So about a year ago me and a friend decided to make an rule set for an RPG. We had joked about making one based on RWBY before then, so it was a natural decision. It took a lot of late nights, constant revisions, a bit of yelling, two month long breaks, and a single week of crunch and we came out with the something we could be proud. Just yesterday me and the beta testers just finished our first season, and I have to say that it has been the most fun I've ever had as a GM

RWBY First Year
Printable Character Sheet
Lite Character Sheet (not really)

Hope anyone who's willing to look at it and play it enjoys the work we've put into it.

Name of Move: Shadow Form
Required Proficiences and Powers: Disassemble? Phase? Area Shield Proficiency? 
Cost of Move: (?) 
Description of Move: 

Channeling his dark magic into his horn,  King Sombra will engulf every piece of his body in his dark magic. This has a unique effect in that it "Turns" him into a living shadow of sorts. But in reality, he's wrapped in darkness. This may provide him protection from physical attacs, but those of an energy nature could damage him and knock him out of this. This move is made to accelerate travel as while he's in this state he can travel as fast as a bullet towards his destination. However there are limits. This cannot be used when he is right at a gate. Nor can it be used when he is in a a fight because when using this move he cannot attack or defend himself. This move takes about 20 seconds to charge up. 

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This is a move I thought up for Sombra,  I am not sure if it would work on this site or not.

Since it is clear to me my muse for Adrien Agreste has hit a brick wall and will not bounce back I have decided to make a few OCs or a couple of canons. I will allow the members of the site to vote on the OCs however, which I will describe here. These are just ideas I have had so far,  so feel free to voice your opinions on them.

-  Sirius Nova:  Sirius Nova is a Martial Artist OC who relies on an assortment of enchanted weaponry, and Ki + Elemental Powers. He's somewhat cold and would likely be one of the Rebels or a Mercenary for hire.  Sirius has a sort of tragic past, with a girlfriend who fell for a co-worker and what not although he's not from any established media of any sort. His powers are meta human in origin. Like the others, a look has not been chosen by me for him yet. 

- Veritas Night:  Veritas Solaris is an individual who is all about high tech, and the more advanced the better. He's sorta like Megamind, if anyone saw the movie but has green skin. His powers come from bionic enhancements inside of his body. His weapons are assortments of drones, high tech gadgets and vehicles. Like the others, a look has not been chosen by me for him yet. 

- Jake Ateris:  Jake Ateris is what one might call an android.  Well sorta.  His power cell is more of a magi-tech core and he's able to 'simulate' various kinds of magic. His weapon of choice is an elegant gold and black katana that he has strapped to his back. Like the others, a look has not been chosen by me for him yet. 

Canons: 

Norm the Genie:  Norm the Genie from Fairly Odd Parents. He'll still have his Genie Magic, and probably still be bound to his lamp and forced to grant wishes for whoever holds it. 

Ron Stoppable:  My version of Ron is different in that it picks up where the show leaves off.

The intensity in the need for the Lazarus pit increased on a daily basis ever since Red Hood had been separated from The God Mind. He had hoped in finding the being he could some how quell the calling of the emerald pool, but to his despair Nealapph was gone from this plane of existence after he brutally murdered himself after the great battle on Mount Doom. 

He had even attempted to recreate the pool, even with the help of the wisest wizards in Camelot, he had no success. He had since departed from his ally Thor as he started his personal quest to find the missing half. He sometimes wondered how the Asguardian was doing, reminiscing on the days they had fought together. Red could feel himself fading from this world. Being pulled back to Gotham. 

He had since come to terms with his anger with his old mentor and foster father Bruce Wayne, and felt it was time for him to allow the emerald pool's beckoning call to whisk him back.  

Red unsheathed the sword given to him by the God Mind. A crackling like chirp resounded off the blade as he saw small sparks fly off the blade. He wanted to give the blade to a worthy combatant so earlier in the week he had issued a challenge to the omniverse. Much to his surprise and pleasure many people had answered his call to battle. 

Red stood in the quite area that was the nexus, the only sound came from the fountain as the water trickled into the large basin. He was birthed into this world from this fountain and he  found it appropriate to end his time where his journey had begun. So he stood in silence, waiting for his first adversaries to arrive.

Quote:Word Limit: 1000
Posts Per Player/Rounds: 3 
Time Limit: 36 hours 
Random Elements: On 
Damage Meter: On

If you find any bugs or have any criticisms, place them all in a neat pile here so I can ignore this topic and them. Positive feedback is welcome too!

Hiro used the same speedy method of urban travel he'd experimented with in Costa, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in long, floating bounds. Sailing over the streets and business below, he got a feel for the city. Not too different from the dockside districts of Costa, but far more primitive. Everything here was built out of brick, stone, mud, or wood; arranged into stout blocky designs. No distinct architectural styles that he recognized. As he sailed through the air, he could see pokemon and other types of people going about their business, unaware of the wuxia hacker floating above their heads.

