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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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>> No.48782669 [View]

>>48782631
I think I will let Urist speak for this one.

>> No.47602780 [View]

>>47602767
Somewhat to your surprise, Compa's frown turns upside-down almost immediately, and she relaxes just a little. "Good. Apology accepted," she replies, looking like absolutely nothing is wrong with the world, now that you've fessed up.

You can't help but eye her. Armok help you, she... reminds you of Mojang. Just a little, because you're reasonably sure your surrogate little sister has more brains in her. Well... fine. Now that that's out of the way, you growl, she's a friend of Neptune, right? You think she mentioned Compa once or twice.

"Mmhmm!" Compa nods cheerily, sitting down across from you. Without really thinking about it, you hand her one of your flasks; she accepts without really thinking about it, either. "She's one of my very best friends. She's a handful sometimes, but Nep-Nep's a nice person when you get right down to it!" she says, with a completely straight face. Compa sips from the flask before continuing. "You're one of Neptune's friends too, right?"

Right. You're /absolutely/ sure your surrogate little sister has more brains in her, now. Still, you can't help but envy Compa, just a little- it must be nice, having such a clear-cut view of the world, uncluttered by countless variables to keep track of. Just her, her friends, and... uh, that giant syringe of hers.

You take another swig from your flask before answering her question. Yeah, you're... probably Neptune's friend by now, since she seems like she's over that protagonist thing. Armok knows you've spent enough time in her bod- your /soul/ has spent enough time in her /body/, you correct yourself. Hell. You know Gamindustri is just waiting for you to fucking slip up so it can pin you with wacky misunderstandings later.

"... huh. I don't really get it, but... that's a yes, right? Well, she does get worked up over being the protagonist!" Compa takes another pull from the flask you've given her- before pausing and tilting her head, making a face. "Um... what is this?"

(Cont.)

>> No.45771917 [View]

>>45771417
>[X] [OH SHIT, THE SHARICITE]
>[X] [PLONKING DOWN THE PORTAL]

Oh shit, the sharicite.

... oh SHIT, the sharicite.

... ... oh shit, the SHARICITE.

For a few long moments, you clutch wordlessly at the air, and you find yourself teetering on the precipice between mind-numbing despair and all-consuming rage. You're certainly doomed without that sharicite keeping your fortress sane, and- while you have no proof- you're absolutely certain that NEPTUNE had something to do with this fucking mess-

And then a stray idea, absolutely insane and yet completely grounded in its own twisted logic, hits you hard enough to make you bark with laughter.

Muttering feverishly to yourself, you pace around the storage room, looking for an appropriate alcove. The hallway leading out to the drawbridge won't do, nor will any of the passageways leading anywhere /useful/, because you still want to keep using them in the future and not, say, completely shatter the usability of your fortress.

Eventually, you stumble upon a barely-started hallway, a 1x1 square that you'd dug out but hadn't had time to further delve into. Well, too bad, your hospital's gonna have to go somewhere else, because you're plonking your portal down right here, right now.

There's surprisingly little fanfare when you pull out the masterwork door made from impossible materials and fit it into the alcove. One moment there's nothing, and the next moment, a warm, pulsing glow illuminates the storage room, shining outward from Temptbleaches the Dutiful Chastity.

(Cont.)



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