Yo, I'm bored and need to get some OM. Rather than run a solo storyline or get wrapped up in something that might last longer than I'd like I figure I'd pick a fight.

I was thinking about the fight taking place in the astral verse. That way we don't need to have an excuse to bump into eachother as it could just be a really intense dream.

Rules I propose

Wordcount - 1000
Posts - 3 each
Time limit - 3 days

Battlefield would take place in a dreamscape and be super malleable so we can change it as we see fit.

Any takers?

"Are you done playing around, now? It's time to wake up."

The feeling of falling persisted, those words echoing again in his head. Then all at once it abated, and he felt something solid under him. As it did, pain returned with a vengeance. His skin felt aflame, long lines of red-hot fire scouring over his body in places.The acrid, coppery tang of blood welled up in his mouth. Sound greeted him next, after his body finished its tally of the overwhelmingly poor state he was in; muffled, as if from a great distance or through thin walls, but it sounded like a fountain.

It took a few moments for it all to settle in, and his mind to sort out his memory into proper order and format again. He was awake again. Out of whatever dream he'd fallen into after being nearly killed by Ada. The sound he could hear, it was...was the sound of the fountain, near to where they had fought.

A quiet groan of discomfort passed his lips as he shifted, bringing a hand up to his eyes, rubbing at them. Despite the very real agony and pain, he felt...less terrible than he remembered feeling, at the end of that fight. It was hard to say how long he had been out for, but it seemed like he'd already started on the path to the mend. Quite convenient, given the sorry condition he'd ended up in.

"So you are alive." The voice came from somewhere above and behind him. "Finally all done playing dead, then?"

Wesker's eyes snapped open, and he craned his head back to look at the speaker. What he saw gave him pause. He was staring up into the faintly luminous, red lenses of a gas mask. When combined with the other gear that was worn by the man in question, it took him only a moment to piece it together. The voice was a good hint, as well. "...Mister Death. How ironic."

The special agent's expression and reaction were impossible to fully judge, with his face entirely hidden from sight, but he didn't offer so much as a chuckle or shake of the head. Just merely leaned down, extending a hand to the downed man. "The god who died being woken up by the mortal who can't die," he remarked dryly, as Wesker grasped the offered hand and was hauled up to his feet. "I'm aware of the humor in there somewhere."

Wesker just let out a grunt at that. Though it pained him to admit, the man was right. Mister Death...the "Grim Reaper" of the Umbrella Security Service; Special Agent HUNK: the man who never failed, and seemed unable to die. He was capable; in a league of his own. Just a mortal man, an ordinary human with nothing special about him whatsoever, and yet he had survived such overwhelming odds and impossibility that it was absurd. "Just as sharp a tongue in that head as ever, I see," was all he said. The comment about the god that had died was something he would dwell on later; his memories before being pulled to the Omniverse were hazy, at best. Fragmented and in pieces. For all he knew, he had been killed at some point among that fractured haze, as impossible as it seemed.

But then again...Chris Redfield had been involved. The constant thorn in his side, and the man who had discovered Wesker's one weakness. And with it...maybe, just maybe that thorn had festered. Grown from a nuisance to a lethal infection, and finally brought down even a god. It was enough to make his temper rise and flare with such an intensity as to exacerbate the aches in his body — especially the dull throbbing in his head.

"By the way," HUNK spoke up again. "I found this on you, before you woke up." Held in his outstretched hand was a simple note, damp as if it had been laying in a puddle for some time.

The scientist took the note, staring down at it in silence. It was damp and wrinkled, the writing on it slightly smeared, but still clearly legible: Don’t be a stranger. ;-)

Slowly, his hand curled into a fist, crumpling the note into a soggy wad of mush. He recognized that handwriting. "So...you left me alive intentionally..." he murmured, his teeth bared in something between a snarl and a grin. "Returning an old favor...or just showing some of the mercy that rubbed off on you from your precious Leon?" He chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

"Well then, Mister Death..." He discarded the ruined note, turning to the special agent who stood silently, resolutely beside him. "What brought you here? That smiling, insufferable god-child, Omni?"

