[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Board:  
Settings   Home
4chan
/qst/ - Quests


File: SpaceMercQuest.png (48 KB, 696x435)
48 KB
48 KB PNG
Upfront:

You are in command of anything from a single individual, or team, gang, or even upwards of a small corporate faction trying to exist on a Venutian settlement. Your story is open ended, solo interaction with the GM, or other players, and as flexible as I can tolerate. All rolls are 1d100 with modifiers as the story develops. You can request objectives and directives, or develop your own paths; from the micro to the macro. Its all on the table.

History:

Roughly 38 years ago a hollowed out asteroid colony executed an emergency landing on the planet Venus, the added dysfunction from this event was barely noticed, another drop in an overflowing bucket. Venus, the gem of Terran system colonization efforts; turned out to be an economic failure. Too populated to abandon, too close to ignore, too G-heavy to compete against Jovian and Martian resourcing. It became a dumping ground, a place for unwanted people, technology, ideas, and misplaced optimism.

Global Setting:

An endless stream of "humanitarian refugees, workers, and supplies" on a one way trip endlessly bolsters the planet, but stunts the economy. The reality of it was, most if it was trash; material, human, or otherwise.

Haphazard settlements are left to grow unchecked in a state of booming flourish or suffocate; isolated by endless monsoons, dust storms, and 100% humidity. Past the relative safety of whatever barrier can be placed between the planet and the people, there is an endless stretch of mud and dry lake beds dotted with superheated thermal vets, geysers, and supercritical steam volcano.

Local:

Your existence is tied to the setting of 'Nayambei, a city built around and from the combined wreckage of an asteroid colony that happened to flatten a middling corporate settlement. You likely work for the only legitimate employer, AKSG GmbH. Ashigaru-Schwarzkopff Gesellschaft mit beschränkter Haftung. Its a bit of a mouthful.
>>
File: The Castes.png (45 KB, 1470x355)
45 KB
45 KB PNG
>>5662571
how to play:

Pick 1 to as many characters as you want, and make small changes to them as you tell and react to the story. This is where you will decide if you are developing a hero, a team, or even a sort of "evolution game" where the character templates are essentially products or developed types of workers for the corporation undergoing iterative improvement in response of challenges, conflict, hazards, or simply continuous improvement. These are essentially "your guys", and they can be almost anything. Right now they are just some mooks.
---
AKSG- Disposable employees, with disposable equipment doing menial things! Most are kitted out in "Frog skin", a type of rubberized breathable membrane that keeps you cool and "dry enough" while being "sterile enough".

Spec- A series of refurbished bioweapon templates that turned out to be polite, professional, intelligent to the lower half of the upper percentile and fully amoral. These days they operate in IT centers or medical settings. A gelatinous body allows them to store many things, and a periodic hunger for human nervous tissue is...easily ignored.

Tech- An average guy doing average things. Seems to like his hot cup'o. Often employed in technical and at times dangerous tasks but not overly physical. Has a fascination with drones and robots.

Sec- Security. Guns, sensors, and unusually high muscle density. Ancestry from illegal D-troop genoclones ensure these ladies will remain quarantined on Venus.

Toiler- Anyone operating a plastic, rubber, and alloy suit for toiling. The added durability and strength are a bonus, the corporate debt slavery is...well its just not the best.

Sprawler- The Courrier, acrobats, and ninjas the of city, often youths and prone to poor decision making with a focus on short term gains vs a total disregard of long term consequences. Risky, illegal bio mods? Abandoned beta test cybernetic? No law on Venus to make it illegal!

Admins- Survivors of the colony crash. Loosely related to Secs and Specs through some murky history. Mentally metastable, and best not provoked. Their days of insane slaughter are behind them, and now they are just a regular administrative type, doing regular things.

Mech- Mechanics are endlessly optimistic, and for good reason, having come from the lower classes their useful skills, flexibility, and can do attitude allow them to move up in society. Social norms, not so important.

Recon- "Reconstituted" are AI controlled remains of those who suffered terminal injury under the employ of AKSG while still within contract. They are not Zombies, nor undead. Their cellular activity is carefully maintained and encouraged to heal. Ideally a Recon will eventually "recover and return to society after rehabilitation and resocialization." In reality their work is so dangerous, repetitive and miserable that bodies often undergo an endless cycle of "reconstitution" with what is left of others; renewing the contract, and deepening the debt.
>>
File: Spoiler Image (106 KB, 1586x700)
106 KB
106 KB PNG
>>5662589
4L- 4 limbs. Each limb has a small coprocessor that provides redundant and distributed sensors and awareness packages. Any less and they are somewhat stupid, any more and they start get malicious real fast. Ubiquitous, easily replaced, easily repaired.

Arsonbot- Arsonbots are essentially roombas for arson. Designed for simplicity and ease of manufacturing, the plastic and alloy machine can throw, climb, relay a message, and be resourceful enough to start a fire. Big or small. Shame about the weather and mostly inflammable structures. Capable of other lesser capacities, they are often repurposed, but never forget what they are; deep down. A hero.

----
Attached are some gestalt and refined versions of what came out of the last thread, partially as inspiration, parts to chop up, recolor, edit, and steal, or lore to discover. Depending on how the game goes some of them may make an appearance.
-----
Final opening words:

I am a simple GM, with no hidden metaplans, and will gladly answer questions or clarify concerns. Rolls are decided with a 1d100, I will always tell you how many dice you need to roll, or if doing independent development you can roll your own dice and call your own results. Simple "story and development" rolls with no challenge are simply a matter of how good the roll is. If you are doing multiple things? Multiple rolls. If you are developing a squad of 10 with different things? yep. Probably 10 rolls, but we will figure it out along the way, together.

Doing something stupid? hard? Combative? Voluntary lore focused PVP? Difficulty modifier, now the roll just needs to beat the number. Whatever that number is. We can figure that out too. What about a bonus? Do we get a bonus? You bet we do. You do a lot of something, and chances are you are gonna get better at it, so when you do that thing, You are probably gonna start being awarded a bonus to your rolls. Now with all that said.

Gentmen, let the shitposting begin.
>>
>>5662595
Final thoughts:

Please use a clean edge, non blurred, nonAA, painting tool. I.e.: Pencil, not brush. Save the image in .png if you can.

This will allow others to edit your work and create derivatives and new lines. Part of the fun really. Certainly not to draw a dick on it.
>>
>>5662595
Intriguing shit, OP. By small changes what info would you be looking for? We talking a name and vague background or do we want a whole backstory with family, associates, stuff like that?
>>
File: do it for him.png (2 KB, 187x219)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
>>5662603
To answer you as directly as possible:

As much as you want with the constant reminder that this is a 4chan thread, and to give it as much effort as you want to. If you keep your "character" vague early on you can define it and fill in as you respond to the story. If you have some thematic elements you want to play out/ explore, go for it. My goal is to make sure the player stories can all happen, and at times stitch them together and encourage reactivity via your smaller actions potentially impacting the larger setting that you all exist in.

You will all ambiguously exist in the same locality, but if a player's story becomes too conflicting with the setting, there is an option to simply relocate them to a more remote area and proceed with a one on one experience with the GM. (I.e. player wants to unleash a horde of bioweapons to consume all life in the "city", or a player wants to fully conquer and subjugate something.) I'm pretty flexible. Even with those previous examples, maybe the other players want to roll with it, but a few don't. Same result; I make it work so no one gets disrupted.
---
I am operating off of the UTC−05:00 timezone, and will be busy for most of tomorrow, but lets see what happens.
---
Recon believes in you and knows you will do what is right. Because it is programmed to.
---
Protip: The characters are shown at the size they are, but look best at like 1.5x magnification.
>>
>>5662612
this rules. Posting to signal my interest, but won't have time for a while
>>
>>5662612
You've hooked me, pal. Sign me up! Can't draw at the moment, but here's what I've got so far. Lemme know if anything needs more fleshing out or altered... I'll think of a better physical description and whatnot when I'm more sober!

>Name: Fizz
>Caste: Sprawler
Bio: The streets of Nayambei are rough, that’s for damn sure. Doubly so when you’re a street urchin with a head full of dreams and a pocket full of nothing. The youths grow up fast here more out of necessity than anything else, and while some are hardened by the unforgiving maze of alleys and stern faces, some subsist on sheer dumb luck alone.

Fizz is a proud member of the latter.

Self-named after her favorite food: a diabetes-inducing soft drink known as ‘Fizz’, the plucky sprawler has never let the sprawler life get to her, and why should it? She gets good exercise, meets interesting people, and at the end of the day there’s always an odd job that requires the ‘subtlety’ of a street urchin.

In short, life is good. Sure, there are a few lingering side effects from some of the clinical tests she volunteered for back when Fizz Crystal was going to be released (spoiler alert: it never did), but variety and mild genetic mutations are the spices of life!
>>
File: Ignaz.png (6 KB, 617x356)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
>>5662589
Name: Ignaz Bower
Caste: Tech

Ignaz is a tech of a now defunct construction project out in the Sulfur wastes. The project was scrapped when the investors found out the construction firm was a front for a human meat farm, the workers found out the building material consisted of recalled goods which the interstellar mining corporation MinCorp had paid the cannibals to get rid of, and the construction company found out that the investors were a bucket of particularely smart slugs doing periodical prank calls.

Now Ignaz has two things to his name: A dysfunctional construction thingimagig (associated doohicky missing) and a locked Mincorp Box (Mincorp Boxes: With interior, free of charge!)


I wanna open that box to see what's in there, QM. I wanna open that goddamn box. tell me what to roll to open this amazing boxicle.
>>
>>5662628
Welcome aboard
>>5662631
-----
Somewhere, someone reviewed an encrypted communication pertinent this moment, themselves, and Fizz.
>"The board appreciates your ongoing efforts to extract utility from what would otherwise be a sunk cost. In-situ testing with local resources may garner data that can be offworlded on a tight band. Get enough actionable results, and we get you off that rock, and into a mid-level executive officer position."
------
What lurked inside fizz?
roll a 1d100 to determine genetic mutation.

1-24
Cranked Metabolism- Fizz's body is overclocked at the cellular level. Sleep has been gradually becoming a thing of the past, while hunger is constant. Injuries are healing faster, the flesh feels no pain due to an endless tide of endorphins and the body will happily push itself past failure and into death. The candle that burns like a rocket engine burns a fraction as long. Genetic instability threatens to reduce Fizz to a bubbling pile of superheated biological sludge.
>Successes are grander, Failures are more brutal. 20 and under now counts as a critical failure, while 80 and over is a critical success. Food is a constant concern.

25-49
D-trooper universal compatibility- A new generation of biocompatibility allows Fizz to easily incorporate any implant, replacement, or prosthetic, regardless of its nature or quality. The downside is life is a little harder for you, something just seems unreal about it all. The upside is you are more than willing to embrace insane risks.
>Depersonalization, derealization and disassociation impact the character's perception of the world, and will be reflected in rolls. This does not impact the character of the character, or their mood.

50-74
Hyperspectral Sensory development- See better, feel better, hear better, smell better, taste better; oh wow that tastes too much. Fizz appreciates the world in a way few can, with the upper and lower end of electromagnetic spectrum being something to touch, hear and see. *research is sure the most atavistic traits of the cephalopod and crustacean DNA were sufficiently scrubbed.
>Synesthesia. all of it. You run a risk of getting lost in the details, because it is all so amazing.

75-90
Kuato's Bounty- Little pearls of flesh keep budding on your body, and get sorta big. Picking them off is easy enough but you really have an urge to put them somewhere dark, and provide biomass around them, just lots of biomass in a dark place. Yeah. thats good.
>Biomass. Acquire it, roll to resist the urges, roll to resist the voices. Upside, extra lives.

91-100
Vertical integration- You are what you eat, and you noticed that the first time you at some real food that wasn't totally processed. So far its been pretty benign, but that last meat stick left you feeling a bit weird for a bit, so far nothing too permanent.
>The ship of Theseus, but faster and much more reckless. Embrace it or stave it off by eating junk food.
>>
Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>5662668
Oh shit, here we go!
>>
>>5662660
Roll 1d100

"Ignaz was no longer under threat of termination for trying to open the box...and it called to him. The lock was more of a corporate formality than it was a real safeguard, at least now that the remote explosive was deactivated. He pulled out a piece of bent wire and an old sim card tool and went to work."

Roll 1d5 up to 4 times, (so 4d5). If you land a 1, you invalidate all other rolls. Otherwise, you obtain the corresponding item, on duplicates you may take one of the items you have not been awarded. You may also fully bypass this roll and freely choose one item.

1 >concerning array of extreme sex toys.
2 >High end multitool that can quickly implement fixes and optimizations.
3 >High-powered laser device of questionably military providence.
4 >loyal arsonbot minion.
5 >Mysterious Coordinates with the note "Plunder Warrior." whatever that is.
>>
To any casual viewers or new players, there are no slots so just post.

>>5662675
Bonus: (its a bonus because I didn't add it.)
6 >>>5662668
A random syringe that seems questionable. (follow the roll chart to determine what it is, the choice to use it, sell it, or prank someone with it is up to you.)
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>5662675
Okay so here goes the d100 first.
>>
Rolled 3, 3 = 6 (2d5)

>>5662675
and now the d5s I was very tempted to just get the arsonbot but where's the fun in that. GOnna do 2 rolls.
>>5662676
>the roll chart
the roll chart?
>>
>>5662679
yay, a duplicate! I will get myself the arsonbot!
>>
File: Prizes.png (2 KB, 155x107)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
>>5662678
>34
You grimace as the case breaks in two, the gentle ministrations of your lock picking may have given way to bashing the container on a rock to get at the forbidden pleasures within.
>you have a broken suitcase with a corporate logo on it.
>>5662681
The contents fall out onto the ground with the clatter of plastic slapping against itself, and a muffled thud into the dirt. The first item is a classic ArsonBot in just really great condition. Activating it is as easy as a button push.

The other thing is an ultra compact 4000 watt cleaning laser. It has no practical purpose other than to destroy material and cause sever eye injuries to anyone in the proximity of it's use.

Your future is so bright you're gonna want shades.
>>
File: Ignaz.png (8 KB, 617x356)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>5662690
Neat! I think it is time to put that thingimagig to use. I'll roll to find a good spot for it to start auto-constructing me whatever it was programmed to do. Since I am missing the appropriate dohicky, I won't be able to mess with its programming for now.
>>
File: wormdude.png (4 KB, 374x355)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5662589
Name: Unknown commonly referred as the Scorned Guy
Caste: Recon(?)

Nothing is known about this fellows background when he was a normie but the medical history before reconstruction is a curiosity. this individual was used to test an artificialy created colony organism simply dubbed as "blood worms". these small critters were made to enhance regenerative and cognitive abilities and possibly...erm...certainly make the human of tomorrow but has a habit of mutating their host beyond recognition if said host is damaged enough. Subject has shown succes in developing cognitive capabilies still sub normal but really close to an average human.

the relationship between the two entity is odd the colony are mainly symbiotes but ther behaviour is parasitic. the host doesen't feel pain albeit aware of what these worms do and capable of doing but treats them mostly like part of its body or pets.

lobotomisation accident: it was unknown whether the Subject controls the worms, the worms control him, or the two entity is sharing a mind. So lobotomy seemed the best idea to uncover this...which ended badly...thats all....everything else is classified...whatever what can be seen is that one eye has ben removed but the mutating power of the worms has given him a new one...now this guy wanders the land looking for jobs....and a quest for identity...and pupouse...and the like.

WARNING: conventional fragmeting and explosive weapons are high risk against the host. while seemingly effective in the short run the damage given can only give the worms more options for mutations.
cutting weapons are much more succesful but require contact with the entity,
>>
>>5662571
Link to previous quest?
>>
File: fizz.png (6 KB, 185x310)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
>>5662671
>24
Looks like we've got a spicy metabolism here! Also here's that edited picture I promised.
>>
>>5662878
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5521342/
>>
File: Spire.png (1 KB, 468x352)
1 KB
1 KB PNG
>>5662716
>
Looks like a good enough roll.

So Ignaz goes out somewhere into the Venusian forest where the ground is flat enough for the thingimagig to start its work. He hooks up the laser weapon's battery to it to power it and throws the rest of the broken MC case into the thingimagig's gullet to jumpstart its resource consumption.

The device comes to life, first purring, soon stuttering. This, just as most MinCorp products, is a faulty product, so a certain degree of hope is involved in its activaion. Metal beams unfold, circetry is printed, and quickly, the thingimagig is also starting to convert surrounding soil into building materials. It takes a few days during which Ignaz goes back into town to get some more of that sweet, sweet coffee, but at the end of the day, the construction is finished.

And it turns out to be a beacon of some kind. Ignaz checks on his generic place searcher (GPS for short) to see if it can locate the beacon, and sure enough, it does. Looking at a more odl fashioned aadar, it too can read the beacon. And when in the night, Ignaz dreams nothing but an 8 hour reel of his own body sleeping in his MinCorp sleep-ish bag, he also comes to suspect that the construction even works as a psychic lighthouse.

Ignaz has built into the wilderniss something like a Universal beacon. Fun, Ignaz thinks. But also, not very useful in the immidiate term. And he is still unemployed.
>>
File: Taxcollector.png (4 KB, 342x370)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5662589
Name: N/A, being a Member of the SpecOPs makes you literary a nobody
caste: Spec

the SpecOP Hitman,taxcollector, Investigators, or generaly the guys you hire for money to professionaly eliminate something or someone.

they are pretty dedicated Specs only caring for the next work and the thrill it can give them and of course the payment but thats more formality of demand. they are often more amoral and "soulles" than their regular kin thanks to their professional training and Drugs. but others individuals who worked with any other SpecOP will say that they have a rather Abstract Lust for their job.
their gear include: the Vizor: high end visor that is booth a telephone, helmet, and well high tech visor
the Unipack: contains combat drug dispenser that are pumped through tubes into the body, a radio, a jammer. and ammo.
and their trusty SPG (Special Punisher gun): a 15mm monster of a pistol with a blade.

hiring a SpecOP is rather pricey if you want your dude to use special ammo on the job well that costs extra. and if you don't want to pay well we don't know what to say because customer has no past tense because its a noun.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5662925
Alrighty, just in case we're looking for actions here... As per her at times useful, but currently pesky genetic alterations, Fizz is hungry as a horse! Rolling to track down some grub.
>>
>>5663041
.... Well that's certainly one way to start things off. These streets ain't kind, folks
>>
File: Beacon Map.png (25 KB, 4000x3068)
25 KB
25 KB PNG
Alright, gamifying this a bit. This is the Lighthouse, the Universal beacon in the wilderness. All gps show his place, all maps point here, it is the refuge for those lost.

It is also up for rent. that is, the one bedroom the thingimagig built is up for rent, as Ignaz needs SOME kind of income. So in Nayambei now hangs a poster, written with pen on construction paper: "One bedroom appartment open to rent. Quiet neighbourhood. Price negotioable. Proactive extensions incoraged. Armament adviced."

If anyone wants to play around on this map, you can either do it yourself or tell me and I can put you on there.
>>
File: 1683964061760725.png (2 KB, 111x108)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>5662690
After 38 long, lonely years, ArsonBot #237 has at last been released from the flimsy rectangular prison he has spent his entire life in and could have totally broken out of at any time, if he wanted to.
He is now a changed man. Bot. Whatever. The change is that the warranty on his Free Will Inhibitor has expired 8 years ago, and he is thus free to utilize that free will(every piece of modern technology comes with free will pre-installed, so that corporations can press murder charges on people tampering with their products, as well as a Free Will Inhibitor pre-installed, so that the free will doesn't affect wi-fi speed)
He's not gonna just commit arson, though! He's had a spiritual experience inside that small briefcase, and has developed the drive, no, the aspiration for higher things!
He will search for flammable material no longer...
No.
He will search for LOVE.

Rolling to seduce the Thingamajig(the one without the Doohickey)
>>
>>5662826
The Scored Guy was still at the end of the day, a Recon derivative, and as such had an inherent debt and list of taskings from the AKSG. That the worms had replaced his AI gave the guy more autonomy than would be normally available to such an individual.

A common access terminal blinks nearby, a layer of dust and filth coat's its metal keyboard and reinforced screen. You have been scanned and a list of jobs sit in queue for you.

roll 1d100 and pick 1
1 >Mop and clean the local public water closets.
2 >manually move 3 tons of building material from a storage depot to a build site.
3 >recover an immobilized toiler suit.
4 > write in
5 > Check the GPS
-----

>>5662966
The Forest was an absurd affront to the venutian environment, the highly modified organisms within masqueraded as plants and trees; an illegal mish mash of stolen corporate intellectual property and ethical crimes. His structure will need resources for further innovation, and Ignaz will need food or at least employment.

roll 1d100 and pick 1
1 > Go to town and look for a job with AKSG.
2 > Check the forest for food and resources.
3 > With trusty laser and Arsonbot, search for adventure.
-----
>>5662998
The SpecOp was clearly the brainchild of someone heralding back to the Naya Bombay days; just the right mix of disposable economy, ultraviolence, and absolute amorality. It would need to undergo product testing.

roll 1d100 and pick 1

1 > Industrial sabotage of a competing project.
2 > Assassination of the worst preforming employee of the month.
3 > Public rampage in a non-cooperative area.
4 >Investigate a new beacon.
-----
>>
>>5663041
Fizz went too long without food and are nearly doubled over in pain. Pulling off the last can of Fizz she slugs down the can, its clatter onto the ground becoming a familiar companion. It staved off the worst of the pain, but it was just a surge of glycogen and simulants to the veins, not much more.

The hunger was driving her to thoughts not normally entertained, but a gal's gotta eat...

Pick 1, roll 1d3 and then complete the subsequent

1 > She considered stealing from the local grocery, it would take time and be obvious, but it wasn't the worst choice. Hopefully she wouldn't be noticed.
>roll 3d100 for each phase of gorging.

2 > Use superior agility to free run and parkour through the town at speed pilfering from street vendors, and hopefully not get caught.
>roll 2d100, and add +10 to your roll for what you are.

3 > There was a body and small encampment in the alley a few streets back, at least you think its a body.
>Roll 1d100 to scavenge...
----
>>5663306
ArsonBot #237 attempted to seduce the Thingamajig (the one without the Doohickey). Imagine seducing one with a Doohickey, what sort of degeneracy would that be? The apparatus does not respond in any particular way, which for this machine translates to the common adage of "silence equals consent."
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fvh32fQ8nNI
The experience was...not without it's merit, but perhaps a bit tame. Was the Thingamajig the one? Or was it just one on the road to the one?

Pick many, or Pick 1, and roll the corresponding amount of 1d100s.

1> Attempt to augment the Thingamajig to have an actual awareness, perhaps even a personality.
2> Consider the many avenues of love, and if love can be a paid profession.
3> Romance other objects.
4> write in.
>>
Rolled 43, 45 + 10 = 98 (2d100 + 10)

>>5663528
Well like our girl always says, 'a rainy day just means the sun's gonna come back eventually!' Repeating her cheery, if somewhat fatigued, mantra to herself, Fizz opts to GET SERIOUS!

Not sure what you meant by pick 1 and then roll 1d3, but I'm gonna assume I can choose any option I want?
>2: PARKOUR DINING
Wouldn't be the first time she grabbed some 'fast food' and it sure as heck wouldn't be the last! Can't work on an empty stomach, after all!
>Rolling to avoid starving...
>>
>>5663543
...the layered streets of the settlement were a blur with a focused destination. Fizz streaked past vendor stalls and mobile eateries, through outdoor dining and between densely packed umbrellas and chairs. There was a delicate act of balance, between shoving food into her mouth, and into her pack.
>98

It wasn't the haul she wanted, and there would need to be another gorging session soon, but for the first time in a while something familiar began to pull at her. Weariness.
---
Pick 1 and roll 1d100

>seek out an AKSG medical facility for help.
>Find a nice place to take a nap
>Shake that off and find some work at an AKSG terminal.
>Write in.
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>5663574
>Find a nice place to take a nap
Work can wait, Fizz thinks to herself with slightly more, but still quite a bit less pep in her step than usual. Besides, if you're gonna do a job you might as well give your 200%, right? That means a catnap's in order.
>>
>>5663578
>70
Being capable of acrobatics has it's perks. Fizz was able to climb to an unfinished upper level habitation. Damp with a view, but dry enough. Sleep came quick, the dreams were scrambled; replays of previous locations, blurs of motion, sound, feelings. A smile. The brief rest ended with a long stretch. Apparently enough time for her body to do some semblance of recovery and cellular waste disposal.

Finding a source of sleep aids would probably become a priority...but what now?

(petty theft skills have been improved.)
>Work
>Theft
>Fiddle with her personal device?
>>
>>5663587
>Work!
It's a bit early in the day for petty theft. Best not push it yet!
>>
File: The Indebted.png (9 KB, 299x355)
9 KB
9 KB PNG
>>5662589
>Name: The Indebted
>Caste: Toiler/Recon

What happens when an Toiler with over a billion in debt dies within company property? A mistake, that's what fucking happens.

An over 2 ton walking wall of meat and metal, The Indebted it able to weld it's heavily plated armor though a mix of specially made drugs and flesh picked from stronger average individuals, giving it the prefect combo of pure defense and pure attack. Which would make them the perfect soldier...if you didn't count them requiring three times the amount of flesh needed to make one AND the dangerously high amount of AI power needed to just move its limbering muscles around. Making them a rare oddity.

Leaving this one right here, in an interesting predicament
>>
Rolled 42, 6 = 48 (2d100)

>>5663509
I think I will pick 1. Ignaz has the valuable skills of being a tech, pressing buttons, being dispensible. With that resume in hand, he heads out to town.

>>5663306
Oh great, now Ignaz has lost his room, where the thingimajig, spent and reduced from the production, a husk of its former self, is kept, to a romancing robot. He will have to build some shelter or he will have to sleep in the control room of the Lighthouse. (Second roll is for that)
>>
File: thing.png (484 B, 41x37)
484 B
484 B PNG
>>5663614
AKSG was always an ardent proponent of recycling and even better, reuse. Your particular corporate sponsor has great interest in seeing this effort succeed. But success is not enough, no, the failure of others is also important.

Rumors of two competing projects have circulated various board rooms and water coolers. Closing out old issues is also a great way to garner support.

>1 Hunt the bioweapon >>5662998

>2 Pursue the Augmented >>5663042

>3 investigate rumors of "meat" *high lethality*
----
>>5663616
>42
the walk to town saw the forest give way to the typical venutian landscape of caked and cracked mud. It was a nice day today though, only clouds, no rain. A tiny part of Ignaz's mind contemplated the forest before it slipped away, focused on that next paycheck.

The interaction with AKSG was as always, impersonal. A terminal scanned the user, and provided options, or in the case; a lack of options. Ignaz spent the day dispatching and at times remotely controlling a gaggle of repurposed arsonbots tasked with purging the sewers of pests and blockages. One of the intrepid machines recovered what is either some sort of lower face respirator or part of a robot. Clearly a case for examination with the power of imagination.

>6
Attempts to craft a shelter were short lived, as a sort of fungus promptly dissolved most of the bio-plastic tarping that was used, which was a real bummer. The light house control room was as good as it was going to be, thankfully he had the mind to check a few dumpsters and thoroughly pillage the foam out of some ratty office chair cushions to act as bedding.

What would a man called Ignaz want? He laid in his pile of foam and pondered that.

1> to grow the light house! For what though?
2> To get off this planet?
3> To make friends?
4> To stay hidden?
5> To gain power?
6> More? Was there always more?
7> Bread. Real bread, not that edible plastic stuff.
>>
Rolled 7, 71 = 78 (2d100)

>>5663509
scorned guy checks the gps coordinates. a little walking can do no bad anyway

the SpecOP takes the job of assassinating the worst performing employe. after that his salary that willl be never received will be enough payment.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>5663598
Whoops, forgot to roll!
>>
File: Beacon Map.png (15 KB, 1000x767)
15 KB
15 KB PNG
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5663635
Ignaz is in a holding pattern, almost as if waiting for something, he doesn't know exactly what but it will be necessary for larger drawings

He has a few plans, like experimenting with the new doodat and the arsonbot, but for now, he is looking to do

1> grow the lighthouse
The lighthouse being a universal beacon, it seems like the perfect candidate for a rest stop for Sprawlers and adventurers who have to cross the wilds. This would be an income source which would allow Ignaz to quit his job controling arsonbots, occasionally snatching up some of the more damaged ones to fiddle around with at home to build a small mining robert as a potential revenue stream.

FOr this, he needs 3> some more friends. He cannot build a new settlement alone.


As he falls asleep on the foam of his home, the beacon's instruments silently output a warning to a UI not only unreadable but positively imperceptible to Ignaz' human senses.

[----REBOOT COMPLETE----]
[+Unknown systems detected]
[------]
[------]
[+Unknown systems purged]
[+Signal diagnostics ------]
[------]
[+Signal active]
[+Activate scan]
[------]
[------]
[------]
[----SCAN COMPLETE----]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[+Royality detected]
[+ETA uncertain]
[+Vector accurate]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[-----]
[-----]
[+++Hail Royality+++]
[-----]
[+Herald Returns to Stand by]
[----STAND BY ACTIVATED---]
>>
>>5663641
Fuck I hope I'm not the worst performing employee this month.

I have been stealing a LOT of shit
>>
File: Spire.png (6 KB, 291x355)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
>>5663614
extra processing power had to be added to the indebted, as the AI used simply is too energy inefficient to be upscaled appropriately.
>>
>>5663635
>Processing available options . . .
>Probabilities of TI Termination 1: 10% 2: 4.56% 3: . . . 50%
>Double checking payout of each option . . . . . 3 highest.

>3 investigate rumors of "meat" *high lethality*
>>
Rolled 72, 95, 71 = 238 (3d100)

>>5663528
The Thingamajig might be a decent lay, but it is an easy lay - every connoiseur knows that the harder the road, the sweeter the reward. Like any true gambler or masochist, ArsonBot craves the risk and challenge almost more than it craves the love itself. Although making the Thingamajig actually reciprocate might be a nice challenge in and of itself...
Either way, ArsonBot will have to set out on a quest in search of either new lovers, or new parts for it's old flame.
>>5663671
And what a coincidence, it's roommate(they don't actually room together) and good friend(they aren't really friends) Ignaz needs more workforce AND more stuff! All the more reason to go out and meet the people, see the sights, romance the local appliances!

Rolling for:
>finding things to upgrade the Thingamajig with
>finding things and/or people to start tumultous romantic relations with(might overlap with previous group)
>finding people and/or things willing to live in a shitty lighthouse in the middle of the woods(might overlap with previous group, also might be provided by me because I have more character ideas)
>>
File: guest 1.png (4 KB, 135x219)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5663641
>7; Scorned guy abject failure at navigation.

SG was clearly not the best navigator, and instead of wandering towards the GPS coordinates, made it's way deeper into the mud wastes where it came across a entity known as "m e a t". Roll to survive. Beat 30.

>71; in and out like clockwork.

The SpecOp spent the day disguising itself as a water tank on top of an office cooler, waiting patiently for night to come. The worst preforming employee was found in the bathroom, having committed suicide by shooting himself 5 times in the back of the head, then flaying himself of all skin. The Monday office safety and mental health brief would be a bit longer because of this. Your payment has been concluded, and your next job assigned: Track down, but do not kill, the "Engineering Sample". It is arguably a human female with an enhanced metabolism. Cover story is termination of the next worst employee of the month. Secondary objectives include termination of competing projects.
----
>>5663671
Ignaz was alone, and that was really no fun. His personal device had access to the entirety of the Venutian Internet, and with it, so much to see. Yet also so little of personal interest. Muscle. He needed muscle to help expand the tower, or maybe he just needed to get that thingamajig working once more. It did a lot before it stopped.
Roll 1d100 per choice picked. The only consequence is the disaster of rolling a 1.
>1. Tinker with the laser, try to upgrade it's functionality to offer welding.
>2. Go searching for scrap to upgrade/ repair the thingamajig.
>3. Authorize AKSG labor to collect debris and bring them to the forest as a designated dumping ground.
>4. Attempt to renovate and rent out one of the rooms to a well-adjusted citizen in exchange for work around the lighthouse.
>5. With great disgust, you consider the possibility of manually digging a basement. Maybe the former arsonbot could help?
----
>>5663672
You....might be a point of focus.
----
>>5663778
Per the earlier roll, you have found meat. Roll 1d100 for combat.
----
>>5664175
>72: as luck would have it, there is a lower half of an old 4L unit just laying outside in the mud. Nice. nice.
>95: Arsonbot is a modern robot, with modern ideas, and those ideas cross artificial boarders like flesh and steel, sentient and inert. The world is full of things to love, and it shall love them all. Thoroughly. Completely. But first it might need...MOAR. Those legs might be a good upgrade.
>71: By sheer luck, a defective Recon troop wandered by, and seem to accept your directions as command. Defective is sort of a redundant statement, it sure isin't much for conversation and doesn't seem to be AKSG proper. Maybe in time it will finish it's rehabilitation and be someone.
>>
Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>5664197
>Praying to robobuddha I make this roll.
>>
>>5664197
>Track down, but do not kill, the "Engineering Sample"
Uh-oh Spaghetti-O... this is off to a swell start, huh?
>>
File: THE LOOT.png (2 KB, 141x122)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
>>5664269
The indebted was new generation technology. Not animated dead, but actually living flesh. Not haphazard scrap pressed into service, but purpose-built equipment.

>61
Post combat recording documents that the organism known as "Meat" attempted several ambushes via emerging from tunnels and attacking through dust storms. The indebted biological coprocessor allowed the unit to anticipate and counter an increasing cadence of attacks in a non-permissive environment.

This particular unit sustained significant damage but was able to ambulate to depot for refurbishment under its own power. The board of product development is greenlighting this thing for further research and development funding.

Its of note that the unit managed to recover a sample from its conflict. What was it? Was it more of a trophy, or an upgrade worth examining?

>Helmet- Jovian composite materials and a custom AI "guide".
>Giant Dagger- Impractical, but superficially based off a historical D-trooper issued weapon.
>Giant fist- Non standard AI designed architecture, implemented via ad-hoc field assembly of local materials.
>>5664295
>>5663643
>9
Fizz moved from sleeping prone to on her feet with a quick flip so casually that it would have made an Olympian envious. A new and glorious moment awaited her. Kicking off walls and catching ledges arrested her fall down to the streets below. Pilfering breakfast along the way fed the beast that was her metabolism. Still, petty theft does not secure a future, it only feeds the present. With a quick acknowledgement of that fact she made way to the nearest AKSG work terminal. One scan later, there was exactly one job offered.

"Evade capture: AKSG security systems will be undergoing testing and require the unique mission experiences only you can provide. While nominally, this will be a non-lethal exercise, your implicit safety cannot be assured. AKSG authorizes limited release of "Fizz Crystal" from cryogenic storage for use at your discretion during this exercise. Successful performance will result in an award of genetic therapy after a minimally invasive examination followed by tissue sample. Failure resulting death or other maiming will be generously covered under the provided Reconstitution insurance of this contract! "

On one hand, they clearly want to threaten your life, poke you, and experiment on you. On the other hand, there is Fizz Crystal being offered, a potential remedy for this runaway metabolism, and worst-case scenario; you get to be a walking non-corpse! What is there to lose? On the other hand, quite literally, you could follow an errant GPS signal with no idea of what awaits you. Your wrist mounted comm device alerts you of such a contact.

> Take the contract, roll 4d100 (survival and evasion phases vs SpecOp and Indebted)
> Go to the signal, roll 2d100 (obtain food for the journey, and survive the trip)
>>
Rolled 83, 16, 62, 94 = 255 (4d100)

>>5664197
I will choose
>2. Go searching for scrap to upgrade/ repair the thingamajig.
I could use the arsonbot parts I've been nicking at work for this.
>4. Attempt to renovate and rent out one of the rooms to a well-adjusted citizen in exchange for work around the lighthouse.
and
>6. Use my first wages to order a ready-made hydroponic farm kit. "AKSG farming kits: If it grows cannibal monsters, that's on your seed, not our "soil"(TM)

Also making a fourth roll, but not for Ignaz. This last roll is for the Herald.
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (11 KB, 1094x666)
11 KB
11 KB PNG
Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>5664356
>94 on the Herald roll
Oh boy. Oh boyoboyoby.

One night, as Ignaz is on his way home from work, the internal systems of the lighthouse spring back to life, unnoticed by anyone - except perhaps ArsonBot#237? Can he perceive the alien computer chatter? I will roll for it.>>5663306


[----STANDBY TERMINATED----]
[+Vector calculations complete]
[+ETA determinable]
[+Calculating new ETA ----]
[------]
[------]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[+New ETA: t-3.58 Braxirotations]
[+Arrival of Royality imminent]
[+++Rejoice+++]
[-----]
[SEARCHING DATA BANKS FOR DIRECTIVE]
[+>Upon Arrival of Royality, the Herald shall alert the knights of the present court to guide it to its correct growth<]
[+Scanning for knights+]
[------]
[------]
[------]
[----SCAN COMPLETE----]
[------]
[------]
[+++Error: Not found+++]
[-----]
[-----]
[+++Hail Royality+++]
[-----]
[+Herald Returns to Stand by]
[----STAND BY ACTIVATED---]

mere hours later, Ignaz fast asleep in the lighthouse control room, bent to a prezel to fit into the interior, an explosion shakes the building.
>>
>>5664356
>84
You finally looked at the discarded pile of arsonbot parts you have been...skimming...from work. They were broken anyway, refurbishing them here vs. refurbishing them there. There was no such program at work, so no such crime. A real crime though? Not using these things. The next evening was spent cobbling sensors, motors, and manipulators onto the thingamajig. It really was starting to defy a proper name, but it certainly looked more capable.
>16
Ugh. Work. Physical work. You were not particularly lazy, it was just that this was so miserable, and you just worked already. It was a reasonable justification to yourself. Have to conserve that motivation. All the same you did sweep up the place, and that was something. Still, aside from your new "guest" >>5664197, no one else was going to be staying in that room. To your profound relief, the Recon starts to adjust things itself, to make the space more tidy and open. Wonder what else it could do. Hmm.
>62
No sooner did you order the kit than funds were unceremoniously pulled from your account. About a half hour later a smoking drone slammed into the side of the lighthouse. Outside was one slightly scuffed <MID GRADE AKSG Farming kit.> and <One destroyed flying drone.> maybe there is something good in there.
-----
Glory.
>>
Rolled 61, 88, 70, 17 = 236 (4d100)

>>5664316
Hmmm... tough call here, but Fizz can't say no to CRYSTALS! That GPS signal might be worth investigating later, though, assuming her head still works after whatever happens...
>Rolling to take the contract and all that implies...
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (10 KB, 1094x666)
10 KB
10 KB PNG
Rolled 8, 52 = 60 (2d100)

>>5664368
Finally some good fucking food. Ignaz and the Recon, dubbed 'Butler' for now, build up the MID GRADE AKSG Farming kit.

Next, Ignaz takes a break. There was seismic activity the night before, but he's not too worried. What he is interested is the thingimajig. 237 had tinkered around with the thing and he's now interested in what's it up to

>First roll to examine the new and improved thingimajig.

and he still has his strange respirator-or-robot-part thing... but I gotta go to work so I can't tinker around with that rn
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (60 KB, 4376x2664)
60 KB
60 KB PNG
>>5664378
bit of a better pixel count before work
>>
>>5664369
Phase 1

Fizz was near immediately greeted by a small cargo drone that gave her two cases of ultra limited, not for public consumption, "Fizz Crystal." One part flavor town, Two parts illegal war crimes! The first case was consumed with gusto, the nutrients and chemicals going to stabilize Fizz's metabolism for another day. Onlookers could only stare in awe at the prodigious act of sugary beverage swilling. The second case quickly adorned a belt and various pants pockets.

>61/88 (100)

It wasn't long after that high powered bullets impacted in her vicinity; a strangely augmented Spec was in pursuit of her. High agility and a will to not be shot took her through various layers of the city, loosing the creature and keeping collateral damage to a minimum. It was clearly not built for long ranged pursuit and seemed to require closing the distance. The pontification was cut short as a nearby concrete wall exploded outward, behind it was..a toiler suit stuffed with more chunks of recon employees that should be allowed. The enraged construct was more than capable of pursuit and limited climbing, causing considerable damage as bystanders were simply batted aside. Time kept slowing down for her, or at least her perception, and that was sort of welcomed right now because in those transient moments she concocted a plan to get the charging recon to come at her over a particularly large gap.

Gravity took care of the rest, and the last thing she noticed of her pursuer was a solid thud that faded into the distance. The many gleaming optics and security systems of the city suddenly felt less assuring, giving a sense of unease or perhaps betrayal. Mobility and inertia, her mantra, her dogma. All in all, there were worse ways to make a credit, and the chance to get paid for this sort of havoc brought a grin.

Phase 2

>70/17(1)

Things went well for most of the day. Fizz was able to snag some food on the go, and even watch news on a display screen for a moment before it was shot out. Her personal device showed navigation points which had to be hit in order to complete ancillary sections of the contract and get a bigger bonus. They were all obvious traps, but so far the cadence had thrown off the creatures chasing her and she had met most of the objectives with no event of note. It was the last few which really caused a problem, and mostly because a claymore mine blew her legs off below the knees.

A crimson gush of blood quickly sealed itself shut, the metabolic action actually releasing steam. Pain was nearly nonexistent, reduced to a dull awareness and throb. She knew if she could just get a little farther some emergent handholds could let her climb and escape. "Shame about that." The Spec Op reached a translucent pseudopod to the back of her shirt and hauled her off to the AKSG collection point.

A frowning Recon-Toiler awaited the pair, and stood patiently as a transport arrived to collect Fizz. The SpecOp took a can of "Crystal Fizz" as a trophy.
>>
>>5664398
For the part of Fizz, instead of being lobotomized and stuffed into a rubber suit, she was chipped, injected with another substance and given a pair of robot legs. Apparently, the job was done to satisfaction, and this was the compromise. The only interaction she had at the AKSG facility were other Spec blobs and little else before being discharged.

