Vacation.

What did that word even mean? Mickey Mouse hadn’t even thought about sitting down and just taking a breath in what felt like years. And now he’d somehow found himself on a beach? Sipping piña coladas with his wife?

The business in Nippur had been a fool’s errand. There was no circumstance where the people of that city would ever think of either half of the Proto Mouse as a friendly agent, and Mickey had learned that all too well once Jafar had him where he wanted him. Luckily, the street boy, Aladdin, had shown up just in time with Minnie and Simba and broken him out of the dungeons of the castle.

Parting with the young thief had been bittersweet, but the royal couple and their lion bodyguard couldn’t afford any extra weight as they continued their efforts to avoid the (now many) people who wanted their blood. So Aladdin left the couple with a parting gift — a shiny lamp he’d unearthed no doubt while thieving — and disappeared into the wind, as young, mysterious characters were wont to do. And Mickey, Minnie, and Simba left the Endless Dunes for greener pastures. Or, well, bluer ones.

They had thus far gotten lucky in their travels in the Vasty Deep — it had been merely by happenstance, in fact, that they had stumbled upon a pirate ship coasting near the shores of Costa del Sol and bummed a ride on it just in time to avoid the Empire’s wrath.

Mickey and Minnie’s sojourn with the pirates did not last long. Their captain had been abducted, and the pair took comfort in being able to give them a purpose for a little while — smuggling a fugitive king and queen seemed right up their alley — but the time eventually came when the pair stumbled upon an island that seemed just uninhabited enough for their liking, and in the night they slipped off of the ship undetected.

And for the past however long, that was where they had remained. The island natives seemed nice enough and disinterested in the couple’s colorful past. No one asked questions. No one minded the fact that they were primes. No one batted an eye when they erected a small hovel of their own on the outskirts of town, completely out of omnilium.

Best of all, no one even thought to bother them. Simba kept them well taken care of, not only serving as a de facto butler but also keeping his eyes open for threats, though they had gone so long without one Mickey doubted the lion king would even know what to look for anymore. Other than him, they mostly lived in solitude. Occasionally, one of the island families would make the trek up the hill to their cottage on the cliffs to check on them. A nice gesture, and one the mice appreciated.

“We should really invite that nice girl and her sister to dinner sometime,” Minnie said, breaking the silence of their beach rendezvous for a moment.

She squeezed her husband’s hand, looking at him sitting in his own beach chair a little ways away. He peered out at the ocean over too-big sunglasses, and nodded slightly. “Okey-dokey,” he shrugged. He’d become comfortable in their hermit lifestyle; it had become clear that the best way to avoid threats in this Omniverse was to avoid basically any contact with the outside world. But this family seemed kind. “Tonight?”

Minnie giggled. “Sometime,” she smiled, and took a sip of her own piña colada. She slurped up the last little bit. “Tonight would be nice.”

“Tonight it is, then,” Mickey grinned, glancing over at her. “After all — you’re the boss.” He winked at her, which only sent her further into a fit of giggles. She slid off her chair and yanked him onto his feet, pulling him into an embrace and placing a little kiss on his mouse mouth. Mickey scrunched his brow. How in the world was he so happy?

“You don’t think she’ll bring her weird pet, do you?”

In a monumentally small amount of time spent in the Omniverse, Shay Patric Cormac, scourge of the Colonial Assassin Brotherhood, thought to himself only a few numerous weeks beforehand that it was a good time to leave Nippur and New Babylon behind. Though, Shay only soon realized how big of a mistake this was on his conscious.

The man chuckled to himself, looking around, his vision still fuzzy. Where was he again? Oh, yes.

The Deeps, as they're called. In an empty local bar located in the middle of... some island the Templar forgot the name of already. Not like it mattered to him anymore. Not since she left.

Shay looked around, the seemingly empty tavern was barren of any noise. Though the man could barely see, Shay swore he didn't see any bartenders around either. What was he thinking about again?

She. She.

Who was she, again? Shay hated asking, but...

Then he remembered, clear as day. It wasn't Hope. No, he couldn't have cared less for that, quite literally, toxic fool.

