only iStoleYurVamps is allowed to post in this thread
There were stories and rumours, that had been circulating for quite some time, of an old spaceship that lay in the heart of the Four Fronds forest. It was supposed to be so old that the military had let it be, rather than attempting to haul it back to one of their bases for repairs, when it had been first discovered. Of course, the stories went, trolls had swarmed all over it as soon as the military had left, trying to scavenge some parts of value, but all had left quickly, leaving it intact. And there was only one explanation for that. Ghosts. Yes! Ghosts!! Trolls telling the story would jump at this question, rolling their eyes creepily and flailing their hands to convey just how truly terrifying this fact was. The entire crew, headless, with spikes sticking up from their necks, hanging in rows from the ceiling! A monstrous fleshy creature, an alien brought back from another planet, with the limp bodies of the crew members hanging from its mouth! Hundreds of small fuzzy critters that knew no fear, back from beyond the grave to smother you in hugs until you died!
While the stories varied, and some fell apart entirely at this point, those who were less likely to believe in the supernatural and more inclined to the history books would agree that there was indeed a wreck of a ship that had crashed millennia ago, somewhere in the forest. Reports pointed to it being a small, rather insignificant air-to-sea craft, and that the army had been busy at the time, conquering a small string of planets some thirty five million light years away. And so it had slipped through the cracks and been left to be claimed by the forest's encroaching foliage. Of course, from a military point of view, the thing was worthless. Outdated and rusting technology, that was most likely to explode when switched on. But nevertheless, historians would insist, a fascinating study on more primitive and rudimentary sea and space vessels, and most likely a treasure trove of historical documents and crew logs, for any troll curious enough to enter the forest in search of the crumbling spacecraft.
iStoleYurVamps
reply can be one single solo or divided up, however you like. please only post up until the point where she enters the ship, and you will be given another prompt by the mule. for any questions please pm amicableAggressor. thanks!
Posted: Sat Mar 15, 2014 11:15 am
Atiqua. Her name wasn't famous, nor, was she some troll kid with connections. She was fairly uncommon, unknown and she liked it that way. Sure, she had a few friends, contacts, tools and trade offs, but the less attention you drew from your enemies the better. Even if they were no good pirates like herself, just in a different area but not really and by all rights that treasure should have been her's and he'd been a jerk and she owed him a good stabbing or something. Irrelevant. She had other matters to attend to.
Like doing her yearly dig for leads on possible mega loot finds and treasures untold in troves. One story that came yearly was always about the old ship in the forest. Ghosts and spooks, terrors and torments. A place that no troll dared to tread. She'd put it off for years, (two since she'd only known of it that long), saying how if there was an alien, she wanted some specs, some more deets before she went in on her two feet. Ghosts didn't spook her so much as the idea that she was stealing from the monarchy. Granted, it was hella old but still. Still. You didn't mess with the purple royals for a reason. That reason often being death.
Still. Treasure. Her lust for treasure and possible salvage parts had the little wannabe pirate heading out, finally feeling ready and able to tackle this particular mission. She had her backpack of gear, Seadad was on a leash so as to not float off or bond into anything and then just sit idle like a lump. And if worst came to worst she could maybe stab whatever might attack her. With a screwdriver. It was mostly for getting things but when in need-
Hours. And Hours. And maybe more hours but not yet days because the damn sun hadn't come out- she spent wandering. And flying-(but that was mostly seadad). Still the tiny troll had all but given up hope- until looking over the tops of trees in the distant skyline, she spotted on particular looking branch. Broken, it's jagged edge worn but visibly damaged. It stood alone. Worth investigating, she had her lusus fly closer to get a look and went dumb at the discovery. A real ship. A real 'sunken' ship. Maybe haunted. Maybe filled with loot.
She was quickly nudging seadad down to the forest floor so she could try to find a way in and once she did find an opening conveniently her size- Any troll could bet their hot buns she was gonna explore the hell out of that place.
