Millennium City: Nova - Welcome to Millennium City! (Wave One Intro)
- Thread starter Haz.
- Start date
Daunting_Doggo
Not a dog anymore?
Pat pulls up his book that he was previously grabbing on the floor and then lifts on its side so he can sit on it. He places his arse on the particularly cold, hard book cover and then after taking his earphones out and putting back in the socket on his book he looks up at Maxwell with a bored look. He then puts his hand under his hood poking at something;
"I will in a minute, also don't worry about the message at the bottom, it got ddossed by some Tzeench sorcerer nerd once and it swears at whoever it deals with.".
As he says that his book dings again and then he opens it and lifts it again, pulling out a piece of paper, he then throws a booger on the floor and uses his finger to trace as he reads; "Wait a second let me translate this, too many calls for help from enslaved souls and suspicious donkey neighs." He then reads it for a second and then scraps the paper and throws it behind him.
"This is a metropolis in an alternate universe of the world Terra, during the modern period not really specific on the date. Apparently, there is some form rip that allows people to travel here at will or without it. That should be it since the materials I used to get that info were rather low quality, by the way, nice to meet you I am Patrianus Arcarus Vibiucles Craptus Texus Herald of the Prince of Excess Slaneeshi, or just pat for people who aren't really into honorifics."
marc122
chew
jigglesworth
Asuka looked at the new pictures that were grafted into the wall. This time, instead of depicting the confusion of the people that were in the train, as well as the fact that her parents were missing, it showed what appeared to be two stick figures being connected to a smaller one, and then the one at the bottom. It was confusing at first when she read it, but as soon as she recalled what she saw of the previous inscription, she began to understand it. It was basically her with her parents when suddenly, she was without them, and Corvo was trying to ask if she needs help finding her parents.
To her, the answer was a hard "no", since she had a particularly traumatizing memory involving them. Then, due to the way Corvo acted similarly to her father, her PTSD, which was delayed, triggered. Suddenly, she was taken back to the time Kyoko decided to off her. Then, as the flash of the memory faded quickly, she heard her father's echoed voice saying,
"Asuka. Wir werden deine Mutter bald besuchen."
Along with the similarly-echoed laughter from her mother, it faded away, as her heart had suddenly raced and she panted quickly, having fallen onto the ground. She looked left-and-right, before getting up and stepping away from him. She now assumed that Corvo would turn out just like her father; just some caretaker that would happen to ditch her at the moment she needed him the most, especially when she was put in a dangerous situation while he's around. Naturally, she then responded with a staggered,
"...Ne--nein! I--Ich will es nicht. (...N--no! I--I don't want to.)"
To her, the answer was a hard "no", since she had a particularly traumatizing memory involving them. Then, due to the way Corvo acted similarly to her father, her PTSD, which was delayed, triggered. Suddenly, she was taken back to the time Kyoko decided to off her. Then, as the flash of the memory faded quickly, she heard her father's echoed voice saying,
"Asuka. Wir werden deine Mutter bald besuchen."
Along with the similarly-echoed laughter from her mother, it faded away, as her heart had suddenly raced and she panted quickly, having fallen onto the ground. She looked left-and-right, before getting up and stepping away from him. She now assumed that Corvo would turn out just like her father; just some caretaker that would happen to ditch her at the moment she needed him the most, especially when she was put in a dangerous situation while he's around. Naturally, she then responded with a staggered,
"...Ne--nein! I--Ich will es nicht. (...N--no! I--I don't want to.)"
uwupolice
girl boss
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"Amelié!"
The raspy and thick voice of Reaper crackled over her earpiece, flooding her ears with cognizance. Her cadmium yellow eyes widened, a flash of dubiety dancing across her eccentric orbs.
She removed her gaze from the scope of her reputable sniper rifle, her muscles relaxing the slightest as she stared ahead.
The rectangular window was empty, leaving only the ghost of her target and the barren walls.
"You lost our target." Gabriel growled, Sombra cutting in with a snicker. "Way to go púrpura ass." The Latina teased, though Widowmaker didn't take it lightly. "Weren't you the last one that was with Katya..?" The assassin hissed back, hinting to the 'failed' mission in Volskaya Industries.
The line went silent, before Gabe cut in.
"Let's just get back to base. I'll speak with you later, Amelie."
The femme fatale sat back, holding Widows Kiss loosely at her side. A sigh escaped her pouty, purple-blue lips, her back pressing against the wall before she slowly sunk down.
She wearily tossed her visor to the side before her hands met her head. Her fingers raked their way up her scalp until they entangled in her dark locks, lowering her head.
She remained in this position for a while, running through the events that just played out, whilst a war of her consciousness broke out.
The ballerina Amelié began to pick away at the brain that made her Widowmaker, whisperings of her to stop and guilt beginning to lie thick upon her shoulders. The monster that Talon made seethed and clawed, striving her best to overpower that innocent Amelié.
However, it seemed the creation of Talon was beginning to crumble like the ruins of Greece. The beautiful and seemingly immortal marble beginning to crack and make its slow descent from its towering pillars; Slowly reducing to residue, just like all the neural reconditioning.
Breath heavy and heart pounding, she reluctantly got to her feet..
She would report to Moira and solve the predicament.
Widowmaker hoped this would cease, seeing as it cost another target lost.. But, why did a guilty feeling of relief bloom in her stomach?
---
The clicks of her heel filled the seemingly hostile halls, looming over her as if she were no longer accepted here, as if she were a foreigner to this base. Regardless, her features remained blank and her eyes piercing and cold.
She reached the middle of the hall, finding a lonely row of identical chairs that were never filled. In Ameliés opinion, they were useless. Only crazy or ignorant people would seek the assistance of the scientist. However, Widowmaker needed her. She was one of the few people who knew how her brainwashing functioned and she could possibly isolate the problem and eradicate it.
Minutes had passed and the clock ticking overhead began to lull her. By the time Moira emerged from her office, the cold-blooded killer was fast asleep. The ginger let out a soft chuckle, rousing Amelié with a slender and long-nailed hand, beginning to direct her to a sort of chair you would see at a dentist.
The French woman told her of her problems, the other woman nodding, piqued. With a natural smirk and a temporary farewell, Amelié faded into darkness..
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Amelié awoke with a sharp inhale, eyes flying open to reveal she was devoured by endless darkness. She swiveled her head left and right, slowing her breaths as she quickly calmed herself. Her slender hand began to brush against the objects around her, meeting wool, wood, and then linen. Her hands continued to explore the area as she tried to depict where she was at.
The sound began to give her hints though. The rumble of the locomotive reverberated throughout the slightly unknown area.
Standing, she realized she was in some sort of transportation.. A train most likely?
A soft screech shook her thoughts, the train lurching forward slightly. Her hands desperately jutted out to latch onto the seat in front of her, avoiding from slumping over and/or embarrassingly falling.
After stabilizing herself, Widowmaker glared around the seeming void, making out dim silhouettes of seats - empty apparently.
What the hell did Moira do..
Her lip curled and her features contorted into a scowl, cursing in French under her breath. "I knew that damn scientist was shadier than Sombra.."
Amelié paused. There was a familiar weight on her back, a welcoming one in fact. Reaching back, she heaved her Widows Kiss. The purple and black metal glowing faintly in the twilight. It seemed as if more light was very gradually beginning to pour into the train, but to the point where it was barely noticeable.
A satisfied smirk tugged at her lips, though confusion failed to evade. She didn't carry her weapons or any of her equipment into Moira's office, just her usual uniform. She understood of the absence of the heavy visor sitting on her dark-purple hair, her grappling hook, and even her venom mines. But why Widows Kiss of all things? Did Moira ship her off to some weird event - it sort of reminded her of a very ancient movie.. Something about being Hungry and Games being played. She could never remember the title, nor did she care.
Before she could wander - and stumble - through the blackness, luminescence pierced her gaze, causing her to withdraw. A grunt poured from her lips, stunned as she began to take in the entire train cart.
There were.. other people? Or were they even people? Humanoids, fantasy-like characters, and nearly normal humans. In fact, a rather normal looking blonde was oogling at her, sitting on the other side of the hooded man beside her.
She whipped around, ponytail smacking him in the face. He was wearing semi-formal attire with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, having strange, curly eyebrows.
Before an obviously coquettish remark could drip from his lips, Amelié pushed past him and towards the exit, oblivious from the stares of the blue eyed man. She didn't have time for fools such as he, especially drooling over her like so.
Stepping out, her disgruntled and slightly annoyed demeanor eventually cascaded into awe. Glittering and chic skyscrapers soared into the heavens, the citizens of the utopia equally alluring and stimulating. Dazzled and confused, she looked around, and then shifted to the crowd ahead. They seemed to hold the same amazement and upheaval as her..
