#i may not know how to draw mech but i can draw mecha shoes and clothing parts

[strangetfpblog]

Wip

Guess who!

[nitroglycerin-sponge]

Westion Part 1: Alamonia Town Hall, Part 1

Links: 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

prev in storyline / storyline main

Bonus: rumours

Rumours may follow one of the following structures:

"I heard that [PlayerName] puts [item] on [item]!"

"I heard [PlayerName] is going to [activity] [location]!"

"I heard that [PlayerName] has [descriptor] [item]!"

"Did you know that [PlayerName] eats [item]?"

"Everyone is talking about how [PlayerName] has [descriptor] [item]!"

"I heard [PlayerName] is going out with [NPC]!"

"I heard [PlayerName] and [NPC] are getting married!"

"I heard that [PlayerName] and [NPC] are getting divorced!"

"I heard [NPC] say that [PlayerName] lost to [NPC] in Assault Mecha!"

"My cousin's friend told [NPC] that [PlayerName] put [quantity] [item] [location]!"

"My friend's friend knows a guy who saw [PlayerName] [activity] with [NPC]!"

Item:

action figures, babies, beatboxes, blocks, books, boxes, brains, cake, cans of sham ham, cat treats, chili, chocolate, coffeemakers, crayons, dirt, dog treats, dolls, donuts, dreams, dust bunnies, ears, energy blades, eyebrows, feet, fish, flamethrowers, gelatin molds, ghosts, goals, gremlins, guitars, guns, headphones, lava lamps, meatballs, mecha, mince meat pies, missiles, moglins, molasses, monkeys, notebooks, octopi, pepperonis, pie, pizzas, prunes, refrigerators, repair trucks, sausages, shoes, small animals, socks, speakers, spiders, sushi, tables, umbrellas, various anime episodes

Activity:

bake cakes, beatbox, breakdance, bust ghosts, bust rhymes, collect fireflies, collect seashells, cut hair, do somersaults, draw caricatures, drink tea, drive a car, duel, eat pie, eat stinky cheese, eat sushi, feast on gummy bears, fetch shrubberies, fish for trout, give a dissertation, have a food fight, have a party, ice skate, jump rope, light firecrackers, make coffee, make pie, panhandle for credits, plant trees, punt Moglins, put up posters, rock out, rollerblade, run with scissors, sell popcorn, shuck clams, skateboard, snuggle with puppies, spread rumours, toss kittens, use bugspray, walk on walls, wear platform shoes, whistle, write on walls with crayon

Location:

at GEARS University, at the Hospital, at Mecharoni, at Mysterious Emporium, at Tek's Mechs, behind the Museum, by the statue's shoe, in Alamonia, in Cinemech, in Khaeldron, in Dean Warlic's office, in Soluna City, in The White castle, in a car, in a dorm room, in a mecha cockpit, in an elevator, in front of the Star Captain Club, in jail, in Mecharoni boxes, in Mysterious places, in someone else's Starship, in someone's Starship, in Tek's warehouse, in the Hospital waiting room, in the back room of the Knife & Spork, in the ocean, in the statue's shoe, in vending machines, under a bench, underwater

Descriptor:

absurd, awesome, awful, backwards, behemoth, bizarre, disgusting, enormous, excellent, fantastic, funky, funny, fuzzy, gargantuan, gigantic, ginormous, gorgeous, horrible, horrific, huge, improbable, incredible, lilliputian, massive, messed-up, microscopic, miniscule, overrated, silly, small, smelly, super, superlative, teensy, tiny, uberrific, ugly, upside-down, voracious, wacky, weird, wild

NPC:

Admina, Aleysia, Amalthea, Arin-Ha, Casca, Chief Duncan, Clyde, Dean Warlic, Denara, Ensign Lisa, Grayson Light, H.A.L., Jaania, Jhaek-Ha, Kingadent Slugwrath, Lord Valoth, Maegwyn, Maria 5, Master Tsuba, Mysterious Johnson, Nurse Helia, Odessa Pureheart, Qjik'Han, Sheriff Broncho, Sys-Zero, Tek, Twang, Val, Worsh, Xaria, my brother, my cousin, my father, my mother, my sister, your brother, your cousin, your father, your mother, your sister

