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    1. Horrid 10 yrs ago

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9 yrs ago
Current Krism.
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10 yrs ago
Got a bottle of Brotherman Bill's chill pills.

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Most Recent Posts

Name: Osmund Steele

Appearance: A monster of a man, standing at nearly 7' tall with shoulders wide enough to make some doors hard for him to fit through, Osmund looks like he would be more at home behind a forge or on a hunting boat with his brown skin the colour of beaten bronze. Build like a brickhouse, shoulders like boulders and a chest like a barrel, he looks built for wrestling with Tetsucabra and Barroth. His kind eyes are a dull blue, leaning more towards grey and his nose has a hump to it, looking slightly broken and twisted. His hair is shaven into a short, frayed mohawk. He has the drooping, pointed ears and chiselled facial features characteristic of those from his family and families like it, Smithies. He tries to stay clean-shaven, but often can be seen wearing a five-o'clock shadow or rugged stubble.

Race: Same as 'The Man'.

Age: 25

Sex: Male.

Rank: High Rank.

Weapons/Armor: Axelion Blade (Charge Blade), Nitro Boost Hammer (Hammer) and the Diablos Armor Set.

Palicoes: None.

Personality: Osmund is not the smartest. He isn't exactly dumb, but he's no genius. Quiet and stoic, he speaks when speaking is needed and when he feels that his words will matter, but rarely speaks otherwise. He is kind, he is fond of smiling and is not above engaging in a hearty laugh. Most of the time he is just one to have fun, not overly concerned with getting bogged down by his problems or worries. Easy-going is a very good descriptor of his usual personality.

When in battle, he is a silent giant swinging his weapon with enough force to put down even the toughest of monsters... eventually. A tranquil storm upon the field, his temper can sometimes get the best of him, leading him to launch into a berserk rage. Normally he takes care to mind his teammates when swinging his weapon about, but when he's mad he relinquishes some of this composure and control. This anger switch seems to become more sensitive depending on how large the monster in question is.

History: Osmund comes from a family of craftsmen. He's the youngest of 5 children, but also the biggest. His lifelong ambition was to take to the field and hunt for his own materials with which to forge his hunting equipment. He didn't plan too much further than that. As said before, he isn't so bright. When he got into the hunting life he just sort of, stuck there after taking a shine to it. It put food on the table, money in his pocket and prestige in his name. Eventually he abandoned smithing and such altogether, becoming a full-time hunter. His family is saddened at his leaving of the family business, but pleased that he has found his place in the world and something that he is good at. Hunting has become who he is to such a great extent that he has nearly forgotten his past trade, but he seems to know most of the craftsmen around rather well.

Other:
Theme-songs: Normally and then Angry.
How's this?


Name: Osmund Steele

Appearance: A monster of a man, standing at nearly 7' tall with shoulders wide enough to make some doors hard for him to fit through, Osmund looks like he would be more at home behind a forge or on a hunting boat with his brown skin the colour of beaten bronze. Build like a brickhouse, shoulders like boulders and a chest like a barrel, he looks built for wrestling with Tetsucabra and Barroth. His kind eyes are a dull blue, leaning more towards grey and his nose has a hump to it, looking slightly broken and twisted. His hair is shaven into a short, frayed mohawk.

Age: 25

Sex: Male

Rank: High Rank.

Weapons/Armor: Axelion Blade (Charge Blade), Nitro Boost Hammer (Hammer) and the High Rank Velociprey Armor Set.

Palicoes: None.

Personality: Osmund is not the smartest. He isn't exactly dumb, but he's no genius. Quiet and stoic, he speaks when speaking is needed and when he feels that his words will matter, but rarely speaks otherwise. He is kind, he is fond of smiling and is not above engaging in a hearty laugh. Most of the time he is just one to have fun, not overly concerned with getting bogged down by his problems or worries. Easy-going is a very good descriptor of his usual personality.

When in battle, he is a silent giant swinging his weapon with enough force to put down even the toughest of monsters... eventually. A tranquil storm upon the field, his temper can sometimes get the best of him, leading him to launch into a berserk rage. Normally he takes care to mind his teammates when swinging his weapon about, but when he's mad he relinquishes some of this composure and control. This anger switch seems to become more sensitive depending on how large the monster in question is.

