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    1. DR_TRAPEZOID 11 yrs ago

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Wind slowly wafted through the tundra, bringing with it a deep chill, but relatively little precipitation. In the midst of the stone and snow, a herd of large quadrupeds trotted slowly on their migrant journey across the lands, escaping the surely oncoming storm. Currently they were moving rather slow, allowing some to munch on the sparse fauna, while the stragglers caught up to the general mass of the herd. One of the beasts, larger in stature than the rest, let out a deep groan, a message to the herd. The massive dented horns on the beast signified that he was the leader of the herd.

Far behind the herd, laid a large outcropping of stone, the sharp boulders jutting out of the ground. Deep in the shadows of these rocks laid a small beast, short limbed and stocky, it let out a malicious giggle, raising it's face, masked with a crudely shaped plank. Its eyed trained on a single animal out of the herd, farther out than the rest, and sporting a limp in its hind leg.

Without wasting any time, the small creature slithered towards the creature, keeping close to the ground as it sped forward in pursuit of its prey. The larger beast turned it's head, letting out a slight grunt, before attempting to speed up into a gallop, failing to do so, thanks to it's limp. Fear rose in the animals beady eyes, as it lowered it's horns, accepting defeat, but not before letting out a warning shout to it's herd, who all began to move away from the doomed beast, not expending any energy running. The horned animal gave one last forlorn glance to his herd, the young children he had sired.

The gray imp sprung up from the ground in an impressive leap, claws sinking deep into the hairy hide of the animal, grey knuckles turning white. The massive hairy beast reared back in one last futile attempt at survival, before the imp slashed his claws, taking a massive chunk of flesh and fur from the neck of the beast. Another snicker resounded through the grassy plains as the horse-like beast crashed to the ground, shaking the ground as the air rushed out from its lungs in one last cry, before the life left the beasts body, its eyes rolling back.

The imp smiled over its kill, laughing as blood spurted out of the ruptured jugular. After a moment, the joy left his eyes, realizing the next task at hand. Now that he had killed the beast, he had to drag the beast back to his master, a rather far distance to travel across the tundra. A sigh of exasperation hissed through the coarse mask that served as the imps mask as it looked up and down at the hairy corpse. It was easily four times the size and weight of the small gray creature, towering over the imp, even in death. Grumbling in its strange chatter, it took a grasp of the animals leg, glad his master had given him hands suited for such heavy lifting.
Viktor sighed, turning away from the sword he had been sharpening. It was idle, as he waited for his slaves to do their work, and he was rather glad to see one of his human husks standing at his door, standing strictly straight, showing stalwart satisfaction, waiting to be addressed before moving from his rigid state. Viktor had noticed a certain boost in loyalty ever since he removed the humans souls. It might've been one of his best decisions as of yet, and he mentally took a moment to commend himself for taking such action.

Viktor waved his hand in the direction of the half-metal human, giving him permission to speak, while still giving a stare that said 'Do not waste my time'. In a slightly echoed voice, the man spoke up. "We have finished work on the summoning room, we believe it to be fit for your wonderful standards, m'lord." Said the Husk, no longer holding the human fear that he once would've spoken with. As Viktor was about to speak, the husk opened its mouth again. "Also, the imps in your quarry have something interesting to report." Finished the man, before raising his fist in a salute, before being dismissed.

Viktor had been rather happy with the first bit of news, but was a bit concerned as he strode out of his Dungeons Heart, to check on his quarry and summoning room. He strode first to the summoning room, a mere few paces away, to gaze upon his newly finished place. Viktor let out a hearty chuckle as he stepped through the mahogany double doors, loving the sight. Though the room had functioned before, it was a sight to be seen now. The large room was lined with stone slabs, rising to about waist high, serving as workbenches. Each was armed with a small furnace, as well as one massive furnace on the far wall, currently unlit to save precious resources. Beautiful tapestries lined the walls, the silky fabric spinning wonderful tales of old, taken from other rooms around the castle.

