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Outpost 32

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Ziggy455
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#1

Posted 10 January 2013 - 11:01 PM Edited by Ziggy455, 12 February 2013 - 06:22 PM.

user posted image

BETA

THE STORY

The Antarctic, 1982. It's been three days since the events that transpired at Outpost 31. The flames had died out, but once again the Thing refused to die. Fifteen miles on foot, Childs, the only survivor makes his way to Outpost 32: A small reseach outpost West of Прометей Outpost 33. The nightmare is far from over, and the prelude to madness will begin shortly. Nobody can trust anybody.

Rule One: Writing Stories and the world around you.
You live in Outpost 32, an outpost research centre, fifteen miles from Outpost 31 and sixty five miles from Outpost 33, a Russian based location. Your character lives here in Outpost 31, you are in control of them fully and the environment around you. Writing stories are simple. Your character can interact with NPC characters, directly controlling their actions within their story. Your stories must have a definite layout and the minimum amount of words for a single story is 300 words. Your story must begin like so:

Name: EXAMPLE Dave Hardware.
Profession: Helicopter Pilot
Location: Bunks

ALL STORIES MUST BE IN ARIAL FONT AND PRESENTED LIKE SHOWN.


Rule Two: Writing stories with others in the room.
When other players are in the room with you, story layouts remain primarily the same, however, the main difference is that there is a CUTOFF POINT. The cut-off point is the point in one players story is the next character’s beginning point. For example:

QUOTE
X sighed. His eyes stared out at the black oblivion that hailed itself with snow in the blizzard. His gloved hands tapped the communications rig. “f*ck, this thing is fried alright.” He looked over to Y. “Do you believe that this just broke? Or do you think foul play was to blame?” Y rubbed his eyes and walked over to the rig.

“Hard to say, the storm’s pretty high.”

Maybe , but what about Z? He’s fried. Banks had to lock him down in the supply closet until he stopped freaking out.”

“What was he scared about?”

“Beats me.”


The red cut-off point is what the character must include at the start of their story, so as to keep a linear motion of their story. So here is the next player’s example:

QUOTE
“Maybe, but what about Z? He’s fried. Banks had to lock him down in the supply closet until he stopped freaking out.” Said X, his eyes still scanning the darkness.

“What was he scared about?” asked Y as his eyes flitted back and forth from X to the darkness.

“Beats me.”

“Well he should be okay in there for now.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

Anyway , we’ve gotta sort out this communication sh*t.” Y patted the rig with a sigh and took of his gloves. His yellow jacket began to drip onto the floor, Christ it was hot in here. That was what he needed, the heating system to f*ck up along with communications. That’d be the icing on the cake.


Rule Three: Continuity.

Your world exists in real time. The players must remain faithful to the story and this means that your laziness WILL appear in your stories if you don’t keep up. If you smash a window in the common room, that window will still be broken until somebody fixes it. Continuity of the environment and people’s action is one of the main ways that players will learn to create a faithful universe.
For example: If one character is drinking coffee and they place a mug on a table in the common room, that mug will remain there. Consistency of the environment and actions will make continuance between stories more faithful.


Rule Four: Action Points and the AP System.
ACTION POINTS are a low-based currency system in Outpost 32. Action Points are used up to do certain actions successfully. Moderators will tell you whether or not you must rewrite your story if you do not have enough action points. Actions that require AP are:

Searching for an item (1)

Attacking an NPC/ Player (1)

Moving between separate buildings (1)

Using a weapon successfully (1 point cost one bullet. Or 20% health due to burns.)


If you attempt to do any of these actions without the sufficient action points required, you will be asked to re-write your story to fit the continuity so the next character can continue the action. For example:

QUOTE
X slammed his body against the door. “f*ck you, Z!” He was one of them. He knew it. He could sense it! Z’s tiny frame shoved the metallic door forward; its frame collided with the concrete wall. X slid back to the communication rig and fumbled around for his weapon (-1). His hand slid around the butt of his Colt. He aimed forward and fired a round off that echoed. The bullet pierced Z’s shoulder, sending him backwards with a scream, the metallic pipe in his hand sliding to the floor with a clang.