History: Osmund comes from a family of craftsmen. He's the youngest of 5 children, but also the biggest. His lifelong ambition was to take to the field and hunt for his own materials with which to forge his hunting equipment. He didn't plan too much further than that. As said before, he isn't so bright. When he got into the hunting life he just sort of, stuck there after taking a shine to it. It put food on the table, money in his pocket and prestige in his name. Eventually he abandoned smithing and such altogether, becoming a full-time hunter. His family is saddened at his leaving of the family business, but pleased that he has found his place in the world and something that he is good at. Hunting has become who he is to such a great extent that he has nearly forgotten his past trade, but he seems to know most of the craftsmen around rather well.

Other:
Theme-songs: Normally and then Angry.
I'm making a dude as well. He's Zangief levels of big.
>Dalamadur + Alatreon beatdown quest
Please, my weak soul can only take so much punishment.
Sure why not. I love me some MonHan.
Tyler & Ursula



@Stairdweller

Tyler jumped at the sudden activity and the sound of speech. Backup arrived quicker than he had thought. He turned with his head hung low, hood shadowing his face. "Never quite... noticed it, myself." His words were drawn out and harsh as they came through his jagged, toothy mouth. He twitched in the jowls as he refrained from making note on his lack of olfactory instruments. The fluid bubbling and pulsing beneath his skin was beginning to intensify slowly. Where had he seen this girl's face before? Just a few minutes ago, wasn't it? Yes, this was the woman who tried to make small talk when he was having his meal earlier, his new partner. He spoke with the tone of a struggling, car engine, "Ahhh, Nora is it? Yes... I remember you. I'm... Tyler. You caught me... with a full plate... so to speak." A gurgling chuckle. A disgusting noise.

A sound of slithering along the catwalk made Tyler turn once more and shudder slightly, those things, the searchlight beasts, they were still patrolling the catwalks in search of more things to turn into fine dust. He raised a four-digit hand and made a 'get down' gesture. "We'll have... more time for talking... later. For now, we have to... get around... these... things." He thumbed out over to the catwalk where the roving lights could be seen within the darkness. "From what I've seen... we'll want to stay out of the light." He rasped before stepping out onto the catwalk slowly, his flat-toed mechanical food slowly coming down with a whir. One foot after the other he walked, slowly advancing in search of an exit. Periodically some luminous green liquid would seep from his hands, hitting the floor below and sizzling there, sending up a small wisp of smoke.

With an exasperated groan, he crouches a few meters from an intersection in the walkways and curses under his strained breath. "I can't see... a damn thing. Goddamn... caution lights just don't... exist here." His breathing was heavy as his milky-white eyes strained against the shadow. "Not a damn... thing like a torch or a... flashlight." He pats down his tattered rags and sighs in despair, a labored sound of struggle. How the hell would they get through here if it might all be one big empty space?



@SepticGentleman
@GingerBoi123

Ursula nodded before Elias was cut off. She knocked on her own skull, her opalescent skin shattering and reforming with the shockwaves of each impact of her knuckles. "Hello? You still there, Mr. Elias? You going through a tunnel or something, what is the deal?" She heard mention of Malcolm, thankfully a familiar name. With a look around the workshop she nodded. "Okay so I'll just head over to him then. Where is he?" The background noises were cluing her in somewhat. Asses being kicked, going back in, weapons. She could only assume that someone had been served a heaping helping of pain once more. The mention of the Foreman made her tilt her head. "So he's coming here now? Got an appointment with the nutty professor here?"

She spared a look over to the Foreman and found him to be staring back at her, waving his arms angrily and warbling in his strange, alien tongue. Ursula could not help but giggle. What a funny little Denizen he was. Speaking of little, she forgot that her height was so different in her REM form. After being in her Nexus form, the difference was even more apparent. She shook with excitement at the prospect of getting back out there into the action. Though she may have been aversive to violence, the adrenaline rush of running around and pursuit was hard to ignore. The chase being its own reward, as they said. Ursula felt her eyes once again being drawn back to the blueprints that lay scattered about the workshop. Weapons, she overheard, but these kinds of weapons, she did not expect. Axes and swords, yes. But lasers and drills and cannons? What was this Foreman thinking?