She first spotted a sort of 'omnic' - in her terms - dressed as a chef. Robots were known to hold information and could possibly be a resident of said city. Before she could cross over to the chef robot, a husky voice interrupted.
"Hey. Do you have any idea what's going on? I have no idea where I am."
Amelié twirled around to face a snow-haired man with cat-like eyes, nearly the same color as hers; he was fit, and taller than her. He overall appeared normal despite his eyes.
"Hell if I know, I woke up on that train a few minutes ago."
It was the fellow passenger that spoke up, now beginning to flick her golden eyes between the two.
The newest man had a mysterious vibe, more to his average appearance than what meets the eye.
"I have no clue such as he." She nodded, her tone naturally alluring but with a hint of harshness and frost.
Ameliés arms folded over her chest, shifting her furrowed gaze to the crowd and city. "It appears everyone is confused, oui?"
She knew she had to be weary, especially in such a strange setting. However, the assassin might as well get information out of them before wandering mindlessly into the city.
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BarrenThin2
Senior Member
Stranded in the Light
ALEX MERCER
Spring in Canada was always a beautiful time, especially if one was travelling through its vibrant countrysides. The sun was shining brightly just above the pristine white clouds, illuminating the blooming flowers of hundreds of different colours, light glinting off the morning dew. Snow-capped mountains in the distance were covered in a layer of fog wafting through the lower-lying reaches. Flocks of birds flew by overhead, searching for a meal or mate, while various forms of wildlife roamed the ground. The occasional grunting of moose could be heard in the distance.
Standing at the shore of Lake Moraine was Alex Mercer, his hooded form unmoving and his head bowed. He was staring at his reflection in the calm blue-green water. His eyes paid no attention to anything else around him, only the tiny waves and his own reflection. It was clear that he was deep in thought, lost in them, in fact. Away from humanity was something he had wanted to do, while searching for his own.
Alex wasn't human, and he knew that. He honestly didn't know who or what he was supposed to be at this point. Was he the Gentek researcher who headed the development of the deadly Blacklight virus, the man who released it out of spite, or was he the virus itself given shape and form, responsible for all the millions of deaths at Manhattan all those months ago? He didn't know. It was one of the reasons why he decided to travel the world in the first place.
His thoughts went back to his, or rather, the original Alex Mercer's biological sister, Dana. He hadn't heard anything from Ragland yet, so he could only assume that she was still in a coma. She had been in one for months. Alex wasn't even sure if she was going to wake up, and he was slowly beginning to lose hope. Dana was the only person he truly cared about, both Mercers.
Mercer sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. He closed his eyes and let his senses overwhelm him, the sounds of the forest and gentle lapping of waves intensifying.
---------------------
The Hype Train/Train Station
(Wtf am I supposed to call it?)
Alex's cold blue eyes shot open and he sat upright with a gasp. He blinked, looking around. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure he wasn't experiencing the residual memories of his previous meals. When he was certain he wasn't, confusion began to overtake him. He was in a train car, that was for sure. All trains looked similar, no matter where in the world. It was still moving, if the gentle rocking was any indication. He blinked again and looked out the window, now suddenly noticing that it was night outside, when it should have been mid-morning.
He blinked again, beginning to theorise that he had somehow drifted off and subconsciously dipped into the life of a previous victim, and made his way over to a train, as it was a fragment of the victim's life. However, he quickly rooted that theory out as being impossible, since the train didn't look like the Canadian ones, and it was much fancier, too.
The sight of a city in the distance caught his attention, shining brightly in the night like a beacon. The train seemed to be heading towards it. Through his enhanced vision, he could tell that it wasn't any city he knew. It was illuminated far too brightly, the light from thousands of electric lights bathing the vehicle in a warm, artificial glow.
Eventually, after several more minutes of travel, the vehicle came to a steady stop, and the doors slid open. Alex glanced out and his eyes widened in disbelief as the sights of many, many different figures in strange and outlandish outfits walking around, along with hulking giants straight out of a fantasy novel, and bizarre humanoid insects.
Hesitantly at first, he stepped off the train and onto the platform, a cacophony of sound immediately greeting his senses. Movement next to him caught his attention , and he turned to see a woman with purple skin and a jumpsuit that showed off an absurd amount of skin stepping off behind him. He stared at her, unsure of whether he should ask her where he was. But given the equally confused expression on her face, that would probably raise more questions than answers.
A grainy voice not far from him snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see a man in a white shirt and pants standing there. His oddly white hair was long and messy, and his face unshaven. For whatever reason, he had slit cat-like yellow eyes. Alex studied him for a few moments with his own electric blue eyes, himself practically giving off an aura of pure menace.
"Hell if I know," Alex replied in his own grainy voice and a shrug. "I woke up on that train a few minutes ago."
Said cat-like eyes peered back at Alex from under his unkempt mane as the man seemed to be sizing him up. Of course, he was doing the same right back. Geralt may not be the most sociable person, or the most inclined to interacting with people, but something about Alex was... off-putting. Naturally, that made him feel a creeping sense of wariness, but Geralt wasn't one to jump to conclusions about someone just based off of the first words they said. At least, not unless he was being paid to. When the man spoke, he might as well have been shouting gibberish at the Witcher. "Train? What the Hell is that? For that matter, what the Hell is any of this?" Geralt swept his hands outwards towards the buildings, people, men made of metal, and, finally, their odd clothing.
He shook his head. "Are we dead?" Though the question was a bit morbid, his tone was calm, albeit reserved. Death wasn't exactly something he'd been looking forward to, after all, and he'd hoped to put it off until he was at least as old as Vesemir.
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prologue
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"Amelié!"
The raspy and thick voice of Reaper crackled over her earpiece, flooding her ears with cognizance. Her cadmium yellow eyes widened, a flash of dubiety dancing across her eccentric orbs.
She removed her gaze from the scope of her reputable sniper rifle, her muscles relaxing the slightest as she stared ahead.
The rectangular window was empty, leaving only the ghost of her target and the barren walls.
"You lost our target." Gabriel growled, Sombra cutting in with a snicker. "Way to go púrpura ass." The Latina teased, though Widowmaker didn't take it lightly. "Weren't you the last one that was with Katya..?" The assassin hissed back, hinting to the 'failed' mission in Volskaya Industries.
The line went silent, before Gabe cut in.
"Let's just get back to base. I'll speak with you later, Amelie."
The femme fatale sat back, holding Widows Kiss loosely at her side. A sigh escaped her pouty, purple-blue lips, her back pressing against the wall before she slowly sunk down.
She wearily tossed her visor to the side before her hands met her head. Her fingers raked their way up her scalp until they entangled in her dark locks, lowering her head.
She remained in this position for a while, running through the events that just played out, whilst a war of her consciousness broke out.
The ballerina Amelié began to pick away at the brain that made her Widowmaker, whisperings of her to stop and guilt beginning to lie thick upon her shoulders. The monster that Talon made seethed and clawed, striving her best to overpower that innocent Amelié.
However, it seemed the creation of Talon was beginning to crumble like the ruins of Greece. The beautiful and seemingly immortal marble beginning to crack and make its slow descent from its towering pillars; Slowly reducing to residue, just like all the neural reconditioning.
Breath heavy and heart pounding, she reluctantly got to her feet..
She would report to Moira and solve the predicament.
Widowmaker hoped this would cease, seeing as it cost another target lost.. But, why did a guilty feeling of relief bloom in her stomach?
---
The clicks of her heel filled the seemingly hostile halls, looming over her as if she were no longer accepted here, as if she were a foreigner to this base. Regardless, her features remained blank and her eyes piercing and cold.
She reached the middle of the hall, finding a lonely row of identical chairs that were never filled. In Ameliés opinion, they were useless. Only crazy or ignorant people would seek the assistance of the scientist. However, Widowmaker needed her. She was one of the few people who knew how her brainwashing functioned and she could possibly isolate the problem and eradicate it.
Minutes had passed and the clock ticking overhead began to lull her. By the time Moira emerged from her office, the cold-blooded killer was fast asleep. The ginger let out a soft chuckle, rousing Amelié with a slender and long-nailed hand, beginning to direct her to a sort of chair you would see at a dentist.
The French woman told her of her problems, the other woman nodding, piqued. With a natural smirk and a temporary farewell, Amelié faded into darkness..[/div][/div][/div]
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Amelié awoke with a sharp inhale, eyes flying open to reveal she was devoured by endless darkness. She swiveled her head left and right, slowing her breaths as she quickly calmed herself. Her slender hand began to brush against the objects around her, meeting wool, wood, and then linen. Her hands continued to explore the area as she tried to depict where she was at.
The sound began to give her hints though. The rumble of the locomotive reverberated throughout the slightly unknown area.
Standing, she realized she was in some sort of transportation.. A train most likely?
