ML

Seeking 1 x 1 Partners - Open

i thought we had something special

[ML] Rangers of King's Wood [Smiley]

"Fucking Rangers", Ford said under his breath.

He lay in the bushes, alone, muddied, and exhausted. The Trials had started poorly for him, and only gone downhill since. Each fledgling Ranger had been given a bow, a sword, a satchel, and a destination. As far as he'd grasped from his mentor's instructions, Each of the destinations had been assigned to multiple fledglings, but only one could reach the end and pass the trials. In theory, it was simply a race. In practice, several of the fledglings had decided to take out the competition early on, rather than simply win by merit of their own Ranger talents.

But there were no rules against lethal force, and Ford understood the stakes. To be a Ranger, truly and completely, was to be a shadow king. To have jurisdiction as great as the crown when the crown was located far, far away in Telingrad. The brand, the ring, and the spell combined gave one the ability to take command of any locale, provided the corresponding spell had been cast in the the capitol. Ancient, powerful Magic, leftover from the Age of Glory, which proved one's right to command within the nation's borders.

And that was why, despite everything, Ford knew he would continue to hide in the mud, until the threat had passed. Then he would sprint toward Greenpost, pray to the Traveler, and test his fortune against the other fledglings. He peeked out of the bushes, and found the coast to be clear. "Right, then," he said, and pushed himself to his feet. His cloak was ruined, but his body had managed to avoid perforation.

After a moment to steady his breathing, he set off, jogging easily through the brush. This was what he had been trained to do. Dodge the danger. Blend with the surrounds. Not lop off someone's head for being a potential threat to his own glory. He moved faster, more confidently. If he could just--

Suddenly, there was a figure on the ground in front of him. How had he missed it? He slid to a halt and knocked an arrow. He'd hardly noticed drawing the weapon, but that was part of the the training, wasn't it?

"Look," he began. "I'm headed to Greenpost. I'd really rather not skewer you, so...please tell me you are heading somewhere else."

[ML] Rangers of King's Wood [Smiley]

____ D a l s o n _ F o r d ____

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^{i t w a s f u n n y t o m e ...}

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_{H u m a n 2 5 Male 1.7526/5'9}

_{dedicated ♢ loyal ♢ cunning ♢ lax}

_{B i o g r a p h y}

Goes by his surname. Ford was born to a skilled merchant and a fine lady of the Middle Kingdoms. He quickly proved to be adept at neither profession, and spent most of his time running away from his parents and responsibilities. Upon returning home one day, his parents were not where he had left them. In fact, they had left him, moving away without a whisper. The teenage Ford was left without a home, but not without friends. For a few years, he joined a gang in Boldych, whipping up storm of trouble and scampering away before the storm broke. Then he got caught, thought not before giving the city watch one fiend of a chase. A ranger watched the chase, and was struck by the man's fitness, finesse, and impressive dictionary of curses. Putting arrowhead to shaft, from then to now, shouldn't be too challenging.

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^{s u p p o s e y o u h a d t o b e t h e r e}

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Seeking 1 x 1 Partners - Open

how dare u

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

"Enough," Peterson said. "I didn't invite you here to fuck around and--"

Void had a smug little grin on his face, Stardust looked about ready to snipe him through the eyeball, and ET found himself wishing to god that he'd just gotten himself suspended when Captain Ong had come calling. He could have been four shots into his happy place back at Midwest Multibar and Grill, or shooting the shit with Andrew and his wife. Instead, he was playing babysitter to a bunch of people who could kill him as easily as blink at him.

All this for a fucking dick measuring contest between Houdini and a walking plasma storm. ET reached out with a sudden vehemence, and before he knew what was happening, he'd sent an executive order down the nightclub's throat. TONDE collapsed. A sudden failure in the power management system sent sparks sizzling across the dance floor's lights. The music crashed altogether, and every light except the one above their table went out in a crackle and a hiss. The robot-controlled bar spun into a haywire fit, shattering the glass bottles on the countertop. Every tuxedo-clad server drone in the building screeched once, and then dropped, lifeless, to the floor.

