Re: U.D.S. : Before

[tlo]

You are now the crazy one again, who is fiddling around with the setting for the Server Player.

> Respond to the highblood-killer, you loon. It's literally been two seconds since you opened the server player, but you still insist on fiddling. Jeez.


You smile sheepishly, and open Pesterchum again.

Spoiler:

> Zealon: Deploy.

You deploy the multiple items in the Phernalia Registry, those being the Cruxtruder, Alchemiter, Punch Designix, Totem Lathe, Pre-Punched Card, and a funny disk called Grist Torrent that you're sure Hera hadn't deployed for you. Coupled with the fact that you had 10^3 times more Grist than GT had when server player-ing, it was probably true that it gets easier to get into the game the closer you are to finishing the cycle. Interesting. Almost as though the game wanted you to enter.

> Hack the game again, be amusing.


You raise an eyebrow. Fine, whatever. You open up the game in one of your other programs, and begin allowing your server-playerage to utilized the items you would have obtained had you more people in the cycle.

> Be someone else. This isn't half as amusing as I thought it would be.

[BurdenKing]

==>Hurry up and enter

You sigh, standing up, shaking off some bits of metal and gems from your back, then suddenly broke into a sprint. You rushed by your hand drill, scooping it up and powering up the device with a massive shreaking of power as it sped up. You then charged right at the massive device in the center that had it's countdown.

Grinning widely, you jumped up and smashed your drill bit into the caps, spark flying out like a typhoon of heat. The sound of metal tearing and warping could be heard, the cap being torn to shreds and having pieces fly in dozens of directions. One cut him across the cheek, but he was enjoying the site to much to care.

When he finished, he pulled out the dowel and ran to the Totem lathe, forgetting about the Sprite thing that was floating there, waiting for him to prototype something. As he began the process with the dowel, a massive explosion at the top of his makeshift hive occured.

He turned and looked up, and nearly ran in fear at the sight of dozens of legislacerators coming through, the High legislacerator coming down with them.

==> Be the Lusus

You are now worm dad, and you are unbelievably pissed. Not only had your nap been interrupted, but dozens of older trolls were invading your territory, and were likely here to cull you charge.

You let out a massive shriek that shakes the cave, and launch at the trolls, your teeth and tentacles tearing flesh and metal as you were fueled on your instincts.

==> Be the High legislacerator

You already are, and you are too busy to entertain any thoughts of being anyone else, as the Tunneling Horror lusus was charging at you at full power, blood and metal hanging from it's maw and its tentacles from the squad it just devoured. With a roar that could match the creatures, you charged forward, your eyes sparking wildly as energy built up.

Eight tendrils came rocketing from your left, intent on cutting you down. They're dealt with a blast from your eyes, Burgundy blood shooting out everywhere as you continue your charge at the creature. Your massive stake is held at the ready, smacking tendrils away as you charge at the screaming maw.

With a smirk, you jump into the mouth, your soldiers thinking you insane. Then, you use all of your weight and slam your stake straight down, going through the bottom jaw of the lusus and nailing it to the ground, causing a massive scream of pain to be released.

"Thhhere, thhhhis shhhhould be much easqier now...." You say darkly, taking out another Stake and charging deeper, to pin the creature down more while your troops went about attacking the pinned creature, which was still a massive threat.

[tlo]

> Do something, Zealon. Don't just... Sit there.


You are already doing something. It's called waiting for you programs to compile.

> Programs: Compile


The programs do not compile.

> Programs: Comply


The programs grudgingly comply, and finish compiling.

> Zealon: Do whatever is was you were going to do.


You do whatever it was you were going to do, that being to deploy the items you hacked into the game, completely oblivious to the people in the hive that shouldn't be there. All available items are now deployed, including objects like the Ectobiology Lab that you are pretty sure only special players can get. Whatever, you don't care. This session is already pretty messed up from what your head-demon was saying. What even is the demon's name?

> None of your business. Do something more productive.


You just shrug, and steal Hera's computer for a second, and deploy the new items in your house, condensing most of them into your Alchemiter quickly using the card shunt. Time to alchemize.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Hera, go to sleep

You were basically already in the middle of that, which is why her supposed rampage through Zealon's room ended without much objection on her part, and why her computer was so easily taken over without notice.

Apparently her rage had been induced by chemicals, that have now knocked her out all the way back to the furthest ring on Derse. How embarrassing! Hopefully, nothing like nuclear-golden-stinky-sock-smelling-hentia monster would drape it self over her while she slumbered... which was surprisingly likely, except that she had a guardian angel supposedly taking care of the "imps", that were fortunately not yet prototyped into tentacle rapists.

Your noses scrunches in your sleep.

What the fuck were you on right now?! THIS IS NO TIME FOR HENTIA!!!

==>

You wake up on derse.

What the hell was all this? You blink as you observe the... kinda pinkish colored room. It reminded you of your text color. You decided immediately that you love it and would not have it any other way. Maybe your real room should look like this.

Wait, your real room? Weren't you already in your room? Didn't you just fall asleep? What even was this. You decided you didn't care.

