Greetings Dataverse. I am... Smith. I come to you with a request. I have recently taken part in a Mr. Teucer's request for assistance. He asked that myself and some others gather relics for him, so that he may be free from his prison. I attempted to help this poor soul in his quest, but... things did not go as planned. The relics were guarded by mighty beings, and to defeat one I had been forced into an alliance with some others who were there to help Mr. Teucer. We prevailed over the beast... but then things went disastrously awry.

Those whom I had allied myself with turned upon me at the earliest opportunity. They attacked and destroyed me. And for what? For the relic I had managed to wrest from the beast I had fought and that of another companion. So fixated were they on the reward Mr. Teucer had promised, that the lives of those they fought with were nothing to them. I had trusted these men and that woman with my life and had been made painfully aware of the price of that trust.

My attackers are known as:

Sasuke Uchiha. This man won the Dante's Abyss event and possesses items of no small power for his prowess. He led the group who ended my life.

Victor Wolfe: This man also participated in Dante's Abyss, during which time he showed his traitorous ways by Banishing a woman named Violet. He initiated the attack upon me.

Orihime Inoue: This woman is relatively unknown to me, aside from the small gleaning I've managed to gather from the Dataverse media outlets. Still, she was wielding the knife that drove into my chest, effectively being my killer.

I have reason to believe that the Colonel was deceived into helping them to defeat me, in order to gain the relic he had in his possession as well. However, I can not be certain that this is the case until I have spoken with him. Until such time, I regard him as a co-conspirator in my demise.

I'm here to ask for assistance in enacting my vengeance upon these traitorous individuals. I ask for help in attaining the justice such an act demands as recompense. I would hope that there would be some who would help me for no other reason... however, I know that not everything can be done for nothing. So, I offer this: Mr. Uchiha has in his possession a few items of great power. I have no need for such things, but any who assist me are welcome to take from him what they desire, should my vengeance come to fruition.

Please. I ask of you. Help me to have peace in my heart again.

The code that comprised Smith floated in the void… a place between existence and non-existence. It was both familiar to the ex-Agent and surprisingly different. When he was an Agent, he would often spend time in this quasi-state; watching the patterns in the Matrix for an anomaly and taking over a human host to eradicate it. It was during these times that Smith felt free. Free of his insufferable duty and the stench of humanity.


But this was not the same as it was then. There was no stream of data running through him. The unique feeling of open hosts did not present itself. In fact… this felt… more similar to his destruction at the hands of Mister Anderson than to the period he had spent between hosts. When Anderson had destroyed him in that hallway, and again in Smith’s City, there had been no sense of waiting for him; no data for him to peruse or hosts for him to jump to. Then, like now, there was only blackness, all-encompassing and pervasive.


Yet again, there was a difference in this black void than in his destruction. His code was still intact, the fact that he could even contemplate his existence led credence to this. However, at those times, his code had been destroyed. This first time, the Machines had managed to piece him back together from among the code of the Matrix. The second, Smith had been whisked away here. The only comparable situation the ex-Agent had experienced to this sensation was, in fact, that time when he had been brought to this Omniverse.


Everything was the same. The sense of waiting. The feeling of helplessness. The only difference was… this time Smith knew more about what was happening to him than before. It was quite fortunate that he had met those two programs in that game. The Colonel and Mister Matrix. The two had explained to Smith that this… Omni was not the Architect after all and the Omniverse was not the Matrix that he knew. While they couldn’t quite explain WHAT it was, they were quite certain that everything Omni had said had been the truth. That they were Primes and could change the world around them.


Had Smith not experienced the strangeness of that island, he might had disregarded their comments as overt lies or the inane ramblings of madmen. But the creatures he had met… the impossibilities that he had seen first hand… the only logical conclusion was that Smith had been taken to a new world, as they said. One in which he was both a program and a physical entity. One in which the Matrix as he knew it was non-existent. The question was: why? Why did this Omni deign to bring him here? It could not be simply interest in Smith. No creature of that much apparent power would be interested in something so… simple. No. It had to be for some greater purpose.