Agnès.

The Templar hated to repeat the name. He looked down, the glass in his hand half-full with cheap booze shaking at the mere mention. Why? Shay asked himself over and over, why did he feel so without purpose?

The more and more he tried to answer that question, the more regrets piled onto his shoulders. Even before he was picked clean from his own plane of existence and dropped into the Omniverse, Shay was always asking himself the same thing. Yet, even with purpose, a cause or a creed to follow, the ex-Assassin couldn't find himself an answer.

Laughing to himself once again, Shay took another sip of the absloutely rancid achohol. It was cheap, if Shay remembered correctly, and he wasn't sure exactly why he bought it in the first place. He couldn't remember a lot of things, in fact. But still, that name rang in his head like a gong.

Agnès.

The Templar felt his eyes watering knowing that the last person who truly seemed to care for him disappeared. Even the short days following, Shay tried to reassure himself that she'd come back eventually, so they could finally protect those in need. Together.

Yet, she never did.

Suddenly, Shay's temples started to strain. Couldn't handle the pressure, the man concluded ever so groggily. Taking his gloved hand to his head, Shay's mind began focusing solely on laying his head down. And so he did, drifting into another drunken sleep.

"Well looks like my vacation is turning out to be a hunting trip, just as planned" he thought to himself as he burst forward catching up with the gore covered girl, Only looking back to admire just how much of a mess she had made of the Alley. He could almost hear the screams of terror of who ever happened to stumble upon that piece of fine art. Or who knows maybe they would just shrug it off as another monster attack and go about their day. He hoped for the former, "a life where murder does not have an impact on people is not one worth living” he nodded to himself as if confirming one of his deepest beliefs.
 
Although he did not mind following behind his new acquaintance; after all the view was rather pleasing to the eye and the trail of blood her footprints left behind did make him chuckle, he decided that it would be better to walk beside her and get to know just who it was that he would be working with. Looking around before addressing her he admired how pretty this little town actually was, compared to the zombie filled swamps the shady alleyways and dark streets where a far more fitting. Then he remembered all those stories of serial killers stalking people and spilling their organs all over places like this, what would they do if they ran into a person like that? He then looked back and forth between himself and Gabriella both their outfits stained with blood "befriend them or kill them, either way I doubt it would be the outcome they expected" he chuckled at the thought drawing a funny look from his companion. 
 
Thinking about what he knew about the woman he was now following he realized that he had some rather large gaps in his knowledge , for all he knew she could be leading him into a trap just like the poor bastard before him. What he did know was that she was almost inhumanly strong, cracking a man's skull so easily, and that she had a taste for human blood. The fact that she could talk so well and seemed like a normal human confused him, maybe some kind of vampire? Too smart to be a zombie, the only ones he had met so far had either groaned at him and tried to eat his flesh, or tried to convert him to a death cult. So Zombie was ruled out given that she clearly possessed some capacity to think. Vampire it must be, he just hoped that the sun would not rise and turn her to a pile of ash, such a waste of good sadism that would be. 
 
Finally deciding to start a conversation he coughed to catch her attention from her determined walk and asked whatever questions came to mind. "So how does such a lovely maiden find herself in the business of contract killing? Did they kidnap you as a kid and teach you to love every spilled drop of blood like it was your first born? How long have you been in this world? Did the smiling child invite you here or did someone else summon you? Are you single?" Victor stuttered not meaning to ask the last question and deciding to try to bury it in even more questions “So how are lycanthropes in this world? It's not going to try to convince me on the benefits of a vegan diet is it? Also what did that moron back there do to deserve having his best friend bitten off like that? Would be good to know as I would not like to make the same mistake."  He asked all of this with a look of genuine curiosity, after all she was one of the few people who had not tried to kill him almost immediately after they had met, and her story intrigued him.

The thief gave a low yawn as they came into the room, listening to Ezzy's remark. He had already removed his mask and lowered his hood upon entering Camelot. After all, he must make his his mundane presence known in order to for his cloak and dagger style to even have an effect. His hair was ruffled, stained with a few specs of blood,  his face ashen with soot and soft red burns. He smiled at Ezzy's remark. She seemed excited to get to work on the Thieve's Guild, but he was long worn out, haven't had a good day's rest since his time in Nippur. With a few steps he passed by a late night drinker at the bar, making his way to the bartender, who always seemed to be cleaning a glass. 

