NationStates Jolt Archive


As if the world weren't a terrible already, The Amazing Maze (Open, Introductory RP)

Malkoviana
12-10-2006, 22:59
The little nation of Malkaviana has suffered greatly throughout its history. The country counts among its former leaders butchers and heros in equal numbers, and civil war has never quieted down for more than a couple decades. It seemed as though this nation were doomed to perpetual warfare, grinding itself away into nothing as fighting took precedence over living, allowing the population to fade away into history. One man changed all this, and wouldn't you know it, he did it with television. Television has been a large part of Malkovianan society since it arrived, shortly after the American and British broadcast revolutions. A country in which involvement in armed conflict was a matter of a daily coin toss turned to the idiot box with ferver. So great is the passion for television, that during the hottest years of fighting in the cities, countless families were found dead, not crouched in crumbled cellars, but huddled around their televisions.

Edmund Smurphalus was a simple broadcaster at one time, beaming slightly odd messages laced with satirical comedy and brutal violence from a tiny studio in Malkoviana's Capitol, Caphexis. The station enjoyed immense popularity during the period following Edmund's purchase of the building, his style of programming that brought horror and comedy together left audiences shocked and awaiting the next thrill, a welcome distraction in times of constant death. His popularity translated almost effortlessly into politics, and when a democratic faction took control of the Capitol for a few years, his election was a matter of fact, and his rabid following within the populace made the city nearly impossible to conquer out from under him. From here he expanded, using his influence over ever day peoples to gain military conquest where his fanatical forces couldn't.

Constant war kept this country isolated and in the dark for centuries, but now, Edmund looks out and points his satellites in new directions, broadcasting his twisted ideas of entertainment around the world. The first show prepped for international broadcast, his favorite, shall air shortly (library terminals permitting): The Amazing Maze.

TAM is the most popular show in the nation of Malkoviana, and there doesn't seem to be a trend in the opposite direction. Players from all over the world are kidnapped, tricked, coerced, threatened, brided, or simply convinced fabulous prizes await them at the center of the maze, when in reality the average person's odds of survival within the maze are next to nothing. Engines of death, mystical terrors, smoke and flame, venom and violence await the players. The maze has only been conquered by a few intrepid individuals, who now either stand at Edmund's side, or have fled the country with their winnings.

OOC: Who am I looking for? Well, anybody. Just shoot me a telegram or reply here, any single character is allowed, I don't mind exotic technology or strange abilities, but be aware like will be met with like, and the sheer madness that can result might be frustrating, or amazing.
Malkoviana
16-10-2006, 22:53
The Amazing Maze, in a nutshell.

Its actual structure is immense, but any poor soul who spent time in the maze can tell you, its mass has nothing to do with its size. The place has a weight to it, one that presses down on a person and leaves them breathless at times. Devoted fans who never miss a show find the sensation to be bracing, even exciting. People making their first visits often feel faint at some point during their stay, though the wide variety of stimulants and other exotic substances for sale in the Maze's public areas keep most people from complaining. From outside, the building seems unfinished, its superstructure making regular appearances, glowing lights and venting gases mark areas people should avoid, prone to destruction when a nearby portion of the maze is active. Constant rebuilding and remodeling leaves designers unwilling to place a facade on the building, believing its skeletal face to be expressive of the stark and shocking events within. This concept pleases the building's owner to no end.

Within, a true maze. The public areas are loud, bright and shady at the same time, a garish celebration of the frenzied devotion fans of the show display. Dance enclaves, drug dens, houses of ill repute, all pay rent to Edmund and entertain the bloodthirsty masses that await violence only he could have inspired. Beyond the areas where people bathe in decadence, crews man cameras and machinery that run the maze. Most of the killing action within the maze is controlled by a human operater on some level. From elaborately lethal traps composed entirely of hair-thin wires, to simple yet brutally efficient gatling guns, to mind-warping curses and walking piles of humped metal called "Glad Reapers", all has a human hand guiding it. This makes everything all the more deadly, as the crew is experienced and, if possible, even more frenzied for death than the audience.

Contestants must dodge, fight, and pray their way through a seemingly endless number of chambers, varying in size, shape, and purpose. The way out is as simple as the way in, but figuring that out is the hardest task of all, and the select few who've done it don't seem to be telling how. Your only chance of survival is to pay attention to every detail, not only to avoid constant danger, but just to keep going in the right direction, for every wrong step in the maze, could be one too many.

OOC:

Haven't gotten any contestant pms yet, poo, if I don't have anyone in a few days i'll run a maze cycle with a char of mine to show folks how fun it can be, then maybe things'll change. Visitors and tourists are welcome too, you fellas can hop on in and start exploring the dark mysteries and strange happenings of Malkovianan society, just give me a little wink first so I can finish getting the civillian areas typed up.

Any single char, i'm not picky about what genre you call yours, teams must be composed of different players, no single people playing commando squads please. Magic, high technology, I don't really care, as long as you're not going to go nuts on me. Keep in mind, losing the char is a definite chance. If you don't figure a way out of the maze, it will kill you eventually.
Mondoth
17-10-2006, 06:19
OOC: I'll commit an Operative for fun. Slightly PMT agents trained from birth and equipped with plenty of nifty gadgets (Are weapons aloud. And is GPS allowed, or does it even work int he maze?)
Malkoviana
18-10-2006, 00:15
OOC: I'll commit an Operative for fun. Slightly PMT agents trained from birth and equipped with plenty of nifty gadgets (Are weapons aloud. And is GPS allowed, or does it even work int he maze?)

