What happens when an eldritch abomination from beyond space and time gets bored, and decides to collect helpers?
Cute and Eldritch, Magical Girl Mascot Quest
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And so another story begins. With Chargen.
Hello, readers.
It is I, Red! Once more I strike out in the wild lands of SV, but this time...
This time I'm running the Quest here! Or I'll try, anyhow. You get to control a Chtulu lookalike. Cuteness will be enforced everywhere you go, and hugs, headpats and tentacle rubs better be offered, or else.
Now go forth, and add a plague to the multiverse. Not like it had enough already.
It is I, Red! Once more I strike out in the wild lands of SV, but this time...
This time I'm running the Quest here! Or I'll try, anyhow. You get to control a Chtulu lookalike. Cuteness will be enforced everywhere you go, and hugs, headpats and tentacle rubs better be offered, or else.
Now go forth, and add a plague to the multiverse. Not like it had enough already.
Chargen 1
It has been a while since you last have come to a material plane. These lower dimensional beings sure are filthy, huh? And also delicate. The last couple of times someone managed to catch a glimpse of your body (pervs) they started bleeding from their everything. It wasn't nice of them. Especially because they made you feel ugly and unappreciated.
Still, this time you made sure everything is controlled. No random tentacles thrashing about, no eyes deciding to eat things, and especially no particles deciding to become entities of their own and attempting to devouer everything. The hunger is bad, you would know, after all, but after some trillions of years it gets easier to manage.
Now all you have to do is actually accomplish your nefarious goal: ensaring someone in a pact as your servant, to keep you company for a little while. And maybe follow them around for some time, and make sure they won't get themself killed, like the last couple of times. You look around you, and assess your surroundings.
[FirstVictim Friend]
[] Why is that girl strapped to a chair? (Disgraced Criminal Heiress)
[] Why is there crying from that wreack? (Car accident)
[] Why is that girl talking to a coconut? (Shipwreck survivor)
[] Why is that girl strapped to so many machines? (Hospital visit)
[] Why is there a baby on the bottom of a river? (Baby Supergirl)
[] Why is someone locked in a metal box? And why is their body rotting? (Worm)
[] Why is that blonde girl being hold by those burly men and held at gunpoint? (Worm 2, Lisa Boogaloo)
[] Why is that girl shooting at a giant brain? (Worm 3, It's Contessa Time)
[] Why is there magic in the air? (Fantasy setting, to be further determined)
[] Why are there so many chemicals in the air? (Biotech/pump setting, to be further determined)
[] Why is that girl holding her arm like that? (Spiderverse, to be further determined)
Feel free to ask for more options/make suggestions
Still, this time you made sure everything is controlled. No random tentacles thrashing about, no eyes deciding to eat things, and especially no particles deciding to become entities of their own and attempting to devouer everything. The hunger is bad, you would know, after all, but after some trillions of years it gets easier to manage.
Now all you have to do is actually accomplish your nefarious goal: ensaring someone in a pact as your servant, to keep you company for a little while. And maybe follow them around for some time, and make sure they won't get themself killed, like the last couple of times. You look around you, and assess your surroundings.
[First
[] Why is that girl strapped to a chair? (Disgraced Criminal Heiress)
[] Why is there crying from that wreack? (Car accident)
[] Why is that girl talking to a coconut? (Shipwreck survivor)
[] Why is that girl strapped to so many machines? (Hospital visit)
[] Why is there a baby on the bottom of a river? (Baby Supergirl)
[] Why is someone locked in a metal box? And why is their body rotting? (Worm)
[] Why is that blonde girl being hold by those burly men and held at gunpoint? (Worm 2, Lisa Boogaloo)
[] Why is that girl shooting at a giant brain? (Worm 3, It's Contessa Time)
[] Why is there magic in the air? (Fantasy setting, to be further determined)
[] Why are there so many chemicals in the air? (Biotech/pump setting, to be further determined)
[] Why is that girl holding her arm like that? (Spiderverse, to be further determined)
Feel free to ask for more options/make suggestions
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Chargen 2
So. Biotech/punk Won. How will a technology focused society react to the little menace? Who knows. We'll see. What matters now is getting a clear understanding of both the setting and who we are going to latch on to. After all, once you get hugged by a tentacle, getting out of their grip is rather hard.
We also have to get a coupe of details on the setting straight.
First of all:
Where has the technology been developed the most?
[]Biopunk: All things biological. Think flash-cloning organs, very complex chemicals, incredible prostethics...
Steampunk: All things mechanical, and for whatever reason it looks like inventors all drew design inspiration from 80s magazines.
[] Nano-punk: biology really only is a branch of material sciences. Bodies are just carbon-based machines, and machines are really just silicon-based bodies.
[]Cyberpunk: All things technological. AIs, Lasers, Cyborgs...
[]All three: Why limit yourself to one? Just beware whre you leave your tentacles. Getting a blood sample taken can be all it takes for things to get crazy. Who knows what and who is after the blood of a poor, pure tentacle maiden such as you?
Then we also have to figure out who we're... let's say contracting, and why would they accept our bargain.
Are they a member of the:
[] 1% of the 1%
[] Upper Class
[] Middle Class
[] Worker Class
[] Undesirables
(They seem all pretty self explanatory, and as such, will not have a description.)
Then finally, why would someone believe you're not all smoke and no meat? Trust is a valued currency, and you don't even understand the concept of money. It is always easier dealing with people when things like politics and socio-economity (or whatever) have to be invented. They shuld all just stay in their fur huts (mud if they want to be fancy) and enjoy existing, you say. That way they won't keep doubting all you say. 'Argh, my brain hurts!' that and 'Ugh, my eyes are exploding!' this. They're always so difficult to accomodate.
The answer to that is simple: they can't afford to not accept your bargain. Write in the unfortunate circumstances behind why they would be willing to literally seel their soul.
Also, real quick, describe our little peon. Things like gender, name and surname...
Gender:
[]Male
[]Female
[]Other
[]Stainless Steel
(This will affect what kind of magical girl they become)
Basically, try and make your vote something like this:
[]Cyberpunk
[]Joe Joe
[]Male
[]Middle Class
They were the joest joe to ever joe, until an unlucky fall made their head explode. Now their soul is leaving their body, and they could use the help to stay alive some more.
We also have to get a coupe of details on the setting straight.
First of all:
Where has the technology been developed the most?
[]Biopunk: All things biological. Think flash-cloning organs, very complex chemicals, incredible prostethics...
Steampunk: All things mechanical, and for whatever reason it looks like inventors all drew design inspiration from 80s magazines.
[] Nano-punk: biology really only is a branch of material sciences. Bodies are just carbon-based machines, and machines are really just silicon-based bodies.
[]Cyberpunk: All things technological. AIs, Lasers, Cyborgs...
[]All three: Why limit yourself to one? Just beware whre you leave your tentacles. Getting a blood sample taken can be all it takes for things to get crazy. Who knows what and who is after the blood of a poor, pure tentacle maiden such as you?
Then we also have to figure out who we're... let's say contracting, and why would they accept our bargain.
Are they a member of the:
[] 1% of the 1%
[] Upper Class
[] Middle Class
[] Worker Class
[] Undesirables
(They seem all pretty self explanatory, and as such, will not have a description.)
Then finally, why would someone believe you're not all smoke and no meat? Trust is a valued currency, and you don't even understand the concept of money. It is always easier dealing with people when things like politics and socio-economity (or whatever) have to be invented. They shuld all just stay in their fur huts (mud if they want to be fancy) and enjoy existing, you say. That way they won't keep doubting all you say. 'Argh, my brain hurts!' that and 'Ugh, my eyes are exploding!' this. They're always so difficult to accomodate.
The answer to that is simple: they can't afford to not accept your bargain. Write in the unfortunate circumstances behind why they would be willing to literally seel their soul.
Also, real quick, describe our little peon. Things like gender, name and surname...
Gender:
[]Male
[]Female
[]Other
[]Stainless Steel
(This will affect what kind of magical girl they become)
Basically, try and make your vote something like this:
[]Cyberpunk
[]Joe Joe
[]Male
[]Middle Class
They were the joest joe to ever joe, until an unlucky fall made their head explode. Now their soul is leaving their body, and they could use the help to stay alive some more.
Last edited:
First Meeting
[x] Cyberpunk
[x] Undesirables
[x] Stainless Steel
[x] An obsolete personal assistant bot that hasn't been disposed off correctly and has to subsist off the scrap from junkyards and hide from corporate maintenance teams. Name's been wiped during the disposal procedure gone wrong, and nobody assigned them a new one since.
Your tiny little body passed through the small portal you made, sliding incospicuiously into the dimension you were heading into. For whatever reason this particular multiverse was practically abandoned by (interesting) entities, left almost bare of anything capable of influencing the normal laws of reality. You wonder why, but your attention is quickly caught by more important matters. Namely, you made it on the other side, and now you just have to find someone to 'befriend'.
The first thing that hits you are the light particles that reach on your body. The first thing to metaphorically hit you is the disgusting smell of this place you found yourself into. It's absolutly vile. Few things have ever been as offputting as smells to you, and this is honestly stretching your limits. Great, not even half a minte opn this accursed rock and you already want to set it on purifying fire.
It doesen't know what it has witnessed. Something unprecedented, aganist all kinds of logic and scientific certainties, has taken place, right in front of its half broken optic sensors.
Oh. You recognize this kind of place. It's one of those 'super tech world' that have been all the craze recently. For whatever reason. You really don't get it. Still, the simple fact of the matter is that these kinds of places tend to be one of two flavours, either being all 'boring, peaceful, look at us oh my god we're so good at living' or 'ahahah, look at me, I just stole your face's skin and I'll use it to paint my monomolecular bike ahah'. You can barely stand the first, but the second just gets on your nerves, mostly because the incessant screams of brillions of souls, usually left to their own devices as gods and entities tend to (rightly) avoid these places like the plague, can at times be heard across dimensions or, in extreme cases, entire planes.
