U.D.S. : Before

[tlo]

(( Ultimate Doomed Session: Before. ))

A young troll stands in his Respiteblock. It just so happens that today, the 17th bimonthly perigee of the third dark November, is nowhere near his birthday. It is, however, the forty-seventh anniversary of the stalemate against the Humans, who now occupy half of Alternia. Actually, exactly half, down to the last square inch. They'd measured carefully.

Both halves had the threat of nuclear warfare over each other's heads, and thus nobody hit that red button.

But, back to the young troll.

What will the name of this young troll be?

> Enter Name


[ PUKESWALLOW BUTTBRAINS_ ]


No, no. Not funny. This gag is stupidly overused. And, well, as is that one.

> Try again, numbskull.


[ ZEALON NORMAE, CRAZY-GO-NUTS FEATHER-BRAIN ]

> Close enough. Now, go examine your Respiteblock.

Your name is Zealon. As was previously mentioned, it is nowhere near your birthday, so would you drop it? Not a cake in sight. You are a troll of many interests, though at the moment you have ONLY A FEW. One of them is INTERESTING PATTERNS, which you have a CRIPPLING OBSESSION with. Also, you love LARGE BOOKS and SHINY ROCKS.  Also, you are STARK RAVING MAD. Just thought you'd like to know.

What will you do?

> Retrieve fake arms from recooperacoon.


You do so with gusto, diving down into the green SOPOR SLIME, being extra sure not to swallow any. That stuff is not to be eaten. You swiftly step out of the slime, and sit at your desk. Turns out your arms weren't down there.

> Change your clothes, you ninny.


Zealon has no desire to do so, but thanks you for your consideration.

=+(=•x)+>, where x=no. of players/2


Zealon just sits at his dest untill-Oh, wait! Is that someone Trolling you? You though you'd scared everyone away by now. Maybe they're just Pestering you. People sometimes send your Chum handle out to their friends for a laugh, because they know moonstruckMountebank is bonkers.

[doomedNeophyte]

==> Be the young human boy

  You are now the young human. The human boy stands around his bedroom. It seems today is the day.....that is just like any other day. Nothing special. You reside in NEW NEW YORK CITY on half of Alternia. You, along with your sister, had barely moved in this apartment only a few days ago. Boxes are still filled with useless junk you will go over later. His birthday was only a few months ago and has already received his NAME PLAQUE.

==> Enter name anyways

   [ PATHETIC HOTHEAD_ ]

   The boy's eye twitches, he is not amused.  

==> Try Again

  Your name is MATT THOMPSON. You have a variety of interests, most of which are packed in the many boxes that fill your room. Your passion involves SPORTS, your favorite being BOXING. You like to stay ACTIVE which explains your FIT BODY. On your free time, you enjoy PLAYING VIDEO GAMES and WATCHING ANIME. However, you only do those things when you're not WORKING OUT. Above games and anime, you like to READ MANY KINDS OF BOOKS. You even sometimes wander through TROLL LITERATURE. You study up on THE RICH HISTORY OF HUMANS AND TROLLS, because you'd like to get to know your friends culture wise as well. On rare occasions, you write FAN FICTION, but you always keep them to yourself because of the high level of SMUT they contain. Your chumHandle is charmingMannequin and you type with a bit of, uh, uncertainty, you think.

  What will you do?

==> Set punching gloves to strife specibus

  You set your DAD'S BOXING GLOVES to your Strife Specibus. You prefer to use glovekind than your bowkind, which is just collecting dust in your Strife Portfolio.

==> Retrieve your laptop

  You head over to the other side of your room, where the box containing your laptop and other personal belongings are located. You set up your system over at your desk. It's time to pester one of your friends, it seems.

==> Pester MM

  charmingMannequin began pestering moonstruckMountebank

[CM]: hey, how's it, uh, going?

[CM]: i hope you're well

[tlo]

> Zealon: Grin quaintly and answer Matt.


Zealon cannot grin quaintly. He just grins like the maniac he is, and cracks his knuckles like a concert pianist, readying to type on his trusty RetroTop v. 4.07

(( Here's a chat for us: http://unsupported.msparp.com/chat/CM-MM_UDS ))

[BurdenKing]

==>Be the Burgundy Blood

You become a young troll boy, nearing his 18th human year and his 8th sweep of life. Normally, a time like this would cause troll to freak out, since the imperial drone would be coming around to pick up your matesprite or kismesis's slurry along with your own. Sadly, you don't have either, but you decided that it wasn't that big of a problem. Not like any troll would want to get it on with a peasant blood like yourself.

