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Move inside the building. Assist in searching for this "code" that the others were speaking about rather loudly. Perception: 15 + 4 = 19 There's nowhere I can't reach. ![]() ![]() |
Stonum, already more than a little tipsy, blunders directly into what remained of BOBCAT's glass front doors. With the glass entirely redirected into its new home on the ground, the steel frame also abandons its duty in a fit of pique. Issuing a rusty creak not unlike an exasperated sigh. He pokes around, but in his inebriated state he finds no further fuel sources save those obviously lurking within that wagon in the glass box.
Skittles and Doc peer around looking for any codes and immediately run into a snag: the Ancients loved plastering strings of meaningless numbers over practically everything. The surface of each of the wagons is emblazoned with at least 4 potential "codes"; half the pages in the brochure are covered in numerals as well. It might be necessary to narrow the search somehow. Slim just stares at the nearly-pristine wagon in the glass box and frowns. There had been a plastic packet labelled MASTER CODES in the manager's office, but he'd rearranged things quite a bit and wasn't certain offhand where he'd left it. He certainly hadn't ever bothered opening it, since he had no idea who the Master was and frankly didn't care to find out. At length, Slim pulls a shiny coin from his pocket, flips it, and looks vaguely disappointed in the result. At length Skittles does what his people had done since time immemorial: scuttle into places that humans tried to keep them from scuttling into. Granted, some dingy doors hanging ajar were not much of an anti-pest measure but he still feels a tiny swell of ancestral pride. Doc's flashlight beam illuminates two doors about a meter apart from each other, each sporting a bipedal figure wrought entirely in black. One of the tiny black figures has a massive triangular abdomen. A corridor leads to the left, terminating in a dark chamber with the door flung wide. Skittles lacked the excellent night vision of his grandfathers, but it definitely looked like something was moving around in the gloom between a big desk and a row of lockers. Maybe someone should have asked Slim if he lived here alone. Whatever it was, it either hadn't noticed them (implausible at best) or simply didn't care. Most amazing jew boots
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Jul 15, 2012 at 01:26 PM.
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Stealth: 9+8=17 He knew those doors were where ancient opaques rid themselves of their metabolic waste. Fairly inefficient process, that. Better to just continually secrete it out of one's membrane. Instead, Squeeze moves past the doors, searching for any signs of fertility rituals and potentially angry defenders. Perception to check if Squeeze notices the moving figure: 12+3=15 I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? ![]()
Last edited by Stop Sign; Jul 16, 2012 at 01:48 PM.
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Skittles suddenly remembers the pair of night vision goggles he obtained from a travelling salesman a few weeks prior. He'd had to trade an entire case of hair tonic and some moldy saltines, but really, what does a cockroach need with hair tonic? If he ever feels insecure, he can always fashion a toupee out of a patch of Stonum's back hair. Skittles slips the goggles over his eyes and gets a better look at the thing(s) lurking in the dark.
Most amazing jew boots |
As Squeeze sidles past him, Skittles slips on his night-vision goggles to better see the mysterious thing lurking in the office. Amidst the (flung-open, their contents strewn across the room) lockers, the (overturned) desk, and a (tipped over) bookshelf wobbled a gelatinous blob not entirely unlike Squeeze, save that this one had forgone the rudiments of civilization and appeared to be concerned primarily with cramming the entire contents of the office into its undulating bulk. Dozens if not hundreds of Ancient books and documents swam around within its membrane, which had been stretched to perhaps three times Skittles' size. It's bright green, but then everything is bright green with the goggles on.
The voracious blob continues to pay the intruders no mind whatsoever. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
As he staggers into the building, Stonum takes a good long slurp of his new found medecine. Stumbling around ever more loudly, he turns to Squeeze and asks him:
"Whatsa zit like being all squiguegly like llllad? Hass anyone ever tryyed to yooze you for fuel? Like, BUUUUUrn you?" And with that, another sip of the bottle, followed by a somewhat loud thud. FELIPE NO ![]() Juggle dammit
Last edited by i am good at jokes; Jul 19, 2012 at 04:02 PM.
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Slim had been pretty much enthralled with trying to remember anything about a code to the case, and hadn't really noticed anything going on around him. He suddenly jerked his head around, prying his drifting eyes away from the small control panel. He'd heard a loud thump.
