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  Cinders
Posted by: Okor - 10-09-2019, 04:10 AM - Forum: The Tangled Green - No Replies

The shimmering veil between worlds was rent asunder once more, and from the iridescent wound upon the world, the harbinger stepped forth. Hot and humid winds wafted over him, carrying with them the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birdsong. Light rain drizzled down from the verdant canopies, warm water utterly failing to cleanse his corrupted warplate, falling to the fertile earth beneath his feet utterly befouled, black and writhing sludge taking its place.

Ragged, rasping breaths took life from this atmosphere, and in return, a deadly fog seeped from the corrosion-spawned holes riddling the pestilent paladin’s helmet. Deadened legs that knew precious little rest but the temporary graves that the Omniverse had permitted him carried his diseased bulk forward, the whirring hiss of antiquated pistons and the resounding clamour of his footfalls drowning out the errant roars of thunder far above. Some self-professed lord of the tempests sought to defend their divine territory, flashes of lightning briefly igniting treetops far overhead before the downpour silenced the burgeoning flames.

But the tainted titan carried His God with him- in his veins, in his dessicated flesh, marked upon his twinned hearts, intertwined with his very soul, and as a skyborne spear of power carved its way down from on high, the Tangled Green learnt its first lesson.

It had already lost.

The wrath of the heavens coursed through his ironclad frame, redundant organs cooking where they lay within him, marrow vaporizing and muscle charring and becoming black as sin. His left arm turns to shrapnel, the viscera of untold parasites dwelling within turning into a thick paste that splatters across his surroundings, the accompanying thunderclap’s shockwave leveling the area around him. Within the newly-formed clearing, ebon smoke billowing forth from the many cracks in his ceramite plating, the abomination moved, seemingly unhampered by the divine intervention.

A hand clad by a gauntlet that had strangled warriors across a thousand stars and ten thousand years reached to his side, drawing forth the familiar bulk of his boltgun. Mass-reactive shells bathed within the entropic light of dying stars were carried forth towards the ancient weapon’s action, ferried by parasitic tendrils emerging from the severed stump of his arm, delicately carrying their host’s precious cargo to its destination.

The thunderstruck champion of corruption gurgled out a chortling laugh, staggering forward as he readied his ancient weapon. There was yet much work to be done upon this blighted earth, and he’d be even further Damned if he simply left this cursed realm to continue.

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  Connie Hound
Posted by: The Rogue - 10-05-2019, 04:16 PM - Forum: Roster - Replies (1)

Name: Connie Hound
Spent OM: 4800
Consumed OM: 300
Proficiencies (2000): Ranged Proficiency (1000) Physical Strength (1000)
Powers (1900/8000): Super jump (Basic, 300), Master Acrobat(400), Stealth(1200)
Moves (600): Lycöan(600)
Super Moves (0):
Transformations (0):
Assists (0):
Items: Communicator (200), Mobile Dataverse device (100)
Artefacts:
Bases:
Unlocks (0):
Base stats:
ATK: 3
DEF: 2
SPD: 3
TEC: 2

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  New Age Book Club: Fall - October 2019
Posted by: Dust - 10-01-2019, 10:30 PM - Forum: Omniverse Discussion - No Replies

Welcome to the Book Club here on the Omniverse!!

It's a new staff, new year, new situations. So why not New Book Club? After some trial and error, I've tossed out yet another attempt. I'm going rogue!!
Please don't tell Daniel...


RULES!!

In addition to the usual OoC Rules of Conduct, we encourage helpful, well-considered, constructive feedback with both positive and negative comments. Please try to remember that not everyone is confident about their writing, and overly negative feedback is highly discouraged. What we are looking for are patient people who can look at a piece objectively but with a delicate and tactful touch to their criticism. Anyone who is found excessively ruthless in their commentary will find themselves unable to participate.

If we have picked a piece that you participated in as well, you are allowed and encouraged to join in on the activities as long as there are more members involved than just yourself. This is because self-criticism does not count toward the 150 minimum words as covered by the guidelines(See below).

Review Writing Guidelines

Reviews must be a minimum of 150 words and should include your opinion on whether the participating member(s) deserve a bonus or not, and if yes, then 'Good', 'Great', or 'Exemplary', according to the Bonus Rewards Guidelines. Please don't consider this an arbitrary number to fill; this just filters out those reviews that were clearly made with no effort.

