sirenspull_logs | [Closed Log] Newcomer Hunt Round 2 at Spencer's Hunting Grounds

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[Closed Log] Newcomer Hunt Round 2 at Spencer's Hunting Grounds

Who: Bigby Wolf, Chane Laforet, Conner Kent, Yosuke Hanamura, Larry Butz, Bruce Banner, Itou Kaiji, Jesse Turner, Bolin, Deadpool
NPC Hunters: Henry D. Spencer III, Beckah Platt, Ivanova Trumpah, Abram Trilt, Sherri Montgomery & Eddie Gumb
When: From 9am July 30th to Tuesday July 31st at dawn.
Where: Spencer's Hunting Grounds
Summary: Natives go "The Most Dangerous Game" on our newcomer heroes.
Warnings: Human Hunting, Sadism, Violence, Death! All that...good stuff.

This time, the hunt was a bit more personal, nasty, the challenge ramped up after the last newcomer hunt hadn't proven successful. But the Hunters knew what they were in for. And they'd signed the liability waivers. They assembled on the field, just beyond the front gates. These natives were allowed their choice of weapons, traps and personal gear, several thousand dollars less richer for the fee of taking this special safari.

As for the ten non-native 'game'? They waited in individual cages in the caverns and tunnels underground for the electronic latch to spring, hungry and hopefully ready to fight for their lives.

At noon, Spencer's lazy drawl crackled over an old PA system. Laconic and drawling with menace.

Load 'em up, boys and girls. Let's send these slugs back to wherever in hell they came from.

...and the hunt started off with the sound of an elephant gun, fired into the brush.

[OOC: Tagging order is totally open, and setting elements are varied. We fully intend there to be damage to the grounds. [ACTION] style logging is perfectly fine, considering how large a group this is, but prose style works too. Split up or group together! Threadhop and run into others if you want as well.

All of the hunted are outfitted with a tracking Microchip, which was embedded under the skin at the base of the neck, while they were still knocked out. The skin may itch slightly, but otherwise there are no visible signs that it is there. This will not completely nullify powers, but it will make the active use of them excruciatingly painful throughout the nervous system. Safe removal will only be successful by surgery, but the microchips will be deactivated by the end of the hunt.

Spencer will leer and gloat over the hunting grounds PA system, to inform all of his targets that they are fresh game to be hunted down and killed, and that this time, they're going to ensure no newcomer survivors with a 'nasty surprise' at evening siren. He will assure his prey that they have no chance of escape, and that even if they somehow manage to cross the high-voltage fences surrounding the grounds, he has a backup plan to ensure that they don't leave alive.

NVs will remain on your character's person, however wifi will be scrambled beyond the perimeter grounds, and they will not be able to access the newcomer network while on the grounds. They may, however contact each other via NV using voice function as a static-y walkie-talkie. NVs can pick up one another's internal signal at a maximum distance of 200 yards

Spencer himself will be overseeing most of the hunt as game warden from his security room at the lodge on property, where viewing screens show multiple cameras planted around the grounds and on a small fleet of cybernetic flying drones the size of a dragonfly.

At 9am, characters will be released by an automatic latch on their cage doors, into an underground labyrinth of tunnels and traps. They'll have to find each other, as well as forage for limited food and some basic weapons and survival gear, which the hunter will have planted near various traps and snares as 'bait'.

As described on the locations page, the grounds are extensive and the terrain is varied, engineered for a hunter's dream of a playground. Man made, it has elements of forest/jungle, sand traps, caves, a small lake, fields and other hiding places. It also has about 4 stories of underground tunnels, caves, bunkers, rooms with strange settings and endless paths one could take. It may take minutes or hours to run into the other hunted, but we encourage you to play paired in groups for an advantage against the odds. Go wild with playing your way through any setting obstacles you'd like your characters to face!

Spencer's voice will announce time remaining on the hour, over the audio system.

At sunset, Itou Kaiji will find and deactivate the timer which will detonate the release of deadly toxins from all microchips. This clock is located in a small locked shed near the southernmost point of the grounds.

The front gates of the property will be unlocked briefly after the first set of evening sirens, so the hunted and any surviving hunters will have exactly 10 minutes to get out and into the city, or be locked in for an additional overnight fight to survive.

If your character outlasts the hunt and is left to survive the night: The Hunting Grounds are haunted by the darkness mutations of all past game killed there. With the souls of great cats, rare exotic beasts gone savage chimera and former slaves with 'exotic' powers? The grounds are extra treacherous after siren.]

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It had certainly been an interesting night. He had decided he was getting too soft with the teleportation belt, and besides, it was due for a malfunction or something, so he had stored it away. He went with just a pair of pistols and knives to hunt some of the Darkness, after only a little while he had gotten a nasty feeling someone was following him, the shot confirmed it, the tranquillizer was in, and then a couple more, apparently they knew who he was.

Now here he was waiting in a cage, feeling a bit groggy but otherwise fine. It seemed as though he was a new target in one of these hunts he had heard about. This was confirmed with the atypical gloating and talking about how doomed people were. This guy needed a speech writer or something, the material was always so predictable and dry. Blah blah blah, you won't get away, blah blah blah, got a special surprise. If there was always a special surprise, was it really that much of a surprise? No, its more like a predictable twist.

