Let It Happen Edition
>https://youtu.be/pFptt7Cargc
Intro:
>http://pastebin.com/cUuQQ6mp
Primary Cast:
>http://pastebin.com/GwrT5QVg
Character Sheet:
>http://pastebin.com/2gx5bYkw
Rules:
>http://pastebin.com/iJZVBT94
Lore:
>http://pastebin.com/gGMy1KsG
Tumblr containing additional lore:
>simmonsqm.tumblr.com
Bestiary (partially complete):
>http://pastebin.com/Tm0XG59k
Askfm:
>ask.fm/qmsimmons
Twitter:
@QMsimmons
Threads are archived here:
>http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=exterminator+quest
Recap:
Previously you found out that your boss had lost a massive bet on the underground mech battling circuit. Seeing him faced with the prospect of having his balls cut off by an angry Russian, you decided to cheer him up with booze and cocaine. He then accompanied you on your final assignment for him: clearing out a snake infestation from a Noah’s Ark themed amusement park beneath the Tsing Ma Bridge. On arrival you found that the “snakes” were actually overgrown centipedes and were nearly ensnared by large sessile creatues living in the trashfilled pools outside the Ark itself.
Inside the Ark you discovered abandoned creationist exhibits that seemed to contain operational surveillance equipment as well as more centipedes, this time outfitted with electronic devices that seemed to control their movements. They chased you into the second floor food court, where you fortified your position and prepared a trap while attempting to decide whether to escape or delve deeper into this obviously still inhabited theme park.
The trap succeeded beautifully but set the ark alight. Instead of escaping, you chose to descend deeper into the secret facilities beneath the theme park and try to find the mastermind behind the rigged ‘pedes.
Currently, you are standing in a fabrication room that has filled with gas.
Loadout:
>Tranquilizer gun (51 shots)
>Dual Chinese Specs (Silenced, cartons of ammo)
>Bag of Taser Grids
>1 smoke grenade
>soldering iron
>Screwdriver
>bottle of adhesive.
>thermal goggles
>body armor and helmet
>gas mask
>illegal “Illegal” cell phone
Devlinson’s Loadout:
>wrangling stick
>fire-axe
>hand held taser
>two frag grenades
>hazmat suit
You search for the cause of the gas leaking into the room but you can only conclude that it seems to be coming from, well, everywhere. There are small vents placed seemingly everywhere in this room, perhaps to ensure circulation of and harmful fumes the fabrication process may produce.
If that’s the case, maybe you can find a way to get them to clear the room of the gas instead of recirculating it over and over? Or maybe even channel it elsewhere…
There are seven “mouse” drones in the corner, switched off at the moment. You know you can control them with the illegal but they are extremely primitive, with no onboard cameras. They can only follow pre-existing routes to the “command center”, “hatchery”, and “waste disposal”. You’re not sure how useful that is.
Last, you have access to the manufacturing panel for the fabricators set up around you. They seem designed to create electronics, hardly “universal” as you might have hoped but not surprising for a dedicated facility like this. You could always try and build something to help yourself using the pre-programmed blueprints.
>try and use the illegal to access vent controls
>modify the drones somehow
>activate a drone and give it directions with the illegal
>access manufacturing panel, try and make something
>head back into the hallways
>write-in
>>44448250
>>access manufacturing panel, try and make something
>>44448408
Make what is the question.
A camera?
A remote microphone?
A saw to cut down the door?
>>44448408
>>44448611
There are a limited number of blueprints here but some are quite valuable. You immediately import them to your illegal before deciding where to start.
>Available Blueprints:
>Fabricator
>Mouse Drone
>Control Box
>Assembly Bot (contains sub instructions for welding/cutting tool, "crusher" tool)
>Prostheses (these designs are very clunky and all use too much metal... the results would be heavy and inconvenient but better than nothing in a pinch)
>Cameras
>Wireless Router
>Silverware
>Some basic tools, presumably for maintenance
Each of these blueprints could potentially be helpful but it will require some skill if you want to change them. Additionally, some require ingredients that aren't present: the supply of ceramic and plastic is minimal, so building a new fabricator or prothesis is impossible.
>Use some combination or derivation from the blueprints to make something here (write-in)
>check out the drones
>try and access vent controls
>head back into hallway
>write-in
>>44448228
>try and access vent controls
>Use some combination or derivation from the blueprints to make something here (write-in)
Assembly bot's cutting and crushing tools are usable as Koolaid-Guy-ing Tools, right?
And can combine camera+wireless router and hide those into a new mousebot or three.
...And what even is IN a Control Box that makes centipedes obey radio signals.
>>44448748
>what's in the control box
>https://youtu.be/63qwg7EBxbM
Closest I can give you to an answer.
>kool-aid tools
Yup.
>>44448808
Well, like.
Do the individual control boxes contain cameras?
Is he sending the remaining swarm around blind up there with the cameras stuck on a loop?
Assuming all the centipedes seen on first floor are equipped with boxes, he's scrambling to find these intruders.
He'd have no way of knowing they made it into the secret sub basement... since Vince already controlled all his surveillance equipment.
>>44448748
>try and access vent controls
You play with the Illegal again, trying to find a way to access the vents. Your phone is aware of the networks around you but it's having trouble accessing them reliably. Until you can establish a reliable connection, you won't be able to hack in.
You still have no signal.
Turning your attention to the manufacturing panel, you decide to start by printing some things that will allow you to penetrate the walls around here...
>Give me three rolls of 3d6 for an intelligence check! Two passing rolls and you've got it.
Rolled 6, 6, 3 = 15 (3d6)
>>44448917
So we just need to print a wireless router.
>>44448915
>do the control boxes contain cameras
Nope. One could be mounted on a 'pede in addition to the box but there's little point for someone who already has the premises staked out with cameras. So many additional vid feeds would be difficult to manage anyway.
>>44448659
Well that was a stupid misreply. >>44448748
Rolled 1, 6, 3 = 10 (3d6)
>>44448917
SMRT
I mean smart
Rolled 1, 6, 1 = 8 (3d6)
>>44448917
Thank you Catholic Satan
>>44448228
>>illegal “Illegal” cell phone
>>44448950
>>44448986
>>44449011
>15,10,8
You carefully remodel the assembly bot to detach one of its arms and create a version that you or Devlinson could tote around easily. Devlinson himself gives you tips throughout the process and, 35 minutes later, when the final product is finally done cooling, you try to turn it on.
Nothing.
"Crap."
Devlinson frowns.
"We've been in here a while, Vince. Whomever runs this place probably knows we're in here by now."
"Just wait." you say, drawing up the blueprints for a router.
"I only need a little more time."
>roll 3d6+2 awareness
Rolled 5, 5, 3 + 2 = 15 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449092
ai yo
Rolled 2, 5, 6 + 2 = 15 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449092
So much for getting something fast.
>>44449091
>Kojimawritesdialogueforacomic.jpg
Rolled 1, 3, 2 + 2 = 8 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449092
Eat my router, ambush.
>>44449143
A Kojima Productions production: A Kojima Story: Kojimas return: The Kojima Sequel
>>44449115
>>44449132
>>44449177
>15,15, 8
Devlinson goes and chucks the failed tool into the recycling feed for the fabricators.
"Dust to dust-"
Watching him, you pick up the slightest... tapping noise coming from the forced open doorway. Turning away from him and the panel you spot one of the giant 'pedes slithering through the opening with disturbing fluidity. The gas doesn't seem to bother it.
The two of you lock eyes or at least come as close as you can to doing so with a compound eyed insect. It freezes in place.
>open fire
>shout for Devlinson
>ready a taser grid for when it gets closer
>approach cautiously
>write-in
>>44449271
Might the taser ignite the gases?
