Post by SJmun on Mar 18, 2016 22:49:32 GMT -8
Alarms are going off everywhere. Strange creatures of all shapes and sizes can be seen panicking and rushing down the halls, unsure of what to do.
"Beeeeeeeeeeeeep!" The spaghettimobile screams as it scoots as fast as its tiny wheels will take it. It has no idea where it's going however.
Meanwhile, in the boardroom, a vaguely anthromorphic choco taco stands at the end of a table. A rather tall and thin green thing, wearing a tie, with a bouquet of eyeballs for a head stands nearby, taking notes with one of its many bendy appendages, gripping a pencil.
"As some of you less temporally aligned may have already known, we are in great danger." The choco taco paces solemnly as the other businessmonsters sit nervously in their places.
Outside of the window, instead of bizarre oceanlife swimming through the inky blackness of the void, as can usually be seen, splotches of blinding white can be seen breaking through the dark. The window unfortunately does not have any blinds installed. Many in the group have resorted to wearing sunglasses, though some have had trouble finding a pair that fits their eye configuration. The green stalk assistant has opted for using an umbrella to block the light.
"Can we get a quick rundown of the status of the departments?"
The first one speaks up.
"The simulation department is experiencing difficulties in keeping the servers running. We've distributed win condition tokens across the board to all captive players so they can escape before the simulations collapse and possibly leave them completely useless. The lessened load should keep the remaining simulations running smoother." The one speaking is a highly cyberneticly enhanced furby, one eye replaced a simple red glowing LED orb. It looks almost more like a terminator than a furby.
"Good, we don't want any of our contained players dropping like flies. We need their output more than ever." The choco taco nods.
The next one down the line takes his turn.
"Rewardificator department is getting alarm calls off the hook. We've ran short on enforcers and scouts to check on the units out in the wild. Some of them are even afraid to make the trips out there. Honestly I don't blame them. This one really ballsy guy though, Kracken I think, said he was on his way towards The Source. Mentioned something about having a bone to pick with the crew over there. Group 930 I think? Either way, I don't expect that guy coming back in one piece any time soon. If that location is really where all this... destruction is coming from, I'm betting they're going to be having a calamari barbeque over there..." an odd sea slug looking dude with fishlip-esque flaps that continuously jitter in place is speaking. He has three eye stalks and each one is wearing a mini sunhat.
The choco taco thinks a bit. Group 930... that number seemed familiar... wait, weren't they the group consulted for the beta testing and focus group? They didn't seem too much out of the ordinary, as far as session ditchers seem to go.
What could have gone wrong since then?
"...any other departments have any reports?" He hesitantly asks to the others.
A long pause before one at the far corner of the room begins to speak.
"...um, ectoplasmic extraction department has been getting reports of ruptured bubbles in lightblighted locations. Massive losses have been incurred. Cleanup crews have been unsuccessful in retrieving any leftover materials. There are still many other bubbles out there and the main intake station for this sector is unharmed, but the losses have resulted in a loss of services to any inhabitants that subscribe to our energy recycling program." It appears to be a tall lamp covered by a bedsheet speaking this time.
The choco taco sighs. First the mysterious depletions in that one corner a while back, and now this? It seems whatever, or whoever is doing this is sparing no expense in destroying everything it touches...
The choco taco leans forwards against the window, hands pressing against it to prop himself up against his own weight.
He really hopes there's an answer somewhere out there...
"Beeeeeeeeeeeeep!" The spaghettimobile screams as it scoots as fast as its tiny wheels will take it. It has no idea where it's going however.
Meanwhile, in the boardroom, a vaguely anthromorphic choco taco stands at the end of a table. A rather tall and thin green thing, wearing a tie, with a bouquet of eyeballs for a head stands nearby, taking notes with one of its many bendy appendages, gripping a pencil.
"As some of you less temporally aligned may have already known, we are in great danger." The choco taco paces solemnly as the other businessmonsters sit nervously in their places.
Outside of the window, instead of bizarre oceanlife swimming through the inky blackness of the void, as can usually be seen, splotches of blinding white can be seen breaking through the dark. The window unfortunately does not have any blinds installed. Many in the group have resorted to wearing sunglasses, though some have had trouble finding a pair that fits their eye configuration. The green stalk assistant has opted for using an umbrella to block the light.
"Can we get a quick rundown of the status of the departments?"
The first one speaks up.
"The simulation department is experiencing difficulties in keeping the servers running. We've distributed win condition tokens across the board to all captive players so they can escape before the simulations collapse and possibly leave them completely useless. The lessened load should keep the remaining simulations running smoother." The one speaking is a highly cyberneticly enhanced furby, one eye replaced a simple red glowing LED orb. It looks almost more like a terminator than a furby.
"Good, we don't want any of our contained players dropping like flies. We need their output more than ever." The choco taco nods.
The next one down the line takes his turn.
"Rewardificator department is getting alarm calls off the hook. We've ran short on enforcers and scouts to check on the units out in the wild. Some of them are even afraid to make the trips out there. Honestly I don't blame them. This one really ballsy guy though, Kracken I think, said he was on his way towards The Source. Mentioned something about having a bone to pick with the crew over there. Group 930 I think? Either way, I don't expect that guy coming back in one piece any time soon. If that location is really where all this... destruction is coming from, I'm betting they're going to be having a calamari barbeque over there..." an odd sea slug looking dude with fishlip-esque flaps that continuously jitter in place is speaking. He has three eye stalks and each one is wearing a mini sunhat.
The choco taco thinks a bit. Group 930... that number seemed familiar... wait, weren't they the group consulted for the beta testing and focus group? They didn't seem too much out of the ordinary, as far as session ditchers seem to go.
What could have gone wrong since then?
"...any other departments have any reports?" He hesitantly asks to the others.
A long pause before one at the far corner of the room begins to speak.
"...um, ectoplasmic extraction department has been getting reports of ruptured bubbles in lightblighted locations. Massive losses have been incurred. Cleanup crews have been unsuccessful in retrieving any leftover materials. There are still many other bubbles out there and the main intake station for this sector is unharmed, but the losses have resulted in a loss of services to any inhabitants that subscribe to our energy recycling program." It appears to be a tall lamp covered by a bedsheet speaking this time.
The choco taco sighs. First the mysterious depletions in that one corner a while back, and now this? It seems whatever, or whoever is doing this is sparing no expense in destroying everything it touches...
The choco taco leans forwards against the window, hands pressing against it to prop himself up against his own weight.
He really hopes there's an answer somewhere out there...
