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>>3399416
Mavericks nested in the Detroit Federal Recovery Zone, daring the world to come and dig them out. When they did, they reverted to scorched earth--clearly not expecting the response, they rapidly struggled to bury leads to no end of other maverick hideaway. The battle escalated, and finally entire blocks were bombed, pulverising the area and adding decades to the cleanup time. When even that didn’t suffice, they sent in you. And now the last maverick in Detroit is dead, and you find yourself outside the last bar standing.

You let yourself in, running your hand along the wall and wiping a long ribbon of dust clear. It was in maverick hands half an hour ago, but they didn’t care much about the housekeeping.

They didn’t care much for the selection, either. You hop behind the bar and thumb through the bottles. Most of it was unsealed and lost to time, and half of this is cheap shit, turned to vinegar, but…

Bingo. Scotch, and an aging cabinet.

“Pharaoh Shots,” reads the label, a sunburst radial beneath a striped Egyptian headdress. Fitting, for a solera.

You kip up onto the bar, swinging your little (ugh) boots as you pop the cork and take a swig.

The door, listing on one hinge, creaks back open.

“So it’s true,” says a velvety soft voice. “You’re here.”

“‘Sup,” you ask, waving the bottle. It feels wrong to ruin it with nanites, so you pound back the flask you brought as a chaser.

Tap, tap, tap, come his boots, brushing aside chairs and tables. “Zelenyy Geroy. The Fourth Sword. The blazing beam blade of Cambridge. I’ve been looking for you.”

You pull a face. “Oh, hell, not this again.”

The stranger--clad in angular blacks and cutting reds--ignores you. “They say you killed Imperious personally. Fought alongside the 4th Overland Commander to end the mighty Frag Arachnid. Struck down Sector Goregaff with the legendary Flash Rezador. Dueled Manjakini to a standstill and dispatched him in the very heart of his warcamp. Raised arms against Shiva himself and lived.”

He slowly draws a long, elegant beam saber from his back. He ignites it, the planes clean and sharp, the work of a master. “I would challenge you, maverick hunter. To be the one to claim your head would carve my name into the annals of history--”

“I just wanted a drink,” you mutter.

He pauses. “I’m… sorry?”

“I just wanted to have a god damn drink in peace,” you sigh.

“...I have no idea what to say to that,” he says honestly.

“No, no, it’s fine, let’s do this.” You swing yourself off the bartop, taking another chug of scotch and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

>Shenanigans.

Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8MsgfSkur8
Style Rating: D(runk)

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Hello! For those looking for the continuation of the story, you can find it at >>3399222.

Here be silliness. Two-drink minimum, no good decisions.

>>3399426
Just for the record, I trashed Detroit.

One of the rare times where I'm kinder than real life.

>>3399426
>The Fourth Sword
just one?

Start slow. Juggle 3 sabers at once in a crisscrossing assault.

>>3399448
Gee, HC, how come your mom lets you have TWO wieners at once?

>>3399426
>You've gravely underestimated the master of HEY WHAT'S THAT OVER THERE

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>>3399483
I AM SHIVA, PHILOSOPHER OF DEATH.

>>3399426
This >>3399489
With a healthy side of sudden stabbing.

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>Toss Geroy('s face) the flask. Anything we collectively do to the city of Detroit will only improve it.

>>3399448
Dammit, I'm out of alcohol. And I have work to do tonight. And my body tends to skip the "drunk" stage of drunkenness and go straight to the "can't walk under my own power" stage.
brb, getting beer

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>>3399502
Unfortunately I've got work, otherwise I'd be cheating on my diet to get good and liquored for this.

That said, I wholly recommend you fuel your decisions in this thread with alcohol.

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>>3399426
>chain disarm him until you get bored

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>>3399508
I would, but I have forever sworn off alchohol after watching several heated arguments between my parents that was fueled by the stuff, among other reasons.

Naturally I shall substitute boredom.

>>3399426
"Was your creator sponsored by Mountain Dew and Doritos or something? Do you have flashing LEDs too?"

Also he forgot that we slapped Desaturated Blonde's stupid sword out of his stupid hands but that's probably not actually worth mentioning.

>>3399426
Glass him. Then beat him about the head with the stool, or perhaps just the stool legs.

>>3399426
Changing vote to this >>3399573
We break the bottle on his stupid face, stab him with it, and THEN beat him with the stool.

>>3399426
>>3399573

Can we style on him without drawing a weapon? We should style on him without drawing a weapon.

Why are we not challenging him to a drinking competition?

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>>3399508
Fine, I wasn't gonna share anyways.

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>>3399589
"Crankshaft, no!" "Crankshaft YES."

>>3399588
We should make a drinking game out of the fight

Or out of the quest
>Anode gets greviously injured-Drink
>Named Maverick retired-Drink
>Named ally killed-Drink twice
>Emergency beamout-Finish drink, get another
>Traumatic thing happens to Emerald-Drink
>Reploid in story is drunk-Obtain "nanites" (preferably Nerds but any similarly sized food, and even nontoxic inedible substances like sand work) and add to next drink
>No post tonight"-Drink
>"Gonna TRY to get a post out tonight"-Drink
>don't hear back from HC that night-Drink again
>don't hear from CL either-Finish drink and get another
>CL makes cryptic reference to impending death-Drink for every 2 such posts
>CL gloats after shit goes down-Drink twice to drown sorrows
>CL implicates HC as being responsible for shit going down-Finish drink, get another
>someone in thread is waifuing characters-Drink hot cocoa or other sweet, nonalcoholic beverage
>someone in thread is husbandoing characters-Drink hot cocoa with a cinnamon stick added
>HC references own drinking habits-Obtain and drink nearest feasible equivalent of what HC drank

>>3399665
But anon Em's existence is traumatic

>>3399691
>Traumatic thing happens to Emerald-Drink
>don't hear from CL either-Finish drink and get another
>CL makes cryptic reference to impending death-Drink for every 2 such posts
>CL gloats after shit goes down-Drink twice to drown sorrows
>CL implicates HC as being responsible for shit going down-Finish drink, get another
>HC references own drinking habits-Obtain and drink nearest feasible equivalent of what HC drank

Any one of these would be fatal.

>>3399665
>>3399622
Oh right
Corollary to those waifu/husbando ones
>If someone wants to sexual the Skittle-heat an entire pouch worth of Skittles until liquified, drink before solidified. Admit self to ER for burns to esophagus. Add colored sugar to taste.

>>3399713
Not
>Buy bulk bag of skittles
>sort by color to give you time to think about what the fuck you just did
>Fill a drinking vessel of choice of each color
>add vodka to dissolve
>garnish with sprinkles
>call ER before drinking yourself to death

>>3399773
And to clarify, you have to drink ALL the skittles.

