Re: Mini-Grand 5105 (Round 1: Bernal Sphere Upsilon)
08-28-2011, 11:28 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Agent1022.
Well, that certainly was interesting, wot wot. I’m afraid I have some terrible news: It is entirely possible that I may have...misplaced...the round I’d originally intended for you chaps. But! But-but but, I’ve had a look through some of the Paradox Shards - you know the ones, leftover bits from abandoned timelines - and I’ve found the perfect round for you!
There was a moment of lack, of black, of nothing, then the contestants found themselves underneath a clearly artificial sky, projected on the inside of a gigantic dome. It was clearly artificial because many of the holographic panels were not transmitting the overcast day they were obviously meant to, but were rather simply displaying static. In front of them was a strip of desert, nearly half a kilometer wide, stretching from one side of the dome to another. On either edge of the desert a forest abruptly bloomed, creating a biosphere which was efficient, yet almost painfully unnatural. Here and there rivers were seen to cross the desert strip, somehow failing to nourish the dead ground it flowed over yet easily fueling the living.
Welcome to Game Planet Dome...oh bugger, I had it written down somewhere...#421! #000000000421, to be properly exact, but there’s no sense in being overly nitpicky now, is there? The whole bloody planet’s covered in these domes, you know. It started off being a penal colony, then don’t you know, there’s an insane and powerful being that takes over..and then he died and the whole timeline went to absolute buggerall. He spent his whole rule turning the prison domes into sick manhunting "games"...
For the first time, the contestants realized that time had stopped, and they were watching a frozen firefight. They felt their attention drawn to the bullets hanging through the air, then to the prison-garb-clad shooters.
Poor blighters. They’re all forced to kill one of their number every 365 days. They’ve got little brain monitors that check their killcount, and passes out the pain if they don’t match up.
Most of the ‘poor blighters’ wore insane looks of glee, various contestants noted.
All bloody right, perhaps some of them have gotten a little unhinged. What did you expect, this was a prison after all. What you see here is more or less the default state of affairs. I suppose...I’ve blathered on enough. All right! You know the drill - one of you dies, and then we move on! Get to it! Pip pip!
Well, that certainly was interesting, wot wot. I’m afraid I have some terrible news: It is entirely possible that I may have...misplaced...the round I’d originally intended for you chaps. But! But-but but, I’ve had a look through some of the Paradox Shards - you know the ones, leftover bits from abandoned timelines - and I’ve found the perfect round for you!
There was a moment of lack, of black, of nothing, then the contestants found themselves underneath a clearly artificial sky, projected on the inside of a gigantic dome. It was clearly artificial because many of the holographic panels were not transmitting the overcast day they were obviously meant to, but were rather simply displaying static. In front of them was a strip of desert, nearly half a kilometer wide, stretching from one side of the dome to another. On either edge of the desert a forest abruptly bloomed, creating a biosphere which was efficient, yet almost painfully unnatural. Here and there rivers were seen to cross the desert strip, somehow failing to nourish the dead ground it flowed over yet easily fueling the living.
Welcome to Game Planet Dome...oh bugger, I had it written down somewhere...#421! #000000000421, to be properly exact, but there’s no sense in being overly nitpicky now, is there? The whole bloody planet’s covered in these domes, you know. It started off being a penal colony, then don’t you know, there’s an insane and powerful being that takes over..and then he died and the whole timeline went to absolute buggerall. He spent his whole rule turning the prison domes into sick manhunting "games"...
For the first time, the contestants realized that time had stopped, and they were watching a frozen firefight. They felt their attention drawn to the bullets hanging through the air, then to the prison-garb-clad shooters.
Poor blighters. They’re all forced to kill one of their number every 365 days. They’ve got little brain monitors that check their killcount, and passes out the pain if they don’t match up.
Most of the ‘poor blighters’ wore insane looks of glee, various contestants noted.
All bloody right, perhaps some of them have gotten a little unhinged. What did you expect, this was a prison after all. What you see here is more or less the default state of affairs. I suppose...I’ve blathered on enough. All right! You know the drill - one of you dies, and then we move on! Get to it! Pip pip!
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So very British / But then again | People are machines Machines are people | Oh hai there | There's no time
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Superhero 1920s noir | Multigenre Half-Life | Changing the future | Command line interface
Tu ventire felix? | Clockwork for eternity | Explosions in spacetime