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Bigger projects? Hydropnics and Prison soon after that.
As for our room - Try placing some plant pots first, and then we might start thinking about sculptures depicting perfect kommunism. I believe blobra could improve her artistic skill fastest.
I vote for Hydroponics. But priority to build is King Kalin Kbunker of course. I still should research the grimoire - but it shouldn't take much time.
Also
Never tried that, but what's the point anyway? Grow fuel to sustain growing fuel?
What we can do is to use hydro room as a greenhouse. Hydroponics basins require a ton of steel to build and a fuckton of power to keep those crops going. HOWEVER, a sun lamp placed in the greenhouse allows to grow stuff without basins.
You can grow a larger variety of plants this way, coz you can't grow everything in basins. No basisns mean much slower growing progress, though.
And all the men and women merely codexers;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And Grimwulf in his time plays many parts,
His head houses five beings. At first the Lacgirl,
Mewling and puking in Blobra’s tentacles;
And then the whining Greenbutt, with his mumbling
And ugly green face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to his death. And then the Servant,
Urging to build one thousand turrets,
Made to his KKK's defense. Then comes Azira,
Full of anal candles, and bearded like the pard,
Torturous doctor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble of alcohol and brewing
Even in the sarcophagys' mouth. And then Grimwulf himself,
In fair round belly with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and murderous fury;
And so he plays his part. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second incarnation of Gregory Slavmen;
Sans teeth, sans brain, sans taste, sans everything,
but a carrot for nose - he's become one with Snowman.
from "As you butcher it" by renowned Rimworldian playwright Shilliam Whalesperm
I was wondering if you plan to keep those sandbags. Aren't they, well, useless at this point?
How can a ton of bags be useless?
We can take cover behind the buildings, or even inside them. Jumping over the bags every time I'm going outside is problematic.
Kalin's protege doesn't have a say in major security decisions. Now get out before I lose my shit.
A bit later.
Oh, look! He finally woke up! GOOD FUCKING MORNING, PRINCESS SUNSHINE!
My construction site isn't cleared. Why?
Because FUCK YOU - how's that for a reason?
Should have figured you're too dumb and lazy for such a task. I'll find some help.
Meanwhile.
How did you end up working for Umbra PMC anyway?
It's a long story.
I got time.
*sigh* Look. Either kill me, or let me go. There is no other option.
I can think of some. Tortures, harvesting for organs, selling into slavery, freezing you as emergency meat...
Raping you tastefully all day, every day.
*throwing an angry glance at The Cook*
Jejeje, it's a joke. Caparrones?
No. No caparrones. And no more talking.
Meanwhile.
Look at me. I'm not even mad.
Weird. I would be ashamed of myself in your shoes. System-class builder my ass.
Why? Not my fault these blocks are so slippery.
The blocks are fine, dumbass. You are not.
I'll have you know, it FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKING PISSES ME OFF!!! MOTHERFUCKER!!
Want a berry?
GIB ME *grabs berries*
Might be poisonous, but eh.
Told our local El Mariachi to aid Kalin with clearing mah construction site.
He said "ay ay ay ay something-something"
PMC guy is too damn stubborn. I wonder if Cheetah can crack this nut.
Lizzurd is quite productive. KKK needs more Lizzurds.
If only we had more people, I could send useless men like Kalin on expeditions.
Maybe one day.
Later that evening.
Your Kolony isn't working, Senor Kommissar.
Say WHAT?!
There is simply too much work. Camaradas need rest. They need to have fun.
Work IS fun!!
How about we throw a party? We shall sing, dance and rub each other with hot sponges.
I can throw a party all right. Just give me a flaming bolt, a deer, and a forest. I can guarantee you'll get a full night of pure fun.
Oooh, sounds intriguing.
Hours later.
How was it like in the training camp?
It... wasn't great.
Tell me.
They called me Boot. Short for "Bootlicker".
Jejeje
Shut up, Cook.
But then I got gud. Months later, they called me Boot because I kicked major ass with my boot.
I bet they mocked you a lot for that pink hair and red beard.
I lost a bet and could't pay it. The officer demanded I dye my hair. And so I did.
Your battle brothers don't seem very nice.
*shrugs* They can be rough, but fair.
Then why are you ashamed?
I am not ashamed of anything.
But you are.
...
A proud soldier wouldn't hide the reason behind enlisting in the army. Money? Shared ideals? Bloodlust? Comradery? Whatever it is, there is no reason to hide it. Unless you were forced to join the Company..?
...
Thought as much. You had no choice. So, what was it? They bought you from slave traders? Captured you prisoner?
... Where do I start? I grew up as a nomad child. Performed for the travelling circus. After a particularly nasty accident, I developed a fear of fire.
I earned good money working for that circus, so I bought myself a ticket to a better planet. My ship crashed on this Rimworld while I was in cryptosleep.
