13 saw his quarry, the felind who was determined to constantly deny him his prize of the scythe she constantly held. It didn’t appear like she had seen him yet but she was constantly looking around, at the very least she knew he was here. And sending weak homing projectiles into the darkness but 13 was able to dodge them easily enough. He knew his area around this hive city and could melt away into the shadows only to appear again somewhere else. She was tiring and 13 wasn’t, it wouldn’t be long until she would have to sleep and he could easily kill her in her sleep. At last it appeared that she would stop to sleep when she turned around “I, I don’t know if you’re there or who you are but can’t we just solve this peacefully?” 13 decided that it was time to move in. Drawing his hood over his head he walked forwards with his pistol out and aimed it at her head as the light washed over him, 13 began speaking in a monotone that could only mean that had said this 1000 times before. “You are accused of leaving the emperors light, resisting arrest as a psyker and being a mutant and defying me. Hand me your staff and your sentence might be lowered from execution to being sacrificed to the Omnissiah, a justified change if there ever was one.” He took out and set up his sniper rifle, aiming it at her head. Ebony was worried, not knowing if diplomacy was the way over fighting but she had to try at the very least.

Quote:271 words

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Title, no details are down at the time of this being posted.

When someone's freaking out like the way Desman was, it was hard to not listen. It was easy for someone like Ash to ignore anything but pure curiosity about the situation. "Was he about to say, Dad?" She asked to herself, moving around to the control panel. She manipulated the wires to her needs and through the same process of fusing with Desman, she Jack’s in. Unlike the fusion, Ash didn’t immediately knock out. Instead, she had time to sit down and lay against the pod before she chose to enter cyberspace.

Immediately she was welcomed with Desman’s voice, screaming bloody mary and tears running down his face whether he knew it or not. She just stood there and let him have it out for a moment, her tail flicking naturally behind her. Her bored eyes look around at the nothingness of the area. It was their personal space, so it only made sense. She tested the functions of her cyberdeck, having not been in VR before here on the Omniverse.

She tried to manipulate her image, only to find access denied. Her brows came together instantly. ‘What does that mean?’ She thought, turning back to her cyberdeck and trying once more. Big red letters shot up from her screen in a hologram: ACCESS DENIED: REQUIRED PROGRAM NEEDED FOR SHAPESHIFTING!!

She hit it with her fists, drowned out by Desman’s screaming. With the slightest hint of rage in her blood finally, she turned to him and gave his face another slap. It wasn’t the face of the man she was used to seeing in cyberspace, but it didn’t hurt her hand either. “Stop! What’s wrong this time?” Every time they gained any progress towards his chill level, he spikes it to the ground with yet another fit. It was starting to get draining.

The sudden sting across his metallic jaw-line dragged Desman back into modern day reality; he stared up blankly at the woman, then sighed and averted his gaze. "L-look, I don't want to talk about it. C-can't we just go." there was a definite tone of depression in his voice, this comment seems to be more serious than his other little fits he had been emotionally breaking down over.

A brow rose behind her horns at that, but she found herself calming down little but little again. "What do you mean you don’t want to talk about it?” She insisted, crossing her arms. “You were just talking about it!” He'd notice she wasn't making any attempt to leave. She had the power to lock him in here and might do so if he doesn't comply.

"Look, VR isn't all fun and games for everyone, I-" Desman gulped, trying not to think too much. "I've some bad experience, okay? I, really don't want to go into details.."

Unfortunately for Desman, this was the one time Ash felt like digging. She was normally only curious when it sounded interesting. This sounded like basic abuse but for a different class of people. “Fine. Let’s make a bet then. We play a game, and if I win you tell me. If you win...“ She stopped, actually not having a motivation for him thought out but quickly smirking and running her hands down her body in a very sexual way but they stop at her hips like she wasn’t about to grab herself for him to get the full force of the idea. “Well, you can pick your own prize. I’ll tell you anything you want to know or do whatever you want me to do. No strings, no games, no secrets.”

Desman just sat there silently for awhile, while from the outside it looked like he was deciding whether it was worth it or not, his mind was just racing for an idea of how to get out of the situation. "....fine" he sighed in defeat. "what type of game did you have in mind?"

