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P.N.See

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About P.N.See

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    Randomizer
  • 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. ◄◄◄◄◄ [DP] === TIM === [SP] ►►►►► One could argue that the terran turret held itself fairly well, despite of overall atmosphere of terror and that energy blast it had just received at point-blank range. But a short glimpse at its internal circuits - the only thing that distinguish it from a motionless gun on three legs - could reveal the real state of things, which was... well... it is beyond author's power to describe such a effed-up situation without relying on profanity. [1] All of turret's sensors were all fried up, all of its movements and decision making were handled by core processor unit alone. Such emergency state was out of its nominal capacity and could cause the overheat and eventual shutdown if not addressed quickly. [2] Again, it was the operator's duty - not the turret's one - to perform diagnostics and reconnect crucial peripherals to drop CPU load... But, yet again, Tim's operator was not here. And so it was up to Tim to set thing right inside. The turret's CPU attempted to ran the emergency subroutine and reboot itself in order to gain back access to its sensors. A second passed. Two seconds... Three... But there was no reaction. The turret's processor got stuck in a program loop, thus overloading itself even further. [3] If its temperature sensor was still intact, it would be literally screaming across the entire room - it was just THAT hot from within. At the moment the processor was able to jump out of the loop and restart a recovery process... just to be caught in a loop again. [4] There was only that "Protect" designation that was somehow detached from the core unit. Driven by it, the turret slowly turned itself toward the smallest entity and attempted to communicate with the only way it knew - by letting out human-like whispering noises. < M M M M M M M E > < M E E E T T I - POP! [5] ◄◄◄◄◄ [DP] === ...TIM? === [SP] ►►►►► The turret got suddenly silent, as a spark came out from inside. The signal lights went dim, a faint trail of smoke sprouted out from Tim's carcass. It was official: the processor was toast. And yet... the humming noise persisted. Not only that - it changed its pattern, going loud, then quiet, then loud again. It sounded just like... breathing. Between those periodic hums, one could heard a distinct whispering voice. Not a simulated noise. A voice. A deep, sinister voice. "HMMM. YES. WE. ARE. CLOSE." [6]
  2. Quick question: does area defense buff consumes backfire damage?
  3. Fine! Oh great and terrible Tim, destroyer of world (and my patience in particular) - PLEASE CALM D- Actually, no. Attempting to reassure the child. (d10 for success, d6 for bonus) ...Natural 1. By my calculations, THAT HURT
  4. Alright, trying again... Calm on Tim the Turret... N O P E
  5. DP 4/5 | SP 1/5 Hoo boy, attempting Calm on Tim the Haunted Turret... nope.avi
  6. The patian engineer gazed upon the crowd reluctantly. There was a subtle fear that his obvious hesitation during the beast's execution wouldn't be met with enthusiasm. However, he saw quite the opposite: the audience greeted him with cheer - and for a good reason. A hellhound was lying dead with its guts fully exposed, while Vlad's guts, as well as eyes and limbs, were in their respective places. Vlad was admired for a moment, but he reminded himself not to get use to it. After all, he was not a hothead mercenary or a ruthless slayer. And speaking of mercenaries and slayers... Vlad noticed that most of the combatants handled the reservoir dogs problem with relative ease and without unnecessary bloodshed. Some of them, however, were taking the "spectacle" part way too seriously and did not hesitate to bathe themselves in gore and blood. That could be said for Charlie the Pyromaniac, that could be said especially for that Shadow Guard. He watched her slice and dice those two hounds who definitely did not assess their life choice thoroughly. Vlad decided it would be best for him not to interrupt her moment of gory - oh, I'm sorry, glory - for the sake of her self-esteem... and his security. But then an another combatant drew Vlad's attention. Jack Murray, the Norkotian mercenary captain, was luring one of the remaining giant hounds - the one with a sword stuck between its ribs. The beast took the bait and left out the blond girl in favor for the gunslinger carrying two revolvers. A noble cause indeed, Vlad thought to himself, yet he assumed Jack couldn't stop the rushing hellhound without his testicles being chopped off. And Vlad had a subtle feeling the hound attack was just a warmup... He ran toward Jack and the hound, popping the shells inside his shotgun. As he shouted loudly and with as much intimidation as he could afford, the beast suddenly turned away from Murray and faced toward the engineer. And that was exactly what he needed. BOOM! *shk-chk* BOOM! *shk-chk* Vlad pulled the trigger at least twice before the scarred beast fell down. It didn't have enough energy and momentum to attack Vlad, so he had enough time to aim and shot off its limbs. He stepped closer while keeping his gun pointed at the body. The sword had slid further and out of hound's carcass as soon as its hilt made contact with the ground. The beast was motionless. Vlad used the fleeting moment to thank Gaia for not being forced to listen to agonizing whimpers and make eye contact with the creature he was about to kill. Then he turned to Jack, who might be displeased that his kill was stolen in broad daylight. But at least he should've appreciated the fact that he gave the powerful piece of Norkotian gear into reliable hands... "Captain Murray, I presume?"
