Alfhedil

The Weltkrieg: A Dieselpunk Alternate History RP

"You have not prevented anything, merely delayed the coming storm." - Otto von Bismarck to Frederick III, 1920

It is a far different world, one where the balance of power has been carefully maintained despite constant threats of new conflicts at every turn. Only once has Europe been brought to the brink of war, when the Archduke of Austria-Hungary was assassinated in the streets of Sarajevo. The skillful negotiation through a web of treaties, compacts and backroom deals at the hands of Frederick III narrowly avoided what many had thought to be one of the greatest potential conflicts since the Thirty Years War. Yet it only further embittered the belligerent powers further against each other. France still rails against the Prussians for their humiliation during the Franco-Prussian war, and has pointed the finger and threatened nearly every power for the last forty years in an effort to remain relevant in world politics. All the while Germany cultivates good will, scientific advancement and deepens the ties between the Kaiser and other ruling monarchs within Europe.

One of those advancements though will likely be what drives the next war, the next great conflict. Already stalking through the jungles of the Yucatan in that enduring insurgency, great beasts of steel and diesel make war against each other in a proxy conflict that has been burning since the Mexican Revolution, and likely will continue into the next century. Each nation has their own name for their own machines, from the Canadian "Highlanders" to the British "Centurion" and the French "CharB1 Medium". Warmachines of unparalleled power, enabling either a crew or a single person to mete out destruction of a regimental scale. Mechs. It is this one machine that is considered to be the pinnacle of the Golden Decade, and it is likely this one machine that will bring about… The Weltkrieg.

---

Just a short blurb above for the basics, but as one might guess, this is a Dieselpunk RP set in an alternate history setting where World War I simply didn't happen. Myself and a few others have been working for quite some time on the intricacies of what did or didn't change during the timeline, but for now I'm putting this up as a general interest check. So if you like mech on mech combat with a diesel flare, an advancing story that will see the tech advance alongside it, destruction upon an epic scale, and turning the geneva conventions into a checklist, by all means note your interest below.

Fallout: Land of the Sky

@Athol

Fair point, and Apollo is correct on the right way to implement my character into the rp. Thinking about it more and more I think making a super mutant character was a bad idea.

@Eviledd1984

Usually in cases like these, we tend to hash things out a lot more on the discord where back and forth conversation is a lot easier. There's only so much that can be done across the forum, so having a means of extending a topic throughout the day with smaller delays between is a lot more helpful. It is your choice, and I do think that it would still be a bit rough trying to integrate a super mutant PC into the group, but just saying that this would be a lot easier if you joined into the conversation with us lmao.

Star Wars(AU) - After Knightfall

@kingbell821 Pretty much keep things within reason and you're golden. Can yeet some ideas at us in the discord if you want to get some guidance along the way.

Star Wars(AU) - After Knightfall

@kingbell821 We are still active, so yes. What kind of character were you looking to make?

Fallout: Land of the Sky

Okay, so I got most of the Khaliya CS up for the moment. Still need to add the few years after the Brotherhood/Enclave war when she went back home to Montreal, and the time before she got picked up by the Brotherhood. As well as the whole deal about what she actually is.

Fallout: Land of the Sky

Khaliya, the Swordwind

Khaliya

_{{ "Personally, I think Sisterhood of Steel sounds better. Gotta have that alliteration." }}

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- General Characteristics -

| {Full Name} |

Khaliya

| {Nickname/Callsign} |

The Swordwind

| {Age} |

22

| {Gender} |

Female

| {Face Claim} |

Dichen Lachman

| {Dialogue Color} |

Purple

| {Appearance} |

Often enough mistaken for one of the myriad vault dwellers that pop up from time to time, Khaliya stands out among other wastelanders and even her own within the Brotherhood and Enclave. Seeming to be a person out of time and almost disconnected from reality, a near constant bemused smirk betrays her rather aloof nature and eccentricity. In fact rarely will a frown or serious expression cross her fairer features, and coupled with her shorter height of 5'1" one's first impression of her could be forgiven for seeing her as less than imposing. In civvies such things are made all the more difficult as it becomes harder to discern whether she really is a member of the Enclave, Brotherhood or just another dweller trying to blend. Yet as with all things, the truth is far more than that first impression.

