To Sonny, it often seemed that no matter where he went, civilization was never a long way off. It’d been like so for nearly a millennium now, and even here it was no different. Stretching in front of the sun spirit were vast plains vaguely reminiscent of what most other civilizations built on. Gentle winds, born of the calm, bright day, rustled the native flora of the flatlands surrounding him, calmly waving off into the distance until the movement faded from view. Lying well beyond that, sat a mountain range, giving the impression of being deceptively close. The sun spirit knew better, however. Such a landmark could easily be weeks away, since something as tall as a mountain could be seen from absurd distances.

Nestled on and around one of the mountains in the range was an absolute beast of a city. Surrounded by walls of a nature Sonny hadn’t seen for centuries, it gave off the impression of being some sort of stronghold or capital. If this indeed was some sort of outdated kingdom, then he could assume that the off-color greenery surrounding that fortification was farmland. You needed to feed the scores of people under your rule somehow, after all.

“Hey, did we travel back in time or something?” The sun spirit’s voice spoke for him, hijacked by his other half. “First that Temple of Diana, now we’ve got fucking Neuschwanstein over there.”

“We did meet a guy with a motorbike and a soldier with a power suit,” Sonny responded, deliberately ignoring Somerled’s incorrect statements. “And those other soldiers with their weird-ass guns. Hence our lack of eye.”

“It’s an eye, it’ll grow back,” dismissed the storm spirit. Sonny was certain that if he had a body, he’d be waving it off and walking into the distance.

“Yes, but having a literal hole seared through our fucking skull is a bit on the suspicious side, don’t you think?” He punctuated his point further by tapping the inside of the wound.

“Just wear an eyepatch,” his other half suggested like it hadn’t occurred to him.

“Thanks but no.” Sonny responded, disfigured hand grabbing hold of his left sleeve and tearing it off. He stretched the fabric across his face, covering both the missing eye and the gaping wound in the center of his forehead. No matter how much he fiddled and twisted the cloth, however, the broken, numb fingers of his hand were unable to tie a knot. Each time he released the make-shift bandage, expecting it to stay in place, it just slid off, untethered. Every failure was punctuated by a giggle from his other half, which developed into a full-blown cackle at the sun spirit’s expense after the seventh attempt.

His chest heaving with laughter that wasn’t his own, Sonny’s task was only made more difficult. Annoyingly, he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at his other half’s wordless mocking, and if his voice wasn’t already being used, he too would have found himself giggling a bit. His hands fell back down to the horse’s reigns, as he gave up on that fruitless endeavour, and he waited for Somerled’s laugh to die down. He’d just have to summon a new outfit, one that could cover the wounds, and hopefully would blend in with the local populace.

Finding one that matched, of course, would be purely a guessing game without any citizens to base it off of. As it stood, if he wanted a disguise to blend into the populace with, then he’d need to get into a range where said disguise was necessary. It was a real catch twenty two here. Humans and their fickle sense of fashion...

“Just summon up some medieval french peasant-wear or something.” The storm spirit suggested, his giggling having long since faded away. “Or whenever the fuck time period that goddamn war was in. It worked well for us. Only got burned at the cross twice. Point is, even if that city is miraculously twentieth century, we’ll look homeless, not out of place.”

“The fact that we’re Japanese and not French might tip a few people off.”

“Also the fact that said Japanese-French peasant has a Celtic name and is riding a horse is gonna raise some eyebrows, but I don’t see you complaining about that.” Somerled accused.

“Hey, you picked the name!” Sonny retorted. If his other half had been corporeal, he was sure he would have been pointing fingers.

“No, we picked the name. I kept it,” the storm spirit pointed out.

“Kept it well beyond the point where it’s useful! It’s not the twelfth century anymore!” The sun spirit’s voice was somewhere between a normal tone and a shout.

