn, your opponent loses their edge just long enough for Kelly to announce the victor!

TARGET LOCKED. FIRING.

That’s right, bitch!

>CONTD.
>>
File: target-acquired.png (9 KB, 377x193)
9 KB
9 KB PNG
>>5274381
You’re still mid-mash when the water around you fizzles with energy–lots. So much, in fact, that you nearly fall over when the first shot rings out–that honor goes to the third one, actually.

HIT DETECTED. HIT DETECTED. HIT DETECTED. HIT…” The virtual intelligence’s voice fades into the background as you get another confirmation–this one in the form of an ear-splitting shriek that still manages to rattle the walls despite being so far away! Squealing in what you hope is pain, you can’t help but cackle as the titanic dot on the monolith slowly floats towards the edge of the map!

TARGET FLEEING.” Kelly reports. “ADJUSTING PARAMETERS.

“HAH! It don’t like dat’!” Ly croons as you regain your footing! “Not one bit!”

As the ruins rock from a few more salvos, your excitement fades as you definitely hear some voices above you–COMMIE voices!

“That’s a cue to leave if I’ve ever heard one.” Sybil remarks as you notice the monolith’s targeting reticle inch towards your outpost out of the corner of your eye. Yea, you growl, tapping the screen a few times to throw your mystery opponent off, your fingers are getting tired!

“Alright, not dead yet–did we win something?” Snapping at Mitz to cool it for a sec, you navigate away from the outpost’s security systems and back to the root menu! Where’s that damn teleport option…

ARE YOU REFERRING TO THE TELEPORTER SIGNAL? I CAN HELP YOU WI-NEW TARGET DESIGNATED. ACQUIRING.

YES, you roar as Syb watches the top of the slope for any signs of the enemy, you wanna talk about signals!

PROCESSING. OUTPOST POWER IS CURRENTLY DIVERTED TO-KRRZZK! VVHR!-UNDEFINED SYSTEMS! REDIRECTING POWER WILL RAISE TELEPORTER SIGNAL STRENGTH AS FOLLOWS: TELEPORTATION TO OUTPOST A: 88% STRENGTH. TELEPORTATION TO LAB: 60%.

“Alright, NOW we can tal-”

Not NOW, ART! Stuffing your radio deeper into your pockets, you tap the screen a few more times to speed things up as Syb’s body starts to glow with blue energy!

WARNING: REDIRECTION OF POWER FROM-GRRRRNK!ZZZZZRRRZZK!-UNDEFINED SYSTEMS MAY-

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME, STANLEY!” Sybil shouts over the sound of several boots approaching from above! “We either warp or we slip out!”

She might be right–that targeting reticle’s still approaching this outpost, too! Whatever you do, you’d better do it quick!

MAKE THE CALL!
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO THE LAB!
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>DIVERT POWER… BUT GIVE US A BIT OF TIME TO GET SOME DISTANCE, FIRST! JUST IN CASE!
>DON’T DIVERT POWER–JUST TELEPORT US TO THE LAB!
>DON’T DIVERT–TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>SCREW THIS–WE’RE SLIPPING OUT AND WALKING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5274383
>>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>>
>>5274383
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO THE LAB!
>>
>>5274383
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
I wonder if a failed tele would be a Game Over. Would we just be scrambled by it?
>>
>>5274512
That's for me to know and for YOU mooks to find out! I'll probably whip up the next update FRIDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST! Thanks again for playing and see you later--voting window will be open until then!
>>
>>5274383
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>>
>>5274523
But what if we don’t get to find out?
>>
>>5274549
Then you guys passed the roll, probably! After that I can always chuck Art into the unstable teleporter if you want!
>>
>>5274959
Alright, I’m fine with that.
>>
>>5274383
>DIVERT POWER AND TELEPORT TO OUTPOST A!
>>5274959
Good enough for me
>>
>>5274398
>>5274512
>>5274533
>>5275155
>OUTPOST A!

>>5274479
>THE LAB!

Sorry, all, got caught up in family stuff. Weekend's already shaping up to be pretty busy and I'm not on my main rig... that said...

ROLL ME 1d100-10 TO GET THE 'TELE' OUTTA HERE AND BACK TO OUTPOST A! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 61 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5275584
>>
Rolled 34 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5275584
>>
Rolled 27 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5275584
>>
>>5275588
>>5275594
>>5275600
>HIGHEST ROLL: 51! JUST MADE IT!

Writing!
>>
File: progbar.gif (535 KB, 400x300)
535 KB
535 KB GIF
You’re not exactly sure what a ‘MADDER DISPENSER FREAKILY’ cannon does, but in your opinion it sounds a LOT worse than whatever a teleporter malfunction can do! Clearing your throat amidst the sound of muffled cannons and COMMIE GOBBLEDEGOOK, you inform Kelly that yes, you’d like her to make those adjustments or whatever to troubleshoot the teleporters!

“VERBAL CONFIRMATION ACKNOWLEDGED. PROCESSING.”

Strings of alien characters race across the monolith’s screen as the conduits snaking upwards through the ruins groan in protest! Almost immediately after, you feel immense pressure build around you as something starts to give in the submarine above! Before you can ponder what, a salvo of HARPOONS embed themselves into the monolith next to you! SYB?!

The Goth fires back with a trio of ARCANE BOLTS at the SKELETON SQUAD at the top of the slope! “On it!”

Stuffing Lil’ Stanley’s curious head deep into your pocket, you ARMOR UP just in time to deflect a HARPOON off your armored face!

“I don’t speak Russian, but I think they’re askin’ us ta’ leave!” Ly shouts as you hear something burst in the sub above! Yea, you snap, you’re getting that feeling too! KELLY!?

“TROUBLESHOOTING COMPLETED. NEW ESTIMATES COMPLETE: TELEPORTATION TO OUTPOST A: 88% STRENGTH. TELEPORTATION TO LAB: 60%. PLEASE SELECT YOUR DESTINATION.”

With PLEASURE! Tapping the option for OUTPOST A, you take the opportunity to yank Sybil out of the way of a HARPOON ripping through the water!

“DESTINATION CONFIRMED. READYING TELEPORTER. PLEASE REMAIN IN THE DESIGNATED AREA.”

Something hums in the monolith as the process begins. You’re pretty sure you’re supposed to see that ‘designated area’ Kelly was talking about, but all you really notice are a few more harpoons and some funny-looking sea urchins on the barnacle-ridden floor. Uh…

“TELEPORTER PREPARATIONS 2% COMPLETE….. 3%......”

Hey, remember when they told you not to move? Just when you’ve found your niche, a massive explosion rips through the sub above–one that sends you, Syb, and even the SKELETONS reeling! Holding Sybil close and burying your head in her disappointingly-small chest, you try not to look as you feel heat close in all around you–THIS IS IT! THEY HIT ONE OF THE NUUUUUUUKES-

“Err, no,” Sybil mutters, patting your head in between firing cheap shots at the downed soldiers, “More likely a steam pipe explosion–we wouldn’t be here if it was one of their missiles.”

Oh. Neat.

>CONTD.
>>
File: timetogo.gif (2.92 MB, 569x323)
2.92 MB
2.92 MB GIF
>>5275697
Wiping the snot and proto-tears off on Sybil’s sweater, you swiftly regain your composure as you watch an unlucky skeleton get torn apart by Syb’s magic! You uh… you knew that. It was a TEST.

“Mhm.” Sybil replies in a mother’s tone. “Hate to rush things, but how much longer?”

“5%...” Kelly drones, earning groans from you, Ly, and Syb! What is this, DIAL UP?!

“6%....” The virtual intelligence responds, clearly not caring. “7%....... 89%..... INITIALIZING.”

Bracing yourself, you and Syb lock hands as the toppled soldiers are replaced by new ones at the top of the slope! Ruins quaking around you and harpoons sailing past like very angry fish, one lucky sharpshooter sends a harpoon spinning directly towards your face…

… and vanishes. In place of crumbling ruins and jets of steam you find yourself standing amidst a familiar waterlogged building in front of an even MORE familiar monolith!

“TELEPORT SUCCESSFUL.” Kelly reports, materializing on the screen like a swarm of geometric bees. “WOULD YOU BE WILLING TO TAKE A QUICK SURVEY BASED ON YOUR EXPERIENCE?”

Yea, uh, you respond, just give us a minute, yea? Stumbling to your knees, you dry heave a few times while Syb keels over next to you and follows suit! Happy to not be dead, Lil’ Stanley ventures forth from your pocket to bat at the buckles on Syb’s boots. Small comforts, huh?

“Don’t get too comfortable, ladies…” Ly remarks as his ASTRAL FORM hovers near the building’s seaweed-riddled entrance, “We ain’t outta’ da’ woods yet…”

Stumbling to your shaky feet, you take a few steadying breaths before making your way over to Ly’s spectral form. So help you GOD, if there’s more Mermaids, Commie Skeletons, or TALBOT giving you shit-

The correct answer is D-None of the Above. Following your skeleton’s ghostly finger towards where the sub was, you’re treated to a series of explosions that rock the reefs all around you! Uh oh…

“The monolith!” Croaks Sybil as she stumbles over to your side, “It must have been stabilizing the sub’s reactor!”

Okay, you mutter, wincing as Lil’ Stanley’s claws dig into your leg, so what happens now?

“Well it’d be extremely unlikely,” Sybil explains in a shaky tone, “But there’s still a very miniscule, TINY chance that the submarine will overheat and, well…. Explode.”

You blink as the sub continues to do just that. And uh, you stammer, what happens next?

“Well,” Sybil continues, nervously tugging at her choker, “If there WAS indeed nuclear armaments onboard-”

Before she can finish, the sea lights up with an impossibly bright light–one that stings your eyes even when they’re closed! Feeling jets of hot water rush by your face, you do your best to brace yourself as the ocean is filled with a rumbling that shakes you to the bone!

>CONTD.
>>
>>5275701
On one hand, the combined detonation of every nuclear missile onboard the submarine was, as far as they go, a pretty painless way to die. On the other hand, the explosion wasn’t far enough from shore to spare the coast, so it didn’t take long for everyone within the MAGICAL BARRIER surrounding CLEARWATER to develop acute and VERY painful radiation sickness.

Everyone with a pulse, at least.

GAME OVER!
Score: 2 out of 500 Points!
REST-

Okay, that joke got old back in Thread 4 or whatever. To your immense surprise (and mild relief), you realize a few seconds after the explosion that you AREN’T DEAD. Neat! As your vision slowly returns, you find yourself staring at a smoldering crater in place of the sub’s resting place! Wiping the detritus from your face, you glance between what little remains of OUTPOST B and Syb awaiting some kind of explanation! Well!?

“Yea, I’d like to know what the hell’s going on too.” Mitzi adds from the radio in your pocket. Somewhere in the background you can hear Talbot screaming too–what a diva.

“SYB!” Shrieks Art’s voice from the same radio, “Are you okay?! We heard that all the way from… doesn’t matter–are you alive?! Is Stan dead? I mean, I’d be happier if she WASN’T dead, but if, y’know, it’s time for a less-volatile leader, well-”

“The cannons. They saved us….” Sybil whispers in shock and disbelief. “The matter just… just DISPERSED…”

As The Goth takes a moment to steady herself against the ruined door frame, your CATLIKE EYES pick up a network of faint, blinking lights strewn about the seafloor–ones you coulda swore weren’t there before! Peering into the darkness with grim resolve, it occurs to you that the SEA DEMON is gone… for now, at least.

Your path to the LAB is as clear as it’s gonna get.

“SYBBIEEE!” Art whines, “TALK TO MEEEE”

“Hey assholes, say something or I’m diving down there and kicking your asses.” Mitzi adds, her cool voice barely registering over Talbot’s ranting behind her.

“S-S-s-sorry t-to in-intrude, b-but th-the M-Marine Biology Department p-picked up s-seismic activity…” Squeaks yet ANOTHER voice over your radio.

Rapid-firing a slew of ‘COOL IT’s into the speaker, you contemplate your next move–you definitely have options now that you’re not dead!

>TELEPORT TO THE LAB! YOU’VE GOT A BETTER CHANCE NOW!
>CHECK IN WITH MITZ AND TALBOT!
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>CONFER WITH ART, GUS, TUCKER, AND EDDIE!
>START WALKING TO THE LAB–YOU’VE GOT A LONG HIKE AHEAD!
>HAVE SYB SIGNAL THE YACHT–TIME TO REGROUP UP THERE!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, all--tomorrow's a bit busy but I should be able to update SATURDAY AROUND 11-12PM PST! Sorry again for the wait and thanks again for playing!
>>
>>5275703
>CONFER WITH ART, GUS, TUCKER, AND EDDIE!
>>
>>5275703
>>TELEPORT TO THE LAB! YOU’VE GOT A BETTER CHANCE NOW!
>>
>>5275703
>CONFER WITH ART, GUS, TUCKER, AND EDDIE!
>>
>>5275703
>CONFER WITH ART, GUS, TUCKER, AND EDDIE!
>>
>>5275731
>>5275821
>>5275842
>CONFER WITH ART AND THE GANG!

