och, lad, I don't know where you been, but I see you won first prize!
It all started the day my vampire landlord acquired 85% of Rivula. He is very near to owning the entirety of the sim, and was considering a new security system.
He'd heard good things about...
(Aren't they cute? Three Turrets square off in the new empty section of Rivula.)
These things. :) (By the by, if you're curious and/or want to purchase one? You can find them here. They're very effective, surprisingly efficient, and yes--they speak.)
How'ver, he wasn't sure that they'd work. They were equipped not to target members of the land group, so--we were the only two in the sim--I dutifully took off anything that might get damaged in the crossfire, and changed my group. I took the first volley with some effort--they're surprisingly efficient--then ran behind them.
First weakness: if you run behind a Turret? They will not shoot you.
We needed to know more.
So, I called out to friends and companions in Caledon, and asked if there was a fairly stable land we could, erm, borrow for a bit.
Duchess of Middlesea, her Grace Gloire Thibaud, obligingly offered. So off we went.
(Setting up the field of combat in Middlesea. Mr. Bubba Daniels, Duchess Gloire Thibaud, Mr. Hassanov and Colonel O'Toole face off against three Turrets and Mr. Hank Rucker.)
(The fighting begins. Mr. Daniels advances as the Duchess and Miss Vi Paravane (just off the frame to the left) look on; Mr. Hassanov charges for another volley.)
(Sadly, your faithful correspondent does not remember the great bear of a man in that amazing cloak[[*]]; otherwise, Colonel O'Toole, Mr. Hassanov and Mr. Daniels firing; Miss Paravane has learned the wisdom of Not Being Seen.)
[[*Has been suggested that said bear? Is Mr. Exrex Somme. I plead distraction from turret fire if t'is, because I should have recognized him.]]
(An important discovery: the Turrets WILL NOT BURN. Also, Miss Neome and Miss Midnight Bohemia, designer of robot and Jaegermaiden skins, arrive.)
(MASS DEATHING. It was chaos. Dogs and cats, living together, CHAOS.)
After I stopped laughing so hard, and reformed in Penzance, I arrived back to the battle, and discovered things had taken a tern for the wurst:
(I'm terribly sorry. Considering the images about to be shown, those were two terrible puns. But onward. Mass deathing on the field of battle--of a different kind: pidgeons. Miss Merlot Zymurgy arrives and is appropriately perplexed.)
(The combatants take to the skies, the better to target the pidgeon soldiers.)
(The Duchess is under attack!!)
After I was set ablaze by Mr. Hassanov--light the bird, not the cat, light the bird, NOT THE CAT!--I ran in a cloud of kamikaze pidgeons. Straight into Mr. Hassanov. Terribly sorry about that.
(Oops.)
(The great Pidgeon War of '08 is OVER! Huzzah! We are saved! Also, Colonel O'Toole shows us his big metal doughnut.)
Which reminded us, whatever happened to his first food-based craft?
(Colonel O'Toole obligingly whips out his weiner for us. Then crashes.)
(We are so grateful for the assistance, we decide to award him...erm...first prize.)
[19:27] Merlot Zymurgy cursteys, well, thank you for letting me get covered in pigeon carcass... it was lovely
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmm. I dunno. Am I comfortable in boarding another man's meat... Hum.
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: I dont know where you been boy, but I see you won first prize!
[19:28] You: *facepalm*
[19:28] Hank Rucker: lol
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmmm
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: its just all in a days event at caledon
[19:28] You: Indeed.
[19:28] You: So, successful, dire, surreal. Yes, a typical day. :)
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy: Iason, why are you always in the middle of these things?
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy snerks
[19:29] You: He asked this time!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: lol...yea..they said we could shoot things!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: that always perks me up
I have been your faithful war correspondent, Emilly Orr, reporting live from the front lines.
*collapses in laughter*
He'd heard good things about...
(Aren't they cute? Three Turrets square off in the new empty section of Rivula.)
These things. :) (By the by, if you're curious and/or want to purchase one? You can find them here. They're very effective, surprisingly efficient, and yes--they speak.)
How'ver, he wasn't sure that they'd work. They were equipped not to target members of the land group, so--we were the only two in the sim--I dutifully took off anything that might get damaged in the crossfire, and changed my group. I took the first volley with some effort--they're surprisingly efficient--then ran behind them.
First weakness: if you run behind a Turret? They will not shoot you.
We needed to know more.
So, I called out to friends and companions in Caledon, and asked if there was a fairly stable land we could, erm, borrow for a bit.
Duchess of Middlesea, her Grace Gloire Thibaud, obligingly offered. So off we went.
(Setting up the field of combat in Middlesea. Mr. Bubba Daniels, Duchess Gloire Thibaud, Mr. Hassanov and Colonel O'Toole face off against three Turrets and Mr. Hank Rucker.)
(The fighting begins. Mr. Daniels advances as the Duchess and Miss Vi Paravane (just off the frame to the left) look on; Mr. Hassanov charges for another volley.)
(Sadly, your faithful correspondent does not remember the great bear of a man in that amazing cloak[[*]]; otherwise, Colonel O'Toole, Mr. Hassanov and Mr. Daniels firing; Miss Paravane has learned the wisdom of Not Being Seen.)
[[*Has been suggested that said bear? Is Mr. Exrex Somme. I plead distraction from turret fire if t'is, because I should have recognized him.]]
(An important discovery: the Turrets WILL NOT BURN. Also, Miss Neome and Miss Midnight Bohemia, designer of robot and Jaegermaiden skins, arrive.)
(MASS DEATHING. It was chaos. Dogs and cats, living together, CHAOS.)
After I stopped laughing so hard, and reformed in Penzance, I arrived back to the battle, and discovered things had taken a tern for the wurst:
(I'm terribly sorry. Considering the images about to be shown, those were two terrible puns. But onward. Mass deathing on the field of battle--of a different kind: pidgeons. Miss Merlot Zymurgy arrives and is appropriately perplexed.)
(The combatants take to the skies, the better to target the pidgeon soldiers.)
(The Duchess is under attack!!)
After I was set ablaze by Mr. Hassanov--light the bird, not the cat, light the bird, NOT THE CAT!--I ran in a cloud of kamikaze pidgeons. Straight into Mr. Hassanov. Terribly sorry about that.
(Oops.)
(The great Pidgeon War of '08 is OVER! Huzzah! We are saved! Also, Colonel O'Toole shows us his big metal doughnut.)
Which reminded us, whatever happened to his first food-based craft?
(Colonel O'Toole obligingly whips out his weiner for us. Then crashes.)
(We are so grateful for the assistance, we decide to award him...erm...first prize.)
[19:27] Merlot Zymurgy cursteys, well, thank you for letting me get covered in pigeon carcass... it was lovely
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmm. I dunno. Am I comfortable in boarding another man's meat... Hum.
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: I dont know where you been boy, but I see you won first prize!
[19:28] You: *facepalm*
[19:28] Hank Rucker: lol
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmmm
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: its just all in a days event at caledon
[19:28] You: Indeed.
[19:28] You: So, successful, dire, surreal. Yes, a typical day. :)
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy: Iason, why are you always in the middle of these things?
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy snerks
[19:29] You: He asked this time!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: lol...yea..they said we could shoot things!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: that always perks me up
I have been your faithful war correspondent, Emilly Orr, reporting live from the front lines.
*collapses in laughter*
Comments
I cannot say with surety that it was part of his thinking when choosing the name. I can say this particular flying machine has become rather synonymous with him.
Blue ribbon or not. :)