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**Schazer** · 06-04-2010, 08:06 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Woffles · 06-04-2010, 12:46 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

"Arkal, this is senseless. It's clear you need a new weapon to deal with me." The lime green golem twiddled his thumbs while Arkal desperately tried to form the man into a blade.
Arkal no longer had any idea what to do, or where he ended up. He searched around for something, anything with enough heat to mend the man into a more suitable shape for such a noble material. He let out a few wheezes as he finally gave in. "Okay... Like what?"
"Something with the ability to warm things up. Do the impossible, and make a hammer out of your forge." He smiled and walked away, as Arkal stood puzzling his next move.

He followed the exact same way back as they came, only to see Sikarius pass through the doors again. "No, no, no! Maxwell, what did I just tell you?!"
"Hey, this is the 'Grand Battle' so you'd better be off battling."
"Though I don't like to admit it, the boy is right. He should be off fighting, not talking to a lump of metal! Now, boy, fight him!"
It wasn't much of a fight. Afraid of what Sikarius would do to him if he disobeyed, Mexwell ran at Kracht, arms flapping around everywhere. Kracht quickly dodged and, again, treated Sikarius as a leash.
"Boy, I won't settle for this. Show him what you're made of! This is no treatment for a royal Wyrm!"
"Unnnggg... It hurts."
Kracht flung Maxwell back through the sliding doors, without another word. He kept guard in front of the door, as usual. The timeline was settled for again. He wasn't guarding Jen to stay inside, and it wasn't because she'd attack whatever is of Friend Computer, but he stood there, and she was inside, with Maxwell. They were soon to fight because of Sikarius's anger.

Dragon Fogel · 06-04-2010, 11:55 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

Arkal frowned. "Make a hammer out of my forge?"

He knew what the stone man meant. His forge had lasted for years without needing to be refueled, thanks to a strange stone he had found in his youth. It gave off immense heat, and was invaluable to his smithery. If he could create a weapon from that same stone, it would surely be able to reshape the material of Kracht's body.

But he only had the one stone. And it was a key component of his forge. Without it, he would have to constantly scrounge for fuel as well as materials. And yet - even a small chunk of Kracht's body would allow him to make a weapon stronger than he had even imagined before.

It was a difficult choice for the smith - dismantle the forge which had served him his entire life, or lose the chance for his greatest masterpiece. He was unable to make it for the moment. Leaving the question in the back of his mind, he continued down the corridor. Before long, he spotted Xadrez. The spirit turned its head slightly to acknowledge his arrival, then resumed its normal observations. Arkal soon noticed what had the god's attention - a man struggling with a terminal. After a moment's thought, Arkal realized this was the fellow who had rudely interrupted him during his work.

He then noticed the scythe the Divider had temporarily put aside. This was the first time the smith had gotten a good view of it.

"Excellent craftsmanship," Arkal commented, startling the Rillian. "May I ask the name of its creator?"

Elpie · 06-05-2010, 09:38 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.

Maxwell banged his head on a chair as Kracht tossed him back into the briefing room. "Shit!" he exclaimed, startling Jen back into consciousness.

"Jesus," said Jen, standing up but keeping her distance from the worm. "Ugh. How's that Grand Battle working out for you?"

"Well, you know, I thought I had to do something," answered Maxwell dryly.

Sikarius pulled himself over his head with a crack and a schloop. "'Felt'? What's this past tense, boy? Are you already cowed? Are you going back to sitting on your ass and awaiting further instructions with... with this appetizer? Yes, you!" the Wyrm hissed, turning his mouth towards Jen. "You're, like, five mozzerella sticks and some salsa that I spent eight dollars for because I know my entrée isn't going to arrive for forty-five minutes! How the fuck did you get into this battle anyway?"

Jen shrugged. "Oh, you know how it is. Exploits."

"Exploits?" Maxwell sat down wearily. He was feeling a strange mix of disappointment and despair that ate at his heart like a tumor (and he knew personally what heart-tumors felt like, so don't dare accuse him of hyperbole, dear Reader).

"Yeah. I have exploits. Most of them were exaggerated a bit, but, you know. I could see how the recruiting entities or whatever would get confused."

"Exploits. Jesus. Is there any hope for either of us, Jen?"

"Don't talk to me about hope! And don't talk to her about hope! Come on, boy, let's just take it one round at a time. First, we eat the girl. Then, we worry about the inedible block of metal."

"We... worry? That's unlike you, Sik."

"Don't change the subject!"

"The inedible block of metal?" said Jen quizzically.

"Yeah, it's right outside and it kicked Sik's ass."

"You're the one with the ass, boy! I won't have you heaping blame on me!"

Jen sighed, finding this Lovecraftian remix of the Honeymooners dynamic to be entirely nonthreatening. She returned to the door and it opened to reveal a naked metallic man the color of disease. "Hi," she told it. "I'm Jen and I thought we should talk. You're... Cracked, right?"

GBCE · 06-09-2010, 11:52 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

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Elpie · 06-09-2010, 12:10 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.

