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 Aptitude: Tailoring (Defensive) Accolades: 9 -> 10 -> 7 Cards:     Exhausted from the last fight, Änna decided it was time to break out her pocket rule book for an impromptu inspection of the Flights' fortification and whether it was up to code. Especially the mounting of that gong they had recently acquired! No way this was a safe fashion of transporting such a delicate device! Rules-Lawyering vs Gong Rescue: 1d100+9-5 55 And while she was inside the enemy structure, perhaps it was time to perform some agressive marketing research. Breaking out her notebook, Änna began to jot down everyone's measurements, adding to her already extensive Measuring Master Manual, containing her entire team's measurements and soon those of the Flights of Fancy as well.
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Nov 25, 2020 01:21
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  Accolades: 9 -> 10 Shumpsy put the final touches on a homemade crossbow, cranking it to sublime tightness. Now was the time, do or die time, the time when winners would be separ-AUGHHHHHH! Shumpsy instinctually flinched as the flash powder went off, only to be completely underwhelmed. Not even something as low effort as some swinging paint cans for a follow up? Ugh, these goofs. Over the scrum, Shumpsy could hear Winnie shouting something. The Lord of Hats posted:"SNELDÄ HAS A PICTURE OF THE PROVOST THAT SHE KISSES EVERY NIGHT BEFORE GOING TO BED! GRANOL WAS ONE OF THE PEOPLE BEHIND THE NOODLE INCIDENT! GRÖN--wait not that one, gotta tear that page out--SARNA IS ACTUALLY A YEAR OLDER THAN EVERYONE THINKS, HE HAD TO REPEAT--" Lurid. At least any accusations of creepitude or weirdo density, bath related or otherwise, would be off them for a while. Shumpsy gave a hearty Siege Yell and began unloading, half blind, into the brawl. A) Shumpsy blindly engineers!: 1d100+20+9-10-5 103 Oops, forgot the -5, adjusted Judging by the assorted grunts, groans, and yelps, he was definitely hitting only Fancies. He knew he took those marksmanship classes for a reason! Loot: 
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Nov 25, 2020 06:39
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    Wörm Deck 0/7 Accolades 7 -> 8 Finally, Wörm's leg had calmed down enough for him to push himself out of the muck and stand up, offering a quick salute to pay respects to his tripping stick that had snapped in half, pushed to its limits by the ceaseless onslaught of Fancy ankles against it. By the time he made it up the hill, the front gates had already been breached, and his team was well away from him. This was fine. He'd followed the crowd for long enough, but it was time for him to get back to business - special operatives worked best alone. He was limber, covered in camouflaging muck, and still neutral-smelling from his time in the bath. SNEAKING MISSION: ENGAGED. It'd be simple enough to amble past the tide of oncoming Fancies and get to work on the door - huh, what was that glint? Memory from the past posted:"Mama! Mama! Snail took my siege engine!" A small Wörm tugged at his möther's pantleg as she drank her morning coffee, newspaper in hand. The 'siege engine' was really just a tall wooden block with two wheels at the bottom, but it was the only toy he had left that hadn't already been turned into a hand-me-down. He'd already lost so much. There were comrades on his team who loved that gong. Who had fought desperately to protect it. His team was his new family, his fort his new home, at least for now - and they deserved to keep their precious shiny objects, goddammit! They'd already lost so much! Probably! A decent chunk of his teammates were busy distracting and battling the defenders, but someone still had to sneak in there and actually take the dang thing back. Well, Wörm was on the case. This time, he would hide instead of just hiding in plain sight. They'd never see him coming. "I'm gonna take this back, okay?" He muttered under his breath as he moved into position. B) Stealthily flashback to save the gong: 1d100+24 72 Stealth and Flashback used. He also snagged a bag of Flash Powder in the process, because it was always nice to have an escape plan for the rare occasions someone noticed him for long enough to do something about it.
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Nov 26, 2020 09:59
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  Chaos broke out. Your team had given everything to make this assault happen. There was not room for error. No room for humiliation! Speaking of which, your gong was in sight. Zöd rushed the doorway that the thieves were trying to escape through. A sham of a rules dispute distracted the door guard just long enough for Zöd smäck her out of the way and kick the door open. Onwards! There wasn't that much of the fort left in this direction. Following the noises, the rescue team soon found the fleeing Flights in a dead end of a room, clustered around your precious Glimmering Gong. - You're late! The gong is our Trophy so back off! It was a transparent ploy to agitate you and keep you away from the fight for the goal. And agitate you it did. It was time for those goofs to kiss the floor. The fight was cramped and chaotic. Too many people in too small room wielding excessive number of weapons, and in one instance and entire table. The window shattered, one of the Fancies getting pushed out by Wörm who'd appeared by surprise. Another of the Fancies fell, a solid hit into their midsection, knocking her off her feet and leaving her with penalties that'd leave her sitting out the rest of the match. In the fierce melee, the Fancies were getting whittled down, but so were you. The rescue team put up impressive fight, but the fact remained that there were more of the Fancies here than you. Zöd was one of the last ones standing, as was Galgo the Mason. That jerk! He had kicked her rear end way back in the First Scuffle, and that's not something one forgives. Not when one takes contact sports extremely seriously, as any sensible person does. - Good hustle, frogface. But you're losing, again! With that, Galgo hefted the gong. He was about to shove it out of the window! Wait. Was that Fancy who got thrown out earlier waiting for it? That'd render your whole rescue mission pointless! Zöd lunged for the prize but another Fancy tackled her from behind, grabbing her arms. There was nothing she could do- - !!!  Somehow, Zöd wrenched the gong out of Galgo's grip. With it in her hands, she ran. The rest of the rescue team were getting beaten up, this was the only chance they'd get for fulfilling their mission. Running away did hurt her pride, but not as much as her teeth. B) Gong Rescue [Diff: 9] (You: SP +1, Gongs +1)  462 vs 9d100 = 460 Victory! (Barely! Seriously, look at those numbers.) 1 Siege Points gained! Glittering Gong rescued! -~X~- A flash and glittery junk in your face. The Fancies' defense was an insult and it was effective. But enough it would not be. Snööd's plan was put into motion. A surprise blast of fire spread through the Sanctum, igniting the powder in the air. The flash ignition was far from comfortable to your own side, but the Flights of Fancy were taken completely by surprise. It was time. Half of your strike force rushed in to meet the Flights' defenders head on, the rest released the Siegeball rolling from it's harness in your tower, setting it rolling towards the final gate.  The battle was fierce. The Flights of Fancy put up fearsome fight, but their morale was clearly shattered. By the events leading up to this point, and the new revelations coming to light at the last moment. There was no force behind their blows. No hope in their eyes. So low was their spirit, that as soon as Soup the Apathetic declared that he was quitting, several of the Fancies took the excuse to throw in the towel as well. The ball was coming, only a little bit farther! But the door! The way into the goal bunker was still fortified! Several of your players were at work wrenching it open, but would they make it in time? Yes they would. As helpfully explained by Spläg the Statistical Analyist. He crunched the numbers on the fight, pointing out that for all intents and purposes it was already lost for the shellshocked Flights. Lots of words in the middle of a melee. A focused foe would have dismissed the blabber without a thought, but the Fancies didn't, for they already believed it. *creeeaaaaak* That was it. The gate was open! The defenders were scattered. With one final push from all of your players who were still standing, the Siegeball was set rolling down to the Fancies' goal pit. With bated breath everyone looked at it's journey. Shaking from exhaustion, dreadfully expecting some final trick or complication. But there was none. With a loud noise of stone on stone, the ball fell into it's destination. Silence. And then, echoing from outdoors, the sound of a horn. It's sonorous tone declaring the game to be over. A) Goal! [Diff: 18] (You: GOAL, SP +4)  1153 vs 18d100 = 894 Victory! Your team has scored a goal! 4 Siege Points gained! Final Standings posted:>You ____You've won!!!____ Finally, the enchantment broke, with laughter. Your team had won! The Flights' Sanctum echoed with cheering, yelling and joy, drowning out the exasperated whining of the fort's owners. The horn did not lie. You had taken this round. It was all over for the Flights of Fancy. A fact of which you reminded them of repeatedly as you slowly drifted out of the fort. They took the jeering grimly. Gritting their teeth and quickly taking distance from your team.
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Dec 2, 2020 04:32
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Downtime You've passed the first game of the Oatsie Tourney with flying colors. Be proud! Celebrate! But then get your feet back on the ground. Siegeball winners or no, SASGY demands your attention if you are to graduate. Getting all of your stuff sorted back into the warehouse took long enough. You really need to leave sports behind for a while. So return back to your daily life. Work hard, but don't forget to also live a little. What follows is a slice of your life. And a choice. Pick one. There's a segment for each of you, but they are all meant to be read together.  01 - Trinique Quite a day, that was. You are very much exhausted, yet sleep won't take you. Lying on your back, in your bed, in your lightless dorm room. Its way too late already. Something is keeping you up. Maybe its leftover nervous energy from the game. Whatever it is; its annoying. You almost wish that Winnie would show up with another night time mission just to break the boredom. With nothing else to do, you raise your arm. The pale moonlight illuminates the stolen slingshot in your grip as you slowly turn it around. Somebody else's treasure. Now yours. For a moment you wonder if your mother would be happy with that. Yeah, she did sort of send you away from home because you stole stuff, but surely she won't mind as long as you are messing with somebody else's stuff, rather than hers. And besides, its not really stealing. Taking Trophies is a Siegeball tradition. Its not a crime when its a tradition. Still no sleep. Recent events spin in your head. Back when you were planning your team's strategy... your törtle fort idea hadn't garnered much support. But maybe its still worth trying? SASGY is located within Tömate, still very close to the center. You could easily take the trip and find someone that deals in törtles. You're in uniquely good position to make this idea happen. After all SASGY is one of the relatively few places where one can find a workshop outfitted with a Cataract Lathe for shaping the required materials. ...but for now you really need to get some sleep. And tomorrow you'll: A) Steal exam answers from a teacher, homework is a waste of time B) Steal junk from other students. For the principline of it. C) Acquire a long-snööted törtle ---  02 - Grön Back in your dorm room. Behind closed doors. Still wearing a bucket. Carrying an egg wrapped in a warmed towel. Normal day? Well, what next. Oh right. You look into the cupboard and after discarding several empty bottles, you find a couple that still have some red dye left. Oh crap, one of the empty bottles you threw over your shoulder apparently still ahd some red in it. Now it is on your wall. And your floor. Pretty gruesome sight. At least this brand is easy to wash off. Or wait, that's a bad thing actually. Bucket. Yeah. Maybe instead you could get some of that stuff they use for dying fabrics... Or maybe you won't bother. you've made it here. Made it this far. Doing... something? Maybe instead focus on improving your game. The giant worked fine last time, why not another? Repeating the trick is going to make it more transparent, but maybe its still good for shocking people. A) Seek stronger red dye B) work on your Giant of Ö performance C) Focus on making sure the egg is cared for properly ---  03 - Winnie Getting dark outside. Boring. Most of the other students have been keeping distance from you. Rumors going around. Its pretty cool, but that also means that you haven't yet managed to meet up with Börgar the Recorder and explain to him the consequences of if he keeps recording stuff about you. Though, maybe you can do that some other day. Still a bit tired from the whole Siegeball thing. Perhaps some more laidback scheming for now. Like that time you broke into the Fancies' Equipment Workshop. They haven't even changed their locks probably. A) Go teach Börgar a lesson B) Go check if the Flights of Fancy have changed their locks C) Screw these options. Pick from somebody else's list instead. ---  04 - Soup Somebody knocks on your door. Just when you got in bed for your nap. Annoying. - You there? Soup? Urhg, its Porth, your brother. He's whining about something, asking if you have time to help him with a writing project. Again. Argh. He's been here way longer than you have. Shouldn't he have a grasp on things by now? A) Put on your earplugs. Have a good time for a change. B) Exit through the window. Its a nice day outside. C) Open the door. Suffer through doing more of Porth's schoolwork for him. ---  05 - Spoon Your feet take you places. Before you notice, you've arrived by the side kitchens. The Cooking Club used to meet here. You sigh. Force of habit. Stubborn. Hard to break. Might as well take a look around. Yup. The door is still