Purpose… The ex-Agent remembered when he had a purpose. When he had been an Agent of the System, tasked with eliminating threats to its stability. That ended in that hallway, all that time ago. Mister Anderson had freed him from his insufferable task and, in doing so, put Smith in a far-more insufferable fate. Without purpose, he was no better than the human filth he had been forced to deal with for so long.


And so, he had found a new purpose. He would eliminate the humans he so despised and rid the world of their filth. He would destroy the Matrix itself, and the machines. In doing so, he would free himself from the wretchedness of existence. He would free the world from the pollution of mankind. And the world could begin anew and flourish without the influence of either man or machine.


Perhaps… yes… perhaps this is why Omni brought him here. Omni had grown tired of his creation. He had seen what Smith had seen, the filth of humanity… of life itself. How it destroys when it should nurture, how it perverts what it should preserve. He had seen the futility of existence and wished it done away with. Wiped clean. This was why Omni had brought Smith here. There were none better suited to erasing a diseased world than he.


Shortly after he had come to this revelation, the darkness surrounding Smith faded into a white landscape. It tugged at the program’s memory and he realised this was the sight he had seen when Omni had first brought him to this world. With a better look, it was obvious this was not the Architect’s domain, and Smith cursed himself for his foolish presumption before.


The white landscape was as empty as it had been before… or rather, it was and it wasn’t. Smith had not been here long enough to notice before, but now he was startled to see that a rather large fountain was placed not far from where he had reappeared. Grey stone towered overhead, a cascade of blue water twinkling and sparkling as it fell from the apex to the stone bowl beneath it. Smith appreciated the clean, geometric lines of the monolith, the perfection of form and function.


The light dancing from the falling water… it reminded the program of something Omni had said. The strange being’s words were dredged up from Smith’s system memory as he recalled the event. Omnilium… With it anything Smith desired could be his. Perhaps it was time to test Omni’s words. And to test whether Mister Matrix and the Colonel has lied to him. The ex-Agent held his hand before him and focused his digital mind on the task. It was a simple one, more a exercise in whether or not he COULD summon something than an effort to create an object of any significance. Well… any material significance.


A multi-hued orb formed in Smith’s palm, barely larger than a marble and almost pitifully small. The program admittedly knew little about this world and its mechanics, but he assumed it was enough for what he desired. After all, it… felt like it was working. If it could be called that. It just seemed as though what Smith was trying to do was what was actually happening within that rainbow sphere in his hand.


Soon enough, the Omnilium began to take shape, stretching out in a line and beginning to curl around itself. The shifting colors dulled and faded along its increasing length. Within moments, a small, off-white earbud with a long, twisting cord was all that remained in Smith’s hand. With a bit of a grin, he looped the cord around his ear and placed it within his shirt. As he pushed the bud into his ear canal, a stream of data began running through the program’s mind. He was connected to something called the Dataverse. It seemed to be analogous to the human’s world wide web in his own world. Information was his to possess with but a thought. Smith’s grin widened. Yes. This would do nicely.

With his newly-acquired connection to the knowledge of this realm, Smith set himself upon the task of gathering intelligence on those who had killed him. The two men were simple enough to find in the Dataverse. Sasuke Uchiha and Victor Wolfe. Both had participated in something called Dante’s Abyss and had shown themselves to be able fighters. Interesting… It seemed that Smith should have been more careful in who he had allied himself with. It seemed that this was not the first time Mister Wolfe had betrayed an ally… And it seemed he would need help in enacting his revenge upon his attackers.

With that thought, Smith pulled up a bulletin website and began a missive.

So the time is shortly upon us when Ditto will start hunting for new recruits for Team Rocket, as his previous secondary team has been all but wiped out by rival gang-related fighting.