That first note that she actually has some power behind the beauty lies in the way she always seems ready to move at a moment's notice. Muscle coiled and tensed, seeming primed to spring into action. Beneath the armor, the uniform or the casual clothes is a body honed by a warrior's calling. Athletic and toned she bears the marks of a life at war unseen across her bronzed skin. Bullet scars, knife wounds, claw marks and laser burns stitch a path along her body from the neck down, with only her face relatively unscathed, but not for the lack of wounds. It's only there that she has a bit of vanity, preferring to do the best she can to show her best face to new people.

---

- Psychological Profile -

| {Personality} |

As her more relaxed appearances would suggest, Khaliya is a rather aloof and eccentric sort, rarely taking anything seriously until it comes time to apply force. She often lets her eyes wander and tunes people out, something that gets her in a decent enough bit of trouble with her commanders, and gives her a general air of disinterest. Only when something draws her interest will she give her full attention, where she trends less towards aloof and more towards flirty for as long as her interest holds. This attitude remains even with those she is close to and at times can be even worse, though the small smile on her lips makes it clear she knows what she is doing and does it just to get a rise out of her friends. Don't be fooled by her otherwise cheery and mercurial demeanor however, for when her buttons are pressed, she is quick to shift into violence. To those who have witnessed such incidents, it is clear that perhaps there is more to the woman than the often blissfully unaware flirt, or the unconcerned observer, something that hints that it may just be a mask to cover the suffering of her past or something darker. Since she has always been loyal to her brothers and sisters of the Brotherhood, Enclave, and anyone she fights alongside, it has never come into question though, and most are content with just giving her that little bit of space and playing along.

| {Fears/Limitations} |

For Khaliya, someone who has spent the last fifteen years fighting with the Brotherhood and out in some of the worst combat zones in the wasteland, few things truly scare her and even then she does her best to hold firm to that cheery disposition. When faced with some of the dealiest creatures of the wasteland, the mutated horrors of those shadows left unchecked and the Vale itself she has held to her convictions. She has remained resolute and determined to pull through to the end no matter what. The one thing though that cuts through all of that, the one singular thing that will give her pause during battle is that inescapable truth. There will be loss. It's something she has yet to truly cope with fully, as it was never to be her calling to lead people into battle. Her nature has always been to make connections, to build bridges. To see one of those connections broken, especially in such a violent manner has always brought her trouble and is the source of those few frowns and tears in her life.

Deeper though there is far more to the woman that has been called "The Swordwind", "Star Paladin" and more recently "Major". It was something that festered deep within her psyche during her time with the Brotherhood. All those years working alongside other kids that grew up to become adults with her, and the connections that had been forged through countless hardships. It was the secret of who she was that slowly ground down at her every time someone called her a friend or confided in her, the fact that as she pretended to be a loyal member of the Brotherhood of Steel, she was in truth a spy for the Enclave. A spy that at any moment could be given the order to kill everyone she had known. Luckily for her and her conscience though, things turned out well for both herself and her people. Both of them. Now she operates openly as the bridge between the Enclave and the Brotherhood, forging a peace between those who were once bitter enemies.

Yet there still remains one more secret that could change how everyone sees her.

The Lie

| {Brotherhood Background} |

What follows is just part of who Khaliya is, though the years were lived as she chose to live them, even if she was not who she said she was throughout.

| {Place of Origin} |

Born in the outskirts of the Deadlands to a family of traveling merchants, for most of her early life Khaliya was just like any other wastelander. Living day to day on whatever she had, it wasn't until she was ten that she was introduced to the Brotherhood of Steel on their way to the Capital Wasteland and she was brought along due to her natural aptitude with mechanics. Ever since she has served with her brothers and sisters in arms and worked to ensure mankind never suffered at the hands of mishandled technology again.

| {Background} |

In an unforgiving wasteland few are ever given the chance to rise up above the hand they've been dealt. Khaliya had a hard childhood, but it was a decent enough one for the daughter of traveling merchants. She always had them by her side, had plenty of opportunity to pursue her hobbies and even developed the skills in mechanical engineering that would see her through later in life. Yet, as the wasteland giveth, the wasteland taketh away. No one ever had it easy, and her family had been given the easy road for far too long. While they had always made the journey from Boston to DC without issue and staying to the well-traveled paths, a storm out of the Glowing Sea had forced them to divert one year and take a dangerous detour. Both of her parents had been mercenaries before settling down for a calmer life, so for them it was just a matter of not wanting to expose their daughter to the violence, but for Khaliya who had never held a weapon before that point, it was when that youthful innocence died.

