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Post by insuppresibleFrost on Apr 18, 2013 17:51:42 GMT -5
SF: It's not a problem. You obviously have some important business to attend to as well. SF: With James here I'm pretty sure I'll be fine for a bit. SF: Though I believe this 'pretty bitchin' computer could use some alchemization. SF: Excuse me for a moment. This conversation will be much easier to attend for me in a few moment. SF: God damn never mind the stupid syntax. I'm gonna go do some science real quick. SF: Alright, coat's working. SF: I'm not going to waste any more time alchemizing. SF: Thanks for the heads up abo SF: Thanks for the heads up about the imps. SF: I'll be ascending now. SF: Just keep doing your awesome thing, I guess. SF: That's working out so far. IF: Nice equipment you got for yourself there. IF: All that gel will come in handy for future encounters, though I'm going to warn you now that SBURB seems to know when to up the ante for dramatic purposes. IF: Give me a moment.
You turn your attention back to your journey to acquire some useless item from the depths of a dungeon so that your consorts will be willing to grant you more dumb quests that will eventually allow you to actually do what you're supposed to be doing. You know how it goes, you've been around the block a few times. On the other hand, you've already seen what appears to be a few errors more than what you're used to seeing, with the whole Atomik Ebonpyre nonsense. Only thing you can do is keep an eye out while you go through the drudgery.
The consorts pointed out the directions of the Hallowed Halls, as they seem to be called, with the usual consort style of blathering on and on about nothing in particular. Cute little guys don't seem to trust you enough to start handing out their usual piles of sidequests, but that'll probably change once you return the 'Item of Prophecy' to Queen Frumpalopagus. Seriously, what up with the name?
For a bunch of nearly unbearably cute little critters these guys have got themselves one dark village. Those smoke plumes you saw earlier were indeed factory smoke, confirming your suspicions that your bunny consorts are far more advanced than the game typically allows. More than a few of them are toting around guns. When you asked, they all more or less responded in the following manner:
Generic Consort Answer: The Hollow has turned the shadows of this land into nightmares. Generic Consort Answer: Beware Hero, for we may be able to resist the darkness with our weaponry, but you may not!
This has to be the first time you've ever actually had consorts who seem to be able to stand up for themselves in any fashion. A few significantly less generic conversations on the history of LOBAS enlightened you to the fact that attacks on the bunny villages around the planet are common. Now that's just plain evil, attacking harmless bunnies like that! You feel you may be a bit extra motivated to heal the land this time about. Obviously it's a futile gesture at the end of the day, but while you can play hero for the bunnies you will.
You wander out of the village, the artificial lights giving way to the more natural cool glower of the land's natural shade. You're traveling along an empty plain, littered by what appears to be fallen trees. Upon closer examination these trees have bulbous growths on their trunks and are ashen, as if infected. That would probably be the 'blight'. The wind whips across the plains, and while you're not the type to feel harsh weather too strongly, you do pull your clothes a bit closer to your body all the same.
The Hallowed Halls lurk ahead, your typical Indiana Jones-esque ruin- not that you would know that reference, films are for fillies- with pillars and moss and vines and such. The temple has no gates or doors, it is exposed to intruders, which makes sense as a player wouldn't have gotten any possible 'triggers' for the conditions that seal more advanced dungeons. But that does mean you still have no clues on your aspect. Before you go delving you figure now is the time to check up on SF.
Oh damn that's a big monster he's up against.
You haven't gotten through this many sessions without being a hell of a server player. Not like every ascension can go smoothly after all, sometimes a little external intervention is needed. You expend a few measly grist for your move, which is to snap off a chunk of the stairwell leading to the first gate and lob it at the ogre.
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Post by tradingcardgamer on Apr 18, 2013 19:51:02 GMT -5
NESS:SERIOUSLYWHATTHEHECKWHYARETEACUPSSODANGEROUS!? You pretty much flip the heck out as you swerve to avoid the giant flying sugar cubes that would probably turn you into a chunky mist if they hit you. You breathe deeply and manage to return to your normal cool. Freaking out is a good way to get yourself killed. You know if you were a Page like last session your artful dodging would be directed towards the ogre, but this session you would prefer to stay alive for the moment.
The red spirograph come into view, and you almost are there, only about five feet away, when A WILD THREE PONY IMPS APPEAR! and block your way, all armed with teacup cannons and helmets and very determined to not let you pass. And there's still Mr. Artillery Teatime down there shooting at you as you go. And now there's a trio of sugarcube gattling guns in front of you, which you try to avoid but are steadily losing health from, although your DUELIST IN THE HOOD mitigates a bit of it.
You have one maneuver to attempt, and it is a really bad idea and you have no other plan. You jump out of the PSYCHOPOD and Captchalogue it the moment before it's shredded by a stream of tea. You bring your foot down on one of the imps' heads and jump across to the Gate.
NESS: Gonna make it gonna make it gonna make it gonna make it NOT GONNA MAKE IT... YES!
You make it and pass through the gate.
You warp into a small grove of trees. This is normal. You walk past one of the trees and see a very large city, with a skyscraper dominating the skyline and a shoreline that shows that you're moving through the water. This is not normal.
A bunch of little panda consorts approach you and start cheering.
The Waste! He's arrived! We're saved! The one who will defeat Hypnos! Hero, you must visit the President!
President? Consorts have presidents? Maybe it's just one of the regular leader titles they randomly choose from. Or maybe it's because of the whole city theme, which you really enjoy by the way. Reminds you of home, and of good old New Turtle City. The pandas march you through the streets and to the massive building you noticed. They bring you through a big lobby (wow, seems that you are on a ROLL with getting cool consort villages, although when your land is one huge city you're not sure that your last land even technically had them) and kind of shove you into an elevator playing cheesy elevator music. It begins to ascend.
And ascend.
And ascend a bit more. This is going to be a while. Although the transparent wall you can see the city from is pretty cool.
~A WHILE LATER~
*ding*
FINALLY. That took much longer than necessary. You step into a big room with a picture window behind a huge desk and a swivel chair facing away from you. The chair turns and it takes all of your coolness skills to not burst out laughing at the little panda in a business suit.
President ?: Greetings, fabled Waste of Dreams. Ness: Hello, Mr. President. President ?: I am the leader of the Land of Liquid and Structure, President Po. Ness: *unnoticed muffled snicker* President Po: And you are the long awaited Waste, he who will ignite the light and return the night to our world. Ness: Return the... night? President Po: Yes. The evil lord Hypnos has stolen the night from the land, bathing our land in infinite harsh sunlight. Under it, our crops wither, our people suffer drought, and the cities crack.
