Corporate Retreat To Hell (OPEN for ALL, Wheee!)

[wckdstoryteller]

Corporate Retreat To Hell​

You had just gotten to your job at the Fukuyama Corporation's sprawling campus in Los Angeles. As part of your morning routine, you checked your mailbox, and received the following memo.​

Memorandum
To: ___________
Fr: Hideo Suzuki, VP of Operations

You have been selected to participate in a new, cutting-edge company research project. Effective immediately, you are reassigned to the Research and Development Division (R&DD).

Your new duties will involve extended travel; all necessary arrangements and all expenses are being handled by the Corporation. To compensate you for any personal hardship this may cause, you shall be paid at twice your normal wage for the duration of your assignment to R&DD. You will also receive $50 per day, in cash paid daily, above and beyond this extended pay to cover any incidental expenses.

Please report immediately to the Blue Room in Building 115 (immediately southeast of the Fountain). Further information and instructions will be provided there.

In this game, you will be playing an employee of Fukuyama. Note that this is a Fortune 500, diversified company--you could be an, accountant a salesperson, a janitor, a secretary, a truck driver, or a research scientist. Your character can be good, evil, or anything in between. There are also opportunities for non-employees to join in, so if you wanted to play a robber, a maid, a teacher, etc., let me know and I'll work your character into the plotline. Basically, you can play damn near any role you please...just post your character and I'll let you know if anything doesn't fly.

Nota bene: This will be a story led by me, your Wicked Storyteller. This is not one of those threads someone sets into motion, then walks away from only to have it fall apart. There is quite a story here, and I will lead you through it, like role-playing games used to be before GMs got lazy. If your character survives, he or she will have quite a story to tell. The story may at times be dark, involving things like things that go bump in the night, and raw, hardcore SEX both consensual and nonconsensual. So be warned. (Hint: there's a reason this is on Lit and not rpol.net... )

This game is statless and (as far as you'll be able to tell) diceless. So all you have to do to join is post a basic description of your character. If we saw him or her up close, what would we see? What does he or she do at the Fukuyama Corporation (don't worry what the Corporation does...it will end up doing whatever your characters indicate it does). What does he or she do for fun? Playing Dungeons and Dragons? Watching pro wrestling? BASE jumping? Pwning others on Unreal Tournament? Raping women in dark alleys?

