The First RP Thread Ever

[Bloodcider]

This thread is for role playing (not sexually) and possibly trying to time travel. I leave it up to Tom to deal with anyone who decides to try and cripple this legendary first RP. Maybe he'll even hug you with plasma armor.
SO IT BEGINS:
-----

Douglas Jensen pushed open the tattered remains of the screen door to his back porch, perplexed and amazed that sometime during the night his back yard had become a pond. Trees stuck up from the surface here and there at odd angles, having been uprooted and cast aside by powerful winds. The storm had hit a lot harder than anyone could have anticipated, but this was ridiculous.

It was late June, and a landmark heat wave had been devouring New England for the past few weeks. It had been regarded as the worst heat wave on record, and the news said there was no end in sight. He'd been on vacation with the family up in Maine when it started, and at the start of the horrific third week, work had called and told him not to bother coming in - they had closed down shop until the heat wave was over. None of the workers, it seemed, were too keen on landscaping in 135-degree weather. So they stayed up here at the summer home his father built.

Then all of the sudden, presto-chango, all that heat turned into a nice big hurricane right above their heads. They'd taken shelter in the basement, listening to trees crash and windows shatter and thunder exploding through the night sky. The power had gone out, no doubt many lines had gone down in the storm, and they had fallen asleep by candlelight.

It was seven in the morning now, and Doug was inspecting his new found lakefront property, wondering how he was going to get rid of it before it became a stagnant breeding ground for all kinds of nasty things. In the distance, he could hear the buzzing of chainsaws from his neighbors, cleaning up the trees that had fallen into their property. It wasn't hard to imagine many a pine through a picture window.

"How bad is it?" His wife, Chelsea, found her way out into the backyard behind him.
"I'm gonna say pretty bad." Doug replied, scratching his beard thoughtfully, his eyes darting around his yard as if looking for something specific, "Is Adrian asleep?"
"Yes, I just put him to bed. He didn't really sleep last night, you know?" She replied, wandering up beside him. She was in her nightgown and slippers still.
"I don't think any of us did," Doug said, "You should go back inside Chels, or at least put some shoes on if you're going to be out here."

She turned and went back towards the house, and he called after her, "If Adrian gets up and decides he wants to go exploring outside, don't let him. There's bound to be live wires lying around all over the place." He saw her visibly stiffen at the thought of their 6 year old being electrocuted.
"Just keep him inside. Or where you can see him. When he gets up."

Chelsea disappeared back into the house, Doug turned back to the accumulation of water. He walked over and stood just at its edge, looking down at his own reflection looking back up at him. His yard was pretty big, and it bowled in the middle. The pond could've been a few feet deep at most. Doug sighed and rubbed his sleep-deprived eyes with the palms of his hands, feeling a chill despite the humidity in the air around him. Except the chill persisted.

He removed his hands from his eyes as he felt his skin goosebump, blinking a few times. He was no longer staring at a reflection of himself. He was staring at dirt where there had just been water and grass. Confused, he looked around, slowly at first, and then wildly. He was no longer in his back yard, but in a forest of some kind. It was dark, and a heavy fog curled through the trees. He could see no further than fifteen feet at most, and then the trees became black columns like bruises against the fog, and then disappeared entirely. He rubbed his eyes again, but the image persisted. He stepped around a few times and even gingerly touched one of the tall trees, and it was all real.

He was there, now.

[-Lemon-]

I'm not going to contribute to this since I suck at English... However, I will continue to read this and I want to see some time traveling and awesome sword battles.

[Scruffington]

It's actually not all that important to write well. As long as your character actually does things, you can do whatever you want. BC and I have been in quite a few of these were there are thirty characters and all they do is talk to each other about things. No plot advancement whatsoever. For five days. Nothing but talking. And remember, the more convoluted your character is, the better. Anyhow.

-----

"So this is what it feels like to be on top of the world," Maxwell Pyrik thought, smiling his perfectly fake smile, "I have these jackasses eating out the palm of my hand." His presentation was going as smoothly as possible. Although he couldn't quite see because of the incredibly bright lights shining down on him from above, he was certain that he could feel the positive energy flowing from the crowd. He was going to make some serious sales here today. "I'm serious, ladies and gentlemen, without the power of the Hyperion Ab-Blaster 500, I would have never been able to get the body that I have today," Max said, flexing both his biceps in what he perceived to be an impressive show of power. There was a bout of straggled applause that lasted for a while, but died off when Maxwell put his grin into overdrive. Desperate to keep the applause going - he had a fanatical belief that if the audience isn't clapping, you're not doing it right - he flexed even harder, and broke out in a nervous sweat.

