Sideshow - Servants of Bobo [Mad Hermit] - Game Thread

[Tibbius]

Please feel free to italicize and right justify anything that isn't in character but seems so closely game adjacent that out-of-character thread would be unwieldy.

Doctor Frog swallowed his tongue, then spat it out again and hit the musician Maestro right between the eyes. "How's that headache now?" he croaked. They were in the room with his cage. Maestro held the Dr. in her hands.

In Mirrors-and-Shadows, Lola stalked around a corner and confronted SOMA carried on a pillow by its triune mandrills. She had been trying to figure out the intricate dance that could transform the "fun"house into an interdimensional transgalactic gateway. So far no luck! She didn't know why SOMA was wandering through here, the strange creation seemed content with circus life.

Bobo's vuvuzela blared. The clownish Master of Ceremonies summoned them to perform!

How do each of you respond to Bobo's command?

[JNAProductions]

Maestro, the young musician woman with no name besides her title, sighs heavily. Another day, another look into the doldrums of life, she says.

[NontheistCleric]

"Is that the sound of a hoof I hear?" says a harsh electronic voice. "Spider-One, turn me to face our companion."

As the synthetic registers fade, a spider monkey sitting atop the SOMA springs into action, tugging its monitor and attached sensor-head into position to survey the centaur that has just appeared around the corner.

"Miss Lola," the AI observes. "Are you in search of something?"

Then a familiar horn's sound pierces the darkened air, prompting the spider monkey to twitch and screech softly.

"But it seems we must cut our encounter short," remarks the SOMA. "Mandrills. To the main tent!"

Silently, the cushion-bearers shuffle about, making sure not to jostle the SOMA as they begin their journey back out of Mirrors-and-Shadows.

Note: There are usually three mandrills, for stability.

[gryffydd65]

The two foot tall red eyed frog slowly made his way to opening of the tent. He eyed the waiting crowd, wondering how many times he would have to lick an injury or something's head to cure the unfortunate creature. His gift had become his curse. If only he would have never set up his tree house and cured the poor. But his goodness prevailed and Bobo had taken advantage of it and captured him.

[tonberryking]

Whether it was scrawled on the wall of a bathroom, written down hastily in a notebook hidden underneath a pile of junk that The Powers That Be overlooked, or even enough rumors that if someone pieced all together and saw the patterns and parts everybody agreed on, Lola knew something was up with the old Fun house at the bottom of the wooden stairwell off the main circus thoroughfare.

"SOMA? I'm glad it's you, but keep your minions out of arm's reach," She hates it when those monkeys get too close or worse try to climb over her. Gives her the willies.

"Listen, I've been getting around and I discovered some-" there are the bells. Crud. Whatever energy the centaur had, seems to rapidly deplete, and her tone dims. "...Nevermind. It may not be important, anyway..." Her tail droops. Another show. Another night of hurling lasers harmlessly into the air to amuse tourists. She hopes they actually watch this time and don't throw things at her again. The least The Powers That Be could do would be to keep the rabble in line...

[Tibbius]

The rubes are entering from the main airlock and from the transporter pads, assembling on the bleachers, spitting and doing other things on the floor that SOMA's monkeys will later sweep. As you assemble backstage you take weary peeks at them around the curtain edges, they look like every other drab set of spacers whom you've entertained since joining this carnival. Some tentacles, some teeth, eyestalks, vacsuits, lasers and lightswords strapped to hips. Another tough crowd.

Bobo is cackling maniacally and rubbing his spidery hands together. That isn't make up; his species really has that kind of creepy demonic face coloration. It's a symptom of reproductive adulthood. Supposedly it will fade once he has his change of life. The crazy spiked and multicolored hair, that's all styling. Usually the Clowniads have a mild white poof like a dandelion.

"Well!" he says with crazed cheer. "Another show! Miss Lola, Maestro, lights and music ... please. SOMA, make the monkeys dance. Doctor Frog, you're here for safety reasons, as always.

"The show must go on!" He raises the vuvuzela to his sphinctered mouth and lets out another merry blast.

What do you do?

[JNAProductions]

Maestro raises her voice in song-a wordless, merry tune. It's jaunty, and quickly joined by percussion, strings, and brass, as SOMA's simian helpers dress her in her one-man band outfit.

She hears a few cheers for the music, and manages to smile in response-letting others be happy is one of the few things she cares for anymore.

[NontheistCleric]

"Why do you always say that at the beginning?" asks the SOMA. "The show going on cannot be in question at this juncture. Would it not be better to reserve it for the midpoint?"

