Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)
- Thread starter Prok
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- MN
I say just use fire
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
Well, sure, if you want to be all boring about it and make the whole area smell like rancid ass for the rest of time.
TimEd
Meteor maker
was this intentional? Because If not, then you think much too fast for your typing to keep up.
- Location
- United States
Living stuff usually doesn't burn that well, with all the water in it.
- Location
- MN
Napalm, white phosphorus, or hell just a shit ton of fire dust.
Just saying if we can't come up with something complicated or just run out of time/options going with a shit ton of fire could always be a good backup option
- Location
- United States
Good point. Maybe we should look into chemical weapons? Or maybe poisons. As far as I know, chemical weapons and poisons work by messing with how cells work or just killing them, so they might be useful. They're kind of messy, though, and it might be difficult giving Lee enough of a dose to kill all his important bits.
InterstellarHobo
Cosmic Vagrant
- Location
- No Fixed Planetary System
On a different note, think maybe it's time to take the poll down?
It's kind of getting in the way and I'm not sure it's relevant any more.
It's kind of getting in the way and I'm not sure it's relevant any more.
- Location
- United states
Personally kind of used to seeing it there since it's been there since the beginning of the quest and it's not really hurting anything to leave it there.
BadAtScreenNames
Killed a man in Reno just to watch him die
- Location
- the (currently) United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well, we've yet to have anything from Bastion or Pyre. I'd say it's a longshot. Although it'd be interesting to see Jaune's music collection given how hardcore Supergiant is about it's games' soundtracks being awesome.
- Location
- Box of Granola bars
Nah, it's intentional.
Actually, there was an interlude about a dude praying to his gods, and they're the ones from Bastion.
BadAtScreenNames
Killed a man in Reno just to watch him die
- Location
- the (currently) United Kingdom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
...I had completely missed that. Fair play!
- Location
- Box of Granola bars
KidFromPallet
Pokemon Fan
- Location
- Pallet Town
Oh yeah, I got an add on YouTube for that a while ago. Not quite sure how it'd be able to fit in, though that might just be because I haven't really looked at the game in much depth yet.
Weeklylife.bat, Final Cycle, Part 1
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
Happy new year!
|||
[x] Bedrock Assimilation
You consider the Process's question for a moment and its proposed options.
On one hand, personal assistants are an idea that's been bouncing about your head for some time now, partly thanks to Ada, but… something doesn't sit right with you about it.
{People don't treat their toys very well, Jaune. Look at all those tech destruction channels out there, or even just the idiots who yell at their voice-activated assistants because it messed something up, or just for fun. That's not even touching on the things that it'll learn from people.}
… Fair point. Maybe just keep that for people you trust. Like your teammates. And your family.
And maybe Rosalind.
Keeping that in mind though, you can't help but feel like a lot of these options might make people unhappy, to begin with…
So, go with the sneakiest option.
Assimilating the bedrock… what would that entail?
Process would find a key point of entry that would not be noticed- most likely on property owned by the sysadmin's family- and burrow through the local regolith until we reach bedrock. Once that occurs, we will begin assimilating all matter below the city. It will be done slowly at first, to ensure we are undetected by seismological equipment, alongside making sure we do not compromise structural integrity above. Any precious materials will be processed and stored.
{Hrm. It'd be pretty sneaky, but... probably illegal. It's not as if we own the land we're mining under.}
If it's that deep underground, nobody will know until we build up enough capital on the surface to get mining rights from the government.
True...
Would the tree stump out back work as a starting point?
Its roots would serve as decent starting points for tunnels through the regolith. Do you believe this to be the best option?
… You kind of do. Actually, yeah, that's a good idea. You look down at the expectant Cell, quite literally quivering with excitement, waiting for you to say something, anything.
"Go." You oblige it.
01 rushes off the moment you give your blessing, bonking into your door and slipping under it as a puff of Process particles. As soon as it's out of sight, your curiosity becomes overwhelming, and you just have to follow it out.
You see more than one Cell on your way out, and most of your family soon join you.
"Jaune? What's happening?" Jaana asks, following her Cell out from the living room.
"Uh… you know, I'll get back to you on that one."
The robots gently bump into each other, fusing and creating something larger, growing until the resulting creature is almost half a metre tall, clacking along the floor on spindly legs connected to a body shaped like a teardrop, the narrow end pointing out behind it like a metal ponytail.
You follow it through to the kitchen just in time to see it fumbling with the twist knob on the patio door. After a few moments, it stops and turns to you instead, gently whining at you like a dog.
Between the look your family gives you, and the supercell's whining, all you can really do is laugh.
Jaana, quick to learn, turns to your sword instead.
"What's happening right now?"
