Trooper1023
Look, sir! Droids!
- Location
- NYC USA
"Spatial Translocation"? Is this not the same as:
This spell, it's called Jigen Tensou.
Magical Girl Escalation Taylor (Worm/Nanoha)
- Thread starter Silently Watches
- Start date
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
Not quite. In A's, the Wolkenritter and Nanoha/Fate were jumping to planets in nearby dimensions, hence why they could survive in that atmosphere/not explode or implode/not melt from acid rain. This spell does not do that since it doesn't cross dimensions. Theoretically, you could go to another planet, but from a practical standpoint of places you could survive, you're limited to Earth Bet.
There is a spell that can do what you want, but it's the next and last spell on that branch. Dimensional Transfer I think is the name in both my notes and canon, but I don't have my notes in front of me right now.
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Trooper1023
Look, sir! Droids!
- Location
- NYC USA
That's Jigen Tensou. Ok, that answers that: Spatial Translocation is a completely different spell.
Thaaaaaanks.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
If you want to see something funny, check Samantha's skill tree.That's Jigen Tensou. Ok, that answers that: Spatial Translocation is a completely different spell.
Thaaaaaanks.
Yes, that is the same spell. Arc 4, and you're still trailing behind your Guardian Beast.
Actually, @Silently Watches
You just made a very basic mistake:
Most people didn't know voting was open.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
I said that voting would be open 24 hours after the chapter dropped and said that in the chapter itself. I posted a reminder when the vote opened. I threadmarked that reminder so people could easily tell that the vote was open. And I gave them four days to look at their watched threads list and see that people were voting. If the honest reason they didn't vote was because there was no "The OP has posted X words in the thread" alert that gets mixed in with all the other thread alerts? No, not feeling sympathetic.
GMs take the lion's share of the responsibility for whatever happens in the quest, but there are some things that players are responsible for, and looking at the thread when you know there's a vote coming up? Your responsibility.
It doesn't help that you're the only one who's said that's the reason why people didn't vote, and I know the vote tally was more than 100 words. Anyone who was eagerly waiting for that to tell them when to vote should have been irritated enough to mention not getting to vote.
The issue with entry barriers is reduced motivation to participate. And well...they need to go visit another page to get the vote options.
Either way, it adds up as participation reducers. It's your choice whether to make it accessible or keep on wishing for participation. I'll be here regardless
Either way, it adds up as participation reducers. It's your choice whether to make it accessible or keep on wishing for participation. I'll be here regardless
Emigration 4.5
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
[ ] Picking up the Pieces
Emigration 4.5
Friday, March 18
Cold Atlantic waves lap at your boots while you watch the sun sink behind the watery horizon. "You're sure about this?"
«Yes, Mistress. Based on videos uploaded onto the Internet and extrapolating speed and trajectory, fragments of the carrier ship would have fallen along this course and been submerged. Likely locations of various fragments have been approximated.»
"How big an area are we talking about?"
You hope it's going to be something fairly small, maybe even small enough that you could cover it with Wide Area Search, but your Device disappoints you. «Seventy percent likelihood in an area of 0.8 mile diameter. Ninety-five percent within two miles from center.»
"Great." You shake your head with a sigh. "Oh, well. Let's get started."
«There is one additional issue,» Perfect Storm interrupts. «Mistress's Barrier Jacket is not appropriate for undersea search efforts. It is set to protect against sudden impact and energy attacks. It will need to be recalibrated. Contained oxygen supply, resistance to increased pressures. Defense against enemy attack will be limited, but probability of confrontation is minimal.»
Barely do you have time to open your mouth before your costume shines a sickly red. Slick fabric slides around on your body, and then the light fades to reveal the new 'calibration'. You've gotten used to your Barrier Jacket's short skirt and top, even the slinking walk that comes built in, but your initial discomfort comes back full force now that you're stuck in this itty-bitty string bikini. "Not right now, but very soon you and I are going to have a long talk about what I consider being properly dressed."
Samantha chortles behind you. "Don't listen to her, Storm. She just needs a push to dress like a teenage girl is supposed to want to dress."