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>>3399775

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>>3399426
How has nobody posted this yet? Glass him.

>>3399426
Smack him with a barstool and start going over the merits of your various Sword Waifus

>>3399701
>Slowly fall in love with CL- Finish drink, go to bed

>>3400629
You missed Scarab's post apparently

>>3399665
>nontoxic inedible substances like sand work
do not do this. Sand that accidentally gets in your lungs is very bad news indeed.

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>>3400628
DON'T LEWD FOXFIRE
DON'T DO IT
Posting here so I only derail the thread that lacks rails in the first place

>>3401371
"Hey Anode, want to mingle DNA? You can use my backdoor and make my buffer overflow. I'm turning off my firewall RIGHT NOW."

"NO WAY MAV"

>>3401371
Under no circumstances should we ever lewd foxfire.

>>3401561
Yeah, we should set her up with Em instead.

>>3401643
Do you want him to hate us to death?

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>>3401371
>>3401442

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>>3399713
>>3399773
>>3399775
>>3399784
Drink up, motherfuckers.

>>3401718
Look, either she or Rezador will end up killing the other, and I call that a win.

>>3401741
>I told him to drink all the skittles and he actually did it the absolute mad man!

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>>3399573
>>3399577
>>3399581
>>3400629
You swish the bottle back and forth, weighing the value of its contents against the punchability of this guy’s face.

“If you accept, then…”

“Hold on,” you say, mulling it over. Swish-swash, swish-swash.

He remains quiet for, watching you as you tilt the scotch, holding it up to the grainy light to see the light play through the liquid.

You let the silence go from patient to uncomfortable to awkward, still gripped by indecision. You hold the bottle up over his head, substituting his dark visor with the red undercast glow with the amber light of goodness and love inside the bottle.

“...So, uh, are you--”

You cross the bar in two steps, smashing it through his teeth. You power through the motion as the bottle shatters, fist meeting face and carrying him back out the door and tumbling ass over kettle back into the wild outdoors.

You chase him out as he rolls to his feet, blade at the ready. “You DARE--”

“Shut up. Shut up, listen,” you say, drawing your own saber off your back. “You see this?” You ask, waving it under his nose, unignited. “This--”

He takes a two-handed grip and thrusts. You spin on your heel, letting it breeze past you. He tries to split your belly with a lateral shift, and you hop up and kick his fingers, knocking one hand off before twisting into a roundhouse, smashing him in the neck and sending him back down the street.

“This…” you continue, ignoring his very rude interruption, “is a bastard.”

“...What?”

“A beam saber. It’s a bastard. You take the bastard, and you stick it into another bastard--” You wave it at him for emphasis. “And then you’re left with only one bastard. It’s a bastard removal device.”

He scoffs, turning away and sheathing his blade. “I came here to challenge a master swordsman, not a drunken sot.”

You kick him in the back of the head. “You wanted a duel? Here’s your duel. All sabers are bastards.”

“Honorless dog!” He spits in the dust. “I’ll take your head!”

“No!” You declare, ducking his backhanded swing and smacking him across the cheek with the back of your hand. “You will ANNUL the BASTARD. It is--”

He swings. You crouch, and it sweeps right over your diminutive head.

“A bastard--”

He swings straight down--you catch his pommel on the top of your elbow, pushing his arm back.

“Removal--”

He windmills back, and stabs.

“Device.”

Saber over your shoulder, he stares down at your saber, ignited, and poised at his throat.

...You’re starting to feel those nanites coming over you. You are:
>An angry drunk.
>A sad drunk.

>>3402014
>A little bit of both: sad that there isn't enough for you and angry that you couldn't savor it because of him.

Is this guy looking for glory or is he trying to audition to be a protege? Are we a drunken master now? Either way let's school him like we're a professor with tenure: too drunk to give a fuck if he actually learns or not.

>>3402014
>A horny drunk

Remember that cute brunette human from back in the day? Man, she was cute. If only we'd had the endo and banged her.

...What? YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!

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>>3402014
>>A sad drunk.
Anger is the leprachaun's default state, no sense being drunk if it doesn't change anything.

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>>3402069
Why you gotta make me give Cain Labs free rein over your missions? Because this is how you get me to give Cain Lab free reins over your missions.

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>>3402014
>A sad drunk.

Sad that we're not drunk enough.

>>3402056
Sounds good to me. Let's humble him and show him how It's done, and hopefully he learns a thing from an asskicking.

>>3402014
>A sad drunk.
MY EMOTIONS!

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>>3402014
This >>3402056

>>3402092
To be fair, you told anon to let alcohol fuel their choices.

>>3402056
This, very much this.

>>3402014
>A sad drunk.

This guy needs to hear our Tragic Backstory.

>>3402014
>A sad drunk.

>>3402014
>Sad drunk that goes into angry if egged on easily. Maybe a bit wistful and lonely as Imperious reminds us of a time before him too.

>>3402014
>>A SINGING drunk.

>>3402339
>>3402413
So what I'm hearing is that we combine these and make this thread a musical episode.

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>>3402014
>A sad drunk.

>>3402014
>A sad drunk.
Hard to say if his demeanor is at all worsened by alcohol though

>>3402413
"So there I was in Detroit about to drink pure joy
When a guy walks in, calls himself Zero's Fourth Sex Toy.
He pulled out a saber, wanted to see who's was bigger
I threw my glass in face, what a waste of fine liquor!
Not looking for a duel, I just wanna get plastered,
The only purpose of a saber is to annul a bastard!
Zero Girl-Boy might look down on me, think I'm a short, sad drunk
And I'll admit since my brother died, I've been in a bit of a funk
But I've got more skill than Anode than has bruises
Pick a fight with me, you'll be the one who loses!
Can't block or parry, my moves' are way to quick
Better get on the floor, suck my non-existent dick!"

Zelenny Geroy is Emerald, though. It's Russian for green hero. I don't think we ever GOT this guy's name.

Rude.

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>>3401741
>>3401982
Lime skittle vodka and seltzer.

Taste the rainbow, mother fuckers.

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>>3402056
>>3402087
>>3402141
>>3402176
>>3402189
>>3402169
>>3402225
>>3402339
>>3402349
>>3402375
>>3402721
...You sigh, and cut the beam. “It’s just so fucking sad. I don’t even know your name, you know that?”

“It’s Abyss--”

You step back and cut the beam. “That’s not the point, it’s just--do you know how many people I’ve killed and I have no idea who the hell they are?” You gesture at him with the pommel. “How about you? You don’t get to ‘we must kung-fu fight’ stage without a few bodies behind you.”

“...I see your point,” he admits.

“Right. Also, sorry about the name. I’m stuck with ‘Emerald,’ I feel it.”

“… actually, I am self-designated.”

“...Oh.”

You scratch your nose. He coughs discreetly.

