bakerstreet | it's coming.

it's coming.

the SCI-FI SURVIVAL meme

You ever seen the movie Alien? Well, in case you haven't, the premise is simple: Sigourney Weaver has to survive on a spaceship with an alien that's trying to kill her. But maybe for your character, they've crash-landed on an alien planet. Maybe they're stuck in an abandoned spaceport. The important factor is this: Something is trying to kill them. Can they survive?

Top level. Please include any relevant preferences (scenario, type of alien, how dark or gory you want things to get).
Comment around! Are you helping people survive their close encounter... or are you the alien?
Have fun! (Or else.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Dark and gory is fine by me, be as descriptive as you like! Her canon is just as well for this, but otherwise I prefer mashups or fake jamjar/game settings for mutual ground. Down for any kind of sci-fi rather than just the "alien" option, as well. ]

Edited 2023-01-19 15:04 (UTC)

[I'm down for a JamJar type setting. Just wanted to make sure you were cool with the Wraith (from John's canon) or if you'd rather a completely made-up alien spook? Also, Prose or Brackets?]

[ I'm super familiar with the canon, so Wraiths are fine by me. I prefer brackets, but I don't mind if you reply in prose or would prefer it overall. ]

[John was getting used to waking up in environments that he didn't recognise in the slightest. So when he opened his eyes and found that he wasn't in the small apartment that has been home for the past couple months. Each of these scenarios, as he understood it, were pulled from the memories of the other captives here. Sitting up from the cold floor and a quick glance around told him rather quickly just where this one came from. Either himself or Ronon.

Lights were flickering in the techno-organic room. If he had to guess, he was coming to in the Queen's interrogation chamber but there was no Queen to be found. Was this a derelict Hive ship? That would be in their favour at least. Few if any Wraith to contend with would be a relief.

The familiar sound of the alarm started going off, running a chill up his spine. That wasn't good. It meant the Hive was functional enough and that there was at least one Wraith around to set off the alarm. John reached for his P90 but found it missing. A quick examination of his surroundings helped him locate Ronon's Magnum. He just hoped, wherever Ronon was, that he had John's P90. An inventory check of his tactical vest produced two clips for his Barretta, which was still strapped to his thigh, a flashbang, and his combat knife.

Footsteps caught his attention and made him still. They weren't heavy or confident enough to be Wraith. A woman rounded the corner with caution. An assessment of her told him she was experienced with the weapon she held. He didn't move when she came into view. He had the Particle Magnum pointed at the ground, his other hand was out, showing that he wasn't a threat.]

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. [He offered his name and rank in a hushed voice as a sort of "please don't shoot me, I'm on your side" gesture.]

[ Jill's been knocked-out before, but she's never surprised when something strange happens. She adapts easily -- or at least she puts on the facade of it. It's one of her many skills and one she makes a point of ensuring others are aware of. Thus far, she's managed to assert herself, but run into no one. It feels like she's in some kind of laboratory, but she's uncertain. Regardless, she knows that she'll be fine. She has to be.

The lights flicker, but they don't have that familiar hum of fluorescence that she's used to with the kind of cool brightness that illuminates them. It's not exactly worrisome, but it's something that sticks in the back of her mind. She has no gun, but she has her trusty knife at her side and as long as she's got that and her body, she should be fine.

Her pace is quick and assured as she scans each room she comes across down the corridor she rushes down; it's utterly unfamiliar architecture and it nearly makes her sweat. Luckily the baseball cap catches anything that beads on her forehead, but the sound of someone approaching opposite is enough to have her all the more alert. Knife in hand, she pauses at the bend and part of her is relieved to find someone. Still, she stands like she's ready to launch herself at any minute, her knife raised and eyes nearly wild. ]

Jill Valentine, Special Operations Agent and founding member of the BSAA, North American Branch. Former Delta Force, United States Army. [ She follows suit, lifting both hands now in a way that suggests that she's in control of the situation somehow, going for her hip to pull out an identification card. It has a forward-facing photo of her, states her identification number, clearance (highest), height (5'4"), and that "BSAA" is an acronym for Biohazard Security Assessment Alliance along with a visible emblem for the group. She holds it to him with an outstretched arm. She doesn't assume anything based on his accent. ] What country and organization are you with?

[ She's cautious as she waits for him to take her identification, not pushing forward or pulling back. ]

Well, that's a mouth full. [John didn't reach for the ID but he did read over it quickly when she held it out. He gave her an affirmative nod and weighed his options for answers. To hell with the NDA in a pocket dimension. If he was going to keep people safe on a Wraith Hive, he'd have to be front and centre about the truth.]

United States Air Force; ranking military officer on the Atlantis Expedition and leader of AR-1. Uh, that's Atlantis Recon 1. [Sheppard answered and tapped the patch on his right shoulder that displayed the Atlantis Pegasus Galaxy logo.] Agent Valentine, you're on a space ship that's usually teaming with life sucking aliens. It sounds insane, believe me, I know, but just trust me on this one, okay? That alarm going off is going to wake up the Wraith and they're gonna start hunting us down pretty quickly.

Please tell me you're packing a little more heat than that knife. These guys don't go down easy, and unless you're used to them, I wouldn't recommend close combat. They've got a feeding thing in their hand that feels worse than a knife in the eye if it reaches you and is twice as lethal. [Information overload was Rodney's thing, but since the good doctor wasn't here, he'd have to be the Wraith encyclopaedia for now. It helped that his natural ability to lead in dire situations kept his head clear enough to relay the most important information succinctly. She was special ops, which meant he wasn't babysitting a civilian, either. That was a huge relief.]

[In the far distance, he could hear several Wraith stunners going off followed by silence with no other weapons fire. That... wasn't a good sign. John cursed and tightened his hold on the particle magnum.] We've gotta get out of the open. The Queen's Chamber is not where I wanna be if we get swarmed in case there actually is a Queen on board.