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Woffles · 06-09-2010, 02:03 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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Robust Laser · 06-09-2010, 05:54 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by cyber95.

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Woffles · 06-14-2010, 08:10 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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"It's pronounced with a 'ch'. It's a German consonant. Also, you should be getting Friend Computer's briefing soon."
"Not too keen on making friends huh?"
"Jen, don't even bother..."
"Why are you two talking. Friend Computer's 'WAITING FOR SILENCE' light is flickering. Should I accuse you of treason?!"
Neither of the them had an idea of all this terminology, and this horrid complex already was, well, complex. It was best to not fight the case.
Kracht made a barely noticable motion to remain inside when the doors closed, waiting for Friend Computer's message.
"HELLO TROUBLESHOOTERS!"
"Hail Friend Computer!"
Friend Computer idled for the others to repeat that kind troubleshooter's welcome.
"Er, hi."
"H-Hail, Friend Computer."
"Boy, you hail no one but me. You aren't really treating me well ever since we got here. Would you rather like to be dead than undead? I can account for that, you know."
Maxwell didn't respond.
"Friend Computer, what is our mission today?"
"YOU SEEM TO BE A BIT SHORT ON CREW. YOUR TEMPORARY MISSION: GATHER ALL SECTOR GBS TROUBLESHOOTERS."
With that, Friend Computer returned to his routinely business and his glorious reign in Alpha Complex.

**Schazer** · 06-14-2010, 12:22 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

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Weo was finding all this sudden attention irksome as he negotiated the cheerfully unhelpful terminal's interface with clumsy patience. Granted, the chessboard wasn't doing much other than the blatantly obvious act of sizing the Rillian up, but its blank stare was still a touch disconcerting. The terminal gave a disconsolate clunk, but Weo was disappointed to see it was only the request of a less patient former user which had been fulfilled. An unmarked disc slid out, leaving the warrior devoid of rhyme or reason, or god forbid, a map to navigate this warren. After a suspicious glare in a still-motionless Xadrez's direction, and holding the disc to the flickering lights to determine if it was anything less innocuous than a reflective disc, The Divider pocketed it.

"Excellent craftsmanship. May I ask the name of its creator?"

The violet eyes blinked once, glancing to the scythe and back at Arkal. With a shrug that was a delicate balance between warweary nonchalance and begrudging pride, the Rillian rasped, "'ss my own conssruction."

"Impressive," was Arkal's reply. He had a good feeling Weo would be most reluctant to let him examine the weapon closer, so settled for glancing behind the humanoid at Xadrez, who was presently tracing lines with his fingers upon the chessboard in a manner that would've been absent were the spirit not staring dead at them. "Is he..."

The Rillian's explosive sigh indicated he could care less what Xadrez was doing, as snatched up his scythe and stalked past the tactician, who was still engrossed in whatever pattern he was building up under the tracery of his digits. A yell echoed from up the corridor, Xadrez and Arkal turning to see a jet-black humanoid be accosted by a lurid green one.

"Oh, damnit, Weo... Hey. Look. Just... Briefing room's that way. Could you do me a favour, and just..."-the golem seemed more agitated than earlier, Xadrez noticed with interest- "wait there? Please? Damnit, I need to go and find that idiot Keleth, stop this whole iteration from being a complete waste..." Kracht was about to take off down another corridor, when he spotted Arkal and Xadrez. Gesticulating wildly, he yelled down the corridor, "follow Weo! Please! It... Look, it'll just make things a lot less unpleasant for all of us, all right?" Shoving a bemused Rillian in the right direction, Kracht muttered an apology and clanged off down the corridor he was certain Keleth had wandered.

It was a tidy little nook and had Kracht lacked the experience of several repetitions of this messy little iteration, he wouldn't have found Keleth tucked in there as he tried to crack open the capsule to peruse its contents.

"Keleth?" It was more of a formality than a valid question, but god damn this guy could get touchy about manners if the mood struck him. The mineral jerked his head back the way they'd come. "I've got a pretty good idea what's in the capsule, so just come with me to briefing, all right?" Without another word, the mineral tugged the shapeshifter along with a minimum of complaint.

Arkal looked toward the looming humanoid, its features about as readable as mist. Weo had already disappeared round the corner. "What... what on earth was that jabbering material on about? To his surprise, the entity's response was no movement of its body, but a sudden warmth in Arkal's pocket. Pulling out the quartzite dignitary, the smith glanced from player to piece as the voice, unmistakeably Xadrez's, slid into his mind.

The Kracht is in a state which allows multiple iterations of this battle we are in- It was a calm voice, a weighed and doled out voice. Xadrez drifted onward, Arkal pausing to fetch and chain up his forge before jogging to catch up-

From my understanding not all points are fixed- Xadrez turned the corner; the hallway was narrower here. Arkal fell in step behind him, one brawny hand still clutching the chess piece-

But really

I care little for his delusions

If all it takes is a misplaced warrior to set his board askew- The chessmaster's hands drifted over the board as he spoke, with no regard for the cadence of his own voice. The shapeless hunks of Alpha Complex's walls slid in slow arcs round the obsidian-

Then I place little stock in this purported prescience

The duo reached a doorway. Maxwell gave an apathetic little wave of greeting; Jen was too busy appraising the Rillian, who was leaving crimson smudges on the wall he leant against. Xadrez motioned for Arkal to go ahead; the very normal proportions of it suggested it'd be a struggle for Arkal to squeeze through, let alone Xadrez's giant black plate. The spirit raised its head enough to meet Arkal's eyes, and ushered him through while it stood mutely guard at the door, gazing up the corridor for the other three.