“...You ever had a drink?”

Turns out he hasn’t. Abyss is a lightweight, and you’re small enough to be carry-on luggage. You know, you’ve tried.

“Any day,” you toast the sky, “you don’t have to murder someone, is a good day.”

“Hear hear!” Abyss cheers, before promptly pitching over backwards off the roof and staying there.

You laugh, enjoying your buzz--which suddenly, instantly, and immediately goes dead. Binding shards of ivory hardlight punch through you from every angle, and your arms and legs suddenly feel like lead, your head like a ton of bricks.

“HaHA!” Roars a new voice. “The vaunted swordmaster, easily snared! You’ll fetch a high price if I bring you to RUDRA!”

“Oh who the fucking hell are you,” you ask dully, glaring up at him.

A brown-and-yellow, long-necked fuckheel jerks his thumb at his slender chest. “None other than Lockdown Lamprey! You’ll find you’re trapped, hunter dog, I’ve shut down every single offshoot of your primary DNA sequence!”

You blink, then slide off the roof and land before him, drawing your saber.

“I--what? Impossible!” He squeals. “You would need more than tertiary redundancies to move!”

“So, hey,” you ask, annoyingly sober and your head annoyingly free of buzzing, “Can you do that trick twice?”

“Er… no,” he admits.

“Oh, thank fuck,” you mutter, popping the cork on your nanite flask and taking another chug. “Now then…”

>You gon’ LEARN today.

Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FISXJNCcLM0
Style Rating: C(rapulent)

>>3404560
>See how long you can juggle him in the air with your sabers. Dude's gotta be able to take SOME hits; even the Big Blue Idiot has shields.

>>3404560
>Elbow drop off the top rope.

>>3404560
>Double team him with your new drinking buddy, and make about as many dick jokes as you can manage while doing so.

>>3404614
Sadly, Abyss is a lightweight. Even reaching D(runk) is too stylish for him.

>>3401741
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1Ry5qhIaOs

>>3404560
>Just slap him in the face over and over. Sometimes with his hand and make him slap himself.

>>3404560
>Make him eat a god damn barstool
Fucked detoxxed us for no reason!

>>3404560
This >>3404716
10/10 drunk Irish, Scots, Russians, and Englishmen agree, mach 17 barstool to the face for ruining the buzz

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>>3404560
this >>3404712
Slap some sense into him

>>3404560
>slap him with your hand
>slap him with his hand
>when he breaks off, use the opening to make him chug straight nanites

>>3405311
In retrospect, I shoulda voted for this. Think HC will let us get away with performing a massive live Mav capture by getting everyone plastered?

>>3404560
Mix >>3404716 and >>3405311 for ruining our buzz with a new drinking buddy. Teach this asshole a lesson in fucking bar manners!

>>3405311
Seconding.

MAVERICK DRINKING PARTY, go go go!

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>>3406053
This was not the plan.

The plan shall change.

>>3406999
You are a gentleman and a scholar.

And possibly a drunkard.

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>>3404712
>>3404716
>>3404888
>>3404994
>>3405311
>>3405430
>>3405477
>>3406053
You march on Lockdown Lackskill with murderous intent--he raises a buster crested with stylized teeth and fires. You duck low like a boxer, letting it streak overhead, shuffle in, and then spring up into a jump, clocking his giraffe-looking-motherfucker head with the top of your helmet. Snapping back his chin, he stumbles, thrashing with a hand, which you catch by the wrist, twist ‘round, and pin as you surf him back to the ground.

“No! I’m sorry!” He hiss-pleads. “I’ll tell you who my buyers are! I’ll--”

You smack him in the face with his own hand with a dull, unenthusiastic plap.

“...”

plap

“Are you…”

plap

“...Yeah, okay,” you admit. “Probably woulda got more wind up if I were hitting you from the front.”

“Will you let me up now?”

“Let me think about that fVAMOS LUCHA!” you roar, leaping overhead again and twisting, elbow leading the way back down.

“Ohgodno--HFF!” Lamprey makes a wheezy noise like a deflating toy as you compress his stomach like an accordion. After a few more slaps, this time much more effectively, he lies there whimpering as you stand back up, dusting off your boots.

Wordlessly stalking past Abyss as he totters his way around the side of the building, you retreat back into the bar. Outside, Lamprey slowly raises his head with a groan of pain.

A flying barstool clocks him in the head so hard his shields go off. His long-ass neck straightens out so fast his body gets lift, then falls back flat on his back with a crunch.

This time he stays down, mumbling feebly as you pull another flask of Problems-Be-Gone and dump it down his throat.

You kip back, arms folded, watching with satisfaction as the bubbles overtake him.

A moment later, his concentration lapses, and the lockdown suppressing you dissolves. Instantly, all the nanites already swarming in your not-bloodstream reactivate, and the floor heaves beneath you.

“Woo! Ho ho hoooo, yeah, now we’re talking,” you mumble, steadying yourself with a hand against the side of the bar.

The entire thing groans, listing over to one side under your palm, and crashes down like a methodist in a methadone clinic.

“...You did that,” you declare to the comatose Lamprey.

“Booz’is in there?” Abyss asks. You nod glumly.

“We have… we have to find more.”

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>>3407704
TO THE WINDOW.

TO THE WALL.

TO THE BURNT DOWN SHOPPING MALL.

Finally, an agonizing three whole minutes later, you stumble into an ex-automatic door dangling off the frame, into what remains of the remains of the New Center One. The building claws up at the sun like the last, defiant claw of a skeletal dragon.

And there’s a tavern inside. Or was.

“Nest onnalimb anna limb onnabranch anna branch innatree anna tree innahole inna hole innabog and a BOG DOWN IN THE VALLEYO,” you caterwaul, thrusting your captured bounty skyward.

Abyss claps excitedly. Lamprey groans, dangling from your other hand because you dragged him here like the buzzkill piece of shit he is.

This calls for a toast!
>

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>>3407712
>To Detroit!

>>3407712
>To boozeahol! And nanites! And fuck that spotty looking chucklefuck til he learns how to not be a buzzkill!

>>3407712
To Doppler! May his liver rot and his teeth fall out!

>>3407712
This >>3407909

>>3407712
>>
To shupping! Shlipping. ... i dunno im cronk something like that.

>>3407712
>To everlasting peace!

By the way, did they ever finish that RoboCop statue?

>>3407712
>To SWORDS!

>>3407712
>To getting away from Rezador

>>3407712
>To Gopher, who's standing right over there and looking pissed!

>>3408596
This and
>>3408615

More shenanigans afoot at some point, maybe tonight. Less important since there's definitely not the same volume of substance to an April Fools thread than the mainstream story.

(Take your shots now, you animals.)

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>>3410849

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>>3407712
“To bastard removal devices!” You call.