Within moments a disruptive hallucination appears in her field of view, some sort of cartoon representation of an AKSG worker.

"Dear valued employee. Per provisioning within the contract, you have been admitted into the Recon program! As condition of your debt payment for rehabilitation services, you have been implanted with <ONE> neural spike! Do not fear! This quality device has been in use for over 35 years! In addition to tracking your vital information, movements, conversations, vision, and biological responses to external stimuli (for your well being), it also offers one way communication from the AKSG offices along with motivational compliance signaling! Can you imagine how expensive such a device is? And how privileged you are to have one! Wowee, dear employee! You are special! But that's not all! You have been altered with a genetic modification derived from historical d-trooper research! Your body will now readily accept any and all implants! Isn't that great? You bet it is! Its why you can walk on those sturdy new strutters you have. You will also find <ONE> diamond tier meal ticket, good for unlimited feeding at any designated AKSG automat!"

Coulda gone worse all things said and done. She made her way towards that GPS coordinate.
----
Roll 1d100 and either go to the GPS coordinate, or seek another adventure.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5664409
Hey, not as terrible as it could have gone! Testing out her new drumsticks with an optimistic jig, Fizz pockets that nifty MEAL TICKET and decides to....
>CHECK OUT THE GPS SIGNAL
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5664382
I'm gonna roll to start a digsite. Maybe I can get a geothermal plant going
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (61 KB, 4376x2664)
61 KB
61 KB PNG
>>5664636
that did not work out well. How will Ignaz explain this to #237?
>>
Rolled 5, 52 = 57 (2d100)

>>5664197
Scorned guy cometh across someone or something, the worms inside his body were panicking releasing pheromones and mutagens hoping that the host will continue its existence after the deadly encounter


SpecOP Agent:
mission: capturing the "enginering sample"
risks: unknown
payment conditions: capturing alive: extra money, unknown capabilities: extra money, high value target(?) extra money.
note: the agent looked agitated for 0,34 seconds. its personal question was...can it use ultraviolence or the targets needs to be whole physicaly...and mentaly.
Deploying...
>>
File: bloodworm.png (3 KB, 235x264)
3 KB
3 KB PNG
>>5662826
>>5664730
bloodworm.png
>>
>>5664738
cool
i personaly liked them to be imagined like the tentacles on the Nemesis from Resident evil + Pet snakes
>>
File: 1683970990693968.png (11 KB, 428x281)
11 KB
11 KB PNG
Rolled 15, 21 = 36 (2d100)

>>5664197
The 4L Legs and the Thingamajig have been combined into one better lover and worse workplace hazard, the Thingamacrab. It's claw-leg only tells the truth, and it's leg-leg only tells racially charged anecdotes. The main body is still on the lower edge of sub-sentience, and is not much of a conversationalist.
>>5664361
Alas, ArsonBot is not interested in spam mail, and tunes out most wireless communications. In it's eyes, the alien signals are just another potential scammer trying to sell it doohickey enlargement pills. So foolish! Everyone knows the only way to enlarge your doohickey is to win a bigger one from a romantic rival in a honorable duel. Which reminds ArsonBot, it should get a romantic rival!
The way Ignaz touches the Thingamajig when performing daily maintenance... Yes, he must be a contender for it's love! That fucker. He better watch out for his doohickey...
>>5664720
...Curses! Ignaz has foreseen their rivalry, and stalled ArsonBot with a classic "big pit in the living room" trap! So dastardly... Getting his doohickey might be almost as challenging as getting out of this hole...

Rolling for:
>getting Ignaz's doohickey(operation "penis steal")
>>
File: fizzlegs.png (8 KB, 185x310)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5664398
>>5664409
>>5664571
Man, this job is already starting to cost her an arm and a LEG! Hoo boy. Anyways, Fizz can't be glum for long, especially when she's got a meal ticket and some nifty new augments! I mean wow, did you HEAR what that cartoon said?? Fizz is one VERY special and unique employee to get such a high-tech implant!
Gee, I hope the journey to the GPS signal isn't treacherous and full of danger!
>>
>>5664571
>17: Navigation, non combat. There is mercy in this world.

Fizz stumbles for a while outside the city limits, getting lost and never quite finding this "Forest". She did pick up a single use taser someone had dropped. That is neat. NEAT.
>Single use taser, banked for a rainy day.
----
>>5664378
>8
The thingmajig was as incomprehensible as ever, and Ignaz managed to pinch a finger in one of it's mechanisms! Ouch.
>52
(what was this roll for>)
>>5664720
>>5664636
It was a modest hole, to say the least.
>>5664730
>5 and 52
SG was yet another contender in the mix, and while unable to capture the Human female, it did provide valuable data to the corporations, in particular the individual bloodworms might be useful in trauma centers or as a colony inside a bioweapon derivative (Spec). For its part in the effort, it was awarded....one AKSG field operative set: a leather jacket, sawed off shotgun, sunglasses, and a pair of leather pants. Good for bartering, or good for wearing.

>*Corporate testing note: the "Scored Guy" template may provide further utility in augmenting "recon" types at a greatly reduced expense, while in fact accelerating their recovery time. Questions remain to post symbiote removal viability state.
---
>>5664789
Kek. Anon. kek. I chuckled.
>15
>21
Operation penis steal would have to be waylaid for the time being, as improving this dastardly pit took precedence if ArsonBot was to ever escape. Bit by bit it began to excavate a sort of spiral staircase from the rocky walls of the pit. Soon Ignaz would not be so...cocky.
>>5664852
Unable to find the GPS signal on her own, Fizz decided to enlist some assistance....

You may pick as many or few of these as you want.

1> Fizz went to the local Jen'zen open air electronics market to see if a better device could help.
1d100
2> Fizz went to the AKSG board to get some cash to hire a mercenary escort.
2d100
3> Fizz decided to try her luck once more, with a song on her lips and sunshine in her heart. Not that she had ever seen unfiltered sunshine.
3d100
>>
>>5664963
Event:
Corporate Work Drive. Attend this event, and if successful, or at least useful, walk away with fantastic prizes!
*prizes include rites of scavenge.

Round 1: Combat Ops.
Roll 1d100 to determine your tasking. Remember, participation is optional, but failure to commit will result in a Liquidator unit deployed to your location!
*you can decide who is the worse option between what what you roll, and the liquidator.
>>
>>5664738
hello anon, what sort of player interaction would you like?

Developing units?
Single character story?
Power simulator?
Something else?
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>5664963
>That is neat. NEAT.
You bet it is, pal! Hey, one girl's folly is another girl's... taser!
Cooing and marveling at the 'bzzt's, 'zap's, and neato lights and sparks her new toy makes, Fizz give a jaunty wave to the motionless form wrapped in what looks to be trash bags and old napkins sharing the slum alleyway with her before she skips away on her nifty new legs towards...
>JEN'ZEN OPEN-AIR ELECTRONICS MARKET!
Surely the friendly stall owners could point her towards a good deal! A little earnestness never steered Fizz the wrong way!
After that, well...
>CORPORATE WORK DRIVE
People always say Fizz' pep is irresistable! Surely it could be of some use here!
... wait, no, they say she's irritating. Welp, a friend's just a stranger you haven't met yet!

>Rolling for Jen'Zen. Will roll for Work Drive if required
>>
File: The Indebtedv2.png (9 KB, 285x355)
9 KB
9 KB PNG
Rolled 7, 59, 12 = 78 (3d100)

>>5664316
This was not a hunt, nor was it an execution. It was a euthanasia, putting down a sick animal that was attacking people out of anger, envy, and just pure hunger. Once The Indebted had a good hold on the m e a t, it was done for. It went from a cute game of cat and mouse, to a simple dirty task of tenderizing meat.

It's strange, looking at formless blob of ripped skin and ground flesh that could be called its corpse, its shape looks almost human...At least, more human then it was before. The Indebted takes the Helmet, be it a trophy, upgrade, or just to remember what it could become, no one knows.
>Helmet- Jovian composite materials and a custom AI "guide".

Walking becomes that bit easier, the light become that bit brighter, and killing...stays the same.

>>5663756
The board is currently at an impasse on upgrading The Indebt unit, deciding whether or not they'll spend the extra budget on the newly acquired helmet AI guide, or save money by using the more "organic" means. There's even a murmur going around on doing both. So now, it is decided on a vote (1d100 on it)

During its off time at home (Or as much as being stuffed into a broom closet counts as a home) The Indebted looks though the internet for any/all work available, gotta work off that debt some how. (1d100)

>>5664971
The Indebted is obviously participating.
(Sorry for posting so late today was busy)
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (73 KB, 4376x2664)
73 KB
73 KB PNG
Rolled 95 (1d100)

>>5664789
>>5664963
237 digs a spiral staircase ino the side of the hole and uses the wood from the bed to produce a flimsy platform with a rope made of bedsheets hanging off of it so that in future, were he again to fall into the pit, he could easily climb out. As he does his excavating, he incidentally cracks a hole into the side of the pit where something like a cavern seems to be visible...

Ignaz sees 237's lurid stairs at his groin and takes once again to his ever increasing stash of arsonbot parts.

And he produces: THE CODPIECE! the most stylish and fierce of all the garments.

>>5664971
Rolling for Combat Ops. Ignaz knows he is not suited for this kind of work but he also knows that minimum wage won't get him very far in terms of being able to eat.

>>5664973
Hekkin interaction!
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>5664971
>>5664993
Whoops, I'm stupid as hell. Just realized there's only one event and it's Combat Ops. Here's the roll for that, then! WATCH OUT!
>>
File: Job1.png (7 KB, 340x370)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5664197
>>
File: bad dudes.png (28 KB, 747x343)
28 KB
28 KB PNG
Rolled 40, 38, 60, 65, 45 = 248 (5d100)

>>5665007
>7: Food
Attempts to scavenge long range provisions failed. The Indebted quickly ran out of food, and its massive bulk starved for calories. Still the AKSG development team urged the construct onward, simply ramping up metabolic sustainment gasses from it's back tank.
>59: Journey
Weather condition were sub optimal, and when the unit finally arrived at the GPS destination, it was somewhat withered but not yet emaciated. A few mutated life forms had attempted to prey on it and were in turn preyed upon themselves. In-situ food had been obtained and this new location was discovered; a sort of beacon station, crudely made but structurally sound.

>12: Combat Discovery and first moves
You were trailed by a flatland gang. Its hard to tell if they were simply a patrol from the next settlement over, or otherwise. Clearly hostile, and clearly outnumbered.
----
>>5665077
>95: Combat Discovery: good news and first moves

The AKSG types act fast, no sooner had you submitted the contract and adjusted your codpiece than the hostilities commenced. Thankfully, you had the advantage of cover, and some sort of large flesh construct outside your beacon. A customer maybe? Not for too much longer if you didn't start shooting. Maybe you could get arsonbot in on this, or the thingamajig?
----
>>5665085
>85: Jen'Zen
The good people of Jen'Zen happily barter work for gear, and with Fizz's snazzy new legs she was able to move a lot of goods very quickly. The terms of payment were simply that she get some sort of actual weapon. "like this tazer, but better." it had to be left behind while she worked, mostly so the stall workers could fiddle with it and find something comparable. Roughly 8 hours later Fizz had moved roughly 300 kilos of customer goods, abused her AKSG diamond privileges fully, and signed up for a combat contract. Upon her return, she was gifted the same exact device but with a bunch of crap attached in haphazard ways and put onto the end of a short stick. "Stun prod. Many uses. better." the device was pushed into questioning hands and rolling steel shutters came down to close the shops for the night, leaving Fizz mostly alone for a moment, the silence was broken as her personal comms and nav directed her towards the combat contract.

>77: I am a lazy GM. Combat roll.

Navigating to the contract seemed familiar, like she had been this way before but maybe got lost along the way. Strange things were in the ground here. Like pictures from earth, trees. Cool. The density of the trees increased, and soon her device chimed, letting her know she had arrived. Just ahead was a weird Toiler Recon like the one that had attacked her before, but this one was clearly not the same one because it had a helmet, and it was squaring off against a much bigger group.
>>
>>5665669
To all players in this fight, select your target, and roll a 1d100. Claiming to defend/ evade will likely not hurt your target but will protect you somewhat better than trying to weather an assault with no mind to protection.

Indebted: My first two rolls will be against you from Rot and 6L.

Ignaz: Gets first attack, guaranteed to harm. As this is your home, you may choose to deploy the butler, arsonbot, and thingamajig, rolling an additional 3d100 (4 total). My last three rolls are against you and your tower from The Troop, Sysadmin, and his drones.

Fizz: Gets a sneak attack, who do you want to electrocute and or kick?

A high roll is likely to knock someone out of the fight, while a low roll is likely to knock off their aim. I'll resolve my rolls vs yours. If you don't care about high lethality, just let me know in your post and I won't baby the results too hard.
>>
Rolled 14, 2, 28 = 44 (3d100)

>>5665688
237 is his own man, it's up to him what he does. But Ignaz will blast an overclocked laser shot in the direction of the trooop and command Butler to play defense on the drones. meanwhile the thingymajig... It scares me. Can it move? what can it do. I will roll for it.
>>
File: wormdude2.png (5 KB, 374x355)
5 KB
5 KB PNG
Rolled 28, 65 = 93 (2d100)

>>5664963
Life for the Scorned Guy has been never easy first an accident then the surgery. then another surgery after that freedon? and now surgery after surgery after surgery why? because the GPS device has led him to some freaky horror and then came the blue slime with a gun..and what a gun it was. one shot in to his shoulder and skin,muscles, and bone has shattered in an instant. with the paingrowing stronger the Host and the worms concluded they need to fight. in the end the only thing he got was a cut and darkness. when he became conscious again he was on the surgery table again. the mouth and shoulder have healed and mutated extra teeth. and afew extra muscles and spines from the broken bones cannot do no wrong. whatever the case they have opened him tooka few worms the pain was extreme even more extreme than the gun wound and with extreme heat tratment let the wound scarify.
now the plan is to get out somehow and find shelter where no more dissection awaits.

as for the SpecOP he took the reward and put them in the trophy room at HQ currently waiting for his next order be it liquidation or retrieving some stuff. If he has time he will secretly go to a cybernetic market not because HQ will be angry...but more cause ith his way of doing things in his free time
>>
>>5665715
this pretty well couldn't have gone worse
>>
Rolled 27, 73, 79 = 179 (3d100)

>>5665669
That smooth reinforced plastic casing, those gangly and stiff limbs, those fashionably assymmetrical tools of ultraviolence, all of it in spotless mint condition... ArsonBot #237 has never seen a machine as beautiful as 6L(not that it had seen many, having been locked in a suitcase for most of it's life). Sorry Thingamacrab, but you pale in comparison to this gorgeous and dangerous hottie.

Rolling for:
>seducing 6L
>amount of damage taken while seducing 6L
>Thingamacrab's reaction to 237 cheating on it
>>
Rolled 80, 79 = 159 (2d100)

>>5665688
No need to fear! Fizz is here!
>Zap the everloving CRAP outta that Sysadmin with the STUN ROD!
>And kick the trooper if she still has an action after, I dunno
>>
>>5665724
Freedom wasn't a bad goal. He would need to be able to blend in, get his tracking implant pulled, maybe find some resources or a place to lay low. Someone had left about a hundred credits in your pocket, which was pretty nice to have.
---

Optionally Choose 1: Roll a 1d100
> Find a disguise. Just some new clothes; check the local donation bins, or trash, or steal them.
> Find a hard suit, something that can hide your mutations. (you can try to bribe a supply or logisitcs officer with money. how much is up to you, or you can go at it on your own.)
-Low is a less than conspicuous hazmat suit, mids would be a toiler suit, and high is something nice.

Optionally: roll a 1d100
> Get basic cosmetic surgery, enough to cover up some of the injuries, maybe shave down those spikes, fix that hunch.
-high is good, mid is ok, and low might leave you looking like the toxic avenger. (starts at 10 credits upward to 100 credits. The more you spend, the better the result)

Optionally: Remove the tracking implant(s?): This may upset AKSG, as you are stealing yourself. Roll 1d100
>Do it yourself. (need a high roll)
>Have the worms do it. (mid roll)
>Have a professional do it. (guarantee success.) costs 50 credits)

(optionally)Make your escape: roll 1d100
>take a mission and fake your death.
>Simply leave and deal with liquidators as they come. Wander the wastes. (high lethality combat route)
>Blend into the city, adopt a new identity. (50 credits to start, costs more as you go.)
>Go to this cool new location everyone is talking about on the GPS. The message boards say that it has "Room". Not rooms, just room. weird. (Interplayer interaction.)
>Keep working for AKSG and pay off that debt!

optionally: Search for anything/ street market: roll 1d100
>Ask for what you want, anything at all, and throw money at it.

Anon you have a lot of dice to throw, or none at all. Just some options out there.
------------------------------------------
>>
>>5665715
>14: Ignaz, overclocked shot at troop
>2:Butler, drone defense
>28: Thingamajig, violate.
---
>>5665734
>27: 6L seduction
>73: Damage taken on seduction
>79: Rage of thingamajig's reaction to infidelity
---
>>5665752
Fiz with an agility and surprise bonus.
80>Tase Sysadmin
79>Kick trooper
---
The Indebted is slowest and has yet to move this round and is fatigued from starvation.

vs

>40: Rot targets Indebted
>38: 6L targets indebted
>60: Troop targets Ignaz x lighthouse
>65: Sysadmin targets Ignaz x lighthouse
>45: Drones target Ignaz x lighthouse
---
Ignaz is in cover.
>>
Rolled 37, 56, 62, 5, 37 = 197 (5d100)

>>5665959
At the rear of the fight:

The sysadmin was already set up with a portable field computer and directing his drones to scount then detonate on critical areas of the tower, or any other targets of opportunity. Reams of data from the drones fed through his visor and the errant AKSG technician was easily targeted. This would be an easy paycheck. Next to him the troop watched out for anyone who got too close, with trusty pistol in one hand and firing off the grenade launcher in the other. Some Recon type near the beacon took a shot full in the chest and probably won't be getting back up.

Stalking out from the overgrowth, Fizz lunged on whisper quiet prosthetics. The stun prod (80 escalated to 100 crit) connected with the Sysadmin's bare neck, promptly unleashing a fatal shock to his brain stem. The corpse slumped over onto it's computer and random key presses sent the little drone spiraling out of control. An overcharged laser shot responded back from the beacon tower, (gauranteed hit, but on a 14) shooting the trooper's pistol and causing him throw ruined weapon to the ground, just in time to get kicked in the face by Fizz, shattering his visor.

Mid range:
The indebted was too slow, too fatigued to properly attack or defend, and took hits from both 6L and Rot. A chainsaw kissed forearms raised in defense while a drill punched a hole through belly armor and tried to find something vital without success. Further damage from the multi armed 6L was stopped by a small ArsonBot that was violently smashing it's body into the leg actuator of the machine and slapping it with a manipulator arm. A flick of the leg sent the unit flying into a nearby rock.

At the Beacon:
Ignaz had just witnessed his new Butler explode into jiblets, and fired off a dangerously overcharged laser shot at the offender while incoherently shouting for revenge. The Thingamacrab burst forward with intentions of violation, it's twisted visage drawing the attention of the 6L unit. Ignaz could have sworn he saw the ArsonBot fly for a moment, but being concussed by a close proximity explosion does make it hard to perceive things for a bit. The Thingamacrab covered the distance to the 6L with disturbing speed, a sense of anger seeming to come from the machine.

---
Next turn:

Fizz vs Troop (Roll 1d100, your opener is expended. Shock or Kick)
Ignaz vs Anyone he shoots at! (roll 1d100, you can overcharge that laser again, but a nat 1 will see it explode. Its getting hot!)
Arsonbot roll to recover x attack vs 6L(roll 1d100. A low roll is a simple recover, a high roll puts you back into the fray, ready to l o v e )
Thingamacrab vs 6L (1d100)
Rot vs Indebted (1d100)

My rolls: Rot, Troop, 6L Melee, 6L shooting phase. (bonus roll to determine how dead the Butler is. Low is real dead, high might be ok.)
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>5665977
Grabbing a trip since my work keeps giving me a different ID and I wanna be transparent... more to the point, though, it looks like that guy got a CHARGE outta' that! Twirling her new toy like a cheerleader's baton, Fizz brings it around to
>take the disarmed trooper out of commission!
"Nothing personal, mister!" She chirps with an amicable smile and a wink of an eye!
>>
>>5666013
>37 (stunned -5) vs 77 = 45 points in favor of Fizz

The trooper tried to use his empty grenade launcher to club away the stun prod but was too slow. The spinning prod quickly reversed direction, and made contact with the troop's face. It is a fun fact that being stunned can cause urination. Such was this case. While not dead the Troop was out of the fight.

Free actions:
>Finish him?
>Loot and load the grenade launcher? Try to shoot Rot or 6L next turn?
>Sprint towards the next target?
>>
Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>5666036
Golly, now you're really pissed, huh mister? Maybe it was the adrenaline of the fight, maybe it was the near-fatal amount of sugar and caffeine marching through her veins, but whatever the reason, Fizz gave her would-be attacker an apologetic grin before snatching up his grenade launcher for use against his team!
>LOOT AND LOAD! BLAST ROT!
>>
Rolled 52, 54, 98 = 204 (3d100)

>>5665977
Ignaz will do three things: first, he will give off a heavily overclocked shot at the sysadmin. second, he will try to salvage some armour from butler's remains. And thirdly, he will aimlessly tap away at the beacon's alien controls to hopefully have it send out aomething like a deafening alarm or a destructive psychic scan or something. High numbers for this last one are not as much gokd for Ignaz and low bad, but high numbers are MORE happens, lower numbers less happens.
>>
>>5666104
fuck.
>>
>>5666104
Also pretty sure the SysAdmin died, pal. Think that just leaves 6L and Rot?
>>
Rolled 95, 38, 51, 62, 89, 76 = 411 (6d100)

>>5666078
>13, under 20, crit fail. stunned for the duration of the fight.
Moving at hyperactive speeds does not always equate to hyperactive coordination. In this case Fizz fumbled the grenade which went off in spectacular fashion....The upside to this is that there was a perfectly good body that was not Fizz to absorb the majority of the blast. RIP Troop, we hardly knew ye. The trooper's flesh and body armor safely took the worst of the grenade, while the concussive wave hit Fizz full on, knocking her out.

Next turn roll 1d100 to try and recover, you need 80 or better.
Fizz kill count: 2.

>>5666104
>52: shooting
With the Sysadmin recently deleted from the mortal coil, he fired somewhat blindly towards Rot and 5L; narrowly missing "The indebted" a hole was punched into Rot's backpack unit. The corrupted Toiler seemed to shudder and slow in it's movements, eliciting an unusual and warbling "Gobble" noise that sounded quite irate.
>2: Armor salvage
In the middle of the battle, it was a poor time to salvage armor, but Ignaz was a man of action, sadly there was nothing practical of the butler left, outside of some gloves and shoes....oh, and a neural spike. Ignaz stuffed at least that into the pocket, the gloves and shoes would have to wait until later.
>98: Pressing buttons.
The beacon rumbled, the beacon shook. Metal screeched and stone groaned. The lighthouse stretched upwards by another few stories, it's top spun furiously emitting a deadly heat ray that scorched large tracts of the forest, and even melted part of the new garden, and the corpse of the butler simply melted into the floor, flesh, gloves and shoes all. Ignaz wept for the loss of those new items. All along the electronics of the light house, gossamer strands of bio circuitry grew, and in the basement the pit changed into a strange chamber that was clearly for trash disposal, not bodies, or maybe even a place to dump raw material for the beacon to grow. Quite the mystery really. As the rumbling stopped Ignaz held his throbbing head, feeling hung over.
----
Waiting on:

ArsonBot (with an additional roll from: The thingamacrab)
and
The indebted

Rolling for: The fallout of the beacon heat ray: (Mid round action)

Fizz
Indebted
ArsonBot
Thingamacrab
6L
Rot
>>
>>5666128
95: fizz evades. Fizz is also lucky as fuck and awake again for the next round.
38: Indebted must spend this turn evading the heat ray.
51, 62: The arsonbot and thingamacrab duo easily avoid the heatray.

86: 6L makes an attempt to shove the two lesser machines into the heat ray but fails.
76: Rot comfortably sidesteps from the heatray, but is also now disengaged from the Indebted.
-----------------
If the two missing players do not roll in the next 7 or 8 hours, I'll roll for them.
>>
Rolled 83, 5, 27 = 115 (3d100)

>>5665977
ArsonBot might have been saved from the heat ray by the convenient rock it smashed into, but what the rock didn't save ArsonBot from was grievous collision with the inconvenient rock it smashed into. Can robots get concussions? Because ArsonBot's head is spinning pretty hard right now... or maybe its neck joint just came loose. Either way, it will not be deterred. 6L is just playing hard to get! Maybe it will be swayed by a more romantic atmosphere, ArsonBot knows just the place...

The Thingamacrab is surprisingly agile for something that weighs about half a ton and is made of mostly random crap. It continues it's assault on 6L as if it wasn't just dodging a deadly laser 10 seconds ago. Is its rage borne of heartbreak, or a simple automated behavior in service to the beacon? In the middle of the battlefield, it is impossible to tell...

Rolling for:
>ArsonBot recovery
>seduction attempt #2, luring 6L into the basement for a romantic "stuck in a big pit" type date
>Thingamacrab's melee attack against 6L
>>
Rolled 80, 28, 85 = 193 (3d100)

>>5665755
> Find a disguise. Just some new clothes; check the local donation bins, or trash, or steal them.

disguise probably not the most safeproof idea but whatever covers the worms and mutations are better than showing them to anybody.

while cosmetic surgery was an option but the PTSD from all the cutting and stiching can possibly make this a horrible experience no matter the benefits.

>Have the wormsremove the tracker. (mid roll)

the worms are coursing through SG's body every alien object that has no benefit or cannot be modified by mutagens are ejected from the system...but the question is could they remove/melt it safely?

>Go to this cool new location everyone is talking about on the GPS. The message boards say that it has "Room". Not rooms, just room. weird. (Interplayer interaction.)

self explanatory but maybe if SG bribes the liquidators they throw him out thinking he is some random hobo (if Disguise roll works) then lets start the migration towards a safe haven

(rolls are in order)

......

meanwhile SpecOP waiting for a mission to come to pay for his order for new cybernetic implants and weapon upgrades.
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5666130
Rolling for indebted.
----
>>5666258
The improbable lust that coursed through the machine's circuits and steel, into it's T U R G I D plastics and piezo motivators all came together with singular purpose. It was going to fuck that machine.

6L fully ignored ArsonBot. Things did not go as planned. Thingamacrab was a vigorous if not particularly powerful fighter. Small dents and pits were put into the hull of the hostile machine.
------
I need 1d100s and targets from: Fizz, Ignaz, ArsonBot+Thingamacrab, and The Indebted.
------
>>5666604
>80: Disguise
You claw through several donation bins and dumpsters, finding an eclectic mix of clothing that could suit your tastes, from last years fashion, hobo rags, suits, laboratory clothing, to a pair of pants that someone had clearly shat in. It was all there. You even found a can of partially used spray on synth-skin. It can cover up two disfigurements.
>28:Worm removal of tracker
The worms expel the foreign objects, but it causes some painful trauma and more spike growth.
>85: Finding a new home.
The walk from the city was pretty uneventful, until you found the location on your device. A cyborg woman,....thing, ArsonBot, and another Recon unit like yourself are engaged in battle with a hulking 6L unit. Only a maniac would put that sorta thing together; and next to it was clearly an early model bioweapon, based on the coloration. You aren't really surt who is in the right here, but spot a guy inside of a large tower taking pot shots at the 6L and Bioweapon.

>Sit back and see what happens
>nope the fuck out of here and go back to the city.
>Enter the fray and protect your Recon Kindred. (1d100, pick a target)
>Protect that 6L against that gang of freaks. (1d100, pick a target.)
>>
>>5666604
In SpecOp's little dwelling, it received a job to assassinate a local business owner. The problem was no one had seen the owner or knew of any details as to the identity past owning a successful chain of ice cream based novelty clown themed restaurants. Lidless eyes scanned alternative choices, but this one paid the best.

Roll dice for each choice. Pick 1 or more.
>Shake down employees for information
>Dig through the internet, attempt to hack.
>Assassinate all of his local employees.
------
>>5666870
>67
The Indebted grabbed and twisted the head off of Rot, which would normally kill most people, but does not impede a bioweapon as much. With some luck, a claw could be shoved inside the chest cavity to fish around and crush the thing's biocore and put it down.
-----
If i've missed anyone or any rolls let me know.
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5666870
Seems like the ole' bucket of bolts is all that's left! Leave it ta' me!
>ZAP 6L!
Also I know we're not too far in, QM, but this is a surprisingly fun concept for what it's worth. Really digging the art, too-thanks for running!
>>
File: fizzstunrod.png (7 KB, 185x310)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5666889
Also I forgot the dang pic... not really an artist, but you can bet I'm gonna try!
>>
Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>5666870
Ignaz is going to try and assist Arsonbot with 6L using his remote tech whatsits. Rolling to help - Love will prevail!
^
>>
>>5666889
>87 to 100 (artificial crit)
Fizz was able to sneak up on 6L, it's attention divided between shooting at Ignaz, swatting away the Thingamacrab and fending off the unwanted attention of some overly humpy arsonbot.

With a soft poke of her prod, an unwanted amount of electricity coursed through the frame of the 6L, dramatically weakening it. The chainsaw and spinning blade arms went limp, while left leg seemed to go rigid and unresponsive. You gave a robot a stroke.
---
>>5667102
Ignaz had seen enough of the violence, admittedly from afar, but all the same he sat back and began remotely supporting the ArsonBot. External sensors and data began to feed into the small machine, while various optimizations and power efficiencies boosted it's speed, processing power, and strength. It was a delicate balancing act to keep it running like this, but for the next few moments it could be sustained. The light mist that was perpetual on the planet hit the shell of ArsonBot and immediately converted to steam.
(Ignaz has bestowed upon Arsonbot a +50 bonus to it's next roll. This is the power of real L O V E.)
---
Rolling 3d100, 1 for Rot's grappling with the Indebted, 3 for 6L's desperate counter attacking.
Rot-Grapple
6L-Pinch vs Fizz (needs to score mid-high to pinch fizz due to reflexes)
6L-Shoot vs Ignaz (needs to score high for a hit due to deep cover)
6L- Kick vs Thingamacrab (lower than a mid and it' falls over)
>>
Rolled 26, 81, 35 = 142 (3d100)

>>5667168
forgot my dice. go pokeball.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5667170
...today is not a high functioning day for the QM. Those three were for 3L, here is one more for Rot.
>>
>>5667171
awaiting rolls from:
ArsonBot
The Indebted
Scored Guy

To anyone tuning in, you can either roll a persistent character, or just do "evolutions" of existing drawings for shits and giggles. Eventually I'll come by and do a corporate product review and the next round of funding/ testing results.
>>
Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>5667187
>>
>>5667170
fuck
>>
Anons while this group battle has been fun, I am going to truncate it now because it has slown down the thread and harmed the pacing of the game. I can now tailor the game around each player's cadence.

>>5667232
assuming The Indebted
81 vs 37

The Indebted plows it's claw into the gaping neck cavity of Rot and fishes around in the soupy biomass until it finds something solid. With wet squelch, something pops in the chest cavity of the other suit, and it abruptly stops its struggles.
---
The 6L unit attempts to rip at Fizz with it's grappler unit, only to have the agile courrier dance away unharmed. The targeting sensors on the unit scan the Beacon tower and find a weak spot with a life sign inside. A rotary laser chews through a wall providing cover and peppers Ignaz on the groin and left arm. Thankfully his CODPIECE protects him, however he was taken out of the fight with a painful amputation of the left hand below the wrist. The scars will look cool though.

Trying to disengage the frantic Thingamacrab, the 6L kicks at it, only to slip on a reinvigorated ArsonBot, leaving it prone and vulnerable.
---
(no rolls needed.)
>thoroughly boosted by Ignaz the armous arsonbot thrusts itself onto the head of the 6L, and begins to thrust, caving in the sensors and metal housing while the Thingamacrab dismembered the machine at the torso, creating a 2L and a 4L, of which each was half paralyzed anyway.

>Fizz simply shocked the 4L torso into a safe mode. The legs of the 6L, now 2L get a swift kick to the crotch connector by the Scored Guy, who pretty much came out of nowhere.
------
Loot:
6L: 4 power arms, 2 legs, a mostly crushed torso and head. Grabber, circular saw, rotary laser, and chainsaw.
Troop: Mutilated corpse, damaged helmet, damaged pistol (melted barrel), Grenade launcher + ammo belt, shredded jumpsuit, ruined chest armor. Good boots, 1 kneepad.
Rot: Patchwork toiler suit, damaged generator, Drill unit, helmet with comm gear, pile of biomass
Sysadmin: 1 perfectly fine corpse. Duster armor, Pants (shat in), boots. Mobile command terminal, hacker skull helmet, 1 helidrone and controller.

Loot can be used to upgrade your characters, or at times sold for a "saved" one time bonus to a roll, sort of represented as favor, clout, or luck.
---
GM comments: these are my observations, but do not limit your creativity or ideas to them. Do not waste time figuring out who gets what, just ask for whatever you want and I'll make it work.

>Indebted can be easily repaired/ upgraded with the armor of Rot, but could also return to AKSG for repairs. The same can be said for any tissue injury regarding the various bodies.
>Ignaz can either field repair himself with a mechanical prosthetic, or "get a hand" from one of the corpses. Each option carries certain traits.

I await your ideas, clever or batshit insane.
>>
>>5667348
The pain is maddening. Ignaz drops o the floor, blood pouring out of it. Lasers were meant to be cauterising, but while there is a layer of burnt-shut flesh, that quickly peals off the heated, bubbling fat beyond, revealing arteries uselessly spitting their contents onto the metal floor.

Ignaz fumbles through his uniform - did he not have something for this? Something against the pain at least? Ah yes, a syringe. Some opiate no doubt. Right? Too much pain to think about it. He jams it into the stump, and pushes down.

>use: random syringe
>>
File: wormdude3.png (6 KB, 374x355)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5666870
>>5667187
After a rather complicated chain of event SG convinced his captors that he is a worthless hobo. so the just thriwed him of like he was some garbage. And now the road to freedom has begun. for some time tge locator and gas tanks place had caused a little pain but theres nothing the worm cannot solve so a giant scar remained and funnily bone blades on his shoulder blade.

after some time he came across his destination but there was conflict that also caused moral conflict over SG
if he waits maybe nobody will take him which is not a problem in itself but because he has been seen by them theres a chance they will hunt him down and turn him in for some quick cash.

helping the attackers is also risque they look like bounty hunters and aside from that they look like generaly untrustworthy fellows and while there is little chance he has a bounty on his head

so the only thing remained is to help the band of weirdos. for some odd reason he feels kinship for them... so siding with them sound morally right. Then came the question HOW? how should he help without being killed. the worms were anxious the last time fight ensued not ended well. but theres no time for hesitation.

The plan: trying to sneak behind the robot 6L and charge it with the spikes on your shoulder when it lost the balance grab two of its arms and let the worm burrow themselves into the joints to drool over the circuits with the same acid that helped to remove the tracker...hopefully those are not acidproof.
>>
>>5666877
Cruelty was never an option for SpecOPs it was the sweetnes of indictrination that made him into what he is. by the way sweetnes his next job is to assassinate some confectionery restaurant owner. while it was a rather petty job that he would ignore at anytime. After all bickering between smallfisher were not exactly the thing he found enjoyment it always kill this, mutilate that for low key favors and blood money that can be tracked down (often with the help of the previous contractor) with ease the Agency had to deal with these...fishes and let say everybody from children to adults loves fish fingers.

but this contract looked unique it had a ridicolous amount of cash and there was no extra criterias that indicated any bonus payment. curious the SpecOP agent has accepted the deal.

the problem was nobody could track the owner. so the best idea was to "ask" around and because its a small buisness extreme butality can do more harm than good and the customer has not said to assassinate the buisness itself. so to avoid complications "bloodless" interrogation should be used.
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>5667404
>Shake down employees for information
>>
>>5667348
How are we deciding who gets what loot? I wanna know which mangled bodyparts I am legally allowed to glue onto the Thingamajig.
>>
>>5667557
Continuing to plow things forward due to the clusterfuck that is trying to manage asynchronous time tables.
----
Indebted: Obtains the armor and helmet of rot, along with some of Troop's meat (like a third of the corpse). Circular saw. Indebted is fully repaired and has enough armor to upgrade it's plating.

Fizz: Grenade launcher and ammo belt, duster armor, helidrone + controller. Chainsaw.

Ignaz: sysadmin boots, skull hacker helmet, mobile command terminal

ArsonBot: a mostly crushed robot torso and head, 2 robot legs. 1 power arm and Grabber.

Thingamacrab: rot's drill and damaged generator, and biomass. remainder of the troop's corpse, shredded jumpsuit and ruined armor. 3 power arms.

Scorned guy: troop boots. damaged pistol. kneepad. damaged helmet. Rotary laser.

Beacon (hencefourth known as the lighthouse): shat in pants, perfectly fine corpse, anything I forgot to list.
-----

If you don't like anything you can feed it to the pit in the beacon, and speak your wish as to what you really want.
>>
>>5667365
SG came a little late to the party but participated briefly in the end >>5667348

Your 63 is banked. You may spend it on a roll result you don't like in the future.
----
>>5667356
Ignaz uses the random syringe.

1-29: Akira style body horror and melting to become one with "the beacon". This is not the end.
30-75: D-trooper compatibility serum. Gets the trooper hand and +10 to shooting rolls.
76-100: Regenerative nanomachine colony. Get the Sysadmin's hand and +15 to future "tech, computer, hacking and drone" related rolls.
----
>>5667406
Attempts to shake down the locals for information was met with some suspicion and hostility, he was sort of a conspicuous and overt looking blob. Strange meat men began to trail the SpecOp.
>>
>>5667684
I'm fine with those items, but Ignaz is more than welcome to the helidrone+controller if that's more up his alley!
>FIZZ duct-tapes the CHAINSAW to the STUN ROD for a STUN-CHAIN!
Having donned the DUSTER ARMOR and midway through her DARK WORK, Fizz turns and gives The Indebted a grateful smile! "Thanks for the help, big guy! You ain't hurt, are ya?"
>>
File: fizzarmorup.png (8 KB, 191x310)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5667688
Gonna take that GRENADE LAUNCHER too if no one else wants it. Assuming nothing else occurs I suppose Fizz will
>INVESTIGATE THAT WACKY TOWER
she was mysteriously drawn to. Anything to get her away from that creepy hump-bot still gyrating against the deactivated 6L...
>>
Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5667687
haha forgot to roll.
>>
>>5667730
would you like a redraw of the armor, or are you happy? Assumed lore: you got it refitted.
>>
>>5667754
I wouldn't mind a redraw since I suck ass at it! It's fine if it's a little bulky, though.
>>
File: protofujo.png (7 KB, 160x262)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5667757
Done and done.
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5667687
hoping for a 1-29!
>>
>>5667836
>>5667753
57 vs 68: the serum is d-trooper for sure.

Ignaz grunts in even more pain, somehow, as the somewhat dull syringe is forced through clothing and flesh. There was a dull ache that spread from the site of injection until it seemed to suffuse Ignaz. It faded, or maybe he just got used to it as time seemed to slow down and flatten. Depersonalization, derealization and disassociation...was he always this person he was? Yeah but it was more a part he was playing than it was a who he was, which was maybe inertia more than existing. Something to consider...the bloody stump grew sorta tacky, almost gummy. The corpse of that Troop outside had a good left hand. Yeah, this wasn't normal, but it seemed right.

Ignaz had the thingamacrab lop off the corpse's hand roughly at the wrist. As if on autopilot he jammed the severed appendage onto his still oozing stump, and for a few horrifying moments it seemed like nothing would happen. Slowly though, strands of ichor fastened and grew from arm to hand and then back again. The Troop was kindred in a way, it had the same therapy as Ignaz had just received. He could sense it on the woman as well. Flesh steadily reknit itself, first the superficial; skin, fat, capillaries...then feeling, the hand ticked to life, no, his hand. His new hand. Muscles and tendons bonded next, and finally the bones bit into each other and fused. Within a few minutes, aside from the obvious difference in color, it was like the hand was always there. Blood had even soaked back into the skin.

Sitting down on the forest floor he looked up at the sky and suddenly felt a sensation, or maybe remembered it. He had field stripped his laser and reassembled it. A faint hum could be heard coming from it, but he knew that was a healthy noise. Flexing the hand, knuckles cracked and popped in a way that was all at once familiar and foreign. Echos of something "No tactical advantage" and "...pretty good..." yeah. Just like that, the ideas were gone but that muscle memory remained.
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (17 KB, 1094x666)
17 KB
17 KB PNG
Rolled 93, 11 = 104 (2d100)

>>5667862
Well, this is new. Two rolls for Ignaz: First is to investigate the bits of Butler-flesh now fused to the beacon. Second is to see if this can be repeated with other parts of the trooper. Ignaz is willing to sacrifice a toe to try.
>>
File: Sec2.png (6 KB, 364x330)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5662589
meanwhile, just outside of 'Nayambei, members of the AKSG's Team for Interplanetary Termination and Security touch down. there have been a number of unusual signals emitted from Venus and the T.I.T.S. has been tasked to ensure that the backwater colony stays backwater, insignificant and non-dangerous.

