Bio Armoire Quest

>>812865
Is that you? You consider screaming once more, until you hear the stamping of boots from somewhere above you, signaling a rush of panic that forces some much-needed adrenaline into your system. Spotting something white amidst the ruined bits and pieces of the body, you outstretch a blood-drenched claw to grab it and bring it close to your face.

[Debra Wasserman Schultz.]

Looking at the oozing carnage on the ground, you guess that this mess belongs to this “Debra” individual. Flipping the card, you notice a strange sequence of numbers and letters that seem familiar, but you can’t really put them together in your head.

[DNC Chair 2020]

What could this mean? What does ANY of this mean?

You aren’t allowed to think about it, however, as a full squad of armed soldiers fan into the room, barely sparing a glance at the horrific carnage on the ground and the fresh paint job on the walls and ceiling. Showing impressive discipline in the face of such insanity, they surround you in seconds, their rifles trained on you as they move. You count at least fifteen or so men, armed to the teeth and dressed in pitch-black armor, only a slight shade lighter than the nightmare black you wear yourself.

They seem to be waiting for you to make a move, and that really brings up a serious question for you to answer. How ARE you going to react?

>Panicked

>Hostile

>Calm

>>812868
>Calm

>>812868
>Calm

>>812877
>>812884
Alright, called for Calm.

Writing starts now, expect in 30 or so.

>>812868
>>Panicked

>>812920

Composing yourself, you stand up straight and put your hands into the air in a clear declaration of neutrality. After a few seconds, the soldier the farthest from you lowers his rifle and immediately the rest of the soldiers follow suit. Approaching the clear leader, you keep your hands on the back of your head and tilt your head to try and talk, only now realizing the size difference between the two of you.

You must be a head or two taller than these men, and they must be massive in comparison to the average human, sheer giants of muscle and determination. Coughing into a fit as you try to speak, you manage to stabilize your voice in front of the leader, who by now has taken his helmet off in an effort to maintain a degree of trust between you and the squad.

“Excuse me, sir, but might I ask you a question?” you ask, the deep growl of your voice clicking on and off like the chittering of an insect.

The leader, a blond-haired man with a chiseled chin and a slight scar across his meaty cheek, seems surprised at the politeness of your inquiry and raises an eyebrow.

“Uh…okay,” he says with a puzzled look on his face, “Ask away.”

You frown or approximate the closest thing to one you can with your face resembling a ravenous beetle and all.

“Do you know who I am? Or who Debra Wasserman Schultz is? And who exactly are you?”

The soldier nearly smiles, and instead of answering your questions, pulls out a small mic from his helmet and begins to talk into it. “Subject has been found. So far, cooperative and docile. Seems to be affected by memory loss of some sort.”

While you wait impatiently, the man listens in on some private conversation, the ring of soldiers around you only getting tighter as they grip their rifles just as tightly as they did coming in.

“Alright, friend. I have orders to take you in, we’ll get you your answers in due time, okay?” he says as he plops his helmet back onto his face and takes out a pair of glowing handcuffs. “If you’re coming with us, you’ll need to be restrained for the time being. No way out of it, I’m afraid.”

Gritting your teeth, you clench your fists and notice the chitin around your arms beginning to harden in response to the physical trauma. “And…what if I don’t agree?” you say slowly, conveying the distrust you have for these men in an instant.”

The soldier taps the barrel of his rifle, and the rest of his squad brings their rifles upon you.

“Orders were to bring you in, dead or alive. Command doesn’t care much for which, I’m afraid. So what’ll it be?”

>Tear them to pieces. (Initiate Action Chain)

>Put the cuffs on and follow them.

>Barrel through them, escape.

>>813063
>Put the cuffs on and follow them.

>>813063
>>Barrel through them, escape

>>813063
>Tear them to pieces. (Initiate Action Chain)

>>813063
>Barrel through them, escape.

>>813063
>put the cuffs on and follow him

>>813063
>Tear them to pieces. (Initiate Action Chain)

>>813063
Switching to RIP AND TEAR
So we can move along.

>>813063
Eh, fuck these mooks. Tear em to pieces.

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Going to eat dinner.

Will be back in 40-60 mins depending.

If you haven't already, drop your vote in for actions.

Be right back, folks!

>>813207
Well, if we can shoot death tentacles like in that picture, let's do that!

>>813063
>Put the cuffs on and follow them.
They seem polite, why do you want to kill them?

