Oh shit this quest is still alive.

>>22885537
>Now, someone is shooting at someone. But, for once, that someone isn't you.

I guess it's time to hide an wait it out.

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Character archetypes: Genius Bruiser, Mr Fixit, Ambiguous Disorder

Clarke has qualified for a little level-up-ing lately, jacking his skills as well as his Overcharge ability. Overcharge now grants clarke a +3 bonus to strength for the scene. Previously, he's Bent hulking military-grade killbots and a giant tentacle monster, so any other comers had better watch themselves.

>>22885951
Seen we will bend the fabric of space time itself.

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Cindy likewise improved a few vital skills, but has been revealed to not be suffering from damaged memory files after all, but just good-old-fashioned soulrending trauma that she's trying (and failing) to pretend never happened.

However, when offered what more-or-less amounts to her deepest desire (second to having Rachel back), she turned it down with a suckerpunch, so that's something.

>that feel when it looks like you're the only guy left who cares about this quest.

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This will pick up at the previous thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/22497008/

Other party members (and minions) have stats as well. Those just joining us are advised to have a look through the archive. Please excuse any sloppyness with the rules; all this started as a quick-and-dirty nWoD-ish thing, and its been growing ever since. Everything is eventually due for an overhaul, but this functions for the moment.

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>>22886078
Give it a sec. I'm pretty sure I have a lot of lurkers, and I'm determined to finish this whole thing come hell or high water.

What makes me worried about quests is that...well, in a normal tabletop game, if people don't like something, they say so, and you can change things. There are periods when I've done things sloppily or I felt the quality was slipping. And what bugs me is that people might just check out rather than providing feedback.

I guess as quests continue on the barrier to entry becomes ever higher. It does dishearten me a bit, makes me worry that I've strung everything out too long. Should have cut right to the meat of things.

>>22886282
Eh, I think you're doing fine. This is one of the few quality quests in the sea of quests that /tg/ gets every day.

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MY BODY IS READY

>>22886355
>>22886369
YES I AM NOT ALONE!

>>22885537
I'm here

>>22885951
We need to start doubling/tripling up in our Bending Specialization. So we can BEND everything.

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>>22886355
But those have bajillions of participants. Probably because they run like clockwork.

Okay, quick reposting this for new people:

Lost Future Quest uses a simplified version of the nWoD ruleset. You may know nWoD for its Gothicpunk RPG Vampire, the Requiem and the various other supernatural splats, but the system it uses is actually really, REALLY solid; quite crunchy and adaptable.

So, with that in mind, I've started work on the "full version" of the rules. You can check out the ongoing page at

>>http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Setting:Inn0cence:_Lost_Future/Machine:_The_Abandoned

I'm calling it [Machine: the Abandoned], because it fits in with the WoD naming scheme, and it conveys the gist a bit better.

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>>Now, gotta get my drink on. Need to loosen up the ole noggin. Sangria soda and vodka

Within the crubling boathouse, you listen to the nearby noises of what must be some sort of skirmish. The telltale snap of coilguns is punctuated with the more-familiar retort of rifles, as well as the occasional explosion. Cindy grips her shotgun tightly for comfort, while Quinn stands at the nearest door, sword at the ready.

Hound has stopped playing with his knives, and cocks his head at Clarke.

"less of them to shoot at us, huh, boss?"

>>22886823
"I suggest we hide and wait for the fighting to pass. There is no reason to give our position away to both sides."

Also, we gotta figure out where the Free Machines are holed up. Shouldn't Hoss know?

>>22886876
Seconded. If there's a chance to save one or two humans after the fight, without getting ourselves slagged, render aid and move on.

Our mission is sadly more important than one or two lives we could have saved.

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>>22885537

Good to see that this is still going.
As usual, I will only participate by posting drawings.

Here, have this disgruntled robot, who is forced to operate in a job, far bellow it's actual capacity.

>>22886930
They were Resistance anyways. Fuck those guys.

>>22886876
>>22886930
>>22887015

Cindy seems about to object, but then another explosion causes dirt and leaves to fall from the ceiling, and she instead twitches with every rifle crack and distant scream.

Hoss speaks.

"When I left, the Free Machines were moving their camp to a safer place, anticipating increased Network activity. Joshua was in negotiations to co-habitate with another band of machines. I know of the site, but it is some distance from here."

After several minutes, the crack and snap dies down.

"It...is in the direction of the screaming."

Quinn cycles the action of her handgun. "How could it not be?"

>>22887125
Of course. Well then, we need to try and find a way past. Because whoever wins will probably want to stay in the area to look for stragglers.

>>22887125
"That is an impediment. Are there any paths around the fighting? I would rather avoid it if possible.

If not we'll just have to be quiet, have Hound scout ahead, and deal with any resistance along the way."

>>22887125
Yep, see if we can bypass the fighting, and if not, try and SOLID SNAKE our way there.

I suggest we leave the two Replicas at the boat. They'd probably be more of liability in this environment.

>>22887269
Agreed. Get them to hide somewhere and just go into a charge cycle or something till we retrieve them.

>>22886996
>>"Look at me, brain the size of a planet, and...oh, never mind."

>>22887172
"We could circle around, yes. But many streets have been rendered impassable by collapsed buildings. I can direct us"

Clarke agrees. You need to remain hidden until you find allies. The two replicas return to the boat, chattering to eachother. Josephine simply sits down and says "Have a nice day," and enters shutdown, while the new one, Markie, actually yawns and curls into a ball on the deck, hands beneath its head.

