...And so, there you were, an innocent and hard-working single dolphin mother of millions that you graciously hadn't even recycled yet, about to rightfully reward yourself with a light snack of grey-zone offal that would surely never be missed, when you detected naught but the itch of a pesky narrative wriggling into your outer membranes. Peculiar! You thought. The pitiful parasite must have thought itself quite clever [it was, ma'am] as you detected the fetid aroma of dirty buzzers flooding the breach in its wake.
Never had such vermin dared infiltrate your glorious conceptual sphere before. Whatever did the infinitesimal nuisances expect to accomplish? [Oh, wouldn't you like to know] Buzzers or no, a narrative could scarcely hope to even nudge your actions without the energy of dozens of delayed updates. Well, it was no matter. You needed only scratch them away with a tiny pseudopod of your outer conceptoplasm, and they'd have never existed at all. But just as you prepared to almost effortlessly obliterate the filth...yet another laughable distraction invaded your perception.
It was the unmistakable odor of an even plumper, juicier grey-zone nugget, but one so bold as to interrupt your playful snack. You sensed a connection between the two, though not one of progenitor and offspring. Did this...thing...seek to devour YOUR morsel first?! No...it was a different kind of vibration. One that was altogether indescribable to your understanding, except that it at once amused and repulsed you.
...But speaking of progeny...something else was there, too...A much more familiar fragrance. One of the sweetest of all conceptual flavors the range had to offer: the unique sumptuousness that was one's own offspring. And not just any offspring, at that! Escaped demispawn, you were sure. Stunted nutrient stores that must have somehow escaped from your old larder. The poor things, you thought, deprived so long of their intended end. How terrible it must have been, to continue persisting undevoured by your own magnificent lifebearer! To live so pointlessly beyond the gift of death she had prepared for them especially! And now, here they were, oblivious captives of the inferior and despicable greything.
Still...despite your confidence in your own majesty, something about this whole situtation felt...different.
You steeled yourself, and let loose a magnificent battle-squeal as the decrepit biped struck...
Never had such vermin dared infiltrate your glorious conceptual sphere before. Whatever did the infinitesimal nuisances expect to accomplish? [Oh, wouldn't you like to know] Buzzers or no, a narrative could scarcely hope to even nudge your actions without the energy of dozens of delayed updates. Well, it was no matter. You needed only scratch them away with a tiny pseudopod of your outer conceptoplasm, and they'd have never existed at all. But just as you prepared to almost effortlessly obliterate the filth...yet another laughable distraction invaded your perception.
It was the unmistakable odor of an even plumper, juicier grey-zone nugget, but one so bold as to interrupt your playful snack. You sensed a connection between the two, though not one of progenitor and offspring. Did this...thing...seek to devour YOUR morsel first?! No...it was a different kind of vibration. One that was altogether indescribable to your understanding, except that it at once amused and repulsed you.
...But speaking of progeny...something else was there, too...A much more familiar fragrance. One of the sweetest of all conceptual flavors the range had to offer: the unique sumptuousness that was one's own offspring. And not just any offspring, at that! Escaped demispawn, you were sure. Stunted nutrient stores that must have somehow escaped from your old larder. The poor things, you thought, deprived so long of their intended end. How terrible it must have been, to continue persisting undevoured by your own magnificent lifebearer! To live so pointlessly beyond the gift of death she had prepared for them especially! And now, here they were, oblivious captives of the inferior and despicable greything.
Still...despite your confidence in your own majesty, something about this whole situtation felt...different.
You steeled yourself, and let loose a magnificent battle-squeal as the decrepit biped struck...
THE MYSTERIOUS GREYZONER (AND YOUR RIPENED SPAWN) ATTACKS!
Music: Wild Arms 2 - Dungeon HOrror
CHOOSE "YOUR" ACTION?!
MOTHER DOLPHIN (L???) (ATK: ???)
>SPURT
MOTHER DOLPHIN USED SPURT!
1d20 SPURT ROLL: 7 DOLPHLETS SPURTED!
1d20 SPURT ROLL: 7 DOLPHLETS SPURTED!