Topics may include writing from multiple members. Please try to give everyone included a decent review and an individual grade.

Try to go into detail about what you liked and didn't like about an RP. Try to keep it objective and positive: it's absolutely not okay to just tear down someone else's work without saying anything good about it. The more detail the better, and the more effort you put into your reviews the more likely we are to choose one of your topics to review, as thanks for your help to other members.

Please do not skim. If we suspect people are skimming topics, we may have to be more stringent on requirements, which makes it harder for staff to enforce, and more difficult for you to write your review. If we suspect particular members are skimming, we may bar them from future participation in the book club. This is free OM, so it's in everyone's best interest to keep it that way.

As far as grading goes, please be non-partisan. If you think your friend's topic truly merits Exemplary, awesome. But if we notice people constantly doing this and we consistently disagree with the gradings, we'll weigh your opinion far less than those who tend to give accurate gradings consistent with the Bonus Rewards Guidelines.


Book Club Material

How we will be choosing the new submissions will vary on activity among the current members. Know that we are searching the entire Omniverse, new and old work alike, for a variety of stories. Our agents are watching the accolades, recent stories, and reaching into the achieves for possible threads.

We are not just looking for the best stories that the site can provide us with, as writers we should hone our ability to give feedback in a professional and personal way. By doing so we can offer our voices and experience to those around us, and give an example of what kind of criticism we'd like in return for a later date.

If anyone has any stories they'd like to offer for future book clubs, please PM Dust or Moon Knight with these suggestions.


REWARDS

By participating you will earn Bonus OM, naturally.


200 or 300 OM will be rewarded for the Short Story of the month, depending on the size of the thread. Threads that belong to this category can be anywhere from 3,000 words to 10,000 words or less.

350 or 450 OM will be rewarded for the Novella of the month, depending on the size of the thread. Threads that belong to this category can be anywhere between 10,000 words to 30,000 words.

500 OM will be rewarded for the Seasonal story. This reward can only be claimed one of the three months the story will be featured. This category can be 40,000 plus words with no upper cap.

As a completely voluntary activity, feel free to review one, two, or all of the three categories. We do ask that you specify which one you are participating and make it clear which one you are criticizing at any time. Generally with some sort of coding or labels. Do not feel as if you need to do all three in one go, post twice/thrice if you wish to do all three this month.

The bonuses will stack accordingly, but we will only honor one Seasonal bonus per three months. (They will follow the seasons: Summer, Winter, Fall, Spring.)


Entries

Short Story
We found a shared story of horrors for your enjoyment, the story consists of known good writers. Homesick Nightmares should hit the mood real nice.

Novella
Found in the depth of Pale Moors a Vision thread about stars and scars. Twinkle in Sweet Repose should be an... Interesting read.

Seasonal!
As a reminder, this thread will be available through all of Fall. MK Suggested this one: Honeymoon In Hell.

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  Rose...poor Rose
Posted by: Daniel_Tempest - 10-01-2019, 09:12 AM - Forum: The Astral Realm - No Replies

I stood by the table waiting for my date. Then she walked through the door and my breathing stopped for a second or two. Rose Williams in all her beauty walked in. There were some things that drew her apart from others. Her emerald green reptile like eyes. scales that peeked from her sleeveless purple dress. I pulled her chair out for her and she giggled a bit. "A gentleman now are we?"

"I try love." I respond to her as I sit down as well. This seemed to be a flash back of my first date with Rose when we officially started getting serious. We chatted, flirted, and had a wonderful time. We ordered expensive food, steaks even used a fake ID to get some wine (It was not good to us so we ordered root beer instead.)  I pay the bill and take my girlfriend's hand as we walk back to the truck i owned. We drove back to Haven with little traffic. I open the door for Rose, her curly ginger hair hid the little horns she was developing. I tease her with a little horn tug and she giggles. I open the door for her and she enters. I start to follow but I hand stops me. I turn and see Onmi's grinning face. He wags his other finger like I was a naughty child. I try too shake him off to follow Rose but I cannot shake off the god of the omniverse. 
"Rose! Rose?! ROSE?!" I scream as she turns and stands in the doorway, her face somber. I slip out of the dream realm back into the harsh reality of the Omniverse.

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  Vote For Us! (October)
Posted by: Taloc - 09-30-2019, 11:16 PM - Forum: The Whateververse, Man - Replies (146)

You like having more people to play with, right? That was a rhetorical question, because having more people to write with is awesome. Do you also like OM? If the answer is 'yes', which OBVIOUSLY it is, then please vote for us on the following sites!