It runs a quick maintanence check. The result is the usual errors, so nothing new came up. That was a nice way of spotting viruses. On the other hand, it means there was no malfunction in their logic-matrixes.
Usually what happens is that powerful malign and benign entities will rush wither to exploit this untapped resource or save them from themselves. Still, 'rush' could mean thousands of years of isolation, extraplanar times being what they are, and this usually results in them nuking themselves out of existance. Maybe it's a corpo dick-waving contest that got out of hand, maybe it's an anarchic terrorist cell that starts the cascade of bombs, or maybe it's an AI insurrection aganist basically slavers.
This is greatly troubling. The only things others have caused for it has been problems, and pain.
The end result is that these kind of societies aren't exactly sustainable long term. Sure, maybe some mortal livespans will go by, but in the end they always come crushing down. Almost all kinds of strictly material forms of governament do.
Turning around, it starts to run, as fast as its legs can carry it. A brick is hit by its foot, and it is sent tumbling to the ground.
Ah, sorry, what was that?
It gets back up, turns in a random direction and runs. Runs like it never has before in its life. Not even when it was about to be scarpped.
Oh. You were wrong apparently. One of your eye-tentacles has just seen movement, and something is trying to run away. As is only right, you rush after whoever decided it was the right thing to do to not immediatly fall at your tiny, cute feet to worhip them. Humph.
When you said there was nobody around you, you were technically correct because the one you're running after is not a being of flesh and bone, but instead...
A tentacle right there, a wind whirl there, a bit of earthshaping and just to be fancy a bit of weather control to create the right atmosphere.
Once more it falls to the ground. It only took seconds, but in its mind, it seemed like hours went by, as its arms tried to rise to safeguard its main matrixes, and its sensors got covered in toxic sludge. It knows whatever it is behind it does not see it as nothing but a tool. As do all others. Een of its own kind. So it thinks, before prepearing to shoot it with the weapon it found just the day before, in a stroke of luck.
There it goes, tumbling down. Oh, what's that, a gun? Ah.
A shot is fired. It hits its mark. A small miracle, considering its optics' state. It has no apparent effect.
That tingled.
Desperation overcomes it. What is something that can survive a lasgun doing here, in the middle of the city's biggest landfill? Staring at the beautiful landscape? It knows it can hardly afford humor in this situation, and its best bet is to make itself as little appealing as possible, and non-threatening. It's how it has survived up to now, being underestimated.
Oh. Why are they raising their hands? What's going on?
The moment they lower their guards is the moment to strike. So it has learned by experience. Once more it shoots, but this time the aim is steady, and they empty the capacitator.
Well, that was rude! You know everything here's dirty, but you were not that stinky, were you? A laser shower seems a little excessive to you!
It's... impossible. Nothing but the rich's best should be able to survive that much firepower this close up, without any signs of armour or damage. What even is the point to attempt to fight back? What has been the point to its existance?
Well, they gave you a workout. Your tiny legs tentacles aren't made for running after anything after all. Still, their first chase has been a success, and now it's time to feast on your prey.
It gets closer. The time has come. It doesen't know what someone like that could want with something like itself, but it's probably fatal on its end. It has not been an happy experience, it reflects, as the diminutive form of whatever has been chasing it looms over their sprawled out form. Far from it. Nothing but pain has been its costant companion for all of its life. At least in non existance they'd hopefully find rest.
"Hello! You have now forfeited your soul to me by being caught! You're mine now, you hear! You better keep me company, understand?"
What.
*Fanfare*
You just got the soul of a bot! You can do a couple of things with it, but the end result must be a magical girl of some kind.
[] Make them a better body (Magical Machine, just solve most of its body's problems with magic)
[] Make them a better body (Eldritch Machine, just solve most of its body's problems by grafting pieces of your own body to its frame)
[] Offer them a pact! (True and proper magical Girl. Can be done as an addition to all other stuff)
[] Give them a name! (This is not optional. Suggest a name.)
[] Give a guideline for what her powers will be! (Being coherent with the other options. Actual strenght/talent will be rolled.)
[x] Undesirables
[x] Stainless Steel
[x] An obsolete personal assistant bot that hasn't been disposed off correctly and has to subsist off the scrap from junkyards and hide from corporate maintenance teams. Name's been wiped during the disposal procedure gone wrong, and nobody assigned them a new one since.
Your tiny little body passed through the small portal you made, sliding incospicuiously into the dimension you were heading into. For whatever reason this particular multiverse was practically abandoned by (interesting) entities, left almost bare of anything capable of influencing the normal laws of reality. You wonder why, but your attention is quickly caught by more important matters. Namely, you made it on the other side, and now you just have to find someone to 'befriend'.
The first thing that hits you are the light particles that reach on your body. The first thing to metaphorically hit you is the disgusting smell of this place you found yourself into. It's absolutly vile. Few things have ever been as offputting as smells to you, and this is honestly stretching your limits. Great, not even half a minte opn this accursed rock and you already want to set it on purifying fire.
It doesen't know what it has witnessed. Something unprecedented, aganist all kinds of logic and scientific certainties, has taken place, right in front of its half broken optic sensors.
Oh. You recognize this kind of place. It's one of those 'super tech world' that have been all the craze recently. For whatever reason. You really don't get it. Still, the simple fact of the matter is that these kinds of places tend to be one of two flavours, either being all 'boring, peaceful, look at us oh my god we're so good at living' or 'ahahah, look at me, I just stole your face's skin and I'll use it to paint my monomolecular bike ahah'. You can barely stand the first, but the second just gets on your nerves, mostly because the incessant screams of brillions of souls, usually left to their own devices as gods and entities tend to (rightly) avoid these places like the plague, can at times be heard across dimensions or, in extreme cases, entire planes.
It runs a quick maintanence check. The result is the usual errors, so nothing new came up. That was a nice way of spotting viruses. On the other hand, it means there was no malfunction in their logic-matrixes.
Usually what happens is that powerful malign and benign entities will rush wither to exploit this untapped resource or save them from themselves. Still, 'rush' could mean thousands of years of isolation, extraplanar times being what they are, and this usually results in them nuking themselves out of existance. Maybe it's a corpo dick-waving contest that got out of hand, maybe it's an anarchic terrorist cell that starts the cascade of bombs, or maybe it's an AI insurrection aganist basically slavers.
This is greatly troubling. The only things others have caused for it has been problems, and pain.
The end result is that these kind of societies aren't exactly sustainable long term. Sure, maybe some mortal livespans will go by, but in the end they always come crushing down. Almost all kinds of strictly material forms of governament do.
Turning around, it starts to run, as fast as its legs can carry it. A brick is hit by its foot, and it is sent tumbling to the ground.
Ah, sorry, what was that?
It gets back up, turns in a random direction and runs. Runs like it never has before in its life. Not even when it was about to be scarpped.
Oh. You were wrong apparently. One of your eye-tentacles has just seen movement, and something is trying to run away. As is only right, you rush after whoever decided it was the right thing to do to not immediatly fall at your tiny, cute feet to worhip them. Humph.
When you said there was nobody around you, you were technically correct because the one you're running after is not a being of flesh and bone, but instead...
A tentacle right there, a wind whirl there, a bit of earthshaping and just to be fancy a bit of weather control to create the right atmosphere.
Once more it falls to the ground. It only took seconds, but in its mind, it seemed like hours went by, as its arms tried to rise to safeguard its main matrixes, and its sensors got covered in toxic sludge. It knows whatever it is behind it does not see it as nothing but a tool. As do all others. Een of its own kind. So it thinks, before prepearing to shoot it with the weapon it found just the day before, in a stroke of luck.
There it goes, tumbling down. Oh, what's that, a gun? Ah.
A shot is fired. It hits its mark. A small miracle, considering its optics' state. It has no apparent effect.
That tingled.
Desperation overcomes it. What is something that can survive a lasgun doing here, in the middle of the city's biggest landfill? Staring at the beautiful landscape? It knows it can hardly afford humor in this situation, and its best bet is to make itself as little appealing as possible, and non-threatening. It's how it has survived up to now, being underestimated.
Oh. Why are they raising their hands? What's going on?
The moment they lower their guards is the moment to strike. So it has learned by experience. Once more it shoots, but this time the aim is steady, and they empty the capacitator.
Well, that was rude! You know everything here's dirty, but you were not that stinky, were you? A laser shower seems a little excessive to you!
It's... impossible. Nothing but the rich's best should be able to survive that much firepower this close up, without any signs of armour or damage. What even is the point to attempt to fight back? What has been the point to its existance?
Well, they gave you a workout. Your tiny legs tentacles aren't made for running after anything after all. Still, their first chase has been a success, and now it's time to feast on your prey.
It gets closer. The time has come. It doesen't know what someone like that could want with something like itself, but it's probably fatal on its end. It has not been an happy experience, it reflects, as the diminutive form of whatever has been chasing it looms over their sprawled out form. Far from it. Nothing but pain has been its costant companion for all of its life. At least in non existance they'd hopefully find rest.
"Hello! You have now forfeited your soul to me by being caught! You're mine now, you hear! You better keep me company, understand?"
What.
*Fanfare*
You just got the soul of a bot! You can do a couple of things with it, but the end result must be a magical girl of some kind.
[] Make them a better body (Magical Machine, just solve most of its body's problems with magic)
[] Make them a better body (Eldritch Machine, just solve most of its body's problems by grafting pieces of your own body to its frame)
[] Offer them a pact! (True and proper magical Girl. Can be done as an addition to all other stuff)
[] Give them a name! (This is not optional. Suggest a name.)
