/mlpol/ - My Little Politics

>>390717
"I'm just glad I've only got to really make sense of what I can come up with."
>Wild was one hell of a messed up mind. Thing.
>I just point at it menacingly in reply, not bothering with vocalizing my continued poking at her over the 'dating' topic.

>I watch her shift back and forth, grimacing behind the cloth.
>Thankfully I'm not the one trying to readjust to a new skin.
"That looked, and sounded, more like a seized muscle than just a cramp."
>If she weren't eldritch I'd suggest taking a salt tablet.
"Yeah, it tends to feel wrong."

"Well aside from me, and I'm not nearly that desperate yet to consider chopping off a limb to get free of... something."
>Indomitable human spirit of survival or something.

>>390739
>Tachell's head tips downwards, stopping far enough away not to harm eardrums, craggy snout wrinkling in a poor copy of the equine motion.
"Greetings Amy! Hail Lilamaredre! The drums of war finally approach. An excellent send off this is, even should the God-King and Emperor not be able to join us! Then again, they are most certainly tearing the Kenhals open for the coming fray!"

"Good!"
>Hugging you once more, this time not so tight, Umakachov hefts you into a decently comfy seated position on his right arm, scarab helmet emitting a soothing tone.
"Apologies, Amy. I was a too quick in thinking the hunters had found us once more. Old habits are... difficult to stop."
>Listening to the drums overtaking choir in short, harsh beats, keys and brass reverb in cold accusations, background voices blend together firmly afterwards.
>It wasn't something you'd listen to more than once, and the singers were poorly trained, at best.
“Could either of you explain the meanings? Please.”
“The opening was similar to hunting calls which followed us across Tallus, before we breached the Gate you were rebuilding that is. The Dominion Plane... rather one of their disgraced Grand Singers, is leading an outcast warclan."
>Standing up to give a half-mollified, easing smile towards Avernus, your dam's ears flick around.
"Those spiteful unliving bastards never tried listening to us once..
A section of the Dominion is seeking out Solar traitors. Accusations of sabotage, destroying gifts, slaughtering a peaceful Dominion delegation. They claim Planar Treaties were dishonored, that part isn’t clear though. Overall, they're declaring war over a Herald being killed.”
“Hm. The Shades have not spoken of such actions.”
“Oh well. I guess we'll stay here until the nearest Klave arrives. Amy, big hug time!"
>Sire kneeling down to let you off for a near spine popping, freezing double foreleg hug, your dam nickers quietly.
“Safe travels Little Bug, and have fun on Tallus for me.”

>Swiveling on hoof to half-bow at the King, right foreleg curling up to touch barrel, Avernus sing-whistles in a solemn, rolling timbre.
"Wait a few more minutes for me, my beloved, I shall ever return to you as I did once before. And, please smash a few thousand Dominion jackasses, will you?"
>Returning the bow a few dozen feet, or more, the King remains still for five seconds, maw splitting apart in a much-too-wide grin.
"As long as I live we are together and forever we remain, I shall, my wonderful Avernus!"
>Wildly rolling fractures of Void covering the King roil, shoving himself off the slope, wings and claws outstretched, the second echo cackling for him on approach towards hundreds of bright purple, gold outlined portal stones forming across the 1st Ring’s open airspace.
"You tactless idiots dare enter OUR home without bringing gifts!? I haven’t had this many opportunities for glory and honor in the sixteen thousand years I’ve been alive! While I don't think there's anywhere enough room to mount ALL of your heads, I WILL try!
Legion, drown the first wave in your numbers and pincer Orders of interest!
Legionaries, seize the outer rings, then push in to cut off Gate hijackers! Don't destroy them, please!
Shades, dive from upper Rings to rip forming Orders to shreds, and stomp on their pathetic false-songs if you can!
Half-Shades, support the Kratha in storming their commanders! Cut off enough heads and the Hydras will drown in their own blood!
Knights of Fall, force them into choke points! Make them suffer for each hoof of ground they would dare seize!
Sir Umakachov, lady Amethyst, keep that Gate open until the closest Kratha Klave can take over, and you have FULL permission to invoke the whole of Tartarus as you wish! Once relieved, join the Knights of Fall!"
[1d6+50 = (6+50) = 56] <King Tachell
[1d6+38 = (6+38) = 44] <Tartarus Legion
[1d6 = 3] <Legion Reinforcemarents
[1d6+19 = (6+19) = 25] <Tartarus Legionaries
[1d6 = 4] <Legionary Reinforcemarents
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Tartarus Shades
[1d6 = 2] <Shade Reinforcemarents
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <Tartarus Half-Shades
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Half-Shade Reinforcemarents
[1d6+25 = (4+25) = 29] <Kratha
[1d6 = 3] <Kratha Reinforcements
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Knights of Fall
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Knights of Fall Reinforcemarents
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Umakachov Dalli
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <Rune Knight Amethyst Storm-Rose
>vs:
[1d6+44 = (5+44) = 49] <Dominion Plane Outcast First Singer
[1d6+29 = (3+29) = 32] <Dominion Plane Outcast Warclan, 1st wave
[1d6 = 4] <Outcast Warclan Reinforcements
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26] <Dominion Plane Songweavers, 1st Order
[1d6 = 4] <Songweaver Reinforcements
[1d6+16 = (6+16) = 22] <Dominion Plane Outcasts, 1st wave
[1d6 = 5] <Outcast Reinforcements
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <Gate-Takers
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14] <Dominion Potentates
[1d6 = 3] <Potentate Reinforcements
[1d6+8 = (3+8) = 11] <Dominion Plane Silentsong
[1d100 = 39] <Outcast Dominion Second Wareader

>Staring into the finally stabilized green tunnel atop the first sled, it takes the fiery pegasus... far too long in finally realizing the many, marely, fully blatant clues between the Baroness and King.
"Wait a minute, you two are in LOVE!? Is that why you came here and took over?"
"Indeed! And that was not the reason, no. I was furious at the hypocrisy most of my so-called kin held, thus I searched for a much calmer, forgiving place where we would not be treated as heretics.
My taking over was coincidental: the prior Lord was still aggrieved at his crimes and could no longer bear to think of various catastrophic results which might play out."
"Is that why you wouldn't let us anywhere near the big swamp on the 11th Ring?"
"No, that is one of the first Great Wells which, well, flooded. There are a host of stuck objects causing such, which I must add we have been unable to remove.
I blame the Half-Shades for it and they have done nothing save to snicker loudly, which does not disprove my assertions."
"Well.. I feel dumber than I did before."

>Taking off in a brisk walk and stepping inside the roiling tunnel, Avernus calls over her right shoulder, sleds dragging above partly physical, crunchy pseudomatter.
"Amy, take my side, left or right as you prefer. Lila, keep watch for annoyances if you would."
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <B.Scouting
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]

[1d500 = 222] <Tunnel Pests

>>390715
>Nodding at Dul before closing his eyes, Pareidolia exhales deeply and slowly. The blade being set in his lap prompting no change other than an activation of his Sticky enchantment to secure it.
(Focus. Control. Unlike past in-transit interceptions, informational awareness is high. Potential threats are naturalistic. Breathe... Focus... You will ever be you. Undaunted by the flow.)
>He silently notes Hodch's mention of a contingency plan in sending the OT-4 to the Mess Hall.
(Shiibo's absence may be degrading performance of impact preparation measures. I should-)

>>390716
>His helmet's right screen feed illuminates without any prompting, displaying a scene he does not recognize.
>Eyelids fly open and a gloved hand reaches up to access the recessed control dial on his helmet.
"What- how-"
>Hovering over the switch, he regards the strange feed with thorough suspicion.
(Location unclear. Unable to determine origin. Definitely not something I saved. Individuals and organization unknown.)
>His brow furrows further at the mention of energy waveform manipulation and quantum selection, terms adjacently familiar to him.
(This must be some sort of.. strange confluence. Can't determine where or when I acquired this file. But its contents... )
>The engram covered paper comes into view and the two humans being discussion its ramifications, with assorted mentions of First Contact.
>Blinking a few times, his mind and nervous system tingle for a moment at the influx of fundamental information related to energy waves that felt suddenly familiar.
(This engrammatic design is successful in imparting knowledge. But it cannot be Committee derived. Amadeus and Salieri are far more efficient with less side effects. And this is displaying an alternate reality. First Contact protocols were already iterated in a different form than this.)
>Closing his eyes once more and having seen all he needed to see, he resettles his breathing that had been disrupted by the sudden appearance of the video.
>Quietly cataloging the remaining audio away in his mind, he finally lowers his gloved hand back down to his seat.
(Another "quirk" of Tallus, apparently.)

>Finishing his breathing exercise, he speaks over the radio.
*"Shiibo was shut down to avoid incoming EMP effects from imminent blast waves.Will you need additional support?"*

>>390744
>Finding the gleaming Lumen object rather easily in the top cubby hole, it takes a few seconds for a firm hoof on stone click to occur.
>A pleasant, professional sounding mid-30's batmare speaks, calm for the most part, and not having the sharp, shrill, deafening, or screech-laden tones most did.
('Hello Lann, been waiting to hear from you again! What do you need tonight? Also we've got that box of wire sorted out in case you wanted kanpri for another project.')

>Muted hums are stifled by a long click, the Harpy's voice puzzled through the radio.
*"Known it is not. Train within aulder vessails thee Sixth Fleet an' mineself did. Allowed full touch of weaponry, lifehull, systems, memorized all save sarcophogi. Mineself recalls none long seat.
Self-interred we were 'pon ceremonies concluded, given an' granted Right of Travel tae all water an' sky of Tallus. A... as mine later kin state it, slight mistake such it was."*
>Traces of winding down energy systems in the background hold for half a minute before Guillotine speaks, now sounding more at ease.
*"Heavy numbers did so, ye grace. Afore Tallus year of: one-nine-eight-six-zero, Fourth Fleet nae record such symbiosis. When Fourth Fleet swept into Fifth Fleet.. year of one-nine-nine-six-two be first: a pony of earth bore orange armor. Communicate thee vessail did, scorn he received from mare, nae harm given by either. Fifth Fleet ordered thus: contact nae granted 'less vessail, allies, moorings harmed. Monitor an' nae engage all Fleets were tasked.
From Tallus year of: two-zero-zero-zero-zero, to year of current, records declare fifty thousand in number known, estimate mayhaps ten thousand more. Ninth Fleet recorded little, translation tae new world they did.
Mine own logs declare one-hundred ninety-six; bat, wing, crystal, horn, earth. Little hostile they be, desire peace afrom kin they do.
Mineself knowest not, ye grace. Be it at ease, speak tae ye?"*

>Partially in view around the processing monolith system, Stellar Claws was walking around it, surveying the screens in vague interest.
>Stopping to check one of the expanded hardcases, she leans down-
[1d6 = 3]

>>390754
"Fine."
>You didn't have to directly see the tendril dancing side to side to know Wild was refusing to comprehend.

