Mini-Grand 5104 (Game Complete)

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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Loading Mini-Grand Framework... Done.

Generating Administration Personality... Done.

"Why must I waste time with this inanity? Accursed programming."

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.

"Pathetic worms, all of you. Who are these worthless creatures I am forced to observe?

"Hector Metah, a boy from the distant future who creates life around him.

"Gretalis, a demon who specializes in tormenting the lustful.

"Obfuscation, a blob which consumes memories, including its own.

"Agent 7, a superspy who also happens to be a large humanoid fish."

Generating Setting... Done.

The four generated characters suddenly found themselves moved, scattered in various locations around a lavishly-decorated building.

"This is Parliament. I neither know nor care which specific country it is the Parliament for, and that is of little consequence to you regardless. What you need to know is that there are elected officials and bureaucrats and the occasional member of the public coming in for a tour or to complain to their representative. There is also a rather large chamber where the actual legislative debate and voting takes place.

"More importantly, this is the first battlefield upon which you shall all attempt to end each others' pathetic existence. I will move you elsewhere once one of you has perished. Now, proceed with the meaningless slaughter."

(Characters:)

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Spoiler

Username: Lord Paradise
Name: Hector Metah
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Colour: #777777
Biography: The funny thing about history books is that the farther back in time you go, the more liberties the history book takes with cause and effect. For instance, while we think now that the fall of Rome came out of the collapse of democracy, people experiencing the fall of Rome know it had much more to do with some strikes in the garbagemen’s union. Meanwhile, people living right around “the present,” or the time when the process of sterilizing the Earth of all biological diversity, believe they’re reacting to an energy crisis and the desperate need for resources to support an unsustainable lifestyle of pollution and urban filth. From the far future, however, the history books agree that the decisions made in this time were a reaction to a theory that arose a coupld hundred years before. This somewhat nihilistic theory states that all this biological diversity came about sort of randomly through a drawn-out bureaucratic process of natural selection.

This is ridiculous of course. The truth, unknown even in the far future, is that now and then when there isn’t a satisfactory array of life in the universe, a handful of organisms (last time it was a couple of the dinosaurs still hanging around after the Meteor) are chosen by the All-Mother to become Progenitors, catalysts of biological diversity, and where they walk Life is born in their footsteps.

Five thousand years after humanity had decided to stop mucking around with rainforests and beef and trees and diseases and planets to put them on, the All-Mother decided it was time for a shake up. So she made Hector Metah a Progenitor. It started off small—he would, say, wake up with an ant sitting on him—but in an age where nothing that isn’t human has ever lived, seeing an ant constitutes enough of a shock to drive a boy crazy. That was two months ago. Since then, the situation's gotten a fair bit worse.

Description: Hector’s lived an okay life, as all kids do in the future, because any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from happiness. He’s about ten pounds overweight, less because he can’t control his diet and more because if he loses the weight, he gets a bit chilly at room temperature. He’s fairly intelligent within the scope of what he knows, which isn’t much. Temperamentally, his regularly lax attitude is beset by stress at his recent failures to hide the fact that his presence is bringing about the end of the age of humanity.

Hector will grow on you, if you stop trying to work out what his ethnicity is (it’s the future, they don’t exactly divide the space station into color-coded continents) and get over his time-displaced conception of English. He won’t understand words about plants and animals, like “bitch” or “sheeple.” All of these terms fell out of favor back in the generation when people could still get nostalgic for Discovery Channel specials and trips to the zoo.

Oh, and he leaves a trail of grass behind him as he walks. Come to think of it, that’s probably the easiest way to pick him out in a crowd.

Items/Abilities: Life arises around Hector all the time, especially when he’s sleeping, or concentrating on intensifying his power. If he concentrates really hard, he can give birth, in a sense, to a creature of his own devising, and keep it as a familiar of sorts. Apart from his familiars, which always seem to die on him, nothing he creates is within his control, but none of it actively seeks to kill him, even the viruses in his bloodstream.