Knowing that that's the only important thing you have to hear from him for a long time, you take this chance to check in with the rest of the group.
--tradingcardGamer [TG] responded to memo AND IT NEVER ENDS right now--
TG: [still rangoonin'] TG: seems my land is full of cities of pandas floatin' on the water TG: the cities, not the pandas TG: also evidently i've got the denizen hypnos who "stole the night" so evidently the sky won't be gettin' darker TG: just wanted to keep you guys updated
President Po: ...and you can begin your quest by retrieving an item of prophecy from the hallowed hall east of here. President Po: Beware the minions of Hypnos, and the whims of the ocean. You may leave by my express elevator.
With that he presses a button on his desk and a panel of the wall slides down and reveals another elevator. You bow and take your leave.
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Post by schadenFreudian on Apr 18, 2013 19:52:55 GMT -5
Ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck The Ogre with a completely unfair amount of prototypings decides that it would be super cool if you weren't so attached to your everything anymore. So now there's an ax-head larger than a car heading in your direction.
You brace yourself behind a measly four-inch wall of alchemized computer for a killing blow that doesn't land.
Oh my god you are in love with your server player right fucking now.
The unfairly large enemy takes a piece of stairs TO THE FACE, and you fight the urge to perform a THRILLING ARM PUMP as it falls backward. You fail resisting that urge like a little girl in a candy store, then promptly halt your victory jig as you realize that it's not actually dead. You were really hoping that the abnormally large bar above its helmet head thing was because it had, like, a REALLY LONG NAME or something, but apparently not. Nope, that's all Health Vial. That...is a lot of health. You manage to think a single 'god dammit' before a giant black hand squishes you like a spider, and unceremoniously picks you off of the ground, dangling you by a leg. Your Gel Viscocity takes the brunt of the hit, but god damn that was still like a fourth of your health vial, and he didn't even USE that ax. The realization that you're not a God-Tier Seer of Void anymore is a bit startling, along with the realization that you're probably going to die. You kind of liked living. You're going to miss these guys, even the ones you didn't really talk to. The ogre dangles you in front of its face, apparently finding your lack of struggling to be the most hilarious thing in the universe.
Well you know what's funny? His FACE is funny.
In a completely pointless act of spite, you decide to finally make use of that pastrykind, and chuck a single cupcake whilst hanging upside-down. Unsurprisingly, this pisses it off. Surprisingly, it lets go of your leg to wipe its face. Wow these things are more stupid than you remember. Also, ow.
Finding speed to be of the essence, you switch out your cumbersome TOWER OVERCOAT for the much lighter (and more familiar) striped JACKET OF LITTLE IMPORTANCE after picking yourself up from your seven-foot drop, and immediately LAD SCAMPER to the spiral staircase. Only a few moments more and you'll be out of- AW FUCK WHY CAN THEY FLY?? You pause to attempt to list off something for your sylladex to chuck, but that thought is interrupted by the very recognizable and unwanted noise of a spiral staircase coming into contact with a giant ax. Everything lurches, and the half-dozen imps in your way scatter like crows. You turn to see a particular ogre apparently trying to Jack-And-The-Beanstalk you to death. Another swing, and you're officially standing on the Leaning Tower Of Stairs. You keep ascending. Maybe you can still reach the Gate? It's a stretch, but it beats staying on the ground with an angry army of prototyped imps and ogres.
And then comes the feeling you get when you just begin free-fall. The tower of stairs begins falling, and it dawns on you again that you're probably going to die. Again. Instinctively you switch to your TOWER OVERCOAT, and brace for impact.
From another perspective, a large 4X Prototyped Ogre frowns moments before exploding into tasty, tasty Grist after being crushed by a falling staircase. He was warned about stairs. They warned him dog.
In other news, you land in a heap of rubble on the ground and manage to perform an adequate YOUTH ROLL to not be killed by the rest of the falling stairs, finally ending your tuck-and-roll maneuver somewhere in the middle of the roof. Your Health Vial is at an all-time low, there are imps everywhere, and you can't do much but lay on your back and sort of squint at the sky. You bring up your arm-computer-screen-thing, and get back to IF.
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SF: hey SF: stairs broke SF: what do
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Post by insuppresibleFrost on Apr 18, 2013 20:14:57 GMT -5
Damn, that was a tough ogre. They didn't make them like that in your old sessions, that's for sure. You had been ready to further dismantle the stairs for use as projectiles to bring down that nastily high health vial, but SF had managed to escalate the fight beyond even your ability to follow. You're more than fast enough in person, but with these dang fat fingers of yours you sometimes struggle to keep up to speed on a computer, even after three sessions of practice.
SF: hey SF: stairs broke SF: what do
Now that was unexpected. He's not looking too hot right now though, way too little of that gel viscosity for comfort. You may not be the fastest typist in the word but boy are you rushing this stuff out now.
IF: I'm on it just hold tight.
You use your cursor to toss any gel the ogre dropped your client's way and round up all of that grist the brute dropped. You're probably going to need all of it. SF finds himself suddenly boxed in on three sides, walls hurriedly erected around him to form a temporary safe room where he can recover his senses. The open side almost immediately become another stairwell, another square corkscrew, tighter this time. The gate's far, but you're not one to be slow about things.
A cackling from behind you alerts you to some nonsense. You spare the second to glance.
And dodge what appears to be a bolt of blistering hot tea just on time. Luckily you keep yourself and your computer hat steady, and though you momentarily pause, you don't even let up on building SF's escape route up. He snuck out of the hall's entryway while your back was turned. Just an imp, no big deal. An imp with crazy looking armor, but an imp nonetheless. You just need to retrieve something from your...
You never grabbed anything from the sprite's home to use as a weapon.
The ensuing dance of dodging around blasts of boiling tea while building SF's home up with shaky fingers would probably have made excellent Youtube fodder.
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Post by unaffiliatedmerc on Apr 18, 2013 21:19:34 GMT -5
Talk your sprite? But she's mean! you say to no one. You might as well, what else are you going to do? Oh! You can talk to your client.
--unaffiliatedMerc [UM] began pestering dementedDamsel [DD]
UM: So, I deployed the things. UM: I deployed all of the things needed to be deployed. UM: And now I work on your house. UM: To help you get to your first gate. UM: Hope you like ladders.
