yoshua171

Coding Playground

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One Piece: New Horizons!

Lilliana Merrycure

---

Watching intently, despite hardly understanding the nature of the contest beyond its basic concept and rules, Lilli hoped that their ally would win. At Bonekid's interjection, she glanced away, “I am not sure myself, but I am curious to see where this goes.” She turned her eyes back to the situation, frowning as she noted each disgusting dish served by the enemy crewmate. It kept getting worse as disgusting turned to dangerous, and dangerous turned to potentially lethal.

With each successive meal eaten, she found herself more and more perplexed by Runch's lack of reaction. Even hearing Hachirou's explanation, she could hardly believe it. It was incredible, even if implausible. There were so many amazing things in this world!

As Runch's final meal was eaten her eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly in a small gasp. “Oh wow,” she muttered quietly as their ally won. Then, as she realized it was over, a big smile—if a tired one—spread across her face. Though she had not the energy to cheer or clap, she managed a big thumbs up. While Feya tried to bring her into the huddle, her seated and weak position had her ducking out of that little situation. She smiled at her crew, happy for the enthusiasm, even if she couldn't mirror it. Then she looked back to Runch as he began returning and offered her compliments to the chef.

“Very Impressive,” she said, managing a measure of gusto.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

Theme

---

Reading the text, his smile fell, then quirked slightly at the corner of his lips, before vanishing again. All as planned.

Tap, tap tap tap, tap tap, tap. Pause. Tap tap.

He began relaying messages through his network of thralls. Investigate, keep an eye on the cameras and report. Report suspicious activity from staff or civilians. Report anyone paying too much attention to certain groups—those around the Jacks—and the Jacks themselves. Additionally he reinforced a set of directives set in place to never rat him or the Jacks out. These he'd programmed deepest into the psyche of his thralls. It would take a lot to out them. He'd even instructed them to lie about what comedians they went out to see, varrying things so even that was hard to connect to him. Anything to obscure the path, but enough of that, he had a job to do.

He activated his bluetooth.

"Blucifer's been blown up. Flights cancelled or grounded for search. Cause unknown. Trying to figure out what the fuss is." He didn't say it too seriously, no more seriously than someone having a casual conversation on the phone. His team would understand, but those around would think little of it, if anything.

Updates began coming in from his thralls. Flights truly were being cancelled and grounded. No one had been informed just yet. Clearly a security measure, something to reduce panic. With something like this, he wanted to know if they called in cape assistance or—....

Perhaps there were capes already on scene other than them?

"We might have some other brainiacs on scene. With security and the airport. Unsure."

He left the bluetooth connection open, but muted so they couldn't hear his surroundings. He began tapping again, sending messages to the highest ranking thralls in his bunch, trying to go up the chain of command to locate any thinkers on scene. He wanted to see of they could use them...even if he couldn't control them.

He wanted to know what their reads were. He wanted information and he wanted it yesterday.

"Besides you Hunter, stay packed up. You don't need anything in your carry-ons yet." He said it, implying they shouldn't gear up just yet. He took his own advice, making a note of the various drop off points he had his gear delivered to. He didn't have one, because he wasn't sure where the threat would come from, but he didn't want to have to make a huge detour just to arm himself. He wanted it to be on the way.

Hopefully his careful planning would pay off.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Evelyn Chambers

---

Raising an eyebrow, Evelyn glanced at the reactions of the others in the circle, before she crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. While Lillian spoke, Evelyn listened intently, drinking her coffee with an almost eerie, detached calm. In her chest she felt a faint tightness and she couldn't help the muscles in her jaw flexing from time to time, but it wasn't like before.

At the admission of Sonar's betrayal, and how deep it was, she simply gripped her coffee cup more tightly and stopped drinking. Slowly, the action tightly controlled, she set the rumpled cup on the tabletop.

She took a deep breath and met Lillian's eyes before looking to Alessa, their team leader. Her eye twitched faintly, she swallowed, but ultimately still spoke.

