The world of Coruscant was a place that made Jack's eyes widen, when he first came through the gate from the Nexus into the place they called "Tier 1" as it were. For the place was something out of science fiction. Hover cars, armored troopers, blaster rifles and many other things that made the Cybertronians look primitive by comparison. If he had even a fraction of this tech in the fight where he had lost his hands, his survival would have been a lot easier than it had been. Of course, if he had any of the tech here Jack knew he couldn't win, still. For he didn't know how to use the technology of this place. The email Moon Knight had sent back had been somewhat informative. While he would not be joining the Avengers, he could see himself working with them. Putting a Green Lantern Corps together would be a full time project, in and of itself. Obviously, due to that, and his plans for revenge on the Sinestro Corps for removing his hands, he couldn't see himself affiliating with the Avengers, at all. 

His hands were something he had treasured before they had been viciously severed. Honestly, he'd be lying, if he said it hadn't shook him up some. His willpower was not on par with that woman's mastery of fear, or swordsmanship skills. Combat skills were something he didn't think he had needed, in the past. Now, though, he had no choice. Survival in this place meant that Jack needed preparation for the coming war he planned against the Sinestro Corps. 

A war required weapons. She had said a power ring was one of the most powerful weapons around. So all he had to do was recreate the Oan Power Ring - but no. He was not going to recreate that Power Ring for himself. What he needed was something more stable than the Oan Power Ring had been. A weapon that he could easily learn how to control, so that he could use it properly and take down the Sinestro Corps. Obviously before he could take on the Sinestro Corps, he was going to need to put an organization of his own together. Since she had said that his Green Light of Will was weak, Jack thought of something. What if he wielded more than one light, more than one color? It could be potentially enough to ensure his victory. 

When one of the Storm Troopers began scanning him, Jack didn't put up a fight. It was best to not cause offense with any of the natives of the place when he was crippled. After all, he didn't know nearly enough about the Omniverse in order to recreate what he had lost. It hadn't just been his hands that she had taken from him. She had also crippled his spirit, and Jack knew he couldn't wield the Oan Ring, even if he were to recreate it yet. Once he had regained his drive to be a hero, Jack would make something more powerful than the ring for himself. 

"How did you lose your hands?" asked the Storm Trooper. 

"A fight with a crazed woman who wielded two swords, and stole one of my possessions."  said Jack. 

"Oh." said the Storm Trooper. This would need to be reported to his higher ups, so they could ensure Jack didn't bring any sort of trouble to Coruscant because of that. But for now, he'd let Jack alone, and to his own devices. "Welcome to Tier One of Coruscant, home to the Empire." 

Jack started walking in a random direction, not really caring where he was going at this point. For he had no plan, and no strategy other than getting his hands back. Should he get his limbs back, he might be able to make the Forge of Solus Prime. Moon Knight had informed him that Omnilium could be used to create specific items. If that were true, and he was able to recreate the Key to Vector Sigma, and the Forge of Solus Prime, he could create more equipment for himself. Alternatively he could buy whatever he needed with Omnilium, as it seemed to be a currency here.

Quote:The waves crashed against the distant shoreline, like rippled glass drawn across white silk. Somewhere a bullfrog croaked dolefully in the late afternoon sun, contemplating the opening strains of the evening's song. Nesheika walked up the plank-paved road from the stream with a fresh basin of water. It sloshed patiently within its vessel, artfully balanced on the veiled crown of the islander's head. The basin was a wide, terra cotta vase. Handcrafted, obviously, and scratched with decades of use.

Perhaps this village had a name. Maybe even the miniscule atoll that the village inhabited might have a designation in some rarely accessed Imperial shipping register. For all intents and purposes, however, the inhabitants of either simply had to call their home The Island, or The Village in order to know that it was home. On the matter of Imperial shipping, The Island never really saw any in a meaningful sense of the word. Oh, certainly, they could literally see the high-masted freighters cruising across the blue horizon, but they never served as more than a moment's distraction from the quiet bustle of the bucolic lifestyle.

