Times like these were anything but calm for Jak as voices haunted him and those who he failed to protect screamed at him.

A almost real Jak bent down and and felt the orange fuzz in a mess as he screamed. This was his friend and the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

The captain laughed as Jak felt so broken in this moment. Rage filled the eco warriors heart as he screamed. Come on Dax…. d...Dax.

He held the Ottsel in light Jak as he tried and failed to heal the Ottsel bloody body in his arms.

Now torn and Daxter were dead. Courescant had hell to pay

The jedi—what the fuck is a jedi?—was dead.
 
In fact, she was extremely dead, since the cyborg’s noncom had shoved some kind of weird teleporter down the convict’s throat.  With their target dead, the 13th Legion had taken that moment to swoop down from the shattered roof of the facility like the awful and terrible cavalry that they were.
 
With two of the transporters crashing down through what was left of the roof, the largest one dropped down a few yards away from Seventeen.  A group of stormtroopers marched out from the ramp, and behind them, the familiar armored figure of Lieutenant Skleros materialized.  The commanding officer, her yellow paint accents looking fresh amid all the drab of the prison, turned to Seventeen.  “Where is Staff Sergeant Zulenka?”
 
Was this the part where he saluted?
 
I’m awful at this gig.
 
“She’s over there,” he muttered as he jerked his head toward the collapsed wall.  “I mean… over there, Ma’am!”  At that, the raven-haired warrior stamped his boots onto the ground and snapped off the meanest salute he could muster.  Although she was wrapped in armor that concealed her actual physical features, the cyborg could almost feel the woman’s eyes burning holes through him as he stared at her with a goofy grin smeared on his dirty face.
 
Stepping passed the sergeant, the lieutenant took a few steps toward the rubble just as it toppled to the side to reveal a scowling Beatrix Zulenka.  “Got your call, Staff Sergeant Zulenka.”
 
“Yea,” Trixie muttered as she brushed some dust and particulate from her arms and chest.  “A bit fucking late with your arrival… Ma’am.”
 
Bianca Skleros popped her helmet off and handed it to one of her adjuncts.  Without the plastic stormtrooper face, her very clear discomfort was laid bare for the pair of primes.  “We’re dealing with some shit, Trixie.”  She turned to glance at Seventeen, who had taken that moment to remove his helmet and dangle it at his waist.  “You and the activities of your new friend over there attracted you some attention.”
 
“What kind of attention?”  Trixie inquired.
 
“I don’t know if one of you had a tracker left on you, or if these people were just that good.”
 
“What went down?”  The staff sergeant demanded, her already low reserves of patience running on little more than fumes. 
 
“They hit your home,” Lieutenant Skerlos responded.  “Not sure if they were Rebels, run-of-the-mill thugs, or some upstart terrorism cell.  Either way, they ransacked the place.  Not only did they destroy much of it, but they also infected your system.  The whole thing was corrupted—the AI and everything.  What wasn’t completely ravaged had to be destroyed by our sweep team.”
 
“Nova?  Aisha?”  Trixie’s voice had lost some of its fervor, and Seventeen noticed that his nomcom’s shoulders seemed to sag a little.
 
“They’re okay.  We’ve secured the place, and they are being treated by medical staff.  You should come with us, we’ll take you there.”
 
Peeling off her damaged helmet, Trixie jogged toward the transport.  After dumping the expensive piece of tech on the floor of the vessel, she dropped into one of the seats and slipped the harness over her body.  From the faraway look in her eye and the mechanical nature of her movements, it was obvious that the woman’s body was running more on muscle memory.  For her part, Lieutenant Skleros had flashes of concern on her face as she turned back to face the sergeant.
 
“I know now is probably not the opportune time, but the two of you are receiving commendation medals from High Command.  I’m not really sure how you got wind that this raid was about to happen, but you saved lives here.  A lot of these criminals had links to gangs on Tier 4 and black market ops on Tier 5.”
 
“I think Trixie has a contact or something,” Seventeen lied.  The woman had told him this was a ‘mission,’ but who the hell had sent her on it if not her command officer?
 
In silence, Seventeen boarded the armored transport and strapped himself into a seat across from his noncom.  The woman glanced up from the floor and gave him a simple nod—a silent acclamation for a job well down.
 
