Messages

16

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: June 01, 2024, 12:04:56 am »

August 16th, 2603
Snakesday

Agh. I'm walking with a cane right now. Leg's a little lame, but I'll be functional here soon enough. There is advantages to being the Captain... and also annoyances. This is both in one. But I've been called for regarding some matters in the science wing, regarding the Brainers and Herbalists. A gentle clack to echo in this cacophony of madness and debauchery that is our home. I am interrupted by the echoing sound of noise behind me- as I cant my head to look.

The hanger is ablomb with noise and crew, arguing with each other. It is often wise to figure out what the crew is grumbling about before I have to take personal discipline on the matter. Introduce people to the brig, or the beatstick, or some other manner to keep them calm. The "Herbalist weed punishment" is a particularly fearsome one, as no one wishes to be in the same room as the head priestess when it goes on.

Indescribable things happen in those chambers. I am better off not knowing what.

Thankfully, it was something rather pedantic in the longrun. The first of the Hoverbikes was commissioned and sent to Starlight. It hadn't even been a day and kits are clamoring over it: wanting to give it special paint jobs, or claim ownership. I swore I even heard someone claiming they wanted to drop nukes off the back of the Cargo bay. There was the echoing sound of wrestling and tackling as teeth, fur and claw was leveraged in what could best be described as 'Catfights'. MP's were nearby to ensure nothing got out of hand (Even though some of the senior staff were in this kerfluffle...), so the situation was well in hand.

Besides, if they dont cut loose over pedantic, silly matters- they'll get themselves hurt over something else. So I let them be. I haven't needed to judicate every last thing in this base for a long time.

Instead, my focus returned back to the center of my actual attention. The laugh was welcome and a helpful salve. I found myself bypassing the Lab curiously enough (And to my annoyance), so having to walk from the literal end of one base to the other had better been worth the fact I was charlie horsing myself.

It was.

Before me stood a complex of supercomputers, hypertuned frequencies and signal boosters. An industrial strength cable directly running to the Hyper-Pulse Generator, and providing it and this new communications wing a symbiotic function. Whilst still under construction- Even its Skeletal structure was... Inspiring. Enough so that I wasn't going to rag someone in telling me that this should have been labeled as an Engineering project. But that is besides the point- Neither here nor there.

My fingers run across holograhic keys- tactile output tickling my fingers as resonance pinches back at me. This was it. This was happening. My eyes look to the monitors to be imbedded above- and I let out a deep breath, held for at least three years at this point. A smile crosses my features. Whilst the situation had become far more complicated... There was always the possibility to go home now. To petition the empress herself. No more middle-men, no more in-betweens. We could extradite people.

After three long years, I can abide by my promise. We could go home... Well. Others. The deals I've made. The angles I've had to play. The... Destiny that is before me. There was no going home for me anymore. There was only the path ahead. The road as a monarch- a Queen. A conqueror. But I could protect those who didn't want to be here. Protect those whom were done with the fighting. Protect those whom wanted to leave.

We often forget the point of violence. That it is a means to live- that glory is the foundation of our lives. That by fighting honorably, we give purpose to the violence and meaning to elevate us to a civilized status. That the measure of our worth is by the skill of our martial prowess. Whilst it is true that without the strength to see ones ideals through- without the will to power to seize and fulfill ones ambitions, that they are worth nothing in this world... It cannot be the end of the road.

Violence is a means to an end. Battle, not unlike winter, shall turn to peaceful spring.

Stream is Live!
Hope is a Fragile Currency...

17

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 30, 2024, 12:10:25 am »

July 14th, 2603
Crossday

Another man, spent and used like a torch. I grumble sharply as I pinch my brow, ears flicking with murderous intent- the tips pointed not unlike throwing daggers. I already know the words to be spoken: 'He knows nothing of the code. He cannot break the encryption'. My orders are the same: Let him go. He is of no worth to us. Perhaps it is unsurprising, That ship engineers would only know of ships and their function. But that does not help us now, nor me as I am gathered before my Claw-Sisters.

I am put before my peers. I am to explain myself, and the situation at hand. Whilst we have avoided disaster so far, it is only a matter of time. Even if this was to go perfectly, my crew wants to know why there are spotters attempting to TAG our home. So. With a heavy breath, I lean forward to start to explain myself.

"To explain, we're not blood-" "Well, No shit. Your not Canadian. Your weird Capnyan, but I dont think you've got royal blood in you!"

I shoot a look towards the Kit who mouthed off, a discerning eye as if judicating her punishment. She merely whistles and looks off to the side. A wonderful start to the conversation as snickering echos in the room. The next breath taken is a lighter one.

"...Right. Yes. So moving along. Aurora has been in contact with us for a long time-" "Hold on, she's been in our phone lines before this?! How long?!" I pull out a pen and chuck it at the second kit to interrupt me- the 'whiskers' on my face scrounging up as I flick it at her. "The next one to interrupt me gets a bottle to the head and a trip to the medical bay. Do I make myself clear?"

There is a silence. It goes on uncomfortably long, before I groan with a distain. Now they're following orders. I rotate my cuff, and receive the choir of obedience I asked for. Okay. Deep, irritated breath.

"...As for HOW long, she's been following us nearly the entire journey." I can feel the eyes boring into me. Yes. There is truth in this manner. I never really noted it down- assuming it was some girl whom became a Stalker. She dressed up as a pirate to try and impress me! Then when I didn't heap praise on her, she got incessantly depressed and bothered- What. Should I be concerned over every caller or individual whom wishes to throw themselves at my feet? That happens almost weekly now.

"...It started innocently enough. She called us over Government codes, when we still figuring things out. Said she was a fan, wanted to know more about Shadowtech-" A third of the crew breathes in to speak. I hold up a bottle of rum- and she acquiesces. No one wants to go back to the Medical wing- I get enough complaints that they have to stay in for too long. "-Which we didn't understand at the time. We had a few pieces of tech that made our base run. I made a few inquiries after the call and no one could trace the logs. So I let it be. Then she called a few more times. If people want to purview the logs, I had those recorded."

There is a silence. Good. Fear of the empress was put into them. Or the fear of the saint. Im starting to like that. My hands gently grip and loosen, as I speak.

"Yet she kept pressing. Wanting to know more. First she tried to placate me, dressing up as a pirate and sending me it as a selfie-" That got a chorus of snickers. I allowed them that, because it was pretty silly at the time. "-Then she wanted to know whom my masters were. I told her we had none... And she called me a liar." To quote the empress would have been equally unbelievable to a child. Or worse, made us attached to the Academy. So instead, I will bask in being a Queen. "..She danced before me as if taken by a fey mood-" Spritely as one as well. "-Then became crestfallen. That she could no longer trust me. Not before she had me."

"And THAT wasnt worrying?!"

I rose the bottle up, angled up to throw at the voice... but it was a fair question- and I did get to regale the tale. So I nodded in affirmation to the statement. "No more threatening then what we'd faced up to that point. And we didn't know what she was capable of. So I brushed it off." A mistake that they were paying for in retrospect.

"So the disruptions from the satellites was her!" Once more, I nod. "And all these hunter killers-"

"Are her. It is why I've ordered a full mobilization. When she took over the video screens from our Communications array... That was her declaring war. That we were no longer prey, but capable of challenging her? She took it as a personal offense. Which leads us to now." I pull out the data pad, marked with the symbol of our foe. Engraved and opulent. "Our efforts have led us to This. A datapad recovered from one of the Hunter Killers. It is why I have press ganged every engineer into figuring out its encryption. The governments aren't assisting us-" A groan from the room, that wasn't unexpected. "-So we must solve our own problems again."

"Why do we even entertain them?! What good do they even do for us?!" Everyone stares at the poor Claw-Sister speaking out of turn, before there's a clearing of someone's voice. "They... They Pay us, you moron." "Yeah, even the Tribal knows they're not useless. Just assholes." A nervious laughter echoes- before I call everyone to attention.

"Our opinion of our sponsors Aside- we are getting close to cracking the code. Once we do, we might be able to figure out where Aurora has been holed up. Once we do-"

"We'll raid her home, steal her away and ransom her back to-"

The bottle goes flying, shattering on impact against her thick skull. Rum goes flying in all directions- and the tragedy of wasted spirits echoes in the room. I said I would. So I did.

"We will do more then just ransom her." I stand with a firm resolution, chair pushed back as I slam my hand on the table. "We will make the Crown of Canada bow to us. Then we will take it as a prize. Sisters, The Canadians have already declared war on us! This is merely a formality! This is but a step forward in our conquest! To make a nation of earth bow before us- Will only affirm the validity of our claims! I ask of you, whom will be Claw-Sister whom will bring me my prize?!

The room erupts, now sanctioned to indulge in noise as they trip over themselves vocally to do so. After all, it was a chance for glory. A chance to rise above in status of our house... And that in no small part, mine own aura can move the masses. As if I am coated in a mantle of glamour... A privilege afforded to me by my increasing mastery as a Saint. Even if my crew is resistant- Veterans and equally potent souls in their own right, Even they can be swayed.

We will need it. To declare war on the Crown Princess of Canada... It will be no easy task.

An Herbalist breaks into the room during the ramboncous cheer. "C-capnyan, the report you asked for..." Already meek, she was rendered twice shy. A gentle pat on the head elevates her fears, with claws to scratch behind the ears. I am feeling generous in this moment of exuberant cheer. The rumbling in her throat is lost amongst the noise- as my eyes drift to the papers.

