Ideas for today:
- Use Zalgo speak on Rook
- Mention: Hisao, Shuya, Alura, Rook's squad mates
- Get Daegal to equip one of those photon net throwers and possibly give Haze any of the non-lethal Hollow Sun weapons
- Kill him if there's no other choice, but at least make an actual attempt at saving him. For Haze.

>>40535836

(Gentlemen: I owe you an apology. The past few days have been extremely uncertain ones, and this trend looks to continue - I am sincerely sorry for keeping you waiting, but my current situation is a less-than-stable one.)

The rush of boiling air. The dizzying acceleration as you leave the ground, the Tempest Scrander burning with forks of shimmering electric flame.

Beneath you, the world erupts into moiling chaos. Warped, twisted, Simulation Bodies fall like rain - the gravimetric suspensors of the vast lifter platform humming as it ascends, the walls of the great shaft flashing past; A fug of black Lachryma swirling, churning, like funeral incense - Or the choking smoke sweeping in from the ends of creation, as everything narrows to a laserpoint of battle flaring at the focus of the vast emptiness of Diadem.

Flashes of battle-

-shadows swarming towards Armaros as azoic energy gouts from his Distortion Halo, becoming crackling spheres, rotating arcs of blue flame that turning warped forms into thrashing torches-

-The Thief firing and firing again, each shot detonating limbs, shattering white porcelain masks, becoming a lightning-speared tornado of bullets and fists and blades, the Fatal Abyss whipping out in curving slashes too fast to see, becoming a near-invisible weave of sharpness that shears apart anything in his way-

-Daegal, firing from the hip, sparks banging off his shield, the Condemner's blade crackling as he cuts around himself with great sweeps-

And then Rook's vast raptor-form fills your field of vision, as he opens a maw crammed full of needle teeth and screams like a flaming banshee. You are already firing, plasma bolts searing across the narrow distance; howling shots, burning rounds that erupt against the writhing darkness of his wings in streaks and spatters of energy, bursting into brief flame - then going out, extinguished, clenched, even as they explode against his swelling form.

(Continued)

>>40536057
>(Gentlemen: I owe you an apology. The past few days have been extremely uncertain ones, and this trend looks to continue - I am sincerely sorry for keeping you waiting, but my current situation is a less-than-stable one.)
I prefer delays over you starving, OP. Or going full pepe, for that matter.

I'm just glad that you can still run despite the setbacks.

Though I hope that I won't be the only reader to appear today.

>>40536057

E͇̱̭̯̣A̧͖T͙̞͔̦̫͖̬ ̷E͡A̩̖͓T̹̼̖̠̩͔͓ ̱̠É̝̯̺̮̙̯͈A̷̲̟͔͖T̨̞ ͚̱̤̱̮E͓͎̖̦̺͍̯AT̛͍̯

You can *hear* him - but the words are not vocal. They are burning wires of venom, infused with a monstrous and primal force. Haze stumbles, caught on the fringes of it, and cries out, staggering - There is despair in it, but there is also terror, in the white-hot second before impact-

Impact.

Slake's hydra-maws punch into Rook's wings - Like harpoons, bristling with barbed teeth, coring out ragged chunks of smoking fleshmetal as they sink home. The Tyrant Burst system flares with brutal light, erupting in a cone of searing illumination - the photonic burst blitzing Rook like a blast of buckshot, lost against the swirling ash that wisps and bleeds from the cracked, filthy cuirass of his armor-

His armor-

He's growing beyond his armor. Something foul, something wretched beyond belief, is erupting forth - Smearing fibrous matter, like tissue and sinew, across Rook's reshaping frame. Whatever is hidden inside him, whatever is germinating and shooting through him, is much bigger than his physical form could ever hope to contain.

(Continued)

>>40536057
>(Gentlemen: I owe you an apology. The past few days have been extremely uncertain ones, and this trend looks to continue - I am sincerely sorry for keeping you waiting, but my current situation is a less-than-stable one.)
I def know the feeling. I'm rather sleep-deprived ATM, and I have exams coming up.
I'll catch up to you guys later. Please don't do anything too retarded, I'm begging you.

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>>40536217
>Please don't do anything too retarded

>>40536217
>Don't do anything too retarded
Everytime I think it can't get worse for Joker and Co., it does. We will always fuck up anon.

That said, we'll try.

Current non-lethal weapons:
- Graviton Cannon (Causes a speed debuff, potentially freezes a target)
- Line Launcher (Creates a net and damage over time)

Also, the Photon Lance could theoretically count as non-lethal, as Rook will likely have quick regeneration and this weapon could impale him to slow him down/pin him somewhere.