So while you wait for that day where you pull off your little plan, you go on with your life, gathering jewels and gems to make little trinkets, slightly hoping for a troll girl to see them and fall into your arms.

==> Alright, enough romantic slash mortality issues.

Fine, you decide it's nothing worth worrying anyways.

This young troll, who has neither a future or name, needs a name.

==> Enter name

The viewer types something very hurtful and honestly degrading....your actual name Ayate Janava. It's not like you hate the name or anything, but it's honestly brought you nothing but scorn, since you shared the last name of the troll who helped the humans move onto your world. Oh well though, the Tunneler had his reasons, and he was a decent enough person, and once kicked the Empress in the face. It's a moment you like to think back to every now and again at the mere thought of it.

Just then, you watch your wormdad tear through one of the foundations of a purple bloods hive. You can't help but laugh as you hear the screams of a Subbjugulator getting crushed along side his Lusus. Your laughter is drowned out as your worm dad consumes the wreackage, and tunnels on past you. You jump onto the side of worm dad, and move your way yo his tail, where your hive is mostly a hammock under some outcropping armor plating.

You swing along your Hammock quietly, and activate the Husk top you have imbedded into your Lusus' armor, hopping online and sending out the automatic little message that Goldentracker was now online popping up on all his friends computers. However, while you waited for someone to message you, you sent confirmation to your human employer, thus completing the job you had been working on for awhile.

[tfkfan1342]

==>Be the Small one

You are now the small one...You start by walking down the street in your full armor Your dragon Dad right with you.  At this point everyone knows not to mess with you since you have asserted your dominance here.

==>Enter Name

The narrator knows to enter your correct name immediately, because he does not want to get a rise out of you.  Your name is Aconoi Almere, and you are a small green blooded troll.  When you were young everybody picked on you because of your size...So you decided to get so strong that nobody would be able to pick on you.  And it worked.  You have horns that extend straight back, and you know how to use that Halberd that you tote around with you everywhere you go.

==>Enter Hive

You do what you were just about to do anyway and go from the street back into your hive.  You look at your husktop and see that Goldentracker is online.

==>Start a conversation

FerociousProtector has begun trolling Goldentracker

FP: Hello Golden, how goes it?

==>Read your newspaper while you wait for a response

The newspaper says that Ayate Javana is at it again with his killing of the Subbjugulators again.  If you ever catch that guy/girl you are gonna kill him/her.

==>Be somebody else

[dexterousSurvivalist]

> Become the moody one.

You are now the moody one, who stands at the edge of the room as you watch your brother repair a piece of contraption in the middle of the room. To be honest, your not so sure what it is. But either way. You decide to leave the room, onto the corridor where people walk pass here and there. New new york is far too crazy for new comers.

> Stop right there! We need to know you!

You perk a brow at this command. You stand there still.

> Enter name.

Fuckfart barfface.

You frown at this and wait.

> Jill Larnce. Seth in the middle.

You nod your head at this and then start to walk towards the crowded lift and start to descend it. As soon the doors open, you step out and begin to walk towards the exit of the flat. As you walk out, you start to head up northwards towards the walls.

> Introduction time!

Your name is indeed Jill Seth Larnce and you are 16 years of age. You are quite the moody type that sometimes restrains it away with your modus. Your modus on the other hand is set to moody, meaning anything that happens to you that courses your mood to swing in one direction, ejects everything under that set mood. So you'll have to be careful there. Your strife weapon is bladeKind and your chum handle is dexterousSurvivalist. Your hobbies are examining nature and cataloging it for future testings or to have a greater understanding. As well as drawing things.

> Get to the wall and enter lift.

You get to the lift of the walls of new new york. To then step out on top of the wall, getting out a coin and then heading toward a telescope. As you get the the telescope. You put in a coin and peer through it.

> Becomes someone else for the mean time.

[tlo]

(( OK, guys. I'm taking it that Chao ain't joining, so post order from now on just repeats this cycle we've started. If someone doesn't post 24 hours from the time they could post, you're allowed to skip, but you might wanna wait a bit more to be courteous. And, never do this if the plot doesn't allow it, like they need to respond to a conversation or some what. ))


> Become someone else for the mean time.


