The Chef looks close. "Hmm..." He takes off a glove, revealing a gray, cold, skinny claw. He places it in the hole, attempting to replace the part with Abyssal Ice. It won't melt, but it isn't any stronger than regular ice. If the part is purely mechanical, it should work properly until a replacement can be procured. In addition, it will apply some Abyssal power to the machine. Not a lot, but it can work as a kick-start.
He can hear the sounds of whirring machinery before it goes silent. The eyes of the machine open and instinctively reach towards the shoulder. They turn their head to you and focus their eyes. "The abyssal energy in this ice is enough to keep certain functions active, but I require my original power source to gain 100 percent motor function. A silver-tailed falcon took it believing it to be an egg. I know of it's current location thanks to my smaller eyes (eyes swirve down for a second to observe the spiders). Will you please retrieve it?" The voice lacks of any emotion beyond what seems to be extremely mild panic.
"Of course." Comes the dull voice of the Chef, dripping with RBV. "Just tell me where to go."
"Simply follow them" The spiders start to walk towards and surround a tree about the height of a storm giant. At the top is a nest made from nuts, bolts, scrap metal, and in the center a glowing violet semi-triangular disk.
Barbeau looks over. He pulls up his microphone. "See that tree? With the spiders? Yeah. Thank you." The Gut walks over to the tree and leans against it gently, barely touching it. "That's great." A cage drops down, nearly shattering as it hits the dirt. Barbeau grabs onto the chain connecting it to the Gut, standing on the damaged prison. The chain is suddenly pulled up with astonishing speed, launching the Chef into the air when it stops. He lands gracefully on the branch, grabbing the disc. "This looks useful."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The Chef looks close. "Hmm..." He takes off a glove, revealing a gray, cold, skinny claw. He places it in the hole, attempting to replace the part with Abyssal Ice. It won't melt, but it isn't any stronger than regular ice. If the part is purely mechanical, it should work properly until a replacement can be procured. In addition, it will apply some Abyssal power to the machine. Not a lot, but it can work as a kick-start.
He can hear the sounds of whirring machinery before it goes silent. The eyes of the machine open and instinctively reach towards the shoulder. They turn their head to you and focus their eyes. "The abyssal energy in this ice is enough to keep certain functions active, but I require my original power source to gain 100 percent motor function. A silver-tailed falcon took it believing it to be an egg. I know of it's current location thanks to my smaller eyes (eyes swirve down for a second to observe the spiders). Will you please retrieve it?" The voice lacks of any emotion beyond what seems to be extremely mild panic.
"Of course." Comes the dull voice of the Chef, dripping with RBV. "Just tell me where to go."
"Simply follow them" The spiders start to walk towards and surround a tree about the height of a storm giant. At the top is a nest made from nuts, bolts, scrap metal, and in the center a glowing violet semi-triangular disk.
Barbeau looks over. He pulls up his microphone. "See that tree? With the spiders? Yeah. Thank you." The Gut walks over to the tree and leans against it gently, barely touching it. "That's great." A cage drops down, nearly shattering as it hits the dirt. Barbeau grabs onto the chain connecting it to the Gut, standing on the damaged prison. The chain is suddenly pulled up with astonishing speed, launching the Chef into the air when it stops. He lands gracefully on the branch, grabbing the disc. "This looks useful."
The robot's faint voice from below yells, "Yes. That is my power source. Please hurry before the Silver-Tailed Falcon returns." As if on command, a digital falcon screech can be heard, getting closer.
"Simply follow them" The spiders start to walk towards and surround a tree about the height of a storm giant. At the top is a nest made from nuts, bolts, scrap metal, and in the center a glowing violet semi-triangular disk.
Barbeau looks over. He pulls up his microphone. "See that tree? With the spiders? Yeah. Thank you." The Gut walks over to the tree and leans against it gently, barely touching it. "That's great." A cage drops down, nearly shattering as it hits the dirt. Barbeau grabs onto the chain connecting it to the Gut, standing on the damaged prison. The chain is suddenly pulled up with astonishing speed, launching the Chef into the air when it stops. He lands gracefully on the branch, grabbing the disc. "This looks useful."
The robot's faint voice from below yells, "Yes. That is my power source. Please hurry before the Silver-Tailed Falcon returns." As if on command, a digital falcon screech can be heard, getting closer.
The spotlights scan the sky as artillery guns come out of the port holes.
