WYRDYSM GAMES

<center>

</center>

As the group slowly comes to, awakening from cryosleep, they hear an automated voice;

Breaching detected in Pod 01...

There is a loud thump and crack, then an odd sounding, muffled roar. Another thump and then shattering as the glass breaks.

Override... Pod 02 opening...

The glass on your own pods is still frosted up badly. All you can see is a humanoid lumbering around. A shh-thunk sounds as the second pod opens. Another humanoid steps out. The other turns around and makes an odd groaning sound.

--

(That... ain't human. Well... was human. Now it ain't. This isn't good!) I thought. Whatever it was, it wasn't friendly either. The other pods were closed, but occupied and warming up.

The nonhuman thing advanced towards me, stumbling a little as it dragged its feet on the tile floor. I backed towards the wall - it was between me and the door out. Not good.

Suddenly, I hit a table. Keeping on looking at the thing as it dragged itself towards me, I reached back with one hand, scrambling on the desk for something, anything... aha! A pistol of some kind! Beats going hand to hand with a braindead cryoburn victim...

I swung the pistol around and cracked the sub-human thing on the side of the head, sending it tumbling towards one of the pods. It slammed into the door, sending cracks through the flimsy glass, but it quickly recovered, groaning incoherently as it spun to face me. I moved around, getting so I was between it and the door...

It obviously wasn't going to give up without a fight. I primed the pistol. The cell was almost dry and the diagnostics marker was a bright red. A miracle this thing was even running... I only had one shot, and had to make it count. I brought the pistol up and aimed along to ironsights, then fired.

*ZZZ-WOOMF!*

A red bolt of plasma shot out of the barrel and blew the thing's head into a fine mist. The body tumbled to the floor. Then the pistol beeped irritatedly, then started beeping repeatedly. I hurled it to the far side of the room and it shattered apart as it hit the wall, the tiny speaker emitting a shaky "overload averted" as it failed.

(Whew. Now to see who else we have here.) I thought as I checked out the pods...

--

Having witnessed that little spectacle from inside your pods, you see the gunman start checking out the pod readouts. He then moves and boots the corpse in the side just to make sure it's dead, and goes to lean against the table whilst the rest of you wake up... after a few more moments, your pods slide open and the warm, dusty air hits you like a freight train compared to the cool, clean air from the pods.

"Rise and shine, gents. Guess I'm not the only one who's still alive out of us, huh?" the gunman grins.

_________________
　 ／l、
ﾞ（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
　l、ﾞ ~ヽ
　じしf_, )ノ

Coriyannah fumbles out of her cryostasis chamber almost as soon as it opens and takes a deep breath, veridian eyelids closing over her large and intensely blue eyes, quivering a little, "Mmm... something's been burning." She mumbles to herself, a four-digited hand lightly stroking over the stastis pod that she'd just emerged from, long, three-jointed fingers feeling the texture of it idly.

Finally, after a moment her eyes snap open, that incredibly intense blue gaze focusing soley on the man who had shot the mindless creature - the smoking remains of which were now giving off wonderful, carbon rich fumes, making the arboreal alien feel slightly light-head. After silently appraising the shooter for a moment, she steps towards another of the pods, examining it curiously, "Odd... I remember small details... my name, my species, my homeworld... but everything else is faded and uncertain. Perhaps the stasis is having some negative effects on my long term memory..."

Finally, she returns her attention back to the shooter, one hand rising to brush dewy, moss-like hair back from her face, her tone suddenly quite firm, "Do you know anything about this?"

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Z'anh feels his heart race as the duel outside ends, thoroughly worried due to this; his intial panic about his whereabouts subsides and is replaced by fear for his life. As his pod opens he prepares himself and steps out as calmly as he can.

Z'anh then spots the other alien getting out and asking in Standard what's happening. Realising that he also knows nothing he waits for an answer...

A wisp. A puff of cold air in the breeze. Everything was a blur.

So cold.

He was trapped. A clear glass barrier was presented before him. His brain was barely functioning.

A smash. A roar. A harsh flash of red light. Silence

Violence was a great focusing agent.

A sudden burst of facts came tumbling through the recently awoken creature's mind. My name is K'haunir Drakh. My home is Aurora 5. I am a Rillian.

This sudden onrush of facts gave him a headache. He wasn't good at processing. However, what galled him was what was left out. K'haunir Drakh was just a name. Aurora 5 was a lump of rock in space that happened to be part of the small Rillian empire. There were billions of Rillians throughout the galaxy, of which he could be any. He couldn't even tell what clan he was from. Other than a name and a home, he didn't even know who he was.