"Good evening Master Demetri, back from a long day of exploration?"

"I suppose it can be called so, Ezzy and i have suffered some injury, we will be tending to ourselves upstairs, bring me up a light ale when you find yourself the time, might help me sleep a bit."

"Of course, I shall bring it up shortly."

After his quick request, Demetri turned to Ezzy, looking her up and down for a moment before speaking. "You feeling alright lass? That nick seemed to cut pretty deep."

"I'm perfectly fine, nothing that won't heal in good time, love~" She responded with a smile.

With a nod Demetri motioned towards the stairs, allowing Ezzy to make her way up them, Demetri following behind as they each claimed their own room, preparing for rest.  Demetri watched as Ezzy smoothly opened her door and stepped out of view, pausing for a moment before turning to his own room. He turned the knob and pushed the door open, the creak echoing in the hall and his mind before he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"There seemed to be something Off about the succubus on our way back. I couldn't quite place it."

"Aren't you always?"

"Of course Creator, but there was something else this time, something that wasn't there before."

"I'm sure it is nothing to worry about, we are both fatigued from the battle, surely some rest would help us all."

"If you so believe, Creator."

With that, Demetri unbuckled a few straps and pulled off his leather bracers, bent and completely singed, much like the rest of his outfit. A small patch was missing where he must have made contact with the wyrm while burying the blade into it. He tossed them to the side before tending to his chest piece, cautiously pulling it off, huffing a bit in pain as it stuck to the cloth he wore underneath, clenching his teeth a bit. IRIS began to peel herself off of her Creator and become a small floating sphere of blue particles, watching Demetri loosen his armor. It seemed that everything in this vast world was harder to kill but he, but he was glad his skill and speed were blessed in return. He pulled aside his dark garments to reveal a rather large and swollen bruise on is chest, one that hurt to the touch.

"You should not take as many risks in battle, Creator. I understand that your life is not as precious as it was before, with the ability to come back from the dead at the Fountain in the Nexus, but you should remember that it is not guaranteed."

Demetri remembered the words of the Smiling One, that his life was guaranteed so long as he maintained the being's interest. If he wanted interest and drama, then he can have it. Demetri would make sure to show off his skill at every opportunity. Perhaps one day he would find the being and find out why this whole place existed. It was still a great wonder to him, and in contrast to many who found themselves poorer and weaker than their past selves, Demetri had never been more skillful or talented.

With a groan he did wish he had tougher skin, but he soon gave a sigh and loosened his armor on his legs, letting the remaining pieces fall to the floor before he slumped over the bed, allowing his thoughts to wander and sleep to consume him. 

It wasn't much later that he opened his eyes to a large mug of ale on his bedside, a mug that was taken up in a split second as Demetri angled it upwards, sitting up on the bed, gulping it down. It seemed to wash all the ash and soot out of his mouth and leave a much better taste. Once he downed the beverage he gave a sigh and looked at IRIS, who hovered beside him, humming softly and seemingly staring at him.

"Awake already, Creator?"

"I believe so, but it almost feels as if rest doesn't hold the same relief as it did before. You mentioned that one can use omnilium in order to greatly increase recovery from wounds, correct?"

"Oh, yes, I did mention that early on. Why don't you try it?"

With a nod the thief focused on building up his omnilium, taking it into his hands before rubbing his chest through his shirt, focusing on repairing the snapped bone, along with wounded organs and skin. He felt the omnilium fill in the gaps between his wound,, mending ever so slowly but so soothingly. As he did so, he pulled off a bit in order to speak to IRIS.

"Any suggestions as to prevent me from taking damage like this? I think I am starting to get tired of my face being pounded into some type of rock."

A soft murmuring giggle could be heard from the floating AI, "Of course, I already starting working on a prototype buckler and blade for you, Creator. If you wish, we could test it out after you recover from your wounds. I also allocated some omnilium for testing my previous blast wave ability program called 'pulse'."

