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Snippet #2729297

located in The 'RIP', a part of The Multiverse, one of the many universes on RPG.

The 'RIP'

The Davrell Rehabilitation Institute for Paranormals (christened 'The RIP') is the Terran National Government's largest, most secure detention and rehabilitation center for criminals of paranormal or supernatural persuasion. A massive collection of stony towers spiraling out of a Gothic manor, The RIP is a dark place; its intricately designed post-Romanesque architecture both enticing and intimidating. Despite its delicate, artistic appearance, The RIP is one of the most foundationally-sound institutes on Terra, its structure build from a near-indestructible calcyx-marble allatrope blend and laced with a plethora of mighty arcane wards and devout prayers. Responsible for housing and jailing over a thousand "supers" at any given time, The RIP uses only the latest technology, the strongest magics and the most intelligent doctors to secure, control and educate their "guests". The RIP is overseen by director Joran Davrell, a prestigious NPA agent and former university professor.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Maxwell Gilbert Character Portrait: Sgt. Harvey Gladstone Character Portrait: Nyke Demopolous Character Portrait: 1st Lt. Mason Harding Character Portrait: Gorgon Infantry Corps
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Gilbert saluted his superior as nonetheless he was obedient. The lack of a certain sound had made him a little hasty. He followed quietly in a more respectful tone started a short debriefing, "It won't happen again, Sir. Thank you, Sir. Survived is a strong word, Sir, they said I'm 'of Jinhai' now. Glad to be back to serve the corps; I'll hold everything together."

Listening to the periodic debriefing he eyed the soldiers around him looking on as the suit hud curiously marked them all as friendlies categorized 'Humankind'. Same thing the Jinhai called him at first on the slab. The suits normally didn't have this kind of ops package it was analyzing everything at once and he found it hard to keep up. Lines were popping up with firing solutions as soldiers fired and there was something that struck him as stiff and inadequate the way he turned his head to look at them. Some part of it already started collecting facial data on people behind him he wasn't looking at. Ones in earshot he did look at a moment too long a transcribed conversation window started to appear. First order of business was paring down this UI how the hell was he supposed to pay attention to everything? Assuming he could find the controls. Now suit processing busily tried to connect to ops like it had no sense of non-combat.

Gilbert had a powerful need to remove his helmet and hands went up to do so but stopped short as harding offered condolences, "I'll miss the squad sir but I'm glad to be back home."

When he pointed out the tent Gilbert looked on and saluted, "Sir, Yes Sir! I should report that i'm reasonably sure I'm not a cyborg but I don't know what they've done exactly. I don't have any breathing as far as I can tell but it definitely wasn't the hospital that put me together. Some meat locker underneath it with hundreds of half-built civvies and dusty humanoids in black. They brought finished ones back to life somehow but I didn't see the package or any of my squad before they put me under if there are bodies missing. Suit hud medical is completely non-standard where the only thing I recognize is bone integrity which makes no sense with everything else missing. My minigun has some stats and strange tech installed but operable. Along with a high ammo rebuild it estimates 20 liters of nanites available. It'll take a some downtime to investigate. Not sure what the rest of me is made of since that's roughly 30 liters too low. Minigun does suppressive fire with the quickness now though but I need to identify its added functions."

He would wait a moment to see if the Lt had anything for him in reply then head into the tent.