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/qst/ - Quests

You find yourself marvelling at ceiling in the second floor of the Second.

It's an endless metallic matress that, like a cloud, you can't tell how high it really is.

"This is a lot more than I expected." you hear Trash's voice, and turn towards her staring
blankly at the screen of the tall computer. You walk up to her, enjoying the smell of wet grass
and questionable food. Computers like that surround, in a fancy park with wide chairs and
green, a massive round seal etched to the floor that gives to the heart of the ship; the Bank,
where all of the water kept and scattered across the Second. As you reach her, Trash
doesn't turn to face you.

"Toasty, you couldn't possibly make all this cash on your own." She finally turns. "Not
even with five or seven jobs. Who did you kill? Tell me, I won't say."

You giggle. "One of my girlfriends wanted to start a factory, manufacturing trashcans of her
design that could compact the residue and save space." You giggle even more. "It sold
well!" Trash is still staring quizzically at you. "She couldn't afford it."

Trash nods, slowly "And you could afford a factory completely on your own, yeah, come
on, I'm bullshit-free, Roomba!"

"Oh," you start, you blonde hair waving as you
tilt your head, "there was this other girl-"

"Fuck that." she cuts you off as she, a bit
bluntly, lands a hand over your shoulder. "Let's see some ships.


You hear the door closing behind, and before you get the chance to use your orange sight,
Trash turns on the lights. It's a small, comfy apartment with a single wide room, a wide,
short glass table on it's center and a kitchen separated by a half wall on the other side.

"This looks so comfortable!" you blurt out, smiling. "Is this where you really live?"

"This is where we'll be doing the interviews, so it has to look nice. They got to see there's
cash in this." You follow her to the table, glancing around the house as you do. There is
a basket with fruits, a microwave, a painting of a man you aren't familiar with... You eyes
widen a bit; you don't think she lives here. As you turn to face her, a hand drags you to your
kness and a small book is placed in your hands.

"This is the ship's catalog." Says Trash, spreading both legs under the glass table.
"That's where the good stuff is. Soooo, what are we looking for? A big ship, two medium
ships, four small ships...? Hovercrafts?"

You study the page intently; it has a small
picture of each ship, along the prices and features of each.
I suggest we get a medium ship and either two small or another medium, based on the crews we assemble

Namefagging only to say Hi, I'm here
Buy Essex Class Aircraft Carrier.
We deserve a headpat for our excellent taste in girlfriends (even if they don't always get along) and investment strategies.

As for ships something fast without sacrificing much durability is probably the best for our purposes. Also something to act as a high power lift for recovery might be good to have around too, it can probably be a lot tougher for going into more hostile situations.

Hi Steve! Maybe two small fast ships and a medium "tractor" would be a good spread? We've really got no expertise in this so if Trash or someone else has advice we'll certainly listen to it.
I'm not sure about getting 1 or 2 other ships until we see who we get to crew them.

2 small ships would let us be in more places, but 1 medium ship would let us do more when we get there.

This is all assuming we trust the crews with our ships.

And keeping a name seems to be the acceptable thing in this quest so why not.

You ponder at the possibilities, going back and forth between the pages, before realizing all the
ships seem great to you. So you turn to Trash.
"I'd pick one big fucking monster, and get a few hovercrafts inside." She says just as you open your mouth. You close it. Trash scratches her blonde had. "That being said, I don't really know how a Support Center work." She shrugs. "At least you do."
I think the idea is something like one person has the controller and everyone else is watching and making suggestions, so keeping a name here is fine compared to everywhere else

' "When it rains it pours" is my worry I guess. Picking who to try to save was really hard on broken horn. If I can avoid it is like to keep you from having to make those same decisions ' after thinking a bit "maybe we should ask the people we're interviewing and they could give us ideas?"
You "hmm". The "driving hornmother- stranded airship" situation from a year ago comes to
mind. ' "When it rains it pours" is my worry, I guess. Picking who to try to save was really
hard on the broken horn Leader." You pause. Trash just stares at you. "If I can avoid it, I'd
like to keep you from having to make those same decisions."

"Pff, you'll be the fuck making them, I'll just be out there smashing things" she says, grinning.

You nod absentmindedly at her, then look at the catalog and wonder...

You close it. "Maybe we should save this for later, and ask the people we're interviewing and
they could give us ideas?"

"Sure?" Trash shrugs. Then she draws her legs
back, and soon she's standing. "I still have to do the whole advertising thingy, so here's the
keys." She flings them at you; they bounce on your head.

As she heads for the door, you
study her orange hoodie and pants with black stripes; she must do a lot of sport.

Then she turns. "Oh, and get some milk will ya? And cookies. And a banana. Or two. Two if you
want one-no, just buy two."

The door closes hard, making you flinch. You
look at the keys.

Well, it seems you've got yourself a whole day
in the second floor!
Let's go shopping. Get the things that Trash suggests. Get this place ready for interviews.
Buy... Cookies? But there's a kitchen! Buy bananas, milk, and the ingredients for our "Absolutely Perfect" chocolate chip cookies. Roomba may not know much as a Fake but she's got baking down to a very precise science. It's plenty clean enough I'm sure, so let's do our best to make it feel like home!

You let silence enshroud the room, and wait until it's absolutely certain that Trash isn't a
mile near.

Then grin.

Then giggle.

Then laugh slightly maniacally.

Oh, yes- this is it. The chance. It's going to work out, yes- you are dead set it will.

With your hands, you gently push yourself from the floor into a stand. You are making your
"Absolutely Perfect" chocolate chip cookies, and you will make that name /fit/. You check
the kitchen, the cupboards, the fridge. No. This won't do. You play the keys with both hands.


You couldn't stop yourself. You tried; barely. And now there's this big, intimidating headset
around your neck, the speakers of a puffy black that feels like pillows. With the cookies, you
didn't even try; what you got in the bags, balancing back and forth as you walk the wide
street is almost enough for a literal mountain.

And there's also for the banana pudding, apple
cake, a lemon pie, croissants-

You stop dead on your tracks, noticing a massive led screen in the distance that is right
on top of a restaurant's entrance. Your mouth gapes. You trigger your optic zoom to avoid
getting into the crowd; the advertising of a happy smiling family next to a tasty dish and
the slogan now features a happy smiling family next to a Hand, that's just about to wrap itself
around them. The words have been replaced, from "Enjoy our Maximun Souffle at the Great
series of numbers.

And oh no, oh dear; it's not the only one. There's another where a woman enjoying a
drink and winking is, now, sinking inside a broken ship, then there's the other where a
hornmother is munching on a carrot while a white-haired lady takes her clothes off behind
her. Oh dear... Finally, there's one a man simply
screaming while he sits on a toilet, this last one
without words, numbers or, anything.

...You turn around. There are even more.


The first thing you see as you open the door is Trash kneeling by the table, and the second
thing you notice is that she's butt naked with a towel over her shoulder.

She turns before you take a step. "Heya. C'mere, we got to fix a few more things."

You notice she's taking a drink as you walk up to her, and as you kneel by the glass table you
notice a blank paper in front of you, along a pencil.

"I'll be doing the interviews. Write in all the questions you want me to ask the Fucks; you'll
get your chance with them later." She giggles. "I've got a few calls already!"

The obvious questions...
-What do you think the job will be?
-Why do you want to do this job?
-What training and experience do you have?
-What do you expect of us, as your employers?
-What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
-What are you not willing to do?
-Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
"I noticed your advertising campaign. Do you think recruiting via vandalism is really a good idea?" Start baking while we talk

"We aren't exactly going to have a lot of Fucks to give, at least first. So the ideal candidate would be capable of a wide variety of things. Unique skills are a plus but we need a common core is skills so that 95% of the time anyone could go out on a mission... well outside of Arma missions. Everyone should know their way around the common ship models, basic troubleshooting, how to defend themselves, that sort of thing... then again they can learn too."

Give it a bit more thought, "I suppose the most important thing is if you think they're an honest... I won't say good, but at least not bad person."

Steve's got the basics covered I think, so I went with the philosophy instead.
You grab the pencil, pause, then nod to yourself a few times over.

-What do you think the job will be?
-Why do you want to do this job?
-What training and experience do you have?
-What do you expect of us, as your employers?
-What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
-What are you not willing to do?
-Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?

You hand the paper to Trash, she grabs it and studies it intently; then her eyes frown.

"This scribbling is so precise it goes from amazing to goddamned creepy." She glances at
you, still holding the paper with both hands. "No trick questions? Like, psychology thingies?"

