[IC] Punk Town (Multiverse Hub)

[craptonofgames]

Arenas available for combat, otherwise, non-combative area

Home of towering structures, where most everything is dilapidated and everything is powered by steam. Steam and soot get pumped into the sky, leaving ugly blemishes across the nearby forest. Punk Town is the home to beggars, aristocrats, and every social standing in-between.

Punk Town is home to a bustling tavern, city hall, multiple indoor arenas, and the land's best engineers. It lies on the equator of the patchwork planet, making the year-round weather blistering hot in the summer and relatively warm in the winter. Virtually any good that one would wish to possess can be found within the confines of the elaborate brass wall that surrounds the city. Gossip is traded like currency and businesses can be started with no hassle, but the weak of will beware, competition within the city is fierce.

[LeeRoy]

(Figured I should post first.)
Theme Music!

With the sound of saliva squelching backwards against his cheeks, the Grey Nasty speaks. "So, now I'm here. Now where's the people that I can kill for pleasure and to occupy my time. Anybody here!? He-llooooo!!"

Echoing from within a metal dome comes the voice of what seems to be a cranky old man with no lips, while not dissimilar, it's very far off from the truth. There stands a man clad in iron garb with a gait like that of a giant, he overlooks the walled domain with a deadpan appearance to his eyes. For some-odd reason he divined that he should stand atop a building and try to find opponents, perhaps forgetting that he is primarily a close range fighter he thought he could get a birds eye view of the battlefield. This, however, is totally useless to him. The concentration of buildings and people makes him spotting anybody who could be viewed as a combatant nigh-impossible.

"Well isn't this bloody useless? I'm standing up here lookin' at who knows what people, and I realize that I don't know what anybody would look like if they wanted to fight me. I guess strong? That'd make a lick of sense, but come on! These are people from different worlds here, how am I supposed to know what's strong and what's not?" Oh the ranting, yes, this armor clad individual rants on the rooftops. I don't know whether to say that it's cliche that he shouts his complaints to the heavens from the tile roofing, or that it's unique that one so rotten has complaints about slight inconveniences.

Though, he must admit, the concentration of people has been getting lower recently. Perhaps there have been a few incidents lately, with the stronger individuals who have no class and reasoning behind their killing. 'Come on you edgy idiots!' he thinks to himself, 'You only kill those who stand against you, those who don't get subjugated!' That notion had driven him to conquer his homeworld, though heavy resistance met him in the beginning, he had total control by the end.

"Oh for Pete's sake! Where are you people!?"

[Schradinger]

As if summoned by the outcry, a second being coalesced seemingly out of thin air no more than a dozen meters away. The form was humanoid, but in the split second after its appearance no more than that could be discerned, as it was wreathed in wisps of blackened mist. Then a light breeze caught the mist and the figure of a man was revealed. A tall, slender man garbed in dark leather armor, with all but his eyes obscured by the clothing he wore. In his right hand he held a sword, still wet from the blood of a recent foe, and in his left he held a large, horned head. An item that once belonged to the aforementioned foe.

"This... is not right."

The place he found himself in had the appearance of home, yet the evidence of sight was contradicted heavily by that of the sounds and smells that assaulted him. This city was far too noisy, and reeked of smells he had never before encountered. When he turned his gaze upwards, the sky too was obscured by great columns of mist that should not have been. This was very definitely not his home.

"What is this place?"

The question was asked of no one in particular, and indeed he did not expect an answer, but it was asked nonetheless. He could not recall anything that had been amiss after slaying the demon and initiating the shift back to the human realm, but something had clearly gone wrong between then and now. Had it been a trick? Some trap devised by a demon lord and baited by the lieutenant whose head he now held? If so, he had never heard of its like before and he would have to find some way to return and warn the others.

Turning to survey the remainder of his surroundings, his eyes fell immediately upon the armored form only a short distance away. Something about the figure smelled off, but the same could be said for this whole city. His sense of smell would be all but useless here.

"What realm is this, soldier?"

[Playerpvbm]

PV swung his shuttle to the left, narrowly avoiding a USIA Magnetically-Accelerated Projectile. He whipped his shuttle's modified tractor beam toward the enemy cruiser's weapon, ready to rip it off with all the malice a good pirate should have. He slammed his fist onto the button.

Then, he was in a brown, dry field outside of a towering brass city. The rear half of his shuttle was gone, the front buried a foot down in dirt. "Shit. Not again." With little to lose, but much to gain, he left his ruined vessel and traipsed through the firld toward a forest until he realized that the trees were covered in a black dust and were, quite obviously, dying. He turned slowly, activating his helmet's scanners to analyze the layout of the area. It was relatively flat, aside from the city to his left. He shrugged, checked his weapons, and headed off in that direction, each unaided step charging his advanced armor's battery.

He thought he something atop the highest building. A quick check on his helmet's scope told him that it was some sort of armored man. And a big one, at that. So, ignoring his instincts, he decided that it was probably a good person to ask about his whereabouts. He felt a bit better, now that he had a plan, and he could use his crippled shuttle for supplies if need be. And so, armed with knowledge, he progressed.