You try to become someone else. You truly do. But, sadly, Jack Noir has way freaking too many irons in the fire to deal with your shit. Like, so many. One might say he had all the irons in the fire. So, in stead, you just be Courtyard Droll.

> State name and rank.


You are ARCHAGENT COURTYARD DROLL, and you were just demoted into this position by the queen herself. Well, she said it was a demotion, but it was actually a promotion. She is KIND OF A JERK. And, you're kind of an idiot, so none of this ever occurred to you.

Anyhow, your job is to watch over the many affairs in the DARK KINGDOM while Jack is gone. Which is to say, you're stuck with this stinky job. You don't even have a full CUBICLE OF VIGILENCE; You think Jack made off with the FOURTH FENESTRATED WALL  when he left. For good.

> Do something, you squat imbecile.


Courtyard Droll just sits there like an imbecile, which as previously stated, he is. He doesn't even know how these walls work, so he just stares at the vacant spot of the FOURTH WALL, which he replaced with a large cardboard cutout of one. It is RATHER DASHING, if he does say so himself.

> Stop being this moron. Be the crazy kid again, he was entertaining.


You are now the crazy kid again.

Show Pesterlog:

Spoiler:

> Go to homestuckrole-play.rpg-board.net


Zealon exits Pesterchum, and opens his web browser, Phobos. He then goes to homestuckrole-play.rpg-board.net.

What... What are these lunatics doing?

> Zealon: Retrieve fake arms from your DEAD LUSUS ALCOVE.


Zealon does so with much grinning, fondly regarding the corpse of his Lusus in the alcove, which was right next to his fake arms.

> Zealon: Captchalogue arms in your Sylladex.


Zealon captchalogues his arms, using his fabulous PERIODIC MODUS. Fake Arms > Rubber > Carbon> C > c > 3 > 3/2 > 1.5 > 2, thus the Arms go in your second card. Simple, right?

> Captchalogue Complete Collection of All Commentaries on Moby Dick. All of them.


Zealon does so, and it goes into his  second slot as well, as Zealon put it in as Carbon, which is one of paper's main components. In retaliation, the Sylladex propels the arms out as solid blocks of charcoal, which is also made of carbon. You forgot about that little quirk.

The CHARCOAL ARMS hit your dead Lusus right in the face. Ouch.

> Allocate the book to your STRIFE SPECIBUS.


The book goes into your Tomekind specibus. Jeez this thing is heavy.

> Be someone else. Maybe they'll goof about with their Sylladex too.

[doomedNeophyte]

==> Be that one bulky human

  You go back to being Matt Thompson. Your sister has just given you one of her MANY lectures. This time it was about being lazy and unproductive. You laugh at the thought since you know for a fact the you are the opposite of lazy.

==> Begin Sylladex shenanigans

  HA! Like YOU would do such a thing. You're much too smart for GRID MODUS. Math has always been your strongest subject, right after P.E of course. You captchalogue a few of your favorite books such as The Hunger Games, Trollian Culture and History, The Odyssey and A Series of Unfortunate Events. You've already read all of these, though you like to reread them from time to time. You put them all in one card to prevent from any clutter filling up your Sylladex. They are assigned the variables (-2 , -1) and (3 , 1). You know that the slope is 2/5, just by glancing at the coordinates. Along with your books, you captchalogue yo- your Heavy Metal Band poster? It looks like some of your Sister's junk got in your junk by mistake! Oh well. You captchalogue the thing anyways.

==> Pester another friend

  What?! Your wi-fi is off! You can't connect to pesterChum becuase there's currently no source of Internet.

==> Go tell your sister what's up

  You head down the hall to the living room where you spot your sister watching her daily dose of Soap Operas. Ugh, that shit. You prepare yourself for another lecture from your sibling, since you know for sure that no Internet is a punishment of some sort.

==> Fail pathetically

  Sadly your sister got the best of you. Her antics were just too much for you to handle. You're going to have to deal with no Internet for a while unless you find another strong source.

[BurdenKing]

==> Be the Rust blood

You carry on being the rust blood, your hammock bouncing a little with the high speed tunneling your worm dad was doing, which you've decided to treat like a beat as you listened to it. It wasn't music, but you didn't mind, cause it was better then silence.

However, over the thundering noise, you hear the little alert with trollian....or pesterchum...what ever. It's some chat crap that one of your online buddies made you set up. Honestly, you were fine with what you had before, but it was easier to keep track of your friends this way.

