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44700 No.207806[View All]

>If you would like to join, make a sensible loadout here at:
>And if you want to bring in something special or anything not on the list, ask to shop it in.

>When you're done, read over the Operator's Handbook:


>Or the Hoofbook if you wanna be a pony:


>Then drop a post here.

>Overall Pastebin:


>Fortress Map:


>Bulletin Board:


>Previous Thread:


Welcome back, pony cowboys…
308 posts and 22 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.

44700 No.215682

>Giving the blue quartz-like material a look, your hand was already cold by the time you could give it a close inspection.
>Unlike Crystal Empire coldstones that tended to be large, imperfectly faceted numbers of crystalline materials squeezed together, the frostame chunk was clear enough to see through, yet was operating on heat-absorbing principles rather than heat-negating.
>Amusing as that was, the granite plate drew the Ferron mare's attention much more so, failing to hide her interested peer, and a slight smile.
"Still, that's pretty impressive being stuck in amber for that long. Most objects with Covil script I've come across or found are in much worse shape. You might have something really special in your hoofs, I'd suggest taking great care of it 'til you find somepony that knows how to read it."
>Examining the unusually blocky runes, they reminded you of earth pony script except for distinct sweeping and curving lines, both respectively looking more pegasi and unicorn runes than much else.

>Succumbing to a quick burst of inspiration, upon a much closer, quick study, the script was exactly like earth earth pony runes save for a greater amount of symbolism rather than direct iconography.

>Sharing a number of features in the same runic calligraphy style that Caliya used, while you couldn't understand the meanings they were definitely of a military nature.
>Due to your experience with the former Honor Guard protecting Razorback Company, it was fairly likely that one of them understood the basics of Covil script, or could direct you to somepony that did.

>Flicking a secondary feather towards the suspicious driftwood, the mare's nose twitches painfully as she sniffs at her hoof.

"Ehh, can tell you right now it isn't natural, the color alone tells me it's probably from the Rift.. or maybe the Elemaretal Plane of Earth? Hard to tell on that one, sorry, I'm no unicorn. Ant's a nice collector's piece though, too bad it's not a noble or royal specimaren, would be worth way more. Be right back, going to see if there's some fronds to wrap them up in."

>Partially regretting your decision as the filly's visage explodes into something between overeager happiness and fillyish glee, passing through the workshop's aisles it was clear that the other Ferron were doing their best to avoid looking towards you, although the small, careful nods of respect given in your direction were rather surprising.

>The filly's position in the Sea's Bounty was either quite high, or they simply didn't want to be involved in potentially lewd circumstances.

>Reaching the small dressing room recently built from local woods, the filly enters a few moments after you, both of her wings covered in a ridiculous number of dull white measuring strings, also carrying a sheet of white palm bark and a charcoal pencil in her mouth.

>Surprisingly enough, at least to you, the young Ferron was intensely professional, seeking only to take measuremarents.
>Giving bashful apologies upon touching or even looking at certain dangerous regions of your anatomy, her unusually acceptable work ethics extended to further apologetic mumbles at taking second measuremarents, then furiously scribbling them down, all without blushing or fumbling about.
>Lifting a rather exacting diagram of your body structure up for her own perusal, the filly's eyes turn to rove across you for a minute, then finally nods.
>Waving at your clothes in a motion that probably meant it was a good idea to wear them again, she dashes from the room towards the opposite side of the Sea Shack, loud noises indicating she was collecting the necessary materials for her intended project.

>Exiting the fitting/dressing room, the filly was in the process of building a driftwood and bamboo human caricature, surrounded by a plethora of rolled drake skin, numerous rolls of thread, and a set of large needles that wouldn't be out of place in Lann's work space.

>On the front counter, both the piece of driftwood, and presumably the preserved ant, had been wrapped in sheets of dull yellow palm fronds, and even tied with cotton string.

44700 No.215771

"Hottest thing I can hoofle is one of those Mareixican tacos.. or the spa a block south, everything else? Not a chance."
>Replacing her hooves back onto the desk in a professional marener, Three-Point's eyes squint in pensive, yet humored concern.
"If you were thinking I wanted 'other' stuff that some Crystal ponies wanna do with humans.. maybe later once I get to know you all? I'm not a, you know, 'real mare' just yet. Maybe in a few years."

>Recalling Spiral's heavily annotated volume, the most common reference to civil filly or mare hooves was a preoccupation with keeping them comfortable, clean, and well massaged due to health concerns since they were less active than colts and stallions.

"Consider this a 'price of business' on.. short.. …notice. Hold on a second-"
>Waving off your statement with a small frown, her expression shifts into one of contemplation, sitting forwards to read the screen.
>Eyebrows raising, snout scrunching, and biting the left side of her cheek all in under five seconds, the young mare sits back, clopping her front hooves together.
>Eyes flicking up with an expression you couldn't translate, her ears flatten in great annoyance.
"There's something else you could do to make contact with Ash Kicker easier. Short explanation: Razorback is somewhere north of the Starborn Villages in the New Everfree, she apparently knows that much. There's a few common plants there that she wants dried samples of, not living ones. Any native grasses, flowers, leaves from shrubs, and the New Everfree seqoyya trees. Posting says she wants to do a comparison study on regional biomes to see what biological differences there are between New and Old Everfree. Doesn't say what she's offering for it but she's offered to share all the results. Might tell Razorback a lot more about why the New Everfree flora and mammals are more dangerous."
>Poking at the screen several times, Peach Quartz sourly glares at whatever she was able to see, then waves towards the rear door apologetically.
"Now I have to do all the crystalwork.. if you wanna go watch the shipmarents then head on through there, just don't touch anything please."

44700 No.215776

>Bringing up the tech-knight's limited information for a proper examination, 'Spiral' facehoofs, followed by a quick, exasperated sigh.
"This is getting old.. I understand technological and natural resonances, just not 'magical' ones. Going to need a few thousand more hours of documarentation and study to keep up with your information requests, sir."

>Spreading the more relevant Honor Guard records and notes on the varied Dynasty ruins, as you read through a previously unnoticed pattern appears:

>Early Dynasty elemaretal experiments took place in massive, hardened underground arenas where damage would be localized or easily repaired.
>Digging through the Canterlot College of Magic records, it was apparent that the Middle Dynasty's researchers understood the often volatile issues, transferring their more refined experimarents back to where they'd been created for additional study.
>Naturally, the A.I. had failed to piece such heavily strung out esoteric information together in a coherent marener.

>Lifting the abnormally heavy, roughly five pound screen, a number of basic symbols on the top read, from left to right, the following:

>Cardinal Direction, Travel Speed which showed a flat 0 Hooves Per Second, Geography, Regional Map, Height Distance, Depth Distance, Elemaretal Detection Radius, Resonance Detection Radius, Flora Detection Radius, Fauna Detection Radius, and Detection Strength.
>The last two were not runes you knew offhand, and upon trying to translate them, the second to last was roughly 'chest storage', which was probably some form of file storage.

"I've found nothing to suggest that he wouldn't attempt to perform restoration, sir, but I've noticed a less-than-obvious trend: your records show the average equine's marentality is different than human ones, yet they eventually reach similar conclusions. Where a human wouldn't ask for aid out of pride or arrogance a pony has fewer compulsions. My analysis is this: Spiral WAS several ponies, which meant he had all the necessary backup, skills, research capability, and lethality necessary to undertake an expedition on his own. Updating.. estimated in one minute. This isn't standard hexadecimal I'm dealing with sir-"
>While the A.I. taps away at his internal screen, as you swing the sapphirine helmet around to face the doorway, a barely corporeal image of Flash appears.
>A shower of white-hot sparks cascade off the Inquisitor's horn, appearing in three places at once: left, center, and right of the first bloodstains, the first's face twisted in hatred while visibly shouting.
>The second was sincerely enraged, her facial expressions near-perfectly matching the Tallus equine snarl of an adrenaline rush, while the third was enveloped in a gold cloud, striking forwards in the shape of a giant fist-

>Brought back into reality by the Marquis A.I. swiveling towards you, it lifts both forelegs in an exasperated shrug.

"-irly certain that the real Marquis du Spiral perfected a form of gravitronic wave emission above known frequencies for communication between his lab here, the Master Radio system, and this 'demi-sentient'. They're interlinked, cut one off from the others and the other two pick up the slack from what I'm able to understand. Not one hundred percent positive on this sir, my analysis capabilities are rather poor. Gravity is merely another form of macro-electromagnetic activity and some background radiation interference. Here however I've discovered that 'radiation' doesn't exist, there are a large amount of background energies that could be called radiation, dark matter, light matter, and even something that seems to be null matter that I'm unable to scan. I can tell you that he left some recorded messages of his own to-"
>Pausing, a hoof lifts to display the image of Inquisitor Flash sitting down in the Workshop, A.I. glowering towards it.
"Her. I'm unable to access them or recognize the programming language, sir. What WAS their relationship?"

44700 No.215779

>Entirely nonplussed by the situation, the Zebra mare swivels black eyes upwards for several moments, then back down onto you with a welcoming smile.
"Many thanks to your agreement human one, great are blessings under traveler's sun."
>Bowing her head quickly, she turns with a scowl, then suddenly bolts into the field of mareijuana, shouting something furiously.

>Collecting mature buds from the unusually colored plants for the basic sniff, taste, rub, and oil test, your backpack was nearly bursting upon reaching the field's edge.

>Taking a step outwards, sudden inspiration hits:
>Each strain grown here had been carefully cultivated for specific medical purposes, all of which you'd heard from the various alchemists, whether novice or expert, of Razorback's mare contingent.
>Despite the challenge of extracting and isolating the actively helpful chemicals and enzymes, it was definitely possible to make something that would create the greatest stoner's high ever.
>To the east, a distant, tiny crack of thunder that sounded like a filly laughing in merry approval occurs.
>Must be some real magic going on out here.

>Leaving the thoughts behind, the rather normal wooden hut was little more than a round dome atop north and south facing oval walls.

>Large baskets filled with mareijuana leaves and buds filled most of the interior, though a few contained fruits and vegetables that you knew of, the most baffling of which looked like African cucumber.
>Drifting upside down in the center across a swaying, well worn hammock surrounded by woven couches, a lone, verifiably old Zebra stallion clad in platinum rings was in the middle of exhaling a dense red cloud of smoke.
>Approaching the utterly chilled equine, the right front hoof raises briefly in your direction, his left removing a long pipe from his lips.
>Head turning a fraction, faded black right eye glance you over once, then closes as he nods, speaking in a slow, warm cadence of rhymes.
"Come inside you shall before the Filly of Rain drafts, your questions I will answer until she laughs."

