Avatar of KremeSupreme

Status

User has no status, yet

Bio

User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts


Zun - Zamidawar International Airport



Ivory? Rich? Please. If only Horizon actually paid her.

"Honestly this dress is probably the most expensive thing I own. I'm not much of a rainmaker. I actually came here with Special Permission."

Ivory flashed the girl her pass, which had her picture, her name Ivory Navella, and occupation, listed as "researcher".

"I'm here from Horizon Frontiers. Originally I was sent to collect data by watching the fight. Or at least I was supposed to. Now that the tournament's cancelled I'm stranded here until my boss can figure out how to make the trip worth it." Ivory explained in a hush. While that seemed like controversial information to flat out expose, there were actually several barriers to it. First off, Horizon Frontiers was no unusual group to be at a fighting tournament. Their (at least surface) goal to observe biology and cybernetics made displays of human skill a must, and often Nomadic abilities required first-hand view to study indently. The same went for cybernetically powered Nomads, which were often a common appearance, especially at the World Warriors Tournament.
Plus, by technicality Ivory was an employee at Horizon Frontiers' surface. Though her usual job included detaining and kidnapping Nomads for experimentation and production of Symbiotes, any official records would just read "intern".

"Honestly most of the actual World Warriors Tournament being a blowout was a yearly disappointment. Now it's not happening at all."





Zun Docks




"Thank you!" Calvin thanked the corn dog stand guy. It might've been the last of his 5 bucks, but it was a worthy sacrifice. Plus it was crumb to the fortune he spent getting here, to Zun, the capital in Nomad Culture.

It might've been a real stretch to get here with only 200 dollars; taking a ramshackle plane, riding a leaky ship, even stowing away on a train. All without any food! Well, good food anyway. But it was the perfect place to perfect his grandfather's style, and the perfect time. With the coming of the World Warrior Tournament this Nomad Haven would become a Nomad Hive. Even outside of the tournament there'd be Nomad enthusiasts coming to celebrate, probably looking to fight other people coming to fight. Probably like seeing kids at Fifa playing soccer with each other. Same energy.

Anticipating that, Calvin made every expense to travel straight to the country of Zun by the time the World Warrior Tournament rolled around. It took the little money he had, and a fair bit of danger, but now he was here and goddamn it the Tournament was cancelled?!

Calvin saw it on a display television. All of them. Even ones on different channels. All over the news, local or international, the World Warriors Tournament was cancelled, and Calvin just wasted all his money for nothing. Well... At least he had a corn dog, still.

Or at least he did. As he sulked off into the streets, he just narrowly noticed a speeding bike heading straight towards him. It had a demonic design to it, and showed no sign of veering out of the way or slowing down. The Canadian Walrus-Puncher only had several seconds to mentally yank himself back onto the sidewalk, causing him to bump into a pole and drop his corn dog. He looked on more in horror to his fatal mistake than he did at nearly being run over by a psycho on a bike. For a moment or so.

Calvin turned back to the biker, calling "Hey! Watch where you're going you psycho!" while shaking his gloved fist.

Zun



Ivory stood in the crowd even as it began to disperse, trying her best to just blend in and avoid attention. That was until she heard another woman yawn, "cancelling it, just like that? So much for a true test of skill and fighting spirit. I guess this whole 'World Warriors' thing isn't such a big deal after all...", to nobody in particular.

Now in most cases, Ivory would've just brushed that off with the other complaints and faint discussions the other gathered Nomads engaged in. But what caught here interest was the woman's arms. Or rather, lack of arms? Rather than regular human arms, they were made of metal. Cybernetic. Giving them a quick scan, Ivory deduced that they certainly weren't of any make she ever saw before or had been registered by Horizon Frontiers Database. This made her a very clear anomaly. Though Ivory had just agreed seconds ago to lay low while HQ worked out what to do, that only applied to the list of candidates she was supposed to hunt down before the tournament went south. This woman, on the other hand, was unexpected, and at least deserved observation.

Besides, nothing wrong with working a little overtime, right?

Ivory crept her way to the cyber-armed girl, taking a few brief steps to reach her.

