Zpnesiii
- Thread starter Daftpanzer
- Start date
LittleBoots
The Bloody Banner
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2006
- Messages
- 1,979
Woooooooooooo! Success! The Squirrels always triumph! Insane decisions to come.
Are there any nuns left alive for me to play with?
Are there any nuns left alive for me to play with?
Abaddon
Deity
The Duanab
Location: Sahara
Leader: Splaaaarg
Techs: Acid spitting, hypnosis,nicoteen, advanced reproduction, 6th sense, Ten Gallon Hats
Infrastructure: Gargantuan underground tunnels
Army:
6 Earth Movers
5,000,000 Acid Spitters
20 Hat makers
5,000 hypnotherapists
6 ICBM Sperm Bomb.
The 20 meter long worms are annoyed. There seems to be a lot of noise going on in the big light.. its time to quiet things down, and not in a quiet way. The lackof camel skin also narked Splaaaarg. Without which they cannot tailor their Ten-Gallon hats...this must be resolved.
[OOC: Why not have two nations!]
Location: Sahara
Leader: Splaaaarg
Techs: Acid spitting, hypnosis,nicoteen, advanced reproduction, 6th sense, Ten Gallon Hats
Infrastructure: Gargantuan underground tunnels
Army:
6 Earth Movers
5,000,000 Acid Spitters
20 Hat makers
5,000 hypnotherapists
6 ICBM Sperm Bomb.
The 20 meter long worms are annoyed. There seems to be a lot of noise going on in the big light.. its time to quiet things down, and not in a quiet way. The lackof camel skin also narked Splaaaarg. Without which they cannot tailor their Ten-Gallon hats...this must be resolved.
[OOC: Why not have two nations!]
Abaddon
Deity
JosefStalinator
Я буду снова здесь
To Mewtonians
From Old Obesia
Excellent, the traitor will be respected and made into high quality soylent burgers. In fact, we are holding a contest; whoever gets the Orostein burger (available at any local McObesia's) will win a free trip to Old Obesia, to participate in our next promotional contest!*
*Next promotional contest may or may not entail cannibalism, consentual or otherwise.
Orders:
Construct a massive Obesoid fleet, and use it to explore planet 13, as well as protect shipments of Obesoid slaves and foodstuffs throughout the galaxy.
From Old Obesia
Excellent, the traitor will be respected and made into high quality soylent burgers. In fact, we are holding a contest; whoever gets the Orostein burger (available at any local McObesia's) will win a free trip to Old Obesia, to participate in our next promotional contest!*
*Next promotional contest may or may not entail cannibalism, consentual or otherwise.
Orders:
Construct a massive Obesoid fleet, and use it to explore planet 13, as well as protect shipments of Obesoid slaves and foodstuffs throughout the galaxy.
Daftpanzer
canonically ambiguous
thanks for the new nation and the orders!
ill make a new update in the next couple of days, if anyone else wants to do anything...
ill make a new update in the next couple of days, if anyone else wants to do anything...
Nylan
Characters Welcome
Spamspamspamspamspamspamspamspamspam
Nylan
Characters Welcome
*The above post is for the benefit of the obesians girth
)Trik and Gris both fell to the Weapons Deck floor. Trik mad a perfect two-point landing, Gris caught his foot on a ladder rung and swung face first and upside down into the wall.
Hakk spun around at the noise.
"You! How did you get past my swarm of minions?"
"I believe it's called the 'Stormtrooper Effect'."
"I knew I should have just left one... but it's of no matter. I just have to come up with a good monologue before I kill Trik... oh to hell with it."
Hakk flung the knife at Trik, still attached to the spinning wheel on the wall. It bounced off, missing Trik by a few feet.
"Your aim needs work." snickered Gris, who had finally shaken himself loose of the ladder.
Hakk flung a knife back. It struck Tekk firmly in the metal portion of his head.
"Odd... I smell burnt toast..."