44700 No.215891

>Creating rather impressive Binary representations of themselves across your MIU link, the quartet of Machine Spirits were nonplussed, stating that your apologies were unnecessary since they were quite happy simply being able to serve.
>The Auspex herself scoffs, angrily proclaiming she was once the Admiral of an important orbital weapon station in the Calixis sector and that you had the best support team available.
>Reading out a blip of compressed data, the auspex and helmet deliver their information to you in sync:
>The 'Shadow' abnormality is related to a dimension without light directly connected to Tallus, collectively known as the Void.
>According to rules that the Inquisitor had trouble understanding, Tallus only allows a small number of creatures in.
>Most of the energies from the Void, however, allow one to cross into the shadow of Tallus, the effect of which manifests as reducing one's sound levels, becoming invisible, and potentially drifting into the Void itself in highly specific locations.

>Mildly humored by the question, there were four specific types of unicorns:

>Common Type I, the feral unicorn; little was known save for having minor esoteric capabilities, some collective thought, and considered long extinct except for rumors of potential surviving lineages in harsh regions.
>Common Type II, the half-feral or near-wild unicorn which still exists today; moderate esoteric capabilities, prefer to live in primitive villages well away from modern ponies, more physically adept than the other types, and are often seen alone in small trading hubs on border regions.
>Common Type III, the pre-modern or communal unicorn; moderate to high esoteric capabilities, adaptive, but suffered from intense egotism and a lack of empathy towards other pony species.
>A snide footnote indicates that the communal unicorn species was responsible for enslaving approximately half of the earth pony species, alongside Type III pegasi, and were now gratefully extinct.
>Common Type IV, or the modern unicorn, was distinctly analogous to certain subsets of humans, save for large numbers having eidetic memories.
>As to be expected of truly modern strains, Type IV unicorns are highly individualistic and varied depending on factors such as: where they were born, their lineage, genetic inheritance, average empathy levels, schooling, training, and far more.
>Displaying an ASCII image of a human female of no particular note scratching it's head, the former Admiral wasn't entirely sure on the classifications of other equines yet they were many regional subspecies to be found across Tallus.
>This time the helmet's Machine Spirit transmits, making it known that the Quest for Knowledge and Doctrines of Secrecy were banned; all information obtained is to instead be transferred directly to the Inquisitor's data-station in the Library's underground workshop.
>As for rules, regs, and procedures.. it didn't have any to offer, save for a few bits of helpful advice to keep the Inquisitor's extreme agoraphobia and hatred for pineapples in mind.

>Between the horrific nausea and realizing that the Rogue Trader's personal Flak really was too tight, the auspex waits until you recover to deliver her known information:

>The Vortex Remnant is a living portion of aetheric thinking non-matter, similar to a demigod yet non-hostile unless threatened, that once inhabited the Planar Vortex until it was brought onto Tallus by Princess Luna at a distant point in time.
>It had the unique ability to relocate matter, energy, and certain forms of non-matters from less than a twentieth of a second to five minutes from place to place, although the former Admiral was quick to point out that the vertigo encountered took some time to get used to.

>Hearing loud clicks under your legs, Raindrop Raspberry's wingblades lift up to shield you from the incoming and fairly cold rain.

"The first disturbs me a lot more than the second, really. Tell you what though, I'll hoofle all the sex and stuff for you, and you keep me safe from things that want to turn my insides into outsides, deal?"
>Meanwhile, the Scion takes precisely two steps forwards, unslings his lasrifle to carry downwards in one hand, and then you you hear yet another in the long line of single carapace gloved hands smacking his helmet.

>Instantly returning five human life signs and a single faint, potentially equine signature 380M southwest at a much lower elevation, the auspex hums briefly before determining no transmissions were being sent.

>Pinging that the rain was neutral for acidity, there was a small amount of DNA from unknown piscines, avians, and flora present, indicating the massive cloud formation above was a 'wild' version which functioned as a self-contained aerial biome.
>Identifying the curious building stonework as composed of local slate, basalt, sandstone, and small amounts of granite, much of it was sealed and still viable for habitation, though long abandoned.
>Scouring through the local flora, most of it grasses, flowers, and shrubs, none were listed as concerning, while there were zero detectable fauna within 500M.

>Helmet tipping down momentarily, Chisan makes a quick motion to follow him towards a lower set of terraces.

"Partial boot prints remaining. Raindrop, watch footing. Enginseer, auspex findings?"
>Raindrop strides forwards much less carefully than the Stormtrooper, stepping on what sounded like mud covering flagstones, head twisting back momentarily to give you a short nod.
"Better? First couple times it's rough, after that you get used to it pretty quick."

5c927 No.215895

>Pareidolia taps a finger against the table repeatedly.

"Will need to consult Kunid Erakoi for potential improvements to your subsystems and interfaces. His era is far beyond ours, but our options are limited in who we can trust to improve on Committee equipment."

>As he sifts through the numerous reams, leaflets, and reports, he slowly traces lines between the various Dynasty ruins from the Middle Era with his free hand.

"Then Middle Dynasty experiments would be returned to their origin site for further testing…"

>Mulling over his potential discovery, he glances over the tablet as he sets it down.

>His mouth opens to respond, but stops as three odd afterimages of Flash appear around the Lab.

[Why am I… ? Is there some sort of-]

>He starts, leaning back into the table as they disappear.

>Struggling to process the additional information his A.I. is conveying, he murmurs:

"Did you not see those images of Flash in this room just now? I saw her fighting the Construct-"

>He quickly reaches for his pinksteel dagger's hilt, gripping it firmly as he turns his helmet, searches the room for anything amiss, straining to feel for any abnormalities.

1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]< E. Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

"I don't know, but it began possibly during Razorback's formative years if not earlier. They have history. I-I will need you to reiterate what you spoke of prior to Spiral's gravitonic wave mastery."

6b7f6 No.215974

>In that moment, Mallia was beginning to feel a LITTLE BIT irritated at the custom fitting of the flak armor she was currently wearing.
>She wasn't surprised to it, but the compression of her chest was making it harder to shrug off the nausea as she usually would, as she finds herself heaving while also tugging at the edge of the armor's collar, wincing as she takes a moment to simply breathe, and stare at the clouds.

(Piscines in the clouds…)

>Those news in particular got the girl to half-open her mouth in awe, curiosity starting to take foothold in her mind; so badly wishing she could learn more about this self-contained biome and it's fauna.

>She took a moment to wholeheartedly thank the Auspex, for whom from now on she will default to call as 'Admiral Auspex', unless it remembered it original name, in that case she will use that.

>Infact, out of politeness and curiosity, she asks for all of the Inquisitorial machine spirit's 'names', if they had any to give, before she gives them one by accident like she did with her own Auspex!

>Her little brother really is a cutie though.

>She then quickly snaps back to reality as the first Raindrops land on her cheeks and lips; making her shudder; tightening her shoulders, before glancing down to the wings that were trying to shelter her.

>The gesture, alongside those words, tease up an amused little smile.
>Looking up again at the sound of a hand smacking helmets; which really makes Mallia giggle.

"Deal! Alongside you, the machine spirits, and our great Stormtrooper, we are sure to defeat ALL our enemies."
>She replied, with all due seriousness and eager confidence, followed by a deep, determined nod and smirk.
>And maybe a little rub on one of the metallic wings shielding her in thanks.

>Though regardless she gives off a shudder almost immediately afterwards, not used to cold, wet weather such as this. Huffing and quickly returning said hand to rub and pat along her forearm to try to generate SOME heat.

>Whilst she finally clears her throat, and shifts her glance to the Stormtrooper to answer him…

>She takes a second long pause to review the Admiral's findings, then starts to smile with some hope. Answering with full confidence in her voice.

"Auspex indicates that there are five confirmed human lifesigns, and another faint lifesign in proximity, which is confirmed as an equine in the area. Distance 380 meters, direction southwest, at a lower elevation than our own."

"As a side note, while the buildings ahead are long abandoned, they are still largely sealed and could provide shelter from the storm if needed."

>Afterwards she sighs, shuffling on the saddle and shuddering one more time.

"--… Brrr-r-r…"
>She replied to Raindrop with another smile when the mare turned her head to her, nodding slightly and whispering in reply to her.
"Th-that is good to know. I almost did hurl, too…"

>She then looked back up, and raises her voice again towards the Tempestus Scion to speak above the wind and rain.

"Would you like me to try to hail them on Vox, Stormtrooper? Do they have a callsign, maybe?"

d1a98 No.216022


>Spruce keeps a good pace, but is slowed slightly as he makes sure to keep his footing on the sloped ground. He's not looking to make a fool out of himself today out here.

>He also puts a hand on the Chitqu to steady the little guy as he jogs, not wanting the strange thing to fall.

>As they arrive, he slows down to a walk behind the unicorn, who takes the lead and looks around the corner.

"… Well, what is it then?"
>He asks, slowly peeking around the corner himself, and making sure it's clear before he himself follows the university pony in.

1d6[ 1d6 = 3 ] B. Perception
1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ]

d8c43 No.216154

>Zhun abashedly us a hand up to his face, embarassed
"Oh my goodness, I'm sorry. Ok, now I'm tempted."
>"The one time I assume sexual shit from ponies, it's not appropriate. Ain't that some shit."
>Zhun composes himself before looking at the change of tone from Peach
"Well, that seems easy enough. Might need a plant book but, yeah."
>Zhun then directs his eyes over to where she is wave to
"I'm fine. Thanks for everything. I'll be heading out to Zebraica. See you around."
>Zhun gives the mare a wave goodbye and heads outside
>"Maybe when all of this is done, I'll repay her that massage. Hopefully, I have lotion somewhere…"
>Zhun makes his way over to the translocation stone in the sector and punches in the code for Snootadishu

44700 No.217099

>Catching a few squiggles of Airstream movements from the Klavist stasis cells, each gave off a resounding humorous nature towards you.

>Placing your less likely to be burned hand on the pipe, it was faintly pulsing in a heartbeat like rhythm.

>Watching and feeling the pulse feeding into the blade-shaped weapon, it was definitely in some form of recharging cycle, blending electrical and biological systems in a manner that was wholly alien to you.

>Receiving a proudly sharp inhale, the collection of weapons above thrum heartily in tune with a pulse of light blue across the inner hull.

*"Thou'rt impressed grace? Grateful mineself is 'pon such praise. Should thou find theeself 'pon Darkest Moonside thou'rt welcomed tae visit graveyard of mineself's slumbering sisters. Quiet theyest be, taketh all diminutive wonders from within them thou mayest with mineself's blessing, grace. Mayhaps somest worketh in thy hands, mayhaps not. Mistress Entropy hath naught but time, unravel all she will one cycle."*
>Feeling a deep rumble throughout the vessel, the harpy goes silent as what sounded like the last Destroyers clamber into their racks below, cheerful snickering and all.
>The presumably techno-magical engine plates on the stern begin whining while Guillotine finally responds, her voice grateful, yet still holding audible cues of doubt.
*"Constructed Twos do speak, technologies and magic found so yet naught of mineself's time, kin nor kine, knew it. Mineself believeth in all sanctity still, yet sanctic mineself be no longer; mine hull be only Vessel of Destruction now. Go thee must grace."*

44700 No.217122

(Considering how many I've committed you might as well take some pride in the fact that tonight was in the top ten worst. At least, so I'm willing to say.)