They had been beset by raiders outside Baltimore, a well known raider dominated city, and forced to go to ground. Her mother and father fought back with a tenacity she had only seen in comics, using every bit of cover they had to lay down punishing fusillades of plasma fire and taking little in return. It was only when her father took a bullet to the shoulder when she had been forced to take up a gun as well, taking her first kill at ten years of age and leaving her changed forever. An hour passed as the exchange intensified, the raiders knowing that there was only so much the two could do as their ammo dwindled, all the while they could simply call in fresh faces and guns to continue until all of that cargo was theirs. They truly believed they had a win until laser fire lit them up from their flanks and rockets trapped them from behind.

Charging in with all the tactical and technical superiority they were known for, the Brotherhood of Steel hammered the raiders down and crushed them under power-armored boot within a matter of moments after entering the fray. It was a hollow victory for Khaliya though. In the crossfire and confusion of the "rescue" her mother had taken a fatal wound and her father bled out despite their best efforts. The paladin who lead the lance told her she was lucky, but she felt nothing in her heart as she had been orphaned and had nothing left. It meant nothing that they offered to take her in and bring her with them to DC, nor that she was grudgingly allowed to keep her parent's weapons. The wasteland had taken from her everything and deep down a fire lit within her. Khaliya had seen the Brotherhood storm into the raiders and destroy them as if they were nothing, and once the grief had passed it inspired her.

She knew instinctively that if she worked for it, she too could become just like them and make the wasteland a fairer place. All she needed to do was convince them that she could be of value to the order, and it was an easy enough thing to do. For years she had just played around with electronics and basic tinkering, but even with a rudimentary knowledge at a young age, the Brotherhood knew that she could be taught the rest easily. In 2268 she was no longer an orphan, but had been adopted into a family with hundreds of brothers and sisters who were sworn to defend each other to the last.

For several years afterward, the days passed in either constant study or menial tasks. Being a squire had meant that much of her time was devoted as such, but she threw herself into it eagerly even while putting on a face for her fellows. It came first as a way to stop the looks of sympathy the Elders had for her, of being the orphan girl, and then when she found a smile made everyone more receptive, it became her. Khaliya took to the mask of a bright soul even as her first teacher died on patrol, then as one by one her friends left her to join the various orders, and finally when she herself took hold of a sword for the first time. It was easier to lie to them all and pretend she was not still grieving for all she had lost than to admit it and deal with their constant presence and sympathetic eyes.

By the time she had reached sixteen, she was no longer a mere child, and had become adept in basic combat roles. Already her swordplay was pushing the limits of her teachers, testing them and often requiring visits to medical when she had taken things far too seriously. While some among the Scribes wanted her for her aptitude with plasma tech in particular, she had been destined for the Knights since the moment she first held a weapon. In a short ceremony on a cold February day in 2274 her perseverance was recognized and Khaliya was officially knighted and given her own suit of power armor. For the first time in years, she felt truly happy and only moreso that the moment was witnessed by those friends who had remained. In particular one boy her age stood out, Jeremiah Bertrand, and it was his support as well as her own tenacity that had allowed her to keep going every day.

Yet there was no time to sit back and bask in the glory, for now that she was a knight, she had to train even harder to perfect what she knew. More than ever, Khaliya threw herself into her regimens, constantly working the mats in the combat centers and improving however she could whenever she could. Little downtime was ever had, and whatever she could find it slowly started to shift towards the local bar with her fellow knights. It hadn't taken much to convince her of taking to the drink, and though one or two regretted it severely she had found herself another mask to wear. Days were spent in training, constant motion with sword in hand and working to keep in peak physical fitness while her nights slowly drained away into the bottom of a glass and idle flirting with men and women alike.

It came to an end in 2276, for betrayal rocked the order and trust between members took a major hit. Though some had always felt that perhaps the leadership of Lyons was not the best and wasn't the direction they should be going, few had ever dared to voice it aloud. Khaliya was one of those, and even if she wasn't friends with Sarah Lyons, she would have remained in line anyways. So it came as a shock to her especially when Casdin openly defied the order and established his outcasts. Calls came immediately from some of the more hardline members in Lyons' camp to crush them, while others broached the idea of reconciliation and trying to work with them.

All for moot as the split had left them weakened and distracted, struggling to keep the wasteland safe and secure what few government institutions they could, while watching the Outcasts undo all of it with every operation. Supermutants and raiders beset their holdings, wastelanders felt safer on their own, and morale was at an all time low within the Brotherhood itself. In the year 2277, the Enclave struck hard to reclaim their dominance. Within just a few short weeks they had sallied from Raven Rock and moved to seize several other government facilities from the Brotherhood, combined with their other issues leaving them reeling and unable to properly mount a counter-assault.