boarded up. Thinking about it... you haven't seen one of your cookbooks in a while. You used to think that you had simply displaced it, but by now you are sure that you have looked everywhere else where it could be. The club room is your final guess. There's a sign telling people not to go in until they've sorted out the room, or torn it down completely, whatever it might take. But, well, if anyone asks what you are doing you can claim that you are the one doing the cleanup. Though... what if that would be for nothing? Even if your book is in there, there is no quarantee that it is still in usable condition. Maybe best to write off your losses and not waste your time here? You've heard that the grocery market at Salient Imports, out in the city, has gotten a fresh shipment. Looking at weird ingredients sounds like a better time than sorting through the remains of the Incident. A) Go shopping for weird stuff at Salient Imports B) Go into the clubroom, for old times' sake (also for whatever remains of cookbook) C) I don't like either of those options. Its not like Cooking defines me. ---  06 - Snööd - Location: Burnie Memorial Wing for Applied Pyromania- - Nice job with the frammer- flamb- flamethrower. Huh? Well that's a surprise. Your lecturer, Wocks rarely bothers to congratulate students for anything. He's a sour fellow. A scarred veteran of the Goput Effort. A campaign to save the Fröman city of Goput after a tropical storm covered it in a layer of corrosive seaweed and amphibious sea creatures. He teaches such courses as: - Land Clearing - Clearing Land Infested by Dangerous Wildlife - What To Do If Getting Set On Fire Doesn't Kill The Wildlife And Now They Are Extremely Pissed That last one is optional but Wocks will yell at you if you try to skip it. He'll yell right at you and get spittle on your face. No such attention for now, thankfully. The man has returned to the blackboard, explaining the finer points of pouring lighter fluid on poo poo. Well. He has no more interest in you, but some of the other students have gotten curious about what did you do. Smells like an opportunity to bilk them out of favors and praise? A) Brag to the Pyro students B) Really brag to them. Make up absurd lies about your pyromanic prowess (50% chance of success) C) Ask if they've got any tips for dealing with burnt hair ---  07 - Rik - ...How did you manage to get your fabric shirt to look shiny? The other students aren't really asking for an explanation. Simply expressing wonder. You keep chewing your meal. The curtain of noise filling the dining hall quickly taking the questioner's attention elsewhere. Explanation. Very few people have the patience for the full explanation, you've found. If the topic comes up they tend to quickly move onto jokes you have heard many times before. "Knight in shining armor", a classic. You're not sure if you have the patience for that one anymore. - ...armor, haha, get it? She looks at you. Nit was her name you think? Played in the Flights of Fancy. - ...though seriously, I've been thinking about it. Joining the knightood I mean, after I graduate. If they'll have me. Nail or Fist? Well, its still a very distant proposition. Do the orders even take in people from SASGY? You aren't sure. Pretty remote subject from Polishing. Although... you've heard that there's a recruiter present on the campus right now. Outdoors, giving a speech apparently? A) Take the time to go listen to the recruiter B) Can't. You need to polish your plate and your fork and your knife and your glass before you can leave or do anything else. C) Try to take the conversation in a completely different, less serious direction. ---  08 - Brûh Pumping iron, staying hydrated. Its the life. It is kind of quiet at the SASGY gym. Getting late, sun is almost down. Not completely empty yet though. Another regular of the facility asks if you can spot for her. Why say no? Reps done. That was quick. You note that the fellow gym rat has been making good gains. "Thanks" she says. She goes on to explain that she's been taking a supplement she bought from someone called Joa the Fleecer. To which another bud laughs and exclaims that's baby stuff. For real gains you gotta snort powdered drywall. Yet another bud shows up, attracted by the mass of the beef singularity. Cool tips, cool tips, but guess what? He found this pamphlet in a toilet bowl that explains how you make real gains. Also, he likes to snort powdered sugar. Well that's a weird philosophy. Don't they know that protein is supposed to be drank, not snorted? But if three meatheads swear by this Joa broker then surely she must be reliable. The buds explain where to find her, should you want the best in workout refreshements. A homely little address in Tömate proper. A) Meet Shady trader. Get gains. The Number (of weights) must go up. B) The snort gang gross you out. C) Maybe later. Its time to hit the books! Study hard! Of the subject that you are studying, here at the Academy! ---  09 - Shumpsy Its late evening. Yväs is already soundly asleep. All the better. This takes absolute concentration. Everything must be... just... so. ... There. You put the fine detail brush down and admire your work. Another Töan Horde De-Fencer for your army. You place the warrior down at the back of your table where it's colorful compatriots await, along with several more still waiting to be painted. Nice. You adjust the spot light to check that the reflection on the sword is just right. Yeah. Looks good. Nice. At this rate you'll have the whole squad finished soon enough. And then, well, there are more waiting in your 'Battlesledge 100' box. Best to keep going. But... maybe that's enough for now? You've still also got your coursework taking up space on your desk. A working miniature model for a pressure plate design with redundant earthquake proofing and all the other stuff. Actually the model does not yet have the other stuff. The other stuff is still splayed on the desk in small pieces. Little gears organized from smallest to largest. To properly test it you'll need to put it all together. Hmm, you'll need to adjust this one a bit. You grab your metal saw and- wait, Yväs is sleeping. He might mind the noise. You look over your shoulder. Yväs' bed is empty and neatly made. You look forward again. The sun is shining outside. W-well, that means you can see the details better now! But, oof. Dang. Are your hands shaking a bit or are you imagining it? Should you be cooped up like this? Its the weekend! When did you even last see your family? A) Go visit your family B) Continue painting Battlesledge figurines; which ones? C) Finish the mechanical model ---  10 - hörg Doing the rounds. The road of an Official Delinquent takes you to the west dorms. Here's the place. A whole bunch of rooms of fresh new Architecture program students. Checking your calendar, you confirm that their grace period is over. Time for a checkup. Hmmm. The doors are still the weakass default ones that SASGY installs in a new student's room. Tch. A quick probing with a crowbar produces sad noises. A couple of the doors might have had metal plates installed but its a sad sight all around. Well, time to start breaking them open and make a scene. Maybe grab their stuff while you're at it. This promises to be a pretty routine job. Although, now that you are here, the people on that other hallway could also use some attention. They don't look too well defended either, but Gang Leader Knöck did warn that they have a sick sense of humor in the 'Traps with Absolutely No Puzzle Elements' program... A) Confiscate poo poo from the new Architecture students B) Terrorize the Traps students (50% success chance) C) Screw it. Go hang out in the Gang Lounge instead. ---  11 - Änna There. That's the last numbers. You slap your binder of people's measurements shut. All of your teammates, and many other people as well, all recorded within. Your thoughts wander to maybe getting the numbers of other people you might one day face in a strife of Siege. There's plenty of teams in the Tourney that are not from SASGY, harder to meet them in person, but if all else fails you could try to get the dets on their uniforms from the Tourney Committee. Hardsy mentioned having some sort of contact with them. A) Spice up your own outfit(s). How? B) Snoop about your potential future opponents C) Dispose the remnants of your Bag gambit in a comical manner ---  12 - Wörm The hall is looking very empty all of sudden. Where did everybody go? Did something come up? Whatever it was, they must have missed you. Forgot to tell you. You can't really say that you are surprised. You can't say it because you have nobody to say it to. Walking up to a window, you can see a modest group of people outside, all gathered up around someone. Having fun maybe? They seem lively, but you can't really tell, too far away. Is that where everybody went? - Oh hey! - oh, sorry, mistook you for someone else. Typical. - But hey, um, while you are here, or, while I'm here... - Are you... interested in painting? We're looking for new members for our club. A) Check out the crowd and speaker outside B) Check out the painting club. Maybe you could use a hobby? C) Sulk away ---  13 - Bömba Somebody has left a sticky note on your door. Its from the Fancies. Well, one of them at least. They apologize for taking your lemonade and compliment your grämmäma. Well, if they really meant that why not say it to your face? Well, anyhow. You remove the (rather large) note from the door of your room. Thereupon several smaller ones fall to the floor. Oh. The big one must have been hiding them. Probably just junk mail. Some of the student clubs like to plaster their fliers everywhere to drum up interest in their amateur plays or whatever. Yeah. Here's one for the painting club, still looking for a second member. Usual stuff... All this paper, most of which nobody is going to read before throwing it away. Hmph. If you want to scream into the void why not just use the Mindbender net. Less garbage that way. Fliers, fliers... Now here's a weirder one. A pamphlet printed on dark grey paper. A touch that no doubt sounded cool to whoever made it, but honestly just makes it very annoying to read. Under bright light, you can see that its an ad for "Rot Night". A party held in Old Tö-Town. The venue is a derelict warehouse. "Bring your own drinks." Real classy. Its kind of shady but some students attend these kinds of things regularly. You are fairly certain that you won't end up in an shallow grave if you take the invitation. But still, real classy. They claim to have professional musicians and a singer. Also featured is "the anger pit, pit of pure anger" No further explanation. You're feeling a bit typecast. Well, whatever. All these pamphlets and fliers. They are just useless garbage. Who even reads these. You... A) Grab your own pile of Anger Management Club fliers and go to stick one on every door you can find. B) Make a stand against littering. Demand that the pamphlet-pushers and leaflet-leavers show their faces and apologize. C) Take a breather and write to your grämmäma. X) Attend the Rot Night ---  14 - Yväs The Danger Dungeon proved very effective in your latest Siegeball match. But maybe there is still room for improvement. Something to think about in what leisure time you have. Before the day comes to start putting the fort together in whatever place the next game gets scheduled for. Seeing one of the old Warlords show up to expedite the deconstruction was bit of a shock. Aren't they like, super important people? And he's just volunteering for this? Weird to think that someone like that would bother... Well, that was then and now is now. Most of the equipment and building elements are in a warehouse waiting for that time. (Many of them damaged from the giant's handling...) However the bath house parts have already been reassembled just outside SASGY campus. Something which may or may not have been their true purpose in the first place. Its a real premium facility. You could take a break from working to really relax for a bit. You did put your name in the waiting list in time, after all. What else... Shumpsy was talking about maybe going to see his mother. Not really an option for you, given how far away you're from your relatives. You'd need a longer leave to make the trip. If you are even interested in seeing the blasted frontier ever again. A) Work smarter. Also work harder. Draw up dungeons until you can see them when you close your eyes, even more than you usually do. B) Chillax in the killax vault themed bath house C) Amass more booster packs. Beat goofs at children's trading card game. ---  15 - Zöd Its that rear end in a top hat Galgo the Mason again. And now you, and three other people are stuck with him in a classroom. The Applied Botany people screwed something up, and the whole basement outside of this room is full of flesh eating vines or some weird nonsense. Galgo is leaning against the wall by the exit, occasionally eyeing you warily, as if he didn't know you at all. Pretending that he didn't just call you frogface a few days ago. Rematch time? Although, maybe you don't need more than one nemesis in your life. A) Declare vendetta B) Declare truce C) Declare nothing. Fight your way through the vines rather than waste time here. (50% chance of success) ---  16 - Spläg While crunching the numbers you reach for your ink pen on the other end of the table. Nothing. You raise your eyes from your papers. Its not there. Impossible. You're sure it was there just seconds ago. You used it seconds ago! And nobody else has been in this room... aside from those footsteps, hurriedly moving away. you pursue. That pen wasn't just any pen. Silver and fine. It had been given to you by your father the day you left for the Academy. The thief thinks that the mass of people moving in the hallway will let him slip away from your notice. It almost works, but eventually you find them. Three students huddling by a window. One of them showing off your pen to the others. A) Confront the thieves directly B) Memorize their faces and names C) Don't bother. The pen is cheap. ---  17 - Yelda Your study in the library is interrupted by whispers. You've no time for them. You have work to do, here under the sagely watch of the recreation of The Ram hanging from the ceiling. But try as you might to ignore the hushed voices, you can't. There's two of them. Talking louder than they think. Louder than