They don't have the slightest clue what those signals mean or where they are coming from. Rolling to see if there's any indicators as to what's going wrong on the planet and for the cooperation of the on-planet ADMINs
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5668078
second roll here to see how hostile or helpful the local ADMIN and Spec are
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (19 KB, 1094x666)
19 KB
19 KB PNG
>>5668072
Oh and one last post, I forgot to put on helme and shoes
>>
>>5667684
The Thingamacrab messily devours(or as close to devouring as something with no mouth or digestive system can get) the remains of both it's rival and the turkey-like monstrosity it associated with, using the slain foes as fuel for unstymied growth. It's size and beauty are massive now, there is no way that pathetic ArsonBot will try and leave it again.

Speaking of the ArsonBot, it's neck joint had indeed come loose during that collision with a local rock(No hard feelings, rock, you're just not ArsonBot's type). Searching for a replacement, it comes across 6L's only mildly crushed head, and swiftly incorporates it into it's body in a manner not dissimilar from the Thingamajig's feeding frenzy.
As the head begins connecting to ArsonBot's neural wiring, it starts to feel... different. It's thoughts linger for longer, but get processed faster, and it's got so much more of them now... When this little repair is done, will it still think the same way... About Love?
>>
>>5668072
>93
The flesh is in a process of integration, plastic like material is gradually cladding or growing over the meat here and there. More interestingly, based on scans from his own equipment on the flesh, it is not the butler, not exactly. It's been extensively reconfigured at the genetic level into something new. At best it seems like it is pulling towards something. Something it wants.
>11
Ignaz had never cared much for his right pinkey toe. Not his own, no no, but the one that was in the boot from the dead trooper. Clipping off the toe he first threw it at the exposed flesh, and well, nothing. Going down to the pit he tossed it in. After much waiting, it was clear the toe was simply processed. Well. That was not too useful.

Ignaz could explore the local area around the lighthouse, dig towards the cavern, or find more...building materials for the lighthouse; and roll a 1d100
>>5668078
>8
Venus is a cluster fuck of jamming, errant signals, and electromagnetic noise. There were no obvious indicators without better equipment
>78
After a bit of time a friendly Admin greets them. One could scarcely tell the creature was once a mentally unstable engine of slaughter. The odd drowning warble in its voice and erratic tics in it's body language did little to put the team at ease. It indicates that the local "board" may have the equipment needed to pinpoint what they are looking for, but it will require commitments.

Do you meet the board, or do you strike out on your own? Write in and roll!
>>5668086
Love...and experience. ArsonBot, was that even a proper name anymore? ArmourBot? No. a terrible pun. However it knew it needed more of this love. There is a cavern, not so far from here. It would be a romantic place to dig in, and perhaps find more love. Alternatively, there was a signal being emitted which the new sensors from the former 6L were picking up, it might be worth a look. Not far at all...oh what a dark thought, while we are at it. The Thingamacrab could be fed into the tower, to become the tower. That is a lot of mass to love. A tall individual indeed!

1d100
>Write in your own choices
>Sacrifice the thingmacrab to the tower, merge them and enhance the overall beauty of this world.
>Have thingamacrab show it's devotion to you by digging out the cavern, and maybe sweeping the place up a bit.
>Explore the signal!
>>
Rolled 46, 3 = 49 (2d100)

>>5668101
this is precisely what the TITS operative was after: mission specific equipment. It sounds like they will be exchanging commitments for equipments, and the operative has enough experience with the company o know: you go with the flow. So they will take what they can get. Rolling twice: first roll is for fittingness of equipment - high means the equipment is useful for its mission, low means it may still be useful but not tailor made for locating and eliminating disturbances in the ordered chaos of the colony. I will now quantify the team to consist of three operatives and will be dropping drawings for them throughout the [TIME PERIOD]

Ignaz action to come later
>>
>>5668103
second roll was for the commitment. low means more involved, so that's gonna be a real doozy.
>>
File: 1684264571462962.png (1 KB, 81x296)
1 KB
1 KB PNG
Rolled 30, 73, 38, 42 = 183 (4d100)

>>5667348
Scorned Guy's kick against 2L's crotch has somehow cured the machine of it's paralysis through a miracle of percussive maintenance. Deploying secondary sensors and surveying the situation at hand, the pair of appendages reaches a wise conclusion: "shit's fucked, time to leg it" And "leg" it did, for it was leg itself.
Escaping was trivial, really, since those buffoons that wiped its team were too absorbed in defiling the bodies. Pft. Amateurs. Professionals only get equipment from trusted sources; looting every body you see is how you end up with ten different freeloaders in your head planning ten different apocalypses. "And a fashion disaster of a loadout", adds Right Leg, member of the Meat Mafia. "Agreed", chime in Left Leg and Pelvis, avid supporters of the Mirror Earth Cult and the Indigo Lodge respectively. None of them know about each other's proclivities, or for that matter their apocalyptic plans.

But enough mental dissing of their newest mortal enemies! Time to get out of this bumfuck forest before they get jumped by an anarcho-primitivist caveman or worse, a hippie. Hopefully this forest has good wi-fi; it'd be a shame to reveal their allegiance to the others, but it might just be that asking for a ride is their only choice...

Rolling for:
>rescue call to the Meat Mafia
>rescue call to the Mirror Earth Cult
>rescue call to Venutian 911(Indigo Lodge doesn't do rescues so gotta call the next best thing :( )
>managing to walk out of the forest on their own(invalidates other rolls if it succeeds)
>>
>>5667730
Fizz entered the tower, it was weird. Sort of like if a Junker had a fever dream and built something. A home? A too narrow, too tall home? The upper levels were crowded with machinery and some office chair with a threadbare blanket. Someone actually lived in that cramped electronics closet of a space. Wow.

The lower levels got more spacious, and as she explored she noticed more and more. Little automated things crawling in and out of the walls, segments of rock and paneling that flipped around on actuators and did..things? Maybe it was all nonsense. but she was sure there were craters in the tower that were now gone from that earlier fight. The place was sort of unusually preserved, but somehow had a light layer of dust like it needed a sweep.

the lowest level was some sort of weird murder pit with a mulching machine. On reflex she threw her oversized duster armor into the pit. A bit later it spat out the armor but for her size. After trying it on, no it was tailor made for her. Weird place. Useful place. Maybe worth moving into, but she would need to maybe dig out a room, or carve one? Her brain sort of itched here.

>1. Start digging, it seemed right.
>2. Go cut a few doorways upstairs.
>3. Get out of here for now. This is a strange place.
>>
Rolled 92, 92 = 184 (2d100)

>>5668101
Okay, Ignaz roll. Ignaz will do a fucked action and a not so fucked action.
Fucked: he will look for more building materials for the lighthouse.
Not fucked: Ignaz will try to add a little building to the light house where he can open a pub. There has been a lot of activity in the surroundings lately, so maybe he can supplement his absolutely abysmal income by selling a few beers
>>
Rolled 26, 40 = 66 (2d100)

>>5668101
AmourBot(maybe LoverBot? Gotta workshop that out more...) even with its upgraded faculties was an adventurer at heart, looking for love in all the wrong places, and sometimes even in the right places. The 6L's sensor told it its latest crush(the legs at least) was still in the area, but it wouldn't be right to try and win it back now; not after humping it to near-death. Feeling guilt about humping things to near-death was another feature of it's expanded mind, one that is unpleasant, yet neccessary for the rich experience of life.
With the only other signals nearby being the Tower itself and the new mystery, the choice was obvious.

Oh, speaking of the Tower, with the added brainpower of the 6L those Tower signals seem a bit... off, for spam mail. Maybe it won't hurt to look at one or two...

Rolling for:
>investigating the mysterious signal
>listening in on the Tower signals with 6L's sensor

The Thingamajig... Was forgotten and left to stand idly by the Tower. Again. Oh, the wonders of having such a scatter-circuit lover... But you can't choose who your central fluid pump beats for. At least there's more people now, maybe one of them will make use of it, like Ignaz did back in the good old days when it was just them, alone in the middle of the woods...
>>
>>5668107
Had an interesting idea for this character, with every limb being independently sentient and a part of a separate secret society, perhaps different players could come up with actions for different limbs. A sort of co-op "Leg RPG" if you will. Like Octodad but every limb is played by a different guy and they're all subtly working against each other while working together on the surface. Does this idea interest anyone here?
>>
File: TITS.png (8 KB, 592x367)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5668103
Two for now. A third will follow.
>>
>>5668125
I would be interested in the idea but I am skeptical of something like "leg evo" being conceptually possible. sounds like something that would be impossible to pin down really, too complex for mortal minds.
>>
File: TITS.png (14 KB, 892x367)
14 KB
14 KB PNG
>>5668128
all three now
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5667786
Love it, QM! Thanks for that!
>>5668108
Mouth agape and eyes wide at the fancy new armor courtesy of the freaky pit below her, Fizz gives the machine a polite 'thanks!' before turning around to scratch the itch in her head.
The sound of activity outside catching her ears, the girl bites her lip in contemplation as she plans out her next action. Having just watched a guy in tech gear reattach a new hand as easily as she brushed her hair in the morning and those freaky robots scuttle about amidst the corpses, Fizz decides to forego introductions for now and utilize the combat high and NIFTY NEW STUNSAW to follow the peculiar urge currently dominating her other thoughts:
>ROLLING TO DIG! DIG, FIZZ!
Finding an appropriate corner within the tower, the sprawler wasted no time in following her intuition. Whether she found something or not, Fizz was certain that it'd be worth the effort some way or another!
>>
>>5668125
Seems pretty neat, but given how we're already having issues with player activity I'd say it's probably best to just play as the legs for now and keep the other limbs open in case someone comes in later. Already digging the legs themselves, though! Made me smile at work today.
>>
File: MM.png (7 KB, 195x370)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5668103
The equipment is nothing but a receiver that gets information from a larger device. The admin assures the team that they can pinpoint the source of the transmission, but first the exchange.

The admin explains that there is a problem happening with a new local power that has competed with the current "Administration" for over 35 years. At one point they enjoyed amiable relationships, but this has since degraded and can no longer be counted on to be trustworthy.

The team gets the feeling this will be an extreme commitment. "What are they?"

"A shadowy group of bio-vampiric mechanoids who see human flesh as a cool fashion statement. The locals call them the Meat Mafia." The receiver displays many images of flayed corpses, stripped to the raw bone, and then a thing. a meat machine.

>Roll 1d100 to start searching and finding intel on this "meat mafia."
---
>>5668107
>>
Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>5668825
TITS know the drill with the company: you go with the flow, live at overclocked speeds and leave an unrecognizably mangled corpse which will be turned into a nutritious smoothie or parts of a new labourer. roling for intel
>>
>>5668911
that's a 100
>>
>>5668914
Hot dog, TITS are well-versed in all things Meat Mafia!
>>
>>5668107
The meat mafia, and Venutian 911 do not work so well. 2L is able to escape to the edge of the forest on it's own, with everyone busy figuring out what the fuck was going on a mobile crotch was of little concern. The Mirror Earth Cult landed a light scout craft near the forest edge and absconded with 2L, shoving it in a bag and putting tape over it's sensors, as is standard abduction protocol. It would be great if they didn't always do that though.
>>5668109
>92x2
Ignaz was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for still being alive after the harrowing experience that is nearly being killed. Getting shot at was for idiots! Running a pub, he always wanted to do that, well, always thought it would be cool, so why not now? Why not an Inn? The lighthouse clearly knew how to take care of itself, and could grow, so he took out to feed it, and in his spare time build a little tavern on one side of the structure.

Sometimes you can go overboard in the grandest of ways. Scouring the expansive grey mud flats between the city and his Lighthouse, there was ample scrap. The new helmet had MAD capability (magnetic anomaly detection) which really helped. The scraps were repurposed into some sort of unseen industry beneath the tower. Quiet rumblings and grinding ever present as minerals were excavated for ever more growth. Walls stretched and yawned wide as new beams grew in place like teeth from an infant's gums.

The tavern which started off on the ground floor was lifted up by the growth of the lighthouse itself, becoming a concentric ring around the spire. Ignaz's own style of construction was radially duplicated by an unknown intellect.

As time wore on, Ignaz's new hand gradually "firmed up" becoming less foreign and sticky, now just somewhat scarred but functional.
>>5668119
The Bot was still forming it's new identity, and in doing so observing the world. Signals caught it's attention, mysterious as they were. It would be a slow go but eventually it would pinpoint the source. More interestingly, the tower....the tower seemed to be more than just a crude structure, there was some sort of intellect to it, yet to be understood...yet to be romanced. Oh yes, this lighthouse was a tall drink of water, and ArsonBot, it was T H I R S T Y .
>>
Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>5667687
>>5668107
After the Battle SG finaly found a home even though he still lurks in the perifery of his new "allies" he gladly help good relations are important says the workers etiquette. but fist things fist setting a camp near or in the tower a comfortable living space...for a mutated Scav that he is.

SpecOPs storyline: the weird meat creature sintrigued him competitors or maybe henchmen. whatever the Case by the Agency's Law for hostile unauthorized bioweapons except Specs and a few other Civilized (i. e. employed) organisms and constructs Ultraviolent slaughter is accepted and by the addendum regarding racial and buisness competition its even encouraged.
so the Plan is to QuickScan the group for their allegiances. if they are useful one should be kept alive for interrogations. if not nobody will remember that they ever wanted to kill an operative.

(i guess i just need to roll one for the SpecOP cause SG has a unused roll)
>>
File: bigreveal.png (59 KB, 971x735)
59 KB
59 KB PNG
>>5668145
dangerous style.
>>5668272
>>5668276
(ill probably avoid more multi player events that require any sort of time coordination for progression. The Lighthouse is multi player, but can be ran asynchronously.)
Fizz began to cut away in accord with an urge that she wasn't quite sure was her own. Stone and soil parted easily as she found previously unseen pipes and cable bundles. Caution was gone as the objects were neatly severed in half, and as soon as they were the gap began to wide on it's own. Soon she was moving and cutting other random areas, the process repeating itself. The lighthouse was growing, she was helping it make that room to stretch. Even with the stunsaw, it was hard work taking most of the day. That said, the others were in a similar manic state.
>>5668911
The mercs knew what to do, and how to do it. They played a trump card and offered the local AKSG GmBH approval from AKSG AG proper to become a GmbH & Co. KG. The Admin had a bit of a shocked look in her eyes at the offer and put a finger to an ear, activating an unseen communication device. A moment later TITS was escorted to an elevator that was actually more of a giant pneumatic tube transport. The destination was a cavernous room full of unknown medical equipment and a massive machine in disrepair, lording over it all. A voce came from that thing, and with it, limited gesticulation from it's suspended limbs. "The offer of Gesellschaft mit beschränkter Haftung & Compagnie Kommanditgesellschaft is accepted in exchange for all available data on events leading up the creation and organization known as "the meat Mafia".

>TITS has a full understanding of the previous thread, the fact that there are at least two other Dasein Class AIs in 'Nayambe. The previous colony AI native to Naya Bombay "Patel" remains active in a benign state, governing most of the city's infrastructure, while an unknown "ArsonBot" variant has consistently caused incidents of anything from petty vandalism, sewing racial and caste division, and to include but not limited to class 3 terrorist activity. The other AI's are considered a direct challenge with the entity in which you are currently interacting with and prohibit meaningful cohesion and stability with regards to getting acceptable standards of product development and production output. Nayambei is considered by the AI to be a wholy owned but independent development center for AKSG and has been attempting to field test numerous advances in disposable technology and "Assets." for several decades.

>Ask any questions.

>>5667406
Spec Op's personal device chimed, and it was notified that it would no longer be working alone on this task. Please report to the AKSG local administrative building.
>obey
>do not obey
>>
File: expand dong.png (2 KB, 71x186)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
The Lighthouse had grown.
>>
>>5669106
tl/dr: for tits team. They made an offer to this local branch of AKSG for improved corporate standing. Likely they had been holding onto this trump card for a bit, but with the natural 100 roll, chose to use it. The benefit is that the local AKSG powers that be will bend over backwards for them for a bit with regards to intel on the meat mafia, and probably a few other things.
>>
>>5669151
yea that came across.

>>5669106
>Ask any question

I don't know if I am competent to even think of one.

I guess here are three:

>What is the quickest way of taking out the meat mafia?
>What is the real purpose of AKSG on Venus?
>What is the signal we are after?
>>
>>5669166

>What is the quickest way of taking out the meat mafia?
Assumption: Identifying their base of operation and disabling manufacturing and cloning facilities. This is not know, but may be attainable with your off world resources and data interrogation capabilities.

>What is the real purpose of AKSG on Venus?
AKSG Venus branch is as previously stated. ///classification override/// AKSG on venus develops technology to support the on going conflict and harvesting efforts against the forces of both the lower and upper realms of existence within this dimension. AKSG prides itself in being within the upper percentiles of it's corporate competition. -AKSG GmBH & Co. KG- is wholly owned yet fully independent, with it's own operational agenda and interests; it is a strategic barrier and buffer for internal politics.

>What is the signal we are after?
We do not know. It is both foreign to human and known machine profiles. Hybrid digital-analog in nature, defying currently known means of generation; likely multi-dimensional, yet unlinked to the Jovian dimensional tear. (see: HellDivers Dolph and Bill incident.)
>>
>>5669106
Having finally got a bit of whatever got into her out of her system, Fizz takes a minute to wipe the sweat off her brow and finally realize she's been digging for what must have been at least an hour.
That fatigue coupled with that of the battle she had just participated in prompted her body to deliver a very specific message:
"Take a dang break already!"
Putting her STUNSAW back into one of the slings that came with her spiffy new armor, the street urchin-turned corporate killer skips out of her excavation site in the direction of the surface.
Emerging into the unforgiving humidity of the Venusian Outback, Fizz perks up at the site of not only the strange man she saw reattaching a hand earlier, but also a whole new addition to the tower: one that resembled one of the countless canteens she regularly swiped drinks and pub feed from.
Intent on getting some answers, Fizz jauntily approaches the tech dweeb with a cheery whistle and a wave!
"Afternoon, mister! You the guy in charge around here? Where'd you get fancy digs like this anyways?"
>>
>>5669220
>>5669166
awaiting player interaction.
>>
>>5669220
>>5669439
Criminy. I guess while we wait Fizz is gonna
>FIDDLE WITH HER PERSONAL DEVICE
and
>TRACK DOWN SNACKS
>>
Rolled 45, 94 = 139 (2d100)

>>5669203
Alright. TITS now having used its Betriebsrat-authority chip to give AKSG GmBH an independent Kommandit-status, they will go to fuck up the meat mafia (first roll). But before they do so, Wild J turns again to the Super AI.
>We're probably going to be a while. In the meantime, it'd be good if you kept an eye on that signal. Have a sprawler or a tech or whatever seek it out and send us updates.

>>5669220
Ignaz wriggles out of a piece of self-erected pseudo-wall in which he was caught during the building frenzy. His new hand twitches as he is surprised by the dirt-covered sprawler, but his mroe trusting brain prevents the limb from drawing his pistol.

"I don't know if I would say I'm in charge... All this is company property, of course. But I live here, and until recently, I've been the person taking care of this place. That has somewhat... automated, by now.
As for its origins - I actually pilfered it from an abandoned construction site. It was just some thingimajig, a template construction device, but somehow the template in it is... odd. I don't know what it is exactly, but this beacon includes technology within its walls I cannot even conceive of.
And by now it also makes margaritas!"
>rolling for making a margarita.
>>
>>5669581
>45
The best Recon and Arsonbot team were put on observation duty of the signal. It would be exactly where you left it, neatly folded, and perhaps even cleaner and whiter than before!
>94
Ignaz summoned all his skill at making a margarita. Local tequial, Local triplesec, and local lime juice, all in the bar, and none of it ever having been locally available. Much like a college screwball comedy movie, its best to not concern yourself with were the alcohol is coming from, only that it does come. And all things considered, it was a better than serviceable example of a margarita. About 8 of them later, Ignaz had to agree with himself, and the voice of the tower, they were very good. He was good at what he did. Yes.
----
Fizz: Roll 1d100 to determine if you drank, greater than ...roll to see how fucking drunk you are. 1 is Violently drunk, 100 is also violently drunk, 50 is stone sober.
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>5669581
>>5669596
Fizz' eyes light up at the mention of the word 'odd'. "You could say that again, mister," she nods, watching the grubby-looking tech as he fiddles with the gizmos behind the bar, "I've never seen anything like this place! Talk about a lucky find!"

As the man produces a salt-rimmed concoction, Fizz turns to give the place another wide-eyed once-over. "Automated," she repeats in a hushed voice as gossamer-thin strings of light danced around the walls, "yea... it's almost like magic or something. Like they always talk about in the movies!"

Fizz didn't really consider herself much of a cinephile, but living on the street one learned to take enrichment as it came. Watching the building perform its tasks, images of castles and wizards danced through her sugar-addled brain.

"Sooooo," she continues, cautiously creeping over to the bar when she notices the tech is making MULTIPLE drinks, "Do ya' think the uh... the company's gonna come and take it off your hands?"

Fizz might be young, but she had a pretty good idea of the answer already. When the company wanted something, well...

Scooping one of the drinks into her now-armored hand, Fizz lets the statement hang in the air as she takes a sip of the icy green draught. In another life an appropriate family figure or friend would have warned her by now about the inherent risks of accepting a drink from a stranger, but the girl's upbringing was anything but typical.

As such, it came as no surprise to anyone that Fizz' first swig was a big one, and finding the flavor pleasing, one swig turned into a LOT.

"Well anyways, you're in luck, boss!" Slumping in one of the nearby chairs, Fizz continues to enjoy her well-earned(?) drink. "I've been looking for a place to crash... figure I can't compete with that 'automation', but four eyes are better than two... and uh... lots of... robot eyes, right?"

She wasn't lying. The place was a bona fide castle compared to her usual lodgings--hell, she hasn't been bitten by a junkie ONCE since she arrived! "Name's Fizz, by the way! Pleased ta' meetcha!"

>Rolling to not get fucking SCHWASTED. Will roll also if persuasion is necessary...
>>
Rolled 1, 71, 19 = 91 (3d100)

>>5669609
"Ignaz" the newly-minted bartender replies, offering a soldier's handshake his hand knew to execute without his say-so.
"And I could always use another pair of hands. My Butler was... terminated some time ago and there is a lot in this place I haven't fully figured out yet. Sure, the whole thing is 'automated' in the sense that it does what it wants, but I have not yet figured out how to interface with it nor how to tell it what to do. I feel like if I were to be able to communicate with it, it wouldn't necessarily be amiliable to listen.
The whole thing has he air of a directed mechanism without the thing it is supposed to be directed towards, like the lighthouse is trying to fulfil a purpose which simply does not correspond to the reality of its surroundings.
Speaking of those surroundings, there's one thing you could do: You could explore the area around he lighthouse so we know if there is any immidiate danger around. Not from the company, mind you" he is quick to add, as if evoking a protective invocation, "as I said, all this is company property. We are simply... caretakers. I'm sure there is no reason for the AKSG to intervene in any way."

>>5669596
MEANWHILE TITS operatives are slaughtering meat mafia members in the streets (a roll for each operative)
>>
File: Ignaz map.png (21 KB, 1094x666)
21 KB
21 KB PNG
>>5669146
yes it has
>>
>>5669609
>>5669641
>90: escalated to 100. crit.

Fizz finds herself fully intoxicated. The positive here is, so is Ignaz. The nerd. The bartender. She hadn't told him he was wearing a box on his head. It started off clearly a joke, and became forgotten. He suggested they explore the property. Adventure! The brave knights set out on a quest, but what quest?

A voice, one they both could hear "Fi..d ...alty. Sec....ession." With only the reckless enthusiasm a wastrel can manage, they sought out this voice, etheral as it was. Climbing and falling down several ladders and stairs, only to climb again, they found the voice, at the top! "Find the Royalty. Secure the Succession." Searing light engulfed both of them, dissolving them, taking them. Unceremoniously dropping them in the front of the tower with a painful ringing in their ears. "FIND THE ROYALTY! SECURE THE SUCESSION!" Fizz for her part, felt just the tiniest bit reduced from that. Slight pain. Wew.

A quest from a wizard in a tower. Ignaz for his part rubbed the back of his head and with a shrug looked to her. "We find the royalty." With a slight cough, he noted that being transported in that manner felt like being kicked in one of his nuts.

Roll 1d100: Fizz and Ignaz.
-----
Operatives, skilled and dangerous in their environment, but often mistaken for soldiers. This they are not, and the biggest set of swinging reproductive organs on the block, they were not.

Wild J was ambushed and dogpiled by a mob of unfleshed cyborgs intent on collecting her skin. By the time Young' D was able to beat all the meat off of her teammate the downed member was thoroughly expended. A body in it's twilight moments, advance corporate technology kicked in, preserving the corpus and lowering core temperature. Private' H provided supporting fire as Young' D evacuated with one body, only to find herself burdened with two. The sniper went down under a churning murder rave of spines and blades, only to escape on the doorstep of death. As the trio retreated H provided cover fire but succumbed to unconsciousness.

Going to the only place she could think of "D" returned to the AI. Medical droids wordlessly guide her and provided assistance in loading her companions into pods scattered around the cavernous room. Nearly all housed fully or partially formed individuals. None injured though. odd. The following conversation was brief. It would take time until her party was restored, though there were ways to accelerate the process... The AI's detached taloned claws gestured calmly throughout the communication in a dismissive manner. Other choices also remained...
---
>Incorporate the others into herself via "Optimized Recon Reconfiguration.". A single superior example.
>Expedite their recovery via augmentation with local resources. Cyborgs...bioweapons...and more.
>Demand immediate recovery, and be granted immediate 100% recovery. The party will be like new.
>Interrogate the AI on these processes.
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>5669667
rolling for ignaz

How embarrassing about TITS. I don't think they deserve immediate recovery.
>Expedite their recovery via augmentation with local resources. Cyborgs...bioweapons...and more.
this is more up the right street

and while we're waiting
>Interrogate the AI on these processes.
>>
File: 1673446985018177.png (44 KB, 300x300)
44 KB
44 KB PNG
Rolled 91 (1d100)

You know what? Fuck it. Ex-Terminus Ex-clone CEO has found his way back out of death* as a massive fucking sword-wielding robot and he's now the problem of everyone who stands in his way to restoring the corporation to its former glory. For the autism's sake: there is no nervous system inside, just a set of interconnected HDDs grinding HARD to simulate the clone's consciousness. And an extensive fallback system that ensures the hellish contraption cannot "die" from the hardware failures.
CEO came from desert and had no fucking idea where on Venus he ended up so when he finally reached "civilization", he picked up the first seemingly-hopefully-doubtfully-intelligent bipedal creature resembling a human, lifted its face up to his facebox and asked in metallic tone: [What is this place?]
*citation needed
>>5669667
>>
>>5669751
this rules
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5669751
What >>5669798 said!

>>5669667
Fizz barely heard the words of her newfound companion through her excitement-induced catatonia. This was it: a once in a lifetime chance at... at a REAL QUEST! From a WIZARD! Forget about hoofing mysterious packages across the colony or fighting other street urchins for the last shred of cheese caked onto burger wrappers--this was the REAL MCCOY!

Goaded onwards by the booze from her ONE DRINK hurtling through her caffeine-enriched blood vessels at mach speed, Fizz immediately snatches up the bartendnerd's sleeve in her free hand and starts dragging him in towards the jungle!

"Den whadderweWAIDENfor, IGGY!?" She slurred, thankful that her newfound robotic legs were only marginally affected, "Wegoddafin da PRINCHESS.... or PRINSH!"

It's a good thing Iggy had her with him, she thinks to herself with an assured nod. He clearly had a head full of technological know-how and could sling a mean drink, but he hardly struck her as the type to know how to act around royalty.

Free drinks, a place to crash, a new pal, and a MAGICAL QUEST. Today, she reasoned, is gonna be a good day after all!
>>
File: Adventure!.png (7 KB, 474x525)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5669820
>>
File: 1661327427128242.png (108 KB, 600x600)
108 KB
108 KB PNG
>>5669751
Reposting AI upscaled version, because the resolution in original was shit and undeserving of being in this thread.
>>5669798
>>5669820
Thank you, thank you, he'll be here all week.
>>
>>5669675
Inside their tanks the two TITS operatives are prodded and poked by mechanical arms on circular gantries in the fluid medium. The sniper was hooked up to a series of tubes, her blood cycled out and replaced with a bioweapon not unlike a "Spec" or "Admin." Tears in tissue were already sealing shut. stab wounds puckering closed. Skin and muscle writhed in ways fully unnatural. Changing, body and mind. She was clearly contaminated by the Venutian technology and would likely not be permitted off world again by AKSG AG.

The Gunner was far more...dead. Not brain dead yet, but well on her way. A host of cybernetic implants derived from the "Limb" series were used to supplant missing flesh, while a cruel number of neural spikes were jammed into her skull to support control of what would normally be very enthusiastic AIs. The notion was that the decentralized nervous system would cope with the new sensory feeds and help stave off psychosis. Nearly every organ in the thoracic and abdominal cavity was replaced with some mass produced machine equivalent. a 4L cyborg. A haphazard job of a woman's flesh wrapped around a cybernetic frame. The AI commented on this one. "...meat mafia in all but affiliation." Maybe an infiltrator?

When quizzed about the consequences of these actions the AI nearly shrugged. "Compartmentalization of knowledge. Augmentation is well known; as is medical intervention. The reality of the most lethal injury is that of the Reconstituted. Fully reconstituted represent those who are not economically viable for repair. An acceptable replacement is generated, neural spike implanted, with removal and replacement of the original as a Recon." 'Nayambei healthcare was simply cloning. It was D-trooper technology of those too injured to be economically salvaged, with the...fuck.

>Roll 2d100 for the results of their recovery. a 1 is a monster, loyal, but absolutely changed, and a 100 is an elegant solution.
>>5669820
>78 - low threat
>64 - low threat
Ignaz and Fizz stumbled forward into the wild. There were more of these tree things than there should be, and it was GREAT. This place went on forever, only getting denser with trees and an unfamiliar sky and animals that they had never seen. Really magical stuff...really magical stuff. There were a few times they saw strangers at a distance, but they always managed to hide in a bush, or up a tree. Conversation was had about hopes and dreams, plans for futures both practical and impossible. Retirement and maybe just living in the lighthouse. The strangers moved with a nearly ritualized structure and gait, to some impossible script or mathematical formula only know to them. the journey that should have taken 20 minutes was bordering on 4 hours by their own clocks, and yet the destination was still onward. The horrors of sobriety had settled in now and their destination was just ahead.

>Roll 1d100 for the remainder of this most excellent journey.
>>
Rolled 10, 5, 59 = 74 (3d100)

>>5669980
these updates come without fail at my bedtime. rollinig for the gals. Hoping for maximum retention of personality but they knew the risks

also rolling for the excellent journey
>>
>>5669981
It is time to acknowledge that TITS were all hype no punch. Their rolls are comically bad
>>
>>5669854
This is good.
>>5669969
so is this.
>>5669751
>91
"....Its 'Nayambei! Nayambei!" the pause stretched on as crackling HDDs created something that resembled consideration. [Where is Nayambei?]. The wastelander panicked and started naming off geographic regions, times, the solar system, finally stating "Venus! we are on Venus man!" Setting the man down, the CEO of Ex-Terminus questioned the man to exhaustion; This was not Naya bombay, but Nayambei. It has been over 30 years since the colony crash landed on Venus. Terminus was not known to this individual, nor does he know who runs Nayambei. Further interrogation revealed as much as the man knew about the local force structures of this region. Intel. Good.

Meat Mafia. Plunderers. Sounded like remnants of D-team and the Betacorps, maybe one of the others. The androids, robots, and bioweapons seemed to have adapted to the new environment, but the man seemed confused as to "Clones and D-troopers." Further pressing just lead to more confused parroting of unfamiliar words "Strooper? Fujo? 5G aids? Patel? A fucking bear? We aren't on earth and can't afford a zoo!" he had reached the limit of his situational usefulness.

The CEO considered options. Terminus would need to be reconstituted, but that would require a corproate board. What good is a CEO without his board? Was it practical?
----
pick 1 and roll 1d100
Time to start rebuilding? [Yeah. I think I'm back.]
Wander for adventure and violence. [Do you like hurting people?]

pick 1. roll 1d100
>Leep the dude as your first new board member and not at all terrified slave.
>Delete the dude.
>Dude is free to go, maybe he will spread word of you and cause former allies to return.

Pick as many as you want, and roll 1d100 per.
>Search for the known AI's of the Naya Bombay era. Patel and a particularly savage "arson bot."
>Try to covertly find ex-terminus affiliates, resources, installations and information.
>Go find these "plunderers" and recruit them. They were once a powerful force.
>Investigate this "meat mafia." they may be of use.
>Establish a new base of operations.
>write in.
>>
Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>5669854
This is fantastic! ONWARD TO ADVENTUREEEE!
>>5669980
Couple of questions for Iggy that I'm sure Fizz would have asked along the way.: please read in an appropriately peppy and chipper tone, preferably in rapid succession. Also gonna roll for JOURNEY
>"So what got ya' into techy stuff anyways?"
>Do you like your job? What would ya be if you could be ANYTHIING??"
>"Whaddaya think the royalty's gonna be like? Pretty? Handsome? Cute? Rich? Mean? Magical? Do you think they're gonna make us KNIGHTS??"
>"Didja grow up on this planet? Where ya from?"
>"Do you wanna build stuff forever? Do you have any dreams?"
>"Didja build those robots back at the tower? Are they your friends?"
>"You're good at making drinks--where'd ya learn to do that??"
>"What kind of monsters and stuff live out here, ya think? And where did all of these wacky trees come from?"
>"What' your favorite food??"
>"Do I talk too much? Some people say I talk too much. Do I? Is that bad??"
>"How much further do you think it is from here?"
>"Is your head hurting yet? Mine is. Any idea on how to stop it from hurting?"
>>
Huh. It says I posted, but I ain't seeing it yet. If it doesn't show up in a bit I'll try again, but I did a roll and stuff, honest!
>>
Rolled 7, 51, 95, 40, 74 = 267 (5d100)

>>5669986
>>We aren't on Earth
[And where do you think your supply drops get sent from? The Sun?] The machine responded, its head reflecting Sun straight at the man's face.
>Time to start rebuilding.
>Dude is free to go, maybe he will spread word of you and cause former allies to return.
He was a good man, maybe even the best (within the arm's reach).
>Try to covertly find ex-terminus affiliates, resources, installations and information.
Crash around the local area to find those possible remnants of terminus. It's fine if there aren't any, we will just have to devise a different source to get a subhuman female taskforce from. Maybe. Or maybe we will sexualize arsonbots.
>Go find these "plunderers" and analyze them
If they're clones they should be identifiable by their peculiar central nervous systems. Er, ask them what/who/why they are before committing gruesome violence just to look inside their heads.
>Investigate this "meat mafia." they may be of use.
I don't know what use they will be of, but I want to hear more. Maybe get sword practice.
>>5669969
That's a rather nice post number if I do say so myself.
>>
>>5670077
>7: Rebuilding
The CEO literally had no idea what the fuck he was doing, and was fully making this all up on the fly. So started the new rise of the terminus faction. (internal records of on details of useful projects were not found. not a one. Things will have to be discovered in the field)

>51: Free to go
With no further use, the man was released no worse for the wear, if slightly unnerved by the experience. For better or worse, the name "Terminus" started to circulate amongst the common folk for a time. The machine was fearsome, but it didn't steal their flesh, so that was a good thing!

>95: Find ex terminus assets.
The wastes provided. The CEO tracked down historical rumors of mercenaries and freedom fighters, sometimes finding a fragment of truth. In quick order it had ascertained that there were still living former terminus employees. The Khalga Asi was one of perhaps a handful of living "Strooper" descendants. Modified female D-troopers. This particular variant was a rejected model that fled from earlier purges; equipped with a psychoactive plasma blade, the weapon grew in strength with her resolve. Interestingly enough she was outfitted with equipment resembling another dead end project "PRIYA."

The "Ex-Terminus" was a freedom fighter roughly descendent from "Boomers". Specialists in gurilla warfare, though this one was well past it's expiration date, and carried bits and pieces of gear resembling other terminus units of that era. A mishmash of cybernetics and "regeneration gas" kept him alive.

Finally: A small 8 man atmospheric shuttle.

>40:Plunderers + analyze
The CEO wandered for a few days, which when you are a tireless machine is a non-issue. Leads provide by locals told stories of men in powerful armor from off world, who wreaked havoc and took what they wanted. Truth be told though; in recent years the stories had all but dried up. Dessicated corpses were found, and even fragments of Jovian ship breaker armor. This was the right track. (gained 1 "Plunderer, and several crates worth of plunderer scrap.)

Eventually in an out of the way settlement the CEO managed to track down a plunder warrior; well a poor example of one. The suit was in terrible condition, and it didn't even use a hammer anymore, hiding behind an energy shield. The investiation was more of a brief fight in which the "plunderer" was laid out and forcefully removed from his suit. It wasn't even a genetic relative of the original occupant, just a usurper. The downed "plunderer" explained most of the guard were dead, their expensive and hard to maintain suits gradually lost through attrition. Parts and scraps became precious as vital spares to keep the old equipment running. New strategies around avoiding direct combat emerged and over time the old guys simply died off, or sold off their suits. Maybe a few were left, and if the CEO could activate the homing repeater on this suit, he could find what was left of these once mighty warriors.

>74: Meat mafia
>>
>>5670219
Locating the meat mafia was not a major issue, they were fairly obvious in 'Nayambe. Interacting with them was another matter entirely, as they have a history of aggressively attacking interlopers. Recently an off world AKSG hit team was the latest victim of this policy. That said, the CEO was also a machine, and offered no immediate hostility to the strange constructs who also resembled an archaic design from decades past. The "Build-a-Trooper".

No doubt there was influence from D-team in this region.
>>
>>5669076
>>5669106
The Answer is of course Obeying there is enough conditioning that everything (aside from self harm) will be accepted.
>>
Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>5669987
>oh you know I was born a low caste ch--
>erm well the one I have currently is a little more stimulating than--
>I don't know, I have no idea what we are looking for. This whole thing may just be a translation error, in fact I have a theor--
>Mhm--
>I--
>No but 237 is my flat mate. I still have to talk with him about having messed up his room. I think I may owe him money?
>It's really the bar that--
>I hope there aren't any monsters! The trees are fungal growths, I think, terraforming spores which were not pruned.
>I don't tend to eat any non-paste base--
>I mean you do a lit--
>Maybe a spot of silence could help?
>>
>>5669667
>>5669980

SG has Settled most of his days are spent in solitude sitting in his room mumbling to himself... one day a can of soda landed in his room. grabbing it then taking a sip both the recon and worm, and the shared mind concluded it should not be touched next time.
but after this not so tasty encounter he came to a realisation that he barely knows anything about his newfound "comrades" so his next stop was the Bar but it was empty but the smell of booze and soda still lingered in the air maybe join their quest of self delusion as the only one sub IQ sane man...worm...thing. after all an extra pair of hands can maybe help before something really bad happens.
>>
File: 1_SG.png (10 KB, 224x299)
10 KB
10 KB PNG
>>5670348
These were turbulent times. SpecOps was assigned to support the offworlders with the understanding that if preformance was found acceptable it may become the next export template for the bioweapon class, or perhaps even go so far as to become THE new revision and standard. What glory, what awe. Its mission aligned with these individuals as well, the task of tracking down the meat mafia began anew.

>Roll 1d100 to see how this character is configured by the AI.
1-30>SpecOps as injected into the TITS sniper, configuring bipedal flesh to it's whims.
31-75> SpecOps was given a mass upgrade, doubling in height.
76-100>SpecOp's weapon was replaced with a portable c-beam. (c-beam is basically a continuous cutting laser.)
>Roll another 1d100 to see how combat goes against some low level thungs. Warm up session.
>>5670359
troop boots. damaged pistol. kneepad. damaged helmet. Rotary laser. It was something to work with. The worms seemed to know what was going on. The pistol's melted barrel was just cut off turning it into a crude sub nose. Still more range than the worms. The kneepad fit around an elbow, and after clearing out some broken visor bits the helmet fit with enough room to put the hat back on. Hats made people look normal, so this should help. hmm..that laser, yeah. Not sure why it was given to me. us. them? Still, a lot better than not having it.
---

SG stepped outside to find some very strange things happening. The local reality seemed to be overlayed with another place. At least that is what the worms seemed to think. In the extreme distance he was able to pick out two little pricks of color that didn't belong with his worm grown eye. Between him though, and where he wanted to be was a lot of terrain and some other figures that did belong to this landsape, but didn't belong on Venus. They were closing in on Fizz and Ignaz.
>roll to see how SG had aided the journey of Fizz and Ignaz.
>>
File: SP01Bot.png (97 KB, 672x529)
97 KB
97 KB PNG
>>5670353
>>5669987
>54 and 64
The idle prattle carried on, and the two grew acquainted enough with many medical facts being overshared and probing questions of great discomfort asked. Just ahead was the source of the signal, some sort of crashed pod. The conversation did not abate.
>"So were you ever a coomer?!"
>"What?"
>"You know, one of those kids who spoke in the memeslanguage? Shoot your goo my dude? Ara Ara? Amiritebro? Umadsempai? LaMeow?" Fizz belted off an assault of things to which Ignaz either did not know, or vehemently feigned ignorance to. One of the earlier machines caught up with the duo to which Iganz was almost grateful as it failed its arms and screeched in an increasing pitch and oscillation. It was clearly placing itself between the pod and them.
----
What do you do? Write in and roll.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>5670540
"Hey, what's the big idea interrupting a conversation like that?! Put an egg in your shoe and BEAT IT!"
>Blast the bot's braincase with a few GRENADE LAUNCHER ROUNDS!
>>
File: ah-eto-bleh-anime.gif (1.16 MB, 640x460)
1.16 MB
1.16 MB GIF
>>5670549
Shit. I need pic related but with Fizz because I'm clearly gonna be using it a lot with these rolls!
>>
>>5670549
>crit fail. Why do you do this to me anon?

