capemods: (Default)
capemods ([personal profile] capemods) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2013-10-29 03:16 am

EARTH 24*(&A$%7HGKPOI

WHO: All transdimensional imPorts.
WHERE: The town of Capers.
WHEN: October 29th, dawn until noon.
WARNINGS: Definitely violence, but alert me if something else evolves and I can update this.
SUMMARY: After spending a few days in the town of Capers, Metamen move to strike against all targeted imPorts in a big dusty showdown.
FORMAT: As you please!



It looked like pearls had scarred the sky, when dawn broke. The crisp air cut through the easing night before the sun had its chance to bake the earth again; another day in the bold, bright west. If you are [1] mulling about, between bars or inns, if you're finding your way home from a bitter experience from the south or if you're dancing out of a fiendishly fun hall, you'll be the first to encounter your metaman. You might make eye contact, they might be stalking your shadow -- however it plays out, flip a coin to determine who shoots first. If it's heads, it's you. If it's tails, then you're on the defense.

If you're [2] sleeping like a healthy individuals, you'll be roused by a sound in your room. Your metaman has hunted your down and snuck into your living quarters -- it's vital that you draw the battle outside, into the open. Flip a coin -- if it's heads, then you're bound to injure at least one NPC in your struggle. If it's tails, then you lure out the metaman without grievous commotion.

Once you've established the attack, that's when you plan your showdown. You can fight with others in duos or groups. As long as your metaman CAN fight, they WILL follow you, even into other characters's battles. You can finish your fight and help out other imPorts, too. You can kill your metaman, or you can capture them -- if the latter happens, you won't get much out of them aside from the knowledge that Vulcanus knew the imPorts would be here, and they had assigned metaman agents to eliminate troublesome imPorts.

You might question this. It isn't Vulcanus's style, to pull such blatant punches -- even if natives and Vulcanus agents eat up that kind of "us versus them" rhetoric. But the metamen won't know the bigger picture, they're only pawns upon a board.

The locals of Capers can die. But do you really want them to?

Feel free to choose from these adventure prompts, which can happen at the start of your showdown, or after the showdown has begun:

[A]
Your metaman has caught you in the westward district. They've lured you into an abandoned dance hall, and they're attacking you from the audience. Wood splinters, glass shatters -- and you've got an entire showroom to stage your battle. Dressing rooms house backstage, the rudimentary catwalk looms above. Careful about the curtain call!
[B]
Having drawn you out eastward, your metaman thinks it's a good idea to go about attacking Town Hall. THAT'S WHERE MAYOR EISNER IS! Your metaman probably thinks you'll run through these hallowed wooden halls trying to save innocents from a gruesome death. Then again, Eisner did dictate your entire life based on a color choice...
[C]
Welcome to the darkened stables and pens that the corrals hold -- grunting dinosaurs snarl and hiss in the bleary dawn. You know your metamen is lurking here, hiding, waiting for you to drop your guard. You saw them come this way. Maybe they're thinking of using the barricades dinosaurs against you? This is the southward district, and not all of the captive dinos are herbivores.
[D]
Hey! You're northward! This is like the easiest, safest district to work in, whatever was your metaman thinking? There's like no way to break your game down and out and-- OH MY GOD YOU'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MINOR METEORITE SHOWER THAT SEEMS TO ONLY BE AFFECTING THIS ONE BRANCH OF TOWN! The medical center just EXPLODED in a million splinters. Now you have to fight as meteorites rain down upon you in an orangeglow of burnished, lethal glory.
[E]
Well shit. You just brought your battle into a velociraptor nest. There are about TWENTY of these ravenous jerks, ranging from juveniles to fully equipped adults.
[F]
Player's unique choice!

IF YOU REJECTED YOUR CAPERS ROLE THEN
You're going to have local Capers lawmen up in arms with your metaman. Chances are, the latter has convinced the good people of Capers that you're a menace to society! A menace! They came with metal shackles! And they're riding angry dinosaurs!

IF YOU HAD A SERVICE ROLE which includes saloon worker, dino express rider, bartender, cowherd, merchant, mineral miner, railroad engineer, dance hall performer THEN
You flip a coin. If heads, then a fleet of stegosaurus infants will stampede between you and your metaman. If tails, then those infants will lead an ADULT stegosaurus right at you! And she is PISSED OFF.

IF YOU HAD AN AUTHORITY ROLE which includes deputy sheriff, gaoler, us marshall, pinkerton agent, railroad baron/ess, army scout, schoolmarm, hanging judge, town doctor, town barber THEN
You flip a coin. If heads, then a group of compsognathus will mistake your face for a lizard lunch, and try to consume it. If tails, then you will magnificently leap upon the backs of that compsognathus groups and hilariously ride to victory against your nemesis metaman.

IF YOU HAD AN INDEPENDENT ROLE which includes gambler, cowboy/girl, farmer, prospector, hired gun/mercenary, pioneer, snakeoil salesman, homesteader, town drunk, bounty hunter, drifter THEN
Flips a coin. If heads, then that roar you hear in the distance? It's a hungry tyrannosaurus rex headed in your direction. If tails, then it's TWO hungry tyrannosaurs rex adults, and they're battling each other over who gets to eat you.

Take heed, imPort: this battle has the spinal cord outlined, but you're free to flesh out any conflicts more to your liking. Once the high noon sun burns onto the ground, you'll be ported back into the City -- along with any (sizable) dinosaur that might hitch a ride.
guestlectures: (rageing)

[C] Narrative - open to rescue!

