MILESTONES ACTIVATED!
Generate 40 research.
Move 60 material.
Spend 40 labour.
All trolls on this team may join in the mini-boss battles for their respective side.
This is a mini-boss battle, the full rules and mechanics of which can be reviewed here.
SUMMER META MINIBOSS SPECIAL RULES:
Individual troll hp carries over between all mini-bosses. Trinkets/ability usage limits do not.
Defeating a mini-boss allows each troll who fought against it to restore to full HP, including those at 0.
Each teen or older troll can attack each mini-boss four times per day, whenever they choose. After that, they may spend meta actions to attack additional times.
Attacks reset at 12pm EST with the rest of the event.
All attacks must be submitted as a google form as well as a post, following the same rules as all other form posts this meta.
TLDR; please submit the google form immediately after calculating damage, before rp is put in to your post.
Once the mini-boss is at 0hp, this can be counted by all trolls participating as a battle rp for growth. If you have any questions, please PM the mule.
Generate 40 research.
Move 60 material.
Spend 40 labour.
All trolls on this team may join in the mini-boss battles for their respective side.
This is a mini-boss battle, the full rules and mechanics of which can be reviewed here.
SUMMER META MINIBOSS SPECIAL RULES:
Individual troll hp carries over between all mini-bosses. Trinkets/ability usage limits do not.
Defeating a mini-boss allows each troll who fought against it to restore to full HP, including those at 0.
Each teen or older troll can attack each mini-boss four times per day, whenever they choose. After that, they may spend meta actions to attack additional times.
Attacks reset at 12pm EST with the rest of the event.
All attacks must be submitted as a google form as well as a post, following the same rules as all other form posts this meta.
TLDR; please submit the google form immediately after calculating damage, before rp is put in to your post.
Once the mini-boss is at 0hp, this can be counted by all trolls participating as a battle rp for growth. If you have any questions, please PM the mule.
You have encountered a Malfunctioning Packing Bot!
The Civisect Packing Bot has gone haywire! All sense of order on the factory floor went out the window, along with a couple innocent workers who got within reach of the bot's flailing. It belches out puddles of unidentifiable, scalding liquid onto the zigg zagging conveyor belt instead of neatly labelled, ready-to-ship boxes. Churning its many arms in violent, wild arcs, the bot does continue to deposit materials, but in between violent spewings of what one could only assume are dangerous chemicals. Getting close enough to turn it off is near impossible. A nerdy lookin' guy who appears to be some sort of engineer waves their arms around and screams that we. CAN. NOT. risk damaging the machine, or Civisect would crash and burn in the competition. Their team will try to disable it remotely so it can be repaired, and it's your job to try and save as much of the materials as you can and keep the machine from completely destroying everything, including itself. The bot lets out an ungogly screech, emits a spurt of yellow fumes, and deposits flaming liquid into a cardboard box.
PACKING BOT/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
PACKING BOT/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
If you rolled a 1, you misstep and slip in a puddle of steaming mystery liquid. It burns. You're sent sprawling comically across the factory floor, and right into the clutches of the bot's claws. It slaps a label across your face- hard- knocking you out momentarily. Take 5 dmg.
If you rolled a 2, the bot grabs you by one leg and slams you onto the conveyor belt. It continues to delicately place a bow on your head, then burps out a pile of hot goo down your shirt. Take 4 dmg.
If you rolled a 3, you listen to the engineer and desperately jam slime-coated batteries and whatever else you can fit into your pockets and hands. Hauling your small pile of retrieved goods off somewhere safe, you realise your soaked clothes are now starting to sting a bit. Not good. Take 3 dmg.
If you rolled a 4, you scramble wildly to mop the goop off the gunked up conveyor belts. Armed with one in each hand, you use the power of soap and water to fight this battle. Needless to say, it's losing one. Take 3 dmg.
If you rolled a 5, you get a decent pace going, plucking materials that were clean-enough from the belt and tossing them off to the side. You seem to catch the attention of the bot somehow, as it targets you specifically and begins to pelt you with cardboard boxes it had somehow folded into crude missiles. Take 2 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you remain smartly out of reach, instead focusing on plucking the savable items off the conveyor belt. You got a nice pile going, until the bot sends an unfortunate troll hurdling towards you and your stuff. Take 2 dmg.
If you rolled a 2, the bot grabs you by one leg and slams you onto the conveyor belt. It continues to delicately place a bow on your head, then burps out a pile of hot goo down your shirt. Take 4 dmg.