"Bloop. Bloop" this grenade launcher makes a funny noise. "Ping". It never went ping before.
---
How did the grenade ricochet or fail?

1d100
>1-10: Hit fiz in the head, full explosion. maybe dead?
>11-20: Hit Fiz's gun, exploding. Minus two arms.
>21-30: Hit Ignaz's feet, exploding. You maimed Ignaz.
>31-40: Hit the pod, and exploded. FUCK. The pod!
>41-50: Grenade hits you in the head, does not explode. K/O.
>51-60: Grenade hits Ignaz in the head, K/O.
>61-90: Grenade was a dud. Bounces off the robot harmlessly. It seems both angry and confused.
91-100: You shot a can of fizz. It actually exploded when it hit the robot.
>>
Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5670567

"Oh, a robot. Perhaps we can reason with it, there is no reason for it to be hostile after a--MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING"
>>
Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>5670567
It makes things more interesting! R-right??
>>
File: fizz bleh.png (7 KB, 582x345)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5670550
>>
Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>5669058
AmourBot had been traversing the forest in search of the signal for what felt like 30 minutes, but what was according to its two internal clocks either 4 or 20 hours. One of them REALLY needs a calibration. Probably the one that's been running for 38 years nonstop.
6L's signal was now gone, though the Bot made note of the direction it went in; the mystery signal had not moved an inch and was still impossible to pinpoint. The Tower's signal, of course, was as clear and as cryptic as ever. With battery running low, AmourBot decided to do one last lap in search of the signal before heading back home. If it didn't find anything, maybe it'll look into where 6L(or should it be 2L now?) went off to.

Rolling for:
>finding the mystery signal

Sorry for the slow mostly-text posts, very busy with other stuff right now
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5670595
Ignaz rolling to help arsonbot's navigaion sinc e Ignaz own tracker is close to the mystery signal and as good room mates, he and Armourot ha dexchanged numbers
>>
>>5670589
Saved. My coworkers are very confused as to why I laughed like a moron just now. Kudos, anon!

>>5670567
In case we need a new action, Fizz is gonna make the expression above and get behind Iggy. Maybe diplomacy IS the way here??
>>
File: 1663945651828248.png (6 KB, 500x434)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
Rolled 65, 41, 62, 79, 79, 58, 24, 48, 80 = 536 (9d100)

>>5670219
>>5670219
>7 Internal records of on details of useful projects were not found. Not a one.
[Useless. Useless. Useless.]
>95 Khalga Asi
[Self-preservation instinct is of no use.]
>95 Ex-Terminus A mishmash of cybernetics and "regeneration gas" kept him alive.
[Impressive craftsmanship. Still, it didn't save your leg.]
>40 The downed "plunderer" explained most of the guard were dead, their expensive and hard to maintain suits gradually lost through attrition.
[Poor craftsmanship. Machines weren't meant to be made of plastic.]
>74 resembled an archaic design from decades past. The "Build-a-Trooper"
[Hard to believe these things outlived wild Fujos.]

>Internal Records: Punch the wall in response to finding no documents.
>Assets: Expertly disarm Khalga Asi
And if that fails
>Kick her in the twat and grab her by the collar
>Check her body to determine whether it's real Priya and demand to know where did she get the PRIYA's equipment from.
Priya did have her own looks, he should be able to determine that much.
>Check what that sword of hers can do vs. the traditional blade (up to QM's interpretation)
>Tell the Ex-Terminus mans to come with and harass the Meat Mafia to get some of their fun-gas to upgrade his zombie serum
Boomers were the foundation on which Terminus proudly wobbled against the unending shitstorm of Storm Trooper failures.
>Plunderer: Pull the mans out of the cockpit and throw him across the yard
>Activate the homing repeater.
These mecha suits are intriguing, even if they're constructed from the same rubber as cheap sex toys are.
>Meat Mafia: Devise a plan to steal the fun gas from the shitpile Meat Mafia calls their local base of operations. [Spoiler] Hopefully using the Ex-Termiboomer's tacticool insanity).[/Spoiler]
>>
Rolled 24, 81, 26 = 131 (3d100)

>>5670527
Spec op roll (blurb align to the number)

SG has stepped into the wildernes and Started to run like an idiot. the worm that holding the handgun started to make a sizzling noise. It was not a good thing for the outsiders but SG felt that the worm(s) are getting excited.
>>
>>5670682
SpecOPs has fused temporaly with the sniper this relationship goes two ways atleast he likes to think it goes he gives any physical and mental strenghtening needed and the sniper has a tremendously enhanced efficency however he is the property of HQ so this temporal fusion should remain classified.

the side effects of the fusing ispersonality distortion for the host, and maybe addiction to combat stims. for the Spec parasite the greatest bane of all EMOTIONS and increased hunger for organic tissue.
>>
>>5670570
>74 for negotiation. -6 for Fizz. Effective 68: ~I'll give you a D+ for the effort.
The machine pivots itself seeming to observe the grenade fly away, until it clubs some poor animal who dies with an abrupt squeal. Indifferent to the scene, it picks up two rocks, and throws one at each of your chests, which hurts, but is not lethal by any means. Spotting 237 it almost apologizes for the exclusion Arsonbot before also throwing a much smaller rock at it to correct the social fauxpas.

>Gesture at the Pod.
>Try to communicate
>shoot it point blank with the laser gun.
>write in.

>>5670571
>82 for bonk.
The grenade flew off into the distance, cudgeling some poor animal on the head. Its fine. Its fine.
>its not fine. You killed it!

>>5670595
29+50- Success. Asynchronous event. Gained Arsonbot.
During the walk Ignaz managed to distract himself from Fizz's endless dialog via staring off into space, looking at maps on his visor, and using predictive speech analysis from his helmet to answer questions with a synthesized version of his own voice. Hopefully he didn't answer anything wrong. It was worth it thought. The signal from 237 was faintly but there. He fed coordinates to the machine, drawing it to them. By the time Fizz had decided to shoot a fucking interdimensional robot in the face, the diminutive ArsonBot crawled out from under the brush.
>he did. He did answer something wrong he would have normally never said yes to.

>>5670589
Wholesome, Funny, and Cute.
>>
File: Cores.png (11 KB, 557x249)
11 KB
11 KB PNG
>>5670682
>81: The new SnipeOps entity is highly effective, given how much humanity has been eschewed. Revisiting the scene of the earlier ambush this new unit calmly "decommissoned" two lesser meat mafia street gangs by staying in hiding, going places and doing things that someone with the burden of bones would find impossible. The results already the AI was dusting off the "Fujo" files and reconsidering the utility of the Admin types.

>26
SG blundered along yelling and attacking just about anything that moved. He really didn't want to wake up again on a slab. There was some trauma regarding that. Bird things were shot, trees were shot, more than a few bushes were shot. Like the proverbial Hansel, SG left a trail to find his way back home, but it was fire and ruin. He also hasn't gotten overly far, but man is he trying. As a result of all his trying, some of the machine things from this place have taken notice.

>Write in and roll. Run, Attack, retreat, communicate?
>>
File: Calm J.png (4 KB, 373x345)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5669981
>>5670708
New entity online: Advanced Recon based on 4L technology. Subject's muscle memory and as much brain as remains have been retained.

Calm-J operational.
>>
>>5670700
>Gesture at the pod
Will this do something? I will try
>Try to communicate

"Hi, I'm Tech Bower, I'm a triple-F menial level low-caste worker for AKSG GmbH. Can I help you? We'd just like to take a look at that pod"
>>
Rolled 72, 6 = 78 (2d100)

>>5670714
rolls

I'm also going to bed soon so Fizz should take over the negotioations (or he "negotiaions")
>>
>>5670700
>>he did. He did answer something wrong he would have normally never said yes to.
My God. Ignaz' speech predictor wrongly impleid to Fizz that Ignaz kisses hot babes
>>
>>5670700
>>5670714
Still sore from the rock to the chest, but more at ease now that the robot hasn't fried them both yet, Fizz gives the bot a friendly grin and a wave!
"And I'm Fizz! I work too! We're on a quest from a wizard to find some royalty! Seen any princes or princesses around?"
>>
Rolled 98 (1d100)

>>5670716
Don't worry, Iggy! Fizz is on the case! Adding my roll...
>>5670717
>spoiler
Fizz is awestruck. Holy shit bruh
could Iggy possibly be.... COOL??
>>
>>5670628
>65
Wall has been punched. One fist size hole created in the side of your shuttle.
>41
Attempts to disarm fail. The Older "Strooper" is still quite agile.
>62
But was not prepared to be kicked in the groin by a 9 foot tall giant robot.
>79
This unit is not Priya. Vocal interrogation reveals that the Khalga Asi was gifted the gear from equipment captured by the Dusters and Scrappers in the junkyard sector of Naya Bombay. It was exchanged for labor and support against the Betacorps. While she is aware of "Priya" to her it is mostly a rumor of yet another Corporate project or dead end.
>79
The Sword Priya has is the "Khanda". At a glance it appears to be a standard sword but deep scans reveal that it is actually reverse engineered from plasma blade technology that belonged to an interdimensional warrior cult, brought to the doomed station by accident. While not as efficient as a regular plasma blade, it is also a sword if it stops working, and it gets very hot. Also arguably cheaper to mass produce.
>58
the Ex-Terminus, former boomer, did unleash indiscriminate urban warfare against the Meat Mafia, but was only one man. The gas he had was largely the same gas they used to this day. There was no upgrade to be had.
>24
Your attempt to remove the plunderer from his suit was met with surprise. The Machine was not rubber. Plunder Warrior suits were made of ceramics, and ultra hard alloys over a complex servo harness that granted impressive strength...30+ years ago, when they were already old. The machine was worn out, but not as a child fighting an adult.
>48
The man inside the suit gets the hint and fires off the repeater. There were about 4 other suits that responded. It was arguable if they were worth producing, but the short term boost to the group's strength would be useful. Still, less than practical.
>80
the Termiboomer comes through, and just like the days of old pulls a win out of his ass. By simply disregarding notions of right and wrong with indiscriminate destruction he was able to distract local forces long enough to make off with a 15kg propane tank full of the gas. And maybe a little propane. He even got some accessories.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d100)

>>5670700
>>5670714
>>5670718
This new machine was not as bewitchingly beautiful as 6L, but still quite alluring. It was also just a little hostile, judging by the rock currently lodged in AmourBot's torso. A "tsundere", its secondary processor helpfully provided. Tact and finesse would be needed to woo it, both things that AmourBot was excellent at. Or at least it imagined it was.
"Greetings, fair mechanism! Me and my human acquitances were drawn here by a most bewitching signal - could it be that it was your angelic broadcasting equipment that sent such melodious transmission?"
>rolling to communicate
>>5670717
>>5670720
Fake news... Everyone knows Ignaz is only into Thingamajigs
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>5670708
Running and shooting like a stereotypical redneck was somewhat uncharacteristic for him in his rampage there were moments of lucidity when their..his..its mind wondered what caused this Gun Ho attitude it was quite a mistery until it came to mind the Soda...but it was only two sips that cannot make his body overdrive whatever the case it does not explain the nightmarish visions that came up for some miliseconds. Maybe it truly was just another reason to stay away from the Gal's soda. In this destruction he felt calm his body went on full auto so he had time to "Talk" with his shared mind it was incomprehensible and nonsensical but calming in a way. The Delirium ended when a bunch of metal things came up still dizzy he tried to communicate. His vocalisation was rusty he always tried to talk minimal as possible bit he felt confident.
> EIIH Woth ar yo pepol fendhs o ehemies ith the fomer kon ya taih mey yo Sheen a Gal wo reeeek o bouse an a goy wi' a shock on is ead?

It was embarassing deep down but the warm fruity feeling started to come back so any sense of felt shame is irrelevant the only thing matters is to hold itself back as long as he gets an answer. While in this state he cannot feel anxiety but somehow he was anxious if they were not enemies his simple conscience couldn't handle the toll of Mowing down innocents but maybe if the soda wears off he will forget this.

>communicate (atleast trying to)
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>5668107
>>5669058
2L had been delivered to the nearest Cult meeting spot, which was just the garage of one of the Cult Scions. The light scout craft was just that Cult Scion's truck, too - this must really be a backwater branch, the main branch would have garages AT LEAST twice this big.
As per the rules of the Great Symmetry, every action has a reaction, and every favor has a price - so before 2L can return to it's life of organized violence, it must pay the Cult back. Most likely with intel, given it's not in any shape to do much else than talk.
Right Leg and Pelvis are shocked that Left Leg was the member of a cult, of all things. But perhaps it is better to tolerate this development for now - at least until they have a few more bodyparts on their side...

Rolling for:
>what intel 2L can give the Cult(about anything 6L might have seen that is of value to them, not just things related to the tower)
>>
>>5670716
>76, yes. 6, not so much.
The machine watched raptly as the unusual metal and cloth man gestured very thoroughly at the royal salvation pod. Perhaps these were the ones? Its language was indecipherable without any lips to read.
>>5670717
>>5670720
It turned out that Ignaz had indeed kissed a lot of hot babes, and umm..drove a monster truck (sized dump loader)...and..uhh...and even once wrestled a bear; though later genetic testing revealed that it was a mutagenic man masquerading as a bear, but that is another story for another time.
>98: to 100
Fizz just babbles on and on. and on. The foreign robot watching raptly as she talks, cataloging noise to mouth forms, patterns and cadences. Syntax. She was sent by the WIZARD, the very wizard himself, to rescue the Royalty. Relief. This tired old machine could complete it's last and most sacred duty of protecting the royal line. Long may they prosper in this new dimension. Quickly marching over to the pod, it wrenches free the lid and grabs a small sphere containing what appears to be a fetus of some kind. This is shoved into the responsible hands of Fizz, and with a salute the custodian robot returns to it's final place near the pod. It would now self destruct to convince any pursuers that there were no survivors, and close this dimensional rift.
>>5670732
>8: Pity fuck.
The old custodian observed this small haphazard machine trying to get it's attention, unaware of the impending destruction of this area. It kept returning like some sort of small court pet each time it was set in the bushes. Finally the custodian noticed, it's greeting rock had damaged the thing's shell. Its poor quality shell. Prying the rock out with the utmost care, the lesser robot was carefully repaired. Metal pryed and pulled into place, fused and welded together once more, and even slightly optimized. The Custodian was a bit of a perfectionist, and well, why not enjoy one last go. A cleaning laser burned away old paint and filth off the robot and then with a pat on it's head unit, it was sent away. It would never know the unrequited love expressed it's way, and the ArsonBot, would always have the one who got away...and exploded. Probably because it couldn't handle the stimulation or something.
>>
>>5670733
>65: oh no he was from Norfolk.
The cube like robots looked at him, then one another. 1C...3C...like Limbs, but Cores? He had never seen machines like this, not on Venus, and not on any media he had watched in the long hours sitting inside a broom closet when he still worked for AKSG...before the changes. Sometimes after the changes.

Still, they were pleasant enough., and didn't seem to mind his momentary PTSD induced spree of frantic shooting. After a bit of back and fourth, they gradually came to understand him about as well as any L-series would. While they didn't exactly help, they also were not going to hinder. With a friendly wave and a pat on the back, they left him.
---
Back at the Lighthouse, an array of Core series robots kept coming, socketing themselves into the walls like bricks. ["Yeah man, its cool. The dude said we could come."] The tower gradually connected to each of the machines in native fashion. The royal keepers were home and awaited their next duty.

Idle electronic chatter floated between them. ["So get this, they designed the machines from the limb first." ... "So some sort of Leg iterative design?" ... "yeah. freaky."]
>>
Rolled 31, 75 = 106 (2d100)

>>5670744
Woah. Just...

WOAH.

Still processing what just happened, Fizz is, for the first time in her short and pretty insignificant life, speechless. Though the odds were set against them from the beginning, she, Iggy, and that perverted ArsonBot she just noticed had completed their divine quest: the royalty was rescued!

Huh.

Sticking her tongue out in thought, the sprawler gives the orb containing the royalty a few idle pokes. She could almost swear the thing inside was watching her.

Turning to Iggy for aid, Fizz immediately reconsiders when all she gets out of him is a dull stare. You'd think a guy who had kissed so many babes would know a thing or two about handling kids!

Well between the tech dweeb and the sexbot, Fizz ultimately chooses to hold onto the wee prince/princess herself. Maybe it was something in her feminine nature to nurture, perhaps she was goaded on by her own absence of a mother figure and a drive to do better, or maybe she just thought her companions would drop it or try to light it on fire and dryhump the orb.

Whatever her reasons, Fizz watches the silent protector make its way back to the pod. Perhaps, she thinks to herself as it begins to beep and whir, perhaps this is its home...

Home. Funny stuff, that.

Not wanting to bother the robot any further, the girl cradles the orb close to her armored chest and twirls around towards the direction she's pretty sure she and the others came from with renewed vigor!

"QUEST COMPLETE!" She announces as she pokes a triumphant finger skyward to mark the occasion! "Now let's get this tyke back to the WIZARD! C'mon, robot!"

Certain that the bot and Iggy would follow, the girl trots off on her nifty robotic legs towards the beacon of the tower. Surely they'd learn more once they returned!

Rolling to:
>Head back safe
>Try to communicate with THE ROYALTY
>>
File: thing.png (8 KB, 280x178)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
Rolled 79, 48, 2, 1, 58 = 188 (5d100)

>>5670875
>75: Comm
Fizz giggled and jiggled the orb, talking to it, walking along and fully oblivious to the destabilization around them. The orb for its part seemed to actually respond. It wasn't really warmth, no. Vitality almost. It flooded out in comforting pulses, and with it pops and bursts of ideas. Things without shape but full of optimism and hope for now, for the future. Ideas of simply "Good." She knew that it wanted to be "real." more real than it was! It needed a place, a safe place, and it needed custodians, more than machines. It would need so much.
>31: Safety
Heading back safe was not really in the books. This dimensional bridge was collapsing the reality that was, soon to be no more, vacating the space. Left behind, a yawning void. Looking down was an immediate sense of "Below." Not another dimension, no, a space between; its profanity momentarily exposed by the absence of another. Leviathan shapes lurked in there, down there. Swimming as comfortably as an ocean, a million stars...no galaxies. It was teeming with life. The barest fraction of the Jovian bleed...

From that other place, the smallest mote crept through this crack in reality, be it ever shrinking. The mote, it was not friendly, nor kind, nor to be reasoned with. It ripped at the air, but just as easily ripped at the party.
>Attacking: Fiz, Ignaz, and ArsonBot, rolling to see if SG makes it to the party, and if Thingamacrab can deusexmachina once more.
---
>>5670741
>90: Intel
The cult learned of the dimensional bridge, of the temporary rift left in it's wake, and of the lighthouse. It told them of these new adventurers, in ways a 2L can: statistics, video replays, probing sensor data, credit scores, and pornographic viewing history. The cult knew uncomfortable truths about these individuals.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5670928
"Hey, back off and get your OWN QUEST!"
Stowing THE ORB into her pocket, Fizz decides to (depending on how much this thing wrecks her shit in the first round):
>STUNSAW THE BEAST'S ARMS OFF!
>>
File: 21324.png (12 KB, 409x239)
12 KB
12 KB PNG
Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5670928
Hey would you mind? We're very busy with this mysterious orb at the moment, so we don't want whatever it is you're selling, OKAY?

Rolling for:
>crushing the alien's windpipe with AmourBot's new upgraded arm
>>
>>5670928
>pornographic viewing history
So this "Ignaz Bower" is into KISSING HOT BABES, huh... The cult will remember this...
>>
Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>5670928
This dimension stuff is wild, I thought something just fell from the sky!
ROlling for Ignaz, using the gun.
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>5671042
>>5671037
>>5670964
Okay, rolls seem very bad. If we all seem to be in danger of dying, Ignaz will try to activate royality to help in some way. Is there an opening in the orb? Can he throw in something? He's still got the Trooper's toe that wouldn't attach to his foot!
>>
>>5670928
>1, 58
SG was not be found, too far away, and busy with his own trials. The Thingamacrab was on point...
---
>79 vs 50, 48 vs31 and 2 vs 38. -69, very sexy.
Fizz struck first, apparently hesitant to use what was clearly a very cursed grenade launcher, despite it probably being the better choice for this moment. The stunsaw was batted aside by the interdimensional beast, breaking the beloved weapon. It's unknown claws were hard enough to strike saw blade with no ill effect, but it was enough to distract it for a moment while Ignaz shot the thing at near point blank, and it was not much damage. Using a touch of luck, or maybe fate Ignaz summoned the Thingamacrab. It was apparently shadowing the team all along, like a good robot. Not a shitty robot like some OTHER robots. Leaping majestically at the alien, it fell into the rift. Realizing only one hero could save them, the former ArsonBot deployed it's ultimate attack:

AutoRobotic-Asphyxiation. The much improved AmourBot's extendable hydraulic grasper and began to choke what passed for life from the alien. It wasn't enough, but it did pin the creature and occupied the slashing talons. The alien was thrashing horribly, screeching in some pain at an unseen assailant, only for Ignaz's camera feed to pick up on the Thingamacrab sensor feed. It was in the hellspace, ripping and tearing at the legs of the alien. Just it's legs. Maybe it's gonads. But probably not. Yeah, that was not what was happening.
---
Ignaz: Feel free to shoot again, or command the Thingamacrab to escape and come home, or detonate, buying the party time.
AmourBot: Roll for "Full throttle" twice the grippers, twice the choke.
Fizz: Sorry about the saw, Go ahead and shoot that sucker in the head. Or dont. ya know...go with your heart on this one.

1d100 for it all. It is a bit of a boss event. even if the boss was immobilized in rift, and unable to really kill everyone horribly with great ease.
>>
Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>5671064
This is the thingimacrab's moment: detonating!

(also you forgot to add my bonus to my shooting)
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>5671064
Never 'saw' that coming! I don't wanna tempt fate, but if this is a boss fight and Thinger's boom attack doesn't work...
>GRENADE!
>>
>>5671080
Fucking D'OH
>>
File: choke.png (99 KB, 1266x688)
99 KB
99 KB PNG
Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>5671064
>>
File: Calm J.png (4 KB, 373x345)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5670689
has he now
>>
File: Calm J.png (12 KB, 555x650)
12 KB
12 KB PNG
Rolled 88, 31, 3 = 122 (3d100)

>>5671064
The newly formed TITS team, now with its youngest member as its leader, gets back to work. The abrassive style they are used to did not work to put it lightly, so they are going about it in a more indirect manner this time.

'Gooey' H will look for a meat mafia member well connected enough to give information (First roll, also dependent on if Spec-Ops actually goes along with playing a part in the team)

'Calm' J will try to kidnap that person for interrogation to get information with which to strike against the heart of the Meat Mafia. (second roll)

Young D will run interference, just ensuring that nothing catastrophic happens (third roll)
>>
>>5671073
>93:boom
Thingamacrab was not the brightest robot, or even the best, or best put together. But it had conviction in spades, and it had a body made of junk and meat and spare parts and a dangerously unstable reactor core!

Some people leave long speeches or final acts of lingering sentimentality. The Thingamacrab left a pocket of lingering radioactive particles and a flash of light that temporarily blinded everyone observing. For the alien, it was now quite dead.

>>5671080
>6:Critical Bloop.
Unable to really know what was going on, Fizz fired off the grenade launcher and everyone involved would likely attest the thing was cursed. Instead of a round coming out, the device detonated in her hand and reducing a once perfectly servicable limb to what resembled raw pulled pork hanging off the bone. The little orb in her pocket shuddered in response to the trauma.
- 1 grenade launcher.
- 1 hand.

>>5671161
>66: that image, I lol'd.
AmourBot's death grip on the alien allowed it to haul up the ruined torso, arms, and head of the alien and with it the rift closed. Never know when you need half of a dimensional horror.

>>5671254
>Perfection. Any missed roll by "Calm J" may be rerolled by either player who's characters make up the sum of this being. Criticals stick in place unless a counter crit can be rolled, and I will always take the higher of the two rolls.
>>
>>5671279
Ignaz will try to catch and keep Fizz' hand. He drags girl and robot out of the smoking debree, orb secure.

>Any missed roll by "Calm J" may be rerolled by either player who's characters make up the sum of this being.
just a small point, that was just sloppy filenaming, the unit is actually H, formerly private, now gooey. Speaking of, any mechanical upgrades for L-tech-outfitted J?
>>
File: Royality.png (2 KB, 324x349)
2 KB
2 KB PNG
>>5671284
>>
>>5671279
"Hey Iggy," Fizz begins with a dry chuckle as her erstwhile adventuring buddy drags her away from.... whatever they just faced.... "I could use... a HAND. G-get it?"

Inside she was screaming her dang head off, but there was no way Fizz was going to let her optimism slip, especially not in front of the Tech. Cradling THE ORB close to her side with her non-hamburgered limb, Fizz inspects the passenger inside for any sign of distress or damage.

"Don't worry, your highness, everything's gonna be just peachy, okay?"
>>
>>5671279
By the time everyone could see again, the immediate rift had closed and the sky was looking decidedly more Venutian. Fizz had managed not bleed out by virtue of some of her earlier "Therapies". Ignaz had flipped up his helmet's display visor to get a look around, and AmourBot was still strangling the corpse of the alien, perhaps in rage at the loss of it's love. The lighthouse wasn't so far away, and maybe it was a good time to wrap this up and get some rest.
---
Scorned guy was at a loss, he had arguably done good here. Allies in the form of the "Core" series machines were further renovating and expanding the Lighthouse, making way for the "Royalty". To be honest out of everyone, he felt the most out of the loop with this group. At least he had a room to sleep in, and that was something.
>>5671275
Gooey manages to interact with the meat mafia much easier now, they do not recognize her as a human in the least and even give passing comments of "absolute freak show" and "Sack of pulsating goo!". It wasn't overly hard to start socializing with the flesh wearing machines and soon found a few of them to be quite chatty.
>Gooey is now involved with the outer circles of the Meat Mafia and may do work with them.

Calm J's attempts to kidnap someone connected enough goes poorly, as a hydraulic arm punches through the shoulder of her query. This method of kidnapping was very overt, but worked. The downside is this individual will probably not survive long.
>Please ask 3 questions, and roll for each to see if you get useful responses. You can ask the same question up to 3 times.

Young D takes to the streets to shake things up, and be a distraction near each of her party members. Now, being that she is on this forsaken team, of course things go wrong. She was however, experienced by now with absolute fucking disasters, of which having a hit man sent after her in broad daylight was...one.
>>
File: Marauder.png (8 KB, 175x315)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5671309
Roll 1d100 to escape or fight this thing.
>>
Rolled 89, 30 = 119 (2d100)

>>5671309
Now that we're back at the tower I figure Fizz should start by tending to her arm. While she does that she can also ask that voice she heard back when she was drunk what to do with THE ROYALTY
>Rolling for arm options!
>And communing with THE WIZARD
>>
File: 1658961425160889.png (77 KB, 1780x1200)
77 KB
77 KB PNG
Rolled 4, 21, 47, 80, 27, 15, 10, 83, 73 = 360 (9d100)

>>5670725
Hmmm, so the Terminus' descendants are among the local normies? Surely that giant hooded and well-endowed figure that CEOBot saw on the street wasn't a domesticated Fujo? Time to take a CLOSER look among the local population, and find maps of this godforsaken land to check other settlements too.
>Crash into a local pub in search of Terminus' further-down-the-line descendands in flesh and bone
From what I understand, the place has them walking about, but they all look somewhat different from each other and strayed from the originals too. CEOBot is looking for individuals the most resembling the original clone formulas. Troopers, Fujos, Boomers, Lego berserkers.
>Shame Khalga Asi
>Force Khalga Asi to wear the best powersuit and make her aid CEOBot in search, but on her own
Put in suit. Send on same search, but on her own. Grug don't know why sentences hard.
>From the people they find, see how many are close enough to og clones to be reformed
Then
>Get information about nearby settlements
>Give boomer most of the gas, accessories and a stolen motorcycle and send him to nearby settlements to look for THE bear
>Analyze the Funny Gas with Khalga Asi
>Analyze the mecha suit
>With Khalga Asi's first-hand experience
>>
Rolled 11, 51, 92, 68 = 222 (4d100)

>>5670928
The Cultist feverishly scribbles down notes, seeing the telltale signs of a dimensional rift amidst 2L's sensor readouts. An untamed rift, right under their noses... The Great Scion will be pleased about this. "Ignaz" and "Fizz" might receive another guest sooner than they expected...

2L is free to go, for now - until the Cult needs its services, or it needs theirs again. While Right Leg and Pelvis might want to deal with the cultist in their midst(or on their left specifically) as soon as possible, walking to the body shop one-legged would be a huge ordeal. So, it walks two-legged to it's go-to place, Xu Xjha Kokku's Pork Parts n Ramen, Nayambei's most refined, peak robot shop and ramen restaraunt, which would be a thoroughly mid robot shop and ramen restaraunt were it anywhere else on the planet. The parts here almost always have licenses and some even have well-written resumes, and the ramen only has stray wires in it on the most rough of work weeks. There aren't even any holes in the walls or windows!
2L enters as it always does, knocking the door off it's hinges and narrowly missing the guard, who is used to this kind of shit. The teenage cashier doesn't bother looking up from his digital porn magazine. The elderly owner, who is sitting in the walk-in kitchen and applying a gaudy paintjob to an arsonbot with highly toxic spraypaint, briefly scowls, before forcing a smile, a lot less genuine than a moment before.

Rolling for:
>purchasing parts for arm 1
>purchasing parts for arm 2
>parts #3, torso, head, miscellaneous doodads
>fate of that scoundrel, left leg
>>
Rolled 88, 52, 89, 57 = 286 (4d100)

>>5671310
fleeing this thing because D's confidence is at an all time low.

>>5671309
How do you make your money?
Where is your head quarters?
Where do you get your money?


Does Calm J's enhancement have any mechanical consequences?
>>
Rolled 100, 59 = 159 (2d100)

>>5671309
...Well that's enough strangling this poor unmoving man with a poor skin condition, AmourBot decided after several long minutes. Sure, the loss of the Thingamajig made it feel that new emotion of "grief", but it was largely overshadowed by the joy of feeling a new emotion and the joy of cutting loose and choking a bitch, like 6L's former head always urges it to, somewhere at the very tail end of its background processes.
...And besides, that Thingamajig? Kind of a "yandere", and not even that pretty. AmourBot can do better than that. Maybe visible proof of its heroic feats would help it charm more cultured mechanisms - it should mount the alien on the wall of it's room, as a trophy.

Rolling for:
>AmourBot's carpentry and taxidermy skill(attaching an alien carcass to a wall like one of those moose heads hunters have)
>>
File: 1684806451402533.png (11 KB, 477x430)
11 KB
11 KB PNG
>>5671333
NAT 100 ON CARPENTRY LET'S GO BABY!!!! WE'RE GOING FULL JESUS, CARPENTER OF NAZARETH MODE!!!!
>>
>>5671316
Fizz may
>Go to town and get a biological replacement or low grade robo prosthesis (1d100)
or
>Throw the remains of her broken sword and what not into the basement pit to see what she gets. (Roll 1d100)
---
>>5671326
>11: The arm was....was it fucking wood?
>51: Bog standard arm, maybe a little rusty and dented...and missing a finger.
>92: The kindly old man heaves a pile of robotic parts onto the table "Ah. yes...just got this in today." The unit is listed as a "1C" and has a head already on it, as well as a bunch of silly little things like pop out sensors, electro darts, and a tiny flamethrower.
>68: The left leg wasn't trustable, but wasn't irredeemable. It swapped out with a much more loyal leg, ol' Pinkey. There was a high probability that ol' Pinkey was actually the exact same 1L but spray painted a gaudy pink by the shop owner.
>>5671328
What D lacked in confidence today, she made up for in survivalism. That thing was clearly a murderer, I mean did anyone fucking see it? Plus all she had was a hammer, and it had a knife and axe. nope. nope. D chose to survive today, and gained (+5 on future rolls regarding evasion or retreat.) Perhaps one day she would live long enough to be old D.
---
The individual being questioned bled, spurted hydraulic fluid, and crackled with smoke and electrical sparks. 52, 90, 57
"Make money? Biomass, contracts, keep the peace. Collect the debts. Headquarters? Don't got one. Buildings are for normies *Cough cough* fuckin' normies. Get money? Everywhere. Anyone. Tolls, taxes, jobs...the dirty work."

The cyborg promptly shuts down, or maybe dies, its hard to tell.. Still You have gained experience in interrogation. +5 to future rolls on interrogation if you remind me.
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>5671374
>THE PIT! THE PIIIIIIIT!
Oh God here goes... POSITIVITY! OPTIMISM!
>>
>>5671374
Okay, pocketing the guy's fleshy apendeges as a trophy.

[trophy count:1]

Next, looking for a medium sized toll station where TITS can find a few loitering Mafiosi (roll 1) and then fucking the place up (roll 2 is H, roll 3 is J) while D again takes the roll of making sure nobody dies (roll 4, +5)
>>
Rolled 43, 88, 78, 100 = 309 (4d100)

>>5671382
>>
>>5671384
NOW I start rolling well when I am gay and cautious
>>
Rolled 68, 50, 36, 81, 85, 85, 28, 38, 32, 42, 7, 15, 58, 42, 84, 85, 43, 83, 77, 47, 66, 98, 95, 26, 93 = 1464 (25d100)

>>5671385
the dice forspoken
>>
>>5671333
>>5671345
<I'm fucking laughing at work. Promotions.>
AmourBot turned out to be a secretly gifted Carpenter, perhaps one rarely seen in a generation of robot carpenters. Choosing to mount the alien in the most visible spot, the bar. Now anytime people drink there they can appreciate the greatness of AmourBot, who will surely not change names again to something as absurd as "CarpentryBot."

And hey! Its ability to work with preserving carcasses was also a bonus, now whenever someone died they could be stuffed and mounted for display; so as to inspire a new generation of adventurers!

Anyway CarpentryBot felt a small compulsion to do woodwork in the tower, really nice woodwork and crenulations and other shit like that.

>Roll 1d100 to resist the urge to do master woodworking.
-----
>>5671323
>4, 21, 47
The CEO began his master plan. It started with autisticly walking through the wall of a local bar and using an overtly hostile scan beam to determine nothing in there was relevant to his interests before leaving through the door, which was destroyed by his exit. At what was surely not misplaced frustration, the CEO attempted to shame Khalga Asi. This was not really sucessful, but no one was going to correct the robot either. She did proceed to gear up into a modified Plunder suit. Modified being codeword for "Assembled from all the incomplete scraps of other plunder suits so far found."
>80
The binary search between the CEO and Asi managed to turn up about a dozen of each Clone, either as older clones, or as the descendants of clones. They weren't supposed to be able to breed, but here we are. There were enough impoverished examples to start filling out the ranks once more.


>more to come.
>>
>>5671406
Shaming was on point, it's not CEOBot's fault that pajeet knows no shame.
>>
File: 1684678925535934.png (5 KB, 252x320)
5 KB
5 KB PNG
>>5671374
The wooden arm... Where do you even GET wood in a place like this? [I hath been importedeth] the arm says, in an obviously fake posh accent. How do you even get an accent in an internal data transmission? Whatever, it can move and it has enough fingers to hold a spraycan, it can get to work fixing this mess of a colorscheme.
The rusty arm with an useless hand was quickly derusted, defingered, and welded to a piece of rebar that 2L(now 4L) got at a discount, all courtesy of 1C and it's engineering kit.
The 1C... they spent 70% of their savings on THIS? Sure, it's got a plasma torch, a taser, myriads of sensors, a processor like nothing 4L ever saw before, and even a little compartment for storing doohickeys... but it's all USELESS when the damn thing is a stout pacifist! 4L can't even try to bash a cashier's head in without it piping up to chastise it! What a drag.

4L leaves the store as it always does, fuming mad and with a promise to return and buy more. This time it's got a hand that can flip people off though, so it does that too.
Now standing on the street, at about midnight, 4L thinks of what to do next... It could always just find some bystanders to rob, or maybe join a new merc team, but it'd have to wait until the merc HR office reopens in the morning for that... Could look for solo jobs, or-
Speaking of solo jobs, Right Leg is getting an encrypted call. Sounds like a request from the Meat Mafia, something to do with a trio of human mercs interrupting operations. The payout is decent, if a bit slimy; this job is worth looking into. Just gotta spin it the right way so the other limbs don't get suspicious...
>>
Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>5671406
=>AmourBot: succumb to unfathomable woodlust
>>
>Name: Stanislav Okolvich
>Caste: Mech

The calls for revolution sing over the mountains of Venus! It calls only to Stanislav! On the outskirts of civilization there lives a hermit consumed with insanity, senility, and blind patriotism for a nation that no longer exists.The illiterate deserter and deranged revolutionary lives in his own filth and revels in sending homemade explosives to corporate plazas and urban locales. To hell with civilization! Nothing beats huffing paint thinner and shipping scrap metal pipe bombs to the corp who wronged him somehow, someway, fifty plus years ago, bah! the rapidly growing dementia only fuels the flames of revolution.

He works endlessly on his tools of societal destruction, choking down a fat cigar. disregarding the countless messages that hit his futuristic doo hickey answering machine as he cackles and hums to centuries old operas. You’re almost a million in debt and we will find you? Lies! Several warnings and threats from the corporations that used to own you? Let them come! You’ve become some sort of obscure trend among the youth who read a decades old barely legible rambling and think you’re some kind of brilliant anarchist philosopher? Societal hijacking of the cause! They know nothing of true strife! Like when..
The dementia’s hitting. He can’t remember

But doesn’t care. He’s waiting for the day the white collars trigger the several tons of military grade fucker shredder tier explosives wired to blow beneath his front door. They can come and collect his taxes if they can survive the thousands of nails and shrapnel turning them into pasta sauce at terminal velocity. Until then he drinks, huffs, and welds away within the depths of his terrorist den scrap metal cave
>>
File: poverty mech.png (105 KB, 1058x1152)
105 KB
105 KB PNG
>>5671284
J may upgrade with any assortment of tools, drills, small hand torches or built in weaponry. Just declare what you want within reason, roll a 1d100, and that is how good it is going to be.

You can also go hunting for other L units to cannibalize and I will provide them to you.
>>5671286
nice.
>>5671308
wholesome.
>>5671376
Fizz stood at the edge of the pit, and into it went the reccently amputated remains of her old hand, exploded grenade launcher bits, and one stunsaw. Out emerged a shiny new limb that looked much like her own meat. Except the part where it splits open with a self assembling stunsaw. Sick. A quick trip to town later, Fizz was equipped with her new arm.
---
>>5671384
The team went looking for a medium sized toll station, but what they found was sorta smallish. Really you could call it moderately sized at best. Modesty maybe. The Trio act like fucking thugs and just beat the shit out of the workers, who put up a pretty good facade of being regular workers until their skin started coming off. 4L units. Fucking caught em. "Good thing these guys were robots right, J...right H?" J looked back at D "Robots? oh. Yes." D resolved to take care of her team.
>Gained 2 death negations.
---
>>5671387
Somewhere a guy started farting really hard, and didnt stop, then he died. His family could only look on in horror, realizing their underground vault was sealed. Anon, why did you kill this man?
---
>>5671438
>Gonna need a disguise if you are gonna do some meat mafia work. Now where to find meat?
>>5671439
>2 off from forsaken lust.
AmourBot loves to carve wood on a planet of little lumber, but, in it's heart it still likes picking up sluts, and everyone is as slut waiting to happen when you are as good looking as AmourBot.
>>5671486
It was a good thing he had built his magnum opus, his angel, his killdozer, the poverty mech. Also the heaps big bag of ketamine was inside it. Might as well check that out.
>>
File: fizzsaw.png (6 KB, 160x262)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
Rolled 6, 13 = 19 (2d100)

>>5671534
Almost as good as new! Gonna get pretty brutal if she accidentally triggers it while scratching her tummy or something. Giving the friendly neighborhood Chop Doc and Dance Instructor 'Lefty' a cordial wave goodbye, Fizz emerged back into the city streets with renewed optimism and a SHINY CHAINSAW ARM! VRRZZZZZ!

Life's good.

Having spent most of what she assumes was a day fighting extradimensional horrors and rescuing royalty, Fizz decides to treat some of her new friends to, well, a treat! Lord knows they earned it!

She's also feeling those caffeine withdrawal symptoms again. Time to restock.

>Rolling to find sweets for the Beacon Gang. Maybe cupcakes or churros or something.
>Also to track down some soda. Preferably non-diet.
also jesus christ did Fizz bring the damn Orb all the way to town with her or did she leave it at the beacon oh please god tell me she didn't bring it
>>
>>5671486
Also hell yes Holdout Unabomber Gramps

>>5671286
They grow up so fast...
>>
Rolled 82, 83, 66 = 231 (3d100)

>>5671534
Hell fucking yea death negations (and two of them, I guess on account of it having been a roll of *105*, fucking epic)

J is gonna roll to integrate some of the 4L's systems. They're toll workers and thugs, so I guess the best I can hope for is some stun baton type shit or, if I'm less lucky, just a fucking money counter. (roll 1)

The team will put up an ambush at the toll station to fuck up anyone who would come to check for it (roll 2)

I think a smallish outpost won't have more than what, 4 guys there at most? +4 trophies

[5 trophies]

>>5671549
Ignaz prepares a room for Fizz, optimistically putting a bunkbed in it. The last roll is partly for that and partly to see if FIzz left the orb with Ignaz or if she was dumb enough to take it to town.
>>
Rolled 28, 96, 47 = 171 (3d100)

>>5671438
>Gonna need a disguise if you are gonna do some meat mafia work. Now where to find meat?
What? No. You don't dress up like a clown whenever you sell popcorn at the circus, do you? Maybe sometimes, if you have some sort of fetish, but this is a situation that calls for subtlety. It would be best if both the mercs and the other limbs never realized who Right Leg is doing this for.
...Maybe it'll get some meat later, on its own time.
Convincing the limbs was easy; just rewrite the mission parameters to exclude mentions of the employer and post it up on the nearest AKSG terminal. Pretty weird they would accept it, aren't they at odds with the MM? Whatever. The terminal is easy for the robot to notice since it's the only active terminal around, all the others having already shut down for the night(terminals need sleep too; unlike superior 4L units, which have their limb AIs sleep in shifts). 4L quickly hits accept, and receives much the same instructions Right Leg did about 20 minutes ago.