A soft screech shook her thoughts, the train lurching forward slightly. Her hands desperately jutted out to latch onto the seat in front of her, avoiding from slumping over and/or embarrassingly falling.
After stabilizing herself, Widowmaker glared around the seeming void, making out dim silhouettes of seats - empty apparently.
What the hell did Moira do..
Her lip curled and her features contorted into a scowl, cursing in French under her breath. "I knew that damn scientist was shadier than Sombra.."
Amelié paused. There was a familiar weight on her back, a welcoming one in fact. Reaching back, she heaved her Widows Kiss. The purple and black metal glowing faintly in the twilight. It seemed as if more light was very gradually beginning to pour into the train, but to the point where it was barely noticeable.
A satisfied smirk tugged at her lips, though confusion failed to evade. She didn't carry her weapons or any of her equipment into Moira's office, just her usual uniform. She understood of the absence of the heavy visor sitting on her dark-purple hair, her grappling hook, and even her venom mines. But why Widows Kiss of all things? Did Moira ship her off to some weird event - it sort of reminded her of a very ancient movie.. Something about being Hungry and Games being played. She could never remember the title, nor did she care.
Before she could wander - and stumble - through the blackness, luminescence pierced her gaze, causing her to withdraw. A grunt poured from her lips, stunned as she began to take in the entire train cart.
There were.. other people? Or were they even people? Humanoids, fantasy-like characters, and nearly normal humans. In fact, a rather normal looking blonde was oogling at her, sitting on the other side of the hooded man beside her.
She whipped around, ponytail smacking him in the face. He was wearing semi-formal attire with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, having strange, curly eyebrows.
Before an obviously coquettish remark could drip from his lips, Amelié pushed past him and towards the exit, oblivious from the stares of the blue eyed man. She didn't have time for fools such as he, especially drooling over her like so.
Stepping out, her disgruntled and slightly annoyed demeanor eventually cascaded into awe. Glittering and chic skyscrapers soared into the heavens, the citizens of the utopia equally alluring and stimulating. Dazzled and confused, she looked around, and then shifted to the crowd ahead. They seemed to hold the same amazement and upheaval as her..
She first spotted a sort of 'omnic' - in her terms - dressed as a chef. Robots were known to hold information and could possibly be a resident of said city. Before she could cross over to the chef robot, a husky voice interrupted.
"Hey. Do you have any idea what's going on? I have no idea where I am."
Amelié twirled around to face a snow-haired man with cat-like eyes, nearly the same color as hers; he was fit, and taller than her. He overall appeared normal despite his eyes.
"Hell if I know, I woke up on that train a few minutes ago."
It was the fellow passenger that spoke up, now beginning to flick her golden eyes between the two.
The newest man had a mysterious vibe, more to his average appearance than what meets the eye.
"I have no clue such as he." She nodded, her tone naturally alluring but with a hint of harshness and frost.
Ameliés arms folded over her chest, shifting her furrowed gaze to the crowd and city. "It appears everyone is confused, oui?"
She knew she had to be weary, especially in such a strange setting. However, the assassin might as well get information out of them before wandering mindlessly into the city.
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Up-close, the woman was beautiful, and she carried herself with a certain lethal grace. A deadly combination, and one he'd seen before; Though what she was wearing wasn't particularly well-suited for combat, that might entirely be the purpose of the outfit. Opponents lash out at the perceived weakness, only to find a blade waiting for them, or maybe even some kind of sorcery. Oddly, he felt like he'd need to be more cautious with the purple-skinned woman than he did with Alex. "You could say that." The witcher raised an eyebrow. "If we're not dead, then that means someone probably brought us here... Wherever here is." The witcher stopped and seemed to be wracking his brain for some sort of idea. All he could come back to was how impossible this all was.
"I was told once of buildings and places like this, but... well, I honestly didn't think it was actually possible. Not without some... world-traveling mumbo jumbo, anyways." He cast his mind to Ciri immediately, the brushed it off. Even if that's what was happening here, he didn't know if he could trust these people enough to share that kind of information with them. Besides, it was a crack-pot theory at best. He had no way to do the kind of things she did, after all.
uwupolice
Corrosion
"I was told once of buildings and places like this, but... well, I honestly didn't think it was actually possible. Not without some... world-traveling mumbo jumbo, anyways." He cast his mind to Ciri immediately, the brushed it off. Even if that's what was happening here, he didn't know if he could trust these people enough to share that kind of information with them. Besides, it was a crack-pot theory at best. He had no way to do the kind of things she did, after all.
uwupolice
Corrosion
Corrosion
ur lite fades awey
Alex gave the man an odd look. Did he seriously just ask what a train was? And what all this was? But Alex could tell he was just as confused as he was, so Alex decided that he might as well humour him in hopes that it at least give him some answers. "That's a train," Mercer cocked his head towards the railed vehicle. "And this is a train station." He motioned around the area. However, Alex understood that the man was asking just what everything was, the creatures, the people, the sights that were foreign to even Alex, even with his vast plethora of knowledge he had accumulated from the minds of hundreds of his previously consumed victims. "But if you're asking what everything here is," He motioned towards the oddly-dressed people and alien creatures. "Then I'm afraid that I'm at a loss for words. I'm also certain that we're not dead. Not yet."
"I have no clue such as he." Alex turned to hear that the purple-skinned woman had spoken in a rather sultry and seductive French accent. "It appears everyone is confused, oui?" Alex grunted at that. What were the chances of three people waking up on a train in an unfamiliar location with no memory of how they got there? He folded his arms and glanced around the station, noting everyone and everything that stepped off the train. He saw a little girl being attended to by an older man, a teenage boy with strawberry-blonde hair, a bizarre robot with a chef's hat, and a young man dressed in a white hoodie, black vest, and red skull cap.
Mercer frowned as the white-haired man began to formulate a theory. "What makes you think that?" He asked, sounding rather skeptical. "Why would anyone want to bring us here, and how would anyone just drop us on that train?" Truth be told, Alex was having trouble trying to come up with a theory himself. People didn't just appear out of thin air, and he would notice if someone tried to move him or whatever, given his heightened viral senses.
"I have no clue such as he." Alex turned to hear that the purple-skinned woman had spoken in a rather sultry and seductive French accent. "It appears everyone is confused, oui?" Alex grunted at that. What were the chances of three people waking up on a train in an unfamiliar location with no memory of how they got there? He folded his arms and glanced around the station, noting everyone and everything that stepped off the train. He saw a little girl being attended to by an older man, a teenage boy with strawberry-blonde hair, a bizarre robot with a chef's hat, and a young man dressed in a white hoodie, black vest, and red skull cap.
Mercer frowned as the white-haired man began to formulate a theory. "What makes you think that?" He asked, sounding rather skeptical. "Why would anyone want to bring us here, and how would anyone just drop us on that train?" Truth be told, Alex was having trouble trying to come up with a theory himself. People didn't just appear out of thin air, and he would notice if someone tried to move him or whatever, given his heightened viral senses.
ManyFaces
Devil's Advocate
Maxwell listened intently, raising a brow. So this fellow was a herald of some other existence given his title. Maxwell was the more formal type, however the herald's title was quite long "Well Patrick, I am Maxwell the Magnificent! However Maxwell will do just fine given my position as of late." Maxwell said, he paused as a thought occured to him, "Say, if you had better... Materials, would you be able to figure more of this place out?" The magician's mind was set to work on figuring out this new world he was thrust into and making allies seemed like a good way to start.
Daunting_Doggo
Daunting_Doggo
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jigglesworth
Some words you just read.
After drawing on the wall, the girl looked as if she blacked out. When she woke up, she was obviously very frightened, saying something in her language and stepping away from Corvo. Was it something he said? Well it couldn't have been, she can't understand him. He raised his hands up, as if he was surrendering. "Hey, hey, hey, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," he calmly stated, making sure not to move towards her in fear of seeming more threatening, if that was even the case. He looked back to the drawings to figure out what triggered her. She seemed to only react spontaneously to the latest drawing, about finding her parents. Why would finding her parents scare her? Unless, of course, she comes from a not-so-happy family. He folded his sword and stuffed it away, before pointing towards the parents in the latest picture. As he did that, he looked towards her with a questioning face. "Do you not want to find your parents?" Corvo asked, his other hand still raised in the air, as he shook his head "no". Maybe that, coupled with his expression, would give her enough to go off of. Either it's her parents, or Corvo himself, and if it's the latter case than putting away his sword might help a little bit to ease the situation.
marc122
marc122
QizPizza
Not Quiznos
marc122
chew
jigglesworth
Asuka took Corvo's claims of not wanting to kill her with a grain of salt. She still held the belief that the assassin is the kind of guy that would allow someone like her mother to perform heinous acts to her. The stoic seriousness, the no-nonsense-ness tag to him, it was enough to resemble how her father acted to the point where it would trigger her PTSD, causing said suspicions as mentioned earlier. She now did not want him to be her adoptive parent, or partner. Because of that, she decided to maintain a distance between him and the child.
