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Archive: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com
The IRC: suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com, #MHQ
The Twitter: twitter.com
The Recap (thanks to Scarab): pastebin.com
You are Captain Anode, in for some sorely-needed repairs.
Emphasis on sorely. You get to experience the joy of having no arms for a few minutes as they examine the damage to your remaining limb and simply remove it, shoulder and all, to effect the repairs. Wren, perhaps unsurprisingly, cut deep. Your other arm is actually in better shape--taken straight off, it's mended and reattached before the one you came home with.
You have a lot of time on that bed to let your thoughts chase each other around--you opt instead to focus on upgrades, even comming Susan and talking about plans to kit out the squad a little further.
He's genuinely baffled when you mention some of the possibilities. "I'm not going to pretend dash systems wouldn't do us wonders in the field," he says, "but that is a whole hell of a lot of money to just give to four glorified mooks. Sir."
In the end, you make plans to start with some specialty gear--some shields and a slaved Lockon Hunter rifle--and sequester away about forty grand towards that. If you change your mind, you can always just take it back, but you doubt the team is going to have time to get familiar with their gear before they deploy with you next.
For yourself, you opt to upgrade your ailing Skippers--they never had an issue with speed, only damage, and now, with Wren's data, you've made a monster. The arguable weakest weapon in your toolkit has just becoming a contender for the strongest, with massive projected damage against any target vulnerable to wind, explosive, or shrapnel-based attacks. The ammo counter has been halved, but you're not entirely sure you care. You also replace your expended battery, and ask for some improved buster parts while your arms are in the shop--an enhanced compressor that will play hell with shield systems that would have scoffed at your cyclers before.
However dark things got in France, they can't be all bad, you muse as you finally return to your room, hefting one of the bottles of wine Rosé sent you. You never really 'got' wine, but you feel like this is as good an excuse as any to start.
>You were itching for an excuse to hit the bar anyway. Allons-y.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
>Go check on someone. (Specify)
>Other?
And good morning, everyone. Like I said on twitter, this'll be a bit of a slow thread. Lots to get through but no real hurry.
Work has been a demon lately, and will continue to be for the next six months. In the meantime, now that OP is up, I'm gonna knock out my daily routine and check back in shortly.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
Information is important and it's hard to get it while drunk. Besides, we could use the data in figuring out who is next. Though, personally I'd like to go for Sabomole. Wren made his mission easier and we could do some fun things with his weapon. Would also unify a war front in general.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
Welcome back, HC.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
Yeah, would make sense to figure out our next move. Then with time permitting, we can either check up on people or head to the bar for a quick break.
Woo, made it to a thread before it was dead! Have a colored version of someone else's art which I'm not sure is ok or not!
Fun Fact: there is in fact only one reference to Grach that refers to his coloration. He has brown eyes.
>Go check on someone. (Specify)
Therapist
And of course every silver lining has a cloud. Good day all!
Good afternoon, Cain.
I'm with this guy
Also, this alternate I made while bored.
>that is a whole hell of a lot of money to just give to four glorified mooks
Hey, what's better than a guy who doesn't die? FIVE guys who don't die!
Niiiiice.
Seconding therapist, then on to the intel-gather.
Then we gather an elite team to assassinate some good wine.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
Stay informed.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
As glorious as getting right proper drunk sounds, first make sure that all our people are still in the right number of pieces.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
learn about how shit is going then once we learn about that THEN we can go to our therapist or go for a drink to celebrate or forget depending on the news.
>Business first. You're in a war, you may as well stay informed.
Anode really ought to talk to therapist soon, but info gathering will let us know how soon.
Just about done with the regimen, will be writing again soon.
>Business first.
Always go for intel!
Changing my vote from this
to his idea
Err, sorry, that may have been confusing, I meant that I (the second linked post) was changing my vote to his (the first linked post)
You decide to get the bad news out of the way first--repairs had you in for the better part of a day, and then upgrades took up the rest. You’re about to turn on the news when you frown, remembering something.