Aurora was on the move... And our agents had returned from scouting a newly burgeoning enemy... The Sky Ninjas. Things were moving apace.

Stream is Over!
Beware, Beware. The Crown Princess Of Canada...

18

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 25, 2024, 12:13:30 am »

June 10th, 2603
Bloomsday

Klaxons would blare as an alert was broadcasted across holds. A muster to arms for all Aerospace assets: Mobilize and prepare to engage enemy air assets. This was not the usual Hunter-Killer Protocols, in which they sank ships for profit. No, this was a battle for survival. All weapons hot- Crews are to work extended shifts and ensure all wings are repaired and reloaded within an hour of their previous mission. The Armory was open, and all requisitions for additional ammo were sanctioned.

The Pilots, whom once fought each other for the privilege's of conducting these missions- now dreaded the extended combat. There would be no argument over whom fought for the house- Whom was a knight of the sky. The romance pushed aside as the emergency orders were given. Protest was stifled as video feeds of abandoned structures were being bombed by what looked to be drone assault ships.

Turbo Penetrator missiles. They could breach into the hideout. Accompanied by powerful blasters that could rip apart Aerospace hulls.

The importance of the mission was made evident. Flak-Cannons might be able to intercept the missiles, but every scout they let slip through the net- was a chance that their home would be struck by the finger of god. As made evident by early engagements as well, There were entire wings of them. The sky was mercifully not full of them (Yet), but if they could not keep up the pace? That could very well change. Glory could and would easily be found in fighting such a menace, but such desires of glory bled away to sheer pragmatism. Resolve and fighting like cornered rats.

Once more, The house was taught humility. That there was always someone far more dangerous out there, and that now they had become a significant thorn in someone's side... They were not afraid to use those assets. For whilst the pilots were given orders? Starlight would not forget how it started.

A Red-Eyed menace. A child, whom spoke both of whimsy and sadistic glee. Of wishing to get to know her 'older sister'. And then, when she fell into despair. Into apathy, to claim we were all bound by masters. Puppets on strings. Then finally, not unlike glass breaking when we countered her designs - she shattered. Broadcasting herself on our screen.

Declaring War. That all Meanies were to be exterminated.

Stream is Over!
Launch Every Cat-Jet. For Great Sauce.

19

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 23, 2024, 12:12:53 am »

May 15th, 2603
Skullsday

I have received my Claw-Sisters back from the void.

Catvy's in a Coma, The others describe being put into cages and tortured... Only a few were able to break through and take up arms to defend themselves. Perhaps it was a mistake to send in the most sensitive souls. I was unable to go on the mission myself, as I was still wounded. A mark of shame, really. I'm not one to send others where I would not go myself: And being wounded left me unable to do so. I'm still walking off injuries from the base assault- The Herbalists would not permit my passage. Perhaps now they have even more precedent to do so.

Sanity has always been something in short supply regarding this Crew. Starry eyed dreamers are not exactly bastions of common sense- Earth has proven itself to be a Chaotic mire of confusion, avarice and death... and now stepping beyond the veil- I worry that will be the breaking point for many of our number. I've come to understand why shamans were always mad; that our witches always seemed to be a little off and why our kin shy away from plying too many whom peruse that path.

Its madness. Soul rending madness, that part of me wishes I could step back from. But the shadowmasters will not let me.

I feel an inexorable pull to the void now. As if weight was pulling me down. I can fight it: Quite handily. The lessons learned from fighting the Witches trials, and my own... Abilities, protect me. But I've come to understand the dream that I once saw- that left me with our awakened codex: It was a trial. To see if I could withstand and fight back against the influence of this... Shadow. It was also a dare to ambition. The later of this to be pondered another time. The importance here is that I can. But how many others cant? I have to curate whom goes into the void carefully in the future now.

Perhaps I can consult with the herbalists whom can measure who has seen these dreams and rejected it? I cannot tell my sisters to abandon 'Voodoo', nor are we in a position to do so. This world is so deeply mired in it, that to step away from its offerings is tantamount to suicide. Cutting off your nose to spite your face. But it is no longer enough to measure just raw potential. I must measure their character.

I must measure their souls. But at least the pay is good... And these... Echoes. I've been called into the summoning halls. For the saint is needed to guide these souls as well...

Stream is Over!
A broken mirror, is a reflection of the soul...

20

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 18, 2024, 12:12:41 am »

Sorry about no stream on Wednesday, I was tasked with House sitting and a favor was called in. One does not ignore those whom helped your life back in order.

April 2nd, 2603
Shaday

Blood Trickles down my fullers.

Today is a day that lives on in Infamy... In a good way, mind you. Today is the day in which we have struck a decisive blow against the Traders guild. Their home, their hearth. A place of refuge. This was not merely just shipping or assets being maneuvered- though we've certainly taken plenty of those scores as well. But this is territory, and they will not forget this soon.

We're stripping everything from this place, up and to including the wall paneling. We've but a few hours before they can organize and get a task force out here, so its not an elegant job. But the salvage crews are working overtime, and every Claw-sister who isn't bleeding out and exhausted is getting in on matters. One of the few luxuries of being both captain and bullet-ridden: I need not get to work.

We've come a long way from being convicts. I can see it upon the brows of the Claw-Sisters. I can see it in their gait, in their practiced killing hands. We've become killers. Warriors, whom would be a fine addition to any army. Rivals to special forces. In today, we've proven that we are a warrior house. We've proven to the world that we are not merely raiders; opportunists whom clutched pearls from the sky. We are a true warrior house, and had we the ability to hold onto this territory... It would have made a fine fief.

The dead shall be left here. A message to those whom would follow: That they were not safe. That they would always have to fear our retaliation. And surely, we would have it in return. This was an escalation of the conflict: but they already were looking to wipe us out. We merely found them first. But to the many dead whom laid in these halls, this tomb that they would find... Let them live in fear of what we can do.

An idea was born today. I merely wonder how it would desiminate throughout the crew.

April 11th, 2603
Dragonday

My conference with the Red Mage has achieved some results.

Obviously, she's not telling us everything. That's just *Reasonable.* We don't know her well enough, and we're 'Xenos' to her. Outsiders and useful pawns to her schemes. Cuter then she could have hoped for, but she is carefully investing into us, piece by piece. Wealth does not seem to be shortcoming with her, she's investing enough funding that its clearly including Hush-Funding. 'Retainer Fees' she calls it, but there'd be more then a singular lump sum if that was the truth.

Our first operation together had us attack one of her rivals. Acquiring a magical artifact to further her ambitions: We were well paid in salvage and another lump sump for a reward well done. Oddly enough- the artifact she tasked us for was... a Padlock. For in this world, you need locks to open doors, rather then keys. This sounds utterly ridiculous, but I brought it up with SquirrelWizard and they said it made 'Complete and utter sense'. An 'Inversion of your expectations to keep the gates beyond secure'.

Beyond utter goddamn non-sense. But I'm also bringing back the dead by using magical stones and the fact that I am a walking avatar of war and violence. So opening doors using locks makes sense to me. Maybe you just slam them together.

That's actually kind of funny.

But its clear we're descending into some rabbit holes. Choices are being made, and we're taking sides. As we further our collaboration with the Red Mage, we'll be cleaning more of her dirty laundry up. More of her rivals will become targets. And worse off- She has invited us to be her forward agents in trying out what she calls "Tanhouser Gates". Gates to the other side... A few Claw-Sisters got to get... Intimate, with her. Taking her measurements, and were taught the basics of what would happen going in. Im too wounded, so I cannot take charge. But by her words, we will be going somewhere completely unknown to us. We would have to gather tools, materials and assets from within- to further expand our ability to traverse this place. It is very likely we're walking in naked... Yet it was the next step forward.

And she would be contacting us soon.

Stream is Over!
May you Sauce in Interesting times...

21

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 11, 2024, 12:10:44 am »

March 16th, 2603
Fireday

It has now become clear to us, the face of our enemy.

It began when we received some codes from the church official we beat. Prying him of knowledge and demanding answers, he looked at us with fearful eyes once we stole that key from him. Saying we did not know what we were dealing with. Then he laughed at us, daring us to look into it- that knowledge would consume us and our ambitions would see us burn like moths. I'm fairly certain that he mentioned something about his gods as well, but by that point the brainers and our tribals had their way with him and that's none of my business.

Its what I pay them for.

Instead, I deferred to the FBB and Elder for this one. I was a Professional Mercenary by trade, whilst I could crack this thing- its their job and if I bricked the stick we got from the robes? I was never going to hear the end of it. That was... What. Couple of months ago? What's important is they finally figured out what we were looking at, and where it went to. And what we hold in our hands, is something beyond value.

The codes are for a defensive matrix that revolve around the fourth planet of this solar system: Mars. I'm sure the irony is not lost on anyone that we hold a fourth of those very codes, operating on some rule of four (How pedantic.) This Matrix protects the grand fortress and manse of Cydonia, belonging to being known as the 'Solar Governor'. A being that is only referred to in hushed whispers and Utter reverence. It explains why the church wacko was overwrought- even as little lip as they pay to the Ethereals.

We hold knowledge that is utterly forbidden. Only Humanities privileged elite knows of this individual, and no one has met him in person. Or she. Or... It. Its very likely some kind of Ethereal, considering the Stellar Empire's leadership... Yet, I've heard rumor once that there was something above Ethereal. Old smuggler tales from other captains whilst on shore leave, that they've been haunted by dreams of something... Demonic. Otherworldly. A gentle carress of the mind, that played on their fears and cowed them into line.