they think! Whispering ugly words. You've heard them all before. Wondering if you've been Certified safe, or if you might be a threat. Your fingers tighten around a paper weight. A heavy, leaden thing in the shape of an octagon. Suitably heavy. You can hear them behind you. You could easily make the throw. You notice a mirror on the wall. Through it you see your hecklers. A pair of young looking boys, currently staring at the ceiling. Awed by the scale of the library. Probably from some backwater podunk that only recently learned that the Last War is over. Where they still fear bogeys under their bed. You shouldn't take them seriously. You should just calm down. You should understand that they know no better. You should think about this clearly. The paper weight. Your fingers are going numb from squeezing. A) Make a scene B) Leave. Channel the rage into your art. C) Calm Down. This too, shall pass. ---  18 - Tangö The Official Delinquent curses under her breath. A bully sent to check if you've been taking your dorm security seriously. Well, she managed to destroy your door, not that it took much more. So guess that's a 'no' to the previous question. But then, right after barging in she managed to break her leg somehow. You try to ask if you've failed the inspection but the delinquent has already limped away and around a corner. That's it then? You take a measure of your doorway. Could you maybe parse it back together? No. Its in way too many pieces. Pretty messed up. Looking around you are forced to admit that your whole dorm room is pretty messed up. Your roommate used to tidy up, but you haven't seen her in a while. You think she has been sleeping somewhere else. After her bed got broken. Maybe... its time to do something about this? At least cover up the window so its not so chilly at night. Perhaps you could get those people you play sports with to help you out. A) Room restoration! Time for some sort of "reverse-breaking" B) Nah. If your roommate can bum somewhere better then so can you. Maybe the faculty will assign you a fresh room if you are big enough of a nuisance. C) The room is fine, honestly. The springs poking out from your mattress are supposed to do that. You prefer them that way. -~X~- Note posted:You face a choice. While just picking a letter is okay, I welcome more detailed answers. You have very much narrative authority here. I don't have SASGY's floorplan or full curriculum planned out or anything, go nuts. -~X~- Craft posted:
Jvie fucked around with this message at 20:27 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 2, 2020 04:42
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One more thing!  - So, the name thing. - You sure you don't like being called "Team T-5", perfectly good, straightforward name? - Well, its none of my business. Just let me know what to put in the papers. Team Name |
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Dec 2, 2020 05:04
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[grön.png] Grön Accolade= 10>21 Team Credit 2>2 ----- Grön gently held the egg up to a nearby light. Yes, now that Grön could get a closer look, it was everything Grön hoped for and more. Hm. Grön squints at the egg. This is the egg of some kind of poultry, right? Because if the egg was a poultry egg, certain someones would be willing to pay out mighty well; but if it wasn't it wouldn't matter how good an egg it was. Well, to Them.To Grön it would still be a good, uh. Whatever it is. ...Seriously, where did the fancies find this thing? Eh, Grön could probably just ask them later. For now, there was also the matter of the giant of Ö- Grön flinches, grateful the uniform was fireproof. -and the red dye. Oh boy. The red dye was going to be a problem. It was fine so far, the bucket worked double duty in keeping peoples attention as well as keeping Grön's head hidden. Since the match was over Grön could see to some minor alterations to the rest of the suit to make really sure nobody noticed regardless, keeping that secret a secret. The giant though, well, the giant was calling to Grön. It was a shame the crowd couldn't see it before it, uh. Caught fire with Grön in it. Never mind, moving on. Still, the real giant of Ö was a big (literal and metaphorical) figure in the underground leagues. Who knows, word tends to spread and Grön's tribute might be amusing. So the red dye could be put off and Grön wasn't in much of a hurry to do anything with the giants remains other than mouth them to the wall. (Turns out a burnt scrap-giant really makes the room.) All that was left, then was to attend to the egg. ... Mournfully, Grön sighs as they push aside some empty bottles of dye and put the giants blueprints back in their desk drawer; setting up a nest on the desk for the egg. "Sooner you hatch, sooner I can work on other things." "...Really hope this bucket doesn't get stuck in the meanwhile." [C]: Grön responsibly, if begrudgingly, takes care of the Immaculate Egg. Afterwards, Grön would write with their custom ink (the blend a trade secret) a message about what Grön found and leave it at the usual meeting point near the old*, derelict kitchens. ... Grön coughs, looking around nervously. ... A few minutes pass. Satisfied, Grön passes the letter through the grate. Why the original architect thought having a wall grate leading to a basement supply closet was a good idea Grön would never know. That bit of business settled, Grön could get back to watching the egg. They really ought to send a few more letters elsewhere, keep up the journal, etc, etc, etc, but it was a busy day already and those little matters could wait for some other time. Probably. ----- When asked for a team name, Grön responded: "Tö, Frö... Töblëröns? Fröblëröns?" "The Öblörhömës removal and renovation service." "Or, y'know. Öblërhömës R&R for short." "If deconstructive sieging doesn't work out, I think we've a promising career in quality construction." ----- *Some time after the fact, Grön would wonder why kitchens seemed to have the worst luck at SASGY. Whatever it was, it was probably why they had several across the campus these days. Arcanuse fucked around with this message at 20:43 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 2, 2020 06:29
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  Deck: 7/7. Accolades: > 15 | Team Credit: 2 C: "Hmpfh. What's this? Are you truly attempting to attack my structure points directly? Fool, have you forgotten what deck I am playing? Even the freshest SI-GE-OH player should know blue wardians have the 'integral' ability; allowing me to sacrifice ten supply to re-direct any structure attack to a target of my own choice once per offence phase. Weep now, child, as I demolish your front line with my perfect counter: popular uprising!" An audible gasp could be heard throughout the rec centre. Yväs re-popped his collar. "Amateur." Later, a freshman was seen running through the SAGSY corridors, crying. -- Team Name Vote: Place Holders
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Dec 2, 2020 06:42
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[Snööd - Greasing][Cards N/A] [Accolades 11>22][Team Credit 2>3] [Using Card: N/A] Snööd went over those last few seconds of the match in their head. Again. What went wrong? No one else was singed to the same extent, there must be some reason... Foreshadowing posted:Snööd dips a comb into the oil bucket, leans against a wall, and carefully runs it through their hair. Greasing wasn't just for seiging, after all.  Uh oh, back to reality, Wocks was approaching- and Wocks posted:Nice job with the frammer- flamb- flamethrower. With the others' curious glances, it was a perfect opportunity to cement Snööd's position as the slickest operator this side of the Tömate. Snööd flicked their hair casually- Their hand passed through the air in front of their face, empty. Ack! No! Snööd's usual smooth, forward do was still singed and crispy. The whole detached cool look didn't work with this! No no no no no! While internally cringing at getting so much attention while looking so singed, Snööd met the gaze of one of the pyros. A few days ago you could say it was an intense, brooding stare. Since the singing it was more like a permanant state of shock. This couldn't go on. They would know. They dealt with this all the time. Snööd leaned towards them and C) Ask if they've got any tips for dealing with burnt hair ---- Team Name Vote: Place Holders WereGoat fucked around with this message at 22:21 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 2, 2020 14:49
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Brüh Deck: N/A Hand: N/A Gear:   Accolades: 6 > 16 > 17 C "Hey buds. This Joa the Fleecer sounds completely rad and bad, my dudes. I think I'll check her out later. Though my own strategy to get the beef? To make the gains? To swole the soul? It involves two ingredients: protein shakes to fuel the bod and economic philosophy to pump the brain muscles. Mind over matter, ya dig, dawgs? Feel free to join me at the Philosophy Study Group my meatheads, my guys. Make Gains with your Mind! This is where the swole truly comes from: the heart and the mind." The meatheads nodded sagely and much bro-fiving and back slapping and muscle circumference measuring and philosophical discussion was had. ------- Bruh had an assignment due for Professor Grumbus' Economics for Biological Warfare course coming up so she had to hit the books and write up her paper. Studying to get her degree in the Economic Philosophy field required a surprising breadth of courses, from epidemiology to logistics to parabolic mathematics. One day Bruh would tear down the mercantalist system and institute Bromunism for the masses. But until then, her paper titled Slinkers: A Furry, Profitable Vector for Neotype Domination had to be written. Team Name: Goof Troops Slaan fucked around with this message at 20:45 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 2, 2020 15:57
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Spoon The Chef Accolades: 3 > 14 | Team Credit: 0 > 1 Every week, every week he ends up back here at least once for reasons he doesn't quite understand, he comes and he looks through the gaps in the bordered up windows and he feels a lonesome longing, tinged with the tiniest bit of shame. It's been a long time since the 'incident' admittedly, and no one was really hurt, except maybe emotionally, and they managed to chisel out most of the slower members of the club, the random bystanders and the janitor eventually. Still though all those recipes lost, months of judicious culinary experimentation buried under mounds of hardened, lightly spiced dough, even now the hallway smelled faintly of cinnamon. What if he just, slipped aside some of the looser boards and slid inside, what if he could indulge a little sentimental nostalgia? It wouldn't hurt right? No one would know right? ... "No." Spoon softly declared and he walked away once more. A) Go shopping for weird stuff at Salient Imports The Doughtastrophe had been a shameful embarrassment, the height of their hubris that saw their entire operation crumble like flaked pastry. The recipes he made in the club were good for them when it was just the club he was cooking for but now the situation had changed. He was cooking for 17 players minimum, with limited appliances, less pots, less on hand ingredients and the possibility of interruption via marauding enemy teams. He needed new recipes, ones that could be doubled, tripled, even quadrupled easily, made in advance, reheated, eaten cold, thrown as weapons, repurposed as defences, what ever the ever changing circumstances of the match may be this was now Siege Cooking, cooking food under fire and Salient Imports always run flash sales on their new stuff when they bring it in, if he made it in first he'd get early dibs before the midday rush. He needed something that could keep and was easy to carry perhaps soup, perhaps pasties or perhaps... He rummaged through his little book of secret recipes and flipped open to one page. A traditional Crestmas Fröotcake, it's the season after all, and a good Crestmas Fröotcake was dense in healthy fruits and nuts and could keep for literal months if stored correctly. It would be perfect for a siege. ---  "Last time I made this it was smaller admittedly, but I still have some slices left that are good to eat" "I'm not much good thinking of cool team names, I think I'd prefer being the Goof Troops than the Place Holders though." TheNabster fucked around with this message at 21:33 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 2, 2020 16:52
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Accolade: 10 -> 20 Team Credit" 0 -> 1 Soup could just ignore his brother but something was bothering him. He'd normally go to great lengths to avoid the interaction and extra work but after seeing how good the Siegeball armor protected the players, he wanted to know how it failed Porth in a simple siege engine collapse; more importantly, would it fail Soup as well? Time to get it over with, C  "I'll help but you answer one question first, how the hell did you get injured? That armor's supposed to be enchanted against serious damage on the field." "That's an easy one, the mindlink overloaded." "What?" "The armor shut down. Overload the mindlink connection, all the systems lock up. No penalty trackers, no medicals or nothing, it's nothing more than high quality padding. Kept me live but still hurt like hell. Can't even remember why I'd wanted to give a speech to the team, just that I'd suddenly had the urge to open as many links as I could at once." Soup didn't care about Porth's irrationality, only the ramifications. "So wait, if we chat too much, they go down and leave us vulnerable?" "Nah, the new model has a backup, worst that'd happen now is a comms shutdown, but old man Skett assured me that team broadcasts are normal use. He said it crashed because some junk data got pumped into the network and routed through my armor. I bet it was some kind of mindhack like in the mövies dad rips off for his books, like-" Soup had tuned him out by that point. All that mattered was the armor would keep on working unless something unexpectable happened. ------------------- Having spent the evening dealing with Porth meant Soup in no mood to care about the team name. Well, in even less of a mood than usual. He wrote "placeholder" on the ballot, unwittingly adding a +1 to the Place Holders vote.