Ash’s tail flicked happily at his agreement. Her hand came back up and tapped a few buttons on her deck. Boxes with game titles appeared in holograms. Using her finger she waved through the selection. If he was observant enough he could see the impressive number indicating how many games she had in her library.

He felt dread settle itself in his processor when he realized she meant to keep going with this VR idea. His flight instinct kicked back in and he shakily summoned a menu to log out. Unfortunately, he had to scroll just a little bit down to get to the button. This left him concentrating on what he was doing and not what was going on.

His menu shatters like pixelated glass as a blade slashes through it. Red Devil’s Quill landed on the ground at his feet. When he looked up at her, she was clearly not amused by his attempts to leave. “Do that again.. And I will lock you in here…” She threatened, her cyberdeck turning from its cold blue to purple as a warning.

Could she even do that? The robot had no idea but wasn't willing to test it out. "O-okay." He just hoped that the game was as far away from his experiences as possible.

Her eyes narrow a bit as if challenging him to push his luck.

Then she simply went back to selecting a game. She had been planning something a little beginner friendly to start with, but now she was tempted to drop something difficult on him. She tried to remain calm, she didn’t like her emotions flying off the handle like that. If there was no meaning behind your outbursts, they meant even less to people who were subjected to them.

Her hand went back to the holographic titles and flipped through them. She considered the idea of asking what he wanted to play but decided he lost that privilege. She clicked on a shooter.

The very limited space quickly became a large map. At their backs, virtual water lapped at the sands. Above them a dreary day of dark clouds outlined by hopeful rays, cut in two by a sudden flash of sickly green lightning. The world was both beautiful and chaotic around them. In the distance, they could see cathedrals and towers of old Europe. They could also see modern machines of war; tanks letting loose their cannons in the distance. In Ash’s hand, a starting machine gun appeared, at her back, a sniper rifle.

She had been in nothing but the panties she’d summoned, but now wore skin tight and form fitting armor. She examined her gun. “Whoever gets the most kills wins.” She explained. “Friendly fire has been turned off.” She added, then began to walk forward down the linear path. Ahead they would find some basic waist high walls for cover that would indicate a fire fight is about to go down.

The robot had to remind himself that these would be computers they were facing as he hurried along to join Ash, at least then he wouldn't hold back.

-

Ash slammed her back into yet another stray wall. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how repetitive a shooter can get, she didn’t care. It was fun just holding the trigger down and watching bodies fall. If shooters got any more complicated than that, they’d be something else entirely. They were fighting other humanoids but mutated sometimes. Without the cut scenes - which she cut out for simplicity sake - or the dialogue of pre-made characters it was hard to understand what was going on. But basically they were fighting failed experiments for super soldiers as fodder, and occasionally a big bad successful super soldier as a boss.

She was at 117 kills so far. This could be read at the corner of her vision in her hub. She couldn’t see Desman’s total, but she was confident it was still below her’s.

That said, she was getting a little bored with this game. She had more challenging shooters, but there had to be something with more variety in her library. She jumped out and with her machine gun, she peppered a lowly soldier until he stopped moving on the ground before ducking back into hiding.

She also preferred another type of game, survival horror. She wondered if he could handle something like that...

Then she decided that if he wanted to win he was going to have to.

While Desman was tearing through a set of enemies, he’d watch as the vegetation around them began to pulse and grow, it consumed the world around them, and one of the new trees ensnared several of the incoming enemies with a frog tongue-like motion with a sticky vine. The super soldier's cry out in desperation before they are silenced with what sounds like bones crunching in the bushier limbs that he could not see.

The grotesque creatures he’d been eliminating for points in their game turned to fire at something in the tree but then were assaulted by something even more twisted, big, and stomach curling.

It had six limbs in total and the outer layers of its flesh looked wet. Upon closer inspection, if he dares, reveals that it was also somewhat transparent and the mix of colors in its flesh was they many strangely shaped and sized organs that beat unnaturally with the pulse of blood.

It had no eyes, sensory type obviously. Its maw comes to a point of smooth almond shape until it opens its mouth to eat the head of one of the soldier's its tentacles had pinned to the ground. Rows upon rows upon rows of sharp jagged teeth wrap around it before crushing the helmet until the blood of the poor experimented on human runs past its lips as it chewed briefly then swallowed the skull and brains.

Another one falls upon a few more humans that were trying to escape before the first one turns its oblong head in Desman’s direction. Gill like slots expands across the ‘bridge’ of its muzzle as it sniffs out more prey.