>>5275737
>OH NO! BACK TO THE LAB AGAIN

Writing! Still off my main rig, so no handy-dandy color-coded stuff, sorry
>>
File: artquest.jpg (11 KB, 225x225)
11 KB
11 KB JPG
The power of the COOL IT rings true–for a few brief moments, there is only silence.

Welp, that was boring. ART! Snatching the radio out of your pocket and sending Lil’ Stanley flying in the process, you press the call button down and ask for a ‘SIPRAT’! Status Report!

“Stan?” Art asks in that nasally and perpetually SWEATY voice of his, “Is… is Sybbie okay?”

Yes, you groan, rolling your eyes at the girl in question, and if he calls her that while you’re listening ever again you’re gonna give him a wedgie!

“Oh thank GOD…” He remarks, knowing better than to respond to your threats. “Christ, Stan–we saw that explosion from HERE–please tell me that took care of the witch.”

No, you frown, but it looked pretty cool, right?

“Hell YEA it did!” Shouts Eddie from somewhere in the background!
“Hi, Stan.” Adds Gus.
“Yea, it was pretty cool I guess.” Art sighs, clearly not as enthused as his counterparts. “Was it at least for a good reason, or-”

“It was either that or thermonuclear annihilation.” Sybil cuts in, craning her neck closer to the radio from over your shoulder. “Also, hi Artie. Glad you’re okay.”

“Eheheh… Y-you too…”

They can sext later, okay!? You asked for their status, like, four paragraphs ago–why was he so snippy earlier anyways? Is he MANstruating, or something?

“I’m not ‘manstruating’, no.” Art growls, voice instantly losing its bashfulness. “That museum was a SHITSHOW, Stan–you don’t even know!”

He’s right, you counter in an increasingly irritated tone, and that’s why he’s ASKING him! Jesus, did he take ‘Piss Stan Off’ Lessons from Talbot or something?

“Are he and Mitzi okay?” Tucker asks. “They weren’t caught in the blast, right?”

They’re peachy, alright? Now shut up for a second and answer your question already! Also, hi Gus, Ed, and Tuck.

“Well…” Art begins, winding up for a long story, “It went a little something like this…”

And NO FLASHBACKS, damn it! You’ve got shit to do!

“... Fine. Don’t see why YOU get a monopoly on them, though.”

If he wants flashbacks so much, he can get his OWN quest! Now TALK!

>CONTD.
>>
File: trex.jpg (62 KB, 1100x619)
62 KB
62 KB JPG
>>5276465
“Okay,” Art huffs, clearly still peeved about the flashback thing, “So like I said, the museum was a shitshow.”

Hold on a sec, you interrupt–’WAS’? Where the heck are they all now?

“Uh, we LEFT.” Art scoffs, as if you just asked what color grass is. “You don’t get it, Stan-”

No, you frown, HE doesn’t get it–you gave the BRO SQUAD a very important task: ‘Investigate the Museum So That Syb Won’t Geek Out About It’! So why aren’t they still investigating?

“We DID, okay!?” Art snaps, sending Lil’ Stanley scrambling up your pant leg in shock! “We snuck in past a friggin’ army of ANIMAL SKELETONS–they’re still ALIVE, by the way–and the minute we got into the main lobby we were jumped by DINOSAURS!”

“Wait a minute… Dinosaurs?” Syb asks, eyes glowing with interest. “What kind? Could they talk? Did they mention any feathers or-”

“Yea, didn’t really have time to ask.” The Rent-A-Cop replies. “We were too busy running and gunning for our lives. They chased us into the Civil War exhibit–that sucked too-”

Is he gonna bitch and moan all day or is he gonna get to the important stuff?

“You don’t get it, Stan–there were these Confederates in there and they were being really RACIST to Gus and Ed, and-”

Yea yea, you groan, try being a GIRL some time, alright? So they got their butts kicked by old people–what happened next?

“We didn’t get our butts kicked–we just… you know what? Forget it. We ended up in the Atlantis exhibit after taking down a few cavalry units–that’s when things got REALLY nasty.”

“There was a T-RE-”

“Shut UP, Ed! I’m talking to Syb and Stan!” Art hisses! “But yea, we found those Atlantean Scouts… or what was left of them.”

“Eddie mentioned a T-REX?” Sybil asks, still riding the dino high! “Do tell!”

“Nice job SPOILING it, Ed.” Tucker mutters.

“Yea, there’s a T-REX.” Art sighs. “And from the remains we found, it doesn’t seem to have any allegiances going with the Atlanteans.”

“Didn’t want to be friends with us, either!” Eddie adds, shouting like a kid who just got off a roller coaster. “Art fended it off a bit with his grenade launcher and Gus dropped a pterodactyl model on it, but it kept truckin’! You shoulda’ been there, Stan!”

Damn it, you snarl, shaking your fist at your side, you SHOULD have! Stupid burden of leadership!

“ANYWAYS,” Continues Art, “We picked up some of those SEA CLOAKS from them along with these nifty STAVES–we tested them out and they shoot MAGIC ORBS out of the top–we think they track enemies, or something!”

Yep, you sigh, you really should have been there… Maaaan....

>CONTD.
>>
File: demonsummon.png (72 KB, 654x781)
72 KB
72 KB PNG
>>5276469
“Not to put a damper on things,” Sybil interjects as you quietly simmer with the radio in hand, “but did you find anything else of note in the exhibit? Perhaps something those scouts were looking for?”

“Didn’t have much time to look around…” Art replies in an apologetic tone. “But get this: the museum managed to translate a few tablets–one on that TOTEM we heard about, the other on DEMONS!”

Now it’s YOUR turn to get excited! Whatcha got?

“So that TOTEM’s powering up the lich’s magic, right?” Art asks, earning a shrug from you. I mean, it’s been a few threads… you THINK that’s what it was doing?

“The museum curators believed it was some kind of SIGNAL AMPLIFIER–they found a few tablets detailing proper settings, interference, potential contamination, stuff like that.” The security goon continues.

Does, uh, does that mean that the totem could have, I dunno… contaminated PEOPLE?

“They definitely aren’t ruling it out.” Art replies. “The tablets suggested it was some kind of Radio Antenna–it takes in WILD MAGIC and, uh… does stuff with it.”

“A magical amplifier. Sounds useful… if not extremely dangerous.” Sybil remarks. “And I assume that totem has something to do with the other topic?”

“Exactly.” Art confirms. “The details are scarce, but one of the tablets had, like, containment procedures for uh… what did it say again, Tuck?”

“Extradimensional beings.”

“Yea, that. Guess they’ve had issues in the past.”

This is all nice and good, you growl, but did they find anything about REVERSING this crap? Anything USEFUL?

“They didn’t leave an INSTRUCTION MANUAL lying around, Stan.” Art counters defensively. “There were a bunch of these POWER CELL-looking things lying around, though–maybe they’re running out of juice?”

“Question is,” Tucker chimes in again, “For what?”

Well, you segue, they can go back in once they’ve caught their breath and find out, right? Your suggestion is met by a trio of groans.

“Do we HAVE to?” Eddie moans. “Art almost got carried away by a pterodactyl!”

“Yea,” Art agrees, “AND a union soldier threw his sword at me. And my back hurts, by the way.”

THESE bitches… Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you ask them where they are now, if not the museum.

“Oh, uh…” Art mutters, “Well Gus knew this good Mexican place in the area, so-”

“Anyone want more horchata?” Eddie asks just barely out of reach of the speaker.

“Err… we’re nearby.”

FanTASTIC.

>CONTD.
>>
File: horchata.jpg (45 KB, 500x500)
45 KB
45 KB JPG
>>5276470
>>5276470
Anything else you wanna tell these jerks?

>GO BACK IN AND SEARCH FOR MORE CLUES–YOU’RE GONNA NEED ‘EM.
>SCREW THE MUSEUM–LINK UP WITH KIKI AND DENISE AT THE UNIVERSITY!
>SIT TIGHT FOR NOW–YOU’LL CALL THEM LATER!
>FORGET THE MUSEUM–HEAD TO THE COAST. WE FOUND A BOAT!
>DID THEY FIND ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT WILD MAGIC?
>YOU JOKERS FIND ANYTHING ON THAT SEA WITCH?
>YOU SAID YOU FOUND MAGIC STAVES–ANY OTHER HINTS ABOUT ATLANTEAN GEAR?
>WHAT ELSE DID THEY FIND ABOUT DEMONS? JUST, UH, IN CASE!
>LET ME TALK TO (EDDIE, TUCKER, GUS)!
>YOU WANNA TALK TO SYB, LOVER BOY?
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5276480
>FORGET THE MUSEUM–HEAD TO THE COAST. WE FOUND A BOAT!
>>
>>5276480
>>FORGET THE MUSEUM–HEAD TO THE COAST. WE FOUND A BOAT!
>>
>>5276480
Uh, ackshually, dinosaur bones aren't bones, they're stone that replaced the bones as they decomposed
>WHAT ELSE DID THEY FIND ABOUT DEMONS? JUST, UH, IN CASE!
>>
>>5276505
>>5276508
>SHAPE UP AN' SHIP OUT!

>>5276534
>ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT DEMONS?

Writing!
>>
File: Spoiler Image (1.91 MB, 2016x1512)
1.91 MB
1.91 MB JPG
Letting the intel your boys have obtained simmer in your head, you turn to Sybil for advice–they good to go?

“Yes please!” Art chimes in over the sound of food being eaten in the background.

“Some more information would be useful,” Sybil frowns, rubbing her chin in thought, “but this is Atlantis we’re talking about–it’s a wonder that they have anything translated at all, much less available.” The Goth gives you a nod. “We’re not flying blind anymore–if that’s all they found, it should be enough.”

Shooting her a thumb’s up, you tell Art and the others to pack it in–you tracked down a boat and you want ‘em all on it!

“Uh… sure, that can work.” Art responds in a clearly surprised tone.

“We’ll be there in a jiff!” Eddie shouts, prompting the sound of shattering glassware in the background!

“Uh… we’ll be there SOON.” Tucker adds as the rest of the guys start to clean whatever spilled. “Where exactly should we meet you guys? There’s still a lot of skeletons around…”

The RESTAURANT is probably a bad idea, so you opt for something simpler–head to the shore near PITCHFORK ROCK–you’ll pick them up there!

“.... which one?”

What does he MEAN, which one, you sputter incredulously! The shore near the rock, duh!

“Dat’ uh… dat’ ain’t really clear, cupcake. There’s a whole lotta’ beach across from da’ rock…”

Responding to your skeleton’s feedback with a dramatic groan, you give your directions one more try: there’s a STRIP JOINT on the way to the BOARDWALK called the SURF N’ TURF–you’ll meet them on the beach around there!

“... first thing that popped into your head, huh?” Tucker asks as Syb shoots you a sideways glance too.

“Why um… any particular reason why that was your first idea, Stanley?”

You uh… it’s, er… you passed it a lot in your BATTING CAGE days, okay?! It’s not weird! Shut up!

“We went in there a lot, though, didn’t we?” Ly helpfully asks. “You was always sayin’ ya’ had ta’ use da’ bathroom, but then we’d buy a drink an-”

The BATHROOM! Yep, that’s the reason right there! Weak bladder–can’t help it! Anyways, you continue at a mile a minute, they can head there and wait! O-on the BEACH, that is! Pervs!

“... Okie dokie.” Tucker replies with a shrug in his voice.

“That DEMON taken care of, Stan?” Art asks as he and Tucker switch places. “Had more than enough excitement today already.”

Sure, you nod, you scared it off!

“... so it’s still ALIVE, then.”

Man, you’ve got some real ACE DICKS on the case today, don’t you? Quit analyzing everything you’re saying and get the hell over here! STAN OUT!

Shoving your radio deep into your pocket, you give your BFF a chipper nod–that settles that, then!

>CONTD.
>>
File: needride.jpg (98 KB, 1476x1500)
98 KB
98 KB JPG
>>5276841
“We’re picking them up WHERE!?”

Even when holding the radio at arm’s length, Talbot’s voice is WAY too loud! Grimacing at the ringing in your ears, you ask if he REALLY needs you to explain a third time! Is he DUMB or something!?

“Nah, just…” Your ex-bodyguard stumbles, “Y’know, I mean, um-”

“We’ll be there, boss!” Mitzi cuts in in a cheerful voice! “Should be a safe place to dock.”

“YOU know where it is TOO!?” Talbot continues in a somehow even MORE incredulous tone! “Wh-”

“They’ve got really good bathrooms there.” Mitzi explains in a matter-of-fact voice. See? “And I worked there for a few Summers.” See-wait, WHA?

“Just kidding~” Mitzi giggles. “Seriously though, the drinks there are cheap as hell. It’s right off the beach, too.”

Hah! It all makes sense, doesn’t it?

