As it stands right now in terms of player posting frequency, I'm afriad that I will need one - perhaps two - replacement players. 

If you are iterested in a campy, zany game where you get multiple clones/lives, and where everyone is out to get you (and you die often)... let me know!

Now, we have a break in the action.  Time to figure out what everyone wants to do.  I will pause here, give everyone a full chance to post.

It takes approximately ten minutes for the next incarnation of Artie-R-FCL to arrive on scene, by which point the sweeperbot is essentially done with the task of cleaning the mess caused by the gruesome death of his predecessor. Naturally, traffic on the treet is now hopelessly snarled, but most of the citizens impacted appear to be infareds who have sense enough to keep their opinions to themselves.

Once the new clone arrives, the hoverbot responds. "BING!" it intones in that warm, friendly female voice. "Standard event six is resolved with the replacement of the dead clone. Transport may now resume."

Upon Steam's command, the fans whir back to life, causing a fine mist of blood (and a few assorted chunks of gore) to be tossed in and around the crew compartment as the hoverbot floats back into position.

Steam immediately discovers that the hoverbot's controls are no longer as responsive as they once were - presumably, this is a side effect of the crash. The bottom line is that the vehicle is now even more difficult to control.

Fortunately, The rest of the trip to the PLC goes without incident. Yes, the parking itself is an ordeal (it is possible that a motorbike might have been destroyed while maneuvering the hoverbot into a parking location, but who is really counting?), but soon enough, the fans stop spinning and the hoverbot lurches to a rest.

"BING!" the hoverbot chimes. "Production, Logistics and Commissary - we have arrived at our destination. Please watch your step when deboarding, and have a nice day!"

******************************

You step inside the PLC to find yourselves at the end of a very long line - at least forty clones of various colors stand in your way, awaiting their own turns. The vast majority of the clones in line are infareds and reds, though you do spot three oranges and one yellow.

To your right is a long table with at least fifty types of forms arranged in various stacks, and each of them bear reference numbers and notations more bizarre than the last. Fifteen to twenty plastic pens are chained to this table, though it would appear that none of them actually work.

Several ceiling mounted monitor-lasers keep a careful eye on the clones inside the PLC. From time to time, one will train on a clone, cuaing everyone around that individually to subtly shrink away from the person in question.

The line moves excruciatingly slow, taking at least ten complete minute-cycles for each clone in line before the line shifts forward.

Okay, I have posted the Captain's response to the meeting.  If you have something to add, feel free to do so.  If not, I laid out the tempate to allow the meeting to end; I rather doubt that we all want to spend the next two weeks roleplaying sitting around at a meeting. 

Regarding the computer issues - it's entirely up to you guys if these are related or notn abd how difficult it may be to handle them.  Since this most directly impacts Nyle's world, Giddy should probably take the lead on this situation; if any other players would like to take part, please coordinate with him.  Heh, I can see the fun of having the computer spout random facts here and there for a while, but that's up to you guys.

I plan to move the game date on to Saturday pretty shortly.  Feel free to extend your post on into the evening of Friday, the 19th (current date) as late as you wish, but don't go to Saturday quite yet.  I don't really have any plot items, per se, left for today; I just want to give people a chance to wrap up their sidelines and such for today before we press on - but I *DO* want to press on before long. 

Stardate 2365.02.19
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1615

The Captain sat at the head of the table, his head spinning a bit.  He had expected a small amount of chaos - and the tweaking from Tochi about training a new Captain was both expected and amusing - but he was not prepared for the information being presented.  A security breach?  After everything the Peregrine and her crew had been through over the past couple of weeks, there was a traitor in their midst?

Silas felt his face flush with the anger boiling inside, and he found himself gripping the edge of the table as a way to focus.  He spoke in clipped tones.  "It sounds like you have your first major project, then, Lieutenant Nyle - I want complete diagnostics performed on all of Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' computer gear.  Set up a monitor.  Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, once the monitor routine is confirmed, I want you to start keying your research again." He then turned back to Nyle.  "When the data is invariably wiped, you can hopefully trace what process did so, and where this process initiated - if not by whom."

The Captain frowned before addressing the Andorian again.  "Have you entered your research on any equipment that isn't specifically yours?  As in, besides your own personal terminal, PADD or department terminals?  If Nyle cannot find anything, the next step may be to rip out all of your physical equipment and replace it with new gear, on the off chance that it has been phsyically altered in some way."  His gaze settled on the Chief Engineer.  "Eric, if it comes to that, I want you to personally oversee the new equipment."