There was no fire in her eyes, only something cold and controlled. She'd been seeing her therapist more often, but surely this wasn't what they would have wanted. "If you can set the bait, I can close the trap," she said, leaving the 'how' of it ambiguous. She turned back to her coffee, and drank some more letting the others pitch in.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

Theme

---

The Denver International Airport, a place with high security, higher even than many airports—which were already well guarded and surveilled to begin with. It was a true behemoth, something most criminals would find themselves skulking away from, setting their sights lower.

He was no average criminal. No, he was a performer and a mastermind and he knew how to play a crowd. Thralls in security, thralls entering as civilians, thralls watching cameras. It had taken quite a bit of effort to coordinate it all for this day, but he'd managed to. Schedule switches, work accidents, small things...things no one would think terribly strange. Cameras might pan to see a new region, follow a civilian acting suspicious, a security guard might let someone through who would normally not have passed. Someone watching the items going through security might search someone to distract while contraband got through.

Beyond even this, he'd instructed the other Jacks not to enter all at once, though for Thunderbolt and Whimsy to go together. Their gear got in, getting through checks, though some other poor civilians—fans--were pulled aside for contraband. He'd checked statistics, making sure it wasn't abnormally high for the day. He didn't want people to catch on to how they'd infiltrated retroactively.

He wanted this done carefully and so it was.

Finally, last of the Jacks to enter, Drake went through security. However, he didn't look like his normal self. Indeed he'd donned very light make up—with the help of several fans—and an ensemble different from his usual clothes, to help obscure his identity.

He got through, though with a search of his person. A brief patdown, just to make things look fine. The cameras caught it all, and indeed it was to make him appear even less guilty. After all, they'd checked him and all his luggage extensively and found nothing. It was on camera, it had caught his face and still...they'd have nothing on him.

As he finished passing through TSA, donned his shoes, stylish black jacket, put his built back on and of course reactived his bluetooth, he felt quite satisfied with his performance thus far.

Heading past the first bathroom he saw, Drake used tapcode to notify a few thralls, who converged on his position under the guise of getting food. As he headed for his gate one of his thralls tripped and splashed his clothes with coffee. He made a brief scene, the thrall was apologetic, and then he moved on his way understandably heading back for a bathroom. At the precise moment of his entry his thralls obscured him from the cameras in what would appear total happenstance. He entered with several regular civilians, took care of his business, and washed off his face thoroughly. He also changed his clothes, drying off and getting out of his ruined clothes, all the while muttering angrily.

When he left the bathroom, again with a group, he was not the same man who had entered.

Just one more step taken to obscure his identity. Thereafter he headed for the gate, notifying his teammates that he had gotten in fine. Briefly he used tapcode to check with a number of his thralls, then notified the team that everything was in place. Their eyes and ears were open now all they had to do...was wait.

---

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

She'd woken up that morning with the intention of doing some last touches on some homework and perhaps later do some a bit more shopping to fill out a set of new outfits in her wardrobe, but as she dressed, applied light make-up and ate her breakfast she found that her plans would go unfulfilled.

Warning: Do not speak any of the following out loud. Emergency mission for the Wards, approved by Decoy. Details to follow. Meet at the Little Owl Cafe ASAP in civilian clothing. Tiger Lily will provide crucial details on what could be the most important mission of your whole careers.

Frowning slightly, Evelyn laughed a bit to herself, glanced at her phone to check the weather, and then retrieved a coat. When she felt sufficiently prepared she told her parents she was going out for morning coffee with some friends before school. Her mom gave her a kiss on the head and her dad told her not to be late.

She smiled, waved, and headed out getting a taxi to the address. When she got there she thanked the man, tipped him, and got out to walk down the block to the Little Owl Cafe. All the while, unseen, her 'shadow' passed through the street and the walls around her, never visible in her vicinity, but always there...ready.

Pushing open the door with a shoulder Evelyn entered, giving her team a wave and a slightly guarded smile, before she got a coffee—with plenty of cream—and then headed over to sit down with them. Though her makeup was still light, she seemed to be wearing more than normal, though it was perhaps something one might notice only if they were particular observant.

