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Shoot First (Worm/Games)

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[X] Test out all of these new gadgets
-[x] Go out and be super!
[X] Dakka. because there's never ennuf of you.
 
Also, I do have random tables for both Surprise! and TTBGs (Tinker-Tech Bullshit Grenades). Look forward to seeing what they are!
 
[X] Test out all of these new gadgets
-[x] Go out and be super!
[X] Dakka. because there's never ennuf of you.
 
[X] Shitpost on forums and go to sleep.
Because you are clearly on something someone had put into your last drink,

[Y] Shooter Guy
[X] Dakka. because there's never ennuf of you.
 
[X] Test out all of these new gadgets
-[x] Go out and be super!
[X] Dakka. because there's never ennuf of you.

Side note, are we pre- or post- Bakuda's debut? Because it occurs to me that if we're post-, someone is likely to make the connection if we use the TTBGs too much.
 
@CaesriusPolybius: I will say we're post-debut, because that's going to cause more trouble for TMG. Also, Bakuda and TTBG in a face-off sounds fun.
 
[X] Go out and be super!
[] Lord Volde....
I mean
[X]The Punishment (cos Punisher was kinda copyrighted and you remember there's an idiot called 'The Situation')
 
[X] Go mug some muggers and other criminals- you need the money and you need the money fast.
[X] Jack-in-a-Box.(Cause Surprise!)
 
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    • Test out all of these new gadgets – 11 Votes
    Dakka. Because there's never enough of you – 9 Votes

    TTBG Roll: 10
    Surprise! Roll: 1

    You briefly consider whether you've been drugged. It seems perfectly reasonable; you're seeing some truly weird shit, and what's more likely, that you have superpowers, or that you're on some acid trip?

    Superpowers.

    You aren't helping.

    You decide to roll with it anyway, because why the hell not. You've only ever done pot before; drugs are for rich kids, but you aren't going to say no if someone passes you a joint at a party. Even so, this doesn't feel like a drug, or too much to drink, or a vivid dream. It feels too real.

    You look out the window. It's morning, the sky covered in fluffy white cloud, casting the city into a dull grey pallor. It's also cold as balls out, given that it's February. Brockton my be warmer than average for the north-east USA, but it's still on the north-east coast.

    You throw on a cheap, third-hand hoodie, slip on a pair of 'well-loved' jeans, and wrap a scarf around your neck. You figure out how to hide your weapons easily enough; you just mentally 'select' the same one twice, and you hands are empty.

    You were distracted by your new powers a moment ago, but it's cold enough inside that your breath is fogging. That's not unusual; this place has such bad insulation it's frequently colder inside than it is out, and you haven't been able to afford to heat it. Ever.

    At least the constant threat of supervillains keeps the property prices low. You still have to live in the Docks district, where there's a hooker on every corner and a drug dealer in every alley, but the one-room studio box is the cheapest part of your whole stay here. Food bills cost you more.

    You're pretty sure the building is legally condemned.

    Whatever. You jog down the stairs, hopping the missing one on the third flight from long habit, and push out into the chilly streets. You decide to head to the ship graveyard; no-one goes there but capes wanting to practise their new powers. Or break things.

    Seriously, it's a thing. You can just about see it from your window, and you've lost count of the number of times you've been woken up by strangely-coloured flashes and explosions coming from the place.

    It's abandoned when you get there, luckily. Most capes only come out at night. They probably have day jobs, or school, or something equally banal. You push your scarf up to cover your face a little, but you aren't too worried about being spotted.

    First things first. You select the shockgun, feeling its solid mass fill your hands, and point it experimentally. It doesn't seem like it's much of a precision weapon. There are no sights, and the flared bell at the end would make them nearly pointless even if they were present.

    Well. You pull the trigger, and, with a thundercrack that pushes you back a step, the barrel erupts with a cone of lightning, the bright flash blinding you momentarily.

    When you've managed to blink away the spots, you see that the ship hull you had it pointed towards is...

    Completely undamaged. Wait, no, there's a little bit of soot. It was only about thirty feet away, to boot; that cone should have hit a big chunk of the rusting metal. Maybe it works better on dirt?

