<![CDATA[Omni Archive - The Ashen Steppes]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/ Sat, 08 Aug 2026 08:39:25 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[Hawt Damn]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7800 Sat, 11 Aug 2018 08:39:33 +0000 Ash]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7800
She stumbled back against some crust covered enlarged surface, her all of the eighty-or-so pounds meant nothing to the rockish thing. She leaned across it, taking in a few steady breaths as she stared up into the swirling fires. Part of her was concerned about the possibility of being cast to the Underverse once more. Only for the connection to the dataverse to fill her with a second wave of relief. Ash closed her eyes and let the twisting calm in her flattened belly.

She still wore the gown from the hospital, it did not flatter her anymore now than it did in the hospital, but it made her very aware of the radiating heat all around her.

As she contemplated on adjusting her outfit or just summoning a new one the morality mirrored humanoid felt the rough ribbed surface she leaned on the move. It was a subtle movement, as if breathing while in slumber. Her neck craned to one side, noting it sloped down on both side of her, but there were shoulder-like lumps to her left. A set of webbed spikes followed the curve, just slightly drooping one side as if not used to gravity pulling on it in that direction.

It occurred to her to move a moment too late, the whole thing rolled over onto its side and a pair of bipedal arms with sharp claws wrapped around her protectively. She let out a soft grunt as she was crushed under the muscular weight of the legs, her back pressed firmly to its belly. The scaled surface was so hot it scorched her exposed skin and began to melt the plastic threads of the cheap gown. Holes formed where the scolding hot body pressed into her's and she had to bit her lip to not make a sound. Pain or Pleasure, it all was the same to her at this point.

Ash let her body relax as she tried to look around for any way out, or be damned to be burned or crushed by the dragon.

She was in a cave. The top of the cavern had to be a good 300 feet, its curved surface fully lit by the moving orange, yellows, reds, and whites of the lava. She could see the mixture drooling along the fang-like stalactites that hung only about 20 feet from her head, the hungry beast craved a sacrifice.

"I don't think I've ever tried hot wax..." She said thoughtfully to herself, then considered what was close by to assist in her escape.

Nothing really. She was on her own.

A bruised colored hand came out and with a few moments to herself, she quick summoned The Red Devil's Claw. Movement was difficult and limited but she managed to whip the grapple hook into motion and released it towards the stalagmites that settled perfectly at the edge of a steaming pool. The claw did as intended, wrapping around the larger one in her aim and locking into the obsidian spire. Its blades cut into the side, but the rock was much harder than the squishy bodies of her enemies. She glanced up at the sleeping dragon that clung to her and rolled her eyes as it started breathing heavily.

"They call me arrogant." She said to herself once again and wondered if she should attempt to slit its throat for a trophy. Against her more adventurous nature, she decided to focus on fleeing from her cage.

It took a lot of strength that Ash didn't have to pry her arms out from under the creature's arms. She estimated an hour just to do so little, as well as staying stealthy about it. All while dealing with the heat. If she thought the dressing room in the back of that strip club she used to work at was bad, it was nothing in comparison to the lair of whatever dragon held her captive. Sweat poured off her and soaked into the hospital dress. At least what was left of it, she felt patches of the thing missing, her skin rubbing against the rocky surface of the mythical beast. Which she bet would be blistered and raw by the time she'd get out from under him.

Or her.

While the idea wasn't extremely unpleasant, after all, there were tons of erotic fiction about dragons and what they do to their virgin sacrifices, Ash still savored the taste of Gildarts tongue on her. Although, if there was a powerful creature ever to be able to make a girl forget Mr. Clive, a dragon would be one of them.

With her arms free, Ash spun the semi-braided ebony hair around her wrists and prepared her next labor-intensive endeavor. Not one that was afraid to get into the dirt and mud, Ash only smirked at the challenge. That was before The Storm Demon attempted the feat herself.

When she pulled, the lazy weight of the drake was still just enough to give her a hard time. How the thing didn't wake up on its own before now would forever be a mystery to her. But for now, she strained and struggled. When she managed to pull her chest to one place on the rope, she spun her hand in the hair and reached for another half foot. She could hear the metal scraping the rock as her arms began to shake under the dead weight of the over-sized lizard. With nowhere to go, she felt her arms give out and her upper body slam into the ground before she rested with a long sigh.

For what felt like several hours later, she inched her body out of the dragon's grasp. Its sharpened claws were relaxed, but still cut into the gown and left the bottom half in ten thick pieces. Her flesh received about the same in treatment, except not as pinchable without the precision that came with consciousness. Each time she believed she managed to avoid it, a second later the nails cut through her with such ease she almost didn’t register she’s been wounded. It was the searing pain afterward with the cuts were exposed to hot fresh air that let her know.]]>
She stumbled back against some crust covered enlarged surface, her all of the eighty-or-so pounds meant nothing to the rockish thing. She leaned across it, taking in a few steady breaths as she stared up into the swirling fires. Part of her was concerned about the possibility of being cast to the Underverse once more. Only for the connection to the dataverse to fill her with a second wave of relief. Ash closed her eyes and let the twisting calm in her flattened belly.

She still wore the gown from the hospital, it did not flatter her anymore now than it did in the hospital, but it made her very aware of the radiating heat all around her.

As she contemplated on adjusting her outfit or just summoning a new one the morality mirrored humanoid felt the rough ribbed surface she leaned on the move. It was a subtle movement, as if breathing while in slumber. Her neck craned to one side, noting it sloped down on both side of her, but there were shoulder-like lumps to her left. A set of webbed spikes followed the curve, just slightly drooping one side as if not used to gravity pulling on it in that direction.

It occurred to her to move a moment too late, the whole thing rolled over onto its side and a pair of bipedal arms with sharp claws wrapped around her protectively. She let out a soft grunt as she was crushed under the muscular weight of the legs, her back pressed firmly to its belly. The scaled surface was so hot it scorched her exposed skin and began to melt the plastic threads of the cheap gown. Holes formed where the scolding hot body pressed into her's and she had to bit her lip to not make a sound. Pain or Pleasure, it all was the same to her at this point.

Ash let her body relax as she tried to look around for any way out, or be damned to be burned or crushed by the dragon.

She was in a cave. The top of the cavern had to be a good 300 feet, its curved surface fully lit by the moving orange, yellows, reds, and whites of the lava. She could see the mixture drooling along the fang-like stalactites that hung only about 20 feet from her head, the hungry beast craved a sacrifice.

"I don't think I've ever tried hot wax..." She said thoughtfully to herself, then considered what was close by to assist in her escape.

Nothing really. She was on her own.

A bruised colored hand came out and with a few moments to herself, she quick summoned The Red Devil's Claw. Movement was difficult and limited but she managed to whip the grapple hook into motion and released it towards the stalagmites that settled perfectly at the edge of a steaming pool. The claw did as intended, wrapping around the larger one in her aim and locking into the obsidian spire. Its blades cut into the side, but the rock was much harder than the squishy bodies of her enemies. She glanced up at the sleeping dragon that clung to her and rolled her eyes as it started breathing heavily.

"They call me arrogant." She said to herself once again and wondered if she should attempt to slit its throat for a trophy. Against her more adventurous nature, she decided to focus on fleeing from her cage.

It took a lot of strength that Ash didn't have to pry her arms out from under the creature's arms. She estimated an hour just to do so little, as well as staying stealthy about it. All while dealing with the heat. If she thought the dressing room in the back of that strip club she used to work at was bad, it was nothing in comparison to the lair of whatever dragon held her captive. Sweat poured off her and soaked into the hospital dress. At least what was left of it, she felt patches of the thing missing, her skin rubbing against the rocky surface of the mythical beast. Which she bet would be blistered and raw by the time she'd get out from under him.

Or her.

While the idea wasn't extremely unpleasant, after all, there were tons of erotic fiction about dragons and what they do to their virgin sacrifices, Ash still savored the taste of Gildarts tongue on her. Although, if there was a powerful creature ever to be able to make a girl forget Mr. Clive, a dragon would be one of them.

With her arms free, Ash spun the semi-braided ebony hair around her wrists and prepared her next labor-intensive endeavor. Not one that was afraid to get into the dirt and mud, Ash only smirked at the challenge. That was before The Storm Demon attempted the feat herself.

When she pulled, the lazy weight of the drake was still just enough to give her a hard time. How the thing didn't wake up on its own before now would forever be a mystery to her. But for now, she strained and struggled. When she managed to pull her chest to one place on the rope, she spun her hand in the hair and reached for another half foot. She could hear the metal scraping the rock as her arms began to shake under the dead weight of the over-sized lizard. With nowhere to go, she felt her arms give out and her upper body slam into the ground before she rested with a long sigh.

For what felt like several hours later, she inched her body out of the dragon's grasp. Its sharpened claws were relaxed, but still cut into the gown and left the bottom half in ten thick pieces. Her flesh received about the same in treatment, except not as pinchable without the precision that came with consciousness. Each time she believed she managed to avoid it, a second later the nails cut through her with such ease she almost didn’t register she’s been wounded. It was the searing pain afterward with the cuts were exposed to hot fresh air that let her know.]]> <![CDATA[Koopa Troopas, Two of them did find me]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7797 Fri, 10 Aug 2018 07:28:32 +0000 Desman Black]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7797
What was he even doing here? He h.adn’t seen a single other soul while here. And why would he? This place is a barren wasteland, nearly no one could survive here. Was he just so stubborn he was taking his ‘anywhere’ word to literally?

Well… It was too late to go back anyway… he would probably die of dehydration or heat stroke before he reached halfway back. What he needed was to find water, especially now that he was human again… he forgot how much effort it took to take care of such a body…

And how much sweat it produced, he had already taken his scarf and jacket off, who knows where they were now. Though judging by how dry the heat was, with so little wind, probably still where he dropped them.

Maybe taking his shirt off will let him last just the little bit longer… he was already starting to see walking turtles of in the distance… he needed all the time he could get… he could even swear they were talking…

“...yeah, and she was so passionate about her interests, I’m telling you he is the perfect person for me.”

“And I’m telling you he is nothing a golddigger KK. If you don’t believe me ask his exes, they- wait, what is that?”

“Nah-uh Kyle, you ain't gonna stop me that easily.”

“No! I’m serious! Look! There is someone of in the distance, he looks like he’s gonna faint!”

“Oh Arceus! Your right! What should we do!”

“Should we take him back to the castle?”

“What if our lord doesn’t appreciate us bringing outsiders without his permission?”

“There’s no time he gonna die out here.”

“You’re… You’re right… Come on, stay with us while we help you… Please….”

Quote:Words (acording to Google Docs): 319/5000-10,000
]]>
What was he even doing here? He h.adn’t seen a single other soul while here. And why would he? This place is a barren wasteland, nearly no one could survive here. Was he just so stubborn he was taking his ‘anywhere’ word to literally?

Well… It was too late to go back anyway… he would probably die of dehydration or heat stroke before he reached halfway back. What he needed was to find water, especially now that he was human again… he forgot how much effort it took to take care of such a body…

And how much sweat it produced, he had already taken his scarf and jacket off, who knows where they were now. Though judging by how dry the heat was, with so little wind, probably still where he dropped them.

Maybe taking his shirt off will let him last just the little bit longer… he was already starting to see walking turtles of in the distance… he needed all the time he could get… he could even swear they were talking…

“...yeah, and she was so passionate about her interests, I’m telling you he is the perfect person for me.”

“And I’m telling you he is nothing a golddigger KK. If you don’t believe me ask his exes, they- wait, what is that?”

“Nah-uh Kyle, you ain't gonna stop me that easily.”

“No! I’m serious! Look! There is someone of in the distance, he looks like he’s gonna faint!”

“Oh Arceus! Your right! What should we do!”

“Should we take him back to the castle?”

“What if our lord doesn’t appreciate us bringing outsiders without his permission?”

“There’s no time he gonna die out here.”

“You’re… You’re right… Come on, stay with us while we help you… Please….”

Quote:Words (acording to Google Docs): 319/5000-10,000
]]> <![CDATA[Medical Aid]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7786 Wed, 08 Aug 2018 00:33:36 +0000 Ricter]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7786
The tone that Ricter gave off when speaking over the phone seemed fully confident in the skills he had in himself as he walked down the path way leading from Ambrosia towards one of the gates. He had been given some directions to head to a certain location and look for some kind of item, which he found to be interesting but more so he needed this item for a remedy Dr. Sorrel, a close friend of his, needed to make.

Over the phone a feminine voice would speak back to him, sounding unsure and worried but accepting of the fact that maybe it was best he did go on his own and not take someone else with him.

“I know, however I still can't help but worry. Just keep in touch and refer to the picture I sent you if you get confused. I need it to heal the eternal burns from the fire salamanders that stay in the mountains, but feel free to add the herb to your weapon too. Maybe you could even find a means of curing it.”

“Wait, that would just mean you’d have less patients!” The stout complained with a frown while Dr. Sorrel seemed to giggle on the other end of the call, snickering to his reaction and finding it pretty funny.

“Guess you found me out, however it would be a good skill to add too your list of abilities, you did wish to heal all manner of things, yes? Well burns are just something your bound to face.” A true statement, and so far he had been faced with them before, just he choose to heal them fully rather than mitigate the wound and allow for the nurses to finish the job. It took more effort and so he would simply admit defeat at least on that front.

“Fine, hopefully I can be back in maybe a day or two.”

“To hurry along your trip feel free to search for the Gorons, they are a nomadic people of that realm, in their travels I’m sure they ran into the flower a lot, they might be a bit cold at first but if your nice to them I’m sure they will let you come along with them on their travels and lead you strait to what your looking for. The other option is to look for one of King Bowsers underground kingdoms, however from rumors of the king I’d avoid that as much as possible.”

Ricter understood, though he didn’t know whom the Gorons were he would probably find out now. “Alright, thanks, I’ll keep you informed.” After saying their good byes he hung up and would be met with the large gate that seemed almost like a massive portal to some kind of sci-fi related world. Funny enough he knew full well there was something like that around, but this one looked like it lead to somewhere hot, which given descriptions of this place, it didn’t sound fun at all yet he stepped forward and placed his hand on the gate.

Walking strait through he seemed to go past an array of colors and lights, taking him from one point to the other as by the time he came out on the other side he was hit by a blast of heat. He had entered into the Ashen Steppes, a place of such volatile nature that barely anyone lived here, looking out over the landscape it was dark and mountainous.

