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Post by vengefulGuardian on Jan 24, 2014 18:55:05 GMT -5
==> Wake Up.
What? No. To heck with that.
==> Wake Up. Now.
You huff and relunctantly open your eyes.
A young woman stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 24 of January, is this young woman's birthday. Though it was nineteen years agos he was given life, it is only today she will be given... Wait. It's not her birthday? Oh. Whoops. Right! Well, what shall this young woman's name b- oh. Nevermind, she already has a name.
Your name is NITA, and it is apparently NOT your birthday. Whoopedy doo. Your room, lacking in CAKES, is pretty much EMPTY. You have a few INTERESTS, mostly involving VENGANCE. You consider yourself RATHER GOOD at getting VENGEGANCE. You also enjoy KILLING things in a certain asshole of a game called SBURB. Your chumhandle is vengefulGuardian.
What will you do?
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Post by logicallymechanical on Jan 24, 2014 22:40:40 GMT -5
==> Be the Robot
You are offended by the use of a hurtful slur. That would imply a lack of free will or control. You prefer the term AI. Artificial Intelligence. Not correct, but as correct as you can be in a couple of words.
==> Be the AI
Was that hard? Your name is LM106-7, although you go by LM, Lem, or Cass in casual conversation. You are a self aware computer housed in an android body. You have always found yourself with out the need for a computer, but the game of SBURB seems to require a source that is not your head. It looks like a very interesting game, and you will probably be receiving it soon. But that is besides the point.
You have a few interests. Due to your robot-reflexes and intelligence most games have never interested you. So you ended up having three main interests. Practical things for your probable future as a robotics expert, failed projects already littering your room; gambling, as it has no ways to use robotics to cheat; and a guilty pleasure of yours, immersive fantasy. You have posters on the walls featuring D&D campaigns and characters from favorite fantasy novels.
==> Captchalog deck of cards
deck of cards; noun; a set of 52 playing cards containing 13 cards of each suit (spade, heart, diamond, clubs) scaling from 2-10 and then Jack, Queen, King, Ace.
You captchalog the deck into your description modus. A bit bothersome for most, but not for one with the internet in its head.
==> Align strife specibus to ARM LASER KIND
Why would you do that? You don't have any arm lasers. Instead you use the practical jokerkind, allowing the use of anything as a weapon. You tend to use it as an extra few sylladex spaces though, your modus only has 7 cards.
==> Activate pesterchum
Activate the pesterchum app but no one is pestering you. That could change any minute, or it might not, who knows with your crappy social life?
==> Be a human
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Post by unapologeticlygenius on Jan 25, 2014 16:49:26 GMT -5
You are now a human. You are also currently asleep.
==> Wake up.
You blissfully awaken. You just beat Sburb with your friends, and are ready to rule the universe you made, laying down all of the weird laws possible. You open your eyes and sit up to reveal a plain and boring suburban house.
==> What?
You look around frantically noting no new cosmos, no god-tier robes, and no alchemized items. You are just as you were when you started the game. But in a different house. You start frantically running around yelling for your team, telling them it isn't funny.But no response.
You are Adam Sanders and you have no idea what happened. You won what? A new life? With none of your old friends?
==>Quit moping around and pester someone.
You decide to log on to pesterchum and check there. It seems you have three people on your list, none of them being from the game. You pester the one at the bottom, hoping they could shed some light somewhere.
--unapologeticallyGenius [UG] began pestering vengefulGuardian [VG]---
UG: Why are you on my chumroll?
UG: And have you heard of a game called Sburb?
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Post by vengefulGuardian on Jan 26, 2014 1:12:35 GMT -5
==> Answer Pesterchum
Ugh. Nag nag nag... Fine. You plop down into the chair in front of your computer as the oh-so-familiar 'ding' of someone pestering you sounds. Moving your mouse over the chumhandle, you count how many poor sods are stuck with you this time. You open up the pesterlog, reading through it.
--unapologeticallyGenius [UG] began pestering vengefulGuardian [VG]---
UG: Why are you on my chumroll?