"Don't give it any ideas just because you like to embarrass me." Shooting her a look through narrowed eyes, you taunt, "Besides, I want to see what it comes up with for you. Hopefully it'll be a swimsuit from the 1900s or something."
«Guardian Beasts possess Inherent Forcefields, not Barrier Jackets,» Perfect Storm says, speaking from its new form as a red sphere set into the metal vambrace that wraps around your right forearm. «They cannot be recalibrated.»
"Guess that answers that question," Samantha says with a faint laugh. You can see the worry in her eyes, though. Right now, you don't have the defenses you've gotten used to, and she won't be there to back you up if you get into trouble this time. As if she can read your mind, she shakes her head. "You're going into the ocean. You shouldn't be in any real danger unless you decide to play tag with a great white or try to punch Leviathan. You know, the kind of things I hope you're smart enough not to do." Giving you a broad, creepy smile, she moves closer to clasp your hands in her own. "Please don't prove me wrong."
"Shouldn't be a problem." She nods and backs off, and you turn around to face the sea once again. "Okay, Perfect Storm. Where's the first one?"
A holographic arrow flies from your feet into the distance.
Giving Samantha a wave, you leap to the sky. Several silent minutes pass with your only sight the waves slipping away below you before you ask, "Are you sure the pieces are this far out?"
«Other pieces are likely located closer to shore, but those would all be small pieces of debris with little informative value. Larger pieces would have fallen farther away.»
Eventually you reach the first site. Taking a deep breath, which is probably unnecessary all things considered, you shoot straight up into the air and stop on a dime. The wind rustles in your ear as you spin until you're upside down, the water racing towards you. You hit the water with a splash and sink the twenty feet or so to the bottom. «This is the center of that circle you plotted out, right?» you ask your Device. «Show me.»
A green grid spreads out around you.
«Yeah, this will work fine. Mark out where I've been so I don't run over the same spot multiple times.» Rising from the seafloor, you start to fly in a circle, keeping the red line to your side and spreading out in an ever-widening spiral. Several minutes later, you reach the edge of the grid and make a final lap to make sure you didn't miss anything just outside the range. «There's nothing here, Storm.»
«Agreed, Mistress.»
You reach down and pet the scarlet jewel. Your Device sounds so heartbroken, and not without good reason. This is only there first place you've looked, so you might find exactly what it's looking for in the next one, but this definitely isn't a good way to start the search.
Your next stop arrives, but you find nothing more than you did the first time. Same for the third. Cruising through the air towards the fourth, you're starting to get worried. By now, the shore is but a distant memory, and the water is getting progressively deeper. How far down can this beach-style Barrier Jacket go?
A quick dive plunges you under the surface, but before you can prompt Perfect Storm to project the search grid, two things catch your attention. The first is the large chunk of metal sitting on the ocean floor, black streaks coating the surface and the edges maybe a little rounder than you think they probably were before hitting Earth Bet's atmosphere but still definitely intact. It's huge, which shouldn't surprise you as much as it does considering this is an alien spaceship; forty feet tall but irregularly shaped, almost as if it had been sheared lengthwise at an angle. You can only guess at just how big this thing must have been before it broke apart.
The second is the edge of the sea bottom, beyond which all you can see is a darkening blue.
You drift forwards to the edge and peer downwards at the inky blackness below. That… is a really steep drop, practically straight down. «Storm, where are we?»
«Accessing Internet.» It can do that from all the way down here? «Based on current coordinates, ahead is the Sohm's Abyssal Plain. Approximate average depth: 17,000 feet.»
Silence drifts between you for a moment. «Can I…?»
«Negative. Mistress will be crushed long before she reaches the bottom.»
Good to know.
Of course, now you have to deal with the tiny little problem that all the rest of the pieces of Storm's ship are farther that way where it's impossible reach them. This is your one big find, and you had better make the most of it.
Floating off the edge, you circle the piece of rubble and see that the end sticking out over the abyssal plain has a wide opening, presumably where it was torn from the rest of the ship. The floors are canted at an angle, lending credence to your assumption that it was damaged during entry. Choosing the biggest opening, you conjure a couple of Flare Shooters for light and head inside.