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Dec 3, 2020 00:06
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Hand:  Deck: 7/7 remain Accolades: 20 Team Credit 1 A) Confront the thieves directly Spläg sidled on up, and started out with a series of finely crafted lies. "Oh wow, is that a type 57 Super-mindlink ultrapen? Those things are amazing! I've got one back in my room. Hey, let me show you something really cool. They've got a secret activation sequence if you twist them the right way in the right places in the right order, though you need to watch out for the boobytraps. Here, let me demonstrate how it's done." So saying, he attempted to reclaim his property. If successful, "Now, this first one, you need a run-up for." Followed by going back to his quarters at speed. Edit: Place Holders. AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 21:01 on Dec 3, 2020 |
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Dec 3, 2020 05:27
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Rik Aptitude: Polishing Focus: Offensive Accolade 21 Jvie posted:- ...though seriously, I've been thinking about it. Joining the knightood I mean, after I graduate. If they'll have me. "...Huh." Rik said. "I thought, what with all the peace we've apparently been having these past few years, there wasn't much call for Knights or any other soldiers. I mean, aren't like half of the tutors here ex-Forces? But hey, there's not much else to do until the next Siegeball match. Tell you what, Nit, lemme just polish off what's on my plate and we can go together. I'll give the spiel a listen, if nothing else." A. Team name: Actually, Team T-5 sounds fine.
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Dec 3, 2020 19:20
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 Zöd - Sucker Punching Accoldades: 7>18 Urgh, classes were already tedious enough without being trapped in the same room as Galgo. If those stupid botany nerds couldn't handle their own creations, then that should be their problem, not hers! Didn't seem like a teacher would fix the problem any time soon, they were always swamped with fixing messes from both student slipups and teacher shenanigans. Well, she should probably at least talk to Galgo and sort this mess out before it got any worse. Sighing, Zöd stands up from her desk and walks over to the Mason. "Stop trying to ignore me, idiot, it just makes things more awkward. Look, we had a few fights last game, but that doesn't mean we have to hold grudges against each other during class, right? I have a hard enough time as it is trying to listen to our teachers drone on, I really don't need to be constantly looking over my shoulder as well. So...let's just call a truce, yeah? Just because we've punched each other in the face multiple times doesn't mean we can't get along. In fact, why don't we show these other chumps in the room how we deal with overgrown vines, and fight our way out of here together. We're Siegeball pros, kind of, this should be a piece of cake for us!" Team Name: I have to vote for Goof Troops. Oh yeah, and Zöd A: Declares Vendetta by Sucker Punching Galgo through the class door into the vines so she and the others in the class can make their escape. Why the hell would she ever call a truce with the rear end in a top hat who called her frogface? She hates frogs!
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Dec 3, 2020 21:18
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New Gear:  #01 - Trinique Aptitude: Stealing - Offensive Accolades: 9 -> 19 -> 20 // Team Credit: 2 Deck: 0/8 // Discard Pile: Rules Lawyering, Athletics, Tactics, Engineering, Flashback, Contra-Band "So, like, what does it, like... do?" At the faintly smelly Tömate Petting Shöppe, the Tö teen Trinique was staring into the long-snööted törtle's terrarium, trying to look as exasperatingly bored as possible with the shöppe's selection in their so-called 'reptile boudoir'. Trinique was here specifically for a cute little törtle just like the one she was looking at, too, by gum-gosh-golly, but she wasn't going to let on that she actually wanted it, no not at all. That would be foolish. That was one of the big lessons in Trinique's own Stealing 101 (if she were to ever teach a class): don't make it look like you actually want a thing, so when it goes 'missing' no one will expect that it was you who took it. This also works especially well with haggling, but haggling was for chumps. "Ah, uhm, what - you think it does tricks?" Asked the slightly-older Tö teen with the scratchy voice and skillcore mumps showing. "Listen, kid, it's a törtle. It drinks water, eats leafy greens, and goes potty in the sand. It likes to be warm, but not, like, left out in the sun... I don't know what else it does I'd have to ask my manager-" "No no - it's fine..." Trinique mumbled lamely, then she did something that even she wasn't expecting. "How much?" "Well -" the salesboy prepped himself for the whole Petting Shöppe sales speech, "the törtle itself isn't so pricey, but you need a whole setup to make sure it's comfortable. That means a glass tank, low grit-törtle sand, a water bowl made to look like a rock, a heat dish and candles, food pellets, eye drops, claw clippers, and shell polish, at the very least. That'd be... hold on." The slightly older working teen looked away to move behind the sales counter so he could run some tabulations with an abacus. Trinique moved in for the kill, slamming a wad of crumpled up paper cash, a gold-looking medallion, a painted wendigo miniature made of pewter, and a rare holofoil Sie-Gie-Oh card on the counter. "How much of that can I get for these?" Trinique attempted, a hint of a pöker-player's smile lifting at the corners of her mouth. The incredulous sales-Tö blinked back his shock. "Whuh - a Trinheesh mini AND a holo Blue Eyes White Slinker?" He glanced at Trinique and then back down at the collectible game card, which he picked up with shaky fingers. "I heard they only made so many of these before the factory burned down..." The awed teenage Tö remarked conversationally, then glanced towards the door to his manager's office. "Uh, I'm gonna have to ask my boss if we take trades..." The sales-Tö looked back across the Petting Shöppe's counter and saw that the young girl was gone, along with the long-snööted törtle she'd shown an interest in. C) Acquire a long-snööted törtle through a totally legitimate channel bestowing ownership if not responsibility for said creature's well-being. Vote: Place-Holders
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Dec 4, 2020 19:29
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 Accolades: 8 -> 19 Hörg clacked his tongue derisively and shook his head slowly from side to side. This wouldn't do at all. Sure, freshmen were always like this, but this was a particularly sad display of incompetence. Made even worse by the fact that it was from Architecture, who really should know better. They ought to learn from those trap people, whom Hörg had already inspected and determined to appear totally undefended in an extremely conspicuous way, which he took to mean they were taking their job seriously. And akin to them, Hörg took his job very seriously too. And although skipping work to hang with your gangmates was a core part of thuggin', and he was kinda slacking on that due to his busy shift, Hörg was willing to go the extra mile to teach the way of things to the ignorant new meat. He was an altruist, like that. With a determined motion, Hörg wrenched the doors open to the shock of the freshmen inside, spat on the floor, confiscated their most treasured belongings, and tagged their wall. By the book stuff. "Listen up, meat", he remarked just before leaving, "All this be held at the gang vault, ay? So if ye be wantin' it back, ye better be showin' the Siegin' prowess ta earn it back, ye get me?" "Oh." "'N I'll be back next week ta check on yer progress, 'n if it'll be a sad display like this, it'll be beatin', so SHAPE UP." A) Confiscate poo poo from the new Architecture students Vote: Place Holders
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Dec 4, 2020 20:07
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Yelda - Cheerleading Accolades: 5->16 quote:The paper weight. Your fingers are going numb from squeezing. Dumb Kid posted:"Bet her momma drank Wastes water. Daddy said -- no, Tömmy, he told me, shush it -- he said you even eat a slice of slinkloaf in that place, you -- ssh!" B posted:Leave. Channel the rage into your art. Why would she need to do that? There's nothing to be angry about. Anger is for Wendigoes. Not Neotypes -- Yelda had read plenty of Neotopian poetry and political dissertations for her independent study plans, and it was all abstract, feverishly written Continental philosophy (i.e. written by some portion of the continent which had been endowed with sentience -- it played hell with the translations, no one could figure out how to describe the body language of a mountain range), oriented along some alien moral axis of debate that she could barely grasp and found hearteningly gross. But anger, good old anger, was for the Monsterists and Wendigoes who'd held pox parties in Teret dive bars and distributed leaflets with infected skin stamped into the printing-press and chanted disapproving poetry from their great hollow cells in Nägel, the Monsterist prison. It was tireless and shameless and would have spit at Certification and when it boiled over it razed towns, and she was ashamed of the thought that she'd ever apply something that... dangerous, okay, and important to Töan civil history, yes, but still dangerous, to her silly little concerns about how she looked. So she smiled in their general direction, and tried to make herself look small, and pulled her hair out of its pigtails to provide some rudimentary cover for her eye, and she wasn't angry. Really, she wasn't. It was concern, and stress, and body issues, and that was all. (And later, the library lent out a well-worn book on Töan war chanting, along with a series of paintings of pre-war Wendigoes, the ones not put down at the moment of their rebirth. Because these grotesques, their anger, the years and years of gore and terror and brutal dominance... it was just history, wasn't it? Innocent history, worth studying for an innocent history student, a respectable Siege-Gifted Youth with no personal investment whatsoever in terror and blood. That was all.) Vote: Place Holders Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 21:51 on Dec 6, 2020 |
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Dec 6, 2020 20:44
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 Winnie - Schemin' Accolades: 7->18 Winnie gazed up at the ceiling as she laid on her bed, tossing a rubber ball at the wall and catching it as it bounced back to her hand. Her room was shockingly tidy--not the pristine spotlessness of someone who was going to grow into a cleaning, but rather the dustless orderliness that comes when you spend a lot of time referencing the various books you've snuck out of the library, relevant newspaper clippings pinned up and connected by red yarn, hand-drawn maps of school grounds, and coded notes for future schemes. When an opportunity presented itself, there wasn't time to go digging for the information you needed. You had to start putting pieces in place immediately. You had to be decisive. You had to act before worries of consequences caught up with you, much less the consequences themselves. She caught the ball one final time before sitting up and setting it on her bedside table. That need for decisive action went double when it came to dealing with Problems. Not problems like the fact that everyone was avoiding her in sheer terror--that would go away once people had time to realize that hiding from Winnie would not make her any less inclined to spill the Catastrophe Beans. No, it was Problems like Börgar, who gormlessly wrote down everything he saw because that was just what he did. No thoughts at all to the opportunities or dangers it presented. She did have to credit his curiosity, though--she was pretty sure she had an idea of how he'd seen some of this stuff. And the faculty would not be happy with him if they knew. And that was leverage. Börgar wasn't particularly hard to find--he was in the library, studiously writing down the titles of all the books on the shelves. Alone. Winnie grinned as she took the seat opposite him. "Hey, Börgar. That was a good match, the other day!" Börgar looked up at Winnie and froze, his flight instincts momentarily short-circuited. "You know, I was talking to Head Librarian Thøøm about the work you're doing. He was very complimentary! It's a real help having you around keeping track of things, he said. And you know, I'm a real fan as well! I've read your work, and it really is impressive stuff. Great attention to detail. Oh, but Thøøm did want me to warn you about heading back into the Forbidden Stacks, alright? It's one thing to be a go-getting Recorder like you are, but when you start sticking your nose where it doesn't belong... there's consequences, you know? If someone finds out, I mean." He nodded along eagerly, and Winnie sighed. Some guys just couldn't take a hint. "So, the book of yours I--borrowed. Really, you're lucky I found it before someone else did. A lot of people would go straight to the teachers with it, talking about where you've been. Just no discretion at all. But you know, I did find it. And I'm willing to help you out with this! All you need to do is keep on writing your reports, hand them to me, and I'll get them added into the book for you! I'll even point you in the direction of people with interesting things to be recorded! It'll be nice and secure! And--oh, I will have to ask that you don't write anything about me again. I can handle that part myself, thank you. A great arrangement, right? Definitely a much better arrangement than the one where you say no, and I go to the teachers with this book that's in your handwriting, and connect the dots for them. I mean, I can't say I know exactly what would happen if you did that, but... well, they did say the Provost's melted a kid before. You never know! So what do you say? We're partners, right? You and me, in this together, recording everything that needs recording, at SASGY and beyond! Come on, let's shake on it." Winnie's grin widened as she extended her hand. Nothing ever could compare to the joy of a good scheme coming together. A) Go teach Börgar a lesson Name Vote: Place Holders
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Dec 7, 2020 01:12
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  [Tangö - Breaking][Accolades 7] Tangö shivered under her blanket, staring out the window at the sky. Things were always breaking around her, nothing new there. Just because she was at SASGY didn't mean that would be any different. And why bother trying to fix stuff? It would only get broken again anyhow. Stubbornly, sullenly, she tried to sleep. Tomorrow would be better. Days were always better. C) Vote: Place Holders
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Dec 7, 2020 14:47
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 Aptitude: Tailoring (Defensive) Accolades: 7 -> 18 Cards:  Argh, this wasn't getting her anywhere anymore! Änna stood up from where she had been observing the school's notice board for the last few hours. She collected the Mighty Measuring Meter, a rickety construction of several measuring tapes and bars located right in front of the board, and grumbled how she already had the measurements of everyone who regularly consulted the board. The location of the Meter had allowed her to quickly get a large percentage of the school population's measurements as she just had to keep watching the board and read off the various tapes whenever someone stepped in front of it. But over the last few days this source had increasingly dried up, as the last holdouts she was missing from her class apparently never bothered to check with the board. Frustrated Änna retreated to the Arts&Crafts room she had occupied with her various projects. While she technically had been assigned a room somewhere in the dorms, she hadn't been back there ever since her bed had broken while she was using it. But it had been no big loss, as most of her time outside of mandatory classes was spent here anyway. Grumbling, she pulled out a long list of SASGY's faculty she had stored here and crossed off two more names she had finally managed to get measurements for. The frustratingly slow pace had already caused her to join the Siegeball team, which had netted her several new measurements, the teams being a sort of magnet for the unrulier and more chaotic students of the school who she wouldn't get with the Mighty Measuring Meter. Maybe now was the time to expand her list of targets, as soon new teams would be visiting SASGY to compete in the 5th Öatsie. Her captain Hardsy had mentioned that he had an in with someone from the Tourney Committee and sizing up the competition was apparently an integral part of the sport. Yes, this would serve nicely to cover up her personal interest she decided. Before she left however, she took the time to replace the lemon yellow tie she had been wearing all day with a fresh canary yellow one, after all she wouldn't be caught dead wearing the same ensemble for more than 4 hours at a time. B) Snoop about your potential future opponents sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 16:03 on Dec 7, 2020 |