>Finally coming to an agreeable arrangemarent with your new body, the barely fathomable pain and burning muscle twitches settle into simple exhaustion and soreness.

>Studying the experimaretal appendanges and their movements, it was possible to sit up due to increased musculature mass of the shoulders, hind legs, and most importantly a well built, heavily supported spine.
>Making it up to the profoundly important sitting position, Hodch responds with a half-sigh, half-chuckle.
(Firstly think about the complications and implications of that knowledge. Are you willing to place that much trust on Razorback as a whole to keep silent and not ask for bodily transfers? For two, Princess Luna knows more about necromarecy than even I'm comfortable knowing, Doctor. She would have no difficulties summoning my ka back into existence to kill me. And three, post-mortem courts do exist. The less you know about them.. the better, really.)
>Working your way through the incredibly tasty flora, it was a reminder that the mare's body you inhabit was genetically preconditioned to their consumption, even though the pastries were quite good… and then the discovery of a lifetime occurs:
>Through your front hoof, you stick the frog onto one of the half-corked bottles, pulling it to you and, rather easily, remove the cork with little more than a change of electromagnetic current.
>The, potentially, limitless uses of autonomous electromagnetic field control stunned you until the Starborn outside stopped his mildly fearful laughter.
(Make this the second topic that we will never speak of again, will you please? I've had enough shock and horror for tonight to last me a good two, maybe three weeks if I stretch these memories out.)
(That's the primary reason I used the.. let's just call them curios, instead of certain rites, rituals, or a willing sacrifice to ensure permarenency. The transferee, that is you, becomes truly integrated with the host body down to the level of appreciation she, now you, would have had for flavors, scents, and possibly certain thoughts. For example, what do you feel when I say the word 'cabbage' and 'hot bath' together?)
>At that, the image of a small, ripe small cabbage comes to mind, along with the desire to consume one while alone in a hot spring.
(No reason to tell me either one, that's a rather basic test, and.. hm, that might get a little confusing if you're around Nova Flicker. Better idea, how about Doctor Impulse Nova? You DID make a certain highly important decision with such extreme haste that I found your lack of forethought a bit appalling. Then again you're currently a blank flank, so who knows how that'll turn out..)
(And speaking of you'll be, ahem, 'recuperating' in a heated swimming pool under individual therapeutic care for a while. Until you can kneel, sit, stand, walk, and turn freely, that is, so I suggest not eating too many more pastries.)

1daa7 No.217127

>Bubba would rather not be involved in potentially lewd circumstances either.
>He was polite enough to tell her not to worry about the apologies as she worked, as it would have been an eventuality with what she was doing.
>Though he was eager to get redressed, so as soon as she gave the go ahead, he was sliding his uniform back on.
>Upon exiting, Bubba slid his coat back on while moving his way back down to the front of the shop, taking one last glance around at the items up for sale.
>He slid the ant into an inside pocket of his coat and carefully hefted the driftwood, frowning down at the odd thing.
"I'll be off now, I'll see y'all later."
>Placing the driftwood in one of his bags, Bubba departed and glanced around outside.

44700 No.217128

"Come and ask me whatever you like, but I'm only awake at night. We're all secretly batponies around here, just so you know."
>Waving at you in what appeared to be a warm 'farewell' motion, the aged mare smiles before once more enjoying the unexpected bonfire, rocking back on her hooves.
"You as well. Oh, and tell the Combat Medic she doesn't have to shout that loud next time. She could wake up the deaf, dead, cursed, maybe even half the Void if she does that again."

>Leaving while someone loudly decrees that marshmallows don't go together with chocolate, a scuffle quickly breaks out behind you.

>Returning to the Clinic, both Nova Flicker and Frost Egg had moved into the aisle's center and were either in the process of kissing, or closely examining each other at snoot-to-snoot range.
>Finding the event to be the second, the purple robed Crystal mare's head turns, her eyes mildly bloodshot while still bleeding from the nostrils.
>Giving a quick series of ear flicks that you couldn't understand the meaning of, Frost Egg leans backwards, thumping down on her rear and exhaling just as heavily.
"I assume complete destruction occurred. If not it should break down quickly after aerosolizing five to ten minutes."
>Less affected than her opposite, Nova Flicker turns about in a circle, leaping onto the bed for a cursory visual inspection of the slender pegasus.
"I would not worry, most in Razorback tend to carry a two to four flame canisters at all times."
>Sitting down next to the stallion's head, she rolls the ear back with her hoof while frowning.
"I believe he will stabilize now that the venom has been.. drained from his system. The 'snake' detached by itself. It is now in stasis, but I will send it to Krinza for a full examination."

e3ebe No.217147

>Cheto smiles warmly at the nice aged mare, nodding at her request innocently.
(Available only at night in relation to batponies. It seems that's a little cultural tidbit to know.)

>Giggling like a fool from the scuffle, it is stopped by the admittedly lewd scene in front of him.

>Covering his eyes with his left arm as he walks towards them rather slowly, gently waving his other arm in front of him so as to not accidentally stumble on anything, he steps forth to greet the two medics yet again.
"I can safely say that the ball is now ash."
>After mentally counting to ten, he removes his arm from his eyes, revealing a quite worried look.
"How's the patient doing? Nothing more has popped up while I was away, right? Are you two alright?"
(Krinza. Another name to the list.)
>He inspects both of them as he goes to the Prench Pony's bed, now that they're actually separated from their previous position, as well as the poor pony himself.
>Turning his head towards the Frost, José has a mostly relaxed look with a sprinkle of doubt and fear.
"Doctor Tipper says that you don't have to shout so loud next time."

44700 No.217182

>Offering a politely dismissive motion of her hoof, the mare's head turns left as she speaks without making a sound, obviously subvocalizing to another pony of the Collective.
>Returning to face you with a gracious smile, the Stalliongradian snorts gently.
"Thou are free to peruse at your leisure though we cannot trade sacred Ambrosia. Touch all ye like, neither lance nor plate shall strike at you for they are at rest away from battle."
>Snoot wiggling several times in thought, the mare's shoulders lift several inches uncaringly.
"They will arrive when they desire. Time matters no longer for the Collective blessed as we are with the Moon's blood in our hearts. We sleep until called to serve or perform service, traveler. Endless centuries shall pass and they will not change our duties."

>Transmitting a verbal groan and the sound of a pillow shifting, the Councilmare can likewise be heard bolting upright, hissing in a tight, furious tone.

(That would be me and where the frozen mangoes on Princess Cadence's luscious flanks did you find some of them?! Tell me your map coordinates right bloody now!)

>Noting a peculiar jet black bowl floating towards you from the right, it stops short, allowing you to see it was obsidian, filled with a swirling orange and red juice.

"An offering to you, traveler.. however-"
>Turning her snout up, the vampire earth mare poses a small, annoyed expression towards the scuffle taking place outside the door.
"I hereby demand you explain why one would willingly travel with a Pale Destroyer. All were to be hunted down and destroyed after Sun and Moon's War. What right does it have to survive?"

1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ] <Boris
1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <Mercy

>Settling down onto the closest amber pad to the door, the batcat on your saddle emits a merry feline huff.. right before rolling off and plopping next to you.
>Snuggling into your side, it begins purring in a pleasantly low vibrating tone.
>Boredom was always better with a friend, no matter the species.

>Twitching your ears up, the construction team outside had slowed down considerably, the unique noise of psionic shaping and heavy slabs being laid down out of sight.

>Overhearing the unusually serious Hunter-Killers near the front door performing a roll call, they were still relatively calm on check their numbers, muted clicks of spark lamps being refired afterwards, though providing little real illumination that you could make out.

>Dredging far back into memory, there were scattered tales of Old Everfree, New Everfree, and Moors exploration teams encountering small dug out caves in hard rock outcroppings, cliff faces, ancient mines, and quarries.

>What they at first took to be a recently dead pony would awaken when prodded or shouted at enough, though remained fairly groggy for a while until recovering their senses.
>The few marecenaries that still had their exploration logs stated that the individual ponies would proclaim themselves to be Lunarite, a term that entirely fell out of use post Lunar-Solar War, vampires before asking to be left to sleep, that is if there were no crypts nearby or a deeper cave away from the sun.
>The wilder stories sometimes ended in disaster, with entire teams brutally knocked out, only to awaken with the inexplicable sensation that they'd stepped on the wrong grave, or merely driven away if the vampire was annoyed.
>Several confirmed logs stated that the vampires themselves were not only warm-blooded, they were unnaturally hot to the touch, which was quite unsettling when one was expecting to inspect what should otherwise be a corpse.

44700 No.217206

>Glacier's crystalline lips curl back, rolling her eyes in a mareish marener that you couldn't quite place.
"Gonna have to. From what I've seen Cady put on a couple extra pounds.. thanks to you or so I hear. She really likes sweet Empire pumpkin pie and those Prench animal shaped pastries, the ones filled with chocolate especially. Too bad I can't cook, I've got no real sense of taste for anything except gems and crystalline stuff."
>Glancing from the Champion towards the pillow fort, then at you, the Shell's right eyebrow raises cryptically.
"..you meant Elezith and not her dam, right? What I meant was Matron Melodine winning her battle against the foals, but I was talking about Tacit mostly. As for Elezith she's a little less focused than her dam and a lot more.. tightly wound. El's got some nasty tactics and a brutal mindset for taking down opponents faster and larger than her. That's about all I can tell you on Elezith, other than her ice abilities are pretty weird too. Never heard of a Crystal pony like her before."
>Finding only a few of the Conclave ponies curiously watching you, they were relaxed enough that it seemed none of them would care.

>Tossing a careless grin your way, Glacier's left forehoof traces a blatantly faux-bashful circle on the stone floor.

"So long as you promise to put me back together."
>Ears flicking in the common Crystal pony 'doesn't bother me' motion, placing the odd colt down on the travel bed is further rewarded with a sleepy mumble, also earning an amused side glance from the Shell.
"Don't tempt the Nightmare. Even us Shells can dream, though we'd rather not most of the times. I'd prefer being clear-headed, y'know."

>Spinning halfway about, the Shell hums in a loud, ringing tone while the first Conclavist returns to her kin, a pair of large vacant cots and a small table floating towards it from out of your vision.

