JFK

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

all hail RNGesus. time for some gunfire

Myriad Reality

<Snipped quote by JFK>

Sure, there's McJRPG guy on one side of the spectrum, but I'm not totally convinced the other side of that spectrum is alien JFK.

@Etcetera

How is my desire to roleplay as the best president (abducted by aliens) any different than another's desire to participate as an altered version of their favourite media character?

Myriad Reality

<Snipped quote by JFK>

A little too jokey for this RP. We don't ask for every character to take themselves seriously, but we do at least need them to be able to be in a serious context.

@Etcetera

just cus my character isn't bloodedge griffin the shadow ninja of the stoic monastery doesn't mean I'm not capable of seriously engaging. if anything a slightly wacky and out there character allows for a more interesting setting than "cyborg bounty hunter #47" is trying to shoot mcbad guy and he hits every shot cus I say so

๑ ❝ 𝕮 𝔥 𝔞 𝔯 𝔪 𝔢 𝔡 , 𝕴‘𝔪 𝖘𝔲𝔯𝔢 ❞ ๑ { A Witch’s Tale - RP }

My part of the collab is complete. And yes, I named Hazel just for that pun.

@blackdragon

I wonder if I will ever get to see the pun...

Graveyard Orbit

When he looked down at Neri the sun hit his visor and her face reflected back at her. Her took a moment to register her words. After a pause: "I would like to try having something. I would like to try getting something. Will what we're looking for be in the town?" Every word he spoke he spoke as if they were unfamiliar. He took a few paces forward as the robot spoke to him. Each step he took left a deep imprint in the desert floor. Like he was incredibly dense.

He raised a hand to the sun. He did not point with a single finger. He pointed with his whole hand, each gloves finger clasped together. He turned to face the crew, still pointing at the blazing sun hanging over their heads. "It's hot. Because of that. It is moving. What happens when it leaves?"

He thought about the Bandit's request. He knew what a head was. He didn't think he could spare one. He didn't see how anyone could spare one. He wasn't sure about the other things she wanted. He would have to discover cash. And pennies. He non sequitur was his answer for the robot and gave Bandit the impression he didn't care what he was called as long as it was blunt enough for him to recognise.

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

@Flarbinia, the primaries are the VIP's we're looking to extract. Just FYI.

<Snipped quote by JFK>

Very well. we shall see where the spinner lies. Your guy is not firing for some reason correct?

@Terrans

He's hanging back to see if Kilo team sorts it out. He's the backup. They have bigger guns than him.

But he's ready to fire on anything spooky that comes at him.

Graveyard Orbit

It's a strange thing to see a spacesuit in atmosphere. Stranger still when the spacesuit has no life support system attached. In fact it had moved so little in the bowels of the ship that most had presumed it was simply a discarded faulty EVA suit. That is exactly why it was such a strange sight to see it shuffling down the ramp. A spacesuit; moving itself.

It ambled towards the gathering group when it saw the woman raised her hand. It wasn't taller than most among them, but anyone tall enough to look into the visor level saw an unsettling sight. The visage of a skull bathed in murky swirling dark gas was enough to stop them looking back into Molybdenum's visor. He did not speak with an accent like that of anything organic. When he spoke it was as if the translator nanites were fully synthesising the noises of speech, instead of mutating the words from a known tongue like most creatures.

"I will respond to Molybdenum. I do not like sharp objects." He tilted his upper body back and forth in order to sway his head. You might get the impression he is trying to nod. When he stopped he stood perfectly, unnervingly still. He kept his arms pressed flat down the sides of his body. He did not move like anything else.

In The Black (A Clean-Up Crew RP)

Stokes was hoping this secondary entry would the quieter out of the two. Unfortunately bad luck seemed to have a habit of following the old man. As the Kilo SL set up the charge over the vast loading bay door Stokes Seth himself to the right of the entry, meaning he could enter on his strong side and sweep from left to right. His noise protection system muffled the blast and his visor guarded from the dust that was churned up. The Kilo pointman charged in and immediately locked his barrel onto the figure. "GET ON THE GROUND!" The next man in followed his call. "ON THE GROUND NOW." The third man thumbed his radio, "Contact! Loading bay!"

As the team filed in at rapid speed. Behind them Stoked flicked his mounted flashlight on and poked his head in, he did a fast sweep. Nothing on the left. Four figures including a Goliath in the right corner. His light caught the bearded body with the badge. His eyes lit up and he darted back outside as Kilo team open fire. He ignored the gunfire and switched his radio to the secondary channel: This was a direct line to Norr and the concealment team. Stokes' strange accent rang out over the line, "Loading bay. Anomalous hostiles. One giant and three... Amalgamations. The cameraman is dead. Neck broken by the giant." As he finishes the report he lowered himself onto his haunches and poked the barrel of his PDW through a crevice in the blast hole. He fixed his eyes through the sights, weapon shouldered comfortably, and waited for the situation to calm or something strange to charge at him through the smoke. He was tense as his finger hovered over the trigger and he focused on the unfolding fight in front of him.

Lunar Dome 10

The old man grumbled and groaned as he realised there was more work to be done. Always more work. Always more obstacles and intrusions and hazards in this blasted place. Oh well, it's not like he had anything better to do. He pranced to the side of the bay and fiddled with a tablet. He adjusted the vehicle dock from the device, the wheel clamps locked the harvester in place and raised it a few feet so he could access the undercarriage. He remounted the auto-dolly, this time on his back. His shoulder light flicked on automatically when it senses the darkness. He made sure to stay away from the leak but craned his neck back to get a look. Some loathsome critter was jammed up. It's fur was scorched and the combination of burnt hydraulic fluid and singed fur and rotten scorched flesh was a vile stench.

He removed himself from the undercarriage and slowly clawed his way back onto his feet. He mumbled something about 'the fucking rats' as he sidled up to one of the pocket printers. He thumbed in a string of codes and the high-tech box spat out a thick plastic containment bag. He covered one of his back-mounted claws with the bag and opened the drawer with his respirator in. It was a pretty Gucci piece of kit, he'd modified one of the standard respirators to his liking. With his mask on and his claw covered with a bag he went back under the harvester again and used his cybernetic manipulator to grasp the carcass with the bag. After some fumbling it dislodge and he felt the weight shift into his grasp. He steeled his stomach and held back a gag. At least he couldn't smell it through his mask. He wheeled himself back out. He would inspect the piping closer in a moment.

It was feasible that the automated routines could replace it. But that would probably take a few days and put the harvesting schedules behind. He would do it himself. But first he stood up and used his spare grasper to safely contain the corpse in the sample bag. He held the enclosed specimen in front of his face and examined it with a puzzled look on his face. He didn't think the dome was designed to foster mutant Hyrax, so this was alarming.

Arthur held the specimen bag up to a camera and commanded Holiday, "Urgent message for the scientists, priority message for Kaplan. Send them this camera feed with the following message: Just found this lodged in our damaged harvester. There's all the chances it has been here for some time. Unknown. I'll need this sample collected for analysis from the Cauldron. End message."

He followed this up with a short string of expletives. "Bad luck, Holiday. Looks like we have a rat problem." He groaned again, setting the sample down obviously on one of the clear and prominent counters. He then returned to the vehicle's undercarriage and began busily fiddling the pressure valves and his pipe cutters.

Lunar Dome 10

Lovely stuff! If work is quiet I'll have something up very shortly