BIO Spess Men Backstories (Alt Title: ENTIRE CREW IS EX-MILITARY)

Discussion in 'Tales From Liberty Space!' started by Jawn Mancer, Jun 25, 2013.

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  1. CaptnRogers

    CaptnRogers Active Member

    So I don't really have a worked up back story to my character yet or maybe even ever. However I can give an understanding of how my character came to be. You see this character has actually evolved with me in a way. I use Jim in most stories, plots, ideas, games, and whatever else I am doing. I have other characters but Jimmy is my go to guy. You see Jim was the result of my childhood (no idea how old). I used to write about stuff. Don't even remember what about but Jim was a childish prick which was basically me. As I grew up Jim changed with me and became this white knight good guy who was to be honest boring as hell. At some point I became lazy and my writing stopped. Jim in a way died and stopped being used as I went to college.

    After years of being a lazy bastard and stuff happening I got my shit together and Jimmy returned but not as myself. Jim became my dad. An imperfect man with many faults and failures and addictions. Jim was what I considered my hero but fallen and sad. The more I wrote this character out (at this point I wrote in some group online) the more I realized how awesome my dad was. Instead of the bad guy that I made him out to be. Jim became sort of my monument to my father and was in some odd way my reconnection to him...

    With all of that said that Is not the Jimmy Rogers we know today. The Jim character I use now is me again but my crappier side. Its me but observing the parts of myself that I hate or refuse to acknowledge. Jim is in many ways played and wrote as a dick. He acts out against authority at times and is a terrible addict. He keeps people at a distance. Jim will only do things that help him and if things are sitting around that he can use they will end up on his person. (even if they aren't for him to take) Jim is the Part of me I want to bring to the light and force myself to work out. Jim is the me I hate and wish to remove. So Jim is me and I am Jim. Sort of....

    Edit: I might make a back story at some point for Jim... might..
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  2. Fatman

    Fatman Active Member

    Mr Wise, you're not just immune to fuel tank explosions, you're immune to all explosions.

    Because you're already dead!
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  3. Kainen

    Kainen Fabulous-min

    He also grants passive immunity to shitcurity and griffins during his stay on our GLORIOUS LIBERTY STATION.
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  4. MiziBooBoo

    MiziBooBoo Guest

  5. MiziBooBoo

    MiziBooBoo Guest

    Spinoff, not canon...

    I continued my training in law enforcement, perfecting my skills in human weaponry. I was leading a team of mixed special operatives on a training exercise at a pseudo station, though at the time we were led to believe that it was a real syndicate outpost. We were to infiltrate and secure information by eliminating the crew and hacking into the captains computers database and retrieving information on future syndicate strikes against nanotrasen. When we arrived, we were not prepared for what we were about to go up against, dear god the horror...

    We boarded the station only to be greeted by a tune that emanated from the depths of the ship, a tune that almost seemed like 20th century rap music, and the ship carried the appearance of a regular syndicate ship, basked dim red lights, but was in terrible condition. It was beyond the excuse of lack of care, this ship had suffered a horrendous fate already. The flooring and walls had many hole breaches, but seemed to be sealed off with banana foam, how original? The walls showed signs of earlier space vine outspread, but even they did not thrive long as they were a brittle black on the wall the ceased to grow in these horrid conditions. Many airlocks were barely functioning, most of them only opened part way, only to slam back close, spreading sparks in every direction starting a fire that went out almost instantly with nothing on this god forsaken ship to sustain it's short life on. We had to take great care in our steps as various fluids were spread out across the ground, some seemed to be blood, others toxins, or maybe even mechanical oil? There was even small traces of orange juice everywhere. Our atmospheric technician ran an analysis of the air, even that was littered. The air contained a toxin or disease in it that we had never seen before. It was almost like a airborne mind-breaker virus. It showed symptoms of instantaneous insanity. Bibles were found taped to the ceiling, all taped to the same page. All the writing on the pages were scribbled save for psalms 23. The library aboard the ship was completely decimated. It was sealed off by emergency airlocks, seeing through the small windows, it only showed a banner where the library once stood that seemed to somehow flow in the empty recessed of space simply stating, "Books are for chumps." We then went to the kitchen, only to find the animal life forms there. The stations pets had been plasma sealed to the walls, their eyes gouged out and the flesh peeled back from their chest, exposing their broken rib cages and their entrails spread throughout the room like streamers. At this point, the heavy gunner in our group began to vomit. The scent of rotting flesh and the sight of the decaying maggot infested carcasses bore too much for the operative. We then continued to medbay, dreading what we found there...

