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Luckish

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Hopper Bug

Hopper Bug (3/9)

  1. A Sunday Morning Eugh... What fucking time is it? The alarm blared -- Oh nine hundred. Fuck. "What're you doing still in bed?" An acrid, unwelcomed voice interjected the dreamless sleep, alerted by the alarm. No response. I know what time it is. Standing, stretching, stumbling. It's only a minute before I realize I had already walked there. Bright lights -- Or were they just as bright as yesterday? I can't tell, but I know the lights did it. It kept you on edge, whenever it'd happen, but you knew it'd happen. Ever since you accidentally grabbed that dying woman, you hadn't realized the mistake was already made. You didn't see them die initially, you saw them live. As lucid as you sat in the chair of the sickbay, you sat in the chair of a dentist, getting a cavity filled. You knew you cared more about how you were going to get alcohol tonight than about the fact that you didn't brush your teeth. You walked out and ignored your mother, walking straight back to the car. "Do you feel like you are in control of your own body?" A soft, welcomed voice interjected the wakeful dream, alerted by the wistfulness. Of course I said 'yes', of course I nodded. That wasn't my mom. I'm not even from Earth --.. Terra, even. Who was Ardi? "Who are you?" The voice piped up again after jotting down your answer. That's a stupid question. Madison He -... Hunter McCafferty. Hunter McCafferty. Hunter McCafferty, seventy-ninth Moritas, second company, third platoon. I am Hunter McCafferty, from Iskander, part of the seventy-ninth Moritas, second company, Julian's Janissaries. I -- "Are you still able to recite the Federal Oath and understand it?" Despite the friendliness of the voice, the motives were wholly clear. How many times did they do this? I did. I said that, and I think I did. Did I? Why did I take it twice? You remember taking it, standing in line with your best friend. Soon to be shipped off to basic, and then the front with him. Life was the usual Hell of infantry like you remember it -- But what was that? Something wasn't right. You saw Epsilon Eridani. You saw Centannia. You were only nineteen, this wasn't possibl --... Gore in your vision as you stomped through the burnt fields of grain in Centannia. You knew what you were doing. "Please answer the question." The voice rang again. Did I not say that? I said it again, or thought I did, and that appeased the psychologist. Nobody really told me what was happening -- I just wanted to sleep. It was the only thing that made sense. "What was the last thing you remember?" She asked innocently. You didn't know. This wasn't the last thing you remembered, but it was the first thing that came up, "Thank you... Thank you for letting me have that." It felt horribly wrong as you saw yourself stand in front of someone much taller than you, in some sort of strange, shipside bar. You cared deeply for the stranger ahead of you, almost terrified for their existence. The tension in your shoulders peeled away as you felt some warmth creep back into your bones, the loneliness of the death of your friend dulled in intensity. Did they die? I answered plainly, "Not much. A flash? Some explosion?" "Anything specific? Anything before or after the initial incident." The voice remained vague about the incident in question. No. I knew nothing about what happened before -- Why after? Why would I remember anything after? I barely remember the last week. It was uncomfortable each time it happened. You knew something was wrong, but it was impossible to discern. Standing over someone you didn't know, you saw life drain from their eyes. Only, you knew them -- You know they were shot with a morita in the back, and you knew they weren't going to live. In the dank sewer you sat in, you felt unbridled rage course through you. A young, short man ran up to you, yelling at you to hurry things up. The rage remained coiled as you ignored him verbally with a vile stare. "It's alright if you don't remember anything right now." She noticed your uncomfortable nature after the question. "Why am I here?" It was a pretty simple question, all things considered. It might have been at least two weeks since I woke up in this hospital. It was way too high tech to be just any field hospital. I could tell there was artificial gravity. "Latent psychic abilities. For now, it's best you cooperate with us so we can ensure you have a speedy transition." The answer was vague. What transition? I sat there and nodded along. After the first few, unnatural, vague questions, it was pretty standard. It was a physical with some... Oddities on top. Latent psychic? It was too confusing to understand at first, I never bothered to understand those things that I'd never get close to knowing. Ironic how fate moves like that, huh? I blinked and I was standing, moving already from the room. It was uncomfortable. One second you were walking along with them, the next you were walking along with them. You knew them -- You thought. You knew them! Inside a dingy tunnel, you knew them. The fear you felt as the captain turned a family into burnt pieces, you knew that. You turned back around with the small, familiar man, both of you paying mind to the mission at hand. A family wasn't much in the face of DOTONs loose in the hands of arachnid saboteurs. You knew you were an hour from nearly dying, you knew you were an hour from saving a man's life. You didn't know them. It all came flooding back as I stepped back into my