Something she would need to find out. She turned, taking a long-legged step over to the Denizen and tapping him on the shoulder before pointing to the blueprints. "So, what is it that you have planned for these?"
Tyler & Ursula



@Stairdweller

Tyler found himself staring a bit too hard at the Nexus Projectors and REM Lounge from where he was. The remains of the burger gurgled in his belly as he looked over at the many other Zoners filtering in and out, to and fro. Like a tide of red, black and white, constantly ebbing and flowing. His ruminations broke when a young woman sat across from him and spoke without proem, asking him about his plans to enter a Zone today. He cocked an eyebrow, gruff voice grumbling, "Want to form a gang, huh? Numbers might help in the pipes, so I don't see the harm."

He scratched at the significant stubble at his chin and nodded, "Yeah alright. Let's go now. No use in waiting on the sleep to find us, right." With a gravelly chuckle, he made his way over to a service drone and rapped a knuckle on its back. "Hey, 'scuse me tincan. How do I get to this 'Zone'?" The drone turned and scanned him, judging by its sweeping head movement. It took a moment before it turned again and began walking, mechanical voicebox emitting, "I will escort you to the Nexus Projector. Please follow me."

It was a short trip, but soon Tyler found himself slowly drifting into a sound sleep as he lay upon a metal death-trap of a chair. Before his eyes closed he saw the girl from earlier entering the area behind him. He guessed they'd meet up within, and with that he fell out of his body and back in.

And then he fell down, hard. It took a while for him to find his bearings and actually move from the freaky pyramid room into the Zone itself, but as soon as that stagnant air and metallic scent hit him, he felt at ease. His form was different from what he was used to, as he looked down at his hands and found boil-ridden, malformed digits taking theplace of his normal limbs. His steps felt sluggish, and now and then he shrieked as he moved. He felt like pus-bubble with the bottom half of a metal goat, as he felt fluid sloshing back and forth upon his arms and chest. He pulled up the hood of his ragged clothing and looked around.

Walking in anything but a hunch was uncomfortable, and as he loped around he saw that he was in a room full of powerless machinery, exiting into a large hallway. Forward and onward he moved through the hallway in a half-limp, half-hop. The hallway abruptly ended and came to a catwalk suspended over what seemed to be an unending darkness below. There was next to no light upon the catwalks, but in the shadow he could see a silhouette. He drew back, best to stay out of sight. As it stumbled forward, he knew it had seen him. He knew an Abomination when he saw one and he would have had a fight on his hands with this one.

Had it not been suddenly bathed in light. Tyler's eyes trailed down to the source of the searchlight and found that below the catwalks was a single tendril supporting a light. The Abomination looked down, and then back up at him as the beam of light narrowed and became more focused. The thing reeled in pain before it burst into flames and detonated, like a soup can in a microwave.

The searchlight continued on, roving past Tyler's form hidden in the doorway. He could see in the distance that additional searchlights were now beginning to flicker and sweep up from the inky blackness of the abyss below.

"Maybe I should wait for backup..." He said quietly, voice sounding like a gurgling, dying iron lung.



@SepticGentleman
"So what is this place supposed to be?" Ursula said as she wandered into the Foreman's workshop, retracing her steps from she entered the world when she 'woke up' the newly opened workshop, her curiosity getting the better of her. Blueprints and broadsheets and tools, oh my. She traced a finger over a rather intricate drawing of what looked to be a raygun, small motes of dust swirling around her form from the shop floor.

She looks more official and serious that before. Gone are the flowing strips of cloth from before, replaced by trappings of shiny grey leather and soft brown. Her skin looks crazy smooth and is almost like the color of gold, with hair that falls to her waist in a waterfall of molten silver. What a weird lookin' dame. Weirdest of all, two growths of rock seem to just jut from her shoulderblades like miniature cliffs upon her back.

Out the corner of her eye, she spotted another Zoner leaning by the wall, and she paused. It took her a moment to manage a wave, as she was swiftly intercepted by a Denizen in peculiar garb. Waving his arms and jabbering at her before nudging her over to the side as he looked at the blueprints with a curious, almost pigeon-like movement of the head and neck. He returned to his work in short order.