"Yes. This shall do nicely." Viktor said, congratulating his slaves on their work, before he walked out of his castle, into the town. A few of the houses had been stripped down to provide material in his endeavors to expand, but a majority of the village stood, corpses still scattered around. Viktor made a mental note to use them later. As he reached the center of his town, he saw the quarry, a massive pit in the ground, rectangular in shape, slowly sloping downwards. At the entrance to the stony cavern stood two imps, next to a pair of torches, illuminating a ways into the pit. There was a scorch mark burned into the ground at the entrance, as well as a small trace of red pigmentation- could it be blood?

The imps spoke quickly as soon as their master neared. Their speedy chatter was still sounded a bit like gibberish, but managed to get the point across. However he did miss one part, and asked them to explain it more slowly. The imps quivered, before speaking again, straining to talk at a normal pace. "We... In mine. Strange black powder, methinks useful. Zagar takes bucket of powder to surface. We hear big boom, so we go looky. Zagar gone, black powder gone, big fire. We look more, got lotsa black powder. We keep down here. Black powder no like fire." One of them said, his speech choppy.

Viktors eyes lit up. This was quite the development. The imps had, not only gotten him quite enough stone to continue building, and iron to supply his troops, but now he was receiving some magical powders? This day was seeming almost too good to be true. As he left the mine, he took with him a bucket of the strange black powder, taking care to keep it away from any torches. He called out for all of his men, save the ogre guards, they wouldn't have the thought capacity to understand what was about to happen. Soon his slaves were gathered in the town square, with Viktor standing tall over them.

"Today, my friends, we have suffered a great loss, a loss of Zagar, an honorable imp and a hard worker." Viktor said, looking through the small crowd. "However, his loss has not been in vain. With his noble sacrifice, we now have a new weapon to use against those who would dare oppose us. Zagar was close to many, but we cannot afford to waste time in mourning. We must continue to grow, advance, lest we be struck down by another army, and insult the life of our precious imp friend. Now husks. Go, build up our walls with this stone, our walls shall stretch to the sky!" He said, gesturing to the stone dug up from the quarry. "Imps! Continue to dig, we must amass our resources, create a stockpile with no end!" Viktor said, raising both arms. "FOR BLOOD! FOR GLORY! FOR VICTORY!" He shouted to his men, raising their spirits.

As Viktor returned to his Dungeon Heart to study this new black powder, he was inturrupted by a furious knocking on his door. He stood up, glad he hadn't been creating a blueprint at that moment. He swung open the door, surprised to see an imp, with many arrows sticking out of the small creatures leathery hide. The imp let out a small squeak. "City... South-East. Long march. Large army. Scary." It spoke, despair in its childlike voice, before it crashed to the floor, dying in the puddle of blood that it had left. Viktor clenched his fist. He felt responsible for his children, and could not tolerate such slaughter of his innocents, disregarding the slaughter he had caused of this town not too long ago.

"Stamrad! Bring me corpses from the village!" Shouted Viktor, rage filling his voice. As the suit of armor approached with a lifeless body, Viktor let out only a grunt, none of the usual formal salutes. Unceremoniously slinging the sack of flesh and bone onto his table, Viktor let out a burst of magic, slamming his door shut, while alerting his men that he was not to be disturbed. Stamrad stood at attention in front of the stained wood, holding his blade steady, a bit curious as to what his master did behind closed doors.

D'aaaw. I'll miss you.
Bump
Grease thought through what the others had said for a moment, letting a thousand scenarios run through his head, before he caught himself. 'No, don't think.' he scolded himself, before he piped up. " I can definitely be bait. I'd like to show those bastards a thing or two about messing with us." He said, liking how well this group had come together.

He did shoot a quick concerned glance in Jen's direction. He already was wary of 'Captain Conductor', he just hoped that this sand-lady only got like this when she was drunk. He didn't like having to already deal with one liability.
I could use something like this in my life.
John Black opened his eyes, his brain pulsating as a splitting headache ruptured through it. He sighed, sitting up. He looked down at the rather soft bed he was on, taking in the smell of the recently washed sheets. Another quick glance around the room, and he remembered what had happened. The hotel key card told him where he was. The lack of any mess reminded him that he still had to unpack. Finally, the man hanging from the ceiling told him that he had committed a murder last night.

