legionmissions | Welcome to Murderworld

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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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's expecting to be jumped sooner or later--Reyes always one-upped him in this department, and he hasn't forgotten the quips about being predictable. There's always a small part of him that knows he won't be able to outdo Gabriel at his own game, but it doesn't stop him from trying anyway.

All he can do is keep his ears out for the inevitable and hope that his visor picks Reaper up fast enough once he's re-materalized.

And the blip does come back, though he can't be sure whether or not he's been spotted in the interim. The more steps he takes, however, the more he becomes certain that he's walking right into an ambush. He's not going to give Reaper the satisfaction.

I know you're there.

Both arms stay down at his sides, staring down at the shock of white hair below him, fuzzing through the dimness like a target. The visor glows and he focuses on that, reaching for his shot gun as he descends upon him from behind.

With the help of some well-timed ghosting, the space shrinks rapidly between them as he lands but an arm's length away, gun raised not to shoot but to try and pistol-whip the back of 76's head. Well, in this case it'd be more like shotgun-whipping him. Sounds stupid. He'll have to think of a better term for that.

"It's almost like you want to be spotted."

Think fast, Jack.

He does think fast--and he moves fast, too, ducking and rolling out of the way of Reaper's blow. 76 is quick to put distance between the two of them, trying to countercircle, a perhaps futile attempt to anticipate what Reaper is going to do next.

Mortal enemies or not, 76 knows that their current problem is much bigger than the two of them. He doesn't want to waste time when everything here is out for their blood.

"I don't want to fight you."

It's a lie. Of course 76 wants to fight him, but he can also recognize that this might not be the time or place for their personal issues.

Now that's new. He'd prepared himself to go through another fight, thinking 76 would want the same... but well, it makes sense. He's well aware of the situation and what things are out there, hunting for anyone and anything that isn't their own.

"Such a shit liar."

But he's on the defensive, should this just be a ruse. The tarp o' stuff lies just beyond Jack, and he figures he should at least get to it. Shadow-stepping behind 76, he reappears by his belongings, grabbing it hastily and slinging it noisily over his shoulder.

"So, just stalking me for fun?" It's easy to imagine him rolling his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He's half-turned, facing a room with a door that's slightly ajar.

He doesn't blame Reaper for being wary--hell, 76 would probably say the same thing, if their positions were switched, but he does take note of the fact that Reyes isn't immediately springing for his throat.

The shadow step catches him off-guard, however, and he wheels around leveling his gun. It takes a substantial amount of self control not to fire as he reminds himself that inciting violence will render this entire encounter useless. He doesn't want to maintain any illusions that they can work together in the face of a bigger problem, but fighting each other certainly isn't going to help.

"You're not exactly my idea of fun, Reyes."

Isn't that a convenient non-answer.

"Then necessity."

Despite the non-answer, he figures it'll come out eventually. He knows Jack doesn't beat around the bush for too long anyway, and he can sort of suss things out with what he's given. He strides slowly over to the door, curling his claws carefully around the edge of the steel.

He thinks he can hear something inside, but he keeps his attention on 76 for the most part. There's a lot of clanging and echoing about the maze-like building, but there's a distinct but soft whirring sound through it all, a constant hum of noise that caught his attention.

"Or just trying to keep an eye on me." He snorts, even if that isn't 76's intention.

"You caught me."

76's voice is dry, sardonic, and unamused, and he keeps his distance just in case. He knows how easy it is for Reaper to get the upper hand just based on the fact that he can dissolve and re-form at will. Hopefully his recent containment has put him on the defensive.

He hefts his gun, though he's sure Reyes hasn't forgotten it's there.

"Someone's got to."

"How noble."

The dry sardonic reply is shot back at him, even as it drawls slowly off his tongue. He can feel the gun on him even if he weren't looking, and finds comfort in knowing that despite not doing anything threatening, 76 is still on edge. That's good. The last thing he wants is 76 to feel comfortable in any way.

But 76 can at least take solace in the fact that Reaper did learn from his containment. He's not stupid. Which is also why he's carefully but forcibly pushing the door open, only for it to suddenly stop with a loud CLANG! Like there's a large bucket right in the path of the door.

He vaguely wonders if someone is going to shadow him all day to just be a pain in his ass, or do something useful. Like going into this room. But he's not going to ask for 76's help for anything, so he moves to reach for his gun slowly before stepping through the crack of the door.

Someone is definitely going to shadow him all day just to be a pain in the ass. Maybe he considers it progress that Reaper isn't trying to murder him yet--or maybe he's just more concerned with the current situation. He'll take either.

So he's not comfortable, no, but he follows along anyway, still half-considering opening fire and seeing how quickly Reaper can regenerate when he's being pumped full of pulse munitions. And he's not stupid, either. Following Reaper into an enclosed space like this is most certainly a death sentence. He takes point outside the door as Reaper forces it open.

"Something in there?"

A death trap for him, perhaps?