"They will. Unlike most ponies Conclavists don't hate the scent of fauna being cooked, though they won't eat any of it save an egg or a bit of seafood now and then."
>All three reach in for a select ingredient, one large reddish-blue steak of some kind going into a pan, two large crab legs into a small pot, the third retrieving a large bluish-red heart, each moving towards the stove.
>Motioning with her head, Shattered ambles towards the first cot, clambering onto it and sitting down carefully, probably due to weighing far more than a living Crystal pony, then watches the three go about their preparations with interest.
"Might as well kick back, this'll be a bit. Continuing on where I left off, Tacit's a damned weird pony. I've never seen or heard of Tacit until showing up two or three months ago. He seems to be on rather strained terms with Cady, and none of the Shells know him either. Earth stallion brutality with more finesse and a sharper mind for tactics than I've seen in about six centuries.. well, least since ten of the Tower Guard's Master-Generals helped us out with a bunch of Void creatures that wouldn't leave a mine. That's besides the point. I've no idea what he intends to do in the Empire since the last remaining Ward councilmembers are dead. I heard you execute the last one. Good job on that by the way, they're tougher than a damned Frost-Eater to kill."
>Lifting a hoof to rub her chin for several moments, the Shell's eyes rotate towards you, squinting cryptically.
"He had something to do with that bunch of pegasi and the Wards going to war with each other, that much I can state aloud. Not only that he rented and not bought a bunch of small buildings in the Industrial Sector, and even one in the Commercial District. Everything else is need-to-know, Cady's orders of course, and I didn't need to know at the time but now I'll have to do a bunch of crystalwork and make about fifty reports. Know anything about him I don't?"

44700 No.217218

>Performing a full system scan on itself, 'Spiral' offers an apologetic hoof wave.
"It'd take quite a bit to crack me open sir, and I'm sure any suspicious modifications would be easy to identify. Wireless or wired won't matter so long as I can access equipment. Interface wise.. I'd like a little better resolution recorder and a proper sensor cluster, nexus, or plexus. Alternatively you could see if crystalline technologies can be adapted to human use."
>Turning around in the chair, the A.I. focuses on your work, expressing classical doubt that it couldn't make out what you were thinking, and hadn't yet caught on.
"Makes sense in some respects. If the experimarents were dangerous enough then one would definitely require secure testing facilities.."
>Trailing off briefly, the A.I. places each marked and scouted ruin on a tiny internal display.
"Hm, illogic node suspicion confirmed sir. The overall size of the Dynasty throughout all three known eras was quite large. Given the lack of stable and constant teleportation.. magic, oh how I'm starting to hate that word, each site must have been self-sufficient. I've identified potential, and likely primitive, roads between each outpost, temple, and marked site."

>Giving a quizzical face at the question, 'Spiral' replays back the past ten seconds across several small displays.

"Nnno? No irregularities detected on video or audio fee- wait, let me analyze these sir. There's a high likelihood that you witnessed a temporal fluctuation though I've no equipment to confirm this."

>Taking hold of the Otherworldly weapon, it was emitting a rather bright pink glow, subtly pulling towards where the anomalous event occurred.

>Placing an overlay of Spiral's lab on a small screen, the north end of the room, couches, table, and bookshelves were unchanged.
>Swinging around towards the stairwell, the A.I. points a hoof towards several patches of slowly drying blood, matching it up with a compressed series of images.
"Right there sir, the pools of blood next to the electronics section have.. changed position? They've moved north half a meter."
>Blinking once, the head turns around to give you a curious expression.
"Analysis of anomalous change complete sir, it's rather beneficial. The Construct's plasma weaponry must be electromagnetically contained so the electronics on the table were likely damaged or destroyed when it attacked the Inquisitor.. which brings up a strange question: since she did survive does that mean she 'corrected' this flaw at a point in the future or a previous temporal iteration of herself?"
>'Spiral' swivels around in the chair to face you directly, pressing both forehooves together and leaning forwards in a thinking pose.
"I suggest taking a break to unwind sir, if only for a few minutes. To reiterate, the Master Radio system operates based on eight forms of compressed hexadecimal with four interconnected operating systems, one in binary, one in hexadecimal, the other two in probably native languages. Overkill, to put it bluntly. The code is highly compressed with rotating engrams for gravitic detection throughout the entirety of Razorback Fortress. That explains how it detected me and decided that I 'am' the real Marquis du Spiral. Not only does it produce and scan for gravitic, gravitonic, and actual baseline gravity waves for communication, they run through the tunnel systems. That is, the entire Fortress IS the demi-sentient, which is how it transmits information back and forth. By the way, that's roughly six terabytes of information I I went through to find out that much."

999c2 No.217235


>Part of what Hodch had been saying went completely over her head as she stares at the wine bottle in her hooves, amazed.

>So THIS was how those equines did it!
>She sits there, snorting once in amusement and returns her attention to the stallion.
(Doctor Impulse Nova? Really? No, that simply won't do. While a bit direct, I'm just going to stick with Doctor Nova at the moment being. And, for the record, it was not a impulsive decision. It was merely a calculated risk. Plus, I won't lie, I was more than a bit curious as to see what the other sex had to offer.)
>The mare chuckles.
(But, I won't lie, I hated cabbage as a man. Despised it, really. I didn't eat salads and I avoided most leafy greens in favor of tubers and beans instead but now… That sounds actually a little tasty. I am positively disgusted at myself.)
>She returned her attention momentarily to the bottle, and took a nice long drink from the bottle of wine.
>She pulls the bottle away and wipes her mouth off.
(Also, may I just say your 'sticky hooves' phenomena is absolutely fascinating to experience?)
>Experimentally, she passes the bottle back and forth between her hooves.
(Well, anyways Hodch I do look forward to this 'vacation' time up ahead of me. It will certainly be interesting to learn how to walk again and truly become comfortable but I also have a request for you. The construct threat at the moment seems to be becoming quite pressing, and, as a Foundation member, I have offered my services to help contain and destroy the threat. I need books on their combat tactics, capabilities, weaponry, general operating procedures, and any other bits of knowledge we have on them so I may begin to draft measures to counter and potentially contain the threat that they pose to Tallus. Don't tell me it now, just get me the materials in writing please so I may reference them in my report.)

5c927 No.217581

>Pareidolia draws the pinksteel blade, firmly holding it with one hand in front of his chest while listening to the A.I.

[Area is temporally unstable. Need to avoid further potential conflicts.]

"Vacating the area. Not going to risk another anomalous event."

>Glancing furtively over the spread of maps, books, and notes he quickly gathers them into a stack and leaves the Crystal tablet on the corner to keep them in place before briskly making his way up the stairwell. He makes a concerted effort to avoid wherever the potential anomalies were localized.

"The causality of the event is not something I'll be able to answer, and until I have mechanistic answers for her abilities I will not discuss them. I'm not going to be caught in another unexpected event tonight. Your explanation of the demi-sentient is duly noted."

[So only Spiral could truly handle the information flow. No one else could even begin to understand the scale.]

>Upon reaching the first floor, he heads towards the main entrance.

"Will resupply my equipment at the Armory and then debrief at the Command bunker since previous high priority task is currently delayed."

6d558 No.217652

File: 1555437775292.jpg (59.01 KB, 573x594, 1473143720679.jpg)

>Sounding out a huff of her own, Sunny laid her head down, settling for peering at the door steadily and nearly unblinking, ears held forward.
>It sounded like the team outside was making camp by the crypt, which made her vigil somewhat pointless, yet she maintained it all the same.
>She did not want to risk upsetting the cat keeping her company, Sunny had already irritated one too many cats this cycle and did not want to add to that number.

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 7 ] < B. Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 8 ]

>Pondering the now wakened sleepers below, she wondered if they'd return to their rest or if they'd be brought into the Lunar's service again. At the very least they'd have to be moved, or the foundations of the crypt itself further reinforced.

>Sunny also found herself wondering how their hibernation even worked. The vault had been unnaturally cold, presumably so the sleepers didn't overheat, but the very fact they had high body temperatures indicated an overactive metabolism and they'd been sleeping without sustenance for centuries.
>Perhaps they woke once every so often to feed. Doubtful.
>Probably just magic, as vexing as an explanation as that was for many things about how the world worked.

e0758 No.217684

File: 1555450195671.jpg (82.72 KB, 468x323, 1468190961788.jpg)

>Jeff's surprised at the freedom he's been given for looking over their stock, and gives the mare a slight head bow in gratidude.
"Well, thank you for the browsing leniency. Not sure if there's much that would fit a human profile, but I won't squander your generosity."

>Blinking idly and looking down at his TacPad to refer to his exact coordinates, he reads it off to the councilmare.

(That's where I'm located right now. Roughly fifteen miles Northeast of the Basin. It's an old crypt that was pulled out of the swamp from my project. Why, what's wrong? Would you like me to relay anything in particular to them?)

>Before he can begin rifling through their ancient stock of weapons and armor, he's offered a floating onyx black bowl of something looking like punch.

>He already turned down blood, so maybe something a little more palatable?
>The Ranger reaches out only to reel it back in at the head mare's demand.
"Pale Destroyer? You mean…"
>He looks behind him, Boris and Mercy obviously in another frivolous altercation.
>Jeff snorts audibly at the connection, looking at the vampire to answer her burning inquiry.
"Oh, hehe, well she's definitely pale. I don't know exactly what they were called during your time, but my 'Spirit Walker' friend won't… uh slay any of you if that's what you're afraid of. In fact… quite a lot has happened since the Sun and Moon were at war. They're not anymore, by the way. The Tyrant has since been reformed back into the Sun, among other things."
>He wordlessly mumbles under his breath, something about trying not to use ANYONE'S proper name, looking back through the way he entered and back at the hooded mare.
"I don't know why exactly, but it's been well over a thousand years since that war ended. Maybe it was never implemented or fell out of practice. I'm a member of what would be akin to the now-extinct Lunar Guardians, and I've never heard of that. I've never even heard of any of you, up until twenty minutes ago. Not even one of the Moon's council seats, which I'm currently talking to telepathically, knew you were all still alive."
>The Starborn rubs the back of his head awkwardly, dropping bomb shells like this.
"Sorry to say, but a lot's fallen into obscurity. The Moors was badly scarred after the Lunar/Solar war. Your dwelling was literally sinking into the swamp before I began restoration efforts. It's really the only reason I'm here, was to check on this place after it was raised up. I would be more than happy to tell you more, if it would help you understand this… era better. I believe you might just be called upon, very soon."

e0758 No.217717

>As Adon checks the tunnel, he notices quite a bit of traffic going on about it before they had gotten there.
"Golden. How many ponies might also be with Excelleon? There's a lot of hoove prints in the snow. Too many for just him to make."
>By the time he and Spruce stop to catch their breath, the unicorn's on the move again.
"What? Ah Shit. As you suspected what?"
>Adon tries catching up to Golden Horn toward the tunnel, his medallion vibrating and head pounding for a hot second causing him some concern.
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ] <B.Sprint
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ]

22601 No.217771

File: 1555473050254.png (100.79 KB, 400x533, Malyne.png)

d8c43 No.218785

>The fell of the Airstream's "response" to him sends shivers down Clemency's back, making him move a little faster
>"Didn't expect a response! Ok…"

"That's must have been meaningful you to say, that graveyard. If I can, I will."
>Hearing the snickering below, Clem casts a gaze downward from his catwalk
>Looking back to the weapon systems, he hears the whines of what sounded similar to engines?
"Speak huh? Never spoke to us then."
>Hearing her respond, he makes his way for the lift
>"Hmm, one more thing…"
>Clem speaks as he makes his way out the vessel
"If you have time, I'm seeing and fighting these Constructs more and more. Is there any insights you can give me to their design. Weaknesses or preferred weaponry."

