Hey Tattooed wonda,

It's your er...pal Daxter...

I have some bad news for you.

Jak's dead...

Yeah... you heard it from me...

But there is good news... he's going to return in the Nexus, the fountain like area in 2 days.

I'll go find Jak alone, unless you wish to join me. For now, I'm going to crash at the HQ for now and tell everyone the news.

Orange Lightning aka Daxter.

...

*looks back and forth*

Look, I need information...

Anybody who can respond, please let me know.

I'll pay what i can.

???

How does Roland Deschain feel about the Empire?

Does he have any loved ones or notable npcs we should know about?

Continuing [Acculturations] plot of Kalli assaulting a group of gangsters...

The road and the inhabitants of Tier 4 were well watched by those whom controlled them. Have that be stormtroopers, gangsters, or some other lesser known force, there was little room to doubt the organizations in play. Sickly individuals were walk about begging for medication or food, those dressed well for Tier 4 seemed inclined on leaving the crowds of strangers and the ones like Kalli, unknowing and exploring, were rare to be seen at ground level. It seemed like those who did not know their place, would find it soon, or face the consequences of being in an unwelcoming society. No matter the tempeture of the place, the atmosphere seemed cold, grey, the people in preparation for the worst.

Still with unattended wounds, Kalli's head would turn left and right, facing the buildings and scanning the words that appeared on signs, above windows, or in front of doorways. Walking along as cars speeded overhead, no sign seemed to have any indication to mend to her wounds. And even then, what would be the costs? Certainly the omnilium would somehow make payment, certainly all she had to do is focus for some time, but with how the gangsters seemed to react being a prime may not be good to reveal publicly. But the alien couldn't care much for that thought, she felt like she was about to collapse if not tended to quickly, and so if money or by gunpoint, she would recieve help.

Unknown to her on the catwalks high above, a single hooded individual carefully slid their fingers under a gun, a hum from the energized clip hissing into their ears. The shadowed face darkened as the hood covered the light from varying vehicles and signs, all the while two stormtroopers were dragged away from helping hands in the same uniform. The individual slowly leaned their head right, looking through the scope and following the alien figure's walk, the singular dot in the sight gleaming straight on the back of her head. As whispers followed into mics, communication passing through hidden channels, their finger tucked itself within the trigger guard. A singular word is all it took for chaos to erupt.

The familiar burning would come back to Kalli as her feathers were flake and fall, the rest burnt down to the flesh as a red hot beam flashed, dark burns fell deep into her skin, the crowd pushing and pulling, running and limping, the numbers of those in the street never seemed to decrease however, no matter how many would rush inside buildings or run around corners. "Target is still up, engaging." More laser rounds erupted as the henchmen fired into the crowds, striking down strangers around their alien target whom clutched at her neck. Muttering curses as jackets flailed and people grabbed each other to run out of the way of these sudden laser rounds, Kalli would rush into the crowds, the beams of light burning through the civilians, black, burnt holes following with every trigger pull.

Staggering over a corpse, Kalli lifted her head, looking back at the muzzle flashes that appeared at the balconies and catwalks. Another shot burned through the air, landing right behind her as another body fell with a thud. "Again?" is the only word that she could think to herself, recognizing the uniforms of the individuals from those in the bar that she had assaulted. With all her strength, she lifted up the rifle and quickly began to pull the trigger, the gangsters quickly crouching and going to ground, attempting to avoid the sudden bullets flying at them in response. Another red beam would flash past her, a singular individual holding a rifle with a long barrel and a gleaming scope kept moving through the shadows, calmly reacting to the sudden chaos.

Behind him was a bald man, motioning down the street toward her. Looking down and at the direction the bald individual had been waving to, figures could be seen shoving civilians to the ground and raising their pistols, firing toward Kalli as she stood to observe. With both laser rounds and bullets raining down onto the street, Kalli quickly organized her thoughts and began to move back through the crowd once more, carrying her rifle and firing back at the gangsters that continued to gain ground. "Prime is moving, track her down!" A singular voice yelled over the panic and gunshots, hoarse and old.