I'm signing up for the fourth.
Username: Bluesunnyday
Name: Gretalis
Gender: Male
Race: Lust Demon
Colour: Dark Red
Biography: A demon who worked in minor corruption, planting seeds of darkness in his target's heart before the heavy hitters went in to fully corrupt the target. He wasn't really born. It was more like suddenly popping into existance. He would also pass the time by torturing some of the sinners who had ended up in the Lust circle of Hell. Despite his origins, he dresses quite sensibly.
Description: He's somewhat tall, with muscular arms. He has a pretty normal mental state, aside from a bit of sadism. He will occasionaly stop fighting simply to torture his victims. He really has nothing in the spirituality department, what with being a demon...
Items/Abilities: He has black wings that he can summon, allowing him to do the equivalent of a quadruple jump before gliding to the ground. He uses mostly whips in combat, which he uses to inflict pain, strangle, and occasionaly dislocate limbs. He also has a ceremonial dagger, which he has entitled Pathema. He uses it to finish off his victims. He also runs rather fast, and can possess any bystanders. However, attacking him with anything with any sort of holy connotation (Crosses, Holy water, star of david pendants, etc.) while he is possessing someone will result in him being forced to leave the body, as well as injuring him significantly.

Username: NineCalibur
Name: Obfuscation
Gender: None but male whatever.
Race: Prototype Bioweapon
Colour: Colours? Who cares whatever.
Items/Abilities: Obfuscation’s composition constantly emits a low level radiation, which while not physically damaging, affects the memory of those nearby. Sometimes short-term memory is affected and the target begins to forget what they are doing here, or where they are etc, but other types of memory have been tested and found to be affected, including long-term memory, semantic memory (understanding of how the world works) or procedural memory (memory of how to perform certain learned tasks) though these three are much less common. In most cases leaving the vicinity of Obfuscation will cause the memories to come back, but spending too much time in Obfuscation’s presence can cause memories to be lost permanently.
Description: Obfuscation is a smooth black featureless blob. Its surface is sleek and smooth and solid looking. Obfuscation is best described as curious since, affected by its own radiation; it does not retain memories for any significant length of time. It is almost childlike.
Biography: Obfuscation is a weapon designed to induce memory loss in those in its vicinity. It was supposed to provide a tactical advantage when dropped into enemy territory; however it was quickly discovered to have several major flaws which made it unusable. The first being that its memory loss field could not be turned off, the second being that it was affected by its own memory loss field causing it to be incredibly unreliable in a combat situation. Scientists began to work on new and improved versions of Obfuscation until they found that they couldn’t really remember how they had made Obfuscation in the first place. Those who worked closely with Obfuscation were found lying dead of starvation, their minds wiped clean by their constant proximity to it.

Name: The Player
Gender: Male
Font color: #AA3333
Race: Leviath
Description: The Player is playing a video game starring Agent 7. He has only played it through once before, and is not very used to video games, so he still makes plenty of mistakes. Fortunately, he got the worst out of his system in his first run.

Naturally, Agent 7 knows nothing of this, and thinks he's living his own life, for the first and only time.

Name: Agent 7 (James Pilgrim)
Gender: Male
Font color: #3333AA
Race: Millet
Weapons/Abilities: Agent 7 is capable of breathing both air and water, making him a valuable asset as a spy. He is also able to breathe fire, a trait common to his species. To be more accurate, he doesn't so much breathe fire as emit a flammable gas from his maw and then use a special organ on the roof of his mouth to cause a spark, lighting it on fire, but it has much the same effect, if those he uses it on are anything to judge by.

While Agent 7 has a license to kill, and has exercised it occasionally, his personal weapon of choice is a stungun modeled from early-era revolvers. It uses only electrical charges and thus does not require ammunition, although it takes time to regenerate charges after they're used. Getting shot by the stungun will cause a feeling of complete numbness for half an hour and gives the victim the feeling of being drained of energy; successive hits will result in unconsciousness. The stungun makes only a quiet bzzt noise when it fires, and the shots move extremely fast, so it's hard to tell where they came from; this makes it a good weapon for infiltration.