Rivers of lava flowed in certain locations while a constant smog drifted over where he was in, making it hard to breath at first but he would be fine, the stout more than adapted himself for this mission. Mostly in the form of staying in the hot part of the house for a couple of hours a day, he was great at preparing.

Ahead was a path that lead into an open field, but the field seemed to have spouts of fire everywhere, making him frown as he had no clue where too look, all he was told that he should look in caves and any places with immense amounts of heat. Which just screamed ‘jump in the lava’ or ‘fight a monster inside a cave’.

In fact as he stepped forward onto the hot ground he jumped as the rocks were hot, which normally would leave burns on someone else instantly he just felt a soft sizzle, like trying to step into a hot-spring but not being prepared for how warm it was. To him this place wasn’t as hot, if anything this made him feel like his mild ‘training’ paid off, still unknown that his body was just a lot more durable than it looked, in contrast to his fluffy nature.

“Okay, so the Gorons are around here somewhere, if I find them first they can lead me to the flower, if I find the flower I can high tail it back to the gate.”

He had no intention of staying here, lest he end up in some long standing conflict with someone or something he had no affiliation with prior. Basically he didn’t want a repeat of what happened in the rats town, but he knew in the end it was all for the greater good, so he would stay as long as need be.

Now, taking some steps forward Ricter began to head out on his travels. The weasel was equipped with his sword of course, some swimming trunks he had but never got to really use much, a short sheave shirt, a brown bag to transport the flower once he got his hands on it, and finally a pare of sunglasses just in case he wanted to stare at the lava for a while.

He would begin his hike around the lands in a similar way to how a nomad would view the land, he would search for places to maybe settle, places that weren't as hot and also sections of land that protected against random fire pillars springing up under him. Something very common here by the looks of it.

Passing by cave structures and even large separations in the earth he could guess they wouldn’t wish to go underground, even now he could feel the heated air existing a cave was he was currently near by. Making him wonder who would live down in there but maybe there was plenty that would wish to do so.

Hours would pass as he searched the lands for both the flower and the Gorons, his feet were beginning to hurt, being covered in black soot now making him groan as he flopped onto a rock and began wiping them off with a rag, maybe he should have wore shoes but he had a feeling unless they were made of metal they would melt from just walking around in this realm for too long.

Ricter was starting to get annoyed with the results of this, from rock formations to seeing large critters moving around the hellish land, even large worm like monsters that sprung up from the ground and spooked him once or twice with how sudden they were. He found nothing.

“Ugh this is stupid, no hints, not even a map could help me find these guys. Nor this flower, and I refuse to jump into some lava pit just to go looking for it!”

The mustelid was prone to talking to himself, a trait some people would find unattractive or just plain crazy, but for him it felt as normal as anything else he tends to do on his own. However as he finished and jumped up he heard the clinking of metal and armor near by, it was heading up the side of the mountain near the far side and when looking over a boulder he noticed whom it was, it seemed like a traveling band of adventurers clad in vibrant colored armor and wielding an assortment of weapons and even shields.

Who were they? Should I try interacting with them? Questions a normal person would ask but the stout was way too friendly for that right now, wishing nothing more than to at least get some advice or direction in this realm rather than aimlessly wonder around. Jumping up he climbed over a large boulder and would come towards them, waving.

“Hey!” He called out, causing the party to stop, most seemed humanoid in nature but just as he walked up he noticed one seemed to be a cat.

“Luis?” The weasel murmured under his breath at the small stature cat that stood on two feet, they reminded him of a friend of his but obviously they seemed more or less unaware of who he was so he shook it off. The leader, a man clad in scaled armor, resembling a breast of some kind they probably had slain would address him with a wave.

“Hello traveler, what brings you around here? You don't seem like your hunting for monsters, at least not in that garb.” The human pointed out, not wearing a helmet but his armor was cool enough not to bother with wearing one right now. It would probably only make covering his dashing good looks given it probably wasn’t needed right now.

“Yeah no, I’m actually looking for a flower of some kind, its a herb, its made to basically heal burns.” He took out his phone, showing the trio a picture of the flower he was looking for and hoping for some kind of direction as they moved in close and looked over it before shaking their heads.

“Sorry, beats me, actually have you seen any dragons on large behemoths around? We’ve had very little luck in finding them as of late. The gorgon’s said they were up around this mountain but we’ve yet to find even one today.” The leader asked which brought a frown to Ricters face, but it twisted into a smile at hearing about the Gorons.

“Nope, but I’m sure you will find one, um you mentioned Gorons just now, right? Mind pointing me towards their settlement?”

The man nodded and soon would point down the side of a ridge, off to the east, not too far away but far enough to take about an hour by foot if he walked there. “Near that ridge, they are staying in a camp, they didn’t quite enjoy us coming around but maybe you will have better lu-”

Just as he was finishing his statement a loud roar would rock the landscape, causing even Ricter to draw his sword, looking around. From the left a large dark scaled dragon would fly over head, wings flapping as they were headed past the group over head and up the mountain further, towards a cave that was hard to notice from a distance but soon the group of adventurers would smile and get prepared, holding their weapons.

“Sorry but we have to go now, good luck in finding your herb!”

“Good luck in fighting your dragon!” Ricter gave his response as he sheathed his sword, the trio lightly jogged up the side of the mountain, heading for their prize, in the mean time the stout headed for the ridge where he was to believe the Gorons stayed at for the time being. Probably bound to move eventually, however if he could find his herb in that time he would be happy to get this mission done sooner rather than later.]]>
The tone that Ricter gave off when speaking over the phone seemed fully confident in the skills he had in himself as he walked down the path way leading from Ambrosia towards one of the gates. He had been given some directions to head to a certain location and look for some kind of item, which he found to be interesting but more so he needed this item for a remedy Dr. Sorrel, a close friend of his, needed to make.

Over the phone a feminine voice would speak back to him, sounding unsure and worried but accepting of the fact that maybe it was best he did go on his own and not take someone else with him.

“I know, however I still can't help but worry. Just keep in touch and refer to the picture I sent you if you get confused. I need it to heal the eternal burns from the fire salamanders that stay in the mountains, but feel free to add the herb to your weapon too. Maybe you could even find a means of curing it.”

“Wait, that would just mean you’d have less patients!” The stout complained with a frown while Dr. Sorrel seemed to giggle on the other end of the call, snickering to his reaction and finding it pretty funny.

“Guess you found me out, however it would be a good skill to add too your list of abilities, you did wish to heal all manner of things, yes? Well burns are just something your bound to face.” A true statement, and so far he had been faced with them before, just he choose to heal them fully rather than mitigate the wound and allow for the nurses to finish the job. It took more effort and so he would simply admit defeat at least on that front.

“Fine, hopefully I can be back in maybe a day or two.”

“To hurry along your trip feel free to search for the Gorons, they are a nomadic people of that realm, in their travels I’m sure they ran into the flower a lot, they might be a bit cold at first but if your nice to them I’m sure they will let you come along with them on their travels and lead you strait to what your looking for. The other option is to look for one of King Bowsers underground kingdoms, however from rumors of the king I’d avoid that as much as possible.”

Ricter understood, though he didn’t know whom the Gorons were he would probably find out now. “Alright, thanks, I’ll keep you informed.” After saying their good byes he hung up and would be met with the large gate that seemed almost like a massive portal to some kind of sci-fi related world. Funny enough he knew full well there was something like that around, but this one looked like it lead to somewhere hot, which given descriptions of this place, it didn’t sound fun at all yet he stepped forward and placed his hand on the gate.

Walking strait through he seemed to go past an array of colors and lights, taking him from one point to the other as by the time he came out on the other side he was hit by a blast of heat. He had entered into the Ashen Steppes, a place of such volatile nature that barely anyone lived here, looking out over the landscape it was dark and mountainous.

Rivers of lava flowed in certain locations while a constant smog drifted over where he was in, making it hard to breath at first but he would be fine, the stout more than adapted himself for this mission. Mostly in the form of staying in the hot part of the house for a couple of hours a day, he was great at preparing.

Ahead was a path that lead into an open field, but the field seemed to have spouts of fire everywhere, making him frown as he had no clue where too look, all he was told that he should look in caves and any places with immense amounts of heat. Which just screamed ‘jump in the lava’ or ‘fight a monster inside a cave’.

In fact as he stepped forward onto the hot ground he jumped as the rocks were hot, which normally would leave burns on someone else instantly he just felt a soft sizzle, like trying to step into a hot-spring but not being prepared for how warm it was. To him this place wasn’t as hot, if anything this made him feel like his mild ‘training’ paid off, still unknown that his body was just a lot more durable than it looked, in contrast to his fluffy nature.

“Okay, so the Gorons are around here somewhere, if I find them first they can lead me to the flower, if I find the flower I can high tail it back to the gate.”

He had no intention of staying here, lest he end up in some long standing conflict with someone or something he had no affiliation with prior. Basically he didn’t want a repeat of what happened in the rats town, but he knew in the end it was all for the greater good, so he would stay as long as need be.

Now, taking some steps forward Ricter began to head out on his travels. The weasel was equipped with his sword of course, some swimming trunks he had but never got to really use much, a short sheave shirt, a brown bag to transport the flower once he got his hands on it, and finally a pare of sunglasses just in case he wanted to stare at the lava for a while.

He would begin his hike around the lands in a similar way to how a nomad would view the land, he would search for places to maybe settle, places that weren't as hot and also sections of land that protected against random fire pillars springing up under him. Something very common here by the looks of it.

Passing by cave structures and even large separations in the earth he could guess they wouldn’t wish to go underground, even now he could feel the heated air existing a cave was he was currently near by. Making him wonder who would live down in there but maybe there was plenty that would wish to do so.

Hours would pass as he searched the lands for both the flower and the Gorons, his feet were beginning to hurt, being covered in black soot now making him groan as he flopped onto a rock and began wiping them off with a rag, maybe he should have wore shoes but he had a feeling unless they were made of metal they would melt from just walking around in this realm for too long.

Ricter was starting to get annoyed with the results of this, from rock formations to seeing large critters moving around the hellish land, even large worm like monsters that sprung up from the ground and spooked him once or twice with how sudden they were. He found nothing.

“Ugh this is stupid, no hints, not even a map could help me find these guys. Nor this flower, and I refuse to jump into some lava pit just to go looking for it!”

The mustelid was prone to talking to himself, a trait some people would find unattractive or just plain crazy, but for him it felt as normal as anything else he tends to do on his own. However as he finished and jumped up he heard the clinking of metal and armor near by, it was heading up the side of the mountain near the far side and when looking over a boulder he noticed whom it was, it seemed like a traveling band of adventurers clad in vibrant colored armor and wielding an assortment of weapons and even shields.

Who were they? Should I try interacting with them? Questions a normal person would ask but the stout was way too friendly for that right now, wishing nothing more than to at least get some advice or direction in this realm rather than aimlessly wonder around. Jumping up he climbed over a large boulder and would come towards them, waving.

“Hey!” He called out, causing the party to stop, most seemed humanoid in nature but just as he walked up he noticed one seemed to be a cat.

“Luis?” The weasel murmured under his breath at the small stature cat that stood on two feet, they reminded him of a friend of his but obviously they seemed more or less unaware of who he was so he shook it off. The leader, a man clad in scaled armor, resembling a breast of some kind they probably had slain would address him with a wave.

“Hello traveler, what brings you around here? You don't seem like your hunting for monsters, at least not in that garb.” The human pointed out, not wearing a helmet but his armor was cool enough not to bother with wearing one right now. It would probably only make covering his dashing good looks given it probably wasn’t needed right now.

“Yeah no, I’m actually looking for a flower of some kind, its a herb, its made to basically heal burns.” He took out his phone, showing the trio a picture of the flower he was looking for and hoping for some kind of direction as they moved in close and looked over it before shaking their heads.

“Sorry, beats me, actually have you seen any dragons on large behemoths around? We’ve had very little luck in finding them as of late. The gorgon’s said they were up around this mountain but we’ve yet to find even one today.” The leader asked which brought a frown to Ricters face, but it twisted into a smile at hearing about the Gorons.

“Nope, but I’m sure you will find one, um you mentioned Gorons just now, right? Mind pointing me towards their settlement?”

The man nodded and soon would point down the side of a ridge, off to the east, not too far away but far enough to take about an hour by foot if he walked there. “Near that ridge, they are staying in a camp, they didn’t quite enjoy us coming around but maybe you will have better lu-”

Just as he was finishing his statement a loud roar would rock the landscape, causing even Ricter to draw his sword, looking around. From the left a large dark scaled dragon would fly over head, wings flapping as they were headed past the group over head and up the mountain further, towards a cave that was hard to notice from a distance but soon the group of adventurers would smile and get prepared, holding their weapons.

“Sorry but we have to go now, good luck in finding your herb!”

