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| Chorus of Whispers; Epitaph: Part I | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 8 2009, 07:23 PM (3,193 Views) | |
| Themistocles | Apr 8 2009, 07:23 PM Post #1 |
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OOC: Here it is: the real first stage of Epitaph. There will likely be three parts; this is Part I. Please be patient with this post, although it is no shorter than the one for character creation (then again, if you can't stand to read through some text, you shouldn't be playing RPs anyway). The "prologue" is just kind of an introduction to the Capital, spoken through the perspective of the "Watcher". After that is the first real post, explaining your surroundings to you. A few of your have asked about my character. As I am GM, I think that it would be completely unfair for me to be an actively participating character in the sense that you all are. My job is to narrate. However, I will sometimes speak through the perspectives of side characters. I will never god-mod in this RP, or take control of players' characters. The Capital is largely controlled by something called the Watcher. I won't say whether this is a person, a small group of people, an organization, or something not human at all. The Watcher's public face is called Aeschylus (I named him for the ancient Greek playwright who founded the “tragedy” genre). Although no one knows whether Aeschylus is a real person or not, he does speak to the public and will frequently appear to you on radios, television screens, etc. Keep in mind that neither Aeschylus nor the Watcher are considered the leaders of the Capital; the Watcher is the Capital’s eyes, and Aeschylus is its voice. But the Capital is considered to be an entity in of itself, not just a collaboration of normal people. You could say that Aeschylus is my character, but not in the traditional sense; he is just used to move the story forward. I know I have very little experience with RPs, so if anyone has any suggestions for me or complaints, feel free to send me PMs on the subject. Anyone who wants to ask a question to everyone on this RP can ask it on the Epitaph character creation page. By the way: throughout the course of the RP, I may refer to the Cold Lights. When I say this I am talking about the stars. It's from a short story I wrote, which I will soon post on this forum. Most other strange terms I use will probably be connected to the story, and I will reveal their meanings in time. When you start out, you will have none of the equipment you may have specified. But you have complete freedom, and anything can be used as a weapon. You could break a window and take a large shard of broken glass, with cloth tied around one end; or you could be super brutal, and kill some unsuspecting non-player character and take his/her femur bone, sharpened to a point. Homemade explosives? Sure, if you have ingredients. And now it begins... IC: Prologue: Beneath the dead glow of the stars, the Watcher was patiently waiting. Thousands of satellites revolved around the shimmering blue-green spheroid that was the Earth. They were familiar with the Earth and its changes as its fertile areas of green expanded and contracted with the seasons and the climate change, as the deserts were occasionally watered by natural precipitation. Some of the satellites were designed for weather control, but they were not as important as the cameras, the mechanical eyes. With every passing fraction of a second, each of them took a new snapshot of the world below them, recording in detail the subtle changes in the weather, landforms, oceans, and forests, gathering information on the natural phenomena that covered the surface of the Earth's crust. Every few weeks, the Earth's geographical layout was reevaluated in the vast computers where it was stored, the models adjusted to compensate for new data. Equally interesting to the satellites was the movement and expansions of the human cities, their settlements and civilizations. Each year the silvery gray patches where people built their civilizations. There were no cities that the Capital had not authorized and designed, but sometimes humanity found a way to be defiant nonetheless. People were documented with no less attention to detail. The satellites' lenses were so precise that they could determine which humans had dry skin, and observe their lips so they could read their movements and know what they were saying without the assistance of sound waves; the electromagnetic spectrum was far more reliable. Each individual human down there had been carefully documented, their lives recorded and placed correspondingly with detailed, unbiased analyses. There was not a single member of the human race without a proper numerical ID designation; those deemed nonhuman, called Nons by the public, were given only simple identification codes, while the important ones had several interlocking IDs for genetic, Family, criminal, and personal records; given names were used only when communicating directly with the people, but were recorded in several languages. The Watcher knew the people of the Earth better than they knew themselves. When the Capital had taken the governments of the world by force following the Third World War, the dominion of government foretold by Orwell the Seer had come to pass; control was absolute. Even before the Capital made its power known and forged the State out of the remnants of fallen nations, it controlled key world leaders and their peoples without fear. During the Blind War, the leaders had been obliterated, with only the Capital in power, and only the Watcher as its eyes. Down on Earth, the Watcher spoke to the public and rallied them against any and all potential enemies, and decreed whatever statement the Capital wished to be turning into law. The Capital spoke through Watcher, and Watcher in turn spoke to the public through the face the people knew so well. This great speaker was called Aeschylus, and in a sense he was master of humanity. But despite whatever rebellious rumors had been started, the Capital was not the dictator that ran society with military force; it was the embodiment of humanity itself, the personification of the collective. The Cold Lights that were the stars watched as well, but not in the same way; they gazed down at the Earth with a different sort of interest, a darker, crueler perspective based on minds so alien they could not be defined as such by human scientists. Yet the Watcher paid no attention to them. The Cold Lights were not the Watcher's business. Its only true interest was mankind. And through the legions of orbital satellites, Watcher observed civilization with a cold efficiency almost matching the stars'. Part I begins OOC: (this is where I introduce your surroundings, and where the action starts) IC: The Cell It was a white walled room. White tiles covering the walls and ceiling. The lights were white, intensely so, and the way they reflected off the walls was blinding. Many men had gone insane here, trapped with only the white emptiness to comfort them; their dreams became utterly colorless. As did their minds. It was terribly ironic, the way the room somehow seemed so large and empty to a man who was locked in there, but small and claustrophobic to a passerby. But here, there were no passersby. Only people who were locked in, and people who watched them. With so little color in the room, it was almost refreshing to have the added splashes of crimson on the walls. It was all dried by now, coated heavily onto the walls, and its shade had gone from scarlet to a brown-tinged crimson. Some people who came here were shocked by how much blood had been shed in this room, but soon grew used to it. Some were relieved by the disruptions in the walls' sheer brightness. But for others, it was yet another instigator of insanity. There were three people here: the director of an underground organization known as the Basement, a Russian mercenary, and an operative from the Company. They found themselves dressed in a simple white garment reminiscent of a hospital gown, and any weapons they had had before were gone. There was no memory of how they had ended up here. Despite their backgrounds, so different from one another, they were made equal by those that kept them here; for one to find himself superior, he would have to fight his way into such a position. Through a series of glass windows, more cells were visible, but a layer of dirt coating the glass made it difficult to see through to the other side. Still, they could see a multitude of people with sunken eyes and faces as pale as the walls around them, looking thin and feeble. They were wearing similar white clothes, but theirs were ragged and stained with blood and dirt. They did not seem to notice their surroundings at all. The Circle Three others--a man specializing in false identities, a thief who had separated himself from society, and a psychopathic killer--found themselves in a great stone ring, carved of rock rather than artificial cement. It spanned about a hundred meters in diameter, and had shallow walls. In the darkness, they could not make out the details of the place, and soon they found that they did not want to. Though the walls of the circle were certainly not high, they could not see anything over them. It was not because there was nothing there; it was because they did not want to see what was there. Something about the circle itself entranced them, captivated them, kept them within its borders, even with no system for holding them in. At the center of the ring were two doorways, standing side by side. A plethora of voices emanated from those stone entrances, whispering and echoing. But there was nothing on the other side of either door; they were freestanding. And high above the stone circle, the Cold Lights watched, surrounded by their otherworldly glows. OOC: Anyone with questions, please ask. By the way, the circle is not enclosed; it's outdoor. And none of you have equipment to begin with. For anyone who missed it, Kranford, Mike, and Puma are in the white-tiled cell; Fallout, Masau, and Cyphon are in the stone circle. Edited by Themistocles, Apr 8 2009, 08:00 PM.
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 8 2009, 08:56 PM Post #2 |
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Morphumax
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(OOC: Well...Them isn't on to answer my question about Shadow's location, so I'll assume that she's both not in the Circle, and out or range of Jim's telepathy) IC: Jim awoke suddenly, unable to remember where he was. He looked around, but couldn't see anything in the dark. Instinctively, Jim reached for the flashlight he kept in he pocket, but it wasn't there. "Shadow?" Jim called out, hoping she could help him, but there was no response. Shadow! Jim called again, this time reaching out to her with his mind. Again, no response. "Where is she? Is she alright? What happened? Where am I? How did I get here?". Jim reached into his pocket again, this time taking out a pocket watch, and began tracing his finger over the design etched into the front as he often did while deep in thought. Jim didn't even notice the other two people who were with him in the Circle, with his mind too distracted with trying to remember the events that had landed him here, and calling out to Shadow. If only he could remember what happened to her... EDIT: OOC: Why the hell did I name my character Jim? ~Bob |
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| Cyphon | Apr 9 2009, 06:56 AM Post #3 |
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IC Cyphon's eyes came into focus as he rose from the floor. A quick glance at his surroundings showed that he was in a circle of stone with two others. One was called out for something called Shadow. Cyphon wished he would shut up. Which he did though the reason was unfathamable. Deciding now was the time to observe Cyphon fades into the wall where he cannot be seen. Watching always watching. Cyphon stares at the sky and wonders if they put them here. 'I must break into their records if I want to know how I got here' Cyphon thought. OOC if your wondering who they are its the watcher and government if the people don't know about the satallites then Cyphon is a conspiracy nut. IC 'I need a weapon' Cyphon looks around. Smashs arm into side where rock is slightly cracked. 'Fuck that hurt' Several shards of rock fall to the floor. He picks up one about 10 inches long. Using the rock section he broke it from he sharpens the end and dulls a 4 inch handle to it. 'Perfect' is his last thought before fading back into the shadows. OOC Cyphon is not hiding, he is invisible. Not to the watcher because he does not disappear from the entire spectrum though he disappears from 97% of the entire thing, well out of any human, animal, or most cameras capabilities to locate. Edited by Cyphon, Apr 9 2009, 06:58 AM.