This is not a new point of contention, but the AI seems to feel the need to bring it up in some form or another every few shows.

"Anyway," it says, "dancing monkeys. Who shall we have today?"

The usual show-monkeys are arranged in ranks backstage. The dance-trained ones stand in front, since Bobo often starts with them.

"Let us say... Tamarin-Nine, Squirrel-Three and Marmoset-Seven. Dance Number Five. Remember, wait until the music starts!"

A squirrel monkey, marmoset and a golden lion tamarin break from the front row and scamper out through the curtain, chattering as they go.

"Baboon-Eight and Baboon-Six, you two help Maestro dress."

Two baboons trudge out from the separate 'menial group' and start picking up pieces of the musician's kit.

As the music and lights begin to blare and flare outside, the SOMA ponders the encounter in Mirrors-and-Shadows. Could Lola also have been seeking the secrets of the place? To itself, whatever the place conceals would only be a contingency, for one does not put oneself into another's power without some means of escape or betrayal—and preferably more than one. For Lola, though, it might be part of an active plan; the SOMA can understand that, having watched her grow ever more discontent in the circus.

[Tibbius]

As the monkeys began their stiff-limbed lurching dance, and Maestro's music swirled, Lola's multi-colored laser beams flickered above the stage and the crowd of onlookers, casting eerie and intermittent light across the scene. The monkeys' fur glowed iridescent in the shorter wavelengths.

Nadia the fire-breather chuckled as she ingested yet another handle of starjuice. "You do you, girl!" and she belched a jet of bluish alcohol flame. The scales on her face and hands glittered and twinkled in the reflected light of Lola's beams.

Arthur, the contortionist, squelched and slithered into position in the on-deck circle, carefully arranging his tentacles beneath his head and anxiously clicking his beak.

It was a small circus, but the owners liked it that way.

In the bleachers, the audience were getting restless - more so than usual. There were chitterings and hootings.

Glancing out around the curtain, Maestro saw a scene that induced a slight catch in her rhythm. Simians in vacsuits were angrily throwing popcorn at their dancing cousins! The performing monkeys deviated from their choreography to snatch up kernels with their tails and snack. The monkeys in the stands were standing, now, and seemed to be pressing downward through the audience toward the stage.

[gryffydd65]

Doctor Frog's eyes grew bigger than ever. The crowd had started throwing things at SOMA's dancers. He hoped it wouldn't get out of hand.

[Tibbius]

All of you can see the monkeys swarming through the crowd down toward the stage. They seem angry. The dancing monkeys pause in their prancing, staring with fascination at their more-highly-evolved cousins.

[tonberryking]

Lola made intricate gestures as rainbows of light and magic course from the veins in her arms and through her finger tips, flinging shots and bolts through the air, a false smile plastered onto her features. Sometimes, her smile can turn back earnest if there are some awestruck kids or genuinely moved carnival goers appreciating it, but to most, she's a glorified fireworks maker. She has to snap and clench her fingers, causing pops and booms of flickering lights, keeping the light show harmless rather than fire stray shots of danger lasers.

Of course, there's always the temptation, particularly at her captors...but then everything starts to go crazy. She should have wondered if simians would ever show up in the audience... Rarely anyone looks at her for long, do so and you miss the lights, but she felt very awkward that one time the anthro horses in viking gear showed up and kept giving her odd looks...

Without thinking, she twirls her finds and sends a few spirals of lights at the ground in front of the 'party crashers' letting the effects pop and bang. Hopefully it'll scare them back and whatever this place has in the way of bouncers can deal with the rest...

[Tibbius]

The scatterings of laser light momentarily halted the encroaching audience members. They paused at the edge of the stage, just in front of the bleachers. "Down in front!" yelled someone in the first row, shoving angrily at a gibbonish creature who spun back toward them.

Bobo blared three quick blasts of the vuvuzela and the purple and pink scaled gorillas emerged from backstage, moving around the monkeys on all four hands to confront the vacsuited simians with appalling and menacing nudity. "Hey you!" exclaimed the largest gorilla in her basso voice. "Get back to your seats!"

The simians squalled at her but retreated, one of them making a rude gesture toward the stage. The gibbon in the green vacsuit was engaged in a wrestling match with an eye-stalked four-armed lizardy person, who seemed on the verge of biting.

[NontheistCleric]

The SOMA is silent for a moment—a moment of pure terror. Monkeys independent of its own will can mean many things, but one of those things is its creator, an especially increased possibility with any monkeys that have managed to get themselves vacsuits. Has the scientist come to exact vengeance?