“Good luck in fighting your dragon!” Ricter gave his response as he sheathed his sword, the trio lightly jogged up the side of the mountain, heading for their prize, in the mean time the stout headed for the ridge where he was to believe the Gorons stayed at for the time being. Probably bound to move eventually, however if he could find his herb in that time he would be happy to get this mission done sooner rather than later.]]> <![CDATA[Lair Renovations Part 1]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7674 Sat, 14 Jul 2018 02:35:14 +0000 James Knight]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7674
After being prepared for the day, Jack went into the yet to be furnished kitchen, well one of the kitchens anyway. Jack had a frown on his face as he looked at the unfurnished areas of the base. Acquiring the materials by hand to make the furnishings of the place was not going to be easy. Perhaps he could take a shopping trip to the place where the white armored individuals were. There was bound to be a Walmart, or something there, that he could shop at for the numerous supplies he needed to furnish the base. Maybe he would even dig through the refuse of a junkyard for useful supplies if he had no other choice. Really though he was going to see his project of this place, fixed to the best of his ability. It was not going to be an easy task, and meant a lot of work for him in the future. Especially since he didn't have any Jackbots at present.]]>
After being prepared for the day, Jack went into the yet to be furnished kitchen, well one of the kitchens anyway. Jack had a frown on his face as he looked at the unfurnished areas of the base. Acquiring the materials by hand to make the furnishings of the place was not going to be easy. Perhaps he could take a shopping trip to the place where the white armored individuals were. There was bound to be a Walmart, or something there, that he could shop at for the numerous supplies he needed to furnish the base. Maybe he would even dig through the refuse of a junkyard for useful supplies if he had no other choice. Really though he was going to see his project of this place, fixed to the best of his ability. It was not going to be an easy task, and meant a lot of work for him in the future. Especially since he didn't have any Jackbots at present.]]> <![CDATA[Jack Spicer Evil Boy Genius: Part 1]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7661 Wed, 11 Jul 2018 03:46:18 +0000 James Knight]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7661
It was best if he was prepared for any such encounter. Certainly any civilized species had to have access to the internet, and if an internet existed, maps existed. If Maps existed, he could learn the lay of the land. Checking his pockets, he pulled out the cell phone he possessed. When he tried to power it on, it simply would not even connect to the internet, or make calls. Cursing the futility of the cell phone, Jack was tempted to break it, but stopped himself. It could be useful, if for nothing more than parts later. It was something, whereas previously he had thought he had nothing in this bleak and barren wasteland. While the place may have a sky the color of blood, and ash in the air, it was still better than the pure white place he had come from. A pure white place Jack did not wish to visit again any time soon, if he were to be honest. It was too harsh on the eyes. Maybe he'd return there once he had made some sunglasses for himself with suitable technology inside them. Some sort of scanning system, so he could learn the weaknesses, and strengths of the other Primes was a great idea.]]>
It was best if he was prepared for any such encounter. Certainly any civilized species had to have access to the internet, and if an internet existed, maps existed. If Maps existed, he could learn the lay of the land. Checking his pockets, he pulled out the cell phone he possessed. When he tried to power it on, it simply would not even connect to the internet, or make calls. Cursing the futility of the cell phone, Jack was tempted to break it, but stopped himself. It could be useful, if for nothing more than parts later. It was something, whereas previously he had thought he had nothing in this bleak and barren wasteland. While the place may have a sky the color of blood, and ash in the air, it was still better than the pure white place he had come from. A pure white place Jack did not wish to visit again any time soon, if he were to be honest. It was too harsh on the eyes. Maybe he'd return there once he had made some sunglasses for himself with suitable technology inside them. Some sort of scanning system, so he could learn the weaknesses, and strengths of the other Primes was a great idea.]]> <![CDATA[Two Koopas, One Wario]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7576 Sat, 23 Jun 2018 20:12:52 +0000 Wario]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7576
Wario instantly realized that he absolutely should have checked the signs before entering. This was a world of fire and ash. Wario's... unique physique meant that any sort of heat would be very unpleasant, indeed. The sweltering heat instantly drenched Wario's face with sweat and he felt his clothes starting to dampen already.

If Wario had any insight, he would have been worried about the state of his tires as they spun over the rough igneous rock of the Ashen Steppes. The relatively smooth path Wario had chosen was still bumpy from the cooled lava that froze mid-flow. In the distance, a giant volcano dominated the horizon, half of it split open and leaking like a cracked egg.

"Mamma-mia," Wario groaned, his words barely audible over the roar of his bike.

Wario had planned to ride aimlessly for a few minutes, when suddenly his bike jumped upwards, along with the squeak of a living creature. Wario shifted his weight accordingly, teeth gritted and eyes wide in surprise. The bike landed heavily on the craggy rock, miraculously still intact and carrying its passenger. Wario stopped the bike and hopped off. The fat man waddled over to where the bike had jumped. He wasn't concerned for the well-being of whatever he ran over, but in his experience, inciting incidents like these led to great treasure.

And he wasn't wrong. He had seemingly run over a Koopa Troopa, one of the ones from back home. Its shell was smashed to smithereens, but the turtle itself was still crawling around. The Troopa spat blood from its mouth and glared at Wario.

"Just my luck," the Koopa Troopa snarled, "I go looking – erk – looking for Apokalips Troopas and I find – cough – Wario."

"No need to sound disappointed, asshole," Wario cackled, stepping on the Troopa's trampled back with his foot. The turtle screamed as he did. “Is Bowser here? Seems like his kind of place. Very World 8.”

“Why should I tell you?”

“‘Cause I’m looking for work and if you tell me I won’t snap your back,” Wario cackled, “You remember how heavy I am, don’t you, Koopa?”

Wario put some more pressure on the turtle’s raw back, causing it to scream again.

“Okay, okay!” the Koopa Troopa wheezed, “I’ll tell you! Please, just stop!”

Wario lifted his foot and crossed his arms expectantly.

“He’s... he’s in the castle. To the north.”

“How far north?”

“Maybe 4 levels distance.”

“Levels?” Wario scowled. “Your king ain’t gonna throw me any of his welcome parties, is he?”

“Not if you bring me with you,” the turtle wheezed, pulling out a black and red flag from, well, frankly, who knew where Mushroom Kingdom creatures stored their things. “And this flag.”

Wario looked at him thoughtfully, before grinning widely again. If you were at Wario’s mercy, that was a smile you never wanted to see.

“Okay,” Wario smirked, then promptly threw his whole weight into an elbow slam.

***

Kevin Koopa grinned as he laid down his cards.

“Read it and weep, bitch,” Kevin chortled.

Kyle Koopa groaned and let his cards drop to the floor. He could never beat Kevin at cards. He wanted to just sit quietly for his shift, but noooo, Kevin wanted to play. What was more, the top platform of this guard tower was very tight, with just enough room for maybe three Koopa Troopas. It was awful enough that the tower was made of constantly hot stone, and captured all the sweltering heat into where they were. Now he was burning through his money too.

Kyle disdainfully tossed two coins at Kevin. The other Koopa continued to chuckle as he pocketed them.

“Something to do,” Kyle muttered as he looked away.

The tower was at least 60 feet in the air, and didn’t have much in the way of hand railings. The only way to get to the top was to climb the carved divots that the boss called a “ladder.” The inside of the tower was hollow, but Kevin could swear he heard something rumble every now and then. Kyle was less convinced. Who the hell would want to live in the towers?

Kevin’s eyes perked up at something. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Kevin stood up, listening.

“Uh uh, I’m not falling for that again. Last time you did this I chased my shell for two hours-“

“Shut the hell up, Kyle. I hear something.”

Kyle groaned and rose to his feet as Kevin drew his binoculars. Kevin scanned the horizons before his jaw dropped.

“What?” Kyle asked, visibly more nervous.

“Erm,” Kevin attempted, “I, uh... You should take a look.”

Kevin handed Kyle his binoculars, his gaze unmoving. Kyle snatched them and looked where Kevin had looked.

He saw an obscenely obese man dressed in yellow and purple riding a motorcycle almost equally as large. Red plumes of dust chased its large wheels.

“God dammit, it’s Wario,” Kyle groaned bitterly, setting down the binoculars. “How the hell did you even hear-“

“Would you keep fucking looking!” Kevin snapped.

“A’ight, chill,” Kyle replied, looking again.

Once again (after briefly losing sight of the bike), Kyle saw Wario on his motorcycle. Badly attached to his handlebars, flapping in the red ash of the Steppes, was a black flag with the red outline of His Majesty’s head.

“Where the fuck did he get...”

Kyle peered more closely and noticed a rope tied around Wario’s engorged belly. As the bike jolted on the rough earth, a familiar Koopa’s unconscious face slid out from behind him.

“Is that Kenny?” Kyle exclaimed.

“Wait, Kenny? Gimme that.”

Kevin snatched the binoculars from Kyle and looked through. After a few seconds, he lowered the binoculars.

“Oh my God, he killed Kenny!”

"Blow the fucking horn, Kevin!" Kyle hollered, grabbing his flare gun.

Kevin dashed over to the giant horn perched at the top of the tower. He breathed in deeply and loudly, then blew into the horn. After an awkward second where the horn didn't make a sound except for amplified exhaling, the horn bellowed a note into the crimson skies. Meanwhile, Kyle fired the flare gun upwards, a bolt of blue light and smoke clashing against the red and grey ash clouds.

***

Wario had heard a loud horn earlier. He had ignored it. That was a poor choice.

A line of a dozen green-shelled Koopa Troopas were holding spears forward, completely blocking the path. As if that could injure Wario. Still, it would probably do some damage to his bike, and that would be a hassle. Wario growled as he jerked the bike to the side, sliding it and grinding the stone underneath into fine red dust.

"The fuck do you want?" Wario shouted.

From between the green-shelled soldiers marched forth a red-shelled Koopa Troopa. It had a long scar on its beak, visible even to Wario from his bike meters away.

"You seem to have killed one of ours," the red Koopa said, his voice deep and lordly, "That cannot stand. Get off the vehicle and surrender immediately in the name of His Burning Majesty, the Koopa King-"

"I don't wanna," Wario shouted back.

The red Koopa Troopa's jaw tightened irritably.

"Then we will be forced to apprehend you and bring you in for-"

"Wait, you arresting me for this one?" Wario yelled, pointing backwards with his thumb at the very dead Koopa Troopa, "I didn't kill him. It was an Apoka-whatever Troopa."

The red Troopa sneered. "You expect us to believe that the Apokalips Troopas killed a fine soldier like Kenny Koopa?"

"It was the last of them," Wario asserted, "They're all dead now, I guess. Good ol' Kenny here died fighting them."

"The Apokalips Troopas are all dead," the commander shouted back.

Wario pulled out the picture that he found on "Kenny".

"I don't fucking know, I’m new here. He said he was hunting them and offered a reward for helping. He died in battle, but so did the other exploding fuckers. Where's my reward?"

The wall of Koopa Troopas shuffled uncomfortably and started whispering. The Apokalips Troopas were still alive? The red Koopa Troopa raised his hand to quiet them.

"This seems more complicated than I expected," he said, "I should take you to His Burning Majesty."

"Where is the fucker, anyway?" Wario chortled.

The red Koopa Troopa scowled. "His Burning Majesty is in Castle Seven Dash Eight. One of our scouts can accompany you-"

"No thanks," Wario said, kicking the pedal of his bike. It roared to life, and the wall of Troopas broke in half to make way for his outrageous motorcycle.

The red Koopa Troopa sighed. He had heard Luigi was in the Omniverse not too long ago. He wished he stayed. At least Luigi was polite when he massacred them.

Quote:1549/5000 words.

- Get an assignment from Bowser
- Meet partner/rival
- Do the assignment before rival
- ???
- Profit
]]>
Wario instantly realized that he absolutely should have checked the signs before entering. This was a world of fire and ash. Wario's... unique physique meant that any sort of heat would be very unpleasant, indeed. The sweltering heat instantly drenched Wario's face with sweat and he felt his clothes starting to dampen already.

If Wario had any insight, he would have been worried about the state of his tires as they spun over the rough igneous rock of the Ashen Steppes. The relatively smooth path Wario had chosen was still bumpy from the cooled lava that froze mid-flow. In the distance, a giant volcano dominated the horizon, half of it split open and leaking like a cracked egg.

"Mamma-mia," Wario groaned, his words barely audible over the roar of his bike.

Wario had planned to ride aimlessly for a few minutes, when suddenly his bike jumped upwards, along with the squeak of a living creature. Wario shifted his weight accordingly, teeth gritted and eyes wide in surprise. The bike landed heavily on the craggy rock, miraculously still intact and carrying its passenger. Wario stopped the bike and hopped off. The fat man waddled over to where the bike had jumped. He wasn't concerned for the well-being of whatever he ran over, but in his experience, inciting incidents like these led to great treasure.

And he wasn't wrong. He had seemingly run over a Koopa Troopa, one of the ones from back home. Its shell was smashed to smithereens, but the turtle itself was still crawling around. The Troopa spat blood from its mouth and glared at Wario.

"Just my luck," the Koopa Troopa snarled, "I go looking – erk – looking for Apokalips Troopas and I find – cough – Wario."

"No need to sound disappointed, asshole," Wario cackled, stepping on the Troopa's trampled back with his foot. The turtle screamed as he did. “Is Bowser here? Seems like his kind of place. Very World 8.”

“Why should I tell you?”

“‘Cause I’m looking for work and if you tell me I won’t snap your back,” Wario cackled, “You remember how heavy I am, don’t you, Koopa?”

Wario put some more pressure on the turtle’s raw back, causing it to scream again.

“Okay, okay!” the Koopa Troopa wheezed, “I’ll tell you! Please, just stop!”

Wario lifted his foot and crossed his arms expectantly.

“He’s... he’s in the castle. To the north.”

“How far north?”

“Maybe 4 levels distance.”

“Levels?” Wario scowled. “Your king ain’t gonna throw me any of his welcome parties, is he?”

“Not if you bring me with you,” the turtle wheezed, pulling out a black and red flag from, well, frankly, who knew where Mushroom Kingdom creatures stored their things. “And this flag.”

Wario looked at him thoughtfully, before grinning widely again. If you were at Wario’s mercy, that was a smile you never wanted to see.

“Okay,” Wario smirked, then promptly threw his whole weight into an elbow slam.

***

Kevin Koopa grinned as he laid down his cards.

“Read it and weep, bitch,” Kevin chortled.

Kyle Koopa groaned and let his cards drop to the floor. He could never beat Kevin at cards. He wanted to just sit quietly for his shift, but noooo, Kevin wanted to play. What was more, the top platform of this guard tower was very tight, with just enough room for maybe three Koopa Troopas. It was awful enough that the tower was made of constantly hot stone, and captured all the sweltering heat into where they were. Now he was burning through his money too.

Kyle disdainfully tossed two coins at Kevin. The other Koopa continued to chuckle as he pocketed them.

“Something to do,” Kyle muttered as he looked away.

The tower was at least 60 feet in the air, and didn’t have much in the way of hand railings. The only way to get to the top was to climb the carved divots that the boss called a “ladder.” The inside of the tower was hollow, but Kevin could swear he heard something rumble every now and then. Kyle was less convinced. Who the hell would want to live in the towers?

Kevin’s eyes perked up at something. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Kevin stood up, listening.

“Uh uh, I’m not falling for that again. Last time you did this I chased my shell for two hours-“

“Shut the hell up, Kyle. I hear something.”

Kyle groaned and rose to his feet as Kevin drew his binoculars. Kevin scanned the horizons before his jaw dropped.

“What?” Kyle asked, visibly more nervous.

“Erm,” Kevin attempted, “I, uh... You should take a look.”

Kevin handed Kyle his binoculars, his gaze unmoving. Kyle snatched them and looked where Kevin had looked.

He saw an obscenely obese man dressed in yellow and purple riding a motorcycle almost equally as large. Red plumes of dust chased its large wheels.