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| S. Puma | Apr 9 2009, 10:35 PM Post #4 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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OC: alright, to keep the momentum up I will post first for the people in the Cell. IC: Oslo woke up to a blinding flash. Nay, it was not a flash but a continual stream of light. Slowly the scene developed: he was a in a white tiled room with three others. It was almost an unending stream of white: broken by streams of brown and red. There was also a dirty window, looking at similar cells as this. "This must be some sort of hospital of some sort. Maybe an asylum." He looked down at himself: he was dressed in a sort of white rag, same as the other two. Speaking of the other two, Oslo began to distinguish their fetures: both were pale, one had bright blue eyes; the other had a large scar reaching down from his eye socet, like a fleshy tear. Oslo groped at the sides and the ceiling, there must be some sort of lamp producing a light. When Oslo found a panel that seemed to be promising, he undressed. In spite of his nudity, he used the rag to protect his hand as it smashed through the glass. He reached into the panel and pulled out one of the flourecent tubes that lit it. As it was disconnected the light for that panel went out, like a black line on a white canvas. He wrapped the rag back around himself, like a toga. Oslo looked over to the others, both of them still seemed to be recuperating. "I am leaving, if either of you want to leave as well, I suggest that you find something to defend yourselves with." Slowly, Oslo groped for the door. Was there a door? |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | Apr 9 2009, 10:41 PM Post #5 |
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The Count
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Kranford awoke from his slumber, slowly rising to his feet. The hitman took in the surroundings "Simple. Very simple." he thought to himself as he slowly walked around the room's perimeter. Kran thought for a moment and reflected on his situation. He had almost lost Zoe to the experimentation of The Capital, and had never forgiven them for it. He never would forgive them for it. She was the only thing outside of his work that he had a passion for. Going to the blood on the walls, he wrote "You'll pay for Zoe" on it, promptly glaring at a camera (if he could see one) and throwing it the finger. It wasn't very often that Kran lost his temper, but things involving Zoe's well-being after her encounter with a street-tester would cause him to get steamed. Noticing that one of the other inmates had knocked out a bulb and was looking for a door (assuming it wasn't obvious). "Leaving, eh? That sounds like the best damn idea I've heard today," responded the assassin as he used part of his gown to grab another tube of light. He took his gown off, wrapped it around the tube, and then hit it all against the wall, the gown wrappings preventing the glass from exploding outwards. After thoroughly shaking out the hospital gown, he put it back on and helped the other man look for a door. Edited by Kranford T. Butcher, Apr 9 2009, 11:03 PM.
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| FalloutJack | Apr 10 2009, 02:58 AM Post #6 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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There's alot that can be said for being psychic. One of them is...you'd think that when someone is gunning for you that you'd know when it's coming. Apparently, you can't be psychic about everything, because the requirement of always knowing when to duck is constant paranoia and Evan just didn't have the stamina for that. More or less, he was one that strode fairly-confidentally around, fairly certain that he could think his way out of a situation, literally. When your brain moves the world around you, it also ought to be enough to cancel out the bad shit at the speed of thought. But...not everyone is infallable. In fact, there's still a raging argument over whether perfection is even possible. Nevertheless...Evan Ramsey lay in a room which he was unfamiliar. And that was only the start of his problems today. Resisting the urge to make any motions whatsoever, he assessed the situation as he lay motionless, feigning unconsciousness in favor of keeping the element of surprise on his side. This was a case where he might need every little chance he could get. Thus, the following line of thought ensued... Okay...I'm in a place where I don't know where I am, so...radar scope please. God, what'd I ever do without six senses? Alright, I'm in a very large room, and the fact that nothing's penetrating my eyelids suggests darkness. The problem is that I can't get much more than that without taking a more active role. There's two people, and...something oppressive above me. What...? No, don't look. Not yet. My baton... Is it...? Nope, it's gone. Dammit... I'm gonna have to wake up sooner or later, get a fuller view of things. And that was when he started hearing one of the others talking aloud and he decided to hold off thus far. The other two in the room were making some moves. One of them was calling out to someone named Shadow, or to whoever may have been here about said person. The other...stated the need for a weapon and did something about it, because Evan heard stone cracking and...is that what they're to be reduced to? Stone knives? This must've been the ass-end of the- Okay, time to open the ole' peepers. Evan opened his eyes...to night, or what looked like night. Night sky, night stars, and nightly-lit coliseum which the edge of his perceptions was not allowing him to see beyond. "I'd like to say that I've been in worse cases, but somehow...no." It was too dark to make things out in proper - neverminding the perception-filtering thing - but Evan had the sense for it. Coliseum was an accurate term. It was...wide enough to house a football game in all directions, and had high enough walls for stands, leading up to...to...hmmm. To nothing, as far as his eyes were telling him. C'mon, super-brain... Puncture that veil of deceit! After a moment of this, he disengaged, finding that just waking up put a strain on his brain as is, thus putting him in the Mr. Groggy mode. So, let's review... They - whoever it was - scooped Evan up from...whatever he was last doing - he couldn't remember - and dragged him here, leaving him to his own devices - actually, no devices at all, save for his glasses - along with two seemingly unrelated people whom he had never met. So, you'll understand right now if Evan was more or less acting on a pre-coffee sort of status and was therefore going to be blunt. "No sense talking if no one's listening here." That was to the guy who was calling for Shadow. To the guy who had armed himself... "And no point keeping out of sight if you're expected to make the next move." Because that's what Evan was thinking about now. Whoever was up to this monkey business... They weren't gonna act, not when there was such a complicated and weird setup as this. Seriously, Evan had never seen a place like this. He went to the two doors almost immediately, looking and sensing them over, carefully. Hmmm, a couple of free-standing doors in stone doorways, noises emanating from them. Then, he knocked on them, thinking, wondering... "The Door is The Way?" Douglas Adams aside, since there was nothing behind these damn things, he was beginning to think that there was something existant behind these doors when opened. The question was...could they just be opened or was there more to it, like a lock? Evan just wanted to be sure he wasn't getting himself into something he couldn't reverse. |
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| Cyphon | Apr 10 2009, 10:19 AM Post #7 |
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IC Cyphon noticed one of the other prisoners explore the area. He seemed to know what he was doing, he had less trouble than the first he had seen. "I have no intention of making the next move, not until something requires me to." Then he felt his stomach cramp with hunger. "and now something has" he walks to the door and opens it.... |
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 10 2009, 08:13 PM Post #8 |
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Morphumax
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Jim was still mumbling to himself and playing with the pocketwatch when he realized that someone was talking to him. Jim looked around again. This time, his eyes had adjusted more to the dark, and he noticed two other figures in the room. One seemed to be hiding, and the other was wandering around. "Who are you? How did we get here? Where did they take her?" Jim asked the two men, as he reached out with his mind, this time hoping to get answers from the men who were with him. Suddenly, voices of thousands of people flooded his mind, many of them whining and questioning. It seemed like they were almost all prisoners as well. "SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP." Jim screamed, holding his head. "LEAVE ME ALONE." Jim tried to block them out again, but couldn't concentrate. Giving up, Jim looked up again in time to see the man knock on the second door. "Do you...have...any idea...what's...behind them?" Jim asked, speaking in bursts, still trying to regain control of his ability. Before the other man could answer, the fellow who had been hiding walked up to one and opened it... ~Bob |
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| Themistocles | Apr 10 2009, 10:18 PM Post #9 |
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OOC: This is not the major update. I am still waiting on Mike, but if he doesn't post I'll update anyway tomorrow. There won't be any consequences for him whatsoever. By the way, the empty doorways are ancient-looking and worn-down, and have no real door within them; they are just the frames. They are called "the Gateway". You will see later why it is singular and not plural. IC: The door remains closed, as does its twin. Because they cannot be so easily opened, because they are not closed in the traditional sense. They are twin stone archways, rectangular in shape. There are no physical doors in either doorway; anyone can easily see through to the other side. But there is something unseen behind the doors. You must experiment with them, because the doors are hard to open. The first step is to understand how they are closed in the first place, and what is blocking you from seeing what truly lies beyond. Although they are not very loud, a stream of whispers is emanating from the empty doorways, speaking in strange languages that sound as if they are not spoken by human voices. The are soft now, but it will not take much to make the whispers change... |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 10 2009, 11:13 PM Post #10 |
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Gregory sat up, then stretched and yawned. “That was a nice nap.” He cracked his knuckles, then his neck. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around. Let’s see… Where am I? He was inside a room, not a very spacious one. The walls were white, and stained with something crimson. It was probably blood, but Gregory didn’t know, or care enough to find out. For all he cared, it was a massive ketchup spill. And thinking of it that way helped his psyche. Now… How did I get here? Gregory couldn’t remember. Let’s see He was working for those… what’s their name again? The Triad. What was it he had to do? Argh. Gregory hated it when his memory failed him. He was working on a family. He had to kill them. Wait. Kill or guard? Hell, he didn’t remember. It seemed trivial now. So. I don’t know how I got here. Back to the original question. Where in the hell am I? Probably a prison. Only 2 years ago, he wouldn’t have cared. Prison meant free food and bedding. Just like the army, ‘cept you don’t get shot at. But now… The Capital didn’t take prisoners. Besides, he didn’t do anything to piss it off. There was a chance he was taken for experimentation. Much likelier was that he botched the mission and was being held in an underground complex belonging to a wealthy family. In that case, he’d be enslaved, or killed. Or left to starve and go insane. He didn’t like any of those options. Well, he could go along with the one who ripped a light bulb off. His eyes adjusted faster than those of the others, part of his conditioning for the Russian army helped him there. It wouldn’t be as fast as the mutant freaks the Capital employed, but he saw sharper and adjusted to light much better than most humans. Gregoriy's eyes scoured the room, inspecting every inch of it for air vents, indentations, anything that could signal an escape route. He also looked through the windows to see if the other room had a door. Gregory felt around his body. He was looking for his knife. Gregory cursed under his breath. Finally up, he whispered. “So, any of you wanna introduce yourselves, eh, roommates? I’ll be Gregoriy” [OOC] Where are the archways? Room or circle? Edited by MikeV37, Apr 11 2009, 02:35 AM.