Can't we just be Pillar Men? They have everything.

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Vote won for fight.

Importing action chain rules: READ THIS SHIT

3d10 for each action. Offensive actions have slightly higher DC than defensive actions. DC will be determined by the difficulty of action done, for example, slashing a dude is easier than ripping his spine out and beating another guy to death with it.

DC will be modified by small factors like [Tired] or [Stunned], etc that can be created or removed in battle.

Every +2 of a roll past the DC of an action is converted into +1 for a failed DC of another action.

For example, if the DC is 12 and you roll 18, then your next failed roll (9 when you need 12) will have +3 added to it, thus passing the previously failed check.


------------------
MC: Bio Armoire

Ability: Superhuman speed, reflexes, durability due to biological armor that hardens in response to physical trauma. Can manipulate biological armor, IE: extend or shorten spikes over body to make a sword or claw/hammer. Tentacles, just fucking imagine prototype at this point.

Foe: Fifteen Spec Ops

Ability: Top human fitness, strength and reflexes. Rifles loaded with AP, enough rounds can eventually do serious damage. Armor highly effective against small arms, will not protect in melee at your level of power. Have grenades, if tossed, you will be notified. Positioned in a circle around you at the moment.


-----------------

Five actions alotted. You will have the first action without them reacting due to your speed.

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>>813454
To avoid clusterfuck, ya'll need to agree on a set of actions at once, and then I'll tell you when to roll.

Good luck.

>>813454
>Use armor to make tentacles and murder the soldiers closest to us
>Form a shield with the armor on our left arm.
>Close distance to soldiers using our shield for protection until they're in tentacle range
>Tentacle Murder
Ad infinitum until they all die.


Is this good?

>>813479
Seconding

>>813454
Well, since we seem to be strong enough, how about we collapse the ceiling on em? or at least charge through em to disorient them? Then pick em off with Weapon arms depending on how they arm grouped up.

>>813479
To confirm, is this the action sequence agreed upon?

>>813644
It seems that way. I voted collapsing the ceiling but he got more votes. So yep.

>>813644
Also, good Manga to use the images for the quest on. I liked the Armors and enemies.

Right then, going to need four rolls of 3d10 (last roll is redundant in this action.)

Rolled 9, 7, 7 = 23 (3d10)

>>813720

Rolled 3, 9, 9 = 21 (3d10)

>>813720

Rolled 7, 5, 2 = 14 (3d10)

>>813720

Rolled 8, 1, 8 = 17 (3d10)

>>813720

Right, we've got our four rolls!

Will begin calculations and the last update for the night. Will resume tomorrow after that.

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>>813454
Bio Armoire

>>814022
I'm addressing that later...shhh

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Reacting so quickly that time seems to slow down, you raise your fist and mentally peel away at your solid form with by using the same technique you used to awaken yourself. Roaring in fury, your arm ceases to become solid flesh, instead melding together to form a sickening mass of midnight black chitinous liquid. As the rifles of the soldiers begin to raise and fingers press against triggers, you focus on your arm and the liquid coalesces into a horrific bladed tentacle of chitin. Swinging it in a circle, you catch five of the slowest soldiers with a furious blow, shredding them to pieces and sending them flying apart in a shower of flesh and blood.

Hearing a series of gunfire behind you, you stagger as a concentrated wave of bullets pushes you and tear at your blackened carapace. Raising up your other arm, you repeat the process, this time molding it into the shape of a solid square mass. Facing your foes, you place it in front of you and use it as a shield as you slowly push against the hail of fire slowly tearing pieces of chitin apart.

While charging, a properly placed shot smashes against your face, causing you to freeze and feel out the wound with your tentacle arm. Instead of finding a chunk torn out, you only feel a slight weakening in the chitin, and your panic abates. Spurred onto even greater fury by this, you redouble your efforts, and corner the rest of the squad against the wall of the room. With nowhere to run and no time to reload, some switch to their pistols while others prepare to reach for their grenades or combat knives.

You spare them the panic that accompanies the realization of doom, as you tear into the crowd of soldiers with an almost sickening glee. Crushing them to pieces with gargantuan hammer blows with your shield arm, and lashing and flaying flesh with your tentacle-arm, you reduce them to gory paste and bones.

Caving in the head of an unfortunate soldier and watching his brains flush out of his skull cavity, then turning to his partner and jamming your tentacle arm through his organs, whirling like a drill and shredding his insides before dumping him to the ground, they don’t stand a chance in close combat.

