S3VEN - IC

A flyer has been circulating around the Galactic criminal underworld. On it, it advertizes a challenge held by BuzKil Industries, the largest distributor of blades, saws, and sharp weapons of all types. The challenge: come to BuzKil and navigate a series of rooms specially designed for this occasion. At the end lies a great reward more valuable than anyone can imagine. The flyer also warns that only those who are strong enough to take on a charging Velu panther should sign up.

S3VEN. The number of mercinaries that were insane enough to take this challenge. The number of rooms they’ll have to survive through to claim an impressive reward. The number of ways they could get lacerated within the first five minutes.

S3VEN. It will test your adaptability, wit, and ability to survive against the odds. Pray you don’t disappoint me.


Reanimation sequence initiated

Stasis pods hissed as they detached from the wall. All seven of them opened, revealing the seven mercenaries that had signed up for this challenge: A Zeteron wore a jumpsuit with the number “1” on it, a Tlyarian took the second spot, a Ravis with three, a Sectrix with four, a Travidian with five, a small purple creature known as “Slurp” taking six, and an attractive looking Nephid taking the final spot. When the mercenaries had stepped out onto the floor, the pods closed and slid back behind the wall. The room they were in consisted of little more than a floor, four white walls, and a ceiling. In the center of the ceiling were two panels that could slide out, for some unknown purpose. On the far end, a wide door that led to the next room. It was bolted shut, with no way of opening it from the inside.


Alyn Drenic, the CEO of BuzKil and host of the challenge, had a perfect vantage point from which he could view everything the mercenaries did. Small cameras dotted the walls of every room they would go through, and there were, theoretically, no dead spots. Should anything happen, he could barricade all exits and send in teams of extermination troopers, who would deal with whatever the problem was, be it a mercenary, the equipment, or an escape. He smiled in his chair, and flicked on the holographic display.


In the room, a hologram appeared, displaying what looked like a wealthy businessman. He wore a pinstripe suit and black tie, and his face had no blemishes. He spoke in an accent, not heavy, but obvious.

“Welcome all to the BuzKil challenge course. You all have no idea what you have gotten yourself into by signing up for this. Not only have you ensured injuries to yourself and others,” pause for dramatic effect, “but you are about to be televised as a live, intergalactic spectacle.”

He motioned to a nearby assistant, who flicked a switch. The holoscreen shifted, showing a picture of the seven mercs, with an O’onthos reporter in the bottom right corner.

“As we can see here, the BuzKil Industries challenge is about to begin. You can see the seven mercenaries that have signed up for this challenge, backgrounds will be made available on ITVN.holo. Also visit our site to vote for who you believe is most likely to win this competition.”

The reporter rambled on, but the screen switched back to Drenic’s face.

“Before we begin, there are two rules you should know of. Number one: Do not harm your fellow mercenaries unless told otherwise. You may, however, interact with them however you desire. Number Two: If you die, you have failed the challenge.” He laughed slightly. “That’s it! This first room will be a classic arena fight. We have secured several specimens and robots for this use. There will be ten waves of enemies, increasing in difficulty. Your goal for this room is, at its simplest, to survive. Whoever uses the most ingenious means of surviving will receive a special advantage in Room 2.

“Before you enter the arena, you will need weapons.” Drenic motioned again, and his assistant flicked another switch. The two panels on the sides of the wall gave a hiss, and slowly slid out of place, revealing row upon row of every kind of weapon the mercenaries had ever seen or known. Melee daggers to assault rifles, gunblades to rocket launchers, everything was there.

“You have the chance to pick one weapon of your choice before proceeding into the arena. When you have made your choice, wait over by the large door. When you all are ready, the door will open, and you may enter the arena.” The hologram flickered off, leaving the mercs to choose their weaponry.

Alyn Drenic, unseen by the mercenaries, cackled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Let the games begin…

((Those who have signed up in the OOC thread may now bring their characters into this thread. And yes, I am allowing you to godmod any weapon you desire into this. Just don’t make it too powerful; no auto-reloading rocket launchers or anything of that equivalent.))

The Travidian stood up to the panels and browsed. he picked up two weapons, grabbing one of them quite quickly as to not let anyone quick take it before him. After pondering whether he should take a sniper rifle or a beam dagger, he dropped both to the panel decided to take a Terran Marksman's Carbine he just noticed.

"Hm. This same model saved my life at one point. I just really like this gun; it's lightweight, carries a lot of rounds in a cartage, never jammed on me, and I've trained with it. It won't win me ingenuity points, but it sure as hell's gonna keep me alive." He told one of the TV crew before stepping towards the smallest merc, wondering what it was since it never actually talked to him before during the brief meeting period.