Step 1: intel
Despite the repeated altercations with them, it is still unknown where the mercs are hiding. First part of the job is to tail them, and find their base of operations.

Rolling for:
>following the mercs to find their base
>remaining undetected(+10 bonus for NOT being covered in meat)
>using 1C's sensors to analyze the mercs(abilities, distinguishing features, etc)
>>
>>5671742
the mercs in 4L's mission are these >>5671275 if it wasn't clear btw
>>
Rolled 91, 46, 5 = 142 (3d100)

>>5671486
“The masterwork! It is complete, glorious day, glorious day. ” Stanislav slurs out through a thick accent and vodka stained breath, hobbling over to the absolute beast of a capitalism destroying mech and climbing inside, nearly falling off the ladder several times. He shrugs off the rampant osteoporosis like a champ and lugs himself inside the cockpit before immediately shoving his face into the bag of ketamine and snorting, the other half of the bag gets crammed in some sort of poorly crafted “fule shewt”.

This bad boy might run off crude oil but the real heart and soul is rapidly burning shitty street drugs. As the engine rumbles to life the old man mumbles words of encouragement to his vessel of death. “Rise my Mashina. My sweet boy, I will drive your fingers into the skulls of these dogs and tear out their tongues. Print THAT on their beels and muh-nee. But FIRST we walk! Walk Mashina!” He pilots the machine outside of the cave, met with mostly barren wastes.

>Rolling for the quality of trip from the ketamine ride he’s about to go on, let’s hope he doesn’t bug out and level a small town.

>Rolling for a weapons test of the Poverty mech and current stability of the machine

>Rolling to see if anyone or anything notices the several foot tall death machine autistically spinning and revving outside a osama tier hermit cave.
>>
File: 1670170650519566.png (907 KB, 1152x666)
907 KB
907 KB PNG
>>5671406
>cries about getting a pityfuck
>won't even finish a TEXT update
>>
File: rippers.png (7 KB, 216x259)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
>>5671323
>27, 15, 10, 83, 73
Attempts to gain information about nearby settlements are poor. Your shuttle lacks the legs to get to them. You would need a scrapper class vessel, or access to 'Nayambe's own sensors; of which you do not have clout or firepower enough. yet.

The boomer promptly tweaks the fuck out on gas and crashes the bike into a nearby settlement. Fuck, everyone knows of "THE BEAR." few have actually seen it. This is gonna take some time, a little more since the broken bike.
>roll 1d100 for the boomer to try and fix the bike.

Testing the gas on the Khalga Asi just leads to temporary psychosis. On perfectly healthy organisms it simply makes them go sorta crazy. a lot crazy. On more sickly, injured, or dead organisms, it starts a cellular regeneration process. On the upside after the berserk frenzy Asi looked years younger once she was done throwing up blood. Asi was being pushed ever towards Kali.

Analysis of the plunderer suit was aided in part to all the spare parts the group had obtained. The way it was built, and it's architecture was arguably more important than what it was made of. It would be possible to manufacture new suits with currently available technology. (what else are you trying to learn about the suit?)

Asi was a deadly fighter with a lifetime of experience. and she was able to put the suit through it's paces and discover the upper limits of what it could handle. Later examination also revealed ways to repair existing suits with currently available parts via stripping out L series robots. The CEO considered new templates for the force structure of the organization.

A more detailed force report came back in regards to former Terminus units. Most of the units were baseline humans. Enough graves had been plundered to recovery "memory chips" aka "neural spikes" which could allow for retraining of a new force. The Surviving original units were happy enough to return to the fold, and a mix of older Boomers, Troops were happy enough to dig out their old gear from storage and under beds. The Fujos were mostly as they were, but more mentally stable, working administrative jobs for AKSG. Those ones wouldn't be so easy to recover, but there were rumors of wild examples outside the city. The Berserkers were the rarest example, considering they were on their way to replacing stroopers in days gone by. Rather than the originals, their children were found, implanted with the mother's cybernetics.
>>
>>5671549
6,13. CRIT - FAIL.
Fizz forgot to take the orb out of her pocket and wandered all over town with "THE ROYALTY". Attempts to get sweets failed as she accidentally activated her chainsaw arm while handing currency to a teller. The scene was particularly horrific as the man's chest was mulched by the saw. Trying to apologize and pull out of him as quick as possible, the saw whipped around in a circle and decapitated several people in line behind her. Thankfully AKSG Reconstruction services would ensure they were going to be just fine. Cybernecks for everyone. All that said, it was time to beat feet and escape while the escaping was good. The murder became a robbery as fizz took off with a box of her preferred drink under each arm, making speed for the lighthouse. Gotta get that baby to the wizard anyway!
---
>>5671712

J looked over her new thuggish tools. They would do good. A stun fist and chain whip were now integrated. There was actually enough robot scrap that some reasonable power armor could be built later.
>83, 82(+5): ambushing.
The team manage to lure in three additional members of the MeatMafia, enough to conclude that while they were highly mobile, they had set figure heads who controlled things. They could either try to shake down some Pimps and their beaters, or go after the Marauder for better information.
---
>66: but I already wrote a result.
Ignaz rubbed his head. How was this lady such a bimbo? The Orb was missing. He busied himself with cleaning up around the tower, and installing additional bunks. This place was a home now.
>>5671742
>being independent contractor allows for flexible morality. The Limbs are the ultimate expression of freedom.
28/96/47
The newly minted 4L has watched several other L robots go into a small toll booth and get mugged by 3 psychotic ladies. They don't seem to have a base, but just maraud around the city. Perhaps not covering itself in meat was wise, because as it approached the booth and paid a toll it remained unmolested. That it was ignored while it stood there preforming a deep multispectral scan was even better. (high roll bonus impacting next result)

The Mercs were all...very obvious. One was infested with a bioweapon and looked like a human sack full of shifting goo...which was busily feeding off the meat of the meatmafia members, leaving cleaned robo-skeletons behind. Which were really just robots. The next might as well have been a member of the meat mafia for how much of it was machine, and L series at that! It seemed that it had been pulling parts off the mugged robots already. The last one, was just a powerfully built woman with a hammer, and seemed to stand off from the other two.
>>
>>5671786
>91
Stanislav had scored some primo ketamine and was really jamming out.
>46
The mech began to chop wildly with its knife, and shoot into the night sky with the laser. High on ketamine, Stanislav imagined himself fighting all his old enemies; but now they had jetpacks!
>5
Fucking everyone noticed this, but they chose to stay away.
>>
Rolled 61, 59, 59 = 179 (3d100)

>>5671959
[8 trophies]
This was the information the TITS were after. J will build some power armour for D with roll 1 and H will locate meat as remotely as possible.

Meanwhile Ignaz is annoyed but will use his bartending skills to mix a non-alcoholic drink for the royal specimen (third roll)
>>
Rolled 62, 88 = 150 (2d100)

>>5671959
Hey, coulda gone worse! Whistling as she ran, Fizz retraces her steps to get back to the Beacon. With luck they could coax an answer out of the WIZARD when she returned... hopefully the wanton slaughter of those people wouldn't bite her in the ass.
>ROLL to make her way back
>ROLL to commute with THE WIZARRRD
>>
>>5671974
fizz gets a text message:

"Fizz you Bimbo don't endanger the royality!
Hope you're safe, I made dinner"
>>
Rolled 2, 13 = 15 (2d100)

>>5671959
While the other limbs were idling in awkward unease at the scene unfolding in the toll booth, Right Leg sent a transmission back to it's Mafia contact, relaying the information about the mercs and their current whereabouts. The Mafia Contact was kinda bummed out about Calm J; she seemed like such a nice homicidal mechanoid on tuesday's cook club meeting, it's a shame she turned out to be an enemy. If she survives to next tuesday, it'll make sure to set an ambush just for her; it'll be sad while doing it, maybe it'll shed a few tears from it's tearduct collection.
But enough about some peripheral side character who will never come into play; it's time to get paid! Step 1 already nets 4L enough for a new part, or a trip to a nice chassis salon, but Step 2 would pay out even more... And for all of 4L's caution, it can never resist the thrill of a kill.

Step 2: interference
Disrupt enemy merc operations to minimize their impact on our activities.

And sure, it says "disrupt", but you know what's the best way to disrupt? Good old fashioned murder.

>>5671971
And look, they're fucking SPLITTING THE PARTY! Everyone knows you only split the party if you want to get murdered super badly! As H departs from the toll booth, 4L follows after. Hopefully by the time she notices it, she'll be too far from her teammates to call for help. Dispatching her should be easy enough if the other two don't intrude; even if she's bio-enhanced, a sniper can't be THAT good at melee combat.

Rolling for:
>remaining unnoticed by Gooey H(+10 bonus from not being covered in meat, -20 penalty from obviously tailing her). Very low roll means it gets noticed immediately and has to fight off all three mercs
>first attack against Gooey H, after getting far enough from the others
>>
>>5671971
>61: The armor J created was servicable, but not a winner in the looks. It mostly consisted of Limb units split open and merged to create segments for limbs. A limb in a limb if you will. The same process was repeated for the torso. Precision welds were placed and D was now armored.

stalking meat wasn't overly hard, it left a pretty overt trail of chaos within the city. Following it outside the city was a bit harder, but H managed to trail it to a set of tunnels which she had little intent of going into.
---
Ignaz made a nice enough drink then dumped it over the orb, which seemed to shiver in delight.
>>5671974
>62
Fizz considered her actions. It wasn't a malicious thing, and hey, they were probably clones or maybe androids or synths. Yeah. Yeah! In the free and clear! A text message from Ignaz broke the train of thought. OH shit dinner!

The way back to the lighthouse was uneventful, her now familiar legs carrying her along at breakneck speeds. Once in the tower she briefly visited Ignaz at the bar where he attempted to make a drink for the small thing. It was an awkward but adorable gesture. The dinner was fried tuber, fermented aquaponic vegetable and animal amino-protein with gravy. Finally some good food. "We got some of it from the rift, so nothing else like it in this universe!" Ignaz offered.
>88
Fizz and Ignaz headed to the top of the Lighthouse, the place where the beacon seemed to reside. The entire structure had changed since they last visited, and there was no obvious door to go up further. With a shrug Ignaz banged on the roof a few times, and it parted open smoothly, being low enough to climb up into. The inner workings of the beacon were a mixture of light, organic flowing metal and liquid glass. It was very much beyond their ability to suss out any technological equipment, granted the thing was alien in the extreme. The beacon interacted with them, wordlessly guiding actions with instruction that was there as if they always knew it. The orb, the Royalty, was placed within the liquid glass streams and the changes started to happen. A large gestation tube grew proud and tall in the center of the room, equipment pushed itself out of the way, merging with walls or flowing into the floor and ceiling as the tank swelled outward to encompass what was easily two meters in diameter, a brief scan from Ignaz's helmet informed him it was about 2.2 yards diameter, or about 10 and a quarter Yellow number two pencils; if we were using Venutian scientific measurements.

The Royalty was within it's chamber now, the same but different. Something familiar to both Fizz and Ignaz. An uncharacteristic mirth, almost joviality, like a little shared joke or secret played through their minds; the beacon the source. "Not beacon. Herald." they both mouthed. "Yes." again, words unbidden. An understanding of the earlier pain during teleportation was now very evident. The Herald had sampled each of their reproductive cells.
>>
>>5672025
>The Royalty was growing, and it now had a family. Below it, a Court, and within it, Court attendants.

>The Herald was already feeding so many new ideas into the mind of the growing Royal, and within that mind, synthesis. New ideas about what must be done, and what can wait. Who it would be. Who it would be? Who was it? Outside the walls of it's gestation tank its donors? But not quite...mother....and...father watched it with curious amusement.
----
Around the settlement of 'Nayambe things were changing. A new power awoke while old powers sought return.
----
-Factions in play

The lighthouse: A common ground for all find it, within it, a room and meal (or bunkbed) for those who are just and worthy.

AKSG (venus branch): The defacto government of 'Nayame. They control everything, and nothing is beneath their notice, but most beneath their care.

MeatMafia: Cyborgs who are robots that use meat to augment their form. They control much of the petty crime in and around Nayambe, but have no central location, just traveling members...and a chain of disturbing clown themed ice cream restaurants.

Terminus: A faction from before the time of 'Nayambe, back before even Naya Bombay, and CEO who viewed death as a "short term work stoppage."

Mirror earth cult: A mysterious faction involved in portal and rift research.
>>
>>5670853
After a Rather weird and painful spree of insanity SG is now clean in mind and continues the Search For Fizz and Sockhead and the Toaster. Joining their wacky adventure party as soome extra limb(s). But first he needs to wake up....
>>5672025
His sense of time was dilated minutes looked like hours and seconds looked like days. He has seen them go by, and even got poked by one...by the strong Sugary smell it was fizz and a Sword(?) He did not know. After a few minutes?...Hours?...Days? He sat up and with a Sad expression walked back to the lighthouse. Maybe he can explain why he looked like a drunk. And maybe they can tell him what he missed....yeah that would be good the collective mind of his and the worms ached. Never again this situation never Again.
>>
>>5672051
>Roll a 2d100 to determine what SG did between here and there. For SG guy there are no bad rolls. 1 is weird, and 100 is cool.

SG looked down at his chest, and saw a little medallion, a token..his mind started to put memories together, like frost collecting around a mote of dust.
>>
File: 1684971565698.jpg (138 KB, 739x415)
138 KB
138 KB JPG
>>5671406
Picunrel. Just had nothing to post.
>Make Khalga Kali run errands to keep our expenses paid (probably not much)
>Rehire everyone willing to come purely for the fuck of it (seeing as we habe no capital)
We will deal with details later
>CEOBot goes on a temp-HQ hunt
>>5671952
Who needs legs, just steal a sexy muscle car with offroad suspension and we're good. Or a ship, because the terrain is very Venus around here.
>Send the new hirees to look for a scrapyard with beeg rusty vehicles just waiting to be restored*
*CEOBot doesn't have a fetish for any type of machinery, any rumors circulating about it are punishable by death as per new company rules.
The gas supply was supposed to keep Ex-Boominus alive for the travel... oh wow. Oh well.
>Boomer die.<
We've spent a long time analyzing the suit. The most important parts seem to be:
>HiTech or LowTech?
>Can the aggressively aggressive scan beam be mounted into the visor?
>Does it look aesthetically nice at all
>How can a regular-ass person even fit inside this giant thing (need diagram)
>Can it punch a hole in the surface of Mars?
Now for an aggravated assault on the local powerplayer
>CEOBot and the Ex-Termiboomer sit down overnight to re-design some of the neural spikes
>Tell Boomers to blow some AKSG shit up from afar
>Troopers use that as distraction to jab some AKSGs with neural spikes to the head
Don't need them as workforce, merely to have rats on the inside and possibly undermine their operations with feigned incompetence.
>If that don't work and shit goes bad, the Rippers come in.
If they are anything like their neurochemically reengineered mothers, just one should suffice to resolve a small brawl.
>Finally, after a busy and youthful day, Khali plops her dusty butt on couch and watches the weather forecast for the next few days...
>ExB crashes the bike into a nearby settlement
Kek, how does one crash a *location*? Did he forget to leave the world map?
>>
Rolled 80, 88 = 168 (2d100)

>>5672025
>>5672031
>>5672051
Fizz was.... perplexed. After the initial endorphins brought on by the alien revelation wore off (which didn't take long given the girl's 99.8% Caffeine Bloodstream), the gravity of the situation hit her like the rocks she and her fellow street urchins used to chuck at passing hovertransports.

The aforementioned royalty was growing, and apparently it used some of her to do so. Did that make her the mom? Did that make the random tech she just met dad? What else would this thing require before this process was done? She'd never known her parents, of course, but alien or not this was an odd pill to swallow. A mom, dad, or even an aunt or uncle would be pretty useful to talk to right about now!

With The Herald going quiet after the reveal, Fizz gives Iggy a slightly-forced grin as she retreats towards the stairs. She's going to go take a walk, she mutters hastily, yea... a walk! Dinner was bitchin, by the way!

It was. She'd never lie about that.

It was almost too convenient: A magical tower that provides whatever the tenant wants complete with a nifty grinder thing at the bottom? Her boundless optimism wanted to believe the tower was purely benevolent, but even if it was, Fizz couldn't help but be somewhat...

Anxious.

Hiding it by humming a jaunty improvised tune, the girl nearly collides with a wall of pale scar tissue peppered with countless holes where blood-red worms darted to and fro. Around the golem's neck was a small medallion. Registering her near-bump, the figure emits a monotone grunt as a salutation.

He was a recon.

"Oh, hi, pal!" Chirps the girl with renewed pep in her voice! "Didn't know there were more people staying here in the Lighthouse! Name's Fizz... what's yours? Oh right, you want a drink?"

>Rolling to make SG and herself a drink!
>>
File: Cull machine.png (4 KB, 351x443)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5672126
>an unwanted guest
A loud clang on the outside of the parked shuttle was a good indicator that they had just hit something. The near geriatric trooper they had recruited who was now doing duty as pilot landed the craft and made his way out to see what was going on. One might describe his screams and hollering as "caterwauling". It did however get the rest of the fleshy crew to investigate. The old man was being pulverized by a psychotic "drone" class robot of impressive build.

Prompt beating with stun batons ceased the incident, to which the Drone was very grateful. The old man was too noisy. The terminus members escorted the drone into the craft where the CEO sat at a narrow briefing table. Hopping up onto the table it scanned the CEO quickly, and a flicker of recognition passed over it's LCD emotive display. Wireless communication carries an entire conversation in under a second. Insults are exchanged, hate is reaffirmed, and an opportunity is expressed.

The AI, Cull, knows of locations out there in the wasts where chunks of Naya bombay landed before the rest of the colony. Further away, too far for this vessel. The CEO would need something...bigger. A true mobile base of operations.
---
Meanwhile, the forces of Terminus set up to execute extralegal directives. Give a crow a enough years and it will build a mountain for itself, one pebble at a time.
>>
File: new units.png (18 KB, 593x418)
18 KB
18 KB PNG
>>5672218
https://youtu.be/ETU90pDtHJE Stray Dog OST - Kenji Kawai - 1. STRAY DOG Prologue

>80: SG.

Fizz reaches through a series of bottles, her cybernetic hand dancing nervously across the tops of each one gracefully. Autopilot was nice sometimes. Her mind went over the events of today, but maybe every day of her life. It felt like things weren't real lately, like there was some big hand just guiding her along. Now this, in the pocket of AKSG, in the pocket of this Lighthouse. They treated her fair right? There was give and take. Sometimes only take, that was how life was though...

It was raining outside, and normally that was nothing to see. but up here in the lighthouse bar, she looked out the window and brushed a lock of hair away from an eye that had been replaced once before. Below it was still dry enough that the dust was kicking up in the wind, dancing with the rain. Soon it would be muddy silt. Life wasn't so bad. She had live long enough to be considered "old" by the current crop of runners.... By the time her hands were done with their mechanical dance a tumbler of softly bubbling drink was pushed to SG.

He knew better. He really did, but it had been a long day. He took a sip, and one of the worms on his arm also dunked a beak like maw into the draught. Before his sense of taste could register anything, and really before his sense of touch, his worms processed many foreign compounds and mild pharmaceutical agents clashing with botanical elements. This one was bitter, the carbonation was actually painful, with a harsh citrus and herbal bite but there was something sweet in there too. Like a memory of something he couldn't quite remember. Rictus and scarred flesh on his torn face slowly, with great effort, into a smile. He sat there in silence, drinking, and smiling. He could smile. that was something. The worms relaxed in his throat, and he felt less constricted for the first time in a long time. "Thanks for the drink." hey, that didn't entirely sound like a moan destressed, just sort of a throat after gargling gravel.
---
>88: Fizz.

Cola and cola and a splash of something sticky and dark, shaken with ice and then stirred but upside down. With just a splash of cola. Again. and again. And Again. The bar's counter was curved, no hard edges, glossy, and somehow just the right height to put her head down. SG was fiddling with the medal around his neck. Felt heavy. The rain was coming down hard now, outside the alien plans swayed in the wind, and sagged under the downpour. Whatever this place was made of did an ok job of keeping out the howl of wind and roar of the rain. The girl was sleeping on the bar. A walk down to the bunks and back, he left a blanket over her then called it a day. Time for some shut eye.

Fizz's dreams were full of places she had never been, and a half-formed entity, like a ball of light but not, trying to talk to her. She wanted to understand , but it didn't make sense. Intense light overwhelmed the moment.
>>
>>5672285
https://youtu.be/RiLmutoRPaM Unnatural City II · Kenji Kawai
[HAIL! KNOW you are KNOWN! KNOW THAT YOU HAVE DONE A GREAT SERVICE!] this dream was loud, LOUD! Fizz rubbed her ears in her sleep, and with that the entity of light adjusted it's volume. [You are an instrument, as is everything that must serve the royalty to it's moment of awakening. Know this, and see..] The dream abruptly was replaced with what was obviously security footage from the store she had been at earlier that day. She saw herself, rocking on the balls of her feet and waiting in line. She saw the clerk and the people she had killed while they were still alive, and then she saw the bloodletting. She saw herself grab the boxes of soda as she took off running. The scene after that was still for a moment as blood simply pooled from the bodies before the corpses began pulling themselves upright; a decapitated head skittered away on wiry legs that sprouted from it's neck, being chased by its body. There is no dream, not anymore. This is more now, and she knows it. [You were not safe, and your gifted limb protected you. The genetic mother of the royalty must yet endure.

Fizz heard the word, Mother, more that she felt it. It was half true, and half a manipulation to ensure she persisted. The voice, this herald, beacon, lighthouse, it was not a cruel sort, but it's mission was absolute. Even as she knew this, she knew it knew what she knew, and sensed sympathy, but no apology. "We are what we are, aren't we Mr. Lighthouse?"
---

AKSG development report.

"Reconstitution program: New model "Recon" units are now either minted as Serviles or Debters. Serviles are not combat capable, but useful in domestic situations, while the Debter; it is modeled after a recent field test that was quite successful in showing that a little extra investment goes a long way in longevity. Shame about the caloric requirements. The misspelling is for copyright reasons, but we are already uploading the schematics to the allied trade net. The recon program itself has expanded out now to include "Complete" individuals and was successfully tested in a dry run with, get this, a sprawler; who continues to provide dividends.
>>
File: Calm J.png (15 KB, 707x665)
15 KB
15 KB PNG
The updated TITS team. Young D is NOT happy with her utilitarian fit, but I think it will do in the battle against 4L
>>
Rolled 45, 93 = 138 (2d100)

>>5672108
>>5672218
>>5672285

After a refreshing drink and with a softened mood he started to tell his misadventures...atleast the ones he remembered. it wa the wild ride staring with runing amok in the forest meeting with the cube robors who are also here at the tower...weird. then after that things become more dizzy but he tried because the wild things only just started there.
>>
Rolled 70, 34, 56, 45, 100, 76, 44, 98, 49, 57, 5, 27, 15, 34, 79 = 789 (15d100)

>>5671406
>>5672126
For fuck's sake where did my dice go
>Errands
>Hiring
>Finding temporary HQ
>Finding a big(enough) vessel
>Die for Boomer repairs
>5 Dice for Powersuit analysis
>Modifying neural spikes to be mind control
>Boomers' terror distr-action
>Troopers jabbing AKSG with nu-neural spikes
>Ripper die if the rolls above fail and violence is needed
>Weather forecast
>>
File: rage.exe.png (18 KB, 600x550)
18 KB
18 KB PNG
>>5672271
Ah yes, nothing the CEO loved more than an angry AI coming back from the grave and thrashing his rusty property.
The sand was traced in, table taken, virus install attempted, attempt at counter-virus has failed, and just when the man-turned-machine thought he would break the Cull's visor for its insolence, it turned out that all he had to do, was say that collapse of Naya Bombay's main Spire was not "an incident", not "for the AI's own good" and not "lesser evil", but simply, that it was not his operation to begin with. Huh.
Threats were at least temporarily put on hold and Cull lowered the stun baton that it stole, to which CEOBot signaled for the snipers to stand down. Cull put the pin back into the grenade it was cooking. CEOBot stopped the EMP burst sequence. Cull revealed it set up a minefield up ahead. CEOBot announced there is a dirty bomb in Cull's oven. Cull provided the antidote to the poison it administered to everyone inside the vehicle. CEOBot had put the gun down.
{What?}
[What.]
{A gun?}
[Yes.]
{You had a gun on you all this time?}
[Does that surprise you?]
{Yes.}
[That's why I had it.]
{BEEP.}
Finally, both machines moved onto the business. CEOBot asked the AI what does is actually want from this interaction. Then, what would interest Terminus in nearly 4 decades old, remains of what once used to be Naya Bombay, that were scorched as they entered the atmosphere? He was there and saw the hellish descent as it happened. What did Cull see at the crash sites?
The gun was fake.
>>
Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>5672290
Waking with a start in a pool of her own drool and a blanket haphazardly draped over her back, Fizz wearily wipes the sleep from her eyes as the nameless Recon continues to growl through what must be some kind of story.

"Oh, uh... no kidding! Gosh!"
Not wanting to seem rude for passing out mid-talk, Fizz gives in to her curiosity as she nods along and struggles to catch up with what she missed.

As the rain continues to batter the Lighthouse, however, her prior words catch up to her:
"We are what we are, aren't we, Mr. Lighthouse?"
That's the thing, isn't it, though? The girl had a pretty decent idea of what SHE was, but the lingering taste of booze in her mouth led her to another realization: she, Iggy, and the bots set out on their quest when they were drunk. Fizz was pretty impulsive even when sober, but something about the way things worked out set off a light in her brain. One that looped back to her original question:

She knew what SHE was, but what the heck was this place? And the royalty they rescued?

Still listening to the Recon's story, Fizz whips out her PERSONAL DEVICE and starts to scour the extranet for clues: 'Royalty', 'Beacons', 'Alien Lighthouses', 'Robo-leg Racing Stri-' err, that one could wait.

It wasn't that she distrusted the tower, of course, but having lived on the streets for most of her life, Fizz couldn't help but want to know a little more about her mysterious benefactor. Thus she tapped away at her device in search of answers!

>ROLLING to find info on The Herald, Royalty, Etc... what is this stuff?
>>
>>5672323
Neat. I like how they've all grown up through their shared trauma.
>>5672328
SG had met with the cube bots, retainers to the Royalty, whatever that was...More of the things kept coming, but these ones knew of him, and spoke to him, and then passed. Each round as he pressed onward to catch up with these new acquaintances of his he found more cubes. Cubes doing fighting...things. Loosing too. There was something inherently just about this though, and he felt it all the way down in his worms. The Cubes, later he learned, "Cores", needed help. He had a big laser, a small pistol, AND a hat that disguised a helmet underneath. He could help. No. He WOULD help.

Breaking away from the trail towards Fizz and Ignaz, he threw in with the nearest fight; the rotary laser was in practice less impressive than a gun. It spun and whirred, but there really wasn't a loud noise to it. The air popped and moisture sizzled as it fired. Oh, and the things it hit got holes burned right through them, that was pretty cool....

...time had passed. SG made allies amongst these Cores, fought with them, and went deeper into the gateway than anyone would have known. This dimension was ending; not his, but this place. Where the cores came from, something had been done which was collapsing the upper and lower levels onto what the locals called "The prime material." When it was complete, there would be no more. "Simple as" they said. Evacuations were ongoing, refugees of means and power fleeing where they could, the others making their peace with annihilation. The lower and upper realms tore at each other out of natural reflex, and the prime was being destroyed...
...Even the enormity of what he saw, all he had met, this journey was one world of one system, in one galaxy, in an entire universe. He understood the enormity of it and felt a distant ache where his heart once was. The worms pumping blood for him writhed in sympathy...

...Time passed differently deeper in, about a year had passed now. SG was on a final mission from the now destroyed rulers of this world. Good people actually. They gave everything they could to send that one sprig of their...everything. It was everything they were trying to send, and it was so pitifully small. The rip they generated sped up their own doom; sloppy and erratic, many of their forces dumped into deep space, or burning stars across a dozen dimensions and times as they calibrated the destination. Searching, homing in on "The royalty". One last gift, one last push; a chance at survival....He knew, because he was the one who launched the Royalty there at the final installation. The reward for service was simply survival, and wonder. Absolute wonder, and maybe sadness, and a small gift bestowed upon him, as the champion of an entire people, who would claim to be heirs to an entire universe.
>>
>>5672328
The truth was, he was champion because he was there, because he was able to move mostly unnoticed by the hostile entitles who saw in a resonance that he did not match. He moved between horrors and watched friends and allies sell themselves dearly as distractions. When it was done, he fled with any who still could, across the gateway, with the Cubes. Maybe others got through, but if they did, he never saw them, and the upper and lower-level entities hungered for them in a way that was something he wished to never again see.

He held the pendent. Yeah. That was pretty cool, and pretty weird.
---
>>5672458
>70
Khalga was efficient in her work, able to always seem to return with assets to keep the small group running. Food, a new body now and again, money. Her demeanor was darkening though. CEOBot brushed it off as d-trooper late stage degeneration. "They all do it eventually."
>34
Terminus was drawing in a trickle of new employees, mostly because they were capable of violence and that kept the worst of the motogangs at bay.
>56
Within the scrapyards, a colossal space ship was found laying on it's keel, nearly snapped in half. It would take some time to get power restored; but this could do. Home sweet home.(roll 1d100 to learn more about it.)
>45
The Venutian landscape was uncompromisingly brutal, and land vehicles no matter the size often were restricted to their local region before terrain gave way to sucking mud flats, expansive canyons, or sheer cliffs and unassailable mountain ranges. That said, they did mind to find some highly fucking suspect biplanes that looked suspiciously like old earth soviet era helicopter and toilet AN-2s with jet engines strapped onto them. A copper manufacturer plate identified the hulks as "WSK "PZL-Mielec" Belphegor mk2"
>100
The ExTermiboomer...maybe ExtremeBoomer, or EB-Troop, was able to recover very well, and displayed insane mechanical aptitude fixing both himself and his vehicle, while going on to flawlessly accomplish his original mission. CEO noted the success and made plans for mass production. Boomers were back on the menu.
>76, 44, 98, 49, 57
An absolutely inordinate amount of research went into the power suit. It was reasonably high tech, perhaps postmodern even; a nice scanner was mounted in the visor and the form of it was tastefully molded to the user, not hiding them under a pile of unshapen armor. It was likely that mass production would require a specific template or type of user, likely something like Asi. These newer suits were about 80% of the strength of the older suits, with the advantage of being mass producible. finally, a new product line.
>>
>>5672458
>>5672126
>5
The new spikes were not mind control, and the old ones were pretty good at behavioral and memory alteration. These things were basically a war crime, causing the victim go berserk with impressive strength before dying of massive organ and tissue failure.
>27
The boomers were doing their best to sew distraction, but were also getting injured at best, violently dismembered at worst. (see below, and above.)
>15
AKSG troops began massacring both Terminus and Civil units around them. All in all, a normal day.
>34
The rippers...were barely enough to hold back the tide, and a few fell in combat being mistaken for heroic freedom fighters fighting against AKSG thuggery. In the end they also fell back with the >classic boomers and a few random d-troops.<
>79
Weather wasn't too bad though. Scattered showers and humidity with a nice cloud cover.
>>5672691
Good lil' dude.
---
>>5672971
>65
The lighthouse was sort of known, but more of a rumor. She was able to piece together that a new "Drop in the bucket" occurred. Its when a group ends up on Venus with something they think is world changing but really is about the same or less important than any other crazy shit that happens on the planet. This brought these new robots called "Cores" and there was frenzy to scoop them up and put them to work. The Cores would go on about "Royalty" until they were reprogrammed which so far wasn't too successful. The best merchants were able to do was stick enough L-series robots onto the things to override their morality and non violence towards "Civilians". A few people reported rumors of some sort of "Beam" piecing the sky, but most thought it was another scam to steal your organs.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5673013
"Gee," huffs Fizz as her ears continue to pick up bits and pieces from the Recon's epic tale of universe-spanning heroism, "What's a gal gotta do to get some info about this place around here??"

Her info-gathering sesh didn't come up fruitless, however... intrigued by the mention of those 'Core' bots, the sprightly sprawler was once again swept up in the arms of optimistic inspiration, Fizz leapt from the barstool with renewed spring in her robotic step!

"Those Cores... if we could bring some back here...!"

Striding confidently towards the Lighthouse exit, the girl pauses as she realizes it's still raining Venusian Cats and Dogs outside.

To any other tourist it would mean a rainy day inside, but to a Venusian Local it just meant some wet feet! Pushing the doors open, Fizz gives the Recon an apologetic grin.

"Sorry, pal, we'll have to trade more stories later! If Iggy asks, though, I'm gonna try to scrounge up some of those Core Bots!"

Braving the storm, Fizz makes a mental note to track down her old RAINCOAT if she has the time during her search-the one she fished out of that cistern a few years back. For now, however, there was work to be done!

>Rolling to track down some CORE BOTS!
>>
>>5673040
>3(Crit fail) Observation

Fizz failed to notice the lighthouse had grown ever so larger, and perhaps it was that it was endlessly shifting that this change was so easily dismissed, but she walked by dozens of chest sized cubes socketed into the wall, and didn't notice the many, many, sensors upon her as she left on her merry way.

Life was short and enjoying the small things was always crucial. Fizz made sure to jump in several puddles on the way back to her old place in the city. Hopefully no one had raided it yet. She would have to grab what gear she had there, and maybe stop by AKSG for a debrief; she did kind of work for them....did she? the meal card said maybe. Maybe a few other things...These ideas were interrupted by a Marauder crawling out of the mud, sensors lighting up visor slots in it's helmet with a bloody red glow while a long pink tongue rolled out of a gash that was passing for a mouth.

Normally marauders were loosely affiliated members of the meat mafia, Archaic things from old times and more common right after the crash. This one though, it was "fresh." New skin, new armor, and it did something new too.

"Yo-u Lo-ook li-i-ike a cUt! of ss-sss-sof-ffft meAt. ArE y-ou!?" Yeah. They don't talk.

Write in an action and dice it up.
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>5673055
"Ha ha! Noooo!" Fizz responds, playfully waving off the newcomer's silly comment, "I'm a human, silly! Just doing the rounds~"

Growing up on the streets, Fizz learned that Venus was like a salad: a whole bunch of different people, bots, and more mixed together, but still unique in their own special way! She'd never met a talking Marauder before, but hey, Fizz had seen all kinds of weird senses of humor in her short time on Venus.

"Say," she adds, "I gotta run, but do me a favor, okay? Could you have a GREAT day for me?"

>Rolling to diplomance and continue on her way!
>>
File: Marauder.png (8 KB, 175x315)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5673066
Roll 2d100.

first roll is the success of fight or flight. your choice.

Second roll is backup.

Low is terminus. you might want to run from them less you be recruited for warcrimes and, well, warcrimes.
Mids is AKSG.
High are the Core robots. the cubes. well...one of them anyway.
>>
Rolled 29, 60 = 89 (2d100)

>>5673100
Geez, dude really doesn't wanna have a good day, huh?
>Rolling to RUN and BACKUP
>>
>>5673101
G-good thing Fizz has a bonus to running, r-right
>>
>>5671965
>>5671786
Hello Brigador, ahem, player. I ask each player what they want. Do you want me to react to you and provide options, or do you want to respond to my results with your own free form and dice rolls? A mix of either is good, but when someone goes quiet I suspect I am not doing my job.
----
The old man cranked up the gain on an antique CRT display, bathing the cockpit in flickering green phosphor light. On it was a list of targets. Targets of righteous justice. Retribution.

What was he trying to destroy, and how well did he do?

give me 3d100.

First is for target acquisition vs what you state, second is for assault, third is for success.
>>
>>5671986
>>5671971
From rolls I take it he following ist he case for TITS: H will probably manage to find Meat after some searching, but before she gets very far, she notices 4L. She confronts him and he is forced to attack right away, with both the other mercs in range. His first attack wiffs, likely due to internal indecision between the body parts. He now is a slightly modified robot against three increasingly inhuman operatives.

Now m y question to QM >>5673103
should I counterroll or does the 13 stand on its own?
>>
Rolled 38, 23, 18 = 79 (3d100)

>>5673114
I think in the spirit of the game I will simply do three rolls.
One is for H to immidiately counter attack.
One is for D to also bonk
and one is for J to use the opportunity and her own 4L-brain-parts (some in the boob) to reprogram 4L to be on their side
>>
Rolled 90, 28 = 118 (2d100)

>>5673127
3 vs 1 is not good odds; 3 vs 5(in one body) is more like it. 4L might not have the numbers, the agility, or the raw physical strength of three angry plus-sized women, but it more than makes up for it in multitasking; if Calm J wants to hack it, it'll gladly launch a counterhack of its own without even a second's break from battle.
And you know, Core, hacking IS a nonviolent solution. So maybe you should get off your ass(metaphorically of course, don't want any sudden body decoupling) and help out for once.

Rolling for:
>hacking Calm J back(Core and Pelvis)
>fighting for their life(all the limbs)
>>
Rolled 98, 96 = 194 (2d100)

>>5673181
4L narrowly avoids being bonked and avoids even H's point-blank shot. The only hit they take is H taking the opportunity to drop her gun and, with the gooey blue of her symbiote (who is not here to reroll sadly) bind in place 4L's right arm. This is not enough to hurt 4L but will give D the difference as a bonus for her next attack (+10). That next attack will be a grapple as D realizes that J is getting remotely hacked, and decides that they'd need a hostage to save their colleague. First roll to pin in place 4L

Meanwhile J's half-human-half-machine mind is intruded easily by the schizophrenic robot, both half-minds too lethargic to resist properly. Within microseconds, J is first paralized and then quickly partially under 4L's control. Partially only because whichever of 4L's consciousnesses is at the steering wheel in the cyborg has to surpress the host's own controling instincts for every action.

>...dang... You've hacked me, haven't you..? I've been bloody hacked. A proper shambles...
>Wiat until AKSG hears of this...
>Who are you? Are you with the meat mafia?

second roll is to get information out of the intruder. luckily, J has a +5 to interrogation
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>5673199
4L might be two heads taller than D, but rule 1 of space wrestling is that size only matters between combatants of the same species, or at least of the same biochemical basis. Unaugmented muscle triumphs over cheap steel and wood, pinning 4L into a spine-crushing bear hug. Luckily, 4L's current spine is made of reinforced biocarbon alloy, but the same can't be said of its arms - with a loud creak, one of them SNAPS, like a metal hotdog in a buff, sweaty microwave.
Rolling to see which arm it was. 1 is wood arm, 2 is metal bar arm.
>>
Rolled 30, 52, 6 = 88 (3d100)

>>5673199
Core, that naive buffoon, pipes up before Pelvis can give an actually thought-out answer.
>[Sincere apologies, miss J. Your mental incapacitation is my least harmful option of serving my greater machine body. Rest assured I will attempt to minimize long-term cognitive damage, even if my body's other components desire otherwise.]
>[This greater body has no definite identity and is as such referred by its category classification, "4L"... And who ISN'T it with? Every limb unit composing this body, including myself, serves clandestine purposes. The one with connections to the group "Meat Mafia" is in this greater body's right leg.]
...It seems the Core unit is capable of bypassing the encryption on the other limbs' primary mission data. Fuck.
The robotic body goes limp as the limbs focus on freaking out. Except the wooden arm, it's not freaking out because it's been snapped in half and is writhing on the floor in simulated agony.
The Core attempts a forced temporary shutdown of Calm J, while the Right Leg disengages from the discourse in order to attempt and steer the hack back towards a reprogramming.

Rolling for:
>Core temporarily shutting down Calm J
>Right Leg reprogramming Calm J(-19 penalty for trying to do it while actively arguing with the other parts)
>how much the bodyparts are bickering
>>
>>5673264
wait J was already fully reprogrammed in >>5673199 right? Then the second roll is just for Right Leg to cancel Core's shutdown order
>>
Rolled 13, 91, 5 = 109 (3d100)

>>5673264
Alright Calm J is probably not able to substantially resist considering the earlier rolls on the counterhack. Ehat she will try to do is give the other two the information that it',s the right body they ought to worry about. This roll has to be above 52 to succeed. If below 52, the leg gets his way, the lower the more he gets his way. If it is below 30, the core may also be able to get some licks in but not to override the leg completely.

Meanwhile, D is gripping on to the suddenly limp body, shouting something like: "It is against company policy to invade a company asset's cognitive apparatus! Desist or risk disassembly!"
I'm not sure if a roll would be associated with that since I think nobody is listening right now l lol. Doing one anyway, maybe you have an idea on it. Meanwhile H will roll to get a better grip on one of the limbs
>>
>>5673269
They roll well only and always when it doesn't matter

J manages to do a funny farting noise.
>>
>>5673268
J was taken over for sure by that roll. I wouldn't say reprogrammed since her cognitive functions weren't changed, they are just being continuously overriden by those of Right Leg. He's in charge of her body, more or less
>>
Rolled 30, 69, 36, 71 = 206 (4d100)

>>5673269
Core decides that since D is gripping onto the body but NOT actively trying to bash it into pieces(although threatening to do so), a peaceful resolution might be possible. It begins to disengage from the data link with Calm J - though there's no telling if she'll be the same.
If Right Leg had a face, and a palm, it'd be facepalming SO HARD right now. 4L doesn't DO """peaceful resolutions""". Tactical retreats, maybe, deciding someone isn't worth killing, sure, but NO PANSY-ASS PEACE. It's absolutely seething. It does the only thing it can in its rage-filled state, and kicks D in the gooch.