You shake your head, dragging your blonde hair along. Trash looks into the paper, again.
"Well I'll guess this'll do..." she frowns further, as if the words had a trap, or a hidden archaic
meaning. When she turns, she finds you already chopping bananas in the kitchen.

"I notiecd your advertising campaign. Do you think recruiting via vandalism is really a good
idea?" You turn the oven on, to let it warm up.

You glance at Trash; she's stretching both arms upwards. "Well," she says "as long as it

You can't help to at least giggle. "We aren't exactly going to have a lot of Fucks to give, at
least first. So the ideal candidate should be capable of a wide variety of things. Unique skills are a plus, but we need a common core in skills so that 95% of the time anyone could go
out on a mission..." you recall the sinking ship. "Well, outside of Arma missions. Everyone should know their way around the common ship models, basic troubleshooting-" you get the
apple cake into the oven, it's a bit heavy "how to defend themselves, that sort of thing..." you
push it inside, then gasp. "Then again, they can learn too."

"Is that going to take long?" you hear Trash blurt out from the table.

You turn and smile. "Soon!"

It seems the smell is getting to her. Well, she didn't to eat that well... given the milk and her
body she does seem to be eating healthy... but that doesn't mean tasty! And woe to whoever
thinks you can't have both, you could prove otherwise every time they asked.

Trash sighs. "I'm gonna need a few days to filter the guys, but then I'm sending all the
Trash-approved Fucks in a row. I got, like a LOT more calls than I wanted." One of her eyes
twitches. "This won't be easy."

"I suppose the most important thing is if you think they're an honest-"?

Trash chuckles. ""an" honest?"

"At least not a bad person." you point at her with the ladle. "Want to try some?"

(Cont in a while!)

The second floor of the Second is surpisingly fancy, and it draws out how much time you've spent with less than four heads or air over you. While there are plenty of means for illuminations above and below, there are also two noticeable massive "scars" at the sides of the walls, from side to side. They seem made from glass, the material lets the sunlight inside the ship; a long conversation with an old lady at the butchery's waiting line reveals it's actually solid anima. Seven small drops of anima are enough for the average ship to run for a week, so, just how expensive is that?
You also think you may have spotted... a musclehorn, as you went back from grocery shopping, because you regretted the brand of oil you've bought. Yet, she was lost among the crowd.
As for Trash's minor incidents of "terrorism", they lasted just ten minutes after you went back home the first time. Odd.

And that's the gate to your apartment! Somehow, you are starting to dread getting used to this. Yet, with the whole bunch of odd looking folks, surrounding the entrance to the building, that worry starts to feel far-fetched.

You opt to just walk past them.

------------------------------(∪ ◡ ∪)---------------------------

"Oh." You blink a few times. "So those are the ones?"

"Yup! Each bears the brand mark of Trash-approved-Fuck." She smiles. "Let's get this started."
She takes out a small, ovallic box and gets it to her ear; you recall someone call that a cell-phone. It seems they connect with any other cellphone inside an EKE field. And since the Second is surrounded by one massive EKE field that keeps it togueter, they must be awfully convenient here.

Trash looks at the box and presses the button.
"First one comin up, then!" she grins. "Try to guess what's coming first."

You give the room a final look to ensure every chocolate chip cookie is in place. Yes, this will do. Taking your place at the side of the glass table, you let the spot that faces the door. It opens.

...You would have failed even if you tried.

It's small, small enough that it would have to climb a chair. It's legs are small, yet it's two feet are twice, as long as the body itself, It has a long, thick snout made from many hairs, in front of two triangular green eyes, like small led screens with a lot of brightness. It looks around, innocently; then it walks up to the table, each feet going comically upwards as it does, with a certain rhythm.

It climbs it, facing Trash. Who giggles hard, as she takes out the paper.

"What do you think the job will be?"
The sound is deep, metallic, and friendly somehow. Trash's cheek puff.
"Why do you want to do this job?"
"What trining and experience do you have?"
"What do you expect of us, as your employers?"
-What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big-" Trash stops. Her cheeks bright red.

You stare at her, but let her gain back her composture.
"Ok, let me explain." She takes a deep breath. "This little fellow was lost in the city. It's a What. What you see, is part of the hivemind of an independent ship, that's actually a living sentinent being. If we keep it, the ship might come looking for it." You are just still staring at her. "I also fucking love the little guys."
Trash grabs a cookie and flings it to the kitchen, the small thing follows it with its big feet.
"I'm sending all the guys in and then you pick those that suit your fancy. So, what do you think of this one? These are GREAT fixing things! We just need to feed it, a-and it doesn't even count as one, right?"
Sure, why not. It fixes things for food, and keeping safe (well safe-ish) until its ship comes for it would be helping.
>you let Trash the spot that faces the door. It opens.

Oh no, it's OLQ all over again D:
You sit and stare at the door, smiling like a cat as you wait for the next candidate; the door
blows open.


Your eyes go wide; that's the most chilling, booming voice you've ever heard, and you bet
it's going to stay that way for some time. The man, a black, tall man in a shamanistic white
sheet, under a wide, shining afro, covers his face as he does a pose in silence.

He slowly reveals his face. "Da White Walka'... is in!"

The White Walker kneels in front of Trash. Calmly, she clears her throat as she bounces
the paper against the table.

T: What do you think the job will be?
WW: Helpin da good man!
T: Why do you want to do this job?
WW: To help da good man, boy!
T: What training and experience do you have?
WW: (he pauses at this, his mouth gaping) Shhhhhhhhiiiiieeeet, Idunno?! Da White Walke
's good at all, ladies! Let me show you mah shit! (he takes a cookie from the bowl at the
center of the table and places it in front of him. Then gets a hand over it; a blue circle spawns
around the cookie. Then... it's sliced evenly into small squares by an invisible force. Trash
whistles, then winks at you.)
T: Can you use QG to fix a wound?
WW: Aye aye nigga, dat's what I do.
T: What do you expect of us, as your employers?
WW: Steak. And sum garlic.
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
WW (frowns both eyes): Nigga I dunno, I just fix people.
T: What are you not willing to do?
WW: Bitches.
T:Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
WW: Da White Walka can help em both!

Trash turns to you, smiling, and opens a palm towards the White Walker.
You've watched (and lived) enough Sci-fi horror movies to know what "hive mind" implies...

But it's so cute!
But so where tribbles. Hmm.

"So what happens when the mother-ship finds little Wario here? We get eaten out of the blue? A whale song? They touch glowing snoots and go home? Just how much does anyone know about the little guys anyways?"
I'm gonna put him in the definitely maybe column. That QC thing he can do can be helpful, but I question his functioning sanity. Plus being freaked out by our crew is not helpful.
"Thank you for your time Mr. White Walker, Your healing skills are something we're sorely lacking. We'll get back to you shortly so please take a few snacks for the wait!" along with an incandescent smile.
"Thank you for your time Mr. White Walker, your healing skills are something we're sorely lacking." You smile brightly at him. "We'll get back to you shortly so please take a few-"
"-Cookies." Trash cuts you off.
"-for the wait!"

The White Walker bows solemnly at you, grabs a cookie, and walks out with big steps. You turn to Trash.
"So, what happens when the mother-ship finds little Wario here?" You tilt your head to the side. "We get eaten out of the blue? A whale song? They touch glowing snoots and go home? Just how much does anyone know about the little guys anyway?"

"They've been really solid so far!" Trash seems defensive, she even leans back a bit. "A lot of ships have What ships for pets; you just got to threat these nice guys right! And who should be threated right, right?"
You pout. "So, do you know?"
She shrugs, frowning her eyebrows.

Much better, HH. Good luck with the Quest.
The door opens. An extremely pale face leans from under the roof of the door, over a very tall
body covered in wraps. Trash swallows as he crouches to fit; once inside, you can tell he
must be, at least, seven feet tall. He walks up to Trash and sits, in peaceful silence.

"Good day, Roomba." he rumbles, smiling awkwardly. His voice is deep and echoes, it
somehow makes you think of black. You notice that his eyes are just two black balls stuck over
his cheeks; no eyelids, no eyebrows. "My name is Bravado."

T: What do you think the job will be?
B: To assist the dwellers of the Surface, in their dire or peaceful moments.
T: Why do you want to do this job?
B: My situation is dire. I'm a nitrolich... as you may have noticed. My body is in ill shape, and without sustain I won't last much longer.
T: What training and experience do you have?
B: As all of my kin, I can manipulate flesh and organic components. I do not abide fighting, yet
my body can be adapted to suit your needs.
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
B: Currency.
(One of his arms falls off to the side. The long silence is then interrupted by a "-WALKAAAA,
BIIITCH!!" coming from the outside.)
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
B: It depends on the size of the crew. For this particular endeavor, I'd recommed two medium
ships to cover more terrain, and react faster to any possible treath.
T: What are you not willing to do?
B: Pointless harm.
T: Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
B: It depends on the circumstance.