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 10 2009, 11:57 PM Post #11 |
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Morphumax
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(OOC: Circle) ~Bob |
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| S. Puma | Apr 11 2009, 12:50 PM Post #12 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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(IC) Oslo looked at the Russian as he and the other person kept looking for a door. He looked to the blue-eyed man and back at the Russian. "Oslo......Oslo Thistes." He undressed again, wrapped the garb around his hand, and looked at the blue-eyed man. "I don't think there is a door or a vent, we'll have to take the hard way out." He shattered the dirty glass window with one hit, returned the garb to his person, then looked to the others. "Don't scratch yourselves on the way out." |
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| Themistocles | Apr 11 2009, 09:40 PM Post #13 |
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OOC: This post is mainly for the people in the cell. Soon I will have a post that's more significant for the people in the circle. This is because the people in the cell have moved on to the next cell, and I must explain their new circumstances. The people in the circle are in the same situation they were before. The reason for that is mainly that the circle is a larger place, and their goals are more mysterious for now; they must do more to discover their surroundings, while the people in the cell are able to move more quickly. IC: The Cell Even as the three new test subjects awoke one by one and became acquainted with their surroundings, even as they managed to shatter the light fixtures and the glass window, the Experimenters were watching. They breathed abnormally slowly, and each inhalation rattled the gas masks they wore. Their bodies were encased in armored environmental suits that allowed nothing through, for fear of escaped experimental toxins or pathogens. This facility contained a great many hazardous organic substances, and the people who oversaw the experimentation had to take every possible precaution. The Experimenters were enigmatic and silent. They were never seen speaking, eating, or sleeping; only watching. They would occasionally pump gas into particular chambers, or prepare syringes and inject their contents into subjects' bloodstreams, or do anything else they had to in order to carry out their assigned experiments. But now they did not interfere. They only watched. ________________ In another cell, similar to the one Oslo, Gregory, and Kranford were trapped in, two people sat waiting. One male, one female. They were both clad in the same sort of simple white garment, but unlike those of the three in the first cell, theirs were dirty and torn, and stained heavily with blood. They were suffering from malnutrition at the hands of their captors, as well as the results of the horrific medical experiments they had undergone. The cell these two found themselves in was identical to the other, similarly spattered with crimson. But they had been here longer, and suffered because of it. These cells were not where the experiments took place; they were simply the holding area, in between testings. The man had been aged greatly by radiation testing, and his hair had fallen out across most of his head, leaving only a few scraggly strands here and there, soaked through with grime. The young woman was very pale and thin after being locked up, alone, for several months. Now she gazed miserably at the wall, wishing she could sleep but unable to do so. They had gotten used to the nauseous stench coming from the other side of the room. Only a week ago there had been a third man in this cell, a young man. Now he was dead, and his corpse had been allowed to rot here. Suddenly there was a burst of sound as the window shattered. Both of them turned abruptly, terrified by the sudden new sound that had come up so unexpectedly. They saw three men on the other side, staring through at them. They looked remarkably unharmed, aside from a few cuts and scrapes that looked fresh. They were newcomers here. The newcomers had broken through the glass. This was bad. The Experimenters did not like people breaking things. The Circle The three people were being observed as well. Everything about their speech, their improvised weapons, their unique reactions to their new surroundings, had been documented. But what was most important to the observers was their psychic activity. That was what the three people in the stone circle all had in common: they were gifted with psionic abilities. One of them was calling out for his dog. First he had thought about it intently with his mind; the concentration of thought was immense. Then he had called out to her, called her "Shadow". But the most important aspect to the outburst was how he had muttered about her in his unconscious state, even before he awoke. This meant that the psychic bond between them was important, and the observers knew that. One of the Experimenters strode over to where the dog was being held and watched as the needle was inserted into its side, the clear liquid injected. There were special computers there to keep track of the psychic activity that went on here; soon they would see if the telepath in the circle would somehow be alerted to the change in the dog's medical status. They watched as the men tried to "open" the doors. None of the Experimenters truly understood how the doors worked; that was not their area of expertise. But they would watch how the doors affected the mental activity of the test subjects down below. Aeschylus was watching as well. Edited by Themistocles, Aug 3 2009, 01:27 PM.
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| FalloutJack | Apr 11 2009, 10:56 PM Post #14 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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While Evan was messing with the two apparent doors experimentally, he caught a good look at the properties of the damn things. They weren't your average doors. And while the other guy who had been previously hiding had just simply...tried to open one...another fellow who was somewhat frantic had begun to address him in a less-than-calm manner. He asked him a blitzkreig of questions and then Evan saw him concentrating on something. Psychic power? Could be. The reaction, though, was not a pleasant one. Odd. He hadn't felt anything himself... "Do you...have...any idea...what's...behind them?" "No, of course not. Haven't looked yet." He was just trying to keep an even temperment, forcing his curiosity to out-weigh the concern for what has happened to them. Because unless he was mistaken, they were not going to be able to leave until something was achieved. Either as a puzzle unlocked or a task performed, the ones whom Evan began to suspect were watching them here wanted something. And since his senses were more or less saying that there was no outside...how about inside? The voices in there were...how should we put it?...wrong. They felt wrong. It was probably what the other guy was reacting to. While looking things over, he spoke again. "Sorry, a bit absorbed here. Name's Evan. I don't know the score as of yet and, I dunno who 'Shadow' is either, so you're a out of luck there from me. Hmmm..." These were just a pair of doorways with whispers. They defied ordinary reason. Alright, let's try some abnormal reason. Evan thought at the doors, or rather tried to think at the voices. Open the pod-bay doors, Hal. It's getting cold out here. Not the most serious of attempts. Just an experiment. |
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 12 2009, 12:32 AM Post #15 |
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Morphumax
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Jim finally managed to block the voices out again when the wanderer started talking to him again. He walked over to one of the archways. "Sorry, a bit absorbed here. Name's Evan. I don't know the score as of yet and, I dunno who 'Shadow' is either, so you're a out of luck there from me. Hmmm..." "Of course you don't. Why would you? Noone does. I'm Jim. Did I say that already? I can't remember. The voices...can't focus." Jim said, speaking quickly. Suddenly Jim felt a huge surge of pain, and fell to his knees. It was only there for a fraction of a second, but Jim knew it had come from Shadow. Frantically, Jim tried to discern the her location, but was unable to get anything. "They are hurting her. It's my fault...I never should have come back...They were right...why didn't I listen? Don't go to the Capital they said. You're making a mistake they said. I hate them all so much. Why didn't I just listen? I need to get out of here. I need to help her." Jim said frantically and angrily. Jim threw the pocketwatch, which had still been in his hand, against the stone of one of the arches. It fell and Jim stared at it. The front cover was open and cracked, and the watch itself no longer kept time. (OOC: For the purpose of this post, I'm going to say that the watch still worked up until this point) ~Bob |
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| Themistocles | Apr 12 2009, 09:44 PM Post #16 |
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OOC: When I say that the doorways in the circle are empty, I mean empty. There is no solid door inside them. They are stone archways. You can see straight through to the other side. In fact, you can walk right through them. What I meant when I said they were "closed", I meant that, on a metaphysical level, there is something "behind" them, and there is a way to "open" them. Don't worry, I won't keep you in the dark about this. For now, keep trying different things on the doors. I will soon intervene and make something happen. |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | Apr 12 2009, 10:32 PM Post #17 |
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The Count
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"You'll know me as Kranford the Butcher," spoke the hitman as he looked at the situation outside the window. "I run a contractor company. I'll speak about it later when we're out of here." He peered through to the other room, looking at the two unfortunate sods that occupied it. The stench of the corpse hit Kran's nostrils like a brick wall, but he was able to control his gag reflex. "So that's what would have become of Zoe. These Capital bastards will need a lesson in manners." he thought to himself. |
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| Cyphon | Apr 13 2009, 07:02 AM Post #18 |
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IC "You're Evan, you're Jim and my name's Cyphon. Now that our introductions are complete do any of you have an idea on how the hell we can get out of here, cause I'm seriously tired of this shit" he walks over to the archways and examines the surrounding area for anything unusual. |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 13 2009, 11:12 PM Post #19 |
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Gregory looked out at the nest room, observing it as well. After all, if this was a place for storage of people, as it obviously was, the ones who maintained it would need some way to take the people out, or at least put them in, and since the capital hasn’t learned how to teleport things, there needed to be a path. [OOC] What of note do I see? I’m looking for escape paths. More windows, outlines of what could be a door, a worn out piece of ceiling, anything. {IC] The stench of the rotting body hit him. He saw out of the corner of his eye the one who called himself the butcher recoil slightly, trying to control his gag reflex. So much for being a butcher… Gregory remembered back to Kosovo, where the bodies of the Empire and Capital soldiers were piled out in the sun, nobody to take care of them. The pieces of rebellious flesh left after a capital gunship had made its run by. This stench wasn’t much when compared to those things. He looked back around the room they were leaving behind. He was sure that there was a legitimate exit to it as well, there had to be. But it seemed the group was moving on. Maybe the owners of this place would come to them if they made enough chaos. |
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| Themistocles | Apr 14 2009, 08:39 PM Post #20 |
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They all knew their assignments. Virtually instantaneously, the message had spread that the Inquisitor had ordered yet another specific person to be captured for observation and experimentation. There was no thought as to why, there was only action. The Watcher's metallic gaze swept over the information and the images, then moved on to more pressing matters. Aeschylus was notified, but his role was not to decide these matters; his focus was directed at human society and its workings, not the Capital's side-programs. In these circumstances, the Inquisitor's word was law. The men with the gas masks went in. The men with the gas masks went out. A strange scent was hanging in the air when Loida Gervin awoke, one she did not recognize. Sounds echoed strangely, and she could hear distant screams, reverberating around her. She opened her eyes, despite the brightness of the lights that shone intensely at her eyes. She felt dizzy, drugged, and the room felt as if it were spinning. It was a room made of metal and glass, with long metal tables and entire walls that seemed to be nothing but large windows. What she was lying on appeared to be a metal examining table. Her body was covered in tiny wired electrodes, all hooked up to a large machine attached to the metal part of the wall. She was dressed in an extraordinarily mundane dress, ragged and torn and stained heavily with blood, blood that she did not remember shedding. It was as if she had gone through some violent or traumatic experience, without memory of it. But the rest of the cell was so clean it practically sparkled, as if it had just been sterilized with chemicals. Through the glass were a multitude of other similar glass, cube-shaped cells, all clearly visible. Inside them, there were a number of bloody spectacles. Several contained people simply lying on the floor or on metal tables or cots. Some were bleeding profusely, while others were clearly unharmed but looking quite miserable. One nearby cell contained a terrified looking man who was screaming incoherently. His maddening cries were soon cut off when an electronic drill, positioned on a mechanical arm, drove through the back of his neck, the metal instrument protruding from his bloody, wide-open mouth momentarily before pulling itself back through the incision with a metallic whir. Nearby on a metal table, someone had scrawled an awkward Biohazard symbol in blood. And just below it were a row of glimmering syringes, their needles sparkling cruelly, the strange liquids they contained still. They seemed to be calling out to her, whispering in a strange, alien language that was certainly not something found naturally on this Earth... Edited by Themistocles, Apr 25 2009, 09:49 PM.