Fantasy, surely- for nothing is that psionically strong. It breaks the known laws of the Conchfield effect to be able to manipulate planets from that far away. Yet I cannot help but feel nerves fray and a shiver to run down my spine at the thought of it...

Regardless of how I feel about this, we've discovered Earths critical weakness. Not even the Empress knows this, nor has ever come as close as we are now to having a real chance to take this world. Loyalty to the crown would dictate we talk to Cat of Nine and Shadowcat and inform her of this situation... But I think will keep my cards close to my chest. Not even the crew can know about this. I've ordered my Brainers to keep silence on this, and ensure that No one has access to the files.

Not until its time to make our move.

But there it is. If we decide to stay here: stay the course... embrace destiny. Then everything we must do by this point- Everything that *I* must do, from the weapons we have- the talent I curate... It all must be for the purpose of ensuring a lighting strike. We're not a threat, *Yet*. We're a respected power on earth, but a curiosity at best. We're a new status quo- and despite taking scores of class threes, we will never be able to eliminate any of the factions. Not within our lifespans, and not without cutting off the Ethereals backing. There's simply too many of them, and too much influence.

But if we were to make storm Cydonia and Assassinate the Solar Governor? Then its possible. Considering that from our limited information, he is the lynchpin that holds everything together here? A Coordinated assault from the homeworlds, or agents within major political powers in tandem with the assassination- And we could easily instate a Coup d'état. Backwater as this planet may be, the things we've experienced here: The powers and capabilities of humanity and the investment of resources despite it all... If we take this planet, then everything could change. The Sector. Our faith. The knowledge we could bring back...

But we would only get one shot at this. Failure means that we will be scoured from the surface of the earth. The Peregrine cult would likely go with us and anyone whom ever held Mrrshan sympathies would be next. Likely in Nuclear Hellfire. Also rekindled wars and aggression. Thankfully, we'd all be dead and not have to care.

Quite frankly, The weight and implication of all this terrifies me. Even if we are well over a year off of considering such a feat (Progress on the planning of this will be under OPERATION: TRIPLE A), the fact that by my will alone- I can exalt or doom an entire planet... This is what it means to be a saint, doesn't it? Why I had such a dream? The capability to make such choices. The ambition to seek those heights.

The wheel of fate is turning, and I must be its weaver.

Stream is Over!
May you Sauce in Interesting times...

22

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 09, 2024, 12:16:31 am »

Feburary 1st, 2603
Snakesday

It feels strange to have a surplus after so long. Money flows into the coffers and maintenance is paid for. Salaries are paid out, and I haven't had to liquidate any assets... Instead. I am holding a bag of credits in my hands. Shining like jewels, not that I'm lacking for those either. its... Quite strange to feel as if I am wealthy. Not that I'm complaining, of course. If anything, I wish for more. We're going to need a healthy breadbasket for a war chest, once we've ourselves a capital ship.

For now though, I have pockets set to burst and a lack of problems that need fiscal solutions. I do not lack for weapons, I do not need to expand my infrastructure as of the time. I replace losses we experience in the sky... And Its not as if I can buy mystical powers down at the store. Maybe I could perhaps buy time? A dedicated center for research... Maybe. I will have to sit down and consider my options. Though. Actually. Wait.

Whilst we have not been lacking for the ability to get the practice in- to train and keep in shape for the battles forward (Or Physical therapy when someone has to replace an arm), I've come to realize that we've never had the time or resources to really... Devote ourselves to improving ourselves. There's only so much we can pull from the field. And whilst none of us are lacking for talent, we've had that library for two years, and I think I've barely even touched it. That's been the territory of the Brainers- and maybe our Weed cat.

Perhaps its time to change that.

Calculating the costs, that should be entirely manageable. Set aside a few million for the purposes of training. Consult with those of Jackstown and their ilk to see if we could not get some training manuals and figure out our *Own* way of developing our skills. Maybe consult with Cat of Nine Tails or Shadowcat for special forces training from the empire itself. Perhaps there's even something to confer with, discussing with the Uber strains... The Mutant alliance an age ago also offered us training.

There are options, and there are many of them. But they must be considered later.

We've another confirmed downed craft, and its another big one. Im worry about our attritional rates... I've had to use the last of our stones to bring back our fallen sisters, and we've had too many close calls. We might be burning ourselves out sinking these titan ships. But its the only way to keep our sponsors happy right now. I need to consult with our Herbal cats to peer into the shadow... See if we cannot get more. It is now no longer enough that we cheat death. Now we must find a way to conquer it. But we must survive long enough for that.

Some months ago, a Woman referred to as the 'Red Mage' consulted with us, and connected us with several Wizards, but has not yet returned to discuss with us. Perhaps it is time to seek her out... See what she wanted. And see if she cannot get us what We want.

Stream is Over!
Hey look! A piratey themed Catgirl! Amazing! Also Sauce.
The VOD is here.

Post Mortem
One Foot infront of the Other...

Hired: No One!

Survivors: *COMBAT DATA LATER*

Died: No One!

Revived: No One!

Deus Ex Machinas: 5 Deus Ex Machinas used (198 Total)
Math might not be right here. Im really behind.

The Good - Honestly, im happy we had a slow month? As fun as they can be, shooting down giant ships can be taxing and slow affairs. Also kind of makes it hard to go back to smaller ships. Yeye, suffering from success and all that. But when your prepared for 40+ dudes on a boat at a time... Those can take a hot minute, and popping off some research is good. Which, speaking of- we can talk about Cydonia now, and the win condition. So huzzah to that!

Transformations are finally underway. Swiftpaws and Muscle Cats ahoy. Also with Nepping, I can Hotbox more of my Cats for Damsel training. I do need to figure out where to give out that beauty serum though. Kind of a 'Use it right when we need it' thing...

Also, the Red Mage quest line is started. With some work, I should be able to get my sustained way of getting the miracle stones, given cinderella project is locked off to us. That'll be a worry off my back.

The Bad - Kinda gased out during this stream. Sleeps not been the best about that. Sorry about that. Also, even if I'm arguably ready for it- Turning on the Aurora questline is Always a bad time. Beware, beware. The Ides of Missile Hell. Eridains are also starting up on their bullshit, and whilst the Cat suits did phenomenal work in keeping us alive, it still put most of the crew down for a time... Also. No civilian survivors. The Double Terror also sucked too, having to do them back to back.

The Funny- Finally managed to get some story arcs going. Going from "Not much to write about and its hard to loop in stuff because i dont want to ghost write too far" to "I have started three storylines at once." Fantastic. ALSO WE GOT CHINESE DRAGONS. Haven't gotten one yet, but WE GOT 'EM. THANKS RED CODEX.

Also. Send help. I cant flip my slaves fast enough, and I don't want to give up my Reps. I wanna raid space freighters. 

23

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 04, 2024, 12:04:41 am »

Twas a night before Christmas, all was frost and snow
The planet had celebrated, another bitter year
The president removed, another death game
Turns out Van Damme, could not kick his way to freedom
But amidst revelry and cheer
Agents acting with mischievous glee
Stole the captains instructions with misintent.

Returning to where it began
they warned the wardens, they set the prisoners free
Anyone remained, suffered their fate
Merciful to the ignorant, suffering to the dutiful
Presents were given, in two seperate spots
One to where Captain Miriam met her end
One to where the crew was born
All it took was a timer, and a smile
And then they fled, into the night.

All across the Cali Republic, as they voted between Stallone and Schwarzenegger
Saw a most magnificent cloud, radiant in light and heat
'No effect was faked', this was all apart of the show.
No more bondage of Megapul, nor the Californians
On Christmas day, they would cry of tragedy
But they had succeeded in their mission
After two long years, there was no regret
They had stolen christmas
No one would forget.

======================

2603. The new year has come.

The comet of 2602 was an auspicious one. The times of change. Everyone feared what was soon to come. Picking sides and preparing for what may inevitably be. They moved their pieces on the grand board- solidifying their power. Some powers grew in strength, rising like the stars. Others fell, and soon became naught but dust. Khemri cared naught for whom lived or died- for it served in purpose in struggle and strife.

But there was something different about this year. This Century. Agents of change- A hand just lax enough to loosen on the reigns of power. Challengers to power were stiring.

It started with a shipwreck, a ragtag group of raiders that fell from the stars. Caught in Prison- and led in an exodus to destiny. The first domino to fall. No one should have known or cared- they should have died and the planet indifferent to their plight. But they survived, and thrived. Regardless of what their fate may be, the world would be irrevocably changed.

The Nekomimi had their eyes affixed on this planet. Challengers to the ever patient ninjas had forced them to move. The enemy beyond- knowing that their grand design was threatened by pretenders to humanities throne. The Depth Dwellers... mostly the same as they had ever been. And the Star Gods themselves- slowly learning of the insurrection from within.

A backwater planet was becoming the crux of history. A seminal moment of history to be reclaimed. The tactical consideration for others. Regardless of their reasons, the planet would be caught once more in the flames of war by those whom wished for change.

2062 was the Year of change. But 2063 would be the year of war. For all were waking up, realizing the Times would soon test them. The grand question that was soon to come: Whom would survive the changing times? And whom would be the corpses that paved the way for their success?

One can only hope that they prepared Enough.

Stream is Over!
A Fond Farewell to 2602, and a New Beginning for 2603...