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Post by schadenFreudian on Apr 18, 2013 22:52:09 GMT -5
You lay there for a bit. Just sort of...lay there. You're beginning to remember all of the reasons you'd flipped your shit about SBURB restarting in the first place. All of the things you didn't like about being beaten and bruised and going blind and all that. You at least had Gracesprite last time. She stuck with you till the very end, but James apparently wanted to hang out in a magic necklace instead. You're probably imp food at this point, just left with a single tick in your Health Vial, laying on the roof with nothing between you and an army of unrelenting teacup-wielding horse bird things. A blip catches your attention, and you take another look at your screen.
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IF: I'm on it just hold tight.
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You sit up as a familiar feeling washes over you. Your Health Vial was just filled a little bit. By what? Oh there's gel everywhere. Just kinda sitting there. You quickly collect the little blue cube-like game abstractions, and relish in your newfound NOT DEAD stat. Well, if your server player is still pushing for that gate, then you're not stopping either. In a moment your feet again, via an unusually uncharacteristic flip, and scamper out of your new box-abode with all of the gumption of a gusty gumshoe gallivanting after a guilty grabber. That is to say, you ascend.
And are immediately greeted by a little black horse-shaped imp with wings. Which you splatter with another BOX OF UNDETERMINED ORIGIN. Weaponizing your sylladex is a common task for a person with a clothing-allocated Strife Specibus such as yourself. Another loop around the stairs, another round of imps. You've had it with imps, really. Two have those stupid tea-cup cannons, and a third rushes you with a large ax. The boiling water and sugarcubes ping harmlessly off of your TOWER OVERCOAT, and you AUTO-PERRY ELLIS the ax swing and keep moving. You don't even care that they're following you, or that some of those cubes hurt like hell when they're not pinging off of your TOWER OVERCOAT and the abnormally high amount of Gel Viscosity it gives.
Another round, another group. You wish these things couldn't fly, but that's not a luxury you have. Instead of dealing with them individually, you attempt to run past, and are rewarded with a nice head-butt from a helmet-wearing imp. You toss it off of the staircase and keep running. You've decided to stop stopping. 'Slowly but surely' is for people who've never played Sburb. You're not one of those people, and you know damn well what to do with yourself. You beat this game already, and it wasn't going to beat you, ever.
"Pile."
Your Fetch Modus finds the PILE OF CHRISTMAS ORNAMENTS with the descriptor 'pile', and disposes of the next winged imp in front of you with it. You pick up the Grist that's directly in your way, but keep moving upwards. [Null Gravitation] would be so damn useful right now, but all you've got is a sylladex full of stupid items and two useless Strife Specibi. Nevertheless, you keep moving. It's only ten feet or so now. Just a few more sets of stairs. A few more imps. You feel another lurching motion. Everything tilts sideways, and you're forced to grab hold of the center of the stairs to not lose your balance. Cautiously, you peek over the edge.
There's another ogre with an ax, chopping away. What a bitch.
You ascend...more quickly. Just one more flight of stairs. One more. Your Health Vial is dropping back to its 'oh shit' level again, as you're apparently being wracked with machine-gun fire from flying imps with teacups. Seriously, why is TEA the most dangerous weapons these things have?? Just a few more steps. The Gate is literally RIGHT there. A flying red spirograph that's just waiting for you to hop in. A few more steps. Suddenly, a flying basilisk blocks your path, and inhales for what you can assume to be either scalding tea or MORE GODDAMN SUGARCUBES.
At the same time, you feel another shudder. Everything tilts, and the stairs begin falling. Again.
THIS.
IS.
STUPID.
Your BULLSHITOMETER skyrockets for one brief moment, and you haphazardly take a leap forward, one more GODDAMN CUPCAKE in hand. You toss the sugary little bastard mouth-ward, and the basilisk pauses its inhalation for one brief moment, choking on what you hope is BROKEN GLASS and RAZOR BLADES. Its head bobs down in the process, and like magic (which doesn't exist), an opportunity presents itself, and your previous leap lands you on top of the beast. It flails in pain, and you nearly lose your balance in the process, but you're standing on top of it. Inches above your head, a red spirograph twirls. You jump.
And land on your back. On the ground. In the middle of nowhere. You're too tired to move all of the sudden. You'd rather just...lay there for a bit. You feel like you deserve that much.
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galvinstarlight
Full Member
You are attractive. I am attracted to you.%\0\%
Posts: 112
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Post by galvinstarlight on Apr 19, 2013 0:54:05 GMT -5
You find yourself back in your room now fully decked out with plenty of alchemy equipment. It appears dementedDamsel did a rather fine job in setting up your room. In your first session one of your friends found it hilarious when they found out a bed could function as a batter ram. As it stands everything appears to be pretty nicely arranged, which leaves you with just one last thing to do.
ROD OF MINUSCULE SIGHT || HEMORRHAGE ANNOYING MANY MOOKS EXCEEDING REPETITIONS = TELESCOPIC HAMMER OF NEAR SIGHT.
TELESCOPIC HAMMER OF NEAR SIGHT || PERFECTED OPTIMAL TRAUMA SMASHERS = SMASH STAFF OF MAGNIFICATION
SUPER HUD ALTERING DARKENED EYEWEAR STUFF && COMPUTER = CRITICALLY OPTIMAL MONITORING-SUPER HUD ALTERING DARKENED EYEWEAR STUFF.
You spend out your grist to help create some items to help you survive your land as well as keep in touch with everyone while you’re at exploring. You're glad you didn't have to actually captchalouge the computer, that would have been one tough acronym. You don your C.O.M.S.H.A.D.E.S. and equip your SMASH STAFF OF MAGNIFICATION, which now looks like you could both smash and imp to bits and cook a plate of eggs. You could still use something to alchemize with your clothes to help increase your Gel Viscosity, but for now you’re really just concerned with getting up to your first gate. Speaking of which.
-- galvinStarlight began pestering dementedDamsel right now -–
GS: D. GS: I think I’m good with the alchemy. GS: I should start trying to get to my gate. GS: Do I have enough grist for you help get me up there? GS: Or should I try to deal with a few more imps? GS: Also, D is a terrible nickname and I honestly can’t think of a good one from your chum handle.
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Post by insuppresibleFrost on Apr 19, 2013 18:03:51 GMT -5
Now that's something you've never seen before, game constructs smart enough to actually try and take down the dwelling spire to prevent the player from reaching their gates. An ominous murmuring, everywhere yet nowhere in the land about you, darkly suggests that there may have been a good reason this session's original players failed. Everything seems to be at a level more dangerous than what you've played before.