"Oh god, they're turning on me," Max muttered between clenched teeth, the sweat beginning to give his skin a fever-like sheen, "If I don't do something quick I'm gonna blow this." While staying hunched over, Max relaxed one arm and switched on the Hyperion Ab-Blaster 500 that was attached to his torso. The next thing he knew, he was staring face up at the bright lights, and a few paramedics were looking over him. "What happened?" Maxwell asked, his eyes struggling to adjust.

"Just lie back, you stupid beach-fluff cunt," One of the paramedics said from behind a thick moustache, "You're lucky that stupid ab-contraption you put on yourself didn't kill you." When Maxwell indicated his confusion, one of his companions elaborated. "Whoever made that thing decided that it was a good idea to improperly insulate some of the wires on the inside. You started sweating, the fabric got a little wet, and made contact with the wire, and when you turned it on, you burst into flames and collapsed. We're told it was pretty cool."

"Did they turn the cameras off?" Max asked, closing his eyes, as he started to feel slightly cold despite the bright lights, "This is strike three for me, bros. If my boss finds out, I'm finished. Finito. Fucked. You guys have no idea how much -"

Maxwell opened his eyes and realized he was no longer staring straight up into a the stage's lighting system, but a dense canopy of trees. He quickly got to his feet and looked around, and was startled to find that he was no longer at the Kansas City Worldwide Fitness Convention Extravaganza 1996, but in what appeared to be the middle of a very large forest. He suddenly felt very naked and exposed, as he realized he was wearing nothing but a blackened and charred Hyperion Ab-Blaster 500, some bright yellow spandex he had found backstage and a pair of sneakers.

He was about to shout to see if anyone was around, when he suddenly had the sense that someone was behind him. Sure enough, he turned around and came to face a middle aged man who seemed to be staring intently at one of the trees.

"Damn man, who the hell are you and what the hell am I doing here?" Max asked, his Californian accent coming through strong.

[Bloodcider]

Doug whirled around at the sound of the man’s voice. He stood just a few feet away, in a space that was just empty not moments ago, wearing spandex and what looked like a burnt girdle. He was also pretty muscular and Doug didn’t doubt that this man could break him in half if he really wanted to.
“Whoa buddy, whoa. I don’t want no trouble,” Doug said quickly, raising his hands, “I dunno how I got here. I dunno where here is.”

He looked around for the umpteenth time. The trees and the fog offered no answers. This man had either come from the fog or he had been waiting here the whole time, hiding behind a tree for Doug to show up. But how? How had he shown up?

“One minute I’m in my back yard, the next minute I’m standin’ in the middle of the woods,” He continued saying, perhaps hoping to delay the man from springing upon him, “Just what the hell is going on here?”

[Scruffington]

"Woah man, me too," Max said, backing up to give Doug a little more personal space when he realized he was making him feel uncomfortable, "I was making the best sale of my life and all of a sudden everything goes wrong and here I am." Max took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "This is like an episode of Star Trek when the crew is like fucking teleported all over the place and then nobody knows what's going on. Pretty soon I'll bet someone else comes along and then we learn some more." Max paused, as if he really, truly expected something else to happen. After a good thirty seconds of nothing but the sound of rustling leaves overhead, Max shrugged his shoulders. "I guess this isn't like some Star Trek shit after all, dude. Maybe we should start walking?"

[Bloodcider]

"I guess." Doug said after a long enough pause, "but where... Actually fuck it."
He started walking aimlessly in a direction, with Max following. Every which way looked the same, and for all he knew, it was north, south east, or whatever else.
"This has to be a dream. A really fucking wierd dream." He said alloud, but to himself, "Has to be. Nightmare because of the storm. Maybe I'll just wake up."

He expected to wake up just after saying that. He closed and opened his eye several times, but the forest remained. Now, he was getting fairly scared. It wasn't a panic, it was deep, grounded fear far within himself. He was feeling it because a good part of his mind was telling him he wasn't in a dream.

