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Barnaby Profane
Feb 23, 2012



BORIS

Boris inhales deeply, drops to one knee, and exhales slowly into the earth. Almost immediately, tendrils of purple smoke climb languorously out of the cracks in the earth, snaking up towards the nostrils of the two goons in armour.

"Those things in your ears -- what music do you hear?"

Hallucinations: 4dF+5 4 Tagging Pops's All That Jazz to make it 6.

Boris is attempting to cause the goons to hallucinate that their bluetooth headsets have transformed into miniature brass bandstands blaring jazz into their heads.

Also, can I attack more than one person at a time? If not, Boris will focus on the more distant gun guy.

Passing initiative to The Profit!

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Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


The Profit

The Profit charges into the fray around Pops, engaging the clawed woman hand to hand. He throws punches with speed and rhythm, blocking and counterattacking simultaneously as the creature slashes at him, his limbs moving in a constant flow. The two combatants weave through the field as the fight. The creature spies an opening, and slashes at the Profit's face - but he ducks it, leaning over backwards almost until his fro touches the ground, then he whips back up and grabs her arm, sending her spinning towards the a chasm opened by Boris' inexorable wall of sound.

"This is tiger style" The Profit charges in as his opponent tries to keep balanced on the edge of disaster, both fists lashing out in a powerful blow. "The Riza sends his regards!"

Attacking the clawed one.
[23:23] <Krysmbot> Gorbash, ---++4 = 2
Invoking for a reroll off of Swallowing Chasms of Doom
[23:23] <Krysmbot> Gorbash, /+--+4 = 3
Ugh. I'll use an FP to invoke The Abbot's Star Pupil to make it a 5.
If it connects somehow its W:2.

Let's throw it to Robert

AlanWhats
Mar 3, 2013

A smartly dressed scientist robot: high five bro.


Robert Johnson
FP: 3


Oh that poor fool did not just try and punch him in the face just now. He didn't even try and punch Robert all that well. For god's sake, Robert has seen drunks who were flailing on the ground in an unconscious stupor that were more accurate and more competent fighters than this guy! He's even fought some of them in return!

Robert's blood was beginning to officially boil now. He whipped out the revolver by his side, clearing leather and aiming down the sights right between the mutated dumbass's beady little eyes. With a quick flick of his thumb, the hammer cocked back, ready to slam down on the lead and gunpowder gavel. "Bang bang bang bang." CRACK! CRACK, CRA-CRACK! With a simple rhythm and beat, Robert fires off four bullets straight at the creature. He's playing for keeps.

First things first: athletics to laugh at the poor meathead that just whiffed. <Krysmbot> AlanWhats, //+/+3 = 4

And now Combat to shoot the guy in the hea-Krysmbot no <Krysmbot> AlanWhats, --+-+3 = 1

Growling Inquisitor Blues and no Krysmbot this is not what I wanted <Krysmbot> AlanWhats, -///+3 = 2

So uh, if he was somehow able to shoot the dude in the face, he also gets a Weapon:2.

Tempus Rimeblood
Sep 23, 2007

...Friendship? Again?

The Shores of the L'Thium - We Can Plant A House, We Can Build A Tree

As the army of people set to work, their minds cleansed and their fears assuaged by Rane's performance, they still chatter away to themselves.

"I wonder what the Queen's going to say about this."

"Hell, I wonder what the Vitalogue's going to say. This land is his strength."

As they continue to clean the area, repairing what they can, a woman in a torn white plaid dress looks on at you all from the distance, her eyes shadowed and a veil covering her face. She stumbles away, hurriedly, as though wounded or ill, but desperate to get to where she needs to be.

Sophia, your loyal speaker comes up to you again. "That's the Queen, the Wishkah's bride. I don't know where she's off to, but it can't be good."

The Rooster Wards - All My Rivals Will See What I Have In Store

The brawler in the suit goes down screaming, blood dripping from his eyes and ears from Boris' mental assault!

"They didn't tell us it would be like this! The Weathered Man said he'd save us! gently caress this fuckin' bullshit, man, ain't no bunch of fuckin' weirdos gonna stop us!" he cries, collapsing and breathing his last as a strange, liquified greyish-brown matter, the obvious remains of his pitiful brain, leak out of his nostrils.

Unfortunately, they count as two seperate enemies, but on the other hand you've succeeded with style, killing your target!

Meanwhile, the Profit's impetuous style connects with great success against the mutated woman, his throw casting her deep into the abyss within the earth. There is a scream, distantly fading, and then nothing. The other mutants seem to subconsciously shy away from the Profit, having seen his hustle and flow.

That's also a success with style!

Robert Johnson, as well, is a lucky man. The beast zigs when it should have zagged, the first bullet catching it in the leg and spinning it into the path of the other bullets. Blood spatters the ground, and the bestial form gives one last spasm before dying.