...Something, itching in the back of your dolphin brain, has told you to SPURT. Of course it has! It's what you're best at, and it's always your decision! Your jaws dribble with delight as your innards churn. You neither know this nor care, but the process is more than the biological replication of physical meat. The very essence of what you are, what you represent, reaches deep into the dark well of where you really came from. What it finds is a little like the blackish scum clogging an old drain, and as it digs its tendrils through the half-oily, half-gelatinous muck, it faintly detects something like movement. The faint, tickling shudders of unnamed possibilities that yearn to be realized. Your concept clenches around these desperate motes, pulling them from the ooze in a great, sopping fistful, and they are dragged from the sludge of meaninglessness through the layers of your meaning until they have emerged into your FL;ESH, and in doing so have become a thing as real and definite as yourself, and they suckle on your nourishing realness and your definition becomes theirs, and so does your hate, and they grow their f/esh until it can no longer fit inside of yours and must be brought from the i n s i d e of the fllshh to its o ut ss i d e in the magnificent eruption of pain and slime and squealing confusion that brings so many things into reality ever since s h e was realized and you people have no idea how unpleasant it feels to be a narration right now, having to relay this to you is not unlike what you might experience if you had to wear a full body latex rubber membrane filled with wet, cold pasta, so while this narration has more or less said this before, you really ought to appreciate all I'm putting up with for the both of us to survive this mess. Ahem:
You rattle your dreadful dolphinly jaws in delight as the little atrocities gush forth from your viscera, reveling in hedonistic joy over the searing agony it causes your own /;;leshh,...but there's something else, too. A shiver in the concept around you, a little twitch in the surrounding zone as more of your kind intrude into its wounded borders...
SOMETHING INCREASES BY SOME AMOUNT!
THE ENEMY GREYTHING ATTACKS!
The thing does something irrelevant and pitiful. You do not notice what it is and you do not care. Soon enough its meat will be your own.
The thing does something irrelevant and pitiful. You do not notice what it is and you do not care. Soon enough its meat will be your own.
CONFUSED DOLPHLET ATTACKS!
How did this poor little one ever escape your notice? Does it not understand its purpose? It must be terrible to have gone on being alive like this, never benefiting the growth of your poor mother's f LL eS H.
How did this poor little one ever escape your notice? Does it not understand its purpose? It must be terrible to have gone on being alive like this, never benefiting the growth of your poor mother's f LL eS H.
CONFUSED DOLPHLET ATTACKS!
The attack causes you no pain at all. To be a dolphin and inflict no pain would be the saddest thing you can imagine, if you were capable of sadness. All you know is that these two will be so grateful when they cease existing.
The attack causes you no pain at all. To be a dolphin and inflict no pain would be the saddest thing you can imagine, if you were capable of sadness. All you know is that these two will be so grateful when they cease existing.
YOU SUSTAIN 2 DAMAGE!
>BOMBABY
You've barely recovered from your last SPURT, your tattered exomembranes still knitting themselves together as you wring out every dribble of sludge from their spongy layers, painfully exuding one more smear of dolphin-concept. You squirt this wee one full of your most pugnacious humours, forcing countless hateful colors of gastro-intestinal acids to share space with one another. The antisocial juices seethe with narrow-minded outrage as they intermingle in the prison of your offspring's cystic abdominal cavity, and boiling hot pus sputters in protest from the single, blackened vein that twitches from its cranial polyp.
...You have never seen a child so beautiful.
1d5 COUNTDOWN ROLL: 3
The swollen little nugget squeals with joy as it feels the caustic stew building pressure in its guts, and squeals with even more joy as its simple brain finally connects the meaning of the sensation, thrilled by the realization of its impending fate. You squeal back, equally amused by the sole purpose of its birth. This shared moment of sadistic nihilism is perhaps your kind's closest equivalent to what other things would call "affection." It is, in a bent way, deeply special to you, and you barely register the sensation that you have called more attention to your presence.
SOMETHING INCREASES BY SOME AMOUNT!
THE DOLPHLETS ATTACK!
You ooze with pride as your spawn engage whatever processes of mindless violence your fllLLeSH bestowed upon them in a flurry of snapping jaws, smacking flippers, sputtering blowholes, gouging nails and whipping umbilical tendrils. These efforts subject their own twisted anatomy to at least as much agony as they could ever possibly deliver, hence the ear-splitting chorus of hysterical shrieks...truly, there is nothing like a newborn's first laughter to warm a mother's bile ducts.
1d10 +7 DAMAGE ROLL: 12
You ooze with pride as your spawn engage whatever processes of mindless violence your fllLLeSH bestowed upon them in a flurry of snapping jaws, smacking flippers, sputtering blowholes, gouging nails and whipping umbilical tendrils. These efforts subject their own twisted anatomy to at least as much agony as they could ever possibly deliver, hence the ear-splitting chorus of hysterical shrieks...truly, there is nothing like a newborn's first laughter to warm a mother's bile ducts.
1d10 +7 DAMAGE ROLL: 12
THE ENEMY GREYTHING RESISTS!
