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Oh, in that case the 'Notable Specimens' section of my unit schematic needs a lot of revision. I was under the impression that they could be played like different members of the same species and this their own sub-characters. Each Maneater on the Trough's staff would have to be identical then, right? Does that mean that in the new world their personalities would also be identical? Could they even have different names?


To answer, Personality is flexible, Design is flexible, Name is flexible, but the Schematic is preset. So, you can easily have subspecies within a single Schematic by simply designing them to do different things, and personalities that befit them - especially in the New World, where they would be able to evolve their personalities beyond the scope of their designs due to the lack of binary constraints.
I wanted to ask, can I have the staff units of Hivehill be worker ants/bees, and just have as many as I want (within reason)? As workers, they would have no combat levels, but would function as parcel delivery, waste collection, heavy labor, etc. and could be leased out to the other factories in functional groups to serve similar menial task purposes. Being of low intelligence, they coordinate through pheromones, but beyond instinctively knowing how to make hives and hills, they are incapable of higher-level planning/construction.

That way I can save the Factory levels for combat units.


Staff Units are Units that are duplicated by a combination of MinMaxine's Racial Class Skills, and are cookie cutter from a Schematic (Unit Level no higher than 1/2 their Overseer) that each Factory member gave to Faetalis.

Hence, they have no cost against your Factory Production, but can only take one solid hit, before going sploosh back into slime.

So, in spite of having combat potential, they are literally a duplicate that Faetalis uses to "bypass" (a.k.a. exploit a loophole) restrictions on the Production Levels, as she designed MinMaxine to be, technically, an Overseer that duplicates other Entities and produces them via her Slime Magic, so she could spend her Production Levels on her Technomancer stuff and her fellow members can focus on projects the same without stressing.
And, the ball is offically rolling, because I was lazy and tired yesterday, and forgot to roll it.
War. War never changes. A thousand cycles. A million units. Expenses in the billions. Reasons revise. Alliances alter. All variables known change. But, war... war never changes.

War --


"Ugh!" Injected a disgusted groan, "That's awful. So trite and cliche..." Looking into a trio of vanity mirrors, built into the rounded corner of an otherwise square room was the Guild Leader of Infactorium, Faetalis the Virago. Behind her, her Factory's Overseer, MinMaxine, sat upon her desk in a duplication of her very form; the Duplicant Slime was holding a notebook and scribbling furious notes of every word her Supreme Being spoke. Clearing her throat with a sharp, "Ahem," Faetalis continued with her audience of one in rapture, "Explore, to venture out..."

Absorbed in her own role-play, Faetalis was ignoring the notifications of her guild members logging out, slowly reducing the active number to zero, as the left. Abandonment of the servers had been announced a week ago, and they were shutting down systematically, one by one, to allow people time to host farewells, fight the World Bosses for a final time - they even increased all Rare and Artifact Gear to 100% drop rates, just to incentivize players to enjoy the last few hours of their servers running.

Unfortunately, that didn't allow much for Guild versus Guild - better known as Siege Wars - to be run, as other Guilds were queued up in a desire to hold, even if only for a few hours, endgame items with a drop chance more remote than the nearest star system. As such, the technophile known as "F4Xtalis" among the Siege War community didn't partake in the festivities, choosing craft the finest speech to send her guildmates off with, as a Guild Leader should.

Ever unaware of their exodus, as the final hour came to a close.

"...But, war... war never changes." Faetalis concluded, before grimacing. "Gaaah! I can't escape that damned cliche!" she whined, messing with her hair, as she sighed. "I thought it was okay," MinMaxine offered, as she skipped over, and morphed into her natural, compact state: a jiggly, wiggly crimson Jello with black stripes like a some kind of Tiger Slime; taking her place on Faetalis's left shoulder, where she tended to be if not serving her duties. "Thanks, Maxie, but that sucked," Faetalis chuckled, "You can say so. Anyway, I lost track of time," she brought up her HUD, and saw there was, literally, less than a minute left in her game session. "I lost that much time!?"