A brave bastard with a combat knife charges up at you and manages to land a fierce blow to the side of your face, finding out too late, however, that the attack had no effect. Opening your mandibles, you take a few seconds to crunch your razor-sharp teeth into his throat, mincing and pulping his neck in an instant.

>>814116
[YOU ARE IN CONTROL]

For the first time since you’ve woken up, you feel…happy? Content? Maybe words aren’t able to express it properly. What’s most important is that, for some, strange, twisted reason, you feel the most at home in the carnage of battle.

As you use your tentacle arm to literally pull one of the last soldiers apart, you see two soldiers standing alone against the second crimson paint job the room’s been given. Staring back at you, one draws his sidearm and places it against the dome of his head. Before you can even move, he pulls the trigger and adds the contents of his skull alongside the other victims of battle on the ground. The second man is profoundly unluckier, as he only gets to placing the gun properly against his skull as you pin his arm down against the wall with a tremendous swing from your shield.

Screaming in pain and no longer stoic as the last man standing from his squad, he begins to panic and scream in horror at you, which you can’t really fault him for. You assume you must look like quite the mess at the moment.

Now the next important question arises. Is keeping this man alive worth the trouble? Does he have anything you might need?

>Kill him

>Spare him

Aaaand that's the last update of the day.

I won't be back for the next however long, but I'll be back at some point today.

Have a good one folks!

>>814117
>Kill him

>>814117
>write in
Fookin book it before the grenades the other now dead soldiers where priming goes off.

>>814117
>Kill him.

>>814117
>Spare him

We are not barbarians, even if we prefer to end threats with +OVERWHELMING+ power.

>>814117
>spare him
Even if he's just a grunt, he knows more than we do.

Carry him out, and interrogate later.

>>814117
>Kill him

But we really should do a quick interrogation to get info first.


But really this is all the soldier's fault.
I mean why the fuck would they lead in negotiations with "we don't care if we take you dead or alive" I mean that's just asking to get slaughtered.

>>814117
>write-in
become a piece of furniture

>>815871
This, we must blend into our suroundings

>>814117
>spare him
We have a lack of information and he might be useful.

You open your jaws and smile at the terrified soldier, who becomes dangerously close to wetting his pants if the slight stain by his crotch is anything to go by. Tightening your grip on his arm, you crush even more bones, only increasing the blood leaking out of it by the second.

“Tell me what you know, and I’ll make it quick and painless.” You growl out impatiently, reforming your other arm back to its basic shape with a quick stretch.

“Okay, okay! Look, we were just told to hunt down an escaped asset! Command didn’t tell us shit!” he manages to stutter out in a stream of words borne by fear.

Escaped asset? What the fuck does “asset” mean?

“Shut up and answer my questions when I ask, got it.” You snarl as you put your other hand on his neck, digging sharply into his skin and drawing blood. He smartly shuts his trap and you think for a few seconds about what you want to ask him.

“Who was Debra Wasserman Schultz, what is the DNC?”

“Uh, important lady for the DNC. DNC being the Democratic National Convention, which, by the way, is happening tomorrow on the upper floor.”

“That doesn’t tell me shit, buddy. What the fuck is a Democratic National Convention.”

“Uh, politics?”

The word shouldn’t bring up memories for some reason, but it actually does ring in your mind, some forgotten fragments of your memory are shaken loose by the word.

“Politics…politics…” you say as you test the word out between your bloody mandibles. At that instant, a memory manages to flash into your mind, fuzzy and sepia.
----------------

You remember yourself sitting in a dark room, completely black except for a stray lightbulb suspended above a weathered wooden desk in the middle of the room. Stuck sitting by the desk, you flinch as a shadowy figure moves from the opposite end and approaches you, standing at the very edge of the light, preventing you from seeing any facial features.

A gloved hand slides a photograph onto the desk in front of you, fluttering slightly as it ends its movement in front of your face. A woman, by the looks of it, but you can never really tell just by looks these days, with a blue-colored button in the shape of a wardrobe pinned to her shirt. Under the image, the words roll out in black sharpie marker, “Debra Wasserman Schultz.”

“Your target,” the shadowy man, you can tell by his voice now, says to you from his corner with a slight New York accent, “is this individual. Dispose of with maximum force, make sure to get rid of the body. Return here when you are done.” With that, that same gloved hand takes out a small remote from somewhere and presses a button. Immediately blinding pain surges through your head and you pass out, to hear the chittering of insects once more.

