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**Pinary** · 05-31-2011, 02:38 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.

Loading Mini-Grand Framework... Done.

Generating Administration Personality... Done.

Ooh, hey! This is pretty cool!

Generating Characters... Done.

Four beings suddenly found themselves nowhere, able to see one another but nothing else. A synthesized voice came out of the nothing surrounding them.

"Ooh, thingies! Fighty thingies! Whee! Hey there, thingies!

"Let's see... thingy one's a cool wind spirit called Kekarie! It can do wind stuff!

"Then there's Deathwing! He's pretty much the baddest ass in town, with cybernetic implants up the wazoo! (Maybe even literally?) He can fly and shoot lasers and be generally neato.

"Ooh, a Bartleby! This guy's Bartleby Miller, and if he dies, he just comes right back! If he doesn't die every hour or two, though he dies for real! ...I'm confused now.

"Whatever! This last one is Nathan Xander, but he's got a cooler name he'll tell you about if you ask him. (And maybe you can get an autograph! Oh, that'd be awesome!) He's basically a cool-famous-kickass video game person!"

Generating Setting... Done.

The four generated characters suddenly found themselves moved, scattered in various locations around what looked to be a rather well-appointed cruise ship.

"Check it out, thingies, you're on a ship! It's called Titanous or something, and it's pretty big! The guys who made it were all 'pff, you can't sink it, losers.' You should totally prove them wrong or something!

"Oh right, I forgot! You don't even know why you're here! You're all supposed to fight, yeah! As soon as one of you dies, you'll move somewhere different, and that'll keep happening until there's just one of you left! Isn't that awesome?! Have fun!"

(Characters:)

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SpoilerSolaris: Kekarie (#B2A807)
Lankie: Deathwing (#00BFFF)
Ixcalibur: Bartleby Miller (#A0522D)
BlastYoBoots: Nathan "nateXtrem" Xander (#224B07)

Solaris Wrote:Username: Solaris
Name: Kekarie
Gender: None, but I guess it would answer to male.
Race: Ancient Wind Spirit, birdlike, created at the beginning of the universe, as far as it knows, the only one of it's kind.
Colour: Pretty Dark Yellow that is Hex code #B2A807
Biography: After the creation of the universe, this creature was whisked into existence by a god. Its job was to just protect the forest, and that was a pretty easy job. At the time, there wasn't really anything threatening around (to the forest as large at least), so it had a nice time just hanging out in the forest, talking to plants and animals, and not really having to deal with anything that was sentient enough to disturb the natural order of things. So, one day, it just fell asleep... for a few thousand years.
When it woke up it was thoroughly confused, didn't really know what to do with itself, until it was led to some village of humans by some nice trees. At first they were deathly afraid, but one village elder knew of the Wind Spirit's legend, told it its own name, and begged for help with the loggers that were about to destroy the forest. Remembering its purpose, it set off do just that, albeit in an indirect way.
Unfortunately, this led to tragedy, when in a fit of unjustified rage, the loggers set the forest near the village on fire while they worked on another side of it. Kekarie was similarly enraged, and for the first time in it's entire life it flipped out, leaving the workers scarred and injured and completely unable to remember what had happened. The following morning, the villagers tried to find the wind spirit, but it was gone.

Description: Standing at some five feet, the birdlike spirit has a feathered, blue and green torso with some rougher magenta legs. Its feet each have three, powerful clawed toes. It also has a small pair of magenta wings, only slightly large enough to wrap around his body. From the neck up is his orange, beaked head, which also lacks feathers. Finally, its most odd limb is his large, yellow, prehensile tail, which has five clawed, humanoid fingers at the end.
Personality wise, Kekarie’s a bit of a prankster. Likes to juggle with the tail, enjoys speaking with plants, animals, and children. It likes attention from the younger ones very much. It cares for the forest and lives to protect it, but for the most part prefers to go about its business in a lazy way, because for the time that its been active, it didn't really have to do much. It acts a bit dumber than it lets on, and it doesn't speak at all unless absolutely necessary. However, if it gets enraged enough, it will show it's full god granted elemental power.

Items/Abilities: Being a wind spirit, it does not require food or drink, but greatly enjoys fruit and various liquids. Its beak and claws can pierce and rip apart moderately hard objects, while its tail-hand can only scratch or carve at things. However, it can easily wield weapons with little difficulty, and is easily maneuverable and strong, capable of suspending the rest of the body with ease. It has extraordinarily good balance, and a sixth sense for falling objects. It also can spit out compressed wind bullets of varying power, ranging from enough to knock a hat off, to piercing a bulldozer. While it has a great control of wind, unless severely aggravated, it prefers to limit itself to only passive wind control to increase speed and jumping ability, with the exception of his wind bullets.

Lankie Wrote:Username: Lankie
Name: Deathwing (also known as Claus Everett)
Gender: Male
Race: Human/Cyborg
Colour 'deepskyblue' according to tags

Biography: Since a young age, Claus had been involved in war. His homelands belonged to a vast, technologically advanced empire with a ruthless conscript programme. Children as young as 12 would be collected and 'upgraded' into cybernetic soldiers, to further push the machine empires wish of global domination into a reality.

Unlike most others of his age, Claus revelled in the idea of becoming a soldier and welcomed the gruesome transformation with open arms. His enthusiasm continued in his days of a soldier, showing a natural talent for warfare and murder. He managed to out live the vast majority of average conscripts by years and loved every minute of it. It wasn't until 13 years later would his commanding officers would take notice of Claus' talents.

Claus was granted an audience with the Eternal Emperor himself and offered the long due promotion to 'Vanguard', the Emperors elite squadron of unstoppable knights. Naturally, Claus accepted straight away. His standard cyborg implementations were stripped away and replaced with something much more befitting the emperors personal guard; advanced shielding, the deadliest weaponry and grand metallic wings. Claus abandoned his name for something more befitting his terrifying appearance.

And so the scourge of the skies, Deathwing, was born.

Description: Deathwing complexion is sickly white with jet black hair, his left eye a dull grey, while his other replaced with a cold, metallic construct with a single, piercing blue light. Both arms have been replaced with robotic limbs, his left arm bears only a large cannon to fire destructive energy bolts. His legs remain intact, albeit clad in gadget riddled boots. A large glowing core is embossed into Deathwing's chest, hidden by a large cloak. Deathwing sports six huge, metallic wings upon his back, skeletal in shape; they serve as extensions of Deathwing's body and may freely move them as if an arm. On his back there is a slender cast of metal which acts as a jet pack.

Deathwing is a demented being, taking a grand amount of pleasure in the pain and suffering of others. Despite his skill as a killer, he is in actuality quite the moron, he was never really suited to his general like position and prefers a simple 'fragfest' to complex tactics. He is most definitely an advocate of brute strength, overpowering his enemies with unrelenting firepower. Should things not go his way he is quick to become irritated and even more stupid. Despite his violent tendencies, he quite the talkative fellow, and loves a good old fashioned monologue when the chance presents itself.

Items/Abilities: Despite being named 'Deathwing', his wings are in fact, mostly aesthetic, they are far too thin for actual flight. His airborne ability comes from a jet pack attached to his back, allowing him quick and controlled flight with relative ease. That is not to say the wings aren’t completely useless, Deathwing can manoeuvre them as an effective stabbing weapon if needs be.

Deathwing's main weapon is the 'death cannon' which is his left arm. This huge gun fires globes of pure energy which explode violently on impact. The rate of fire of the cannon is impressively fast, ensuring swift, immediate destruction at any time. Unfortunately, such a powerful weapon has a drawback; it overheats spectacularly fast, Deathwing could only fire a volley six or seven blasts before the cannon would effectively burst into flames. Cool down generally lasts about three or four minutes.

