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The air of the seaside town had sunk into everything, but Joseph could still smell the fear on the man as he wrestled him to the ground. The floor stunk, the walls stunk, he stunk, but the tang of cold sweat was like nothing else.

The three remaining members of the man's crew - those that hadn't fled in the first few moments of the fight, anyway - lay sprawled in varying states of unconsciousness across the room. The one that had been guarding the door, a young fellow with short brown hair, lay face down in the thin puddle of blood that oozed from his broken nose. The next two – big, burly fuckers with piggy slits for eyes whose only separating features seemed to be their hairstyles – lay on top of each other a few steps further inside, two pieces of a splintered wooden pole on either side.

The captain himself was nothing remarkable: an aging, balding man with a salt-and-pepper mullet and a dirty comb-over, a rum gut, and dull, slate-gray eyes. Were it not for the tattoo of an angry dragon snaking up the left side of his neck, he could have been mistaken for just an ordinary sleazeball. Perhaps that was how he had defeated so many.

Joseph pinned him to the ground, putting his weight on the arm pressed across the man's shoulders while the other kept one of the man's hands pulled behind his back. “'Firestarter' Avery,” Joseph said. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You crazy bastard,” Avery growled. He punctuated his sentence by spitting out some blood; Joseph had clocked him pretty good after dispensing with the terrible twins. “Just who the Hell are you?”

“I don't think that really matters, do you?” Joseph asked, and illustrated his point by pulling upward on the man's trapped arm, eliciting a scream of pain as he forced it to go a few degrees further than it was designed to. “But since you asked: I'm here to take you in.”

“Son of a – ARGH! - bitch!” Avery yowled, then stilled, his head turning a little to get a better look at him. His eyes narrowed, then widened. “That hair! Wait, I know you. You're 'Broomhead!' ”

“Heh.” Joseph smirked. “I'm flattered that I'm so well known among the scum scraping the bottom of the bounty board.”

“Navy lapdog,” the man spat again, his brows furrowed in anger, eyes flashing with distaste. “Bounty hunters like you, you don't get to criticize me. You hear me?! At least I've chosen a side, you bristle-haired bastard.” He laughed. “Oh, that pissed you off, did it?”

Joseph thought he was pretty good at keeping his self-control, but this guy was really pushing it. “Tsk,” he muttered under his breath. “You've got some balls, old man. And if you don't shut up, that's ALL you're going to have.”

With that, he dislocated Avery's shoulder. The man screamed again, then stopped. “Moron,” he heard Avery chuckle, and with a bodily shove, the man rolled over, his flopping arm sandwiching between them. Joseph had just a moment to register what had happened before the elbow of the man's other arm drove itself into his side.

Joseph grunted. “You fat bastard. Get off me!” He shoved, wincing as Avery threw another elbow. Straining, he managed to snake his legs upward, enough to plant his feet on the man's hips, and kicked.

Avery flew off him, sputtering and yelping as he tumbled, rolling repeatedly on his injured shoulder until stopping with a thud against the line of ale casks against the wall. As Joseph rose to his feet, so did he, one side slumped until Avery rammed it against one of the stacked barrels. There was an unpleasant sounding crack and another scream as the pirate relocated his shoulder. The wood of the barrel splintered, and a dribble of its contents spilled forth.

Joseph rubbed his side. That was sloppy. Of course Avery wasn't going to be taken down that easily. “Heh,” he smirked. “Looks like you've still got some spunk in yu, old man.”

Avery was breathing hard, but grinned back, his eyes uncomfortably wide. “I've got a lot more than that inside me, brat.” He lifted the hand attached to the recently reseated arm and held it up to the dribble of ale, letting it run over his fingers before he brought them to his lips, licking it up. “Ah, Sunset Isle's finest! This brings back memories.”

“I'm sure,” Joseph said, slowly sliding one hand behind his back to start loosening the straps of his weapon.

“It's where I decided to become a pirate! The world is so large, I thought, surely there must be ale even better than this!” Avery laughed.

“Seems like kind of a weird career path,” Joseph said conversationally, loosening a second strap. “Haven't you ever heard of wine tasters?”

“I'm a greedy man, Broomhead,” Avery practically purred as he licked up the last residue on his fingers. He cackled. “I don't just want some of it. I want it all. That's why the fruit came to me, I'm sure of it.”

Fruit? Joseph paused. Abandoning all subtlety, he ripped the last strap free. The smooth wooden handle of his weapon fell into his palm.

“That's right. I ate the Suikomu Suikomu fruit, and became a Drinking Man!” Avery patted his belly. With a flick of his wrist, his fingers ducked into his belt and pulled out a match, striking it against his skin in the same motion. He brought the flame up to his face. His features flickered, cast into light and deep shadows. “Let me show you … how I earned my name!”