You’ve been through the wringer--Frog told you as much, and then shit just kept getting worse. And worse. And worse.
You’re looking for that appointment calendar your therapist--Cling, his name was--sent you, only to find it hasn’t been updated since sometime last week.
The last data entry is a note, formal and prim.
“To whom it may concern,
I regret to inform you that MScOT Cling was fatally wounded during the attack on Maverick Hunter Headquarters. As there are personnel and funding shortfalls in every branch and department, at this time the number of patients far outweighs our capacity to provide health services. While I am stepping into his role and continuing outreach to all his patients, we request your patience in arranging for occupational therapy sessions. If you have a pressing need, please contact us to book an appointment in our queue as soon as possible, and if it is critical, please call local emergency services.
Thank you,
Phillip Tversky
Doctorate of Occupational Therapy“
That’s…
That is just a giant kick in the soul, right there.
He was going for a doctorate, you remember--the old fashioned way, classical education in a university. He was going to be done sometime this year, he’d said. ‘If things go to plan.’
God damn it.
With the bad news already rolling, you scoff and toss your datapad away sourly, flipping your wallscreen to the hunter internal network, reading the crawl as you listen in.
The war has progressed…
Hunters struggling on US West Coast
Critical energen fields recaptured by 17th Commander X
Fighting nears WPRC borders
0 Unit Commander Zero retires Philosopher lieutenant Javelit Whitestride
Abidjan imposes curfew in wake of Maverick crime spree.
Researchers dispute "Maverick Virus" theory
Maverick Hunters 9th Rangers forces ambushed in Borneo
Defiant Doppler broadcasts message declaring "war of pure purpose"
Vladivostok's children present wreath honoring "Zelenyy Geroy"
Flaminglow admits Doppler airstrip "won't be taken from the sky"
Popular performer Stellar Atlantica still missing
Reploid engineering community mourns loss of prominent Californian scientist and family
Deadly Maverick put down by Hunters, armed forces in France
Tensions rise at Paris Panel
Strike against Urbis Caelestis repelled
Halcyon promotes "great leap forward" in military Reploid design
Local tesla coil painted blue, has stupid look on face
...wait, wh--
You plummet to the floor beneath a sudden falling lump of steel, thrashing reflexively as you find Soul Foxfire sitting on top of you.
“Blue spark plug located,” she declares in her best news anchor voice, “researchers report high likelihood of jelly, experts attest ‘jam don’t shake like that.”
>What.
>Put it in.
Wrestle her down. Pin her to the ground.
Ask how the hell she got out of custody.
>comrades are dead
>nearly died
>put down mav who didn't want to live
>go to therapist
>therapist is dead
the suffering never ends.
>No aggressive action, not after the last few ones have been relentlessly lethal.
>"I....you know what, I think I'll just sit here and digest the news."
>Reploid engineering community mourns loss of prominent Californian scientist and family
Please, someone reminds me where exactly we are from
>"You've got five seconds to start explaining before my regrets of not killing you catch up to me."
Either the scientist Atlantica stole, or....yeah, probably that.
I don't think they'll call forward to Gate or Ciel Eugenics just yet.
>What.
Well someone seems to be in a good mood, at the least. They let you roam about for awhile or were you just that eager to visit?
If it helps, you're thinking of the wrong coast. Still sucks though.
It seems our reason to drink has tripled in the last hour. Shenanigans aside, how did you get out of custody and aside from your unhealthy desire of spark plugs and your ass, what do you want?
We're from Philly. It's none of our moms or dads.
"They let YOU out of custody faster than Grach? I call bullshit."
Oh, thank god. Also, seconding this vote
More seriously, the only correct answer to this creature is a pleasant greeting without acknowledging her BS.
Third this.
First off, isn't Flaminglow dead?
Second off, tell her that a lack of bullshit right now gets free booze and booze like products because we just got to hunt a suicidal ex S. And then shenanigans on others.
News-report quip back at her.
Yes, yes he is. Whoopsie!
We're good at this.
He got better.