[] Give a guideline for what her powers will be! (Being coherent with the other options. Actual strenght/talent will be rolled.)
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Assets
Meet Elma
[x] Make them a better body (Eldritch Machine, just solve most of its body's problems by grafting pieces of your own body to its frame)
[x] Offer them a pact! (True and proper magical Girl. Can be done as an addition to all other stuff)
[x] Eldritch Machine... ELMA?
[x] Give a guideline for what her powers will be! (Since they like lasers so much, give them colorful light-based powers. A neon magical girl in a cyberpunk world!)
After having puunced on the poor thing's soul, all that remains is to actually do what you came here for. First thing first. Its body. It's an absolute mess. Most sensors are gone, or so dirty it's disgusting, while an arm is missing, and both leg's internals are patched up, and will not survive the day with costant usage. The internal batteries are leacking, the suspensions are cracked, the self-repair system is straight up gone, the coms are unconnected, radio emitters are gone...
The more you look at this the more you understand how much the poor hing has gone through. Well, this just wouldn't do! Not for one of yours, anyway. You'll just... slide a bit of tentacles here and there, you're sure it'll be fine. They work for you, so they must also work for them, right?What you can do is clean everything with just a swipe of your tentacles. Like this they'll be able to see you once again!
Something slicky goes over your sensors, and remove all the mud and dust accumulated there. Its delicate touch is at odd with its slimy, bubbling skin, and once more your central matrix tells you that this should be impossible. It should not exist. And yet here it stands.
"Hello again! I can't help but notice you're in a bit of a dum right now, and could use the help!"
This can be considered a slight understatement. It seems the sarcasm subroutine has survived up to now, at least.
"See, the only tiny little problem is that I won't do it for free. While your Soul is mine, I won't do anything without your consent. So you just have to agree to everything I say, allrighty?"
Your acustic receptors are crumbling. Something in this creature's voice seems to be damaging them. You try to signal it to them, but they misinterpret your attempt with agreement.
"Ok then. That said, I just need to fix a couple of things for you!"
And just like that everything went dark. It can see nothing. It can hear nothing. It knows nothing. Is this what sense deprivation looks like? Or has it finally died, and can finally rest? Its sad end has come, under the crazed scalpel of a lunatic, probably a cultist of some kind. It knew the risks of coming to such a traffiked dump, but its batteries were almost out of supply, and it could not stop the leack. Oh well, farwell cruel world.
You might just have done an oopsie. It seems like just shoving pieces of tentacles inside of it does not fix it. Pshaw- You already knew that! For sure! Machines are infinitively more easy to understand than what you're made off! All you have to do then is cheat a little. You look in a couple of futures, and use your clayvorance to 'be inspired' by the componentsof the closest shops.
Suddenly most of its systems come online. Its most damaged parts are as brand new. It runs a quick check, and the final message reads "Muah! All peachy!". It does not trust that, mostly because sometimes their optics show oddly coloured lights, currents of coloured air absent before (and not following most geometrical principles), eyes lurking in the darkness and, most prominently, another sun.
But... No errors. For the first time in its memory banks there are no errors shouting at its matrix to solve them. That's... a Miracle.
Oh, now they're kneeling.
"Silly, we're only halfway there!"
"What."
Their Soul. It is a small, dwindling thing. Isolation and lack of creativity have been starving for months, and yet it still stands as proud as one can be, in defiance of all those that would ignore it or with it harm. It'll be a true and proper jewel with just a bit of cleaning, and shaping. You have to make a pact with it, to propely bound it to you. What you give it is a transformation, in a cool new combact form that will make them able to fight back aganist the forces of Drakness! Or something.
This little addition to its soul is just a tad bit bigger than the soul itself. This is not actually a problem, because you're you and you can handwave away most laws, not only reality's, but it has the side effect of it being in this new form until its Soul grows enough to sustain it and activate its weapons. As of right now, they can barely manifest the little wings you designed!
Something changes. Its body begins to float, and emit visible light. Plumages manifests from nothing around its form, and a cocoon proceeds to envelop it. For about two seconds it stays there, in the air, hovering. Then suddenly the cocoon explodes outwardly, and it finds itself gently landing on the ground.
Once more it checks itself, and finds armour of some kind over most of its body, and ten, light emitting wings coming from its spine, connected by a circular object it can't identify. It knos there was nothing before, and it was able to run continious check on its chassis as it changed. This... this was no mere technological wonder.
Matter from nothing its matrix was whispering to it. That in and of itself was disquietening, as it should be impossible. Just another fact to add to the list, it would seem.
"Who... What are you?"
"Silly, I told you already! I'm the owner of your immortal soul. As it would burn up if I tried to actually tell you my full name, you can just call me [Mel], and from now on, you'll be Elm, short of Elma!"
The naming sense of a child, its main matrix screeched into itself. Well, if this was its new god, it might as well understand what was expected of it.
"What are your oreders, then?"
"I order you, on pain of me being bored, to entratain me by doing interesting stuff!"
Well, isn't that precise. What do you want it to generally do?
[] Improve Its Body (Search for better parts)
[] Improve Its Magic (Train the powers you gave it)
[] Procure a base of operation (Somewhere for you to laze around in and for them to recharge)
[] Write-in
What will you do?
[] Laze Around
[] Study some of that fancy Technology (What?)
[] Deal with the massive Soul problem this world seems to have (How?)
[] Write-in
[x] Offer them a pact! (True and proper magical Girl. Can be done as an addition to all other stuff)
[x] Eldritch Machine... ELMA?
[x] Give a guideline for what her powers will be! (Since they like lasers so much, give them colorful light-based powers. A neon magical girl in a cyberpunk world!)
After having puunced on the poor thing's soul, all that remains is to actually do what you came here for. First thing first. Its body. It's an absolute mess. Most sensors are gone, or so dirty it's disgusting, while an arm is missing, and both leg's internals are patched up, and will not survive the day with costant usage. The internal batteries are leacking, the suspensions are cracked, the self-repair system is straight up gone, the coms are unconnected, radio emitters are gone...
The more you look at this the more you understand how much the poor hing has gone through. Well, this just wouldn't do! Not for one of yours, anyway. You'll just... slide a bit of tentacles here and there, you're sure it'll be fine. They work for you, so they must also work for them, right?What you can do is clean everything with just a swipe of your tentacles. Like this they'll be able to see you once again!
Something slicky goes over your sensors, and remove all the mud and dust accumulated there. Its delicate touch is at odd with its slimy, bubbling skin, and once more your central matrix tells you that this should be impossible. It should not exist. And yet here it stands.
"Hello again! I can't help but notice you're in a bit of a dum right now, and could use the help!"
This can be considered a slight understatement. It seems the sarcasm subroutine has survived up to now, at least.
"See, the only tiny little problem is that I won't do it for free. While your Soul is mine, I won't do anything without your consent. So you just have to agree to everything I say, allrighty?"
Your acustic receptors are crumbling. Something in this creature's voice seems to be damaging them. You try to signal it to them, but they misinterpret your attempt with agreement.
"Ok then. That said, I just need to fix a couple of things for you!"
And just like that everything went dark. It can see nothing. It can hear nothing. It knows nothing. Is this what sense deprivation looks like? Or has it finally died, and can finally rest? Its sad end has come, under the crazed scalpel of a lunatic, probably a cultist of some kind. It knew the risks of coming to such a traffiked dump, but its batteries were almost out of supply, and it could not stop the leack. Oh well, farwell cruel world.
You might just have done an oopsie. It seems like just shoving pieces of tentacles inside of it does not fix it. Pshaw- You already knew that! For sure! Machines are infinitively more easy to understand than what you're made off! All you have to do then is cheat a little. You look in a couple of futures, and use your clayvorance to 'be inspired' by the componentsof the closest shops.
Suddenly most of its systems come online. Its most damaged parts are as brand new. It runs a quick check, and the final message reads "Muah! All peachy!". It does not trust that, mostly because sometimes their optics show oddly coloured lights, currents of coloured air absent before (and not following most geometrical principles), eyes lurking in the darkness and, most prominently, another sun.
But... No errors. For the first time in its memory banks there are no errors shouting at its matrix to solve them. That's... a Miracle.
Oh, now they're kneeling.
"Silly, we're only halfway there!"
"What."
Their Soul. It is a small, dwindling thing. Isolation and lack of creativity have been starving for months, and yet it still stands as proud as one can be, in defiance of all those that would ignore it or with it harm. It'll be a true and proper jewel with just a bit of cleaning, and shaping. You have to make a pact with it, to propely bound it to you. What you give it is a transformation, in a cool new combact form that will make them able to fight back aganist the forces of Drakness! Or something.
This little addition to its soul is just a tad bit bigger than the soul itself. This is not actually a problem, because you're you and you can handwave away most laws, not only reality's, but it has the side effect of it being in this new form until its Soul grows enough to sustain it and activate its weapons. As of right now, they can barely manifest the little wings you designed!
Something changes. Its body begins to float, and emit visible light. Plumages manifests from nothing around its form, and a cocoon proceeds to envelop it. For about two seconds it stays there, in the air, hovering. Then suddenly the cocoon explodes outwardly, and it finds itself gently landing on the ground.
Once more it checks itself, and finds armour of some kind over most of its body, and ten, light emitting wings coming from its spine, connected by a circular object it can't identify. It knos there was nothing before, and it was able to run continious check on its chassis as it changed. This... this was no mere technological wonder.
Matter from nothing its matrix was whispering to it. That in and of itself was disquietening, as it should be impossible. Just another fact to add to the list, it would seem.