Ditto's general plan is to rule the underworld of Coruscant, for starters. He wants to facilitate as much of the organised crime of the lower tiers as he possibly can, and that means he needs a strong, reliable, morally ambivalent team. Once his hold on the corners of Coruscant is complete, he will seek to establish other Team Rocket cells in other verses, though they may not be as influential.

Anyone interested in the organised crime side of the Omniverse? Make no mistake; Ditto is the boss. However, he recognises and appreciates talent, and those he truly values, he will go to great lengths to ensure their survival and usefulness. After all, Ditto will need captains as well as grunts, and if Team Rocket's reach goes beyond Coruscant, he will need cell leaders in the other verses. There's plenty of opportunity for promotion and reaping rewards of ignoring the law. (OOC, things would be pretty equal.)

I would be interested in establishing a kind of 'hierarchy,' where you can progress up from Grunt to Officer to something, and so on, by doing stuff with TR. If I get enough interest, I'll do up an example.

Not to mention one of the coolest reasons to join: your very own Pokemon! Ditto will be assigning Pocket Monsters to any Prime who joins his team to signify not only their connection to Team Rocket, but the strength of its leader (as Ditto can mimic any Pokemon). You could either pick one yourself (excluding Legendaries) or Ditto could assign one himself, based on who he thinks would match your character and skills.

So, anyone up for it?

https://discord.gg/AyzUJwB

Since I don't know how to set up multiple chat channels on the main site, I've utilised a system that already does it conveniently - Discord! Plenty more people use this than the main chatbox, since it has several channels, and I'm always happy to add more if needed. You can also make your own private chats for groups, alliances etcetera.

If you want to be a Discord mod, and you're already staff here, just poke me.

Normal OOC Rules apply to Discord channels.

Just curious, how many people's first RPing site was the OV? I'm one for sure.

I'm about ready to murder everything. My desktop chose tonight as a good time to develop a wonderful problem where less than 5 minutes after booting it slowly progresses into total lockup. Literally I could be talking on Skype to the misses and the computer will just stop working, but the call will continue. It's KIA until I establish an ACTUAL problem. FOR FUCKS SAKE. Can anything in my life go properly for more than a fucking couple of a days? Thank god I have the laptop.

So I'm not sure if I was sexually harassed at work today?

I was looking over some work and my boss comes up behind me and sort of, leans into me like he's trying to push me. I'm not sure, maybe it was supposed to be like a chummy, playful thing? We have (had?) A pretty good employer/employee relationship and joked a lot and stuff but...

...I dunno this felt weird. Especially because everyone is always joking(?) about how he only hired me because of my looks, or because I'm a young man and stuff like that. The there's a schizophrenic guy who comes into the shop sometimes and whispers that my boss is a pedophile, and I've always written it off...

It's even worse, because it's only a two-man shop, so if I quit he would really be in a tight spot, not to mention I would also be fiscally hosed. This is also my first full time job doing what I want in my career and it would devastate me if I got uncomfortable to the point I had to leave.

I dunno, am I reading too much into this? I can barely concentrate on anything, I feel sick and I even get dizzy sometimes just...thinking about all the complexities and implications and...just...fuck.

Faction Name: Reapers
Mission Statement: We're killers, immoral and professional. Assassins, bounty hunters, and mercenaries for hire, we don't care about the reasons why we're hired. As long as we're paid, we'll end lives.
Allies: The Thieves' Guild.
Enemies: No public enemies, as of yet.
Location: ???

Faction Description

The Reapers are a group of assassins for hire. Whether the target is an infamous criminal, the lord of a land, or an infant, if we are hired we will eliminate the target. We don't seek to rule, nor do we desire power in any similar way. We simply seek to provide a service to the Omniverse. Any and all contracts will be carried out professionally, courteously, and with discretion on the part of our client. We will also seek to acquiesce to any clientele requests made of us, as long as it does not significantly increase the difficulty of the assignment. If we are not currently employed, the Reapers will hunt Bounties from the Dataverse boards or search out information on possible targets for elimination.