“Who’s Nova?  She’s the blond lady, right? A friend?”  The cyborg asked, hoping to prevent Trixie from drifting into a state of complete shellshock.
 
“A very close friend,” the redhead replied as she momentarily glanced up at her companion.  The look on the woman’s face and the tone of her voice relayed the true closeness of her friendship with Nova.
 
Ahhh. That revelation brought a frown to Seventeen’s face.  It was hard to have a loved one suffer and nearly die.  In his old world, he had watched the mother of his children die not once, twice, but three fucking times.  Each of those times, she had died in his arms, her eyes pleading with him to save her.  After her last ‘recovery’ from death, Paige had become pregnant, and the entire relationship had gone to hell after that.  A unique and beautiful creature imbued with powers beyond her born facilities, normal human hormones served as the tipping point.
 
It got better after the twins were born, but even then, Seventeen had noticed something different in the eyes of his children’s mother.  The tension at the mansion was still there, and they struggled to stay madly in love with the wail of children and the scent of soiled diapers.
 
In many ways, that had been the closest to a normal life that Seventeen had ever known.
 
Who would have thought that glimpse at normality would have broken him so thoroughly?  He went off at the first sign of galactic attacks and died.  He came back, masquerading as a living person, for a few more months before he ran off to die in one of Karl Jak’s freak show contests.  He’d spent four years drowning himself in training regimens, content to watch the world spin on its own.  If not for the Stallions, he probably would still be alternating his time between the Kai’s dojo and the golf course.
 
Minoshia probably still sucks at golf.

With a sigh, Seventeen rested his hands on his knees.  This place ain’t all that different from home…
 
Glancing out a small window on the side of the transport, Seventeen watched the neon lights of Tier 4 faded into the haze of the city as they made their way up toward the next level of the city.  An eta on the cockpit told him they’d be at their destination in under ten minutes.  While he had very little actual investment in the woman’s base of operations, he understood the pain she had to feel at knowing that what she had built up had been broken to pieces.
 
That was a familiar pain for the machine-hybrid—one that even a few years of fighting cosmic martial artists couldn’t satiate.

The powerful, the ancient- they cannot be allowed to act indefinitely. That is why they hibernate.

It wasn't as though she was intending to find her "other side" so... easily. Her fingers traced the petals of a sunflower that sprang from the ground as she took a step, though they passed through when she applied any pressure. She wasn't really here. Her body had been discarded somewhere in the physical realm. A shame- she'd need to work on that one.

Though her shoes weren't truly touching it, the thick grass beneath her feet rippled out like water as she took slow, calculated steps through the ever-expanding field. In the corners of her vision she could see the edges of the field marred by the claw-like grasp of encroaching mountains, but as she turned, they disappeared. Whatever. It was a dream- dreams were dreams. They'd always and still be dreams, she told herself. They didn't and couldn't make sense.

She breathed in.

A riot of colors painted the grass as the ripples faded. Though she hadn't exactly intended to make flowers bloom, there they were. Her hand arced a simple path, painting another swath further away. Ah. Her eyes closed, but her feet kept moving. Slowly, casually, deliberately. She could recall in the very back of her mind what feeling this was, but she hadn't a name to give it. All she could tell herself was that she had felt it before, but so long ago she didn't have any memory of when.

She wasn't sure what she was thinking anymore. Through her closed eyes, all she saw were the colors she imagined drawing on the ground below her.

Quote:just something to get me back into the mode of writing for her.

i have been procrastinating to hell and back finishing this as one post so i'm breaking it up into parts. bite m

Have you ever wondered how comfortable your head is for people (for instance, a Sundoge) to sit, lay down on, or hat? Well you probably haven't but Now's your chance to find out! Just post here and a certified head-tester will conduct a test and assign you a score.
Also, if you have multiple heads or a body without a head or something comparable, we may judge another hattable bodypart at our discretion.

Note: You can submit more characters after I judge yours, but don't ask me to judge two or three characters in one post. That way, if there is many people that are waiting, everyone gets their turn faster.