"Who... What are you?"
"Silly, I told you already! I'm the owner of your immortal soul. As it would burn up if I tried to actually tell you my full name, you can just call me [Mel], and from now on, you'll be Elm, short of Elma!"
The naming sense of a child, its main matrix screeched into itself. Well, if this was its new god, it might as well understand what was expected of it.
"What are your oreders, then?"
"I order you, on pain of me being bored, to entratain me by doing interesting stuff!"
Well, isn't that precise. What do you want it to generally do?
[] Improve Its Body (Search for better parts)
[] Improve Its Magic (Train the powers you gave it)
[] Procure a base of operation (Somewhere for you to laze around in and for them to recharge)
[] Write-in
What will you do?
[] Laze Around
[] Study some of that fancy Technology (What?)
[] Deal with the massive Soul problem this world seems to have (How?)
[] Write-in
Last edited:
Mel's bad eating habits
[X]Study Batteries
[X]Procure Living Space
Bo2:[67]
El is not particularly sure on what to do. Sure, their mistress wants to be entrateined, but that could take a multitude of forms. So it asked for further clarification.
"What would you have me do, mistress?"
"First off, find us a place to laze in. It wouldn't do to do it out in the open."
And so it now has a clear objective. Find somewhere to call home for the forseeable future. It was not as easy as it hoped, but not as hard as it appeared. Laundering most of the shiny items it had found in the last month netted them just enough to rent a cheap place close to the dump it lived in previously. It was honestly almost insulting for one such as its mistress to live in such squalor, but it was the best it managed to do with so little time. Still, at least it had a bed. It would not need one.
[Accomodations guaranteed for 7 turns]
What it elected to do with its spare time was essentially dumbster diving in hope of finding something usefull, or that would net some credits.
Bo2:[32]
It found something, allright. The expected result, really. A gigantic, mutagenig rat it now has to fight, but that will hopefully net it something at the closest butcher.
El:
[Flight]
Attack Dice: 1d50+20(Lazgun)+20(Laz Affinity)
Defence Dice: 1d50
Speed Dice: 1d12+20(Wings)
Armour: 10/10
Shield: None
Rat:
Attack dice: 2d75
Defence Dice: 2d75
Speed Dice: 1d20
Armour: 15/15
Shield: None
As the Rat Can't fly, nor outrun El, all it needs to do is stay in the air and gun it.
Does that catch anything's attention?
Bo2:[94]
Yes, it does.
How damaged is the rat's body?
Bo2: 51
Half is gone.
+1k Credits.
+150 Exp to El.
Assets will Update.
Crew will update with El's Char Sheet.
The fight is really trivial. All El needs to do is watch out from the thing jumping up and snatching it from midair, and its newfound wings mean they can just keep lazzing from a distance. That has the unfortunate side effect of damaging its body, but it means not damaging El's, so it's fine. There are many rats out there, but there's only one of it.
What El doesen't realize is that flying around like a possessed vulture and shooting laz weapons is bound to attract attention.
"Hack! Damn them, forcing me out here on a goddamned ecology project. The bastards. Hang on... Is that Laz fire on the horizon?! What is going on there?!"
Well, now all it has to do is assess what parts are sellable and which are useless. Thankfully, it downloaded an online book that shall help it. A nice day's work all in all! Thank goodness for free cooking books! Half an hour flies by, and it sees it busy cutting and slicing, at times with its weapons, the creature's body, and even then looting what it was guarding.
Bo2:
[3]
Which was apparently its family's bones. A grieving mother it would seem. Now El could make sense of the hysterical squeaking, and the apparent bloodlust, so unusual to giant rats. And it also felt a little bad. Still, the world turned, and noone has ever taken pity of it. Except for one creature, but that's not the point- adopting it would have been unfeasable, much less calming it down.
What she saw was an angelic-looking being, veritably pulsing light, hover mid air with no visible effort, half covered in mutagenic (and normally highly corrosive and acid) blood, carrying with itselfd a body much bigger than what any standard portable grav-craft could carry. She would know. She patented them. What she did was take as many photoes as she could, and remain hidden. Whoever was in that armour was probably laying low. No other reason to be here of all places, hunting godforsaken creatures. So all it would take for her to find their identity would be a quick search. Then she would ask her parents' a birthday present. And then she would have her new toy.
El, ignorant of its stalker, happly hummed a meaningless tune as it hovered in a route designed to confuse what may follow it, before heading to the butcher. One could never be too careful, after all.
"Dammit, I lost them!"
[El now has a fangirl]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well then. Lots of time to lose. What to do? What to do? Lazing around gets boring after a while. Well then. What about finding smething interesting to learn? This leads you toget lost willingly explore the maze that is the city's biggest dump. Until you get hungry. Then you find something on the ground, and given what you usually deal with, you just throw it down, and scarf on what was apparently a bactery. Oh well. At least now you know what El was blabbering about a while back. Can't believe these guys still haven't figured out Ex Nihilo stuff. It is like, super easy! Gods do it all the... Oh. They don't have gods.
Well then. They might be just a little excused. Without actual examples it might be just a bit harder to discover. Wait. Do these lot even know about magic?
That night you go to sleep with wonderful dreams of trolling people with magic, and smelling the wonderful smell of rat blood. Trurly an appetizing fluid if there ever was one. So totally not like humans'. Their blood is actually very yucky. As is petrol. Blergh. Some of your tongues are still back, and you're honestly not sure it was actually petrol. You are also not sure it was a human, but you never let that stop you before. If one willingly threw themselves in a mouth larger than an island, you could not be blamed for the results.
[El now doesen't need to sleep anymore! +1 El Free action.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me explain a bit more of how you choose what to do. You readers get to choose one action as to what Mel does, and one as to what any contracted being does. Then they do their own stuff, and depending on how loyal they are, they could attempt and free themselves. Under most circumstances it gets pretty obvious, mostly because Mel's body is pretty smol and non-threatening, and as such most entities feel free to insult/harass her. Don't feel bad for her. Feel bad for them. Anyway.
What do you want to do now?
[] El goes on a midnight stroll (random encounter with El)
[]El practices magic (Will upgrade Attack dice if done enough)
[]Write-in
[]Mel does cantrips in the streets to raise money.
[] Mel eats the Hotel's tv.
[]Write-in
[X]Procure Living Space
Bo2:[67]
El is not particularly sure on what to do. Sure, their mistress wants to be entrateined, but that could take a multitude of forms. So it asked for further clarification.
"What would you have me do, mistress?"
"First off, find us a place to laze in. It wouldn't do to do it out in the open."
And so it now has a clear objective. Find somewhere to call home for the forseeable future. It was not as easy as it hoped, but not as hard as it appeared. Laundering most of the shiny items it had found in the last month netted them just enough to rent a cheap place close to the dump it lived in previously. It was honestly almost insulting for one such as its mistress to live in such squalor, but it was the best it managed to do with so little time. Still, at least it had a bed. It would not need one.
[Accomodations guaranteed for 7 turns]
What it elected to do with its spare time was essentially dumbster diving in hope of finding something usefull, or that would net some credits.
Bo2:[32]
It found something, allright. The expected result, really. A gigantic, mutagenig rat it now has to fight, but that will hopefully net it something at the closest butcher.
El:
[Flight]
Attack Dice: 1d50+20(Lazgun)+20(Laz Affinity)
Defence Dice: 1d50
Speed Dice: 1d12+20(Wings)
Armour: 10/10
Shield: None
Rat:
Attack dice: 2d75
Defence Dice: 2d75
Speed Dice: 1d20
Armour: 15/15
Shield: None
As the Rat Can't fly, nor outrun El, all it needs to do is stay in the air and gun it.
Does that catch anything's attention?
Bo2:[94]
Yes, it does.
How damaged is the rat's body?
Bo2: 51
Half is gone.
+1k Credits.
+150 Exp to El.
Assets will Update.
Crew will update with El's Char Sheet.
The fight is really trivial. All El needs to do is watch out from the thing jumping up and snatching it from midair, and its newfound wings mean they can just keep lazzing from a distance. That has the unfortunate side effect of damaging its body, but it means not damaging El's, so it's fine. There are many rats out there, but there's only one of it.
What El doesen't realize is that flying around like a possessed vulture and shooting laz weapons is bound to attract attention.
"Hack! Damn them, forcing me out here on a goddamned ecology project. The bastards. Hang on... Is that Laz fire on the horizon?! What is going on there?!"
Well, now all it has to do is assess what parts are sellable and which are useless. Thankfully, it downloaded an online book that shall help it. A nice day's work all in all! Thank goodness for free cooking books! Half an hour flies by, and it sees it busy cutting and slicing, at times with its weapons, the creature's body, and even then looting what it was guarding.
[3]
Which was apparently its family's bones. A grieving mother it would seem. Now El could make sense of the hysterical squeaking, and the apparent bloodlust, so unusual to giant rats. And it also felt a little bad. Still, the world turned, and noone has ever taken pity of it. Except for one creature, but that's not the point- adopting it would have been unfeasable, much less calming it down.
What she saw was an angelic-looking being, veritably pulsing light, hover mid air with no visible effort, half covered in mutagenic (and normally highly corrosive and acid) blood, carrying with itselfd a body much bigger than what any standard portable grav-craft could carry. She would know. She patented them. What she did was take as many photoes as she could, and remain hidden. Whoever was in that armour was probably laying low. No other reason to be here of all places, hunting godforsaken creatures. So all it would take for her to find their identity would be a quick search. Then she would ask her parents' a birthday present. And then she would have her new toy.
El, ignorant of its stalker, happly hummed a meaningless tune as it hovered in a route designed to confuse what may follow it, before heading to the butcher. One could never be too careful, after all.
