Taylor dropped his pants, socks, and shoes into his inventory to get rid of the flaming napalm, leaving himself with nothing except boxers below the waist. He clicked on a healing potion to restore his hearing and his health.
New Achievement: Stealin' My Look, Bro!
You have attempted to copy the dress style of a crawler who caught my eye before. Nice try, but I'm not that kind of AI.
Reward: A Silver Bitchy Box
For some reason I had it in my head that nitric acid was hard to get your hands on. I was trying to find a gold plating method that didn't require aqua regia. Since we have it, we can just use a gold coin as the anode and what we want to coat as the cathode to electroplate it.
We should start with something small and light enough that we don't lose a hand if gold grabber's protection doesn't apply to the object underneath the gold, but if it goes well we can have nails, razor blades, and/or throwing knives flying around the battlefield. I think it's worth testing next time we have some down time.
Their boxes had been, for the most part, dull. More health and mana potions, a few more scrolls of Confusing Fog, Heal, and Heal Critter, blah blah blah. The only interesting ones were the Silver and Gold boxes that Taylor had gotten in their latest fight. The Silver box had come from napalming Drew, the Gold from the second time he had used a Heal Critter scroll to pull Moose's health back from the deep red.
New Achievement: Fire Fragging!
You fragged your friend with fire! Or, in this case, napalm! Sweet! Granted, you healed him a second later, but it was still sweet! If you'd let him die I'd have given you something better, but they say that the best way to train an animal is to keep rewarding actions that get closer to the desired behavior, so here you go!
Reward: You have received a Silver Fragger Box
New Achievement: Good Doggy Daddy!
You are a good dog parent! You have saved your pooch from death more than ten times, and twice in this battle alone! Good for you!
This is one of the few achievements that can be awarded more than once.
Reward: You have received a Gold Good Boy Box!
The Silver box looked like a piece of carry-on luggage that someone had spray-painted silver. It unzipped itself and threw its lid open to reveal two dozen sacks of yellowish oil, each about a liter and with a small black button on the side. Taylor picked up one of the bags and examined it.
Kobold Fire Gel x24
Fuck that bathtub napalm shit, this stuff is, as that idiotic blonde sidekick of yours always says, the what! It burns hotter for longer! It comes with a built-in detonator! (3 second delay) It can be poured when you first open the bag, but it becomes sticky and jello-like within a few seconds, making it suitable for smooshing into tight spaces like keyholes and buttcracks! Sure, it's unstable as shit and might just go off in your hands if you're not careful, but it is still the what! Don't be a chicken, dump that napalm garbage! Kobold Fire Gel is the way of the future!
Stability: 50/50
In the time it took him to read the description, the stability had dropped to 43/50. He quickly pulled the stuff into his inventory and moved on, offering a silent thank-you that Calliope had not seen the description.
The Gold box was the size of a giant suitcase but shaped more like a hatbox. It was gold and had a bust of a three-headed dog on top of it. The left head was snarling, teeth bared. The right head was grinning, tongue lolling in canine joy. The middle head was making derp face.
The box bounced up to Taylor and spun around three times before coming to a halt. Even then it vibrated eagerly until he reached out and touched the statue. At that point there was a booming WOOF! that made everyone, especially Moose, jump. The box poofed away and Taylor was left holding a giant chunk of metal.
Enchanted Chanfron of the Bellus Canis Legionis
The canine cavalry legions of the Shiyyan Empire are among the most feared military force on their world. Heavily armed and armored, the mounts are as or more dangerous than the riders. Many a barbarian has surrendered (after peeing himself) at sight of the Legions drawn up in line abreast on the other side of the field. Fortunately for those barbarians, the Legions' mounts are very good boys who would never hurt a prisoner.
+3 Constitution
+3 to the Legion Rush skill
It's armor and it's got a fuck-off spike on the front, duh
Skill: Legion Rush
(Skill Level) times per day, your speed and mass are multipled by (Skill Level) for (Skill Level) seconds and you become invulnerable for 500 milliseconds. You must be in motion to activate this ability.
