In a galaxy filled with an innumerable amount of greedy beings, each trying to get a leg up on the competition in pretty much any field, spoiled rich kids are a dime-a-dozen. And if you really get down to the heart of the matter, they all act the same. They all have a sense of entitlement, like they had earned the things that their ancestors, recent or otherwise, had worked so hard to earn. Privileged lifestyles had a funny way of doing that to people. To add to the problem, their parents remained oblivious to just how rotten their kids had become, still catering to their every desire, still beckoning at their every whim, still stifling them with every kind of attention except for the kind that actually mattered—spending time with them personally.
Richard Summers was a billionaire, reaching ever-so-steadily into the coveted right of being a trillionaire. This was the natural course of events for a businessman such as he—being one of the first human businessmen to branch out into space was just icing on the cake. Everything that he had he had earned through hard labor and by the fruits of his golden tongue, one that he used often. After all, what self-respecting “alien” would pay attention to some idiot human who couldn’t string together a sentence, much less a business deal? And like any other businessman, Richard grew tired of the bachelor lifestyle and tried to build his own family. His wife, Karen, birthed him two wonderful children, Keith and Julia, and to him, he could not have been happier.
He carried that sentiment to his grave.
The doctors couldn’t determine the cause of death. There were no external wounds, and the check-up he had just completed two months earlier suggested that he still had a few more decades to go before he could even consider kicking the bucket. The official word was that he died in his sleep, and that a blood clot in his brain that they had failed to see earlier had suddenly burst. To add to the tragedy, Karen Summers followed her husband to the afterlife a week later, succumbing to an unknown disease that, again, the doctors had failed to notice. There was definitely something fishy about it, but nobody really paid attention to it. Nobody had a reason to suspect foul play, because the true spectacle ensued immediately afterward—there was still the question of how this massive fortune would be split up.
The common consensus was that everything was to go to their kids, and although it was technically true, there was a distinction that had to be made during the hearing: everything, all the money, every possession, went to Keith. Julia was not even mentioned in the will. Again, nobody paid any attention to it because…well, any ill word would have seemed mistimed in the wake of such a horrific accident. Besides, Keith had taken his sister in, and she was still a beneficiary of that massive accumulation of wealth. It was just in a surprisingly indirect way.
“So…here it is,” Keith muttered as his friend, Lance, inspected the massive door standing in front of them. “This is the product of two thousand, five hundred, and fifty-two hours of my time and billions of dollars worth of resources.”
“…what is it, again?” Lance couldn’t even pry his eyes away from it. “You weren’t very specific in the chat.”
“This is what I call a ‘graphic simulator,’” Keith could feel his glasses fogging up just at the thought of it. “This is cutting edge technology right here, my friend. No, this is more. This is our future.”
“What does it do?”
“It artificially creates any sort of environment that I choose. There’s a pretty complex control panel in a secluded room within the system. A friend of mine helped me set this up,” the boy explained, pride welling up from deep inside. “I remember you saying one time that you wished you could have been a character in Swordwalker. This is pretty much as close as you can get, right here.”
“Bladerunner,” Lance corrected him. “And there was pretty much just that one time. I only remember ever having met you at one of my dad’s parties. Come to think of it, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to come over.”
“How was it getting onto the grounds, by the way?” Keith inquired.
“It was simple enough. Your house is the only thing within a three-mile radius, or so it seems,” the dark-skinned boy shrugged. “It was harder just making it to Earth. Not a whole lot of shuttles coming out here anymore.”
“What can I say,” Keith smirked. “I like being secluded.”
“I’d say so,” his friend began to scratch his head. “Where’s your sister, by the way? Isn’t she supposed to be living with you?”
“Jules? She’s, uh…” Summers looked around, suddenly nervous, though Lance didn’t pick up on it. “She’s inside, playing the game.”
“Oh, it’s already on?” Lance’s demeanor brightened. “Mind if I take a look inside?”
“Of course, I’ve already made you part of the administration. You should have everything you need to sign in—Mixie will assist you,” Keith ushered him inside the door, brushing aside the questions that he spouted. Smiling and nodding his head politely, the trillionaire closed the door shut, and sighed when it was closed, rolling his eyes. “Stupid tool. Always with the questions…”
He shook his head and stepped to the side, knocking on the wall in all the right places to reveal the edges of a hidden door beside the main one. Inside was the control room he spoke of—many of the machines housed inside required no attention whatsoever, they just powered the machine with their various parts and pieces. The only machine that he needed to be at was the control panel, where he would spend most of his time manipulating the events that would follow. In the furthest region of the room sat his mechanical creations, which he had built on the side along with his friend. All of which were programmed with an extensive list of names and places that Keith had acquired after bribing the right officials and doing months of research. Some of them were participants in different shows of interest—the main ones being Dante’s Abyss and Friend or Foe—and others were named as potential figures of interests by those shadowy figures that were “in-the-know.” He even had to strike up a deal with some pretty suspect people in order to get secret access to the afterlife, as some of his prospects had died some time ago. Keith didn’t particularly care about how the names were compiled, or even who they were; he just needed for them to be obtained for his own personal use.
Clicking a few buttons, the robots sprang to life, and went about their business—just as they were programmed to do. Upon thinking of all the possibilities to come, Keith couldn’t help but creep a smile upon his face.
The Gamer had just invented the perfect game.
