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Suddenly, the ground underneath Murdella and the servitors rustles. about two meters to their left, on tile 16-V, a muffled, scroungy squelching sound can be heard. After a brief moment of stillness, a high pressured geyser of brownish green industrial runoff spurts out of the hole propelling with it a hideous, ragged, practically zombified lump of melty, pink flesh, with a matted, slime-slicked orange beard and a warty, turgid schnozz. Immediately behind it, another shape sputters out. This one little more than a congealed mass of greenish brown effluvium, molded into the crude shape of a twisted tiny, hosed up person, wedged awkwardly inside a set of fatigues. "CHUGGO!" The bearded, scrunty abomination screams This lovely beast shouts out, "MRRRRAAGGHGHHHGHH!! oval office! FEKKIN HURTS. FUCKIN, KILL ALL 'EM FEKKIN FUCKS. PEW PEW, K'SHING! " ( this is a successful GET THEM! Order) "KILL'M, CLUNGE, " Chuggo gibberss, initiating a Close Quarters action with the sack of jelly that passes for his comrade. roll: 56, target 75. Hit. Chuggo hacks into the servitors, doing 19 damage, a righteously furious blow against the foe's of scruntkind! The servitor's chest is all hosed up with most of its skin gone and it's internal wiring and tubing exposed. (It will be stunned for one round, and needs to roll toughness +0 or experience Blood Loss. But lets be real here I probably just killed it) Chuggo then moves closer to Murdella, putting himself between her and the survivng servitor. and out of the line of fire of the entrenched Guardsmen. "Murdella, Yer... yer real fine lookin' in the robbit goo 'n the laser beams. How 'bout a date, later? Maybe we get a little scrunty under th' bleachers? We cin watch th' big scruntball game?. Wen these fekkin robots n' poo poo are dead? Chuggo waggles his eyebrows and flashes his most seductive grin. Can love bloom on an active battlefield, while still locked in melee combat with at least one killer robot??? (at least can Murdella owe Chuggo a favor?) Chuggo Wounds 12/12 Fate 3/3 code:
Liquid Dinosaur fucked around with this message at 06:30 on Nov 27, 2016 |
# ¿ Sep 24, 2016 03:10 |
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# ¿ Apr 30, 2024 11:55 |
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Chuggo Wounds: 12/12 Fate Points: 3/3 "YEA FINE SHADDUP! HEY, FACK YOU, Y' FOOKIN ROBBIT." Trapping the servitor between him and his goo-boy, Chuggo swings his crud-choked chainsword at the servitor (target: 45+20+10=75) Result, 38 It connects, dealing 19 damage! And oh my lord he loving did it again! doing 4 points of critical damage to the hapless robot, spilling slippery robo-blood all over the floor, just like with his robo-brother. Liquid Dinosaur fucked around with this message at 03:03 on Oct 11, 2016 |
# ¿ Oct 9, 2016 15:41 |
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CHUGGO Wounds: 12/12 Fate: 3/3 Chuggo charges towards the soldiers behind the sandbag, screaming "SHOOT TH' 'UMANS WHILE I'M RUNNIN AT 'EM!'", effectively issuing a "Covering Fire" order. And succeeds, thanks to his skill at commanding a bunch of idiots to do things. Everyone's comrades will now satisfactorily provide +10 to dodge. As his sticky friend shoots, Chuggo scampers as fast as he can towards Squad 4, scruntiy clambering over sandbags like some kind of feculent spider, and leaps at the soldiers in a Brutal Charge. It connects with his torso, inflicting 14 damage, and while Righteous, it did not cause any especially special side-effects. At least until the sword's mysterious toxins enter his bloodstream.... ------------------------------------------------------------------- http://orokos.com/roll/448878: Command+20 Sweeping Order: 42 target 57. http://orokos.com/roll/448883: To hit: 42, target 75 http://orokos.com/roll/448885: Damage: 9+2+3=14 http://orokos.com/roll/448890: Righteous Fury: 1. Critical 1 for rending to torso actually does nothing if their torso is armored. Otherwise it does 1 level of fatigue. DJT can you please test this guy's Toughness -10 to see if he hallucinates? Liquid Dinosaur fucked around with this message at 03:42 on Oct 24, 2016 |
# ¿ Oct 24, 2016 03:36 |
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Chuggo Wounds: 12/12 Fate points: 3/3 Chuggo finishes off the final trooper with his sawn-off shotgun. Then, sensing the Valkyrie's important despite arriving in the midst of the battle to claim it, he clambers on top of it, attempting to stomp out out the flames with his fancy rubber DOOM boots, hoping juices he is suffused with aren't too flammable. Chuggo tests agility to see if he can help put it out http://orokos.com/roll/450775: Target 40. Result 50. He cannot. Unless there was some sort of modifier, or it's cinematic. Liquid Dinosaur fucked around with this message at 13:45 on Oct 31, 2016 |