"Instigating violence is against the law, drop your weapons or be put to judgement." Stormtrooper armor clacked and clattered, their weapons pointed to the catwalks while a singular light flickered on, the dropship falling from the skies before landing in a hover in front of the catwalk. The gangsters above soon began their retreat, soldiers leaping from the dropship would soon add to the noises of the catwalk and balconies, chasing after them. The gunfire had died down in almost an instant, the gangsters that were not being accused of violence blending into the crowds and moving along with their orders unhindered.

Kalli however would find herself further slowed by the sudden brining about of APCs and stormtroopers as they began to attempt to halt the panic, blocking off streets and demanding citizens to remain calm. Where there was those beating down and arresting, ten more stormtroopers were asking for IDs and escorting people out of the zone. Now there were two troubles for her to avoid, and both easily leading to consquences Kalli would not dare to imagine. Slipping into a crowd pushing their way into a overcrowded apartment lobby, she quickly moved out of the havoc that flooded the streets, moving into a corner while waiting for the chaos to die down. And praying that neither the stormtroopers nor gangsters would suddenly kick down the front door.

Spent Omnilium: 5000

Character name: Kyuuei Ururu

Character source: Original, Naruto AU, +200 Years

Character history:
Multiple universes huh? I once suspected as much. In fact I gather that suspicion is part of the reason I’m here. Well at least as far as a mad gods and the like go.

I imagine I started out like many other shinobi. Dignity, stoicism, and healthy disregard for morality and violent behavior. Sound about right? Yeah well you know the story, if not you should. A village that is a military, parents highly trained for combat roles. Its practically a given that so many people in such an environment would be orphans.

I was never entirely and orphan myself. Sure my parents were dead but by then I had managed to some degree perfect my own techniques that gave me access to new family.

No I didn’t steal them out of the aether. No. I made them.

But let me put this simply rather than vague mystifying terms. There are two kinds of Shinobi of Konohagakure, the kind who merely learn through practice and experimentation, the kind who master the founding principals of how chakra works as a science and go from there.

Yes I was one of those. Mad scientist types wanting to unlock the secrets of the universe. I started with improving the cloning technique, mixing the ancient arts of fuuinjutsu with an ever advancing knowledge of the human body and used myself as a medium. Ah to be young and to already be on the path of immortality.

You see, it wasn’t long after the academy that I realized what a mistake it was to join the military. I should have dropped out when I had a chance and gone off on my own. Well if there is anyone else from my universe, or a possible reflection of it, they’ll tell you becoming a missing-nin is a preoccupation that doesn’t have a health insurance plan or legitimate opportunities. Don’t even get me started on dental.

But my jutsu were something new, the ability create flesh and blood clones that even after death left a body behind and quite useful clothes. That was the beauty of my design. It took a few years to perfect it and keep it quiet but it happened. One day I stood up for myself with a gleam in my eye and requested my first B-Ranked mission. By this time I was chuunin of fifteen years of age and had proven myself as scarily effective.

Too effective.

The kind of effective that makes you scream… “Oh Sage, what the fuck have I become?”

And no I don’t mean become and abomination or a cliche… though I was the latter at this point. No, worse I had become a nightmarishly effective infiltrator who was quickly losing their morals.

So yeah, I took the most dangerous mission I could, stepping up so to speak, and then proceeded to kill myself. Or rather make it look like I was murdered on the job. Instead having perfected one particular branch of my techniques, I swapped myself into a new body. A new clone. A younger one that wasn’t yet a teenager.

Being a kid physically does change your psychology. It makes the world feel like a better place when its not or even if you can’t find that happy zone, it doesn’t feel as hopeless. Also this is the world I live in. Children are soldiers on a regular basis. Up until like 90 years ago, during the clan wars, the life expectancy was between 15 and 30 years old.

There is an undertone in the world that people haven’t lost even after all that… they have stopped caring about children who aren’t theirs. We’ll just break your heart by winter time when they find our corpses in the thaw of spring.

Cheery right?

So I found myself in the body of an academy student one I had designed to be a little bit more authentic than I had expected. Weaker than I expected. And worse when I had finally escaped… who should I run into but the one person on earth who’d recognize me at this age.

