Tamsin had left a while ago, and Karl Jak found himself in a meeting with the members of the board. While people had been talking, the man in the purple suit had been staring out the window, lost in his thoughts.

The maid – a relic of his own home world – had left the producer with a sour taste in his mouth. It had taken him a degree of control to ask her more about what she knew. Would she know what the world had become after the war?

Unfortunately, Karl had kept his questions to himself, and just as he had guessed, the maid had gone to a realm of (nearly) no return.

“Well, that’s the last of them,” one of the board members, a man in his forties named Jefferson, remarked. “What are your thoughts on this year’s event, Karl?”

Karl glanced up from the exquisite mahogany meeting table to look at the man. Oh, yes, Jefferson Daniels. Used to live in that terrible flat down on 34th Street. Blown apart by a twelve-megaton energy bomb. Nothing left but the ashes and regret.

“Karl?” Jefferson asked again. As one of the senior members of the board, he was part of a small group of people that called the producer by his first name. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Karl Jak muttered before leaning back in his chair and adjusting himself so he sat comfortably with his lumbar region fully supported. “Just lost a little bit up here,” the producer replied, gesturing to his perfectly coifed head of hair and the gray organ that lay inside his skull.

A slightly older man to the right of Karl spoke up to try and break the silence after her supervisor fell silent again. “It ended a little early, did it not?” Karl nodded his head but didn’t reply, prompting more words from the tense, middle-aged father of three who had been burned alive when the Stallions tore through his neighborhood on the outskirts of Central City. “You think we should have tweaked the drop rate? We should know why now that they’re going to bunch up and avoid each other. Intimidation wins these things a lot of the time.”

“You’re not mistaken, Markus.” Karl, his eyes blinking as he shook away the image of the man’s charred corpse, leaned across the table. “And that play at the end? That adorable little blue child, with her friends willing to stall the death squads?”

Jefferson Daniels smiled. “The audiences really loved when we aired those little recap videos of the final battles. We put it to some sappy music, and they ate it up.”

A quirky-looking woman in her mid-thirties giggled. “You see the graphics that the art department put into it? It was great!”

“The department did a great job, Mrs. Harwley.” Karl looked to the woman’s left, at the head of the art department. The woman called Miss Emerald merely smiled with her wide eyes and nodded her head. She wasn’t one for words, even when her apartment complex collapsed with her sleeping inside of it.

“I have some stock figures we should look at,” the voice was the lead from Accounting. Adam Kuze knew numbers very well—one of the best accountants before the war that claimed his life. “Or would you prefer to wait until later?” Adam had glanced around to see the glazed-over faces that his interjection had generated. “…I’ll tell Jan to leave the spreadsheets.”

Karl snickered as he turned and pointed a finger across the boardroom table to Mr. Smith, who tilted his head in anticipation of the question. “Have you finished getting the final numbers for viewership and subscriptions?”

“Uh,” Mr. Smith grabbed for his cellphone and held it up. “I have my team working on down on Six.” Mr. Smith’s team of Mr. Ness, Mr. Saig, Ms. Ana, Mr. Balado, and Mr. Clarkson were a hardworking group that spent a lot of time on the Dataverse analyzing trends, tracking likes, subscriptions, and digital purchases of Syntech media. They had been some of Karl’s favorite workers back in his own world, and they had been part of the group of secondaries he had created to help run this verse.

The executive producer shook his head. “We can wait, I suppose. It might be best to get the cost and the revenue side-by-side.”

“But, Karl,” Markus inquired, his eyes narrowing. “It went well, didn’t it?”

Karl, who paused for a moment, nodded his head. “Yea, it did. Some of it was frustrating… we’ll have to do a better job maximizing the action and trying to limit the amount of downtime. I got some ideas that I’ll include in next week’s email mailer.” Karl paused to think before he proposed a question to his team. “You think the guy up there enjoys the theatrics?”

“Omni?” Mr. Smith asks, prompting a nod from Karl. “I mean, I’m sure he does. Why else would we be here?”

“Our benefactor,” Karl said with a smile as he toasted an imaginary martini to ‘the man upstairs.’ Not a moment later, a knock on the door pulled the attention to the room to a young man in a bartender’s outfit. As if waiting for the queue, he held a tray of assorted beverages for the board meeting.

A name tag on his shirt read ‘L. Sanderson.’ “Your margarita, Sir.”

“Gracias,” Karl said with a wink as he took the small glass from the bartender. Tipping it back, the producer managed to get just a few drops in before his eyes shot open and he found himself spewing the drink on the table. A beat later, he set the glass down and turned to glare at the novice bartender. “That’s way too much fucking salt for me, Larry.”

Share some of your favorite memories.

Strangely enough one of my favorite memories that came to mind was the look on my friend's face when I visited her in college and we went to target and stuff and I ended up buying her household supplies, then carried them all the way up to her dorm by myself. I still have the pic she took of me in the hallway with me as the donkey, paper towels and several grocery bags in hand.

It don't think it was the fact that I did something nice for her (friends do that) and I know the whole deal of all kindness is a lie, it was kind of just that little thing where I didn't think too much of it at the time, but now I remember it being a big deal for her, which I guess and admit, in turn did make me feel special.