“God dammit, it’s Wario,” Kyle groaned bitterly, setting down the binoculars. “How the hell did you even hear-“

“Would you keep fucking looking!” Kevin snapped.

“A’ight, chill,” Kyle replied, looking again.

Once again (after briefly losing sight of the bike), Kyle saw Wario on his motorcycle. Badly attached to his handlebars, flapping in the red ash of the Steppes, was a black flag with the red outline of His Majesty’s head.

“Where the fuck did he get...”

Kyle peered more closely and noticed a rope tied around Wario’s engorged belly. As the bike jolted on the rough earth, a familiar Koopa’s unconscious face slid out from behind him.

“Is that Kenny?” Kyle exclaimed.

“Wait, Kenny? Gimme that.”

Kevin snatched the binoculars from Kyle and looked through. After a few seconds, he lowered the binoculars.

“Oh my God, he killed Kenny!”

"Blow the fucking horn, Kevin!" Kyle hollered, grabbing his flare gun.

Kevin dashed over to the giant horn perched at the top of the tower. He breathed in deeply and loudly, then blew into the horn. After an awkward second where the horn didn't make a sound except for amplified exhaling, the horn bellowed a note into the crimson skies. Meanwhile, Kyle fired the flare gun upwards, a bolt of blue light and smoke clashing against the red and grey ash clouds.

***

Wario had heard a loud horn earlier. He had ignored it. That was a poor choice.

A line of a dozen green-shelled Koopa Troopas were holding spears forward, completely blocking the path. As if that could injure Wario. Still, it would probably do some damage to his bike, and that would be a hassle. Wario growled as he jerked the bike to the side, sliding it and grinding the stone underneath into fine red dust.

"The fuck do you want?" Wario shouted.

From between the green-shelled soldiers marched forth a red-shelled Koopa Troopa. It had a long scar on its beak, visible even to Wario from his bike meters away.

"You seem to have killed one of ours," the red Koopa said, his voice deep and lordly, "That cannot stand. Get off the vehicle and surrender immediately in the name of His Burning Majesty, the Koopa King-"

"I don't wanna," Wario shouted back.

The red Koopa Troopa's jaw tightened irritably.

"Then we will be forced to apprehend you and bring you in for-"

"Wait, you arresting me for this one?" Wario yelled, pointing backwards with his thumb at the very dead Koopa Troopa, "I didn't kill him. It was an Apoka-whatever Troopa."

The red Troopa sneered. "You expect us to believe that the Apokalips Troopas killed a fine soldier like Kenny Koopa?"

"It was the last of them," Wario asserted, "They're all dead now, I guess. Good ol' Kenny here died fighting them."

"The Apokalips Troopas are all dead," the commander shouted back.

Wario pulled out the picture that he found on "Kenny".

"I don't fucking know, I’m new here. He said he was hunting them and offered a reward for helping. He died in battle, but so did the other exploding fuckers. Where's my reward?"

The wall of Koopa Troopas shuffled uncomfortably and started whispering. The Apokalips Troopas were still alive? The red Koopa Troopa raised his hand to quiet them.

"This seems more complicated than I expected," he said, "I should take you to His Burning Majesty."

"Where is the fucker, anyway?" Wario chortled.

The red Koopa Troopa scowled. "His Burning Majesty is in Castle Seven Dash Eight. One of our scouts can accompany you-"

"No thanks," Wario said, kicking the pedal of his bike. It roared to life, and the wall of Troopas broke in half to make way for his outrageous motorcycle.

The red Koopa Troopa sighed. He had heard Luigi was in the Omniverse not too long ago. He wished he stayed. At least Luigi was polite when he massacred them.

Quote:1549/5000 words.

- Get an assignment from Bowser
- Meet partner/rival
- Do the assignment before rival
- ???
- Profit
]]> <![CDATA[Volcanic Meeting]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7382 Sun, 20 May 2018 07:09:59 +0000 Asura]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7382
Asura continued his trek through the wastes, climbing past the mountains, jumping from ledge to ledge like a humanoid goat. But even in doing so, he was irked. Normally he would be able to just ignore the mountain all together, go over or around it. Instead he was forced to climb just due to his body's new limitations. He frequently strained to jump higher, and his body just refused to cooperate. No matter how hard he pushed himself, it just REFUSED to do as he wished! The more he climbed, the more frustrated he became with his limitations. How?! How had he become so weak?! He had learned control over his power, and now he couldn't even use it!

"DAMN IT ALL!"

As he squeezed through a choke he had found to finally get out of climbing this mountain and return to walking, he slammed his fist into the wall as hard as he could, and was infuriated to find it hadn't even cracked. Clenching his teeth, he removed his hand and continued his walk. This choke was surprisingly long... Perhaps a small stream had flown through here long ago. Assuming it had not simply been created such anyway. It took a bit, but eventually he made it through to the other side, and was greeted by something he wasn't expecting.

As he finally escaped the tight squeeze... A ball of lava was flying straight towards his face. His eyes widened as he ducked down, making a roll forward to avoid the sudden projectile. He glanced back at it, taking notice of the molten rock as the viscous fluid dripped down the side, before looking in the direction it came from. There he saw a group he couldn't quite make out standing before a... Giant lava rock? His face screwed up as though a clown had suddenly presented itself to him. He wasn't aware of it at the time, but this was an Igneo Talus.

Deciding this had gone on long enough, Asura let out a roar as he rushed in, Mantra pouring into his arms. HE WOULD DO SOME DAMAGE IF IT WAS THE LAST THING H E DID, DAMNIT! With a jump his arms began to take on a golden glow, before he slammed his fist right into the lava rock's non existent face, and for just a moment, took the chance to smirk when he saw the cracks spiderweb upon its face. Success... The cracks were small, but noticeable. Asura fell to the ground in front of the group, as he arms became a sudden dark black with red cracks. Damn overheat...

"GET BACK." From the near growl in his voice, it didn't sound like he would be taking no for an answer, from whoever it was anyway.]]>
Asura continued his trek through the wastes, climbing past the mountains, jumping from ledge to ledge like a humanoid goat. But even in doing so, he was irked. Normally he would be able to just ignore the mountain all together, go over or around it. Instead he was forced to climb just due to his body's new limitations. He frequently strained to jump higher, and his body just refused to cooperate. No matter how hard he pushed himself, it just REFUSED to do as he wished! The more he climbed, the more frustrated he became with his limitations. How?! How had he become so weak?! He had learned control over his power, and now he couldn't even use it!

"DAMN IT ALL!"

As he squeezed through a choke he had found to finally get out of climbing this mountain and return to walking, he slammed his fist into the wall as hard as he could, and was infuriated to find it hadn't even cracked. Clenching his teeth, he removed his hand and continued his walk. This choke was surprisingly long... Perhaps a small stream had flown through here long ago. Assuming it had not simply been created such anyway. It took a bit, but eventually he made it through to the other side, and was greeted by something he wasn't expecting.

As he finally escaped the tight squeeze... A ball of lava was flying straight towards his face. His eyes widened as he ducked down, making a roll forward to avoid the sudden projectile. He glanced back at it, taking notice of the molten rock as the viscous fluid dripped down the side, before looking in the direction it came from. There he saw a group he couldn't quite make out standing before a... Giant lava rock? His face screwed up as though a clown had suddenly presented itself to him. He wasn't aware of it at the time, but this was an Igneo Talus.

Deciding this had gone on long enough, Asura let out a roar as he rushed in, Mantra pouring into his arms. HE WOULD DO SOME DAMAGE IF IT WAS THE LAST THING H E DID, DAMNIT! With a jump his arms began to take on a golden glow, before he slammed his fist right into the lava rock's non existent face, and for just a moment, took the chance to smirk when he saw the cracks spiderweb upon its face. Success... The cracks were small, but noticeable. Asura fell to the ground in front of the group, as he arms became a sudden dark black with red cracks. Damn overheat...

"GET BACK." From the near growl in his voice, it didn't sound like he would be taking no for an answer, from whoever it was anyway.]]> <![CDATA[Te Kirika Makariri]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7001 Sun, 06 May 2018 23:02:28 +0000 Kopaka]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7001
At the moment, Kopaka was trying to assess what, exactly, had drawn him to this particular verse instead of the much more comfortable climes of the Frozen Fields. The Toa had always considered himself to be an extremely self-assured sort of person, well-versed in the bylaws and tenants of his personal ethos. It was this darkness, this inexpungeable taint that had wrapped itself around his mind and soul. With a pop-hiss, Kopaka wrenched the Kanohi away from the sore, metal laced flesh of his face. The Great Mask had become deeply, irrevocably pitted and rusty since his time in the Omniverse. Kopaka's memories of his homeworld were hazy, at best, but he knew clearly enough what the corrosion meant.

Darkness.

What a limited word for a complex concept. This was no vulgar unlight that had destroyed his identity. Darkness was a much more profound thing. It was an oppressive feeling of restlessness borne of self-hatred. The constant compulsion to excel all comers and be the very best, because if that was achieved, maybe the pain of personal scorn would be dampened. At the same time, Kopaka did not think that he clung to the vainglorious hopes of one-day reaching a level of balmy acclaim. Whatever.

The Toa tossed his beloved mask of power into the rusty dust underfoot and glowered down at it for a few moments. He sighed softly, knelt down, and replaced the mask back on his face.

He knew he had become a monster. The exact sort of bloodthirsty beast that a Toa was designed to kill. But this Darkness was not a disease that was caught externally. The bolus of tenebrous hatred had been growing within his armored breast for almost...what was it...a year now? Who could say, within this damned Omniverse. It had started with his shameful display at the Camelot Colosseum, and after becoming desperate to prove himself to his imperial masters he had been desperate to hunt down and slay the Prime known as Mickey Mouse. He had failed there as well. Failure, it seemed, was endemic to his identity here. Having only vague memories of his home universe made the situation all the more worse, and while he certainly got the occasional throb of satisfaction from killing any one of his pesky fellow Primes, it was a high that passed all too quickly.

What then was he to do? This had been the primary question that had been plaguing his mind for the past few hours as he trudged along the shredded, black earth. The incessant plodding of metallic feet in the obsidian grit and rattling grind of the Ice Sword came to a halt as he mounted the crest of a small ridge. A sudden blast of volcanic wind tore the weathered hood away from his Kanohi, and the dull red light of the Steppes midday highlighted every pock and dent on the muddy patina. An immense caldera stretched before him, encompassing what had to be at least ten miles of churning, active basin. Unlike the rest of the Ashen Steppes, this igneous depression was...colorful. Pools of acidic water cast scintillations of indigo and turquoise at their centers, which faded to lime green and yellow where the sulfur and bacteria has grown at the edges.

Small monoliths of white, calcified stone rose a meter here, ten meters there, into the foggy air. Intermittent splashes of boiling water scattered up against these pale stands, sending small flights of birds scattering each time. Clouds of brine flies hovered just inches above the lethal surface of the water, and enormous, lazy lizards lapped at them with sticky tongues over a yard in length. There, not more than a thousand yards to the northeast, an encroaching morass sticky, shiny lava advanced in wrinkled sheets of orange and silver. Father still, barely visible through the haze and ash, was a fountain of lava, boiling out of a rift in the caldera's wall and spilling out into the expanse. The vaulted sky overhead was a mix of tangerine and scarlet hues, with dark thunderheads gathering in the far west. Arcs of purple lightning illuminated the bruised clouds, briefly hinting at the truly massive scale of the entire geometeorlogical display.

Kopaka dropped his sword, his shield, his mask, and allowed the cloak to flutter away in the heated wind. There, effectively naked, he sat down on the embankment and took the scene in through uncovered optics. Mucus and ichor created a filmy sheen across the interwoven mechanics and biology of the Toa's true face, serving as a proper indicator that it was not the corrupted Kanohi that was the source of darkness. Still, in spite of it all, the utter turmoil of this vista, Kopaka felt...comfortable. Slowly, his eyes shifted back to their normal, blue coloration.

Clarity.

Was that the only thing he had to gain from isolation? Was it only here, completely removed from the workings and machinations of other minds, that he could return to his proper senses? Kopaka uttered a self-deprecating scoff, the closest noise he ever made to laughing, and rolled a jagged rock around on the ground with one hand.

The biomech began to ponder for a long, long time.]]>
At the moment, Kopaka was trying to assess what, exactly, had drawn him to this particular verse instead of the much more comfortable climes of the Frozen Fields. The Toa had always considered himself to be an extremely self-assured sort of person, well-versed in the bylaws and tenants of his personal ethos. It was this darkness, this inexpungeable taint that had wrapped itself around his mind and soul. With a pop-hiss, Kopaka wrenched the Kanohi away from the sore, metal laced flesh of his face. The Great Mask had become deeply, irrevocably pitted and rusty since his time in the Omniverse. Kopaka's memories of his homeworld were hazy, at best, but he knew clearly enough what the corrosion meant.

Darkness.

What a limited word for a complex concept. This was no vulgar unlight that had destroyed his identity. Darkness was a much more profound thing. It was an oppressive feeling of restlessness borne of self-hatred. The constant compulsion to excel all comers and be the very best, because if that was achieved, maybe the pain of personal scorn would be dampened. At the same time, Kopaka did not think that he clung to the vainglorious hopes of one-day reaching a level of balmy acclaim. Whatever.

The Toa tossed his beloved mask of power into the rusty dust underfoot and glowered down at it for a few moments. He sighed softly, knelt down, and replaced the mask back on his face.

He knew he had become a monster. The exact sort of bloodthirsty beast that a Toa was designed to kill. But this Darkness was not a disease that was caught externally. The bolus of tenebrous hatred had been growing within his armored breast for almost...what was it...a year now? Who could say, within this damned Omniverse. It had started with his shameful display at the Camelot Colosseum, and after becoming desperate to prove himself to his imperial masters he had been desperate to hunt down and slay the Prime known as Mickey Mouse. He had failed there as well. Failure, it seemed, was endemic to his identity here. Having only vague memories of his home universe made the situation all the more worse, and while he certainly got the occasional throb of satisfaction from killing any one of his pesky fellow Primes, it was a high that passed all too quickly.