Joseph spun the handle of his broom, bringing it in front of him as Avery opened his mouth. There was a thundering shudder in the man's body, a glimmering of something wet inside his gaping maw, before a torrent of stinking black ale spewed forth. The light of the match caught the edge of the flow, flames catching and blossoming as it flooded towards Joseph.

“'Firestarter.' Heh.” Joseph smirked. “That figures.”

And then everything went black.

Quote:~+~+~+~+~

He awoke in a deep, dark void. There was a grinning silhouette there. He found he couldn't speak, but somehow it seems to know what questions he wanted to ask, even without him asking.

“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.” 

Omni handed him a glimmering orb in which all the colors of the rainbow coalesced. “This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most. 

“You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn. 

“That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.” 

~+~+~+~+~

Info before reading: This would be my first time posting in these forums. If I make simple coding mistakes, I'll correct them either through editing the post, or posting a follow up in the same thread. BBC code will not work with my guest post, and neither will adding the original username I signed up with "RenegadeCrew" unfortunately. When I am able to use Quotes for my image I will post a follow up adding it.

Character name: Kai Ghoul

Character source: Original; but artwork of avatar is credited to Catrina Johnson.

Character history:
The long history that sprouted this young 14 year old child assassin is mostly kept in the Atlasian Galaxy's "Top Secret" files to avoid embarrassment toward the Atlas government. He was created in "Lab Umbra" the thought corrupt Lab at the time of his inception. As a young boy, and even though the odds of this happening were extremely low; he was diagnosed with an extremely rare lung and eye disorder, named "Dillaprotean". The disorder requires him to wear either OSM Glasses or some sort of OSM Visor in order for him not to hallucinate randomly. He also needs an OSM Inhaler to use whenever he exerts too much physical activity, or he will risk the chance of collapsing wherever he is at and be at a loss of breath for a few minutes.

The Atlasian Galaxy, where he is from, as been tech savvy for generations. On the planet of Atlas itself; there is a material known only as "OSM" or "Onyx Systematic Material". Utilizing technology using an "Atlas Device", an Atlasian is able to form the OSM into almost any working modern gadget. OSM in itself is relatively easy to obtain, even in the Omniverse, but it requires a lot of time and effort to construct even the simplest of gadgets. In accordance to the Atlasian Accelerated Learning Programs preformed in the Labs upon birth, most information and logic required to form OSM into any gadget are bestowed to children by the age of 5. Kai takes pride in his "OSM Protean Recurved Sword", which is generally unique to his fighting style and body type.

By the age of 8, Kai was recruited into a clan of child assassins; which specialized in political assassination. He was used in most key assassinations that sparked the "Advanced Conflict" in the Atlasian Galaxy, and no amount of government red tape could stop his banishment from the galaxy in the end. By the age of 14, he was put on a ship and sent to the outer realms for banishment from Atlas for his crimes. He has absolutely no regrets, and one day, hopes to find a cure for his disabilities.


Physical Description:
He is a frail boy, extremely pale skin. Weighing about 120 pounds, with black hair and solid black eyes with no pupils. He tends to dress according to the occasion, but will always wear black OSM Skelly toe shoes, only because they last forever, and he won't have to buy another pair due to wear and tear. He will mostly be seen wearing his OSM Glasses out in the field, but he removes them when talking to other people, to refrain from being rude. He wears portable red headphones which he plays music to from his Atlas Device. He is approximately 5'8 in hight.


Stats:
ATK:3
DEF:0
SPD:3
TEC:4

Starting Proficiencies:
• Physical Strength (1000 OM)

Starting Powers:
• Enhanced Senses: Insight (1600 OM)
• Master Acrobat (400 OM)
• Master Super jumping (800 OM)

Starting Moves:
• OSM Protean Recurved Sword (OSM PRS) (600 OM)
- Kai's first Recurved Sword. It is around 4 feet tall, half foot wide, and 5 inches thin. It is solid black since it was made with OSM, and is plated with the material for a little extra damage. It is also holed, allowing less wind resistance when swinging, making it a very fast weapon. It doesn't do very much damage, but it allows the user to steal about 25% of the life force taken with each successfully landed hit. Since the sword is unusually crafted for skilled agents, it takes a lot of focus and concentration to use effectively in battle, and is unable to be used when performing acrobatics, making it a pure dueling sword. Kai is able to digitally summon this sword using his Atlas Device, taking a maximum of 3 seconds to fully materialize. He is able to dissolve it into his device with no time limit. As stated before, he is unable to jump/run/use acrobatics wail holding the sword, and must materialize it again in order to attack. -

• Atlas Device (400 OM)
- Kai's handheld, pocket device used to summon his OSM PRS. It is also used as a GPS for his location, which he can use to find hidden locations to hide from an enemy, or find more OSM for bettering his equipment. (Requires OM to "better moves" like everyone else, the OSM is strictly a plot element to "handicap" the character.) -

Total OM Used: 4800 OM

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

Quote:Continued from City of Teens

Character name: Kakashi Hatake

Character source: Naruto

Character history: All history up until just before leaving ANBU. A few years before the events of the Anime.