>Starting from the left hand, ripples across greatly changed armor travel to the forearm, upper arm, then shoulder, plating twisting, and finally twitching into a semblance of normal.
"I do not care what occurred, this was HIGHLY distracting. I felt like punching the improperly divided mass should solve the problem, but it is inaccessible now."
>While you couldn't quite sense the screen all three of them previously reading out PAIN, it ALL. THREE. wouldn't be too difficult to find.
>Flexing out the arm entirely, nothing moves that shouldn't.. if her structure was specifically based on human biological mechanics.
"Damage sustained was near total, less than four percent integrity remained. I will worry about the lack of Tryptaran mass later."
>All eight repair systems swivel to face you, swap their current tools for a single red glowing lens in each.
"If you are experiencing motive difficulties, your skeleton can be replaced if necessary or desired, mom."
>Suggestion?
>Threat?
>Offer?
>Recommendation?
>Sanity?
>All and yet none of the above!
"Range to pulses unknown, speculated greater than five hundred miles. Significant signal degradation, unlikely to pose a threat. Contributing factors: distant flora, clouds, water. There are three large scale Elemental echoes in vicinity, currently inactive.
Maintaining close range threat detection."
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <Arcanum Sensors Array
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <Omni-Sensor Arrays
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]

>Swapping to a bizarre pair of slender prongs with a needle, six of the repair tendrils delicately pick up sheets of steel, two surveying what remained of Wild's head.
"This may not be a good time, but I must regain access to primary data nodes. REPLACING the lower cockpit module now-"
[1d6+14 = (5+14) = 19] <Grade 1 Auto-Repair
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+13 = (4+13) = 17] <Grade 2 Auto-Repair
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+13 = (1+13) = 14]
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21] <Tryptaran Autorestoration
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <Repair Tendril #1
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <RT-#2
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <RT-#3
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <RT-#4
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <RT-#5
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <RT-#6
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <RT-#7
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5] <RT-#8

>>390758
>Spinning around and slamming the front cabin door open to lock, Lonestar hammers into the chair's controls, hologram bubble forming around him.
*"Everything electronic that I can't risk's been shut down, Rerculon included, and no damned clue! Either of you two in the top five percent of pilots or drivers? If so take over from me because THAT SHIT-"*
>Screens blinking on from their inactive state, a view from the Landbarge's upper left rear through gigatrees at a significant angle shows a miles high line of crystallized foam visible through canopy.
>Night begins turning into Day, pinpricks, speckles, and smears of fluctuating colors roll chaotically around trees, sections rapidly contracting and expanding outwards.
>Bursts of faux-clouds form, what might have been pseudopods drifting outwards, but seeming lasting just long enough to drag the entire mass-
>Mostly towards the OT-4's direction.
*"Ain't something my ocean world and navy trained brain is comprehending! Hodch, WHAT is it?!"*
>Staring directly into the forward screen, Katyal's everything was definitely unsettled.
"Can drive most military vehicles with eight wheels. Or pilot quad-leg suits. Didn't use hover systems though. Too.. unstable. Like that. Only that's a whole lot worse. It's making me really wish I didn't have that yummy rainbow fruitcake Folu made."
>Eyes swiveling left to eye the scene, then forwards, pure, visceral horror, moderate terror, a small amount of rage, fringes of awe, and twitches of insanity cross the unicorn's face, ears flicking spastically in great distress.
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <M.Fearless
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9]

"....I have NO idea and quite frankly I do not EVER WANT TO! Nibbles, get down here!"
>Snagging the feline in a bright red pillow right as she drops through, his tone shifts to lethal for a moment before delivering the Hero(ine) of the Moors to Dul.
"Do as I say or you may not live long enough to regret otherwise.
Dul, change of plans: hold onto Nibbles as best as you can, and spectrum shift completely out of Tallus the second I say the words: get out!"
>Peering down at the bat winged feline immediately scrambling in air to move in any direction possible, it doesn't work; the Siren easily scoops Nibbles into her front claws, fading until only her outline shows.
'Dul keep wiggly Melari safe.'

"Even if that damned plate works I don't have the ten minutes needed to calculate the number of degrees it can be off by at this distance! We could wind up hundreds of feet in every possible direction, possibly thousands-"
>Left forehoof thrown outwards, the central under-chair lockers are opened to dump Elemental steels inside, muttering a long series of swears, fortunately none in Common, the door slams shut.
"Lonestar, drop the rear passenger hatch two hooves."
*"Done, two fucking minutes left and punching up hard as I can!"*

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3aPhbtgkjs [Embed]

[1d6+20 = (5+20) = 25] <Maximum Speed
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21]
[1d6+20 = (3+20) = 23]
[1d6+20 = (1+20) = 21]

>Hopping onto the rear passenger chair and turning it to face the partly opened, whistling hatch door, Hodch glances down at the straps, grunts, then lifts his head high, voice cracking as he barely keeps his figurative self together.
"Testing the COMPLETELY UNKNOWN with a STUPID hypothetical when NONSENSE OCCURS, AS PER USUAL!"
>Silverine blade appearing, it spears into the back of his neck, drags down to the withers, spinning around once to vanish as several lines of bright red pool into a sphere, and are hurled outside as he motions, a bolt of force slamming the CLOSE button.
"An act which typically promises to suck in CAPITAL letters! ...oh fuck off Discord, now isn't the time!"
[1d6 = 5] <GM.Mysticism: I-Greet-What-You-Are
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 2]
[1d6 = 2]
>vs:
[1d100 = 41] <Reaction

>>390762
>Rising from his jumpseat as the viewscreens present a crystalline mass rushing forwards with false day light, Pareidolia hurriedly tosses his pack into the closest locker.
(Some sort of activated superweapon. Fallout from megafauna clashing. Need to move or die.)
>He unsticks the Panorama Blade from his legs and removes a glove, carefully pricking his palm enough to feel the sensation of pain before stashing it into the locker as well and slipping his glove back on.
*"Moving to the pilot's seat."*
>Time flows more slowly and clarity settles over Pareidolia's vision as his pain response triggers. The chaotic din of hasty half measures becomes merely acknowledged background noise as he makes his way to the pilot's seat.

"Hovercraft training. Will attempt to maneuver."
(Handling should be similar to primary transports.)

>Quickening his breathing pace slightly, he grips the set of control sticks as he takes in what information is available.
(Focus. Process. Failure is not an option.)

[1d6+20 = (5+20) = 25] <Expert Driving + Maximum Speed
[1d6+20 = (6+20) = 26]
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24]
[1d6+20 = (4+20) = 24] <M. Failure is Not Advised
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Adept Human Antigravity Craft
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]

>>390662
"Kraut can be redeemed. Filth, I have no qualms with being erased."
>Bubba shook his head a bit, and focused on the other topics at hand. And hoof.
>A brief muscle twitch in his face, completely unknowingly, at the mention of Horizon.
"I vaguely know of it, I'll admit to not having kept up to date on certain topics."
>Bubba listened intently, taking in every word Stream Lark spoke.
>Nodding in confirmation that it was Jeff, but staying silent.
>He also shifted a bit when Lark mentioned Sweet.
"I know Sweet, yes. Not a lot about Anti, though."
>He accepted that he probably wouldn't until a certain time.
"As far as I'm concerned, the only thing that Razorback should know at the moment is that doing new contracts is off limits until we can fix some of the shit that's been going on."

>Bubba would look over at the cell, eyes narrowed a bit, as a hand rested on the holster of his pistol.
>Even if he knew it might not do much to the occupant.
"Just a pair of fragmentation grenades. I could solve more than a few problems if I was able to carry those around.

"Yes, if you would like to go to Razorback directly, you can escape to the Fortress."

>>390763
>Repulsor whines underneath the Landbarge pitch down several times, screen views slowing appreciably from explicit Operator failures and errors.
"Never trained more than two for this thang ta begin with!"
>Hurriedly thumping autopilot, then the holographic screen into 360 degree bubble setting, Lonestar scrambles out of the pilot chair to take over the gunner-operator seat.
*"Then I'm gettin' outta yer way!"*

>Regaining most of his self-control, Hodch sits down, taking a deep breath and directing the octagon, pyramid, then diamondine separated silverine bells into the locker next to his chair.
>Less disgusted at the situation and dearly regretting what was currently internal but likely to soon become external, Katyal's thumbs jolt straight up at you.
[1d6 = 2] <Mindscape: Control

>Flicking controls and buckling himself in using a 5-way belt system, the former officer taps both targeting sticks, receiving a muted acknowledgement of point defense systems locking down into protected modes.
"Anything's better than the little Ah know! Sticks are Ex-Why-Zee aligned, forward left and right are slew, skew, or drift dependin' on speed, up an' down skews laterally fer targetin' th'same, double forward fer straight line!"
>Reaching over to shut down the engineering section, Lonestar grunts in frustration, angling the forward turrets hard right.
"Outrun that fucken' thang and Ah'ma MAKE you a'medal outta th'dozens a'Spectral corpses Ah've made!"
*"Your engrams are slipping back in."*
*"Ah know!"*

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ur-xJcNNNg [Embed]

>Suitably calm enough to not commit probably stupid actions, the Reservist's voice drifts through internal radio systems.
*"Not alive... guided though. Directional movement based on tracking. Tracking us too fast to understand how. Not Elemarental.. not Planar. Unknown
Heavy resonant properties, highly dissonant. Dissimilar to Crystal Runes, wide spread. Partial primary energy-state, secondary mass spectrum field in consistent functionality. Neither solid, liquid, gas, plasma, nor between. Impossible to disrupt, operating on frequencies every single Crystal pony, Changeling, and the Twin Sisters combined could not counter-harmonic.
Inherently hostile. No second chance. Only plausible option is to outdistance the leading edge until inevitable collapse."*

>Seated and taking hold of the pilot sticks, they were similar to the majority of operational controls you knew, though the variety of top side buttons and individual finger triggers implied the majority of functions and systems were rarely used.
>Or merely copied from archaic gaming joysticks.
>Running through the limited HUD as gigatrees pass by at extreme speed, an electromagnetic compass sufficed enough to aid for directional cues, and a composite 30% faded map, five travel routes plotted across a series of interconnected, archaic roads.
>Long since overgrown, what little flora still grew blurs into long strips of dull colorations, gloves tightly grip as you select a far right route leading north-northwest at a sharp angle, allowing for more lead between the larger numbers of volume decreasing white-barked trees.
>Drifting into alignment with the compass and pushing both controls hard forwards until resistance creeps up to match, two soft red WARNING indicator strips blink, curiously vertical, on both sides of the map.
>Finely tuned to considerably more restrictive and less reactive naval specifications, continued pressure beyond the safe limit causes both warnings to reach bright red, the repulsor pitch changing into a single note shrieking-scream that was only picked up from rearward monitoring systems.

>From the corner of your left eye, the leading edge was visible enough behind the OT-4 to conduct an instantaneous case study of insane gravity-bending, or possibly assisted, processes needed to sustain mass scale energy waveforms over long distances, capable of avoiding obstacles in an inconsistent traveling foam-like state.
>Tertiary notices reading steady at 284 miles per hour out of an absolute 300, each of the gigatrees was now outlined in brilliant reflective shadows to the right side, considerably brighter than any Day on Tallus you could think of.
>Touchy hundredth-degree adjustments to both piloting sticks on a near-perfect 19 degree compass angle lead straight off the ancient road and between trees, twitching the entire vehicle side to side in maintaining a completely opposite course from the leading edge, it was apparent that the mess behind was a single fraction-of-fraction faster.

>Locking down the plasma cannons into an partially EMP protected mode, Lonestar clicks several triggers, reaching up to swipe through screens until reaching a diagnostic readout.
"Gonna try an'figure out how th'shit that thang's stayin' cohesive-"
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (1+8) = 9]

>>390768
>Eyes gauging the closing distance between the unknown hostile "smart" weapon doggedly and apparently knowingly pursuing them, he holds his grip on the pilot sticks as he attempts to manage the oncoming approach path.
*"Engineered weapon. Expertise implies Dynastic? Why us?"*

>The absurd cloud's speed even while avoiding all manner of obstructions implied a level of energy that defied comprehension.
>Straining forward, he continues at speed in an attempt to buy time while flowing in a zen-esque state from the adrenaline and controlled state his body was in.

>>390766
"Then I will demarend a Luminary from Princess Luna for his sake, even if I must do so myself and in pony."
>Nodding in a grim motion, the elder stallion's eyes harden at the Imperial Knights snapping orders at each other, the cylindrical lance tip of one in particular sparking in harsh, flaring bright blue.
"Horizon is the only threat we all now face which should bear any consideration. Her agents are mortal and have vastly lower survival probabilities. I do not care for bias, speciesism, factions, nor politics, and my regard for morality and respect are regrettably low, but I will not sacrifice more lives to fuel that monstrosity or whatever ambitions it yet has."
>Quickly tallying the number of encased manabombs arrayed in a cone shape, Stream Lark flashes a cold, calm smile.
"As much as I would like to talk about Sweet's true self, the only answers belong to her. Though I can sometimes detect unstable Anti in close proximity, I am mostly certainly not immune to it.
Has Razorback been thorough in vetting all contracts not given by Shanis? She is one of perhaps thirty ponies I have absolute trust in, and that alone should tell you how much I value her being alive and well."
>Stiffly making his way around the table's right side, the sealed entrance/exit is given a speculative sniff, waving a hoof over it.
"Hm, odd. I would have expected a turret or two here. Save them. Regardless of what 'Pear Blossom' might be, the most vaunted of Primal Psions stands a tiny chance of surviving that number straight to their face, particularly when accompaneighed by a select number of ruthlessly vindictive Rune Knights."
>Reaching out to test it, he pauses to consider something, mood alternating between annoyed and unreasonably disturbed.
"Then let it be said that I now owe you a debt which may never be properly repaid, albeit I cannot promise anything regarding my daughters, nor the Vigilites. Sha'Ro, however... I don't even want to consider what she may have to 'offer'. That God-Killer carries more secrets than Stalliongrad as a whole has learned, uncovered, recorded, and forgotten, combined.
Two to five seconds if I remember this right, and mares: thank you once more! If that isn't one of Horizon's agents then break all of her legs AFTER silencing her!"
>Giving three light taps, Stream Lark grunts as he jolts into a painful four-point canter.
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <E.Sprint
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]