Some of us are born here, others are brought by circumstances or coincidence. No one comes to this planet by his own will.
Yeah... Many years I was living on my own in a forest shack. Good, calm life. The forest provided. Had to fend off poachers occasionally, but that's it.
Sounds good. What happened then?
A raving madman came to my forest once. He was screaming and yelling something... completely inane! Something about a deer legion wiping off humankind, I don't even...
Huh.
And he was shooting flaming bolts at every deer he saw! I wanted to shoot him myself at first, but... *sigh* The flames...
Are you sure it wasn't Grimwulf? He has a thing for deers and flaming bolts himself.
I am sure. That one was completely insane. Talked gibberish, always yelling. In any case, I had to flee from my beloved forest. It was set on fire soon enough.
Where did you go from there?
Stumbled upon a small camp. Thought it was abandoned, came closer. Long story short, they ambushed me and captured prisoner. They took me to another continent, where a charismatic recruiting officer listened to my story.
What was his name?
Can't remember. That was the only time I've seen him. Anyway, he told me that this whole planet is full of savage madmen, brutal thugs, and mercantile slave traders. And you know what, he was right. Didn't take long to recruit me, naturally.
Classic brainwashing.
Go on.
My training has begun. Day one - I learn to eat fast. Like, REALLY fast.
Day 60 - I pass my first drill and throw a party.
Day 180 - I finish my training and become a private.
*pauses to make conclusions about Boot*
Did you really believe Umbra Company had any kind of ideals, besides power and profit?
...
You just didn't want to be a prisoner, right?
... Yeah.
Then don't. *takes off the shackles from Boot*
Wh-- what are you doing?
You are free to go.
Go where? They will be searching for me out of principle. There is no escaping or surviving Umbra death squads.
*shrugs* You are free to stay.
...
I have wasted too much time on you, Freddie. Way more than you deserve. So either get out of here, or take a mop and start cleaning this place.
... Call me Boot.
You will find a spare bed in the barracks.
Your main task will be keeping KKK clean.
May I have a weapon? Don't want to be useless in battle.
Sure. But keep in mind, if you so much as think of using it against us - I will put a knife in your eyesocket. Deep inside.
Got it, ma'am.
Good. I believe the only ranged weapon left in KKK is Grimwulf's old arbalest.
No firearms?
No ammunition. Oh, and do something about your beard and hair, for the love of-- whatever you believe in!
On it, ma'am.
Starting from this day, you are the janitor of KKK. Work hard, prove yourself worthy, and earn your place among komrades.
Sleep? Have you been in the new barracks, Kommissar?
I built them, you moron.
Then you should you know it's impossible to sleep there. *walks away*
Ungrateful bastard.
Sooo, why are we here?
*falls on the ground* Gotta think.
About what?
KKK's population is growing, but most of my men are worthless.
This isn't true. Blobra is pretty handy - nobody can kill stuff like she does.
Awright, Blobra can stay.
Hummm, Cheetah is your lover, Kommissar Grim Wolf.
So?
She has smarts. No offense, but smarts is not among your strong sides.
*grumbles* Awright, she might be somewhat useful at times. But that's it.
Lizzurd is very productive. Unlike most of you.
Yeah, this guy.
The Cook is... well... He cooks, right?
I'll throw him in the front lines next time we get attacked.
Ahh, your famous distractionstrategy.
It's your own goddamn fault you got yourself killed, Greenballs!
KKK is growing strong. Hell, I think we managed to recruit a normal person for once!
Eh?
Boot. He is a soldier, and a decent man to add.
Indeed.
Everyone is more or less tolerable, I guess. Except Kalin.
*sigh*
Fucking Kalin.
*passing by* Kek. No, no. Yes? Ke ke ke ke. No.
Ohmmm, it's going to be tough for a normal person to live in KKK.
Hm? I don't remember my life in KKK being tough.
Hooooooommmmmmmmm
Choose your words very carefully, Ryan.
Shut it, both of you. *returns to the bedroom*
*smiles* There you are.
Gotta sleep.
Hey. Grimmie. Appreciate the plant pot, but you forgot the roses...
I ain't no gardener, woman! Plant dem roses yerself!
*chuckles* Most romantic relationships ever.
DAY 16
*jumps on his bed* FIVE AM! *does his bed lightning-fast*
*wakes up from the the noise* What DA FAK is wrong with you?!
Nothing. I must prove myself. *eats his awful breakfast just as fast and starts working*
A bit later.
*hare-hating GURGLE*
My God, you're ugly...
*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK*
WH-- You can understand human language?!
*insulted popping*
SORRY! So sorry. I meant it as a compliment!
*crawls outside, gurgling the worst gurgles all the way*
Dammit.