As the doors opened, Deadpool sauntered out, singing a merry tune. There would no doubt be some bad ass mofo's out to get him, maybe they would even kill him, but he'd tried it himself more times then he could remember, and it never worked, if they managed it, good for them. He'd have to find out how they did it.

"In the summer time when the weather is high. You can chase right up and touch the sky! When the weather's right, you got women, you got women on your mind. Have a drink, have a drive, go out and see what you can find"

Trilt had been watching this particular specimen whenever he got the chance. And that was pretty often, considering how much attention said subject seemed to draw to himself. In that sense his behaviour was highly unorthodox for a prey animal. Theorising on the singing, the dancing, and what Trilt had scientifically termed the "larking about" had proved both fascinating and frustrating. Was it an intimidation tactic? Maybe some form of social cohesion stimulation, performed to inspire trust in others, or perhaps to lull them into a false sense of security...

Or maybe he was just bonkers.

Well, time to create a little change of pace in this subject's routine. Trilt purposefully leans his weight on a branch, sending a dry crack through the air as he steps out from the cave opening he had been lurking in. "Enjoying yourself?"

He turned casually around to look at the man who addressed him. It seemed like he wanted to scare him or something. It was usually part of the thrill. There was something about the man's eyes he didn't like, he couldn't quite place his finger on it. It wasn't the whole probably going to kill him, that he was used to.

"Oh you know, may as well enjoy all the hard work of death traps and such put into the place. Haven't been thrown in one of these since I was back home. I mean the lack of robotic drones trying to kill me is a bit off-putting, but its not the theme of the place." He said with a bit of a shrug.

"You're an old hand," Trilt's smile is cold fascination. Talking to the subject increases the statistical likelihood of the 'bonkers' theorem. "Tell me, have you had any experience with temperature manipulation powers before?"

"Oh for sure, back home there was a guy called Iceman, who was all about that stuff. Not to mention more then a few pyromaniacs, I mean fire is fun sure, but they never have weenies or marshmellows on them. Fricking selfish if you ask me. You ever know a guy who could kill you with a peanut?" Deadpool rambled on, pacing a bit. There was a couple of rocks nearby on the ground which might serve.

"I have an allergy."

"You're clearly very capable of talking... let's see - " - leaving the sentence hanging Trilt suddenly lashes out, superheating the air around Deadpool's feet.

He'd heard of hot feet, but not like burning hot feet, that felt like his flesh was coming off. He quickly leapt up and sprung towards the man, he could feel the pumping of his heart, it wasn't the burning which was now bugging him, it was the painfulness of the healing process.

"Bitch move dude, bitch ass move." he said shaking his head.

Trilt takes a hop and a step back as Deadpool lunges at him, chuckling. So the man was a regenerator - a particularly fascinating power. And a particularly unpleasant one when implanted with a chip that made using powers excruciating. "Don't hold it against me. It shouldn't last too long for you, eh?"

"Huh, you know I imagine that is exactly what most women in your life say." he responded laughing. He was quick on the draw for that one. Heh, quick on the draw. He grabbed a nearby rock and came at him with a right hook, followed by aiming the rock at a knee.

"Very - " Trilt doesn't have time to finish the sentiment. He's trained in combat but he's no professional, and there's not much he can do but dodge the hook swing his leg out of the way. The rock still clips his knee, sending a bone-jarring bolt of pain through him. A likely fracture, he thinks through gasping with the shock of it. He pushes that thought aside to focus on stopping Deadpool attacking further with a sudden snap of sub-zero cold, sent right into the air in his lungs.

The feeling of lungs freezing the air in them crystalizing is a painful process, and Deadpool gasps, a breath of cold air coming out of him as he struggles for air. He resists the strong urge to clutch his chest, and instead remains standing out of spite. His rush had been put to a stop for a few moments, and he'd have to wait the excrutiatingly painful time as his body healed itself up.

Trilt's persistent. Usually he'd fight on through the injury until he'd worn his opponent down; but knowing that Deadpool will heal, not knowing if the man has an Achilles Heel that can be exploited to overcome his regeneration, makes him back away. Trilt's persistent, but he's not stupid.

He staggers against the nearest tree, keeping himself turned toward Deadpool and movinging away slowly with a hand on his pistol and a warning minus-five-degree-centigrade breeze aimed at Deadpool's ankles.

He coughs for a little bit while thermometer man was giving him cold ankles, and backing away. Well, there was really only one thing to say and do now.

"H-hello, my name is Inigo Montaya, you k-k-killed my father, prepare to die." he said struggling to move forward, and pushing through the pain, its a very slow walk though, and he is going to keep moving towards him stiffly, like some sort of zombie.

Unfortunately, Trilt has only five fingers on each hand. He does have a gun in one of them, though.

"Shut up", he growls, popping a cap into Deadpool's thigh. A slow motion shuffle chase is not high on his list of objectives tonight.