The rest of her demeanor seemed about the same as usual.

"Hey guys. Same message?" She asked, making sure the others had come her for the same reason she had. Frankly she didn't much like that her routine had been interrupted, but oh well...she could tolerate an interruption from time to time. Perhaps this time things might go somewhat smoothly....

....

---

Jake Krain

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Typing away behind his desk, Jake frowned as he heard a faint crashing noise. Then, all of the sudden things went crazy, glass shattered as something struck the building. He ducked under his desk, mind racing, eyes narrowing. People started screaming, some from what sounded like pain, but most in panic and fear.

Not a good sign. With the windows gone he could hear that the chaos was much worse outside. Immediately his mind raced and while he felt no panic or worry he felt a sense of urgency. He had to do something, but how to get out of this situation and not reveal his identity?

Go to the roof.

Quickly he moved and began helping others evacuate, but at the nearest opportunity he slipped away and headed up. He bid others not to go outside as it was more dangerous there than in their office building.

Some listened, some didn't. After a few minutes of straining to keep going up stairs he reached the top of his building. It was a tall one.

His legs hurt pretty badly from the climb. He'd be feeling that later. Fortunately he wouldn't be feeling it now.

The air warped, he felt a sense of nausea, followed by a blast of intense emotion, like surfacing after being underwater for a long...long time. The first breath was most intense, and pleasurable, but quickly it eased off and he could focus.

His senses ecpanded, immediately, and rapidly, giving him a mapping of electrical and bio-electrical activity. Showing him warping fields of magnetic energy. Sound bouncing off things, giving him an incredibly accurate read of the situation.

In short: Absolute Chaos.

Unacceptable.

---

---

Outsider

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Feeling the sheer size and strength of his Second Vessel, he rose into the air off the roof of his job, taking off and accelerating suddenly in a burst, displacing air around him. He whirred down from the rooftop and then slowed all at once, his senses honing in on what so many people were retreating from.

That was what he'd hit. As he slowed he whipped the tendrils of his body, entwined to make a wide flat surface like wings, causing a powerful gust of wind to blast down at the cape. Amplifying it, Outside unleashed a barrage of kinetic blasts, uncoiling his tentacles to rush down at the cape.

From what he'd heard and the result of the individual's present, he hazarded that it was Eyeblight.

"Stand down," his deep, hollow voice rang out. Then, less threatening he spoke to the civilians "Exit your vehicles and head away from my location. Do not look in my direction. Villain, Eyeblight on scene."

As he spoke he whipped a three tentacles down through the air at Eyeblight, their speed frightening, the weight behind them potentially devastating.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

Theme

---

Intrigued by the newcomer, he let her speak, as well as allowing the others to chime in. Something of a back and forth it was. Amusing, though perhaps not as satisfying what with the lack of his involvement.

No matter.

"Welcome to the team, ah, Alloy." He flashed her a grin, "I'm Chatterbox, but you can call me CB." He walked over to the table and sat down. Briefly he considered her power, "It will be useful to have someone with your talents on the team. I can't wait to put your power to good use, so to speak."

He paused, considering something, then snapped his fingers, "Did the boss inform you of our abilities beforehand?" It was good to know if she needed to updated on the state of things. Of course, he was wondering a host of other things, such as her tactical and strategic ability. Her intelligence. Her tendencies.... Perhaps her phone number. However, those would come in time.

---

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

While she felt some relief at the Director's words, there were other parts of what he was saying that made something in her itch and balk. She kept her mouth shut thought, her eyes darting around occassionally. Deep breaths, slow, quiet breaths. They didn't respond well to her emotions, the fact that this mattered to her. They didn't see it, they didn't really understand. So rather than say anything further to Kens or the other she just nodded and turned to go.

On her way out, however, Alessa got her attention. She stopped, but didn't turn back, onoly moving her head slightly in recognition of her teammate. She wasn't happy with how this had turned out, or started, or went. What more could Alessa offer? She wasn't really in charge, all she did was push the paper for the wards and take point on the field. She couldn't change anyone's mind at the top, she didn't have any clout, any pull...any control.