To your immense relief, you don't find a bunch of bodies waiting for you. You had serious doubts there would be any here, especially with that gaping hole, but you just couldn't shake the worry that somehow you'd walk into a scene out of a horror movie. The lack of corpses doesn't mean your exploration is all sunshine and rainbows, though. Somewhere between hitting the atmosphere, the surface of the water, and the rocky seafloor, the interior had been cracked and warped, and you have to twist carefully around the strips of metal flooring and inner walls that now criss-cross the space. «Would the computer be in the front of the ship?» you ask.
«Layout of ship is unknown.»
Right, of course. That's the whole reason you're here in the first place, because Perfect Storm's memory is so corrupted that it doesn't know where it comes from or even what its real name is. How would it know where anything is in this ship, even if it had spent its entire existence on this one spaceship?
Thinking about it, you hope for Perfect Storm's sake that it isn't this ship's computer.
You're about fifty feet in when you stop. You don't know what this computer core is supposed to look like if it's even here, and there has to be a better way to find it than just poking around blindly.
«There is,» Perfect Storm announces. You must have been broadcasting again. «Mistress merely needs hold out her hand and call upon her magic.»
Without a better idea of what to do, you do just that. A ribbon of writing appears circling around your right wrist, but this isn't the orange of your magic. It's instead a deep, dark purple, the color of ripe eggplant. While you stare, casting triangles of the same color spin into existence, and they fire cables of some kind into the nearby wall. A couple of lights reveal themselves by flickering on and off, and most of the cables pull out just long enough for you to see the forked ends before they stab into new and more deliberate locations. The flickering increases, spreading all along the ship.
A wave of lethargy sweeps over you and begins dragging you down.
Before you can worry about the risks of passing out underwater, the cables retract and the triangles and ribbon vanish. «Highly mana-intensive device located. It is likely a vital component to run the ship, possibly computational or life support—»
A loud sound, not a boom nor a thump but something in between, can be heard outside the ship, and the entire thing jerks sideways and twists. You grab onto one of the pieces of metal to keep it from swatting you in the face. «What was THAT?!»
«…It is possible that a forward laser cannon discharged due to indiscriminate empowerment while locating this system.»
A laser cannon. Like in the movies. Okay. That makes you wonder just what kind of ship this was, but you set that question to the back of your mind and focus on the red glow your Device is projecting on the ceiling another fifteen or twenty feet down the hallway. You make your way towards it, your progress helped when the ship lurches several feet backwards. «Another laser?»
Perfect Storm doesn't answer, which you take as it not knowing, either, and instead you take a look at the virtual rectangle. «System should be behind this wall,» it says.
Adding even more room for error, you flick a Rust Shooter about half a foot from the edge and nod when the area of destruction doesn't quite make it all the way. That should do the trick. Firing that spell repeatedly, you slowly work your way up one side and almost make it halfway to the next corner when the ship again lurches, sliding backwards and tilting downwards more than either time before.
That wasn't a laser.
You turn yourself slightly so your work area is once more square while you turn this curiosity over in your head. Why would the ship be moving so much? Taking a glance to the side, the obvious answer smacks you in the face as you stare past the thicket of metal at the darker water beyond. «We're perched on the edge of a cliff. Storm, could that laser have broken the rock enough that it's crumbling and we're about to fall off?»
A long moment passes before Perfect Storm starts blaring a warning klaxon, and you move with newfound haste. Rust Shooter is taking too long, and instead you pull out Flare Shooter. These bullets shine white and set the nearby water to boiling in the brief instant between creation and melting the bulkhead.
The ship shifts three or four more times before your impromptu acetylene torches make enough room for you to reach your fingers into the gap and rip the wall away, your lack of strength made up for by your buoyancy and your flight. A cylinder much smaller than the rectangle is revealed, maybe half your height and as big around as your two arms put together. Several more Flare Shooters destroy the braces holding it in place and the wires running from its dozen ports.
You rip it out of the wall just in time for the ship to tilt almost ninety degrees and start falling.
Perfect Storm is shouting something into your head, but you're too preoccupied with getting the hell out of here to listen. More Flare Shooters hit the wall as fast as you can make them. This was the closest section to the top of the ship, right?! If you can melt your way through, you should reach open—
The circle of metal falls away, and you dash out into the ocean with the tube right behind you. The falling ship catches on the end and spins you around and around until you don't know which way is up.