“Hear, hear!” Abyss replies unsteadily.

“To this joyless fuck!” You declare, holding Lamprey up by the ankle.

“Please help,” he whispers faintly.

“And to Dickimus Prime not the fuck being here!” You roar.

“Hear… hear?”

You nod sagaciously. “Hear hear.”

“Hear hear!”

“Damn right.”

You lift your latest drink aloft in triumph, only for it to vanish in a blinding neon blur, suddenly leaving you holding a nearly-sliced half-bottle, the contents slightly on fire.

“...Why,” you hiss.

The newest newcomer touches down before you, a six-armed superbeast with everything from katanas to katars. “Pathetic.”

“You--” You gesture sharply with the bottlehalf, tense and failing to properly convey the hate in your heart, no matter what you do. “Absolute--bastard.”

“My name is Grievance--” you groan loudly. “--And your prized Plus One will be another fine addition to my collection.”

“Okay, hold up--” You roll backwards as he slashes for your throat, tumbling down the hill of rubble behind you and coming up on your feet, holding up one finger. “One, you’re a few days late on that one. Two--”

He streaks in with a lashing barrage of swordstrokes, attempting to barrel through you, and you simply flop back on your back and backspring over him, coming back down in front as he comes to a halt. “I wasn’t finished. Two--”

“Silence!” He swings.

“Thanks for--”

Swish.

“Reminding me--”

Flash.

“--ASSHOLE!”

He chuckles haughtily as you take a step forward, light and limber. “Do your worst, Little Man. My defense is truly impenetrable. Many blades, endless vectors. Any possible attack you could mount will be stopped by one of my six deadlyAAAGH IT’S ON MY FACE!”

You yank Lamprey back, twisting his gangly limbs like a rattail, and whap him with him again. “Ohgodno--”

Whap.

“Ow God, stop!”

WHAP.

“IT SMELLS LIKE SQUID--!”

WhapwhapwhapwhapWHAP

“Get it off get it off get it off get it off!”

You wind up and punt, kicking his scimitar up into the air, leaping and snagging it with your free hand, and bringing it down in a crashing beam/lamprey combo, in furtherance of your new and advanced ‘hit a motherfucker with another motherfucker’ studies.

>YOU CAN’T DEFEAT ME I HAVE GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE

>>3412161
There's a decision to make here?

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>>3412181
This, except you're doing it to the enemy. Freestyle it.

>>3412161
Did you seriously just sic a General Greivous espy on us?

Anyway, start slicing away limbs and weapons. Ssap/steal a different weapon for each extremity. Liberally apply Lamprey for MAXIMUM FUN.

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>>3412219
What? No. No, I would never.

Grievance is a Commodore.

>>3412219
>Did you seriously just sic a General Greivous espy on us?
Don't be rediculous. Rezador is on OUR side.

>>3412161
>YOU CAN’T DEFEAT ME I HAVE GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE

THIS HAND OF MINE IS BURNING RED! Call out those attacks!

>>3412161
See how well lamprey suction works and swing him around. From the ground to the sky. If another sonuvabitch comes at us, we fling the motherfucker from the motherfucker we are swinging to the new motherfucker. WE WILL CHAIN COMBO MOTHERFUCKERS IF THEY WON'T LET US DRINK DAMN IT!

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>>3412259

>>3412161
combine with Abyss to form:
MECHA SHIVA Z!

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>>3412887
Second. GATTAI!

>>3412887
It's actually just Emerald riding on his shoulders while tossing barstools at Mach Forty and screaming Mazinger Z attack callouts.

>>3412161
We have RULES goddammit! Motherfucker gets a barstool to the face for ruining our buzz! Then we turn this motherfucker into our new fucking barstool! If we can't do that, we should break his elbows and knees. Disarm him for added effect. We're gonna bag us a second (third?) mav. After we break him, force feed him a shot of nanites for each broken limb to teach him to let us finish our GOD DAMN DRINKS! NO MANNERS!

>>3412887
Dear sweet fuck, yes.

Seconding.

>>3412936
NGL I kind of wish anode was here watching Em's shenanigans, this shit is hilarious.

I think one of the funniest things that can happen at this point would be another guy coming in to challenge Em, but then actually being polite and waiting till he finishes his drink.
That, or dudes coming in to try and fight these other dudes.

>>3413095
He can watch it on youtube like everyone else.

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>>3412887
>>3412936
>>3412961
>>3413026
>>3413095
Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFSen7DRQWU
Style Rating: B(litzed)

You spike him down so hard he bounces, bouncing of his own faceplate and back up past you. You leap with him and spike him again with a driving kick, dribbling him as you land on your side, twist up like a capoeira dance, and plant a heel on his back as he comes back down. See-sawing back and forth, you launch him behind you before springing up, tumbling back, handspringing, and alighting atop Abyss’s shoulders.

“Wait what,” he says dimly, brain fogged by the nanites.

“FORWARD,” you command, pointing ahead at the reeling Grievance as you kip down onto his back.

“Oh god what’s happening.”

You lean over his helmet and thrust your beam saber over his shoulder.

“Release your photon energy! Breathe dessicated death! SHOW HIM YOUR FIRE TITS!”

“I don’t--understand what you want.”

“Fucking--I wish Anode was here, he knows what’s up. Hit HIM,” you gesture sharply at Grievance, “With YOU.”

“Oh! Okay!”

Abyss begins windmilling his arms. Yes. YES! He’s a natural!

You mirror his attack, alternating arms to keep yourselves from colliding. “I’m just gonna start moving my arms like this, and if you get retired, it’s your own fault!”

Grievance stares in horror--even with his six arms to your collective four, he’s never faced an opponent of this magnitude. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be real.”

The meaty thuds of justice say otherwise, raining down hammer blows on him as he simply loses the will to live in the face of such overwhelming firepower.

Now it’s time to finish it.
>Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses!
>Tequila for the agave god! Lime for the lime throne!
>Is that a cocktail set? You LOVE cocktails.

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>>3416346
>Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses!

>>3416346
>>Tequila for the agave god! Lime for the lime throne!
Tequila is a wondrous and terrible alcohol that manages to taste dirty. Not "like dirt", *dirty*. Let's introduce this asshole to its unrivaled might.

>>3416346
>Is that a cocktail set? You LOVE cocktails.
Let's see what horrible monstrosities we can craft, dose with waaaay too many nanites, and shove down his throat, eh?

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>>3416346
>Tequila for the agave god! Lime for the lime throne!

>>3416346
>Tequila for the agave god! Lime for the lime throne!
Our next battle cry will be VIVA CUERVO!

>>3416346
>Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses!
>Whiskey for my men, whiskey for my horses!
>Whiskey for my whiskey!

