The ragged cloak that concealed his ceramite carapace from view fluttered around his bulk, the briny sea air billowing out the bedraggled garment, flowing through the worn holes of its hempen construction. Freshly forged of Omnillium as it was, nothing can remain pure while used in the service of Nurgle, as evidenced by the slow slide of his surroundings  into entropy. He breathed deep, a rattling breath that scarcely drew attention from the multitudinous masses before him, jaded to this oddity, Okor; reduced to nothing more but another day in the life on the fringes of the Empire’s Order.

The dying light of the sun illuminated the plaza, the burning orb slipping beneath the sapphire horizon, iridescent patterns splaying themselves across the shimmering sea. One could attest to the natural beauty of this vista, were it not for the near-parodic purgatory they were trapped in. The Chosen doubted that the sun even existed in this realm. Their jailor would hardly bother to form stellar bodies and set them in orbit, while simultaneously trapping them within an intangible cage. No, the sky was as hollow as a promise from the desiccated lips of the corpse-emperor.

The bustle of the city continued, an ever-pulsing heartbeat, a life-sustaining rhythm that Okor lacked. He remained in place, an arterial anomaly that forced the crowds to part past his plagued bulwark. Glimpses of vibrant colours and snippets of eager chatter flowed by him, an assault on his senses only made worse by the claustrophobic ceramite shell that shielded him, concealed him, trapped him. His eye darted over the teeming masses, instinctually scanning the horde for any armaments that could harm his nigh-impenetrable armour. He needed to get away, to separate himself from the swarm, knowing full well that a single cry of Alarm would bring the wrath of Coruscant down upon him.

While it would surely be expedient, there must surely be more amenable ways to locate the hacker who housed his code-born companion.

He began to move, the tattered rags that obfuscated him from recognition fluttering around his titanic form, stalking off into a darkened alleyway, attempting to dodge the attentions of the autocratic regime ruling over Costa Del Sol.

He was not entirely successful.

Kai was a stormtrooper. This was not uncommon in Costa Del Sol, by any stretch of the imagination. It was a popular profession amongst the area’s youth, the idea of serving the greater good of the Empire more appealing than the thought of serving tourists for the rest of their lives.

What was uncommon was his leg, or rather, the lack of said leg. Beneath the knee, his limb was forged of clandestine chrome, the cybernetic polished to a gleam every morning, in addition to the rest of his regulation gear. The events surrounding his loss of limb was the subject of many an evening in the bar, his dark features grinning and emerald eyes twinkling as he recounted the tale to a lucky lady, or on one very memorable occasion, three. The dangerous fugitive fighting their way through the square of Costa Del Sol, the wild shot that claimed his limb, and the return fire that burned out their eye.

What he didn’t tell them was the weeks of surgeries that had followed, prying out every last shard of shrapnel from his flesh, excising the cancer that had spread through his body during that time, the piss that stained his greaves while he laid in the plaza, wondering if anyone would ever pick him off the ground.

His dashing features set themselves into a resolute grimace, his chrome leg clanking against the cobblestone of the plaza, his visor set upon the disappearing giant, the robe fading into the shadows of the back alley. Like hell that bubonic bastard would slip away from him again.

"Objective compromised. All units are ordered to evacuate if possible."

"Negative. My men are still in there!"

"They knew the risks, Captain, don't spit on their sacrifice."

"Communications channel going silent, I'm going back for them."

"Capt-"

Hera's eyes opened behind her mask, the hexagonal pattern coming to life, along with the rest of her suit. The suit began to hum, and The Soldier felt the familiar sensation of the link between her mind and her suit being restored. The first thing to assault her senses was the blankness of her surroundings. Pivoting slightly on a heel, she swept her gaze all around her, her orange eyes coming to rest on the fountain she was currently at. As Hera stared at the names etched in the black marble, she felt a rush of memories flood her mind. Of a mysterious white figure that identified itself as Omni. She pressed a hand to the front of her mask, as if to stop the torrent of information with her bare hands, a low groan emoting from The Solider's mask, the voice modulated making it sound distorted and devoid of emotion. Sliding the hand across the glossy surface of the mask, her fingers found a divot, just at the jawline, and she applied pressure to it, releasing the helmet from its latches. Fresh air flooded her lungs, and she let it go. Shaking her hair loose, she felt the brunette hair cascading in waves down her back, stopping at the small of her back. She ran her gloved hand across the names once more. It was a memorial of some sort, dedicated to soldiers that had died. The tranquil water looked black, reflecting off the dark marble. Bowing her head, she paid her respects the the fallen soldiers, and moving her gaze outwards once more.  