"Thanks Alessa," she responded. When she turned and looked at the girl there was a weak, but seemingly genuine smile, on her face. It even went to her eyes. Still, there was something almost...defeated about the Evelyn that anyone looking would see.

It only lasted a moment and she didn't even make an attempt to communicate further, instead turning away and walking out. She'd felt so good about today, they'd put bad people away, protected innocent civilian lives. She'd thought it would be two less villains out there where they could hurt people. Instead it was just one...and the other one would go back out—presumably in the guise of a hero. The thought was a twisted one, it perverted everything she'd thought she knew about the PRT, the Protectorate...the Wards.

As she walked down the hall and made her way out of the holding area, she glanced down at her hands.

'Am I the only one who knows the difference?' She wondered.

'Is my view just as warped as theirs...by association?'

A frown crossed her features and she brushed hair from her eyes absently. In doing so she caught a glimpse of a silver 'shadow'. She looked at it, then turned her attention to it through her power. Her projection was...sprawling. A huge net spreading through the walls and floors and anywhere that people weren't.

The realization of the amount of space it was covering, the sheer mass froze her midway up the stairs. She stood there a moment, breathing with slow practiced breaths. She'd forgotten that she was trying to stay calm, but was glad that she'd kept up the practice, glad that she'd had the training and that it had really stuck with her.

Focusing, she made the silver shadow shrink, condensing it and warping it to hide with her. She kind of understood it now, in a way. It was like the others in the meeting room, but it was like her too. It started out pure, but in the world it...it didn't stay that way. It was a more fragile thing than her in its way, its mind decaying the longer it was exposed.

Yet, it was predictable now. Now that she knew that. Now that she understood it.

She started walking again and when she got to the ground floor she gave a few tired waves to the staff before leaving. She didn't want to be around anyone right now. Or well, she didn't want to be around any of them.

To get her mind off things, maybe once she got home, she'd go shopping. Somewhere she could go alone. She'd pick up a music player too, that way it wouldn't just be the quiet of her mind.

That would be nice. Yeah, she'd go buy a new outfit or two.

What a good idea.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

Her eyes darted between the heroes and on some level she registered their reactions, their sudden wariness, the worry, the tension, and perhaps the smallest hint of fear.

Her idols...opposing her, no, opposing what was right. Putting away the bad guys, the evil in the world. Protecting people from them. Making sure they didn't have a chance to hurt anyone again. How did they not see it??

Interrupting her consideration of how to handle this revelation, Alessa arrived...getting between her and Lillian.

Her thoughts snagged on something, a trauma, ugly and painful. Guilt. She wouldn't hurt Lillian...even if she was furious. Her power had done it once, she wouldn't let it happen again. The fact that Alessa was protecting the younger girl, as if she was going to hurt their teammate. As if she was some--

Alessa's words struck her and a hot flash of rage rolled through her, it felt like her vision went red for a moment, just a flash. She clenched her hands into fists, digging nails into flesh, the tension in her jaw apparent. She exhaled, but it came out in two strangled words, hurt, affronted, disappointed, "You too?" She turned her back to 'Messiah,' what a traitor. How dare she.

As Inkscape spoke she honed in on him. Already, through her mind went permutations of the powers in her grasp. Materials cinched together like puzzle pieces, concepts fitting into place.

Silver light began drifting down from the ceiling, becoming the silhouette of something long and many limbed.

The Director's words interrupted her and a surge of outrage flared then rapidly cooled, warping into something less, but more twisted. She gripped the cloth of her shirt at the bottom, then her leg, clawing at herself even as she exhaled. The silver silhouette 'relaxed' into something vague, more like a cloud of indistinct light, and then vanished.

She swallowed, her head...clearer, but...but it didn't feel right. Her emotions were tangled, chaotic. She stumbled, even while the others entered the conferance room. She managed to follow, but appeared faintly disoriented.