24

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: May 02, 2024, 12:04:15 am »

Capdorks L00000g #11

3 of dec
bloooooooooom

As I write this, I just want to note that I am on copious amount of drugs. If I sound delusional, that is because Opiates are a hell of a drug and the herbalists gave me some funny flower that makes me feel tingly. I am actually doing really wonderful. I don't even feel the giant hole in me. Or the burn scars raked across my left flank. They are allowing me one arm to write with.

That's super dumb. Something about agitating my wounds. I'll agitate their wounds.

Got'em.

But. Yes. Conflict. How I got my lovely scars is that, whilst i have not gone through the combat reports because I'm not allowed to work right now- we have encountered rimrider forces. Paramilitary types that should be our allies- rendered as our enemies by circumstance. They're getting through the holes we're leaving in the skies, because we're shooting all the dumb ships down with our cool star ship. It works out for us, because they're got high tech stuff that doesn't require ID's for. Which is super cool.

Oh, and we ran into traitor cats too. We got a good job for taking in some of the traitor cats- which. I placed in the Spartan cells. They're going to have a lot of fun beating them up and making them mewl. I got a gold star from the Shadow Cats. Mine even has a smiley face on it.

Its cute, with a pink little ears.

So we ran into Rimriders, and this will not be the first time. As we continue to thin air coverage and replace it with our own, more of these types are gonna slip in. I'm also worried about the escalation of nasty stuff that will result, given we've been using the pew pew ship. They know we have it- they know we're packing it. Its been blazing across earth for the better part of a year now. Actually, for a year?

Its almost new years soon. We've been here for two years. We tried to steal Christmas two years ago. I feel oddly nostaglic now, and really sad. I don't know why. We couldn't save the captain, No bodies so no voodoo- and she was gone ages ago. Maybe I enjoyed how simple things were back then. Maybe its phantom pain for a life we wont get back, where there was so much less rules.

Note to self: Get a Nuke and blow up prison Facility. For old times sake. (No, no. Do not do this. This is a bad idea.)

Oh, oh yeah! I got a letter from my cherry penpal! She's really wordy. But she loves us a lot- and sends us cherries. I dont like cherries too much, but it smells nice. Its really forboding though, and

I am fine and everything is fine also i am smelly and dumb and wont let me beat up the Neko-runts

As I Lie in bed, i have come up with a brilliant idea. We never did steal Christmas, but we are doing super well. So what if we brought Christmas to the base, as a power flex? Yeah. I'll give out that as an order! It wont go wrong this time, not at all! I'm gonna hit the button on my bed right now and gonna tell people we're stealing Christmas again! Then we'll celebrate it!

We're gonna do it Miriam! We're gonna steal christmas for you!


===Audio Transmission Intercepted===
-Point of Origin, Unknown
-Recorded Date, Unknown
-Faction, Unknown
Playback? [Y]

They are becoming an increasing threat, Sir. Do you suspect they know about us?

No. Not yet. They are flailing about. Lashing out at what they can reach. But at the pace they are going at, it will not be long before they find out about us. They already know of our garrison troops on planet... The Factions have been petitioning for Martial law. The guild and the academy have been slowly losing their clout over Terra, It will not be long for MarSec will return to judicate in force. Barring them, if they should fail to reinforce the power of the factions...

...The Ethereals will return. Are we strong enough now to-

Not yet. But they are not returning to Terra for us. If we are clever, we can redirect these fools against them. These Xenos shall be equal parts our shield, and our sword. Serving the whole of humanity before they are sacrificed. We must merely keep them distracted- fighting against our common enemy. We must buy ourselves time, so that we may call the leader from the realm of shadow.

Y-yes. Of course. You are right, as always. Shall i send out agitators?

Wait a bit longer. Send out feelers, and subtly introduce that the Mrrshan have been staging troops. That they are moving beyond just the Peregrine cult. Inform them that Jasana has taken a... Personal interest in Terra now.

Its not so far removed from the truth, is it now?

No, I suppose its not...

Stream is Off!
Christmas Sauce, for the IG December Month!

25

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 26, 2024, 11:45:44 pm »

November 1st, 2602
Dragonday

In the war between the Ethereals and the Mrrshan, The stars have always belonged to the Later.

In terms of power, The Ethereals dominate. Their awesome control over Psionics, diverse portfolio of troops and mythical technologies have always bested the Mrrshan. With utter mastery of the Biological and harnessing the power of Elerium- their territory stretches over many sectors of the galaxy. But they have always been a rigid caste society. No lust to dream, nor desire to create. If it worked, so shall it be.

And thus, despite their overwhelming power- The Stars belonged to the Mrrshan.

Dancing, fluttering across the void- glittering like the stars, The Mrrshan have maintained their independence by the strength of their warrior traditions, and their starships. Even amongst peers, they were known to be the finest of pilots. Hundreds of fighters secure their space onboard massive carriers- a position coveted enough to hold rivalries and prove ones skill though increasingly daring deeds.

A traditional that is felt in her people today. Even within the humble domain of starlight, even possessing just One Claw from the empire- has proven to be the bane of Earths domestic fleet. Not /that/ hard of a challenge, of course- they've yet to pull out any True vessels worthy of combat. But hearts rose as the reports came in from last months kill board.

Science Ship. Heavy Freighter. Twelve fighters. Science Ship.

Some of the heaviest ships for tonnage on earths surface. Class 3 and 4 ships, under the Imperial Designation. Worthy kills to any Starfighters legacy. For too long, the crew balked under there merely being 'one' starfighter. That they had to share- and that by the deigning of the captain and assignment, that the crew watched as one was chosen for glory. But such was no more.

Air bases, fighter frames and weapons were being authorized and installed onto said frames. The secrets of flight- to reclaim the stars and retake what was their rightful demesne, was becoming theirs again. More flight missions were being authorized- more pilots were needed and the battle to claim those skies were starting in full earnest. The Handicap wasn't even a dreadful fact, those being assigned 'inferior' ships. If anything, it merely only increased the prestige. For after all, one could easily kill with a marvel of engineering- that was easy.

But how glorious would it be, to be given equipment was only 'adequate', and still claim the skies? A true showing of ones skill. That they could be trusted with more expensive equipment- and expect nothing but elite performance.

So strong this cultural ideal- that these claw-sisters sign up for air duty, despite the danger. To be truly recognized as warriors: for after all, were they not a new warrior house? Did not nobility in such a way demand a battleship, adorned with a battalion of pilots? Could they not be the first, and made knights of the sky- and their status elevated in such a way, that their descendants became synonymous with the glory of starlight? To carve their own piece of the empire- and territory? To retire, watching their children inherit their vessels?

Not all of them would make it back. But enough could, that the dream would ignite. The dream burned in their hearts. Surely the Ethereals would notice them, decimating their fleets. They would certainly retaliate, and challenge their supremacy.

Good. They wanted a challenge.

The Dancer would chuckle quietly, watching as youthful kittens flocked to the boards- fawning over the assignments yet to be. Exaggerating their glories- and asking to be transferred to the new locations. Air Base 'Coffee' was the first base. Expected time until Operation: Three months. That was three months they could have been chosen. Three months to prepare.

She remembered her past. Her history in the Airforce. She did not speak of it in grand detail, nor did she emphasize her role. It was merely a fond memory, a time once served chance to race across the interstellar void. Across Atmospheres, blazing into targets whom challenged her. It was neither glory, nor gold that emblazoned her heart in those pitched battles. It was the feeling of freedom. The Feeling of exercising her talents: Her skills. Nowhere else, did she feel so free. As if her kind was born without one last vital aspect to compliment their tails and ears; Wings.

She was retired, at least in an official capacity. For the journey had to take her elsewhere. But she always found such youth charming. Adorable, even. Perhaps she would tease them, ensure that they were up to snuff. After all, if they were to follow in her wake- they must be up to snuff. The way of the Claw is unforgiving, and one must have the vigor's and stamina to endure- even after extensive battle. If her doctrine of trounce was to survive- they couldn't be anything less then the best. And now that they were stepping out from shadow, onto light...

Sayuri would smile to herself. Yes, that would be rather fun, wouldn't it?

Stream is Over!
Into the Danger Zone, Your Sauce is.
After a thousand years. Heres your VOD


Post Mortem
MY GOD IT HAPPENED.

Hired: Nekogirl2K (B-1 K-1) Affeboll (B-1, K-5), Fry_Guy0 (Newly Hired!) Paevyn (B-3, K-7)

Survivors: Gwynevere Bennett (Way of Missed Strike, B-98 K-332, Zephyr1124 (B-108, K-300), Fleur Vert (B-74, K-156, D-1)  Gentlefood (Way of Shadow, B-105, K-229), Kiest (B-81, K-177), Xeoposer (B-101, K-348), Roughguy (B-33, K-46, D-1) Isdar (B-77, K-167), Kaminyan The Blender Cat (Way of Death, B-81, K-268), Tarmph (B-108, K-290), Mittens Leadpaw (B-70, K-131), Catvy (Way of Shadow, B-106, K-223), DoctorRex (B-77, K-127), ArdriKrios (B-92, K-244), NinjaZombie0 (B-64, K-152), SquirrelWizard (Way of Sunlight, B-108, K-131), Mjolko (B-83, K-134), Talemgrandmaster (B-84, K-164) Shirajirajin (B-72, K-99), Slegex (B-82, K-149), Violeta Kellide (Way of Shadow, B-110, K-257), NictisOfTheMafia (B-81 K-145), Wabbon (B-65, K-159), Sayuri (Way of Claw, B-78, K-152),  CGP (B-48, K-79) Krickraken (B-70, K-113) Curechan9 II (B-31, K-39), Rovlemhage (B-48, K-83), Psyentific1 (B-66, K-126, D-1), DJ Grom (B-40, K-58), Scotty297 (B-47, K-56),  Atusid (B-42, K-95, D-1) GigaShogg (B-28, K-40), Kildarienhyton (B-30, K-47, D-1), VintageMedic (B-43, K-55), Xika (B-16, K-22, D-1), Das_Bystander III (B-13 K-17), Warzy2 II (K-14, B-17), Anerisa (B-11, K-8) UltraShogg (B-6, K-8)

Died: No One!

Revived: "Ian, your late on adding this tab. But when it is noted/relevant/when I update the previous Posts (Which i swear I am doing), this will be used!

Deus Ex Machinas: 6 Deus Ex Machinas used (175 Total)
Math might not be right here. Im really behind.

The Good - The Tend of cementing our air game is continuting. Having to write these well after the fact (Which is going to make previous Posts sound weird), we have been working on getting air game nice and solid. Truth be told, I think the Claw is a bit too good for how early you get it in Cat Path. Having decent funding makes its exotic fuel not so expensive, and its not like you cant flip a ship for it. Might want to consider a 'Battery' or 'Mid-Line' ship for mid game.

But yeah. Im dropping big freight- and we even raided a Rimriders outpost pretty immediately. Cats are getting stronk enough to handle that, and given we just ploughed through them, we have some *Really* High tech toys. The first and only real plasma guns we're going to get this run, short of Plasma Pistol/Sub Plasma. The Extra Hardware is just nice, and might let us pivot into fighting Mercenaries sooner, rather then later. Just need to have a Reliable AT Option, and...

The Bad - Not really much bad to say. Rimriders hurt, the fact the Quarians spawned underneath us and got to do some inital mind control sucked *Hard*, but otherwise- we did suprisingly well there. Also the fact that Traitor Cats dont give us Arts of Trounce. Booooo.

Arguably, Research is slowing down- but its more accurate to say we're hitting the hump researches. It just takes time. Piratez was never a fast affair.

The Funny- Cultural Videos and Missiles go boom. Also, remember Hallucingentic Grenades, Ian.

26

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 25, 2024, 12:28:26 am »

August 4th, 2601
Doomed Farm

Knee deep in the dead.

Roush was loading in another magazine as she put a burst down range. Having an underslung rifle was a... strange concept to her. But she wouldn't question it. Humans were weird, and the weapon was plenty lethal. Besides, she was waiting for the right moment to fire a grenade launcher. Maybe she would just to have fun...

No. She had to wait. They were in limited supply, and the Capnyan didn't want to waste the limited supply they had. Booo. So instead she'd rack the bolt- and put more shots down range.

If nothing else, these men were possessed of a fervor unknown to even the Spartans. She did not know if that was more or less terrifying- but she did know that was equally worthy of death.

Another burst- two shot connecting as she ruptured a shoulder. The blast of a shotgun would finish him off as she'd pout, looking towards the killer. Some brown haired cat she didn't recognize. She'd mewl sharply in her direction- motioning to her with two fingers. "Hey, stop dealing my kills!"

Grumble grumble. How was she going to impress people with that?

Striding forward with a careful gait, she'd hit the wall of a shed with her shoulder- taking cover as she took a breather. A fellow black cat joined her- their respiration a chorus in the charged air of the night.

"Hey, Roush- do you got a spare magazine?" Roush would check her belt- before nodding and handing over the curved magazine. "Yeah. Here. Your lucky that we share Ammo." "Or maybe the Capnyan is giving all of us black cats, black rifles?" They'd share a laugh- shaking their heads, before leaning forward.

"Maybe... But speaking of black cats, do you know where Kaminyan is? I haven't seen her for a bit..." She'd lean out, putting another burst into a target. This one, was actually hers. Oh good, she could put a notch onto her rifle. "Or how about everyone else? The Claw-Sergeant still alive?" Order broke down awhile ago. Coordination was local, and provincial. And she knew that their sister-Cat was one to go wild out in the field. Didn't want to shoot her.

"Don't know, but I think two of us are down! The enemy is using dragons breath rounds, and they just don't die!"

Roush would look back to her claw-sister, before rolling her eyes. "Just shoot them more! Watch!" She'd then lean out, but held fire. Well, she would have. But she held her fire. She got her answer alright- watching as a black blur streaked through the night, descending upon the men with wild, reckless abandon. Giggling, laughing. Bloodlust in the eye.

It would be downright inspiring, if she wasn't staggering. Clearly at her limits- she'd trundle towards the next man, swinging weakly. Leaving herself a target.

Shiiiiiit. She couldn't risk firing into melee, there stood a good chance that she would hit her. So instead, her hand fell to her belt- opening up a pouch. Their alcohol ration- time to test the strength of the glass on this. If she could angle it right, she could get it right near her... And so she broke cover, angling the bottle over her head as she Chucked that thing with all the strength due to her. The Bottle spinning like a throwing star in the sky- the glint of light of nearby, showed her where she hit.

Right on the head of the man, and nearby to Kaminyan. Direct shot. That would be a story to share for later, as pride crept across her face. But there was always a saying.

It goeth before a fall.

Turning around, caught out- and her claw-sister failing to cover her, a man wore witness to her action. Left exposed, she'd level his shotgun upon her. Before she was any the wiser, the sensation of burning caught her. her senses left her- as pain racked her body. Pellets rendered her nothing more then a lump of meat, igniting within her body as her Kevlar tried to stop the impact in vain. Her mind screamed at her to stop the source of the fire- but she lost strength before even the third shell was fired. Her terror echoed throughout the field, but she would not hear her own words.

If there was any solace, she was spared a painful death. It was merciful even- for it to be so sudden. She did not have to live to be rendered into tallow.

She just merely ended. And that was it.

===

Emptiness in sensation. A world composed of nothing but gray. A sensation of falling through an endless sea. Where there should of been cold, there was only weight. Down, down into the depth we plunge, into the abyss that one belonged.

No longer the taste of brimstone on the tongue, the sensation of burning to kiss the flesh. Pain ebbed away, retreating from the lips to the surface unforeseen. Perhaps to never reach its destination. Ever tempting it was to close ones eyes. To let finality of strength leave from the tips of the fingers. To allow oneself to find rest, that brief touch of oblivion to subsume the hole of whom one was.

The drifter scanned her eyes- head turning but so slightly, as any movement in excess drained what limited strength she could still muster. Looking for any anchor in the abyss- to ground and stabilize herself, what she would find itself, is that she had not become unlike rain.

Thousands of bodies- draining of color as they fell inward. Men and women- Even foreigners... and Nekomimi, not unlike herself. All whom had past that Ethereal gate, and were being escorted to their final rest. Rarely did they move. Many were cradled, or otherwise still as they fell- as if they carried no strength with them to beyond.

Those still conscious, could only lament their final fate. A life cut short. A quest left unfinished. One more task to be done. Was that to be her own fate? To join the screamers, and the dreamers? Perhaps that choice was made for her, as soon she felt herself land upon something both soft- and formless. A Feeling of comfort, but in what remained of her soul, a violent impulse of survival Fight or flight, desiring both.

Hands grasped at her- but they held no sway. The struggle was not in fighting them, they only meant to steal what they could not have. It was to summon the will to fight once more, and she had not come here to die in such a way. Ripping herself from the binding mass of whom was to be her companions- Biting, clawing, ripping her body free- she'd ascended to her feet- rising above those below her.

Her eyes would see nothing more then a vast expanse. Not unlike if she was on a planet, a sphere. With bodies that attempted to defy their fate, not unlike her. Yet they would eventually be dragged back into the mire. Dragged back into the whole. Like a star burning out the last of its light- never to be ignited again. Even now, she could feel fingers dig at her feet- grasping for her ankles.

They did not wish for her to leave. They would not let her leave. There was no escape, in the end.

Ripping her feet from the mire- she'd try to jump try to reach out her hand. Maybe she could swim. Maybe she could buy herself time. Perhaps she was to burn out like the others, but it would be in utter defiance. And so she would walk, circling this sphere. Always on the verge of collapse, but never reaching that final threshold.

An eternity of walking. Animated by a will that never yielded.

A feminine giggle would follow, as her ears perked. Her eyes would dart around as she clutched her hands- bereft of claws, but instinct gave them shape. This was different. This was new. This was terrifying. And yet she stood her ground- for all the danger that provided. She would not relent from this hunter: they would have to take their due from her.

Yet instead, it only whispered in her ear. A promise, a seductive lure.

"Have you not yet had your fill? Do you still hunger for more?"

Oppressive weight fell upon her, as if it was the last defense. To try and deny this woman her prize. Her very being simply became a law of weight. Pulling her down. Down. Down. As if the natural order was fighting against her. As if something was wrong here. Yet she could still speak. "If it gets me out of here, I /do/. I wish for /more/."

"Good. Then take my hand." Flesh would descend upon her- as a giant had reached for her. She would waste no time in clutching it. All she had to do, was wrap her arms around- and trust this being. It was all she could do at this point.

"Remember that it was love that has brought you back... Consume this love, and bring this world closer to the edge of ruin. Become beautiful- for one day you shall return this love when you are consumed..."