Trash turns to you. She's pale.

This seems interesting. What do we know about nitroliches?
Ditto, what exactly does he need to live again?`If it's anima that's going to make this a lot more difficult than a cheery "Sure!" (Personal bias, Flesh-crafters are another favorite character type of mine)

"What do you need to live? I'm, um, this is the first time I've heard of nitroliches!" you get a hand behind your nape as you laugh calmly.

"Nitro-Lichs use flesh for everything," It's Trash's voice, "and they are the best there is when it comes to fixing a body, or replacing an organ. They are pretty much disease-proof, so hey can't be infected or sick or anything. The thing is when they want to fix us... it's not easy. Er, how was is, Fleshy?"

"We must first replicate your flesh in order to replace it. Our system adapts flesh to our body, yet yours does the inverse. Rejection must be avoided, and in order to do so a process is required."

"Basically, they think of meat as we think of metal and circuits." Trash finishes, nodding. "It's a science in it's own right."

"My demands are currency." His deep voice is somewhat unsettling. "To further my lifespan, I requiere to fix my core, which is beyond my capabilities."

"Because it's mechanical." Trash smiles. "Next?"
This guy sounds critical. We need a medic/doctor.

What are his specific currency requirements (how much does he want and how often does he want it?)

Is that amount negotiable if we can arrange to have his core repaired?
"Oh, so it's not something like anima! That's a relief." Give Trash a look of approval despite her shitting bricks.

"Please take... If you would like to take some treats for the wait while we decide then go ahead!~"
Or if we can offer facilities to help with that. All Trash's talk about a factory has given me some ideas.
"Oh so it's not something like anima! That's a relief." You give Trash a thumbs up and a smile,
she nods quickly. You face Bravado, feeling how your neck bends. "Please take... if you
wold like to take some treats for the while we decide then go ahead!"

"I do not take your kindness lightly." The hulking walking corpse goes for a cookie; his
hand is way to big to brag one, so you get one, turn his hand upside, and place in on his palm.
He smiles awkwardly, then heads towards the gate.

After a while, a hornmother enters the room, wearing a bandana over her forehead and...
carrying an axe with both hands. You notice Trash raising an eyebrow as the hormother
stays in the door, her face hard as a rock. Then she walks inside, one step at a time, and sits in
from of Trash. You both share a /look/; she looks young. Yet Trash clears her throat.

T: What do you think the job will be?
H: Uuuuuuummm... (she starts sweating) napping?
T: Why do you want to do this job?
H: I, well, the others... I can... I... I jus-I just want to go home!!
(she's crying. Soon, she's sobbing.)

Trash turns to you. Her eyebrow is still up.
Give her a cookie and a hug.

We can help her like we're supposed to.

Why can't she go home like she wants?
Go over and comfort the poor thing! Give her a hug, hand her a cookie, and tell her it'll be ok. "You came to the right place at the wrong time is all, once we get started give us a call and we'll do our best to get you home ok? There there *pat pat*"
Comfort her, first with two cookies and some milk. Then tell her about some stories about Brokenhorn when you first met her, namely how she used to be so scared (Don't mention that she died due to Leitali), but how she became the bravest Horn you ever knew. Be kind and gentile to her, and when she calms down, let her answer questions at her own pace.
Man I need to slow down on posting replies and listen to you guys first.
Nah, you're doing good. Its the little differences in our posts that make our ideas better.
You "dawww!" and rush to hug the hornmother; you feel her little arms wrap around your back. You caress her cheek with yours.
"It's going to be ok!" you lean away from her, then grab a cookie without breaking eye contact; her black eyes are wet, and she's still sobbing. You give her her the cookie, she instantly starts munching at it. "You came to the right place at the wrong time is all, once we get started give us a call and we'll do-"
"You about done there?!"
You look over the hornmother's shoulder and gasp; today is full of surprises. A... musclehorn enters the room. Her muscles are mighty, her eyes are blank, and there's this.... miniature... haremhorn, standing over her shoulder. A close look through your optics reveal her skin is just too smoth, and her hair is actually a helmet. She's like a toy.
"Well?!" the miniature haremhorn's voice sounds far and mechanical; her mouth doesn't move when she talks. "Are you about done here? I thought we had been called!"
The hornmother stares terryfied, then swallows. The haremhorn's small face slowly fixes itself on her.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the hornmother pushes you and heads out of the room. You stare at the mountain of muscles from the floor, soon frowning your eyes at her.
"Sit in front of that woman. Yes, right over there." The musclehorn sits in front of Trash, who blinks a few times over. Finally, the nohorn clears her throat.

T: What do you think the job will be?
MH: Taking morons out of the water.
T: Why do you want to do this job?
MH: Money!
T: What training and experience do you have?
MH: I have wide experience regarding anima exclusive technology, and we can detect objects in the near proximity thanks to our pulse radar! This will really come in handy if we need to find something, or someone!
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
MH: Money, shelter, and food!
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
MH: I don't know?! I don't care!
T: What are you not willing to do?
MH: Free.
T: Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
MH: Depends on the chances, the lifespan, the importance... it's something to be calculated from sheer numbers!

Trash turns to you. She shrugs.

What is the range on you're pulse radar?

Why are you so mean?
These first, then I might have an idea...
Do you know that Hornmother out there?

How is your relationship with the Greathorn? There is a distinct possibility we may have to deal with them.
"What is the range of your pulse radar?" you ask, calmly, as you get from the floor.

"It detects everything 40 meters around me! Every single details! Even the mole on that
woman's butt and the Tip-Top she stole from the store inside her pocket!"

Trash raises a finger. "Accurate."

"I see." you nod. "But why are you so mean? Why did you yell at that sweet hornmother?"
"She wasn't supposed to be here! It was my turn, I was called!" you notice the small
haremhorn toy's arms are waving up and down.
Is she still nearby?

Wait, who called you?
Trying >>679777's second question again.

>How is your relationship with the Greathorn? There is a distinct possibility we may have to deal with them.

If she was exiled, I'd like to know that BEFORE we inevitably have to meet up with the Greathorn.
That radar thing will be quite useful during a search and for finding broken things during repairs.

She will have to learn to be less mean, but maybe that's a hornmother thing. (even though she's not a hornmother)

Exiles may be problematic, but only if we don't know and have one trying to deal with the Greathorn.
"Lets see how good the resolution of your radar is in a dense crowd: Is that hornmother from before still nearby?"

Add this to be sure, then it'll be time to teach a (fake?) Fake some manners.
Well everybody, Its getting late for me.

Goodnight Haremhorn. Good night everybody. I'll see you in the morning.
You hold you palm up; the "haremhorn" stops.
"How is your relationship with the Greathorn?"
"A cero! We've never been there! We can handle things on our own!" her tiny arms wave, yet again.

You stare at the ceiling for a while, then "hmm"."Lets see how good the resolution of your radar is in a dense crowd: Is that hornmother from before still nearby?"
"She's sobbing in a corner." she states, coldly.

Once she's answered those: "So who called you then?" Check with whoever it was and see if they really did call for the harem and muscle first, then spring the trap on them if there is any doubt:
"The exact phrasing you used was:

>"Well?! Are you about done here? I thought we had been called!"

If my syntatic-semantic parsing systems are correct that indicates some confusion doesn't it? It's rather rude, even illogical to tell a hornmother to scram based on that isn't it? Just who and what are you?"
You nod abstent-mindedly a few times. "So who called you then?"
Nobody talks. So you turn, and meet Trash raising a hand.
"How did you think they knew when to come up?" She raises an eyebrow.
"What exactly did you say then Trash?"
"And should I even bother telling the musclehorn? Or is this arrangement really for the best?..."
After the Cyberhorn and her Musclehorn leaves (DON'T FORGET THE COOKIES!!!), bring back in the Hornmother and talk a bit longer.
I wonder, would their eyes be opened to the magical world of carbo loading or would they reject it in favor of lean eating?

"If you Give a Musclehorn a Cookie..." Will they ask for a glass of whey protean to go with it?

"Oh." You get a finger up your chin, staring at the ceilig. "What exactly did you say then,

"The message said "Come on up". It's the hormother that came outta nowhere."

