IC Downpour

[Vella]

Ossea

"Yeap. After all, I am an engineer-in-training and a tinkerer by nature!" Ossea is enthusiastic, even thrilled to hear the AI asking her about this. The Avali grabs anything that could be used in the future to tinker with the next gun she may find. Perhaps even tinker with this one right now to see how well she's able to restore it as a challenge.

 

[Banana_=P]

Ossea

"Yeap. After all, I am an engineer-in-training and a tinkerer by nature!" Ossea is enthusiastic, even thrilled to hear the AI asking her about this. The Avali grabs anything that could be used in the future to tinker with the next gun she may find. Perhaps even tinker with this one right now to see how well she's able to restore it as a challenge.

"...I could show you to the lab here."

 

[Vella]

Ossea

"Why the not!" She is enthusiastic, and provided the AI gives her the directions, she promptly sprints towards the lab.

Trachea

Chryssy's hive. She's the one to raise us all, and She's the one who I shall always take orders from. Also, it's full of Changelings like I am.

 

[Xal.]

Trachea

The Changeling solemnly nods. "Ssso..." They freeze for a moment, trying to compare it to anything they know about. Nope, nothing. "...I can't think of equalsss that are sssame as them. That's new then. If thiss usess 'Coral'... how advanced is it compared to steam?" At least she knows steam machines exist because ponies.

Pax gives a little chuckle.

“Khh khh..”

“Oh.. you are serious. Well, I think you’d find comparing Coral to steam based technologies is like comparing an automatic rifle to an old shovel. They both can prove incredibly useful, but one can do far more with far less effort.”

Pax begins putting his tools away.

In front of him, a little machine, about 2 feet tall, thick rusty plates sprinkled amidst black armor, familiar to the soldiers within the laboratory, some sort of weapon, seemingly from the same armored figures, is projected from one of their small, three-fingered arm’s wrist. The machine has digitigrade legs with thick pistons coated in armor. Its head is long and rectangular, essentially the same as before, but minimized, thick plates along the top and sides. A large glass lens sits on the front, scratched and worn, slightly yellowed from time. Pax picks the little thing up as he stands, carrying it over to, and dropping it upon the pile of Coral that constituted Conquest’s old body.

As he lets the machine lie there, Coral slowly seeping into its frame from
The pile, he goes back to his pack, scooping up some of the scraps left, unplugging and placing his tools within, then closing the pack, slinging it across his back with a quiet click.

He then looks at the machine, waiting for it to begin moving.

 

[Orchamut]

"...Talk to the cyborg and horse just outside the cave..."

"What? Who said that?"

"...How long do you intend to look around, Akkith?"

"I'm not in any hurry to leave, it's cold and unwelcoming outside."

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

...For one, he was previously following Ghurux or Zykaya, who by now have entered the cave to the north of the clearing, currently face to face with a weird white barrier walling off a path northwards. Now, he could just be here, or he could walk southeast...

Risbit walks southeast.

 

[Vella]

Trachea

The Changeling appears to be... pretty alright with explanation, but still questions some things. "Can the rifle do what a shovel can?" All while she also awaits for the construct to animate, in her bug eyes and mind.

 

[Banana_=P]

Ossea

"Why the not!" She is enthusiastic, and provided the AI gives her the directions, she promptly sprints towards the lab.

"Follow the lights on the floor then."
And through the hallway she'd go, heading past the central computer room to enter the main hall leading towards the runnel...before hanging a right at the door.
...
That's taking a second to open. It's opening, just a bit rusted...
"..Sorry about the door."
...Should be open large enough for the Avali to squeeze through aaaany second now. Or they could just wait until the door fully opens.

"I'm not in any hurry to leave, it's cold and unwelcoming outside."

"...That is fair."
"..."
"These facilities..."

The tribesman twists, effortlessly throwing the trooper to the ground. However, the trooper, regaining their momentum, does a sweep kick that trips up the other tribesman, knocking them down as well as the trooper gets up and on their feet, tagging the tribesman's body with their arm blaster.
Tribesman: "..Not bad..."
Trooper: "...You got all that, Keith?"
Cameraman: "Yeah!"