(Yes, yes, I know I still have the Monster Tinder thread to finish, leave me alone <_<)

The walk through the Nexus was an unpleasant one. His wounds had him grunting with pain from each step, but he could not let the next step be his last. He was too stubborn to die after a battle, like some sort of pathetic weakling. The trail of blood he left was not a good sign of health either. Had either of the Fist users wanted to track him, they would have no troubles.
 
He looked off to the distance to the gate he had chosen. It looked like stone. Familiar and rustic, like the gates to some of the temples back in Japan. He would not go there, at least not quite yet. Instead he kneeled and tended to his wounds. He shredded cloth from his already tattered pants legs to wrap around his various wounds. The last scraps of his shirt were also used to help staunch the bleeding.
 
After surviving as many fights as he, one was wise to learn a thing or two. His breath was still troubled, but after an hour of labor, he left no crimson trail. The first few steps in a new direction almost tracked along the steps of the old before he veered just slightly. The new path would lead him almost straight across the Nexus, and hopefully distract any who would follow his trail in later days.
 
Takezo was becoming fully aware that he needed to rest. Dante’s Abyss had been fun, but it wore him out. In his new immortality he still waged war against exhaustion, hunger, thirst and stress of the mind. The latter was starting to eat away at him.
 
What would a sword do against a man that can fly? Chakravartin may have been standing on equal ground at one point, but if he could remain airborne and attack from afar, even the proud swordsman acknowledged defeat. The god no longer stood upon the earth like a mortal, and Takezo had no desire to ascend to the heavens quite yet. The idea of wielding a bow or other secondary weapon also displeased him.
 
How had the golden robed man done it? He shimmered like that stuff the faceless figure had offered. Omnilium, Takezo remembered. Without it, I am nothing. With it… anything I desire can be mine. At least, the conversation went something like that. He did not feel as bound to it as he supposed other Primes might. He did not feel any different, to be honest with himself. The only difference was that he had died and yet still walks. In the after math his walk was more of a shuffling along with a few grunts every other step.
 
The question was there though. Could he perform magic? Like the yokai of legends?
 
A smirk formed. “I could really become a demon.” The words were spoken aloud, their wickedness tainting the silence. As he walked, the swordsman slowly drew his weapon. With each step of his right foot, he cut the air.
 
“Hai!” One.
 
“Hai!” Two.
 
“Hai!” Three.
 
The one-handed strikes were swift. With each right step he flicks his wrist and unleashes his grunts for another swift blow against nothing. With each left step, he refocused himself, resetting his sword position and recalibrates. The number of attacks climb into the double digits.
 
Fifty or so cuts in, he achieves his goal. He felt his reach extend, if ever so slightly. He could almost see the blade of air slash outwards behind his weapon. It was a wind honed as fine as a razor. It was like the dreaded Kamaitachi slashing about with its sickle claws. The winds of the yokai were so brutal, they were said to shred the flesh from bone.
 
Takezo’s razor wind was weak, but it was fast. Each right step, he would unleash another, the faint whistle of wind like music to his ears.  His lips were curled into a perpetual grin. This was what this world had to offer. How entertaining. It was hard not to laugh at his new achievement.
 
The child-god may think he has surpassed him, but he did little more than inspire the swordsman. The number of cuts slowly approached triple digits as Takezo walked. It was almost beautiful, how the blade of wind sailed so far beyond reach before dissipating. No, it truly was beautiful.
 
One hundred cuts. Takezo was breathing hard again. His wounds hurt and he was sure during his focus he had left a drop or two of blood in his wake. It was too late to care about that now. He was excited and eager to try this new technique on a more solid victim. Sadly, there were none to be found in the Nexus at the moment, not even a tree to cut.
 
With a flick, his sword is sheathed again and his pace quickened. He felt no pain, thanks to the adrenaline pumping through him, though he knew he would feel it soon. Wounds littered his body, hunger was beginning to creep in, his throat was parched. Perhaps the next gate would have a village just on the other side.
 
That is what Takezo banked on as he locked his eyes onto a distant anomaly he assumed to be a gate. He could not make out the details of the gate from this distance, but it would no doubt be better than here. The blankness of the Nexus made the swordsman uncomfortable if he thought on it too long.
 