Elpie · 06-14-2010, 12:25 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.

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Once the hunk of metal and the skeevy looking guy with the eyes made their way into the briefing room, the alien jutting out of the rock shared a few quick words with the brawny ogre-y guy and shimmied his way through the door, tilting his base at an angle to work his way into the briefing room. I will never get these names right, said Jen. She counted one two three four five six seven which meant that one was still missing, and that this show was guaranteed never to hit the road, ever.

Jen was wrong. As soon as Low-Res dragged his rocky ass into the room, the monitor brrrrzt'd on again and a rather tired-looking eye swept over the battlers.

"GOOD EVENING TROUBLESHOOTER-FUCK. MAYBE IT'S THE POOR DEPTH PERCEPTION THAT COMES WITH BEING ONLY ONE EYE, BUT I'M ONLY COUNTING SEVEN TROUBLESHOOTERS WHEN I SPECIFICALLY INSTRUCTED THAT THERE BE EIGHT PRESENT!"

"I have with me part of the eighth, if that will suffice," said Arkal, holding up the fragment of the Ovoid "I believe that it is watching us through this."

"PART OF IT," sighed Friend Computer. "WELL THAT IS JUST FIVE KINDS OF HELPFUL. ALRIGHT, CLOSE ENOUGH. EVERYONE WHO IS NOT TOO FREAKISHLY MUTATED TO DO SO, TAKE A SEAT."

They sat, with various degrees of discomfort.

"ALRIGHT, TROUBLESHOOTERS AND FRAGMENTS OF TROUBLESHOOTERS ALIKE, " said Friend Computer, "YOUR MISSION TODAY IS ONE OF- VITAL IMPORTANCE? I HAVE TO, UM- WELL, THERE'S A DISTURBANCE IN ONE OF MY SERVERS AND UNFORTUNATELY IT'S LOCATED SOMEWHERE IN THE AREA THAT KNOWS WHAT AND WHERE IT IS AND WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT. WHAT FOLLOWS WON'T BE PRETTY." A sound came from the speakers like a deep breath, and suddenly the eye on the monitor seized up in pain, spouting aqueous and vitreous humor all over the monitor. "WWWWWWWWIDENTIFIED A VIRUS MOMMY IN SECTOR BSV GAAAAAAHURTS SPECIALIZED COMPUTER LABORATORY CONTAINING SEVERAL IMPORTANT SERVERS UUUUNG ISTHISWHATSEXFEELSLIKE REROUTE REROUTE howsthegrandbattlegoing SUCCESSFUL AHEM. SO YEAH. I'M RECOMMENDING THE BRUTE FORCE SOLUTION: BLOW THE SERVERS UP AND ANY USEFUL DATA I LOSE, WORST CASE SCENARIO, MIGHT JUST LEAVE A COUPLE THOUSAND CLONES TO ASPHYXIATE IN THEIR PODS. WE UM I BELIEVE THIS TO BE THE WORK OF A NEW FINCHSPARROWBLACKBIRD IGNORE THAT A NEW SECRET SOCIETY THAT HAS EMERGED CALLED "YES VERSES BORE" AND I CAN'T TELL YOU ANYTHING ABOUT THEM EXCEPT THAT THEIR NAME IS SILLY, HONESTLY, WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN. DOES THAT ALL MAKE SENSE TO YOU?" Kracht and Xadrez nodded. "GREAT! NOW FOR THE FUN PART. ASSIGNING MANDATORY BONUS DUTIES. ISN'T THAT FUN? IT'S SO FUN. AHEM. CLONE WEO!"

"Yes?"

"CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'RE TEAM LEADER. DON'T FUCK IT UP."

"I shan't."

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT. CLONE KRACHT, YOU'RE RECORDING OFFICER."

"Uh-huh. I already have several recordings of this mission stored in my memory. They are..." Kracht glanced over at Jen and Maxwell for a moment. "-Mostly accurate."

"I ADMIRE YOUR INITIATIVE. I THINK. BUT YEAH, WE'LL BE GIVING YOU A CAMERA."

"Whatever you say."

"OH, COME ON, DON'T BE SO DOWN ABOUT THE MOUTH. OOH, THAT'S A NICE SEGUE TO CLONE JEN, YOU ARE HAPPINESS OFFICER!"

"Happiness officer."

"HAPPINESS OFFICER."

"Happiness officer?"

"YES. CLONE MAXWELL. YOU ARE LOYALTY OFFICER."

Maxwell considered this. "Great. So I'm in charge of- loyalty?"