  7. Before I plan my post, I would like to ask @Tyler about the Hound "Scar" he attacked earlier. How much HP does it have after Murray's two attacks? Your note says 3/5 HP, yet the hound's prior health was 4/5 HP...
  8. @EpicRome23 Love that little exposition of your hellhounds.
  9. Fractureans, you say? Hmm... Sounds legit, I'm down for that one.
  10. So... How do I refer to Fracture's natives now? The former collective name was "terrans", as far as I remember, so what is the new one? Fracturers? Fractured Ones? The Fracs?
  11. ◄◄◄◄◄ [DP] === TURRET TIM === [SP] ►►►►► < _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ > < m m m m m m m m > The buzz morphed into an audible hum when the turret's energy sensors had picked up more sources of disturbance. It turned slowly around to briefly scan the area, while keeping the smallest entity in mind (or rather, in memory). The numbers were mostly the same: several "neutral" entities, five "hostiles" - two greater ones and three lesser ones... But there was something else [1]. The turret focuses on a strange entity that resembled the smallest one in a far corner. As it tried to focus on that entity and scan it thoroughly, a sudden designation appeared in internal memory. A singular word like the one was before. But shorter. And more impactful. R U N A loud high frequency beep came out from speakers, alerting everyone in vicinity about the dark entity and the dangers it may pose. But alas, the members of the group either were not able to see the threat or were busy with their psychic issues. After some time under never-ending pressure wasted on futile warnings the turret's hums became louder and more varied in tone [2]. < m m m M M M M M > Forced to follow the "Protect" designation (which wasn't colliding with the new one), the turret turned back toward the hostile entity it attacked, ignoring lesser targets around it. Despite of major malfunctions, it marked the entity as a target without any delay and took a few single shots at it [3]. === THE FATHER ===█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █1/8 HP (1HP taken) The static spike followed after the turret attack did numbers on its internal circuits. Without sensors it had gone practically blind, unable to make target markings, friend-or-foe identification or any related calculations [4]. However, its mechanical systems and "Protect" designation still remained intact. That and few program banks preserved since the jungle encounter should be enough to finish the job. The turret carefully pointed its gun barrel at the entity ahead and started spinning it. The speakers cracked, then let out mechanical sound that may be mistaken for a whisper. A distorted human whisper. < B B A D D D A D > RRRRRRAAAATAKKATAKKATAKKATAKKATAKKA! [5] === THE FATHER ===█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █0/8 HP (1HP taken) When the hostile entity's mutilated body had dropped on the floor, the turret stopped firing, and barrels stopped. There was a faint smoke coming from the barrel's end, the body and the perforated wall it was standing ahead of. The turret attempted to start the recalibration process, but the internal systems were not responding and reserved program banks were already dead [6]. Deeply affected by multiple errors, the machine beeped with a tone of annoyance (that could be at some extent expressed by a malfunctioning piece of hardware) and hummed something that could be interpreted only as < N N O T G O O D >