Or worse.
>"First chance I get, I'm strapping you into a chair and making you watch cheesy movies. The worst I can find."
...In the not-too-distant future, somewhere on Hunter Base?
That's on me. Checked the wrong roster list.
...or maybe it's a MORE DIFFERENT Flaminglow!
>Therapist dead
Godammit Cain Labs
"I am not going to ask. I am not going to ask because there is no reason on Earth that will be good enough. I am going close my eyes and count to 10, and if you're still here, I'm going to start shooting and not stop until this entire base is nothing but molten slag. And then I'm going to go full Maverick and conquer Disneyland."
Must have made for an awkward press conference
"We're not going to be able to take the airstrip by sky."
>"Sir, aren't you dead?"
"…Shit."
Reploid designers went 'fuck it' and start making recolors.
>Breaking News! Maverick infiltrated Hunter Headquarters, self-destructing on live television before authorities could apprehend him!
>They say he was dressed up as the deceased Flaminglow, managing to make it all the way to the public conference before anyone realized.
Indeed.
Thus was the rise and fall of Schrodinger Flaminglow, maverick infiltration specialist
Where are we going to find a token human?
It'll be one of the troops from the Wren op insane enough to get back onto the field.
He survives improbably well.
We really ought to send something for them. Especially for the families of those who died for us to succeed.
I think the greatest thing we could have given them was a dead Wren. We don't really need to do anything else.
>Soul Foxfire
Huh. That's convenient.
I was going to suggest that we contact Wellington about our new OPAL thingy, ask him for input on how to use it. If he doesn't know, he could definitely direct us to someone on Recon who would. Asking an information specialist for tips seems like a better plan than just blundering about the battlefield waiting for it to werk reel gud.
But we could definitely grill Foxfire. She should know more than anyone.
We'd still have to talk to Wellsy later, though, because like hell do I trust Foxfire.
We should definitely call up Wellsy if we're going to drink that wine the French sent us.
Also, is Spider still around? 'Cause I feel like he should definitely be making sure former Maverick mercenaries aren't roaming the halls unsupervised.
“So, I seem to recall arresting you,” you say calmly, craning an arm around her side to channel-surf.
She mock-pouts, curling her face into an expressive frown as she taps a few buttons and releases the hack on your terminal screen. “Is that all I am to you, Lieutenant?”
“Captain,” you correct dryly.
“Captain? Just a convict? I thought I was the Valjean to your Javert.”
“You can be the Gavroche to my senseless, unfeeling musket volley,” you reply. “So what, time off for good behavior?“
She breaks the coy act to just shoot you a smug grin. “Do I seem like the ‘good behavior’ type to you?”
“Not really, no,” you shrug, sitting up despite her sitting on you.
“Good. No, I just up and snuck off. Nice Cloud Man figure, does he spin?”
You ignore her commentary on your decor (how long was she in here?) and continue with your unfazed routine. “You know I could probably just yell and get you killed, right?”
“I can run pretty fast. Plus, your esteemed leader still needs me, Yeouiju or not. I’ve been pushing his buttons early and often.”
“Are you trying to get him to kill you as soon as he’s got what he wants?”
“Well, he could do that,” Foxfire replies, tapping her chin. “Orrrr, he could let the current foremost expert on the project with hundreds of hours playing with the thing help him develop it even further.”
You blink. “I… guess that makes sense.”
“He’s pretty thrilled about it, you know?” She taps a button on her arm panel (didn’t you force her to lose that?) and the news crawl returns, rewinding back to Halcyon’s name. “Personally, I thought he should have called it a Five Year Plan instead, but…”
“Seriously, what brings you here?” You ask, twisting away as she reaches for the remote. She takes the opportunity as you roll over to swat you on the kiester-plate.
“Actually, believe it or else, I wanted to drop by to give you some news. Is that wine?” Foxfire practically drips off your side like an ooze, reaching for the basket before you grab her tail.
“What kind of news?”
“Maverick-y news. Turns out those mechaniloids they gave me for a steal? Viral.”