"A strange new world, but things seem to work mostly the same. Wars, soldiers, power struggles." Her voice was heavy, her stunning orange eyes seeming to contain endless tears of sadness within them. Then her expression hardened, her body straightening, her height becoming more apparent. This was Captain Xerxes, the hardened battle leader that adversaries feared. Her head swiveled , focusing as they registered shapes, equal in distance from one another, dotting the landscapes' perimeter. Her eyes locking onto one, Hera replaced the helmet, sealing it shut and stretching her legs. 

Now wasn't the time to be soft. Actions spoke louder than words. She would immortalized those warriors, and make their sacrifice mean something. Nodding her head slightly, she set off at a moderate  speed, towards a new beginning.

Quietness has fell upon the streets with the people of Darkshire asleep in their homes but gets interrupted from the noisy soldiers that were filled with cheer coming back from a long night of guarding. Some were awoken by them but when they got to their windows, they were filled with comfort knowing that it was Darkshire's militia that came back in one piece. A few soldiers in the crowd were filled with songs of their victory and others were talking among themselves. Ash was active in the conversations and having a good laugh from some of their stories. For Charlotte, she remained quiet and reserved in the crowd which the soldiers know how her personality is since she has helped them out for some numerous times now.

After making their way back near the center of the city for a half an hour, they arrived at the lit tavern which stays open late sometimes. Meanwhile in the tavern, the bar sits empty with the bartender standing there in boredom leaning on the counter flipping a coin up and down from his right hand to at least keep him distracted. The front doors burst open with Ash coming in first along with the other soldiers and Charlotte. This brings a wake up call to the bartender and stops leaning on the bar behind the counter. Soon the tavern filled up with many rowdy soldiers waiting to get their drinks on for the night. Waiters and waitresses come up out of the basement from their breaks they were having due to the inactivity earlier. The staff begin rushing to grab orders and handing out drinks to the people at the bar and tables.

Ash, Charlotte, and the other soldiers that were with them sit in a round booth at a corner that was in the same room with the tables and bar. All of them sat and waited for the waitress or waiter to come around. They still continue to conversate while Charlotte brings up a chair and sits on the other side of the table due to the booth filling up. Soon after, a waitress comes by and takes their drinks. Many of them asked for regular brewed beer but Charlotte asks for whiskey instead especially the whole bottle. After the waitress takes up the orders, Ash and the soldiers went back to talking. For Ash, he starts talking about the story of him time traveling back to the middle ages and retrieving the Necronomicon.

"So, there I was in the graveyard on a gloomy dark night. I finally found the Necronomicon but there was three of them and I was like hey that wise man didn't tell there was going to be three books!" said Ash in his story which makes the soldiers crack up.

"Then I had to figure out which one is the real book and don't get me started what I had to go through. I start speaking the stupid words that their wise man told me to say before taking the book. Klaatu Varada who gives a shit if you know what I mean. After saying the words wrong, I awoken the army of darkness which made me think oh boy this is going to be a long night." continued Ash about the tale but at that part all of the men at the table start to burst in laughter except Charlotte who sat there with her hood up.

The waitress comes back with their beer in big steel mugs that had plenty foam coming out at the top and a bottle of whiskey with a shot glass. One of the soldiers that was in his late twenties raises his mug above everyone else at the booth.

"A toast to one of the best damn primes that have come across Darkshire especially Charlotte who has helped this town when times call!" cheered the soldier with such excitement.

They all say cheer with their mugs held high especially charlotte with her shot filled with alcohol then begin to drink away at their beverages.