Just focus on the here and now. That's more important.

He tried to force himself to wake up. As the temperature rose, his senses came into focus. His keen hearing picked up a low electrical hum.

Not Aurora, then.

The clear barrier fell away before him. His hearing picked up a string of words.

"Rise and shine, gents. Guess I'm not the only one who's still alive out of us, huh?"

He sniffed the air. It was full of dust and other polutants. He sniffed again.

Blood.

The scent of a kill brought him into complete focus. He eyed the scene before him. A grinning male human. The one who uttered the greeting to him. A female OvanisTal. A male Xylian.

A headless corpse, its brains sprayed out in a fine mist on the wall behind it.

K'haunir had no patience for mysteries. He was going to get some answers.

_________________
I have to kill fast and bullets are too slow.

OOC: What the hell, guys? It's been over 24 hours, and only three IC posts have been made. Get your acts together! Keeping the rest of us waiting.

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Everything was hazy until the thing crashed through my pod, clearing my view.
After that I could see the frantic movement of some frail human and another, but this one different, animalistic. Its movements ended a flash of red light, leaving an afterimage from that pistol in that humans hands.

Others walked out of the pods before me, species he had never seen before. So far, there was only the one human.
Then the glef hormones kicked in. Too late to help me fight, all that happened was that the glee and euphoria set in, and everything slowed down the slightest bit. I brushed aside the chunk of door left, and stepped out laughing at the headless body.

Arrich panicked as the wake-drugs from the pod pulsed through his veins, and thumped heavily with the balls of his hands against the pod door in a futile attempt to open it. His handprints left behind faint smudges on the frosted surface, but the door did not budge.

He looked wild-eyed at the unfolding scene, the fuzziness from the chemical cocktail fading just as fast as it had stirred him into a fight or flight panic. Spatters of steaming blood and viscera sprayed grimly across the glass as the plasma blast ripped through the head of the... thing... and Arrich almost vomited in disgust.

Another moment of fear gripped him - who was he? What was this place? What was going on and why was he here? Faint memories supplied him with the answer to the first, but as to the rest - he could only guess.

It was only then that the pod door slid sideways; relieved, he slumped forwards out of it, ripping diagnostic equipment from his exposed arms and forehead, and staggered down to one knee on the floor panting heavily. Again, he almost retched, though the dry heave brought up nothing from his cryo-prepped stomach. Taking a quick glance around at the rest of the opening pods, he scurried away from the body and the gunman and attempted to slink out of sight.

_________________
[/post]

A delicate cocktail of chemical stimulants, balanced just so to achieve the desired effect in a specific organism, depending on perfect identification from a universe full of options, sitting for unrevealed ages next to tons of machinery at extreme temperatures. What could go wrong?

As unseen signals start the thaw, one Jerome Briggs begins to warm up, his blood flowing and lungs moving as those same chemicals course through his veins. Outside, a battle begins. Beside him, curious eyes try to gather information. Inside, this particular tube, however, the occupant slowly slumps forward against the glass and begins to snore. This state of affairs continues unabated until the tube, quite inconsiderately, opens, and Jerome falls unceremoniously to the floor with a thud.

Stunned, the poor man tries to figure out just what he did to the floor that warranted this sort of punishment visited upon his face, and quickly scrambles to put as much distance between his face and the floor, declaring authoritatively "Okay, I'm up!"

He surveys the area for a moment before declaring, just as authoritatively "I have absolutely no idea where I am, or who any of you are."

_________________
seriously sws. seriously oh my gawd seriously.

Author of [url=http://www.wyrdysm.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=896]DAF[/url] and [url=http://www.wyrdysm.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=1155]Sillyness[/url]
Co-founder [url=http://forums.relicnews.com/showthread.php?t=198445]Homeworld:@[/url]

The gunman shrugs, glancing at the gently smoking and rapidly cooling corpse.

"To be frank, I have about as much of an idea about this place as ya'll do."

Unfortunately, there is nowhere for Arrich to run, and he's rather unceremoniously hauled back to the group by the gunman. "You're in this with the rest of us, kid, so stand over here and get with the program." He grins. Now that you can all see the man better, he's about 6'3", and wearing an unfamiliar design of black combat armour, minus helmet. He looks like a soldier, maybe more a mercenary. Several scars run across the left side of his face, like some kind of injury from something with claws.