I look forward to hearing from y'all...you appear to be a suitably twisted bunch for my tastes...

~~~

-- the Wicked Storyteller

 

[Kuuroinochou]

ooc: ooops I'm gonna have to pass on this one after all sorry.

 

[Eiselmann]

OOC:

Name Bernard Mckenzie
Age 40
Height 6'3
Weight 95kg
Nationality New Zealander
Black Hair , hazel eyes.
Occupation Writes Corporation Training Programmes.

Bernard is a quiet guy very shy spending his free time in front of a TV watching football(soccer) and wrestling programmes mixed with a large collection of UK comedies on DVD. He loves his job mostly because he does not need to talk to other people very often.

He's not the best looking guy around his nose is a little too big ,his face breaks out in rashes when ever he is stressed and he is mostly bald.

However, thoses few who make the effort to get to know him find beneath the layers of self doubt and shyness an incredibly witty man with great compassion and striking inteligence, he's also able to protect himself and is quite grounded.

When it comes to females...well he's unlucky in love , never having been in a serious relationship, yet several woman in his past have after rejecting him as a suitable partner have told him later that they wished they had chosen differently.

<I'll do an ic soon >

 

[Donalddeutsch]

Malcolm MacDonald

Character Name: Malcolm MacDonald
Age: 40
Occupation: Mid=level Management

Malcolm got his mail that day, and saw the memo wondering what was going on. He didn't question it tho, and went to the building indicated and showed him his assignment sheet and went in to wait for others.

 

[wckdstoryteller]

When it comes to females...well he's unlucky in love , never having been in a serious relationship, yet several woman in his past have after rejecting him as a suitable partner have told him later that they wished they had chosen differently.

<I'll do an ic soon >

Here's a brief lead-in:

Bernard approached his desk. There was a full day ahead of him and then some. His manager Steven had bitched at him over some manuals that were yet to be finished. Of course, the Recruitment Department had been slow as hell in giving him the information he needed to finish...what was he supposed to do, pull it out of his ass? And on top of that--

"This came for you," the annoying girl across the hall told him. She didn't bother to say "hello" or "how was your day?" Those social graces were unknown to Mindy. "I can't always be keeping your mail you know I have work to do, today I've got three letters to draft and a spreadsheet to finish and Maureen says if I don't finish the Petersen account Hidoko is going to have a fit and then the shit's going to hit the fan for sure."

Shutting up or even allowing the other party in a conversation to get a word in edgewise also seemed to be a skill lost on Mindy. In Bernard's hand was an interoffice envelope...only instead of the usual manila color, this one was a bright red. As this registered with Bernard:

"Well whaddaya know, I got one too, this red color is sure weird, maybe we're all getting fired and being replaced by robots or something tell me what yours says tell me tell me." Mindy was standing at Bernard's side like a lost puppy looking for a home, holding her red envelope.

 

[Eiselmann]

Bernard looked at the envelope, then at Mindy, she set him off and unnerved him , but them most people did that.

He opened his envelope and read the single page inside, it was impossible to completely avoid others but he always hated these new ideas companies liked to test on their staff and the one drawback to his particular job was being a test dummy for anything they ultimately wanted to roll out since he'd inverably have to write it up for roll-out.

"Sorry Mindy" he said his kiwi accent still strong dispite being away from his home county for the last 10 years or so.

Still he could do with the dosh he was planning on going back home in 3 months time for a holiday

He showed the letter to Mindy "Have to go to building 115 must be some new staff training I guess"

 

[Minako]

Mia Iwama stood by the mailboxes reading the letter for the 3rd time. She couldn't believe it, R&D? She'd took the marketing job at Fukuyama right out of college with just a distant hope of getting into the reknowned R&D division, yet knowing that without a PhD she had no chance. Her elation was tempered by suspicion, that maybe some scientist with clout had seen her well-formed figure in a tight blouse and short skirt and requested her transfer. But it wasn't likely, for she'd quickly learned not to dress like that at Fukuyama. LA was no different than Japan, a sexy outfit at work got you lots of unwanted attention. But she still loved LA, it was so exciting after growing up in Tokyo, and even the Japanese food was better.

Mia smiled as she walked past the fountain on her way to 115. The usual group of guys from engineering stared at her as she walked by in a navy business suit and low heels. At 5' 6" she was tall for a Japanese woman, and her shapely curves caught their trained eyes even in her business attire. She shot them a glare and they nervously look away. Mia smiled to herself. Today was going to be a good day.

 

[sinfulsandi]

OOC:
Name Sandi Rawlings