[personal profile] guestlectures 2013-10-29 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Hiding in an empty stall Alana can hear screams, shouts, the noise of breaking wood, and pistols being fired outside the stable. In her brief flight from the boarding house she had rooms in to the stable she hadn't had have time to take in any details - she can't even think about the bodies of the innkeeper and his wife that she scrambled past in the doorway. Paralyzed with fear, all she can focus on is-

"Come out, come out, wherever your are..."

The thin, buzzing voice seems to come from everywhere at once. The slow footsteps are probably on the other side of the stall wall. Any moment the gentle huff of sleeping dinosaurs is going to be broken with a buzzing laugh and out of every shadow the- the thing will jump out at her, as it had in her room not five minutes ago.

Her pistol is in one shaking hand, the other is over her mouth. Her heart is pounding in her ears and she knows, she knows that she has to move soon before the man-thing gets close enough to vomit at her again.

There's no room for rational thought in the darkness of the town stables. The FBI-affiliate training she received never covered this. The short practice she had with the pistol gives her no confidence that she'll hit anything from more than six feet away. The trembling shaking her gives her no hope that she'll hit anything at all.

Clear as the day they arrived, the memory of Chilton's slighly drunk, rather panicked voice comes to her - What if we die here, what then?

What then?

The sound of splintering wood makes her jump, only the hand over her mouth keeps her from screaming. A dinosaur squeals and the sound is abruptly cut off.

"Don't make me wait, you little whore~" the voice continues, followed by more splintering wood. She needs to move now.

Quietly as she can, Alana peers around the edge of stall. Nothing. She can't hear anything either. No footsteps, no buzzing. She can see a clear path to the street. If she's fast, she can get help-

"There you are!"

The fear that had paralysed her before moves her in time to avoid most of the bile that hits where she'd been hiding. Alana gets to her feet, still unable to see the man-thing. The path to the door is clear so she runs-

Something slams into her side, shrieking with glee. An iron hand grabs her arm and holds her tight. Another hand reaches for her neck. Glassy eyes and a manic, curious grin come into focus. "Now hold still, dear. This is really going to hurt-" The hand around her throat squeezes, tightening as the grin widens.

Alana chokes out a scream, kicking and shoving her hands in his face because she can't die here, she refuses to die here in the darkness of a stable and the hand frantically pushing his face burns hot and she's fallen to the ground. Alana crawls backwards until she finds a wall then turns, gun pointed directly towards her attacker.

The insect-man-thing is swaying unsteadily on his feet. "You bitch-" he manages, voice slurring as he leans on the closest stall for support. "What've you done t'm-"

The bullet in his shoulder topples him. The need to vomit has Alana's hands shaking nearly uncontrollably, but she has both hands on the pistol now, rising to her own unsteady feet. The insect-man swears at her again, the buzzing accent growing stronger and more vehement as it struggles to get upright.

The next bullet knocks his head back, and Alana can't keep track after that as she pulls the trigger over and over until the recognizes the clicking of the empty chamber. The thing doesn't move.

Stumbling as far away from the body as she can, she drops to her knees and throws up, retching until her throat is sore and her breath comes in gasps. Her limbs are trembling beyond her control.

Shock, she thinks. Her first rational thought in minutes. It hasn't even been ten minutes. I'm in shock. I need help. I need medical assistance.

She trips on her way to the stable door, vomits again as she lands on her hands and knees. Her vision is blurring. She knows it's only a few feet to the stable door, and beyond that there'll be someone.

There has to be someone.

[ooc: Alana's been given an illness from her metaman.]
osreborn: (can't deal with this bullshit.)

[personal profile] osreborn 2013-10-31 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
It's been some time since Norman finished with his own metaman; by now he's walked off most of his wounds, staggering a little only from the dinosaur encounter that had followed the battle itself. But it was okay, he was okay. His clothes were torn, leg was bleeding -- bite marks, still healing -- and his face was splattered with raw patches of skin where the acid had struck him, but that was the visible extent of it.

He's not going anywhere in particular, looking perhaps for tools with which to help immobilize a small dinosaur further with, when he passes by the stables and overhears, faintly, noise from within. Determining the noises to be human rather than dinosaur, Norman decides to investigate.

"Oh." He recognizes this woman. "Well, you don't look so well."
guestlectures: (pausing)

[personal profile] guestlectures 2013-11-04 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
Alana doesn't feel particularly well either, especially not well enough to snark at a comment which (she feels) is practically a given. It's a moment before she can focus on who exactly is talking to her.

"Osborn? God-" Later, she will be rather embarrassed to have the head of the most reputable psychiatric hospital around find her like this. At the moment, she's just relieved the approaching footsteps weren't someone else who wanted to kill her. "I need a doctor- I think. I've been poisoned."
osreborn: (bad news.)

[personal profile] osreborn 2013-11-04 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Poisoned?"

His eyebrows raise and he moves closer, inspecting her through narrowed eyes even though he definitely isn't a doctor himself. He knows a thing or two about biology and poison, though, so if he can get a look at her he may as well. Anything's possible.

"Let me help you up," he offers, reaching a hand out as he watches her. "What are your symptoms?"
guestlectures: (pausing)

[personal profile] guestlectures 2013-11-06 09:53 am (UTC)(link)
Alana extends an unsteady hand up to him.

"Nausea. Dizziness, double vision," she stops herself, putting a hand over her mouth. She'd just killed man. "It- he- it spat some kind of bile at me."
osreborn: (dumb it down.)

[personal profile] osreborn 2013-11-07 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
When she takes his hand he moves closer, putting his other hand against her back to stabilize her. He can relate in a way, but the effect of the venom his opponent had doused him with has already almost worn off through his healing abilities.

"Here, sit down," he says, trying to lead her outside to the steps. "You ought to at least drink some water. You know, flush out your systems."