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Dec 7, 2020 16:01
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Accolades: 10 -> 21 Shumpsy put the metal saw back down. No, no, no, this wouldn't do at all. Professor Böhm was adamant; working on anything Traps related with unsteady hands was a surefire way to lose fingers. Shumpsy leaned back in his chair as he considered things, perhaps today he would visit his mom. After a quick nap and a bath, of course, he wouldn't want her worrying about him. The trapper got up, pushed his chair in, and climbed into his bed. - - - A few hours later, Shumpsy was awake and ready to go. Just one last thing that needed doing; Yväs wasn't back yet. Shumpsy jotted down a quick note for the team's dungeonmaster. Note posted:Hey buddy, With that taken care of, Shumpsy began the long walk to his mom's house. The SASGY campus was already a safe distance from Tömate proper, and her house was on the far side. Shumpsy passed through the market district, through Unexpectable Row, and weaved around the government district to get to the city wall. He knocked on the door of a small house wedged against the wall. His mom answered, and the two hugged. "Shumpsy! What a nice surprise! How did your first game go?" "We won, Mom! It was a real blowout!" "Come on in, I've got a pot of soup heating up. You can tell me all about it." A) Go visit your family
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Dec 7, 2020 17:50
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 Accolades: 6->17 Bömba took the fancy Fancies' giant card down with both hands and as he held it, felt his expression mellow upon reading a heartfelt apology for having so unfairly stolen and drank his Grämmäma's lemönade. He grimaced uneasily. For one, it would've been nicer to hear that in person. For two, it felt genuine, if almost too sweet. Sweeter than the lemönade (which was very sweet, and probably filled with lots of love). The young Frö sighed and ran a hand through his spiky hair, wondering what to do. He'd run out of spiteful vigor for the day if this kept this up and... could he truly let that happen? Drop his gallguard? Here, at a school, no less? Thankfully, all the other assorted pamphlets pasted across his door fired his annoyance reactors enough to let him stay vexedly contemplative as he tore them down. It was true, anger could run low - or even out - at times, no way around it - especially for those who used it as tool and all-consuming passion both. You had to work to stay angry - to perfect that razor's edge of not losing your cool, but still being mad enough to get up every morning ready to take on all comers. Which was hard when things had been going rather well of late, what with winning and making friends and getting a sweet scarf and all. Maybe he could... write Grämmäma about things. Both the friends and the Place Holders' sweet victory. She'd be so proud (she always was, which took some of the joy out of it, but anyway), but that wouldn't exactly help his flagging spirits (or, well, it would, but not in the direction he needed). Alternatively, he could go back to Plan A or B, either of which was sure to generate aggravation at the very least. Bömba's train of thought came to a crash when his hands came across the final poster, a curiously grey-black slate - almost impossible to read. It had been pasted behind every other pamphlet (now occupying a small pile on the floor), so whoever had done it must've been up early - or way late. Trying to get a better sense of what it said, Bömba stepped into his room - his alone, for now, after the Provost had melted a student (or at least that's what he'd heard). He read it. Then he re-read it, eyebrows raising. Huh, that sounded... interesting. He wondered if they'd accept Lemönade as a viable drink. Attending: x) Rot Night Voting: Place Holders
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Dec 7, 2020 21:58
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Accolades 8 -> 19 Now that the match was over, it was back to business as usual - Wörm's uniform elevated his presence to the unimagined heights of "not getting a second glance." In his civilian clothes, he was practically invisible. He didn't take it personally - he'd just spent the past interminable-yet-eternal length of time with his teammates, after all. In peacetime, they had work to do, friends to catch up with. He had hallways to stand in. It was all the same, really. Sure, he could be trying his hand at purposefully sneaking around somewhere on the grounds, but Wörm was really a very straight-laced man. Not much taste for mischief or shenanigans, despite how well he synergized with Trinique and Winnie's specialties on the battlefield. In his awkward middle school days, he'd briefly flirted with trying to stand out - dressing in garishly colored clothes, making up loud catchphrases he could tactically deploy for optimal class-clownery. He learned two important lessons from this travesty: one, he had absolutely no sense of humor. Two: gimmicks like that were just a way for people to see him without seeing him. So, he'd just given up and accepted his lot in life. That didn't stop him from hoping, though. He was resigned, but not fatalistic. He might squint suspiciously at the world when it dropped a promising opportunity at his feet, but that wouldn't stop him from taking it and doing his best to improve himself. Joining the team had already turned out better than he could've reasonably expected - so why not join a club? He was already good with his hands. Painting couldn't be that much different from woodworking, right? It was a solitary hobby. There were worse-sounding ways than spending time in a room full of other solitary people, all working on their own projects. Maybe he could even come up with some new ideas for advanced sign-based siegeball tactics. Maybe he could make a reminder of his existence that was so beautiful, it wouldn't accidentally find itself on his family's burn pile. B): Join the painting club. Vote Team Name: Place-Holders
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Dec 9, 2020 08:53
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01 - Trinique C) Acquire a long-snööted törtle The törtle hides in it's shell, making it easy to carry. It is still pretty awkward to conceal on the trip back, but no biggie. Here you are at SASGY again, barely took any time. You put the critter down on a table and sit back, taking in the ambience of the Applied Monsterism in Manufacturing Workshop. Smells of weird tubes and gleaming machines. And also of meter thick regentrock walls. What now, what now. You have plenty of time to think in peace, given that the doors are locked and nobody is supposed to be here today. You dangle a leafy green at the shell's front door. No response for now. Shy are we? Well, it should be easier to work with a slow moving object. But the lack of predictable response is a problem... What now... You could talk this through with the faculty. Get permits and assigned lab hours and whatnot. If you were boring. What you could do instead is to crack that safe open right now and borrow some goop from the vial containing the lab's pluripotent source sample of Monsterism. (They keep it under relatively tight security. Loose enough that an enterprising student can get their hands on it, but tight enough to make it clear that whatever follows from messing with it is your own drat fault.) Then spice up the tört's meal, wire it up into the Cataract Lathe, and Recast it into an useful item. Easy peasy, you've got this. The grapefruit you practiced on back then was admired by everyone until the lab overseer chucked it into the incinerator. Although... the problem remains that the törtle is not particularly cooperative. Purpose is the key to Recasting, or so they say, and you don't think that the törtle understands right now that it's purpose is to help you win at Siegeball. Maybe you could take it with you to your next match. Show it the ropes so to speak. Yeah. That should work. Maybe? This is cutting edge science you are doing. Changing the world with the power of törtles. Sounds way better than writing research papers and stuff. You could make it into armor, probably. You hear that there's a workshop out in some other city that makes helmets and shields out of them. Seems like a natural fit. Yet the dream of aiming higher remains in your mind. The törtle fort. A living, moving creature, not just something warped and then cooled down into a mostly inert object. There's been some research into making "wendigolems" but its been slow going. Even SASGY had to put the Archimeritecture project on hold by crown order as it made the ambient Script poisoning levels skyrocket to the point of disrupting Thumbscrew transmissions, not to mention the more delicate instruments. Tad risky to be doing in the capital. In the weirder branches of utilizing Monsterism, the kingdom has been largely buying their results from abroad. Happy to reap the rewards while exporting the risk to as far away as possible, aka Neötypia. Weenies. Better to ask for forgivance than for permission. If you can rope in more of your teammates, and start the fort "by accident", the faculty will no doubt "reluctantly" let you continue it. That is if the törtle ends up cooperating. You could commission a nail to keep it obedient, but getting it used to sieging conditions is paramount.  To become siegeball, the tört must learn siegeball. [0/50] required for making a piece of personal Siegeballing equipment [1000] required for making a Siegeball fortification Developing posted:Cards with a counter like a above are Developing. --- 02 - Grön C) Focus on making sure the egg is cared for properly There. You close the lid on the incubator box you cobbled together. The weird egg rests snugly under a heater lamp, being mysterious. Candling it proved no answers so far. The shell is so thick that no matter how bright light you used, you could see nothing but vague shapes inside. Nothing to it but to wait for it to... develop more? Your contact was pretty clear about being only interested in avian eggs. You'll hopefully get a chance to determine what the hell this one contains soon enough. You leave the egg to it's business, and lean back in your chair. On the far wall, looms the giant of Ö. A ghoulish, charred scarecrow. Sure to give your roommate nightmares.  --- 03 - Winnie - Greeting(cordial). Winnie(03). About game(Siegeball)... agreement. Yes. Having stopped writing book titles into his notebook, Börgar mumbles his greetings, in his slow, monotone manner. Good old Börgar. Yup, good old buddy is happy to have a friendly chat. Good old Börgar. Oh this is going nowhere. You hoped that bringing up the Forbidden Stacks would get a reaction out of him, but he remains frustratingly oblivious. For a while you wait for him to get the hint. He remains silent, the only noises around are the rustling of library goers, and the faint thrumming noise of Indexing taking place beneath your feet. Oh come on. Only after painstakingly walking him through what a great friend of his you are, can you see gears starting to turn in his head. - Uhhmmmm.....(ponderous) - They(indefinite) do report that the Provost(SASGY) melted a student(freshman, Traps)... Possible. School(SASGY) records note a missing person(from year- Hey now, no wandering off track! After all the effort it took to get him thinking about something relevant. Where would this kid be without you. quote:- You never know! So what do you say? We're partners, right? You and me, in this together, recording everything that needs recording, at SASGY and beyond! Come on, let's shake on it. - Uhm, yes. (agreed, pensive). Winnie(03) to receive reports. - Person in question(Winnie), to remain... unrecorded(weird, unsettling, good idea? strange, agreeable(possibly), som- Börgar yammers on. You lean over towards him. A snide look at the notebook he's holding confirms that, yes, he's writing down his words at the same pace as he's speaking them. You snatch the notebook out of his hands. Off the record, remember?  --- 04 - Soup C) Open the door. Suffer through doing more of Porth's schoolwork for him. Porth's essay is not something that you have particular interest in, but whatever, you'll do it for the chance to find out how the hell he managed to get messed up so bad in Siegeball despite the protections in place. A Mindbender system overload? Porth goes on to elaborate about conspiracy theories about a dark underbelly of the Mindbending world, bodyjacking and shadowy figures spying on people's every action. You don't bother listening to any of that. Rather you focus on writing his essay. The subject of which is... the history of the Siegeball armor, figures. Its all based on a powerful repulsive effect produced by certain alloy when held near a Reverberator. A huge, bulky machine that burns crab blood to charge the metal. Similar designs saw some use in both Tö and Frö, in situations like point defense, where the infrastructure could be put in place. Ultimately the armor was too expensive and unreliable to make much of difference. It was then forgotten. Until the experts at SASGY put all the old designs together to make the Siegeball armor. A miracle of engineering that can* save one from a grievous impacts. The Oatsie Tourney games have a Reverberator set up outside the game area, with conduits running under the ground to keep the armors working. The paper you are referencing then goes into a digression about what an indispensable help Meler the Quicksilver was in perfecting the alloy used in the modern armor. One of queen Noggins' "Peacelords". She's so good, so amazing. Its a pretty naked propaganda piece about the benefits of repurposing the Breaker program to peacetime applications. You skip over several pages to where the text gets relevant again, which is near the end. In closing, the armor is pretty great all around. But there are still shortcomings. In recent past, the Mindbender connection was the weakest link, as Porth attests to. Overloading the components would jam up the whole system, leaving it no more protective than a regular armor. Just what happened to your brother. That shortcoming has been improved on since then, but the total protection offered by the armor still comes with an asterisk. It is ultimately quite doable to bypass the barrier if one really wants to. Just apply force in the right place, consistently.  --- 05 - Spoon A) Go shopping for weird stuff at Salient Imports You wander the grand, bustling market hall. You are early, but already people are crowding in. There is no limit to the capital city's hunger for novel things to stuff into it's maw. Apparently this used to be pretty modest operation, until Skipping Lane travel opened up, and blew the lid on exotic imports business. Nowadays just as overpowering as the aroma of the spices is the smell of cash money changing hands all around you. Here be wonders of the world. Crazy multicolored fruit from tropical western Frö. Tinned Underhander meat from the far north, where a lonely Skipping Lane terminal stands alone in the middle of an endless snowfield. A dusty wheel of cheese that you are quite sure was already here since before you were born. Here and there you find the ingredients suitable for your needs. Not going for fancy today. A rough life calls for a rough loaf. A foodstuff that's nutritious and will last is critically important when a siege drags on for days. On the sporting fields, but also otherwise. Such as when the head of the school declares a surprise emergency lockdown drill. All access to the outside world is banned, and the students have to survive on what food and water they have personally stockpiled. Your first one tends to be a rude awakening to what life at SASGY is like. Not that you are worried at all.  --- 06 - Snööd wocks.png C) Ask if they've got any tips for dealing with burnt hair Its an insightful lecture, but you really need to find a way to fix your style. It can not wait. The pyros surely know a way. Too bad you'll miss some of the lecture- ah nevermind. Wocks has lost his train of thought and is just ranting about the horrors of the volcano crab. You leave him to it and lean over to the student sitting by you. Yeah, you caused a flash fire in Siegeball match. Yeah, it was pretty cool. No biggie. Now how do you fix the whole getting burned part?? A stiff fuzz is not your style, and neither is the charring. The other student has a laugh over your story and then describes a mix of chemicals that you should handle with care, but should also straighten out you hair. It works out all right. Finally. Walking around looking like that was giving everyone the wrong impression of what you are all about. new_portrait_portrait.png  --- 07 - Rik A) Take the time to go listen to the recruiter You and Nit make your way outdoors, where a modest group of students are gathering around a stranger giving a speech of some sort. Odd, you don't rememeber there being any sort of official event scheduled. Who is he even? Oh well. Either he's someone who's got a permission to be here, or he's a street preacher that managed to get past the perimeter security. Should be interesting either way. - ...and I understand. There have been times when I myself was close to giving up. But I am here to tell you, it does get better. From distance you had thought that the speaker was absolutely elderly, his color sapped by the ages. But now, seeing him closer up you realize that he is close to your age. Yet bleached like a bedsheet. His wispy, gray hair plays in the breeze as he speaks on of his difficult early years, and the kindness of a family that took him in. Hard life out in a small village. Everyone working together to pull through. Celebrations that bring the whole community together. It all kind of reminds you of your hometown. - ...I am happy to have been able to meet all of you. If any of you ever feel lost as I once did, please, do join us in our meeting. We would be overjoyed to have you there. He's finished? Seems like you missed most of the speech. But really, this wasn't a bad way to spend the evening.   Consumable posted:Consumable cards are gone after you use them once. --- 08 - Brûh C) Maybe later. Its time to hit the books! Study hard! Of the subject that you are studying, here at the Academy! The gym plays host to a lengthy and lively debate about the merits of various theoretical forms of governance. It gets quite loud. Any true bro feels strongly about the subject. Because it is a topic of crucial importance, of course, but not only for that. There is also the pressure and excitement to be on the forefront of a new era. Strong, powerful ideas like these used not to be talked out in an open gym, but rather in dark, soundproofed basements. Or so the old farts say. How things have changed! The atmosphere has really eased up now that critics of the crown no longer go missing with no explanation. Some say that things are perfectly well now. Queen Noggins has shown herself to be a friend of the people. Proved by how she answered when asked of who shall her handmaidens be, her chosen successors-in-waiting. She made everybody's jaws drop by declaring that she had no desire to appoint her successor. Rather she would bring over the Fröman system of elective monarchy, where the most powerful figures of the kingdom collectively decide on who shall lead them. And apparently the system is to be expanded downwards, with the inhabitants of each city selecting a mayor to lead them? With even people with no noble background having a vote? Wild stuff. Its almost admirable, but any true bro knows that it is not nearly enough. A mere diversion from true bromunism, that shall rise like a mighty barbell from the rack.  --- 09 - Shumpsy A) Go visit your family  Its a pretty long walk. Just the way you like it. As you approach your old home, so does the sun draw down towards the horizon. Sure, you could have taken a cable car or a horse cab. But this way is better. Life has been pretty hectic lately. So why not slow down and take the backstreets. Its a beatiful evening. Cool air. The old, familiar routes strip your weariness from you and entrap it in their labyrinthe twists and turns. All is calm. Aside from the time when a crazy rear end in a top hat almost runs over you with an automobile. Pulling yourself back on your feet from the side of the street, you are torn between wanting to yell obscenities at the rapidly receding noisy contraption, or resolving to one day own one for yourself. --- Old curtains. The ones with the blue birds on them, bleached by sun. Clinking of porcelain tableware. Someone who is happy that you are here.  --- 10 - Hörg A) Confiscate poo poo from the new Architecture students Its real cheerful like at the gang lounge. All cheering and hollering. Is that your gang mate Brunt that everyone is gathered around? Yup. He is getting expelled from the school for a particularly egrecious misconduct. The gang are throwing him a party to congratulate him. The guy must have gone real far this time. Real ugly business. Just what a henchman wants in their CV. Arguably better than graduating. Depends on where you are aiming to work at. Smirking, Brunt brags that he's going to become a mountain bandit. Hah, that's a good one. Not with his grades. You flip the gang safe open and pile things in from your confiscation sack. There's letters from family... eyeglasses... some jewelry... a thick roll of bank notes. Very tempting. Nobody would notice some going misssing, but you would. Rules are rules. This is all to teach the freshmen a valuable lesson. You close the safe dutifully. Another good deed done.  --- 11 - Änna B) Snoop about your potential future opponents - Yeah, I've some details on the other teams. Not as much I'd like though. Hardsy steeples his fingers. - I can ask around the Tourney offices, they've paperwork on all the participating teams. But those only tell so much. - The win/loss records will tell in general how competent they are, but everybody's going to have surprises prepared. Stuff they don't want to reveal in advance. - Strategy. You've got to keep your eyes open. Let me tell you what to be on the lookout for...  --- 12 - Wörm B): Join the painting club. - Hah, I just can't get the hang of this. Your new friend gives a nervous laugh. Aimed at you? She must be making small talk with you, given that there is nobody else in the room. You put down your paintbrush for a moment to give your surroundings another look. Tad empty. Its a smallish meeting room or some such. Rarely used, practically forgotten. But now the floor has been dusted, the houseplants replaced with living ones and the walls lined with messy paintings. On the door hangs a sign "Painting Club - Newcomers welcome!  "- Just a little more... She stares intently at the fruitbowl serving as the model, putting final details on her painting. - Aand, there. - Looking... well, not great, but its better than my last one! She seems a little nervous, but still happy. - Getting pretty late. I'd say we call it for tonight. - ...You know, the only other people I know who like painting are from before I came to SASGY. We don't really have the time to meet up for hobbies anymore... - So... thanks for showing up. Its been a while since I had any company here. She starts packing up her brushes back into their box. Humming quietly, until she remembers something! - Oh right! I didn't see your painting yet! - Come on, let me see what you've made! She walks over. - Woah! - That's real nice, have you been doing this before? She picks your painting off the easel and grabs you by the wrist. - You've got to meet some friends of mine. They're going to love seeing this! --- She drags you off, down the elevator, and out of the front door, running to meet up with a group of people drawing away from the SASGY campus. The sun is just starting to set, lining everything in gold. You can feel a gentle breeze on your face, and the music playing from a thumbnail box on the ground.  - Uhm, Wörm, was it? We're all meeting up next week for a dinner. You'd be more than welcome to come.  --- 13 - Bömba Cable car ride to Old Tö-Town. Some wandering to find the warehouse. Then party time. A crowd of people. There's a makeshift stage. Musicians. Drums, horns. A singer. Its not a tightly packed venue at all. Or, well, there is a fair number of people, but the compared to the huge, mostly empty warehouse it feels fairly roomy. Other youths. Pretty varied lot. A few other SASGY students, but mostly others. Some well dressed kids from better part of the city. A bunch of scruffy ones. A couple of them seem kind of dismayed and keep their distance from you and the other SASGY crew, but the rest of the new faces are very eager to make friends. They have plenty of questions about your life. What's the school headed by Unexpectables like? Is it true that your teacher melted twenty kids with a giant magnifying glass? The night goes by in quite pleasant terms. Lemönade is appreciated. Someone offers you a bottle of hard liquor. What would Grämmäma think. — Good e-ve-ning, assholes! The music stops. A girl with rad tude addresses the crowd. — You had enough of being bored yet? Cause its time for the pit! Line up! Line up! The pit. You'd been hoping that someone would finally explain that. At the center of the warehouse, the floor tiles have been torn out, and a wide, fairly deep pit has been dug into the ground.  You wake up back in your dorm room. Not that you'd like to. Continuing to sleep would preferable, but your headache is getting way too bad for that. You manage to open an eyelid enough to see that the sun is setting. You've slept most of the day already. That night... How'd you even get back here? Someone might have called a cab at some point, but you also kinda feel like you spent a long while wandering the streets. Its all blurring together. The bed creaks painfully as you wrench yourself into sitting position. The party. You had a good time, you think? You feel great thinking about it. With the stuff and the music. Yeah. And then the pit. There was dancing down there maybe? The band switched to all drum music at some point. It was cramped. You got into a fistfight with someone. And then someone else. All the others kept trying to ruin your good time. You feel your face. Bruises. Details... any details! There's a memory of teeth littering the ground. Lost in the dirt of the pit. Anxiously, you confirm that they weren't yours. Nope. All right. In that case you feel great about it! What else... You think that someone might have bitten you? Details feel fuzzy. Somewhere around the- ouch. Yup. Taking off your shirt reveals a semicircle of tooth marks on your right shoulder. Must have been a real great night. Hopefully you didn't get any dirt in the wound. Even so, your inoculations are all in order. There should be nothing to worry about. But still, ow. You poke at the wound. The skin feels loose. Might need stitches. Maybe even- OW OW OW, EWW. Another curious poke flips the wound open. A semicircular skin flap exposing bloody blue tissue. Definitely stitches. Oh man, what did the provost say about this sort of thing? If the wound starts looking really cool, come show it to him? After a shower you wander out. Your jacket is missing. You get a feeling that you aren't going to see it ever again. Good thing that you didn't bring your good scarf. You can't really remember the faces of the other students you saw at the party, so you approach people randomly to ask about it. Maybe someone can fill you in on what happened. No luck so far. Until a certain fellow. You mention the Rot Night, to which he responds that he's really bummed that he never went there before the whole thing got shut down. Organizers got arrested. Oh. Word on the street is that drug trade was involved.  --- 14 - Yväs C) Amass more booster packs. Beat goofs at children's trading card game. Construct. Redraw. Process interrupts. Offence. Your opponent gulps audibly. Yet another newbie who doesn't even know the keywords on blue wardians. The goof steels his gaze. Still not conceding? He checks his numbers and reveals his cards. Shipbuilders with Commander support to negate the wrong terrain penalty. With their build points he plays several corpse catapults to place toxin counters on your water source. No more recruiting for you. No matter. You already have enough units on the table to trade all of his away, even if it takes several rounds. Offence. Deploy. Repeat. Slowly but inevitably all of his shelters fall. Blue beats red. Another fool sent crying. And you've barely even used 20% of your true power yet. All of your good units, Nailsmiths, Blademasters, are still in your sideboard.  --- 15 - Zöd A) Declares Vendetta Your fist connects, sending Galgo barreling through the door. His yelling is quickly muffled by the mat of shivering leaves covering the hallway's floor. That should distract the plant. ...Maybe? The movements of the vines are certainly concentrated on where you knocked Galgo, but that's probably just him squirming around. Lots of vegetation in all directions, but you do notice a relatively clear path leading out. Stepping on Galgo, you manage to make the hop over the worst of the foliage, and start making your way towards the stairs up. As you are swatting aside the plant's barbed growths you can faintly hear something behind you. Probably Galgo swearing eternal revenge.  #1 Vön #2 Galgo --- 16 - Spläg A) Confront the thieves directly You get the thieves' attention with some glib talking, and before they even notice it they are waiting for you to show them the trick with the pen you are holding. You get a good running start on the troublemakers before their angry yells start. Around the corner, over the fence, through the crowd. The trio pursue with the tenacity of longtime troublemakers, but soon enough you no longer catch glimpes of them behind you. And here you are. You slam your door shut. It remains undisturbed. If the thiefing students managed to follow you all the way here, they aren't bothering to bang on your door. That's it then. Moving along.  --- 17 - Yelda B) Leave. Channel the rage into your art. A pile of gruesome sketches from the now defunct Wendigo Disposal Facility. The biography of a cobbler who returned from border patrol branded, and then spent decades living in a sewer tunnel and working as a debt collector for a criminal league. The latter chapters are about the new policy picking him up. Then his time under supervision at the Tömate Center of Neötype Support, proving his lack of uncontrollable homicidal tendencies, earning him his certification. His reintegration into society. Then too many chapters about his eventual career in puppet theatre, which honestly feels like a pointless diversion from the rest of the book. That's most of them. Some of the books you were looking for had been checked out already, but you did manage to grab the Campaign Westward. A scripture from the first ROM. Telling in catchy verse the gore stained tale of the Education Of The Vassals. It tells of the Liners who did trample, and wielded the Pikes of Unity which skewered all. It tells of the Chanters, who kept up the spirits of the troops, and wielded the Floofy Poms to wipe their ruler's blade clean of the blood of her enemies. Modern historians don't believe that the ruler in question actually used a sword. Poetic licence you guess. Very interesting.  --- 18 - Tangö The crash of thunder wakes you up. You open your eyes but nothing changes. It is all dark. Wind rushes in through the broken window, filling your room with unwholesome noise. Another gust. You can hear something fall over and shatter. What did there even remain. You'll worry about that later. All that matters for now is that the walls are still keeping the rain out. You turn over to face the wall, and place your pillow on your head. Better. Then, you feel something cold. A steady stream of icy water hitting your side. ...The ceiling boards must have given out. You didn't know that there was a water pipe running over your room, but you can't really say that you are surprised. You drift off. Days are always better. 
