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[QUEST] 3?GP - Maelstrom Talk Radio
#1
Show ContentOOC Note:

Sounds play: a chainsaw revving, an alarm klaxon blaring twice, a spooky synth warbles. The lights turn on in a small geometric neon mix of a radio station and a control center. A green signal turns on overhead, to say that the broadcast is live. Various screens twinkle, lit with diagnostic information. A suited dark blue and carapaced bipedal figure sits at a desk, fidgeting with its claws while its sharp tail bobs up and down. It begins its broadcast.

???: "Ahem. Hello there, you're listening to three pi googolplex, the most accessible call-in station in the Maelstrom."
???: "I'm your host, Bloodfang, the Archdevil of Public Talk Radio."

Bloodfang: "So anyway, before I get into today's activities, Management asked me to host a small announcement. If anything doesn't make sense to you, don't worry about it. Ahem."

A few switches click as the archdevil works. The green live signal turns to a blinking magenta as the lights in the studio die and the screens become empty. The room is pitch dark, aside from the status light and the dim glow of the host's eyes. It stiffens its posture and ceases to move, staring at the microphone intently.

"Greetings to all observers, across the maelstrom or beyond the veil. Amongst and beyond a shattered space-time, where the laws of being are intertwined with stories and the abstract, you are being granted an ear and voice. Feel free to comment along however you wish, we will listen to whatever you have to say. You can try anything. Freedom is important. Exercise your literal or metaphorical lungs and vocal pipes. Ask questions, make suggestions, talk about mimes, anything goes. We hope you have an excellent time. Oh and, if possible, do try to answer the host's requests. (They're optional of course)"

The station returns to as it was, with a green live signal and a lit room with equipment abuzz.

Bloodfang: "Ick. Always ruins my throat to do that. Luckily I shouldn't have to do that again for a while."
Bloodfang: "Anyhow folks, uh, today's topics uh. There's two main purposes. First off, uh. Management said there's probably a decent chunk of new viewers so,
Bloodfang: "we're gonna host a lil, qna. I'll ask a couple questions. And then I'll listen to any calls back. Hopefully get some answers. And then I'll reply to them and any questions."
Bloodfang: "The questions are 'How are you doing?' and 'What's your favorite wildlife?'. A bit basic, but I think it's best to keep things a bit tame to start."

Bloodfang: "And in addition to the questions, there'll be a prompt for starting this broadcast's storytime."
Bloodfang: "The gist of this, is that I have a group of stories, and I'll be narrowing down which one to tell based on some criteria."
Bloodfang: "The genre, as well as anything the audience wants to see. Uh, the common factor between all of them, is that these are stories about giant cannons that shoot people to move em."
Bloodfang: "Kinda wild. As a note, we can always uh, go back and tell multiple stories from the same set after we get done. Also, don't worry if you don't see everything show up."
Bloodfang: "Interactive stories are a bit tricky and sometimes you might accidentally skedaddle around something. Things that get missed have a tendency to show up later though."
Bloodfang: "Management's really good at helping things along. Speaking of which, they should append the things I asked, tied up in a nice bow for you."
Bloodfang: "Should be able to receive a call-in in Maelstrom from anything from a letter thrown with good intent, to a phone call or messenger pigeon.
Bloodfang: "If you're beyond the veil, hell if I know."

The host taps its foot, watching a screen for call-ins to be left.

===COURTESY-OF-MANAGEMENT:-REQUESTED-REPLIES===

Host's Questions:
"How are you doing?":
"What's your favorite wildlife?":

Bonus Question (Courtesy of Management):
"What's your favorite scent?"

Story Specification [Stories Featuring Giant Cannons That Shoot People At Things]:
"What genre do you want to see?":
"What else do you want to see?":
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#2
I'm doing...well enough, I think? Sorry if that's not interesting for you.

Favorite wildlife? Whoof, that's a hard one. Maybe squirrels? Love watching them bound around, lil guys. Or field mice! Or maybe bats! Oooh, or possums...

What's my favorite scent? Hmm...how about freshly baked cookies? Or candles. That might be a cop out answer, there's a lot of scents for candles. But whatever.

Genre: Cosmic horror
What else: Sprinkle in some people born resembling constellations. And...barn cats. Regular ones.
[Image: lil_lesbian.png]
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#3
Show ContentOOC Note::

The host listens to the call-in, taps its claw on the counter for a few moments, before thinking of what to say next.