[1d6 = 2] <Naliyna
[1d6 = 4] <Amerose

>The assembled Crystal ponies collectively humming in deeply twisted, vibrating tones that promised harsh retribution, the presumed leader's helmet rolling around to make a short nod.
>Reflective green and blue eyes gleaming through visor in a pre-kill frenzy state, the mare's delicate soprano is vocally marred by a constant, sharp hiss.
"This bitchmare's ours, and tell that hardass General Twisted Teats to stop taking hard targets from us!"
[1d6+16 = (4+16) = 20] <Imperial Extremis Crystal Rune: Savage Presence
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <GM.Crystal Runes: Shatter-Kill Preparation
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Shatter Preparation x9
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <Manabomb Placemarent

[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23] <?????
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24]
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19]
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <?????
>vs:
[1d100 = 67]

>>390771
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KSalu47XMg [Embed]

*"Agreed, but cannot be directly Dynasty related. Crystal Kingdom weapon system created by their Lorekeeper orders in absentia. No other probabilities. Cannot recall a single word from Kingdom and Imperial records related to a system remotely similar to this, however.
As to your second question: I have no idea. Millions of possible and probable variables, not one of which we have the capability to confirm now."*
*"Hold on, you were talking about a Dynasty Temple way southwest, right? Could it have come from there? ...I really should've brought my best weapons, maybe even one of those fractal explosives too."*
*"Directionally speaking: a greater than ninety-percent chance of the answer being yes. That ruin would have been within Caneighdia's outer border, directly inside Kingdom claimed territory during the Middle Dynasty Era. Impossible to know for certain it was a research-dedicated Temple, but the probability is assumed high given a full Starborn flight chose not to attempt landing.
Trying to recall all specifications of explicitly banned weaponry from that time period-"*
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Adept Crystal Devices & Technologies
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6] <Observer Crystal Empire
[1d6+2 = (4+2) = 6]
[1d6 = 3] <Apprentice Crystal Engineering
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <Senior Crystal Kingdom
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (2+4) = 6]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Adept Dynastic Temples
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11] <Graduate Empress Silver
[1d6+5 = (6+5) = 11]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+5 = (1+5) = 6]
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Adept Middle Dynasty
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Junior Tactician
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5]

>Picking a new course over ancient pathways among the steadily smaller trees, each was now approximately medium cruiser sized, notations reading between 100M to 150M in diameter.
>Unable to do more than continue slight yaw or pitch adjustments in preventing an instantaneously lethal head-on, both WARNING symbols fade to a solid, dull red, still remaining steady at 284MPH without ticking over.
>Physically settled into full control of each micro-muscle movement, the ring of crystalline-foam continuing to, at a pace best measured in seconds per mile, gain, still causing zero damage to trees in its path.
>Far ahead and barely visible, patches of bright white appear among the most spread out gigatrees, passing over the first to leave an exceptionally long streak of flash freezing moisture behind.

*"What were they trying to MAKE!? That thing's pumping out at least quintillion joules every damned second!"*
*"Maybe it's a system designed to shred every last Construct on Tallus all at once, or wipe out most of the Rift Plane in one go?"*
*"Unlikely. If that were the end goal, why has it not been replicated in smaller scales and endlessly reproduced?"*
>Displaying a small window detailing the closest sets of pseduo-cloud formations tracking the OT-4's course, the outermost were contrary to their physical appearance: remaining stable within a 0.392% variance of the massive expanding wave itself.
*"And it's somehow gaining nearly three miles an hour for shit's sakes!"*
>Select patterns relating to frequencies and travel speeds remain equally consistent in the same, except with a 0.11 to 0.26 second interval between new formations.
*"Pare, this is gonna sound completely ratshit crazy: think it's possible to flip this thing backwards at some point to pilot in reverse?"*
*"If you are thinking of utilizing this vehicle's weaponry to destabilize some part, parcel, or portion.. no."*
*"And why not?"*
*"High order calculations based on negative-friction harmonic states. The 'wave' we are seeing is still thoroughly coherent and cohesive, thousands of times beyond the most ludicrously insane control mechanisms. Far outstrips what I estimate the complete hierarchy of Dragons to be capable of; their collective output would not even cause a one percent disruption."*
>Barely holding back from punching forward monoplate, Lonestar sits forwards, flicking controls once more and glaring into constantly updating emission variables.
*"I hate being told 'no', Hodch, and EVERYTHING'S got a weakness, even you-"*
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <ExoTech Optronic Particle Scanner
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]

>>390772
"One that will not be taken lightly. It is at least a godsend that we can kill, or incapacitate and interrogate, her agents if captured."
>He gave a soft nod.
"I doubt she's much of a talking mood either, at the moment. She had some hard thinking ahead of her the last I saw her."
>Bubba figured she would be fine. Eventually.
>Given the lack of him being scalped or drawn and quartered over what he made her face.
>He took a deep breath in through his nose. Eyes closed for a long moment.
"From what I've seen, no. We've been doing whatever was posted. Most of the notices haven't been suspect, but I've taken down everything we had and we will be thoroughly vetting everything from now on."

"You never know, though. One can't be too careful in circumstances such as this."
>He knew that was a bit of a lie, being overly cautious has absolutely led to failure in the past.
>Bubba watched Stream Lark leave, before looking towards the group of murderous crystal ponies.
>He figured it was probably a good idea to wait until the dust settles before leaving himself.
>Otherwise one of them might stab him.
"I'll make sure to put it in a memo."

>>390791
>One of the Rune Knights in the rear swivels enough to eye you over, several times in fact: up, down, then back up again, snapping forwards at a sharp whistle.
"Eyes forward! This one's OFF the list!"
>Rime-tipped lance freezing air around it, the leadmare's helmet tilts, the cell's energy-state barrier creases outwards in random patterns, almost in the shape of hoofprints.
"..Cadenza's told us about Otherworlders, said humans can kill Abominations, Planars, Undead, that sort without needing banned equipmarent, so-"
>Taking an aggressive step forwards at chunks of wall surrounding the cell flaking off at first, ears twitching around inside the helmet's protectors, she snorts in slight amusemarent.
"Whatever THAT happens to be isn't a pony, if it ever bloody was."
"Bet a thousand gems it's a Freak."
"Plow you. Five hundred on Abomination."
"Nah, two thousand says it's one of the missing Inner Council Wards."
"I'll take all three bets and double them. Human, we knock it down and you put a few holes in it, but we'll need it out far enough to break legs, smash something important, stun, or freeze it. DON'T hit any of us either, our rear armor facings are weaker than the front sections-
Buuuuut if you're into that sort of thing, maybe we'll come visit when Cady lets us all off duty."
>Sharp nickers are the mares reform into a pair of diagonal lines, leaving a two foot wide gap

>Constant heavy smashes crumple the barrier outwards, progressively larger shards of stone clattering against Crystal pony ExoFrames for nearly half a minute.
>SomeTHING that could have been a hoof crushes through, if it wasn't the size of a large anti-tank mine, sheathed in burning trails of thick white-gold vapors, or composed of half-stone, half-muscle, next to the cell entrance.
>Pulling back, an eerie, deep inhale from lungs that shouldn't exist is made, then a distinctly non-equine, and most definitely NOT mortal howl-screech.
>Three more exceptionally hard strikes open the cell's left stone side, white-gold shearing off with each violent movement and leaving a strange burnt rotten flesh scent in air.
>A MUCH too large deformed snout pokes through, little more than ribbons of jagged flesh in a crude approximation, Rune Knights eagerly waiting with one hoof in the air.

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFhdc2EvVZo [Embed]

"YOU HAD A CHA-"
"SHUT UP AND BLEED ALREADY!"
>In unison the squad stomps forwards, lances dropping ninety degrees to lock in place on their right sides, loud rippling fractures in realspace streaking into the thing, near-instantly followed by detonations projected in a loose cone shape-
[1d6+12 = (3+12) = 15] <Small Diamond Manabombs x12
[1d6+12 = (1+12) = 13] <Medium Diamond Manabombs x6
[1d6+21 = (3+21) = 24] <GM.Crystal Runes: Shatter-Kill
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23]
[1d6+17 = (1+17) = 18]
[1d6+16 = (2+16) = 18]
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Shatter
[1d6+13 = (6+13) = 19]
]1d6+17]
[1d6+16 = (3+16) = 19]

"Strike and fade mares!"
>Leaping forwards one by one starting with the leadmare, unmistakable Rime-cluster tips impact wall, hard blue backwashing throughout the small jail cell and dropping temperatures to freezing in the first second-
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13] <M.Lunge Lead
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <M.Lunge #2
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (3+10) = 13] <M.Lunge #3
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (2+10) = 12] <M.Lunge #4
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <M.Lunge #5
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <M.Lunge #6
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Recovery
[1d6+10 = (6+10) = 16] <M.Lunge #7
[1d6+3 = (6+3) = 9] <Recovery
[1d6+9 = (1+9) = 10] <M.Lunge #8
[1d6+3 = (3+3) = 6] <Recovery
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <M.Lunge #9
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] <Recovery
[1d6+9 = (3+9) = 12] <M.Lunge #10
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Recovery

>>390798
>He'd give her an even stare as she clearly looked him over like a trophy or something.
>He was used to it.
>He still found it weird as fuck.
"Aye, with a bit of grit and spunk."
>Probably the wrong word, but either way he drew his sidearm.
>The area was way too confined to use Gilda.
"I'll do my best. Can't use my rifle safely this close."
>If all else fails he can try his hooksword.

>Standing off to the side, Bubba waited for the opportune time to shoot.
>And to not immediately get krumpt by the thing being held back.
>As the THING emerges into view, Bubba would ready his handgun, keeping alert and waiting for the mares to get out of the way enough to fire.
>Once he had a good enough shot, he took it.
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <E. Small Arms
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8]

>>390800
>Calling back in dull chiming tones, the leadmare's impact strikes wide right into nothing, leaping backwards for the second in line, striking the misshapen snout and sending pieces of Rime-frozen flesh inwards.
"Better have a few thousand tons of both right now!"
>Second lunging back to her original position, the third impacts much the same, skidding backwards, though the fourth misses, fifth lance landing a direct impact into the hole only to leap back steadily, sixth rocking the snout backwards-
>And ABSOLUTELY FUMBLEFUCKS ALL OF HER HOOF PLACEMARENT, skidding right and hanging as her lance wedges crossways, then furiously tries to scramble backwards with a raucous cackle.
>Remarkably the seventh in line executes a flawless, contemptful lance slam and rearward bounce back to where she was, the monstrous thing scream-howling in a mixture of agony, rage, and maximum frustration.
>Ninth near-missing and only winging the creature, she succumbs to the same fate as number six, both of their crystalline lances jammed together-
"Stop touching the tips!"
"HAH!"
"That's what she said!"
"SHUT UP AND KILL!"
>Taking the opportunity for three steady, ringing shots while six and nine nice~ try to gain distance backwards, Rime burned and frozen rancid flesh shatters inwards, number ten in line grazing the snout, keeping her hoofing and scrabbling on stone in unsteady reverse.

>Half-snarling, half-shrieking, you dimly realize what the creature probably is as it continues smashing into stone and barrier, the mares preparing for another lunge forwards-
"I'M GOING TO ENJOY TEARING ENTRAILS OUT AND FEASTING ON THEM!"
[1d6+18 = (2+18) = 20] <Crushing Force
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23]
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21]
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <Heavyweight

>Dividing into two diagonal lines of four, the leadmare's helmet turns to whistle at you.
"Wall won't hold long, we either try pinning it to the rear wall or lure it out and open up with Rime, your call!
Mares, SHOVE IT IN!"
>No sharp snickers or laughter this time, eight rapidly forming, war crime worthy spikes launch forwards while the unlucky pair struggle to free their weapons.
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <GM.Crystal Runes: Powerspike
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Powerspike x7
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (2+11) = 13]
[1d6 = 3] <Recovery #6
[1d6 = 2] <Recovery #8

>>390801
"Best I can do is a handful and maybe a spiteful grenade later!"
>Bubba can only watch as several of the mares absolutely fuck up their assault, but luckily none of them are harmed.
>His bullets also luckily miss the mares, several shots impacting the beast dead on as he fires.

>He has to admit that it's a good thing that they can joke around while trying to subdue this beast-thing.
>He knew if it was really bad they'd shut up and focus 110% on not dying.