HUNK's faceless mask stared back at him, radiating an air of non-comprehension. "No clue. Just woke up here, looking down at what I thought was your corpse. Checked for life signs, found them. Barely. Did a little work to patch you up, stem the bloodflow. Then waited." He checked a watch at his wrist. "Been about an hour."

"....I see." Wesker digested that information. The greeting he'd received from Omni upon his arrival would be all but impossible to miss, even for someone possessed of a legendary lack of awareness. It could only mean that Agent HUNK had been brought here by something else entirely. An idea clawed at the back of his mind, slowly bringing itself to the forefront and piecing together. Anything you desire... was what had been promised was possible with Omnilium. A loyal subordinate was certainly something he always desired...but, from what he had gathered, using the substance to summon was an act which required great time and focus.

Could it be possible...that one could do such a thing unconsciously? While in a dream state, no less... It was something he would have to consider and look into. A difficult thing to study, but he would figure it out. "Very well. Let us be off, then."

"Where to?" the special agent asked. "This place is featureless."

"There are some sort of landmarks, forming a circle around this one," Wesker said by way of an answer. "Archways, possibly gates or portals of some sort."

"Exploring at random," HUNK clarified. "Finding some information to make gaps to be filled in in the first place."

"Exactly." A competent soldier was such a valuable commodity, really... "Give me a moment. I'll procure us some transportation."

Name: Artoria Pendragon
Spent OM: 4300
Consumed OM (0); (for consumed items or OM permanently lost from respecs, etc)
Proficiencies (1000); Physical Strength (1000)
Powers (0/8000);
Moves (300); A Sword (300)
Super Moves (0);
Transformations (0);
Assists (0);
Items (0);
Artefacts: None
Bases (0);
Unlocks (3000); Stat Upgrade I (1000), Stat Upgrade II (2000)
Base stats:
ATK: 3
DEF: 3
SPD: 2
TEC: 4

CHARACTER NAME: Hecate Rothchild
CHARACTER SOURCE: Original
CHARACTER HISTORY: Hecate's life was quiet and uneventful even for a peasant of Vestura, walled city of the west. That is until the day she turned 15, her parents wailed with terror as they opened the door of their small home to find Armed Vesturan Guards and a letter of conscription . Both parents protested loudly as the Men stepped through the threshold of the small home and seized Hecate, striking her with a large blunt object, knocking her out cold.

When she awoke she found herself bound, surrounded by other children  of the same age. Eyes filled with despair, defiance and fear filled the room. Despite this Hecate remained calm, her deep blue eyes seemed to watch everyone as though studying the different feelings in the room. Her thoughts were interrupted by a tall  slender fiery haired woman no older than 30 who strode into the room with a strong aura of authority. "From this point forward, you are all soldiers of Vestura. Any insubordination or disruption shall be met with appropriate force. Look to those around you and realize this, only one, possibly two of you will survive the training.

A young girl stood up and began to speak, as if asking a question "What if we do.." she was cut off as the Woman who was presumably in charge glared at the girl. Flames erupted in a geyser at her feet consuming the  young girl in flame, her question replaced by screams of pain went deathly silent as the flames disappeared as swiftly as they had appeared. Where a young woman once stood, a charred husk of a human being now lay collapsed on the flood, charred black. The putrid scent of burnt hair mingled  with burnt meat filled the small room. The  woman didn't even seem to notice "Any more questions?" she said spitefully as if daring another child to speak. "As I was saying , You will be separated and tested one by one and moved to where you shall be training. A word of advice." She said  as she paused "Dont make friends with anyone whom you cant kill later." And with that she walked off into a dark hallway.

Hecate was pulled into a room and a sharp blade drawn against the palm of her hand. As crimson liquid pooled up in her hand she stifled a cry. The blood in her hand was poured into a small vial and some clear liquids were added to the vial. The blood in the Vial turned to ice right away.

Separated and isolated from the other kids Hecate felt something stir inside the depths of her mind almost as if she was watching herself. The next three years Hecate spent every waking moment training her body and mind. Between the beatings and rampant sexual abuse That feeling deep in her mind became more and more potent, often times Hecate felt herself shifting with whatever it was inside her.

