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L'Supervivere Over the course of several years during the great industrial age, this mechanical suit was created by the lesser-known Professor Stewart Phoenix out of disused parts scavenged from various scrapheaps and abandoned factories around the outskirts of Victorian London, hence L'Supervivere's rather cobbled together and complex appearance. The original and sole purpose of L'Supervivere was to be used by Professor Stewart Phoenix to protect his family and his estate, Phoenix Manor, from destruction, but over the years this technical monstrosity was also used for several other suitably vital causes, such as fixing leaks in the Manor's roof and rescuing cats from trees. The most notable alternative use of L'Supervivere was during a lengthy voyage abroad, in which it was used to navigate the treacherous rainforests of the Amazon and defend a party of explorers (including Professor Stewart Phoenix himself) against any threats they may have encountered. At the end of Professor Stewart Phoenix's long and fruitful life, he proclaimed in his last will and testament that L'Supervivere would be passed down to his eldest and only son, Dr Joseph Phoenix, on the sole condition that it mustn't be used for any type of criminal activity and that at the end of his life, he should also pass on L'Supervivere to his eldest son, and that this son should pass it on to HIS eldest son, and so on until what is only described within Professor Stewart Phoenix's will as "The end of all days", but so far no-one has been able to fully understand the meaning behind this choice of words. Mysteriously, after being passed down through several generations L'Supervivere and the Phoenix bloodline completely disappeared from public view in the early 1920s. It is still rumored that L'Supervivere still exists in its original form to this day, but the location of the suit itself and it's rightful owner is currently not known... More images on my Flickr. Enjoy!
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The Arsenal of the Ancients Abandoned to time, abandoned to death.Left alone, the creatures roam.-A Rhyme of Those Inside You run. You don't look back to see what's chasing you, you just run. You run because you know that skittering sound killed your brother, and it would just love to kill you.You can tell. Oh, Great Beings, you can tell. You call feel its hatred, wanting to break you, destroy you, make you like it. Make every last shred of sanity vanish from your head before it feeds on you and allows you the escape of death. The death it can't feel. But you're fast. Your brother injured it using one of the prototype weapons lying around the dusty, dark rooms of the Warehouse, but that wasn't enough to save him. You ran while he screamed, while the escapee came the closest to feeling happy it ever does. It might be enough to save you. If you can just make it to the light before the line between you and it disappears. The light is so close. But so far. History of the Warehouse Storage Facility 42. Something the Great Beings would probably like to wipe off their slate. It used to be a highly secure facility where only the most classified experiments were conducted and most valuable projects kept. Emphasis on used to. It used to be in a large cavern. Something went horribly wrong, as it always does. Something tried to escape. It failed. The failsafes didn't. Element-blocking and physical barriers were thrown up, reinforcing the walls to be nearly unbreakable. The cave was collapsed, burying the facility in tons upon tons of rock and earth. The perfect prison, for the wrong prisoners. Scientists, janitors, and anyone in the base at the time were trapped. For a time, everything held together. Just keep doing your jobs, and the rescuers would be here soon. That lasted until the first blackout. The power in some of the less secure containment areas disappeared, the main computer system deciding that it needed to conserve power for the long-term. The escapees weren't too bad, not enough to keep security from putting them down or chasing them into the basement, but it shook the little bit of confidence everyone had. Factions emerged. The second blackout, a few months later, took the power out of the communications relay. The system's reasoning was simple: Either relief was coming or it wasn't. Beaming a signal through hundreds of bio of rock took a lot of power. That was a dark time. Many died in riots, and the social structure, barely stable, was completely toppled. People started to wonder if those outside had decided to abandon them rather than admit their mistakes. The blackout that claimed mid-security tipped it over the edge. Ironically, in hatred came Unity. Pulled together by their bitter dislike of the people who had stuck them here, order returned. Another seeming eternity passed, with each day the hope rescuers would come diminishing further and further. Finally, the computer was struck with a decision that tied up its memory banks for weeks. It had somehow grown to care for those that depended on the ever dwindling supply of energy left in the reactor. Three major systems were left. Maximum security, the food synthesizers, and the barriers. Unfortunately, it couldn't choose to turn the barriers off. That was an overriding command, back from the days when it was servant to its creators. The final decision was to turn max security off. With those systems gone, the prototype reactor that fed the barriers could power the food systems nearly indefinitely, saving those who didn't die at the hands of the creature freed. Unwilling to see its dependents suffer and meet their deaths at the hands of the abomination, the computer went dormant. If it could have cried, it would have. Now those left behind are hunted. Hunted through the dark halls of Storage Facility 42, their numbers ever decreasing, trying desperately to use the prototype (and unreliable at best) technology stored in the warehouse to their advantage. Species Since this