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About P.N.See

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  • Birthday 08/15/1994

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  • Location
    Land of Cold Spring and Expensive Chocolate
  • Occupation
    Programming Engineer @MSTU (Murmansk State Technical University)

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  1. "Is this thing on?" - Vlad asked himself, tapping on his headset's mic. The speakers responded with a static spike, not deafening yet annoying. Having ensured everything had been prepared according to the instructions, Vlad sighed and gazed into a long roll of parchment. And when will those bucketheads learn to fold the paper? When he found a required sentence, he glanced at a metallic cube before him and exclaimed: "UNIT OH-THREE: ENTER ACTIVE MODE, AUTHORIZATION CODE: TWO-THREE-FOR-TWO." After two beeps resonating within headset, the cube started to reassemble itself. Three supporting legs erected from its bottom, while the chassis itself rose and dropped the shutter, leaving place for two bullet caskets and dual long barrel to roll out from. A finishing touch - from the chassis' top slid the cassette with a pair of optical sensors, which illuminated space ahead of the contraption upon activation. Another beep, a long one. It was ready. "So far so good..." - Vlad mumbled, sliding down his fingers on the parchment in his hand. - "Let's go with the standard ones. Let's see. UNIT OH-THREE: TARGET MARK, AT 12 O'CLOCK, 50 METERS!" The contraption made a low-pitched beep and turned itself toward the mannequin placed in an isolated space behind temporary walls. Like two other ones near it, it was crudely made with a couple of cloth sacks, rocks and sticks. It was also bearing a face drawing of questionable quality. This "masterpiece" was created by a collective mind of some "second wave" mercenaries. They were there, watching at the demonstration and drinking just everything that they managed to save during their travel by sheer luck. The audience was the last thing Vlad would expect this night. Not waiting for anyone's signal or cheers, Vlad commanded: "SEMI-AUTO, ON TARGET, OPEN FIRE!". Then a series of short high-pitched followed, and an contraption shot at the mannequin. A high-caliber bullet flew through the fabric and stuff under it, tearing it like, well, fabric. Then another shot followed. And another. And another. Rhythmic. Precise. Cold-blooded. The turret stopped spitting shots after Vlad ordered to CEASE FIRE - all according to the protocol. The target was messed up enough to be considered "eliminated". Mercs greeted the turret operator with cheers and pleaded for making a little more damage. Vlad did not react and continued to scan the instructions for another command set. "Alright... UNIT OH-THREE: TARGET MARK, AT 11 O'CLOCK, 45 METERS!". As the turret set its mark, Vlad continued: "BURST MODE, 3 AT THE TIME, START FROM LIMBS, DOWNWARDS... OPEN FIRE!" Another set of beeps. But before the actual shooting, the turret turned on a red flashlight in a head cassette. The light from it traveled across the mannequin in search of anything that could be counted as "limb". But it was only able to focus on an upper cloth bag resembling dummy's head. The lights went off, and the bullets went loose. Takk-takk-takk. Takk-takk-takk. Takk-takk-takk. With each burst three bullets hit the target with an intriguing accuracy. After five bursts the mannequin's head was torn apart, and the turret retargeted itself to shoot the "body" until Vlad stopped it. The mercenaries were already full of excitement and alcohol. They were wooing and screaming, dragging the attention of nearby fort guards. They were asking for more gunplay, but Vlad had been already satisfied by turret's performance. That travelling arms dealer wasn't lying about those things. "I think we're done here." - Vlad spoke softly. - "UNIT OH-THREE, STA-" "H-hey Phil! Ya forgot that one over here!" - suddenly one of the mercs shouted at him and pointed at the lone mannequin standing near the broken ones. Vlad planned to go full auto on this one, but the members of the Order forbid doing so. Hell, even asking for permission for making those isolated shots was a giant pain in the ass. We shan't make a noise, they say, we mustn't drag Yh'mi's attention and all that stuff. "Sorry, gentlemen." - Vlad sighed - "Party's over." But the mercs were too persistent. "Aaah, don't be a chicken, Phil." "Yeah, just a little brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt!" "Go for the kill, Phil!" "Phil, kill!" "Phil, kill!" "PHIL, KILL!" One could hear a group of drunken men chanting "Phil, kill! Phil, kill!" and tapping their feet in rhythm. Vlad was already regretting that he shared a drink with those swines and went by his moniker, not his real name. That name was reminding him of the Spire and everything that happened in Tia, the matter