If you rolled a 3, you listen to the engineer and desperately jam slime-coated batteries and whatever else you can fit into your pockets and hands. Hauling your small pile of retrieved goods off somewhere safe, you realise your soaked clothes are now starting to sting a bit. Not good. Take 3 dmg.
If you rolled a 4, you scramble wildly to mop the goop off the gunked up conveyor belts. Armed with one in each hand, you use the power of soap and water to fight this battle. Needless to say, it's losing one. Take 3 dmg.
If you rolled a 5, you get a decent pace going, plucking materials that were clean-enough from the belt and tossing them off to the side. You seem to catch the attention of the bot somehow, as it targets you specifically and begins to pelt you with cardboard boxes it had somehow folded into crude missiles. Take 2 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you remain smartly out of reach, instead focusing on plucking the savable items off the conveyor belt. You got a nice pile going, until the bot sends an unfortunate troll hurdling towards you and your stuff. Take 2 dmg.
When the mini-boss or all trolls have reached 0hp, please wait for the mule to post an ending.
You have encountered an Internal Chemical Leak!
Florescent lights flicker off, and the halls of the laboratory you're droning along in fill with bright red light. Sirens blare, along with a dull voice informing you of a chemical leak! It seems like the trolls in charge of that sector were completely blind sighted, and are all currently out of commission. It's up to you to figure out how to completely seal it, with, unfortunately, minimal protective gear. The labyrinthine room itself is full of walled panels glowing and flashing with various mystery buttons. A mammoth, looming monitor displays a blueprint of the facility, with flashing red dots indicating where the leak has directly spread to- including this very room. The key to sealing it off is in here somewhere... but the buttons are all unlabelled, and no one knows what's up. Good luck.
CHEMICAL LEAK/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
CHEMICAL LEAK/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
If you rolled a 1, you try and hold your breath instead of inhale the polluted air. Your eyes water as you try and jot down a chart of the buttons you were working on to record your findings. Eventually, you give in and suck in a deep inhale. Your body wasn't ready for the shock of the stinging air, and you spasm into a coughing fit, twitching on the floor. Take 4 damage and 1 damage each roll after until support power is used on you.
If you rolled a 2, you punch in a succession that you're confident will shut off six external vents. Instead, the monitor bursts forth in red dots like fireworks. Frantically you try and undo your error, mashing buttons, but all you really accomplish in your panic is to hyperventilate and breathe in an excess amount of fumes. Take 3 damage and 1 damage each roll after until support power is used on you.
If you rolled a 3, you hum and haw before hitting a succession of buttons that seem potentially logical. A metal panel slides open, and a laser zaps your sniffnode. It continues to send annoying little bolts of blue light at your heels, and you run around uselessly like a cluckbeast for the next several minutes until the panel reseals. Take 2 damage and 1 damage each roll after until support power is used on you.
If you rolled a 4, you opt to merely slam your fist against the wall. The buttons you hit flash blue, and you watch four of the red dots on the monitor blink off. Success! Unfortunately, a vent right above your head opens and gushes forth a toxic cloud. A lone red dot blips onto the blueprint. Take 4 dmg, and deal +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 5, you refuse to give into the wooziness threatening to take over you. Studying your peers inputs, you used your deductive reasoning to figure out how to shut off several vents elsewhere in the facility, but at the sacrifice of opening one in this room. You do it anyway. Take 3 dmg, and deal +3 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you dig through drawers until you find a manual. Aha! Knowledge is power! You flip through the pages and glean some bit of insight about how this damn thing works, but you're starting to see double and pass it off to another troll in the hopes it can help. Take 2 damage and deal 2x damage before running off for a breather!
If you rolled a 2, you punch in a succession that you're confident will shut off six external vents. Instead, the monitor bursts forth in red dots like fireworks. Frantically you try and undo your error, mashing buttons, but all you really accomplish in your panic is to hyperventilate and breathe in an excess amount of fumes. Take 3 damage and 1 damage each roll after until support power is used on you.
If you rolled a 3, you hum and haw before hitting a succession of buttons that seem potentially logical. A metal panel slides open, and a laser zaps your sniffnode. It continues to send annoying little bolts of blue light at your heels, and you run around uselessly like a cluckbeast for the next several minutes until the panel reseals. Take 2 damage and 1 damage each roll after until support power is used on you.
