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Found 10 results

  1. The accommodations were mostly clean and practical, as Hana might have expected of her military companion. It was in a nondescript district of Palgard, close enough to the center, but far enough to be free of distractions. The working desk, however, was strewn with papers. “These are pages I’ve printed from our databases,” Delistair said. “Information about the Abysswalkers, and more interestingly, about the tower.” He pulled up a thin stack with pictures and data that would not be too difficult to obtain - information such as general dimensions, specifications, and other sorts of data required by the government. Del flipped to the next page, with a list of names and companies. “The tower is supposed to be owned by a private enterprise, a company that supplies parts for offensive and defensive systems. We are also among its clientele.” “Naturally, we should have information about those we work with, right? Especially its leader? But surprisingly, there is very little information about its Direktor. No photos, no descriptions, nothing. That seems strange to me.” Without waiting for a reply to his rhetorical question, he reached for another piece of paper. “And this,” he took a breath, then passed it to Hana. “It was an encrypted message, but I managed to decipher it. It’s an invoice for government-controlled materials. The address - it’s sent from the tower. They’re selling illegal materials. The place it’s addressed to..” He looked at Hana, his expression unreadable. “That’s the village I was raised in. It doesn’t exist anymore.” @spacegy4
  2. Heroes and Villains Episode 1 A City Abandoned [Jake "Skylord" Evans begins to talk] For years the city of Palgard has been plagued by anarchy. What is left of its government and city officials are corrupt, their every move determined by the wills and desires of the factions which rule the city. During the day it is almost as if Palgard is a normal city. Men and women go to work. Children go to school. People buy and sell, talk and laugh, love and hate. When the sun is out those behind the scenes stay right where they are- in the darkness of Palgard. Generally the string pullers are the wealthy and the powerful, oligarchs who watch the ongoings of Palgard with ominous gazes. The law enforcement departments are defunct, arresting the bare minimum to maintain some appearance of functionality. Right and true officers are hard to find; usually fired before they can climb so much as a single rank for not "falling in line." If a politician is not someone behind the scenes, they are on that person's payroll. Like a mafia, crime organizations aren't separate from the city government. In fact, the city government is all but controlled by the crime organizations. Some areas are better than others as the ruler of the territory is more kind. Two years ago, however, the Terrenus government built Martial Town. A sort of haven and alternative city for those in Palgard, a way to escape the horror that rules them and their loved ones. Many fled Palgard for the seeming Oasis, yet, many stayed. Palgard is their homes and they refused to leave. Some even convinced themselves that Palgard wasn't all that bad. Or that Martial Town wouldn't be all that better. As Martial Town grew, Palgard became more and more chaotic. Especially when the three leading factions ceased their activity. The Terrenus Peacekeeper Renata Saratxaga and her military soldiers left Palgard soon after Martial Town started to grow. The Bandit King Sanu Toak and Captain of Industry Hana Alenko have both vanished, disappeared into whatever dark place they crawled to. Perhaps they even left Palgard. With the sudden vacuum of power swallowing and drowning Palgard, many factions reared their heads in attempt to grab control of the failing city. And that's when things in Palgard took an odd turn. Heroes and Villains started to appear. And not in terms of "good person" and "bad person." At first these people were dubbed "Masks" regardless of whether they were a hero or villain. The term slowly separated into Heroes and Villains, some more popular or successful than others, though the general slang for Heroes and Villains is still Masks. Some may thrive in Palgard's dysfunction. Some may strive to fix it. Others just fighting to survive and save their loved ones. Others for revenge. This is the story of those Heroes and Villains. [Jake "Skylord" Evans stops to talking] [Episode begins early in the afternoon February 5th] Cast: @Ataraxy as Jake "Skylord" Evans | Hero & Naomi "Wraith" Collins | Anti-Hero @danzilla3 as Apex | Other @Tyler as Cory "Poltergeist" Karsk | Villain @SteamWarden as Chloe "Night Dragon" Benoit | Anti-Hero @Die Shize as Kolvern "Red Hands" Rikalsky | Villain @vielle as Diana "Beast" D'Angelo | Anti-Hero @Thotification as The Godmother | Other @Sanonymous as Steve "???" King | Hero @Unicorgi as Jonathan "Shadeglass" Smith | Hero @Wade as Calvin "Blueblood" Church | Villain @SweetCyanide as Cicero "???" Chardonnay | ???