What then was he to do? This had been the primary question that had been plaguing his mind for the past few hours as he trudged along the shredded, black earth. The incessant plodding of metallic feet in the obsidian grit and rattling grind of the Ice Sword came to a halt as he mounted the crest of a small ridge. A sudden blast of volcanic wind tore the weathered hood away from his Kanohi, and the dull red light of the Steppes midday highlighted every pock and dent on the muddy patina. An immense caldera stretched before him, encompassing what had to be at least ten miles of churning, active basin. Unlike the rest of the Ashen Steppes, this igneous depression was...colorful. Pools of acidic water cast scintillations of indigo and turquoise at their centers, which faded to lime green and yellow where the sulfur and bacteria has grown at the edges.

Small monoliths of white, calcified stone rose a meter here, ten meters there, into the foggy air. Intermittent splashes of boiling water scattered up against these pale stands, sending small flights of birds scattering each time. Clouds of brine flies hovered just inches above the lethal surface of the water, and enormous, lazy lizards lapped at them with sticky tongues over a yard in length. There, not more than a thousand yards to the northeast, an encroaching morass sticky, shiny lava advanced in wrinkled sheets of orange and silver. Father still, barely visible through the haze and ash, was a fountain of lava, boiling out of a rift in the caldera's wall and spilling out into the expanse. The vaulted sky overhead was a mix of tangerine and scarlet hues, with dark thunderheads gathering in the far west. Arcs of purple lightning illuminated the bruised clouds, briefly hinting at the truly massive scale of the entire geometeorlogical display.

Kopaka dropped his sword, his shield, his mask, and allowed the cloak to flutter away in the heated wind. There, effectively naked, he sat down on the embankment and took the scene in through uncovered optics. Mucus and ichor created a filmy sheen across the interwoven mechanics and biology of the Toa's true face, serving as a proper indicator that it was not the corrupted Kanohi that was the source of darkness. Still, in spite of it all, the utter turmoil of this vista, Kopaka felt...comfortable. Slowly, his eyes shifted back to their normal, blue coloration.

Clarity.

Was that the only thing he had to gain from isolation? Was it only here, completely removed from the workings and machinations of other minds, that he could return to his proper senses? Kopaka uttered a self-deprecating scoff, the closest noise he ever made to laughing, and rolled a jagged rock around on the ground with one hand.

The biomech began to ponder for a long, long time.]]> <![CDATA[A Raging Inferno]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=6242 Fri, 20 Apr 2018 03:23:44 +0000 James Knight]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=6242
For now though he was going to tackle his problems one at a time. Approaching the area near the gate of the Nexus where Ransom4u was, Warren materialized the Yandere Hater 9000 in one hand and strapped it to his back. It was official. He was done playing nice with people who attempted to scam him out of his hard earned Omnilium. Wasting 1000 Omnilium had cut him down significantly - and set his plans back a lot. Originally he had been saving that OM for his new base in the Dunes. So yes, he was going to exact revenge.]]>
For now though he was going to tackle his problems one at a time. Approaching the area near the gate of the Nexus where Ransom4u was, Warren materialized the Yandere Hater 9000 in one hand and strapped it to his back. It was official. He was done playing nice with people who attempted to scam him out of his hard earned Omnilium. Wasting 1000 Omnilium had cut him down significantly - and set his plans back a lot. Originally he had been saving that OM for his new base in the Dunes. So yes, he was going to exact revenge.]]> <![CDATA[...It's a Fire World]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=3363 Wed, 11 Apr 2018 00:32:57 +0000 Viola]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=3363 Quote:Trying out a few writing styles here. So my next post or so might be inconsistent until I settle down. That includes the general tone I'm using for Viola.
I cling loosely to Kumoko as we plunge through the gate, instantly greeted by a harsh heat battering down upon us. The ground is black, sodden with ash, and looking up doesn't yield any sight of the sun, giving the new world a subterranean feel. I cough. The acidic sulfur from the air ravaging my lungs mixes with the lingering speckles of blood at the back of my throat. My body lurches, and before I can brace against it, tremors run down my arms threatening to break my grip.

Clenching, I try my best to maintain my grasp. Muscles strain. Still weak.

I could learn every magical trick in the book, but nothing will ever fix my vitality - from what I remember. Much of my repertoire is missing, but some is slowly coming back. Stop time. Loop time. Warp time. All utility - nothing potent. At least I still have my swords. Steel is reliable, even when spawned by magic. I'm sure, once I've healed and recovered, I'll have progressed far enough towards my former strength to defeat the clown. It'll be dead soon enough, however, so I intend to leave It behind me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I recall those events. Its claws piercing me. Its teeth chomping down. The many times I died.

Shuddering involuntarily, I find myself falling for a split second.

Kumoko shifts beneath me, compensating for my weakness as her many legs scuttle over the hot rocky floor (she's pink, so my assumption of her gender is as good a guess as any - better than referring to her as an object, a thing, an It).

"Thanks." My voice is breathy but still as tranquil as always, not as raspy as one might expect. The tear stains on my cheeks have dried, leaving my skin unblemished, pale, yet not as ghostlike as when I was more deprived of blood.

The skin around my stump has closed under the makeshift bandage, but it's too sticky for me to take off. I can survive without a hand for a time, but it would make things difficult. Faint tingles run over my nerves, and I can almost see a silhouette in the corner of my eye. It extends from my loose blood-soaked sleeve. I wiggle those fingers, but feel nothing, and see nothing when I humour the delusions. Only an everpresent fuzz - like electrical static - as if an alien being is caressing my missing limb.

It is uncomfortable.

Kumoko spins around while my breathing adjusts to the climate, and regrettably caused by some of my thoughts. The particulates in the air irritate my eyes, but I manage to create a weak filtration spell to prevent any further discomfort. I blink. Smoke was bad, but this was much worse. The terrain only looked more treacherous deeper into the world. 

Was anyone living her? There was a flat land near the fountain, would it not be more suitable to build a house there?

Perhaps, I consider, everyone is simply underground. A tropical paradise hidden by a smoldering ceiling. I have seen many climates, but nothing like this. Volcanos and mountain ranges? Yes. Anything as hellish as the place? No.

On a different day, I might have found myself taking samples, or protecting someone else as they did. That didn't matter now. So many years of research left behind. All on topic for the betterment of the realm, rather than my own interests. 

Consciously, I force myself to shrug. I don't know if that's the correct reaction, or if I should act in any way at all, but I want to be expressive. Loss is a rather dull feeling to me. It is hard to become attached to something when you know one day it will fade away.

I look down at the spider, about to mention that it might be better to try our luck elsewhere. She is fast. The clown is occupied, or dead, we would be fine. I don't want to push my luck - but I am a slow walker. It is unlikely I could ever match Kumoko's pace on foot, so she may have to carry me everywhere. If she is unable to travel here, it would be best to retrace our steps and take another path.

Yet, before I do speak, she shakes her head, spins around, and merrily speeds off away from the archway. If she could talk, I imagine she would be humming. She strikes me as a happy individual, but that could just be my mind projecting what I want to see upon her. Regardless, Kumoko is trustworthy, and while my predicament is less limited, we both have our troubles expressing ourselves.

I take a shallow breath while my eyes strategically examine the surroundings, scrutinisingly noting every little detail. Many I forget within seconds. The dark sky shifts, revealing a sliver of orange over the far horizon. Any shadows it painted were invisible among the dark terrain, with lava pools and veins casting their own focused glow.

We travel for some time, but I make no noticeable progress healing my hand. A sliver of strength flows through my body, however. Enough to lift a small rock, and maybe even throw it. I wouldn't count on that. My warm magic fizzles down my spine, soothing and comforting, contrasting the unrelenting heat with a much more welcoming embrace. In comparison, it makes the burning air seem less intense. Tolerable, even. I don't want to get used to it.

Notably, the odd spread crushed rocks lay in wave besides our path, signifying that others may have ridden here before. Perhaps on horseback, or by carriage. Or, worryingly, maybe they were large enough to crush the stones themselves.

I have no wish to turn every meeting into a hostile encounter, but I must be wary. Kumoko could have eaten me. Power may be at my disposal, but that doesn't mean I can drop my guard around others. My foresight is unreliable and fails to give enough warning to prepare myself adequately against a skilled opponent. It is a tool. Not a crutch.

And Kumoko is a friend. Not a tool.

This is a new world, one I have no obligation to assist in its development, or sustainability. I want to be young, not to look down on others because of my years. We're all equals here, pulled in together.

Which leaves a dilemma.

What do I do?

Or, what do I want to do?

If there are many others, they have factions, allegiances, and probably enemies too.

I'm certain I can prove useful, should my looks not hold weight on their opinion. Escaping an orphanage is not something I wish to do any time soon. But, it does provide some safety. In my experience, many are reluctant to kill a young girl, even if they know her looks are deceiving. Nothing to rely on, but something that could prove useful.

A girl and her pink spider friend. An intelligent pink spider. Like a fantasy adventure novel.

Ruling. Leadership. It was a strain. Many monarchies have been my puppets. Dressed up faces dancing to my plans. A quiet life would be unsuitable, also. I want to do things. See things. Something new. Danger is inevitable.

But first.

"We can rest."

I try to balance, pointing a finger towards a dark cave. Enhancing my reactions, I shift in slow motion. Time crawls, and with perfect precision I lean, twitching my weak muscles to stay balanced with no hands. The focus I dedicate to my simple stunt is a testament to my limited physical capabilities. I have ridden ponies with saddles. Kumoko's body is not naturally suited for riding, it will take some getting used to. I can learn. I want to learn. I'm riding a pink intelligent spider. After eight hundred years, I don't get many 'firsts' anymore. Good firsts, anyway. 

The future intrigues me. For a moment, I wish I could throw away my years. That I could have come here as a little girl. A real little girl. Youthful. Happy. Energetic. Wishful, with ideas and ideals for her fate. Like the little me back at the orphanage, before she learned how special she was. Or the more matured, but still playful, girl at the church. A magical novice, weak but unyielding. Longing to one day gain a taste of adventure.

They would have died to the clown.

Time resumes as normal. My magical crutch doesn't drain much energy, leaving me confident in my abilities.

Kumoko nods and scuttles forwards. Her movements are a little odd as if she's playing a game of 'don't step on the cracks'. I pay it no mind, assuming her legs are simply frail. I would hope we're not walking on a proverbial field of landmines.

My mana hisses, expelling out of my good hand and moulding into a fresh steel blade. Kumoko glances back up at me, hearing the noise. I try to smile back, to assure her I am merely using the swords blue glow as a torch, but it comes across as grim - like I'm expecting a fight.

Steadying herself, Kumoko renews her trot, fangs barred as she plunges us both into the near-darkness.]]> Quote:Trying out a few writing styles here. So my next post or so might be inconsistent until I settle down. That includes the general tone I'm using for Viola.
I cling loosely to Kumoko as we plunge through the gate, instantly greeted by a harsh heat battering down upon us. The ground is black, sodden with ash, and looking up doesn't yield any sight of the sun, giving the new world a subterranean feel. I cough. The acidic sulfur from the air ravaging my lungs mixes with the lingering speckles of blood at the back of my throat. My body lurches, and before I can brace against it, tremors run down my arms threatening to break my grip.

Clenching, I try my best to maintain my grasp. Muscles strain. Still weak.

I could learn every magical trick in the book, but nothing will ever fix my vitality - from what I remember. Much of my repertoire is missing, but some is slowly coming back. Stop time. Loop time. Warp time. All utility - nothing potent. At least I still have my swords. Steel is reliable, even when spawned by magic. I'm sure, once I've healed and recovered, I'll have progressed far enough towards my former strength to defeat the clown. It'll be dead soon enough, however, so I intend to leave It behind me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I recall those events. Its claws piercing me. Its teeth chomping down. The many times I died.

Shuddering involuntarily, I find myself falling for a split second.

Kumoko shifts beneath me, compensating for my weakness as her many legs scuttle over the hot rocky floor (she's pink, so my assumption of her gender is as good a guess as any - better than referring to her as an object, a thing, an It).

"Thanks." My voice is breathy but still as tranquil as always, not as raspy as one might expect. The tear stains on my cheeks have dried, leaving my skin unblemished, pale, yet not as ghostlike as when I was more deprived of blood.

The skin around my stump has closed under the makeshift bandage, but it's too sticky for me to take off. I can survive without a hand for a time, but it would make things difficult. Faint tingles run over my nerves, and I can almost see a silhouette in the corner of my eye. It extends from my loose blood-soaked sleeve. I wiggle those fingers, but feel nothing, and see nothing when I humour the delusions. Only an everpresent fuzz - like electrical static - as if an alien being is caressing my missing limb.

It is uncomfortable.

Kumoko spins around while my breathing adjusts to the climate, and regrettably caused by some of my thoughts. The particulates in the air irritate my eyes, but I manage to create a weak filtration spell to prevent any further discomfort. I blink. Smoke was bad, but this was much worse. The terrain only looked more treacherous deeper into the world. 

Was anyone living her? There was a flat land near the fountain, would it not be more suitable to build a house there?

Perhaps, I consider, everyone is simply underground. A tropical paradise hidden by a smoldering ceiling. I have seen many climates, but nothing like this. Volcanos and mountain ranges? Yes. Anything as hellish as the place? No.

On a different day, I might have found myself taking samples, or protecting someone else as they did. That didn't matter now. So many years of research left behind. All on topic for the betterment of the realm, rather than my own interests. 

Consciously, I force myself to shrug. I don't know if that's the correct reaction, or if I should act in any way at all, but I want to be expressive. Loss is a rather dull feeling to me. It is hard to become attached to something when you know one day it will fade away.

I look down at the spider, about to mention that it might be better to try our luck elsewhere. She is fast. The clown is occupied, or dead, we would be fine. I don't want to push my luck - but I am a slow walker. It is unlikely I could ever match Kumoko's pace on foot, so she may have to carry me everywhere. If she is unable to travel here, it would be best to retrace our steps and take another path.

Yet, before I do speak, she shakes her head, spins around, and merrily speeds off away from the archway. If she could talk, I imagine she would be humming. She strikes me as a happy individual, but that could just be my mind projecting what I want to see upon her. Regardless, Kumoko is trustworthy, and while my predicament is less limited, we both have our troubles expressing ourselves.

I take a shallow breath while my eyes strategically examine the surroundings, scrutinisingly noting every little detail. Many I forget within seconds. The dark sky shifts, revealing a sliver of orange over the far horizon. Any shadows it painted were invisible among the dark terrain, with lava pools and veins casting their own focused glow.