Age: 37
Nationality: American
Education: BS in journalism
Position: Company spokesperson and relations Associate Director of Public Relations

I had only recently began my tenure with Fukuyama as the Associate Director of Public Relations. My last job had been with Channel 13 news in L.A. where I covered the business news. I was divorced recently and needed a fresh start with a new company. Looks had never been a problem as I stood 5'10 tall for a woman but my long legs usually turned most men into blithering idiots. I weighed a 130 atheletic pounds and had long curly black hair with blue eyes that could cut to ones soul. I had always been sure of myself and never took no for an answer. But lately the divorce had shaken me a bit and I was trying to get back into my old groove. If men didn't notice my legs it was my breasts as they were large and still managed to stand out even at my age with no help from plastic surgery. Most people would often avoid me either because they thought that I would be a bit stuck up or if it was a man because I would be a high maintenance kind of woman while women were often jealous. After my divorce I had a brief fling with one of my female taebo instructors as I was bi-sexual and didn't care if anyone knew though I was all female soft, curvy, totally woman not butch nor did I prefer the butch type but the executive female types. The rest of my time was spent either riding horses, exercise, shopping or working in my home garden. Horses were my away from work passion however and I taught part time classes to beginners on the side or riding through the woods and country side.

IC: After reading my email I wondered if perhaps this might concern a new development or aquisition of some sort. I swallowed the last of my coffee and smoothed my tight fitting dress suit heading for the blue room and finding it with ease. I grabbed the door knob and opened the door,,,,

 

[brigid_fitch]

OOC:
Name: Katherine LaGuerre
Age: 35
Nationality: British
Height: 5'9"
Weight: Athletic 150lbs.
Hair: Dark Brown, almost black
Eyes: Brown/green hazel
Position: Doggy style---er, I mean, Account Manager

Katherine usually keeps to herself. Motivated by money, she works her accounts efficiently and precisely. She is well-like by her peers, but chooses not to socialize much, as it would take time away from her clients. She is one of the top salespeople in the division, but doesn't let it get to her head. She's just doing her job and getting paid well for it. Most call her a workaholic, others just see her as dedicated. She's been with Fukuyama since they bought her previous company, Premiere Direct, 7 years ago.

When she receives this mysterious reassignment in the mail, she is annoyed beyond belief. On one hand, she appreciates the recognition of her hard work, but who will handle her accounts while she's on this new assignment?

 

[Snow-Guy]

Name: Jan Itor
Age: mid twenties
Nationality: Unknown, possibly eastern European
Height: 6' 3"
Weight: 200lbs
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Position: Janitor

IC:

"Hey Janitor, could you just..."
If he'd ever had a name, he'd forgotten it. For all intents and purposes he was now Jan Itor, a loyal wage slave of some giant corporation. At least between 3pm and 1am Monday to Saturday he was. Jan knew he had a life outside the complex, it just didn't matter when he was here.

Work. Such a simple word, and yet filled with dread. As jobs went though, Jan's was pretty good, wipe down the bathroom mirrors, scrub the toilets, generally avoid interaction with any of the suit-wearing cubicle people. Gradually the complex would empty and he could begin polishing the floors and changing lightbulbs. Simple tasks, but ones that brought him satisfaction.

Nobody ever noticed him, except when they had a task for him, and that's the way he liked it, just kind of slipping through the evenings, unnoticed, unloved, unapreciated, but most importantly, unbothered and unstressed.

"... go to the Blue room"
"Yes massa, right away massa, go clean boss, yessir"
The deputy sub-department manager or whatever he was didn't notice the insubordination, nobody ever did. Jan shrugged, and began pushing his cart over to the blue room. He didn't know what he'd find there, but odds were he'd need a mop, or brush, or spray bottles of chemicals, or maybe a screwdriver, whatever it was, he probably had the appropriate tool on his cart.

If anyone had been watching they would have heard him mutter to himself "seven point two five hours till freedom buddy". But nobody ever was, he was a non-person in this corporate world.

 

[wckdstoryteller]

For Mia and Sandi

Mia Iwama smiled as she walked past the fountain on her way to 115. The usual group of guys from engineering stared at her as she walked by in a navy business suit and low heels. At 5' 6" she was tall for a Japanese woman, and her shapely curves caught their trained eyes even in her business attire. She shot them a glare and they nervously look away. Mia smiled to herself. Today was going to be a good day.