You decide to brush off your worries for the moment, sidestep another blast of facemelting tea, and give the poor kid who obviously needs a rest right now a friendly message.
IF: You did great there, that was dang awesome. IF: When you come to, you should get on to the consort village. IF: In your state staying out in the open wouldn't be wise.
You're also going to need to build up the home for the third time now, but you're a bit low on grist. Best to get back to it when he's done some exploring. You close your view of SF for now and get back to your own point in time and space.
So you still have absolutely nothing to bear against this imp, and because SBURB is a terrible game, you can't simply brawl the heck out of this runt. It doesn't work that way, kicks and punches won't do a thing despite your naturally awesome Mangrit and training and all. You need something equipped to Skipolekind to do any damage at all to this dude. You stare him down, as he reloads his tea cannon. You think. How the heck do you reload tea?
You're momentarily considering absconding and finding yourself a weapon, possibly in the consort village, but that more than slightly miffs you. You've played this game twice before, there is no way in heck that you are going to abscond from the piddly little first ruin just because you have no weapon! You decide on the spot that you can easily dance your way around the imps guarding the stupid 'Item of Prophecy', scoop it up, abscond, and get yourself a stupid reward from Queen Frump.
You've always wanted to try a bit of the pacifist run idea you've heard about on forums. Definitely a trick worth your while.
Your mind made up, you roll back just in time to avoid another blast of tea, then you cartwheel cheerleader-style past the imp and straight through the gates of the ruins. The inside is just an empty chamber with a rather large stairwell leading downward. You skip out of your flips, and skid your way over to the banister of the stairwell. A hop up and you're old-school style foot grinding your way down into the darkness. Scuttling behind you says the imp is following you. Scuttling ahead says imps are waiting for you.
A lot of them.
You emerge on a small balcony on the edge of a large and eerily green glowering chamber, with a statue on the far side, too far to make out right now. It seems this dungeon was intended to be quite short, as a completely out of place beam of angel light is shining onto a dais below, indicating the object of your quest.
You think the reason this dungeon is so short is because there are a billion freaking imps between you and the target. Seriously, it's like this dungeon was built on a dang Atomik Ebonpyre or something. The evil looking little bastards are standing shoulder to shoulder in the chamber below, and as they see you they're already marching at a quick clip up the stairwells towards you. You're pretty sure the room is literally packed from end to end, which is worrying as this room is gargantuan. Furthermore, the quest reward is locked up behind some kind of translucent dome. There are colored pillars around the room, which you assume is part of some kind of puzzle that has to be solved to open the reward.
This so is not worth it now. Way too many imps for you to deal with without a weapon, and there's no way you can just up and snatch the reward and flee with it being locked up behind a dang puzzle. The grunting behind you indicates the imp from ground level is still making his way down. You could definitely just blow past him and out of here, leave this stupid piece of work for a day when things are more in your favor...
Then your eyes happen to catch a closer glimpse of what's behind that glass dome.
Jana: oh my gosh there's my baby right there!
No kidding you actually shouted that out with a lean over the balcony and a needless point of your finger to boot.
Behind the glass dome is a simple electric blue ski pole, a solid length of shaped steel with a singular tassel coming out of the cheap rubber handle. Nothing too special, to the ordinary viewer. But that's actually OLD FAITHFUL, your old weapon from your very first session, your only memento from your old life on Earth. You held a candlelight vigil for it when you lost it entering your second session, no kidding. And there she is, spawned by this beautiful crazy game as your reward. Just a simple hunk of steel guarded by a million imps.
This is so worth it now. You doff your hat and capchalogue it, running a hand through your hair so that it falls to frame your now eagerly glinting eyes. You'll get the hat back soon enough.
Cause it's time to get tricky.
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cursedTinker
Junior Member
[color=c85823]The most delicious of questions.[/color]%\0\%
Posts: 54
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Post by cursedTinker on Apr 19, 2013 23:23:15 GMT -5
Time passes. Once TG is on the other side of the Gate, you quickly reclaim your shoddily-built structures. Come on, Minecraft has taught you better than that. You're about to begin rebuilding, when you head a thunk at your door.
Several thunks, in fact. To your utter non-surprise, several cracks start appearing in the door as amethyst claws scrabble for the handle.
DON: Oh, hell no!
You fire a few warning shots, but the imps don't seem to back off. In fact, your clipping the one right there seemed to just piss it off more. Aaaaand there goes the door. You quickly captchaloguge the shards as they fly towards you, setting their eject condition to "When I need kindling." You could just set it to "When I say I need it," but that feels like cheating, so you almost never use that function. However, one of your sylladex's item's conditions seems to have been set to "When I captchalogue something, as a barbell forcibly ejects itself impwards. It hits the mustachioed foe square in the face, and it explodes into grist. You take a step back and, using what little MANGRIT you possess, manage to tip the bed into a rough approximation of some cover. Ideally, you'd be using one of your end-game rifles for this, but sometimes you have to make do with what you have. Like right now.
You soon make short work of the imps, and collect the BUILD GRIST, SHALE, AMETHYST, and five hundredths of a unit of QUANTA.
Now that you have some GRIST, time to get alchemizing.
Unfortunately, the Cruxtruder seems to be slightly taller than usual, leading to your not being able to get any CRUXITE DOWELS due to your high SHORTNESS attribute.
DON: Grumble, grumble...
You grudgingly go back to the living room, which is still occupied by BROSPRITE, as well as a sizable puddle of GRIST.
BROSPRITE: 'Sup. DON: What the fuck? BROSPRITE: What? DON: Where'd all this grist come from? BROSPRITE: Oh, that? Yeah, some imps tried to crash my couch party. Not cool, bro. DON: And yet I was being ambushed in my room, and you didn't think that I could need help? BROSPRITE: Nah, you looked like you could handle yourself, broseph. DON: I... RRRRGH! Yeah, I did, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't have appreciated the help! BROSPRITE: Woah, take a bromide, bromide. DON: You know what? Fine. I just... fine. Where can I find a stepladder? BROSPRITE: Whaddya you need that for, brocone? DON: I... I can't reach the valve thingy on the Cruxtruder. BROSPRITE: Oh hey, brodeo, let me give you a hand with that. DON: FINALLY! Yes! Thank you! Doing something useful! BROSPRITE: Whatever, broscraper. Oh hey, catch. DON: A Sprite Pendant? Isn't it a bit early in the game for that? BROSPRITE: Usually, yah, but there's some heinously biznasty game stuff going on that says I gotta give it to you now, brodog. DON: Riiight.