Silas gritted his teeth.  "I want this traitor found.  Starfleet Intelligence may want to enjoy a nice chat with them... provided they don't run into an airlock mishap before then." 

Drake supposed that he was kidding, though some of the new officers might not appreciate such dark humor.  Then again, given recent events... they would have to either understand, or they would have to deal with it. 

A thought occured to Silas.  "Nyle, I wonder... your computer issue seems rather odd.  As does the timing.  You may want to coordinate with Engineering on this, and Lieutenant Tal feels that she has some resources that may be of use to you. I wonder if this might be related in any way to the vanishing report; I am not much of a believer in coincidences."

OOC: any responses, expositions, etc...

Drake sat back in his chair.  "Very well.  I have reviewed the refit and resupply reports, as well as the crew trnasfer orders.  Is there anything else here that needs to be brought to my attention?"

OOC: speak now...

The Captain nodded.  "In that case, I won't take up any more of your time.  Dismissed."

I agree.  To me, if you are doing Western Fantasy, then your dragon shouldn't have feathers or whatnot.  But with fantasy/mythology in general, there is a lot of room for interpretation. 

To be honest, I just want to see well executed dragons - powerful, terrifying, intelligent.  I'm not as fussed for the specifics of the anatomy.

Heh.  Somebody's gonna shave you first so they stick? 

Heheh... I love the idea of a big ol' furry cat man with a bunch of bald spots with Hello Kitty band aids. 

Heh.  I wasn't, either.  Ch'dau was outnumbered four to one, then five to one, in a situation where I ruled that he lost all of his DEX bonuses to AC - and actually took a penalty on top of it. 

In an open area, he holds his own better.  In that situation, with him not moving in order to protect the boy, with no way to really dodge... he took a lot of punishment. 

Fortunately, Gib and Aranwen were not far behind.  But it was far from a sure thing.

Health:
Ch'dau - very serious wounds
Aranwen - moderate wound
Gib - unwounded
Kithran - unwounded
Midge - unwounded
Cedric - unwounded

Magic:
Midge has five mana points remianing.

Cedric is down two 1st level spells. 

While sympathetic to the fouling that the mother is receiving, Ch'dau was also aware that the older boy literally had seconds to live.  So with a roar, the big mercenary leapt among the zombies, heedless of his own safety. 

In the tight confines of the smaller bedroom, Ch'dau looked every part of the cornered beast.  He layed about with blades and teeth, shattering one of the zombies holding the boy.  With no room to manuever, the undead were free to pummel him, but the kazari barely registered the pain from their blows.  In the melee, the boy was dropped, where he lied motionless on the floor after curling himself into a ball.  Ch'dau stood over him, straddling his prone form, using his own hulking bulk as a shield, roaring a challenge to any who dare to try to take him. 

His actions drew the other zombies in the main room, whose press blocked the doorway, ensuring that the strugglee in the smaller bedroom was now truly a fight to the death.  There would be no escape, no surrender.  There would be victory, or all in the bedroom would perish.

The giggler did not leave its place atop the prone woman.  It continued to thrust away, giggling with a hateful leer, content to let the zombies handle the warrior for now.

The fight began to go poorly for Ch'dau; while he was vastly superior to the undead foes, he was significant;y outnumbered and unable to properly move to avoid their blows, which seemingly rained down upon him from every side.  He drove a blade through the chest of a zombie, killing it and pinning it to the wall... but even as he did so, a corner of his mind registered that his wounds were piling up.

But then, Gib and Aranwen made their way past the zombies and wasps and inside the cabin.  They saw the prone woman with her attacker, they heard Ch'dau's battle roar, and the situation was clear.  With a wordless glance between them, the warrior priest sprinted for the doorway, crashing into the read of the zombies, while the Bladesinger opened the giggling monstrosity from collarbone to armpit.

Even sorely wounded, the giggler was not killed; it gathered itself and leapt upon Aranwen, cutting her with filthy claws and pinning her back against the wall.  The sylvari struggled for a moment, feeling the cold touch of the grave try to take control of her body, but she shrugged it off and smashed the pommel of her blade up into the thing's hateful face; it staggered, then went limp as Kithran drove both of her daggers deeply into its back. 