==> Look out your window

Purple. Purple as far as the eye could see, and beyond it, bleak bleak void. Your perception at current was not yet high enough to realize the non-emptiness of the non-existential void, a concept you could not even begin to understand. Who do you think you are, a void player?

What even is that? You decided you didn't care.

Wait what is that down there? Is that... is that GOLD?

==> Hera: Jump

You're not sure what provoked that thought. You decided you didn't care.

You jumped.

And you fell.

Then you flew.

Vertically.

Down...

Down..

Down.

==>

You landed softly on the streets below and your eyes sparkle in amazement. All around you there was an infinite sea of golden... you. These little chess people for some reason had taken a likely to wearing these... theatrical masks that portrayed a golden visage of your face. It... also seemed that they were forced to wear multi colored quilt sock/clothes but you decided you didn't care.

They were beautiful.

==> Kill her

You didn't hear that last command because you were too busy hugging the nearest little thing with your face on it. They were just too CUTE to resist! In fact they were sooooooo cute you couldn't even tell that they didn't seem none too happy to see you awake under their masks.

The crowd quickly transformed into a mob, on the cusp of riot.

[BurdenKing]

==> Flip a shit

You would, if you had time. While the damn legislacerators were busy killing your worm dad, a thing you were not happy with in the slightest, you could plainly a city sized meteor heading straight to your location, with several hundred nukes flying around next to it. You looked at the clock, and it was plain to see you were dealing with rough 3 minutes and 1 second to finish what you needed to finish. As you completed the dowel, you brought both it and the prepunched card to the alchemiter, and began to create the new item.

==> Flip a shit

You would, if you weren't in the stomach of a massive tunneling horror's digestive tracts. You slammed down another stake into the floor of the creatures innards, you're already red visage being stained further in the rust blood of the creature. Little did you know, that outside, you Legislacerators of fifty in size, were being killed by the pinned Horror. Dozens of hues of blood stained the floor, along with party parts and the dying.

All that was left was a squad of 5 holding position just outside the tentacles range, firing their weapons in a panic as the creature began to throw entire chunks of the cave at them. You receive a message from one of you most trust underlings, and frown at the news they were losing. In anger you slam down your last stake, staring off into the distance to see the worm kept going. Tired, you turn and start heading back to the head, hoping to kill the brain while it was stuck.

==> Do the thing.

Before you eyes sat a large uncut gem, sitting on the alchemiters flat surface. You slowly glide your hands across it, admiring the quality of the gem, and imagining it topping off your master piece. With a minute and thirty seconds left, you begin cutting the gem to the dimensions you want, lost in creative fervor. You pay no mind to the screams as your worm dad finally rips himself from the ground and charges the final position of the legislacerators, tearing them apart cruelly and justly, as any good lusus would.

A thin layer of burgundy blood has spread all over the cave floor, mixing in with dozens of other colors, some of which your happy are blues and purples. As you make the final cut, you look at the gem and admire the beauty of it. Not even pay attention to the clock as it counts down to 13 seconds. You began to place the gem within your masterpiece of a frame, just as your Lusus's brain is shot through with Psionic laser.

You are bending the holding metal in place as worm dad writhes in agony, then pumps into the kernalsprite. And when you put the final touches on the piece, there was two flashes of light as your worm dad disappeared and the entirety of your make shift hive disappeared in a flash.

==> Ayyate, Enter the medium

[tlo]

> Zealon: Alchemize


You grin like the crazy you are, and gather up a huge amount of junk from around your hive, piling it next to the huge, upgraded Alchemiter.

You Alchemize:

Your 'Big Book of All Comentaries on Moby Dick (All of them), and ONE (1) CRUXITE DOWEL [&&] to make the BIG BOOK OF CRUXITE. Then you try it with the [||] setting, and get the BIG BOOK (MADE) OF CRUXITE. You suppose it would be up to preference as to which you use, but you are basically forced to use the first one, as the solid block of CRUXITE that is the second one is just too ridiculously huge.



You Alchemize:

Your RetroTop and your 'BIG BOOK OF BIGGER GUNS' [&&] to make the RetroTopTank!


You then Alchemize:

Your SPARE HOODIE and the RETROTOPTANK [&&] to make the RetroTankTop. Maybe not exactly your style, but way more simple when it comes to computing on the go.


You then Alchemize:

Your OTHER SPARE HOODIE and the RETROTANKTOP [&&] to make the RetroTop Hoodie!


You then Alchemize:

A pair of your PATTERNED SOCKS and a ROCK [||] to make the PATTERNED FABRIC ROCK. This... Probably has no use.

> Zealon: Do something highly unorthodox.


You do something highly unorthodox. That is, you lug the BIG BOOK (MADE) OF CRUXITE to the Alchemiter, and plo it on the pedestal. The huge machine scans the book, and whirs.

> Hell: Break loose.


Hell is not ready to break loose yet! But, the glowing does subside, so you can see...

> JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS YOU NUMBSKULL.


Jeez, OK. Don't get your knives in a bunch. What is made by the Alchemiter looks something like a Perfectly Generic Object, with a brilliant white wing sprouting from it on one side, and what looks like jellyfish tendrils sprouting from the other.