Actually, bullets too.
>shout for Devlinson
We will intimidate you, we are the alpha centipedes here
>>44449353
>shout for Devlinson
You yell for Devlinson who abruptly turns around, seemingly still jumpy from his earlier coke high.
"What's going on?"
"There's a 'pede in here!"
"Where?"
It's a good question. The sound of your voice caused the centipede to shoot off underneath the machinery. You can still hear the faint clicking of its movements but it's difficult to locate exactly where it is now.
>approach the machinery with Devlinson, try and get it to come out
>get out of here before it attacks you
>ignore it, print your router, then leave as fast as you can
>try making noise to get it to come out
>write-in
>>44449446
>>try making noise to get it to come out
Skittish, unlike the thing from outside.
>>44449446
>>approach the machinery with Devlinson, try and get it to come out
>>44449507
>>44449549
"It's under the machines, I'm not sure exactly where"
"Egh, that's no good. Want me to stand by the door with the axe while you sort it out?"
"No, stay close for the moment."
Getting down on your hands and knees, you give the floor a few good taps with the butt of the gun in your right hand.
You can see something moving down there, if only as disconcerting flutters in the darkness. It seems to respond to your tapping with agitation.
>have Devlinson shine his haz-mat light down there
>shoot at the shadows
>try making a hissing noise instead
>tell Devlinson to ready something
>write-in
>>44449592
>>try making a hissing noise insteadGained trait: Parselmouth
Don't tell me Animal Handler is applicable here.
>>44449592
>>try making a hissing noise instead
Vince has thermal vision for penetrating the shadows anyway.
>>44449678
>thermal vision
Not while wearing your gasmask.
>>44449621
You start hissing at the centipede. Centipedes like hissing, right?
Maybe they're like cats, with that "pst, pst" crap.
Actually, you really hope thy're not like cats at all...
>roll 3d6+2 for charisma (+1 from animal handler and +1 from cold-blooded)
Rolled 1, 4, 5 + 2 = 12 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449698
Centipedes don't care about Cyrano noses and messed up ears, right?
Rolled 6, 3, 6 + 2 = 17 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449698
So in a way, scaring it off first was better than approaching it cautiously, giving the Cold-Blooded bonus.
Unless the DC rose.
Rolled 4, 2, 1 + 2 = 9 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449698
To boost or not to boost.
>>44449718
Fuck it, boost.
>>44449718
Your nose resembles a bird beak. The centipede has a primordial fear of it.
It also thinks your ear is just unsexy.Just arbitrarily sticking to the sheet on this one.
>>44449784
>>44449718
>>44449741
>>44449762
>12,17,9
>no charisma boosts available
The centipede is intrigued by the noise you make by forcing air through your face hole. A many legged shape becomes discernible as it approaches you, trying to evaluate you as friend or foe.
"Dev, it's coming toward us."
He readies his wrangling stick.
>have Dev try and restrain it with his wrangling stick
>have Dev attack it with his axe
>attempt to befriend it without weapons
>>44449828
>attempt to befriend it without weapons
>>44449828
>>attempt to befriend it without weapons
>>44449828
Not listed: being food.
I see the real reason why the centipede outside attacked Devlinson now. It was friends with that poor innocent needlefly! Too pure, too good for this world.
>>44449860
>>44449875
You know judging by its brothers upstairs, someday this 'pede is going to be...
big.
Like Clifford big.
Logically violates the square cube law big.
>>44449828
>>attempt to befriend it without weapons
>>44449860
>>44449875
>attempt to befriend it without weapons
"Dev, stop. I've got a feeling about this."
"A feeling?"
"Yeah, hold off with the stick unless it attacks."
"If you say so."
The 'pede crawls closer and closer, long segmented antennae waving wildly as it navigates the bolted down supports holding the machines in place.
Finally, it emerges. Both you and Dev take two instinctual steps backwards and the centipede rears up until it's about half your height. The long antennae extend towards you, trying to suss out what your intentions really are...
>roll another 3d6+2 charisma regardless of choice
>reach out and stroke the antennae
>reach out and tightly grab both antennae
>let it touch you with them as it pleases
>Just hiss with increasing intensity to show your dominance
>Other (write-in)
>>44449929
Heh.
>>44449955
The square cube law is probably the only thing restricting its possible size actually. I just figured that since pedes are long, they could become extraordinarily large by distributing their mass longitudinally across their segments. But that is a discussion for later.
Rolled 1, 6, 5 + 2 = 14 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449991
>Just hiss with increasing intensity to show your dominance
>>44449991
>>Just hiss with increasing intensity to show your dominance
Rolled 6, 6, 2 + 2 = 16 (3d6 + 2)
>>44450090
Damnit phone don't eat my dice!!
Rolled 2, 1, 2 + 2 = 7 (3d6 + 2)
>>44449991
Well it worked so far, why change course now.
>>44450072
>>44450122
'Pede whisperer Vince?
>>44450224
Apparently.
>>44450145
>>44450122
>>44450072
>>44450090
>14,16,7
You double down on a functional strategy and begin hissing even more loudly as the centipede brushes your face with its antennae. Tiny hairs on the segments scratch against your skin; the experience is like being rubbed with a tentacle coated in velcro.
Finally, the 'pede draws back. You're going red in the face from hissing so hard and Devlinson looks unsure whether or not to be horrified or amused by this whole exchange. The centipede too seems confused, drawing back and then circumnavigating your body.
You feel it crawl up your leg and each of its legs punch through your pants and embed themselves lightly in your skin. The further it climbs, the more legs are stabbing you over and over. The pain is awful. It takes a great deal of focus to continue hissing.
>Health [9/11]
>Nerves [10/13]
The centipede wraps itself around your torso, an area that is thankfully protected by your body armor, and then climbs your back. You feel the antennae scraping the back of your helmet... and then an odd weight.
You finally run out of breath and stop hissing.
"Dev," you whisper, "what is it doing?"
"It's just laying on your head, Vince. Want me to try and grab it?"
>have him grab the 'pede with his wrangling stick
>tell him to carefully get a trank dart from your bag and prepare to stab the 'pede
>try walking around like this
>hiss inquisitively
>write-in
>>44450332
>>hiss inquisitively
>>44450332
>>hiss inquisitively
Hiss hisssss his his?
>>44450332
>>have him grab the 'pede with his wrangling stick
Hahahhahahaha. My sides have been launched!!
>>44450370
>>44450378
>>44450360
>hiss inquisitively
"Hold on."
Hisss hish hish?
The 'pedes long antennae wave in response before your eyes. This seems to be less agitation and more like lazy acknowledgement.
You try moving around and the 'pede waves at you some more but doesn't seem particularly disturbed.
"I think it's... comfortable?"
"Sure looks that way. I'm going to stand a little further away from here on though.."
You approach the manufacturing panel again and give the command to print a router. It occurs to you that you could also print a control box and use it to manipulate this 'pede if you wanted to...
>print control box
>play with drones while you wait for router to finish
>just wait for router to finish and access the vent controls
>print something else
>write-in
>>44450539
>>play with drones while you wait for router to finish
>>44450539
>>play with drones while you wait for router to finish
All these wonderful toys.
>>44450699
And a giant, carapaced, leg-stabbing puppy.
It really is Xmas.
>>44450573
>play with drones
Navigating your arm around your entangled new friend, you reach down and pull out your Illegal.
"Take this." you tell Dev.
He does, but at a careful distance. You can feel the 'pede move slightly in order to track him from its vantage point on your head.
"We can activate the mouse drones using that. While we have LOS, they're basically little RC cars. Otherwise, we have to rely on the preset paths."
