Endgame

First topic message reminder :

It's been five years. Five goddamn years. Longer, actually, in my case, but Prettyboy and the rest of them have only been experiencing the hell that's become my life since the Hagah Prisonbreak. Oh, how naive Kellin and his merry band of miscreants were, thinking they could just break off a Dark Hunter prison island and escape the consequences. They got Kellin, they got the prisoners...and then they got out.

Everyone's gone. Skarloth and the rest of the old Mahri Nui team are dead, either murdered in that fortress or killed on Hagah. Kellin gave his life trying to prevent the Infection from spreading and failed. Cipher...poor Cipher was thrown off the island and never came back, and I did nothing to stop it.

I remember exactly how it happened. Dorian was hearing voices after he killed Kellin, which didn't give us much hope for his already shaky mental condition. He went to Vezok's old island to try and get some vehicles, and when we got there, we found the six Piraka standing amongst the bodies of mercenaries: all six of them dead, all six of them taken by the Infection. We managed to fight our way out, but they followed the portal and started infecting everything in sight. The more they spread, the fewer people there were left to fight.

I still see the faces: Skarloth, Prettyboy, Riaril, Cipher, Athillion, Troy, and all the others. I haven't seen them in five years, and they're probably all dead at this point. I don't know. Frankly, I'm not even sure whether I care anymore. After ten years of this, I'm starting to wonder whether I care if I'm dead or not...

Welcome to Endgame, the final entry in the Infection Trilogy. It's been a little more than a year that this trilogy has gone on, and since the two games before it, The Forsaken and Prisonbreak, were so wildly popular, I decided to give all your characters a proper ending. Not with Prisonbreak, though; that game had run its course, and Dorian's group was about to escape the island anyway. That, coupled with a need to bring the RPG forum back to life, brought this game to fruition.

Factions

Infected - Zombies, 3/4 of the world's population, led by the six Piraka.

Uninfected - The remaining quarter of the free world. Small resistance groups make up the majority of this faction.

Playable Species

Matoran
Toa
Steltian
Vortixx
Skakdi
Turaga

Staff

Tyler Durden-Host (November 23, 2011-present)
Skarloth-Moderator 1(November 23, 2011-present)
Muscles Glasses-Moderator 2(November 23, 2011-present)
The Shadowed - Moderator 3 (November 23, 2011-present)

Rules

• BZP Rules apply, obviously.
• No god-modding (e.g. controlling someone else's character, having your character do something impossible). And if someone god-mods against you, don't do it back, tell an Endgame Mod.
• This is a Text-Based RPG, so to join in you post what is basically a miniature story for what is currently happening to your character.
• Use IC for In-Character and OOC for Out-Of-Character.
e.g.:
IC: The Toa leapt from ledge to ledge, seeking the rogue Rahi.

OOC: Hey Randommember1, care to join in?
• Don't bunny (meaning control extensively) other peoples characters without their permission.
• Don't kill anothers character without permission.
• Unlimited Characters.
• No silliness such as suddenly turning everyone's swords into feather dusters and having a tickle-off. Believe me, it's not as funny as you think.
• Don't glory hog or continuously degrade someone else's character.
• Along with current restrictions you are not allowed any unreasonable elements (Life, Creation, or Time) and all characters are incapable of performing Nova Blasts. Light and Shadow are allowed, but only if you have a good enough reason deemed fit by a majority of the Prisonbreak mods. Custom species are allowed, but custom elements aren't. Current unusable masks are the Komau, Avohkii, Kraahkan, Mask of Creation, Mask of Elemental Energy, Aki, Rua, or any Kanohi Nuva.

IC: "Get me in on that air convoy too," Arzatan nodded, "I need something to do."

IC: Hualn shrugged, blades of wind jetting upwards with the slight movement. "Sure." He didn't really care who tagged along.

The Grazonurus began to float towards the door. Where'd I leave the Letoran, again?

IC: Arzatan quietly followed Hualn, clutching his greatsword.

Just because he felt more comfortable clutching his greatsword.

IC: Hualn led Artazan up through the base. After traversing several stories, they walked right to a set of closed double doors labelled 'H'.

The little warrior merely grabbed both doors and slammed each open wide with a blast of air. The Grazonurus then trundled in.

