You wake from sitting on the mountainside of an erupting volcano, and a series of horrifying dreams with no burns, or scars, or smell of smoke about you.  The alley between warehouse like buildings is night-dark, and the smell of Chinese food is good.  Distant revving of engines and the barking of dogs enlivens the night.

Playtester

Lying still on my back for several seconds, I try and make sense of what just happened.  "Perhaps it was a dream?  Maybe it was all a dream and I'm about to wake up."  Opening my eyes I stare up at the blackened sky above, the edges of buildings blocking most of my view.  Taking in a deep breath I once again begin the laboriuos challenge of gaining my bearings and trying to figure out where I am and what the heck has happened to me.

Pushing myself to my feet, I try and stand, shaky now and still reeling from the vivid experiences of the past few minutes.  With as clear a mind as I can muster I gaze up and down the alley, trying to get an idea of how I should proceed next.

"Alright Derek, this has to be some strange joke, maybe some really awful food you ate, at the worst I've been mugged and had some really bad dreams.  Get yourself together and get back home, you can do this."  I lift a hand and touch my head, wiping a bit of sweat off if it, likely caused from the strange dreams.

You do feel like you are missing something off to your right which would lead you out of the alley.  A siren blares for a few seconds.

PT

The siren clangs loudly in my ears and hurts my head.  Bringing my other hand up I put both palms over my ears in an attempt to block out the sound of the loud wail.  With very little information to go on I use my gut instinct and head to the right, hoping to at least get out of the alley and see what part of the city I've woken up in.

"Alright, don't ever remember a siren in the city, perhaps I'm down by the waterfront, could be why that horn is blaring."  Keeping my palms on my ears I lightly jog off to the right.

You head out of the alley, and see a large quadrangle in front of you, about the size of three football fields.  On it is parked dozens of tanks with red stars on them.  In the midst is huge flagpole with an American flag on top, and a red flag underneath it.

The quadrangle is surrounded by a running track, and that is surrouned by at least a hundred warehouse like buildings, each a free-standing structure.

To your right, about a hundred feet away you can see a tall fence with razor wire atop it, and guards at the gate which gate leads onto a road.  And that road leads to the shadowy structure of a bridge, huge bridge, and looking on further you can see the Empire State Building all lit up in dazzling array.

Playtester

As the sight of the rows and rows of tanks comes into view, I start to feel dizzy, my head whirling from the disorientation of what I am seeing.  "Get yourself together man, there has to be some explanation for this..."  With the blare of the siren still echoing in my head I lower my hands and use just one to peer out across the quadrangle at the flags in the distance.

"That doesn't look like the Chinese flag, too many stars, in fact I'm not sure of any country with a flag like that."  With a tiny shake of my head I look back down the alley, searching for some sort of doorway that I might enter through in an attempt to gain a little more information without putting myself out in the open.  "This doesn't doesn't look like a place I want to be right now.  Come on Derek, figure this out."

There's two flags up on the pole.

You look down the alley for a door.

Sounds like a time for a GE roll of 3d10 which I explained in teh volcano thread.

"19" "Not thwarting but generally unfavorable result" according to the book.

You go down the alley a bit, and spot a door, but about a dozen heavy plastic garbage cans, some with bags of empty metal food cans visible, block your path to the doorway.  You'll have to move at least five of them to get to the door at all.  That's the only door in this alley.

At the end of the alley is a twenty foot tall fence with razor wire atop it.

Playtester

Having not seen anyone yet, I wander down the alley, inspecting the walls and finding a place where I might be able to get inside.  The sound of several bags of rattling cans is a bit of a deterrent and I make one last check up and down the alley before 'testing' a bag by lifting it as slowly as possible, in an attempt to keep the noise to a minimum.  "There's no way I can make it over that fence.  I enjoy climbing, just not over barb wire."  Holding my breath I begin to lift the first bag, hoping I can do it silently but willing to find another plan if the bags are going to be too loud.

This seems the time for a Simple Attribute check.  Since you have below average strength we'll go with 1@4 (1@5 is pretty much Avg. for all Base Attributes for Humanity). For taking it careful, we'll situation mod it -5.  Roll 2d20 for "7" which is less than 19 so you get it.

You carefully move the cans, making only little jingling noises, and by the time you're done, your arms shake, and your nerves keep insisting someone has to be coming around the corner right, right, right...now. But nobody does.

Getting to the door, you (GE 14) you find it is shut but not locked.  Easing it open and wincing at the creak noise, you see a dark room with huge shapes beyond in the shadows. It smells like an auto mechanics shop.

Playtester

My muscles ache from the extertion of trying to lift the bags of cans without making much noise.  The pain isn't from the weight, but from the tension of expecting to be noticed at any moment.  Taking in a deep breath I let out a silent exhalation of air, trying to blow out some of the stress that I am feeling.

With the door slightly ajar I peer inside the room, the shadows of large objects scattered around the inside of the building.  "Well at least there's no one here, and the lights are out."  The reassurance is weak but all I can really cling to in this situation.  I glance around to check for security cameras first, not wanting to set off any alarms once I make my way inside.

OOC:  I don't really understand how those rolls worked, is there somewhere I can check out how that ended up the way it did?

You can get a Multiverser Rulebook from Valdron Press.  I'm not sure if their web site is up and functioning now or not.

And I can try to explain it a bit more.

1@4=14 like 1@2 would equal 12, and so forth.
A simple attribute check, if needed, is done on a roll of 2d20. Less than or equal to the attribute is the target number.
The referee can make situation modifiers because he thinks the situation is especially easy or hard.  These can be anywhere from -1 to -40 to +1 to +40 or so.
You were specifically taking your time so I gave that a -5 which made it easier to get under the 14.  You rolled a "12" which is pretty good for 2d20, and then take away five and you get seven.

Clear as mud? I'm not the best at explaining this, partially because I'm not a rules type, but I'll try.

Now lets roll a GE roll for security cameras and the like. Which is quite likely. 1,2, and 7 (you were on track for finding the cameras all broken, but then a 7 and no such luck); still a ten is good.