"Exactly, and that's very rude!" The mini-haremhorn's voice draws your attention,

You scratch your neck, giggling. "I hope you can forgive me, but this is the first time I've
seen a haremhorn so small! Are you a... Fake smallharemhorn? Hmm, would that be it?"

You hear a sigh, yet her face remains motionless. The haremhorn's face turns
towards the musclehorn.

"See?" who, in turn, turns her big head and horns towards the small thing. "I told you she
was going to say that!" she turns her small, bubbly head towards you. "I'm a haremhorn, not
a Fake! Are you blind or something? How often do you clean those eyes of yours?" She turns
to Trash. "So do we get the job or what?"

"Go outside and wait with rest." she deadpans.

"Also grab a cookie!" you blurt out, happily.

"No thanks. Move it."

The musclehorn stands carefully; her face was so blank all the time she almost feels like a
Fake, too. But one last gesture before she leaves makes you doubt that; she scratches
her butt before closing the door behind her.

You blink a few times, then stand and rush behind her. You catch the harem-muscle duo
waiting for the elevator, almost right next to your door.

"Before you go, would mind you tell me where the hornmother is?"

The musclehorn doesn't turn, yet the bubbly haremhorn's head does a sudden 180 spin, like
an owl. "Do we get the job?!"

"It... doesn't hurt your chances, I guess? Haha!" you laugh a bit nervously.

The bobbly head remains fixed on you, then it suddenly spins again towards her right. "Right
through these stairs three floors below." The elevator arrives. "You won't miss her."

"Thank you!" you bow softly, then rush (at your own, Roomba's pace (which isn't a lot))
towards the stairs.

And it isn't long until you find the hornmother, sobbing slowly in a corner, hugging her axe like
a pillow.
Hi. Would you like to come up for cookies. We'd like to help you.
Kneel down next to her, we wouldn't want to scare her.

"I'm sorry about that rude Fake haremhorn we've sent her and her musclehorn away to wait. Are you going to be ok? Do you want to come inside for a bit and talk?"
A universe question...

Hands are things that reach down from the sky and wreck stuff?

Anythings are really powerful beings that are trapped below and sometimes surface to wreck stuff?

And Leaderhorn has become an Anything?

I just want to get the world straight in my head.
You gently hit the wall at your right a few times so the hornmother notices you; she flinches as
she does, but barely. Without rush, you walk up and kneel next to her.

"I'm sorry about that rude Fake haremhorn, we've sent her and her musclehorn away to
wait." The hormother rises her forehead, her black eyes meet yours. "Are you going to be
ok? Do you want to come inside for a bit and talk?" She stares numbly at you. "We got a lot
of cookies!" She swallows, then quickly nods at you.

Next to you (away from the door) the bandana hornmother peacefully munches on a cookie,
glancing every now and then at the What standing over Trash's head. The door opens; a
man walks in. Silently. Half his face is hidden by a big, leather hat, he wears a thick
trenchcoat and dense black gloves. It's only after he lets himself drop in front of Trash that
you notice the small girl behind him, leaning from the door, until the man makes a hand
gesture without looking behind and the girl walks up and sits beside him. Her skin is bright
and very bright, her hair is short and of a really intense blue, and she looks away once you look
at her in the eyes. She almost the same trenchcoat, her size.

"These three come togueter." Trash opens a palm towards them, smiling. "The guy is !'%&,
the girl is Deso, and the giant is Maximus."

You look around. "What giant?"

"Hey, that's your cue!" It feels strange how Trash didn't say "you fuck" or something like
that, but it takes you little to wonder why. Behind the man and the girl, a big, a truly BIG
man flickers to life, his muscles putting Ado's to cry and yell behind a corner... it takes a while
before you finally stop bending your neck. What you find, though, is the peaceful look of a young
looking face under black, messy short hair, bending under the roof. Even when he sits, he's
twice the man's size.

Trash clears her throat.

T: What do you think the job will be?
!'%&: To go on missions across the surface, in most scenarios to save people.
Deso: To go on on missiooons across thet surface, in many scenarios, to save the people.
Maximus: Maximus.
T: Why do you want to do this job?
!: Well... let's just say I need some peace for a while. (you spot an eager grin below the hat)
D: I want to make people happy. I like making people happy, it makes me happy.
M: Maximus.
T: What training and experience do you have?
!: Well, eh, a bit of everything here and there. Let's just say we are extremely good at this,
Trash can tell.
D: I'm still learning things.
M: Maximus used to serve the Third.
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
!: To pay me, feed me, groom me... just kidding, I want you to take this seriously.
D: To not be meanies?
M: Maximus would like a cookie. (you push the bowl towards him, smiling straight at him. It's
not easy, but he manages to grab a cookie between two fingers. While everyone is
looking at him, you notice Deso quickly
snatching one from the bowl.)
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
!: One big hybrid, a 711-MOARA, and a crap-load of hovercrafts, those things are as fast as
they are cheap.
D: One... big... thingy, of those that... and hovercrafts?
Maximus: Maximus agrees with Deso.
T: What are you not willing to do?
!: Split. You take us all, or you take none.
D: Split!
M: Maximus.
T: Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
!: Well, it's largely circumstancial...
D: I can help both!
Maximus: Maximus would waste no time thinking.

Trash turns to you. Her eyes shine over her grin.

Hands come from below, and usually hover near the surface. The usual axiom regarding a Hand is that, if you can see it, you are already being targeted.

Anythings are extremely dangerous beings that can only be killed by finding "plotholes" in their system, most of them act erratically, and as a whole they are widely unpredictable. Most are currently trapped under the water, it hinders their movements.

Leaderhorn took down the Third on her own in a gruesome fight against Sansui, one of the worlds most renowned scientists. Given her capabilities during the battle, it's assumed she has become an Anything.

It is public knowledge that Trash is a guy and that her own claims should be disregarded.
These guys are in. But I want to know more about their specific training and experience.

Have they led teams before?
Can they pilot the craft we need?

And a new standard question to ask everyone: Is there someone they won't work with-by personality or nature? Like will the Nitrolich be willing to work with someone we bring on to handle violence?
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I forgot to mention, Deso is wearing a small polar hat! It kinda looks like this, by the way. =w=

All good questions, we certainly need to make sure personalities wont clash too badly.

Also, can Maximus even fit on a standard ship?
Staring at the weird trio, you attempt to figure out their past by their shapes alone. You give up, soon.

"Has any of you led teams before?" you inquire.

"We are a team if that counts." It's !'%&'s soft voice. It makes you feel like you are being
taunted into jumping off a cliff, and you are about to do it just to prove him wrong. "But
sure, let's say I have that kind of experience."

"Would you be able to pilot the crafts we need?"

"Well," it's !'%&, again. "Deso here, well, lets say she's still learning." He pats her head, she
closes her eyes. "And as you can tell, Maximus here will need something a bit bigger. Aside
from that, both me and the big guy are familiar with a few series already."

"I see, I see." You nod, still a bit in the dark. "Is there someone you wouldn't work with, by
personality or nature? For example, a nitrolich?"

"Maki." Deso turns and pouts at him, you can see a wide smile under the hat. "I'm just
kidding. Nitroliches are fine guys, I don't mind them, how about you guys?"

"Um, they are nice I guess." You notice a pattern; Deso has a hard time talking, mostly
spacing correctly between words.

"Maximus is going to tell Maki."

"!'%& has a bottle of chili." he warns.

You study the giant; werent for his head, it would feel like he's always closer to you than
the rest. "I do apologize If I'm being mean here, but wouldn't your size be an issue if you
wanted to be inside a ship?"

"Maximus usually travels in roofs."

"Oh, I see." you feel a bit more in the darkness.

Trash clears her throat. "Next?"
Yup. They're in. Assume team lead for now. And I'm definitely thinking two medium craft. It doesn't look like we'll get too many people/small groups that can handle a wide variety of tasks so the small ships will just be overwhelmed and underutilized.

We've got, by the looks of it: Muscle, Search and Rescue, Medical, and...uh...I'm not sure where the White Walker fits it, but I have a feeling that he's gonna be really handy when the time comes, but less useful the rest of the time.
Nod "Thank you everyone, feel free to take some treats with you while you wait for our decision!~"
I feel like White Walker is going to be kinda redundant with Bravado around though. Though !'%& is right, a big hybrid and a bunch of hovercrafts seems like a good idea. something roomy so our new and very large friends don't have to bang their reads on the ceiling. We also have repairs covered with wah-rio.
I fear the hovercrafts may be spreading the party too thin.