Reaper can take a hint when the entire governing body (or whatever is the equivalent of it) gives him a very clear reminder of what his place is on this pseudo-planet. He knows what boundaries he can push and when it's right to exploit loopholes, and at the time, there just weren't any. He was one entity, without the infamy, without the resources, and without any backup, against an entire moon-sized planet filled with extraordinary aliens and people. It's just stupid. A premature death wish.

So no, he won't be murdering him and getting himself into trouble, even if this murderworld thing gives him a lot of leeway for it. He'll surely incur the wrath of Ana and Reinhardt, whatever happens, and on Legionworld, hunting him down wouldn't take long.

"Maybe."

At least he answers, though he thought about not doing so. On the floor behind the door is a robot of sorts. An omnic, Reaper thinks, but it looks archaic and comical, like something from an old timey cartoon. He gives it a nudge with his boot, but it remains lifeless. Looking further into the room, he notices it's not alone. There's a pile of them, maybe about six or seven of them, in shambles.

He turns back towards the door, finding the room utterly useless.

"Nothing important– hngh?"

Something tugs at his ~~cape~~coat, the strength of it only strong enough to give him pause.

76 is more than content to take point and stay outside the door, especially because the alternative is probably Reaper trying to kill him in a room too small to unload helix rockets into his mask-face. It's not ideal, especially because he doesn't know what's going on inside the room, but he'll take this over walking straight into a trap.

He tries not to think about this as anything more than a momentary truce, given the circumstances, but something inside his chests twists at the familiarity of watching Reyes' back, as it were. 76 swallows it down--reminds himself of how much has come between them, and that Reaper is not at all the man who used to be his friend.

Luckily, there isn't much time to dwell on it before Reaper is making weird noises, or whatever.

"Problem, Reyes?"

The roll of his eyes is almost audible in his voice, like he thinks this is a piss-poor attempt to lure him into the room.

Edited 2016-10-23 02:44 (UTC)

The damn tin can was still active. That's the first thing that crosses his mind when his coat snags on something. He ignores the unhelpful sarcasm floating from outside and decides to save a bullet, and use his heel. He's strong enough to at least incapacitate a shoddy looking omnic, barely clinging to life or whatever. Power source.

Raising his boot, he crushes his heel against its head. Even as he brings the boot down to create a nice dent in its forehead, those spindly metallic arms cling motionlessly to his coat, almost tearing through the tough fabric. Impressive. At least, for a robot of shitty construction.

He's about to raise his foot again when he looks up, a sudden jolt of movement in the distance catching his eye. Aw, shit. He doesn't have nearly enough bullets for this. He backs up against the wall next to the door, shoving his way through the doorway, which means he also shoves past 76. Without a word to him, he grabs his tarp and starts moving away. The reason for his silence is that 76 will most definitely hear the unholy cacophony of tinny clangs and bangs against the floor as the robots start to scramble towards the door. Reaper hasn't looked over his shoulder yet, so they didn't simply stop in their tracks, but if 76 pauses to look at them, they'll most definitely freeze where they stand.

76 stays pressed against the door frame, gun at the ready. Even if this isn't some kind of trap, something strange is going on in here.

He knows Reyes more than well enough (unfortunately) to understand when something is very, very wrong. His making a beeline out of the room doesn't bode well, and as soon as he barrels past, 76 is taking his place in the door, leveling his gun at...a whole lot of nothing.

A bunch of motionless robots, more like, and now he definitely thinks this is some kind of stupid trap. He turns around to face Reaper's retreating form.

"Really?"

That incredulous tone has him reeling, snapping his head back to glower in Jack's direction with some amount of calm. It's probably just the mask. But he's still pissed off; not necessarily at 76's disbelief, but just overall annoyed by the fact that Jack is Here. He is here and not being dead or punched by him, and has to force himself to ignore him or work alongside him again.

"They're still active. You heard the noise, so don't give me that shit."

He jabs a clawed finger in his direction. Lowering it, he looks over at the door still ajar, the pile of robots stuck frozen in their steps. Maybe 76 assumed the noises was Reaper's doing.

The next move is always the hardest one to make. Where to from here? Do all these doors have omnics behind them? Which one leads towards the exit? Do any of them? He can't just not, so he stares down a dark hall, one of many dark halls, lined with steel and mesh walls and more doors. So many doors. He bites back a heavy sigh.

"Stick around if you wanna deal with them. Too low on ammo."

And marches silently down a hall.

76 absolutely assumed the noises were Reaper's doing, and though his expression is inscrutable with the mask on, it's clear that he's not exactly buying it, given the fact that he's pretty sure Reaper is just waiting for the right moment to kill him.

Weird robots or not, 76 isn't about to let that happen. Maybe there is something to attack in that room, but Reaper is turning on his heel and marching away, and 76 isn't about to let that happen, either.

After a moment of hesitation, he takes off after him, whether he likes it or not.

That paranoia is easy to feed off of, and were he in 76's position, he'd be the same. Reaper is just waiting for a good time and place to kill him, incredibly tempted to prove him right.

