[0005]: Hard Sunshine
Jul. 23rd, 2011 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
redacted_error A deadpan, female voice rings in your ears.
Due to events beyond our control, some testing environments may contain flood damage or ongoing tribal warfare resulting from the collapse of civilizations. If groups of hunter gatherers have made this or any test chamber their home, do. Not. Agitate them. Test through them.
OOC: Tried to make this...mostly spoiler proof. Prose or action posts are fine!
You wake up in a large, brightly room pieced together with white tile and metal. There is very little else around you: a large metal cube, a large red button, and a set of doors hundreds of yards away on the other side. There aren’t any hints of how you got into the room. The ground is warm underneath you. A low hum draws your eyes downward, and you find yourself on a thin, flat beam that appears to have its own glow.
A female voice suddenly rings throughout the room, the same one you heard just moments ago. It is much more automated, as if a voiceover, however, it is hard to ignore the almost…cheerful…tone in the words.
These bridges are made from natural light that I pump in from the surface; if you rubbed your cheek on one, it would be like standing outside with the sun shining on your face. It would also set your hair on fire, so don’t actually do it.
A good twenty feet below is a murky pool that takes up a good portion of the floor—that is, everywhere except near the doors. The hissing, bubbling sound suggests that it probably isn’t a good idea to jump in and swim through it. However, you have no time to think; your body seems to move on its own accord as it stands and takes several steps before leaping off the edge.
You plummet towards the acid, there appears to be a small square bit of metal, with a bright blue dot you are aiming for. Suddenly, a crash of metal, and you are flung into the air, the woman’s voice coming back onto the intercom as you suddenly approach the ceiling.
This next test involves the Aperture Science Aerial Faith Plate. It was part of an initiative to investigate how well test subjects could solve problems when they were catapulted into space. Results were highly informative.
They could not.
You come within arm's reach within the ceiling.
Good luck.
Your stomach flies to your throat as you begin to drop. Another crash, and you are soaring into the air. You repeat this several times before you are flung—a bit painfully—into the wall next to the doors.
You notice a blue sign with an X next to the doorways, as well as a line of lights that inch down across the floor to the large red button. Joints aching, you stand and move the metal cube onto the button. The X turns into a checkmark as the doors open.
As you pass through the doorway, you also walk through a light blue barrier of small particles, shivering.
I’ve got a surprise for you after this next test; not a fake tragic surprise like that time. A reeeeal surprise with tragic consequences. And real confetti this time, the good stuff, our last bag. Part of me is going to miss it. but at the end of the day, it was just taking up spa--. A loud explosion cuts the announcement short, filling the speakers with white noise.
You walk into a white elevator that seems to go up forever before it stops. As the doors open, you immediately notice the stark contrast from the test chamber. The long stretch of corridor is jerked awkwardly to one side, made of metal, concrete, and broken glass barely suspended in the air. As you step out of the elevator, you will see that there is miles and miles of…nothing…below you. There is nowhere to go except forward.
As you make your way through the debris, you will notice a familiar bit of orange towards the end of the hallway, which is blocked by a massive piece of concrete. Beyond it, there isn’t much else outside of warped metal and wiring, but the more you look, you realize that these parts were once connected to some kind of piece of machinery that once hung from the ceiling. A single shaft of sunlight from an endless ceiling pinpoints a single figure.
She is tiny…insignificant…amongst the rubble. Her legs have given out, her shoulders slumped forward. The portal gun lies nearby, inactive. You see her body tremble slightly, her breath echoing in the chamber.
Due to events beyond our control, some testing environments may contain flood damage or ongoing tribal warfare resulting from the collapse of civilizations. If groups of hunter gatherers have made this or any test chamber their home, do. Not. Agitate them. Test through them.
OOC: Tried to make this...mostly spoiler proof. Prose or action posts are fine!
You wake up in a large, brightly room pieced together with white tile and metal. There is very little else around you: a large metal cube, a large red button, and a set of doors hundreds of yards away on the other side. There aren’t any hints of how you got into the room. The ground is warm underneath you. A low hum draws your eyes downward, and you find yourself on a thin, flat beam that appears to have its own glow.
A female voice suddenly rings throughout the room, the same one you heard just moments ago. It is much more automated, as if a voiceover, however, it is hard to ignore the almost…cheerful…tone in the words.
These bridges are made from natural light that I pump in from the surface; if you rubbed your cheek on one, it would be like standing outside with the sun shining on your face. It would also set your hair on fire, so don’t actually do it.
A good twenty feet below is a murky pool that takes up a good portion of the floor—that is, everywhere except near the doors. The hissing, bubbling sound suggests that it probably isn’t a good idea to jump in and swim through it. However, you have no time to think; your body seems to move on its own accord as it stands and takes several steps before leaping off the edge.
You plummet towards the acid, there appears to be a small square bit of metal, with a bright blue dot you are aiming for. Suddenly, a crash of metal, and you are flung into the air, the woman’s voice coming back onto the intercom as you suddenly approach the ceiling.
This next test involves the Aperture Science Aerial Faith Plate. It was part of an initiative to investigate how well test subjects could solve problems when they were catapulted into space. Results were highly informative.
They could not.
You come within arm's reach within the ceiling.
Good luck.
Your stomach flies to your throat as you begin to drop. Another crash, and you are soaring into the air. You repeat this several times before you are flung—a bit painfully—into the wall next to the doors.
You notice a blue sign with an X next to the doorways, as well as a line of lights that inch down across the floor to the large red button. Joints aching, you stand and move the metal cube onto the button. The X turns into a checkmark as the doors open.
As you pass through the doorway, you also walk through a light blue barrier of small particles, shivering.
I’ve got a surprise for you after this next test; not a fake tragic surprise like that time. A reeeeal surprise with tragic consequences. And real confetti this time, the good stuff, our last bag. Part of me is going to miss it. but at the end of the day, it was just taking up spa--. A loud explosion cuts the announcement short, filling the speakers with white noise.
You walk into a white elevator that seems to go up forever before it stops. As the doors open, you immediately notice the stark contrast from the test chamber. The long stretch of corridor is jerked awkwardly to one side, made of metal, concrete, and broken glass barely suspended in the air. As you step out of the elevator, you will see that there is miles and miles of…nothing…below you. There is nowhere to go except forward.
As you make your way through the debris, you will notice a familiar bit of orange towards the end of the hallway, which is blocked by a massive piece of concrete. Beyond it, there isn’t much else outside of warped metal and wiring, but the more you look, you realize that these parts were once connected to some kind of piece of machinery that once hung from the ceiling. A single shaft of sunlight from an endless ceiling pinpoints a single figure.
She is tiny…insignificant…amongst the rubble. Her legs have given out, her shoulders slumped forward. The portal gun lies nearby, inactive. You see her body tremble slightly, her breath echoing in the chamber.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-07-25 11:52 pm (UTC)Chell nods slightly.]
no subject
Date: 2011-07-26 05:48 pm (UTC)[ She takes a deep breath. Actually, Minako is sort of lost and not sure what to do either, but.. she has to do something. ]
Can you walk? Maybe if I support you?