“Just summon a fucking outfit already you indecisive meatloaf!” His other half all but yelled, growing tired of Sonny’s accusations. The spirit in question mumbled something about hitting a button and formed an iridescent orb of omnilium to mold a new outfit out of.

Being of a rather ragged make, the clothing he summoned took much less time than it would have otherwise. Soon, Sonny was wearing a white woolen undershirt beneath a brown leather doublet, with similarly colored long woolen trousers. His modern black loafers were replaced with simple hide boots, and he now had a large, green wool mantle draped across his shoulders, complete with hood and all. Of course, without a bandage or something to cover the gaping holes in his head, that would do precisely no good in keeping him out of public suspicion.

That would just have to do for now, however. With that in mind, he kicked a heel into the beast below him, pulling the reins to direct it towards the city looming in the distance. The soft sounds of hooves pushing off dirt drifted lazily to the sun spirit’s ears, faintly audible over the whispers of the gentle breeze stirring the grasses. Heat from the midday sun bore down on him. If he moved quickly, he should be able to reach the walls before dusk.

Welcome Hero Maker mk. III

Here you will find a Comprehensive* system for randomly generating folks of the super powered kind.


Roll 1d6 to determine number of powers, then roll 1d4 to determine if you have a weakness. A roll of 4 requires you to roll on the weakness tree. A power roll of 5 or 6 automatically requires you to roll on the weakness tree.

After determining powers and weaknesses, roll once on the Origins table to reveal the source of your powers.

These tables are not designed to be fully comprehensive of all possible powers and combinations. It is an exercise in exploring how you can tie random character elements together into a cohesive narrative.

POWERS

Any power marked with a * requires an additional roll to discern the version of that power. Any power marked with a ° automatically requires you to generate a weakness.