Grendar walked over to the table of weapons, remembering why he had bothered to sign up for this in the first place. He casually looked over the array of weapons and picked up an energy sword, then thought things through better and exchanged it for a close-range plasma blaster. That way, he figured, he would be much more effective at close range as he preffered, but if for some reason he had to attack something from a distance he would at least be able to hit it. Then he walked over to the large door.

((His weapon is basically a plasma based shotgun))

Flank browsed the shelves with eager fanaticism. He just loved to collect guns, even if it was odd that a Ravis with a FLAK cannon mounted on his shoulder would ever need a weapon other than his own. Well, now he could tell people that he had found a way to need one.

Although I wish I had some shells for my cannon, thought Flank, I guess we're looking for ingenuity here.
He browsed over the shelves some more, until it became apparent to him that he had to make a decision between every one of the plethora of killing contraptions before him.
Robots, and lots of them. He thought, You want something rapid-fire.
Pah! Came his mental reply, A well built robot will just shake of the bullets, no matter how fast you shoot them. You need something explosive.

Flank's gaze, which resided in a robotic eye in his chest and the scope of his cannon, fell upon a rather modest-looking assault rifle with a curved blade underneath the barrel. He picked it up and checked the ammo in its clip: .92-VAC

Flank gaped at the coded name on the side of the bullet. These were vacuum bullets. While small, they were hollow. They warped space so that inside the bullet was actually a small expanse of space shrunk down into a round as small as a .92cm across, and around an inch from end to end. All matter was drawn out of the space, so that the bullet contained nothing more than an incredible vacuum. On impact, they imploded, drawing matter from around itself to fulfill the vacuum inside, causing serious damage.

Or, just something implosive.
He carried the rifle away from the shelves, pleased with his decision.

Slurp loved a good ole challenge no matter what it was even if it involves pain, killing and most likely death. She is botherd that the other competitors are way big and looked keen on winning the contest. They grabbed weapons from the tables. Someone had chosen to what looked like a gun and the other a blade. "No doubt they'll do fine with them, but I rather use something small and hidden like this." Slurp had to climb up on the table since she couldn't reach it. A plasma dagger glowing with a reddish colour had caught her attention. "Ah. A perfect weapon of my choice." Satisfied she chosed it, Slurp jumped off the table and stood alongside with the *giants*. Slurp is unaware that one of them is trying to have a quick chat with her before the contest starts.

The Travidian got a closer look at the small merc.
Hm. She chose a Plasma Dagger. Usually people choose a beam variant due to their cutting power, but she obviously knows what she's doing; a plasma dagger still has a solid base to deflect blows, while the beam variants simply let anything resistant enough to withstand the beam swish through. I'm actually impressed... she might not make it due to her size... but I'm still impressed.
His train of thought collapsed quickly as the FLAK cannon wielding combatant approached the step.
"Hey, doesn't that cannon on your back already count as a weapon? Rest of us only brought one since we don't genetically alter other guns onto us.

Flank stopped mid-stride to reply to the Travidian.
"Normally, yes." He said, loud enough for the TV crew to hear and record. "But it has been emptied. Until I find some seventeen millimetre FLAK bullets, shells, mortar bombs or plasma rounds, it's just a metal club with a scope. A very good scope."
With that, he began to check the condition of the weapon. A redundant task, it was brand new. The clip held 60 bullets.
Use them sparingly, he thought, and aim for weak points.

Fem'Nyla had mixed reactions to seeing her fellow competators. They all had attributes that would stick in her mind; the Ravis had a gun stuck to his back, though it apparently wasn't cheating, the Travidian was eyeing everyone suspiciously, and there was a small, silly looking creature that didn't look like it belonged at all. X'vak, I would just love to drop-kick that little bugger...

She browsed through the racks of weaponry, only seeing real potential when she found the section labled "blades". There was a wide selection of choices, however the length of the blades seemed rather black-and-white. They were either too long or too short for her tastes. Something longer than a dagger so I can have a comfortable reach, but short enough so that I can still hold it.

She continued down the line and came across the beam-blades section. Interested, she stopped and picked up a metallic black bar that fit neatly intoher hand. She pressed the trigger, and a glowing beam of white energy was produced, humming ever so slightly. She twisted the secondary knob, and the beam grew further. Experimenting with it a bit more, she found that it could be extended to two and a half feet in length, or shrunk to only nine inches. Satisfied, she clipped the bar to her jumpsuit and walked over to the door, intending to try and make conversation with the other mercenaries.

"And who are you? I've seen you before, but I can't put my finger 'round it... were you on one of those... magazines or whatever they're called? I remember one of my targets at one point was reading up on it and the bloody thing actually made me miss my shot. I vividly remember the face on the cover, and your face matches my memory." He asked the female combatant.