Ps if you want the picture I'll share for a bribe.

We da best!

WOOT WOOT

Didn't want to put this anywhere other than the ooc forum.

We all have our demons and trials that test us in life. Often when I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.... and another rock... and then two more boulders, when I move to make one decision, the other mounds clatter or shatter... In this analogy's sense.

Usually I follow my heart, and it tends to pay off. But I look at the rubble and debris and wonder if it's worth it. Mistakes are supposed to be made. You're not supposed to go dormant in life, as not choosing is also a choice. You're choosing not to live and participate in your life. You're supposed to choose.

The tough choices are the ones that change us as people, but we always get to choose who we want to be. Not everyone will ever approve of how you live your life, not everyone will be my "bestie" and I know it. But it sucks when those closest to you don't respect your decisions, because they deliver you in a different direction than them.


Basically, how do you respond to life when it feels like there is no right choice?

Nothing is going to be 100% the right thing, I know that much, but all the directions are tugging me in fractions and I sometimes feel I'll get ripped apart, or when my future is on the line, that something worse than simply failing will happen. Something much more conclusive than a simple mistake. And I don't mean debt, but in causing others emotional pain, which will always irk me on some level.

You'll probably say "people will get over it eventually" or that mature people forgive, so they'll eventually mature and forgive, or that my family or others shouldn't make me feel this way. But that's life. People hold eternal grudges. Some things aren't forgiven.

Part Two: How do you live with your own success and still watch other people struggle after offering help to them ?

(Part two somewhat regards "when" it is acceptable to cut toxic people from your life.)

“AH SHIT! MY HEAD!” I shout, jumping to my feet. My hands zip up to my head, the feeling of it still attached to my neck reassuring. I guess I got aw... Taking a look around, I visually confirm that I'm not longer in that damned city. Yup. Definitely the Nexus. Whiter than cream cheese on an uncooked bagel and even blander. Maybe it was all just a dream? I look myself over and breathe a sigh of relief that I'm tattoo-free. So, I guess I never got my ass handed to me by Fire-Crotch, Uncle Ben, Teen Angst, etc, huh? It's reassuring to know that I'm still a bad-ass.


“Nope. Not dreaming pal. Well... you weren't. If you think you're a bad-ass, you're DEFINITELY dreaming,” comes a snarky voice from behind me. Until that moment, I'd thought I'd just been thinking to myself. Guess not. Looking over my shoulder, I spot Archer and the Furry we'd met on the island. Neither looked particularly pleased to be here. Can't blame him. I'm irritated enough to actually let that little insult slide. And, to be fair, I'm actually glad to see the guy.


“Ssterry! Buddy! Glad to ssee ya!” I pass my gaze over to the Brood-Master. “And... hey... you..?”


“I'm Batman,” he replies in a gravelly voice, setting off all my 'edge-lord' alarms.


“Yeah, that'ss great. Lissten, how you guyss do in your little sscuffless? No need to tell ya that I sslapped those three kids around like bitchess.”


The two humans share a look just before Sterling falls to the floor laughing at me. Batty, for his part, gives a stoic chuckle. When Sterling recovers himself, he says, “Yeah, no you didn't. We've already seen the videos on OmTube.”


“Uh... What Tube?”


About half an hour passes as Archer shows me some videos on his phone. One of me getting my head shot off which I hurriedly skip while Archer laughs at how zany my escape antics were. One of Archer getting literally misted, which I enjoyed thoroughly. Another of Fatman getting decapitated (also good for a laugh). We watched Enel get slapped around, and Graowr beat up a senior citizen to win the whole thing. It was weird being happy for someone else winning an event like this, but I was. And it felt kinda good. Eventually, Archer mentions that Enel had posted something on Twitter about us all meeting up for drinks. I find my phone laying near to where I woke up and check it out, along with a couple other things.


While I do so, Archer asks, “So, we going or what? Enel says he's got an open bar, and I'm not one to turn down a free drink or twelve.”


And having literally nothing better to do with my town, I shrug, “Sure. Why not? Let'ss go get plasstered again, for old timess' ssake.”

Quote:Previously on All Might: A Promise of All Might post # 5

Quote:There are bodies in the streets of Coruscant, and its getting worse every day. There is a cloud of paranoia and suspicion at every turn. The police are helpless, the criminals are tense, and families huddle in their houses in fear.

A serial killer is on the loose.

Quest stipulations: Track down and defeat the killer in Tier 5. Either turn the killer into the police for the reward 'Increased Renown among Coruscant Citizens' OR kill him to get the reward 'Increased Fear among the Coruscant Underworld'

Quote:Then that man appeared. 

