Imagine's page

And it's not like I'm not concerned about our lack of healing--I really am--but I just can't deal with this magic system anymore. (I'm 7th level, I just got 3rd lvl spells, and I don't do anything else well. If I was playing a WarPriest, at least I'd understand.)

If you're okay with a char-swap like dat, then I'm okay with a char-swap like dat. =)

Pssst. Maxim. You're up. ;-)

...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand I'm back.

Yeah, sorry, new job. And I've seen that new job's are 89% lethal to posting rates. XD

Also! I don't know or care how much more we have here, but I'm determined to swap out Imagine for my Armor Storm soldier.

I don't care that he'll be redundant with Boreal for rolls, but I just can't stand the Starfinder magic system. It's too weak and with too few spells. The Nerf is strong with this one.

Also, I just don't have time or power to keep Imagine's spiciness up, but some low-power brute all but writes himself!

Imagine makes a great snorting sound that can only come from an unexpected laugh. "Ha! Asscorp! Or what about The Butt Company? Or maybe Twerk and Tinkle, LLC? Oh! Oh! I got it! I can be PussyGalore and you can be Master Bates and we're here to deliver a big package!"

Imagine just starts snickering, forgetting why they are there.

"HaHA! Yeah! Eat our space dust, tail-munchers! Ya like to munch space tail, you tail munchers? Ya, you know how to munch that tail. Munch it. Munch it good!

Oooo! I wonder if I can shoot more guns at that thing!" Imagine wonders as she starts shooting at the following torpedo.

Shooting!: 1d20 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 3 = 29

Book says the DC to hit a tracking weapon is 10 + its speed.

Meh. If you got a Wyld Chyld talking in your ear, ya gotta let their story out.

(Huh. I seemed to have posted with the wrong alias. That's...so weird.)

Can we just bot EH-RK's action? Let's just try running this one round and then we can always turn if we're not faster.

Buncha stuff.

1) I'd be in favor of us getting a Coilgun in the turret. That would give us a Long range weapon in our best slot. (Also, it's the same PCU and actually cheaper in BP for about the same damage.)

2) We don't have any long range weapons now, and right now we're at 12 hexes range. Reminder: Short is 5, Medium 10, long 20.

3) We're not that fast, but we may still be able to outrun them.

4) If we try to outrun them and they have any missile launchers we're fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Oh hey look a space map!

Looks like we wanna do a Flip and Burn, yeah?

EH-RK needs another piloting roll?

Yeah, don't forget Boreal's new sunrise maiden

"Man, I thought I really had something there. Ah well this looks like one of those problems that can be solved with guns," Imagine states as she slides into the particle turret and lights up the sky.

Shooting with turret!: 1d20 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 3 = 29
Damage!: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 4, 4) = 11

'Oh, we're doing lying now? Okay, I can do that,' Imagine thinks at the crew, stepping up to the viewscreen before anyone can stop her.

"You Azlanti are ALWAYS threatening when you should be on your KNEES and THANKING us for saving YOUR hides. AGAIN!

Now get the FRAG OUT OF OUR WAY unless you consider having the entire universe sucked into a giant sanity-blasting world-eating No-srsly Great Old One your idea of a HOT NIGHT!"

Bluff or Intimidate. Pick one.: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30

'The Starfinders use navy ranks, right?' she telepathically asks, a bit too late.

Imagine spends the week in space trying to sober up, and taking her hand at the pilot's conn. Though she is slow to start, something inside of her is woken at the task, and soon she is executing complicated maneuvers within tolerable levels of danger.

Does someone wanna respond to this or should I look for big red buttons to push?' Imagine thinks at the crew.

I'm pretty sure that's the plan that I had called for, but Maxim seemed hell-bent on asking the Starfinder to be sure?

Anyone else wanna weigh in? I don't think Maxim will mind getting Rule-of-Two'd into this.

Why do I feel like we just don't know what to do next?