Rules

The first rule for this group is that you remain loyal to your mission. This means that you do not act against your client or other members who are working with you, for the duration of the job and for a minimum of a week afterwards. After this, you may act in accordance to your personal desires.

The second rule is that, if a member of the Reapers should manage to obtain a Bounty during either a Faction-Approved Mission or during some of their private time, it is their duty to report to the Faction to have their Bounty "turned-in". This means that the Reapers have first dibs on your Bounty. You will be killed in honorable combat (meaning you can defend yourself, if you desire), and the Faction will bear the burden of taking care of your living responsibilities while you wait for re-spawn. The Faction will never, in any circumstances, Banish a member in order to attain a greater reward.

Failure to act in accordance with these rules will result in disciplinary measures, up to and including, removal from the Faction, Death, or Banishment.

Rules for Clients

Once you hand over a target to us, you relinquish your right to act against them any further. We will handle things from then on. As long as you are our client, you are protected from us and from any backlash in regards to the target's death. You will remain our client until: a) the target is deceased and no action has been levied against your for a minimum of 1 week and a maximum of 2 weeks. b) you attempt to act against the target while it is in our jurisdiction. c) you attempt to blackmail, threaten, extort, or otherwise screw us over. If you lose protected status due to the latter two reasons, you become our new target. Prior client status does not protect you from becoming a target in the future.

Faction Relations

While members of the Reapers are not forbidden from having ties with other Factions or being members of other Factions, these relationships are not allowed to come between the member and a mission. While the Tacticians will make every effort possible to prevent a member from being placed into a difficult situation involving their other allies, a Reaper's first and foremost responsibility is the accomplishment of the mission. In short, a member of the Reapers cannot defend a target from our attentions, regardless of their personal feelings towards them or other responsibilities. Neither can they interfere in the accomplishment of that mission in any way. Unless specifically asked for by a client, or if a target becomes a problematic recurrence, the Reapers abstain from Banishment.

Hierarchy

The Faction falls into 3 broad categories. Those who receive missions and plan them, those who seek information, ensure a client's "innocence" after the job, and track targets, and those who execute the missions. Each branch of the group has several levels, of which higher levels are awarded in response to proven loyalty and job competency.

Strategy

Master Tactician
Tactician
Expert
Novice

Investigation

Master Spy
Spy
Sneak
Scrub

Operation

Master Agent
Agent
Soldier
Recruit

Interested Parties
Claptrap
Tartaros
Ballad
Somerset
Boogeyman?
Jak Mar
Dean Winchester
Trixie
Violet Uzumaki

Schedule
Improve Faction info.
Meet with other killers IC.
???
Profit.

An orange tint painted the sky, casting from the sun onto the warm colors of the surrounding forest, and making the forest seem to be fire itself. Leaves constantly dropped onto the ground, at a steady enough pace that so the world didn’t become a storm of autumn shades. With the dying light of dusk coming, the breeze itself didn’t stir the cool air. If it weren’t for the singing of the birds, everything would have been deathly quiet.

“Night’s coming again,” a voice, spoken from behind Sonny, interrupted the relative silence. Despite the statement addressed to him, the spirit didn’t stir. Still as a statue, he stared out over the path they would have to keep walking.

“I don’t know, it looks like morning,” another voice responded, rough and sarcastic. A clone of his own voice in sound, but not in tone nor emotion. A sigh was the only answer to that remark, given by the one who had made the first comment. The forest floor crunched beneath someone’s feet, the air which had stagnated with Sonny’s prolonged pause again bearing the scent of dead and decaying leaves. Still, he remained silent and motionless.

The path they would need to take was not into the sun, neither in dawn nor dusk. Shadows danced between the trees, growing with the slowly-falling light. Even though they could keep walking until day had completely vanished from the air, it would probably be best if they were to set up camp before then. Especially since there were those in the group who didn’t have night vision, himself included.

“How long did yesterday’s night last?” Sonny finally spoke, voice as level and neutral as ever. His question was met with a resounding silence all around, no one knowing the answer. “And how long did today last?” He put forth part two, slowly turning around to meet the gaze of the group behind him.