Mia knew something of the Blue Room. It was about as far inside the R&D department as anyone could get without top-level clearances. Officially, the Blue Room barely existed itself, and that which lay beyond the double-doors on the far side of the Blue Room did not exist at all. The employees from the uncharted lands south of the Silver Portal, as the double-doors were nicknamed, worked for Department E.

And like the fabled Count Room in the Tangiers casino in old Las Vegas, no one ever saw what went down in Department E because everyone was too busy looking the other way. One of the engineers who whistled at Mia from time to time one time told her pieces of the saucer that crashed at Roswell were ensconced in Department E, and no one else had laughed or denied it.

She wondered how many of the Americans who worked for the Fukuyama Corporation knew who really owned it and how they were old-school Shintoists. How they visited the Yasukuni Shrine, the same one that got half of Asia's collective panties in a bind every time Fujimori stopped by, without bothering to issue the halfhearted denials a politician would. How one of them had written a book, the title of which could loosely be translated, "The Sun Will Rise Again."

She doubted it...the American media were too busy covering the fuckery in Iraq and the upcoming Presidential election, as if there weren't a dozen other pots being stirred in the world, about to boil over.

As she entered the building, she almost literally bumped into Sandi. The PR spokeswoman, she knew. Recognition was not mutual...but the red envelopes in each woman's hand linked them together as of this moment as the warm L.A. Santa Ana afternoon was behind them, and the sterile, conditioned air of the building was ahead of them.

 

[DaisyBuchanan]

Jenna

Jenna Anders
Occupation: microbiology, molecular virologist
Age: 27
Height: 5’3
Weight: 105
Hair: short, gold curls
Eyes: warm brown

Quick and nimble are the word most often used to describe Jenna, physically and mentally. Despite her lovely innocent appearance, she has always relied on her intelligence. Her quick mind enabled her to complete her educationand earn her first PhD at an early age, and over-come the disadvantaged childhood of a violent broken home. She prefers the science of the job, because it is neat, clean and logical.

She is a new employee, and still learning her way around the company but is delighted to be working in the state-of-the-art labs doing the reseach she loves.

She was surprised to find the red envelope in her box, and very curious.

 

[hazel43]

Name; Mindy Deal
Occupation: Secretary
Age: 30
Height: 5’6
Weight: 125 lbs
Bust: 38C
Hair: Long reddish blond. Always kept up in a bun for work.
Eyes: hazel, large dark rimmed glasses

"This came for you," the annoying girl across the hall told him. He showed the letter to Mindy ...
..."Have to go to building 115 must be some new staff training I guess"

Mindy fumbled to open her own envelope. “Wow, the Research and Development Division.. “ her voice trailed off as she read. “This sounds great! OK Bernard, I need some things from my office. I’ll see you there.“

Mindy rushed. Grabbing her purse and a notepad, she headed for building 115. Her mind raced with thoughts of travel and making more money. It sounded almost too good to be true.

OOC: Lead me please

 

[sinfulsandi]

sandi

As I stood at the door to the blue room not sure what to expect a very attractive and sexy asian woman in a tight fitting and short skirt bumped into me holding the exact same letter as myself. I looked at her not sure whom she was at the moment but thinking she looked very familiar. The room before us seemed mysterious and also odd that I had never visited this room nor even heard of such a place. I stepped forward into the room looking for someone to tell me what in the hell was going on?

 

[scribe_m]

Furiisekkusu Iroke touched the envelope to his teeth. The infamous Blue Room, eh? So much was said about it. So little was known about it. It was hardly his goal to enter this room, but such a temptation could not be resisted by the ostensibly mild-mannered Japanese research scientist. Only his research position, as a dedicated hard worker investigating "human sensitivity" to Fukuyama products, hinted at his desire to push another human to their subconsious desires. What did they find aesthetic? What did they like to feel? And how did they react when they found out their true base desires? Oh, certainly, he had his share of mundane research -- the curviture and colors of a box, the ergonomics of a product -- but his success in recreational devices was quite well known within his department. Was that why he was selected? His research into visual stimuli that could be projected within a mere video application was both cost efficient and salivacious -- had it been published within an academic setting. But it was corporate research, and there is more money to be made in a product that dipped in blue, rather than a stodgy psychological paper.

Speaking of blue, the young man spied the women holding the red envelopes. His was tucked away, one should not reveal oneself too early. He had an uneasy feeling, yet there is only one way to deal with temptation.


Scribe.

 

[wckdstoryteller]

(Sorry for the delay...RL issues this week right out the wazoo)