Yet still they did, and for all that the Enclave gave them, Khaliya and her comrades gave it back and more. Vicious battles broke out in DC as the two factions went to war over control of the city, many helpless to look on as power armor clashed, and it was here that the Swordwind came into being. She was still just a knight, but her ferocity was unmatched as she crashed into the Enclaves lines and spearheaded attack after attack alongside her friends and the paladins of the order. Whenever a squad was down a man and needed assistance, she was there, smashing through walls if she had to in order to savage the enemy's flanks and give them support. Khaliya earned herself a promotion to Paladin within a few battles, the Elders impressed not just with her dedication to winning the war, but with the skill that she prosecuted each battle. She was not just some berserker, the countless years of hard training had given her a skill that left her with the title "Swordwind" and the respect of her comrades.

The war didn't end for her or her squad-mates with the capture of the Purifier as it did for many, as the Enclave was not one to give up so easily. She tracked them down alongside Jeremiah and Sarah, working with the Lyon's Pride to ensure the total destruction of their enemy. All the way to Adam's Air Force Base and the Mobile Crawler did they push. This time it was not just taking the fight to a few squads here and there harassing them in the streets of DC, now they fought on the Enclave's home territory where they had time to dig in and fortify. All around her fellow knights and paladins fell to return fire, but even as she took multiple hits and her armor screamed of critical damage, she pressed on with the Pride. They crashed through the Enclave's lines and took the crawler, shattering the last bit of resistance and sending them running in every direction with whatever they could carry. Only when at last the Brotherhood flag rose above Adam's Air Force Base and it was fully in their hands, did Khaliya collapse in her armor and rest.

Days later she would awake, finding herself within the Citadel's medical wing with the rest of the wounded and surrounded by friends. Despite herself, she managed a laugh, knowing that she had several new scars to add to her collection and already looked towards working to better herself for next time. The next few months would pass easily, as much of the order was still riding high on the crushing defeat of the Enclave, the endless supply of advanced tech they had salvaged and a bright future that was just a little too good to be true.

And in 2278 everything changed quite significantly.

---

- Survival Characteristics -

| {Non-Combat Skills} |

Mechanical Engineering(Plasma Tech): Ever since she was old enough to talk and work with her hands, Khaliya has had experience with taking things apart and putting them back together. At first it was just a few odds and ends, but as her mind became sharp and she got older, she learned the intricacies of mechanics and basic physics. In time she was able to field strip, clean and reassemble her duty weapon with the Brotherhood without even looking, but her interest always stuck with the plasma weapons her "parents" had left her. With practice and using whatever information she could find from pre-war databases, Khaliya has become an expert on Plasma technology.

Songstress: Something she tends not to indulge in except after a few too many drinks, she actually has quite the gift when it comes to song. It mostly comes from years of listening to the echoes of America before the war and singing along to herself while on patrol.

Infiltrator: Due largely in part to the nature of what she is and her duties, Khaliya has a certain knack for inserting herself into a community in one way or another, adapting to the local customs and blending in. It all comes largely from her observation skills, though in a pinch she is always able to pull off something or another to get the job done just as well. She's been noted as being gifted at covert ops to the point where if she doesn't want to be found, she never will, something that the Elders of the Brotherhood have grown accustomed to, but irritates most others she works with. Except the Ronto Rangers. They find it particularly hilarious.

Agriculture: A hobby at best, she picked up the basics years ago while studying some old documents left in a pre-war database. Khaliya's taken a liking to it though, often enough spending her off-hours that aren't drinking and flirting around in a bar watering her assorted plants. So far she's managed not to kill off her small garden back at base, and even cultivated a particularly potent hot pepper that has made many of her compatriots dread chili day.

Canadien: Where it was once used simply to denote one of french candian heritage, it is now more so a sort of an identity of what she truly is. Born in Montreal to the Enclave, she resonates more with the Canadian side of the border than the "southerners" as it were. This does leave her prone to look more favorably on her countrymen than what most would consider proper Americans though.

| {Possessions} |

Your clothes.
Your boots.
And your motorcycle.

| {Combat Skills} |

Close Quarters Expert: In an age of power armor, laser weapons and nearly everything armed with some kind of gun, melee weapons and the skills to use them effectively would normally be considered a last resort. Not for Khaliya. Even with her plasma pistols at her side, she will always reach first for her sword or spear. It has taken years of dedication and practice, with weapons both improvised and specially made, but the Star-Paladin has become a force of nature in close-quarters, proving herself in countless battles across the Capital Wasteland and beyond.