RPGfix (every 12 hours. If you register, your votes count as x2. Worth the couple of minutes to make an account if you're going to be voting every day)
Top RP Sites (Daily)
Top Site List Planet (Daily.)

Vote on all sites, then post here with "Vote 1". When you vote on all sites again, post "Vote 2". You are allowed to vote again 12 hours after your previous vote, and we're okay if that only affects RPGfix. However, you should be trying to vote on all sites, as the reset times vary.

Tl;dr: Vote for all the sites, put "1". Next day, do the same and put "2". If you're really hardcore, you can vote every 12 hours, but it's not necessary.

If we find out your votes aren't being counted (and yes, we take the times you voted into account) we will give you the benefit of the doubt the first time as a mistake. However, if it happens again, or if we think you're not bothering or simply haven't read this, we will remove your voting privileges and you will no longer be eligible for this monthly bonus.

At the end of the month, if you posted ...

5-10 times: You get 100 OM.
11-16 times: You get 200 OM.
17-22 times: You get 300 OM.
23-28 times: You get 400 OM.
29+ times: 500 OM, and a fistbump from me for being so damn diligent.

If you have an alternate character and wish to claim your reward on that account as opposed to your main one, please let us know in the topic before the month ends. If you don't, we'll assume you want the OM on the account you posted with.

Thanks for voting everyone!

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  Indivisible
Posted by: Okor - 09-30-2019, 08:02 PM - Forum: The Nexus - No Replies

Time passes strangely, in this realm. The unending crawl of aeons across reality, grinding every seemingly immutable facet of life down to dust, was absent. Whorling eddies of power manifested within the Omnillium-forged bodies of Primes dictated the pace, tempests of change raising and razing as they pleased, an ever-fluctuating balance of power dictating the truth within this absurd realm.

Mutated maggots writhed within the Astartes’ flesh, wriggling through the ever-regenerating membranes of his lungs as he breathed deeply, a breath that corroded iron rattling around his verdigris-coated helmet. His lone eye remained closed, crimson oculus weeping pus as the necrotic behemoth pondered.

There were words spoken, within the realm of dreams. There were battles fought, wills pitted against each other as each mind struggled to assert the dominance of their truth against the other.

Burning this place to the ground wouldn’t make any of this better.

The words echoed within his yellowed skull, the singular horn rising tall, piercing his helmet and ascending towards the empty, uncaring heavens of this cruel mockery of existence.

But it would make it gone.

Oblivion. Omnicide. The complete and utter annihilation of all that this wretched realm stood for, to lay low its false god, and lay waste to every shred of hope that it had. To bring a blessed End, so that something new might enter its place.

A deep, rattling breath echoed through his lungs, shaking loose the rust that had built up over his body, the ever-living, ever-dying morass within his skull afire as thought after thought clicked into place, neurons springing into action as the gangrenous giant began to awaken.

Armageddon was not a gentle thing.

Fingers curled into talons laden with a dozen plagues twitched for the first time in aeons, flexing and twisting as they carved through the air, hungrily clawing at it as if he could gain raw and bloody sustenance from the aether itself.

And he could.

Strands of power spawned from the whims of a mad demiurge wrapped around his talons, shining rainbow patterns tarnishing and disintegrating into ebon dust as they made contact with his caustic will. Rotting hearts riddled with worms beat beneath his fused breastbone, spurring toxin-laden blood turned a milky white by an untold legion of pathogens lurking within his system to flow through dilapidated veins.

An ancient reactor core, containment long since breached hummed to life, radiation leaking over the tumour-ridden, rotting body contained within the armor it powered, twisting the genes of the parasites feasting within. Servos ground into motion, pistons hissed with effort once more as slowly but surely, the titanic figure rose, the motion erecting a monument to decay as he stood, a heaving mass of starvation and suffering, the silent gnashing of the fangs that lurked just beneath the thin veneer of parchment-like skin a testament to the eternal hungers that drove every twisted step.

His eye opened, baleful and virulent, every maddened twitch of its vermillion sclera casting his blighted gaze over the rolling expanses of the Nexus, utterly devoid of life, entirely divorced from the cycle of Decay and Rebirth. A low growl burbled up from his tormented throat as he began to walk forward, whirling tempests of Omnillium coalescing in his claws as the familiar bulk of his instruments of death bound themselves to his wretched essence once more. He had delayed, delayed, delayed- put off his sacred, necessary duty out of a fondness for those who inhabited this cursed, wrong existence.