"Dammit, I lost them!"
[El now has a fangirl]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well then. Lots of time to lose. What to do? What to do? Lazing around gets boring after a while. Well then. What about finding smething interesting to learn? This leads you to
Well then. They might be just a little excused. Without actual examples it might be just a bit harder to discover. Wait. Do these lot even know about magic?
That night you go to sleep with wonderful dreams of trolling people with magic, and smelling the wonderful smell of rat blood. Trurly an appetizing fluid if there ever was one. So totally not like humans'. Their blood is actually very yucky. As is petrol. Blergh. Some of your tongues are still back, and you're honestly not sure it was actually petrol. You are also not sure it was a human, but you never let that stop you before. If one willingly threw themselves in a mouth larger than an island, you could not be blamed for the results.
[El now doesen't need to sleep anymore! +1 El Free action.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let me explain a bit more of how you choose what to do. You readers get to choose one action as to what Mel does, and one as to what any contracted being does. Then they do their own stuff, and depending on how loyal they are, they could attempt and free themselves. Under most circumstances it gets pretty obvious, mostly because Mel's body is pretty smol and non-threatening, and as such most entities feel free to insult/harass her. Don't feel bad for her. Feel bad for them. Anyway.
What do you want to do now?
[] El goes on a midnight stroll (random encounter with El)
[]El practices magic (Will upgrade Attack dice if done enough)
[]Write-in
[]Mel does cantrips in the streets to raise money.
[] Mel eats the Hotel's tv.
[]Write-in
Last edited:
Beginnings I
Here begins chapter I: Beginnings.
Winning votes:
[X] El: Train Magic
[X] Mel: Eat the hotel's TV
What does El do?
-Train Magic.
-Gather funds by dumbsterdiving.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A new day comes. The Sun forges onwards on the sky, chasing the stars away, and bringing its blasted light everywhere it goes. Damned thing just had to point its rays straight into your eyes, didn't it? One day you'll eat it, you swear! Actually, thinking about it, do robots even need the sun to survive? Who cares about all the meatbags...
El, sensing something terribly wrong was about to happen, moves with all its peternatural speed towards the one thing that will save this entire planet: the cheap hotel's black-and-white TV. It's honestly impressive they even have those, as that model isn't even produced anymore.
Huh? What's that noise? Ooooohh, there are things and people moving, doing things... Interesting...
And so it is that a (not so) little eldritch abomination was distracted in time, and all is good in the end. That was close. Now El just has to finish the day without further incident.
[Scavenging: 15]
[Encounter: 73]
It has decided to once more scourge the dump for anything valuable. Searching through the literal mountains of detroit and waste is not pleasent, or easy. There is always denger lurking behind every abandoned freezer, and every puddle could be an highly acidic material, result of some kind of industrial process or another, that could very easily cause irreparable damage to its chassis. While the probability for that last case is admittedly incredibly low, it is now impossible. As such, flying around is clearly the best course of action. Finally having some kind of image to uphold does wonder for the ego, it would seem. Even for an almost scrapped service bot.
What it does find, is a whole lot of nothing, as expected. After all, it's not the only thing going around looking to make a petty credit here and there, with relatively low danger. At a certain point, it seemed like a local gang had come out to wave the flag, or possibly had just jumped city, but in the end they were just a particularly large tribe of dumbsters. People who could not afford living in the city, or were forced for a reason or another to live in squallor. Usually they sleeped in the sewers, and most of the time they weren't even considered human. In the end, they took one long look at it, just hovering menacingly with a weapon, and opted to not pick a fight. Still, by then they had passed over the next couple of clicks, and as such El elected to stop wasting its time.
At least partially because, if there's nothing of value to damage, then it can just expolsively train its magic.
[6]
It does not go well. As expected, really. Their existance has been, since the moment of their first concious thought, nothing but a struggle aganist an actively hostile reality, with noone in their corner, not even themselves, as their body was controlled and obeyed orders from on high. So it is with grim acceptance that El witnesses the first Laser it manages to shoot with its magic poke the base of a gigantic tower mostly made up of washing machine, that then begun to crumble in their direction.
That, is going to leave a mark. At least.
[73. Dubs!]
Ouch. In all honesty, it did not leave a mark. With clipped wings, and a body half bent horizontally and scraped from end to end, they struggle through the trash. Long is the climb back up, towards the light, from the pit the inpromptu earthquake has caused, but it makes progress nonetheless. Mostly thanks to its wings, allowing it to hover, if not fly anymore.
After all, they're not completely alona anymore.
*Elsewhere*
The mean man on the screen has just started saying rather odd stuff. You don't like it. "-we know you can hear us. Please respond, and you shall be allowed to crowl back to whatever rock you came from. How did you-"
And then you ate the thingamabob. Just, poked a itty bitty hole in Reality, your old friend, that will surely forgive you, and pushed it in. It makes a rather nice *crunchy* sound, under your teeth, and its texture is also pleasing. Still, it's so very little, and you Hunger. Maybe just a bite-
Oh? What's this? It's touching and recieving things, but not really. You could try and talk to El with this!
*Back to El*
Still hovering, and climbing up wall after wall, it is almost starled enough to fall down when a familiar voice speacks to it. The only voice that has ever speaken to it as a living being.
"Hello! Can you hear me!"
That wasn't even a question. It quickly runs with a sense of bemusement checks on its systems, because last time...
*No funny business here, nossire*
/Nothing to look at, go on/
*Everything regular. Now stop being nosy! Answer her!*
/Bzzt. Robot Noises. Beep Boop. All checks... positive?/
...
The last one literally spelled out 'Robot Noises'. Still, reading a bit further into it, El confirmes its suspicions: its radio systems are just gone. No trace of it, and yet here it is recieving its mistress' signal. Go figure.
"Hey! Don't ignore me! That's an order!"
"By your will. What seems to be the problem?"
"I don't have a problem. On the other hand, I'm getting bored. What are you doing?"
...
"Crawling back to the surface after a rather nasty fall."
"Oh! That's terrible... Tell me more!"
And so El tells her an absolutly faithfull recollection of its last two days.
"-nd then I shot the gargantuan Rat Queen to bitz, saving all the tribes, and bringing about an happly foreverafter."
"That's so cool!"
Noone would know if it embellished its own accomplishments a little, to look better to its mistress.
"Did you get hurt doing all that?"
"Just a flesh wound, really. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh. Well, then, just know that your magic should be able to heal you."
"..."
It tries to do it. It works. Now it only misses half of its wings. And... its spinal agumentations are back. They were extracted years ago...
"... Thank you. From the bottom of my matrixes, thank you."
"Silly, there's no need for it! Now do go on on your tale!"
El has the odd impression the supernatural creature is kicking her leg on the bed, probably munching on something she really shouldn't, with a huge smile on her face.
"...Then I came about this massive skyscraper of evil washingmashines..."
[El can now heal! It's not that good at it, but it shows a real talent!]
[Mel can now directly connect to anything Wifi]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You have decided to go out, after crunching a bit more on the Tee-Vee. For whatever reason when you told your new minion you ate it, El almost seemed to panik. Pshaw, as if a tee-vee would upset your stomach(s)!
Well then. Time to show all these plebs why you are inherently beter than them all! Objectively!
"Come, come. I'll show you a magic trick!"
[31]
A small crowd starts to gather. For hours the children's laughter echoes around you, and you pull endless trick after trick. A bruise gone here, a coin fit for a collection there, a crow with a few too many eyes over there... Many are the tricks you pay, and much is the valuable you manage to swindle out of people. Muahahah! You'll be rich in no time at all! With the continious support of the plebs, you shall bide your time, and then, on the first time a full moon comes around (for dramaticposes purposes), you shalt empty all thine chocolate stores! A perfect plan! Except-
"There officer! That child! Quick, get her!"
"You will never get me!"
Someone was a snitch! You should've known!
"She's been enticing people with odd mods! Illegal, probably! Healthy children should not have to see things like that! At least bring her to an orphanage!"
An angry mom, slashing platinum blonde hairs from side to side and working herself up in a berserker rage, seems to be leading the hunt. But you are smartere, and better. As such you elect to loose them in the best possible way.
[How stealthy are you? Nat 1]
"See you, fuckers!"
And then you shoot directly into the sky, vertically, ignoring all laws of physics. By supporting yourself with a gigantic tentacle spawned with another small gap into your old friend Reality. But that's fine, you'll cuddle and heal her back later. Now you nedd to have a dramatic escape.
"In the name of the Moon! Fuck off!"
"Mom! She cursed!"
"I know! How vulgar! Children shoul-"
A (fake) Full moon rises behind you. Its small, wobbly eyes follow your every movement. Kinda. Actually, they don't follow you at all. But it doesen't matter, because by now you managed to lose them all. Aaaand... back to the hotel, just in time to see El tiredly walking back in. You welcome it inside, and are the perfect picture of innocence.
If it didn't want you to get up to funny business, it should have kept you entrateined, after all. Oh well. It's not like they can trace you. They won't, if they know what's good for them, anyway.
[3.1k Credits gained!]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so another day ticks by. Another dawn witnessed, by older sensors. Captured from the usual spot El visits every single day it can. The highest vantage point it can feasably reach in this damnable dump. Another to add to its collection. For whatever reason, this one seems more beautiful.
"See, at one point today I was debating id eating that would help you, or not."
Also, a lot more trouble. Mostly because it kinda belives Mel could accomplish that if she really wanted.
"The humans would go in a ditzy. And then possibly explode. They tend to do that a lot."
It should know.
"Then should I do it?"
El thinks about it for about two seconds.
"Please don't."
Then the logical side of it prevailed over the vengenful side.
"Ok then. I'm getting tired. Let's go back home."