==>Respond to friend

Chat log:

As you wait for a reply, you go about fiddling with your jewelery, waiting to get word from your employer so she could maybe hook you up with your pay.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Be the Employer.

You be THE EMPLOYER, and have the pondering thought of goofing with your sylladex. You immediately rescind this idea as ridiculousness. Your sylladex was tedious and rather boring honestly. It was quite fun though to watch any random item destructively fly in a random direction any time you attempt to touch something that was short of being a solid gold shit on your marble floor. You were just that RICH.

You had no time for such frivolous adventures. After all your birthday was next month... and then you would be a full grown freakin WOMAN. Even without the foresight of a seer, you could already see yourself in the raunchy situations you would undoubtedly get yourself into upon becoming "of age". There was, of course, the consequence of actually being an adult now... and being an ELITE brat didn't do anything to lessen the impact of... ugh dare you even say:

Responsibilities.

==>Make a face of Disgust

You don't have to tell yourself twice, your face is already pre-molded into that hideous gesture that it naturally makes when the word-that-shan't-be-mentioned... is mentioned. Gog you hate that word. Its worse than any fucking crappy cuss word that any bitch gave a shit about. Immediately you regret this train of thought and promptly jump the fuck off of it.

==>Relax

You begin to recline in a luxurious pile of money.

You wiggle a little in happiness of all the money adorning your bodice, and lavishing your bare legs. You smile as the holographic display kicks up in front of you for your viewing pleasure. There are a number of CRITICAL FILES swirling around you like pixies, that were for any number of things that the elite just had to know.

They had meetings about these sort of things, if you believe that conspiracy malarkey.

Speaking of conspiracy

==> Be notified by Emtrollee

Oh! A job must have been completed. You wonder what he has to say on the matter. Inciting the Last World War was ALWAYS interesting, and he was just one cog in the grand gyrating pleasure machine. Some day, even Doc won't be able to stop what you've set into motion.

You open up a chat with him in the future, when he is done with whatever the hell it is he is doing now. You can't rightly be sure who or why he's talking to someone else other than you, but you could care less. You weren't jealous of any OBVIOUSLY troll that was contacting your assassin.

You'd rather not bombard him with contacts, so you take the most available time for him to talk.

bitchenBabe [BB] began pestering future-goldenTracker [FGT]

[BB] Tell me ALLLL the sticky smut you've been up to, you scandalous troll!
[BB] ;) *muah*

[dexterousSurvivalist]

> Snake. Yawn.

A giant snake head yarns before another come down.

> Another snake head? Yawn?

It yawns too and yet another one comes down!!!

> Ughhhh, yawn too.

That possibly third and final snakes head yawns before a troll stands near.

> You troll! What is your name there?!

Sandpapper Ass

> Sandpapper Ass. Toss dagger at name plate.

The dagger sticks into it and resets.

Shurka Lavrus.

> Shurka. Grunt.

You are now Shurka. You happen to be keeping a eye on your lusus father over there. A three head snake with two tails. Before walking over to him and sitting down near him as you bring out your brown husktop.

> Shurka make a memo.

SP: How iS everyone?

> Intro away!

You are SHURKA LAVRUS! You are a troll that has bronzed blood color within the spectrume. You are currently traveling the underground tunnels with your lusus, for misfortune dinner. Your 8.77 solar sweeps old [19 in human birthday years] and your hobbies are staring at things and flarping. Your a hunter in general terms to will pretty much eat everything before your raw or not. But however, behind all that cold shell from the outside of yours. Your quite gentle in the inside. Your modus is hiss tone and oh! You also have a split tongue. Your strife weapon is daggerkind.

> Shurka. Flip the bird.

You put your middle finger up at the viewers. Hoping they would just leave you alone.

[tlo]

(( OK, I'm nearly sure it's my turn to post. If it ain't, whatever, shoot me. I think the order is me, Doomed, BK, TFK, Dex, DT, repeat. If it ain't, this is just to freaking complex. And, anyways, this is the official order now. :P ))

> Be the crazy one again. He plays around with inventory systems.


You are now Zealon, but you've already had your full of playing around with your Sylladex. You can only do that for so long.

> Zealon: Get to hacking.


Zealon can't copy the GAME FILE if he doesn't have THE GAME, numbskull!

> Check your mail then, doofas.


We've established the mail isn't in yet, moron.