"{The Process reached a stable version. We came to a decision on what to do with it, and, well, the poor thing's excited. Would you mind open the door for it? We don't, exactly have a good track record with them.}"
"You don't say," Jools mutters as she walks forward and opens the door, the Creep-
Agh, stop doing that-
Ahem, the Creep, not what you would have chosen, but alright, scrabbles out the door and lopes into your back garden, leaving a trail of innovation behind it as its footsteps progress from pinholes in the dirt to several pinholes in the dirt, before eventually flattening out into claws then proper feet as it makes it ways to the tree stump at the back of the garden. You follow it out, as does everybody else because apparently they're invested at this point, just in time to watch your new robot do its thing.
The act of Processing is odd to watch, but it's even odder to feel- you watch as a thin spray of nanites hits the dead wood and spreads like a fungal growth, quickly covering the entire outer layer before it loses cohesion and melts into a puddle of undifferentiated catoms, quickly disappearing down the hole left behind.
Your new robot dog looks down the hole for a second, admiring its handiwork as far as you can tell before it too breaks down into a formless mass of metal goop and reforms into the eight Cells that made it up in the first place. 01 comes back to you, chirping away happily as it gives you live status updates on the Processed mass and its progress towards bedrock.
"... Well, if that's done, I'm going to bed." Jasper says after a moment of silence.
"Wh- that's it?! You're just going to watch that happen, and decide to go back to bed?!" Jools asks your other sister.
"Let me answer your question with a question; do you really want to know the specifics beyond 'dad's lost his summertime nemesis?'"
Jools puts a finger up, opening her mouth to say something. After a moment, the finger wilts, and her mouth closes.
"... Screw this, I'm getting another gin and tonic." She mutters after a moment, stalking back inside to presumably get drunk and try to forget all about that reminder of the controlled grey goo scenario living in her house.
… You know what, you're legal now, you might go and join her-
|||
[x] Personal Assistant AI Design
You sit on your bed, staring at the number in your bank account accusingly.
1400 Lien.
That's nothing. You had 20k less than 24 hours ago, for god's sake. You do some quick mental arithmetic and how did you blow through 84.91% of your savings in one hour?
{Hey, the deadline for that spreadsheet tutorial is today.}
Oh, yeah, you should probably give that to them.
... Ok, 3900 Lien, that's, more respectable. Still not enough, though, not for you. You get the sinking feeling that turning the Process into a legitimate business is going to cost you a lot of money at first, even if just to set up a company.
The point you are making, to nobody in particular, is that you need a job.
{Well, there's a freelance contract going, something about... pfft-}
What? What's so funny?
{It's a consulting contract for a startup company launching a voice-activated personal assistant.}
... Huh. Well, ain't that some shit. How much?
{5000 Lien. Not bad pay, all told.}
Hrm. Well, you can't say no to an easy 5k. Especially since 'consulting' usually translates to 'sit around and tell people what they're doing wrong,' and you can totally get behind that.
|||
"Everybody gets one eventually..." Bad Employer Roll, 1d20 = 11.
Damn near bust, that was. You get home, thank your father for standard iron-clad contracts, and marvel at the 5000 Lien in your bank account like one would marvel at blood drawn from a stone.
Never assume an easy job is going to stay easy, that's like, rule one of freelancing. Anyway, you get Blue to blacklist that particular company from your job results and move on with your evening.
|||
[x] Tactics
-[x]Teach the robit how into chess
Rolls: 7+10+1= 18.
Concordant Action: Swordsmanship. Roll: 20! New Roll Total: 38!
85+38 = 123/120. C+ => B- (3/300)
"Battle, on all levels, is simply the act of outthinking and outmanoeuvring your opponent."
It occurs to you that your strategic senses may not be... great, considering you did take a mostly reactive role during the test, the most initiative you remember taking was leading the girls, half-blind, against some survivors of the system restore, also half-blind. Not exactly General Suleiman coordinating assassinations of Mantle military leaders.
You... wouldn't even know where to begin with improving that kind of thinking.
{Chess is always a good start. It's already a military analogy, if that's what you're concerned about.}
Isn't chess also a mathematically solved game?
No, actually- they've solved some of the simpler variations, and they've made some progress by solving endgames, but the traditional game itself hasn't been completely solved yet.
{Regardless, I wasn't going to be your opponent- I was gonna suggest the Process. Give it the rules, see how long it takes to beat you, then me.}
Uh... huh.
That's... not a bad idea, actually. It's definitely a way to kill a few hours on a lazy Sunday, at any rate. You ping the Process, the whole Process, not just 01.
Chess sounds fun! How do we play it?
|||
"Uh, Jaune? I think my Cell's broken." Jools tells you as she walks into the living room. "It just froze in place and now it won't do anythi- woah."
She stares at the holographic chessboard in front of you, pieces moving roughly as fast as you can see, 01 sitting across from you, also staring at the chessboard. After a second, everything stops, showing two kings in the centre of the board.