“One more thing, boss:” Adds the Rent-A-Cop, “You guys staying down there, or should we drop anchor so you can climb back up?”

“It might take some time before we can regroup again…” Sybil warns, prompting you to adopt a ‘thinking’ pose. “Though there’s also no telling how long that DEMON will be gone.”

“Am I da’ only one rememberin’ da’ huge-ass CANNONS we turned back on?” Ly adds, clearly not pleased with the decision. “If dose’ can turn a sub into a crater an’ send dat’ demon packin’, think about what they can do to a friggin’ yacht!”

“Ly’s right,” Sybil huffs, “there’s no shortage of pros and cons here…”

“Hey, uh… you guys think we should scout out that club? Y-y’know…” Talbot mutters through the radio, “F-for uh… scouting… purposes?”

“Keep it up and you’ll be scouting overboard.” Mitzi warns. “Well, Stan? Need a lift or what?”

Well?
>YES, SYB WILL SIGNAL YOU GUYS–COME PICK US UP!
>NAH, JUST MEET ART AND THE OTHER DORKS!
>SIT TIGHT FOR A BIT–YOU’VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS TO FIGURE OUT FIRST!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5276843
>SIT TIGHT FOR A BIT–YOU’VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS TO FIGURE OUT FIRST!
>>
>>5276843
>SIT TIGHT FOR A BIT–YOU’VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS TO FIGURE OUT FIRST!
>>
>>5277014
>>5277044
>SIT TIGHT, ALRIGHT?

Writing the last update of the night!
>>
>>5276843
>>SIT TIGHT FOR A BIT–YOU’VE GOT A FEW OTHER THINGS TO FIGURE OUT FIRST!
>>
File: hottea.jpg (82 KB, 760x443)
82 KB
82 KB JPG
It’ll take a little while for Art and the others to get to the, uh, RODNEYBOOT POINT, so you tell Mitz and Talbot to cool their jets for a bit–you’ll have their answer in a jiff!

“You got it, chief.” Mitzi replies through the static, “Just holler when you come up with an answer, alright? Or if you spot that SEA DEMON coming back.”
Yea, yea, you groan, they’d better keep their eyes peeled too!

“No worries, Stan!” Replies Talbot with renewed confidence and hot air, “HOT T will protect you guys!”

“Don’t want to rush ya,” Mitz whispers, “but PLEASE make a choice soon–he’s been doing this ‘HOT T’ thing since you guys hopped overboard.”

Yea, you nod, you’re not exactly thrilled about that nickname either.

“It could use some workshopping, yes.” Sybil nods. “Speaking of, what’s next?”

Well since she asked…

>TELEPORT TO THE LAB! YOU’VE GOT A BETTER CHANCE NOW!
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>CHANGE OF PLANS: YOU’RE WALKING TO THE LAB!
>ACTUALLY… LET’S GET BACK TO THE YACHT!
>INVESTIGATE THE SUB CRATER!
>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, folks--should have more for you SUNDAY AROUND 10-11AM, but the rest of the day might get a little busy! Thanks again for playing and hope to see you again next time!
>>
>>5277297
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>>
>>5277297
>>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>>
>>5277297
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>>
>>5277297
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!
>>
>>5277304
>>5277309
>>5277310
>>5277358
>CONSULT WITH KIKI AND DENISE!

Writing!
>>
File: funguys.jpg (319 KB, 1220x1062)
319 KB
319 KB JPG
Flipping the RADIO to another channel, you take a long, steadying breath.

“Don’t worry, Stanley–Kiki and Professor Venaas went to the UNIVERSITY, correct?” Sybil helpfully inquires, “They should be much safer there.”

That’s what you’re WORRIED about, you groan! Keek’s not gonna talk, so you KNOW who you’re going to have to speak to! And you just KNOW she’s gonna do that annoying ‘nyehehe~’ laugh of hers!

“I understand your apprehension,” Sybil huffs, crossing her arms, “but the information they’ve discovered could be useful in the coming battle.”

When she notices your sour expression isn’t going to change, your BFF changes tac. “If you get it out of the way NOW you won’t have to do it later.”

DAMN she’s SMART! Art doesn’t deserve her, nope. No way! Pressing the ‘CALL’ button, you send a curt ‘STATUS REPORT!’ into the speaker!

“Nyehehe~w-with pl-pleasure!” Denise replies, sounding a little more cheerful and less miserable than usual. What’s her problem!?

“O-oh! N-no problem, Stan! J-just en-enjoying th-the scenery!” The scientist giggles. “D-did yo-you know the University h-has a Myc-Mycology department now? F-fascinating stuff!”

You can talk about MUSHROOMS later, okay? Right now you want some of that intel! Awaiting a response, you notice Lil’ Stanley, Ly, and Syb all staring at you in confusion. What? Every Quest Protagonist worth their salt knows their FUNGI! They’re a keystone organism in nearly every ecosystem! Not to mention their mycelium networks suggest a-

“In a-any case,” Denise interrupts, “K-Kiki and I r-ran into s-someone wh-who says they kn-know-”

“Stanley PARBLE! I see you haven’t been neglecting your studies!” Comes a jovial, academic voice! WHO SENT YOU!?

“Why, Professor Hugh Darby, of course! Researcher of Cryptozoological Studies?”

Uhh…

“We discussed the MERMAID’S TEAR? The seismic activity we tracked the other day suggests you located it.”

Errr…

“You erm, you saved me and a few others from MUTANT SEA CREATURES in the ARENA?”

Ohhhh, THAT guy! He’s the Asian, right?

“Erm, no… But no matter–you’ve been busy. So,” he continues, not missing a beat, “Your colleagues Kiki and Denise tell me you’re interested in ATLANTIS! Fascinating, really!”

Y-yea, you mutter, glancing at the Atlantean Monolith and Virtual Intelligence humming to itself on its surface, it uh… it sure is!

CONTD.
>>
File: atlantis.jpg (157 KB, 736x537)
157 KB
157 KB JPG
>>5277844
“W-well,” Denise interjects, “Pr-professor Darby h-has st-studied our c-current objective at l-length… Oh! K-Kiki s-says ‘hi’, b-by the way!”

Good ole’ Kiki! Where the hell is she, anyways?

“L-last I s-saw, sh-she m-mentioned s-something about l-lose ends?” Denise mutters with a shrug in her tone. “I-I’m sure s-she’ll be back s-soon!”

“In any case,” Darby cuts in, “Your friends informed me that you might have some questions about ATLANTIS… and, erm, WILD MAGIC?”

That depends, you retort, does he have the scoop or doesn’t he?

“I would hope so!” Darby chuckles. “Both come up quite a bit at our department cookouts. What would you like to know?”

Well…

“Not to be a bother, Stan, but remember we’re on borrowed time… that DEMON won’t be gone forever, and that WITCH must know we’re on our way by now.” Sybil whispers. There’s always something, huh?

>GIVE ME A QUICK RUNDOWN ON WILD MAGIC!
>ANY CLUE WHY THERE’S SO MUCH WEIRD CRAP IN CLEARWATER?
>HOW’S THE UNIVERSITY DOING?
>HOW CAN WILD MAGIC BE USED, EXACTLY?
>WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE SEA WITCH?
>WHAT HAVE YOU EGGHEADS FOUND OUT ABOUT ATLANTIS–THE ONE NEAR CLEARWATER?
>ANY CLUE ON HOW TO DEAL WITH DEMONS?
>ODD QUESTION, BUT WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FAIRIES?
>TELL YOU WHAT–YOU’LL ASK THIS STUFF LATER!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5277846
>GIVE ME A QUICK RUNDOWN ON WILD MAGIC!
>>
>>5277846
>>GIVE ME A QUICK RUNDOWN ON WILD MAGIC!
>>
>>5277923
>>5277928
>WILD MAGIC 101!

Writing! Sorry for the wait--eyes have been feeling fucky the whole day. We'll see how things go!
>>
Sorry, all--gonna have to belay this until MONDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST... things just got way too busy today and I'd rather not rush the update. Will pick things up tomorrow--sorry for the wait!
>>
>>5277846
>GIVE ME A QUICK RUNDOWN ON WILD MAGIC!
>>
File: whatsmagic.jpg (104 KB, 1280x720)
104 KB
104 KB JPG
Well, you begin, leaning up against the nearest wall, this whole ‘WILD MAGIC’ thing’s been bothering you for a while–maybe even longer than you think! He can start by giving you the scoop on that!

“Certainly!” Darby laughs through the radio’s speaker! “You know, normally you have to be enrolled to get information like this.”

Well if he doesn’t do it for FREE you’re leaving Denise there with him! PERMANENTLY!

“Don’t worry–I think you’ve earned a lecture or two after all the work you’ve done.” The professor replies. “Now then–what do you already know about WILD MAGIC anyways?”

Well, you mutter sheepishly, it’s uh… it’s MAGIC… and it’s pretty WILD. And there seems to be a lot of it around CLEARWATER.

“Correct on all counts.” Darby says in an encouraging tone. “To understand what little we know of WILD MAGIC, we must first have a concept of what MAGIC is.”

You shoot a nervous glance in Syb’s direction. There isn’t gonna be a QUIZ on this, is there?

“We’ll see!” Laughs the professor. “To put it simply, we can compare MAGIC to most other forms of energy: it can’t be created, nor destroyed–only transformed. Practitioners of the ARCANE ARTS can harness this energy to perform incredible feats, but becoming a conduit for this energy takes time, focus, and, most importantly, the right reference materials. As you might imagine, however, magic doesn’t come in a textbook.”

“No… no it doesn’t.” Sybil interjects with a frown on her face. “There are books, of course, but those are hard to come by. There’s the internet as well, but there’s always a risk when using unverified sources…”

“Your friend is correct!” Darby interjects with an impressed tone of voice. “I’d like to say our department has a solely academic interest in the arcane arts, but there are several parties that see our interest in a, well, different light…”

Let me guess, you interrupt, some sort of ‘EYE ORDER’, right?

“Among others, yes.” Darby confirms. “I can understand their caution, of course, but the way they hoard that information makes it difficult to lear.. erm, but I digress. Needless to say, without a wealth of readily-available information, our understanding of magic and its properties remains… limited, to say the least.”

“Hence the podcast.” Sybil adds with a smile. “I really ought to circle back to magical fundamentals once all this is done…”

One thing at a time, ya crazy bitch!

>CONTD.
>>
File: purptree.jpg (122 KB, 777x900)
122 KB
122 KB JPG
>>5279704
“What we do know is this:” Darby continues, clearly getting into it, “We can liken magic to energy… or a FUEL, to be more precise. No fuel, no work. A car with no fuel doesn’t move. A wizard or witch with no fuel-” The professor blows a raspberry into the speaker. “No magic! The good news is that while magical energy isn’t as easily-detectable as electricity or heat, we can assume it’s abundant… in a manner of speaking.”

You blink. What manner would THAT be?

“When a mage casts a spell, a reaction occurs.” Explains the professor. “Success or failure doesn’t matter–someTHING, intended or otherwise, will happen 90% of the time. But why?”

Uhh…

“Because it WANTS to transform!”
Oh. Right.

“WILD MAGIC acts like an atom with excessive charge--it doesn’t WANT to be WILD. It wants to be STABLE!”

Okay, you nod, mind drawing a blank on atoms, so why doesn’t WILD MAGIC chill out, then?

“That’s the thing, Stanley–it DOES!” Darby exclaims! “The unexplained phenomena we witness, the strange occurrences–all of it can be attributed to WILD MAGIC stabilizing, you see? That transformation, whether it’s a mage casting a spell or a tree absorbing energy–we hypothesize that all of it is caused by magic attempting to become stable again!”

“You mentioned absorption,” Sybil interjects, “does that imply people could, well, become conduits for this energy?”

“Most certainly!” Darby replies, barely phased by the new speaker! “An account by Raphael DeCourt comes to mind: in the mid 1600’s DeCourt documented a series of events surrounding a group of neighbors in a shared tenement building–each one about as different as can be in background, profession, and health. Despite their differences, they all complained of similar symptoms: sleepwalking, lethargy, and an ability to commune with the recently deceased!”

You hope Syb made a mental note to read more about this DeCourt guy. So what did they find out?

“Well it took some time, given the limitations of the time period, but DeCourt and his assistants came to a similar conclusion once they removed the patients from the tenement–something was influencing them. After spending several months on DeCourt’s estate, the patients were eventually ‘cured’. They required no medicine of any kind–merely a change of scenery. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg!”

Let me guess, you sigh, it didn’t end there, did it?

“Thankfully not!” Darby laughs. “In the time that the patients spent on the estate, other tenants began to suffer from similar, but completely different symptoms: clairvoyance! An aversion to water! Seizures! It was only after DeCourt and a few hired hands dug into the tenement’s basement that they discovered a possible source: a MASSIVE, PURPLE TREE with roots dug deep into the masonry! Quite a sight!!”

Yea, that’s wack!

