The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsgolegion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2017-01-03 12:57 am
Entry tags:
SILENT HORIZON - [Part 1: The In-Between] [modplot]
Who| Everyone who signed up
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
What| 2 spoopy
Where| In The In-Between, the pocket dimension inside the Silent Horizon
When| After Valor's Day. Mission starts shortly before "No Sanity Clause" and runs simultaneously in game time
Warnings/Notes| Potential warnings for EVERYTHING. This is a horror plot that may tread a lot of ground. Please keep in mind that you can stumble on disturbing stuff in almost any thread. We advise all players to put warnings in the subjects of threads when they lean towards cut-worthy stuff.
The mission was simple. The team had to board the derelict Silent Horizon, a ship with an experimental stardrive, after it finally reappeared in UP space, many hours after it was supposed to reappear, during its first field test. No life signs were aboard, but the presence of several Roboticans on the crew -- who were undetectable by bioscan -- meant that the ship had to be boarded to make sure the Robotican crewmen were gone, too.
The United Planets government, concerned about the loss of the crew members, asked the Legion to step in, in case the threat on board was of a metapowered nature. Due to the massive danger implied by an entire starship crew going missing, the response team sent on the mission was relatively large, more than enough to handle any hostiles. None of this "we'll just send one tiny team to go alone into a giant starship against an unknown threat" business. No, if there was a hostile force on the ship, the plan was "let's drop 25+ Legionnaires on its head." Safety in numbers.
It was a good idea. In theory. In most cases, it would've given them the edge that would've let them face something very nasty without succumbing to it themselves. But in practice, it just meant that it was a much larger team that suddenly went missing after watching the last video log of the previous crew on the command deck.
Screams poured out of the screen the moment it started to play -- automatically -- when they entered the command deck. Onscreen, they saw the original crew murdering each other, tearing each other apart in a blood-soaked rampage.
"Wait, stop! What's wrong with everyone? Why are you --?" cried out one of the Robotican crew members, clearly immune from whatever was causing the madness, but his cries went unheeded as one of his Coluan crew-mates bashed his head clean off with a chair.
After the video played, the darkness swept in, wrapping around the whole team of Legionnaires, making them feel frozen all the way down to their bones and stealing consciousness away from them. When they woke again, they all found themselves separated, waking up in a realm of nightmares.
The halls breathe here -- at least in the places that have walls. They flex in and out, like the passageways inside the lungs. Sometimes the walls give way to open nightmare-scapes, remote and foggy, or bright and alien and exposed. The landscape bends and shifts around them, reacting to their thoughts and fears. And every so often, far off, there is the pitter-pat of something strange moving through this place. Like the sound of many feet -- or hands -- slapping against the ground or flesh-walls.
At some point, there is always a voice that each of them hears, tinny and robotic and distant, warning them of a being called the Faceless, that rules this realm. They're told not to feed from his blood, that if they do they'll be made a part of this place. If they accept his offer, and change forms, they'll eventually bleed to death, and if the Faceless isn't stopped before they die, those that die in their mutated forms will belong to him forever.
It's not the only voice they'll hear, though. This is a land filled with whispers. And screams. And the sounds of begging sometimes, too.
And for some of the Legionnaires, the In-Between speaks to them, touches something deep and dark inside them -- and it's calling them home.
Rocket
Halls shouldn't be made of meat. It was one of those general rules of life that weren't supposed to violated.
The sound of pattering made him swing around, pointing his gun in the direction of the noise and laying his ears back. "Okay, see, situations like this? Situations like this is why the whole 'non-lethal' thing is stupid. I gotta make more bombs. Bombs're non-lethal, if you're in the opposite direction."
Despite his best efforts, the complaining wasn't as much of a distraction from the feeling of creeping fear as he would've liked. Rocket bristled as he walked forward again, ready to unleash a load of non-lethal but still painful shots at the first thing to surprise him.
no subject
Here where he was caught up in more of that fleshy wall stuff, pinned by debris and wires and some sort of mass of fleshy tendrils. If he held still too damn long he was gonna get absorbed at this rate.
no subject
"How did-did you try to fight the wall and lose? Hang on." He began trying to pry away at the mess, shoving debris, picking at wires, and flat out clawing at the tendrils with his nails to try and clear it away. "Seriously. How?"
no subject
Which makes getting around a bit of a bitch when you're in armor and never sure what will or won't hold your weight. Between his struggling and Rocket he manages to drag his leg free, sawing at one of the thicker bands with a knife. "That and I'm just that kinda lucky."
no subject
After a moment, he added, "Hey, you think any of this crap could be explosive?" If they had the wiring and the things richly deserving of being blown to chunky bits, well...maybe the debris could actually come in handy.
no subject
Then it was a question of where they were, if they could damage the hull, if they'd end up sucked out into space afterward- or if they'd blow the engine. "Some of the glowing shit gave off the 'sneeze and I'll explode' vibe but- glowing sacks of flesh. Do you really wanna cart that around?"
no subject
Rocket began to pick through the bits of junk in the remainder of the wall carefully, shaking his head. "Glowing sacks of flesh, no, stuff I can stick together, yeah, but all of this is looking like crap." He huffed in annoyance as he stepped back from the wall, just in case it started going squishy again. "Great."
no subject
Shit he never thought he'd say. York pulls himself upright and scrapes some of the gunk off his armor, groaning. "It's gonna take forever to get clean. And that's IF we get out of here."
no subject
Rocket glances at York's armor, then peers up at York's face, frowning. "You're making me the optimistic one here. Don't do that. That just reinforces how screwed we are."
no subject
"Yeah not really, we're five kinds of fucked if we don't start making our own doors." Finding their way through here is five kinds of impossible because nothing makes sense. "What, aren't talking animal types supposed to be the optimists in our merry band of misfits?"
no subject
To where isn't clear yet, just to somewhere...less fleshy.
no subject
Gross.
"That door looks mostly clear." Ish. Relatively.
no subject
And when some visible movement finally came into range along with the sound, that, too, was slow and careful, before a white dog with the Legion badge on his collar emerged from the shadows, sniffing curiously as it watched Rocket down the barrel of his gun.
no subject
Rocket swung his gun around, still on alert for anything else that happened to be creeping out of the dark. "You found anybody else yet?"
no subject
Probably a "no" on that one, Rocket.
no subject
"Fine. Can't talk, can probably bite. I can work with that. C'mon."
no subject