The shape was so unfamiliar that it took seeing the last item in the benefits list to realize what it was: a piece of armor for Moose. It covered his snoot and cheeks, with leather straps that went over his head and behind his jaw to hold it in place. There were large eye holes and a four-inch barbed spike sticking out from between them. It was made of a lightweight irridescent metal with veins of gold running through it in patterns of leaf and vine.
Out of curiosity, Taylor tried putting it on himself. The metal stopped an inch away from his head and an invisible loudspeaker let out an angry BZZZT!!!
This armor is not usable by your race.
"Ohhhhkay then," Taylor murmured. "You don't have to shout." He looked over to where Moose was happily spinning in circles trying to catch his own tail.
"C'mere, Moose," Taylor called, holding the armor out.
The big dog stopped his play and came over to see what was on offer. He was disappointed to discover that it did not involve doggy treats, but clearly curious at what this contraption was. He went over the metal carefully with his nose, twice, then gave it an experimental lick. Satisfied, he sat down and panted happily while Taylor fitted the device on him. It wriggled and pulsed for a moment, then resized itself to fit perfectly.
Moose gave his head an experimental shake, then a stronger one. He leaned back and bayed, long and loud and excited, and then looked at Taylor with the happy and expectant expression that he always wore when there was a Walk (!) in the near future.
Taylor laughed and ruffled under the dog's chin. "Okay," he said, standing up. The others had finished their boxes a couple minutes earlier and the food was already packed up; it was time to go.
"Team Trick Shot, ho!" Taylor said, grinning. "Let's go show these bastards who's trapped in here with who."
"Booyah!" Calliope said, pumping her fist.
"Heck yeah!" Drew said. He frowned. "Hang on, I always forget this one. They're trapped in here with us, right?"
"Yes, Drew, they're trapped in here with us," Taylor said, chuckling.
Drew nodded in satisfaction. "Nailed it. C'mon, let's go kill these things."
o-o-o-o
"Stop giggling," Taylor growled.
"I'm not gigging," Calliope said, before breaking out into more giggles.
"It's not that funny."
"It was a little funny," Drew said. He patted Taylor on the shoulder. "Just a little, but it was."
Taylor growled in irritation, glaring at the dirty rotten stinkers who dared call themselves his 'friends' despite the constant mockery and horrible cruelty they heaped upon him.
"C'mon, Unc, you've gotta see it, right?" Calliope said. "The expression on your face when the paper smacked you in the nose was priceless."
Taylor harumphed. In truth, it probably had been funny for those as weren't on the receiving end.
They had managed to find a section of dungeon where the threat level was lower, meaning that the Vespa were level 10 to 12 instead of 14 to 16 and they traveled in groups of three to five instead of six to ten. After thinking and planning and preparation, Team Trick Shot was ready for them; the team had bags of fire gel with built-in detonators. They had a pair of Super Soakers loaded with DNP-infused Everclear. They had more of the stuff in a pressure washer that could shoot it forty feet. They had bags previously filled with bathtub napalm that were now filled with more of the insecticide, plus a Distributor Cap. It hurt to just dump the napalm out like that, but the description on the fire gel had said to do it and Taylor wasn't sure if that had been an actual directive from the AI or not. If it had then he wasn't about to risk disobeying unless it was absolutely essential, which this wasn't.
Taken all together, Team Trick Shot had enough of a power advantage over the monsters that they could afford to experiment a little. Taylor decided to try something he'd been thinking about for a while, namely soaking his yo-yo in napalm and using it to throw fire. He wasn't an idiot; he knew the fire was going to come out in a radial disk aimed back at himself. That was what the Pyrophilia spell was for. He also made clear to the team (and therefore to the AI) that he was only using the napalm for initial practice and would be using the fire gel in actual combat. The warning had made him feel smart, like he'd covered all the angles. That feeling went away quickly.
The process hadn't worked as well as he would have liked. The enchanted Skyhawk tended to sluice clean easily, meaning the napalm didn't stick well and instead most of it simply slid off when he pulled it out of the bag. He tried duct-taping toilet paper around the perimeter in order to give it some grip, but had neglected the fact that yo-yos spin at around 8500 RPM. The napalm flew out in a quick splatter and then the toilet paper ripped free and smacked him in the face.
"It was an experiment," he groused, dropping into the safe room chair. "It's expected that experiments don't always work."
