You're a 1st Marsian Settler

Trebuchet · 2004-09-30 17:08:08

"Old geezers of Mars unite!" Trebuchet said, as the Belgian - the most famed connoisseur of beer on the planet - rose from his seat in the back. "We just need some dynamite and a rover or two."

"What would we need dynamite for?" one of the three Cobraites said, confused, as the rest of the bar's patrons fled from Ryxe's Exorcist impersonation.

"You said Cobra will come only in Mars's darkest hour, right? We'll blow up the geothermal plant... that'll get things rolling. Hell, Cobra might come out of hiding just for that - he always did hate to miss the party."

"You are wise," another Cobraite said. "I believe we can steal some explosives from the mines nearby. Many followers of the Great Prophet of Mars work there. They should help us."

"Then let's get going!" Trebuchet said, striding out of the bar easily in the low gravity.

Rxke · 2004-09-30 17:38:15

Whaddaya think, Trebuchet? Should I spraypaint my glow-after-dark body black to make sure they don't see us coming, or not?
Newbies working in the mines will probably drop everything they're doing to run for the hills if they see my poor excuse or a body, heh, those youngsters are sooo afraid of a little radiation...
So that could come in handy, and OTOH, the Cobraites are used to the sight, so they'll know we're friends...

Cobra Commander · 2004-09-30 18:36:17

Days stretched into months, months to years and years on into decades as the people did spread and multiply across the land. Though they did thrive, they had become wicked and decadent, slothful and full of contempt, sarcasm and other disagreeable qualities. All but the faithful, who did keep the word of the Prophet in their hearts and the liquors of truth in their bellies. Many found themselves cast out by the wicked, scorned by the Martian Republic which had swept darkness and universal suffrage across the land and had driven the faithful from the fertile Hellas basin, usurping it for their own wicked purposes. Here did they gather, deep below the great mountains, waiting for Mars' darkest hour when they would be needed most, and not coincidentally have the greatest opportunity to seize power that they might bring salvation to the Martian people, sinners though they were for the Prophet is wise and just and seeks good and justice for all.

Lo, for the Prophet strode down from his tower, which while overly tall was deep below Olympus Mons, its spires reaching upward toward the vast ceiling of stone like the clawed hand of the demon Democritus, destroyer of worlds and generally disreputable fellow. Upon his head the Prophet did wear a helmet of blackened steel, and he did carry in one hand a locally manufactured derivative of a Kalashnikov rifle, and in the other he did hold a locally distilled derivative of Kalashnikov vodka.

"Pay close attention ye, for the time of reckoning is approaching," the Prophet did proclaim to stunned murmurs. "The signs we have awaited have begun to manifest," he did explain, leaving out the part about the areologists snooping around the mountain.
"We must make preparations, for Mars is vast and its climate still somewhat less than... pleasant, and fighting a holy war across its vast plains is a daunting proposition, one which may be forced upon us by those who stole our lands. Lands made fertile by our own hands, waters made to flow by the power of our collective will and the grace of the Most High!" And the people did cheer, and chants of 'Cobra!' did fill the spacious cavern. And the priests did pass out one of each Kalashnikov to the people, the one on which to pledge fealty to the Most High and the Prophet, the other as a precaution against the aggression of the wicked heathen masses, sure to follow upon emergence from sanctuary. And the faithful did drink, and missionaries did depart across the land, so was it written, so was it done, bottoms up and f**kin' a.

Palomar · 2004-09-30 19:30:45

*Why did I agree to meet Agent S in a place like this?

<grimace> This Martian Martini doesn't taste good.

Maybe it is just a rumor. I hope so. Not only has he become crazed with power and his followers are blind zealots...now there are claims their very physical appearances are altering.

Like that creepy thing in the Avatar Box.

If it's true, they'll deny it. While shrinking back further into the shadows, of course.

"It's the accumulative effect of radiation." They'll hiss. "Got to expect a bit of morphing."

Absurd.

If it's true, I've got a cure for them. Especially if the bit about the fangs is true. The mad fiends are killing rabbits left and right -- that is a fact. But drinking...

(A nice pointed sta--)

"Agent S, I presume?"

Cobra Commander · 2004-10-01 14:56:58

The Prophet did slowly climb through the narrow passage, ever upwards toward the summit of the great mountain, which while a hallowed site was also quite literally hollowed by years of robot labor. After many hours he emerged from the carefully hidden stone hatchway, past the rock turrets and stone covered robot sentries and into the light of day.