This happened within precious seconds, and within that time, Doug realized something else.
"Shh shh - Do you hear that?" he said, holding a hand up for Max to stop talking (even though he had yet to make a sound).

They listened. They heard nothing. Nothing. The forest was silent. Not a chirp, a cricket, a chitter. Just the rustling of leaves overhead as the trees swayed from some small breeze.

But then, there was something. Almost like hissing, almost like breathing, but not quite either. It wasn't - couldn't be - the wind, it wasn't blowing strong enough. Was it the mist?
Did mist make noise?

[Scruffington]

Max stopped dead in his tracks when Doug indicated that he should listen. He couldn't hear anything especially out of place - he had lost a good portion of his hearing when he had decided that the best place to be in a Pantera concert was right next to the majority of their sound system - but he figured that Doug wouldn't want any extra noise. After a few moments of Max waiting patiently for Doug to move in the direction of the sound or dismiss it completely, he did begin to hear something strange. Looking up, Max found himself inches away from having his head clamped down upon by a pair of sharp, jagged mandibles. Leaping backwards in surprise, Max shouted at Doug to get out of the way. The creature screeched and slowly lowered itself down to the ground. Max observed with a significant degree of horror that the creature resembled some sort of human-arachnid cross, with the thorax of an adult female but the abdomen and appendages of a tarantula, including the aforementioned mandibles which seemed to have completely replaced the jaw. The creature turned to face Max, evidently unaware of Doug's presence. Screeching yet again, the creature began to scurry towards him, its mandibles clicking together furiously.

Even though Max had a burning, overwhelming desire to run, he found himself rooted in place, unable to move. He felt his fists tighten as the creature closed the gap between him with frightening speed. When the two were within striking distance, the creature made to bite at Max's unprotected neck. Max acted without thinking. As he stepped sideways to avoid the creature's lunge, he haphazardly brought one knee up into its chest and both fists down onto its head. With a sickening crunch, the creature fell to the ground motionless, a surprisingly large amount of blood beginning to flow from its cracked skull. Max took a few steps back, beginning to shake with all the adrenaline that was flowing through his system. He resisted the urge to smile as he stared at the creature he had just destroyed with his bare hands.

"Man," Max said, laughing nervously as he rubbed his hands, "I should be taking orders for fitness equipment right now. What the fuck is going on?"

If Doug was going to answer, he didn't get a chance. Two more spider creatures were beginning to lower themselves down from the treetops. It seemed the creature's screeches had alerted its friends.

[Bloodcider]

Anybody else probably would have shouted "Run!", or something similar, but Doug simply took off in a blind sprint into the mist. He heard the heavy footfalls of Max close behind him but didn't look back to see - less he run head on into a tree. The harrowing cry of the spider creatures chased after them, spurring Doug to run faster, but his legs were already failing him.

Strands were starting to come down from above, almost invisible in the mist. They shot down infront of him, clinging to his shoulders as he ran through. There were several of them, each almost as thick as his pinky finger. He grabbed and yanked them off, and suddenly cried out as pain shot through his hand. The strands - webbing, maybe - were toxic. The pain subsided quickly though and was replaced with a chilling numbness.
Doug kept running.

He heard Max screaming behind him, and he realized he must've been hit by the toxic webbing as well. Except Max didn't have the advantage of clothing, he was stuck in spandex. Doug slowed and turned his head - he saw Max down on one knee, tearing desperately at the webs.
The thought of leaving him behind didn't even occur to Doug. He stopped and ran back to him.

Doug planned on hooking an arm around him and maybe just keep trying to run some more, but as he got to Max, one of the creatures made an appearance. It was charging towards Max in much the same manner Doug was. They reached the downed man at the same time, it's mandibles going for his flesh.
He acted without thought and brought his boot up, planting it squarely in the spider's chest. His momentum and force halted its attack and knocked it back, but did little else.

Doug, on the other hand, fell over and rolled away to his knees, desperately out of breath. He looked and saw Max on his feet again, visibley disturbed (Doug guessed the web's numbing sensation had kicked in for him too). The creature recovered from Doug's half-assed attack and came back at them.