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

Starting Proficiencies: [2000 OM total]; Physical Strength (1000 OM), Ranged Proficiency (1000 OM)

Starting Powers: [2600 OM total]; Master Acrobat (400 OM), Burst Movement (800 OM), Basic Enhanced Senses (1400 OM)

Starting Moves: [300 OM total];
White Light Chakra Saber (300 OM): <!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://i.imgur.com/v1OBR3c.jpg">http://i.imgur.com/v1OBR3c.jpg</a><!-- m -->

A tantō passed down to Kakashi from his father Sakumo, widely known as the White Fang of the Hidden Leaf. It bears a small, circular guard at the hilt and a straight, 12 inch blade composed of a special alloy. This metal (colloquially known as 'Chakra metal") absorbs the chakra of the user and channels it outward, emitting a streak of white light (a 'fang') when it is swung [ <!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLdkgzW29OQ&t=1m5s">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLdkgzW29OQ&t=1m5s</a><!-- m --> ]. This projects a few inches before fizzling out seconds later, serving to give it a bit more punch than your everyday dagger. Kakashi keeps this in a small sheath between his shoulder blades.

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

When Jon's eyes finally snapped open, he was not standing in the same busy, bustling metropolis as he was before.

Rather, he was being dragged along an open, lengthy corridor, two Stormtroopers clad in white flanking at his sides. The guard's arms were linked tightly with his own, preventing any means of making an escape or retaliating. Jon's body felt too weak and shaky to even throw a punch, besides. The blow to his head had took quite the strain on him. The bastard felt his legs scrape against the cold, hard floor, the troopers seeming to take no heed of his pain as they pulled their prisoner along. Peering out, Snow could see that the men were both armed, carrying blaster rifles each with their hands to spare. No getting away from this now, then... Jon grunted to himself mentally. Glancing down at his belt, he could see that his armoury was bare. They'd took his dagger, his bow, his arrows. Longclaw...

Jon bit down hard on his lip. He'd promised someone a long time ago he wouldn't lose that sword again.

Jon stirred and shifted slightly, groaning lowly as his gaze drooped to the floor. These sudden movements caught the attention of the Stormtroopers guiding him along. Or one of them, at least.

"He's woken up..." the one to Jon's left visibly pointed out, prompting a mere grunt from the other. "It doesn't matter. We're nearly there, just keep your grip on him."

Jon's senses alarmed. They were going where?

Snow tilted his head to look back upward, and take in his surroundings. Steel doors of a strange kind littered the hallway, each of them parallel opposite to one another. The most distinctly strange thing about them to Jon was that they lacked handles. How were they supposed to open? The bastard was still feeling the aftershock of his fall, so though hard to tell, he noted the symbols and letters that was plastered above each steel, cell door. A, B, C, and so on. Listening closely, for every few doors they'd pass, Jon could hear banging and knocking from within. And... muffled cries and pleas. ass though someone was tightly sealed shut within there, begging to get out. Begging for their freedom.

The Stormtroopers finally came to a halt as they reached the next door, this one titled F, Jon noted observantly. "Open it." the one to Jon's right barked in command. A commander or higher-up of sorts, Jon realised quickly. The other Stormtrooper paced forward obediently, up to a pad etched into the wall, hitting a few buttons simultaneously. Almost instantly, the two halves of the door receded, opening up and revealing a whole other room behind it.

Even that highly technical mechanism was enough to impress Jon Snow.

"In you go." the Stormtrooper holding onto him moved behind him, pulling Jon onto his feet by the scruff of his collar, and then sending a hard shove against his back. In a weak enough state already, Jon stumbled forward, tumbling onto his stomach with a groan, the cell doors closing behind him with a chink, closing the bastard off inside.

For a few moments, Jon didn't even dare move. He had not the strength too. There he layed on his cell's floor, defeated and shamed. The proud Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.

Jon slowly pushed himself from the ground, and too his feet. It wasn't easy. His knees still racked with ache and his head was still pounding, yet he was able to bring himself too. Snow drawed a deep breath inward, his hazel-brown orbs beginning to wander the room he had been sealed within.

There was a bed in the far corner of the room. Not a comfortable or welcoming looking bed, but it couldn't be half as worse as what they had back at the Wall. A wide metal bowl of sorts was stationed off to the side of the room, with water at the bottom of it. A substitute for a chamber pot, clearly, yet it looked fancier and still more sophisticated. Next to that was a supported basin, a turnable handle attached at the top. When Jon leaned forward to turn the knob, water gushed freely, as though it were a fountain.