Still, nothing is yet certain, and the most important thing is keep control of the situation. There is a whirring and a shower of sparks as the sole servo in the SOMA's body—the one that turns its 'head'—powers up. Normally, Spider-One handles that task in order to save power, but right now there is no time to waste on such commands.

"Spider-One," whispers the SOMA in a low electronic crackle. "Run back to our tent, gather the other mandrills and get the combat bag."

As the spider monkey leaps to the ground and rushes out through the main tent's back exit, there is a flash of light and three pygmy marmosets drop out of thin air onto the cushion beside the SOMA.

"Marmosets. There are some monkeys wearing vacsuits outside. I want you to follow them discreetly. Remain in a team. If they leave the circus area, PM-A will leave the group and report back to me. If they make contact with any non-monkeys, B will report back instead. If they detect you and attempt to engage, all of you try to escape and lead them back here."

Unfortunately, although the monkeys can understand the commands perfectly, they cannot respond or convey information long-range, so the SOMA has devised tactics like the above to compensate. I probably should note here that these marmosets are already part of the SOMA's retinue, it's just summoning them for expedience's sake without re-implanting the control circuits. Also, pygmy marmosets are the smallest variety of monkey, just for reference.

Any limits on what the combat bag could contain? Regardless, its other function is to be emptied out and used to carry the SOMA itself, as using the cushion in tense situations carries the risk of falling off.

[Tibbius]

The combat bag must be single-monkey-handable. A blaster, a few thermonuclear grenades, who knows what all. Given all this stuff will be implemented by monkeys = the even/odd risk mechanic is very suitable.

The pygmies chittered and scampered away in pursuit of their larger and more communicative, yet equally sapient cousins.

The remaining audience settled back in their seats as the performing monkeys hesitantly resumed their capering. Maestro augmented the music ... Arthur tied his two least tentacles in a complex knot and found himself confused how to untangle. It was almost time for him to go on. Nadia sneered at him; there was no love between the two.

Does it occur to anyone that a mad fracas with the audience storming the stage might present an opportunity?

[gryffydd65]

Dr. Frog quickly moves as fast as any two foot tall tree frog could to see beyond the tent as the commotion erupted. He so desperately wanted to leave this life and get back to his own world even if he didn't know the name of his planet.

[NontheistCleric]

The SOMA silently notes Dr. Frog's departure, then turns to observe Arthur's latest predicament while it waits for Spider-One to return with the mandrills and bag. It sighs, a burst of electronic static.

"Again, Arthur? Baboon-Eight and Baboon-Six, help him pull his arms apart. Not too hard—try spitting to lubricate first if he doesn't mind."

I'm thinking the combat bag would mostly contain gloves/shoes, probably reinforced and with metal claws, so that they're intuitive for the monkeys to use and prevent them from hurting themselves with their usual attacks. Also some of those thermonuclear grenades, as they're relatively easy to operate and can in the worst case be used for suicide runs (The SOMA is not exactly a proponent of animal rights). Presumably they have a smaller area of effect than a RL thermonuclear bomb? If not, then let's just say they're normal grenades.

[gryffydd65]

When we arrive at a place are we flying from planet to planet place to place on the same planet. How much freedom do we have when we arrive some where.

[Tibbius]

As Dr. Frog bounced out through the portal at the side of the inflated tent, he observed apes in vacuum suits who were busily assembling some inscrutable device nearby.

The two baboons carefully untied Arthur's tentacles. He waved all his appendages gently and clicked his beak in a rhythm that might mean "Thanks!"

The marmosets did not return.

The mandrills arrived dragging the combat bag, the (low-yield) grenades knocking together against each other and the fighting mittens as the bag bumped over the backstage floor.

SOMA's portion of the show was over. Maestro let the music diminish to a gentle background melody. Lola let the laser light show dissipate. The audience cheered.

[Tibbius]

Lurking back stage as the monkeys retreated from the performance, SOMA observed that Marmoset-Seven did not return.

Bobo approached Maestro and Lola. "Are you ready for Arthur's performance?" he possibly sneered. The coloring all over his face made it very difficult to discern his actual expression. Perhaps the seemingly random changes in color blobs were how he expressed emotion?

The circus travels through the Shadows and Mirrors piece by piece, carried by the performers. Wherever it arrives, the Shadows and Mirrors are first. Only Bobo (so far) knows how to navigate the funhouse portal; he leads the procession to and fro until the last piece has arrived at the new location.