> Zelaon: Captchalogue the Perfectly Generic Jellybirdcube.


You decide that that's probably no the best idea. But, you also do it anyhow. You make note of the code, and dash for your computer. You want those wings.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Be surrounded by Hentai... sooooo much Hentai

Well that's just preposterous. It's not like Carapacians get prototyped or anything. Besides, what would even provoke that thought anyway? However, you were beginning to get the slight feeling that the surging horde of black chess people was becoming... painful really.

They started throwing rocks at you, which you really didn't appreciate, but you made sure to be hugging so many of the doll like people that the rocks would hit them more. After all, they're just dolls right? how much could a little rock hurt? Pfft, even if there are hundred of them batting away at them, it can't possibly hurt that bad. After all, you're not getting hurt too bad, so why should they?

The logic makes sense to you, as you lass scamper over the crowd with at least three of the black chess doll people with beautiful goddess-like faces... who were promptly bleeding only a little out of their backs and were either unconscious or very very very very unhappy.

On your way by the riot you totally didn't steal one of the masks and put it on... your face has always been this pretty.

==> Fly away to neverland!

You try to, you really really do, but unfortunately the stars here are a bit different... which is to say there are none. Nothing but horror beyond Derse unfortunately.

But anyway, you do fly with your unwitting companions leaking a trail behind you as you start to zip away from the angry beauty mob of you-personators. Where were you going? Likely anywhere you were not stopped from going.

How about prison! That seems like a good idea!

What... no one said dreamselves had to be logical... in fact its probably safe to say that they are the fucking exact opposite of that.

==> Be surrounded by Hentai... A LOT OF IT

Well this does not look good for you. You sincerely hoped that Hera woke up soon and... fuck what even could she do? This was just madness.

Another tendril groped your tail aggressively and you responded with a back-breaking punch, tearing that sucker off of you... right before another thick stalk grabbed your punching arm while a smaller one wrapped around your waist and yet another still around your chest and going in for you neck or mouth.

You respond by unleashing a chest laser blast burning through the tendrils with nuclear energy. They get knocked back and you float there huffing and puffing. They were still there, relatively unharmed. These things took a lot of damage, its like they were machines or something... nuclear ones. At least you had your sprite powers, those held a lot actually. Although like the last scene... maybe sometimes... you kinda enjoyed getting groped?

Where was the programming coming from anyway, you're freaking robot, you don't have sexual fetishes. The implications of such a thing would just simply... fucking weird and kinda hot. Damnit! Focus on the task at hand AND DO NOT TAKE THE OPPORTUNITY TO FONDLE YOURSELF AT ALL COSTS, THE CONSEQUENCES WILL BE DISASTROUS WH-hem- ...SHOULD THEY TAKE PLACE!

==> Be someone not currently being raped by ten thousand tentacles

[BurdenKing]

==> Awaken, My prince....

You startle yourself awake, sitting in a pile of dirt and rock that had fallen on you during the transit to the medium....wait the what? whatever, who cares.

You look around and see a large expanse of glass cliffs and frogs....frogs literally everywhere. You see a frog have the courage to hop onto your leg. You quickly grab it with your hands and crush the little vermin in your grip until it died, throwing the body away as you stood up.

You look around, trying to catch your bearings, when you see some weird sprite thing like Hera's floating near you, only yours looked like a female troll with tentacles and was extremely massive.

After staring at each other for awhile, you raise you hand

[GT]: =>>> hEy, wHaT's gOiNg oN?

Wormlacersprite: shhhhut it, we need to hhhhurry up and mov eon from hhhhere.

[GT]: =>>> wOaH, a lItTlE hArSh tHeRe dOn'T yOu tHiNk? nOt mY fAuLt yOu gOt pRoToTyPeD wItH wOrMdAd.

Wormlacersprite: just be quiet and contact your client. Shhhhe'll be needing your hhhhelp.

[GT]: =>>> oH, oKaY tHeN sUre.

You turn from the crabby sprite, chuckling at how she was stuck in that body with wormdad. served her right really.

GT and BB chat:

[tlo]

{ Woah, uh, sorry for not posting. NaNoWriMo starts today.}

> Zealon. Yeah, you. Turn around. Just tuuuuurn around.


You turn around, and see a hideous creature. It was about a head shorter than you, which is sort of a feat when you're as short as Zealon is. It had long, thin arms that were sheathed in a pair of patterned socks, so the toe part fell limply at the end? Actually, it seemed to be wearing a huge sock that covered it's whole body like those funny feet-pajamas. And it's golden face... He sort of recognized it, like someone he'd seen in passing, but that was ridiculous, as he only met people via the internet, and never face-to-face. So it was sort of obvious to his that he had seen it when hijacking GT's computer while he was server-playering for Hera.

> Zealon, you loon! Initiate strife!

You initiate strife, and whoo-boy was that quick. You basically just dropped the book on it's head, and it died instantaneously. It also left a sort of oily, gold patch on the rug that made you nervous.