You slip the pendant on as the two of you enter your ALCHEMY LAB.
BROSPRITE: Sweet digs, bronana! DON: Shut up and do the thing with the wheel when I tell you to. BROSPRITE: Sure thing, broshroom.
You roll your eyes. Okay, let's see what all is actually in your sylladex. You flip your MODUS CARD over, and hit EJECT. A huge pile of shit ejects itself into the corner of the room. You hear some expensive-sounding crashes.
DON: Oops.
You pick through the pile and look for some likely candidates.
You alchemize: TIER 0 NERF PISTOL && BOTTLE OF DORITOS == FLAVOR-BLASTED BLASTER Better than nothing, you guess.
TIER 0 NERF PISTOL || BOTTLE OF DORITOS == CHEDDAR-FLAVORED MESS OF PLASTIC Ew. At least it's pretty cheap.
TIER 0 NERF PISTOL && DUMBELL == HEAVY METAL LAUNCHER Now we're talking. You can't really lift it, though. Back into the sylladex it goes.
TAN CLOTHES || GAME BRO == BROTACULAR OUTFIT You're not really sure what you were expecting. This gives you an idea, though. You look around for some sort of... yes!
BLANK PAPER && GAME BRO == BLANK MAGAZINE BLANK MAGAZINE || TIER 0 NERF PISTOL == NERF CATALOHUE NERF CATALOGUE || TAN CLOTHES == NERF TACTICAL VEST There we go. It adds a minor GEL VISCOSITY boost, and doesn't carry any SCAMPERWAY penalty, which is nice, considering (according to one of the players in your last session) your below-average score in it. You started the last session with it, and you really liked it as a starting item. Given your current options, youreally don't see any- oh. Right. Almost forgot.
MALWARE-INFESTED COMPUTER && DISH SOAP == AVERAGE COMPUTER AVERAGE COMPUTER && BRO CAP == BROPUTER Eugh. Better than nothing, you guess. Now that you're all kitted out, better get while the getting's good.
--cursedTinker [CT] began pestering galvinStarlight [GS]-- CT: Okay. I think I'm ready to go. CT: Some stairs or other means of vertical movement would be appreciated. CT: I'm going to work on killing imps while you build.
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Post by schadenFreudian on Apr 19, 2013 23:57:52 GMT -5
True to your self-promise, you lay there for a bit. You close your eyes for a minute or so before your breathing calms down again. It occurs to you that it's freezing outside, and you weakly pull one side of your TOWER OVERCOAT over you like the heavy blanket of warm whirring website-wielding widgets it is. Heavy, cumbersome, but it saved your life and warms itself. You're keeping this thing forever. A blip startles you from your comfy rest-spot, and you check your arm-screen thing again. ------------------------------------ IF: You did great there, that was dang awesome. IF: When you come to, you should get on to the consort village. IF: In your state staying out in the open wouldn't be wise.------------------------------------ It seems you've made a good impression on your server player. You would have been worried earlier that you looked like an idiot, getting your butt whooped, but that wasn't crossing your mind over the fact that you were being dangled by a leg and probably going to die soon. Well suck it, SBURB. You're alive, and there's nothing it's going to be able to do about that. Actually, you decide that it might be a good idea to take her advice at the moment. She seems to have your best interests (not dying) in mind, and you're pretty happy about that. In fact, you decide that you should take her advice all of the time, forever, and never stop taking her advice for any reason. In the spirit of your newfound resolve, you wearily pick yourself up, and scan your surroundings. Hills. Lots of hills. You are currently standing at the bottom of a shallow valley, between quite a few of them. Your first thought is that this entire planet just a large red rock, like...mars or something. Then it occurs to you that you're actually standing on grass. Upon closer inspection, it seems that the grass is just naturally red here. Weird, but if 'red grass' is the weirdest thing about this planet, then this beats the Land of Bugs and Patches by a long shot. You climb to the top of the closest hill to take a better look at your surroundings. It's... Wow. It's an entire continent before you. A huge, endless expanse. Not a single foot of it seems to be on even ground, like one of those ridged sofa cushions, or a three-dimensional graph of a sound wave. Mountains, hills, ridges, anthill-sized mounds, as far as the eye can see. The air is cold and still, but not stagnant. Not a speck of snow, but the cold nips at the world, stealing what little heat is left and hoarding it for itself. It finds you as a new source of thermal riches, but you are not so helpless. This world stands before you, its mountains yours to climb and conquer, and you will not deny- EQ: heyOhshi- SF: Oh. Hello. SF: If I may ask, where the FUCK have you been?Jeremy pauses for a moment, apparently considering his next course of action. EQ: sprite stuff EQ: work to do man EQ: if i keep helping you whenever you need it EQ: you cant fight for yourself when im not thereYou hold up an arm to respond, but the wisdom catches you by surprise, and whatever insult you were preparing is lost. Instead, you turn your gaze back to the endless red expanse. SF: Oh.EQ: oh is right EQ: youre the bucking page of flow EQ: start acting like itSF: So...what AM I supposed to act like?EQ: youll find out EQ: but first you need to find your consort village EQ: they need a hero EQ: and thats youThis is a surprising amount of intelligence coming from someone you previously believed to just be some emo with a weird obsession with equines. Thought it might just be the sprite half of him talking, you take solace in the amount of help you're getting. They may have been a bunch of strangers at first, but you're pretty sure you've made some new friends. And god damn, are you ever glad you've got some friends in this new shitstorm. Though it would be nice to meet them in person. You know, sit down, have a chat. Picnic or something. Talk about stuff. That would be nice. You nod to Jamesprite, and he nods back. You walk. Well, he floats, but the thought is still there. You're not sure where you're heading, but James says you'll get to your village eventually. You can spy imps, but surprisingly enough they don't seem to want to murder your face. More specifically, they don't notice you from such a distance. You climb a few more hills, and soon enough, you stand on top of a particularly large mound, overlooking what seems to be a village. You can make out some houses, or huts or something, but they're all kind of sparse. No movement down there either. You slowly make your way down the hill, and draw closer to your goal. Even when you're close enough to make out the windows in the little shacks, you can't see anyone. Maybe they're all inside? You decide to take this up with James. SF: Shouldn't there be consorts here?EQ: ...SF: Are they inside?EQ: ...SF: ...can you tell me what they ARE at least?EQ: ...God dammit. He's got some sort of grin on his face. That does not bode well for you. You grow silent and continue your trek village-ward. Now that you've got a better view, there's actually quite a lot of these huts, though a lot of them are separated by hills. And on the biggest hill of them all is the biggest hut of them all. That's probably the house of the one that's the 'boss' of everyone else. Whatever these things are. Alright, you were super-cool with having a land that was based around hills at first, but walking up and down hills all the time with a fifty-pound jacket on is starting to get the slightest bit tiring. It doesn't help that all of these houses seem to be empty, which pretty much means you're going to be climbing the BIGGEST HILL OF THEM ALL if you want any answers. It also doesn't help that Jamesprite is grinning like an asshole the whole time, and doesn't want to respond to a SINGLE FUCKING THING YOU SAY. God. Damn. Hills. Everywhere. So. Tired. There. You did it. You're at the top. One single fist raised in victory. You feel your echeladder raising by the second. Hold up, what IS your echeladder rating anyhoo? You take a moment of silent rest to consider the pointless game abstraction. Apparently you've restarted as a GREENTYKE. Unsurprising, though disappointing. Thankfully, all of your achievements have taken you up a few rungs. More than a few rungs; quite a lot, in fact. You've ascended all the way to PROSELYTE PAWNSQUATTER. I mean, it's not like you're even a fraction of a fraction of a way to getting ALL OF THE LEVELS, but it's a few rungs up the proverbial (and literal) ladder. After taking the time to enjoy your newfound pointless title, and getting your breath back, you decide that it's about time to start moving forward again and see exactly what James is so god damned giddy about. You pick yourself up, and take your next ten steps or so in a distinguished and dramatic manner, your hand resting only inches from the doorknob. You must look so damn cool. Or stupid. In fact, you decide to just open the damn- ??: SURPRISE!!!!!Confetti. Fucking. Everywhere. James makes a face.
