Shipwreaked!!! (open)

Discussion in 'Collaborative Stories' started by Expendable, Apr 13, 2011.

  1. Expendable

    Expendable infomaniac

    Jul 29, 2003
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    SCENE: Freighter Bridge, abandoned. Alarms are blaring, red lights flashing, as a planet fills the screen.

    SCENE: Cargo hold, racks holding tall silver cylinders, each a stasis chamber holding a single sentient life form, frozen in an endless moment of time.

    SCENE: Exterior shot of the ship roaring silently past the viewer, falling towards the planet below. Dramatic music begins to play faintly, slowly building.

    Announcer: "Ts'Goda IV, a once vibrant planet whose people destroyed themselves in a violent war two centuries before. An empty, desolate world - and a hundred slaves taken from a distant planet, suspended in stasis are about to be marooned there!"

    "Welcome to Shipwreaked!"

    Horns blare out as the cameras zoom in on an alien city that looks like melted orange mounds with square holes that used to be windows. A plume of black smoke is rising in the center of the alien city, the cameras zooming in closer on a swath of destruction, ending with the twisted wreckage of the interstellar freighter lying in a burning grassy sward that might have been a park centuries before. There are holes in the hull where the lifepods have ejected. After a pause, the camera pulls back as if rising through the air until it stops, showing a glittering space station lying in orbit. A window comes into focus and the cameras zoom in on a small studio audience and a small stage with a smirking Frengua male neatly attired in pressed khakis, brown boots and belt with a large curved knife sitting on his hip.

    "Gentlebeings, let me present to you to Scara!"


    Scara grins, his thick eyestalks like a snail’s wave through his dark hair looking into the camera.

    "That's right, gentlebeings! I, Scara, have rescued one hundred primitive beings from the slave markets to compete with each other for a chance to return back to their world!"

    "Hidden cameras observing their every move, while their Omnis," he paused, showing off his own brown wrist Omni , "listen to every word, every whisper! Before this season is through, you will get to know these primitive people like they were your own family!"

    "Of course," the Frengua smirks, cocking his head while one eyestalk winks at the TV Audience, "We're not going to let them all go at once!"

    "Let's go back down to the cargo hold to watch as the first few stasis bubbles pop!"

    SCENE: Cargo hold. Half of the stasis cylinders remain in their racks while others lie strewn all over the floor of the hold. Viewers can see dents in the wall where cylinders had slammed into them - yet the stasis cylinders are totally unharmed.

    One of the cylinders suddenly shimmers like a wand of sparkles and vanishes. The human suspended unharmed inside falls a few inches to the floor, gasping and looking around the shadowy hold. Unseen, the studio audience roars with applause.


    The last thing you remember is seeing a bright light overhead. Now you've woken up surrounded by silver stasis pods inside a crashed alien space ship in the middle of some long abandoned alien city that looks melted, with no idea how you got there and certainly no idea how you're getting home.

    What you don't know is high above you, an alien spaceship is gathering broadcast signals from your personal wrist Omnis and thousands of hidden micro-cameras to produce the ultimate reality show - with you and your fellow abductees as the unwitting unpaid talent.

    To keep you healthy, an alien symbiont has been injected into you. It keeps you from getting sick from native microbes, viruses, germs and bacteria - and helping you heal faster. Sick people do not make for good entertainment.

    You've also had a language implant - it doesn't matter where you're from, you're all speaking Rädetá. You probably won't notice it unless someone says your French (or whatever language they usually speak at home) is very good.

    You're all still wearing whatever you had when you were abducted. However, your pockets are empty; any purses, bags, watches or weapons are gone.

    You do have what looks to be a bright orange watch somehow molded on your left wrist - the pliable band just tight enough you can't slip it off your wrist (it actually shrinks if you try to remove it and cannot be cut). This is your Omni. The watch counts up to 1999 during the day (0000 is local midnight, 1000 is local noon), but if you tap the watch crystal, it switches modes:

    • two-way radio
    • Location map, showing you bright orange dots for everyone near you.
    • Video diary (players are encouraged to make entries)

    The Omni turns red if you come close to dangerous radiation, contaminated or poisonous food/water or out-of-bounds areas. If you get too close, the Omni will sound an alarm.

    The characters are ordinary human people from everyday life – students, doctors, lawyers, librarians, reporters, frustfrated writers, cosplay fans, etc. Unfortunately military/survival types are too expensive for the show's budget (Explorer outfits & private security firms bought them out from under us) and are not as fun to watch, so there will be no military snipers or Special Forces types. Because anyone can join at any time, your first post should be your abduction story (one paragraph) then waking up in the cargo hold with your empty pockets and wrist Omni.