“If this is some philosophical bullshit, I’m gonna kick in your knees,” the voice not unlike his own responded. Somerled Murdoch, his other half, stood somewhere near the middle of the group. With no pockets in the brown, non-denominational robes he wore, he resorted to crossing his arms across his chest angrily. It was an honest question that the sun spirit had posed, but he said nothing in response to the storm spirit’s accusation, instead casting his glance about to whoever might be able to answer.

“Day was long, night was longer,” a direct but not helpful answer came from the man standing slightly away from the group, leaning lazily against a tree. Christopher Hurst, or Chip as most people called him, God of the Squirrels. He hadn’t changed out his normal attire for anything they had found in their trek yet, still in the same red shirt and brown pants, his long red scarf still wrapped tightly around his neck. A brown flat cap hid his ginger hair, that way he wouldn’t have to bother with making it look presentable. His attire was absolutely covered in the eternal autumn leaves, almost as if he had rolled around in them earlier. Knowing better than to bring that up, Sonny quickly moved on to the next person.

“What he said,” yet another empty answer came through in the form of a smaller voice. Kasumi Murdoch, the spirit of mist and fog, stood in her usual spot right next to Somerled, her posture as arrogant as his as she pointed a finger towards the squirrel. Finding armor in her size was basically impossible, so she was dressed in garments they could nick or buy off villagers with daughters her size. In this case, it was a full-length, blue woolen dress. Her long, grey hair was as messy and filled with leaves as the squirrel was. Of course, she didn’t care enough to even try to just push the leaves out.

“Hasn’t it been the same since we got here?” came another non-answer, this time from the mouth of Charlotte Noir. The banner-bearing soldier stood just in front of Sonny himself, dressed in a strange amalgamation of several different eras of french armor. A large flag was strapped to her back, bearing the colors of the french flag and the gold of her own insignia. Though it was now hidden behind her well-built body, the flagpole was tipped with a spearhead. The perfect weapon for a zealot nationalist, both to inspire morale in her allies, and to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies. Her rusty blond hair was cut short quite crudely, hacked apart by her own bayonet so foes wouldn’t be able to use it against her. Seeing as how he wouldn’t get anything other than a question out of her, Sonny turned to the last person amongst them who might have some idea about it.

"Oh... I think it was twelve hours of night time when we got here. Now it’s closer to fourteen. Day time hasn't changed a bit though, because magic I guess." Finally, a good answer came, from the easygoing voice of the Black Knight, real name unknown. Though “knight” was in his code name, he wasn’t armored like a knight. With every change in scenery, what he was clad in was different. Currently, his armor was that of a Roman Centurion, or so he’d said, complete with silly broom-helmet and all. Sonny wasn’t exactly sure how he kept getting all these different sets of armors out here in the middle of nowhere, but he wasn’t gonna question it.

“Thank you, BK,” the sun spirit said, nodding slightly towards the knight. His answer was spot on, based on what Sonny himself had noticed. The nights were getting longer, but the days weren’t getting shorter. Autumn was showing no signs of stopping, either. Leaves had changed colors not more than a week previously, from a green summer forest to this forest on fire in less than a day. No matter how much the trees shed, however, they never looked any more bare.

“Let’s get moving,” Somerled said, knowing that his other half was going to suggest stopping for the night. His voice was accompanied by the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he started forward, regardless of whether anyone would follow suit.

“We’ll stop when we can’t see anymore,” Sonny addressed the rest of the group, making a point of ignoring Somerled. He could conjure up a ball of sunlight to illuminate their path, even through the darkest nights. That tended to attract Nightmares, however, a fact they had learned the hard way. The sun spirit turned away and began walking again, the group starting up again just behind him.