The Swordwind: Above all else though, it is the sword which has not only earned her title, but has saved her life and the lives of her comrades many times over. With her blade "Perihelion" in hand, she becomes something else, wheeling and spinning with it to slash and thrust from every angle. She has mastered the art of the sword to a degree that she has refined her own specific style of swordplay and excels in close combat. Even in power armor, it is a fluid and dynamic style that relies on constant motion and weathering attacks, beating down her opponents with either a thousand cuts or precise and efficient assaults from every angle. It is for that reason the Brotherhood has called her "The Swordwind" for to try and stop her is tantamount to trying to stop the northeasterly winds.

Pistolier: Mostly out of the insistence of an old friend, Khaliya picked up a pistol years ago and learned how to use it effectively for those times when an enemy was just out of reach of the sword. Time and patience allowed her to hone the skill, eventually getting another and using them in tandem.

Power Armor Training: An expected skill, Khaliya has twelve years of experience using and maintaining power armor frames and the armor itself to the point where it's almost like a second skin for her.

None Can Stay My Wrath: For a woman who stands shorter than most, and has had to have custom-built power armor, Khaliya has a staying power on the battlefield that speaks of an iron will and refusal to give a single inch of ground. She has stormed through the withering hail of laser and plasma fire from Enclave troops at the Purifier, faced down the worst of the wasteland, and no matter how badly wounded she gets, she refuses to back down. No, instead she pushes forward and becomes more aggressive, calling out to her comrades with inspiring quotes and working the lines. It is a double-edged sword though, this tenacity of hers, for more than once it has left her on her back in the medical wing for months after a battle that had been won, but should have been withdrawn from.

| {Gear} |

Holotags
Hazmat suit
Case of Microfusion cells

"Perihelion" - Her first sword reforged and heavily modified, it is this weapon specifically that earned her the name "The Swordwind". Based primarily on an old Chinese Liuyedao found within a museum, it has since been chipped, shattered and broken in numerous battles to be repaired, reforged and born anew stronger each time. Khaliya has extended the blade twice to a full length of 48 inches and enhanced it to electrify at the press of a button hidden within the hilt. It has served her well for years, and the slight hum of the microfusion cell in the pommel brings her comfort like few things can anymore.

"Aphelion" - Unlike most weapons that fail to hold her interest beyond idle practice, this spear in particular has been of great use in more than one way over the years. Just like her main-hand, Aphelion has seen significant modification in order to enhance the killing potential to maximum. Featuring barbed hooks on each prong of the trident head, the haft has been reinforced with a wrap of tungsten welded to the steel core to keep it sturdy. What is truly unique about the spear though, is not something as mundane as electrifying the tip or making it light on fire. No, Khaliya wanted something else when it came to Aphelion, and under the supervision of the Scribes, she installed miniature rockets into the base of the head connected to an internal gyroscope. With just a simple thrust forward they ignite, significantly boosting the impact force. More often than not though, she uses it as a ranged weapon on its own, hurling it forward as a rocket-propelled spear.

"Solstice and Equinox" - Long ago given to her as a gift upon starting her mission by then-colonel Autumn, the pair of plasma rifles were to serve as "heirlooms" from her fictional parents salvaged from some forgotten conflict on the East Coast. At first they simply resided in her quarters as mementos and something to practice on when needed, but with the insistence of her closest comrades, she looked at them as weapons of her own. Not being skilled with rifles by any means, she took out the critical components and adapted them into the frames of a pair of 1911 pistols with all the skill she had to force them to work. At the end of it, she managed a haphazard set of plasma pistols, but she wasn't done with them by any means. Despite her distaste of sitting still, the downtime that came after the Enclave Civil War left her with ample opportunity to further modify the weapons. Through tinkering and borrowing of parts, she turned them from makeshift pistols into the weapons they are today. Nearly identical except for a few markings to set them apart and indicate holster, both plasma pistols are fully-automatic weapons capable of bursting out an entire cell within seconds to deliver lethal fusillades of plasma fire.

Feeling ignored. Part 2.