Rule Five: Plot Points.
Plot points are narratives that can be bought for a certain amount of action points. These are created in order to continue either a universal narrative between characters, and to also add variety to the story of Outpost 32. Depending on the cost of the plot point, the severity and chance of both infection, and coming into contact with The Thing rises. Plot points must be written in three parts, beginning, middle, and end. Each part has to be a minimum of 300 words. If any of your parts end with other characters in the same area then they too must include the action within their next story (See Rule One).

Rule Six: NPC Characters.
NPC characters are player controlled characters that are all over the compound. There are 13 NPC Characters in total; all of them are susceptible to paranoia, infection, and anything else. If an NPC is in the same room as a player, the NPC will be in control of whatever player is writing at the time.

Rule Seven: Fighting and killing The Thing

The Thing is an extra-terrestrial life form that exists by assimilating the DNA of its prey in order to replicate the molecules to create a living, breathing, and clone of the person but with one deadly difference; the consciousness and ability to infect others. If The Thing or an infected person turns, then one character must take on the beast. It will cost you 5 actions points, a flamed-weapon and it will take a beginning, middle, and end (300 words each). Four of your action points will drop down The Thing’s health to 20% and the final point will be to burn the monster’s final 20% so as it fully kill it. If two characters are in the room with the monster, it is possible for two characters to share action points together. If X uses three action points, his next story must include THREE attacks, and then Y will continue to story with another attack and the death of the beast.

IF the player does not have enough action points, they will be consumed and infected. They must write this as a story and must then take on the role of The Thing.

For every three stories, a moderator will lightly check in and make sure Action Points are given out.

PersonUsernameHealthLocationAction PointsWeapons
J.T MacMurphy
Ziggy455
100%
Bunks
8
--
Leon S. Laguna VIII
AceRay
100%
Bunks
12
[-
[font=Arial]--
--
100%
--
10
--
--
--
100%
--
10
--
--

--
100%
--
10
--
--
--
100%
--
10
--
--
--
100%
--
10
--


PLOT POINTCOST
FIX MAIN GENERATOR IN SUPPLY ROOM3 Action Points
Meet Childs5 action points
----



Marcus Watts - Location: Cafeteria
Marcus Watts is a heavily-muscular man. Of African descent he studied mechanics for several years in Harlem before being sent away after a job application running and maintaing vehicles around the compound. Watts has a moustache and a bald head. He is quiet and reserved.
George Skinner Jr. - Location: Cafeteria
Skinner is the head cook of Outpost 32. He is in charge of two other cooks, Dean Michaels, and Darren Bryant. He has an extremely large frame but is very healthy. He is from a distant part of Russia, but years out here in the cold have given his voice a more American feel. He is 47.
Dean Michaels - Location: Cafeteria
Skinner's right hand cook. He is young, quiet and half-chinese.
Darren Bryant - Cafeteria storage
Skinner's protege. He is mid-heigh, black, and skinny. He has a quirky, smartass attitude but can cook anything beautifully. He sticks around with Dean; the two share an odd relationship that others admit is a little too close.
Nikolai Broadvich - Cafeteria
A part of the excavations team, Nikolai is from Serbia. He has a tough, firm, exterior and tends to read poetry. He is the third member of the excavations squad.
R.J Daniels - Common Room
Head of the excavation team, R.J Daniels is a British-born man. He sports a radiant brown beard and tends to have the qualities of a born leader. He is quiet but ultimately self-involved and selfish. He is 33.
Childs - Location: Unknown
Only apparent survivor of Outpost 32. He is quiet and covered in frostbite. He remains quiet and unmoving from the bunk quarters. He is 29 years old.
Van Ark Jalen - Location: Common Room
The second member of the excavation team. He remains quiet at all times and keeps to himself. He is 36 years old.
Michael Phelps - Location: Second Floor - Communications and Generator Room.
The third member of the excavation team. He is 25 years old and has an average frame. He seems quite uneasy and nervous most of the time.
Hans Burgen - Location: Watchtower
A german Snowologist, working closely with several norweigens.
Dr. Copper - Location: Medical Bay
A thin, old man. He has a thinning hairline and is constantly muttering to himself. He is the outpost Doctor. Although edgy, he is reliable and not afraid of a fight, whether it comes in the form of a patient or something else. He is 56 years old.
Janet Burnside - Location: Medical Bay
Dr. Copper's aide. She is young and reserved but finds comfort with the Norweigans.
Sebastien Ludvik - Location: Common Room
A bearded, quiet Norweigan working for Burgen.
Arvid Ludvik - Location: Dog Sheds
A bearded Norweigan working for Burgen. He is short and the brother of Arvid. He is a warmer person and likes Burnside with a heartwrenching love.
Frederik Lars - Location: Bunks
The oldest of the Norweigans, he is quiet but resourceful and is social enough around Outpost 32. He is friends with each member of the excavation team.


