Avatar of Ciaran
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    1. Ciaran 7 yrs ago

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2 yrs ago
Current We got a new Skynd release. Today is a good day.
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2 yrs ago
It's been a few years, but yeah... I'm thinking I'm back
3 likes
5 yrs ago
Really in the mood for some gothic steampunk right now.
2 likes
6 yrs ago
Alright guys, I'm back. Will be posting very soon.
6 yrs ago
Estimating about two weeks until I can get my laptop replaced and my posting will be back up to speed.

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I mean if we're talking storylines then Thraxios (the wizard who split apart and then reforged the InVerse) is not currently accounted for, having travelled to another universe using high-level magic (though the inhabitants of the InVerse don't know, they think he just disappeared). He'd definitely work for a villain, having literally caused universe-scale chaos and death just to test the limits of his magic, but don't ask me how he'd lose. He's above the level of dudes like Thanos (with Infinity Stones) and Galactus. Sooooo maybe not.
Barric nodded solemnly. "Aye, well I certainly thank ye, for yer help there, sir. Bad at it was, it could've been much worse were it not for you and yer companions." In response to Vlad's request for another drink, he responded "Of course, sir. And since you did make sure it t'were not, as I said, much worse, it'll be on me. Same goes for any of the others, should they be inclined to pay us a visit as well."

It was at this point that Mark, Verdan, and Milo entered. "Speakin' o' which!" he said enthusiastically as they arrived. "Welcome, noble sirs! What can I get you?" Barric asked while sliding another glass of whiskey towards Vlad with a grin. He listened to the requests, paling somewhat when he heard Milo's, though he did catch the coin. He clearly took a moment to think carefully, before deciding to stick to his word. "This is yours, sir," he said, throwing the coin back "on the house! Though I must say, that's a lot of ale. Four- no, five gallons. Are ye sure?" He seemed to be regretting his promise of serving the heroes for free. Though he was grateful, very much so, he was worried that this would be very expensive.

Regardless, if Milo were to reaffirm that he did want five gallons of ale, then five gallons of ale would be served. If Milo were to change his order based on the new information about the inn's prices then that, too, would be served.

In the meantime, Barric was serving Verdan. "Strongest? Vodka it is, then. And ravens eat meat, right? I can bring ye some dried meat, if that's 'is fancy, but I honestly cannot say I've ever served a raven before."
@Ruler Inc Okay, I consider this to be the complete version of my universe sheet. I'm willing to add more, since I have plenty more ideas, if necessary. The only reason I didn't include all my ideas for this is it would take forever to write.

Well I figured I'd put up a WIP because I don't want to look like I'm doing nothing. And, @ZAVAZggg, because I like plays on words.

@Ruler Inc Don't worry, I've got it sorted. Really enjoying this concept, but it might take a while to complete. To give you an idea, I'll leave my current universe genres section here to see what you think of it.

Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Cyberpunk, Dystopian, Atompunk

This list is much more likely to grow than shrink.
Dang it I was gonna name my 'verse Entropy but now that's taken-ish. Time to be creative again I guess.

St. Mercer Hospital




Paige's dreams were, as if with those of the other Awakened, truly horrific.

She remembered the day she was shot. She saw herself obliviously walking home, perfectly unaware of what was about to happen. She wanted to scream at that younger, happier Paige, to tell her to run and run and not look back. She tried. But the younger Paige couldn't hear her.

Her present self saw the men go in to the store, but her past self paid no attention. It was only when she heard shouting that the past Paige looked into the store, and saw the two men pointing guns at the owner. They were jumpy, nervous. They had never committed a crime before, and were unused to the tension that came from the knowledge that their actions might ruin their lives. Quite possibly, they were also high. She saw them, and they saw that she saw them, saw her gasp and panic and try to decide what to in that split second. They reacted faster, but only out of instinct, not clear or logical thought. And so they were just as surprised as she was when there was a thunderous crack, the sound of shattering glass, and a shooting pain in her right thigh. The last thing that the younger Paige saw before she fell unconscious was the concrete rapidly getting closer.

