shitposting rave 3: Dawn of the third rave

well thats something at least

what the fuck is that

 

[Somehow, the text on her visor seems to convey a monotone.] Oh no. The horror. Facts once again prove offensive. How dare I.

If any source is to be trusted: embodiment-- er, personification? does it count as "embodiment" if its preferred form is two-dimensional and not an actual body?-- of chaos, likes to think it has some amount of control over this space and the people in it. First is true (as much as any of us can affect our surroundings here), second is not.

 

"He'll do whatever he wants to do no matter what we say," says Ford.

"Bill is intelligent enough in the abstract sense to do math that I can't, and has just enough self-control to dupe one person at a time into taking his bait, but outside of that, self-control is not among his virtues. Not that Bill actually has any virtues."

"Do not forget, Mr Schuyler, that three of them are my daughters, and several of them are my allies and friends. There certainly are a lot of obnoxious trolls here right now, but they're not all like the Croni."

"My least favourite mistake and worst personal enemy," says Ford. "Technically, he did cause this liminal space to be created--by breaking down a lot of interdimensional interstitia. But he has no more power here than anyone else does, which is to say, he can be as obnoxious as he wants to be but he can't hurt anyone and nobody else can hurt him."

 

Bill eats the grenade, then spits 1o of them back out at Burt. Each grenade contains 3 eyebats, which flutter around despondently as nobody in the rave is willing to be turned into stone today.

 

-he takes a long look at this-
Do you know, I think this might be worse than the time we drank that strange engex, Sarge? Although at least that was all my own processor.

 

-he laughs-
Weren't nothin' strange about it. Just weren't just engex - think there were some boosters an' some minerals that ain't exactly standard medical practice. Can't believe you went through the academy an' never had anybody offer to watch the pretty colors with you.

 

son of a sicilian sourpuss your head looks like a lego

riiiiiiiiight i must be dying in the real world trippingest fever dream i ever had

is that a challenge old man

[Tamika jumps at the noise, then immediately jumps again to try and catch one. She lands in a crouch.]

 

"I smell a history I do not exactly wish to be partial to. But do carry on anyways if you wish."

"Sir you are quite quick to judge! Have I called them anythign but delightful? No, Sir, I believe I have not."
His eyes are sparkling with amusement.

 

Why ask questions if any answer offered is distrusted??

...Ros's shiny aft, if this is what it's like dealing with me when everything's coming up threat-flagged no wonder I've only got one crewmate.

 

Ma7e, if you're goin' to insul7 our en7ire race, a7 leas7 have 7he globes 7o admi7 i7 >:{

 

Simon chuckles.
"Sir, if you can tell me were I insulted you and yours I shall drag myself out of this place immediately to drown myself in the Thames once more."

 

uh... coming up threat-flagged? aft? what?

i bet i am dreaming up an embodiment of chaos who said i dont trust you i dont gotta think youre real to trust you

so the illuminati there is the guy right i really miss doritos i bet thats why i got the dorito god

oh dorito god bestow upon me more tasty nacho cheesy goodness

 

...hm, more evidence the "universal" translator here isn't perfect. I probably shouldn't be so pleased about that...

"Aft": colloquial/slang for posterior pelvic assembly, coarse connotations. (Further reference for whole phrase: Ros is one of my homeplanet's pantheon, the embodiment of trade and subterfuge. Expletives calling on him generally involve things being brought to light or... [She draws small circles with one hand, obviously searching for a word.] Hm. Declined? Being not good enough?)
"Threat-flagged": I... am uncertain how much explaining needs done. Have... threat-flagging protocols? Processor threads dedicated to noticing potential dangers and bringing them to my attention. Think most transformers have said protocols on some level? But... [she shrugs.] As susceptible to glitches as any other process. Doesn't always function properly.

...parsed previous response as sarcasm, indicating disbelief in explanation provided. If not true, apology extended.

...I have no idea what most of these words mean. The gold triangle is the chaos personification spoken of recently, yes.

 

Bill turns all of Tamika's clothes and possessions into the gloopiest pile of gross movie theatre nachos imaginable.

((Note: Tamika can, of course, immediately disbelieve this and set things right, but she did ask. At least she didn't ask Bill to make her a sandwich.))

 

*tries to bowl with the eyebats as balls and bill as the pin*

 

[Her clothing oozes off of her. Turns out that 1) she's hot and 2) she's seen some shit. Her skin is a disaster of scar tissue.]

WHAT- kinda mouthgaped semen-guzzling cuntflogger with this poppycock tomfoolery-

[She lowers her voice to a frantic mutter and tries to both cover herself and remove the cheese from her person. She seems to have forgotten for the moment the powers afforded by lucid dreaming. Enjoy the view, y'all.]

not exactly what i had in mind shouldnt this be powder what kind of dorito are you what a dipshit twist on the usual nudey dreams-

shit wait dreaming

[She imagines really really hard that she is clean and wearing shorts and a tank top. After a few seconds, both are true. Her face is burning and her muscles tense, but she holds back from leaping at Bill for the moment.]

there are better ways to get a girl out of her clothes but youre not my type so i guess thats all your gonna get

 

Oh man!!! There are so many people here!!! And so many organics!!! Where is this place, anyway??? Last thing I remember is the Captain working on my third knee!!! Celsius got mad at me, but I just wanted to see!!! Joints are cool!!!

 

...well. Time to see if I won anything!!

 

Won anything??? Was there a contest or something??? I don't have any prizes, I don't think :((( not anything other bots would want, anyway!!! None of you can have chocolate without getting sick :(((

 

...how disconnected from the rest of the ship is Geargrind? One would think if there was a pool about one's own injuries they'd get in on that!! Talk to... ah, slag, forget who's collecting down in sec, I know it's Ricochet and whatever her conjunx's name is in engineering if Geargrind wants to ask them?

(Also. Can Geargrind be convinced to lose fingers next?)