“It burns us!” the Prophet did proclaim before slamming down his helmet’s polarized and mirrored faceplate. Atop the mountain he did remain for three days and nights, in conference with the Most High. And as the Prophet talked business with God, with whom he goes way back, the armies of the Faithful did continue to train, and the factories did churn out weapons and robots and all manner of goods that the faithful might be equipped for all contingencies. And the hydroponic farms did increase their potato yield, and the rabbits did multiply that the faithful might be supplied with field rations fitting of their appetites for carbs, alcohol and undercooked meat. And the consumables were packed in nearly indestructible plastic, and in Yu Knight fashion marked “MR. E”, for the contents were indeed a mystery to all as only a small imprinted number gave clues, yet all contained some variation of potatoes, rabbit and liquor of some manner as prescribed in the holy books passed down from on high.

And on the third night the Prophet did re-enter the stone cathedral and there did meet with the high priests who would lead the faithful into battle should the need be forced unto them, and the lesser priests who would lead the robot legions. And they did report that the Most High had been most generous in his bounty, and that decades within the mountains with no outside contact had left the people with little to do, thus giving a large pool of faithful young warriors of righteousness. And so did the robots greatly multiply as well, though in a somewhat different fashion, and the Prophet did wait for the signs the Most High had foretold and word from the missionaries sent out among the heathens that they might be saved from damnation and to determine how many of the faithful remained in bondage to the wicked edifice of Democritus, the destroyer who doth bind them with the laws of the lowly, the decadent, and the somewhat slow-witted in the eyes of the Most High. Praise be to the legions of salvation, though their renditions of classic Martian drinking songs left something to be desired as the chorus to ‘Martian Rover’ rang out into the caverns…

Trebuchet · 2004-10-01 19:18:05

Trebuchet, Rxye, and the Cobraites looked on in satisfaction at the mass chaos and panic gripping the streets of the city as the dome was instantly plunged into darkness. Save for a few emergency lights and the steady background drone of the air cyclers, the electric grid was down Smoke billowed into the sky, along with a plume of steam and escaping water. Seeing all that precious water escape from the exploded geothermal plant brought a tear to Trebuchet's eye, but that might have just been the Martian dust that got in everything, too.

"Well, that's that. Time to grab a rover and head to Mount Olympus."

"Mount Olympus?" one of the Cobraites hissed. "We have searched the mountain for the Prophet Cobra and searched in vain. He is not on Olympus."

"Then you ain't searched good enough," Treubuchet said, ungrammatically angry. "He's bound to do something dramatic like hide under Olympus Mons... or he might have a secret base in the Mariner Valley, but trust me, the whole Olympus Mons thing is much more Cobra's style. He'll hear about this here disaster and come to investigate on account of the blown power grid."

"But elder Trebuchet, then why did you have us spraypaint 'Clark was here!' across the great monument to the first settlers, Cobra, and distilled liquors?" he asked, confused.

"Eh, dunno. Cobra never could pass up the chance to play 'abandon ship' with Clark. Hey Ryxe, you drive. We'll ride shotgun... and every other kind of gun."

Rxke · 2004-10-02 04:37:40

Ok, I'll drive...

*pushes a button on the dashboard*

"Autopilot, drive us to Mount Olympus, while I have another drink, that dust made me thirsty. Pure, no ice, please."

*While the autopilot powers up the maxibar and the engine, in that sequence, Rxke glances at Trebuchet*

"Gotta love modern Martian tech, sometimes, bro!"

*The convoy erratically starts making its way towards Mount Olympus, zig-zagging wildly. Obviously the autopilot was programmed to carefully imitate the driving behaviour of Cobraites in the good ol' days...

Palomar · 2004-10-02 12:00:38

*Hmmmmm. Well, I guess that wasn't Agent S. ::shrugs::

(First trenchcoat I've seen on Mars!)

I wonder if ol' Agent S will show up...

Wow, what with all the sugar available on Mars apparently (alcohol), I think I'll indulge my favorite taste treats and open a bakery.

Hostess Suzy-Qs. ::drool:: Must have a Hostess Suzy-Q!! It's been so long. :*(

Yep, that's what I'll do: Bakery boutique by day, fiend hunter by night.