[Scruffington]

Max could feel himself slowing down. At first, when he hit the webbing, there was the searing pain, but it was quickly replaced with a disconcerting numbness. His legs were fine, and he was certainly glad that he kept the Hyperion Ab-Blaster on, but his upper body was quickly becoming a glorified paperweight. Through sheer force of will he forced his muscles to continue working, but he could tell that if he didn't get help quickly, he would be in terrible shape. His suspicions were confirmed after a few more moments when he found himself almost completely ensnared, falling to his knees with the strain of pulling the strands off of himself. He was dimly aware that Doug was rushing towards him, and he assumed that one of the spiders was also running towards him. After Doug delivered a telling blow to the creature behind him, Max struggled to get to his feet, ready to try and defend himself from the two spiders that were quickly scurrying towards him.

Before he had a chance to react, a figure emerged out of the mist right beside him. In his delirious state, Max barely had time to register the newcomer before the rifle he was holding went off. It didn't hit the spider creatures, but it seemed to scare them off. Max turned to face their savior and was very surprised not to see that it was a man wearing a rubber suit, but that there was a swastika directly on the suit's chestplate. From behind an antique gas mask, the man said something in a language Max didn't understand, and beckoned for he and Doug to follow him.

"Is this dude speaking German or something?" Max asked Doug, as the man began to lead them through the mist.

[Bloodcider]

"I think so," Doug said, "I haven't heard much German before though."

"Folgen Sie! Schnell! Die Spinne kommt zurück!" The gas masked man shouted, albeit muffled, quickening his pace.

Doug followed in a fast jog, trying to keep up, but the man seemed excessively good at moving his feet faster than Doug could. Max seemed to be having trouble himself, probably because of whatever venom that webbing had left in his muscles.

Within a minute, they came to a concrete structure within the forest. It seemed very out of place in their surroundings - a small, triangular building with a single steel door, perhaps twenty feet across, but spanning some longer distance back.

The building sat atop a ring of concrete. Doug saw that the edge of the concrete ground didn't simply end naturally, but looked like it was broken off. Along one side of the building ran a length of chainlink fence, but it too ended abruptly where the concrete did, seemingly sheered by something.

Lastly, most of the ground here seemed to have been painted over with a dark red and black ichor. It took Doug a few moments for him to realize what he was looking at was blood. Lots and lots of blood.

The masked man ran up to the steel door and started hitting buttons on a panel next to it. There was a large electric thunk, followed by clanking from within the structure, before the man started turning a valve on the huge door and pulled it open.

"Innerhalb, schnell!" he said, waving them inside.

Max moved ahead of him and entered the building first. Doug was hestitant at first, but willed himself to move, passing through the doorway and hearing the man step in behind them. Inside was a small, white and steel room. Fans circled overhead, and a door stood on the opposite side. The door closed into place behind them, and the man twisted the valve again, locking it.

"Schließen sie ihre augen." the German spoke as he stepped to the center of the room, slinging his gun over his back. A hissing noise eminated from within the vents overhead, and a white mist came through the vans and enveloped the room. It burned and stung his eyes and nostrils, and he doubled over coughing. Max didn't seem to react as badly, as he stood there swearing and rubbing his eyes. The German didn't seem to mind, but then he was in that suit.

The fans began turning faster, and the mist was quickly removed and replaced by a cool air. Doug climbed back to his feet in time to see the door on the opposite side of the room open while the German began taking his mask off.

Two more of them entered the room, eyeing Doug and Max suspiciously. The exchanged words with the rubber suited man before beckoning them over.

"Wer sind sie zwei?" One of them said.
Doug and Max glanced at each other.
"Wie kamen sie her?" The other added, "Wer sind sie?"
Doug tried to think of something to say, but he didn't know German.
"Können sie sprechen?" The first one asked again.
Max was the first of them to speak, "Woah man, I don't speak German, alright?"
"English?" Doug said, "English, anybody?"

The three Germans looked unknowingly at each other much in the same way the two Americans just had,
"Amerikaner," the rubbersuit German said. Doug suddenly and forcefully hoped they weren't holding grudges about the whole World War Two thing.

The three spoke again, rapidly, and led them out of the airlock and into the building. The next room on was a hallway. One of the Germans went dashing away to one of the many doors lining the hall and disappeared inside, before returning moments later with a man in a white lab coat.

"Zey say you are Americans?" he said in broken English, "how did you get here?"
"Well uh," Doug started his sentance intelligently, "I was standing in my back yard, and then all of the sudden I'm standing in a forest, just like that."
"Intereszing..." The scientist spoke, then turned his attention to Max "Vat about you?"