>>3416346
>Abyss, take this bastard in your hand and smite down another bastard. Do so, and you will be promoted to General Bastard.
>Oh wait, you like your name. Let me mix cocktails until I come up with something else.

>>3416346
>Is that a cocktail set? You LOVE cocktails.
Em's all about the cocktail

>>3416346
>It's cocktail o'clock

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>>3416642
>>3416967
>>3417372
>>3417524
“OKAY,” you shout. “EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

“You’re the only one speaking,” Grievance mutters.

“SILENCE!” You whip a barstool off Abyss’s back and smash it over his FAAAAACE.

“Where did you--”

“Okay no see when I say ‘silence’ it generally means SHUT--”

Chair.

“THE--”

Chair.

“FUCK--”

Chair.

“UP!”

Silence, but for the whimpering. Ah, your flock, how they’ve gone astray without your guiding hand.

“Now then,” you collect yourself, sliding off Abyss’s shoulders. “There’s… scotch, and cucumber gin, and some kind of blue stuff, and… they make bitters in one-liter bottles?”

“Oh god,” whispers Grievance, looking from face to plastered face. The hour of his doom is known to him.

“Yeah that’s all going in there,” you declare. “This is a Manhattan…” you pause for deadly emphasis. “Project.”

“Gandhi, no!” Abyss exclaims, horrified.

“Gandhi yes,” you hiss, lifting the cocktail jigger.

You don’t have ice, but you DO have rocks, and ice is just depressed rocks. Don’t question you, you’re a doctor.

“You have six arms,” you declare to Grievance, “You get six drinks.” He tries to protest, only to find your saber lenscap at his nose. “Six drinks. You want to be the governor, don’t you? You want to cut the ribbons.”

“I--” He falters, forced to choose between death and dignity. “I want to cut the ribbons.”

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” You chant.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Abyss thunders.

“Please just do what he says I don’t want to die,” says Lamprey.

“Erm,” comes a timid, polite voice over your comms. “Captain… Emerald?”

“You address the Baron von Hoochenstein!” You reply. “Who presents themselves at court?!”

“I, uhm--this is Navigator Iris, with the Fifth… oh, dear…”

“Call a Lifesaver,” pleads Lamprey.

Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EV6E13xODyA
Style Rating: A(lcoholic)
WARNING! Your shenanigans levels are exceeding safety tolerances! You must stop partying immediately!

“NEVER,” you inform the narration.

>

>>3418848
Iris has called. Therefore we must somehow get her drunk too. After making sure Grievance takes his shots.

>>3418848
We can hold a conversation while force feeding this guy liquor don't worry about it. SIX ARMS SIX DRINKS NOW.

>>3418884
All in due time.

>>3418848
First up, get this Navigator to start drinking. She can't give accurate info unless she's at our level: the wavelengths won't sync.

Second, we have troops now, we need a campaign. Now a few Christmases ago, our sister tried to convert the ocean into booze. It was a noble effort, but due to aliens from another world or whatever, she failed. We cannot allow this to stand, and so should strike a blow against Sapphire's watery nemesis.

We must drink the Detroit River.

>>3418909
man I'm pretty sure that would kill a reploid.

>>3418848
Send everyone at the 5th their nanites
Use an email or something, its nanomachines, son, they can figure out a way to get there.

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>>3418848
Time to get SMOOTH.

>>3418848
We need to complete the perfect cocktail to present our Navigator. This cocktail will combine the utmost skills of all 4 bastard wielders here. The drink's name shall be....

>Final Weapon

>>3418884
No.

We must get ANODE drunk.

And then let nature take its course.

Let the drunk bleed into the main questline, not even the birds can escape our booze now.

>>3418909
>We must drink the Detroit River.
>watery nemesis.

But that's not water anymore...

>>3418884
This. Lamprey doesn't sound drunk enough either, BOOZE HIM THOROUGHLY.

>>3418986
Anode's easy mode though, you just go "hey, wanna get shitfaced?" and he's already at the bar. No, the challenge will be Gopher.

Hunter Command, has Em ever considered weaponized drinking nanites for real? Or I guess I should say nanite toxin. Like, spray it as an aerosol mist, enjoy enemies who are now having issues thinking straight and moving right.

>>3419809
Shooting Star has a mav who weaponizes nanites

Do you think it's possible to convince Abyss to defect? He seems like a great guy for a drunken wannabe-edgelord Maverick. Plus between him, Anode and Em, they can combine to form Ultimate-Mecha-Shiva.

>>3419809
The CARE shenanigans had a Mav with a drunk aura.
He was head of security.

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>>3418848
“Irish!” You declare.

You actually hear the clatter as she upends whatever she was holding. “Y-yes!”

“Yoooooou are SOBER.”

“I mean--generally…?” She ask-says hesitantly.

“You must FIX that.”

“I’m on duty!” She complains.

“So am I! Now find some boozeahol!”

“I, er, uh…” She fades off into the background with a faint ‘oh dear, oh dear,’ before finally coming back. “I have some cherry cordials?”

“GOOD ENOUGH,” you decide. “Now, LAMP REAP!”

“Lamprey,” he wheezes.

“You are hereby judged and found guilty of BEING ABLE TO FORM A COMPLETE SENTENCE!”

Abyss stage-gasps. Good man, Abyss.

“Just… just give me the bottle,” the bounty hunter mumbles, accepting fate. You turn and glare at Grievance, who hastily begins popping his manifold cocktails.

“S’right,” you decide, nodding as you look upon your kingdom.

Then your hand stings with a near-miss of blazing energy.

“WHY ME,” Lamprey cries, gangly limbs severed in one neat bundle.

“I know not what I’ve ventured upon,” says the newest new newcomer, “But I think it ill. You. Green one. Your deeds precede you.”

“I doubt that very much,” mumbles Grievance thickly. Abyss shoves his helmet down over his eyes.

The new arrival is an archetypal samurai, pleated hakama hanging in two loose plates from his belt, light armor cast with gleaming white and artistic cherry petals painted immaculately across the gleaming breastplate. A wide-brimmed conical helmet shades alert, clear eyes, and an elegant, long beam kata rests in one hand, matched by a scabbard on his hip. Wind whips and buffets across the Detroit ruins, whistling past with melancholic foreboding.

“I draw my blade for honor and glory,” the samurai declares. “And I shall not be denied.”

Grievance, eyes unfocused, takes a few steps back, sensing a superior combatant. Even Abyss seems enspelled by the softly spoken, hard-edged words. You’re left in the street, missing your sealife bludgeon, watching the samurai take a ready stance.

“Good, I see you remember how to act the warrior,” he says.

“Let’s not draw this out,” you groan.

“Agreed. The truest essence of swordsmanship lies not in gnashing fury, but in the single, telling stroke.”

You barely, barely resist the urge to air-jack.

