WEEK 13 - 01010000 01000001 01011001 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101 01010010 00100000 01010010

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (13)

saturday (10) survivors Something is different. You can feel it in the air: an ominous presence that weighs down the ship like it's underwater. Try as you might, you can't escape the feeling that you're being watched, the sensation of someone just out of view tailing you. Tensions are high, and paranoia grows with it. You feel it more than see it, and that's what warps your perception of the ship. Is it darker? Are the lights dimming? Who is it that calls out to you? Why is it so cold? Who can you trust? The distinct sensation of not knowing who your back is to wraps around you. There is one thing you can trust in, however; though you feel exposed, you are not alone. Mother is here for you. taken list profiles private conversations setting rulebook ENTER COMMAND_

Comments

[tevinteriscoming]

[Sure, Judar. If that's what you want, you get your wish - two more corpses come down the hall, to join Fiona in trying to attack him. It's....Alita Tiala, her body pierced and bloodied, and everyone's favorite, Calypso Drew, her body stabbed all over. They're both holding flails. Enjoy!]

[douchemag]

...who the fuck are these people?

[No seriously, who the fuck are they. Mages??? Dorian's classmates??? He has no idea, because he's certainly never seen them before! At any rate, those flails look nasty, so he's just going to stay out of range and hit them from a distance with a minor ice tornado. Most offensive attacks probably won't work if they're already dead, but hopefully the wind and ice will rip them apart enough that they can't use their limbs anymore.]

[tevinteriscoming]

[That works - they wind up flailing each other to death.

Oh - but here's more of a challenge - a giant iceberg filling the room. Here comes Harold, her corpse seemingly held together by magic alone, with her face nowhere to be found.]

[thanatosincarnate]

...Annoyances.

{ Arumat curses underneath his breath, his eyes narrowing at the infernal creature copied in a rotting form of himself escaping his own wrath. He's despising this ever single second more the chance he has to for that matter. If anything, seeing himself dodge has him keep an eye out, and the charge has him hesitate, not exactly to move into action just yet.

Then, when the feint comes, he's forced to raise his scythe as well as attempt to move back, but it's against himself we're talking about here. The scythe has accursed long range, and judging from the line of red on his right shoulder all does not go according to plan. Given the pain of the corruption rune, it's more than an irritance, but Arumat's got his endurance for a reason and he's good at covering up pain.

But the next thing on his mind is to try to fire off a spell. One different from his Fire Ball spell ( one called Explosion that would release an explosive amount of flames upon his enemies if successfully cast and if it hit ). This is whilst he holds up his own scythe in a defensive position. He hates wasting his time with spells but sometimes trying strategy ( ew ) might have its merits.

...And no clue how this fits in with Harold tumbling in, but assuming Judar's probably handling that. }

[tevinteriscoming]

[Arumat's strategy of casting a massive amount of flames on himself appears to go according to plan - his corpse goes up in flames, and the iceberg begins to melt.]

[douchemag]

Oh, gross. How many corpses are you keeping around here anyway?

[Yeah, he sure...doesn't recognize Harold either...though to be fair, the lack of face is probably a factor in that. Anyway, there's about a hundred ways he could take care of that giant iceberg, so naturally he picks the stupidest one - which is to try to summon an even bigger iceberg and squash them both with it. Listen, even in a fake reality, he's still freakishly competetive over this shit.]