Character name: Link (Toon form)

Character source: Super smash bros series (around the subspace embassy arc)

Character history: Toon link was fighting away from the story of the sub space embasy when he got defeated and turned into a statue that was when he saw the smiling figure

Physical Description: 

Stats:
ATK:3
DEF:3
SPD:2
TEC:3 (+1 in tec)

Starting Proficiencies:
Physical Strength (1000), Ranged profecency (1000)
Starting Powers:

Starting Moves:
Bomb (300) (requires ranged prof.) The bomb is a black bomb that takes about two seconds to pull out and once its in links Free hand the fuse starts to burn (the time it takes to blow is about 10-15 seconds) the bomb has a diameter of five to seven inches roughly, and the explosion radius is about three feet. The bomb if held for too long with blow up and stun him for roughly three seconds

Master sword(600) (requires ranged prof, physical strength prof) The master sword has two functions it can do the normal slash up and all that jazz but it can with about a second or two charge up, Link can spin around for about five seconds hitting anyone in quick succession in about 2-3 feet of him (it knocks them back a few inches if hit), Toon link can slash quite easily but can, if angry loss any training with it, and swings it with no control, If use constently it will make him fatigued. (the sword can be knocked out of his hand) (see ref. in Toon links physical description)

Triforce slash(tier one offensive super move) (600) (requires the sword in his hand) Link hits a foe with a flash of light stunning them for a few seconds he then rushes with blinding speed and quickly attacks with the master sword for about five seconds before one much slower but much stronger strike sends anyone in the attack flying for around twenty feet. It makes him quite exhausted for a while (the rest of the fight), as another debuff if he misses or gets hit while using it he becomes stunned for five seconds

Buying: Communicator (200), and Mobile Dataverse Device (100)

I have done the math and its 4800 Om spent.

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

Where did you find us? I am the little demon child (aka chara)

The studio-apartment was unfurnished, unlit, and relentlessly gray. There was a kitchenette, which was a study in brushed steel and unpolished granite. There were sanitary facilities, with tile and fixtures the color of a dead man's tongue. There was also a single bedroom, painted and carpeted by someone with a design sense that evoked all the nostalgic warmth of the inside of a bank-vault. It smelled like carpet-cleaner and ozone, and probably always would. 

This wasn't a place to live in - it was a place to hang yourself from a ceiling-fan. Or, alternatively, to think and plan with no distractions. Kelly had rented it earlier in the afternoon for the latter, less depressing purpose, and it was for that purpose which he was using it now, pacing the empty bedroom in the dark. 

The traveler was frustrated. He'd come this dismal little corner of Tier-Four in the hope of recovering some further details of his past, but the cues he was attempting to work off of, his pre-existing knowledge of Pepsi and recognition of the origin of Pepsiman's accent, had turned out to be too vague. Pepsi and the accent came from a planet called Earth - but he'd apparently been to a lot of different Earths, many of which had both Pepsi and the nation called Japan. All the associations he was able to scavenge were a contradictory jumble of images, facts, and conflicting histories. Finally, recognizing that this was a futile approach, Kelly turned his fractured mind towards more productive tasks. 

He was ahead of schedule in his plans to establish a power-base in Coruscant. Far, far ahead of schedule. Yes, he'd want to do a couple more contract jobs for other companies to more firmly establish the Alan Mayhew identity, but his VIP status with PepsiCo gave him a firm foothold in the corporate world, with a vast array of advantages and the possibility of real power down the line if things went well.   

It was time to raise the curtain on his criminal enterprises. In the long term, these might arguably be the more important of the two ventures: if his efforts to foster progress came back to bite him, there was only so much that corporations could do to protect him from the Empire before it started to cut into their profit margins - as a criminal on the other hand, Kelly could create a situation where the profits seemed dependent on his survival. 

Of course, that was contingent on him managing to successfully establish a second false identity.

I need a schematic of the city's superstructure - one that shows maintenance tunnels and emergency staircases, utility conduits, ventilation shafts.... I can't go into the smuggling game without an advantage, and if I get scanned at a checkpoint while in the wrong identity then the whole masquerade falls apart. 

So where would he get such a a schematic? It certainly wasn't the kind of information a government as paranoid as the Empire would just leave lying around, especially not with the rebel threat on the lower tiers. They would probably try and keep it off the public Dataverse. Even asking about it would be tricky. 

Hrm.

Kelly stopped pacing. He activated the Dataverse link in his wristcom, projecting a glowing window in the gloom, and ran a search for libraries and data archives in Coruscant, eliminating the ones attached to government offices, accredited universities, or anywhere above Tier-3. 

That left only one result.

Hi! Since we have the new forum skin, my name doesn't really show up well, and as per the post located in the Bossverse, it has to show up on forum background, so I was wondering if I could get my color changed to a lighter color (663366) if possible so that it can be seen again? Thank you :)

The final stretch of the year is here, but we still have some looking back to do. Time for another edition of the Accolades!