Faetalis rushed for the door, as the seconds ticked away. "Shit! I wanna look outside, at least once more!" she shouted, before her personal factory started to shake and rumble. [Huh!? What's going on!? The server being deleted!? I'm still in here!] Faetalis "shouted" into the server chat, confident that a GM had to be watching for stragglers.

Silent greeted her for much too long, as the factory shook. No, as all of Infactorium shook. In the distance, explosions echoed, as buildings took structural damage, and the smell of toxic waste and smoke filled the air, as her own factory was crippled. "This is Siege Damage! Are we being attacked!?" Faetalis asked, before she was, suddenly, clipped in the shoulder with a rivet, and fell in, genuine, realistic pain. However, she didn't even care about her own safety, as she noticed that MinMaxine had completely dropped all health points, but one.

That prompted her to panic, [GMs! What's --] "-- going on here!?" Faetalis "shouted", before the text became speech from her own mouth. Stunned by the next of too many back-to-back revelations, Faetalis took her eyes off the path of her mad dash, and didn't notice the uprooted flooring, until she cracked her head against the wall. Blood drained over her eyes, as she suffered from [Confusion] and [Heavy Bleed], and a [Knock Out] counter appeared... counting down from three... two... one...

Awakening with a start, as ten seconds debuff wore off, Faetalis looked around, and swallowed a mouthful of blood as she struggled to her feet, and clutched her bleeding shoulder; smushing her shaking hand into MinMaxine by accident, as she hurried through her collapsing factory.

Stumbling through a busted escape door, she gasped...

"Where the hell...?"

Infactorium, in its crippled, yet complete, entirety was inside a crater of a big mountain. Around her, several factories of the massive complex of technological marvels and several years of GvG struggles and progress were destroyed, collapsing, and burning around her. Emergency Services were saving what could be, but she wasn't foolish... Siege Damage required more resources that she had funds for, and this situation of nothing but rock for miles was not promising.

Staggering backwards, Faetalis had to take stock of what she had, who she had, before she could even question where she was. Looking at MinMaxine, she saw the Jello had a debuff status she'd never seen before, the [Comatose] status, and was sitting at 1 HP at the same time. Lost and confused, Faetalis didn't even notice she was racing through her halls, diving over holes, and under pipes, until she reached her office, and smashed the Emergency Meeting button.

Anyone still remaining in the Guild was compelled by her command to gather.

Hopefully, there was someone to heed her call...


Currently full for now.

Applications may be opened and accepted at a later date with an Interest Check and Character Sheet written.
I see, I see. I definitely understand the mental hell of a busy work week.

Just thought I'd check, is all.
I might've spoke too soon. This still going?
There was a clap of flesh against flesh, as Valley brought her hands to the cheek of her Servant’s face; eyes open and glowing with a depth of power ages old.

Flip silently, o’ pages of old.

Plan brilliantly, o’ thiever, so bold.

And, reach for riches untold.

As the two voices spoke, Lancer of Blue would see her Master’s clothing being replaced; gone was her plain attire for something far more extravagant and eye-catching. In addition, a third voice spoke up, “Harken to the call of the Phantom Thief.

Suddenly, Lancer of Blue would feel her cheeks gain two extremely different temperatures - one of extreme heat, and one of extreme cold, as eyes of the most piercing gold worked into hers, and looked beyond her; in the truth of her very existence.

Well, aren’t you a broken little mystery,” she asks. “Behind smiles and innocence...” Valley grins, “...but, through your deceptions, We see the truth you hide.

Lancer of Blue could feel herself being striped bare of any deceptions she kept, both conscious and unconsciously under her Master’s gaze. Those golden eyes peeling back her history, before a sudden flash of mesmerizing blue filled her eyes, and Valley was gone - as was her scythe.

Above her, several feet higher than her arms could reach, Valley floated above Lancer of Blue on seemingly solid platforms of air... gingerly stroking her weapon with a gloved fingertip.

What to call you,” the Phantom Thief asks, as she lied down, as if bored. “Sickle. Scythe. I don’t have time for the mouthful that is your name,” she says, flippantly, “So, you need a nickname. Got a good one on ya?

@Seirei No Hai
Oh, hey! Nice to see this isn't dead.
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