That avatar. New, but still hideous. Further proof of their "morphing." But into what? All that hissing and double-talk; smiling and friendly one minute, growling and hostile the next. We've got a genuine Jekyll/Hyde situation here...and Hyde's winning out I fear.

I hope Agent S arrives soon!

Cobra Commander · 2004-10-04 05:56:59

“By the authority granted me by the Most High I pronounce it done,” The Prophet spoke, his voice reverberating through the stone cathedral. “May this union be blessed and productive. Now go, multiply,” and as the newly married couple rushed from the cathedral to fulfill the First Commandment to bring life to Mars, the Prophet led the throng of guests in a toast to happiness, healthy offspring, and crushing the aggression of heathens beneath the iron heel of righteousness and truth. Then another toast as a redundant backup, long customary in all things on the barren red planet.

“A convoy approaches,” one of the priests did whisper to the Prophet, who quickly but not too conspicuously made his way to the observation post high on the mountain. From there, through grainy optics of Martian silica the Prophet did watch as a convoy zigged and zagged across the land, moving in the general direction of Olympus, narrowly avoiding collisions with boulders and each other. “Interesting,” the Prophet muttered, “I’ve not seen such erratic driving in a long time. A long time.” The priests argued for sending troops to meet them and slaughter them if they proved false, for the weaving could be the result of the faithful being filled with the joy of the Most High, or a clever trick of the sort they’d seen many times before. After a moment’s thought and a donut the Prophet finally proclaimed “Send the robots, see what they want.” And so it was done, and the Prophet turned his attention back to the donuts sent by a missionary deep within one of the larger cities, for they were really quite good, except those with the nuts embedded in their frosting, which were fed to the goats to plump them for roasting.

Rxke · 2004-10-04 06:16:55

Uh-Oh... AAAAAAAARGH!!!!

*Rxke's snake-eyes dilate wildly*

ROBOTS AHEAD! WE'RE TOAST!

*Rxke, in a wild panic, fumbles to enter the emergency self-destruct code, but at the last moment hesitates before pressing enter*

Say... That's weird... We should've been lasered to a gazillion tiny bits immediately after we came into their view, those robots never take hostages...
Maybe Cobra recognized us for what we are!

*The convoy abruptly, screechingly comes to a halt, some rovers colliding into eachother, as usual...

Cobra Commander · 2004-10-04 07:08:43

Lo, the robots did greet the pilgrims, “identify yourselves, you have twenty seconds to comply,” and large arms bristling with weapons of all sorts locked into firing position, and the pilgrims did exit their rovers and explain themselves to the robot emissaries of the Prophet, who stared at them with cold unfeeling eyes, transmitting the encounter deep into Olympus where the Prophet and the high priests, or drunken priests rather, did watch with interest.

“Robot,” the Prophet did speak into the microphone, “lead them into the east cavern. Keep your weapons ready in case they twitch.” And the robots did bellow the command to the pilgrims “Follow unit five, you have twenty seconds to comply.” And the pilgrims rushed into their rovers and followed close behind the robot with the Fifth Commandment embossed upon its back, though the robot walked intentionally slowly none dared pass after the first impatient leadfoot found his rover ventilated and burning in the thin Martian air, at least until the on board Oxygen had been exhausted. And they trudged on into the night in the shadow of the mountain under the watchful eyes of large gun-toting droids.

clark · 2004-10-07 08:42:35

Journal entry,

I have found it. Through a barren plain, beyond the endless canyon, beneath the distant horizon, it waited. On a rock-hewn pedestal carved by wind and time, dressed in the blackest marble, the lettering glowed with an internal phosphorescent blue light. When I touched it with trembling hands, it spoke in a silver tongue in musical cadence. The voice was human, but the rhythm utterly alien:

Miktar be-antrill seguva,
Miktar be-antrill shevunda.

The voice faded with the light of the stone tablet. When I repeated the words though, I saw something far greater than anything anyone had ever hoped for...