As for the question Asuka was asked, she assumed that he was asking her if she does not want to find her parents, she repeatedly shook her head, making her answer very much clear to him.
jigglesworth
Some words you just read.
Right, so she did not want to find her parents, and she answered so vigorously. "Okay, no parents, got it." Corvo makes a slicing gesture at the last picture, telling her he understands. Albeit, he still feels it is him as well who frightened the child, whether it's his demeanor or something else. In case she is scared of him as well, he points towards the little figure of himself that he cut into the wall, and gave her the same look as before while shaking his head. This is to understand whether or not she wants to be near Corvo right now, considering what had just unfolded. The last thing he wants to do right now is frighten a young girl, and that seems to be the first thing he has done since he arrived in this city, in this train station. He only hopes he can work out the situation, but if she wants him to walk away, of course, that's what he'll do.
marc122
marc122
DapperDogman
The Banished One
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"Amelié!"
The raspy and thick voice of Reaper crackled over her earpiece, flooding her ears with cognizance. Her cadmium yellow eyes widened, a flash of dubiety dancing across her eccentric orbs.
She removed her gaze from the scope of her reputable sniper rifle, her muscles relaxing the slightest as she stared ahead.
The rectangular window was empty, leaving only the ghost of her target and the barren walls.
"You lost our target." Gabriel growled, Sombra cutting in with a snicker. "Way to go púrpura ass." The Latina teased, though Widowmaker didn't take it lightly. "Weren't you the last one that was with Katya..?" The assassin hissed back, hinting to the 'failed' mission in Volskaya Industries.
The line went silent, before Gabe cut in.
"Let's just get back to base. I'll speak with you later, Amelie."
The femme fatale sat back, holding Widows Kiss loosely at her side. A sigh escaped her pouty, purple-blue lips, her back pressing against the wall before she slowly sunk down.
She wearily tossed her visor to the side before her hands met her head. Her fingers raked their way up her scalp until they entangled in her dark locks, lowering her head.
She remained in this position for a while, running through the events that just played out, whilst a war of her consciousness broke out.
The ballerina Amelié began to pick away at the brain that made her Widowmaker, whisperings of her to stop and guilt beginning to lie thick upon her shoulders. The monster that Talon made seethed and clawed, striving her best to overpower that innocent Amelié.
However, it seemed the creation of Talon was beginning to crumble like the ruins of Greece. The beautiful and seemingly immortal marble beginning to crack and make its slow descent from its towering pillars; Slowly reducing to residue, just like all the neural reconditioning.
Breath heavy and heart pounding, she reluctantly got to her feet..
She would report to Moira and solve the predicament.
Widowmaker hoped this would cease, seeing as it cost another target lost.. But, why did a guilty feeling of relief bloom in her stomach?
---
The clicks of her heel filled the seemingly hostile halls, looming over her as if she were no longer accepted here, as if she were a foreigner to this base. Regardless, her features remained blank and her eyes piercing and cold.
She reached the middle of the hall, finding a lonely row of identical chairs that were never filled. In Ameliés opinion, they were useless. Only crazy or ignorant people would seek the assistance of the scientist. However, Widowmaker needed her. She was one of the few people who knew how her brainwashing functioned and she could possibly isolate the problem and eradicate it.
Minutes had passed and the clock ticking overhead began to lull her. By the time Moira emerged from her office, the cold-blooded killer was fast asleep. The ginger let out a soft chuckle, rousing Amelié with a slender and long-nailed hand, beginning to direct her to a sort of chair you would see at a dentist.
The French woman told her of her problems, the other woman nodding, piqued. With a natural smirk and a temporary farewell, Amelié faded into darkness..[/div][/div][/div]
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Amelié awoke with a sharp inhale, eyes flying open to reveal she was devoured by endless darkness. She swiveled her head left and right, slowing her breaths as she quickly calmed herself. Her slender hand began to brush against the objects around her, meeting wool, wood, and then linen. Her hands continued to explore the area as she tried to depict where she was at.
The sound began to give her hints though. The rumble of the locomotive reverberated throughout the slightly unknown area.
Standing, she realized she was in some sort of transportation.. A train most likely?
A soft screech shook her thoughts, the train lurching forward slightly. Her hands desperately jutted out to latch onto the seat in front of her, avoiding from slumping over and/or embarrassingly falling.
After stabilizing herself, Widowmaker glared around the seeming void, making out dim silhouettes of seats - empty apparently.
What the hell did Moira do..
Her lip curled and her features contorted into a scowl, cursing in French under her breath. "I knew that damn scientist was shadier than Sombra.."
Amelié paused. There was a familiar weight on her back, a welcoming one in fact. Reaching back, she heaved her Widows Kiss. The purple and black metal glowing faintly in the twilight. It seemed as if more light was very gradually beginning to pour into the train, but to the point where it was barely noticeable.
A satisfied smirk tugged at her lips, though confusion failed to evade. She didn't carry her weapons or any of her equipment into Moira's office, just her usual uniform. She understood of the absence of the heavy visor sitting on her dark-purple hair, her grappling hook, and even her venom mines. But why Widows Kiss of all things? Did Moira ship her off to some weird event - it sort of reminded her of a very ancient movie.. Something about being Hungry and Games being played. She could never remember the title, nor did she care.
Before she could wander - and stumble - through the blackness, luminescence pierced her gaze, causing her to withdraw. A grunt poured from her lips, stunned as she began to take in the entire train cart.
There were.. other people? Or were they even people? Humanoids, fantasy-like characters, and nearly normal humans. In fact, a rather normal looking blonde was oogling at her, sitting on the other side of the hooded man beside her.
She whipped around, ponytail smacking him in the face. He was wearing semi-formal attire with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, having strange, curly eyebrows.
Before an obviously coquettish remark could drip from his lips, Amelié pushed past him and towards the exit, oblivious from the stares of the blue eyed man. She didn't have time for fools such as he, especially drooling over her like so.
Stepping out, her disgruntled and slightly annoyed demeanor eventually cascaded into awe. Glittering and chic skyscrapers soared into the heavens, the citizens of the utopia equally alluring and stimulating. Dazzled and confused, she looked around, and then shifted to the crowd ahead. They seemed to hold the same amazement and upheaval as her..
She first spotted a sort of 'omnic' - in her terms - dressed as a chef. Robots were known to hold information and could possibly be a resident of said city. Before she could cross over to the chef robot, a husky voice interrupted.
"Hey. Do you have any idea what's going on? I have no idea where I am."
Amelié twirled around to face a snow-haired man with cat-like eyes, nearly the same color as hers; he was fit, and taller than her. He overall appeared normal despite his eyes.
"Hell if I know, I woke up on that train a few minutes ago."
It was the fellow passenger that spoke up, now beginning to flick her golden eyes between the two.
The newest man had a mysterious vibe, more to his average appearance than what meets the eye.
"I have no clue such as he." She nodded, her tone naturally alluring but with a hint of harshness and frost.
Ameliés arms folded over her chest, shifting her furrowed gaze to the crowd and city. "It appears everyone is confused, oui?"
She knew she had to be weary, especially in such a strange setting. However, the assassin might as well get information out of them before wandering mindlessly into the city.
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Standing idly, CHEF had been running through his databanks, pouring over file after file, trying to isolate whatever command had nearly driven him to harming a customer, however it seemed it had up and vanished. How peculiar.
His line of thought was interrupted when a strong French accent pierced the mess of noise around him, causing his head to swivel suddenly.
As he moved through the crowd towards its source, he found that the voice came from the woman who it would have seemed should be dead. "Mademoiselle, are you aware that your heart rate is dangerously low?" he asks, before turning his attention to Geralt for a moment "Sir" he says, tipping his head slightly "May I inquire as to why yourself and the hooded gentleman there are both showing high levels of genetic diversion from human DNA from any time period I have on log?" he glances between the Witcher and Mercer slowly " Even the extensive databanks dating back before the great war of 2019 don't hold anything quite like your level of genetic mutation" the robot seemed more intrigued than concerned, though.
His cold optical sensors rested over the blue woman before him once more, a spark of something within them. Almost...Awareness, as though the cold, calcluated machine housed something more. He paused for a moment, before turning his focus to the cityscape before him, soaking in the view. This was not the Earth he knew, that much was clear.
BarrenThin2
uwupolice
Corrosion
FactionGuerrilla
I'll do what I can.
Frank seemed kind of skeptical and suspicious as Lann spoke. His slang was certainly not American- what the hell were 'chocobo feathers', anyways?- and since the kid seemed to have a spike of pain or something, it made him frown once more. However, the frown quickly vanished before Lann could see it. The American continued listening, processing what the boy said.