Fem'Nyla grimaced at the Travidian's comment. She was likely the Nephid he had seen before, but she would never admit it. That was her previous life, and although femme-fatale had played a significant role in recent years, she would rather be known for her murders, not her modeling.

Putting on her best poker face, she said, "yes, that could be me. Then again, it would only have been me if the model in question had been wielding some sort of concealed weapon." She tilted her head forward slightly at the end, squinting her eyes.

What the... Thought the Zeteron. He was in awe of all the weapons. I'm gonna grab the... NO! That one. MUST HAVE CUSTOM SWORD. He went over to grab the BSC(Bavarian Sword Crafts) Plasma Sword. It was very big, and usually only wielded by vanguards. The blade was a glowing blue, while the hilt was a silver iron color. He then realized that would look weird being carried by an alien in a jumpsuit. Ah well.... Vandore thought and lifted down the sword from the rack.

Slurp tried her best to have a conversation with the other contestents. "It's funny how we all signed up for this bloody, gruesome contest isn't it?" She turned to Fem'Nyla and strained her neck to look up. "I think I saw your face in one my sic-fi magazines once but I can't remember what you did."

Vandore overheard the very small creature talking to the Nephid. "What the heck is a magazine?" he asked the small thing. His sword was slung over his back.

Slurp was shocked to hear that from the Zeteron. She explained very carefully. "It's technicaly like the news channel only on paper and additonal information. Next thing you'll be telling me what the heck is a DVD?" Slurp waited to see what the Zeteron's reaction.

"DVD? you mean the Digital Versatile Disks used by the Terrans 1000 years before they were able to make a functional spaceship? I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't know that either. HDSDs, High Definition Service Disks, outdated that tech centuries before that, and even the HDSDs were rendered obsolete by the HDHS, the High Definition Holographic System where I come from." He said, shrugging off a kink in his shoulder. "Then again, the Holographic tech isn't available everywhere, and doesn't seem to be present here either. Maybe DVDs are popular with some other... primitive or poor planets."

"Oh no, I know what a DVD is. I think." Vandore thought a moment. "It appears I don't know what a-" But the rest of his sentence was cut off by a Travidian, explaining what a DVD was.

Fem'Nyla responded to the little creature by repeating what she had told the Travidian, adding at the end, "I've also squashed a few bugs in my lifetime." She took a step forwards and looked down, to add emphasis to what she was implying.

The conversation that followed, about DVDs and HDSD's and HDhS's, absolutely bored Fem'Nyla to her core. She crossed her first pair of arms in front of her chest, and placed her second pair on her hips. Looking around, she surveyed the weaponry choices of her competitors. The Travidian had grabbed a carbine, an obvious but reliable choice. The bug and the Zeteron had gone for melee weapons, each one matching their size. The huge Ravis had gone for a standard-looking assault rifle with an odd clip to match it. She found it unusual for someone so large to be carrying a weapon of such size.

Glancing around, she was wondering what the hold-up was...

Slurp is relived. At least they knew what it is. "If all of us survive this death trap, I’m going to take everyone to planet Earth that is if you want to of course.” Out of the *giants*, she found the Ravis Flank extremely dangerous what with the cannon rested comfortably on his shoulder and the Nephid Fem'Nyla stubborn yet strangely calm. Slurp was certain that Fem’Nyla can’t wait to murder her once the contest get‘s underway. “Then again, Slurp thought silently. It could be anyone here.” Slurp didn’t know what the hold up was. To pass the time, she got out her Sudoku book and began to fill out the missing numbers.

Reeq choice was a large hunting knife. It's blade was sharp and was atleast 9 inches long.
He looked around, clappering with his pincers. It was an old habit and it would die with him. He decided to keep quit and do the thing he did best; listening.
He made the knife ready, having the blade slightly tilted down. Critters he could handle, but if there where any droids, there would be trouble.
He didn't count on to survive this. A final run before the eternal sleep, the last resort for his actions.

Glancing to her side, Fem'Nyla noticed the final mercenary making his way towards their group, wielding yet another melee weapon. With all this close-range weaponry, I wouldn't put it past our host to throw bots with assault rifles at us. Then again, he did mention "specimens"... Realizing they would soon be heading into the first room, Fem'Nyla skirted over to the Ravis and said, "Would you at all be interested in a temporary alliance? We could help each other out, watch each others' backs. What do you think?" The Ravis gave his answer right before the door began to open.


Drenic unclasped his hands in his control room. He had been watching the mercenaries with interest, taking note of their weaponry choices. He smiled at the abundance of close-range weapons. That will make this interesting. The Sectrix was last to join the seven. Smiling, Drenic flicked a switch...


