Krash

Mobile Suit Roh Gundam

I'd throw my hat in but I'm not too familiar with post Zeta as I haven't finished Zeta. I feel that Gundam RP is difficult as there's always the balance between power trips and storytelling. Especially the later iterations.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

Yeah I've spaced the last week, I own that. This weekend is gonna be busy so there won't be a response then, maybe Monday if I can swing it.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

Big move!

Up/Downside is now we get to make 2 posts as a time as we wrap up current stuff and flashbacks. Textburgs for days.

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

@Krash

Haha nice. I have a realistic FC for a few of the characters I have in mind (still havent made a decision yet), but I also do enjoy drawing them myself

@False Prophet

Not a problem. If you have questions that you want answered I'm happy to discuss it with you but I also encourage you to just run with it.

@Smike
No worries man I get it and again, this is going to be a slow story even though I religiously haunt it lol

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

One more time, no worries if you're not interested but wanted to ping it out there.
@GingerBoi123@BangoSkank@Squashedquatch@False Prophet@Gisk@TheNoCoKid

Edit made to character app, I realize it's pretty hard to rock realistic photo when a person is chromed up so I'll drop that for now.

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

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_{DAY 1 《》 STEELWATER [PRS] 《》 Afternoon 《》 @Krash}

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Errikos moved through the halls with intentionally quiet steps, as he usually did. He was on edge this time as he saw the situation in the medical wing had been secured and, nothing else stood out on the cameras but when he was in his body, he couldn’t watch everything like normal. His body felt just a touch out of synch with his movements, as if there was a visual lag, a tear in the screen between mismatched refresh rates. It happened when he spent a long time out of his body as his presence… his soul, his ghost got used to being in a body again. The sinister red glow of the halls punctuated with bright yellow flashes made the walk all the more ominous as the red light didn’t illuminate as well. As he neared the medical wing he could hear Featherswallow talking, just at the end to hear her talk about grabbing Bahamut alive to focus on a cure, his face betrayed no emotion on the matter as he entered the room. He noted Garuda’s response, her state was heightened, clearly not as detached from the situation as the scientist was understandably. He noted the flyboys response and nodded in understanding with the idea of possibly needing to kill the renegade Aeon. He walked through the door and posted on the wall besides it, listening to the conversation break down. Then the royalty spoke. His eyes darted towards her as she shared the story of Hellon Fort and, more specifically Junon port. The ships she mentioned. Pursed lips under an arched eyebrow showed his response. His eyes flickered an electronic yellow as he passively entered the surveillance system in the room. Virus didn’t have to fully exit his body to do that much but the idea of essentially splitting himself was never one he was particularly fond of. His body stayed propped against the wall, and he observed the conversation, paying particular focus to when the fungi expert began speaking. It seemed almost too fitting that she was here, somewhere in the digital aether, Virus smiled at the choice to task her with this group for Bahamut. It was appropriate. However, considering her description of fungi spores and the possibility of an airborne infection, Virus snapped a majority of attention back to Errikos who promptly took a moment to put his filtered helmet back on before snapping back into the system. It wasn’t uncommon to wear some form of filtration in operational areas due to the stigma infection and an individual’s varying paranoia on how honest/competent the UDF were in researching it. Errikos purposely chose the full enclosure as it brought a heads-up display with it. That HUD didn’t really matter a lot to him, but it allowed Virus to use the helmet as a springboard to jump into connected tech more easily. It had the mild benefit of slightly masking when his eyes lit up. Through the earpiece comms Virus simply commented: “If it’s airborne, we’d be smart to make sure filtration is solid.”

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Post Summary

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Errikos spent a long time observing. This whole post is kinda fluff. Errikos had a physical response when Scylla mentioned Hellon Ford and Junon.

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L O R E

N/A

ᵀʰᵉ Spirits Within/Aeon

That moment when you wrote three paragraphs of observing other's dialogue but don't have any dialogue for your own character XD

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

@Smike
Looked over it this morning before work and love the creativity adding in new ideas. I'll roll them into the world lore and it may have an impact on the area and your character going forward ;)

@Senhara
Holy crap that's quite a lot to deal with I'm sorry and completely get that. If you decide to step back for now and/or step into the story later that's fine, I get it you have stuff to handle.

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

@Smike
No worries :) Good base so far, I look forward to seeing the final product.