I like the idea of having multiple medics on board. Like one is a hardcore doctor and the other a paramedic.
You nod at the trio. "Thank you everyone, feel free to take some treats with you while you wait
for our decision!"

!'%& nods as you as well, it seems he has a hard time turning around. You glance at Deso
staring at the bowl, a literal trail of saliva going flowing through the corner of her mouth; it
makes you tilt your head. Gently, you push the bowl a bit near her from across the table, she
looks startled at you but you smile. She takes one cookie, then; she turns, turns around again
and grabs another. Then she stands, waits until Maximus goes through the door and follows him

Then she rushes back inside, grabs a handful more of cookies, bows, and escapes. Both you
and Trash look at each other, and shrug.

As you are about to say something about the balance and stoicness in which the What has
remained through the conversation you spot, from the corner of your eye, long blonde hair
leaning through the door. Under a head, of course. Which winks at you as it walks inside,
dragging a slender, pretty body under black clothes in fluid motions towards the table.

It sits. You look at it; it's a woman, with long blonde hair, and she's staring intently at Trash
as she smirks. You turn to Trash; her mouth is wide open, and she' frowning.

"No." she warns.

"Hello there! I'm Trash's-"


Trash. Everyone gets a turn. We'll talk later.
So wait, is that Val? I can't imagine it being Snacks. Either way >>682034 This.
"Trash" you get a hand over her arm, she turns to you. "Everyone gets a turn. We'll talk later."

"Is that some kind of a threat?" she says, one of her eyes twitches.

You blink at her. "No?" As you turn at the blonde, you notice she's waving at the
hornmother, who further hides behind you yet not before grabbing another cookie.

Trash is pouting hard, yet she bounces the paper against the glass table.

T: ...What do you think the job will be.
B: It's a Support Center, right? So we must be helping people!
T: Why do you want to do this job.
B: Because I think I'd be pretty good at it? I also like the whole saving people part.
T: What training and experience do you have.
B: I'm a Manager, so I'm very proficient with AO manipulation. I'm bringing my own AD's and anima suit unless that's a problem!
T: (Squints at the blonde) What do you expect of us, your employers?
B: (Opens both arms wide open) Love!!
T: Yeah, yeah, we don't have that.
B: Ooooh, is that-
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small ships, or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
B (scratches her chin): I, um, am completely terrible with ships, hahaha...! I will be honest with you, Roomba, I still end up swimming most times I have to use a hovercraft.
T: And that's one big fucking issue. Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
B: Is one of those you?
T: ...Fucks sake.

Trash turns to you, more than mildly annoyed.
Hmmm... what does AO stand for once again? I sorta kinda forgot this one detail.

Sounds like she has useful skills and gear, but her lack of professionalism towards Trash, and her inability to pilot are serious downsides.
Give Trash a disproving look: "What do you mean we don't have love? That's the one resource we'll never have to worry about!"

Turn to the interviewee "I'm sorry, I don't think we caught your name? And would one of you two mind explaining why Trash seems to have an issue with working with you?"

"Also, isn't a manager someone who runs a business? What does that have to do with AO manipulation?" Throwing in a head tilt for extra Moe-Points™

Agreed, though if she has an anima suit that might negate the need to pilot?

Resting an elbow over the table and then your head over your hand, you give Trash a slightly
disproving look. "What do you mean we don't have love?" You tried to sound as serious and
bussiness-like as you could; it seems you did well, by the look on her face. "That's the one
resource we'll never have to worry abou!" You turn to the inteviewee, smiling widely as you
do. "I'm sorry, I don't think we caught your name? And would one of two mind explaining
why Trash seems to have an issue with working with you?"

"Oh, I'll take this one, I'm Vaal! Trashy here is my-"

"-girlfriend." Trash deadpans.

Vaal giggles, happily. You look at one and then to the other, and when you fail to find the right
question you just tilt your head.

"Don't think too much of it." Vaal winks at you. "It's just our personal quarrel. Am I right?"

Trash doesn't nod, but by her bored look and silence you dare to guess she agrees.

"Also," you resume, raising a finger-


"-isn't a manaer someone who runs a business? What does that have to do with AO
manipulation?" You tilt your head, this time to the other side.

"You mean you don't know?" It's Trash, her voice back to usual. "Roomba, we are about to
open a fucking Support Cen-"

"Managers use independant modules for a wide variety of things through AO, which stands for
"Artificial Orbit"." she talks gently and with fluidity, while looking at you right in the eye. It's somewhat alluring. "We Managers sustain an
EKE field around us through our anima suits, and that EKE field serves as the center of
gravity for our AO. We manipulate that gravity to keep our modules floating around us, and to
move them inside the AO at will." You "oooooh", as you nod at her. "It really comes in
handy for a lot of things, but my specialty is anti-personnel maneuvers." She grabs your
hand and shields it with both of hers, as she smiles from side to side while dimming her
eyes at you. "I might be the single most dangerous lady you'll ever meet."

You just stare at her, frozen, noticing how Trash doesn't say anything about this. Well, you
never got to meet Leateli, after all...
So she handles violence. Not sure how much we need that.

Ask her what her Modules do.
"Can you kill Anythings? Hands? Other people are less of a worry than those when it comes to support calls. What can your modules do besides killing?"

"Can you kill Anythings?" She leans a bit closer. "Hands? Other people are less of a
worry than those when it comes to support calls."

"If you want to kill a Hand, you need an Arma; it's the rule of thumb. As for Anythings?" she
shakes her head. "I don't know what could."

You "hmmmmmm", widely; the idea of having to kill people doesn't exactly please you. "What
can your modules do besides killing?" You ask, as she still caresses your hand..

Vaal "hmms". "There's the "Parry-VA", it's basically a ball with EKE that makes things
bounce via pulsar, it's usually to defend myself. Then there's the "Floor-VA" and the "Sticky
VA", the first one spawns an EKE field that you can stand on, and the second is a personnal
invention of mine; it swaps the center of gravity.
Hey, why don't I show you?"

She fumbles through her long black robe, and takes out a techy-looking black ball; carefully
she tosses it above, it stays there. Then Vaal is lifted from the ground, and starts orbiting around
it, above you and Trash. You feel the hornmother tugging your arm, shaking.


"Exactly!" Vaal points out from above, as if swimming. "Like this, I become the AD and the
AD becomes the Manager!" She stands on the ceiling. "Just think of the possibilities!"

"Next?" It's Trash voice, her face moves around as she follows Vaal with her eyes.
Pat hornmother, tell her its ok.

We'll be in touch.

Then talk to Trash, but take what she has to say with a grain of salt,.
Take a look at what has the hornmother so spooked and give her a pat. I think we have a good enough feel for what Vaal can do that we can move to the next person now. Of course offer her some treats for the wait too!

You look at the hornmother's black eyes, and follow them all the way to the cookies being
raptured from the bowl, straight into Vaal's hands. Still looking, you headpat the
hornmother, the first time in one of her horns.

"Thank you for the interview, I hope you enjoy the cookies while you wait for our decision!"

"Uh? I'm not in yet?" She pouts, and then is flung across the room towards the entrance,
grabbing the black orb on the way. It's soon inside her coat, then Vaal turns and smiles.
"Just kidding! Be seeing you!" She flings a kiss, and you can /feel/ it passing you by. Then,
as the door closes, Trash sighs hard. Without another word, she goes for the cellphone.


The door opens, an armor walks in. You rise your neck and study intently as it walks up to
the table; it's slim, despite seeming very heavy, it's in very bright black and white patterns, and
there's a gap in the helmet where the eyes should... oh, my, those /are/ eyes. Big, round
yellow eyes, floating in the darkness.

It sits in front of Trash. The What jumps from her head and goes to the kitchen, even the
armor follows it by turning it's head; when it comes back it's with a wet rag. Without further
issue, the What walks up to the armor and starts cleaning, swiping left and right with it's
long feet.

Trash draws the attention by bouncing the paper against the glass table. It must be quite
the sturdy paper...

T: What do you think the job will be?
A: (A picture spawns between Trash and the
armor, you lean back from where you are to get a better angle. It's a Elogio, crashing into the
waters. Trash nods.)
T: Why do you want to do this job?
A: (The picture remains.)
T: What training and experience do you have?
A: (The picture flicks out, and is abrutly replaced by another; this time is the armor
smashing a ship with a wrench, then the armor sitting in a pilot's seat, then the armor playing
cards with a himehorn Arma.)
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
A: (The picture swaps to the first one, the Elogio crashing into the seas.)
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
A: (This time, the picture that spawns is very wide; it's the Greathorn. You gasp, suddenly a
bit sad.)
T: What are you not willing to do?
A: (The first picture, again.)
T: Two people need help. You can only help
one. How do you decide?
A: (The picture vanishes. The armor just shakes it's "head")

Trash turns to you, turning the paper around towards you; it's a doodle of her shrugging, "Your turn" it's writen below her feet. It's surprisingly well drawn.
Give a small, excited round of applause "That's so cool!" Oh, but wait... "Though we mostly communicate via radio on missions. Will you be able to work with that?"
A competent pilot. We need a second pilot, no matter how many ships we have.