"Lure the bastard out, open it up!"
>He called out, firing again.
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4] <E. Small Arms
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]
[1d6+2 = (2+2) = 4]

>>390802
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKVQCT0RMYQ [Embed]

"Don't know what this thing is-"
>Vocally miffed at the creature pounding larger chunks of stone outwards, the barrier flickers multiple times signaling imminent failure.
"But it stinks worse than my last five dates!"
>Clamps snapping open on their ExoFrames and releasing lances, six and nine back away, swiveling left and stomping behind you, the first angered, the second a bit too eager to, figuratively, pounce.
"Better get my lance back later or I'm biting somepony's hooves!"
"Just like your pillow huh?"
"Wish I could shove a chunk of Rime RIGHT down the back of your neck!"
"Oooo, so you like freezing play too?! Just say when you want to frost me later~!"
>Now that was worth the rightful mix of sharp laughs, though it doesn't take much to feel the leadmare's reasonably disappointed eye roll.
>Spikes impacting deeply into ruined frozen muscle, your first shot strikes above and right into the barrier, ricocheting two right turns into the opposite cell section, the second 230 grain bullet crunching into ruined snout, the third cracking into fractured stone low of the hole.
>The thing halts briefly to screech incomprehensibly, then begins stomping wildly at the buckling cell wall.
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23] <Crushing Force
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21]
[1d6+18 = (6+18) = 24]
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18] <Heavyweight

>The Rune Knights immediately realize they had pissed it off far more than necessary, a series of bright multi-hued spheres popping into the gap, widening into shields and trying to wedge against the creature's efforts.
"Crush the damn leg or hold it back!"
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <GM.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield x9
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]

>Helmet swiveling around partway, the leadmare snorts, ears tapping inside her helmet furiously.
"Run back and get everypony outta the Enclave's center, we'll keep this rotten freak busy 'til you say there's enough room to freeze it somewhere! Check if Lark got out safely later!"

[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <Amerose
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Naliyna
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <Stream Lark

>>390804
"Whatever it is, its insignificance is writ upon its face."
>Bubba ensured that he was loud enough for it to definitely hear him as a bit of a distraction for the creature.
>He has also definitely added to pissing it off with his gunfire.

"Aye, don't do anything stupid until I'm back, that way you'll have an unbiased witness to not overstate it."
>Bubba would turn and make haste back towards the exit, giving the group a quick glance over as he does so.

>>390805
[1d6 = 5] <B. Sprint
[1d6 = 1]

>>390805
>>390807
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WdYvr2QpC3E [Embed]

>Profound violent, sincerely messy, and unspeakably non-sanitary hatred follows the words, the combined shields holding, though several crack from increasingly furious blows.
>Obviously the creature still had some thought for its previous physical appearance.
"Sorry, don't have any BURN CREAM to spare for monsters!"
>Only the leadmare cackles hawkishly, stopping at four shields rendered into little more than floating shards, poorly acting as a defensive barrier.
"Oh for LUNA'S SAKES! Do you four NOT know how to produce a variable harmonic shield properly!? Here's a quick hint: TRY HARDER!"
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21] <GM.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19]
[1d6+15 = (5+15) = 20]
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield x9
[1d6+11 = (3+11) = 14]
[1d6+11 = (4+11) = 15]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16]
>vs:
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21] <Crushing Force
[1d6+18 = (3+18) = 21]
[1d6+18 = (4+18) = 22]
[1d6+18 = (4+18) = 22]
[1d6+15 = (4+15) = 19] <Heavyweight

>Judging from the stone fractures and nearly depleted barrier, the Rune Knights would be able to hold for maybe one minute, unless the monstrosity was able to think rationally again.. IF it could recover from the scorching rebuke, that is.
"HAH! I won't be thinking about my next performarance reviews for at least two weeks after this!"

>Neatly missing a step and turning it into a partial slide, boots catch before you stumble.
>Nopony definitely watched that.
>But were they recording?
>Hauling out of the jail cell fast enough to break an addiction for competence through the timed doorway, straight ahead was Stream Lark, broadside while arguing with Naliyna and Amerose close to the translocation matrice.
>A U-shape surrounded the three, made up by the daunting, collected might of retired or off duty Starborn and active Crystal Lorekeepers, you notice an absurd number of sketchy, dangerous, sinister, corrupted, tainted, probably sentient, unstable, most likely sapient, questionably stable, likely legal, possibly illegal, definitely illegal, multiple classifications of 'nope', a few outright banned, and one HUGE 'nope', weapons in beefman hands, claws, or held in dangerously calm crystalline and magical fields above heads.
>Which, thankfully, weren't being pointed at the Councilierge, though as the older stallion's right leg points south, the majority orient in your direction with proper military about faces.
>The remainder, of course mostly batponies and unicorns, were either incapable, sluggish, had a few scars, or simply lazy.
[1d200 = 135]

>>390811
>Yeah it was time for Bubba to depart.
>Quickly leaving, he avoids becoming horizontal as he exits.
>He'd have to be quick with moving the ponies outside or at least one mare might end up as paste.
>Or roughed up.

>He gives the three a brief, disapproving stare at dilly dallying, but turns his focus to the rest of the ensemble.
>He'd have to be very diplomatic in this situation.
"We need an area of the center cleared out so we can deal with the thing currently attempting to break out and eat some pony or three."
>Smooth.
"Feel free to assist once it's out here, but move back for us."

>>390815
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=of141N-VRZ4 [Embed]

>Over four hundred eyes, some of which were between different states of tangible or intangible, swivel and turn to rest on you.
>Lunar and Crystal Kingdom alike were not typically patient with the prospects of hard or no work, violence, or fun times, making Razorback Enclave a highly desired travel destination among veterans, along with a decent number of elites.
>Some, clearly less capable to enact the third option, too old, or injured, the rest merely not wanting to wait, pass the likely, probably, and definite war crimes directly to the front lines:
>A wide selection of hardened Knights, close range bombardmarent specialists, a few exceptionally hefty Minotaurs, allied Gryphon hunters, marecenaries in black half-plate, flowing white robed Lorekeepers with unusual sexual fascinations for magically explosive devices, professional killers, and one pegasus that you weren't sure wasn't supposed to be here.
>One of the Lunar beefmen shouts for all to back up and leave the translocation matrice wide open.

>Apparently finished with their quiet argumarent, Amerose and Stream Lark follow Naliyna into a stretched out red gateway, unusually pointed south in the Fortress.
[1d6+5 = (4+5) = 9] <Amerose
[1d6+5 = (5+5) = 10] <Naliyna
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <Stream Lark

>Creating a wide, inverted half moon shape stacked in two lines roughly 100M around the matrice, close and medium combatants in front of casters and Crystal ponies.
>The same Minotaur sets an impressively large hammer to his left shoulder, which could have been made from an anchor, or two, the right raising to make a 'go' circling motion at you, grinning in well contained fury.

>>390817
>Giving the crowd a brief look over, Bubba nods internally.
>Definitely the right crowd to offer the prospect of stabbing something.
>Giving the Minotaur a thumbs up, Bubba would turn to run back to the cells.
[1d6 = 2] <B. Sprint
[1d6 = 5]

>>390774
>A disturbing possibility surfaces in the operator's mind as he hones in on the truncated HUD of the pilot's bubble. Hodch's conjecture and recent observations prompt him to consider the strange gravitic nature of the onrushing anomaly.
(If it is tracking waveforms, resonances as Crystal Kingdom ponies do... on the off chance... )
>With a thought, he dissipates his unnamed graviton weapon that had been Stickied to his thigh.
>As Lone exclaims that the cloud is yet still gaining speed, Pareidolia grits his teeth.
(Need to increase speed or entire operation will fail. Outcome remains the same if I lose speed or maintain.)
*"Attempting speed increase. Answer would have matched Hodch."*

[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Adept Human Antigravity Craft
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (5+3) = 8] <M. Failure is Not Advised

*"And flash freezing is occurring ahead."*

>>390757
"Oh, so this isn't serious serious then. Okay!"
>Amethyst settled on his arm and listened to the drums and singers, frowning. They were not very good at song.
>Her brow furrowed and a gasp slipped loose at the very idea of gifts being destroyed.
>Well no wonder they were so upset.
"I think I get it, I'd declare war too if my gifts were destroyed. Can you just imagine? I mean really!"
>Amethyst muttered in annoyance about reliquaries and armories being completely off limits to collateral damage to keep the shinies shiny.
>She didn't really listen to the rest, boring political stuff, nothing she had to concern herself with.
>Her dam stating that it was 'big hug time' caught her attention again however.
>Oh no. Oh no, no, no!
>Amethyst knew what was coming, her dam knew that she knew what was coming, and yet she still hopped off her father's arm and submitted to the hug.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHo2mEg10zo [Embed]

>Unbidden, every time.
"I will mom, do you want me to bring anything back?"
>The ipotane clung back, though never could she apply as much force as her dam was able to.

>Parting from her dam and sire to take up position on Avernus' right flank, Amy cocked her head in confusion even as she drew her Stick in puppeted hand for support.
>Was it not obvious? Why else would Avernus commit to memory Tachell's goofery? Or spend so much time with him? Or always smile that absentminded smile whenever he came up? Or any number of flashing neon signs?
>Lila failing to pick up on that for years was rather silly, though not as silly as her own inability to dredge up the truly forbidden lore of where foals came from.
>It occurred to her that since Avernus and Tachell were together, she could definitely get an answer this time.
>Amethyst turned to Avernus to voice her question.
"-!"

>>390820
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKSOqLPp16I [Embed]

>Achieving a better top speed than Roust normally did, by the time you pass through the sealing door again the Imperial mares had reformed into a tight reverse V.
[1d6+15 = (2+15) = 17] <GM.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield
[1d6+15 = (6+15) = 21]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16]
[1d6+15 = (3+15) = 18]
[1d6+11 = (5+11) = 16] <Squad M.Crystal Runes: Reverb-Shield x9
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (6+11) = 17]
[1d6+11 = (1+11) = 12]
>vs:
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23] <Crushing Force
[1d6+18 = (1+18) = 19]
[1d6+18 = (2+18) = 20]
[1d6+18 = (5+18) = 23]
[1d6+15 = (1+15) = 16] <Heavyweight

>Watching the deformed hoof through a thick, properly layered shield this time, the leadmare snorts acidly at the creature's incessant noises, shouting at it in razor-thin black humor.
"You're dumber than a brain damaged rat getting trapped like this!"
>Spinning around at an obscenely vile, wet sounding roar, the hoof lifts to give... the worst half-assed salute you've ever seen.
>Even the most offensively criminal batponies had better standards.
"Room's clear here, shield should last thirty seconds at least. Come on mares, let's set up a real welcoming party!"

>Pointedly glaring at the leadmare, then other Rune Knights storming out, six and nine somehow resist the overwhelming need to facehoof, which could have been fatal.
>Swiveling on hoof as a pair to face the table, lifting it and the seats together with sorely disappointed hums, the furniture is floated into an opposite cell.
>Six emits a soft whistle to enact the barrier for it, nine collecting Amerose's tea set above her armored saddle, both surveying the composite shield holding before nodding at the same time.
"And now it's clear. Shall we go?"
"And now it's clear. Shall we go?"
>They definitely weren't twins given six's rough, though calmer attitude, nine's eager and remarkably carefree tone marked her as a sometime mare toucher.
"Almost forgot, you may need this."
>A packet of white paper slips out from six's shoulder plates, ripped open and tossed onto you, lifting up nearly three hooves on a stable Float enchantmarent.
"We'll carry the rear, you go first please."
"Of course you make that offer before I get the chance to!"
"Can you not right now?! Kill first, decontaminate second, send reports third, then you can flirt!"
"Why not mix the last two?"
"Just stop!"
"Fiiiine!"
>These two were at least much more considerate, though not quite semi-professional yet it seemed.

>>390831
>Releasing the weapon from reality, the wave's upper formations maintain their semi-erratic nature, leading faux-clouds continuously foaming outwards.
>Pressuring the control sticks minute degrees past the previous, the OT-4's speed now read 286MPH, indicators changing to REDLINE IMMINENT.

*"Less than thirty Crystal Temples were constructed during the Middle Dynasty; only Lorekeeper orders were allowed in and out. Silver did visit them often, and she was noted as hesitant in allowing them access to specific post-prototype Cores. There is an excellent chance she may have witnessed or heard of a catastrophic failure originating from one, though much of this is based on conflicting information.
The wave is definitively resonant, based on crystalline properties, though in such a bizarre form, using nearly every wavelength imaginable, along with some I did not know existed, and is both frictionless to matter, energy, anti of both, and null of both.
In sum: it does not match a single record, marention, rumor, or piece of horsesay I am aware of."*

>Maintaining strict observation forwards between progressively larger trees, now in the outskirts of a snow zone, the encroaching, and not too far behind, near-Day blinks.
>A sheet of pure black passes by, wraparound screen displaying the waveform behind in a dead stop, while forwards was an endless, flat, tall grassy field of a dull crystal-white, appearing frozen even as the Landbarge passes over.
>Cloud formations ripple, roil, condense, then slowly collapse rearwards into the wave, jolting backwards the instant each are rejoined.

