So far Jak and Daxter are roaming the main hallways as Proto, Gilgamesh and Mickey are fighting.

ANybody want to hang?

Welcome to the Omniverse Book Club! Here, we put up a new completed topic every fortnight to read and review. By participating you'll earn a bonus 300 OM (subject to change) and you'll be able to suggest a topic of your own for the next fortnight. Aside from the helpful feedback, subjects of the book club will receive a Great or Exemplary bonus for their storyline if they qualify. :omni:

Yes I know the dates aren't 14 days, but I'm getting this back on the sunday - sunday time frame.

Earlier he had stopped near Dalaran to discuss things with Arcee, but Jack had started riding Arcee in her motorcycle form deeper into Camelot. The reason for this was that he wanted to make sure he didn't damage any property that belonged to people who could perhaps attack him, and run the risk of doing dangerous things to him. There was also the matter that Jack knew that he was not ready yet to handle the power of the Oan Power Ring. In the long run he was going to need a better weapon, a weapon he at present did not possess. The Green Lantern Corps was not around, so it was not like he'd be chosen for a better power ring any time soon - and so he'd have to make one for himself. A new weapon that could allow him to surpass his limitations. The Apex Armor worn by Miko had been invulnerable, and greatly enhanced her speed, strength, agility, and fighting ability. The armor did not exist in the Omniverse but was worth looking into, in the opinion of Jack. Of course not right now, when he needed all of his efforts focused on the singular task of mastering the Oan Power Ring. While the Oan Power Ring, and Bow of Primus Replica were both formidable weapons, Jack had never really trained in how to use the weapons properly. 

This was why he had came to the ruins of a castle that had once looked lived in. While it did not particularly scream like a good place to build a base for the Green Lantern Corps that he planned on putting together, it would be a good start. It could be one of the HQs of the Green Lanterns in the Omniverse. Having them spread across multiple verses was actually a good idea, an idea he could do once he had an actual power ring to replace the Oan One he had on his finger now. Of course how he was going to make a power ring was a mystery he did not have an answer to. It was not like there was an instruction manual for such after all. Since he did not have an instruction manual on how to use the Power Ring, or how to create things out of Omnilium, any sort of training was going to have to wait for the time being. Jack sighed, lamenting his situation as he stopped training with the Oan Ring. It was slid off of his finger, and then into his pocket. Eventually he would have the real deal back on his finger.

So I heard you like art.





I'm opening these little darlin's up for commission at a reasonable price of 5USD a pop.

COMMISSIONS, YOU SAY??

SO MANY SLOTS YOU'D THINK YOU'RE IN A BROTHEL

• Zack Fair - Spur
  
• OPEN
  
• OPEN
  
• OPEN
  
• OPEN
  
• OPEN
  

PENDING TRANSACTION
Children in the works

• Dave Strider - Deme
  
• Damien Larson - Deme
  
• The Sexy Bartender - Deme
  
• Chloe - Deme
  
• Albert Alexander - Deme
  
• Jade Harley - Jade
  
• Karl Jak - Alex
  

I'VE DONE SO MANY ALREADY
Completed pixel children, ready for collection!

• Victor Wolfe [x] - Victor
  
• Gabriella Shale [x] - Deme
  
• Demetri Malius [x] - Deme
  
• IRIS [x] - Deme
  
• Finneas [x] - Deme
  
• Erik Vrell [x] - Erik
  
• Trixie [x] - Joe
  
• Yu Kanda [x] - Kanda
  
• Handsome Jack [x] - Jeff
  
• Gilgamesh [x] - Wyatt
  
• Jak Mar [x] - Jak
  
• Lucas Kellan [x] - Jak
  

I want to make sure my powerups/powerup forms are up to date for DA. Someone look over it real quick?

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

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

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

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

(07-26-2016, 11:34 AM)Alex Wrote: As part of being voted as a Community Star/User of the Month (I use the terms interchangeable mainly because Community Star is less formal-sounding than User of the Month), these members gain a color (you must select this in your User CP) and access to the Omni-World R&D forum.  In the past this was my pseudo-private forum, but it's now a place for myself and others to discuss the Omniverse.  This is also the meeting place/brainstorming area for the Storyteller Department, as well as the rest of the staff, so you can feel free to participate or share your thoughts. If the forum doesn't appear for you, you'll have to send Alex a PM.

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

Five days in the ‘Omniverse.’ She still hadn’t eaten a thing.

Was this how it felt to be a sewer rat in Rapture? Her stomach growled and her mouth watered, but she didn’t die. She’d taken up residence in a damp corner of a dark alleyway, adopting rats and one creepy hobo for roommates. In her spare time—of which she had plenty—she basked in the opulence of Coruscant’s Tier Two and envied the fancy clothes of the people who passed, usually on their way to the top tier for their impressive job or some other sort of extravagant event.