------------

(1/2)

>>822112
Returning to your senses in the present time, rage flows through your veins, and you struggle not to squish your prisoner like a bug as you fight to control yourself. “Who’s in charge, where can I find them!” you snarl as at the pinned soldier.

“B-bernie Sanders! Upstairs in the main office!” he screams as you tighten the grip around his neck, piercing some of your talons through his flesh.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” You say as you snap his neck like a twig and throw his body away. Looking up at the stairs, you almost tear your way through them in anger until the buzzing noise returns to your head, and you feel a deep hunger as you look at the bodies of the slain.

----------------
Choose an upgrade before proceeding.

>Titan Chitin (Stronger, tougher, even more monstrous than before)

>Acidic Flame (Breathe acid)

>Metal Swarm (Create metal scarabs from your own flesh)
(2/2)

>>822118
Titan chitin

>>822118
>Titan Chitin (Stronger, tougher, even more monstrous than before)
I guess we're feeling the Bern.

Right, gonna be back in 30mins.

Want to finish this tonight, so I need ya'll to stick around for the next couple hours.

Some crazy shit is gonna happen.

>>822388
ded?

>>822624
Sorry update prep and stuff, need to have all this planned out and shit.

ETA 10 MINS or less

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You wake up in a daze, and as you shake your head, you notice the distinct lack of bodies in the once-again familiar room. You do, however, notice two rather new details.

One, the half-chewed leg between your mandibles and the covering your entire frame in blood from various openings in the skin. The second, your massive new form, formed of even blacker chitin than before and with razor sharp spines jutting out at random intervals. You guess you must be at least seven or eight feet tall now, and you feel strong enough to throw an entire building at will.

With thunderous, bounding steps, you climb the steps out from the basement with ease, and you find yourself on the floor of a great gathering of people. The floor of the national convention, you assume, as the crowd of fancily dressed drones flutter about like bees around a hive, doing nothing important in particular.

Hiding in the shadows, you wait until you see a reporter hefting a mic walk by, before stepping into the light and nabbing the bastard with an outstretched arm. Choking him with ease, your spikes pierce his fancy suit in several places, leaving bleeding holes and staining the floor red. “Where in the world,” you whisper to him in a low growl, “is Bernie Sanders?”

Voiding his bowels, the man struggles before you loosen your grip and allow him to gasp for air for a few seconds. “Up there,” he pants out as he points at another flight of stairs leading upwards. “Thank you kindly,” you say as you grab his neck and twist, shattering his spinal cord and accidentally eviscerating his entire upper torso. As you use his suit to wipe off the newest of your bloody paintjobs, you guess you should have used a little less force, what with your new form and all.

Watching both ends of the floor for prying eyes, you sprint into the staircase going to the second floor as a blur, making any bystanders second guess themselves.

Entering the second floor, you walk through an open auditorium until you see two figures standing by the door to the next room. Dressed in a suit and tie, the two are the same height, and share some strange looking mask on them. Drawing their knives as they watch your approach, they both laugh heartily, almost as if they think you’re a joke. It boils your blood, it does.

“We’ve been waiting for you, S.” The closer of the two says as he draws out an enormous knife before stretching his arms and legs out.

(1/2)

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>>822824
“We can sympathize with your situation, but the fact of the matter is, you aren’t getting any closer to Sanders. Now you can either come quietly and be reprogrammed, or we’re going to have problems. The farther back of the two says as he takes out a shockingly modern switchblade, flipping the blade open with a press of a button.

You bring your fists together and shake the room with a thunderous clash of your knuckles, before beating your chest with them.

You can’t tell from the masks, but the body language of the two reveals two pleased warriors as they tense their muscles and split their movements to surround you.

“So be it.” One of them says, you don’t really bother telling which one as you loosen your mind and prepare for a fight.

>ACTION PHASE

[Two masked men in suits and armed with large knives, you feel they are much more dangerous than they appear. That being said, you can’t tell what they’re going to do until you begin yourself. One is behind you, and the other in front.]

>MAP OUT YOUR ACTION PLAN

>FIVE ACTIONS ALOTTED.

No surprise bonus this time, they know exactly who and what you are.

(2/2)

>>822827
>Smash the floor in to drop these suckers down, and to generate rubble.
>Use rubble as ranged weapons
>Close the gap if they remain alive and attempt to "disarm" those suckers
Thats all the plan i need
Honestly a one floor drop is probably solid enough alone

Looks like I'll have to be back.