Quantity:

42, a bazillion, a complete lack of, a shipload, absolutely zero, boxes full of, way too many

[pawnshopsouls]

pigmonarch‌:

As Bonely is launched back from the first Porky-bot’s explosion, a wide, delighted grin crosses Porky’s face.  Oh, this is going to be fun!  Even better when Bonely scrambles to his feet and  then finally uses that magic Porky has desperately wanted to see.  Massive spikes erupt from the ground amidst a light show of white and black.  Porky-bots explode without a target and others are lucky enough to be stabbed through entirely by the spikes.  Porky squeals in childish delight at the sight of all his bots being destroyed.  Wonderful!  Now this was what he’d been waiting for!

That’s when the lights go out and Porky giggles.  He can hear that beat– is it coming from Bonely?– and he knew he was about to have fun with his new friend here.  He adds another layer of PSI Counter for safety’s sake, an other brief flash of white light draping over the mecha.  Once it fades, the eyes of his bed mech light up red in the dark, adding a soft glow to the area just in front of him.  He can’t see Bonely anymore, but he has a good idea of where he is now.

But that may change, and Porky knows it.  His bed mech is heavy, and he’s well aware that every movement is going to be telegraphed by the clicking of its legs against that hard floor.  Bonely has the advantage of silence, but it’s not like he’s concerned for his safety or health at all.  No one beats Master Porky.  They may try, but none yet have succeeded.  He seriously doubts Bonely will either, though he may manage to damage the bed mech a little– that’s no worry, either.  Dr. Andonuts can always fix it.

“A wonderful show it will be,” Porky hums. “But I don’t think you yet realize the disadvantage that you’re at.”

A few more Porky-bots deploy from his bed mecha and scramble out into the darkness, flanking Bonely on either side.  Porky’s bed mech springs to life again out of its resting mode and scrambles to the left as he launches of a spread of PSI Bombs– an inexplicable kind of attack for a non-PSI user like himself– across the room.  The bed mech draws its legs close to the its body and sits in wait for Bonely’s reply.

As the porky-bots approach Bonely, the tempo increased, giving the electro-swing melody an even more aggressive edge. With a clap of his black wingtip shoes, the man let up another burst of spikes, most impaling toddling porkybots. It was when the mechanical bed began to move that the pawnbroker’s attention was really caught - especially after those bizarre lights it spat across the room. He didn’t even have a moment to put up another shield of spikes when the “lights” made contact with the floor and walls, exploding in a cacophony of shock-waves.

Stan held his hands to his head, his ears ringing. That hadn’t been expected. He knew concussion grenades existed but he didn’t think they looked like that! Giving a low snarl, the man clapped his heel against the floor again, this time dispelling the flesh such bombs would so easily hinder. Now this pork-rind guy was in for it.

“Well, well, well, sounds like yeh like fun ‘n’ games,” Bonely sneered, his battle song skipping a bit as he tried introduce his usual method of illusionary hallucinations. “How about a bit a’ baseball then, huh?”

With a snap of his fingers, a number of Bonelys with what looked like fiery “baseballs” were standing all around the room. In unison they pulled back their arms and pitched their balls at the bots around the room. Some did nothing, while others exploded on contact, briefly illuminating the room with their indigo flashes. The sight of such disarray would’ve given the pinstriped skeleton a feeling of satisfaction... had his fiery baseball from hades actually hit the mech bed.

Whatever that energy field was, it prevented his magical attacks from penetrating to the old man. Which meant there was only a slight chance the illusions weren’t doing anything either. He had to fix that. But how did one get through a shield of water when all you had was fire? The skeleton let out another growl when his foot clinked against something. He looked down and spotted a large chunk of one of the autoton’s heads. A sinister grin crossed his face as a wickedly brilliant idea slid into his dome.

Crouching down, the skeleton grabbed hold of the disembodied porkybot head and pushed his magic into it. Its eyes glowed purple as his magic drew its parts together like a magnet or a cartoon skeleton. Bonely grinned as the pieces fit right back together like it had never been wrecked by the keimin’s blackened spikes.