Trachea

Chryssy's hive. She's the one to raise us all, and She's the one who I shall always take orders from. Also, it's full of Changelings like I am.

<<Ah...I see...>>
<<Changelings like you, huh?>>

Pax gives a little chuckle.

“Khh khh..”

“Oh.. you are serious. Well, I think you’d find comparing Coral to steam based technologies is like comparing an automatic rifle to an old shovel. They both can prove incredibly useful, but one can do far more with far less effort.”

Pax begins putting his tools away.

In front of him, a little machine, about 2 feet tall, thick rusty plates sprinkled amidst black armor, familiar to the soldiers within the laboratory, some sort of weapon, seemingly from the same armored figures, is projected from one of their small, three-fingered arm’s wrist. The machine has digitigrade legs with thick pistons coated in armor. Its head is long and rectangular, essentially the same as before, but minimized, thick plates along the top and sides. A large glass lens sits on the front, scratched and worn, slightly yellowed from time. Pax picks the little thing up as he stands, carrying it over to, and dropping it upon the pile of Coral that constituted Conquest’s old body.

As he lets the machine lie there, Coral slowly seeping into its frame from
The pile, he goes back to his pack, scooping up some of the scraps left, unplugging and placing his tools within, then closing the pack, slinging it across his back with a quiet click.

He then looks at the machine, waiting for it to begin moving.

<<...I take it the pile of the Coral you coaxed inside the frame is therefore...your brother?>>

Risbit walks southeast.

...And into the forest he goes.

...The forest is quiet...
The feeling he's being watched is practically stabbing into his body from all directions now. He can practically smell hostility, as if a thousand guns were trained on him.
But there's nothing there. Just trees, branches shaking lazily in the calmness of the day, disturbed by faint winds...
...
Is that a growl he just heard?

 

[Vella]

Trachea

The Changeling nods mentally. Yes. I'm just a lowly worker in the grand scheme. She appears to be proud of this, however. As if she knew her place.

Ossea

As much as she wants to enter it right now, she waits since she feels the rifle wouldn't make it if the door closes suddenly. And once it's fully open, she enters. Not earlier, not later. "I think this one needed more oil to keep it from rusting."

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

...And into the forest he goes.

...The forest is quiet...
The feeling he's being watched is practically stabbing into his body from all directions now. He can practically smell hostility, as if a thousand guns were trained on him.
But there's nothing there. Just trees, branches shaking lazily in the calmness of the day, disturbed by faint winds...
...
Is that a growl he just heard?

Risbit hears the growl. Risbit doesn't care and keeps walking, before punching himself in the gut, causing a cracking sound, before walking away like he didn't do anything.

 

[Xal.]

Trachea

The Changeling appears to be... pretty alright with explanation, but still questions some things. "Can the rifle do what a shovel can?" All while she also awaits for the construct to animate, in her bug eyes and mind.

"The rifle scares one into digging for you, no shovel needed. The rifle grants you the power of death with the simple pulse of a trigger, that is the most power anyone can ever hope to hold, the power of fear, realizing that your life is not in your own hands, but the whims of another."

<<...I take it the pile of the Coral you coaxed inside the frame is therefore...your brother?>>

"Yes, my brother, born of the same Coral strain as I."

The tiny machine shudders a few times as more Coral seeps into its frame, head sparking a bit as its empty oculus flickers with a few flares of red, growing dark again.

"Any moment now."

 

[Orchamut]

"...That is fair."
"..."
"These facilities..."

The tribesman twists, effortlessly throwing the trooper to the ground. However, the trooper, regaining their momentum, does a sweep kick that trips up the other tribesman, knocking them down as well as the trooper gets up and on their feet, tagging the tribesman's body with their arm blaster.
Tribesman: "..Not bad..."
Trooper: "...You got all that, Keith?"
Cameraman: "Yeah!"

"Do you know if anyone still lives around here outside this place?"

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

Risbit continues walking.
This reminds me of the time i literally woke up from death.