OOC: Your char may use any equipment you wish, i'm not here to create limits on what people are going to play, but be aware, just because you bring something, doesn't mean it will do you any good once you're in the maze, just as you are free to try what you like, i'm free to try and b#$%& slap it out of you at some point.

All I need is a name, personality, and a very general background, just enough so we can come up with a reason they were lured into the maze, you can either telegram that to me or post it here for people to see (recomended), then once you and I agree on a couple minute details, your adventure in the maze can begin.

I reserve the right to start multiple storylines and then bring them together later, just because your maze experience starts solo doesn't mean somebody isn't gonna try and slow you down eventually. A person stuck in the maze for an extended period could potentially see multiple storylines come to fruition, watching people die and even escape while his own ordeal continues, mwaha... that gave me a maniacal little evil/endorphine pleasure spike, bad me.
Samtonia
18-10-2006, 00:52
[OOC- Oooh! oooh! A new nation with a great first thread! I'm in this like a fish into water! A piece of bacon into a frying pan! A hand into a.... you get the picture. I'll post up a character for enjoyment pleasure soon.]
Siap
18-10-2006, 02:33
The Amazing Maze Claude thought, behind his sunglasses, as he rode the bus in the storm. Looking at his arms, he thought, Probably a cheaper source of death than heroin. His long black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He scratched his chest and took a quick look under his shirt. Underneath his shirt, underneath the dog tags was the brand. A head of a bull and ring around it. Don't get infected on me again, you bastard. His clothing was a ragtag heap. He wore most of what he owned. A thick jacket that he stitched together. It had bits of kevlar, titanium, ceramic inserts and was held together by leather. His shirt read "Army", and his pants were standard olive drab army pants, meeting his combat boots. A bundle of cash was in his pocket and another bundle taped to his leg. His right hand was tucked inside his jacket, clutching the Community Type II automatic pistol he carried, with a Colt .25 ACP in his boot. In his other boot was a combat knife, with a myriad of tools fitted into the handle. He put a cigarette in his mouth, partly from habit, but primarily to stop himself from grinding his teeth.

He drifted into a light sleep, occasionally grumbling about being screwed out of his share...
Malkoviana
18-10-2006, 02:44
Poor unsuspecting individuals watching their local networks are in for a nasty shock... Some legal systems call it a virus, others broadcast piracy, but in Malkoviana television stations routinely overriding opposing broadcasts and inserting commercials advertising their own programs is just good marketing. A small burst of static and a moment of blank screen mark the arrival of the first international Malkovianan television commercial onto screens across the world, causing broadcasters in less secure stations instant panic, and large rounds of firings in the technology departments of major corporate networks.

We're greeted by 50's style nostalgia, an image of the nuclear family gathered around the dinnertable, enjoying microwave fare. A lilting little tune from the smiling-wife household commercials of the same era plays as the image on the viewer's television focuses in on the scene, an announcer voice, loud yet only slightly obnoxious and overly reassuring, chimes in.

"Tired of everyday fare? Bored with the mundane and monotonous? I know I am..."

The image explodes into a series of flashing images while the music increases in tempo and switches to a mess of deep screeching and thumping bass. Horrific scenes of carnage featuring combat between people, twisted horrors of red flesh and sharp points, machines marching forth and grinding flesh away into nothing, handfuls of people caught in flaming geysers and incinerated instantly, leaving charred skeletons still moving with the momentum of a runner, all that and more blinking in and out, overwhelming bursts filled with more blood than the red cross collects in a year. Individuals struggle, driving forth in the mad dash to survive, the music takes on punctuating screams every other beat.

The image simply goes dark and the music quiets when all is done, leaving the viewer to wonder in stark horror what this might be.

"The Amazing Maze. Live, or lose. Tune in frequencies for major media to follow."
Mondoth
18-10-2006, 07:09
OOC: it's late, I may not be coherent...

following a group of business men of some sort or another, Operative Gamma stepped off the plane clutching his briefcase and laptop bag. Collecting his luggage it took the young man a few seconds to ralize he was travelling as Mr. Godfrey this time and approacht he appropriate sign wielding taxi-man with ID and a tip in hand.

Modnoth generally regardedit as bad behaviour for any nation to attempt to over-ride any aspect of their communications networks, but when the intruding message had been an advert of rather perplexing nature, the situation became much more interesting and instead of a statement of indignation and a small fleet of covert ECW boats, the reply had been a single operative.
The height of Mondothian special forces the operatives were specially selected orphans trained almost from birth to be shadow warriors, creatures of cunning, deception and uncanny fighting ability the Operatives represent the probing tip of Mondothian International policy, to be used when the politicans are unsure of exactly what to use.

