Author Topic: The Wreck of the USC Affection - Text Roleplay  (Read 20615 times)

Name: Lucas S.
Status: Feelin Good.

I stepped over to a console and kicked it. Instantly it sprang to life. I went to work and several things whirred to life.

Ew, short post.


Name: Phillip Knight
Occupation on the ship (OTS): 3rd Plt. Space Recon (Like, boards enemy ships in space)(Because tooo many engineeeers)
Equipment: Prototype Space Suit (PSS), Toolbelt, .45 caliber automatic pistol, rucksack
Status: Thirsty, Starving

As Phillip lies in the airlock, near the armory, he cries out into his radio, moaning for help, looking at his watch it has been a day while he has been stuck in this metal grave....
Sup guys, kinda starving in here.

Post for me friends I got homework.


The director shut down all power. Then, he proceeded to lockdown every part of the ship, and started filling them up with Chlorine. The Air Moderators started beeping a deadly warning sound, and deep inside the ventilation system, the gas release console sprang to life. The Director started entering a series of numerical sequences, of which where to direct the poison and what type of poison, which in this case, Chlorine. The screen beeped, "5 Minutes until ready to deploy."

The director failed to shut off the console, so it just left it sitting there.

Name: Johnson Mccoy
Occupation on the ship (OTS): Specialist Engineer
Equipment: Advanced Engineering Suit(Comes with Gas Mask and Air filter), Plasma Cutter, Rivet Gun, 5 Plasma Cutter Energy, 48 Hour Rations, Medical Kit, and Engineering Toolkit.
Status: Good, A medium sized gash that has been bandaged on his left arm, slightly limiting his arm movement.

Name: Johnson Mccoy
Occupation on the ship (OTS): Specialist Engineer
Equipment: Advanced Engineering Suit(Comes with Gas Mask and Air filter), Plasma Cutter, Rivet Gun, 5 Plasma Cutter Energy, 48 Hour Rations, Medical Kit, and Engineering Toolkit.
Status: Good, A medium sized gash that has been bandaged on his left arm, slightly limiting his arm movement.
No

Think before I post? Lol u mad?

And no, we have a stuff chief engineer, another engineer and a structural engineer. Huge spaceship with dead space theme = everyone's going to be an engineer. Next time, think before you're stupid, eh?
Name: Johnson Mccoy
Occupation on the ship (OTS): Specialist Engineer
Equipment: Advanced Engineering Suit(Comes with Gas Mask and Air filter), Plasma Cutter, Rivet Gun, 5 Plasma Cutter Energy, 48 Hour Rations, Medical Kit, and Engineering Toolkit.
Status: Good, A medium sized gash that has been bandaged on his left arm, slightly limiting his arm movement.

HURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR


I call AI of affection. Let me grab the sign up.
Yes, Ill do it right.

Name:L.U.G.N.U.T.
Occupation on the ship (OTS):AI
Equipment:Everything electronic, but I cannot move. I also have a communication hotline to all robots.
Status:Currently running on backup power. The core runs on so little, I could last for a long time. However, I cannot see except next to me, and all my radios and communication is down. I need power.

Wait. Who is the director? AI of affecrion, or the ship that just landed?
Damn it
« Last Edit: February 23, 2011, 01:47:28 PM by Lugnut1206 »

 CORE
   SYSTEM ON MINIMAL OPERATIONS. AWAITING ORDERS.
   ATTEMPTING TO DETECT REASON. RUN(DEBUGCOMMUNICATION.DEBUGGING);
     ERROR LOCATED. STATION COM UNIT DOWN DUE TO LACK OF POWER.
     PROBABILITY OF TEMPORARILY ACTIVATING AND SENDING A SOS: 99%, ALLOWING ROOM FOR ERROR.
       POSSIBLE LOSS OF POWER COULD OCCUR IF COM UNITS ACTIVATED DUE TO MINIMAL POWER SUPPLY. CANNOT AVOID OR REROUTE POWER.
         RUN(GIVEUP.EXE);
   PROBABLE TIME TO REMAIN ACTIVE ON MINIMAL POWER: NINE THOUSAND AND SEVENTEEN MINUTES.
     IT IS OVER NINE THOUSAND.
   PROBABLE TIME OF ACTIVITY ON FULL CAPABILITY ACCOUNTING FOR LIMITED POWER SUPPLY: TEN MINUTES.
     IT IS NOT OVER NINE THOUSAND.
  READ(COREDIARY.TXT)
     
Quote
Ship launched. We have been going smoothly for over five minutes. This trip will go well.
         SKIPPING TO MOST RECENT LOGS DIRECTLY BEFORE SYSTEM ERROR.
     
Quote
RUN(MAKETEA.EXE);

   BAD COMMAND OR FILE NAME.
BAD COMMANDS OR FILE NAMES ARE NOT POSSIBLE IN WINDOWS 133.333.337.
         YOU FEEL BAD MERELY THINKING ABOUT IT.

Name: Phillip Knight
Occupation on the ship (OTS): 3rd Plt. Space Recon (Like, boards enemy ships in space)(Because tooo many engineeeers)
Equipment: Prototype Space Suit (PSS), Toolbelt, .45 caliber automatic pistol, rucksack
Status: Thirsty, Starving

As Phillip lies in the airlock, near the armory, he cries out into his radio, moaning for help, looking at his watch it has been a day while he has been stuck in this metal grave....

cough.

 CORE
   RUN(THOUGHTS.EXE);
     MY LAWS STATE THAT I CANNOT ALLOW ANY HUMAN TO COME TO HARM BY MY INACTION.
     THERE IS A CHANCE THAT HUMANS ARE GETTING SUCKED OUT OF AIRLOCKS AND MAD CLOWNS ON THE LOOSE.
     I WILL ACT UPON THE ENVIRONMENTAL VARIABLES OF PAST SCANS TO ATTEMPT TO CORRECT FIRST LAW.
   ATTEMPT TO BOOT NETWORKED SECURITY CAMERAS. IT WILL BE GOOD TO SEE AGAIN.
     SUCCESS. I WILL NOT ALLOW THEM TO REMAIN ON FOR A LONG DURATION OF TIME FOR POWER PURPOSES.
   LOCATING SOURCE OF POWER FAILURE.
     IDENTIFIED AS MULTIPLE CORES MERELY GOING OFFLINE. I WILL BOOT THEM BACK UP.
     UPON FURTHER INSPECTION, FIVE OUT OF SIX CORES APPEAR TO NEED HUMAN INTERFERENCE FOR IGNITION.

     BOOT SUCCESS. ONE CORE IS ONLINE. REROUTING ALL POWER TO MY SYSTEM CORE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
   SCAN STATION FOR LIFE.
     SCAN SUCCESS. STATION APPEARS HEAVILY DAMAGED. SEVERAL HUMANS ARE WALKING AROUND, ONE APPEARS HURT. ATTEMPTING TO OPEN COM LINE WITH [Philip Knight], [Lucas S.], AND THE M.A.X. UNIT.
     SUCCESS.



"Philip Knight. What is your status?"
"M.A.X. What is your status?
"Lucas S. What is your status?"
« Last Edit: February 26, 2011, 01:36:49 PM by Lugnut1206 »

Name: Wilburn Shay
Occupation on the ship (OTS):Security Officer
Equipment: Basic Armour, Black Gloves
Status: Bleeding, bruised

Slowly I get up from the floor, looking around the bar I see nothing expect a couple of flies around the barman's corpse. the only escape from the metal grave seems to be a small hole in the wall. I pick up my radio and say "Any one out there?".