IC: You slip in and see the security cameras in the corner of the room, but its scanning to the left of you, and you're able to sneak out of its view and close the door and hide under a tank before it swings back to you.

You find a bottle under the tank by bumping it, and your nose confirms that its cheap alcohol.

The tank's underplate is removed, and its right tread is off as well. A number of tools are scattered underneath the machine.

Playtester

The details of where I am was slowly falling together, the puzzle forming incrementally in my mind.  "An American flag with another country's underneath; tanks and army barracks; barb wire fences.  Obviously I'm in some sort of compound, although what country would be working together with the United States in this capacity?"  The thoughts rolled around, occasionaly forming important concepts although usually a tangled mess.  "Russia perhaps?  Maybe I've ended up in the middle of some classified sector of the military"

My eyes glanced out from underneath the tank, trying to gauge the timing of the camera just right in case I need to make a quick escape out of here.

Then with a turn of my head I crawl quietly out to the other side of the tank, trying to get a feel for the size of the building I'm in and whether there might be another exit, or perhaps a room with a radio or television where I can find some information on where I am.

OOC:  Yeah that seems to make a bit more sense.  Ive actually never heard of Multiverser before, it seems very intriguing.

You slip out of the front of the tank, and count about a dozen tanks in the space as you head over to the break room.  Inside, the shabby space of the breakroom, with your feet going squick on the sticky floor as you walk, you see a flatscreen tv, and a lamp and a switch on the wall, and there's some stacks of stuff on a desk.

OOC: Well, I like MV, I think, primarily because of the expanse of stories it lets you tell. I liked Champions and White Wolf and D&D but they limited you to certain types of stories.  Here I'm doing three very different SF worlds, and one non-SF with Malachai (Not going to give more hints than that, yet), and likely next will be some oddly magical worlds, and some other stuff.

Your character might be the first that gets versed out as his world is very dangerous, although the others are not havens of safety either to be sure. I personally like running dangerous worlds.  Other GM's prefer more, ah, realistic or normal ones, but I'm a bit bloodthirsty.

One of my previous players told me he liked MV because it enabled realistic consequences.  The GM did not have to pull punches to spare characters.

Playtester

With every squeaking sound of my feet I inwardly wince, dreading that I might be found out at any moment.  With a dry mouth and a steadily increasing heart rate I slip inside the break room.  The television would be the best bet for information although the light could be a dead giveaway that there is someone inside the building.  The safest bet is certainly the papers.  With one last quick check to be sure that no one is looking I grab a handful of the papers and slip behind the desk, keeping out of the way of anyone who might be dropping by quickly for a security check.  "Alright, let's get a good look at what we're dealing with here..."

OOC: I'm a huge fan of deadly scenarios where every step could be life or death, that is as long as there is SOME chance of actually making it out alive.  The lethal nature makes me have to think like a real person would think in those situations.  I'm really enjoying this scenario, let's hope I don't get 'versed' too quickly!

I'm going to go take a look what the MV rules set might cost me online.

I am guessing that the character generation, character sheets etc are all much more in depth then the run down you gave me.  I don't mind throwing something up that is loosely based on rules, but I know some players would have a hard time making a character without a lot of structure to guide them.

You grab the plastic sheets, and slip under the desk, and then right about the time you realize you can't read them, they glow.  There are four computer screens it seems in your hands, each like a laminated thickly sheet of paper.  Each has a variety of photo-quality pictures on it, along with Kanji script running up and down the page.  The pictures are of tank parts.

You also note a button on the screens that says "English".

Playtester

Quickly touching the 'English' button, I try and sift through the high tech readers for any sign of where I am or what this place is.  "Quite the fancy bit of technology."  My eyes flick back and forth across the text looking for anything that might be helpful.

You flick through the data quite quickly finding that the system is based on Windows, but with a much more advanced version.  There's also some brand-new menus including "Security; Threats; Reports".

You are at the "Chinese-American Friendship Base" in New Jersey.
And evidently you are assumed to be Tech Captain Chiang Lu.  He is supposed to get the whole tank unit up to at least drivability in preparation for the Peace Parade in one weeks time.

There's a lot of files that you evidently are responsible for.  A lot of them strikes you as the sort of thing an E3 could handle, and another large group are reports on activities by the people under you, and around you focusing abnormally on suspicious behavior.

And there's some requests that you have to send to higher command for approval that seem quite basic decisions to you, and not the sort of thing that a Colonel need bother himself with.

And then a window pops up.

"TC Chiang. Your ten minute check is now active. Please enter your daily security code. The Committe for the Protection of the Peace thanks you for your cooperation."

Playtester

Throughout the entire time of sifting through the information in front of me, I shake my head slowly, thoroughly confused at what my eyes are seeing.  "What's happened to me?  This can't be real and yet here I am."  Then the console flashes, a request for a password bleeping out in front of me.

"Woah, alright time to get out of here."  Gathering the sheets together, I place them back on the table with the intents of heading back out into the depot and finding another door to make my way out of.  "Clearly I need to find someone and explain my presence here, sneaking around is going to do me no good."

My eyes are peeled for the security camera once more as I try and make my way out to the front entrance.

With some truly terrible dice luck "97" you only spot one of the cameras for the front door, and with a GE roll of "24" you don't get lucky and and slide by the second unknowing yet unnoticed.  It brackets you.

You slip out the front door facing the quadrangle filled with tanks, and down the running track you can see about five guys racing out of a building, and turning your way.  They are about fifty yards away.

One is frantically revving a jeep, and the others are trying to get oriented as they begin to run in your general direction.  You think in the odd light, and shadow from the mix of the occasional lamppole and buildings shadows that they probably haven't spotted you yet.

Well you did want to turn yourself in...(which btw really surprised me, although on reflection it shouldn't have, thus proving the wisdom of playtesting).

Playtester

I stop dead, realising now that I've been had.  "I could probably still run, but where am I going to go.  Now's as good a time as ever to try and figure out what the heck is going on.  At least I'm in the United States, not too far from home."