"Uh, neat-o. What exactly do I-"
You spend the next 15 minutes painstakingly walking Devlinson through how to drive the drones via phone but the signal impairment makes a practical lesson impossible.
Finally, the router finishes and you're able to boost your signal enough that controlling the drones remotely becomes viable.
"Alright, so just-"
Before you can finish, Dev has already taken control of one of the drones and is driving it around the room. You feel the 'pede suddenly move on your head, tracking the motion.
"Uh, Dev hold-"
In a flash, the 'pede has let go of you and given chase to the tiny rodent-like drone. Dev starts laughing and taking evasive maneuvers but he can't maintain his lead for long. The 'pede catches the bot between its mandibles and immediately begins dismembering it, scything through thin metal and plastic with ease.
It seems very happy for the moment.
With the 'pede and Dev both contented, you take a screwdriver to one of the mouse drones and get a better grip on how it works. It's pretty simple design-wise and appears more than open to potential attachments, assuming you make room on the chassis for them.
>DC for printing modified mouse drones lowered
>print something else
>do something with the remaining 5 mouse drones
>head into the hallways
>write-in
>>44450845
>>print something else
A camera for a mouse drone?
And wait, you can use router to hack the vents now right.
>>44450726
Saw a fat kid get a drone stuck on his neighbor's roof while walking down my street on Christmas Eve.
It made me wish Norman Rockwell had lived into the 21st century.
>>44450935
>hack vents
Of course. You'll still have to do an intel check for that however.
>>44450845
Print dat modified camera mousebot
>>44450989
>an intel check
>>44450935
>>44451015
>print something else
>camera-mouse drone
With your newfound knowledge, you decide to print a new mouse-drone with a built-in camera. You're unsure if this is superior to just printing the camera and gluing it to the top of the drone with your adhesive but at least this design is much more compact and less likely to attract attention (it looks like a regular mousebot overall).
>Make three rolls of 3d6, no modifiers or boosts. DC is quite low and success will lower difficulty of printing other subtypes of mouse drones.
Rolled 2, 6, 6 = 14 (3d6)
>>44451074
Finally an end to failure.
Rolled 5, 3, 5 = 13 (3d6)
>44451138
Rolled 2, 5, 2 = 9 (3d6)
>>44451074
>>44451138
>>44451157
>14,13
You pass but it might be to your benefit to make a final roll.
>>44451276
...But we did.
Are you getting the alzheimers again.
>>44451138
>>44451157
>>44451159
>14,13,9
>That last roll took a long time to show relative to the others...
In the end, it's not all that difficult for you to design the camera into the mousebot. In fact, it's almost plug and play.
You take a little extra time to make the mousebot almost entirely impossible to differentiate from it's non-camera wielding comrades and then start printing it.
The ETA for bot completion is initially 20 minutes but some skillful whittling down of the design not only makes the bot nimbler but cuts printing time down to 10 minutes.
>try to take this time to access the vents
>design something else for printing
>spend some more time with your 'pede
>write-in
>>44451346
>try to take this time to access the vents
>>spend some more time with your 'pede
Far better than a cat.
>>44451346
>spend some more time with your 'pede
>>44451411
Note to self, buy some light kevlar leggings.
And maybe armor that's lighter than this stuff.
>>44451346
>>try to take this time to access the vents
>>44451411
>>44451394
>>44451440
>>44451446
>more or less a tie but I'm going to say vents first
You get your phone back from Devlinson, who seems disappointed about not getting to drive around another drone.
The router isn't able to completely overwhelm the jamming but it's enough to get you a stable connection with the surrounding systems. The task now is hacking through the controls...
You skip over "Chainsaw" this time and choose something called "Icepick". This seems much more like a hacking program than that game...
>roll 3d6
Rolled 3, 3, 2 = 8 (3d6)
>>44451576
>seems
Work, American-model brain!
Rolled 1, 2, 3 = 6 (3d6)
>>44451576
Ice in summer?
Rolled 5, 1, 1 = 7 (3d6)
>>44451576
>>44451611
>>44451657
>>44451666
Worst. Script kiddie. Ever.
I miss the guessing game method already.
>>44451666
>>44451657
>>44451611
>8,6,7
You attempt to hack the vent system but are quickly tripped up by lines of indecipherable code and end up triggering a built in alarm system.
Klaxons echo throughout the room. If your enemy thought the gas had finished you earlier, they now know otherwise...
Up above you heard the Ark collapsing, presumably from the fire you started. You wonder if the Scyth's Fire division will find their way to this lair or not... or if they'll even bother to look for it. After all, it's entirely plausible that the fees on this property haven't been paid in a very long time...
Your pet 'pede raises its head and seems agitated. Devlinson cringes.
>get out of this room
>stand your ground against whatever comes
>>44451775
>>get out of this room
Welp.
Time to see if master planner is still here.
>>44451775
>>get out of this room
Alart
>>44451833
>get out of the room
A rasping Chinese voice overrides the klaxons after a moment, addressing you.
<Intruders! Most unappreciated guests and hated destroyers of my personal property! Know now that you will perish here one way or another. My security force is enroute to dispose of you! There is no escape now!>
The klaxons then continue to whine, diminished.
“Nice of him to tell us he’s coming.” says Devlinson.
“Fuck. We need to leave this room; there’s no exits, we’re fucked if that security force arrives.”
You leave the mouse bots behind, including your unfinished camera bot. At least you got the blueprints, you tell yourself.
>head down central hallway
>head down the hallway you tried to open up before, see if you can force it
>take elevator upstairs
Rolled 4, 5, 2 = 11 (3d6)
>>44451952
>>head down the hallway you tried to open up before, see if you can force it
Burn it, Ralphie.
>>44451952
Waste disposal is down central hallway, so if that's not just an incinerator you could escape through it like in Star Wars...
But, the big boss is probably to the left if he hasn't escaped already.
>>44451952
>“Nice of him to tell us he’s coming.” says Devlinson.
Almost as if he was trying to trick you with reverse psychology into taking the elevator to escape, up to where many centipedes are!
>>44452024
I don't think I mentioned where those locations were, but you can certainly make informed guesses. Also left or right doesn't really mean much to me here: from the direction you're returning from, the "central" hall is on your right, elevator on your left, and the hall with the door you failed to open is straight forward.
>>44451980
>head down the hall you tried first
>>44452024
>possibly also voting for going left?
Calling it for left hallway.
Rolled 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 4, 2, 6, 5 = 42 (9d6)
>>44452214
>>44451980
>>44452024
You grab the router and hiss at your 'pede in passing to get it to follow you.
The three of you pass through the broken door to the fabricators and re-enter the hallways. You sprint in the direction of the area you tried to break into before but quickly turn around as you see the door open on its own to reveal massive incubators that seem to be flushing their charges all at once; hundreds upon hundreds of 'pedes, juveniles that are still as long as your arm, are charging towards you.
>run to the elevator!
>run down the central hallway!
>roll 3d6+1 for either option, speed check, boost with STR/STA
I'll roll for Devlinson. He has a -1 modifier on these rolls that I'll subtract sperately but he can boost twice like you.
>>44452366
Dev rolls:
>12,15,12
He boosts once.
Rolled 6, 2, 1 + 1 = 10 (3d6 + 1)
>>44452366
>run down the central hallway!
Oh my. That was the hatchery all along?
Well we might be able to toss a frag grenade before we turn the corner as cover.
>>44452366
>>run down the central hallway!
Rolled 2, 2, 3 + 1 = 8 (3d6 + 1)
>>44452366
Boosto.
Rolled 2, 3, 3 + 1 = 9 (3d6 + 1)
>>44452478
God fucking damnit!!! Stop eating my dice phone!!