that he wish he didn't remember. And yet, those taunting shouts were teasing his own curiosity. It was an urge of an inner child constantly asking what THIS particular button does. In a short inner struggle a man of rationality, bound by fear before Order's wrath, started to lose to that child. "Cap's gonna have my ass for this." - Vlad grumbled and then shouted back at mercs. - "So, you want me go for the kill, huh?!". They responded with the loudest cheer their alcohol-soaked throats could afford. "Well then..." - Vlad smirked. - "In that case: UNIT OH-THREE: TARGET MARK, AT 1 O'CLOCK, 45 METERS, FULL AUTO!" The gun barrel started to spin. First slowly, then accelerating, motor revving louder and louder. The audience was screaming in sync with a spinning barrel, beyond excited about the upcoming bullet shower... "Mr. Nassar? Mr. Nassar!" Vlad barely opened his mouth to shout the command, when a figure in silver armor arose behind him, a member of second-wave guard assigned by the Order. Even in headset, the engineer was able to hear him out, even though the barrel motor was too loud to let them hold the conversation. So Vlad had to cancel his command, and the turret stopped spinning the barrel. The mercenaries let out a moan filled with disappointment. One of them even shouted at a guard: "P-party pooper!" Soon they left the sandlot, leaving the last dummy standing and a bunch of bottles behind. For once Vlad was relieved with the guardman's arrival, lest he would waste a lot of ammo just for someone's jokes and giggles. "Mr. Nassar." - the guardsman said. - "A merchant from Ignatz awaits you in the Meeting Hall. I suggest you to come here as soon as possible. His cavaran will be leaving soon." "Is it about the shipment's finalization?" - Vlad responded. - "Yes, yes, I was going there already. Just... give me a few more seconds." Before following after the guardsman, Vlad turned to the turret for the last time and spoke into the mic: "UNIT OH-THREE: ENTER STANDBY MODE". After the short beeps the machine folded itself back into its former, cubic form. There it would be resting till the moment when it will be unloaded along with three other turret and lay the foundation of the vast Furthest Point defense grid.
  2. Given the fact that half of the crew is a bunch of walking TF2 references and there is literally TF2 Soldier among them... I say we're all going to die in a fort full of lunatics.
  3. APRIL FOOLS SPECIAL - ROUND 4/4 Though initially impatient, Vlad was wise enough to not run outside the runic circle and let Lady Selena do her magic work. He didn't knew the true purpose of an initial ritual with circles and hand imprint, but the results of it seemed to raise Selena and Soryn's brows, which definitely meant something. Vlad attempted to communicate with the reporter, tried to emphasize on some words or letters. He wanted to say "It's me, Vlad. V-L-A-D. Don't you recognize me?". But alas, Soryn would hear "Bok-bawk, bawk. Bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk. Bok-bawk boh-boh-bawk boh?" and nothing else. There was an idea to draw the message on the ground with his talons, but that would require a vast space, which wasn't at Vlad's disposal. All he could do for that moment was to stay and listen to his companions' conversations. But Soryn was already ahead of him in his intentions: he grabbed Vlad and carried him towards Selena to share his concerns about the chicken not being what it seemed. Through the conversation between Selena and Soryn Vlad learnt about true fate of Tia - and that was exceeding his worst expectations. Chemical attacks, complete infrastructure annihilation, population genocide - all happened within several days... Vlad remembered most of Tia's landmarks he noted after destroying the Spire of Sacrifice. Then he imagined them reduced to rubble. The entirety of his bird body shuddered. No known war-mongering tyrant from the other side of Valucre couldn't be THAT monstrous. Not this close. Nevertheless, time for another ritual was coming. Once again Selena placed Vlad on the ground and conjured a new set of bigger runic circles. But this time the rooster felt a sudden surge of pulsating energy going throughout his very image. He could swear his body was reshaping, reforming, restoring. His soul was rising above higher and higher - like a sunflower reaching for sunrays... But as this incredible sensation had worn off and the energy surge had stopped, Vlad found himself - much to his dismay - standing on the same height in the same form on a barren, runeless ground. And yet... Vlad could not put his fing- oh, I'm sorry, talon - talon on it, but the way he perceived the world was... different? At this moment he catch a glimpse of former conversation's continuation where Selena shared her connections to Tia. One particular fact about her was that she was the former major of the city. Then Vlad recalled something about the current