Deathwing's general cybernetic implants provide him with the stamina, strength and speed of 3 men put into one. However should his core get severely damaged enough, his implants and life support would shut down, followed by his death in about 5 minutes.

Ixcalibur Wrote:Username: Ixcaliber
Name: Bartleby Miller
Gender: Male
Race: Flux

The Flux are an alien race whose DNA is incredibly unstable. This instability manifests itself upon the point of death wherein their entire body will be rebuilt from scratch and they will be fine. Most Flux are because of this effectively immortal, the only things that can kill them being the complete destruction of their body or old age. When their body rebuilds itself it seldom looks anything like how it started, varying incredibly from one incarnation to the next. Each individual Flux has markers that remain constant from one incarnation to the next, identifiers that enable other Flux to tell one another apart. As a species they have a very relaxed attitude to death, and a very low murder rate.

Colour: Whatever this colour is. Brown i guess.
Biography: Bartleby is unique amongst his race, his DNA being even more unstable than that of his peers. It possesses the unique quality that it does not wait for death to begin rebuilding his body. Allowing this to happen would cause him to rapidly disintegrate until all that was left of his body was an unsightly mush. The only way to prevent this process is to die regularly, at least once every hour and a half. Various Flux scientists have been working on a way of stabilising his DNA for years, and were in fact approaching a major breakthrough before Bartleby was taken off to be part of a Grand Battle.

Description: The one constant throughout Bartleby’s many forms is that his hair (or fur) is always strawberry blonde, and his skin pale white. At the time that he was taken Bartleby was relatively humanoid; the only real difference being that he had an extra pair of arms, composite eyes taking up half the size of his face, nostrils but no nose, and mandibles. He is about nineteen years old. He typically wears t-shirts and jeans, or whatever the equivalent of this is for the species that he is, as these are easy simple clothes that he can just pull on after regenerating.
Due to his condition Bartleby no longer fears death, and can actually be quite brave when he wants to be. He is somewhat reckless because his life is kind of shit and he doesn’t really have much incentive to keep hold of it, though he would not give it up voluntarily. He is always kind of rude and ill-tempered because he does not get much sleep because he has to get up every two hours to kill himself.

Items/Abilities: As noted above when he dies he regenerates into another form. He carries with him a backpack full of clothing appropriate for the forms he seems to regenerate into most often, and a knife for emergency suicides. He was not chosen for his fighting skills but for the fact that he is hard to kill. Well hard to kill and make stay dead at any rate.

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Spoiler:mspa:

BlastYoBoots Wrote:Username: BlastYoBoots
Name: Nathan Gabriel Xander ("nateXtrem")
Gender: Male
Race: Human

Colour: #224B07

Description: Tall 23-year-old Caucasian male, with semi-athletic build and a round chin. Short black spiky hair, and pink eyes (via nano-dye augmentation when he was 15; purely aesthetic). Wearing a black "GDC '87" t-shirt with a holographic (3D) print of the GDC mascot on the back, a rounded polygonal figure with an upside-down impossible triangle for a head. Also wearing camo cargo pants and a GDC '87 pin shaped like a small, black flying saucer, which has been secretly outfitted with a tiny camera.

Amiable and prone to humor; crowd-pleaser. Loves his job and appreciates his fans; will often sacrifice revenue or break the occasional non-disclosure contract for an occasion to feed his hungry fanbase. In video-games, quite competitive and a completionist. Has a strong appreciation for game design, especially visual and story-wise; knows every video game trope like the back of his hand.

Items/Equipment: Wielding a replica H&K MG 9 ultralight machine gun / automatic rifle, with toggled laser sight, ultra-long-range scope, and nano-reloaded 80-bullet capacity, among other fixings. Not that it needs it, seeing as it is only built to fire an unlimited supply of blanks. Has a similarly modern laser-sighted pistol sidearm at his belt, firing similar blanks. Both look, sound, and fire blanks identically to the originals, save at a reduced volume to avoid any chance of hearing loss by the user (esp. in small quarters). Also at his side is an exact replica serrated combat knife from "Call of Duty 12", engraved "nateXtrem"; it is real, and deadly sharp. The GDC pin mentioned above has a hidden camera Nate installed to avoid screening by the Xilyon Odyssey alpha staff; as a low-power miniature camera, it is only capable of taking 52-Gpx still 3D images, able to display them back on a deployable, floating hardlight-nanomesh display when necessary.

Skills: Expert marksman, through years of competitive VR practice and otherwise. Skilled with a combat knife, through similar means. Moderately athletic, but exceptional at twitch-reactions and dodging, as well as sensing his immediate environment for threats while moving quickly/silently. Basically, a pro-gamer. His PR experience and contract negotiations have also given him a light degree of prowess at social manipulation.

Biography:

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Spoiler"No phones, no wires, no radio, maxfi, or medialink signals; yes, Mister Xander, even your biolink headset and micro-wallet need to go. We can't trust a non-disclosure agreement alone, given your 'history'."

Nathan and the CEO of Matrix VR-ware had a mutual laugh at his air quotes, here, as he was being stripped of his belongings in a deep back room of the 2087 Game Developers' Conference. "Yeah, I understand. It's just, you know, with 120 million blog followers, it can be-"

"Hard to resist the temptation, yes. Especially given the... uniqueness of what we're about to show you." Uniqueness indeed. Matrix VR had released hit after monumental hit since 2063, when they unexpectedly received the rights to resurrect the long-dead "Call of Duty" franchise in a virtual reality game. Contrary to everyone's expectations, they truly knocked it out of the park, and have been topping themselves in leaps and bounds ever since. Most unique was their hardware; their experts insisted on custom-tooling the usual VR-sphere hardware, bringing hardlight-nanomesh graphics and sensory-feedback to their most detailed level yet. Their latest game, cryptically codenamed "Xilyon Odyssey", was a total mystery. They'd teamed up with Bandolier Studios, home to some of the best story-writers and procedural-generation experts in the dev business, and then proceeded to spend trillions of credits on this project while keeping everything on a total lockdown. All they said was that it was bound to "redefine gaming" as never before... and most in the know believed them.

Nathan would be the first outsider to see it.

Virtual Reality - forcing participants to compete physically, not just with a rudimentary interface - had turned pro-gaming into a mainstream-channel sport, and Nathan had been swept to the top. His tournament wins and online commentary had made him the go-to source for fans of VR shooters and RPGs. He was even offered star movie roles on multiple occasions, but turned them down, of course. Can't disappoint the fans by being away for filming that long, even if he documented it.

"You think we're impressive?!" the CEO had joked with him, earlier. "You single-handedly brought back pink eyes. I'd be lucky to accomplish something so amazing in a lifetime!"

Matrix was counting on Nathan's exclusive look to kickstart promotion of the game, generating hype to keep their stock up and competitors at bay. As far as they knew, Nathan would give an exclusive multicast on it, after the demo; no visuals, no in-game sound, nothing but his personal account of his impression of Xilyon Odyssey. Little did they know that his GDC pin was a fake, smuggled days before the show and outfitted by a trusted friend with a state-of-the-art miniature camera, perfect for capturing the game's look and feel. Nate hated to do this to a company he loved, but, well... what the fans demand...

He was handed his VR-linked gun replica and sidearm; both rather current weapons, he thought, giving him an idea of the game's setting. "Oh, and I almost forgot," chimed in the CEO, who then made a show of presenting back the knife they'd taken from him at screening. It was the custom-engraved reward he'd received as a teenager, having won his first championship at a Matrix-sponsored global VR tournament; he never took it off his person. "That's right: you can use it in-game. As long as you don't throw it, that is; while it's on your person, there's no danger of damaging the VR-sphere with your swings, even if you embed it in the ground next to you."