>>44452366
>Rolled 4, 4, 5, 6, 6, 4, 2, 6, 5 = 42 (9d6)
>42 out of 54
These are murderous rolls.
>>44452513
>>44452500
>>44452499
>>44452478
>>44452472
>10, 8, 9
Boosto once or twice?
0 for no boost
1 for single boost
2 for double boost
>>44452513
We gonna die.
>>44452616
Can you list out STA remaining every time boost is an option to remind people?
This may be the last time we can afford to boost today. We can't boost every time things are dire, and it can always get direr.
>>44452676
>STR/STA [8/12]
Double boosting will consume 4 points.
>>44452618
>>44452648
>>44452656
Calling it for double boost.
>12, 10, 11
>narrow success
You make a little jumpshot gesture at Devlinson and he catches on quickly, unhooking a grenade and tossing it deep into the hatchery.
You don't see the explosion, as you've already turned to run when it goes off, but the shock wave nearly causes you to trip and fall.
Sprinting in this body armor isn't easy and by the time you reach the security door at the end of the central corridor, you're almost through.
>STR/STA - [3/12]- You have one last desperate burst of strength left.
There does seem to be a chute built into the wall beside you you could flee down, but the chinese letters above read "Waste Disposal".
>Urge Devlinson to crack that door NOW
>leap into the waste disposal
>write-in
>>44452868
>>Urge Devlinson to crack that door NOW
>>44452868
Vince needs to buy some emergency meal bars to eat on the go later.
>>44452868
>Urge Devlinson to crack that door NOW
>>write-in
Hiss conspiratorially.
>>44452910
>>44453075
>>44452977
>Urge Devlinson to crack the door NOW
"Get that shit open! We've got to get out of here!"
You feel like shit, huffing and puffing and asking an old man to save your life but this is what it's come to. Do or die.
Devlinson is stoic for his part and lodges the axe in the doors crevice right away.
You hiss that you should be avenged to your 'pede as it circles your exhausted form.
>Make three rolls of 3d6, no negative modifier as this isn't cardio. Dev still has the energy to boost twice but he'll be depleted after that. Good luck.
Rolled 1, 6, 2 = 9 (3d6)
>>44453122
Devlin-sempai, I...
Rolled 2, 5, 1 = 8 (3d6)
>>44452408
Dev had all the luck it seems already.
>>44453122
If we're going down the Chinaman is going down with us.
Rolled 5, 2, 2 = 9 (3d6)
>>44453122
Down we go.
Rolled 3, 1, 2 = 6 (3d6)
>>44453122
>>44453357
Defying all odds, you rolled even WORSE than the rest of us.
Truly we are plumbing the absolute depths of probability.
>>44453160
>>44453203
>>44453275
>>44453275
>>44453357
>9,8,9
>Devlinson boosts twice
>11,10,11
"Ar... ARGH!"
Devlinson sounds like he's in pain as he exerts himself. Something pops, and you're not sure if it's in him or the door. His face is pale; he's giving it everything he's got and it's still not causing any visible budging of the door.
"Vince... kid... you gotta get in the chute before they get here."
>get in the chute
>spend your last boosts worth of STR/STA to act as a +1 modifier to Dev's rolls, helping him.
>Write-In, try and come up with something to stop the oncoming wave of 'pedes.
>>44453398
>get in the chute
Dammit Dev you're coming too.
>>44453398
>spend your last boosts worth of STR/STA to act as a +1 modifier to Dev's rolls, helping him.
This is worse than cats.
>>44453398
>>get in the chute
>>44453398
>Write-In, try and come up with something to stop the oncoming wave of 'pedes.
Wait, don't we have insect poison from upstairs?>>44448228
Wher e is it.
>>44448228
>>44345712
>In the closet itself, you also find some very old but still extremely toxic bottles of liquid Insectodeath, which you add to your inventory along with your 3 remaining Molotovs.
Wait fuck. Can't we use these on the bastards.
>>44453398
>>Write-In, try and come up with something to stop the oncoming wave of 'pedes.
Fire?
If we just toss the molotovs as far down the hall away from us as possible.
Fire got us into this mess, only fire can get us out.
>>44453499
>>44453546
>>44453567
Gonna allow a little extra window time, as this is a pretty big decision.
>>44453584
>>44453604
The Insect-o-Death is possibility here, and yes, I forgot to stick it in the inventory.
>>44453632
Molotovs are also a possibility.
There's also at least one "ideal" solution which I did not list.
So the current roster of options that can be chosen:
>get in the chute
>help devlinson
>deploy insectodeath
>deploy molotov
>write-in
>>44453398
>>Write-In
Hiss like we've never hissed before
>>44453662
>There's also at least one "ideal" solution which I did not list.
It isn't hissing dominantly, is it?
>>44453662
How fast-acting is insectodeath.
It's not something anons would know.
>>44453704
>how fast acting
Very. But it creates toxic fumes which might reach your new pet.
>>44453662
Is it the smoke grenade?
Smoke makes bees sleepy, but these are not bees.
>>44453757
>is it the smoke grenade
>is it hissing
No, it's somewhat more complex
That said, I'm trying to decide how to interpret this mishmash of votes, since the write-ins are very valid options that I probably should have inserted in the first place.
>>44453792
We.
We may need a moment.
Calling the mousebots from the factory is no good...
...oh. except that centipedes like to CHASE THEM.
>>44453829
Well, you can all take your time here. I'm going to refill on coffee and think about what/how I'm going to run later this week (considering a possible saturday thread, I'm locked down for NYE).
>>44453829
So set mousebot destination to 'hatchery'?
They haven't rounded the corner to the central hallway yet have they? There's been no description of actually seeing any centipedes since the explosion.
>>44453891
Yeah I was wondering why you said Thursday the 31st on Twitter.
>>44453662
>>write-in
>deploy mice
They're like cats but less evil.
>>44453499
>>44453567
>get in the chute
>>44453546
>spend your last boost on helping Dev
>>44453584
>>44453604
>insectodeath
>>44453632
>kill it with molotovs
>>44453669
>hiss loudly
>>44454054
>deploy mice
If I count now, it's a tie between insectodeath and getting in the chute. Given the spread of the votes, that hardly seems representative. Plus, I'm not sure if some comments are just banter or votes.
SO. Going to hold a quick re-vote. Put your preference in GREEN and roll 3d6 regardless.
Even if 3d6 has already been rolled 3 times, roll with your vote anyway.
Rolled 3, 1, 4 = 8 (3d6)
>>44454133
>deploy mice
We have insectodeath as an emergency backup plan if all else fails. Sorry new pet.
Rolled 6, 4, 5 = 15 (3d6)
>>44454133
>deploy mice
Current head pet is bigger than the juveniles?
What was he doing loose like this and why is he so much more social? Living in the garbage chute? The master's pet?
Rolled 6, 1, 6 = 13 (3d6)
>>44454133
>deploy mice
>>44454133
Say, was the camera-mousebot's assembly automated and would it be finished by now.
>>44454268
>>44454220
>>44454174
>deploy mice
With the signal boosted by your router, you're able to summon the mouse drones from the fabricator room. You send them towards the hatchery, the only real option you have that doesn't lead the 'pedes directly to you.
It works, sort of. When you see the stream of pedes catch sight of the drones before coming your way, you abruptly reverse their direction back to the fabricator room and the vast body of 'pedes follows them.
About a dozen, apparently suffering from tunnel vision, continue towards you.
You open fire, picking off a few from a distance but the survivors close with you and your 'pede.
Behind you, Devlinson continues to struggle with the door and you can hear the metal creak. If you can hold out, he might just be able to get it open.
"Vince, why aren't you getting in the chute?!"