...and the door was unbolted in front of the mercenaries. It began opening slowly, with the slight high-pitched whine of the tell-tale machinery holding the facility together. The seven of them stepped in, and the door closed behind them. The platform they found themselves on was moved a few meters forward before coming to a sudden halt. There was near-darkness all around them, until a hatch was opened above them, blinding white light searing down. The platform rose, bringing them out into the middle of Room 1, the arena.


This room is shaped like an octagon. Seven of its sides have doors that can slide up to unleash a wave of enemies. The eighth door is bolted shut similarly to the door that led to this room. The door closest to where the mercenaries began is larger than the rest. The roof is shaped somewhat like a dome, with a glass hemisphere secured to the top.


Drenic appeared in a hologram again, his arms stretched wide. "Welcome to Room One, contestants! To continue on, you will need to survive ten rounds of enemies in this arena. Ammunition and powercells will be provided at the beginning of round six. Since I'm not a fan of waiting, and unless you have any questions, let us begin!"


The hologram faded in front of the mercenaries, and before they had time to think about what had happened, the two doors closest to the larger door slid open, and wave one began.

It consisted of six Hyllien cougars, lanky creatures with barbed tails, large paws with seven razor-sharp claws, and multiple rows of teeth. They stalked forward out of their holding area, each locking on to a target. They pounced as one unit, teeth bared, claws ready to shred.

Because she was so small, Slurp was missed as a target.

((These cougars should be referred to by your number, meaning the cougar that attacks Flank is "cougar 3". Since Slurp was not attacked, "cougar 6" is attacking Fem'Nyla.))

Flank didn't say a word to Fem'Nyla's proposal. Rather, he froze on the spot, a fear only familiar to himself gripping his lungs. At length, with much struggle on his own part, he dipped his head in a shaky nod before they were put into the arena. Even as the platform moved, his legs were shaking.
---------------

The moment cougar 3 pounced, Flank was in action, determination taking place of his previous lack of nerve. Turning the gun handle in his right hand so that he held it upside down, he stepped forward on his left leg, ducking a little. When the cougar was almost upon him, he raised in his stance, twisting his rear hip forward to gain more power in his maneuver: he swung his gun arm up in an attempt to cleave the cougar through the chin with the blade that resided under the barrel of his choice weapon.

After hearing Drenic said ammunition would be provided, the Travidian quickly looked into the ammo cartage. "only 32 bullets... nothing in the reserve clip... well this'll be a fun game of 'conserve your ammo' isn't this?" he muttered.

The doors opened and the cougars entered the field of battle.

He stepped back a couple steps to allow the other mercs to go ahead of him, cocking the gun and setting it to the single shot mode, waiting for Cougar 5 to charge towards him, ready to fire when it does.

"Wa-wa-wait! Ah crap." Vandore said as just as the hologram disappeared. "Uh-oh..." He said as the cougars appeared. Vandore pulled out his massive sword and sliced at Cougar 1, which had jumped straight for his shark-like face. "Come 'ere you little bugger!" Vandore muttered as Cougar 1 got nearer to him. Just before Cougar 1 hit Vandore, he attempted to remove it's front legs, thus giving him time to do counter strike Cougar 1.

Cougar 3's chin was splintered as a result of Flank's attack, its purple blood splattering the Ravis in the face. It was thrown back a few meters, whimpering when it hit the floor, but it got back to its feet, bounding up to its attacker in a zig-zag motion. When it reached the Ravis' feet, it clawed and tore with every ounce of ferocity it could muster up.

The cougar that had attacked the Travidian misjudged its leap, and landed rather awkwardly where its target should have been. It growled and lept yet again, aiming to tackle its target's midpoint.

((Ter, your character is number 5, so you were attacked by cougar 5, not 4, which attacked Isak. I'll assume you meant 5 for now.))

Cougar 1 recieved lacerations to its front knees, but managed to latch on to the Zeteron's body regardless. It snarled and scratched at Vandore's stomach with its hind feet, then tried to bite down of the side of his head.


Fem'Nyla didn't have her weapon out in time, and cougar 6 tackled her to the floor. She struggled to unhook it from her suit's belt, finally unclasping it and igniting it, scoarching the beast's side. It howled and relinquished a bit of its grip, allowing the Nephid to kick it off of her. The cougar flew into the air and landed on its side, howling yet again. Fem'Nyla looked at herself, glad the only thing the cougar had given her were a few cuts on her lower-right arm. She lengthened the blade and rolled to the side, getting closer to Flank.

((Ah. Alright.))

Somewhat startled at the speed of the cougar's leap, he finally jumped to the side, raised his gun and fired two shots towards the side of the cougar's torso, with the second shot aimed right at the the cougar's center of mass.