"It's called 'lulling him into a false sense of security', idiot. I'll just kill him now if you're just going to mock me." Hakk flung a second knife-
-to have it collide in midair with the knife which had previously been imbedded in Tekk's head.
"I'm very good with trajectories."
"Enough of thi-" began Hakk, when a massive shock threw all of the penguins into a wall. Trik's wheel detached from the wall and fell to the floor, with the penuin on the bottom.
"What was that?" asked Gris, first to his feet.
"Visual!" shouted Hakk. The walls of the entire weapons deck went transparent. All around the ship were hundreds- no, thousands of ships. Unfamiliar ships. Suddenly, a transmission began on the ship's intercom.
"Greetings- we are the forces of Civilization Junction. You may call us the Junkies. The universe will be purified of all but Civilization. Are you Civilization?"
"What the..."
"Response negative. Scans indicate NES presence. Mutation of Civilization. Impure. Prepare for annihilation."
The ship shook violently as the bombardment renewed.
"Return fire!" shouted Hakk, "All penguins to defensive battlestations! Commence evasive maneuvers!"
"That would be more effective if you had a functioning crew right now. You just fried Pikt's mind, and we knocked out most of your crew during our raid on the ship."
"I see..." Hakk noticed a wing stick weakly out from under the heavy wheel near the wall.
"What's your plan for Trik?" asked Gris.
"Change of priorities. I can kill him later. Or, you know, he could apologize."
The three were silent for a moment.
"Apologize? Trik?" asked Gris incredulously.
"Death it is then." sighed Hakk, "Anyway, does anyone here know how to fly this thing?"
"I thought you did."
"No, Pikt did that."
"Damn... well, I can handle the weapons systems."
"I'll cover the rest. Hakk... try to revive Pikt."
Hakk jogged off. Gris raced to the targeting computer and began pressing buttons.
"You don't know how to use these, do you?"
"I've always wanted too."
Tekk rolled his organic eye and pre-emptively sent out a distress call. Just as he finished, an Irish fellow flanked by Leprechauns appeared on the communications screen.
"Hello? Hellooooooo. Is this thing on?"
"Sorry sir, let me turn it on."
The image turned off for a second, then flicked back on. The leprechaun was being throttled.
"You idiot, it was on in the first place... oh wait, that means it's on now. Ahem. This is Chip Sinton, Lord of the Leprechauns. I'm sending a critical message that will determine the future of our universe."
"Does it involve the 'Junkies'?"
"Oh good. At least one person's getting this message."
"Penguin actually."
"Ah these are the penguins I'm speaking to? How's BananaLee doing?"
"These would be the Penguinskan Penguins. Not the Lightbulbs. We work for Iggy- who's in fine health, as far as I know."
"Excellent. So yes, this does involve the Junction. We propose an alliance of all NESers and their affiliates, to fight off those which seek to destroy us."
"Sounds like a solid strategy."
"No need for sarcasm. What say you?"
"As the only penguin of any meaningful rank available, I accept this offer of alliance. I'll forward your message to my superiors to try and get more ships."
"Jolly good. Chip out."
Tekk closed the screen and looked outside. The heavy firepower of the Icetitan was devastating the enemy. And more Icetitan-class ships were jumping into the battle from the other dimensions.
The battle would soon be won. But the war was just beginning."
Hakk spun around at the noise.
"You! How did you get past my swarm of minions?"
"I believe it's called the 'Stormtrooper Effect'."
"I knew I should have just left one... but it's of no matter. I just have to come up with a good monologue before I kill Trik... oh to hell with it."
Hakk flung the knife at Trik, still attached to the spinning wheel on the wall. It bounced off, missing Trik by a few feet.
"Your aim needs work." snickered Gris, who had finally shaken himself loose of the ladder.
Hakk flung a knife back. It struck Tekk firmly in the metal portion of his head.
"Odd... I smell burnt toast..."
