Nereus' magical Austrian adventure, starring NOT YOU!

=======> Be the sailorman.

You are now POPEYE.

=======> Be the troll sailorman.

You are now TROLL POPEYE.

======> Just get on with the intro!

Your name is NEREUS KELPAN.

First and foremost, you love THE LAW. Obviously, you wish to join THE LEGISLACERATORS, truly one of the most honorable extensions of HER IMPERIOUSNESS' WILL. You have studied and worked hard since you can remember to STAMP OUT THE LAWLESS on your home planet. But your are starting to realize it is a fruitless task, for the seed of BETRAYAL and WEAKNESS is planted incredibly deep.

When you are not off gallivanting around WARDING against crime, you very much enjoy a good COMIC BOOK. You also have an interest in VIDEO GAMES, but you aren't very picky at all about the kind you play. Unless it's FISHING. Dear god do you love fishing games. Now and then you have been known to PROWL THE ICY POLAR WATERS IN YOUR HIVEBOAT, salvaging whatever you can from the FROZEN WRECKS OF AGES PAST. And sometimes, very very seldomly, you play up a STORM on your VIOLIN AND ACCORDION.

Your trolltag is eternalMoratorium, and --everytHing you say is as solid as your Hammer.-H

___________________________

You stand in your mealblock, which is also the bridge of your hiveboat. The engines are shut off, and your lusus helped bring the ship to a complete stop. You are once again in the icy waters of the planet, and you've sent your lusus off on icebreaking duty. He was more than happy to oblige....Sometimes you think he's actually not all there in the head. Man, so awkward!

Your digestion sac is full of lobster gumbo and Imperial Crown cola, your almost pet purrbeast is nibbling away on meat scraps in the corner, and the sun isn't long set. The rest of the night is ahead of you, and you're ready for anything.

What do you do?


(aZ I'M JACKIN' YOUR IDEAS. >83 but no seriously, I felt like this would be cool to do, too! I may or may not write at my full multi-paragraph level from time to time if I feel the inspiration!)

((Jack dat idea >8]. Also RC COLA IS AWESOME.))

=======> Snuggle the purrbeast

=======> Snuggle ＣＡＴＥ the purrbeast

You wait until Jury has finished his feeding, then scoop him up, with his only response being a light growl as you rouse him from his sedentariness. You plop down in the chair you sit in while steering your hive and Jury settles down into your lap, purring quite contentedly because the both of you know you are going to spend a good deal of time just petting him. The purrbeast is clearly the true owner of this hiveboat, not you.

And you do indeed spend a good 15 minutes just petting Jury and staring out at the ice field (As well as the gigantic sharktopus tearing up the ice field and looking like a huge fucking spaz doing it) before you finally place him back down on the floor and get up. Damn it you have a whole night ahead of you, you can't spend it all playing with a pussy!

What next?

=======> Examine respiteblock

=======> Examine respiteblock

Suddenly the hairs on the back of your neck start to tingle. You have a sneaking suspicion something is going on in your respiteblock. Without a moment's hesitation you draw your Navy revolver and slide down the railing of the bridge's stairway, barrel through your sleuthblock, and yank open the door to your respiteblock, and...nothing! Not content, however, you begin a thorough search of the block.

The Captain Steel, Troll Batman, and antique Bass Hunter 64 posters are all undisturbed. The inflatable furniture hasn't stirred in the slightest, nobody behind any of it. The web of wires and cables around the older model tv you use for gaming is still in the same pattern you laid it down in. The television you actually use FOR television is still on the same channel turned to the same volume. Your husktop is still undisturbed on its comic pile, and the piles themselves are still the same as you remember. The entire room is seemingly untouched and undisturbed. Still, you aren't content.

You clamber up the rope ladder on one side of your respiteblock. The trap door is still shut and locked. You unlock and pop open the hatch, and clamber out onto the block's roof. The crates containing the LAWs you use as anti-ship weapons are still firmly locked, and investigation reveals they've still got the same number of LAWs in each. You also can't see a ship anywhere in sight, nor a wake, nor a dark shadow under the water that might indicate the very, very slim possibility of someone having repaired a submarine. Plus your lusus is still off breaking up the ice field, and for sure he would have alerted you if there was a ship nearby...that, or maybe there was and he just ate it himself. Either way.