user posted image


Job Roles that your character may be:

Station Leader
Medical Doctor
Meteorological Technical Officer
Meteorological Observer
Plant Inspector
Mechanic
Electrician
Plumber
Carpenter
Communications Officer
Scientist
Engineer
Helicopter Pilot
Computer Scientist

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#2

Posted 10 January 2013 - 11:16 PM

Sorry, but this is quite complicated and hard to understand. confused.gif But still I would like to try it soon. tounge.gif

Ziggy455
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#3

Posted 10 January 2013 - 11:54 PM

In simple terms you write stories based on your character and you use action points in order to complete certain tasks.

Coat.
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#4

Posted 11 January 2013 - 01:09 AM Edited by Coat., 11 January 2013 - 01:13 AM.

Character - Nick Fields (age 27, a snowologist studying land around Outpost 32; in the cafeteria)

---

PROLOGUE

1982 – Unknown to man anymore, a beast from far away has landed in Earth. It already has claimed victims of two previous outposts now. Three days after the horrendous events of Outpost 31, a lone survivor stumbles over twenty miles to the small compound close to Outpost 32. The almost frozen man, Childs slowly makes his way towards his goal. And so begins the prelude to the madness.

Nick slowly chewed on his last piece of gum that he owned and leaned against the bench... it slowly creaked. He was the life of the party, as everything seemed numb in the room. There had been reports of a massive blizzard strolling through the area of Outpost 32, and the power had gone off three hours ago. Nick looked down at his two buddies laying on the floor playing an intense game of scrabble. Over in the corner stood a bearded man, slowly sipping on his last cold Budweiser.

Nick was really hoping for power to turn back on, because everything began to slowly turn awkward. For just a second, everyone seemed to here white noise, and then the yelling came from the bunks. Startled, everyone stopped what they were doing.



... "What in the name was that?" yelled Nick.


Danny opened his mouth, and down the hatch went the rest of the beer, before turning and saying, "Relax, it's probably just the dogs. They are just a little restless when storms hit,". Nick walked over towards a bench on the table and opened a gun case, revealing a Semi-automatic rifle. Somebody laughed in the room, "Your're not going to do much damage with that,", but at the same time, they were hoping it to be effective as possible if it were going to hurt them.

He threw Danny a small silenced pistol... "Fields, there's no bullets in this thing?"

He only just remember that a couple of guys from Outpost 14 were going to drop some boxes of supplies that exact day. Knowbody really knew when the rough blizzard was going to end. From Nick's memory, a large snow storm can last up to 72 hours. Sh*t, he thought to himself, knowing that they were going to be here for a while. The only thing working was a portable radio, that was low on battery. Nick placed the gun back into it's case and walked over to the radio shack, radio. The radio was connected to all wirless boom boxes located around the Outpost, to give some life to the cold place. He flicked through the static channels, until something became clear...

"Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely... I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue," echoed throughout the silent hallways.

Someone called, "If there's someone in here, maybe we should go look,"... but no one liked the idea. Nick rememberd one other guy was sitting up in the watchtower. Perhaps they could use handheld transceiver to talk to him, to see if he was alright. "Hey Danny, see if Rocko's alright up in the watchtower, will ya?".

"Wond'ring what in the world did I do... Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you..."