"Honestly the tournament is a bit of a sham. Most of the Nomads gathered here are either rich or famous enough to warrant an invitation. Actual strength or competence of Nomads comes third." She explained, looking at Anna with her ambergreen eyes, "Chances are anyone who actually looks like a decent fighter here is either putting on a show or just came to watch."

Ivory's shilling personally didn't actually reflect her beliefs, the World Warrior Tournament was a prime event for observations and picking new targets to hunt down. Unlike most other fields, if a Nomad was rich or famous enough it could be due to them being a strong fighter to begin with. However she did her best to get close to the cyber-armed woman, just pave the way until she could work the conversation towards her robotic arms.

Zun


Amongst the small sea of groans, shouts, and even overtly threatening displays of Ki, Ivory only had a look of annoyance and spite on her hawk-like face. She silently excused herself from the small rabble of disgruntled Nomads & fighting enthusiasts, slowly backing out from the group, which she already stood towards the back of. Once she made certain that she drew no attention to herself, she turned around and left. To even the faintest awareness that she was caught in, she'd probably just look like some diva who pouted off in disappointment. But once she was alone, she rounded the corner into the empty hallway. Making sure nobody around was listening, she pulled her watch close to her face, checking warily that she wasn't being listened into. Yet even then she only mumbled, cautious to every noise she made. Even airport security looked straight over her, assuming her some foreigner tinkering with a broken watch.

"This is Ivory. Change of plans, the Tournament is cancelled. It's already been announced? I see. It'd be foolish to assume it wouldn't already be a world-wide controversy by now." Ivory communicated with the watch, which only let back a series of high beeps and low boops, which Ivory memorized the chart to translate properly in her head.

"In either case, the plan we've worked so hard on is completely out the window, right? Perfect." Ivory sighed to herself, before the watch continued it's beeping. "New Plan? Alright, I'll await further instructions depending on how the situation unfolds. Until then I'll just try to blend in. Roger that."

The watch let out a third sound, a high pitched zip noise. Ivory couldn't help but smile to herself at that.

Just as unhumoring as she left, Ivory strolled back to the crowd silently. For all they knew she just went to use the lady's room. But by then, the WMAF representative ran off in terror at the crowd of the brawlers unrest, going as far as to shove over an innocent news lady--
May Armstrong, Ivory recognized.

So for all intents and purposes compared to the other Nomads, Ivory's actual reaction to the cancellation of the tournament was just her pouting with an annoyed expression.






Zun



Rod tried to maintain an ironclad expression to the same news that angered the rest of the crowd of Nomads and wannabe fighters, but any untrained eye could see the frustration and disappointment that boiled beneath his sunglasses. He tried lighting a cigar hoping it would make him look less 'scowly', but all the thirty second drag do was make him look really pissed, especially when he wheezed the smoke back out of his mouth through grit teeth.

Internally, though? Fuck all of this, he thought. He flew all the way out here with actual reason to, unlike the crowd of wannabes that he was forced to fly in with that hadn't actually been invited to the tournament, just to be told "Sorry. That big tournament you spent weeks getting ready for while making merchandise and promo-material isn't actually real. We just wanted to waste your time and money, and because time is money we're really just wasting more money and kicking you right in the nuts. Have fun in a country that You didn't even read about until this morning!~"

But, as he came to understand, not everything had to go to plan. There were still plenty of ways to make a quick buck and make yourself look good doing it. He'd give this place one day to make it worth his time. That's as much time any place needs to make a good impression.











Here's another one of my characters, in a way that they are almost nothing like what they previously were.


Here's Calvin 1.5, my other chary's will come soon.






Minutes ago, the field was lush and green, almost a tribute to nature's.

Now it was host to more blades of steel than blades of grass.

Ajen lay on the dead earth, his shoulder penetrated by such a spear, binding him to the ground. Overshadowing him was a glowing beacon of a man, surrounded by a divine mandala of solar light that overshadowed the one Ajen tried to create in just presence alone.

"The battle is over" Ketz said coldly, "It was over the second you challenged me again, and it was over the second you challenged me the first time. It's not even a yearly occasion that I extend mercy to a challenger twice. My part in this fight is now beyond your ken. Your battle is with the reaper, now, boy."