"I have faith in what you've done IRIS, and yes, I bleive we can find someplace to test out the abilities nearby. For now, I want to discuss some things, and tell me anything you have found recently on that possible job we discovered last time we were here..."

For a while the two spoke, until dawn had come and past and the sun peeked under their door, discussing future plans as well as strategies for battle. After realizing that his chest felt a lot better, Demetri dressed himself up in brand new leather armor and set out downstairs.

"Milk, if you please."

"Of course, which would you like?"

"Oh, whole milk of course, I am no milksop."

"So you assure me."


"Bartender, I am a big boy. I know of which drink I prefer. Now please, before I tire of this charade, may I have my drink?"

Demetri entered partway through a conversation that an early woken man had decided to take with the bartender, apparently for some milk. Such an odd drink to ask for at a tavern. Demetri waved his hand at the bartender, asking aloud.

"I thank you for the ale, by chance have you seen Miss Ezzy come down at all?"

"I have not, Master Demetri."

"Let her know that I am out and about when she wakes."

"As you wish."

With a nod Demetri glanced at the young man at the bar, raising his eyebrow a slight bit. He looked so... familiar. Demetri tried to shake it off as he walked out of the tavern, heading out of town. He and IRIS passed by numerous townspeople as they ventured out into the green fields just outside of town.

"Now IRIS, activate and show me what you have created. Impress me."

"Of course, Creator!"

She floated to his finger where she gripped onto him and flowed onto his body, again as his cybernetic, almost woven armor. Demetri focused as she stretched over his eye, showing him diagnostics and how to summon the items she now allowed him to possess. In one arm he flicked out his wrist, a sharp blade expanding and reaching out, before a chain whipped around it, grinding against it snugly and rotating to give a soft whirr. He gave it a swing,m hearing it cut the air, before deciding to try the buckler. His left arm locked in place as a cybernetic plate expanded and stretched outwards in a circle,his chains wrapping around it, giving the shielding device a rough surface. He practiced a few techniques from his old world, even testing the blade against a few trees. 

"They are very satisfying, you mentioned one other thing?"

"Yes, my pulse function, I will be able to control it for you, but all you ned to do is request it."

With her words, Demetri raised his arm and planted himself in place as he aimed at a tree, multiple plated erupting from under his leather armor to charge a blasted that shed much of the tree of its leaves, though its branches stayed sturdy, swaying from the force.  Most likely could know an enemy back a bit.

"You may also use it around your whole body, but I will warn you now, it will use much of your energy."

"Good to know, now, let us go see if Ezzy has woken up yet, yes? I want to begin on our quest to find this item of value to these scientist in the inner city."

After dissembling his weaponry, Demetri and IRIS both ventured back to the tavern, to which they still only found the man from before with the bartender. 

"Bartender, is Ezzy still not down yet."

"Well after some conversing with this man here, Master Demetri..." the bartender spoke, seeming quite concerned, the man at the bar turning to look at him. "This man is the woman you used to know as Ezzy. He now calls himself Ezrihel."

Both AI and thief froze for a moment as they processed this information.

Ezrihel simply smiled and extended his hand with a bow. "Greetings, Demetri~."

A low whisper came from IRIS.

"I apologize Creator, I was misled. The Prime is not, in fact, a succubus. Clearly he is an incubus."

Ayyyyyyyy all.

As I may or may not have said countless times in the cbox, I've had ideas as to how to better improve other people's writing on the site for quite a while already. I'm a critic at heart (in fact, before I decided I would much rather become a full-fledged novelist as I age, I thought my writing was going to be in game journalism in the review business,) and thus feel the need to assist others in their attempts at creating something truly unique by pointing out the positives and the negatives of said creation. However, I have found that a lot of what I have said about various things should be listed in a general go-to guide for writers to follow, since I like to think that a lot of what I have to say can be very useful. And thus, Sans' Silly Writing Guide 4 Future Writers was born.