“A’right little guy,” he said, patting the mechanical bomb-child’s back. “Go play.”

And with that he sent the purple Porkybot skipping along toward the mean red eyes of the real Porky’s spiderbed.

Fun and Games | Porky & Bonely

[sky3jmight-blog]

Side Characters Are Not The Heroes

A short story about a young man who knows he isn’t the main character in his own life. I posted this to a Wordpress blog I’m a part of a while ago. I plan to upload the rest of them eventually. For those who are interested in the meantime, the blog is at thewritingprojectsite.wordpress.com. Enjoy!

I am not the main character.

But wait a minute, you say as you read that sentence, you're the one talking right now. This story is about your experiences.

True. Yet I am only supporting cast.

Crazy things happen around me. Insane things. I sometimes get so deeply involved it's a miracle I come out alive. Because of this, life is somewhat difficult. I've actually gained somewhat of a reputation, making insurance companies less likely to cover me and employers more hesitant to take me on.

I see, you still don't understand. Well, maybe I can explain it by sharing what happened to me a few weeks ago. That was the day Dr. Peril arrived on the scene. He shot up a couple banks, melted a couple icebergs and flooded California, gave the rest of said Californians cancer, and held the world at his mercy by changing certain chemical elements in world leaders to cause them to explode upon contact with a normal everyday substance (citric acid, it was discovered later). Then he disappeared, leaving the world to cower in his absence. What was the madman planning? When would he return? And where had he even gone?

Surprise. He came to see me.

"I have to say," he grumbled as he entered my home, pushing past me to get to the couch, "I find it very cold-blooded of you to leave the world at peril like that. I had everything in my clutches, with nothing to stand in my way."

I closed the door and walked into the living room area. He had already flopped comfortably, arms spread, across my sofa. I noticed he had left his shoes on, but it was too late to say anything now.

"I don't have much in the way of snacks," I proposed politely, "but I have lemonade if you'd like some."

"Yeah, that does sound good right now. And don't be so informal, man. We're pals, right? We go way back."

"I don't remember," I called from the kitchen, "how far back are we talking here?"

Freeze for a second. Why am I so calm? Well, when you've been through everything I have...no, scratch that. Having been through everything I have I’ve come to realize a couple things. Having a clearer perspective on the fragility of life actually helps me keep calm in situations like these. I could die at any moment. Does it matter when or where? And besides, if this dude wanted me dead it would happen. Might as well see what he wanted. I was legitimately curious right now.

"Wow. I was afraid of this," the doc called back to me, "we were kids. We met in middle school. Edith Marin."

"I only went there a year. What was so special about that time?" I asked as I walked back in the room, "oh, here you go."

Dr. Peril took the glass with one hand and tossed a small cube at the coffee table with the other. It floated a couple inches off the table, and spread out a holographic image at a seated eye level. I took a chair.

"This device takes our collective memories and makes a three dimensional image based off off each of our perspectives. It works with two people, but you won't believe the clarity if four or more share the same experience together."

"This is incredible. Hey, those robots..." I said slowly, "I think I remember those."

"I built those robots to protect me," the doc smiled, "bullies were always trying to pick on us. You were a big kid at the time and took it. You didn't want to hurt them back."

"You made cool robots and stuff," I nodded, "we would play with them."

"You liked my robots. We played superheroes all the time in the sandbox. One time we made a promise together. Here, listen."

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a superhero and stop bad guys." The little me said as he posed heroicly.

"Yeah. I'll use my robots to take the bad guy's money and hurt them really bad. Then I'll be in charge of the world and make the bullies against the law."

"You can't do that. Bad guys take over the world and hurt people. Heroes just put them in jail and stuff."

"But they just get out. And they hurt more people. That's stupid." The kid doc tightened a bolt on his robot's arm. "I'll be a good bad guy, who does bad stuff to only the bad people. I'll hurt them all."

"If I become a superhero, I'd have to stop you. I'd fight your robots and beat them all up." Little me punched a knee-high droid with my action figure.

