- Last Seen: 2 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: Antarctic Termite
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 3688 (0.81 / day)
- VMs: 1
-
Username history
- Antarctic Termite 12 yrs ago
-
Latest 10 profile visitors:
-
Most recent →
Vec,
Timemaster
Status
Recent Statuses
8 yrs ago
Current
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
1
like
8 yrs ago
If you're not trying to romance the Pokemon, what's the fucking point?
7
likes
8 yrs ago
Can't help but read 'woah' as a regular 'wuh', but 'whoa' as a deep, masculine 'HOO-AH!'
1
like
8 yrs ago
That's patently untrue. I planted some potassium the other day, and no matter how much I watered it, all I got was explosions.
2
likes
9 yrs ago
on holiday for five days. if you need me, toss a rock into the fuckin' desert and I'll whisper in your dreams
3
likes
Bio
According to the IRC, I'm a low-grade troll. They're probably not wrong.
Most Recent Posts
Ayem couldn't grip Mary's hand any tighter, for fear of her own knives. But for a moment, she wanted to.
...
Well, she's a certain kind of practical, ran the thought a few minutes later as Mary justified her purchase. "Here, I can't-"
But clearly, somebody could.
"...Pay for that," finished Ayem, her lips moving without any real sound. The tension was back, but this time it was a different kind. Ayem hadn't had access to the oligarchy's wealth for some time now, but she'd been a mercenary long enough to recognise what lay behind the words 'private security'.
Corporates. 'I gotta chase after her,' Mary had said. And she'd pulled a knife...
Ayem had spaced out and it took a second for her eyes to focus back on the little fumigator, who was rapidly sending the value of the property into freefall. "Oh. Yes. I have one, actually. You can come with me. Um..." The Q1-2 wasn't an interstellar vehicle, but Ayem was only passing through Frixion, anyway. And it felt dangerous to leave behind a child she'd made a promise to.
...Dangerous. Yes. That was it.
"I don't know," admitted Ayem before she could fall back into spaciness. "We needed... Food? Lots of food." She looked up abruptly. "Oh! We're in the right place, too. Alright, food."
Ayem didn't particularly trust Mary with buying food. They wouldn't need it on an FTL liner, but left to her own devices, she had a feeling Mary would just buy herself a hundred sugar straws or something. "I think this place does sugared mango. Want some?"
She started tapping keys. "Corn chips too. And salsa." And a toothbrush. "And some drinks. Do you like bubble tea..?"
They were there for a while.
...
Well, she's a certain kind of practical, ran the thought a few minutes later as Mary justified her purchase. "Here, I can't-"
But clearly, somebody could.
"...Pay for that," finished Ayem, her lips moving without any real sound. The tension was back, but this time it was a different kind. Ayem hadn't had access to the oligarchy's wealth for some time now, but she'd been a mercenary long enough to recognise what lay behind the words 'private security'.
Corporates. 'I gotta chase after her,' Mary had said. And she'd pulled a knife...
Ayem had spaced out and it took a second for her eyes to focus back on the little fumigator, who was rapidly sending the value of the property into freefall. "Oh. Yes. I have one, actually. You can come with me. Um..." The Q1-2 wasn't an interstellar vehicle, but Ayem was only passing through Frixion, anyway. And it felt dangerous to leave behind a child she'd made a promise to.
...Dangerous. Yes. That was it.
"I don't know," admitted Ayem before she could fall back into spaciness. "We needed... Food? Lots of food." She looked up abruptly. "Oh! We're in the right place, too. Alright, food."
Ayem didn't particularly trust Mary with buying food. They wouldn't need it on an FTL liner, but left to her own devices, she had a feeling Mary would just buy herself a hundred sugar straws or something. "I think this place does sugared mango. Want some?"
She started tapping keys. "Corn chips too. And salsa." And a toothbrush. "And some drinks. Do you like bubble tea..?"
They were there for a while.
@SIGINT CAR WASH THE CHILD
The corners of Ayem's mouth went back to their usual little peaks. Pointy though she was, Mary had her charms. Ayem wondered who the girl's absent lamb might be. Words meant things, sometimes.