As Nesheika reached her destination, a sudden cry of agony split the tranquility apart. It was long, drawn, and hoarse, and it was also accompanied by a string of obscenities that the young sand maiden could only fathom the meaning of.

"For all that is fucking holy will you sopping cuntwads just yank this fatherfucking bitch outta me already?!"

Nesheika's eyebrows bobbed upwards in a momentary, dull, look of surprise before dutifully pulling the beaded curtain back. The inside of the thatched, driftwood laden bungalo was warm, dim, and scented with the equally heady aromas of coconut and human effluence. Makeshift mannequins adorned the walls, along with bobbins of thread and skeins of yarn in more colors than can be responsibly listed here. Another teeth-grinding shriek issued out from behind a carved, teak partition. The scream was cut short by the soothing encouragement of Nesheika's mother and erstwhile instructor in the art of midwifery.

"Breath-breath-breath, deeeeep now." Assul said softly, mopping the sweat from her patient's forehead with an already soggy rag. No matter how many times Nesheika saw the woman currently writhing in her bed, Myla Wover would always be a fascinating oddity to the otherwise sheltered islander. Skin as pale as the coral sand, with tiny hornlets as dark as stained ebony...hair the color of the last mauve glints of sunset, and her eyes...orange and fierce. Candles in the night. Yes, it certainly had taken the villagers to get used to their newest member, but when the Angels had told them to take good care of the strange woman, they had no reason to refuse. Besides, despite her outwards appearance, Myla was still a normal woman in all the ways that mattered to the island's head medicine woman. Assul looked up, suddenly noticing her daughter's presence.

"Thank you, Neshy..." the midwife said, using her daughter's pet name, "...put it over on the stove, please, and bring the other."

Nesheika nodded softly and did as she was instructed, setting the warmed pot of water next to her mother. Assul dipped the cloth into the water and used it to clean up Myla's blood-crusted particulars. She tutted softly as she did so.

"We just might have to, k'ou aloha...but I'm afraid she's having trouble, comin' out kickin' first like she is. We'a have to cut the uh..." Assul said, scrunching up her face as she tried to remember the English word for perineum.

"Cut the what?!" Myla bitched, leaning up slightly before letting out a defeated groan. Her vaginal muscles clenched fruitlessly on the child half-way born. Everyone was exhausted. They'd been at this for almost twelve hours now, and to her credit, Myla's baby was still hanging to life. Assul's lack of a direct answer, but very apparent possession of a scalpel caused Myla's entire body to tense. The aging medicine woman nodded at Nesheika and then towards he bag, yapping something in the native tongue that the ex-succubus was still trying to learn. The younger attendant rummaged for a moment before producing a small, long tiki made of hardwood.

"For bite." Nesheika said softly, before cramming it Myla's mouth and imperiously grabbing Myla's sweaty forearms. The demoness's eyes went wild with panic, while she inwardly marveled at how such a delicate young lady could have a grip stronger than some of the road warriors she'd known in the Underverse. A strangled, gurgling scream tried to vibrate passed the tiki clutched in her teeth as a sudden eruption of white pain bloomed from her genitals. Myla's entire body contorted in confusion at the sequence of events, and the world spinned sickeningly. Nesheika lovingly cradled Myla's head as she dry heaved pointlessly off the side of her pillow, having already evacuated the last her stomach contents a few hours prior. She wanted to stop screaming, really, but the utter, unrelenting tedium and indignity of the entire birthing process was beginning to crack the last vestiges of sanity the demoness possessed.

When she was finally done with her hysterics, more due to exhaustion than adaptation to the howling pain, she weakly fixed her gaze out the open window towards the billowing palm leaves and sinfully blue sky beyond. Myla just focused on breathing for now, as he hearing gradually returned. Nesheika was no longer at her side. She could hear the two women speaking in hushed tones from the foot of the bed, and the intermittent clicking of medical implements. Myla swallowed dryly.