Once their backs are turned, there's a bit of silence from the room. It's not as if they could hear over the deafening ambiance in this area anyway, so Reaper continues down the dark hall, tarp shifting noisily in case 76 needed some reason to believe that he wasn't pulling a fast one on him.

He stops at another door, opening it slowly to find there's nothing obstructing its path, letting it yawn open widely before turning to stare back at 76. His mask stands out stark white against the grimy rusted interior, floating like an owl resting on a black silhouette of a tree.

"What're you waiting for, Jack?"

Edited 2016-10-27 05:21 (UTC)

"Same thing you are, I think."

It's uncomfortably familiar, tailing Reaper, and he falls into step far too quickly, like the two of them haven't missed a beat. The only difference is that he's not sure when Reaper will turn on him. Following him into the room would be stupid.

"Are you going to try and kill me, Reyes?"

Reaper cants his head just a touch to the right, hyper-aware of the shotgun hanging off on his hip rather than in his hands. He does a mental checklist of his ammo again, including the ones strapped to his belts. Eight plus... whatever amount was left in his gun, he's pretty sure there's still eight.

The question gets a snort from him.

"Love to, Jack. Can you dodge 16 shots?"

He figures he can dodge at least most of them, so there's no point in killing him right now anyway. Just a waste of bullets, time, and energy. Looking into the room again, he notes there's another door on the other end of this one. Inside it, there's ancient screens, piping, and other machinery that might be useful.

Then after a beat, he grunts and looks back at the room.

"Door on the other side. Checking it out."

It's not too far off, but the distant clanging of metal feet sound off in the distance.

76 doesn’t answer, only makes a sort of half-laugh, half-scoff noise in the back of his throat, indicating that he would rather not try to dodge 16 shots. It does beg to question why Reaper would need all sixteen, but he decides not to pursue that line of questioning, not when there’s something actually interesting in this room.

He hopes he’s not making a mistake when he follows Reaper inside.

“I don’t like that sound.”

The ominous distant clanging metal sound. He’s willing to bet that Reaper doesn’t like it either.

The comment has him trying to hone in on the sound a little more, recognizing them as footsteps. Ones that weren't all too different from the ones he'd heard earlier after leaving the first room.

Fortunately for 76, Reaper has more on his mind now than trying to kill Jack, which honestly surprises him. That little nagging voice in the back of his head urges him to do it, just wheel around on his heels and let a bullet go straight through his forehead.

"Bet those tin cans are a lot smarter than they look," he says sarcastically, turning to the screen that has some lines of code. There's also a blinking text that reads 'stand-by'. Stand-by for what?

As the clanging footsteps grow louder, he leaves the screen to test the doorknob. Jiggling it, he finds it locked. Maybe there's a mechanism somewhere to unlock the doors.

It's possible 76 is picking up on the fact that murder is slowly being put off the table, or at the very least, the noise is more important. He follows cautiously, pulse rifle raised and ready, finger barely hovering over the trigger, ready to fire. He peers past Reaper to see what's on the screen, and his eyebrows furrow when he sees.

When it becomes clear the other door is locked, his first thought is the console.

"Anything on the computer that might open the door?"

He doesn't answer him, but he pointedly stares downward, and from 76's end, he could probably spot it too at this distance. The console has a keypad attached to it. A passcode. Damn, well, he doesn't know shit about any passcodes. He punches in a random sequence, only stopping when the asterisks that blip across the screen come to an end at 7 numbers. Obviously wrong.

"Why don't you make yourself useful and give me an estimate of how long we've got before we get rushed."

It's almost conversational, as he continues to poke away at the keypad. He takes cues from serial numbers on some of the items in the room, starting with the most obvious things in the room.

Damn is right. Unless Reaper’s been hanging out with—who knows—prodigious hackers, or something, 76 doesn’t expect either of them to be much good here. Their talents mostly lie in pointing guns at things and shooting, not hacking into alien computer consoles. They don’t exactly have the time to brute force this thing, either.

76 takes a few quick steps back to the first door, peering back out into the hallway, visor active and scanning for any movement or heat. Having left the strange room of robots behind, he mostly comes up empty.

“What are you expecting to get rushed by? Just work on it. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Maybe he has, maybe he hasn't! You'll never know!!! Either way, he is this close to smashing the keypad with his fist.

"Something's with those robots." Doesn't feel right. He didn't stick around long enough to suss things out, which might've been a bit of a rookie mistake but who knows what would've happened if he'd just stuck it out?

"Give me a sequence." He growls out an order, natural as day, almost irritatingly so. The feeling is deftly ignored as he punches in yet another wrong code. He wonders if there'll be an error message or consequences for too many mistakes.

The roll of his eyes is practically audible. 76 is keeping his gaze trained where they came from, and his visor readout is holding steady. Nothing of note, not even the robots that Reaper seems so concerned about.

He doesn’t have to look to know that Reaper isn’t having very much luck, and supplying his own sequence of numbers is probably not going to yield different results. They’re probably thinking about this the wrong way.

“Is there a backdoor? Something you can circumvent?”

Maybe they should just punch the console?

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