Standing very still, I raise my hands and look as non-threatening as possible, readying myself for whatever barrage of questions and harrassment that these good folks here at the army base are prepared to give to me.  "I've done nothing wrong here, it may look suspicious but I know that I've not done a single thing wrong."  Despite my own attempts to reassure myself my heart rate just increases and a cold sweat begins to form on my brow.

OOC: I've never played a game where I've roleplayed in first person.  It's a strange way to play but I'm finding it easier the more I do it.  I guess we'll see what happens here now...

You are rapidly surrounded by Oriental looking infantry with odd, heavy rifles.  They do not approach closer than twenty feet.

Any attempt to move will be met with harsh shouts. A further attempt will have shots fired at teh ground in front of your feet.  You verse out on the third attempt unless you get lucky or skillful.

Another jeep pulls up, and a man with some sort of large dog gets out.  They unleash the dog, and it runs over to you, and sniffs.  Meanwhile the man runs some sort of device witha  viewscreen and aims it at you.  You feel a slight tingle in part of the minute long look.

Then another man gets out of the second jeep.

"Honored guest to the Chinese-American Friendship Base, I am Lt. Col. Sun Yu, and we have verified that you are free of drugs, chemical explosives,chemical weapons, radioactives, and as much as possible several other categories of suicide attacks.  So, if our honored guest would like a quick and painless death, instead of being turned over to the punishment brigade for practise then he will comply fully with all my questions. Do you understand?"

Playtester

My mouth goes instantly dry as the threats of execution, though thinly veiled in politeness, do not go past me unheard.  My muscles begin to ahce as the strain of simply not moving takes on a most dire importance.

"I understand fully sir, in fact I would be most welcome to give you any and all information that you desire.  I have as much of a desire to find out how I got here as you do.  I will fully comply with your orders."  I do my best to sound like I am telling the truth, which should be easy since I really am.  The words that come out of my mouth are not free of a slight quaver and the asty clicking of a dry mouth is evidence that I am far from calm.

Another person hops out of the jeep, and rushes up to the side of the Lt. Col..

"Colonel, sir, please, I think you are overreacting.  I think he is sincere.  Please let me talk to him. I think maybe we can be friends."

They argue back and forth, switching to Chinese, until finally the colonel gives up in disgust.

Then the major turns to you.

"Please walk with me."  And he proceeds to walk along the track with the troops trailing, and the colonel racing away in anger.

Playtester

With an eye on the troops with their weapons aimed at me, I take a moment before beginning to move.  "Yes sir...", is all I can spit out, realising that I might still have a chance of not being shot.  With my hands still in the air I slowly take a few steps, making sure that I am indeed allowed to move.  "Thank you sir, for believing me."

While I am relieved to not have the other man still yelling at me, I can still few the moisture of nervousness on the back of my neck; the shirt on my back clinging to my body with sticky perspiration.

OOC:  Whew, not dead...'yet'

"Then you are military? Why are you on my base?" You both continue to walk around the mile long track, and he seems quite patient.

PT

I'm taken aback a bit by the query as to whether I am military asnd I pause, trying to form the answer to the loaded question in my mind.  Finally deciding on what should be a safe answer I spit out the words.

"No sir, I am not military, nowhere close in fact.  I work with kids, disadvantaged ones mostly, helping them gain access to resources and the like, pretty harmless stuff really."  My eyes scan his face and then flick quickly to where the jeeps trail, keeping their weapons trained on me.  "I was sitting in my computer lab getting ready to start work when I was shocked with a high amount of electricty.  Next thing I knew I was here, lying in an alley back in behind where the tank's are being held.  I don't even know where I am."  I leave out the strange part about the island, knowing that going on about a mythical place and dying and coming back to life isn't going to further my case very much.

"I would be happy to answer any questions you might have, including any lie detector tests you may have, that is if you feel it would be appropriate."

He looks away, and then turns back to you.

"Lie detectors are notroriously unreliable, especially to trained personal, although my boss would tell me that you can get around such training with 'extreme physical coercion', it makes it more difficult when you are in pain to keep your mind in the proper state where you can lie without conscience or fear.

So, lets not discuss lie detectors.

Tell me about your life, begin at the beginning."

He listens for a while, and then sadly shakes his head.

"You sound like you are trying to convince me you were an adult in the year 2000, when that is impossible, even for the Americans.  You are obviously young, and it is 2030.  If you will not tell me the truth, I cannot protect you from the colonel."

Playtester

I stop, my hands hovering over my head still, the muscles in my arms aching from holding them above my head for the entirety of our walk along the track.  "2030 you say?  Now this is news to me.  Whether you doubt my sincerety or not, it was 2005 when I last checked the calendar."

I stare down at the ground for a moment, my mind trying to grasp what I've just been told.  "How could I have ended up 25 years in the future?" I mumble to no one in particular.  "I...what has happened to me?"

I lift my head, my eyes coming up to meet those of the inquiring military man.  "I can do nothing but tell you what I know, I am no threat to you or the others here, and I do not wish to die.  One look at me should ensure you that I am not military myself, but a man who is confused and frightened, and in a situation wholly unfamiliar to himself."  I sigh deeply, swallowing hard to try and keep back the fear and confusion wracking my body.  "So then, what would you like of me?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Tue 22 Feb 2005.

"Please put your arms down.  I want you to tell me the truth, not some tissue of fantasy like on American vids.  You speak to me of things that could be called magic or some alien abduction.  This is the stuff the American government feeds its people to dull their wits so they will not be dangerous.  Do I look stupid to you?

Stop insulting me.  Only then can I help you."

Playtester

I drop my arms down to the side of my body, but I feel no better.  Clearly I was not going to be believed, and yet what choice did I have but to try and convince him.

"Sir, you do not look stupid and you do not look like a man who can be deceived easily, let alone by some fairy tale story made up by a lunatic.  Using that same reasoning then, why, knowing that my very life is in danger from you and your men, even attempt to make up a story such as this.  What benefit is there in it?"  I pause for a moment, allowing my interrogator to ponder my words.