"Assul..." she murmured in a scratchy, distant tone. There was no immediate response. Myla's eyes drooped shut for a moment, and maybe some time passed. Maybe not. She couldn't tell.

"Assul...!" Myla tried again, still to no avail. A rising tension began to emerge in her throat. With great effort, she turned her head down to stare at the two women. Blood covered almost the entire lower half of her body, at least based on what she could see over her extended abdomen. A pale, yellow coil of flesh trailed over the foot of the bed, where Assul and Nesheika's heads bobbed up and down. More hushed murmurs came to her ears as the ringing in them subsided.

"Ladies...? What's going on? Talk to me."


"Is she okay?"



"Assul?! Wh-what's going on!?"

The nexus fountain glowed with a very, very, very bright white light.

For hours the fountain sputtered, looking more like a flickering white fire than water.

The stormtroopers at the gates to Coruscant were nervous.

“It’s taking for fucking ever,” one of them remarked intelligently.

“I know, right?” the other one added usefully.

The fountain glowed, but still no Prime appeared.

***

Within the fountain, the spirit of Harry Potter burned, but the form did not appear.

***

To: Moon Knight@Avengers.net
From: J.D.@Iwillbecome a hero
Subject: Avengers

While I could not see myself working ON your team, I would be willing to work WITH your team, if I am ever in Coruscant or in an area where there is a mission you need done. The reason is that I am recovering from an injury that was given me by a psychotic secondary who used two swords, and amputated both of my hands. I've tried to regrow them, but it's just not working. I'll have to replace them with mechanical ones, sadly enough.

To any and all people of the Omniverse.

To some, you may know that we already exist and as well have already read the previous message from the Vision stating that there was an Avengers initiative in the creation. To others who may not have, we are a team, an amalgam coalition of some of the Multiverse's many heroes working together to defend and protect justice and avenge the innocent who have fallen from an evil or wrongdoing. To put it simply we are what some call the good guys--vigilantes. 

In the spirit of honesty this message, I am here to say that to all of you we are still looking for more members. We are searching for new heroes that share our vision for forwarding progress and a more heroic age. An age where there is a better Omniverse where peace is present, that truth, justice, and everyone is served to its best fairly. 

In conclusion, I have added my Communicator ID and as well the Vision's at the bottom of this message. If you truly wish to join we're located in the fourth tier of Coruscant. If you have any questions contact me or the Vision.   

I look forward to anyone all joining. 

-Moon Knight

The mighty Dragun roared, its red skin tinted a steel gray. The Hunter whipped out her revolver, each of her shots bouncing harmlessly of the beast’s impenetrable skin. With a mighty flap of it’s wings, hundreds of bullets began to rain down from the sky.


“Junior!” The Hunter cried out, reaching for her trusty pet Corgi. She rolled towards her dumb dog who was just standing like everything was okay. Managing sto sweep the dog into her arms, she clutched him to her chest as she made an effort to evade the torrent of bullets. Each of the bright red projectiles barely passed her by as she rolled underneath them, however the onslaught never stopped. A few of the massive bullets pierced her side and shoulder, cutting through her cloak. With a few tears in her eyes, she looked down at Junior, who was smiling and wagging his tail at her.


“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you buddy.” She whispered as she choked back tears.


However, the bullet storm suddenly stopped. The mighty Dragun had begun to pant heavily and from it’s chest cavity, a bullet shaped heart sprung out. Not letting her tears and emotions getting the best of her, she quickly commanded Junior to get down. Reaching from behind her, she pulled out her crossbow and quickly placed an arrow inside. Aiming down the sights she realized the beast had caught its breath. The heart had began to slowly retract into the chest cavity but she knew that she could not survive another barrage of bullets. She exhaled as she pulled the trigger of her crossbow, letting the bolt fly across the room and stay true, piercing the mighty Dragun’s heart.


It growled in pain, the bolt had left a fist sized hole in its chest. Letting out a final roar, the beast’s own head became to heavy for it to carry and it collapsed, defeated onto the ground. Her heart raced.