(Also, Maxim is travelling this week, so his posting will be slower.)

"Max, you get it, riiiiii....ooooooo," Imagine states, the part of her brain that ALWAYS thinks about money assigning a big fat ZERO in over MAXim in her internal hub.

"Money," Imagine says, tossing five at the cabbie and scrapping up the two of them out of the cab.

"Iron Maiden? Excellent!" Imagine yells as she begins to air-guitar.

Then she tries to sit next to Maxim, but only succeeds in pushing him off the narrow-and-pointy cleanbot(tm).

"Ugh, the bartender called us a dwarf-cab. Let's go normal a one for find people," she states, dragging Maxim in the general direction of the exit.

For even a veteran debaucher such as Imagine, the epic-level revelry that Maxim is determined to drown himself in takes her aback. 'Did someone die? Or is it his birthday? Frag, Idunno.'

Still, not one to ever turn down a drinks, or free things, or free drinks, she settles into the rhythm of the night and begins judging the various renditions of various songs but using a point system that only she understands. "Three shadow-marks to you! Seven octogenarians to the man who dances without pants!"

When at last both both booze and creds have been drank away, Imagine stares blearily across the table at the odd Maxim. "You know, success can test one's mettle as surely as the strongest adversary," she states as thought that explains many things.

"On the other hand, I seem to recall he kept talking about a place called 'Nejeor' and how it was the 'gate to the twelve'...or something like that. Maybe we should go there?"

I'm seeing three main points that, if we could find a way to get over them, would make this fairly do-able.

1) Get us to them quickly. Just floating in space, or using a personal jetpack might not be able to cover the large spaces that usually separate two ships.

2) Get us not killed enroute.

3) Find some way to cut through the hull.

My initial ideas are focusing around the Shuttle--the Small ship, that would fit inside a Shuttle Bay. One could see Boreal and Imagine flying that thing over, one piloting, the other shooting, until it could bite onto an enemy ship's hull.

But you're good at, like, everything. So you should do something that matters.

"Ha! Is a Solarion Froghemoth's butt water tight?"

That no one has ever performed an experiment to actually answer that question bothers Imagine not at all.

Fun fact: Your Gunnery check can go off your BAB -or- your ranks in Piloting. Hence, I'm now slightly better at shooting guns than Boreal. ^_^

Fun Fact #2!: Also, that might make me the best pilot, making me the (mostly useless) pilot. -.-

Maxim runs in to Imagine who's sporting a flashy new black-and-purple space suit. (char pic) She looks rested and ready to make trouble.

"Hoi chummer. Got yur wave. Don't know if I'll be much help in that area," she says with an impish wink. "_Not_ offending people ain't exactly my area of exper-tease."

Also! Shopping!

Estex suit III: 7 5,500 E: +7 K: +8 Dx: +5 –1 Mods: 4

With!
Force field, purple ,
Deflective reinforcement
Thermal capacitor, mk 1
Also!
Dermal plating, mk 1

(From the text of Dermal plating, it appears that a lower DR sort of stacks with a greater DR by adding one to it.)

Okay, the ship looks good.

Now, I'm not gonna die on this hill, but do we really need Luxurious quarters and escape pods?

(My feeling on escape pods is that if the ship is gonna blow up, it's all but a TPK anyway, and I'd rather have those points in use. ALSO! Of note 1 BP only gets us 1 escape pod, that can only be used by one person. Since an investment in enough escape pods (or life boats) for all of us is waaaay too much to spend, we could instead use those points to upgrade the defensive countermeasures, or get a bigger gun.)

MUHAHAHAHAHA! Victory is mine! ]=-}

I don't really have a good picture of the world we're living in, apparently, that interacting with "the neighborhood" is a thing.

I was imagining more Falling Skies style ongoing brutal war against the Visori.

It's Shadowrun. We are Shadowrunners.