is set during the construction of the Great Spirit robot, most of the workers in the lab are Matoran. None are Toa, the captive taking depraved pleasure in robbing those it hunts of their protectors first. A slight number are Agori and Glatorian. Any species created by Mata Nui have not been made yet.The EscapeeNot much is known about the captive, other than what has been heard from those unlucky enough to survive its attacks. A collection of lyrical statements have been compiled from the ramblings of these poor individuals, collectively called "Rhymes of Those Inside." They seem to discuss the situation of the researchers and the nature of the creature, though rarely in any form of sense. A particularly mystifying description:"The insects turned, turned the metal, turned the equipment, turned the mental." Locations:Storage Facility 42 is divided into two large sectors by Hall 2B, or the Hallway of Twilight, as more poetic residents have called it. The western sector is much smaller than the eastern one. Storages, Labs, and Halls are identified by a letter, a number, and a combination of the two respectively. The inhabitants slowly retreated into the western section over time. The reason was the food and water dispensers at first, the monsters later. Almost all of the light has been shut off to the eastern section, and maps have mostly been lost, making this a haven for the more undesirable inhabitants. West: [*]Storage A: By far the largest single room in the western section, Storage A is home to the great majority of the remaining population. Due to the tendency of the less polite inhabitants to avoid light, it's kept brightly lit at all times. Almost all technology has been moved out of here to make room for refugees from other settlements. The majority of the floorspace is taken up by cots and other forms of beds, a medical area in the northwest corner. The remaining area is consumed by food and water dispensers. Storage A also makes up the largest section of the western sector. [*]Storages B & C: Located adjacent to Storage A, these two rooms are where most of the living supplies for the inhabitants of A are kept. Spare bedrolls, tools, some weapons, medical supplies, etc. [*]Storage D: Between Storage C and Hallway 2B, Storage D is the starting point for most expeditions into the eastern section. The only thing approaching a bar or restaurant is in D, run by a Matoran of Plantlife named Rekan. [*]Lab 1: Mostly disused now and stripped for equipment, Lab 1 still may have some technology no one has taken... [*]Lab 2: The home of the remnants of the security forces, Lab 2 is the place to run to if you're being chased by anything, be it raiders or the escapee itself. East: [*]Lab 20: Located in the heart of the eastern sector, Lab 20 is the best estimate for where the Prisoner calls its home, some perverse desire calling it back to the place it was kept captive. If you want to stay alive, don't go anywhere near Lab 20. [*]Storage E: One of the largest rooms in the entire facility, Storage E is full of undocumented equipment and technology, perhaps the best place to find something that might be able to defeat the captive. Boxes are piled high on the aisles and in a seemingly random order. Factions:There are no true official factions in this RPG apart from the security forces lead by a Glatorian named Heran and a small group of escaped minimum security prisoners operating out of the eastern sector. Player factions will be added as needed. Eastern Assailants: More a name given by the westerners to the raiders living in the east than any official band, these scrappers survive by dodging the escapee and raiding the west for food and supplies. Security: Formerly those responsible for enforcing security levels, now they have a much more dire mission: defend the west from the escapee and raiders. Unfortunately, their numbers are dwindling...Profile Form:All residents need to fill out an identification form, get staff approval, and post it in the profile topic. Otherwise you won't get a funeral. No more than 5 characters unless given explicit permission, please. Name: Please keep it Bionicle-ish.Gender:Species: Matoran, Agori, Glatorian. Another species might be granted if a good enough reason is given.Appearance: What your character looks like.Personality (optional but encouraged): What your character thinks and acts like.Weapons/Equipment: Your tools and possessions.Skills: Any things you're good at.Bio: Five sentences, please. Rules and Regulations:1. All BZP rules apply.2. Listen to the staff.3. Your posts should go something like this, with IC for in character and OOC for out of character:IC: The light was getting closer, but Skrina was rapidly losing her lead. OOC: Some help would be nice!4. Arguments/debates may go on for 2 posts in the main thread. After that, take it to PM or the discussion topic.5. No godmodding. Dodging unavoidable attacks, ignoring injuries, etc.6. This fits under godmodding: No metagaming. Knowing things your character didn't learn, magically crashing another player's party without a good IC reason.7. Put The Darkness in your profile to prove you read this.8. Don't kill another player's character without permission from him/her. Make sure to write that you have permission in the post where you kill the character.9. IN THE EVENT THAT DEATH SEEMS UNAVOIDABLE: Your character may be killed to avoid breaking rule 5. Only staff can do this. This isn't a punishment, just realism. If you have a good way to get out of it after your character is dead, please PM the Fourteenth or another staffer.10. Canon characters are not allowed without having permission from the GM first.11. NPC autohitting is permitted as long as you play realistically.12. No bunnying. That means taking control of another person's character without permission.13. Double posting... Nah.14. Have fun! Punishments are given based on the severity and number of the offense. Rewards include prototype tech that works, special powers, or even something like a character slot.
