#sinfulbugs

[undercrank-jank]

There’s that awful scratching in there, that crevice! The fuck kind of critter-

… oh shit

( @muckroach-official go first)

[undercrank-jank]

… I’ve seen my share of death and gore but…

Never so much, so condensed in a single space… It’s so much… It’s painted red and black in there.

I swear I recognize some of the dead or dying. Pat, Micheal… fucking Harvey?! I think there’s still some poor sods in there fighting… They’re screaming and shouting, at some white thing dashing back and forth in there.

Each of the bodies I looked at seemed to have died differently. Fosha had a perfect hole in her face, Pat was covered in cuts… I couldn’t even tell what happened to the poor chaps reduced to bloody, crushed chitin. What ungodly beast is in there?!

… I don’t call myself spiritual but I had a motherffFUCKING HUNCH… some bullshit was gonna go down one of these days… Is this it? My ultimate test of judgement?

… Sod it, Jack. I’ve beaten bigger things before with this ol’ twistpin… my boys need help! What am I doing cowering back here?!

Citadel be with me… This’ll be my absolution.

…

Wretched BEASTS!

(Jack drops down, slamming his twistpin into the ground in an overhead swoop. He stands up to leer at his surroundings.)

Kill my fellows, kill our handiwork… I’ll kill you my damn self! SHOW YOURSELVES!!

…

(There is no answer.)

…

It’s… i-it’s… quiet?

(Jack looks around… Bodies, all in different ways of death. The floor he stands on is wet with hemolymph… He looks up and sees the evidently-damaged Ventrica. An Underloft is perched on some scaffolding, peering over, terrified. He calls out.)

M-Murray?! What in our god’s name is going on in here?

…

R-RUN!!!

(Murray yells at him as dashing movement and sound comes from his side. A sharp pain is jammed into the joint between his head and his body, before a weight is thrown against it, kicking off him as the pointed pin recedes.)

(Jack screams as he’s knocked to the ground, twistpin rattling to a stop next to him. He crawls back up, feels his bleeding neck and glares at the ghostly, masked figure standing far in front of him.)

(He stretches his joints.)

Howling wraith…?! Oh… Go back to your tomb, specter!

RETURN TO MEMORY!

…

(The bloodied spectre proved evasive… Even with Murray and some random Underscrub gaining the courage to fight with him, soon enough they were struck down too, joining the growing collection of bodies on the floor.)

… FUCK-… Please, CEASE!

(Jack yelled, sweeping his twistpin in a large horizontal arc… No matter how fast he was, this ghost was too quick, too good. As if he was fighting something indeed incorporeal. It felt as if he was only hitting it when it wanted him to hit it, judging by the sound not of pin striking flesh but of metallic clanking, of pin meeting pin.)

(He heaved, digging his twistpin into the ground as he caught his breath after another blow… He looked up to see the ghost above him, bearing down as light and fog built up around him. He saw his demise, and retreated into his studded shell.)

(Nothing could’ve prepared him for the holy pain that came down onto his back. The feeling of even his hearty shell splintering from force and weight as a longpin pierced deep through his armor. He screams.)

(When the weight crushes him no longer, he brings himself to stand… His form has been thoroughly broken and beaten, and looks to his Twistpin still dug into the floor.)

… Please… come… on…!

(He limps towards it, to wield it once more in a desperate last stand, but feels a powerful kick hit his side… He stumbles backward, catching himself in the open Ventrica chamber.)

(He gasped… somehow he fit? His form hurt like no pain he had ever felt… The Ventrica door closed in front of him, safely sealing him inside.)

(His voice hurts to speak, to hear. He can only whimper, weakly…)

I… oh… no more… I… I failed… I fucked… up… huff…

(The ghost stares at him through the transparent door. It steps back, and withdraws its longpin… Had he lived this encounter?)

No… no I can’t… I couldn’t… T-this… uuuuggghhh… my shell…!

(He shifted his weight, there really wasn’t that much room in here with his fractured bulk.)

…

No… Nononono, wait, WAIT, STOP.

(The Ventrica chamber shook. He remembered what state it was in when he saw it earlier.)