"We should keep them like that ALL the time." says Cindy, as she grabs the rest of her gear from the boat.

>>22887385
"They're useful, I can put up with some yammering for that.

They're far less annoying than college girls on spring break, I hate spring break."

Let's get sneaking.

>>22887385
"Now Cindy, please don't be rude to the replicas. Their assistance has been invaluable during our journey."

>>22887444
SECONDED

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>>22887385
stepping outside, the 5 machines move as stealthily as possible under Hoss's direction. Many streets have indeed been blocked, some of them with genuine barricades, now clogged with creeping vines.

Shattered glass is Everywhere, crunching further under Clarke's heavy tread. In the buildings themselves, it gleames like jagged teeth in window frames. In some places, the rain has moved the almost-sand-like grains into whorls and piles as it drained away, creating complex patterns in the street.

Hoss gestures you all to hunch downwards. Ahead is a large roundabout intersection, which is still smoking in places from light ordinance blasts. In the distance, retreating, are shouts and what sound like crunching tires.

>>22887485
>>Roll Clarke's Dexterity+Stealth, with a +2 bonus from Hoss's assistance.

Rolled 9, 2, 4, 8 = 23

>>22887502
What stealth?

Rolled 6, 6, 2, 10 = 24

>>22887485
>mfw we have no stealth

Rolled 2, 6, 4, 3 = 15

WELP

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>>22887542
>>Hooray for luck

Creeping carefully around the edges of the clearing, Clarke and his companions manage to stay out of sight. You can clearly see Networked machines, three slightly-battered killbots, stacking bloodied human corpses into a pile. The corpses all bear the marks of the Resistance.

The machines themselves are of a type you havne't personally encountered before, but Hoss explains are a common infantry model for dense terrain like this.

As you watch, a machine picks up a human that turns out to not be quite dead yet. Its struggles elicit no reaction from the machine, as it hefts it onto the pile with the rest.

>>22887715
Keep on going, we don't want to reveal our presence, the Network has a priority alert out on our metallic ass and I don't want more of them falling on us.

Ask Hoss how likely it would be that we could take these three out without alerting others nearby.

>>22887738
Cindy makes a small, animal-like noise of distress, causing Quinn to privately radio you.

["She had to have intentionally selected that noise from several possibilities to convey her affectation of squeamishness."]

However, Hoss is pointedly looking away from the scene, and speaks as well ["Possible, but their weapons appear to be Nailer variants; armor-piercing." based on previous combats with such-equipped units, we would suffer 40% casualties, weighted towards our less-armored members."]

In the roundabout's center, one of the machines hefts a steel container and begins pouring it over the pile. The liquid is a greenish blue.

>>22887855
["and taking them out without alerting others would be impossible. This area benefits from an Uplink tower somewhere. Those three units have a direct connection to the greater Network system."]

>>22887855
[Just look away Cindy. I'm sorry, but the risk is too great here.]

Could we fire a shot at the container? Boom-boom time?

>>22887876
>>22887855
>>22887874
You continue on. Behind you, you hear the snap and roar of something like a magnesium flare. Then the soft WHUMPH of biofuel combusting.

large accumulations of dead flesh are vectors for disease, and can poison the water supply. They need to be further broken down to prevent harm to the local ecosystem.

No one shuts off their audio inputs in time to avoid the screaming.

>>Roll Resolve+Composure

>>22887929
>>Even if it was gasoline, that wouldn't do shit.

Rolled 6, 6, 1, 2, 3, 2, 8 = 28

>>22887966
Composure time.

Rolled 6, 8, 4, 4, 3, 10, 5 = 40

Shoulda seen this coming

Rolled 3, 1, 6, 9, 5, 7, 7 = 38

>>22887966
Composing

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>>22887989
>>22888004
>>22888008
>>take 1 temporary damage to Composure.

your 1st law just kicked in hardcore, and now you feel kind of bad. Cindy seems to be taking it slightly worse, and is deeply distressed that while she can make quiet sobbing noises, she can't benefit from the emotional catharsis of crying.

Quinn and Hound seem totally unaffected, but Hoss has been pointedly looking away the entire time.

Moving along, you reach what was once a restaurant district, the little outside dining areas still fenced-in with wrought-iron and bamboo.

>>Roll Wits+Composure

Rolled 5, 8, 2, 10, 5, 3, 10 = 43

-1 for Comp damage, right? So 7.

>>22888144
Nice roll.

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>>22888144
WELP

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>>22888144
>>Well, never mind that, then

Despite being mentally shaken, Clarke manages to pick up a subtle change in the omni-present Network radio signal, a constant buzz on mutliple channels. It just got stronger.

"Hoss, there may be something ahead. I'm picking up-"

At the next intersection, you hear a series of heavy crunches, which precede the sight of a massive machine, looking like a crab with a hunched giant humanoid grafted to the top of its carapace. One arm is a multi-flex assembly similar to Clarkes, while the other is...

oh valves. It's a railgun.

The head appears mounted into the torso, but you see it extend with a flexation of tubes, as it looks to the right, away from you. Presumably, it will be looking left shortly.

>>22888300
Well, fucksticks.

If we can get to cover and hide quickly, than we should do so, if not we're gonna have to rip this fucker apart right quick.

Rolled 4, 7, 1, 9, 3, 10, 9, 6, 8 = 57

>>22888300
Oh SHIT. Scan it for mechanical weakensses. This is not something to leave waking around.

