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It's a post-apocalyptic future where everybody is so twisted and mutated by nuclear radiation that they've all been conscripted into the freak shows of wandering circus ringleaders. Quark's indecisive nature comes because he's actually a pair of twins conjoined at the head by a thin, fleshy vein; one of them keeps the other wadded up into a ball inside his hat.
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# ¿ Nov 24, 2013 19:24 |
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# ¿ Apr 27, 2024 16:08 |
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This explains everything -- Alice picked Betray because she was about to freeze to death and needed a smelly college student to scream angrily at her at point blank range until his sweaty breath brought her body heat back up into the safe zone. Disgusting, but necessary, since she removed all the heating elements in her necklace to jury-rig a tiny particle accelerator and use it to synthesize antimatter for a bunch of loving bombs.
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# ¿ Jan 7, 2014 04:23 |
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Fedule posted:Please direct your attention to the results screen. She didn't even come out of the AB room to watch Sigma die The least she could do is sneak up behind him, rip off his shirt, and put it on in front of him while calmly explaining that he won't need it anymore. Then announce that she's the new Sigma and make a bunch of off-color cat puns before pulling the Number Nine lever. Pittsburgh Lambic fucked around with this message at 01:51 on Jan 30, 2014 |
# ¿ Jan 30, 2014 01:46 |
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GilliamYaeger posted:Well according to him, he hauls junk around for a living. That probably involves lifting a lot of heavy things. Underneath that button-up shirt is a hulking set of pecs and abs that would make any Grandpa Video star weep in shame. Tenmyouji's ending is just him ripping off his shirt, followed by an anguished, despair-laden scream from the onlooking Zero Jr. and a series of antimatter explosions across the facility. Pittsburgh Lambic fucked around with this message at 03:44 on Mar 13, 2014 |
# ¿ Mar 13, 2014 03:42 |
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Okay, so the path to identifying the mad bomber is the same one where we got to talk to Alice and failed to find any long strings of numbers. That's what I'm getting from this anyway. Of course, we still haven't found any long strings of numbers since then so we're hosed anyway. To elaborate, the images appear to be, in sequence:
There's two images at the end that don't seem to fit, though. Pittsburgh Lambic fucked around with this message at 20:13 on May 29, 2014 |
# ¿ May 29, 2014 20:01 |
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Nagna Zul posted:I haven't played this game at all, so this is all speculation, but something makes me suspicious of Sigma. He has this dumb gimmick where he makes cat-based puns uncontrollably. I don't really see the correlation, personally. For Sigma it's just a tic that happens under very specific circumstances; for Zero it seems to be part of a concerted effort to annoy the gently caress out of everyone.
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# ¿ Jul 7, 2014 18:20 |
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Waffleman_ posted:So is Snake. If "being idolized by untold multitudes of hipster trash" can be considered okay. Still though, it sounds like he's handling himself decently. He probably taught himself the harp just to thumb his nose at fate with his remaining good hand.
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# ¿ Apr 10, 2015 01:59 |
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Spoilers: The game is all an extended hallucination experienced by Seven as he's taking an incredibly painful poo poo. There's actually a really complicated backstory leading up to this. I won't bother with all the details, but two years after the events of 999, Seven was touring the United States in a nasty utility van and had found his way into central Arkansas. He had stopped at the Wal-Mart in some town whose name you'll never remember to restock on toilet paper and fish bait and was leaving with a full cart when he saw someone in the parking lot selling foil-covered packages out of the back of their station wagon. Upon investigation, he discovered that the items for sale were rabbit tamales, freshly-cooked that morning and just $3.00 a dozen. More importantly, the tamale vendor was quite fetching and Seven felt compelled to put on a show of manliness, so he purchased nine dozen tamales and wolfed them down on the spot a fistful at a time. He didn't remove the husks, not knowing you're supposed to do that when you eat tamales, but the tamale vendor didn't say anything. As it so happened, the tamale vendor was Snake, who was staked out on a completely unrelated deep-cover operation for the CIA and was rather unimpressed by Seven's display. The tamales were also manufactured by the CIA out of mostly cheap cornmeal and mechanically separated chicken, and were wrapped in wax paper that had been drawn on to resemble corn husks. Fast forward nine hours and Seven's had to pull over and go running off into the woods as fast as he can while staying tightly clenched. At the edge of a forest clearing he found a convenient little wooden outhouse, the kind so that's so ancient and cliched that it really does have a crescent moon carved in the door. That hole is the only source of light Seven has, and provides quite a lovely view of the sky; Seven can even see the full moon glimpsed through that tiny opening. He's pretty sure the moon isn't supposed to be a horrible blood-red, but he can't tell if that's because of a lunar eclipse or if the hellish agony in his bowels has tinted his vision. He really has been in there for awhile, as if time itself has slowed to a sixth of its normal speed while he struggles to evacuate. All is silent, save for Seven's thunderous howls of pain, answered occasionally by a handheld bear call in the hands of some redneck who's out poaching a couple miles away. When Seven isn't staring up desperately into the sky through his tiny, moon-shaped portal to the outside world, his eyes are on an enigmatic phrase scratched into the door. "MEMENTO MORI. IF THE NINETH LION ATE THE SUN" doesn't actually mean anything, having been left there years ago by a mentally ill man who had escaped his handlers, but Seven doesn't know that. Trying to find anagrams or pretend that the phrase has some deep meaning at least keeps his mind off the pain for a bit. It's a long loving night for poor Seven, after all. Pittsburgh Lambic fucked around with this message at 04:25 on Jul 7, 2015 |
# ¿ Jul 7, 2015 04:16 |
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Just noticed something about the last update(s):Fedule posted:
Conjunctions like this really do occur about once every two years -- in fact, we just had one, from June 7 to June 21. NASA's Mars rovers had gone out of contact for the duration of it. Excellent timing! Pittsburgh Lambic fucked around with this message at 23:31 on Jul 7, 2015 |
# ¿ Jul 7, 2015 23:29 |
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# ¿ Apr 27, 2024 16:08 |
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Opposing Farce posted:Do we know what he's actually studying? I think we've only been told he's pursuing a PhD. He's a very particular type of doctor-in-training. The Hospital Jester is a relatively new position in the field of medicine and is has a number of responsibilities to fulfill at your local medical institution. When not making cat puns at the terminally ill until he forces a weak, resigned smile out of them, Sigma can be found sneaking up behind your favorite head surgeon and interrupting his work with an enormous wedgie in order to lighten the mood during the longest, most stressful operations.
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# ¿ Aug 22, 2015 04:57 |