Objective: Survive Reboot (RP)

Joeyray's Bar
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The air was thick in the shrinking shuttle. Jason's mind begged to be freed from the closing walls. His eyes slammed shut and he rubbed them vigorously.

"Okay, lets clear the LZ before we make our next move."
Digging up a backpack, Hammer loosens the straps as far as they go, still barely fitting over his armored shoulders. Taking the pack back off, he starts filling it up with spare ammo and food.

Storing the armor patches, I pull out my gun, doing a quick systems check only to find it's heavier weapons inoperable;
"Well sh!t. No heavy weapons out of me."
Getting everyone lined up for the exit from the dropship, I glance back at Sam and snort. "Right now, heavy is the last thing we need." Standing by the control panel, I nod to Jason and hit the button, letting the ramp lower before signalling them all to move out, following close behind at the rear. "Once we're sure it's clear, we head for something that doesn't stick out like a sore thumb, like a cave."
Being the closest and most eager, Jason led the squad out of the shuttle hurriedly. He took the first blast of fresh air with a deep inhale. Though it was better circulated, the stench of dead rotting corpses overpowered Jason's ability to retain a normal facial expression. His face formed into a sneer and he grunted in disgust as his eyes followed his rifle in scanning the surroundings.

Numerous carcasses of rotting spine and spore crawlers littered the area. Flies swarmed over deceased zerg whom also lay scattered across the terrain. Jason took cautious steps down the ramp before lowering his rifle and looking around. He stood in a large ravine with a small stream in the distance.

Jason looked back,

"Not exactly what I expected." He admitted, rolling his shoulders at the extra elbowroom provided by the lack of steel walls or ceiling.
Disassembling the glaive I'd poised in my hand to dismember the first foe I saw, I look over the carcasses with a cross between distaste and a smile. "Well, me either, but I'm damn glad for it. Now then...how far from the LZ are we..." Pulling up a map of the mission area on my HUD, I spend a couple minutes scrolling with my eyes before finally finding where we were supposed to put down.

"Ah hell," I spew. "We're near twenty klicks south of where we were supposed to land and disembark." Closing the map, I look back at the men, and women, as they looked at the mess. "Alright, let's see if we can't find some indication of what wiped out this large a Zerg defensive line. I'd really rather not run into it."

Approaching the truncated remains of an Ultralisk, I whistle at the size of it and the fact that it had been brought down so easily. "Damn. Rough day for this guy, that's for sure." Taking a knee near one of it's forelegs, I begin running a diagnostic scan, looking for the cause of death, or at least a clue to it's cause. After about ten minutes, the scanner identifies an unidentified toxin in the brain of the monster, along with several large cuts delivered to it's underside, effectively spilling the behemoth's organs onto the ground for it to crush itself. Frowning, I send the toxin discovery to the other team members. "Look for anything like this in their system. It's our best lead."

Turning from the beast, I look up at the cliffs above us, noting that the crawlers all shared a similar organic breakdown to the Ultralisk, but let it be. Suicide awaited anyone that climbed a wall in uncharted territory.

DM: Ten klicks from where the drop ship had crashed, a small Terran settlement sat to their east, though the things outside it weren't all human anymore. Many showed the signs of early infestation, though somehow retained their sanity and memories. From there, it ranged from fully infested with claws and gauss rifles and tentacles galore to survivors hiding behind barricaded doors and windows, the gate locked and manned at all times, knowing what would happen if they left the the relative safety of their homes. Still, every now and then an adult would vanish from the village through a hole in the wall that wasn't there ten minutes prior. What few marines and firebats were left stayed up on the walls or patrolling them, knowing that the beasts wouldn't come through if they were near.

A young marine, with bright blue eyes, freckled cheeks and platinum blonde hair had watched the drop ship crash. Rushing to the village leader, he raps on the door loudly. "Sir, another shuttle crashed! Open the door!" Slowly the call was heeded and the door creaked open, revealing an older gentleman no older than forty three with wrinkles on his face, white hair falling out, and bags under his eyes from no sleep.

"How far, how far into...their territory?" The young marine things before nodding to himself.

"About ten klicks out. Think they're here about that other crash?" The leader doesn't answer the question, just slowly close the door, a small prayer being uttered under his breath.

"Return to your post, there's no hope for them." With those final words, the door closes and the young man frowns, slowly trudging back to his post while mulling over the possibilities in his head.