1. Acid
   
2. Angelic Channeling
   
3. Animal Empathy
   
4. Astral Projection
   
5. Aura Cloak*
   
6. Charged Melee*
   
7. Clairvoyance
   
8. Demonic Channeling
   
9. Durability°
   
10. Elastic Body
    
11. Energy Projection
    
12. Energy Absorption
    
13. Life Draining
    
14. Extreme Reflexes
    
15. Flight
    
16. Forcefield
    
17. Geomancy
    
18. Cryogenesis
    
19. Illusions
    
20. Incorporeal Form
    
21. Infector
    
22. Invisibility
    
23. Jumping
    
24. Lightning Control
    
25. Liquid Control
    
26. Minions*
    
27. Petrification
    
28. Plant Control
    
29. Pyrokinesis
    
30. Regeneration
    
31. Healing
    
32. Smoke/Vapor Generation
    
33. Growth
    
34. Martial Arts Master
    
35. Mechanical Command
    
36. Mental Pinnacle
    
37. Insect Control
    
38. Mind Control
    
39. Natural Weapon*
    
40. Necrotic Energy
    
41. Web/Cords
    
42. Radioactive Manipulation
    
43. Self Duplication
    
44. Extreme Agility
    
45. Shapeshifting*
    
46. Shrinking
    
47. Skeletal Shaping
    
48. Sonic Blasts
    
49. Spacial Warping°
    
50. Speed
    
51. Strength
    
52. Summoning*
    
53. Technical Genius
    
54. Telepathy°
    
55. Teleportation
    
56. Telekinesis
    
57. Time Manipulation°
    
58. Truesight
    
59. Underwater Breathing
    
60. Weather Control
    
61. Weapon Master*
    
62. Wind Control
    
63. Variable Density
    
64. Vibration Control
    
65. Visions
    
66. Venom
    

1. Fire
   
2. Ki
   
3. Electricity
   
4. Necrotic Energy
   

1. Fire
   
2. Ki
   
3. Electricity
   
4. Ice
   
5. Necrotic Energy
   

1. Animal
   
2. Demonic
   
3. Martial
   
4. Robotic
   
5. Soldiers
   
6. Thugs
   
7. Undead
   

1. Claws
   
2. Fangs
   
3. Stinger
   
4. Tail
   
5. Tentacles
   

1. Humanoid
   
2. Animals
   
3. Objects
   
4. Universal°
   

1. Axes
   
2. Long guns
   
3. Swords
   
4. Pole Arms
   
5. Archery
   
6. Knives
   
7. Handguns
   
8. Shields
   
9. Bludgeons
   
10. Chains
    

1. Bad Luck
   
2. Mineral Weakness
   
3. Weak to Fire
   
4. Mute
   
5. Self-Harming Powers
   
6. Rapid Aging
   
7. Hunted
   
8. Weak Willed
   
9. Weak to Cold
   
10. Chemical Dependence
    
11. Slowly Dwindling Power
    
12. Blind
    
13. Uncontrolled Power
    
14. Weak to Ki
    
15. Hubris
    
16. Limited Energy
    
17. Monstrous Rage
    
18. Deaf
    
19. Parasitic Need
    
20. Weak to Water
    
21. Power Item
    
22. Fugitive
    
23. Hubris
    
24. Physically Deformed
    
25. Secret Identity
    
26. Weak to Necrotic Energy
    
27. Outcast
    
28. Ravenous Metabolism
    
29. Insanity
    
30. Weak to Electricity
    
31. Plaything of the Gods
    

1. Godhood
   
2. Bestowed by Gods
   
3. Magical Rites
   
4. Stolen Technology
   
5. Intentional Science
   
6. Accidental Science
   
7. Mutation
   
8. Demonic Pact
   
9. Corporate Technology
   
10. Angelic Oath
    
11. Spiritual Enlightenment
    
12. Magical Curse
    
13. Own Technology
    
14. Supernatural Being
    
15. Intense Training
    
16. Spontaneous/Unknown
    

Never tried horror before so if someone can either shoot this down or give it a nice lift that'd be nice. Thanks and appreciation in advance.           

I have known anger. You have most likely not.

You know when you want to punch something, you’re seething, you’re ticked off beyond belief? Some douchebag on the street or another news story of terrible people doing terrible things? That’s not anger. That’s being frustrated, being upset. Not angry.
            
Anger is deeper. Anger is ancient, primal, and older than the human species.
            
Anger is a terrible force. Anger inspires war, death, suffering, unreal punishment of the soul. Anger is a waste. I have known this.
            
I have known the stinging in my knuckles, white bone feeling cool air for the first time, the grinding and crunching of my own teeth, lips pulled back and up to my ears. My eyes so terribly wide, revealing pupils shrunken to small dots. My arms, my legs, whole body lacking sensation save for the absolute and all-consuming heat. The kind of heat you get when you’re too close to a fire and the smoke’s hitting your face or it’s the middle of July and no amount of sweat can stifle the humidity.
            
I have known my brain, that calculating flesh, not my mind, to compose that gory melody, the symphony of grief.

I wonder what my little girl saw. Not a hero, not a man, not an old and wise teacher. Something else, something that’s not supposed to- no, something that should never come out.
I wonder what they said about me, with the creature that provided so much joy to so many, so much reason to postpone demise, ripped apart piece by red and pulpy piece. What did they call me?

“Monster”

“Devil.”

Animal.

That week was the smallest moment I had ever lived in. I don’t remember speaking, just hands pulling me this way and that, cold steel on my wrists and ankles. Then chill all over, the sun setting and casting long, parallel shadows into a concrete cube.

Before this kingdom of agony became my home, I never felt the pinch of the needle, I never saw the faces of those who made my body still. All I saw was a smile, red and full lips, an elegant frame and long, blonde hair. All I felt was the empty space inside me, only meat under skin. I heard laughing, joyous and full of life, echoing in my ears.

I have known anger. I pity all those who have.

1- I'm trying to think up more moves for my character and find myself having a difficult time. 

Inspire me! Post your favorite move (whether its yours or another character's) below! Only one please, or if there's a tie between your favs go right ahead! (I just don't want to be liked to an entire profile and not know what I'm supposed to see >.<)

2- third character.