major. Well, the former current mayor. The engineer happened to be one of the few people in Terrenus who was aware of Tia's dirty little secret. The mayor was just a cover-up, while the true ruler was alongside Vlad during the entire Spire crisis. And his name was- "I think I might be able to share something about what was happening before the fall." - he spoke unconsciously, his words unconditionally addressed to Selena. Normally he would get on with that - nobody would understand him anyway. But that was where things would get... weird. Vlad noticed a few people looking at him with confusion. A faint whisper "Did someone said anything?" could be heard. At first Vlad was unable to figure out the reason behind such reaction, then he listened carefully and... The bawking sounds. They had stopped. "Uh... What's going on?" - Vlad let out. Sounds coming from his beak were perfectly synchronized with his thoughts. Instead of chicken blubbering there was a comprehensible male voice. A rooster speaking in fluent Terran - now THAT was weird. Vlad stuttered, looking sporadically at folks surrounding him: "I-i mean... B-bawk-bak-uuuuhh... Cock-a-doodle-doo-and stuff... Argh, crapsters. This is gonna be hard to explain... Listen, I---". But before he could explain anything, his legs had suddenly stretched out with a loud POP! and instantly morphed into human ones with an onyx scar on the left side. Now the rooster would be a half of Soryn's height, standing on a pair of completely naked human legs. Having realized the horror of upcoming metamorphosis, Vlad screamed with his fully restored Patian accent: "Look away! I don't like where this is going!" So do I, Vlad, so do I.
  4. It's not that it has its own personality to be actually RP'ed. However, with a patented Yh'mi Kookiness Exposure it might work out. "Might" is the keyword. I expect it to be FUBAR anyway.
  5. Two planes of reality, huh? Those ones that prevent damage translating from one dimension to another? Where did I saw that before? ...Guess I'll go with a split.
  6. APRIL FOOLS SPECIAL - ROUND 3/4 Before Vlad spat out another sentence, he felt Soryn's fingers going though his plumage... What a, uh, curious sensation, Vlad thought. Suddenly he had soared above the ground in the reporter's hands - just before that crazed pyromaniac and that some sort of a scout reached their game. Listening to Soryn scolding ever-hungry mercenaries was music to Vlad's non-prominent ears. And his keen eyes deserved appraisal as well: by looking at a live chicken in the midst of Yh'mi's wasteland he raised the question about its origin, not about its flavor and meat tenderness. "Oughtta be grabbing a drink for him when it's over." - Vlad noted to himself. Soryn carried Vlad through the camp, and Vlad did not resist. Though the engineer wasn't used to be hauled like - may Mother Gaia forgive me for such ungodly reference - a bucket of chicken, in this particular situation he had almost no reason to complain about it. The only concern was the possibility that Soryn was carrying him to a cook. You know, just to serve him under a proper temperature regimen. But this night luck was on the side of Vlad the Rooster! He had been brought to the mage named Selena Nichole - the same graceful woman Vlad saw at the beginning of an expedition. Soryn asked her to check the suspicious rooster for some anomalies. Vlad was aching to say "Well, excuse me, milady, but yeah, I do have an anomaly - I'm literally trapped in a bird's body!", but quickly realized neither Soryn nor Selena would recognize anything behind boks and bawks. He was calm and quiet during the entire conversation between them. There was only one time when he interrupted the silence with his chicken sounds: one time when they mentioned the fall of Tia. Vlad heard nothing about the city since he had left it in haste. It was in a prolonged turmoil, teared apart by human-vampire conflict... But to perish?! To be destroyed?! Vlad was only once in Tia - when Spire and Mist crisis occured - and yet the fact that one of Terrenus' finest cities was no more was a hard pill to swallow. Nonetheless, the time of ritual was coming. Selena took Vlad from Soryn and gently placed him on the ground. As she whispered "Be still", the rooster nodded obediently. He had reasons to trust her magic and hoped his human form would be restored with no side effects. A glowing circle materialized around Vlad, filling the chicken's form with energy... but not "hex-removing" kind of energy. "Bok! Bawk-bok bok bok-boh-bok..." [Hey! Nothing is happening...] "B- bawk boh boh bawk-bawk?" [W-where are you going?] Vlad watched helplessly, heart pounding and eyes wide open out of primal fear, as Selena had left him inside the circle and walked away gracefully. He was trapped, unable to move... and open for grabs for some hungry individuals. (Possible consequences of breaking the super secret magic ritual are not the part of our TED Talk).
