>Rich: Server hunt.
You certainly try, but to no avail. It seems as though all your FRIENDS are a bit busy either NOT DYING or NOT BEING ONLINE. The nerve! Well, nothing you can do about it. You instead decide to check on Greg. You wonder if he's gotten himself into any trOH YOUR LORD HE IS MUTILATING THINGS.
>watch the carnage unfold.
M-maybe you should help? Just like throw a BOOK or something? Those poor imps, you can at least even the odds. Oh? Nope. Too late. He's done. okay, well at least now you can give him a piece of your mind. Or, no, looks like Chas has decided to grace you with his online presence. Mannnn.
Answer ~*GLORIOUS LEADER*~.
Oh well. Maybe he can at least provide some answers.
<spoiler=Show pesterlog>color=#005500]SS: rich, you will not forking believe what has transpired over the past several hours.[/color]
SS: long story short:
SS: i have laser eyes.
SS: also, the entirety of texas has been blown up.
SS: i have no idea what stage of this game you're on.
TC: I... you... Laser eyes.
SS: it is my leaderly duty to check.
SS: yeah, i'm pretty much the best.
SS: you have no idea how much i forking own at this.
SS: i even made a csi pun.
TC: Why... I...I just got Greg in.
SS: good, good, excellent.
SS: are you in the medium yet?
TC: Not yet. Been checking on some candidates.
TC: Thy're surprisingly sparse during the end times.
SS: yes, they are.
SS: let's see.
SS: according to my charts...
TC: You have charts.
SS: let's say i have charts for the purpose of leadership.
SS: okay, so, the charts tell me absolutely nothing about your server player.
SS: you're on your own on that one.
SS: so let me give you a quick briefing on what's going down.
TC: Go for it.
SS: we are a team of seven heroes, kicking ass and taking names.
SS: samurai, if you will.
SS: the village we are saving is called the battlefield and it's where all this bullshit is going down between light and darkness.
SS: do you know what a sprite is?
TC: Kind of? from what I gather, it's a stalkerish ghost that stares at you.
SS: okay, yes, that would be the creepy floating ball thing.
SS: here's what we're doing.
SS: there's two kings and two queens.
SS: eventually, all seven of us will be on the battlefield after all this gate bullshit.
SS: if the dark king kills the light king, which he inevitably will, we lose.
SS: everyone dies.
SS: boo hoo the end.
SS: the kings gain the properties of our prototypings.
SS: so right now, he's a mechanized giant robot with a rockin' scarf.
SS: or to my knowledge.
SS: i haven't kept my charts filled on prototypings.
SS: so basically, keep your future prototypings lame.
SS: if you don't want to fight it, don't prototype!
TC: Okay, so basically just throw in, like, a sock or something. Got it.
SS: perfect.
SS: shape it into a puppet or something so it can talk.
SS: that sprite is also your guide or whatever.
SS: second, we want to be as alive as possible for this.
SS: so you should get into the medium.
SS: or else you're dead.
SS: really dead.
SS: this may be a lot to take in, but whatever, i got used to it when i discovered i could shoot lasers from my eyes.
TC: I would make a snide comment, but I just watched my friend mutilate a gang of imps.
SS: greg killed something?
SS: he can do that?
TC: I know, right??
SS: i kind of always thought of him as a really calm guy.
TC: Dude goes apeshit bananas, apparently.
SS: wow.
TC: anyway. Laser vision. Is that a thing that just, like, happens?
SS: yeah, just kind of walked around.
SS: i guess they manifest when you're in trouble.
SS: i was just like
SS: hey, take this you big forking ogre.
SS: ogres are a thing, by the way.
SS: they will fork your shit up.
TC: Well of course.
SS: so i was just walloping on it with my laser fork.
SS: which i also have.
SS: experimental salesman bullshit.
TC: Why wouldn't you?
SS: and then suddenly.
SS: i shot lasers out of my pupils.
SS: i think it's a sign.
SS: that i am really goddamn cool.
SS: speaking of that.
SS: i just did, like, a slow-mo walk to david bowie's fade.
SS: funky enough to blow up the universe.
SS: *fame
SS: oh man i am so excited i can't even type straight.