Richard Summers was a billionaire, reaching ever-so-steadily into the coveted right of being a trillionaire. This was the natural course of events for a businessman such as he—being one of the first human businessmen to branch out into space was just icing on the cake. Everything that he had he had earned through hard labor and by the fruits of his golden tongue, one that he used often. After all, what self-respecting “alien” would pay attention to some idiot human who couldn’t string together a sentence, much less a business deal? And like any other businessman, Richard grew tired of the bachelor lifestyle and tried to build his own family. His wife, Karen, birthed him two wonderful children, Keith and Julia, and to him, he could not have been happier.
He carried that sentiment to his grave.
The doctors couldn’t determine the cause of death. There were no external wounds, and the check-up he had just completed two months earlier suggested that he still had a few more decades to go before he could even consider kicking the bucket. The official word was that he died in his sleep, and that a blood clot in his brain that they had failed to see earlier had suddenly burst. To add to the tragedy, Karen Summers followed her husband to the afterlife a week later, succumbing to an unknown disease that, again, the doctors had failed to notice. There was definitely something fishy about it, but nobody really paid attention to it. Nobody had a reason to suspect foul play, because the true spectacle ensued immediately afterward—there was still the question of how this massive fortune would be split up.
The common consensus was that everything was to go to their kids, and although it was technically true, there was a distinction that had to be made during the hearing: everything, all the money, every possession, went to Keith. Julia was not even mentioned in the will. Again, nobody paid any attention to it because…well, any ill word would have seemed mistimed in the wake of such a horrific accident. Besides, Keith had taken his sister in, and she was still a beneficiary of that massive accumulation of wealth. It was just in a surprisingly indirect way.
“So…here it is,” Keith muttered as his friend, Lance, inspected the massive door standing in front of them. “This is the product of two thousand, five hundred, and fifty-two hours of my time and billions of dollars worth of resources.”
“…what is it, again?” Lance couldn’t even pry his eyes away from it. “You weren’t very specific in the chat.”
“This is what I call a ‘graphic simulator,’” Keith could feel his glasses fogging up just at the thought of it. “This is cutting edge technology right here, my friend. No, this is more. This is our future.”
“What does it do?”
“It artificially creates any sort of environment that I choose. There’s a pretty complex control panel in a secluded room within the system. A friend of mine helped me set this up,” the boy explained, pride welling up from deep inside. “I remember you saying one time that you wished you could have been a character in Swordwalker. This is pretty much as close as you can get, right here.”
“Bladerunner,” Lance corrected him. “And there was pretty much just that one time. I only remember ever having met you at one of my dad’s parties. Come to think of it, I was pretty surprised when you asked me to come over.”
“How was it getting onto the grounds, by the way?” Keith inquired.
“It was simple enough. Your house is the only thing within a three-mile radius, or so it seems,” the dark-skinned boy shrugged. “It was harder just making it to Earth. Not a whole lot of shuttles coming out here anymore.”
“What can I say,” Keith smirked. “I like being secluded.”
“I’d say so,” his friend began to scratch his head. “Where’s your sister, by the way? Isn’t she supposed to be living with you?”
“Jules? She’s, uh…” Summers looked around, suddenly nervous, though Lance didn’t pick up on it. “She’s inside, playing the game.”
“Oh, it’s already on?” Lance’s demeanor brightened. “Mind if I take a look inside?”
“Of course, I’ve already made you part of the administration. You should have everything you need to sign in—Mixie will assist you,” Keith ushered him inside the door, brushing aside the questions that he spouted. Smiling and nodding his head politely, the trillionaire closed the door shut, and sighed when it was closed, rolling his eyes. “Stupid tool. Always with the questions…”
He shook his head and stepped to the side, knocking on the wall in all the right places to reveal the edges of a hidden door beside the main one. Inside was the control room he spoke of—many of the machines housed inside required no attention whatsoever, they just powered the machine with their various parts and pieces. The only machine that he needed to be at was the control panel, where he would spend most of his time manipulating the events that would follow. In the furthest region of the room sat his mechanical creations, which he had built on the side along with his friend. All of which were programmed with an extensive list of names and places that Keith had acquired after bribing the right officials and doing months of research. Some of them were participants in different shows of interest—the main ones being Dante’s Abyss and Friend or Foe—and others were named as potential figures of interests by those shadowy figures that were “in-the-know.” He even had to strike up a deal with some pretty suspect people in order to get secret access to the afterlife, as some of his prospects had died some time ago. Keith didn’t particularly care about how the names were compiled, or even who they were; he just needed for them to be obtained for his own personal use.
Clicking a few buttons, the robots sprang to life, and went about their business—just as they were programmed to do. Upon thinking of all the possibilities to come, Keith couldn’t help but creep a smile upon his face.
The Gamer had just invented the perfect game.
Quote:Oooookay. Kill Town. Glad you guys could make it.
Basically, your first task is to lose a fight. Roleplay that in this thread. Minimum 300 words. You know the drill. Whether you fight one robot or twenty, I’ll need you to roleplay losing to these machines and being taken away to Kill Town. The robots can look like anything you want, and when you get to Kill Town, your characters will wake up inside the program and unable to get out. The area that you will be starting in and play the game in is the theme park/carnival, which is described in the “Things You Need to Know” thread.
As you will be stolen, transportation costs are…well, nothing. It’s free, so there you go.
Sign-ups extend from now until Friday, March 5th at 11:59 PM EST (all times from now on will be EST). I’ll allow some late entries, but only for outstanding and unavoidable reasons.
Thank you guys for joining, and I hope you’ll have fun.