    We arrived at the hell we found labeled medbay...and the crew too. We saw the syndicate agents dead there, but their bodies brutally dismembered. We had searched them only to discover that they were actually centcom officers according to ID. This was a training exercise that had gone horribly wrong. We looked into genetics only to find a creature that looked like it used to be a monkey. IT was horribly disfigured and showed much aggression, it tripled our size and possessed natural weaponry, we quickly left that area. Checking surgery, it was decorated in the organs of the dead crew members. and cryogenics was the worst. Opening up the cryo tube, blood poured out of it with the skeleton of a man draped in wizard attire. We had enough of medbay and went on to the bar. The bar was not as bad, it stank of alcohol and the furniture was all broken, there appeared to be a rather large fire here at one point. Pun-pun was actually still alive, but he was beyond our saving. He was on the meat spike and there was no sense in helping him. Security showed the least damage actually, but it was still bad. The HoS was found there with all the weaponry on him, well, more like in him. The warden had been dead in the interrogation room with the two lethal injection syringes stabbed into his eyes...

    Engineering was of course non existent, singularities got loose on just about any station, but where it once lied was a very crude statue. It was a amature work of a basketball hoop composed from cyborg and AI parts. We then began to approach the bridge, and the ominous rap song grew louder and more clear, I even made out such words as, "got into one little fight", when it abruptly cut off...

    We entered the bridge only to find it flooded with orange juice and debris of donk pockets floating around. The clown lay spread out nailed to the wall with a security cap on his head backwards and some sunglasses in his hand. It showed him holding a basketball in his hands, no, not held, it was somehow fused. Sitting in the communications chair was a man...His appearance was terrifying. He turned to us with a maniacal grin on his face and wild eyed. Wait, no, it wasn't his face...He was wearing a straight black spacesuit...His face was, dear god, it was the captains. He had the captains face glued onto the visor with holes in the eyes. The man spread his arms to us and said, "Welcome to my station...I am the fresh prince." We opened fire on him, but we were astounded at what happened next. He had possessed TK powers and stopped the bullets in their track in front of him. He turned them back at as and flung the metal back at us were I watched our supply operative hit the ground dead, a bullet in the temple. We fled to the ship, watching as all the operatives around us die off. This man had perfected his powers, doing things I had never thought off. He picked up the Heavy weapons operative and ripped his body apart straight down the middle, the man coating himself in his blood. I had reached the ship when I saw the last operative standing beside me fall onto the ground writhing in pain. He had been twisting and turning when he began to crumple...He had caved into himself at the size of a basketball.

    I Had left the station, when the shuttle suddenly experienced tremendous turbulence. He had grabbed my shuttle! My speed was quickly dropping. I had quickly opened the airlock and shot at him, he of course caught the bullet, but it broke his concentration. I speed away back to centcom. When I arrived, I was being demanded what happened, where the other operatives had gone, why was the ship damaged, why was I so filthy. I had of course answered none of these questions. I had been proclaimed to be suffering from PTSD. I later demanded that that station be nuked. They still knew not my story, but the physical evidence seemed to be efficient. A nuke was sent, but never made contact...A few weeks later, a miner shuttle came to centcom, reporting that they had found a odd artifact...It was the nuke, with writing carved into the side, simply stating, "I am the Fresh Prince..."
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  6. Jayce Wise

    Jayce Wise Head LS13 Admin Staff Member

    Now this is the story all about how
    My life got flipped, turned upside down
    And I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
    I'll tell you how I became the prince of station Lib-air(t)
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  7. Jayce Wise