Robert Johnson also succeeds at killing his target, but only barely. (+2 defense vs. +2 attack.)

The last of the meatheads shakes its head viciously, pounding the ground, and then flings itself at the Profit, as though to try to avenge the death of its comrade. It misses, however, tumbling and skidding to a stop.

(11:52:45 PM) Krysmbot: TempusRimeblood, ---/+1 = -2. These things are just sad and pathetic.

And, finally, the gunner spins, readying her fire on the bluesman, barking into her Bluetooth headset.

"We can't sustain these specimens! Alter their neural makeup in the vats, we need them to be more coordinated!" Her words are slurred, and her face is beginning to...slip, would be the best term for it. Her muscles spasm, finger squeezing the trigger repeatedly as one arm swells and bursts out of her suit sleeve. Clearly, she's devolving into a monstrosity just like the others you fought.

"No...no..." she says, Bluetooth headset breaking into a million pieces and flying off of her ear. "I passed Sorority Week. I went to the right bars. I saw all the shows. I even groupied for the Silverside! No, no, please, I can't go back to that..."

She aims the gun at the bluesman, squeezing the trigger again, but the bullets ping harmlessly off a wall behind him.

It misses you harmlessly with a 0. Pidgin is being weird and not letting me copy the textblock.

Initiative passes to Boris.

Barnaby Profane
Feb 23, 2012



BORIS

More purple smoke billows out of the sinkhole into which the SUV had fallen, forming strange, angular shapes and gradually resolving into a terrifying crawling metal beast, like a Truckasaurus except with an SUV for a head, billowing smoke and flames and emitting horrendous metallic screeches. It towers over the gunner, roaring and clawing at the shattered earth as it pulls itself from the sinkhole.

SUVasaurus hallucinatory attack: 4dF+5 4

Pass to Robert Johnson!

AlanWhats
Mar 3, 2013

A smartly dressed scientist robot: high five bro.


Robert Johnson
FP: 3


Robert Johnson hardly even blinked as the mutating woman's spastic gunshots. He just simply slammed the revolver cylinder back into place, the red hot empty casings scattering across the grime covered pavement. Robert Johnson was grinning from ear to ear. He hardly even had to do anything at this point; these fools were practically born over their head, torn from dead sterile flesh vats and choked with a locket around their necks to a power they couldn't hope to understand. As he saw the arm bulge and twist to match the strange specimens around him, he could feel the sound inside her mass-produced soul breaking its rusty cage, chords grown teeth and claws and broken nails. The song was seeking vengeance for all of the abuse done to its kind, and all Robert Johnson needed to do was give it that little extra energy, that mana, that offering to finish the job.

And so Robert Johnson took his guitar back in his hand, and started to calmly play. His smile like a razor cut, he looked to the woman with the eyes of one seeing the one who murdered their family before their eyes, and anticipating the moment which life is to be wrung from their necks. "Oh, but you will little schoolgirl. You and all your little friends thought you could play the spirits like they were little plastic toys, you poor blind fools. Your Father is calling, dear, and you failed to listen. Your curfew's up, it's time to pay the price. Take comfort though little darling, your soul will go easier on you than I would."

With a single chord, the spirit strikes. Spine bends like a bowstring, muscles ripple and spasm until they tear and thrash like pinned fish, limbs slither like snakes until they begin to wrap and constrict, nails turned to iron bars as they dig into whatever they can grab. The gun barrel parts and starts snarling, pointed upward as the spider limbs of possessed fingers pull back the hammer one last time.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, the spirit whispers. I'm gonna shoot you right down.

Just gonna attack with Blues, sit back, and enjoy the show <Krysmbot> AlanWhats, -/+/+5 = 5

PROFIT! Your verse.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


The Profit

The Profit rolls his head from one shoulder to the other, working out the crick in his neck as he almost casually saunters over to the last meathead. He sizes it up, tilts his head back as light plays off his shades. He shakes his head, disappointed. "You missed. A chance like that, and you missed."

Then his hand whips out and connects with the skull of the mutant, almost a dismissive gesture if not for the concentrated force behind it. He turns around as what's left of the creature slump to the ground, content to watch the others finish things while he lights a new joint.

My attack boost will be Tigah Style, of course.

Defend, and get a boost. Let's call it Best Not Miss.
[18:45] <Krysmbot> Gorbash, -/-++4 = 3

Attacking the last of the meatheads. What the heck, let's tag both boosts and make it an 8!
[18:46] <Krysmbot> Gorbash, -+-++4 = 4

Tossing it to Pops.

Error 404
Jul 17, 2009


MAGE CURES PLOT

ARTIF.EXE - The Shores Of The L'Thium
4FP


Noticing the veiled woman in white, Artif.exe unslings the WUB and activates the scanner for a better look.
"Uh, guys? Check out the weird lady over-" Just then the woman bolts, "WAIT!" Artif.exe shouts, taking off from her companions and chasing the woman in white.