He had forgotten the lesson he had learnt upon a dozen altars, slitting the throats of the priests of The False Emperor, and sending them on their way to the Garden of the Grandfather. To hesitate simply prolongs the agonizing death that they have already been destined for by the sheer fact of their existence.

He looked towards the gate that loomed before him, vines intertwining themselves around a solid arch of living wood, the scintillating sheen stretched taut over its construction beckoning him in, an iridescent mirror that showed the truth of what he was in all its glory.

His Father’s Son.

Beneath his rot-drenched warplate, Okor smiled as he stepped forward into the Tangled Greens.

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  Reactivate me
Posted by: Okor - 09-30-2019, 03:51 PM - Forum: Help Desk - Replies (1)

The time has come to kick ass and chew bubblegum, and I don't like bubblegum.

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  Them Old Droid Blues
Posted by: HK-47 - 09-24-2019, 07:57 PM - Forum: The Endless Dunes - No Replies

If it isn’t the overbearing scorching heat that the sun constantly beams onto you, it’s the gritty, coarse sand that will. How long had it been? Hours? Yeah, Exactly hours since he’d lost him. David looked to be capable of taking care of himself, especially for being a meatbag though the guy also seemed to be in the same ship as HK. One-hundred percent was clueless as to what was going on and where were they. Now that he had up and disappeared, it was beginning to be increasingly more difficult as to what he was supposed to do. So like any top of the line droid, as he was, took a decision into his own metal hands and that decision, (some random non-existent person might ask.) Well, he simply chose to walk. Walk until he made it somewhere important, somewhere organic and made life frolic and do what… any day to day life thing would do. He sure did make it to something important but to common set knowledge, a massive energy dispensing gate did not hold life. So he moved on, waking through the large gate and went on to where he was now. A baron plane filled with sand, sand, and more sand.   

The desert even to a droid’s stance is still a cruel mistress of ever-changing variables. Variables that could kill, maim, or incapacitate any meatbag or droid alike. To his luck, the desert decided that in his short time in the environment that it was time to kill the one and only HK-47. Stumbling through the midst of a sandstorm, the droid’s metallic feet left impressions on the sandhill he fought to march over. Be it a sandstorm or Mandalorian, HK was determined to make it out and hopefully find either David or a new master. Only then would the droid’s programming be utilized to its best, though his programming was up to standard, several of his many other core functions were either missing or broken and not only that but he couldn’t access his memory core. To be blunt, he couldn’t recall any memory, except for only two things, he specifically remembered was the fact that he was struck by a red lightsaber right before entering the Omniverse, and a single battle that he and his former master fought in. 

As if on queue, reaching the top of the hill, the storm picked up. Its winds howled and screamed into his audio receptors, the force of its push becoming stronger than ever. Sand and grit scratched and scraped across the surface of his metal body. Some of the assaulting sand even made between his joints which made it harder to move and in more drastic cases forcing his durasteel appendages to jam stuck. Taking several more strides over the top of the hill,  the desert sand underneath him crumbled and gave way. The droid slid downwards before for a split second going airborne, crashing his head into an unseen rock.

-

“Katlyn this weather is getting worse, in a minute we won’t be able to see anything up to our noses!” Nate shouted as he fidgeted with his goggles making sure they were tight enough to keep the howling sand out.

“Go back if you want, you know if we don’t return with something valuable Kane’s men will kill us all,” Katlyn replied making sure to be loud enough to not be drowned out by the sandstorm. Both of them from head to toe was covered in loose cloth that draped over their torso and wrapped around their heads.

“Well you know I’m not leaving you out here, you could get lost or stumble into a pack of angry Ant-lions and you know what both spell dea-”

“Shhh, I think I see something.” Katlyn cut Nate’s words off, with a quick motion she turned back and waved her left hand signaling for the young man to stop. 

“What is it? What do you see?” Nate asked tilting his head. 

“I don’t know… I’m going to check it out.” She replied before darting away from Nate, disappearing into the clouds of sand. 

“Wait KATLYN!” He shouted rushing in after her.