    Jayce Wise Head LS13 Admin Staff Member

    -The Company of the Strange-
    Hindsight is a valuable sense to have. So, being in a position to take advantage of it fully, I made sure to do so. But what one sees in hindsight isn't always what they want to see, especially when it incriminates oneself. This is one of those times...
    A small, plain shuttle hovered closer and closer to the undefined point, the dark abyss, the singularity. The event horizon was visible only by its blocking of the starry view beyond; that and a single image plastered onto it, impossible as it was given the nature of the monster. The image was of a man in a white ZIS Suit with CE markings on it, suspended for eternity at the point of no return. The shuttle ejected a small pod towards the hole in space, which quickly consumed it. Suddenly the event horizon became fully visible, shimmering, oscillating as a bubble ready to pop would. And then the singularity simply dissipated, leaving only behind the pod and the, now reachable, man. The shuttle moved in towards the body, a purple "NT" shining on the nose of the craft, and another space-suited individual emerged from the craft to take the limp one on board. Tests were run, vitals were checked, brain activity was measured; the man was somehow alive, his grey hair shining as his feral eyes did, his black goatee outlining the horrific curses he spewed forth.​
    I should have thought about it logically. How could I be so naive as to think that my own consciousness was the only version. What the hell did I think would happen if I pulled through the bend a body that did not belong exclusively to me. The universe has a way of punishing those who defy its laws. Little did I know however, I had become Public Enemy No. 1, and there was a new sheriff in town...
    The man squirmed in the hard metal chair, screaming with internal rage at each utterance of that name he knew was not his. The interrogator shook his head and asked again, "Now Mr. Wise, you must believe me when I say that I dislike doing this as much or more than you do, but we have to know how you survived. We have to figure out where you came from, do you understand me Jayce?" The aberration screeched audibly this time, yanking against the chains that bound him to the chair. The interrogator flinched, but did not look surprised at the outburst. "You must have known that we would find you Jayce, we remember as well as you must about what you did. Maybe this summary of the event will jog your memory Wise, take a look." As the interrogator looked up from the paper and pushed it towards the prisoner, he saw only an empty chair; empty chains, still locked, draped over the table. Suddenly a hand pushed down on his head with incredible force, grabbing his hair and ramming his skull into the metal table. This movement was repeated until the interrogator's head ceased to exist entirely. The grey haired man wiped his bloody hands on the corpse's clothing, and examined the mess of gore with mild interest. Spotting something shiny and white among the blood and brains, he plucked from the puddle a white tooth. A molar. He examined it intensely, an expression of childish joy growing more and more pronounced as he turned it over on every angle. He searched the remains for as many teeth as he could find, stowing them in his pocket for safe keeping. Then, as he had done but a few minutes earlier, he vanished; only a feeling of intense unease and untraceable nausea were left in his wake.​
    While there could be only one me in existence at any given time, being trapped for what seemed to him an eternity broke loose from him any trace of me. He became something new, something strange. And now he was freed from his mortal prison; free to roam among the multi-verse as I had done for so long. He found me almost instantly, and the experience is truly the most disturbing I have ever had. And this is coming from someone who has gone through almost every moment in the history of the universe in great detail.
    "The Boogeyman" was his name for quite some time. However, as his story became more obscure and doubted, transcending the boundaries of legend, the fear associated with him shifted to that of an urban myth. To suit his now "lesser" status, a new name for him came into common use due to his horrifyingly unknown origins and his obsession with teeth. Teeth leStrange. However, leStrange was not in any way diminished from existence, but rather experimenting in other "frames", and chasing with an almost childlike curiosity the other inhabitant of his new home. Teeth grew more and more determined to meet this stranger face to face as this other's shyness continued to foil his attempts to communicate. Soon, determination gave way to impatience, and impatience to resentment, and resentment to hatred, and hatred to fury, and fury to obsession. As time went on, Teeth began to notice a pattern following in the silent one's wake, a trail of purple darting in and out of realities. A plan was formulated, and a trap was laid. Waiting for the purple trail to arrive in one particular plane, leStrange was there waiting. It wasn't hard to latch on to this previously unnoticed consciousness without alerting it, and it was even easier to have it lead him to the stranger. Teeth encountered him in person for the first time on a space station. Liberty Station 12 to be precise. Upon hearing the man's name, and seeing his appearance, leStrange came to the realization that this was the man who they thought he was so long ago. This was Wise; this was his true self, but not. In his anger, Teeth decided to add the entire station's dental faculties to his collection, now numbered in the hundreds of thousands. He even decided to share a couple dozen with Jayce as a sort of post card.​
    I tried to cut him off, snip his thread, but it was too late; the universe is quick to merge significant changes, and he was no different. When I was the only one, the threads could cope with my uniqueness. There are unique aspects of each plane, and thus I was accepted as an outlier. But the moment I brought him in, the threads had to rewrite themselves entirely in order to accept this new "trend". By adding but one more instance of my kind to the pile, I was no longer unique. I was no longer (as) unusual in the eyes of the inter-dimensional laws. They were re-written accordingly. He was here to stay, and he made sure to keep in touch with me ever since our first encounter. I have tried to destroy him ever since, for he is insanity incarnate. But more than chaos, he is chaos with a purpose. I don't know what it is he wants, but I intend to find out...
  8. SgtKumar