“So have I made a study of iaido, to decide the matter in one blow. I see in you perhaps the only true rival these times can afford me. Others may be superior--” You grit your teeth, annoyance cutting through the drunken fog. “--But none have made such an understanding of the weapon they hold.”

“Get on with it,” you growl.

“To the finish, then. One strike, as befits true samurai. I have disabled my shields. I presume you will do th--”

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>>3421320
“THAT IS STUPID.” You roar, streaking past him in a flash, his severed arm flying with you.

“YOU ARE STUPID.” You kick him in the face, lifting him off the ground so you can get both of his legs in one swing.

“ALL OF YOU ARE STUPID!” You cut his other arm off, leaving his stupid torso to lie in the dirt and think about what it’s done. Abyss, Lamprey, and Grievance side-eye each other, and all take slow, careful moves back.

”NONE OF YOU ARE FREE FROM SIN!” You scream, flinging your saber and beaning Abyss right in the chin, snapping his head back with the pommel.

>ULTRAVIOLENCE.

Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzmZOU5hVr8
WARNING!: You have breached the Style barrier! We’re reaching heretofore unmeasured levels of bullshit!
Style Rating: S(mashed!)

>>3421329
ABYSS, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

No votes here, I need to mourn my new favorite getting his ass kicked.

>>3421329
It was at this moment, in a drunken rage.

That Emerald remembered what he truly hates most.

Those goddamn asshole birds.

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>>3421329
>RIP AND TEAR
>BOOZE FOR THE BOOZE GOD, CHUG FOR THE CHUG THRONE

>>3421329
Aight, punishment will be dealt out in order of fuckers messing with our drinks.
Abyss is lightest for he did not mess with the booze. For him, he shall be given helmet noogies until he surrenders with 10 hail marys.
Grievance is next. He suffers for looking like someone who harshes the buzz for everyone. 20 hail marys and a kick in the hyper bombs.
Finally there is Lamprey.. who REMOVED our buzz. His punishment is most severe. 40 hail marys and we shove him in a detroit toilet.
Finally, if ANOTHER four fuckers try any shit about dueling us, trying to ambush us or heavens forbid fuck with our buzz, they will face ALL THE SWORDS. So best drop yer weapons now and surrender or the suffering will be LEGEND.

>>3421474
I mean, Lamprey already had his limbs severed, I vote just the forty hail marys for him and being used as a Bludgeon, he already has the bad karma for harshing our buzz.

Although now that his aerodynamics have improved, he should be promoted to projectile.

>>3421585
hmm.. very well. The threat of a detroit mall toilet swirly, and he must vow to never harsh a man's buzz. Or we will know.

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>>3421329
HIT IT.

>>3421329
Time to initiate the newbie. I see the man has no arms. Get the funnel and some sake, recite drunken haikus for POETIC JUSTICE.

>>3421981
Seconding! Also am I the only o e who gets a "account terminated" from HC's YouTube link?

>>3421981
This is an excellent point, we can't leave him out. Perhaps his sins can purified (or at least pickled) by the divine application of holy water (aka booze). He looks like a tough case though, so make sure to get him thoroughly holied up.

Pretty sure we're gonna be court-martialled later.

>>3421329
So, is Iris still on the line or what?

>>3422198
You're not, that YT account clearly yeed it's last haw.

>>3422790
This song is cursed, I swear to fucking God. This'll be the third link.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TazywZDuj9I

>>3422322
She sure is, she's just fallen into aghast silence.

>>3422882
This sure is going to be fun when Anode invites her down to the Dodo for a drink, and introduces her to his best friend. And by fun, I mean awkward.

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Unfortunately no update in this thread tonight. Might need to hastily marathon the end of the thread Friday evening.

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>>3421329
gigacrushgigacrushGIGACRUSH

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>>3421369
>>3421375
>>3421474
>>3421585
>>3421650
>>3421890
>>3421981
>>3422198
>>3422212
>>3424789
Blazing with anger, you leap like a frenzied animal. Grievance’s eyes widen as he fumbles for a weapon, any weapon, but it’s too late, you’re upon him.

You tumble to the ground, raising your pommel overhead and cracking him in the face with it in an overhead, two-handed slam. He tries to push you off with his myriad arms, but he’s slow and unfocused, succeeding more in tying himself in a knot than dislodging you.

“DO YOU WANT SKY-CAKE,” you scream in his face. He freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

You haul him upright, lifting him over your head like you’re about to christen him Prince of the Lions. “I WILL GIVE YOU YOUR SKY-CAKE.”

You turn and hip-throw, slinging him aside like a shotput and bowling him into a pile of kegs, full of nothing so much as dregs and disappointment.

You launch yourself right after, grabbing Lamprey on one side and Stubs the Samurai in the other. “YOU PIECE’A TRASH.”

You slam them down one after the other, a drumbeat of blunt trauma as you turn their brains into maracas. Finally satisfied with the level of violence, you slam them both down beside Grievance, seizing one of the kegs. Tearing it open with your teeth (”Sweet Jesus,” Abyss gasps), you dump it over them, mostly an unpleasant morass of unfiltered, flocculated hop matter. It’ll do. It’s good enough for them.

“Hrrrrrgbhbll--” Samurai-boy complains.

You stuff the keg over his head and ring it like a gong, before turning on Lamprey.

“Please--” He begs. “Not like this.”

You crouch low and predatory, eyes hungry slits that you all but press against his. “How, then? How instead should you meet judgment? How better?”

“I...uh…”

“No, Lockdown Lamprey. The hangman’s too good for you.”

“He doesn’t breathe,” mumbles the samurai in the keg. You kick it with your heel and he groans at the BONG reverberating through his everything.

“You get a swirly. You get THE swirly.”

“But...but they cut off the water years a...oh. Oh no.”

“Oh, yes,” you whisper, standing upright. “A river runs through it.”

“It’s more sludge than hydromer!” He wails, panicked. “You can’t--!”

“The question is not who will let me,” you declare lightly, “But who will stop me.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything…?” You ask softly, pausing in your march to the sea--er, bay. “Will you swear never to harsh a man’s groove ever again? Leave every buzz unspoilt? Lift a glass and embrace the truth of malts and liquor?“

“Ohgodyesanything ANYTHING!”

“Satisfactory,” you reply, dropping him at your feet. “Then I suppose that leaves our new friend in the barrel.”

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>>3425409
Grievance is a tangled ball of arms, trying to unstick himself and not having much luck with it. Abyss helpfully props the torsosamurai up, pulling the keg back off his head.

“I’ll have your knees,” he snarls.

“You’ll have what I spoon-feed you,” you tell him. He spits out a wad of hoppy mush, glaring at you defiantly. “Abyss! You want to live?”

“I want to drink,” he declares, resolute.

“The purity of your purpose will redeem you. Go. Return to me with the sacred water.”

