Your attempts to wiggle out actually end up tightening the fashionable noose around your neck. If your arms weren't paralyzed, you would be able to just untie the damn thing, but alas that spider bite has seemingly done you in.
You wish that damn spider had never existed!
You begin letting off a storm of insults at the ELEVATOR, attempting to intimidate it into submission. You threaten to replace it, you threaten to break it, you threaten to halt its pay. But nothing works!
Unbeknownst to you, the ELEVATOR is now being controlled by something more powerful than fear: the POWER OF LOVE. Damn that ROBOT was good at wooing.
You accept your fate, and just give up. This was your goal anyway. Better hung in the chute than dead by spider venom.
Cinnamon Flim has died.
>Next.
...or has she? You are still somehow a young girl named FLIM, only... now you inhabit the body of a giant space monster. How did this happen? How did you get here? Weren't you just hanging to death...?
You take stock of the current situation and realize the other GALACTIC OCTOPUS THINGS are talking about you. Apparently you just shit all over the ground! They are starting to give you mean nicknames.
You don't have the mental energy to spend being embarrassed right now! You're too busy wondering why you aren't a dead girl anymore. From what you've been told so far apparently you're now something called a TRITOPUS, and you guys are in the middle of launching a daring assault on the EMPRESS' ASCENDANT FRIGATE in revenge for the life of a slaughtered noble named G'KGLAHTULON and to rescue a youngling named URGNSHLAKZUI. When you tell the other TRITOPI you are not the person who shit all over the deck they sarcastically say "Yeah, OKAY."
With this newfound power... you can kill the EMPRESS, and avenge your brother.
You have made it to the SALVAGE OPS door with your crew. The SECURITY GO KART is passing by as you arrive. You could just wait for it to pass, seeing as it won't bug you if you stay down here... but you're filled with rage. You begin moving faster, running so you can intercept the SECURITY GUARD.
>Next.
You toss the SPEAR onto the tracks, and the GO KART is thrown off the rails.
>Next.
The SECURITY GUARD is eaten whole by the SWAMP MONSTER from before. Your LEGION is a little freaked out by your efficient ruthlessness, but you reassure them that such a fate will only befall those who aren't loyal to the cause.
This does nothing to assuage their worries, which you continue to ignore as you prepare to enter the SALVAGE OPS room.
>Next.
You enter the SALVAGE OPS room. The two WORKBOTS in here don't look too happy to see a feral child and homeless people imposing on their business.
NANI!?
...Oh yeah those guys. You really want to know why they locked you in here. Was their intention to make you suffer for their entertainment?
You want to know the truth so desperately you're apparently willing to risk personal injury in the process. Luckily you can't feel pain as a ROBOT.
You don't manage to actually impact the 'GLASS' at all, but the vibrations manage to knock that KEY down. That... definitely wasn't the solution they intended for you to find, but whatever it's progress.
You begin communicating in interpretive dance, hoping they'll understand you want your ARMS fixed. No response.
Your LEGS have learned about the POWER OF DANCE!
23toedbasket wrote: ↑Sat Jul 04, 2020 6:42 pm>Head: Tritopus feces is famous for causing autonomous consciousness bugs in basic hardware like yourself.
That's true! The poop gets inside you and destroys or alters every part of your ROBO-PSYCHOLOGY, turning it into ACTUAL PSYCHOLOGY. You now have SHIT FOR BRAINS, and are an individual with individual thoughts and feelings.
Your first act as an autonomous, conscious being is to name yourself. You choose the name CLEBE.
What do you do next, Clebe?