"There is a tiny man on the floor." he said, matter-of-factly. "Is... is it glowing?" He wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but his instincts immediately kicked in. He called out for the Doc, in hopes that he could help the small lump of muscle and beard on the floor. What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
Was it worth the trouble to try communicating with it? Squeeze has no idea - certainly, his fellow blob seems to be a little on the wild side. Still, he must try. An unprovoked attack on a fellow slime would be so gauche. At the same time, Squeeze is aware of the danger of being alone in a room with a voracious slime. Yes, well aware. He starts humming and broadcasting messages in every slime lingo he knew. The messages are something like: HELLO JELLY BRO I AM FRIEND JELLY WE NO EAT YOUR FOOD PLENTY OF GOOD FOOD IN ROOM OUTSIDE LOTS OF GLASS AND GAS CONTAINERS MAKE YOU BIGGER COME OUTSIDE SO YOU CAN EAT As Squeeze communicates this message, he backs away slowly, one hidden tendril wrapped around his cowboy boot chain. Interaction: 9+1=10 (+ any bonuses for interacting with slimekind?) Having an interaction bonus of 1 while playing a supposed legendary slime Casanova is going to be interesting ![]() Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]()
Last edited by Stop Sign; Jul 19, 2012 at 01:44 PM.
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"He does this all the time. Always with his 'one for the wagon and one for me' method of refueling vehicles. We really ought not to leave him on fuel detail in the future." Check to see if the master code book is noticeable inside goo-dude. Perception: 10 + 4 = 14 There's nowhere I can't reach. ![]() ![]() |
Of course, slimekind reproduce through mitosis; any liaison Squeeze might have with another slime would not result in offspring but would present a significant risk of absorption. Not that this was any better for Squeeze, of course, and his misapprehension was harmless.
Less harmless was his silly notion that he knew "slime lingo", which he apparently believed was much like standard Merkin dialect save that it sounded as though the speaker had recently undergone elective brain surgery. Regardless, the blob starts undulating very slowly in his direction, making no particularly threatening moves other than continuing to engulf everything that wasn't nailed down. As it jiggles its way out of the dark office, Squeeze and Skittles notice the dark orange tint of its translucent form. Maybe it had eaten a lot of paint. Either it could not speak, or was just a really antisocial jerk. Doc peers around the corner, checking the strange blob for any sign of the ever-so-important codes. Indeed, at least three "MASTER CODE" pamphlets seemed to be inside the ochre bulk, but which of them (if any) belonged to the wagon in the box was a mystery. The pamphlet-makers had not made the seemingly obvious decision to denote which codebook had gone with which wagon. Skittles' antennae twitch with faint revulsion as the thing approached. The blob stank of burnt plastic, though no one else seemed to notice. This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Jul 20, 2012 at 09:05 PM.
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Slim fiddled around with a couple of buttons and devices near the main office. They looked slightly primitive compared to the glass-box-tech in the central hall. The one he was most interested in he'd come to know as Mike Rofon. At least that's what he'd heard others call him. (Or was it a her?) He turned a knob clockwise, one counterclockwise, pressed a button here and there, when suddenly...
Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: A loud stream of bouncy-sounding Ancient Myusik started to resonate through the building. Slim rushed out towards the others and saw the rusty coloured blob slowly... lumbering? Slurping? At any rate, it was moving towards them at an alarmingly slow rate. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
Skittles slips off his night vision goggles and calls over to Dr. Andesite. "Doctor, bring your torch over here and shine it on this gelatinous beast. I'm going to take a running jump and see if I can grab the code books. I'm going to need you guys to pull me out once I've grabbed them."
I was speaking idiomatically. |
"A moment, friend Skittles. I may be able to wrap my cowboy boot chain around your legs, to pull you out quickly should something go wrong."
"If you will permit me, I may also be able to coat you from head to toe with my secretions. This may give you some protection against the digestive enzymes within. Mmmmhmm." "Mmmmhmm." What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() |
Ignoring his pledge never to get involved in bondage play with Squeeze, Skittles wraps the friendly blob's chain around his right leg and takes a running leap into the giant mass of ooze. Much to his chagrin, he trips and falls flat on his face. Most amazing jew boots |
"Right, well. Perhaps I can help." Squeeze reaches for Skittles with frightening slime speed, grabs two of his arms with his pseudopodia, spins the cockroach around like a top, and then violently lets him go in the direction of the gelatinous bulk. Athletics: 15+5=20 Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]()
Last edited by Stop Sign; Jul 23, 2012 at 10:31 PM.