If you rolled a 4, you opt to merely slam your fist against the wall. The buttons you hit flash blue, and you watch four of the red dots on the monitor blink off. Success! Unfortunately, a vent right above your head opens and gushes forth a toxic cloud. A lone red dot blips onto the blueprint. Take 4 dmg, and deal +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 5, you refuse to give into the wooziness threatening to take over you. Studying your peers inputs, you used your deductive reasoning to figure out how to shut off several vents elsewhere in the facility, but at the sacrifice of opening one in this room. You do it anyway. Take 3 dmg, and deal +3 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you dig through drawers until you find a manual. Aha! Knowledge is power! You flip through the pages and glean some bit of insight about how this damn thing works, but you're starting to see double and pass it off to another troll in the hopes it can help. Take 2 damage and deal 2x damage before running off for a breather!
When the mini-boss or all trolls have reached 0hp, please wait for the mule to post an ending.
You have encountered a Paparazzi Horde!
There's a low rumbling coming from the distance. An attack from Chittentown? Another earthquake? No... it's a mindless hoard of paparazzi! They swarm your site, wild eyed and thirsty for exclusive pictures of the building process and the valiant trolls leading the efforts. While the site is protected by high barbed fences, that doesn't stop them from wiggling in and launching themselves at any troll nearby, fiercely demanding, yet begging for an interview. They're a distraction, a nuisance- and they're crawling everywhere, hiding in every nook and cranny armed with a camera. Get these pests out!
PAPARAZZI/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
PAPARAZZI/EVENT BOSSES HP COUNTER
SUBMIT AN ATTACK ==>
If you rolled a 1, a swarm of paparazzi catch up with you. Bright strobing lights of their cameras go off in your face, blinding you. Someone tackles you, screaming questions about who does your hair. You press to the ground, clutch your head, and sob. Take 5 dmg.
If you rolled a 2, you watch the chains straining to hold back the flood of paparazzi from barrelling through the main gate start to give. Scrambling alongside a flock of your peers, you ram against the metal gate, struggling to keep it shut long enough for someone to lock it again. Take 4 dmg as a paparazzo claws at your arms and back, collecting scraps of your clothing.
If you rolled a 3, a paparazzi member tackles you to the ground and starts to shout enthusiastically about their zine. Take 4 dmg. After a lengthy, bloody struggle, you point out a purrbeast spectating atop a high shelf. While the troll is distracted taking several photos of it, you slam a garbage can over them and roll them off to be discarded. Do +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 4, you become cornered by three paparazzi. In a cunning display, you being to throw down poses instead of fleeing from their cameras. They gasp, and the cameras go off. Take 3 damage from aggressive vogueing, but do +2 damage as you push them down and stomp on their cameras.
If you rolled a 5, you offer a large group of paparazzi an exclusive, insider interview. They follow you without question, and you promptly lead them out the back gate. Take 3 damage in the struggle to get back inside, but do +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you turn the tables and instead ask the paparazzi who THEY'RE wearing. They blush and begin to ramble about themselves, escalating in a teary confession about their problematic relationship with their lusus growing up. You shed an emotional tear and take 3 dmg, but also double your own.
If you rolled a 2, you watch the chains straining to hold back the flood of paparazzi from barrelling through the main gate start to give. Scrambling alongside a flock of your peers, you ram against the metal gate, struggling to keep it shut long enough for someone to lock it again. Take 4 dmg as a paparazzo claws at your arms and back, collecting scraps of your clothing.
If you rolled a 3, a paparazzi member tackles you to the ground and starts to shout enthusiastically about their zine. Take 4 dmg. After a lengthy, bloody struggle, you point out a purrbeast spectating atop a high shelf. While the troll is distracted taking several photos of it, you slam a garbage can over them and roll them off to be discarded. Do +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 4, you become cornered by three paparazzi. In a cunning display, you being to throw down poses instead of fleeing from their cameras. They gasp, and the cameras go off. Take 3 damage from aggressive vogueing, but do +2 damage as you push them down and stomp on their cameras.
If you rolled a 5, you offer a large group of paparazzi an exclusive, insider interview. They follow you without question, and you promptly lead them out the back gate. Take 3 damage in the struggle to get back inside, but do +2 dmg.
If you rolled a 6, you turn the tables and instead ask the paparazzi who THEY'RE wearing. They blush and begin to ramble about themselves, escalating in a teary confession about their problematic relationship with their lusus growing up. You shed an emotional tear and take 3 dmg, but also double your own.
When the mini-boss or all trolls have reached 0hp, please wait for the mule to post an ending.