Waking up, in a hospital. This memory nearly as unpleasant as the one before it. Feeling strange, and afraid. No one else present, no one else knowing she had woken up. Feeling weak, but wanting to understand why... why something. It felt like nothing she had ever felt before. In fact, it felt like nothing. Surely a bullet wound would hurt? Paige didn't understand, it was difficult to think clearly. Lifting the sheet, just to see, just to find out what had happened. And seeing nothing there. Nothing but a bandaged stump just a few inches above where her right knee should have been. Hyperventilating, panicking, as she understood. A doctor coming in, rushing over, just in time to see her fall unconscious.

The next few days were murky. They had been filled with dreams which seemed real, and realities which seemed dreamlike. Living through the event for the first time, then encountering it again and again in nightmares. Hoping that none of it was real, and she'd wake up at home, healthy and happy, any minute now. White lights. Seeing her parents. Polite conversations which never seemed to help. Neither Laura nor Michael were the sort of person who could help with purely emotional matters. When they wanted to make a person happy, they'd identify the source of the problem, work out how to fix it, draw up a plan... they were solution people. Not feeling people. And there was no solution here.

Paige watched herself go through all this. She saw herself realise that she'd never properly take part in any sport ever again. She saw herself feel that her life had been wasted, and that it no longer mattered what she chose to do. She saw herself put on the prosthetic for the first time, that which she hated so much, and which became a symbol of weakness for her, which she had relied on the rest of her life regardless, because she had to. Paige lived again through the worst days of her life.

The only mercy was that she did not have to relive the months that followed.




Paige woke up to a worryingly familiar scene. Once again, waking up in a hospital room. Her instinct was that this was another dream, but after a moment it was clear it wasn't; the room was similar, but not the same, and she didn't have that same feeling as before, that she as watching events she had already experienced. This time, it was happening now, and it was real.

And if it was real, she was in danger. Her last memories were of running, and of darkness and fear and death. Paige sat up in her bed as quickly as she could in this weakened state, spotting her crutch and prosthesis leaning against the wall, a few feet away. Close, but not close enough to reach from here. For anyone else, it was only two or three steps away. But for some, it's not that easy.

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, and set her left foot against the floor, and pushed off, hard. She fell against the wall, tried turning, and half-succeeded. Her back was now against the wall, with the crutch and prosthesis next to her, but in getting their, she had fallen painfully.

"Fuck!" she whispered harshly in reaction to the sudden pain, before setting about putting on the prosthesis.

Once finished, Paige slowly got to her feet, and made her way out into the corridor. She was just getting her bearings when she heard a scream.
I might not be home until Friday, but I plan to post basically as soon as I get back.
@Ruler Inc Fancy seeing you here.

Anyways yeah this sounds awesome. Option 2 interests me the most, and if we're melding it with 4 than I'd suggest a central universe in which the majority of the plotTM happens which none of the PCs are from, which is the collab 'verse. I'm not too bothered by the name, so whatever floats your boat. Not 100% sure on what universe I'd make yet, but I have a few ideas lying around somewhere.
Master Tack
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Location: Breakfast Room -> Music Room
Skills: N/A
Hit Points: 5
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"That's definitely true," Master Tack said, nodding thoughtfully. "I've never experienced, seen, or even heard of something similar happening. Interesting perhaps falls a little short, in terms of describing this party. As for the time we have, well, we aren't figuring out much standing here talking about how much we don't know, now, are we? I recommend we continue looking around, perhaps we'll find something worthwhile."

With that, Tack set his glass down - still mostly untouched - and had been about to head out into the courtyard when he heard raised voices coming from the music room. Instead, he walked quickly over to that door, a concerned expression on his face, before looking back briefly to see whether or not Sister Penance had followed. He then opened that door to a bewildering sight: a woman in men's clothing trying to stopper the injury of the bird-masked poet who had accompanied Tack at the back of the vehicle earlier, while the inflicter of that injury seemed to be Madame Mauve, the woman whose self-importance had disgusted him once before. Tack understood that the poet was strange, but he could see little reason to hurt him - though of course, he didn't have all the information, this did little to improve his opinion of her. Either way, he'd only had a moment to take this scene in, and so he did little but stand there in shock for next moment or so.
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