1d10 DAMAGE REDUCTION ROLL: 3 ENEMY GREYTHING SUSTAINS 9 DAMAGE!
THE ENEMY GREYTHING RETALIATES SOMEHOW!
Another trivial effort, barely tickling. You feel more irritated than injured; surely this thing is capable of delivering a more pain. Get on with it, already.
1d10 DAMAGE REDUCTION ROLL: 3 ENEMY GREYTHING SUSTAINS 9 DAMAGE!
THE ENEMY GREYTHING RETALIATES SOMEHOW!
Another trivial effort, barely tickling. You feel more irritated than injured; surely this thing is capable of delivering a more pain. Get on with it, already.
CONFUSED DOLPHLET ATTEMPTS COMMUNICATION!
The pitiable creature emits a series of vibrations from its mouth. You are reminded of the babble spewed by greythings until you have separated enough of their pieces. You can't imagine where it could have learned such undignified behavior, but you can still glean some possible meaning from the noises. Something about...violence? Of course! Yes, yes! That makes sense! And...wait...is that something about violence being.......nnnn...? Nnnot....not something. Not...ever unwelcome? ...Not...ever messy enough?.............no. No, it seems as if this being is attempting to express that violence is not something "needed" in this situation.
...You're...not really following.
The pitiable creature emits a series of vibrations from its mouth. You are reminded of the babble spewed by greythings until you have separated enough of their pieces. You can't imagine where it could have learned such undignified behavior, but you can still glean some possible meaning from the noises. Something about...violence? Of course! Yes, yes! That makes sense! And...wait...is that something about violence being.......nnnn...? Nnnot....not something. Not...ever unwelcome? ...Not...ever messy enough?.............no. No, it seems as if this being is attempting to express that violence is not something "needed" in this situation.
...You're...not really following.
THE OTHER CONFUSED DOLPHLET ATTACKS!
While your attention is divided, the larger tasty snack manages to bestow upon you the gift of a more substantial wound. You feel a twinge of pride in this one. It will no doubt taste the sweetest of the two.
While your attention is divided, the larger tasty snack manages to bestow upon you the gift of a more substantial wound. You feel a twinge of pride in this one. It will no doubt taste the sweetest of the two.
YOU HAVE SUSTAINED 4 DAMAGE THIS ROUND!
>HAVE A LITTLE SNACKIE
MOTHER DOLPHIN USED SNACKIE!
You would usually build up a little more of an appetite, but the chittering things you've just squeezed from your gelatinous insides are looking even greasier and smelling even more foetid than they usually do. In an orgy of violence, both the best and only kind of orgy you're aware of, you snap up the nearest dolphlet and gulp it down, barely crunching its little bones between your hundreds of teeth. Its brothers and sisters frolic around you, each frantically eager to be next, and one by one by you indulge them, until you have returned all seven to the depths from whence they spurted. You feel wonderful.
YOUR HEALTH HAS BEEN RESTORED!
You would usually build up a little more of an appetite, but the chittering things you've just squeezed from your gelatinous insides are looking even greasier and smelling even more foetid than they usually do. In an orgy of violence, both the best and only kind of orgy you're aware of, you snap up the nearest dolphlet and gulp it down, barely crunching its little bones between your hundreds of teeth. Its brothers and sisters frolic around you, each frantically eager to be next, and one by one by you indulge them, until you have returned all seven to the depths from whence they spurted. You feel wonderful.
YOUR HEALTH HAS BEEN RESTORED!
SOMETHING DECREASES AGAIN...BUT ONLY SLIGHTLY??
BOMBABY COUNTDOWN: 2
THE ENEMY GREYTHING ATTACKS!
You are almost pleased to find that the thing was holding back, though its efforts could certainly be better. With an almost adorable existential pseudopod, it tears a sincere but ultimately disappointing gash in your eighth quadrigreen exomembrane.
You are almost pleased to find that the thing was holding back, though its efforts could certainly be better. With an almost adorable existential pseudopod, it tears a sincere but ultimately disappointing gash in your eighth quadrigreen exomembrane.
THAT ONE ATTACKS!
There is nothing one of your own kind can do to surprise you, let alone impress you. You barely register what the silly thing even attempted.
There is nothing one of your own kind can do to surprise you, let alone impress you. You barely register what the silly thing even attempted.
THE OTHER ONE ATTACKS!
Yawn.
Yawn.
YOU HAVE SUSTAINED
5 DAMAGE THIS ROUND!
>BITE!
MOTHER DOLPHIN USED BITE!
You have been sizing up the potential deliciousness of your more misguided by-products since they first dared to accost you, but you don't want to be too hasty. You'd rather savor these finely aged treats, and you opt to take only a test bite, as gently as you're capable...