The inside of the ship was pitch black for a moment, before the wiggling body of the troll set off the motion sensors. The lights that flicked on were grainy and weak, but it seemed as though troll technology, whatever its flaws were, was built to last. Most of the ship was still holding together, most likely because of a lack of disturbance more than anything else. There was however, a small flurry of activity as various small and furry creatures scattered and ran for safety. 'Troll' was clearly not a welcome smell to anything that was smart enough to live past the first couple of generations.
A small control panel, image shaking and glitching with age, sent a dim red light over the corridor with its warning message. Critical hull breaches, systems out of order, anything that can go wrong with this ship clearly has, through its slow but inevitable decay, or whatever it was that brought it down in the first place. However, the ship's map that slowly rotates on the screen seems to show that, while some parts of the ship are obliterated, a few areas remain relatively intact. The control deck, far down at the front of the ship, still seems accessible. So do the warmblood crew quarters, and the captain's living block.
=>Warmblood Quarters
These blocks are a mess. More than just that, they're destroyed. While the rest of the ship seems to have slowly deteriorated over time, this place started out wrecked. Recuperacoons are smashed, so are monitors, deep scars and pockets in the walls show the remains of weapons being used. The floor is strewn with a thick layer of dust and forest debris, along with animal droppings and a few corpses of various small critters, but under that there might remain some clues to what happened here, if anytroll is so curious to do so.
=>Search the Room
You begin to search:
Between the grisly muck on the ground, and the battered remains of the ship, not much is familiar within the Warmblood Quarters. You make your way through the hall and into the smaller bunk areas, following the trail of carnage. At the origin of whatever destroyed this part of the ship is a simple tiered recuperacoon set-up. An impressive lance has been shoved through the bottom recuperacoon, which spilled all of its gooey soporific contents onto the ground-- the result of which has created a dark, moldy stain on the floor largely covered by pretty little flowers from the forest floor. Within the recuperacoon is a corpse. Mummified by the congealed sopor slime, the deceased troll appears to not have suffered much. A matching hole in his or her chest matches the blow from the outside. The insides of the recuperacoon are almost too pungent to bear -- especially when oxygenated - and even though the years-old wreck has been left to stagnate, the scent of death is overwhelming. A quick retreat yields questions to the identity of this troll. Unfortunately, the contents of the daystand next to the bunk have been spilt, but you manage to salvage a couple of items of interest.
A handheld scanning unit, A Trollsonal Digital Assistant, is relatively intact nearby and appears to have belonged to the dead troll. An ID card, #2031, is fitted into the back of the TDA, and contains a minute memory grub that may come in handy. It's actually rather surprising that so long ago trolls were using these memory grubs. Whatever happened to floppy grubs?
OR If you have already been to the Captain's Living Block:
The ID information on this card matches perfectly with one of the numbers on the Captain's ID list. You plug the number into the TDA and the screen pops angrily. On the second go, progress is made. Half of the screen fills with the face of an orangeblood - perhaps the one in the recuperacoon, if you could stand to take another look. But unfortunately, the TDA poops out shortly after. The cut off name burned into the display slowly fades to gray: "...tra Polrol"
OR If you have already been to the Control Deck:
You continue your search, and come across files spread across the floor. Spatters and spills cover almost all of them, and others seem to be completely destroyed by blasts of flame and plasma. The crime scene, even for papers, is disturbing. One of the files is a familiar number: Prime directive concerning Cargo 444. It's a work order concerning the transfer of a troll of interest. The lowblood crew of the ship was stationed to keep Cargo 444 secure.
if you have been to both other rooms, open both other options.
=>Captain's Living Block
The door to this block is sealed shut, but a few pounds of energetic troll fists on the door sensor is enough for the old technology to give way. After the door violently whooshes open and closed a few times, it jams half open and the sensor goes dead in an explosion of sparks. Squeezing inside the room, it is surprisingly well-preserved, with no animals having made it past the door to take up habitation. The thing that is the most noticeable however, is the troll skeleton lying calmly in the large captain's chair. On the floor beside it lies a vintage sword ... gun hybrid, and in it's head, the bullet hole shows how this troll decided to end things. The weapon should be good to use though, barring any horrifying ghost-curses on it.