"Well, I'll be the best bad guy ever. And even if you become a superhero you won't be able to stop me."

"I'll still beat you. Because I'll be the best superhero and good guys always win. And we'll still be friends, and I'll always fight your robots and play and stuff. I promise."

"You get the idea," the doc said as he turned off the cube and tucked it back into his pocket. "We made a promise as kids to be arch rivals. I kept up my end of the deal, of course. I had those bullies subdued within the next school year, and ruled those grounds with an iron fist. From there I hacked, traded, scammed, and bought my way into a fortune. I have my own business empire now, run from the shadows. And secret facilities built in Atlantis supply me with all my robots and other deadly items needed for total world domination."

"Okay." I said slowly, "so, how do I fit in to all of this?"

"You have to stop me!" Doctor Peril exclaimed as he waved his arms wildly, "my achievements become stagnant. I literally conquered the entire world, and with no know extraterrestrial races I can't really go any further than I already have. Without resistance, I have no reason to grow and produce and destroy..."

I started to laugh. I couldn't help it! The idea was so ludicrous.

"My intense drive for domination has left me with withdrawals! If you cut me down to size I can get back to work on bigger and better inventions of destruction, and my life will have purpose once again." The doctor was now on his feet and pacing around the room.

"But I'm not a superhero! I really wish I was, but I'm no match for your brilliant machines." I sighed, "things have happened before now, but someone else always saves the day."

"But you promised me! Alpha, what have you even been doing these last fifteen years?" The doctor was visibly frustrated.

"Trying not to die whenever something supernatural or horrifically disastrous happens." I sat back, "I keep busy."

The doctor sighed, then looked at his watch.

"I have to go. But this isn't over. You will become my rival, in some way. Somehow." And with that, he was gone.

It was only a few minutes until I received my next visitor. A man in a black suit and dark expression.

"May I help you?" I asked him.

"That's classified," he said in a monotone voice, "Alpha Persiona?"

"Yes, that's me."

"I need to ask you a few questions."

It soon became clear what this man wanted. You can’t have an evil doctor driving a giant robot park outside your house without drawing some attention to yourself. This dude wanted to know what went down.

"Want some lemonade?" I asked him after I finished telling him all I knew.

He lowered his sunglasses to glare at me. "After what the doctor did last week?"

"Right. Too soon. Sorry."

"I'm afraid I'll need you to come with me." The man snapped some cuffs around my wrists before I could move. He led me outside and into a giant black limousine. Well, that was that. There goes my normal life. I could easily guess they were going to use me against the doctor in some way, and they also saw me as disposable. Being supporting cast, there was almost no chance of me surviving either.

" Hold it right there," Dr. Peril landed his giant mech on the road in front of us. It's calves opened up to distribute rows of folded up battle droids, deploying an army within seconds.

"This is where it gets real boys. Open fire," the man who kidnapped me ordered. Vehicles and soldiers appeared from seemingly nowhere, and the neighborhood erupted into militarized chaos. Houses exploded and vehicles were sent flying as man fought machine.

"With that giant robot he's got, it doesn't matter how many ground troops you have. It won't be enough!" I exclaimed as I watched the Peril’s mech launch a volley of missiles at incoming jets. The man in black just smiled.

"Form calves and thighs!" He commanded as our car and some of the surrounding vehicles started to transform, "form arms and body! Form rockets, wings, megaswords, mega guns, mega gunswords, mega stilettos..."

Tanks, jets, helicopters, motorcycles, and even a semi truck all piled together into a massive entity. Finally our limo made it's way to the pinnacle point of this monstrous creation. I was in awe.

"And I'll become the head!" The man roared as he slammed into the cockpit.

"How is this possible?" I asked in amazement. We stood easily three times as large as the Peril mecha.

"32 vehicles and one robot tiger. The latest in the earths defense collaborations. Each country holds a piece or two of the mighty robot, and we only combine when the earth is in as mighty peril as it has come to under the hands of Peril. We are known as the hyper Mega Gaigundratron Alliance!" The man adjusted his sunglasses, "but that's classified."