Now, before we really get the ball rolling, I don't really have a format for this. I'm only really starting out on one particular subject that I feel deserves its own section. So, if this thing takes off, I'll likely just have people ask questions on various broad subjects (genres of writing, characterization, descriptions, etc.) and have it go from there if I can't do it myself.

SO, without further bullshit, here is the semi-official start to this guide, with the first section belonging to a topic that I think is severely underrated, underappreciated, and two things that I think all writers should know, first and foremost, before applying the pen to the papyrus.

#1: Tropes Are Not Bad.

No, seriously. Take any idea you can think of, and chances are, with the right amount of talent and patience, you can make it into something awesome. An RPG where you don't have to kill your enemies? That's absurd! That's something fundamental to gaming! You can't just do away with that! A book about a young boy who is part of a prophecy who learns about magic? Nah! That shit's too long and complicated for children! Ditch it! A musical about the goddamn Founding Fathers that is played by primarily non-white actors and actresses where the music is pretty much rap/hip-hop? You might as well shut down the project now; it ain't ever getting off the ground.

For the unenlightened, the creations in question are as follows: Undertale, Harry Potter, and Hamilton. All three of these have since gone on to become commercial and critical successes and have arguably helped shape the very culture we know about today. All three of these were ideas that didn't seem possible at first, but the ideas were executed to perfection, leading to their popularity.

This is the ultimate lesson that I think one can be taught. Often times, it isn't the idea that is bad, it's the execution. Sure, the idea may seem odd, but that's it. It's only the idea that seems odd. The way the creator/creators execute the idea is what makes it good. This is why cliches are a thing. They are overused, but they are overused for a reason, and using them isn't really bad (though cliches are a story for another section.) This is why games like The Last Of Us, books like The Lord of The Rings, and movies like Deadpool are such critical darlings despite their arguably tired and true plot formula. The way the plot was executed, as well as large degree of other factors in each respective creation to make up for it, helped elevate the cliches into something unique and made us, the viewers, care about it. This is why old classics are considered classics; they are no less entertaining today than they were centuries earlier even with the overusage of the cliches they originated. They are JUST, THAT, GOOD.

But, oftentimes, we as writers like to think of tropes and our general tools of the trade as strict rules we must follow. This leads me to the second most important thing to learn.

#2: When You Know The Rules, You Can Break Them.

The truth of the matter is, these "rules" are not rules. They are guidelines. Things you can rely on when you are stuck. Points to fall back on when in need. They are not as rigid as one may think. If they were, then there would be no such thing as "creative writing." It would all be stale. It would be boring. We NEED rule-breakers just as much as we need the rules in the first place. Because without rule-breakers, how would we know where our boundaries are? How would we know how far we can truly go in our collective creative genius?

Because of this, I must inform you that, for every point that I may make in this guide, understand that there is always an appropriate time and place for when to break it. If making a fragment makes something sound cooler, then add the fragment! But just understand that there are rules for a REASON, and breaking every single one you see isn't always the best option. You can't have every single sentence in your book or whatever be a damn fragment (unless you're trying to do something with that,) or else I'll just say you have bad grammar. On the contrary, if the rule-breaking has a purpose, then by all means, add it in!

As an example (and a bit of horn-tooting on my part,) take my character, Sans. I always strive for accuracy in my IC posts when I RP as him, so for its sake, I always write his dialogue like this:

"heya. i bet you saw this dialogue box in bold and  drew your eyes to it immediately, eh? i don't blame you. i didn't read the whole thing either."

Bold. Lowercase letters. Comic Sans. All of this, in both Undertale and here, shows us Sans' character. Due to Comic Sans being associated with laziness, combined with the lowercase spelling, shows us that Sans is pretty damn lazy. The way he talks further supports this as well, giving off a carefree, jolly, overall laid-back aura. Technically, every sentence in there is grammatically incorrect, but it was for a good cause: to show off character.


That's all I really have to say about that. Stay tuned!

Character name: Veldriss

Character source: Original character

Character history: Veldriss is a half Dark Elf (Dunmer), half Black Dragon, the first born of Shadow and Astrid, her parents. She is well travelled, having been to multiple areas, before returning to her own universe for a time. It was during her latest trip through a new area, where she would have died to a sword through ther chest, had Omni not summoned her to the Omniverse.