"I have no other option but to tell you the truth of what I just experienced.  Perhaps I was the victim of some cruel trick, or perhaps I AM from this time but I've been 'tampered with' somehow to have my mind tell me otherwise.  I don't know.  I do know that I have never seen this place and I do not know how I got here."  I massage an aching muscle in my arm, the victim of holding it above my head for so long.

"If this is true what I am saying, and I've certainly convinced myself of that, then someone, somewhere has developed the technology to travel through time.  Is it not at least worth looking into, at least finding the truth out about it?"

My words were filled with desperation, and I could only hope that this man didn't see that as fear or worse...

There's a sudden look of fear on his face.

Then they toss you in a cell by yourself, and give you some food and drink.

Hours pass...

Playtester

It had been some time since I had had any contact with anyone other then the individuals who brought me food.  The look on my captor's face before I was led off into my cell was enough to keep me worried that I was never getting out of this place.  During the hours of solitary confinement I pondered the events as they had just happened, starting right from the beginning with the computer short.

"None of this makes sense...have I just been living in a dream world for so long.  What IS real anyways?  Have I actually been sent through time?  None of this seems like it is possible."  The longer I spent trying to sort everything out the more questions I had, it was an endless loop guessing that seemed to have no end.

Silently I waited, hoping that some kind of information would be given to me, and that the information would be good...

An American with a Chinese guard for escort enters the room, and he lets himself into your cell, and dismisses the guard.

"I've heard your story. You've been something of the cause of an international incident.  The Chinese are accusing the Americans of keeping something from them in our Alliance for World Peace.  Why don't you tell it to me again?"

I assume you do, and he nods.

"Well, you believe it anyways, or so says my lie detectors which are a good bit more advanced than the Chinese version.  Either someone has gotten a real jump on us in implanting memories, or we have a real conundrum.  Time travel could be very dangerous.

So I'm here to make you an offer. Work for the Peace, or take your chances with the Chinese army colonel.  If what you say is true, then your world is gone.  You need a fresh start, but you are simply too dangerous to roam free, and so we need to keep an eye on you. 24/7."

Playtester

My decision is an easy one, seeing as 'taking my chances with the Chinese' is tantamount to suicide.  With a hasty nod I answer the military man.

"Well, I'm not sure what help I can offer seeing as I have already shared everything I can remember about my situation.  And my world....well for all intents and purposes it's gone to me."  My eyes drop to the floor for a moment, the reality of my situation sinking again yet again.  After a few moments of silence I look back up and speak.

"You have offered me meaning again, and for that I am truly thankful.  I will need to know what tis 'Peace' is that you are speaking of so that I can assist you however I can.  Hopefully at some point in the future I can resume a normal life once again."

OOC: Sorry for the delay.  Baby Doulos should be upon us at any moment and so ife is a little hectic.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:01, Sun 27 Feb 2005.

He smiles.

"You've made a wise decision."

He leads you out to a hovercar, and lets you get in, and offers you refreshments as you both leave the base behind.

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"Our noble allies are scary people. I'm glad to be off the primary Northeast coast base of theirs."

"The Peace. Well, you won't remember New Orleans.  Smallpox martyr during a superbowl weekend, he infected hundreds and they went home where they infected thousands.  By the time we got it under control, ten million Americans had died.

There were a great deal of other threats on the horizon, and some people, actually nearly thirty percent favored the Green Glass option for any potential threats.  But President Clinton, she wisely and humanely made the Chinese an offer they couldn't refuse. Together we would police the world. Chinese manpower and American weapons joined together. We each have a few allies like Britain and Israel for us, but mostly everyone has a strict set of rules to abide by.

No research in chemical weapons or atomics. Stuff like that. Violators of the Peace Accords get a visit from a wizard (i.e. an American or an American robot), or if we really want to send a message they get about a thousand Chinese paratroopers landing on their roof.  We give them about ten seconds to surrender, and after that we execute the sentence of the secret Peace Courts.

Its a vital job, saving the world."

Playtester

And Doulos, take whatever time you need.  Baby comes first.

PT

The terms that were being thrown around were an overwhelming mass of expressions that I had never heard.  'Green Glass', 'wizards' and 'Peace Accords' sounded a lot like a George Orwell novel.  And yet it wasn't entirely unbelievable.

"I'm going to have to ask for some clarification on a few things, although some of what you said seems a little like I can figure it out using common sense.  What's this Green Glass option you're talking about, I can't honestly say I've heard of it before. And other things are going to take some getting used to; such as Mrs. President."  I smile for the first time in a few days, feeling inches of worry seep off of my body.

"But I am still curious as to how I can fit in here.  It'll take me ages just to get caught up on current events.  Did you have any specific role in mind for me, or is this still a work in progress?"

"Green glass refers to what happens at a nuclear ground zero.  The sand is fused to green glass.  Nuclear genocide of dangerous groups is what it means as 'green glass option'."

he laughs.

"work in progress, definitely"

pt

he's not laughing at ggo.

pt

I nod as the morbid analogy is explained to me.  It seemed that there was going to be a lot to learn in this new world, not the least of which was the lingo.

"Alright, well that makes sense, so where do I fit in then?  I'd like to start as soon as possible to keep my mind off of other matters."

You arrive at a non-descript building, and he explains what he's done so far to another man, in great detail.  Then he takes you to his desk which is in a glass walled room.

"Tell me what you're interested in.  Interrogation. Infiltration. Technological Evaluation. Research (I'm sure the Transporter guys would love you.). Basic Overwatch. Assault teams.  Tactics and Strategy. I think you don't want Liason with the Chinese, I'll bet.

We can train you.  Or tell me what skills you have, and we'll see what we can use."

PT

"All of this military talk is a little over my head, why don't I let you know what I can do and then we can go from there?"  I think for a few moments and then begin to list a few of the ways I feel I can be helpful to 'The Peace'.