    SgtKumar Perseus Commander #005 and Perseus Enforcer #023

    I dreamed of badges. Not stars or horses or rainbows. Not the normal things a young girl should dream about. I dreamed of my father. He wore a badge. I dreamed of watching him get his arm cut off while some monster smiled with a gaping maw at him. I dreamed of him screaming, tears in his eyes as he saw us leaving. I remember his face. It spoke of terror, but hope mingled in it. I remember my mother's look of horror and despair as she clutched me close to her trying to stop me from seeing. I dreamed of his death and the hope on his dying face. I dreamed about the life we had on the moon colony. I dreamed of Jeffery Utley, the school bully. I dreamed of how he beat a smaller child in my school. I remember the look of terror on the child's face. I remember the feeling of breaking Jeffery's arm and the scent of his blood streaming out onto the pavement. I dream of the look on the child's face as I was taken away. I dream. Not the normal things a young girl should dream.
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  9. mindly_anarch

    mindly_anarch Active Member

    Mind = gooey grey mass
  10. Obadiah Mayland

    Obadiah Mayland Well-Known Member

    The scent of smoke lingered in the air of this motly excuse of a syndicate shuttle. There were two others there. One was a middle aged man who was polishing his previously bloody helmet (not that it made a difference considering the syndicate helmet was blood red in the first place). The other was a lizard man, smoking a cigarette in the corner. "So you're the new guy eh?" The middle aged man said putting his helmet back on. "Yes..." I replied turning over what I'd gotten myself into. "Then why are you so glum? You haven't said a bloody word since pickup!" He accused outrightly. He was right I had been silent, but only due to the grief that I might never see my wife again. "My betssss are he didn't come willingly. Phhilip probably made a deal with him." the lizard in the corner hissed. I jabbed a look at him, "How did you know about that?" I inquired. "He did the sssame with me. Promissssedd he'd break me out of jail, in return for lifffetime ssservice." the lizard chuckled and laid back. "so what deal did you make rookie?" The middle aged man asked curiously. A lone tear fell down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away. "I saved my wife from dying...". The shuttle was silent for the rest of the trip... When we arrived at a small station, and got off. I saw other operatives all performing different jobs. "It's almost like home" I thought to myself with a hint of a smile. But that thought quickly vanished as I took out my red hardsuit and stared at it. Never again would I be able to show myself to tamaki...or my friends in general. I was in the life of crime now, but sometimes evil must be done for a greater good. I took the helmet and slid it onto my head...nice fit
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  11. LemonSoup

    LemonSoup LS13 Admin

    The room span. Colour lurched drunkenly across my vision, the room filled with the sounds of beeping machinery and muffed voices. Even as I awoke I felt darkness creeping in. My breaths came shorter, the blackness surrounding me. I was staring down a tunnel of black - but at the end, I saw a bloom of white. It grew, the holy light filling my vision as the sounds gave way to silence and the encroaching blackness to brilliant white.

    I felt a breath of fresh air enter my lungs. It felt good.

    Again. Again. My consciousness slipped back into the realm of the living.

