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legionmissions2016-09-27 01:58 am
legionnpcs) wrote in legionmissions2016-09-27 01:58 am
Welcome to Murderworld - [modplot] [Arena Start]
Who| Everyone in Murderworld plot
What| Arena Start
Where| All throughout the Arena
When| N/a
Warnings/Notes| Just the usual psycho supervillain monologue stuff
They all wake up scattered throughout Murderworld, some of them alone, some of them with partners, some of them clustered together. Each will find themselves in strange new surrounds. None of them will have any recollection of how they got there. One minute they were on their spy mission, then there was the feeling of being stunned from behind.
They awaken at the exact same time as their captor gives their nervous systems a jolt via the nanites in the air. For a moment, they just hear a man's jeering
"Wakey wakey."
When they're all awake, the voice continues on.
"You know, I'm jealous of you Legionnaires. After this, you're going to go down in infamy. Footage of your every move is being streamed live to Harrub's political and financial elite, and after that daring attempt at spying and what I'm sure will be your equally daring attempts at escape and rescue, this is going to be an arena they never forget."
Near each of them, a huge, colorful hologram sparks to life, revealing the image of a man.
"Who's the badass bogeyman with his own planetoid?"
"Now I know what you're wondering. The four W's. Who am I? Oh, I'm just someone that fell through that space rift on Phelolu and got recruited by parties with certain...interests. Since then, I've been working for the Harrubian government. The name's Arcade."
"What is this? This happens to be my best work yet. The Harrubians in charge used to get rid of political dissidents and their families the old-fashioned way -- with a bullet to the back of the melon and a shallow, unmarked grave -- but I've spiced things up. Now they fight for their lives in my arenas -- a little idea I got from a series of kids' books I read in the pen. Once a month, a sizable number of Harrubian deplorables enter, and by the end of the month, only one leaves."
"'Why me?' you're probably asking, but you already know the answer to that one. You nosed in just a little too much around Harrub and now the Harrubian government wants you gone. Lucky for them and unlucky for you, a few members of the UP council wanted you gone just as much and tipped them off about your spying. Politicians, amirite? Can't live with 'em -- and in your case, Legionnaires, that's especially true. The UP biting the hand that protects them, when this isn't even your home universe -- that has got to hurt."
"Where are you? This is my master work. See, I really love watching people die -- I'm a little sick in the head, what're you gonna do? For years, I used to build these elaborate superhero death traps, but my dead-superhero-to-deathtrap ratio was embarrassingly low. So when I got pulled into this universe, I decided to shake things up a bit. This planetoid is filled with my mercenary Tributes that...help things along, as well as traps, monsters, dangerous terrain, and paranoid dissidents so desperate to save their own miserable lives they'll knock your brains out with a rock over a hunk of cheese."
"An impenetrable shield is around the entire arena, blocking off all communication and attempts at escape. You're completely cut off. Only the Harrubian government knows you're here. Nobody's coming to get you, and even if they tried, trust me, they wouldn't even know where to look. You want food? You want medicine, you want water? It's all here but you'll have to fight for it.'
"The arena started 10 days ago and there are are 20 left. One way or another, in 20 days, only one of you Legionnaires or political dissidents is walking out alive -- admittedly, the lucky winner will be walking out into being locked in some hole-in-the-ground Harrubian political prison for the rest of your natural life, but you'll still be far less defunct than everyone else."
"Kill or be killed, it'll be great. Now, I know what you're thinking: 'you can't make me kill my friends or innocent Harrubians.' That's true, I can't make you do anything, and there wouldn't be much fun if I could. But life's a game, kids -- you're either playing or you're losing it. This game will crack you open and let the real you out. The you that you keep crammed down where nobody else can see."
His voice goes extra sinister.
"Deep down maybe a few of you are real, genuine, big damn heroes, I'll grant you that. But the rest? Cowards. Liars. Cheats. Thieves. And at least one natural born bone-and-gristle killer or two. So, remember, kids: play unfair, get messy, and make mistakes -- preferably some fatal ones, they're great for the ratings."
Arcade turns away from whatever is filming him for the hologram, and then turns back.
"Oh, and before I forget... Welcome to Murderworld."
He holds his hands up and makes finger guns at the camera. The holograms of Arcade explode into a million pieces and fade away, leaving all the Legionnaires to face the dangerous forces around them.
[ooc: Player can use this post to establish their characters' initial reactions to arriving in the arena, but otherwise, threading for the plot will take place in posts players make for themselves.]
What| Arena Start
Where| All throughout the Arena
When| N/a
Warnings/Notes| Just the usual psycho supervillain monologue stuff
They all wake up scattered throughout Murderworld, some of them alone, some of them with partners, some of them clustered together. Each will find themselves in strange new surrounds. None of them will have any recollection of how they got there. One minute they were on their spy mission, then there was the feeling of being stunned from behind.
They awaken at the exact same time as their captor gives their nervous systems a jolt via the nanites in the air. For a moment, they just hear a man's jeering
"Wakey wakey."