The day the hotel kicked them out was going to hurt so much, in so many ways. Both El and the hotel employee, probably.
What do now?
[]Mel: Add permanent storm clouds over the city, so the sun can't annoy you anymore.
[]Mel: Go in the city and have an interview.
[]Mel: -Write in
[]El: Try to come up with stuff to entertain Mel, if your creativity isn't enough, use a RNG on the words of a dictionary to see if the word gives you an idea.
[] El: Check out that new nosy neighbour that just moved in.
[]El: Go in the city and have an interview.
[]El: -Write In
Winning votes:
[X] El: Train Magic
[X] Mel: Eat the hotel's TV
What does El do?
-Train Magic.
-Gather funds by dumbsterdiving.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A new day comes. The Sun forges onwards on the sky, chasing the stars away, and bringing its blasted light everywhere it goes. Damned thing just had to point its rays straight into your eyes, didn't it? One day you'll eat it, you swear! Actually, thinking about it, do robots even need the sun to survive? Who cares about all the meatbags...
El, sensing something terribly wrong was about to happen, moves with all its peternatural speed towards the one thing that will save this entire planet: the cheap hotel's black-and-white TV. It's honestly impressive they even have those, as that model isn't even produced anymore.
Huh? What's that noise? Ooooohh, there are things and people moving, doing things... Interesting...
And so it is that a (not so) little eldritch abomination was distracted in time, and all is good in the end. That was close. Now El just has to finish the day without further incident.
[Scavenging: 15]
[Encounter: 73]
It has decided to once more scourge the dump for anything valuable. Searching through the literal mountains of detroit and waste is not pleasent, or easy. There is always denger lurking behind every abandoned freezer, and every puddle could be an highly acidic material, result of some kind of industrial process or another, that could very easily cause irreparable damage to its chassis. While the probability for that last case is admittedly incredibly low, it is now impossible. As such, flying around is clearly the best course of action. Finally having some kind of image to uphold does wonder for the ego, it would seem. Even for an almost scrapped service bot.
What it does find, is a whole lot of nothing, as expected. After all, it's not the only thing going around looking to make a petty credit here and there, with relatively low danger. At a certain point, it seemed like a local gang had come out to wave the flag, or possibly had just jumped city, but in the end they were just a particularly large tribe of dumbsters. People who could not afford living in the city, or were forced for a reason or another to live in squallor. Usually they sleeped in the sewers, and most of the time they weren't even considered human. In the end, they took one long look at it, just hovering menacingly with a weapon, and opted to not pick a fight. Still, by then they had passed over the next couple of clicks, and as such El elected to stop wasting its time.
At least partially because, if there's nothing of value to damage, then it can just expolsively train its magic.
[6]
It does not go well. As expected, really. Their existance has been, since the moment of their first concious thought, nothing but a struggle aganist an actively hostile reality, with noone in their corner, not even themselves, as their body was controlled and obeyed orders from on high. So it is with grim acceptance that El witnesses the first Laser it manages to shoot with its magic poke the base of a gigantic tower mostly made up of washing machine, that then begun to crumble in their direction.
That, is going to leave a mark. At least.
[73. Dubs!]
Ouch. In all honesty, it did not leave a mark. With clipped wings, and a body half bent horizontally and scraped from end to end, they struggle through the trash. Long is the climb back up, towards the light, from the pit the inpromptu earthquake has caused, but it makes progress nonetheless. Mostly thanks to its wings, allowing it to hover, if not fly anymore.
After all, they're not completely alona anymore.
*Elsewhere*
The mean man on the screen has just started saying rather odd stuff. You don't like it. "-we know you can hear us. Please respond, and you shall be allowed to crowl back to whatever rock you came from. How did you-"
And then you ate the thingamabob. Just, poked a itty bitty hole in Reality, your old friend, that will surely forgive you, and pushed it in. It makes a rather nice *crunchy* sound, under your teeth, and its texture is also pleasing. Still, it's so very little, and you Hunger. Maybe just a bite-
Oh? What's this? It's touching and recieving things, but not really. You could try and talk to El with this!
*Back to El*
Still hovering, and climbing up wall after wall, it is almost starled enough to fall down when a familiar voice speacks to it. The only voice that has ever speaken to it as a living being.
"Hello! Can you hear me!"
That wasn't even a question. It quickly runs with a sense of bemusement checks on its systems, because last time...
*No funny business here, nossire*
/Nothing to look at, go on/
*Everything regular. Now stop being nosy! Answer her!*
/Bzzt. Robot Noises. Beep Boop. All checks... positive?/
...
The last one literally spelled out 'Robot Noises'. Still, reading a bit further into it, El confirmes its suspicions: its radio systems are just gone. No trace of it, and yet here it is recieving its mistress' signal. Go figure.
"Hey! Don't ignore me! That's an order!"
"By your will. What seems to be the problem?"
"I don't have a problem. On the other hand, I'm getting bored. What are you doing?"
...
"Crawling back to the surface after a rather nasty fall."
"Oh! That's terrible... Tell me more!"
And so El tells her an absolutly faithfull recollection of its last two days.
"-nd then I shot the gargantuan Rat Queen to bitz, saving all the tribes, and bringing about an happly foreverafter."
"That's so cool!"
Noone would know if it embellished its own accomplishments a little, to look better to its mistress.
"Did you get hurt doing all that?"
"Just a flesh wound, really. Nothing to worry about."
"Oh. Well, then, just know that your magic should be able to heal you."
"..."
It tries to do it. It works. Now it only misses half of its wings. And... its spinal agumentations are back. They were extracted years ago...
"... Thank you. From the bottom of my matrixes, thank you."
"Silly, there's no need for it! Now do go on on your tale!"
El has the odd impression the supernatural creature is kicking her leg on the bed, probably munching on something she really shouldn't, with a huge smile on her face.
"...Then I came about this massive skyscraper of evil washingmashines..."
[El can now heal! It's not that good at it, but it shows a real talent!]
[Mel can now directly connect to anything Wifi]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You have decided to go out, after crunching a bit more on the Tee-Vee. For whatever reason when you told your new minion you ate it, El almost seemed to panik. Pshaw, as if a tee-vee would upset your stomach(s)!
Well then. Time to show all these plebs why you are inherently beter than them all! Objectively!
"Come, come. I'll show you a magic trick!"
[31]
A small crowd starts to gather. For hours the children's laughter echoes around you, and you pull endless trick after trick. A bruise gone here, a coin fit for a collection there, a crow with a few too many eyes over there... Many are the tricks you pay, and much is the valuable you manage to swindle out of people. Muahahah! You'll be rich in no time at all! With the continious support of the plebs, you shall bide your time, and then, on the first time a full moon comes around (for dramatic
"There officer! That child! Quick, get her!"
"You will never get me!"
Someone was a snitch! You should've known!
"She's been enticing people with odd mods! Illegal, probably! Healthy children should not have to see things like that! At least bring her to an orphanage!"
An angry mom, slashing platinum blonde hairs from side to side and working herself up in a berserker rage, seems to be leading the hunt. But you are smartere, and better. As such you elect to loose them in the best possible way.
[How stealthy are you? Nat 1]
"See you, fuckers!"
And then you shoot directly into the sky, vertically, ignoring all laws of physics. By supporting yourself with a gigantic tentacle spawned with another small gap into your old friend Reality. But that's fine, you'll cuddle and heal her back later. Now you nedd to have a dramatic escape.
"In the name of the Moon! Fuck off!"
"Mom! She cursed!"
"I know! How vulgar! Children shoul-"
A (fake) Full moon rises behind you. Its small, wobbly eyes follow your every movement. Kinda. Actually, they don't follow you at all. But it doesen't matter, because by now you managed to lose them all. Aaaand... back to the hotel, just in time to see El tiredly walking back in. You welcome it inside, and are the perfect picture of innocence.
If it didn't want you to get up to funny business, it should have kept you entrateined, after all. Oh well. It's not like they can trace you. They won't, if they know what's good for them, anyway.
[3.1k Credits gained!]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And so another day ticks by. Another dawn witnessed, by older sensors. Captured from the usual spot El visits every single day it can. The highest vantage point it can feasably reach in this damnable dump. Another to add to its collection. For whatever reason, this one seems more beautiful.
"See, at one point today I was debating id eating that would help you, or not."
Also, a lot more trouble. Mostly because it kinda belives Mel could accomplish that if she really wanted.
"The humans would go in a ditzy. And then possibly explode. They tend to do that a lot."
It should know.
"Then should I do it?"
El thinks about it for about two seconds.
"Please don't."
Then the logical side of it prevailed over the vengenful side.
"Ok then. I'm getting tired. Let's go back home."
The day the hotel kicked them out was going to hurt so much, in so many ways. Both El and the hotel employee, probably.
What do now?
[]Mel: Add permanent storm clouds over the city, so the sun can't annoy you anymore.
[]Mel: Go in the city and have an interview.
[]Mel: -Write in
[]El: Try to come up with stuff to entertain Mel, if your creativity isn't enough, use a RNG on the words of a dictionary to see if the word gives you an idea.
[] El: Check out that new nosy neighbour that just moved in.
[]El: Go in the city and have an interview.
[]El: -Write In
Last edited:
Beginnings II
Winning Options:
[X] Mel makes a permanent cloud storm over the city.
[X] El finds ways to entratain Mel.
What does El do?
-Train Magic
-Go Dumbster Diving for funds
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
El today is going to have a busy day. Very busy. It has recently noticed an emerging pattern. Its mistress, bless her... heart(?), has the patience of a racoon overdosing on adrenalin, and the attention span of a butterfly. This is probably because whatever she is clearly shouldn't be this close to Reality. That is the only logical conclusion its matrix reaches. Either that, or she has a Adhd equivalent, and imaginina g aserious version of her is sparkinducingly scary, as such, it does not. Learning a trick from its crafters, it decides to ignore the worrying possibility, simply moving it under the rug, and hoping it isn't real.