    I felt my heart pumping, the light receded and I was left staring into the face of a smiling man. "Isn't he cute?" I turned to see the flustered face of a glamorous young woman. She smiled and nodded. "I'm glad they have such advanced facilities up here. I don't know if I could have made the journey to some planet just for him..." I felt warm, safe. The last think I remember is looking down to see a tan-coloured dog staring intently at me from the floor, then slipping into unconsciousness.

    Born on the station, I was always going to be a little different. I knew of cubby holes, hiding places. I could get to where nobody thought it was possible to get to. Angry shouts of "what the fuck are you doing in here?" were a part of my daily business, and the big men in nice uniforms didn't phase me much. They always threaten to kick me off the station, but they never do. Even as they cursed me I could see the mirth in their eyes. The captain put a little budget and a room by, kept me fed, housed. Life was good for my earlier years. Maybe they felt sorry for me.

    I never knew my parents. Apparently they were separated after my birth, dragged away from each other by conflicting ideas, careers, masters. Like reluctant dogs on leashes, they said. Still, I never really knew them. People gave me sad little looks, patted me on the head as if they thought I felt some kind of loss. Despite that, I was well liked enough. I could always raise a laugh with some party trick and quickly became omnipresent all over the station. This was my home, nobody minded me wandering about.

    Still, as I grew older it was time to find my place here. Work needed to be done, and I was just another mouth to feed. I became apprentice to a man named Ted. He'd answer questions, assign workflow. He was a very important man and I hoped that one day I would fill his shoes, the responsibility of the efficient operation of the station laid out in front of me. The captain had the glamour, but the real action was right here. I watched carefully, and Ted showed me everything he knew. He'd chat to me, poin things out. I spent a good year by his side, plying the trade and, in my eyes, slowly climbing the ladder.

    Then, one day, Ted had gone for lunch. Normally there's a sign letting people know he's not around, but I guess he forgot it. Or maybe he wanted me to prove myself. A man sidled up to the sliding window, and rapped on the glass. He peered inside, rolled up his grey jumpsuit sleeves and swung back his arm, muttering "if he isn't at his fukken desk, I 'll get access to botany myself!" This was my chance. I leapt onto the chair, and in one smooth motion slid the window back, plucked the man's identification off his jumpsuit and slid it into the machine. With a few deft button presses, learnt from watching over Ted's shoulder for years, the ID was slid back across he table, complete with full access to Hydroponics. The man took it back.

    "What the fuck?"

    It dawned on me. shit. ohshitohshit. why didn't I realise?

    The man in grey cocked his head and squinted at me. "Are you joking?"

    I am so fucking deep in it now

    "Ted, did you fucking see that? Ian can do your job for you!"

    I thought I could fit in. I thought they felt sorry for me!

    I turned to see Ted looking at his feet, head hung. I looked at mine. Four toes on each. I thumped my tail on the chair, grin splitting my face as my long tongue rolled out.

  12. SgtKumar

    SgtKumar Perseus Commander #005 and Perseus Enforcer #023

    Dramatization of true events.

    I walked into the Head of Perseus's office with a small sense of dread. "What could he want now?" kept ringing in my head. What could be so important that he called me personally? Whatever it was, it was NOT good. The boss was obviously not happy. He had a frown on his face and his body language didn't help matters. Something was definitely up. He motioned me to sit. As I sat, I removed my beret and placed it on my lap. He sat there staring at me for a moment with his hands steepled on the desk in front of him. He says, "Got a report of you going on the station, off duty?". I sighed. Who would have made contact that quickly? It had only been about 15 minutes since the shuttle had docked. I nodded. "I went aboard to see Obadiah Sir. I also wanted to understand how to build the derelict teleporter." He nods. He says, "What did you go to see Obadiah for?". I reply, unsure of where he was going with that. "I haven't seen him for a week sir. I left to go seem him covertly, but that didn't pan out." I watch him. He seems confused. "Why did you go aboard to see him?" I am very confused myself at this point. I feel that he is fishing for a different answer. "I...I wanted to test out the teleporter for future raids sir. It seems to work fine." He looks very cross now. "Why are you improvising an answer? It makes you look very suspicious. What were you REALLY doing?" I am dumbstruck for a moment. Then the light goes on in my head. He doesn't know. He hasn't been in the field for a very long time so he is unaware of happenings on the station. I reply, visible relief on my face. "Obadiah's my husband sir. I went to visit him." He gives me a look of surprise. "THAT guy is your husband? Regardless, you're on thin ice. VERY thin ice. We've talked to you before about visiting the station without sanction." I nod. "Yes sir. I'm aware of that. I did in fact break SoP to go see my husband. I apologize sir. I know I'm on thin ice and I SWEAR to you sir, I will stop." He replies, "Its affecting both your mission readiness and it reflects poorly on the commandership." I reply again. "I understand sir. I promise it won't happen again." He nods. "Alright. I just want you to know....I really appreciate your honesty."

