Pants' Fabulous Going Away Contest

[trousers]

As many of you know, there were some issues between myself and the leadership a few months back. This lead to me walking away from the table for what I have determined to be the last time. As a sign of my commitment I have decided to leave a going away present.

What I plan to do is as follows:

I am opening up a contest on the forums. This contest will run for four weeks. At the conclusion of the contest the posts will be reviewed by me and up to two other people. A winner will be chosen and the prize will be awarded.

The Prize:
My Bible. The hardback copy of Prophet Without Honour that has guided my RP journey for the last decade.

How to Enter:
1) Write a short OOC story that follows the theme.
2) Be willing to provide a mailing address for the book.
3) Post the story to the forums before 31 March 2013. If you cannot post to the forums you can e-mail the story to my gmail account, sottomahoney.

The theme is as follows:

After concluding your business at the Outpost in the Broken Shores you have been tasked with delivering a package to leaders who are in the Avalon Region. Although you don’t believe the package is terribly important, your associates seem to feel otherwise and have offered you compelling compensation to undertake the task on their behalf.

To ensure the package is delivered promptly a private shuttle has been chartered for the flight north. You board the small, AI piloted craft alone and your journey promptly begins.

After twenty minutes of flight the AI pilot begins to speak through the cabin speakers.

“I am sorry for the interruption. It would appear that we are flying into a violent sandstorm and will experience quite a bit of turbulence. I apologize in advance for any discomfort this may cause.”

With a nod you dismiss the warning since as a resident of Rubi-Ka you’re very familiar with choppy flights, especially after your voyage from the Morningstar Space Station. However, just as suddenly as you dismiss the thought you’re slammed against your seat as the shuttle is jerked six inches downward.

As the shuttle begins to shake violently you push the curtain on the shuttle window up and are slightly surprised to see nothing but the brownish-yellow of the sandstorm whisking past. Your attention is momentarily directed back to the cabin as the interior lights flicker. With a slight rise of your chin you begin to ask the Pilot if everything is okay.

But everything is not okay.

Before a word can escape your mouth the shuttle suddenly stops moving. Inertia takes over; ripping your seat away from the cabin floor and sending you head first into the bulkhead in front of you.

Several hours later you awake.

You find that the shuttle has been ripped in half from colliding with the ground. Unfortunately this has given the Sandstorm, which is still raging, a perfect opportunity to fill the shuttle with sand and allow the desert to consume the remains. At this time you’re practically buried, but despite your condition are able to dig your way out.

Blasted with sand, you’re now desperately in need of shelter. Glancing around you’re not able to see anything through the violent storm and attempts to execute beneficial Nano Programs are futile as the fast moving sand particles are destroying the nanobots as they attempt to gather.

Desperation begins to set in as you’re having difficulty seeing, breathing and moving. In an attempt to gather your thoughts you drop to hands and knees, with a clang. With your right arm you punch the sand twice in rapid succession and two more clanging noises echo back. Frantically you push the sand underneath you aside to reveal a solid metal surface.

In a flash of brilliance you recall the package you’re carrying and the conversation you had about it. It is a small container of experimental toiler-bots which were designed to eat away at the newer, stronger armor your enemies have been employing lately. Using your body as a human shield you place the small glass vial of toiler-bots onto the metal surface and smash it.

In short order the toiler-bots chew a gaping hole into the metal surface and you drop down into a small, dark room. Unbeknownst to you, you have just entered the secret bunker of Dr. Roman Dragovich Zubov, the first Omega, and the puppet master of Omni-Tek.

Begin Scene.

[caratzillion]

If you want to read that book, online copy here "http://www.anarchy-online.com/anarchy/frontend/files/CONTENT/download/documents/prophet_without_honour.pdf"

I woulden't mind that nice hardback though... hmmmmmm..

[Dagget]

http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h2...741/AO_CDs.jpg

[hokutonoken]

i'll write the last line .

"The end."

[Agentcora]

I'm not good at stories, but you have my address already so i should get it by proxy

[Tanisthonus]

I didn't know where to post this, so I'm just going to throw it here. I also don't know much about Roman Zubov, I'm a bit of a deep-lore-newbie, just trying to scrounge up what I can from posts on these forums. (Means the book will be a great boon for me). So this facility, if having nothing to do with Zubov's work, will be named the Roman D. Zubov Omni-Sci Facility and Office. Close, right?