My Jounin-sensei Areshi. It had to be luck… or maybe the one decent respectable man in the world cared enough to check up on me. I’ll never know.

Let me put it bluntly. I was chuunin by rank. Maybe even Jounin by skill level… but against my sensei who knew most of my fighting style, who helped raise me, and I was stuck in a body that I made more than a little authentic?

I got my ass handed to me easily. He may not have fully understood how I had found the fountain of youth, and thankfully he hadn’t realized I was technically immortal and could swap into a stronger body at will but… if that had happened he’d have gone fully on destruction mode and things would have gone to dangerous.

I was captured.

And then… I was here. And annoyingly my powers are diminished… I mean I haven’t even started moving around yet… but even I can tell something in me is missing. Something important. Like the universe just fell on top of me and said, ”Nope.”

The biggest of them… mokuton and doton. I had hundreds of techniques, and now?

“Nope”

And here I had plans to start testing a summoning circle that would have gotten me off this planet well away from freaken’ shinobi with no sense of realism and self preservation… so that brings me to my first question.

Who the hell are you and where the hell am I? And more importantly will I have to go through puberty again?

Physical Description:
Personality: Ururu is a bit of a mixed bowl. Much of the time she’s often as her young face describes. Curious, full of wonder and thoroughly enamored with the secrets of the universe. Other times she can mature within seconds of finding herself in a serious situation in which case sardonic, sarcastic and a tad flirty (alternatively read slightly perverted). She is to put it simply a mish mash of her younger and older selves, possibly due the body she’s stuck in, or possibly because that’s simply just who she is.

But all this aside she can be oddly pragmatic when it comes to eliminating threats, a fact about her which troubles her and scares her after the heat of the moment cools. Its not enough to send her into brooding angst and regret but it is a very valid concern as to why she should try suppressing that side of herself.

For the moment she hasn’t figured out how and given the new world that she’s in, it may be better for her survival if it never even happens.

Appearance: Looking at Ururu with the absence of clothes, one would have to wonder what parent would raise to look at a girl like that in the first place. Jokes aside… Simply put she’s average, looking to be a healthy mix of asian descent with enough ‘foreign’ blood to give milky-peach glow to her skin thats fully capable of tanning to olive brown. The same mix of blood also seems to given her pale brown hair, almost boardering on sandy blond. This same hair framed and styled into a complex braid that frames her heart shaped face and slight turned-up nose.

At this time she’s more cute than any close to being called beautiful, though the possibility is there; a bit of glimmer in her emerald eyes, and overall lithe body that isn’t as chubby and some younger teens still have with them when as they age.

However its her age thats hard to pin down despite looking at most, eleven years old in form. In other ways one could say she may look ageless, or perhaps… freshly made in an older guise. Something about her is quite inhuman or at least not fully natural in the order of how she grew. Hardly noticable but the undertone is there.

There are however two features that are of note, the first is a lancing scar across the bridge of her nose from her most recent fight that landed her here and a tattoo like birthmark on left collarbone in the shape of fuuinjutsu like runes and a keyhole.

Regardless of all that, she has the appearance of someone best written off as a short cute brat with dirty hair.

Clothing:
Ururu has never been picky about her clothes, comfort is king in the land of fashion, at least as far as she is concerned. That said she does have a sense of style. If she can find a cloak, coat, hat or tool belt made of leather, she’ll take it. Hoods, robes also wouldn’t be amiss either.

Stats:
ATK: 2
DEF: 1
SPD: 3
TEC: 4

Starting Proficiencies: Physical Strength [1000], Ranged Proficiency [1000], Remote Control Proficiency [600]

Starting Powers: Super Jump (Basic) [400], Master Acrobat [400], Hive Mind [400]

Starting Moves:
Six-Paths Double Claws
Cost: 900 Om
Materials: Silk, Leather Bindings, Tungsten Carbide Claws/Chains/Armor
Requires: Physical Strength, Acrobat Master, Ranged Proficiency, Remote Control Proficiency
These artifacts wrought by Ururu are a pair of fingerless gauntlet-bracers, each with five opposable claws paired individually to its own 30m chains sealed in a pocket-space. With a wrist flick they will snap around their designated digits for melee. However through channeled chakra they can be individually or in mass be launched, reeled in or controlled with appendage like precision depending on speeds.