> Well, the thing about the mail is that it can come in five minutes after you check, blockhead.


Fine, fine whatever. You look out your mailbox security camera which is connected to your laptop. The red thing. The flappy arm dealy. The funny thing that looks more like a leg than an arm. It's up. But, you can't remember what that means. Luckilly, you don't think your mailman does either. You just sit back down at your desk and start to open Pesterchum again.

> NO. BOY. WHY DO YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING I TELL YOU?! IT'S LIKE SOME SORT OF CRAZY GAME YOU PLAY. GO GET THE MAIL.


You glumly get up, and climb down your ladders to the door.

> Open the door already. Open. It.


You open it already. Except, it just opens to a black slat of wood. That's right, this is the fake door. The real one is in that window. This is exactly why they let you design your hive as a kid, they get all these extra functions.

> Crawl out the window then. Honestly.


You crawl out the window. This, by the way, isn't hard for someone who does this every day, even if they're four feet tall.

> GRAB THE MAIL. GRAB IT GRAB IT GRAAAAAB IIIIIIII-


You dash to the mailbox, slapping it to open the lid, and reach in. There's... Nothing.

> Idiot. They're in the packages on the grass.


You grab all eight, trying to balance them on your short limbs. They just fall to the ground.

> Make. Several. Trips. You. Imbecile.


Zealon makes several trips, and piles the boxes in his room. Eight purple boxes, four client and four server games.

> Captchalogue the games.


You Captchalogue the pile, and it goes in your much-used card No. 2.

> Now, don't you get smart with me. Drop those boxes, take one of each disk, and plug them into your computer.


You do just as the voice says, not wanting to make it shout again. But, you just put in the Server Player disc, as your RetroTop only has one disk slot.

> Be someone else. This is getting boring.

[BurdenKing]

==> Be the rust blood once more

You find yourself in the head of the rust blood, who was in the middle of bending the jewelry in his hands to a shape he liked. You were humming a small tune he knew, a human one to be exact. You didn't know the name, but it made the feeling of oncoming culling feel less....bad you could say.

Suddenly, before you could go deeper into that train of thought, you noticed your employer, who is a total bitch by the way, contacted you. You can't help but smile, rather enjoying the conversations you had with her and how hedonistic she was. If she were a troll, maybe there would have been a chance, but likely not.

==> Reply to employer

Whole Chat log:

He sends a picture of the Subjjuguator and his lusus falling into his tunnel screaming.

[dexterousSurvivalist]

> Become the human girl.

You are... Wait. Where are you now? You appear to be standing in the bedroom of some sort of the apartment you've moved in a couple of years ago. As you chillax on the bed. You stare at your computer at the other side of the room.

> Get that AI!

AI? What you on about? That's clearly a computer.

> Get on it nowa!

Sesh, fine. You get off from your bed and quickly sit down on the chair near the computers desk. As you sit there, you begin to open up the pesterchum tab window and turn yourself online.

> Stop that. Research.

You shake your head and bring up another internet tab to start looking up a clear map of the world your on. This website shows a map of the world you are currently living on and something called seismic activity. You just love seeing the land of the world move. But when you take a hard time thinking about it. It does indeed scare you, knowing that great big building can fall under the grounds reckoning. Eh. Your going off there, perhaps its best not to think about it.

> Become totally oblivious to pesterchum and stare at the seismic activity map.

You do this for, how long? We will have to find out soon enough...

>Become someone else in the mean time.

[duelingThoughts]

==>Become someone else in the mean time.

Easy! You become you, because naturally, who else would you be? Certainly no stranger you've never encountered before! That'd be silly, and a little awkward you think. You'd rather stick to your skirt and money. Those are like... your defining features or something, other than of course your godly beauty, if you didn't have a skirt or money you'd be nothing.

Well actually you could ditch the skirt but that would be naughty now wouldn't it? ;)

==> Whore. Continue conversation with Entrollee

Well that was rude!

Whole Chat log:

==>BB: Snicker

Done. You can't help but wriggle in delight at repeatedly watching the subjagawhatsit die with that foul beast thing. You couldn't really recall as to the importance of this figure, other than he was on the uppering end of what ever social systems the inferior trolls deigned to use.

This nasty "rust blood" (read: completely normal blood?), was going to be repeatedly used, again and again, as long as she lasted. She didn't care when he was finished, she would keep going and going until she was through with his services.