Physical Description: 
Yes, I am aware that this picture is of a canon character, but seeing as I am no good at art, it was the closest I could find that fit her looks as written. She is actually an OC though.


Stats:
ATK:5
DEF:1
SPD:1
TEC:5

Starting Proficiencies: Ranged Proficiency (1000)

Starting Powers: None, Stat Upgrade +2, (3000 OM)

Starting Moves: (900) Barrett M82A-1 (300)

This is a .50 caliber sniper rifle, semi automatic, one bullet per trigger pull,emptying the clip in 10 seconds with a ten round clip, and taking 5 seconds to switch in another clip. At 57 inches long including a 29 inch long barrel, this gun is heavy, weighing in at 30.9 pounds, and as such is a sniper weapon, not a close quarters one, as its best set-up is on a flat surface, where you do not have to hold its weight. If used free hand, it is very tiring, not to mention its heavy recoil. To balance the unwieldiness of the weapon, it has tremendous power and range, sending a 660 grain bullet downrange at 2,800 feet per second (1,900mph), at a with a effective range of slightly over a mile at 5,900 feet, with a maximum range of approximately four miles at 22,349 feet before the bullet would no longer do any damage if it hit anything. It is also extremely accurate [b]It is also equipped with a Armasight Zeus Pro 640 2-16x50mm Thermal Imaging Weapon Sight, to assist the aim of the user, magnifying the image by up to 16 times at long distances.[/b]


IMI Desert Eagle (300)

This is a .50 caliber pistol, semi automatic, one bullet per trigger pull, with a seven round clip, emptying the clip in 7 seconds, and taking 5 seconds to switch in another clip. It is 14.75 inches long, with a ten inch long barrel, ,and weighs in at 4.4 pounds. It fires a three hundred twenty five grain bullet at 1,670 feet per second (1,100mph) to an effective range of 75 feet, with a maximum range of 600 feet before the bullet would no longer do any damage if it hit something. As a pistol, it is more effective at close range, and rapidly decreases in effectiveness at anything past the initial seventy-five feet. It has standard iron sights as well.


Benelli M4 (300 OM)

This is a 12 gauge shotgun, semi automatic, one bullet per trigger pull, with an eight round internal tube magazine, ,taking eight seconds to empty the magazine, and ten seconds to switch the magazine once empty. It is 34.8 inches long, with an 18.5 inch barrel, and weighs nine pounds. It fires a 12 gauge slug of 730 grains at a velocity of 1400 feet per second (950 mph) to a maximum range of 160 feet, making this an intermediate range weapon, though deadly at short range due to the size and power of the projectile. Other types of ammunition may be used, though I am going with the slugs for this iteration of the weapons, perhaps will buy others later. It has only iron sights as well, as it is not a long range weapon.




These are straight from the wiki on the weapon.

I know that this will probably require some editing before being OK'd. Any help is appreciated


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

Where did you find us? This is Ebony's second character, for getting to 8000 om.

yo

OK, so I made this TVtropes RP called When Universes Collide (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/posts.php?dis...yg3&page=1) Please take a look. I need as much people as possible in my RP before I start!

Alright, this is a two-parter.

Firstly I'd like to put in a request for a private forum, I'd like Dawn Snow, Miranda Frost, Connor Hound, Gaige, Claptrap, Demitri Malius, and myself to have access to it.

Secondly it the rules it states that to update permissions to my base I need to make a thread in the help desk, would keeping a public list updated on my faction page work as a substitute rather than spamming the help desk everytime I need to update permissions?

So, I want to Connor to have a sword, and to be able to use it, he knows hand to hand, knives, and guns, but he wants to learn. This is mostly because of his Werewolf form, while it is strong Connor wants a weapon that he can use in both forms. So now he's looking for someone to teach him in the art of making and using the sword. You may say, "Why not use Omnimilum?", Well in Connor's mind in that's "disrespecting the art", He thinks that for something that is custom made it must be made by hand do that craft justice.

So who wants to teach?