> Pick up the book, retrieve your trophy! I always thought that was such a cool idea.


You grudgingly do so, and obtain some special grist, some GOLD and URANIUM.

> Notice the silly little rodent-thing behind you.


Your eyes spark, and you see that your Lusus has come back to haunt you.

"Z? How has it beeeen all cheese yeeears?"

You ignore it, and proceed to stab it in the chest with the corner of your book. No cookies, the book just goes through it's furry chest.

"Hey, heeeeey, that isn't niceeee, Z."

You ignore it t again, and look for something you can Alchemize with your book to make it able to kill ghosts. If you don't kill this thing soon, it'll drive you mad. Uhm, more mad.

[BurdenKing]

==> Be the Troll boy

You sit on a massive pile of grist and sweet loot you had gathered yourself, looking at the frozen image of tentacle beasts swarming of Hera. It's the last thing you had been able to do before the screen cut out, and you lost connection to your player and employer. You weren't really sure how you felt about this, except you knew that anger was rising within you, likely cause deep down you either enjoyed being employed by her to much or something much deeper then that. Either way, you simply sat there, not possessing the energy to do anything, needing a push, or hopefully some reassuring news about what had happened to Hera.

[tlo]

=>

You are now the crazy one, and you sigh, setting down the bin of rocks you'd been rooting through. Nothing abnormal there you could Alchemize with your book. Maybe if you had uranium. But you don't have uranium. Well, you don't have it anymore. You used all of it not two weeks ago. Wait, what did you use it for? You can't even remember.

> Zealon: Go farm for some more Grist. You can't make things without grist.


You would go farm grist, but you already have an obscenely large amount of it. Seriously, the imps just kept on coming, and you just kept on dropping your book on them. Now they seemed sort of scared of you. Or, actually, starstruck might be a better word. Apparently they had some sort of scale of awesomeness set up that hinged on the heaviest objects you could drop. You sprite is still hovering behind you, jabbering incoherently. Well, it was probably coherent, but you were just ignoring it.

> Fine, whatever. Go check your computer, then. The wings.


You spin around, and sit at your computer desk. Which is redundant because you are now wearing your computer. There is a purple loading bar in the center of your vision, but it's only at 12%. That generic Jellybirdcube thing would take a while to break down, even with your computer skills.

> Huh. Yeah, that's gonna take a while. Go check on your friends.


You raise an eyebrow, which serves to both express your opinion and open the window that showed the highblood-killer's room. He was staring in a sort of dazed maner at his own screen, which was presumably server-playering Hera. Well then.

> Check on the human.


You were just about to, jeez. You raise your other eyebrow, and the window showing Hera's room appeared. Well, at least the window did. Otherwise it was just black and static. You smirk, and suppress a giggle.

> Woah. Morbid, kid. Calm down.


You refuse outright, and decide to start a conversation with Ayyate.

Show Pesterlog

Spoiler:

[BurdenKing]

Ayyate: Wait for orders.

You decide to continue sitting on your pile, having your drill embed itself into your enemies gut anytime an imp got the bright idea to get to close. The massive field of Grist and other materials was now so thick it served as a warning to the Imps at the power of the player before them. You briefly glance around, and couldn't help but smile at the multiple Imps that had gathered, some even fighting to not be forced to go in alone.

It doesn't last long, and you return to your Husk top, waiting for word from your employer. She totally wasn't dead, and you didn't want to get your pay cut just cause you lost contact with her and assume she died. You were her best employee after all.

Interrupting your little thought bubble, you received a message from the third, and apparently only other play left after the cluster fuck of a start your group had. You read the message.....then read it again....then read it a third time before your anger wells up at the gall of this guy. Were you a violent man, you would likely give the guy a new mouth to breath out of....in his spine.

But, you decide it's not worth the trouble if you're not getting a reward, so you decide to reply to him, only because he was the only other person from your planet left.

Show Pesterlog

Spoiler:

[tlo]

Show Pesterlog:

Spoiler:

Large portions of the information in that conversation just fell into your head while typing. But you are so sure they're true. A lot of your memory phases in and out of the real, remember-able.


The wings still are nowhere near being done. And the Imps still cower at your feet. But now you've found something that would give your book a good deal of power, with some tweaking.

> Zealon: Do something unorthodox.


You do so with pleasure. The item you've found is a lump of uranium, and if you've watched Scooby Doo then you know you can capture ghosts with that. You're pretty sureScooby Doo did that. So, you clatter back over to your computer desk and punch a key into the keyboard that's not actually connected to anything. It sends input to your hood, and in a mad flurry of facial manipulation you design some blueprints with Adobe Magic Blueprint-maker, which was pre-installed into your hoodie computer thing, along with Adobe Voodoo and Adobe Unicorn/Sockdroor Detector. Yuuup. Anyhow, you do that, and print it from the old Inkjet you keep in it's own Alcove of Shame downstairs. Don't ask.

> Zealon: Retrieve.


You slide down your ladder, and land next to the printer. It's.... Still churning. So.... Sloooow......

> ...