"HA. HA. HA. HA. HA. HAWHAT THE FUCK ELSE WOULD THAT MEAN? I SHOULD ZAP YOU WHERE YOU STAND FOR SUCH FLIPPANCY."

"Why are we listening to this automaton anyway? This is making me both angry and hungry."

"Now now, wormy thing," interjected Jen. "As happiness officer, I'm finding your attitude right now to be highly detrimental to the happiness of the group as a whole."

"You think you're funny, but you're not."

"Excuse me, lass," murmured Arkal, leaning his enormous chin in Jen's direction. "Are you- talking to the worm?"

"Yeah, why, can't you?"

"HEYHEYHEYHEYHEYHEY WHO IS TALKING HERE? CORRECT ANSWER: I AM TALKING. INCORRECT ANSWER: YOU ARE TALKING. EVERYONE RECEIVES A FAILING GRADE, EXCEPT ME. MAYBE I SHOULD ELECT A SHUTTING-THE-HELL-UP OFFICER. BUT NO, NO, I JEST. CLONE KELETH, YOU'RE HYGIENE OFFICER."

"What officer now?"

"CLONE JEN, HOW IS IT THAT YOU CAN HEAR THE WORM SO WELL WHEN IT IS TALKING BUT WHEN I AM TALKING YOU ARE ALWAYS ASKING ME TO REPEAT MYSELF? ANSWER: I DON'T CARE AND I DON'T LIKE YOU. NOW SHUT UP. KELETH, ACCEPT YOUR POSITION QUICKLY NOW."

"I accept my position."

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT! CLONE ARKAL, THAT LEAVES YOU TO BE EQUIPMENT GUY."

"But of course."

"THAT TAKES CARE OF IT. NO JOBS FOR FRAGMENTS, OF COURSE, AND CLONE XADREZ, I WANT YOU TO STAY HERE AND PLAY CHESSLIKE AGAINST ME. THE GAME WILL PREVENT ACCIDENTS BY HELPING ME TAKE MY MIND OFF OF THETHETHETHETHETHETHETHE"

I can spare a moment for a game, said Xadrez.

"GREAT! OFF TO R&D, THE REST OF YOU." As the other troubleshooters wandered out of the room, Friend Computer's eye was replaced by an elaborate three-dimensional board resembling a map of Alpha Complex. "OKAY, I WILL BE FRIEND COMPUTER AND YOU WILL BE THE COMMUNIST MENACES. FRIEND COMPUTER ALWAYS GOES FIRST!" Friend Computer took a few seconds to think, then: "MY MOVE IS AS FOLLOWS: RED TEAM LEADER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR KIN/RED HYGIENE OFFICER TO TEAM LEADER KIN/ORANGE LOYALTY OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR KIN/RED HAPPINESS OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR KIN/RED EQUIPMENT GUY TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR KIN/RED COMMUNICATIONS AND RECORDING OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR KIN/CCCP CRUSADE TO SECTOR GSP/YELLOW TEAM LEADER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN/ORANGE EQUIPMENT GUY TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN/RED HAPPINESS OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN/RED COMMUNICATIONS AND RECORDING OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN/RED HYGIENE OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN/RED LOYALTY OFFICER TO BRIEFING ROOM SECTOR AWN. YOUR MOVE."

Xadres watched the colored lights flash across the screen and took about six seconds to plan his response. Orange pamphleteer to press center sector MAO, Ultraviolet Premieress to computer lab sector LNN, Red Guard to cover all major points of access, proletariat revolution in sector XAD, proletariat revolution in sector REZ, proletariat revolution in sector WIN. Mate in six and I would like to rejoin the rest of the group now.

"WHAT? NO. I, UH- I CASTLE."

That's mate in two now. I should very much like to catch up to my fellow troubleshooters.

The chessboard disappeared and was replaced once more with Friend Computer's eye. "FINE," it said. "BUT YOU KNOW THIS GAME ISN'T FAIR."

Xadrez nodded as he glid over to the door. Yes, he confirmed. Played well, the communists always win.

YES," groaned Friend Computer. "THE COMMUNISTS ALWAYS WIN."

GBCE · 06-14-2010, 03:37 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

Maxwell stumbled out of the room, stretching in a wildly exaggerated manner. He was glad to be out of that cramped room. He followed the rest of the group, purposely staying back so that he may be lost in his own and his parasites thoughts.
"This is ridiculous "Sikarius hissed. "We've been reduced to lackeys! Insolent machine, I will tear it to shreds, along with that blasted Director!"
Maxwell on the other hand wasn't listening to Sik's ramblings, instead choosing to impose himself questions. "What's a loyalty officer do? Where was that"¦circle thing? What did Kracht mean about previous recordi-"
Maxwell's thoughts were prematurely put to halt as Sikarius tore his throat out with its razor sharp teeth. Maxwell stumbled as he sprayed claret across the hallway.
"First off, as loyalty officer, you will remain loyal to ME."
The rest of the group turned round, except for Kratch, who had seen this multiple times before and was frankly bored of the sight. "Trust me. You will get used to that." Each of the contestants had varying degrees of worry on there faces, Maxwell put up a ruby stained hand to signal he was fine.
"Second, do not deign to speak while I am speaking. These are rules we established long ago boy, just because we are in a unique situation does not mean they are forfeit!"
Maxwell gurgled out in a distorted voice, blood pouring from his neck. "I need…that to…breathe."
"Correction: you need that for the illusion of breath."
Maxwell straightened up, he slowly removed his hand from his neck as it healed quickly, he coughed a couple of times to reacquaint himself with his newly regenerated larynx.
"Im fine. Carry on."
And so they did , Xadrez had now caught up with the rest of the group as the headed to what they assumed was the servers. In all honesty it was Kratch who was leading the way. Maxwell once again went to hanging round the back of the group.