"Just remember, Nathan. This exclusive preview only lasts as long as you stay alive. At your first death, we'll shut it down and escort you out. Prepare yourself... this will be unlike any game you have yet experienced."

"I'm ready."

Everything had gone as-planned, or so the CEO thought at first. Nathan walked into the large, custom VR sphere his company had lifted in for the occasion, and the hardlight-nanomesh framework inside whirred-up in a suitably expensive-sounding manner. A countdown had begun, and their soon-to-be award-winning RPG was unleashed into the sphere as normal.

But, oddly, there was no player detected. When they shut everything down and looked inside, Nathan had vanished.

"Well, James," a pale, sweating CEO said to his second-in-command, "I guess it's time to call in the lawyers."

Solaris · 05-31-2011, 02:51 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.

"GET THAT BIRD!"
"KE KE KE KE KE"
Kekarie ran out of the kitchen that it had suddenly appeared in, followed by three chefs who had predictably wished to turn him into the ships dinner. The large bird ran through the currently empty dining hall, jumped on a table, looked back, and then taunted the chefs by wagging the pointer finger on its tail. In response, one of the chefs tossed a knife at the bird, who coughed out an air bullet in response. The same knife went on to slice through the same chef's hat, angering him further.
Within a few moments, Kekarie was being chased after through the deck by more than half of the ship's cooking staff, each armed with various cooking implements and ready to cook some bird.

GBCE · 05-31-2011, 05:15 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

"What sort of shitty intro was that?!" Not once had he tested a game with such a sudden, unpolished orientation to the-

Unbelievably confused, Nathan had blurted that out at full volume without taking account of his surroundings. Well-attired men paired with regal-looking women in all manner of Victorian dresses (he assumed, Nathan was never a fan of history) distanced from him in a circle, ceasing their dancing as bewildered as he was. Across the ballroom, the musicians slowed dramatically to a stop. A stubborn violin player continued for a moment, jabbed to a halt as the entirety of the deck took notice of their unexpected visitor. The chatter dimmed to a silence. A glass dropped, just to punctuate the occasion.

Nathan stared at the utterly unfamiliar, nonsensical – yet amazingly realistic – setting, gazing over a series of stunned, vaguely disgusted faces. He glanced behind him, a small porthole facing out to a swaying ocean. Then he looked down at his cutting-edge rifle, so completely incongruous to the setting.

What the hell do I do now?!

Since the advent of the internet, gamers have had a singular, instinctive response to being thrust into situations they haven't the time nor inclination to understand:

Send it all to hell.

He leapt behind the nearest damsel, shoving his sidearm threateningly beside her temple. Then he waved his sophisticated rifle, announced "MUTINYYYY!!" at the top of his lungs, and noisily unloaded a clip into the ceiling.

Everywhere, suddenly, there was screaming and chaos.

Ixcaliber · 05-31-2011, 06:26 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Bartleby’s arrival was not optimal. He was already disorientated from being grabbed out of his own bedroom and so hurriedly introduced to the other contestants in this fight to the death. This was not improved when he found himself plummeting off the side off a ship into the freezing waters below. He thrashed uselessly, gasping for air. He knew how to swim, in theory, but this body wasn’t the most suited to the water; he could not close his mouth properly and consequently was swallowing a lot of it. His mind struggled to make sense of what was going on, where he was and what he was doing here, but as he was struggling to stay afloat in an unkind sea, it was not the best time for such ruminations. In his struggling his backpack slipped off his shoulder, plummeting into the dark waters below. Rapidly running out of breath he attempted to coordinate his unfamiliar limbs to pull his knife from his belt. He felt his long fingers close around the blade, reached up and stabbed himself in the heart. Bartleby knew from experience that drowning was a lousy way to die, at the very least this would be quick, and relatively speaking painless, which isn’t to say that it didn’t hurt like hell. As he lapsed into the deep blackness of death, Bartleby’s home away from home, he couldn’t help but feel that this was a pretty lousy way to start the day.

GBCE · 05-31-2011, 08:09 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

Screams, followed by a series of explosions.

Deathwing was never one to question a situation he was ever thrust into; there was never any need really. All things considered, everything Deathwing was ever ordered to do was essentially, 'here's some guys, kill them with your gun which makes said guys explode'. The cyborg wasn’t about his deviate on that pattern just because there was a change in management.

Deathwing had materialized on the deck of the infamous boat. There was roughly a three second gap of silence before the screaming started, a natural reaction for a civilian of the 1910s after seeing, what is essentially, a machine demon. In hindsight this was the reaction he got from everyone, time period notwithstanding.

Still, it made no difference to the Cybernetic soldier. He raised his left arm and unleashed a swathe of hot, plasma, explosive hell upon the undeserving patrons of the illustrious ship. Once enough people had run off/died you could finally hear Deathwing's rapturous laughter, though to any outside perspective, it was clearly the psychotic cackle of a lunatic.

With the subsidence of bodies to murder and the infernal hiss of the Death Cannon's cooling system, Deathwing did something out of the ordinary and thought about the situation he had been unceremoniously popped in. Wind Spirit, Unkillable Man, Video Game...Person? There were other, more interesting opponents to hunt, competitors if you will. Deathwing cracked a wicked smile and flexed his mechanical wings.

"This is going to be fun."

Ixcaliber · 05-31-2011, 03:47 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Bartleby’s lifeless body floated in the cold water. For a minute or so nothing happened, and then it began to mutate quite violently. The process all but shredded his clothing, leaving his jeans hanging limp around his legs, only held up by his belt. His knife was forced out of his heart and slowly sank into the depths. His shirt was relatively undamaged. After a couple of minutes of heavy mutation Bartleby awoke, regenerated. His four arms were now tentacles, covered in suckers, his legs had mutated together to become a tail. He reached out and touched his face with his tentacles; it was relatively humanoid, although he noted the presence of gills; useful. It had long been discussed amongst his people whether the regeneration attempted to compensate for environment or whether sometimes people just got lucky and regenerated into a form apt for their environment. Bartleby had never been particularly interested; he just went with whatever he had at the time.

He suddenly realized that this ship was still moving, and that he should try to get onboard while he was still thankfully adjacent to it. He swam up and hooked onto the side of the vessel using the suckers on his tentacles, and slowly he attempted to scale the sheer wall that is the side of the Titanic. Even if this were not an incredibly difficult thing to do on its own, this was made more difficult by the fact that this form was very difficult to control requiring him to concentrate on using each individual sucker. If he hadn’t had to focus quite so hard on the task at hand he might have wondered how the hell octopuses cope with such impractical limbs.

It was not easy but eventually he made it, dragging himself up over the railing and onto the deck. He lay there gasping for air, too exhausted to move, not that he would have found it easy without legs anyway. Suddenly there was screaming coming from somewhere close by, he turned his head to see a woman in a fancy, though old fashioned, dress in hysterics. He tried to speak, to ask her to calm down. Bartleby was in fact having a hard time grasping that he was the cause of her distress, since he came from a culture where this kind of thing would have been perfectly normal. Suddenly there were more people around her, one of them, dressed in a fancy uniform saw the creature that had somehow made it on deck and drew a pistol. The others that had shown up, took the hysterical woman away. The master of arms waited until she had been taken back, and then pulled the trigger; he probably reckoned he was doing ‘the creature’ a favour by putting it out of its misery. Bartleby yelped in pain as the bullets ploughed into him. As he slipped back into death his last thoughts were that this was going to be one of those days.

GBCE · 05-31-2011, 07:57 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

The maiden struggled in his arms. "UNHAND me you brute! I would-" *THWACK*

A quick pistol-whip to the temple was all it took to knock the NPC unconscious. An explosion of some sort had rocked the upper deck, sending the chaos he'd created into a blind frenzy, most running without knowing exactly what they were supposed to be running from. Ironically, this offered Nathan a great deal of freedom of movement.