Oh, finally, done. You grab the page and stick it in your Sylladex, dashing to the Alchemeter which was now tricked out in every way possible and is totes boss.

> Make the ghost buster thing already.


You have no idea what the head demon is talking about. But you do it anyhow. You Alchemize (&&) the BLUEPRINT and URANIUM. You get...

GHOSTBUSTERS THING

You then proceed to take that and the BIG BOOK OF CRUXITE and Alchemize them (&&) to get...

ALLOYS MOST DUBIOUS, AND THEIR USES

It has a picture of a pale demon encased in an amber stone on the cover. It's eyes flicker, and a chill goes down your spine. Not... What you expected. But you Captchalogue it anyhow because you have no sense of self-preservation when it comes to things that should not be tampered with. You try (||), and get...

GHOST-POWERED NUCLEAR TOME
The sprite's eyes widen, but it keeps on talking anyhow.


That's what you wanted. It's basically a book made of iron spider legs with a hunk of uranium encased in glass on the spine, a metal cage with some spikes that look like they'd spark energy on the inside if they had a ghost trapped. It's only marginally a tome, as it has no pages, but hey. It's a rectangle. You shift it to your Strife Speccibus.

> Zealon: Bisect that mouse.


You don't. That's not how this thing works.

> Fine then. Do the thing.


You do so gladly. With a swift pirouette and a downward strike, you sink the book down too the sprite's midsection. It squeaks in terror, and the tome sucks it in. A new game abstraction appears; The Ectoplasteragage Meter. Ectoplasm will regenerate over time, but only marginally. It's best to absorb ghosts, specters, bogeymen, monsters-under-the-bed, night terrors, etc. The book glows a deep purple-red, and you feel the sprite wriggling in it's confines.

Peace at last. Now, to see if you can hurry those wings up. Your server player hadn't built high enough. Wait, what? Why would building high enough matter? Because a player needs to get to the first portal, located a long way above their dwelling. Your Lususprite had said that, and your subconscious had filed the information away. For a fleeting second you know that if you weren't stark raving mad, you'd be one of the greatest minds of the generation. But your brain makes you forget that quickly.

=>

[BurdenKing]

=> Ayyate: Get pissed

You most definitely do. Standing up from your pile of loot, which was completely usless until you recently got your motivation to continue. As you stood up, some of the newer imps that had arrived charged in, despite the pleading of their more experienced allies.

Your eyes flashed bright red as you turned around, a small line of red light leaving an after image as you turned so fast. With equal speed, you launched forward, shoving you drill bit into the mouth and through the back of the head of a imp. If it could make any indication of the pain, it definitely would have. Instead, you begin to use the imp as a weapon to beat back other imps trying to flank you, the spinning imp along with its tentacles making a shield the other imps were to shocked to bypass.

[GT]: =>>> COME ON! DIE LIKE THE REST OF THEM!

In a flash of red and steel, you charged into the biggest group of them, who retreate dinto a larger group of the more cowardly imps. With the combined numbers, they saw their tactical advantage, and charged. It was then a massive beam of light ripped their number in half, and you quickly finished the other.

You look to the sprite you had in your company, and how it was blasting off other imps as you faught. It didn't take a genius to figure out this wouldn't take to lo-oh, it's over.

With you new found breathing room, you set about making your new weaponry and junk, knowing you would need it for the late game. Not possessing much in the way of possessions, you fuse your Husk top with one of the pendants you hand lying around, then that piece of junk with a copy of your drill.

Soon, you had the Ice laden Drill top. You could do all the thing syou needed to do on your husk top on your drill. However, it wasn't enough. You proceaded to take bit sof your worm dad ectoskeleton, and then tossed it in with a semi living imp. Out came this gross abomination that you quickly culled. You then tried the alternate way, and created a small worm like creature that just wriggle don the floor. You quickly made several of these little creatures and then fused them all with your drill copies and improved it with some uranium.

The Drill worm swarm now was available, which were around a dozen little worms with drills for faces that could drill through things at alarming speed. And thanks to the uranium, they could cut through the tough as nails Imps way easier then he could. Of course, they were usless as crawlers, so you went to work. After a lot of failure, you found a way to make them fly by giving them jewelery wings mad eof gold. didn't make any sense, but they looked nice and could now fly. Some time later, and they became a new breed of eel like flying drill tentacles with a thirst for violence. These were called the Golden Drill worm murder Murder in this case being in relation to a large group of flying carrion feeder like the worms.

It was then simple enough to make your own drill, which after some time, came out to make the Jewel crusher Drill buster.

With all your loot prepared, you called the Murder to you, and hopped onto it, having them carry you upwards to the big hole in the sky.

=> Ayyate: accept the challenge

Gladly....
Show Pesterlog:

Spoiler:

[tlo]

=>

You smile at the other troll's antics, but ignore them. He could be deluded if he wanted. You just sit down on the Alchemiter. Which is a fabulous idea, by the way. The wings were at 42%.

> Zealon: Use your computer problem solving skills!


You whack yourself on the side of the head. And... Wow you're supprised that worked. 97%.

> Yes, that's how you fix computer problems. Whacking them.


