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Dr.Nekoshu
Confuse. Improvise. Overcome.
((Greetings my name is Nekoshu and I’m here to give a brief rundown of the works for anyone who needs to know. This here is a Quest Roleplay. Put simply all that is required of you is to read what I post as our Story-teller, and vote on options I will give you to progress the story! Sometimes I may let people suggest a Write-In as a vote and give a randomized roll of a die to see what vote gets in depending on the numbers. But enough from me! Allow me to begin our story!))
Links:
Collection page: Quest - Survivor’s Tales Collection
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The memories of what happened down there beneath the waves, it all still cycled through your mind. Strange things. You knew what went on down there but, how could it have all gone so wrong. Who were you kidding that was a stupid question to ask, they were messing with things no-one should have. That no Mortal should have. It was only a matter of time until it all went to Oblivion. But, for now you were safe or you felt safer than you did down there at least. Speaking of which, where even were you, your escape from the station had all been a blur near the end.
With this in mind you began to take stock of your surroundings, the most obvious thing you was that you were sitting down at a metal table in a fairly well-lit room. Metal walls too, one particular section held what seemed to be a bulkhead door in it. Were you on a ship maybe? Another section of the wall, up in a corner opposite you held a single small orb with a tiny blue dot in it that seemed to be focused on you. Ah, a camera, you must be in an interrogation room or something of the sort, perhaps debriefing but if that was so… Where was your debriefer?
As if on cue with your thoughts the valve on the door began to turn and push into the room, through it you caught the glimpse of a what you could have mistaken for a normal crew member if not for the logo on his shirt. Two W’s tip to tip, the left one wearing a little wizard’s hat upon it on its free tip. Wizard’s Way, one of the more well-known corporations that nearly ran the world nowadays, and your current employer. Or so you hoped. This man stepped into the room, black hair cut short not unlike a crew cut and his black clothing marking him as what you could only assume as some sort of security officer. The man moved towards you and set a laptop upon the table before taking a seat opposite you and looking you over with curious Cinnamon eyes.
Next he gave a soft and pleasant smile before opening his laptop and starting something up on it. “Greetings, my name is Gerard Vexial. I’m here to debrief you about what happened down in our Deep-sea research station, named…” He glances to his computer for a moment. “…Nyad. For our first order of business I need you to state your name and occupation on the research station before we continue.” With that he looked to you expectantly…
————————————————————Links:
Collection page: Quest - Survivor’s Tales Collection
————————————————————————————————————————
The memories of what happened down there beneath the waves, it all still cycled through your mind. Strange things. You knew what went on down there but, how could it have all gone so wrong. Who were you kidding that was a stupid question to ask, they were messing with things no-one should have. That no Mortal should have. It was only a matter of time until it all went to Oblivion. But, for now you were safe or you felt safer than you did down there at least. Speaking of which, where even were you, your escape from the station had all been a blur near the end.
With this in mind you began to take stock of your surroundings, the most obvious thing you was that you were sitting down at a metal table in a fairly well-lit room. Metal walls too, one particular section held what seemed to be a bulkhead door in it. Were you on a ship maybe? Another section of the wall, up in a corner opposite you held a single small orb with a tiny blue dot in it that seemed to be focused on you. Ah, a camera, you must be in an interrogation room or something of the sort, perhaps debriefing but if that was so… Where was your debriefer?
As if on cue with your thoughts the valve on the door began to turn and push into the room, through it you caught the glimpse of a what you could have mistaken for a normal crew member if not for the logo on his shirt. Two W’s tip to tip, the left one wearing a little wizard’s hat upon it on its free tip. Wizard’s Way, one of the more well-known corporations that nearly ran the world nowadays, and your current employer. Or so you hoped. This man stepped into the room, black hair cut short not unlike a crew cut and his black clothing marking him as what you could only assume as some sort of security officer. The man moved towards you and set a laptop upon the table before taking a seat opposite you and looking you over with curious Cinnamon eyes.
Next he gave a soft and pleasant smile before opening his laptop and starting something up on it. “Greetings, my name is Gerard Vexial. I’m here to debrief you about what happened down in our Deep-sea research station, named…” He glances to his computer for a moment. “…Nyad. For our first order of business I need you to state your name and occupation on the research station before we continue.” With that he looked to you expectantly…
What was your Occupation in the Station?
A. Edward Belial, Expedition Team (You were a part of some of the most dangerous Men and Women in that station, possibly ex-military. You were built for survival and that proved useful near the end…)
B. Elizabeth Peper, Researcher (You were on the big wigs in the station, you helped research all those strange and interesting things down under the sea. You saw Now the mistakes your teams made, but knowing what those things were helped you escape.)
C. Zachariah Bryant, Engineer (All those big wigs and death squad people, and you still had to help keep the place running and danger-free from the normal deep-sea trouble an underwater habitat suffered. All those times spent where no-one else went, it helped you survive as long as you did.)
D. Subject #947, Contact (You were… One of the expendable people. Perhaps a death-row inmate somewhere, maybe a vagabond looking for good pay, perhaps something… Else. You knew all the ways to stay alive around those things, and there was always something different about you… Perhaps you knew what that was even.)
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