The details were still a bit foggy, but John remembered one thing. It was fun as hell. He stood on his feet, stretching, as he let out a well-deserved yawn. Conveniently enough, there was still some liquid left in the glass of iced tea on the hotels desk. The antioxidants in the drink did wonders for him, as it helped him produce dopamine faster, and just tasted good. Nothing gave him a perk better than his good old iced tea, save a nice glass of red wine, but that wasn't currently available.

"Now, onto the matter at hand..." John thought to himself, looking at the body. The man’s neck was squeezed tight by a thin strip of leather, decidedly the man’s belt, judging from how low his pants hung. The belt was tied tightly onto the ceiling lamp above. To any single glance, it almost appeared to be a suicide. Hell, it even fooled John for a second, until the iced tea kicked in, and his memories came flooding back.

A rudely loud and persistent knock rang on the door of the hotel room. A man could clearly be seen through the peep-hole, yelling at the top of his lungs. John threw a quick look at the clock as he walked over to the door. 'What could he want at 2 AM?' John thought to himself. A longer glance through the peep-hole showed that the angry bald man was sporting a pistol, waving it carelessly as he yelled, something about 'BLOODY CONDUITS, RUINING MY CITY'. What nonsense. However, John couldn't just let this man go on to the next room, and attack whatever conduit or non-conduit caught his eye.

So, he graciously opened the door, while simultaneously willing pain to flow through the man’s body. Surely enough, the man fell to the floor, writhing in the pain, as John dragged him into the room. 'Poor baby. Did you get a booboo?' He asked, as he began to tie the noose, wasting no time in executing the bastard. He really didn't have time to deal with the formalities and whatnot, as he was already jet-lagged from the trip he just took to France, and using up most of his dopamine did not help in the slightest. What he needed was his beauty sleep.


So now that the puzzle pieces had been put together, John smiled, impressed with his handiwork. He knew that it wouldn't be long now until someone he knew noticed he was gone. However, John didn't worry about that, as he was a conduit- no a god. The police couldn't stop him. John went down to the lobby of the hotel, after putting on a nice new suit, and picking up his suitcase. After buying another iced tea form the hotels small store, he checked out, walking into the busy streets of New York.

He pulled out his phone, peering at the bright screen. He had written down a list of things to do while in New York, among them being climb the Empire State building, go to 'The Cinder', a popular pub for conduits, and learn about this so-called Syndicate that was terrorizing his kind. Perhaps there was something valuable that he could learn from them. Climbing the Empire State building was crossed off, and a quick check showed that he had taken a picture of himself scaling the side of the massive building. 'Being a conduit is amazing.' He thought to himself.

"Well, I suppose that pub is next. It couldn't hurt, and hell, he might find someone who could help him in his search for the Syndicate. So, he caught the first cab he could get, and took a trip quick down to the street it was on. More than a bit paranoid, he peered in through the windows, 'casing' the place. He saw a few people, not nearly as many as he had expected. He locked eyes with a rather surly fellow in a leather jacket while peering in, and immediately looked away, whistling in a rather suspicious manner.

Deciding that, all in all, it couldn’t be too bad of an idea, John walked towards the pub, noting that all seemed to be focused on the bartender. As he entered, he took a brief minute to focus, sending a wave of pleasure through the minds of everyone in the room. This was to put them off of their guard, in case they attempted to attack them, as well as making himself seem more powerful. He had a more imposing effect when he could make you feel good just by walking into the room, he had found.

"No one here would happen to know of any group of ruffians running around, I believe that they call themselves 'The Syndicate'?" He asked as he walked in, not hearing any of the previous conversation.
Thanks. I was kind of afraid that I might've gone too far out of the box with my power.

Fog drifts over the rolling mountains of metal, lights blinking in and out through the deep grey blanket. As you stagger forward, you see it- a massive metal hand, reaching into the sky, with a clenched fist, challenging all who would dare oppose it. The plated gauntlet stood stories high, many sheets of metal missing, revealing mismatched wiring. As you approach it, you stumble over a pile of scrap metal, falling to the ground, a crashing noise echoing around you.

With no hesitation, a spotlight springs to life, cutting through the fog, focusing in on you. A loud clicking repeats, the sound of empty guns, ammo long expended. metallic groans fill the air, and the spotlight wavers. "RUN!" screams your brain, but you can't, fear anchors you in place.