"Draw in 276 moves!" It chirps happily at you, before turning to look at Jasper. "Ah! I'm sorry! The sysadmin was teaching me how to play chess, and our first reaction was to appropriate available units for processing power!
Wait, what?
"Process units will freeze under load?"
You're not sure what concerns you more- that that's a thing that happens, or that learning to play chess of all things is what does it.
{It is only a week old. Little Green was developed for seven years before it could beat a world champion, and even then, that was just one game. It's already beat you 114 times out of 300, and it's been learning for three hours.}
"Process units will suspend other tasks if another task takes higher priority and needs resources. All tasks submitted by the sysadmin are given highest priority by default, and learning chess without brute-forcing a win is hard. Functionality restored to other Process units, bedrock assimilation resumed. Will restrict outsourcing to this unit and 10m³ of subterranean Process matter. Using what we have learned, that should be enough to play at our current level."
You blink, feeling a little put out that that whole thing just kind of... resolved itself without you.
Wait, why are you disappointed about that?!
"Wait, what was that about bedrock?" Jools asks you after a moment, concern flashing across her face in a sudden frown.
You freeze mid-text to Ada, answering a similar question to your sisters, and calm her fears that she broke her new friend.
"Wow, would you look at that, I forgot I had urgent business literally anywhere that isn't here-" You tell her as you sit up from the couch, and make a run for your room.
"Oh no you don't you little shit-" You hear her growl behind you, and suddenly she's at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you. "Explanation. Now."
"Er, well, you see, the thing is-"
You reach for the Transistor's hilt, helpfully inching up beside you while you stalled, and Jaunt() past Jools and into the landing proper, in front of Jools, who is now glaring up at you.
"This is my one day off a week and I'm not spending any more of it on you than absolutely necessary. Talk."
... Never, use somebody's Semblance against them. That's-that's never ended well for you.
|||
[x] Swordsmanship
Rolls: 14+4+1= 19.
Concordant Action: Tactics. Roll: 20! New Total: 39!
39+9 = 48/120. C- => C (48/120)
Another strike against your shield. You turn it away, going in for your mother's ribs, her own Aura, armour, and ungodly reaction times turning away a strike that would have run her heart through, then bring your shield up once more.
"What's the most important asset a Huntsman can have?" She asks you, not slowing down in the slightest.
"Aura?" You guess, blocking the probing strikes you've learned to expect after a question by now. Granted, you're not quite at the point where you can think about her questions while dealing with her.
"Wrong! The most important asset Huntsmen have is adaptability!" She yells, punctuating her point by attempting to puncture you, forcing you back with every strike. "If you find yourself lost, you find higher ground! If your rations run low, you forage and hunt! If your armour breaks, you use your Aura! If your weapon breaks, you sharpen a fu- a damn stick!"
You find yourself backing up rapidly as your mother apparently starts to overdo it again, but you soon see a glint in her eye that sends your heart to your boots. You watch as the sword leaves her hand, the barely visible wire attaching it to her wrist glinting in the sunlight as it wraps around your ankles midstep, arresting your momentum and sending you to the ground.
"And when a plan of attack doesn't work... you move on to something different." She finishes, smirking at you. "You have to use everything at your disposal to win."
"Noted. Calculating shortest path." You hear a familiar voice call from inside the house.
You can't help but mirror it as your sword bursts through the patio door, sending splinters everywhere, and shocking your mother just in time to send a stream of Ping() at her, the angry reddish-purple balls of plasma unerringly hitting her centre-mass, not doing much damage, but the compounding force eventually sends her onto her ass as well. Once she hits the ground, the stream stops, and your sword sits by obediently.
"As much as I would like to make a smug quip about using everything at my disposal, I had about as much agency in that as you did."
You sit up and start to untangle yourself from the wire around your ankles, gently batting away the sword as your errant tugs bring it uncomfortably close to some parts you'd rather no sharp things near, Aura or not.
"Well, I suppose I deserved... it..." Your mother says, then trails off as she realises what happened to her patio door. And the living room. And the- good God they took out the kitchen as well, how the hell-
She looks between it and your sword for a few moments, a familiar look of tired exasperation coming over her face.
"... Why?" She says, though whether to you, the Transistor, or just the gods above, you can't tell.
"The shortest path between any two points is a straight line."
"{Er, we'll fix it.}"
"Go do that." Your mother says in a voice that could freeze over a boiling kettle, and your sword quickly obliges.
You don't get up just yet- instead, you flop onto your back again, watching the clouds go by as you think. A moment later, your mother joins you, though she doesn't flop so much as gently set herself down.
A Huntsman's greatest asset is adaptability. That's almost profound, right there. At the same time, there's being adaptable, then there's spreading your skills too thin. With the Transistor around, and the Process too, eventually... when are you ever going to need this thing?
"You know," your mother starts, "you're taking to this like a fish to water. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were meant for a sword and shield, honey."