Nearing the site of the explosion, he activated his goggles scanning mode, and dropped down to the plaza. Everyone had vacated and he could see something large and glistening, curled up on it's back and smoking, the nasty smell of charred flesh wafting into the air. Next to it was a bleeding heap, which upon scanning revealed itself to be a body. Hiro rushed over to help but the man was already dead from his wounds, his skull caved in by a blunt instrument, and his body wrecked by long claw marks. 

There was a piece of tech on the man's wrist that he quickly matched to a collar on the smoking thing's neck. It took him a few seconds, but the cyber samurai realized it had been one of the unseen bioweapons employed by Coruscant, the man most likely it's handler. Something had caused the weapon to attack it's handler, who fried it in self defense, then died of his wounds. But the skull fractures...where did those come from?

Almost as if to answer his question, the door to a nearby building burst open and hurried ejected an old man. The Sage. And he was holding a walking stick with a rounded end...covered in blood. Hiro felt a hot anger rise in his chest, as he pulled out his EPD badge and held it out towards the Sage, his long, shiny katana outstretched towards the man as well.

"Still killing Imperials, Prime? Stop right there. You're under arrest by the authority of the Empire Peace Division for crimes of escaping custody, damaging the nexus gate, and murder of Imperial stormtroopers. And diplomatic agents now, too."

The hacker's goggles blazed with a blue light that hid his eyes as he waited for the Sage to respond to the charges. "Your move, Old Man."

It was perhaps the strangest feeling of all, waking up with no recollection of how he’d managed to end up in this place, let alone no recollection of where this place was. A vague memory of a one sided conversation regarding the Omniverse and a material known as Omnilium, but little else, left him perplexed, an ever present yet half formed question lingering on his tongue. 

The Shinobi found himself alone in a blank expanse, surrounded by very little else than pure white scenery. Mitsuki turned a full circle, taking it the blinding white tedium. He glanced up at the nonexistent sky, with a sigh, no sun meant he would be unable to tell what time of day it was, no sign of any emerging weather patterns, nothing. Naught to disturb the eery peace but the slow trickle of sand on glass, echoing from the hourglass that stood dead centre of the landscape. 

Huge. The only word that sprang to the ninja's mind to describe the monolith of an hourglass. Though the sand trickled downward, it didn’t appear to be filling the bottom section, nor emptying the top. An infinite cycle, judging by the look of it. Surrounding the hourglass, the pure white landscape gave way to a circle of red bricks, apparently lain into the ground, intertwined with the greenest grass. The boy mused inwardly, was this what he made of the Omniverse, his own projection onto the landscape, or simply the way things were? He muttered to himself as he took another gander around. 

A more worrying thought jarred his inner monologue and as if by instinct, his hand jolted towards his hip. Mitsuki breathed a sigh of relief as his palm came into contact with a bulky pouch strapped to his thigh. He reached into the pouch and coiled his finger around the loop of one of his Kunai, apparently feeling a little more at ease with some form of weaponry with him. 

Next came a jutsu, one passed down from his “father”. A pair of instinctive hand seals and the uttered phrase “Sen’ei Jashu!” and a pair of snakes heads emerged from his sleeve, followed quickly by their slender bodies, tails remaining coiled around his wrist. The Shinobi nodded, satisfied and the snakes shrank from whence they had came. 

“That should be enough,” Mitsuki spoke aloud to the blank expanse and set himself down beside the Hourglass, glancing around the Nexus timidly, “But where do I go from here..”

His eyes flickered open, static briefly clouding his vision before it cleared away, revealing the blank expanse of the Nexus stretching away before him. The soldier navi could feel the tension still in his systems, the already-fading memory of what felt exactly like humans would describe a horrible dream still gnawing at his thoughts. It was unsettling, especially for all the details he couldn't quite recall. But more than anything, he was just...tired. He felt in need of some serious rest, more than anything, after everything he'd just went through before re-awakening in the nexus. He wasn't reading any serious damage on his sensors, and internal scans revealed everything was operating more or less at full efficiency.

It was just...a very human feeling, he supposed. The stress of it all was getting to him. Constant activity and the like, normally mitigated by downtime between bursts of intense combat and mission-related objectives in his operator's PET, was taking its toll. It wasn't anything major to worry about, and wouldn't impair his functions any in the short term, but he would need to find an opportunity for some downtime and a bit of rest sometime soon. Allow for some time for everything that had happened to be thoroughly analyzed and broken down for proper storage, so that it wouldn't be forgotten.

For now, though, he would busy himself with a more thorough diagnostic scan to make completely sure nothing was wrong, and go about the tedious process of re-summoning the items that he had lost during his death. The PET came first, restored to his hand in a matter of minutes, and after its startup diagnostic it was clipped to his belt in its usual place. Next came the odd little relic he'd found during his time in Dante's Abyss, the...what was it called, again? Pip-Boy, or something else appropriately absurd like that? Regardless of whatever it was, it was useful, and it was something he already knew how it worked, more or less. And with it back in its place, strapped to his wrist, he dropped his arm to his side, finally turning his attention outward, to the nexus as a whole.

Now came the question of just what he was to do.

Hello dudes and duddets. 