The only other notable thing in Jon's new abode was a extremely narrow slant cropped into the wall, which was meant to classify as a window. It seemed impossible to actually see out of, though. It just served as the only source of fresh oxygen and air. It was hard to call the air in Corucsant fresh, though. The place reeked of craziness and instability. Jon didn't like it at all. Not a bit.

What lurked at the back of his head was the thought of home.

But where was that? And how far and wide would he have to travel to find it again? Jon didn't know, and perhaps he would never know again. He could only recall snippets of life before this, mainly his time spent at the Wall and Castle Black. Anywhere else was a blur to him. And the more he mulled on the subject, the more his head hurt. The cycle was a vicious one.

Jon glanced back at the sealed door, lips pursing slightly outward. "Those won't be opening again anytime soon..." the bastard murmured to himself conclusively. Jon was quite literally trapped. He could only wait, and have hope that the Stormtroopers would return hastily, so all this nonsense and madness could be cleared up and Jon could go.

Jon reached up to his shoulders, unclipping the black fur cloak that draped along his back and allowing it to drop freely to the ground. If he was going to be staying her for a while, he might as well get comfortable.

Snow plodded along toward the bed, taking a seat at the edge of it. He sat quietly, trying to gather and piece his thoughts back together, his eyes fixated to the door ahead of him. He felt his mind wander back to the events that had transpired down below in the second tier of the city. Was what he had done truly right? Or had he been too bold. There was no way of defusing the situation was what Jon kept telling himself. That the clash was inevitable. But was he right in taking sides? Was there really no other way?

And then... a sense of regret washed over him as he remembered. Crona... Jon realised. What had happened to the purple-haired boy after Jon had flee'd the scene. Had he met his grizzly demise at the hands of Sivo? Or worse... the Stormtroopers. Did they have him captive as well? And what was with the clumsy girl on the moped? And where was Adam when all the chaos erupted? So many questions went unanswered, and feelings of remorse and guilt racked and ate away at the Lord Commanders conscious.

Had the very one he was trying to protect fell anyway?

Jon breathed through bared teeth, craning his head to look out the etch in the wall that served for a window. It was still bright enough outside, though an orange glimmer shimmered through into the room, as though evening tide had just hit. Jon looked down at the bed he was sat upon. The best thing he could do right now was rest, he concluded. The headache was still there, and the bastard had the far-off hope that maybe, just maybe when he awoke, he'd be back where he truly belonged; at the Wall, with his brothers in arms and by oath.

Jon brought his feet and legs up, shifting his body so that was facing away from the wall, eyes closing over as he rested his head against the thin pillow provided. He did his best to drift off into a state of sleep, preparing himself physically for whatever was to come next.

A few folks in chat have expressed interest in this, so I figured I'd find out if anyone else would like to play. As it seems I may, or may not, be the most experienced in running these, I'd be GMing. And, as such, it would have to be on a schedule I could maintain. Likely, it would be on Friday nights, starting at midnight EST until whenever we finish (likely no more than 3 hours or so).

The medium upon which we would play would be the website <!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.roll20.net">http://www.roll20.net</a><!-- m -->

I'm thinking Fate Accelerated for the ease of getting into it, and the free PDF. After that, I'll leave setting stuff up to a group vote.

If you're interested and would be able to deal with the time constraints, let me know. If I get enough people, I'll start this up. If not, well... I won't. If I get too many people I'll make you guys fight it out to see who's gonna be able to play.

Or I'll just up the difficulty to compensate.

Current interested parties:

Emerald

Adam

Erza

Luffy

Atelos

Virgil

Edward

Dio?

Whirda

Any questions, answers, ideas, suggestions, etc can go here. I dunno if we need this just yet, but communication is key!

Since my original ideas for Jon's story arc could (potentially) be getting scrapped, I'm in need of a new one, so that I'm actually writing Jon out with a moving purpose and goal in mind. I want this new arc to roughly translate the same as the last, however. Jon's imprisoned by the Empire for a bit, then sent out by Kizaru to complete some task to redeem his non-criminal status in verses controlled by the Empire.

My question is, though... what exactly would the Empire have Jon do?

My original thought was that they'd set him out to claim some high/important bounty (without the OM reward, though. Just the removal of criminal status, as mentioned before) but even then, I'm not quite sure exactly how law works within a verse such as the Empire. Would they set him some other kind of momentous task? Would they just outright banish him? (Though I honestly doubt this, since the crime Jon committed wasn't all that serious, and the Empire don't seem like ones who'd skip the opportunity of puppeteering a lost and confused Prime).

Gimmeh some ideas.