"It's called 'lulling him into a false sense of security', idiot. I'll just kill him now if you're just going to mock me." Hakk flung a second knife-
-to have it collide in midair with the knife which had previously been imbedded in Tekk's head.
"I'm very good with trajectories."
"Enough of thi-" began Hakk, when a massive shock threw all of the penguins into a wall. Trik's wheel detached from the wall and fell to the floor, with the penuin on the bottom.
"What was that?" asked Gris, first to his feet.
"Visual!" shouted Hakk. The walls of the entire weapons deck went transparent. All around the ship were hundreds- no, thousands of ships. Unfamiliar ships. Suddenly, a transmission began on the ship's intercom.
"Greetings- we are the forces of Civilization Junction. You may call us the Junkies. The universe will be purified of all but Civilization. Are you Civilization?"
"What the..."
"Response negative. Scans indicate NES presence. Mutation of Civilization. Impure. Prepare for annihilation."
The ship shook violently as the bombardment renewed.
"Return fire!" shouted Hakk, "All penguins to defensive battlestations! Commence evasive maneuvers!"
"That would be more effective if you had a functioning crew right now. You just fried Pikt's mind, and we knocked out most of your crew during our raid on the ship."
"I see..." Hakk noticed a wing stick weakly out from under the heavy wheel near the wall.
"What's your plan for Trik?" asked Gris.
"Change of priorities. I can kill him later. Or, you know, he could apologize."
The three were silent for a moment.
"Apologize? Trik?" asked Gris incredulously.
"Death it is then." sighed Hakk, "Anyway, does anyone here know how to fly this thing?"
"I thought you did."
"No, Pikt did that."
"Damn... well, I can handle the weapons systems."
"I'll cover the rest. Hakk... try to revive Pikt."
Hakk jogged off. Gris raced to the targeting computer and began pressing buttons.
"You don't know how to use these, do you?"
"I've always wanted too."
Tekk rolled his organic eye and pre-emptively sent out a distress call. Just as he finished, an Irish fellow flanked by Leprechauns appeared on the communications screen.
"Hello? Hellooooooo. Is this thing on?"
"Sorry sir, let me turn it on."
The image turned off for a second, then flicked back on. The leprechaun was being throttled.
"You idiot, it was on in the first place... oh wait, that means it's on now. Ahem. This is Chip Sinton, Lord of the Leprechauns. I'm sending a critical message that will determine the future of our universe."
"Does it involve the 'Junkies'?"
"Oh good. At least one person's getting this message."
"Penguin actually."
"Ah these are the penguins I'm speaking to? How's BananaLee doing?"
"These would be the Penguinskan Penguins. Not the Lightbulbs. We work for Iggy- who's in fine health, as far as I know."
"Excellent. So yes, this does involve the Junction. We propose an alliance of all NESers and their affiliates, to fight off those which seek to destroy us."
"Sounds like a solid strategy."
"No need for sarcasm. What say you?"
"As the only penguin of any meaningful rank available, I accept this offer of alliance. I'll forward your message to my superiors to try and get more ships."
"Jolly good. Chip out."
Tekk closed the screen and looked outside. The heavy firepower of the Icetitan was devastating the enemy. And more Icetitan-class ships were jumping into the battle from the other dimensions.
The battle would soon be won. But the war was just beginning."
Swissempire
Poet Jester
A Massive broadside laser blast knock Chip out of his comfortable, green and highly impractical Leader chair and on to Floor.
"Ooomph" Chip gasped, and got up and dusted himself off. "Sorry, Floor, didn't mean to fall on you."
The slightly squashed Leprechaun looked up, "Tis okay, Sir, I'll be fine."
Not bothering to help Floor onto his feet, Chip looked at the Tactical Map that was infront of him. The Battle with the Junkie Squadron who had appeared was raging fiercely. There was no way they would win this fight, but the objective had to be completed. Flipping open a tacky Razr ripoff cell phone, Chip mustered up his big, scary, authority figure voice and began to yell into the phone.