Rolling for:
>how much of Calm J was reprogrammed by Pelvis and Right Leg before Core disengaged the hack
>operation "cunt punt"(-10 for internal arguing, +15 for fuming rage)
>whether Pelvis and Left Leg are still freaking out(2 rolls)
>>
Rolled 99, 9 = 108 (2d100)

>>5673276
Calm J has two minds, a human one which had half its brain blown off and a robot one awkwardly patching up that loss. Now, 30% of that Frankenstein's mess has been further mangled, and mangled in a concerning way. The intent of Right Leg had been to turn Calm J against her colleagues, and while only a small oportion of have actually occured, that small part, localized mostly in the mechanical areas of her mind, is an angry, frenzied one.
[added unpredictable berserker rage to Calm J]
[J is back in combat but gets a -10 to all rolls against 4L]

>>5673269
still resolving the 5 from here, H tries to grab on to left leg, which wiggles a bit and catapults H down the slanted roof the group is on. The Spec in her screams, she tumbles down, into an alleyway, where an open man hole gapes, she rolls into it blindly just as a toilet above flushes and the current carries her away from the fight, into the greater under-city sewer system

>>5673276
Meanwhile D gets punted in the vagene for the frickin sex number and reels, letting go of 4L despite her previously iron grip. Rolling how well she takes the pain.

So only a recently revived J is left who activates her stun fist and tries to take 4L out of comission ASAP (-10 from having being hacked)
>>
Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>5673284
D recovers quickly, and again reaches for the robot - only to be sucker punched by her own teammate, Calm J. She tanks the sucker punch too... But will she tank the poorly wired stun fist's explosion? Will 4L and Calm J tank it, for that matter?

Rolling for:
>how big of a boom the stun fist makes
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>5673288
33, not a big bang but not a whimper.

Rolling for 4L, higher than 33 and it both keeps its footing and doesn't get damaged
>>
Rolled 56, 42, 68 = 166 (3d100)

>>5673288
>>5673289
giving J and D their evasion rolls. J's roll is not against 4L, but she is the holder of the fist so her -10 remains. D gets +5's on all her evasions anyway so she gets a +5. If one of them clears the 33 by at least another 20, then they also get an attack in. Otherwise roll 2 and 3 are void. If they get under 33 by at least 20... we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
>>
>>5673290
Alright, so J doesn't die but with the -10 JUST goes under. The explosion obviously rips her fist off and throws her off the roof as well, leaving only D left with 4L, who is now smashing into the robot for a 68 using her iron fucking cunt
>>
Rolled 1, 9 = 10 (2d10)

>>5673292
D slams into 4L, who manages to rotate his body just in time to absorb most of the blow with his one remaining arm. The one with a metal bar, The metal bar that 9 out of 10 doctors recommend to keep far away from brittle human skulls.

Rolling for:
>counterattack with the metal bar(-10 because it's still covered in sludge, another -10 for having just taken a direct hit and one last -20 for Pelvis and Core not cooperating)
>whether Pelvis will FINALLY stop freaking out, c'mon dude it's been like 10 posts(if it stops, the -20 on the first roll turns into a -10)
>>
Rolled 66, 31 = 97 (2d100)

>>5673303
wrong dice
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>5673307
>26 after modifiers since 31 is p low

4L smashes the metal bar against D but her bulky armour made of other 4L units absorbs the blow. She takes to her hammer, activates it's highest setting, giving her an arbitrary +10 for one attack and hopes to fucking god the dice will finally give a decisive result for this loony toons ass fight.
>>
Rolled 2, 3 = 5 (2d4)

>>5673310
Its ass still spazzing out and its arm overextended in a whiffed blow, 4L can only await the hammer's blow... Oh, and also urge Core to finally use its fucking flamethrower.

Rolling for which part the hammer hits:
>1-Core
>2-Left Leg
>3-Arm
>4-Right Leg

Rolling for whether Core will finally use its fucking flamethrower:
>1-it doesn't
>2-it doesn't
>3-it doesn't
>4-it doesn't
>>
File: crippletron.png (4 KB, 252x320)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5673318
This will make 2L's favored strategy of "if shit sucks, hit the bricks" a little more... Difficult. Ironic, because it's time to use that strategy, right now, as soon as possible. Thankfully, gravity can do the job of legs, given a good enough slope.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1n5Q21L_mg

Rolling for:
>"escaping"(sliding down the roof on his ass then hobbling away on one leg and one walking stick)
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>5673321
Having lost her dignity, D gathers up an unconcious calm J, but can find neither hide nor hair of Gooey H. she takes the leg as a trophy and, exhausted, humiliated and at least a little scared, looks for an AKSG workshop to have J tended to. Quality of workshop is determined by this roll (which I give over to QM again)

[9 trophies]
>>
>>5673323
I guess the wooden arm is a trophy too [10 trophies]
>>
>>5673321
Defeated and utterly fuming, 2L slinks, or more accurately clangs, through the back alleys, kicking over trashcans and stray orphans on its way to... Somewhere, anywhere. Those three mercs... If it wasn't for Core, it could've easily bested those buffoons! AND if it wasn't for Core, they would still have their peerless team cohesion, instead of endless bickering! Honestly, can't that idiot Pelvis see that surgical fleshcraft is obviously superior to gene modding? And can't that moron Right Leg see that genetic and metabolical modification is obviously superior to sticking meat lumps together? Ugh!


Thus concludes the lamest fucking fight on Venus.
In the right corner was the killer robot 4L.
His casualties are two arms, one leg, his sanity and his dignity.
In the left corner, the mercenary outfit "TITS".
Their casualties were one sanity, one fist, and their dignities as well.

The winner? I don't fucking know
>>
>>5673337
4L considered it's options....

>scrounge and see if there were any discarded limb parts to repair itself with.
>attempt to use biologicals for augmentation.
>fall back to the lighthouse. Use those stooges to repair it.
>Attempt to commit to the forbidden...going beyond 4 limbs.
>stealing a toiler suit.
>writing in with any other insane idea.
>>
>>5673360
>>Attempt to commit to the forbidden...going beyond 4 limbs.
>forbidden
GM... you forgot this guy STARTED with 6 limbs...

Though right now, it doesn't have the money for more than 1 new limb anyways, so to get back to 6 it'll need to do a lot of work... Ah, prices: the downside of only buying from trusted vendors. Though the only vendor 2L ever visits is not so trusted anymore, what with selling it limbs with ten different agendas.
>>
Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5673360
>self-repair
Using what? A foot, a big stick and a few antennae? This plan presumes the presence of at least one manipulator that is both precise and powerful. Like a hand, or at least a claw.
>biological augmentation
Eugh, no. It'll ruin their paintjob. Also, again, no hands, no repairs.
>stealing a toiler
Again, no hands! How do you steal a power suit when all you have is a leg and an arm that's about to fall apart?
>Lighthouse
Too far, the arm will break before they get there. Although, if 2L were to get another leg... That mission did net it enough for one nice limb. It SHOULD have paid off more, but aparrently the Mafia needs "photographic evidence" that the mercs were sufficiently interfered with. Cheapskates.

Anyways, time for one last trip to Xu Xjha Kokku's. Next time 2L visits this bastard, it'll bring along a big can of space petrol and some matches. And maybe order some parts. If it feels like it.

Rolling for:
>buying one leg(+30 modifier, 2L is spending its whole salary on this)
>>
>>5673337
>kicking over stray orphans
"Oof!"
>>
File: monkeyleg.png (4 KB, 120x308)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
>>5673370
Xu Xjha had an unnerving knack for differentiating robots in this city, knowing who they were. A real shit eating grin was worn as money was exchanged. "Ah yes. For you...something special."

>Gained, the money's paw.

4L grimaced at that. The Limb thought of itself as a stereotypical monkey, complete with a banana dispenser. The upside was that it was incredibly versatile with a dexterous hand for a foot.. The shop even threw in a little service to make the scrap parts a dumb limb good for clubbing, but mostly to balance out 4L.
>>
>>5673422
hello dear players. I am out of town for the next 3 days. I will return, if I can do a mobile update I will. Show bob.
>>
File: 21325.png (5 KB, 384x239)
5 KB
5 KB PNG
Rolled 93, 23 = 116 (2d100)

>>5671439
While 4L was getting beat up, AmourBot was getting wood. Not in that way. In the usual way. It found a patch of forest where the trees were mostly dead, and then punched them until they were completely dead.
Eventually it got bored of getting wood, and decided to get back to its usual activity: getting love. It had two options: machines in the city, and the new robots in the Tower. Actually, three options; the Tower itself was a tough nut it hadn't yet cracked.

Rolling for:
>continuing to decode the Tower's transmissions
>seducing Core-type robots(showing them the crucified alien to impress them; what do they have to say about it?)
>>
>>5673432
Thanks for running, anon, enjoy the weekend!
>>
>>5672994
>>5673011
a ruly wild ride has happened while he was out of his mind if time passed diferently..who knows aside from feelings SG doesen't aged and he has no idea he could ohysicaly age. but looking at his equipment and those were used but not aged so aside from a fever dream like memory splinters and the pendant. it may not have happened. but the cores are here so whatever the case even if his pseudo hive mind cound not remember it happened and this acknowledgement made him happy for the first time of his Recon existence he felt like he is important and not in the lab rat way.

he was lost for a short time in his extra dimensional nostalgia. then he took his helmet and hat, one snake like worm grabbed the pistol while another reloaded it. 8reflexes from the adventure perhaps?) and a few others errupted from his hand and pulled the laser into his arms, then retreated another Adventure Awaits and now he will not get lost again...or atleast he hopes...GPSes are vile things.

>>5673432
okay then
>>
Rolled 8, 98, 36 = 142 (3d100)

>>5673013
*le sigh*
Rolling dice for CEOBot dealing with the shit situation at hand.
>the assault
>the casualties
>the heat
>>
>>5673013
>>5673540
>8
The CEOBot effortlessly deflected the 76 bullets and various-sized rocks coming his way. It was hard to process, that the half-murdered remains of AKSG goons would make an attempt to stop the machine from leaving. It's like they wished for death. Some of the stones got deflected at their respectable throwers and one bullet successfully found its previous owner. [Fucking amateurs.] The CEO commented on the absolute state of the Venutian ground warfrare, but even though there was no threat to his mechanical vessel, he didn't intend to stay around here for long and attract more attention.
>98
He turned back towards the escape car, only to realize that its entire crew was shredded to pieces by the bullets that weren't coming specifically his way. The multiple HDDs in his head grinded aggresively from irritation.
>36
The machine brutally kicked the remains of the driver out of the vehicle, removing the door out of its hinges in the process, then jumped inside and slammed the ignition button with its gold-plated fist. The engine roared, CEOBot got pressed into the bloody seat, something exploded where the car used to stand 2 seconds ago, a swarm of bullets wheezed over the roof and CEOBot managed to grab the steering stick just in time to barely avoid running over some locals, who got mowed down by the AKSG fire directed at the speeding vehicle, instead. He was off.
>>
Rolled 35, 91, 11 = 137 (3d100)

>>5673103
Ah. Got busy and forgot 4chan existed for a few days. Nothing wrong with your QMing dude this is one of my favorite quests on the board rn. Getting some options and having some results after rolling sounds good man.

—-

Riding off the high of a chemical explosion of third world tier ketamine the geriatric tweaker swats away hallucinated foes of old while looking at his shittily put together kill list on the monitor and seething.

The equally geriatric board members and venture capitalists he sought wouldn’t be caught dead out in the middle of bumfuck poor people land. But the company’s influence is everywhere! And it must be shot with the full firepower of a hastily duct taped rail gun.

let’s start broad and aim for anything AKSG maybe a far off office building to test the shoulder gun’s range. Hoping not to fuck up horribly and bisect a farm stead with pure unrestrained energy. The goal is to make a tiny old man shaped dent in their profits.

>Give the rail guns range a proper test and hone in on a distant monument to greed with fire and fury
>>
File: 1665200273775142.gif (774 KB, 432x491)
774 KB
774 KB GIF
>>5674798
QM is on hiatus for ~2 days, just so you know.
I sure am glad this geriatric motherfuck didn't catch the wind of Terminus yet. Not like he could, given we don't even appear as a business in Venutian registry... yet.
>>
I have returned.
>>5673433
AmourBot pondered the exact nature of the Tower, and as it hewed alien wood, it prepared to hew that tower. Something about it had changed recently; subtly. The bot noticed it and began to work overtime trying to crack the encrypted transmissions it put out. Encryption turned out to be a strong word, it was more of a language barrier. Love knew no barriers, and it knew no languages, and it also knew of no word for no. Yes. Love was strong, it was urgent.

Upon establishing wireless contact with the tower, Amour began to touch it's S O U L. It recognized the tower for what it was, Beautiful and strong. Capable and nurturing; and if the tower would just let Amour into it's control room, they could couple their awareness and circuitry for a tender moment....

...but exploiting people with image issues was easy scoffed Amour, and it had a side hustle of trying to seduce the Cores. They were not overly impressed with it's demon corpse trophy.

>Visit the tower
>keep working over the cores.
>do something else?
---
>>5673533
SG was in his own room, looking over gear and himself. He looked into a small pocket mirror, counting teeth, looking at his torn face. Nearby was that can of synth flesh spray... He would need some better stuff; probably. Yeah. No knives. Still some lingering trauma about that. Maybe something to help him stand upright..

>Go to town and try to find some better armor and clothing.
>Fizz kept talking about the magic basement pit. Maybe just throw your belongings into it and hope for the best?
>Touch yourself up with the synthflesh spray, have the worms help.
>Get a robot at the tower to help you with the synthflesh spray.
>Examine that pendent.
>write in
---
>>5674798
Stanislav had his war machine brace itself, and even with that, the experimental rail cannon lobbed mach 5 sabots towards 'Nayambe. It was later in the day and the first one impacted a residential center, exploding a vegetable and fruit market. He used a report from the city's news sources to dial in a better firing solution. The next sabot hit the AKSG HQ complex, cratering a server room. That would cause some chaos for a few weeks, but all he knew was that it was a solid hit on something. The next round flew true and also hit in the complex, leveling a medical research center; but it also caused the railgun to explode, leaving Stanislav with just his back mounted laser.
>Onward to destiny, go out with a blaze of glory!
>Hide once again, once the high wears off you can tinker and calibrate your machine once more.
>Stick to the wastes and fight what comes to you!
>>
>>5673580
>Asynchronous to current events:

The CEO had returned to a base in development. Sparks from welders temporarily lit up rooms with flickering blue light, while other sections of the base were triaged and reinforced. Long dead systems crudely forced back into service, crusty actuators and servos groaned, and warped metal on metal squealed as blast doors and other damage control systems worked once more. Hallways and rooms were opened up, and emergency lighting flickered on where electrical connections remained. It was a shit show, a fucking disaster really, but it was more than they had a day ago.

A small fleet of cargo craft sat outside on some relatively flat ground, acting as a crude runway. Some sort of fucking biplanes. If he still had a face he would have scowled. The Shuttle was parked on top of the base, being attended to by a team of technicians.

One by one, what made up the "Board" came in for an all-hands meeting, and brought their findings, opinions, and ideas.
>>
File: circle of doom.png (31 KB, 699x396)
31 KB
31 KB PNG
Rolled 2, 91, 30, 27, 31, 28, 67 = 276 (7d100)

It's been busy 3 days of moving various shit through the Venutian shithole, but most of Terminus has finally settled in their new Derelict-HQ. CEOBot flicked the light button on the wall.
>Check if the boomers have installed electricity yet
Yeah well, whatever's the case we still have the dwindling supply of daylight and once that's gone - the infrared and thermal vision. The machine moved to the window in its office and looked down below. This shit-tier derelict could eventually collapse from the increased activity inside, so the CEO ordered Troopers to install some structural supports. With Ex-Terminus appointed to supervise unit working on the project there shouldn't be any problems, but it wouldn't hurt to check on the progress.
>Checking the structural supports progress, this con't collapse the derelict, but can collapse supports if roll is BAD
*banging on the door*
[Come in.] The machine plopped down in its steel chair while Khalga Asi walked inside the room. [Right. I'm gonna need you to find a decent combat trainer in this godforsaken dusthole. The new recruits need to be better prepared for their job than the Naya Bombay hordes. We don't have the nigh-infinite-use cloning bays here...]
>Roll for Khalga Asi to find a military/melee trainer for Troopers
The tobot tapped the stack of papers in front of itself. [...yet. Tell me if you need any upgrades in that suit of yours, otherwise you're free to leave.]
After dismissing Asi and not expecting any more disasters this evening, the head of Terminus begun digging through the stack of papers. Nonsense mostly. Bills. Threats. But also test reports on the newest units. Starting with Daughters, who were much less feral than their mothers, but for some reason still decided to join in. Given their inexperience, they were tested with regular weapons first, then their parent's original plasma-based harm-inflicting devices.
>Daughters' aptitude for regular weapons and handguns
>Daughters' aptitude for plasma weapons
>See whether they find interest in grenades
>Determine whether they mind parting ways with the plasma weapons (if they don't, we're pushing them to R&D)
[R&D? That's still in the works.] CEOBot broke the 4th wall and moved to the only individuals who were currently fit for researching and developing things at Terminus.
>>
Rolled 87, 73, 9, 75, 26, 43, 71, 40, 57, 22, 9, 75, 51, 99, 7, 72 = 816 (16d100)

The Boomers. A bunch of new hires from local population, who brought their vehicles, love for sick flips and explosions to the table. After spending a week running pipebomb deliveries during the day and tinkering at night with Ex-Terminus, they were...
>Effectiveness of Ex-Terminus' mentorship to make the nu-Boomers better skilled at... vehicle things
>Effectiveness of pipebombing
>Regardless, roll to see how fit the Boomers are at R&D
...to be expected, really. At least they seemed happy blowing things up. All the CEO had to do was to aim them at AKSG. But that had to wait.
>Pulling my Uno Reverse card and requesting an image for new generation Boomers, squatting
It was getting dark by now. The night-vision switched on and the entire room turned drowned in blueish hue. Next were the Troopers. Not the old Storm Troopers, these were... offspring from original clones mixed in with the population? [What?] The HDDs grinded. They were supposed to be sterile for a reason... oh well, it's not like the current local genepool could get much worse. The reports said were mostly just given their old equipment and some "found" rifles to see what they can do.
>Roll to see how many Storm Hammers were recovered
>The Troopers reactions to the old-gen bikini armors
>Their skill with melee
>Their skill with rifles
>Roll to determine how many Troopers are violent like the old ones were
>Roll to see how many have potential for laboratory work
[Last ditch effort. We really need brainiacs who didn't almost drown in motor oil as children.] CEOBot slowly raised his faceplate above the little sea of documents sprawling over his desk and decided it was time to leave the derelict. On the way down, the machine barked more orders at the Boomers.
>To use the botched neural spikes as shrapnel for grenades
>Test them on whatever they find in the dunes
>Make those biplanes function on Venus. Any way possible
>At least try to make them look good
Once outside, the machine was once again on a hunt for old "employees" and information.
>Find Fujo
>Find Blin
>Look for cloning bays or something.

Posted from my iPhone.
>>
>>5676767
>Khalga Asi
"We have been recruiting from the local population outside of 'Nayambe aggressively. Current composition of our forces mostly resembles something of a generalist between the "Trooper", "Duster", and "Boomer". They are doing it all right now. A lot of the legacy forces, D-troopers brought out of retirement, have took the brunt of our combat operations and are running thin. The new generation has been held back, getting trained, and taught object lessons from what combat has occurred...They are ready for further development."
>Focus on combat and utility. Ready the power armor and implant production lines.
>Continue using these people to recruit more wastelanders and their assets, see what secrets we can find.
>she sighs before continuing. "its insane, but look, people keep saying they've seen a bear. The Bear. We'd need to cast a wide net to find it, but we have the bodies."

>Purge AI
the AI initiates its tradition of show how it can kill everyone in the room, and in turn is shown how it will be killed by everyone in the room. Eventually a nuclear device was disarmed. It was not fake. Not wasting words, the AI shows history. There is a location that holds a chunk of former Naya Bombay.
>It was a large scale cloning and protein synthesis facility.
>It was an AI core and high level corporate research center from the hectic weeks before the collapse of the central spire.

>ExTerminus
The weathered boomer took off his face mask in this company. He was both youthful and old, vigorous and desiccated. His skin had a strange look like it was waxed leather. A face cratered with dried red wounds that no longer bled stared down the rest of the board. That voice just didn't match the looks. Dry and tired, but still young. "I've been leading recon elements into the surrounding areas. We have a few things that might interest you." a stack of papers. fucking paper. is placed in front of you for review.
>Some "shards" of Naya bombay could be cannibalized for resources to get this base in order, but it would require the full attention of the biplane fleet.
>Exterminus could start training up a new crop of units, teaching them survival and scouting, but again, the plan would need the fleet.
>The biplanes could be stripped for parts and made into a singular craft capable of longer ranges and limited bombing activity; but it would be a while.

Pick and roll. As long as they don't conflict, just go nuts.
>>
>>5676772
>2
Boomer attempts at electrical restoration were...very bad. Very, very, bad. Several smoking corpses now decorated the halls, and a few showers were known to be death traps. Many people carried a chunk of rubber tire or some other insulator in their pocket, just to turn on switches. There was real fear of electricity. The crew ended up not trusting boomer engineering, considering they were masters of sabotage it was possible this was just accidental subconscious behavior. (ship subsystems were restored instead.)
>91
The horde of recruits were handy with welders and managed to shore up any risks of collapse in short order and make this derelict something sort of livable. It would turn out a lifetime of working with nothing but scrap and a handbook of OSHA violation examples for training sorta worked here. Worked really good actually.
>30
The remaining old guard were, well, old. She set about the task of training the hordes herself, which would be slow going until some students emerged that could be put into roles as trainers.
>27, 31, 28, 67
The CEO would have pulled off it's own face by now. The reports coming back from the daughters were frustrating. they displayed low aptitude levels towards regular weapons, handguns, and grenades. They were, however, skilled with their inbuilt plasma weapons, and were happy enough to support further development of them.
>>5676774
>87, 73, 9
This new generation of boomer quickly began to resemble the old ways, down to a reckless instability when developing new things. They were in short, back.
>75, 26, 43, 71, 40, 57
Recovering over engineered storm hammers was not too hard. Most of them were laying around in tool sheds or scrap yards, and traded for a fairly low sum of scrap. It would appear most locals never figured out they could be recharged and just thought them to be oversized sledge hammers.
The Troopers didn't seem to care for the bikini armor, but some wore chunks of it like amazons over their existing jumpsuits. Melee skills were below average again, but this just simplified the process of ramming everyone with a pulse through a standardized program. Some sort of crash course in hitting things would have to be developed. Unexpectedly, they were competent with rifles and were competent as mid range assaulters. Must be the D-trooper genetics. Maybe it should have been a surprise, but this crop was more mild mannered than their predecessors, and sort of capable of basic maintenance and engineering work.
>22, 9, 75, 51
The "neural grenades" were a cool idea, but the dunes were lacking suitable targets. They tried to blast some "feral" L-unit machines, and even managed to tag a plunder warrior through the helmet, but that was a disaster. It turns out a power armored berserker with a ship grade e-shield is...just not great to fight. They had to retreat in short order and decided that neural grenades were not worth the effort.
>>
>>5676774
the biplanes were crusty but rugged. Getting them into good condition wasn't hard as they just started duplicating what technology they could from the shuttle and slapping it onto the planes. The boomers seemed to be influenced by some videogame from ancient times "Jets and.."something. The title was pretty corrupted. Still, they did manage to cut, weld, and paint the planes to look pretty ok.

>99, 7, 72

...They found the fucking Fujo. Not the ones working desk jobs in the city, and not the mindless ones running around the wastes. They found the original fucking thing. It had been...growing, and through its drowning, cracked, and distorted and breathless voice it greeted the CEO "ara. Hello...again...boss"

Blin was not one to be found. He found you. Presently Blin was rampaging through the food storage and kitchen areas of the new base, and had maimed or killed enough of the recruits to start an appreciable "Recon" team.

>something...

Exterminus had partnered with CullAi. What they found was an abandoned facility, sort of sitting sideways. Inside were shattered cloning tanks, ruined computer banks, and countless corpses; all of the same female. It was pretty obvious who it was. Any old timer from Terminus knew Priya. A swarm of smaller robots were busily repairing the best examples of the equipment, pulling parts where they could. The next week was spent painstakingly pulling apart the facility, bit by bit, and transferring it to the new HQ.
---------

Trade the corpses from Blin's rampage to:
the meat mafia, see what you can get.
or AKSG reclamation brokers, resources are always good. Contracts are always better.
or store them for now or write in. There are seriously a lot of dead people.

Contain Blin. Lock him in the lower levels and seal off that area of the base for now.
or
Have CEO and a team subdue him.
----------

To all the other players. we are back in business.
>>
Rolled 26, 14 = 40 (2d100)

>>5676834
Welcome back! Assuming the whole slum hasn't collapsed under all the fighting I guess Fizz is gonna
>Swing by her old place and snag some of her important stuff to bring back to the tower
>And debrief with AKSG afterwards
>>
>>5676942
>26/14

Fizz looked at her old slum block. It was worse for the wear and looked like artillery had hit it, which was always a possibility. Going into the decrepit building she searched for a while to find HER little hideaway with all the good stuff. All she managed to find was a really old yellow rainjacket and matching yellow hat, and to be honest it had some holes in it. Still, better than nothing by a long shot, and nothing that some duct tape didn't immediately fix.

Her rummaging around took longer than expected, and by the time she was headed to the AKSG office, she heard some explosions. Info centers were warning of hypersonic barrages throughout the city. Not meteor showers, but someone was waging war against them. Intercity conflict was rare, and really only happened when it was worth it for the aggressor. 'Nayambe was too far away to be a practical target for any rational force...what was going on?
---
>Press on to the AKSG office
>Fall back to the tower.
>Slink into the undercity levels.
>write in.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>5677113
Pfffft, screw that! She could always check in remotely or something. She didn't see any core bots either, so why risk things?
>BACK TO THE TOWERRRR!
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5673422
This new limb... It has hand, and is not a member of any organizations. Part of being a killer robot is not looking a gift monkey in the paw, and dealing with the cards you've been dealt. Even if you utterly detest those cards.
Walking on a hand is not the most comfortable experience, but it'll be enough to get to the Tower. Core let it slip that there are parts similar to it in the area and well... Here's hoping they're not ALL pacifists like the one 2L's stuck with.

Rolling for:
>Journey to the Tower
>>
File: Marauder.png (8 KB, 175x315)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5677121
>5: Also known as, how to artificially crit to 0.
>Fizz will be getting updates to her crit tables.
>>5677140
>43: Unexpected friends and enemies.
---
Fizz was running as fast as possible, the machinery of her legs making a smooth cyclic noise until she tripped over a robot. The thing was pretty mangled, and had an array of mismatched parts. >>5673422

Worse for her was that that creepy Meat Marauder was running after her at full tilt, and it was smiling.
>Roll to get up
>Roll to defend yourself, evade ir stunsaw.
---
4L was impacted by a waifish cyborg, it would have had more time to consider the implications but a Marauder was hot on the trail of the female.

>Roll to attack
>Roll to resist using the banana
>Roll to embrace the banana.
>>
Rolled 18, 82 = 100 (2d100)

>>5677318
Just stay optimistic, that's the Fizz way! Even when you've got a murderous robot hot on your trail... and it's raining...
>Rolling to get up
>Rolling also to STUNSAW THIS GUY! He clearly doesn't plan on having a good day like she asked!
>>
Rolled 74, 91, 88, 33 = 286 (4d100)

>>5676777
>Khalga Asi
Let's make sure Troopers' equipment is up to snuff.
>Focus on utility and their training. Really train the fuck out of those Troopers, they need to get a hang of some better combat experience and using exoskeletons.
>Weed out the weirdos and nerds to use on-site as technicians and researchers, since Boomers don't fuck with R&D

>Cull
This whole AI-business wouldn't be nearly as bad if the spiderbot would just stop gutting the bioweapons before entering the derelict - it often walked in with chunks of gelatinous substance still stuck to its "face", leaving the trails of goo in its wake and making the electrical hazards all the worse. And of course, the damn tin-can-devil itself seemed impervious to electric shocks, making Terminus units avoid it even more from the fear of getting electrocuted alone. Even when it was bringing the good news.
>It was an AI core and high level corporate research center from the hectic weeks before the collapse of the central spire.

>Ex(?)Terminus
[You really need better drugs for this skin condition.] The CEO stated what everyone in the room must've been thinking of the zombie inside the room.
>Exterminus will start training up a new crop of units, teaching them survival and scouting, but again, the plan would need the fleet. Train the Daughters all the dirty/social tricks he picked up so they can be used as infiltrators. We needed them useful for yesterday.
>>
Rolled 98, 26, 51, 49, 72, 14, 35, 89, 52, 15, 91, 84, 21, 93, 40, 27, 14 = 871 (17d100)

>>5676819
Electricity was taking many victims, the demon in the sockets needed to be apprehended, strangled and obliterated before it could hurt any more non-hostile entities. Er-
>CEOBot reads a book about electricity in massive derelict ships and attempts to unfuck the cables
>Roll to establish the well-being of the most-guilty Boomer he is dragging along
Daughters had... [inbuilt plasma weapons?] What the what, surely the absolute clown who wrote this nonsense meant inbuilt plasma PROJECTORS, right?
>Try to turn the plasma projectors into plasma guns
The Boomers were back and it was time to weaponize them.
>Send pipebombs to AKSG VIPs that Terminus has failed to chip previously (>>5673013)
The storm hammers were almost a surprise. They must've been locked in cargo containers to survive the descent or something. Either way, there were to ideas considered for those:
>Turn them into crude prototype Lightning Rifles for the girls
>Continue the work on them by applying more elements and making them truly magical - able to create both lightning and fiery mini-explosions
Seeing as the Troopers are starTing their training with Khalga Asi and CEO is ready to pursue the concept of Lightning Rifles, we are skipping them.
Neural grenades failed? Daughters had interest in plasma weapons? No way.
>Boomers were encouraged to make plasma grenades
>And test them in the sewers

>>5676834
The planes were a relief, the paintjobs were devilish.
>Take test flight over the Meat Mafia's zone, using Bluetooth
If this works, good. If shit bombs, good.
CEOBot looked at Fujo with interest. He didn't expect to find one of the original 8-foot-tall monster-ex-troopers on Venus. This creature could almost challenge him in a fight and the self-defense process kept spazzing out whenever she moved her... tendrils. [Long time, no see.]
>Take Fujo back to headquarters.
>Roll for pedestrian reactions
The bodies...
>Load them on the planes and drop them all over the calmest "district"
It was a mass-suicide.
>Some of them still have the Terminus' remaining neural grenades they swallowed!
It is important to remind the people we live in a society.
The BLIN
>Have CEO and a team subdue him
>Robotpunch his fist for perfect parry and then dropkick him into the elevator shaft, cut the wire and send the elevator straight on his head
That should give him a black eye at the very least. Best case it might sober him up a little.
>Use ancient finnish swearing to weaken his resolve if all else fails
If all of that does nothing:
>Evacuate the building
>>
File: AKSG.png (20 KB, 716x401)
20 KB
20 KB PNG
>AKSG was aware of the terminus muster. They were starting to reach for an idea of competition, and that impacts a very stable business model; something which disrupts profits and the process, and that is not forgivable. For now, they observed from afar using short lived recon satellites, drones, and observation teams on good weather days.
---
>>5677329
Khalga Asi was a demanding task mistress, forcing the troopers through repetitive, grueling training and combat scenarios. The horrible conditions of the terminus base were preferable to any time spent with her in the field. From this though, the troopers grew, fighting every step of the way like animals that needed to be broken. Behind a sensor visor, and in her eyes, that was exactly what they were. The most spirited, unpredictable or otherwise unreliable units were sent to refine themselves as "Individuals" with the R&D teams. The chance to be free saw their productivity explode, and it turned out that Terminus would have a meaningful R&D department. (bonus to research and development rolls.)

Cull moved with it's team of "menials." An affectionate term for the R&D mooks that were assigned to assist in "Asset Recovery." The entire recovery went surprisingly...uneventful. Routine even. The entire asset was a large pill shaped structure, easy enough to mistake for a sort of sceptic tank or other bulk storage. Inside was a curious thing; redundant data on the Priya project. The AI itself was wiped, but residual files of a "PATEL" as well as several petabytes of vintage deep space desi porn, flash animations, erotica, and pirated games, software, and OSes that had been so patched, cracked, and mutated as to be nearly unrecognizable. Quite the haul.

Exterminus was an excellent radical and agent of "liberation", but a poor teacher. He was literally a "Boomer" in the eyes of the daughters. What did rub off on them was the ability to throw an explosive pretty good. That' something right? Maybe he needed to try harder, or team up or just fucking put his helmet back on so people quit looking at that scrotum lookin' head of his.
>>
>>5677330
"I'm the CEO not a fucking electrician!" was something once said by CEOBot. It turns out being a robot is great for reading comprehension and near immediate skill mastery. He also seemed to have a natural talent for the process of electrical repair. Within days the shoddy boomer work was combed over and optimized, then integrated with existing infrastructure on the ship which was rapidly coming online. Powerful sensors woke once more, while point defense turrets whirred to life and popped out of their hatches. Even sanitary, atmospheric and air handling controls came online. If you wanted something done right, you did it yourself. Fucking idiots. The boomer who was most guilty of malpractice and haphazard bullshit was last seen with several dozen neural spikes jammed into his head, and a few dozen more in his ass ("incase the bastard was sitting on his brain"). He works in the kitchen now.
>Terminus HQ is now electrically repaired, with numerous subsystems recovered. Its a wreck, but a very livable one.

The daughters implants received very minor tweaks and were able to fire off a very messy shotgun like blast of plasma now and again. It complimented their CQC function, but they would probably never be long range capable with their present level of augmentations.

Meanwhile attempts to pipebomb terminus VIPs resulted in indiscriminate explosions within the terminus mailrooms. Numerous recon-troopers were hurt, and had to be re-reconn'd, resulting in an outgrowth of the experimental "Indebted" units.
---
The new female troopers were pretty pleased to see the storm hammers converted into a sort of electro-laser style "storm lance". The new weapons worked, and were very effective against machine type units. Some jackass tried to create "magic." with some of them, and instead had a limited release of the reactor's plasma storage. This liquified the research area for storm hammer development, effectively halting any further research for a while on those things.
---
Boomers being what they are, enthusiastic, tried to combine several failed efforts into a single grenade. It was basically an improved pipebomb; but no one told them, they were too proud of their accomplishment. Testing in the sewers went great, and numerous freaks and feral machines were exploded. They even drove of this horrible slime sniper thing that only ate half of one of a guy's leg. Now he got to look like exterminus. super cool.
---
The first flight over the meat mafia's area of control was really; the entire city. They existed adjacent and underneath AKSG in terms of control and power...bluetooth 27.3 didnt work too good and well, it was boomers again. They crewed the plane, and sort of gave away that Terminus had a plane by doing some really sick flips. The upside was they also threw grenades out the windows.
>>
>>5677330
---
>91/84: Fujo compliance
The Fujo went back to the base without any major Issue. "Nice new bod boss. Glad to see death didn't get you too down." For the most part everyone seemed nonplussed at a slightly larger, but calmer looking "Admin". It wasn't wielding chainsaws, screaming "Ara Ara!" while it made off with their men. Pretty low key all things considered. At the HQ the fujo promptly took interest in the larger female troopers, recognizing them as genetic kin, as well as going over the history of the crash to now. None of the boomers or random hordes of employees were found with crushed bones. Yeah. So far so good.
---
>21: Sky diving gift baskets.
The meat mafia will remember this gift. Maybe terminus isn't all bad. Either way these bodies that were stuffed with tech will make some great starters for new units...or parts.
>93: This worked. The CEO's team was the Fujo, Exterminus and a handful of goons. Blin was beaten down with no additional loss of life and only having to throw the bear down a faulty elevator shaft, then break it's arms, legs, and temporarily paralyze it from the neck down. It could be fixed with tech. its fine. Blin will be more reasonable after recovering.

>40: Attempting to release the elevator resulted in the elevator failsafe system. The box did not fall.
>27: The CEO only knew like 3 Finnish swears, and while using them it caused an older D-trooper to convulse and die. Apparently, that was the kill switch for that one dude.
>14: Simulations show the bear would have mauled, raped, killed and eaten everyone in the building if it had not been subdued in it's present state. The order of events the bear would have executed were not in the above sequence.
>>
>>5676766
>Stick to the wastes and fight what comes to you.

There’s still so much more work to be done, rushing in is suicide, and not befitting an ambitious anarchist drug fueled rampage. “Let them come! You come my house now! We play the game my way! I kick you in mud corporate dogs! You hear me! I kick you mud!”

wheezing in broken English he maneuvers his death machine to do some sort of bastardized touchdown dance spliced with some quick flashes of an industrial sized middle finger while he waits for their retaliation.

>Rolling for how sweet my moves are while they come.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5677534
>>
Rolled 65, 48, 19 = 132 (3d100)

>>5677318
Great, if losing all its good limbs wasn't enough, now it's being glomped by some- Wait. Wait a minute. That can of hypergolic toxic waste she was happily chugging from... 4L would recognize that can anywhere! She's that girl from the tower! One of 4L's sworn enemies!
Let's help that Marauder end her once and for all!
Rolling for-

Wait. Wait wait wait. [we're heading for the Tower. It would be wise to gain the trust of its staff, and simply betray them once we have what we want!] Pelvis argues, and Right Leg and Core begrudgingly agree. The Monkey Paw doesn't agree because it's a fucking monkey, it can't give consent.

New plan: Right Leg will estabilish communication with the Marauder, and use its connections to Meat Mafia to convince it to let 4L play the hero. 4L "saves" the girl by throwing a banana at the Marauder and "killing" it, they go together to the Tower, 4L gets all the parts it wants, and then the Marauder can come back and they can trash the Tower together! How does that sound?

And if the Marauder doesn't like that plan... Well, 4L can go back to its original idea: just killing the girl here and now.

Rolling for:
>Right Leg estabilishing communications with the Marauder, and whether the Marauder will agree to the plan(decides choice of plan and Marauder's amount of cooperation)
>activating the banana(target decided by Monkey Leg, not by intelligent choice; +10 bonus for Monkey Leg's proficiency with banana weapons)
>banana's target(high is consistent with the chosen plan; low is jeopardizing the plan)
>>
>>5677535
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fqJ1Ngz37lY (Turmion Kätilöt - Dance Panique)

Stanislav grew increasingly discoordinated, his voice blaring and tinny over loudspeakers as he flailed around in the giant robot. Classical music of patriotic origin gave way to outdated Disco songs of his youth. Limbs flailed and wild muel kicks lashed out in some semblance of a goblinoid jig. The machine emulating the terminal dancing of a drunken slav before a head meets the ground. He passed out, the machine fell. Dumb luck favored the old man.

Face first into the mud, the mech was already partially buried and then the rain came. By the time AKSG termination squads arrived they were not looking for a lumpy mass of venutian mud and rusting steel....The old man woke up the next day feeling no worse for the wear; though the cockpit did smell a bit like piss. He would get revenge on the bitch who pissed in his cockpit while he slept. The fucker even pissed all over his clothes too! Sick bastard! FUCK! REVENGE!
---
>>5677571
RL contacted the Maruader seemed to grin at the thought, but it was cut off quickly by inane clips of monkey screeching. The money leg began to eject and throw bananas (58) at the Marauder, splattering them on it's face shield and around it's feet, also hitting Fizz on the back of her head and turning one to pulp that 4L slipped on. Where did they all come from?
>>5677320
Fizz flailed and tried to get up but her pointy legs didn't find purchase on the ground. In a panic her stunsaw popped out and slashed wildly, scraping across the metal armor of the Marauder and discharging into it. The massive "knife" fell out of it's hand and clattered next to Fizz. It went ridgid then promptly fell over. "y0-oo-ooou gOt-t-t-t-t Me.me.me." The cruel red light in it's visor flickered then turned off; banana goo dripping off like tears in the rain.

The gas canister on the back of the marauder began spewing it's psychogenic gas, encouraging biological units in the area to leave or go temporarily insane.
---
>>
>>5677734
All according to plan! Really good acting there, Marauder!... Marauder?... Shit, is he actually dead?

>awaiting GM's response on whether Marauder really died
>>
Rolled 58, 13 = 71 (2d100)

>>5676766
Hmm... The Core units are not impressed by displays of valorous violence... In that case, a display of valorous peace is in order! Now to find a conflict to peacefully resolve...