*enter the room*
Morning, komrades!
Fuck off, new guy.
Watch your culata, amigo. Jejejeje
*both enter the fridge*
... Nice.
One hour later.
Morning.
Morning.
Why is everybody so fucking polite?!
My mom told me that people should be nice to each other...
Your mom was stupid. Ma dad told me that vibro knife is the only way to talk to other people. *walks away swearing*
Tell me about your parents, Lizzurd. I want to know more.
Well... Can't remember my dad. Dunno if we even met each other.
What was your mom like?
Nutcase, kek. Nothing else to say, really. I was raised by my mentor, not my parents.
Meanwhile.
This room is... clean.
Hrmpf. No blood, no dirt, no vomit. Am I still in KKK?
*RUNS into the dining room* SIR, GOOD MORNING, SIR!! *resumes obsessive cleaning mode*
Look at him, Spaniard! Working his ass off for the glory of Kommunism! And what have YOU done today?
Nothing yet. Fiesta!
*finishes cleaning the room, moves to the next one*
Back in the Old Country fiesta was considered a punishable offense.
Senor Kommissar, there is ZERO FUN in KKK. We can't go on like that.
Una propuesta, if I may?
Analpropo-- what??
A proposition! One word: poker.
Poker..? GWAHAHAHAHAH HA HA, do you even realize you're talkin' to INTERGALACTIC POKER CHAMPION OF ALL TIMES?!
Grim. Wait, Grim! I know your memory of the days long past is a bit fuzzy, but-- CAN WE TALK IT OVER?
Bring it on, Senor Kommissar. I will make you weep like a sissy French girl.
I got enough limestone blocks for the table and a bunch of chairs.
Once I'm done setting dis shit up, it's you and me, Cook.
Jejeje. Anytime, Senor Kommissar. Anytime.
I will fuck you up.
*leans towards Grimwulf and whispers in his ear* You don't have what it takes to handle my gorgeous body.
HEY! *pushes The Cook away with force* NO HOMO!
No homo. Just cookin'.
LIZZURD!!
What?
WORK!!!
B-but I am wor--
NO BUTTS!! NO HOMO!!
A bit later.
Goddamit, Kalin! Why is my greenhouse so full of shit?! Look at all those trees and bushes!
Workin' on it, fucking tyrant! Despite being a CITIZEN!!
That is no way for CITIZEN to work! What will the plebs say? You are supposed to be the exemplary kommunist!
Sorry if I interrupted anything. Brought more blocks for the greenhouse.
Perfect timing, Lizzurd. See, Kalin? THAT's how you get a bonus!
A bonus?
FORGET IT, YOU BASTERD - ALL YOUR BONASES IS MINE!!!
Okaaay...
Psst.
Mm?
*whispers* Wait for the signal. Keyword is "murder". Then meet me you know where. Bring 25 granite blocks with you.
*nods*
HEY! NO HISSING!!
We were just sharing berries, Kommissar.
Hmrpf. No homo?
No homo.
That whole greenhouse idea is just bad.
Growing something - anything - here is an impossible task. No way I can provide enough fuel for two generators.
But what if... Got an idea, methinks. Have to reflect on it a bit more.
Meanwhile, staff report.
Lizzurd is lookin' nervous lately.
For literally no reason at all. The boy is too jumpy for a true kommunist.
Che is okay, as usual. The Cook is cooking something (hopefully) edible.
Me - I'm doing all the major work around here. Also trying to make Kalin do the same.
To no avail.
Blobra is mind-raping the poor dog.
At least she's not mind-raping me.
I wonder if we still have any game to hunt around here..?
Later that morning.
*psshhhh* Hey, Snow Queen! Cheetah!
*psh* What do you want?
I will MURDER your tits! How about that?
Are you drunk?
MURDER, I say! MUR-DER! Over and out.
A bit later.
Boot, wasn't it?
Yes, sir!
Do you like it here in KKK?
...
It gets better. Trust me, I know. Let me tell you how it all began for me. Kodex Kommunistic Kolony, DAY 1 - crashlanding, amnesia and profuse vomiting, mechanoid ambush, my warg dies, Kalin gets shot, I'm shot and burned to near-death. Then both me and Kalin are being tortured by a fucking maniac Azira. When I regain my senses--
Meanwhile.
Tuk you a while.
Had to make sure nobody notices my absence.
We need a door and, most importantly, a quality doorlock!
Sooo..?
Think you can handle that?
I mean... I can try.
Then try HARDAR! Or I'll club ya.
One hour later.
*dissatisfied gurgle*
*romantic pop-pop*
*BARKS in approval*
*GURGLE*
*pop-pop-pop-pop*
This is the beauty filter. The numbers show the beautifulness of each square.
Wanna know what else is beautiful? Macallan 12.