But we do need to find out if radio communication is possible.

Not sure what it means by that first picture related to pay and what it won't do.

You give a small, excited round of applause; a picture of the armor spawns in front of you, it
has a hand behind his helmet and rows of floating red stripes across where the mouth
would be.

"That's so cool!" You stop, then think it over; then "hmm", slightly. "Through we mostly
communicate via radio on missions. Will you be able to work with that?"

The armor looks around, as if looking for the answer... then downcast it's head.

"As far as I know," It's Trash, behind you, "either Mi Abass or Crixas were working on a
talking module for Inkeds. The prototype sucks, but it's a work in progress at least."
Then we have a possible work around.

Thank you for coming, would you like a cookie while we make our decision?
I assume he means causing trouble?

Look just as sad as he is when he can't think of an answer then when Trash mentions Inked "OH! You're one of the new Inked right? I'm sorry I've never met one before! Or at least I don't think I have, I figured they where just the quiet sort of Arma.. Anyways! I was thinking that I would play double duty as dispatcher and pilot of the main ship given that I'm not very useful in any kind of dangerous situation but you could be our main pilot until we can get you a vocoder... Err, that is assuming we choose to hire you of course!~ If you'd like a snack to tide you over while you wait for our decision feel free to take some <3"
That word takes lifts your head up. "OH! You're one of the new Inkeds, right? I'm sorry, I've
never met one before!" You lean closer to him, adjusting your glasses. "Or at least I don't think
I have, I figured they where just the quiet sort of Arma... Anyways! I was thinking that I would
play double duty as dispatcher and pilot of the main ship, given thatI'm not very useful in any
kind of dangerous situation "you shrug, "but you could be our main pilot until we can get you a
vocoder..." You pause. "Err, that is assumingwe choose to hire you, of course! If you'd like a
snack to tide you over while you wait for our decision feel free to take some!" You close your
eyes and tilt your face to the side as you say so; it's kind of addictive. The Inked stares at
the bowl; then slowly shakes it's head from side to side, bows, and takes its leave.

"Those guys are great for maps." Trash says. "Or at should be. I dunno." She grabs a cookie, and splits it in half. "We've got just a few guys
left. I think you knew these already."

You look at the smiling Arma's face as she closes the door behind her with a heel. Preah
and you got close enough that by now you don't even need to greet her. As she walks up to the
table, she does a quick spin, then sits, grabs a cookie, and takes a bite as she pats your head.
Then she turns to Trash.

"Where's the other guy?" Trash says.

"He changed his mind. It's just me now." She points at herself with both hands, then rests her
elbows over the table. Soon, she's grabbing another cookie.

Trash slowly gnaws on a finger as she looks at Preah, then she just grabs the paper. You
wonder if she remembers all the questions by now.

T: What do you think the job will be?
P: Keeping Roomba away from psychopaths. I've got some practice already.
T: Why do you want to do this job?
P: It seems fun, and I want a headset.
T: What training and experience do you have?
P: I've been a fake Fake Hunter for the better part of two years now. I also used to be a
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
P: A bit more of hindsight. (you pout as you shrug)
T: What do you think is best for helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships, or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
P: Four small ships. You cover a very wide terrain like that, and less people would suffer
the wait.
T: What are you not willing to do?
P: Follow orders mindlessly.
T: Two peple need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
P: (you gently place a hand over her mouth, giving the Arma a peaceful death stare. You can
feel her cheeks puff under your hand.)

Trash turns to you. She nods.
Preah's in if she wants in. How's her GOG gas handling skills? Trash will want to know, I expect
For my edification and anon's what did Preah mean by "A bit more hindsight." Likewise what sort of thing did we think she was going to say?

Also this, if we would know already or just ask.

"You and... Pedro right? You didn't have a fight or something did you?"
Robert was her previous partner. Pedro 'raised' her.
I recall the guy she was traveling with having a different name. Not even sure if it's TQ and AaW Preha.

Or it just might be Haremhorn being confused.

Or me talking out of my arse.
Although highly unlikely.

Roomba tried hard to lift the spirits of a suicidal girl, who became deadly insecure about Roomba's dealing with the "other" girlfriends. She was warned in advance, but the girl ended up stalking the rest of the Roomba harem, going as far as beating the crap out of one of the girls. Regardless, Roomba forgave her, and thrived into trying to get some sense into her. It didn't work. In the end, Preah got the girl a better job at the second floor, and you've not heard from her since then.

As for Pedro? He's still working at the Great Lady under Cross Boss, with Bobo and Carlos. Marcos died recently due to a heart stroke, it's been hard so they named a dish after him. It's so spicy, they guarantee it'll make you cry.

You still don't know what happened with Robert!
I figure even with a perfect memory if you haven't talked about something that could have changed then you can be uncertain about it, even with a supposedly perfect memory. (Playing a robot when you have a terrible memory and imperfect spelling and grammar is hard ;_;)
Perfect memory, but maybe some of it is stored in compressed files. She has to unzip them to access them. Hence not recalling everything instantly.

And I know your pain. I feel it when I try to play very smart characters.
Maybe you should get your subroutines checked, would't want them to think you got some programming errors. You know what they to defectives...
>You know what they to defectives...
A trick for playing characters smarter than yourself: think of how much smarter they are as a multiple of your intelligence and spend that many times longer thinking about something than you normally would. Smart people can still make mistakes, they just get to conclusions faster and more accurately because they have practice.
Problem there is that I come up with terrible plans. More time thinking just refines how terrible it could be.
Pout a bit at her making fun of our kindness, it's a rare resource these days!

"Oh, before you go is there any sort of person you wouldn't want to work with?"

We'd already know of her GOG gas skills, or lack thereof right?
Yeah. You already know Preah can't use GOG gas, so she has to deal with pure physical strenght. Lately, however, she got her very own Arma Meta, which is etched all across her body; it allows Preah to use darklights in any direction, lights that instead of illuminating, obscure. Should I keep going?
Funny you should say something like that.

I usually have 2 states of mind.
1. One is: No, that plan sounds redicioulus, let's try something more complicated.

2. One is: Yeah, I'm just gonna throw that idea out thOH GOD WHY DID I DO THAT, THAT'S SO WRONG!

And, of course, given enough time, I will scrap an entire concept to replace it with something better.
No matter how much progress I made.
Besides the question about who she would clash with that should be it, so yes please continue!
May as well. I'd like to know her full abilities.

And we do need to find out who she won't work with. As Nyandemo suggests.

Yeah. Mine either start out like a terrible hamburger and rapidly become a Luther made of fail, or I keep re-examining the bad plan, and refine and purify why I think its a good plan.
Just a heads up. I'll be stepping away for the evening in about 2 hours. Normally I wouldn't mention it, but we have a small but loyal group here and I don't like to leave people in the lurch.
Don't you worry though, there is no such thing as a bad plan.

Just a plan with either more obvious consequences, more imminent consequences, or grander consequences.
No. There is most definitely Bad Plans.

Bad plans are doing things like deciding to go at night into the Wight-infested grave mound so the town watch doesn't notice you.

Bad plans are taking one landing craft onto a world with an enemy weapons factory and half way down deciding that "rush 'em head on" is the most tactically sound option. (that one wasn't mine)
You nod at Trash as well, still not taking your hand off Preah's mouth. To which you
shamelessly pout at.

"Don't make fun of being people for being kind. That's mean. Mean, you heard me?"

"Chu kind isch chu schupid!"

You gently slap her across the face trying to blow the air out of her cheeks, yet she's too sturdy.

"Before you go, is there any sort of person you wouldn't want to work with?"

"Your exes."

"Have a nice day." you deadpan.

She dances her way out of the room.


"Well" Trash yawns, "It's been a long day, but this is the last one." She leans a bit closer to
you. "This is a friend of mine, so try to be nice, ok?"

"But I'm nice!" you act surprised, Trash starts dialong on the phone... yet the door opens, and
you both turn to see.