It's not you or people judging you based on your age when it comes to why people aren't clicking on your interest checks and showing interest. It's just a thing that happens to everyone, like it's hard enough for some of the regulars to get fresh interest in their things. Most people I know generally shift from RP to RP in their own group, picking up a few, dropping a few along the way. This is just how it works.

I would seriously suggest listening to some of the prior advice though, especially in dialing back and trying to just integrate into the community first. Join up with a few RPs that look interesting. Make connections with people and get to know them. After a while you'll have some people that you could just say "Hey, I got this idea." and there's a few guaranteed players. This stuff takes time.

Legacy of Heroes: The New Age

@EchoicChamber If that's what you feel is necessary, then we wish you all the luck going forward and thank you for letting us know. Do know though, that you absolutely can just jump right back into things with us and pick up where you left off. Some of us might need reminding, but most of us understand that life happens and we're accepting of that. Either way, do take care of yourself.

Legacy of Heroes: The New Age

Location: ???
Date: ???

You shall become that successor, Brooklyn, and all you have to do is touch my staff, say my name, and bear the responsibilities…

The call rang out across time and space like the tolling of a bell, signaling a change in the status quo. Someone had finally been chosen, and whether it was because they actually were found worthy or it was desperation that drove the Wizard to selecting this person did not matter. Already forces were at work elsewhere in the universe, awoken by the stirring of the arcane currents. It began with the soft pulse along the leylines. A single beat like that of a long stilled heart. Once. Then twice. Even without her acceptance, the currents had responded to the Wizard's choice and his own activity. Now, there was but one thing left to do…

It began just as the girl's foot connected with the aging magister's crystal balls, sending the already weakened man down the stairs and vulnerable to the next assault. Fires lit just behind her, sprouting from five points in space seemingly with nothing but the air to combust. The points flared up as more and more power flooded into them, a roaring inferno filling the rear of the chamber as lines formed. Each point connected to the other with a blazing string of dripping fire, sizzling pops and cracks sounding as each droplet melted the flagstone and it began to run in a single path just between the legs of the five-pointed star that had been formed. A surreal sound began to build just beyond the fiery design, like the screaming of thousands of souls in torment, and then the full pentagram formed.

With a shockwave that burst forward with a heated pulse the portal formed between the points of the star. Two titanic hands reached from the depths of hell, clinging to the edges of that tear in space with claws digging into what seemed like nothing at all. They wrenched the gateway slowly open wider, a demonic face leering from the torments of hell itself, the fires of the damned burning across the horizon of the world beyond. It seemed for a moment as if the demon was pull itself through, its shoulders pushing past the burning pentagram and the horned crown of its skull leering down upon the pair just before it. Then just as the fanged maw opened, it too caught alight and let loose a keening call that shook the foundations of that mystical place, dust falling from the ceiling as flesh turned to bone and the portal was complete.

Between the sharpened teeth of the lower jaw a distinct path had formed, and just beyond two men made their way from what surely have been the domain of satan himself. Strangely enough though, both were quite well dressed and seemed to be speaking amicably to each other. That much was evident even as they casually strolled through the darkened hall of the demon's throat, and when finally Armani shoes touched down upon the relatively more normal stone.

"Well." Began the one to the left, smoothing down the gray jacket of his three-piece suit and taking a quick look to confirm that the relatively plain cuff links on each sleeve were undamaged. "Here we are Raymond, at least I certainly hope so. This looks something more my father's style if you don't mind me saying." He spoke in a genteel manner, his accent distinctly British even if he had just stepped out of the mouth of a demon.

While he might not be immediately recognizable, his counterpart was more so by a considerable margin. Raymond von Luneburg, the rather eccentric and reclusive multi-billionaire who had made a living in recent years pioneering weapons and energy technologies. His face had previously been plastered across Time magazine 2018 as their man of the year for his sponsorship of scientists across almost every field and the college he had built in Central City. What exactly he was doing here though…

"Always a pleasure Lucifer." Because of course making deals with the devil came with perks it seemed, something his opponents had been rather fond of accusing him of. Then again, with him standing next to someone named Lucifer and having stepped out of the mouth of a demon it might be a bit harder to argue against such sentiments next time, at least to one person. "But I am fairly certain this is the place… Ah, that it is. Excuse me for just a moment." Then his attention turned to Brooklyn right as she was about to drop about thirty pounds of education on the dusty old man at her feet. "If you wouldn't mind, we still need him alive for at least five minutes, so do hold on beating the last vestiges of life out of him."