She did not foresee needing him much longer, she was getting close. Oh so close for the singular event she so desperately strived for. The climax of her career, and it was well within site. It was only accelerated with the introduction of a game the trolls found, and humans acquired through a complicated negotiation process that lead to a cyber war. Obviously the Cold War didn't spark hot over it yet, because cyber war was the equivalent of "proxy wars" that humans used to have when they were young and inferior on earth: not even unified under one glorious banner.

A banner she intended to adorn upon herself, as she claimed victory over both empires involved in the tension of a possible nuclear end. Speaking of nuclear.

==>BB: Be distracted by your lovely golden visage.

Too easy. Yours eyes wander lazily from her conversation to find themselves scoping out the bust of herself, several meters away. Frozen like a statue, yet ready to spring into action the moment her real self was in danger. A nuclear powered statuebot in the likeness of herself... only if she were a golden statue that is.

You return to the conversation.

==>

[tlo]

> Be the crazy one again. He's still funnier than these other ones.

You are once again the crazy one. Woo-hoo. You stare at your laptop for about ten seconds before realizing something.

> No, no. Not this coy bullshit again. Just get on with it, or I swear I will remove your head with this machine I can hardly make pumpkins with.


You just grin, knowing that the voice in your head is just a voice in your head, like all the others. Though, you like this one. He's more violent than the others.

> CHECK THE COMPUTER. LOAD THE DISK. DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE.


You sigh, and saunter over to your recuperacoon.

> NO. SLEEP IS IN NO WAY PRODUCTIVE. STOP THIS NOW.


You glare at the ceiling and shout that of course sleep is productive. It's sleep.

> No. Just, no. I order you to sit at your ridiculous computer and copy the disks to send to all of your friends. All of them.


Zealon has no friends. Well, Matt says Zealon says he's a friend, but you don't know what a friend is, really.

> Stop using the third person while in a second person narrative. It is too much for my war-weary skull.


Zealon stops using the third person while in the second person narrative. In stead, I use first person.

> NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NONONONONONONONONONNONONONONOONOONONONONNNONONNOOONONONONONONONONOOONONONONON


You scream against your headache, and fall onto your desk, scrabbling at your keyboard. You then open Pesterchum, and just type.

Stop thiS, You minD-Voice warpeD Demon-spawneD Grub cullinG Retsnom1!1!


You're not even sure who that went to. Probably whoever last Pestered you, but if someone started chatting with you or you got a notification, it'd go there. Which, by the way, is the newly-opened memo from Shurka. Maybe he hadn't blocked you for some reason, or it was some glitch.

> OK, calm down, kid. I shouldn't have shouted.


You attempt to calm down. You really do. But you haven't broken anything yet, and your blood is just too hard to ignore.

> Zealon: Break something.


You scream and punch your shelf of rocks, which tumbles into a PILE OR ROCKS on your floor. You then try to uproot your ladder from the floor below, but who are you kidding? You're a half-pink weenie who can hardly use his own Strife Speccibus for lack of strength.

> Hack now, would you? I mean, not to be pushy or anything. Just trying to move this story along.


You mutter something unflattering under your breath and sit at your desk. Your RetroTop has by now finished processing the disk, and is asking if you want to start it. You click 'NO' and realize that there were two 'Yes' buttons, but only one 'NO'. Huh.

> What was that you were talking about before about cake?


You open up your ^Cake file, the one that can strip a system of it's defenses in twelve minutes. It asks what you want to de-fortify. You select the S(burb/grub)_ServerPlayer file from the menu, and wait.

> Do something for twelve minutes. This is stupid.


You smile weakly, and open up your BadSketch program. I't basically the Paint all computers seem to start with, but... Even worse. You then proceed to sketch your desktop, being sure to color your icons and have your detailed background of OLD, LARGE TOMES.

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B-kpXrztaZc2Vkp6UWdBN2F6Nzg/edit?usp=docslist_api

> That link does not work without your troll/human internets. Besides, I can see your desktop anyhow, it's normal and boring wood.


You sigh and open un Pesterchum. And sure enough, you have inadvertently responded to a Memo.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

You then quick switch to Trollian and sent a message back a few minutes to stop people from worrying about your sanity. (Ha-ha)

> No, not time travel! Be someone less complicated, quick!

[BurdenKing]

==>Ayyate, reply to saucy human

You decide to do just that, reading over the humans replies with a bit of glee. Oh how you wished she was a troll, she was just to fun to be stuck in that ugly human body. All red and pink, and no horns, it just looked so weird.