"Shut up and hand me that wrangling stick! We're gonna make it!"
>You've succesfully put off imminent death. Roll 3d6+3 (awareness bonus plus wrangling stick bonus) for holding out in combat against fast moving bugs. Your 'pede will assist.
>Boost with Nerves up to two times [10/13] currently
Rolled 2, 5, 1 + 3 = 11 (3d6 + 3)
>>44454486
Praise Jesus.
Rolled 1, 5, 2 + 3 = 11 (3d6 + 3)
>>44454486
A half dozen 'pedes? We eat them for breakfast.
Seriously though Vince needs a source of protein soon and bugs are rich in it
Rolled 1, 5, 6 + 3 = 15 (3d6 + 3)
>>44454486
Rolled 2, 4, 5 + 3 = 14 (3d6 + 3)
>>44454486
Assistance lowers DC?
Boost once I suppose.
>>44454486
>put off
Ah the high risk path. We Hollywood now.
>>44454486
Did Dev leave a stabby trank dart in the stick?
Good thing Vine didn't do horrible brain surgery on the new pet and left it autonomous.
It can fight to defend you without requiring micromanagement via remote control. Passive defense instead of a remote minion.
>>44454627
>>44454584
>>44454560
>>44454641
>11,11,15
>DC lowered by assistance
>success
It's been a while since you really used one of these but the instincts come flooding back as your grip your wrangling stick again.
You glance from 'pede to 'pede, tracking each one, estimaing their arrival time until you figure out which one will reach you first. When it's in reach, you snare it and hurl it into the wall, hard. As it struggles to get back on its feet, your own 'pede pounces and severs the juvenile's head from its body in a single bite.
You snatch another and swing it into one of it's comrades. The razor sharp legs swung at high speed make it function as a kind of flail and both 'pedes are impaled upon one another in places. Again, your 'pede prevides the coup de grace but follows by pouncing on a third enemy, this one being larger than the others. They wrestle for a moment before your ally gets the upper hand and shreds the belly of his foe.
The last 'pede confronts you alone and you almost feel pity as you swat him to the side and follow up with a snare, crushing his head beneath your boot.
There's a metal clanking and suddenly the door behind you gives, Devlinson's efforts having finally succeeded.
"Come on!"
The three of you hustle through the gap and then you and Dev close the door as best you can.
You're standing in a hallway you recognize from the hacked video feed you saw in the cafeteria. It leads into a dark chamber in which you know resides a throne of some sort but this time the screens seem to be out.
<Come no further!> cries a voice in the darkness.
<It will be your own doom!>
>go further
>stay where you are
>>44454896
>You snatch another and swing it into one of it's comrades. The razor sharp legs swung at high speed make it function as a kind of flail and both 'pedes are impaled upon one another in places.
So fucking metal.
Uhhh
>stay where you are
>writein
Ask, how the fuck would you know.
And dare we switch from gasmask to thermal vision?
>>44454973
Yes, I'll have him do that here. There's no gas present.
>>44454896
>a throne of some sort
I recall. Inb4 it's a wheelchair
>>44454896
><It will be your own doom!>
See I knew it was Chinese Ron Paul bunkered up down here. Called it.
>go further
>>44455064
>>44454973
>>44455150
With the door shut behind you and the omnipresent hiss of gas now noticeably absent, you yank off your gas mask.
The air is stale but just feeling it run across your skin again is pleasant.
<I'm warning you! One more step from any of you and you'll be blown to bits! I've layered this place with devious traps.>
Devlinson glances over at you, and you share an instant's eye-contact.
"Mhm."
You pull out your thermal goggles.
<What are you doing? What are those?>
Everything around you is cold, except for the small warm humanoid in the dead center of the room ahead of you. It seems to be turned in your direction.
<Put that device down or I'll kill you myself! I am the prophet of the new world, chosen by God to propagate a worthy successor race to the feeble men who rule now!>
"Sure."
You've assembled your trank gun while he was talking.
>roll 3d6+3 to hit, boost up to twice with nerves
Rolled 5, 1, 4 + 3 = 13 (3d6 + 3)
>>44455290
haha what
Rolled 1, 2, 3 + 3 = 9 (3d6 + 3)
>>44455290
A mad dwarf deep underground. He is taken by a fey mood.
Haha how the fuck are we getting out of this place.
Hoping that when the juveniles swarmed the factory, they fucked it up enough that hot molten metal went everywhere and killed them all?
Rolled 3, 3, 5 + 3 = 14 (3d6 + 3)
>>44455290
Good old tranky.
Someday we'll get triple snake eyes rolling for you.
>>44455290
>assembled
I didn't realize we had taken it apart for transport.
>>44455405
>>44455357
>>44455347
>>44455502
It's not easy shooting with the goggles on but then, it's not a hard shot either. There's no wind down here and he's pretty much straight ahead of you.
You fire into the darkness and he shuts up, which you take as suggestive of a hit. It's confirmed when hi body temperature lowers visibly on the thermal goggles.
"Did you get him?"
"Pretty sure..."
>advance through the hallway, investigate the room ahead
>search hallway for the promised traps
Imagine storming this place WITHOUT Devlinson.
He was a useful extra body on the job. He carried extra frag grenades, acted as a flashlight with the hazmat suit, and brought the fireaxe we used to open the security doors, and was opening the door while Vince fended off the 'pedes.
He was also bait for that first wild centipede up there.
>>44455584
>>search hallway for the promised traps
>>44455611
Dev a best partner.
>>44455584
>>advance through the hallway, investigate the room ahead
>>44455584
>advance through the hallway, investigate the room ahead
Need to get movin'. I refuse to think this guy was exactly "smart" if his plan was to stand right in front of the intruders.
>>44455624
He could probably be replaced with a mobile robot coatrack.
>>44455664
What the fuck else was he supposed to do? Dead end.
>>44455584
>search hallway for the promised traps
He might actually be stupid enough to make traps. Explosive too.
>>44455584
>>search hallway for the promised traps
>>44455675
Anything. Literally anything else. Hide, ambush, just something.
>>44455680
Explosives with detonators that give off no heat signatures?
>>44455748
He is a tiny baby dwarf man who believed his inner sanctum impenetrable and has no need for weapons in here when he has living weapons out there.
And there isn't really anywhere to hide.
Bluffing and intimidation was the only recourse.
>>44455664
Sup Lost.
>>44455680
>>44455649
>>44455624
>>44455737
>Search hallway
You decide that advancing with caution is the best policy here. Scanning the walls with thermal imaging reveals nothing obvious, so you make sure and go over every inch as you advance with your eyes...
>roll 3d6+4, awareness.
Rolled 6, 5, 5 + 4 = 20 (3d6 + 4)
>>44455788
Rolled 3, 5, 5 + 4 = 17 (3d6 + 4)
>>44455788
Not much.
>>44455810
OH SHIT
>>44455753
water and pretty much any alkali metal with a wire trigger separating them. completely undetectable by thermal.
>>44455820
Yeah too bad I can't roll like that in your quest eh? Maybe then things wouldn't have shit the bed as bad.
Rolled 5, 4, 6 + 4 = 19 (3d6 + 4)
>>44455788
rollan
>>44455810
>>44455820
>>44455859
Christ.
>>44455854
Meh, could have been much worse.
Oh NOW the dice cooperate.
When there's probably no danger at all.
>>44455810
>>44455820
>20,17,19
You scour every inch of metal paneling, every button, and every LED bulb that's gone out in this hallway. You and Devlinson move deliberately, operating on the same wavelength of exhausted caution.
Suddenly, your new pet runs ahead of both of you.
"Mr. 'Pede-body, no!"
