ProxyInc

The Unwanted.

@AcerRo Did you want me to wait until you post? Sorry I've been behind on keeping up post order, if there is one that is, been stuck a little with my writing.

Questing for Reality

Quinn

New york, New York
---
Skyrim: The drunken huntsman

****

"Cage of Hell. Cage of Hell, what the hell does that mean?" she muttered, wringing the water from her hair and glaring at her reflection. In the background she could hear her mothers trilling laughter as she no doubt was meeting up with another client this morning. It wasn't that Quinn disapproved of her mothers new job, in fact it was a smart move when her school closed but it wasn't deserving of the late Prima. Linda was respectable among high society and Quinn fought to keep that image alive in the real world. Even if her mother didn't care; she did.

Quinn pulled on a soft black tee and some athletic pants. She enjoyed the way the fabric moved with her body as she stretched. It wasn't like the dives had a huge impact on her physical fitness, though if anything she was probably in better shape than she was when she danced with her mother. But habits die hard and there was something soothing about going over their old routines. Even if it meant she had to do them alone. At least the clothes helped keep her cool and comfortable; even under the haptic suit. While Linda only ever logged off for a few meals and sleep; sometimes not even that. Her mother was a shadow of her former self. Malnourished and the glow had left her skin but never her eyes. It was in that gleam she had never seen before that Quinn kept her mouth shut- that and it did rake in some decent earnings on top of the small royalties they received each month.

Other than the odd sound from her mother the outside world was fairly quiet. It used to be city that never slept, or so she was told, but now Quinn was left with the muttering of her thoughts. Which were almost obsessive with the damned riddle. Even Homeworld was flooded with rumors and secrets pertaining to The Quest, many a player tricked out of their hard earned cash for dead end information. It was a good run for the scammers though. Desperate and burned out adventurers would shell out good amount for any sliver of hope but alas, the leaderboard remained empty.

Quinn needed a break.

'Bills? Paid. Lunch? Leftover pizza and fizzy cola for mom. Plants? Watered.' Quinn mentally checked off her daily chore list as she padded to her personal VR chamber. She needed to do laundry but that'd just have to wait. Today she was supposed to meet up with Moonlit in a couple of hours, something about needing a few buffs in Skyrim.

Quinn chuckled at the thought of the small rogue. They had bumped into each other on the road when the girl had attempted to pick pocket her. If it wasn't for the fact she had high alert levels she probably wouldn't of even noticed. It was a fast partnership from there and if she was being honest, she enjoyed the companionship.

By now putting on the suit was a mindless routine. She strapped herself into he haptic suit and checked all its cords. Quinn knew she was luckier than most in her gear. It ran smoothly and felt comfortable against her body. The small circular treadmill moved effortlessly and most of all silently. Of course there was better gear out there but why waste the money when what she had wasn't broken?

Flexing once more before slipping her visor helmet on, Quinn felt the silence slip behind her, "Curiosity killed the cat, but for awhile I was a suspect." her mouth curled into a smile as she spoke her log in phrase. It was odd but it brought with it warm memories of a life well past. There was the familiar hum as the device sprung to life and put her in a virtual version of New York city. This is what she imagined old school New York probably looked like. It was bustling. Avatars roamed together all around her, chatting, going into virtual ships and driving about.

'First things first.' Proxy patted the hem of her kimono. She needed to stop by the bank before popping off. Both her and her mother had opened a joint account, allowing her to sort their finances without her mom having to be there

The small avatar wound its way down the street. She ignored the odd glances from the suits around her. Yes, she looked like some demon child. Yes, she had a pastel Japanese dress on. Yes, her eyes did glow. It really shouldn't be that odd anymore. There was plenty of avi's modded out with much flashier equipment wandering about.

Today was lucky though, as she had logged in not to far from their bank.

Stepping in Proxy noted the soft scent of vanilla that wafted in the air as she stepped up to a empty console. The bank had underwent some upgrades since she had last visited. The walls which used to be a pearly white was now lined with sharp silver embellishments. Small security orbs roamed while scanning the room; ever on the lookout for hackers and the like.

She plugged in her security details and opened up the units slot. "What the shit." she muttered angrily. Proxy checked again but the glaring red letters read the same: Zero. Her mother had forgotten, again. Stepping back she swiped her hand down with apparent irritation, pulling up the main menu and scrolled through until her mothers username appeared.

A small keyboard popped up as she opted to send a text message instead of video. Her tiny fingers plucking at the letters with vicious intent,

'Dear mother,
Despite your assurance it would seem you've forgotten to deposit last nights earnings into the account. Please drop them in by lunch so I can send them to be converted.
Love,
Q.