>CONTD.
>>
File: catmallet.gif (2.48 MB, 640x460)
2.48 MB
2.48 MB GIF
>>5279708
“Well it goes without saying that the tree conveniently disappeared shortly after.” The professor explains, his NERD VIGOR slowing down a bit. “DeCourt never published anything again after that, and no trace of the tenement building remains to this day.” He pauses. “With similar occurrences documented all over the world, however, your friend echoes a question countless other researchers have asked: could WILD MAGIC take root in a person?

Well it’d certainly explain things, you growl! These FUGU STATES of yours are no joke!

Fugue States? I suppose that could be a side-effect…” Darby muses idly to himself. “CLEARWATER’S a hotbed for WILD MAGIC activity, but most potential research subjects disappear before we can conduct a thorough examination… Curious.”

You blink. What, they run off, or something?

“Hah! They wish!” The professor chuckles! “No, most people who come into WILD MAGIC die in horrible, painful ways! Why, my colleague Professor Barker brought in a girl, once–one who sent our instruments skyrocketing when we scanned her.”

Competition, ey? Clearing your mind, you ask the professor what happened to her.

“Well I hardly believed it when he told me, but Barker was adamant that some kind of CARTOON CAT WITH A MALLET appeared out of the lab sink and smashed the poor girl into a thin slime! Had the last few days not happened, I would have never believed the man.”

Note to self: avoid CARTOON CATS…

“Anyways, Stanley, I’m afraid this is a long-winded way of saying ‘maybe’. I’m sure there are those who could tell you more, but it’s called WILD MAGIC for a reason!”

Darby pauses for an uncomfortable minute. “Erm, perhaps when all this is over you’d be willing to swing by the lab for some tests?”

No dice, creep! Your body, your CHOICE! HASHTAG!

“You’d be paid for your time, of course.”

Well… if it’s for academia’s sake....

>CONTD.
>>
File: profquestions.png (146 KB, 672x193)
146 KB
146 KB PNG
>>5279711
“Excellent!” Darby laughs! “Let’s just hope the college is still standing after all this, yes?”

Yes. Where the hell was all this BEFORE the SKELETON APOCALYPSE? You could have been getting FREE MONEY this whole time?

“I believe I told you about it on several occasions, Stanley.” Sybil huffs. “If I had to guess I’d say you just forgot to call.”

That’s right, you snarl, blame it on me… as USUAL!

“Whew! My apologies–I got a bit carried away talking about that!” Darby sighs. “Is, erm, is there anything more SPECIFIC I can answer for you?”

WeEeeellll, you mumble, head still throbbing from all of the words, since he’s here…

>ANY CLUE WHY THERE’S SO MUCH WEIRD CRAP IN CLEARWATER?
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT HUMAN CONDUITS-IS THERE A CURE? OR A USE FOR THAT MAGICAL CRAP?
>THESE MAGICAL ORDERS… WHAT DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THOSE CREEPS?
>HOW’S THE UNIVERSITY DOING?
>WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE SEA WITCH?
>WHAT HAVE YOU EGGHEADS FOUND OUT ABOUT ATLANTIS–THE ONE NEAR CLEARWATER?
>ANY CLUE ON HOW TO DEAL WITH DEMONS?
>ODD QUESTION, BUT WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FAIRIES?
>YOU’LL ASK MORE LATER! BYE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5279714
>WHAT HAVE YOU EGGHEADS FOUND OUT ABOUT ATLANTIS–THE ONE NEAR CLEARWATER?
>>
>>5279714
>>WHAT HAVE YOU EGGHEADS FOUND OUT ABOUT ATLANTIS–THE ONE NEAR CLEARWATER?
>>
Gonna pick this up TUESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST--got plans for the rest of the night and don't have time to write another update before they happen. See you then, hopefully--sorry for the delays and the short update tonight!
>>
>>5279711
>No dice, creep! Your body, your CHOICE! HASHTAG!
Geez I wonder what ridiculous and evil Republican policy that is referring too

>>5279714
>WHAT HAVE YOU EGGHEADS FOUND OUT ABOUT ATLANTIS–THE ONE NEAR CLEARWATER?
>>
>>5279722
>>5279770
>>5280145
>TELL ME ABOUT ATLANTIS!

Writing! Just got back from the Dentist so I'm a bit fucked up--apologies if updates are a little sporadic!
>>
File: knowledgepower.jpg (54 KB, 800x533)
54 KB
54 KB JPG
You uh, you think you’re good on WILD MAGIC for now, you mutter, mind still reeling from how much a professor can say without actually giving you useful info! Since you’ve got him on the horn, though, what do he and his fellow eggheads know about ATLANTIS?

“Why, plenty!” The professor eagerly chirps! “The theory of Atlantis began many years ago, but-”

No, you DINGBAT, you mean the one near CLEARWATER! The one that, like, split off from the original, or something!

“Err… I beg your pardon?” Darby asks in a slightly puzzled tone. “Split off? I’m afraid I don’tI follow, Stanley…”

Who’s the professor here!? These geniuses spend their whole lives scrounging up crap and making sense of it for cushy university jobs–is he saying he didn’t hear the whole AUDIO RECORDING where LATE OZBURGER HAMLET said all that gobbledegook about drunk teleporters and dimensional tearing and-

“A-AUDIO RECORDING!?” Stammers the professor over the sound of papers ruffling and Denise crying out in the background, “N-no… Th-the university has come across several fragments of information–a few primary sources at best–but you’re saying you have evidence of some kind of… exodus?!”

Uhhhh, yea. What’s it to him?

“... could… would you mind erm, relaying what you heard?”

Uh UH UH, you retort, not so fast, geek! Information is power, and you want some of his first… then you’ll think about it! Squid Pro Glow!

Syb tries to mouth something to you, but gives up halfway through. Probably nothing. Truth is you couldn’t tell him if you tried–not without some time sitting in a comfy chair and a tasty drink or two, that is. Say, Sybil’s got that MINI CAMERA in her eyebrow piercing–you can watch it again later when you get the chance!

“Right, yes… Your friend Denise here informed me you might be busy…”

Friend’ is pushing it, but yea… Lots to do!

“Very well then–I’ll tell you what we’ve found out.” Darby sighs, clearly dismayed. “But your contributions would be greatly appreciate-”

You’ll work out the payment later, GOSH!

>CONTD.
>>
File: underpyramid.jpg (97 KB, 1000x563)
97 KB
97 KB JPG
>>5281185
“Well then, where to begin…” The Archnerd shuffles through some papers on his end. “From what we’ve discovered, the ATLANTEANS as we call them possess scientific and engineering expertise that borders the unfathomable. The fact that what little artifacts we’ve recovered are still functional coupled with their ability to confound and elude our attempts at reverse-engineering suggest a society of very intelligent, yet also EXTREMELY paranoid people.”

“A dangerous combination, non?” Sybil asks, eyes flitting in your direction. Oh great, she’s speaking MEXICAN again…

“We at the university believe this implies that Atlanteans must be in some manner of ‘arms race’ with another civilization–not that we have much evidence to determine who. Whoever or whatever spurred so much technological development must be comparatively cunning, however–why else would the Atlanteans make it so difficult to dissect their devices?”

You don’t like people messing with your stuff either, you reply. Your ‘friend’ Sybil still won’t give you back this skirt you loaned her-

“For the last time,” The ‘friend’ in question growls, “That was MINE. You borrowed it from me and forgot.”

Cementics. Point is, maybe these Atlantans just don’t want people touching their crap?

“Well we can’t rule it out, I suppose.” Darby admits with a shrug in his tone. “In any case, what we have been able to recover suggests a humanoid form–similar skeletal structure, albeit taller than the average human, a strict social hierarchy based around knowledge and merit, and a natural affinity for the use and manipulation of WILD MAGIC. Funny how we’ve come full-circle, isn’t it?”

Yea, yea, you groan, keep going!

“As I was saying, most, if not all of their technology revolves around the use, transformation, and even blocking of WILD MAGIC.” Darby continues. “One piece we obtained was, upon inspection by a mage colleague, found to be completely and utterly devoid of any trace of magic–so much so that we could almost consider it a magical insulator of sorts.” He pauses to take a sip from an unseen beverage. “It appeared to have come from some masonry–a wall, most likely.”

So what, you mutter as you put the pieces together yourself, they’re trying to keep magic out? Makes sense to you!

“Possibly.” The professor guesses. “But it could also keep magic in as well, yes?”

“It could…” Sybil nods, rubbing her chin in thought. “That would certainly be useful in an emergency, hm, Stanley?”

You respond with a scowl. The hell’s she looking at you for?!

“Remember those usage logs?”

Oh. Right.

>CONTD.
>>
File: ohcod.png (173 KB, 600x600)
173 KB
173 KB PNG
>>5281186
“Well,” Darby mutters to himself, “Our museum colleagues did posit the possibility of, well, extradimensional experimentation… Apparently they discovered safety instructions of some sort on a recent expedition.”

“Somethin’ about DEMONS, right?” Ly asks as if trying to remember if he left the stove on. “Didn’t we tangle wit’ one of those, Stan?”

Yep, you hiss, some fish-suited jackass at the school. If that’s a demon, though, then those guys are total WUSSES!

“History has proven they aren’t to be trifled with.” Darby warns in a hushed voice. “But to a civilization as advanced as the Atlanteans, well, DEMONS might be to them as rats are to us… an unsettling thought.”

What’s unsettling is how he hasn’t told you jack about practical stuff yet, you snarl! You’re heading to their LAB in a bit and there’s supposed to be, like, a TOTEM or something–how the heck are you supposed to get in and stop the party!?

“Totem?” Darby asks as a realization slowly grows in his tone! “Of COURSE, the totem! That would certainly explain the BARRIER around town–the way the Atlanteans wrote of it made it sound like a giant antenna of some sort… one that collects MAGIC!

Great, you groan, so you’re guessing it’s bad news, huh?

“Not in the right hands, no!” The professor counters! “If it works like a radio antenna, then ‘aligning’ it in the correct way could provide dizzying amounts of power to someone… and if the one responsible for this mess is cut-off from that power at the same time, well…” He pauses. “Listen, Stanley: Atlantean engineering is frightfully durable, especially against magic. Stress tests suggest SUSTAINED BLUNT TRAUMA is most effective against their construction, but the truth is I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

You blink. Well he’d better start, you hiss, or you’re leaving Denise there with him… for KEEPS!

“Fret not–I have no intention of keeping vital information from you.” Darby whispers. “The university would have my head for sharing this, but since THE DEAN’S disappeared…. We uncovered a CIPHER of sorts–one that we believe has quite a bit of sway in Atlantean systems..”

NOW we’re talkin’, you cackle! What’s he got for ya?

’TRE TAKK TUK MHA.’

Bless you.

“That’s the cipher, Stanley–we’re unsure if it’s a vocal command or something that has to be input, but use it well. If possible, please preserve the totem-the amount of knowledge we could attain would be-”

Yeah yeah, you’ve seen this part of the movie before! You’ll think about it, you snap, but he’d better not get any fishy ideas!

“I assure you my interests are purely academic.”

Sure, and you’re a SANDWICH!

>CONTD.
>>
File: acexchange.jpg (113 KB, 1200x300)
113 KB
113 KB JPG
>>5281191
“While I understand your apprehension,” The professor concludes, “I hope you’ll make the right decision. If you truly intend to visit that lab, I’d advise you to use extreme caution–there are far too many unknowns in play here.”

Thanks, dad. There’s just one LIEUTENANT left–this might as well be the victory lap!

“If you say so…” Mutters Professor Darby, clearly not entirely convinced. “In any case, the only other thing I can recommend is to be wary–if there are any surviving Atlanteans, they’re sure to be extremely paranoid… and for good reason, I’d assume.”

Well it’s not much, you sigh, but it’ll help… maybe.

“Speaking of help,” Darby adds, “You erm… you wouldn’t mind imparting some of what you learned onto me, would you?”

You frown. Is he coming on to you?

“Of course not!” The professor gasps! “I was referring to the contents of that LOG you came across!

Oh. Well, you mutter to yourself…

>SURE! JUST DON’T FORGET WHO TOLD YA!
>ON ONE CONDITION! YOU WANT SOMETHING FOR IT!
>ASK SYB–SHE CAN EXPLAIN BETTER!
>UH OH! KSSSH! YOU’RE KSSSH! BREAKING! KSSHSHH! UP! (PUT IT OFF TIL’ LATER!)
>ACTUALLY YOU KINDA FORGOT IT ALL (LIE AND KEEP IT FOR YOUR MEMOIRS!)
>WRITE-IN!

