Something shook the blackened acid-metal surfaces of the cylindrical capsule - the piercing tip breached its way into the fleshy and distinct cavity. Inside of the transverse was a number of crystal tubes, pressurized with yellowy chemical sleep - helpless figures inside. Each was clad in a tight elastomer suit, covering the mid thigh to the shoulder and lower jaw, with a circular cutout from below the ribs to the upper pelvis. The suits dug into the skin, the flesh beneath bloated with chemical sleep - several, in fact, had grotesquely filled the tube in entirety; gurgling and moaning as they suffocated, pressed against the crystal.A few did survive - recent memories crudely wiped, and re-implanted with the nature of their mission:> Primary goal: Destroy the Furnace Record> Secondary goals: Kill Pontainlou, kill Germfather Gustav, destroy the Gas Injection Depot.Any agents that survive to complete the primary goal, will be psychically broadcasted directions on how to be safely extracted. Completion of secondary goals will reward additional pardons and indulgences. Surviving agents:> Fusil - Grapevine Cult PsychicDescription: A grotesque mystic of the apocalyptic Grapevine cult. Believes in the great coincidence and upholds the cult doctrine. Skin is pale grey like all clones, lips are drawn back from drinking tumor wine. His forehead is engorged from his overdeveloped brain.Skills: Knows basic psychic abilities.> Marmora - Insect Ranch MidwifeDescription: Buxom farmhand from an insect ranch, where creatures are grown for repurposable biomass. Skin is pale grey like all clones, her hair is wiry and curly. Body is muscular and disproportionate from rearing mammoth grubs.Skills: Immense strength.> Vittori - Data Clan SpyDescription: Petite and unassuming, but more fragile than most clones. Skin is pale grey, hair is short. An additional eye grows in the middle of her forehead, and one arm is lost to degradation. External stomach sac implant hangs off the hip, implanted by their Data Czar.Skills: Espionage and infiltration.> Linter - Neo-ChauvinistDescription: Neo-Chauvinist from the Orangutan Cities, skin dyed olive to emulate womb-made humans. Hair is short and face is covered with stubble. Build is slight but muscular. Fingers are surgically elongated.Skills: Deduction and rhetoric.> Which agent are you?As you awaken, the failing release valves on the remaining chemsleep tubes give way. The three other surviving passengers aboard the transverse begin to thrash in agony and pound on the inside of the crystal tube.> Which additional agent do you move to rescue?
>>6352301>Which agent are you?Marmora>Which do you save first?Fusil
This sounds interesting as fuck, am I correct to assume some Eye Divine Cybermancy & Cruelty Squad influences?>>6352301>We are Linter>Save Fusil>Save Vittori as a runner-up / tiebreaker
>>6352301>We are Vittori>Save Marmora
>>6352301Be MarmoraSave Linter
>>6352301>Be Fusil>Save Linter
test
>>6352604Ignore obvs. Was having an issue posting earlier.---> You are Marmora You are Marmora, an insect rancher, likely from an industrial ranch on some codependent sphere. She had mostly carried the grubs around the facility - moving them from the spawning pens to the juicers. On other days - occasionally performing decrungling duty or manning the grub milking machines, but overall was primarily shaped by hard physical labor and exposure to the myriad varnishes and bastes used in the industry. The surface of smooth crystalline glass met her fingers until the sharp angled edge bit into her - feeling around for the bottom of the slowly rising tube containing her. Fluid spilled everywhere as she threw it high, falling from the platform and thrashing about as the chemsleep drained between the hex-grate.> Save Linter An agonizing crawl later, she delivered judicial maintenance to the control panel beneath the Neo-Chauvinist’s tube. The machine similarly extruded him - landing on an alert knee, arm curled like a scorpion’s tail. His wry smile took in Marmora’s generous silhouette, and he addressed: “WOMAN.” In the moments to follow, the last of the transverse’s passengers squealed as they turned to meat-logs in their crystal sausage casing. In the moments to follow that came a sputtering pop from the gantry a half-floor above, and disharmonized choral notes cried out as though the acid-steel machine itself was afraid. In a recess at the back of the vehicle, rainbow steam poured from the Xanadu engine and began to fill the chamber. “TIME TO FUCKING GO.” Marmora replied, late, to Linter - grabbing a fistful of his elastomer suit and pulling him along. Beyond the quadripartite opening opposite the howling machine was the greasy air of some ancient petrified bowel - a sweet, acidic scent indicating some lake of bile beyond. “HOLD UP.” Linter said, writhing in her grasp. “LET’S TAKE SOME OF THIS SHIT.”> Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer.> Take the microfiche map and GRIST® Φ40.00 gift card from the emergency supplies.> Take the syringe of Phantom Limb, tourniquet, and pack of breathmints from the first aid kit.
