Both Needed Zany Pulp Sci-Fi Adventure!

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Both Needed Zany Pulp Sci-Fi Adventure!

Cheshire Cat

Cheshire Cat

Queen of the Parliament of Cats
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Alright, I'm bored, and I'm sure a bunch of you are too. Now, I've been in the mood for some kind of ... zany, raypunk-inspired, Flash Gordon-esque, over-the-top space fantasy with bikini space suits and birdmen in space and ... you know, all that good 60s sci-fi crap.

The idea, which has a few interested parties already, will be capping out at 5 people. I am sorry, but that's the max. The project will just slow down too much with more people, given my experience with such projects. Now, this will be like ... 70/30 plot smut, but the entire setting is very kind of ... sexy, tawdry, romance-novely, with bubble space helmets and cosmic vixens and three breasted women and space Adonises.

The story so far is as follows:

Project name: #Occupation

An evil is spreading through the universe, planet to planet, taking them one by one. A violent, militaristic, authoritarian regime with a trillion followers and all the best beauty, crafting, and gaming content. The problem is, according to the incredibly socially influential leaders of this evil empire, nothing is happening. Sure, they're hosting events across every planet in every system, and sure those events need massive armies for event security, and sure the whole planet is engulfed in some kind of wild party afterwards, and promptly subscribe, en-mass, to the channel once the party is over ... on penance of death, but that's just how social media works dude. Follars get dollars yo, and dollars can buy you even more influence.

I guess it's worth mentioning that there are a few fakes out there though ... a few people who are saying that all of this is wrong, and isn't voluntary fandom at all, but an occupation or some such jazz. But there are only like ... 5 of them ... so who are you really gonna listen to? The Empire, or the Outcasts?
 
*THRUSTS SELF OVER ZEALOUSLY INTO THREAD* Yes, one space kitten cadet signing up for this zany idea!
 
Yay, my kitty pirate sister from the cat planet of Felinus 9 ... work in progress ...

Now! For applications, we're gonna do this a lil differntly!

I dun want a profile, I dun want you to ask if we're accepting, I will accept only two kinds of posts;
1) Questions
2) A 2-4 paragraph intro for your would-be character in whatever zany action they are likely to find themselves in on a normal space-day.

It's also worth noting, this is going to be a bit of a lit project, so if you dun feel like you wanna wade through a lot of dense text, maybe not the best project to apply for. I know a lot of people like short-form posting, but this project kind of calls for a lil over-the-top-ness.
 
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For the record, Kitty and I are naughty pirate sisters from the Catgirl planet of something something we're still naming :P

We suspect there will be little room for proper pirating if this whole universal takeover thing goes through, so ... y'know ... Woohoo Resistance.
 
*Drop pod crashes into the thread skidding to a halt. A heavily armored boot kicks the door away* Dread trooper 1701 reporting!
 
Yay, I look forward to everyone's submission, and the painful process of choosing :P Even Kitty and I will be writing up application intros, and then we'll figure out some kind of mass vote and set the plot points in place for group approval!
 
I'm thinking an AI who was initially programmed to help ensure the hosted events run smoothly (and by that I mean discretely take people out the back who weren't participating), but she gets kidnapped by a branch of The Outcasts and they keep her alive thinking she could be useful to the cause if they can figure out how to reprogram her. Just as a starting point. I can go more into detail if this is a good enough idea!
 
@Alexis L Krogman
I love it, like a sickly trendy AI deathbot who's well aware that she's expendable and can't go back without being recycled for fear that she's been reprogrammed or sumfin! Maybe she's even playing double agent! ^_^ Now ... *steeples her fingers* put in post form for your evil kitty queen :P
 
Do you have a certain way you want me to do this? Just a paragraphed intro with basic info or are you more of a character sheet Evil Kitty Queen?
 
lol, nono, no character sheet, just take whatever liberties you like in making like ... a post from your character's life. Maybe they're approaching a group of uncool people who dun agree with the takeover, or maybe attending a seminar about effective eliminations, or maybe the point where she's captured. This is purely to gauge writing level, style, and if we've all got the same expectation of 60s smutty scifi :P
 
Cleo's intro:

"Space squids. Just had to be space squids!" Cocking her space harpoon she grunts, eyeing the big red button that would open the loading hatch. Oh sure, space squids could be all kinds of fun. But they had to be the right kind. This one? This one was just an asshole. I mean, her ship had been minding it's own damn business when the stupid space squid decided to ink it. Now she had to go collect a 'sample' that they could replicate in the ship's lab to use to clean the ink off. Cleo snaps her helmet into place muttering about stupid space squids and how it should have been a different one. Alas, maybe the next time they were attacked by one it would be the bloody right kind!