It's not something you buy for yourself, coz it's much more expensive than similiar whiskey. Hell, I know places where Dewars 18 is cheaper than this stuff. Macallan is sumth you buy as a gift. And it's a gud gift, men.
Rest assured that gifted person will appreciate the gesture. He would never buy Macallan 12 for himself, but he knows perfectly well that Macallan is unique. Somewhat like a Jaguar - you would rather buy a BMW or Mercedes or smth completely Japanese, just because Jaguar costs WAY more than it should, but you KNOW that Jaguar has a certain something. Jaguar is something you buy BECAUSE YOU CAN, not because it's worth it.
Meanwhile.
Kain! The door is done.
MAH MAN! I knew you could do it! The keys?
Got 'em right here.
GOOD. Now that we know no random fucker will wander inside, let's make dis place more comfy. Clean it, Lizzurd. And do it gud.
*sigh*
*pshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh* Kodex Kommunistic Kolony? *the voice is very manly, brutish, bassist, but not confident - sounds almost like Hello Friend*
*psshhhhhh psh psh* Dis is KKK's FORLORN KOMMISSAR GRIMWALD WULFBANE THE UNMAKER OF LIBERULS speakin'. RECOGNIZE. Over.
I want to join you.
Wh-- ... What?
Can I join you?
*pshhh* What's your name?
Winnie Hartwig. But you can call me KRIVOL.
Hartwig..?
Umm, I saw a poster. Thought you need some help around here. Do you?
*pssshhhhh* No.
Hartwig... You must be Lizzurd's father.
Not father... Hi, mom.
SASHENKA!!!
... Mom?
You must be a fascinating woman, Krivol.
I'M COMING!!!
Hey hey HEY, do we REALLY need another worthless mouth to feed?
What do you suggest?
Emergency meat. Duh.
She is Lizzurd's mom. Lizzurd's... mom.
You said it yourself, didn't you? "KKK NEEDS MORE LIZZURDS". Be careful with what you wish for.
Cut the small talk! The greenhouse is done.
Not yet. Gotta roof dis shit.
Hommm, don't forget to clear the snow.
Right. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!!
*appears out of nowhere* YES, SIR!
I want you to EAT DAT SNOW rite now!
Can I simply... clear it?
Yes, you can. YES, YOU CAN! Don't let your dreams be dreams!
Yes, sir!
Later that day.
Dammit. DAMMIT!
Hue hue, you should run to your mommy now. Cry about unfair Kommissar and big bully Kalin forcing you to work.
My mom is CRAZY, Kalin! We MUST get rid of her! But not... well... not kill her.
I have but ONE question for ya.
Shoot.
Is she hot?
...
Let me put it this way: does she have a STURDY ass?
Kalin, please.
What?
She is insane. Literally. I bet she came here dressed in thongs.
Oh? So she IS HOT, eh? Man, hot wymin know how to HOOK ME UP!
Kek, no. Mom isn't... hot.
Meanwhile.
You must be mr... *coughs* Mrs. Hartwig?
Where is my Sasha??
Your son is currently working for Kodex Kommunistic Kolony.
GOOD LORD! He can't work! Sasha is too gentle, fragile!
Everyone here in KKK pulls his own weight. Still want to join? What can you do?
I know my way around a kitchen.
We have a cook already. The Cook, no less.
Give me a chance! You can't send me away! MY SON is here!
Tell me about yourself.
Shoggoths! If not for the Rebellion, I would still be together with Sasha!
Wait. Shoggoth rebellion? I though it happened hundreds, if not thousands, years ago. What does it have to do with YOU?
We were supervising a labor division that managed Shoggoth operations.
Somehow Krivol spawned with background (biography) that only generates for the Elder Things. She is a human, though. I checked.
No idea how it happened, never seen this before.
Wtf...
Supervising... Shoggoths?
Yes.
*sigh* You are insane, aren't you?
I just want to help you, good people. And my son. Where is my son? Oh, Lord - I hope he eats well.
Lizzurd is fine. Have you ever been in combat? Can you use weapons to defend yourself and those around you?
Of course. I survived the Shoggoth rebellion, remember?
...
So? I passed the test or what?
One last question. How exactly were you separated from you son?
He was taken away from me, while I was fighting Shoggoths.
Who would kidnap a worthless baby?
Sasha wasn't a baby back then!
No matter. So who was it?
I don't know! I've been looking for Sasha ever since!
And now both of you came here. What a coincidence.
LET ME SEE MY SON!!
*looking at Krivol, considering the possible consequences*
Fine. Welcome to KKK. Take whatever bed you like and move it to the barracks. That way.
THANK YOU, KIND WOMAN!
Me and SASHENKA. Together forever!
v
*looking at the mirror* What a mess! *does her hair*
When you sign up for KKK duty, be careful with what you wish for.