"I WANT A STATUS REPORT!!!!"
"Okay, sir, please hold" replied the sweet-voiced Leprechaun on the other line. Horrible music began to play. Uggh. If you think the music they play when you're on hold is bad, imagine if you had to listen to it while there was a huge space battle going on and you were in Space. Space has wierd effects on everything.
"Thank you for waiting sir, I'm transfering you to the Status update department now, please hold"
Another 5 minutes and Chip, the FREAKING SUPREME LEADER, was still waiting. Finally a voice came through.
"Hello, this is Status Update Services, how may i help you on this lovely day?"
Chip, indignant by now calmly but with an obvious undertone of anger repeated what he need.
"M'am, I...need...a...status....report...on....Peter...and...if...he...has....REACHED THE FREAKIN' OBJECTIVE!!!!!!!!"
"Alrighty then, sir, I'll process your request and find you what you need. I'll call you back in 10-45 minutes." And she hung up.
Chip threw the phone accross the room and it shattered on Floor.
"Ouch" remarked the oddly named Leprechaun.
"Sorry"
"Tis okay sir."
Chip began pacing. He had to do something, he didn't have 10-45 minutes.
"I need to think of a plan in the next 5 minutes or we're toooooooooSH*T"
A Massive explosion ripped through the hull armor and the breach alarms were sounding. Chip sprinted back to his chair and pressed the emergency escape button. His chair jettisoned down 800 Feet and landed inside his specially designed Escape Fighter.
Chip gave a sigh of relief and began flipping switches. Most of them didn't do anything, but he had had them installed because he like to flip them. The engine flared to life and Chip shot off into the space battle. Weaving and Dipping and Dodging, Chip managed to see his Capital ship explode into a thousand little pieces.
to be continued
"Ooomph" Chip gasped, and got up and dusted himself off. "Sorry, Floor, didn't mean to fall on you."
The slightly squashed Leprechaun looked up, "Tis okay, Sir, I'll be fine."
Not bothering to help Floor onto his feet, Chip looked at the Tactical Map that was infront of him. The Battle with the Junkie Squadron who had appeared was raging fiercely. There was no way they would win this fight, but the objective had to be completed. Flipping open a tacky Razr ripoff cell phone, Chip mustered up his big, scary, authority figure voice and began to yell into the phone.
"I WANT A STATUS REPORT!!!!"
"Okay, sir, please hold" replied the sweet-voiced Leprechaun on the other line. Horrible music began to play. Uggh. If you think the music they play when you're on hold is bad, imagine if you had to listen to it while there was a huge space battle going on and you were in Space. Space has wierd effects on everything.
"Thank you for waiting sir, I'm transfering you to the Status update department now, please hold"
Another 5 minutes and Chip, the FREAKING SUPREME LEADER, was still waiting. Finally a voice came through.
"Hello, this is Status Update Services, how may i help you on this lovely day?"
Chip, indignant by now calmly but with an obvious undertone of anger repeated what he need.
"M'am, I...need...a...status....report...on....Peter...and...if...he...has....REACHED THE FREAKIN' OBJECTIVE!!!!!!!!"
"Alrighty then, sir, I'll process your request and find you what you need. I'll call you back in 10-45 minutes." And she hung up.
Chip threw the phone accross the room and it shattered on Floor.
"Ouch" remarked the oddly named Leprechaun.
"Sorry"
"Tis okay sir."
Chip began pacing. He had to do something, he didn't have 10-45 minutes.
"I need to think of a plan in the next 5 minutes or we're toooooooooSH*T"
A Massive explosion ripped through the hull armor and the breach alarms were sounding. Chip sprinted back to his chair and pressed the emergency escape button. His chair jettisoned down 800 Feet and landed inside his specially designed Escape Fighter.