THUD

THUD

THUD


The groaning stops, as well as the rhythmic thuds that shook the ground beneath your feet. You turn, to see seemingly hundreds of yellow lights spring to life, standing in groups of two, staring into your soul. One steps forward, the fearsome beast letting out a growl. Then you feel it, and look up. The sight of the bottom of a massive steel boot is your last sight before it all goes black.


Interested?

I plan on making this a darker survival based RP, in a junkyard-like setting. Now, here's what you need to know.





I hope y'all are interested.
Yaaay for multiple characters.


Name:
John 'Pain' Black

Age:
21

Gender:
Male

Appearance:


Side:
Undecided. He believes in doing the right thing, but only if it benefits him, and the advancement of the human race in some way.

Personality:
Pain thinks himself a god among mortals, a man living in a world of cardboard. His intelligence is matched only by his ego, and he believes that those who aren't conduits are a lower species. He is, in general, a kind person. His god-complex makes rather difficult for him, as he cannot cope with losing.

Biography:
Born into a rather boring family, Johns life was mundane, to say the least. However, there was some excitement when his parents were killed by a rogue conduit. At the time, he was too young to fully understand it, but came to terms with it in an orphanage, where he lived happily, until he was adopted at the age of 10.

His adoptive parents were interesting folks, a match seemingly made for each other. His mother, a brain surgeon, his father, a teacher of logic and philosophy. They were a happy couple, and provided a loving environment for their son. However, with parents of that career, naturally, their teachings were greatly imposed on his young brain.

He learned a lot, and all very quickly. However, his parents weren't actually around a lot, other than their teaching sessions, and as such, he was glazed of many emotions. Nothing terrible, he didn't actually become a sociopath, but he wasn't the best at social interaction.

As he grew up, conduits became more and more interesting to him, and he was rather disappointed in the fact that he didn't have any power like that of his idols, the god-like conduits, standing above the mortals. But, he didn't give up- no, he was a self-proclaimed scientist. He experimented!

Many experiments later (and explosions), John had absolutely no powers. He had tested through every chemical he could possibly obtain, and had absolutely no results. Then, he realized something obvious, something he should've tried ages ago. Stress. Many conduits showed their true merit when they were put under stress.

So he went off, on a mission- a mission to be mugged. He knew it was stupid, and he knew that it wouldn't work. But then, something amazing happened. As he laid on the cold concrete, bruised, bleeding, and broke, his power manifested. He felt it deep inside, and he made them hurt. Those who dared mug him. Then those who dared bully him. Then those who looked at him in a strange way. His power was maddeningly great to him, and almost corrupted him.

But when he had thoughts of bringing the pain to his parents, he realized that it had gone too far. He restrained himself, forcing his new dark side deep down, not wanting to let those he loved get hurt. So, he went back to his old self, silently studying, stifling his sheer strength.

Power:
That's a rather complicated thing. If you were to ask him, he would simply answer pain, to make a long story short, and that's what he referred to it as, upon finding his ability. But it goes much deeper than that. Upon much studying, he has realized that he actually has the power to manipulate the chemical dopamine, found in his brain. Upon overusing his power, he gains massive splitting headaches, and will black out if he takes it too far.



Other: He is not very combat oriented, as his powers don't allow him to actively fight. He also cannot move around nearly as fast as his fellow conduits, again, his powers don't allow him to. These sacrifices are not in vain, as he can be very powerful when he has the drop on his enemies, and is rather good with planning.
Grease looked up from his drink when the two others entered. One he recognized from earlier. What was her name? He thought to himself, before deciding that she hadn't told him. Silently, he decided to refer to him as Draculette, until he could put a name to the face. The other person... He was unsure of her. From the unusual clothing, he guessed them to be a flamboyant conduit, or a fan of some weird anime. She almost looked familiar, something on the news, perchance? It was definite that she was a conduit when he saw her vanish, then reappear.

He opened his mouth slightly to comment on what Zeke said about Eli not needing any more beer, but he had seen what Eli could do. It was not something he wanted happening to his face. "Right now, I don't think any of us need alcohol. If this info about the Syndicate is anything useful, we don't need any drunk fools stumbling around, and ruining it for us all." He said simply, pushing his beer bottle away, even though it was empty anyways.
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