We travel for some time, but I make no noticeable progress healing my hand. A sliver of strength flows through my body, however. Enough to lift a small rock, and maybe even throw it. I wouldn't count on that. My warm magic fizzles down my spine, soothing and comforting, contrasting the unrelenting heat with a much more welcoming embrace. In comparison, it makes the burning air seem less intense. Tolerable, even. I don't want to get used to it.

Notably, the odd spread crushed rocks lay in wave besides our path, signifying that others may have ridden here before. Perhaps on horseback, or by carriage. Or, worryingly, maybe they were large enough to crush the stones themselves.

I have no wish to turn every meeting into a hostile encounter, but I must be wary. Kumoko could have eaten me. Power may be at my disposal, but that doesn't mean I can drop my guard around others. My foresight is unreliable and fails to give enough warning to prepare myself adequately against a skilled opponent. It is a tool. Not a crutch.

And Kumoko is a friend. Not a tool.

This is a new world, one I have no obligation to assist in its development, or sustainability. I want to be young, not to look down on others because of my years. We're all equals here, pulled in together.

Which leaves a dilemma.

What do I do?

Or, what do I want to do?

If there are many others, they have factions, allegiances, and probably enemies too.

I'm certain I can prove useful, should my looks not hold weight on their opinion. Escaping an orphanage is not something I wish to do any time soon. But, it does provide some safety. In my experience, many are reluctant to kill a young girl, even if they know her looks are deceiving. Nothing to rely on, but something that could prove useful.

A girl and her pink spider friend. An intelligent pink spider. Like a fantasy adventure novel.

Ruling. Leadership. It was a strain. Many monarchies have been my puppets. Dressed up faces dancing to my plans. A quiet life would be unsuitable, also. I want to do things. See things. Something new. Danger is inevitable.

But first.

"We can rest."

I try to balance, pointing a finger towards a dark cave. Enhancing my reactions, I shift in slow motion. Time crawls, and with perfect precision I lean, twitching my weak muscles to stay balanced with no hands. The focus I dedicate to my simple stunt is a testament to my limited physical capabilities. I have ridden ponies with saddles. Kumoko's body is not naturally suited for riding, it will take some getting used to. I can learn. I want to learn. I'm riding a pink intelligent spider. After eight hundred years, I don't get many 'firsts' anymore. Good firsts, anyway. 

The future intrigues me. For a moment, I wish I could throw away my years. That I could have come here as a little girl. A real little girl. Youthful. Happy. Energetic. Wishful, with ideas and ideals for her fate. Like the little me back at the orphanage, before she learned how special she was. Or the more matured, but still playful, girl at the church. A magical novice, weak but unyielding. Longing to one day gain a taste of adventure.

They would have died to the clown.

Time resumes as normal. My magical crutch doesn't drain much energy, leaving me confident in my abilities.

Kumoko nods and scuttles forwards. Her movements are a little odd as if she's playing a game of 'don't step on the cracks'. I pay it no mind, assuming her legs are simply frail. I would hope we're not walking on a proverbial field of landmines.

My mana hisses, expelling out of my good hand and moulding into a fresh steel blade. Kumoko glances back up at me, hearing the noise. I try to smile back, to assure her I am merely using the swords blue glow as a torch, but it comes across as grim - like I'm expecting a fight.

Steadying herself, Kumoko renews her trot, fangs barred as she plunges us both into the near-darkness.]]> <![CDATA[Step One]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=5373 Fri, 16 Feb 2018 03:50:42 +0000 Albert Wesker]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=5373
Internally, he blamed it entirely on the driving of his aide. He knew it was entirely inaccurate; Mister Death had in all likelihood been the better choice for driving between the two of them. Purely mortal and limited to human capabilities he may have been, but he had been doing such work and operating vehicles in all manner of terrain far more than Wesker himself had. Despite his time as a STARS operative, and later as an intelligence agent in Umbrella's covert operations, he had been more focused on the boots-on-the-ground aspect.

By his reckoning, the entire scene had taken perhaps two hours, from summoning to losing the vehicle. Which put them at another four hours, in this smoke-hazed landscape. For a while now they had been mercifully free of the shimmering heat haze that seemed intent on proving itself the maximum possible irritant, and had managed to make fairly steady progress. Progress to where, the seething executive had no idea. But progress was progress.

Mister Death's tracking skills and experience in the field had proved itself useful, however, in finding the broken carcass of what looked like a path of some sort. In this arid, ashen wasteland, it was hard to really identify it as any sort of path at all. The telltale signs were everywhere, of shifting landmasses and the lay of the land changing -- possibly by the day. Quakes in the land, flows of lava from eruptions and geological flatulence...it did not shape up to make for stable ground to traverse.

Yet somehow or other, through it all, Agent HUNK had proved his worth. It was little more than a footpath, freshly broken and trod, and in places there were stretches where it was completely lost. But it was still there to be found and followed, even if where it actually led to was a mystery.

"This entire place seems far too desolate to support any sort of developed intelligent life," Wesker finally stated. "Unless there's some sort of species that can survive off of volcanic rock and not mind the ground being torn to pieces and relaid every other day."

"Never can tell. Place like this, all bets are off," HUNK responded shortly. "Since I got here, watched you patch yourself up from what should have taken days to heal, at the least, in just a few hours of rest and effort. After pulling a new suit and wardrobe out of thin air, and making that car drop out of your imagination." The special agent turned his gasmask-covered face toward his superior. "Rock-eating lava-ignoring intelligent life seems mundane next to that."

That was a sensible enough observation, and it gave Wesker pause for a moment as he considered it. In his agitated state, he had failed to even consider it from an outside point of view. In his mind, it was just another useful ability to be carefully explored and then fully utilized and exploited. Entirely different from anything he could have possibly attained in his home world, but still something he had readily accepted. Regardless of where it came from, it was his now, and it would be a valuable tool.

...but it did cast some things into a strange light, and make him reconsider the likelihood that they wouldn't encounter anything resembling intelligent life here. The more he thought about it, the more he began to find other possibilities creeping into his mind. In an arid and desolate land like this, it was terribly unlikely that there would be an abundance of life of any sort, save for extremely hardy sorts. Certain types of reptilian creatures, perhaps, could survive in these inhospitable conditions. The lack of moisture would be their primary concern, but perhaps they had adapted enough to gather all they needed just from what they consumed; preying upon each other.

Then there was also another prospect. Reaching up a hand, he pulled the sunglasses off his face, running his other across his features to wipe away a disgusting mixture of collected sooth, ash, dust, and sweat. Squinting against the smoky haze, he scanned the horizon, and...aha. Of course, active volcanoes and mountains. Ample space for caves and quite likely underground chambers, if even one of them was inactive or had gone quiet.

The mind of a scientist was truly something, when set to a task such as this. He had not put it to such work in a long while, saving it for work in the lab rather than the field, but he was more than a little self-satisfied to find that he still had his edge when he took the time to bring it to bear. It was with a faint smirk that he slid his shades back into place, and adjusted the collar of his coat. Even for someone of his fortitude, the garment was stiflingly hot. Only the painstaking care to make it loose and flowing, all the better to billow and catch the wind, made it bearable at all.

....much longer in this insufferable hellscape, and even he would need to see about changing it, or removing it altogether, though.]]>
Internally, he blamed it entirely on the driving of his aide. He knew it was entirely inaccurate; Mister Death had in all likelihood been the better choice for driving between the two of them. Purely mortal and limited to human capabilities he may have been, but he had been doing such work and operating vehicles in all manner of terrain far more than Wesker himself had. Despite his time as a STARS operative, and later as an intelligence agent in Umbrella's covert operations, he had been more focused on the boots-on-the-ground aspect.

By his reckoning, the entire scene had taken perhaps two hours, from summoning to losing the vehicle. Which put them at another four hours, in this smoke-hazed landscape. For a while now they had been mercifully free of the shimmering heat haze that seemed intent on proving itself the maximum possible irritant, and had managed to make fairly steady progress. Progress to where, the seething executive had no idea. But progress was progress.

Mister Death's tracking skills and experience in the field had proved itself useful, however, in finding the broken carcass of what looked like a path of some sort. In this arid, ashen wasteland, it was hard to really identify it as any sort of path at all. The telltale signs were everywhere, of shifting landmasses and the lay of the land changing -- possibly by the day. Quakes in the land, flows of lava from eruptions and geological flatulence...it did not shape up to make for stable ground to traverse.

Yet somehow or other, through it all, Agent HUNK had proved his worth. It was little more than a footpath, freshly broken and trod, and in places there were stretches where it was completely lost. But it was still there to be found and followed, even if where it actually led to was a mystery.

"This entire place seems far too desolate to support any sort of developed intelligent life," Wesker finally stated. "Unless there's some sort of species that can survive off of volcanic rock and not mind the ground being torn to pieces and relaid every other day."

"Never can tell. Place like this, all bets are off," HUNK responded shortly. "Since I got here, watched you patch yourself up from what should have taken days to heal, at the least, in just a few hours of rest and effort. After pulling a new suit and wardrobe out of thin air, and making that car drop out of your imagination." The special agent turned his gasmask-covered face toward his superior. "Rock-eating lava-ignoring intelligent life seems mundane next to that."

That was a sensible enough observation, and it gave Wesker pause for a moment as he considered it. In his agitated state, he had failed to even consider it from an outside point of view. In his mind, it was just another useful ability to be carefully explored and then fully utilized and exploited. Entirely different from anything he could have possibly attained in his home world, but still something he had readily accepted. Regardless of where it came from, it was his now, and it would be a valuable tool.

...but it did cast some things into a strange light, and make him reconsider the likelihood that they wouldn't encounter anything resembling intelligent life here. The more he thought about it, the more he began to find other possibilities creeping into his mind. In an arid and desolate land like this, it was terribly unlikely that there would be an abundance of life of any sort, save for extremely hardy sorts. Certain types of reptilian creatures, perhaps, could survive in these inhospitable conditions. The lack of moisture would be their primary concern, but perhaps they had adapted enough to gather all they needed just from what they consumed; preying upon each other.

Then there was also another prospect. Reaching up a hand, he pulled the sunglasses off his face, running his other across his features to wipe away a disgusting mixture of collected sooth, ash, dust, and sweat. Squinting against the smoky haze, he scanned the horizon, and...aha. Of course, active volcanoes and mountains. Ample space for caves and quite likely underground chambers, if even one of them was inactive or had gone quiet.

The mind of a scientist was truly something, when set to a task such as this. He had not put it to such work in a long while, saving it for work in the lab rather than the field, but he was more than a little self-satisfied to find that he still had his edge when he took the time to bring it to bear. It was with a faint smirk that he slid his shades back into place, and adjusted the collar of his coat. Even for someone of his fortitude, the garment was stiflingly hot. Only the painstaking care to make it loose and flowing, all the better to billow and catch the wind, made it bearable at all.

....much longer in this insufferable hellscape, and even he would need to see about changing it, or removing it altogether, though.]]> <![CDATA[A Prologue's Epilogue]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7193 Tue, 23 Jan 2018 21:04:32 +0000 Miranda Frost]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7193
 She was truly alone.

 Her eye fell back to the ashen road before her, her claws cutting into her bike's hand grips. This place always gave her the creeps, yet she always ended up back here, the place where she and the rest of Gamma team slaughtered that horde of young dragons. It was a miracle that no lives were lost  in that battle, though many of them were knocking on death door. Miranda's eyes narrowed upon the destination she had chosen, the ground littered with the dried skeletons of the hordes they fought, the bleached bones marking their last moments in this world. Seeing them, she'd feel that all familiar phantom pain in her gut as if their talons were still embedded into her flesh. Her bike slowed to a stop, her boot swatting at the rusted piece of machinery's kickstand.

 Her hand fell over her core as if making sure she wasn't wounded. Being here really wasn't good for her overall health. She'd shake her head and step from the vehicle, her eye catching sight of a lone metal crate just sitting there in the ash. She expected a meeting but not a soul was in sight. The crate itself didn't appear to belong to any gorons or that small rag-tag army Nealaphh had scrapped together prior to that battle. She'd kneel before the steel coffer, her claws brushing away the fine ash that had built upon it. The crimson light of her eye shone upon its rough surface. Miranda could see there was nothing nefarious hidden. However, its contents seemed quite interesting.

 She'd set the heavy steel lid aside, her claws reaching  down to grasp at a piece of parchment of some sort.

 "Tell me you like it ♥~ X" , the writing would in a bright crimson font, her eye falling to the address stamp at the bottom right of the card.

 Dr. X
 WhiteFor Pharmaceutical
 Tier 1, Ash Gate Ave
 Coruscant, Galactic Empire

 Miranda would blink and set the card aside, her hands grasping at the article of clothing contained within, lifting it from his container.

 Miranda had never felt both admiration and absolute rage in the same instance so whoever left this for her must have been quite the skilled individual. The coat was similar to the one she held but obviously newer and possibly hand crafted. The coat was lined with the shining crimson scales that belonged to Volvagia's brood providing fairly decent protection when considering the fashion it gave.  She stood there for a moment, her eyes gazing over the beautiful  scales. How fitting that she would receive a coat scrapped from possibly the same creatures she killed. 

 "Fuck it.", she'd mutter, shedding the heavy coat upon the ashen surface. Her arms would loop inside the soft leather lined sleeves, her shoulders rolling, letting the lighter coat to sit comfortably upon her shoulders. Her claws quickly fastened the dragon-tooth button, securing the coat to her frame. It seemed quite lighter than the coat she wore prior but given her body's exhaustion, she probably wouldn't benefit from it. 

 Sliding her hands into its two side pockets she'd discover another necesary article. Pulling the items out she'd discover what seemed to be an imperial citizen's id card as well as a passport and variety of other papers. Her eye twitched with irritation, looking over the very specific details listed in these papers. Whoever Miranda had contacted for help, they knew very particular details about her. Everything to the number of scars located over her body, to the various augmentations she held. Miranda couldn't have written out any medical documents as detailed as this.

 She'd sigh, looking out into the rocky horizon with crimson heat lightning thundering from cloud to cloud. Her eye focused on the faint glow of Coruscant's gate in the distance.

 "Who. Are. You?"]]>
 She was truly alone.