True. It's not like you're bad at this, considering you've only been training three times a week for, what, three weeks? You're aware your mother's sandbagging a lot, but even when her blood does start running hot, you do hold your own for a little bit. Even you know that's... pretty impressive progress.
"True. There's just the question of..."
"'Is it what I want to focus on?' Yeah, I know that one." She finishes for you. "I- Jaune, look, I'm not going to mince words. Your development as a Huntsman wasn't normal. You unlocked your Aura early, your Semblance is a whole 'nother can of worms, and there isn't another sword out there that can act as an independent combatant in the field, and that's entirely discounting what it does for you medically. In the end, no matter what you do... the Transistor isn't going anywhere."
... She's right. She's, entirely right.
Even if you wanted to, and you don't, you still... can't get rid of Blue and Bracket. Even if you relegated them to just helping with your Semblance and your coding, both things you're pretty sure they'd be ok with, at the very least, they'd still be around you, all the time, as a giant floating blue sword with absolutely no ambiguity as to what they were made for.
"... But... do you want to know a secret?"
"Sure, what's one more on the pile?"
She snorts a little at your bitterness, however mildly insincere it may have been.
"Hunters are indecisive, the whole bunch of us. Every moment, from the second we pick up a weapon, we have a little voice in the back of our heads, asking us 'what if this isn't enough?' So, we build weapons that turn into other weapons and use Dust and are generally overengineered to the point of silliness, because we hope that backup plan after backup plan will be enough to save our asses one day. Why do you think I have a sword that turns into a spear and a bunch of garotte wire? Why do you think your father has a maul that turns into a cannon? Why do you think you collect Semblances like other people collect stamps, and yet you still try to learn how to fight with a sword and shield?"
You can't help but frown at that, turning what she has to say over and over in your head like a stone in your hand, trying to figure out what she's saying.
"... I, don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?" You ask her, getting up.
She looks down past her shoes, not even bothering to get up to smirk at you.
"Wanting another weapon is just good instincts." She tells you plainly.
... Oh.
Oh.
Well then.
It's time to choose your weapon, in the most literal way possible. Don't worry, this is by no means a permanent thing- however, changing too often means you'll never truly excel to the level expected of Huntsmen in any one weapon. Inversely, a monk-like devotion to a single form of combat will leave you powerless if it should somehow not be available to you.
Balance is key.
[] Big Blue All The Way- In the end, you're really most comfortable with your friend/floating artillery platform. You kind of enjoy being unique amongst your peers, and the distance between you and your target just makes that all the sweeter. (Full artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, no backup weapon.)
[X] Mix n' Match- Maybe something to back you up wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe not Crocea Mors, that was never really yours to take, but definitely something along those lines. A sword, or a knife, just... a panic weapon. (Artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, close combat weapon for panic attacks.)
[] Buddy Cop Movie That Sh- Your sword. Has an AI in it. Use that. (Use the Transistor as an independent actor-)
-[] Lean back. Take a load off. Let your sword do all the work for you. (-and take a support role in battle. Act as reconnaissance/communication- leaves you with little personal defence.)
-[] Take the fight to them as well. (-and take an active role in battle alongside your sword. Requires a second 'primary' weapon, limits support roles.)
[] Write-in (must be approved by GM before being voted on)
|||
[x] Bedrock Assimilation
You consider the Process's question for a moment and its proposed options.
On one hand, personal assistants are an idea that's been bouncing about your head for some time now, partly thanks to Ada, but… something doesn't sit right with you about it.
{People don't treat their toys very well, Jaune. Look at all those tech destruction channels out there, or even just the idiots who yell at their voice-activated assistants because it messed something up, or just for fun. That's not even touching on the things that it'll learn from people.}
… Fair point. Maybe just keep that for people you trust. Like your teammates. And your family.
And maybe Rosalind.
Keeping that in mind though, you can't help but feel like a lot of these options might make people unhappy, to begin with…
So, go with the sneakiest option.
Assimilating the bedrock… what would that entail?
Process would find a key point of entry that would not be noticed- most likely on property owned by the sysadmin's family- and burrow through the local regolith until we reach bedrock. Once that occurs, we will begin assimilating all matter below the city. It will be done slowly at first, to ensure we are undetected by seismological equipment, alongside making sure we do not compromise structural integrity above. Any precious materials will be processed and stored.
{Hrm. It'd be pretty sneaky, but... probably illegal. It's not as if we own the land we're mining under.}
If it's that deep underground, nobody will know until we build up enough capital on the surface to get mining rights from the government.
True...
Would the tree stump out back work as a starting point?
Its roots would serve as decent starting points for tunnels through the regolith. Do you believe this to be the best option?
… You kind of do. Actually, yeah, that's a good idea. You look down at the expectant Cell, quite literally quivering with excitement, waiting for you to say something, anything.