"Somebody turn that off," he waved his hand towards the radio. He spoke into the transmitter, "Rocko, you there buddy...?" and for a second, there was static... "Yeah, I'm here... what just happened? Low voltage or something... I can't see for sh*t," then it was followed by white noise... "Yeah, there is a blizzard, and it's going to get pretty cold out there in the tower," yelled Dan... but there was no reply.

"I gotta go out there and save him," said Dan, picking up his jacket and walking towards the door. Nick yelled, "You can't, it's below 0 out there and you'll freeze,"... Dan thought about not going for a second, but decided to take his chances and leave the room. Nick yelled out, "If you're going out there, you might as well turn the power on manually?"... Nicolas quickly turned around, sticking the gum underneath the pool table, "This is f*cking excelent," he said sacrastically.



Ziggy455
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#5

Posted 11 January 2013 - 02:27 AM

Haha, don't start your stories yet! This is a BETA. Things are being tweaked and the rules are being redone to become more simplistic. notify.gif

Coat.
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#6

Posted 11 January 2013 - 03:49 AM

Why post it then?

AceRay
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#7

Posted 11 January 2013 - 07:04 AM Edited by AceRay, 11 January 2013 - 07:45 AM.

I am literally on the edge of my seat for this. When will it get started for real?

Also, what kind of professions are there in the Arctic, for those who don't know much about Polar research and stuff. Could there be some sort of list of basic roles that could get writers started?

Ziggy455
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#8

Posted 11 January 2013 - 07:17 PM

QUOTE (AceRay @ Friday, Jan 11 2013, 07:04)
I am literally on the edge of my seat for this. When will it get started for real?

Also, what kind of professions are there in the Arctic, for those who don't know much about Polar research and stuff. Could there be some sort of list of basic roles that could get writers started?

I see what you mean; this BETA was to sort of let people know that a BETA is on the way. Things I'll be uploading later tonight are the final rules and fundamentals to be implemented and instructions for writers and also better headers. I'll also be putting up a few links about Arctic conditions, hypothermia, and possibly a better compound map.

It'll start soon. I can't let it begin when it's like this. I'll be improving it ASAP.

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#9

Posted 12 January 2013 - 12:04 AM

You need to put a shower room on the map. It's in the movie IIRC.

Ziggy455
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#10

Posted 12 January 2013 - 05:30 PM Edited by Ziggy455, 12 January 2013 - 05:35 PM.

Okay, it's updated. Should be easier to understand now. biggrin.gif
QUOTE

Also, what kind of professions are there in the Arctic


Check the main post! I've given a list at the bottom of the page. cool.gif

Ziggy455
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#11

Posted 12 January 2013 - 06:06 PM Edited by Ziggy455, 12 February 2013 - 06:18 PM.



Name: Johnathan Teller MacMurphy
Profession: Helicopter Pilot
Location: Bunks

MacMurphy stared up at the cracked wooden boards of the bed above. His body barely fit on the bed.

He was a man of bronze, his height at 6’1. His almost red tinged beard was tied up with a bobble like a Viking. His muscular frame made the bed squeak as he sat up. The watch on his wrist told him it was 8:00pm. Dinner would be ready soon, and Skinner had promised something good tonight for the boys.

MacMurphy himself found nights to be boring here. Being the Helicopter Pilot in a blizzard meant he had a few days off as the storm outside continued to blaze and screech. The thick portal window of the bunks gave way to the darkness of the night mixed with the whiteness of the snow underneath. Nothing else was visible except the chanlink fence that lightly shook as snow began to kiss it. The storm had been going on for a while now. Outpost 33 and 31 weren’t responding and MacMurphy wasn’t half as spooked as was say, any of the Norwegians that were worried about their scattered friends.

MacMurphy tied his huge boots and headed over to the Cafeteria. He passed the hustle and bustle that followed every Friday night; people drinking and having fun, chess games mixed with scotch made for poor choices and tiffs between friends that would dissipate along with the bottles of Jack Daniels.

MacMurphy stepped into the large, cold, cafeteria. The sound of pots and pans smashed and Skinner’s voice echoed out.