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??: 17 + ? Success! He discovers that moving around in the blob is not unlike swimming through jello (something he did one summer for money when he was younger, and would never speak of it again), and he moves agilely towards the next code book. ??: 16 + ? Another code book is within his grasp, and he swims towards the last one. ??: 9 + ? He grabbed something, but he isn't sure what. Skittles is growing a bit worried, and swims around to face Squeeze. He waves and yells, "Ok, pull me out now!" which sounds something like "Mmmmbth, pllluuu meeeooow!" to the rest of the party. There's nowhere I can't reach.
Last edited by nuttyturnip; Jul 23, 2012 at 11:04 PM.
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Ready a sample dish for collection of an interesting ooze specimen upon Skittles' egress.
This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. ![]() ![]() |
Squeeze "helpfully" flings his old friend into the ooze, ignoring the cockroach's squawk of alarm. Making the best of it, Skittles flails around, grabbing as many of the little MASTER CODE books as he can.
Hmm, trying to grab small objects while your vision's obscured... guess I'll call those Perception rolls, so the worst of them is an 18 so yeah enjoy having three codebooks I suppose. Squeeze hauls him out with an unpleasant squelch. The ooze has temporarily halted its forward progress in response to part of its dinner being stolen. It seems out of sorts. How ya doing, buddy? |
Don gloves and begin scraping some of the ooze off of Skittles into a sample dish whilst muttering about the thermal properties of various ooze species.
I was speaking idiomatically. ![]() ![]() |
"*CROUGH!*
*CRUUUUUUUH!* *COUGH!...* Oooooooh... *BLARGH!!!!!*" As radioactive chunks of semi-digested rat and blood start spewing forth from his mouth and all over his face and upper torso, Stonum makes the necessary effort to sit up. He wipes his face slowly, and considers the bottle next to him intently for a bit, before finally settling for putting it into his pack. As he sees the giant blob starting towards the party, he gets up. He looks at Skittles, takes a few weak steps towards the door, and shakes his head in disappointment while leaning heavily on his shield. "Why did you lads have to go and disturb that thing? Do you ever want to get to Enver, or am I the only one who... *BLUUUUUHHHH!!!!...*" After hurling up a few more chunks, Stonum readies his Blunderbuss for battle. "UUUnnnn.... Well, here we go again." How ya doing, buddy? ![]() Juggle dammit |
Skittles hears the dwarf stir from his drunken stupor, and turns around to see a giant gun pointed in his general direction. "Whoa, Stonum, put that thing away. Our slimy friend here isn't going anywhere fast, and you're liable to shoot us instead. Besides, what is a gun supposed to do against a ball of slime?"
Turning to Squeeze, Skittles hands him the master codes he just retrieved. "Why don't you try these out and see if you can awaken that machine?" Everyone backs out of the room with the slime and closes the doors, blocking the blob from view. "Hurry up," Skittles urges. "Let's get that thing moving and get out of here before that blob catches up to us." FELIPE NO |
Once again, Squeeze feels a strange compulsion coming from the cockroach, as if the cockroach was trying to control his body. Something like, leave the room and close the doors? He shakes it off, hustles over to the glass case, slips under it, and tries the codes on the machine.
What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? ![]() |
Stonum squints briefly at Skittles, and then turns back to continue watching the blob.
"Maybe your right, Bugg-o, but I'd still rather be ready if it tries anything. And you'll see what my little darling will do to that slimeball if it does." Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() Juggle dammit |
While the doc scrapes some samples off of Skittles' dripping form, Squeeze slips under the case again to try the various codebooks one after the other.
8, 6, 7, 5, 3, 0, 9. No dice. 2, 8, 1, 8, 0, 0, 4. Nope. 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1. The ancient (if well-preserved) machine responds with a low hum, the multitude of little buttons on its controls lighting up like a well-loved Winterweenmastime shrub. Of course there was still the small issue of which button actually makes it go, not to mention getting it out of the box. What did all these buttons do? Ancient pictograms were always so unclear. Other than the numerical buttons to input codes, there were twelve other buttons on the panel: A cube with two circles in it, a rabbit, a bottle full of fire, a box full of fire, a bottle with two butterflies fighting each other, a diamond with an exclamation point, an acorn, a man sawed in half at the waist, a snake with a bag on its head, an upside-down light bulb, a rectangle with a plus and minus sign, and finally one of those metal boxes one so frequently finds above old gas deposits. The blob, which had been slowly squeezing its way beneath the doors, freezes up at the sound of the wagon's electronic hum and then retreats back to the office. Hopefully Slim hadn't left anything terribly important in there. There's nowhere I can't reach. |
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