Thankfully, Perfect Storm does. Your flight spell redirects itself, and you rocket backwards and watch the ship fall into the stygian abyss. Then the broken edge of the cliff zooms past you, and a few seconds later, your head breaks the surface of the water.
"I know this means a lot to you," you tell your Device, "and I'm happy to help you out, but let's not do that again."
Perfect Storm beeps consolingly at you.
Whatever this tube thing thing is, it had better be worth the trip. Cradling it to your chest, you sigh with no little relief when your Device paints you a path. Another Flare Shooter, this time to act as light now that the sun is fully gone, and you start skimming through the water to shore, Samantha, and ultimately sleep.
Recursion Field learned.
+1 training to Solar Wrath (4/6 Adept).
Just a thought, but it would be really mean of me to give you what looks like a subquest option but is really an instant kill vote, wouldn't it?
Anyway, now you have… something for PS to play with. How do you want to spend your time next week?
Emigration 4.5
Friday, March 18
Cold Atlantic waves lap at your boots while you watch the sun sink behind the watery horizon. "You're sure about this?"
«Yes, Mistress. Based on videos uploaded onto the Internet and extrapolating speed and trajectory, fragments of the carrier ship would have fallen along this course and been submerged. Likely locations of various fragments have been approximated.»
"How big an area are we talking about?"
You hope it's going to be something fairly small, maybe even small enough that you could cover it with Wide Area Search, but your Device disappoints you. «Seventy percent likelihood in an area of 0.8 mile diameter. Ninety-five percent within two miles from center.»
"Great." You shake your head with a sigh. "Oh, well. Let's get started."
«There is one additional issue,» Perfect Storm interrupts. «Mistress's Barrier Jacket is not appropriate for undersea search efforts. It is set to protect against sudden impact and energy attacks. It will need to be recalibrated. Contained oxygen supply, resistance to increased pressures. Defense against enemy attack will be limited, but probability of confrontation is minimal.»
Barely do you have time to open your mouth before your costume shines a sickly red. Slick fabric slides around on your body, and then the light fades to reveal the new 'calibration'. You've gotten used to your Barrier Jacket's short skirt and top, even the slinking walk that comes built in, but your initial discomfort comes back full force now that you're stuck in this itty-bitty string bikini. "Not right now, but very soon you and I are going to have a long talk about what I consider being properly dressed."
Samantha chortles behind you. "Don't listen to her, Storm. She just needs a push to dress like a teenage girl is supposed to want to dress."
"Don't give it any ideas just because you like to embarrass me." Shooting her a look through narrowed eyes, you taunt, "Besides, I want to see what it comes up with for you. Hopefully it'll be a swimsuit from the 1900s or something."
«Guardian Beasts possess Inherent Forcefields, not Barrier Jackets,» Perfect Storm says, speaking from its new form as a red sphere set into the metal vambrace that wraps around your right forearm. «They cannot be recalibrated.»
"Guess that answers that question," Samantha says with a faint laugh. You can see the worry in her eyes, though. Right now, you don't have the defenses you've gotten used to, and she won't be there to back you up if you get into trouble this time. As if she can read your mind, she shakes her head. "You're going into the ocean. You shouldn't be in any real danger unless you decide to play tag with a great white or try to punch Leviathan. You know, the kind of things I hope you're smart enough not to do." Giving you a broad, creepy smile, she moves closer to clasp your hands in her own. "Please don't prove me wrong."
"Shouldn't be a problem." She nods and backs off, and you turn around to face the sea once again. "Okay, Perfect Storm. Where's the first one?"
A holographic arrow flies from your feet into the distance.
Giving Samantha a wave, you leap to the sky. Several silent minutes pass with your only sight the waves slipping away below you before you ask, "Are you sure the pieces are this far out?"
«Other pieces are likely located closer to shore, but those would all be small pieces of debris with little informative value. Larger pieces would have fallen farther away.»
Eventually you reach the first site. Taking a deep breath, which is probably unnecessary all things considered, you shoot straight up into the air and stop on a dime. The wind rustles in your ear as you spin until you're upside down, the water racing towards you. You hit the water with a splash and sink the twenty feet or so to the bottom. «This is the center of that circle you plotted out, right?» you ask your Device. «Show me.»