She could only shrug as she watched, utterly intrigued by all the blueprints and diagrams. The axe and the rifle, the sword and the drill. All so intricate and involved, all flying so far above her head in terms of construction and operation. Were these for an army? For the Denizens to fight back? She felt herself remembering the murals where she fought the Aggressors alongside Malcolm and Nora. Some sort of warring factions, trying to even the odds now that they have taken back this workshop? All questions she would need answers for. And only one person to go to. With a thought, she attempted to contact Elias. "Hey, uh, Mr. Elias sir... that big picture we saw before, when we interrupted the fireflies little initiation slash dinner. What was that all about and how do I get back there from here?"
Tyler Franklin Sawyer



The shriek of mechanical parts failing, the sizzle and pop of dissolving soft matter. The sound of a whirring contraption winding down and a bellows ceasing to pump air. In his sleep, Tyler's face twisted and contorted as he subconsciously heard the sound of animalistic feeding, like a pig to slop. Drool dribbled from one of the corners of his mouth and onto the pillow below his head as he almost growled in his restless sleep. His muscles tensed and strained as he struggled in vain, before gasping into a waking cold sweat.

"Hey." Came a voice from the speaker hung up near the television. "You awake?"

Tyler shook his head and heard the jingling of metal reply. His wrists had a familiar chafe to them. A pressure. Cuffs. He sat up and looked around the room but found no personable origin for the voice, he replied regardless. "More or less. Where the hell am I?"

"Good question, isn't it?" The voice replied, "You'll get filled in a little later. For right now though, I need to hear some things from you."

Tyler pulled slightly at the restraints with a grunt before letting his arms flop back down into his lap. He let out a sigh, heavy and annoyed, before speaking. "Well, you must be the warden of this place, so what do you want to know? If it ain't already on my file, that is."

"Warden. Good one." The voice said, "My name is Elias. And I am in charge of things here, but it's not a prison. However, some of the folks the agents bring in are noted criminals. So I have to take precautions. First things first - can you confirm you've been having some strange dreams lately?"

"Name's Tyler, Elias. Excuse my manner, but this sure seems a lot like a prison... A fancy one maybe, but a prison. And sure, if you call crawlin' up the walls and munchin' on machine nasties strange then yeah, my dreams have been a step away from... average fare."

"That's what we're looking for. But like I said, I'll elaborate later - for right now, I'm gonna make you an offer. I work with an organization that can make a lot of different things happen without a lot of people knowing about them. I know you probably weren't enjoying your sentence, either. So here's the thing - I have a job for you. And a lot of other people. But I wanna know beforehand if you're gonna cooperate."

Tyler sucks on his teeth for a moment, thinking quickly. "You ain't wrong. But cooperation depends on how lucrative the offer is. We talkin' a clean slate here?"

"Cleanest slate there is. New name, new papers, new home even. We can set you up however you like. If you behave yourself. And if you do your job well."

"And if I have family? The offer extend to them?" He looks down at himself and picks slightly at his nails.

"We can arrange something for all of you."

He takes a deep breath before replying. "What wouldja need me to do?"

"Once again - I'll explain later. For now, just give me your word you'll cooperate, and the service bot outside will come in and uncuff you."

With a breath through his teeth, Tyler nods slightly. "Yeah... Yeah alright. I'll act the sensible boy scout as well as I can, for now."

"Good man."



The next day...


The soft, steaming burger almost swallowed Tyler's fingers as he dug into his first major meal of the day. The bun was so soft and the lettuce so crisp. So much better than food in the pen. This joint wasn't SO bad, considering the food and the treatment he had been receiving. They even took the cuffs off of his wrists, on account of his stellar behavior. How could he even commit a crime anyway, when he was stunned by such a delectable piece of food? They had even given him new digs to wear around the complex they had placed him in. A nice clean jumpsuit, black with a big red 3 on the arm. Much better than the muck-ridden mess he was wearing from the pen. He looked around at the other 'Zoners' present around him, all eating and conversing. If he was pleased with his current situation, his heavy brow and morose expression betrayed nothing of the sort.