OOC: He's smuggled a modified PG-19 caseless 9mm pistol in (either in his luggage or shipped seperately depending ont he legalities involved) and his laptop will disassemble with pieces concealed in the briefcase (including a camera, a PDA, and a Sattelite Phone) into an eypiece that allows an assortment of extra view modes, such as IR, light gathering and UV, along with an overlay that shows Backscatter X-ray and/or MMW radar as well as displaying data from an onboard Inertial navigation/GPS unit and allowing sattelite communication with a Mondothian dispatcher. Other weapons/sensors include a piezo-monowire blade (Monofilament held rigid by low intensity piezo-electric vibrations) and an above-water sonar/sonic detterant.
the various wires present in all this gear is actually about 10 meters of high-tensile cord that is attached to a piton and can be fired out of the PG-19 as a grappling hook kind of thing (A-la Batman, James Bond Goldeneye, Etc.)
I don't mind any crazy tricks you want to pull and am willing to let the Operative get defeated, but mind you, it won't be easy.
Malkoviana
18-10-2006, 23:56
OOC: Willing Participants in "The Amazing Maze" should report directly to the maze itself, and inquire at one of the box office stands. If you can win an arguement with a box office attendant, that's good enough for us, and you'll be shuffled into the maze almost immediately. This is common knowledge throughout the nation, ask anybody and they can tell you where to go to become "guts on camera".

Unwilling participants seem to end up in the maze under a variety of circumstances, and while dark-suited thugs kidnapping folks is a regularity, so is the occasional simple *poof*, resulting in a sudden thrust from normal life into ridiculous struggle for survival, no one knows how these things happen, only that hilarity ensues.

The Malkovianan Madness Network. MMN, your source for everything you can think of, but mostly the things you can't.

OOC to Mondoth: Alrighty, so, gonna jump on in or do you prefer to be manhandled?

OOC to Siap: Same question, if ya'll are just sauntering on down, go ahead, otherwise i'll start capture operations =)


IC from this point on.

{Mondoth The agent arrives in Malkoviana without appluase. His disguise and intrusion skills have surely gained him unnoticed entry into the country to begin his investigation. Or not. People with rough looks and predator's eyes are common in this nation, and so finding out the difference between a government tail and someone who just wants your wallet might just cost you more than you'd think. His lifetime of training tells him he is being watched, and that's a fact in this nation, but with so many hungry eyes surrounding him, he'd be hard pressed to do something about it. }

{ Siap The lone wolf arrives in the city and his dirty looks immediately earn him the attention of street-level narcotics peddlers, no more than six feet from the bus itself. Other occupants of the bus, some quite similar to Claude in seeming, brush passed these vultures or else spend time among them. The friendly, smiling narcotics cultures of other nations being completely out of the norm here, deals are fast, agressive, and usually are all or nothing, wasting the time of a hard-drug dealer in Malkoviana is just as bad to most of them as stealing from them. A fresh pool of blood expands out of an alley nearby, testament to this fact. }
Mondoth
19-10-2006, 01:52
Gamma was a little unnerved walking through the streets, The worst city he had experienced was down-town Oil City during training, and even crawling with trainers looking to take him down he had not felt as unwelcome as this place. It was more than just every eye being on him, it was that every eye was on everyone, everyone looking like all they wanted was for anyone else to drop their guard long enough to wind up lying naked in a gutter with no idea what had happened. lettign his training take over Gamma took on the appearance of the passer's buy. sinking into sullen disdain, eyeing everyone, sizing them up as a possible target for some unspecified act of violence or robbery.

The building was hard to miss, it had a presence about it that could not be readily described, it was skeletal like one of the myriad of militayr structures that had been hastily erected for some obscure purpose and then just as hastily removed without any pretense of decorum. It was ridiculously large too stretching into the distance for some way in either direction down the street. People clustered around the visible entrances and, curious, Gamma joined them, trying to find a way inside.
Siap
19-10-2006, 02:09
The death did not scare Claude. It was nothing to him anymore. Life was no longer anything. Take a myriad of possibilities, an unlimited doors to choose, eventually you get a path. Look back, and you see there were really no doors. Just a straight path. After enough time, people no longer have possibilities. They become drones. Eat, sleep, screw, all the same. Same fragile pieces of flesh. Same thing happens when you please them, when you strike them, same thing happens every time you unload a slug into the back of their head. The same stunned deer look, the same skull fragments, the same brains the same blood. Caring about others was useless. The last time he had put the life of another over his path, he lost his position. But then again, he didn't really lose his position, the position itself simply turned right while he walked forward. People are made of the same stuff the ground is. The same stuff our food is. People everywhere have the same archetypes, the same anima, the same psychological tick that reduces the number of choices they consider in every day life. And every day life made them more conservative, slowly shutting out other options, and soon they too were walking a line. Soon they were all the same. Walking the line in front of them.

Claudes line led through many places, from the Siapian Army, to the Special Forces, to a prison, a labor camp, to many other places that would become crime scenes, and then it led to here. The giant structure up ahead. The Amazing Maze. Claude walked toward the doors, unfeeling.
Malkoviana
19-10-2006, 20:59
The two potential contestants arrive and make their way through the crowds that surround the Maze for blocks. As they near the maze, a noticable change begins in the crowd, where before there was only hate and guile in the eyes of passers by, now the two can catch fleeting smiles if they try, and hear the echoes of barking laughter if their ears are good enough. The bloodlust that is a matter of survival everywhere else in the country is a matter of sport here, the people know they're safe outside the maze, and that the victims never will be again. Misery loves company.