They'll make it. I can feel it in my gut.
While Teo scrolled through something on his HUD, Jason loosely stood a few paces in front of him and farthest from the shuttle. Again, he tipped with dizziness. The stench of death made him noxious. His eyes grew tense and he couldn't help but give in to the overwhelming urge to slam them shut. His face caved in on his eye sockets as he continued to sway back and forth.

Timothy's voice still lingered in Jason's head. His voice always seemed so frantic, so worry-stricken. The constant gunfire from the Brood Wars could still be heard subtly in the back of Jason's mind. Fort Luther... The place his comrades almost abandoned him. Had Tim not knocked some sense of dignity and honor back into them, Jason would have died that day.

Delta squadron was completely wiped out that day. Everyone except Gavin's company perished along with Fort Luther. Gavin's company was built of friendships and close comrades. The same couldn't necessarily be said for the squad Jason found himself with now.

Does this squad have a 'Timothy'? Someone who's willing to drag an unconscious comrade half a mile while under constant attack from the zerg? Even when everyone else is demanding they leave the wounded behind in order to ensure the survival of the rest of the squad?

The question thrust itself to the forefront of Jason's mind. He quietly examined each squad member with an expressionless face.
Might wanna read my edit, Mark.
Holy crap. Now that's an edit. You tripled the size of the post!

I hope you stick to Starcraft lore on this. Nothing would be more of a buzzkill than if we all ran into shades and other, non Starcraft related things. Now I'm not saying not to be creative, I'm just hoping you don't do anything absurd.
Making his way over to the dead Ultra, Hammer kneels down next to it and does what can only be described as sniffing the corpse. After a couple of moments he stands up and steps back, shaking his head in disgust;
"This isn't good... We need to get moving."

Observing the decaying zerg with a twinge of my stomach, I let out a whistle;
"I'll agree with Hammer on this one; This is !@#$ed."

Thanks. Missed that one.
Alison? I believe you mean Sam ;)

Hammer is definitely not a 'Timothy'... Jason thought to himself as he moped over to the ultralisk corpse and "sniffed" it like the mountain giant he was.

Sam... ? Hard to tell. Though kind on the outside, Jason trusted the demon inside her to pull atrocious moves in order to ensure survival.

Waking from his mental stupor, Jason observed what the others were spectating and pretended to take notice to whatever they were fretting about.
I plan on sticking to lore, don't worry. Only shades in this RP will be the ones in your memories. And the funny/cool thing about that edit is that I did it with an upset stomach, massive headache, chills, and sore body. How's that for innovation?

IC: Noticing everyone looking at the Ultralisk I'd just scanned, I sigh and point at the other carcasses. "Well come on, we got plenty of other bodies to look at, not just the one Ultralisk. I want to know if there was one thing involved or a whole bloody army!" Moving onto a beheaded Zergling, I run the same scan, mumbling under my breath about easily distracted squad mates.
Oy vey. Get better soon.

Grumbling, I make my way over to dead roach and quickly find a similar cause of death; a gutted stomach and the same unknown toxin;
"Whatever killed the ultra, killed this roach!"
I call out.
01/04/2014 03:11 PMPosted by Zarkun
Still not that impressed.


Approaching Sam from behind, Jason awkwardly cleared his throat and didn't even try to play it off like he was paying attention.

"I'm sorry, what exactly killed the ultra and roach?"

This was seriously going to be good. It's got the right ingredients, good characters, good plot, good buildup, good set, (mostly) active DM... Yet it still died.

I'm considering hijacking it until we get word from Zarkun? Thoughts?
I completely forgot i was in this... Sure I guess.
If people would post, I'd continue this. BUT, I need posts to work with. War, this is waiting on you.

01/10/2014 12:01 AMPosted by SpacePirate
Approaching Sam from behind, Jason awkwardly cleared his throat and didn't even try to play it off like he was paying attention.

"I'm sorry, what exactly killed the ultra and roach?"
You're the DM, Zarkun... You can just move on if need be :P Or you could have asked Warhawk, oh, I don't know, a month ago when I made that post?

It's all good, I know you were really busy and stuff just happened. Just don't blame-shift.
I'm not, but I'm also not going to cheat you of character interaction. Moving this forward isn't super important, though some of the others in this RP could post themselves doing things.
So where would I be exactly?
Just outside the dropship. We're still investigating the dead bodies.

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