Someone was supposed to come with this kid? Probably a chaperone or something, Woods assumed. And the boy confirmed that he had no clue where they were, either. Under normal circumstances, the American would have just dumped this kid at the nearest Lost-and-Found kiosk and leave him to be found by his parents or whatever. But he said something about never knowing what was going on around him. It might be best to keep the kid stuck next to him, since he had absolutely no clue whether this place was safe or not. Hopefully so- most huge-assed cities were in his experience, unless there were some God-damned Commie NVAs lurking right around the corner.
"Well, the name's Frank. Frank Woods. And if you had a parent that came with ya, we better find them too." The soldier noted duly, before reaching over to his handheld radio and activating it. It was already set to the default frequency that he, Hudson, and Mason used for the most part, so he didn't need to tune it.
"Hudson, Mason, this is Woods- come in, over." Nothing. Not a single word- not even radio static. Neither Alex nor Jason spoke on the radio, and this was disturbing. It was like they weren't there at all- or even dead. The soldier felt the sinking feeling in his stomach from his dream once more- was this somehow related to his nightmare before waking in the train? That can't be right if his kneecaps were still intact, right? His frown turned into a smaller scowl as he switched frequencies, matching his radio with the default, "HQ" frequency. Maybe he could get some answers from someone else.
"Frank Woods to HQ, does anyone read me?" More silence. It was one thing if his squadmates weren't speaking- but when HQ itself didn't answer, it almost always means trouble. He grunted in frustration, taking his hand off the radio before glancing over to Lann, tightening his jaw as he thought to himself quietly.
Dammit, nobody's here- guess I'll just have to think for myself. The train seems nice, maybe even prototypical by the looks of it. Probably commercial. We got skyscrapers that probably rival the fucking Empire State itself, and cars even nicer than the ones back at home- hell, that limo was blaring some kinda different song. I don't think we're in Dress-Up-As-A-Giant-Tin-Man-Day, if you could even make a damn costume like that, but everyone looks a hell of a lot more different. Like crazy space freaks that jumped out of a comic or something- Woods paused, the nearby boy's smoke bolt catching his eye, before also glancing towards the purple woman, her rifle sticking out most notably to him (he wasn't really interested in her overly-exposed skin anyways)- with powers and guns that match. We all don't know where the fuck we are- at very least, the boy and I do, not sure about the others but judging by their looks they're just as confused as we are- and HQ isn't around. Nothing adds up at all. None of this can make sense under normal circumstances. Maybe it's a dream?
Frank pinched his cheek for a moment, hard enough that it hurt, but nothing changed at all. Letting his hands fall, he also took a small glance towards his healing palm- at this point, it was completely gone. Like nothing had happened to it. He felt his palm with his other hand- it was like baby skin, as though he had never cut his hand in the first place.
...And I seem to have some kinda weird-ass healing thing, I guess? Hell, I gotta stop thinking and start doing things- like maybe make a theory or something, pretend I'm fucking Al Einstein. Woods exhaled before glancing towards Lann.
"Alright, kid. Guess it's just you and me- but I'm guessing a load of other folks 'round here have no clue where we are- or even when, for that matter." He had the notion that he was kind of vulnerable- having a gun in his palms would make him feel better. Reaching for his pistol holster, the soldier tried to grab his M1911- only to realize he didn't have it. All he had on him was his bandolier- still full of his M16 and 1911 magazines- his gloves, and the bandanna on his head. Everything else- even his trusty knife- was gone. He cursed under his breath before exhaling, looking up at Farna.
"You don't happen to know what the date is, do ya? I dunno, maybe somewhere around June, July 1968, by the looks of it?" Even while asking this question, the brown-haired man felt his stomach drop even further, as if he had a gut feeling that the boy didn't even know that.
Drakerus
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domisunique
Let your imagination run wild.
The Stranger found himself in a strange place a place where he was just one of the many strangers walking along the street. He looked around calmly, taking in his surroundings. As he did this he thought over his previous moments... He'd just defeated The Star, and after that he wasn't quite sure. He noticed now that he no longer corrupted the world under his feet, he no longer destroyed the soil he tread on or the life that he interacted with. The other observation he came across was that he was unarmed, he had neither his sword or his gun. He had nothing to fight with but... did he even need to fight? If he had any feeling on the matter he didn't show them although he did realize he felt lacking in his powers. He felt neither as quick or strong or durable as he once was, he was out of battle shape. Nonetheless he began looking around, looking across the streets for some objective, or some notice.
He eventually came to the conclusion that he must find why he is here, what brought him here, and what has happened to the planet that he fought so much for to, set foot on and then defend in a betrayal against his own kind. The Star was right, they'd come again. They would come back and since he was still alive he could defend against it again... but he would need to be their to do it. He needed to get back...
He eventually came to the conclusion that he must find why he is here, what brought him here, and what has happened to the planet that he fought so much for to, set foot on and then defend in a betrayal against his own kind. The Star was right, they'd come again. They would come back and since he was still alive he could defend against it again... but he would need to be their to do it. He needed to get back...
archur
watch for the flash
Despite his musings on where he might be, he figured he might be on some sort of scum craftworld, like Lugganath? He always knew that his species was superior to others, but the strange constructions and variation of material that made up the structure he was in made him doubt that by the slightest. Crude mon'keigh technology blended with that of wonders seen before The Fall. He stepped away from his perch, struggling to understand his current place in the physical plane, as he was sure that he was in the physical plane.
He stumbled onward in a daze, simply trying to mentally deconstruct the biology of the blue creature directly ahead of him, it's light purple form flickering as he approached it. The creature turned to him, it's neck jittering as it twitched to face him, it's entire segmented body fully swerving to meet him. Felnor did not like whatever this thing was, and as it approached him, he began to slowly back away until it launched himself at him, to which he launched himself into a front flip, the cry of the creature accentuating his landing.
"New, new, new, Hologame! Slash demons and save the princess in Hackblade!" The strange flickering creature was met with a faceless warrior who easily cut down the demon as it blared nonsense about a 'Hologame'.
The harlequin cocked his head, and approached the warrior, who held his blade up into the air, over the vanquished beast. Felnor bent over to meet it face to face, waving his hand in front of the warrior before a massive symbol popped in front of his face. A few more symbols in what he could assume as mon'keigh low gothic popped into existence over the unflinching mask of the harlequin, who attempted to pluck them out of the air, his fingers failing to find purchase on the ephemeral letters.
Peeved at his interaction with the little shouting spirits, he straightened himself, and walked inwards to the city. It was when he saw another one of those strangely colored creatures surrounded by a group of (presumably) mon'keigh. He thought nothing of it, knowing it was bound to ignore him and his questions, and he walked right through the strange purple warp projection into the city.
Except, he didn't, somehow. This was an actual, living, breathing, being. He recoiled from having so blindly walked into somebody else, having done a backflip to save himself from touching the ground.
He brushed himself off, and wiped his hands off on his cloak. He stood completely still for a moment, processing exactly what had just happened. Were the rules different here? Who was real, and who wasn't? Determined to find out, but skeptical on the potential repercussions of his actions, he strayed backwards from the group of misfits.
"Yr wyf yn gwrthod ymddwyn yn mon'keigh fel eich hun, ond fe'i gorfodir oherwydd eich arfau a'ch rhifau." (I normally refuse to even apologize to lesser lifeforms, but your weapons and numbers seem to require me to do so.)
He stepped backwards again, a precautionary measure, and bowed once, before speaking another line.
" 'Fy ymddiheuriadau.' " ('Apologies.') He simply added, his head still bowed before looking up to meet the eyes of the strange, strange 'mon'keigh'. He would think that AI would be eradicated after mankind's earliest mishap with the men of iron, and that only Adeptas Sororitas would have white hair, but he couldn't say anything about these strange humans, and their strange hooded matters.
"Mae'ch iaith yn ofnadwy ac felly ydych chi." (Your language is horrible and so are you.) He mumbled, ready to receive a typical verbal barrage of angered speech from the 'human' he had bumped into, only standing there out of common courtesy.
BarrenThin2
uwupolice
Corrosion
DapperDogman
He stumbled onward in a daze, simply trying to mentally deconstruct the biology of the blue creature directly ahead of him, it's light purple form flickering as he approached it. The creature turned to him, it's neck jittering as it twitched to face him, it's entire segmented body fully swerving to meet him. Felnor did not like whatever this thing was, and as it approached him, he began to slowly back away until it launched himself at him, to which he launched himself into a front flip, the cry of the creature accentuating his landing.
"New, new, new, Hologame! Slash demons and save the princess in Hackblade!" The strange flickering creature was met with a faceless warrior who easily cut down the demon as it blared nonsense about a 'Hologame'.