"Go." You oblige it.
01 rushes off the moment you give your blessing, bonking into your door and slipping under it as a puff of Process particles. As soon as it's out of sight, your curiosity becomes overwhelming, and you just have to follow it out.
You see more than one Cell on your way out, and most of your family soon join you.
"Jaune? What's happening?" Jaana asks, following her Cell out from the living room.
"Uh… you know, I'll get back to you on that one."
The robots gently bump into each other, fusing and creating something larger, growing until the resulting creature is almost half a metre tall, clacking along the floor on spindly legs connected to a body shaped like a teardrop, the narrow end pointing out behind it like a metal ponytail.
You follow it through to the kitchen just in time to see it fumbling with the twist knob on the patio door. After a few moments, it stops and turns to you instead, gently whining at you like a dog.
Between the look your family gives you, and the supercell's whining, all you can really do is laugh.
Jaana, quick to learn, turns to your sword instead.
"What's happening right now?"
"{The Process reached a stable version. We came to a decision on what to do with it, and, well, the poor thing's excited. Would you mind open the door for it? We don't, exactly have a good track record with them.}"
"You don't say," Jools mutters as she walks forward and opens the door, the Creep-
Agh, stop doing that-
Ahem, the Creep, not what you would have chosen, but alright, scrabbles out the door and lopes into your back garden, leaving a trail of innovation behind it as its footsteps progress from pinholes in the dirt to several pinholes in the dirt, before eventually flattening out into claws then proper feet as it makes it ways to the tree stump at the back of the garden. You follow it out, as does everybody else because apparently they're invested at this point, just in time to watch your new robot do its thing.
The act of Processing is odd to watch, but it's even odder to feel- you watch as a thin spray of nanites hits the dead wood and spreads like a fungal growth, quickly covering the entire outer layer before it loses cohesion and melts into a puddle of undifferentiated catoms, quickly disappearing down the hole left behind.
Your new robot dog looks down the hole for a second, admiring its handiwork as far as you can tell before it too breaks down into a formless mass of metal goop and reforms into the eight Cells that made it up in the first place. 01 comes back to you, chirping away happily as it gives you live status updates on the Processed mass and its progress towards bedrock.
"... Well, if that's done, I'm going to bed." Jasper says after a moment of silence.
"Wh- that's it?! You're just going to watch that happen, and decide to go back to bed?!" Jools asks your other sister.
"Let me answer your question with a question; do you really want to know the specifics beyond 'dad's lost his summertime nemesis?'"
Jools puts a finger up, opening her mouth to say something. After a moment, the finger wilts, and her mouth closes.
"... Screw this, I'm getting another gin and tonic." She mutters after a moment, stalking back inside to presumably get drunk and try to forget all about that reminder of the controlled grey goo scenario living in her house.
… You know what, you're legal now, you might go and join her-
|||
[x] Personal Assistant AI Design
Saturday
You sit on your bed, staring at the number in your bank account accusingly.
1400 Lien.
That's nothing. You had 20k less than 24 hours ago, for god's sake. You do some quick mental arithmetic and how did you blow through 84.91% of your savings in one hour?
{Hey, the deadline for that spreadsheet tutorial is today.}
Oh, yeah, you should probably give that to them.
... Ok, 3900 Lien, that's, more respectable. Still not enough, though, not for you. You get the sinking feeling that turning the Process into a legitimate business is going to cost you a lot of money at first, even if just to set up a company.
The point you are making, to nobody in particular, is that you need a job.
{Well, there's a freelance contract going, something about... pfft-}
What? What's so funny?
{It's a consulting contract for a startup company launching a voice-activated personal assistant.}
... Huh. Well, ain't that some shit. How much?
{5000 Lien. Not bad pay, all told.}
Hrm. Well, you can't say no to an easy 5k. Especially since 'consulting' usually translates to 'sit around and tell people what they're doing wrong,' and you can totally get behind that.
|||
"Everybody gets one eventually..." Bad Employer Roll, 1d20 = 11.
Damn near bust, that was. You get home, thank your father for standard iron-clad contracts, and marvel at the 5000 Lien in your bank account like one would marvel at blood drawn from a stone.
Never assume an easy job is going to stay easy, that's like, rule one of freelancing. Anyway, you get Blue to blacklist that particular company from your job results and move on with your evening.
|||
Sunday
[x] Tactics
-[x]Teach the robit how into chess
Rolls: 7+10+1= 18.
Concordant Action: Swordsmanship. Roll: 20! New Roll Total: 38!
85+38 = 123/120. C+ => B- (3/300)
"Battle, on all levels, is simply the act of outthinking and outmanoeuvring your opponent."
It occurs to you that your strategic senses may not be... great, considering you did take a mostly reactive role during the test, the most initiative you remember taking was leading the girls, half-blind, against some survivors of the system restore, also half-blind. Not exactly General Suleiman coordinating assassinations of Mantle military leaders.