Tyler took another bite of his burger and chewed slow to savor the flavor. What did he have to worry about, after all? With the service drones watching over him like a pack of hungry wolves, and the scrap of metal cafeteria seat tucked away beneath the folded seams of his jumpsuit's pant leg, he felt pretty safe for being cooped up yet again. Maybe he wouldn't even need to pack up shop and run. Maybe this deal was on the up and up, seemed pretty good so far with the food and the limited freedom. He scratched at his chest as he weighed the options and felt a flat, firm shape within his breast pocket. Tyler paused for a moment before fishing out the object to examine it. It was a picture. Big enough to fit in his wallet. A picture of a little girl, a cheerful looking thing with a face painted in the likeness of a cat. Sabrina. She looked too cute, too innocent to be of any relation to the severe, emotionless mess of a man that sat grimacing at her picture.

He managed to crack a minute smile as he said, "Don't worry kitten. Daddy'll be back home before you know it."

Depositing the picture back in his pocket, Tyler quickly finished his burger and left the tray upon the table before reporting to the area that held the Nexus Projectors. Just like he was briefed earlier, before he was released. Strange contraptions they had here, he couldn't help but think as he stood off to the side, away from the traffic of the other Zoners. He was content to look around for now, dipping his toe into the water before plunging his head in.
Y'all need a little bit of this:
Ursula Elwyn

@GingerBoi123
@Stairdweller


Downtrodden and worn out, Ursula's only thought now was on getting into that cold steel torture rack of a bed and waiting for the sweet release of sleep. She ambled away from Eli, lump rising within her throat as she distanced herself from the Nexus Projectors and the cafeteria. She nudged past some of the other Zoners, all looking as tired and beaten down as she was. Weakly, she spared a wave at those that she woke up with, Malcolm and Nora. She could talk with them a bit later, for now all she would be able to do is babble. They were occupied enough as it is, socializing with the others, Ursula would more than have her chance later if Eli's statement was to be believed.

On the subject of her room, Ursula could recall only following the green line upon the floor. A green line which, when looked at in reverse, seemed like it would branch out to all the other rooms. A nudge of her palm adjusted her glasses, the cracked mosaic lenses now helping her to search for a sign or a map. Maybe they had some sort of directory around here. "Big ol' government complex, and they can't even have some kind of information kiosk. Maybe some of those little fold-out map-pamphlets." Ursula let out a sighing laugh. Maybe she spoke a bit too loud, as the whirring of rotors dopplered over to stop behind her. A quick turn on her heel revealed the glowering faceplate of a service drone. Its visor flashed as it identified her uniform and lifted its head. Its faceplate betrayed no emotion as it spoke, "I am Service Drone #54, your robotic assistance unit within the complex."

Ursula flared her nostrils as she exhaled sharply. The damn bots can sneak now. Wonderful. She spoke in a stammer, "Uh, hi... #54. I'm Ursula?" More a question than a statement, as if she were just as unsure as this android before her. She cautiously extended her hand in greeting, but the drone had a sudden interjection. "I heard a sound of distress. What seems to be the problem. Ursula." The tones and inflections were unnervingly artificial, unusually cheerful. Her name sounded like it was tacked on to the sentence like a tail to a paper donkey. She adjusted her glasses, pushing on the bridge of her nose. "I uh... how do I get back to my room?"

The drone immediately turned and advanced down the cold, green-lined corridor. "Please follow me to your private quarters." It said, voice fading with the distance it was quickly covering. Ursula had to jump into a power-walk to keep up. It was a short trip, some stairs and more than a few corners before they reached the slightly familiar room. The drone stood next to the door as it scanned her and opened accordingly, beeping in the affirmative. "You have reached your destination." The drone chirped, before nodding and leaving in just as much a rush as it came. Ursula was left slightly out of breath and puzzled as she shuffled into her room, the door shutting tight behind her. Quick movements and flicks of her limbs got her uniform off quick enough, permeated with sweat as they were. She left them where they fell upon the floor, no time for folding and organizing when you're about to collapse. The cold steel torture rack parallel was true even now, as her bare skin touched both the steel beneath the minuscule mattress and the itchy sheets above her. She didn't even bother taking her glasses off as she slipped into a coma-like slumber.

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