Color would return to her body. Sensation would return to her body. Warmth returned to her body. The sound of rushing water flowed past her ears, not unlike billowing past wind. Leaving the fallen behind... leaving this sunless sea.
===

Her body felt weak. As if one had slept for an eon and only been awaken now. Acrid respect for the dead was the taste upon her tongue and the very scent she carried; Formaldehyde. Yet no Nausea followed- It was as if the body simply sweated out the poison. As if the body was a finely tuned machine that simply had been powered down for some purpose- and now once reconnected to mortality, the organs had activated without her.

The heart beat once again. The mind flourished with intrigue and consciousness. The limbic system, despite its discontinued use, rippled with the desire to be used. The sensation of power with the expression of power and muscularity. The nerves didn't even fire back in pain, instead only reaffirming the souls claim over the vessel it was given. And worst of all?

She was hungry. Starving. A carnal desire for fatty meats and sharp tasting fruits. Of drinks to burn a newly virgin throat and indulge of all things sweet. A lust for something salty, and finish with the finest of indulgences that may befit the fancy. The body had spent what energy it had to breathe life into itself again- and now it needed more. To be all consuming. In all capacities: it wished for More.

Sound was still a strange sensation to her- as if having been pulled from the ocean, there was still water clogging her ears. She heard something about... Proving someone wrong? Rubbing it in her face? And something about Mayonnaise? Nonsense to her. Instead, Roush would try to push herself up. Feeling around what felt like stone. An echoing rumble could be felt in her throat, as the limbs protested.

She wasn't back yet. But others took notice.

What sounded like bootsteps would echo over- sharp and distinctive on metalwork. Then the sound of voices- and blinding light. A sharp, grunting pain would echo- before a feeling of weightlessness. Ascension. Braced against... something. To keep her aloft. Then a question.

"Roush. How are you feeling?" To her left, the sound of a Nurse. A ginger cat, clearly with more care then skill in the field. Though Bedside manner was no skill to be neglected either. Her hand was taken, as her fingers were stretched out. Flayed and handled with doting care. Stiff, and imprecise- a sensation of pain. An instrument that had yet to be finely tuned again.

"Mmmh. Well, i'll never get married now." She'd huff with a sardonic tone. A bit of black humor, having cheated death. The Ginger cat- perhaps self-conscious, would hop back with a flail of her arms, letting the board that could charitably be called an arm hit the stonework- a sharp squeak.

"i-im sorry! I-i was just checking for Rigor Mortis! I-i didn't mean to-!"

"Hold on. Rigor Mortis?" An uncomfortable tingle would crawl up the spine. The core of her being recoiling at what could possibly be- the dream of which she was in dying throughs. Nearly taken in by the graveyard of many. As if willing her fingers to flex, they would on command- before looking back up. "Im /Alive/, arent I? Im clearly not dead." Her tone was flat. Blunt.

"You were dead! It was something the Witch and the Native did you! Did to everyone in this room!"

Hold on, everyone? Her eyes would glaze over... The room itself was horrifying in its own right. A Ritual room, comprised of strange symbols misunderstood. A section of the Medical bay, converted into... some kind of offering room? Her exposed stomach had a stone that had rolled down and caught on it- spent of its energy and dull in color. She'd move to pick up the oddly phalic shaped rock, before claiming it for herself... Observing the room, there was four more besides herself. All adorned with this stone. Fluer, she recognized. But not some of the others...

A question crossed roush's mind. An important one. If she was dead, then how long had it been? A few hours? days? Looking to her hand and the stone she clutched- she'd snap her attention to the ginger nurse, and made the demand known. "What day is it?"

"It's... September 18th. Its Shaday."

Only a month then? She remembered her mission in August. Then it had not been that long at all-

"Your record states that you nearly died a year ago. Its... 2602. You died in 01. You've been preserved until now, so that you could be shot out into the sun. Its a miracle that we had such traditions- or else you wouldn't be here right now...!"

Nearly a year? A whole year? Then the nature of her death... She'd reach for her body- feeling for imperfections. Burns, she felt herself immolate and die- her body a living pyre as she was hit with Magnesium... And yet there was nothing. Perhaps to the Chagrin of the watching nurse- watching a patient feel herself, but there was no scar. There was no wound. If anything, her skin was as smooth as the day she was born.

How much had changed? Were they any closer to getting off the planet? Did they finally get their hands on some lasers? Those were answers that she would not get here. Aiming to slide off the Pedestal, the Ginger nurse would quickly spring forth- aiming to catch her by the shoulders.

"N-no! You need to stay here, you need to go through physical therapy! There's no way your field for field duty!"

"All I need is a gun and to get back out there- That or punching the Capnyans face. Or Kami's for being an idiot and overextending so far-" Even if she had saved her life, it wouldn't have needed saving if she hadn't been so foolish. But protest as she might have- the Nurse was overpowering her. And if she was able to do so, then there was no way she'd survive right now. So with a disgruntled sigh, she'd wave off the nurse.

"Fine, I'll stay. When do we begin?"

"Uhm... given that your capable of motion and /seem/ fine... Uh... Tomorrow?"

Tomorrow was good. She actually had a Tomorrow.

Maybe more, depending. Each day was a gift now. To be consumed whole.

Stream is over!
Suprise, a sauce! And yes, she's actually a Cat! Thanks FF11 for square nosed Cats!

Post Mortem
The logs get longer, but the Mortem doesnt get done...

27

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 20, 2024, 01:02:53 am »

? of  ?
Č̶̝͕̺̫̩͍̫͍̰̠̇̚o̷̱̫͔̓̄̍͂n̷̝̦̯̓̂͒̓͐͊͆̂̕͠s̴̡̧̨͙͙̟̦͎͔̬͙̲̪̻̼̓͐̈́̌̈́͘͝u̸̥̜̥͈͕̇̽́m̷͕̹̘̱̭̼̙̬͙̞̗̈́̓̌̃̀̔̈̀̈́̉̎͘ê̸̛̜̪͍͇̎̂͐̏͝ ̶̡̹͉̯̠̰̙̣̭̝͆̓̈́̎̊́̃̈̾ţ̴̼̏͌̈́͛̆͛ḩ̵̱̘͓̮̳͓̈́̄͠͝į̶͓̖̞̼̈́̄͊̓͊̈́̔̇̂͗͛̉ŝ̴̺̼̹̋ ̵̦͝w̵̨̩̩̼̹̜̮̖̯͕̔̈́͌̽͆͋̌͐̌̐̐ͅȍ̴̤̤͉̭͇̩̲̽̃̓͋̔̈́ŗ̶̧̨̧̣̤̟̗͖̈́̐͂̈͛̋̔̑̐̓̇̌͂ļ̵̲̠̘̙͉̔̓d̶̟̼̘͎̩̞̫͙́̔̈́̿̎̎̀͋̕͝͝͝,̸͓̤̗̩̠͛͆̒̾͋̀̄͘͝ͅ ̴̖̖͈̯̪̱͙͇͍͖͖̯̀̒͑̌̏̀͌́̓̈́͝a̴̛̝̼̦̻̭͇̖̻̩̰̳̤̜͑͋͐̽̔͐͜͝ͅn̵̡̧̝̲̖̣̱̓̎͌͗̋̓̏d̶̨̛͈́̀̈́͒̄͌͋̋̏̔̀̾͝ ̶̼̩͚͇̙̺̜̖̜̋͌̉̀̆̏͑̆̍̆̚͝͠͝b̵̢͚̳͈̺̜͚̝̺̼͉̟̫̯̽̊͌͗́ͅe̵̡̠̲̱̺̔̓̍ ̵̨̛̻̲̬͐̀̊̎̈́͆͒̓̉̀c̵̨̫̃͐̉̊͐̿̌̌̈̚o̵̢͉͇̻͇̗̔̏͂n̸͚̟̖͇͗͂̒̒͒̓̆̆͛ś̵̨̡͇̪͚͈̺̞̖̯̪̆̔̀͋̀͆͂̚͠u̷͉̬͎͂̓̂̅̄͌͒͑͂̊͑͝͝͝ͅm̸͇̜̟͚̺̙̈̎́̇͠ę̴͙̝̤̖͕̔ḏ̶̢̨̡̯̹̠̥̖̞͈̘͍͎̒̃̌.̴̪̜͙̩̙̳̤͔̜̖̬̚


They Fall like rain.

Corpses sinking into the ethereal sea. Echoing pulses across the rippling tide of the conchfield. Falling on top of each other, as they turn to gray. Souls from all walks of life- Forming the great graveyard that is Terra. For all of what the star gods took from humanity- For as much as the course of human history had been irevokably changed from their conquest, they could not take this.

What they could not take, they instead despoiled. This Graveyard turned legion- as billions of souls still were fading away. Six Hundred years without final rest, without respite. Grasping, clawing. A psychic echo that would not stop screaming. A song that could not be silenced. Beyond this veil, was the pain of countless souls. Emotion so strong, that it could pierce the veil, and bleed into the world of the living. To reach for the living, so that they may yet stave off this fate.

Yet how can one understand what lies beyond the point of no return, whilst having yet to cross it?

That she could see this- was proof that Terra had accepted her. That one day, when she would cross that threshold, she would join this graveyard of the dead. No longer merely a visitor of the land, but rather a soul that belonged to this realm of billions. But today was not that day- Life would not leave the Black Cats body, The Baron would not have his due. No, she was brought here for a different purpose. A feminine giggle to echo through the rippling sea- her eyes would dart to where it could have possibly come from. From every angle, from every way it could come...