Used to the noisy chaos of a VR war, he strolled around and took proper stock of his surroundings. The level of detail was fantastic! Wooden walls and baseboards felt like real wood, probably from a type of tree that'd been extinct for decades. No wonder the development costs were so astronomical: imagine all the research!

Nathan holstered his sidearm and swept up a glass of something brownish-orange from a nearby table. He took a sip... not just cold and delicious, but with real alcohol in it! Most simulations have their material delivery set to synthesize this fake metallic-tasting stuff to remain kid-friendly; Xilyon Odyssey was clearly going for a mature rating. But would this be in the final version?

For that matter, what was with that awkward loading sequence, earlier? He struggled to remember the poorly-rendered voice's hurried introductions. What was the goal, again? Why had it mentioned him by name and job description? The name was understandable due to his RF identity implant, but that reference to his fame must have been statically programmed in. Did Matrix really expect to win him over with such a corny easter egg?

He started to meander the deck's halls past fleeing passengers, sipping his Punch Romaine and waiting for the obligatory guard to show up in response to him 'sounding the alarms', so to speak. Somehow, he knew the layout already. He'd seen this environment in VR before, he thought; a long time ago, with a different color scheme. But it hadn't been nearly as detailed, of course. Or hectic. Perhaps this game was an homage?

He ascended into another hallway to find a different source of screaming, and at least one source of psychotic laughter.

"Well well, if it isn't the video gamer?"

Far down the hall, the same cybernetic angel of death he'd seen in the loading sequence strode toward him, slowly and purposefully. His glowing core compensated for the shattered fixtures he'd left behind him, illuminating six wings dripping with the gore of those unfortunate enough to pass beside him. Diced corpses fragrant with fresh blood littered the hall to his back. It was - needless to say - quite intimidating.

The obvious phrase 'final boss' jumped to mind.

The first thing Nathan did was drop his glass and reach to the pin at the heart of his shirt, squeezing it several times to snap pictures with subtle, satisfying 'click's. The second thing he did was bolt out into the maze of passageways leading deeper into the ship, narrowly escaping a ball of white-hot death.

Solaris · 06-02-2011, 03:23 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.

Kekarie continued its rampage through the ship, making sure to bump into as many people and breaking as many things in the process. This did not please many of the passengers, and soon Kekarie was being chased by an entire medley of interesting people. It was positively excited! It had never seen such diversity in humans and its feathers felt electrified at all of the attention it had. It continued its romp through the ship, eventually reaching a door. It stayed there for a moment pushing at the metal barrier, unable to open it like the crude wooden doors of the village near its forest. Eventually it just decided to shoot out an air bullet, destroying the door, and allowing it to gleefully continue outside onto the ship’s deck, with its entourage of fun people just catching about to catch up on him.

It was a breathtaking view, even for a wind spirit, the azure ocean reflecting the light of the sun. Kekarie had never seen such a thing, and it decided to take a closer look. Spreading its wings and jumping off the rails, it glided around the ship, taking in the sun and happily dodging the many thrown objects of the many angry patrons.

After its short glide, it landed on one of the lower decks of the ship, where there were not a lot of people. This area looked a lot different from the rest of the ship, danker and a lot less chipper. A stray cat calmly strolled on by, purring and hoping to find someone who would take pity on him and feed him. Then it looked up to see a giant rainbow bird. The cat let out a yelp and began to run away.

After a pause, the wind spirit hopped up and then began to chase the cat, thinking that now it was its turn to chase.

Ixcaliber · 06-05-2011, 11:20 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Eugene, the Master at Arms approached the corpse of the hideous creature that had somehow managed to end up on the deck. Scientists said there were all kinds of crazy things living in the depths of the ocean, things that were all tentacles and teeth, but he had never thought he would see such a grotesque specimen and he felt sorry for the men and women of this fine ship who had had to suffer it’s presence as well. Sure people claimed that all life was sacred and all of that, but this thing belonged clearly belonged dead. He slid the pistol into its holster and grasped the tentacles of the hideous beast, preparing to toss it back into the ocean where it belonged. Immediately he pulled his hands back, this thing had the consistency of mud and something weird was happening. As he watched two of the tentacles retracted entirely, while the other two mutated, altered into… arms? The creature’s tail split down the centre and became a pair of legs. In fact this thing was looking more and more human by the second. Eugene could do little more than watch in stunned disbelief as the dead body climbed up from the deck, stark naked, folded it’s arms and stared at him.
“Seriously?” Bartleby asked. “That’s how you’re going to greet someone who is in obvious distress?” Eugene had never considered himself a religious man but he knew that sea monsters turning into people and telling him off was very much against nature. He backed away from the abomination and raised his pistol once more, his arm shaking.
“Stay back foul creature.” Eugene said. “I will not let you harm the people of this vessel.”
“I don’t want to harm anyone.” Bartleby protested. “I would like some clothes though if you have some. It’s a bit chilly out here.”
“Monster!” Eugene cried. “Still your tongue demon, I will not listen to your lies!”
“Even just your coat would be nice.” Bartleby suggested, he reached out to the terrified Master at Arms and for his trouble he received a couple of shots in the gut. “…Son of a bitch.” He said, and collapsed. As Bartleby hit the deck, Eugene wasted no time in emptying his gun into the awful monstrosity.

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GBCE · 06-06-2011, 04:10 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

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Deathwing was mildly surprised. Not many people have the fortune of avoiding his death cannon, especially not some two-bit videogame nerd. Then again, it would have been rather dull if the young, Mr. Xander were to explode on sight, much like the rest of Deathwing’s victims. Variety is the spice of life, as they say; and a good chase was varied enough for Deathwing to revel in.

Nathan sped through the tight, winding corridors rather effortlessly, breaking his stride only to avoid the occasional bewildered NPC. While the gamer realised you could only go so far designing mundane corridors, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. This was a direct copy of another level from a different game, simply littered with different enemies and new textures! Nathan mentally filed the level design under ‘disappointing’ perhaps even copyright infringement? He wasted little time snapping a few photos will on the run.

Nathan could tell that Deathwing was chasing him, what with the background screams being cut rather abruptly as he ran by, however he was confident in his skills. The gamer already knew about layout and from what he saw of this ‘boss’ character, he was a bit too large for these small corridors to get through in a fast manner. All he had to do was outrun the guy, find the secret weapon (probably a rocket launcher, oh how these designers love their clichés) and defe-

And that’s when a second ball of white-hot death ploughed its way through the scenery, so very, very, narrowly missing the gamer. Nathan took a small peak through the newly formed corridor to see, what else, the rather distinct silhouette of the cyborg hunting him down. Nathan regained his composure and prepped his rifle, clearly he had fight him off a little to get away. Oh well, at least the designers made it easy for him, “Gee, I wonder if the big glowing heart core is the weak spot?”

Deathwing had a rather exasperated look on his face, when he pictured the chase in his (admittedly demented) mind; he figured large straights, not a bothersome maze of tiny walls. Still, he had solved the problem with the answer that solves all problems; death cannon. The cybernetic man knew Nathan was there, he could smell his fear, well actually no he couldn’t, at this moment he was only guessing. “Come out boy! You like games do you? Well I like games too! So why don’t you come out and…play.”

Deathwing’s comment seemed a little…meta, to Nathan. He supposed it was a pretty standard line for villains, but even then he couldn’t help but make the connection with his fame. Probably another lame easter egg, the designers must really be clawing for a good impression. Nevertheless, Nathan was willing to oblige Deathwing’s offer to ‘play’. He darted out and aimed his directly for the glowing core, even if covered up; it was obvious it was there. Nathan fired his unfortunately harmless rounds with great accuracy.