# ¿ Oct 29, 2016 05:13 |
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Chuggo thinks back to the recent past. To a vague time filled with pain and floatiness and dim green light emanating from the goo all around him. Moving in directions he could not tell or care about as he was flushed through the byzantine pipes and slurry drains. He remembers a catwalk slightly above him at one point, and a mounted plaque reading "IN CASE OF FIRE: STOP, DROP, AND ROLL." He could barely comprehend the words then, his eyes stinging from sludge, and his brain and mind deforming and reforming. But now it was clear. Chuggo drops down and rolls on the top of the valkyrie to smother the flames with his body. He rolls over and over again until he finally succeeds. Narratively.
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# ¿ Oct 31, 2016 15:53 |
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Chuggo Wounds: 12/12 Fate points: 3/3 Chuggo roots through the boxes in the plane's cargo hold, looking for something useful. He pauses at a brick-sized metal thing with bits and bobs and dials on it. He hits it on the wall. He suddenly slams against the far wall of the ship. Curious, he stuffs the box down his pants. ---------- Chuggo gets a Best Craftsmanship Displacer Field, which has a protection rating of 55, will only overload on a roll of 01, and upon absorbing a hit will, the user scatters 3d10 meters from starting point. If all three dice come up the same value, gain 1 Corruption point and return 1d5 rounds later. If surprised, the player may not act the round they return. Liquid Dinosaur fucked around with this message at 06:57 on Nov 13, 2016 |
# ¿ Nov 6, 2016 06:18 |
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Chuggo Wounds: 12/12 Fate points: 3/3 Despite all of the explosions and excitement, Chuggo had been feeling introverted, content to merely quietly gibber to himself as his comrades averted death and disaster on their own through means beyond his comprehension. But the slight whiff of acrid chemicals snapped him back into awareness. "PISS! PISS CHEMS! LIKE PISS, BUT NOT PISS! I GO. INVESTI.....INVES...........CHUGGO GO FIND." With that, Chuggo begins to attempt to vibrate himself between a narrow crack in a damaged bulkhead in the direction of the mysterious smell.
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# ¿ Jan 2, 2017 23:53 |
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[quote="Liquid Dinosaur" post="467922338"] Chuggo Wounds: 12/12 Fate points: 3/3 Chuggo suddenly rouses himself from his long stupor, loudly blinking as he surveys his surrounding, finding strange metal men wearing stylish coats all around him. He had been almost completely catatonic for Scuntperor knows how long, and honestly does not even remember how he got where he is now, or why they are fighting these things. He briefly notes to try and review his short term memories after he has had a chance to get back into sorts by killing poo poo. He lets out a snort and a giggle and fires his gun in the general direction of a nasty. NAUTRAL FECKIN' 00. An unpleasant noise and sound belches forth from his lovely shotgun. Without giving it much thought he charges at the Flayed One on P-23. Aaaaand, he completely misses the loving thing lodging his crusty, moist chainsword directly into the floor next to it. Get it together, dipshit! He yanks the sword out of the floor tiles, looking between his sword and the robot, trying to make sense of why the former is not inside the latter. -------- Chuggo tried to shoot a Flayed One, failing and jamming his gun. He then charged at the P-23 Flayed One and missed his attack.
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# ¿ Apr 3, 2017 07:18 |
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# ¿ Apr 30, 2024 11:55 |
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Chuggo looks out at the hellish wasteland, this vast desolation he played a small part in bringing about. He holds his head in his hands, struggling to find the words. He finally manages to eke out, in a small and impossibly articulate voice, "God bless us, everyone."
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# ¿ May 31, 2017 00:05 |