Nothing. Just a lingering expectation... and the scent of ripe cherries.

Instead, her eyes would look upon the great ball once more. The taste of sulfur danced upon her tongue- and her body felt as if would catch ablaze. The sensation was overwhelming- threatening to strike at her senses... but she was tougher then that. Stronger then that. Instead, it conjured memories. Memories that were an age ago, yet still were remembered with the veracity of a scar that never healed. That of another black cat. That of a sister in arms, whom gave her life- for her own.

Unending rage. Fury. Emotion swelled in her heart, as she reached out. Desperate to make amends. Desperate to bring her back- But strength alone could not change her fate. Guilt instead would be the prize- as something slipped from her hand. Flailing to grasp at it, she'd catch it right between her claws. A stone, of a strange shape. Engraved with beautiful symbiology- the duality of the masculine and feminine... These were stones they got from the hunters. Dawning realization crossed her features, as warmth coursed through her hand. Prana.

She couldn't do anything here... But if she could awaken. If she could get access to this stone again... Maybe.

Maybe she could reverse the whims of fate. Maybe she could bring her back. Bring them all back.

Third of September
Bloomsday

I was writing in my book when my door was violently assaulted by a hand. I should have heard the sound of boots on the ground, but with a busy base and many hands flowing through the corridors, that is a luxury that had faded a long time ago. Apparently, My Honor guard was nowhere to be found at the door too. That, or maybe this was pressing enough that whomever it was, wasn't being bothered to stop. Very well, with a flick of the button and a sharp hiss, I would grant the intruder an invitation.

"Come in. You dont need to pound my door."

Surging forth, Kaminyan would slam her hands on my desk- The passions clearly worn on her face like a veil. The force exerted was enough to echo impact throughout the room. Her haired was frazzled and her scars were visible- she clearly cared not for her appearance any more then the tribal bones and straps she cared for. Even as ebony black as she was- I could tell she was exhausted: Running on emotions rather then energy. Yet she still commanded enough force to make me jump in my seat- Her voice did not lack for that strength either.

"Capnyan, I've seen it-! I saw them!" She was half practically yelling. Her ears flicked like daggers and her tail the conduit for motion that could not be contained in the body. Her hands gripped as if squeezing blood from a stone. It had... Had she taken her usual 'meditations' before coming here? I'd rise my hands, trying to ease her.

"Who? Who did you see? Take a breath Kami, Your going to get nowhere with this-"

"Our Claw Sisters! I saw the Atusid, Fleur... Roush! I saw them all!" She doesn't wait to let me finish. Elation crosses her voice, as if in her mind she saw friends long past once more. But that's impossible... Or maybe it wasn't. Her head lowering as if to give the dead respect- it soon would flick back up to look me in the eyes. An expectation- a hunger. Something has taken hold of her, as soon she states the ridiculous. "Capnyan, I know where they are! I can bring them back!"

I blink incredulously. I have to fight the urge immediately to reprimand her for this prank- or to order our 'Master of Catweed' to cut off her supply, until she recovered. But I entertain the notion, as I shake my head with a sigh. "Kami... The dead don't come back. I know that you miss Roush. We Both miss our sisters dearly, but-"

Again. She doesn't wait. Instead, she merely assaults my desk again- as if Im the one in the wrong. As if she was dictating terms and delivering punishment. "I CAN!" Her voice cracks, like a singular cut into glass. Her eyes betray somberness that has to be choked down. For the fiercest of warriors often have the softest of hearts- something that can be ill afforded on the field of battle. And in this case, I am her foe. But she would continue to speak- a light rumble to her cadence. "I just need those stones we're stockpiling- and brainers, and a room! Somewhere where I can have some space to-!"

"You want an entire section of the base, a portion of our staff and stone we don't fully understand- so you can practice Witchcraft to cheating the reaper?" My tone grew dry- and incredulous. My temperance had limits- and whilst she was damn good warrior... I wasn't going to bend to her will. A dangerous stance to take, for someone clearly overwrought.

"Its NOT witchcraft!" A flash of anger, driven by those passions cross her face. Our eyes meet in a duel of prides. Thank the Empress that we are in private conferance- We are leaving ourselves no way of saving face in a public space. Hells, there was likely listeners at the door from how loud Kaminyan is being. "Trust me Capnyan- don't you want to see them again?!"

She's not wrong. But we have to live in the here and now. I had to accept these realities an age ago, when I took command. And it is not her place to judicate to me how she handles her grief. To her words, I return a quiet growl. "Yes. I would. But the dead are dead, and I am not commiting what limited resources we have to a flight of fancy, that you may process your grief!" Poor choice of words, admittedly- but her energy was... overwhelming. I had to reassert control, even if it was in an antagonists role.

Im met with a growl- as she withdrew her hands. The first battle was that of words. The second was of pride. A stand off. Clenched hands soon bending- claws visible in light. She's sizing me up, and if I do not do the same, I will be seen as weak. There Will be a fight. So I slowly rise from my seat- joining her in this battle of wills. My own hand to match hers in the shape of a battle claw.

She's about as big as I am- A testament to her survival on this planet, and her freakish nature as a Nekomimi. Scars mark her body, both fresh and old- I know her skill with arms and that one mistake could cost me. I know if she came here to fight, she has put herself into the headspace of a battlefield that she often does to deal with the stress... Leaving my only options to restrain her, or drop her. But that in itself is a weakness to be exploited. She's fatigued, and acting on impulse and emotion. I know her way of trounce- Mine is made to counter hers.

And above all, I'm growing my strength as a Saint. I can win this, should it come to it.

Would there be space, we would circle each other. A clear stand off. WE don't want to make the first move- but it is clear that we wish for opposite things. This is not a glorious fight, it is a tragedy- and someone would be reduced for it. But such was the will of warriors- To see ones dream fulfilled, one had to suffer theirs not to. Perhaps our passions drove us so fiercely, that someone else would enter the room. The encroaching smell of Weed to fill my room- making my nose wrinkle and my senses violated- Kaminyan flinching as this was strong. Even for them.

Squirrelwizard would come in, calm and composed. A hand to her mouth to nurse a pipe that seemed to billow out smoke. Where two were not unlike fire, she was like a gentle... Strongly scented breeze. A light hum to her cadence, she'd hold up her other hand and speak. "Capnyan, Kaminyan. Calm yourselves- You might get hurt. That would be rather silly, wouldn't it?"

I would breathe in to address them, but their hand would raise again, clearing their voice. "I know what is going on. I... Have seen it as well. The seriousness of this situation..." A breath. A ring of smoke to follow. A sastified smile from the serenity of their indulgence. "I understand your intentions. You speak with the burden of a crown... And you, speak with the burden of guilt." That alone should have provoked a fight. I see Kaminyan's eye twitch, as if challenging her fight or flight response. They already didn't get along the best, so this was not helping. But they would speak, somehow to serenade the beast that flared in her heart. "Capnyan... I can give credence to her words. It Is possible."

"See, I told you-!"

"But you cannot do it alone." The Herbalist would step forward, as if to join us- eyeing us both. "...Yet, we cannot simply devote so much to this- that this may take months... years even..." Another wiff of her pipe, before exhaling sharply. "...There must be a compromise. Capnyan, may I speak?"

I would nod. She may.

"I understand my relationship with her is strained... But I would ask you to trust me. I will share my room with her, and we will work on this project together. In return, grant us access to the Sivalinga Stones. Either we will succeed... or we will not." But I knew her track record. The tone suggested that there was no one better qualified for this. Once more, my authority is challenged- but this one is undercut with kindness. With Politeness. And... She wasn't wrong. Out of anyone, she was the best qualified to oversee this project. There was also enough wisdom to put aside grievances, to see this project through.

After all, there was only one of us whom saw the other side.

Looking over to Kamivax, seemingly draining of energy, I'd breathe in the misty airs- before nodding. "Fine. Granted. I will grant you two, to accomidate for mistakes. But no more."

"That is sufficient for our purposes." A smile crept on the Herbalists face, content with the compromise- before nodding to Kaminyan. "Then when you are rested, come to my room. We will delve into your mystery together... This is rather exciting." Her tail flicked contently- before she would move to stride out of the room. "And much more productive then those incident with the runts in the vents..."

Dont remind us. Looking to Kaminyan- now that the tension had died... Where there was a clash of ideals. Now it had turned to understanding, and a silent apology. For what it was worth, that was a sentiment shared by two. It was not as if I wished to deny her out of pragmatism, or cruel hearted desire. It was simply clashing realities. I motion for her to take a seat, so that she may take a break- and rest her head. Wordlessly, she'd collapse into the seat... and was out like a light.

Understandable, Really. I follow suit- if only to continue writing my papers.

Stream is Over!
This might be too saucy. Please, notify me immediately if it is. I'll happily change it. It felt fitting, but I do NOT want to try the mods.

Post Mortem
Hum de dum dum...

[Spoiler]

28

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 20, 2024, 12:50:12 am »

When an enemy sees one of your catgirls, she becomes spotted (= valid target for out-of-LoS snipers) for a number of turns equal to that enemy's spotter score (often just one), not for the entire rest of the mission. If she's not spotted again during that time, the "spotted" status runs out. So shooting a (one-turn) spotter doesn't have to mean "going loud", only taking a small step back to spend the subsequent enemy turn behind hard cover, and then back to sneaking around on your next turn.