I apologize for being MIA all these months and that will probably be an indefinite thing after this. I plan on leaving Omniverse. Although its been fun, life has gotten too hectic for me too continue this. I would on other circumstances just leave but it has come to my attention that im still in possession of a quite powerful artrfact. The sword of kungsai (or however that's spelled).

S in the in the interest of not wanting the artefact to go up into the abyss and have to be quested for once again I offer a challenge. 


I wish to go out in one last fight. Winner takes the sword. So with the approval of a staff member and the Willing participant(s) i say we fight for it. I'll be moving into the nexus apon seeing that the aggreed parties are interested.

Yellowed fangs ground together as antiquated armour pounded against the faded floor of the Nexus, the echoing impact of each step the only sound in this realm of nothingness. In a land of infinite power and far too many fools to wield it, the fact that this void served as the centerpiece of The Smiling One’s prison was maddening.

Without anything to navigate by, time blended together. Each step became twelve, all while the horizon never seemed to come any closer. Syphilitic synapses screamed for oxygen, their protests drowned out by the parasitic host feasting upon his ever-regenerating nervous system.

And yet still, he marched. Some shard of sanity sequestered within his psyche spread seditious whispers into his mind, reminding the rotten ravager that it was all too easy to simply stop. To fall, and never rise again, allowing himself to disperse and decompose, a final release from this torturous hell he found himself in.

But death and life alike had relinquished their hold on his blessed self, the perpetual limbo of his existence still sustaining him in this sisyphean nightmare.

Words from the past echoed through his ossified skull, one of the few souvenirs of his first voyage into Dante’s Abyss. When the Legions still marched alongside each other, when the sacred call to war burned in their blood hotter than it ever had before. His vitae boiled over as he remembered his final words, his defiance of defeat.

I am not finished.

He quickened his pace, scintillating streams of Omnillium flowing over his scarred plate as he breathed in the potent mixture of plague and power. There were still worlds left to burn. Sinners and Saints alike to scour from this sphere of suffering.

There were still relics to reclaim.

His wargear was silent, the familiar hum and hiss of the malevolent machine spirit that crawled across the corroded circuitry curiously absent. Silence reigned within his prison of steel, his laboured breaths eternally echoing off of his atomics-fuelled armour.

For the first time in Millennia, Okor was entirely alone, abandoned in this atrophy-free abyss. He could feel the ferric weight of his warplate pressing down on him, acutely aware of the three hundred kilograms of ceramite concealing him from the world. Hearts hammered as he ventured forward.

Hiro. The cybernetic samurai that had shed blood alongside him. They had salvaged the spirit, allowed it into their arcane technology. Stolen it from its rightful place.

A susurrus of near-silent whispers arose, patterns in the perpetual hum of his power pack indiscernible to those who were not as touched by the Gods as Okor. The carcasses of suns burned behind him, split atoms sending him forward.

He needed to find Hiro. He needed to think, a rare luxury he could afford now that he was bereft of the belligerent mind sharing the armour melded to his festering flesh. The all-too-familiar nothingness of the Nexus was entirely devoid of targets for him to sate his bloodlust upon, allowing him to push the eternal hunger to the back of his malformed mind.

They would have aligned themselves with Coruscant. That much was obvious. Their prattle of justice and accursed Order, their wargear, and the sum the sycophants of whatever Emperor ruled over this damned dimension, made that clear. The price on his head made them a challenge worth attempting, a test of his skills against the warped whims of their demented demiurge.

He crushed a rusted helmet beneath his stride, the flotsam from some forgotten battle being returned to the same abyss of ignominy from which its unfortunate user sprung from. How many pawns had been sacrificed to lay claim to this featureless plane of existence?

He did not need to even ponder that question. Enough blood had been spilled on this land to sate the thirst of a thousand Daemons, and he had shed his fair share of it.

But the hacker’s home was hardly the no-man’s land of the Nexus. Coruscant was a seething hive of Stormtroopers, every inch of the Imperial city under the vigilant gaze of the Emperor’s second-finest. While his blessed self could undoubtedly carve a bloody path through the Empire’s defenses, it would be a route that left little possibility for an amicable audience with the reprogrammed Ronin.

But infection does not take root in the heart. It slithers in through scratches and scrapes, carried along into the body before it has the chance to realize its error. Even in this land of plenty, trade served as the lifeblood of any nation. Before much of the civilian populace had fled in terror during his prior visit to the city, airborne craft soared through the gates between the shining city and the shimmering sea. One of those would suffice to carry him into Coruscant.

Desiccated lips pulled back to reveal tarnished fangs, a stained and scorched cloak flowing forth from the rot coating him, Omnillium shielding his diseased bulk from sight, cracked ceramite and corruption concealed from view.

The twisted trees that marked the entrance to the Vastly Deeps rose before him, the Omnillium stretched between the arboreal architecture shimmering and rippling, like a pool of iridescent mercury. Out of habit, useless lungs imbibed one last breath before passing through, leaving behind the nothingness in favour of the fetid atmosphere of the Deeps.