Cobra Commander · 2004-10-07 13:38:47

Lo, the Prophet did watch as the convoy of pilgrims passed by, bound for Olympus, led by robot escort to the Shrine of the Prophet at the base of the mountain. None shall pass further, deep into the mountain where the faithful prepare, the robots shall see that it is so. The pilgrims gave the Prophet only a passing glance as he passed by them, headed back whence they had come, accompanied by thirteen apostles and four robots, all dressed in the manner of poor Cobraite missionaries scavenging the wastelands as a result of discrimination at the hands of the supposedly “tolerant” and “open minded” oligarchs of the Martian Republic, who it is said drink more heavily than the Cobraites, but of wickedness. Their ragged black cloaks fluttered in the wind and the sun reflected dully from their scuffed blackened steel helmets, and they walked on to see what had become of the world firsthand before at last fulfilling the First Commandment. There was much to see, and one hundred obelisks to activate, holy work best not left to robots as the Most High finds automation somewhat undramatic. And they did look away from the convoy, ignoring the snake-like eyes staring back from within a battered rover at the front of the line, and they walked on toward destiny and likely a mildly disturbed hermit or two, deep in the Martian wilderness.

Palomar · 2004-10-07 14:13:03

::drumming fingers on table::

<glance at wristwatch>

Well, I guess Agent S decided not to show up.

Marsians sure are heavy drinkers. :-\

My bakery won't go far if I don't incorporate liquor into some of the products. :hm: Let's see: I could make rum-balls, rum cake, whiskey sourdough bread, what else? :hm:

<sigh>

Maybe could offer spiked eggnog. Cold, chilled, spicy.

Most people don't like fruitcake but my mother's recipe beats them all...and if I put vodka in the batter they'd sell hand-over-fist then, I bet.

::thinking, thinking::

:edit: Hey. I'm the only sober person on Mars. If I can get them drunk enough and keep them drunk enough...

Rxke · 2004-10-08 03:53:37

Treb, snap out of it!

*Since the first glance of the robots, Trebuchet has gone into some form of cataconic state, either from fear or religious fervor, hard to say... Good thing he has an ID-tag tattood on his arm, or the identification by the robots might've gone a little bit awry.

Trebuchet sometimes utters weird words... Without opening or moving his mouth... "Miktar be-antrill seguva, Miktar be-antrill shevunda"

An interplanetary Google^2 search throws up a blank... Troubling, to say the least. Has Trebuchet gone crazy, or are his dental filling picking up some scrambled messages?*

Treb, I said snap out of it! We're at the most sacred of places, Hatdammit!

Cobra Commander · 2004-10-08 08:18:03

The Prophet and the apostles passed amongst the throng of people of the stricken settlement, all seeking the return of light, water, and new air that smells not of metal and saturated filters, and they did appease the woes of the people with the word of the Prophet and distilled spirits, and the robots did do the bidding of the Prophet to restore light and the means of life, and the people did pass into sleep in the embrace of the spirits.

For three days did the apostles and robots labor, and the Prophet did minister unto the people of great things to come, and on the third day the interior lighting did shine once more, and the air did smell of 'artificial meadow scent number five', the stench of steel and plastic banished. The people overlooked the low water pressure for they had other means of quenching their thirst, and it was good. The Prophet did say unto them "rejoice, for the damage done unto your dwelling has been repaired, and greater things are yet to come, fare thee well and remember what you have seen." The Prophet then placed his hand upon the obelisk, once a center marker of a Euthenian settlement but long since seized by less naive folk, and the obelisk did emit a glow and a beep, and then was again dead stone. Amidst great gratitude the Prophet did lead the apostles out into the wilderness, and they did look longing back at the colonial women who had shown some interest, though the Prophet declared that they were yet in the grip of the spirits and such was prohibited by lesser decree.

Cobra Commander · 2004-11-03 09:49:39

"Take heed, ye people of Mars, for the Prophet doth speak. The heathen Republic hath nearly emerged from the darkness of uncertainty and the bringer of death and mayhem hath defeated the servant of the Yu Knights on the field of heathen opinion and fluttering paper. Take solace, my brethren, for though we shall soon face unrest and great tribulation, we shall emerge triumphant when the ruin of the heathen falsehoods and factions falls around us in ash leaving the promise of a better day. Know that while all is not well, hope endures and by the grace of the Most High and the ineptitude and misconceptions of the Martian electorate we shall have our day. Drink to the victory of the Party of the stinking Terran behemoth, for they pave the path to the downfall of themselves, the scatterring of the Party of the Jackass to the four winds, and at long last our emergence from hiding to bring salvation unto our people and all who would accept the word of the Prophet."

Rxke · 2004-11-03 14:30:52

Sigh...