>>6352610> Take the microfiche map and GRIST® Φ40.00 gift card from the emergency supplies.
>>6352610>Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer.
>>6352610> Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer.Can't have a suicide mission without a cigarillo to smugly light up after you complete it without a scratch.
>>6352610> Take the syringe of Phantom Limb, tourniquet, and pack of breathmints from the first aid kit.
>We grab the cigarillos, Linter grabs the breathmintsI'm absolutely loving the writing style on this.
>>6352610> Take the microfiche map and GRIST® Φ40.00 gift card from the emergency supplies.Φ40.00? Imagine what she could do with that money.
>>6352610> Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer.Caves of Qud quest, let's goooooo–Force is 100% required and here we ought to acquire some.
>Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer.
> Take the immobilizer pistol and box of cigarillos from the single dead transverse officer. A weapon seemed like an essential piece of gear if Marmora was to eliminate her targets - even a non-lethal sidearm could be upgraded to a lethal option with the help of strangulation. With one hand still toting her companion, the other frisked the guard’s bent corpse for equipment. His trusty immobilizer pistol - a twisting horn of brass - was half-light with a nearly empty wax canister. Still, it could deliver a few more blasts of phlegm - contracting the skin and muscles temporarily upon striking a fleshy target. The smile means it’s working! The cigarillos in his breast pocket were, unfortunately, military surplus and not the bold-and-tosted variety that a rancher like Marmora would prefer. The two of them tumbled out of the canister-vehicle and dug their fingers into the expectant ground. Writhing and twisting, their muscles guided viscera into knots and squeezed out the last of the sour medicine. Rainbow sparks and whirling coils of smoke drove them, stumbling, down the cavernous, ribbed tunnel - until the cave’s mouth opened to a burbling quicksilver sea. Marmora wiped her colorless lips with the back of her hand, pistol tucked into her bodysuit like some kind of awesome tumor - and looked at the bracketed railway ahead and above that the transverse had leapt from. An echo of the Xanadu engine’s cheering rang through the mound behind them as an explosion blew putrescence skyward. “WEIRD.” she said, “THE CRASH CAUSED THE DAMAGED ENGINE - NOT VICE VERSA?” Marmora said as she began following the slope down to the shore - the transverse was more elaborate than anything she had operated, but a grub-tractor machine lived and died upon the same principles. “WOMAN!” Linter said, shuffling to keep up - he rolled his eyes. “GIVE ME THE SMOKES, OK?” The haphazard concrete stack of some necropolis bristled with smog a ways beyond, the transverse-rail cutting perfectly through the half-moon of shore between the wreckage and the slum. Teeth formed stairs in the swell of the slope, and an awkward descent became simple. In the opal foam emerged the latter half of a box-jalopy, back peeled wide. Two figures threw canisters from it, while another performed a dual-duty - keeping watch and pinning a gaunt prole beneath his boot.> Recognize the Chauvinist apparel and stylings of the three and direct Linter to perform diplomatic introductions.> Arrive openly, offering cigarillos and making cruel and pithy assessments of the situation.> Approach via subterfuge and attempt to incapacitate the jackboots, wringing the prole for information.> Cross upon the hill’s crest and bypass the commotion.
I'm also not against write-ins generally, as long as they're reasonable and well-intentioned. Ones that are additions to the main options are best/easiest I think...Also wtf is the captcha on this site now???>>6352701Thanks!>>6352758one of my favourite games! Even though I wasn't even going for that this time...
>>6352941> Recognize the Chauvinist apparel and stylings of the three and direct Linter to perform diplomatic introductions.>Give Linter the Cigarillos.Well, we have no map. So we need direction.
>>6352948> Recognize the Chauvinist apparel and stylings of the three and direct Linter to perform diplomatic introductions.>Give Linter all but one of the Cigarillos.We need it for aura farming, guys.
>>6352948+1
>>6352966+1, Linter's dialogue so far cracks me up.Forgive my ignorance, but what kind of vehicle did we just exit?
>>6352941> Recognize the Chauvinist apparel and stylings of the three and direct Linter to perform diplomatic introductions>Give Linter the smokesWe don’t like them anyway
>>6352941>>6352941> Cross upon the hill’s crest and bypass the commotion.>Give Linter the smokes
[Cigarellos lost]Gentle Giant sisters.... it's... over.
+1 We need more aura, sound insteresting.- Support calltoaction.now
>>6352941Don't you have a story to tell? (Story to tell?)Don't you have someone to kill? (Kill?)
>>6352941>> Approach via subterfuge and attempt to incapacitate the jackboots, wringing the prole for information.