Still she didn't sit down with the others, even despite feeling suddenly shaky, as if her stance maybe weren't so strong and righteous, as if her beliefs maybe weren't quite so valid...maybe because everyone clearly did not agree with her. She stood as far from the others as she could while still being in the room.

Something in her didn't want anything to do with them in that moment, but she couldn't leave either. She felt too strongly about this...too strongly. She felt her frown deepen. She'd been frowning? Was she really so disconnected that she hadn't realized what her face was doing?

Crossing her arms she hugged herself as if cold and found that she was shaking. Adrenaline maybe?

Director Kens kept going on about the situation about Shatte—no...about 'Quintana,' the boy behind the mask. Around their ages, abused, bullied...driven to this. She saw the path that could lead someone to the actions she'd witnessed and read reports about, but...it didn't connect.

Just because there was a justification, a reason, that Shatterpoint had done what he'd done didn't make it right, okay, or excusable.

She swallowed, shuffling her feet, then made a decision. Yet, when she spoke up, there wasn't much conviction in her voice and she couldn't meet anyone's eyes.

"If you induct him into the Wards, I'm not working with him and if you intend to make me, you can consider this a resignation." She fell silent, averting her gaze so she stared sidelong at a wall, trying not to look at anyone.

The 'shadow' of her power occasionally blipped out from the ceiling, its form expanded in an unseen shroud between floors, looming over and around the conference room. It wasn't a conscious manipulation or an attempt at escalation or intimidation, but it was there.

One Piece: New Horizons!

Lilliana Merrycure

---

Returned to her crew after the fight, Lilli sat near Bonesword and leaned heavily into her chair, thoroughly exhausted. Still, she watched the next bout intently, largely administering to her own wounds as best as she was able. A shot from one of her syringes helped perk her up a bit, but she knew that she wasn't really in any condition for a second bout.

Frowning at the vitriol the badger spat throughout, Lilli was entirely unsurprised when Joane lost. Still, it had been fairly impressive, she wished that perhaps she could see the honey badger in a more fair fight in the future. Perhaps then her bravado would be worth something.

Glancing away from the proceedings between matches, she looked to Bonesword as he got up. She tried, and failed, to grab his boney hand. Fortunately, her son knew his limits well and returned, asking Boone to fight instead.

Grateful at their captain's response she smiled, letting out a relieved sigh. “Come back over here you boney boy and keep me company,” she said, beckoning Bonesword back, a tired smile on her lips. Even B-M.O seemed sluggish, the metallic organism barely apparent as little metal stubs at her shoulder blades and a faint silver tint to her skin.

If she hadn't known her body so well she'd have thought she felt like death.

If.

Capes of Denver: A Worm RP

Chatterbox

Theme

---

Arriving with the rest, Chatterbox took to reading the document once they'd taken care to bind Xolotl, he'd take care of the enthralling the man later. Let him...stew for a time. Looking things over he was initially slightly put off and confused, but as he considered the possibilities he warmed to the idea.

Then Thunderbolt spoke up. A small grin formed on his lips as he turned to the man, hooking his thumbs into his pockets. "Well, that sounds like a good start, but really I think we could do even better than that," His gaze passed over those present and his grin grew into something more malevolent. There was a devious glint in his eyes, "Using my...extensive network of thralls I think we can get to crimes before the Protectorate or authorities do. We can stop them...publicly, then leave. Even better, I can spread my influence as we do." He chuckled, "In fact, I'll have a whole new setup for it. We can stage crimes and catch those in progress, and then stop them cold. Occasionally we can steal or hurt maybe just a little too much. Can't let the negative view get too low. We need fear and respect or adoration in equal measures I think."

He put a hand on Thunderbolt's shoulder, metting his eyes, "What do ya say we do this as a team, rather than individually?"

Whether the others consented or not was of no consequence to him. He was going to do it anyways and he was going to have just the most fun doing it.