----------

The room you have fallen into is dark and small. The only light, that from the desert above, shows a dim closet, stacked with shelves of equal mix, office and medical supplies. The wall besides you bears a door, opening into a brightly lit hallway. The only sounds besides the sandstorm, still whirling above the hole behind you, are the hum of the lights and your only hesitant steps.

Many doors have automatically locked themsleves, leaving the windowless rooms a mystery. Those that were left open show just how quickly this place was abandoned. Computers, each labelled "RDZ", show "Autolock" screens. The few pieces of paper not fed through antiquated Shred-o-Master machine show arcane mathematics, and mentions of robotics, biology, and engineering. Two projects stand out among them Conquest and War. All the actual writing seems to be encrypted, you can't determine just what they were doing.

The hallway comes to and end at strong double doors, though the lock mechanism has short circuited. You enter a large laboratory, massive vats fill the room, each acompanied by a table with all manner of displays. Inside the vats are creatures out of some fantastic tale. To your left, all hold demonic forms, some insect like, others with some strange exoskeletal armor. To your right, the vats hold tall, thin figures, graceful even in their death, seemingly made of some strange, solid energy. Near the end of the lab, one of the vats on the right is empty, labelled P. Calath.

Beyond the laboratory is another, much shorter hallway. As you move further in, a terrible smell begins to arise. Cautious, you open another large set of doors, and find yourself in a massive room. Dominating the area is a block of myriad technologies, connected to cables and smaller machines, all running out and through the walls. You see the easy to recognize nanobot controllers of industrial size, but merged with them and other modern technologies are ancient stone creations. Light glows from within many of these odd items. You are reminded of the stories you've heard of the myseterious Shadowlands.

Something calls you closer, you find yourself half way towards the block without realizing you'd begun walking. Only now do you see the bodies littering the floor. Scientists, security, and men in expensive suits, all with numerous bullet wounds. More confusing, however, are the puddles of water leading into a hole in the side of the machine. You follow them, stepping over and around corpses as if they were strewn furniture.

The interior is similar to the exterior, simply darker. There is a deep blue glow coming from the stone pieces, but even that begins to fade. Soon, you are in complete darkness, and complete silence. You take a few steps backwards, but find the entrance to be gone. In fact, everything seems to be gone. You are completely alone, in empty space.

But it doesn't last long. Soon, an explosion brings life to the area around you. Light fills the room, and fades to show a gigantuan ship, of the same stone machinery from before, aiming for an unfamiliar sky. The image fades into a new scene, the elegant and demonic creatures from the lab, fighting a battle. And then living uncomfortably side by side. And then, the darkness again.

This time, you are not alone. You can see nothing, hear nothing, but you know there are others there. Hundreds of other people, and one heavy, imposing presence. Like the the previous visit, it does not last long. This time, you find yourself in a city, much more familiar looking than those of the creatures. Men and women, seemingly all unmodified, move about in their busy lives. Towers of glass and stone rise all around you. Vehicles travel along the ground on wheels. You have time for a single thought, "Earth", before being thrust back into the darkness. Hundreds of screaming voices is the only thing you know for countless minutes. Screaming voices, and a single voice, female, yet modified, mechanical as if through poor quality speakers. "It's so cold."

Silence again. The imposing presence from before looms closer. You drift, weightless. The presence presses upon your very mind, you begin to know its will without hearing, see its power without seeing. You can feel everything you are strip away, as if eaten by some strange creatures, laughing at your loss. Before long, you have only your name, and even that is threatened.

And then it is gone, you are no more, you are one with the darkness, returned to what you know all shall be returned to some day. The last thought you are able to have, the only thought you will ever now know, the thought given to you "I hunger, ergo, I wait."

[trousers]

^ ^ ^

That's the correct way to enter the contest, which, you're all running out of time to enter.

[Tanisthonus]

Don't tell them that! It's not hard to write better than I can, my only hope is limited entries!

No, seriously, I'd hate to win because of few entries. Where are all the writers?

[Towerblock]

I'm not entering because as much as I like the idea of winning the book, the thought of putting my characters in that situation means it wont end well for most of them. If I were, then I would write is as a complete fiction, on top of the fiction it already would be.

[trousers]

Yeah, Bubba, That's the point. It's an OOC Story. getting people writing for the sake of writing for other's entertainment.

