Shrike woke up the next morning in his Jacuzzi recuperacoon to his computer beeping like crazy. He climbed out rather groggily and put on a new pair of clothes. He sat down at his desk and opened Trollian. He knew it would be TA pestering him.
- twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling godshawkSongbird [GS] -
TA: hey
TA: hey biirdy
GS: }} Yes?
TA: you need to play the Game quiick a2 fuck
TA: my 2tupiid teammate2 2tarted playing already and there are meteor2 raining down on u2 like deadly confetti
GS: }} Oh bugger. I shall commune with my teammates immediately.
TA: theyre ready to play already
GS: }} I see.
GS: }} Goodbye
- godshawkSongbird [GS] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA] -
This had escalated faster than he had expected. He had to connect to Errbin, no time to lose. Retrieving the Game from his Pocket Modus. The pocket modus was simple but sometimes rather irritating. He withdrew the Game and a hole formed in his pocket, causing his DUAL KNIVES to fall out. Not bothering to put them back, he equipped his shoulder sheath and slipped the knives into their slots.
Inserting the game, labeled SGRUB into his computer. After a few seconds a spirograph loading screen appeared. Shrike tabbed out to Trollian and trolled Errbin
- godshawkSongbird [GS] began trolling unabashedCountess [UC] -
GS: }} Good morning.
UC: f1nally youre here
UC: veve been va1ting for ages
GS: }} Very sorry about that, I didn't know we were starting so early.
UC: 1ts one 1n the afternoon dumbass
GS: }} Is it really? Never matter. You must connect to me.
UC: 1 can certa1nly do that
GS: }} Ace.
Shrike kept the conversation open and tabbed back to SGRUB. It had finished loading and said PLEASE WAIT FOR SERVER PLAYER. After a few seconds An interface came up saying UC wants to be your server player – accept?
Shrike pressed accept and the window closed. Hearing a loud noise behind him he turned around to see his recuperacoon flying from the wall and a large heavy object being placed in the space that was left
GS: }} What in the blazes are you doing?
UC: mak1ng some renovat1ons
GS: }} You're not the best construction worker I've seen.
UC: th1s vhole hive sucks
UC: the drones screved th1s one up
GS: }} How do you even pronounce screved? And the drones did NOT botch this hive. It was constructed to my exact specifications.
UC: you have no taste
GS: }} Bah.
That insolent fudgeblood. He looked out of the hole in the wall to see a large purple cursor picking up the recuperacoon, now rather useless.
GS: }} What are you doing with that?
UC: 1 need to drop 1t on the cruxtruder
GS: }} Maybe it would have been better if you HADN'T dropped my recuperacoon of the tower.
UC: vhatever
Impudent woman. Shrike picked up his PDA then walked downstairs to see another device, this one a circular platform. Errbin told him it was an alchemiter, whatever that meant. She then deployed a long object named the Totem Lathe. She told Shrike to go upstairs. What he found was the recuperacoon hovering over the cruxtruder. She dropped the recuperacoon, making it fall onto the column of the cruxtruder. The lid popped off and out came a glowing, floating sphere with a spirograph in the center and a teal object which Shrike was informed to be a cruxite dowel. He was instructed to throw an object into the spirograph, apparently named the kernelsprite. He decided to throw an Assassin's Creed poster in, causing two fragments of the kernelsprite to go up and down, respectively. What remained was Altair's face grinning crazily.
Skipping ahead, Shrike was confronted by a teal safe, which popped into existence on the bed of the alchemiter. As he approached, the door of the safe flew open, then disappeared. Left on the alchemiter was a small lockbox.
UC: damage 1t
GS: }} Beg your pardon?
UC: damage 1t. destroy 1t
GS: }} I see.
Shrike drew one of his knives before stabbing the lockbox. The knife practically bounced off, leaving barely a chip on the hard surface.
GS: }} And how do you propose I do this?
UC: 1 dunno
UC: you keep a papercl1p 1n your pocket, dont you?
GS: }} How did you know?
UC: lucky guess
Suspicious. Nevertheless, there was a large meteor falling at speed towards his hive. Shrike expertly drew his trusty paperclip from his Pocket Modus, luckily not making a hole in his pocket. Inserting the clip and a knife into the lock he swiftly unlocked it with minimal wiggling. The lockbox swung open, revealing small ceramic turtle. Though puzzled, Shrike knew what to do. Stabbing the underside of the turtle caused a flash of light and a high-pitched noise, knocking Shrike out cold.