>>40536152

Rook's roar - Wordless, inarticulate - splits the air. His slitted eye lens leak trails of fuming Lachryma down his faceplate, monstrous jaws of ceramite and bone yawning open as his eyes flare with killing light.

His eyes-

You bring the Sinistral up, the ghost-steel wedge a heartbeat faster than the bloody plasma that boils forth. It is like a hail of needles - Not a beam, not a pulse, but scattering light that lashes out at you, even as it fragments; Burning lines scorching into your pauldrons, stitching across your limbs, your Scrander lurching as the fractured blast sears through your stabilizers-

And then the bony hooks of his talons - Branching out like bare trees - punch through your right shoulder, and you meet in a furious, tumbling blur. The world spins end-over-end - Rook's thrumming wing-blade slicing out with their killing edges, drawing sparks from your armor, molten lines - as you grapple, pulsejets and Scrander flaring at random intervals, throwing mad vectors into your plummet as he howls so loud cracks spiderweb across your altered optics-

HP: 139.5%
COBALT BOOSTER: 143%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 121%
METER: 43%
ENCROACHMENT: 8%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>40536319
Any diplomancers here?

My idea is something along the line of using one of these sentences:

"S̢huy̴a̵, A̢lu̸ra͘ ̴i̛s s̀till aļiv́e͠.
"D̛o yơù w̵a̷n͡t̶ to҉ ͜leav͘ę H̛i͠sao ͜han͘gin͜g?"

(I tried to zalgofy them in a way that stays readable. I personally have trouble reading them otherwise)

Hopefully it will stun him. Use that as an opportunity to attack him and pin him down.

So we are in a grapple with him. Time to use Tyrant Blast 2, followed by the Crisis Arm and then Abruption Jet away. Possibly use some DRAW FORTH to heal any functionality loss that we just received.

And remember to not use Meter if possible. Rook is the only enemy here who can replenish it. We do have Power_Transfer, after all.

Should we tell Daegal to use better crowd control weapons?
His equipment right now seems inadequate, even if it's IMO a bit weird to babysit his loadout choice while grappling with a crow harpyie from hell.

>>40536319

Use Draw Forth on him. If his HP is lower than his Corruption, all you need to do is to lower his encroachment.

>>40536319
My plan was essentially the same, >>40536406 so I'll second this.

>>40536406
Sounds good.

>>40536426
I don't think it will be that simple.

>>40536406
>>40536448
>>40536441

Your Tyrant Burst system flares again - And this time, at point-blank range, the energy discharge punches ragged holes into Rook's half-flesh, half-metal form; Ragged holes filling with new flesh, as if the Lachryma within him is worming forth, solidfying, sealing the wounds the way a smile slowly fades-

Awful fluids empty across your armor - Muscle chords straining beneath the sandpaper rasp of Rook's form. The world wobbles on it's axis, a surge of Rook's wings turning your surroundings into a smear-

When you hit the wall of the shaft, a huge wake of sparks kicks out from your back plating - There is a terrible noise of squealing, scraping, as Rook hauls you across the jagged surface, abrading your armor as red alerts flicker across your HUD. A brittle crackle of enerverating lightning buzzes across your form, one of your Tempest Scrander's thrusters crumpling to uselessness. You can't...get *free*-

Your Abruption Jets flare to furious life. The static thrusters *repel*, and everything goes violently sideways - Walls, floor, a calvacade of leering faces, Slake's gnashing mouths ripping fistfuls of flesh from Rook's form, lunging in to bite again and again; One lashing tendril cracks him across the face, his head reeling drunkenly - His grip slackens, the barbed talon wrenching out of your chest as his claws convulse against your form. He's-

You can't bring the Crisis Arm to bear. Instead, you punch your left hand directly into the cavernous wound left by the Tyrant Burst's discharge - Gauntleted fingers digging in-

And *pull*-

(Continued)

>>40536426
>>40536406

Rook howls. He roars and shrieks, grotesque muscle spasming, twitching, tortured nerves sending contradictory messages through his spasming form. Thick black sludge vomits from his maw as he jerks and twitches and snarls - Enormous wings beating, churning the air, as Lachryma boils out from the wound as it fights to close over: Foul tendrils of tarry black coiling against your limbs, sinking *into* you-

It is like plunging your hand into a broiling mass of filth and poison. It is like acid, like corrosive sludge, writhing chains of code blistering the edges of your vision, as you *twist*-

And Rook's maw surges down - In a monstrous, rippling motion - foul breath gusting against your armor, swinging in for the sideways bite.