---

Evelyn Chambers – Tulpa

---

Having returned home with her parents to eat and have a bit of off time, Evelyn decided she wanted to head back to base. Feeling better after the meal, she said farewell to her mom and dad, getting much needed hugs, before she departed. There was a lot on her mind. Why had the Rockers attacked such a well defended event? It didn't make any sense. Was Ceramix really that stupid? Was Shatterpoint?

Finding a small alcove nearby she shed her outer clothes, revealing her costume. She put her civvies in her backpack and then, briefly, manifested her projection. It was much larger than her, but more in the space it filled, rather than its own size. It had long spindly limbs, and a lot of them. Its back was covered in spines. She grabbed onto its back and held on tight, positioning her feet as it casually climbed into the wall of the alley and began hoisting her up with it. After a few brief moments they were on the roof. With a shudder, she willed it to return to its inert state.

Hugging herself she closed her eyes, for though she was reassured by its departure, the presence of her tulpa still bothered her to a degree. It wasn't as bad as it had been, but she had to take a moment to calm her beating heart. While she took that time she willed her projection in the direction of HQ. It took about three seconds for it to arrive. Once it had she spread it out into a wide web-like network of hyper thin strands of silver light. It swept through the building, scanning materials and any capes present—she tried to avoid Collin's room, but still she got a read on him. Confused that she hadn't gotten hit with a headache, she tilted her head.

She even staggered back a bit. What the hell? She either got blank space or a headache from the nullification field, but she'd...scanned him? Her brow screwing up in a frown, Evelyn tried to grasp at what that might mean.

Had Ira maybe found a way to stabilize his power with her tinkertech? She should check in with him, but more important, she needed to check in with the higher ups about the two villains in holding.

"Hmm, Captain Morales, Inkscape, Protean, Decoy, Sylph, Tiger Lily, Messiah, Epsilon, Sonar, Shatterpoint, aand Ceramix," she counted them on her fingers, putting her thumb down as she hit eleven. It was a good amount to work with. Probably more than enough. She hadn't expected to get access to Sylph or Sonar.

First, she formulated what she wanted. Something fast, but that wouldn't jostle her around or garner the city's attention too much. Maneuverable.

She gave it the traits of gas and rubber and stone. It would be sturdy and flexible, but far lighter than it ought to be. It would draw on energy faintly with Messiah's power, transmutating it into high precision blasts of Wind with mechanics from Protean and a focus from Shatterpoint and Sylph. She crafted it with wings and frills. It would wrap around her like a suit or Epsilon's jetpack, giving her a tail, wings and frills coming from her back. For fun she had its base color scheme match her costume. It would move silently, using a combination of Sonar's power and Messiah's to absorb the vibration energy and have that fuel other part of its power. Its form could vary somewhat, shifting to help it fly. She gave it a bit from Decoy, mixing the focus ot the tinker power with Protean's, giving it—and her—something like a cloaking field. She even worked Epsilon's trump powers into there. She didn't want to end up having to deal with the incredible G-forces of moving as fast as she planned to go.

Everything formulated, she opened her eyes. A whole minute and thirty had passed. Laughing a bit to herself she took a breath and manifested her projection. It appeared in the air, wrapping parts of itself around her shoulders, waist, and torso like a living climbing harness. When she felt sufficiently secured she got a running start and found that her footsteps made no sound.

It was working!

The deciding moment came when she jumped off the roof. The tulpa's body unfurled into wings and frills, catching the natural wind, but she kept falling. A look of panic briefly crossed her face before—rather suddenly—it angled off and soared upwards. She squeeled and laughed, the panic turning into excitement. This felt great!

The projection turned and headed towards HQ with her in its embrace. It accelerated rapidly, but strangely she wasn't being buffetted by the wind or struck by bugs, dust, or other detritus. She closed her eyes, finally finding enough trust in her power to focus on its innerworkings for a moment.

"Huh," she exclaimed thoughtfully. Apparently it was redirecting the non-air material around her and elsewhere as a natural extension of its prime function: Defending her. Interesting.