A green grid spreads out around you.
«Yeah, this will work fine. Mark out where I've been so I don't run over the same spot multiple times.» Rising from the seafloor, you start to fly in a circle, keeping the red line to your side and spreading out in an ever-widening spiral. Several minutes later, you reach the edge of the grid and make a final lap to make sure you didn't miss anything just outside the range. «There's nothing here, Storm.»
«Agreed, Mistress.»
You reach down and pet the scarlet jewel. Your Device sounds so heartbroken, and not without good reason. This is only there first place you've looked, so you might find exactly what it's looking for in the next one, but this definitely isn't a good way to start the search.
Your next stop arrives, but you find nothing more than you did the first time. Same for the third. Cruising through the air towards the fourth, you're starting to get worried. By now, the shore is but a distant memory, and the water is getting progressively deeper. How far down can this beach-style Barrier Jacket go?
A quick dive plunges you under the surface, but before you can prompt Perfect Storm to project the search grid, two things catch your attention. The first is the large chunk of metal sitting on the ocean floor, black streaks coating the surface and the edges maybe a little rounder than you think they probably were before hitting Earth Bet's atmosphere but still definitely intact. It's huge, which shouldn't surprise you as much as it does considering this is an alien spaceship; forty feet tall but irregularly shaped, almost as if it had been sheared lengthwise at an angle. You can only guess at just how big this thing must have been before it broke apart.
The second is the edge of the sea bottom, beyond which all you can see is a darkening blue.
You drift forwards to the edge and peer downwards at the inky blackness below. That… is a really steep drop, practically straight down. «Storm, where are we?»
«Accessing Internet.» It can do that from all the way down here? «Based on current coordinates, ahead is the Sohm's Abyssal Plain. Approximate average depth: 17,000 feet.»
Silence drifts between you for a moment. «Can I…?»
«Negative. Mistress will be crushed long before she reaches the bottom.»
Good to know.
Of course, now you have to deal with the tiny little problem that all the rest of the pieces of Storm's ship are farther that way where it's impossible reach them. This is your one big find, and you had better make the most of it.
Floating off the edge, you circle the piece of rubble and see that the end sticking out over the abyssal plain has a wide opening, presumably where it was torn from the rest of the ship. The floors are canted at an angle, lending credence to your assumption that it was damaged during entry. Choosing the biggest opening, you conjure a couple of Flare Shooters for light and head inside.
To your immense relief, you don't find a bunch of bodies waiting for you. You had serious doubts there would be any here, especially with that gaping hole, but you just couldn't shake the worry that somehow you'd walk into a scene out of a horror movie. The lack of corpses doesn't mean your exploration is all sunshine and rainbows, though. Somewhere between hitting the atmosphere, the surface of the water, and the rocky seafloor, the interior had been cracked and warped, and you have to twist carefully around the strips of metal flooring and inner walls that now criss-cross the space. «Would the computer be in the front of the ship?» you ask.
«Layout of ship is unknown.»
Right, of course. That's the whole reason you're here in the first place, because Perfect Storm's memory is so corrupted that it doesn't know where it comes from or even what its real name is. How would it know where anything is in this ship, even if it had spent its entire existence on this one spaceship?
Thinking about it, you hope for Perfect Storm's sake that it isn't this ship's computer.
You're about fifty feet in when you stop. You don't know what this computer core is supposed to look like if it's even here, and there has to be a better way to find it than just poking around blindly.
«There is,» Perfect Storm announces. You must have been broadcasting again. «Mistress merely needs hold out her hand and call upon her magic.»
Without a better idea of what to do, you do just that. A ribbon of writing appears circling around your right wrist, but this isn't the orange of your magic. It's instead a deep, dark purple, the color of ripe eggplant. While you stare, casting triangles of the same color spin into existence, and they fire cables of some kind into the nearby wall. A couple of lights reveal themselves by flickering on and off, and most of the cables pull out just long enough for you to see the forked ends before they stab into new and more deliberate locations. The flickering increases, spreading all along the ship.
A wave of lethargy sweeps over you and begins dragging you down.