GBCE · 06-06-2011, 05:49 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

The winged warrior stumbled backward – mortally stunned – clawing protectively over the glowing weak spot into which he'd injected about half of his eighty-round clip. Was this really going to be so easy?

Deathwing uncovered his precious power source, and stared. Not a scratch! And the thin cloth meant to obscure it had not a hole to be found.

He began to laugh.

Guess not. Confirming his (impressive) aim, Nathan leveled his laser sight at the core and unloaded the remainder of his clip before dashing through the halls yet again. His invulnerable adversary – who had paused to cackle ominously – shortly resumed pursuit, far closer than before.

This deck was mostly bare, now. Aside from the occasional serving cart (or corpse, when they doubled back on some of the cyborg's previous paths), there was little he could topple to obstruct his foe's way. His rapidly approaching foe.

Dammit! I can't beat this guy if I don't lose him first, and I doubt this ship has any fusion-grade blast doors I can hide behind. That cannon of his could tear this ship apart! Best I can hope for is maybe triggering a scripted event, if I run far enough.

Deathwing tore down the halls after the gamer, often literally tearing them down with his wings as he stampeded through the deck. This brat is rather slow for someone so lightly armed. Blasting him would be so easy, but a bit farther and I'll have him in my physical grasp. Now, wouldn't that be fun? Just need to close the distance a bit, a few more yards...

The cat that dashed out from the corner in front of them went entirely unnoticed. The giant bird, obviously, did not.

"KE KE KE KE KE KE!"

Nathan narrowly avoided the multicolored missile as it sped around the corner, trilling and squawking excitedly. Running up along the wall to speed its turn, Kekarie knocked the cyborg on his back with a dismissive air-bullet, racing over his prone body after a terrified feline.

When Deathwing righted himself, both the kid and the bird had escaped in different directions. He couldn't hear either of their footsteps; he was alone.

Ixcaliber · 06-12-2011, 04:32 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Bartleby reformed, looking only marginally different than he had before; a different facial structure, different coloured eyes and rampant facial hair. This time, as soon as he got up he leapt at Eugene, the terrified Master at Arms. His hands closed around Eugene’s neck, a scowl etched across his face. The Master at Arms attempted to use his weapon to beat away the horrific abomination against God that he had taken Bartleby to be, but it was futile. The pair collapsed backwards, the naked Flux straddling the struggling man, no doubt offending the sensibilities of anyone who had for some reason deemed to stay in the area. Bartleby did not let go until the last breath of life had been squeezed out of the Master at Arms. He climbed up, looking at the one or two people who remained.

“He started it.” Bartleby said defensively, and began to pull Eugene’s clothes from his corpse. Anyone who was remaining fled, either to escape the horror of this ungodly creature or to find a heavy object to beat it around the head with, either way he was left alone. Bartleby slipped the dead man’s thick lined pea coat on over his shivering frame, but neatly piled up his other clothes next to his corpse. After a long moment Bartleby began to wonder why the man wasn’t regenerating. He crouched down next to the now naked corpse and felt for a pulse, making sure he wasn’t just out cold. Confirming that he was definitely dead he began to panic. Hailing from a world where such a death meant nothing, Bartleby couldn’t comprehend the finality of the man’s death. It was to him as if he had irritably punched the man on the arm and in response he had dropped down dead. Bartleby’s mind attempted to push forwards scenarios to make the situation make sense. His first idea was that he was no trained doctor; he’d simply missed the man’s pulse. He grabbed the gun from where it rested on the deck, fed in some bullets from a pouch in the man’s jacket, pressed the gun against his forehead, to make sure, and then fired. He waited patiently for Eugene to regenerate, but after a minute or two was forced to come to the conclusion that for some bizarre reason he could not; that he had ended this man’s life permanently. He froze. His blood running to ice he stared down at his hands. ‘What have I done?’ he asked himself in horror and disbelief. He collapsed against the railing, his expression blank his eyes staring into space. In the distance there was the sound of things exploding, but Bartleby was past the point of hearing them, he was dead to the world.

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Solaris · 06-12-2011, 09:04 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.

Still running through the ships corridors, the spirit continued it's playful chase, ignorant of any surrounding conflicts, focusing on the cat and only the cat. The terrified feline led the bird up higher along the ship, hoping to escape from it's feathered predator.
Eventually, it got it's chance. Running through the floor where a corpse and corpse-to-temporarily-be resided, the cat jumped into a crown of fleeing people, finally leaving Kekarie's trail. Curious as to what they were running from, the bird came into the presence of the depressed Flux.

Kekarie stood still while starting at Bartleby. From what it had seen, the way that things worked were that people chased or people were chased, and Kekarie was curious as to whether the Flux would run away or after itself.
When neither occurred, the spirit lowered its head in annoyance.
"KE KE KE!" it cawed out, hoping to stir the depressed soul with its loud motions.

Bartleby did nothing except sigh.

Annoyed at the inaction and general lack of attention to be had from the empty-except-for-a-sad-sack deck, Kekarie decided it would go back and find others... but first...
Flapping its wings and tossing a strong wind current, Kekarie sent Bartebly flying off of the ship once more.

Waking up from his depressed stupor, Bartebly tried to hang on to the rail, but that only dislocated his hands as he spiraled down to a lower deck, hitting along the ships side, the poor flux landed a few decks below, his head hitting the rail and ending a rather painful death.

Ixcaliber · 06-12-2011, 11:29 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

The sickening thud as Bartleby collided with the lower deck attracted the attention of nearby passengers, who clustered around the dying Flux. Though it was kind of obvious from his injuries that he was already dead, or at least past the point where medical attention would help, a couple of the passengers ran off to find a doctor. His regeneration was swift; the only noticeable change being that his feet were replaced with hooves, though nobody really noticed as they were kind of focused on the blood pouring from his head, and also the fact that he was not wearing any pants. As he climbed to his feet the passengers came to the conclusion that he had had a miraculous escape, and began to insist he sits back down until a doctor can see to him.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Bartleby replied.

“I insist,” insisted one particularly insistent passenger. She bade him to sit down again. “You could have died.”

“I did die.” He said. “Got to be, what, my fourth time today? Ouch.” The passenger in question looked rather concerned at this development.

“I think you might have a concussion.” She replied.

“What?” He asked. “Why?”

“Well you obviously can’t have died.” She said, pointing out the obvious.

“Why not?” Bartleby asked, quite baffled by the woman’s insistence.

“Well… you would be dead.” She explained.

“I was dead.” He insisted.

“People don’t come back from being dead.” She looked concerned again. “Please just sit down.” Bartleby whirled around.

“Pardon?” He asked. “People always come back from the dead!” The unfortunate passenger in question backed away from him. “People always come back from the dead right?” He asked again, a little manically. The woman backed up further, growing nervous.

“…Yes.” She said placatingly. “Yes they always come back from the dead.” There was a hesitation before she shouted “Don’t kill me!” and ran.

“What is it with you people?” Bartleby asked. “I wasn’t going to kill you!” He suddenly became aware of the pistol in his hand. He had stuffed it into his jacket previously having not wanted the soon to regenerate Eugene to get his hands back on it. He had no idea when he had started waving it around, he was so confused. The crowd had thinned, and the only people who remained were those who were too afraid to run. He sighed; whatever was going on he decided to just go with it. “Give me your pants!” He shouted, aiming at the nearest guy approximately his size. He did so and fled. Bartleby was promptly alone again. Slipping the handgun into the waistband of his new pants he turned and looked out to the ocean. Somehow until now he had not noticed the sunset; the single sun setting on the horizon. He ran to the bow of the ship and stood staring out at what he now realised was an alien landscape. This kind of explained some things. He suddenly felt very homesick.