Two kinds of box office stands line the walls of the actual structure along the safe areas, a few, all with red circles above them, are open and free of people, attended by grim looking individuals in disturbingly festive costumes. Others with green circles all have long lines attached to them, as people who reach the front never seem to wish to hurry their haggled transaction with the less predatory looking attendants in order to speed the rest of things along. Cold iron turnstyles let people into the building every couple dozen yards, tickets being sucked into a machine that makes a much wetter noise than you'd expect while it stamps your hand with an ink that smells suspiciously ferrous, and allows you inside. The black spinning iron seems to writhe as people pass, as if with barely restrained longing to clutch and throttle the innocent patrons.
Mondoth
19-10-2006, 21:41
Operative Gamma was intrigued by the building and its crowds but was wary of standing out as a foreigner too much by asking what it was. so instead, he strode up to one of the empty lined box-offices and asked casually "d'you mind showing me where the nearest restroom might be?"
Malkoviana
22-10-2006, 00:20
Operative Gamma was intrigued by the building and its crowds but was wary of standing out as a foreigner too much by asking what it was. so instead, he strode up to one of the empty lined box-offices and asked casually "d'you mind showing me where the nearest restroom might be?"

The attendant's somber gaze falls on Gamma almost as if he hadn't heard his words at all. His sunken eyes peer down into Gamma's from a place that no one should like to visit, and his only response is to point at a sign with a great deal of fine print, with the word "Warning!" as the header. The print reads, "Individuals requesting entrance from this or any other clearly marked red gateway shall henceforth submit their human rights of life, liberty, and sanity to the Malkovianan Madness Network, with all profitable usage, physical remains, and spiritual residue claimed as the exclusive rights and property of said Network following said individual's entrance, full claims to follow termination of the individual's existance. Should an individual fulfill all their goals after entering, their prize shall be neogotiated with CEO and Dictator for Life, Edmund Smurphalus, and shall not excede the yearly profits of the Malkavian Madness Network in the previous fiscal year, but shall not be limited, barring said limit imposed this document, by the bounds of common sanity. MMN, 2006, all rights reserved."
Mondoth
22-10-2006, 03:53
Gamma was surprised but a life time of training gave him confidense in his ability to get out of the situation if he found it necesary, in the meantime, he might get to find out what the building was all about.

He smiled at the man non-chalantly
"So, should i strip now or do you goons prefer to do that yourselves?"
Malkoviana
24-10-2006, 23:31
The attendant smiles back and sits silently for a few moments, almost seeming, again, not to hear Gamma. A strange slithering sensation at Gamma's feet is the first clue he receives as to his predicament. A horrible looking tendril has sprung up from the cracked cement beneath him, first spreading into a puddle that affixes itself to the spot and to the base of his feet, then spreading quickly upwards with a noise that reminds one sickeningly of swallowing. The agent is soon covered from head to toe, seeing nothing and hearing only muffled laughter as vague sensations of downward movement begin.

He finds himself spit into a moldering room with no visible entrance, lit by an unknown manner to reveal the rot-infested nature of the place. It could only be made worse by the fact that he is covered in a foul-smelling goo that seems to be seeping into his skin, making him a bit light headed before too long. His only indication that he has been accepted is a deep voice that crackles into the chamber from nowhere, resounding with tones unidentifiable to most, but those who've heard the greatest of madmen speak can recall such things, voices that creep into the soul and strip bare what lay there, leaving it free to wreak havok within the individual. "Welcome," it booms, this single word followed by several minutes of maniacal laughter, before silence and darkness bring an end to the madness, for now.
Mondoth
25-10-2006, 02:29
'well this is interesting' Gamma thought to himself while quickly scrounging through his, after relieving himself that it was all there he began assembling his eyepiece and other special equipment, making sure that everything still functioned. He checked his GPS and reset his inertial navigation system and prepared to find a way out.
Malkoviana
25-10-2006, 23:24
Gamma's wonderful electronic devices brought with the hope of making it easier to get out of the maze seem confused. According to them, he is exactly where he was a few moments ago, standing just beyond the wall of the building, in front of a ticket counter, obviously, this isn't true. Attempts to establish a live-link to the sattelites brings only frustration, as his equipment can only report its inability to do so. He's in just a tad deeper than normal, and should be realizing it just about now.