Also…

>ANY CLUE WHY THERE’S SO MUCH WEIRD CRAP IN CLEARWATER?
>TELL ME MORE ABOUT HUMAN CONDUITS-IS THERE A CURE? OR A USE FOR THAT MAGICAL CRAP?
>THESE MAGICAL ORDERS… WHAT DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THOSE CREEPS?
>HOW’S THE UNIVERSITY DOING?
>WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE SEA WITCH?
>ANY CLUE ON HOW TO DEAL WITH DEMONS?
>ODD QUESTION, BUT WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FAIRIES?
>YOU’LL ASK MORE LATER! BYE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5281194
>UH OH! KSSSH! YOU’RE KSSSH! BREAKING! KSSHSHH! UP! (PUT IT OFF TIL’ LATER!)
>ODD QUESTION, BUT WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FAIRIES?
>>
>>5281194
>>UH OH! KSSSH! YOU’RE KSSSH! BREAKING! KSSHSHH! UP! (PUT IT OFF TIL’ LATER!)
>>ODD QUESTION, BUT WHAT DO THEY KNOW ABOUT FAIRIES?
>>
>>5281203
>>5281196
this
>>
>>5281196
>>5281203
>>5281215
>PUT IT OFF
>FAERIES!

Tell you guys what... ROLL ME 1d100... JUST IN CASE. I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!
>>
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5281287
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>5281287
>>
Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>5281287
>>
>>5281289
>>5281292
>>5281311
>HIGHEST ROLL: 61!

Writing!
>>
File: nosig.png (140 KB, 727x404)
140 KB
140 KB PNG
Well, you repeat, your answer i-KSSSSSHHH!

“Could you repeat that?” Darby asks as Denise mutters something off to the side. “I didn’-”

BBBRRRSSSHHH!YOU’RE-KRSZSSHHHH!

“I can tell that you’re ju-”

BRRRSSSZZZZOH NO HE’S BREAKKSSSSSTTTS UP! YOU’LL HAVE TBBBSSSSSSHHHHATER!

“... Just-”

KKRRRSSSSSSHHHH

“ALRIGHT, we’ll talk about it later!” Darby roars, abandoning his calm, erudite demeanor from before! “Good LORD...”

Neat, you chirp, shooting Syb a thumb’s up, and uh, sorry–you were heading through a, uh, SEA TUNNEL! Spooky!

“I’m sure.” The professor mutters, clearly unimpressed. “Well in that case, Stanley, I’ll give you back to your friend… I’m sure you have plenty of work to get t-”

Wait a minute, you snap, the connection’s back again! What a relief, right? Say, since he’s still got a little time on his hands…

“... I actually do have a few jobs to complete around campu-”

Don’t interrupt a lady–it’s rude. As you were saying, he really oughta tell you a little bit about FAERIES–any deets he can share on them?

The line goes eerily quiet–no professor, no whining Denise, not even a paper fluttering in the breeze–you’re just about to smack the RADIO against the wall a few times when you finally get a response.

“I… I don’t know anything about them, actually.”

What a lousy excuse of a professor! Dude talks your ear off about magic and Atlanta, but can’t say anything about dumb ole’ FAERIES?!

“... Sorry.” Replies the voice, “The less said about them the better, really.”

STAN.” Sybil hisses with a fearful look on her pale face, “Drop it!”

Drop what? You just wanted to ask a so-called EXPERT about friggin’ FAERIES. What, are they gonna get pissed or something? FAERIES FAERIES FAER-

”IES. You want to talk about FAERIES.” Confirms Darby’s voice. “We can tell you all about FAERIES, Stanley. Let’s talk about FAERIES.”

The water around you goes thick with clouds of green. Is uh, is his RADIO okay? His voice sounds a little different.

“... We have a sore throat. Let’s talk about FAERIES.”

… Okay!


>CONTD.
>>
File: greenfog2.gif (5.16 MB, 1000x560)
5.16 MB
5.16 MB GIF
>>5281459
https://youtu.be/jt3zmsVAakQ
Squinting to try and spot Syb in the increasingly cloudy water, you continue the conversation with uh… ‘Darby.’ So, you cough, FAERIES.

“Yes…” The voice coos, “You’re very interested in FAERIES, aren’t you, Stan? You and your purple-haired friend sure do talk about them a lot…” For a brief moment you catch a glimpse of Sybil’s silhouette in the fog… right before a massive, gnarled appendage creeps up behind her. Just when you’re about to dart towards her, the shadows disappear.

“Yes… FAERIES are interesting.” Adds Darby’s voice. “VERY interesting… but we know you, Stanley Parble, and we know that you’re… useful. You ARE useful, yes?”

Traipsing through the green fog, you give the RADIO a nod–it’s practically your middle name, yea!

“Course you are, Stanley Parble… course you are…” The voice laughs. “And we’re positively MAD about how useful you are, so we will give you some assistance… pro bono, of course.”

You blink as you feel an icy finger run down your spine. Pro WHAT?

“For free, dear… As a token of…” Darby’s voice catches for a moment. “... As an INVESTMENT. Are you ready for your assistance?”

Before you can respond, you feel the word ‘YES’ escape your lips.

“Grand.” Laughs the voice. “The truth is, love, you don’t WANT to know about FAERIES. Not really.”

Your head subconsciously cocks to the side. R-really?

“Really really.” Darby coos. “And neither does Sybil Castellanos. Or Professor Darby. Or Mitzi Muldoon. Or Arthur Berry. Or Talbot Schumer. Or Mister, Misses, and Sue Parble. Not really.”

Your heart lurches into overdrive. Wha-

“What you really want, kitten, is your FINAL PROVISIONAL TASK. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

Yes, your mouth replies, that sounds great!

“Yes it does, doesn’t it? One more job, Stanley. One more task and you’ll GET THE JOB.”

Wait a second, you counter, regaining control over your lips, what about that shitty CONTRACT? You-

“No contracts.” The voice interjects. “No agreements. No obligations. One more task and you’ll GET THE JOB.”

The job, huh? Hold on, you sputter, is this SHANNON? She sounds, like, a LOT different!

“Bad reception, kitten.” Darby croaks. “We’ll talk more once your task is done.”

Before you can ask, you feel a gossamer object flutter into your outstretched palm. Glancing downwards, you find yourself in possession of a GLOWING LEAF–its surface dotted with countless pinpricks of green dew!

“Take this with you.” The voice explains in a calm tone. “We can’t go where you’re going next, but you’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

You feel yourself stuffing the LEAF deep into your pockets as the voice from the radio whispers into your ear.

“You CAN’T lose it.”

Err, you mutter, you lose stuff all the time, th-

“You CAN’T lose it.”

Kay…


>CONTD.
>>
File: greenleaf.jpg (16 KB, 490x490)
16 KB
16 KB JPG
>>5281461
LEAF secured, you turn towards the radio once more. But what if y-

“You won’t.”

Okay, but what will it-

“It will earn you the job.”

But what if Syb as-

“She won’t.”

… and if you tell-

“You don’t need to.”

The faint scent of hookah smoke tickles your nostrils as you continue to blindly stumble through the fog. But what about your-

“They’ll be fine.”

Well, you gulp, skidding to a halt in what might very well be your original position, that, uh, that covers you, you guess.

“Yes.” Hisses Darby, “It does. Steady on, Stanley–we reward h
ard work around here…”

Yea, but-

Before you can finish your sentence, the fog clears from the water around you. Freezing in place, you find yourself peering over a gaping trench in the seafloor as two people struggle to pull you back from the abyss!

DAMN IT, Stanley!” Sybil growls, tugging away at your jumpsuit collar, “Don’t you even THINK of falling now!”

Tugging at your ankle with her tiny teeth, Lil’ Stanley chitters a similar-sounding response. She… she does care! Just when you’re feeling warm and fuzzy, the trash panda swipes at a chip crumb hanging off your waist. Ah. Nevermind.

“Sorry in advance, cupcake.”

Before you can ask for what, you feel Ly take control of your body! Bending your wobbly knees, your skeleton makes you leap away from the trench and land on top of Sybil and Lil’ Stanley!

“I swear, sometimes you can be so… so FRUSTRATING!” The Goth spits as Lil’ Stanley yelps in distress underneath you! “It’s not enough that you forced Professor Darby and the others to hang up with your ‘static’ shenanigans–you had to almost wander off a cliff too!?”

Angrily rising to her high-booted feet, Sybil begrudgingly helps you up with a telekinetic hand, much to your raccoon’s relief. “I told Denise that you’ll call them back.” She huffs. “We’ve already got Arti-erm, ART and the rest on the way… along with that SEA DEMON, no doubt.”

Yea, you mumble as if waking from a deep sleep, but-

“No buts, Stanley. That NEUTRALIZER I held onto worked, but I was almost too late.” Grabbing you by the shoulders, The Goth looks you dead in the eyes with a mix of frustration and concern. “You… we really can’t afford any mistakes, Stanley. Not at this point.”

Your mind says ‘I was talking to a FAERIE, but the words come out differently:

I got a little sidetracked, Sybil. Sorry.

“Yes, well…” She sighs, bringing you in for a quick hug, “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? And you’d do the same for me.”

Pulling away with a small smile forming on her pale face, Sybil gives your nose a playful tweak before tapping your RADIO. “Now rise and shine, clumsy–we’ve got an attack to plan.”

Sure, you reply in a drowsy voice, you’re on it…

>CONTD.
>>
File: seafloor.jpg (6.16 MB, 4600x2588)
6.16 MB
6.16 MB JPG
>>5281464
Still feeling… off... after whatever just happened, you slowly regain your decision-making equilibrium. What’s the plan?

>TELEPORT TO THE LAB! YOU’VE GOT A BETTER CHANCE NOW!
>CALL BACK DENISE AND KIKI–YOU’VE GOT MORE INSTRUCTIONS FOR THEM!
>CHANGE OF PLANS: YOU’RE WALKING TO THE LAB!
>ACTUALLY… LET’S GET BACK TO THE YACHT!
>INVESTIGATE THE SUB CRATER!
>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight, all--should have more WEDNESDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST! Thanks again for playing and hope to see you then!
>>
>>5281469
>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?


So Atlantis is at war with the faeries? Also at this point I wonder what will end worse for Stan, failing her task or getting that job
>>
>>5281469
>>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?
>>
>>5281469
>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?
>>
>>5281469
>HIKE TO ONE OF THE CANNONS–MAYBE YOU CAN SEE HOW THEY TICK?
>>
>>5281474
>>5281491
>>5281502
>>5281850
>HIKE TO THE CANNON THINGS!

Let's see how pleasant this walk is... ROLL ME 1D100+10 JUST IN CASE! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! I'll write a full update around the usual time!
>>
Rolled 90 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5281951
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>5281951
>>5281970
Flap those little legs!
>>
Rolled 28 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>5281951
>>
>>5281970
>>5281971
>>5281978
>HIGHEST ROLL: 100 (NON-NAT, SORRY :C)

WRITING!
>>
File: seafloor2.jpg (153 KB, 780x438)
153 KB
153 KB JPG
One thing’s been bugging you… well okay, a lot of things are bugging you right now, but one of them happens to be something you can deal with, probably, provided you get hiking now!

“I suppose this means we aren’t riding with the boaters?” Sybil asks, earning a noncommittal shrug from you. This won’t take that long, honest!

“When has dat’ ever been true?” Asks Ly as you set off in the direction you saw cannon fire in. “We actually approachin’ one of those things?”

Yep, you nod, not breaking stride as Lil’ Stanley hops up and clings to your back!

“Don’t they do nasty stuff to uh, our matter?”

Probably!

“We’ve gotten this far,” Sybil huffs, floating alongside you, “And we’ll need all the advantages we can get. Those cannons could come in useful.”

That’s The Spirit! Hah, get it?

“Yes,” Sybil sighs, knowing this isn’t the first time you’ve made that joke and certainly won’t be the last, “yes I do.”

She’s right, though–you want those cannons firing at your enemies, not you! If you can get close and take a peek inside, well…

“You don’t think someone’s still controllin’ ‘em, do ya?” Ask your bones as you clamber onto a massive shelf of coral.

No way! They probably got bored ages ago!

FIVE MINUTES LATER…

THEY DIDN’T GET BORED, STAN!

>CONTD.
>>
File: seademon3.jpg (202 KB, 1999x857)
202 KB
202 KB JPG
>>5282317
Well you certainly didn’t need LY to figure that out! Sinking deeper behind a very large and feisty anemone, you feel the hair on your neck prickle as a twitching orb of… stuff rockets through the water and erases an entire kelp forest behind you! Watching chunks of rubble topple into the freshly-dug crater, you give Syb a stern look–is she ready for this?

“No,” She hisses as you hear the gun warm up several yards away, “But we don’t really have time for preparations, do we?”

Before you can respond with one of your classic COOL and CLASSIC one-liners, opportunity beats you to the punch when you hear the sound of something massive approaching in the distance… followed by another volley of cannon fire!

When you realize you’re not dead a few seconds later, you venture a peek outside of your cover. Though still far away, you couldn’t miss it if you tried–a fiendish mass of tentacles the size of a cruise ship (See Thread 11, true believers!-ed) emerges from the darkness just in time to get lit up… AGAIN!

“The DEMON!” Sybil shouts in perfect monster movie bystander fashion, “It’s back!”