It's that time of year! With the news of the spots being open, I'm thrilled to have an opportunity to make a third prime. 

The real question is, WHO?

In my opinion, the third character I will choose will be nothing like the characters I have, who are noble and brave. So this means I'll probably consider someone who is an anti-hero, or... A villain. 

That's about as far as I've gotten, but I have plenty of time to think it over. the rest of my life  

Anyway, I made this topic in case anyone had advice or input on the matter, and I kind of wanted my own place to scheme and take suggestions!

From: tmriddle@hogwarts.omni
To: gilgamesh.the.great@nippu.omni
CC: Public-Affairs@nippur.omni
Subject: Banishment and Recovery
 
My Liege,
I write this in hopes that this reaches someone who may be able to respond and that your government was not so egregiously harmed by the unlawful attack upon your soil. That said by the time this missive transverses the Dataverse my wish is that your king has already escaped from the underworld, but if not then I direct it to the next in line of rule in His absence.
 
The use of banishment in these lands has been taken to lightly as of late. It is not the last recourse but the first and lest we all fall to Diablo's clutches... we must see to it that such acts become capital punishment for the most heinous of crimes rather than that of misdemeanors or workings of our natural rights as leaders of people. For which I propose a meeting between all factions upon neutral ground, and as I'm sure you are asking yourself, 'what ground is neutral in the omniverse?', and it is then for me to say I cordially invite you and your retinue to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
 
Our hallowed halls are fortified to stand against the offenses committed against your city, for which I personally fought for when I was subjected to LAW's inane demand of 'Surrender or Die' upon my shortened visit on behalf of another. As that is neither here nor no longer there though, I wish to secure all factions to be responsible in their comporting of themselves in the proper dignity that we all hold ourselves. As you were the more recently and most greatly harmed by these atrocities I contact you first.
 
Regards,
Deputy Headmaster
T.M. Riddle

6:20am: Got baked.
6:30am: Keep forgetting I have clothes on. Keep getting surprised by the pressure on my body from them. And literally everying else around me.
6:37am: One son woke up fussy. I could not bother to stop typing this to get up.
6:38am: Realize I may be quite stoned. Keeping having to force myself to fix typoes I would do unconsciously. Log is becinubg incresingly diifucult to write.
6:39am: Too meloow to keepp having th remind myself wear buttons on keyboooard are and how to write good.
6:40am: log end. Cannot coninuet. Soorrry. Tell my family I love them.

Can someone change my name back from Biscuits McChocobo to Jams Bolero?

Also, if you are the one who is changing my name, stop.  Please.  It's not funny anymore, and is honestly making me regret my entire Biscuits Mcgee joke's mere existence.

Imperial Agent Tate Schell gazed through the one-way window. Before him was a dimly lit interrogation room with all of the stereotypical decorations, such as a table, two chairs, and plenty of empty space. Seated in one chair, with his feet kicked up, was none other than Stormtrooper Abner White. The veteran Imperial was patiently waiting for anyone to walk through the door, but he was biding his time by drinking fine Scotch and smoking a cigar. The poorly ventilated room had a resulting thick, smoky haze permeating it.
 
The sight made Schell scowl in disgust. The agent was an unassuming man, he wore a simple suit and looked completely bland, with his boring haircut and unremarkable features. He was such a plain and boring looking individual that one could easily lose him in even a small crowd. But then, that was sort of the point.
 
“You were supposed to take all alcohol and tobacco from him,” Schell told the two Stormtroopers that stood behind him, emotion absent from his voice.
 
“Uh, we did, sir,” one of the Stormtroopers admitted sheepishly. “Six times.”
 
“He’s a prime. He keeps summoning more,” the second Stormtrooper clarified.
 