 Her eye fell back to the ashen road before her, her claws cutting into her bike's hand grips. This place always gave her the creeps, yet she always ended up back here, the place where she and the rest of Gamma team slaughtered that horde of young dragons. It was a miracle that no lives were lost  in that battle, though many of them were knocking on death door. Miranda's eyes narrowed upon the destination she had chosen, the ground littered with the dried skeletons of the hordes they fought, the bleached bones marking their last moments in this world. Seeing them, she'd feel that all familiar phantom pain in her gut as if their talons were still embedded into her flesh. Her bike slowed to a stop, her boot swatting at the rusted piece of machinery's kickstand.

 Her hand fell over her core as if making sure she wasn't wounded. Being here really wasn't good for her overall health. She'd shake her head and step from the vehicle, her eye catching sight of a lone metal crate just sitting there in the ash. She expected a meeting but not a soul was in sight. The crate itself didn't appear to belong to any gorons or that small rag-tag army Nealaphh had scrapped together prior to that battle. She'd kneel before the steel coffer, her claws brushing away the fine ash that had built upon it. The crimson light of her eye shone upon its rough surface. Miranda could see there was nothing nefarious hidden. However, its contents seemed quite interesting.

 She'd set the heavy steel lid aside, her claws reaching  down to grasp at a piece of parchment of some sort.

 "Tell me you like it ♥~ X" , the writing would in a bright crimson font, her eye falling to the address stamp at the bottom right of the card.

 Dr. X
 WhiteFor Pharmaceutical
 Tier 1, Ash Gate Ave
 Coruscant, Galactic Empire

 Miranda would blink and set the card aside, her hands grasping at the article of clothing contained within, lifting it from his container.

 Miranda had never felt both admiration and absolute rage in the same instance so whoever left this for her must have been quite the skilled individual. The coat was similar to the one she held but obviously newer and possibly hand crafted. The coat was lined with the shining crimson scales that belonged to Volvagia's brood providing fairly decent protection when considering the fashion it gave.  She stood there for a moment, her eyes gazing over the beautiful  scales. How fitting that she would receive a coat scrapped from possibly the same creatures she killed. 

 "Fuck it.", she'd mutter, shedding the heavy coat upon the ashen surface. Her arms would loop inside the soft leather lined sleeves, her shoulders rolling, letting the lighter coat to sit comfortably upon her shoulders. Her claws quickly fastened the dragon-tooth button, securing the coat to her frame. It seemed quite lighter than the coat she wore prior but given her body's exhaustion, she probably wouldn't benefit from it. 

 Sliding her hands into its two side pockets she'd discover another necesary article. Pulling the items out she'd discover what seemed to be an imperial citizen's id card as well as a passport and variety of other papers. Her eye twitched with irritation, looking over the very specific details listed in these papers. Whoever Miranda had contacted for help, they knew very particular details about her. Everything to the number of scars located over her body, to the various augmentations she held. Miranda couldn't have written out any medical documents as detailed as this.

 She'd sigh, looking out into the rocky horizon with crimson heat lightning thundering from cloud to cloud. Her eye focused on the faint glow of Coruscant's gate in the distance.

 "Who. Are. You?"]]> <![CDATA[Storm the Castle]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7005 Fri, 17 Nov 2017 02:44:08 +0000 Ebonywood Hellscythe]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=7005 Quote:If you're from Ashen DD you can drop in whenever, if you want - even you Kuzuru. Anyone else, just shoot me (or whoever) a heads up before jumping in. Eb didn't really get to interact with the blades much, so Clappy and Miranda, if you're game to meet up IC, shoot me a PM or something. As a side not, me and Summer are thinking of doing "The Ashen Walk", so we might jump to a new thread after a few rounds. Dunno if Morene is coming with if we do go, but she's welcome to.
Orange-red sunlight glared through the crack in the curtains, lapping at the peak of the tower. Much of the land below was left in shadow by the craggy rocks, illuminated by streams of lava, yet still left shady by the thick layers of ash. Dust was scattered through the air of the room, guiding the rays down towards the head of the bed. 

Prior, the room had remained stagnant, from dusk till dawn. Faint breaths from Summer caused his chest to rise and fall as he slept, and a certain black haired mage had fallen forwards from her chair, head and hands pressed against his ribs. She snored gently, subconsciously nuzzling her face deeper with every small shiver.

As they'd slept, the faint glow dark purple rippled from the wounds on Ebony's chest as the Omnilium sewed them shut, eventually stopping not long before the sunrise. Summer's injuries stitched themselves up more naturally, although one hand still remained as a stump. There had been few noises throughout the castle, and they'd both slept well despite their respective positions.

Yet, now, with the sun's distorted rays focused towards Summer's face, it was only a matter of time before the light poked through his eyelids. First, it was a sniff - his nose scrunched, mouth still agape. Then his eyelashes fluttered, blinking the dust away. A few seconds later, his head jerked up causing his chest to rise slightly. Ebony's head was brought up with it and, if not for her grip, would have been pushed off. She mumbled, fists reactively clenching tighter onto his shirt and keeping herself steady as he fell back once again. 

He shuffled slightly, experimentally trying to wake the mage, but all attempts yielded nought beside more weak groans and protests.

"Enjoying your nap?" Raising an eyebrow, he spoke. It wasn't loud, but over the comparative silence, it seemed otherwise.

Reaching out with his good hand, he ruffled her hair. Unlike usual, there was so little consistency that the action actually added more order to the style.

She mumbled, turning to face the oppressor while pressing her ear downwards.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The steady beating of his heart filled her eardrums. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. "Huuuh..."

Her view was still blocked by her splayed arms, but she felt his hand continuing to move, steadily playing with her hair.

She reached up, grabbing his wrist quizzically and moving his arm away. Slowly, she pushed herself upright, still gripping his arm and not really comprehending the situation. Ebony was not a morning person, but neither was she a night owl.

"W-w-whaa..." Her voice trailed off; her eyes finally met Summer's. Subconsciously, her other hand played with his fingers, linking hers through the gaps between them. Given that it was two hands against one, he made no physical effort to reclaim it.

Swiftly, her neck jerked down, flicking her hair in front of her face and hiding the growing tinge of red. "Y-you looked hurt. I w-wanted to check that you were okay." And because she found his silly hair and stupid face amusing, but that was beside the point.

Summer sat up, and she pulled the stolen arm closer. "It takes a lot more than that to kill me! But... thanks for your concern."

"Y-you're my f-friend. It's what friends do!" Shaking hair to the side of her face, Ebony looked up, a faint blush visible on her pale cheeks. She looked bare without her cloak; and to some, the plain black top might have looked more like pyjamas than proper clothing.

"Right... friends." He muttered, experimentally clenching his hand. Smooth fingers gripped back, while others drifted around his wrist. "Can I have that back please, I've only got one." He raised his stump for emphasis, forcing a smile.

"O-oh. S-sorry. I didn't m-mean to-" Despite the stuttering, Ebony made no attempt to release the limb, being more focused on trying to apologise. 

"Nevermind." He pointed the stump towards Ebony's head, but it fell short by a small distance. Yet, almost instantly, a new hand grew out of the damaged arm, landing right on top of her head.

"H-how?"

Summer didn't try to answer, instead offering the biggest, smuggest, grin Ebony had ever seen.

Suddenly, out from nowhere, one of the pillows found itself covering the man's smile. "I was w-worried about you." Sticking out her lower lip, Ebony pouted.

He pulled the pillow off, dropping it to the side of the bed, only to find it instantly replaced with another. He laughed, plying that one off as well, but it was shortly substituted for two more. "...where are you finding all of these?"

Ebony tugged his arm, dragging him out of the pile while he shifted his legs off the bed. Summer rose to his feet, awkwardly shuffling between the two. "I'm g-glad you're okay though," she mumbled, hugging his arm to pull herself upright.

"I'm happy you're okay too."

She yawned, releasing him and walking independently towards the door, magic already starting to open it. She'd already started to work on her hair telekinetically as well, smoothing out the knots and letting it curl down her back. 

"I was thinking about getting you- about meeting Omni. We could check the library, there might be some information there." Ebony wasn't the best at playing this game yet, but she thought that comment came from Sonny. After pondering that for a moment, she perked up.

"Really? Where is it?"

"I dunno. This place can't be that big, we'll find it eventually."

"L-let's get started then!" Her voice jumped, cracking with excitement. Although the cold rocky flooring of the hallway quickly evoked a chill in her feet - the thin fabric of her socks did little to buffer it. She shuddered, hopping back, landing on the tips of her toes, and falling into Summer; he caught her effortlessly. "It's c-cold." Summer was cold as well, but not like the ground. The hallway might as well have been made of ice.

He chuckled. "Go get your clothes, kiddo. Then we'll be off to the library."

"I'm not a kid. I'm-"

"Almost nineteen. I know. How close are you, anyway? Not that it really matters much here."

Ebony paused. Back home, they'd always considered her birthday to be just after midnight, and it was dawn here, but more than six hours had definitely passed. Maybe one and a bit days. "T-ten days. What about you?"

"Iunno."

Ebony spun around, placing both palms on his chest. "How could you not know! You get presents and eat cake!"

"I guess I never really bothered with it, so I kinda forgot."

"Oh." She was about to open her mouth to reply further when an idea came to mind. Gradually, the corners of her mouth perked up - she hid the expression behind her hair. 

"So... are we going to go now?" Summer idly prodded, trying to guide Ebony out of the door.

"But it's c-cold." She made a display of mock shivering. "C-c-carry me." The room was enclosed and had a wooden floor, so it was relatively warm. The hallway, however, had a stone floor and was left open to breezes. The ground of the Steppes might have been hot, but that heat didn't travel to the higher levels of the castle, especially at night.

"I... sure." The storm incarnate shook his head before presenting his back, miffed. "Hop on."

Tentatively, Ebony climbed up onto his cool back - yet a few moments after he walked into the hall, it's temperature dropped drastically. She shuddered, trying to move away and touch him as little as she could while still avoiding the floor, but with his arms holding her legs she made. "T-t-t-t... T-that's m-mean."

Luckily, Summer's body shortly returned to normal - well, normal for him. Carefully, he let Ebony down in her room, choosing to wait outside. He wasn't left alone for long - after a short collection of jangling sounds, clicking, and a quiet thump, she emerged, donned in her full attire. The grime from before was gone, yet some tears remained. 

"Well then, let's get a move on. I trust I won't have to carry you again?"

Ebony glared, lower lip sticking out slightly. With barely any thought, she wrapped her magic around Summer, picked him up, and dragged him along beside her as he idly floated in the air.]]> Quote:If you're from Ashen DD you can drop in whenever, if you want - even you Kuzuru. Anyone else, just shoot me (or whoever) a heads up before jumping in. Eb didn't really get to interact with the blades much, so Clappy and Miranda, if you're game to meet up IC, shoot me a PM or something. As a side not, me and Summer are thinking of doing "The Ashen Walk", so we might jump to a new thread after a few rounds. Dunno if Morene is coming with if we do go, but she's welcome to.
Orange-red sunlight glared through the crack in the curtains, lapping at the peak of the tower. Much of the land below was left in shadow by the craggy rocks, illuminated by streams of lava, yet still left shady by the thick layers of ash. Dust was scattered through the air of the room, guiding the rays down towards the head of the bed. 

Prior, the room had remained stagnant, from dusk till dawn. Faint breaths from Summer caused his chest to rise and fall as he slept, and a certain black haired mage had fallen forwards from her chair, head and hands pressed against his ribs. She snored gently, subconsciously nuzzling her face deeper with every small shiver.

As they'd slept, the faint glow dark purple rippled from the wounds on Ebony's chest as the Omnilium sewed them shut, eventually stopping not long before the sunrise. Summer's injuries stitched themselves up more naturally, although one hand still remained as a stump. There had been few noises throughout the castle, and they'd both slept well despite their respective positions.

Yet, now, with the sun's distorted rays focused towards Summer's face, it was only a matter of time before the light poked through his eyelids. First, it was a sniff - his nose scrunched, mouth still agape. Then his eyelashes fluttered, blinking the dust away. A few seconds later, his head jerked up causing his chest to rise slightly. Ebony's head was brought up with it and, if not for her grip, would have been pushed off. She mumbled, fists reactively clenching tighter onto his shirt and keeping herself steady as he fell back once again. 

He shuffled slightly, experimentally trying to wake the mage, but all attempts yielded nought beside more weak groans and protests.

"Enjoying your nap?" Raising an eyebrow, he spoke. It wasn't loud, but over the comparative silence, it seemed otherwise.

Reaching out with his good hand, he ruffled her hair. Unlike usual, there was so little consistency that the action actually added more order to the style.

She mumbled, turning to face the oppressor while pressing her ear downwards.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

The steady beating of his heart filled her eardrums. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. "Huuuh..."

Her view was still blocked by her splayed arms, but she felt his hand continuing to move, steadily playing with her hair.

She reached up, grabbing his wrist quizzically and moving his arm away. Slowly, she pushed herself upright, still gripping his arm and not really comprehending the situation. Ebony was not a morning person, but neither was she a night owl.

"W-w-whaa..." Her voice trailed off; her eyes finally met Summer's. Subconsciously, her other hand played with his fingers, linking hers through the gaps between them. Given that it was two hands against one, he made no physical effort to reclaim it.

Swiftly, her neck jerked down, flicking her hair in front of her face and hiding the growing tinge of red. "Y-you looked hurt. I w-wanted to check that you were okay." And because she found his silly hair and stupid face amusing, but that was beside the point.

Summer sat up, and she pulled the stolen arm closer. "It takes a lot more than that to kill me! But... thanks for your concern."

"Y-you're my f-friend. It's what friends do!" Shaking hair to the side of her face, Ebony looked up, a faint blush visible on her pale cheeks. She looked bare without her cloak; and to some, the plain black top might have looked more like pyjamas than proper clothing.

"Right... friends." He muttered, experimentally clenching his hand. Smooth fingers gripped back, while others drifted around his wrist. "Can I have that back please, I've only got one." He raised his stump for emphasis, forcing a smile.

"O-oh. S-sorry. I didn't m-mean to-" Despite the stuttering, Ebony made no attempt to release the limb, being more focused on trying to apologise. 

"Nevermind." He pointed the stump towards Ebony's head, but it fell short by a small distance. Yet, almost instantly, a new hand grew out of the damaged arm, landing right on top of her head.

"H-how?"

Summer didn't try to answer, instead offering the biggest, smuggest, grin Ebony had ever seen.

