Welcome to #πππππππ! This account will be used to gather and organize all of the posts for the upcoming SL, as well as drop other behind the scenes goodies!
While this page is under construction, you're welcome to message me on @limblesshero.bsky.social for more information!
β OFF β OFF β WITHβ YOUR β HEAD .α
β€΄οΈ inviting his fellow bot to a chair in his quarters. "A pleasure to meet you, Fark. And *you* have the pleasure of meeting Admiral Razorbeard, pilot of the Buccaneer and her crew."
β€΄οΈ interview, choosing to forgo the threat of retribution until he has reason to believe this is a trap. With the amount of bounties on his head, it could easily be a cop from some planet he hasn't been to in years.
His troops stand at the ready as Fark is escorted inside. "Have a seat," he ushers,‡οΈ
A transmission from other robotic warlords is nothing strange to a scallywag like Razorbeard. Some genuine, some deceptive, some from weak little cowards that want to join his crew for protection. But the message he received from this Fark person is curious. For now, he's merely agreed to an ‡οΈ
β βοΈ @gohomejesterboy.bsky.social
//*brushes the dust and rust off of Razorbeard* Get ready.
β€΄οΈ imagine the weapons he could create! Better yet, he could plant this within his crew to make them *useful*!
Yes... Patience, for now. It will all fall into place in due time.
β€΄οΈ contained. It looks like fireflies in a jar, but somehow, they've extracted video footage of Rayman from it. But how? A world without electronics shouldn't be capable of video recordings. Ah, but if Razorbeard were able to harness this, ‡οΈ
β€΄οΈ If only the research program were making any progress at all! He's come to check on it, and it seems it's as useless as ever. This... thing he salvaged, it's more than just energy. Once his energy reserves noticed a high uptick in performance after consuming it, Razorbeard had it extracted and ‡οΈ
β€΄οΈ They will never truly know what it was like in that horrid factory.
Worse yet, that persistent pest of his managed to get away. No matter how many troops he forces off the plank, none of them ever get their act together. Pathetic. You can code for efficiency, but not for common sense.
‡οΈ
β€΄οΈ sadistically counting away the hours each of them toil. Only when they have worked for as long as he did before he broke himself free does he let them rest. A shrewd part of him wants every creature in the galaxy to know what it feels like to be used, and still, it's not enough to satisfy him. ‡οΈ
Metal parts move so often and so freely aboard the Buccaneer, it's become the heartbeat of the ship. Henchmen march to and fro, whether completing some task or dragging innocent victims into the brig. Razorbeard delights in watching them labor over work that benefits only the pirates, ‡οΈ
[π΅: youtu.be/O7x2gwEgpG4?... ]
Designate MORE power to the NFT servers! MORE, I say! Lift the market cap to the stratosphere, then drop it straight to hell!
Henchman! Generate 50 AI images of Barack Obama with the chaos emeralds! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!
β€΄οΈ In his wake, he leaves destruction, razing and pillaging as he scours the galaxy. The destruction is only just beginning. He'll make that pompous twat regret the little stunt he pulled. All of this will weigh on the hero's conscious, and Razorbeard will stop at nothing to ensure that.
β€΄οΈ has ever stopped him from that goal. Only one slimy little pest stops him from being the scourge of the galaxy.
Rayman.
What a slap in the face, to be opposed by some limbless clown. It infuriates him to no end, and being confronted by his nemesis again fuels Razorbeard's rage. ‡οΈ
β€΄οΈ Knowledge imparted onto him by his creators gives him an eye for profit and gain, but nothing more. What a sad existence, to be created for greed.
He sees no reason to bemoan something he never cared for. He has one goal, and the means to achieve it. Only one creature ‡οΈ
Metal rusts, but never dies. Razorbeard has replaced his parts before but underneath lies the same coding. A shrewd machine is he, created for profit and nothing more. Oh, how the hubris of man ever causes their downfall. Were it not for that shrewd desire, Razorbeard would never have been created.‡οΈ
"Blast! You little...!" Razorbeard tosses the knife on the ground, then snaps his fingers. "All units, move out! Find him! DESTROY him!" Leather boots march across the deck in eerily synchronized pattern as Razorbeard watches his enemy fly from his grasp.
"You can't run forever, Rayman..."
"It's over, Rayman," Razorbeard sneers. "Perhaps I'll end it for you quickly if you give up. Or maybe I'll just let your little friends watch you die!" His laughter is maniacal and unsettling, but if you ask him, he's earned it.
Razorbeard is the only one truly laughing, and oh, what a riot! "After all this time, THAT'S what it takes to get rid of you? Pathetic." He pulls the knife back out, only partially curious about the beads of light that spill from the wound.
Just like that, it's over. Razorbeard plunges the knife into Rayman's stomach, right through the center of the circle.
For all of his strength, Rayman has one sure weakness. Razorbeard stands behind the thingamajig, a strange, oily knife in hand, as he plays a recording of one of Globox's children crying. The sounds of anguish will always trigger a fatal heroism in this creature.
β€΄οΈ office, needing no further instructions to begin blasting at the enemy. It won't hold off Rayman for long, and he knows that. They should, however, prove to be a proper distraction.
On one hand, Razorbeard knows that Rayman chews through metal like he eats it for breakfast. On the other, he's come prepared. Years of awaiting his revenge has brought him to this moment, and he won't let it pass him by.
Of course, his first line of defense is his crew. Pirate drones swarm his ‡οΈ
"I might as well," Razorbeard sneers. "In fact, perhaps I'll make that my objective, now that you've so graciously presented me with a brand new goal!"
β€΄οΈ "live in a literal fantasy land! How couldn't I destroy such an abomination? What use do you make of all of those treasures that go unclaimed?"