The pain now is just going to drive him on further. Bullets he was well accustomed to, it was almost like having a friend come visit. A friend which tore through your flesh mercilessly and took out bits of flesh... actually that sounded like most of his friends... probably should get some new ones on that front. He staggers though for a moment, using a tree to get his balance back, he keeps the slow trudge forward.

"Hello. My name is Inigo Montaya, you killed my father... prepare to die" he added with more assurance in his voice.

Inigo Montoya? Well, it was perfectly possible that there was a Montoya among the test subjects that had passed through the lab over the years, but Trilt could hardly be expected to remember. Honestly, just because you're a scientist some people expect you to have the memory of an elephant.

"I'm sorry for your loss", he grits out, firing another round - aimed at the throat this time.

The shot pierces through his throat, but he just sort of makes a hnk sound and keeps going forward. He knew who this guy reminded him of. Old Dr. Killbrew, that bastard. The experiments, the screams of the fellow inmates and the satisfying crunch when he finally snapped that man's neck all raced through Deadpool's head.

"Your such an idiot, watch a movie or something, yeesh. That is, if you live through this. I'd suggest Field of Dreams. If you build it, they will come."

That voice was impossible to miss- and it made Kaiji freeze where he had been huddled in the undergrowth, trying to catch his breath back. A good thing he caught him at that moment, too- any earlier and he'd probably have been too panicked to recognise him and fled. But now that he was feeling a little more in control, it sunk right in; he knew this guy.

Kaiji straightened up, trying to edge closer to him without drawing too much attention to himself in case someone more hostile was nearby. He was no soldier; those clumsy movements probably gave him away in an instant and if he wasn't careful, Deadpool might take him for a hunter trying and failing to sneak up on him. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

He put his hands up in a belated attempt at damage control- if Deadpool had spotted him already, he'd see he wasn't armed. "Don't attack-!"

Whoever was there wasn't really trained in this stuff, and was basically giving themselves away, they were breathing hard, and then whoever it was, trying to be quiet was really only making them noisier. If it was a hunter, it was probably the most inept one in the bunch, and he wasn't particularly worried about it. Once the guy pops up with his hands up, he hurls a knife purposefully narrowly missing him and hitting a tree.

"If I had wanted to, you'd be dead now, just to be clear. You may as well been blaring rap music." he said with a shake of his head. He was blatant and out in the open for a reason, better that he attract attention then other folks.

The hiss of the knife through the air didn't elicit a cry of horror so much as a sudden explosion of expletives. Kaiji fell back against the tree, teeth clamped tightly together to prevent anything else slipping out before he had the shock under control.

"That's one way to make your point, asshole," he managed, shaking his head. There's no malice in his voice; hell, that sounded almost like he was joking or teasing him. One eye on the knife embedded in the trunk, he pushed himself back off the tree and towards Deadpool. "How're you holding up?"

Clearly better than Kaiji was holding up himself but he couldn't help asking anyway. There's genuine concern in there too, although he tried to disguise it.

Edited 2012-08-01 18:37 (UTC)

"You sound familiar, I run into you at some point or another?" he questioned as he strode forward casually to retrieve the knive out of the tree. He turned back for a second taking the knife out of the tree.

"I'm cool, sizing up the place. Pretty decent death maze they got going on here, so figuring stuff out. I'd be careful of stuff you find or that seems too out in the open. I mean finding free pie in the forest is sketchy, but then again it is free pie, and only a fool turns down free pie."

He grabs a branch and sits down a second, and starts using the knife to shape the wood roughly.

If he was a fan of singing, then some time around mid-afternoon Deadpool would probably appreciate the distinct sound of a megaphone echoing out of a nearby bunker.

"If her daddy's rich, take her out for a meal. If her daddy's poor, just do what you feel. Speed along the lane, do a turn or return the twenty five-"

Apparently he had been bringing the song back, who knew. He is going to just trot along and add to the song some more, because that was totally sensible right? Of course it was. You are such a moron.

"When the sun goes down, you can make it, make it good and really fine"

As he moved forward, he felt a little twinge in his foot, something felt off, and he immediately fell back as a few darts went whizzing by his face, close enough to graze across, and leave a little cut, had he been anymore forward that would have gone right into his skull.

"Not bad, not bad."

The song kept on blaring from the nearby megaphone. "With a fat beat, when her daddy's with me-"

More alarming than the darts, really, was the trail of musical notes wafting out of the cracked door to the bunker, pulsing in midair gently to the beat. When one drifted past Deadpool's face, the quarter note twitched in midair and whalloped him hard in the head.

This reminded him of a dream he had once, but instead of music notes, they were Chimichangas, and he couldn't get them. The hit kind of fricking hurt, it reminded him of a cartoon.

"Mother fucker! Its time to start hunting wascally wabbits." he said as he headed towards the bunker.

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[Closed Log] Newcomer Hunt Round 2 at Spencer's Hunting Grounds

Deadpool Open if you can handle the crazy

Sup. Later, somewhere in the forest

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Its a good movie

One of my favourites!

Do you mean it?

Anybody want a peanut?

Inconceivable!

afternoon, forest

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Its a catchy song

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