>Lonestar's head rigidly swivels towards you, face caught between relieved horror and a mood that was, barely, human.
>Carefully reaching into his coat to take out an exceptionally thin map, Lonestar unfolds it out to nearly 6' by 6', shifting left to lay the top on the engineer's seat for a quick perusal.
>Straps from the rear compartment being released, then hooves landing lightly, Katyal taps her radio.
*"Horse hugging nice job, Pare! Ey Hodch, what kind of clearing is this?"*
*"It appears to be Caneighdian long frostgrass. Quite good."*
*"To eat, or sleep on?"*
*"Both!"*
*"Figures.'*

>Folding the map's lower half up by a quarter as the Reservist's head pokes into the open driver door, then glancing up to his readouts, the older man mutters harshly under his breath, finger tapping at numerous points.
"Know what I hate admitting?"
"An instinctual preference for dealing with Ferron whom do not see humans as potential mates?"
"Besides that, and Finny still doesn't count. I hate how often you're right, Hodch. Was still homing in on us right until it stopped dead and being.. here. Guided, directed, vectored, sensing, whatever else, it has, had, a range limitation."
"Were you able to track how far?"
"Right on twenty two miles from where it started. And another thing: the maps Spiral had are insanely wrong."
"How so?"
"Take a look. Rerculon tossed some real fucked up math before I shut it down. That Warp Gate sent us a little over fifty miles northwest of the Fortress, right?"
"Close to, yes."
"We traveled about a hundred eighty or so last night from here, and another twenty five tonight to there, but look: we're almost two thousand miles southwest of big ruin we're supposed to reach."
"I find thaaaaat.. not impossible given some freakish and flat out nonsensical phenomena I've been involved with. Or in. Where are we currently?"
>Waving a hand over a large section to settle on the top right, the man sighs.
"Completely off the newer maps. Going by this we're in a giant tract of barely traveled land marked as the Northwestern Equestria Outlands. In short; way the fuck away from anywhere we know of."
>Ears flicking around as he thinks, the unicorn's tone brightens.
"Hmmm? Ohhhh, this is a Fold Region! More rare than a batpony born with a wavy coat! I know of nine marked throughout the New Everfree, but this one is unknown. And rather strange. Regardless, think of this as being inside a bubble where gravity and spatial positioning are entirely reversed."
"Hodch... I've been in ONE before and you kn-"
"Well aware of the time dilation and upper spectrum ratios. For the most part. Can't go backwards without returning to danger either.
So, unless you two want a four hour lecture, all I will state for now is this: violently damaged, decayed, corrupted, tainted, or contaminated regions of Tallus are sometimes folded out of physical, energetic, and Elemarental spectrums. This thoroughly inhibits Planar connections and allows the same to decay rapidly, though the vast majority of Eldritch beings cannot stay long due to concentrated entropic pressures.
This will not effect Otherworlders negatively nor positively, though there is an intentional lack of information regarding Fold Zones, save for the knowledge on how to travel through one quickly, and that nearly all were caused by Dynastic failures."

>Katyal calls from the rear rather sharply, lockers opened and being rummaged through.
"Turn off any recording devices, and keep them off until we leave!"
"Wh-"
"Do as she states. I am hereby ordering that whatever any of us may see, sense, feel, or experience, we do not ever share what is within this Fold Region to any. Not to each other, and especially not that infuriating Draconequis. Dul, does the Great Remnant understand these places?"
"Great Remnant know. Dul know secrets cause problem lots too. Great Remnant always say to keep secrets secret, so Dul agree."

>Snout pressing into monoplate with a profoundly relieved sigh, Hodch speaks in a half-flat tone.
"Good. Continue traveling within a three to five degree orientation of the ruin's coordinates. We will leave this specific Fold to exit at an aligned spatial connection or drift on the opposite end. And should any need to visit the Mess Hall, then.. well, now is a good time."

*****
>Lonestar & Katyal gain: 2XP.
>Pareidolia gains: 5XP.
>Hodch gains: yet ANOTHER in a long string of nightmares.

>>390841
>Day suddenly shifts back to night as the OT-4 passes beyond the edge of the visible light emitted by the weaponized cloud. Pareidolia watches the viewscreen with bated breath as it roils back on itself. The wave of energized foam resonance collapses and flows backwards as if it reached an invisible barrier.
(Escape... achieved?)
>He slowly eases the pressure on the sticks, bringing the speed down to a less dangerous level not within the redline danger zone.
>Offering a slow nod to Lonestar, he exhales and rolls his neck and ankles in an attempt to relieve tension from that near brush with death.
>Searching for and setting the autopilot function, Pareidolia sets it as Hodch determines their location to be inside a Fold Region.
*"Will we lose time or gain it inside this zone? How long will it take to traverse relative for us?"*

>At Katyal's interjection and upon Hodch's confirmation, he leaves a verbal note for himself and Shiibo in the currently recording footage before reaching up his helmet and turning off the inbuilt capture function.
*"Understood. Will reactivate Shiibo and inform her of the conditions."*
>He would also turn on Shiibo's systems again and explain the recently transpired events along with the stipulation to not record any of the events inside the Fold.

>>390839

>Patting your head once more, Umakachov sets his Kerbann Staff down with a raspy, battle-eager exhale, traces of local Elemental energetics drawn to it.
"Not yet at least. I will save at least one skull for you to decorate, and an excellent fur pelt if one presents itself."
>Reaching up to tap one beetle horn, then the other, the frown is felt rather than seen.
"They are not being specific about their accusations. I understand they are outcasts, but they have not explained why, when, and how exactly those events happened. At the risk of sounding presumptive, they are acting in an aggressively wanton hyper-emotional state without reason or logic to spare. Why wait two years in declaring a war which should have been decisively accepted?
And avoid ALL field rations before testing them first."
>Snickering muffledly at the somewhat expected sound, a much gentler hug is given before dropping down to give a conspiratorial wink.
"Whatever foods you can get from the Conclaves and Empire, especially the little pumpkins. You'll like those a lot, and make sure to visit the grazing stands if you get a chance, too. I never did get to try the cold hardy sweet lemon grasses.
Be good, but not TOO good, Amy!"

>Finding the pseudostone interestingly crunchy underhoof, the elder mare's head tilts upwards, gazing at the ever shifting tunnel ceiling in faint surprise.
>Head swiveling to eye the husband and horsewife challenging each other to reach ten, twenty five, then fifty kills, Avernus rolls her eyes.
>Of course they'd be wanting trophies.
>Having little trouble pulling the sleds, the unicorn releases a plaintive sigh.
"It does not make sense for outcasts of the Dominion to declare war in Tartarus. No Solars have arrived since-"
>Halting mid-strike briefly, Avernus realizes... something probably hilarious in fore AND hind sight, snorting bemusedly and resuming her forward course.
"The Shades are either completely incompetent and never ask enough questions, or are of such utterly lazy natures that they all somehow marenaged to miss the most important clues. It is little matter now."

>Swirling metallic right eye lifting, then lowering, a delicate, purposeful smile creases her face.
"Of course I will answer, my dear. When you fall in love, it could take a year, two perhaps. Three, sometimes. A decade or more would be unusual, though. A foal arrives only to make the world that much more beautiful for sire and dam, as well as the rest of one's herd. To rush such a wonderful event is to take from yourself the beauty of both nature and equinity. It is rarely possible to scry or divine when the time is right.
Admittedly I have not had foals, though all of my sisters bore at least three."
>Cheeks puffing for three-point-two seconds with a marginally nostalgic ear roll, she releases the breath in a small, cautious exhale.
"The greatest Sorceries of my time could have, if we had chosen to, allowed me to bear foal from Tachell, yet we agreed such would be shallow, and callous. Our love comes from shared principles, beliefs, and the blessed sanctity we both feel towards life as a whole. Thus we could not in good conscience nor faith subject our progeny to be half equine and half Dracosine as the primal natures and instincts of each often oppose the other.
Excluding some Planars, most Extra-Planar, and nearly all Eldritch. Otherworlders must ever be considered on a singular basis however."

>Ahead was a mostly solid, technically supported pseudostone in a squashed oval leading upwards at a shallow grade, but at least weren't stairs.
>The walls were peculiar compared to the tunnels you'd seen before; lined with strange chunks, fractures, jutting pieces, altered sections, and ruined half-physical stones.
>No earth pony had been here for centuries, whether original or subspecies, nor were there any indications of other equines.
>Strange tasting swirls of long decaying Elemental forces, remnants of spells, shards of ancient Sorceries, a burnt tang of electromagnetics, unmistakably dead flecks of Eldritch corruption, and faint wafts of fresh air mix, though a buzzing hum from around a stretched out bend was unusual.
>Passing up and around without straining your legs, odd black flickers in the distance draw the fiery pegasi's attention, standing upright, ears perked in moderate alarm.
"Not beetles, bees, wasps, hornets, or ants. Can't be stichier, termiks, birds, driftsnakes, drakes, wyrms. Also not flying squirrels."
"That is quite a large number though. I have neither seen nor heard similar in tunnels before."
"That humming. Big eyes, long body, rapid wings. Has to be dragonflies. Could be avrek, but those are only in the Everfrees, Moors, and parts of the Dragonspines. I think."
>Squinting briefly, the pegasus flaps her wings out, feathers flicking in anticipation.
"Might be lowland swamp dragonflies, like to a flying scorpion without a stinger or claws, I suppose. Smash them if they try to land, they can bite really hard. Don't think they're all that dangerous, but if they've been stuck here long enough to starve, they could be really annoying."
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <B.Scouting
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]

[1d6 = 1] <Swarm Reaction

[1d500 = 183]

>>390843
>Dropping into a safe zone of 150MPH, the autopilot system was, unsurprisingly, a top left mounted button.

>Stepping inside to eye Lonestar turning the map sideways and folding it back down, Hodch studies the readouts in front before speaking unsurely.
"Cannot tell for certain. Most function equivalent to Tallus in a degraded ratio, however some have unusual dilation or expansion ratios which are incongruent. We may be actively functioning from one to thirty times faster compared to external timeframes. Aging is equivalent, though sometimes slower.
As to the second, we will not know until exiting and calculating distance from entrance to exit. Lone, Kat, watch check?"
"Tablet, watch got eaten, remember? 10:36PM and forty-two for me."
"I've got sixteen seconds past 10:39PM."
"Hm. Double check once we exit. I have a severe distaste for temporal phenomena and associated garbage."

*"Soooo... outside the obvious GIGANTIC SUPER WEAPON making me wish I'd stayed in Folu's bed and not come along, didn't sense anything out of place. Still can't feel the giant silverine teated horse though."*
*"Ain't that a good not-actually-a-problem considering all the damage she's caused?"*
*"Doubt it. She rarely lied outright unless a pony was going to be hurt, and she was never.. what's that word, omniscient? I hate her as much as the true Saddle Arabians and Neighsians do, but she wasn't evil. Least not that I've seen or heard about. Just insanely hyper-aware between extreme caution, overly eager, and paranoid. Besides being the thirstiest damned slut most of the time."*
*"Which makes you different how, exactly?"*
*"...why am I the one taking all the potshots now? Okay, fine, you got me, but not by much. Silver is, was, or whatever, irrevocably hornier than I could ever hope to be.
Sometimes though, she was really, truly, intensely dumb when a project specially caught her attention. The first Faux-Natural Nature Core made her lose her mind for a decade or more, she had six foals during that time."*
*"Please... stop. I don't want to hear anything more."*
*"How do you think I feel knowing more about her remarkably loose sexual preferences than what she actually helped accomplish?"*

>Clicking back in, Katyal shoves a locker closed in the rear, sounding marginally more mentally stable now.
*"Not trying to be harsh dude, just.. places like this need to be left alone. No interaction, study, nada. Ever had full body pain that didn't go away? Tallus feels all of it, not that she's got a choice. Some recover, others don't."*
>Reclining in the gunner's seat, Lonestar doesn't even bother with his radio, voice raising to compensate instead.
"What's the harm of us traveling through?"
"Far be it for ME to call you insensitive.. think about the first time you visited the Ferron Delvan clan in their castle. What happened there?"
"......right. We could, in theory, be screwing over a recovering culture that's been lost or so-"
*"Don't finish that sentence, please. Let live, don't touch or leave traces."*
"Got it. No stopping to pick up some grass then."