For f*ck sake, that’s a big cache you’ve got. You kill the cow?”

“You’re the head cook, you ordered it!” Replied Darren with the low voice.

“Skinner! You still cooking? I’m starving over here.” Yelled Nikolai with his almost noticeable Serbian tongue. He sat perched on a bench, his eyes scanning a worn book of T.S Eliot.

“Keep your hat on there, Shookspeare.”

“It’s a SHAKE-Speare.” He said folding his book, his hands gesturing emphasis.

“Whatever, you wanna eat tonight? It’s f*ckin’ Shook.” Yelled the fat cook, his hands wrapped around a hammer; tenderising large chunks of meat.

Nikolai let out a bellow of a laugh and returned to his yarn. He gave MacMurphy a wave.

“Mac, my friend, Skinner’s cooking up steak.”

Mac sat down opposite Nikolai and looked around. The place was almost empty.

“Steak? Special occasion?”

AceRay
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#12

Posted 13 January 2013 - 01:01 AM

Can we start now? Is it still in beta?

Name: Leon S. Laguna VIII
Profession: Stealthy Mafia Hitman (nah, just kidding, he’s a Mechanic)
Location: Bunks

In an instant, a cold chill swept through the mechanic’s spine, ending his restless dreams, causing him to leap to the window from his top bunk and gaze out at the darkness. He looked over the cold horizon of the Arctic through the tiny window and gritted his grimy teeth, bringing his hand up to scratch the rough stubble that had formed itself around his chin. For a moment, he thought he saw a ghostly figure move in the shadows of the night but convinced himself he was seeing things. His woollen sweater was scratching his chest as his messy, black hair flopped over his eyes. Despite being only thirty five, from an untrained eye he could pass for his forties, maybe even his early fifties.

“I don’t like it out there,” Laguna coldly muttered through his slender lips, still gazing out at the horizon’s cold embrace. He blew his large fringe out of his piercing green eyes and continued. “It’s unlike any night I’ve ever seen before; I’ve got a bad feeling about it too. We haven’t heard from Outpost 31 and 33 in a while. It’s just fishy, eh MacMurphy?” there was no reply. “MacMurphy?” he turned around to see that his bunk was empty, the sheets crumpled and unmade. It was obvious that the helicopter pilot had departed to the cafeteria. Laguna was too tired to follow him and let his suspicions pass through the night. He took a deep breath and was about to get back into his bunk when suddenly it was none other than Marcus Watts standing before him in the doorway, as imposing and bald as ever.

“There’s been a break in one of the generators, something to do with the wiring,” Watts shook to keep himself warm, slipping a beanie over his head. “Don’t worry, we’ve got a backup generator running, but we’ll need to get it fixed soon.”

“I’ll do it in the morning or when the storm passes, whichever comes first.”

Yeah , don’t worry, it’s not urgent. Probably nothing serious, just got to check carburettor gaskets and clean it,” Watts turned to go as Laguna moved to a nearby table and started to read an owner’s workshop manual about Mercedes-Benz 350 and 450 V8's from 1971 to 1980, his eyes intently digesting the rich diagrams of the chassis. “Dinner will be ready soon and you’re going to miss it.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Laguna gave him a blank stare and Watts chuckled. “Jeez man, you barely eat anything. You’re going to starve to death.” There was no reply. Watts shrugged his shoulders and left into the black of the night, back to the cafeteria. Laguna was used to the hunger. When he was working in Rio, he survived on nothing but water and slices of cheese for a month. The hunger and pains only made him more determined and even stronger. Slowly, he put down the manual and started tapping his fingers on the cover, a slow, rhythmic beat that almost sent chills down his spine.

Laguna was ready for whatever was coming for him, for he knew that his end was near.

Current Location: Bunks


AceRay
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#13

Posted 21 January 2013 - 12:48 AM

I think its time for The Thing to start to bump people off ph34r.gif

Character: Laguna VIII. Profession: Mechanic. Location: Bunks.