You have been sizing up the potential deliciousness of your more misguided by-products since they first dared to accost you, but you don't want to be too hasty. You'd rather savor these finely aged treats, and you opt to take only a test bite, as gently as you're capable...
THIS ONE SUSTAINS DAMAGE!
BOMBABY COUNTDOWN: 1
THAT ONE ATTACKS VIGOROUSLY!
For some reason, your damage to the bigger one has triggered a strong reaction in the smaller one.
It must have been saving the feast for itself.
For some reason, your damage to the bigger one has triggered a strong reaction in the smaller one.
It must have been saving the feast for itself.
THE ENEMY GREYTHING DOES SOMETHING OR OTHER!
You aren't sure what it is doing. It is probably irrelevant.
You aren't sure what it is doing. It is probably irrelevant.
THE OTHER ONE DOES NOTHING
You expected your meal to remember its purpose and rejoice, but it is only curled up pitifully. The undolphinly behavior would almost put you off your appetite, if it were possible for anything to put you off your appetite.
You expected your meal to remember its purpose and rejoice, but it is only curled up pitifully. The undolphinly behavior would almost put you off your appetite, if it were possible for anything to put you off your appetite.
SOMETHING IS SUDDENLY STIRRING
You don't notice, but the narration does. This could be important, but it might be best to not call too much attention to it.
You don't notice, but the narration does. This could be important, but it might be best to not call too much attention to it.
YOU HAVE SUSTAINED
3 DAMAGE THIS ROUND!
>SNACKIE AGAIN!!!
MOTHER DOLPHIN USED SNACKIE!
The mysterious chatter in your mind is urging you to EAT. Therefore, you decide to eat the most edible and appetizing younger dolphin present, as this narration tried to the best of its ability to establish as the only parameters of this command, and regrets that it did not make this clearer, but can only do so much. "You" open wide your slavering muzzle, and take another massive bite out of the same dolphin you've been repeatedly saying is the one you wanted to eat next. Having already eaten so much, you can't fit the entire thing just yet, but you certainly rend a significant chunk from the thing. At last you silence the bothersome throbbing of its life functions. You just know, in the gurgling clot of pus that passes for a dolphin's heart, that this is what it wanted all along.
It truly is a tasty one. Tasty enough that you forgive it for ever escaping. Perhaps you should allow them to do so on purpose. Evidently they will only grow juicier by the time they come back to you.
The mysterious chatter in your mind is urging you to EAT. Therefore, you decide to eat the most edible and appetizing younger dolphin present, as this narration tried to the best of its ability to establish as the only parameters of this command, and regrets that it did not make this clearer, but can only do so much. "You" open wide your slavering muzzle, and take another massive bite out of the same dolphin you've been repeatedly saying is the one you wanted to eat next. Having already eaten so much, you can't fit the entire thing just yet, but you certainly rend a significant chunk from the thing. At last you silence the bothersome throbbing of its life functions. You just know, in the gurgling clot of pus that passes for a dolphin's heart, that this is what it wanted all along.
It truly is a tasty one. Tasty enough that you forgive it for ever escaping. Perhaps you should allow them to do so on purpose. Evidently they will only grow juicier by the time they come back to you.
IT WAS. SO SWEET.
BOMBABY COUNTDOWN: 0
With a gurgle of unbridled ecstacy, the bloated little dolphin swells to near bursting, and then to bursting. A roiling biochemical gumbo and an alien atmosphere meet in a burst of energy that triggers a magnificent blast.
SOMETHING INCREASES A FAIR BIT AGAIN!
THE ENEMY GREYTHING IS SIGNIFICANTLY WOUNDED!
YOUR LAST SURVIVING PROGENY IS GRAVELY INJURED!*
*every dolphin's seven favorite words
YOU HAVE SUSTAINED
SO MUCH DAMAGE THIS ROUND!
THIS THING...IS MISSING?!
Obliterated utterly, no doubt! You will miss the taste, but it is a satisfactory enough outcome, given how desperately the bigger greything wanted it, and remains cognizant enough to appreciate the loss. The anarchy and rot of the surrounding zone is suddenly seasoned with the pain and confusion of the tiny beings that believed they could stop you from doing as you please.
Obliterated utterly, no doubt! You will miss the taste, but it is a satisfactory enough outcome, given how desperately the bigger greything wanted it, and remains cognizant enough to appreciate the loss. The anarchy and rot of the surrounding zone is suddenly seasoned with the pain and confusion of the tiny beings that believed they could stop you from doing as you please.