Bloodfang: Good to hear you're doing well! I uh, wasn't actually expecting a call-in that is intelligible.
Bloodfang: Usually it's just incomprehensible. So, uh, great to hear things are going well. Something something.
Bloodfang: Some say 'to live in interesting times' is a curse.
Bloodfang: Well, I don't know, I think other times are pretty cursed in their own ways. Thanks for calling in any case.

Bloodfang: Anyway, um. Those are nice animals. They're also are pretty grounded.
Bloodfang: I mean, bats are flying, and some are in trees but. You know what I mean.
Bloodfang: They're not venomous whales that feast on memories of forgetfulness.
Bloodfang: Cookies and candles. Those are good scents.

Bloodfang: Cosmic horror.
The archdevil turns to face what would be a hypothetical camera point of view. Management plays a laugh track, as a couple of switches flick themselves.
Bloodfang: Yeah. That's, uh. Yeah that's the usual story-time genre.

Bloodfang: Constellation people are a fun idea. Also, why barn cats?
Bloodfang: It's so weirdly specific. I don't think I've had a story-time with a barn in it before...
Bloodfang: Anyhow uh, line's still open for calls-in, but I've got to actually start filing things now. Story'll start soon regardless.
It turns back to face a monitor and begins clacking away at a keyboard, occasionally flicking a switch with its tail.
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#4
Bloodfang stands up, scooting its chair back some, before walking over to a cabinet and opening it. Fog pours out of the cabinet, as it begins searching through various discs. It finds what it's looking for and grasps it carefully. It slots the disc carefully into a slot on a rack of computing equipment, before closing the disc cabinet with its tail. It then returns to its seat.

Bloodfang: Alright, I think this track will take us into the story alright.

Some music begins to play.

Bloodfang: Anyhow, as the storytelling part is starting, there'll be a slight change in audio.

---

Don't worry about it. And, if you have any questions about the setting, want a character profile or something like that to be written up, or really just anything to say or ask for at all, the line's always open. Anyhow, allow for me to set the scene.

A metallic chimera trudges along its ship. Its of an odd construction, built on a base of three legs, out of which a torso, with a pair of arms and something resembling a head. In reality, the 'head' is in fact a cannon of sorts, which can emit and manipulate stream of plasma. Its legs and arms end in claws and its original purpose can be easily inferred. It was made to crack skulls.

It is currently scurrying about, tuning up a shuttle which it uses with the ship's orbital insertion cannon. This is a mechanism which allows it to deliver itself to a destination with about as much force as it intends. It's also quite reliable, even in the hectic storm at the center of the maelstrom. The artificial construction of itself and its equipment is quite resilient to many of the hazards that it faces in its excursions.

Its maker is long dead, it is obliged to no wars, and there is no particular hunt it is embarking on. It is a self-appointed ranger, trying to save the ships and denizens of the center of the Maelstrom wherever it can. As it finishes patching up the ship, the vessel shudders some, as a large portion of space ruptures nearby in the storm. It sees a the communications beacon pick up a few signals, as it scuttles to the cockpit. It seems there is work to do. It needs to pick who to respond to first, so it looks over the information provided carefully.

Signal A: There is a small crew of three stranded on an rogue icy world after their ship crashed. Based on the beacon's estimate, it should be a speedy trip across the breach. There is no imminent danger, but they do not have a way off the world. There is little additional information

Signal B: A lone combat unit is currently hunting for a massive threat entity that resembles a fiery serpent. The threat entity is the size of a medium moon. It is publicizing that it is looking for help in slaying the beast and that the target has been the cause of quite a bit of harm around the maelstrom. Its current location is a moderate distance away and would take a couple days to reach.

Signal C: There is a space station currently dealing with an infestation problem of minor threat entities. They resemble shadowy weasels and have done minor damage to non-critical infrastructure. The station is worried that if the infestation grows, a moderate threat entity could be produced or important infrastructure could be damaged. Station residents have attempted hunting the weasels, but they have had issues in actually harming the entities. This location is a moderate distance away and would take a couple days to reach.

Signal D: There is a distress beacon without any details a decent distance away. It would take a couple weeks to reach.

Signal E: This is a radio station. You could put it on if you wanted to, but there's nothing to respond to here.

The entity looks over its choices carefully. (Listeners, this is where I suggest you call-in and give the story a push. What shall this ranger do or respond to first?)
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#5
Uh hello? this seems interesting, better than the 50 country music radio stations I'm stuck with in my area. Should I do the questionnaire or- never mind.