The V'Sori is the one MegaCorp and we are small fish trying to keep out of the spot light and do what little "good" we can, but we would all be mercilessly killed the instant the VSori decide we are becoming too much trouble.

Also, all the gangs are stronger than all of us. We would lose in a direct confrontation because they are fed technology by the VSori.

I once didn't understand that and tried to go big. It, um, didn't go well.

(Huh. I seemed to have posted with the wrong alias. That's...so weird.
It's almost as if this was one of my first characters and a NE game was my first game and it ended because we thought we were more powerful than we actually are. Huh.)

Good news: I've caught up reading about our reward!!1!. Bad news: Now I have to go spend it....

I wonder how that credstick stuff works. Is that like a digital wallet, where you take out the right amount? It's like handing over your wallet and let the shopkeep take it out?!?

By my Shadowrun-biased understanding, you hold up your credstick (which I've always assumed looked like a small flashlight) and authorize the amount and direction of the transaction, and the other person does the same.

Whether the credsticks then touch or not I've never understood, but I think they do, like fancy phones exchanging numbers nowadays.

Oh also, my master plan has finally come to fruition and I've found time enough to level to 7.
Except for not spending my skill points, and if someone tells me to I'm lighting my computer on fire and making 'smores.(srsly, I hate <blank>Finder for skill points. I just don't have the time to deal it out with an eyedropper to a billion skills, updating totals and keeping track of how many I spent. 5E rules for what they did.)

Mysticism!: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

"The computer is obviously haunted!" Imagine says unhelpfully.

W000t! Level 7!!!

"Sure he can...in about eight hours," Imagine says, going to sleep wherever the hell she is right now.

"Yeah, not such a big fluffer when you're on your fluffing back, huh?"
"I do not give a fluffing fluff! Imma kick your fluffing pooper until monks on other planets that have lived their entire life on mountains and have never heard of this fluffing planet or even of the concept of poopers getting kicked suddenly rise up as one and go 'wow, my pooper suddenly hurts from someone else's pooper getting kicked so hard that now I am feeling the sensation and I do not find the sensation to be very enjoyable!"

And so it goes on and on for about a minute as the fey-size creatures continue an adorable tirade of swearing and corpse-smashing before they too disappear to whatever pink-and-dollie infested seedy bar that they call home.

"No no NO, give that to -me-," Imagine insists as she rips the carona laser pistol from the grip of whatever unfortunate thought to hold it.

"Imma figure this out...eventually. ALSO! Where are we sleeping right now? As in, we're sleeping right now. Imma be generous and let you all chose where.

You have 60 seconds to comply."

weapon is lvl 6 because reasons. Reasons I don't understand and do not agree with. Also, I would like the freebooter armor, if no one is taking it.

"The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on. Of course by 'moving' I mean 'kicking' and by 'on' I mean 'your pooper'," the small voice says as it suddenly appears opposite Maxim and kicks Vesh's Achilles tendons violently.

Attack!: 1d20 + 2 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 5 + 1 = 20
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 3 + 1 = 6

Having no confidence in anyone to win without her, Imagine starts casting again, realizing that she does not, in fact, have plenty more where that came from.

"I got PLENTY MOAR where that came from SLITCH!" Imagine screams inside the car, only faintly heard by anyone but her.

"Just gimme a could seconds...." she mumbles, starting another summon.

Imagine finishes her casting and another small, hard, angry man appears behind Vesh and begins kicking the back of her calves.

"I shall kick your pooper on the beaches, I shall kick your pooper on the landing grounds, I shall kick your pooper in the fields and in the streets, I shall kick your pooper in the hills; I shall never, never, never stop kick you in the pooper."

Attack!: 1d20 + 2 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 2 + 5 + 1 = 20
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 = 10

Now Imagine is tired and wants to take it easy.

"One does not simply stop kicking your pooper. Not with ten thousand men would I stop kicking your pooper."