room. I saw her laid out on the ground, struggling to breath. The door slid closed behind me and I choked back a sound -- I couldn't just stand there as I watched them die. "Breakfast in twenty minutes." The voice came out from behind the door. I know. Why do I know that? I just woke up here. Why do I know that? The voice echoed in your head as you watched yourself climb the side of a building, up crates. A beanbag to your chest as a door was heard being slammed open. Bang! Bang! A man came from around the corner -- You didn't recognize him, but you knew him. "You OK, Henley?" He lifted you up as you gasped out. Eugh... What fucking time is it? The alarm blared -- Oh nine hundred. Fuck. Another day fled away. "What're you doing still in bed?" An acrid, unwelcomed voice interjected the dreamless sleep, alerted by the alarm. (Interact ICly to be added :))
  2. day 15 of asking aurora to add my charactee
  3. Sgt. Madison Henley S#: 621-25-9901-XX edgy
  4. the ooc chat lmao. also for some reason your arms look extra long? oh well. no major glaring things, accepted
  5. I have a very short piece to add. See the image and my PEVs. I was talking to Luna about this, as far as ineffective treatment goes. I don’t expect anyone to be an expert in trauma medicine, or know every piece of equipment under the sun. I’m super lenient whenever I see any medrp, it doesn’t matter, we’re not doctors. However, after about 15 minutes of arguing and a redo, you opted for the exact same treatment that my PEVs clearly stated weren’t working. I even gave the redo for benefit of the doubt, hoping the hint may finally kick in. The hint being that regular tourniquets didn’t work, the injury doesn’t have to be on your groin to have them not work. Well, you did the same thing except now the MEDEVAC is here, and you ask them to clamp your femoral, and they try, but it’s not exactly easy. The two “solutions” I immediately had in mind was, yes clamp it, or a junctional tourniquet. “How was I supposed to know that? I’m not an actual combat medic, dude.” Neither am I, but the only time I won’t be lenient is when a medic is trying to stop a PK flow. If a medic wants to believe they can stop or even just slow a pretty much inevitable PK, they better make it convincing/have actually put in the minimal effort outside their direct roleplay to flesh out their knowledge. Yes, potentially surviving a PK or lasting longer than you normally would is a reward for you being smart in those final few moments, if it’s even possible in the first place. I’m not expecting you to know how to fix yourself, that’s kind of the point of PKs, but if you do know about junctional tourniquets (which I don’t believe is rocket science), then boom, rewarded by slowing the inevitable. also I am reading that you applied a junctional, you only kept putting them on your leg, packing it, etc. regardless, the injury was given to be unsurvivable with time for you to roleplay out the death. In fairness to you, I should’ve immediately hit you with a “death approaches” flow, and I was being vague about the injury because you can’t physically open your thigh to see your femoral is mangled beyond salvation, and a tourniquet would’ve just been pressing on loose veiny bits. I don’t think we fault you for leaving. EDIT:::: The injury is pretty much a moot point when considering the PK, it's more so about the situation leading up to it, if that's fair. Once someone rolls a 0 or 1, that's a PK, no other way to flip it. Unless you did something so off the rails that not even I thought of it, once you or anyone else gets that roll and it's determined to be not some sort of script error, it's game over man. again, biggest issue for me is i didn't hit you with "death approaches"
  6. So while I'm not sure if you dispute Kris' claim of the tiger lagging behind, and if you disagree with the fact that it was a PK flow that hit two people incredibly enough, we can agree that your main issue with this PK is the fact that you got it while typing. While I understand situations like being shot and PK flowed while in actual S2RP situations by an NPC or something, this is not that. There is definitely a fine balance to strike between fairness in how many bugs you spawn in S2K and allowing players to roleplay. I think that balance was achieved here. You took the moment to, in-character, climb up onto the arachnid and as you were doing that, a lagging arachnid took the opportunity to strike two people. You didn't have to start typing in that moment, and that your character could've waited a few more seconds to crawl onto the bug to get a better view. And that was the precedent we did set with an early PK appeal, stopping to type in purely S2K situations can result in a PK, not to discourage roleplay, but in a way to say "hey, there is still danger, we'll give you a time to type soon". If you were FORCED to roleplay, and you weren't given time to type even in an S2K scenario, even in PVP, this would be a no-brainer. But your character decided to climb onto the bug as soon as this one caught up, and just happened to pay the ultimate price. Sorry, but PK's gonna be sustained. I'll leave this open for a bit if you want to say anything else, or have any other questions. @Null
  7. since i wasn't there, im going to respond on this after seeing what the GM says about the situation. @Kris
  8. im so terribly sorry. i refute my previous state and i hereby humbly offer over the position of senior management officer for your pac application. please. minyari, take it away.
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