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[Djinn N Tonic]

GT: a mETEoR?


GT: ThE fucking fuck is This fucking gamE?


You place the last free object, a PRE-PUNCHED CARD, on Serium's Desk.


GT: ThERE is a caRd on YouR dEsk


GT: ThERE is noThing ElsE foR mE To place

 

[Necromantic]

TT: ...


TT: im gonna fucking die....


==> Serium: go back to your respiteblock


What? Instead of gawking at the thing that's hurtling toward your hive, about to flatten you and everything you own? You don't think that moving about ten foot to the left is going to increase your chances of survival in the slightest. If the meteor doesn't crush you, the fact that you live in the middle of the forest, and all of the trees are now on fire sure will. You think that being crushed would be a better fate than burnt to death.


Nonetheless, you listen to the voice telling you to go in your respiteblock, your eyes landing on the machine that used to say 3:20, though it now says 2:59. Oh, so it's... a timer? Is it counting down how long you have until that meteor plows into your hive? Does that mean that this game can... Save you, somehow?


Whether it can save you or not doesn't currently matter to you, because watching the timer tick by the seconds is already causing you to hyperventilate. 2:58... 2:57....2:56.... It is literally ticking away your life. The seconds until a huge meteor destroys your home, which will either crush you, or, if you're outside, the time until you're left to cook to death.


You go to grab your hair while your panic attack emerges, but one hand manages to miss the mark, and you end up pulling on one of your horns instead. While it doesn't break the horn, the pain that explodes at the base of your right horn is enough to temporarily pull you out of your panic. While you normally enjoy pain, the feeling of your bones breaking isn't something you enjoy, and horns ARE bone, after all.


In your moment of clear thinking, you remember Rivgel said that he put a card on your desk. You run to your desk and pick it up, then sprint out of your room, past that satanic timer. Oh, looks like the thing holding your teal dowel has a place to put cards...


You cram the card into the slot, and the machine carves it. Looks like that was what you needed to... carve the dowel.

 

[Djinn N Tonic]

GT: WEll, if YouR going To diE


GT: mighT as WEll sEE hoW faR WE can gET in This gamE unTil ThEn


GT: TRY Taking ThaT doWEl To ThE alchEmixER


GT: Ya knoW, ThE plaTfoRm

 

[Necromantic]

TT: uhm...


TT: 6kAy


==> Ferrih: get mad at the floating orb following you


Okay, maybe your panic isn't truly gone, because within moments of sending that message to Rivgel, you lose your temper at that Navi-thing following you, and decaptchalogue whatever you have available for you at the current time of day, which is a scalemate, and fling that shit at that orb. It only makes it worse, because, suddenly, it's actually making noise. Fuck, what's up with this thing?


==> Alright, now grab the dowel and sprint up stairs


You tear the dowel away from the machine, and start sprinting up the staircase to the flat roof of your hive. Flinging the door open, you emerge just in time to see that the meteor barreling toward your house was getting even closer. Damn, it was huge at this point. Ignoring that for the time being, you dash over to the machine... Now what do you do?


Deciding that doing something is better than nothing, you slam the carved dowel down on a platform that looks like it's about the right size for it. In a rediculous flash of light and smoke, as if you're at a carnival, something appears on the... What did Rivgel call it? Alchemixer? The Alchemixer.


You climb up on top on the alchemixer to see what it was that appeared, only to hear the tell-tale tick and tock of your worst fear. Oh, fuck, why did it have to be a clock, of all things? What could you do with a clock?


A glance up at the sky tells you that you're about to die, so you do what you think is the best thing to do in your last few seconds of life-


You slam your entire body down on that shit, shattering it under your body weight.

 

[Snipewing]

==> Mark, do something.

