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Bakuda Quest! Or 'Problem Solving Through The Application Of Explosives!'
- Thread starter Gideon020
- Start date
EVA-Saiyajin
Connoisseur.
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2013
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- 12,606
[X]...a virtual model of a theoretical super-plague for your Biology Doctorate.
Gideon020
Writing a novel.
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2014
- Messages
- 1,529
[X]...that theoretical particle model for your Physics Doctorate.
Heheh, oh right, your Physics Doctorate. Kickass. Those 'practical' scientists like to say that physicists don't do anything practical, but you'll them with this! Especially that cheating fucker Clark! You know he copied your work last time, it's why you sit as far away as you can from him, but you can't exactly argue when he keeps volunteering to be your partner, and then goes on to prove what a grade-sucking leech he truly is.
You inhale and calm down, you have plenty of time to deal with Clark and soon you won't deal with him ever again, not with his marks and the way he's struggling with the course so far. Hell, other have been struggling but they've at least managed to get some decent marks. Clark? Clark is a sponge, a leech that does have anything to back up his ego, unlike you. You're a fucking genius, you're god-damned perfect and why not? You've shown that you can back your words with plenty of proof, that's why everyone pays attention to you.
The pancakes, as always, are delicious. You've spent a long time practicing and while you are willing to admit that you aren't perfect in every way, you know you're perfect in the ways that count.
Washing up the dishes, you wonder how that leech Clark said he was going to 'prove his superiority' to you, before putting it out of your mind and heading over to your computer.
Mom and Dad paid for a kick-ass rig when you moved into this apartment near the university, and it helped you put together some sweet virtual projects to hand in. It even has some reverse-engineered TinkerTech inside it, for maximum performance.
You boot the computer up and log in, before grimacing, "Ah fuck."
Where the hell did you put that file?
Roll 1d100, the best roll out of five will be used.
Heheh, oh right, your Physics Doctorate. Kickass. Those 'practical' scientists like to say that physicists don't do anything practical, but you'll them with this! Especially that cheating fucker Clark! You know he copied your work last time, it's why you sit as far away as you can from him, but you can't exactly argue when he keeps volunteering to be your partner, and then goes on to prove what a grade-sucking leech he truly is.
You inhale and calm down, you have plenty of time to deal with Clark and soon you won't deal with him ever again, not with his marks and the way he's struggling with the course so far. Hell, other have been struggling but they've at least managed to get some decent marks. Clark? Clark is a sponge, a leech that does have anything to back up his ego, unlike you. You're a fucking genius, you're god-damned perfect and why not? You've shown that you can back your words with plenty of proof, that's why everyone pays attention to you.
The pancakes, as always, are delicious. You've spent a long time practicing and while you are willing to admit that you aren't perfect in every way, you know you're perfect in the ways that count.
Washing up the dishes, you wonder how that leech Clark said he was going to 'prove his superiority' to you, before putting it out of your mind and heading over to your computer.
Mom and Dad paid for a kick-ass rig when you moved into this apartment near the university, and it helped you put together some sweet virtual projects to hand in. It even has some reverse-engineered TinkerTech inside it, for maximum performance.
You boot the computer up and log in, before grimacing, "Ah fuck."
Where the hell did you put that file?
Roll 1d100, the best roll out of five will be used.
Silversun17
Connoisseur.
- Joined
- May 4, 2013
- Messages
- 24,131
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 10, total 10[/blockquote]
clarke is going to have stolen our work isn't he?
clarke is going to have stolen our work isn't he?
TheOtherSandman
Well worn.
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2013
- Messages
- 7,764
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 11, total 11[/blockquote]
Selias
Well worn.
- Joined
- Mar 2, 2013
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- 7,067
Nah, we got an 86, and it was the best of five rolls.Silversun17 said:This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d100 : 10, total 10
clarke is going to have stolen our work isn't he?
Gideon020
Writing a novel.
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2014
- Messages
- 1,529
[X]Roll: 86
Your fingers dance across the keyboard as you click your way to the folder you stored your project in. Perfect, it's all here and you smile as you open the file to check it.
Looks like that all-nighter you pulled let you practically finish the entire thing as you tap in a few extra commands and add some final details and...done! You quickly save and download the file onto a portable hard-drive before checking your emails.