You take a running jump from the roof of your respiteblock and land, albeit stumbling and falling, on the roof of your cleanseblock. From there, you carefully lower yourself over the edge of the block's structure to the stern balcony. The tarpaulin on the mounted M60 is still in place, and an investigation of the ammo box shows it to be at the same number of rounds as the last time you fired it. Finally, an examination of your cleanseblock shows it to be empty and undisturbed. It must have really been nothing.

What now?

=======> Continue le parkour.
=======> Alternatively, get ye spinach can.

=======>

You plop your rich rump down onto the couch and turn the television's volume back up to an audible level....Sigh, the channel's still running it's auspitice-drama marathon. It's been like three perigrees and they're STILL doing it. You waste half an hour flipping through channels and just seeing one pile of dreck after another until you are just about ready to put a bullet in the tv out of frustratio- WOAH SHIT.

You are suddenly thrown from your seat when your hiveboat lurches violently to one side. Not enough to capsize it, but enough to leave you on the floor with an inflatable couch on your head. You clamber back up onto the roof of your respiteblock, and...Oh. Of course.

It's your lusus. Rocking the boat must have been his way of getting your attention. He's dragged a frozen, rusted, and blasted to shit shipwreck out of a nearby glacier. Great. Clearly the best thing to do with your night is to wander around inside some rusty, frozen, probably ice-trog infested shipwreck. Still, can't let him down, and you bet he just looks as excited as a 1600 foot long tentacled shark can look, though you can't see his face. You dash across the tentacle he has raised as a bridge between your hiveboat and the wreck, and then taking a flying leap onto the deck of the other ship.
...Only to lose your damn footing on the ice, slip, and slide back into a gigantic frozen pile of rope.

What now, twinkletoes?

(TOTALLY parkour, PM. Totally.)

=======> Swear like a sailor

=======> Make your scantily clad yet tastefully illustrated seatroll tattoo dance! MAKE HER DANCE!!!

=======> Swear like a sailor

You normally don't swear a lot unless you're really enraged, but for some reason you suddenly feel overcome by the desire to swear like you have never sworn before You actually spend 2 solid minutes just sitting there flinging around every last slur you can think of, and apparently in doing so you decide to rant about how the rope's lusus was seen in some very disturbing troll on lusus pornographic videos, or something to that effect.

But eventually your sanity returns to you and you dig yourself free of the rope and decide it'd probably be a good idea to don your warmer padded gloves and also a warm hat while you're here. It'd be a shame if you froze to death here in some random wreck in a glacier.

=======> Make your scantily clad yet tastefully illustrated seatroll tattoo dance! MAKE HER DANCE!!!

For some reason, either the swearing or the cold, probably the cold, has made you pine for a tattoo, of...a sea dweller? Perhaps of Skotad..? Wait, no. No no, bad idea. Nobody must ever know you want to...how would Azrael's cartoon shows put it...sugoi his yaois. Yes, you are entirely 100% certain that's what they say. That crush has to be locked in a box, put inside a military crate, locked inside a larger freight box, then airlifted into the mountains and buried deep within one of the remote ruined military bases. That way nobody will ever find it.

You push the lingering thoughts of Skotad out of your mind, and grab some of the rope. After a good while of bending and twisting it to get it pliable again, you tie one end around a cannon on the deck, and throw the rest down a large nearby hole, and climb down. Immediately afterwards, you retrieve your flashlight headband from your sylladex and fasten it around your head.
Well, now what?

=======> Ponder upon why exactly Skotad makes your kokoro go doki-doki.

=======> Go spelunking!

=======> Ponder upon why exactly Skotad makes your kokoro go doki-doki.
=======> Go spelunking!