"P.s. Stop being a forgetful cow. 'Kay. Thanks. Much love." Proxy mocked be for sending the message. Closing out from the menu Proxy stormed out of the bank and stomped all the way to a nearby portal. She wasn't sure if the developers meant for the hole to be permanent or what but the portals here happened to be modeled off a famous show and resembled old British police boxes. She didn't mind. Actually she thought it was a bit funny- albeit out of place.

There was a few people ahead of her so she pulled up her menu once more but this time to change her equipment. Skyrim was built off a classic rpg game but luckily they had made some subtle upgrades as the popularity went up. Still, her kimono wasn't something equippable there and after the first time of logging in to find herself down to basic underwear, which unfortunately she didn't realise that her first log in gifted her with basic armor in her inventory, she really didn't want repeat the event.

Her kimono gave way to a soft cloth tunic, dyed in her favorite lilac color. A beautiful lute appeared on her back, it's wood a strong cherry color with tiny delicate details carved into its base. By time she had swapped out her clothes and equips it was funny her turn At the portal

Proxy loaded a few units into the machine and chose her world. Being uploaded from one place to another felt like her whole body was vibrating. It was a strange sensation that she wasn't sure shed ever get used too but luckily it didn't last long. Opening the door proxy was greeted to a new sight. New York had faded away and in its place was what looked like a medieval tavern.

"You really should think about getting a base here, Proxy." a familiar voice called out.

Smirking she turned to see Andromida0014 a worker that managed the portals and sold health and mana potions. "Finally going to buy me a home here then?" she teased as she stepped out into The drunken huntsman. There was a handful of adventurers milling about as they waited for their guild members to arrive.

"Have you seen Moonlit?"

"No. Sorry. You going to do a bit of business while you wait?"

"Unless you're willing to start paying for my bills as well."

Andromida0014 chuckled before shaking her head in disbelief, "Well you know the deal. Now get out there."

Proxy shared in the laughter before removing the lute off her back. Her fingers traced down the taunt strings and plucked out a few notes. It felt real, that's the part that always got her, it felt heavy and solid in her hands. Not like a pile of ones and zeros.

She strode over to the center of the room when a small option menu popped up. Clicking on a selection her hand automatically went back to her lute. At this point she was no longer in control of her hands as the coded music poured out. It was a complex classic piece, a higher tier piece. Though she couldn't play this in real life it didn't stop her from getting into it. Her eyes closed as she allowed herself to dissolve into the softness of the sound. The sway of the music as her alt shifted its weight from one foot to the other. Already emails were popping up on the corner. Requests for trade. A few party invited and what looked like a new guild invite.

As the music came to an end the room broke into scattered applause. Proxy was a decent level bard. Her music selection showed just that as it was only unlocked after a certain level. The higher level she was the better as she had access to bigger and badder spells. Which meant more coin she could charge per buff. Quickly she began addressing the messages; opened the trades and began to play over small groups that would gather before her.

Even if she stood there all day. At the end of the day it didn't amount to much. Not even if she was to stiff Andromida0014 on her cut shed barely bring home more than 60 or 70 dollars but it was better than nothing and she enjoyed the job.

'Now where is that pesky rogue?' she thought as she glanced over the room.

The Unwanted.

@AcerRo You weren't holding me up at all.

Questing for Reality

HecateProxy

Proxy

Avatar's Appearance
Proxy stands at a mere four feet; her body lithe and almost childlike. Two horns curl up at her hair line, a deep charcoal that fades to a soft grey. Her ruddy chocolate colored tresses are pinned back by a giant bow. Proxy's eyes are a vivid amber with a soft glow modded to them. She primarily sports a short lilac kimono and dark thigh high boots.

Avatar's Gender
Female

Avatar's Personality
Proxy is very expressive, much like a child who has yet to learn how to mask their emotions. Her face is an open book when it comes to how she's feeling. She's also known to be quite easily distracted with a penchant for the arts; music to be precise. Her world is very much alive with color and emotion. Everything has its own unique glow.

Preferred worlds
Fantasy

Quinn Prater

Female,23

Willowly, with a dancers frame Quinn stands at a impressive five foot seven. Her snow colored hair is kept short and neat in effort to keep the time down on maintaining proper hygiene. The less time spent logged off- the better. Her wardrobe is bland. Basic long sleeve shirts and soft stretchy yoga pants. Comfort over fashion was her motto; not like she saw many people anyway.