You shrug, thinking that it wasn't something you could fix. Of course, you could always play around, imagine what she would look like as a troll and what her blood type would be.

Whole Chat log:

==> Reply to memo

You quickly read over the whole memo, and just sigh at the episode you were watching. One of your acquaintances was having another one of his weirdo moments. You thought it might have been a good idea to talk to him.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

You had heard of Sgrub, and the subsequent knock off Sburb made by the humans. You had wanted to try it out, but never really to the point of actually trying to do anything about that desire. You smile at the idea, then shrug as you decide to tell your employer, maybe get her more genocidal desires out of the way through the game.

==> Inform employer

Whole Chat log:

[dexterousSurvivalist]

> Be Shurka.

You are now shurka again, who have witness 'something' on trollian. Your not too sure what that was all about, but you shrug it off.

> Respond to memo.

SP: Sure thing. I'll h+ve + file of it.

> Shurka notice your father is waking up.

You begin to feel a movement behind your back and glance over your own shoulder at your lusus snake father. You stand up very quickly and itch away from your father. When you begin to stand there. You take no moment to stay around, knowing that anything in your lusus path is a meal. You turn straight on your heel and leg it away down the tunnel. As you run, you hold the husk top in your arms towards your hive that is not too far from the labyrinth of tunnels nearing the large cavern that your hive is perched up in.

> Continue to run whilst becoming someone else.

[tfkfan1342]

Sorry Guys:

==>Be Aconoi

You see that have gotten a reply from Ayyate.

==>Respond to her message

You decide to do that.

Chat Log:

==>Check your other messages you big meat lug

You see that a memo has opened up. You see that the evil trouble maker has posted something about a game.  You decide to go ahead and get in on this to make sure nobody causes too much trouble.  

==> Tell them you are in

FP:  I am in on playing this GAME.

==>Now be somebody more interesting.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Be someone more interesting

Whole Chat log:

==>Be someone less whorish.

[tlo]

You are now someone less whorish, supposedly.

> Zealon: Check on your Memo.


You check on your memo, even though you didn't start it, so it's not really 'Your' memo.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

Well, you're popular. You decide to start up that Torrent, hijacking several computers about the world to make the process much more simple. Technically, this wasn't legal, but Zealon had never been caught before.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

> Share your files, like you said you would.


You plug in the Client Player disk, and quickly run your ^cake file, doing a couple programming loop-the-loops to make it work faster. This one obviously had less defense. You then send the file to each Pesterchum account who asked for it, though completely forgetting about Matt, who you started this project in the first place for.

> Answer the more important question, it's interesting.


You go back to the Memo, and yeah, there's a question there you'd failed to notice.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

[BurdenKing]

==>Ayyate: Download the files.

You begin downloading the program, making sure to give yourself the Server and the retrieve the client files as well. After you had Installed the Server, you chose to respond to the memo then you're employer.

Show Memolog:

Spoiler:

It wasn't much of a question, more you informing them of an inevitability. Not like any them could really stop you from copying the files and then bringing in your friend for the game anyways even if they didn't want her in.

==> Begin the inevitable

Whole Chat log:

You then begin setting thing sup on your end, and listen to a pretty sweet boot up music. They must have wanted people to stay interested throughout the whole time.

Doomed Login music:

Wait, doomed? that doesn't sound to good....

==> Move on and be someone else

[tfkfan1342]

==>Be Aconoi

You decide to be yourself.  Because...

==>Ok this joke is getting old move on

You decide that you should probably start downloading the game that is mentioned in the memo.  Since your computer is pretty slow it starts to download extremely slowly.

==> Ok now go ahead and message someone

You decide to keep the conversation with Ayyate going.  

Chat Log:

[dexterousSurvivalist]

> Shurka install files.

You are shurka again, who clicks the files and start installing both of them. You enter your hive and slam shut the door behind you. As you did. You slump down on the cough and wait.

> Erutuf Akruhs. Llort Tnerruc Llij tuoba pihsnoitaler smelborp.

Pesterchum:

> Jill at computer. Become either offended or unsure.

As you are. You slowly click the file link and your computer freezes and crashes. The hell?! You do hope that was not a virus. As you stand there, you peer at your apartment window to see the stars falling in the distance. Its becoming a concern to you. Nothing on the news says what it is. But you stand there staring.