GBCE · 06-13-2011, 02:10 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

Nathan burst past a couple of nervous passengers into the evening air, panting and sweating over the Titanic's railing. Damn, that was close! Can't let yourself get fragged this early in the demo, can you, Nate?

He undid the strap on his rifle, slinging it around his back to free up his hands, and took a look at his surroundings as he caught his breath. He was close to the bow of the ship. Few passengers were about. There was one looking into the sky around the front railing, and an older couple toward the back of the deck looking at him sort of horrified for some reason. Hm. The ship itself was indeed quite large; four mighty smokestacks towered at an angle from the... wait a minute...

The Titanic! No wonder I recognized the setting! Rather cliché, though I suppose it hasn't been done in a while.

Nathan had browsed the Titanic's halls as a middle-schooler, in a museum which had commissioned a VR simulation of the ship that it could show to curious, impatient field-trippers. They'd received a tour of the decks, were shown some of the food served aboard (inedible, though, as synthesizers were expensive and harder to maintain back then), and were even given an opportunity to play hide and seek with each other across the ship. (Any lost kids, of course, could just be pulled out of the simulation.) It hadn't been all that memorable – VR simulation back then was rather low-res and stilted, too much input-lag for compelling gameplay – but Nathan was hardly one to forget a layout after he'd run through it once or twice.

Iceberg. He remembered the Titanic had struck an iceberg, causing it to sink. But it was hit around midnight or something. It's sunset right now, so it shouldn't happen yet if the game designers were being accurate.

Another explosion shook from the bowels of the ship. Not that it'll survive that long, at this rate!

As Nathan looked back toward the man at the bow, a glint caught his eye. A revolver! The handle was sticking quite conspicuously out of his (slightly oversized) coat. It's probably what the horrified couple were gawking at – nope, they're looking at his legs or feet or some such. Odd.

Well, oddities aside, he couldn't afford to overthink things. Nathan quietly strode up behind the distant-looking man, tapping him on the shoulder. "'Scuse me, sir."

"Hmm?" Nathan tapped him harder. "Sir."

Finally, the man turned to face him. "What is i-" Nathan jabbed his sidearm in the young man's gut, careful to position himself to shield it from the old couple's view. "Listen. You're going to tell me where your other weapons are stored, or I'll shoot you and throw you off the side."

The man looked oddly apathetic considering the weapon shoved into his midsection. "Whatever. I've already been shot and already fell off the side."

They shared an awkward pause. Huh?

"So, you're that Xander guy?"

Ixcaliber · 06-16-2011, 04:41 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Bartleby turned away from Xander, preferring to look out across the dark blue ocean.

“Oh, do you know me?” Xander asked, I thought this was singleplayer…?

“Yeah.” Bartleby responded. “From before in that weird place that wasn’t really a place. I’m Bartleby, the one who ‘if he dies he just comes right back’.” His voice slightly sad as he recited the words of the disembodied voice that had spoke to them. Oh, thought Xander, an NPC. And quite an important one I guess if he was in the opening cinematic, not that that could really be called cinematic…

“I don’t want to fight you.” Bartleby said. “I don’t want to kill anyone; not to make them dead forever…” Why does every game do this? Nate idly wondered as Bartleby prattled on about death and the permanence of it. Why does every NPC you come across feel the need to recite their life history to you in excruciating detail? I must be able to skip it. What was the skip dialogue gesture again? “…What if he had family?” Bartleby continued. “How would they feel that he had ended before his time? How would they feel about me who ended him?” Nate clapped his hands together, doing little other than attracting attention to himself. Nope, I guess that wasn’t it. Fine I guess I’ll just listen to the backstory then. Geez. I’m making a note of that for my review. “…If someone had done that to someone I loved I would hate them, so I guess they must hate me…” What does this guy even want? Oh! I get it. He’s a recruitable party member. That’s what all this bitching is about. One of the bad guys troops, he realized what he was doing was wrong, or got sick of killing or whatever and now he can join my team. Nate critically appraised the mournful Flux. He doesn’t really look like he’d be able to hold his own in a fight, especially against that demon cyborg thing, but well I guess he’s better than nothing. Worst comes to worst I could just ditch him when I find a heavy weapons specialist.

“Well,” Nate began. “If you’re against killing, you should probably help me against the cyborg causing all these explosions; there won’t be anyone here left alive if we don’t stop him.”

Bartleby was silent for a little while, causing Nate to momentarily believe that the game had frozen. Then he responded.

“Yes.” He said. “Nobody else will die today, not if I can help it.”

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Solaris · 06-16-2011, 06:52 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.

After sending the Flux off on its magical wind current, Kekarie was not very pleased. There was no one on the deck at all and everyone had ran away. Just as it was about to attempt to fly up off the deck, the door behind it had been slammed open as three gun wielding men appeared. They had obviously been sent in to take care of the being who Kekarie had just sent off, but with the small descriptions given, they decided to go after the only monster in sight.

Freeze monster. We are not a-afraid of you, the middle man stuttered, his shaking hand beginning to aim his pistol at the bird.

Now Kekarie did not care for many of the mechanisms of humans or a lot of things. It only cared for the forest and now that it was no where near, it was unsure of what to do. So far, it had gone with the flow of the area, just running and chasing, and doing what it felt like. But upon seeing the metal gun, it flashed back to the time in the village. Sending off wind bullets of its own before they could so much as aim, the bird charged at the center guard, knocking him down. It took the gun with it's tail and proceeded to pistol whip the other two men and then blew all of the guns away off the ship. Stomping on each of the men one last time, Kekarie resumed its plans for flight, and jumped off the side of the ship and up into the sky.

GBCE · 06-16-2011, 09:38 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

"Whoa there, Leeroy," Nate cautioned, turning Bartleby back to the ship's railing. "It'll take a lot more than confidence to stop that cyborg. See this?" He thumbed the rifle strapped across his back. "It can punch through bulletproof glass, but didn't make a dent in his body."

"You shot him? To kill?" Bartleby looked perturbed, but then seemed to mull it over. "So, just how bad is this guy?"

Another muffled explosion rocked outward from the ship's belly. "That answer your question?"

"Well, why are we waiting, then? You said people were dying, lots of people!"

"Because this is the Titanic."

Bartleby clearly didn't follow.

"The Titanic's a historical disaster. Some midnight on its first departure, it hits an iceberg and splits in two. Just about everyone died or something, over a thousand people."

At the staggering figure, the Flux's reaction was somewhere between apoplectic and mortified. "...Fuck!"

"So... yeah. We're saving ghosts. Instead of hurrying in, remember that we're probably the only ones who can stop him. We have to do this right. Agreed?"

Still pale, he reluctantly did so.

"Our cyborg has a big glowing weak spot in the center of his body. Bullets didn't crack it, but they made him sweat a bit. We need to find something heavier to punch through him..." Nate struggled to think of suitable naval devices. "Harpoons! A harpoon gun would do it. Think this ship would have one?"

'Used' to the situation of death as Bartleby was, the weight of its newfound permanence gave the 'punching through' metaphor a sickening undertone of amorality. His discomfort wasn't lost on Nate.

Modern RPGs tended to have bisexual NPCs, nowadays, in fairness to those of varying genders and sexualities; playing off-gender is more difficult in Virtual Reality, so adapting the characters to varying players rather than vice-versa was simply straightforward. The prevalence of gene therapy that could adjust or broaden one's gender leanings kept this from becoming too large a moral issue. If a character was meant to be a romantic option, you'd have a shot no matter who you were.