For all functions its speed ranges from slow highly articulate to bullet like force/movement with simple less accurate sharp angled turns with proportionally greater chakra cost. If any part of the device is dislocated from the whole it becomes unreachable by the technique until repaired or replaced slowly outside of battle using chakra. Furthermore any excessive weight attached to the device will incur proportional loss of effectiveness with launching and reeling it in. Recalling the chains has an upper speed limit of 15 meters a second making it a maximum of 2 seconds to withdraw any fully extended claw.

Twin Sacrificial Rebirth
Cost: 300 Om
Requires: Remote Control Proficiency, Hive Mind
The base technique to which Ururu made her life and lies with. Through a series of hand seals and channeling of chakra Ururu can bring life to lifelessness, and generate a single durable replica of herself within a moment. There are some minor allowances from differences in appearance and apparel, but it will be a strong obvious familial relation to the user and their materials.

Combat effectiveness matches the user’s own in terms of skills and physical ability provided they assume direct control (read the user is committed to continuous concentration and limited movement). Autonomous use though personas (artificial personalities) is ineffective in combat without Tiered Assist to power their bodily functions beyond existing, a target, as a meat shield, or an authentic corpse. Said corpse will remain upon death to decay or until dismissed by the user. Range does not extend beyond the verse’s borders in which the user currently occupies.

The cost of this technique is a single decent payment of chakra that can be staggering if used several times in a short period consecutively.

I confirm that I have read and agreed to the Rules of Conduct.
All artwork and characterizations are property of Jeremy Mahieu, AKA Darkarma Tallon. All Rights Reserved.

[spoiler]Takes place during the Black Mage's imprisonment here[/spoiler]

"Are you there? Come now get up, we haven't much time."

The Black Mage looked around groggily, spotting fields of grass spanning seemingly infinitely around him, save for the strange creature floating a meter in front of him. Fluffy white fur ran across it's body, with small purple wings extending from it's shoulder blade like a bat. It's head seemed impossibly large in comparison to it's body, a spherical bulb over it's shoulders that came out far past it's chest and back, graced by two narrow slits of eyes and a smaller red-furred sphere where it's nose should be. Another nose-sphere was connected to the creature's head by what appeared to be a string, yet it never fell, only drooping slightly forward.

"What are you? Where are my friends?"

"They're not here Black Mage. Remember the Wind Temple. Remember the Warmech. Your friends are gone, and you are no longer in the world you know."

"Warmech?" The Black Mage scratched his head as he struggled to remember. They had found the airship, and it's source of power. They had found a wind temple high in the sky, taken by the fiend dragon Tiamat.They had went to fight her but then . . . then they lost.

"Am I dead? Is my journey over?" The Black Mage asked, to which he received a swift slap in the face.

"It does not matter whether you are dead or alive. You are a Warrior of Light, a beacon of hope and a champion of justice. Just because you are not home does not mean you do not have a job to do, people to protect."

"But where am I? Who am I to protect and serve if not the world of Cornelia?"

"You are in the Omniverse, and you must protect the people. In Cornelia the people were besieged to their cities and towns by the threat of monsters and demons, but here the monsters walk as man, and are twice as cunning. You were brought here by a creature named Omni. He claims to be God of this realm, but his strength comes from those he brings to this realm, sucking away at their power like a leech."

"Is Omni my foe then? Was it he who summoned the Four Fiends to corrupt the land of my home?"

"Yes. The fiends are his greatest servants, and also his greatest source of power. He gains strength from each denizen of universe, but his greatest strength comes from those four."

"But we have ended three of the fiends! Should he not be weakened enough for me to strike?"

"No. The fiends you fought were illusions, after-images of their strength. Your friends too were merely projections of the spirits of the other Warriors of Light here. You must find your old allies and meet their true forms, and best the four fiends once again, ensuring their destruction."

"But how will I know who my friends are? And how will I know to find the fiends?"