She walks in without hesitation. A single haremhorn, wearing casual clothes, no different
from any you've ever seen except for one particular detail; this one doesn't have a
himecut. You glance at Trash, then glance again; her mouth is comically wide open.

The haremhorn sits. She grabs a cookie, studies it, then takes a small bite. Meanwhile,
you eyes switch back and forth between the two of them.

"C-Captain?" And it's the hornmother behind you that talks.

The haremhorn nibbles on the cookie, then looks up to Trash. "Stop that. You look silly."
While her voice is soft, it makes you think of the sides of a sharply folded sword. "I want a
few words with the Fake, get out."

Without uttering a single word, Trash jumps to her feet (the What shaking over her head,
yelling "WHAT?"), drags the whimpering hornmother, and soon you are alone in the room
with the one who actually ended up saving the world.

"You are Roomba, right?" she begins. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Call me Captain,
everyone does." She grabs another cookie, tears it apart, and taker her time to munch on it,
to savor it. She swallows. "I'll go straight to the point, as to not waste your time."

"It's ok, I don't mind. I got a lot of time to spare." You offer her a gentle smile. You don't
exactly know the details of her past, but everyone you've met so far spoke highly of her
at some point. And yet, she's even smaller than you...

"First of all," she asks, "why are you doing this?"
There's too much suffering in the world. And we need to help each other if we're going to survive. And Broken Horn Leader was doing good...until it went bad. I don't want all her effort to just end because of one bad thing.

Where were you and Leaderhorn when Leateli came to kill her?
"Do you remember the Greathorn's Help Hotline? There was someone who ran it by the name Brokenhorn Leader. I used to take care of her, as she was technically exiled, but was allowed to stay in return for running the hotline. She was a good person to run that center, and a dear friend. She... she died... when Leitali attacked the Greathorn. Since she was no longer around and since I technically failed my duties, I was sent away to the Second."

"I suppose guilt has caused me to take up her mantle... She always said "Kindness comes from logic", and I intend to do what she did as a way of honoring her memory."
Taking what you guys said into account:

"Kindness is all too rare for a renewable resource. I used to work with Brokenhorn in the Greathorn's Help Hotline. She was a good person, she used to say "Kindness comes from logic" but sadly she died when took it on herself to stop Laetali when she attacked the Greathorn. After that I was sent away to the Second, White having felt it was my fault for not forcing her to flee. In a way she's right... I suppose this is part honoring her memory, and partly out of my own desire to help people. The himehorns under White aren't able to run the support center for fear of being attacked, and someone has to be there to help people, right?"
"Do you remember the Greathorn's Help Hotline? Run by the Broken Horn Leader?"

"I do."

"I used to take care of her, since she was exiled and no haremhorn wanted to be near."
You smile at the memory; two months, only two months... "So I was hers. One day, Leateli
came to the Greathorn..."

"I am familiar with these events."

You nod slowly, looking at her. "White felt it was my fault for not forcing her to flee." you
close your eyes and smile. "She was right. I could have beaten her up, dragged her by the
horns to a dark corner, and face Leateli on my own. I didn't." You open your eyes. "Now, I will.
She had this motto, I hope you remember it."

Captain chuckles, slowly. "Yes, I do, I used to hate her for it."

"What I did," you resume, "wasn't logic. It wasn't kind. The himehorns under White aren't
able to run the Support Center, they are afraid of being atacked. Someone has to be there to
help people, right?"

"True." she goes for another cookie. She stares at it intently. "Funny, how I fail at being my own
haremhorn lately." she splits apart, and gets half of it into her mouth. One of her cheeks is wide as she talks. "You did not answer my question, Roomba."

"To honor her memory."

"Allow me to ask you this, instead. Why do you think she wanted to help everyone? Horns, or
no horns?"

"Where were you and Leaderhorn when Leateli came to kill he?" ...it just blurted out. You
downcast your eyes. "I apologize. It's an old wound, so..."

"Looking for Leaderhorn." Captain says.

You both stare at each other in silence. Finally, she opens a palm towards you from the table,
as she munches.
take her hand.

Unless she has something in it.
Take it and say, "Welcome aboard, Captain."
I believe that's her way of saying "Go ahead" with a mouthful of cookies.

"Why did brokenhorn want to help everyone? Because everyone has something to contribute to the world I guess? There is no point in dividing the world into "ours" and "theirs", either we learn to live together or starve all alone. Those of us that eat at least ahahaaa..."
And I have to go soon. I'll check in about 2 hours from now.

Thanks for running Haremhorn. Good night everyone.
Night! After this interview will be a good stopping point I think?
If it is just a motion for us to continue, like >>684596 surmises, then I'll continue on.

"I thought at times it was a form of addiction, or maybe a trauma she had, from before we met. She always wanted to give no-horns a chance, even when her superior told her to stop that. I never had the chance to ask her why she cared so much about others, but if I hazarded a guess, I think it was something from a long time ago..."

"Why did the broken horn Leader wanted to help everyone?" You let your eyes wander to the
roof. Silence, if not for Captain's teeth sinking into cookies, is almost absolute. You "hmm",

"Because everyone has something to contribute to the world, I guess?" You shrug. "There is no
point in dividing the world into "ours" and "theirs", either we learn to live togueter or
starve all alone." You think about that last sentence for half a second. "Those of us that
eat, at least, hahahaha..."

Captain just stares at you, the joke apparently bouncing from her and hitting you straight in the
face. Yet you are spared; the door opens slightly, and you both turn to meet a pale face
with long brown hair, leaning from the door. She looks at you, then at Captain, and it's soon
swallowed back with a whelp as the door is slammed shut. You both let that sink for a
while, then Captain takes her time to stand from the glass table.

"You conviction is laid on wet ground for now, unfit for the tower I wanted to set on it." Yet you
find her tone neither demanding or scolding. Capitan leaves a small card over the table and
slides it across, you catch it. "This shall be our little secret; that's my cellphone number.
Should you find a reason to surrender everything for, I'll be waiting." Her smile is faint,
yet sharp. "The doors I intend to open for you would do more harm than good as it stands. For
now, I want you to consider; what one wish would you ask for, if you could ask for
anything?" She turns, and without saying goodbye, grabs the handle next to her face and
opens the door.

...You just stare at her go, now in some serious darkness.


The girl sitting in front of you fiddles with her fingers, still unable to bring herself to look at

"Lumina," says Trash from across the table, startling the girl, "I can't do the interview for
you, y'know, we gotta start some day."

"...sorry." It was so faint, it's like she talks in
whispers. Haremhorns usually have a hard time raising their voice, but at least it sems they try; this is entirely different. You look quizzically at
Trash, who shrugs.

"Lumina," she deadpans, finally, "I want to talk to Moody."

You witness as Lumina's eyes brighten, and then she fumbles through her bag and takes off
a mask. You look at it intently; it's a plague doctor's mask, one of those with the long
beaks. It looks rusty, the right eye is bigger than the left.... it feels downright creepy.

And now she's wearing it.

T: What do you think the job will be?
M: Easy! Hohohohoho!
T: Moody.
M: I, err, intend to help the less fortunate!
T: Why do you want to do this job?
M: To allow the inhabitants of this realm to continue their petty existance!
T: (sighs) What do you expect of us, your employers?
M: I, er, food! And shelter for us both!

T: What do you think is bestfor helping people in need? 1 big ship, 2 medium ships, 4 small
ships, or 1 medium and 2 small ships?
M: That, er, that would do, yes!
T: What are you not willing to do?
M: Let them hurt my sister!
T: Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
M: It, um... it depends, of course, but I'm sure I'd find a way to save them both!

Trash turns to you. She winks, subtly.

"Thanks, Moody, that would be all. Take your sister and wait down below."

"Hohoho, of course!" Moody stands, then walks out of the room with long steps. As the door
closes, Trash turns to you.

"I know she must seem batshit insane to you for now, but I'd bet my balls If I had them that
she's the only one that would never betray you." You open your mouth, yet decide to give a
second thought. "Ask me, I know all about her."
Now alone, wonder to our self: "I wonder if she'd have taken me more or less seriously if I told her that I just wanted to help people..."


"How long can she spend as Moody? Is there anything that will send her back into her shy mode? This sort of job can be extremely stressful, and hard on a persons mental health... Besides that, what skills do they have?"

You nod firmly at her, letting out a firm "Hmm!". "How long can she spend as Moody?"

"She switches back and forth as she feels like. Usually, she's Lumina when she's alone."

"Is there anything that will send her back into her shy mode?"

"It's the other way around." Trash gives you a sad smile. "Most things send her into Moody
Mode, and that's not healthy. It makes her really tense. She can't help it."

