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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 12, 2012 17:14:37 GMT -5
"The planet of Gytherio is on high alert, the PDF asks everyone to stay in their homes. This is now a natural disaster area, Chimera and armoured fist squads will be delivering basic living essentials to all habitation neighborhoods every twenty-four hours." The once proud and often smug news reporter began, reading the pict word prompter in front of him. A voice in the distance caught his eye, forcing him to place down his notes on the elaborate desk and cant his head. "Cut to commercial!" Was the final voice heard seeping from somewhere off screen before the instance of a local fizzy drink advertisement began to play. Teenagers running down the sides of a beach having the time of their lives, the ad a sweet irony of the planets current condition. One of which the government of Gytherio was unprepared for. What had they done to displease the Emperor? Their trading shipments where higher than what their tithe demanded, they had erected several mighty cathedrals in his name, crime rates were constantly on the decline and sermon attendance was higher than ever. "Are .... are we on?" The reporter weakly questioned, his tie no longer straight and his hair an apparent mess. "I have been informed that the astropathic personal are dead, we are stranded and unable to call for extraplanetary aid. The government has resorted to sending short ranged vox communication, we can only pray that someone finds us. For the Emperor and Imperium." * * * * * They say each planetary habitation block tells a story, habitation block zero-six-two-five is of no exception. A once quiet mining barracks, equip to comfortably house the industrial workers. From the outside it looks no different then the traditional two story STC apartment blocks beside it. It had been 60 years since those meteors fell, 60 long years of earthquakes and disappearances. It wasn't long until the residents of zero-six-two-five became victims of these disturbances. Each night a power outage would disable the buildings security cameras and one of the residents would be claimed. Some by knives, others to what would seem to be animistic talons. Their pray was marked, symbols dotted out in their own blood. A curled xeno, what one of the exveterans of the guard had informed the residents that it was in fact a Tyranid ripper and that he had seen this all before. "One of you, it can be any of you." His final reported words as he was found in his bed this morning, the same symbol carved across his chest. And with this, the buildings manager had, had enough. Pressing in the intercoms activation rune and calling everybody to the central lounge. * * * * * The lounge itself was rather roomy, a few sofas, a rather large flat screen pict viewer, decorative carpet and blinds, you name it. Enough for the remaining tenants to sit or stand at their leisure. The manager stood, within the center of the room he never took the old guardsmen Stephan as a liar and seeing as someone just killed him the man would gladly like to see them pay. * * * * * Day One has begun. I require 4 votes in order to lynch someone this turn. Day One Ends - 16/11/2012 (My time +10GMT Brisbane Australia) Players: - Paimon - Wraelis - Dave, The Master of Muppets - Emptyhat - Adkenpachi - Rook - Shostak - Purple Dice - Soap
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Post by The Hawk! on Nov 12, 2012 18:29:42 GMT -5
Okay, does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on here!? I mean, I was dragged here basically! You better have a damn good reason, or I'm going to kick seven shades out of you sir. *Dave gives an angry glare at the Manager*. And whats with the Increased PDF presence around! You have some answers to spill... Sir. *Dave backs off slowly, coughs to clear his throat and loosens his collar, before taking a deep breath* I want some answers now.... and you will give them to me, before I start cracking skulls!
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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 12, 2012 18:49:01 GMT -5
Turning on the spot, the local apartment blocks manager clearly infuriated by the sudden outburst. Reaching his hands behind his back and into the top of his trousers, fingers grasping at the grip of a concealed auto pistol. "You better take two steps back and came the frak down."
The manager warned raising the autopistol and aiming it to the mans temple. "They killed my friend! One of you killed my friend!" He yelled, waving the pistol across everyone as they entered the room.
"He told me! He frakken told me, Genestealers, it's the Nids, he knew and they killed him for it!" His emotions running wild, the mere mention of Tyranids meant certain death for a world. Gritting and grinding his teeth, something inside him snapped and his hands grasped at his cheeks and covered his eyes.
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Post by Wraelis on Nov 12, 2012 19:02:09 GMT -5
"Oh, for throne's sake! Put the gun down!" yelled a newcomer. The man's frame seemed to take up most of the doorway he was standing in. As he stepped into the room they could see an angry pair of eyes glaring from the dirty, matted black hair which hung on either side of his face. He walked with a limp and used the haft of an old mining pick as a makeshift cane. "Could do with a bit less noise in here," he said, scowling at the other men in the room.