You pause and turn back. “You don’t say.”
“Makes sense, in hindsight--they told me that to shut me up. It worked, too--for a minute, at least.”
“Scared straight, I can tell,” you grumble, pulling one of the wine bottles out of her hand.
“There, but the grace of god. By the way, you have a call coming.”
“Wh--”
Foxfire hits the ‘answer’ button as soon as the screen flashes, and immediately busies herself wrapping around your front and rather abruptly kissing you on the mouth.
“Captain? Is th--am I interrupting something?” You recognize the voice from the wallscreen as Commander Albatross, new leader of the 7th.
“No,” you cough, grabbing Foxfire and bodily flinging her against the wall with a ‘hyeek!’ and a crash. “No, you are not.”
“Right…” Albatross clears his throat. “First, I wanted to inform you that Stillwater Phasian was successfully recovered and has returned to service.”
“That’s a relief,” you reply. “That mission was rough.”
He nods. “Second...on behalf of my unit, I wanted to send you my thanks for helping take care of Wren.”
“She died sane,” you say, momentarily forgetting Foxfire. “She wanted to send her thanks and tell you she was sorry.”
“I suspected as much,” Albatross replies gravely. “We’ll try to make sure she gets the respect she deserved.”
You fall into silence for a moment… disrupted only by Foxfire upending something to try on your met helmet.
“So…” Albatross asks, eyeing her.
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
>Other?
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
One leads into the other for us really. More a 'enough about me and my shenanigans, what do you mean' sort of thing.
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
Ignore the fox, I suspect it annoys her.
>ex-maverick prisoner of war
I thought she isn't a maverick, just a royal pain?
Remind me what the Yeouiju project is? Is it basically an upscaled V-WES?
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect? (AnotherAnon's vote, since they can't post atm)
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
Denial play all the way.
>>Other?
"A hunter who got infected. The virus used her to kill a few hundred people while I was dealing with you."
I don't like foxfire. It seems that she doesn't really seem to see what she did as bad because she didn't kill anyone, even though the opportunity cost of dealing with her can be measured in blood.
Maverick is a surprisingly flexible term in this situation. I mean, she was working for mavericks at the time, and has shown affinity with performing deeds that could end up fueling terrorist acts, basically.
This Hopefully it's just some hurt feelings within the 7th and not Halcyon/Los Mortales
That's because at the end of the day, Foxfire is a freelancer. She was only a Maverick in that they signed her paychecks at the time. That, plus Foxfire's entire character is "irreverent hacker who toys with her foils."
Could mean that they're going to try and have her remembered as a Hunter instead of a maverick.
As long as she's both a) paid, and b) not dead, she's happy.
Rolling with this.
>Just an ex-maverick prisoner of war. Welcome to my life.
>Hold on, what did you mean about Wren and “getting” respect?
Deflect.
right, and she was cheerfully assisting in mass murder. Amusing personality asides, she's something of a monster.
Not directly. Foxfire was trying to make inroads on command's central computer. She was expectig the Hunters to send someone after her, and she was planning on merely repelling them. Once she was bested, she immediately surrendered.
Instead of adapting DNA from external bodies, it rapidly adapts and reconfigures the user's own. That turned Foxfire's middling B-rated abilities into a really, really diverse bag of tricks that she employed to good effect to be disproportionately dangerous. Imagine that kind of versatility on a bigger, heavier-built combat model, an S- or a G-rank.
Or... Anode, for example.
Should we blame the people who make guns for all the deaths that they cause.
Sure, it's a moral grey area, but 'monster' is going a little far. Amoral bitch would be a better phrase.
"She stuck to my boot and I can't get her off."
this guy is right.
I as a player like her and Anode has a weak spot but until she is repentant for all the death and destruction she has caused I dont think Anode should be emotional able to be buddy buddy with her. Once she dose that at though it would be cool if we slowly and accidentally become tsundre and get in a relationship with her.
I think she wants us to get her off.
...