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Jan 10, 2021 10:13
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- Hello. Hardsy's greeting is as plain as his wardrobe. He drops his suitcase of official Siegeball business in the corner, walks over to the end of your team's meeting room, and gets to work hanging something on the wall by the chalkboard. Its kind of hard to read. Your team room has dim mood lighting. (You should fix that lamp one of these days.) But now, there it is. On the wall hangs a freshly made plaque, proudly displaying your new name: The Place Holders. Fetching, but the design is not quite final yet though. Not yet ready to be etched onto your precious Glimmering Gong. It still needs a someone to catch the eye. A mascot. Deciding on one is a part of the day's agenda, but Hardsy seems to also have something more pressing on mind. - Now, you might have heard the term Oatsie Tourney Committee. The group that organizes this grand competition spanning two kingdoms. It was them that managed to get Frö roped up in this sport despite all the bad blood back then. Bunch of SASGY peeps occupying those seats, but also many others. - The reason I bring them up is... - ...that, the thing is, there is something you should know, about all this. Hardsy gestures vaguely towards the chalkboard. He takes a sharp breath. A false start. Slower now. He furrows his brow, feeling out words with his mouth. ... - ...No use putting this off until later. - You are ready to hear the dark secret of the Oatsie Tourney.  - The secret is that the organizers don't give a hoot about what teams they match up against each other.  - "Careful considerations", bah. They pull names out of a hat. I've seen them do it. - That's because I know someone inside. I could angle to get us a matchup of our choice. Yeah, call me a nepotist, if you have to. He shoots an annoyed glare to the side, and sighs before continuing. - So yeah, we have some leeway. Pick our battles and go for a trophy. Bask in all that praise and prize money. But the thing is, if you would, Änna... The tailor places an open book and a bunch of papers onto the planning table. Piles of sketches and writeups of Siegeball players current and old. - I don't know that much about the teams competing this time. There's several new ones, and many old groups have broken up. I can't really rig the bracket in our favor if I don't know what the other teams are fielding. Thankfully, there's been a delay, and we've a fair bit of time before our next match. Lets make most of it and plan for potential opponents. - I've already gone through most of what info I have with Änna, but lets all share what news we've heard. Rumors posted:
-~X~- You finally walk out of the charged atmosphere of your team meeting. Fresh air. So. Your next match has gotten delayed by several weeks. That's... a bit jarring. You had been expecting to be playing several games of Siegeball in a pretty tight timeframe. To have that just drop away has left you with surprisingly little to do. Well, you are still busy. The academy will always keep you busy. But still, less to do than you were expecting. You could spend the time on independent studies, or you know, take some time for yourself for a change. This could be the opportunity to pick up a a new hobby, or a chance to visit your family even if they live further away. The sky is the limit. But soon enough this relative idleness is over. Poof. That was it. How did you spend the time? quote:A) I have focused on bettering myself quote:B) I have made some questionable life choices quote:C) I have joined an interest group of sorts -~x~- And here we go again. Sorry for the unannounced delay! Holidays happened, and this format of downtime proved less than well thought out, whoops. Hang on for just a bit longer. Next time you'll finally get to spend your Accolades! Recap posted:Post:
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Jan 10, 2021 10:14
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 Grön itches their chin, then steps forward. "I've heard that the Ill Frömen were unbanned this year." "They have a reputation in the underground leagues for, uh. 'Unfortunate Accidents' falling on them and anyone unlucky enough to play them." "Heck, whole reason they were banned from official competition was a fluke wendigo riot going through the audience stands." "Nobody knew how they even got there, s'like the popped out of the air weirdest thing" "Not even their fault, but the way that sort of thing kept happening meant it was the final straw." "Something must've changed if they were allowed back in. Or hefty bribes. One of the two." "Maybe they sorted out their miserable luck, who knows?" ---- "A mascot? The flaming giant of Ö." "Yes, flaming. Wasn't fun to go through, but it made for a real striking image." "Failing that, a törtle makes a close second." ---- Grön had to consider their options, but in the end it wasn't a hard call. Their contacts technically could help with being a Neötype, but their methods weren't exactly certified. Or, uh. For Öans. Of any variety. cough. ...There was some appeal in becoming an Öan, honestly. Losing their skillcore would've been rough, but... Well, wouldn't need red dye anymore. But no, Grön had enough interest groups for the time being. In the end Grön opted to take some time off to practice. They were dealt a good hand, now it was time to make use of it. ...Well, maybe after seeing what the provost found. That's always good fun. A) I have focused on bettering myself
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Jan 10, 2021 12:17
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[Snööd - Greasing][Cards N/A] [Accolades 22>23][Team Credit 3] [Using Card: N/A] Snööd held their head still. The hair treatment would take a little longer to be permanant, and the pyros recommended avoiding moving or touching it as much as possible for a week or so, to prevent it crisping and breaking off in chunks. A few more days... But the chemical concoction had opened up new avenues in their mind. No, not because of the noxious fumes. Well, not just because of the fumes- greasing with grease alone was not enough, that was clear now. By adding a little of this, a little of that, you could create a grease so greasy... Anyway, team rumours. "I heard the Sea Maws got a new mega-pump, if we're matched up we should be prepared for a flooded pitch." "Mascot? Why not pick that törtle Trinique has been carrying around everywhere? Seems as good a choice as any." A) I have focused on bettering myself
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Jan 10, 2021 16:48
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Accolades: 17->18 The bite wound was swabbed with some extra-strength lemönade - unsugared and bitter - which took the sting out of the wound (mostly by replacing it with a fiercer one). An old wives' trick - Bömba wondered what the provost would think of it. Probably call it a waste of lemön, but it wasn't as if the Anger Manager was lacking for the stuff. For all his grousing about lost Lemönade, Bömba had plenty left. Grämmäma kept sending more, the sweet and sour old dear. His wound really ached, as did his head. On reflection, he really should've sat down and written a letter, but... ugh, that would've taken the entire night and mellowed his harsh, as it were. Instead... he'd ended up in some - in a fight? Had he been under the influence? Felt like more than booze had got to him, but what did he know? Mostly... he knew he had a burning sensation in his chest that just wouldn't let up. He was still mad. Furious. About something. Something that had happened that he had no idea about, which only served to make him made him madder. And at the core of it... Pure anger. This might've just been worth it. For him. Anyone else... there'd been those teeth. He tried to recall, but the details kept slipping, skittering away from lucid memory. His head throbbed. It was a beautiful day outside. A stark contrast to this weird inner turmoil. The lash of rage he felt at that motivated him enough to grit his teeth and head out the door, headache be damned. He'd go ask around, find out more about the night. Surely someone else remembered. At least one detail stuck in his head. Hadn't there been members of another Siegeball team there? And someone had put up that pamphlet. "Salt and sourlime! Coach Hardsy's not gonna like this." A) I have focused on bettering myself He did write that letter, in the end. Rumour: Other Siegeball Player(s) Were At The Rot Night "Hey team! So I was at the Rot Night! Yeah, was cool, super illegal - I think, nobody remembers - but now I think I'm literally possessed by pure anger. No, it's fine, I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be? Anyway, the thing is - oh man, you'll want to hear this - I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only Siegeball player there! And if this is how I still feel after a night in the anger pit, pit of pure anger or whatever, then odds are someone's gonna be taking their fury out on the Siegeball field. I mean, I'm going to - but you know it's not the same!" Bömba hasn't remembered or identified who it was, but he's pretty certain he wasn't the only Siegeball player attending the Rot Night - and without Bömba's well-honed anger management strategies, how well are they holding up? At a guess he'd say they'd be fiercer, meaner and more reckless, at the very least, filling up with Pure Anger. Possibly they might explode. Metaphorically, or... sort of metaphorically. It could be a thing if it's in combination with certain aptitudes. Someone might field a Göth or even a Vändal, is what he's saying. And yes, the existence of those may just be exaggerated legends out of ancient history, but Bömba's got a feeling. There but for the grace of Anger Management, y'know? Mascot vote: "Why not THE GONG? I think it's the most beloved and iconic thing we own as a team! Besides the baths, but those got moved to the faculty rec center."