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Post by The Hawk! on Nov 12, 2012 19:23:26 GMT -5
Well what does this have to do with us! As you said, these are bugs we're dealing with! Get up off the floor you fool. Right... My Father was a Guard Sergeant and he faught in one of the Tyranic wars.... He killed himself 3 Years after her returned from cryo. I have just as much reason to hate these frickin things as you. Anyway, I've said my part... If anyone has anything more to add, I suggest you do it now, otherwise, we have to make a plan to route out this thing, or things, otherwise we're all in a world of nuts. *Dave picked up a Pic Axe and grasped it tightly in both Hands and turned to the other's* What do you guys have to say?
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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 12, 2012 19:37:23 GMT -5
"Throne please......" the manager whispered underneath his breath, "not them, not them ........ Emperor, save us." His fingers tensing on the weapons grip, the cold metal stinging his cheek. Sighing softly he grafted enough courage to lower the hands covering his face.
"You're right, I'm sorry." The manager admitted, letting his hands fall and dangle against his sides. "There will be a PDF delivery tomorrow, enough food to last us a couple more days and perhaps we could ask the soldiers whats going on. All I know is that they, ... they killed Stephan. I found him in his bed this morning, the same markings that were found on the other bodies."
Sighing and wiping his eye with one hand. He sat upon one of the nearby sofas, placing the pistol in his lap and just looking to the floor. "The quakes, they're getting worse."
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Post by emptyhat on Nov 12, 2012 20:24:52 GMT -5
“God Emperor, God Emperor, we’re stuck in here. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Have you ever chased a clakroach around your room. They always get away if you go to them... got to... got to be clever, lure them in then stab stab stab.”
Empty rocked backwards and forwards in his seat dishevelled as ever eyes darting about the room. His hands kept reaching into his coat pocket as he fiddled with what was probably a small concealed knife.
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Post by Rook on Nov 12, 2012 20:49:08 GMT -5
Rook walks calmly into the room. Dressed in a trench coat that conceals most of his hard worked frame. He looks everyone over with a friendly smile.
"How about we try to be civil? I've lived here all my life and I'd rather not have this place trashed because people can't act accordingly. My name is Rook. I'm here to help. Anyone in charge here?"
Rook looks the others over awaiting a response.
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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 12, 2012 21:00:46 GMT -5
Turning his head to the man who called himself Rook, the manager cleared his throat before replying. "I ...., I guess I am, I summoned you all here."
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Post by Rook on Nov 12, 2012 21:15:01 GMT -5
"OK Sir, tell me how I can help".
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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 12, 2012 21:39:56 GMT -5
"Someone isn't who they say they are and don't say its someone from the outside. I lock those doors every night and I am the only one with the access to unlock them. Warp, even in the event of those power outages thanks to the tremors, the doors dead lock." The manager stated as a matter of fact.
"The names Jovinus, that's Jo'vin'us. You all should know me, you pay your weekly rent. Now you need me to open those doors and I am the only one with a gun. So you are all going to decide between yourselves and I am going to put a round in the fokkers head."
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Post by Wraelis on Nov 12, 2012 21:43:48 GMT -5
The man with the cane looked over from the bench he had sat down on, eyeing Rook. With an effort he brought himself back to his feet, straightening the old, worn, soot stained mining foreman uniform.
"First sensible thing I've heard from anyone all day," he growled. "This is our planet and Emperor damn us if we don't make a fight of it."
"Name's Wraelis," he added, almost as an afterthought.
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Post by Paimon on Nov 13, 2012 1:23:12 GMT -5
A small voice pipes up from a figure in the corner of the room, "It's nice to see everyone competing to be more strongly anti-zeno than the rest of us. Frankly the twitchy guy with his hands in his pockets makes me a bit nervous, as does the idea of everyone clutching weapons. The landlord is the only person in the room that I trust right now, seeing as he would have no reason to put us all on alert if he were corrupted. I think that if everyone who isn't the guy with the gun could set their weapons down, we will be able to talk much more calmly than otherwise."
As a show of good faith, the woman withdraws a large knife from under her coat and places it on the ground in front of her. "You can call me Paimon."
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Post by Soap on Nov 13, 2012 1:58:49 GMT -5
Soap was one of the last to enter the room, still in work clothing, and eating a hastily made sandwich. "Sorry I'm late here" he said after swallowing a mouth full. "Just got to my apartment and the alarm went off, had to grab something to eat I was starving!" Sweat was visible on his forehead, and he was slightly out of breath. He took a look at Paimons knife on the floor. "Erm, what exactly is going on here?...."
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Post by Adkenpachi on Nov 13, 2012 5:40:04 GMT -5
*A large man in an old suit, older than him stands in the corner glaring at the arguments breaking out in the room, he keeps quiet until the tension dies down a little*
"LISTEN, your all squabbling like childeren here. Pai...moon? You say you trust our landlord? He said himself he locks the doors each night, likely to keep us trapped here! What im saying is, dont trust anyone! You all have so much hatred, it could easily be all of you... Oh and if you dont know my name, you dont need to so leave me out of your petty squabbling."