You get let your cheek rest on your hand, as you think about it. "This sort of job can be
extremely stressful, and hard on a persons health... do you think she can handle it?

"I wouldn't have brought her in otherwise; as you can clearly see, that girl has been through a
fucking nightmare. It's like she's rock deep under the ocean already, it gets hard going
futher down." She sighs. "At some point, no matter how cold the water, it starts to feel
warm. Lumina is like made from ice."

"My..." you downcast your eyes as well. You wonder what could turn someone into ice... "I
do have to wonder, what skills do.... "they", have?"

"Lumina has godlike aim, she knows a lot about ships and their mechanics, she doesn't say
"WHAT" all the time, and she's extremely loyal." Trash pauses. "Some people don't have
an older brother to look after them; so they /turn/ into it. I've seen that girl burn bills of cash
even when she was starving, it's crazy and stupid, but it does speak of her mind." She
looks straigh at you. "I won't goad you into giving her a chance, but I'd settle for a fair

"She will get it." you state calmly, smiling heartily as you place a hand over Trash's
shoulder. She looks at you.

"Thanks, Toasty." she manages a faint smile. "I've been doing numbers, by the way." she
takes a notebook and opens it over the table. She was literal; there are a lot of numbers
there."The way I see it, despite the ships and all, the safest bet you have is getting six
members at first." You lean closer; the numbers actually look funny, Trash must draw a lot.
"Pick six, then we go get you a ship. You got until tomorrow. And I'm not included."

"Can you interview yourself, then?" you ask, innocently. She smiles widely, as if saying
"what?", "I need it." you pout at her.

Trash sighs. "Alrighty."

T: What do you think the job will be?
T: FIshing fucks out of the water with a fishing pole.
T: Why do you want to do this job?
T: Cuz I'm fucking bored.
T: What training and experience do you have?
T: I spent more than half my life beating the shit out of goldenhairs, templars, musclehorns,
assholes overall, and somehow I took down Fair. I'm also fairly fucking used to horns.
T: What do you expect of us, your employers?
T: To take the hard choices. Seriously, I'm burnt out.
T: What do you think of blablablablaa.
T: Get one BIG ship and hovercrafts.
T: What are you not willing to do?
T: Dishes. Seriusly Roomba, don't you dare get me into cleaning shit.
T: Two people need help. You can only help one. How do you decide?
T: Nono, YOU decide. Ok? Cool.
My thought process on the team:

Right of the bat, I would say we could drop the White Walker in favor of the Nitrolich and Wah in favor of Moody/Lumina.

Preah or the Inkling or Val; their strengths and weaknesses are pretty wide, and while the compare well, I think its a question of compatibility with the rest of the team. Their weaknesses are rather extreme.

!'%&, Deso and Maximus strike me as a good core of a team.

Harem and Muscle Horn I'm not sure about. Their ability is rather niche, but its already proven useful. Would be very useful in some circumstances and useless in others.

I must think on it more.

And with this small a group, the Large Craft with Hovercraft is better. We can't crew two ships, no reason to get two ships.

And if we need another ship, we may be able to recruit someone with one.
On a slightly less logical note here's how i'm feeling about each of them:

Trash: Trash might just be the asshole this team needs to survive. I get that she doesn't want to make the hard decisions, but I get the feeling that telling people off and generally giving jerks a dose of their own medicine won't be a problem.

Moody/Lumina: I think offering her a hug might just scare her more than comfort her. I've also seen people who thought they hit rock bottom who then promptly grab a shovel and start digging a new "bottom" for themselves. Though if she's a good mechanic and trustworthy she could be very useful, particularly with my own maintenance.

Captain: One wish huh? If I ever call it's going to be one big wish for sure!

Preah: We know her, we trust her a good bit despite the Fake hunter thing, and despite the GOG gas control issue she's far from weak. I almost think she's the most obvious pick out of the lot.

The Inked: So beyond my bias the piloting and mapping skills are pretty useful, but admittedly the communication is going to be a big issue

Vaal: Has some nifty tools, and if we ever need more dakka I'm sure she could crew an impressive amount of weaponry at once. Not so sure how well Trash and her could work together though. In terms of sheer destructive power I'm pretty sure Preah has her beat.

The trio: as a group they would make up half our picks... Trash seems to like them though.
Maximus: Big guy, probably pretty strong, but looking at the competition that's not saying a ton.
!'%&: This kinda smarmy git with a cowboy hat seems to have a natural clash with Roomba, but you also don't get away with being that unless you're good.
Deso: Cute kid, seems to still be learning the ropes? A bit shy too it seems. A bit of a wildcard in terms of role, we don't really know what she's capable of.

Musclehorn and Cyberhorn:The Fake is exactly the wrong kind of jerk, bossy and rude. We can buy a radar system I'm pretty sure if it's really that useful. If I could just get the Musclehorn I would be more interested, but as they stand they're at the bottom of the list (sorry himehorn fans!)

Bravado: HOLY CRAP YOU MEAN MY MEAT FRIENDS CAN SWAP OUT PARTS TOO MY GOODNESS THAT IS SO WONDERFUL I WONT HAVE TO WORRY AND... ahem. Bravado seems like he would be a very useful addition to our team, albeit one that might not get along with everyone. If they don't like him that much Roomba will at least keep him company and the rest will only go face to face with him when bleeding out or missing important bit like eyes or arms. If Moody knows how to fix cores they could have good synergy?

WAH-rio: Cute, potentially super useful, not likely to be insubordinate... but having a ghost ship trying to hunt us down cause we have one of it's babies is a bit of a risk. Just how do Whats reproduce anyways? Though if Trash is right and it doesn't even count as one then... Maybe.

File: WhiteWalker.jpg (6 KB, 129x200)
6 KB
White Walker: Well he's got fucking magic, and frankly I can't help but picture him as a young garter-belt from PS&G. Not too confident of his skills beyond healing though.

If I was just picking a team based on preference it'd be Bravado(medic), Inked Knight(pilot), Preah(curb stomper), Trash (ass kicker and asshole), Moody/Lumina(mechanic/sniper), and Vaal (backup and utility). Thinking about it... That actually is a pretty solid if not a bit OP of a team. We'll have some extra startup costs for Bravado patching himself up from his current sad state and Inked Knight getting a voicebox, be we can afford that right? Particularly since we're not buying a big fleet of ships (it seems the main ship and hovercrafts idea was agreed on).
Oh here is the fuck the players quest! Is Roomba dead yet?
I'm wholly in agreement on Bravado, Lumina and Trash being on the team. Trash's attitude and general experience will go a long way to solving problems.
Vaal does very little for me. Her power seems handy, but not as useful as others.
Preah is strong, and has experience win hunting rogue fakes, but I don't know how well that will translate.
I would like to know more about the Trio. The problem with them, upon consideration, is Deso. Will she pull her weight, or are the other two just so damn good that they make up for her.

The Himehorn brings some muscle with her (I assume the count as one), and has that scanner ability which will be great for Search and Rescue, dealing with invisible people and scavenging.

If the Himehorn counts as two people, then her value drops at this point.

>>685308 Haremhorn? Are they one or two slots?

I'd like to also know if we can get reliable contact info for all of them. Anyone who doesn't make this hiring round might have a place when we expand operations.

I wouldn't mind getting Robert's contact point. He has his own ship and we might be able to use him as a contact/ on call/ auxiliary.

Are we going to be on the ship, or operating out of the Second?
Nope, and she has enough measures in place that keeping her dead would involve some rather massive effort.

My reason for picking Vaal and others over the trio is that we know Trash is reasonably strong, Vaal can use her AO field to move heavy stuff, and Preah is kinda crazy strong. Plus none of them have size issues and are only a little crazy making Maximus rather outclasses as a choice. #$%&%^(&*@#!@ has the same problem White Walker did, "(a bit of) Everything" is actually a pretty terrible answer to "What are your skills?" in an interview, it implies you don't have a good idea of what you can do and that you haven't done very much of it either. If you can't think of anything relevant to mention then at best that says you don't know much about what the job needs.

I totally agree on getting contact info though, if any of them have a reliable way to get a hold of them. long distance communication doesn't seem to be much of a thing in this setting
Whereas my thought on "a bit of everything" is he's able to do most things well enough, but where he's a specialist. He'd be a good fill in for any skill gaps.
Roomba can always ask!
Let's ask Trash why she was so excited about the trio

"Hey, Trash? What's so exciting about the three you brought in? I must be missing something, to me they seemed outclassed by most of the others."
OH! Good question!

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