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| FalloutJack | Apr 15 2009, 06:22 PM Post #21 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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Jim's voice was beginning to irritate him while he was trying to concentrate, and he didn't want to devote the time to mentally force him to shut up because {A} he was understandably frantic, {B} he might be useful later, and {C} there was always the ever-loving possibility that he needed all his faculties aimed at this mysterious doorway thing that was emanating the whispers and defying all understanding. Jim himself must've been especially sensitive in the sense department, because those voices were clambering all over him while Evan could reduce them to to background noise with an imaginary concrete wall in his head to muffle them. Or maybe they just weren't reaching into his head? Who knows? He didn't... The point is that Jim had better turn seven shades of more-likable once he's got his companion back because he really wasn't helping right now. That being said, let's move on, shall we? "You're Evan, you're Jim and my name's Cyphon. Now that our introductions are complete do any of you have an idea on how the hell we can get out of here, cause I'm seriously tired of this shit." "Actually, I do. Bear with me, because I'm about to rant." He pushed up his glasses as he turned to the two of them, and...GO. "Since it's plain and obvious that we're not known to each other but we're all psychic, I can render a guess that we were brought in here mostly on that one commonality for reasons that I haven't quite figured out yet EXCEPT...that I think we're needed for something. That something being whatever's going on in this place, I believe it's either those walls of oh-god-my-brain-won't-look-past-it or these weird-ass doors. Since there's no way to sense past those fields and our strength is being psychic, then it doesn't take too much thinking to realize 'Hey, doofus, you're not suppose to see us.' and get us to work on their pet project, a pair of ominous doorways that look like something out of Stephen King." Afterwhich, he took a deep breath and returned to normal speaking mode. "So, I'm thinking we were brought here to open some fucking doors. Let's go do that say 'Hi' to Cthulhu." That said, he didn't know how the hell to do that yet. Practically asking the ominous voices to do it wasn't working, and Evan doubted it was going to be as simple as a recitation of "Klaatu Vereatta Niktu". But some of the old ways were the best ways, and as a fan of the old Twilight Zone series - now illegal to own because of the Capital's censoreship laws - he wasn't played out for ideas just yet. You unlock this door with the key of imagination... Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do... Picture if you will, a man who has read and seen alot of thought-provoking material, a man who uses his power to live outside the normal gain of society. Now, in view of two men and countless unknown onlookers, he will attempt to make a door open with just his mind. Here...in the Twilight Zone. Evan closed his eyes and pictured the coliseum, the vision of it and the impression of it that was lasting in his mind. Details sprang about, as his active imagination spared not the tiniest detail. This was a longshot, and he was going to give it all that it was worth. He envisioned the doorways and...with his mind alone, invoked the image of...a breach. Calling on his science fictional knowledge, he willed his mental image of the doors to call upon a light that breached the world, a portal of some sort forming. He willed that he wanted there to be an opening, that he could practically feel it as he was only a matter of feet from the doorways himself. Like in a noted Michael Critchton book, you cannot enter until you make yourself enter. |
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| crazypyromaniac | Apr 15 2009, 07:14 PM Post #22 |
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ooc-- If i use a capital letter for an action, it means she's using her psionic powers(for me, empathy.). ic-- Loida opened her eyes, and carefully paid attention to what she felt, and what she Felt. She was Immediatley assaulted by the Feeling of despair adn panic, and the feeling of disorientation. Well, despair and panic were easy to fix. To the sources were she Felt despair coming from, she sent hope, and to the panic, calm and reassurence. Now to fix her plight. She takes the electrodes off, and attempts to turn off the machine. She carefully avoids the syringes. "Never know what might be in them, and that biohazard doesn't look very reassuring as to their contents". That done, she surveys her surroundings, looking for a door, and Feeling for minds that might have hidden owners. She sends a Feeling of "help me!" out to the residents. If they come to her window, she motions them to break the glass and come in. After that, she searches for a door, doorframe, or something of the like. |
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| Themistocles | Apr 15 2009, 08:26 PM Post #23 |
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OOC: This post is solely for the people in the Circle. The doorways are a puzzle that can be solved in many different ways. Jack, Masau, and Cyphon, you're getting closer. Jack is close to making a discovery about the doorways. And I'm sorry that Jack's chunk of the update is the longest; he just made a lot of progress in his last post. He realized that by trying to "touch" the doors with your mind is the only way to make them respond. Using your psychic abilities on the doors will have results. But they will not necessarily be the results you're hoping for. Jack's plan might now work exactly as he had thought. I will update tomorrow for everyone else. THE CIRCLE A shadow fell over the stone circle, though it was not caused by anything they could see. The stars high above, the Cold Lights, stared down at them with emotions that no human could ever conceive of. Jim Jim's pocketwatch had been broken, and minuscule shards of had fallen to the rocky ground. The Cold Lights saw the despair in his mind, and observed his human mind, so alien to them. Only then did Jim see a change in the doorways, standing solemnly beneath the stars' gazes. Whispers surrounded the circle and they were emanating from the doors, but the doorways themselves were filled with silence, a silence to vast and empty that they seemed to match the dead stillness of space, or even surpass it. Through the doors he could see a shimmer of gold. His pocketwatch, whole again, was floating on the other side of the doors. But it was visible through both doors at once, not just one. Three pocketwatches--one behind each door, and one in Jim's hand--but they were all the exact same watch, in three places at once... Cyphon Cyphon did not see the pocketwatch at all, but he felt the Cold Lights' eyes upon him nonetheless, in a different manner. Before his very eyes, he saw the archways flicker out of existence, turning completely invisible. But it was more than that; they disappeared. There was a hiss as air swept in to fill the place that the doorways had filled. Suddenly, they reappeared, and were the same as they had been to begin with. Cyphon heard the whispers so loudly it was deafening. No, it was blinding. It took him an instant to realize that he was in fact seeing the whispers, not hearing them at all, and they were forming a barrier around the doorways, a barrier that blocked off matter and energy and thought. Then it was gone. Evan Unseen forces watched as Evan tried to force his image of a portal into reality. It was a noble attempt, but at first it seemed lost on the world, because nothing happened. Then, one by one, doors began appearing. There were so many doors that it was impossible to count. Nothing about these doorways was remotely like the ones humans had used for so many generations; they were something else. But they were gateways, entrances to... somewhere. They were rectangular in shape, and shimmered like glass before turning completely transparent. It was easy to see where one door ended and another began. They were assembled in a grid pattern. The doors seemed to be spread along the X, Y, and Z axes; some opened on the floor or in the sky, while others were standing on the ground, or hovering sideways fifty meters into the air. But there were others too that fit in none of these familiar dimensions. Some of the doors were positioned in impossible directions that he could not focus on, directions that had no names because humans were not meant to see them; but somehow, he could still see them, even though they clearly did not obey the normal three spacial dimensions people were so familiar with. The doors revealed a patchwork of different scenes, all scattered throughout the space in the circle. He saw people in white cells, talking to others covered in bloody rags. They were unaware of his eyes on them. And somehow, they seemed familiar. A woman in a strange glass cubical. A black dog contained in a transparent cylinder. These images were all important. He saw satellites that the Capital used as its eyes from the sky, and there was a chilling background knowledge that told him that the satellites were watching him even now. There were scenes from all over the world, and scenes from distant worlds so alien they made no sense to him. He then gazed into the impossible doors, the ones streaming into strange dimensions of space outside of the three he was standing in. He knew that they were outside of his own understanding of the universe, as the grids surrounding them were positioned in directions that people could not comprehend. How he could see things outside his own three dimension of spaces, he did not know. But he could see glimpses of things through them. Strange objects made of something that was neither matter nor energy nor quintessence. When he looked into these doorways he saw the most basic laws of logic turned upside down; everything he knew about mathematics was flipped--no, it was replaced. These worlds worked on a different number line entirely, one that was not even parallel or perpendicular but skew to his own. And he saw the geometries of twisted shapes, images that had been bent and rearranged in ways the mind could not process. What he was looking at were the things of a truly alien existence. It was terrifying, mind-boggling. It was... Gone. It was all gone, more quickly than it had come. Time was suspended. Space was flattened. He stood alone in the circle. The others were gone. The stone was gone, replaced by blackness. There was only blackness, silence, coldness. A single archway stood before him. |
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| S. Puma | Apr 17 2009, 08:44 PM Post #24 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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(OOC) No drama here, there is no need for any. No dramatic look, no charismatic line. (IC) Oslo shrugged at the others, to let them know he heard thier names, then easily avoiding the galss shards on the bottom of the glass panel, he moved into the next cell with a corpse, a balding man, and a thin woman. "Bad smell, eh." |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 18 2009, 07:54 PM Post #25 |
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[OOC] There's ALWAYS room for a dramatic look or a charismatic line. Also, explosions. lol P.S. Where's the update? |
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| Themistocles | Apr 19 2009, 08:48 PM Post #26 |
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The Cell As the glass window was shattered and the first loud noise in days was launched across the cell, the dead stillness of the room was suddenly broken. The young woman got slowly to her feet, blood flowing slowly from a long gash on her cheek. The old man in the corner of the room just stared at a spot on the wall, seeming not to notice the action at all. The three men who had just entered the room all looked at the scene with mixed reactions, though they all had immediately noticed the nauseous stench of death hanging in the air, spotting the corpse seconds later. They saw that the woman was regarding them awkwardly, with no shock, excitement or fear in her eyes, only wonder and sadness. She was quite young, but her expression conveyed the appearance of someone much older. She looked at them as if she had not seen a human being in years--maybe that was what it seemed like to her, since the old man seemed unnaturally detached from his surroundings. Her voice sounded weak and underused when she spoke. "You... you're real?" She reached out a hand to touch Oslo's shirt, before drawing quickly back, seeming afraid. "You're here to help us, right? Please say you're here to help!" She must have seen something in their expressions, because she then said, with a strange sense of force, "Why aren't you here to help us? You're not wearing masks or helmets... I must be... hallucinating..." She swayed nauseously, then brought your hands together, as if she was praying, or begging; maybe that was not such a stretch. The frequency of her speech rose slightly, and although her face made no sign of it, she seemed to be becoming hysteric. "You... you have to do something. Do something! The door... The door must be opened. Please, open the door!" There were tears welling in her eyes now. There was no door. Before any response could be made, there was a stir from the far corner of the cell, where the old, balding man stood. His breathing was becoming heavier and heavier, and his muscles were tensing, almost as if he were about to have a seizure. Without warning, he let out an animalistic bellow and jumped to his feet, charging at the four others like a rampaging bull. There was madness in his eyes as he grabbed the girl, one arm in each hand, and, with a display of strength that seemed impossible for such an old man, tore her frame in two, wrenching her ribcage open around her spine. The, with another bellow, his gaze turned to the three onlookers. |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | Apr 19 2009, 10:18 PM Post #27 |
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The Count
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Kranford was too far away to save the woman from her fate, but he was close enough to take out the crazed inmate that had killed her. The hitman took the initiative and rushed up, bashing the old man in the nose. The madman fell to the floor, dead. His nose had been driven straight into his brain. Deciding to make sure the job was finished, he sat the body up and snapped its neck just in case the elbow hadn't done the trick. He then turned his attention to the dying woman. "Yes, we are real, and you shall be avenged. I'll see to it," he said as the woman passed into the next life, whichever life it might be. "Well, I guess we gotta wait for our captors to drop in on us now," he spoke as he looked around the rooms. OOC: I wasn't sure how combat worked, so I figured I'd take care of things. Edited by Kranford T. Butcher, Apr 20 2009, 07:18 AM.