Ooh, you got invited to that physics seminar at MIT! Everyone studying for the Doctorate has been fighting for the chance to go. Just goes to show that once again, people should be paying attention to you because you are that fucking good. Hmm, looks like you can fit it in, Uncle Vlad will be understanding, after all he's been the one pushing your parents into supporting this! You quickly write up and send a quick email explaining why you can't make it to his birthday.
Grabbing your bag with your books, a quick lunch and your project essay, jacket and scarf because it is fucking freezing out there, you head out into the snowy streets of Ithaca, New York. It's a light powder today, and the weather report says it should stay mild for the rest of the week. Good, because you do not need any hassles before you make your presentation. First thing to do is to reach your bus to the University.
Turning the corner, you spot the bus turning around it's corner as well. You need to hurry before you miss it!
Roll 1d100, best roll out of three!
Your fingers dance across the keyboard as you click your way to the folder you stored your project in. Perfect, it's all here and you smile as you open the file to check it.
Looks like that all-nighter you pulled let you practically finish the entire thing as you tap in a few extra commands and add some final details and...done! You quickly save and download the file onto a portable hard-drive before checking your emails.
Ooh, you got invited to that physics seminar at MIT! Everyone studying for the Doctorate has been fighting for the chance to go. Just goes to show that once again, people should be paying attention to you because you are that fucking good. Hmm, looks like you can fit it in, Uncle Vlad will be understanding, after all he's been the one pushing your parents into supporting this! You quickly write up and send a quick email explaining why you can't make it to his birthday.
Grabbing your bag with your books, a quick lunch and your project essay, jacket and scarf because it is fucking freezing out there, you head out into the snowy streets of Ithaca, New York. It's a light powder today, and the weather report says it should stay mild for the rest of the week. Good, because you do not need any hassles before you make your presentation. First thing to do is to reach your bus to the University.
Turning the corner, you spot the bus turning around it's corner as well. You need to hurry before you miss it!
Roll 1d100, best roll out of three!
TheOtherSandman
Well worn.
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2013
- Messages
- 7,764
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 85, total 85[/blockquote]
Silversun17
Connoisseur.
- Joined
- May 4, 2013
- Messages
- 24,131
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 13, total 13[/blockquote]
TheOtherSandman
Well worn.
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2013
- Messages
- 7,764
Woot.
Gideon020
Writing a novel.
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2014
- Messages
- 1,529
[X]Roll: 85
You coil your legs and sprint down the road, weaving through the people walking down the street as the bus makes its way down the road, while you go all out, shifting your feet to slide across a patch of ice like a skater before shifting back into a sprint. You spot the bus approaching and pour on the speed, hearing a car horn and before anyone can try to stop you, you've already hopped into the air, landing on the hood of the car as it brakes to a stop, slide across, and land into your sprint.
The bus is halfway to the bus-stop but you're nearly there, and there is no way you're going to miss the bu-
Someone trips and they're right in your path, but by some freak miracle, or more likely because you're that damn good, you turn nearly crashing into the guy into an expert flip that neatly avoids his friends, landing so smoothly into your run that you actually think you hear some kind of stadium applause for your landing. Ignoring it you continue your sprint for the bus, reaching the stop just as the last passenger gets on board.
With a final surge of effort, you leap, roll up the steps, slap a couple of dollar bills into the money receptacle and finish by tumbling into a seat. This time you really do get applause and some kids even cheer you for your perfect entry.
Fuck yeah, you are fucking perfect.
Settling into your seat, you take out your notes and essay, going over them to make sure you didn't make any mistakes. Which you haven't, proving yet again that you are perfect. Even so, you hope this project is enough to impress Doctor Parnell. That old woman has the sharpest eyes for any kind of flaw, and while she may be fair, she's also one tough old bitch. And it's because of that you have some grudging respect for her.
But there is no way she can give a mere passing mark to your project. Especially when it involves this kind of high-energy particle physics. You finish reading through your notes and nod to yourself. Perfect as always.
As you press the button upon seeing your stop come up, you feel a spring in your step and look up to see the sun shining.
Today is going to be perfect.