One by one, the chosen employees wended their way through the campus, past the fountain with its multicolored Fukuyama logo, and into the building. A couple had to stop and ask for directions, as the building itself was sprawling, with sections recently added in a seemingly haphazard manner.

Once inside, everyone saw a decided change in the type of people roaming the halls here. Almost everyone wore a blue Fukuyama tunic. About four out of five people here were Asian. Workers here moved with purpose and dispatch. The behavior of the workers made the place seem more like a beehive than a research lab. There were no "Hello, how do you dos?" At most the passing recruits got a slight bow, a curt nod, as workers rushed pass running errands unseen.

The motley group of recruits did have help...impersonal as it was. About every fifty feet or so, a sign (printed on the same red paper the envelopes were crafted from) Scotch-taped to the wall said

Holders of RED ENVELOPES Please This Way to ORIENTATION​

with an arrow pointing the way. Amidst whitewashed walls and tones of gray, the signs stuck out like neon in a desert night.

After several turns that led them who knew how far into the building (without the signs to point the way back, any without a keen sense of direction would have been hopelessly lost), everyone came to a set of double doors. On each of the doors was one of the signs...sans arrow.

 

[wckdstoryteller]

When she receives this mysterious reassignment in the mail, she is annoyed beyond belief. On one hand, she appreciates the recognition of her hard work, but who will handle her accounts while she's on this new assignment?

Seeing her with the envelope, Katherine's supervisor Daren frowned. The reason was not far to seek...Katherine was one of the best go-getters on the team, and the reassignment meant that Daren would be without her services. He pushed his glasses back up his nose, and said, "Nothing I can do about it. You never refuse or try and stop a red envelope. No one on my team's ever gotten one before. I think they come from God...I heard He left a pile on Mt. Ararat in case Moses needed any future guidance. I'll try and assign your accounts to Freya until she gets back."

Katherine knew there were far worse things that could happen...Freya had the personality of a Doberman but she got results. She had been named by hippie parents after a Norse god, and had spent most of her life being as hard-boiled, cynical, and anti-hippie as she could be. Rebellion? Perhaps. But at least she knew her stuff.

 

[wckdstoryteller]

Furiisekkusu Iroke touched the envelope to his teeth. The infamous Blue Room, eh? So much was said about it. So little was known about it. It was hardly his goal to enter this room, but such a temptation could not be resisted by the ostensibly mild-mannered Japanese research scientist.

Furiisekkusu had heard rumblings and grumbles about some big new project. The rumors had been flying around for quite some time, each more unbelievable than the last.

One part he had been able to confirm--and this only made the secret project that much more bizarre--was that the Company had accumulated a library of scrolls from medieval monks and scholars, which it was in the process of translating down in a workgroup down in Department E.

What the fuck did illuminated scrolls from the tenth and eleventh centuries have to do with semiconductor and physics research? That, Furiisekkusu realized, was what the Americans called the $64,000 question.

 

[DaisyBuchanan]

Jenna Anders

Jenna keeps her excited curiosity under control as she moves through the halls that marked the directions for the red envelope holders. She forces herself to walk at a sedate, professional pace, one at odds with her small appearance and dynamic personality. “Lab speed” she always called it, when nothing is hurried and everything must be done carefully. What she wants to do is rush ahead and see what it around the next corner or the corner after that.

“We are being disoriented…like rats in a maze” she notes to herself as the signs point to turning another corner. She wonders if it was intentional and suspects is was… the building couldn’t have been so poorly designed that this was the most direct route to where ever they were going. The idea that the group was being played put extra energy in her step that was difficult for her to control, and she succeeded in maintaining the sedate pace only with great effort. “This going to be so interesting… it’s a puzzle already…” she thinks.

Holders of RED ENVELOPES Please This Way to ORIENTATION​

Finally, she arrives at the doors…

“I feel like Alice…,” she says with a cheerful grin.

 

[scribe_m]

Furiisekkusu Iroke

What the fuck did illuminated scrolls from the tenth and eleventh centuries have to do with semiconductor and physics research? That, Furiisekkusu realized, was what the Americans called the $64,000 question.

Iroke raised an eyebrow at the odd signs leading him there and nowhere. Orientation, eh? Seems more like dis-orientation to me, he thought. Hardly enjoying his possible status as a lab rat, he nonetheless made way, a rat with the curiousity of a cat. When he arrived past the double-doors, he arrived in a non-descript room where a few had arrived before him. Their clothing and demeanor suggested that they were not from his department, or any specific department at all. Most curious, he thought to himself.