A thunderbolt behind you cracks the sky. Dust and wind billow past as you stand upright, the samurai and Grievance’s eyes wide as they stare past you.

“Go,” you tell Abyss, turning to face your new challenger.

A foe you’ve met once before, who was nearly the end of you but for grace, luck, and haste. Shiva’s twin voices resound, in time with broadband comms in your mind.

“What is this disturbance?”

This shall be your finest hour.

>ENGAGE

>>3425414
Right, this calls for

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0TzUNti3rY

>>3425414
There is only one answer.

Challenge him to a drinking contest.

>>3425414
>WHAT'S YOUR POISON?!

>>3425414
THEY ARE NOT DRUNK ENOUGH FOR THIS SHIT! NEITHER ARE YOU! NEITHER AM I! SO DRINK!

>>3425409
Moloch loads Megaman Classic DNA.png

>>3425414
>You get off lucky, samurai dude.
>It looks like someone else has volunteered for the Detroit Swirly.

>>3425886
>You will know the reason for the name "Detoilet"

>>3425414
SHIVA! FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK!

>>3425421
https://youtu.be/Qcd62xRQ9e4

>>3426610
A weapon to surpass Cain Labs.

>>3425414
I mean it's gotta be this >>3425469

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>>3426610
Shhh, don't spoil the finale.

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>>3425469
>>3425519
>>3425607
>>3425886
>>3425929
>>3426026
“Okay, fuckboy,” you reply, holding your saber up in challenge. “I owe you for fritzing my brain the not-fun way in Dopplerstan.”

“Yes, I recall you,” the toneless voices reply, unlimbering that massive fuckoff vajra-looking thing again. “You’ll not endure twice.”

“We’ll see who endures what,” you say cooly, sizing him up. You got a good read on him last time, and he’s not too big on hiding his tells.

There--left side.

“We’re gonna see how many drinks you can endure!” You call, breaking right as the rippling saberwave scythes through land and steel alike, trimming down the tops of demolished buildings. The fizzling static pops of heavy magnetism are barely noticeable through all the liquor, as instead you bound closer.

Shiva’s expressionless faces don’t shift as he reverses the blade and plunges it straight down, crackling pulses of energy cascading through the ground. You leap it, rolling clear between two waves, reverse hilt, and jam your saber into the back of his arm.

A moment later, his shields flickering faintly, you’re chased away by a murderous lethal red beam, marching on your heels. You grab a pole and swing high, leaping from the light shroud. The tortured metal bends and falls loose behind you as you come in with a drawing overhead swing. Your flambard is a road flare at midnight, the blazing weapon actually carving a scratch down his raised arms as he blocks.

Static hisses and pops as he mills his arms--not before you take another slice--and the background radiation spikes from two pillars of blue, droning energy, coming in from either side in the world’s slowest clap.

“Your blades are a crutch, child, and I will sweep it from under you.”

If you had dander, you’d raise it. “What’d you say?”

“HE SAID YOU’RE COMPENSATING FOR YOUR TALLYWHACKER,” Grievance calls, clearly still too sober for this world.

“Right. I thought that’s what you did.” Your eyes flash with rage and your voice grows steely.

You kip atop his arm, mantling over it like a tumbler as you snag your boot knife and lash it across his side. “You know--” Stab. “What’s bullshit?” Slice. “The whole ‘dick envy’ thing!”

You handspring off as he tries to seize you in a hand as wide as your whole body. You kick his thumb and crouch the sweep of his vajra, batting a follow-up aside as he tries to magnet-slow you to pin you to the floor. “Oh yeah,” you rant. “Soooo funny, so inventive, so INNOVATIVE, I must use SWORDS because I lament not having a BOOOOOOONERRRRRR.”

Shiva keeps trying, and you backdash out, then twist around his trunklike boot to jam your kris into the back of his knee. “You know what’s worse? You know what’s even fucking worse?! I hear so many compensating jokes on a daily basis that they’re a part of me now! They will NEVER GO AWAY!”

“Child--”

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>>3428732
“I CAN’T STOP TELLING PEOPLE TO SUCK THE DICK I DON’T ACTUALLY HAVE NOR ACTUALLY WANT,” you bellow, kicking off his back to stab him in the head.

“Holy shit,” Lamprey mumbles from somewhere in the dust.

“And while we’re at it, let’s talk about GREEN jokes, my FAVIE,” you snarl. “We’ll make it into a story book! We can call it ‘HOW THE GRINCH KILLED EVERYONE!’”

About then is when Abyss’s thrown bottle sails over Shiva’s heads, and you leap and catch it, slamdunking the contents down into his left-side mouth.

The incessant, sweeping beams waver and falter, Shiva actually stopping and staring down at you as you land.

“What... did you just…”

You ignore him, throwing the bottle at his face (crunch) and catching another, whirling it like the deadliest knife you own. “This is what I want you, and Doppler, and all your other shitty little friends to do.”

“I--I don’t…”

”This is what I want you to do,” you repeat, ducking an almost fearful sweep of his blade. “I want you to kill me, plant a victory garden over my bones, rob a sperm bank and sow the seed…”

“What?” Iris asks, muted horror in her dainty voice.

“Raise you up a healthy crop of human genitalia, and GOBBLE UP A MILLION DICKS LIKE PAC-MAN.”

“What.”

“What.”

“What.”

“You FILTH. You SWINE. You MOTHERFUCKER ON TOAST.” You’re seething in the rage, now, adrift in the boil. “I am going to open your heads with a screwdriver and rewrite your DNA to match the genetic structure of syphilis. And NOTHING WILL CHANGE!”

Shiva’s two voices are tonelessly, hopelessly lost. “Um.”

Abyss is laughing his ass off.

“I will get you adopted by a kindly human spinster just so I can FUCK YOUR MOTHER!” You leap and jam the bottle, whole, into his right-hand face.

“Dude, stop,” Grievance says from the back.

“Oh, suck my dick with administrator privileges,” you grouse, taking a chug of the third thrown bottle for yourself.

Shiva attempts to backhand you, taking a step forward with a crash like the rushing sea. “Enough. I will be mocked no further by one such as you. Behold the face of your end, hunter, for I am--

“Darkwing Duck.”

“...What?”

“You’re Darkwing Duck.”

“...I’m not,” Shiva says numbly.

“Say it.”

“... No?”

“Shay it,” you slur.

“I refuse.”

“I WILL MAKE YOU SHAY YORE NAME ISH DARKWING DUCK.”

Shiva scoffs in stereo. “You can hardly stand.”

“I WILL MAKE IT,” you declare, sheathing your blade and taking a step closer, poking his kneeplate with your finger, “THE SOLE PURPOSHE of my GOD-FORSHAKEN MISBEGOTTEN FUCKFESHT OF A LIFE, to make you say YOU ARE DARKWING MOTHER LOVING DUCK.”