The day of the graduation ceremony was the final test, she had been accepted into the Witch Corps, a band of women   capable of controlling the various elements and bending them to their will. Hecate had learned to control Ice, scorend by her fellow cadets for this Hecate had retreated into a self absorbed bubble, keeping to herself even more. A battle royale, where in order to graduate the cadet was forced to kill two or more of her former comrades. Something snapped in Hecate as she watched her body summon Saishu Sasayaki, her spiritual swords of ice and immidietly cut down one of the girls, the out of body feeling bothered her but who or whatever was controlling her body thirsted for more and more carnage. She watched as one girl snuck up behind her aiming for a deathblow in the back. Hecate screamed to her body as a flash of white  blasted around her.

When she opened her eyes, she was back in control of her body, in a place she had never seen before

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:


Age: 19
Skin Color: Pale White
Eye Color: Blue / Pinkish Red (Depending on personality)
Hair Color: White
Height: 5'8"
Weight: 112 Lbs
Attire: Hecate is often seen wearing a white military style uniform with grey accents. On her right arm is a thick cloth in a dark grey. Her clothes are often stained with blood despite her reputation as a neat freak.
Her weapons of choice is a pair of long daikatana that she has dubbed Saishu Sasayaki (last whisper) these blades channel her abilities in the same way a wizard might use his staff allowing her to use her Ice attacks .
The blades are both pale white with black embellishments and black wrapped handles, notably they are missing any form of guard. Hecate keeps these weapons on her back and right side, and is able to draw the one on her right faster than the back sheathed one due to her left hand being dominant.

PERSONALITY DESCRIPTION: Hecate is a young woman with an affinity for manipulating ice,  her abilities match her personality, cold and harsh. Hecate has a mental disorder that has given way to a second personality, one that warships bloodletting and mutilation.
Hecate is cold and calculating, but both personalities are loyal though the more violent one has a messed up perception of loyalty.
Hecate is considered a neat freak by everyone around her, as well as a control freak. Due to her dual personality the few who know of her second personality can tell which personality based on her eye color.
Notable traits:
Normal Hecate: Cold, quiet, calculating. Avoids contact with unknown people.
Dark Hecate: Lusts for blood, This personality will literally bathe in blood if allowed.
STATS:
ATK:2
DEF:2
SPD:5
TEC:1
STARTING PROFICIENCIES: Debuff Proficiency (1000), Physical Strength (1000) Area Attack Proficiency (600)
STARTING POWERS:Burst Movement (800), Super Speed (1000)
STARTING MOVES: none



SPENT OM (4400/5000)

I confirm that I have read and agreed to the Rules of Conduct.
Where did you find us? Koehler invited me

Just compiling different idioms and shorthands I've had people say over the years. Figure it might come in handy for establishing a wider common vernacular for native dialogue in the 'Verse.

People should feel free to list their own.



Babby or Primeling: A very new and inexperienced Prime. Usually has only visited one or two Verses and are still getting their bearings.

Nilium, Goo, Shiny-Shiny: Omnilium, when referred to as a metaphysical substance.

Nil, Omnibucks, OM: Omnilium, when referred to as a currency.

Baking, Weaving: The act of summoning.

Seckie, Dreg: Secondary

Sire: A Prime who is identifiably responsible for the conscious creation of a corresponding secondary.

'Go Under': An eponymous and flippant dismissal, similar to 'Go to Hell'.

Palpatown: Tier 1 of Coruscant.

Clipped, Ghosted: A circumstance where Prime abruptly vanishes under vague circumstances.

Essent stepped out of the Nexus gate when suddenly a chill went down her spine. She looked around, fogs surrounding the areas and dark hills sweeping across the landscape. The air was fresh with the cold and the skies were darkened by the clouds above. There was no sun shining today.

"Man. Spooky, much?"

Well, she didn't want to go back just as she arrived. At least not now. She needs time to learn about this verse. Step by step, Essent walked through the seemingly abandoned town. She saw some folk running about. And by running I mean walking.

"Man, what happened here? It's like a ghost town," she thought aloud to herself.