As you make your way throughout the ship and find nothing more interesting than old dried out bunk-coons and spare ammunition in too big or too small a caliber(Who even USES 2mm rounds?!) for anything you own, you find your thoughts drifting to Skotad. That frizzy hair, those adorable headfins, the probable size of...

OH GOD DAMN IT. You got lost in your fantasizing again and now you're lost. Not only lost, but you've swerved off into some random cabin. Fortunately, luckily, or maybe coincidentally this one isn't completely empty! Okay sure, it's not FULL OF SWEET LOOTS, but at least it's not just dried-out coons and useless ammo.

After giving the door a test from the outside to confirm that yes, you can indeed close it without trapping yourself inside, you shut and bolt the door. A small fire is built from useless document scraps and tinder from your sylladex, you overturn one of the recuperacoons for a seat, and spread out the three most interesting-looking things in a small area in front of you. Everything else you just cram into your sylladex because it's all just usual stuff like 9 mm ammo, .44-40 rounds, magazines from the time, maps, news periodicals, porn, no big deal and you'll look it all over afterwards.

There's a sylladex card with an item contained in it, in what seems to be an airtight bioplastic case with a note taped to it, a bioplastic bag with what appears to be a small book inside it, and a small metal box with 'D0 n0t open, fuckwit!' etched onto it. It also has three seperate padlocks on it.

Which do you examine first?

=======> Read the note, then deal with the airtight case it was attached to and revel in whatever mysteries it may contain!

=======> Read the note, then deal with the airtight case it was attached to and revel in whatever mysteries it may contain!

The mysterious ethers command you to go for the sealed sylladex card. Luckily the note is still legible!

Quote :

Y0u w0uld n0t B3LI3V3 h0w l0ng the trail 0f bl00d this thing left b3hind is! W3 ar3 talking s3rial cull3r murd3r myst3ry l3v3ls h3r3! But h3y, I cam3 thr0ugh f0r y0u, didn't I? Y0u want3ed it, y0u got it! Th3 SK-1, first spac3 suit 3v3r us3d by tr0lls! Just, uhhh...th3r3's n0 h0rn h0l3s 0n th3 h3lm3t f0r som3 w3ird-ass r3as0n, s0 that's a sacrific3 y0u g0tta mak3 if y0u and the blu3 wanna g3t y0ur fr3aky hist0rically significant 0bj3ct pail-filling 0n.

......Those last few words are something you REALLY wish you'd never read. You pry open the case, pop the card in your sylladex, and release the item. Yep, it sure is a space suit, if incredibly-gaudy looking (WHY ORANGE?!) and primitive. You are holding an incredibly significant piece of history here...eh, you'll give it to Azrael or something, she'll probably enjoy it. She likes the past.

What next, the book, or the locked box?

=======> BOOK TIME

=======> BOOK TIME
You re-capchalog the several milennia-old space suit, and turn your attention to the bagged book. Carefully, you open the bioplastic bag, and slide the book out...only to immediately drop that shit like it's hot, because you are consumed with unnatural fanboy squeeing and flailing and just generally looking and sounding undignified.



IT'S AN HONEST TO THE CONDESCE COPY OF THE FIRST ISSUE OF THE FIRST VOLUME OF THE FIRST INCARNATION OF GOTHAM CENTRAL HOLY SHIT. THIS THING IS CENTURIES OLD AND YOU DIDN'T THINK COPIES STILL EXISTED BUT HERE IT IS IN NOT ONLY LEGIBLE CONDITION BUT ALMOST FUCKING MINT.

It takes you a good long while to calm yourself down but you're still completely giddy and you just can't wipe that goddamn grin off your face. Gotham Central, which shows the lives and work of completely ordinary legislacerators, has been through thousands of issues, hundreds of volumes, and dozens of relaunches and reboots since its creation centuries ago. AND NOW YOU OWN A COPY HOT DAMN.

Do you open the locked box now, or run back to your respiteblock to squeal some more?

=======> Multitask!! Unlock the box while squealing.

=======> Store this unimaginable treasure in your POINDEXTER (c) FIREPROOF VAULT.