    Another thunderclap, although you close your eyes just before pulling the trigger this time. The wet sand is steaming in an elongated oval where the lightning hit, but... Yeah.

    It's a stun flamethrower. Neat.

    The little green bar that fills the 'ammo' section of your HUD has gone down a little. There's an empty one above it. You hold down the trigger, this time, and watch as it fills, the ammo bar below it draining slowly.

    This time you're blown clean off your feet.

    Fucking ow. Well, full power...

    There's a big crater. A handful of damp sand lands on your head.

    Awesome.

    You don't know where the fuck you're going to find ammo for this thing, but it's great.

    The electro-glove is much less awesome. You can't get it to have any noticeable effect, although it does emit a faint hum when you press it to things.

    You reluctantly equip the Thing. It pulses wetly in your hand, little tentacles furling around your fingers like a lover's caress. Or like a hand full of baby squid. You can feel it ticking, too, as the gears you can see through the translucent patches on it turn, quite possibly driven by a heart of some sort.

    It has a trigger, at least, and when you pull it there's a sound between a wet, hacking cough and an explosive sneeze. The little ammo bar, this time five spheres with legs, ticks down one, although the outline of the spidersphere immediately begins to slowly fill back up again.

    And a little glass ball the size of a marble plops wetly to the sand at your feet. It's transparent, and full of some sort of organ-meat. Little spindly legs unfold from the ball, and it scuttles off towards the hull you had it aimed towards.

    Once it gets close – within a foot or so – it explodes into a green cloud that immediately starts sizzling, eating through whatever it touches.

    Oh, boy. There's a little dial – wait, it's an eyeball – on the side of the gun, and when you turn it, the little spidersphere indicators change colour. You fire on each of the three other settings. The first makes a flying sphere that just rams right into the target, shattering as it hits and leaving behind some sort of clear residue. The second setting burrows under the sand, and explodes underneath your target. The third heads for the target and erupts into a purple mist, this time. One which doesn't burn anything, or explode, or anything unusual.

    Time to try out the grenades. You only have five, so you're only going to throw the one.

    You pull the ringpull, with a sound like a well-shaken soda being opened, and lob the grenade towards the now-damaged ship hull you've been practising against. It bounces off and plops onto the sand, then explodes with an oddly distorted wail.

    Nothing's happening. It made a noise, and now nothing's happening. You switch back to the Thing, and fire a flying projectile at the area it blew up in. No way are you getting close to something called 'Tinker-Tech Bullshit'. As the little fly-spider-marble gets close, it goes slower and slower, until it's like it's passing through treacle.

    Time grenade!

    After all of that, you suspect that your 'spell' – hah! Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic. Despite all the bullshit capes do that breaks the laws of physics. Or biology. Or chemistry.

    Or mundane laws, for that matter.

    Anyway you suspect that your 'spell' will be underwhelming.

    You, uh...

    Select it in your quickbar. It's the one with the exclamation point surrounded by an explosion.

    Thanks. You select it in your quickbar, feeling something drain out of you, and then...

    Ah, fuck.

    You fall into the sky, screaming.

    Five seconds later, you fall back down, still screaming, and land chest-first on a rusty metal spike.

    Fucking ow.

    But it doesn't impair you. It doesn't-

    Why the fuck does your chest not have a massive hole in it now?

    How the fuck did you just roll off that spike.

    You might want to take cover for a few seconds so you can heal.

    You're in too much pain to argue, so you put your back to the nearest chest-high...

    Huh. The ship graveyard really does look like a videogame level. Also, the pain is fading quickly.

    You were too busy screaming and flailing to notice, but there appear to be a large number of raggedly-dressed men and women approaching. Most of them seem to have a gun of some sort – why they wouldn't sell the guns to buy food or something, you don't know.

    You're a little concerned that your power might be making things worse.

    Off in the distance, you hear gunfire and explosions.

    Slightly nearer, you hear the siren call of your bedroom.

    What do you do?

    [ ] Fight the approaching horde.
    [ ] Go see what's up with all that noise.
    [ ] Fuck this, go home and see about signing up for the Protectorate.
     
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