Minutes passed and she soon noticed that she had an bird's eye view of PRT Headquarters. Smiling, her face still a bit flushed and her hair wild from the flight, she directed her projection to land right at the doors, but to avoid any collisions. It did so swiftly and easily, dust and air pushing out as she set foot on the ground. Her heart still beating fast, she focused and her projection vanished, dispersing into silver light.

A smile on her face, she entered the building, greeting some of the office workers and civilians as she did. That had really done wonders for her mood. Still, to business! Casting out with her senses, Evelyn located the two villains and—as she did—noticed that some of the members of the Protectorate were also in that area. 'Score~' She thought happily. She loved seeing them, almost regardless of the situation.

Making her way through HQ she soon heard voices carrying through the hall and to her ears. She tilted her head and continued her approach, noticing Lillian as she did.

She raised her hand, opening her mouth to form a greeting just as Director Kens responsed to Captain Morales.

She slowed, and then stopped. Lillian cut in and confusion flashed across Evelyn's face—she wasn't wearing her mask anymore.

"Please? I know it's the right thing to do."

Her breath caught in her throat, but still she managed to get one word out and that single word—more than anything else she could have said—was filled with such hurt, outrage, disgust, and confusion that it rang almost violently through the hall.

"What?"

There was a question there, but it was rhetorical. Anyone looking at her could tell from her body language, and the look on her face. Eyebrows creased, lips pursed. Anger, disgust, outrage.

Betrayal.

Silver light flashed through the room...then vanished.

Her hands were balled tightly into fists, nails digging into her palms viciously. Her jaw was clenched, teeth grinding faintly. Her throat and chest felt tight and hot as the emotions raged through her. She didn't look like someone who had just been insulted or someone who had misunderstood something and overreacted.

She looked like she was ready for a fight.

⊰Manifest Anima: Planes Divided⊱

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General Interest Check
Casual Interest Check

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Premise

The year is 2051 in the island metropolis of Ominar.

---

Night hung over the ocean like a pall of roiling smoke, the gentle curls of pitch-dark brine batting it away for a brief second before it settled against the still surface again--a dance of two steps executed in rhythmic harmony. The motion of the waves breathed life into the dark, and it encroached readily across the glassine surface of the water until it broke upon the shore of a magnificent island. It lapped upon the shore like a second sea, buffeting the onyx black rock in its clamour for the distant brightness above, but finding no purchase, and sinking back to its lonely duet with the water.

In stark contrast to the murky depths of the island, an effulgent radiance blanketed the distant beyond. Argent lights danced languidly across the glassy windows of the many skyscrapers that pierced the bustling city’s skyline, cavorting with the caliginous hues of night painting themselves where the light could not reach. Wind whistled between the buildings, bringing with it the briny scent of the surf that encompassed the island. Even at night, the city was alive with movement. Sights and sounds radiated from every which way, a unique symphony of cultures and races woven together into a sonorous tapestry that could only be found here, on the shores of the place called Ominar--humanity’s metropolis. A bastion of magic and magitech, and a haven to all three of the races: those born of chaos and discovery--Licentia; those born of order and stability--Prae; and those born somewhere between, with so many choices to make--Humans. A city born of a necessity for both equality and progress. Beneath the velvet blanket of midnight, everyone is equal: but the night does not last forever.

Soon dawn cuts across the depths below and the sky above, smattering its dappled light across the breadth of Ominar. The atmosphere of the city shifted in its wake, from intrigue and mystique to something sterile and refined. In this city, in the harsh brightness of day, money spoke louder than the music of the night. Where cultures once danced together in a cacophony of color and sound the orderly shuffle of business now reigns. Though the streets are still filled with life and movement, it is a much different sort to that which dominates the night--when this city breathes, the world moves to accommodate it.

Though the gentle lustre of the moon delicately frames the interplay of light and shadow, the coruscating sun is harsh, casting its shadow deeper down into the realm of murk and gloom. Beneath this veil the underbelly of the great city churns unending, feeding on everything the daylight scares away and pouring out misery and profit in equal measure. Ominar is a city of progress, built by--and for--those with drive and purpose. It caters not to the mundane, and it suffers not the indolent. And so, as with all things burningly bright, it casts a vast shadow--one whose presence is only made more terrible when weighed against the light it shuns.