"Oh boy." I smiled, "looks like Dr. Peril didn't need me to challenge him after all."

"You morons," Peril crowed back at his new adversaries, "you act like I wouldn't have anticipated this. Anti-squad, assemble!"

Four new robots blasted onto the scene, and I recognized them in an instant. T-rex bot, Mech-L, Swiss knife, and Potato. Along with the Peril mech, these were the very same robots I fought as a child.

"I finished their final upgrade over summer vacation, but when school was finally back in session you were already gone. I guess now is as good a time as ever to show you what these guys can do!" Dr. Peril roared, "transform!"

They all kept into the sky and combined together. We watched in amazement as the almost impossible configuration occurred. They were still a bit smaller than our robot, but you could tell his contraption had serious power.

"Peril mech 3000 is online!" He roared triumphantly, "come at me!"

The battle that ensued was incredibly fierce. The Mega Gaigundratron fought with almost every weapon they could pack into a giant robot, but was quickly pinned by the Rex arm and blasted in the face by Potato's gun armaments.

"We have no choice. We'll have to set off our nuclear core while he has us down. Everyone, prepare to overload." The man grabbed the Peril Mech 3000 and activated his thrusters. Peril held on tightly, and I quickly realized that the doc hasn't installed any flight capabilities. Even if he escaped the nuclear explosions, his robot would surely be damaged in the fall. We soared higher and higher towards the atmosphere.

"I'm impressed. You've somehow managed to integrated a couple of NASA jet rocket packs onto your machine. You could easily break the atmosphere and carry on to the moon if you chose," Peril's voice came on over the communication line.

"Our plans exactly. We will keep this world safe with our lives" the man in the suit growled, "we're taking you with us, bub."

"One problem, although it's my solution," Peril laughed at him, "Tesla death ray."

"Wait, wha-" was all the man could say before the two robots vaporized into thin air. Each pilot had a parachute, thankfully. Except for me. Well, I wasn't a pilot, though. That's why I didn't have one, I guess. Not to worry though, my safety was secured in Rex's head, which had detached and become an escape pod.

"Sorry about your robots, man." I said as I climbed into the copilot's chair.

"No need to worry, they were merely prototypes I created years ago. Apart from their sentimental value, they were pretty much useless compared to the stuff I have now."

"I see," I said, and with nothing else to say we both waited quietly as the robot head floated down past the parachutes and into my front yard.

Two weeks later I was once again entertaining the doctor at my house.

"Apparently the government had evacuated everyone in the area before they waged their battle, so there were no causulties," I stated as I handed Peril a lemonade, "and they cleaned up nice afterwards. Not a thing out of place. Even people's broken digital devices were restored by the time they returned home. The neighborhood is as good as new."

"Actually, the restoration is all to my credit," Dr. Peril informed me after a sip of lemonade, "I took 3-d scans of the entire neighborhood beforehand and printed everything that needed restoring with my secret manufacturing facilities."

"Huh? But why?" I asked, puzzled.

"That's a silly question. No one wants to live in a trashy neighborhood, especially me."

"Wait. You live in this neighborhood now?" I asked, startled.

"As of today, we're roomies. I've already taken the liberty of installing a four level facility underneath the house. Something so small is only useful for household and recreational experiments, but I'll have to make do until your latent heroic potential blooms and develops to the point where you become of use to me."

"Oh. And the t-rex head? Guess that isn't coming out of the front yard." I sighed.

"Why should it? It serves as a reminder to the world just how badly I've beaten them all. They'll be a while before they challenge me again, and as long as you stay under my protection they won't dare to lay a finger on you. Oh, and I retrofitted the head to serve as a vehicle. Here's you a set of keys, in case you need to take it anywhere."

And that, boys and girls, is the story of my life. Told you I wasn't the main character. In the credits after the movie I'm side character A. But I wouldn't say I'm unhappy about it. I'm content to be a Watson, chronicling the tales of the many Sherlock Holmes and professor Moriartys that run through my life. And maybe one day I'll meet you in some grand adventure, and you can save me. Or kill me. Or maybe join me in a supporting role.

Because sometimes, that's okay too.