"Look," he hissed, and pointedly reached out to Stardust's hand holding the book. He plucked it out of her fingers, and leaned back stiffly. "I don't think we have a fucking choice here. We'll have to try and raid Carolex. But it is three in the god. Damn. Morning. Since nobody seems willing to contribute to the mystery of why we almost died, I'd like to get some sleep." The caffeine in his veins would not make that easy, but he was determined and foolhardy. It'd work.

Peterson's carefully crafted face of neutrality slipped as the chaos unfolded around them. His eyes flicked from ET to Tower to Stardust, then back to ET. The four of them were now quite alone in the room. The man's eyes slid down to a ring on his finger, and he relaxed somewhat, but nodded. "Two doors down the street, there is a hotel that I use. Excellent service. I'll put in a request for you all to get separate rooms. Should be ready by the time you get there. We'll reconvene at A Morning Cup in eighteen hours. Will that be enough?

ET did the math. Nine PM. "Yeah. That'll work." He stood, then paused and glanced at Tower and Stardust. "Look," he said. "This is not ideal. If y'all disappear overnight, I won't blame you. I'm gonna see this through, though. For Addison." And so that Captain Ong doesn't excommunicate me. He left without waiting for them.

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"Captain, what the fuck have you sent me into here?" He folded his hands in front of him and looked down at the smartDesk in his hotel room. Captain Ong's impassive face looked back at him. He'd just finished recounting everything that had happened, including his probable breach of cover in the nightclub. It wasn't like either of them had actually expected him to keep the cover of being non-powered. It would have come out eventually. But still, maybe they wouldn't notice.

ET snorted. Right.

"Turner, your guess is as good as mine." A shiver of emotion flashed across Ong's face, and she brought a hand to her forehead. "A missile? A coverup? Carolex? You know I can't give you a green light for that, right? Not only are you out of your jurisdiction, we put you under an assumed identity. If it gets out that a MCPD officer was going on raids across the country--" she held up a hand as he opened his mouth. "Look, I'm not arguing the importance. This is a secure channel, isn't it?"

ET nodded. One of his many talents: totally secure, end-to-end-encryption that only he could process properly. Ong smiled tightly. "Right. You almost got nuked out of existence, and clearly whatever was in that bunker was worth risking another regional war between corpos. I just can't given you an official go-ahead. Do whatever you can. I'm not ordering you to, and you can come back if you want. I don't think it's worth the risk, but you're already there. Just know that if it goes south, nobody will be able to cover for you. Remember those old Mission Impossible movies?"

"Yeah." They'd been an old precinct favorite.

"That's you now." Ong nodded curtly, then cut the link.

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P R E L U D E T O L A R C E N Y
CURRENT DATE -- 24/05/2047, ~9 PM

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A Morning Cup was, ironically, another nightclub, though it was more accurately a jazzhop-bar. It was infinitely more white-collar than TONDE, being near the industrial complexes populated by infinitely more white-collar employees. Having rested, shaved, eaten, hydrated, and not had any alcohol through sheer muscle force of will...ET liked the place.

He settled down at an outside table, waving away a pretty, young waitress with an easy smile. She actually blushed, and for the first time in days, ET felt almost like a man, instead of a sleep deprived lagoon monster.

Honey, you are always a man. Gabbie's voice was thin, refracted through ice. She and Dave were parked near the Carolex Industrial complex in one of the apartment lots. It was public parking, and they had the cloaking engaged. ET had figured it would be safe enough to keep them there.

He'd been the first to arrive, but he liked being punctual. It was time to get this show on the road.

The Night Shift - Gas Station Horror Simulator (OPEN)

not likely to apply but subscribing for the funsies

@Commander Bork glad to see you're kicking around equally absurd ideas

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

"Jesus Christ." ET muttered. He'd jumped when Void had shown up, but come on: there'd been no one, and then there'd been someone. It was eerie, and spooked his caffeine-fried, sleep-burned synapses.

"Look," he continued, fixing Stardust with a pointed stare. "Don't be killing anyone. For all the bluster and extraneous acting, the shadowman is right. Going in guns blazing is a surefire way to get Carolex, the other big six, and Envoy herself to shred us into atoms. Nobody actually knows what her powers are, or how they work. We're basically planning this fucking heist in the Garden of Eden."