You don't want any of the head demon's sarcasm, so you stand up slowly, marching to the Alchemiter's keyboard.

The wings are now at 99%..... 100.

SERAPHIM

Well, that was counter-intuitive. But you input the code anyhow, and step back as the machine whirrs and hums with strange energy. A flash, and there they are. A pair of wings, looking broken and skewed on the Alchemeter's platform. A demonic grin splits your features, and you captchalogue the wings.

You decide the wings need a bit of help, so you fuse it with the dubious alloys book, making the WINGS OF DUBIOUS INTENT. Which was not cheap. But very cool looking.

> Wear those sick wings. Be the rider.


No, no. With wings like these, one does not 'Ride'. One Flies.
You do, though, append them to your back. And... Ow, that hurt a lot. It was in no way expected, and sharp and brutal. Pain that does not come from holy things. Nay, not even from demonic things. This pain was Dubious. How interesting.

=>

Your grin only spreads wider, and your wings match that. You flap twice, experimentally, then cackle insanely, pointing your book at your wall. A beam of wine-shaded energy, and there was no longer a wall there, just open air. So you walk out, and slide to the side of your house, so the upper floors don's fall on top of you. Because you'd just toppled your house.

You whistle in a minor key, and fly upwards. The gate awaits, and you enter.

> Zealon. Wake up, kid. Kid. KIIID.


You lurch upward, and at first see nothing but shadow. But then, there's shapes, and you see sharp rocks. And moving shadows. How long were you out?

> Eh, ten seconds, give or take.


Well, that's not bad. But your surroundings don's look good. Very dark, sharp. Eeeh, scary too, if you want to be afraid. But you don't want to, not really. You kinda got stuff to do. You kick off from the stony ground, and fly.

> Be someone else.


You can't, because that someone else is nursing a headache. Just realized how messed up this session is, poor bloke.

> Be someone else else.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Be someone else else.

What? Did you expect those two men knew what they were talking about? Of course you weren't dead! You're too pretty and smart for that.

==> Hera: Wake up

Your eyes open, and you suddenly become bewildered. What the hell? You were in your Dream PJ's still... but you were already asleep how could your dreamself fall asleep without you waking up in 'the real world'? Certainly this did not make sense, to wake up as your dreamself a second time and not remember how you got to... wait, where was it your are in again?

You don't know.

Weren't you going to Neverland or something? Where did all your lovely dolls go? So sad. We were going to jail! It was going to be so fun.

==> Hera: Also wake up...

Okay something has gone horribly wrong here obviously.

You are up... both of you... at the same time... that doesn't just happen.

You have two instances of memory at the moment, one where you were CLEARLY high and getting drunkenly angry at your Client player. Then you were on Derse and found adorable little people that were dressed like you.

And now your memories were colliding into the present... from two perspectives. It was messing with your head man.

==> Hera: Say hi to Hera

You wave kinda... with a raised eyebrow and a frown. It was like looking in a mirror... except you could see out of the mirror too. It was giving you a headache.

==> Hera: Knock Hera out cold

Wam!

Much better.

You rub your eyes to simulate the feeling of waking up, since that really just fucked you bad. What was happening?

==> Look around

Darkness. Just darkness. It's almost like you'd been sucked up into an infinite void of some sort, but of course that must be impossible, after all, you could see yourself. Logically that should mean there is a light source somewhere right?

Suddenly everything was clear.

A shadow extended out into the infinite expanse as it was highlighted by a powerfully mysterious green glow. There were only two figures Hera knew that could possibly have done this just from the luminescence... and only one of them had an agenda...

You turn...

And...

==>

Spoiler:

[BurdenKing]

Ayyate: Punch a hole in reality

With a smirk, you stare at the at the ever shifting shape of the first gate, your eyes flashing red as your drill revved up in preparation for what lied ahead. Your Murder carried you high into the sky, you having set your alchemiter to automatically create more whenever you had enough grist. While you may eventually be out done by your enemies in terms of individual strength, a planet consuming swarm would be more than enough to fell any enemy that tried to stop you.

Already the swarm was growing, a 100 foot stream of them carrying you along towards the gate. They automatically would follow you, and this would help guide the newly built ones to find you, even if you were beyond this world.

Had he known that Hera was indeed alive, and not just hoped so, he would have checked into his boss to give her a heads up on his plan, but rage and denial kept him going as he plunged into the next world, and to his planet to begin whatever quest he would be required. Not that he knew at all what he would be doing there, as he had no knowledge what so ever on what the future would bring to him.

Though, the thought of destroying everything so his new rival would have no where to hide thrilled him to know end, as his baser trolls instincts began to flair widely. It made him ponder what he'd be like as a high blood, but he didn't have time to think of his own answer as a blinding light from the portal hit him, and he lost consciousness for a short time.

[tlo]

> Zealon: Raise the army of undead. Bring your brothers to your side.


Well, while that would be plenty epic, you don't have any undead-summoning tomes. And if you did, it might not even do anything because majjyk may or may not be real, it's undecided. Yup. The wings on your back might be Black Science. Which, by the way, sounds a whole lot cooler than black magic.