44700 No.219419

>Finding a small, non-metallic buckle and loop around the collar, upon loosening it the world opens up, making the vertigo cease being important.
>Discovering the rest of Inquisitor Velasi's custom Flak was fashioned in the same multi-size manner, something that most designs didn't have, freeing yourself from the confines of her incredibly tight armor created many degrees of relief for your upper chest and hips.

>Picking up your wishful thoughts from the MIU, Admiral Auspex snickers.

>Loudly, too.
>Creating a series of ASCII images of the same female human from before, it was performing an amusing dance routine that was definitely pre-Age of Strife while declaring herself to have the Imperial name of Lurias Dranaki; codename: Witch-Two.
>The dour NOT-Machine Spirit of the Flak helmet simply states his local name is Andronal Pacose; codename: Tox 11.
>In comparison to the two, both of the Flak Armor 'spirits' spoke up in concise, clear Binary:
'We are twins, Enginseer. We originate from the world named Jego in the outer reaches of Segmentum Pacificus at roughly the same time Inquisitor Velasi Aguinas was forcefully inducted into the Ordo Chronos. In fact, we met her precisely nine Terran years before she became known as Inquisitor Flash. The male of us is known as Phenon; the female of us is know as Pheral. We are one and two at the same time. Likewise, we are pleased that you care enough to ask for our names. Our shared codename is Tracker.'

>The Knight slows, turning her head back to offer a resounding huff, eyes gleaming rather merrily behind blue diamond lenses.

"Leave all the lewd to me and you'll be fine Miss Castella. Don't cause too much though, I'd rather not have to explain more than I already do to Razorback's secretary."
>Twitching the probably warm wingblade back in acknowledgement and hefting it higher for some additional weather relief, she continues down into the abandoned city, the Stormtrooper's tone marginally questioning as he likewise slows, his shoddy carapace boots less able to deal with the morass covering stonework.
"Acknowledged Enginseer, Knight, slow course. Low terrace location covered in clay and mud washout, may have hindered the team's extrication. They were not accompanied by an equine mercenary, assume possible rescue or traveler. ..Enginseer this entire town is a much higher value site than expected, construction materials are not easily acquired or transported due to Fortress location, limit use of explosives only to confirmed targets."

"Glad you didn't, gets five times worse if you do."
>Tossing her head back quickly, the Knight swivels forwards once more to glance down at the muck, carefully high stepping with an annoyed air.
"If I start slipping then jump off, you really wouldn't want me landing on you from how heavy this armor is-"
>Noting the local buildings on either side tapering down into a narrower pathway, Chisan now forced to step sideways to keep his footing with the lasrifle slung on his back, it was clear that returning upwards was not going to be simple or easy, though there were imprints of stone stairways leading up now and then through the pouring rain.
"No known callsigns or names attributed. No contact necessary, lack of open transmissions possibly due to protective wargear modes. There is a plaza below us Enginseer, perform city mapping protocols when able, the Comm Lieutenant and Secretary will require hardcopies upon return. ..I would much prefer my own carapace, Slate Monitron, and Omnishield to these inferior patterns right no-"

>Raindrop jerks backwards as Chisan slips in the stream of muck below, the Scion twisting to land face down in a slide while the Knight drops to her knees.

>Pitching forwards unexpectedly, the new-to-you boots strike the mud and clay mixture below hard, Raspberry's wingblades slapping down to slow her unwanted and high speed descent.
"Bucking weather! Mallia grab hold of me!"
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <E.Reaction Speed
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 10 ] <M.Assault
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 11 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 9 ]
1d6+5[ 1d6+5 = 8 ]

dc2c3 No.219591

>It might've been 'weird' for Raindrop Raspberry to turn to her and see her already giggling to herself for seemingly no reason; the enginseer too busy communing with her machine spirits and giving the dancing ASCII images a sidelong glance. Sparing a hand to cover her re-breather, as if to conceal her mirth.

(Whaaaat? What's so funnyyy!)
>She thought; her lip wrying up as she tried to not smile or laugh herself, before her glance and attention simultaneously go to the Knight, as they turn to her, and Velasi's machine spirits as they introduce themselves.

"W-well, I don't plan on starting any in the first place -- so there's that."

>Her voice, having just come down from giggling, was still a bit elated; struggling to return to it's previous seriousness.

>Though she quickly manages to succeed in returning to a more appropriately serious glance; as her smile begins to fall, in particular, as she processed the names of all the Machine Spirits…

>She somewhat covertly wondered if these machine spirits had simply been named by Velasi individually. Or if all the spirits had names and she just forgot to check 90% of the time…

>… She slowly drifted her attention towards Tox-11 instead, just to consider them in silence. Then to Phenon and Pheron. Though she 'says nothing', there is a vague feeling of concern and discomfort, as if she just had more questions to ask. But wasn't quite sure how to ask them yet.

(… Those are some very nice names. I always wanted to have a brother. Did Velasi name you? I was never really taught to ask for names, you all just sound so… Well, human. It's uncanny to me.)
>She confesses her worries while she still could; while they still weren't busy or in danger.The more she thought about it, the more curious she gets.

>But before she gets too absorbed in that train of thought, she does send a reply back to the Stormtrooper to, at least, acknowledge that she had heard him; even as her face seemed to twist into a deeply pensive frown.

>Nodding her head a few times as her eyes finally snapped forward, blinking back from the communion.

"Acknowledged. No explosives until strictly necessary."
>She straightened up all of a sudden, mostly due to the shivering as she starts to acknowledge the cold weather again; glancing up to the skies for a brief second, before looking back down to Raindrop to acknowledge her advice.

"I'll try to. Thank you."
>She replied, smiling earnestly to the mare for her thoughtfulness. Before her eyes dart back to the Stormtrooper.

>She cooly said.
>Mallia didn't hesitate to turn her attention to Witch-Two afterwards, and politely ask Admiral Auspex to execute path-finding and mapping programs; prioritizing the direction they needed to go to reach their objective first and foremost.

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 8 ] <BQ. Auspex Scan

>She manages to send the command a split-second before Chisan slips. Her eyes widen as she reflexively calls out in worry and mild panic.


>But before she even THINKS of reaching out to try and use her mechadendrite to help him, the mare also slips; and she winces slightly as she feels her boots striking the ground and wetly sliding along the mud, and her chest bumping against the back of the pegasus' armor roughly! Luckily her armor cushions the 'impact' to not make her skip any beats.

>She didn't need to be told twice to hold onto the pony!

(Hohhh this is at least one degree of not good! Let's see if I can compensate!)

>The new belly-sliding position urged Mallia to hurriedly re-adjust her stance quickly to try to adapt!

>Leaning her chest against the back of the mare as horizontally as she could! Lifting her legs to have her boots against the mare's sides and flanks -- hopefully keeping her legs above the mud so as to not mess with Raindrop's maneuvering, while keeping the hand with the auspex close to her chest -- holding onto the little hook on the back of the equine's armor with both hands to keep herself balanced and her center of mass as close to the pony's as possible to not unbalance her.

>Her utility mechadendrite clicking further into her back and just locking it in place as it is for now.

>Or try, at least!

1d6[ 1d6 = 6 ] <B. Reaction Speed
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

1d6[ 1d6 = 2 ] <B. Assault
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

>At the same time, she also keeps her eyes up to keep track of the Stormtrooper; not wanting to loose sight of her leader (again), in case he might need her help! Toggling on her IMPROVED Preysense goggles to help keep track of where they are all going!

>Her eyes darting frantically between keeping track of Chisan, and where they were all sliding towards. Praying to the Omnissiah there wouldn't be any obstacles to bump into, and trying to pay attention to Admiral Auspex's report after their scan, if any.
>Making sure the Inquisitor's priceless device is protected against her chest; not wanting them to bump into anything even slightly. She can't allow Admiral Auspex to get hurt.

(We're going to be fine, we're going to be fine! I know it!)
>She thought, with full confidence in herself and her allies; more to herself than to the machine spirits.

1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 9 ] <B. Perception + BQ. Preysense goggles
1d6[ 1d6 = 1 ]

6cfea No.219657

>As the filly thunder goes off, Jamal mumbles to himself about his people leaving Africa to get away from this voodoo shit.

>Jamal enters the likely shaman's hut and takes a deep whiff of that probably cherry ganja getting lit up.

"Shiiet, I already heard something like that from down over there-"
>He vaguely gestures towards the east.
"-But it aint sound close to us. I'm here because there's a new goddess and I offered her my mix tape, the hottest shit I had, but when I threw it into our bonfire she I dunno, rejected it? A different tape popped back out with the weirdest shit I'd ever listened to."
>The nigger then sets down his backpack and digs through the freshly harvested buds, sodas, and snacks until he produces a copy of his old mixtape, and the one he got back from Aegis Ignotus Fain.
"I don't know what "Remixed Old School Hardbass Hip-Hop Classics!" is, and I really don't know if this means she didn't like what I gave her. What do you make of this?"

d2375 No.219975

File: 1556680709885.png (439.76 KB, 1000x1000, tumblr_messaging_pqnkuaYrZ….png)

44700 No.221183

>Making the same face back at you, Three-Point stares left, poking her forehooves together awkwardly.
"If I said something I shouldn't have or lead you on, um, it's not that I don't wanna do adult stuff, I'm not old enough to do any of that and spring isn't that bad for me but if it does get bad and I send a letter then.. you understand, right?"
>Making a sorrowful expression, the young mare lifts her shoulders pensively.
"Ash Kicker doesn't seem bad, just a bit more secretive than most. You could ask your alchemists to help out, probably the easiest thing to do. You're welcome and come back next year, we'll definitely have everything by then!"
>Perking up immediately and offering a happy smile accompanied by a vigorous hoof wave, the young mare's eyes begin to glaze over in dawning horror as you leave.
>Paperwork, or crystalwork in her case, was serious business no matter where one went.

>Finding your way back to the Industrial District's main translocation matrice without encountering a single pony, the Vortex Remnant merely opens an orange non-Euclidean eye to stare at you for ten-sixths of a second.

>Correctly deciding that you were on business errands, you're treated to a rather pleasant shift through realities halfway across Tallus.
>Arriving smoothly into an indescribably hot locale, both surrounded by uncountable Zebras and warm yet eye searing desert tones, the tone of what you took to be Snootadishu was one of pleasant laxity:
>Unlike the Moors, the giant market of large tent-stalls surrounding you was filled with all manners of Zebras, ranging from bronze, silver, gold, and even a few platinum bedecked mares and stallions conducting brisk, merry exchanges of food, carpets, tents, water, trinkets, even a few weapons or armor that you could see.
>Overwhelmed by the casual normalicy of this giant market compared to the few locations in Equestria you'd visited, it takes a while to remember that you were, in fact, both alive and on a mission, though not before finding a helpful Zebra had placed a canopy over the translocation matrice to keep you in the highly welcome shade.
>Finally orienting yourself to the strange yet welcome plaza, it was quite apparent that the northwest section was dedicated to food and various drinks, the northeast weapons and armor, the southeast hoofling items for living quarters, and the southwest rather vague.