She placed her hands in her lab coat's pockets and began to whistle a tune as she walked through town. Some of the remaining folk looked at her as if she was expected to be here. She felt their stares going up and down her body. It was unsettling for her. Thing is, she's been through scarier. Sort of. She's not really into horror-horror as much as she is body horror. But all Essent can do is just walk... Maybe she can come across someone that can assist her.

Just as she thought that, a woman rushed up to her. The other seemed to be in a freak-out frenzy.

"I- My apologies but, you're a Prime. Yes? Please tell me you're one!"

"I am. What's the problem?"

"W-well, I live close to the edge of town a-and... And a bunch of wild wolf beasts were making their way towards us! It's not even nightfall and they decided to attack! You've gotta help us!"

"Miss....?"

"Beverly."

"Beverly. Right. I'll help you out. Just lead the way to where you last saw them."

"R-right! Right. This way!" She took hold of Essent's hand and started to drag her to the east side of town. Essent's feet scampered as she was brought to the location. A few moments later, Essent could heard growling and howling. Seems like they were close.

The woman, Beverly, nodded to Essent and ran back towards where the two came. There was silence throughout the area other than the sounds of wolves and Beverly's footsteps. The young prime called upon her claws...

"Fist of Genetics; Dual Scratch!"

Essent could feel her arms' cells twist and turn just as she called her power. Darker, blacker, her fingers sharper... Her fingers no longer had joints and all that was left were sharp claws. Her arms were then fully black and her hand now with large claws. There was a wolf- A werewolf- who has heard her call and started to charge at her from her right side. Due to it's growl, she heard it ahead of time and managed to scratch it across the chest. The wound wasn't that deep but the attack still hurt it. It's wounded howl alerted a few other werewolves to it's location. The aforementioned group (three, four including the one Essent attacked), made their way into Essent's sight. Their feral instincts kicked in and they went in for the attack.

Essent jumped out of the way of one's lunge but bumped into another who then tried to scratch her. It did, but only her clothing.

"Aw man, come on! That's a fresh set of clothing!"

Once she snapped back into reality after her blurt-out, she rolled out of the way of another lunge. She jumped onto her feet and scratched at an approaching opponent. Due to the nature and effectiveness of her attack, instead of a straight on scratch, it was a deep stab. The werewolf was fatally wounded and, once off Essent's claws, dropped dead onto the floor. The other werewolves were filled with rage at the loss of their brother. Essent raised a 'finger' and made a motion for them to attack. They all lunged forward at her. She sidestepped to the right, out of the way.

"Too slow!"

She scratched deeply into the back of another werewolf, leaving it incapacitated. The first wolf she encountered jumped right onto her as she got up. She fell flat onto the ground. The wolf tried to bite her head but she avoided each bite, moving her claws to dig deep into the wolf's head.

And then there was one. She shifted the now dead wolf off of her body and lunged at the now lone wolf. It didn't move, mainly out of fear. It could only give into Essent's attack. It was alone at that point, no longer in a pack. This adrenaline rush. The action. This is what Essent's body was craving! She was impaling and stabbing at the wolf she lunged at. The incapacitated one let out a whine. Essent got up and looked to the last alive wolf. She walked towards it, stopped, and lowered her head to look in it's eyes.

"Woof woof." She then sliced through the wolf's neck. That... Was that.

Essent gazed around her, blood on her claws and clothing. She didn't seem jaded by this anymore... At least, according to her morals. This was bad monsters against good. She knows about good monsters, though. She played Undertale. Wait, the last one whined, though. And the one before was struck with fear... She could've...

"AW SHNIKIES."

She reformed her arms back to normal before facepalming.

"I could've pacified one! But nooooo my body as too distracted by the action I was doing. Gosh darn it, Essent, this ISN'T PROTOTYPE! It is NOT an all-you-can-slaughter buffet!"

She banged her head. But as she was distracted punishing herself, a bunch of hiding townsfolk came out and approached her. She snapped back into reality and watched at the folks were giving her thanks. She shook hands, gave hugs... She even talked with the folk, learning more about the place's history.

Geeze, this place needs a makeover. And some saving. But she needs to get stronger, of course. She needs all of her powers back.