Agent Schell’s only response was a soft exhale. Abner had been met by Imperials at the gate from the Nexus. Of course, word had gotten out through the Empire that he was back, and that he’d met Omni, so Tate had been part of the team sent to understand this phenomenon. The burnout captain hadn’t been too useful right away, as his file predicted. He had been brought to this secure Tier 1 facility so a more formal interrogation could take place. Agent Schell watched Abner pour a little bit more liquor in the glass on the table. He would have to accept that the ideal setting would not be created.
 
“Open it,” Schell merely said, walking towards the door. A loud buzz indicated the door unlocking, and Tate opened it and entered the room.
 
Abner looked up as the mysterious agent entered the room. He grinned, even with the cigar in his mouth. While Tate slowly approached the table, Abner just took the cigar in his hand and blew more smoke into the already foggy room. Tate set several folders down on the table and took the opposite seat.
 
“I used to get two of these, once a month,” Abner broke the silence, since the spook wasn’t talking. “All I could manage, since you guys pay so damn well. It was my little reward to myself for surviving just a bit longer.” He paused, and took another drag while maintaining his smile. “Now I don’t have to settle for cigarettes and cheap beer. High end cigars and liquor with just a little bit of focus. But I’ll do the old stuff every now and again, just for old time’s sake.”
 
Schell’s face remained stoic, even as he breathed in the second hand smoke. “You’ve had quite the ordeal, Captain White. I’m Agent Tate Schell, and I’m here to debrief you.”
 
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Abner shrugged, then gestured to a second, empty glass quizzically.
 
“We still haven’t, officially,” Schell ignored Abner’s offer of something to drink. “We need to talk about your little journey.”
 
“Look, meeting Omni was sort of a personal thing, and y’all didn’t even…” Abner began to explain, but Tate very quickly cut him off.
 
“I’m not interested in Omni.”
 
Abner paused, not remotely expecting to hear that. “What?”
 
“That’s someone else’s job. Some idealist’s. I’m more concerned about the immediate effects of what you’ve done. The things that can change. The things that matter,” Schell explained himself.
 
Abner furrowed his brow curiously, and let his feet slide off the table and to the floor. He sat up somewhat straight as he studied the agent, but did not take his hands off his cigar or glass of Scotch.
 
“We need to have a very serious discussion about your traveling companions,” Schell clarified. He was entertained that Abner was now taking him a bit more seriously, but did not let that emotion show. He remained professional.
 
“That’s pretty personal, too,” Abner shrugged as he took a sip of his drink.
 
Tate wasn’t swayed, and opened one of the folders on the table. “You sent in detailed accounts of your party for the better part of week. Adventures in a temple, fighting zombies, setting up a town. Quite the read. But then, you suddenly stopped. Why was that?”
 
“Wanted at least seven reviews per chapter, if I was going to continue my fanfic,” Abner’s sarcastic response was exactly what Tate was prepared for, so it didn’t faze him.
 
“We thought you were dead. The situation you described seemed to support such a possibility,” Tate explained. Abner set his glass down and stuck his cigar back in his mouth, then crossed his arms and leaned back. Tate carefully observed the man’s body language before continuing. “It’s amazing the level of detail you provided in your reports.”
 
“Gee, thanks. Just give me the fucking gold sticker and move on,” Abner remarked.
 
“They didn’t even know you were reporting on them, did they?” Schell pressed him a little further.
 
Abner took the cigar from his mouth again, silently letting more smoke escape from his lips.
 
Schell actually let out a short chuckle, then looked back to the file. “Anyway. We tried to fire you and you began to work like your early days. You seem to always go against the grain.”
 
“Is there a point to all of this?” Abner responded with a question of his own.
 
Agent Schell paused in contemplation for a moment. There was no being subtle and discreet with Abner, so he just dove in. “I want the rest of your summary on each member of your team. Who they are, where they come from, which ones survived,” Tate stopped for a moment to let Abner process that, before finishing his thought. “Where they went. How to defeat them.”
 