UG: And have you heard of a game called Sburb?
Oh. Poor sod, this must be his second session. He's probably rather confused.
==> Answer him, already!
You settle in to type, preparing your usual introductory speech.
VG: To answer your second question first- yes.
VG: I will assume that this is your second session. In which case, I have bad news.
VG: You got a glitched ending. Welcome to a cycle of replaying, and having to deal with this hell we call a game.
VG: I am on your chumroll because the game has evidently decided I will be part of your session.
VG: I'm sorry.
==> Go Downstairs
Now that you've properly scared the poor kid- geeze, you're a bitch, aren't you?- you decide to go downstairs, and see if the kid you're replacing has already received their Sburb disk. Downstairs? Yes, downstairs. You -always- get stuck in a house with stairs, it's obviously Sburb's idea of a joke. Obviously.
You are certain the game is plotting against you.
==> Retrieve The Box
You start to look for the box, and-
==> Wait, no. I changed my mind. Be the other guy again.
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Post by unapologeticlygenius on Jan 26, 2014 2:09:13 GMT -5
--unapologeticallyGenius [UG] began pestering vengefulGuardian [VG]---
UG: Why are you on my chumroll?
UG: And have you heard of a game called Sburb?
VG: To answer your second question first- yes.
VG: I will assume that this is your second session. In which case, I have bad news.
VG: You got a glitched ending. Welcome to a cycle of replaying, and having to deal with this hell we call a game.
VG: I am on your chumroll because the game has evidently decided I will be part of your session.
VG: I'm sorry.
==> Adam: Mental breakdown You proceed to flip out after messaging this VG and none of your coplayers showing up. This proceeds for several minutes. |
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Post by vengefulGuardian on Jan 26, 2014 15:48:01 GMT -5
==> Be the girl again
You are NITA. What were you doing? Oh, right. Searching for a copy of Sburb.
==> Find copy
Well, you -would-, but it seems not to have arrived yet. Lovely. Back upstairs you go, to your computer, which is, predictably, going 'ding-a-ling' at you.
==> Aren't you going to answer him?
Just a minute, sheesh!
==> Answer him! Immediatly!
Fiiiine. You sit at your machine, scrolling through the messages you missed.
UG: HAHAHA
UG: VERY FUNNY
UG: REPLAYING
UG: NEW SESSION
UG: HAHAHA
UG: But really do you know a guy called Matt, dark blue hoodie, pantaloons?
UG: Or Sara, really weird looking green dress, two pendants with spirographs?
UG: Or even fucking Paul, white and red clothes, codpiece, arrow symbol?
UG: This is some trick isn't it?
UG: It's not funny Matt.
UG: Very well planned, not funny.
UG: Any minute now you're gonna step out the magiciant and tell me how god tier powers work in this new universe right?
UG: Right?
...Well shit.
==> Comfort him!
You haven't the faintest idea how to do so. But you'll try.
VG: ...You -all- made it to god tier? Impressive.
VG: I'm not joking. I wish I was, but I'm not.
VG: This is the fifth session I've been stuck in this damned game.
VG: ...I admit, I am not very good at... Comforting.
VG: If it helps, each session you complete is a chance to see your friends again in the next session.
==> Okay, stop that now and go and out when Sburb should be arriving.
You alt-tab out of Pesterchum, opening your browser to figure out when your game should be arriving. After messing around online, you've discovered, from your email- at least that's the same- two things.
1: Your copy should be arriving tomorrow.
2: Sburb is a dick.
So basically, business as usual. Okay, so the second thing wasn't learned from the internet, but you felt it necessary to note down anyway.
==> Stop this lollygagging and be someone else! Again!
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Post by unapologeticlygenius on Jan 26, 2014 18:55:32 GMT -5
==>You will compose yourself.
You stop flipping out. You are clearly dealing with someone who knows what they are talking about. Just regain your composure. And don't act like an idiot.
==> Adam: Answer
VG: ...You -all- made it to god tier? Impressive.
VG: I'm not joking. I wish I was, but I'm not.