  3. It had been a while since the teenager had settled in. Her sights were not only set on conquest of the remains of Palgard, but on other things far greater. On her spare time the engineer turned over rumors, manuscripts and other information from various sources. It was mostly technical information and reports on prospective enemy forces and the success or failure of a given operation, but other mysterious goodies were peppered throughout. Most of this allegedly extraneous information was simply passed over, but there was one item that gave a chill to her nerves. There was a log of a ship that came into the industry controlled port, but a physical description of the individual who allegedly departed the craft was missing. Taking up a techno-magical tablet she browsed through the surveillance footage to the given log time. No person was seen departing the ship for the entirety of its visit. Was there an intrusion into the surveillance network or what other trickery could potentially be at play? Sanu knew a few things about sailing craft and potential mysteries they could bring, but so unfortunately he was on an extended vacation. This anomaly would need to be investigated, but another just as important event would occur first. What could that possibly be? A lunch meeting of course! The Direktor had eyes and ears all over the city. The surveillance which not limited to the industrial district found an individual of interest. A particular blue haired mercenary whom she'd briefly met before. Curiosity bade discovering what the individual was up to. Caerula would receive an invitation to meet with the General'ny Direktor in a private upper floor of the Zephyrus tower. Should Cae accept and approach the tower at the appointed time she would be met with an armored and armed escort consisting of firearm equipped soldiers. Soon taken off the path of the regularly traveled lower levels a lift would take her up and up and up. Once they departed the lift the lead soldier would direct Cae to a door which slid open upon approach. Hana could be seen sitting at a table with two settings of food and an empty chair across from her. "Welcome back. Things have changed a bit since we last met."
  4. Something was brewing in bandit controlled territory. The self proclaimed Bandit King had gone silent, with the apparent cause a mystery. Had he simply opted to walk off or had another individual forcefully usurped the throne? The only sure way to find out as dangerous as it would be was to travel there. The stronghold of leader was deep in anarchist dominated territory where the military lacked permanent and precise surveillance, and an act as simple as travelling there held tremendous risk. Opting to take action on limited intelligence the Lieutenant opted to foray into bandit controlled territory after taking a brief shortcut through an industrialist area. Hana carefully traveled while wearing little to no association with the Terrenus military nor was she exceedingly well armed to avoid attracting unneeded attention. Significant progress was made as the teenager would soon be reaching the heart. The farther she traveled it seemed the anarchists and bandits appeared more and more nervous and restless. Was another outside power waging a campaign against them? Approaching a stopping point in an alley the girl leaned against a wall to rest before being interrupted by the sound of nearby footsteps. A duo of unsavory fellows pulled out of the shadows behind to confront the seemingly unarmed teenager. One sported a club crudely fashioned from a destroyed structural bar, and the other a seemingly poorly maintained hand gun. As Hana turned and walked the opposite way she quickly found that a third individual blocked that path. "If you're looking for valuables I'll be sorry to break it to you that I don't have any. All I have is some rations. You want it then go for it." With that she'd toss her pack to the opposite wall while hoping the action created enough diversion to consider how she'd get through this without drawing too much attention to herself.
  5. When TITAN fell, it left a hole in need of filling, not only in Palgard, but in all of Terrenus. Vespera couldn’t be everywhere at once, and Palgard was her home, so it was in Palgard that her new calling presented itself. The hand that loaded the gun and the finger that pulled the trigger, they belonged to her, but not in quite the same sense as her time in TITAN. Then, she was a spy, an assassin, and a thief, on the prowl in her homeland for those that would do it harm. Now, there was no connection to something larger, no central intelligence to guide her. Martin Strauss, Director of TITAN, was gone — so long, you old bastard — and he was the nucleus, the foundation on which the organization was built. No Strauss, no TITAN, no orders; so where did that leave her? “The report, Ves.” Vespera looked up to find a man — John Bishop, Dougton, no rank; nobody held rank anymore — sliding a manilla folder forward across her desk, toward her. He dismissed himself. Like the lack of rank, there was a lack of decorum, with nobody technically subordinate to anyone else. Instead their group was a loose confederation of like minded individuals, former agents, military operatives, gumshoes, and even a few ex-gangers. All working together to help the people of Palgard, providing supplies, protection, and information, whatever was needed, whenever it was needed. A cooperative that she was nominally in charge of. They answered