Abner didn’t answer. He knew his silence would goad Schell into continuing to talk, and he wanted the man to spill everything.
 
“Have you heard of Nippur?” Tate asked, and Abner’s response was to take yet another swig of his drink and drag from his cigar. “It’s a civilization in the Endless Dunes. Primes slaughtered each other there not long ago, on the heels of Syntex’s Dante’s Abyss and Camelot’s Colosseum Tournament. It was devastating for those who made their home there.”
 
“I feel like you might get to a point before I finish this bottle, but I’m not totally optimistic,” Abner responded in a blunt tone.
 
“Primes are uncontrollable, Abner,” Tate was blunt and straightforward, as well. “They’re dangers to all of us. And do you know who the only people capable of containing them are?” Tate slid another folder towards Abner, filled with plenty of incident reports about Primes in Coruscant, but Abner didn’t move to take it. “We are. The most decisive action against Primes has been executed by the Imperial forces of Tier One. Other cultures embrace their destructive nature, and they are rewarded with chaos and carnage. We are wise enough, and capable enough, to contain them.”
 
“Good for you guys,” Abner’s false congratulation was dripping with sarcasm.
 
“Think about it, Abner,” Tate seemed to be almost pleading. “Whatever those secondaries did to change your opinion of your home, it doesn’t change the facts. Primes are a menace to the Omniverse, and the most control we have over them is here, on Coruscant. We’re the good guys, Captain White.”
 
Abner scoffed at that notion, but brushed past it for a more important point. “What does this have to do with my team, again?”
 
“Don’t you get it?” Agent Schell shook his head. “You left as a secondary. You all did. You came back as primes. Every secondary dreams of the opportunity to be like a prime, to wield that power and that fearlessness. Now, it’s no dream. It’s a reality, and multiple primes with terrifying backgrounds have accomplished this. The story is out there, and it can be spread. If your rag tag group of misfits can find Omni…”
 
“My team of warriors and adventurers,” Abner wouldn’t let a snide comment about his extended family slide by.
 
“…then anyone can,” Schell did not comment on Abner’s assertion. “And now they’re back, and the word can be spread. Immortality has become attainable to even the most dangerous of secondaries. Do you not see the dire circumstance you’ve put us in?”
 
Abner let another long pause enter the conversation. He gave another extended exhale of smoke. Then, after the silence, he gave a short chuckle.
 
“My fault, huh?”
 
Schell again paid no attention to Abner’s sharp tongue. He had heard quite enough of it for the time being. The agent stood up and adjusted the sleeves on his suit.
 
“I’ll leave this reading material with you. Catch up on what you’ve missed. We’ll talk more about what needs to be done in a little while,” Schell said as he walked towards the door.
 
“If you guys didn’t want me to find Omni, you shouldn’t have told me to find Omni,” Abner shrugged. “Damnedest idea, I know.”
 
“It’s fortunate you did the opposite of what we expected, perhaps. It gives us an edge,” Agent Schell’s voice was starting to get on Abner’s nerves. Blissfully, the loud buzzer signaled the door unlocking, and the Imperial spook pulled it open and walked out.
 
“Hey, leave it cracked!” Abner called after him, but the door slammed shut.
 
Abner sighed as he reached through the haze and grabbed one of the folders.
 
Figured.

Character name: Android 17

Character source: DBC

Character history: A LONG TIME AGO, IN A GALAXY FAR AWAY.

Actually, yo, it was the North quadrant and on Earth? Anyway. It’s like a DBZ alternate reality where like, the planet Vegeta never got blown up. Frieza spells his named Furiza. ‘Raditzu’ could manhandle a planet. Super Saiyan 3 wasn’t a thing. Giant monkeys were common and somehow not all that ridiculed. Weird stuff.

Android 17 got separated from his twin in his youth. Did they have real parents? Probably, but the experiments didn’t really lend themselves to ensuring memory retention.