Suddenly, out from nowhere, one of the pillows found itself covering the man's smile. "I was w-worried about you." Sticking out her lower lip, Ebony pouted.

He pulled the pillow off, dropping it to the side of the bed, only to find it instantly replaced with another. He laughed, plying that one off as well, but it was shortly substituted for two more. "...where are you finding all of these?"

Ebony tugged his arm, dragging him out of the pile while he shifted his legs off the bed. Summer rose to his feet, awkwardly shuffling between the two. "I'm g-glad you're okay though," she mumbled, hugging his arm to pull herself upright.

"I'm happy you're okay too."

She yawned, releasing him and walking independently towards the door, magic already starting to open it. She'd already started to work on her hair telekinetically as well, smoothing out the knots and letting it curl down her back. 

"I was thinking about getting you- about meeting Omni. We could check the library, there might be some information there." Ebony wasn't the best at playing this game yet, but she thought that comment came from Sonny. After pondering that for a moment, she perked up.

"Really? Where is it?"

"I dunno. This place can't be that big, we'll find it eventually."

"L-let's get started then!" Her voice jumped, cracking with excitement. Although the cold rocky flooring of the hallway quickly evoked a chill in her feet - the thin fabric of her socks did little to buffer it. She shuddered, hopping back, landing on the tips of her toes, and falling into Summer; he caught her effortlessly. "It's c-cold." Summer was cold as well, but not like the ground. The hallway might as well have been made of ice.

He chuckled. "Go get your clothes, kiddo. Then we'll be off to the library."

"I'm not a kid. I'm-"

"Almost nineteen. I know. How close are you, anyway? Not that it really matters much here."

Ebony paused. Back home, they'd always considered her birthday to be just after midnight, and it was dawn here, but more than six hours had definitely passed. Maybe one and a bit days. "T-ten days. What about you?"

"Iunno."

Ebony spun around, placing both palms on his chest. "How could you not know! You get presents and eat cake!"

"I guess I never really bothered with it, so I kinda forgot."

"Oh." She was about to open her mouth to reply further when an idea came to mind. Gradually, the corners of her mouth perked up - she hid the expression behind her hair. 

"So... are we going to go now?" Summer idly prodded, trying to guide Ebony out of the door.

"But it's c-cold." She made a display of mock shivering. "C-c-carry me." The room was enclosed and had a wooden floor, so it was relatively warm. The hallway, however, had a stone floor and was left open to breezes. The ground of the Steppes might have been hot, but that heat didn't travel to the higher levels of the castle, especially at night.

"I... sure." The storm incarnate shook his head before presenting his back, miffed. "Hop on."

Tentatively, Ebony climbed up onto his cool back - yet a few moments after he walked into the hall, it's temperature dropped drastically. She shuddered, trying to move away and touch him as little as she could while still avoiding the floor, but with his arms holding her legs she made. "T-t-t-t... T-that's m-mean."

Luckily, Summer's body shortly returned to normal - well, normal for him. Carefully, he let Ebony down in her room, choosing to wait outside. He wasn't left alone for long - after a short collection of jangling sounds, clicking, and a quiet thump, she emerged, donned in her full attire. The grime from before was gone, yet some tears remained. 

"Well then, let's get a move on. I trust I won't have to carry you again?"

Ebony glared, lower lip sticking out slightly. With barely any thought, she wrapped her magic around Summer, picked him up, and dragged him along beside her as he idly floated in the air.]]> <![CDATA[The Ashen Fortress III]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=241 Thu, 02 Nov 2017 20:53:59 +0000 Kuzuru]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=241
As demon stepped through the Ashen gate his body took on a physical countenance. Hot air filled his lungs and the scent of char and smoke tickled his nostrils. A smile slipped across his lips as he surveyed his domain. The Steppes were an inhospitable wasteland that served to house the aggressive extremophiles of the Omniverse. While Kuzuru could give or take the unrelenting heat he relished the darwinistic nature of the verse. Those well adapted to the hellish landscape prospered while all others were burnt to a crisp. He reached down and scooped up a handful of the red earth, pulling it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He was home.

Kuzuru held out his hand and closed his eyes, collecting his omnilium into an easily managed orb. He opened his eyes and frowned. The rainbow orb that floated above his palm was barely larger than a marble. He mouthed a curse word and tried to pour more of his energy into the disappointing sphere. It rippled and grew larger, but not by much. The demon’s body shuddered and he found himself winded. What had once been natural to him was now an exhausting a frustrating chore. Perhaps resurrection did have its unintended side effects. The demon spent about half an hour concentrating his omnilium into a usable chunk and by the end of it he was sweating profusely.

He pointed the orb outwards and it floated a few feet away. Mentally he pictured a custom-made offroad motorcycle and willed the miracle substance to fulfill his desire. Again the demon found himself pressed against an invisible wall. Where summoning had been akin to molding clay he now found himself shaping frozen taffy - technically malleable, but good luck. Were it not for the intense concentration required he would have been swearing up a tempest. Once it was all said and done the demon had spent the better part of an hour creating what amounted to a pile of metal shit with an engine and wheels strapped to it. With sour contempt he mounted the monstrosity and kick-started it. A plume of black soot sputtered out from the exhaust pipes as the engine chugged to life. Kicking up a tower of dirt the demon laid into the throttle and zipped  off towards the horizon.

His journey across the Steppes was one that was filled with close calls and mechanical failures. More than twice did he have to stop and perform a field repair on the unfortunate death machine. Upon reaching the entrance to his fortress he dismounted the bike and deconstructed it into its base omnilium. Destruction came much easier than creation, but the process still left him winded and weak. Kuzuru sighed and eyed the stairway that lead to the fortress’s entrance. He ascended the stairs and placed his hand on the stone slab that barred entrance to all except the Blades. Unseen mechanisms groaned and creaked as they shifted the slab aside and allowed him passage. He stepped inside and made his way to the heart of the Ashen Fortress.

As much as the demon hated to admit it battle was out of the question until he had fully recovered from his resurrection. So with that in mind he linked his dataverse device to the TV and opened up the Omnivere’s most recent competition, Dante’s Abyss. While watching others fight was akin to watching porn instead of actually having sex he did enjoy it nonetheless. There was certainly no dearth of content; Syntech had done a painstakingly thorough job of capturing every moment of the contest. He found himself following each fighter individually as they survived on the island, taking in every scrap of violence he could. However the most intriguing contestant was one of his own. Dawn had entered and proven herself to be a more than capable warrior, having acquired three kills before the entire thing was ended.

Kuzuru paused his binging and pulled up Dawn’s contact information. He tapped out a message and channelled a bit of omnilium into the device before hitting send. He’d be damned if his sycophants were not rewarded for shedding such exquisite blood.]]>
As demon stepped through the Ashen gate his body took on a physical countenance. Hot air filled his lungs and the scent of char and smoke tickled his nostrils. A smile slipped across his lips as he surveyed his domain. The Steppes were an inhospitable wasteland that served to house the aggressive extremophiles of the Omniverse. While Kuzuru could give or take the unrelenting heat he relished the darwinistic nature of the verse. Those well adapted to the hellish landscape prospered while all others were burnt to a crisp. He reached down and scooped up a handful of the red earth, pulling it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. He was home.

Kuzuru held out his hand and closed his eyes, collecting his omnilium into an easily managed orb. He opened his eyes and frowned. The rainbow orb that floated above his palm was barely larger than a marble. He mouthed a curse word and tried to pour more of his energy into the disappointing sphere. It rippled and grew larger, but not by much. The demon’s body shuddered and he found himself winded. What had once been natural to him was now an exhausting a frustrating chore. Perhaps resurrection did have its unintended side effects. The demon spent about half an hour concentrating his omnilium into a usable chunk and by the end of it he was sweating profusely.

He pointed the orb outwards and it floated a few feet away. Mentally he pictured a custom-made offroad motorcycle and willed the miracle substance to fulfill his desire. Again the demon found himself pressed against an invisible wall. Where summoning had been akin to molding clay he now found himself shaping frozen taffy - technically malleable, but good luck. Were it not for the intense concentration required he would have been swearing up a tempest. Once it was all said and done the demon had spent the better part of an hour creating what amounted to a pile of metal shit with an engine and wheels strapped to it. With sour contempt he mounted the monstrosity and kick-started it. A plume of black soot sputtered out from the exhaust pipes as the engine chugged to life. Kicking up a tower of dirt the demon laid into the throttle and zipped  off towards the horizon.

His journey across the Steppes was one that was filled with close calls and mechanical failures. More than twice did he have to stop and perform a field repair on the unfortunate death machine. Upon reaching the entrance to his fortress he dismounted the bike and deconstructed it into its base omnilium. Destruction came much easier than creation, but the process still left him winded and weak. Kuzuru sighed and eyed the stairway that lead to the fortress’s entrance. He ascended the stairs and placed his hand on the stone slab that barred entrance to all except the Blades. Unseen mechanisms groaned and creaked as they shifted the slab aside and allowed him passage. He stepped inside and made his way to the heart of the Ashen Fortress.

As much as the demon hated to admit it battle was out of the question until he had fully recovered from his resurrection. So with that in mind he linked his dataverse device to the TV and opened up the Omnivere’s most recent competition, Dante’s Abyss. While watching others fight was akin to watching porn instead of actually having sex he did enjoy it nonetheless. There was certainly no dearth of content; Syntech had done a painstakingly thorough job of capturing every moment of the contest. He found himself following each fighter individually as they survived on the island, taking in every scrap of violence he could. However the most intriguing contestant was one of his own. Dawn had entered and proven herself to be a more than capable warrior, having acquired three kills before the entire thing was ended.

Kuzuru paused his binging and pulled up Dawn’s contact information. He tapped out a message and channelled a bit of omnilium into the device before hitting send. He’d be damned if his sycophants were not rewarded for shedding such exquisite blood.]]> <![CDATA[Darkened Nights]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=6855 Fri, 29 Sep 2017 08:54:43 +0000 Dawnika Snow]]> https://omni.zulenka.com/showthread.php?tid=6855
She finally slid to a stop covered in the black soot she caught scraping across the ground. It was painful to stand immediately, but still she tried. Her attempt made it halfway before she kneeled to the bruises. Her gaze feel to where the portal had disappeared.

“Dammit…” she muttered through her hair. Heavy breathing pushed it forward off her face. “You’re on your own old man.”

When she was finally able to stand, she had noticed that she wasn’t the only one to escape the gate’s vacuum. Unfortunately, they were all Darklings. The vigilante gripped her rifle. She spit the built up saliva from her dirt-covered mouth.

“What the fuck are you idiots looking at?” She asked. The Darklings snarled furiously at her waving their swords at her. They surrounded her quickly, making retreat practically impossible on foot, but only a coward would retreat. Dawn was not a coward.

At least seven of these Darklings were surrounding her, ready to tear her face off if not just to see what the front of her skull looked like. Oscuritas’ sights leveled to one's head and blew it into oblivion. The limp, headless body thumped against the ashen rocks. That spurred the others into action, swinging their blackened scimitar-like blades at her like crazed animals. She slipped the rifle back into it’s leather holster on her back. Once it was safe and secure, she grabbed the knife on her boot and the pistol on her thigh.

A blade drove past her face, dodged by a quick step back. She reached in with her blade underhanded and sliced it’s throat with ease. As it wobbled back helplessly gasping for air, she drove the knife into another one charging up to her side. It stabbed through the darkened being’s head, blood sprayed against her wrist and hand. The first one she had sliced, still stood, so she raised her free hand and shot it between the eyes. It fell over instantly and died. Her wrist pulled back and sliced through the other Darkling’s head. It fell over to join its brother.

The few remaining attempted to gang up on her. They charged her like the others with bravado behind the strength of numbers. Dawn’s blackened wings spread like a rose blooming in the spring, a black, terrifying rose. She leaped into the air and took flight, the faint sound of a click left in the wake of dust and darklings. They stared and snarled at her unaware of their inevitable doom. The explosion engulfed the helpless being in fire and shrapnel.

The raven-haired demoness flew up high and looked down on her dead enemies.

“Tch, fuckin’ idiots.” Her wings blew the smoke back as she began to make her way home. Maybe she could get some real rest finally.]]>
She finally slid to a stop covered in the black soot she caught scraping across the ground. It was painful to stand immediately, but still she tried. Her attempt made it halfway before she kneeled to the bruises. Her gaze feel to where the portal had disappeared.

“Dammit…” she muttered through her hair. Heavy breathing pushed it forward off her face. “You’re on your own old man.”

When she was finally able to stand, she had noticed that she wasn’t the only one to escape the gate’s vacuum. Unfortunately, they were all Darklings. The vigilante gripped her rifle. She spit the built up saliva from her dirt-covered mouth.

“What the fuck are you idiots looking at?” She asked. The Darklings snarled furiously at her waving their swords at her. They surrounded her quickly, making retreat practically impossible on foot, but only a coward would retreat. Dawn was not a coward.

At least seven of these Darklings were surrounding her, ready to tear her face off if not just to see what the front of her skull looked like. Oscuritas’ sights leveled to one's head and blew it into oblivion. The limp, headless body thumped against the ashen rocks. That spurred the others into action, swinging their blackened scimitar-like blades at her like crazed animals. She slipped the rifle back into it’s leather holster on her back. Once it was safe and secure, she grabbed the knife on her boot and the pistol on her thigh.

A blade drove past her face, dodged by a quick step back. She reached in with her blade underhanded and sliced it’s throat with ease. As it wobbled back helplessly gasping for air, she drove the knife into another one charging up to her side. It stabbed through the darkened being’s head, blood sprayed against her wrist and hand. The first one she had sliced, still stood, so she raised her free hand and shot it between the eyes. It fell over instantly and died. Her wrist pulled back and sliced through the other Darkling’s head. It fell over to join its brother.

The few remaining attempted to gang up on her. They charged her like the others with bravado behind the strength of numbers. Dawn’s blackened wings spread like a rose blooming in the spring, a black, terrifying rose. She leaped into the air and took flight, the faint sound of a click left in the wake of dust and darklings. They stared and snarled at her unaware of their inevitable doom. The explosion engulfed the helpless being in fire and shrapnel.

The raven-haired demoness flew up high and looked down on her dead enemies.

“Tch, fuckin’ idiots.” Her wings blew the smoke back as she began to make her way home. Maybe she could get some real rest finally.]]>