Barbeau sighs. "Of course it's another machine. Couldn't be something edible, huh?" He leaps down to the top of the Gut, only about 10ft down, then glides down the rungs, essentially falling and using them to catch himself before the fall reaches the point that it would break his fingers if he tried to do so, all while his ship walks back to the robot. When he reaches the ground, he rushes to the robot tiefling and rips the ice out, causing it to evaporate. He places the power source in its place and tries to install it using any obvious connectors or wires.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Simply follow them" The spiders start to walk towards and surround a tree about the height of a storm giant. At the top is a nest made from nuts, bolts, scrap metal, and in the center a glowing violet semi-triangular disk.
Barbeau looks over. He pulls up his microphone. "See that tree? With the spiders? Yeah. Thank you." The Gut walks over to the tree and leans against it gently, barely touching it. "That's great." A cage drops down, nearly shattering as it hits the dirt. Barbeau grabs onto the chain connecting it to the Gut, standing on the damaged prison. The chain is suddenly pulled up with astonishing speed, launching the Chef into the air when it stops. He lands gracefully on the branch, grabbing the disc. "This looks useful."
The robot's faint voice from below yells, "Yes. That is my power source. Please hurry before the Silver-Tailed Falcon returns." As if on command, a digital falcon screech can be heard, getting closer.
The spotlights scan the sky as artillery guns come out of the port holes.
Barbeau sighs. "Of course it's another machine. Couldn't be something edible, huh?" He leaps down to the top of the Gut, only about 10ft down, then glides down the rungs, essentially falling and using them to catch himself before the fall reaches the point that it would break his fingers if he tried to do so, all while his ship walks back to the robot. When he reaches the ground, he rushes to the robot tiefling and rips the ice out, causing it to evaporate. He places the power source in its place and tries to install it using any obvious connectors or wires.
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
The spotlights scan the sky as artillery guns come out of the port holes.
Barbeau sighs. "Of course it's another machine. Couldn't be something edible, huh?" He leaps down to the top of the Gut, only about 10ft down, then glides down the rungs, essentially falling and using them to catch himself before the fall reaches the point that it would break his fingers if he tried to do so, all while his ship walks back to the robot. When he reaches the ground, he rushes to the robot tiefling and rips the ice out, causing it to evaporate. He places the power source in its place and tries to install it using any obvious connectors or wires.
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
Barbeau bows back. "Chef. Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. I am a Wastrilith cambion from a nameless fishing hamlet somewhere down south. This is The Gut. It is a all-terrain hotel with many Michelin-star boasting eateries, most of which are run by me and none of which I presume you can enjoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, DRAKE."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The spotlights scan the sky as artillery guns come out of the port holes.
Barbeau sighs. "Of course it's another machine. Couldn't be something edible, huh?" He leaps down to the top of the Gut, only about 10ft down, then glides down the rungs, essentially falling and using them to catch himself before the fall reaches the point that it would break his fingers if he tried to do so, all while his ship walks back to the robot. When he reaches the ground, he rushes to the robot tiefling and rips the ice out, causing it to evaporate. He places the power source in its place and tries to install it using any obvious connectors or wires.
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
Barbeau bows back. "Chef. Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. I am a Wastrilith cambion from a nameless fishing hamlet somewhere down south. This is The Gut. It is a all-terrain hotel with many Michelin-star boasting eateries, most of which are run by me and none of which I presume you can enjoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, DRAKE."
DRAKE lets out a small laugh, which sounds like whirring gears. "I suppose I can't fully enjoy your cuisine. Pleasure to meet you too, Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. If you are here for business I can lead you inside to the waiting area."
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
Barbeau bows back. "Chef. Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. I am a Wastrilith cambion from a nameless fishing hamlet somewhere down south. This is The Gut. It is a all-terrain hotel with many Michelin-star boasting eateries, most of which are run by me and none of which I presume you can enjoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, DRAKE."
DRAKE lets out a small laugh, which sounds like whirring gears. "I suppose I can't fully enjoy your cuisine. Pleasure to meet you too, Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. If you are here for business I can lead you inside to the waiting area."
The man "smiles," showing shark-like teeth. It looks forced, but practiced. "Thank you. That would be great. The Gut should probably stay out here, shooting metal birds or whatever it's primed itself to do." He looks over to the horrible machine, then back to the less horrible one. "It would probably be best for you to stay inside for now as well. Otherwise, the bird may come back for its 'egg.'"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
Barbeau bows back. "Chef. Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. I am a Wastrilith cambion from a nameless fishing hamlet somewhere down south. This is The Gut. It is a all-terrain hotel with many Michelin-star boasting eateries, most of which are run by me and none of which I presume you can enjoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, DRAKE."
DRAKE lets out a small laugh, which sounds like whirring gears. "I suppose I can't fully enjoy your cuisine. Pleasure to meet you too, Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. If you are here for business I can lead you inside to the waiting area."