Don't know if I should roll anything, so I'm just going with it.

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018


Pops

Ah geez, I totally missed this! Mea culpa.

Pops lowers his trumpet, staring at the woman-becoming-a-monster. "Oh, girl, you don't even understand what you been doin', do you. Got some bad news for you, child. Them as takes but doesn't understand...they still pay the price." He shakes his head sadly, then raises his horn one more time. He plays out another blast, a rattling and chilling tune to shake the woman's bones and soul.

6 on my attack. Sorry this took me so long! I think that's it on our side, though?

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009



Sophia

There is never a good time for letting opportunity pass by. "Ok, grab the 5 best fighters you have and let's be after her! Let the rest work, the land is more important than some petty queen, yes?" Sophia smiles. "Come on! Let's see what this monarch is made of!"

Tempus Rimeblood
Sep 23, 2007

...Friendship? Again?

The Rooster Wards - Hear The Sirens

The last once-living creature slumps to the ground, flesh continuing to twist and mutate despite having no discernible life left in it, before rapidly decomposing into a puddle of goo that smells acrid, of stale beer and cheap perfume.

The Rooster Wards fall silent once again, the heavy night settling in in the tenements and slums. The people look at you, something new in their eyes - hope, as they scurry back to their homes and their families.

The priest in purple is gone now - in his place, the skull of a dog, an arrow engraved on it and placed to point down an alleyway. It's a miracle the ensuing fracas hadn't disturbed it, but such miracles seem almost commonplace in a land where men control nature and the souls of the dead can bring powerful blasts.

The streets slowly still, fissures in the ground beginning to heal, like rough scars in the cracked pavement. In the distance, almost in one's soul, you can hear a scream, a nasal wail that sounds like anguish and nausea and a strange, drug-fueled depression.

Good job, guys! The enemies are pasted, you're all free to go and do as you will!

The Shores of the L'Thium - And They Run To Hunt You Down

Sophia, her 5 best fighters (not much to look at really, they're little more than kids), and ARTIF.EXE take off after the Queen, who's leading them on a merry chase through the forest.

Or...what would be the forest, at least, as she hits the massive swath of devastation that ARTIF.EXE wrought. Shrieking with fear, she runs forward through the open area, hands flailing at her side as she casts her magic. Bright pink hearts rise from the ground, eclipsed by wrapping and constricting thorns dripping with black ichor. The hearts shrivel, bleeding acid blood onto the earth, but remain as obstacles to your pursuit.

"You won't take me! You won't take ME!" she screams, running forth and casting another spell to open massive holes in the earth that she leaps over, a floating needle soaring up under her like a witch's broom as she takes flight.

Sophia, 5 NPCs, and ARTIF.EXE! Here is the first phase of your challenge!

Circumnavigate the holes [+4]
Avoid the poisonous hearts [+5]

Distance Tracker: O O O

You have two passes to get through them! Also, Sophia, I'm gonna say your five NPCs are going to count as ablative +1 tags! If one dies, you can take a +1 to that roll!


The Shores of the L'Thium - Turned My World To Black

Rane, however, finds something far more sinister. One of the citizens, trying to fish a large branch out of the lake, seems to spasm, and keels over dead. The water begins to turn darker, and another person, this one a child, shouts in pain before dropping dead himself. People gather around, trying to ascertain what's caused this, and they give a collective gasp of shock. One of them, brave enough to approach you, tugs at your sleeve.

"Miss, I think you need to look at this," she says, gesturing over to the shore of the lake. At the child's foot is broken glass, a bottle of some kind, filled with a liquid blacker than the night itself. It festers around the cuts in the child's foot, and some of it has gotten into the lake.

"I think...I think someone's trying to poison the land," she says. "By the Loving Mother, what will this do to the Vitalogue?"

Tempus Rimeblood fucked around with this message at Aug 29, 2014 around 04:38

Error 404
Jul 17, 2009


MAGE CURES PLOT

ARTIF.EXE - The Shores Of The L'Thium
2FP


Artif.exe triggers the WUB's scanners to do a ground pulse sonar, and revealing the more stable areas and highlighting a (relatively) safer path for her to lead Sophia through the destruction in pursuit of the Queen.

"Alright, follow me. Closely. And try to keep the queen in sight." she calls out to Sophia and her followers.

Overcoming the Hazards 11
Spent 2 FP +4
Notice +5
Targeting Scanner +1
4df+10

Distance Tracker: X X O

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.