"Your allies will come in time, as will your old strengths. But for now you must focus on the first fiend, the one you called 'Lich'. He is in the realm you now tread, the Endless Dunes. His form is different here, that of an enormous worm called the 'shai-hulud'. Your quest begins with his death."

"A giant worm?" The Black Mage replied curiously. "I have bested undead, dragons, manticores and all sort of abomination before. I am weaker now, but I shall grow and defeat the worm."

"You must know that death is not the same here as it was there. Those who are killed can be revived by Omni unless one uses a powerful magic to stop it. More than death a creature must be expelled from existence to not be subject to Omni's hand, or allowed to empower it. You will need one of these." The creature rose it's small arm and waved in a circle, the action summoning what appeared to be a circular rune in mid-air. "This is called a 'banishment circle'. You will need one for each fiend that you kill."

The Black Mage thought on the creature's words and they made sense, though he could barely remember being summoned by Omni, let alone arriving in what appeared to be the middle of Cornelia. Still though the Black Mage wanted to trust the creature. He felt he'd known him before, but he couldn't realize from where.

"Omni's fiends shall meet their end by my magic, but I must know. Who are you, and why do you know what I am?" The Black Mage asked, and the creature put up what appeared to be a smile under his red beacon of a nose.

"I am Cid the Lufaine, and I have been waiting for you for a very long time."

Okay, It's been a while, and I thought it was time to get this going again. I will be taking over for now, and will do my best to get these up on time.

The Book club is a bit late, I know, but they typically run along side the Fortnightly gains. So you have until the current fortnightly ends to review any of the topics here.

Just Some Regulations:

• Please follow all site OOC rules to the letter.
  
• Format can be whatever you'd like providing that you follow these rules.
  
• This shouldn't need to be said, but please be respectful and offer positive comments. Negativity in any form is highly discouraged. While pointing out all the errors may seem useful 'to you' it certainly doesn't make that person feel good. There are ways to help someone improve without nitpicking. As a rule of thumb try to have 5 Positives for every 1 Negative (courtesy of resident teacher protoman).
  
• The above doesn't mean you can't criticize, but there's a way to do it without being negative. For example, make suggestions, don't say something about the topic is 'wrong' or poorly written. Maybe point out a confusing section and suggest revising it for instance, or even offer what you think may have worked better in that situation. Additionally, you could offer to proofread a member's next post for them: be helpful instead. Positive reinforcement will keep people writing and reading here.
  
• While you're free to develop your own way of critiquing and commenting, I wouldn't recommend making a 'scoring' scale. This isn't competitive and you're not grading topics. Instead, only offer advice and comments in whatever format you wish. Maybe offer directions the Plot can go from there (whether that is into a new topic or not).
  
• As there is a flat rate of 100 OM for participating, I feel I need to include this: please do not skim, thoroughly read before posting. If you skim, especially the wordy topics, you're likely to miss a lot. In addition, please put actual effort into your written responses. I don't want to have to put up a word count requirement for these; so please don't make me question whether or not you have actually tried to help a fellow member, or if you're just trying to get easy OM.
  
• OM is a nice incentive but if this starts to be abused, I doubt it will continue to be a reward. Do not abuse this for easy OM. I highlighted that above already, but it deserves a separate bullet. Seriously don't. Please.
  
• As a final point: yes you can offer suggestions as to what topics you would like to be included here next. I have no problem with that if you happen to be dying to read a given topic but need some excuse to do so.
  
• To claim your Book Club bonus, please include a link to your review (along with the text ‘Book Club’) in the active Fortnightly Gains topic.
  
• These regulations should be copied and pasted into every new Book Club topic (in case I don't do it for some reason).

With a scowl, Victor von Magnus strode out onto the balcony of his private quarters. Beneath him, the streets of Minas Tirith were rife with life. Up here near the top of the city, the markets were fairly common sights, with many people wearing sacks or handling small carts. The best deals were to be had up here, so on days like today; people were more than willing to go out of their way to secure food and supplies for their families.