With a quick jog, the young man almost stumbled over Katlyn and her discovery in an attempt to skid to a halt. Kneeling over a rock Katlyn played with a metal hand of what looked like an old rusted droid. Clearly, even before the sand, the droid had seen better days, blaster marks were visibly noticeable on its shoulders and torso. Its reddish-orange paint was also chipping in most places. 

“What do you think happened to him?” Nate asked, kneeling down on the other side of the droid. 

“Well, from the looks of it, he must have slipped on the sandhill above us and took a nasty fall into the rock he’s laying on. Come on, help me pick him up, that old rat Krilk will know what to do with him.” Katlyn said as both began lifting the droid out of the sand. 

-

Knocking, who in the blazes would be knocking at this late hour. With a forceful yank of his clawed right hand, Krilk began to shout but stopped himself as his eyes realized who it was. Nate and Katlyn were late, really late to be exact, he had already assumed that they either ditched the village and ran away or had gotten lost in the sandstorm. However, to his surprise there they were now standing in his doorway, in both hands carrying what looked to be a… droid.

“You know I can’t pay you for a droid and I doubt Kane or his men have any use for an old rust bucket.” The old Skaven said his beady red eyes blinked once at the droid, with his clawed left hand he scratched his chin. 

“I know that but I figured it would be better than coming back empty-handed, besides I think a droid could be of some use to us for next season,” Katlyn replied, both her and Nate lugged the droid in Krilk’s house. 

“Perhaps but-” 

“Can you fix him or not?” Katlyn asked interrupting the old rat. 

“Yes, yes I can. Set him on the dining room table and then fitch my hydrospanner from the workshop.” Krilk answered, holding both his hands up then pointing with his left hand towards the dining room.    

The young duo quickly shuffled into the dining room dropping the droid onto the table.

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  point of perspective
Posted by: Daniel_Tempest - 09-24-2019, 10:02 AM - Forum: Omniverse Discussion - Replies (2)

I'm switching my rp to first person. This is simply because I'm more comfortable writing that way. Just wanted to note the sudden change

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  Faith isn't easy
Posted by: Larissa Semenov - 09-23-2019, 05:12 AM - Forum: Coruscant - Replies (8)

On the other side of the gate, Larisa was helplessly pulled about by the constant current of a city several sizes too big for her comfort zone. Odell's brochure, while admittedly informative on the workings of the culture, failed to provide the directions she needed. The citizens, in the same manner, were equally as feckless. Tripping as someone stepped on her heel, Larisa grasped at the nearest solid object - a fence for a park she hadn't even realised she was passing. The pedestrian rapids surged on, carrying her with them. Larisa kept a close eye on That fence, waiting for an opening she could slip through - both figuratively and literally.

The gate to the park was minimalistic and modern, guarding a stretch of almost artificial green peppered with flower beds and well-pruned trees. It was an idealistic perfection with a rather strangely small population of civilians, but even here the white masked soldiers stood at every corner. One slow step after another Larisa slunk into the park feeling like some sort of criminal. She mentally chided herself for being ridiculous, but under such constant surveillance when she'd spent years in isolation was beyond unnerving. It was terrifying.

The fox-woman tucked herself in as small as possible at the roots of what appeared to be the oldest and tallest tree in the park. Not that any of the trees were particularly old or tall. With her forehead resting gently on her knees, Larisa gave in to the stress and anxiety of having been so suddenly relocated, and then abandoned by the one person offering help. Tears slid down her pale nose, unnaturally cold and lifeless. A side effect, she supposed. After all, how was she to know the jump hadn't rearranged her anatomy. A quick hand to her chest reassured her that at the very least, she did still have a heartbeat.

Larisa's internal clock failed to count the time she passed beneath that tree. Slow tears continued to fall from the bridge of her nose, dislodged as she sniffled. A gentle hand on her shoulder gave her a start, freezing solid in terror.

"Hey there. You must be new."

She glanced up to see a woman in another of those white soldier uniforms, but this one had a different badge on it. Staring intently, Larisa struggled to find her voice, although when she did it sounded much more confrontational than she had intended. "Who are you?"

The officer laughed, as though the answer should have been obvious. "I think the real question is 'who are you'. You look lost. In a lot of ways, Sugar. Maybe I can help?"

Something about the stranger gave Larisa a deep seated feeling that she was missing something, something that Odell still had, but others didn't. Whatever the cause, she was hesitant to accept aid agian. Not after the first abandoned her to the dizzying wrath of a busy city.

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