Yea, you grin, what a DUMBASS!

If it feels its matter being, uh, dispersed, it doesn’t show it–much. Sending a bone-rattling shriek through the inky blackness around you, the DEMON maintains a healthy distance away, but doesn’t retreat. Talk about decent timing!

Before Syb or Ly can make another obvious observation, you sprint as fast as your stubby legs can take you in the direction of the nearest cannon! Feeling Lil’ Stanley cling to your back for dear life, you maintain your speed as Sybil blinks into existence next to you!

“Serendipitous, hm?!”

Yea, sure, you huff as you vault over the open maw of a giant clam, you’ll talk about it in a bit! Flashes of blinding light pop in and out of existence as the cannons lay into the beast, giving you brief glimpses at where you’re headed… and the monster guarding the lab! Despite being a few football fields away, you feel a chill run down your spine as you see mottled, scabby skin dotted with countless toothy mouths and black, pupiless eyes!

“EYES FRONT!”

Oh, right! Darting around a territorial SEA WORM, you give the creepy-crawly a good kick as you dash up the hill to where the cannon sits. Though covered in barnacles, algae, and a surprising amount of fiddler crabs, once you get close you can’t unsee it–a structure the size of a ZOOM MART sporting a matching gun turret!

“Stan, honey,” Ly mutters as you stare in awe, “Please, uh, please stop thinkin’ about da’ turret like dat’...”

Wha? Who’s thinking? Wh-anyways, you’re here now! You’re at the gun! Sidling up against its surface, you, Ly, and Sybil scour the cannon for an entrance!

“There ain’t one, cupcake.”

There isn’t one. Shit.

>CONTD.
>>
File: dropoff2.png (521 KB, 672x372)
521 KB
521 KB PNG
>>5282318
“Don’t fret, Stanley,” Sybil says in an encouraging voice, “There’s sure to be some way we can get a look inside!”

“Hate ta’ say it,,” Ly reports as his ASTRAL FORM presses against the gun’s surface,, “But dis’ thing’s shut tight–can’t get through.”

“Hmmm,” Sybil ponders as you and your trusty pet scratch at the surface with your claws, “Do you think they’re all controlled remotely?” Feeling the water around the gun heat up, you and the raccoon take a step back just as a crackle of energy rips across the surface! “Then there must be something collecting a signal.”

Well then why doesn’t she pop in and check, you growl! She can teleport, right?

“I erm…” The Goth mutters, shifting from boot to boot nervously, “I don’t feel comfortable blinking blind. There are too many factors that-”

Oof, must you do everything yourself? Kicking at the cannon’s side a few times, all you get are a few aching toes for your trouble. Didn’t that Darby guy mention a weakness, or something?

What’s the plan here?
>FORGET IT–YOU DON’T HAVE TIME TO TINKER WITH THIS THING!
>TRY SOME OF THAT STICKY, SHOCKY STUFF!
>BACKUUM SOME CRAP AND LAUNCH IT AT THE WALLS!
>CLIMB IN THROUGH THE BARREL–IT LOOKS BIG ENOUGH!
>DROP LIL’ STANLEY INTO THE BARREL–MAYBE SHE CAN DO SOMETHING IN THERE!
>TRY THAT CIPHER YOU GOT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5282321
>>TRY SOME OF THAT STICKY, SHOCKY STUFF!
>>
>>5282321
>TRY SOME OF THAT STICKY, SHOCKY STUFF!
>>
>>5282399
>>5282405
>STICKY SHOCK!

ROLL ME 1d100-10 BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THIS FUCKING THING IS! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

If you wanna APPLY it in a specific way, write it in!
>>
Rolled 86 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5282447
>>
Off to a good start, but it's getting late on my end so I'll be writing an update THURSDAY AROUND 4-5PM PST! Seeya then!
>>
Rolled 14 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5282447
>>
Rolled 18 - 10 (1d100 - 10)

>>5282447
>>
>>5282514
>>5282568
>>5282613
>HIGHEST ROLL: 76!

Sorry, all--today got REALLY busy out of nowhere. Writing!
>>
File: goobomb.png (17 KB, 230x230)
17 KB
17 KB PNG
Sifting through the armory currently clanking around in your pockets, you’re just about to test if your ROCKET LAUNCHER’S waterproof when you feel someone, or rather someTHING reaching into your pockets! Intercepting the thief, you earn a few nips on your gloved hand for your trouble.

Lil’ Stanley. You should have known! Snatching the thief up by the scruff of her neck, it takes you a moment to realize that she managed to grab something!

“That gel…” Sybil remarks as the wild animal hangs from your hand with a sour look on her face and one of those GOOEY ORBS WITH ELECTRICAL DISKS IN THEM in between her teeth! Sneaky little chunker! Grabbing a hunk of the goo in your free hand, your attempt at wrestling your item free of her jaws is thwarted when your pet immediately lets go and graciously hands it over!


… yea, just kidding. What follows instead is a brutal tug-o-war match rivaled only by the ongoing bombardment of the SEA DEMON far above! As you and the raccoon clash, so too does the mass of writhing tentacles and gnashing teeth!

“Hate ta’ interject,” Ly interjects as a sudden lurch from Lil’ Stanley sends both of you tumbling to the ground, “But is it supposed ta’ do dat’?”

Your brawl skids to a halt as both you and your animal companion pause mid-scrap when you notice a faint, but steady flickering light from the disks within the goop! Watching wide-eyed as the pulses of light grow larger in magnitude, Lil’ Stanley eagerly releases the orb from her jaws and half-runs, half-swims over to Sybil’s curious form!

Left with the proverbial ‘bag’ in your hands, you feel a dust-covered lightbulb flicker to life in your cavernous skull–one that points you back towards the cannon! Sprinting over to your target, you triumphantly slap the GOO ORB onto the gun’s armored shell and snicker–this oughta be interesting!

“Erm, Stanley?” Sybil mutters as she tries and fails to detach the woodland creature from her back, “It’s still there.”

Oh no, she’s RIGHT! AGAIN! Try as you might, the gooey lightshow continues to stick to your hand no matter how many times you slap it against the cannon! You really didn’t think this through!

“Yea, I could see dat’ as da’ title of our memoirs.”

Shut it, Ly! As the flashing on the disks is slowly accompanied by a dull beep, you spot a particularly rough-looking patch of barnacles and rub the goo off on it! You barely feel the last few threads of goop leave your hand before you run off, diving behind both Syb AND the cowardly beast that abandoned you roaring ’HIT THE DEEEEEEEECK!

>CONTD.
>>
File: fishy.jpg (39 KB, 500x667)
39 KB
39 KB JPG
>>5283725
And that’s where the comparison between the standoff far above ends. Curled up in cover behind your pale-skinned friend, you venture a confused and somewhat annoyed glance at the thing that was supposed to kill you a few seconds ago. What gives?!

“Good question.” Sybil remarks as the GOO continues to fizzle, pulse, and beep like a child’s toy! “Do you suppose it’s a beacon of some sort?”

You rise to your feet with an appropriate eyeroll. If you seriously picked up 3 LIGHT BEACONS you’re gonna be seriously peeved–who the hell leaves those lying around?

“Evidently the Atlanteans do.” Sybil frowns, clearly expecting something far more glorious than more beeps. “Still, being the first ones to witness advanced technology like this in action is a reward unto itse-”

Halfway through Sybil’s GEEKSPEAK, a very small and very curious little fish comes darting through the water to see what all the hubbub is! Immediately locking onto the flashing goo, the minnow makes a beeline for its center where an arc of electricity shoots out and reduces it to a convulsing mess!

As you, Ly, Syb, and your pet watch in growing confusion and horror, the relatively translucent goo flashes red for a split second before EXPLODING with the force of a pile of plastic explosives! Launched backwards, you and your crew land painfully on some of the spikiest clams you’ve ever seen with ringing ears and blinded eyes!

“That…” Sybil sputters, hair splayed all over her face, “That wasn’t a beacon…”

No, you groan, picking yourself off of the rattled-looking raccoon beneath you, it wasn’t. Beacons don’t explode, right?

“Not usually, no.”

Gotcha. Rising to your feet for what must be the fiftieth time today, you brush the sand off your haunches as the ‘beacon’s handiwork slowly becomes visible as the cloud of dirt starts to settle… revealing the CANNON’S INNARDS! Instantly getting over her shell-shock, Sybil scampers over like a kid on Christmas and instantly begins slobbering over the contents!

“Look, Stan!” She announces in a giddy voice, “TUUUUUBES!

Pushing past her, you peer inside yourself and immediately feel a headache coming on–a maze of dark tubes awaits–each one faintly glowing a faint, different color! Giving one of the tubes an idle tap, you look to the rabid geek for assistance. Any clue what this crap does?

“No idea!” She giggles as a manic grin forms on her face! “But if I had to guess…”

Without further explanation, Syb climbs into the mess of pipes and begins tinkering with them! Taking a few steps back for your safety, you feel a familiar orb of fluff take cover behind your leg. Yea, you snort as you stare daggers into the raccoon’s eyes, NOW you want help, huh, TUBBY?!

You get a hiss in response. Yea, real mature!

>CONTD.
>>
File: tuuuubes.jpg (45 KB, 600x663)
45 KB
45 KB JPG
>>5283727
It only takes a few minutes before two deranged blue eyes peek out from amidst the pipes! “OKAY!” Their owner announces, “I think I’ve got it, Stanley!”

Well by all means, you reply, crossing your arms across your chest, spill the beans already! You’ve still got a friggin’ DEMON close by, ya’ know!

“This,” Sybil explains as she taps a series of tubes pulsing with RED light, “Could either be the POWER SUPPLY or the WEAPON FREQUENCY. A surge of MAGIC might make it work harder… or cause it to overload. Who can say?”

You frown. You were hoping she could say, actually!

“Over here is the TARGETING ACCURACY.” She continues, running a finger along a pitted pipe glowing with GREEN energy! “Though it might also be some kind of IFF SYSTEM as well… If you look carefully it appears to be a bit damaged.”

Sure enough, a closer look reveals that the light inside is emitting a few sparks… Not good, maybe!

“No, not good.” Sybil frowns. “It would explain why these cannons are firing so indiscriminately… if we tweak it a little, however…”

“Maybe we could get da’ ‘friendly’ system back online!” Ly concludes before you can get a word in! RUDE!

“And then there’s these...” The Goth concludes, stooping lower into the shadows where a mass of PURPLE PIPES sit. “I traced them all around the cannon and I can’t quite figure out what they do–considering where they are, however, these could be conduits for some kind of-oh!”

Her pale face lights up once more as she discovers something else! Before you can ask what, Syb’s already pointing it out!

“Look, Stanley–a HATCH of some kind! Where do you suppose it leads?”

Hey, you can work with THAT! Before you can investigate, however, the entire cannon lights up as it prepares for another blast! GET OUTTA THERE!

Blinking to your side, Sybil calmly adjusts her bangs as the two of you watch the pipes flash with a blinding light before another cannon shot rocks the hillside!

“Well…” She mutters to herself as you continue to watch the bombardment, “What do you feel like meddling with today, Stan?”

Well…
INVENTORY PASTEBIN UPDATED!

>FIDDLE WITH THE STRENGTH… OR POWER SUPPLY!
>TINKER WITH THE TARGETING SYSTEMS… OR THE FRIENDLY/FOE SYSTEM!
>FUSS OVER THOSE PURPLE PIPES AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
>SCREW IT, JUST CHECK OUT THAT HATCH!
>THIS SEEMS LIKE A RECIPE FOR DISASTER–JUST LET THE CANNON CONTINUE TO DO ITS THING AND LEAVE!
>WRITE-IN!

That's it for tonight--got a late start and it turned even later! Will have more time FRIDAY AROUND 5-6PM PST.
>>
>>5283729
>FUSS OVER THOSE PURPLE PIPES AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
>>
>>5283729
>>FUSS OVER THOSE PURPLE PIPES AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
>>
>>5283729
>FUSS OVER THOSE PURPLE PIPES AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!
>>
>>5283729
>SCREW IT, JUST CHECK OUT THAT HATCH!
>>
>>5283738
>>5283758
>>5283764
>PURPLE PIPES!

>>5283770
>HATCH A DIFFERENT PLAN!

Writing!
>>
File: poweroverwhelming.gif (1.41 MB, 384x384)
1.41 MB
1.41 MB GIF
Try as you might to fight against it, the siren's song of the PURPLE TUBES tugs at your curiosity like the raccoon on your leg! Ow, by the way! Failing to dislodge the flea bitten fuzzball from your pants, so too do you fail to to shake the Mystery of the Purple Tubes, and with a defeated groan you stoop to their level and immediately start fiddling with them!

"Careful, Stan," Sybil warns as if she wasn't just neck-deep in these damn things a few seconds ago, "There's no telling what those tubes contain!"

Exactly, you snap as you rap on the tubes with your knuckles, isn't it exciting?