The Profit

The Profit stands up from his fighting stance, wipes his hands off, then shakes the sleeves back into place before tugging his jacket back into place with one practiced motion. The ever present sneer on his lips looks downright amused. "If that's the best they've got, this is going to be boring." The Macklemur hops down and scurries over to the skull, picking it up and examining it excitedly - until the Profit yanks it out of his grasp and holds it up. The small primate hoots furiously and drums its fists on the Profit's leg, not that it attracts any notice. Realizing no one is paying it any mind, the Macklemur crosses its arm and huffs in a pout.

The Profit turns the skull over in his hands, then looks at the others. "Looks like we were left an invitation. I ain't gonna turn it down." He nods, and starts down the alley way, sauntering with insouciant confidence.

AlanWhats
Mar 3, 2013

A smartly dressed scientist robot: high five bro.


Robert Johnson
FP: 3


Robert Johnson grinned the devil's grin. As the mound of flesh burst into an open pustule of beer and plastic, Robert burned the end of a cigarette. These sinners were hardly even worth the time and bullets to put them down. A quick pendulum swing and his guitar was at rest once more, the strings humming a light, happy, relieved tone as they brush against the breeze. "Even in death, the sinner spits upon the children. May the broken cocoons of your souls be burned in the Lord of Flies' mantle, you piece of poo poo mongrels." He emphasizes it with a swift kick to the leg of one of the mutated thugs, moments before it oozes into a puddle of liquid yeast.

Robert looked to the others in his impromptu band. Indeed, the song inside their souls proved to be true, but in ways that still managed to surprise him. The Profit, standing in the circle of the chaos as a tornado, flinging the wretches aside like paper: Pops, standing tall and holding the line, and with a confident breath blasting those who thought they could touch him: most surprising of all, Boris, the one who shook the earth with a chord, the one who brought things from the realm of hallucination into such striking reality. He gave a nod to the Profit, patted Pops's shoulder as he walked alongside him, and called out to Boris. "Well I do say, Weed Priest, you certainly know how to put on one helluva show. I might have to swing by your skiff sometime, see what spirits you speak consult."

Barnaby Profane
Feb 23, 2012



BORIS
FP: 4

As the cracks in the earth knit themselves back together, Boris took his old, weathered hands away from the strings of his bass and slung the weighty guitar around to his back. He regarded the bluesman with rheumy eyes and gave the gunslinger a respectful nod. In a somnolent tone, he replied, "All who willingly accept the weedian sacrament are welcome aboard my ship. The blues you wield stem from immensely ancient power of which I have only a cursory understanding. If you would like to probe the unknown depths of this power, then once we have cleansed this Modernerok taint from the land I could prepare for you a vision quest ritual, if you would wish to further explore your potential."

Boris kneels near the dog skull on the ground, inspecting it for any irregularities, and frowns slightly at the inscribed arrow. "This seems about as unambiguous a message as we could hope for from these dog priests, but we have no cause to trust them yet. Let us proceed cautiously." Boris treads carefully after the insouciant Profit.

K Prime
Nov 4, 2009



Sophia

"Overkill again, my young friend! Try a little restraint and intelligence!" Sophia raises her voice at the fleeing figure. "HEY! WHY DO YOU FLEE? ARE YOU SO WEAK THAT YOU CANNOT FACE A MERE 6 ON YOUR OWN GROUND!? COWARD! NO WONDER YOUR OWN PEOPLE TURN ON YOU!"

KPrime, -++/+5 = 6 Provoke to close the distance by upsetting her into stopping to retort!

Rather Watch Them
Mar 28, 2012

Don't worry loves! NEED A CAVALRY HERE!


Rane

She dismounts the + and approaches the hazard cautiously, mic stand in hand. "Sickening." The only word she thought of at the time.

She slowly extends the mic stand to scoop up one of the shards. "Grant, get the decontamination unit."

"But Mistress, that's only f--"

"Now, Foster!"

"...Yes, Mistress." He steps out of the car, heads around to the trunk and picks up an empty glass box with a white vacuum-locked lid, which comes open with a twist and a *pfft*.

Rane tweaks the mic stand around until she scoops up some of the vile liquid on the shard of glass, then gingerly turns the stand around to drop into the decon box. "Careful now. It's poisonous."

"No poo poo, Mistress."

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Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder
2014-2018


Pops

With delicacy and care, Pops lowers his trumpet, kneeling and putting it in its case. He takes a long, slow breath. He'll pay for that fight later, to be sure...but for now, Legato hasn't demanded too much. He locks the case with two sharp clicks.

"All y'all did right well there. I'm glad to fight beside you. Don't know 'bout no vision quests, though. My concern's maybe a bit more immediate right now."

Pops grins, looking at the skull, then the alley.

"Wouldn't be the first time I walk into a trap knowin' it might be one. But then...ah, well, that's a story for later. If it is a trap, it's more subtle'n I give Modernerok credit for."

He heads down the alley as well, adjusting his hat.

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