"He's also exaggerating." ET put a hand to his face and shook his head slowly. Caffeine-withdrawal headache. Fucking great. "Most companies and individuals--even the Big Six--don't have paper-mache nukes. What they might have is a Ritual Circle with a tripwire that...turns us into mummies," he said, nodding acknowledgement to Void. "Usually," he stressed, "magic is weird, complicated, almost impossible to get right, and more trouble than it is worth." Not in this case, he supposed. Carolex Experimental would have devoted plenty of funds to magical safeguarding, especially if Void wasn't the only magical-criminal in the area. Statistically, there might be...two or three others?

He was going off of experience in the MC: Magic was a tempting escape for the...challenges of everyday life. In Midwest City, he'd seen plenty of rituals-gone-wrong, or demons-half-summoned, or Wiccan Sex Magic where the unfortunates had been melded at the hips. But he wasn't an expert--ET figured that had been Hex's area of expertise. He paused, then patted down his pockets briefly. Was it still there?

It was. He pulled out the notebook from Addison's body, and flipped it open. "Fuck," he mumbled, as symbols and ancient languages crisscrossed the pages. "So I've got this fucking notebook," he growled, tossing it onto the table. "Judging from it trying to steal my soul, it was from Hex. Might be useful if we're going to have to deal with magic, since Hex was the closest thing to a magical mastermind I've ever heard of."

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

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.// S U P E R S T A T I S T I C S//.

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Just how many people in the world are Super? At a guess, science says 0.04% of the 8 billion humans currently alive. Of those, only a tiny fraction have the truly awe inspiring power levels of Envoy or Fullbright. More common is varying degrees of super strength, hyperintelligence, enhanced senses, etc. There are several categories of enhanced powers.

The first is external, Type 1S. These are science based. Enhanced armor, super serums/drugs, augmentations, etc. These are the most common type of superpower, and explain the large number of supers mentioned above. At a glance, these make up 80% of the supers in the world of 2047.

The second is internal, Type 1M: the "mutants" of the world. They are the longest-running type of power, appearing in some form or another since the start of recorded history. They also tend to be the most variable of superpowers. Outliers do appear: Envoy is hypothesized to be an incredibly powerful mutant, but this is unproved. Mutant powers tend to have little rhyme or reason: some are fast, some are strong, some are loud, some make copies of their body parts, some eat food and manifest the food as body parts. Telekinesis is common, telepathy is highly uncommon. High intellect mutants are one of the primary reasons for the advanced level of technology in the world of 2047. This type makes up 10% of the Supers in the world. Supers such as Stardust full under this category, despite not being born with their powers.

The final is external, type II. These are magic or ritual based powers, and vary widely in their uses and power levels. Hex was one of the primary examples of this type of hero. Type 2M heroes are where the line is blurred. Some have otherworldly agreements with beings of unimaginable power, some use herbs and plants mixed with just the right kind of faith to perform miracles. In theory, anyone can learn these powers, but due to the vast amount of misinformation in the world at large, as well as whispers of a cabal hunting down "unregistered" magicians, this type of Super makes up only 10% of the world, from voodoo doctors to sorcerers.

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

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.// F A L L F R O M G L O R Y //.

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How did this cyberpunk world come to pass if the year is just 2047? Supers, that's how. Imagine normal wars with abnormal soldiers. Terrorists given terrific powers. In 2020, a terrorist group by the name of CYAN suddenly gained the ability to trigger earthquakes. The San Andreas fault was always going to be bad, but coaxed by manic operatives, it all but annihilated San Francisco, and sent Los Angeles into a similar tailspin.

In 2028, the world lost faith in supers altogether, when Fullbright tried to bring asteroid 1997XF11 into Earth's atmosphere as it passed by. Fullbright: a flying brick immune to space, who snapped after a bad breakup. Earth's premier team at the time, titled "Earth's Best", was able to mitigate some of the damage, but not nearly enough. The original asteroid would have annihilated all life on Earth. After Earth's Best were done with it, two smaller asteroids struck the Earth: in the Pacific ocean, and the west end of Russia, respectively. The resulting tsunamis and destruction killed millions, and displaced millions more.