You cringe as you imagine the tripwires crossed and pressure plates triggered but nothing happens. Mr. 'Pede-body arrives peacefully in the chamber ahead of you and with your thermal goggles, you see him wrestle off one the madman's slippers and shake it around wildly before slithering away to gnaw on it in a corner.
"Mr. 'Pede-body?"
"It's a WIP, Dev. A WIP."
In the chamber itself, you find no obviously light switches but Devlinson suggests that maybe the owner operated all of this from his "throne". That guess turns out to be correct and, after some fiddling, you manage to get the place lit up and the screens turned on.
Most of the vid feeds are nothing but static now, having been destroyed by the fire but there are a few of the outer premises that show Scyth fire crews showing up to douse the flames, no doubt hired by the nearby bridge owners, same as you.
The "madman" is a geriatric chinese man with a misshapen face. His forearms and lower legs are all prosthetic but the dilapidation of his torso and muscles, as well as his stench, suggests he hasn't risen from this chair in a long time. Indeed, most of his bodily functions seem to be attended to by the throne itself.
Further evidence that this man was too far gone to escape you presents itself in an obvious evacuation route: a ladder with a large "EMERGENCY EXIT" sign posted next to it in chinese. He probably knew he couldn't climb the damn thing in time.
>search the crazy bastard
>kill him
>see if there's a way to bring the 'pedes back to the hatchery in all these controls
>write-in
>>44456091
>>see if there's a way to bring the 'pedes back to the hatchery in all these controls
It's the Emprah!
>>44456091
>>search the crazy bastard
cavity search time
>>44456091
>search the crazy bastard
I wanted to name our 'pede Pikachu.
>>44456193
That's a shit uncreative name, even 'Pede-body is better.
Even Mr. Pointy would be better.
>>44456193
>>44456174
>>44456142
>search the crazy bastard
"Is that really the name you're thinking of going with though? Really?"
"If you've got a better one, feel free to let me know."
The old man doesn't have much on him in terms of... anything. There's no identification, no cash, no real anything except for a small Bible, full of scribbled revisions.
"Jesus. No money or anything? What did he eat?"
A pile of hollowed out carapaces underneath the nearest console answers your question.
"Maybe... maybe they taste like shrimp?"
You don't dignify that with a reply.
Without any clues to who this man is, you don't have much reason to keep him alive and in your exhausted state, it's doubtful you and Devlinson could carry him out right now...
You put the lack of youth in Asia out of your mind for the moment though, and turn your attention to accomplishing the task you were sent here to do. Extermination.
Examining the controls, you find a section dedicated to the Hatchery. There are still many 'pedes left in there according to this readout and many more scattered through the hallways and in the fabrication room. You need a way to take care of them all at once...
>slam the "deploy live food" button in the hatchery several times
>unlock the fabricators, send the command to build something
>see if there's a way to access the ventilation in all the rooms outside the control center
>write-in
>>44456398
What about the 'pedes upstairs still?
>>44345552
>maybe you can look down into the mastermind's stronghold. This too is ineffectual but it does reveal that the first floor is crowded by 'pede signatures, frantically swarming over one another.
Are they conveniently remote controlled?
>slam the "deploy live food" button in the hatchery several times
>>44456398
>>slam the "deploy live food" button in the hatchery several times
How does he capture the live food--oh right he remote controls them to hunt out there to feed the babies.
>>44456505
>'pedes upstairs
There is no more upstairs, so your job is half-done.
Speaking out of narrative here, the 'pede swarms were controlled by the old man pointing on the screens where he wanted them to go and some custome software figured out what that meant in terms of pathfinding for the 'pedes themselves.
Basically, he was attacking you by playing Starcraft game.
>>44456598
>There is no more upstairs
...why are there no more upstairs?
Did the first floor get crushed?
>>44456398
>unlock the fabricators, send the command to build something
Mousebots with a slurry of aluminium dust and iron oxide in a oil medium hooked up to some sprinklers.
One mousebot filled with Magnesium shavings and a blowtorch
We're going to melt this entire underground to slag.
>>44456700
Jesus anon we're not trying to make a hole to the center of earth
>>44456700
Ah, fire anon. We meet again.
>>44456622
Things are about 80% burnt down. Remember that there was a bunch of flammable crap on the second floor that you used to start this in the first place to act as an accelerant and there was probably more throughout this building. Firefighters *just* showed up and you heard collapsing noises from upstairs earlier.
>>44456505
>>44456584
>slam the deploy live food button several times
You repeatedly push the button before finally deciding just to hold it down. A video feed of the hatchery shows dozens of young muta-rats being deployed within, which are immediately swarmed by nearby 'pedes and ripped to bloody shreds. They struggle nobly, which only attracts more attention. 'Pedes begin to flow in from the hallways in large numbers but not large enough to represent the entire exodus that was unleashed on you earlier...
>head back out into hallway, get as close as you can before tossing molotovs or insectodeath
>try this godforsaken suggestion >>44456700
>try and go for the ventilation system
>write-in
>>44456700
YES, seconded.
>>44456742
>try this godforsaken suggestion >>44456700
I love it. This is an abomination that I wish to see happen. We should probably GTFO though.
>>44456742
>>try and go for the ventilation system
>>44456904
The only way I can explain this is either your copy-pasta became a wayward post or you constructed a spam bot capable of circumventing that captcha that bombs /tg/ threads at random.
Either way, comically out of place.
>>44456793
>>44456700
>>44456813
>>44456741
>>44456739
>>44456700
Reading through, I think it's fairly obvious that there's only one route to take here.
Writing.
>>44456742
>write-in
Make some tasers. Taser some juveniles.
The rest, blowtorch with the godforsaken methods of the old gods.
>>44457002
Eh, It's a spam, report and move on.
>>44457002
Somewhat more relaxed, you plan your systematic destruction of this "lair" using its own facilities. You modify the mousebot blueprints to create a fleet of "sprayer" bots that spread a mix of the ingredients for thermite and oil everywhere and a single "spark" bot to set it all off when the time is right.
As the machines begin mass-production, you slave most of the functions of the computer here to your illegal.
You'll have to clear the premises before you trigger the explosion.
>kill the old man now
>leave him here
>try to carry him up the ladder
>>44457102
>kill the old man now
Nah, we don't need to doom him to a horrible death.
>>44457102
>>leave him here
Give him the trank antidote on your way out.
Welcome to hell you crazy bastard.
>>44457102
Can one of the bots tazer a juvenile and drag it here for Devlin to carry?
They can survive tasering right.
>>44457102
>>leave him here
>>44457176
Oh yes we do.
Thus always to apocalypse cults.
>>44457102
Well, be sure and let Mr. Pede-body keep the slipper at least. needs a toy.
>>44457102
>kill the old man now
Well he is a loose end.
Is it burn o'clock already?
>>44457209
A bit late for that, but it's possible you might be able to find another one around somewhere. There are obviously wild ones around, so it's not like this guy had the only ones ever.
>>44457176
>>44457186
>>44457233
>>44457348
>leave him here
You detach the old man's prosthetics before dragging him out of his chair and propping him against the closed door that you and Devlinson struggled to open earlier.
Administering the trank antidote wakes him up instantly and he seems disorientated.
<What's going on? Why am I on the floor?>
Devlinson laughs somewhere behind you, hearing the man's fearful tone.
<It's over old man, you're done. I don't know what kind of sick fantasy you were trying to fulfill by breeding an army of remote-control centipedes underneath an empty theme park but it's over.>
<It's never over! Do you know who I am?! I could destroy you with a phonecall!>
<You don't even know who I am.>
You walk away, leaving him ranting and raving by himself, flailing his nubs.