If anybody else is stopping by, post and etc while I'm gone.

>>822893
Roll four 3d10.

But given the player count, I'm allowing anybody to roll four times at this point.

Rolled 10, 2, 7 = 19 (3d10)

>>823399

Rolled 5, 1, 2 = 8 (3d10)

>>823399

Rolled 5, 2, 2 = 9 (3d10)

>>823399

Rolled 10, 5, 9 = 24 (3d10)

>>823399

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Before those two bastards can react, you bring your fists together and smash them straight downwards into the floor. Collapsing the floor, the entire auditorium level sinks below the surface and creating an avalanche of rubble. Landing on a poor suited drone, you chuckle as you move your body off of the splattered mess and bones. Least he didn’t feel much before he exploded, you think to yourself as you scan your eyes across the dust in the air from the collapse. Hearing footsteps, you inhale and exhale a mighty gust to clear the air in front of you, eliminating the dust and restoring visibility, visibility of your two foes coming at you, of course.

Gripping some massive pieces of rubble, you throw them with titanic force at the two, expecting them to explode into giblets from the impact. To your surprise, the pair manage to dodge the projectiles and displaying plainly inhuman speed and reflexes as they continue their charge.

As they come into reach you extend your arms to catch them, or at the very least their weapons, but the speed difference between the two prevents you from doing even that. Raking long furrows in your chitin, the twin blades dig deep enough to cause you pain, a new sensation in this body of yours. Leaping backwards with a roar, you note that around some of the cuts, some blueish liquid, probably your blood, is visibly dripping out.

With twin cries, your enemies turn their momentum around and attempt another cross-up slash, but this time, you’re ready for them. Correctly judging their speed and predicting their movements, you catch their hands and twist. Tearing their weapon arms free of their bodies, you laugh as you throw both appendages away, your mandibles clicking and chattering in joy.

Grimacing, the masked men back off and draw out longer knives, you’d technically call these swords, really, and holding them in their remaining hands with practiced maneuvers.

“I feel the need,” you say as you lick some stray blood off of your right arm, “to feed, your flesh would suffice but I desire the taste of your boss.”

“Then come and get it!” the masked man on your left says in a furious growl.

>Next action phase go!

>Pick up a long object that can be easily used in one hand
>When they get close, use a sweeping horizontal attack to force these dodgy fucks to go aerial, or smash them up if you get lucky
>Use their lack of air mobility during that moment to slice them in half with your free arm
>Go on the defensive if this fails, avoid being hit

>>826064
Need four 3d10s

Doesn't really matter who does, just need four rolls.

Rolled 9, 4, 7 = 20 (3d10)

>>826408

Rolled 8, 7, 3 = 18 (3d10)

>>826408

Rolled 2, 4, 1 = 7 (3d10)

>>826408

Rolled 2, 6, 8 = 16 (3d10)

>>826408

>>826408
dice+3d10

>>826654
Well I tried.

Will be back tomorrow, sorry for the delay.

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>>813454
>that hardens in response to physical trauma.

Grabbing a nearby pillar of rebar, you sharpen the end by slashing it with your claw and biting bits of it off. Noticing your attention directed elsewhere, the twins charge you, screaming their defiance through their masks.

Flicking your head in their direction, you swing the pillar with lethal force at them, completely tearing one of them apart and forcing the other twin to leap into the air. Lurching upwards, he forces his knife downwards at you in a lethal strike guided by his momentum, but you see this coming a mile away.

Slashing at him with your free hand, you score a horrific gash across his chest as he descends on you, spewing blood and cloth in a shower from above. Backing away from his knife swing, you catch it on your weapon and leap backward, laughing at his plight.

Howling through his mask, the remaining twin breathes heavily and clutches his wound, rapidly bleeding out and demoralized at the loss of his compatriot. You grin at this, your mandibles chattering out your mirth and angering your opponent.

“It’s over, friend. You and your brother have lost, now sit down and die quietly, save me the trouble.”

The little shit refuses, brandishes his knife, and limps at you with his other hand wrapped around the bloody mess that is his chest.

Maybe he wants it that way.

>How do you want to kill him?

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>>834453
Let him stab us, keep it there for a minute and then wrap out mass around him and consume.

>>834453
Morph your arm around him to constrict his movements, then rip him in half. Consume him after

>>834453
Eat him alive