For those of you who are unaware, the Accolades involve nominating (and later, voting for) those who have outdone themselves in a particular area each month. For variety's sake, the categories for each month may be different.

You have until December 10th to nominate your choices. After that, we will proceed to the voting phase where members will vote among the two individuals with the most nominations for each category. An exception to this is if someone manages to get 5+ more nominations than the runner-up, in which case that person becomes the winner by default.

If you wish to participate, think of who stood out the most in a particular category this month and post your choice, along with a 2-3 sentence long explanation, in this thread. You are not barred from nominating your own characters/threads, nor do you have to fill out all the categories.

The winners will become this month's "Community Stars". And what benefits does this bring? Here is an explanation, courtesy of Alex:

(07-26-2016, 11:34 AM)Alex Wrote: As part of being voted as a Community Star/User of the Month (I use the terms interchangeable mainly because Community Star is less formal-sounding than User of the Month), these members gain a color (you must select this in your User CP) and access to the Community Stars R&D forum.  In the past this was my pseudo-private forum, but I changed the name so people are aware they can use it if they please.  I do a lot of brainstorming in there and pre-planning for stuff.  Stars are welcome to share their thoughts and their own ideas if they desire.  Or don't -- it's optional.

Community Stars R&D - http://omniverse-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=36 (Note this will only work if you're part of the User of the Month User Group)

Edit - Forum access is for the month following a member's selection as a Community Star, and this is irregardless of which 'accolade' you were selected for.

So for those not already involved with the Arena, I welcome you to join us in a never ending PvP/PvE Dungeons and Dragons campaign. You make your characters then pit them against others' characters in the arena! It's fun, but it's even more fun when more people are involved! Here is the link to the game, you'll need a Roll20 account.

https://app.roll20.net/join/1431533/_KkVfQ

And here's our skype group, which has mostly turned into a shitpost section.

https://join.skype.com/JrONmUnDB3Fa

Hope to see you guys there, the game takes place any time people want to fight, so there's no beginning or end. It's all in your own free time. :yay:

The pale orange light of a simulated morning sun shone brightly down on Tier-3, glinting off the gleaming, graceful towers, and raising a cool breeze along the pedestrian thoroughfares and skywalks of the bustling, futuristic city. It peered between the naked girders of a new tower's durasteel skeleton, aswarm with robotic constructors, and streamed gently through the glare-reducing window of a small, street-level bistro where Kelly MacAryn sat, reading and enjoying a slice of chocolate cake. He was washed and dressed, immaculate in a freshly-summoned suit, with his sleeves rolled up and his pinstripe jacket folded over the back of his chair. Even the gaping wound in his side was closed, healed by a judicious application of Omnilium and time, though his pressed-and-ironed white shirt hid a brutal scar that wouldn't be going away any time soon. 

In the wake of his take-down of the NukaPepsi thieves, Pepsiman had debriefed the traveler personally and immediately, barely affording him the time to heal his wounds, let alone change his clothes. As when Kelly had first taken the contract, it was a meeting in Pepsiman's spacious executive suite, conducted using very few words. After summoning Kelly a cool, refreshing Pepsi, the Chromed Cola Crusader had handed him a folder labled 'Outsourced NukaPepsi Justice: Contractor Incident Report #282', containing twenty sheets of blank paper and a pen, then waited patiently for an hour and a half while Kelly wrote out the entire process of his investigation from beginning to end. His prose was dry, and included every relevant detail, even the name of his skycab, though he omitted personal developments such as the advent of his vector-sketch overlay technique. 

After the report was finished, Pepsiman had read it through, had Kelly sign it, countersigned, and calmly closed the file. Then the PepsiCo chief executive had jumped up on the desk, put one hand on his hip, thrown a peace-sign high in the air with the other, and laughed uproariously. Following this victorious display, he'd ushered Kelly down a private hallway to the PepsiCo board-room: a spacious, well-lit, windowless meeting-space decorated in red leather, exotic ferns, and lacquered cherry-wood. There they met two serious, well-dressed old men who introduced themselves as 'Mr. Sawyer' and 'Mr. Tsuburaya'. Sawyer had shaken Kelly's hand, and Tsuburaya had favored him with a low, formal bow. Both had proven themselves to be practical men by congratulating the imposing, blood-stained, and raggedly-dressed specimen of a long-haired warrior standing in their lovely board-room on a job well done with what seemed like genuine warmth. Finally, they had presented him with a black leather brief-case. 