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| MikeV37 | Apr 19 2009, 11:20 PM Post #28 |
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[OOC] Splendidly done, Kranford. [IC] Gregory stepped into the room as well, leaping through the window. He looked at the woman who was torn in two. “So much help we were…” His gaze swerved to the old man’s crippled body. It was quite a stretch to say that the old man could rip another person on his own. Most likely he was administered drugs, such as the one the Capital used fairly frequently on its soldiers, or workers. Most likely the soldiers. That would explain his erratic and violent behavior. Now, why was he staring at a wall? This wall in particular. The woman said something about a door. There had to be a door in the room, Gregory was sure of that. He stepped over the dead man’s body onto the other side of the room. Once there, he tapped out on the entire length of the wall. A door could be concealed, but the expanse after it would still be heard. Even if it wouldn’t open, it would be possible to knock such a door down. Now then… If there was an observatory for such drugs and their effects, there had to be a camera. It was impossible to conceal them completely, after all, if they were concealed, it would be impossible for them to see. That is why it’s not technically possible to have an invisible human. It could be hidden though. Gregory looked all around the room for reflective surfaces, lights which could conceal the camera with their glare, all the hard to see and hard to reach places. He even moved the rotting carcass, which released more of its smell when stirred. If he found a camera, he could attract the attention of the owners, for better or for worse. And even if it was one sided, he could go in contact with the ones who brought him here. Gregory scoured every possible spot of the room with his eyes and hands. Just to make sure the old man was down for good he crushed the bloodied ribcage of the former crazed beast, smashing him apart with Gregory’s boot and embedding his bones in his organs. With the enhanced ones, you could never be too sure they’re dead… [OOC] When responding to this post, Themistocles, please make sure to take into account my character’s 2nd special ability. He can spot shit the majority of highly trained others can’t. |
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| crazypyromaniac | Apr 20 2009, 05:03 AM Post #29 |
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Wait... I'm dead now, aren't I? |
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| Themistocles | Apr 20 2009, 04:33 PM Post #30 |
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OOC: No, Pyro, you're not dead. I'm really sorry, I completely forgot to respond to your post. I'll update for you later today. If you are wondering whether you were the woman in the cell, you're wrong. That wasn't you. For the people in the circle: Cyphon raised an interesting point to me today. So I will clarify: THE ARCHWAYS ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU. YOU CAN WALK THROUGH THEM! I personally thought it was kind of obvious. IC: Gregory's eyes had scoured the room, but found no sign of a camera anywhere along its walls. Even with his superior ability to discover details others easily missed, he could not see a single instrument to monitor what happened in the room. Abruptly he noticed a glimmer of silver. He looked at the mangled body of the woman on the floor, and saw that her eyes had remained open after her death. Her face was covered in her own blood, but he could still see what lay beneath it. Her irises seemed to lack natural color; they were silvery, and, upon closer examination, filled with interweaving metallic strands. Slowly and carefully, the small bits of metal inside her irises began to shift. Gregory saw with clarity that her eyes had been turned into machines, fusions of organic and artificial. The cameras were not on the walls; they were in her eyes. They were her eyes. It was terribly disconcerting to be watched by a dead body. But far worse when the corpse reacts to what it is watching. Suddenly, the eyes were faintly illuminated by some lights that must have been buried within the eyeballs themselves, and the mangled remnants of the body shuddered violently. It was some sort of electrical signal. The corpse had pivoted just so that they eyes were facing the three living people in the room. Then they saw the door. The entire wall straight ahead moved backward into the concrete like the door of a great vault, and the room seemed to elongate like a horizontal elevator shaft. Then, with a terrible shrieking groan of metal on metal, the wall slid aside at the end of what had become a long hallway. Through the hallway was a series of glass cubes that functioned as cells, with blood smeared on the glass and the metal floor. Each of the cubes contained prisoners, most of whom looked like they had been there for some time. One held a man with a cylinder carved through horizontally through his neck; above him, a mechanical arm held a blood-stained drill, which was obvious the cause of the unnatural wound. At the center of the room was a glass cube that contained a dark-haired woman that looked as if she had newly arrived (Pyro, that's you!). The room around her was similarly bloodstained, but there were no wounds visible on her person, and a number of wired electrodes were strewn across the floor. She looked dazed and confused, but had none of the same hysteria or madness they had seen earlier on; she was strangely calm. By the metal examining table at the center of the cube, a rack of vials and loaded syringes had been laid out. Even to those of them that were not very psionically sensitive, they could hear strange, alien whispers coming from the syringes, speaking in otherworldly languages about their darkest fears... OOC: This is where you can all spend some time interacting with one another. You know, character interaction? Then you can continue your effort to escape. Do whatever you want; the RP is constructed around what you do. |
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| FalloutJack | Apr 20 2009, 08:10 PM Post #31 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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Evan was gone from sight in the blink of an eye. At least, from the blink of other people's eyes. From his perspective, however, he didn't go anywhere in terms of actual physical movement. That that he could tell. Because, you see, while he stood stock still, his brain was tripping the light fantastic with more than he ever thought possible. Here is what happened... Doors, lots of them, right before his eyes. Only they weren't exactly doors so much as...well...portals. It was sort of what he'd asked for, only his will had apparently called upon so much more than he bargained for. They were all shimmering objects that opened up into things that he could and could not imagine, places and things that the human perception did not have enough faculties to understand, so it was transmitted to his brain weirdly. He didn't know if he was going mad or if they were trying to go sane. Either way, it was an extremely overwhelming event and he was forced to take it all in at an accelerated rate. He was seeing everywhere at once, regardless of whether he understood it all or not. Certain things rang familiar while alot of it did not. The dog he felt was Jim's Shadow, but he didn't know for sure. He saw...well now... I can see myself watching myself watching myself! And that didn't even MAKE SENSE. But then, what was sense? He was quickly finding out that everything he knows is wrong. Black is white, up is down, and short is long. And all Weird Al statements aside, he was realizing that the state of his understanding of the universe was limited to his own pre-conceived notions on how it all fit together, all of which was now making his head hurt. Excuse me, but I was told there wouldn't be math? Well, that's okay, sonny. Math is just a perception brought forth by human beings alone to try and make sense of things around them. Unfortunately, nothing in it has any relevence to the rest of the universe because the universe won't give a pair of dingo's kidneys about what a bunch of ape-descendent blow-hards think. The universe had fundamental laws, but their exact significance cannot be limited to the mind of one sort, because it is just not enough for a single form of being to say "This is how it is". That's NOT how it is. That's just how we SEE it. And Evan was seeing that the big picture was way bigger than even the greatest minds on Earth could ever see. Suck on that, Capital! Yeah...they couldn't here him, because he wasn't able to speak. He'd barely managed to squeak that out, mentally, as the world went ga-ga arond him. The point was that he was being flashed with so many things at once that his brain was being drowned by it, forcing him to tread water before he sank amidst the current of visions. Suddenly, without warning, it all ended...and he knew EXACTLY how Dominic Deegan felt. Well, that was one of his thoughts as everything seemed to cool down. Whatever happened, Evan lost balance and hit the floor...or whatever. Apparently, he'd been breathing heavily and he didn't even know. Since he was physically fit, though, he was only exhausted, not in any real danger. Evan stood up, looking around. Darkness...and a doorway. A single doorway. He was surrounded by nothing, he saw and felt nothing, and there was nobody here. The lights in the sky were gone and so was the stone circle. This place was void, plus him and one archway. It was cold, lacking in feeling and sensation. He had just consigned himself to pretty much...exactly what he wanted, in a way. He wanted a door, a portal of some kind. And after the whatever-it-was showed him all that it did, it manifested this single doorway. Evan thought about this, now that his brain had shifted out of neutral again. Okay, so... It's clear and obvious that the thing...reacted to me thinking at it. That's why I came here, though where here is...is nowhere. Because...why? Because I asked for a door, not a way. The Door is The Way, but I... I didn't ask for a desination! He slapped his palm in realization of this. He was so engrossed in making the thing work, he didn't consider what to make it DO with him. Alright then...let's try this. Evan passed on the thought to the doorway. Let's go see Shadow. In his mind, he raked his memory furiously until he recalled the black dog in the transparent cylinder. He envisioned that, and the room in question. That in mind, Even walked through the archway with hopes of being moved to where he wanted to go. Now, I'm thinking with Portals.. |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 20 2009, 08:43 PM Post #32 |
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Gregory whispered the abbreviated version of the orthodox prayer for the departed. The others could’ve seen his lips move, but they shouldn’t have been able to hear his whisper. He was relatively behind them, so unless they turned, they would see no mention of his silent prayer. “O God of spirits and of all flesh, Who hast trampled down death and overthrown the Devil, and given life to Thy world, do Thou, the same Lord, give rest to the souls of Thy departed servants in a place of brightness, a place of refreshment, a place of repose, where all sickness, sighing, and sorrow have fled away. Pardon every transgression which they have committed, whether by word or deed or thought. Amen.” The camera could easily fixate his speech though. If he found the owners of this place, it would be one less time he’d recite this prayer. It was a warning as well. He remembered the battles with the USR, but so did the Capital. Before that fateful day, they had sent this prayer to the Capital’s every office. They made the system bleed before, and since then the Capital was wary of them doing so again. He cared little for the politics of the Resistance and the State, but a little chaos was always a good thing during prison breaks. With this he closed the eyes of the corpse, the eyes that gazed upon them even in death. He applied more and more pressure until something inside snapped. An electric spark lit up and burned his hand ever so slightly. The eye of their holders was done for. He turned to face the doorway. Well… the opening. It wasn’t a door, but it was close enough. Whatever they were seeking was past that hallway. Gregory broke apart one of the weaker links in the chairs, then bent out a piece of metal until it broke off. He then picked up an acceptably sharp piece of glass, and, taking care not to cut himself, laid it within the curve of the metal piece. Ripping a long shred of cloth from the unused garb of the dead man, he wrapped the metal and glass together. They held tight. The metal protruded from the glass, and Gregory wrapped around that part for a makeshift handle. The whole construction was strange, but it held together strong. And it was sharp. Maybe he couldn’t cut armor with it, but he could definitely gain an edge on any more psycho old men they would have to face. After inspecting his dagger, he turned to the other men in the room. “Shall we step outside, comrades?” |
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| S. Puma | Apr 20 2009, 09:42 PM Post #33 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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(IC) Oslo had been watching the attack from the rear with an air of casual interest, stepping through each of the cells. He was ready to strike the man, who had somehow been given super-human prowess, but his allies had defeated him before he could strike. He looked to the very dead woman, then looked down the cell tunnel. "Dissapointing. Death is always a shame, my condolances. As for you, Gregory, ta! We shall progress." He looked back at Gregory to see the lights flashing in the woman's eyes. Realizing that something was wrong, he moved over to the old man, and stuck his hand into the bashed in face. Feeling something metal, he pulled it out to see the same flash as the woman. He repeated that with the corpse. "So the dead still have use to these people, they are always watching, even in the afterlife." He looked to the others. "You got your share, if you would, could you let me have mine?" He moved out in front of the others and progressed to the hall to a beautiful and stunned woman. Normally men would have gagged at the sight of her beauty, but Oslo remained ambivelant. However for some reason, a strange echo only appearing to Oslo seemed to sound, screaming to enjoy the woman's flesh. However it was extremely weak, a fringe thought, with less support than an elephant on a unicycle. Oslo simply unbound the woman's bonds and handed her the box of filled syringes. They were filled with many strange liquids, some even seemed to be screaming. This however seemed to have no effect on Oslo, and he gave the woman the syringes then looked to her with a straight blank face. "Hello. From what me and my colleagues have experienced in here, it would be best if you choose to arm yourself. Now, I do not have any practice in medication, but I myself know that it is not good to stick fluids into people that don't need them." Edited by S. Puma, Apr 21 2009, 06:50 PM.