Before you can worry about the risks of passing out underwater, the cables retract and the triangles and ribbon vanish. «Highly mana-intensive device located. It is likely a vital component to run the ship, possibly computational or life support—»
A loud sound, not a boom nor a thump but something in between, can be heard outside the ship, and the entire thing jerks sideways and twists. You grab onto one of the pieces of metal to keep it from swatting you in the face. «What was THAT?!»
«…It is possible that a forward laser cannon discharged due to indiscriminate empowerment while locating this system.»
A laser cannon. Like in the movies. Okay. That makes you wonder just what kind of ship this was, but you set that question to the back of your mind and focus on the red glow your Device is projecting on the ceiling another fifteen or twenty feet down the hallway. You make your way towards it, your progress helped when the ship lurches several feet backwards. «Another laser?»
Perfect Storm doesn't answer, which you take as it not knowing, either, and instead you take a look at the virtual rectangle. «System should be behind this wall,» it says.
Adding even more room for error, you flick a Rust Shooter about half a foot from the edge and nod when the area of destruction doesn't quite make it all the way. That should do the trick. Firing that spell repeatedly, you slowly work your way up one side and almost make it halfway to the next corner when the ship again lurches, sliding backwards and tilting downwards more than either time before.
That wasn't a laser.
You turn yourself slightly so your work area is once more square while you turn this curiosity over in your head. Why would the ship be moving so much? Taking a glance to the side, the obvious answer smacks you in the face as you stare past the thicket of metal at the darker water beyond. «We're perched on the edge of a cliff. Storm, could that laser have broken the rock enough that it's crumbling and we're about to fall off?»
A long moment passes before Perfect Storm starts blaring a warning klaxon, and you move with newfound haste. Rust Shooter is taking too long, and instead you pull out Flare Shooter. These bullets shine white and set the nearby water to boiling in the brief instant between creation and melting the bulkhead.
The ship shifts three or four more times before your impromptu acetylene torches make enough room for you to reach your fingers into the gap and rip the wall away, your lack of strength made up for by your buoyancy and your flight. A cylinder much smaller than the rectangle is revealed, maybe half your height and as big around as your two arms put together. Several more Flare Shooters destroy the braces holding it in place and the wires running from its dozen ports.
You rip it out of the wall just in time for the ship to tilt almost ninety degrees and start falling.
Perfect Storm is shouting something into your head, but you're too preoccupied with getting the hell out of here to listen. More Flare Shooters hit the wall as fast as you can make them. This was the closest section to the top of the ship, right?! If you can melt your way through, you should reach open—
The circle of metal falls away, and you dash out into the ocean with the tube right behind you. The falling ship catches on the end and spins you around and around until you don't know which way is up.
Thankfully, Perfect Storm does. Your flight spell redirects itself, and you rocket backwards and watch the ship fall into the stygian abyss. Then the broken edge of the cliff zooms past you, and a few seconds later, your head breaks the surface of the water.
"I know this means a lot to you," you tell your Device, "and I'm happy to help you out, but let's not do that again."
Perfect Storm beeps consolingly at you.
Whatever this tube thing thing is, it had better be worth the trip. Cradling it to your chest, you sigh with no little relief when your Device paints you a path. Another Flare Shooter, this time to act as light now that the sun is fully gone, and you start skimming through the water to shore, Samantha, and ultimately sleep.
Recursion Field learned.
+1 training to Solar Wrath (4/6 Adept).
Just a thought, but it would be really mean of me to give you what looks like a subquest option but is really an instant kill vote, wouldn't it?
Anyway, now you have… something for PS to play with. How do you want to spend your time next week?
- Picking up the Pieces, Part 2 – Perfect Storm has been analyzing that piece of space wizard technology for a while. Ask for a progress report and offer whatever help you can give if it's needed.
- A Dragon's Hoard – Dragon wants to talk to you about Perfect Storm. Dragon. The only problem is that she wants to talk to you as one Tinker to another, and you aren't a Tinker. This conversation might require a little bit of intense planning and preparation.
- Snark Hunt – According to the bulletin you received, the Fallen are causing trouble where the wall around Brockton Bay is being built. They… probably aren't going to be too much trouble for the PRT agents to hold off, but lend a hand to drive off the Endbringer-worshippers.
