NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I've been reading this story for English class, a rather interesting short one called "The Most Dangerous Game." In turn, all my friends have picked up an interest for "Battle Royale". I'm mixing some elements of each together and seeing how it goes. Let's get this rolling... after this post, any characters you choose to use are all yours, but there will only be one competitor per nation. Anyone using puppet nations and caught is kicked out of the RP.

IC:

You wake up one early March morning and look at the clock. It reads about 9:58 A.M. It's a cold day, and it's raining steadily outside. You get up, scratch your sides, and do the traditional morning routine: sh*t, shower, shave, etc. After spending a half-hour doing so or what-not, you go outside into the rain in your pajamas, going to get the paper and settle in for another long day of nothing. Saturday's, a perrenial favorite.

As you pick up the paper, you head back inside, and start to make some coffee and warm up some toast. You open up to the "Special Interest" section, a personal favorite. After browsing through numerous senseless advertisements and offers, you come across one that catches your eye.

Are you looking for a way to get rich quick and gain significant property value in the Caribbean? Are you fearless, fit, athletic, and capable of surviving in a hazardous environment for several days without fail?

The Hunt is beginning. Go to www.TheHunt.com for more information.

OOC: Fake website.

IC: You get up from the table and wander over to your computer. You turn it on and wait for a few minutes to load up. It asks for your password, and you enter it: password. The main screen loads. You pull up the internet explorer and head to the website, TheHunt.com. There are several links: rules and requirements, island guide, prize, contact information, and FAQ. You open up the rules page.

1. In The Hunt, all weapons found on the island are permitted. All traps that can be designed or utilized on the island will be permitted.

2. All competitors must be in top physical condition, and have an IQ of 125 or above. Extensive environmental knowledge is required. This is a game of survival.

3. Players must be morally flexible.

4. The last player standing wins The Hunt. The objective is to eliminate the other players. Further details provided on the island.

5. There will be no way off the island once you arrive. You are bound by contract to the island until The Hunt has ended and you are permitted to leave.

6. Owners of The Hunt aren't responsible for you. Should you perish by due cause or by intention on the island, the owners hold no responsibility whatsoever.

You open up the contact information, thinking "this sounds interesting." You send an email and submit your application.

-

A few days later, you wake up. It's 6:12 A.M. You head out to check your mail, and to your surprise, a letter is there regarding The Hunt. You open it, and out falls a plane ticket. You pick it up eagerly. An additional letter says that in one week you will be flown to the island.

-

One week from that day, you travel from your hometown to the island over an 8 hour period. Several people are in the plane with you. You have no clue how many will be there when you land.

Later in the day, you feel the plane start to descend, and then land on a small floating strip off the island. You step out, and a ferry is waiting for you. Out in the distance is the island, heavily covered in jungle. You enter the ferry, and there you are asked to sign a contract, along with everyone else. Not thinking, no one bothers to read the contract and signs arbitrarily. No one looks at the warnings regarding their life being put in danger.

Gradually, you arrive on the island. Positioned on a small cove is a cave. It's been hollowed out and made into a modern day bunker. You enter, and a man with a warm face greets you all. He's maybe about 28, and wearing jungle fatigues and has a Sig-555 slung around his back. In the back, there's the baying of hunting dogs.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says audibly. 'I am the previous champion of The Hunt. It's my duty, as bound by contract, to start this competition up yearly. To this date over 8 years, I have not lost. You will all be competing against each other up here. Allow me to elaborate on what The Hunt is about.

"Many of you came here aware, I'm sure, that none of you might come out alive, correct?"

Out of the crowd, screams of "what the Hell" could be heard and many people jumped up in rage.

"You're bound by contract now. You overreact before the game and I have full authority to shoot you. You're on my island, and you will adhere to the rules of the contract. The goal of The Hunt, my friend, is simple. To be the last one standing. But The Hunt, in itself, is unique. At any one time, several players will be randomly selected and given a knife, food for 3 days, and camouflage. They will go out into the woods and be the hunted. Another player, selected at random, will be given any gun of his or her choice, and the same outfitting of the other players. They are the hunter. The hunter hunts and kills the hunted. It gets better, trust me.

"When you are killed, you are terminated, but if you survive in the wild for 3 days, you get to return to base camp, in example, this bunker, and select a weapon to combat the hunter in the wild. The winner of this combat comes back. The loser does not. What if a group survives for three days? The hunter had best watch his back. A group will be hunting him.

"The island is useful in many ways, but I advise you to avoid the southwest region. There are numerous cliffs and quicksand pits. I think that should be all. I will permit 3 days of partying and relaxing before we start the game. You will be treated like kings at base camp. Outside of base camp, you will not. Any questions? No? Then let's get some dinner."

The man turns around, leaving you sitting shocked in the boat with all the others. He seemed so calm, cool, and collected. You almost wonder what sick disease in his head makes him do this, but bound by contract and fear of pursecution off the island, you must hunt. If you don't hunt, you will die.

-

OOC: People, start joining. You may take control of your characters in whatever unspecified amounts you wish. Let The Hunt begin!