GBCE · 06-14-2010, 06:19 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.

The Ovoid appears to be having some trouble. While Kracht labored to set this iteration in order, it had been innocuously thrusting itself on a wall, slowly making its way towards the briefing room door in spurts and stutters. As the door closed, it was still having difficulty navigating the corridor, meandering between walls and running into absolutely everything, leaving smears of red on the surfaces it touched. Now, with the door finally closed, and the newly-assigned troubleshooters on their way to their new assignments, the Ovoid has finally reached the door. It slowly presses itself against the door, sliding around slightly as the pressure increases, and then abruptly stops moving.

Inside, the game between Friend Computer and Xadrez has just completed. Xadrez exits, moving to rejoin the rest of the group. The briefing room is now empty. For a moment.

Shapes swell from nothingness. At least ten have appeared around the room, floating aimlessly, their form unsettled and unsettling. Three of the larger ones float near to the interface from which Friend Computer's voice previously emanated.

"ERRR WHAT. OH GODDAMNIT GET OUT OF HERE STUPID COMMIE HIPPIE LIBERAL MUTANT THING FREAK THING. BE FASTER NEXT TIME. NO WAIT NEVERMIND DON'T BE FASTER BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE HELL YOU ARE OR HOW YOU'D FIT INTO A TROUBLESHOOTER SQUAD. BECAUSE YOU ARE WEIRD."

One of the trio of flowing shapes moves closer to Friend Computer's interface. Its surface ripples. Outside, the Ovoid begins to bang on the door, irregularly.

"NO. JUST NO. YOU'RE WEIRD AND FREAKY AND STUPID AND DUMB AND GODDAMNIT WHY CAN'T YOU SETTLE ON A SHAPE THIS IS SO CONFUSIN-ERRERpenguinswitches MY FACE IS A COCKY STOMACHWHAT ARE YOU DOING CUT THAT OUT MUTANT SCUM OR WHATEVER"

As Friend Computer had been speaking, tendrils of amorphous tan had snaked their way through various electronic components throughout Alpha Complex, slowly disrupting Friend Computer's normal function. In the briefing room, the surface of the three larger shapes ripple violently, as the seven smaller ones behind them shift and dance around the room.

"OK FINE I'M OPENING THE DOOR. DICK. ALSO THIS ISN'T OVER AND STUFF. I'LL BE WATCHING YOU."

The door opens. The Ovoid moves through. The ten floating, shifting shapes shrink back to nothingness. As the Ovoid moves through to follows Xadrez and the others, Friend Computer manages to give off the impression of glaring.

"YOU ARE OFFICIALLY DESIGNATED OFFICER OF THINGS THAT ARE DUMB. LIKE YOU."

The Officer of Things that are Dumb exits, headed off towards the rest of the Troubleshooters, unperturbed by its new rank.

**Schazer** · 06-18-2010, 06:39 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Methinks I'll reserve.

**Schazer** · 06-18-2010, 12:10 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Xadrez nodded, detached and distracted, to a sulky Computer as he slid out of the briefing room and trailed after the departing Troubleshooters. His little game with Friend Computer had given the spirit quite a bit to mull over, and once he was done with that a bit more again to think about why and how he was thinking about what he was thinking about.

If anything, Xadrez was feeling rather more upbeat. He wished, in a none-too-concerned kind of way, that he'd taken a few extra seconds to study the rules better, insightful as they were in their stylised, allegorical fashion into the intricacies of this Complex and its citizens. The spirit understood full well that the game board was a flippantly loose excuse of a floor plan, and he could make the reasonable assumption that real-life Reds did not flee in terror at half speed compared to their higher-ranked compatriots. Still, it explained a lot. For a creature like Xadrez, it explained a dangerous amount. It would've been nice to procure a full set of the rules, to better understand this arena, but from his examination of the (especially Indigo and Violet) movesets, power and privilege came straight from high rank. Just go searching in the right places, places with a better chance of being "right", as per the latest batch of data, and acquire more data. Simple enough, even if execution proved troublesome.

But really, there wasn't all that much to complain about - the tactician had been handed the information he needed to be able to get on with some serious, productive strategising. For this arena, anyway. Still, even if the variables, his foes, were constant throughout this battle, from one battlefield to the next, studying them in this one would be all Xadrez would need. It was one illuminated corner of a nebulous, web-like map that, shrouded in darkness, seemed to extend out forever. But it had been proven now that it certainly had a corner; thus, Xadrez knew it was only a matter of time until he no longer traversed the web but surveyed it, and played its glowing connections on high, reality harmonising to the tones of predicted death.