    To be continued...
  13. Jayce Wise

    Jayce Wise Head LS13 Admin Staff Member

    I cri erry tim
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  14. Ryan

    Ryan Member

    EMPLOYEE: Dean MacTavish
    RANK: Engineer

    General Information
    Legal Name: Dean MacTavish
    Full Name: Dean MacTavish
    Birth Name: Dean MacTavish

    Age: 31
    Gender: Male
    Sexuality: Heterosexual

    Place of Birth: *No record*
    Place of Residence: *No record*

    Physical Notes
    *No record*

    Mental Notes
    *No record*

    *No record*

    NanoTransen Fleet

    NSS Liberty [Engineering]

    Criminal Record
    *No record*
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  15. Obadiah Mayland

    Obadiah Mayland Well-Known Member

    Gotta love grammatical errors
  16. Ryan

    Ryan Member

    I'm sorry for my engrish, it's obviously not my mother tongue :3 Hope it's readable.
  17. Obadiah Mayland

    Obadiah Mayland Well-Known Member

    Oh no I thought it was for jokes...or...are you being sarcastic?! :O
  18. Jayce Wise

    Jayce Wise Head LS13 Admin Staff Member

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  19. MiziBooBoo

    MiziBooBoo Guest

    By far the best thing i've seen in a really long time.
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  20. PoliticalPikachu

    PoliticalPikachu Well-Known Member

    Part One:
    Many people see me as a fairly ordinary guy, but I've got a fair amount of years under my belt. In fact, I doubt you would even realise how long I've been alive, considering I'm lookin' and feelin' pretty good for my age. According to my records, confirmed through biological testing, I'm a 25 year old male, but shit, I know that ain't true. James Dalton is my name, and I work here as the Chief Engineer of Liberty Station 13, the most glorious station this side of Phobos, and I must admit that it's a pretty nice job. Sure, the people here can be assholes sometimes...most of the time, but you learn to love 'em. Today, as I do every day, I start the engine up and make sure my engineers don't run off with their ZIS suits without helping me. I've been told that I'm one of the few competent Chief Engineers this station has ever employed, and according to my workforce, the last guy who had this job ran out into space, suit and all, only to be swiftly devoured by one of those purple, beady eyed Space Carp bastards. Annoyingly enough, the fucker picked his body totally clean, so no genetic material was left for cloning. Damn, poor guy. He must have been in unimaginable agony. I ran my fingers through my jet black hair, sighing, before ordering my work force to set up the solar generators. Suddenly, a deafening bang echoed through the deck, and a small object whizzed past my ear. Clutching my ear, I span around and was met with a terrifying sight. A tall man, clad in a crimson space suit, eyes hidden behind a tinted visor, was staring right at me, the revolver in his right hand aimed right at my chest. Small wisps of smoke fled from the barrel, which left me wondering when it had gone off. Then, it hit me. Literally and figuratively. My face contorted, right hand moving up to my chest, then bringing the fingers up to my face. My digits were covered in a sticky, red ichor. My eyes slowly moved to the visor of my assailant, the red tint allowing me to see my own visage as my body began to fall in slow motion. My back made contact with the cold, steel floor, shortly followed by my trusty toolbox smashing against the ground. Tools flew everywhere as my vision faded to black, darkness finally taking me.

    (To be continued)
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