[Tibbius]

Hey all - I apologize that I've failed to engage your interest as thoroughly as I had hoped. Do you think there's anything we can do to get this moving again, or should we call it now?

[NontheistCleric]

"Mandrill-One, empty the bag and put me in it," orders the SOMA. "The rest of you, arm yourselves. Mandrills and baboons have the melee weapons. Everyone else, take a grenade if you can. Form a phalanx around me—we are returning to our tent."

Carefully emptying out the weapons bag, the largest mandrill lifts the SOMA off its cushioned platform and puts it inside before securing it around its shoulders. His second-largest fellow, the front-most carrier of the platform, folds it up so that only the hardwood underside is exposed and hefts it like a club. All the rest converge on the pile of weapons, softly screeching as they don metal-clawed mittens and snatch up grenades.

While the others gather up their implements, Spider-One and Mandrills Two through Six receive some secret instructions. "Spider-One, go with Mandrill-Two and search for Marmoset-Seven. If you encounter trouble, escape back to the tent while Mandrill-Two fights whatever the trouble is. Three, Four, Five and Six, I want you all to secure Shadows-and-Mirrors."

A strained servo's whir sounds as the SOMA turns to look at the other backstage circus folk. "No need to be alarmed, everyone. This is just... a drill."

Then it casts its gaze back to the exit. "Alright, monkeys! Proceed!" it barks.

However, the war-party has barely cleared the tent-flap when it sees the vacuum-suited apes assembling the mysterious device.

"Stop!" commands the SOMA, a crackle of real anxiety entering its voice. The procession grinds to a halt. "You in the suits! Cease and explain yourselves!"

I'm assuming that the apes are still out there—correct me if this is not the case.

[Tibbius]

Apparently lacking SOMA's special implants, or perhaps just unimpressed by a talking box in a bag, the space-suited simians continue to assemble their bizarre contraption. They resemble a hybrid chimpanzee/orangutan with sad wise faces visible through the bubbles of their helmets. For whatever reason, they have put the helmets on despite the utterly breathable atmosphere in the docking bay outside the main tent.

Let's talk about the docking bay. It's one of many similar bays in the derelict interstellar weapons station: hundreds of feet across, a hundred feet high, big enough for almost any ship to fully dock or at least insert a nose. Gleaming with grey and black metal and white fiber-resin composites ... a little pockmarked by meteorites that strayed through the electrostatic field that holds the atmosphere into the bay.

A half-dozen ships have landed in the bay, their crew still attending the show in the tent where Arthur and Nadia now are engaged in a complex dance involving flailing tentacles and jets of flame. It is unclear whether either party enjoys the scene. A few other attendees have come from other bays through any of the passages that meander through the hulking spherical station like wormholes in an apple.

[NontheistCleric]

"Right," orders the SOMA. "Mandrill-Two, fetch Bobo."

The bludgeon-wielding mandrill starts back into the tent to get the circusmaster.

"The rest of you, surround these apes! Defend yourselves if attacked."

[Tibbius]

Looks like we're down to the two of you, @Nontheistcleric and @gryffydd65. I'm happy to continue and say that the other two either take this opportunity to sidle through Mirrors&Shadows - or else don't - depending what you do.

[Tibbius]

At this point, I'm going to ask for SOMA to test Monkeys (2d6, pick 1) on your Resilience against the apes' Resistance 10. You might want to use Orokos or the die roll thread in giantitp, or some other roller that will enable you to re-roll 6s without double posting here. Don't do 2d6k1 or similar bc that will give you the higher die, which you might not want.

[NontheistCleric]

Terrible luck, I got a 1 (either way).

[Tibbius]

SOMA knows there's some limit to how many monkeys it can summon without pausing to let its circuits ... refresh. Error check. Cool down. Whatever the physical reason, it can't summon monkeys 24/7.

That could be problematic, as one of the apes building the bizarre structure yeets a bolt right into Mandrill-4's temple, knocking the monkey senseless. The ape casually turns back to work. The structure appears almost complete.

Dr. Frog crouches, ready for anything in his ranidine way.

[NontheistCleric]

The SOMA emits a static-filled noise of computerized frustration. "So much for self-defense. All monkeys with melee weapons, attack! Try not to trample Mandrill-Four."

[gryffydd65]

Dr. Frog tries to get as close to SOMA as possible seeing it is trying to escape or defend the side show. Either way he is trying to find away to leave as fast as possible.