[Towerblock]

Well let me put it to you another way. There is a reason why I shouldn't enter. Its the same reason why family and friends of lottery or sweeps agents aren't allowed to win jackpots in some states.

[trousers]

Just to hopefully encourage more people to write, here is something i put together.

----

Night vision: [A C T I V E]

Tom Harking’s ocular implant begins to softly glow, giving the room a faint black and green outline.

“For ****’s sake.” He mutters as he picks himself up from the diamond printed steel floor plates he landed on.

Looking around the dark room he is able to make out a number of barren steel shelves which, based upon the wrappers on the floor, must have served as a food pantry in addition to the single door which leads out of the room. Seeing as how the sand has started to be pushed down into the room through the hole in the ceiling he decided it was time to open the door the further explore the structure.

The pantry opens up into a large, well-kept kitchen. Highly polished countertops and dishes drying on a rack give the immediate impression that this room was recently used by someone. Several dark hallways indicate that this room may be a hub for an expansive structure, however, Tom’s attention is focused on a wide staircase leading out of the kitchen and up toward a soft light.

Breaking the thumb restraint on his OT Army Officer Pistol he slowly lifts the weapon to a low ready position and begins to advance on the source of the light.

The top landing of the stairs open up into a room of impressive size. Poured cement walls support a wide array of computer monitors and scanning equipment which surround a central workstation. As Tom’s attention focuses on this workstation the high backed chair stationed at the table spins around, revealing Dr. Zubov.

“Well done, Thomas. For a moment you had me worried that you would die before you made it here.”

“Who are you, and how do you know my name?”

A pair of doors slam shut behind Tom, sealing him in the command center.

“Who I am is of no concern to you, Thomas. The only thing that matters is that you’re finally going to pay for the atrocities you’ve committed.”

“**** this noise.” Tom retorts as he raises his pistol and begins to empty his magazine at Roman.

With a raise of his hand Roman executes Nullity Barrier, which stops all of Tom’s bullets in mid-flight.

“Honestly I tell you, Thomas. You are in way over your head. Simply surrender and allow fate to run its course.”

Dropping the magazine out of his pistol, Tom reaches to his belt to withdraw a fresh magazine but he was suddenly interrupted. Whipping his other arm around, Roman executes an experimental version of Electrifying Containment, blasting Tom square in the chest sending him flying backward into the door.

Reeling in pain, Tom looks up to see Roman executing an experimental version of Gravitational Anomaly. This Nano Program grips at Tom’s extremities, stretching him out as if he were Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man while lifting him into the air.

“You have been found Guilty, Thomas. Guilty of crimes against the Chosen Ones.”

With a hiss and whine of hydraulics a large chamber attached to the wall opens up.

“Your punishment will be a lifetime of servitude to the one you crossed. The problem, Thomas, is that your pathetic life is not proper payment for her lady, Dalja. She was proclaimed that you are to become one of us, and you will serve her until the end of time.”

With a wave of his arm Roman begins to move Tom toward the open chamber until he is interrupted.

“Roman.” The computer system broadcasts to the room.

“What is it, Yvette? Can’t you see that I am busy?”

“We have an incoming transmission. The source is originating from Orbit. We have been found, Roman.”

“What!? Patch it through.”

“This is Admiral Colchester of the OTS Persisting Vigilance. We have detected fluxuations in the vitals of our messenger and have conducted a sensor sweep of the area. We regret to inform you that we have detected the presence of Omega DNA inside of your facility. In accordance with OTAF Directive 1 your structure has been deemed a base of hostile operation. Our assets on the ground are having their emergency insurance protocols enacted. Have a nice day”

With a somewhat puzzled look on his face, Tom’s eyes roll backward in his head as his body dies.

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the OTS Persisting Vigilance:

“Set condition one and spool up all weapons.”

“Aye, Admiral.” One of the junior officers responds. “All weapons report ready to fire.”.

“Status of the prisoner?”

“Medical reports a successful reclaim, Admiral.”

“Very good. All weapons target the compound. Fire for effect.”

“Aye, Admiral. Weapons are free.”

[Notcrattey]

I'll write up some fantastical story if I have the chance I'd rather enjoy owning that book.

[trousers]

Congratulations to Tanisthonus, who has won and accepted the prize.

Please feel free to continue to write and post replied to the theme if you're so inclined.

[Tanisthonus]

Even with it over, I know I would still like to see what people can do!