The harlequin cocked his head, and approached the warrior, who held his blade up into the air, over the vanquished beast. Felnor bent over to meet it face to face, waving his hand in front of the warrior before a massive symbol popped in front of his face. A few more symbols in what he could assume as mon'keigh low gothic popped into existence over the unflinching mask of the harlequin, who attempted to pluck them out of the air, his fingers failing to find purchase on the ephemeral letters.
Peeved at his interaction with the little shouting spirits, he straightened himself, and walked inwards to the city. It was when he saw another one of those strangely colored creatures surrounded by a group of (presumably) mon'keigh. He thought nothing of it, knowing it was bound to ignore him and his questions, and he walked right through the strange purple warp projection into the city.
Except, he didn't, somehow. This was an actual, living, breathing, being. He recoiled from having so blindly walked into somebody else, having done a backflip to save himself from touching the ground.
He brushed himself off, and wiped his hands off on his cloak. He stood completely still for a moment, processing exactly what had just happened. Were the rules different here? Who was real, and who wasn't? Determined to find out, but skeptical on the potential repercussions of his actions, he strayed backwards from the group of misfits.
"Yr wyf yn gwrthod ymddwyn yn mon'keigh fel eich hun, ond fe'i gorfodir oherwydd eich arfau a'ch rhifau." (I normally refuse to even apologize to lesser lifeforms, but your weapons and numbers seem to require me to do so.)
He stepped backwards again, a precautionary measure, and bowed once, before speaking another line.
" 'Fy ymddiheuriadau.' " ('Apologies.') He simply added, his head still bowed before looking up to meet the eyes of the strange, strange 'mon'keigh'. He would think that AI would be eradicated after mankind's earliest mishap with the men of iron, and that only Adeptas Sororitas would have white hair, but he couldn't say anything about these strange humans, and their strange hooded matters.
"Mae'ch iaith yn ofnadwy ac felly ydych chi." (Your language is horrible and so are you.) He mumbled, ready to receive a typical verbal barrage of angered speech from the 'human' he had bumped into, only standing there out of common courtesy.
BarrenThin2
uwupolice
Corrosion
DapperDogman
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Rhysie
“I’ll name my first born, Loader Bot”
After looking at the station map and without any answer, the man who was known for literally enslaving his daughter and being a corporate megalomaniac decided to go and look for someone to approach at, and at the moment, Jack approached someone and asked “Do you know where am I? I’ve already tried looking at the maps but that didn’t help, so mind instructing me?” Before trying to gather around more people and find out for himself as he did this
domisunique
domisunique
Drakerus
Friendly Doge
Frank seemed kind of skeptical and suspicious as Lann spoke. His slang was certainly not American- what the hell were 'chocobo feathers', anyways?- and since the kid seemed to have a spike of pain or something, it made him frown once more. However, the frown quickly vanished before Lann could see it. The American continued listening, processing what the boy said.
Someone was supposed to come with this kid? Probably a chaperone or something, Woods assumed. And the boy confirmed that he had no clue where they were, either. Under normal circumstances, the American would have just dumped this kid at the nearest Lost-and-Found kiosk and leave him to be found by his parents or whatever. But he said something about never knowing what was going on around him. It might be best to keep the kid stuck next to him, since he had absolutely no clue whether this place was safe or not. Hopefully so- most huge-assed cities were in his experience, unless there were some God-damned Commie NVAs lurking right around the corner.
"Well, the name's Frank. Frank Woods. And if you had a parent that came with ya, we better find them too." The soldier noted duly, before reaching over to his handheld radio and activating it. It was already set to the default frequency that he, Hudson, and Mason used for the most part, so he didn't need to tune it.
"Hudson, Mason, this is Woods- come in, over." Nothing. Not a single word- not even radio static. Neither Alex nor Jason spoke on the radio, and this was disturbing. It was like they weren't there at all- or even dead. The soldier felt the sinking feeling in his stomach from his dream once more- was this somehow related to his nightmare before waking in the train? That can't be right if his kneecaps were still intact, right? His frown turned into a smaller scowl as he switched frequencies, matching his radio with the default, "HQ" frequency. Maybe he could get some answers from someone else.
"Frank Woods to HQ, does anyone read me?" More silence. It was one thing if his squadmates weren't speaking- but when HQ itself didn't answer, it almost always means trouble. He grunted in frustration, taking his hand off the radio before glancing over to Lann, tightening his jaw as he thought to himself quietly.
Dammit, nobody's here- guess I'll just have to think for myself. The train seems nice, maybe even prototypical by the looks of it. Probably commercial. We got skyscrapers that probably rival the fucking Empire State itself, and cars even nicer than the ones back at home- hell, that limo was blaring some kinda different song. I don't think we're in Dress-Up-As-A-Giant-Tin-Man-Day, if you could even make a damn costume like that, but everyone looks a hell of a lot more different. Like crazy space freaks that jumped out of a comic or something- Woods paused, the nearby boy's smoke bolt catching his eye, before also glancing towards the purple woman, her rifle sticking out most notably to him (he wasn't really interested in her overly-exposed skin anyways)- with powers and guns that match. We all don't know where the fuck we are- at very least, the boy and I do, not sure about the others but judging by their looks they're just as confused as we are- and HQ isn't around. Nothing adds up at all. None of this can make sense under normal circumstances. Maybe it's a dream?
Frank pinched his cheek for a moment, hard enough that it hurt, but nothing changed at all. Letting his hands fall, he also took a small glance towards his healing palm- at this point, it was completely gone. Like nothing had happened to it. He felt his palm with his other hand- it was like baby skin, as though he had never cut his hand in the first place.
...And I seem to have some kinda weird-ass healing thing, I guess? Hell, I gotta stop thinking and start doing things- like maybe make a theory or something, pretend I'm fucking Al Einstein. Woods exhaled before glancing towards Lann.
"Alright, kid. Guess it's just you and me- but I'm guessing a load of other folks 'round here have no clue where we are- or even when, for that matter." He had the notion that he was kind of vulnerable- having a gun in his palms would make him feel better. Reaching for his pistol holster, the soldier tried to grab his M1911- only to realize he didn't have it. All he had on him was his bandolier- still full of his M16 and 1911 magazines- his gloves, and the bandanna on his head. Everything else- even his trusty knife- was gone. He cursed under his breath before exhaling, looking up at Farna.
"You don't happen to know what the date is, do ya? I dunno, maybe somewhere around June, July 1968, by the looks of it?" Even while asking this question, the brown-haired man felt his stomach drop even further, as if he had a gut feeling that the boy didn't even know that.
“Yeah, okay! Sounds like a plan as solid as an Adamantoise shell! I think...” Lann smiled and looked around. As expected though, everyone in the area was so vastly different that no one stood out. It was bizarre. He had no idea where to start. He turned back to Frank who seemed to be examining himself and his belongings which prompted Lann to do the same. Upon closer inspection, the boy found that his usual outfit was intact but there weren’t any signs of his potions, remedies, or spell stones. All he could find was a single cube-shaped crystal with a toy-looking object encased within.
Just one prismarium, huh... Well, it’s better than nothing.
When Frank asked him about the date, Lann put a hand to his chin in a thinking gesture for a long moment.
“It was...Mythril 5th? Sorry, I’m not great with remembering things...” He shrugs and glances at Frank’s belt. And his eyes widen with interest.
“Woah, what are those! They kind of look like magitech!” Lann exclaims, pointing at the firearms.
Daunting_Doggo
Not a dog anymore?
Pat didn't really listen to whatever Maxwell was saying, mostly because he was really bored. Now his most recent activity did get rid of some of the boredness and revealed something about this world but that isn't nearly enough to compare to what he used to do. "Man I don't know what this guy before is talking about but that fucking chin is sharp as an Astartes's chain sword, huge head tho-". He says as leaning back in order to look better at his face only to result in him falling backward landing with his head in a ditch.
He groaned as he slowly stood and touched where his head touched the ground, he then felt a slimy thing on it and as he removed it to smell it he was immediately able to determine the origin of the substance. He often had experience dealing with this white viscous liquid when dealing with homo sapien males. "Man whichever harlot did this she certainly didn't go all the way, maybe the guy got satisfied with a blow-". At that moment he looked up Maxwell with a look of inspiration.
He threw away the viscous material and then walked around Maxwell putting his hand around him; "Oh mate don't sell yourself short, you are certainly magnificent. But yes if you were able to procure better materials I could certainly determine more, your big head will certainly help with that... giggity.".
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darkred
Hmmmm
"Not exactly normal to see so many different types of creature, robots and people here. But not too unusual for me.
Jak, in particular was watching smoke raise out of Delsin's fingers and looked up "It's hard to explain but I can control the power of eco, or energy a bit. But it seems Delsin's powers.. were limited here just like his own.
Jak couldn't help but facepalm for a second and sighed "Name's Jak, Delsin." "But sure, let's go find someone who could tell us information about this city and get some spray paint.. for you."