The floor of the room opens up under him as he plays with his equipment, dropping him a few meters onto a floor covered in the same filth as the last room, softening his fall. Only two differences can be seen between this room and the last, its ceiling opening up into the last room, and a cluttered tunnel leading off into the darkness. A few meters into the tunnel, he sees the molds and rot give way to metal that twinkles with countless dents and scratches, going further than light allows.
Mondoth
26-10-2006, 06:35
Gamma rechecked all his gear.
The GPS unit had already proven useless, but he set it to alert him if it got a good positional fix. After that he saw that there was little choice in the matter but to flip his eye-piece into full spectrum mode (OOC: Light Collimnating will let him see in the dark, MMW over lay will show anything moving as well as highlight metal objects and allow him to see through light vegetation/fungus/clothe. and Back-Scatter X-ray will let him see through walls and doors unless they block radiation). Raising his gun he was satisfied to see its computer generated aim point displayed for him. Holding his gun at the ready, Gamma advanced through the hallway before him.
Malkoviana
26-10-2006, 22:59
His wonderful eyegear tells him the tunnel goes on for about a hundred yards and ends opening up to a small space in front of a wall of rusted metal. X-rays penetrate the walls and reveal what lay beyond, unfortunately, it doesn't help him as much as he probably hoped it would, though it would probably be good to know. The space immediately surrounding the tunnel is packed completely tight for many meters with biomass. Not fungus or plant, but viscera. Countless horrors squirm and thrash against one another in a mass pool of nightmares. Blood, organs, and various filthy unnamable things float about as the creatures claw and tear eachother in their constant drive towards the surface of the tunnel, pressing claws and fangs against the thick metal, resulting in a constant hissing noise.

Beyond the areas of the tunnel covered in plantlife, lay only bare metal. Metal humps rise up from the surface of the tunnel at odd angles and intervals, some quite sharp, others broad and heavy. His vision reveals that a few of these humps contain the kind of revolving lights you see atop things that desire attention, along with mechanisms to raise them beyond the surface of the humps. Hatches line the ceiling of the tunnel, thick steel irises that foil the nightmare's attempts to pry them open consistently as he watches.

In the approximate center of the tunnel, his lovely eyepiece tells him the tunnel is connected to something beyond the pool on either side by thick metal rods that extend off into the mass of squirming things, free from their attention, focused solely on getting close to the section of tunnel he occupies. It is when he reaches this point, that things become unhappy.

The tunnel in front of and behind him seals, giving him about 20 yards of room to move around in. In this section the metal of the tunnel is scoured clean as if by countless sharp scratches. From the mass of nightmares above him, several large tubes push downwards, impacting on the metal of the tunnel with a dull thump, each finding one of the steel irises in the ceiling. Once in place, these tubes and the tunnel both open, and huge piles of shrapnel and jetsam drop into the area around him, leaving the tubes empty as they reach up into the sea of evil above. The lights he saw hidden within the humps emerge and begin spinning, as loud sirens blare, drowning out the last bits of scrap falling into the piles.

"Fifteen seconds." A comforting female voice announces.

In the mazes public areas, monitors report Gamma's progress to the giggling masses, along with the endeavers of the many other individuals currently trapped inside the maze. This progress is tracked on leaderboards showing how long people have been in the maze and how many deaths they have avoided. These leaderboards show every 7 minutes during broadcast, giving way between to a four-way split screen showing the struggles of 4 different people in the maze, alternating to a new individual every 180 seconds barring gore, sex, or emotional breakdown warranting extra attention, with screen one dedicated to the current leader, being the individual who has defeated the most challenges within the maze.

OOC - Eek, library timer...
Mondoth
27-10-2006, 07:28
OOC: Will be away from computer this weekend

IC:
Gamma quickly cycled his eyepiece setting until he found one with less information that was easier to use. Forgoing X-ray backscatter he gave MMW a few more points of opacity and lowered the Light Intensification effects to accoutn for the lighing. In the same instant he drew and activated his piezo-monowire blade a line extending in his computer enhanced vision marking its invisibly thin presense so he didn't cut himself with it, holding the blade ready in one hand Gamma held his pistol ready in the other. With a final subvocalized command he brought the sonic detterant up to high intensity/high frequency. Into the range humans cannot hear but countless animals find painful.

OOC2: I've just now though up aout a dozen new tricks that will be added to the next generation of Operatives, sweet, but now I wish I had thought to add them so Gamma could have access to the wonderful new defenses. Oh well:(
Malkoviana
28-10-2006, 00:24
OOC - That's ok, you only have 1 post left to save his life anyway, wrong move in your previous post, unfortunately, sheer luck really ;) . One chance left, and as a merciful storyteller, i'll give ya a clue, don't worry.

IC from this point on.

A scrabbling noise from within one of the tubes draws his notice to the something, no... someone crawling down it. A figure who barely fits into the tube begins to emerge, first arms, then head and shoulders, before finally crashing down on top of a pile of flotsam with a thunderous clattering and a cry of pain as numerous sharp points in the pile find soft places.

The figure is male, filthy and gaunt, covered only in a torn coverall and a few pieces of metal crudely strapped with torn cloth to portions of his body as barely worthwhile armor. His hair is matted and grimy, but not long, having been hacked away recently to leave only greasy stubs, and his beard has had at least a month to grow unkempt, home to dried and fresh foam and spittle that escaped the man during his former and other efforts. He has obviously been in a constant struggle for survival for some time.

He leaps up quickly, grabbing a sharp piece of shrapnel and holding it towards you in a defensive posture, backing away towards one of the walls sealing this sections of tunnel as he stammers, "Phriend or Phoe! Declare!" The letter F in Malkoviana is functionally replaced by the sound created by the letters Ph and a character resembling a berry, it is slightly elongated compared to the normal F sound in words, but does not make the Malkovianan accent of English hard to understand.

The spinning lights begin to flash on and off as that female voice gives him and his new companion their final warning, "Five seconds."