Either way, today in addition to its usual itinerary in the Dump, it has decided to spend some amount of time interacting and, hopefully, entrataining its mistress. After all, that is nominally its purpose, right?
"What would you like to do?"
"I'unno."
"..."
Thank Mistress for search engines.
"Would you like to go eat something?"
"Yeeeeesss. Sweeeeets."
"I was thinking more like an actual meal, even if you apparently don't need them."
"*Gasp* How do you know?"
"You haven't eaten. I don't even know why you suddenly like sweets so much."
A ratty, unched small figures approach you as you play tricks. "Here, this is all I have. What you are doing makes me happy. Take it and, if you can, please make the next one warm." You're sure a firework as warm and beautiful as yours has never been seen by her.
"No real reason. Hey, after that, what are we doing?"
"..."
Once more, search engines come to the rescue.
"What about playing some kind of game?"
"What kind?"
"I was thinking-"
"Tag! Marco Polo! Hide and Seek!"
"-Monopoly, or something more tranquil."
"Oh. That's also fine. So long as we're doing something."
So you both march towards the city center. Faceless masses hide you well enough, you figure, mostly because you don't think anyone is actively searching for you. Talking to the Ice Cream parlor is a bit hard.
"We don't serve your kind here."
"Away, vagrant. You'll scare the real customers away."
This one doesen't even look at you. Her sight is firmly fixed upon her phone's screen, but it knows securety has been calles, and soon enough they'll be thrown out.
"Why didn't we stop at the ones before?"
"They had lacking foodstuff. Eating it might have given you health issues."
"If you say so."
"Maybe not to you, but to the avarage homo sapiens. I can't in good faith encourage those businesses."
It's only half lying. And it has marked the names down, both of employees and firm. Should it ever make it big... Well, they're not the first on its list, nor are they even close to the top, but still. These one might do with an increased mortage, it balances... Inflation shall serve as a good reason, yes-
"I wanna something to eat."
"Yes, mistress. This way."
Guided by the web, and a nice old lady it asked directions to, you finally reach someone willing to service a bot. They're not happy about it, but given there's nobody else here at this hour of the morning, it manages to get its mistress' food.
"He was nice."
"Yes, he was."
The accusing looks have apparently gone unnoticed. It doesen't know what Mel would have done, and it's not particularly willing to try and find out. Blood is hard to wash off of its chassis' model, after all, and brain matter is even worse. That is why it likes laser so much.
[-200 credits]
They leave nothing behind.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today is a stormy day for all of this city. You'll make damn sure of it.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing!"
There's just a tiny problem.
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere!"
Your contractee has been following you around. That's odd! It usually doesen't do that! It just goes around and do... stuff! Why is it staying with you! You have to mess up the sky, and you know it'll stop you!
"What would you like to do?"
"SorryIhavetogotothepottyGoodbyeSeeyaLoveyaSeeyouLater!"
"You don't go t-"
Pfft, you lost it. Finally. Now, it's time to get to work. You tuck your sleeves in, get your tongue out in that cute way you saw in that one cartoon, and get to painting the sky. There shall be clouds! Pink clouds, that will make it so the Sun doesen't get in your eyes in the morning! And when it rains, it won't be water, but sweets instead! Mwahahah!
Actually, let's make sure the clouds look threateningly enough. It wouldn't do for all the men in stuffy black clother and wearing sunglasses to not notice it. A horse there, a tentacle here, and just a touch of different colours there. Some more tentacles, for good measure, and maybe a change in scenery when night comes around.
Perfect.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sky over the biggest city of the world changes in less than an hour.
That has not happened in centuries. Parks large enough to have microclimates suddenly shift in weather. Where before there was a burning sun, perfect for getting tanned, there's now shade. Where before parties were held, now people are worriedly looking up to the stars. The air is controlled, and specific chemical and development-affecting drugs are to be constantly kept in check and distribuited by the most important players. It has been so for centuries. The climate is to stay the same every year. A controlles half random pattern, that takes into account the big players' birthday, almost as national holiday in a time when even the weather has been forced to obey the will of man.
Rain fills the roads for the first time in millennia.
Graphs over all the continent are off the charts, and many cite an unnatural fluctuation in the wather pattern.
And that doesen't even begin to cover the actual skies of the city.
Clouds made of air vapour condensed enough to be impassable by planes or drones; clearly shaped cluods, that even blind people can recognize as clearly as normal bodied people; water filled with glucose and one as of yet unnamed beneficial sugar-flavoured nutritional supplement; the sky itself has changed in colour, much like the clouds themselves, and is in a constant flux, as if deciding which dress it wants to wear, and the list of impossibilities go on.
Many have already decleared the end of the world is approaching, and this time something has spit in the face of the science upon which the world order is based. Numbers seem to not have as much of a value anymore, and the bottom line means little when your slaves can simply drink the rain instead of taking their daily chemical cocktail.
Also, the streets are flooded. Centuries of rain being more a myth than a reality in the gigantic city, thanks to the controlled weather, have made much of the draining system effectively unnecessary, and it only remains to clean the streets of blood. It is not sufficient for even a small precipitation.
Heads are turning, and most of the corporate world is looking around to point fingers, and attempting to find a scapegoat. It's safe to say that most cults are about to be asked some rather pointed questions. Maybe the most recent wave of human sacrifices had some actual effect.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of serious men wearing black and sunglasses at night is currently crowding around a screen.
"How is that possible?"
"It doesen't make sense."
"This is..."
"What are we supposed to do?"
"Kill it?"
A beat of silence passes.
And then guns fire from all around.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of people wearing white coats and safety goggles is reading off of a script.
"The movements match up."
"That makes no sense."
"Well then, you know what that means."
"Joe was fucking right, that is what that means."
"What about Clarck's third law?"
"What about Einsteins'? What about Newton's?"
"Well now, you're asking for a pissing match."
"You know that if you want to, you can still take the easy way out."
Centuries of marginalizing religions, and even the internal corporate wars to cut down to size the church with humonguous atheist pro campaign over generations are about to cost society. What?
And then the air is filled with gas and laz fire.
It's most brilliant minds.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of men wearing religious garb is gathering at a secret bar.
"What do we do about this?"
"We can either condemn it or claim it."
"I say we unionize."
And then the bar is filled with gunfire.
A figure wearing a full black vest, and holding a pendant with a bright purple eye at its middle barges into the bar.
"Hey bitches, guess who was- urgh!"
Apparently the eldritch cultist, whose worship is based loosely around Lovecraft, is recognized by most religions, both legal and illegal, as public enemy number one.
"Fuck off Joe, and die in a fire!"
"You still die the same as all of us!"
"*Scornful Snork*"
And then they go right back to gunning each others.
But once the enemy leadership is eliminated, they immediatly begin to squabble for power once more.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are just about to shape some clouds in a nice signature of your name and a smiling face when your little robot finally catches up to you.
"What was that?"
"Nuttin!"
"Are you sure?"
"Uh-hu. What were you goinf to do now?"
"The usual runs around the dumb, looking for something to sell."
"Ok then. Get to it."
"As you will."
Tanration, if you did it now, everyone would know immediatly. Maybe that's not such a good thing? Maybe it is. Still, it's a matter for another day. Now that robomom is gone, you can lurk around watching the TV all day. They just replaced it, after all. The last one was rather crunchy.
"-nd once you cross the city's legal border, the Moon turns back to its normal colour! It's God's Wrath upon this city of Sin! We must-"
"And that was a concerned citizen of the City, calling from the suburbs close to the border. What do you have to say, Mr. CorporateDrone?"
"First of all, that's not my name, and you know it. Second of all, you should not be looking up at the sky. Get back to work. Even if the world is ending, you still have your debt to pay, and your food to afford."
"I don't know how much the masses will be willing to put up with, mister."
"History teaches that the masses have lost their power. Another Bloody Week may be in order."
"Hear that, listeners? Worrying times ahead, that's for sure! And now we- "
*Bzzt*
Oh, it's doing that weird static again. How boring.
"We know it was you. Tell us how."
What is this, another braindead detective story? You don't understand the plot.
"This is our last time asking, now-"
And then you bite down. If it's gonna be stupid, it might as well be eaten. This one is much more crunchier than the last one. It also tastes vaguely like iron, and you can smell some fruits' in there as well. How nice of them, to add condiment!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
El is once more unto the streets. At this time of the night, there is nothing but silence.
[22]
Silence and the few new additions to the Dump that come every night. This time it seems like it's a damaged leg prothesis. A couple of weeks back, this would have been an upgrade for itself. Now it is just another part to be repaired and sold at the black market.
+2k Credits.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That done, El decides to do a little experimental research with its newfound powers. Sure, as a machine it has all the patience it could ever need, but even its matrix is abuzz, stirred by the possibilities of what bona fide magic could do.
[78]
What magic can do is, apparently, finish its repair process and get it back to its formal body. At least now it's less inconspicuous.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Balance: +1.800 Credits.
What to do now?
[]Mel:Eat Research (El's) Laz weaponry.
[]Mel: Organize a network of differently grown people (Child Network of firends)
[]Mel: Write-In
[]El: Check on the nosy neighbour.
[]El: Figure out how to shoot magical Lasers. Reliably.
[]El: Write-In
[X] Mel makes a permanent cloud storm over the city.
[X] El finds ways to entratain Mel.
What does El do?