I propose going after signal D. Mysterious distress signals are always fun, plus from a tactical standpoint it could be something time sensitive, especially if they didn't have the time, or capability, to attach details to the signal. or it could be pirates. let's find out.
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#6
I'm all for signal D, but let's check signal A first, it'd be a quick pitstop. Getting trapped in an icy wasteland without proper gear is a death sentence. There's still time to get them out of it.
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#7
Show ContentOOC Note:
---
I'm going to put on another bit of music to accompany the narration.

Anyhow. The chimera has a brilliant plan. It looks over the map and the locations of the signals...it can go to A...deliver them to C via hyper-velocity delivery...and perhaps let the station borrow some light armaments? Small shadow abnormalities are not the trickiest, generally speaking. If that doesn't work out it can always call them again after it checks into D.

The ranger sends three short responses. First, to the immediate vessel.
This is rescue vessel Eyepiercer. Signal acknowledged. Please hold for EVAC. I will be with you shortly. Except a vessel capable of hyper-velocity delivery. I plan to take you and your ship with you and send you to a nearby station of relative safety, provided your vessel is small enough to be launched and intact enough or reparable for acceptable safety margins. Please prepare a status report for my arrival. If any hazards appear in the hours before I arrive, I am available to provide tactical advice.

Then, to the station.
This is rescue vessel Eyepiercer. Signal acknowledged. Requesting permission for a planned hyper-velocity shuttle launch. I am responding to a stranded ship's call and will attempt to send light armaments and tactical advice for typical small shadow abnormalities. The delivery should occur within a few hours, provided approval and ideal timescale. I have another distress beacon to respond to of potential emergency afterwards, so it may be some weeks before I can return to assist in person. Feel free to keep in touch over comms if needed.

Finally, to the distant distress beacon.
This is rescue vessel Eyepiercer. Signal acknowledged. If possible, please respond with relevant details. I may take a couple weeks to reach you. Hold fast. If you need any advice in the coming days, I will be available.

And, the ranger gets a couple of quick responses. The crew of signal A, apparently of the vessel 'Greaseskipper', report their vehicle, other than a failed engine and skip, is relatively intact. Additionally, it is a self-sustained shuttle type vessel, so it should be fine for hyper-velocity launch. The chimera will probably still inspect it in person, but this is a fairly good sign. The station at signal C responds, providing clearance for hyper-velocity launch and providing well-wishes. As expected, the generic distress beacon is silent.

The Eyepiercer reaches the system of the Greaseskipper with little issue. As it approaches the world of the distress signal, it becomes apparent how the ship ran into engine problems. It is an icy world alit with auroras and electromagnetic activity. While beautiful, and certainly a draw to travelers, vessels without proper shielding can run into problems. The Eyepiercer and its shuttle, Twilight Execution, are both capable of terrestrial, spatial, and other maneuvers in a variety of extreme environments. Over-engineered? Perhaps. Useful? Doubtlessly.

Landfall is made with the main ship, as towing the Greaseskipper into space will be easier that way. The crew trudge out, in EVA suits. They smell of tourists. The way their suit is closely tailored and shaped more for aesthetics than reason, the forgoing of optimal vision shielding for the benefit of a clear visor, and their general demeanor of half-confused and half-awestruck. The ranger exits its vehicle, which to be fair, is rather unique. Not to mention it is a bit of a unique creature too, but it doesn't give a shit.

It begins conversation immediately. "I have read your reports. Regardless, I will inspect your vessel for additional damages. I will ensure you are ready for a safe launch to orbit, then a launch to a nearby station. Note any concerns."

The tourists shuffle around. The one with a green and gold EVA suit that seems to be some sort of greyish white goat person speaks up. "Uh. There's, nothing wrong with that. I'm Alum. ...Do you know how to greet people?" The ranger tenses up and briefly considers how mean it is allowed to be to a random stranger in response.

One of the other tourists, a wolfperson in a violet EVA suit, elbows Alum before speaking up. "What they mean to say, is thank you for picking us up. You're great. And hi. I'm Flax."
The chimera makes a simple response. "Acknowledged," ceasing to consider things like leaving them behind on the ice planet.