- Monstrous Menagerie – Those monsters had to come from somewhere. Have Perfect Storm do some digging, and then investigate where there seems to be the most activity. Maybe you'll get lucky.
- Helping Out the Little Guy – Look for trouble in your new home and stop it. You can write in for someone to come along with you.
- Hanging Out – This is a bit of an experiment. Pick someone to spend time with outside of combat. Write in the who, what, and where.
- Know Thyself – Spend a free period training in the simulator. May be chosen twice. Write-in for which spell to practice.
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Like I said on SB, we need to get Picking up the Pieces and Monstrous Menagerie done. Hopefully the first snip is going to be focused on PutP tho.
If we can figure out what's going on with whatever was in that tube, it might help us when we get to Monster Mash.
If we can figure out what's going on with whatever was in that tube, it might help us when we get to Monster Mash.
somnolentSlumber
(Verified Proofreader)
- Location
- hell
Have we had time to shoot off a quick email to Dragon about our unavailability yet?
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
The motion to do that had less than 50% of voters agreeing to it, so it didn't happen. You've just been ignoring her.
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RoninSword
Sky God
- Location
- Canada
I am thinking of having Storm send us the report, and then going to talk to Dragon.
Trooper1023
Look, sir! Droids!
- Location
- NYC USA
*C-3PO's* How rude!
somnolentSlumber
(Verified Proofreader)
- Location
- hell
yeah, seriously. Dragon's important.
Also, slightly off topic but I tried to find a picture of a witch in a string bikini that Taylor described.
Most of them were extremely NSFW, and a few were leery enough for me to not bother even trying to post it on here.
But they exitst though. I just want everyone to know that.
Most of them were extremely NSFW, and a few were leery enough for me to not bother even trying to post it on here.
But they exitst though. I just want everyone to know that.
Is it possible to strengthen this configuration of the Barrier Jacket such that we could go that deep (or even further)?
Damn. Whatever else may have been in that ship may be forever lost to us now. Well, barring us getting a deep sea submersible or ROV, something along those lines.
Agreed, finishing things we've started in important. All the same though, I am starting to get a feeling that snubbing Dragon for much longer may have some nasty effects down the road. Hm.
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
Not if you want to breathe.
More seriously, Barrier Jackets are not invincibility. They have limits that they physically (magically?) can't overcome, and going that deep is beyond that particular limit.
Fair enough. Just a bit of idle wondering on my part.Not if you want to breathe.
More seriously, Barrier Jackets are not invincibility. They have limits that they physically (magically?) can't overcome, and going that deep is beyond that particular limit.
That's the paranoia that got us last time. So we should send her a reply email at the very least, but otherwise we don't need to involve her just yet.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Ok...
Which means at some point we will have to fend off undersea attacks.
Taylor Hebert in a string bikini.
Hoo boy, potential mod bait and body image issues for the price of one.
Samamtha, stop tempting Murphy to attack Taylor while she's underwater.
Either Taylor's just that bad and is putting energy into everything around her, or the systems on this part of the ship are so badly damaged it's not regulating what's getting what energy and what constitutes activation.
Or an enemy attack?
... oh fuck.
OH FUCK!
Well, time to analyze this thing and hope our rolls were good.
Yes.
The E-mail thingie for a raincheck.
Yes.
Well, I think it's more embarrasment than anything else. PS's upgrades made sure that she doesn't dislike how she looks anymore, after all.
And Sam's teasing didn't help at all.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
You're probably right, sorry. Force of habit. Any sort of description of Taylor Hebert in an outfit that's remotely supposed to be 'sexy', either on SB or SV, I find tends to get the staff's attention in a bad way. It's probably not warranted here, since it's just a single line, and not all that sexual... I think.
That means we need to get some one else to go that deep for us.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
You got any ideas, know any people?
Silently Watches
Professional Stalker
- Location
- Right behind you
And to be fair, Taylor doesn't have anything real to be embarrassed about. Brian is the only time we get an outsider's evaluation of her body, and I believe he deemed her looks to be average. I think we can all attest to seeing average-looking women lounging around in bikinis on the beach.
I would hope not…?