"Oh, she is quite the fiery one isn't she. Got quite the spirit, though a bit young." That earned Lucifer a hard stare from Raymond and before the girl in question could have something to say about it he held up a hand to pause both. "I might be the devil, but I've got standards so don't even go there. Either way, I did my part, so you two do have fun. I have a meeting with an Austrian in five that I would prefer not to miss. Still have to figure out where to get the pineapples though…" And then the well-dressed fallen angel turned and began his walk back into the depths of hell, a single wave given behind his back as the portal closed behind him.

Raymond barely cast a glance in the direction of the departing devil, only acknowledging that he had left before taking an easy step closer to the other two occupants of the room. "Right, now that that is settled, let's talk about you. Might want to have a seat on the stairs, as it may be a little much to take in. Our friend here was a little sparse on details, preferring to just throw the title at whoever seems closest to worthy and hoping it sticks. Personally, I like to ensure that the chosen knows exactly what they are getting into."

"So with that said, shall we see to explaining all this?"

---

---

Location: Central City East
Date: January 1st, 2020

Today will be a normal day.

The thought came as she awoke early as usual, the sun not yet peeking over the horizon. It had been a bit of a rough two months but now that she was home and settling back in, things were slowly getting more and more normal. First had been the relatively short physical therapy under the absolutely ruthless girls that claimed themselves to be scientists. V personally thought they were drill instructors in a former life and wondered how something so small could be so loud and demanding. Yet they were thorough in ensuring that she awoke from what had been a nine month coma in decent physical shape. For that she was thankful at least and made sure they were aware of her appreciation. Not at all because they could light on fire at a moment's notice. No, of course not. In truth she kind of missed having them around all the time, smiling softly to herself as she went about her early morning routine.

Clothes first as always, something light and easy for the midwest morning. Sports bra, a light vest, some sweat pants and she was all good to go. Soft steps brought her down the stairs from her room and into the lobby where she made sure she had everything else for her early morning run. "Let's see… Phone, check. Headphones… Check. Shoes?" Verra paused for a moment as she looked to what she thought was her usual spot for her shoes but found them missing. That was odd, they were usually right there… A slight surge started along her body, energy coursing through her and static rising from her skin as for that instant she very nearly relied on her abilities. "Normal day Verra, normal day." She reaffirmed that to herself, taking a deep breath and thinking on what she had done the previous day like any normal person would have done.

It would have been so much easier and faster to turn the place over in search of her running shoes of course. A single second could have passed and she would have been able to look through the entire house from top to bottom. But that wasn't what normal people did, and that wasn't part of a normal day. Even if she had these powers she was determined to use them responsibly, if at all. So many people had been inconvenienced at the very least by what had happened six months ago, a plight she could sympathize with even if it seemed what she had been gifted with was all positive. Well, at least she felt it all was with her natural optimism. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sight of a pair of white running shoes with a little pink lightning bolt on each heel. "Ah! There you are!" She exclaimed, bouncing over to slip them over her sock-covered feet and finally be ready to head out.

"Okay! Four-AM run ready!"

And then she was off, out the door and locking it behind her as she jogged across the street to the sound of Prada's Still Fly and her playlist running. Here out on the eastern side of Central it wasn't as big a deal to make sure the door was locked, but her mother had instilled the practice in her early, teaching her that it didn't matter how safe an area was, it was best to be prepared just in case. That didn't hold with her in every respect, but she made sure the door was locked every time she passed through it just to know it would make her rest a little easier. A few others were out jogging as well, mostly the other early-morning people, but she recognized a couple as those she had encouraged earlier last year to give it a shot and put their all into it. She gave a smile and a wave at a couple who had committed to losing weight together, looking as if they had been determined to do so and cheerfully waving back to her.

"Hey Verra! Good to see you around again!"

"Good to see you too Mr and Mrs Allen!"

The jogging paths through the park across the street from her house were sparse as usual, just the calls of the birds through the music pumping in her ears. Of course because of her newfound powers this was hardly much of a workout anymore, her heartbeat a steady adjusted 50 or so. That adjustment calculation had been done by the pair of firecrackers in the employ of Harrison Wells, along with a lecture on appropriate exercises to keep herself better fit. She had kind of glossed over the former, but the latter had actually helped significantly in keeping down her caloric intake and keeping to a normal diet. That was a downside, she decided that now. Running fast always made her hungry and she still felt bad for getting her and Thea kicked out of that buffet, especially since it was one of the best ones this side of town. She really did love a good General Tso… Especially nice and fresh with extra sauce… Vee sighed as she found herself getting hungry already and it was only a half hour into her run, not even five yet.