The third tourist, some sort of mantis person, opens up the Greaseskipper's door. The chimera investigates the core systems first. Computer, flight control, and data are all intact. The reactor had minor damage that could be fixed with a spare part on hand. The sublight engines could be returned to partial function and the emergency shutdown features of the skip could be re-enabled with some clever cannibalization of the main skip drive, in case the station's catch mechanism has a fault. Other than that, the crew quarters are of little interest.

Alum seems to have a variety of small figurines of people in odd garb you do not recognize, alongside some electronic devices. It seems they are a gamer. Flax has a variety of ancient technology. It is so incredibly outdated that it is surprising that they have that much. The third crew quarters was rather sparse and stoic, with some interesting geometric art pieces laying around.

The ranger politely informed the crew of optimal safety and seating arrangements for the upcoming flight, before asking for permission to include a package to the nearby station with the Greaseskipper. The crew approves, without much fanfare. It then parks the Twilight Execution nearby and picks up the Greaseskipper in the Eyepiercer's Hyper-Velocity launch system. It anchors the ship into the ground, before launching the Greaseskipper into orbit. It then attached a tow to its own shuttle and enters orbit, picking up the Greaseskipper once more, before flying out far enough for a safe shot at the station's Hyper-Velocity Receiver. The skipper is then launched as a faster than light bullet that tears through space and time. Don't worry about it, this is a safe enough practice when space is already like a gnarled sponge anyway. There's no real issues with slicing it up every now and again. With the crew of A arriving at C with some supplies, everything should be in order.

Anyhow, the chimera then returns its own shuttle to the main docking spots and takes in the tow line. So far everything is nominal. It brings the Eyepiercer up to superliminal speeds and begins flooring it across space to try to reach the next destination, signal D.

It receives communications from the station informing the ranger of the safe arrival of the rescuees and thanking it for the information and loaned arms. The crew of the Greaseskipper also send their thanks, once again. It files these away before doing a routine overview of the ship and its systems. Aside from a couple minor tune-ups it quickly gets done, everything is optimal.

...It is left with a question that many in transit are left with. What to do to pass the time between now and arrival at the distress beacon? (And...perhaps, you can give the answer to that ever elusive question, listeners.)
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#8
Well, seems only fitting for them to turn on their...space radio, given that's sorta what I'm doing. Or uh... gee... maybe the chimera can think back to whatever memories it holds fondly? Or it could knit?

...I'm pluck out of ideas, admittedly
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#9
Show ContentOOC Note:

It decides to tune into that radio station it saw. It seems familiar. If the chimera remembers right, there's usually an interesting storytime segment going on around this time.

Alright before I properly get into the next part, let me put on some more backing music I really think this is going to encapsulate the core of the moment.

And to the new listener just tuning in...this is really funny and a bit awkward, but. Tonight's story is about you. Welcome to the broadcast.

...Yeah. Shrugging and making a loud hiss, that is probably a sigh, is fair. This is kind of bullshit...

So uh, you can turn off the radio, if you want, by the way, if you want to be done with this. It's going to be an abnormal station prattling on about your story until a 'narrative loop' is tied shut, or something like that. It's rather formulaic, in that way.

...

...wait are you really leaving it on? Uh, you'll probably here a decent bit of silence at times due to temporal quirks...but you've encountered plenty of those before so...

I'll just. Carry on as usual then. The ranger considers other things to do.

Recalling fond memories...I suppose none of you would be surprised that it's fond of action. Of work. Of diving into hell, whether abnormality based or circumstantial, whether tyrant or calamity, to claw out what semblances of good it can. Even if it cannot understand everything, even if the very world is absurd at its core. It will keep moving. A chimera of momentum, purpose chosen in void, and other things. Admirable to many perceptions.

...And other than that, what remains? Trawling through archives? Looking over abnormality data. Considering ways to breach hulls optimally in case the structure of a ship or station is what gets in the way of a rescue operation? The countless ways that a place could be in peril. The chance of it being a lure, like an anglerfish in the depths? It reviews the situation in brief moments. Nothing particularly stands out. Such little data makes it a shot in the dark to try to predict what is next.

Repairs are done, so the only remaining options are to either conserve energy...which is superfluous given there are no reactor issues...so. Artifice. It doesn't actually know what to make...It could try to make devices or weapons of a variety of purposes. Something for helping temporary guests adjust? Something for action? To help breach into a ship? Something specialized? On a gamble into the dark. It considers creating a list and leaving it up to chance...but...