Apart from that little tableau, the room is immaculately neat and undisturbed. It should be relatively easy to poke around and see what else this place has to offer.
=>Search the Room
You begin to search:
The ration of garbage to interesting things in this room is much more encouraging than others. Though the old clothes and books dissolve when touched, there are dozens of interesting little knick-knacks and vintage devices to ponder over or pocket, if they look vintage enough. On the captain's desk there seems to be a ancient prototype of the modern husktop, that still boots up. Along the side of it are various slots for what look like memory grubs to be slotted in. There is nothing currently, and after it loads it simply sits with a blank screen, humming away quietly. A dusty, crumbling pad with what appears to be troll ID numbers is resting nearby. The writing is difficult to make out due to age, but you take note of the most prominent numbers circled on the page.
OR If you have already been to the Warmblood Quarters:
The husktop buzzed as the memory grub jabbed into the dusty slot. Immediately, a huge block of red text pops up, angrily glaring through the decrepit ship.
DIRECTIVE 2041: ORDER TO CULL.
Intelligence concerning troll ID #2031 concerns proof of attempted sabotage of The ACRID's prime directive. All lowblooded (Of red, orange, and yellow hue, with the inclusion of suspected traitors breaching cold yellow) crew members on The ACRID are hereby released from duty by punishment of culling, a measure ordered by Captain Lorala to prevent potential mutiny.
OR If you have already been to the Control Deck:
The second memory grub fits into the second slot of the husktop -- it requires turning over a few times before it will fit into the slot, being rather bent in the process of the crash. The result is immediate, however, and quickly two screens emerge. One is a simple document formatting suspicious activity aboard the ship -- potential sabotage of the mission due to tampering, with many foreign numbers and names that are nearly indiscernable. The other screen appears to be choppy security footage aboard the craft. A familiar orangeblood, very much alive, is skulking through the halls on inspection. The timestamp indicates an hour in which the orangeblood passes by, enters the cargo bay, and leaves significantly later. The light on the door flashes red in alarm before the orangeblood deactivates it, and leaves inconspicuously. This must have been the act in question. There's something funny about this video; it looks as though it may have been edited, albeit cleverly. A few replays later, though, everything begins to look suspicious.
if you have been to both other rooms, open both other options.
=>Control Deck
Doors hanging open, this part of the ship has been heavily reclaimed by nature. Plants grow thick around the wide central platform and down the steps to the lower levels. The roof has caved in, letting moonlight down into this part of the ship, illuminating it far better than the grainy, half-dead artificial ship lighting. While most of the terminals are empty and unlit, a few have ... occupants, and one or two still hum quietly, with screens lit up and ready for input. If you want, you can search around and see what there is to find. Maybe you can bring a few troll skulls home. You know. Just for laughs.
=>Search the Room
You begin to search:
The unforgiving terrain of the Control Deck makes navigation an adventure. A desiccated, skeletonized hand holding onto a hyperbrake within the ship's control room contrasts the relative silence of the room with an image of a violent end. It has been sheared at the wrist by falling metal - passage to the other side requires stepping upon the plate, and likely, the troll underneath. On the far side of the control room, overhung by metal arches and relatively unscathed, a few monitors glow. Their displays are a screenshot of the last moments of the ship's descent. The work stations on the left and right are lit up red -- signaling a loss of power in the extremities of the ship. The phrase SECURE CARGO alternates weakly on their displays. The middle station, however, flickers green. The stark words ABSCONDENCE POD EJECTED blaze, casting the room in an eerie chartreuse light. There is a memory grub still plugged into the station that you consider plopping in your pocket.
OR If you have already been to the Captain's Living Block:
Something familiar catches your eye. A faint etching can be seen under the dust and dirt that has collected on the manual touch screen for the middle-most station. It appears to be an ID number, identical to one found on the Captain's desk. The display flickers once as the details are entered into the screen, and opens up the huskhub of the user responsible for the green-lit station. ID 5011. Elerua Taunte. A hemotyped ID watermark sits in the corner of the screen -- a blueblood of middling command status. She looks on brazenly in her ID photo. The writhing pixels of the broken huskhub make the display very hard to read, and the machine nearly pants with effort. You should get what you need from here, and fast.