Personality
Can someone be withdrawn in this day and age? If so- then that would be Quinn. She didn't often talk out loud though the chatter in her head was often overwhelming. To be frank; it was a mad house in there. In person it was a struggle to get words to actually leave her mental abode though put her behind a screen and the worlds inside her came pouring out. Quinn was a dreamer. She loves the fluidity of the world around her; even the decay that crept outside her front door. She was passionate behind her stoic behavior often swayed by her flippant emotions.

History
Art.
Her entire life was bathed in the arts. Her mother was a highly respected dancer and at the height of her career- a prima ballerina. That was until she fell pregnant with her only child. There was no room for the spot light and parenthood and while she often assured her daughter that it was an easy decision it was easy to tell she somewhat resented giving up her life's passion.

Her mother had opened her own dance academy when Quinn was still small. It was lucrative as it only accepted the most skilled, or those with deep pockets, in. Even Quinn was forced to compete for class space and if she failed then she was forced to wait and retake the competition exam the following year. Though as the world kept crumbling even the flawless lights of New York began to dim and the world began to plug in more and more. Of course, business dropped. Not much need for a dance instructor in the virtual world where everyone could be at the peak of discipline and fitness with a few key codes. They lucked out though. Her mother had connections and ended up with a job of modeling the sequences for dance in VR. That's right, those smooth moves you just preformed? They came from Linda Prater first and the royalties allowed her and her daughter to live comfortably.

But of course as the VR became more integrated the less the users called for preprogrammed moves and the royalties began to dwindle.

Not that her mother noticed. Like Quinn, she found herself enthralled with the possibilities that virtual reality offered. She was able to thrust herself back into her golden days as an entertainer of sorts and while her body aged and began to sink in reality. Here, here she was eternal in youth and beauty.

Taking care of the real world expenses had fallen to Quinn. She made the payments. Managed their funds in the virtual bank and even managed to squirrel away a rainy day fund for when her mother's new life choice came to a halt. She was even tasked with placing their grocery order which shipped to their front door. What a wonderful life technology had given the world. Everything at convenience. Though she didn't allow herself to get soft. Dance was her core and every day she dedicated at least three hours to her basic routines. It was in VR that she was given a place to relax, to be free and she ran wild with the fantasy realms created for her. But even there she found limits. The same ol' repeats left her feeling empty. Quinn wanted more. There was a million ideas swimming in her head that were just sitting there; collecting dust. That was until 'The Quest' was announced. Now not only was she faced with a new exciting adventure but the chance to shape VR to the ideas in her head.

Expertise
Creativity. As uninspired as it sounds,it allows Quinn to take a look at challenges from different angles and offer solutions to tricky situations.

The Unwanted.

@SheriffLlama I think it came out great but I already told you as such. Will react tomorrow. As it is late and I am old

The Unwanted.

Lynette Marshall

Location: Police station
Interacting with: DeMarcus and Parker Blake/Cops/Elijah Craigh

****

Have you ever drowned without being underwater? Because that's how Lynette was feeling. Her body felt like it was floating; weightless in the crushing silence around her. Her mind had blocked out the world. It muffled the man in the front seat. It blinded her from the curious faces outside. The numbness had consumed her but at least the tears had stopped falling. Her body no longer shook with the shock of betrayal but instead a thin thread of anger had begun to grow in its place.

She wasn't even aware they had arrived at the police station until the door opened next to her. The mornings cool air stealing her from her isolation and thrusting her back into her pained reality. "Miss, you need to come inside." the deputy ushered when the youth failed to emerge on her own.

Lynette wanted to refuse. She wanted to demand to go home but her body silently obeyed as she crawled out of the vehicle. Clutching her pack to her chest she followed behind the man, eyes glued to his heels in attempt to ignore the knowing looks cast at them. She didn't feel like she was floating anymore. Her body felt tight and raw. "Alright, here we go. Just wait in here with the others and someone will be with you guys in a moment."

Lynette nodded and stepped inside only to be greeted with a few familiar faces. Parker was the first person she saw; sprawled out on the floor with what seemed to be a relaxed take to the whole situation. Her brother was off to the side a little, talking to someone. It took a minute of staring before his name bubbled to the surface,'Elijah' He was a bit of a myth around town. Her parents often warned her to stay away from the likes of him. Looking at him now he didn't seem the scary, shady character from her parents cautioning but then again he was at the police station.