She is a hacker, she is not our waifu.
No one said anything about waifu, just what she's doing. I really just want to see what happens when she learns about India's allergy to feelings.
she's a merc, who knowingly took a contract to provide hacker support to a bunch of genocidal mass murders during a war. She also had absolutely no trouble trying to kill us when we tried to stop her.
not everything is black and white, but doppler and his ilk are petty godam pitch black, and she was find with helping them for chump change. At best she's deluded, at worst she's a sociopath.
Foxfire is indeed being weirdly affectionate, though. Probably because Anode is one of the only Hunters who won't immediately throttle her now that she's in custody, especially since she knows for a fact that he really could.
She was playing the field. Don't forget that she's the only person in the world with the keys to the Yeouiju project. That's why she struck a deal with the Hunters before Anode arrived that should she lose, she immediately surrender herself to Hunter custody and give them the project. Between Hunters, Mavericks, and most world governments, the Hunters are her safest bet.
Which is why Foxfire is teeeeeeeeechnically now on our side.
“Just an ex-hostile I captured and delights in giving people grief,” you reply.
“I see. ...Is she succeeding?”
“There is no good answer to that question,” you reply honestly, as she perks up and looks your way. “So what was that about Wren?”
Albatross sighs. “As 7th’s head officer to a Captain of another unit, no comment. As an air cavalryman to a friend of the unit... “ You nod, giving him the go ahead. He sighs--you can tell immediately he’s wanted to get this off his chest. “We’ve been fighting Command to let us honor our maverick dead for years. Even before the virus came out--call it tradition from Eagle. He was fair, and calm, even when we had to dispatch traitors. And Eagle himself… well, I won’t bore you with history, but he didn’t have a choice. Commander X letting us mourn him was the kindest gesture in the history of this unit.”
You nod, remembering the 7th’s empty caskets at the memorial. “So what, they don’t want you to? They let you at the funeral.”
“There was one unmarked officer there, Captain,” he replies grimly. “Foxwing Blue. He was the last of his series, and all nine of them have now gone maverick. We were ordered directly not to bring out a casket for him.”
Ouch. “Same problem for Wren?”
Albatross heaves another sigh. “I’ve disciplined four of my enlisted for brawling. In truth, they were provoked in a barfight with some of the other units, rather insulted by our practice of honoring the lost. I suppose I can’t say I blame them, but...”
You frown--even Foxfire seems to be paying attention, her shenanigans quieting behind you. “So treating your traitors as more maverick victims isn’t winning any friends. And Wren…”
“Hurricane Wren served dutifully since the inception of the Maverick Hunters as an organization,” Albatross replies, words cool but eyes hot. “She was there to put down some of the first S-class threats in existence, before we even had that distinction. She turned with Sigma--and now, with Doppler and his virus, we know why. She may not be blameless, but tell me she isn’t another casualty of this war.”
You think back to her remorse, to Blanc’s vengeance turning to ice when he saw her guilt. You shake your head. “I get it.”
“I know you do, Captain,” he replies. “And I promise you, the Air Cavalry will never forget it.”
The conversation is short, after that--a bit of talk about Diamond, and Em’s vengeful hunt for his killer--but ultimately, there’s nothing to gain and nothing to say, and Albatross breaks the call, once again citing his gratitude. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the stress built up from the heavy talk.
A bottle of wine taps you on the shoulder, outstretched from Foxfire’s hand.
“Now seems like the time,” she offers helpfully. Even she can have a little tact, apparently.
>Thank you, but really, get the fuck out.
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
>Other?
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
Never not.
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
Screw it, no better time than the present. Let's go.
>Well, fuck it, consider yourself under armed escort. Wanna go see the Dodo?
Given that our therapist is dead, friends are the next best thing. Frenemies third best, which is, I think, where Foxfire stands at the moment.
Pretty much. She's still a brat, but now she's a brat in Hunter custody.
Attention starvation feels like her motivation... not that I'm saying we should give her attention since I'm pretty sure that'd only encourage her, but yeah.