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4/29/2025, 6:42:29 PM
>>6231851
You awoke suddenly, like a light switch, and the first thing you could feel was an intense, turbulent vibration. You can't see. You can't move. Your violently churning stomach drops as you feel momentum carry you... down? Sideways? You're unable to tell, maybe both? BANG! Fuck, fuck, fuck, your mind races. A red light above your head activates, dimly illuminating the inside of the pod you've inhabited for the past 742 years. All you can see in front of your face is metal. You're going faster. This isn't how it was supposed to work. The pods were only supposed to jettison like this in emergencies. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your imagination runs wild. A scene from some old movie where a guy gets cooked alive in a pod like this as his crewmates helplessly watch. You panic. You notice the awful smell. You try to scream, but vomit instead. The smell gets worse. You're going faster. It's getting hot. The smell somehow gets even worse. They were supposed to put us down in the fucking shuttles! Faster. More turbulence.A sudden roar, and momentum reverses itself. Your body is shoved upward, you bang your head, and fall back into unconsciousness.
You awaken again, somehow. Blood has caked on your face, and your former stomach contents likewise have dried on your jumpsuit. You open the one eye not covered in your various juices and see... the sky. Thank fuck the terraforming drones worked, or else you'd have suffocated by now.
With great difficulty and exertion you wrench yourself out of the pod and roll ungracefully over the side, falling onto the soft, grassy ground.
None of the decisions that led you here were objectively smart, but you made them all the same. This is because you are (or rather, were):
(Pick One)
>A rebel on the run.
>A fool and a dreamer.
>Full of piss and vinegar.
>Write-In.
While the majority of your belongings were stored in the habitation you were assigned on the ship, someday to be detached, de-orbited, and become a prefabricated apartment block, you were encouraged to use the storage space in your sleeper for a few vital items. In addition to some emergency supplies and personal items, you decided to store:
(Pick Two)
>A weapon, ammunition, and some related gear.
>Extra food, water, and means of water purification.
>A set of basic tools, farming implements, and seeds.
>Money, in the form of precious metal coins.
>Your personal android. (Provide a name, you degenerate.)
You awoke suddenly, like a light switch, and the first thing you could feel was an intense, turbulent vibration. You can't see. You can't move. Your violently churning stomach drops as you feel momentum carry you... down? Sideways? You're unable to tell, maybe both? BANG! Fuck, fuck, fuck, your mind races. A red light above your head activates, dimly illuminating the inside of the pod you've inhabited for the past 742 years. All you can see in front of your face is metal. You're going faster. This isn't how it was supposed to work. The pods were only supposed to jettison like this in emergencies. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your imagination runs wild. A scene from some old movie where a guy gets cooked alive in a pod like this as his crewmates helplessly watch. You panic. You notice the awful smell. You try to scream, but vomit instead. The smell gets worse. You're going faster. It's getting hot. The smell somehow gets even worse. They were supposed to put us down in the fucking shuttles! Faster. More turbulence.A sudden roar, and momentum reverses itself. Your body is shoved upward, you bang your head, and fall back into unconsciousness.
You awaken again, somehow. Blood has caked on your face, and your former stomach contents likewise have dried on your jumpsuit. You open the one eye not covered in your various juices and see... the sky. Thank fuck the terraforming drones worked, or else you'd have suffocated by now.
With great difficulty and exertion you wrench yourself out of the pod and roll ungracefully over the side, falling onto the soft, grassy ground.
None of the decisions that led you here were objectively smart, but you made them all the same. This is because you are (or rather, were):
(Pick One)
>A rebel on the run.
>A fool and a dreamer.
>Full of piss and vinegar.
>Write-In.
While the majority of your belongings were stored in the habitation you were assigned on the ship, someday to be detached, de-orbited, and become a prefabricated apartment block, you were encouraged to use the storage space in your sleeper for a few vital items. In addition to some emergency supplies and personal items, you decided to store:
(Pick Two)
>A weapon, ammunition, and some related gear.
>Extra food, water, and means of water purification.
>A set of basic tools, farming implements, and seeds.
>Money, in the form of precious metal coins.
>Your personal android. (Provide a name, you degenerate.)
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