The shoulders of his suit are marked with "KMC" in white lettering with a blue ring around it, and the back is marked with "KMCSF" in big white letters and a similar blue ring. A similar ringed "KMC" logo is on the suit's left breast.

"I'm gathering that I'm not the only one of us suffering from a nasty case of amnesia going by the questioning. What I can tell is that this place is a mess, and we're right in the middle of it." He walks over to the door and hammers on it. It doesn't budge, and there's no response.

"And I don't know about the rest of you, but I intend on finding out who put us here, why we're here, and what this place was made for. This room ain't gonna tell us anything more. All in favour of finding a way outta this heap, come gimme a hand with this door!"

_________________
　 ／l、
ﾞ（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
　l、ﾞ ~ヽ
　じしf_, )ノ

Still influenced by the last of the glef hormones, Elar chuckles.

"Human, let me help you with that."
Elar starts to throw his full strength into beating down the door, making huge dents with each bash of his shoulder.
In between smashes he grunts " By the... way... what's.... your... name?"

The door gives way after a couple of moments, crumpling quickly under the assault. The gunman slips out into the corridor and surveys the scene, then pokes his head back in.

"All clear. Me? I don't remember much... Kyle Denholm. That's about it."

He goes back to looking around, glancing left and right like he's expecting company. The corridor is bare and slightly dusty. The lighting is off, but the far wall has several heavy-shuttered windows which open onto a barely-visible desert landscape. Oddly orange-tinted sunlight pours through narrow gaps in the shutters, illuminating dust motes floating in the air.

"Well we ain't gonna be getting out the windows... left or right, take your pick folks."

The corridor corners and heads off to the south on the left path, and ends in a small doorway to the right. The sign over it is dusty, but reads "SECURITY OFFICES" in Standard.

_________________
　 ／l、
ﾞ（ﾟ､ ｡ ７
　l、ﾞ ~ヽ
　じしf_, )ノ

Coriyannah watches with an amused expression in her bright blue eyes, lips curling into a faint smile as the remaining pods open and the inhabitants emerge one after the other, some in particularly entertaining manners. She startles a little as the pod she's standing next to opens up, only to reveal a sleeping human who falls forward, hitting the ground with a loud thud that ellicits a small wince from the OvanisTal.

She glances around the room, putting each member of the group under intense scrutiny, before stepping past the large Elar and into the hallway, through the smashed apart door, "Well, this is strange. We all seem to have mild amnesia, and we're in a military facility of some sort."

She turns back to face the group, offering a warm and friendly smile, which would probably make most humans uncomfortable, due to the rows upon rows of sharp, pointed teeth, specifically designed for tearing apart flesh, "I'm Coriyannah, and I propose that we all try and find out what the hell is going on here. All in favour?"

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer

Z'anh is still completely and utterly beweildered by what's happening. He analyses the strange mix of beings surrounding him and identifies that he knows nothing about them. He decides to follow the others in the hope of finding a solution or even just a weapon to defend himself.

"Let's get moving"

No use in standing here he thought. He remembers the old Terran cliche of "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." and wonders whether he will need to apply it here.

"What you looking at?" He directs at Coriyannah and bares his teeth in a similarily toothy snarl to her grin

K'haunir glanced at the rest of the group, stalking out of the room behind the bulky Crawn who had just battered down the door. It was clear that none of them were in any position to give him any answers. He had hoped that they would have been more useful to him in this regard. Not that they still couldn't be of use though. He still had to find out what was going on, one way or another, not to mention escape. The corpse in the last room was all the evidence he needed to demonstrate that this place wasn't friendly, and he would need all the help that he could get.

Still, he wasn't sure he trusted some of the people around him. The smile from the Ovanis' Tal made his spines bristle in response. He was careful not to let the human who had tried to sneak away out of his sight for too long.

He glanced out of the window, spying the arid desert outside. He had no idea where he was. He let out a low hiss of frustration.

Nothing to do but move on.

_________________
I have to kill fast and bullets are too slow.

Coriyannah lofts a brow, chuckling a little at Z'ahn's response to her grin, her piercing blue gaze shifting towards Arrich, and then Jerome, making note of their distinct inactivity, "Well then, if these guys aren't going to start moving, then I propose... lunch." She states simply, staring at the humans with a wickedly toothy grin.

_________________
Founder and Event Coordinator for the BSF Beauty Pageant. Founder of the Pseudo-Chainship Project. Admin. Games Master.
Quality Control Enforcer