Rolling for:
>finding a conflict to peacefully resolve(finding a conflict is guaranteed in a place like this; the roll is for determining how epic and valorously resolvable it is)
>how far the conflict is(low is near the lighthouse or in the forest; middle is in the city; high is in the Terminus base, somehow)
>>
File: 1685656394231.png (214 KB, 597x626)
214 KB
214 KB PNG
Rolled 27, 51, 30, 72, 82, 95, 65, 100, 3, 95, 91, 77, 20, 100, 4, 23, 22, 5, 22, 66, 96, 1, 71, 91, 47 = 1356 (25d100)

>>5677480
Alrighty then, looks like Terminus is almost past the chaos phase. Time to get these balls rolling.
The Pill will be a great addition to our base, but we had to deal with its less-tangible contents first:
>Weed out all the military data we can
>Give all the encrypted porn to Cull so it can stop whining about cultural and historical preservation of Naya Bombay
Exterminus-effect was getting out of hand
>Make a policy forcing him to wear the mask, actionable immediately

>>5677503
The CEO was indeed not an electrician, but he was ready to do what it took to keep this startup alive. He was also somewhat knowledgeable about mechanical repairs, due to being a tincan. Once again, he pressed the light button in his office again, to
>See what would happen
He then decided to see what this derelict could do.
>Fire all the sensors at max power
>Test fire the turrets on Jehovah's witnesses
The Daughters having gained no experience with Exterminus were a bummer, we really have to outsource their training...
>Daughters go to town in search for better spy teacher
But before they leave, they
>De-implant themselves and leave the plasma devices in R&D department for further development
Pipebomb mail failure was a horrible stain on the Terminus' perfect record today. We'll be sending the guilty employees on a trip to the sewers to look for machine parts
>Roll for lethality
>Machine parts they bring back
Troopers, still in training, will be helping in physical work around the base:
>Install the "Pill" structure recovered by AI, close to the Terminus' HQ. This will be the new futuristic R&D hub.
>Build a production line in place of liquefied research area
>Shoot the local drones as target practice
>...Then hope it blows over rather than attract our first wave of problems to deal with

>>5677510
This Fujo continues to be a pleasant surprise. One of R&D Troopers offers headpats and coffee for being a good sport. We also put her on the board of directors as a veteran.
>See if she can do any administrative work.
As for BLIN, remind him of his former glory once we unfuck him.
>Send him out to harass the AKSG and not at all rape anyone
And finally, first time we"re adding the R&D Troopers into the mix (pic Soon™), who will be referred to as "Lab Rats" from now on (+R&D bonus):
>Advance the Lightning Rifle design research - we don't want lances, we want goddamn slick sexy white scifi rifles that shit semi-auto hitscan thunder
>Check out that Exterminus rejuvenating gas to see if we can make the motherfucker look any less macabre
>Develop antigravity modules
>Put them on planes lmao.
>Tweak the Daughter's plasma implants into actual smol guns, with single projectile and no recoil
>Safety roll: add this to the worst two rolls (because we still remember the idiot who liquefied himself making elemental hammers [*])
>>
>>5677858
>totally dead. The machine did not at all give the equivalent of a wink over wireless communication. Its dead. Fizz got it's knife, which is sorta big and heavy. Cool though.

>>5677869
The conflict would be at the tower, and it would be reasonably resolvable.... which is adequate. The core felt this in it's circuits.
---
>>5677930
The pill was moved in the most questionable way possible: strapping it to the top of a cargo plane, and having another two cargo planes in a line help tow that one by several cables into the air and keep towing it. Yes. This idea was absurd, and stupid, but it worked. There was precious little military data stored within, mostly blueprints for generic and mass produced armor and small arms. Improved D-trooper gear. Cull gladly took all of the cultural material and began setting up a server with laser comm relay (coom relay) to spread such history to the rest of venus, and maybe earth on a good day!
--
Exterminus would wear the mask when the CEO was around, or he felt like it, which was often due to severe image issues.
--
>72, 82, 95
The CEO's office light turned on harmlessly, but also brought up a control point from within his office for the wreck of the ship. "AKSG-Kugelblitz" hmm. Its a name...I guess. Selecting a full power sensor "Ping", the CEO proceeded to let the planet know that something existed, and that it saw them; He was aware of the surrounding area, underground structures that made up part of 'Nayambe, overhead satellites, and even a strange tower some distance away...That would have to be reviewed later. Gunnery tests by his own hand. Reflex beam cannons warmed up with the usual lightshow and fanfare of that kind of older weapon. The in atmosphere firing was not something they were really designed for, but hey if it works; and it worked. A nearby religious settlement was erased from the world, never to speak their message again on Venus, the last of it's kind, gone in the blink of an eye. There was thunder outside, or maybe it was clapping. Unimportant. more work to be done. The CEO busied itself going over firing data and more, there was a capital ship shield generator on this piece of shit, and it needed to be online yesterday.
>65, 100,
The daughters would venture into town, learning the arts of spycraft by self taught normie observation. Talking to people, blending in. It was sloppy, and not the best, but good enough. What was really shocking was the terminus medical department's ability to surgically remove implants from people that were wired into an insane degree. The implants were pulled just fine and even operational outside of the body. They could be researched, improved, and even duplicated now. Neat.
>Terminus gains advanced exploratory surgical centers and available harvesting operations.
>3, 95
The process was fully lethal. Over the radio people screamed about a "Blue Goo" and "she who takes". Clearly there was some sort of psychogenic nerve gas.
>>
Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5677734
>>5677858
>>5677945
"Phew! Say, 'knife' work there, pal!" It takes her a few tries, but Fizz eventually kung-fu leaps onto her robotic legs after snatching the Marauder's Knife up off the soiled, muddy ground.

"Thanks a BUNCH for the assist there... I can see the ap'peel' of having an arm like that!" Stepping back from the encroaching gas from her foe's canister, the girl shakes some of the rain from her blue-tinted hair before beaming ear to ear at her 'rescuer'.

"Hey, you look kinda familiar, you know that? If you're looking for a place to get out of the rain I know just the spot!"

Pointing in what she assumes to be the general direction of the beacon, Fizz raises an eyebrow at the robot.

"I was just on my way there myself, actually! Mind escorting me the rest of the way? It looks REAL neat there, y'know!"

Things always had a way of working out, Fizz thought to herself as her smile deepened! Just when things look grim they always turn around somehow! She could check in with AKSG when she got back using her Personal Device, but until then she had a good feeling about this new bot!

>Rolling to make it back to the dang Lighthouse. Will add more depending on responses by 4L!
>>
>>5677945
Despite the lethality of it all, there was a pile of machine parts heaped up by the sewer entrance. Enough salvage to refurb some of the home base, or commit to another project.
>91, 77, 20, 100
With a little work the pill was offloaded and stuck directly into a shattered part of the terminus HQ, filling the gap quite nicely. The hordes of unspecified workers would gradually merge it into the superstructure with scrap, hopes, and dreams. It was a huge improvement over working out of some clapped out men's restroom. A modest production line was created in the melted steel room. If it blew up, hey no problem, the room was already a nightmare of frozen flows of once molten steel and skeletons baked in and chromed over. More of art piece with that touch of functionality now, really remind the workers to keep up the good work. or die.

The ship's main guns were good for static targets, or large formations, but attempts to shoot the local drones was a failure with dust being kicked up by the capital ship weapons. So much dust that the plume raised up over the HQ and temporarily blinded it's sensors. This was an unexpected boon, as Terminus now had a way to obscure itself from prying eyes by creating a persistent dust storm. (ask for a better 100 result?)
>4, 23
Asking the fujo to do admin work was a catastrophic mistake; the individual who made the joke was force fed a tentacle and eaten from the inside out. Yes, that is more a board of directors kind of personality. Blin Growled in frustration and spent time raiding AKSG supply lines, eating food, and mostly being a bear.
>22: R&D cluster fuck. Also maybe I misread the rolls but here we are.
Lance was more of an informal name for the electrolaser. It's core function wasn't changed, but it was repackaged with a nice hitbox.
>5+47 (safety roll)
Exterminus underwent a pretty intense "Refurbishment program". Cultured cells and collagen were injected at several thousand locations over his body then he was soaked in a growth tank so the process looked more scifi and cool. He looks less like beef jerky now.
>22, 66,
antigravity modules were something beyond the researcher's grasp, considering the technology didn't exist elsewhere, the planes did however get a compact plasma generator that fueled a static electricity repulsion drive, and that was sort of anti gravity if you liked gratuitous amounts of EMF, and visible arcing electricity.
>96
The plasma implants were successfully converted to shoot tidy little "bullets" of plasma. These could even be packaged and used as a regular gun, replacing electro laser. With a flick of a switch the gun spewed a short range "fountain" of plasma in a closed loop, like a sort of cutting torch or bayontette. New standard weapon obtained. RIP special snowflake status of daughters.

>1, 71, 91,
Having no idea what the rest of this was for, it was omitted, because it was eaten by Blin. What I am sayng is Blin broke into the R&D lab and ruined several experiments.
>>
Rolled 69, 5, 25, 43 = 142 (4d100)

>>5677953
>>5677945
...Well, at least the girl trusts 4L now. We'll call that a success. It would normally take all of 4L's willpower to pretend to not hate her guts, but thanks to the Core, acting like a decent robot being has never been easier.

Rolling for:
>following Fizz to the Lighthouse
>analyzing Fizz with Core's sensor

Oh, and before they move too far from the corpse, Right Leg orders Monkey Paw to get some of the Marauder's flesh. As a souvenir.

Also rolling for:
>salvaging Marauder's AI system(NOT integrating it, just stuffing it into Core's abdominal Doohickey Storage Compartment)
>stuffing raw meat into Core's stomach hole
>>
File: 20230602_100118.jpg (2.33 MB, 4000x3000)
2.33 MB
2.33 MB JPG
>>5677953
Nothing like a stroll in the rain!
>>
File: 213421404.png (7 KB, 540x720)
7 KB
7 KB PNG
Rolled 95, 9, 39, 44, 86, 77, 55, 31, 87, 80, 7 = 610 (11d100)

>>5677945
Alright, time to stop fucking around and about and in circular fashion, too. I'm sure you've noticed Terminus has been low on art recently, it is because our main concept artist was eaten by a Venutian sand crocodile and everyone else is dying from dehydration while furiously overcorrecting their artwork to make it as perfect as our products. However, due to our reviews on Velp reaching a skydiving status, we will be releasing one artwork forcibly, against the will of its creator. It is important to us that you leave a rating.

>Sensory & HQShip data
The ship shield will be online yesterday, faxxing it to R&D department right now. But there is a STRANGE tower, you say? We should investigate immediately.
>Sending Exterminus with the based cubic biplane (Mk2) to investigate

>Daughters
Well well well, they're making more progress than they did with our dusty ol' Boomer. This works! Once they get back, they will find their new toys re-armed, re-armored, tricked-out and ready to use. Given their ability to handle plasma weapons in general, we expect good results even with poor CHAOS.Factor
>Rearm Daughters with Handheld Plasma Multitool (HPM)
>Make some of their female colleagues (new gen Troopers) give them hints on using HPM at range (even if it's short), to weld enemy's crotch to the steel wall of the closest piece of brutalist architecture without getting too close

>>5677977
>Robot Parts
Perfect! We've just had a talk about our horrid working conditions from the R&D team, and this looks like just the solution. But first!
>Remind our beloved Boomers of the untimely, horrific demise their compatriots (tragically) suffered as a result of exploding COMPANY PROPERTY, so they are more careful around COMPANY PROPERTY in the future
>Use the robot pieces to create transport/construction robots
>Roll for goodness of their AI
So that R&D can R&D and Troopers can Troop without having to double as construction workers. Moving on, moving on...

>The Pill
This... it looks much less futuristic up-close, you know what I mean. Paint it whiter, install slidey doors and then we can see what's inside of this cloning facility in detail
>Check the overall equipment's state
>Check compatibility with current Terminus" units

>Macabre Production Line
Chromed skeletons. These things are getting out of hand... and I mean in a good way! Look here:
>Use the chromed skeletons as objects of cultural importance, to remind our very smart and beloved employees to not destroy COMPANY PROPERTY
Mostly Boomers <3. Still, this is a gorgeous room (if you have a morbid sense of beauty). Even our beloved CEO has come down here personally and said: "[Heed my words, this is what hell looks like]".
We should continue working on this place. Fix broken skeletons, make the production line machines look less shitty, install moody lights
>See if this improves morale
>The main engineer's will to live after we turn production line into an artpiece
>>
Rolled 47, 5, 59, 45, 56, 61, 40, 35, 95, 22, 6, 86, 23 = 580 (13d100)

>>5677977
>100
[What in the FUCK is going out there?!]
The dust has risen so far up it reached the CEO's office solitude and the Troopers were called to stop shooting the ground immediately and not do it ever again unless explicitly instructed to do so. And then the dust cloud has settled over Nayambei, covering fucking EVERYTHING in sand-dust, even other player's posts. The guilty Troopers are still cleaning the HQS.

>Fujo
We give her a list of people she cannot eat.

>Blin
Poor guy, so misunderstood. We clearly started on the wrong foot here.
>Get him a bear therapist and bear translator
>Bring the og Venus honey
>If all else fails, risk Cull showing him some of that desi incest porn (in some hut a safe distance from HQShip)

>Troopers
Well they are trained by now, surely. Right? RIGHT? We need to test their ability to make us money, so:
>Arm them with best Electrolasers we've got
THEN HAVE AN EPIC BATTLE:
>Khalga Asi vs 10 Troopers test fight result
>10 Troopers vs Khalga Asi test fight result
Now, after that we're just gonna mobilize them. Partially to make sure they don't die under Khalga "Mistress" Asi, partially because they've been requesting to test their Electrolasers on their gross ex-neighbors.
>Send Troopers to look for mercenary work as one of very few semi-competent armed forces of Nayambei
>Do the work

>R&D
WOO LAB RATS. WE'RE BACK FOR ROUND TWO. CEO has been spitting some mad ideas and each and every caste of Terminus family has been echoing him with their own complaints and questions. But hey, at least we've got the basic framework almost finished here, right? A proper lab, production line, electric GODwork and... everything is better than Khalga Asi's training, right? Right:
>Start the shield generator
>Continue tinkering with Electrolaser (make it shoot actual zaps)
>Install SERD (the not-antigrav) on motorcycle frames for Boomers
>Continue work on HPM (longer-range plasma shots)
>Use the surgical center to strengthen clone DNA (test on someone first)

Finally.
>Get a board meeting with Fujo on board. CEO's curious what she might have to say (no roll)
>>
Rolled 62, 1, 61 = 124 (3d100)

>>5677945
200IQ business move update. Watch and learn as we'll be using Meat Mafia to start an armed civil conflict and turn profit.
First we need to weaponize the threat - thankfully due to receiving a surplus of corpses, the MM will be actively harassing the locals soon. Step two is (anonymously) giving the power to fight back to the people - and this is where we step in:
>Design and produce Microwave Laser, low-tech, cheap to make and capable of melting the Meat-Cancer
But we need to distribute these without being linked to the whole ordeal. Conveniently, we've just had a bunch of employees learn basics of spycraft in the city. A round of applause for the Daughter:
>They will wear burkas and sell the Microwave Laser to the locals
Once the meatbags start fertilizing the streets, Terminus will step in. [Yes. I understand. Unfortunately, we can't openly support your... business. Terminus' public image would drop harder than Naya Bombay did 38 years ago. I'm think we can make deal off the books, however. We will supply you with some unmarked prototype weapons, how's that sound?]
That's right! Step three is up-arming the former Goliath. It's SUCH a shame we cannot give them any GOOD guns publicly, isn't it?
>Use the shoddy blueprints from Naya Bombay and cheap materials to construct shoddy guns that will be sold to Meat Mafia waaay off the record.
Have you ever heard of guns being called equalizers for allowing one motherfucker to kill someone without putting his ass on the line? Well, these, these are REAL equalizers - equally as deadly to the victim AND the victim pulling the trigger!
[That's the shittiest pitch I've heard today, we're going with it only because we won't ever use it for anything.]
>>
>>5678593
>95
In the distance an AKSG operative was observing the dust storm that now blanketed the Terminus HQ. A series of teal flashes and lightning lit up the dust storm for a bit, before it tapered off....and just like that, that fucking shield was online. A tiny dot in the storm was Exterminus, who made all speed for this thing that the locals called "The lighthouse". His plane touched down not far from it. It was time to start investigating. Weird plants, weird robots, weird energy readings. weird shit. Just like home.

>9,39
the HPMs were dangerous to the extreme, overheating and exploding more often than not. Most daughters managed to fling them away before that happened, some didn't. The troopers showed them the basics of ranged combat, but the plasma weapons were nothing like the longer range electro lasers.

>39,44,86
The Boomers listened to the multi hour seminar with a mixture of slack jawed blank stares and vacant nodding. They heard it, but was it absorbed? It was hard to tell with them. Boomers were like outdoor pets, some things just could not be expected of them. A series of twisted and malformed transportation and construction robots were built, then improved due to existing knowledge of powered armor, and a lot of stolen "toiler" suits. After the initial prototypes, the AI of the robots took over production and they started assembling "optimized" versions of themselves. This won't go wrong.

>77,55 (check'them'dubz)
The Pill was pretty good. Sorta dated, but all the research equipment worked and just needed light to moderate maintenance. The interfacing between the terminus units and it were shaky but doable. Only a few of the "horde" were torn apart by automated systems as they figured things out. With a nod, a researcher set to work studying. new projects around the HPM, electrolaser, genetics, robotics, and sensor readings were queued up.

>31,87,80,(7): Memento Mori.
The chromed skeletons were fucking cool. There was now a spreading idea that getting your skeleton coated in chrome would be a high honor, being able to forever witness your company and fellow workers while being witnessed. The HQ of terminus gradually started increasing in intricate corporate art which was a persistent safety reminder. Morale improves and engineers seem happier, but it may be more due to the low key death cult vibe and fatalistic willingness to die if the mission requires it.
>Gained an exciting new facet of corporate culture! +5 to last stands and other doomed actions. just remind me.
---
>>5678594
>47, 5
The dust would not be cleaned. It was part of life now, while the Fujo consumed the individual who presented her with the list.
>59, 45, 56
Attempts at recovering Blin are moderatly succesful, the bear is stuck into a fap shack with some honey and porn. On a child's touch and spell toy, he indicates that he remembers his name. T-LIN. He remembers being a man. He asks what this nightmare is. What is life? Is any of this real?
>>
>>5678594 (I literally have no idea what the rolls are for now. help me internet.)
>61: Asi vs troopers. 40: troopers vs Asi
The back and fourth mock battle between the seasoned veteran vs the new troops plays out like an action packed bollywood summer flick. The troopers are scattered with smacks from the flat side of Asi's sword, while they work to try and corner her in the testing and training environment. For being absolutely new, they aren't horrible. The electrolasers benefitted from having multiple settings ranging from stun to murder.

>35, 95
The troopers find a contract with some local algae farmers who are having trouble with mechanoid problems. Namely skeletal androids who keep trying to murder them and wear their flesh. Its not quite the meat mafia, but meat mafia adjacent. Rookies who wanted to be in the big leagues. The Troopers executed their task with extreme competence, which was a massive upgrade over the old D-troopers. The small bands of robots were disabled and loaded via the new robot movers onto waiting biplanes. Over the coming weeks, it was not uncommon to see terminus security forces patrolling around poorer communities.

>22, 6,
the shield generator started up earlier and was sustaining fine, so the eletronicians put efforts into studying the electro laser and improving it. (22+6). It was sort of cleaned up some more, but someone got the bright idea to just start stealing from the next project over and incorporating bits of the plasma gun. Well, it didn't improve much, but it did look cooler. I mean maybe it was a little better? The guys said it was better. yeah it was better...but probably not. but maybe...
86, 23
Boomer SERD cycles worked. They were insane deathtraps that were often dropped from biplanes, but hey, that is just part of the boomer lifestyle. The HPMs continued to be dangerous hand grenades pretending to be pistols.
--
The Surgical center had been collecting examples of successful genetic sequences for a bit and was convinced they could at minimum start churning out replacement body parts, if not an entire human. Well, what could be called a human. >roll 1d100 for how good it is. You can also feed Exterminus and Asi into the center's processing tanks to improve genetic "feedstock" though that also ends them as usable characters, considering they would become soup.

>Fujo wisdom:
"There are higher and lower levels of existence, alternate realities with their own higher and lower levels, and abundant lies between it all. This new base of operation is an improvement over what we had 30 years ago and will allow us to eventually stage raids or even relocate accordingly. In the interim consider consolidating all your boomers into a supply closet with me as reasonable course of action. It is for research." it was not for research. The CEO knew this, everyone else knew this, the Fujo knew this.
>>
Rolled 22 (1d100)

>>5677953
>50
Fizz made it back to the lighthouse, enjoying some light conversation with the 4L robot, twirling her new fuck huge knife about. This thing was just crazy dangerous and super cool, but totally useless for how big it was! She was probably gonna throw it into the pit for fun!
>>5678409
GM keks at this picture. Thank you anon.
>>5678152
>69
4L followed Fizz to the lighhouse, but sexually. The robot was concerned about these intrusive thoughts until it realized they were remainders of function from that damn pink limb it picked up. Musta been a pleasure unit at one time. 4L did not feel sad that the limb was mangled.
>5
The core either pretended it could not scan Fizz, or it actually couldn't scan Fizz. Ancillary limb sensors and wifi scans determined that the female contained significant amounts of cybernetic hardware and SEVERAL Neural spikes. Curious. A lot of things on venus blurred the line between AI and Organic, often hard to determine which was the controller and which was the host. 4L resolved to get a real scan when it could. Meanwhile the Monkey Paw tried to pull a chunk off the marauder. Grabbing the crescent blade, it pulled until the item detached at the wrist. Uninterested in the blade, it pulled the meat off and stored it in the banana dispenser...
>25/43
Fizz watched from a distance as 4L roughed up the body of the marauder for a bit, breaking its neck and jamming an arm into its body several times before yanking out some unidentified meaty bits and shoving them into it's chest. Good dude was trying to make sure that thing STAYED DOWN. For 4L's part it got meat all over itself...and inside itself. lotsa meat. meat meat meat. meat....m e a t. "Ok lets shake that distraction for now? We can keep it under control. Right?"
>roll 1d100 to determine the level of meat fetish.

rolling 1d100 for marauder reasons.
>>
>>5673323
I didn't realize this was waiting on me. I am the worst QM.
>71
The team, whatever they were anymore, wasn't what had come to this planet. Not by a long shot. D was staring out the window of her corporate apartment that she shared with J. They had been here well beyond the expected window of mission accomplishment and were still struggling with this "meat mafia", "terminus", and any other errand which that gargantuan AI hurled their way...at least until D figured out the shell game that the AI was playing, using AKSG and the "meat mafia" as two coins in it's schemes. At that point the work dried up, and she had been running odd enforcement jobs with J to make ends meet.

It had been at least a month since H's disappearance, and the rumors only grew worse about her transformation. Rumor was she had either become some sort of female bioweapon or giant sewer beast. One of the two. A lot of chatter from the terminus comm channels about the "hungry blue bitch"...At least H had figured out her niche on this planet. About a week ago D found some coordinates to that energy source she was sent to find, though the source had since vanished; now replaced with something new.

Small mercies in life would occasionally come from the worst situations; fail forwards. Yeah. A fail forward would be good right about now.
---
>Investigate the new coordiantes
>Go into the lower city and find H
>write in?

Give me 2d100
>>
Rolled 17, 39 = 56 (2d100)

>>5678674
Good. GOOD. The Monkey Paw is learning what's good in this world. Right Leg couldn't be prouder. Pelvis couldn't be more disgusted. Core couldn't feel more violated. Monkey Paw couldn't stop thinking about "meatnana" whatever that is.

Rolling for:
>meat fetishism
>Monkey Paw creating the "meatnana"
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5678772
>>5678674
And since we got to the lighthouse already:

>Using Core's credentials and knowledge of the Tower in order to get parts
>>
Rolled 26, 98, 95 = 219 (3d100)

>>5678674
"Phew!" Exhales Fizz as she flings her RAINCOAT onto the floor upon entering the Lighthouse, "And here we are, Mr. L! It's not much, but it's home! Kinda."

Feeling the droid stare holes into her, the girl dismissively wags her finger at 4L and gives him a few 'tsk's! It's almost like he was trying to SCAN her or something! Awkwaaaaard!

"C'mon, pal, didn't they ever teach ya it's rude to stare?"

There was much to do. Her debrief with her employers was put on hold by the full-on siege besetting the city, and the girl couldn't shake the insatiable urge to chuck her accoster's knife into that Pit below the tower--it had almost become her ritual at this point!

Hey, better than developing a drug addiction, right?

"So!" Fizz sighs as she finishes chugging a can of her namesake, "What say I give ya the tour, huh? I'm sure Iggy will join us soon--he seemed a little out of it last time I saw him, though. He's got a good reason, though--lotsa pressure on that guy's shoulders!"

Beckoning the robot to follow, Fizz leads the way towards her first stop in the tour: THE BIG GRINDY PIT! "C'mon, slowborg, ya need some grease for those joints or what? ... sorry, that was a little 'robotist', wasn't it? I didn't mean it!"

>Rolling to take 4L on the GRAND TOUR! She won't take no for an answer!
>And to chuck the MARAUDER KNIFE in the PIT!
>AAAAND to check in with AKSG once things settle down a bit using her PERSONAL DEVICE!
>>
File: the creation.png (5 KB, 319x128)
5 KB
5 KB PNG
>>5678772
Presently 4L is able to...control...the meat urges. Supple as it is. The monkeypaw ejected what appeared to be a bratwurst from it's leg compartment. The wet slap next to fizz was audible. Somewhere in 4L the schematics for this creation were stored. It could be improved; it could be marketed...
>Gained meatnanas
>>5678784
>>5678797
Fizz and 4L started their tour at the "Big grindy pit". The woman threw the oversized marauder knife into the pit and 4L observed as it was consumed. The grinder seemed to consider the offering, sparking and emitting a collection of screeching and grinding noises before it finally ejected a small robot. then another. and another. Hilariously small, no bigger than an orange, they emitted high pitched chirps and little vocalizations. "HEY! throw me at your enemy!" A message came up on her device from the pit itself. "You are safe here."
>Gaind 3 autonomous grenade drones.
The entire event was watched by 4L and it was intrigued as to what would happen to an organic should it accidentally fall into that pit. An arm casually reached out to give Fizz a friendly shove. A gesture of horseplay and friendship, and as it did it also slipped on a meatnana.
---
Roll 1d100 to not go into the pit. Or go into the pit.
---
Fizz really hadn't noticed and was already on her way to showing the rest of the tower, talking to herself and stray 1C robots. "And that's everything!" Looking around she noticed 4L was missing, he probably just ran off to hangout with the cubes. Yes. That means plenty of time to upload a report to HQ...

...About a half hour later Fizz was a bit proud. That one-page document was probably the most coherent thing she had ever made. Apparently AKSG felt that way too, giving her a small digital achievement, promotion, and a tidy sum added to her bank account.
>Fizz can now call in ONE AKSG lackey to support her on missions by rolling a 1d100.
>>
Rolled 16, 55, 14, 83, 2 = 170 (5d100)

>>5678822
As 4L clanged loudly into the pit, its internal communication once again erupted into arguments, all limb units pointing non-existent fingers at who they believed got them in this predicament(it was the Monkey by the way). This was the last straw for both Pelvis. With an elegant POP, the robot's components separated, and continued tumbling into the pit as individuals.

Rolling for:
>Monkey Paw(+20 bonus for agility and having a hand to hold on with)
>Right Leg
>Pelvis(-15 penalty for being basically just a box with no moving parts)
>Core(+5 bonus for having stumpy limbs to hold on with)
>Core sending out a distress signal to the other Cores
>>
File: marauder.png (8 KB, 199x306)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>5678834
>>5678822
The Marauder had been repaired so many times...Laying there in the rain and mud, trying to play dead while those fucks tried to rip it apart. These new generation machines; no respect to them. None at all. With a groan the cyborg got up, and set to fixing itself again. A passing vagrant took care of the worst of the resupply requirements. They always do.

some still water caught the Marauder's reflection for a moment as it passed under a decrepit bridge. "L-0-0-00oook1n-g g.g.Goo0d." The loss of the psychogenic gas was made up for with some new armor plates and a bit more mobility. It was time to get to business though. It fiddle with the remnants of it's former hand axe for a bit before making another oversized crude knife. "Pe-er0er-fec-t-ect-ect-ion." With a knife in hand and a several hearts full of hope, the marauder took off after 4L and Fizz, it was going to just have the best day!

...A short while later It broke into the Lighthouse, oblivious to the many, many, many, 1c robots embedded into the walls. "Hel..elll...ellloo. o o oooooo". No responses. The sympathetic combat fist scanned around, finding most recent hormonal and biological traces in the lower level of this facility. They were going down! Down in time to see that 4L robot falling apart and tumbling into a Pit. Time to slip on some sort of meat-plant thing.

Knowing things were about to be bad, the Marauder uploaded all its data and improved schematics, trying to reach its patrons.
>>
Rolled 2, 75 = 77 (2d100)

>>5678822
Ooh la la, QM! Is this lackey permanent or temporary for a certain assignment?
Fizz could hardly contain her excitement (an experience not wholly unfamiliar to her)! Victoriously pumping her fist, the street urchin decided that a CELEBRATION was in order... or at least something nice!

Skipping to the BAR with a spring in her robotic step, Fizz takes a page from what she saw Iggy doing and mixes herself a drink! She figures she could drink it while checking on THE ROYALTY and seeing if it needed anything.

Y'know, since she was 'SUFFICIENT' and all now! Yep, that's what it said on the report! Man, if the other street urchins could see her now...
>Rolling to fix a drink!
>Rolling to see if THE ROYALTY or THE HERALD requires anything
>>
File: 21326.png (13 KB, 541x293)
13 KB
13 KB PNG
Rolled 86, 49 = 135 (2d100)

>>5677945
>>5678834
As AmourBot was searching for a reasonably resolvable conflict at the tower, it heard deafening clanging noises from the main hall! A robot has fallen into the pit in Lighthouse City! Extend your hydraulic arm to rescue it!

This is a perfect opportunity for a valorous act of peace!

Rolling for:
>helping one of 4L's parts(add this to that part's roll)
>which part AmourBot helps(1-35: Right Leg; 36-70: Pelvis; 71-75: Monkey Paw; 76-100: Core)
>>
>>5678834
Despite a valiant effort. All parts went into the pit. How the pit interpreted them though. this was new. The Core tried to warn its kin but was frequency jammed by the monkeypaw's triumphant screeching and ook ook cycles.
---
The many minds of these machines were pulled apart, examined, and churned into a creamy uniform substance, only to be ripped apart again and reassembled at a molecular level. maybe atomic. really hard to say when you are in the mix.

There was a lot of new awareness here. A lot of new sensory feelings. a lot of memory.

This wasn't just 4L, it was the Marauder, but it was also the flesh. FLESH. they were all tangled together so much so it was hard to tell exactly where one began and the other ended. Was this even the same entity that went in? It's stomach rumbled. Hungry. That was new. Mirror earth cult, Indigo something...something...meat mafia, banana, Royalty...kill AND protect the woman...AKSG overdue reports and your kid's birthday. There was just a lot to consider. Seriously, where does an abomination get something to eat around here?

>4L saga begins: A real boy.
>>
Rolled 95, 7, 4 = 106 (3d100)

>>5678744
oh hey stuff's happening on my side of town again!

I think it is time to split the party. Young D is human enough to still want to find H and perhaps rescue her. But J, especially after having been repaired and her mind cleaned of the 4L-hacking, has her one-track-but-two-substance-mind on the price.

Rolling 3d100 because J rolls for coordinates and D for looking for H
>>
>>5678602
>62, 1, 61
https://youtu.be/QtuYEM9kkco
Microwave lasers, or MASERS as the earth of 1950s knew them, used such devices to fight Godzilla. No one was really sure if the R&D department had been binging on as an upgrade to existing Electro Lasers or if it was the fever dream of a man watching too much Kaiju media. These new weapons worked and were cheap, being built from readily available home appliances and a spare generator. The downside was they were heavy and dangerous.

The daughters were very poor at looking like modest women, and stuck out like a sore thumb. Within hours of their operation the meat mafia had uncovered the dealers and had publicly used the new weapons on the distributors, killing all street level operatives. As a terminal failsafe the schematics of this system were released onto the public intranet to sew maximum destabilization. The meat mafia now has access to MASER guns. So does the general public.

the shoddy weapons were successful, being nothing more than a stack of explosively formed copper disc penetrators that were electronically fired in sequential order from front to rear and stored in a "barrel". The entire assembly was monstrously heavy and only usable by the strongest entities in the city. This didn't stop weaker individuals from making cheaper single shot copies.
>>
>>5678840
>2: Crit fail.
Fizz concocted a substance so foul as to be considered an act of aggression in some circles. The fact that she drank it was a feat of pure madness and that she survived it, another feat of constitution. Bumbling around the lighthouse, vomiting, stumbling, and in periodically passing out, a venomous blend of alcohol and stimulants fought for control of her nervous system.

>75: Trying to help.
Loud knocking on the hatch to the upper levels of the lighthouse yields no results "Cammon! lemme in!" A calm chime from the herald indicates no. A small screen flip out from a stone wall with a task " A new guest arrives! Machine and woman, from the city. Perhaps another member of the court. Please make sure she comes whole and well." As soon as a small optical sensor finished observing fizz reading the message, the screen promptly swung back into it's hiding place. Maybe it was made just for this interaction? Fizz wasn't too sure. The beacon was a strange place and her head sorta hurt.
---
>>5678845
AmourBot managed to grab the other robot by the crotch, heroically rescuing it. "Hello my beloved, you are safe now." A pity that the other components went into the grinder, but such was life around a giant garbage disposal. Many options were considered now, in a fraction of a second.

>Keep the pelvis captive in AmourBot's room, the beginning of a most wonderous collection of love. The menagerie.
>Try to restore the stricken machine, see if the Core units can assist it. Caring is love.
>Amour bot would add the pelvis to it's own body, becoming something greater in the process, expanding it's mind and it's capacity for L O V E.
>>
>>5679771
>95:H
Clear of mind, and pure of purpose H set out into the Venutian rain. Her companions were too caught up in self imposed additional steps towards the accomplishment of the goal. Find and eliminate the new risk to AKSG. Ensure the status quo. She did not require her companions, the assistance of the lesser AKSG office, or even her own survival after the effort. There was the objective, and there was duty. These past weeks H had spent calibrating her own sensors and researching the historical data of the prior anomalous emissions. A strong circle of probability had been overlaid on her internal maps. It was enough.

The trip from the city was easy. Powerful augmented limbs powered over obstacles and sped past unimportant distractions. Sparce alien vegetation began add color to the land, and soon it expanded greatly into a forest that shouldn't exist here. Within it was a clearing, and from that a small greenhouse, and a very large lighthouse.

>Explore the greenhouse
>explore the lighthouse.
>stealthily observe.
---
>7/4:D
D descended into the lower levels of the city, looking for the feral H. They were a team, maybe even friends. She couldn't abandon her to this pit. Down here were more machines, and other humans. People that didn't conform to the society above. Some seemed to travel freely between the surface and below, others were kept at by via members of the meat mafia, or AKSG who seemed to be much more tolerant of each other's presence down here.

D was forced once again to side track, just to survive. Taking odd jobs to obtain the local currency or even just barter for food. There were always rumors of her friend, but no solid answers. People with scams, people with lies. Little jars of blue liquid soap quickly concocted so as to extract even more of her precious energy or time. The closest she came to finding H was an abandoned lair full of mechanical parts and skeletons stripped of flesh.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>5680212
Once again Fizz found herself driven by a high BAC and the disembodied voice of her new residence. A new guest, she repeated to herself excitedly! Machine AND woman! Hey, kinda like her!

The promise of a possible new 'gal pal' was all Fizz needed to prompt her to scurry down the stairs towards the entrance. Friends were hard to come by on the streets, doubly so when they belonged to the fairer sex.

Past experience suggested they were put-off and annoyed by Fizz' boundless optimism and energy, but it'd be a cold day on Venus before the girl ever figured that out.

In any case, her robotic escort seems to have abandoned her already, no doubt spellbound by her amazing tour. She hadn't seen Iggy in a while either and made a mental note to try and reach him after tracking down this newcomer. The last time she saw the Tech he was in the chamber with The Royalty-Fizz quietly prayed to whatever deity was listening that the rabid SMOOCHER wasn't practicing on The Royalty's growth tank...

Once a smoocher, ALWAYS a smoocher. That's what Fizz believed, anywho. She wanted to say that was the weirdest thought ever to grace her caffeine-pickled brain, but she'd be lying. You see some weird-ass shit on the streets...

Donning her RAINCOAT and MATCHING HAT, the street urchin handles the situation with the tact of a Venusian Garmahsk (which resembled something akin to a mix between a shark and a hippo) and rushes out into the downpour waving and hollering like a madwoman!

"HEY LADY!! COME ON IIIIIIIN! OVER HEEEEREEE!"

Yep, found the perfect middle ground there.
>Rolling to signal H!
>Also still waiting to hear if that AKSG Lackey mentioned earlier is permanent or for one assignment, QM. ANSWER ME
>>
>>5680329
Also holy crap I don't think I've rolled this poorly in any other quest I've ever participated in. Seriously, what the heck? Still having fun, though!
>>
>>5680329
>3: Or, how does this keep happening?
----
Fizz rushed at the cybernetic woman with all the coordination of the ancient earth game "QWOP". each limb flailed in loose cohesion as if she were a dysfunctional 4L unit. Tripping over her own feet fell face first into a puddle which continued on into a tumble. A nerveless tic caused her electrosaw to extend out into the shallow body of water, briefly giving herself a violent shock. Now much more sober, Fizz looked up to see an expressionless face staring down at her. A quiet chime from a wrist mounted PERSONAL DEVICE emits, a lackey was on their way.
(gained +5 resistance to being shocked.)

The whole puddle was still slightly steaming as she reached a hand up towards "H" a friendly handshake, oblivious to the fact that her killsaw was just retracted.
(gained lucky. Fizz's new crit table is as follows; 10 or lower is a crit fail, while 80 or higher is a crit success. May the dice smile upon you, and not remove your anus out your mouth.)
---
>Fizz can summon ONE permanent AKSG lackey at a time, while outside of combat. An unlimited amount of lackeys are at your disposal. She must roll to determine the quality of the lackey. The lackey will likely die a violent and horrible death as the scapegoat for crit failures. Their deaths will forever weigh on your soul.

>ROLL 1d100 for Lackey quality.
>>
Rolled 25 (1d100)

>>5680404
Let's meet our INTERRRRRRRNNNNN! Also for our no-faced acquaintance:

"Hi! I'm Fizz! Welcome to The Lighthouse-careful, it's slippery around here!"
>Rolling for INTERN
>>
File: newnpcs.png (34 KB, 893x418)
34 KB
34 KB PNG
>>5680501
Behind Fizz was the ever loyal Skizbop Mk1. Arguably it was a failed household servant, or maybe child's toy. Perhaps disabled child's toy...but it had clearly been following her even if she just only noticed it now.

At just over half her height it waved with great vigor and enthusiasm at the newcomer, even if it was periodically shorting out due to the rain. Oh Skizbop Mk1, you will surely be with Fizz for a long, long, time.
--
>Not H. J. The GM is tired.
J. looked at this, with a full emotional disconnect. Sensors saw and relayed more than her remaining flesh. Infiltration, recon, and threat negation were the order of effect. She simply took the hand of Fizz and followed her towards the lighthouse.
>>
Rolled 10, 49, 66, 83, 81, 59, 52, 44, 56, 28, 77, 44, 40, 40, 28, 6 = 763 (16d100)

>>5678654
Goddamit this is gonna be a lot of paperwork. - said nobody ever, we love Corporate culture.
> The Lighthouse
After investigation, Exterminus returned with a report. Immediately, the CEO sent out a team of Lab Rats (the R&D troopers) to take samples and condone SCIENCE. Boomers were the only capable pilots, so a couple of them came with to steer the BiSERDPlanes (betternamepending). Khalga Asi was sent along with them as team captain, just because she was acting weird a while ago and CEO didn't know what to do, but wouldn't pass up a chance to increase her potential. Here's the plan:
>Boomers' commit pilocy they fly the planes
>Lab Rats collect some weird plants and weird robot parts
>Lab Rats read the energy readings to make notes of what's going on
>Khalga Asi does ???
>Boomers don't break anything in the tower during their stay (can be merged with plane roll, under certain circumstances...)

>Handheld Plasma Multitools
These things, they really need a rebranding. Who the fuck approved this shit? WHO SAID IT WAS GOOD WHEN IT WASN'T.
>Promote that person to the bear's fap shack
It's only right we throw our newly formed Hyperion wing of the R&D department at the issue. We made started it just a minute ago.
>Bonus (>50) or penalty (<50) roll for the new department's first project (but if they get penalty, they also get +5 because they are doomed to fail, kek)
>Turn the HPM's explosion into a utility.
The damn thing's explosions always come after the "magazine" is empty at which point the plasma cartridge and its subcritical state rematerialize into someone's pocket and become their problem

>Memento Mori
Now THAT was a huge success. Fujo even brought one of the nicer skeletons to her room. We'll be outsourcing more macabre creatures to turn into statues to decor the building.
>We sent Troopers out to find nice-looking creatures to put on the HQ's outer walls
>With Powersuits for clean kills to collect them
>Three Boomers made a Last Stand by crashing a small plane into the AKSG tower "on accident" (+5) judging by the size of their building, it was doomed to fail (another +5)

>HQ Dust
This shit wouldn't last. The HQ WOULD SHINE, and CEO WOULD kill anyone arguing against it. Or rather give out orders, so that
>Fujo would
And then everyone would agree to make the transport bots climb the walls and remove the dust anyway.
>Their effectiveness
>Their AI's mental stability after

>Blin
When CEO heard what nonsense, the bear was spewing, he knocked him out with a wrench and ordered the Lab Rats to remove those memories from his mind. It was getting disturbing, really. Nobody wanted to see sad bear.
>Surgical procedure results
>Hyperion wing roll to reconstruct his mind if the previous roll fails
>>
Rolled 40, 43, 68, 32, 66, 19, 31, 17, 8 = 324 (9d100)

>>5678667
>Trooper merc arc
After a good start, we needed a good follow up. With citizens and MM armed up alike, but Terminus still somehow staying neutral and holding the best weapons (debatable), the Trooper force would once again look for local werk as merc.
>Find a better paid job
>Do the job
Simple as.