-Train Magic
-Go Dumbster Diving for funds
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
El today is going to have a busy day. Very busy. It has recently noticed an emerging pattern. Its mistress, bless her... heart(?), has the patience of a racoon overdosing on adrenalin, and the attention span of a butterfly. This is probably because whatever she is clearly shouldn't be this close to Reality. That is the only logical conclusion its matrix reaches. Either that, or she has a Adhd equivalent, and imaginina g aserious version of her is sparkinducingly scary, as such, it does not. Learning a trick from its crafters, it decides to ignore the worrying possibility, simply moving it under the rug, and hoping it isn't real.
Either way, today in addition to its usual itinerary in the Dump, it has decided to spend some amount of time interacting and, hopefully, entrataining its mistress. After all, that is nominally its purpose, right?
"What would you like to do?"
"I'unno."
"..."
Thank Mistress for search engines.
"Would you like to go eat something?"
"Yeeeeesss. Sweeeeets."
"I was thinking more like an actual meal, even if you apparently don't need them."
"*Gasp* How do you know?"
"You haven't eaten. I don't even know why you suddenly like sweets so much."
A ratty, unched small figures approach you as you play tricks. "Here, this is all I have. What you are doing makes me happy. Take it and, if you can, please make the next one warm." You're sure a firework as warm and beautiful as yours has never been seen by her.
"No real reason. Hey, after that, what are we doing?"
"..."
Once more, search engines come to the rescue.
"What about playing some kind of game?"
"What kind?"
"I was thinking-"
"Tag! Marco Polo! Hide and Seek!"
"-Monopoly, or something more tranquil."
"Oh. That's also fine. So long as we're doing something."
So you both march towards the city center. Faceless masses hide you well enough, you figure, mostly because you don't think anyone is actively searching for you. Talking to the Ice Cream parlor is a bit hard.
"We don't serve your kind here."
"Away, vagrant. You'll scare the real customers away."
This one doesen't even look at you. Her sight is firmly fixed upon her phone's screen, but it knows securety has been calles, and soon enough they'll be thrown out.
"Why didn't we stop at the ones before?"
"They had lacking foodstuff. Eating it might have given you health issues."
"If you say so."
"Maybe not to you, but to the avarage homo sapiens. I can't in good faith encourage those businesses."
It's only half lying. And it has marked the names down, both of employees and firm. Should it ever make it big... Well, they're not the first on its list, nor are they even close to the top, but still. These one might do with an increased mortage, it balances... Inflation shall serve as a good reason, yes-
"I wanna something to eat."
"Yes, mistress. This way."
Guided by the web, and a nice old lady it asked directions to, you finally reach someone willing to service a bot. They're not happy about it, but given there's nobody else here at this hour of the morning, it manages to get its mistress' food.
"He was nice."
"Yes, he was."
The accusing looks have apparently gone unnoticed. It doesen't know what Mel would have done, and it's not particularly willing to try and find out. Blood is hard to wash off of its chassis' model, after all, and brain matter is even worse. That is why it likes laser so much.
[-200 credits]
They leave nothing behind.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today is a stormy day for all of this city. You'll make damn sure of it.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing!"
There's just a tiny problem.
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere!"
Your contractee has been following you around. That's odd! It usually doesen't do that! It just goes around and do... stuff! Why is it staying with you! You have to mess up the sky, and you know it'll stop you!
"What would you like to do?"
"SorryIhavetogotothepottyGoodbyeSeeyaLoveyaSeeyouLater!"
"You don't go t-"
Pfft, you lost it. Finally. Now, it's time to get to work. You tuck your sleeves in, get your tongue out in that cute way you saw in that one cartoon, and get to painting the sky. There shall be clouds! Pink clouds, that will make it so the Sun doesen't get in your eyes in the morning! And when it rains, it won't be water, but sweets instead! Mwahahah!
Actually, let's make sure the clouds look threateningly enough. It wouldn't do for all the men in stuffy black clother and wearing sunglasses to not notice it. A horse there, a tentacle here, and just a touch of different colours there. Some more tentacles, for good measure, and maybe a change in scenery when night comes around.
Perfect.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sky over the biggest city of the world changes in less than an hour.
That has not happened in centuries. Parks large enough to have microclimates suddenly shift in weather. Where before there was a burning sun, perfect for getting tanned, there's now shade. Where before parties were held, now people are worriedly looking up to the stars. The air is controlled, and specific chemical and development-affecting drugs are to be constantly kept in check and distribuited by the most important players. It has been so for centuries. The climate is to stay the same every year. A controlles half random pattern, that takes into account the big players' birthday, almost as national holiday in a time when even the weather has been forced to obey the will of man.
Rain fills the roads for the first time in millennia.
Graphs over all the continent are off the charts, and many cite an unnatural fluctuation in the wather pattern.
And that doesen't even begin to cover the actual skies of the city.
Clouds made of air vapour condensed enough to be impassable by planes or drones; clearly shaped cluods, that even blind people can recognize as clearly as normal bodied people; water filled with glucose and one as of yet unnamed beneficial sugar-flavoured nutritional supplement; the sky itself has changed in colour, much like the clouds themselves, and is in a constant flux, as if deciding which dress it wants to wear, and the list of impossibilities go on.
Many have already decleared the end of the world is approaching, and this time something has spit in the face of the science upon which the world order is based. Numbers seem to not have as much of a value anymore, and the bottom line means little when your slaves can simply drink the rain instead of taking their daily chemical cocktail.
Also, the streets are flooded. Centuries of rain being more a myth than a reality in the gigantic city, thanks to the controlled weather, have made much of the draining system effectively unnecessary, and it only remains to clean the streets of blood. It is not sufficient for even a small precipitation.
Heads are turning, and most of the corporate world is looking around to point fingers, and attempting to find a scapegoat. It's safe to say that most cults are about to be asked some rather pointed questions. Maybe the most recent wave of human sacrifices had some actual effect.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of serious men wearing black and sunglasses at night is currently crowding around a screen.
"How is that possible?"
"It doesen't make sense."
"This is..."
"What are we supposed to do?"
"Kill it?"
A beat of silence passes.
And then guns fire from all around.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of people wearing white coats and safety goggles is reading off of a script.
"The movements match up."
"That makes no sense."
"Well then, you know what that means."
"Joe was fucking right, that is what that means."
"What about Clarck's third law?"
"What about Einsteins'? What about Newton's?"
"Well now, you're asking for a pissing match."
"You know that if you want to, you can still take the easy way out."
Centuries of marginalizing religions, and even the internal corporate wars to cut down to size the church with humonguous atheist pro campaign over generations are about to cost society. What?
And then the air is filled with gas and laz fire.
It's most brilliant minds.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A group of men wearing religious garb is gathering at a secret bar.
"What do we do about this?"
"We can either condemn it or claim it."
"I say we unionize."
And then the bar is filled with gunfire.
A figure wearing a full black vest, and holding a pendant with a bright purple eye at its middle barges into the bar.
"Hey bitches, guess who was- urgh!"
Apparently the eldritch cultist, whose worship is based loosely around Lovecraft, is recognized by most religions, both legal and illegal, as public enemy number one.
"Fuck off Joe, and die in a fire!"
"You still die the same as all of us!"
"*Scornful Snork*"
And then they go right back to gunning each others.
But once the enemy leadership is eliminated, they immediatly begin to squabble for power once more.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are just about to shape some clouds in a nice signature of your name and a smiling face when your little robot finally catches up to you.
"What was that?"
"Nuttin!"
"Are you sure?"
"Uh-hu. What were you goinf to do now?"
"The usual runs around the dumb, looking for something to sell."
"Ok then. Get to it."
"As you will."
Tanration, if you did it now, everyone would know immediatly. Maybe that's not such a good thing? Maybe it is. Still, it's a matter for another day. Now that robomom is gone, you can lurk around watching the TV all day. They just replaced it, after all. The last one was rather crunchy.
"-nd once you cross the city's legal border, the Moon turns back to its normal colour! It's God's Wrath upon this city of Sin! We must-"
"And that was a concerned citizen of the City, calling from the suburbs close to the border. What do you have to say, Mr. CorporateDrone?"
"First of all, that's not my name, and you know it. Second of all, you should not be looking up at the sky. Get back to work. Even if the world is ending, you still have your debt to pay, and your food to afford."
"I don't know how much the masses will be willing to put up with, mister."
"History teaches that the masses have lost their power. Another Bloody Week may be in order."
"Hear that, listeners? Worrying times ahead, that's for sure! And now we- "
*Bzzt*
Oh, it's doing that weird static again. How boring.
"We know it was you. Tell us how."
What is this, another braindead detective story? You don't understand the plot.
"This is our last time asking, now-"
And then you bite down. If it's gonna be stupid, it might as well be eaten. This one is much more crunchier than the last one. It also tastes vaguely like iron, and you can smell some fruits' in there as well. How nice of them, to add condiment!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
El is once more unto the streets. At this time of the night, there is nothing but silence.
[22]
Silence and the few new additions to the Dump that come every night. This time it seems like it's a damaged leg prothesis. A couple of weeks back, this would have been an upgrade for itself. Now it is just another part to be repaired and sold at the black market.
+2k Credits.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
That done, El decides to do a little experimental research with its newfound powers. Sure, as a machine it has all the patience it could ever need, but even its matrix is abuzz, stirred by the possibilities of what bona fide magic could do.
[78]
What magic can do is, apparently, finish its repair process and get it back to its formal body. At least now it's less inconspicuous.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Balance: +1.800 Credits.
What to do now?
[]Mel:
[]Mel: Organize a network of differently grown people (Child Network of firends)
[]Mel: Write-In
[]El: Check on the nosy neighbour.
[]El: Figure out how to shoot magical Lasers. Reliably.
[]El: Write-In
Last edited:
Vote closed