Bartleby was looking rather frazzled; a dash of romantic drama might be enough to distract him from his troubles, keep him on Nathan's side. And besides, he looked pretty good. A few inches taller than me, a natural ginger, seems to have a nice face under that silly beard. I guess it's worth a try.

"Don't worry," soothed Nathan. He put an arm around Bartleby's back, turning him to bask in the glow of the rapidly setting sun over the front railing of the Titanic. Facing him, he set his pink eyes on Bartleby's, and smiled. "We'll get through this."

Unfortunately, Bartleby seemed completely oblivious to the advance. Dammit! IRL, the pink eyes usually drive the guys crazy.

"What's that?" Nate turned his gaze to the sky, finding Kekarie circling the ship. "Ah, maybe the bird'll join us, too. I'll signal it."

Bartleby hesitated. Maybe that's not the best idea.

GBCE · 06-18-2011, 01:17 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Lankie.

For lack of a more eloquent term, Deathwing was pissed off.

Not only to lose a target as basic as a standard ‘no upgrades’ human, but also to be bested by some brainless beast? It would be enough to drive a normal person crazy, but Deathwing wasn’t ‘normal’ or precisely a person anymore. The cybernetic soldier vented his rage like any good cybernetic soldier should; with murder and explosions.

“Insolence” was the only word to roll out of his mouth, the palpable hate for someone merely surviving him was incomprehensible. It was through such malice that put the beginning stages of a cruel plan into motion. Deathwing’s methods were perhaps a bit too linear for the situation he was in. The cyborg was preoccupying himself with small time contestants while ignoring the gigantic, glaringly obvious, boat shaped target right in front of him.

Deathwing regained his composure and smiled while casually eviscerating an unlucky passer-by. Sure it lacked the personal touch the Deathwing strived for, but he couldn’t argue that it would get the job done, albeit slowly. The ship would sink and the game boy would drown, then, with nowhere to hide, the bird shall prove an easy target. A flawless plan with the bonus of purging this quaint, little boat’s filthy inhabitants, Deathwing was like a kid in a candy store.

The cyborg aimed forward and blasted a makeshift exit for himself, making sure to pause in-between shot’s, he wasn’t about to take chances with such a beautifully formulated (well to Deathwing at least) plan. The jets on his back warned up instantaneously and launched him out of the Titanic like a missile. The dangerous sociopath looped around the back of this ship with a surprising amount of grace, his target being the propeller of the ship, followed swiftly by frontal, lower deck.

Before he could commit mass murder, he couldn’t help but notice a certain wind spirit idly soaring through the air. Deathwing cracked a psychotic smile as he aimed his sights towards the unaware Kekarie, a little vengeance was just the personal touch Deathwing was looking for.

Solaris · 06-18-2011, 05:30 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Solaris.

Kekarie was spiraling around the ship, content and alone, comfortable amongst the wind current it was using to amplify its flight. It was peaceful, but it was bored, without anything to do or anywhere to go. Perhaps it would try to go and find its forest, or mayb-
"KEEER"

Aiming a high-beam flashlight at the bird turned out to not be the best course of action. Its responding screech was surprising and almost painful.
"Graaa, how do I turn down these sound effects?"

Luckily, Nathans pain would not linger for long. Deathwing aimed at the distracted bird and quickly fired at his prey. But he was not done yet. Wanting to have a little fun, he blasted off to begin an assult on that damned bird.

Kekarie fell. While it's surrounding wind had prevented it from taking the full blunt of the impact, getting hit by a death cannon hurt a lot. The following physical assault by Deathwing certainly didn't help. As a beaten Kekarie fell into the water, a sudden chill was felt. It was as if for a moment, all of the wind stopped, and then started up again. Clouds started to come closer to the ship, covering the sun's rays above. And down where the wind spirit had fallen, the waves began to move oddly.

Deathwing however, payed it no heed, having gotten a necessary ego boost for beating Kekarie like the animal it was, he turned back to the ship to find a face full of light. He scowled as he covered his eyes and looked away, spotting a retreating Nathan in the corner of his eye.
"Oh, the Video Gamer, I thought you wanted to play."
He momentarily paused to prepare a charge at the ship when he was suddenly suprised by a large purple tentacle.
"What?" was all he could muster as the water near the tentacle began to displace and a giant octopus holding a familiar bird rose up.

Back on the ship, Nathan looked at the scene and disappointingly rolled his eyes. "Oh great, they took liberties."

GBCE · 06-18-2011, 08:59 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" "Relax, I'm not going to fire."

Nathan carefully aimed at the bird, then began to blink his rifle's underside flashlight at it. By the sound of its reaction, it didn't take too kindly to the move.

"Graaa, how do I turn down these sound effects?" That must have been near the volume cap. Any higher and I could sue them for hearing damage!

Predictably, Deathwing interrupted with his cannon. Thinking quickly, Nathan flipped his flashlight to full and turned it at the cyborg, using it for its original purpose: blinding enemies. Any normal foe caught in that beam wouldn't be able to pinpoint its source well enough to aim.

Less predictably, as Nathan rushed Bartleby inside, a giant fucking octopus rocked the ship.

Deathwing was certainly not a normal foe. His bionic eye set to thermal vision, the gamer was easy to pinpoint, and even easier to shoot. But Deathwing had other things on his mind, namely the giant fucking octopus trying to steal his thunder.

Not to mention Kekarie, who it was depositing on the deck. What is that bird made out of, anyway? Even a graze from my cannon should have turned it to flaming mush!

As the Titanic groaned and twisted under arm after encroaching arm of the beast, the cybernetic soldier considered his options. He could wait for this thing to slowly destroy the ship, but would have preferred it to sink a tad faster, himself. After all, he couldn't stay airborne forever.

-----

"Yes, yes, I know what they are," Lawrence dismissed his friend, caustically. "But... why are they here?"

Deep in one of the cargo holds, Lawrence, Charles, and Michael stood around an overturned crate containing three fully-loaded, antique, original Staghold harpoon guns. Well... two. The men had been exploring the hold, ordered to find and unbox any sort of weapon for use against a monster, a mutiny, or a demon respectively while others were to break down the arms cabinet in the absence of the Master-at-Arms's key. Moments ago, the ship's sudden rocking had triggered one of these three inexplicably loaded weapons to misfire, shattering the side of their crate and bringing the lot down right next to the men. The sheer anachronism of these decades-old launchers – and their unfathomable presence on a passenger liner such as this – was simply baffling to the crewmen; they found themselves in a circle around the devices, staring dumbfounded.

"...octopuuuus... ...GIANT OCTOPUUUUS!!" A gasping, sweaty crewman barged down into the hold. "Man your stations, men! We're under siege by a bloody octopus."

"I thought it was a mutiny-" Charles started, but was rudely interrupted by the ship loudly tilting about ten degrees.

It was then that the gasping crewman spotted the harpoon guns. "Ah, seems like you have the right idea. Now bring those to the deck before the whole damned ship collapses!"

The trio glanced at each other, then collected the two unfired weapons and hurried them up the ship.

Ixcaliber · 06-19-2011, 09:34 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

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With the ship rocking precariously under the weight of a giant octopus, there was no longer anybody on the ship left in blissful ignorance of the chaos that had descended upon them a little under half an hour ago. People poured through the corridors of the Titanic, desperate to be the first to reach the lifeboats. Bartleby and Nathaniel pushed against the crowd keen to remain inside where they were, while perhaps not safe from Deathwing’s Death Cannon, at least a lot less likely to be hit by it, it was getting them nowhere. Bartleby was getting agitated, and after a moment’s hesitation he turned to head back out onto the deck. Nate saw him turn out of the corner of his eye, and dashed around after him, grabbing him by the hand.