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Post by Soap on Nov 13, 2012 8:57:27 GMT -5
Finishing his sandwich, Soap looked around the room. "so, let me get this right. Someone here is a killer, and you think its a good idea to lock us in here?? That's crazy! Talk about making easy targets!" Pulling a cloth from his pocket, he rubbed the sweat from his face. "The question I put to you all is who has weapons? Nobody should be carrying unless they are in a position too! Any PDF here? Guard? No? ? Then no one should be carrying! So if you are, from where I stand, your under suspicion as far as I'm concerned!"
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Post by Paimon on Nov 13, 2012 15:39:31 GMT -5
"There are people dieing nightly. It would be more suspicious for someone not to be carrying something to defend them self than to be armed. Moreover, we have the opportunity now to find the person/thing that has been killing everyone, and then we can have the guy with the gun shoot the person that everyone thinks is most guilty. It's the obvious best method without anything in the way of evidence.
"That said, we probably don't want to have a bunch of armed people accusing each other of being murderous zenos, which is why I ask that those of you who have wisely armed yourself for personal defense, lay down your arms so that we can defend ourselves collectively."
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Post by Wraelis on Nov 13, 2012 15:52:25 GMT -5
"I'm not exactly at ease about this, but I suppose a bunch of twitchy people will more likely shoot one of their own at a time like this," Wraelis said. He reached into one of the many pockets which festooned his uniform and pulled out an ancient looking auto pistol. His gnarled hands pulled out the clip and tossed the gun and magazine onto the table with a clatter. "In the spirit of cooperation then."
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Post by Soap on Nov 13, 2012 16:10:59 GMT -5
"We'll if you put things like that, maybe I should give up this". Reaching round his back he unclipped a fastener on his belt and produced a 4 long length of metal. "Not exactly a weapon, its a multi tool. got it for work... been pretty handy too, you got your screwdriver, spirit level, and a knife to name a few tricks it has. Knife couldn't cut butter though. Yeah, that's been pretty handy in the past!"
The metal tool landed with a thud next to the auto pistol wraelis had just surrended. "So, do we actually have a plan? I feel very uneasy here".
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Post by Paimon on Nov 13, 2012 16:36:47 GMT -5
"I think that for at least a few hours we should just talk. No accusations, no finger pointing. Each person should pay close attention to what everyone else does and says. During this time each of us should compose a list of those people whom we think it most likely to least likely to be infected or corrupted or what ever it is that these things do to people. At a predetermined time, everyone reveals their list, with or without justification. We can use the lists to create a weighted average level of suspicion.
After a brief discussion and a chance to revise lists based on other people's explanations for their thoughts, we submit the most suspicious person for justice at the hands of our landlord, who again, had nothing to gain from gathering us together like this if he were the one doing the killing."
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Post by emptyhat on Nov 13, 2012 17:30:36 GMT -5
empty rocked a little more and let out an awkward laugh “haha, unless he wanted to shoot us all now, haha, haha.”
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Post by Adkenpachi on Nov 13, 2012 17:35:03 GMT -5
The one in the corner is right *points at paimon* we must discuss, i for one would like to know how long you've all lived here and what you know about whats going on with this damned planet?
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Post by Soap on Nov 13, 2012 17:54:15 GMT -5
"Well iv lived here for about..erm... must be a good forty years! I grew up here, although iv worked since I was thirteen when I finished school. I work at the ore mines. I drive the large ore movers in and out of the mines. Fifteen hours a day, one day off a year - emperors day. So, that's how I can explain that people here don't know me, all my time working! although I recognise some faces from passing".
He give a shrug. "That's my life, chapter and verse. And it's been a long day and iv got to do it all again tomorrow so I would like some sleep, unless you need me for anything else?".
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Post by Lord General Armstrong on Nov 13, 2012 18:06:52 GMT -5
The manager peaked up, looking across his once favored tenants. "Does no one watch the news? Horus," he spat "the Astropatic personal are dead! That means we're stranded, alone in the universe. Stephan said it himself, it's the Nids. Emperor save us."
He stepped forward, looking at the discarded weapons, improvised or otherwise. Crouching to the floor, picking them up and cradling them with both hands. "Anyone else?" He questioned firmly, his once calm and stern voice steadily returning to him as he caught himself.
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Post by Rook on Nov 13, 2012 22:57:12 GMT -5
"OK, so we have a miner anyone else care to give his or her occupation?"
Rook eyed the collected selection of weapons.
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