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 20 2009, 10:27 PM Post #34 |
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Morphumax
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Jim was still staring at the broken watch when he noticed that it had gotten darker, as if there was something casting a shadow on the archway, on the circle. Jim looked up, but all he could see were the stars. Jim's eyes returned to the watch, or rather, where the watch had been. It was gone. In the corner of his eye, Jim saw a shimmer of gold. It came from the archway. It was the pocketwatch, hovering just inside of the door. No, hovering inside both doors. What's going on? Who created this illusion. Why? Could it be the key to getting out of here, to reaching Shadow? Jim looked down. There was a third watch. It was back in his hand, the damage was gone, not even a scratch remained. But how could that be? Jim slipped the watch back into his pocket, and walked to the closest of the archways. As he tried to grab one of the watches, the only thought on his mind was Shadow. He didn't even notice that Evan was gone... Shadow heard all of Jim's calls, listened to the pain, fear and confusin in them. But she couldn't respond. It must have been something the experimentors had given her. One of them walked up to her, injecting her with something. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last. Shadow finally managed to get through to Jim, but before she realized it, the connection was lost, and she heard Jim's frantic thoughts, once again, unable to do anything. A wave of anger washed over Shadow. It was not her own, but came from Jim. Shadow stared at the experimentors with hatred and distain for causing Jim so much pain...But she was powerless, the drugs prevented her from even reading the minds of the experimentors. Or was it that they lacked actual minds to be read, just mindless zombies created by the Capital to do it's bidding? Whatever the answer, Shadow was trapped, with nothing but Jim's pained and confused thoughts to keep her company... (OOC: Them, you don't have a problem with the portion dealing with Shadow do you?) ~Bob |
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| Cyphon | Apr 21 2009, 06:06 AM Post #35 |
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Cyphon observing that the others had left the area simply strolls through the archway hoping to get lucky and go somewhere. |
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| crazypyromaniac | Apr 21 2009, 07:35 AM Post #36 |
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"Hello. From what me and my colleagues have experienced in here, it would be best if you choose to arm yourself. Now, I do not have any practice in medication, but I myself know that it is not good to stick fluids into people that don't need them." "Thank you, kind sir. I am Loida. Who might you people be?" Under pretext of conversation, she blasted everything to the limit of her range, Scanning for something, anything, and then sent out a specific Scan of the people in her cell. That done, she Sends out, to the other inmates near her, Hope, Anger, and Vengeance opportunity. Then, verbally, she says "come with us. we'll get you out of her to your loved ones, and get you vengeance upon the capital for hurting you!" . |
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| Themistocles | Apr 25 2009, 09:47 PM Post #37 |
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OOC: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been kind of busy, so I didn't have much time to sit down and contemplate what dramatic turn of events would take place next. Mike, Kranford, Puma, and Pyro: you're cooped in a couple of cells, but you practically haven't spoken to one another at all. What happened to character interaction? Mike brought up a good point with me: how can character interaction take place when you can only post once per update? My answer: YOU CAN POST MULTIPLE TIMES PER UPDATE; THERE'S NO LIMIT. Moving on. IC: The Cell [Ricardo]: Ricardo quickly crawled across the metal floor, which squeaked in some areas under the surfaces of his hands. He had become adept at this four-legged movement ever since the scientists had surgically altered his legs and arms, so that his knee joints were bent in on themselves and angled strangely. He was able to quickly scamper like a rodent, easily navigating his way through the obstacle courses set out for him. He could still use his hands rather skillfully, but could not walk upright. He didn't mind; he had long since learned that whatever the Experimenters did to their patients was irreversible, and they would have to simply accept their newly modified bodies, like it or not. After months of running through extensive obstacle courses and being changed into whatever monstrosity they had in mind for him, Ricardo had finally been released back to his cell to recuperate, his body in constant, agonizing pain. They had done more tests on him here, played with his mind--and he let them, because he knew he was powerless to stop them. He knew they had done far worse things to some subjects. He shivered when he thought of the woman who had had nanotechnology implanted into her eyes, so they functioned like cameras. He had finally escaped his cell, rather easily--he was sure the scientists had intended for him to escape--and come to this large complex of metal and glass. He was malnourished and horribly weakened, so he would do anything he could to get his hands on some sustenance. That was what the cameras were watching for, but it didn't matter anymore; he had to get some form of food or he would die. Then he saw the new people. There were four of them, three male and one female. He didn't care about who they were; he needed to know if they had something for him to eat. It was unlikely, as the three men were garbed in white hospital gowns. He saw that the woman was dressed in normal clothes, even if they were very ragged and blood-soaked. But it had no pockets, so she probably would not have any more on her than the rest. Then he saw the syringes. They were speaking to him. He had to get a hold of them, or he would... he would... [the PCs]: Oslo, Gregory, Kranford, and Loida stood there, not sure of what to say or what to do. Then there was a low hissing sound from behind them, a frothy, animalistic growl, and they turned to see a man with blood all down his face and clothes. His legs and arms were deformed and twisted so that he moved like a four-legged animal. He--it--was eying the syringes with a terrible, wide-eyed stare. In a moment he was upon them, leaping viciously at them like a frog. He flew past them, knocking down Gregory in the process. He had completely missed the syringes, but he was not done; he turned to face them, mouth foaming, his emaciated body poised to lunge again. The Circle Jim, Evan, and Cyphon were almost through the archways, each seeing them in their own distorted view. The dimensions were flying by, intermingling and replacing one another, and space itself was turned inside out. The doorways became many, then one. Their feet were at the thresholds of the doors, and then... Black. They woke groggily, side by side. They were in the stone circle, but it was not the same. The sun was up and shining, casting a yellowish light over the stones. The archways looked ruined and ancient, with moss running down their sides. The stone circle itself was cracked and ridden with plants. It was crumbling. In the distance they could see the silhouettes of skyscrapers, and trees on the other side. No sound came from the archways; they were silent. A number of electrodes led from each of their heads to a central conduit, which in turn was connected to the archways themselves. Several large machines lay off to the side. It was apparent that the stone circle's walls were too high to climb over. The only place they could go was through a narrow opening that led through the walls, and into a long metal hallway. A single guard stood on watch there, a rifle in hand. He was clearly not professional; he looked distracted and unintelligent, and had not even noticed that they had awoken. It was almost as if their captors had meant for them to have an easy way out. A table with a computer sitting at its center was visible through the opening. OOC: This doesn't mean the whole thing with the doorways was a hallucination. You will see later what happened; the archways do return later on, in all their David-Bowman-esque glory. For now, you'll have to adapt to your new environment. |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 25 2009, 10:37 PM Post #38 |
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Gregory saw one of their group, the one calling himself Oslo, smash through a window to rescue a girl. He plugged all of the cables out and took her out of her cell. “Hey, what are you doing?” The woman looked well, her clothing still intact. There was blood on her, but none of it was her blood. “What are you doing! Why are you taking her out of the cage? After what that old man did, we can’t be sure that anyone here is sane. Look at her! The way she looks, the way she handles herself… The only free cheese is in the mousetrap. Especially in our situation, we shouldn’t allow ourselves to free just anyone. Even on the odd chance she is sane, she’ll hamper us. And how do you know those things didn’t belong in her?” Gregory paused for a while, and the woman took that chance to speak. As she spoke, he felt something cruise through his brain and poke around for info. “Something is wrong with that woman. She’s trying to fuck with our minds and I don’t want- Gregory was cut off by a large blood soaked man jumping on him, or rather past him. The soldier was lucky he held his makeshift blade in his hand; as the creature leaped, he drove it through it’s neck and into it’s ribcage, where the knife remained. This did not seem like it was enough for the creature, as it poised itself for another jump, foaming out of its mouth and bleeding profusely. It seemed he missed the artery in the neck, but not by much. The blood was filling the floor. And even if he did miss, the creature wouldn’t survive long with a knife sticking out of its chest. It would not have even enough strength to lift itself in the air again. The creature fell, and as it fell, it drove the knife deeper through it. The glass ripped open the creatures back and jutted out, stuck on a rib and not letting the beast fall further. Edited by MikeV37, Apr 25 2009, 10:38 PM.