With great vigor, the wounded warrior unwittingly makes his way towards the Vasty Deep gate.

Happy birthday Kaylee!

The Broken Mirrors (name recently changed due to... new management) was something between a street gang and a mafia-- mostly the former, considering that the leader of said group wasn't exactly mafia material. Sure, he wore the fancy suit, walked the walk and could charm most muggles around his finger, but deep down, he was just as thuggish and erratic as the rest of them. Something about the illicit dealings of Coruscant's underbelly just got his blood pumping, especially when he was personally involved.

That would probably explain why he was totally and utterly bored today. In his attempts to emulate the organized crime syndicates and keep his underlings in control, he had unwittingly delegated himself to a desk job, sending out members to do whatever dirty work was necessary as he managed his resources. Frankly, it didn't suit him one bit. He would have to change that at some point, although the subsequent loss of control that would follow had left him procrastinating on that decision.

And so he was left with looking over things in his office. Normally he would've kept the charade of patience, playing around with the little collection of desk toys he had summoned a while back when no one was watching, but today was awfully slow. Eric and Razor were currently out, smuggling some high-tech guns to a shady engineer in Tier 3, and the rest were attending to their own lives. Well, except maybe one person, although "person" wasn't really the right word.

Leaning over, the slinky man pressed down a little red button hidden on the back of his desk. "Daisy? I would like to speak with you," he said, his words carrying to where it was needed thanks to the little headset he had created. He intended to outfit more of his top mooks with the devices, but he wanted to test it a little further. Having said those words, he leaned back in his leather chair and waited.

Tor was in the middle of seeing how many times his chair could spin around in one go when the door opened. A yellow hoof was curled around the edge of the door, followed by the technicolor pony it belonged to. "You wanted me, Tor?"

As soon as he noticed the equine waiting for him, he swiftly placed his hands on the armrests and pulled his chair to a squeaky halt. "Yes, I did," he replied, pretending that he had never been twirling around in the first place.

Oopsie Daisy was somewhat of an oddball amongst her friends-- after all, the rest of the gang was at least humanoid, while she was a lemon-colored unicorn. The Distortionist had no idea why she was even in the Broken Mirrors in the first place, but when he asked around, the general consensus was that she had arrived thinking that it was her new workplace and never realized that she was mistaken. And since she was helpful for team morale (and had surprisingly good accounting skills), they never bothered to tell her.

The pony trotted up to the desk and nodded, pushing away her curly, rose red hair. "So... what'cha want?"

"Well, I need to take today off. Would you mind taking my place until I come back?" Even though he didn't really want to relinquish his hold, he figured Daisy wasn't going to try and backstab him.

"Run the place? For a whole day?"

"Yes!" He reached out to place a finger under her chin. "Think of it like... a temporary promotion. You get to be the boss today!"

The equine blushed and glanced away. "Really? Why, I'm honored! ...What do I do?"

"It's real simple," he began, rising out of his chair and making his way around the desk. "You sit here and make sure make sure everything is in order." He pulled her over to where he had been sitting and set her down. "If anyone wants something from us, let them know that I'm out for the night." He shifted over to the door, opening it. "And if one of our members have any work-related problems, help them however you can. Oh, and make sure everything is being done on time. Got that?"

"I think I do," she murmured her hooves rubbing across the wooden desk like it was an ancient treasure, "but-"

But he was already gone.

He took a moment to preen himself in the bathroom, brushing his white hair until it was nice and smooth. Unfortunately there wasn't anything he could do about his skin-- it was also white, like a piece of paper, and the two black circles on his cheeks made him look almost like a deranged doll. But his razor-like smile and expressive eyes (despite his frayed, gray irises giving the pupils a swirling, almost hypnotic look) helped to stymie the eeriness somewhat. Figuring he did all he could do to make himself look better, he paraded outside and summoned his signature bat, as well as a little pouch filled with money, and waltzed off into the night.

If there was one thing that Tor could say he liked about Tier 5, he would say "because it was dark." Something about the black abyss that was effectively 5's sky reminded him of home. And not in a bad way, either-- there was plenty of things he could do in the night. It didn't matter that his entire body was the color of ivory; if you have enough darkness, you can hide anything.