Chip gave a sigh of relief and began flipping switches. Most of them didn't do anything, but he had had them installed because he like to flip them. The engine flared to life and Chip shot off into the space battle. Weaving and Dipping and Dodging, Chip managed to see his Capital ship explode into a thousand little pieces.
to be continued
LittleBoots
The Bloody Banner
- Joined
- Jul 25, 2006
- Messages
- 1,979
Squirrel Orders
- Ridiculous amounts of breeding on the Nuns planet; relocation of Nuns to monastery camps
- heavy industrialization of everything
- Ridiculous amounts of breeding on the Nuns planet; relocation of Nuns to monastery camps
- heavy industrialization of everything
knigh+
.
The minds watched as two giant blobs of goo rose out of the ocean, each with hundreds of brains inside. The goo, held together by psychic energy of the minds inside, psychokinetically levitated higher and higher. In a few minutes they were high enough to be out of sight, but tuned minds could sense each other even over such distances.
"The concentrators have done well" thought the Mastermind. They have amplified the thoughts of the contemplators and realized their designs, in the form of these spherical blobs. Philosophers said non-psychic species would have to construct solid structures to contain life support. The concentrators used tought for this purpose.
The Mastermind wondered what the contemplators were up to next. It tapped into their minds to observe. These first two blobs were designed to stay spherical (or ellipsoidal if need be), the next ones would have ability to shoot globules of corrosive ooze, and extend pseudopods to provide wider angles to shoot these. They had to have a blob that was not only for space exploration, but could also defend the planet, to satisfy the paranoia of the opponents of space exploration.
Next, it think-dropped on the philosophers for a while. They were discussing what is the efficient way to cover a dry planet in ooze, in case they decide to live on a new planet.
The near future seemed interesting.
-----------------
Orders: make two exploration blobs (ships) and send them to the nearest planets (Unexplored A, and Capello Grande). Anybody they encounter will be greeted with the telepathic message "We are the collective mind. We come in peace. We wish to learn about your species"
Also train more concentrators (industry)
"The concentrators have done well" thought the Mastermind. They have amplified the thoughts of the contemplators and realized their designs, in the form of these spherical blobs. Philosophers said non-psychic species would have to construct solid structures to contain life support. The concentrators used tought for this purpose.
The Mastermind wondered what the contemplators were up to next. It tapped into their minds to observe. These first two blobs were designed to stay spherical (or ellipsoidal if need be), the next ones would have ability to shoot globules of corrosive ooze, and extend pseudopods to provide wider angles to shoot these. They had to have a blob that was not only for space exploration, but could also defend the planet, to satisfy the paranoia of the opponents of space exploration.
Next, it think-dropped on the philosophers for a while. They were discussing what is the efficient way to cover a dry planet in ooze, in case they decide to live on a new planet.
The near future seemed interesting.
-----------------
Orders: make two exploration blobs (ships) and send them to the nearest planets (Unexplored A, and Capello Grande). Anybody they encounter will be greeted with the telepathic message "We are the collective mind. We come in peace. We wish to learn about your species"
Also train more concentrators (industry)
Nylan
Characters Welcome
From: Metal Heads
To: Universe
Subject: CivJunkies
ANARCHY!!!!!
We thrive in this sort of environment
(special bonus for the occasion: Metal Heads double in production and population 
)
We have heard of these so called "OT" forums, and observing them has resulted in an increased interest in Punk Rock music
Rawsome, eh?
To: Universe
Subject: CivJunkies
ANARCHY!!!!!
We thrive in this sort of environment
(special bonus for the occasion: Metal Heads double in production and population )We have heard of these so called "OT" forums, and observing them has resulted in an increased interest in Punk Rock music
Rawsome, eh?
Abaddon
Deity
Duanab Orders:
See if squirrel skin can be used for hats since there seems to be no camels..
See if squirrel skin can be used for hats since there seems to be no camels..
Abaddon
Deity
Mewtonia Orders:
Attack the Highland cattle, and enslave some for milk production.
Attack the Highland cattle, and enslave some for milk production.