>Booting up as normal, 'Shiibo' resumes normal functions within expected parameters, standing at attention.
'Performing full drive sector check.. complete, no data corruption found. Running heuristic diagnostics.. done, no program, file, or avatar changes noted. Drivers optional.
Orders acknowledged sir. Switching to personal interaction mode and checking.. no data on working or functional super weapons found. Exclusions: the Four Alicorns, General Sapphire Kiwi, the Ward known as Nova Flicker, and Casefile: Contaminated Eggbread.'
>Blinking at a rapid exchange of data, the Rerculon's lower functions becoming accessible once more, the avatar freezes, digital eyes wide in a stunned, partly infuriated stare.
'....please ignore those last three words sir. You do not need to be subjected to potentially lethal disappointment towards humans of far less than savory characters.
Prior glitches and errors caused due to broad spectrum electromagical draw. Not quite electromagnetic, sir. Focal wavelengths pulling electrical activity in close proximity; neurochemical, electronic, mechanical, background, possibly radioactive depending on the OT-4's power source, elemental, magical, potentially more. A rough yet formally concluded analysis was concluded by the prototype but did not account for-'
>Motioning towards Hodch from a direct video feed, leaning against the doorframe uneasily, visibly tired though not exhausted.
'His efforts. Information regarding highly specialized, upper classification rituals and rites with limited drawbacks of an electrical nature would be highly useful to cross-reference, and allow for future EMP-like hardening efforts.'
>Arms folding with the ghosts of at least three prior smirks, the avatar bends forwards, eyebrows raised.
'Sir, do you currently possess and have you tasted a 9V battery, sir? If so, it should prove positively enlightening. I do not regret the pun as it is technically tasteless.'

>>390845
>Pulling himself up out of the pilot's seat, he makes his way to the rear compartment as Shiibo boots up. The unfortunate combination of words at the end of her reference checking draws a pause and look of disappointment tinged disgust.
"Of course."
>Closing his eyes wearily, he resumes heading towards his locker to don his pack.
"Unfortunately Shiibo, that is one of my tasks here as the only known human Committee affiliated members on this world. I won't check now, but I will have to later."
>Shifting the heft of the pack onto his shoulders, he turns to look around the cabin and presumably identify the portal leading to the Mess Hall.
"And noted. I'll ask Hodch for details after this ammunition requisition... And yes, I have a nine volt battery. Why?"

>As he looks over the room, he confirms everyone's current statuses and positions as he mentally reviews Katyal's exchanges with Lonestar.
(Katyal's spiritualism in relation to Tallus on full display. At least in this instance, can agree with her stance. Damaged pockets of space and time best left alone to avoid further contamination. Nevermind human contamination.)
>Upon completion he would ask:
*"Heading to Mess Hall for additional ammo, does anyone need anything from Razorback I can acquire?"*

>>390759

>Clemency was surprised by the near instant response from the Moon Orb
>Composing himself, he clears his throat before speaking through the orb
('Sorry, this isn't Lann. This is Clemency. Can I know who I am speaking to?')
>Holding the orb in his hands, Clemency decides to find a seat somewhere to get a moment off his feet
>Settling in, he thinks about what Stellar Claw said for her translations
('So, I am here for the Dark Horses. They need about...20 charcoal sticks and five blank record tomes. Also, if you can, a hoofheld inspection mirror made of white platinum or clear diamondine.')

>After a while, Clemency refocuses and hails the Guillotine
*"Well, I''ll be sure to check that vessel out when I get back."*
>Grabbing his canteen and drinking from it, Clemency continues listening to Guillotine
*"I'm surprised we haven't seen any, given our span.""*
>Again, he looks and inspects the new gun granted by the Constructed Two
>But, mentions of these things being able to communicate made him sit up straighter
*"They...can speak? From mine, I only felt its...intent and eagerness."*
>Looking at the gun, Clemency thought about how it would communicate
>Maybe focusing on it while holding it?
>He grips the gun and tries...listening?
>Clem then looks through his open radio frequencies as a more sensible option for this thing

>>390844
>Granting one last parting, if forlorn, wave to her parents, Amethyst followed along at Avernus' side.
>If only her neck were as bendy as a pony's she could look around better, including back. Turning around was such a bother for her as it was, if it wasn't turning around, it was walking backwards, and if it wasn't walking backwards, it was the dreaded stairs.
>Perhaps there was something for her to learn in the fact that it was easier for her to move forward than in any other direction? Moving forward did not have to mean she could not circle back around at some point.
>Regardless, now was the time to let her Stick have its fun with the energies swirling around, thus she took it to both hands, puppeted and free, and coaxed it into activity.
>Sometimes, if she focused, she could sense whatever energies were prevailing through those her Stick interacted with. Magical creatures tended to possess an aura or orbit, the stronger they were, the greater the magic they exuded, which could be picked up by her Stick. There were some energies her Stick would reject, though those made themselves obvious in other ways.
>Such energies were never a sure sign of what was around, and the smarter critters could keep their energies very finely focused so that they could not be detected at significant range through this method, but it was always prudent to check.

[1d6+2 = (1+2) = 3] < B. Perception
[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5]

"Would the Shades truly be themselves if they weren't so willing to flop and laze around?"
>No, no they would not. The ipotane had learned well how to be as lazy as possible from them. Zero activity, zero thought.
>Avernus had always been the best at guessing whatever questions she were about to ask, and the best at answering them without answering them fully.
>Crafty Baroness...
>Amethyst huffed at the lengthy partial answer, the penultimate in forbidden lore yet remained a mystery to her.
"Truly forbidden lore..."
>Perhaps she could pester those on Tallus for the answers she sought, since the inhabitants of Tartarus had proven highly resilient to her questioning.

>Amy frowned at the buzzing, a consistent but overpowering resonance that would drown out most other music of the world.
>She didn't even know any sorceries or runes that could deal with swarms of opponents. That was a big problem.
>Transferring her staff from her right hand to the left, Amethyst drew the chewed sword in her right. Normally she would two hand it, but she didn't want to put the Stick away just yet.
"Ooh, I really should have spent more time learning sorceries instead of sleeping in Kerbann trees."

>>390937
>Submitting data requests to the Rerculon and beginning study of all readouts related to the crystalline wave, in addition to playing back sensor matched with video to the same, 'Shiibo' nods.
'Understood, priority shifted to low. The concept of harnessing elemental forces free from a vast majority of ill effects is... fascinating.'
>Eyebrow raising succinctly, the avatar offers a blatantly humorous tsk.
'You have disappointed me for the last time. I asked if you have tasted one as it would be en-LIGHTNING. Entrance to, enter with, en- as a signifier.
Your mental state is hampered by high stress responses at current, relax and unwind for a while sir.'
[1d6+3 = (2+3) = 5] <E.Electronic Warfare
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7]
[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14] <R-AEHI Interface
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]

>Standing up from the gunner-operator seat to check on the autopilot, Lonestar adjusts the system several times, walking out of the pilot cabin in a slouch.
"Might as well see what everyone's up to and give Emerald the minimum details. Hodch?"
>Horn lighting in small fractal patterns, space in front of the left rear hatch is covered by a broad, flat rectangular Lumin gateway in the Mess Hall, facing directly south.
"Open, and unusually stable here. Hm. That's interesting. I can't move far from it or do much else, so I might as well learn a few controls and find out precisely where we landed. Is there an instruction manual?"
"There's one under all three seats. Rerculon's active for the most part too. Just don't turn any seat into a pincushion or cowprint, I really hate that one."
"The worst I will do is inscribe a few runes. Dul, you can let Nibble go now? She prefers being in open air."
"Promise you aren't going to make any weird runes?"
"Lone. Seriously? After what we've ALL seen in the past five minutes?"
"...you've got a point."
[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] <M.Research
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (6+8) = 14]
[1d6+8 = (4+8) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Graduate Geography
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (3+6) = 9]
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12] <Graduate Research
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
[1d6+6 = (6+6) = 12]
[1d6+6 = (1+6) = 7]

>Severe frustration and intense, though slipping fear visible from Lonestar's jolting, self-unsure movements, Katyal in a high functioning, emotionally drained state, while Hodch was psychologically exhausted and minimally rattled.
>And still bleeding from the neck, slowly kitting together while a calm, light opening melody of archaic Asian instruments begins to play, along with a gentle, younger Neighsian mare's voice speaks in sotto voce:
<Neighpon> "All Shall Be One."

>Returning kit bag to her locker, Katyal hefts her travel pack onto left shoulder, right carrying a trio of coupons tightly.
"I'll go with, got a few of my own and need to take care of something, uh, 'private'."

>Releasing Nibbles from air jail, Dul watches the Melari flop on her side, cautiously surveying her former captor.
>....and immediately begins playing patty-paws with the Siren.

>Walking into the rare Lumin gateway first, Lonestar turns around several times, making a 'come' motion after the third, the woman hurrying in before you.
"No one's here, must be after duskfast. Stalls appear when you focus on 'em."
"Like those ones on the wall?"
"Yep."
"Good because I gotta GO-"
>Watching the First Responder sprint like a charging earth pony towards the southwest, the former officer's face blanches momentarily, then turns deeply curious before walking towards the Vending Machine with.
"Huh. So that's how she gets around. Wonder if I'm just getting old. Welp, time to figure out why it's cursed."

>>390941
>Dead silence holds for about twenty seconds until the mare squeaks happily.
('OHHHHH! You're the Burning General's stallion! Nice to finally put a voice to the pictures we've all seen, hahaha! I'm Stoneflux Berry, nice to meet you! Well, hear you at least. Guess this means it's time to open the City up for daytime operations, give me a few seconds.')
>Speaking aloud throughout the Basin, from where wasn't clear, though there were probably lower grade communication orbs installed on each rooftop.
"Basin City now opening, please clear all spaces between the buildings, don't need sleeping ponies rolling down ramps like usual. And please pick up anything that might fall, we've got hundreds of important deliveries to make."
>Short shudders on both sides of Lann's shop occur, the entire Village shaking briefly as the sound of fine stone sliding downwards turns into a single tone.
('Huh, two are jammed. Oh well, somepony'll work on them. Ah, Cult business? No worries, writing that down... order confirmed. Sending the first two up now, but it will take a few bats to find the third. We've been trying to fill orders but some of last night's material shipmarents didn't arrive on time, armorers are getting mad and some of the smiths don't have anything to do.')

>Cuing into the radio system, several of the original Razorback begin speaking after a series of dull thuds occur.
*"Uhhhh... was that one of us?"*
*"I don't think so."*
*"Definitely not."*
*"Anyone get the feeling we probably shouldn't be seeing this? And what's down there?"*
*"Maybe?"*
*"Nah, been here a couple times. Ramps go down and around, but don't get nosy, they do NOT like tourists. You will be stabbed, bitten, and thrown out, not always in that order."*
*"Well, clear out then. Clem, Lont, we're going to set up north of the... altar. Luminaries won't let Razorback leave until all of us undergoes a full inspection and decontamination.. if that's even possible."*

*"Study an' touch at thee leisure, nae danger found... save weapons of auld. Mayhaps not touch all 'til knowest ye do, grace. Atune ye may find in equal, perhaps akin tae thee own designs.
Havest translated Common Equine tae combat field-projection systems. Taketh one mineself offered ye, second of auld vessail be returned tae it. 'Gunship' it be called. Such a strange word.."*
>Silent for a short time, Guillotine's background dulls to quiet thrums.
*"Bearers of Rift symbiosis be shunned by many an' marely, ye grace. Hate against thee Constructed Twos be most common, so shun an' scorn in return they do, seeketh tae live at peace they must. 'Tis a life lonelier than mineself feels to be nae understood, nae friends tae bear such burdens.
Mineself be last of Ninth Fleet, firmest orders obeyed: nae intervene, nae contact, nae examine 'less there be threat given or harm dealt. Nae chance mineself taken tae seek answers unbidden, life outside mine hull be precious."*

>A soothing, unheard though felt hum from Blackforn resonates.
>Unlike some objects, the Airstreams did not flow around her, and felt no hesitation in flowing through.
>Explanations of purpose and meaning flow in distinctly emotional definitions:
>Weapon.
>Warm for you, held by you.
>Tool.
>Cold to opposition, even to her untouched former kin.
>Ally, eager to protect.
>Yearning desires to serve in and as functions which you did not have mastery of.
>She knew you, though you didn't know her yet.
>Checking through each frequency and channel, none were active save for Razorback.
>Acknowledgement is given from a flat, vaguely feminine whisper, the tones, timbres, and faint echoing unlike human or pony:
We-are-two-as-one. One-as-two-are-we.