“What is it?” asked Nate, though his question was lost amongst the noise and the chaos. Bartleby pulled him through a nearby door left wide open, and into the abandoned cabin that lay beyond. “What is it?” He reiterated.

“The people of this ship.” Bartleby replied impatiently. “How can you say they are ghosts? How can you walk amongst them, while they panic and flee and believe that they aren’t worth saving?” He pulled his hand away from Nate. “How do you know what is going to happen anyway? Why are you so sure that everyone is going to die?”

“This was a major historical event.” Nate said. “Everyone knows what happened.”

“You’re acting like this is your world.” Bartleby said. “How do you know that it is? I thought this was my world and it isn’t. I doubt it is the world from which that bird and that metal man were from. Why should it be yours?” He paused. “In your world was this what happened? Did this ship sink because it was dragged beneath the water by a giant octopus?”

“…No.” Nate replied, brushing off the more confusing aspects of Bartleby’s logic.

“I don’t buy that the fate of those people is certain.” Bartleby replied. “I won’t let them die and I especially won’t stand around and talk about it while they are dying.” He headed for the door, but Nate slammed it closed and stood in his way.

“Have you listened to a single word I have said?” He asked. “What are you going to do? Talk him to death? Fistfight him while his robotic wings tear you to shreds?”

“I don’t know.” Bartleby said, advancing upon him. “I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

“You’ll get yourself killed.” Nate snapped back.

“So what?” Bartleby replied sharply. “It doesn’t matter.” He stood inches away from Nate, his fists clenched in anger at the world he found himself in.

Nate cursed the game designers; this guy was suicidal and unwilling to listen to reason. Maybe he needed to give him a reason to survive? He guessed it was worth a try. He reached out, held Bart’s face in his hands and kissed him.

GBCE · 06-20-2011, 07:16 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by BlastYoBoots.

What is wrong with this game?

Nathan hadn't come across a single thing that made any sense. Why go through the trouble of replicating the Titanic – right down to the alcohol – only to bring in a giant octopus and tear it apart in a half-hours' worth of gameplay? Was this one of those demos that drops you in the middle of a level? And if so, why did Bartleby Finch (they'd traded names in the hall; 'Bartleby'? Really?) seem almost as clueless as he was?

Even in the age of realistic VR, game design still usually reeks of... well, game design. Your placement, the layouts, and the goals presented to you all reflect a cohesive plan built to provide you with a specific play experience. Nathan hadn't read a single such cue from any of this; it's as if the game paired him with three completely random characters and threw them all on the Titanic indiscriminately. Where was the story, the 'railroading', the intended outcome? Was there one?

At least the octopus seemed scripted as hell, if tacky and incomprehensibly timed.

Well, if the setting is poor, the delivery is poor, the timing is stupid and the story is nonexistent, perhaps the AI is easily fooled? Bartleby seemed keen to suicide into the enemy like the objective of a badly designed escort mission, so it couldn't be that bright. If Nathan set it off its game hard enough, he might confuse it into sticking with him and doing something sensible.

So – with an internal cry of "For the fans!" – he kissed him.

A crewman threw open the door. "EVERYONE TO THE LIFEBOA-"

Nathan and Finch separated, sharing a tense and bewildered moment with the crewman. He sped off, white as a ghost; Finch didn't look much better than the crewman.

"But- ...ab- ...I- ...I just met you! We met five minutes ago! Literally five minutes!"

Oh, shit. The AI's smarter than I thought.

"Um... Oh! Haha, 'course. Just... clearing your head a bit, you were going crazy there, uh-" Shit shit shit. You're the one who looks crazy. Backpedal, change the subject!

"Ah, listen! Neither of us can stop an octopus, so that part of the problem's too large for us anyway." Nathan was interrupted by some distant, familiar-sounding explosions, paired with a deep beastly moan as the ship rocked another few degrees. Huh? "That cyborg, could he be...? Nevermind; so to the point, what I'm going to do is find the heaviest weapon I can, as fast as I can, and I'm going to take out our mutual, destructive friend. Might I die in the process of doing this? Sure! But it's the best plan I can come up with. And if you're really as hard to kill as it was implied, then I could really use your help. So are you going to come with me, or get torn up by the 'metal man' like the earlier passengers?"

Whew! Hope he buys it.

Ixcaliber · 06-27-2011, 06:30 PM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

Bartleby was still a little blindsided by the kiss. The more he thought about it the more he was annoyed. Not annoyed in that a man had kissed him, Bartleby being from a world where people didn’t really have a static form would have found such a concept baffling and extremely limiting. No he was annoyed that his first kiss had been with some guy who he had only met minutes earlier.

It wasn’t as though he had never been interested in romance, in fact for someone who had to wake up several times every night to slit his own throat he was remarkably well-adjusted. He had never had the opportunity. It’s one thing to be the weird kid at school who doesn’t fit in and who promptly gets made fun of, it’s quite another to be the weird kid who has to kill himself roughly once every two lessons. It was as a consequence of this that he found himself to be rather unpopular, this combined with his condition led him to be very isolated, by choice mostly, until he was taken to participate in this battle. As a consequence the first time he was ever kissed was from a stranger, while he was stressed out about something else entirely.

And almost immediately afterwards Nate started going all serious again as though the whole thing had never happened; throwing rationalisations of reasoning at him when he just wanted to get some air and perhaps save some people from getting killed because that was still happening as well.

“You do that.” Bartleby said. “I’ll see what I can do on deck.” He pushed the door open, to find the corridor beyond practically deserted. Without waiting for a response he turned and half-ran his way back towards the deck.

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Ixcaliber · 06-30-2011, 05:41 AM

Originally posted on MSPA by Ixcalibur.

It was chaos on the deck; people were fighting over the far too small number of lifeboats. It was becoming apparent that this unsinkable ship was going down, whether it was due to the massive octopus that was currently grappling on the side of it, or the general destruction that had taken place who knew, and at this juncture who cared. The Titanic was sinking, that much was certain. In the skies above the Titanic the deadly cyborg Deathwing fired his death cannon at the gargantuan octopus. The globe of plasma scythed through the beast’s thick rubbery hide. A pause and then every single cell struck by the blast exploded, reducing the octopus to something reminiscent of an extremely unpleasant confetti; scattered wide across the turbulent ocean. As the remains of the octopus slid back into the depths where they had come from most passengers were cheered. Bartleby however was not most passengers. The Flux found himself some crates to climb up onto, so that he stood out from the crowd and bellowed into the night, demanding Deathwing’s attention.

“Stop!” Bartleby demanded. He struggled to find the right words; half made speeches wound through his head questioning whether the cyborg even knew what consequences his actions had, forcefully insisting that he would not allow these crimes to go unaddressed, naively claiming that that octopus hadn’t deserved death not having understood the quality of its actions. None of them really did justice to the scale of the atrocities being committed by Deathwing, by the vast number of lives he had extinguished forever. It was as he was momentarily contemplating an adequate response that Deathwing fired his death cannon. It engulfed Bartleby, causing him more agony than he had ever gone through in any death before now. The burning hot plasma ripped him apart molecule from molecule, and then it exploded him.

If he had had time to think he would have realized that this was one death from which he was not going to recover. In a way he would not be sure how to feel about that. He had been fighting to stay alive through death for such a long time. It had become his life and for better or for worse he had missed out on a lot of what living actually was. His main regret would have been that he did not seize the moment when it had been presented to him.

When the smoke cleared Bartleby had been reduced to dust. There was simply nothing left to regenerate with.

As Deathwing and the others were pulled away from the sinking ship, off to their next location, it would have been a consolation to know that despite how badly thought through and naïve his plan had been, it had worked. Deathwing was no longer in a position to hurt any of the people on this ship, and perhaps some even survived on the lifeboats. It was all he had wanted.

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