"Fair," Drew said, lighting up and leaning back. The laughter had stopped, replaced with a fond smile. "Gotta say, that fire breathing one worked way better. The cocoons burn real good."
"I know, right?" Calliope said, her eyes bright and her grin manic. "Unc, you were great! You were all spitooey, and they were all fwoosh!" She gestured widely as she spoke, miming giant flames.
In truth, the firebreathing had indeed worked well. Taylor had taken a mouthful of pure Everclear and spat it across a torch, focusing on making as fine a mist as he could while he stood ready to slam on his Pyrophilia spell if he accidentally set his face on fire.
Nope, the fire did almost exactly what he wanted. He didn't manage to atomize it completely, so there were still unburned blobs of alcohol and it wasn't the smooth fireball of professional circus performers, but it was more than enough to turn an abandoned Vespa cocoon into a torch. The goop inside the cocoons dried out fairly quickly after the Vespa hatched, and once it was dry it was a brilliant accelerant. The firebreathing itself hadn't been a problem, but the rapid ignition of the cocoon had scorched some of Taylor's hair before he could jerk back. After that, the team made a point of picking up all the cocoons and dried Vespa birthing goo that they could find. No one had immediate thoughts on what to do with them, since the fire gel was better, but in the unforgiving environment of the dungeon it was clear that 'thing that burns real good' would be useful sooner rather than later.
"Yeah, it did," Taylor said. He eyed Calliope. "As did all the other experiments."
She giggled harder at his unamused glare, but managed to get herself back under control. "It's true, it's true," she said, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just...you looked like Professor Fuzzlewumpus that time he tried to knock the papers over and ended up falling off the desk with everything raining down on his head."
Taylor couldn't help but smile. It was true; Calliope's childhood cat had in fact looked hilarious. Surprised and offended, as though someone, somewhere, had somehow cheated and he wasn't quite sure who or how.
"What did you call that other stuff?" Calliope asked. "Piranha solution?"
"Yup," Taylor said, nodding. "Three to one sulfuric acid and hydrogen peroxide. They use it for cleaning organic materials off of things." It had been one of the most successful things they'd used yet; pour the stuff into an empty can, drop in an activated Distributor Cap, seal the top with duct tape, and throw. The tape wouldn't have held up for more than a few seconds, but that was all that was needed. Vespa eyes and wings essentially disintegrated if they so much as brushed against the piranha solution. As Moose had discovered, once the Vespa were on the ground they weren't a problem. Indeed, the only problem was crossing the acid-misted segment of corridor afterwards. There was a tendency to damage shoes and paws in the process.
"How are Team Valkyrie doing with the stuff?" Drew asked. The two teams had gotten together briefly for a teamup against a Vespa hive that neither could have handled alone. Afterwards, Taylor had given them a half dozen cans of the 'piranha bombs', along with instructions on use. He'd also given them six of his fire gel bags with instructions to keep them in inventory until the last possible second. The instability timer ticked down ridiculously fast in the hands of anyone who didn't have Taylor's incendiary-related skills and when it hit zero the stuff went everywhere in a shower of welding-hot sticky fire.
"Pretty well," Taylor said. "Tina messaged me about half an hour ago saying they blew the crap out of a nest of a couple dozen high-level Vespa. It got them all a level."
"Sweet," Calliope said.
Drew yawned, covering it only halfway through. "I am absolutely wiped. We stayed out too long."
"Yeah," Taylor said. "Sorry about that."
"Not your fault, man. I was having fun too. Anyway, too tired to eat. Ima go sleep for a billion years. See you guys later." He shuffled over to the Bopca, rented a room, and disappeared.
Calliope's eyes were drooping and she snapped awake. "I'm fine!"
"I know," Taylor said, hiding his smile. "But I'm with Drew. Time for bed. Catch you in a while."
Calliope was mostly asleep in her chair by the time Taylor had finished the brief process of handing over a few coins in exchange for a rented cot. He called Moose's name and jerked his head towards Calliope. The big dog nodded, then padded over to Calliope and snooted at her (carefully, so as not to kill her with his new forehead spike) until she woke, then looped his head under her arm and hoisted her to her feet.
o-o-o-o
Exhausted they might have been, but the team was also too nervous and hypervigilant to sleep long. Taylor tossed and turned for thirty minutes before he managed to drift off, and woke not long enough later. The steady decline of the level timer would not let him go back to sleep, so he groaned his way out of bed and to the shower.