Extreme as the cycle may be, it is natural to Ominar. Every nook and cranny filled with shadow, every mote of light in the sky--these are simply part of something greater than themselves, simply part of nature. And yet, even in this great to and fro, there are foreign elements. The ebb of the tide brings with it something neither light nor dark--a vessel borne from faraway shores. Its passengers bear familiar faces, but harbour an unseen intent.

As they step into the bounds of the city, as they alight upon its dock and climb its crested hill, they bring with them the beginnings of something else. A whisper of a wave whets its growing appetite upon the shore, rebounding with greater strength again and again and again.

Though unformed as yet, it is wave that will leave nothing unchanged in its wake.

It is your choice whether this tide wipes the slate clean for you to build an empire atop, or you resist its inexorable push and fight to preserve what is.

How will you fare when history’s reins are thrust upon you?

Information

The below is but a primer, informing you to the races of Manifest Anima. There is much more where this came from!

Humans

Humans are still your generic fantasy race! They have the highest threshold for magic of the three races. Rarely, particularly powerful human mages are born with natural purple hair.

Prae

The prae are a humanoid race that hail from the realm known as Priscus. Prae share many physiological similarities with humans--including vital organs, cellular structure, and endocrine systems--but with a few key differences. Prae are born with a crystal that is located somewhere on their head (almost always the forehead, though exceedingly rare exceptions do exist) that draws in ambient vis from the environment. This sustenance of vis is required in addition to the caloric sustenance they would obtain through other methods, and prae biology is not well-suited to the consumption of vis-infused food or water, so the crystal is a vital part of their biology. The prae ostium is comprised of narrower channels than a human's, also, which leads prae to have reduced innate magical ability. Prae also have markings that occur naturally (originating from their crystal) and represent something important to them. Prae reach maturity at 18, and age slowly from there on out. Depending on the level of ambient vis available to them, they are capable of reaching up to approximately 800 years of age.

Licentia

Licentia are, at their core, beings of chaos and change. Where Prae dwell comfortably in the bedrock of Order, and humans soundly between the two, Licentia are never comfortable and never satisfied with the state of the world… almost as a rule. They are highly individual beings, with no two being quite alike, even within a given species. However, there exist certain things that unite them, no matter what form they take, what magic they wield, or what goals they pursue.

What to Expect

Below are detailed some of the rules, expectations, and of course, themes for the RP.

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• After a GM makes a plot post, we'll wait a week for everyone to make theirs! If you don't make it in a week, we'll keep moving forward--unless you let us know, and we're more than willing to offer you a little extra time. Try not to make it a routine thing, though, because other players rely on you to keep this whole story moving! You're an important piece of the puzzle we're all trying to put together.
• This is, first and foremost, a story that we're all telling. With stories comes growth. Whether that is growth as a person, or growth in power, wealth, or whatever flavour you might prefer, it is a story that is all yours to tell. Your character is important, and we invite you to tell their story along with ours; even if huge plot stuff is happening, your character's life can still have a role, and it should. Big things will happen--whether or not your character has more important things to worry about is up to you, and we invite you to take your plots where you want them to go."
• With the fantastic level of depth in the lore present in Manifest Anima, an equally incredible amount of creativity and variety is made possible. In addition to simply playing with the existing lore, there is always the option of building upon something or creating something new--we want you to be able to take ownership of aspects of the world. If you want to simply play with what we have that’s wonderful, and you are welcome to, but try to keep in mind that the option to make something new and fresh, is always open! Enriching the world and everyone’s experience in it is what we aim to do, and what we aim for you to be able to do as well.
• In Manifest Anima there is a strong focus on interaction, consequences, and player choice. It is designed to evolve with its players and while there is a plan, it can deviate wildly depending on how those involved interact with the world and the elements presented--or implied.
• Active and interactive GM team! We have three people who are genuinely dedicated to this project and want everyone to have a great time. If you’re having trouble, let us know, we’re there to help!