"Alright, let's get food," she conceded. "And a... Flying thingy. But you definitely need more than two things," Ayem added quickly, suddenly on her feet again the moment Mary came close enough to hold on. She could only take so much from up close, and Mary's breath made her seriously consider the prospect of having just picked up a young dragon.
Ayem would have thrown the girl into the river if she could, but she didn't have the upper body strength and she doubted it would help, anyway. What Mary needed was an industrial steam bath. Or at least a carwash.
...Yes, a carwash. Hmmm.
"You need new clothes," said the tall lady promptly, leading Mary down the street with her index finger. She'd passed a groceries fabricator somewhere not far from here and Mary seemed quite capable of keeping up on her little legs. "And... Whatever pills you take. And a bath. Because if we find a bunny on the way, we want to be its friend, and bunnies like clean, healthy girls."
Ayem caught a glance.
"...But okay, candy first," she appended in haste. A glass door slid open before them, and suddenly they were in the white light wash of a modern supermarket.
Screens flickered their catalogs, and the giant printers' buzz was soon nothing but background noise.
"Alright, let's get food," she conceded. "And a... Flying thingy. But you definitely need more than two things," Ayem added quickly, suddenly on her feet again the moment Mary came close enough to hold on. She could only take so much from up close, and Mary's breath made her seriously consider the prospect of having just picked up a young dragon.
Ayem would have thrown the girl into the river if she could, but she didn't have the upper body strength and she doubted it would help, anyway. What Mary needed was an industrial steam bath. Or at least a carwash.
...Yes, a carwash. Hmmm.
"You need new clothes," said the tall lady promptly, leading Mary down the street with her index finger. She'd passed a groceries fabricator somewhere not far from here and Mary seemed quite capable of keeping up on her little legs. "And... Whatever pills you take. And a bath. Because if we find a bunny on the way, we want to be its friend, and bunnies like clean, healthy girls."
Ayem caught a glance.
"...But okay, candy first," she appended in haste. A glass door slid open before them, and suddenly they were in the white light wash of a modern supermarket.
Screens flickered their catalogs, and the giant printers' buzz was soon nothing but background noise.
So, everyone, about the Xerxes fight.
Since things have been going at a bit of a plod, and we want to avoid a repeat of the drawn-out event that was Stand, we're coming up with a list of critical points that may be relevant later on in the chronology. We've been bantering about this for so long now that we might as well write the summary before we do the actual posts, anyway.
This is here so that characters that need to can move on. Parts of the battle will still probably be written as a collab, though there's no real estimate for when. Specific details that were relevant to the characters that were there, but don't need to be collaborated, can now be dealt with as individual flashbacks.
It's probably a growing list, though! Drop a note with a bunch of tags if you need the all-clear on anything.
It's a little Tauga-centric because, y'know, that's the character I have the clearest sense of direction for, but I hope it helps.
My own stories that were waiting on this point- Jvan's resurrection, Tauga's life after Xerxes, Tira's travels, et cetera will start to take place now.
Since things have been going at a bit of a plod, and we want to avoid a repeat of the drawn-out event that was Stand, we're coming up with a list of critical points that may be relevant later on in the chronology. We've been bantering about this for so long now that we might as well write the summary before we do the actual posts, anyway.
This is here so that characters that need to can move on. Parts of the battle will still probably be written as a collab, though there's no real estimate for when. Specific details that were relevant to the characters that were there, but don't need to be collaborated, can now be dealt with as individual flashbacks.
It's probably a growing list, though! Drop a note with a bunch of tags if you need the all-clear on anything.
It's a little Tauga-centric because, y'know, that's the character I have the clearest sense of direction for, but I hope it helps.
My own stories that were waiting on this point- Jvan's resurrection, Tauga's life after Xerxes, Tira's travels, et cetera will start to take place now.
It didn't even occur to Ayem to ask 'why'. Spirits did what they did, and what they did was weird.
"I... Hold on. I-" She gave up trying to match the little girl's pace of speech. Patience came easily, and she had at least some idea of how to handle kids. A fair number of her lovers had been mothers.