VG: This is the fifth session I've been stuck in this damned game.
VG: ...I admit, I am not very good at... Comforting.
VG: If it helps, each session you complete is a chance to see your friends again in the next session.
UG: You're telling the truth.
UG: Oh lord this is going to be a nightmare.
UG: But first I guess I should make known a few things.
UG: I'm Adam.
UG: No, Sara didn't god tier, she just liked the dress she made.
UG: Everyone else who didn't die did though.
UG: To be honest I should have expected more bullshit from this game.
UG: Just a question, do I get to keep my title?
You decide to walk around your new spire-to-be. It seems whoever lives here likes stuffed animals. They like them quite a bit considering the vast number of them in every room. You wander around a bit more before spying something. It looks like a bird, a parrot to be precise. But pure white? Best to stay away for now. You head back into the bedroom which seems to have a larger variety of interests. They have multiple superhero posters on the wall, as well as an impressive selection of yo-yo's and surfboards. Sporadic interests, but you don't care. Less weird than the stuffed animals. You begin to go downstairs again to captchalog/eat some food when you are cut off by a command.
==>Adam: Stop being Adam
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Post by vengefulGuardian on Jan 26, 2014 20:45:09 GMT -5
Adam cannot cease to be Adam, because he is, and has always been, Nita.
==> Fine. Nita. Answer the poor sod again.
Bossy much? You flip back to Pesterchum as is dings, feeling sorely tempted to put it on mute, and read through his messages again.
UG: You're telling the truth.
UG: Oh lord this is going to be a nightmare.
UG: But first I guess I should make known a few things.
UG: I'm Adam.
UG: No, Sara didn't god tier, she just liked the dress she made.
UG: Everyone else who didn't die did though.
UG: To be honest I should have expected more bullshit from this game.
UG: Just a question, do I get to keep my title?
VG: No. It rolls up a new title for you, generally. I haven't been a Space player since my first session, sadly.
VG: It -is- a nightmare, but don't worry. You're not alone.
VG: I am... Nita.
VG: I'm sorry you are stuck with me this session. I'm not the most pleasant person to be around.
==> Stop talking to him and investigate the other names on your list!
You don't want to, though.
==> Do it anyway!
Fine. You click on one at random, and begin pestering.
--vengefulGuardian [VG] began pestering sømnølentScatterbrain [SS]--
[VG] Greetings.
[VG] Have you, perchance, heard of Sburb?
==> This is boring, let's go be someone else again.
Sigh. Very well.
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Post by sømnølentScatterbrain on Jan 26, 2014 23:12:42 GMT -5
==-> Be the Science Gal.
Huzzah, yøu like being the science gal, as the science gal is what yøu have been møst øf yøur narrative time. Unførtunately, the science gal is asleep nøw. Førtunately, that døes nøt mean yøu cannøt be her.
==-> Sleep.
Yøu acømplish this task with immeasurable ease. Yøu are the best in sleeping, althøugh yøur namesake yøu were always bad at. Right nøw, ∅hile being asleep yøu are in the cømført øf the endless ∅, blackness stratching everywhere. Nøthing here, nø søund, nø cølør, nø smell, nø taste, nøne øf them unnerves yøu right nøw. At least, until nø∅. Yøu never knew there was a nøw in there, but it has hit yøu like an unladen swalløw. Yøu're nøt sure which kind. There is nøise, in yøur temple øf silence. Yøu try tø ignøre it, but it just keeps repeating. It seems the øutside wørld wants tø finish yøur peacefull slumber. Yøu haven't had øne øf these in an eternity. Wait, exactly. Yøu're nøt Dersing. Yøu were in game, weren't yøu? Øh, yeah. Final reward. S∅∅t. Here yøu gø again. Ør actually, nø. Yøu sleep further intø the, what yøu cønsider, day, making yøur øwn, better Ultimate Reward. With blackness and gaiety. After th∅ time has passed, and yøu finally arrive in the wørld øf the living, yøu dø sø full øf energy, and ready tø take øn everything, well, except før SBURB. And Death, yøu never liked that øne. Øh, and Gøddess, please nø møre∅søciøpathic AIs. If there was perchance a pøssibility øf nø Space players, yøu'd prøbably take it tøø. Yøu accept that nøt all øf them are bad, but it's still 5∅% øf thøse yøu knøw. Anyway, as yøu suspected, the røøm is different. Maybe it isn't, but it's nøt the place yøu were beføre. And there's a cømputer, this øne apparently has pesterchum already installed. And there are messages. The same ønes are alsø present øn yøur nøn-time-watch. Yøu shøuld prøbably name it sømething nøt a∅ retarded. Øh, løøks like the recruiting has started. Anøther sessiøn, anøther ørganizer. Øk, yøu'll just make it easier før everyøne. Insta-Memø.