She moved over to the corner and leaned against it. "What a way to start the day." Lynette joked as she looked up at the buzzing lights above. "I wonder what's going to happen next." It didn't seem like she was talking to anyone in particular. More like talking out loud as she fought the tears that stung in her eyes once again. She didn't want to cry but there was no stopping it. Lynette's face crumpled as she slid down the wall to the floor below. She hurt. Every part of her hurt and it came out in ugly sobs.

She hid her battered face in her pack in attempt to muffle her cries; desperately wishing she'd disappear or that she'd wake up safe and warm in her bed. This couldn't be real. Could it?

The Unwanted.

Still here. I'll post up tomorrow

Questing for Reality

-totally just put a random name on hers-

Questing for Reality

HecateProxy

HecateProxy

Proxy

Avatar's Appearance
Proxy stands at a mere four feet; her body lithe and almost childlike. Two horns curl up at her hair line, a deep charcoal that fades to a soft grey. Her ruddy chocolate colored tresses are pinned back by a giant bow. Proxy's eyes are a vivid amber with a soft glow modded to them. She primarily sports a short lilac kimono and dark thigh high boots.

Avatar's Gender
Female

Avatar's Personality
Proxy is very expressive, much like a child who has yet to learn how to mask their emotions. Her face is an open book when it comes to how she's feeling. She's also known to be quite easily distracted with a penchant for the arts; music to be precise. Her world is very much alive with color and emotion. Everything has its own unique glow.

Preferred worlds
Fantasy

Quinn Prater

Female,23

Willowly, with a dancers frame Quinn stands at a impressive five foot seven. Her snow colored hair is kept short and neat in effort to keep the time down on maintaining proper hygiene. The less time spent logged off- the better. Her wardrobe is bland. Basic long sleeve shirts and soft stretchy yoga pants. Comfort over fashion was her motto; not like she saw many people anyway.

Personality
Can someone be withdrawn in this day and age? If so- then that would be Quinn. She didn't often talk out loud though the chatter in her head was often overwhelming. To be frank; it was a mad house in there. In person it was a struggle to get words to actually leave her mental abode though put her behind a screen and the worlds inside her came pouring out. Quinn was a dreamer. She loves the fluidity of the world around her; even the decay that crept outside her front door. She was passionate behind her stoic behavior often swayed by her flippant emotions.

History
Art.
Her entire life was bathed in the arts. Her mother was a highly respected dancer and at the height of her career- a prima ballerina. That was until she fell pregnant with her only child. There was no room for the spot light and parenthood and while she often assured her daughter that it was an easy decision it was easy to tell she somewhat resented giving up her life's passion.

Her mother had opened her own dance academy when Quinn was still small. It was lucrative as it only accepted the most skilled, or those with deep pockets, in. Even Quinn was forced to compete for class space and if she failed then she was forced to wait and retake the competition exam the following year. Though as the world kept crumbling even the flawless lights of New York began to dim and the world began to plug in more and more. Of course, business dropped. Not much need for a dance instructor in the virtual world where everyone could be at the peak of discipline and fitness with a few key codes. They lucked out though. Her mother had connections and ended up with a job of modeling the sequences for dance in VR. That's right, those smooth moves you just preformed? They came from Linda Prater first and the royalties allowed her and her daughter to live comfortably.

But of course as the VR became more integrated the less the users called for preprogrammed moves and the royalties began to dwindle.

Not that her mother noticed. Like Quinn, she found herself enthralled with the possibilities that virtual reality offered. She was able to thrust herself back into her golden days as an entertainer of sorts and while her body aged and began to sink in reality. Here, here she was eternal in youth and beauty.

Taking care of the real world expenses had fallen to Quinn. She made the payments. Managed their funds in the virtual bank and even managed to squirrel away a rainy day fund for when her mother's new life choice came to a halt. She was even tasked with placing their grocery order which shipped to their front door. What a wonderful life technology had given the world. Everything at convenience. Though she didn't allow herself to get soft. Dance was her core and every day she dedicated at least three hours to her basic routines. It was in VR that she was given a place to relax, to be free and she ran wild with the fantasy realms created for her. But even there she found limits. The same ol' repeats left her feeling empty. Quinn wanted more. There was a million ideas swimming in her head that were just sitting there; collecting dust. That was until 'The Quest' was announced. Now not only was she faced with a new exciting adventure but the chance to shape VR to the ideas in her head.

Expertise
Creativity. As uninspired as it sounds,it allows Quinn to take a look at challenges from different angles and offer solutions to tricky situations.

Questing for Reality

Oops, I've seemed to have dropped all this interest here. How clumsy of me.