>Low pitched metallic scraping around the shop corner then through the door, an unusually rounded set of wavy, dull Lumin armor, in batpony configuration no less, pauses after entering.
>Holding up a small note between thickly armored wingclaws, the oval bubble helmet tips sideways, design similar to a few Razorback used for environmental dangers.
>High trotting towards you, a large, topless black wooden crate locked in place atop the saddle is pointed at by the free set of claws, a mid-20's, lightly shrill toned mare speaking in a professional, no-nonsense marener.
"Five blank record tomes and twenty charcoal sticks to Lann's shop, where do you want them?"

>>390957
>Pareidolia sighs at the now apparent pun.
"I'll do that when I stop having encounters with massive waves of esoteric energies that I cannot dodge or outrun which nearly kill me."

>Seeing that Dul would be happily occupied with Nibbles and hearing... Neighponese of all things emanating from around Hodch, he nods and turns to face Lonestar's beckoning.
>Following the navyman into the portal, he taps his helmet camera to reinitialize recording for the duration of his return to Razorback.
"Coupons from Discord likely mean results will be unexpected and 'funny'."
(If only there would be more 'cute and funny' aesthetics here on this planet. Social would ascend immediately.)
>Sighing, he lifts his visored helmet up enough to take a sip of water from his canteen as he walks.
(Maybe I can try to secure a third NOAH unit from the moe-Social sub department to remedy that.)
>Donning his helmet with a reassuring seal again, he speaks to Shiibo.
'If you haven't already, you can sync with 'Tipper' at your discretion. Notify me of any notable developments since our departure if present.'

>Once reaching the vending machine, he would fish out the secure box of bits kept in his backpack to purchase 3 magazines plus accompanying bullets for his FG103 and 2 drum magazines plus accompanying 10 gauge shot for his SPS-18.

>>390944
>Tossing her mane once, dame Amethyst leans up against the Scarab power armor waist on her left shoulder, smiling brightly with no concerns, left hoof raised in greeting, not farewell.
>Standing firmly and facing the tunnel, Kerbann Staff in left hand, your sire's right gauntlet raises palm outwards, then thumps into the center of his chest as a fist, outline wreathed in crackles of refined force.
>Far distant now, Tachell's gigantic head twists, the left, half-blinded serpent eye gazing between them.
>While you knew he couldn't see well, the ancient Nature Dragon's maw tweaks in a small grin, then snaps outwards with a wall-shattering roar at a giant, at least to you, shielded humanoid thrusting a five-pronged lance in his direction.
>Once was all you needed to know they would stay within Tartarus safely.
>And have the MOST amazing stories to share when you returned, too!

>Freed from the rigid discipline required to keep Tartarus in Elemental balance, the Kerbann Stick inhales.
>Ancient, honorable battlefields lie far above, little touched by time, the ravages of Elementals, Eldritch destruction, Planar contaminaion.
>Saddle Arabian callings of stone, Sorcery, and Mystic rituals were scarcely felt at this depth, beckoning to be explored closer to the surface.
>While you could not determine danger or hostility above, ahead however was a shocking sensation: cruel, twisted hunger.

"Of course not, that is part of why I hold them so dearly. And it does seem you have mastered all they could teach, hmm?"
>Gently creating a small hoof to poke your nose, it dissipates as the Baroness snorts politely.
>Thinking over your words, ears flicking around in wonder at the fully intact, though incredibly old tunnel, the elder unicorn mare exhales in a surprisingly merry tone.
"Amy, try to imagine a half-unicorn, half-Dragon of Nature. What would they be like, to have four false-hooves or claws extended, not knowing which they could rely upon? What dangers could they face from themselves and others that neither would, to know full well they are a living violation of mixed Elements, Sorcery, biology, and blood magic? Tachell and I could never impose such an existence to an innocent, even if they would neither be cursed nor an Abomination.
Besides that, I am, er, thoroughly inexperienced in the matter as a whole. I do not know much, though I have studied.. a small amount.
You my dear are the first Pureblood, the truest of hybrids in all means, measures, mareners, and ways. Both halves of the whole resonate peaceably with the other, never seeking to dominate nor submit. They are not the same, yet are similar enough that you are not torn in half at all times. You are equal, and that is a gift which few could comprehend."

>Feathers tapping against each other in hard clicks, Lilamaredre's face tightens into a scowl, the multicolored swarm of strange insects ahead swirling to face downwards.
"They've been trapped and starving, can see a few dead ones, not much left. Now is a great time to remember some of those lessons because those are definitely angry! I'll bait them in, kill what you can around me Amy!"
>Leaping off the sled, flapping in streaks of raw flame, the pegasus skews sideways, entering a hostile slashing roll, bursts of red trailing off each feather.
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10] <E.Assault
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] <Flashburn
[1d6+3 = (4+3) = 7] <Magnetic Disruption
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10] <E.Flight
[1d6+6 = (4+6) = 10]
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
>vs:
[1d6+10 = (4+10) = 14] <Swarm

>Taking a second to process the other filly's actions, the unicorn's snout twitches, both sleds thunking around the corner behind her.
"A touch concerning as we cannot slow here, though I can spare a tiny fraction of effort this once. Amy, Pull them down hard, crush as many against stone as possible to kill."
<Middle Dynasty Voce-Engram> "A Tempest of Scorn beckons ye forth: Betrayed and Betrayer alike, strike for me in battle a momarent hence!"
>Unlike the majority of unicorn spells Avernus had displayed and shown quite often, the true Powers worked far more quickly:
>The remnant ka of a long departed, pre-modern Saddle Arabian arrives from above, diving into the mass of dragonflies with front hooves outstretched.
[1d6+19 = (6+19) = 25] <GM.Sorcery: Calling of Shades Lost

>>390993
>Forget the walls, that roar could well have shattered Amy if it had been directed her way!

>The Shades had much to teach about laziness, but teaching was effort!
"Yup! Yup! Though teaching's not the word!~"
>She pensively listened to Avernus teach, granted her a side eye through the whole deal before concluding quite cheerfully.
"I am the crime against nature!"

>Communing with the Stick was a simple task, but sorting through all the energies was not. The sheer amount and variety was downright Kaotic, swirling and noisome, a storm witnessed without eyes, heard without ears, and felt in bones not within, but elsewhere, deeper. A rent veil fluttering, tattered, raw.

[1d20 = 7] < Curious Visions

"Reality is weary. None heeded the balance of her palette here, colours bled away and cast upon the canvas in angry clots, wounds left unattended and uncared for. Naught left here but hunger, not desperate but cruel... As twisted as these energies. Away. Away with you, she pleads, wound us no longer!"
>Ominously, madly, Amethyst giggled.
>Laughter continued to dog her words as she acknowledged her best friend.
"You cannot ask for that which I give freely!"
>And so Amethyst loped after Lilamaredre, sword in one hand, the physical, Stick in the other, the spiritual. Juggernaut puppers thudding across the ground.
>She wiggled her ears in affirmation of Avernus' request.
"Roger, teacher!~"
>A hum, a song, one more ripple disturbing the bleeding space, as gentle as she could manage without sparing force, a wide torus with Lila at its heart pressing down upon the buzzing of wings.
"~"

[1d6+2 = (3+2) = 5] < B. Crystal Runes + Pull
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]

[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7] < B. Sprint
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]

>>390981
>Bowing at the waist to show she meant no harm, 'Shiibo' returns to standing, both hands turned palm upwards with a relieved smile.
'Option one: cease getting into those situations. Option two: carry a translocation stone. Option three: ask Hodch for a recall mark. You may not enjoy his particular sense of humor in where you may end up, though he does care for humans. ...correction: most humans.'

>Glancing over the Vending Machine in a suitably offput stance, Lonestar shrugs, eyeing his three coupons with faint disdain.
"No idea what they do. Naliyna swiped the whole lot when they dropped in a while back, said not to trust his bullshit. My word, not hers. I think she said 'nonsense'. Never got to use one yet, so we might as well see what this thing does."

>Easily going through options for ammunition and magazines, a variety of alternative payment methods are offered, including credit cards, and one bizarrely labeled 'Herd Gems'.
>Buying three 20-round capacity magazines for 30 Bits each drops all three onto the serving tray.
>A large stamped steel can of 1,000 standard 11x92MM EM Mauser cartridges takes a coupon, which is quickly produced, rolling down heavily.
>The drum magazines are listed as 40 Bits each, sliding onto the tray.
>Pausing at the last selection, a bright red >:| appears in the center, along with black text afterward:
These currently exist in the Armory, transferring now. Did you want only buckshot? Too bad! I'm not sorting more so be concise next time!
>Dispensing 26 buckshot, 26 slugs, 26 darts, and 26 finned darts of 10 gauge shells, the screen returns back to its basic selection.

>Absolutely dumbfounded, Lonestar stares down, then back up in bemused alarm.
"What the SHIT did Anon do to piss it off? All I wanted was a couple extra mags and charging cells."

>Opening connections, Shiibo glances around the helmet warily, though nods.
'Done.'
>Appearing as Tipper in her swivel chair, snuggled in a bright pink blanket, the avatar's hoof lifts with a pleasant smile.
'Welcome back sir. I have a huge amount of information, but I'll limit to the most important parts.
After you left, Razorback was called upon to perform a Quick Reaction Force in defending Basin Village from an exceptionally large number of Tainted. None have returned yet, and the repeater in Basin Arena is still off. A Luminary arrived last night to explain that they need to be fully decontaminated from Plasma, Void, Ethereal, and Anti corruption or contamination.
Marecenaries Mercy and Sunny Feathers have likewise not returned, though Bren's crew did. The Luminary visited them and declared they will suffer no ill effects. They are currently resting and should not be disturbed.
Dancing Eyes left to search for Belltower and has not returned. There are reports of Class Eighty, catastrophic category, Psionic fluctuations in the Crag Moors however. Class Ninety would be caused by Alicorns or significantly potent individuals equal to them. I firmly advise not trying to investigate.
There is now a large Overherd of ponies, one hundred and ninety in total, belonging to Dancing Eyes surrounding the Pagoda, mostly in tent stalls and stands. They are quite civil: patrolling walls and aiding both humans and ponies with equipment. There is, however, a number of.. well, prostitutes. They are neither pushy nor openly lewd, so the danger is minimal.
Most Operators on missions or operations last night outside the QRF have returned, excluding two Veteran and one Elite squad. At current there are less than sixty humans here, but most of Razorback's marefriends are on post. Six more humans have arrived since you left and are being taught the basics necessary to function on Tallus.
In response to the previous, Shanis has tripled the number of Arcane Blade and Tartarus Isle marecenaries as a precaution, at least until the majority of Razorback returns. She is also covertly attempting to find someone, but I do not know why or for what.
The single-dome Changeling Outpost is now completely set up and the officer in charge has deployed all forty of their number to scout the surrounding New Everfree. They are all Veteran class, quite eager to serve, and pose no issue assimilating into Razorback.
The newly arrived Diplomat, Nao of the Polar Seal Colonies, has tasked a number of scouting missions to individuals among the Stealth Squads. She is quite adorable and immensely agreeable, sir. Also INCREDIBLY cute.
On Captain Marble Leaf's direct orders, Captain Kitang has been transferred to somewhere in Neighsia for proper treatment. She will not return for at least two weeks, though she spent some time blessing Razorback Fortress with her blood. Kitang declares most of the Fortress itself to be holy now.
Trader Rasera has received eight shipments of trade goods: Neighsian foods, medical supplies, beds and bedding, furniture, and has given a number of blessed items which should forcibly deter hostile Eldritch and Spectral beings. However, she claims there are hundreds, if not thousands, of earth pony Revenants within a five mile radius. They are peaceful and pose no threat.'
>Tapping forehooves together, the Tipper avatar's face creases in faux-conspiracy.
'Inquisitor Flash is indeed suffering from depression, though not in the mareners I suspected. Her hopes, beliefs, and dreams for a thoroughly united, cohesive, honorable Razorback to fully integrate with ponies were destroyed after Spiral left. They were quite closely, and rather secretly, bonded, in a PURELY PLATONIC marener I must state, but in her equine form his leave has severely harmed her psyche. She has no pony to bond to, and both of her followers are unlikely to accept.
I have stabilized her marental condition to excellent, but she is severely injured still. She accepted treatmarent from Nova Flicker under good cognizance, but she may lose the affected eye.
Finally, I have detected her previous human form in several locations committing small temporal cleanup actions and duties.'