Quote:Symbol Power - Tri-Fire Orbs (600 OM, Ranged Proficiency, Debuff Proficiency, Remote Control Proficiency, Area Attack): 


One of the symbol power attacks that is made possible by the possession of the Samuraizer. This creates three tennis ball sized orbs of fire but each possesses the equivalent power to a land mine when they go off. The orbs have a maximum range of a hundred feet from him before they automatically detonate. The orbs can also be remotely detonated by him with a mere thought on his part. It takes him ten seconds to paint the symbols with the Samuraizer that become these three orbs. The orbs also do 'splash' damage in that they release a torrent of flames upon being hit with anything or detonation. These flames can burn an enemy for about 8 seconds. This move requires one hand, so any moves that require both hands couldn't be used while this move is in use. In addition, this move also requires that he give it his full concentration, and so much like the Samuraizer he cannot attack or defend while writing this move. The explosion has a range of twenty-five feet from wherever the orbs happen to be located. These orbs travel at double the speed of an arrow. The power level of the Tri-Fire Orbs tapers off at the far corners of the range,  doing significantly less damage to anyone who comes in contact with the flames. This cannot be fired while moving, and is moderately draining on his stamina.

Quote:All unquoted lines: 2,406 words 13,454 characters according to wordcounter.net

There's no "reaching Omni" with this one,

And I don't have all the details hashed out yet.

Buuuuut I have a lot of secondary ideas running in my head and wanted to do a vague interest check for some more serious/ambitious and aspiring secondaries to have longterm standing in certain verses and probably even introduce a faction with certain priorities that I will leave vague for now. Primes are welcome but secondaries are more centralized.

This idea could turn into nothing but I got some cool invididual character ideas recently that I'd like to shape somewhere with people to bounce back with.

Edit/ NEW REVEAL: I'd like to start a "series" of somesort regarding Planeswalkers from Magic the Gathering.

The Planeswalkers are people who can traverse the multiverse and walk between the layers of realms. Most of them have super cool stories and I just really enjoy the concept and want to bring it to life. Sure the OV is a realm they can't leave without Omni, but it could be cool to have an organization of secondaries unite for numerous causes.

Character name: Dovahkiin, Galeth Sien

Character source: Elder Scrolls, Skyrim (Kinda OC)

Character history: Essentially the majority of Skyrim, however, he fell to Alduin and ended up in the Omniverse. This can be expanded upon if needs be.

Physical Description:
While restricted by his Bosmer blood, Galeth retains an imposing figure. Tall for his kind, standing roughly a head taller, and with limbs bound by lean muscles, he exudes an aura of physical prowess and agility, ever present is the tense grace of a predator. His skin is a dark shade of bronze, tainted by exposure to the sun and soiled by the forest. Calloused, scarred and painted in tribal tattoos, the hide of the Bosmer is far from soft. A tinge of unmistakable musk lingers around him, far from offensive, but present nonetheless.

Riddled with all sorts of odds and ends, a pair of woven braids of hair hang behind his lithe ears, the rest of his hair pulled into a short tail. Auburn in color and neglected to only the most necessary of washes, his hair tends to appear dirty and unruly, when left to hang free, at least. Relative to his kin, Galeth's features are all too similar, high cheek bones, angular features and moss green eyes, bearing a natural, slight squint. His mouth, naturally curved downward very slightly, only adds to his somewhat sombre demeanour, not necessarily of sadness, but one of deep thought, contemplation and reverence. All in all, behind the dirt, Galeth manages to retain a vaguely charming aesthetic , the beauty of the Mer not lost in his blood.

[spoiler][/spoiler]
[spoiler][/spoiler]

Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 2
SPD: 2
TEC: 3
(Stat increase - ATK 1000 OM)
Starting Proficiencies:  (2000 Spent)
Physical Strength – 1000 OM
Ranged Proficiency – 1000 OM

Starting Powers: (800 Spent)
Burst Movement - 800 OM

Starting Moves: (900 Spent)

Sword - 300 OM
A standard sword of Bosmeri make, single handed, single bladed and roughly 75cm in length, usually used in conjunction with a shield.

[spoiler][/spoiler]

Shield - 300 OM
A Bosmeri shield, crafted of wood, iron and animal hides. 80cm in diameter and generally used in conjunction with a sword.
[spoiler][/spoiler]

Bow and Arrows - 300 OM
A Bosmeri Recurve Bow, crafted of imported wood from Cyrodiil. 162cm in length, Galeth is able to fire this, as quickly as he can draw an arrow, usually at a pace of an arrow every two seconds. His arrows are stored in a quiver at his hip, containing 20 arrows.
[spoiler][/spoiler]

(4700 OM spent)

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

Where did you find us? RPGfix

So this is just a quick thought-prompt; you can respond either with a summary or with a short story.

But,

What would your Prime do if they were suddenly booted back into their homeworld, right where they left off, exactly as they are (powers, memories) in the Omniverse?


Tearen Wover

Given the context of his home multiverse, it wouldn't be hard for Tearen to basically immediately reconnect to all of his previous universe-bending power. But, I'm not sure that he would. He would spend a lot of time in isolation, thinking about what he should do and performing maybe the occasional act of grace for people in need. If his multiverse ever came under serious threat, though, he would certainly rally to the front lines, and then fade away once things had settled down.

I guess he would just mostly want to be left alone.

Kopaka

Probably get his darkness purged by his fellow Toa and proceed through his normal canon as usual. Maybe be just a tad more edgy and aloof than usual.