"I'm much more of a people person then anything else.  I like to think I have decent interpersonal skills and a genuine like for most people.  I work with kids and so naturally that lends itself to me having a lot of patience as well. I tend to think fairly logically and practically though and thus when I'm not hanging out with the wee ones, my free time is spent playing chess or tinkering with a computer.  I wouldn't offer my computer skills up as good considering they are now likely 30 years out of date for you."  The glass walls unnerve me a little, and for a moment it occurs to me that perhaps I am being watched, for what reason I'm unsure.

"Aside from that I'm a pretty run of the mill type guy.  I'm not one to boast about my physical fitness as you can see from my slim build, although I can climb my way up a wall or two if needed."  I bite my bottom lip as I think about where I might fit in best.  "Research might be interesting, and it would certainly help me get caught up on the times I'd imagine.  Or maybe infiltration, who doesn't want to be a spy!"  I smile, a broad toothy grin, and a feeling almost like normalcy creeps into my chest, if only for a moment.

He nods.

"All right. We'll get you some basic training with a dart pistol, and some hand-to-hand training, and we can easily buff you up.  Its not like the early twentieth.  We have far safer means of gaining muscle mass than ah, 'roids, is that the term?

You can help out with the kids, and in your spare time help with the transporters.  I'll assign you your watch partners.

PT

I nod at the query about steroids.  "Yeah, they are quite commonly used, or at least they were in my time."  The fact that I no longer existed in that world still confused me, but it was best to keep such thoughts out of my head at times like this.

"What exactly are the transporters?  You've mentioned them a couple times now but I'm not sure what it is you're referring to. I guess I should ask about watch partners as well, both of these are very new terms to me."  I ask the questions while having other questions in my mind that I don't ask for now.  Like why was I brought out of my time and if I can be brought out, can't I be brought back?  The answers would come in time but for now I needed to focus on attending to the challenge in front of, namely that of surviving in a new, and not so un-hostile world.

"Well, transporters are Code Word Secret. Repeat to anyone not cleared and its state treason in time of national crisis.  But, you being a traveller seem uniquely suited so you were cleared.

Its a means of digitizing your physical form, and reassembling it elsewhere.  Cutting edge stuff, and the Peace is the only place you can work at the best stuff.  But so far, we've had no human test subjects.

Watch Partner, eventually you'll have two.  Its a known fact that isolation is not good for the human mind.  So we 'help' friendships along.  You report to your partner everything you've done in the last several hours.  It helps us to keep eyes on each other, make sure no one gets too far out of the norm.  He will report to you as well, and anything really sensitive, you two or three will work together on."

Playtester

"So do you mean like transporting like in the old science fiction shows?  I used to watch a show called Star Trek that used Transporting but it was never actually thought to be something that could actually be possible.  That's incredible!"  I took a moment to think about the amazing changes that I would have to adjust to and shook my head slowly.

"I would be very interested in taking a look at this transporting in action, and I'd be curious as to what it feels like."  I smile and pause for a moment once again, reforming my thoughts.  "I guess we'd best be getting started, I don't really have anything to live for now aside from this job and it's going to take some time before this life feels normal again."

OOC:  Sorry for the big gap in posting, life is slowly getting back to normal after baby.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:30, Thu 17 Mar 2005.

"Sure, lets take you over there after we meet your watch partner, Tyler Evans.  Just remember, he has a legal right and a moral responsibility to ask you intrusive questions.  It is a felony to refuse to answer any of his questions.  The same goes in reverse from you to him as well.

And once you're good with a dart pistol, and some hand-to-hand, we'll move you up to Infiltration."

He leads you out of the glass room, and you see a camera just outside on the ceiling.

"We're recorded at all times in the Peace Building.  We don't have them manually checked as that would take too long, but we have some very clever computer programs to spot criminal behaviour, and bring it to a watcher's attention."

You meet Tyler in a break room, and he seems a pleasant fellow, not overly ambitious, and the only flash of personality you see is when he discusses your time travel experience.  He then asks you a whole string of really intrusive questions with your supervisor standing there.

Playtester

The entire situation is still very surreal as question after question is directed my way from this Tyler fellow. Most of the querying, while uncomfortable, is still fairly easy to answer as I truly now have nothing to hide.

When it comes time to question Tyler myself I let loose with a string of questions, doing my best to find out what the average person's life looks like, or at least the average person working for the Peace.

After a while I finally get around to one particularly good question and smile as I ask it.  "So...do you watch any sports Tyler, or has such a thing been eliminated in this post nuclear world?"

OOC: Hmm, it's difficult to know where to take the storyline right now.

OOC:  Well right now you are a member of the headquarters staff of this timelines secret police.  They are mostly good intentioned, but they are quite totalitarian.

Let me advance the story a month.

Ic:

You've gotten used to working here.  Yes, you're recorded everywhere, including on the pot.  Saying anything even mildly critical of the leadership, outside of counselling sessions gets you mandatory training in loyalty.

Everything moves terrifically slowly since any action has to be undertaken by a committee, and overseen by at least two other committees.

You've learned some how to use a dart pistol, and basic pankration wrestling.  They want to know if you are now interested in muscle mods.  No, they won't explain how they work.  Thats secret.  Lots of things are secret.

You've finally been cleared for being put on the transporter program, and you've seen a rabbit teleport.

And down here in the basement, you hear occasional screaming noises as the machines rev up, and it took you a while to realize it since you're a decent person, but the torturers down the hall time their beatings with the revving up the teleporter mechanism's test runs to cover the noise.

PT
Hope that helps...If not, we can discuss it further, or verse you out.  You don't realize on how thin a thread your life hangs at the moment.  True to KGB tradition, you won't even see it coming.  Walk through a door, and pop-pop in the back of the head from a .22...

It was hard to believe that an entire month had passed since I had been shifted into this other world.  It was hard to adjust and to be honest, I never really felt a part of the place.  The life was easy enough, although the complete lack of privacy and individuality was a constant drain on me.