The Prophet, blessed be His name, is getting old.
He's starting to have flashbacks from the lead-in to the Big Cataclysm, waaay back on the Ole Earth.

Gotta give it to Him though: those were the days!

Palomar · 2005-02-02 08:04:13

Dear Diary:

I and my rabbits have been vindicated and claim victory. The journals of "Interesting MOC Pictures" -- dated February 2, 2005 (THEMIS "Art Images") -- are proof thereof.

Lord Vlork and his rabbit-hating minions will be vanquished from Mars.

Cobra Commander · 2005-02-02 08:22:01

"I'm not listening, not listening" the Prophet declared, hands cupped over ears as the High Priests explained again the latest orbital photos of vast monuments to the rabbits.

"This blasphemy cannot be ignored," one of the Priests bellowed, "these Rabbish subsersives must be dealt with before the entire planet is consumed by these..." his face grew sour, "bunnies."

"You drink too much, you know that?" the Prophet retorted amidst gasps of shock.

"But... the words of the Most High command--"

"Who's the one with a direct line to the Almighty?" The Prophet glared until the Priests nodded to him in unison, then raked a hand across his brow in frustration. "Okay then. Get out there, take some of the robots, and expose this fraud. Give the rabbits big devil teeth and horns, whatever it takes. If you actually see a rabbit, eat it."

The Priests nodded and began filing out of the dark meeting hall before the Prophet shouted "And take those rabbit pictures down! Right now. I don't want so see so much as a Playboy bunny anywhere in this temple, clear?" And with that the Priests, minions and robots went about their appointed tasks, so was it commanded so shall it be done.

Palomar · 2005-02-02 08:42:50

Dear Diary:

A day of celebration has been planned forthwith. Readings for children of The Velveteen Rabbit, Peter Cottontail and other favorite rabbit-themed stories -- along with a 72-hour marathon of Bugs Bunny cartoons -- will commence tomorrow at Mars Solrise. Carrot cakes are being baked and will be distributed generously to all celebrants.

We are receiving reports that Lord Vlork and his minions have reacted in a frenzied, violent manner.

Let them squirm. We rejoice.

Cobra Commander · 2005-02-02 12:56:50

"Are the caravans ready to depart?" the Prophet asked and was answered with a mixed chorus of "Hoo-ah", "Jawhol", "Hai" and "f**kin' a".

"Then we go forth to join the masses in their rabbit festival! Beer and barbecued bunny for all!" And with that they boarded their rovers, painted like armadillos and other out of place things, and rode into the desert with vast stores of alcohol and munchable rabbits.

Trebuchet · 2005-02-02 20:50:58

Trebuchet was conflicted.

On the one hand, he had no love for bunnies. On the other hand, he wasn't the type to pass up the opportunity to make a quick buck. So he probably had the only bar on Mars - heck, the only bar in the solar system - where an audio book recording of "Watership Down" was playing, along with carrot cake, rabbit stew, and easter eggs to go with a daylong Happy Hour.

Yes, things were all right in the TempleBar, from the happy colonists listening to the recording to the cultists of Mad Lord Vlork sacrificing rabbits in the back.

PurduesUSAFguy · 2005-02-03 00:20:55

</out of character>

....best thread ever....

Palomar · 2005-02-03 06:17:20

Dear Diary:

It's the old "and we'll huff and we'll puff and we'll blow your house down" chatter coming from Lord Vlork and his minions.

We know the drill: They go on the attack with plenty of booze, only to pass out before the attack can actually commence. And they can hardly fight with intense hangovers or while "sleeping it off."

Meanwhile, a Temple to the Rabbit is being drawn up and will be built. The Fates have determined that, as cats were revered and honored in ancient Egypt, so too will rabbits be revered and honored on Mars.

There is a reason the ancients -- in their unbounded wisdom -- gave the humble rabbit a place of honor among the stars themselves: The constellation of Lepus.

The merriment and feasting have begun!

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#185 2004-10-04 06:16:55

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#187 2004-10-07 08:42:35

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#188 2004-10-07 13:38:47

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#189 2004-10-07 14:13:03

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#190 2004-10-08 03:53:37

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#191 2004-10-08 08:18:03

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#192 2004-11-03 09:49:39

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#193 2004-11-03 14:30:52

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#194 2005-02-02 08:04:13

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#196 2005-02-02 08:42:50

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