You can't really do anything. You're sitting at your computer after installing both discs, apparently waiting to connect to people. Man, you really wish other Mark would come around. Anyone. Instead, you spin around in your SPINNY CHAIR, and DAMN IS IT FUN. Nonetheless the swirling spirograph on the screen keep catching your eye as you wait to connect. You have no idea what this game is supposed to be about, and the more the spirograph spins, the more curious you get and the more you want to play. It's practically mouthwatering. A thought goes through your head: maybe you could connect to yourself, be your own client and player. Probably not though, since games usually avoid such. You're still gonna think about it though. It's driving you mad.

In order to preserve your sanity, you sneak out to the WORKSHOP, passing by your dad while walks silently to his study. Man, the guy's so depressing. Oh well, once you're in the WORKSHOP, you immediately add some heat to the HEARTH and start putting the IRONS IN THE FIRE. You keep your phone on you, the volume at max to alert you if anything happens on your computer whilst you heat the IRONS. DAMN, THEY'RE HOT. RED HOT. Before long, with the heat of the FORGE, you have a crucible of MOLTEN IRON which you grab with some tongs and pour into the CAPTCHALOGUE CARD CAST. This is a part of your Sylladex's SMITHING MODUS. You can store items in your CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS based on the strength of the metal you use for each card. And Aluminum card won't carry much, maybe a toolkit, or something small like that. Now, an IRON CARD, THAT bad boy will carry a lot. You've carried so much stuff with your trusty IRON CARDS, like that time you captchalogued the COUCH. That was great. The strongest card you have is your single INCONEL CARD, a superalloy card, that carries A WHOLE SHITTON. You can only store one item per card, but the bigger and heavier the item, the stronger the card you will need. They WILL BREAK if you overload them. But not the INCONEL CARD. That mofo's never gonna crack. You could probably captchalogue a Destroyer ship no problem. Too bad you don't have the metals around to make another one, just shit tons of iron. Your cards organize themselves based on the card's metal, and then suborganize based on the weight stored in each metals category. You currently have twelve cards. Three ALUMINUM CARDS, a GOLD CARD that your dad gave you, six IRON CARDS, a LEAD CARD, and your INCONEL CARD. You want to make more, hence why you came to the forge, thus using the iron you melted down to cast three more IRON CARDS, bringing you to a total of FIFTEEN CAPTCHALOGUE CARDS. You feel so awesome. But why not put these to use? You feel like you might, for some reason, need some stuff when you actually get to play the game. So you go inside and pack a lunch, using ONE ALUMINIUM CARD, using the two others to carry a JUG OF OJ each. You love the shit. You already have your laptop in your GOLD CARD, that's it's special place. You're afraid of the LEAD CARD due to toxicity, and will only use it if you ever have to take care of nuclear waste or something, so let's leave that one alone. You fill your IRON CARDS with some random shit. Stuffed animal, large toolbox, your STASH OF LIGHTERS AND SPRAYCANS (not including the one equipped to your Strife Specibus), your MINI FOUNDRY that you like to melt cans in, and such. You leave your INCONEL card alone though. Back in your room, a WOODEN CARD lies on your table. That's the oddball of your SMITHING MODUS. As a blacksmith, you have to know WOODWORKING TOO. But in the WOODEN CARD lies your emergency forging materials. Without them you'd be screwed. You can only get stuff out of your captchalogue deck if you melt down the card. Melting it down keeps the item in tact and pops it from the forge, but means you have to recast the card. So in your WOODEN CARD, which you now add to your deck, is a mini ARC FURNACE so you can melt shit quick and easy with high temperatures, the ARC WELDER to power said ARC FURNACE, a CRUCIBLE, a CAPTCHACARD CAST, a QUENCHING BARREL and a HAMMER. You think this is all complex and a little overbearing, since it's what your dad wanted, but hey, you still think it's cool playing with heat and molten metal and hammers and FIRE. The fact that it makes you pretty STRONG with those lean muscles doesn't make you wanna quit either. Always strong, hot, sweaty, and tan by the forge. You're just glad you stay lean instead of gaining bulk like your dad.​