44700 No.221184

1d20[ 1d20 = 11 ] <Where Does Bubba Go Now?

44700 No.221228

>Catching sight of the older Ferron mare lifting a wing in farewell, the filly was nowhere to be seen in the Sea Shack now.
"Take care! You'll get a delivery later this morning, she's going to take a while to make sure everything's perfect."
>Briskly packing the items away, upon stepping out you're greeted with a much calmer wharf, the flow of Moorites and the short Ferron replaced by much calmer Lunar faction adherents.
>Mostly composed of darker colored pegasi, minotaurs, unicorns, even a scattering of Saddle Arabians, Gryphons, and the rare few earth ponies with blue or purple coats, the Cairn's pleasant atmosphere takes an interesting twist as you watch a rainbow of energies take shape south above the water.
>Watching the vaguely quarter-moon shaped structure finish forming, this was either going to turn into a dance and song routine, or there was a ship about to dock given the large amount of minotaurs and Gryphons patiently lining up.
>All were not only heavily armored, each carried multiple spears, tridents, and what were definitely the cruelest looking harpoons you'd ever seen.

651bb No.221273

Ambush: +1 Token to Spruce

>Fully beyond the corner Adon and Spruce could hear Golden Horn cooing and being in awe at what laid beyond.

"I did not suspect this however!"
>The underlying fear both humans had heard before in the Unicorns voice had been replaced by a more academic accent.

>Loose rock chips and snow clumps dislodged from Spruces jogging, so quiet was the surrounding high altitude their echoes reverberated loud and clear.

>Under the firm security of the Operators' hand the small furball let out a muffled noise of approval and vibrated happily. Spruce felt the metal suit on the Chitqu was cold to the touch, unsurprising when considering the environment.

>Looking directly into the tunnel Spruce did not see anything hostile.

>Honestly he did not see anything at all apart from Golden standing before a heavy set of blast doors, ones he recognized as oddly modern. They had a pristine yellow coat of resilient paint with hazard black and white chevrons surrounding it; bordering it from the solid concrete square tunnel.

>Stroking his Moustache Golden looked back at Spruce, whom saw the Unicorn was absolutely ecstatic.

"A highly enchanted door of course, one with such a combination of magic's and Construct technology it floors me!"
>Despite saying such not-so-welcoming news Golden Horn was smiling.
>Spruce on his part observed their was an unnatural sheen to the blast doors, like there was a polished pane of glass in front of it.

>From under his palm the Chitqu chirped and jittered for freedom.

>In his hurry to catch up to the Unicorn and not get caught out in the open for an avalanche to sweep him away, if one was to occur, the Witcher almost ate shit when his boot kicked into a rock that did not dislodge from its place. Thankfully he caught himself, only suffering sore hands and a mild sense of embarrassment.
No one was looking, so there was that.

>Ear rotating at hearing Adons concern Golden turned around from the doors to face outside where the trail winded down.

>Trotting out of the tunnels cover to analyse the trail properly, Golden lowered his head to study the disturbed and scuffed path for a moment.
"…Hmm…You are right to be concerned Adon, one pony could do this even with years of isolation to help. No. Excelleon is too deranged to want anypony to lend a hoof in his endeavours, but not enough to see he needs assistance to gather resources."
>Lifting his head he looked to Adon, whom stood next to Spruce as the other human gazed into the tunnel.
>His excited smile had turned into concerned pursed lips as the reality of the situation came back to him, moustache was still being stroked however.
"If I had to make an educated guess Adon, this path was made from Slavers and their captives. That is the only explanation I can think of as to why those Slavers were so far out in the wilds."

>Done outside with his geology surveying the old Unicorn went back inside the tunnel to study the doors again. The ones Adon heard explained to Spruce.

>The doors themselves looked like they belonged to a Noble or rich Merchants' house from Tretogor with how finely carved and lacquered their wood was done. Steel studs lined the edges where the tunnel met oak wood, polished brass door knockers in the forms of Stag heads marked the centre of both doors.
>starring at them made Adons' Medallion increase in vibrations.
>Apart from this and the out of place opulence the Witcher saw nothing that looked hostile.

>Once more in front of the doors Golden's horn lit up.

"Now, can I even open it…?"
>He muttered openly.
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 3 ] >B.Arcane Awareness
1d6+2[ 1d6+2 = 4 ]

651bb No.221279

File: 1557549081775.gif (2.24 MB, 480x270, extra THICC.gif)


>Lonts hummed at hearing Cadence packing some pounds. He did not notice last time he was with her. Not that he had a problem with her gaining bigger flanks.

"I see…I personally do not mind. She is quite stressed so I can't really not stop her from stress eating."
>He shrugged, it was true.

'Ah looks like I did a bit of a faux pas there.'
"Yes I meant Elezith, my mistake."
>The corner of his mouth twitched at getting Elezith name wrong, and being given more information of ponies he doesn't even know. And he was starting to get to his limit on information on ponies he hasn't met personally, he is a busy man dammit.

"Of course, and gently too."
>He Retorted with his own bashful hand twirl.

>Looking down at the sleeping colt, Lont nodded to himself with a job well done before turning towards the Shell.

"A literal clear head I assume."
>Most likely, she seemed like a mare that enjoyed playing with words, something he appreciated.

"Eggs and Seafood? How very Pegasi of them."
>He said as he watched the cots and table float on by, an odd thing for Unicorns to be doing for sure. Maybe they discovered that eating fish made them smarter.
>Lont joined the Shell at the table, sitting on his own cot opposite hers. Crossing his legs he got comfortable, watching the ponies cook with a critical eye. He was no master chef but he hasn't caused a culinary disaster in years.

"Yeah, I've known Tacit for a while now on a business level. Since he always comes with Lucky to the base to deliver us items."
>'Speaking of which, it has been a while Lucky.'
>Believing he didn't need to judge the ponies anymore he turned his full attention to Shattered.
"Thanks, I am just glad I got there in time to save Tacits life."
>He rested his cheek on a fist as he looked back at the Shell, eyebrow raised.
"As I said I know him as much as I do about Lucky, nothing much other than they deliver us some great artefacts."
>His brow furrowed slightly at Glaciers words.
"What do you mean go to war? I mean yes, the Inner Circle were full of bastards but how did he get involved?"
>A sigh was released as he racked his brain for information, how the hell was he going to be good at politics at all if he cannot remember details.
"When you Pegasi you mean the Rogues, right? Don't know how he'd go to war leading a group of Rogues without Lucky's consent, seeing how he was her subordinate."
>'Guess I need to have a talk with Tacit sooner rather than later.'
>Lont glanced back at the cooking food than Glacier, a small sly smile tugging the corner of his lips.
"Do I need-to-know? Can I know?"

651bb No.221280

1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 12 ] >E.Negotiation +Faction Bonus +Superior Voice +Max Rep
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 10 ]
1d6+7[ 1d6+7 = 11 ]

44700 No.221285

>Realizing the pair were inspecting each other for harm, the situation was definitely not lewd given the amount of blood on the Clinic's floor.
>Left forehoof lifting and smothering her nose with it, Frost Egg grunts encouragingly.
"Best news I could've heard tonight.. I think. This only leaves the probably fifty page report for the fools that'll want to know why I'm not back on the Citadel."
>Inhaling deeply through her nostrils, probably so as not to bleed on the Prench pegasus, Nova Flicker shakes her head side to side in a deeply negative motion.
"Given the unanticipated aid from the non-Construct designed mechanical snake he is recovering at what I suppose to be a normal rate. His wounds are closing properly, I was able to confirm that the spearhead's puncture in his lung was… fresh I suppose, and should not cause difficulties if properly treated in the future. Besides more blood loss than I expected we are neither experiencing hallucinations nor have we collapsed due to neurotoxicity. I estimate our exposure level to be minimal. We shall both recover with little difficulty."

>Giving the two a brief inspection, neither were bleeding from the eyes that you could tell.

>According to human facial expressions, both seemed to be more annoyed at the imposition than afraid or concerned.

>Eyes rotating in your direction, the Combat Medic's lips flatten into a humorless line, waving her bloodied forehoof towards Nova with an aggravated snort.

"Tipper's daughter agreed with my estimation of exposure ratio. If that woke the old nag then I'll sit through a lecture on the finer points of being LESS careful than I should when dealing with an aerosol with the potential to incapacitate and cause long term neurological damage to the various sapients in her own Clinic."
>Visibly trying to make herself much smaller than she was by crouching down next to the stallion, the carnelian hybrid whimpers in a drawn out apologetic tone.
"I am sorry mom is like this, she has changed a great deal since I came here."
>Standing up and glaring down at the red droplets quickly drying on the floor, Frost sighs half-disparagingly.
"Please don't do that again or I'm going to do things that will make you afraid of me for the rest of your life. I'm not admonishing you or your dam Flicker. I've studied several of Tipper's texts rather thoroughly, she used to advise urgency over caution when it comes to dangerous situations where the patient is more important than the caregiver. In any matter, since he'll recover fine I'm going to head to the Moon, need a few stiff drinks and some sleep."

44700 No.221287

>Head turning around to raise an eyebrow at you, Hodch makes a rather silly face, the meaning of which wasn't readily available to your memory.
(Riddle me this: when Doctor Novus disappears and "Doctor Nova" shows up unannounced without a logical explanation as to why I'm bringing in additional and probably unpaid pony support staff as a replacement, whom is going to ask which difficult to explain questions? I can mostly guarantee that Roust and Denra will pick you out within the first minute, might take Mercy a couple nights, and eventually Tipper is going to bring you in for a full physical, psychological, marental, and magical examination. ..you horrify me, Doctor. I will acknowledge that your impulsively calculated risk of a decision may have benefits. That is, if you don't fall prey to them too quickly.)
>Turning to talk with the, probably, mare in charge of recovery processes, the Starborn pauses to half-snort, half-cough amusedly.
(Equines tend to browse so if you see grass or flowers in need of some 'trimming', just don't let anypony else see it or they may laugh at you.)
>Leaning forwards to do something you couldn't see, the unicorn mutters a sharp word under his breath, the reins dissipating off while the storage cloud sinks down onto what felt like a solid floor.
(Indeed, that will be your replacemarent for hands so I suggest taking the best possible care of your hooves. Earth ponies discovered it first: they learned something the electromagnetic strata that all psions, earth sorcerers, Druids, and auric fluctuations that unicorns are able to tap into could be ingrained and taught to a genetic level. History is always fascinating when one understands the context of 'why'.)
>Turning about and poking his hoof into the cloud, Hodch gives a slow, tired nod.
(I have severe doubts that you'd be able to report back anything learned on Tallus, but I will get at least two copies of the 29,990 Lunar Military Findings and all volumes related to Constructs from the Citadel Library. I'll have them sent directly to Razorback, right now I'm due for a worthless medical exam.)