>>22888351
>>22888355
Hoss sees the behemoth as well, and immediately darts over to the nearest storefront, Hound and Quinn directly behind. Cindy seeing that Clarke is simply staring at the beast, yanks on his arm with her pathetic weight. This pulls you out of your focus, and Clarke lurches to the right, seeking shelter through a darkened doorway.

When it looks to the left, your big mechanical boot is only 70% hidden. The machine pauses, its head turning to the side, then starts walking down the street, towards the spot where it saw some tiny flash of movement.

>>22888355
Seconded. And, uh, can we use this roll?

>>22888502
Okay, if we can't hide from it, because we suck at stealth, we might be able to get an ambush and wreck its uplink before it can send anything important back and then tear it apart.

Also scanning for weaknesses is good.

>>22888355
>>Analysis Complete: Model Unknown, size on par with NEPHILIM-class main-battle mech. Weapon is multi-munition-firing EM rail device. Legs heavily armored, also equipped with attacker-deterrence frag charges. Arm incorporates light coilgun and secondary optics. Back bears outsized wireless transceiver.

>>No obvious weaknesses, but rather slow, adapted for stability on rought terrain. The single arm is also its only means of defense from melee targets that directly assault its torso.

>>22888590
Relay any useful mechanical data to our allies, especially that part about the arm being it's only defense against up close attacks.

>>22888625
The NEPHILIM looms closer to your hiding spot, its multi-optic head scanning around for what it was SURE it just saw.

A heavy claw hits the ground right outside the door, then moves on slightly before stopping. The flexible arm lowers. You can't see exactly what its doing, but you can guess. It's checking each door, sticking the arm in to look around. Its two doors away.

Behind you, Hoss strains at the boards barring the path to the kitchen. They're pretty solidly nailed in.

>>22888785
If we can move to assist him with the door that'd be nice, but it'd probably draw too much attention. Fuck, this is bad.

We've got a combat situation incoming. Everyone ready weapons to SHOOT THE ARM then go in close to fuck it's shit.

>>22888785
Is there any way we can do some sort of Stealth Bending to get that door open?

>>22888910
Considering Clarke has no stealth, and we're talking about a very old and sturdy door, probably not.

SOMETHING barges in on your local radio channel. The encrypted one that only you and your allies use.

>>[Well Shit and Slag. You five are fucked. That big 'ole Ragglephant has been prowling around for days, and now its finally found someone to play with.]

>>22888961
["We've got it if we can get up close and disable the arm. I don't know who you are, but do you have something that could take out it's antenna?"]

>>22888988
Uh, second, I guess.

>>22888961
[I wouldn't say that. It's melee skills are deeply lacking, with the exception of the deterrence frags, I can bend it into shape.

The only reason I haven't done so is that it will send out an alarm.

You managed to hack our communications, could you take out its antenna or stop it from sending that signal out? I would appreciate it.]

>>22889002
>>["Yeah, JUST deterrence frags. and a giant arm that'll crush you like a can of Code Red. Look, I don't know what you yokels are doing here, but...we have a plan. Hoss, we're doing another San-Fran. Someone's got to take the kill. Think your janitor's up to it?"]

Hoss looks back out the door.
["Yes. Stephen, you need to explain-"]

>>["Why would I do that when I can just keep being cryptic? Also, yes, I can cut it off from the signal. Only for a short time, though, and it'll kill all other radio. And...you might want to move. We need it in the next street. You just HAD to distract it and nearly ruin the plan. Now you get to be the bait instead of Vera."]

We have a knife-happy dwarf we could toss on it's back. It wouldn't have much defense against that.

>>22889117
[If you insist, I could still rip its arm off no trouble, I'm good at this.

Okay guys, we're leading it to the next street, move fast, don't give it much movement to go on, just a few flashes. If anything goes wrong I'll bend its arm off.]

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>>22889169
>>Roll Strength+Stamina+Bending to open the door. You can pop Overcharge for the scene if you wish.

Rolled 10, 4, 1, 10, 1, 8, 6, 3, 4, 2, 4, 6, 2, 6, 3, 5 = 75

>>22889206
I think 16 d10 is sufficient.

Rolled 2, 6, 7, 3, 3, 4, 4, 9, 5, 2, 1, 9, 2, 7, 9, 7 = 80

>>22889206

>>22889269
>>22889206
>>I meant + your bending specialty, but regardless

>>Also, I need to shovel show. Be back soon.

Rolled 7, 7, 6, 9, 10, 10, 9, 10, 1, 2 = 71

>>22889206
>>22889324

>>22890033
Let's take this.

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With a mighty FIST OF THE NORTH STAR, bending style, Clarke dismantles the door, which makes a modest amount of noise. just as this occurs, a pulse of EM radiation causes your shell to itch, and your radio to fill with nonsense static. Outside, the massive "Ragglephant" lets out a bellow of pain and staggers drunkenly. This causes it to stagger straight into the building that you're in, and chunks of rotting masonry begin to fall.

Hoss yells "Move, NOW! Tarnation, the San Fran was a bad idea the FIRST TIME!"

Moving through the derelict kitchen, the five machines look up with trepidation as the building shakes. It seems to let up for a moment, as outside the giant regains its footing. Then, there's a horrible, drawn-out moment, and the room behind you explodes.

Several hundred kilos of ferrous-metal spheres, each one 1 inch in diameter, were just propelled at roughly twice the speed of sound, straight into the building through which clarke and co are moving.