> Computer, glow sparks and shit and generate a field of redness.

You turn your head to this. Its totally doing that!

> Computer poof of from what you were doing and become. Reversed Computer <

You stare at this. Unsure what it is. Where is the screen... Why is the interior all. Squishy and well. Leaking what looks like blood.

< RevComp. Open sprout wings, legs and insect wings.

It does that clearly.

< RevComp. Crawl up wall and implant a wire frame to project a screen inside of the frame.

Is that... I that the installed file. Hey wait. Its that guy again. Typing in another language still... No wait. It seems its slowly trying to revert. You squint your eyes at this as you try to make sense of it on your. Hang on! This is not pesterchum! This is something called trollain!!! What is even going on?!

[duelingThoughts]

==>BB: Receive Link

Whole Chat log:

You peer at the files in wonder. Was this not the same file that her respective Empires had cyber-warred over? How in the world did he get his hands on... ?

You are suddenly interrupted by a flash in the sky. Instinctively your head whirls to it with only a degree of fright. You only ever feared the nuclear threat when you were younger, but sometimes you still instinctively looked at strange flashes in the sky, such as lightning. God you hated lightning. They were so misleading to a small and impressionable mind! Fortunately for you, your mind was no longer impressionable, it was quite the opposite really, giving others the impressions she wanted.

Suddenly, your holographic displayed is barraged by warnings. Interesting. Perhaps this was serious. Reports were flooding in from every quadrant of her communications asking things like "Is Hera okay?" "Was it the Trolls?" "The Last War Begins???". Did they seriously think the Trolls would be the ones to begin the end of Alternia, and risk their own extinction? It would be a foolhardy move to think they could win such a war, the Humans had the upper hand of having a secondary homeworld: Earth.

Though it had been rumored that the Alternian Empire was vastly larger than previously anticipated, and the brunt of their forces had yet to show their faces, in the possible risk they could lose their homeworld in the fray; making their sacrifices for naught.

==> Become captivated by the the glare of the falling object.

This was indeed not a good thing, nuclear or non-nuclear, objects falling from the sky never was a good thing. Besides, their technology was so sophisticated how in name of Humanity could such an object enter the atmosphere? Perhaps it was new Trollian weapon. You gritted your teeth in a slightly brewing seething frustration. That would definitely throw a wrench into your machinations.

==> Download

Completely confident in your anti-viral safeguards and the indispensability of your computers, and the innumerable back up files of anything critical present upon your hyper-advance A.I. directed drives, you Download the foreign link that had been fought over in a skirmish you cared little about.

It begins the darkened loading scream with some killer music that you quite enjoy very much. Was it based off of Trollian? No, nothing of theirs could match human culture. You decidedly determine the music is of human origin, nothing so pleasant to the ears could come from the infestation plaguing the ripely fresh world in desperate need for cultivation and urbanization.

You decide to inform your trusty troll that you have already completed downloading. Your computer is just that fast.... though it did take considerably longer than usual. Most downloads took the better part of 3/63rds of a second. This one took a full 3 seconds. That was insane to her... well not really, it was hardly a noticeable difference to her, but her nearly sentient computer rightly freaked the fuck out over the complicated nature of the file. Yet somehow, it was also simple. It in of itself was paradoxical to the hyper aware machine... yet any other simpler machine would have no trouble downloading it at a reasonable rate. This was boggling.

You of course dismissed it completely, and didn't notice the weird plot shit.

Whole Chat log:

==> Be someone else

Psyche!

One last thing to notice.

As you are typing away to your emtrollee, out of the corner of your eye, you believe you saw a green flash. Your golden bodyguardess also seems to take notice, moving ever so imperceptibly to take in the information of the arrival of a VERY powerful entity...

==> Say hi to G Owl

Without even looking away from your holographic computer, or hesitating in your typing (your computer assisting your handicap by predicting what you'd type with your other hand, with a 5% failure rate), you reach over and rub the strange bird thing between its "horns". It leans into your loving gentle hand.

It was as close to a real pet as a pet got for you. The most alluring fact about it was that it didn't always do as you asked! Though you merely attributed it to it being a mere animalistic creature, and not capable of comprehending all your commands. That's what made it cute for you!

==>

Oops! It appears it disappeared again. Oh well, another time then. You smile only slightly, upset just a tad by the briefness of the visit, but you smile at the cuteness of its innocent animal insubordination.

==> Okay, NOW be someone else

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