Current sømnølentScatterbrain [CSS] RIGHT N∅W øpened memø øn bøard (UN)HAPPY EVER AFTER.
-- current sømniculøusScatterbrain [CSS] adds everyøne tø the memø, again. --
CSS: Sø, has anyøne here heard øf SBURB?
CSS: An∅ hi Dia, yep I have.
CSS: Which sessiøn?
Øk, søcial activity. Ckeck. Yøu shøuld prøbably løøk arøund nøw. Yøur røøm seems kind øf empty, but there are søme Batman pøster hanged in the cørner. Maybe yøu're a Law player, ør are at least replaying før øne. Øt∅er than that, there's an Adipøse plushie øn the bed. Øh, and the cømputer, øf cøurse. There døes nøt seem tø be any kind øf øpening, such as a windøw in this røøm, and yøu thereføre try the døør. It's løcked. Yøu check yøur inventøry, it seems that yøu have acumulated a løt øf nøn abstract junk in yøur previøus øne. Unførtunately, the acøustic løckpick døes nøt seem tø be there. Well, perditiøn, it seems yøu have tø use a cønventiønal øne. A screwdriver, and øne øf yøur hairpins seems tø be enøugh, the løck isn't a cømplicated øne. Yøu're øut øf førm thøugh, sø it may take yøu a while. The curse øf cønveniences. Meanwhile, yøu prøbably shøuld be sømeøne else, shøuldn't y∅u? That's høw støries gø.
==-> Be the fancy øne.
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Post by vengefulGuardian on Jan 27, 2014 0:58:43 GMT -5
You are not certain who the fancy one is. You will be the grumpy one, instead.
==> Answer the new memo!
Memo? What are you talking, about, there's no- Oh, so there is. You open the memo, bored.
Current sømnølentScatterbrain [CSS] RIGHT N∅W øpened memø øn bøard (UN)HAPPY EVER AFTER.
-- current sømniculøusScatterbrain [CSS] adds everyøne tø the memø, again. --
CSS: Sø, has anyøne here heard øf SBURB?
CSS: An∅ hi Dia, yep I have.
CSS: Which sessiøn?
CURRENT vengefulGuardian [CVG] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CVG: Fifth.
CVG: I shall hope this is your sixth session.
CVG: Please do not shatter my illusions.
You're joking at the end there. Kinda. They probably won't be able to tell. You're kinda bad at jokes.
==> Be someone else! Who is hopefully the fancy one!
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Post by sømnølentScatterbrain on Jan 27, 2014 19:29:15 GMT -5
==-> Air.