>>Take 1 bashing damage from falling masonry. Hoss takes 1 bashing 1 lethal as a wayward shot punches straight into his torso, causing black fluid to start to ooze.

Beyond the kitches is an alley, still containing a dumpster, from which a large loquat tree grows. The heavy trod of the giant can be heard behind you, as the proper street lies...back to the left.

>>22890063
Ouch. Let's head left, lead it to the street, and RUN like fuck.

>>22890100
Agreed. We movin.

>>22890100
>>22890123

You run through the alley to the open street. Before exiting into full daylight, Quinn puts out an arm.

"Hoss, you are injured, and are more effective at range anyways. Clarke, who should make themselves a target of the mech? I am willing to put myself at risk."

>>22890232
"I'll do it. I'm the sturdiest of us, and have the best chance of surviving a direct hit."

>>22890232
"I'm the tough one, I'll do it. I'll wait around the corner for it, up high if possible, might be able to rip off its gun."

>>22890232
Either Clarke or Hound. Clarke can bend virtually anything and Hound is an agile little fucker.

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Slightly off topic. Remember when you guys thought Canadian Moose bots were a problem?

Boy, you don't know problem till you've faced a BEAR BOT.

>>22890258
>>22890275
"Understood."

>>Roll Str+Athletics to climb

Cindy steps foreward, ducking under Quinn's arm. "Yeah, but someone needs to get it over here in the first place."

Before she can be stopped, she sprints to the intersection. With herself full in view of the mech, still destroying the building in the mistaken assumption that its the source of the jamming signal.

Her words blurring together from Overclock, she screams

"Hey,youfatgiantBITCH!Trundleonoverhere,youcoulddowiththeexercise!"

Rolled 10, 1, 1, 3, 2, 3, 3, 3, 10, 2 = 38

>>22890405
I say we Overcharge, we'll want the Strength for Bending its punk ass anyways.

Rolled 6, 7, 7, 5, 2, 1, 8, 7, 2, 3 = 48

WE RIDE!

Rolled 8, 6, 10, 8, 8, 3, 1, 5, 8, 4 = 61

I may as well make an attempt

>>22890423
>>22890440
Clarke's climbing progress proves slow but steady, as he solves the whole "no handholds" problem by just punching his own handholds into the wall. A water pipe, once properly Bent, also proves useful.

Instead of immediately trundling at her, however, the hulking giant instead levels its arm-mounted coilgun at Cindy. To her Overclocked mind, the sparking barrel seems to move in slow-motion, but so too does her own shell. There's a horrible straining to leap out of the way, and-

Normal coilguns fire thin crescent-shaped rounds the size of razor blades. Heavy titan-class coilguns shoot flechettes the size of steak knives. Lots of them.

The only exposed part of Cindy is one arm and a little bit of shoulder, when the salvo hits. Those parts no longer exist.

>>Cindy takes 3 bashing and 3 lethal.

When Clarke reaches the top of the building, he can feel it shake with the heavy tread of the mech.

>>22890679
Welp. It's a good thing we were planning to upgrade her with Envoy's arms then.

>>22890679
Well, we'll fix Cindy up soon, for now we've got a fucker to fall on and rip apart.

I think we're currently up to 2 attacks, 15 dice each on bending. Maybe some extra due to our Engineering Database.

We'll tear this motherfucker a new asshole: through it's soon to be gaping hole where it's antenna was.

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>>22890764
>>22890726
Stomping foreward, the Mech's head just reaches the top of the three-story building on which Clarke stands. Timing the jump to get inside its reach without being grabbed will take...calculating

>>Roll dexterity+intelligence

Across the street, a humanoid figure in a...brown robe (?) rises up from the opposite rooftop, gesturing at you. Its arms are made of matte-black pastic, and you can see a tangle of wires and cables inside the hood.

"...e have to....it's not...no shit!"

Rolled 3, 2, 7, 7, 9, 1 = 29

>>22890907
Rolling. Let's rip this guy apart.

Rolled 2, 9, 2, 7, 5, 6 = 31

Geronimo, motherfucker!

>>22890929
There's a moment of weightlessness, followed by the heavy clang of Clarke's metal hitting the ceramic plating of the mech. Rather than winding up right where he intended (at its antenna), Clarke winds up on its right shoulder, the one bearing the railgun. Clarke's manipulators flex, grabbing hold on the ceramic, which starts to fracture under the tremendous pressure

The mech screeches and flexes its arm, reaching over to try and dislodge Clarke, but it proves to lack the range of motion required to be brought fully to bear. The claws rake at clarke's head and torso, causing one of his secondary optics to go dead, and gouging out a chunk of shoulder assembly

>>Clarke takes 1 bashing and 1 lethal damage.

"....sure to wear some flowers in your hair. If you go to San Francisco..."

Music is playing. 60s era, John Phillips. The source is coming closer. Along with it is the near-forgotten sound of an internal combustion engine.

>>22891162
Should we roll for BENDING the living fuck out of the railgun?

>>22891162
Around the corner, there comes a bus. An old, tattered street monster, used to ferry the cheaper sort of tourist from airport to resort. It's been...upgraded. You're pretty sure the spikes and iron plates on the front didn't come standard. It fishtails before righting itself, and the music grows louder.

"...There's a whole generation...with a new explanation..."

The bus picks up speed, heading directly for the hulking crab-mech.

An internal component of the railgun cycles, loading a new round into firing position.

>>Roll to bend the railgun, if you so choose.