  7. Huh. A fascinating concept indeed. Of course, if I'm not mistaken, there should be regulations regarding the interaction between material plane and nightmare realm (i.e. if physical damage from one plane to another would be ignored or not OR there would be rifts/wormholes to hop from plane to plane). Either way, I'll make my turret unit stationary, if you don't mind.
  8. Given how much time we've got to prepare for another assault... I think it might be interesting. But I cannot say anything regarding turret movement unless it's clear whether or not there are quadrants involved. Initially I planned to use turret character as a weapon being utilized when Vlad interacts with it via free action and not by any means otherwise. Both Vlad and the turret would be unable to "move" in a strategic sense, guarding one side of an outpost, for example. I did not think about hauling, though...
  9. Name: Vlad "Philosopher" Nassar Role: Technician/Turret Operator (Support) Status: Veteran Starting HP: 5/5 HP Starting Sanity: 4/5 Sanity Normal Skills: Defend, Meditate, Attack Special Skills: Counter-attack (3/3), Advanced Buff (3/3), Mass Healing (3/3) Name: Terran Minigun Turret ("Timothy", "Tim") - standard-issue automated weapon with a bare-bone friend-or-foe protocol. Role: Stationary Weapon (Assault) Status: Newcomer Starting Durability: 5/5 DP Starting Circuit Stability: 5/5 Stability Normal Skills: Attack, Taunt, Buff Special Skills: Area Attack (3/3), Area Defense (3/3) Battlefield Control Example
  10. APRIL FOOLS SPECIAL - ROUND 2/4 After making circles in uncontrollable panic, Vlad stopped. Even though he was unable to control his constant bawking, he could, in fact, control his transformed body, for his consciousness was still his... probably. "Alright, Vlad, keep it cool." - he thought, trying to convey his words as much as his bird brains could handle. - "This is just a joke. This is not permanent. There must be some way to dispel that curse... Now how I would be--". "Hey, there little fella'! What are you doing out here?" His sporadic thought process was suddenly interrupted by a huge shadow looming over the enchanted rooster. Vlad raised his tiny head and noticed a man - practically a giant from his perspective. He recognized him as one of those mercenaries who had joined the convoy. The situation was tricky, so to speak. "Uh... Look, friend, I can explain..." - Vlad spoke to the newcomer... Uh, well, actually he was thinking that he spoke in plain Terran. But because this isn't some animated images from Terra Alternis (or cartoon, as some outworlders may call it), he was actually speaking in plain chicken - if "speak" could be ever applied to a bird. So, for the audience's convenience, Vlad's actual "noises" would be provided with a translation in square brackets. Without further ado... "Buuh... Bok, bawk, bok-bok bo-bawk..." [Uh... Look, friend, I can explain...] And of course, instead of a suitable answer, Vlad would receive a sense of dread... and a smell of something roasted. "Don't you know that this isn't a good neighborhood for chickens?" - the stranger grinned, raising his hand engulfed in flames. - "Don't worry though. Uncle Charlie's here to help! You just sit still now... Just relax. It'll all be over soon. Don't run." The last sentence sounded intimidating - and urging to do the opposite. The fear was strong in Vlad's tiny heart... but the desire of not becoming someone's dinner was even stronger. Once the fiery ball had been thrown at Vlad, he dashed between stranger's legs and rushed outside and away. A picture of a blast flying into his face was still imprinted before his googly eyes. "Bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk!!!" [Shit-shit-shit-shit!] He ran as fast as a well-trained racer rooster - yet without direction or purpose, just to get away from that hungry maniac. He was so fixated on escaping process he hadn't noticed an obs- WHAM! Oh, nevermind. Our feathery friend tumbled back after the impact, barely keeping his fragile bones in place. He turned around and noticed another gigantic figure. But there was no hostility in that figure's face... it was Soryn, the reporter. Vlad exclaimed: "Bah, bak-bah. Bawk bah-bah, bok bawk-boh." [Ah, Soryn! Thank Gaia, I've found you!] "Bok boh-bok bawk bok, bok!" [You gotta help me, man!] @zackrobbman @Dolor Aeternum
  11. Yeah, should've done that in the first place. I'll make a proper post soon.
  12. Yes. It was intended for Yh'mi interest check, but I misposted. Care to delete that?
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