When they're all awake, the voice continues on.
"You know, I'm jealous of you Legionnaires. After this, you're going to go down in infamy. Footage of your every move is being streamed live to Harrub's political and financial elite, and after that daring attempt at spying and what I'm sure will be your equally daring attempts at escape and rescue, this is going to be an arena they never forget."
Near each of them, a huge, colorful hologram sparks to life, revealing the image of a man.
"Who's the badass bogeyman with his own planetoid?"
"Now I know what you're wondering. The four W's. Who am I? Oh, I'm just someone that fell through that space rift on Phelolu and got recruited by parties with certain...interests. Since then, I've been working for the Harrubian government. The name's Arcade."
"What is this? This happens to be my best work yet. The Harrubians in charge used to get rid of political dissidents and their families the old-fashioned way -- with a bullet to the back of the melon and a shallow, unmarked grave -- but I've spiced things up. Now they fight for their lives in my arenas -- a little idea I got from a series of kids' books I read in the pen. Once a month, a sizable number of Harrubian deplorables enter, and by the end of the month, only one leaves."
"'Why me?' you're probably asking, but you already know the answer to that one. You nosed in just a little too much around Harrub and now the Harrubian government wants you gone. Lucky for them and unlucky for you, a few members of the UP council wanted you gone just as much and tipped them off about your spying. Politicians, amirite? Can't live with 'em -- and in your case, Legionnaires, that's especially true. The UP biting the hand that protects them, when this isn't even your home universe -- that has got to hurt."
"Where are you? This is my master work. See, I really love watching people die -- I'm a little sick in the head, what're you gonna do? For years, I used to build these elaborate superhero death traps, but my dead-superhero-to-deathtrap ratio was embarrassingly low. So when I got pulled into this universe, I decided to shake things up a bit. This planetoid is filled with my mercenary Tributes that...help things along, as well as traps, monsters, dangerous terrain, and paranoid dissidents so desperate to save their own miserable lives they'll knock your brains out with a rock over a hunk of cheese."
"An impenetrable shield is around the entire arena, blocking off all communication and attempts at escape. You're completely cut off. Only the Harrubian government knows you're here. Nobody's coming to get you, and even if they tried, trust me, they wouldn't even know where to look. You want food? You want medicine, you want water? It's all here but you'll have to fight for it.'
"The arena started 10 days ago and there are are 20 left. One way or another, in 20 days, only one of you Legionnaires or political dissidents is walking out alive -- admittedly, the lucky winner will be walking out into being locked in some hole-in-the-ground Harrubian political prison for the rest of your natural life, but you'll still be far less defunct than everyone else."
"Kill or be killed, it'll be great. Now, I know what you're thinking: 'you can't make me kill my friends or innocent Harrubians.' That's true, I can't make you do anything, and there wouldn't be much fun if I could. But life's a game, kids -- you're either playing or you're losing it. This game will crack you open and let the real you out. The you that you keep crammed down where nobody else can see."
His voice goes extra sinister.
"Deep down maybe a few of you are real, genuine, big damn heroes, I'll grant you that. But the rest? Cowards. Liars. Cheats. Thieves. And at least one natural born bone-and-gristle killer or two. So, remember, kids: play unfair, get messy, and make mistakes -- preferably some fatal ones, they're great for the ratings."
Arcade turns away from whatever is filming him for the hologram, and then turns back.
"Oh, and before I forget... Welcome to Murderworld."
He holds his hands up and makes finger guns at the camera. The holograms of Arcade explode into a million pieces and fade away, leaving all the Legionnaires to face the dangerous forces around them.
[ooc: Player can use this post to establish their characters' initial reactions to arriving in the arena, but otherwise, threading for the plot will take place in posts players make for themselves.]
Temperate Zone - OTA
Whatever the case, Gohan wasn't going to play this game. Not this time.
"Murderworld, huh?" Gohan murmured to himself, glancing down at the supplies he was left with. Making a mental assessment of the area, and already thinking of how he can set up a habitable camp until he could think of a better plan. "Enjoy it while you can, because there won't be another one."
no subject
So. Many. Rabbits.
Fortunately she had been randomly teleported teleported away from all of that and into... a forest? Okay, sure. Why not.
Thanks, Murderworld!
Anyways, she kept on walking through the oversized trees and mushrooms and found her way to a sort of camp. "Oh, wow, hey there. Glad to see it's you. I mean, not that you actually ended up here, too. But you know what I mean."
Please know what she meant.
no subject
So, you know. Imagine how Gwen must feel knowing that that was Gohan.
"I-I get what you mean..." Gohan said with a sheepish chuckle, sitting by the campfire and eating some of the berries. "Um, come sit down! If you haven't eaten yet, I have a bunch of fruits and berries! So uh... yeah, feel free!"
no subject
"Ugh. Just so much 'ugh' right now."
She'd hit up those fruits and berries in a bit. Just give her a bit more time to hate everything.