> Start your story, boy.


You decide that yes, the tale of this planet must be unraveled. So you step forward and fly upwards, gazing down as the landscape slowly shrinks below you. You spot mostly sharp rocks, but there is one thing- An obelisk of obsidian, obviously oppressive in its ominous objectivity. You glide over to it, and you see deep red markings etched into it, depicting eldritch monsters of enigmatic origin. The red is closer to crimson, though, and your skin craws collectively. The obsidian is darker, too, and death is depicted on it, its victim delicate in its demure delusions. The psychopomp was pictured prominently on a pale horse, perpetually phosphorescent on the plane of obsidian. It stood above a stairway, staring calmly on, stagnant breath almost substantial, as it stood alone.

> Hello, Zealon. It seems you've met your master.


You shiver and break into a cold sweat.

==>



{[I claim rights to 'Best Post,' unless either of you can do better :3]}

[BurdenKing]

(I'm a prince of space in this yeah?)

[tlo]

((.... Yes. Yes you are xD))

[BurdenKing]

==>Awaken My prince....

Ayyate shot up awake from the ground, finding himself in a tunnel of sorts. At first, he thought of the whole experience being a dream came to him, but a quick touch a feel revealed a sleeping murder he was sleeping on, and he smiled, remembering his goal in life now. He quickly stood, and snapped his fingers, His murder rising up around him like a school of minnows with their synchronized and graceful movements. It was then He heard a croak coming from the wall next to him. He had to let his eyes adjust back to how they were normally, thanking that he had developed a great level of night vision over his years of growing in tunnel systems.

His hand reached out, searching for a purchase where he could find the source of the croaking from the wall. He kept feeling around, until he felt a slimy substance coming from where the croaking was. After more time spent in the dark, he stared at the source with a raised eyebrow. What he saw was a slimy green like rock that releasing a croaking noise. He went to examine it closer, but when he accidentally broke off a chip of stone that was around the strange ore, in began to glow, and soon the whole tunnel was filled with glowing light originating from ore that was on the surface of the cave walls, croaks being heard all over.

Ayyate just stared at the display, then snapped his fingers. The Murder violently came to life, then launched forward into the wall to his left, tearing through the stone and removing the ore safely from the wall. The ore itself was noisy, but if he could figure it out, maybe he could use it in his jewelery making.

As his murder went about doing that, Ayyate walked forward and just began to explore, trying to map out the tunnel system he would no doubt have to deal with for the next while.

[duelingThoughts]

==> Be Daddy

You try to be the Daddy, but fail to be Daddy. No one can be Daddy except for Daddy.

Daddy shall now be known as FATHER, as that is much less demeaning in his opinion.

He is the prime officer of an unspeakable demon known as REDACTED. His job is to pave the way for the arrival of his controller, who will be summoned... Inevitably. He has worked at this task for many centuries, and finally, his task is upon the cusp of completion.

Father is Alternia's FIRST GUARDIAN. Every planet destined for intelligent life has such an entity meant to protect it, and facilitate the planet's ultimate purpose, in this case, the fruition of his REDACTED and the many Consorts of REDACTED. A first guardian is typically almost as old as the planet itself, and each has a unique, circuitous origin through the knots of paradox space. They can be born into a great diversity of forms, though they all share a common, especially potent genetic sequence. The code grants them near omnipotence, and when merged with a host of great intelligence, (such as a most prominent Troll and an All-knowing Cue Ball) near omniscience as well.

What will he do?

It's up to him. All we can do is stand here.

And watch.

==>

What's he up to now? Hard to say since we're not telling him what to do. Guardians can never be told what to do. Neither the omnipotent kind, nor the ordinary kind who raise kids in houses. It's a universal law of reality.

You begin to feel that you’ve read something like this before, almost as if this “Father” figure (pun) is an alternative version of a much more prominent, much more popular and arguably more “real” version of something else. Obviously since you have no access to the fourth, fifth, or sixth walls you have no idea what that version could be like, and thus you must assume that this “version” is the only one of its kind is utterly unique and not at all literally stolen from.

But enough of technicalities, because at best, this liberal “borrowing” (stealing) of words has been stated to be owned somewhere else… perhaps described as belonging to a particular orange person obsessed with marrying a random spider-trollian girl, who currently is having his heart broken as he watches her smooch up an alternative younger spunkier version of the Alternian Empress, and also who will not have his Andrew(vian) Hussie(n) name be revealed as it is much too complicated to do so without going into a tangent.

Damn.

While we were tangenting, it seems that Father has teleported somewhere…

==>

What’s this? It appears he is contacting someone…

And by contact…

You really mean you just watch him murder a player in the midst of some sort of demonic computer troubles, as she popped open her Cruxtruder with the sprite inside.

He disappears again! This time with the sprite as well…

A nuclear explosion wrecks the place moments afterwards as we transition to the next location of our elusive query…

==>

Damn! He just teleported again, and much like the last incident, another player is dead, and their sprite lost…

Quickly! Before we get distracted by that oncoming nuclear explosion and miss what happens next!

