Geoko stares bewildered at the short, scronny little man, and debates his original plan of lobbing the useless man down the stairs to see if there's a bottom, but since NoLonger and AmoebaBoy have managed to see to that with themselves, he figures he'll let their self sacrifice be for a cuase. He puts a hand to his head.
*hiccup* "Gah... I think I've had a bit much," *hiccup* "too drunk." Having finished a complete sentence (in his mind, anyhow) he nods proudly, but the nod turns into more of a weave with his whole body and he steps forward a bit to regain his balance.
Carlyle, relieved that the look of I'm-about-to-throw-you-down-those-stairs-nerd! , which he has seen so many times in so many faces, has left the drunk mage's eyes. "hrmmm... well let's see. You're hiccups have an interval of 8.34 seconds, and you had to step 1.25 feet to recover your balance... hmmm... divide by your weight... yes, I'd say you've had a bit much there, old chum. I'm putting you around a point 0-7-8."
Geoko thinks for a moment... Then has a very sobering though. "wait... That's not even legally drunk. I can still drive." He waves his hand frustratedly at the little punk, and decides to go about his business regardless.
Feeling a bit down, he mutters, "Bah, what are the odds of finding anything worth while down there anyways."
"Hmm... roughly 1.653 million to one." Carlyle quickly realizes his mistake when the I'm-about-to-throw-you-down-those-stairs-nerd! look returns to Geoko's eyes. He decides to take a chance.
"Erm... 1.653 million to one... for you finding something worth while? Yea... that's it... the odds of not finding something worth while are almost nill. Heh heh... heh..." He puts on a weakly feigned smile.
With this new encouraging information, Geoko notices the others are already heading in, and he quickly follows suit, Carlyle staying just behind him. They are plunging happily along in the dark when there is a loud rumbling. Geoko turns and looks at Carlyle, hoping the noise was his stomach. Carlyle just stares blankly back at him. He swallows nervously and takes a deep breath, all the while wishing he'd just checked his pockets like the others instead of summoning this nuisance of a man. Though this does seem like an appropriate time to take a bravery inducing drink, he decides against it since he might have to drive later. He chooses instead to <F>eel around in the dark for anything useful, in the hopes that maybe he can find something blunt and large enough to use as a weapon, on either whatever made that noise or to just hit Carlyle. Who knows, maybe, being a bit drunk and in the dark, he'll end up accidentally <F>eeling the inside of his pockets and finding out what the hell was in there.
((Uh... "(or do other guard things)" refers to Mish being allowed to choose from the set of actions offered to generic Guards:
She doesn't get to choose from the actions of fellow guards being offered unique actions. Quit causing trouble and take your turn!))
//you failed to specify. she can jump off the plank if she wants to.
Curious as to why some of my fellow sailors would carry me off with them into some deep dark hole, I humbly give them my farewell and choose to <R>esurface. Once upon the sandy surface of the island, I look around the horizon for any ships or things of interest.
Mish gets a small feeling of excitement and accomplishment upon discovering the rope conveniently tied to the deck, despite falling on her ass just moments before. As she wonders how she should go about retreiving anything cool that's tied to the rope, testing her ability to fly suddenly comes to mind... she becomes a little confused, since nothing she has done would lead her to this type of experimenting... wondering why she would ever try this, she suddenly gets the impression that trying to fly would be strictly forbidden, and is somewhat alarmed by her change in thoughts. Perhaps she had a drink without remembering she did? Oh well, in any case, she decides the random urge is unrelated, and wonders what she should REALLY do.
Determining if it would be best to pull up the rope and risk just hiding the really cool thing she'd pull up, she hears a YAARR from off in the distance, from somewhere in the ocean near the ship. Putting aside any thoughts concerning the rope/really cool thing, she starts to get up to look over the side of the ship to se where the noise was coming from. Except that as soon as she puts weight on her right leg, she falls over and gets a small bruise on her elbow. Looking at her leg, she is quite alarmed to see that her pants are covered in blood; she feels a sharp pain of this newly discovered wound, and tries to figure out what she should do before she bleeds to death. Or gets a nasty scar.
Mish <C>alls out for help, and then starts to crawl in search of some booze <B>elow deck to numb some of the pain.
I stand there for a bit cursing my luck and trying to decide whether or not I should just leave all these drunks to whatever fate they they deal themselves and go take that nap or see about doing something more useful. Quickly, I settle on the nap prospect and begin to look for someplace on the ship to lay down, but before I get too far I think I heard something say "Arrr" in the distance followed shortly by what might have been a call for help. That had BETTER not be Scott swimming out to sea in pursuit of imaginary pirate ships again I tell myself with a sigh even though I already have a feeling I know the answer to that one. Figuring I better check in on whatever is going on over there I head over to where I think I heard Mish and grab some booze I find nearby. The way this is going I could probably use a <Dr>ink.