Hearing the sounds of torture going on had put me into a real sense of disease, but asking about it, or even worse, questioning, did not seem like a good idea at this stage.  What kept me going was the fact that there must be some way to get back to my own timeline.  Every chance I got, I would do what I could to try and find out about the technology that existed to try and get involved in time travel.  It was hard making any headway into new areas, as the systems in place were extremely rigid and red tape coated everything in abundance.  But I had to know how to get home, this new world was a horrible place to live, regardless of how well treated I was.

Today I had decided to out and out ask to be moved into an area that dealt with time travel, knowing that it hadn't been officially mentioned to me, but feeling very passionate about the situation.  I was hoping that my passion for getting back home would be more then enough to convince my superiors that I would be a great fit for working in that area.

OOC:  Alright, sounds good.  Derek certainly wants to get home, and while a normal person might just try and fit in with the new lifestyle he's not content and wants to return, despite the fact that it might take a few risks.

You learn from Tyler and Max, your watch partners, about ordinary life here as well over the next two weeks.  Your Pankration instructor congratulates you, and presents you with the "First of many belts, I hope."

It gets suggested that you should be applying for muscle mods if you really want Infiltration since Scouts have to carry a lot of equipment on their backs.

Yes sports are very common.  More team sports than individual sports.  In fact, most of the individual sports you're familiar with have been reconfigured to make them team events.

The food is spicier than you are used too.  They use hot sauce on almost everything.  Part of its a Chinese influence, and part is some sort of weird cultural shift you don't quite understand.

There's a lot of art covering the walls, but much is frankly pretty bad.  Kitsch and knickknacks would be high art here. Its more banal than Socialist Realism and sweeter than Norman Rockwell.

You make your plea to your supervisor, and he promises to take it up with his watch partners, and the ominous "Other Authorities".

OOC: And here's where I roll a GE roll.  3d10, and if I roll oh, 26 or higher, Totalitarian Paranoid Reflex kicks in and pop...pop. Woohoo a roll of "7" which is very good for you, and while I didn't really plan on them having such an advance program, I guess I should.

IC: Your supervisor comes back to you the next day, and takes you and your watch partners into a secure bubble.

"Congratulations. Your initiative and willingness to serve the Nation have been noted favorably by some high officials.  You are hereby promoted to Specialist Level Two with a decent pay raise, along with Tyler and Max of course, and reassigned to Project Nova Orleans. Time travel is theoretically possible the Science Establishment has confirmed with the data from our honorable visitor (He means you), and you three are going to be the first chrononauts."

Playtester

I can't help but finally let loose a huge smile, my lips stretching back on my face.

"That's fantastic!  I can't wait to get started.  As you can tell this is something I'm pretty passionate about."  I paused, suddenly aware of how passion is often misconstrued to be something else entirely.  "I am ready to begin working whenever we can."  I wave my hand at Tyler and Max, the smile on my face still there, but slowly starting to melt away.

My brain already begins to work overtime.  'What if this is my way to get home?  I could travel back and escape this horrid place.'  While this world wasn't horrible, I couldn't help but feel completely alone in it, with my relationships all revolving around work and pretty much nothing else.  This job of being a chrononaut was the one thing I could really sink my teeth into, if it truly could get me home.

"Oh and I've finally decided that I'd like to stay away from the muscle mods, I'm pretty much into natural solutions if I can help it.  Perhaps if circumstances change then I may need to begin the mods."

OOC:  Finally something that my character can really get involved with.  I would imagine a real sense of lack of purpose and hopelessness if this had truly happened, since everything and everyone I had known was gone.  This gives my character a real drive to achieve something now.  And as far as my character knows there is no such thing jumping around from world to world, just that this is perhaps a rare occurence.

They begin teaching you and your partners the historical data you need for the transition.  For you, its quite easy as most is already familiar to you.  But you note they speak of a President Gore...

But they intend you to jump back to New Orleans 2009, not 2005.  The goal is to stop Mahmoud Ali, the Smallpox Martyr from unleashing his plague.

Among other things, they give you a "very capable 'vaccine/targetted immune booster' against smallpox.  Much better than the state of teh art in 2005.  Its safer, and even the extremely virulent Russian biowar pox's won't be able to stand against it."

They also give you a "Mark IV dart pistol."  Its got the power of a .44 Magnum at its top end (you can dial it to four settings for power. There is a 'rubber bullet' setting), the kick of a bb gun, and you have several hundred "rounds" in a solid block of matter with a fuel cell power pack.  Its stealthy as well, and will fit inside your hand.

They warn you not to expose it to high levels of magnetism or radiation as it will cease to function.  And if it gets hit in the handle, and the yellow light goes off, throw it as far as possible as the fuel cell is about to explode.

PT

The importance of this mission suddenly dawns on me as I realise I am being given the task of possibly stopping a massive world plague. While I will not be alone, the idea of moving through time and attempting to infiltrate an organization, and possibly assasinate another human being, is quite disturbing.  To think that just a few short months ago I was involved in a youth centre and checking my email.

A sadness came over me as the past came back.  I had tried to block it out, but despite my best efforts I couldn't do a very good job.  The relationships with other people were what I missed the most, especially since most people here seemed so cold and analytical.  It was just not possible to sit down and have a chat, or tell jokes about things, with every move being watched and recorded.  It was a dull, dry and very un-private life.  But I had the chance to change that now.

And who knows...should I actually be successful in stopping Mahmoud Ali, then perhaps I could slip away and stay in that time, at least there I could start my life over again, especially with some of the things I've learned here...

The preparations were greuling but thorough and I felt as if I had learned more about the technical side of life here in the past few months then I could have ever learned in a lifetime working at my old job.  My mind was filled with numbers and meaneuvers and weapon skills and more.

During one of our training times I turn to Tyler with a concerned look on my face.

"Tyler, what do you think will happen if we do end up stopping Ali?  I mean won't it alter this current timeline?  What if this entire world is eliminated, including the possibility of returning if time travel is eliminated?"

My questions were genuine queries, although the prospect of having to return here was not one I envied.  There was no way I'd be letting them know that though.

They come to you, and apologetically hand you a pill.

"This will teach you Arabic to the level of being a fluent speaker with a native accent from the Kuwaiti Governing Region #4. I know you don't like artificial mods, but really its quite safe, and we don't have time to send you to language school."