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Staff Survival (observation several hours after the last post)
Underscore posted a blog entry in blogs_blog_1852
Yipees, the staff aren't doing as well as I anticipated. Actually, it's kind of lame seeing how bad they're doing. The first assiignment: to come up with a less-than-sucky team (sorry, tribe) name. The Schizo Kaita. The Clicket Von GlitterGlau Crew. Clicket Supertramps? Seriously? That's the best they can come up with? Lame, lame, lame. -
This is the review topic for my first BZP epic, I appreciate all feedback and look forward to seeing what you all think of my story. So go ahead and post your opinions, and thank you for doing so!
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What Happens After the End It was over. It was over a long time ago, they were living in the epilogue, trying to survive in the movie credits, lingering in the last few seconds. They all knew it, they all knew that they had defied death, only to face something that made some of them wish they hadn’t. It was the world, earth, but not the world we know, this world was dead, all life on it was as miniscule as if it were dead as well, like words of a sentence trying to exist after the period. The world had faced death, and lost, but not all those on it had lost, a number still survived, though no one knew how many. Nuclear destruction had been inevitable, and had eventually occurred, and these were the people who were fortunate, or, more accurately, unfortunate, enough to survive. Mako put his foot on top of the next rock, took yet another step up. He repeated the action, again, and again, almost there? He wondered. Finally, he reached the top. He was at the top of a steep rock hill, he took a quick survey of the land. Below and in front of him lay a camp, a small one, but it had a good amount of things he and his family and friends had collected. They had scavenged the things from all over, stores, homes, even corpses had been looted in the interest of gaining anything valuable. They owned 3 large containers of gasoline, a pickup truck and an SUV, several tissue boxes, which weren’t really very valuable, but could be used as bandages, We all know we need plenty of those, some rubberbands, and a good-sized collection of knives, they had four total, one was a regular pocket knife, another was a Swiss Army knife, it was in pretty good condition, only a few scratches, not too much rust, and most of the extensions were still there. Another was a hunting knife, and the final one was a military combat knife. They also had a collection of clothes, some with practical wearing use, jeans, t-shirts, boots, tennis shoes, etc., and others that would be more useful to be broken down to use their threads for something else, or to sell them, their material was good, they would probably make a profit if sold to some other group they might happen to encounter. They had also many other things that they had collected and looted. They had been living with great difficulty ever since WWIII, about 38 years ago. Areas known to have radiation were avoided, occasionally checked to see if they still had radiation, but they always did, it would be a long time until the radiation faded. Mako turned, peering into the distance to his left, south. There he saw the shadows of the town towards which he and the other members of his group traveled. There was a surprising amount of the town still left there, it had taken less damage than some other areas, as it wasn’t targeted much by the enemy due to its lack of overall value, now, it was quite valuable, since many of the things there remained intact. “Things,” Mako reflected on the term for a moment. It had been around since before WWIII, that much he knew, but after the war, a lot of survivors had altered the term a bit, and now used it to refer to just about anything in general left over from before the war. Of course they still remembered and used the titles of each individual item, but in general such remainders of the past were called things. Mako considered it such a simplistic word, but a useful one. The reason it was on his mind was that his uncle had recently been teaching him a bit about the old things, their names, the origins of their names, their purposes, and other such things. Some of the purposes he hadn’t understood, and his uncle had simply told him that their purposes made more sense in the old world. Mako had asked about the old world, and his uncle had promised that he would nightly tell him more and more about the way things used to be. Mako had just been recalling this conversation with his uncle, and his train of thought had led him to the interesting word, “things”. He saw in it something most people would overlook, the fact that it represented the adaptation of the survivors to the way things now were. He realized that it showed how the survivors had tried to adapt to this new world, but he knew that, despite all their adaptation, they stood no chance