Poverty wasn’t that bad. Relaxing, almost.

“Yo, cutie, you change your mind about that roll in the hay yet?”

Sometimes.

Eleanor’s expression remained stoic. She stared, as she had become wont to do, at the storefront across the street, and the beautiful emerald dress hanging on a mannequin behind the window. Against her better judgment, the sight of it brought a smile to her face.

Roger, the alleyway’s other tenant, waited politely and patiently for an answer he’d never get. His scraggly, graying beard dripped with gasoline, which for whatever reason he drank copious amounts of, and some too-big clothes limply drooped on his dangerously thin body. He slapped a hand to his balding forehead and struggled to his feet, staggering toward Eleanor.

“C’mon, I been lettin’ you live here for days, now, girl, ya owe me one—”

He stopped short when he felt a painful poking in the gap between two of his ribs. Eleanor held the point of her syringe against his abdomen, gently nudging him away with the tip. The blade was old and rusty, but she kept it sharp, and Roger wasn’t ignorant of the damage a weapon like that could pull off. “Got yer bayonet all whetted, I see,” he observed, taking a step back. “Well—you’ll be gettin’ nowhere with manners like that, little lady.”

“Hmph,” Eleanor grunted. She removed the blade from his torso and returned her focus to Theresa’s Threads across the way.

Something told her today was the day she was going to get that dress.

“Oh, she speaks, sorta,” Roger said, feigning amazement, “Speak again, angel. Is that the only noise we’ll be gettin’ today, cutie, or do you have more for me?”

“Hate to disappoint, Roger, but I think I’m moving out,” Eleanor spat, standing and charging out of the alleyway at a brisk pace. She walked across the street and pushed open the door to the shop, never taking her eyes off that dress. As she entered, a series of little bells jingled and a salesgirl perked up behind the counter.

“Welcome to Theresa’s Threads! Let me know if you need—”

“May I try it on?” Eleanor said in a small voice. The salesgirl eyed her nervously, but slipped out from behind the counter nevertheless.

“…I mean, if you’re sure it’s your style,” she replied, glancing over Eleanor’s armored body, “then I can go grab you one from the rack, absolutely.”

“No, I would like this one,” Eleanor clarified. She pointed at the dress on the mannequin. “It looks to be the right fit for me. May I try it on? May I try that one on, please?” The armored girl’s eyes swelled with desire. The salesgirl paused.

“Um,” she started, “I… suppose that’s fine.”

It took a few minutes, but she climbed up onto the window display and unzipped the emerald dress, shimmying it off the mannequin, and handed it to Eleanor, who hurried to an open stall in the dressing room. In a blast, the girl had shed her old, rusted Big Sister armor and stepped into the knee-length garment. It fit snugly and warmly, like an old, trusty pair of shoes still in the prime of their life. She stepped out of the stall and observed herself in the mirror.

The sight brought a smile to her face. She’d missed so many things while her mother kept her in captivity, locked away to be experimented on and not to meet other children or attend formal events or wear pretty dresses in public. The person standing before her in the mirror—she was a personification of the girl Eleanor had always imagined she’d be, if not for Sofia Lamb’s cold, choking death grip.

She’d rarely felt more beautiful.

“It fits impeccably.”

Eleanor jumped a little. The unfamiliar voice’s owner sauntered up behind her. She was a young woman, with dark skin, curly black hair pulled into a tight bun, and one of those smiles that curled up just a tad extra on one side. She wore a gray uniform—one Eleanor had come to recognize belonged to Imperial officers—perfectly pressed, every button spit-shined and every medal perfectly straight. “Just delightful looking, my dear.”

The big sister’s face scrunched up. She did not remember asking for the opinion of a strange woman, nor did she especially appreciate it, right now.

“I would say buy it, but I don’t suspect you can afford it,” she shrugged, “nor do you really need to. You’re a prime, after all.”

‘Prime’; that was an unfamiliar word that still somehow fit like a glove when she used it to describe her. What did that mean? She locked eyes with the officer. “Do I know you?”

“I see you outside my window every night,” she smirked, nodding his head toward the alleyway across the street. “That’s my apartment complex you’re squatting under, young lady.”

Eleanor’s chin dipped and her cheeks flushed.

The woman reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No need to be embarrassed, girl,” the officer assured her, “Times are hard. Though you’ll draw the attention of the troopers if you don’t relocate soon; I’d have called them on you myself if I hadn’t found you so… intriguing.”

“You don’t even know me,” Lamb responded.

“Never said I did,” the woman replied with a chuckle. “Just that I see you. I’m apartment 305. Come knock on my door tonight if you’d like a warm meal. Au revoir.”

And she swept out of the shop, leaving a curious Eleanor in her wake.

‘Stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage.’

“Father…!”