Do a quick search:
The husktop's main page has an obvious point of interest - a huge ship-wide alert section. The vitals of the ship failing, one by one. Emergency alarms, left untouched, clocked out in the many windows of notifications. Finally, you make it to an unfamiliar alert. A huge splash image across the screen: DIRECTIVE 2041. RESPOND IMMEDIATELY. There are no other words than this, curiously. Fortunately, the husktop hasn't given up juice yet. You can afford to make another search.
Dig deeper:
You probe into the files of Elerua Taunte. Through a series of encryptions, much of the security on the ship has been passed down through codes that you're unfamiliar with. One particular order that keeps popping up is CARGO 444. It seemed to be the prime directive of the ship, or at least a point of fascination for the troll. After a deep investigation, you finally hit personal logs. Talks of promotions are enclosed within. Loss of promotions - suspicions. Increasingly erratic attempts throughout the sweep to gain status within the ship have apparently left the unhinged Taunte out to dry. A high profile target was soon to be aboard the ship. Plans outlining a sabotage.
Going through the logs is like watching a storm build. There is only one more log remaining. It is small and short. It simply says, "Polrol knows."
OR If you have already been to the Warmblood Quarters:
Upon searching the manual screen of the station, you replace the memory grub with the one from the Warmblood Quarters. Immediately, an authorization error pops up -- you don't have security access to view the contents of this memory grub. However, after a moment, a scripted search feature emerges: ID #2301 matches found. The lucky break shows a collection of files within Taunte's huskhub. A security video is contained within one of the files. In it, a familiar orangeblood walks down a hall and enters the cargo bay momentarily. He returns a moment later and paces down the hall; later, the blueblood enters the same hallway. She taps keys on the cargo pad and slips inside. The exit the red light on the door pops, she takes off, and in a moment the orangeblood returns in a nervous hurry to check the light. He taps the same keys and the light turns off once more, and suspiciously looks down the hallway where the blueblood made her escape. The video goes on for quite a while, but after the orangeblood leaves the video is uneventful. This video doesn't appear to be edited.
if you have been to both other rooms, open both other options.
please only open spoilers in the order you want your characters to perform the actions available! When your troll has finished exploring all she wants, and finds all the ship's secrets she cares to investigate, she can leave, and has finished her growth rp!
iStoleYurVamps
Posted: Fri Jul 25, 2014 2:02 pm
The shock of light came with a high pitched scream from the teal, who was then joined by her lusus which then decided to blow bubbles... at everything. Which popped harmlessly all in the hall where she'd managed to get through. It was just light. Nothing to get her horns twisted over. Nor were the small bodies that fled the scene. Giving an appreciative pat to seadad, Atiqua walks down as seadad attempted to follow, but was forced to stop, debris proving too difficult for him to navigate without bumping into anything and everything.
Th red lights flickered and hurt her eyes but it was easy enough to see just exactly what was up. The control decked look like the best place to start. Figure why it crashed and where they kept the sweet loot.
==> Control Deck
As soon as she entered the room Atiqua frowned. So much for her plan. The place was more plant that ship in this place. At least it was easier to see. Walking towards the still functioning bits, her little grubby fingers twitched, not sure if it was such a good idea to push buttons. Especially given the uh, occupants. Avoiding as many corpses as possible, (tho she had to give props to one skull's sweet horns. They must have been pretty badass), the teal blood looked for any info she could- while the escape pod was odd she shrugged it off. Someone had brains at least. A memory grub still in the drive, she popped it out, pocketing it for future investigations. If she didn't find anything today, she might be able to return and get something else depending on the scrap.
==> Go investigate Captain's Living Block
With no info or loot to be found at the deck, the other likely place was the captain's digs. If they didn't have the deets, then they should have something. Maybe. Eitherway, clambering over plants and a dead guy, (sorry she didn't mean to step and break your bone arm dude), Atiqua backtracked, making her way to the captain's block.