Desman quite gladly accepted the change in enemies, they reminded him much less of the VR 'game' that he had to endure though, sure the thing it did remind him of wasn't the happiest thing either, but at least no one died from it, well, at least not from the monsters.

The creature sniffed the air deeply, while Desman mentally prepared himself to take on this large monster it seemed to size him up by the smell he was giving off.

It rolled in the air like its body had no top or bottom, or if it did it was upside down. Its limbs touched the building it had leaped out of, its ‘paws’ connecting to the overgrown vegetation that grew across the face of the deteriorated building. Like a magnet, the creature clung to it and began to sniff the air once more.

Behind him appeared Ash, the machine gun firing full blast at something out of view. Something that could return fire as a spray of bullets tried to rip her to pieces. She ducked behind a falling apart wall which is chipped away at the bullets from whatever was following the demon. She has long striped pieces of the armor away to make it easier to move, but if he could tear his eyes from the creature long enough he’d see blood pouring from a bullet wound in her arm. There was another hole in her leg, making movement a little more difficult but not by much.

By the time he could look back, the creature was already moving again. Silently, quickly, and in glob like movements that were strange to the eye as well as how you’d describe them. It ran like a mix between a bipedal of four legs and a centipede. Its limbs rippled as they moved, and clawed to get the distance it needed for its new prey. It made no sound but looked like it struggled to move at all. It had no grace, but it also had no sound.

Desman watched as it passed him on the falling buildings, heading straight for the sex demon that he called his friend. Ash didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the people that were closing in on her. She still works a grin, but for how long?

Desman fired a round of his blaster at the creature, all three of his attacks missed as the thing got closer to Ash. Trying to close the distance for a better aim, the robot leaped over a wall, only to stumble and fall as his wheel caught on it. 'Fuck'

The familiar sound of Desman’s body crashing to the ground caught Ash’s attention, she glanced over just in time to see the creature wobbling closer. Her face twisted up in disgust before she forced herself away from the corner she’d tuck herself into.

A spray of bullets greeted her, but Ash ducked away to avoid it. She heard the armor take the abuse of most of it, then screams of the people who’d be firing at her as the creature landed on the ground behind her. For something she hadn’t noticed a moment ago, it was loud upon landing. Spearing through two of the four guys and letting the other two run for their lives, it turned back to Ash.

Desman watched as it snatched her in mid stride.

Ash felt the air being forced out of her lungs as she was scooped off her feet and into the air. Twisting in the creature’s grasp gathers electricity in her hand before touching its limb. The blue lightning traveled up its slick arm but even as it screeched out in pain it’s arm kept carrying her through the air to the opposite side of its body. Where she was slammed with all its power into the ground with such force they could hear something break.

What kind of superstitions do you subconsciously abide by or believe in?

I always get real spooked when I see someone open an umbrella indoors. I avoid going under ladders, if I see a penny I'll pick it up and be delighted or bummed out depending on if it's heads or tails, respectively, and I always feel like crossing my fingers will increase the likelihood of something good happening to me, and I distictly remember crossing my fingers when lying when I was younger (I don't lie about eating extra sweets much now, it's like HECK YES I DID). I also do the tossing spilled salt over your shoulder bit. IDK, man, idk.

What are your superstitions?

So I tried XCOM 2 last night, It was fun but a bit slow on my computer due to graphics and all.

Current Setup

Setting: Japanese Junior High School Dojo on a mountain top
Random Elements: On
Hazards: On
Civilian Casualties: On
Military/Law Enforcement Interference: On
Intros: On (intros don't count towards total post count)
Post Limit Per Player: 3
Word Cap: 1000?
Time Limit: Two weeks

Loud and vibrant, the glittering lights of Coruscant's hidden jewel sparkled in the artificial night. High rises rose in straight, orderly blocks, reaching towards the lamps far above, fading in ambition the futher out from the city center one got, dissolving at last into a tangled web of back alleys and single-story residential/commercial quarters.

Nalia reflected on the state of things as looked out over the shadowed masses far in the distance. Glimmering orbs coming and going, flitting like fireflies below.
 
Like ants...

A soft snore from behind - the client was already satisfied. A regular of her services, Nalia knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't wake until the artificial morning's light streamed in. Heavy sleeper.