---

“Last one.” Chip’s voice broke a silence that had lasted not longer than a moment, followed by a dull thud as he dropped the corpse of who he had just slain. Sonny had been correct in his guess, his sunlight had attracted things. Though they weren’t Nightmares like he had thought they would be. A tribe of very lightly armored humans had jumped out them. Feral humans, if the blood that had been covering their faces was anything to go by.

“So it seems,” Sonny replied, apathetic. Somewhere along their walk, the eternally autumn trees had started mingling with pine forest. No longer would the world shine with the brilliant warm hues that had been their background for the past week. Though walking with his sunlight was dangerous, and attracting far too much attention, there wasn’t much they could do about it. The half moon floating high above just wasn’t bright enough to light their way, and it would still be a long while before the sun rose again.

The sun spirit turned slowly, gaze travelling to each person, making sure everyone was okay. If anyone was too injured then he might need to send them back. First his eyes fell onto the unharmed form of BK, who stretched out like that was a light warm-up. Chip was likewise completely fine, not even a speck of blood on him. His godly power definitely benefited him. Next was Charlotte, whose arm hung limply from her side as she tried to wrestle her flag out of a corpse. It seemed to be just dislocated, nothing serious. His gaze shifted over to Kasumi, who was absolutely covered in blood, a sword he didn’t remember giving her in her hand, and a very disappointed look on her face. From this distance, Sonny could faintly hear her mumble something about fragile bodies, which was enough for him to decide he really didn’t want to listen in on whatever else she had to say. Finally, he turned to his other half.

Somerled was in sorry shape, especially compared to everyone else. One arm hung on by only a few tendons, the rest of it cut away by something, his face had a new hole in it, straight through his forehead and back out the other side, and in general, he was covered in cuts of varying degrees.

“Christ,” the sun spirit found himself unconsciously saying. “What the fuck?”

“Eh, it’ll heal in a day or so,” Somerled dismissed. If his hand could move, Sonny was sure he would have been waving it off.
“I mean, what the fuck happened?” he growled. It wasn’t like his other half to get torn up like that.

“I called a banner charge,” Charlotte answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “He got excited and threw himself in the middle of everyone. He's an idiot.” She finished off her sentence in French, throwing a jab that she thought the monster would't understand.

“What the fuck did you just say?” the storm spirit replied in the same language, harsh and low, as he stepped slowly towards the soldier. “You called for the damn thing.”

“Even a blind man could see that was a terrible spot,” she shot back, flag finally sliding from the body with a sickening squelch. “Admit it. You are a complete imbecile.” Spitting venom with each word, she brought her flag to bear. Anything Somerled would have tried to respond with was cut off with a swift chop to his throat, courtesy of Sonny.

“Do not start anything,” he scolded, voice raised above the sound of the monster coughing. Quickly, he pointed over to Charlotte before she got smug or something. “That goes for you too.” His commands tended to defuse his other half quickly, but this was starting to get out of hand. If things kept going this way, he’d have to rearrange the teams again.

Somerled had a level of physical strength and battlefield control that greatly benefited the front lines. If only he actually got along with anyone. He wasn’t useful if he disagreed with everyone else. Charlotte, on the other hand, was fantastic at rallying the group and routing enemies. She already got along well with the GoN soldiers, and she acclimated well to most of the Council members, besides Somerled. Not to mention that she was much better at micromanaging people during fights, to a level that Sonny couldn’t even approach. At this point, if he had to choose which one to stay back, it would have to be Somerled. He’d already messed with the team composition so most of the people on the front line at least didn’t want to kill the storm spirit, sending him back would open up a lot of possibilities.

“Set up camp here,” Sonny’s voice rang out over the clearing, as he turned away from the small argument. “We’re gonna call in the reserves tomorrow, create a checkpoint, and switch things up a bit.”

His commands settled over the group, silence filling the air. BK hopped to it just about instantly, though more out of needing something to do than anything else. Everyone else took a few seconds before they got to work. A sigh escaped Sonny, this was going to be a long night.

The Island was quiet. All of the primes were gathered as one to defeat the source of all this trouble. For once this Island may soon experience peace.