"I don't know where she went," she said simply over a rattling chain of 'gotta's. It didn't feel like lying, really. There were plenty of bespectacled teenagers in Frixion. "She's probably far away, so you have to get-"
The mood dipped sharply and rose again. Ayem's claws disappeared under her fingertips, then surged back as her hands fell away. To show her, yes, but there was an old, hardened instinct that told her when it was time to be sharp...
'-wanna cut off my fingers and replace them with kniv-'
"No!"
Ayem's eyes flew wide and she did something she rarely did: yell. It wasn't a loud yell, or a particularly sharp one. She wasn't much of a yeller. But it took her by surprise. "These hands are very old," she explained, thinking quickly. "There aren't any left over. And mine are... Too big. They're at least ten sizes up from you. See?"
The talltall lady crouched on her feet, putting her at least somewhere near Mary's height. It was a good position to jump from, if she had to. Ayem bit her tongue as she rolled back her sleeves- She'd let her guard down too easily. A 'little girl' like this could well be preying on her instincts.
"See, if these were on you, they'd drag around and get in the way," she explained, splaying ten black points. "And, you can't throw them. That's why most people have knives in hands instead of knife hands."
Ayem met the cherub's eyes again. The claws sat between them, maybe welcoming, maybe a barrier. She could feel the chill running through them already. "So, what's your name?" she asked at last. "I'm Ayem. A-M. Like the morning."
@SIGINT
"I... Hold on. I-" She gave up trying to match the little girl's pace of speech. Patience came easily, and she had at least some idea of how to handle kids. A fair number of her lovers had been mothers.
"I don't know where she went," she said simply over a rattling chain of 'gotta's. It didn't feel like lying, really. There were plenty of bespectacled teenagers in Frixion. "She's probably far away, so you have to get-"
The mood dipped sharply and rose again. Ayem's claws disappeared under her fingertips, then surged back as her hands fell away. To show her, yes, but there was an old, hardened instinct that told her when it was time to be sharp...
'-wanna cut off my fingers and replace them with kniv-'
"No!"
Ayem's eyes flew wide and she did something she rarely did: yell. It wasn't a loud yell, or a particularly sharp one. She wasn't much of a yeller. But it took her by surprise. "These hands are very old," she explained, thinking quickly. "There aren't any left over. And mine are... Too big. They're at least ten sizes up from you. See?"
The talltall lady crouched on her feet, putting her at least somewhere near Mary's height. It was a good position to jump from, if she had to. Ayem bit her tongue as she rolled back her sleeves- She'd let her guard down too easily. A 'little girl' like this could well be preying on her instincts.
"See, if these were on you, they'd drag around and get in the way," she explained, splaying ten black points. "And, you can't throw them. That's why most people have knives in hands instead of knife hands."
Ayem met the cherub's eyes again. The claws sat between them, maybe welcoming, maybe a barrier. She could feel the chill running through them already. "So, what's your name?" she asked at last. "I'm Ayem. A-M. Like the morning."
@SIGINT
AMBIENT
1-Metera Tech
2-Marquisate Tech
3-BURN THE BRIDGE
4-Receivers
5-Detection?
6-Urtelem martial art?
7-Hot Planet
8-Cold Planet
OVAEDIS
1-Isonymph
2-Isonymph
3-Isonymph
4-Isonymph
5-Metera
Metera Tech- Treadmill Crane, Horse Collar, Silk, Paragliding
Marquisate Synth-
G-Awaken
G-Burn the Bridge
S-Isonymph
G-Quake
S-Metera
S-Planet 1
G-Metera Completed
S-Planet 2
G-Fractals
S-Isonymph
G-Receivers
G-Receivers Story
G-Lambda
--
Lambda
Receivers
1-Metera Tech
2-Marquisate Tech
3-BURN THE BRIDGE
4-Receivers
5-Detection?
6-Urtelem martial art?
7-Hot Planet
8-Cold Planet
OVAEDIS
1-Isonymph
2-Isonymph
3-Isonymph
4-Isonymph
5-Metera
Metera Tech- Treadmill Crane, Horse Collar, Silk, Paragliding
Marquisate Synth-
G-Awaken
G-Burn the Bridge
S-Isonymph
G-Quake
S-Metera
S-Planet 1
G-Metera Completed
S-Planet 2
G-Fractals
S-Isonymph
G-Receivers
G-Receivers Story
G-Lambda
--
Lambda
Receivers
...But, somehow, it did.