After about 15 minutes of wandering the slums, he came across a building that caught his eye. A bright, neon sign announced that it was a pub, the "Blac 'n' Blu Bar," in fact, complete with a lady laying provocatively across the letters with a glass in her hands. The sight brought a smile to the reflection's face. This sounded like a good time to him. Without breaking his stride, he turned to enter the establishment. He pushed the door open as he stepped in with confidence. 

Techno music blared out of speakers surrounding the dance floor, setting the stage for a dance-off between an elf in robes and a heavily-scarred troll. This, however, didn't interest him in the slightest. Not unless he was participating. But he didn't feel like strutting his stuff at the moment-- he wanted a few drinks in his system first. He made a beeline for the bar, sitting down in the first unoccupied seat he could find.

The bartender was admittedly impressive, juggling bottles between customers as he served them in front of a display of multicolored ice. Instead of a typical shelf, all of the drinks were placed into the holes of a giant block of ice. Endless arrays of lights flashed behind the frozen barrier, giving the impression that it was changing colors. That... was actually pretty clever; the drinks were always cold and the customers would have front row seats to a little light show. Even the monochrome man found himself enthralled by the display.

But not enough to be unable to order a drink when the opportunity came his way. He said nothing, instead pointing at a bottle with a rainbow sheen. The bartender was swift, pulling it out and pouring it in one motion. He garnished the glass with a tiny umbrella, then slid it the reflection's way. Tor caught it eagerly, giving the man an appreciative nod as he started to drink the bubbly, purple liquid.

The only thing that could make this better, he thought, was if he found a pretty woman to woo. Or if a bar fight broke out. Either was acceptable.

Greetings,

My name is Tearen Wover. I recently made my existence known to the Omniverse at large via an appearance on this year's Summer Syntech Event. Despite whatever mixed feelings may have come of this, know that I am willing to share the secrets of my power, for it can indeed be learned by any thinking mind. I will teach on an ad-hoc basis, with facilities provided for self study. Main lectures will include:

- Reality, and other Falsehoods
- Stepping past Infinity
- Speaking to the Zeitgeist
- Thou Art God
- The Practices of True Power

In exchange, however, I ask that you listen to what I have to say, and if you are willing, answer the call that I will put forth in this message. If you come to the place I choose to teach these skills, I will expect you to be familiar with this mindset and ethos. Other than that, the only thing required for my tutelage is an open mind.


Surely if you have not heard of the Underverse by now, you are days fresh from the Fountain of Infinity. This hellish dimension stirs in the shadowed places of the Omniverse, and its overlord, Diablo is more than capable of launching another devastating invasion against the Omniverse itself, reigniting the flames we thought extinguished over five years ago. By giving you access to these skills, I am simply teaching you how to use something you already had, but I urge those under my guidance to use these innate talents to further the Omniverse towards cohesion and unity. Only by forming a definite defense against the Underverse can we hope to stave it off, and futhermore, we can only achieve this by getting our hands dirty.

Those who would pursue such undertakings may wear the mantle of Enigma, and be recognized by their peers as such. Once you have learned the ways of the Enigma, as I teach them, you will be able to recognize one another intuitively. As an Enigma, it is your calling to interfere with proceedings in the Omniverse where you see stagnation and rot. In times of peace and decadence, where people are uninspired and complacent, we will incite action and conflict. In times of attrition and destruction, we will serve as a balm, so that thoughtfulness and ingenuity can resume. We are devils, healers, saints, thieves, warriors and counselors. We are whatever the Omniverse needs us to be to keep it on the course of advancement and progress.

By acting as an Enigma, you answer to a call inside of yourself to elicit change from those around you. We have no hierarchy, and we are accountable to no one. We act as free agents, as we see fit. Betimes we might oppose one another; this is possible. Other times, we will cooperate; this is ideal. At all times we will only act when we have reached true comprehension of what action is needed, and when we do act, it is with complete confidence. These are the tenets by which all Enigmas should operate:


1. I am but part of a greater infinity. There is no such concept as worthless, and I look for the value in all things.
2. Because I look for the value in all things, I know that I must resort to destruction as a final choice.
3. Destruction and any other action is only made when I know that my decision is right, and I act only at cusp.
4. I do not rush.
5. I do not dawdle.
6. Every thinking mind is priceless, and I cherish it as such.
7. Though a mind is priceless, I will not hesitate to silence one if it may allow others to flourish.
8. I have no attachment to my material existence; all physical things are transient, and so I give freely to those who are in need.
9. All rules, legal and moral, shall ever guide me, but never control me.
10. I will not forsake my own happiness, for I am as much a God as any other shard of Infinity.