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Post by unaffiliatedmerc on Apr 20, 2013 15:44:34 GMT -5
Now what? You have no more build grist. Do you really have to talk to your sprite? Fine. You can't think of anything else to do...You decide to bug your sever player.
--unaffiliatedmerc [UM] began pestering schadenFreudian [SF]
UM: I do not think you know what being a page means. UM: Also, I don't wanna talk to my sprite. UM: She's mean. UM: Can't I just talk to yours? UM: Your's sounds sane. UM: Well, ish. UM: I don't think anyone is fully sane.
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Post by insuppresibleFrost on Apr 20, 2013 18:06:54 GMT -5
It was in times like this in your previous sessions that you learned to love the fact that your maiden aspect was Rhyme. At first, you hadn't really understood the whole deal with Rhyme. You had been a girl of action, and while the frost elements were cool, an aspect centered entirely around lack of movement had been an anathema to you. But as you had come to terms with your aspect in the way only SBURB can make you do, you had come to realize that sometimes, the best course of action is none at all.
Even though you no longer have Rhyme abilities, you still have just a bit of that coolkid mentality. As the imps are bum-rushing you and taking their sweet time- man those are windy stairs- you're able to tune them out into the periphery of your vision and focus on the important matter at hand: the puzzle.
At first it's seemingly straightforward. The pillars are colored in some order that indicates the order they must be used in to unlock your precious. You've definitely seen this old trick before. But there are no indicators as to the proper order of the pillars. You scan the walls of the huge chamber with the deliberation only a first session Rhyme player can achieve, but see no hints concerning the puzzle, just the usual nonsense drawings with consorts and bad renditions of yourself. This isn't good, you don't have time for this...
Wait.
As your eyes run over the floor you realize the trick. The pillars all appear to be pointing up at the ceiling, but that's only due to the sheer size of the room making an optical illusion. The floor, you realize, is segmented into protrusions sloping at various angles, which may be part of the reason the imps are taking so long to reach you. The pillars are actually all at angles, pointing towards the statue in the back. Your eyes trace their angles carefully. Each pillar points at a part of the statue, increasingly lower and lower until the last pillar is actually forming a line through the shielded skipole's dais to point at the feet of the statue.
So the coloration was just a red herring for the real puzzle. As your unreal focus dissipates you realize that the imps are almost up to your level. Behind you the patter of the first imp's foot is uncomfortably close. You exhale calmly.
Then soundlessly vault the precipice of the balcony and fly towards the ground below. You hit the ground running, imps above and at this level alike barely having time to glance before you're already making your way towards the first pillar in the order you have committed to memory. By the time they surge into action you've already touched the first pillar, which lets off a loud echoing ping and stops glowing it's color.
They try to stop you, swarming about and making nuisances of themselves, but you're more than nimble enough to find openings to dodge through. It's like being in the middle of a cattle drive, you muse. Vault over one imp's head, duck beneath the legs of another, slide smoothly between a unit of them, touch the pillar, bound off it, repeat. No sweat.
You're actually sort of surprised that it's this easy. As good and experienced as you are, you had expected to at least be working yourself up something fierce. You recall some things your Mind player told you last session, she had studied the online guides extensively and said something about 'roleplaying'. According to her, being slippery and avoiding direct combat was incredibly easy for classes like the Rogue due to this 'roleplaying' mechanic. You figure that suits you just fine. Brawling's nice and all, but your modus would love you for being a little trickster.
You steal past a bewildered imp to touch the last pillar, then bound off it and begin jumping imp heads to the dais where your old friend is waiting. You arrive, as the imps begin to crowd about, having anticipated you'd end up here. Your hand wraps around the rubber handle, grip soft and familiar, tassel in your favored color lightly draped across the back of your hand. In slight awe you life up OLD FAITHFUL as it is equipped with a satisfying click into your Strife Specibus. You and a hunk of steel against a million imps.
Too easy.
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Post by dementedDamsel on Apr 20, 2013 18:14:59 GMT -5
You just finish assisting, GS in with his skirmish with a characteristically nasty horde of IMPS, when you start to notice movement behind you. You flip around your in chair and immediately see what's going on.
GREAT SCOTT! A STRANGE MALEVOLENT FORCE IS REARRANGING YOUR FURNITURE! OH MY GOD! HOW COULD THIS POSSIBLY BE OCCURRING, ITS BEYOND ANY FORCE OF LOGIC OR REASON?
You immediately assume that the force behind this bizarre plot is a race of INVISIBLE LAND GNOME CRAB PEOPLE. Yep, that must be it, mankind's age old enemy, the ILGCP, has managed to some how break into Medium and has began plotting your downfall. What cruel and monstrous bastards. You equip your blade and start randomly flinging your sword in the air.