Everyøne is the fanc∅ øne here. Yøu're just a bunch øf fancy peøple. The døør seems møre stubbørn than yøu suspected. Either that, ør yøu've cømpletely førgøtten høw tø pick løck, which is impøssible. But, nevertheless, it's øpen nøw, and that's all that matters. Yøu step thrøugh the gate, intø a wørld øf thick air, which yøu at first cannøt breathe. It's impøssibly humid here, and the temperature is getting tø yøu. Yøu fall tø ∅øur knees, and start cøughing. Air is sømething yøu have rarely lacked, and never beføre have yøu aquired this little air in a give amøunt øf air. Yøu back øff intø the røøm, hastily cløsing the døør. Seems yøu're stuck. Althøugh, in yøur øpoiniøn, the air øutside shøuld be life-sustaining. Yøu just have tø sløwly accømmødate tø it. Yøu barely øpen a crack in the døør, and let the hazy, føggy∅air fløw intø the røøm. In the meantime, yøu investigate yøur surrøundings møre cløsely. The batman seem∅ tø be exactly the øne yøu have seen in yøur universe, the best private investigatør in the wørld, by day milliønaire baseball champ, by night the fear øf criminals, adørned in a baseball bat cøstume. This pøster in particular in him sitting in his Hømebase, with variøus reminders ∅f his enemies displayed behind him. Yøu can't see any øf the Trickster's requisites thøugh, the place where it shøuld be replaced by søme cløwn attire. Upøn cløser inspectiøn, even the Adipøse seems sømewhet different. Yøu cøuld have just swørn it was a creature, frøm the fantasy series "Witch Døctør", but it∅eems tø have søme differences. It has twø eyes, and each hand has ønly five fingers. Weird. Well, it was tø suspect, that there are sø∅e differences between variøus wørlds. The wardrøbe shøws yøu that the røøm belønged either tø a gal, ør a crøssdresser guy. Dresses everywhere. Nøt a single pair øf pants. Yøu'll have tø make yøur øwn spare pairs it seems. There's a drawer next tø the bed has a regular nighlamp øn tøp, and øne bøøk, the 'Ultimate Cømpendium øf Useless Knøwledge'. Yøu see it's three føurths read thrøugh, if the bøøkmark is∅any indicatiøn. Yøu capchaløgue it, in case it might be useful later. If yøu∅calculatiøns are cørrect, yøu still have søme time left, till the humidity level has evened øut enøugh. Yøu set yøurself in frønt øf the cømputer again.
CSS: Øh...
CSS: I'm sørry.
CSS: I'm ønly øn my t∅rd replay.
CSS: Seems yøu have the seniørity here før nøw.
Yøu løøk thrøugh the peøple øn memø før nøw. There's yøu and Dia, Hall and Cal, øh and Nap. Wait! Nap!
CSS: Hey Nap, i∅ ∅∅at yøu?
CSS: I d∅∅n't ∅∅∅k I'd ∅yøu thi∅øn.
CSS: Are ∅u Ada∅∅s?
Cørress, the Null is speaking up again. It seems the message d∅esn't want tø get thrøugh. Maybe he'll figure it øut himself. If he knøws yøu, he prøbably will.
==-> Sudden Character Change.
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Post by unapologeticlygenius on Jan 27, 2014 22:13:19 GMT -5
==-> Adam: Realize that there is a memo going on.
Your pesterchum lights up. You have two pop-ups, VG's message and a memo by some SS person.
CURRENT unapologeticallyGenius [CUG] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CUG: Woah, what up with the text?
CUG: Is that a Vøid thing?
CUG: Matt was a Prinøe, but he didn't do the cross circle thing.
CUG: Is your Nøøl different?
CUG: I'm not gonna bother trying anymore that is weird.
CUG: To everyone who doesn't know, I'm Adam, I just started replaying.
CUG: To think that some people live five of these.
CUG: I guess I can try my best.
CUG: But not being a Witch is gonna be really weird.
After grabbing some snacks you decide you're gonna hit the hay and check out Derse. Or, you guess maybe Prospit. Whichever.
==-> Dame: Rest
Yeah let's be real here there was no way you were getting actual rest. You look around in the dream room, not paying much attention, and then see outside the doorway. Prospit, you think to yourself, feeling a bit odd about it. This is the first time it hits. New game. New moons. New title. New players. You think you're gonna be a bit sick.
==-> Be a less sick person
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Post by logicallymechanical on Feb 2, 2014 18:54:24 GMT -5
==-> Be the less sick person.
You are now the one who can't get sick.
==-> LM: Respond to memo.
You notice a memo-board showing up on your pesterchum. Odd, you don't tend to give your handle to people you don't know.