When Agent 7 was taken from a video game, he automatically brought a chunk of the video game's world with him, effectively creating a field around him (approximately a yard in radius) where all objects are forced to obey the video game's logic. Cover is indestructable, any injury will vanish if no other damage is taken for about 15 seconds, and he may carry an infinite number of items without having to worry about weight or space.

Description: Agent 7 is a 4'7" tall humanoid fish, although most people refer to his species as "fucking lake monsters." He has two legs for standing on and four muscular arms coming off of his torso. His skin is covered in scales, and his insides are fireproof in order to protect against his fire breath. He has gills lining the sides of his neck, but he only uses them when he needs to breathe underwater. Like the rest of his species, his scales are mostly green, making it difficult for the untrained eye to pick him out in a crowd of other Millets. He has ten small fish eyes all over his head, allowing him to see in all directions. He wears a tuxedo with an abnormal number of pockets while on missions.

Biography:

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SpoilerAgent 7 peered around the corner. Two guards were patrolling ahead. He waited until they had both turned around and walked off in opposite directions, then dashed quietly down the hallway, turning to face the back of one of the retreating guards. He peered down the sights of his stungun, taking a moment to line up his shot, then fired five charges into the back of the guard's head. He fell quietly to the floor, and Agent 7 spun around in almost two-thirds of a circle, then hastily corrected his angle so he was facing the other hallway. He aimed his gun at the back of the remaining guard, firing four charges into his head and causing him to fall the ground unconscious like his partner. He stood there for a moment, fish eyes blinking, then headed down the hallway belonging to the guard he had just knocked out, taking a moment to bend down and rifle through the man's pockets for his ID card. He tucked it into one of his pockets before moving on. A glowing white circle lay on the floor just before a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, pale translucent flames flaring up at its borders. Agent 7 stepped into it, and it glowed brightly as the words "CHECKPOINT REACHED" appeared above his head, drifting upward and becoming more insubstantial until they vanished.

The hallway opened into a dining hall, full of tables, most of which weren't even set. A few waiters were busy covering tables with cloth, and when Agent 7 walked in they screamed and ran off. Six guards with rifles marched out from the other end of the room and began to take aim at Agent 7. Ignoring the bullets whizzing past him, he ran over to nearest table and lifted up long side, tipping the table over to form a barrier. A bullet hit him in the shoulder and he flashed red for a brief moment; then another hit him, and he flashed red again, but retained a slightly red tinge afterwards. Agent 7 wasted no time taking cover, ducking down behind the table. He paused for a few moments as the red tinge faded away, leaving him his normal color. Then, without warning, he jumped up from the table, spinning around and nailing one of the guards twice with his stungun, then ducked back behind cover. The guard fumbled woodenly with his gun, but only managed to drop it on the floor.

"...wait, it makes people drop their weapons? I didn't know that. Maybe this gun isn't so useless after all."

Agent 7 spun up from cover and aimed at another one of the guard so he could land two shots on him and force him to drop his weapon as well, ignoring the fire he took while doing so. He ducked back down behind the table until the red tinge faded, then repeated the process with each of the guards. Once they had all lost their weapons, he vaulted over the table he was hiding behind and ran up to the one in front of it, which he kicked down as well.

"What? Isn't that the button for vaulting? Ugh."

Agent 7 backed away from the table and moved between the rows, running straight between the tables and towards the guards. Once there, he began swinging at the air while moving towards each guard. When he reached one, he karate-chopped their legs out from underneath them and bonked them on the head, rendering them unconscious. The guards were too busy fumbling with their weapons to pay attention to Agent 7, and in less than a minute they were all out cold. A bright green checkmark appeared above Agent 7, and was quickly replaced by the flashing words "ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: SLUMBER PARTY." He dusted his hands off, matching the top two and the bottom two together. "And that's how you take out the--"

And then he was gone.

The Player blinked and leaned closer to the screen. "Wait, why is it all dark? I don't remember this happening on my other run." He paused, then shrugged. "Well, I did hear pacifist runs lead to some huge story differences. I'll just keep going until I hit the next save point."