Her reflection stared back at her from the surface of the transparisteel window, lit from behind by the soft incandescence of artificial light ebbing from the nightstand. Red skin, horns, neon pink eyes with vertical pupils, and a spade-tipped tail - his tastes were certainly conventional. She wasn't as much of a fan, herself. But she wasn't paid to have opinions.

Nalia undid the silk rope that held her robe closed, letting the garment fall by the wayside. Another glance behind, ears alert for the continued snoring, before she closed her eyes.

Before the Omniverse, she had been an artist. Like others of her shade, she found great beauty in the many forms life could take. In her mind's eye, she could capture them - every minute detail, down to the hairs on their arms, etched in stone within.

A heat pumped inside her, filling her bones, swelling rapidly, hot enough to melt. Legs wobbled, the warm sensation reaching out of her pores, almost steaming the air itself. She lost her sense of sight, then of smell, hearing, and taste, as her facial features dissolved, then pulled back together, one by one, into rough fascimiles. Eyes opened, blank and featureless, her body a mass of pink gel formed in the shape of a human. That remained - but only for a moment. Splotches hardened, contracted, forming into pale skin, spreading like milk dropped in coffee. Shape distended, shortened, lengthened, pulling and stretching. Swelled, narrowed, fingers and toes forming out of the mass. Nails, hairs, lips, primary and secondary sexual characteristics - softly defined at first, like looking at something through a heavy blur, before solidifying, like pulling out of a dream in reverse.

Soon, the changing was complete, and a blonde, freckled waif looked back at her. She blinked - thrice. Opened mouth, did a quick count. Leaned forward, inspecting the web of color in her irises. Perfect replication.


She gathered her clothes quietly, putting them in her handbag and extracting a separate set. Her next client would be expecting her soon. Dress donned, she slipped a faux diamond stud from the bag and attached it to her ear. Quiet as she came, she left the room, the stone catching the warm light of the lamp before the door could click shut, molten surface glowing like a firefly.

Greeting, Victor.

It is me, Erik Vrell. I arrived in Nippur moments ago, and things are looking grim. As you probably know, the city has fallen apart. The remaining residents rarely leave their homes. I had heard there was relief effort, but I am not seeing any. 

With your help, I am sure we will be able to rebuild, and raise New Babylon up to new heights. I await your reply.

Erik.

Erik's horse stepped through the portal before hesitating when it felt the intense heat of the dunes. The psychic urged his mount onwards, pulling his hood over his head as he did to block out some of the intense sun. The dunes were much the same as he remembered them, not that there was much to remember about miles of near featureless sand dunes. Sighing, he urged the horse to move faster, reluctant to see what state Nippur would be in when he returned. 

The gates of Nippur came into view, looking worse for wear but still standing. Erik passed under the concerningly unmanned gates. As his horse moved through the city towards the centre, he noticed how deserted the place was compared to the bustling city it had been before the King had been banished. The few people he did see were only through quick glimpses of people peeking through windows out of the corner of his eye. If he had been more well known, like Shay, for example, the people might come out to see what was happening, but he was the newest member of New Babylon. Being a psychic cultist probably didn't help either.

 Erik arrived at the King's former home and council. While it was manned, it was by a pair of guards who wore dazed looks and broken expressions. They didn't even turn to look at the psychic as he dismounted and went to walk inside, before deciding to bring his horse in with him. Sadly, this was no longer a place to leave your mount unattended. As he walked through the abandoned halls, he remembered his first, and last, day in Nippur. He had attended a council led by Sasuke himself, and was getting ready to hunt down a cannibal leader before a thief and a weasel attacked and everything went to hell. 

Erik found a desk unattended in what probably used to be someone's office. The room had been picked clean, whether by the poor citizens or by bandits, Erik couldn't be sure. The psychic sat down in the chair, and a cloud of dust rose up, causing Erik to cough lightly. Clearing his throat, Erik got to business planning his next move. He couldn't do this alone, that much he knew. But who could help him? Erik thought for a moment before coming to a decision. If there was anyone who could help him out, it would be Victor. Erik raised his hand and a wisp of violet mist rose from his sleeve, before concentrating in front of his face. The ball of mist then widened to form a screen of sorts in the air. The words "Welcome to the Dataverse!" were displayed on the screen.