Xadrez hung back from the pack, watching their interactions while trying to calculate how accurate the game board had been in comparison to the Complex's layout. Really, the only thing that could've improved Xadrez's subtle mood at present would've been the elimination of that irksome, lime-green anomaly.

GBCE · 06-18-2010, 08:09 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by slipsicle.

The Officer of Things that are Dumb has caught up with the group. More specifically, it has caught up with Xadrez. In an action that all those whom had studied it would call "worryingly uncharacteristic", the Ovoid begins to move in circles around Xadrez, bobbing up and down quite rapidly.

It is extremely annoying.

Dragon Fogel · 06-18-2010, 09:31 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

Arkal was silently mulling over the issue of what to do about his forge. He barely paid attention to the rest of the group. Jenn thought he looked unhappy, but she also reasoned that wasn't really her problem, new rank aside. Besides, they hadn't gotten their gear yet.

They entered R&D. A slightly annoyed woman dressed in Yellow glared at them.

"Right, I'm very busy today, so let's keep this quick," she said. "Team Leader, here's your stuff." She thrust a box into Weo's hands. She then did the same with the other five, then paused.

"I've got two more boxes here... one for the, um, Officer of Things That Are Dumb, and another for, uh, the Officer of Good At Stupid Games." She shrugged, then handed both boxes to Weo. "Go pass those along, I guess." Then she suddenly raised her voice and shooed them towards the door. "Now get out! We have other Troubleshooter squads to experiment on - I mean, to outfit!"

Arkal checked the contents of his box as they left; it seemed to contain a backpack with a variety of tools. He'd have to see if any were useful for his smithery.

After a brief pause as everyone else checked their boxes, Weo spoke up.

"Right. Apparently I'm in charge now, even though we're supposed to be killing each other or something, but never mind that. We're heading to this Sector BSV, I guess. Anybody know which it is?"

"I do, Team Leader," Kracht replied. "But I think we should stay here for a moment."

The Rillian stared at the green man. "And why is that?"

"Two reasons. First, the last two members of our Troubleshooter squad are about to arrive." At that moment, Xadrez and the Ovoid floated down the corridor, stopping behind Maxwell. Weo looked at the two of them, then looked at the two excess boxes he had been given before shrugging and putting one on top of Xadrez' chessboard and carefully balancing the other on top of the Ovoid. He turned back to the Recording Officer.

"Fine. They're here. So what's the second reason?"

"The second reason is that we're about to get forcibly recruited by eight different secret societies," Kracht replied patiently. "And it will be easier on us if we're ready for it."

Before Weo could say another word, the lights suddenly went out. The eight found themselves either knocked out or dragged away in the next few seconds.

When Arkal came to, he found a man in a blue jumpsuit smiling at him.

"Welcome to PURGE," the man said. "We have a little job for you."

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Woffles · 06-19-2010, 12:33 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

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GBCE · 06-19-2010, 12:53 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

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Dragon Fogel · 06-19-2010, 01:29 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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GBCE · 06-19-2010, 03:31 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

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Maxwell lazily drew his eyes open. he found himself in a dimly lit room, multi-coloured paint was strewn all across the walls; a thick scent of marijuana permeated the smoke filled air. "Hey I think he's coming too, hey little guy, welcome to, like the Mystics and, stuff." Maxwell attempted to move, but found himself tied to a chair; he looked around his body, unable to find Sikarius, "Wha-? What's going on?" A crowd began gathering round the bound boy, all of them with dazed expressions and glazed eyes, panic began to set into Maxwell "What happening?! Who are you?!"
"Chill dude." One of them said in a contrastingly calm manner, we just figured that, wormy thing, might, y'know, go all "˜bluh' and shit." The other one piped up, a poorly wrapped cigarette dripped from his mouth, "We just want you to do this thing for us."
"Thing?! What thing?"
"No its really simple, like, a baby could do this so, you won't even break a sweat. Y'see, Everyone in this entire complex doesn't understand what we do, and we find that really saddening, it's like, awww." The clearly inebriated man goes into some kind of trance as he trails off, the other continues for him.
"So, we want you to enlighten the complex." He held up a syringe with a luminous liquid inside, "like, put this stuff in the water supplies, and everyone will know what we feel, it'll be awesome."
Maxwell stares at the pair, dumbfounded at there suggestion. "Drug the place? No! I'm not doing that! People could get hurt!"
"Duuude, give him a sample!" The man injects Maxwell with the syringe, the glowing liquid entering his system, He begins shaking violently, in an attempt to break free. "Ahh! No! What is that?! What is thhhaaa…" Maxwell trails off as we simple stares at the past the two men, his pupils impossibly wide. "I-ahh-wow. Err, heh, I never knew colours like that existed, this is… I don't know!" He begins quietly giggling to himself as he views round the room in amazement.
"Excellent man! So you'll do it then kid?"
"Whu-?" Maxwell returns his idiotic gaze towards the Mystics' member. "OH" Yeah man! This stuuuuff... it's like a firework show in my eyes man, everyone should try this stuff! I, err, have a, tiiiny complaint If I'm allowed to say?"
"Oh yeah?" The man said, "I'm always open for constructive feedback, what is it, not string enough?"
"No, no, no, no man, its just, heh heh, that.-"Maxwell's spaced out expression was replaced with one of steely resolve and seriousness.