Inside the case, nestled in a sapphire-blue silk lining, was a PepsiCo VIP chip-ID card, with Kelly's face on it, and his alter-ego's name. Beside it had been an orientation booklet detailing the rights, responsibilities and privileges that his new status entailed. 

It was this booklet that he was reading now. Holding it one-handed, flipping a page with his thumb, he brought a morsel of cake to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

Officially, in his persona as Alan Mayhew, Kelly was now an executive of PepsiCo, but in reality the position was mostly a sinecure. He was technically on the middle tiers of high-level management, analogous to a Senior VP of Operations, but separated from the rest of the org-chart. This meant that while the traveler was considered Very Important in a vague sort of way, he had no actual management authority, a negligible salary, and couldn't tell anyone what to do. He did, however, have all the advantages to which a PepsiCo senior executive was entitled. 

Kelly's VIP status gave him broad, though not quite unlimited, access to PepsiCo facilities, and an automatic invite to all PepsiCo and PepsiCo-sponsored events. He had an account on the PepsiCo corporate intranet with the fourth-highest available level of overall access, and a subscription to the Executive Newsletter (available quarterly). He even had a modest expense account, though that wasn't nearly as exciting to him as it would have been to a Secondary. Far more important was his ability to query the PepsiCo Corporate Intelligence Database.

Access. Glorious Access. I didn't expect to make this much progress so quickly. 

There were other perks as well. As a senior executive in good standing, Kelly had the right to address the Board over legitimate concerns of corporate policy, provided he filed the appropriate paperwork, and he had the option of purchasing some quite fantastic apartments on Tier-2 that weren't available without a nod and a wink from somebody in the loop. 

Of course, all of this didn't come without strings. If Pepisman needed more of his kind of help, in order to retain his VIP status, Kelly would be required to respond. Plus, even if he didn't have any regular duties, Kelly was now a nominal employee of PepsiCo, and that meant he could be fired. He had to keep his nose relatively clean: a certain amount of skullduggery was forgivable, as he long as he made sure to protect the company, but if he did anything to bring down the wrath of the Empire then he was on his own. The traveler was allowed to continue doing contract-work, so long as none of it was for any competitors of PepsiCo's core business, but any behavior that directly harmed PepsiCo's image, property, or personnel would be grounds for a dismissal hearing - and the hearing would only be a special courtesy on account of his having shed blood for the brand.  

Kelly took another bite of cake and flagged down a waitress, a short, pretty woman in a tracksuit with bright blue skin. He ordered a glass of milk with cinnamon in it, and then went back to his reading. 

He turned the page and stopped, reading it again.

'As a special welcome for our newest and most dedicated executive, and a tacit acknowledgement of your leading role in bringing our most innovative product to market you will receive a six-month supply of NukaPepsi'?

There was an invoice on the page below, and instructions for arranging the delivery of his delicious, softly-glowing prize.

These numbers can't be right. How much soda do they think I drink? Six months times an average thirty days per month...three liters per day?! 

What the hell am I going to do with FIVE HUNDRED AND FORTY LITERS of radioactive soft-drink?

What were the principles of dark magic? As he exited the gate from the Vasty Deep the Dark King had to ask himself that question. Given his power didn't work like it was supposed to, or had in the past he needed to rediscover those principles. Rage was one of the ones he knew worked here because it powered a lot of magic that he could use. Rage was powerful, but could turn him into a mindless brute and he couldn't allow that. There was a lot of work he needed to accomplish, and losing himself to his anger wasn't going to help anything. But what other options did he have? Pride was one potential option, because pride in his accomplishments could enhance his magic. Granted he couldn't allow himself to become arrogant as that was what led to his downfall before. Lust needn't even be considered. 

Cruelty was one he couldn't use as there were too many heroic types if the Dataverse was to be believed. Jackhammers of irritation bashed around inside his skull as he trotted away from the Vasty Deep. While normally he was not the type to abandon home, he had to grow stronger. There was no shame in journeying to find yourself, journeying to discover the true form of power. Black energy crackled around his body as he journeyed without a goal in mind. Just what was power? What made up the magic of his home? Was it harmony? Was it darkness? Was it a mix of both? Was it chaos energy? If someone had asked Sombra that when he had been in Equestria, Sombra would have said darkness, but now? He wasn't entirely sure what true power was. Revan had displayed great courage, and a power of his own even without magic. 

"Where do I head from here?"