==>

Damn the nuclear explosions…

Half the players are now dead, and their sprites missing, with only three remaining, and one entering the medium just in time.

A session meant for six was instantly transformed, and changed the rules of the game. Hacked even, in more than one ways. Hacked in such a way that certain rules about engagement in the Black and White kingdoms shifted for an outcome that wasn’t supposed to happen at all until the Players joined the picture. But hacking into a game that contains omniscience pieces usually leads to unusual… and doom-inducing outcomes.

The game was changed by a player, but before the revision was made, there was a piece that knew of the circumstances that would allow certain things. Thus he was prepared, and he had become the extra pawn of the Black Kingdom that immediately set these events in motion.

It was amazing what simply appearing could do to an entire timeline.

Essentially, that is all Father has done.

He has always been there for the children.

==> Damn it! Side tracked again…

Let’s shift over to our “current” (NOTE: NOT CURRENT) situation.

==> Be Father

You once again try to be Father, and fail spectacularly. You can't be him no matter how hard you try. It is impossible.

[In fact, I am commandeering the narrative completely for a while. I trust you won't mind if I speak in frustrating dark grey. It's not negotiable. However, I will enclose my words between a pair of visually audible brackets, so you can understand more clearly. I know how much you struggle with that.

I am doing this because its for your own good.]

>0|

[Just kidding. I’ve pre-emptively decided to withhold my part of the story on part of your poor behavior, as pre-emptive punishment. So go cry in a corner until you calm down, and are ready to return to civilized society.

Act your age please, for heaven's sake children.]

[tlo]

> Yes, yes, I've finally found it, haven't I? You were an hard egg to crack, Zealon. Your mind is riddles with mazes and insubstantialities- You hardly fear anything. Though obvious, Death has hardly the prominence this day and age, don't you think? Pestilence is on the undertake, and murder just isn't as judicially overlooked. Nobody fears it but the wise ones. I dare say it's a good choice for your single fear, mm?


Zealon could do very little but stare blankly at the stone spire. Which he did.

> Ah, indeed. You're immobilized by magical fear. But my job as a psychopomp isn't to badger you-it's to lead you. I have a door, see? You must enter. To do this you must

Change the Haunt of Fear.

And you wonder how you do, don't you? Well, there is a Single Sacred Urn.


Zealon's eyes dilated, and he abruptly fell to the earth.

-=>

[BurdenKing]

My Prince: Begin your divine work.

Ayyate surfed on through the tunnels of his world, a pair of goggle on his head that allowed him to see the entire tunnel network he ha dbeen working on, and figure out which tunnel was the quickest to use. His murder swarmed and writhed underneath him, pushing him along at high speeds as they held to his legs to keep him stable. He held up the frog gem he had decided would be his next project, unsure of what it was meant for. He deducted it was something for the game, but he couldn't figure out if it was important or if it was just a low level drop. Any attempts to cut the stone lead to the frog inside dieing, and for some reason he had the feeling that was a bad thing to do.

He tossed the stone aside, refocusing as he came charging up on a group of those weird goblin things. Their golden masks and their tentacles were ready for him, but they weren't ready for his murder, Letting out a blood thirsty laugh, he sank into his murder, and was gently placed down as it flew forward, consuming and deconstructing the enemies. As they died, their drops were brought to Ayyate, which flew off to wherever they did for storage. With a bored sigh, he decided he'd likely leave this world soon, and head off to the next so he could try finding some higher level mobs to farm. His Murder cloud was growing, but it wasn't growing fast enough.

Then, a feeling of grief hit him as he thought about his boss, and he began to wonder if she really was dead. He opened up his portable device, and brought up his Boss on Trollian.

Chat log:

[duelingThoughts]

==> And...

It's a laptop.

You certainly were not expect that. You felt certain that some bad ass monster from the deep end, of whom you called your Daddy would certainly be there, standing and waiting to...

... do what exactly?

Maybe explain this mess. You look over to your unconscious dream self and ponder the complexities of the universe, and then decided that was dumb as shit. You look back to the laptop.

==> Hera: Observe.

You observe the laptop, and it definitely has a green glow eerily reminiscent of GOwl's and what you've always assumed Daddy to possess for no real discernable reason. It appears to be some sort of... work computer. Do First Guardians have to work?

You shrug, but then realize suddenly it had a message inscribed directly onto the screen.

DEMONESS

Weird. You try to ignore it, but it certainly captivates your attention. Fortunately, a familiar face decides to start Trollian... only you only now realize that you do not have your computer and its holographic displays any more.

Hmm.

It was on the creepy "DEMONESS" computer... in fact... it appears every conversation you've ever had was on here. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the need to throw up.

How creepy as shit is that? Again you attempt to ignore it.

==> You successfully ignore it.

A smile appears on your face when you realize it's Ayyate. Oh you magnificent troll, you say. Before he even gets the chance to make the first move on you, you jump right in there and get straight to that sexy action...

...err you mean, the action. Oh damn it, too late. Snooze you lose sister.

Immediately you fill him in.

Chat log:

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