TC: Because they play bowie in there?
SS: no, no.
SS: i play bowie in here.
SS: in the land of the blind, the man with the laser eyes is emperor.
SS: i think i've filled you in pretty well. i am simply the best at leadership.
TC: Consider me informed, o captain my captain.
SS: i'm so glad you're not a smartass like dirk.
SS: between you and me, we're really the ones with our shit together.
TC: Of course. Who am I to question the glorious leader
TC: ?
SS: or really between you, me, and dirk, because he can admittedly lay some smack down.
SS: OH ONE MORE THING
SS: aliens are real.
SS: minor at this point.
SS: but there's some weird troll dudes going around.
TC: Yeah, no. I pretty much figured.
SS: one's a chick and she's the maiden of something.
SS: she wants to be rescued from someplace.
SS: and she's a politician or something?
TC: Well at least she is good at giving information.
SS: and then i haven't talked to the other one but he's obsessed with being a rustblood or whatever.
SS: red blood is apparently a big forking deal.
SS: so if you're pestered by these folks just remember who filled you in.
SS: (it was me. i filled you in.)
TC: Oh, man, does that guy just go around yelling 'rustblood' at everyone?
SS: evidently.
SS: and he's poor.
SS: like, really poor.
TC: Well he'd pretty much have to be
TC: With all the rust in his bnlood.
TC: Lockjaw central.
SS: i mean, like, according to what i've gathered, the man is not only poor.
SS: he is flat broke.
SS: literally penniless.
TC: Then... how does he get internet...?
SS: he's an alien!
TC: Oh, right.
SS: wait, that's a really good question.
SS: texas blew up.
SS: how do i have internet.
SS: i guess the medium is made of internet?
TC: I guess that wouldn't be the most improbable thing I've heard today.
SS: i'm just cutting out the sprite middle-man.
SS: or, well, cutting out the sprite and inserting myself as the other man.
SS: mostly because dirk is busy and i honestly have nothing better to do than make a boat for the survivors of the apocalypse out of a bathtub.
TC: You're cutting the man who was supposed to be the middleman, to become the middleman yourself.
SS: it's a sales thing, you wouldn't understand.
TC: Because ~*GLORIOUS LEADERSHIP*~
SS: exactly.
SS: you are so good at this.
SS: see, i had this big scheme to kill time.
SS: fill in the others.
SS: first beth, then you, then xavier.
TC: OH yeah?
SS: once everyone's in the loop i can figure out what this gate shit does.
SS: honestly, this game just sort of makes stuff up as it goes along.
SS: the only logical certainty is that i have laser eyes.
TC: This is a good thing to hear.
SS: i could probably solo the final boss by shooting a laser through its torso.
SS: everyone take the day off, i am great.
TC: I'm being so hopeful right now, you don't even know.
SS: you must be like the prince of hope or something.
TC: I am the duke thrice removed of hope.
SS: and also the best subordinate ever.
SS: so submissive.
SS: it's marvelous.
SS: empowering.
TC: Yeah, no, all submissive here.
SS: you've really done a lot for me this conversation.
SS: i was doubting my status as universal leader, but then you assured me that i was simply the best there was.
SS: thank you, rich.
SS: it means so much.
TC: Any time, Chas. ;T
TC: Oh, my bad.
TC: ;P
SS: that t face looks like it'd be pretty hard to make.
SS: now then, time has been a-wasting.
TC: Yes. Yes it has. I gotta go Server huntin'.
SS: fulfill your destiny or something.
TC: Yes, sir!
SS: that's my boy.
Well that's just wonderful. Dude's GOD COMPLEX has REAWAKENED. At least you got the LOWDOWN on what's going on. In all your chatting, it seems as though Greg has started MEDITATING again. You take this opportunity to start THROWING THINGS at imps. It should amuse you until Greg wakes up or someone comes online. Either or.
>Hear uncle
Uh oh. the imp/Greg's house abuse will have to WAIT. You rush down the STAIRS, Towards your UNCLE's screaming. He isn't usually the type to get riled up. You wonder how you will explain. IF you could explain. Probably not. You're not very good at comforting.