Mr. 'Pede-body looks up at you expectantly, the old maniac's mauled slipper held in his forcipules. You take it from him and tuck it in your bag.
Hiss hiss. Time to go.
You turn to Devlinson.
"Up the ladder, boss. Ladies and geriatrics first."
He grunts but complies, climbing the ladder stiffly. The day's action has obviously taken a toll on him.
When he's halfway up, you follow. 'Pede-body clings to your back.
When the three of you are all sitting on the shore together outside, you trigger the reaction. There's a few seconds delay and then the ground rumbles. The hidden exit on the outer perimeter of the theme park erupts, cast fragments of molten fire and metal into the air like a volcanic eruption. The ground under the Ark shifts and sinks a few feet, collapsing in on itself as foundational supports melt.
>>44457493
I love the smell of fresh thermite in the morning.
>>44457493
"Who do you think that guy was anyway?" asks Devlinson.
"I've got no clue and I don't care, boss."
"Fair enough."
'Pede-body is already rustling through the grass nearby, stalking something.
"So what now?"
"Well, this is usually the part where I go back to GEC and file a debrief with you but you're already here so...."
>lets get some food, it's getting 'round "linner" time
>lets get some booze
>lets go cruise for a bit, see if we can't solve your other problems
>lets go back to GEC
>write-in
>>44457579
>lets get some food, it's getting 'round "linner" time maybe grab a beer or two
then
>lets go cruise for a bit, see if we can't solve your other problems
>>44457579
>lets get some food, it's getting 'round "linner" time
>>44457579
>>lets get some food, it's getting 'round "linner" time
Wizard needs food badly.
Replenish Dev's STR/STA.
>>44457579
I kind of want to see the report the firefighters had to file.
>>44457608
>>44457612
>>44457629
'Pede-body interrupts your train of thought by emerging from the grass with a clearly distressed turtle held in his mandiples and forcipules.
He flips it over on the sand near you and buries his head inside it.
"...lets get some food. It's about dinner time, right? Maybe a little early but we both missed lunch."
"Unless you count a powdered lunch, yeah. That sounds good, kid. Real good."
Together you all limp back to the van. The firefighters are long gone, having vanished before you even set the thermite off once their primary task of preventing the fire from damaging the nearby bridge and buildings was complete. They didn't even hang around for an inspection...
>write-in a type of restaurant and roll 1d100 for how quality their food is. I'll take the best of 3.
Rolled 39 (1d100)
>>44457736
decision paralysis
Rolled 14 (1d100)
>>44457736
Drive around the older areas and look for where the locals eat. Best fucking advice to eating abroad anyone ever gave me.
Rolled 6 (1d100)
>>44457736
>Seafood
Speculation on centipede meat made me hungry for shrimp
>>44457793
>>44457812
>>44457815
>best roll is a 39 and you chose seafood
Someone get the Ron Paul guy back here. Writing.
>>44457840
>>best roll is a 39 and you chose seafood
oh boy
>>44457815
The worst seafood.
Probably literally serving you centipedes.
>>44457840
>implying i ever leave
>>44457862
All the better, now we get to know for sure.
>>44457840
You get into the van and tell the onboard to computer to pick a local restaurant at random. Then, as the cocaine withdrawal shifts into high gear, you and devlinson both take a nap. ‘Pede-body, sensing the mood, coils up in Devlinson’s lap. His legs completely ruin your haz-mat suit with punctures but you’re too tired to really woory about it right now. You close your eyes…
>Coke withdrawal takes effect!
>-2 to max nerves
>Nerves restored by sleep
>Current Nerves [11/11]
>Withdrawal effects will dissapate with more sleep.
You wake up with a throbbing head, like someone is pumping air and blood into your brain, on and off, on and off. Devlinson actually looks a little better than he did this morning but not by much.
“Where are we?”
“Somewhere on Ma Wan Island, I guess”
You look around, trying to see where the van has brought you. Outside your window the street is covered with bits of windblown trash and flanked with archaic cars, all in need of a wash. There’s a restaurant outside too: Foo Kee Seafood. The front window is partly boarded up but they’re open, or so the hastily-written posterboard sign says.
Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by a large cut out of a lobster drawn anime-style wearing a bib. It bids you “welcome” or it would, if you knew how to read Thai.
You end up seating yourselves after ringing for service but eventually an elderly waiter does emerge. He’s not Thai.
<I’ll have whatever’s most thoroughly cooked.>
<Me too.>
<Right away sirs!>
At least with how empty this place is, you don’t have to worry about your privacy.
>ask Devlinson if it was worth it to come out today
>talk to him about his gambling debt
>ask him if he knows anything about the upcoming underground grand prix
>ask him about the old days
>write-in
>>44458109
>>ask Devlinson if it was worth it to come out today
>ask him about the old days
These seem connected.
>>44458109Btw, I wrote the description for this restaurant and named it something else before looking for an image. The location really does have only one star, but it's in the United States (thus the NYC health inspection grade in the window).I just thought it was funny.
>>44458109
that is one step away from Yoo Sic Seafood
>>44458109
>>ask Devlinson if it was worth it to come out today
>>44458109
>>ask Devlinson if it was worth it to come out today
>ask him if he knows anything about the upcoming underground grand prix
>>44458180
O-one Michelin star?
>>44458136
Seconded.
>>44458136
You lean backwards, balancing your seat on two legs.
"I can't believe we forgot to order beers."
"A shame. They're probably the safest thing to consume in here. You think he'll back soon?"
"If he doesn't drop dead in the kitchen. Speaking of old men at work..."
"Oh come on, I'm not that old."
"I dunno, you looked pretty achey climbing that ladder."
"Yeah, well. It's been a while since I was in the field."
There's an awkward pause.
"Thanks for getting the door open."
"It was nothing. Really, if I was still at the top of my game I would have popped that think open like a can of soda."
You chuckle at his lingering bravado.
"The top of your game wasn't *that* long ago, you know. Was it really any different from how it is now?"
"Absolutely. In those early days we had a lot more muta-rat nests to clear and they were big. I mean, the kind of colonies that only get built after human's have abandoned a city for a few years, you know? They didn't have much in specialized equipment for us when I started either. I just got handed a wrangling stick and a leftover rifle from the war and was told "clean this up". They didn't even give you a knife! I had to buy my own."
"Well, I didn't get a knife either..."
"You don't need one as badly! Some of you new punks never even see Tanners."
"I have though..."
"Bah."
Despite your little interruptions, Devlinson seems happy to reminisce and inundates you with stories about wrestling with massive "mother" rats and ganking his way through hordes of tanners while protecting his mouth with nothing more than a rag torn from his own uniform.They're good yarns, and they bring a little light into the eyes of a man that was preparing to leave town this morning.
"So it was worth it coming with me today then?"
"Yes, absolutely."
>>44458419
The waiter finally arrives with your food: you are both served dishes of braised whole fish and a large number of prawns. Your fish has one swollen eyeball, which stares at you pleadingly from the table. You pry the head up just a little to inspect the underside and find that this is also the fishes *only* eye, as the socket on the other side is completely covered by scales.
The shells of the prawns iridesece like radioactive oil slicks.
"Uh, Dev..."
"Wass thah?"
He already has his mouth full of food.
"N-nothing. Did we forget to order the beer again?"
"Ah shih. Go ring the bell in the front or get the bastard from the kitchen if you're so worried."
>forget the beer, just start eating
>excuse yourself to find the waiter and order the beer
>just dig around the corners of the dish a little, maybe mess with the fish meat a little, make it look like you tried
>write-in
>>44458500
>>excuse yourself to find the waiter and order the beer
What horrors might we stumble on. Urge to snoop on mutant restaurant rising
Lopez might enjoy an expose
>>44458500
>write-in
Boss as your employee and I like to think friend I advice you against eating that thing. It's glowing.