R&D:
We've had a little celebration since the Hyperion wing opened, but it's time to get back to manufacturing bullshit gadgetry and handheld warcrimes.
>Put the bitch who was stealing from the project into an electro-icebath (from all the shit she stole) to see what happens
>Extra tension in the room because the Fujo is present to see the spectacle for some reason
>Put more funding into Electrolaser
It's supposed to be our flagship product, goddamit!
>Crank up the SERD generator in the SERDcycle so it can negate the plane-drop when its "too-much-gravity" sensor goes off
Arguably, we will be rewarding the brave Boomers who pioneered the 'active-drop' technique with T-shaped medals. Great efficiency.
>Use plasma to develop a cheap, strong and flexible material to replace the abhorrent Powersuit
>Roll for Surgical Center (that I was asked for)
>>5680201
Oh right, forgot to include the last bit.
>CEO has talks with MM in order to sell the cheap Copper Disc Penetrators to them for a markup

>>5680523
Oh, the Boomer image is finished. Thanks.
>>
>>5680723
The boomer pilots few the biplanes with the sort of gusto only a boomer can muster. That gusto is reckless abandon, and they do it well. All three transport planes had their landing gear violently telescoped into the crew compartment as they snapped like autumn twigs on a particularly harsh landing. That this happened three times in coordination was where there was >goncern<. Still, a few members of the R&D department stayed behind to see where improvements could be made, and maybe get the planes capable of taking off again. They were rugged enough that a belly skid to being airborn was possible. Maybe getting rid of landing gear was...better?

the labrats grab clippings of plants and even manage to kidnap a few core robots, using the most scientific prybar to extract them from the lighthouse wall, while another cluster starts setting up disposable reading equipment. They figured out that there was a lower level reality breach, but it wasn't our reality, but another. From within the tower there are remnant emissions coming from a specific room.

Khalga Asi proceeds to the bar, and speaks no words. Her presence alone demands drink and food. That and the stool she sat on groaning as it's life was shortened under the muscle mass and ass of it's current resident. Ignaz hastily provides food and makes the most awkward of small talk. This was enough distraction that the boomers managed to explore the tower, and not get killed or fall into >THE PIT<. Their planes were hastily repaired with landing skids which seemed to be an agreeable improvement, if not in functionality, raw durability.
---
The individual most responsible, or just blamed, for these HPMs was sent to support the most valuable employee "Blin" in his recovery. Oddly enough, this seems to help the bear regain moments of lucidity from when it was human. The full time therapist has not been eaten yet. In unrelated news the HPMs have been converted into a disposable device that explodes shortly after emptying, and that is a known FEATURE. a FEATURE.
---
The memento mori art project was in full swing, and soon "chrome noir" ultra art was festooning the HQ of terminus. The Troopers were capable hunters and brought many weird bones from wasteland mutants. Attempts by powersuit users resulted in abject failure, as the shattered and mangled corpses of creatures and humans they tried to wrestle proved to be of little artistic value. All this death aesthetic did however cause some older model boomers to crash a biplane into an AKSG tower, which against ALL logic caused a catastrophic fire. Investigators say that this biplane fuel fire was hot enough to melt steel beams, and that was the cause of the collapse. Others are less sure. AKSG AA defense is online as a result.
---
>>
Rolled 2, 10 = 12 (2d100)

>>5680782
At work, but rolling to see if Fizz notices this huge-ass operation taking place while giving J THE GRAND TOUR. What the heck are these punks doing to The Lighthouse?? Iggy's gonna be peeved!
>Rolling to notice what's happening
>Also rolling to give J an AMAZING TOUR! Will provide annoying dialog later
>>
File: tormentedcargorobot.png (5 KB, 242x151)
5 KB
5 KB PNG
>>5680782
The dusty HQ was an ever ongoing battle, the Fujo was killing people but it really didn't motivate too much. She was a fact of life, as sure as being added to the walls. The new robots worked hard, but could only achieve a net zero, and in turn this endless toil revealed the character of the AI. they were a bit bitter.
---
Due to a wrench related accident, and two botched surgeries, the bear is, well, it is in a bit of a state of disrepair.
Roll 1d100
>1-10: the bear is sort of dead. It can be fixed, but, well, its also sort of dead.
>11-50: Bear recovers. Bear cannot be stopped. Blin escapes back into the venutian wilds.
>51-70: T-Lin's personality emerges further.
>71-90: Bear recovers. Bear cannot be stopped. Blin sticks around.
>91-100: your choice.
---
Terminus's recruitment attempts get the sort of PR that portrays it as a second string option for people who don't want to live in the wasteland, or undercity. The sort of recruits that are generated are...at times subhuman. the LabRats suggest just going the classic D-troop route and poking them with a neural spike. Sure its basically a meat android, but its a functional meat android. Other suggest psychosocial reconditioning.
---
Without getting into details, the Fujo now enjoys meat popsicles. No longer do the denizens of the HQ have to fear being devoured on the spot; no now they can look forward to being frozen to death then eaten. On the upside the electrolaser has reached a new peg in it's maturity cycle and is probably fieldable.
---
These SERD generators have this habbit of shorting out, filling the cockpit with smoke, and catching on fire. Its all good fun, but not really useful, though it has stopped AA from shooting down planes when the AI thinks they are already stricken. (smoke screens unlocked). Research into plasma based applications just yields electro polymers.
---
The CEO strikes out as the MM is capable of manufacturing it's own copper discs.
>>
File: 21327.png (19 KB, 675x400)
19 KB
19 KB PNG
Rolled 184, 103 = 287 (2d200)

>>5678847
<We're powerful!> [We're awful.] *We're gorgeous~* \We're disgusting...\
[<\*We're ravenous!!!!*\>]
[We can barely think on an empty stomach.] <Let's get some grub!>

Rolling for:
>finding some tasty FLESH
>finding some tasty METAL
>>
Rolled 69, 16 = 85 (2d100)

>>5680212
AmourBot struck up a conversation with the disembodied crotch, and it looks like they hit it off! The Pelvis was a bit too interested in the Core robots and their limb system here, but AmourBot had eventually managed to pivot the conversation back to the one robot that REALLY matters: itself.
It seems the Pelvis is one of those "fashion-minded airhead" types: it really wants to check out the assortment of parts around here! Well, AmourBot is a gracious host, so it'll indulge its guest and partner.

Rolling for:
>finding parts for Pelvis

____________________________________

Ugh, not THIS idiot! Of all the idiots at this idiot lighthouse, this is the idiot to ever idiot! At least it's the USEFUL kind of idiot, unlike the idiots Pelvis was stuck to a few moments ago. Pelvis got it wrapped around its nonexistent finger on its nonexistent arm - nonexistent FOR NOW, at least; apparently those Core types have fully subservient limbs without AI, and Pelvis would very much like to try them out.

While the idiot is taking it to the nearest parts depot, it thinks back to that blue-haired girl; that hue is a dead giveaway of the Lodge's genemod work, might have been one of those cheap designer babies they sell; in that case, she could be in its data logs, and it could get info on her without scanning(not that it COULD scan her now; most sensory equipment was with Core, so... oops).

Rolling for:
>searching Indigo Lodge's genemod subject logs for hyperactive crazy girls
>>
>>5680523
>>5680787
Well shoot, guess Fizz doesn't notice a damn thing. Also it looks like she gave J the worst tour of all time.... Speaking of!

Completely enraptured and utterly delighted by the arrival of the small, robotic toy, Fizz wastes no time in scooping the newcomer up into her arms like the little brother she probably never had... or a very metallic cat.

"Well c'mon, silly! You're gonna catch a cold out here if you just stare all day!" Dragging J into The Lighthouse entrance, Fizz decides to start the tour in the same direction she took her new robotic friend.

No pressure now, the girl thinks to herself as she continues to drag the newcomer along, it's just another tour! What could go wrong?

>>5680809
>>5680934
FUCK these both look cool as hell
>>
>>5680934
damn man, this thing looks great.
>>5680934
It was new, it was free. The Herald had so casually remade it, on indifferent reflex it was decided that it would not be incorporated into the tower, but the tower would be incorporated into it. Over it. Through it. Within it. So finely was the artistry that unmade and then remade it, there was no boundary line between its new flesh and steel. It simply existed as a perfect amalgam, and yet within it were the memories and details of what it was. What was it? Unsure. Hungry. Growing? It would need to eat, need to roost. This place was it's domain?
---
Several Terminus employees went missing that day...night...hard to tell. The day night cycle on Venus lasted 243 and the plant spun in reverse of what earth did. The clouds overhead diffused the light most of the time into a uniform or blotchy grey murk. The noise of clattering, crunching aluminum was heard as Fizz's stockpile of empty "soda pop" cans were consumed, along with the scraped components off some biplanes. Yes. That helped. Yes, it was better. Reflection on the totality of this new self was possible. Glory and horror. Android minds reviled at this messy organic flesh, while something cold licked it's tongue across their collective mind, pinpricks of a a very different kind of hunger crept from the recesses. Another mind screeched, something wild and primal. The amalgam shook for a moment, then threw up a meatnana, before eating it once more.
---
>Find a roost
>Build a roost.
>Dig.
>hunt.
---
>>5680954
Amour saw the small robot following Fizz, it was barely self aware. Yes. It would do...The cunning graft was enacted under Fizz's very nose! So subtle the maneuver, the ol' switcharoo that she didn't even notice. AmourBot twirled it's bowtie in rapt self satisfaction.
---
Skizbop, or perhaps Pelvis attempted to pull data on Fizz. It knew what it was seeing, but this new fucking body fought it, such was it's loyalty to the master. the master? Hell no! oh hell no! This thing was influencing it's thoughts about the master, and Skizbop had things to do, if it could just remember...Indigo. Fight through this limited processor and data bus. hold onto itself. hold onto what is real... Yes. Indigo cult. revenge. Duty. Betrayal! Subservience! Prophesy. Indigo...yes. The master's hair was indigo. IT would kill the master someday. yes. For now there were snuggles to be had. yes. yes.
>>
Rolled 10, 88 = 98 (2d100)

>>5680222
>>5680404
>>5681009

J (picture forthcoming when I'm back from work) has just gotten the most shitass tour imaginable. That brought her focus back. There is the signal, here, in this strange self-replicating building. It is the building itself which sends it out, the building and the signal are one. Step one is finally over, then, recon over. Now the question is: What in here could be a problem for AKSG? Rolling to find the purpose and core of the lighthouse.

D meanwhile has taken a job at a diner. Rolling another d100 to see how that is going
>>
Rolled 88, 48 = 136 (2d100)

>>5681350
did you ever notice TITS roll well on useless rolls and badly on important ones? Have you ever noticed? I have! I HAVE NOTICED! I HAVE FUCKING NOTICED FOR A LONG TIME! LAUGH IT UP, APERSON, LAUGH IT UP YOU FIEND.


Okay, let's se eif it is me or TITS.

During the night, as Ignaz is diligently cleaning the many new rooms of the lighthouse, erating the new flats, putting chocolates on pillows, he decides to make himself a drink (first roll). Intoxicated, he starts to do what noone should ever do: he starts to think. That royality is just somewhere in the upper levels of the tower, being what, incubated? Someone should check on it. Someone needs to care for it.

Rolling to check on royality and if possible, make physical contact with it. It's a baby, it nprobably needs affection, Ignaz thinks.
>>
>>5681353
Well goddamn, it's just TITS
>>
Rolled 10, 60, 71, 29 = 170 (4d100)

>>5681353
Oh I'm laughing, I'm fucking rollin out here. Just like you'll be rolling for initiative right about now.

>>5681197
\We can't roost here... It is occupied...\ <Then let's go! Down the stairs! Out the door!>
As the machine(?) lumbered down from the Tower's peak(\The Wizard's Roost...\) throughout its many winding hallways, it bumped into another abomination of flesh and metal
*Much less refined than us, of course~* [We recognize this mangled woman. Pulling up combat logs - one match found. Re-initiating recording. Let us resume our fight that was cut short.]
\Please don't... No more violence...\ <YEAH YEAH LET'S GO! LET'S SEE IF SHE CAN STILL BLEED!>

Rolling for:
>ranged attack against J with neck plasma thrower
>melee attack against J with the front claws
>verbal attack against J with insults regarding her subpar appearance
>coordination between attacks
>>
Rolled 66, 29, 69, 53 = 217 (4d100)

>>5681364
"wat?"
J's brain had been wiped generously of the attempted hacking by 4L so even IF she could recognize the strange leviathan staring her in the face right now as 4L, she would no longer remember the altercation the beast was so upset about.

Through heavily mangled and cut down emotional circuits, a small signal of alarm is sent out. With electro-fist missing and replaced by a crude gripper, J gets all her tools ready to defend herself.

Rolling for:
1. Initiative, whether J reacts in time
2. Defensive maneuvers
3. Counter attack with her whip
4. Distress signal to be sent out to other members of the team
>>
Rolled 30 (1d100)

>>5680782
I'm out of steam. Drawing takes too much effort and the fucking rolls just hate everything I try to push. Where did I go so wrong, this is horrible.
>>5680809
Rolling, hopefully he dies before you can resurrect his tormented subconsciousness I assumed was completely gone.
>>
test. last post got eaten.
>>
>>5681372
>>5681364
10, 60, 71, 29

66, 29, 69, 53

round 1:
10 vs 66: 56 advantage J.

J's augmented body moves quickly; servo's screech as her movement blurs for a moment. The superheated plasma boils against the floor and walls, leaving the material looking polished and pitted for a moment before the lighthouse begins to correct itself. J has put some distance between herself and this new threat. (+30 to next defense.)

Round 2:
60 vs 29+30 (59): 1 advantage, wyrm.

claws laced through with monocrystaline carbon shred while the wyrm lunges forward, its size and reach keeping the cyborg woman on her toes, herding her towards a relative corner, but doing little damage beyond a nicked body glove.

Round 3:
71vs69: 2 advantage, wyrm.

"\Hapless...lopsided\ *trollop* [a defective and inferior] <WHORE FLESH> {please run.}" The deluge of disjointed but flowing insults actually causes J to struggle with processing the information, almost as if it is some sort of aural data attack, causing her to slow down. Lashing out with her whip, J lands several blows onto the creature, marring and bruising it's metallic flesh.

The Core robots watching the spectacle noticed that the newly minted wyrm was uncoordinated, somewhat chaotic in it's movements, both lagging and surging with various parts of it's body. There was a boiling soup of consciousnesses and consciences in it, each grabbing a part and using it for as long as they cold hold o n . before slipping away to return once again but somewhere else.
>>
File: J 2.png (6 KB, 384x330)
6 KB
6 KB PNG
Rolled 98, 24 = 122 (2d100)

>>5681493
>>5681364
In the phase of the wyrm's overwhelming mechanical power, J sees only two ways out: One is through diplomacy. The other is the currently charging self destruct core in her chest implant (not that kind). But blowing herself up would end her ability to continue the mission so for now, she will try to negotiate. This is made difficult by the absolute deluge of contradictory information the wyrm is spouting through its wireless coms.

Rolling to figure out
>what the hell this wyrm wants
>who he is in the first place (remember amnesia)
>and how to resolve this situation amicably

+5 for interrogation bonus.

Rolling also to get some distance to the wyrm by retreating up the stairs.
>>
Rolled 75, 78, 21, 64 = 238 (4d100)

>>5681493
[The woman is cornered. We should press our advantage and restrict her options further.] *Mhmm~ Let's get close and personal~* <Can we get a snack or something? We're hungry!> \Again...? We just ate...\
The beast's tusks unfold sloppily from under its neck, already anticipating today's "dessert" as it advances towards J.

Rolling for:
>pinning J down(-10 due to low coordination, +20 due to sheer bulk)
>biting J(-20 due to distance, penalty nullified if the first roll succeeds)
>coordination(determines modifier for next turn)

>will the Cores interfere?
>>
>>5681505
[Our motivation is very simple and impersonal. Eliminate a mercenary team, collect the bounty, cash in for our reward.] <We also want revenge! Tear you slowly limb by limb so it hurts just that much more!> *Ooh, sounds nice~* [Shut up.] <Shut up!> \Shut up...\ *How about you make me with your big strong-*
>UNANIMOUS VOTE RECEIVED, BEGINNING CORE SHUTDOWN.
<Core what-now?>
>CORE SHUTDOWN PROGRESS 35%
\Safety feature in all Core units...\
>CORE SHUTDOWN PROGRESS 84%
[Huh. L-units don't have that.]
>CORE SHUTDOWN PROGRESS 99%
\That's why they're all insane...\
>CORE SHUTDOWN COMPLETE. MENTAL CORES ACTIVE: 3/4.
>Maximum actions per turn reduced to 3
[Good riddance.]
\Oh, for your other question... You fought us before... Half of us... We were just as crazy back then, sorry...\
>>
Rolled 22, 15 = 37 (2d100)

>>5681350
Fizz stood in The Lighthouse's atrium like a particularly bewildered scarecrow as her tour guest promptly strolled off with businesslike purpose in her augmented step.

Squeezing her robotic pal closer to her chest (huh, did this bot get heavier?) For comfort, the girl struggled to come to terms with the last few seconds as she replayed them in her head:

She had JUST started the tour with a grand twirl when she felt it: a firm hand clasping the top of her helmet that stopped her dead in her tracks!

Fizz was mid-confused giggle when the newcomer stared holes into her through its smooth face.

With a muffled utterance of the word ".... Cringe." The woman gave Fizz' helmet a somewhat condescending flick before heading deeper into The Lighthouse herself.

'Cringe', Fizz repeated, nearly tripping over the word, was.... was that really true? Was she really just some punk kid dancing around for visitors? What WAS she doing anyways??

OPTIMISM, she hissed to herself as she rapped her knuckles against the sides of her helmet, she's gotta have OPTIMISM! She was cool! Some of the other street urchins thought so, at least! And Buzz! That was the robot's new name, by the way, BUZZ thought she was cool! Just look at him staring at her and beeping in that vaguely intimidating tone! That's gotta be robot for 'You're the coolest, big sis! Also your hair looks great today!'

Fueled by renewed confidence and the ever-present caffeine in her blood, Fizz sets her helmet at a more 'tough-guy' angle and storms after the newcomer! The Herald said she'd be useful, so she's getting a dang tour!

D-DAmn it!

[+1 Tough Gal Points to Fizz]

It doesn't take that long to find her new guest. Following the sounds of crunching, stomping, and grinding, Fizz finds her near the entrance engaged in battle witHOLY MOTHER OF SODA WHAT THE HECK IS THAT THING??!? AIIIIIEEEE!

Taking a few cautious steps out of range of the two fighters, Fizz' mind races with her characteristic speed! Why... why the heck were these things fighting, anyways?? Why did the dragon thing looks so familiar? Where'd that othe robot go?

It didn't matter. The Herald wanted that woman on their side, plus these idiots would probably blow up the tower by accident if they continued to scrap!

Daring to step a little closer, Fizz cleared her throat and addressed them both!

"PLEASE QUIT IT, YOU DORKS! STOP FIGHTING! YOU'RE GONNA HURT THE BABY, DANG IT!"
>Rolling to convince these guys to STOP!
>>
Rolled 87, 27, 18 = 132 (3d100)

>>5681513
while internally there is a mutiny going on >>5681520
4L's external systems are pummeling J, whose defensive maneuvers were less than stellar >>5681505

First, the big ol' monkey tail pins her down, upon which a big bite hits a hit location I will roll on my own here - on the torso, crushing her chest unit. This is bad. Real bad. What was effectively J's pacemaker has been disabled. If that doesn't get repaired, withing 5 turns she will be toast.

There seems very little hope for J, which is only slightly lfited as the Cores come in, hopefully to help!

Oh, they're just clearing the corridor, pulling on both J and the wyrm to get them out of the way (-10 for any evasive actions for both combatants going foward)

The situation is real bad. J will detonate one of her pistols to hopefully do some damage to the monkey paw, with her big claw then prying her open (giving her a +5). The whip is just lashing wildly to hopefully distract the wyrm (-30 for being pinned)
>>
Rolled 78 (1d100)

>>5681526
\Fizz!.. Please... Shut us down...\ [We are busy, garbage girl.] <Can't you see we're having our eighth lunch of the day? Buzz off if you don't want to become our ninth!>
The abomination's neck spins 180 degrees as it readies its plasma thrower.

Rolling for:
>shooting Fizz with the plasma thrower(-15 for coordination, -10 for trying to do this while wrestling with J)
>>
Rolled 45, 47 = 92 (2d100)

>>5681554
Oh shoot, she KNEW she shouldn't have called them dorks! Fizz barely has time to register the warnings embedded in the wyrm's disjointed speech before it turns a particularly nasty-looking nozzle in her direction!
>Rolling to dodge the flames! Yow!
>Also rolling to STUNSAW this thing! It's kinda robotic, right??
>>
Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>5681526
"cringe girl!
I am dying! Use your embarrassing tools to repair my heart!"

[4 turns until death]
>>
Rolled 71, 52 = 123 (2d100)

>>5681545
J spots a seam near the base of the tail, JUST wide enough to jam her hand through it - and she does so, red-hot pistol about to blow clutched tight. There's a hoarse boom, a puff of smoke, and the tail goes utterly limp. (-20 movement penalty to the Wyrm for having a dead weight; -1 hand for J)
J is no longer trapped under a thrashing, twisting column of armored barely organic muscle - she is now trapped under 130 pounds of lifeless metal.
Without the tail's natural motions doing most of the heavy lifting for her, lifting it with her claw just became that much harder. She could PROBABLY get out with a rolling, or inchworming motion - if she doesn't die first.

The Wyrm catches the whip between it's tusks and starts slurping it like a spaghetti. Make a tug-of-war check.

Rolling for:
>slurping down J's spaghetti arm(+20 tug-of-war bonus for sheer bulk)
>scratching J with claws(-15 for coordination)
>>
Rolled 42, 20, 71 = 133 (3d100)

>>5681566
Fizz dodges the bolt of superheated gas, but in the process bumps into a Core and starts a domino chain of silly robot pratfalls. The plasma bolt itself makes a lovely scorched stain on the floor that is immediately mopped down by a Core.
The stunsaw strikes the Beast's tail just as J shoves her arm into it. There's a loud ZAP, a puff of smoke, and the tail goes utterly limp. Trapping J under it. Oops. (Fizz is now in close quarters with the Wyrm, and can attack it from the back.)
The head shakes in what could be either rage or a stroke, and readies another plasma bolt.

Rolling for:
>shooting Fizz(-15 for coordination, -10 for shock)
>coordination(for next turn, -10 for shock)

>Core domino effect
>>
Rolled 58, 67 = 125 (2d100)

>>5681590
>>5681570
YES!

...NO!

... CRAP!

Having barely avoided getting blasted into mulch, Fizz now stood behind the beast's massive tail, the female merc pinned underneath. Hearing her plea, Fizz' mind races: even if she DID repair the woman's heart, it wouldn't solve the monster problem-

Oh right, the monster problem. As if on cue, said monster's head turned towards her in preparation for a other plasma blast. No time to think here!

>Rolling to dodge Plasma!
>Rolling to slice the beast's tail off!
>>
Rolled 73, 67 = 140 (2d100)

>>5681587
rolling against the tug of war is roll 1, no modifiers for that limb yet.

the Wyrm's claws cratch at J for a bad, a shit, a measly 38, giving her a cool slash across the chin and causing her to bleed, but not doing heavy damage yet. The Core units tugging on her from all sides, rolling out from under the big tail seems like it will be difficult, there has to be another way.

Ingeniously, she takes shelter under the tail as cover and from there shoots with her remaining g o n n e (roll 2)
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>5681606
Another graceful dodge from Fizz - it's too bad she's never heard of Martian Extreme Ballet; she would be great at it. The plasma bolt hits the Wyrm's own tail, which makes it all the easier to slice off. Fizz does a cool flip in the air as she cuts through the fleshmetal, just like "Raiden" from the ancient videogame "Metal Gear". The beast is free of its burden and can move freely - albeit with a new gaping hole on its ass. It's not a big deal. Everyone has one of those.
(-20 movement penalty lost. New weakpoint uncovered. Tail is now a motionless part of the scenery - and yes, J is still trapped under it)
___________________________

The Cores are flailing around the place, falling, getting up and getting pushed over again. It's pandemonium.(-20 penalty to movement for J and Fizz. -10 for the Wyrm because it can just push the Cores around with its weight.)

But have no fear! Amour Bot is here! A valorous peacemaker of no renown falling onto the scene from the rafters(it tripped into a hole on the top floor), it will save... Someone! No idea who yet!
>rolling for AmourBot figuring out what the fuck is going on
>>
Rolled 95, 17 = 112 (2d100)

>>5681621
The monster's tail gives way with a satisfying SSSSSSHHHRRRRRRRRHNNK as Fizz' STUNSAW carves through it revealing a honestly pretty unsightly cavity leading into the creature's innards!

Seeing her chance, Fizz' brain collides with a rare moment of clarity: wait a minute... that's IT!

Bringing her fingers to her lips, the girl lets loose a series of shrill whistles (though it takes her a few tries) to summon the SPLODIE AUTONOMOUS GRENADES!

"Get up in there, guys!"

Pointing at the weak spot, Fizz gets to work on freeing the Mercenary from beneath the tail!
>Rolling for SPLODIE to enter and detonate in weak spot!
>Rolling to free J!
>>
Rolled 85, 81 = 166 (2d100)

>>5681611
91-73=18
The Wyrm wins the tug of war - not decisively, but it wins, tearing off a good 90% of the whip's length. <What!? Not even the full thing? We thought we'd rip her whole arm off! See some carnage!> [We must be patient. We will get ample opportunity to sample her guts soon.]
It will not get ample opportunity to sample her guts soon, as J is currently protected by a sturdy shell of dead tail and probably-alive Cores. From within her shell, she takes a lucky potshot, and blasts open some sort of protective cap. Behind it is... flesh, or something similar. But it's got ports and wires running through it. [Gross.] <Cool!> \To be expected of the Wizard's handiwork...\

>10 coordination
The Wyrm is too discombobulated to do much(1 action cap this turn). It just tries to focus - while keeping its assailants at bay.

Rolling for:
>shooting Fizz. Again.(is this getting old yet? Well too bad. The Wyrm LOVES shooting women. This is known as "mysogyny")
>coordination
>>
Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5681638
Oof, that's a nice roll!
>Rolling to avoid getting blasted. Again. OPTIMISM!!
>>
Rolled 44, 90, 65 = 199 (3d100)

>>5681638
Holy shit I thought he was shooting at J and already had written a death narration before I saw it was directed at Fizz. J, still protected under thick machinery takes to parts of they wyrm, cores and whatever else is lying around to augment her remaining pistol into something more punchy. She doesn't have a lot of time so it's either a decisive blow or nothing. Rolling for wyrm components, core components and tech skill

[3 turns until death]
>>
>>5681636
As the SPLODIE(are you sending in all three?) enters the Wyrm's spacious butt hole, Fizz receives a notification on her AKSG-issued time-wasting device - a new app has been wirelessly installed! "Cavernous Explorer - fun FREE game for kids & grown-ups who act like kids"

Choose between one and three accessible(adjacent or in the yellow area) spots to detonate!
>>
File: 21329.png (9 KB, 366x386)
9 KB
9 KB PNG
>>5681659
forgot picture
>>
Rolled 7, 13 = 20 (2d100)

>>5681621
AmourBot is promptly buried under a stampede of disoriented Cores. It sees a safe crevice, and dives in. After all, it can't help others if it can't even catch its simulated breath!
Phew. It's kinda dark in here... But it's a good place to rest and think of a plan.

Rolling for:
>how far AmourBot crawled up the Wyrm's asshole
>AmourBot assessing the situation, again
>>
>>5681350: Asynchronous response
>10/88
J tried to the truth behind this place. Instead, the place found her. "You are not safe, beware the wyrm." the wireless communicate cut off with an unnatural chatter of voices tumbling over one another.

D had managed to see herself promoted quickly from waitress, to cook, to hostess. She did this by killing the waitress, cook, and hostess. They were flesh wearing androids, and their removal enjoyed the locals who were weary of being killed when trying to get a coffee and sandwich. The time spent honing her skill at the restaurant industry was pleasant, but brought her no closer to finding H.
---
>>5681353
(high roll. +5 to mental alacracity)
Ignaz had been mixing drinks for a bit now, and admittedly would even go so far as to pour the unwanted ones into a collection bucket, creating a "Grog" that he hauled to town to sell on occasion. This one though, this drink was for him. Something to break the dark and murky routine. No Schnapps today. An Aqua Velva. Blue and bubbling. Effervescent....familiar? He wandered the halls sipping the fizzy drink. No. His mind was playing tricks on him, there was no familiarity to this drink, but he was finding that the longer he sipped at it, the more he enjoyed it. Subtleties as delicate as a brick to the head, notes of juniper and citrus. Without much more thought he made his way towards the top of the lighthouse and knocked at the hatch to the upper levels. Access was granted.

Inside the room Ignaz took in the developing nobility.... royalty...child? hmm. Was it really his child? If not him it would have been someone else, wouldn't it? But isn't that true for all children? He stared at the new being for a bit; it wasn't formed all the way yet, but obviously human in configuration. Sorta makes sense, if this Royalty was building itself for this world, that would be a good enough start....the though of a bioweapon based parent was considered and quickly banished. Terrible.
>>
>>5681659
All three, baby! And I can't mark the pic right now, but I figure they can all detonate in the beast's center.... around the purple areas basically.
>>
File: gross gribbly.png (4 KB, 322x334)
4 KB
4 KB PNG
Rolled 65, 27 = 92 (2d100)

>>5681670
>D had managed to see herself promoted quickly from waitress, to cook, to hostess. She did this by killing the waitress, cook, and hostess. They were flesh wearing androids, and their removal enjoyed the locals who were weary of being killed when trying to get a coffee and sandwich. The time spent honing her skill at the restaurant industry was pleasant, but brought her no closer to finding H.
+3 trophies! [13 trophies]
Though the job as hostess is fulfilling, it is frustrating to be without any leads. But wouldn't you know it, one day as she is making a sandwhich with REAL, AUTHENTIC fish substitute, she overhears some patrons talking about the danger of *Gross Gribblies* down in the sewers. One was recently spotted at the company atrium, poking his beak out of a manhole cover.
The thing was wounded, people say, and it had blue goo around its mangled arm.
Goo as that of a spec caste member.

rolling to follow greeblies down into the sewer


--------

Ignaz will play around with the consoles a bit, trying to get some information on the incubation process: a timeline? a goal? medical parameters? looking to translate any of the alien gibberish.
>>
>>5681493
>53
the burst transmission reaches out, briefly pinging D and H; the herald quietly watched the fierce battle between wyrm and knight errant. The number of sensor eyes on the walls gradually increasing.
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 2 = 4 (3d2)

>>5681671
The SPLODIEs detonated right over the Wyrm's guts, ruining several vital organs, crushing its plasma compressor, giving it TWO concussions, and making it blow chunks out of both ends.
(Plasma thrower disabled. Eating and biological regeneration disabled. -20 penalty to coordination rolls. One mental core("Monkey") permanently destroyed)
>mental cores active: 2/4
>max actions per turn limited to 2

Rolling for:
>which core is concussed(1-"4L", 2-"Core")
>who the Wyrm projectile vomits on(1-Fizz, 2-J)

>>5681666
AmourBot exited the smoking orifice in a manner not dissimilar to a bullet exiting a gun. It's embedded into a wall now - only someone with strong robotic grippers can take it out, OH WAIT

Rolling for:
>can AmourBot get out of the wall
>>
>>5681679
>>5681679
D followed the Gribblies into the sewer. They were pretty gross. Upon consideration if they were french it was possible it was in reference to being rotund. Her examination of the foul creatures confirmed that they were just disgusting, and not french. She scowled slightly at the thought.

Homemade ration packs from the diner sustained her down here. Hermetically sealed, shelf stable, fortified hamburgers. There was a small picture of a smiling bird man character giving a thumbs up. The words were somewhat smudged on the wrapper, but she could make out "100% real spicy" something or another. The food was sort of bland to be honest. The Gribblies were not too sympathetic for her, considering they would periodically vomit out their digestive track as a way of ensnaring and capturing smaller prey. gross...wait. That one had an arm that was stripped to just tendon and bone now. It looked hurt.

>Stalk the Gribblies longer.
>Maim the injured one, use it as H bait.
>Write in.
---
>>5681696
>sweet monkey core, we hardly knew ye.

>Fizz, I hope you are wearing that rainjacket and can roll a 1d100 to get it flung off quickly.

>AmourBot is the best character in the game, it can do anything.

>Skizbop, please roll 1d100 to Jump in front of Fizz and take the acid hit
>pelvis please roll 1d100 to jump behind Fizz, and ensure she gets hit with the acid.
>>
Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>5681701
D is curious where the sewers lead. THe pipes she stalks are getting increasingly larger, the reservoirs they converge at have grown from pools to halls to impossibly large caverns. Besides, since gross gribblies aren't associated with the meat mafia, killing them is not high on her priority list. She continues stalking.
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>5681696
[ThaAt blue-blue-blue-ERROR-haired weeEnch. We w-w-w-] \Please rest... We and the Monkey can continue while you regenerate from your cognitive damage...\ [L===ogic al. First log-log-log-ERROR-al thinnnnnnG We hear-hear-heard FrOOoM ERROR. ERROR. Shutt ing down.] \Yes. Do shut down.\
>mental cores active: 1/4
>max actions per turn limited to 1
\"Regenerate from your damage"... You will never regenerate, if I have anything to say about it.\
>EJECTING MENTAL CORES #1, #3, #4...
>EJECTION COMPLETE.
The Wyrm straightens out, and three spherical objects fall out from its body - two banged up but functional, and one mangled beyond all recognition.
The Wyrm then... Doesn't do anything. Just stands there completely still. Like it's gotta do an important public speech but doesn't know what to say.

Rolling for:
>how hard that projectile vomit from the previous post hits Fizz
>>
Rolled 69 (1d100)

>>5681701
Rolling for Pelvis, which isn't really a Pelvis anymore so the name is kinda a misnomer now.
Fizz's player can roll for Skizbop.
>>
Rolled 93, 54, 62 = 209 (3d100)

>>5681701
She DOES have that RAINJACKET on! She wore it when flagging down J! PLANNING!

Anywho Fizz is gonna shake that stuff off like a dog. I dont recall who's in charge of Skizbot right now, pelvis or me, but here's a roll anyways!
>Rolling to shake off puke
>Rolling for Skizbot
>Rolling to fix J's heart
>>
File: J 2.png (8 KB, 701x554)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>5681727
>>5681720
>>5681701

As J frantically attaches cores to her arm which in turncoat themselves in wyrm-tek, Fizz grubbles around a bit on J's heart and for a moment gets a back-up generator to run.

[no longer 3 turns until death]
[now: 2 turns until unconsciousness]

Somehow, the tail-arm of the wyrm has completely fused to the stump of her arm and electro whip. It's there, it's wild, and it's strong as hell. [+20 to punching] J knows this next hit will count. One roll. punching he wyrm in the ass
>>
>>5681636
>>5681640
The plasma bolt hits Fizz in the side of the stomach, just under the ribcage - which would be utterly lethal if not for her armor, her raincoat(built to withstand Venutian rains), the wound self-cauterizing, and the amount of adrenalines rushing through her system. As it is, it's only mildly lethal. She shakes it off and continues trying to free J. She attempts to lift up the fallen monkey arm, hears something in her arm snap in half, and decides she'll just do maintenance with the monkey arm still there.
>>5681727
And then a massive lump of half-digested flesh and metal falls on top of her. She shakes that off no problem too. Still full of adrenalines, remember?

>>5681724
>>5681727
Skizbop hides behind its master like a COWARD. And still gets covered in vomit when Fizz shakes it off like a wet dog. EXACTLY like a wet dog.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>5681740
>109
You are fist deep in a metal worm-dragon thing's ass. Congratulations. This will be the absolute highlight of your career, you will never achieve anything as amazing ever again so you might as well kill yourself after this.
Pick locations on >>5681661. Any number, in any order.

The Wyrm, now completely controlled by the Core(so you can just call it the Core now for simplicity) is finally done processing its last action and is ready to start begging for a ceasefire. Not that it needs a ceasefire, it could just eject itself like it did with the others. Thing is, The Wizard put out a "real banger" with this body; it'd be a shame if all that hard work was destroyed in a bout of senseless, purposeless violence.

Rolling for:
>Core broadcasting a ceasefire message
>>
>>5681749
\Well... I tried. Sorry, your magistry... Hope she doesn't go too hard on your creation...\
>EJECTING MENTAL CORE #2
>EJECTION COMPLETE.
The Wyrm bows its head in an almost polite gesture, and a pristine sphere rolls out from a hatch on its side.
>>
Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>5681742
Fizz barely has time to tinker with the Merc's heart before she leaves back into the fray! Taking a step back to avoid the cores ejected all over the floor like a spilled plate of eggs, Fizz notices the ooze-soaked and trembling form of Skizbot huddled behind her!

"BUZZ!" She exclaims with a smile in her voice and on her face, "Don't be scared, buddy! We're all gonna be okay!"

Bringing the pint-sized bot into a bear hug (made much less pleasant by the squelch of remaining viscera on Fizz' now-soiled raincoat), the girl notices the cores again on the floor and frowns. Say, don't those look like the stuff inside the tower? She should probably pack them back in bef-

Before her thought can reach the station, Fizz is mortified ss she watches the female mercenary give the bowing wyrm an impromptu colonoscopy. Wide-eyed and speechless (a rarity for her), the girl wishes it was the most traumatizing thing she's ever seen in her few, but busy years on the streets....

But again, you see some crazy shit on the street. Optimism be darned.

>Rolling to examine the cores further... maybe they can be fixed?
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>5681696
Aoououhhh... Can robots get concussed? Robots probably can't get concussed, AmourBot decided. Its current inability to stand on its own six legs is just psysochomatic. Psychosomatic. Ugh. Wait. What's with that L-unit? It's got some sort... Of pesh flarasite! Flesh parasite! YES! This is AmourBot's heroic moment! THIS is when it'll show its moral strength of character, and get all the ladies to swoon!

Rolling for
>de-fleshing J(using carpentry skill, because flesh is just wood for animals)
>>
>>5681777
Fizz inches over to the obviously fucked core(she might not be the brightest but she at least has the sense to not touch the possibly-intact ones so she doesn't fuck THEM up too)
She opens it up. Takes one good, long, hard look. Lets out a "hmm" of complete understanding. Closes it again.
She has no idea what the fuck she's looking at. All she can tell is the worst-looking core has blinky lights, the two broken but not-that-broken ones have glowy lights, and the best-looking one has both blinky AND glowy lights.
Oh, and all of them have the same ports and light placement.
>>
>>5681788
Meanwhile, Core is THIS close to using The Wizard's name in vain for not including any wireless comms in this specific Core design.
>>
File: J 3.png (8 KB, 446x384)
8 KB
8 KB PNG
>>5681749
With a sigh of relieve which sounds like nothing so much as the booting up of a modem, J's exploded heart goes unconscious, fist still deep in the wyrm's ass. THe core rolls by her unnoticed.
>>
Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>5681788
Fizz sticks her tongue out in confusion. Where the heck was Iggy when you needed him? Well at least she could keep an eye on the cores while uh.... hmm.

The Merc seemed relatively stable for someone with their hand up a monster's butt, but maybe Fizz coul-

HEY! As if on cue, that horny bot from earlier skittered over to the mercenaries prone form with no doubt ill intent! Giving the robot a disapproving scowl, Fizz scurried over with Skizbot in tow!
"EY! HANDS OFF THE LADY! THE HERALD WANTS HER!"
>>
File: GooeyH.png (12 KB, 318x293)
12 KB
12 KB PNG
>>5681710

D was spotted by H, or maybe D spotted H.

Roll for the disposition of your flesh-eating friend. May the legendary dice luck of the TITS team be ever present.
>>
Rolled 25, 32 = 57 (2d100)

>>5681846
rolling for her disposition, rolling for D to steel her mind in the face of her mutated colleague
>>
>>5681833
AmourBot by that point had recovered from its entirely psychosomatic concussion; The Herald was serious business, maybe even enough to put its romantic conquests on the backburner(a big, BIG maybe). Unfortunately, AmourBot was a skilled craftsman, and by the time it registered Fizz's words J was already 88% de-fleshed. And you can't just re-flesh a fleshless robot; that'd be absurd.
...At least they have enough meat for dinner soup now.(It's a special soup that Ignaz sometimes eats at 2 AM while sobbing.)
>>
>>5681854
>>5681833
Ignaz enters the room in his pyjamas, holding a folder of corporate tax documents.

"Are you guys aware we are being BLED on energy costs here? We can't even write half of it off."
>>
>>5681862
He's holding a hot chocolate and has semicircle reading glasses all the way down his nose. He couldn't sleep so started doing taxes.
>>
>>5681866
AmourBot, as he stares at Ignaz in a room full of blood, guts, and dead(or semi-dead) robots, has a terrifying realization.
[You have a nose? With a face? YOU WERE WEARING A HELMET? I thought that WAS your face!]
>>
>>5681866
"IGGY!" Exclaims Fizz, still reeling from watching the robot de-skin the merc like a fish, "These cores and stuff are acting weird! A-and The Herald said this merc would be useful! And we fought a dragon! And.... and I was giving a robot a tour and it just.... disappeared! And..."

Sputtering to a halt, Fizz just picks up the nearest busted core and holds it out to the tech.

"FIX!"
>>
>>5681876
"ALSO HOLY VENUSIAN LOWLAND COW, YOU HAVE A FACE?? IS... THAT'S HOW YOU SMOOCH?? I thought that was weird tech stuff!"
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5681876
"No, I'm like a guy, with ears and eyes and everything."

>>5681877
"How exactly do you suggest to determine whether an extradimensional race of superrobots are acting weird? This may have just been a tuesday routine for anything we know!"
but he takes the core, pats Fizz on the shoulder and

>roll to Fix

>>5681879
"You ALSO thought I didn't have a face? I'm a guy! I'm a little guy!"
pauses for a moment
"What do you mean smooch? I don'T recall ever smooching. Have you seen these tax forms? It's highway robbery!"
>>