>Freed from the cloud down onto a rather cold, welcome stone surface, the building's interior comes into view:

>Little more than one giant indoor swimming pool with a short exercise end and a deep location towards the rear, the pleasing warm tones of heatstones lit the building almost uncomfortably to your new eyes.
>As Hodch speaks, a morbidly large number of visibly injured or crippled ponies, mostly pegasi mares, were suffering through one-on-one rehabilitation efforts via darkly colored unicorns.
"Welcome to Flat Springs. This is one of many Starborn Villages on the southern New Everfree border though maybe a quarter of the ponies here are Lunars, the rest are Ferron. Your caretaker's name is Bloodscorch Frenzy-"
>Motioning towards a neon red batpony mare standing chest-deep in the water facing towards Hodch, and pointedly gazing at you with raised, bushy eyebrows.
"Don't ask about her name. Other than that she's one of the three batponies that I can safely state aloud that I fully trust and is one of the best surgeons around."
>Sniffing politely, Hodch turns his head several degrees to eye the mare, then leans down to mutter shallowly.
"A few words of advice: never jokingly say 'bite me' or she will make your life immeasurably lewd for a few minutes, the moment you experience any pain that you cannot deal with you must tell her immediately, and try not to eat too much."

ecd4a No.221292

>Cheto nods, seeing how non-chalant they are over the whole issue.
>A wave of relief washes over the average human after ensuring that everything's okay for the time being and his mission is on hold currently.
>Carefully sitting at the edge of the Prench Pony's bed, a sharp inhale is taken followed by a slow, relaxed exhale.
(Finally, un tiempito para respirar.)
>His arms stretches upwards, popping softly his bones in his back and arms.
>They swiftly returns to their original position with the added action of half-lidding his eyes in what one could call either sleepiness or calm.

>Mind processing the current situation, a few questions started popping up, turning to the first few about Frost Egg.

"The Citadel? Why would you need to write about you being absent there?"
>After this, he feels like the pure tricolor crystal pony needs some needed relaxation and he may know how he can give at least a litte to her.
>Standing up, he walks over to Frost's location with gentle steps.
(I hope this will alleviate a little bit of stress.)
>With an open palm, he gently caresses Frost's mane.
>Some of his fingers lightly brush her ears as he goes along her manestyle.
>A content smile is the only thing expressed as the human pets Frost.
"You did your job, and you did it excellently."
(The Moon? Is it livable there now? Have to ask later. Have to make sure Frost is feeling well with the petting so no distractions.)

bee7f No.221343


>Doctor Nova simply smiles right back at Hodch with a grin at his suggestion that the name is too obvious.

>It was. She knew it.
>But she didn't care too much!
(Oh I know Hodch. It's a really dumb idea but Impulse Nova to me just sounds stupid, I'd rather take Doctor Nova than that because at least then it doesn't sound as dumb. Supernova though… Hmm.That might fit more given my background.)
>She rubs a hoof under her chin in thought with a small smile.
>Supernova did sound good as a name on paper, and it fit Nova's background quite well, and personality…
>So… Was it decided.
(Yes… I think I'll stick with Supernova. Doctor Supernova or just Nova.)
>At Hodch's mistaken suggestion that she won't be reporting back to Earth, Nova laughs.
(Oh please Hodch, that isn't what I need the reports for. I'm trying to draft protocols for *you* and your ponies to help fight the construct threat. Using my experience and analysis as an agent and researcher, I am well versed in drafting protocols on how to combat, contain, and potentially destroyed threats and I have done so in the past before for… Numerous entities. I never expect to see the Foundation ever again in my lifetime, but probability says there is a likelihood that someday, another agent may appear.)
>Then, in a moment, she is freed from her zero gravity environment that she had been enjoying.
>Now with a bit of a pout she sat on the cold stone ground in front of this large rehabilitation clinic.
>The facilities in view were nothing really out of the ordinary for a rehab clinic (and neither were the patients in view), but at least it looked professional enough to be somewhat comfortable and maybe even productive for the duration of her recovery.
>The name of her caretaker though made her raise her eyebrows, but she decided it was best to follow Hodch's advice.
>Then, Nova get's a very sly grin for a moment as Hodch explains what she should not do.
>Naturally, she ignores this and immediately does it.
"… I'm sorry what was that Hodch, did you just say 'Bite me'?"
>She asks, somewhat loudly, posing the question as if Hodch had just said it, and putting on an innocent face.

44700 No.221729

>Turning around in the digital chair and beginning to state something, the A.I. blips off the screen while leaving a heavily static laden voice behind.
"Contamination detected. Experiencing severe electromagnetic turbulence, shutting down all secondary, tertiary and non-essential systems."
>Sensing the blade's guidance upwards through heavily tinged outlines of Otherworldly, bright gold fields cascading across realities, 'Spiral' crackles in a perversely distorted tone.
"No disagreements there sir, but this demi-sentient is little more than dead weight at the moment.. while I'm not. If only I had the capacities and systems it does-"
>Exiting the temporal anomaly field into the Library's lower level, the A.I. displays a list of expended provisions in need of restocking.
"Optimal loadout recommarendations given your current weaponry configuration. Hrm… sir, I'm adding a tertiary request: I would like to see this 'Armory's' current weaponry to perform a tactical matrix analysis given your known threat vector records."
>Unusually, the list included a demand for the use of an armor-penetrating, micro-C4 fragmenting diamond-nanoweave submunition in a 13.2x58MM cartridge.
>Performing a double take upon exiting the front doors, the left side screen displayed the schematics for a recoiless automatic Gauss carbine, one that you were fairly sure wasn't from your world.

>Beginning to trek north towards the Armory, a fairly large contingent of Razorback's human staff were dispersed across the courtyard in search of something while the A.I. makes a short, angry beep.

"..then again, I'm close enough to BE the original? I'm more than competent enough, honestly. I'm here, I'm AWARE of what I need, and those giant sexy sensor clusters embedded in the walls of this place are simply BEGGING me to their her flanks and whip them into shape!"
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 7 ] <B.Electronic Warfare: Subversive Hacking Protocols
1d6+1[ 1d6+1 = 2 ]

44700 No.221912

>Snickering in a perfectly devious tone, which was too devious and directly resembled batpony snickers when they were about to commit an act of either profound pranking or was too lazy to move, the Moor cat not-so-subtly paws at your armored barrel.
>It either knew what you were thinking, which was impossible given that you knew only a few Moor cats were truly sapient, or was trying to soften your guard for some previously unforeseen and doomed to fail prank.

>Failing to identify the male feline's vocal cues, the increasingly hurried noises outside the crypt were not indicative of a camp being set up:

>Overhearing the brusquely loud Tartarus Isle builders it was directly clear they were hurrying their final work in preparation for a gigantic ceremonial party in recognition of reconstructing the Basin Village's old walkways.
>At least that was so far as you could tell from the Arcane Blades whom were audibly planning on assaulting a nearby unclaimed bog in search of treasures and fish.
>The first was, of course, not marendatory.

>Giving some thought to the consequences of magical substantiation in regards to the unusually varied reports of Lunarite claimed vampires, you could at least recall there being no singular goal between any potential covens.

>Which were probably the opposite of batpony covens given their complete lack of fruit, blood, and insect sacrifices.

>Interrupted by the Moor cat pawing at your side, without claws at least, he gives a plaintive, attention seeking meow of boredom.

>Shoulders lifting, the Lunarite earth mare silently makes a series of relaxed hoof pointing motions towards each of the weapon and armor racks throughout the crypt.

>Hissing in response after the coordinates are delivered, the odd uni-bat Councilmare returns a morbidly curious rebuke:

(Each of the surviving Lunarite vampire covens vanished around six-hundred and eighty years ago without so much as a single warning or requests for their sacred Ambrosia, then right after midnight I get this batshit crazy report from, of all ponies, one of THE Councilierge detailing somewhere around four thousand Lunarite vampires showing up in Stalliongrad to keep one of your marecenary company's stallions safe from a flankload of Undead, so excuse me for being long winded, but to answer your question: half the insanities that your logical mind wouldn't even start to consider, human! I'll be there once my crippled ass manages to wake up and I stop dreaming of better dusknings when all I had to do was raise my tail and wiggle my ass at the first strong batpony stallion in sight-)
>The Moon Orb link transmits the sound of a hoof clicking on stone, the proper notice for communications being severed.

>Expression flattening into a mostly puzzled state, the presumably blind earth mare's head tilts towards the sound of a small golem being smashed against flooring.

"You call that wretch a Spirit Walker? Lunarites named them Pale Destroyers in that they were pathetic copies of the true Destroyers, those batponies afflicted by disease and parasites whom would not recover, thus self-sentenced to destructive rituals of blood magics."
>Unable to read the Stalliongradian's facial expression, her only motion is to press the right forehoof onto her snout.
"Traveler.. as I hath stated shortly ago: temporal lineage matters nothing unto we of the Collective. I carest not that Moon and Sun have reconciled, our oathsworn duties be eternal. Beyond the Nightmare's blood within our hearts or her laws, we abide by nopony's whims or wills. As I have heard nothing of this 'Moon Council' before the hour of my rebirth it serves no will over our existences, nor shall I allow them our service nor services."
>Hanging her head for a bit, the mare flops sideways onto the amber futon, entirely concealing her head now.
>Raising a hoof to draw the hood down over her face, the Stalliongrad mare lets out a relieved half-chortle.
"For the best your lack of knowledge is, traveler. That we be forgotten, lost, unburied? Such kindness we may only hope to acquire for neither dreams nor rest shall restore us, nor under the spell of Ambrosia have we recovered. Hath the Collectives been summoned upon by the Nightmare we would be awoken, thus in silence we have desperately slept to rid ourselves of the eternal fatigue and fatigue. Should thou wish to understand us, my last and second demand be this: forget all to deny the Collective's tormarented existence. Ungrateful to life we are for no battlefield's weight in blood grants us peace. Neither blessing nor curse sways we Lunarites, only vague promises of truest oblivion encourages hope."

6d558 No.221916

File: 1557919747712.jpg (124.95 KB, 702x396, 1462417714281.jpg)

>More or less satisfied that there was no immediate threat outside the crypt, Sunny brought her right wing up to her mouth and pulled the blades off one by one, setting them down before working on the other wing.
>A practiced shift of the body and the mare cat dislodged her saddlebags, setting them aside as well before flopping on her side, shoulder twinging from the not quite healed injury.

>Examining the moor cat, Sunny used a free wing to brush along its back affectionately.

"If you're bored, why aren't you down exploring with the others, huh? There's not much down there but a few beds and even less ponies to fill them, but definitely more exciting than up here."
>Quirking her gaze back towards the door for a moment, she amended.
"Outside not included, but you've probably had your fun out there, hm?"
>Sunny continued stroking that cat with her pinions as it allowed, one ear turned towards the door, the other towards the bowels of the crypt, actively filtering sounds from both sources for irregularities in her mind.
>She only half watched the moor cat keeping her company in more ways than one, examining it more closely as her focus allowed.
"I hope you're not planning to ambush me, because I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage right now."