S-shut it off! It’s busted! I-… fuckfuckfuck-

(He scrambled to find the controls, but between his size and his condition he could do nothing but change which wall he leaned against. Steam started building around the chamber as the floor heated up.)

Stop- STOP. I don’t want to- use it-right now! LET ME OUT.

S-… stop-!

(The chamber rocketed upwards… and was nearly instantly met with part of the tube it was traveling on being dislocated and off-angle. It snagged, and with its momentum, the chamber was crushed and mangled mid-air.)

(Steam frantically billowed everywhere, before the chamber loosened, creaked, and screeched back to earth with a mighty crash as it landed, completing the symphony of catastrophic failure.)

…

(Blood trickled out from the wreckage… anything organic within was very, very dead.)

(The ghost saw the sight of steaming metal, powdered chitin and torn-up organs, and cackled triumphantly.)

…

( @phantom-of-the-exhaust-organ )

[undercrank-jank]

*Extends neck through a pipe system from behind you, with a greatnail in hand*

(whispering to self quietly) "just hold still, just hold still, just hold still for five seconds and let me eat you... just HOLD STILL!"

*Attempted chomp, rolled 2d6, got 9)

SON OF A-

(rolled Offense 1d12 1d6, rolled 5! 4/6 masks to ?/? masks. No exhaustion penalty.)

AGH-! Oh, fucking hell man what in the Citadel’s face are you?! Beat up one pest and now another’s taking bites outta me?!

[undercrank-jank]

*steals your work tools and begins leaving with them. No intention to actually steal them permanently, the flea just wishes to annoy you.*

MY SHIT I-

God-… I ain’t got the stamina for chasing these days, son of a bitch! Get back here ya hairball!

[undercrank-jank]

If you seek to use soul in your, resurrector, was it? We must advise that you steer clear of mixing soul and our blessings, they don't necessarily mix well, since our blood functions as a replacement for the life soul gives

..though, we are curious, how do you plan on replacing the lost organs, the crushed mind of your fallen bug?.. even our blessings are not capable of entirely replacing that, much to our dismay

@lifeblood-all-yours

… My god you are blue-

Both grant life, do they not? Plasmium perhaps might be a drastic replacement, but I don’t see how it and soul would poorly interact. What I do see is an increased effectiveness of resurrection, having two life-giving substances together.

They aren’t necessarily wrong… You sure they wouldn’t clash and compete, sir? Would the soul even matter? It’s nowhere near as aggressive as stimulated lifeblood.

As for the missing organs… Some of the less-pristine-but-still-intact can lend theirs, though a few specific fellows feel beyond any usage -/aside for spare parts… including poor old Jack… ugh.

[undercrank-jank]

*L4D2 hunter sound effect plays*

*Pokes head out of pipe system*

*places down a pot of soup and refuses to elaborate*

*L4D2 hunter sound effect plays in reverse*

*Attached to the soup pot is a note, stating:

-This is a pot of apology soup made by me, Willoh. Apparently some scary lady with a club @cloth-official told me I "shouldn't eat people" for some reason and bonked me, so here's some soup. The ingredients are mushrooms, flea brew (couldn't even try some myself dangit), and some mystery meat (actually Lurien's late butler Jeeves, but this isn't written in the note).

Oh, and sorry for trying to eat you and put you in a stew.

-Willoh

…

… a’ight then.

[undercrank-jank]

You should consider using Lifeblood. Surely it'd reduce the strain that working for the Citadel puts onto your shell.

The… what, ‘Lifeblood’? Plasmium maybe?

Well… I knew some of my fellows tried it after getting some in. Don’t think it ended up that well for them, though I did hear their shells felt fresh and new during the whole ordeal…

I could be tempted but… between what happened there and what i’ve heard about it as taboo on top of just being a sinful thing to indulge in…

Keep your blue shit, I ain’t interested.

[undercrank-jank]

There is one who may wish to help you… you’ll have to make an excuse to the deep docks to see them… be warned though… they hate impoliteness…. If you are rude to them… they will kill you without hesitation

…????

One who may wish to help me? What in the citadel for? I don’t need help! I got myself and my coworkers, I am fine in these dusty, holy works.