Attack!: 1d20 + 2 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 2 + 5 + 1 = 12
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 3 + 1 = 5

Imagine feels her work here is done and goes back to sit in the car.

Then she feels lonely and starts summoning more.

After this fight we are sleeping somewhere nice. We're gonna pay a lot and have guards an' stuff.

The tiny Stoneman burns in the heat of a thousand suns. "Noooooooo...you...fluffer...."

I already went. See above, and just apply the tiny Elemental's attack to someone else, if needed.

You get +2 for Flanking with a short man.

Suddenly a tiny angry rock-hard man appears behind the one attacking Maxim and starts kicking his calves.
"Yeah, I'm behind you pounding you real hard! You like that you fluffing fluffer?"

Attack!: 1d20 + 2 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 2 + 5 + 1 = 15
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 1 = 8

Imagine languorously exits the vehicle and walks over to Maxim. Laying a hand on his shoulder she whispers in his ear, "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you finally flanking someone?"

Cure Wounds!: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

'They are right to fear me, the Galaxy's Most Dangerous Weapon,' Imagine thinks, unscathed by the fire.

That they're not targeting her because she isn't at all a threat right now doesn't bother her head at all.

Imagine decides sitting is easier than standing, so she stays where she is as she starts to do what she does best--get other people to do the work for her.

Starting Summon I

@Maxim

I'm not 100% sure about the starfinder action economy. But getting out of a vehicle, moving over 50feet to the closest bone trooper and doing an attack seems to be a bit over the edge.

Imma concur with Maxim on this one. It seems like seeing a massive pile of bones in the middle of the road might be something that we should've 1) seen a while back and 2) stopped as soon as we saw it. Which would at least have given us more room to maneuver. Same thing with seeing cars trying to box us in. If they get free actions (how do they get a surprise round? Aren't we supposed to at least get a Perception check to see that OMG THOSE CARS ARE GONNA BOX US IN!!1!) then it seems fair to say that 'open car door' could be called a free action.

And another thing, WTH are they getting Magic Missiles from? That spell doesn't even exist, near as I can tell. =?

As there are steep slopes to the left and right of the road - even though only three foot on ane and eight foot on the other,

Isn't there clearance to try to go around it? Or just clip a side of it to not need to go through its direct center?

Imagine wakes up from her light daze. "Huh? Is someone trying to kill us again? I knew we should've spent the night in that nightmare hut. Hey, the next time I say it's okay to sleep in a nightmare hut, we're doin' it!"

"Sure whatever we're sleeping now right? We can do all of...that stuff, after," Imagine says, failing to suppress a yawn.

"Hey guys, anyone mind if I catch a quick nap? I'm kinda drained from summoning all the murder fairies.

A short 8 or 9 hours would set me right."

The minute men of ROCK stay true to their word and keep up a sustained beating of the remains of the former undead, performing acts best left un-remembered or dweled on too long.
After a fashion, either from a weakening of the magic keeping them here, or from them feeling utterly pleased in their despoilment, they return to the realm from which they came.

Imagine's smirk of pride will not be reduced for sometime. She doesn't need to say anything, confident that she has, again, saved the party and the planet.

"And _I'm_ telling you Imma fluff your corpse!"
"You like me? You lookin' at me? You wanna fluff me you fluffer?
I WANNA FLUFF WHEN I FLUFF!"

And so it goes as the diminutive stonemen keep up an unrelenting torment against the toes and feet of the undead horror, sounding more like chipmunk sailors all the time.

Attack!: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 5 + 1 = 21
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 1 = 7

Attack!: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 5 + 1 = 22
Damage!: 1d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 3 + 1 = 8

Attack!: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 5 + 1 = 26
CRIT Damage!: 2d6 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6, 2) + 3 + 1 = 12

Imagine, for her part, is pleased with her creations' work, and feels no need to perform any more labor.

Also I don't know the rules for firing into melee, and don't feel that my 1d6 is worth looking it up. I need bigger guns.