It was a slow morning, an hour and a half spent grumping through coffee and breakfast, then sitting around without the energy to get going.
Eventually, Calliope got the men on their feet and bullied them into doing a few basic stretches and gentle soccer drills to get the blood moving. It helped, although Taylor and Drew both felt the need to mock-grumble and -gripe about 'whippersnappers and their energy' and 'back in my day, we respected our tired elders.' Calliope smiled throughout.
They spent three hours grinding. The Vespa were in large groups now, none less than eight members and average levels around 15. Team Trick Shot could no longer afford to engage hand-to-claw. They stuck with acid and fire, melting the wings and eyes off the enemy and taking them out once they were grounded. It was good for another level each, two for Moose, putting the humans at 13 and Moose at 14.
"I think the AI likes you, boy," Taylor said, ruffling the dog's ears. Moose had grown with each new level and was now the size of a large Clydesdale, meaning that his back was slightly above Taylor's eye level, and he still had one more level before reaching full size. The chanfron had politely resized itself at each growth spurt.
Moose panted happily, tongue hanging out in his trademark doggy smile.
"Yeah, he keeps out-leveling us," Calliope said, her voice caught somewhere between amusement and complaint.
Moose's smile got wider.
Personally, Taylor was delighted at the dog's growth. The only reason the team was alive was because of Taylor's incendiaries. He'd been getting a steady trickle of loot boxes that kept him in fire gel, remote triggers, and Detonator Caps, but if that supply ever ran dry then the team was going to be in a lot of trouble. Moose's combat power might be the only thing that kept them alive long enough to make it to the stairs.
Even that might not be enough. The dog's stats were monstrous for the second floor, but they were also highly lopsided. His Strength of 35 meant he could instantly destroy any Vespa he could get his teeth into, and his Constitution of 34 meant he could take a huge amount of damage before needing a Heal Critter scroll. On the other hand, the Vespa were getting faster as they leveled up and Moose's Dexterity was still only 4. The wasps were getting better and better at flitting to the side when Moose lunged at them and they always followed up with a vicious stab from their stingers. On two occasions he'd been swarmed by half a dozen of the things and would have died were it not for a quick Pyrophilia spell and fire gel bomb. Even then, getting the barbed stingers out of him had required a Heal Critter scroll after each extraction, and Taylor only had two of those left.
They were in the middle of fighting a swarm of ten Vespa, each level 15, when they popped out of the dungeon to be on Omusa's show. It wasn't an accident; they hadn't known exactly when their interview would be, but Levi had said it would probably be about now, so they had intentionally searched out a large and powerful group in order that the alien otter would have a dramatic clip to show. The fact that they had been in the middle of the fight instead of done with it was a bonus, given that it played well to the 'Saved' part of Second Stringers Saved's theme.
The production trailer was different than before, substantially larger but more bare-bones. There was no carpet and the walls were bare, unpainted metal of some faintly purplish color. The snack table was set up but there were no makeup tables. Helen was waiting for them.
"Hello," the little frisbee said. "I'm afraid there is no time for discussion. Your pickup was delayed and we go on air in one hundred and eighteen seconds. Please follow me into the studio."
Taylor snagged a couple of croissants and fistful of doggy treats as they passed the snack table. Moose was appreciative.
Omusa's holo projection appeared almost the instant that Taylor's butt touched the chair.
"Greetings, greetings, greetings," the otter said. "Exciting times I see. Glad you made it, glad you made it." They looked around to see that Drew was smoking, Calliope's skateboard and Taylor's yo-yo were in position, and Moose was sitting politely, wedged in between Taylor and Calliope. With all three of them seated, the big dog's head towered over those of his humans. He hadn't quite come to grips with the new size difference; he had tried to lean affectionately on Taylor and nearly knocked him out of his chair. Taylor braced himself and thumped the dog on the shoulder affectionately.
"Thanks," Taylor said. "You've been watching our feeds, yeah?"
"Indeed, indeed, indeed! Got some good action clips. The audience will love it."
"Cool."