She called, but no one answered.

One dream was ending. Life-giving water flowed into her lungs through the tributary of her throat, and she gasped for breath as her pale, thin fingers wrapped around the dog lever. She twisted, and with an expulsion of air that sounded too similar to her own pants, the door sprung open. Dimming sunlight spilled into Eleanor Lamb’s field of vision, and she slammed her hands on the ledge above and pulled herself up.

She heaved, expelling some of the ocean water from her lungs; so much the thought crossed her mind that she may be dead, after all. She shut her eyes tightly, letting the oxygen circulating through her lungs before trying to face the world she’d just been born into.

No amount of preparation could prepare her for the barren, alabaster plain that stretched out before her when she finally opened her eyes again.

For eighteen long years, Eleanor Lamb pictured what freedom looked like. The concept populated her daydreams and haunted her nightmares, and she meticulously altered her images of it until it transformed into something… perfect. She imagined wide open, grassy fields, with grazing animals plodding through the dirt. She imagined spectacular, sprawling cityscapes, with skyscrapers reaching higher than she could fathom. She imagined hundreds of thousands of people, with lives she would never understand and secrets she would never know. When she thought of freedom, she imagined a lot of things. But not this.

In all her daydreams, nightmares, and imaginings, freedom took many shapes. Through many iterations, though, one characteristic stood steadfast: freedom was full. Whether in blades of grass, or metal buildings, or people, something existed, and lots of it.

This emptiness disconcerted her.

She’d climbed out of the escape pod and into a void. Her mother no longer accompanied her; Subject Delta’s crumpled form had disappeared. Before her, instead of hordes of people milling about their daily lives, nothing dared to move—nothing existed that could, save for the millions of oxygen molecules floating aimlessly through the blankness. Instead of grassy fields, a perpetual whiteness oozed everywhere she looked. Instead of skyscrapers erupting nonsensically from the ground, a single marble fountain stood, looking just a little lonely.

This is not the world you know. Memories flooded into her brain, suddenly. A little, glowing white boy sat before her in them, a snickering grin on his face. He launched into a monologue filled with lots of words she didn’t understand, showing her images that just now crept out from the recesses of her memory. The… Omniverse? She had no point of reference for a word like that, but as far as she could tell, it belonged to the seemingly endless expanse around her. The Omniverse; that was the world.

This was not the world the girl had meant to enter, surely. Not by a long shot. While she escaped the claws of captivity, Eleanor intended to find a world she heard of in stories and read about in books. She had not meant to find a world that was totally… new.

Was she dead?

She touched a hand to her cheek. It felt real. No—she wasn’t dead. Quite the opposite. She felt so alive. So awake. So new. For the first time in her life.

And who was she to complain about that? She was… free.

Hope your birthday is great!

After he had finished his business in Dalaran, and had been reunited with Arcee the both of them had made their way to the ground, together. During the aimless trek that he had began, Arcee tried to make conversation with her partner. Something had changed about Jack. It seemed he was more like Optimus Prime than ever before, but she did not know why he was more like him. 

"So Jack, what happened? Why are you dressed like you are now?" asked Arcee, trying to figure out her partner.  "What is with the strange looking ring you wear on your finger? It doesn't appear to be made out of any technology I know of, but my scanners indicate it has a massive power inside of it, something I do need to know about." 

Jack sighed, and said to her.  "The ring is a relic according to the lady we met. She said it was some sort of Precursor to the rings wielded by the Green Lantern Corps. It seems to possess abilities of it's own, but I hate it. The only reason I am wearing it, is because I have yet to be able to create a Green Lantern Ring for myself in the Omniverse, given mine is nonfunctional at present. I did find the Bow of Primus, or a Replica of said bow anyway, and have added it to my bag of tricks. I do wish I had a blaster that was nearly as powerful as yours, Arcee." 

"Why is that, Jack?" asked Arcee, calmly.  "Because Mech captured us, and experimented on us... I'm no longer human Arcee. I didn't survive the trip to Oa, but the next thing I knew I ended up here in the Omniverse, and have been forced to make do with a whole new set of rules. As a result, I have to be on the look out for Decepticon activity, while trying to figure out how my power ring works." 

So Jack was now burdened with a Power Ring that came with the responsibility to protect and serve. This reminded her of how Orion Pax had gained the Matrix of Leadership. Thankfully Megatron and Silas, and Starscream were not around, because she knew Jack was not ready. He'd have a long way to go before he could be worthy of the title of Prime. Still, as his partner, and as his friend, Arcee was going to ensure he received the training he needed in order to become a worthy heir to the title of Prime. This place needed a Prime with the many dangers she had learned about during her longer stay than Jack. The ring on his hand might even make him a target for several of the Primes, possibly. So he was going to need to learn how to use it fast in her opinion, if she was being honest.