And the door of 'I can't pick if I want to be open or closed'.
She let it do it's thing before squeezing past it. And then frowned. The captain had gone down with his ship. A tiny salute to the dead, she found the old captain's hat, setting it gingerly over the head, covering the wound that had taken their life. What a way to go. Granted kind of cowardly to take their own life, but, a captain went down with the ship. "You did good Captain." She muttered, looking around. "Good as ya could have done." Someday that might be her- going down with her ship. She shuddered at the thought.
The gun...sword thing was picked up, granted with a handkerchief but it was heavy. She left it for now. Most of everything else was to worn and old to salvage. Pity really. The place had been well walled off but oh well, things gotta give. It was interesting to see the working husktop. Nothing like what they had now. Old school they'd last. Now? One hit and it was forever dead. "Hope you don't mind cap." She said, as if they could hear her.
Plugging in the memory grub, the footage was... pretty telling. And looking back to the captain... Quite ready to move on she picked up the weapon "Just gonna borrow this. Ya know, the whole... mutiny sabotage thing." She hightailed it out of there. If things got edited and tampered with there might be traps still.
==> Pet Seadad.
A quick check up on her lusus, and Atiqua went back to her investigations.
With no other places to look, Atiqua made her way to the warmblood quarters. She doubted it would have a lot of loot, but eh, it was worth a shot. Plus there was something that stunk about the whole crash landing.
And stunk it did. The stench of death was hard, her eyes watering as she covered her nose and mouth best she could. The dead troll was nasty, and she wasn't even going to touch them. Rest in gross. At least the captain got to go with some dignity. This was just gross.
Still, the troll's stuff was interesting. A quick memory job, scan, and the bits began to fill in. An orange blood in a tampered video with the name of something-tra Polrol. #2031? Pocketing the memory grub, Atiqua almost missed the files, but they only added to the mystery. Cargo 444? Prime directives? Weird things. If anything from her time to the lowblood bin, she got another grub that might shed some light. Or make things more weird.
==> Captain's Living Block
"Hey, buddy, came back." She said, squeezing into the captain's area. At least it didn't stink. "Thanks for letting me borrow the thingy." She waved the gunblade best she could. "Just wanna look at a few more things-" Husktop booted, grub shoved in the angry red light made her scoot back. So the Prime Directive of the ACRID for the warmbloods was to keep cargo 444, sometroll secure? And when the orange was found to tamper, the whole crew got culled. "Well nice going dipshit." Atiqua muttered. At least she learned the captain's name. "Lorala. Thanks by the way." Nothing more to look for Atiqua just had one more little stop. Taking both the memory grubs with her, she figured she'd need them both. "Gonna keep this though." Long term borrowing. Thanks for the weapon. One captain to another.
==>Control Deck
First things first- the grub from the warmblood. They caused a culling, but why the whole crew? Grub plugged in, Atiqua almost started button mashing before the screen flickered. Some Elerua Taunte #5011. Okay then? The husktop looked to be ready to die but it was still coughing up the deets. Directive 2041. Didn't match that 444 one for the warm bloods. Made sense though. Still going, Cargo 444 did jump up. Now here was the meat. This was.
Wow.
Okay.
This blueblood was crazy. Personal logs were pretty ******** up. Polrol knows? Jesus ******** Polrol. You.. wowwwwwwwwww. "Aw man." Taking the last grub and moving to check that out- the puzzle looked like it was complete.
The blueblood was nuts. Going up, then going down. Basically in a big 'screw you' was going to ******** the whole ship over. Blame the one who caught on and would have blown her plans. The Polrol guy was dead, but that left two good questions. Who or what was cargo 444 and did Taunte escape?
Sighing, she grabbed the memorygrubs a final time. Maybe she could sell them for some extra cash. Sell the loaction of the ship- salvage some scrap metal.
The weapon she hadn't any idea how to use-
Climbing back to seadad it was nearly dawn. It was time to head home.
