Tunnelling Temtesh - a WipEout themed Roleplay

[Challenger #001]

[Skillcheck UB3R~JKP - 12]

Acosta's eyes went wide as the men before him were knocked aside, leaving just one guard behind him and the angry Scot before him wielding a FEISAR super rocket. The comparison to another certain explosives-happy man from Ullapool crossed his mind temporarily before he began to back away slowly. His stun pistol still was raised though, pointing at the man standing before him before suddenly the missile seemed to realise it wanted free.

It burst out of Ben's hands and went shooting through the gap between Joao and his crony, vanishing into the tunnel beyond. The burly Brazilian looked like he was going to make a dive for it, but the rocket clattered to the floor and lay motionless, the red light still blinking.

"A dud," the Triakis pilot murmured, glaring back at Ben as he got to his feet. "Nice try buddy. Missiles always have used targeting systems - never just metal seekers." His friend vanished back into the corridor to pick up the missile and take it back to base as he blocked the way for Ben, his friends picking themselves up.

"Now then... are you going to be nice and easy, or are we going to have to wring the info out of you?" he asked icily.

---

[Skillcheck XR_GTR - 3(-2=1)]

Maria's eyes narrowed even further as she closed her spectacles and loomed before the boy. Even at over fifty, the scientist made for an imposing form as she glared at him. "In offices buried underground for thirty years? Offices that never belonged to Auricom in the first place?"

A quartet of men soon turned up behind Mark, their eyebrows raising at the sight of the young boy wandering around, obviously unprepared and unthinking.

"C'mon kid," one of the burlier men said as he placed his hand on Mark's shoulder. "You come with us. You can explain yourself to Mr McNaughton," he said with reference to the chief of Triakis.

---

[Skillcheck trackripper - 11]

Cheung's suit did not seem to want to let its' owner get back into the world easily. The pale fluid that had kept the pilot in suspension for so long was ejected messily out of a pipe on his neck, the material splattering across the floor of the cavern in a gelatinous mess. The glass began to retract slowly, and the mask popped itself off Paul's face, leaving the Chinaman gasping for air as he lay there, his eyes still sealed shut. He was still adjusting to breathing actual air - stale and musty air from down in the bottom of the mines maybe, but it wasn't 30-year-old recycled stuff. He took a great breath, and opened his eyes.

He stared at Ge, his head tilting oddly in the same way a bird might cock its' head at a curiosity before it. His shoulders rolled lightly, breath coming in short gasps as he attempted to get his body back and functioning. He opens his mouth and through age-old, water-deprived lips, he speaks.

"They blew my ship... didn't they?" His dialect was a clipped, almost halting Chinese that Ge might have been able to place as being from the north-west of his homeland, near the Korean border. The dryness of his throat doesn't make it easy to tell though. "Water... please."

---

(If we can have more people included so I don't have to keep skillchecking, would be much appreciated. Also for anyone who wants to include themselves in the play, PLEASE try and make a decent character that actually looks like he might apply to this setting.)