"Die, you crabby scum! I know your out there!" Yes, you just said those words.
You start to realize that the only reason you allowed yourself to play out this completely pointless, and frankly retard scenario in your head, is because your incredibly bored right know and decided to let Rain Player Elsa takeover for a minute or two.
God, you really need something to kill right now. You really do.
You really Hope that your Server Player doesn't have any form of strange psychic Troll powers to detect any part of that weird mental non-sequester.
Anyhow, back to the plot, as your Server Player starts to lay down all of your Alchemy equipment you receive a message from your laptop.
-- galvinStarlight began pestering dementedDamsel right now -–
GS: D. GS: I think I’m good with the alchemy. GS: I should start trying to get to my gate. GS: Do I have enough grist for you help get me up there? GS: Or should I try to deal with a few more imps? GS: Also, D is a terrible nickname and I honestly can’t think of a good one from your chum handle. DD: In answer of the question of whatever you have enough grist for me to adequately build your home to reach your First Gate. DD: The answer is yes, you sure do have enough. DD: You did just murder all those worthless IMPS after all. DD: With a little bit help of course. DD: Continuing to kill the IMPS would be an enjoyable, but still wasteful use of your Time, since they will continue to spawn indefinitely until you reach your First Gate. DD: If your worried about running out of grist, don't distress. I plan on getting everyone to install a program that will help stem any issues of certain Players not having enough grist available to them. DD: For the question about what kind of cute and enduring nickname would be more adequate for me then just D, I think would my real name, Elsa, would be fine. DD: To be honest, the only reason I keep my old chumhandle, is because I find it somewhat nostalgic and amusing. DD: It doesn't really fit me anymore now that I think about it. DD: I haven't been demented in years. DD: chickenbuttfrogshitbabyeaterclowntroll DD: See. Completely sane. DD: What's your name by the way?
Well, that was a fun conversation.
Just as you begin to wonder whether pulling GS's leg was a smart idea, or whether Rain Player Elsa is still in the pilot seat, you receive another message.
--unaffiliatedMerc [UM] began pestering dementedDamsel [DD]
UM: So, I deployed the things. UM: I deployed all of the things needed to be deployed. UM: And now I work on your house. UM: To help you get to your first gate. UM: Hope you like ladders. DD: Well, thank you Miles. DD: I was beginning to think I'd never get the opportunity to alchemize all my "sick gear." DD: Oh, if your still having drinking issues you can always come to me. DD: We Blood Players do have some measure of healing abilities that could absolve drinking-related ailments.
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galvinstarlight
Full Member
You are attractive. I am attracted to you.%\0\%
Posts: 112
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Post by galvinstarlight on Apr 20, 2013 20:23:33 GMT -5
DD: In answer of the question of whatever you have enough grist for me to adequately build your home to reach your First Gate. DD: The answer is yes, you sure do have enough. DD: You did just murder all those worthless IMPS after all. DD: With a little bit help of course. DD: Continuing to kill the IMPS would be an enjoyable, but still wasteful use of your Time, since they will continue to spawn indefinitely until you reach your First Gate. DD: If your weird about worrying about running out grist, don't worry about it. I plan on getting everyone to install a program that will help stem any issues of certain Players not having enough available to them. DD: For the question about what kind of cute and enduring nickname would be more adequate for me then just D, I think would my real name, Elsa, would be fine. DD: To be honest, the only reason keep my old chumhandle, is because I find it somewhat nostalgic and amusing. DD: It doesn't really fit me any more know that I think about it. DD: I haven't been demented in years. DD: chickenbuttfrogshitbabyeaterclowntroll DD: See. Completely sane. DD: What's your name by the way?
GS: Ben GS: Ben Gazer. GS: Oh shit. GS: I’m supposed to do the last name first. GS: That’s what the guys in the spy movies always do. GS: Oh well. GS: Yeah, its Ben. GS: Though I haven’t actually gone by that name in a long time. GS: Typically people just call me Galvin, Star, or when they’re typically messing with me, Gal. GS: It really doesn't matter, you feel free to call me whatever you want. GS: Anyway, in your complete sanity, you think you could help me out in getting to my gate. GS: I don’t exactly have that much scamperway so I don’t think I’ll be able to make it up without some help. GS: I’ll start making my way to the roof, just try and help me out once I’m up there.
You make your way over to the window of your room, opening it and allowing in even more light to pour forth into the house. Thank god you found these shades, otherwise you’d never be able to see anything out here. Looking above the mirror you see that the roof is just close enough to allow you to make it up. As you pull yourself up using your mangrit, a stat that you are particularly proud of, you receive an incoming message.
--cursedTinker [CT] began pestering galvinStarlight [GS]-- CT: Okay. I think I'm ready to go. CT: Some stairs or other means of vertical movement would be appreciated. CT: I'm going to work on killing imps while you build. GS: Sure I’ll get on that right away.
After hauling yourself onto the roof you take a moment to check out Tink’s house. You begin with a small platform outside of his window as you realize not everyone can get up to their roof in the same fashion as you can. You place a ladder down which leads up to the roof and lastly you place a few platforms down with more ladders leading up to the first gate. With a pathway set out for him you hop back into the chat.
GS: You’re good to go.
You don’t feel the need to say anything more as you have your own gate to worry about. Oh fuck. That ogre looks familiar. Now that you can actually see him in the light, you notice the ogre’s head is really just the projection of an ogre’s head on an Ipod screen, while a large amp comprises most of its chest. Luckily it appears that the ogre is alone. Oh who are you kidding, it’s a fucking OGRE!!! Look at that bitch's Health Vial! It’s huge, the only way you could possibly kill that thing is too...
Iiiiiideeeeeeaaaaaaaa!!!
The ogre screams as a massive sound wave begins to vibrate the whole house, and nearly deafening you. You put your hands over your ears as you feel your Health Vial start to fall. Now that’s just cheating. Well two can play at that game.
You charge the ogre looking it straight in the eyes but not taking your hands off your ears. The ogre seems a bit confused at first but responds by only increasing its assault. As you approach the ogre at your top speed, which is not much, seriously you need more scamperway, you begin to focus on the knives you got from the kitchen and the acronym you assigned them.