When they got separated, Android 17 went to a foster home. You token outcast/goth/1990s loner tropes ensued. Tragedy happens and our now teenage protagonist winds up working for a Corporation called… The Corporation. Shit’s mysterious. Augmented by cybernetics, he becomes a killer-for-hire. He’s really good at it. Like… super good at it. Too good. It gets to his head. He turns on his employers and things get rough.

Boy gets detained and locked away.

Earth gets invaded by some changelings. Boy gets free. Boy has amnesia. Boy becomes good guy—makes friends, makes love interest, competes in death tournaments and survival ‘games.’ Boy has children with angel girlfriend turned demigod girlfriend. Boy tries to retire. Boy gets pulled into ‘one more Earth-saving crusade.’ Boy gets dusted.

S’all good though. Happened before (for realz!). He goes back to King Kai, his old sensei. They finish training and he goes to King Kai’s boss, some bro named Grand Kai. They train. Boy buries hatchet with one of his long-running nemeses, and they become golf partners as they train to become super duper warriors.

Earth gets invaded. Our undead hero goes to help. Epic fights ensue. World-changing epic fights.

And then he’s in the Omniverse. Half-naked and drained of his powers.

Life’s a bitch.

Physical Description: (originals only)



Stats:
ATK: 3
DEF: 2
SPD: 2
TEC: 3

Starting Proficiencies (2000): Physical Strength (1000), Ranged Proficiency (1000)

Starting Powers: Master Acrobat (400), Survival (2000)

Starting Moves: Power Sword (300) – A three foot sword, given to our cybernetic protagonist by the love of his lives.

Ki Blast (300) – After a momentary charge, Seventeen can discharge a volleyball-sized orb of energy from one of his hands that hits its target and explodes. He can chain these together by alternating palms, but there’s always going to be a small delay between them. This is your standard attack that’s a little strong than a solid right hook but with the bonus of exploding. The ease of this attack allows him to do it while moving.

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

Where did you find us? XD

'Wawawawa!' was all that the strange cat/dog like creature was thinking as she flailed her legs about in the black void that she suddenly found herself in. Temmie was the name, and being a shop keeper was her game. Always wanting enough money to go to college or 'cool leg' as they say in their broken up speech. Too bad Tem couldn't speak at all currently as she'd have a few questions to ask about what was going on and where her shop went. Only to be soon met with a strange white figure.

The Temmie creature was soon thereafter taught the ways of this new Omniverse she was put into. The usage of Omnilium and the fact that she could create anything made Temmie think of all the money she needed for College and her dreams, though seeing as how she's in a world that doesn't have Tem College anymore, she quickly decided that corse of action would just not do it for her. At the least, her Temshop was something that could be brought back since it was just a creative spin from a regular cardboard box, and wouldn't take all that much to make another one with this stuff if her hunch was right. 

The mentioning of death however, made her flicker back to the time when a human came to her store and sold a knife to her. Something was off about that child, it seemed to tremble with the knife in its grasp before selling it. Perhaps something bad happened? Then again they might've just cut themselves by accident one time. Nothing more nothing less. But it means at least that now, if someone is ever super mean and wanted to kill the Tem, she'd be fine as she had this 'Omni' figure's appreciation and wanted to be kept around for now.

Snapping from the black void to a vast white landscape with a fountain similar to the one found in the Underworld and located in that big hotel in the city..... was there one such fountain? Temmie couldn't remember as she got up with shaky legs and shook her head around as her memories were hazy for some of them. But remembered seeing that Omni guy and thinking about making her Tembox again. She focused her thoughts for a bit and the Omnilium material, seeing something slowly form she smiled and unfortunately undid all of it because she lost focus. So going back to hard thinking, it took a few minutes and an exact replica of Temmie's box had appeared and she was happy as could be "Ya! Tem haz Tembox now!" she said happily before hopping in and making the bottom half open up too so then she could walk around in it for easier movement of the item. 

The only thing Temmie wondered now was: how to get back, where to make a home, and where was everybody?