Shiva simply raises his Vajra again. “We shall see about that.”

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>>3428734

-----

“WELL?” You demand, pulling Shiva up from the acidic, rust-run bank of the Detroit.

“I… I’m Darkwing Duck.”

Background Score: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oi7WH7_NO9I
Style Rating: G(in-soaked!)

>Revel in the glory of victory.

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Take a picture.

>>3428738
Damn. Fucking. Straight.

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>>3428738
Tell somebody. Somebody important. Somebody who'll never believe it.

Take a picture with both middle fingers in the shot and send it to Tanker.

Call the cops we don't give a fuck. If anyone else wants to step to this they can GET FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUCKED. Double dose of nanites in Shiva NOW. This is the fate of all who would dare fuck with our booze!

>>3428738
support >>3428794

>>3428738
Send him to robot hell, then take his sword.
And his wallet.

>>3428738
Get a group photo, everybody in frame. Make sure all our new drinking buddies have a copy, so they never forget.

>>3429435
Seconding. Blood is thick, but beer is thicker, and we are now brothers united by that most holy of fluids. And Iris is our half-sister, sort of.

>>3428738
Take pictures, send to literally everyone we know. Then text it to everyone left alive that we know works with or for Doppler, including Doppler, and then send it to Sigma for good measure because who gives a fuck he's probably alive since X has killed him twice already.

Then put it on the internet.

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Satisfied, you drag your captive back from the water (“water,”) throwing him by the scruff beside your collection of no-hopers.

Abyss, your lieutenant, your blessed right hand, has not only found a generous stack of ale, he went through the ruins of the bar you met in and actually brought you the damned bar. Battered and flaked with dust though it it, it’s a perfect perch from which to frame your hands around each of the assembled ‘crew,’ sweeping side to side as you take it all in.

Shiva groans, voices heady from the quadruple dose of nanites you forced him to quaff. While he doesn’t have hair, the Detruit River saw to that, melting his artistic, elegant helmet into spaghetti-string noodles of fatigued metal that you quickly whipped up into the swirlie he deserved.

“Iris, are you recording this?”

“I--uh, I’m trying,” she manages. “But your feed is… it’s almost all static.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you mumble, biting a nanite flask in half and emptying it into your face.

“Excuse me,” comes a new and unfamiliar voice. You, Abyss, Lamprey, Grievance, Torsosamurai, and Shiva all look up as one at the figure’s approach.

He’s massive and broad--not quite as tall as Shiva, but nowhere near so gangly in the limbs for his size. Purple plating with yellow accents mark all his major surfaces, matched by blue hands and feet, green poleyns and pauldrons. Spikes stud his belt and his bracers, the limbs thin cylindrical red. Long spines hang from his back, jutting through a ragged red cloak that obscures his features. Cunnning blue hex optics shine from under the hood, the only facial feature you can make out.

“May I join you?” He asks genially.

You, midway into reaching for your saber, balk. “What, you mean, like… voluntarily?”

He shrugs, a massive rise and fall of his shoulders sending his cloak billowing. “I’d planned on it.”

“...Yeah, sure, go for it,” you reply, scooting over to one side of the bar to allow him to sit.

“Thank you.”

He delicately takes a beer bottle between two massive fingers and lightly flicks the cap off with his thumb, nodding politely as you lean over to offer him a pour of nanites. He takes a sip, as the seven of you look out in tired silence at the skeletonized skyline of Detroit.

“It’s a pity, you know,” he says. “The architecture here was quite beautiful, once.”

“Shyeah?”

The stranger nods. “Classic art deco in the older wings, with a thriving heart of postmodern neogothic. Quite a distinctive profile at night, I’m told.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It does.”

You take another sip in silence.

“Fuck Bauhaus, though,” you say.

“It’s just the worst,” he agrees.

You tilt your bottle toward him, having to reach up like the Statue of Liberty to do so. “Drink to that?”

He clinks his bottle to yours. “And so it is.”

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>>3429701
You take a swig, kicking your legs over the bar. The massive figure simply rests on it like a low stool.

“So what brings you here?” He asks.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders, head truly buzzing. “Had to get away from my boss.”

“Tell me about him.”

You scowl, cracking another bottle. “He’s just--he’s the Bauhaus of Maverick Hunters.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says gently.

“...No, I guess I don’t, that’s not fair.” You admit, heaving a sigh. “Streamline Moderne, maybe.”

He nods. “That’s better.”

“I’m just so frustrated, you know?. My old boss retired...”

You sing your woes, letting the dreaded Sad Drunk wash over you. The stranger listens in silence, nodding occasionally.

“It sounds as though a great deal changed for you, very quickly.”

“True,” you agree. “True. And… well, I’ve gotten so much of what I wanted, but…”

“You’re not so sure you like what you’ve found.”

“You’re good at this.”

“I’m practiced. May I offer a word of advice?”

You top up his bottle with another shot of drunkybots. “Go for it.”

“Be a little less hard on him, and yourself. Try to take a step back from the moment. You can’t control how he behaves, but you can try to act as best you can in response.”

“That’s…” You try to muster an argument, but he’s right. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll try. It’s hard, though.”

He gently pats you on the shoulder, his massive hand making your entire body sway. “It always is. You’ll get there.”

You gently sock his legplate with a pronounced ‘tink.’ “Thanks, big guy.”

“No trouble at all. But on that note, I suppose I should be off. Come, Shiva, let’s go home.”

“Please,” Shiva says in a tiny voice.

You’re trying to weigh the significance of that before they vanish in a pair of beamout trails. You’re left in silence, tottering on the bar, just this side of blackout. You take a last sip of your drink, tilting back, and back, and back to get the last drop, flopping bonelessly over the back of the bar and slowly hauling yourself back up.

“...Never got that guy’s name,” you mutter aloud.

“It’s Turnswallow,” says the torso.

You huck your bottle at the back of his head. “Not you, dickwallop.”

Background Score: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qcd62xRQ9e4
Style Rating: P(LASTERED!)
CRITICAL SHENANIGANS DETECTED. STARLIGHT PROTOCOL ENACTED.

>>3429707
thanks sigma

>>3429707
Are we absolutely, totally 100% certain this isn't canon to the quest? Because damn if I don't want it to be.

Lucid Sigma is best Sigma

>>3429707
>Em gets life advice from Sigma

That's a pretty good indicator that your shit is not together

That song makes me happy everytime I hear it

>>3429707
>Lucid Sigma
Are we sure Em is not hallucinating? Is this the first technical appearance of Sigma for now? Regardless we should toast to current drinking company.

>>3430209
He could be, but the fun of the moment is he might not be, too.

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>>3429767
Pretty good chance he's the drunkest of all