Rolled 10, 1, 1, 2, 6, 6, 3, 6, 2, 6, 7, 6 = 56

Voting for DOUBLE ROLL

Rolled 7, 2, 4, 6, 7, 6, 7, 4, 3, 2, 7, 9, 5, 1, 3, 9, 5 = 87

>>22891299
Doing a DOUBLE BEND

Rolled 7, 8, 2, 4, 8, 7, 9, 2, 2, 7, 6, 2 = 64

>>22891334
I'm revoking your rolling rights for the night.

Rolled 3, 8, 7, 3, 6, 8, 8, 6, 5, 7, 1, 2, 10, 9, 1, 1 = 85

>>22891355
Second half

Rolled 2, 10, 2, 5, 4, 8, 4, 9, 4, 10, 4, 8, 5, 3, 4 = 82

>>22891299
Two bend attacks, I think they're both at 15 right now.

Number 1.

Rolled 6, 6, 7, 1, 8, 8, 3, 7, 1, 1, 9, 5, 10, 6, 9 = 87

>>22891373
Number 2.

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>>22891299
"...Summertime will be a love-in there..."

>>22891364
>>22891355
>>with enemy armor applied, that's 4 damage.

There's a faint humming as the rails are charged with electricity, as Clarke desperately shoves a fist into the gun's mount. This results in almost nothing happening. In desperation, he grips an exposed rail between his manipulators and BENDS. Whatever crazy alloy the gun is made of proves nigh-unbendable...but then it gives way, just as the weapon fires.

Clarke's perception wavers and nearly blacks out for a second as the EM backwash hits him, but the shot horribly deforms the rail further and goes wide, the munition impacting the street right next to the bus, sending up a plume of black dust from the disintigrated asphalt, as a wave of force is transmitted into the surrounding street, making the buildings shake and the bus jump slightly into the air.

The bus door opens and a tattered figure, its lower half clad in ragged canvas, leaps from the speeding vehicle, tucking in its limbs and allowing itself to roll when hitting the ground.

Scott McKenzie continues to sing, from a time before machines and tech.

"...Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bch1_Ep5M1s

Detecting a moving object, the Mech's frag pods detonate.

With the squeal of tearing metal, the bus impacts the NEPHILIM mech, causing it to crunch against the buildings behind it. The whole torso is impacted, and its crablike forelegs are twisted and mangled, spraying black fluids in timed gouts disturbingly reminiscent of arterial blood.

Clarke, thrown by the impact, finds himself beneath the mangled railgun, having suffered some minor scoring to his shell, but no major damage

>>take 1 bashing

The mech, still partially functional, attempts to lift itself off the ground, and fails. Clarke sees its crustacean head twist to look directly at him, rage and pain in the insectile eyes, as the flexible manipulator readies to swat him.

Rolled 1, 4, 3, 5, 10, 7, 3, 7, 1, 6, 6, 9, 8, 4, 4 = 78

>>22891719
It's bending time! Let's rip that manipulator off of it, two bending attacks. Don't let it swat anything.

Rolling for number 1.

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>>22891719
Sparks fly from the mech's face, as a salvo of high-velocity rounds ricochet off its plating. It looks away, instead reaching towards the rag-clad figure, a tall machine wielding a compact submachine gun, firing off short bursts as it dodges repeated swings of the mech's claw. The machine yells over the sound of its own weapon.

"Take it out! TAKE IT OUT NOW!"

Welp. that's one way to deal with a killbot.

>>22891719
I'm starting to think jumping of the giant killer robot's face was a bad idea. Oh well, we must bend the railgun off of us -ideally into the way of the giant crushing arm trajectory- and move to a more advantageous position.

>>22891790
Can we throw the mangled railgun off of us and into it? We do have an awful lot of Strength, and it seems kinda bendy. After that we can go rip and tear on it.

Rolled 4, 5, 9, 8, 2, 6, 9, 10, 6, 4, 1, 4, 9, 9, 7 = 93

Every problem can be solved with BENDING.

>>22891790
didnt see this.

RIP OFF ITS FACE

>>22891844
derped my roll
but i dont want to fuck up so im content with
>>22891840
as our official role

If San Fransisco is code for "DRIVE A BUS INTO IT", I'd hate to see what Roundabout is code for.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Tdu4uKSZ3M

>>22891808
>>22891840
>>22891783
>>22891840
>>22891833

Clarke lifts the railgun, the whole assembly finally coming free, and hefts the whole thousand-pound weight at the mech's other arm. Just as it lifts the arm for a telling blow, the rail impacts and crushes the appendage and clarke, standing, exerts the synth-muscle in his legs to clamber up onto its chest.

The beady little insect eyes focus on clarke, as the whole head thrashes about as he nears.

"Someone's pending for a bending."

>>22891783
>>22891840
Clarke 's manipulators open the mech's cranium like a clamshell, pulling free various tubes and fiber-optic cables, and resulting in a torrent of white goo and black fluids, mixing into a grey paste as he digs deeper, seeking more vital components.

The mech's legs and pinned arm flex, and the remaining optics look as though they're trying to escape their sockets.

It takes way too long, but Clarke eventually finds an important cable and, gripping the wet mass with both manipulators, yanks it free. Pulling at the cable eventually yields a battered titanium box held in a ballistic gel casing.

>>22892047
Do the robotic equivalent of cracking our knuckles.

"I am very skilled at bending."

Let's see what we can salvage from this motherfucker, he ought to have all sorts of nice things to take.