>>44458500
>>excuse yourself to find the waiter and order the beer
>write-in
Complain in an imperialist American manner about the food quality and health codes you don't even know.
>>44458586
>>44458602
>>44458638
"Well, Boss I think maybe-"
"Maybe what?"
Devlinson picks up one of the prawns and peels it out of its shell before biting into it. As he chews, his teeth begin to bioluminesce and light up the inside of his mouth.
"Uh. Uh. You're right. I'm just going to go ask about those beers then."
"Soundsh good."
You head in the direction of the kitchen, where you saw the waiter go last. Pushing your way through a curtain, you find yourself in the most claustrophobic cooking space imaginable. Every staple implement of a Chinese restaurant's kitchen is crammed together on one side of the room. Then there is a tiny valley of space, fit for maybe one person to walk through at any given time. Then there is a huge tank of brown-green water. It's murky, but you can see an entire ecosystem of things swimming inside it by silhouette, running the gamut from many tentacled things to many pincered things. Every once in a while an many-finned thing brushes against the surface, showing off dorsals that would make a great white green with envy. A rusty net and harpoon rest against the side of tank.
No sign of the waiter though-
Your thought is interrupted by the flushing of a toilet. The waiter emerges from the bathroom at the end of the kitchen, leaving the door open. Apparently not noticing you, he washes his hands in the tank, pulling a long, flexible parasite off his hand when he takes them back out.
A little muttered curse in Chinese and then he realizes you're actually in here, watching all this. He hefts the harpoon.
<Hey! You got a complaint?>
>No, no complaint. I'll just be going to enjoy my delicious meal now.
>Yeah! You forgot to ask if we needed drinks!
>This kitchen is an abomination! How on earth do you pass your health inspections?!
>Nope, but this tank is pretty neat. Don't suppose I could get a few of these to go... maybe in a doggy tank.
>Write-In
>>44458831
>>Nope, but this tank is pretty neat. Don't suppose I could get a few of these to go... maybe in a doggy tank.
Do not provoke harpoon man.
>>44458831
>Yeah! You forgot to ask if we needed drinks!
what kind of a shitty poison establishment is this if we can't disinfect ourselves on your equally shitty alcohol!
>>44458831
>>Yeah! You forgot to ask if we needed drinks!
But also maybe pet mutant fish that Mr. Pointy will probably eat actually.
>>44458831
>Yeah! You forgot to ask if we needed drinks!
>This tank is pretty neat. Don't suppose I could get a few of these to go... maybe in a doggy tank.
>>44458867
>>44458868
>>44458955
>>44459018
<Yeah I do! You forgot to ask if we wanted drinks!>
The waiter purses his lips then closes them and sets down the harpoon.
<Ah. I'm very sorry then.>
He opens the refrigerator and pulls out two bottles of a beer you don't recognize.
<Would you like these in a bottle or a glass?>
<Bottle.>
<Okay.>
He opens them on the counter in front of you.
<I'll be right out with these, please wait warmly.>
You decide to comply. Maybe wait to ask and see if you can purchase a few specimens when the meal is done now that you've earned the guys trust.
Back outside, Dev's mouth looks like the inside of a nuclear reactor.
"What did he say about the beer?"
"It's coming."
"In the meantime, I've been meaning to ask-"
>Do you know anything about the "Remnant"?
>How do you feel about the situation back "home"?
>Did you see the news report about those crashed VTOLs this past weekend?
>Have you talked to Mrs. Shan lately?
>Write-In
>>44459064
>>Did you see the news report about those crashed VTOLs this past weekend?
>>44459064
>Did you see the news report about those crashed VTOLs this past weekend?
Damn you Simmons we can't stay american if we actually acknoledge the stuff happening around us.
>>44459064
>>Did you see the news report about those crashed VTOLs this past weekend?
Vince didn't look this up in his down time last night or this morning?
>>44459073
>>44459123
>>44459136
"-you didn't happen to see that news report about the crashed VTOLs this weekend, did you?"
"Crashed VTOLS?"
"Yeah, you know. The ones that crashed in Kowloon."
"I think I would have heard about that. I watch the news pretty regularly, you know. Mostly for the cute anchors but..."
"Yeah, I know. It really didn't pop at all though? Not even in the ticker?"
"Not that I recall. Why, where did you hear about it?"
>They fell on my apartment building
>They crashed not far from where I live
>I heard about it from somebody on the street
>I drove past it
>*frantically search on your phone to see if it even showed up in the online news*
>Write-In
>>44459136
>>44198312
>>>43798758
Haha nope
>>44459064
>He opens them on the counter in front of you.
><I'll be right out with these, please wait warmly.>
...he's going to defile your beers.
>>44459173
>>*frantically search on your phone to see if it even showed up in the online news*
Time to get on a watchlist. Use the darknet app Vince.
>>44459173
>They fell on my apartment building
I'd have figured that kind of thing would warrant at least a mention.
>>44459173
>>I drove past it
>>*frantically search on your phone to see if it even showed up in the online news*
>>44459173
>this weekend
Vince.
It was Tuesday.
You'd had sonfu for 24 hours.
>>44459224
I really need to complete that timeline.
In my defense, it was so long ago that we actually had *audio* recaps.
>>44459260
>>43834695
>Also, soundcloud next week. Scout's honor.
>Nov 25
You were never a boy scout were you?
>>44459285
>you were never a boy scout
I was but... y'know... I had to drop out.
>>44459184
>>44459202
>>44459204
"I, uh, drove past it. Would you give me a second? I want to look something up."
"Sure."
You pull out the illegal and do a little googling about VTOLs crashing in your area. Nothing.
That's insane. You heard the authorities coming to respond and everything. Your apartment building got wrecked. There was an investigation. How could this not have made the news at all?
The waiter finally shows up with both your beers, still in their bottles.
"That took a while." says Dev, but he doesn't delay in taking a long drink.
>roll 1d100 for what you're able to uncover by trolling the web even more
Rolled 83 (1d100)
>>44459326
I feel like all this eating out at a restaurant is leading to some breadsticks meme.
>>44459326
To the forums of www.VTOLCrashtruth.com !
The Russkies bought the Scyths we know it.
I was really assuming the whole war front was strictly limited to Europe...
>>44459346
I... is that a meme?
I'm not hip with the memes no more. Totally undank.
Rolled 49 (1d100)
>>44459326
Sorta.
Rolled 51 (1d100)
>>44459326
>>44459326
Save us Deep Web.
>>44459388
>>44459346
I'm, dare I say, triggered?
>>44459346
>>44459388
>>44459404
>83 is best of 3
You continue browsing, hunting for evidence that what you experienced actually happened. amazingly, you find accounts of an explosion in your building but it's attributed to a "gas leak". A cover story apparently.
Tangentially, you find a few news stories on VTOLs, most of them covering a new model that debuted at this years RAE, the annual Russian Arms Expo. It looks identical to the model that raided your home.
Digging deeper, you manage to make your way on to the darkweb, where you actually find a discussion on the raid by eyewitnesses. They all think the raid was an attack by the authorities on one Dau Wushen...
Why does that name sound familiar?
If that's true, maybe the attack on you was a mistake? That seems far-fetched. But the alternative is that the Russians are after you. Why would Russians be after you...
You take a slug of your beer without thinking.
Then another. Those flavors, that smooth refreshment... This beer is amazing.
You check the label again.
>Hēi biānfú
"Hey Dev, is this beer really good or is it just me?"
"No, it's great."
His mouth has been washed clean and his bottle is empty.
"You planning on ordering more?"
>yes
>no
>>44459496
Forgot my pic.