And then you bump into Lee Clarke, the one person in your classes that you, of all people, can say without hyperbole is the most pathetic piece of white-trash in existence. His pasty-white face lights up behind those thick stereotypical nerd glasses, "Alice! Hey, great to see you. Listen, I was wondering if you could help me out with something."
And then his greasy hands, how the fuck can they be so greasy when he's some kind of lactose-intolerant vegetarian, grab yours. ICK! EwewewewewewewewewewewewewewEWWW!
Stay calm, you're Alice Williams, you're perfect in every way, and perfection means withstanding this disgusting Leech.
[]"Let me guess, you want me to finish whatever pathetic model you came up with."
[]"I'm going to say this only once 'Leech' Clarke. Leave me the fuck alone."
[]Fuck it, he's going to hound you until you give in. Just get it over with and show him your perfection.
[]Punch him! He's greasy and gross and...punch him! PUNCH HIM NOW!
[]Write In:
You coil your legs and sprint down the road, weaving through the people walking down the street as the bus makes its way down the road, while you go all out, shifting your feet to slide across a patch of ice like a skater before shifting back into a sprint. You spot the bus approaching and pour on the speed, hearing a car horn and before anyone can try to stop you, you've already hopped into the air, landing on the hood of the car as it brakes to a stop, slide across, and land into your sprint.
The bus is halfway to the bus-stop but you're nearly there, and there is no way you're going to miss the bu-
Someone trips and they're right in your path, but by some freak miracle, or more likely because you're that damn good, you turn nearly crashing into the guy into an expert flip that neatly avoids his friends, landing so smoothly into your run that you actually think you hear some kind of stadium applause for your landing. Ignoring it you continue your sprint for the bus, reaching the stop just as the last passenger gets on board.
With a final surge of effort, you leap, roll up the steps, slap a couple of dollar bills into the money receptacle and finish by tumbling into a seat. This time you really do get applause and some kids even cheer you for your perfect entry.
Fuck yeah, you are fucking perfect.
Settling into your seat, you take out your notes and essay, going over them to make sure you didn't make any mistakes. Which you haven't, proving yet again that you are perfect. Even so, you hope this project is enough to impress Doctor Parnell. That old woman has the sharpest eyes for any kind of flaw, and while she may be fair, she's also one tough old bitch. And it's because of that you have some grudging respect for her.
But there is no way she can give a mere passing mark to your project. Especially when it involves this kind of high-energy particle physics. You finish reading through your notes and nod to yourself. Perfect as always.
As you press the button upon seeing your stop come up, you feel a spring in your step and look up to see the sun shining.
Today is going to be perfect.
And then you bump into Lee Clarke, the one person in your classes that you, of all people, can say without hyperbole is the most pathetic piece of white-trash in existence. His pasty-white face lights up behind those thick stereotypical nerd glasses, "Alice! Hey, great to see you. Listen, I was wondering if you could help me out with something."
And then his greasy hands, how the fuck can they be so greasy when he's some kind of lactose-intolerant vegetarian, grab yours. ICK! EwewewewewewewewewewewewewewEWWW!
Stay calm, you're Alice Williams, you're perfect in every way, and perfection means withstanding this disgusting Leech.
[]"Let me guess, you want me to finish whatever pathetic model you came up with."
[]"I'm going to say this only once 'Leech' Clarke. Leave me the fuck alone."
[]Fuck it, he's going to hound you until you give in. Just get it over with and show him your perfection.
[]Punch him! He's greasy and gross and...punch him! PUNCH HIM NOW!
[]Write In:
Silversun17
Connoisseur.
- Joined
- May 4, 2013
- Messages
- 24,131
[X] Deep breath. "Clarke I'm in a bit of a rush, so I'll talk to you later." then leave.
TheOtherSandman
Well worn.
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2013
- Messages
- 7,764
[X]"Let me guess, you want me to finish whatever pathetic model you came up with."
fitzgerald
Experienced.
- Joined
- Feb 19, 2013
- Messages
- 3,361
[X]"Let me guess, you want me to finish whatever pathetic model you came up with."
Gideon020
Writing a novel.
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2014
- Messages
- 1,529
[X]"Let me guess, you want me to finish whatever pathetic model you came up with."