Ranger. I happen to be in the business of crowdsourcing. Maybe you'd like to listen into some ideas. Perhaps there's an interesting about something to make idea floating about. Let's take a listen, shall we? And if nothing comes to mind, the chaotic nature of a die in the air is always still within your grasp. It's not like you're short on time.
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#10
I think the only thing the ship *doesn't* have would be something entertaining. While they should definitely make sure to have enough weapons and tools, maybe something like a yoyo?
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#11
Show ContentOOC Note:

It already has plenty of tools, medical gear, and repair stuff at hand, indeed.

Entertaining...entertaining...this whole radio broadcast thing gives the chimera a great idea. It hastily grabs spare metal to weld together a mock puppet stage (effectively a box, with two pipes and a sheet on top of it, alongside curtains made from a spare fire blanket. I then makes some rough sculptures that are meant to be puppets. One is hackneyed from a broken pistol it took from its original owner and a lamp damaged beyond repair. The other is a mixture between a bend and charred microphone and a piece of pipe with a litany of holes. It decides to give things a trial run, to get acquainted with puppeteering.

The pistol puppet is dubbed 'Captain Wordstew' while the microphone puppet is 'Lord Baddeathkillsyoudead'. The show begins.

---
The curtains open on the production. The captain enters stage left.

Captain: "Ah, what a fine and glorious day. It certainly is day. I am a big fan of day. Day it is. It is day. Yes.

Suddenly, the stage shakes. Lord Baddeathkillsyoudead enters stage right.

Lord: "YOU ARE INCORRECT CAPTAIN WORDSTEW. It is in fact, before dawn. Ergo, it is mornight."

Captain: "Mornight isn't real. You made that up."

Lord: "All words are made up, Captain Wordstew. All of them. They exist to convey meaning. Mornight has a clear meaning. The part of quote en quote morning, which is still in the dead of night."

<The captain looks as flustered as a scrap piece of metal with minimal articulation can look>
Captain: "...uh. um. actually."

<vague laser sound effects>

Captain: "Eat laser, sucker."

<generic movie scream>

Lord: "Ow. That's ruuuuuude. I'll be calling...my lawyer!"

<dramatic music>

---
I honestly do not know how I feel about that play, ranger. It. Was certainly avant-garde.

Anyhow, there isn't much to report on for the rest of the trip to the distress beacon.

Even once the system of the beacon is reached, there is still no reply. In the distance, sensors pick up a station. It is lightless, perhaps without power? Once the Eyepiercer gets close enough, it runs a scan...

Critical abnormality density detected. Full spacetime subversion is likely.

The ranger prepares a less than polite method of entry, backing up the Eyepiercer and boarding its shuttle for launch procedures. It mutes the radio for the moment, to better focus with the precision needed to plan a ridiculously fast ballistic entry into a space that is almost certainly full of great risk.

---
And, that leaves us with an opportunity. Abnormal space is particularly malleable.

Are there perhaps any threats or themes you all would like to see show up? Complications? I'm sure Management would love to really make the proper Cosmic Horror section something for you. The audience.
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#12
Hmm. Memory distortion. Possession. Loss of a sense of self.
Oh, and music boxes. They're neat.
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#13
Dear listener, that's quite a fun pick. And honestly, in most situations that'd be quite a compelling and long form theme to use. I think you may have made an oversight, though. Unless of course, you intend to play with matches by the munitions stockpile. Messing with the memories and personality, of a weapon distanced from its origin. Of something meant to burn through the sort of space such as this. It's a way you get things falling apart. As such...we're going to handle this a bit weird.

We're going to swap the point of view at some parts of this broadcast, to a native, and to a lost soul. This broadcast's action is reaching it's end, and I feel that if it'll be going off with such a bang...it'd be boring to only give it from the perspective of the gun.

So, shall we be off? Yes. You don't really have a say in this, short of barging into the station and whisking the microphone away from me and...

...well, you aren't doing that so, we'll be off. And to hell with it, we'll give you second person narration. It's on the house. Except there aren't any houses...so it's nowhere.
---

Your shuttle crashes through the station wall and into the subspace. After the thundering explosion, the dimension recoils at its new wound. It shudders and shrieks with a sound like glass breaking mixed with a cough and a squeal. You'd be lying if you said it was the worst you've heard. You think about what's next.

You really are not a fan of rescue missions. Well, you do them of course, but...your job's a lot harder than some organizational rescuer, who's just meant to get out who they think qualify as 'people' or their 'client' or whatever.