 

[Vella]

Trachea

Think it's better compared to draining a hapless bypasser dry of love. Seems like the explanation got in her head. "A lot more power, if a single trigger is what is needed compared to swarming a victim to do it fast or raining them dry as it would take multiple days." She looks at the robot, awaiting them to animate (or in modern terms that Trachea doesn't really understand, boot up.)

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

...How old am I again?

 

[Banana_=P]

Risbit hears the growl. Risbit doesn't care and keeps walking, before punching himself in the gut, causing a cracking sound, before walking away like he didn't do anything.

Risbit continues walking.
This reminds me of the time i literally woke up from death.

...How old am I again?

...Not sure who he's talking to, but he certainly does get an answer.

In the form of a white blur pouncing on him from his right, trying to pin him to the ground.

[No RNG here, so just don't powerplay, mkay?]

Trachea

The Changeling nods mentally. Yes. I'm just a lowly worker in the grand scheme. She appears to be proud of this, however. As if she knew her place.

<<...Hm. Alright.>>

"The rifle scares one into digging for you, no shovel needed. The rifle grants you the power of death with the simple pulse of a trigger, that is the most power anyone can ever hope to hold, the power of fear, realizing that your life is not in your own hands, but the whims of another."
"Yes, my brother, born of the same Coral strain as I."

The tiny machine shudders a few times as more Coral seeps into its frame, head sparking a bit as its empty oculus flickers with a few flares of red, growing dark again.

"Any moment now."

Pax can almost feel a feeling of intrigue...not his own, but from the part of Memura inside him...

"Do you know if anyone still lives around here outside this place?"

"...I would not possess such knowledge."

The recording seems to be finished now...

Ossea

As much as she wants to enter it right now, she waits since she feels the rifle wouldn't make it if the door closes suddenly. And once it's fully open, she enters. Not earlier, not later. "I think this one needed more oil to keep it from rusting."

...It's dark.

And looks to be in a state of severe disrepair. Shelves seem to have collapsed, and as the lights flicker on, some broken probably from age. There's tools here though, hammers and wrenches and nuts and bolts and screwdrivers. Wow it's a tinkerer's dream...if terribly disorganised. Might have something to do with the - *still awful, rancid smelling bodies* littered around here...

Oh hey, there's an intact counter though, seems as if it's designed to be a worktable. For engineering tools. Seems a good place for fixing up the rifle. Maybe if Ossea grabbed some tools and materials...gotta be some spare sheets of metal somewhere...

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

...Not sure who he's talking to, but he certainly does get an answer.

In the form of a white blur pouncing on him from his right, trying to pin him to the ground.

[No RNG here, so just don't powerplay, mkay?]

Risbit looks over at the white fella.
Risbit grabs them and pulls them off of him softly, before putting the creature on the ground gently before walking off.

 

[Vella]

Ossea

The Avali... decides that it would be better idea to grab some cloth to make makeshift mask to not feel this nauseous in her workplace. Then, she attempts to dispose of bodies the best she could - either dragging them, then putting them somewhere in a container or into a corner. And only then Ossea grabs as many materials and tools as she thinks would be of use tinkering with the rifle she has found.

((After all, corpse sickness is a bad thing, whether in Project Zomboid or Downpour))

 

[Im_ConfuzzledCobalt🥐🌳🐿]

Risbit continues walking.
He may not speak much, but he's clearly thinking.
A lot.
His thoughts are his only comfort as he questions his immortality.

 

[Banana_=P]

Risbit looks over at the white fella.
Risbit grabs them and pulls them off of him softly, before putting the creature on the ground gently before walking off.

Risbit continues walking.
He may not speak much, but he's clearly thinking.
A lot.
His thoughts are his only comfort as he questions his immortality.

...Well, that would've worked. If it wasn't something as large as an actual wolf. Larger than usual too, almost as big as an actual motorcycle...
Instead, it pins him to the ground, preventing him from moving.
...
It seems to look over Risbit, trying to assess them, perhaps...? It's faceless though...

(Best to wait next time. For my response.)