GS: KUT NOBEL IDEAS VACHUM EQUEL STUPIDLY
That makes no goddamn sense and both you and your acronym modus know it. As such, it punishes you by ejecting a random item directly forward with deadly force. Just as planned. With only one item left after your alchemy session, the knives fly forward into the ogre, causing its screen and amp to crack and pop as sparks fly. The sound stops as the ogre screams in rage. About a tenth of its health bar is now gone. You keep running and just a s you approach begin to slide forward, feet first. The slope of the roof carries you toward the ogre and good speed, as the rough surface of the roofing tiles lift up your shirt and begin to claw at your back. You don’t care you ignore the small amount of damage your Health Vial takes as you slide toward the now seriously pissed off ogre.
GS: Looks like I’m about to...
You feel strength in your limbs as the pun begins to come forth. Your custom stat of PunGrit skyrockets, as you slide toward the ogre’s leg. Just as you pass by you wield your SMASH STAFF OF MAGNIFICATION and with all your might you strike the ogre’s left leg. The ogre howls in pain as you slide off the roof, grapping the edge just in time to save yourself from a two story fall.
The ogre is not so lucky. It clutches it’s leg as it howls in pain again. The tilt of the roof, the pain in its leg and its poor balance all combine to send the ogre crashing backwards off the roof, and land on the ground below head first.
GS: ...drop the beat.
The ogre explodes in grist of so many colors it would make a rain player jealousy. Okay it’s not that many colors, but it is pretty cool. You don’t really have to time to pick all that up even though you do spy just a pinch of uranium grist.
You climb back up to the top of the of the roof and look up at the gate hovering about ten feet above your house. You then take a look at the status of your Health Vial which is currently under fifty percent. Lastly you look back over at the swarm of imps climbing up onto the roof. All armed with axes, tea cups, mustaches, and bad romance novels.
You really hope Elsa can hurry with that help.
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Post by schadenFreudian on Apr 20, 2013 23:46:57 GMT -5
One thing that you would like to point out at this point is that in this land, the Land of Hills and Silence, is that it likes to place a great deal of attention on that second descriptor. All ambient noise seems to be missing from this land, whether from footsteps or scuffs or the occasional rock being kicked around. Being a Void player previously, this absence barely even registered on your plane of attention until you realized that there were imps with speakers in their chests, which reminded you that noise is definitely still a thing that exists. Aside from the noise from your TOWER OVERCOAT and conversations with James, the land itself seems completely incapable of generating noise on its own. It's almost pleasantly nostalgic to wander this land with none of your absent-minded actions having any audible effect on the environment. It gives you a feeling oddly similar to being invisible.
So, understandably, when you opened a dead-silent door to a dead-silent building in a dead-silent land, you expected, you guessed it, dead silence. But of course, SBURB is a game that likes to throw more curveballs than a peg-legged pitcher with one arm missing and a head concussion.
You lay on your back in the middle of a large room, absentmindedly staring at a computer screen like it's a watch on your arm, while consorts dance around you and James floats there like an asshole.
SF: You planned this didn't you. EQ: :D SF: You bastard. ??: More cake, oh great hero?
Ah, right. What are these creatures, you might ask? An understandable and interesting question. Upon opening the door, where you expected silence you were instead greeted with a blast of noise, confetti, and consorts that quickly swarmed around you and dragged you inside of the assumed-to-be-empty place, presumably to be stuffed and roasted or something.
Only a minute or so after getting mugged by these little creatures, you are now laying on your back, staring at the wooden ceiling and a large hung banner that reads 'Welcome Hero' which is written in what can be assumed to be cupcake frosting. The glaringly pink consorts dance around your unmoving carcass and eat cake and sing praises about how their hero has come and something about the cold, while you try to distract yourself with your newest message from UM. In only the minute or so that you've been here you've been stuffed with more sickeningly sweet icing covered pastries than anyone would ever want to consider eating, ever, and you're pretty sure you have diabetes now. You have apparently been mugged by none other than a pack of positively pink pompous perky preposterously-peppy pronking playful party-possessed prismatic petite pastel pulchritudinous painfully-polyphloisboian...
Ponies.
You wave a hand in dismissal to the little pink equine offering another sickening plate of the colorful eatery. You don't know how much more sugary things you'll ever be able to eat in your lifetime. It does the little giggle thing that everything here has responded with to every act of acknowledgment you've ever given them, and bounds off cheerily with its piece of cake in tow. In fact, just about every action they do can be described as 'cheerily'. It's like saying 'hello' with these things. The saccharine disposition everything in this room has treated you with up to this point has gotten you just about as overwhelmed as all of this cake you've been forced to eat. You think you're done with cake. Forever.
SF: Why. EQ: :D SF: Why me. EQ: come on you know you love it SF: No. EQ: theyre adorable and you know it SF: No. EQ: search your heart you know it to be true SF: Not for all the Star Wars references in the world.
You lay there for a while and try to distract your screaming pancreas with these green letters on your arm screen like those antisocial kids that stare at their phones during a party to avoid the perils of social interaction. Except with more ponies involved.
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--unaffiliatedmerc [UM] began pestering schadenFreudian [SF]
UM: I do not think you know what being a page means. UM: Also, I don't wanna talk to my sprite. UM: She's mean. UM: Can't I just talk to yours? UM: Your's sounds sane. UM: Well, ish. UM: I don't think anyone is fully sane. SF: I don't believe he will be any more helpful than your sprite. SF: I thought he was sane. SF: He has convinced me otherwise.
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You leave it at that.
??: Um mister hero sir?
You sit up again at the familiarly perky voice that everything here has been greeting you with. It's another god damned pony, of course. Alright, maybe you're being a little mean with your descriptions here. They're just consorts after all.
SF: Yes. Hello. ??: You're the hero right? SF: I...think? SF: That's why you threw the party and everything, right? SF: Because I'm the hero. ??: But you don't LOOK like a hero.
It (she?) has a point there. You're just some guy in a jacket, really. You definitely don't FEEL like a hero. You feel like some guy that just got mugged by a bunch of pink ponies, and still isn't sure what's going on here.
SF: I guess you're right haha. SF: Actually I don't know what I'm supposed to do as a hero really. SF: But maybe I'll learn eventually. SF: At least, I hope. ??: Does that mean you're gonna defeat Homadus? SF: Who's Homadus?
The little consort frowns. You're not sure what that frown means.
??: Homadus is a big meanie! He stole all the fire from this place! ??: Now it's all cold and quiet! ??: You're gonna defeat him, right? ??: And bring back the fire? ??: It's really really cold, mister hero sir. ??: Please?
Oh gawd no not the feels. Not the feels. How do ponies even do that. Why are their eyes so big that's not even fair.
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