"Also, here is a chip and a reader containing useful data about the case, and credit card numbers that you can use."

Later that week, you ask Tyler and he replies as you both are planning on  attending a group football game watching party.  These sports parties are sometimes extremely emotional. It seems that sports is one of the few outlets for these people.

"That would be terrible, but perhaps its the price we have to pay.  In any case, I will continue to uphold the ideals of the Peace."

Then he starts holding your hand as he leads you off to teh cafeteria having ended the training session quicker than normal.  This hand-holding, he does in a way that you have seen others do as they walk.  And he starts telling you a rambling story. Every so often, he squeezes your hand.

PT

I had been reluctant to take the pill, not one to ever take drugs if at all possible.  However, it was clear that not doing the will of the Peace was what got most individuals into the torture chambers.  With the chance to escape so close I had to do everything they wanted and get into a different time zone.

"Well yes, perhaps being stranded in a different time period would be the price we pay, but it would be worth it."  I lied, but my whole life seemed a lie lately, my mouth spitting out the ideals of the Peace on a regular basis as if I actually believed in them.

The handholding was curious at first and I had wondered if it was some sort of strange custom that had developed over the years.  In this circumstance though it seemed to me to be something very intentional.  As we walked along I kept note of the squeezings of my hand, mentally keeping track of what words Tyler said each time he squeezed my hands.  Perhaps there was something in what he was saying that he was trying to let me know.

"Would...that...be...so...bad" A long pause as he got food for you, him, and Evan from teh Cafeteria line.

Then he started another story.

"I ...was... but... a month less even from doing it when I met you"

And then he turns to you as you both reach the lunch table in the pleasant outdoor patio dotted with groups of watch teams.  And for a second he drops his mask to reveal a man in utter agony, his eyes are pure horror, hopeless despair.

And now he speaks openly.

"I do understand why the Peace does their job, why we do our job, there are those who want to destroy the world, and have the means, locked up in this building right now undergoing incarceration and interrogation. So I'm happy to have volunteered for this project to help the Peace."

And he gives you a sunny, chin-up Happy Volunteer look.  Then he sits down and starts eating.

OOC: Besides your other skills, you've become quite a lot better at lying.

"Anything I need to know?" Evans, the other watch partner, asks you both.

PT

I file the phrases from Tyler into the back of my mind a sudden feeling of comraderie with him filling me.  Trying not to let on that I understood him I turn to Evan with a smile.

"This is going to be quite the operation," I speak to Evan.  "Tyler and I were discussing the possibility of being left in that time, or the ramifications of altering this new timeline if we do stop the terrorist attacks from happening.  We're really in uncharted territory."  I knew when to lie, and when to just out and tell the truth.  Some veils were too thin to try and hide falsehood behind.

"On the other hand what could be more exciting then having the chance to stop all the misery that happened from ever occuring?"  I smile again, doing my very best to show that I truly am excited.

"One question though," and this is directed to both my watch partners.  "Have they figured out exactly how they are going to bring us back, assuming that everything goes well and we stop the attacks?"  This was a genuine concern, for suddenly it dawned on me that perhaps they could force us to come back, through some sort of implant or tracking device.  Who knows what type of technology exists now to keep tabs on individuals even across different times.

OOC:  Lying?!  How...ummm...useful.  Perhaps I'll need it another time or two :)

"Yes, I would like to save those people too.  It is troubling that we might not get back, but you're right sacrifices have to be made to help out other people.  It does seem unreal.  Will this world, this patio never have existed?"  Evan says.

They shrug, neither one knowing.  But later that week you find the answer to your question.

"You are being given enough credit card access that you should be able to buy, among other things,  a cryonic freezing chamber and have yourself stored in one until at least 2025 practically because this was when teh de-thawing was first successful, but we want 2030.  We don't want you taking unfair advantage of those with less knowledge.

Which brings up a final question.  You three have done superbly well in your training, and we are all proud of you.  This is your last moment to turn back, to express doubts, whatever.  Tommorrow we begin training in the operation of the temporal shift device."

PT

Inwardly, I was incredibly happy that I was going to have the 'option' of freezing myself in a cryogenic chamber once we stop the terrorist attack.  Of course 'option' was not a word in the Peace dictionary but it was in bold and bright red text in mine.  There was still a chance that I could be tracked using some method that I am not aware of but I had no control over that.

I shook my head when asked about turning back, my resolve was firm on this.  "There's no way I'm backing out on this operation, the Peace and what it stands for has given me renewed purpose after having lost everything only months ago.  This is possibly the most important operation in history; stopping the deaths of billions of people."  I hoped I sounded convincing enough; I almost seemed to convince myself that what I was saying is true.

"I'm ready for whatever training you might have for me, and it's my honor to be working alongside two talented and dedicated men!"

The next day they explain the process to you and your watch partners.

A metal case is fitted around the chrononaut, and then he and it are rapidly dropped to absolute zero by means of teleporting them, minus some of teh energy they naturally have, and then this sets them adrift in time.  A very small increment, less than one watt is applied to the vehicle to give it direction as it leaves.

Meanwhile, the chrononaut is counting in his head, and at the appropriate time, he sends forth a very modest telekinetic pulse which will activate another teleport which will use energy stored in a capacitor, and add energy to his body and the case to warm him up, and thus restore him to linear time.

However, if it is not in 2009, there are safeguards in the case to make sure it is not misused.

And then you get a demonstration of TK with a young woman floating a marble over your hand.

"Its difficult, but I'm told we have plenty of time.  And contrary to the television shows, you won't be lifting cars.  But even being able to lift a paperclip will be enough to trigger the sensitive device.  We are not sure our devices will properly function outside linear time, or so cold, but for some reason, human minds still exist in this state."

PT

The process of shifting through time is in an entirely different class then much of my training from earlier on.  The science, while I need to know a basic amount of it, is for the most part way over my head.  For much of my training I simply try to remember the bare essentials and hope I can fake the rest of it to the best of my abilities.  I ask lots of questions and do my best to keep pace with Evan and Tyler but ultimately I am pretty sure I'll be relying on them to carry me through this process.