He began to turn around, his form transitioning from divine power to mortal fleh, giving reprieve of blinding light to the challenger. But Ajen would have none of that.

"I'll atleast extend notice to the village. If you don't move you may have enough energy to sur--" Ketz felt something hit the back of his neck. Something wet, yet warm. Spit.

He turned around. Despite being impaled through the shoulder with a spear, stabbed six times in his abdomen, as well as whatever other countless bruises and scrapes Ketz inflicted on him, Ajen only had a shit eating grin, which quickly turned into a scowl. Wielding his spear with one hand, it's tip glew, until it fired a single projectile at Ketz, whiffing him entirely.

Honestly, Ketz thought, the only thing remotely challenging about that whelp was his own arrogance.

"You just wasted what could have been the last of your Aether, boy. How about for once in your life you don't embarass--"

Ajen spat again, this time hitting Ketz right in the cheek. The Solar Avatar closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He pointed a single finger out towards his dying opponent. In the distance, the sun seemed to "hiccup" for a brief moment, before a ray of pure solar energy shot from it, and flew straight down to Ajen's position, obliterating his entire being, his entire physical form being burned to nothingness.

When the attack ended, all that was present of the challenger was nothing but horridly charred earth. Good, now that the insufferable knave was gone. For good.





Ajen found himself surrounded by blinding light. Not golden, exalted light of the sun, but white and sterile. His vision was too clouded blurred as he lay on the ground. But then, he felt a healing sensation come over him. His wounds were sealed shut, cuts and bruises healed, even his mind was liberated of the shock and disorientation.

By the time he was able to put his feet under his ass, he found himself surrounded by several other men and women, in a massive plain white room. At the front of the crowd stood an incredibly pale woman, who continued speaking whatever speech she was on while Ajen had his brain still tossed around.

"ask any and all questions now before we proceed." Was the only part he made sense of.

"Yeah! I do!" Ajen loudly proclaimed, raising his hand before she even finished her sentence, "Could you explain all that again really quick?"

Spiritverse




The phone rung a full round. Then a second one, and then half of a third one before Alena gave in and answered.

"Yeah? Who is this?" She asked, still half asleep, slapping around her nightstand for her glasses.

"Alena, it's Jeffrey. Have you gotten your hands on the Isca Daila yet?" The phone buzzed.

"Yeah, just last month." The shaman replied to her former mentor. She clenched the phone on her neck as she walked to the nearby dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer-- All the way out, setting it on the ground. She then reached into the hollow space, pulling out a purple tome.

"You're sure it's the real deal? Not a reprint?" Jeffrey asked her.

"Yep, the original." Alena remarked, blowing a cloud of dust from the inside. The pages inside were filled with incomprehensible sigils and ritual circles.

"Alright, that's good. Would you mind if I borrowed it for a few days?"

"Sure," Alena shrugged her free shoulder, "If you can actually read it. I've tried translating it for like a week and I haven't figured out a word."

"That's no problem. We just need the book itself. We'll come pick it up in the morning."

"What's so important about it?" Alena asked, curious.

"It's complicated... You see--"

Just then, Alena disappeared from her empty bedroom in a blue burst of light.

"Alena? Hello?" Jeffrey continued, after the phone hit the ground.





Bright light blinded Alena, prompting her to raise a hand and cover her face. Her eyes soon adjusted, and found herself in a large, white room, standing in a crowd next to a wide gallery of strange characters-- Humans of all races and sizes, Some... Inhuman entities? Some sort of advanced Spirits, probably? Then a pale, almost robotic woman stood at a podium, filling them in on what sounded like a cry for a slap on the back of the head. Multiverse was out of balance, and now they were plucked out to become some super-crime-stopping squad? Eh.

On one hand, the lady, Praxis, the machine introduced herself, made it clear that she wasn't being conscripted, and would be allowed to be sent back home. On the other, assuming this wasn't just a crazy dream, it was a prime opportunity to understand countless other worlds beyond her own. Wonder how much buck that would be worth once she went back home. Either way, Jeffrey knew she had a spare key under the front mat.
Character Numero Dos.

© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet