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Endless Chambers - Roleplay Thread

Started by Narric, December 21, 2012, 01:24:58 PM

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Narric

You find yourself in a white, markless room, with one door. There is a small crate in the opposite corner. Your try to think of who you are, or should you say, who you were. Everything else is too painful to think about. You hear a noise beyond the walls. Like someone else is waking up. As you stand, you fix memories of who you are into your mind.

You are

The Man They Call Jayne

James shook his head, he felt a little groggy. Drugged? By who and for what purpose. He checked himself over and found no injuries of note other than some minor bruising. What the hell had happened? He examined the room, there was nothing but a crate in one corner. His training, honed to the point of instinct kicked in. He examined the walls, the light sources, everything, but everything seemed tamper proof.

Hmmm. Cautiously he approached the crate. Could be explosives. Or a toxin of some kind? No, probably not. If they wanted him dead they would have done that when they took him in the first place. Or they would have just killed him in his home. The crate was throughly examined. If it didnt contain anything that could be used as a weapon, maybe there was a tool that he could use to dismantle it to make a weapon of his own. Or at least use the lid as a makeshift shield. It wouldnt stop a bullet, but it might deflect a baton or knife.

Kneeling carefully behind the crate, he slowly and carefully open the lid, using it as protection. Any trap inside would simply lash out at empty air.
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Narric

As the lid began to open, the chest hissed as pressurized air escaped. Despite its wooden exterior, the inside was white, smooth metal. James looked over the lid to the contents. He was surprised to see an old .32 calibre Rifle, and ammunition, alongside a worn military uniform jacket, an aged medal, and a Dictaphone.

Attached to the underside of the lid, was a torn piece of paper with a message...

"You'll need these. Its all I could grab befo....."

Cutting the sentence, the tear raised more questions than it answered. Who had helped him, and why, and what had happened for this mysterious aid to have been rushed?

The Man They Call Jayne

Checking the box for any traps that may yet go off, he carefully extracted the jacket. It looked familiar, standard issue by the look of it with plenty of pockets. He put it on and found it to be a good fit, if a little long in the sleeve. The rifle was in good order and the sights seemed to be well aligned. He worked the bolt and found it smooth. Plenty of ammunition aswell, for a man with his skill set at least.

Next the medal. He didnt recognise it right now. But it may have significance when more of his memory returned.

He also decided to take the lid of the crate anyway, bracing himself he wrenched the lid back and forth until the hinges gave out. It was a little unweildy, but the handle on the lid made an able handgrip. He wasnt sure how well it would serve in its roll, but he would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. It would also be able to serve as a trough to hold rainwater, as the sides of the lid were curved to a depth of about 3 inches.

It would impede his use of the rifle though, trying to hold both at the same time. He was more than capable of resting it on his arm and firing it well enough over short distances however. Anything more than 15 meters away might present a problem. He decided to deal with that when he came to it though. If he dropped the shield and killed the target, he could pick it up again. If he was killed, he wouldnt needed. He took that as good enough logic for now.

Finally he pressed the play button on the dictaphone to see if there was a message for him on it.
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Mabbz

Catherine woke up slowly as she realized that she was lying on a hard, cold surface. She was finding it hard to think straight, which was probably a good thing as it stopped her from panicking. Eventually she the facts got through to her brain, and she worked out that she was in a strange place with no idea how she had gotten there. All she had for company was a single crate. With little else to do, she opened it.

Narric

The pressurized crate opened with a hiss. Inside the elongated crate was a strange assortment of items. Before looking to the item,s Catherine looked at the underside of the lid. A sticky note read.

"Don't Panic!"

A little confused by the strange Douglas Adams quote, she returned her attention to the crate's contents. The first item that caught her eye was the .45 calibre Pistol nestled on top. Six magazines filled, with a seventh loaded. She pushed it to the side, and lifted out a pair of gloves, examining the detailed finish of the leather. Under the gloves a strange hand-held device sat. An icon that looked similar to an envelope flashed on the LCD screen. The final item was a Rattan Cane, the seemingly sole reason for the stretched crate.

She sat herself upright, thinking about what to do next.

Ravager Zero

Daniel Teran woke violently, thrashing side to side. His head felt like he had been on a week-long bender. Something seemed wrong, out of place. The room was too small, the light too bright. The fog lifted from his mind, and he found he could remember
Rav's Awesome Card Counter: +2

Quote from: Kane
...and whipped cream, a bottle of baileys, seven pairs of non-matching shoes, a combine harvester, a box of matches, and three indie rock bands drunk off their skull is technically acceptable on private property.

Mabbz

More than a little confused, Catherine gingerly picked up the gun and pocketed it along with all the ammo. She put on the gloves and examined the device. She guessed there was a message on it and tried to figure out how to read it.