    Please no god-modding (directing the actions of someone else's character) or meta-gaming (using knowledge that isn't available to your character, such as knowing you're on a game show).
    Last edited: Apr 13, 2011
  2. Ramirez

    Ramirez Art Student

    Nov 11, 2010
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    "I don't know where I am. It smells like ****, not the normal kind of human or animal **** though, but a **** that smells like someone ate a hundred jars of peanut-butter, **** that out, and then ate the peanut-butter ****. I really can't stand the smell. I wanna leave this place, but honestly, first I want to check out the hot redhead in the corner and see what her story is. This blonde haired douche keeps talking to her and I think he's trying to make the moves. I don't know where I am or how long I'm gonna live, but if I'm going to die I'll be damned if I'm not ****ing something before I do it."

    "So, what the hell is going on in here?" I ask her, walking over.

    She stares at me in a confused fashion. I look down to make sure I'm wearing clothes. I am.

    "What's wrong?" I ask.

    The blonde haired douche speaks up, "She's mute, dumbass."

    That saucy son of a bitch.

    This wouldn't be easy, but having sex with a mute often wasn't easy.
  3. N. E. White

    N. E. White tmso Staff Member

    Jun 11, 2009
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    Cassandra woke with a headache. And upside down. A dull pain emanated from the top of her head, threatening to overwhelm her. She resisted the urge to vomit and focused on the moving figures in front of her.

    A boy pestered a couple. He waved his hands in the air, which was down according to Cassadra, then grabbed his balls, nodding his head the red-headed woman, making some sort of sexual suggestion. The blond man wrapped his arm protectively around the woman and flipped the boy off.

    Cassandra moved her hand up (down?) to her head, expecting to feel the wet, stickiness of blood but instead hit the ceiling.

    Floor, she corrected herself, realizing she was standing on her head. Easing her legs to the ground, she managed to end up on her hands and knees without hurting herself. She burped and held back the last meal she had had before boarding the hull. Her eyes focused on that damn Omni and she knew.

    Owen had been right.

    A shout from the boy caused her to look up, too quickly. Her stomach gurgled. They were arguing, over what, Cassadra could only imagine. She scanned the rest of the room. Hundreds woke at a snail's pace. Some were more coherent that others, but most looked as turned around as she felt. Shouts, greetings, and the sounds of a general melee started around her. Glancing back at the boy, she thought that they probably all thought this was an accident. But she knew. Owen said a crash would happen mid-trip, they wouldn't even get to the distribution center, then the show would begin. She had mocked him. Said that his conspiracy gland was acting up again. He had started to mention a way out, but she had cut him off and gave him one last kiss before she got dragged into the processing plant.

    She looked down at her Omni. With a shaking hand, she pressed the video blog button and puked, making sure the chunky bits hit the face of the Omni. Give 'em what they deserve, she thought.

    Spitting on the face to clear it, she wiped it clean and said, "Owen! Can you hear me?"
    Last edited: Apr 16, 2011
  4. Expendable

    Expendable infomaniac

    Jul 29, 2003
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    In the back of the hovervan, everyone was crying. They were all young and for many the first time they'd been off the plantation that had been their home.It would likely be the last time they'd see family and friends.

    The hovervan slowed to a stop, then moved backwards before stopping again. Then the doors opened. A blue skinned Cevasi with a datapad looked them over with a sour expression, then with both left arms pointed to a nearby wall.

    "Alright, get out and line up over there! No fuss now!"

    Teva crawled out with the rest of them in their drawstring pants and offwhite tunic, wiping her eyes dry as she crossed the short distance from the back of the hovervan to the wall where beings in coveralls quickly sorted them into a rough line.
    She could see another bunch of dazed humans, dressed in strange bright clothes, slowly shuffling out of a shuttle where another group of aliens in coveralls and hard hats shepard them towards the processing enterance.

    "Humans," scowled the Cevasi, scribbling something on his pad as he walked up the line, letting his pad pull the data from their Omnis. He paused as he reached Teva, giving her a look then glancing over at her master. "Can't believe you're giving her up!"

    "My son is showing just a little too much interest in her. My wife wants him married and her gone," the lanky alien replied, smiling sadly at her. "Good worker, gonna miss her."

    "Master Je'red, please! You know I did nothing with your son!" she said, stepping forward. Two goons shoved her back.

    "It's not what you did or didn't do, Tevah," Je'red drawled. "Iffen I brought you back home, the Misses will probably bite my head off."

    The Cevasi paled and winced, then waved at his workers to take them in. "Don't worry sir, we'll take good care of her and the others."

    "Wha... what's going on?" Teva demanded, blinking furiously. A moment ago she'd been under the bright lights of the stasis unit - and now it was pitch black! She reached out and felt the slick feel of a stasis pod to the left of her. Others were talking somewhere, their voices strange. What was this place?

    Her eyes adjusted slowly. Carefully she stepped down off the rack and made her way towards the light. A pale human woman, dressed in strange clothes, threw up over her Omni then yelled for "Owen", whatever that was. What kind of mad house did she get sold to?