The lady who was part skyscraper blinked. She squinted at the signpost. She squinted at the air sitting between her and the signpost. There was definitely something off about that air. And there was definitely, definitely something off about that signpost.
She touched her nose with a warmly gloved hand. Oh. So that was the air. Then what was the deal with the signpost..?
"Heph yooph!!" said the signpost.
Ayem blinked again. She was not thinking straight today. Or at least she didn't think she was. She had no way of telling.
"Hey! Hey you! Have you seen this person!?"
Actually, that didn't sound like a signpost voice at all. Ayem flipped back her hoodie, tapped her headphones, and looked down.
Oh, thought Ayem, forgetting the post entirely. That's the smell.
"...say that you've seen her? Pretty please!"
Ayem took one look at the paper and said, "Yeah, sure." She didn't know why. She didn't think about it either. She was looking at the girl.
She'd already tensed, moved one foot just a little way back. Fake skin tingled in rings around her forearm. It was never a good idea to ignore a spirit. It was never a good idea to stop and listen. A motorised heart whirred just a little faster in its metal cage.
On a not-yet-desolate street at a not-yet-desolate hour, a ghost and a cherub met eyes. The pair above was black, the pair below bright red. A strong... aura... radiated from the little creature, who otherwise seemed at least sixty per cent human. The many things that might make her seem otherwise were hidden under her hoodie, just like Ayem's were hidden in hers.
"Umm." Taking the paper in her fingertips, letting just enough metal through that she wouldn't have to actually touch it, Ayem put a knuckle to her lips and simultaneously suppressed a giggle and an oh, no. If there was a chance to turn back before, it was gone now. "I'm not really sure. She could be anywhere." She looked back at the cherub, who probably weighed as much as an over-full shopping bag. Less, maybe. "Do you... Know how you're going to get to her?"
The lady who was part skyscraper blinked. She squinted at the signpost. She squinted at the air sitting between her and the signpost. There was definitely something off about that air. And there was definitely, definitely something off about that signpost.
She touched her nose with a warmly gloved hand. Oh. So that was the air. Then what was the deal with the signpost..?
"Heph yooph!!" said the signpost.
Ayem blinked again. She was not thinking straight today. Or at least she didn't think she was. She had no way of telling.
"Hey! Hey you! Have you seen this person!?"
Actually, that didn't sound like a signpost voice at all. Ayem flipped back her hoodie, tapped her headphones, and looked down.
Oh, thought Ayem, forgetting the post entirely. That's the smell.
"...say that you've seen her? Pretty please!"
Ayem took one look at the paper and said, "Yeah, sure." She didn't know why. She didn't think about it either. She was looking at the girl.
She'd already tensed, moved one foot just a little way back. Fake skin tingled in rings around her forearm. It was never a good idea to ignore a spirit. It was never a good idea to stop and listen. A motorised heart whirred just a little faster in its metal cage.
On a not-yet-desolate street at a not-yet-desolate hour, a ghost and a cherub met eyes. The pair above was black, the pair below bright red. A strong... aura... radiated from the little creature, who otherwise seemed at least sixty per cent human. The many things that might make her seem otherwise were hidden under her hoodie, just like Ayem's were hidden in hers.
"Umm." Taking the paper in her fingertips, letting just enough metal through that she wouldn't have to actually touch it, Ayem put a knuckle to her lips and simultaneously suppressed a giggle and an oh, no. If there was a chance to turn back before, it was gone now. "I'm not really sure. She could be anywhere." She looked back at the cherub, who probably weighed as much as an over-full shopping bag. Less, maybe. "Do you... Know how you're going to get to her?"
If it looks like a goblin, smells like a goblin, and talks like an Australian trucker, it's probably your local literal tech wizard, Virgil Smithereen.