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| EmperorBobV | Apr 25 2009, 11:26 PM Post #39 |
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Morphumax
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Jim awoke shortly before the others...again. And again, his thoughts went to Shadow before anything else. And still, he could not reach her, no matter how he tried. And try he did. He put so much effort into reaching her, that, once again, he was completely unaware of his surroundings. He did not see that his 'friends' had returned, nor that the circle had changed, aged. He did not feel the electrodes attached to his head, nor did he see the skyscrapers in the distance. He did not see the archways, nor did he sense the guard. He did not even notice how incredibly bright it was now, nor that he was staring directly at the sun. No, he did not notice any of these things. What he did see, was hallways, endless hallways, filled with doors. What he heard was a voice, so faint that he couldn't make out any words. But he heard it none the less. What he felt was smooth tiles beneath his feet. But no matter which hallway he took, or which door he opened, he couldn't seem to get any closer to her, or make the voice any louder. It was as though something was moving her away just as quickly as he moved toward her. Suddenly he saw her. She was at the other end of a hallway. There were several men with her, men he had never seen before, men he vowed to see only once more... The men grew brighter...no, everything got brighter. Soon Jim couldn't see anything but the light. It took Jim several moments to realize that the vision had faded, and he was staring at the sun. He quickly looked away, to where the others lay. One of them must have moved... "Wake up. It's time we get going. We are no good lazing about here. We've got puzzles to solve, people to kill, things to blow up." Jim said, grinning for the first time since his arrival in the Circle, before nudging them both with his foot. "And most importantly, a friend to..." Jim trailed off, as he finally noticing how much different everything was. Not only was it the middle of the day, but the archways had aged greatly, and the voices which had been emanating from them were gone. There was grass on the ground, and a crack in the surrounding wall. "...retrieve." Jim sat down. What's going on? Was all of that just a dream? Jim turned his gaze to the guard, and stared, waiting for the others to get up. Once again, he took out his pocket watch and traced over the design. Suddenly, he looked down at the watch. There was something different about the design. It was no longer faded... ~Bob Edited by EmperorBobV, Apr 25 2009, 11:28 PM.
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| S. Puma | Apr 25 2009, 11:52 PM Post #40 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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OOC: I would respond to pyro, but I lost her at the whole Hope, Anger, Vengance thing. I'm more passive, responding to others. I will try to start a converstion here for the sake of it, something productive..... IC: "Some things just seem to be carnal, Gregory. Plus the fact that she does not look quite as warn as our last encounters. Sure, the man had super-human strengh and speed, but he still looked to be an old and abused man. If she does turn out to be a psychopath I will indeed let you hurt me as retrebution. As for the syringes...." Oslo was cut off when a beast man pounced on Gregory, the Russian was quick to drive the make-shift shank into the thing, missing the vital artery in the neck but hitting the chest. The beast was fataly wounded, and due to it's position could not stand up like the others. Taking this cue Oslo picked the beast up by the forelimbs and slammed it to a wall; sure, it may not have had a long time to live, but it could still talk and information would be vital to the current situation. "I want to know where we are and who, or what are you." He broke the thing's pinkie, and it roared in pain. Oslo had been on both sides of this situation. Torture tests, a thing that he had learned rather late at the place he was taught. This thing was taking it quite worse than the last person he did it to: a green metaliod character who barely flinched. But that was then. The thing was losing blood fast. It was weak. Oslo kept it in the position against the wall. It was staring at Oslo unervingly, but it was breathing. Oslo decided it was worth trying to loosen tensions. "While we wait for this thing to talk," said Oslo as he broke the thing's index finger, "I think we should figure out where this place is and how we got here. I was walking down and alley when I was jumped by a gang of men. I fought them off but one of them put a wet cloth over my mouth and I blacked out. How about you guys?" He then noticed the woman he freed again. "Oh, by the way, I am Oslo. The quick Russian goes by Gregory and that is Kranford the Butcher. You are?" |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | Apr 25 2009, 11:56 PM Post #41 |
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The Count
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"You have to trust someone, otherwise we're alone, and if we don't work together to get out of here, we're going to die alone. Has she tried to harm us? No," said Kranford as he moved up to Greg. "No, she hasn't attacked us... yet. If you do anything that I construe as detrimental to my getting out of here in one piece, I won't hesitate to snap your neck, fracture your skull, or kill you in numerous more unpleasant ways." spoke the assassin as he looked around. He left the broken light-bulb tube behind. His hands and even his very body were his best weapons at his disposal. "Once we get out of here, I know a nice little place we can go and gear up. A lovely little establishment, but first thing's first," he said as he looked around down any hallways. "We gotta get out of here." |
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| S. Puma | Apr 26 2009, 12:05 AM Post #42 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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Oslo looked over to the mercinary, who had to a degree taken his side in his actions. He thne explained that he had a place for them to go once they get out of here, but their escape was the primary motive. He looked to Kranford. "As you can tell, I'm on it by trying to get information," explained Oslo even though the looks of it were seemingly useless. Oslo broke the beast's other pinkie. He looked back to Kranford. "Do you remember what happened before you ended up here?" |
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| Cyphon | Apr 26 2009, 06:35 AM Post #43 |
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Cyphon awakening to being nudged with a foot jumps up and tears off the electrodes. He says "come on" to the person who nudged him and runs down the hallway and tackles the guard grabbing any and all weapons he may have after driving his hand through his head. He checks on the other person. "Hey is the other guy awake?" He stops and waits for a response from either of them. |
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| crazypyromaniac | Apr 27 2009, 07:31 PM Post #44 |
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"STOP, OSLO! Can't you see your hurting the poor animal! There are better ways to get him to talk. For instance, if we give him what he wants, the needles, and then see if he'll cooperate. He might just tell us what we want if we give him what he wants. Besides, he's obviously not a threat. ooc-- Themistocles, if he was feeling desperation, i would have felt that. if you don't want me to have this sort of character, i will be happy to create a new one, but please take into consideration my abilities? |
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| MikeV37 | Apr 27 2009, 08:42 PM Post #45 |
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Gregory stood up dusted himself off. He gave a quick glance at the creature. "Not a threat MY ASS! He just tackled me!”-In a hushed tone he continued- “ Durnaya suka lezet a sama ne ponimayet y vasshe blyat chto za hyinya tut..." He continued the long line of Russian expletives. He walked up to the creature, still more than slightly pissed off. The creature was writhing in pain, so he grabbed it by the throat and made it stare into his eyes. “Now see here, sukin syin. You have here, two options laid out in front of you. You can either tell the good lady what we want to know, get what you want and die, or tell the scary big guy what we want to know, have your guts ripped out… and die. Now, which will it be?” If the creature didn’t pay necessary amounts off attention, Gregory slapped it across the face, repositioned its face so it couldn’t move, and then continued his rant. He grabbed at his knife. Stopping for a second, Gregory then took his knife by the handle and wiggled it a bit, to, you know, “quicken its thought process”. Edited by MikeV37, Apr 27 2009, 08:44 PM.
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| Themistocles | Apr 27 2009, 09:05 PM Post #46 |
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OOC: This interrogation thing looks like it's getting interesting. I'm sorry, I can't post the thing's response right now, but I will tomorrow afternoon. Then you can continue beating it up. Some advice: as you have probably guessed, the syringes yield... interesting results. Be cautious what you do with them. They are useful, but I'm going to let you figure out how to use them through trial and error. Seriously, when medical needles start sending out psychic whispers and stuff, you know they're not just flu shots. |
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| FalloutJack | Apr 30 2009, 03:56 PM Post #47 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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The world shut itself down. Just when things were starting to get both interesting and really fucking dangerous, the world winked out. Alright, it wasn't like he had much 'world' left TO lose, but he was hoping for something along the lines of being able to materialize where he'd intended to. Would've scared the hell out of anyone there, and been a great deal of fun. But that was never meant to be, at least not now. Suddenly derailed, he felt...groggy, awakening from a slumber though his eyes refused to open just yet. It was one of those things, ya know? You all have mornings like this. Wait, morning? That wasn't... Why did he feel daylight? Was he knocked out all night? Okay, he could understand that happening, what with the way that his brain was hurting. They only hurtled the whole of the cosmos at him, right? Right. So, what's with this- "Wake up. It's time we get going. We are no good lazing about here. We've got puzzles to solve, people to kill, things to blow up." Rude awakening. He barely felt the nudge because his brain was still swimming in the aftermath, and it was only when the other guy spoke that he began to fully snap back to reality. Evan sat bolt upright and stared, breathing heavily as though coming back from a nightmare. Why? Because it was still fresh in his mind and refreshing at a terrifying rate sometimes. It was all in his head, still jumbling around and spilling out at random intervals. Something incredibly potent had been beams into his head. He didn't doubt that for a sec- What the hell is this? He reached up and pulled off the electrodes, starting with the ones on his frontal lobe. Monitered...? When did THAT happen? Ignoring the others, he went from the leads to the machines to the archway, following the cords the whole way. So, in a way, he was right. A puzzle. Someone wanted them to have some kind of a breakthrough, or a breakdown. Evan wondered which of those really occurred. He looked around, not standing yet. Same place, different time, and more visible. His head was free! He could go places with it! Wunderbar! He started to stand, then realized...he wasn't wearing his glasses. Hmmm. Must've fallen off...ah, there we go. Pockets. Evan stood up. "We're not monsters, Jim. You kill when you need to, not because you like to. Oh, and one other thing?" He made sure he had Jim's attention. "I saw Shadow. Was going to go to her, but the portal wouldn't let me." Wait, what? For those of you keeping score, Evan just blatently told Jim that HE had had visions of Shadow and some business of a portal, which was a little different from what the others had gone through. You could say that Evan was still disoriented in his own way. The force of multi-dimensional craziness had been a hammer to the brain and he was reeling from the blow. There will be nonsense spouted here and there. Eyeing the guard, Evan suddenly had a funny smile on his face as he pushed up his glasses. "Anyway, we have to handle this guy, and I have an idea. You guys gank 'im as soon as he's distracted. This ought to be good..." And that was when the guard would have THIS SONG beamed into his head...at a high volume. |
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| crazypyromaniac | Apr 30 2009, 04:59 PM Post #48 |
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"Gregory, STOP! Then, to the beast, she Projects calm and reassurance. "Here, it's okay now, you'll get what you want, just tell the big man what he wants, and everything will be alright."(the big man is gregory)."He won't hurt you, he's just angry right now. You gave him quite a scare and injured his pride. He's just acting the tough guy to make himself feel better." all this was said in a reassuring tone of voice, as she knelt down by the box, picked up one of the syringes, (being careful not to touch the tip), and starts walking toward him. "What's your name? I'll bet it's a real nice name, isn't it? Nice and pretty, aren't you?"