At first I think I might try to do all three tests at the same time, taunting Gregor just before leaping off the ship and stabbing myself in mid-air, but I think again. In my current slightly intoxicated state I might not be able to fully comprehend my new powers. I decide to go down below, curl up in my hammock (or whatever we crazy pirates use for sleepytime) and go to sleep, hoping for the odd chance that perhaps my new powers have something to do with dream manipulation...
Feeling confident, as I am fortified by the mystical powers of the Triforce, I stroll leisurely down the steps and into the dark cavern. I <L>ook around the cave for anything relatively interesting, and think about how jealous god is going to be of my shiny new Triforce.
As I gracefully tumble down the stairs I <f>eel my face smash against one of the many steps and my nose instantly break, spraying a trail of blood behind me.
((I was kinda hoping someone would post to keep this alive, but I didn't want to do it myself. I barely post in the forums at all, so I wouldn't be the person to tell someone else to post more.))
((well, with mario lagging, looks like i'll have to just drink rum in reality until the next turn. when i crash my car and lose my job and end up in an irish rehab facility, we'll all know who to blame, won't we, mario? ...))
|[I delcare victory only because of my overall drunkenness. This should give me a special star by name with something that says "Drunkest Player Award"]|
Comments
*hiccup* "Gah... I think I've had a bit much," *hiccup* "too drunk." Having finished a complete sentence (in his mind, anyhow) he nods proudly, but the nod turns into more of a weave with his whole body and he steps forward a bit to regain his balance.
Carlyle, relieved that the look of I'm-about-to-throw-you-down-those-stairs-nerd! , which he has seen so many times in so many faces, has left the drunk mage's eyes. "hrmmm... well let's see. You're hiccups have an interval of 8.34 seconds, and you had to step 1.25 feet to recover your balance... hmmm... divide by your weight... yes, I'd say you've had a bit much there, old chum. I'm putting you around a point 0-7-8."
Geoko thinks for a moment... Then has a very sobering though. "wait... That's not even legally drunk. I can still drive." He waves his hand frustratedly at the little punk, and decides to go about his business regardless.
Feeling a bit down, he mutters, "Bah, what are the odds of finding anything worth while down there anyways."
"Hmm... roughly 1.653 million to one." Carlyle quickly realizes his mistake when the I'm-about-to-throw-you-down-those-stairs-nerd! look returns to Geoko's eyes. He decides to take a chance.
"Erm... 1.653 million to one... for you finding something worth while? Yea... that's it... the odds of not finding something worth while are almost nill. Heh heh... heh..." He puts on a weakly feigned smile.
With this new encouraging information, Geoko notices the others are already heading in, and he quickly follows suit, Carlyle staying just behind him. They are plunging happily along in the dark when there is a loud rumbling. Geoko turns and looks at Carlyle, hoping the noise was his stomach. Carlyle just stares blankly back at him. He swallows nervously and takes a deep breath, all the while wishing he'd just checked his pockets like the others instead of summoning this nuisance of a man. Though this does seem like an appropriate time to take a bravery inducing drink, he decides against it since he might have to drive later. He chooses instead to <F>eel around in the dark for anything useful, in the hopes that maybe he can find something blunt and large enough to use as a weapon, on either whatever made that noise or to just hit Carlyle. Who knows, maybe, being a bit drunk and in the dark, he'll end up accidentally <F>eeling the inside of his pockets and finding out what the hell was in there.
//you failed to specify. she can jump off the plank if she wants to.
Also, you totally figured out why I had you summon Carlyle. Glad to see he didn't meet his untimely demise down the stairs.))
Determining if it would be best to pull up the rope and risk just hiding the really cool thing she'd pull up, she hears a YAARR from off in the distance, from somewhere in the ocean near the ship. Putting aside any thoughts concerning the rope/really cool thing, she starts to get up to look over the side of the ship to se where the noise was coming from. Except that as soon as she puts weight on her right leg, she falls over and gets a small bruise on her elbow. Looking at her leg, she is quite alarmed to see that her pants are covered in blood; she feels a sharp pain of this newly discovered wound, and tries to figure out what she should do before she bleeds to death. Or gets a nasty scar.
Mish <C>alls out for help, and then starts to crawl in search of some booze <B>elow deck to numb some of the pain.
Hmmmmm, let's try <e>ating instead.
shameless
))
((hahahahaha! Busted! Ratted out by your own people! Finally, after all this time, paying Stef thousands of dollars as a spy is paying off!))
((Too late. (TMFI?)))
((Also, Obligatory Monty Python retort: It's not pinin'! It's passed on!))
((EDIT: Alright i admit it, I was just bumping the thread))
((I'm WAAAITING!))