With one last look she smashes her hand into the button and the door pops open only for her to be greeted by tentacles secreting the very liquid that they needed! But how to collect the samples? The traditional way would not work. She supposed she would have to improvise letting out a huff as one of her ears flicks in agitation. "Full body massage it is then!" With a ferocious leap, she latches her arms and legs around the tentacle, starting to caress it with her body knowing that yet another spacesuit would be ruined. But it was all in the name of science! Little did she know until after she was done, her sister had already collected the necessary sample meaning her heroic actions were for naught. All they did was leave her with a partially dissolved space suit and that damned sticky fluid all up in her hair thanks to her helmet having been knocked off. Just another day in the life of a space pirate she supposed as she joined her sister for a celebratory drink and soak in the specially made space tub at another successful heist pulled off. Even if that damned space squid had to go and bother other certain...celebrations....
 
Gotcha!


Focus Meter 100%. General Cal Hudson. Prompt 2751: Subject-Alpha Terminations.


"As you all know, you have been specifically designed as the AI Entertainers for this round of our Glorious Leader's 786th Celebration. You are the replacements for AIs 78345-b, 78345-k, and 78345-z. You now know your places as 78346-b, 78346-k, and 78346-z. It is an incredible honor for you to be created to serve, as this is your sole purpose. You have been programmed to keep the peace within the Glorious Leader's Celebrations which means socializing with guests, giving pamphlets, reading minds, etc. But this role also includes taking care of certain threats posed to his illustriousness. Every part of your bodies is a weapon. This slideshow will show you your full capabilities and the designated termination blocks that will be located around this Celebration."

It is so much information to take in. All the hidden blades and poisons within my own form. It is strange though, having no experience of my own and yet knowing everything at once. They salvaged what they could from 78345-z to keep my data banks up to date, and it is clear that I have been blessed with her knowledge. I know that she had approximately two-hundred and ninety-three appropriated terminations before her form was lost. With her skill, I will no doubt be a valuable AI Entertainer. Doing her termination number justice will be a challenge, but I am more than ready to face it. My data base easily takes in every inch of the Celebration Palace's floor plan. It is all I can do to keep our Glorious Leader safe and his Illustrious Agenda on the rise. None can escape. Not at my hands.
 
1701 the last of a defunded government program that the politicians decided to scrap. The decision did not come lightly; the unit had performed far better than expected. But accidents had happened, and the leader of the group 1701 was at the heart of it. Others in the group were taking his stance on the new Force stroming across the planets and unwilling to accept a stand-down order. The unit lead by 1701 stormed a meeting of this group, killing several mid-level bosses. When it was over, the whole unit was incarcerated and taken back to the training ground. Once there, they were locked down and put on the prison ships heading for the prison planet Bale. There they would remain in cryo for all time.

The landing did not go as planned; several of the pods crashed into the sulfurous waters near the volcanos. Others crashed into the volcanos themselves. 1701, on the other hand, crashed into a black ops laboratory once they had stripped him of his armor they exposed him to dozens of tests and experiments to make him more durable but also to control him. His flesh burned, shot, and stabbed. The attempts to manipulate his mind and make him their loyal monster went wrong. Resulting in his first full snap, he spared no one in that part of the facility; the rage blinded him to everything. The only thing that rattled inside of his mind was the force this group that was spreading everywhere, and he had to end them.

Arriving at the spaceport, he looked around his armor, caked in blood on the fists and feet of the armor. He pushed passed some guards and looked up at the monitors tilting his head as he watched the news feed a bit. He clenched his big fists "cults.. bad.." His voice sounded like an old space ship engine and growled more and smashed the monitor. It shattered into fragments of glass and circuit boards. Some of the guards who seemed to be recruits to this force of evil drew weapons and leveled them at him. More of them came rushing into the area of the spaceport bar travelers had barely cleared out before the shooting started.