Edited by crazypyromaniac, Apr 30 2009, 05:00 PM.
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| S. Puma | May 4 2009, 10:10 PM Post #49 |
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HOME DEPOT MAN!!!
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(ooc) will we go on soon? |
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| Themistocles | May 7 2009, 08:54 PM Post #50 |
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The Circle The people in the Circle were tense, still not used to their sudden change of surroundings. Cyphon quickly took the guard down and found the an unmarked rifle. The guard was a surprisingly easy target, as if it had been meant to be taken down... Jim looked down at his watch, realizing that it had changed and was no longer faded or broken. It was miraculous. And Evan had claimed he had seen Shadow. But Evan was preoccupied, trying to discern the change in surroundings. He had been so close to making a breakthrough with the doorways... The power flickered. The sun died. Black. The Cell The deformed man was panting, trying to determine what path he should take. He could so easily escape their grasp, but he knew they would easily take him down. The syringes beckoned to him, speaking with voices of their own, hideous voices, horrible voices... Alien voices. They were going to torture him, he knew. He had been tortured before, but it had been months since he had last been tormented by machines, and he had become accustomed to having thoughts other than terror and agony. The Russian was about to attack again, he knew it. He could already feel the pain of the blow, even as the woman's soothing voice filled his mind and softened it... he had not hear a human voice in so long, much less a kind one. The cameras were watching, he knew. They always watched. Watcher watched. A switch was flipped. The lights went out. Black. OOC: Chrome, I'll introduce your character when the lights come back on. I can't introduce him in the dark, that's for sure. Everyone else: DO SOMETHING DRAMATIC. EDIT (Bob): fixed the bold tag. Edited by EmperorBobV, May 8 2009, 02:28 AM.
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| crazypyromaniac | May 8 2009, 11:30 AM Post #51 |
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OOC-- Hmmm, something dramatic, you say? I think i can manage that... IC-- The lights went dark. All was black. Loida's first reaction was one of sheer, unbridled terror and panic. Unfortunatley for everyone within range, she had not shut down her projection of calm to the horrible mutant beast, and as such, she lost control of projection, making everyone else feel the exact same thing. Which just so happened to be sheer, unbridled terror and panic. On a debilitating level. Then, regaining control, she sighs, and closes down ALL projection, and starts to think about how to get herself out of this and not killed. The russian was obviously much more likely to kill first and ask questions of the corpse, and Oslo seemed the same way. The other one, she didn't know much about, but would assume the same thing as the others. "Ah, hell" she sighs. |
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| Cyphon | May 10 2009, 09:39 AM Post #52 |
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"What the Hell!" Cyphon runs into the narrow crack in the wall. He moves along at high speeds to observe and once he saw what was there returned to the other people while very agitated. "Come on lets get out of this shithouse." He appears to be disturbed by something. Edited by Cyphon, May 10 2009, 09:40 AM.
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| FalloutJack | May 11 2009, 08:23 AM Post #53 |
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Awesome to the Badass to the Chaotic Mastermind.
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Okay, so...the guard was now out cold. Either that or dead, and Evan wasn't finding out which. Pushing up his glasses, he began to hum the song that he'd projected into the guy's head, since he had now more or less gotten it stuck there for the time being. This was okay because otherwise...he would've had to think of something even LESS constructive in order to keep his head at the moment. Not that he was falling apart at the seams, but just that the fabric of the cosmos had torn asunder at the small but vivid request for a way out of here. Ironically, he received just that, and now they had one subdued guard, one rifle in the hands of a definite fighter, and- *Fizzle...* -one abrupt power outage. Fuck. Oh lovely. The lights are out. Lemme see here... No lighter, matches, or anything that glows in the dark. So...wait. That wasn't the sun, then? Must be still a little frazzled... Okay, deep thoughts. Deep...simple...calming...thou- It didn't work. -Boldly going where- -Washoi! Washoi! Washoi!- -My shorts are alive!- -Foible: The mid-back part of a one-sided sword.- -Heaven help us all...- -Flung right into the Deadlights- -Fiffy million light-years a sec- -Good to the last drop!- -We have lift-off. Repeat- -What would I do without my wonderful towel?- -We're off to see the wizard...- -Millennium hand and shrimp!- MY BRAIN IS NOT MADE OF ORIGAMI, DAMMIT!!!!! Okay, all better now. It'd taken him a moment to get over that. The lights going out had sent him a dose of adrenaline, trying to get him to think too hard when he was still feeling as though his mind had tripped the light fantastic in the way that only the Great Old Ones do. In any case, Evan forced himself to calm down again, and began to search for the way out, which he did by almost walking into the wall at the edge. He kept his senses alive as he tried to remember the layout of the place, keeping his psychic senses attuned like a radar if he could...provided nothing was blocking him this time. Where the hell was the way out? He kept mostly quiet, though, just in case. Because to him...this sounded EXACTLY like a good way to ambush and kill them all. In the dark... |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | May 11 2009, 10:15 PM Post #54 |
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The Count
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Kranford calmly put himself against a wall, set to a fighting stance. He was a bit annoyed at the lights going out, but that would have made things a little too easy. "Typical," he thought to himself as he listened with his ears, ready to hear the slightest footstep. His career had led to a dislike of surprises. Almost a primal hatred of them. When surprises happened, things would never happen according to plan. He was obviously here as the result of a surprise, which proved his point. |
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| crazypyromaniac | May 12 2009, 11:16 AM Post #55 |
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i really wish people wouldn't ignore what i post.... |
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| Cyphon | May 25 2009, 12:33 PM Post #56 |
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Cyphon attempts to locate his companions in the dark. "hey you guys alright, I'm not sure what the hell is going on, but we gotta haul our asses out of the shithouse. I'm seriously tired of all these tricks and suprises."
Edited by Cyphon, May 25 2009, 04:43 PM.
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| Themistocles | Jun 2 2009, 06:11 PM Post #57 |
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OOC: I'm really sorry for not updating for so long. I haven't been on the forum much the last few weeks, but I will be on more now. I hope you haven't all lost all faith in Epitaph. Chrome, I put your character in. IC: The lights turned back on. Everything was illuminated to a degree that was blinding. Eight test subjects. At first there were seven: six men, one woman. Jack Crawford. Gregory Rodovskyi. Oslo Thistes. Evan Ramsey. Jim Wood. Loida Gervin. Cyphon. There was an eighth person present as well. He was a tall Caucasian the cameras identified as Felix Johnson, though his name was not known to the other test subjects. Of the eight subjects, there were five psionics. They were all capable, and had proven that they were capable with their bodies. Now their minds had to be tested. Their resourcefulness and creativity, their logic and their ability to defy it. Most of this testing would be done after they "escaped" the facility. But it would begin very soon. The eight people had been heavily disoriented by the complete darkness they had found themselves in. Now the lights had come back on, and they realized something very disconcerting: They were in a different room. The room was large and shaped like a perfect cube. The walls were pale gray and crusted over with great streaks of blood. One entire wall of the room was a giant mirror. The mirror seemed to be distorting their images in a way geometry could not describe, but it was perfectly flat. Their thoughts were reflected back to them. An assortment of large weapons lay in a pile ten feet from where they stood. The deformed man they had found, the one who had sought after the strange syringes, was gone. The syringes, however, were still there, sitting perfectly unscathed in the center of the room. Standing behind them was a woman, the same woman that Oslo, Crawford, and Gregory had seen die in the first cell. The woman with the camera chips implanted in her eyes. Pale, featureless faces stared out at them from behind the mirror, reaching ghostly hands out to touch them. Voices echoed form within, but they were too faint to understand. Crawford was sure he could see Zoe's face among them... |
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| Kranford T. Butcher | Jun 2 2009, 10:03 PM Post #58 |
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The Count
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Kranford looked at the faces; many of them he instantly recognized as those he had killed; those that he believed were a danger to the world. He then thought for a moment. Deciding to test a hypothesis of his out, Kranford suddenly thought of the Capital, burning to the ground, annihilated, destroyed in every way possible. His thoughts then shifted to Zoe and the day he'd almost lost her, when the street tester grasped her arm and shot her full of chems. He dropped to his knees as he thought of his failure to protect the love of his life, his failure to be by her side at the time. "It's amazing how one little decision will make such a massive difference," the assassin thought to himself as he got back to his feet. That was when his thoughts turned to the pulverized heap of mush that was the street tester that had shot her full of the jungle juice. Kranford's revenge on the Capital had started with him, and it would end when the entire Capital was burned to the ground. |
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| Cyphon | Jun 2 2009, 10:58 PM Post #59 |
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Cyphon, in his typical weapon=good mentaity arms himself form the weapon pile in the room. (Rifle and large pistol if they're there if not whatever.) Points weapons at people who weren't in circle with him. "Any of you crazies care to explain what the hell is going on here. I'm damn tired of this shit, and somebody better have some answers." (No he will not shoot at any of you unless you attack) Then he gets an idea. He fires into the mirrors on the wall to see just what they do. He then grabs one of the syringes and stabs it into the woman with cameras in her eyes arm to get a reaction. (I don't know why I just felt like doing that) |
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| Chrome | Jun 3 2009, 07:52 PM Post #60 |
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Felix blinked when the lights came back on, then looked around. He took his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes a bit, and then replaced them. He looked around in the room he was in, and saw that he was no longer alone. He spun around to find he was in a room he had never seen before, one wall made up of a mirror. There were faces within the mirror, and they seemed to be reaching right out of the mirror itself. He heard one of the others who were in the room with him. "Any of you crazies care to explain what the hell is going on here. I'm damn tired of this shit, and somebody better have some answers." That person was standing by a weapon pile, and Felix moved towards it as well. He rooted through it and found two Rugers, they both had six shots in them, 12 in all. He looked around but couldn't find any more shells. Felix twirled the revolvers around his fingers using the trigger guard, and then put one of them in his previously empty holster. Felix stood up keeping one of the revolvers in his hand. He looked around, and then saw the one who had spoken before jammed a syringe into the arms of a woman who is in the room. "Jesus! What the hell are you doing?" Felix said and went over and took the syringe out of the woman's arm and tossed it across the room. He turned to the rest of the group then as well. "On second thought, who in God's name are all of you? Where are we? And WHY are you here?!" |
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7:13 PM Jul 10