Gordon slowly twisted his fingers along the dial on the console, watching the readout and trying to ignore, at least for the moment, the moans and thumps coming from the very un-soundproofed bed-sized capsule nearby, that was serving as their Mojo source for the purpose of the experiment.
It hadn't taken him long to install himself into the order after he arrived at Firebrand Island, both as operative and as part-time R&D. (In fact the choice has kind of made for him, but more on that later.) His knowledge of entropy, heat death, entanglement and human interaction affecting the outcome of a system had so far given the scientists a new perspective from which to view the Gloom and their means to combat it.
...That wasn't what made hire him, however. One look at his picture and certain, err... physical statistics was enough to convince the administrator that he was ideal fresh meat for the team. It had been an interesting couple of weeks since then.
"So that's fifteen hundred joules per hundred quivers of Mojo, thereabouts. That's a helluvan in--" He comments, faltering slightly through a pleasures squeal from the tube. "...Increase in efficiency from last time." He continues. "But we're going to need another couple of trials to iron out any bias, and I get the feeling Dexter and Gertrude in there are done for the night." He jerks a thumb at the steamed-up tube.
The other scientists look at him.
He looks at them.
They look at him.
"...Oh I get it. I take it you guys got a hold of my file... Fine, I'll go." He mumbles, shouldering off his lab coat.
Maybe you're one of his lab mates. Should you volunteer? Or maybe you're just there for the tour, and the guide suddenly decides that you're the lucky member of the group that gets to be in on the experiment...
[5 - Psychological Warfare]
What do you get when you cross a human being and huge, gross, black squid?
...That's not a joke. That's exactly what's going through this man's mind, as he dodges another man-sized tendril as it erupts out of the watery jungle floor. He lays down a blast of shotgun fire at the appendage, and it splinters and quavers horribly. Around them, several other tendrils shudder and thrash, ready to grasp anyone nearby and smash them against an old-growth mangrove until they are effectively unidentifiable as their native species.
"WE NEED TO GET TO THE CORE! THE... GUY! THERE!" He shouts through the screeching birds and churning water, pointing. Far in the steaming distance, the tendrils form a four-way knot of sorts, strung out over the trees. The living, twisting coursing shapes look a little too much like a human being would... if they were drawn and quartered between the mangroves by their own skin.
"That's the target!" He presses. He pays for his lapse in attention, as a tendril twice his mass wraps around him and mashes him into one of the trees. It seems like that weird orange armor of his is doing its job, because he seems more angry than anything. "GODDAMMIT, LET ME GO! DO I LOOK LIKE A JAPANESE SCHOOLGIRL? NO! I DON'T LOOK LIKE A JAPANESE SCHOOLGIRL!" He yells, leveling the base with a spray of buckshot. It's probably a combination of that, and the mental image he just imparted, that causes it to recoil. Mostly the shotgun fire, of course, but we know how the Gloom hates that sort of thing...
So how are you faring against the Death Squid? Want to help him out? Do you need some help yourself? Do you deal the final blow, or hold the tendrils at bay while he stops his tirade and takes aim?
Gordon Freeman | Half-Life series | M/F preferred
Gordon slowly twisted his fingers along the dial on the console, watching the readout and trying to ignore, at least for the moment, the moans and thumps coming from the very un-soundproofed bed-sized capsule nearby, that was serving as their Mojo source for the purpose of the experiment.
It hadn't taken him long to install himself into the order after he arrived at Firebrand Island, both as operative and as part-time R&D. (In fact the choice has kind of made for him, but more on that later.) His knowledge of entropy, heat death, entanglement and human interaction affecting the outcome of a system had so far given the scientists a new perspective from which to view the Gloom and their means to combat it.
...That wasn't what made hire him, however. One look at his picture and certain, err... physical statistics was enough to convince the administrator that he was ideal fresh meat for the team. It had been an interesting couple of weeks since then.
"So that's fifteen hundred joules per hundred quivers of Mojo, thereabouts. That's a helluvan in--" He comments, faltering slightly through a pleasures squeal from the tube. "...Increase in efficiency from last time." He continues. "But we're going to need another couple of trials to iron out any bias, and I get the feeling Dexter and Gertrude in there are done for the night." He jerks a thumb at the steamed-up tube.
The other scientists look at him.
He looks at them.
They look at him.
"...Oh I get it. I take it you guys got a hold of my file... Fine, I'll go." He mumbles, shouldering off his lab coat.
Maybe you're one of his lab mates. Should you volunteer? Or maybe you're just there for the tour, and the guide suddenly decides that you're the lucky member of the group that gets to be in on the experiment...
[5 - Psychological Warfare]
What do you get when you cross a human being and huge, gross, black squid?
...That's not a joke. That's exactly what's going through this man's mind, as he dodges another man-sized tendril as it erupts out of the watery jungle floor. He lays down a blast of shotgun fire at the appendage, and it splinters and quavers horribly. Around them, several other tendrils shudder and thrash, ready to grasp anyone nearby and smash them against an old-growth mangrove until they are effectively unidentifiable as their native species.
"WE NEED TO GET TO THE CORE! THE... GUY! THERE!" He shouts through the screeching birds and churning water, pointing. Far in the steaming distance, the tendrils form a four-way knot of sorts, strung out over the trees. The living, twisting coursing shapes look a little too much like a human being would... if they were drawn and quartered between the mangroves by their own skin.
"That's the target!" He presses. He pays for his lapse in attention, as a tendril twice his mass wraps around him and mashes him into one of the trees. It seems like that weird orange armor of his is doing its job, because he seems more angry than anything. "GODDAMMIT, LET ME GO! DO I LOOK LIKE A JAPANESE SCHOOLGIRL? NO! I DON'T LOOK LIKE A JAPANESE SCHOOLGIRL!" He yells, leveling the base with a spray of buckshot. It's probably a combination of that, and the mental image he just imparted, that causes it to recoil. Mostly the shotgun fire, of course, but we know how the Gloom hates that sort of thing...
So how are you faring against the Death Squid? Want to help him out? Do you need some help yourself? Do you deal the final blow, or hold the tendrils at bay while he stops his tirade and takes aim?