"Rolling in five," Helen said from her position by the door. "Four, three..." She went silent but pulsed blue for 'two' and 'one'.
The audience popped into existence, filling every seat in the giant virtual theater. The spotlight came up on Omusa and they spread their arms wide.
"Greetings, greetings, greetings, fellow sapients!" the otter said. "Welcome back to Second Stringers Saved! We've got a great show for you tonight."
The audience cheered, and whistled, and roared, and twinkled. It was disconcerting.
"My guests tonight are a quartet who are rapidly moving up from the ranks of 'second stringers'—good thing we found them early, eh?" The audience cheered in their various alien fashions. "Without further ado, let's introduce them." He looked at Taylor and gestured; a spotlight snapped on. "Yo-yo player, chemical warfare expert, and team leader...Taylor Stone!"
The audience went bonkers.
"Gravity-defying skater and teenage badass, Calliope McCormick!"
More cheers, and a few proposals both decent and not.
"Master of smoke and smoking, spearman supreme, wielder of the fundamental force of gravity itself, Drew Bennett!"
The cheers were thunderous, although perhaps not quite as much so as for his teammates, and yet more proposals.
"And last but not least, the mighty yet still adorable...Moose!"
Moose, it would appear, was the fan favorite. The giant dog reveled in the applause and let out an appreciative howl that nearly burst Taylor's eardrums.
With the introductions out of the way, the individual spotlights dimmed and were replaced with a more even wash of light.
"How are you guys doing today?" Omusa asked.
"We are fantastic," Taylor said. "We've been murdering everything in our path, we leveled up, and to put the cherry atop the day, we get to be here with all of you!" He waved to the audience. The audience went nuts, stomping their feet, whistling, and trilling.
"Boy oh boy oh boy have you ever been murdering everything," Omusa said. "And the audience loves it." They waved a hand and numbers shimmered into existence over everyone's head.
"Totally deserves it," Taylor said, reaching up to scritch Moose's ears. The dog leaned down to make it easier, his eyes drifting closed in pleasure.
"Thank you for the follows and faves, everyone," Taylor, nodding to the audience. "Let me just say: if you haven't subscribed yet, you're going to want to. You think we've been impressive so far? Just wait and see what's in store. The dungeon keeps escalating with bigger and stronger monsters? Fine. We can escalate too, and we can do it faster. On Earth, humans are the undisputed masters of escalation, and everything in here is going to learn that."
"Bold words," Omusa said, smiling. "I've gotta say, so far you've been backing them up, too. Let's see some—"
Taylor held up a hand. "Hey, before you put the clips on, could I ask a quick favor?"
Omusa cocked their head in surprise, then wagged a finger. "Now, now, now. You know we can't give you loot boxes. Tsk, tsk, tsk." There was a smile in their voice.
"I would never," Taylor said, crossing his heart. "No, I just have a question. You have our entire feeds on record, right?"
"Unc, what are you doing?" Calliope asked suspiciously.
"We certainly do," Omusa said. "Why do you ask?"
"We got into a fight a bit ago," Taylor said. He named the time that had been left on his level timer. "It's the first time I set myself on fire and climbed up on a Vespa. Would you mind showing that one? I've got a bet on with Calliope that said you would."
"Hey!" Calliope said.
Omusa threw their head back and laughed. "Some might call that...what's the Earth term? 'Dirty pool'?"
"Eh," Taylor said, shrugging. "There's a saying: old age and treachery will always beat youth and energy. Call it a life lesson." He nodded solemnly. "Very important for elders to pass on their knowledge to the next generation."
Omusa laughed again. "I think we can make that happen. While my production team scrambles around getting that clip together, let's take a look at some other highlights!"
The lights faded, replaced with the glowing screen that showed the host and the guests what the audience was seeing.
It was a montage, showing Team Trick Shot murdering increasingly over the top numbers of Vespa in increasingly over the top ways. Hand weapons and pressure washer, then escalating to firearms, then to napalm, then to the far more dramatic fire gel, then to the various chemical devices that Taylor had created, and ending with Drew using Gravity Anvil to crush a hive of three dozen Vespa. The clips wove a narrative that hadn't matched reality; the team's battles had been a mix of different tactics instead of the continuous and linear change that was being shown.