Gib carved another zombie back away from the doorway, and Ch'dau, heartend by the aid, redoubled his efforts, ripping another of the undead nearly in half.  In moments, the two companions felled the last of them, and the cabin was once again quiet.

The father arrived, and his sobs of fear turned to joy as the two boys came running to him.  At first, he did not seem to register the exposed position of his wife, so great was his joy that his children lived.  Then, his eyes fell upon her. 

He saw the bleeding wounds on her neck and chest, knelt at her side, sobbed.  And then... the woman's legs slowly closed.  Not due to gravity, but due to the fact that she had begun to shake off the paralysis inflicted upon her by the giggler. 

The woodsman's wife was alive.  Her wounds, while ugly, were superficial.  He soon coaxed her into a sitting position, helped her to pull her skirts down, and she cooperated... but her gaze never faltered.  He kissed her, her children wrapped their arms around her... but the woman never stopped staring, wordlessly, into some space that only she could see.

The man was pathetically gratetful for the party's assistance.  He offered venison in way of thanks, he offered the only silver coins that he owned.  Any worldly possession that he owned was yours for the taking, so great was his gratitude.  The boys thanked you, heroes that you are, for saving them.  The smaller boy shyly asked if it would be all right to pet Ch'dau, who saved his brother.

 

Yes, a couple still live.

I don't know how much strategy there can be at this point; we have several people moving towards the cabin, one in it, multiple undead threatening the family inside.  I am of a mind to push out a post today.

The kitty is currently alone inside.  Gib and Aranwen are not far behind, they can make it inside within a round.  Cedric and Kith are another round back.

Woo!

lol @ clone slaw.

Solid post, Eol.  That's all we need - response/reaction where appropriate, let me kow what your clone wants to do, where appropriate.

Good tips, Bree.

It's a balancing act, I think.  To me, you can really get away with playing Paranoia people as "one note" and it work out great.  Gettign too deep just leads to frustration when your clone gets killed by random GM whim. 

As I've told you via PM, Eol, I do think you are overthinking it.  Paranoia is supposed to be campy, zany, silly.  You're such an incredible player, and you write freakig novellas to games... I think you are looking for that here, and it's a square peg in a round hole. 

How do you want to proceed?

Thanks for the response.  You have been rock solid from day one. 

Your approach is correct - Paranoia is more casual, and is intentionally more bizarre, more in your face silliness.  Melodramatic roleplay is the way to go.

I'm afraid that I'll end up having to replace Bud, which is just too bad, as he did a nice job. 

If we're just having a bit of a lull, that's fine.  Wha I don't want is to have to guilt players every week to post.  the point of a game is to have fun, so if it's more a chore than fun, we need to re assess.

There is really nothing that I feel that I can add that helps in any way.  Do know that I am sorry that you are having to carry all of this.  The Inn is a community, and we hate to see one of our own hurting.

Okay.  It has been a week, and I have exactly two player posts.  This is roughly the same spot that a lot of Paranoia games tend to get derailed; most people are not familiar with the game, and it isn't everyone's cup of tea.

I know that Keeper had a wedding this past week, and has been scarce.  so I can give him a pass. 

Bud is temporarily away, I'm NPCing him for a bit longer. 

No posts from elixir or Eol.  And posts in general seem to be harder and harder to come by.

So, where do we stand?

1) Everything is okay, really.  Games have highs and lows, this is just a low, it will cycle back. 
2) We're okay, but maybe we should consider finding a replacement player or two, since Paranoia isn't for everyone.
3) We've been charity posting, but we're actually tired of this game, tired of dying, let's just shake hands and walk away.
4) We'd like this game, but the GM needs to do [FILL IN THE BLANK] to make it more fun/more iteresting to read/[SOMETHING ELSE].
5) ?

Let me know, please.

For combat, all I really need is to know your general plan for tactics.  You can do that via Q&A post, or even via PM.  Regular game posts are the best, but I have no issue with you just letting me know how you plan to proceed in combat, then writing a recap post after.

Nine here, too! 

Thanks, Blackthorn.  Sorry, I was impatient, wanted to get this up before the weekend. 

I know you are busy and I felt there wasn't a lot of choices left open to you.  Honsestly, unless you had chosen to stay behind, or circle the cabin or something, this is how it would have played out no matter what, given Ch'dau doing his best beserker rage impersonation.

I updated my post to better reflect the number of opponents.