  12. M M M E T I M M Tim, stabilize yourself. - Tough luck...
  13. B A D D D A D D Tim, FINISH HIM! 2nd try. - Gosh darn it! Applying +3 buff...
  14. M M M M M M M M Tim, attack Father, 1st try. - Close call!
  15. @EpicRome23 ...Vlad's overconfidence rapidly vanished as soon as the cold steel had touched his neck. He struggled to gulp, his Adam's apple twitched under the blade. The engineer slowly moved up his gaze from the sword toward the woman in a black armor. He couldn't see her face in detail with her visor lifted up ever so slightly. Yet seeing her sadistic grin was enough for him to feel himself even more uncomfortable. Oh Mother Gaia, how gleefully she was describing all the atrocities he - of all people! - would commit for the sake of someone's entertainment! Oh, how she enjoyed humiliating him, calling him cannon fodder... after all he had endured! And yet, Vlad was holding himself back. Only a fool would provoke such an opponent (definitely, Shadow Guard was NOT shaped like a friend at all) even further up to a bloodshed. And he was no fool. He was silent during the Guard's entire monologue. Neither did he say anything to her after she'd removed the blade. He carelessly wiped out the traces of blood on his neck and gazed back at the guard one last time. Better not to make any contacts with that lady anymore, he thought to himself. Point taken, lesson learned. There was a fleeting and vile moment, however - a moment where he asked himself whether she would grin like that when a gun barrel is put just under her chin... But the young emperor's shout distracted him from fixating on that power fantasy. "Alright! May the bloodshed begin!!!" No more rivalries, then. The game was on. A pack of pitch-black quadrupedal beasts rushed through the opened gates toward the combatants. Before Vlad could react, one of them had split from the pack and suddenly jumped at him with its jaw wide open. Driven by a familiar instinct, Vlad turned the gun upside-down and smashed the beast's snout with a stock. The beast was propelled a few meters away and hit the ground. The moment later, it was on its four already. Then it charged at Vlad with a deep, terrifying roar. Only a grazing shot from the engineer's rifle made it stop its attack. For a few moments the man and the beast were walking in circles, assessing each other. Vlad used this pause to catch the breath and examine his opponent, while attempting not to accidentally meet its eyes. It was a large sized dog with black short-haired fur, some kind of hound (Vlad couldn't determine the exact breed of it, thus nothing was there to say about it). Its bare teeth we covered in saliva and blood, which was dripping from the freshly broken nose. There was periodic growling coming from the dog-beast, indicating on ever-persistent threat. Vlad watched its movements carefully - he was already convinced it was insanely fast. One step forward, one careless noise - and his testicles will be sandwiched between its fangs. Truth be told, Vlad had no desire to take down the beast, at least the straight way. Chhitten, furnace zombies - granted, they were hideous and not tied to Vlad's world. But this... was a dog. An earthbound creature, a being with feelings. And yet it was a threat, a reason to overcome any sentiments for the sake of self defense... They kept walking around, yet they know - the man and the beast - their roundabout wouldn't last forever. This wasn't what audience wanted, after all. "They want a spectacle, huh?" - Vlad thought. - "Fine then." *shk-chk* The click of a gun pump had disturbed the dog, which was kind of intended. The hound barked angrily and launched itself at Vlad. He lowered his aim and unloaded another shell into the left front leg. The flesh had been torn by the shot, and the beast responded with a yelp. He assumed that would make the dog drop its aggressive intent. But alas, it was quite durable for a simple dog... and quite stubborn. Even with a limp leg it roared and charged head-on at the engineer. Vlad quickly stepped aside and raised his gun. But because of the intensity of their "dance" he was unable to stabilize his aim before he had pulled the trigger... BOOOOOM! The dog's abdomen had been shattered instead of a rear leg Vlad was aiming at. The hound slipped down into the puddle of its own blood. At first glance, the hound wasn't moving at all, but among the chaos going on inside the arena Vlad noticed some audible sounds it was making. It was not a threatening growl from before... but a fainted whimper. Vlad slowly came close to the wounded hound, ejecting the emptied shell. *shk-chk* The creature that was trying to chop out his legs seconds ago was at this moment looking at his "prey" with puppy eyes full of unbearable pain. Its heavy breathing was interchanging with a hard-pitched yelps. Vlad's hands trembled. He wanted none of this. He had not signed up to become a ruthless killer, even if this whole bloodfest was just a sick imagination. The Spire incident had broken him, and Yh'mi was only amplifying the damage. Vlad felt hundreds of eyes gazing at him, feasting on his hesitation. It was hard to tell, whether the audience was fixated on a general spectacle or pinpointing the separate individuals. But Vlad heard voices, multiple voices that shouted "Kill it. Kill it! KILL IT!". They were becoming louder and louder, almost unbearable. Still trembling, Vlad inhaled and squinted eyes. The finger slightly touched the trigger and... BOOOOOOOOM! The whimpering had stopped. The voices went silent. It had been done. Vlad exhaled, slowly opened his eyes and gazed upon his first "frag" in the arena. The hound, although surprisingly tough for its species, had received too much injuries to sustain. In some twisted way, Vlad had a some sort of... relief? He was able to assured himself it was nothing short of self-defense. He came out of this encounter unharmed, he had shown his prowess, the audience must be happy (as well as that creepy Shadow Guard). He looked at his Norkotian gun, still smoking after the last shot. It was certainly much more powerful than his working contraptions and his old mana gun. No wonder those mercs were feeling way too trigger-happy with such things in their hands. And yet, Vlad was still disgusted by the fact he was forced once again to take life from a living creature (those yh'mian insects does not count, mind you). He wondered since when he had been walking down this bloody road. And instantly his mind was leading him toward the giant spire concealed in maddening mist... The engineer instantly shook his head. He was too exposed to safely dive down into his own head. There was still a rabid pack to dispose of... and a selfish crowd to please.
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