Now, in 2047, the US West coast is still recovering from hefty damage, and Southeast Asia is still clawing back to life. The world is different now, just different enough for corporations to take advantage of the damage and bring the world to heel. People have moved away from the danger zones, leading to sprawls like Midwest City and Cedar Fort, South Carolina. But humanity is tough, and if there are no other mega-catastrophes, will survive.

For how long is anyone's guess.

R E D U X .// 2047 //.

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.// A U G M E N T A T I O N S //.

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Welcome to the world of 2047, where supertech has advanced the world to levels of tech that humans are wildly unprepared for. The presence of Type 1M (mutant) superpowers led to an explosive growth of tech beyond the wildest dreams of any futurist, leading to a renaissance of body modifications and improvements. Certain superpowered creators and developers learned early on the value of their advanced materials and engineering, and built empires out of metal and composites. This has led to what some call "the twin pillars of augmentation": internal cyberware, and external exorobotics. Also present in the world (to a lesser extent) are biowares.

CYBERWARE

Cyberware is defined in dictionaries as "prostheses which replicate human limbs, or hardware implanted in the human body to provide additional function." Ranging from replacement arms and hearts to synthetic muscle enhancements to neural laces, cyberware is popular for its form-factor and ease of use. Most cyberware is designed to be user friendly wherever possible, since few would wish to have an arm which they couldn't easily control. When enough money is involved, bleeding-edge materials and processes are used to reduce cyberware weight and improve functionality. The limitations of cyberware are power supply and (for high-end wares) production costs.

Most low-end cyberware relies on a charging port for an external power source, with limited operation time being the biggest downside for affordable wares. For some cyberwares where external charging is unfeasible (such as neural laces, adrenal stimulators, etc) an internal power-diverter draws glucose, proteins, or desired neurotransmitters from the body and stores them for later use. Oftentimes this results in the cyberware's owner being forced to consume far larger amounts of food than a non-augmented human, or risk falling into various states of disarray. Still other wares use piezoelectrics, finely threaded through joints to provide constant charging for those on the move, and a host of other charging technologies have been shown to have potential.

The top of the line cyberware uses bespoke power sources from the heavy-hitters of supertechnology. Solar wave absortion, exotic matter converters...regardless of the trademarked, technobabble name stamped on the tin, the most expensive of cyberware has no issue running night and day with no rest. Naturally, few ever find the funds to purchase augments of this caliber: corporate security, government superprojects, and very very wealthy individuals.

While not a superpower, being capable of fully integrating with cyberware is a genetic plus that not all humans are born with. Others can still wire up, but special drugs are sometimes required to prevent the rejection of the metal and synthetic muscles. Some of these drugs are better for the body than others, and many of them are incredibly addictive.

Despite this, cyberware is some of the most popular technology around. Many find the allure of becoming superhuman to be all be irresistible.

EXOROBOTICS

Exorobotics make up the other half of augmentation. The primary benefit of exorobotics is their total lack of regard for physical limitaions. Exoarmor can fit inordinate amounts of tech into various nooks and crannies, while cyberware will always be limited by how much foreign material a human body can store before breaking down.

Power supply is rarely an issue for Exorobotics. They can carry massive batteries, and the most expensive of them can implement miniaturized fusion reactors. Supertechnology is sometimes present in exorobotics, but the prevailing attitude among developers is "why bother?". Miniature fusion, while expensive and complicated, has been all but mastered, and it frequently provides all the power a single human could ever use.

Exorobotics are generally heavy, bulky, powerful, and hard to control. Certain militaries and police institutions have a group of soldiers which dedicate their time to taming the beasts that are powersuits. As with all augments, the high-end exorobotics developed for military use and corporate security uses supermaterials to reduce weight and improve response time, while still providing an immense amount of protection.

BIOWARES

Biowares are present in the world, but have yet to be sufficiently developed for widespread integration with society. The holy grail of body augmentation, biowares provide the benefits of cyberware, without any messy surgery, maintenance, or possible acute rejection system. Even in a world of supergeniuses and superscience, replicating and improving the human body as if it were the body itself is a slowly-progressing behemoth.

Biowares are also limited in their benefits: no flesh will ever replace the raw stopping force exoroboticsts can provide, for example. Still, the dream of a body-pure, post-human society is still alive.