to her, as much as anyone answered to anyone else. A precarious position for her to be in when surrounded by blacker-than-black types that could kill you and dispose of your body with minimal effort. In Palgard, that would be just dumping her out in the street for the unusually large packs of rats. She sat behind a large desk, one of the few they found to be serviceable, in what had been an abandoned office building. It was their base of operations now, controlling the back way into Martial Town — through the tunnels, alleyways, and back roads — against trespassers. Their primary concern today being the large gangs based out of the northern section of the city, much reduced today, partly thanks to the efforts of her people, than when the city first fell. Shuffling through the papers the folder contained, Vespera selected one in particular for close examination; it was a high resolution map of the city, newly printed from the offices of Renata Saratxaga, and, circled in red, an outpost on the edge of anarchist territory. Dark blips along the roads and the fortified buildings suggested people, but Vespera ignored them to focus instead on the defenses. She smoothed a blond lock from over her right eye, tucking it behind an ear. Sub-dermal veins of green and black light spread from the golden artifice, its color at odds with its natural blue neighbor, as the map was submitted to active recall. The next paper Vespera pulled from the stack was a list of names, her people’s names, included for their skill in sabotage and assassination, and their determination to get the job done. “Gedeon, Fenna, Kolos, and Anton,” she said the names out loud to commit them to memory, tapping the finger of her free hand on the desk, the nail clicking, the sensation of touch and sound a mnemonic technique. She could have committed them, like the map, to her active recall, but that was a temporary thing, not a fitting memorial. “Two groups of two, or one group of three with a solo infiltrator?” She pulled up her mental image of the map, double checking egress and fortifications, and recalled the underlying maze of sewer and rail systems beneath the city, factoring in ease of access and exposure, but decided it was getting here nowhere. Both options held certain drawbacks, just as both had benefits. She stood and gathered up the loose files, stuffing them back into their folder before dropping it with a smack onto the desk. “Fenna takes the sewers,” she announced loud enough fro the room to hear, now, with her concentration broken, distinctly aware of the noise her fellow conspirators generated. Several dozen people stopped what they were doing to focus on her. “Get Gedeon, Kolos, and Anton through the passage on Sundown Lane. They’ll sabotage the stockpile. Tell Fenna we don’t need Helmut alive.” No rank, no decorum, but there was a mission. Without it, they had nothing. Vespera thought, maybe the PeaceKeeper had her own way of doing things, and maybe she wouldn’t approve, but they — Juno — had their way. It was the only way they knew. “How’d you do it, Strauss?” Vespera asked to no one in particular. “This bites.” She spun lazily around in her chair, kicking at the floor to complete the turn, a glass of dark wine, the color of blood, in one hand, and a faded photo of herself in the other. The office had cleared out for the night. Which was good, since this was where she slept most days. She brought the photo up and inspected it, remembering how young she was then, and how little time had passed despite how old she now felt. It was little wonder that the Strauss that haunted her memory was such a grouchy old bastard.
  6. THE ABYSSWALKERS: TERRENUS BRANCH HQ - More information will be added in the future -
  7. Thunder rolled overhead as the rain fell around them, so loud that it masked their movement through the city. Spotlights lit the mouth of every alley, narrowly missing them as they shot through one and into another, throwing themselves around a corner to exit behind a squat building with broken windows, its interior silhouetted as a light passed over its front, revealing clothing racks and mannequin displays. “Fuck me, but that was fun, eh, Fenna?” Gedeon grinned, showing teeth filed to points, the expression only falling away when Fenna, herself a stunning combination of looks and confidence, directed a glare full of murderous intent at him. Between the two of them, Kolos would put his money on her. Gedeon might be two times her size, more metal than man these days, with two prosthetic arms, both possessing an array of hidden hardware, but Fenna could melt steel with her mind. Out of the three of them, Fenna scared Kolos the most. One day Gedeon would push his luck too far and Fenna would kill them both to prove a point. “Leave her be, Gedeon. For fuck’s sake, we just lost Anton.” “You don’t know that!” Fenna growled, causing Kolos to bite back his own response. She continued, “He killed Helmut. He could still have escaped. Anton was the best of all of us.” “Helmut killed himself and Anton’s dead as shit — blown to smithereens — along with whatever Helmut wanted to hide.” “Thanks Gedeon,” Kolos said. Gedeon gave him a thumb’s up in response. The sounds of pursuit died off as levitating platforms, armored transports, and men on foot trudged through the city, until they faded away entirely. Everyone released sighs of relief, deflating as the tension left them. “Too damn close.” Gedeon shrugged the water from his face, for what little good it did. He was soaked