The figure looks worried and yells to you at this announcement, "My best idea was coming through there! Now what the hell!?!?"

If Gamma didn't know better, he'd think that he were being distracted from something very terrible about to happen in this chamber.
Mondoth
30-10-2006, 05:33
OOC: I hope this doesn't count againt me...
I think I'm having trouble deciphering the post before my last one, is there an exit to the chamber or not?
Malkoviana
01-11-2006, 00:24
OOC - Read again, all the information is there, for me to explain it would be giving you the solution, it really is that simple. Read both posts concerning the current trap, pay special attention to new developments, then make the right move.
Mondoth
01-11-2006, 01:50
"Phriend dammit, we have to get out oph here!"
Gamma mirrored the man's accent, using his training while his intuition told him that things were about to become exponentially worse.

In one movement he deactivated the Mono-blade, retracting the invisible filament and concealed the handle in his clothing.
Pushing the man out of the Way, Gamma dove for the tube he had emerged from, Gamma wasn't as thin as the man, but he knew how to squeeze his body to fit in tight places. He crawled up the tube as fast as he could. He didn't know if it was the right choice, but he knew it was the unexpected one and nine times out of ten that was better than nothing.
OOC: Of course, if he dies, I'll just send another one, a 2nd gen with all kinds of goodies.
Malkoviana
02-11-2006, 00:59
OOC - See! Was that so hard? ;)

IC - The poor fellow remains behind as Agent Gamma scurries up into the tube. "I tell you phella, you aint gonna like it up there," the greasy man shouts up the tube as the steel iris seals shut behind Gamma.

In the audience, the crowd has gone livid at the current board leader being trapped in certain doom while a newbie has scrambled to momentary safety. The show's host, Red Bob, grins his inhumanly large and white teeth at them as he speaks into his spiked microphone, "It looks like the end for our board leader, but don't be too sad folks, it also looks like we've replaced him with somebody just as interesting!" Red Bob strikes a pose for the audience, sparkling in his neon blue business suit, accessorized painfully by a bright orange shirt, tie, gloves and shining alligator shoes. Red Bob's only claim to his name seems to be the bright spikes of hair adorning his head, mostly hidden beneath a smart looking 'Awesome Dre' hat, done in orange to match his 2nd layer, with a blue band tying it in to the suit. His face is hidden beneath a thick layer of white facepaint, along with black triangles pointing downwards over his eyes, and a wide jack-o-lantern's grin crossed by X's in a visual representation of stitches. "Not to mention..." the host's grin widens to even more unrealistic proportions, as his voice slips into a clearly audible hiss, "It's been damn near a week since someone went through the Blender!"

The crowd roars in agreement as the Blender begins to move. The section containing the former leader slides away from the rest of the tunnel, held by thick metal rods in its center. Were the two able to see beyond the sea of horrors, they'd see massive motors and gear drives that push the section of tunnel aside and propel its deadly motion. The section, now by itself in the sea of horrors and free from the other portions of the tunnel, begins to revolve on its verticle axis, first slowly, gaining speed over time. Our poor contestant finds himself dropped from one end of the tunnel to the other along with the thousands of pieces of shrapnel, bouncing off of the metal obstacles lining the walls of the tunnel, temporarily impaling himself on the sharp spikes only to be caught again in the swarming pieces of metal, until the scraps are all stained with his blood, and his bits and pieces finally seperate from his torso and grind among the scrap.

"Now that's entertainment!" Red Bob shouts to the crowd, who are ecstatic in their support for the statement.
Malkoviana
02-11-2006, 01:11
As for Gamma, he has a moment to rest. He emerges from what seems to be an open manhole into a large chamber that seems to resemble a burnt-out urban area, complete with structures, vehicles, and streetlamps. Here and there, bodies lay in the open, testament to whatever drove the former leader down and away. Strange noises and rustling in the distance tell him he doesn't have long before whatever danger haunting this chamber is upon him.

OOC - Library timer, lucky you. You get a break for now, i'll try and kill you again tommorow.
Malkoviana
16-11-2006, 02:07
OOC - First and foremost, i'm sorry. The wife and I left on our anniversary trip and I was unable to get to a terminal before we left, leaving you with no explanation for my silence. I've left you hangning without a word, that was rude, apologies... Second...

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY AND RIGHT IN THE UNIVERSE, WHY?!?!?!
Ok... Just spent 35 minutes typing some very good text for this thread, only to have said text destroyed by the library timer, because this forum only keeps you logged in for 2-5 minutes before automatically logging you out, and I was forced to log back in before my text would post, and before the network would transmit said text, library timer closed all applications running on the computer and restarted it for the next hour.

I'm very upset, and only have 10 minutes of time left in which I do not intend to try and duplicate my hard work, only explain why it will be tommorow before you get to continue this RP.

