FYOP/Scenario Chamber/0005: Difference between revisions
No edit summary |
No edit summary |
||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
The robot makes a sudden lunge at you, and you step aside as she clangs into the rubble with a distorted squawk. | The robot makes a sudden lunge at you, and you step aside as she clangs into the rubble with a distorted squawk. | ||
“I’m not a threat!” you insist as she flops on to her back – | “I’m not a threat!” you insist as she flops on to her back – the metal iris on her face stutters, sparks erupting from within. She lurches upright to the sound of whining servos and crouches low. The pink metallic plating on her bust is now cracked, the swell of her chest now jostling as though it were made of a far softer material | ||
“Intruderrr claims wrongful classificationnnnn,” her increasingly distorted voice echoes from her speaker, now tinged with static. Faster than you thought her capable of, she makes another lunge, this time managing to catch your jacket before you can move aside. She holds you in front of her, her remaining “eye” flaring red as her speaker hisses, “Please state appropriate classificationnnnnn or you shallll be regarded as ‘intruderrrr’.” | “Intruderrr claims wrongful classificationnnnn,” her increasingly distorted voice echoes from her speaker, now tinged with static. Faster than you thought her capable of, she makes another lunge, this time managing to catch your jacket before you can move aside. She holds you in front of her, her remaining “eye” flaring red as her speaker hisses, “Please state appropriate classificationnnnnn or you shallll be regarded as ‘intruderrrr’.” | ||
Line 7: | Line 7: | ||
---- | ---- | ||
[[FYOP/Scenario Chamber/0013 | Claim you are her master]] | |||
[[FYOP/Scenario Chamber/0012 | Poke at her chest]] |
Latest revision as of 19:04, 9 February 2018
The robot makes a sudden lunge at you, and you step aside as she clangs into the rubble with a distorted squawk.
“I’m not a threat!” you insist as she flops on to her back – the metal iris on her face stutters, sparks erupting from within. She lurches upright to the sound of whining servos and crouches low. The pink metallic plating on her bust is now cracked, the swell of her chest now jostling as though it were made of a far softer material
“Intruderrr claims wrongful classificationnnnn,” her increasingly distorted voice echoes from her speaker, now tinged with static. Faster than you thought her capable of, she makes another lunge, this time managing to catch your jacket before you can move aside. She holds you in front of her, her remaining “eye” flaring red as her speaker hisses, “Please state appropriate classificationnnnnn or you shallll be regarded as ‘intruderrrr’.”