Follow this ethos, and I am sure that your paths will be made plain to you. I will, of course, be happy to answer your questions either on this message board, or in person, should you choose to attend. On that note, I will be making myself at home on the outskirts of the city of Ambrosia, in the Tangled Green. Make your way to that city, and you will not be hard-pressed to find me. I will be here for some time, but not indefinitely. If you are truly interested in what I have to offer, I trust you will make arrangements for your affairs as needed.

I look forward to helping you unlock the deity within.

Until then,

Stay safe.

Purchases and Deductions for Shu En'Asena go here!

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Please also include the total OM spent in-category if applicable. For example, "Total Powers Spent: 5700/800" or "New Consumed OM: 500".

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Character name: Ian Sylvester

Character source: original

Character history: Imagine a 1900's swing artist was given a modern computer, now imagine that computer was taken away after he got to make some noise with it and was given music powers. he lived in a smallish city, more of a large town with large buildings really. magic in this world was next to non-existent and  technology was as it was in the 1900's, however he managed to get his hands on a modern laptop...curious device isn't it? anywho, he was able to make music with it so he enjoyed his time with it, until it broke as all cheep laptops nowadays do. then omni brought him here, to the omniverse, gave him awesome powers and dropped him at the fountain.

Physical Description: 6'3", lanky build, has brunette curly hair tucked under a black cabbie, he wears an equally black vest and tie over a white shirt, wears black dress pants that match the vest (originals only)

Stats
ATK 1
DEF 1
SPD 3
TEC 5

Starting Proficiencies: ranged Proficiency (1000) , Area defense (400), Remote Control Proficiency (600),

Starting Powers
basic telekinesis (400)
phasing (1200)

Starting Moves
illusionary electro swing(900) - Ranged, remote control, area defense, phasing


Ian, after taking five seconds to gather the necessary energy, summons up to a maximum of 10, 6 x 3 inch blades (based on his TEC stat where 1 point in TEC = 1 blade). These blades look like the neon outline of the shape provided in the spoiler below. Ian controls these blades using telekinesis and can move them around at a maximum speed of 15 feet per second (slightly faster then someone with 1 stat in SPD) and their maximum distance is 30 feet in diameter around himself. Ian can move around while utilizing his blades but only at a walking pace, fighting with these blades takes a lot of his concentration. If a blade happens to extend too far (past it's limit), it will disappear. If a blade is destroyed Ian can re-summon it. It takes one second to re-summon a blade. 

Alternatively, Ian can summon up to a maximum of five, 3ft x 3ft ,cubes (based on his TEC stat where 2 pints in TEC = 1 Cube). These cubes look like the neon outline of the color of my choice. Ian controls the use of these cubes using telekinesis and can move them at a speed of 5 feet per second. These cubes are only solid while they are completely still, moving these cubes around renders them partially transparent and incorporeal. Additionally, these cubes will not become solid while partially inside something (They will not become solid inside of a person/ object). Ian can stack these on top of each other to create a shield capable of protecting his whole body, though sufficient damage will destroy them, or a platform that he can walk on. If a cube is destroyed, Ian can re-summon it. Re-summoning a cube takes two seconds. Ian can move around while utilizing his cubes but only at a walking pace.[spoiler]

oh, and it's neater looking[/spoiler]

of course I can play songs without summoning anything, when I do this it's just rp fluff and doesn't do anything but make noise      

quick thanks to the peeps at the omniverse discord for helping me, and extra thanks to denial for translating my noobly written move into something acceptable


I confirm that I have read and agreed to the Rules of Conduct

Where did you find us
found you by wandering google, finding a site that listed rp sites, found you guys, and joined

I think thats everything, lemme know If I forgot somethin'