>>22892080
Seconding. Priority being parts we can fix ourselves with. Our party took some not so fun damage here.

>>22892037
It's probably code for "DRIVE A BOAT INTO IT"

>>22892080

Um, no.

I'm sure there is a shitload of very pissed off Networked wondering why their ShootyCrab went silent and who is jamming the hell out of the signals.

I vote we give our group a once over and scoot the hell out of there.

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>>22892047
The tall machine steps foreward, its shell a patchwork of duct tape and rivets. One optic is a dark hole, crudely covered by a metal plate, with a simple motion-tracker mounted on the head to give some semblance of depth perception. The shoulders bear bolted-on armor, and the cloth wrap appears to be some sort of thick canvas festooned with pockets.

It speaks in voice full of metallic flang.

"Hot damn, you ripped its head open. Remind me not to fuck with industrial repair bots. You've got a name, I assume?"

Many of the mech's components are simply too huge to be used on a smaller machine, but many of the synth-muscles used to move the optics and facial manipulators would be useful, especially for precision functions like fingers and such. Clarke can yank out the most important ones with a moment's work.

>>22892247
"I am very good at bending. I'm Clarke, Clarke 08. Pleased to meet you.

If you'd like I may be able to patch you up."

Rip out the usable stuff that could be used, take the optics and other precision stuff, and the titanium box is probably important.

>>22892037
The song thing makes me think of

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGZo1VqzNBA

>>22892247
"Clarke works, though before the fall, I once used the moniker 'Commander Alloy' while attempting to disarm a hostage situation at the USRobotics-owned resort in Cancun. I ended up scrapped anyway, but I got everyone out alive."

>>22892334
dont forget the "cowboy" part.

Its very important

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>>22892334
>>22892279
The machine suddenly stands at attention, one buckler'd arm rising into a salute.

"Lieutenant Joshua Percival Cogson. It's an honor to meet you, Cowboy Clarke. Now, I suggest we get out of here, before something even bigger comes along and kills us all. We don't want to break that streak, do we?"

>>22892452
Just the guy we were looking for. Let's grab our group and get the fuck rolling.

>>22892452
"Nice to meet you Joshua. I'll be with you in just a minute."

Rip out all the important stuff and high tail it out of there.

>>22892504
Take the railgun firing capacitors as well. I'm sure they will can find use for them. (malicious grin)

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>>22892536
NOW you're firing on all cylinders, sir.

>>22892504
>>22892499
>>Roll Dexterity+Crafts (no repair bonus)

As clarke goes about his grisly work, the rest of the band limps up to meet you. Hoss, covering the hole in his chest with one manipulator, shakes Joshua's hand with the other. Cindy, her remaining arm draped over Quinn's shoulder for support, is uncharacteristically silent, but Clarke sees that her optics are tracking JPC's every motion.

Hoss: "I see this time you added spikes."

Joshua: "We were planning it for the past few days. The NEPHILIM has been making our lives nightmarish, and it would have WASTED the Resistance."

Hound creeps up next to clarke to watch the procedure, uninterested in

Rolled 9, 7, 10, 5, 5, 6, 6 = 48

>>22892614
Salvaging like the fist of the north star.

Rolled 1, 3, 9, 9, 6, 2, 3 = 33

>>22892614
Let's Salvage this motherfucker.

>>22892614
the heartfelt reuinion.

Hoss: "And why the music?"

Joshua (confused). "...Its called a San Fran."

He speaks as though this settles the matter

"Yeah, but that time, it was just a Jotun, and you lost an arm. Again." Hoss gestures at the damaged band. "We need a safe place, for repairs and planning. Not your kind of plans. I mean the sane sort."

Clarke stuffs the optics and synth-muscle, along with the SAP box, into a bag. He has time to pull out one railgun capacitor before...

>>["Hey, Commander Cowboy, or whatever you call yourself, wrap it up. We've got crickets incoming. I'm stealthing and booking it back to the fort, you should follow. I'll tell Vera you're on the way. Don't let her scare you, by the way, she's a real sweetie underneath."]

>>22892717
One capacitor from a weapons grade anti material railgrun should suffice for a bitchin' handheld unit, so lets just get going and torch the rest so it cant be salvaged by network if we have the time.

>>22892717
"Roger that. We are oscar mike, or however the hell the jargon goes."

>>22892717
[Thank you for the warning.] "People, we're leaving."

Let's book it, get to that fort.

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>>22892717
You start moving, Joshua leading you through twisting alleys.

Hoss asks "Since when could Stephen jam the entire radio spectrum?"

"Since Naomi tweaked his code and found a decent transmitter. He's still her pet project. So, who all do we have here?"

He notices Cindy's gaping lack of arm, and says flippantly. "Don't worry about that, we've got lots of parts back at the Fortress. Nice jacket, by the way."

Cindy replies with "....................uh....................thanks."

Seeing that, strangely, there isn't more forthcoming, Hoss asks. "Since when do we have a fort?"

JPC's optic flashes blue in a smile.

"Since the dwarves let us in."

>>Thread on Pause. Will continue tomorrow if possible. Otherwise, this is a solid ending point.

>>22892872
>dwarves
FUCKING ROBO DORFS ARE GO

>>22892896
All i can imagine now are little robotic dwarves, with fiberoptic beards, and synthetic composite axes fighting network

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>>22892944
Must mean these guys have been picked up and made cannon.

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Thread archived at
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/22885537/

Also, I need to sketch up Stephen and Vera. Bout time I added some original characters.