This was also the place where most of the provincials came when they visited Minas Tirith to barter their own goods. With the weather as good as it was, Victor could spot numerous orcs, elves, and even a few dwarves (those unaligned with Bruenor) among the crowds. The man enjoyed having his private residences up here, because it reminded him of his old home. His baronial seat had been a majestic town filled with life, color, and vitality. While there were many similarities between Minas Tirith and Eisenhart, the two places were also different enough that the giant, glittering metropolis rarely felt like home. Victor much preferred the countryside, where the people were a little more down-to-earth.

“Good morning, Baron!” The voice was a man named Sebastian, who peddled fruit and vegetables every three days in the nearby market. Victor enjoyed the oranges that the man grew on terraces near the edge of the city. Citrus had been a delicacy in Eisenhart due to issues of climate.

“Hello, Sebastian, I’ll pay your stall a visit a little later,” the broad-shouldered man shouted back as he waved to the merchant.

Turning away from the balcony, Victor von Magnus re-entered his residence and made his way to his office. The last time he had been in Minas Tirith had been a few months ago for one of his roundtables with Aragorn, Thrall, and Xavier. During those discussions, they always tried to talk about the most divisive issue in the Kingdom… ethnic violence.

Minas Tirith was something of a cultural mecca, but once you got more than twenty miles beyond the city limits, Camelot became a verse filled with unfounded prejudice. While it often just simmered, there were more than a few occasions where bottled hatreds exploded into violence. Hell, there were entire settlements out in Camelot that seemed almost founded on hatred. Victor recalled an uncomfortable discussion with the ‘monarch’ in charge of Berry Blitzkrieg. The woman, who had somehow managed to amass enough mindless, spineless followers to claim herself a princess, was so ignorant that she didn’t even realize that she was everything that was wrong with Camelot.

“You get a lot of summons,” the female voice came from the man’s ‘secretary.’ In reality, she was more of an assistant and a maid who kept his papers in order and his home from falling into disrepair when he went off on his trips to the fringes of the verse.

“Anything good, Melanie?” Victor asked as he glanced at the signatures on the papers.

“Not much,” the woman replied as she poked her head in from the adjacent room. “You’ve received a summons to the Colosseum. They’re holding another tournament, and they’d like for you to be the patron.”

Victor chewed on his bottom lip for a few moments. “Another tournament? Aren’t the people there sick of massacring all those monsters?”

“Something different,” Melanie shot back. “They’re trying to get an entire bracket of primes. It’ll be less free-for-all and more classic tournament.” The young woman leaned in and grinned at her employer. “They clearly want a classy man to serve as the patron.”

The man grinned and shook his head. He never knew why she continued to flirt with him, when he had no real intention of romance. Victor von Magnus had already met his soulmate, and she had been dead for nearly a decade. He had met many pleasant women, but none of them could ever match Abigail or the fire she had lit inside of him all those years ago. “If anything, it would give me a nice reprieve from actual work.”

Melanie smiled. She had worked for a few years with ‘the Baron,’ and she knew that he was someone who tended to dive head-first into work. It made her happy to see him take an opportunity to do something with a little less gravitas. “Do you want me to draft a response?”

“Yes…” Victor replied as he slipped a few of the papers into a folder for later review. “Tell them I’ll be more than happy to give a few speeches and watch a few battles… just none of that normal tripe they usually put on. If this is to be primes and primes alone, I’ll demand a degree of valor and dignity.”

“Of course,” Melanie repled with a small smile as Victor handed her the original letter from the Colosseum folk. “What will you do with the rest of your day?” She asked.

“Oh, you know,” Victor muttered as he found his small bag of coins. “Sebastian’s oranges are in season now… can’t miss those,” he smiled as he headed for the door.

Step 1: Make a post. This post should be at least 600 words. You may also post multiple times adding up to 600 words or more.

Step 2: Click on the name of your post. See it? It's probably something like 'Re: The Story of John Doe', a large line of text above your post. This should have a hashtag and your post link at the end of it (see the bolded part on the end here: http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=41&t=1114&p=7298#p7298). Copy the entire URL from your address bar.

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New fortnightly gains topics go up every second Sunday at midnight (at the end of Saturday and the dawn of Sunday) GMT. The valid time begins on Sunday at 0000 hours GMT and ends on Saturday at 2359 GMT.