"Well, yes," The Goth shrugs, her stern face giving way to academic eagerness for a split second, "B-but still: I couldn't figure out what was in there, so-"

So that must make it the COOLEST STUFF, you reason as you rub your MAGIC PRISM against it! Sure enough, the interior of the device reacts almost immediately--its center glowing with a peculiarPURPLE CLOUD!

"Fascinating..." Sybil whispers as she peers over your shoulder. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that was some form of... WILD MAGIC!"

Oh brother, here we go again... poking at the tube with your BONE CLAWS, you raise an eyebrow Syb's way. Is she saying they're pumping that crap all the way to a turret?

"No," She frowns, shaking her head. "Look how the pipes are built." Trying and failing to follow her pale finger along the snaking tubes, you give up almost immediately. Short version, please!

"It LOOPS." Sybil answers with a hint of disappointment in her tone. "But the question is, what's the purpose? Surely enough use would deplete the supply, yes?"

You're just about to send another witty comeback her way when the cannon readies another shot faster than you expected! Startled, your ill-placed BONE CLAW carves a small divot in the tube, filling the surrounding water with plumes of billowing, crackling smoke!
Oh, and you.

"Run, Stan!" Sybil calls, having already blinked to safety! "There's no telling what it'll do!"
You hear her, sure, but as you watch the MAGICAL PRISM fill to the brim with the mysterious power, you also feel something reaching into you--something that starts as a tickle, then grows into something MORE.

"STAN!" Your friend shouts again, "Follow my voice!"

Part of you wants to, but that bit is fading--as you take in the energy, you feel something akin to being hooked up to a dozen car batteries--in a good way! Looking down at your hands, you watch with glee as your skin pulses with otherworldly energy! As the power crackles and courses through your veins, nerves, and flesh, you can barely contain the semi-malevolent cackle that escapes your lips--you... you're AMPED! You're…

"STAN!"

YOU'RE THE FUCKING U N I V E R S E!

>CONTD.
>>
File: powerup.png (138 KB, 480x360)
138 KB
138 KB PNG
>>5284587
The power's almost too much to contain--as the excess magic escapes through your toes and fingers, you feel a sharp pain lingering in the back of your mind, but you can't stop... not... not NOW!

But what do you do?
>BREAK FREE! PERFORMANCE ENHANCERS AIN’T YOUR BAG, BABY!
>BASK IN THE POWER! BASK IN IT, DAMN IT!
>TRY TO COMMAND IT–CHUCK IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE IT BURNS YOU OUT!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5284589
>>TRY TO COMMAND IT–CHUCK IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE IT BURNS YOU OUT!
>>
>>5284589
>TRY TO COMMAND IT–CHUCK IT SOMEWHERE BEFORE IT BURNS YOU OUT!
>>
>>5284626
>>5284655
>COMMAND AND CONQUER!

Writing!
>>
File: stanpow.png (102 KB, 370x318)
102 KB
102 KB PNG
>>5284682
The power… it’s unnatural! Though sparks fly from your teeth and every inch of your skin is pricked by thousands of burning pins, you can’t help but laugh again–you… you’ve got so much juice you don’t even know what to do with it!

Hearing Sybil’s faint voice over the crackling of your newfound power, your brain flips the on and off switch a few times and brings you back to reality. This, uh, this isn’t gonna end well, is it?

Not waiting for a snide remark from Ly, you fight against the rushing flow of energy to regain control over your body, but like trying to chug water from a hose, it isn’t easy!

A target. That’s what you need, you reason. Something to foist it all onto! Closing your eyes in a vain attempt to stop them from burning, you use your SUPERCHARGED NEURONS to invision the bits and pieces you need!

First, there’s the CONDUIT…
>CLAWS!
>EYE LASER!
>BACKUUM!
>WRITE-IN!

Then there’s the TARGET! There’s no telling what this energy will do, but…
>THE CANNON!
>SYBIL!
>LITTLE STANLEY!
>YOURSELF!
>AN ITEM (WHICH ONE?)!
>A HARMLESS CORAL REEF HOME TO A VIBRANT ECOSYSTEM!
>LY!
>THE SEA DEMON!
>THE BOAT WHERE MITZ AND TALBOT ARE!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5284696
>>CLAWS!
>THE SEA DEMON!
>>
>>5284699
+1
>>
>>5284699
>>5284717
>CLAWS!
>SEA DEMON!

I'm gonna grab some dinner for a bit, but before I go...

ROLL ME 3d100--YEA, YOU HEARD ME! I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS! IF YOU HAVE ANY SPECIFIC IDEAS IN MIND, WRITE 'EM IN!
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>5284762

Let's just let ourselves go and go apeshit on this beast.
>>
Rolled 60, 16, 72 = 148 (3d100)

>>5284762
FUCK EM UP
>>
Gonna pick this up SATURDAY AROUND 10-11AM PST, all--getting a bit late on my end. Still waiting on one more 3d100! See ya when I see ya.
>>
Rolled 85, 50, 17 = 152 (3d100)

>>5284696
>>5284840
>>
Rolled 24, 57 = 81 (2d100)

>>5284762
rolling again since >>5284764 only rolled once
>>
File: 1618925909088.gif (90 KB, 785x757)
90 KB
90 KB GIF
>>5284857

I am rarted...I thought it was 3d100s...
>>
>>5285084

I meant 3 1d100s. Dammit.
>>
>>5285084
You're on THIN ICE, buddy!

>>5284790
>>5284852
>>5284857
>HIGHEST ROLL: 152!

Not bad... not bad. Got plans today so updates will be sporadic. That said... WRITING
>>
File: letterrip.png (1.09 MB, 1000x582)
1.09 MB
1.09 MB PNG
By the time your idea hits you, you’re already airborne. Well, seaborne in this case, but that’s not really your focus right now. What is, you quickly determine, is the rapidly-approaching silhouette of theSEA DEMON in the water above!

A sensation akin to a mosquito buzzing your ear causes you to dip to the left just in time to avoid another cannon shot! As it rushes past you towards your target, you take a moment to marvel as the water behind it fizzles before just, well, disappearing. It’s a good thing they aren’t shooting at you right now!

Dodging a few subsequent volleys from the other gun emplacements peeking out of the darkness, it slowly dawns on you that yes, they ARE aiming for you–but the extradimensional beast the size of a mall is a much bigger target, so…

Speaking of, it’s around that point that the mallbeast in question finally notices your approach. Sending a shriek your way that rattles every inch of your body, it tries to intercept you with a few of its countless redwood-sized tentacles! Your FEMININE INTUITION and the muffled screaming of what must be Ly tells you that this is a terrible idea, but the fact that you’re THE FUCKING U N I V E R S E now suggests differently! Gritting your teeth, you dip and weave through the cat’s cradle of spine-lined appendages a few times before remembering your BONE CLAWS! What the hell are you doing all this dodging for?!

Popping them out, you nearly faceplant into a teeth-lined sucker when your weapons emerge longer than fishing poles and crackling with purple energy! Despite their size change, however, they still whistle through the water quicker than ever, and with the guile of a coked-out sushi chef, you intercept one of the beast’s tentacles with a strike of your own–one that carves through the oil-tanker-thick grabber easier than a hot knife through butter!

And boy is it HOT! As you feel your claws cleave through demonic flesh, they leave behind a bubbling, hissing scar radiating with the same purple energy still pumping through you! Whether it’s shocked or in pain, the SEA DEMON recoils a bit as you continue onwards towards its maw-riddled core! Hands OFF, creep!

As you slip past the abomination’s defenses, thousands of mouths open wide to catch you! Your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell of chum, blood, and poor dental care, but egged on by your MAGIC HIGH you stand firm and lead the way with your claws!

>CONTD.
>>
File: seademoneyeskinda.gif (1.98 MB, 498x498)
1.98 MB
1.98 MB GIF
>>5285311
Illuminated by the power coursing through your body, you manage to get a glimpse of your foe–well, one of its mouths, at least. Opening wide enough to engulf an office building, a mass of barbed tongues snake out from the yawning abyss ahead to draw you in! Meeting them with your claws, you take a detour and instead aim for one of the beast’s pitch-black eyes big enough to land a jet on! If it sees what you’re doing, it doesn’t respond–not until you bring both claws back before going SICKO MODE on it!

You meet no resistance. Fueled by the magic, you rip and tear through the fleshy bulb of lens and vitreum like you were opening presents on Christmas! As chunks of flesh drift into the water behind you, the demon writhes in agony as it struggles to dislodge you! Relishing each cut, a shaky giggle escapes from behind your manic grin as you keep digging until you reach the back of the socket!

As you continue carving away, you gradually feel a burning sensation–one more familiar than the burning needles all over your body. Your attacks slow down as your breathing becomes more and more ragged, and with each strike your claws become smaller and slower!

It comes to a head when you feel your heart pounding against the inside of your chest and the burn of lactic acid in your muscles. As a fresh layer of sweat coats your viscera-covered body, you feel gravity, well, the gravity imparted by your SEA CLOAK, at least, pull you downwards once again! Seeing its chance, the DEMON shakes you free of its maimed eye and flees into the shadows with one last bone-shaking shriek!

Where it goes isn’t your problem–not now, at least. It’s leaving, and that’s what matters, right? Feeling an intense fatigue take hold of your entire body, you exchange a look with a very rattled and very puffed-out Lil’ Stanley clinging for dear life onto your chest before everything goes dark.

>CONTD.
>>
File: boatbed.jpg (184 KB, 1440x960)
184 KB
184 KB JPG
>>5285314
“-e’s getting worse.”

Despite their protesting, you lift your heavy eyelids open to find yourself tucked under some sheets with an anchor motif. Too exhausted to even stretch, you lie there listlessly as you recognize where you are: the bed on the yacht.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?”

Through the steady pounding of a lingering migraine, you can just barely hear voices above you–familiar ones.

It’s a w-w-wonder she di-didn’t v-vaporize…

Oh great, NOW your day is ruined. Groaning at the unmistakable nails-on-chalkboard sound of Denise’s voice, you let your head go limp against the pillow underneath it.

“She’s right.” Replies Sybil’s faint voice amidst the clanking of diving equipment around you, “She’s like a sister to me, but… but we need to consider contingencies… just… just in case.”

“In case Stan’s luck finally runs out, right?”

Art. Always the smarty-pants.

“H-hey, we’ve done great so far!”

Eddie.

“Sh-she’s had some close calls, but-”

“Take a cold shower, would ya?” Replies Mitzi in her eternally-calm demeanor. “It’s not about liking her–it’s about making a plan.”

“Well, uh, if we’re submitting applications-”

“Syb, tell dis’ palooka da’ position is gonna need more than brawn.”

Wait, LY?! He’s talking to them?! WITHOUT YOU!?

“Ly believes someone with a cooler head would be better suited to the job.” Sybil relays, earning a round of groans from the crowd above. “And I agree.”

Still weighed down by… whatever happened back there, you fight against the covers and attempt to sit up! This… this is MUTINY!

What’s the play here?

>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
>KEEP LISTENING! NO RUSH!
>LEAVE THE BED AND SPY ON THEIR CONVERSATION!
>CALL SOMEONE DOWN! SOUNDS LIKE THE WHOLE GANG’S HERE! (WHO?)
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5285317
>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
>>
>>5285317
>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
>>
>>5285317
>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
>>
>>5285317
>>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
>>
>>5285317
>GET UP AND CONFRONT THESE DOPES!
I see our comrades have some doubts about who should succeed us. Let us relieve them of these doubts.
>>
>>5285335
>
>>5285369
>>5285394
>>5285498
>>5285653
>CONFRONTATION!

Sorry, all, today's plans went pretty long. Will probably do a short update tonight and pick things up on Sunday!

Writing!
>>
File: mutiny.png (495 KB, 400x602)
495 KB
495 KB PNG
>>5285934
The muscles in your face sting in protest as they contract into a look of complete and utter disdain… well, weary disdain. So that’s how they feel, huh?

Fighting against the tight grip of the covers around you, white-hot throbbing pain courses through your muscles as you rise to a sitting position! Bet BORIS never has this problem! It’s bad enough that your dumbass friends have to talk behind your back, but LY?! Shouldn’t he be, like, pumping food cells into your NDA or whatever? And where’s that deadbeat raccoon of yours? Probably eating all your EMERGENCY TREATS!

It’s not their fault, of course… not COMPLETELY. If this SKELETON APOCALYPSE has taught you anything, it’s that there are ‘DOERS’ and, uh….

SCHMOOERS.’ Yeah, that works.

Well you won’t ‘Stan’ for it, that’s for damn sure! You can barely sit for it! Ow!

Wriggling free of your plush prison isn’t easy–by the time you emerge from the cotton cocoon, you feel like you just finished running ten miles… carrying a TRUCK! As you catch your breath on the edge of the bed, your glare jumps from the deck above to the stairs standing in your way.