The issue isn't just finding the people who sent out the call. If there's a creature or abnormality involved, there's a chance it's not hostile, there's a chance it's a person. Something you can communicate with and find ground with. Most of them don't 'choose' to exist here, and even the dimensional subspace and any semblance of a 'ruler' it may have might not even have a semblance of responsibility for the intertwining of it and the pocket of the 'real' world. They can be just as confused as those who sent out the emergency beacon. Unfortunately, sometimes you have to forcibly the ones who called you here or the abnormalities abound. Sometimes is a lot of the times, given you look like a scary death weapon that just shot into their home. To be fair, you are. Not all abnormal spaces are dangerous, but some are incredibly harmful to organic life. Some entities can interact in ways they think are harmless, which will bring long-lasting harm. Some places are more abstract or intangible and can influence things in ways that are harder to notice. You're not exactly perfectly compliant with 'normal' space yourself. Gives you a sorta sixth sense in a way.

And you've got the feeling this place is trying to dig up the past. To put on a play. Really, you have the firepower to break this place open. Honestly kind of self destructive of the space to do that...presuming it's sapient. Hell, if it is, you. Well you can't know until you see evidence. Just, need to find what you can, keep what you can safe. And avoid smashing through things. Toying with destruction is rarely good. Luckily, most of your past is various shades of sticking to your gun. Unfortunately, the earlier ones from back when you weren't independent...were more literal. And given what this place looks like...

Labyrinthine echoes...of what was likely the station's prior schematic. You might have to blast some paths for you and your shuttle. Luckily you still seem to be able to make some scans of the immediate surroundings. Seems mostly empty. You get to work shearing through walls to carve space for your vessel beyond the shimmering entry crater and through the nearby walls. No immediate signs of your quarry. No signs of injured abnormalities either. If this place ends up collapsing, you need to have a tabs on them so you can help them out. Hopefully your sensors are working properly, as you don't have much else you can do short of divorcing from your vessel. And...given it's value to you, you'd rather not lose it. Might not even help in the first place.

You press on. A ranger alone, doing what it can do in a place where things have crashed together, leaving behind piles of shattered glass and slag in the wake of its search. It seems the place thinks you're on some sort of march, it's even giving you a little tune. Orderly and sharp, yet with the tune of a music box? Is it a metaphor? A theme. The march goes on. This is going to take a while.
---

Elsewhere, another consciousness lingers. It's form and shape fluid, but its natural poise is something stolen by the dimension, from the memories of a new entrant, a memory of something long lost to the fire of combat. Without the gift of much memory or the knowledge of much else, the entity is mostly left with a vague sense of general knowledge and that sense is screaming. Screaming that the loud and thunderous cascade of fire in the distance is something to avoid. That the space's quaking means this place isn't safe. There is a need to be somewhere else. Find. Something, else.

It is gifted with a slipperiness, an ability to slip as shadows do, and to go between unseen places. It is running itself as fast as it can, trying to find something OTHER. Something that. Isn't the thundering intrusion, but...maybe another way out? It tries to wander away from the action, yet it cannot get a scent, until...something, orange. Something, citrus? It doesn't think that's true. Something other than the other native presences that it has seen. Subdued, erratically filled with the nature of the space. It makes its way closer, sneaking up behind. It sees an opportunity. Perhaps? It could, sever the tie of that intangible string. It makes an attempt. It misses. The figure lurches, noticing the consciousness odd nature, resembling a memory of a distortion of a distortion. The puppeted citrus smell seems to gurgle something. Nothing words. It draws a knife. The shade lunges again, in a natural feeling way, the knife failing to make contact with something that isn't really there, as the string is pulled until it snaps, each individual strand breaking under the tension of something between the lines.

The figure collapses. Unfortunate. The shade carries it, for the time being, searching for some other thing, away from the distant sound of thundering...
and it eventually, after more sculking about, smells more. It carefully approaches, carrying the former puppet. The figures unfortunately notice it quickly, despite its form somewhat shrouding the cargo. They seem relieved in a sense, before reconsidering. They eye the sort of phantom oddly. It tries to say something. It's not sure they heard, but it asks if they know a way out. There is no response. It waves. They...wave back. It supposes that's something. They seem to try to say something. It's, understandable, vaguely. Something about going? Yes. That's right. It tries to nod, but...it's a touch too amorphous and monochrome for that to have decipherable meaning, at the moment. It figures, it will lead the way, listening for a way out.
---