“Come on boy, Let’s go Junior!” She yelled as she ran, using the Dragun’s backbone as a bridge to the other side of the chasm. The heat from the lava below torched the her feet, but she didn’t care. She had the bullet that could kill the past and she was about to reach the gun. She ran as fast as she could, ignore the decorative treasures that lay at the end of the Gungeon and rushing through the waterfall of bullet casings. She felt suspended as she went through a portal, falling onto giant revolvers that floated in the sky. Jumping over each and every one she saw the tomb of the Gun That Can Kill the Past. Rushing past all of the wonders of this place, she managed to reach the chest. Her hands were clammy and fumbled around, trying to get a good grip. Finally managing to get a hold of the metal, she forced it open, releasing a bright white light.

Quote:“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”


Omni hands you a glimmering orb in which all the colors of the rainbow coalesce. “This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most.


“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.


“That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”

[Semi-Open: Please message me if you'd like to play with me in Carrefore! I'm interested character interactions that will teach Talos about the world, especially mentoring or working together to bamboozle Stormtroopers.]

Carrefore felt like Morocco as written by Frank Herbert.

Talos spent her first fifteen minutes in the town evading the plainclothes agents from the Stormtrooper tower that had tailed her into the city. It is very hard to follow someone whose face and clothes change every time they turn a corner. The simplicity of evading them was refreshing, and left Talos feeling a little more equal to the world she found herself in.

Once she'd doffed her pursuers, she settled on a mask of a middle aged women in a navy djellaba with curious chrome embroidery--something she'd copied whole-cloth (pun intended) off of a woman near the gate. Talos didn't know enough about local culture to risk embellishing clothing yet.

When in a new and possibly dangerous city, her policy was always to look like someone not affluent enough to be worth robbing, but not poor enough to attract the hassle and abuse that beggars suffered. She also tended to become female. It was slightly more dangerous, for reprehensible reasons, but tended to put people at ease and make them more talkative. Gender stereotypes were tools that Talos enjoyed employing to her advantage, before playing rugby with people's assumptions.

It was night, but the streets were still active enough to give her a comfortable screen of humanity. The last North African city she'd visited had been Marrakech, and this place was reminiscent, but distinct in strange ways. There were street vendors, but in addition to clothes and food, people sold bits of magic and technological baubles, and there were mats displaying swords and guns laid out right next to the mats selling Tupperware and undershirts. People wore sidearms openly, some conventional some bogglingly futuristic. It all created the unnerving impression that violence was expected at any moment.

Talos sold her binoculars to a junk merchant who was packing up and examined the money. She surreptitiously forged more with magic while sitting next to a fountain, and set about haggling and gossiping with the remaining vendors.

She learned a number of words: Prime. Secondary. Coruscant. Psycho Raider. This last one she learned from a child who accompanied it with a lively puppet show that involved a bloody hockey mask.

Talos gave the child money to go away. She continued to explore, hunting for patches of activity as most of the city shut down for the night.

So, does the OV have the same stars in the sky at night? Do they follow a pattern?

Name: Little Rose

Spent OM: 6200
Consumed OM:

Proficiencies (3000): Physical Strength (1000), Ranged (1000), Debuff (1000)
Powers (2000/8000): Survival (2000)
Moves (1200): Toxico (600), Cero (600)
Super Moves (0):
Transformations (0):
Assists (0):
Items:
Artefacts:
Bases:
Unlocks (0):

Base Stats:
ATK: 4
DEF: 5
SPD: 1
TEC: 0

He was planning on this for a while but other things have screwed up his judgement as of late the demon wanted revenge. Tyson thought long and hard about this thinking the human race needed to die well some of them maybe half of the population in the Omniverse. 

Maybe that will calm his rage finally once this was achieved his evil soul can finally get some closure for his human past life putting it to rest. The plan was thought of but now it needed a good name that the demon could finally get started "The Hellraiser Elimination Plan" sounded pretty good enough but who should the demon start with. Camelot was fill with fresh new prey and the demon thought about it wondering who would really for this someone with good intentions or someone that was purely evil that had to die. 