Kicking your legs over the side of the bed, you also notice a WINDOW to the right–besides providing an alternative route upstairs, it also provides you with a pleasant view of the sun making its way towards the hori-WAIT, WHA?!

Your arms fight you the whole way as you rub the sleep from your eyes. No matter how many times you clear them, the result is the same: it’s almost SUNSET! Holy cow!

Fueled by renewed drive (and drained by the muscle aches currently wracking your whole body), you prepare to make your grand entrance into your croni-err, FRIEND’S impromptu meeting! They wanna talk leadership? You’ll TALK leadership!

How exactly do you get up to them, though? Go on–LEAD!
>CLIMB THE STAIRS! IT’LL LOOK DRAMATIC AND YOU PROBABLY WON’T BREAK YOUR NECK IF YOU SLIP!
>OUT THE WINDOW FOR MAXIMUM SURPRISE! IF YOU FALL YOUR JERK FRIENDS WILL JUST RESCUE YOU BEFORE YOU DROWN!
>JUMP THROUGH THE FLOOR! NEVERMIND THE LAST ONE–THIS IS MAXIMUM SURPRISE!
>ON SECOND THOUGHT, HAVE THEM COME TO YOU–SHOUT OR SOMETHING!
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5285981
>JUMP THROUGH THE FLOOR! NEVERMIND THE LAST ONE–THIS IS MAXIMUM SURPRISE!
>>
>>5285981
>CLIMB THE STAIRS! IT’LL LOOK DRAMATIC AND YOU PROBABLY WON’T BREAK YOUR NECK IF YOU SLIP!
>>
>>5285981
>JUMP THROUGH THE FLOOR! NEVERMIND THE LAST ONE–THIS IS MAXIMUM SURPRISE!
>>
>>5285991
>>5286037
>MAXIMUM SURPRISE!

>>5286007
>PROBABLY THE LEAST LIKELY TO KILL YOU!

ROLL ME 1d100-20 TO LEAP! +5 BUNNY SUIT, +5 EMU LEGS, -30 FOR FATIGUE :C I'LL TAKE THE BEST OF 3 ROLLS!

Got plans today as well, so I wouldn't expect much activity until around 4-5PM PST. We'll see, though!
>>
>>5286375
Apologies for the double-post, but if there's anything you wanna SAY or DO while dramatically crashing through the floor, WRITE IT IN!
>>
Rolled 67 - 20 (1d100 - 20)

>>5286375
Grab the nearest person by the neck and lift them up, then ask if anyone would like to challenge us for the position.
>>
>>5286521
Close but no cigar. One of you guys needs to come through or we’re gonna look like an idiot. More so than usual.
>>
Rolled 53 - 20 (1d100 - 20)

>>5286375
>>
Rolled 22 - 20 (1d100 - 20)

>>5286375
>>5286382
BOOM SHAKALAKA
>>
>>5286527
>>5286524
>>5286521

feel free to use my shitty edit of this image.
>>
Hey all--plans going a bit long on this end. Expect the next update later tonight around 9-10PM PST or MONDAY early in the AM! Also lol RIP Stan--better start choosing that next main character!
>>
>>5286521
>>5286524
>>5286527
>HIGHEST ROLL: 47!

Stan fucking DIES. Writing!
>>
File: headbump.gif (1.29 MB, 480x360)
1.29 MB
1.29 MB GIF
Rising to your wobbly legs, you sneer defiantly at the low ceiling above you–time to remind these assholes why YOU’RE in charge! Your thighs sting in protest as you crouch down for a jump, but you power through it–you’ve cheated death plenty of times! What’s a little more pain in the pile? As the discussion above grows more heated, a tired grin forms on your face. How’s THIS for an argument?!

Rocketing upwards like a hero straight out of the comics, yo-

When you come to, your head is throbbing from a bump the size of an Easter Egg and your torso is hanging off the side of the bed. Groaning in anguish, you rub the tender spot on your head and immediately regret it–your fingers barely graze it before a sharp, burning pain rushes through your head! OW!

Now dealing with a headache AND crazy muscle fatigue, you resign yourself to your fate just in time to hear a set of bootsteps coming down the stairs.

“Stan?” Whispers their owner as she peeks in from the lounge area, “Are you awake?”

You respond to Sybil with a noncommittal grunt. Unfortunately.

“Oh, erm, good. That’s good.” She replies in a tone split between relief and lingering concern. “And how are we feeling?”

Another grunt.

“I see.” Trotting over to the bed, The Goth gingerly takes a seat at its foot and glances at you with an unsure look on her pale face. “Kiki heard a bump a few minutes ago, but I suppose it was only a dolphin.” Avoiding her gaze, you blow a halfhearted raspberry instead. You heard what they were saying.

“Oh. Yes, I suppose you would.” She sighs, clearly not eager to travel down this path. “I won’t mince words, Stanley: everyone’s, well, everyone’s becoming a bit concerned about you.”

Rolling over with the grace of a drunken walrus, you let the pain add to your look of complete and utter contempt! Why?! You just scared off a demon the size of a minimall, damn it!

“Well yes…” Sybil replies in a diplomatic tone, “Thanks to a conduit of WILD MAGIC you decided to latch onto.” Her voice dips into haughtier territory. “... despite my warnings, as usual.”

Uh, harsh much?

>CONTD.
>>
File: lilstanleybetrayal.jpg (230 KB, 1800x1191)
230 KB
230 KB JPG
>>5287564
Yea, you counter, but look at the results! Besides, you continue, struggling to rise from your corpse-like position, you… you feel like a one million dollars! And you can handle the pain, okay? And you feel like a one million dollars! And you can hand-

“Clearly.” Your friend interrupts, frowning at your choice of responses. “Regardless of how you feel, Stanley, we’ve decided to pursue more proactive actions–after all, talking to you hasn’t worked so far.”

Talking works! Talking works great, you spit! You’re a great listener–she was totally right with what she just said back there, an-

STANLEY.” She snaps, eyes flickering blue for a moment, “In light of recent… close calls, we’ve decided to-”

Like HELL you have! Flopping around the bed in protest, you try your best to knock Syb off with your spastic flailing! You’re still in charge, damn it, an-

LISTEN, DAMN IT!
Syb’s sudden outburst causes you to freeze in place as the nautical-themed decor around the room shakes around you! Taking a deep breath, your friend cautiously continues to speak: “We’ve come too close to fall apart, Stanley, and we’re well aware of how you feel. That said,” she segues, “We, your PARTNERS, have elected to draft some countermeasures in the event that you’re, well…” She pauses to give you a long, hard stare, “Incapacitated.

You don’t respond.

“Nobody’s questioning your strength, Stanley,” your friend sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “And as much as I hate to admit it, your more… ‘creative’ ideas have borne more fruit than not.” Staring out the window at the slowly dipping sun, Sybil lightly pats you on the back. “But planning for the worst won’t hurt anybody.”

She’s talking like you’re already on the way out, you scoff.

“With what we’ve learned about your unique relationship with WILD MAGIC and the LICH’S MARROW, Stanley, that might not be too far off of a guess.” The Goth’s hand gently caresses your back. “We’re not asking you to give anything up, Stanley–we’re just…” Her voice catches a bit at the end of her sentence. “... just trust us. Please.”

You lie there for a moment before speaking up. What happened?

“Before or after you scared away the demon?” Sybil asks. “You fell, of course, thanks to that CLOAK.” She explains, gesturing to the SEA CLOAK she retrieves from her sweater pocket. “I blinked over as fast as I could–luckily your, erm, pet stole your cloak before you landed in a clambed.”

A faint smile forms on your face. Lil’ Stanley… she saved your life, huh?

“No… not really.” Sybil shrugs. “She snatched a bag of QUESTIONABLE MEAT from your pockets and scampered off while you drowned.”

JUDAS!

>CONTD.
>>
File: missionunlocked.jpg (256 KB, 1200x675)
256 KB
256 KB JPG
>>5287567
“Not to worry, we tracked her down.” Says The Goth. Good, you hiss, you’ll deal with her in time! “Still, I barely managed to get you back up to the boat–luckily Mitzi and Talbot were nearby to retrieve us. They even donned SCUBA GEAR and helped bring you back up, not that you recall.”

That explains why you taste salt. Reaching for your COMPANY-ISSUED BLACKBERRY (which still miraculously works), you begin to jot down a new SIDEQUEST: KILL LIL’ STANL-

“Stop it.”

Fine, you snap, you’ll just write it down later anyways!

“I won’t bore you with the rest of the details.” Sybil adds, but you know that’s a damned lie. “Once we were back onboard, we brought you down here to recuperate. I didn’t see anything too alarming, so I let you rest.” She explains. “This bump on your head’s new, though–did y-”

Yea, uh, you stammer, that’s um… From earlier.

“... of course it is.” She replies, her stern look jumping between you and the ceiling. “Talbot and Mitzi got in contact with Art’s team and Denise and Kiki–we assumed you’d want everyone assembled when you woke up.”

Sure, you shrug (painfully), but Kiki and Denise were at the UNIVERSITY– that must have taken-

“Hours, yes.” Sybil frowns. “You were out for a while. And given your demeanor right now,” She continues, “I think you’ll require even more rest, yes?”

You attempt to hoist yourself up on your noodly arms. You can-

“No, Stan, you CAN’T.” Your friend firmly replies. “The LAB will still be there when you’ve had more time to steady yourself–no sense in rushing off and getting yourself killed.”

Fine, you growl, but you aren’t gonna like it!

“This mission doesn’t require you to ‘like it’.” Sybil counters in a big sister’s tone.

Clearly!

>CONTD.
>>
File: bosslead.png (102 KB, 791x412)
102 KB
102 KB PNG
>>5287570
“We’ve been harried by a few MERMAIDS in the last few hours, but with everyone aboard we’ve been able to drive them off.” The Goth points a finger in your face. “So don’t even think of rushing–we can handle things for a little longer.”

Yea, you scoff, they were talking about that, after all…

Stanley.” Sybil groans, looking skyward for guidance, “We’re just planning in case you-”

Become inebriated, you finish in a glum voice. You heard!

“Or if we lose contact with you.” Your friend counters. “Or we need timely guidance. For example: would you prefer we left Kiki and Denise on land?”

You shrug. You were gonna get to that.

“A leader isn’t just the strongest one in the group, Stanley.” Sybil explains. “A leader knows her team’s strengths and weaknesses. Most importantly,” She adds, tousling the hair far away from the goose egg on your head, “They know when to delegate. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Sure, you counter, just let someone else die in your place, right?

Syb recoils in surprise. “Is… is that what this is about?”

You shrug. Nope, apparently it’s about your cronies UNIONIZING! And here you thought you took care of all the commies in that sub!

“You don't even know what communism is, Stan.”

They hate FREEDOM--that's more than enough for you!

>CONTD.
>>
File: promotion.gif (122 KB, 200x146)
122 KB
122 KB GIF
>>5287576
“Well…” Your friend continues, not bothering to dig deeper, “Regardless of how you feel about it, we’ve elected a VICE OFFICER in case y-”

Are they dumb or what!? You already have your officer, damn it! Lil’ Stan-

“The raccoon, Stan?” Sybil snaps, clearly running low on patience, “The one that left you to die for some rancid meat?”

You respond with a few blinks. Well, you mutter, we all have our vices-

“We’ve discussed it for a while, Stanley, and we’ve made a decision that will make us all a bit more comfortable.” Sybil concludes, waving away your statement. “Well… somewhat comfortable, at least.”

Well go on, you growl, spill the beans already! Who’s getting a PROMOTION, huh?

“Well…” Sybil begins,

>ART. THE TEAM REQUIRES A COOLER HEAD TO BALANCE YOURS OUT.
>SYBIL. A GOOD BLEND OF POWER AND IDEAS IS KEY.
>MITZI. HER COMPOSURE WILL KEEP EVERYONE ALIVE.
>EDDIE. HIS ENTHUSIASM IS MATCHED ONLY BY HIS HEART FOR THE TEAM.
>TUCKER. WHAT HE LACKS IN STRENGTH HE MAKES UP FOR IN STRATEGY.
>KIKI. STILL WATERS RUN DEEP. BEHIND THAT QUIET EXTERIOR LIES STRENGTH AND SMARTS.
>GUS. STRENGTH. COMPOSURE. GUS IS A ROCK THAT STABILIZES THE REST OF THE TEAM.
>TALBOT. HE’S SIMILAR TO YOU IN QUITE A FEW WAYS, BUT HE HAS THE DURABILITY AND ABILITIES TO BACK IT UP. USUALLY.
>WRITE-IN!
>>
>>5287578
>>TALBOT. HE’S SIMILAR TO YOU IN QUITE A FEW WAYS, BUT HE HAS THE DURABILITY AND ABILITIES TO BACK IT UP. USUALLY.

Hard pick, but if anyone is strong enough to take down Stan on a roid-rage it's Talbot.
>>
>>5287578
>SYBIL. WE KNOW FOR A FACT SHE WON'T LEAVE US FOR A PIECE OF MEAT
>>