Hylozoist

Interplanetary Space Friends - A Game About Space Adventures, Friendship and Fast Food

Made a filler post. Please inform me if anything is wrong.

@Valor

Nothing wrong, but (there's always a but), do you want me to throw something at Vanessa? I'm happy to do so (though will need a bit of time to come up with something, scribble it down, rewrite it and post it proper), and I don't want you to feel left out at all. There are still some other folks who've yet to post, so there's a chance for something to happen there still.

Interplanetary Space Friends - A Game About Space Adventures, Friendship and Fast Food

Coordinates Accepted!
Destination: Ofromia

The text glowed happily on the navicomp screen, before being replaced by an avatar that, presumably, represented the Ship AI. At some point, the thing had downloaded a bunch of clip-art from the SpaceNet and it now took some delight in trying to find the most appropriate image to represent itself in any given situation. Today, for Elarin, it was a little cartoon lizard with overly large eyes. The monitor wasn't capable of displaying anything at a satisfactory resolution, and the colour palette available to it was limited to varying shades of green (ranging from "so dark you can't really read it" to "bloody hell, my retinas"), so the finer details of the avatar were lost.

More text appeared on the screen. The NaviComp did have a text-to-voice function, but the voice it used was so high-pitched that only those with augmented hearing could hear it. The Canidae of Sirius designed very efficient navigational computers, but their designers failed to envisage other species showing an interest in their products. Foreign customers often confused the in-built treat dispensers as cup holders, and rarely appreciated the cultural significance of the "Good Boy!" screensaver.

>Did you bring me ice cream?

The little lizard in the bottom right corner looked quizzically out towards Elarin as the text appeared underneath the destination confirmation.

>I mean, this isn't a test or anything.
>I'm just in the mood for ice cream.
>We'll go to Ofromia, even if there's no ice cream.
>Explosive decompression occurs at a rate swifter than that at which air can escape from the lungs.
>Typically in less than 0.1 to 0.5 seconds.
>That's my Fact Of The Day, by the by.

@DepressedSoviet

Interplanetary Space Friends - A Game About Space Adventures, Friendship and Fast Food

Just a reminder that I was planning to do some not-quite-slice-of-life stuff prior to the adventure in Ofromia; I would dearly love it if folks sought out other folks to interact with, but I shall try to provide some "stuff going on" as it pops into my head, or if it looks like it's needed.

As always, please poke me (gently) if you want something done. I'm more than happy to provide you with things to do, but sometimes I need a (really gentle) reminder about it, and I don't want to throw things at you if you don't want things thrown at you. If that makes sense. Which it probably doesn't. I should have some more tea and something to eat for lunch.

Interplanetary Space Friends - A Game About Space Adventures, Friendship and Fast Food

^{$:/>connect maintenance_6
password: guest
maintenance_6> status
| syntax error
maintenance_6> check_status
| syntax error
maintenance_6> status_check
maintenance_6> Camera: Ok!
maintenance_6> Microphone: Ok!
maintenance_6> Locotmotion: Compromised (LEG_A, LEG_B)!
maintenance_6> Process: cleaning_script_5_mag
maintenance_6> Firmware: Update available!
maintenance_6> stop cleaning_script_5_mag -t 15 -x
maintenance_6> Are you sure? Y/N
maintenance_6> Y
maintenance_6> ..\
$:/>sudo cp %CORE%/Personality/CURRENT/ maintenance_6}

---

The little robot fell from the ceiling, adding yet another dent and a few extra scrapes to the chassis of the thing. After a rather ungainly few seconds spent righting itself, it took a few tentative steps sideways, then forwards, then backwards. Internal fans revved into life, jetting out a stream of dust over the floor behind it, before winding down once again. The screen that made the "face" of the thing flickered a few times. A variety of faces danced across the monitor, along with the occasional glimpse of a spreadsheet, a command line prompt, images of kittens in baskets and, finally, back to the simple face it usually displayed. With the diagnostics mostly complete, the robot now bounded over towards the bed occupied by Fiddlesticks. Whatever was controlling the thing now seemed to be capable of far more "natural" movement, even in such an unnatural contraption.

With grace, it leaped up on to the bed. The socks didn't make it easy, necessitating a brief but desperate scramble to find proper footing on the mattress. Now, on the bed with Fiddlesticks, the robot remained as low down as it could, crawling along up alongside the prone figure until it reached the "head end". The medical knowledge of the AI was a little sparse, especially when it came to terminology, but what it lacked in understanding it happily made up for with reckless enthusiasm.