Laguna closed his eyes, sat back in his seat and thought of cars. The turbo of a mint Saab 900 purring through the night stimulated his thoughts before images of a bright red Ferrari 250GTO glimmered through his mind. Suddenly, he heard footsteps from outside and without warning, Frederik Lars came through the room, stroking his beard and smiling to himself. He gave a confused look at Laguna sitting in the room alone and approached him.

“Are you new here?”

“No, what’s it to ‘ya?”

“I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention,” Laguna sarcastically quipped as he leaned back and picked up the car manual to stare at the automotive pornography. “Laguna VIII, remember? I mainly spend my time alone.”

The penny dropped for Lars. “Oh yeah, I think I’ve seen you a couple of times. Sorry, it’s just that I know everyone around so, well, it was a bit surprising to see someone I don’t know.”

Laguna chuckled to himself as Lars sat down and began to smoke a pipe. He had seen the Norwegian around camp

He put down the manual and turned his head gradually towards Lars. “No. I do however have a mint 1979 Mercedes SL. Nice roadster,” Laguna reached for his pocket and showed him a picture of the black roadster. “This baby’s got a V8.”

“That’s funny; my brother’s got a BMW. You like German cars?”

Yeah , I was car mechanic for a few years in South America. Worked on some nice cars.”

“Must have been pretty expensive,” Laguna just gave a perturbed smirk at the statement and looked towards his bunk as Lars blew a deep breath of smoke out. Thoughts of the beautiful beaches and towering mountains of Brazil filtered through his mind, reminding him of some of the best days of his life. And the worst. He turned back to see Lars flicking through the manual and scrowling at the complex diagrams.

“This here be quite complicated stuff.”

“Whatever," Laguna said under his breath when suddenly, they heard a loud noise from outside the window, the duo spinning their heads to see what the cause was.

Laguna current location: Bunks
Lars current location: Bunks


Ziggy455
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#14

Posted 12 February 2013 - 06:13 PM Edited by Ziggy455, 12 February 2013 - 06:17 PM.

I’m going to spend three action points of restoring the generator. This will be written in three parts, each five hundred words minimum.

- 3 Action Points

PART I/3: FIXING THE GENERATOR

Name: T.J. MacMurphy
Profession: Helicopter Pilot
Location: Cafeteria

“Not unless you consider broken generator occasion to celebrate,” said Nikolai, his eyes fixed sternly on the bible-like poetry book. MacMurphy sighed heavily and wondered why this place was as hot as hell. He understood he was a big fellow but this wasn’t just his own body at work.

“Christ, is it me or is it hot?”

“Generator’s f*ckin’ up all the heating system, some rooms got the Hell setting, others got the Arctic setting,” yelled the fat cook.

“I would say you are hot because you prefer to the style of Viking beard, but even I am in here.” MacMurphy gave a laugh and stood up.

“I’m gonna see if I can try and get this generator working before dinner.” He said as he stood up.

“Phelps is up there bashing the thing with a wrench occasionally and keeping an eye out for communications, go see what he knows.”

“I’ll do that,” he said walking away, “I like my steaks medium rare!” he yelled back.

“You don’t get this generator up we’re all eating them blue,” yelled back the fat cook, erupting the remnants of the Cafeteria to sni**er and laugh as MacMurphy left. As he stepped outside he began to weigh up the logical side of the generator. The lights in the common room, hallways, cafeteria, and bunks were working fine but Dr. Copper and Janet were probably freezing their asses off in the Medical Bay.

MacMurphy walked down to the common room where the noise that filled the eerie spaces of the hallway came from. A small amount of people were drinking and laughing, some were playing chess while others simply sat and read their books. A lone copy of a book entitled ‘Who Goes There?’ was placed on a side table with a bookmark sticking in it. MacMurphy ignored it and headed through to the supply room, passing up bottles of Scotch and offers of chess.

The metallic clang of the supply door rang across the room. The room was large and filled with shelves upon shelves of equipment and supplies. Outpost 32 had enough amenities and food to last four seasons –even though MacMurphy prayed to god whatever expeditions the team were leading wouldn’t lead them to a proposal of habitation for that long- and that wasn’t counting the emergency supplies which would last another season. The room looked like a metallic library of bits and bobs, a frozen window that gave way to the roaring abyss of snow and hale outside was all else in the room.