Still, she was committed to taking things at a normal pace! She wasn't going to skip ahead and get home early no matter how hungry she was, and… Verra stopped as she looked over to see two figures struggling in the darkness near one of the park bathrooms. One looked to be a younger woman with a purse, the other an average sized man clutching at the latter. Normal day… Normal day… Normal day… She sighed as she couldn't just let that go, a surge of energy going through her body as she stepped just off the path and near a tree.

It all happened in the span of a single half second, so fast that in the time it took the woman's fingers to leave the cloth of her purse's strap it was all over. Verra let the speedforce engulf her, breathing out as the rush came over her, time seeming to slow down as she took one step after another. It was dark enough that no one would have seen her disappear from the side of the tree, but light enough that she was able to see as she came up next to the would-be mugger and take a moment to figure out how best to deal with this. Physical violence really wasn't her thing, so hitting him was right out especially since she had tried hitting things at STAR and there were some… Concerning results. The one tech said something along the lines of severe concussive force or something? She didn't remember offhand, but it wasn't something she was willing to do to someone who was just making a really bad choice. That and it would have been rather obvious that the red streak that had been talked about so much lately would have been involved. So, after a moment's thought on the matter, she decided, did her thing and returned to the tree where she had originally stepped off the path.

The momentum of the tug that caused the woman to lose her grip on the purse had carried through, the mugger smirking in the shadow of the grey hoodie over his head. Without even thinking he went to take that first step that would see him sprinting off into the darkness, but something went critically wrong. Instead of completing the step, his foot was caught partway, sending him head into concrete with a pained groan and losing grip of the purse. Both the mugger and the woman paused in confusion, looking down to see the man's shoes tied together by their shoelaces and thusly ending his criminal attempt. Verra gave a little laugh as she took back to the path, starting to put the earbuds back in her ears as there was a loud shout of "Pecker!" And then a man screaming in panic as the woman rewarded him with his efforts with pepper spray.

She was pretty confident the rest would solve itself, going about her morning jog just in time for the local officers to come onto the scene. There was a brief wave between them and all was good for the next little bit. Everything else had gone pretty smoothly as she came back home, just a little worked up but not by much, feeling a bit hungry and wondering if the chinese place down the road was open yet. Probably not, she decided, heading back inside and finishing up her morning routine. Workout clothes off, rinse off, shower and then get dressed in house clothes for what she was hoping to be a pretty lazy day. She even got out the extra sugary cereal for today, feeling that little bit of a craving as she watched the morning news and started texting her morning buddies to see what was going on. First of course was Thea, who she was sure was already up and active.

Hey! :D
Just seeing if you're up, having a super normal day today and hope you're having a good one too! :D
Date night on the fourth! Don't forget! ;o

And then it was Kara, who she was sure wouldn't be- Her thoughts were interrupted by the news at noon, a breaking report from Keystone. A bank robbery had just happened, the police on scene and news cameras rolling as they were updating as the situation unfolding. Okay, so not entirely ideal but it looked like everything was being… No, she was confident the police could take care of this. She didn't need to get out that costume her and Kara had made for her, and she was sure her best friend wouldn- Well. As she watched the scene on the TV changed rather dramatically, a woman descending from the sky and making a spectacle of handing the would-be bank robbers' butts back to them one by one. Of course she knew who it was almost immediately and just sighed as she wrote off having a normal day. Things had been going pretty well too…

Omg Kara
Kara
Kara!
Kara!!!
Kara >:|
I know you have your phone on you, that thing never leaves your pocket >:|
And I know you still text and fly! There's a hole in one of the billboards along the river! D:
All I wanted was a normal day Dx
Just one normal day! Dx

Fallout: Land of the Sky

Just to ensure there's a little more understanding going forward, I'll add on to some of the thoughts Archer has put forward regarding the RP. In addition to taking a bit more of a serious tone, at least in terms of characters and main plots, this isn't going to function like the games at all. I would heavily advise that anyone interested take that in mind before writing a character for this, that we will not be unstoppable. Our characters will not be bullet sponges even in power armor, and that a single bullet has the capacity to kill just as it does in real life. If someone makes a poor choice then there is the very real possibility that their character could die from some raider.

The priority here is the story, not recreating the game.