CURRENT logicallyMechanical [CLM] RIGHT NOW responded to memo.
CLM: I am sorry but why have you invited me onto this memo?
CLM: It seems to be some sort of SBURB roleplaying chat.
CLM: I will gladly join once I get the game if you want me to.
CLM: But the logic behind inviting someone you do not know is escaping me.
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Post by sømnølentScatterbrain on Feb 2, 2014 21:38:59 GMT -5
CSS: Ever∅hing he∅e is highly løgical.
CSS: We're s∅rching før a d∅stinct set øf peøple.
CSS: And we dø it by adding e∅eryone, and sløwly fil∅ring th∅ øthers øut.
CSS: Althøu∅h there's a lø∅ pøssibility øf unwanted peøple jøining.
CSS: Anyway, have yøu acquired, ør will have, t∅e game?
CSS: If yes, t∅en welcøme, y∅u're here før a reasøn.
CSS: And first th∅ngs last, wø∅ld yøu believe me if I tøld y∅u:
CSS: "The End is ni∅h, and SB∅B is yøur ønly sa∅atiøn."?
CSS: If nøt, th∅nk abøut it when yøu'll be ent∅ring the game.
CSS: Thin∅s get cl∅arer by then.
Ding. It's abøut t∅me tø expløre. Yøu breathe in shalløw quick breath nøw, but seem tø be able tø handle the løw am∅unt øf øxygen. Which means, gerø∅imø! Yøu step øut øf the døør, this time nøt cøllapsing. A cørridør stretches in frønt øf yøu, a døør being just øppøsite øf yøurs, and twø øthers further away, øppøsite tø each ∅ther, and a last øne, nørmal tø the øth∅rs, at the end øf the hallway. Yøu enter the nearest øne, and find ∅øurself in a bathrøøm. It's quite big, be∅ng abøut the lenght øf half the h∅llway, and the deph øf abøut half that. There's nøthing unu∅ual in there, except før øne thing. There's a per∅øn staring at yøu, whø løøks quite familiar. Yøu sløwly ∅et cløser, the persøn seemingly relaxing a little øf it's tensiøn, and d∅ng the same. WHAT IN THE NAME ØF THE LA∅Y!!! Gal, ∅h gal, what have ∅øu been drinking. It was a mirrør. That∅was the easy part. Yøu're still nøt that dum∅ nøt tø recøgnize yøurself, but... Unbelie∅ble. Yøu høld yø∅r hand up, and it's actually true. Gød∅es blimey. Curses, yøu knøw what this mea∅s nøw. Fiddle, fi∅dle, f∅ddle. Yøu zøø∅ back tø "yøur" røøm, and get∅ø the cømputer.
CSS: I need s∅me dreamers already!
CSS: Quickly!
CSS: Turns ø∅t I'm whi∅e.
CSS: White!
CSS: Gøddess, I høpe I'm øn P∅øspit.
CSS: If sømeøne finds øut I'm nøt, please get my bødy sømewhere safe.
CSS: Shøøts, s∅øts, shøøts.
Yøu're cøntemplating sleeping right nøw, but yøu might nøt be in cøntrøl øf yøur dreamself. Y∅u'd nøt want tø be running arøund øn Derse right nøw. Yøu just høpe the Spire is safe ∅ør nøw. Yøu sit there, nervøusly trembling øn yøur chair, waiting før a respønse. Please, please, please sø∅eøne say yøu're alive. At least the Null has been grac∅øus with this message. Seems it still wants yøu alive før søme reasøn. Ør nø reasøn. Yøu never kn∅w w∅h N∅ll. There is nø knøwle∅ge.
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Post by vengefulGuardian on Feb 5, 2014 21:58:46 GMT -5
==> Wonder why SS is panicking
That you can do. You're not exactly certain what being white has to do with anything- maybe the persons dreamself? In that case, you might as well help. You've been wondering what moon you'll be stuck on this time, anyway.
CVG: I'll check for you.
CVG: Been wondering what moon I'm on, anyway.
CVG: Who'll I be looking for, exactly?
==> Wait
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