1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 4 ] < B. Perception
1d6+3[ 1d6+3 = 6 ]

5c927 No.222023

>Pareidolia's brow furrows slightly as Spiral rambles, but raises in shock as he steps out the doors of the Library.

"Where did you acquire this schematic? How?"

>As the Spiral A.I. begins to speak in a clearly unhinged manner, Pareidolia deftly reaches behind his head to press and hold the power switch.

[Compromised. Goddamn it. Now of all times? Now?!]

>He stops along the pathway and places a gloved hand on his helmet, squeezing the side briefly.

"Too damn quick and not enough fucking time… "

>As his screen overlay flickers with a rebooting process menu, he speaks.

"Safe mode."

[Will need to keep all external connection functions disabled until cooperation can be assured. Didn't want to have to reformat so soon…]

>He waits briefly for the bootup process to continue, while ensuring that the A.I. would not be able to interface with anything other than visually and verbally.

>Upon reactivation, he asks:

"Do you know why I've rebooted you in safe mode?"

e0758 No.222216

>Picking himself up, luckily no one saw, and paced the others from the back but close enough to keep up with conversing with Golden Horn.
>The unicorn picks up on his theory as they all gaze into the tunnel, blocked by a set of doors.
"So he probably had the slavers haul equipment up here with their captives, but kept them out of the way. Heh, guess you would have gotten here with or without my intervention. And if those were the only ones he was employing, we shouldn't have to worry about them."
>Leaving the thought of any other living obstacles tot he side for now, the Witcher gave the doors a good once over. Twice over, even.
>Solid build, ornate decorating, a lot of enchantments. A lot.
"He surely didn't spare any expense on the entrance. I don't even need my medallion to know this door's soaked in magic. I'd be careful, old man. Excelleon seems like he'll do whatever's necessary to keep visitors out."
>If there were any booby traps on the door, they might be stuck here for a while.
"I have a spell that drastically reduces magic about ten feet around me. Might be able to dispell these enchantment long enough to slip through."

e0758 No.222230

1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 9 ]1d6+6[ 1d6+6 = 10 ]

44700 No.222293

>The catwalk underneath vibrates once as the conduits spread throughout the hull brighten into a variety of colors, the Harpy's electronic voice releasing a slow, thoughtful hiss.
*"Be not mine tae take what mineself cannot use. Mine lost kin's tactics carried by thy Rites be honored in thee service. Mineself hath no answer, but betray their lineage not: deliver their furies 'gainst only thee Constructed Twos. Shouldest Twos cease their assaults thou must bid mine kin's weapons rest where thou claimed from."
>Watching the blade turn a silvery blue and the presumed cannons above slowly warming, the micro-vibrations throughout the vessel were consistent with the strange propulsion slabs you noted on the lower stern.
*"Aye grace, searched far an' wide did mineself tae recognize thy wavelengths. Mine kin hath not used them since… long before mineself born. Speak an' transmit Constructed Twos do; understood them? We did not."*
>Lowered through the shaft of light down to the entrance level, hundreds of Destroyers watching you while, of course, snickering, the Harpy makes a sound between a grunt and a sigh.
*"Ever-shifting be they grace, uncounted variances, configurations, ranges.. provide you mineself shall with kin's knowings. Speaketh with chiropteran equines by thee Bloodied Cult of Order, bid them summon thee by two 'pon five thee Silver Monolith."*
>Exiting the ramp on a controlled sliding descent, it snaps shut behind you.
>Immediately forced to vacate the rebuilt landing zone due to pressure emanating off the hull, a vague, hardcase shaped object is ejected outwards to land some distance away, the Harpy's voice transmitting in a wistful tone.
*"Shouldest thou find peaceful Rites known to thee Constructed Twos, grace, giveth them Guillotine's blessing: battle they do in splendor."*

>Rising steadily upwards from the cradle, the metallic silver-white sheets affixed to Guillotine's lower stern were similar to something that you overheard Shanis speak about some months ago.

>Momentarily contorting in realspace, the vessel streams upwards, leaving a trail of silver afterimages behind it.

f5a54 No.222312


>Feeling a bit out of place as the two magically inclined members of their trio debated how to open the door, Spruce sat back and scratched his chin with his free hand.

>He had no idea what sort of enchantment was on this door, but he was pretty sure that no matter what he'd be able to at the very least blast it open at the expense of their hearing.
>And exposing their position to anyone with a pair of ears.
>So he sat back and waited this one out as they looked at it, instead taking his time to cover their rears and keep a lookout outside the cave and down the mountain, keeping an eye out for any movement.
>And of course, he set the little fluffy guy down on the ground so he could be free.

B. Perception 1d6[ 1d6 = 5 ]
1d6[ 1d6 = 4 ]

d8c43 No.222398

>Just as he went through the portal, he's out already
>Zhun now feels like he's in an oven now with his gear, going from cold to hot
>The feeling gets lost in the crowd of Zebras though
>Feels…at least more calm even though it is a living, bustling market
>Moving over to the side of the matrice, Zhun drops to one knee and undo his helmet
>He attaches that onto his pack before moving on
>Zhun, remembering his errand of trying to get a giant shipment of alchemical and medical supplies, decides to head into the southwest
>He strolls by, trying to determine if there are any bulk sellers

d8c43 No.222402

>"What would the Construct's say? Would it be understood?"
>Clem reaches the conclusion of the topic beyond himself
>Feels like trouble if that experiment happened
>Floating down, he sees all the batponies ready for boarding
>His senses filled with kee, he listens to the ship
"Adaptable, with even more unknown types. Bloodied Cult of Order?"
>Chiropteran, so bats
>But this is a new group to Clem
>"Silver Monolith…"
>Clem turns around and watches the ramp shut, ready for takeoff
>He ascends the stairs of the Arena but spots that hardcase fly off
>"What? Is that her doing that?"
>He notes the direction the piece went before seeing the ship depart
>Clem wistfully adds:
>He then makes his way to the piece, seeing what that is
>"Hopefully it's not just debris off the ship…"

e0758 No.222422

File: 1558195533270.png (781.06 KB, 872x1017, meCY0kd.png)

>Given the silent nod to begin perusing, Jeff does that and begins to browse the weapon racks. More so anything that fits the human anatomy.

>As he scans over the old weapons the councilmare, who's names still eluded him, chimes in for what sounds like the last time.

>What dingus of their's woke up THAT many vampires. And in Stalliongrad, no less?
>And why are there THAT many vampires under there anyway?
>Well, the hooded mare sounds Stalliongradian. Maybe there's a correlation.
(I'll keep them occupied until you arrive.)
>He got in the least word before she cuts the orb's transmission. He'll stall them until she shows up.

>Or maybe he'll get roped into defending the Citadel a bit more. Either one would be fine, but he'll need a bigger gun for Door Number 2.

>Luckily stalling will be easy enough as the lead vampire begins monologuing again. All he has to do is listen.
>Turning around quick to the sound of what he hopes isn't Mercy spiking Boris onto the stone floor, he looks back to the mare and lightly shrugs.
"That's what she calls herself. Ohhh those Destroyers. They're still being used, except instead of blood magic they've moved to manabombs."
>Realizing she's not going to buckle on her and the other's convictions, Jeff humorously sighs and crosses his arms.
"Well I have a life tenure of eighty years, if I'm lucky. How is it that you all sleep for so long? Live for that long, if I may ask? Sleeping away a few centuries sounds pretty nice, to be honest."
>She flops onto the floor, and he takes his eyes off of the weapons to focus on her display. Taking a seat of an empty futon to listen in on her.
>Seems like all they do is live to serve Luna's whim. And when they're not, they go back to sleep until she needs them again. Nothing sooths them, or brings them comfort.
"It sounds like you all tucked yourselves away without notice, can't blame everypony for forgetting. So you'll only answer to the Moon, herself? You might be here for a while; she's a little preoccupied on the Citadel. I couldn't even talk to her."
>As she finishes off her final say, Jeff looks at her with stoic concern.
"And you're all okay with that? Doesn't sound like you're happy. That should always come first, whether it's the Moon's word or not."

44700 No.222521

>No, Raindrop didn't notice, most likely due to keeping control of her hoofing while Witch-Two makes a brief image of the same human female shrugging.
>Stating that most never bothered asking for her real name to begin with, it was simply amusing in a redundant manner.
>Picking up thoughts, the Tracker pair respond in Witch-Two's place, the male half unperturbed while the female was annoyed:
'No, Enginseer. Those are the original human names we were given. The code names given were those assigned to us when joining Inquisitor Flash's retinue before a mission to retake an Ork infested Rhamses-class station. Unless given proper authority we cannot reveal specifics except a 'few' stray volleys struck an unstable, Ork modified plasma reactor. Rather than die we were all given the choice to accompany her as Machine Spirits without the 'necessary' mindwiping, programming… aaand the complete loss of all our knowledge. Technically we are merely downloaded human consciousnesses until Inquisitor Flash is able to construct bodies for each of us.'
>This began to give you some TRULY wholesome ideas.

>Witch-Two blips a short affirmation as Raindrop loses her hoofing, and while your immeasurably human body manages to snap into position atop the mare, your cold hands fumble across the back of her neck plating and saddle, unable to catch the hook.

>Losing the hold entirely, the pegasus Knight accelerates forwards into the mud, shouting aloud in an aery, biting language while you land ass first onto the mixed clay and mud..
>A situation that Witch-Two immediately begins laughing at before shutting down her datalink, though Tox-11 makes a brief, hard chuckle.
>Meanwhile, the Stormtrooper slips and royally sideplants into the muck with an angry exhale, his cheap lasrifle aimed safely upwards while also filling the voxlink with a profoundly small variety of swears, curses, and insults.

>Sliding down at a much lower pace than the other two, Raindrop's hooves and wingblades dig into the muck, slowing her down enough and eventually stopping, only for your feet to land into her armored rump.

>Remaining still for a few moments, you watch the Stormtrooper recover enough to make a kneeling slide position, skidding down to a halt into a vaguely flat, circular opening below.
>The outlines of a lone, fairly blocky two-story building ahead of him are mostly covered by the Knight turning her head back, eyebrows humorously raised behind the helmet's lenses.
"See, this is what happens when you jinx something on Tallus: it almost always happens. You said, quote, 'take the night by storm', and you really did. And the Knight, too. Keep your boots planted on me, I'll take us down slow."
>Snickering in a possibly unwholesome tone, she lifts her wingblades, allowing you to skid downwards behind her rather bumpily.

>Coming to a stop behind Chisan, bent over in his kneeling position, the constant sheets of rain had finally penetrated through the Inquisitor's Flak, causing you to shiver with a twinge of pain.

"Raindrop, suggest we.. inspect building ahead for.. shelter?"
>Wrenching herself upwards into a standing position, the Knight glances between you and the Scion once, nodding quickly before sliding towards the structure's doors, one of which was partially open.
"Yep, I'll take point but you two follow me close."
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 6 ] <E.Scouting
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 10 ]
1d6+4[ 1d6+4 = 5 ]

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