So many decisions yet so little time then the demon may get his answer a bunch of robbers we're coming back from killing a man even burning down his house. Tyson wonders if this is where his demon plan should they seemed to have such evil intent within them but the demon may have to flip a coin to see if he kills the bastards. He overheard someone about the robbery gone wrong and an entire family was still within the house while it was burning something else about money being involved. This was horrible they didn't even stop and think first robbing first and burning people later which is why they'll be the first people placed his elimination plan. He calmly lowers his head hoping the family they killed find peace because they sure won't as the robbers we're arguing with each other. It was good too the demon could just kill them all and that's it no way they'll need to suffer more violently for it to gore filled bloodbath. One of the robbers was arguing again with his teammates about the botched job trying to get their stories straight so no one finds out about this, Tyson knew though.

"I didn't want this to happen, We didn't have to kill the old man and his woman like that. You and Joey decide to burn the house down????" Robber said.

"Hey we couldn't leave any witnesses....The local authorities won't know what happen anyway. We're free in the clear. Chill we're safe" Robber #4

"I could still hear that old woman screaming....Why did you have to do that?" Robber #2 said.

"Just business, It's the way I like doing things" Robber #4 said.

"Calm down everybody the shit is over it's tragic but we got away just not that family. We screwed up and poor old ass family got hurt end of discussion" Robber #5

"We'll have to deal with the consequences of our actions...Soon Enough but not today" Robber #3 said.

"I like that way of thinking right there consequences. Right there was perfect all of you will be just perfect for the beginning of my elimination plan just eliminating you vile beasts off the face of the Omniverse. How dare you hurt the innocent like that judgement is at hand. Luckily, I'm the executioner and if we all meet in Hell your suffering will the first thing on my list". Tyson yelled.

The demon attacked viciously slaughtering the robbers just hearing them trying to escape was music to his ears. Death was their punishment attacking with full and demonic rage striking the killers with his sword cutting them apart piece by bloody piece. Blood was being smear onto the walls leaving nothing but carnage in the demon's revenge plan. Slaughtering evil in it's tracks help him out a lot killing about four of the robbers still the elimination plan wasn't complete though leaving one of them alive. But however it would send a loud message to everyone else watching to helpless robber crying for mercy where was this when his friends harmed an elderly couple. Not realizing for every action the demon was going make a blood reaction to their evil, Tyson grabbed the broken robber from the ground. The demon started torturing the robber some more before stopping allowing the bastard to crawl out to abandon house leaving a blood trail. Tyson thought this was just the beginning to make criminals beg for mercy and killing the unjust and evil parties for wrong doing almost like a dark vigilante taking some good vengeance on people. Still, Tyson's elimination plan has a long fucking way to go before it was finally completed then he'll rest finally. 

"Run, Parasite or crawl if you must tell you human race something has come into their world. Someone deadly hunting and killing people purely of evil you humans destroyed everything I cared about. How does it feel when I take your existence away from you all? Tell them to act more properly. Yet tell them quickly while you're still alive and not dying just yet" Tyson said calmly.

Tyson started walking away from the scene heading off near some mountains....

The wounded robber was crawling and bleeding badly until some local villagers we're coming back from a tavern. They notice a bleeding person and they started yelling for help they wanted to know who did this. They bring in the wounded guy into the tavern but the man was dying they slowly tried treating his wounds. A head nurse started operating but they couldn't stop the bleeding. 

"Demon......A demon stopped us.....Killed my comrades....all dead. Just because we hurt and murdered and elderly couple.....A demon created by Satan stopped us.......Something about human elimination plan.........Help" Robber said.

"Omigod, I can't stop the bleeding his wounds are too damn severe.....WHO DID THIS TO HIM" Nurse said.

"Someone got this guy good??? His buddies must have hurt some old folks and this demon.....attacked them. I never heard of a demon of vengeance" Villager said.