in a world that was as dead as those who had not survived, and that it wouldn’t be long until they followed. A tear came to his eye. He had family who had committed suicide to escape from the torture that was life. Mako knew not what it had been like to live in the old world, the old life, he hadn’t been born back then. His parents were determined that, if mankind stood strong, fought with all their strength, then they could survive and make it through, so his mother had given birth to him after WWIII, with in the hope that he would help preserve mankind. He was 14 now, he had been born 24 years after the war. He didn’t know what to think, his life was planned out for him, he was to fight a struggle every day of his life just to live, and he was supposed to make sure that mankind lived. He didn’t want to disappoint his parents, but he himself wasn’t sure that he agreed with them that mankind could survive this. Humans could take a lot, go through a lot, but this, he just didn’t know. As the single tear made its way slowly down his cheek, he thought to himself, I can’t do this, I don’t know if I’m even going to survive, I could die any time, every day I wake up to fear what might happen, and every night I go to sleep in terror of the morning. How am I supposed to save anyone if I don’t even know if I can save myself? He walked back down the rock. He had no idea why he didn’t just commit suicide like his relatives. Maybe it was for his parents, maybe it was for those nights when his uncle would tell him of the old world, those were the only fun he ever had. Maybe it was a determination just to try. Whatever it was, he felt an incredible burden from what his parents expected of him, to help save mankind. He felt so much expected of him, and so little that he was capable of, life was a horror, even his nightmares were a welcome relief from reality. He never allowed himself to cry. He had become hardened and tough on the outside, but on the inside he felt the pain every time a relative died, whether by suicide, starvation, radiation, or anything else. He was hurt inside from living this way, every day his heart wanted to pour out a fountain of tears, but he had locked it up and rarely listened to it anymore. Recently, though, it had become too much. His outside shell was beginning to crack. He was trying to keep it from falling apart, trying to keep himself from falling apart, life left no room, no mercy, for those with tears. He roughly flung the tear from his cheek with his hand, mentally banishing the feelings that had brought it. He turned and took several leaps to reach the bottom of the steep rock hill. He, and just about all survivors, had learned how to handle rough terrain; they had to, since there was little left but rough terrain. He part-ran, part-leapt towards the encampment. He made it to the camp, which was set up just outside the rocky area. Luckily, the rest of the way between the camp and the town was fairly flat, making the way they would take the next day easier. The guard at the side of the camp he approached held a FAMAS in his hands, on his back he bore an RPG, and he wore a cowboy-style hat to shield his face from the hot sun. He wore blue jeans and a sleeveless white shirt with an ammo vest over it. His ammo vest held only two extra shots for his RPG, and one full clip of FAMAS ammo, while the rest of his clips were made for different guns. He had three different types of grenades, and at his side carried a half-full Desert Eagle, with only two extra clips in his ammo vest. One of his shoes was a steel-toed boot, while the other was a tennis shoe. He wore dark sunglasses. Mako stopped and put his hands up as the guard trained his gun on him, then the guard recognized him and lowered his gun, allowing Mako to proceed into camp. “Good afternoon, Frank.” Mako stated as he passed the guard. “Same to you, Mako, and hey,” The guard grabbed him by the arm, and Mako turned to look at him, “next time, when you say five minutes, be back in five minutes. That was six, a little longer and we would have had to come out after you.” Mako nodded, “Sorry, I’ll remember next time.” “Good,” Frank replied with a smile, “I know you usually remember so I’m letting you have it easy, but you know why we need to keep things strict.” “Yes sir,” answered Mako, then the guard released him and he continued into camp. He did indeed know why they needed to keep things so strict, they way things were now, any amount of time out of camp was dangerous, and if he spent any more time out of the camp than he said he would, they would need to send people out to find him. Usually they only waited two or three minutes more than the person who left had said they would be gone for, and then would send out a search party. The world was dangerous enough without going out of camp, outside alone he knew death was closer than ever, as the unknown watched him and stalked him every minute. As always, comments, criticism, and all feedback greatly appreciated!