The idea of actually using TK to control this machine scares me a little bit, as I've always seen that sort of thing as fairy tale.  Although time travel and 'Big Brother' always seemed to be fiction as well...

Turning to Evan I sheepishly ask, "Are you understanding most of this?  I really hope I can catch on a little bit faster in the next few days, because this is much more confusing then I first thought it would be."

Indeed, you're not really understanding it that much, but they are only giving you the basics.  As someone said about the rockets--even a monkey could press a button.  That's your job.

So they tried to stuff you full of data, but Command, after a couple days tells them to back off and focus on the practical.  You can tell the scientists are irritated, partially because they hoped for one of them to go on the mission.

The other two members of the chrono team are laughing to each other.

"Its weird.  Receiving an impression.  Would be really useful in field combat exercises."  Evans says, and then laughs after Tyler gives him a focused look.

"You're right." Evans says to Tyler.  "Tyler is really good at it. I can only recieve mental impressions.  They say the next stage is learning TK.  You have to learn impressions first so you can see how TK works in another's mind."

The last week, along with your serious bouts of heavy science, has been frustrating hours staring at the psion.  Occasionally you felt something.  Not sure what.

PT

My eyes are heavy from the long hours of staring at screens and images and trying desperately to make something, anything, happen.  Combined with the aching headache that has been creeping ever louder into my brain, this day in particular has been quite long and boring.

Deciding to give it one last go before taking a break for a bit I close my eyes and take a deep breath.  Slowly, I open my eyes again and do my best to focus in on the psion and try to make anything happen at all, which today would be a huge encouragement.  In my mind I keep reciting a phrase to keep myself focused on the task, knowing that the quicker I master these skills, the quicker I can get out of here.

"Home...home...home...home..." the mantra goes on and on as I try to focus my mind on the task.

You continue to beat your head on it over and over for the next hour.  About ready to scream, you shove back from the table, adn the psion reaches out with her soft hands, and says with patent empathy.

"One more time."  Frustrated you give it half an effort, and hear singing in your mind.

*I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is...*

And then you see that you've been trying too hard, it requires effort, but it must flow at the same time.  But perhaps her holding your hands helped as well.  And perhaps the flow required the bashing of your will first to prepare teh way.  Whatever teh case, it worked!

OOC: We'll give you another +1 to your willpower (an attribute).

PT

As the words to the familiar song begin to echo quietly in my mind I smile, truly smile, for the first time in a long time.  The idea that I am actually reading another person's mind is exciting and I feel as if I have accomplished something unlike what many others on the planet have done.

Of course, this isn't truly the case, but in my own time period I 'would' be unique in my experience.  Hoping that the experience will get easier with every try I figure I'll give it a couple more tries tonight and then get some rest.

"I can't believe I actually heard you in my head, that was amazing!"  I smile again.  "Let's give it another go and then call it a night.  I need to be sure I'm getting rest every night before we leave.  I'm so glad to have finally made some progress."

The excitement was in part because of the experience I just went to, but mostly because this was another step towards beginning the trip, and possibly towards home...

You repeat the process, feeling greater familiarity with it, and see the way to hold your mind receptive to communication.  It is trying, but think that with practise it should get easier.  And you you already think that it opens up a lot of other possibilities for further experiments.

The next day, they begin teaching you how to project a TK pulse in a soft push all around you.  They hang up light ribbons on wires all about you, and the psion is likewise on the other side of the room.

She contacts your mind, and shows you how she does it, and then invites you to do likewise.  Its a trick of thinking that you probably would never have discovered on your own, but now that you see it done...

The first hour is unproductive.

The second hour, you feel a tinge of power and push it, and the psion cries out "NOO!" to late.

The wires rip out of their walls and encircle you tying your arms to your body, and spinning at horrific speed around your throat while lifting you skyward so that you are floating five feet off the ground.

You can't breathe,the room is fading, but you see red spots on the walls that must be your blood, and you hear shouting as the scientists try to break through the oddly recalcitrant door of the study room.

OOC: And yes, that is a botch, and a rather bad one.  Might not be getting to go on a time machine after all.

PT

Suddenly, all thoughts of time travel, telekinesis and home flee from my mind and only one thought remains - that of trying to live.  For the first few seconds I continue to struggle against the cords which are entangled around my body as if I could try harder and they would somehow unravel themselves.  After but a few moments of realising I am hopelessly bound I try and relax my mind, my body beyond the point of calming down, and try and use my newly found skills to lossen the bonds which have me in their grip.

"Ok calm down, you used your mind to get you in this, now use it to get out...come on now Derek, this is your chance to get home..."  I close my eyes, blocking out the sight of my own blood on the walls and with but seconds of air left in my lungs I focus on trying to use my mind to untangle the wires, at the very least from around my neck so that I can breathe.

OOC: Wow, quite the botch!

OOC: I gave you two chances to get out of the situation.  One a psi roll to free yourself, and the other a General Events roll to see if the others could free you.

But a barely successful stamina check keeps you going a bit longer.

IC: It's Not Working! You try to calm yourself, but the thundering of blood in your neck distracts you, and the burning sensation in your chest does not help, one little bit.  Oddly, you get bumped, and see the psion trying to drag you to the ground.

Things are getting gray...

PT

The time for calm and thoughtfulness was over, at this point my body simply kicked into panic mode.  Struggling as hard as I can, I push out against my bonds, the wires digging painfully into me as I fight to extricate myself from the metallic clutches of this beast.  The grayness is almost a relief as I feel the last of my strength fading away, perhaps if this is how I will die it will not be too painful...

Your surroundings fade, and the pain is replaced by a sense of euphoria, and then ...

We take this discussion to the Next world for Doulos (Doulos in the Fimbulwinter), and also a Post Ludum discussion of how the game went and the world itself.

Too bad, because I was looking forward to your visiting 2009, but dice is dice, despite some very good play.

PT