A IT worker begrudgingly follows some odd thing. She thinks it might be a glitch? It brought back her old cards rival who seemed to have walked off in a storm, despite you all being lost in what seems to be a maze of endless library. She's glad they're back. Alongside her mentor, it's a pretty good team to try to figure out a solution...though. One's unconscious. A glitch in reality? Maybe. That's, what caused. This. So another one, two wrongs make a right? She's not really sure. Everything feels blurry.
---
A captain fixes its hat. The doctor'd fucked off, seeming in a trance. Awfully strong and resisting your best efforts to convince him to stay with you. Seemed to think this was a conflict zone. The loud impact and the thuds following it seem to back that but...the place he mentioned was one that's not around anymore. He pushed you away and wandered off. Your cyber chief seems to be lost in something else. Thinks this is a library? No. This is a corruption of, realspace? You wish you paid attention at that fucking seminar on abnormal spaces. This one seems like a messy sort. You're not sure you'll find your way out, but...this shade. Feels different. This place seems to be something messing with memory. You think maybe, something else has gotten mixed in. A memory of that, loud crash? Could be a worse abnormality, really. You, could go either way, but that one is carrying your friend so. You'll follow it for the time being. It seems docile, and isn't currently causing this place to shake and tremble...and.

...you bet on the right horse apparently. It seems there's a tear that's built up nearby. to...realspace. You dig out your emergency EVA gear, before motioning at the shade and the body. It...seems to get the idea, after you repeatedly gesture at what you've done and your doctor's bag. The chief seems to say something about PPE and working with, welding? Why did they weld in a library. Anyway, they put on EVA too. Good enough. You slip through the tear.

...You realize you don't really have a way out, but. You seem to be in the real space wreckage of a storage bay. Seems the door's blocked, and the wall's ripped open to space. You see a ship in the distance. You pop open a flare and hope something sees it. The rest of your crew is rather silent, new...shade included. You aren't really in the mood for talk either.

After a while, you hear awful noises...similar to the first loud squelch while you were in that, place. But worse. Longer. It culminates in a finale. The room in realspace shudders. and you see a shuttle return towards the ship, before making a turn for...ah.
The flare.

A terrifying presence steps off the shuttle, covered in ash and debris. It is to the point. It came in response to an automated distress signal. It detected signs of an abnormal subspace and made a breach. It has, unfortunately, caused the collapse of that space and is escorting what it could of the specimens from that space that did not find their own way out, a few of which are confirmed capable of speech and reason. It offers sufficient supplies for a further beacon and survival equipment, or a trip back.

You decide, on a limb, that if it has the power to collapse a place, and wrangle abnormalities, some of which are probably kinda peeved, it's probably decently safe. It takes note of the shade and the corner and asks if you've talked to it. You note that you've been able to, try. But aren't sure if you can speak. It approaches the shade. It pulls out an odd tool, and. You have no idea what it's doing now, but after a minute or so, it helps guide you to a spot on the shuttle. It's a bit...cozy. Not a lot of space.

Once the shuttle gets to the ship, it's a bit better. You're exhausted, and find a place to sleep.
---

That's where I'll leave it for the moment, listeners. I'm going to lead this into a final bits and epilogue. Wanted to go into a bit more detail about the heart of the beast, but...I think this is pretty alright too. I'll be back in a bit. Feel free to drop in comments, inquiries, or meandering in the meantime. Either way, we'll be continuing shortly.
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#14
We may, get back to this part of the Maelstrom sometime, whether it be the places or people. But for now, I will leave you with the final pieces. It has been cut shorter than originally planned due to the arrival of new footage. Anyhow,
---
The Ranger successfully ferries all they rescued to where they wish to be. The shade of a dead memory, oddly, decides to stick with the ranger. The others take refuge at the nearby station for the moment, which successfully has remained safe. Though, the original trio had actually managed a solution that was unexpected. They managed to befriend the infestation and help the station find a healthy coexistence. The ranger itself continues its wandering.

All is well, for the most part. I will now move onto the main part of today's broadcast

---
Specifically, next up is a story that...will require viewer discretion. Please heed the attached content warnings. As another note, this is a story that's a peek beyond the Maelstrom.
Unfortunately there is no interactive portion. It is simply what it is.

Show ContentContent Warnings::

The title of this story, is ADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW

Show ContentADMINISTRATIVE REVIEW - PEEKS BEYOND THE MAELSTROM:
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