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Weekly Survival Lesson I: Survival Psychology Part I
Crimson Jester posted a blog entry in Blog. BLOG! BLOOOOOOG!!!!!!!!!!!!
Hello, readers. As I'm sure a few of you know, I took a 6-week Survival Instructors' Course over the summer of 2008. After completion, I am now fully qualified to teach military-grade survival skills. Now, before you go saying 'Oh, when will I need rubbish like this', think. These incidents are a lot more common than you think. Things from getting your car stuck in a snowy ditch on a low-to-no-traffic highway, to being in a commercial plane crash. You see them on the news frequently, and sadly, the common factor in all of them is: too many people died. How can I say this, you ask. Well, the concept is relatively simple. Would the initial survivors have had some sort of survival skills training, they would have all had an extremely high chance of making it out alive. And that is why I'm blogging today. I figure, I should share my invaluable information with BZPower. Each and every lesson is my personal interpretation of information handed down to me, all of which is Canadian military-grade training. Only a select few will ever attain these skills, so consider yourselves a lucky bunch. Now, on to today's lesson: Survival Psychology Part I Survival depends on several factors, the will to survive and mental preparation being two of them. Human beings have an innate will to survive but we also have higher intelligence than most animals and are able to repress any feelings or drives we may have. If we panic or lose hope, we may defeat our will to survive. The most important ability we can have is being able to recognize a new situation and reacting/adapting to it. FEAR OF 1. Death 2. Being alone 3. Animals 4. Darkness 5. Weakness 6. Failure 7. Discomfort 8. The unknown 9. Other personal fears DEALING WITH FEAR Fear is a normal reaction for anyone faced with a new or unfamiliar situation. Fear is a double-edged sword; it may aid or hinder the individual depending on their reaction to it. It can lead to hopelessness and decrease self-confidence, hindering their will to survive. In can also, by releasing adrenaline, give greater strength and stamina, reduce pain sensation, give you the ability to think more clearly, and help you act in a more coordinated manner. SEVEN ENEMIES OF SURVIVAL 1. Pain: Pain is a natural way of making you pay attention to something that is wrong with you. However, nature also has ways of holding off pain if you are too busy doing something else to play attention to the injury right then. You should treat whatever needs to get treated and then get busy or pain may go unnoticed and become more serious. 2. Cold: Cold is a much greater threat to survival than it seems. It not only lowers your abilities to think, but it also tends to lower your will to do anything but get warm again. Cold is a subtle enemy; at the same time that it numbs the mind and body, it numbs the will. Because it is hard to move and you want to sleep, you can forget your goal: to survive. Solutions: Build a fire*, get dry, and keep busy*. 3. Thirst: Even when thirst is not extreme, it can dull your mind. As with pain and cold, thirst can be almost forgotten if the will to survive is strong enough. It is also important to remember not to deprive oneself unnecessarily of water. Serious dehydration may occur in a survival situation even when there is plenty of water available. Solution: Attain water*. 4. Hunger: Hunger is dangerous because of the effect it can have on the mind, primarily in lessening the person's ability for rational though. Both thirst and hunger increase a person's susceptibility to the weakening effects of cold, pain, and fear. Solution: Eat food, set snares*, fish*, collect edible plants. 5. Fatigue: Even a very moderate amount of fatigue can reduce mental ability. Fatigue can make you careless as it becomes increasingly easy to adopt the feeling of just not caring. This is one of the biggest dangers in survival. The confused notion that fatigue and energy use are directly related may be responsible for many deaths in survival situations. Certainly, there is a real danger of over-exertion, but fatigue may actually be due to hopelessness, lack of goal, dissatisfaction, frustration, or boredom. Fatigue may represent an escape from a situation that has become too difficult. If you recognize the dangers of a situation, you can often summon the strength to go on. Solution: Take short naps, and stay busy the rest of the time. 6/7. Boredom and Loneliness: Boredom and loneliness are two of the toughest enemies of survival (trust me, I know this first-hand). They are dangerous mainly because they are unexpected. When nothing happens; when something is expected and does not come off; when you must stay still, quiet, and alone, these feelings creep up on you. Solution: Keep busy (camp crafts*) *: Later features of Survival Weekly. Well, I believe this wraps up this weeks' lesson. I hope you all enjoyed this, and be ready for another one next week! Comments, questions, criticism? PM me, or leave a comment.