The fight scenes shifted over to show the team handing incendiaries to Team Valkyrie, which was even more out of sequence than the rest since that hadn't been their first encounter. Fifteen seconds of Team Valkyrie's clips followed, showing the women getting steadily more desperate and surviving only because of the tools Taylor had provided. That also didn't match the reality.
The final clip showed Taylor on fire and climbing up onto the Vespa. It had been edited slightly, making the clumsy and desperate scramble look graceful and filled with purpose. It ended with Taylor dropping into his heroic three-point stance, then flipping his hair out of his eyes and growling at the Vespa's corpse, "Tricked you, motherfucker" before staring straight into the camera for three long seconds.
The screen faded away and the lights came up.
"Looks to me like you owe Taylor a prize, Calliope," Omusa said, smiling broadly. "I've turned your inventory on for five seconds."
Sour as lemons, Calliope pulled out a crème brûlée and slid it over to Taylor.
"Perhaps a spoon?" Omusa suggested.
Calliope's face got even more sour, but she pulled out a spoon and passed it over. The audience was laughing and hooting.
Taylor tipped an imaginary hat to her and leaned back in his chair, enjoying his delicious dessert while the audience continued to laugh and cheer.
"I'm paying under protest," Calliope said, her sour expression now marred by a slight smile. "You're a cheating cheater, Unc."
"Old age and treachery, my dear," Taylor said. "Old age and treachery. Oh, my, this is so yummy. Mmm-mm!" He made a show of savoring the custard, rolling his eyes in nigh-orgasmic pleasure.
"So what do we think, folks?" Omusa asked the audience. "Fair or foul? By applause, who thinks Taylor asking for that clip makes him a dirty cheater?"
Applause pounded across the audience, going on for a good six or seven seconds before it started to peter out.
"All right, all right, settle down," Omusa said, patting the air to calm the last traces of noise. "Now, by applause, who thinks Taylor asking for that clip makes him a brilliant tactician who is offering the youngster important wisdom?"
The crowd went wild; Omusa let it go on and on, only waving it down when it started to get uncomfortable.
"Sorry, Calliope," they said, turning to the girl. "I'm afraid the crowd is against you. Your uncle was entirely fair and not at all cheating." They nodded in sagely fashion.
"Harumph," Calliope said, sticking her tongue out at Taylor and then folding her arms in exaggerated fashion. She held the pose for a moment before relaxing and straightening up with a smile. "I suppose I'll just have to take it." She wagged a finger at Taylor. "Of course you know, this means war."
"Heh," Taylor said, setting the now-empty ramekin on the table and pushing it slightly away. "Bring it, short stack."
The audience laughed again.
"And on that note," Omusa said, "I'm afraid that's our time, folks! We'll see you again tomorrow. I think you'll be excited about who we have on next. Here's a hint: they love purple!"
The audience was still cheering when the stage lights went down and the imaginary theater blinked away, leaving the team in an empty metal box.
Damnit. Taylor had wanted another chance to talk to the audience. He hadn't realized that their time would be so short, or that so much of it would be spent on the clips.
"Nice job again," Omusa said, scratching their jaw to let the fur escape from its restraining hair gel. "The audience loves you guys. Drew, sorry we didn't get to you."
Drew waved in pot-assisted relaxation. "No worries, my dude. No worries."
Taylor tensed, hoping that Omusa would not consider 'dude' to be a gendered term and get offended.
If they were, the otter gave no sign. "You folks are doing great," they said. "Keep doing what you're doing. Piece of advice for you: Don't go down early if you can possibly avoid it. It will absolutely tank your numbers, and right now you're on track to break a trillion views before you go down. There are always some good classes that depend on your social numbers, and a trillion views is a standard threshold.
"When you do go down, you'll find yourselves in a short hall that leads directly to your guild hall. Do not speak directly to the audience, but keep in mind that you'll have a lot of sensory organs on you."
"Sound excited but not spazzy, speculate about what races and classes we might get?" Taylor asked.
"Exactly. It's almost like you've done this before." The otter grinned, lips curling up without opening.
"Not to an audience this big, but yeah," Taylor said. "Leo, nice job with the dessert thing. Sorry to spring it on you, but your reactions needed to be honest."