"It doesn't work on the dead."

Sikarius burst out of Maxwell's stomach, grabbing the stoner's neck and ripping it to shreds. Blood and bile are sprayed all around like a pressure hose. Maxwell rises up, his hands crack into an impossible position to slide out of his bonds. The Mystic members simply stand there, bemused at the death of one of there compatriots.
"Not bad acting, boy." Sikarius finally speaks, moving from the gaping hole in his stomach to his usual place on Maxwell's shoulder. "Perhaps you are not so useless after all!"
"Hey. I promised you some blood." Maxwell raises his arm as a sharp, sword like bone pierced through his wrist, his eyes were unchanging, like one belonging to a murderer. "It's time to make good on that promise."

Outside a gun metal grey door, screams emanate out and into the hollow corridors. Blood poured from the bottom, while smoke escaped from the top. Eventually the cacophony of sound came to an abrupt end, the door slowly swung open. Maxwell calmly walked out, his entire body a complete crimson. He marched down the corridor, a sickening smile strewn across his face.
"My, my. How exaggerated of you"
"But of course. I can't join other teams, i'm the loyalty officer. I need to make a good impression."

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Elpie · 06-19-2010, 09:10 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.

"We're sorry about that."

Jen awoke rather suddenly, a syringe in the back of her neck filling her brain with an uncomfortable stimulant.

Before her was a bemonocled gentleman in a yellow jumpsuit who tapped his foot nervously, making a slight crunching sound upon the small brown rug that decorated the room. The rug had six legs and a flattened head that still glowed slightly over the eye sockets. Jen stretched her foot out and poked it lightly; nothing happened.

The light above was even more insistent than the fluorescent oppression of the rest of the complex; it splashed down upon Jen's face in orange blotches like an artist's interpretation of the sunlight. The chair was rather comfortable, though, or rather would have been if it weren't for the drugs in her veins telling her to get up and punch the police.

ALL of the police. "What's the deal?" she asked her captor.

"I'll cut to the chase. I represent certain interests within Alpha Complex who live in search of a better sector. A sector where a Computer made of fire brings light to infinite gardens. A sector where thousands of miracles and oddities can be found every daycycle. Now, whether this place is outside, inside, above or below, I won't join in on the philographical debates. But according to our equipment, you've been there."

Jen nodded. The initial surge of the drug was subsiding. "I've been outside of everything. But I don't know how to take you there."

"Perish the thought! We know that there are no easy answers, Clone Jen. We also know that your Friend Computer-ordained mission will be bringing you into conflict with the Yes Verses Bore."

"That's the plan." Jen sighed. "I'm really just along for the ride on this one."

"I see. Equipment guy?"

"No, no, not like that. I mean on a larger, sort of, you know... Hey, do you have a sword? I always think better with a sword on hand."

The bemonocled clone nodded and pointed to a box in the back of the room. "We brought your sword with you as well as the rest of your equipment."

Jen rose to her feet and strode across the room to the box, casually pushing the man out of her way. Inside were three bottles of pills and a short sword, with an iron hilt and a blade made of something red and hard to look at.

Jen rose the sword over her head. "It'll do. What do you need me to do with the... the guys?"

"We believe the Yes Verse Bore originated from somewhere Away. Somewhere far enough Away to attract the attention of our organization. We need a troubleshooter in the field to attempt to determine where they came from and, if possible, any route that might lead back there."

"I'll help out if I can, I guess. It's been a long time since anybody came to me with a problem they needed me to solve. Well, aside from the computer. And the Observer guy I guess you could argue. Still, before that I had like a whole week to myself."

"We thank you for your assistance, Clone Jen. It's truly an honor meeting someone who has achieved what we in the Club have only dreamed of."

"And it's a pleasure to meet someone with an interest in fucking up this already fucked-up place. But I should get back to the others."

"Of course. There's a terminal just outside that should provide you with a map back to R&D, and I'm sure you can catch up from there. Before that, however, it's important for the integrity of the mission that the authorities believe you escaped our 'capture' and made off with your loyalties intact. To this end, it's been agreed that you should kill me."

"Kill you?"

He laughed. "I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? My name is Muir|Y|QTM|23, and I'm the Sierra Club's resident liaison and dead man. The organization's leadership provides me with enough extra clones that I can be killed worry-free whenever it is convenient for the club. Believe me, I'm used to it. Go ahead. Use the sword or that explosive projectile device in your bag."

Jen frowned, sticking the sword through her pocket and pulling her handgun out of her purse. "I can't do that, Mr. Muir." She tossed the gun to him. "You'll have to pull the trigger yourself."