through; they were all soaked through. Kolos wondered if Gedeon’s prosthetics would rust or not. He received them from a company in Last Chance, not known for their quality, just their low prices. “You calling?” Kolos nodded, turning away from the group to talk into dark slab of metal that represented his lifeline to Juno HQ. He explained the situation, hurrying to ensure nothing of importance was lost, always worried that their pursuers would some back. Not until they reached Juno would they be able to relax. Vigilance, until then. When his connection to Juno was terminated, he put the device away and looked down at the trash strewn streets, where a man lay prone, his arms and legs tied together. He did not move. “What about him?” Kolos asked. “Interrogate here, or home?” “Kill him.” Fenna said. “Take him with us; Ves’ll have our balls if we don’t.” “Kill him,” Fenna emphasized. “Later, Fenna. I don’t like the idea of going the rest of the way with deadweight—” “Like you’re the one carrying him,” said Gedeon “—but Gedeon’s right, and you know it, Fenna. Ves will want to have a word with him herself. The guy’s supposed to be dead.” “He will be soon enough,” Fenna muttered. Gedeon gathered the man back up, throwing him over his shoulder roughly, unburden by the additional weight. Benefits of Orchish ancestry, Kolos figured. Better Gedeon carrying their old lieutenant than Fenna or Kolos himself. Having said what he did out of necessity, he still didn’t trust himself not to open the bastard’s neck. It was better than the traitor deserved. Kolos looked away from the group. The walls of the alley glowed softly with luminescent paints, showing outlines of bulbous letters, obscene drawings, and gang tags. More importantly, under it all, the markers that lead the way to one of Juno’s safe houses. From there, they could get anywhere in the city. “Let’s go.”
  8. @supernal@Mag [MT1:1] Paroxysm vs Fennis Ursai // command [CISHCHAT] // 26548AO 0RAT ::The lower dimensional manifold in the casino is being used for waste disposal. The owner is feeding people into it. Sometimes they’re still alive. // command [CISHCHAT] // 84511KD 0PIL ::Fire is currently ascendant in Palgard. Related? // command [CISHCHAT] // 26548AO 0RAT ::It’s possible, I guess. Sequential feedback resonance indicated pyretic particulates that gel when introduced to water. Sounds like a recipe for fire. // command [CISHCHAT] // 84511KD 0PIL ::Oh. Want to investigate? // command [CISHCHAT] // 26548AO 0RAT ::can’t lol. I’m in a fight rn. Tbh, I think he likes me. He keeps flirting. Hold on. // command [CISHCHAT] // 23583LL 0FCL ::hey guys anyone in great pine barrens rn? lol, let got gnawed off by a teletype
  9. No matter where he treads, the reactions are all the same. A lone being that identifies as human in form approaches several others with a aura seeping through his body. To everyone he encounters or attempts to approach, he is a large red flag this afternoon. No rage emits from each turn down, no emotional spectrum is highlighted, it's simply comfort over opinion. He isn't lost, for he has no home. He isn't starving, for he has no appetite. He is craving the words of someone brave enough...to point him to the nearest bar. "Assassin" A man mutters and scurries away. "Heretic" another says retreating. "Civilian" the authorities called him. There is a simple exchange of words between the masked man and the guards of justice, then after a finger point towards the north, they part ways. An hour of travel and the masked man is at it again, searching for another guide, he asks questions about directions to several landscapes, makes his way there, and continues on. No GPS, just plain old fashioned touring. "This is where out of work masters go?" He says to a random woman passing him by at a monument. The strangers keep themselves complacent. "Isolation" is the nickname his inner demon has given him. All of his hard work has led him to being dismissed from school, out of a job, and now on the road seeking a new course. His latest breakthrough has yet to undergo tests. He is very eager to demonstrate his power...but to what cause? A white wooden bench in the middle of the town. A nice place for him to unclip his "Dark Knight Awakens" book from the back of his belt and start his first chapter this sunny afternoon.
  10. The home of Guin, a young adventurer living in Martial Town slums. A small middle floor studio apartment Guin has managed to repair or otherwise clean the run down apartment into a livable environment. Few in amenities it has a tub, an old mana impulse stove, a ice enchanted fridge and an old twin sized bed. For the occasional company she keeps a small table with three chairs in the center of the room. It is not heated, and while it has electricity it is far from reliable and frequently goes out. Guin enjoys being home, and can often be found winding down after an odd job or adventure. All in all it a simple home on the outskirts of Martial Town, a deeply dangerous area that rarely has visitors. Guin does not own this apartment, and instead rents it from a faceless multinational housing corporation - any defaulting on the rent means she is quickly evicted, for Martial Town has limited tenant protection laws. [OOC - This is a hub thread for my character Guin where I will roleplay her in between quests/jobs/adventures, it is open to visitors - if you'd like to interact with Guin at her home throw a knock on her door!]
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