1701 clenched his big fists, his rage radiating through the armor as he slowly turned, seeing the pins of the evil was all it took. "Must... Kill... Them... All!" He roared as he charged the first two guards, both of them opened fire with their blaster some of the shots hitting others going wide. 1701 grabbed the first guard by the arm and wrenched it like it was nothing he then used that guard to beat the other one down. He left them a bloody mess on the floor. The other guards saw this and started to shoot more hitting bystanders in the process. 1701 dashed between the guards and a group of gorgeous women shielding them from the indiscriminate fire of the cultist guards. When he felt that the ladies had taken cover, he turned to the guards and charged again, grabbing one of the metal standing tables. Closing the distance on them, he raised it and slammed the edge into the chest of number three the crunch, and the blood sprayed over his armor.

The last three guards looked to one another after seeing the dismemberment of the others and then bolted out the door. 1701 roared in rage at their retreat, breaking the tabletop off the base of the table and bending the end, making a spear. Going to the entrance of the bar and taking careful aim, he sends the improvised spear sailing. It impaled the guard in the back of the line first, but the strength that he had thrown it with sent that guard flying into the other two piercing all of them. At the entrance of the bar still growling in rage, he knew there more out there possibly on this planet he needed to find them and end them.

The ladies were happy to be saved and braved the armored seven feet of rage to try and calm him down to soothe his anger. He looked to them, almost confused, tilting his head as he looked at them. "Must end the cult.." His voice was gravely now. The ladies did not seem to care and ushered him along to their ship to clean him up and get him off this planet for saving them.
 
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After safely travelling across the Parvusian Circlet, a particularly hazardous asteroid belt that required either extremely skillful piloting, or a vessel with enough armor to puncture through the barrier carelessly, Titanna landed on the medieval planet of Olgaard for a drink. Civilization be damned, if there was one thing those ragged creatures had mastered, it was their mead. And so, clad in nothing but her chainmail breastplate, skirt, and leather boots, she made her way into one of their taverns and threw something gold and shiny at the bartender. That earned her a few nasty looks, but her eyes only met the golden suds that filled her mug. Two more hefty servings followed, before her eye was caught by a sterling mountain of a man, with legs as thick as tree trunks. Shirking her inhibitions about laying with anything from such an un-advanced planet, she ordered another drink to gift the dashing brute and dismounted from her seat.

He was a ogre among his people, standing high above the heads of the other patrons in the mead house, but when he turned his head to face the sound of approaching footsteps, his vision was overtaken by her substantial, silver-plated bosom. With a grunt, Titanna pushed the drink into his hands (also smaller than hers), and watched as it was wastefully spilled onto the earthy-smelling wood floor by a third party. In all the Gunbarian Princess's zeal, she'd failed to realize her prize had been spoken for by a creature shorter than the male, but just as impressively stocky. Titanna's fists closed in preparation, but before contact could be made, the equally brutish woman stuck her finger in Titanna's face and opened her maw to issue a challenge. "Ye think you can just waltz in 'ere, tits in one hand, beer in another, and steal whatever man yew want?" she demanded, turning heads from all corners of the establishment. "He's mine. And fer going to the trouble of approaching 'im to my face, I 'ave no choice but to challenge ye to a duel. A fight to the death, for the conservation of my man's honor!"

In a matter of minutes, both women were standing outside within a drunken ring of villagers, all excited to watch Titanna's impressive figure in action. The prize in question, her opponent's husband, stood in the sidelines, still awestruck that a being like the princess could've pursued him at all. His wife drew her weapon, a battle-axe that even by Titanna's standards looked heavy, and flourished it a few times to display her skill. "Right! Your favored arm, then!" she barked from her end of the circle, sparking a round of jeers from the other drunks, who saw no apparent weapon on the offender's mostly naked body. Completely stoic, she reached for her waist and unclipped a thick box that had been dangling from her belt. A hand on either side, she pulled it apart, and revealed how its inner mechanisms unfolded into a weapon of her own. To their primitive minds, it was an oddly-shaped mace or hammer, with little transparent panels that glowed red, but she knew the truth. The Ass-Blaster 9000 was the most compact laser cannon she had in her collection, but it packed more than enough punch to deal with one ornery spouse.

The fight suddenly began, seemingly because some random voice in the crowd demanded that it be, but Titanna was ready. With a roar, the wife began bearing down on Titanna, axe raised over her head and prepared to swing, when the trigger was pulled. A flash of red, a futuristic buzz, and the charging woman was reduced to ashes. Most of the crowd then chose the opportunity to run, but her quick aim kept the now widowed man frozen in his tracks. Cannon pointed right at his crotch, Titanna gave him a wink. "Your pants. Off."
 
--withdrawn--​
because blackout drunk is never a good time to write up a character introduction...
 
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