A Man is no Man till he has hunted another. This was the moto of the ICMC Sniper Scout Unit. And Jeff Hobert was once part of this unit. he had spent several years hunting other humans for pay, and from behind the scope mounted on his M40A4, he had ended the lives of over 215 people, in both war time and peace. He had no qualms with killing.

The invatation had intriguied him, and he responded promptly. Days later, he found himself on an island, hearing how soon he would either be hunter or hunted. He was fine with it.

He listened to the speech, and simply noted key points. He stayed calm as others became upset at the possibility of death or having to kill. He had done it enough times, pulling the trigger was second nature to him. And he had knocked on death's door, spit in death's face, then walked away.

He looked around the room to see what else he could determine.

Jeff Smith sat on a seat on the boat, along with everyone else.
I will shoot him before he shoots me part of the marines saying, of which he had been apart of. When he heard about the people being picked out for guns, or a knife, he hoped he would get a gun. Far more easier to kill, he had used a knife plenty of times before, when he was a Freelancer. In jungles to, secret ops doing their things, and out of no where would come this man, shooting away at them with P-40, then once out of a round he would revert to the knife. But with the knife it got messy, he would get mad becuasse his camo would be blood stained, and he would smeel of it, there fore increasing his chance of being caught.
He was the first to stand up, and the first to leave the boat, hje was hungry, and he hoped there would be meat.

OOC: Let's see... so far, both players have a great deal of military experience. I wonder if I'll be the only one to contribute a basically ordinary citizen?
Which isn't to say he's harmless, of course....
IC:
Lor Kedrak bore the expression of shock and horror common on the faces of many of his companions -competitors-, but only because he preferred to be underestimated. He had been expecting something like this since he first looked at the rules. Lor wasn't worried; he had little to lose, and no fear of death.
Life amongst the VerDa-Khar had always been hard, and it hadn't gotten any easier when Kir became chief. He had become Dictator as well, ruling with an iron fist, and had ordered the tribe to migrate out of VerDa. (Many believed he had ordered the move because he feared to remain within High Chief ZarIn's reach after siezing power, but such theories were not spoken of in public.) Now, Kir's uniformed policemen were everywhere, and the Secret Police were believed to be even more pervasive. Nobody could commit a crime without getting caught... but murder wasn't against the law. Kir believed that struggle kept people strong.
When Lor was ten years old, his brother killed a neighbor in a duel. The larger family of the slain boy had come seeking vengeance, and only Lor had escaped alive. He lived for months in the woods, surviving on what he could catch or acquire with hand made tools. Finally he had returned, armed with a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a short spear; he had driven his enemies from their home, and killed most of them. Enough had escaped, however, that his family's honor was not restored. He needed money to hunt them down, and he would remain a virtual outcast until the last of them was dead. Such stories as his are all too common, in Kharrol.
Lor noted with carefully hidden interest the ones who showed no alarm at the Hunter's announcement. These people were dangerous... though some of the others might be more dangerous yet.
After a moment's pause, Lor stood unsteadily. Being careful to look like one in a state of shock, he clambered out of the boat and headed after the previous champion, and those of the contestants who had gotten out ahead of him.

Description:
Like most VerDa, Lor Kedrak is over 6 feet in height, and has an athletic build. His skin is medium/light in shade; his medium brown hair, tied behind his head, falls past his shoulders. His eyes are gray. His hands and arms are decorated with a number of tattooed VerDa symbols, in the tradition of the VerDa-Khar; his face has several as well. He is dressed in standard Kharrol clothing: soft shoes, tied in such a way that the laces don't flap noisily, loose fitting brown pants, a cloth belt, a dull green shirt with no buttons, and a gray coat that goes down to about a hand's length above his knees.

OOC: Wow, a civilian... well, the 8-year champion is my guy, so I figure we ought to do this. By the way, I'm closing the RP in 4 days to keep it on a realistic time-table, because that's when we'll be doing the real fighting.

IC: Robert Steinhauser was walking along the narrow corridors of the underground bunker. By now, the people at the ship had calmed down quite a bit and looked more placid. A good sign, considering he wouldn't have to kill any of them... yet.

He snickered as he headed into a photo-copying room and took out a sheet of paper. He placed it face down on it and started to print out copies. Equipment lists, inventory, etc. was all posted up on the wall, and he started to look over it, his eyes occasionally reverting to a map of the island. As the copies finished, he picked them up and headed out. A man was walking by outside, one of the personnel. He gave him an order to go and round up the arrivals and to bring them to the mess hall. He also wanted him to order the chefs to prepare the traditional arrival meal.

It was a good thing that the underground bunker was large enough to house a small army. The crowd looked rather big when they arrived. There would be plenty of game to hunt on the island this time around.

-

A staff personnel member, dressed in khaki, came out onto the deck where the boat was along with the arrivals.

"Will you all please follow me to the mess hall?" He said, turning around and starting to leave the docking area. "It's a tremendous underground bunker and you could get lost easily."

Trying to avoid drawing attention, Lor stood with the others and followed the man hesitantly away from the boat.

ooc: just wanted to point out that the name of your thread is almost exactly the same as mine...which has been around longer than this one...however, you did add on the part with (strict rp, survival) so that's the only difference.... :lol:

Right...now I'll shut up lol :P