Heuristic for estimating the spotter rating of your enemies:

Spoiler:

Generally speaking, soldiers (e.g. Humanist Soldier, Spartan Rifleman, Ninja Gal) and competent bandits (e.g. Highwayman, Ratmen) have spotter 1, dedicated scouts and lookouts (e.g. Spartan and Raider scouts, Stormrats, Field Gun, Pillbox) have spotter 2, and field officers (e.g. Spartan Lieutenant, Humanist Leader) have spotter 3-4.

Ah, I did actually know of the intelligence stat- but thank you for a bit more fine detailing on that! Though, I am curious. Is it in 'half turns', or does it count down only on enemy phases?

Still, the issue is less 'I get seen' and more of I kill someone, and the ~25 (average?) enemies know exactly where she is. So grenades get chucked, or someone shoots through a window. Difficult to get a good hard cover when you've got 8 Cats and 6 of them murder to clear the drop zone. Im debating transitioning into the Firefox for a harder cover for me to exploit. More expensive, but the Metallio is rough when it comes to Turn 1-2 survival in that regard if it lands like shit.

29

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 19, 2024, 01:18:22 am »

If you're getting shot at, it means you're doing something wrong. You need to be playing more into catgirl strengths. And enemy weaknesses.

You almost never use smoke. Use it more offensively instead of defensively. Especially on day missions. Of course, it's not useful against certain enemies.

Not sure what you mean here. Enemy density and Sniper Spotter relationships alone makes smoke not the most ideal, and near impossible to avoid getting shot.

I will admit I could be using smoke more offensively, But I try to exploit the hell out of my night vision. (Fully admit I don't regear for Daytime) but my Internal logic kind of falls:
If Enemy has Sniper-Spotter, why bother? After the first shot/kill, they'll know exactly where that unit is. (I could be entirely wrong on this, but as far as im aware of, thats how S-S Relations work.)
If Enemy doesn't have Sniper Spotter- It is extremely likely we'll out vision them, so why cut off my own LoS? Cats have Minor Thermal (I believe) but I could just. Pull back and out vision them. 9 V.S 12.

I will admit that smoke is 100% a habit though and when you break the habit, its hard to go back. Actually kind of broke the habit because of Piratez...

Money Purses, Bags of Cash, Treasure Chests, etc, you should always extract instead of selling directly. Extracting yields more money. You're not particularly efficient with money as you're hoarding a ton of stuff that would simply be better off sold, and the money invested into better gear and more bases.

I actually do know of this. With stabilizing Income from the Infamy, i'll probably Forget to crack them open, given im not reliant on direct injections of cash and my Runts have nothing better to do. Especially when I need Casino. I kept them around as "I need 2 million by the end of the month boosters", and Difficulty 4 does slash the selling price by about 25%. So. Easier to just sell the big bags when I wanted cash. Not efficient though, 100% agree.

The game supports mouse wheel. Among other things, you can use it to quickly move workers and researchers around. Just hover the cursor over the number of assigned personnel next to a project and spin it. Can also hold Ctrl to make it faster.

I think I already told Yugian about mouse wheel, he just never uses it.

Actually, Knew about this as well. My mouse wheel has just been broken and just rode out my mouse. Though considering its double clicking and my keyboard is janking multiple keys, I ordered myself new hardware... about a week ago. Should of arrived by now, actually... 

On night missions you're often moving your units into lit areas, because with night vision on, you can't really see those. I suggest you use the Ctrl+End keyboard shortcut (Toggle Brightness), and play on medium lightness. That way you can still see things at night, while also seeing which lit-up places to avoid. Game also looks better that way. Only turn on Night Vision when you want to be sure of your visible distance or if there's no lit areas.

This I Did NOT know however, and is really goddamn neat. Thank you lad. It is however, definately messing with me, because im not used to it. Defiantely looks better though. Just have to remember to do it every mission.

There's plenty of light and strong weapons to choose from. Alternatively, produce some Levitators.

What are Levitators? I am not very knowledgeable in Piratez.

Oh yeah. Suppressed Pistols and Bio Daggers for early game. Omega Rifles Murder. Lasguns are always fun. There is definitely good equipment, just noting that compared to Ubers- it a lot Tighter in what you can bring. both in variety in density.

Also forgot about Leviators honestly. As for what Levitators are Kamivax, they're a Gear item that reduce your carry weight, but increase you freshness drain by like... 2? Lemme check that.
Its 15 weight for +1 Freshness drain. Honestly worth some value here, compared to Ubers.

30

XPiratez / Re: Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

« on: April 18, 2024, 12:07:54 am »

August 1st, 2602
Skullsday

The Dead have finally been accounted for.

I've managed to work past my dreams for now. The desires of the shadow, as I've put my mind towards combat unceasing. Perhaps that in itself is the prayer to my patrons- whom must be pleased with the carnage we've left in our wake. Instead of battling fatigue and lethargy, I fight Attritional rates and balancing my checkbook. Making sure I have the funding for new defense spending and ensuring that the our war machine grinds ever onward.

Twenty three Garrison units. Six of our Fighting crew... and one of them was Fleur. Ah, Fleur... She was always spirited. A steady heart with a calm demeanor about her, yet eyes not unlike a hawk. Never afraid to put herself up against a challenge... One of us eight whom knew Captain Miriam. And now she goes to greet her ahead of us. I.

Fuck.

Okay. Compose yourself. Your sounding like a widow. You knew this was coming.

As is observing of the burial rights, we've interred the dead into caskets and preserved them for now. Once we're off this planet or can request further assistance from the Empress (Hell, I'll pay for Smugglers at this point), we will surrender them to the stars- as befits any warrior of the empire. Maybe I'll see about Ucron's star though for Fleur.

She liked the Garden world there. Hm.

Right. So. The War Machine. The witches have tried us, and what lies on my desk appears to be some serum. Only enough for one dose, but it looks... Strange. Like its actively /alive/. I've kept it off limits whilst we figure out what it is fully capable of. From what the Brainers tell me, its a Retrovirus. A Gene therapy that can enhance our capabilities. Its also something we cant reproduce- much to my Chagrin. Its a product of Bio-Tech and the Golden Witches capabilities. Unique, and limited. When she feels charitable enough to speak to us again, we must answer. Considering last month though, I do not think the Arch Coven is shy about testing my strength. We will see the Golden witch at work again.

Cleopatra on the other hand, is irritable that we did not answer the phone for her requested jobs. I sent her footage of some... Redcoats that have answered my door. She was much more charitable afterwards to our situation. The damage done to the European powers always puts a smile on her face. Which speaking of. I have a call here soon with the our Liaison once more. Apparently, the Iron Tribe has taken exception with us.

Good. I've been holding this in for Months.

August 2nd
Dragonsday

My Cadre stands near. Those of Miriam's crew. Those whom were first wave. And those whom want to see the man whom had condemned garrisons to die. The Holographic display would flicker to life- as our shadowy benefactor, ever covered by shadows- spoke with a tone that was less the gracious. Good, it was His turn to suffer indignant defeat.

"Captain. I believe we've made it clear that you are not to cause damage to the governments. Yet I am to report a Platoon missing from the Iron Tribe... What is worse, is that You have have posted combat footage on the Ethyrnet, for everyone to see. As if you are boasting about it. Do you realize how this makes you look, Captain?" My eyes shift to the crew. A few snickering as others avert their eyes. Thank you for making my job harder. It takes everything I have to not betray emotion- and keep composure. To turn this to my advantage. My ears flicking, I place my hand on the table, my voice firm.

"I know Exactly how it looks. I will not suffer you a second time, to tell me of Remuneration. You know exactly Why they died, and I will ensure that you have no leverage to lean on." Of course, our secrets and weakness was put on the forefront too- we only won by a knifes twist. A single defender. The new Garrison Commander of that base, by virtue of... Well. being alive. But that was neither here nor there.

"You do not Want me to be your enemy, Captain... You realize you are on a Contract. We can take away what we have Given. You wish to speak of Leverage, you only exist as an organization because we Allow it." A minor victory. I can hear irritation in his voice. A dangerous line to tread- for he had far more clout to act on his threats then we do. But if I am to protect my sisters- to change the dynamic of this relationship... I must press on.

"Hm. A shame then- if we were to disappear, that the factions would only bury deeper into your side. Especially as your Collaboration with Xenos is made evident- and Enemies of the star gods at that... one might think of you as seditious. Think of you as Rebellious. Do you think that Earth could suffer Another volley bombing from them? Do you think you could survive?" A silent moment of tension. A staredown, between two powers. An acknowledgement, that we were rapidly becoming peers... and that they held increasingly little power over me. A smile imparts from my lips. "Let me be perfectly clear. If you send more of your men after me- I shall slaughter them. I will hang their corpses from my walls, and I will ensure that it is seen. I will offer no quarter to those whom Dare strike at me under a banner of good faith. And should this problem continue, I will escalate."

Another moment of silence. Have I overplayed my hand? Have I pushed too far? I dont know. But I dont give him a chance to respond.

"Now, If you will excuse me- I am going to go do the Job you Pay us for, Despite your best attempts. We will be expecting our deposit as usual. Dont be late." My finger clicks on the button, and I exhale sharply. Tension leaves my body- as I look upon my Claw-Sisters.

Hopefully, I made a good showing of that.


Stream is no longer live!
Today's Sauce is brought you by Kamivax. Thanks Kami!

Post Mortem
Get to this one sooner rather then later, Ian.