04-10-2016, 11:02 AM
The cyborg took a few more minutes to filter back through his capsulebook. He wanted to set up an email address and one of those wireless storage accounts, in case he wanted to access his information from a public terminal. Where he’d actually find a functioning machine in a volcano-riddled world, he didn’t know, but if the Omniverse was a large and varied as people told him, there had to be some modern place out there.
With that matter squared away after a couple dozen keystrokes and clicks, Seventeen relaxed back onto his pillow. He closed his eyes and held up his right hand as thoughts and images formed in his head. A couple of minutes later, he opened his eyes and grinned at the touch screen phone in his elevated hand. By the time he’d been ‘done’ with the mortal world, the popular mobile devices were the ones that flipped or had keyboards or the weird, plastic nubs. Inexpensive touch screen devices becoming the norm in the world had followed his dirt nap by a few months.
Once booted to its main screen, the device asked for some personal information. It took the cyborg a couple minutes to figure out how to work everything, but once he had it synced up to the account he used for his capsulebook, he pocketed the phone. “Modern age amenities in a prehistoric world… How quaint.”
Grinning, Seventeen hopped down from his bed and scooped the Power Sword from its wall hook. He slipped the strap over his shoulder and pulled it taut so the scabbard rested gently against his back. Stooping down, he pulled open the nightstand drawer and grabbed the green shell he’d been given following the race. With the application of some omnilium, he’d managed to make it into a little keychain, and at some point, he’d tinker with it a little more.
For now, he just clipped it onto one of his belt loops and glanced over his quarters one last time. There was nothing else in there he’d need to take with him, which made sense since he hadn’t been living in the space more than a few hours. Walking back over to the nightstand, he picked up one of the framed photos and smirked at it. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed due to the nature of being dead, but the image was an old one. It had been taken during a barbeque following the defeat of the Red Stallions—a group of asshole alien invaders from the neighboring galaxy. Strangers and acquaintances became family that day.
Great people. Seventeen smiled as he set the photo down on the table. Even if he never returned to the fortress, he could always recreate the image and the others on the tablet from memory alone. With a final glimpse to the picture of his two children, the cyborg backed up and slipped out through the curtain into the hallway.
Once the curtain fell shut, it immediately felt as if the machine-hybrid had stepped into a completely different world. The hallway was partially bricked, and the koopas were a very minimalistic people, even if their leader had a taste for statues and grandiose structures. The reptile’s preferred white or light gray bricks to serve as their floors, ceilings, and walls. When you added in the wall sconces, what you had was some very drab interior design, especially given the fact that the section of this fort was still under construction.
The koopa shell jingled faintly as the raven-haired fighter made his way through the subterranean corridors of the fortress. On more than one occasion, he paused to marvel at some elaborate death trap. For one reason or another, the koopas filled their forts with inactive traps—things like giant spiked weights or secret trapdoors over pits of lava. The whole thing seemed ridiculous, but Seventeen wasn’t one to mock the people giving him a warm cave to sleep inside.
Navigating across what was apparently a corridor filled with a few Bowser statues that launched fireballs in timed intervals, Seventeen eventually made his way to the pleasant little foyer. The fact that he had to depress a hidden panel and slid through the wall once it opened was probably something that should have perturbed him. At this point, he just chalked it up to the koopas and their strange paranoia that someone would invade their fortress at any given moment.
The wall slid back into place with a mute click behind the cyborg, and he was immediately greeted with a few raised hands and head nods. Unlike the drab and monochromatic hallway, this room was full of bright lights and color. From what Von Koopa had told him, Seventeen guessed that this was a lounge of some sorts for the crew that maintained the fortress. The fact that it had a vending machine, water cooler, and a few couches only reinforced that notion.
“Already leaving so soon, Seventeen?” One of the Koopas remarked as the machine-hybrid started to make his way toward the metal door on the other side of the room.
Pausing for a moment, the raven-haired fighter nodded his head and lifted the rolled up paper from the pocket of his jeans. “Yea, they’re sending me out to go hang out with some nerds or something.”
The koopa—a plain-looking fellow whose job was to sweep the hallways afterhours—nodded his head after thinking over the statement. “I guess that sounds like fun?”
Seventeen shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll take pictures.”
The reptilian janitor nodded his head and went back to reading a magazine on mops, leaving his acquaintance to exit the employee lounge. Once on the other side of the metal door, the machine-hybrid continued through a few more short hallways and a large, spiral staircase before reaching the foyer. With no need for any additional formalities, Seventeen kept his pace as he cut across to the other side of the room and entered another small network of corridors. He passed a few more koopas and exchanged casual head bobs along the way.
After walking nearly the width of the fort, the cyborg reached the little garage that housed the barrel train go-cart. While the original had been mangled and blown up during the race, the koopas had built another one for his use. The fact that they’d done so in the span of an afternoon spoke volumes about the technical savvy of the reptilian mechanics.
“She’s all yours,” a gruff voice said as Seventeen entered the room.