"...both the locals and the environment. I will need capable escorts. Who will be j-"
A long, sharp object that may have been the tip of a bayonet smashed through the loudspeaker, followed by a long groan: 'Oh fuuuck oooooffffff.'
Flak Macaque's head reappeared from under his forearms, eyes shut tight as a fat ailing sixty-year-old man's shirt buttons. Without turning on the light, he slapped his alarm clock into the corner, fumbled for a long stick of rebar, smacked Heidi's power button and lumbered into the hallway, a huge jug of cold espresso in his paw.
It was empty by the time he made it to the roof.
Shading his eyes with a long palm, Flak Macaque sat on his butt, as monkeys tend to do. Somewhere below him, a gang of reptilian thugs stomped up a storm. He licked the rim of the pitcher as if wishing for a final taste to soothe his passage into Morning Hell, then hung it on one finger and let it fall.
Bump, bump, tumble it rolled down the side of the ship and onto the ground below, where it was met with yelling.
"Ya know, you'd have more luck if ya just formed a union," offered Flak Macaque dejectedly. "Like seriously, have you fellas even heard of conformance to stereotype? I swear I caught one of you saying 'big metal bird' just now, like fuck off."
There was a sheepish pause.
"...I was being ironic," muttered a lizardy voice.
Yeah, yeah, thought Flak Macaque. Heidi waved a metal strut to the crowd.
"Dude, though," continued the kobold, clearly trying to make up for her embarrassment at being called out. "It's a UFP core world, we see spacecraft all the time. We were kidding."
"Whatever," acquiesced Flak Macaque. "Got any durries?"
Mumbled negatives. Flak Macaque sighed and pulled his fingers through the air, trailing a fine mist of ash that resolved itself into a paper roll. He took a tin of tobacco from his toolbox and tapped it as the next kobold spoke up.
"Say, what's a goblin like you doing on a demon ship anyway?"
"Fucked if I know," shrugged Flak Macaque, and lit all three cigarettes in his mouth. "I didn't pay for this bullshit."
Murmurs of sympathy from his fellow vectors of petty evil. All in all, thought the monkey, pretty normal start to a Thursday.
A long, sharp object that may have been the tip of a bayonet smashed through the loudspeaker, followed by a long groan: 'Oh fuuuck oooooffffff.'
Flak Macaque's head reappeared from under his forearms, eyes shut tight as a fat ailing sixty-year-old man's shirt buttons. Without turning on the light, he slapped his alarm clock into the corner, fumbled for a long stick of rebar, smacked Heidi's power button and lumbered into the hallway, a huge jug of cold espresso in his paw.
It was empty by the time he made it to the roof.
Shading his eyes with a long palm, Flak Macaque sat on his butt, as monkeys tend to do. Somewhere below him, a gang of reptilian thugs stomped up a storm. He licked the rim of the pitcher as if wishing for a final taste to soothe his passage into Morning Hell, then hung it on one finger and let it fall.
Bump, bump, tumble it rolled down the side of the ship and onto the ground below, where it was met with yelling.
"Ya know, you'd have more luck if ya just formed a union," offered Flak Macaque dejectedly. "Like seriously, have you fellas even heard of conformance to stereotype? I swear I caught one of you saying 'big metal bird' just now, like fuck off."
There was a sheepish pause.
"...I was being ironic," muttered a lizardy voice.
Yeah, yeah, thought Flak Macaque. Heidi waved a metal strut to the crowd.
"Dude, though," continued the kobold, clearly trying to make up for her embarrassment at being called out. "It's a UFP core world, we see spacecraft all the time. We were kidding."
"Whatever," acquiesced Flak Macaque. "Got any durries?"
Mumbled negatives. Flak Macaque sighed and pulled his fingers through the air, trailing a fine mist of ash that resolved itself into a paper roll. He took a tin of tobacco from his toolbox and tapped it as the next kobold spoke up.
"Say, what's a goblin like you doing on a demon ship anyway?"
"Fucked if I know," shrugged Flak Macaque, and lit all three cigarettes in his mouth. "I didn't pay for this bullshit."
Murmurs of sympathy from his fellow vectors of petty evil. All in all, thought the monkey, pretty normal start to a Thursday.
© 2007-2026