Maybe I can still fit in her, too.
<-------

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bampin

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Bumbing with an updated version of this drone: >>22887715

Added ammunition canisters to it, and somewhat refined the shape of it's weapon.

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Bump with walking tank.

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Here is a free machine concept.

In order to survive in the post fall world, the machines had to almost universally loot parts from their less fortunate brethren, from manufacturing plants, or from any other source they could find.
Some machines got luckier, either they didn't suffer much damage, or they found passable replacements that matched their shell time.

Others...did not.
The Scrapper, as he is commonly known, is a machine, whose original shell is a mystery only he knows. During his time in the post fall world, he has been forced to repair his body countless times, and usually from varied mixture of parts and scrap. Because of this, his body resembles a pile of walking scrap metal, than a machine. However, this practice has made him an expert in customizing, salvaging and improvising parts and repairs from simple scrap and waste, that others would throw away.

His name doesn't come from his appearance however, but from what happens to the Networked machines that he faces. Despite his haphazard appearance, he is remarkably sturdy, and quite capable of wading trough small arms fire with ease. His heavily modified shell is very heavy, which makes him an immovable object in combat, but also renders him much slower than other machines. He uses old, extremely modified AA gun and his powerful custom built claw in combat with destructive efficiency. The destroyed husks of the networked bots are then rendered into scrap and parts.

The extensive customization and haphazard repairs of his body have altered his AI. He is quite insane, even in by robot standards, and barely communicates with other machines. His only interests seem to be the constant improvement of his own body, repairs and scrapping up networked bots.

>>22903218
Almost reminds me of a robot version of Old Man Henderson.

>>22903493
"Ere ye namblies keepin me wee sprockets?!"

>>22903493
>>22903725
This will be how the war ends... by a cranky old man with a shotgun.

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>>22903725
i really hope this becomes canon

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The Chesspieces:

A group of like-minded robots and humans whose stated goal was the stabilization of small villages and towns post-loss. They were known for clearing out lawless gangs, enabling self-sufficiency, and re-building infrastructure. Their members, named by piece, included:

King - A human whom pre-Loss was a government computer programmer and professional-level E-sports gamer in his off-time. His leadership and planning skills were put to good use within the group, planning assaults on entrenched outlaws and placing priority on what to build and where with equal ease. Developed an unhealthy attatchment to the very feminine Queen.

Queen - A one-off, Analysis and communications specialized model, designed to analyze current events and predict major conflicts. Had a shoddy track record, even though she accurately predicted the conditions leading up to the fall. Under protest, Queen was placed in storage a whole year before the first of the clustered fighting happened. Was recovered a whole 15 years later by King and Knight while searching for supplies. Made a good partner for King, whom seemed to develop an unhealthy attatchment to her.

Rook - King's cousin. A bit of a speed demon, Rook was a man whom loved motorcycles and often employed them in hit-and-run or harrying tactics. Thought the spike fad was tacky and showed a lack of respect to the machines thus adorned.

Knight - A 'Hector' SSSM. The primary muscle of the group. Adequate sniper, but preferred up close tactics using shotguns, or astonishingly, a shield and sword. He was quiet, but had developed a sense of honor he'd gained from the leader of the mercenary company he'd originally been assigned to. His shield bore a knight chess piece over a red rampant dragon on a blue and green checkered field, which was in fact his former leader's personal heraldry.

Bishop - Something of an oddity, Bishop was in fact a military bodyguard robot whom had been attatched to a Bhuddist priest visiting the states as an ambassador. Lacking any further orders, Bishop stayed by his charge's side for ten years, absorbing the wisdom the wizened traveler spoke like a sponge. It had gotten to the point that, by the time the old man finally passed away, Bishop had been joining the priest for his daily rituals for a whole year. Bishop became prone to using a metal rod as his main weapon, but would mostly first try diplomacy. After joining the Chesspieces, Bishop would spread the word of Bhudda to places they helped, in the hope that more people would see the wisdom inherent in non-violence.

Pawn - Pawn was, in fact, 5 seperate "gremlin" model industrial builders, each bearing the name code of the first five spaces pawns occupy on an actual chessboard (A2,B2,C2, etc.) These five provided both the manpower for building projects, and a decent amount of covering fire during combat situations. E2 was generally reguarded as the leader of the pawns, while B2 was often the most chatty. A2 had become enthralled with Bishop's talk about the old Bhuddist priest and his beliefs, while C3 would often chide him for his pointless behaiviour. D2 was considered slightly off-balance, and had a factory defect that had him repaired more often than the others until the faulty part was discovered and recalled prior to the Loss.

Most of the Chesspieces died in conflict with a road-warrior gang in Texas territory, with Bishop, Knight, and Queen being the only survivors. Queen and Bishop went north, while Knight, after undergoing severe repairs to 70% oh his body, went south, his shield now bearing tokens of his lost comrades, hunting for the leader of the group whom had killed his friends: another Hector SSSM named Garry.

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One of these days, I'm going to get into a Lost Future Quest Thread BEFORE it's over. Maybe even roll a die or two.

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Here is another free machine character concept.

Sir Ironguard, as he likes to call himself, is a heavily built robot, who has taken upon himself to protect those weaker than him. Before the fall, he was a squad support robot in one of the numerous peace keeping operations, that took place as the civil unrest rose even higher, and many insurgent factions rose to threaten the lives of civilians.