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

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_{GM — Relief overall — Current — [Tags Here]}

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Afternoon was slowly giving way to dusk in Houston. The orange glow brought by sunlight diffused in sandstorms surrendering slowly to the pressure off the coast as normally happened. Eventually the sands would stop, and the clouds would gather over from another subdued hurricane, and it would shower the city, washing away what dust made it in. Meanwhile, countless tankers gathered out in the harbor ready to unload cargo from around the world. Most of it was legal sure but there were ample containers that arrived with porters being killed or paid to look away.

Amongst the endless structures and roadways, a single parking lot stood out in a curious way. It held no police towers, no dedicated city surveillance, and no road of its own. No official map chronicled its existence, but countless denizens considered it home and countless more made a pilgrimage to it weekly if not daily. Its collection of stalls ranging from shabby rusted countertops with propane stoves and laminated tarpaulin covers over wire lights to higher end armored vans all illegally hotjacked into the city grid with smells of every single kind wafting through the late afternoon air. The cooking never really stopped but the dinner rush was coming and everything was being prepared from halal to synth beef and countless more synthetic versions of exotic animals, some long since extinct.

Along the perimeter of the parking lot, there was the Concent, the old Convention center renovated in a very stretched definition of the word and split into even more stalls. While there wasn’t an official zoning policy, the food stalls tended to be outside where the smoke could dissipate while the interior was reserved for eating and hardware. Didn’t matter if it was Computer, vintage, or chrome, all the stalls inside coagulated together. There was a medical wing as well mostly for punks wanting to chrome up or pawn their chrome to cover some debt, and in one of the wings facing the parking lot itself was Huge Tree. Daniel Nuyear’s mayoral office in the form of a noodle shop, the only restaurant in Concent.

Nuyear moved with a lazy strut befitting a model. His white thigh length coat flickered with holographic fish masking a rather nondescript black tee shirt. His designer shoes thudded against the light grey plasma floors cut to look like marble. This was his kingdom. He glanced at the chefs working behind five-inch thick duraglass. They smiled briefly with a nod of the head but otherwise kept working, folding dumpling skin or draining noodles. He moved past the open eating area with synthwood tables and the long aluminum countertop for solo patrons that faced the chefs. Nuyear’s eyes drifted towards the booths that made up the other half of the restaurant. They were designed with privacy in mind and had shoulder high walls of white plasment cut into small squares to look like tile encasing them. The walls served as a digital buffer preventing eavesdropping for those wanting a personal touch. At the entrance of each booth two strip lights glistened in the plasment walls and he noted that one booth was occupied. Something interesting must have been happening as he noted the red color shining on the wall lights indicating it was occupied.

He regarded the two merc statues guarding the titanium double doors referred to as the Gates of Hell as he left. The statues moved ever so slightly at his glance, acknowledging their boss before resuming their routine observing the crowd while the holographic red curtain over the Gates flickered behind them. He was comfortable knowing they were the first line of defense into the underworld and all the many things he safeguarded. Like Dante’s experience there were many layers to Huge Tree and this was merely the first stop. An entertaining preview with holographic fish swimming overhead much like those on Nuyear’s own coat.

With a final movement he went upstairs to his own private quarters which held a balcony over Relief and took in his private kingdom. The orange haze was evacuating and already the clouds were beginning to gather overhead. He wondered what would be nourished or washed away by the rains tonight.

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S u m m a r y
Our story opens in Relief, dusk is falling over the city and the vendors are getting ready for the lunch rush. The orange haze of dust storms are receding and the rain is getting ready to fall any minute. Daniel Nuyear takes note of his micro-ecosystem

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L o r e
Plasment - a more durable version of cement used in more sensitive environments. Cement is still quite commonly used with the abundance of sand

Synth *** - self explanatory, vat grown variants of living things, common with animals as populations dwindle and burn out leaving genuine animals as luxury items.

Duraglass - a transparent ballistic material, common in banking environments, pleasure clubs, and virtually anywhere where something can be seen but not touched.

Johnny Nuyear - the proprietor of Huge Tree, a Taiwanese national with more rumors than truth surrounding him. It's commonly believed he was a victim of human trafficking at one point.

Gates of Hell - wonderful and horrific things wait behind them. That's where the real experience of Relief begins, every wannabe punk dreams of a shot of getting behind those doors.