You... wouldn't even know where to begin with improving that kind of thinking.
{Chess is always a good start. It's already a military analogy, if that's what you're concerned about.}
Isn't chess also a mathematically solved game?
No, actually- they've solved some of the simpler variations, and they've made some progress by solving endgames, but the traditional game itself hasn't been completely solved yet.
{Regardless, I wasn't going to be your opponent- I was gonna suggest the Process. Give it the rules, see how long it takes to beat you, then me.}
Uh... huh.
That's... not a bad idea, actually. It's definitely a way to kill a few hours on a lazy Sunday, at any rate. You ping the Process, the whole Process, not just 01.
Chess sounds fun! How do we play it?
|||
"Uh, Jaune? I think my Cell's broken." Jools tells you as she walks into the living room. "It just froze in place and now it won't do anythi- woah."
She stares at the holographic chessboard in front of you, pieces moving roughly as fast as you can see, 01 sitting across from you, also staring at the chessboard. After a second, everything stops, showing two kings in the centre of the board.
"Draw in 276 moves!" It chirps happily at you, before turning to look at Jasper. "Ah! I'm sorry! The sysadmin was teaching me how to play chess, and our first reaction was to appropriate available units for processing power!
Wait, what?
"Process units will freeze under load?"
You're not sure what concerns you more- that that's a thing that happens, or that learning to play chess of all things is what does it.
{It is only a week old. Little Green was developed for seven years before it could beat a world champion, and even then, that was just one game. It's already beat you 114 times out of 300, and it's been learning for three hours.}
"Process units will suspend other tasks if another task takes higher priority and needs resources. All tasks submitted by the sysadmin are given highest priority by default, and learning chess without brute-forcing a win is hard. Functionality restored to other Process units, bedrock assimilation resumed. Will restrict outsourcing to this unit and 10m³ of subterranean Process matter. Using what we have learned, that should be enough to play at our current level."
You blink, feeling a little put out that that whole thing just kind of... resolved itself without you.
Wait, why are you disappointed about that?!
"Wait, what was that about bedrock?" Jools asks you after a moment, concern flashing across her face in a sudden frown.
You freeze mid-text to Ada, answering a similar question to your sisters, and calm her fears that she broke her new friend.
"Wow, would you look at that, I forgot I had urgent business literally anywhere that isn't here-" You tell her as you sit up from the couch, and make a run for your room.
"Oh no you don't you little shit-" You hear her growl behind you, and suddenly she's at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you. "Explanation. Now."
"Er, well, you see, the thing is-"
You reach for the Transistor's hilt, helpfully inching up beside you while you stalled, and Jaunt() past Jools and into the landing proper, in front of Jools, who is now glaring up at you.
"This is my one day off a week and I'm not spending any more of it on you than absolutely necessary. Talk."
... Never, use somebody's Semblance against them. That's-that's never ended well for you.
|||
Monday
[x] Swordsmanship
Rolls: 14+4+1= 19.
Concordant Action: Tactics. Roll: 20! New Total: 39!
39+9 = 48/120. C- => C (48/120)
Another strike against your shield. You turn it away, going in for your mother's ribs, her own Aura, armour, and ungodly reaction times turning away a strike that would have run her heart through, then bring your shield up once more.
"What's the most important asset a Huntsman can have?" She asks you, not slowing down in the slightest.
"Aura?" You guess, blocking the probing strikes you've learned to expect after a question by now. Granted, you're not quite at the point where you can think about her questions while dealing with her.
"Wrong! The most important asset Huntsmen have is adaptability!" She yells, punctuating her point by attempting to puncture you, forcing you back with every strike. "If you find yourself lost, you find higher ground! If your rations run low, you forage and hunt! If your armour breaks, you use your Aura! If your weapon breaks, you sharpen a fu- a damn stick!"
You find yourself backing up rapidly as your mother apparently starts to overdo it again, but you soon see a glint in her eye that sends your heart to your boots. You watch as the sword leaves her hand, the barely visible wire attaching it to her wrist glinting in the sunlight as it wraps around your ankles midstep, arresting your momentum and sending you to the ground.
"And when a plan of attack doesn't work... you move on to something different." She finishes, smirking at you. "You have to use everything at your disposal to win."
"Noted. Calculating shortest path." You hear a familiar voice call from inside the house.
You can't help but mirror it as your sword bursts through the patio door, sending splinters everywhere, and shocking your mother just in time to send a stream of Ping() at her, the angry reddish-purple balls of plasma unerringly hitting her centre-mass, not doing much damage, but the compounding force eventually sends her onto her ass as well. Once she hits the ground, the stream stops, and your sword sits by obediently.
"As much as I would like to make a smug quip about using everything at my disposal, I had about as much agency in that as you did."
You sit up and start to untangle yourself from the wire around your ankles, gently batting away the sword as your errant tugs bring it uncomfortably close to some parts you'd rather no sharp things near, Aura or not.
"Well, I suppose I deserved... it..." Your mother says, then trails off as she realises what happened to her patio door. And the living room. And the- good God they took out the kitchen as well, how the hell-
She looks between it and your sword for a few moments, a familiar look of tired exasperation coming over her face.
"... Why?" She says, though whether to you, the Transistor, or just the gods above, you can't tell.
"The shortest path between any two points is a straight line."
"{Er, we'll fix it.}"
"Go do that." Your mother says in a voice that could freeze over a boiling kettle, and your sword quickly obliges.
You don't get up just yet- instead, you flop onto your back again, watching the clouds go by as you think. A moment later, your mother joins you, though she doesn't flop so much as gently set herself down.
A Huntsman's greatest asset is adaptability. That's almost profound, right there. At the same time, there's being adaptable, then there's spreading your skills too thin. With the Transistor around, and the Process too, eventually... when are you ever going to need this thing?
"You know," your mother starts, "you're taking to this like a fish to water. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were meant for a sword and shield, honey."
True. It's not like you're bad at this, considering you've only been training three times a week for, what, three weeks? You're aware your mother's sandbagging a lot, but even when her blood does start running hot, you do hold your own for a little bit. Even you know that's... pretty impressive progress.
"True. There's just the question of..."
"'Is it what I want to focus on?' Yeah, I know that one." She finishes for you. "I- Jaune, look, I'm not going to mince words. Your development as a Huntsman wasn't normal. You unlocked your Aura early, your Semblance is a whole 'nother can of worms, and there isn't another sword out there that can act as an independent combatant in the field, and that's entirely discounting what it does for you medically. In the end, no matter what you do... the Transistor isn't going anywhere."
... She's right. She's, entirely right.
Even if you wanted to, and you don't, you still... can't get rid of Blue and Bracket. Even if you relegated them to just helping with your Semblance and your coding, both things you're pretty sure they'd be ok with, at the very least, they'd still be around you, all the time, as a giant floating blue sword with absolutely no ambiguity as to what they were made for.
"... But... do you want to know a secret?"
"Sure, what's one more on the pile?"
She snorts a little at your bitterness, however mildly insincere it may have been.
"Hunters are indecisive, the whole bunch of us. Every moment, from the second we pick up a weapon, we have a little voice in the back of our heads, asking us 'what if this isn't enough?' So, we build weapons that turn into other weapons and use Dust and are generally overengineered to the point of silliness, because we hope that backup plan after backup plan will be enough to save our asses one day. Why do you think I have a sword that turns into a spear and a bunch of garotte wire? Why do you think your father has a maul that turns into a cannon? Why do you think you collect Semblances like other people collect stamps, and yet you still try to learn how to fight with a sword and shield?"
You can't help but frown at that, turning what she has to say over and over in your head like a stone in your hand, trying to figure out what she's saying.
"... I, don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?" You ask her, getting up.
She looks down past her shoes, not even bothering to get up to smirk at you.
"Wanting another weapon is just good instincts." She tells you plainly.
... Oh.
Oh.
Well then.
It's time to choose your weapon, in the most literal way possible. Don't worry, this is by no means a permanent thing- however, changing too often means you'll never truly excel to the level expected of Huntsmen in any one weapon. Inversely, a monk-like devotion to a single form of combat will leave you powerless if it should somehow not be available to you.
Balance is key.
[X] Mix n' Match- Maybe something to back you up wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe not Crocea Mors, that was never really yours to take, but definitely something along those lines. A sword, or a knife, just... a panic weapon. (Artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, close combat weapon for panic attacks.)
-[] Lean back. Take a load off. Let your sword do all the work for you. (-and take a support role in battle. Act as reconnaissance/communication- leaves you with little personal defence.)
-[] Take the fight to them as well. (-and take an active role in battle alongside your sword. Requires a second 'primary' weapon, limits support roles.)
[] Write-in (must be approved by GM before being voted on)
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Stardust Falcon
Legendary Creature - Bird Wizard
- Location
- The Infinite Sorrow
[X] Big Blue All The Way- In the end, you're really most comfortable with your friend/floating artillery platform. You kind of enjoy being unique amongst your peers, and the distance between you and your target just makes that all the sweeter. (Full artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, no backup weapon.)
Friendship through SUPERIOR FIREPOWER!
Friendship through SUPERIOR FIREPOWER!
- Location
- United states
[X] Buddy Cop Movie That Sh- Your sword. Has an AI in it. Use that. (Use the Transistor as an independent actor-)
-[X] Take the fight to them as well. (-and take an active role in battle alongside your sword. Requires a second 'primary' weapon, limits support roles.)
This seems like the best choice for our fighting style and was actually planning in bringing this up. The Transistor can act independently of us and we have been training to use a sword. No reason the Transistor and us can't fight side by side. It would also be an extremely effective tactic since Jaune would count as two fighters in on making us pretty versatile.
-[X] Take the fight to them as well. (-and take an active role in battle alongside your sword. Requires a second 'primary' weapon, limits support roles.)
This seems like the best choice for our fighting style and was actually planning in bringing this up. The Transistor can act independently of us and we have been training to use a sword. No reason the Transistor and us can't fight side by side. It would also be an extremely effective tactic since Jaune would count as two fighters in on making us pretty versatile.
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- Location
- Florida
[X] Big Blue All The Way- In the end, you're really most comfortable with your friend/floating artillery platform. You kind of enjoy being unique amongst your peers, and the distance between you and your target just makes that all the sweeter. (Full artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, no backup weapon.)
Voting this for now. Nothing says overwhelming firepower like being an artillery platform. That's why hunters go in teams anyway.
Voting this for now. Nothing says overwhelming firepower like being an artillery platform. That's why hunters go in teams anyway.
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- Location
- The Surface Of A Hostile Planet
Huh.
This choice is sticking out to me just because of how novel it is.
I'm not really sure it's optimal, per-se - it seems like the Transistor is more effective with us wielding it then left by itself, and a backup weapon is rarely a bad thing, but going full dedicated mission control is just something strange and interesting to see in the setting, and that intrigues me.
I can see it now, Jaune leaning against a wall, providing scanning data and overwatch during an infiltration, hastily looking up something online or cracking some firewalls for a mission. Or later on, frantically typing with dozens of holographic screens flickering around him as he tries to coordinate a defense during the Fall of Beacon.
It's a very interesting potential direction to go. Probably among the best choices for eventually making use of the Process too - everyone else is playing Dark Souls, but Jaune's here to play some Supreme Commander.
Of course, going full artillery has its own small joys as well, and Jaune pulling out an industrial sized can of whoopass sounds dope. It's just a less unique role, since blasty semblances and dust use isn't unheard of.
This choice is sticking out to me just because of how novel it is.
I'm not really sure it's optimal, per-se - it seems like the Transistor is more effective with us wielding it then left by itself, and a backup weapon is rarely a bad thing, but going full dedicated mission control is just something strange and interesting to see in the setting, and that intrigues me.
I can see it now, Jaune leaning against a wall, providing scanning data and overwatch during an infiltration, hastily looking up something online or cracking some firewalls for a mission. Or later on, frantically typing with dozens of holographic screens flickering around him as he tries to coordinate a defense during the Fall of Beacon.
It's a very interesting potential direction to go. Probably among the best choices for eventually making use of the Process too - everyone else is playing Dark Souls, but Jaune's here to play some Supreme Commander.
Of course, going full artillery has its own small joys as well, and Jaune pulling out an industrial sized can of whoopass sounds dope. It's just a less unique role, since blasty semblances and dust use isn't unheard of.
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- Location
- United states
Guys, we have been training to use our sword for a long while. Let's not make all the time we put into that wasted effort. Rather we not just stick to Blue incase he isn't avaiable to us and like for us to be able to be more versatile by being able to fight in both long and short range.
Not to mention not having a back up weapon just seems really stupid considering that using your main weapon is normally a death sentence for huntsman and the Transistor is pretty much not difficult to carry around anyway.
Not to mention not having a back up weapon just seems really stupid considering that using your main weapon is normally a death sentence for huntsman and the Transistor is pretty much not difficult to carry around anyway.
SneakyWalrus
Is the Water Free?
I vote we copy Red and use the Transistor in the same manner she did. That is to say, we should hit people with it.
To paraphrase a very popular quote: "That thing was too big to be called a sword. Too big, too thick, too heavy and too rough. It was more like a large hunk of Math made real."
To paraphrase a very popular quote: "That thing was too big to be called a sword. Too big, too thick, too heavy and too rough. It was more like a large hunk of Math made real."
- Location
- Home
[X] Big Blue All The Way- In the end, you're really most comfortable with your friend/floating artillery platform. You kind of enjoy being unique amongst your peers, and the distance between you and your target just makes that all the sweeter. (Full artillery style, long/medium range combat preferred, no backup weapon.)
PsyFarrow
Verified Necrodancer
- Location
- Space
[X] Buddy Cop Movie That Sh- Your sword. Has an AI in it. Use that. (Use the Transistor as an independent actor-)
-[X] Lean back. Take a load off. Let your sword do all the work for you. (-and take a support role in battle. Act as reconnaissance/communication- leaves you with little personal defence.)
Time to be the Support main in a world of DPS
-[X] Lean back. Take a load off. Let your sword do all the work for you. (-and take a support role in battle. Act as reconnaissance/communication- leaves you with little personal defence.)
Time to be the Support main in a world of DPS