The machine-hybrid smiled and nodded to the grease-strained koopa as he made his way over to the kart. After finding the ignition, he shifted into drive and waited for the garage entrance to be winched open for him. Once his path was clear, he shifted into drive and hit the gas.
With that matter squared away after a couple dozen keystrokes and clicks, Seventeen relaxed back onto his pillow. He closed his eyes and held up his right hand as thoughts and images formed in his head. A couple of minutes later, he opened his eyes and grinned at the touch screen phone in his elevated hand. By the time he’d been ‘done’ with the mortal world, the popular mobile devices were the ones that flipped or had keyboards or the weird, plastic nubs. Inexpensive touch screen devices becoming the norm in the world had followed his dirt nap by a few months.
Once booted to its main screen, the device asked for some personal information. It took the cyborg a couple minutes to figure out how to work everything, but once he had it synced up to the account he used for his capsulebook, he pocketed the phone. “Modern age amenities in a prehistoric world… How quaint.”
Grinning, Seventeen hopped down from his bed and scooped the Power Sword from its wall hook. He slipped the strap over his shoulder and pulled it taut so the scabbard rested gently against his back. Stooping down, he pulled open the nightstand drawer and grabbed the green shell he’d been given following the race. With the application of some omnilium, he’d managed to make it into a little keychain, and at some point, he’d tinker with it a little more.
For now, he just clipped it onto one of his belt loops and glanced over his quarters one last time. There was nothing else in there he’d need to take with him, which made sense since he hadn’t been living in the space more than a few hours. Walking back over to the nightstand, he picked up one of the framed photos and smirked at it. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed due to the nature of being dead, but the image was an old one. It had been taken during a barbeque following the defeat of the Red Stallions—a group of asshole alien invaders from the neighboring galaxy. Strangers and acquaintances became family that day.
Great people. Seventeen smiled as he set the photo down on the table. Even if he never returned to the fortress, he could always recreate the image and the others on the tablet from memory alone. With a final glimpse to the picture of his two children, the cyborg backed up and slipped out through the curtain into the hallway.
Once the curtain fell shut, it immediately felt as if the machine-hybrid had stepped into a completely different world. The hallway was partially bricked, and the koopas were a very minimalistic people, even if their leader had a taste for statues and grandiose structures. The reptile’s preferred white or light gray bricks to serve as their floors, ceilings, and walls. When you added in the wall sconces, what you had was some very drab interior design, especially given the fact that the section of this fort was still under construction.
The koopa shell jingled faintly as the raven-haired fighter made his way through the subterranean corridors of the fortress. On more than one occasion, he paused to marvel at some elaborate death trap. For one reason or another, the koopas filled their forts with inactive traps—things like giant spiked weights or secret trapdoors over pits of lava. The whole thing seemed ridiculous, but Seventeen wasn’t one to mock the people giving him a warm cave to sleep inside.
Navigating across what was apparently a corridor filled with a few Bowser statues that launched fireballs in timed intervals, Seventeen eventually made his way to the pleasant little foyer. The fact that he had to depress a hidden panel and slid through the wall once it opened was probably something that should have perturbed him. At this point, he just chalked it up to the koopas and their strange paranoia that someone would invade their fortress at any given moment.
The wall slid back into place with a mute click behind the cyborg, and he was immediately greeted with a few raised hands and head nods. Unlike the drab and monochromatic hallway, this room was full of bright lights and color. From what Von Koopa had told him, Seventeen guessed that this was a lounge of some sorts for the crew that maintained the fortress. The fact that it had a vending machine, water cooler, and a few couches only reinforced that notion.
“Already leaving so soon, Seventeen?” One of the Koopas remarked as the machine-hybrid started to make his way toward the metal door on the other side of the room.
Pausing for a moment, the raven-haired fighter nodded his head and lifted the rolled up paper from the pocket of his jeans. “Yea, they’re sending me out to go hang out with some nerds or something.”
The koopa—a plain-looking fellow whose job was to sweep the hallways afterhours—nodded his head after thinking over the statement. “I guess that sounds like fun?”
Seventeen shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll take pictures.”
The reptilian janitor nodded his head and went back to reading a magazine on mops, leaving his acquaintance to exit the employee lounge. Once on the other side of the metal door, the machine-hybrid continued through a few more short hallways and a large, spiral staircase before reaching the foyer. With no need for any additional formalities, Seventeen kept his pace as he cut across to the other side of the room and entered another small network of corridors. He passed a few more koopas and exchanged casual head bobs along the way.
After walking nearly the width of the fort, the cyborg reached the little garage that housed the barrel train go-cart. While the original had been mangled and blown up during the race, the koopas had built another one for his use. The fact that they’d done so in the span of an afternoon spoke volumes about the technical savvy of the reptilian mechanics.
“She’s all yours,” a gruff voice said as Seventeen entered the room.
The machine-hybrid smiled and nodded to the grease-strained koopa as he made his way over to the kart. After finding the ignition, he shifted into drive and waited for the garage entrance to be winched open for him. Once his path was clear, he shifted into drive and hit the gas.
![[Image: 17.jpg]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/17.jpg)