My apologies...
Mondoth
16-11-2006, 02:27
OOC: s'okay, I've lost many a post to the vagaries of Jolt Forums and much time to unexpected occurences (or unexpected lack of public Terminals)
I'll wait patiently.
Malkoviana
17-11-2006, 01:48
Red Bob is absolutely livid. "What do we have here pholks? What do we have?" He flaps his arms and gestures ecstatically for the crowd to supply him with an answer, they do so in a roar, "A new leader!" Red Bob's obcenely large tongue rolls out of his mouth as he shakes his head from side to side in a horrific yet cartoonish display that sends the audience into appreciative giggling. He doesn't simply stop this revolting behavior, rather, he leaps off of the stage and into the utility area beneath for seemingly no reason, creating a cachophony of bad noises and cursing as he darts up to the stage again. Crawling up bits of steel stage assembly like a spider monkey, he lands on his hands and feet back beneath the spotlight after a long leap from the edge of the stage, composing himself suddenly into another statuesque pose within moments, grinning with his huge white-chicklet teeth.

"Not only do we have outselves a new leader, but we also have phresh meat for Zombie Town!" The many displays behind Red Bob show Gamma's new score of 1, along with the replacement of contestant "ScruPHy" with contestant "Billy Ricky Bobby" as leader, whose challenge score is 32, whereas the former stood at 40. "One motherph$%^3r escapes without gettin eaten only to get purréd anyway, while his place at the dead man's buffet is taken by the phella who escaped ScruPHy's long awaited demise..." Bob pauses for a moment, looking down, "perhaps after such horror, we should pause to give thanks for our fortune in living another day..." this obvious joke is punctuated by overly loud FX flatulence, and the crowd goes wild as Red Bob launches into a maddenling quick series of stomps and taps Michael Flatley would be hard pressed to match, before returning his attention without warning to the show, mesmerizing the audience into doing the same.

Gamma finds himself in an area that smells strongly of death and blood. Both fresh and dried flaky red stains mark many walls and streaks of pavement, telling him this place has been a killing ground for its entire existance. What he doesn't know, unfortunately, is the area simulates a city in northern Malkoviana that suffered biological attack during a long conflict between rival warlords in the area. One side held the city, the other sieged, both suffered and were overcome from the horrors of the plague. No one knows who released this terror, only that no one was left to blame. The artificial bacterium operates as a disease with vigorous growth rates and overwhelming biotoxic saturation of its environment, but its most insidious aspect is not known until infections become fatalities. The disease infests every system of the human body, laying claim to every one of the bodies tissues by depositing huge pulsing wads of bacterium in every speck of free space in the body's major vessels and cavities, a colony rather than a simple infection. Large portions of human genetic material that lay dormant while the bacterium operated as a disease, now see use by the colony, using information contained in these sections of genetic code to create tie-in systems that link the bacterial colony to the body in its entirety. After this complete takeover, a simple electrochemical pulse within the colony begins the active life of the new "Zombie", whose only purpose upon waking is the consumption of raw human flesh and blood to supply energy to the ever-growing colony within.

Rustling noises alert Gamma to the proximity of whatever predator's fill this place, along with savage rasping and hissing that increases in volume as this new danger nears. The manhole has deposited him in the center of a 1 way street, burnt-out cars and random bits of junk lay strewn in random places, along with very viciously rended but seemingly human remains trapped in dead-end alleys or else in pieces beneath a stain on a wall or vehicle. At present, the noises are coming from only 1 direction. Buildings on either side are shattered and seemingly unsafe, crumbling bits settling to the ground of the empty shells even as he watches. The horrible noise grows ever closer, chipping away at the hardest drilled training, because in that noise is something utterly relentless, something utterly alien, utterly savage. The noise tells him the only thing that he will find in this place is perpetual death, and such a noise shakes even the best of us.

OOC - Much shorter than yesterday, but not bad, enjoy.
Mondoth
20-11-2006, 21:54
Gamma, thinking quickly, switches his sensory gear to full MMW/Sonar mode, leavign his Sonic-Deterant active, but modulating it slightly so as not tog ive away his exact position.
No stranger to the smell of death, Gamma decides now is not the time to wait for his foe and and starts does a quick turnaround, surveying his surroundings and immediately starts running towards the clearest area in his immediate vicinity, gun in hand as if by magic.
Malkoviana
20-11-2006, 23:53
The first stray Zombies begin to show themselves in his vicinity. Ragged hissing and wet gurgling screams erupt from these horrors, the only hunting calls their partially rotted flesh can give. A small handful now run towards Gamma with wild abandon, limbs flailing as they find the object of their desires, warm meat. The press of noise from further away tells him these are just the quick ones, and that he has little time before an entire pack finds him. These Zombies aren't Romero style, they don't shamble and moan, these are savage predators whose diseased conversion into the undead prevents rigor mortis from setting in and disabling the walking corpse. In essance, they move and hunt like chimpanzees, using their arms and legs in a fashion quite unfamiliar to most people, propelling themselves forwards occasionally with only their hands. With no pain or other physical limitations brought on by the human body's requirement that it continues to function during physical activity, these specimens in a third of cases are actually faster, stronger, and more capable during combat than their former conscious selves.

Gamma's movement brings him to a fork in the street, two directions to choose from, both seeming equally ruined and unpromising, with the noise of the masses and the group of six rapidly approaching behind him.