The man "smiles," showing shark-like teeth. It looks forced, but practiced. "Thank you. That would be great. The Gut should probably stay out here, shooting metal birds or whatever it's primed itself to do." He looks over to the horrible machine, then back to the less horrible one. "It would probably be best for you to stay inside for now as well. Otherwise, the bird may come back for its 'egg.'"
Yet another laugh. "That sounds like a good suggestion. Please follow me." He gestures inside and through multiple hallways before leaving you in a empty room with multiple chairs and a singular computer by the wall.
*I think any rp here is sweet and awesome and all of those good roleplay words, because its the spider guild duh, the only roleplays here are fantastic ones*
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Long live the dragon slayers, long live the spider guild, long live the forums.
I want you to know. You are going to lose. You are going to lose badly. You’re going to lose badly and it’s going to be awesome.
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Barbeau looks over. He pulls up his microphone. "See that tree? With the spiders? Yeah. Thank you." The Gut walks over to the tree and leans against it gently, barely touching it. "That's great." A cage drops down, nearly shattering as it hits the dirt. Barbeau grabs onto the chain connecting it to the Gut, standing on the damaged prison. The chain is suddenly pulled up with astonishing speed, launching the Chef into the air when it stops. He lands gracefully on the branch, grabbing the disc. "This looks useful."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The robot's faint voice from below yells, "Yes. That is my power source. Please hurry before the Silver-Tailed Falcon returns." As if on command, a digital falcon screech can be heard, getting closer.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
The spotlights scan the sky as artillery guns come out of the port holes.
Barbeau sighs. "Of course it's another machine. Couldn't be something edible, huh?" He leaps down to the top of the Gut, only about 10ft down, then glides down the rungs, essentially falling and using them to catch himself before the fall reaches the point that it would break his fingers if he tried to do so, all while his ship walks back to the robot. When he reaches the ground, he rushes to the robot tiefling and rips the ice out, causing it to evaporate. He places the power source in its place and tries to install it using any obvious connectors or wires.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*hiya!*
*I don't quite see it either, but I'm glad you think it's cool.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Heyo! I'm gonna go to bed as soon as I finish this RP, but it's cool to see ya!*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*nice to see you as well! How art thou?*
*Enjoying my time. How about you?*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
The whirring of machinery returns, and is much more prominent than before. The Robot stands up as its joints glow with the same violet light before dimming, both the sound and light. It focuses its eyes on you and makes a small bow. "I thank you for your kindness, I suppose the captain of this contraption. I am DRAKE, though my official serial title is longer. What is your title?" The spiders on the floor climb up his legs and enter small cracks on the back of his thigh, all of them fitting comfortably before these cracks close.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
Barbeau bows back. "Chef. Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. I am a Wastrilith cambion from a nameless fishing hamlet somewhere down south. This is The Gut. It is a all-terrain hotel with many Michelin-star boasting eateries, most of which are run by me and none of which I presume you can enjoy. It is a pleasure to meet you, DRAKE."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
DRAKE lets out a small laugh, which sounds like whirring gears. "I suppose I can't fully enjoy your cuisine. Pleasure to meet you too, Chef Auguste Douxchets Barbeau. If you are here for business I can lead you inside to the waiting area."
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
*I’m doing quite good, I’m going to my rowing practice for the first time in a few months, because it finally isn’t as scorching hot as it was*
The man "smiles," showing shark-like teeth. It looks forced, but practiced. "Thank you. That would be great. The Gut should probably stay out here, shooting metal birds or whatever it's primed itself to do." He looks over to the horrible machine, then back to the less horrible one. "It would probably be best for you to stay inside for now as well. Otherwise, the bird may come back for its 'egg.'"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*gtg*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Yet another laugh. "That sounds like a good suggestion. Please follow me." He gestures inside and through multiple hallways before leaving you in a empty room with multiple chairs and a singular computer by the wall.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
*bye*
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
*No
I meant sweet as in epic, sorry. I just loved the way they were currently interacting I guess. Dunno why I freaked out*
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
*That's what I thought, I was just wondering what made it so epic in your opinion.*
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*I was also kinda sleep deprived lol*
⌜╔═════════════ The Board ══════════════╗⌝
...and started me on my way into my next chapter in life...
⌞╚════════════ Extended Signature ════════════╝⌟
*I think any rp here is sweet and awesome and all of those good roleplay words, because its the spider guild duh, the only roleplays here are fantastic ones*
Long live the dragon slayers, long live the spider guild, long live the forums.
I want you to know. You are going to lose. You are going to lose badly. You’re going to lose badly and it’s going to be awesome.