Narric

The lid to Daniel's crate opened mechanically and slowly. Hot steam hissed out the rim, seemingly for mysterious effect. As the steam cleared, Daniel looked in.

A red crowbar sat proudly on top of a set of Navy Blue Overalls. Lifting them out and putting the items to one side, revealed a scoped Magnum. Next to it was a mall box, which held fithteen spare bullets, and another six were already chambered. A cardboard tube sat next to the gun. white stoppers on either end. Lastly, a PDA, a birght green message plastered across the screen.

"1: new message waiting"

As Daniel looked over the crates contents again, he saw an envelope sellotaped to the lid. He gently opened the envelope, to find a short message inside.

"Rise up, and smell the ashes
but remember which bridge was your own.
Others feel the same, but all are alone."

The Man They Call Jayne

James pent more time examining the room. It contained nothing that appeard to be of any use at all other than the crate and its contents.

There was a single door that blended well with the wall. There didnt seem to be an opening mechanism that he could recognise. He felt his way carefully around the edge, looking for some kind of pressure switch that was hidden from plain sight. He wasn't sure if he was going tobe released, but he damn well wasn't going to wait for it to happen on his captors terms.
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Ravager Zero

Daniel had never been great with poetry, but he pocketed the note and the envelope just in case. Next he put on the overalls
Rav's Awesome Card Counter: +2

Quote from: Kane
...and whipped cream, a bottle of baileys, seven pairs of non-matching shoes, a combine harvester, a box of matches, and three indie rock bands drunk off their skull is technically acceptable on private property.

Narric

rolls

James checked every seem, all around the door. As he scanned up the apparent door frame, reaching the top, he luckily found a small finger sized hole. Pushing his finger in, he tried to pull at the hole. Unfortunately, it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tried to pull it.




Daniel looked over every inch of the crate. He realized the obvious that it was a pressurized capsule, so the contents would not have been too greatly affected by time. The PDA would obviously lost battery power, but the rest would've have been preserved.
After carefully examining the crate, he found a small lever on the underside. The entire bottom section became loose from the top, with the side slipping away, still attach the to lid.
A small sphere was connected to a series of tubes, what loked like a heating element, and finally a release valve. The small sphere was see through, and was clearly empty. The entire mechanism seems to have been welded together, save for the release valves.

LinnScarlett

Vallerie woke with a start from her unpleasant dreams to find herself in a room she had most definitely not fallen asleep in. Her head felt heavy, fuzzy. Where had she been when she'd fallen asleep? How long ago was that? She frowned deeply, a small crease wrinkling her nose. She couldn't remember much of anything, now that she tried. My memory is gone! Closing her eyes she forced herself to stay calm. Vallerie, your name is Vallerie, she thought. She remembered that much. Slowly shards of memories and knowledge came back to her, but they were disjointed and contextless, like pictures from a past that wasn't her own.

Rubbing her head she opened her eyes again and looked at the room around her. It was no use trying to force anything out of her poor brain now, better focus on something more immediately. Like how to get the hell out of here. The empty, featureless room didn't look like anything she could even begin to pretend she might have found her way in by some natural, logical means - not even the holding cell in a mental institution, after all, the walls were not padded. That left only one other option...

It was only then that she noticed the crate in the far corner. Why was that here? She got up and approached it carefully, not sure what to think of it. She got down on her haunches beside it, and opened it at arm's length with the lid towards her. She'd been on the receiving end of too many 'jokes' to ever again open anything facing her.
I need more time to do the Emperor's work!

You can read my stuff on 2S's Fluff and Stories.

Or, you can come visit my author page on Archive of Our Own. WARNING: NC-17

Ravager Zero

Looking at the release valve, Daniel applied a little elbow grease and engineering know how. Within a minute or two he had the thing free, and placed it in a spare pocket. Along with the revolver he had overlooked earlier. A total of twenty-one rounds was not a lot, but he knew from lots of TV shows that it often only took one bullet to kill someone anyway. Especially the size these bullets appeared to be. Now he really wanted to know what was in the cardboard tube. Plans, a blueprint, posters
Rav's Awesome Card Counter: +2

Quote from: Kane
...and whipped cream, a bottle of baileys, seven pairs of non-matching shoes, a combine harvester, a box of matches, and three indie rock bands drunk off their skull is technically acceptable on private property.

The Man They Call Jayne

Annoyed at the false hope provided by the fingerhole, James decided to resort to slightly less cerebral measures. Standing opposite the door he placed his rifle and shield on the ground, braced himself and sprinted at the door as hard as he could, before slamming into it with his shoulder and all his weight behind it.

He was not enjoying being locked in here, and maybe if anyone heard the banging and were also trapped, they might be able to call to him, or if it was his captors, they could be encouraged to open the damn cell. The fact that he had been supplied with weapons, seemingly by agents unknown implied that he captors had not been the one providing them, and maybe didnt even know he had it.
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