The eco warrior had to smirk, he had his own streak like Delsin's.
Interacting with
QizPizza
marc122
chew
jigglesworth
"U--Und wenn du bei mir bleibst, wirst du wie Papa sein! Also los, Corvo! Geh! (A--And if you stay with me, you will be like Papa! So go, Corvo! Go!)"
Despite the fact that Corvo still doesn't understand her, Asuka, whose eyes were tearing up due to the sudden recalling of the memory, told him to fuck off somewhere anyway, now distrustful of him based on past experiences. She was also pointing towards an open direction, telling Corvo that further into Millennium City is where he should be heading according to the German. Afterwards, she heavily breathed, waiting for him to do so.
Despite the fact that Corvo still doesn't understand her, Asuka, whose eyes were tearing up due to the sudden recalling of the memory, told him to fuck off somewhere anyway, now distrustful of him based on past experiences. She was also pointing towards an open direction, telling Corvo that further into Millennium City is where he should be heading according to the German. Afterwards, she heavily breathed, waiting for him to do so.
Centurion_
yup im THE guy
'The birds should be hungry again soon.'
Niwatori thought to herself. Encountering Ox under these circumstances was the last thing that she could've possibly hoped would happen to her after failing to kill Monkey and Rat, she was in a dire situation and she needed to think.
'I could retreat and regroup for now...'
'...'
A smug grin crept onto the smile of the green-haired girl as it struck her.
She had found the idea she was looking for.
'If I could earn the Ox's trust and get him to turn his back...'
'Right now, Dotsuku's One Man Army drug has gifted me with overwhelming power, he doesn't know that.'
if it didn't work on Monkey; perhaps she could pull it off on somebody else, Dog had already fallen victim to her trickery, it seemed like a more than plausible idea in these conditions.
The two warriors eyed one-another down from either end of the street, prepared to do whatever it would take to come out on top in this skirmish.
The Ox clearly would be at a disadvantage if he were to underestimate the girl, she would have no trouble in carrying out a false alliance and crushing Ox in one swift strike.
But, Ox wasn't called the 'Genius of Slaughter' for no reason or as a simple rumor that surrounded his tales as a warrior.
"The fact that you bought up the Monkey earlier without me even prompting..."
"Does that mean the Monkey is nearby?"
Questioned the Ox.
Startled, surprised and shocked that he had picked up on what she had earlier said sparked something inside of her.
Something that she had never felt before.
A feeling that she needed to protect something.
Without thinking, Niwatori assumed a fighting position and aimed Cockscomb at her rival.
Noticing her actions, she looks down at her hands in confusion; a hint of anger in her eyes...
'What..? What am I do..-'
"Oh? Oh?" He taunted.
"Does this fighting attitude suggest that you will fight to protect the Monkey?"
"The old, 'If you want to pass you have to kill me first'?"
Her rival held out his arms, his sword had already drawn blood more than once, who knows how many he had already killed.
Niwatori tightened her stance, her feet grinding into the road she stood upon.
'He's right...'
'I'm not the type, but maybe this has to do with the mental effects of the One Man Army drug...'
Ox, continued to talk down to the girl; he had all the time in the world to spare.
In his eyes, she was just another target to him.
"I'd advise against this, a motivation like that won't make you strong."
"That isn't your righteousness, it's someone else's righteousness."
"You should only fight for yourself."
Niwatori scowled, grinding and gritting her teeth under the pressure of the situation; it had swung from terrible to a literal embodiment of hell for her.
'I know that...'
'I know that.'
'I know that better than you!'
His words.
'I have to get out of here.'
Her behavior.
'I need to lower Cockscomb and run, as quickly as I can!'
A life or death situation.
"Niwatori: Warrior of the Chicken, killing by pecking!"
"Ushii: Warrior of the Ox, killing systematically."
Do or die.
Ox readies his blade; one slice at the air before placing his free hand behind his back, beginning his run.
Now or never.
Ox was quick, like a fish in water.
He took a step back before driving his sword into the girl.
Survival of the fittest.
'I can win.'
Everything in her left eye went crimson suddenly.
The sword struck her face once more.
Everything turned to a blur.
Niwatori was cold.
It all began to fade away.
The gentle rock of a train carriage rose the girl out of her slumber.
She awoke with a distinct look of shock on her face.
'Is this... Heaven..?'
Confusion, a blur of sound, sight, smell and touch.
"THIS TRAIN TERMINATES HERE, PLEASE EXIT THE CARRIAGES"
'A train..? Did someone take me down into the subway of the city..?'
Reaching for Cockscomb, she noticed that her weapon was nowhere to felt; her sight returning to her she looked around frantically, tapping and touching her body to make sure that she was alright.
Everything seemed to check out fine, almost as if she just hadn't been stabbed by the 'Genius of Slaughter'. Twice.
Being one of the last people still on the train, she stumbled to the exit, grabbing every possible pole and chair to support herself along the way. The Chicken still felt a strong current of adrenaline and shock pumping through her veins, her heart felt light; almost as if she was weightless.
Unlike the city she had wandered to fight in prior to waking up, this station was bustling with people and for some reason; creatures and other strange beings too.
'What is this place..? Where am I..?'
'Is the Juuni Taisen over..?'
Crowd after crowd, people brushed past and carried on.
One after one, crowd after crowd.
She couldn't focus.
She was panicking.
It became hard to breathe.
Until...
Open air, outside the station, the City was bristling with life and people.
Taking in a few deep breaths, Niwatori calms herself down.
'It looks like I've been given a second chance...'
Haz.
Mask? I wear no mask.
What a strange sight to behold.
The aura of awe gagging the otherworldly passengers morphed into a strange, tame curiosity. Around the corner of an alleyway, beside the station's gate bookworms Maxwell and Pat perpetuated their... Questionable conversation, the stench of the late, unnamed homeless man's blood leaking from the Chaos Sorcerer's scrapped paper. Loners Jak and Delsin were seemingly warming up to each other almost instantly, ready to set off in search of answers (and spray paint). And, misfits CHEF, Widowmaker, Geralt, and Mercer already seemed to be forming quite a deadly pact, despite the lack of their full arsenals.
The many who had found themselves lost in an expansive world full of wonders and dangers alike would not remain clueless for much longer, as a loud clanking and rattling from one, single, sky-blue mailbox beside the entrance stairway of the railway drew their united attention like a gaze-magnet. Not even a mere moment after, the tiny hatch miraculously blew open, showering the people in letters and envelopes.
Despite that, however, no one except the newly-arrived wanderers seemed to notice. Not a single bat of an eyelash from the passersby, as though it was intended merely for you, and no one else.
Whatever will you do, oh-great travellers?
Noivian
domisunique
Centurion_
Daunting_Doggo
Rhysie
Chungchangching
Communist
TrueBananaz
doggodaily
Best Trekkie.
DailyRoLord
Sebluc
darkred
FactionGuerrilla
marc122
Rysesaka
Zamasu
Corrosion
Drakerus
jigglesworth
Le Fuzzy Maraca
YellowTemperence
ManyFaces
BarrenThin2
uwupolice
DapperDogman
archur
official clown business
QizPizza
D DarkKnight375
Caffeine Freak
The aura of awe gagging the otherworldly passengers morphed into a strange, tame curiosity. Around the corner of an alleyway, beside the station's gate bookworms Maxwell and Pat perpetuated their... Questionable conversation, the stench of the late, unnamed homeless man's blood leaking from the Chaos Sorcerer's scrapped paper. Loners Jak and Delsin were seemingly warming up to each other almost instantly, ready to set off in search of answers (and spray paint). And, misfits CHEF, Widowmaker, Geralt, and Mercer already seemed to be forming quite a deadly pact, despite the lack of their full arsenals.
The many who had found themselves lost in an expansive world full of wonders and dangers alike would not remain clueless for much longer, as a loud clanking and rattling from one, single, sky-blue mailbox beside the entrance stairway of the railway drew their united attention like a gaze-magnet. Not even a mere moment after, the tiny hatch miraculously blew open, showering the people in letters and envelopes.
Despite that, however, no one except the newly-arrived wanderers seemed to notice. Not a single bat of an eyelash from the passersby, as though it was intended merely for you, and no one else.
Whatever will you do, oh-great travellers?
Noivian
domisunique
Centurion_
Daunting_Doggo
Rhysie
Chungchangching
Communist
TrueBananaz
doggodaily
Best Trekkie.