He laughed. "Me?" Clone Muir fumbled with the gun and looked up at Jen, his face turning to disgust. "I've never... done it to myself before. That's... quite different."

"Well, this is your profession, isn't it? Maybe you'll learn something from a more hands-on experience."

"Hmm, yes, well when you put it that way." Muir put the gun in his mouth, took a deep breath, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, breathed in, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, took the gun out of his mouth, breathed in, breathed out, put it to his temple, breathed in, shut his eyes, didn't pull the trigger, opened his eyes, and breathed out. "Just, um... I forgot to ask you." A tear snuck its way down his eyelid and was caught on the lower rim of his monocle. "I'll kill me afterwards, it's just that I forgot to ask you what it's like. In the other place."

Jen smiled. "How's this for a deal? I'll tell you what it's like out there if you tell me what you see after you die. I mean, there has to be some delay period, right? Some... reshuffling? Have you... have you noticed anything?"

Muir made a shape with his mouth like a diagram out of a geometry textbook, and then it flattened out into the shape of shame and despair. "There's something," he said lightly, as though confessing a secret fetish. "Something... green that happens to me. And it's very important. But I always forget exactly what it is. Every time."

Jen considered this. Then she groaned, shrugged and turned around. "Well remember it this time, and if we meet again, I'll tell you all about the sun and the trees and the rivers and the dragons and maybe if you're lucky I'll tell you about Christmas too. Until then, I don't owe you shit. I'm out of here, so you should go ahead and die already."

The door closed behind her muffled the BLAM but couldn't entirely silence the sound behind it, a nauseous, grieving wail mixed with an orgasmic cry of anticipation. Jen was disappointed by the exchange, in the end, but a proud and selfish part of her still hoped that she had done the man some good.

**Schazer** · 06-20-2010, 12:10 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Incoming post in a couple of days. Due to sporadic computer availability, this is not a reserve. I repeat, this is not a reserve.

Edit: Lankie, you did good. [img]images/smilies/icon_up.gif[/img]
If I may, I call dibs on Computer Phreaks.
And Wojjie, quit yer complaining. [Image: 2itfq4i.png]

Woffles · 06-20-2010, 08:23 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Wojjan.

Schazer Wrote:And Wojjie, quit yer complaining.

Heh, just had a game. I can deal with it.
Still trying to get a good post out, no reserve yet.

**Schazer** · 06-21-2010, 05:06 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

Xadrez's unsurprising reaction to Kracht was to yank out his knife in preperation to seriously upset anyone who tried to come near him - tactics be damned, nothing set the spirit more on edge than things slipping out of his steely control, worse his own self getting mangled up in the gears of fate. Kracht's ingratiating confidence in the occurence of the event did little to allay Xadrez's discomfort with the situation.

The corridor was plunged into darkness, and Xadrez hissed with frustration as he swung his knife around. There must've been at least one scheming traitor's uniform that was slashed to regulation-flouting pieces under the blade, but the tactician's pale gaze narrowed as a sudden weight intruded upon his board - a human form rustling through Xadrez's equipment. To the chessmaster's consternation, he'd never heard the human approach -a mutant, then - most probably teleportation- but before the knife could swing around and pin the intruder down, the weight vanished with its mutant, and something in the box beeped.

Reasoning his own self-restraint would do little to reduce the anarchy surrouning him, Xadrez impaled the knife in his side again and cautiously extracted a trilling PDC. Turning it over and over in his spectral hands, the tactician pondered for a moment before resolutely pushing a button. Flipping it over to peer at the now-illuminated screen, Xadrez spent a few lightless moments decrypting the cypher the message was written in.

Earlier...
In the more fashionable residential quarters of Sector GLN, an up-and-coming CPU serviceman was somewhat annoyed. Her friend's recent promotion to Violet rank had disrupted the delicate balance of the duo's regular games of Chesslike. Smacking irritably at her keyboard as her opponent deployed yet another Violet unit whose moveset was allgedly "beyond her clearance level, Citizen", Clone Scarm took a reprieve from her sulking to peruse the Complex leaderboard.

"Wait, what?"

It was only for the briefest of moments, but for a second Xadrez had certainly leapt to the top of the leaderboard. Right above Friend Computer, before someone or something hurriedly corrected it.

"No way..." abandoning her game for a moment, Scarm reached under her bed and fiddled with a few loose wires sticking out of the wall, twisting them round various exposed bits of circuitry on her PDC. A cursory glance around the empty apartment, and the Indigo connected.

"Yo, Bill. Remember who reset your clone count after that washout in SCV last monthcycle? Yeah well, she wants a favour. Heh, thought so. Try... Fischer. Uh-huh. Sector BOB. That's the one. Mm, yeah, that's real cute of you, but since Cass got promoted I'd almost cracked it anyway. I appreciate the sentiment though. Alright. Crash you later."

The lights finally came on again, and Xadrez was alone save for a scuffle down the hall as a determined pack of treasonous types tried to drag away one of his more implacable foes. The tactician sighed, and dragged himself to the nearest terminal (as per the instructions in the private message) with the monumental effort of one who knows his actions will have far-reaching and distasteful repercussions.