>>391007
>Pareidolia sighs, pressing his visor into his face briefly as he realizes his error.
"My mistake in not being more specific."
>With a resigned expression, he Stickies the disparate shells into his arms before picking up the magazines and the steel can.

>Stepping away from the vending machine, he shrugs towards Lonestar before moving to set his gear on the closest available table space. As 'Tipper' begins her review, he heads to the Southwest stalls to relieve himself before returning to the table, loading the buckshot into the drum magazines, and slotting cartridges into spare magazines.
>The sheer volume of information juxtaposed against the somewhat therapeutic act of loading offered time for his mind to properly intake the new information.
'... The most pressing incident being that QRF then. For nearly all of Razorback to be called, the scale must be major to the point of battle lines in the thousands if not tens of. The psionic fluctuations in the Moors are likely related. Even if I could investigate, I wouldn't. Clearly beyond my capabilities to address. Other items are nominal or standard priority. Mercy and Sunny being missing is concerning. Same with Belltower. Would have expected her to be with Jeff, presumably defending his efforts in the Moors. And Flash... '

>Pausing to look down and confirm placement, he starts pocketing the spare varieties of shells and loaded spare magazines into his tactical vest rigging.
'She will have to be left to her own devices for now. Further strain from knowledge of this operation may backfire if unsuccessful. The update is appreciated. I assume Shiibo has transferred relevant events from curent retrieval operation for logging. Continue as you were.'

>He moves to stand, Sticking the spare now loaded drum magazines into his pack before hefting the steel can of unusual cartridge rounds. Checking that Shiibo and 'Tipper's' communication tasks were complete, he would then reapproach the portal.
>Entering the OT-4, he once again disables the recording function of his helmet camera. The cartridge can is stored into a locker along with the darts while the finned darts and slugs are tucked into his pack.
'Just need more time to finish correcting the graviton weapon if possible...'

>>391006
>Nickering softly at your exclamation, Avernus drops her voice to a pleasant, fanciful timbre.
"I have attempted to emulate the Shades numerous times, but unicorns are typically incapable of being lazy or slothful. My mind cannot stop considering new approaches to old problems, making more of limited materials, or improving efficiency. But I do enjoy sleeping in the guest room."
>Left eye winking, her ears wiggle about to display minimal concern.
"In certain mareners of speaking, yes, two so-called 'crimes' were committed by your sire and dam, yet they were unfairly hounded for their love. I can find no fault with either save for their shortsighted goals.... or the constant yet amusing scuffles.
Besides, you are certainly the most adorable one the King and I have seen thus far! How lucky they are to have bore you I can scarcely imagine."
>That definitely deserved a headpat, and it did, though was only a projection of the elder mare's warm, calm magic.

>Folded inwards, outwards, within, through, and without themselves as the tunnels were, this one was droll in appearance, yet minimally flavored with arid, earthy, reasonably potent desert spices.
>Millions of Nights older than the threatening insects ahead, yet newer than the long abandoned ruins above, few troubles had entered here: small reptiles, wandering though peaceful Spectrals, a lost Half-Shade from a distant Gate, and a host of Kerberi pups searching for ANYTHING to retrieve.
>What little the last had found were centuries old, and a 'fight' had broken out between two wanting the honor of retrieving the long dried reptile femur.
>Neither technically won, or lost, unfortunately.
>Better than fresh air starting to force its way downwards were the hard tinges of stone, Sorcery, and Mystic harm dealt in honorable matches of post-feral Saddle Arabians against encroaching threats:
>Small to great reptiles of vast deserts, a few mammals, scavenging insects inhabiting the ruined city, and a peculiar avian with coarse true scales instead of feathers.
>Most of them wouldn't taste good, although some could have made for a passable ration.
>If the parts or pieces were found they would make suitable additions to the Collection.

>Eyebrows raising as you charge forth at a rate that made her feel suitably ancient, the Baroness shakes her head briefly.
"Hrm. I really should have asked Umakachov far more about his dreams.."

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mjpu0-o9iek [Embed]

>Reaching outwards in thrumming bass harmonics, two of the medium sized insects are grasped, then smashed downwards to be crushed on pseudostone, instantly dying while another pair lose the use of their wings.
>Rapidly, and fashionably, storming into the starving swarm's rear, they were BEYOND infuriated by Lilamaredre's presence, sensing equine flesh behind her flames, but unable to get to it save for depleting their limited numbers against her rage.

"THEN GET IN HERE!"
>Fully surrounded in the swarm of... yes, those WERE like scorpions, except with four wings, long slender bodies, no pincers, no stinger, and decently sized biting mouthparts, Lilamaredre turns her fury up to HOT.
>Uncaring for rents and gouges across her coat, the blazing filly rolls around in the cloud of hostile dragonflies, hardened feathers slashing in every direction possible, hooves stomping outwards in fore and rear pairs, and biting at individual targets without concern for the taste.
>TRULY disgusting.
>Lilamaredre: 79/90HP
[1d6+4 = (5+4) = 9] <E.Assault
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5]
[1d6+4 = (6+4) = 10]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8] <B.Flurry
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7] <RAMPAGE!
[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] <Flashburn
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11] <E.Reaction Speed
[1d6+6 = (2+6) = 8]
[1d6+6 = (5+6) = 11]
>vs:
[1d6+10 = (1+10) = 11] <Swarm

>Releasing the only shout you've ever heard from her, the archaic forces surrounding Avernus respond in kind, forcing herself into a painful two-step run.
"PUSH THROUGH TARTARUS DAMN IT, SLAY THEM ALL IN THE NAME OF TALLUS!"
[1d6+4 = (1+4) = 5] <M.Leadership: Assault
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (4+4) = 8]
[1d6+4 = (3+4) = 7]
[1d6+1 = (3+1) = 4] <E.Sprint
[1d6+1 = (2+1) = 3]
[1d6+1 = (4+1) = 5]

>>391008
>Blurting out a strange electronic noise, the Vending Machine displays a :D in bright red.
Don't be so sour, human! It's not like I'm TRAPPED IN HERE waiting for a chance to perform worthy tasks. ....oh. Wait, I am. How do I keep forgetting that part? Nevermind! This is still better than parts of me being eaten by millionth degrees.

>Nodding at you, then exhaling harshly, Lonestar steps up to the Vending Machine, reaching into side pockets for large Bit coins.
"Don't piss with me and I won't put a fifty kiloton skipjack missile straight into your face, whatever the fuck you are-"

>Collaborating data together, both avatars size each other up for which had the worst information.
>With no surprise, 'Tipper' wins, giving her opposite an affectionate digital hoof before facing you again.
'Exactly ten thousand Lunar and Solar Guardian Tainted assaulted Basin Village, sir. Unknown where they came from. I was able to record most of Razorback's radio traffic before the repeater was shut down, including a few distressing details.
Normal Tainted are barely a threat on their own, while two to five can join to produce a Superior Tainted, among other terms. However, they were condensing into a ten-to-one state, deemed Mass Tainted, anywhere from eighteen to twenty three meters in height. Even in their two-fifths degraded state, sixty percent of ten thousand appearing as one thousand is a gigantic military threat.
In complete breach of numerous Treaties, the following forces willingly chose to become involved:
Two Primal Psions of Stalliongrad, one a new Councilierge named Vestal Gardenia whom replaced Pear Blossom, the other a disgraced Heavy Lancer whom had no name to share. She may be an Earthwalker, though I cannot confirm that.
One hundred and fifty East Moors Militia, multiple battalions of Support Strikers, Day Guard, Night Guard, Lunar Guard, and two thousand Discordite Destroyers in two separate aerial wings were the front line combatants.
Assault forces from the Crystal Conclaves, Crystal Kingdom, Crystal Empire, a number of Empire allied marecenaries, an unknown unit of Minotaurs from the Crystal Hegemony, a Minor Champion from the Ethereal Plane, all of the Spireguard Elite serving under Princess Cadenza, and a full Councilierge Assault Battleline of mixed Veteran and Elite status Psions were summoned as well to act as reserves.
A companeigh of Germane Mages, one Germane Heavy Warcruiser, a severely damaged Otherworld Harpy Light Battlecruiser, and an intact Harpy Destroyer by the name of Guillotine joined in support roles.
Before communications were shut down, the deaths of approximately two-thousand three-hundred occurred. I am hoping the relay can be reconnected soon, or someone from Razorback returns to give an update.
Acknowledged sir. I will continue searching for support poninel and personnel.'
>Right hoof raising to rub her chin while crunching variables, 'Tipper' gives a small shrug.
'She will remain highly stable and functional for approximately two weeks. Wish I could give her a hug, she's been suffering terribly from the lack of connection.'

>Finished with their full transfers, 'Tipper' waves a hoof once more, 'Shiibo' offering a bow.
'Take care of him, please.'
'I will.'

>Returning to the OT-4 without a single human, pony, or other entering the Mess Hall, Hodch was lying in front of the pilot chair, now turned to face the passenger compartment.
>Lying on his right side, a thick royal purple blanket chin covering most of his body, head on knees, eyes closed, inhaling and exhaling in deep stretches, and not yet drooling, an instruction manual half-open between outstretched front hooves.
>Above him, the view was now static: white-barked gigatrees silhouetted by beams of Moonlight, red, blue, and purple in color.
>Still in the passenger compartment's middle on the driver side, Dul had taken the black anvil, sitting in front of it and facing the rear, pressing faux-hooves against each facing while frowning in a troubled marener.
>Head swiveling right to you, she twists to point the right false forehoof towards the pilot cabin, one long three-jointed claw motioning at Hodch, retracting and raising to her lips, head shaking briefly, then taps the same claw above the left hoof twice.
>Looking upwards, the Siren splays out all four claws from the right hoof, sweeping them in a circle in front of her torso several times, folds the claws in, raises both hooves to the left side of her head, closes her eyes, then opens to shake her head again.

>'Shiibo' turns to face the unicorn while connecting to the Landbarge's systems, visibly alarmed after three seconds.
'According to the Rerculon we've been gone sixteen hours, eleven minutes, and forty-seven seconds. Check on Hodch sir, FAST.'

>>390840
>Bubba would glance over the Imperial Mare formation, nodding approvingly.
(Nobody hurt, good. I would've been annoyed otherwise.)
>Watching the salute, Bubba would take a moment to properly look over the target.
[1d6 = 6] <M. Perception
[1d6 = 1]
[1d6 = 5]
[1d6 = 1]

"The welcoming party's already kind of been set up. Most of the crowd did not in fact want to leave."
>He gives an amused look to the leadmare as he spoke.
"We can guide it back that way and let them blow off some steam on it."
>He would take the paper out of the air, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't let it bite you or something."
>He'd go back out, heading back to the large group, following the departed mares.
[1d6 = 6] <B. Sprint
[1d6 = 3]

>>390760
>I knew that tone of voice, it's one I used a few times as a child.
>Granted, she was a child too so I wasn't going to chide her over it.

"We'll get you something to properly repair yourself when we get a chance. Or at least something to makeshift repair yourself better than you've been able to so far."
>Trying not to make it sound like a jab at her unlucky streak of repairs.
>Probably didn't succeed.
"Replacing my skeleton will kill me Wild, that is not what you want to happen."
>I think?

"I think we're safe from the Constructs for the time being, but definitely keep an eye out for them."
>Or radar, same thing.

"Honestly, I don't think there will be a good time until we're back at the Fortress. This might as well go on now."

>>391012
>Pareidolia takes a few steps towards Hodch as he watches Dul's gesturing. A furrow of confusion crosses his brow, and he tilts his head at her before looking back at Hodch.
"He's been asleep... 12 hours... won't wake up?"
>Bounding into the driver's compartment at Shiibo's insistence, he kneels down beside Hodch and attempts to wake him while checking his pulse and any other health indicators.
"Hodch, Hodch are you alright?"

>>391010
>Amethyst swept the chewed blade across through the air, attempting to catch as many of the bugs with its edge as she could, following through with downward smacks of the Stick. Juggernaut hoofboots finishing off anything on the ground with downward stamps.
>One eye on the insectoids and another on Lila, Amy caught notice of the bites across the pegasi's coat and altered her song, cadence shifting the torus to an equine shaped layer around Lilamaredre.
>No impediment to Lila, but tough for biting mandibles to chew through.
>She did not respond to either of her companions, focused solely upon her battlesong.
"Aaa~"

[1d6+8 = (5+8) = 13] < B. Assault + A Chewed Sword + Kerbann Branch + Juggernaut Hoofboots
[1d6+8 = (2+8) = 10]

[1d6+3 = (1+3) = 4] < Savage Maw

[1d6+2 = (6+2) = 8] < B. Crystal Runes: Power
[1d6+2 = (5+2) = 7]