Of course that's what he wants. It's why he's called 'Leech', because latches on and sucks the life out of you. You've always avoided working with him for group assignments and you've seen the effect he has on others. They get listless, drained, beaten down, all because of his relentless barrage of stupid, idiotic questions and inept workmanship. Lee 'Leech' Clarke, the worst example of humanity, and proof that sometimes, perfect people like you have to be shown what kind of lows they could fall to.
"Well..." He rubs the back of his head and only your perfect calm keeps your lip from curling into a sneer as he answers, "Yeah, I kinda do. Could you come with me to the computer lab? I just need someone to give it a once-over and make sure it's okay to present."
You snort, "Okay to present... Why you haven't taken the hint from Parnell and the other instructors and dropped out, I have no idea." You stride past him, "Which computer lab?"
"Lab 6-D." He sidles behind you, and way too close to your butt for comfort, requiring you to glare at him in case he tries anything funny. He smiles at you, like he's some kind innocent little mouse. He's vermin all right, but not a mouse, more like a rat. And that's on a good day. Fucking Leech.
Lab 6-D is practically on the other side of the campus from your classroom, which is pretty suspicious now that you think about it, but there is no way Clarke would be able to take advantage of you, so long as you keep your guard up. You shift to let him enter the computer lab first, a quick glance at your watch telling you that the class will be starting in thirty minutes. This had better not take too long, but even if Clarke wanted to make you late, that didn't matter; that stoner Kronkite always came in baked and three hours late and he still got some pretty fucking good marks.
Whatever, not like Clarke can do anything to you, so you wait for him to show you whatever piece of shit he has...ready...oh my god...
"This is fucking shit! Even for you!" You cry out as you shove him out of his seat, slipping your bag over the side of the chair as your fingers dance over the keyboard and you begin fixing this problem. As you type, rapidly calculating the equations in your head because this is fucking child's play, you realise that you can't hear Clarke's nasal mouth-breathing. Ugh, good, that shit is so fucking...
Wait...why can't you hear his breathing? He was right next to you!
Roll 1d100! Best Roll out of three!
Of course that's what he wants. It's why he's called 'Leech', because latches on and sucks the life out of you. You've always avoided working with him for group assignments and you've seen the effect he has on others. They get listless, drained, beaten down, all because of his relentless barrage of stupid, idiotic questions and inept workmanship. Lee 'Leech' Clarke, the worst example of humanity, and proof that sometimes, perfect people like you have to be shown what kind of lows they could fall to.
"Well..." He rubs the back of his head and only your perfect calm keeps your lip from curling into a sneer as he answers, "Yeah, I kinda do. Could you come with me to the computer lab? I just need someone to give it a once-over and make sure it's okay to present."
You snort, "Okay to present... Why you haven't taken the hint from Parnell and the other instructors and dropped out, I have no idea." You stride past him, "Which computer lab?"
"Lab 6-D." He sidles behind you, and way too close to your butt for comfort, requiring you to glare at him in case he tries anything funny. He smiles at you, like he's some kind innocent little mouse. He's vermin all right, but not a mouse, more like a rat. And that's on a good day. Fucking Leech.
Lab 6-D is practically on the other side of the campus from your classroom, which is pretty suspicious now that you think about it, but there is no way Clarke would be able to take advantage of you, so long as you keep your guard up. You shift to let him enter the computer lab first, a quick glance at your watch telling you that the class will be starting in thirty minutes. This had better not take too long, but even if Clarke wanted to make you late, that didn't matter; that stoner Kronkite always came in baked and three hours late and he still got some pretty fucking good marks.
Whatever, not like Clarke can do anything to you, so you wait for him to show you whatever piece of shit he has...ready...oh my god...
"This is fucking shit! Even for you!" You cry out as you shove him out of his seat, slipping your bag over the side of the chair as your fingers dance over the keyboard and you begin fixing this problem. As you type, rapidly calculating the equations in your head because this is fucking child's play, you realise that you can't hear Clarke's nasal mouth-breathing. Ugh, good, that shit is so fucking...
Wait...why can't you hear his breathing? He was right next to you!
Roll 1d100! Best Roll out of three!
TheOtherSandman
Well worn.
- Joined
- Aug 28, 2013
- Messages
- 7,764
Aw hell naw.
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 35, total 35[/blockquote]
[blockquote]Rolled 1d100 : 35, total 35[/blockquote]