It was the hangar for the forces. Pitifully small though it was, Artazan could count at least eight attack helicopters, a few bombers, several fighter jets, and two cargo planes. A few mechanics of different races were working on some of the helis, which looked to have some damage from small-arms fire.

Hualn, however, did not head for any of the mechanics. He instead floated to another set of double doors labelled 'B'.

Swinging the doors open with the same force as he previously used, the former mercenary called: "HEADS UP!"

The various members of the resistance air force looked up from their relaxation time in the barracks. Artazan could see a few who had been playing poker, chips still on their table, and a few who had been drinking what little alcohol they were allowed.

"We got another mission," the small leader stated, ignoring the indifferent looks on his crews' faces. "It's to bring a ton 'o' ammo 'n' some missiles o'er to a friend of Dorian's on Xia."

The force perked up collectively. They may have been tired of running missions-especially when they had to play the cavalry for half the Mata Nui-forsaken army-but they always could sympathize with one of their own. Dorian was a great guy and for many, the reason they had come there. It didn't hurt that the mission sounded relatively easy, too.

"Air crews one-two-three-eleven-fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-eighteen-nineteen-twenty, head to the flight deck in one hour! You will be taking along one passenger-," here Hualn motioned to Artazan, "But otherwise this is all stand proc!"

The little leader turned and trundled out. "You have one hour as well," he said to Artazan, just in case the skakdi wasn't sure.

He then stopped for a second to watch the activity within the hangar. Yes, the flight crews were already heading there to get the various planes and copters of the crews going on the mission out on deck.

They're good boys. They don't look it, but they're good boys, all right.

The Grazonurus floated off, out of the hangar. They didn't need his attention right now. Someone else did.

whOOSH

IC (Xian streets):

"False reality?" returned Nova, his voice turning ice-cold as if he had absorbed all the heat out of his tone. "That's funny. I didn't know life was false."

The door to the armory loomed before them, ten feet tall and thankfully devoid of any guards. Xia had refused to manufacture weapons unless the Infected backed off. The Infected had backed off, all right -- backed off only to the outskirts of the cities where they could keep a close eye on everything. But the Vortixx had their money, they had their safety and privacy, and so they said fine, just pay us and we'll keep making stuff for you.

Hopefully that meant they weren't too concerned about rebels taking their own stuff.

Nova moved up to the door and pushed.

OOC: If Castor knows of any security measures around the armory, have him stop Nova; otherwise, consider the door open.

IC: Arzatan nodded, with that small motion making it clear that he understood. His eyes locked on a tankard of beer that the crew left behind for a second, but only another second later, he chose to ignore the temptation and instead followed the mass of people into the largest piece of aircraft, because for some reason the word "plane" didn't quite fit the description in his head, that was there.

IC: The other people on the crew acknowledged Arzatan with nods and grunts. To them, a passenger was only one more mouth to feed until it proved itself.

The people on the plane had left one folding seat with a belt up and not sat in it. It was old and ragged, but it was really all Arzatan had to sit in. At least his spot wasn't in between a few crates.



Nearly an hour later, Hualn floated back into the hangar. All the aircraft going on the mission were out by this time, so he made his way out into the light beyond.

Two cargo planes, one bomber, three fighter jets, and three letorans-attack helis-greeted his sight. A sunny day, he absently noted as he trundled towards the letoran labelled '1'.

Once inside, he got into the pilot's seat right next to his copilot/gunner and called out into the intercom: "ALL PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR IN ALL CREWS?"

"YES!," came the thundering reply.

"AFFIRMATIVE!," he shouted, not even noticing how loud his own voice was.

"IGNITE!"

The engines of the small air fleet sparked to action as one. The roar of helicopters and jet engines crashed into Artazan's ears and remained there, pounding against it in a constant ebb and flow.

"ALL CLEAR?"

"YES!"

"GO!"

The helis began to lift off their pads as the planes began to roll down their runways. Arzatan felt the movement beneath him of the plane beginning to roll, its nose lifting slightly-

-And then the thing was in the air completely, and the convoy was flying, fighter jets acting as a vanguard while the helis were the rear guard and the bomber sat between the cargo planes.

"TO XIA!," cried Hualn from his position in the back.

"AFFIRMATIVE!," thundered back the crews as one.