But he's cleared your right arm. You drive the Crisis Arm forward in a short, slugging punch - the *crack* of impact a visible ripple, a miniature thunderclap, as ceramite splinters beneath your fist. It snaps his head back, wrenching it to the side; Fragments of teeth skittering away, pinging from your armor as his howl of frustrated outrage makes the entire world judder.

> "S̢huy̴a̵, A̢lu̸ra͘ ̴i̛s s̀till aļiv́e͠.
> "D̛o yơù w̵a̷n͡t̶ to҉ ͜leav͘ę H̛i͠sao ͜han͘gin͜g?"

A̫͖̞L̝̤͈̠̲̥̭U̥R̶̭̟̳̮Aͅ

A keening, a sharp need, a roiling hatred - Beating against you in palpable waves. Rook's form reacts, too - Growths and new organs bubbling, roiling, seething-

K͎̝͢I̥͢L̲̩͎̣͓̞͟ͅL̗͜ ̹̣A̤͚̳̦͟ͅḺ̛͇͔̟̱U͔̯͓̯̲R̴̯͙̼̝A͉̤̫̖͚̰͡

Then the ground rushes up to meet you, and the blank impact that follows smashes static through your optics.

(Continued)

>>40536751
Looks like our Palladium boy turned into a witch. (Or Warlock?)

What I mean is that his negative emotions seem to be amplified. Let's see if he reacts to the mention of his best friend. I would guess not.

>>40536751

"Shit-!"

"Joker, get away from him-"

Floor shrapnel sprays. You're not sure who hits the ground first, you or Rook - Just the impression of a tremendous impact, the platform shaking; Black blades carving, chopping, dismembering as Simulation Bodies trumble away in droves, shredded into lumps of thrashing flesh - Rook's split-jawed maw snaps shut an inch before your helmet, a heartbeat before it rips your face of - You're pinned beneath him, joints smoking as the violet-fire backwash of his pulsejets sending boiling, rippling heat racing across the deck-

H̝̻͡I͔S̖A̷͔̙͖̝̱͈̮O̳̕

He's trying to wrench himself away - But your left hand is buried in Rook's guts, twisting, ripping - Slake's maws punched through his wings, like barbed harpoons. Everything is chaotic, swirling confusion; Daegal brings his shield up in a vicious backhand that smashes one of his assailants aside, lurching towards you as Rook's thrashing form smashes you into the ground again and again-

H̰I̘̦̘̤̯̫͚S̝̭A̩̝̪̦͖̭O̥̤͉̗̞̘

"Shuya-!" Haze's eyeslits flash yellow, yellow - He pulls away from Armaros, one arm at his side, swirling with the noxious smoke he's gathered. "Shuya, you have to-"

There is a sound. A sound like brittle flint, the screech of steel-on-steel. The overlapping flesh-metal flechettes of Rook's wings rack, bringing the razored rows of Shrike blades to bear; Heedless of the way Slake gnaws through tendons and arteries, bringing the lethal crescent arc of one shearing wing in line with Haze's form, quivering in the instant before launch-

HP: 127.9%
COBALT BOOSTER: 127%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 92%
METER: 49%
ENCROACHMENT: 37%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>40536937

(Gentlemen, to clarify the situation: You are currently pinned beneath Rook, and you're using Draw Forth on him. His landing has more-or-less devastated the Simulation Bodies in his immediate vicinity - He is, however, about to launch his Shrike blades.)

>>40536972

just in for a brieeef minute - what did you say the other thread about our immunity to lachryma no longer being a thing / was it ever a thing?

>>40537013

(Ever since you used the Athame, you've no longer been immune to Lachryma.)

>>40537018

huh. Is alura's corruption not lachryma based, then?

>>40536937
"A̵r̛e͘ y̕o҉u ͠t͟rying ̴t̷o͜ bac̶ķs̸ta̶b ҉ỳou̕r l͘as̡t ͞s͏q̨u҉ad̸ me̵m͞ber̸?͘

Wh̴a͞t ̷k̕ìnd͜ ́of̢ ̀le̷ader a̢re ͠you?"

If he launches the blades at Hisao, protect him with Fortress Mode.

Use Abruption Jets/Aquila/Cobalt Booster to get leverage, followed by a Crisis Arm to punch Rook off and away from our body.

Follow up by throwing a Shroud spear. That should inhibit him, through the poison effect.

>>40536937
>37%
Christ.
>>40537050
This seems like a decent plan. Maybe swap the spear for EXEC_SWARM?

>>40537109
Yeah, I guess the swarm is easier to control if we don't need its damage over time anymore.