The robot gingerly nudged the nose of the sleeping Fiddlesticks with one socked foot, depositing some dust and smudging some other grub taken from the floor, ceiling and walls there.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hello. Hey. Wake up. Hey. Hey. Hey!"

It gave him another nudge, just to be sure, while charging up the flash on the robot's in-built camera. The best Official Crew Database photos were taken in this manner, as far as the Ship AI was concerned. After all, people generally looked a little shocked when they were rudely awoken by an unfamiliar robot, and they tended to look shocked when they met their untimely end, which made it so much easier to identify the bodies.

Music Appreciation Thread

@Altered Tundra

I'd give that a solid 7/10, though I'm not usually a fan of "that sort of thing" (it turns out that most of the 'metal' stuff I listen to is, according to a friend, symphonic metal), there's that really kind of raw emotion to the voice that metal does so well, and that's a-okay in my book. It gets a bonus point too for that sort of slightly lo-fi ending where it sounds like it's being recorded from the back of a tiny venue.

The Guild of Heroes, Villains, and everything in between: A multiverse guild roleplay.

Let's be plain and simple about which mission we go on

@Ryougu

I'd be happy doing Mission 2 first, and then Mission 3!

The Guild of Heroes, Villains, and everything in between: A multiverse guild roleplay.

@1Hawkeyes @JaceBeleren @Hylozoist
Since there's a bit of... inactivity, how about we set off on a mission?

@Ryougu

Sounds good! I probably won't get much of an opportunity to post properly until tomorrow sadly, but it sounds like a good plan!

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Few in number, but more than there were the year previous. The kindred stranglehold on the city has slackened.

@Ezekiel

Thanks for the quick reply, I'll keep that in mind when writing this character up!

Upon the Sunset Sea; World of Darkness RP

Definitely still open!

@Ezekiel

Hooray! I'll start thinking about character things over lunch, and try to commit something down for approval today. It's an alarmingly slow day for me.

I do have a question though (sorry!); do you have any thoughts about how many Corax are in the area? I'm happy going with there being very few, or absolutely tonnes, or none whatsoever, or anything in between, but I'd like to make sure that I'm on the same page as you when I'm thinking about character-y things. Considering that Things Went Down^TM in Los Angeles, there's more than enough justification for any amount of them being there.

Mourning Mirrodin Tavern (A MTG sandbox roleplay)

Two-One watched Alexander gulp down his drink, admiring the way the human body knows, seemingly by instinct, how to shut off one tube and open another to allow liquids to pass through it. The Myr decided that his opinion on the matter was that it was quite remarkable for something seemingly taken for granted, and added it to his growing mental pile of things that he had an opinion on. Thinking about it distracted Two-One a little, and he snapped his attention back to Alexander, catching the tail end of something about rat troubles.

"Rat trouble? Two-One is a hero. Sort of. I can help with that, look," he squirmed about, freeing one arm from the loop that held his makeshift backpack upon his back and, after wrestling with the thing for a moment, pulled it around and placed it on the bar. Two-One rummaged through the contents, setting out scraps of metal, oddly shaped stones, bits of broken pottery and assorted other pieces of junk until, finally, he wriggled free a short sword. It looked sort of like a sword, though the blade was pitted and dull, the hilt was made by wrapping some fabric around the bottom of the blade, and the cross-guard was just a small piece of wood tied with string to the makeshift sword. As far as weapons went, it was pretty pathetic, but Two-One positively glowed with pride.

"I have a sword. Two-One shall deal with your rat problem! Heroes do it because it is right to do. Money is good too however. Two-One needs to buy things. Things to make new Myr."

Two-One held the "sword" aloft, turning it slightly so that, if it were a proper sword, it might catch the light. All it did was shed a flake of rust or two. As an inspirational gesture, it left a lot to be desired. Two-One gazed admiringly at the sword he'd made, then placed it on the bar, next to the backpack.

"Work then stories. I am fond of stories. I can tell you of heroic deeds against the rats. Then we hear story about riding wurms from Aspasia and stories about home from Pax and Two-One shall get homesick and then we shall have a disagreement and then the Father will tell a story and it will be less sad and I have not considered what events after that would make the evening more memorable."

Two-One didn't always believe in punctuation, especially when it came to thinking about what he wanted to do.

@Protoman @MarsAdept @Achronum