“Come on you piece of sh*t!” grunted somebody up the small, fire-escape like stairs to MacMurphy’s right. He shot up them and poked his head past the railing. The second room was exceptionally smaller, a massive console was in front of the platform window that scanned out to the Antarctic Desert while close to a barricaded door covered in askew metallic shelves there lay a generator, dead, and next to it was a young lad of about twenty two; a wrench firmly grasped in his oily hands. The wrench was raised into the air and came crashing down with a metallic thud onto the generator. A metallic echo rang out but no sound of life followed from the hub.

“Easy there, kid” said MacMurphy climbing up the remainder of the stairs, “If you beat it too much then you might end up freezing the rest of this place over.”

Phelps shot back from the generator and wiped oil from his forehead. “This f*cking thing’s pushing my patience, Mac!”

“Step back, let me have a look at this,” he replied lightly pushing a heated Phelps out of the way. He scanned down deep into the chasms of metallic wiring and mechanical shapes. Mac was just the chopper pilot, but he also had a knack for finding a flaw in something as simple as a generator. He remembered on the way in when Nikolai had handed him the generator’s manual.

“What’s the problem?”

“Hard to say,” strained Mac, his hands deep inside the control panel now. One false move and he’d be cooked hotter than the steaks below. Inside the generator was a barrage of wiring. The fuel tank one the side was full so that wasn’t the problem. “If we’ve got electricity running through some of these places,” said Mac, his hands continued to fiddle around to get a better view, “then I’m sure we’re looking at a faulty alternator piece.”

“You know this?”

“No, but we’ll find out.”

His hands moved further around and then the box was visible. “Yeah, look at it,” Mac tapped the box that was lightly whirring and was smoking heavily.

“It’s on it’s last legs."

“Well what do we do?” asked Phelps, handing Mac the wrench.

“Go get Nikolai; I need his opinion on this. He’ll know where to get a spare part.”

MacMurphy Location: Second Floor Communications and Generator Room.
Phelps Location: Second Floor Communications and Generator Room.


(+1 ACTION POINT.)

AceRay
  • AceRay

    In my restless dreams, I see that town...

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  • Joined: 05 Oct 2010

#15

Posted 13 February 2013 - 01:52 AM Edited by AceRay, 13 February 2013 - 01:55 AM.

You guys do know that this thread is open right. You can, you know, post your stories and such

Or maybe... nobody cares about Outpost 32 cryani.gif

Lars looked to the window, his face wrinkling and bending as his fears increased. The sound had created an instant riff between the pair and Lars was hostile and angry in his movements.

“What on earth was that?” He leapt from his seat and stared into the wilderness of the night, carefully surveying the landscape.

Laguna stayed in his seat and wondered to himself. He too was suspicious of the night and the darkness that thrived in its shadows. The eerily screeching was the same sound that shook him from his bed earlier. Still, he played his cards close to his chest and eyed his companion questionably. Something wasn’t right about him, thought Laguna. He had barely known him well for a few minutes. In fact, the only person on that damned base that he even remotely trusted was Mac and even he didn’t know his darkest secrets of his violent and dark past.

“I don’t think it was anything important.”

“What do you think it could have been?”

“We have to go out there, I know I heard something! Something blood curdling and terrible.”

Nah , I don’t want to waste action points going on a wild goose chase,” Laguna shot back. Lars gave him a glare before pacing the room. He hadn’t known the mysterious man very long but he had seen he certainly had an edge to him that was dangerous yet admirable at the same time. “Besides, the weather is blocked up, you know that. It’s suicide to go out there.”

“I don’t like it, I’m going to round up a few of the boys and see if they heard it,” Lars zipped up his coat and hurried outside and once again, Laguna was left on his own. He liked the quietness. Slowly, he pulled out a comb and spun it slowly around his fingers, looking deep into the night through the window.

Laguna Location: Bunks.
Lars Location: Outside.


That is over 300 words btw, it just looks short.

Also, where is the map of the second floor?




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