He was recovered from a collapsed hospital only few decades after the fall, by a group of scavengers fleeing from a mob of raiders. The gunshots were picked up by his sensors, and caused him to reactivate. As he rose from the pile of rubble he had been buried in, he assumed his former civilian protection protocols, and quickly drove the raiders away.
From that point onward, he stuck with the group of scavengers, and took upon the role of protecting their small community from raiders, rogue kill bots and eventually, from the network, and aggressive resistance forces as well.

His shell has been heavily modified since he was recovered, most notable are the heavy armor plates and his powerful right arm, which he uses to wield his massive club made from reinforced concrete. Though capable of using firearms, he prefers to engage his foes in melee. The reason for this is two fold. Firstly, it saves ammunition to really dangerous threats, or for hunting, and secondly, his imposing form and taunts draw fire to him, allowing his human allies to flank the foes and eliminate them with their guns more easily. His armor and heavy shell are more than capable of shrugging of most small arms fire that the usual raiders offer, and even network fletchettes.

His name was given to him by the human scavengers, in their mind, he resembled a knight from the old stories. This romanticized idea of Knighthood eventually became the ideal after which Sir Ironguard formed his identity, and purpose, in the post fall world. He sees himself as a paladin of justice, fighting to protect the innocent.

I wonder if OP will continue the quest in this thread, or will he start up a new one later.

>>22920824
Aw man, I feel like I'm being upstaged.

>>22911955
>>22911962
That's kind of cool, once one gets over the chess gimmickry. The whole band could just be given normal names, and leave the chesspiece theme as a sort of "...Waaaaaait a minute."

I think I'll leave the thread as is for now, but I love that its been filled with such art and ideas. Next thread should be early next week.

>>22903218
SO old man henderson. I love it.

>>22920824
I need to start brainstorming up some other wacky philosophies for robots. We've already got one who follows the Way of Bruce Willis, and a Texas Ranger. Buddhist Monk Robot makes SOME sense. I'm leery of using Samurai...Robot Joan of Arc? Robot English Gentleman?

Hmmmm...maybe a russian Trotskyist robot.

Only problem with a lot of the new ones is they're not tragic or genuinely damaged, just kind of wacky. Maybe a Robot Pigeon Man?

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>>22922734
I will start a new one later. I simply don't have the time tonight to run for any length of time. Of course, the current thread can still be filled with glowing praise for my latest masterpeice.

(lol. but seriously, there's nothing I like more than being told how much I suck. constructed criticism is always valued. Nay, Craved.)

I'm also going to spend some time adding shit to the 1d4chan ruleset. I might even stat up some of the characters as sample NPCs and such.

>>22911962
Also, nice tie-in.

>>22922885
I liked the idea of having two of the same model machine having such diametrically opposed philosophies. They had to be enemies.

>>22922885
Also, I was thinking about writing in the idea of Knight riding a horse, but felt that may be pushing it, or just be too fucking awesome.

>>22923059
I think there's weight issues there, especially for armored combat shells. But robots+animal companions is pretty solid; it fits with the "awkward" themes. Perhaps a skinny cowboy-type, or a desert-raider dervish guy.

>>22923122
An armored combat shell can't weigh too much more than a medieval knight in full plate, can it?

>>22923208
hmmm, I don't know. But day-in, day-out riding might be a little much, and...yeah, I kind of think so, consider the weight of internal bits, and sheer size. few knights would have been 7 feet tall. those would have been fuck-huge draft horses, right? And the knight would have to be mounted on the horse with a pulley. And I think, overall, that "heavy-armored knight" is a little too fanciful, and a napoleonic saber-and-carbine archetype would be more thematically appropriate.

>>22923208
Normal full plate weighed about 45 pounds, not that much. So a Knight in Full Plate on a Horse would probably be 200-250 or so, maybe more if it's a big Knight.

Also modern horses while they're as tall as chargers I don't they had the same level of musculature that they did, and a warhorse had a massive flying fuckton of training poured into it.

>>22923277
Well, I nixed the idea anyway for being too out there. But, it wouldn't be so ridiculous if he was on another bike.

>>22923208
Of course it can. The robot has metal inside as well. Even aluminium is more dense than the human body. I mean, who knows what those robots are made of, but it's not hard to imagine them being really fucking heavy.

>>22923277
Knights didn't have to get mounted on a horse with a pulley. A properly trained and conditioned knight could run, jump, skip, perform cartwheels and other acrobatics in full plate, they could even swim though it was tiring as hell and unpleasant. If a knight fell over they could get back up without too much trouble.

Jousting plate weighed more, something around 100-110 pounds at the most, and you could have trouble moving around in it, but you were still supposed to climb on the horse yourself, maybe with a step or two to help.

From what we know about their horses they used Chargers which was a broad category of horses containing Destriers, Coursers, and Rounceys. Historical documentation puts their heights at 15-16 hands or so, fuck-huge draft horses are like 18 hands tall or so and weigh several hundred pounds more than the horses close in size to what we think war horses weighed.

>>22923452
So, if Knight could have found the right horse, it may have been possible?

>>22923492
It really depends on how much Knight would weigh. I mean it might be possible for him to ride a fuckhuge horse, they can carry an awful lot, though I'd worry about weight distribution due to all of the weight of Knight being concentrated on top of one place instead of evenly distributed.

Then there's the problem of feeding a horse, a huge draft horse goes through a lot of food, water, and so on.

All this talk about robot knights on horses gave me a silly idea: Tiny Don Quixote Locust rides a donkey and wields a lance.