DailyRoLord
Sebluc
darkred
FactionGuerrilla
marc122
Rysesaka
Zamasu
Corrosion
Drakerus
jigglesworth
Le Fuzzy Maraca
YellowTemperence
ManyFaces
BarrenThin2
uwupolice
DapperDogman
archur
official clown business
QizPizza
D DarkKnight375
Caffeine Freak
DapperDogman
The Banished One
Seeing Felnor approach, the robot did little to stop him, but after seeing him collide so carelessly with someone his sensors indicated could be in mortal danger of a possible cardiac issue, he took action upon seeing the woman knocked down. A hand moved to a small handle on his chest, and a rumble of intense flame could be heard within him as his sensors scan the newcomer and his stance "Possible hostile detected" he states, informing the other members of the group that the polite robotic cook had enough in the way of combat wariness to fend for himself.Despite his musings on where he might be, some sort of scum craftworld, like Lugganath? He always knew that his species was superior to others, but the strange constructions and variation of material that made up the structure he was in made him doubt that by the slightest. Crude mon'keigh technology blended with that of wonders seen before The Fall. He stepped away from his perch, struggling to understand his current place in the physical plane, as he was sure that he was in the physical plane.
He stumbled onward in a daze, simply trying to mentally deconstruct the biology of the blue creature directly ahead of him, it's light purple form flickering as he approached it. The creature turned to him, it's neck jittering as it twitched to face him, it's entire segmented body fully swerving to meet him. Felnor did not like whatever this thing was, and as it approached him, he began to slowly back away until it launched himself at him, to which he launched himself into a front flip, the cry of the creature accentuating his landing.
"New, new, new, Hologame! Slash demons and save the princess in Hackblade!" The strange flickering creature was met with a faceless warrior who easily cut down the demon.
The harlequin cocked his head, and approached the warrior, who held his blade up into the air, over the vanquished beast. Felnor bent over to meet it face to face, waving his hand in front of the warrior before a massive symbol popped in front of his face. A few more symbols in what he could assume as mon'keigh low gothic popped into existence over the unflinching mask of the harlequin, who attempted to pluck them out of the air, his fingers failing to find purchase on the ephemeral letters.
Peeved at his interaction with the little shouting spirits, he straightened himself, and walked inwards to the city. It was when he saw another one of those strangely colored creatures surrounded by a group of (presumably) mon'keigh. He thought nothing of it, knowing it was bound to ignore him and his questions, and he walked right through the strange purple warp projection into the city.
Except, he didn't, somehow. This was an actual, living, breathing, being. He recoiled from having so blindly walked into somebody else, having done a backflip to save himself from touching the ground.
He brushed himself off, and wiped his hands off on his cloak. He stood completely still for a moment, processing exactly what had just happened. Were the rules different here? Who was real, and who wasn't? Determined to find out, but skeptical on the potential repercussions of his actions, he strayed backwards from the group of misfits.
"Fel arfer, byddwn yn gwrthod cynnig ymddiheuriad i hil israddol, ond nid yw eich rhifau a'ch diffyg arfau yn fy ngalluogi i edrych mor ddidrafferth arnoch chi mor hawdd."
He stepped backwards again, and bowed once, before speaking another line.
" 'Fy ymddiheuriadau.' " He simply added, his head still bowed before looking up to meet the eyes of the strange, strange 'mon'keigh'. He would think that AI would be eradicated after mankind's earliest mishap with the men of iron, and that only Adeptas Sororitas would have white hair, but he couldn't say anything about these strange humans, and their strange hooded matters.
"Primates Imbecile a'u iaith wrenching gwddf." He mumbled to himself, ready to receive a typical verbal barrage of angered speech from the 'human' he had bumped into, only standing there out of common courtesy.
"Biology of hostile entity identified as non-human. Priority of non-human life: negligible. Customer defense subroutines permitted for use if further hostility continues" Felnor would be met with the steely gaze of the now combat poised machine, ready to open the oven built into his chest and roast him alive should he make any further acts of perceived aggression.
What a strange sight to behold.
The aura of awe gagging the otherworldly passengers morphed into a strange, tame curiosity. Around the corner of an alleyway, beside the station's gate bookworms Maxwell and Pat perpetuated their... Questionable conversation, the stench of the late, unnamed homeless man's blood leaking from the Chaos Sorcerer's scrapped paper. Loners Jak and Delsin were seemingly warming up to each other almost instantly, ready to set off in search of answers (and spray paint). And, misfits CHEF, Widowmaker, Geralt, and Mercer already seemed to be forming quite a deadly pact, despite the lack of their full arsenals.
The many who had found themselves lost in an expansive world full of wonders and dangers alike would not remain clueless for much longer, as a loud clanking and rattling from one, single, sky-blue mailbox beside the entrance stairway of the railway drew their united attention like a gaze-magnet. Not even a mere moment after, the tiny hatch miraculously blew open, showering the people in letters and envelopes.
Despite that, however, no one except the newly-arrived wanderers seemed to notice. Not a single bat of an eyelash from the passersby, as though it was intended merely for you, and no one else.
Whatever will you do, oh-great travellers?
D DarkKnight375
Perhaps it was fate, that at that moment the sky seemed to be filled with letters that blew into sight, causing the robot's steely gaze to soften slightly, the mechanical irises of his sensors widening once more as he moves his hand away from the release hatch on his chest, the rumble of several-hundred degree flames settling down as he lowers his gaze to the floor, examining one of the letters "How peculiar" he muses as his arm extends to the floor, picking it up carefully and turning it in his hand slowly "The mailbox appears to be a distribution machine, and not as it appeared, a receptical for outgoing mail" he couldn't help but recall he had been on a vessel carrying packages to distant planets to deliver them. In a way, CHEF had been an integral part of the mail system before the ship crashed.
He simply looks at the letter for a long moment, before returning his gaze to Felnor, and then the others "Given our shared experience, and the sudden appearance of such a precise number of letters, I must conclude that this is a form of greeting" he turns his head slowly, looking around for a moment "But who is greeting us?"
Corrosion
uwupolice
BarrenThin2
archur
Zamasu
The Ningen-Slaying Supreme Kai
Baiken
The sky has dropped a ton of letters which annoys the hundred-year-old one-armed one-eyed female samurai. "What the hell are these? Letters?" She asked before picking one of them up and inspect them. "Someone is behind this, and I'll slice his head off when he appears." She added with a very grim tone. She is one of those people that someone should not mess around with, and she ain't kiddinf about the slicing head off statement. She is ready to kill no matter what.
(Open for interaction.)
The sky has dropped a ton of letters which annoys the hundred-year-old one-armed one-eyed female samurai. "What the hell are these? Letters?" She asked before picking one of them up and inspect them. "Someone is behind this, and I'll slice his head off when he appears." She added with a very grim tone. She is one of those people that someone should not mess around with, and she ain't kiddinf about the slicing head off statement. She is ready to kill no matter what.
(Open for interaction.)
jigglesworth
Some words you just read.
"Okay, I'm going." Corvo replied, lowering his arms finally.
He complied with the girl's wishes and left her alone, walking away from her. The child's decision did confused him, though, considering she is just that: a child. Why one would want to be on their own escaped him, or perhaps she has a guardian she is waiting for. Either way, all that is done now, as there is nothing more he can do.
He was about to venture further into the city, looking for work, as without money there is no way he'd survive here, survival being the main goal. However, as he walked, an oddly shaped box began rattling furiously. Only some actually noticed this, or perhaps only those few cared. When it suddenly erupted, throwing up letters everywhere, Corvo quickly shielded his face, in fear of one hitting his eye.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed, his arms in front of his head.
They inevitably settled on the ground, but he was still cautious of them. What could be harmful about a letter, though? It's not like you could stuff a bomb in there, or could you? Considering this is probably the future, they must have learned how to miniaturize bombs, or found another design for them that's flatter. But then again, the lack of the crowd's reaction tells Corvo this is a normal occurrence. It probably isn't a bomb. Corvo picks up an envelope from the ground, and examines the outside a bit.
"I wonder what's inside this." He takes the flap and rips it open, before taking out the contents within.
marc122
Haz.
He complied with the girl's wishes and left her alone, walking away from her. The child's decision did confused him, though, considering she is just that: a child. Why one would want to be on their own escaped him, or perhaps she has a guardian she is waiting for. Either way, all that is done now, as there is nothing more he can do.
He was about to venture further into the city, looking for work, as without money there is no way he'd survive here, survival being the main goal. However, as he walked, an oddly shaped box began rattling furiously. Only some actually noticed this, or perhaps only those few cared. When it suddenly erupted, throwing up letters everywhere, Corvo quickly shielded his face, in fear of one hitting his eye.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed, his arms in front of his head.
They inevitably settled on the ground, but he was still cautious of them. What could be harmful about a letter, though? It's not like you could stuff a bomb in there, or could you? Considering this is probably the future, they must have learned how to miniaturize bombs, or found another design for them that's flatter. But then again, the lack of the crowd's reaction tells Corvo this is a normal occurrence. It probably isn't a bomb. Corvo picks up an envelope from the ground, and examines the outside a bit.
"I wonder what's inside this." He takes the flap and rips it open, before taking out the contents within.
marc122
Haz.