The small group of six races for Gamma, leaping over fallen cars and taking up bits of twisted metal as improvised tools of slaughter, their flesh sags and fluids drip from open wounds, evidence of the massive live infection driving these beasts. Their flesh has tinges of green and yellow where mold and rot haven't created grey and black, their eyes red pools whose isrises float like tiny black islands on a sea of blood, the black, brown and boney white shards that serve as the remains of teeth gnashing as they near their prey.
Mondoth
30-11-2006, 07:09
in Training had battled nearly every conceivable kind of zombie and had actually been vaccinated against several strains of zombifying diseases (The Mondothian medical establishment is quite advanced due to a history of biological terrorism perpetrated against it.)
These were new and different zombies to be sure, but not overly so. The Gun could wait, instead he pulled out the Mono-blade, thumbing it to full intensity which caused the computer generated line that represented the blade to widen to a a couple of centimeters as the mono-wires wild thrashing increased turning the supernaturally thin blade into a maelstrom of destruction that would easily rip through the zombies diseased flesh and bone pureeing the vital brain mass. With enhanced reflexes and a lifetime of training it would be child's play.
Malkoviana
01-12-2006, 00:55
One by one the first stooping horrors crumple beneath his defense, wet bits of viscera sliding onto the concrete around him as his blade lops heads in two and off, but victory is fleeting. Unfortunately, these zombies don't rely upon the remains of the human brain in order to operate their hosts. Because of the massive and total infestation, the tie-in systems created by the disease continue to stimulate the nervous system of the corpse despite the lack of a cranium, meaning that as long as a zombie has large complex nerve clusters (meaning brain and spinal tissue) remaining from which the colony can centralize communication and control to force the body to continue acting.

The larger pack approaches as the first wave falls and crawls its way back up, clawing its way back towards that which destroyed it with no new malice, only the screaming hunger for blood. Uncountably numerous in such confined spaces but probably totaling in the hundreds, they run at a desperate pace, forcing their bodies to flail towards their goal ever faster as they all know food is near.

Red Bob has made an angry pledge. "Bitches! I aint doin shit, nothin', no way, not a phuckin thing except stand here on my phuckin' head until those Zombies get somethin to eat!" The crowd is all to happy to agree with him, laughing and cheering as he crosses his arms from his cartoonishly secure position balanced on only the top of his head, moving around, swaying from side to side, even hopping with the horrible thumping noise of his skull on the floor to talk to audience members, all without losing his balance even once. "But phirst! ... " The audience leans in expectantly, calling for him to announce what is coming. "Sponsors pay us too bitches, heh..." They groan in response as the screens behind move to commercials.
Mondoth
02-12-2006, 06:26
"Well that's not quite right." muttered Gamma who turned and ran, guided only by instinct. pausing only to grab a bit of the shredded flesh. These zombies were different and somebody back in Mondoth would want to check it out, if he ever got back.
Malkoviana
03-12-2006, 00:57
His flight brings him to a crossroads, the street continues to the right and left, one of the ruined streets leading towards a large seemingly solid structure in the distance, the other street narrows as it stretches off into the distance, the narrow confines and lack of penetrating light mixed with the debris strewn everywhere make it nearly impossible for his fancy glasses to give him an accurate picture of what lies too far ahead in the alley, but at the immediate area contains no movement.

The corpses chasing him are joined by still more savage horrors, they pour from the crumbled buildings to either side as the mob passes them, swelling their ranks but slowing their greatest numbers as the crush of bodies becomes too much for the narrow street.

"Beer! Damnit, I want a Beer!" Red Bob is thrown an Amber-filled mug, and somehow, someway, by some sheer combination of luck and insanity, manages to pour it into his mouth, and swallow it, never moving once from his perch atop his skull. "Cause somebody is about to die, and death deserves a drink!"
Mondoth
04-12-2006, 21:21
Gamma continued running, taking the obvious pathway to the right, towards the large structure and away from closed confines where ambush would be a constant threat from the weird zombie-like creatures that seemed to inhabit this place.
Malkoviana
04-12-2006, 23:34
"Get'em bitches! Get'em!" Red Bob seems only a little unhappy with his long stay atop his head, the lack of death on screen seems to be his chief complaint. "I knows you're hungry, so hurry the phuck up, Red Bob is gettin' antsy," his skull continues the dull candence of thumps as he makes his way to a large device covered in bubbling chambers and tubes, he reaches for one such tube and shoves it into his mouth, puffing away at the smoking device until a veritable cloud of blue and purple smoke pools around his airborne ankles.

The structure ahead of Gamma is made up of the same dull painted concrete as the rest of the simulated city, but a large pair of red Xs adorning the front of the building to either side of the main entrance come into view as he nears. The area ahead is quiet, lacking the savage noises of active corpses, but it's obvious they've been here. Improvised fortifications lie between Gamma and the building, gaping holes showing where swarms had entered on their way to whatever was in this building then. Barbed wire in messy sections and piles of concrete and scrap make up the majority of barriers, although a number of large wrecks lay piled nearest the entrance. This wall of junked cars seems like the least effective layer, as it is the least damaged, as the corpses were mostly able to simply claw their way over.

Gamma's first clue of habitation lies here, piled outside the main entrance, obviously having been tossed from a nearby balcony, hundreds completely dismembered and often partially processed animated corpses lay rotting in the open air. The doors to the structure stand open, and his enhanced vision tells him a large open space awaits him immediately inside, with no current movement or heat visible.