Calliope stuck her tongue out at him, but it was purely pro forma and she smiled afterwards. "S'all good. Annoyed me at first, but then I realized what you were doing and I thought it was pretty funny. I'm still going to get you back."
"Cool," Taylor said. "It'll make great TV...or tunnel, or whatever this is."
"Sensestream," Omusa said. "You guys are naturals."
"Anything we can do to make this easier for you?" Taylor said. "Anything that will help you boost ratings or sell merch?"
Omusa's nose twitched. "I'm impressed. Crawlers hardly ever ask that." They shook their head. "For now, just keep going as you've been. I'll be having you back for the mid-floor slot on the third floor, but the time on that isn't set yet. It'll probably be somewhere between noon and three on the midpoint day. Depends on the schedule for the production trailers."
"Any idea what the level timer is going to be?" Calliope asked.
"No, sorry. It's got to be at least a day longer than the second floor. I'd expect it to be more than that since the various secondary programs need the time."
"Secondary programs?" Taylor asked.
"Yeah, the third floor is the Overcity. It's an open-world level, outdoors instead of in tunnels. A lot of private companies run their own programs embedded within the crawl. They'll get a storyline together and use various mobs and elites to act it out. Most of it is stereotypical schlock—cops and yakuza, rape and revenge, that kind of thing. Still, some of these shows catch on and get an audience. They can generate a huge amount of money, and if they do well enough then when the floor collapses they'll be able to move their stories and characters down to the sixth floor. Very successful shows can get a third season on the ninth floor and then even migrate out of the dungeon and become a regular thing. It's a great way to test a concept. Production costs can be very low—the mudskippers are providing the setting and the mobs so the company only needs to pay for a few elites to serve as main characters and drive the plot."
"What are 'elites'?" Calliope asked.
Omusa waved dismissively. "Special high-level mobs. Don't worry about it for now. Focus on getting through this floor first." They glanced up and to the side. "I've gotta run. Nice chatting and good luck!"
They winked out, leaving the team alone.
"Come, please," Helen said, hovering into the studio. "I can give you four minutes with the snack table before I need to send you back."
"Sweet," Calliope said, jumping to her feet. "Dibs on the Nutella."
Author's Note: I once set a friend's loofah on fire practicing firebreathing in her shower. I replaced it. (The loofah, not the shower.)
Voting time! What do you do next? I was late getting this out, so let's say that voting ends Saturday,
or when there have been no votes for 24 hours.
Mixing classical Alchemist for preparation and a Battlemage, with the Battlemage part focussing on abilities that synergize well with fighting with chemicals/Alchemy (like elemental manipulation to 'waterbend' napalm -> slap enemies with the napalm, then set it on fire) and maybe some utility/support magic (maybe summoning potions 5* skill levels lower than Alchemy skill for just mana)
Any ideas on how to keep escalating? Because I don't think we can manage chlorine trifluoride and I'm not sure how else to top what we've already done chemically.
Any ideas on how to keep escalating? Because I don't think we can manage chlorine trifluoride and I'm not sure how else to top what we've already done chemically.
[X] Action Plan: Levels + Subscribers = Power
Word: tbd
Look for neighborhood bosses
Continue social network showboating, try to get everyone over a trillion subscribers
Levi Sanity check: should we hold off on going to the next floor until we get 1 trillion subscribers? Are the potential race unlocks worth the wait? Follow his advice.
Included running the idea by Levi, rather than just assuming. The race unlocks may not be that great, or the cost of waiting may be higher than the benefit of getting those unlocks.
The plan still has Taylor trying for a trillion, but gates the actual "wait or not" decision behind Levi's advice.
Included running the idea by Levi, rather than just assuming. The race unlocks may not be that great, or the cost of waiting may be higher than the benefit of getting those unlocks.
Should also run the rest we heard by him (overcity, side programs, runners interacting with the side programs, elites)
There may be more stuff he can't tell us until we ask about it.
Plus start having race change + class discussions.
Again, a furry group would be odd and therefore interesting and all members of Team Trickshot have something that is plausibel and could fit them very well.
For the record, that red gas you see during the synthesis of the 2,4-dinitrophenol is nasty and corrosive. It smells a bit like swimming pool chlorinator mixed with wasabi.