Approaching one of the women, he asked, "I am Iroke from basic research in product aesthetics. It is a pleasure to meet a fellow employee participating in... these red envelopes. Tell me, which department are you in and would you happen to know more than these little envelopes are telling us?"


OOC: Assumed we all meet beyond the double-doors, but lemme know if otherwise. Also, do put the names of the characters involved in the Title so we don't get lost! Thanks!


Scribe.

 

[LitShark]

OOC:
Name: Shawn Hastings
Occupation: Company Cook
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 235
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Hometown: New Jersey, U.S.A.

IC: Shawn was quick to delete the corporate email that made its way into his inbox. "A misdirected mass, mail." He assumed.

There was no denying the firey, red envelope that sat on his service counter the next morning, with his name written on the front.

"Shit" he muttered in his East Coast accent, "The last thing I fuckin' need."

Mysterious messages aside, there was still work to be done. Shawn busied himself most of the morning with prep work for that day's lunch service, until his "sous chef" arrived at 10 A.M.

"Hey, there you are." Shawn removed his chef's coat from his massive shoulders, wearing a tight ribbed tank top undernieth. "I got some fuckin' orientation upstairs for R&DD, but I'll tell them to fuck off and be back before noon. Try not to fuck things up too bad."

Shawn closed his black cloth knife roll and headed toward the lobby elevator, in his tank top and checkered Chef pants.

After navigating the maze of turns and corners to the blue room, he walked in abruptly, talking to nobody as he took a seat away from the corporate clones chattering all around him.

He put one leg up on top of the fancy looking conferance table. He wasn't sure if they allowed smoking in this "Blue Room" but he lit up a Marlboro anyway and began smoking without any regard to the people bustling around him.

 

[Snow-Guy]

Jan Itor made his way through the RDD building, wheeling his cart in front of him, not hurrying, but ocassionally clipping people's legs if they were walking too slowly, and blocking off those who tried to push past.

It was petty, vindictive, and just plain not nice, but that's the way he was. Mostly he just wanted to be left alone. He pushed the cart into the Blue room, and the first thing he saw was some musclebound idiot with his feet on the table and smoking. Since the idiot was wearing a tanktop, Jan knew he couldn't be that important, and even if he was so fucking what?

Jan Itor calmly picked his mop out of its bucket and slapped it down, still dripping wet, on the idiot's feet.

"Hey Asshole, someone else has to clean up your mess, so put out the cigarette out and get your feet off the table. Firefighting foam is a right bitch to clean up."

 

[LitShark]

Shawn looked down at the soaking grey mop, which covered his huge steel toed kitchen shoes. Shawn sneered menacingly at the janitor, his cigarette still burning in the side of his mouth. He slowly slid his feet off the table and rose to his soggy feet.

Shawn was massive and imposing, he walked up to the janitor, inches from his face and blew a long breath of smoke into the slightly shorter man’s face. He then proceeded to stub out his cigarette on the small patch at the front of the janitor’s jumpsuit that bore the company logo.

“Listen here you broom pushing, slack jawed, wage slave. I’ve got REAL work to do today.” Shawn bellowed “Not pushing a mop in circles or counting lines of statistics. I’ve got stocks that need to be strained, shrimp that needs to be peeled, roasts that need to be sliced all before lunch. Time is the one thing I don’t have, and since I only barely have time for a smoke break most days, this little pow-wow inherits my break time.”

“Maybe instead of whining to me about messes, you ought to take it up with the red envelope sending asshole who fucked up and brought the cook and the janitor to a Research and Development orientation.”

Shawn then threw his black knife bag loudly onto the table and folded his arms on top of it looking around the room from one staring face to the next.

“Can we get whoever is in charge in here, so I can tell him I’m not doing this shit?”

 

[Snow-Guy]

Jan waited until the big moron had finished his tantrum, in his job you got pretty good at ignoring up-themselves assholes. He tutted slightly, throwing his knives around like that, it was pretty obvious why he was a cafeteria cook and not a real chef.

Once the moron had finished, Jan put the mop back in it's bucket, smiled politely at the gorrila and asked.

"Do you find that women dislike your small steroid-penis, or does your personality put them off before they get that far."

 

[LitShark]

Shawn smirked at the pointed remark from the janitor.

"Believe me" he chuckled "I got no problems down there son." He diverted his attention from the janitor and looked Mia directly in the eyes, "Some of you might be lucky enough to find out first hand."

He punctuated his innuendo with a wink in Mia's direction.