As it seems to be hours on in, the tiny Koopa was wondering around and hopefully to someplace more safe. He wasn't going to be victim to some sort of incident but even so, it still felt too peaceful while he took his time climbing the nearest tree. Pausing for a moment, he stopped to remember something as he could hear the echoes of laughter that was from his younger brother.

   The one that he felt like his other half, no wait, is his other half.


   Without another sound, he lowered his head, shadowing his eyes from the sunlight that filtered down from the canopy above; there was nothing that would help distract him from the inner turmoil that is within his small being and unless something happens, he's going to be stuck in this forest, wandering alone, until something happens. After all, he could only pretend to smile and tell himself lies but that isn't going to help especially with his childlike nature or what it seems to be to the known eye.

   He wants company. Someone, anyone, that would put him at ease, since he's just lonely as a little lost child and it wasn't long before he looked up to the skies.

   "Why does everything have to be so big and I'm so small?" he murmured before he just sat down against the moss-fulled bark and crossed his hands over his shell as he looked down again, just still reminiscing of the days that his favorite brother was there with him. He would had this place all figured out and then the two could playfully do whatever, even if it meant for mischief and pranks.

While it is impossible to have an Underverse Base with an exit via Dataverse Uplink, is it feasible to have a one way Dataverse Download Station to bring people into the Underverse at a specific place?

I just joined and don’t quite know what to do with first, so if anyone needs an extra person, or if any other new players want to buddy up and just do whatever let me know. I’m game for pretty much anything.

White. That was all that surrounded her. With the exception of the towering spite to her back, it was all white. Endless and immense. It should’ve been disturbing, but she was more unnerved by the events that had just transpired. Being spoken to by an all-powerful being always had that effect on her it seemed, whether it was the Medla or this Omni.

Hazel moved away from the spire and slowly moved forward. She walked to where the cobble surrounding the tower turned to that unsettling white. Would she fall the moment she stepped off the stone? Would it crack under her weight like too thin ice? Would she just fall forever through a white abyss? Would she would she would she...

Hazel shook her head, driving those thoughts into the corner of her mind. If she stayed on that train of thought, she’d be standing here for hours. It’d be better to take action. She cautiously edged one foot off the stone and into the white. It held and didn’t crack or break, there was actually a floor there. Well, why not go a little further?

The first few steps were delicate, testing her weight with each foot before fully putting it down. After the floor didn’t crack or fall away, her steps grew more bold. She jumped a few times. Nothing. Huh, guess it really was solid. Well that solved the problem that had occupying her mind since arrival.

With her conundrum now solved, Hazel returned to the spire. She could’ve just stayed there. But even though she knew that it was solid, standing on seemingly nothing Gabe her the screaming heebie-jeebies. She felt safer on the black-tinged cobblestone that surrounded the spire.

The other thing that had been rolling around in her mind was about the omnilium. It’d been overshadowed by the fear of being marooned in the middle of a sea of white nothingness, but now it was brought to the forefront of her mind.

Hazel drew out a ball of omnilium, it’s spectrum of color reminding of the feathers of a rainbow dragon. She squeezed the ball slightly, watching it mold around her fingers. It was unassuming in appearance, yet anything could be summoned from this. Anything at all.

“Well, might as well give it a try”

Something simple, start with something simple. Her king flashed to a simple black hair clasp. Simple enough, right? She focused on the item, imagining every detail. She didn’t expect it to work, but lo and behold the omnilium in her hand rose up. It hovered in the air, colors flashing and shifting mesmerizingly. Then the omnilium dispersed. A single black hair clasp dropped into her hand. She turned the item over, scrutinizing it. Well then, it worked. She felt less surprised that she probably should have. Oh well, Hazel took the clasp in one hand and her unruly hair in the other.

It took a little fighting, but she managed to wrangle every last hair into the clasp. Finally. Now it wasn’t falling in their face anymore. Now, for something a bit more ambitious. She glanced down. She was her little-worn voyagers garb. Great for travel, but not what she needed at the moment. Hazel began concentrating again. Just her everyday clothes. Those should be fine.