>>40537050

I͇̱͟

For one terrible moment - For one searing instant - frame drawn taut, shuddering, the thing that was Rook hesitates. Writhing worms of Lachryma close around the ragged wound in its gut, bleeding around you, bleeding into you - As something in his neck convulses, some alien anatomy grafted there. His head tilts back, the whole thing pivoting around the jaw, stretching the mouth inhumanly wide-

A glimpse of blackened teeth and tongue-

The Assault Shroud condenses, nanomaterial streamers becoming a lance, a jagged spear - spiralling onto itself, a barbed length that comes to a razor point as your fist closes around it. And before Rook can launch his blades, in that moment of awful, juddering conflict-

You drive the spear up through the underside of his jaw, and pin that hideous needle-toothed maw shut.

The howl of outrage - the convulsions, the thrashing - shudders through your audio receptors, as you *hang on*; The cavernous wound widening, emptying Rook out, surging *into* you in a foul drizzle of sputum and blood. It is too dark here - Too dark everywhere, thick and blinding, your focus narrowing to surging agony, your suit vents juddering as they try to cope with the Lachryma bleeding from Rook's wounds-

-----------------------------

As Haze stumbles, slipping, the Thief's hand closes around his wrist and wrenches him to his feet.

"Haze."

"Uh-?"

"Fire."

-----------------------------

Noxious smoke, lighter than air, a vile, sickly yellow, spews forth. It is a sphere, already losing cohesion as it expands - It erupts outwards in a moiling cloud, tendrils of fog reaching outwards, swallowing up the banks of Simulation Bodies that cling to the inner walls like parasites, like blood-engorged ticks.

(Continued)

>>40537400
Shit

>>40537400

The eerie constructs begin to tremble, as they are engulfed. Limbs swell, bulging from within, as the terrible reaction begins; Gigantism in fast-forward, tumorous growths swelling beneath the joints, pushing outwards in globs of swollen myomer, growing beyond all restraint. Bloating, reaching critical mass-

Then the first one *bursts*. The toxins catalyze a terminal reaction, swelling muscles into hypertrophy - Until they rip free from the frame, disrupting the brittle alignment that allows the form to stagger in a mockery of awareness, a mockery of life. The sickly eruptions spasm in wet thrashing life, a chorus of shrieks boiling downwards towards you...

-Something you're only dimly aware of, as your hand wrenches free. It is burning, burning - As if the jointed steel and electrodrivers of your arm have been packed with red-hot gravel, as if the throbbing veins of Lachryma that convulse against your armor are nerves, your actual *nerves*, exposed to the razor air-

Your vision flickers. There is something before you - A glimpse of something with too many faces, too many limbs, crumpling upon itself. The rush of air from the implosion rips the cloak of coiling smoke into shreds - Ash pattering down in serene plumes, as you peer through churning ash to see what lingers at the center of the blast-

Rook lies where he has fallen, crumpled on the dented deck plating. Dark smoke wisps from his limbs - His armor is stained to color of charred gore.

HP: 133.2%
COBALT BOOSTER: 127%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 68%
METER: 56%
ENCROACHMENT: 79%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>40537581
>ENCROACHMENT: 79%
Well, that isn't good.

>>40537581
>ENCROACHMENT: 79%
Oh sweet Babby Jesus why.
Try to protect Rook - from a distance, if possible.
Focus mostly on dodging everything that attacks us by using the abruption jets until the Encroachment goes way down.

>>40537581
Check his condition with all of our senses.

"Daegal, get a Line Launcher and a Graviton Cannon ready. I won't be able to knock him down again without killing him."

"Thief, I removed a lot of Lachryma from his body and he seems to have at least some vestige of his personality remaining.
Do you think he might get himself under control?"

"Haze, talk to him. But keep a distance. Try to see if he reacts like himself again."

>>40537642
>>40537621
Thankfully it depletes quickly.

>>40537581
Are there any enemies besides Rook left?

>>40537744

(Only a handful. Daegal, the Thief and Armaros can clear them out in a round or two.)

>>40537621
>>40537642
>>40537675

(Gentlemen, my sincerest apologies: I would love to continue, but it's extremely late for me. I apologize for the brevity of this thread - If it is still up in about eight hours from now, I'll be happy to continue if given the opportunity.

Good night, and God bless - I hate to leave you like this, but I have to turn in for now.)

>>40537849
No worries.

If you run in eight hours, you will get a completely different crowd from usual, as it fits completely different time zones.

>>40537849

Thanks for running any way OP, I'm sure things will work out for you.

So, guys, how do you interpret the situation?
Can Rook be saved?

Remember to sage if we aren't on the last page.