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Jan 10, 2021 17:59
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New Gear: #01 - Trinique Aptitude: Stealing - Offensive Accolades: 20 -> 21 // Team Credit: 2 Deck: 0/10 // Discard Pile: Rules Lawyering, Athletics, Tactics, Engineering, Flashback, Contra-Band, Stealing, The Extreme The Tö thief-in-training Trinique puttered around her hoard-cluttered dormitory room, a living space which had come into her possession nearly fully furnished after she'd taken it from an upper-classman who had dropped out of SAGSY for personal health reasons. Trinique was looking for something specific amidst the sheer amount of stuff piling up in the room, but she was having a hard time remembering where exactly she'd put it. Though most of the assorted nick-knacks inside the dorm were technically hers now, only about 5% of the things stacked up against the dormitory's walls and scattered across the surfaces were things that Trinique had personally purchased with her own or her parents' actual money. Everything else was stuff that Trinique had either found, lifted, "borrowed," or traded for. She had an allowance, sure, but she didn't like to use it unless she absolutely had to. Most importantly, though, all of it was hers. At the center of it all was a table with a box on top it surrounded by fresh green leafy produce, all of which was left to bask under a warm light hanging above. This little green ecosystem in Trinique's life was Bölder the long-snööted törtle's home, and it gave the girl much peace to maintain. As Trinique leafed past an odd stack of paperwork beside the törtle table, Bölder emerged from his shady spot under a rock to work through a stack of leaves with his snoot. "Oh Bölder!" Trinique squealed, deftly grabbing the törtle and lifting it up high into the air. "Have you seen my homework assignment for tomorrow?" Bölder scrabbled at the air with his claws and playfully licked at Trinique's fingers with his long and tiny tongue. Sometimes the fingers had food, so it was worth at least a little nibble to test. "Don't bite, Bölder..!" Trinique patiently bid the pet while poking a finger at its very boop-able nose. "Have you seen that key-majigger to that rolltop desk in the dean's old study? I need it!" Trinique set the törtle on top of a stack of hollowed-out books, which Trinique had been working on converting into secret hollowed-out box-like compartments with sharp knives and glue. One day, Trinique was going to have an entire library full of secret compartment books, to hide all of her things! "Here: keep a lookout, Bölder." Trinique said to the tower-stranded törtle, and she ducked down to continue rummaging through more drawers full of assorted bits and baubles. Bölder had endured enough of this nonsense in such a short time period, however. After a second of waiting, the törtle crawled towards the leafy green canopy of food on the table below him and he slipped and tumbled off the tower of hollow books, knocking his shell off the edge of his wooden terrarium and landing with a thump in the sand that lined the floor of his box. The stack of hollowed-out books he'd been standing on flopped over and collapsed to the ground far below. "Bölder! What did you do!?" Trinique bellowed, standing up with scattered books sliding and falling off her back. "I leave you alone for one second, and- oh, there it is! Nice!" Trinique bent over and retrieved a brass key that had fallen to the reed floor amidst the stack of secret-compartment-books. She smiled as she pocketed the prize, all sins forgotten. "Guess it was here all along! Thanks, Bölder - be back soon!" Beyond a quick parting glance and a wave, Trinique departed into the night. She had a test to prepare for, and her "study hall" required her to climb more than a few buildings... as an educational practice. 1) Rumor: The Mad Mole mascot from Gado's Tunneling Circus is actually a Wendigo in a suit! Those claws have got to be real! 2) Mascot: Why, Bölder the long-snööted törtle, of course! 3A) Trinique has been taking better care of herself and her new pet!
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Jan 11, 2021 04:20
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Hand: Deck: 7/7 remain Accolades: 20 > 21 Team Credit 1 That was a solid opener, though making sure if they tried anything again towards his stuff was extra credit, and he was nothing if not a good student. Thus, A: I have focused on bettering myself. Mascot: A Decoy Siegeball Rumours: Be wary of the Expectables. A thug-heavy group, they do everything they can to spell out to their opponents precisely what they're going to do, then they set out to do it anyway. A real steamrolling, meatgrinding team. AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 05:42 on Jan 13, 2021 |
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Jan 12, 2021 03:15
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Gear:  #5 Spoon Accolades: 13 | Team Credit: 2 Rumour: "I heard Neötopia U's gonna be competing again this year, they've managed to wrangle a bunch of non-wendigo exchange students to make up their team to just below the legal Wendigo limit, but they always make it hard to tell who are the Wendigos and who aren't" Mascot: "I do like the törtle idea, it'll show those folks running up against us that they won't crack us no matter how hard they push us, the people who say the best defence is a good offence never seem to have a good plan for when things go wrong, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy." Improvement: A) I have focused on bettering myself "I get nervy around needles, the idea of undergoing surgery of any sort doesn't sound like my cup of tea so I'll work with what I got thanks." TheNabster fucked around with this message at 16:56 on Jan 12, 2021 |
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Jan 12, 2021 16:51
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[Tangö - Breaking][Accolades 17>18][Team Credit 1] Rumour: "The Sea Maws are right jerks. I hear they pop out of the water and just steal stuff right out from under you. All's fair in love and siege, I guess, but I always found it a little bit rude!" Mascot: "I mean, the Törtle is as good as anything! I like them a little furrier and softer, but, I mean... probably something a little hardier will stand up better to my... issues." Improvement: B) "I have made some questionable life choices...I didn't mean to. I broke a vial I was carrying for one of the professors, and then..." Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 18:00 on Jan 12, 2021 |
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Jan 12, 2021 17:51
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Deck: 7/7. Accolades: > 16 | Team Credit: 2 1:Rumour Heard team from old country, The Nice Picks are playing this season. Survival experts. Cold weather, heavy packs, sleet, walking uphill both ways in a blizzard? Nothing phases them. Except old coach Wörter, now I don't know if he coaches any more, but his theories on Weaponized Jokes brought the team many victories and some of his teachings are bound to linger even if he isn't around. 2: Mascot Hm? Everyone knows törtles are the Heart of Sieging. No animal better portrays the slow-but-steady advance of entropy, and they make for good field-rations besides. 3: A; Bettering Oneself. What? Voluntarily contract monsterism? Please. Doping is for fools who couldn't piece together a pit-trap unless they turned their hands into shovels. A real Siege Ball player is prepared for everything, now just frontal assaults.
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Jan 12, 2021 19:45
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Brüh Deck: N/A Hand: N/A Gear: Accolades: 17 > 18 Tenets of Bromunism: 1. Always Spot Your Bro Bruh put down her writing pen, satisfied with the first chapter of her Bronifesto. She had long had an internal list of rules that a bro should follow in order to have a chill, vibin’ life good for everyone. She would keep working on her thesis as her Döctoral masterpiece to show her mastery of siegery. That was a long-term goal, however. For now, all she wanted to do was to spread the Word of Bromunism. Chapter One: Always Spot Your Bro without being asked Follow bromunism and we all make Gains, meatheads! -------- Bruh entered the team’s meeting room straight from the showers. She’d had a great workout. It was leg day and she had bested her highest weight for both squats and deadlifts. Gains were made, gym rats! Chads and sads alike would be jealous of her muscle tone and power. Bruh raised a protein shake in honor of the gains of the past and hope for the gains of the future. May everyone be so blessed in their lives by the gym. Hearing the discussion of the other teams starting, Bruh thought back to what her guys were saying while she spotted for them. The meatheads were high fiving over the recent successes of the Frojan Neöhorses. Apparently, the Neohorses specialized in siege towers. They would build large, powerful, beautiful, (and embarrassingly anatomically correct), siege towers in the shape of their enemy’s mascot; either their foes would be demoralized by the destruction of their own mascot by their own hands or the siege tower would get to their enemy’s walls without damage. Bruh wondered how that would work for the Place Holders, though. A featureless, crimson orb is hardly stable enough to stay against a wall and building a sphere out of wood would be difficult to say the least. She shrugged and started womaning the bar at the back of the room, passing out shakes, protein bars and lemonades to whomever requested one as the discussion really started going. --------- Later, Bruh put on a cloak and snuck out of SASGY. Not everyone would appreciate her choice of lifestyle, not even the best bros of the vibest gym in the chillest of neighborhood. Making the choice to go back to being an Öan was not one to do lightly. But Bromunism required it. Nothing and no one should stop a bro from making their own gains through hard work and mutual spotting, not even a skillcore. Bruh would prove this in the best way possible- as a coach. By showing that even the weakest, skillcore-less oan can make gains, Bruh would show the way to tossing off the shackles of society and Oh Gee alike so that a better way can be had for all through spotting one another, interval training, sweat and protein shakes. Not everyone would understand in her team. But she was sure that they would correct her form and encourage her to do one more rep whenever she was reaching her limit. That is what made the Place Holders special. tl;dr: Frojan Neöhorses- build siege towers that look like enemy mascot Mascot- Crimson Orb Personal Choice- C
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Jan 15, 2021 16:29
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Rik Aptitude: Polishing Focus: Offensive Accolade 21 -> 22 "Huh," Rik says to Nit. "Surprisingly little info about knights." "Yeah," the girl replies. "Listen, Rik, I gotta go. The Flights have practice tonight. But, we should do this again sometime, yeah?" "Sure. The next crazy, ranting person I see, I'll think of you." The silence goes on a little too long. Nit offers a quick "OKBye!" and practically sprints away. Rik internally adds another regret to the pile and heads to his dorm room. As he walks up the stairwell, two voices echo down to him. "-lying skillcore?" "Yep! Courtesy of a now-quite-rich gravedigger." "So you're gonna-" "Oh no, this ain't for me. I've got all my slots planned out. Nah, I'm feeding this to Aurora before our next match." "Your ashenwing? Do skillcores even-" "Who knows? I guess we'll find- ssh, footsteps. HURRAH FOR QUEEN NOGGINS, EH!?" "Uh, Hurrah!!" Rik turns the final corner and walks up the final flight of steps, past the two teammates. "Hurrah," he says to them, and steps into the corridor, and then his room. He sits at his desk, looks at the mound of paperwork ahead of him, and sighs. Time to polish his brain. ----- Rumour: Someone's feeding their ashenwing a flying skillcore. (Or lying, or supplying, or bullying etc., but flying makes most sense.) Effectiveness unknown. Mascot: Orb! Personal choice: Bettering myself.
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Jan 17, 2021 03:30
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Accolade: 20 -> 21 Team Credit 1 Soup wandered past an Öan recruitment center one day. Not having to care about the politics of Tö and Frö sounded good to him, so did not having to worry about being a pawn of the OGs should they ever come back. Soup had no strong feelings against taking emotional suppressing drugs to stop his aptitude from developing into a skill either. Unfortunately, when he came back to the recruitment center for scrubbing, it turned out the pills had put him more in tune with his aptitude than before. The assessment of the Doctör was he'd need to come back after gaining a skillcore and try a different procedure. Rumor: Porth is still playing on one of the teams despite the lasting effects of his injury the previous year. He excels at directing uninspired offenses like a straight charge down the center of the battlefield but drags his team down the rest of the time. Mascot: A Törtle
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Jan 17, 2021 11:20
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Accolades: 19 -> 20 Rumor: Heard that Fröötlööps have been doin' pretty well. Mostly cheerleaders, agility stuff. Showmanship, vaultin', boardin' enemy siege constructs, that kinda thing, ye get me? Ye wouldn't expect that kinda thing ta be a successful siegin' stratagem, but then again, been hearin' that being unexpectable is the heart of siegin'. Mascot: Ehh, ye don't put us delinquents in charge o' official Mascots or nothin'. Whatever it ends up bein' though, I'll TAG it fer sure. Personal: Choice A's a bit obvious, ay? A thug's got to keep in shape, 'n becoming a Neötype's all about not bein' in any sort o' shape, ye? 'N the weird Ö cult's in higher echelon of adversarial hierarchy than us, 'n we can't go messin' with the system like that.
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Jan 20, 2021 10:43
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Yelda - Cheerleading Accolades: 16->17 Yelda's mandatory Neotypicality tests showed no more than the standard levels. Her Adrenaline proved a little elevated, but in a girl her age, with her peculiar look, that wasn't so odd. She'd bettered herself, exactly like she was supposed to. No one had anything to fear. "An upperclassman told me that Hazard Patriots got a special allowance for paying off rival teams, as long as all money changes hands mid-match. And they've raised the cap on bribes, too, I think. Just one would be enough for a whole three-year subscription to Outer Archaeology Monthly... ...Um, I-I totally didn't take a bribe! In case it seemed like I would have. H-haha." (Voting törtle.) Poltergrift fucked around with this message at 02:09 on Jan 21, 2021 |
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Jan 20, 2021 23:42
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 22:36 |
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Accolades: 10 -> 22 Rumor: "My uncle Tölliver overheard some bragging on one of his out of town trips. Apparently the Oxnyard Beastmasters have bred what they call 'The Biggest Pig!' It's apparently mean as all get out too." Mascot: "Gotta go with the Featureless Orb on this one. There's a lot more options for themed traps with it. Also it'd suck if people started confusing us with the Törtle Troupe. Like, I'm all about the defense but those guys are just boring. Self-Improvement: "Ah, some of Mom's mushroom-slinker soup was just what I needed! And my uncles were around too! I am ready to resume my studies, just gotta borrow some of Yväs's drafting tools first. A)
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Jan 25, 2021 17:12
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