She hadn’t noticed before, but summoning things took a while. A handful of minutes at least. The floating omnilium eventually dispersed, leaving the items in front of her. She sorted through the small pile. Good, everything was there. She shed the weather shield first. Then the long-sleeved under-layer. Her dragon-scale tunic stayed where it was. It looked like she would need all the protection she could get.
Deft hands snapped up the leather vest. She fastened the catches and instantly felt better. Her appearance didn’t matter to her in the slightest, but the familiarity made her feel more at ease. The remaining items were pulled on in turn. Leather and dragon scale bracers were fastened on, as were shin guards of the same material. She pulled on the simple belt and buckled it. Lastly came her satchel and necklace. She threw the bag it over her shoulder and paused. It was heavier than she remembered.

Hazel brought the bag up to her chest with one hand and opened it with the other. She blinked in confusion at the sight of an unknown dragon egg. The shell was icy blue in most places and deep blue in the rest. It shimmered with a faint luminescence. She’d never seen or heard of a dragon egg like this, but something about it was familiar. Where did she-

Oh.

That’s right.

Well that explained why she was dressed in her expedition garb upon arrival, at least. But it didn’t change the fact that she was stuck here with a dragon egg she didn’t know how to hatch.

She put that though out of her mind for the time being and retrieved the last item. She felt much better with her necklace in place, completing her outfit. It was comforting. But still some things were off. The catch on her locket wouldn’t budge not matter how hard she pried at it, and the dagger sheath at her waist was oddly empty.

Hazel decided to leave her shoes as they were. After all, it seemed like she’d have a lot of walking to do. She wasn’t staying here, and those gates looked very far away. Best to have shoes made for walking.

Except, maybe she didn’t have to walk. Omni did say anything, so why not a dragon? Those few minutes of summoning seemed to drag on this time as she summoned a pair of leather  gloves. She pulled on the gloves the second they materialized.

Just concentrate and summon. The image of a rock dragon appeared in her head. Normally she’d pick a fire dragon as her mount, but on a flat surface like this rock dragons were fastest. A rock dragon would easily outrun even a flying fire drake in these conditions. Now she just needed to wait.

It took longer than anything else she’d summoned, but that made sense. This was a living creature, not a hairpin or a set of clothes.

And there it was. A fully grown rock dragon out of nowhere. It just...appeared like everything else. It was weird to think a living thing could be summoned as easily as something inanimate.

Hazel approached the great gray beast. It shook out its limbs and lowered into a crouch. The movement was smooth and textbook perfect. Flawless, just like the dragon that performed it. But something felt wrong.

With a whistle, she called the dragon to a full stand. Another flawless motion. Hazel frowned and stepped forward. The dragon stayed stock-still. It didn’t even twitch when she laid her hand on it’s nose. The mark of a well trained dragon.

She whistled again, a different note. The dragon snapped to attention. Head up, small wings folded, legs together, all without error. Perfect posture. Hazel looked the dragon over, inspecting it in full. Nothing out of the ordinary. A perfectly healthy rock drake. She moved on to the dragon’s head. Again, nothing was wrong. Until she reached its eyes.

Something in Hazel recoiled at the drake’s eyes. On the surface, they were fine. Physically health, no illness, no damage, no imperfections, nothing. Nothing at all. There was nothing in those eyes. No heart, no soul, no life, nothing at all. Despite the dragon being alive and breathing in front of her, those eyes were dead.

She shuddered and willed the creature away. It’s form dissipated, like the substance was being sucked from it’s body. Hazel watched in morbid fascination at the process. She couldn’t look away even though she wanted to. Then it was gone. Thank the Medla it was gone. And the sense of wrong was gone with it. Hazel breathed deeply. She wasn’t doing that ever again.

That wasn’t a dragon. To her, a dragon was a living creature with a personality and spirit. That wasn’t a dragon. That was a tool, a means to an end like a boat or a carriage. It wasn’t right. The next time a dragon stood in front of her, it would be a real one. Her unusually heavy satchel shifted as she moved, reminding Hazel of her passenger still slumbering in its shell.

Might as well see this expedition to its conclusion, even if she was the only one left. She stepped out on to the white floor, headed in no particular direction.

It’s not like she had anything better to do.