Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Burning Kitty
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An avatar known as MarfulumMonkey started a contest on Planet Doom everyone who agreed to participate would abide by four simple rules.

1. You fight only with the gear you are given, you leave everything else behind. Anyone caught cheating would have every Artifact and every dollar confiscated. Those who survive each round will have their gear changed for the next round.
2. If you die you are barred from coming back for another round.
3. If you fail to kill at least one participant during each round you are eliminated.
4. There can only be one winner.

Everyone member of the Specters of Apocalypse have survived the first three rounds. Two hours before the dawn of round four they are given their new gear.

Ekloria logged in just as she received her new gear. She donned her new gear and she ordered all the Specters to meet on the bridge of their ship.

"The plan remains the same pick off the weakest and let the strongest take each other out. Watch each other's back."

Three hours into the current round the Specters find themselves pushed to a remote area of Planet Doom on the run from another clan twice their size.

Ekloria took cover behind a blown up wall. She popped out every few seconds shooting arrows at the pursuers to cover the rest of their clan. She barely missed one of her clan mates to put an arrow in the face of one their pursuers. “Hurry!”
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by King Cosmos
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It was a bit of an understatement to say that Artorigus was happy with the provided gear for the fourth round of the tournament; after three rounds of being forced to fight using guns and magic and other things he had no interest in the tournament organiser had finally seen fit to equip him with something a little more in his wheelhouse. The decorative samurai-styled armour was a little more restrictive than his usual gear and the katana, although similar in principle to his Okami, was considerably shorter than he was used to. Nonetheless, if everyone was on a level playing field and using the same weapons as him then he was confident he would make it through the next round without issue; it may have been his particular brand of arrogance shining through, but he didn’t think there would be many people in this tournament who could wield this katana and wakizashi better than himself.

****

Arrows. He had forgotten about the arrows.

It probably didn’t come as a surprise to find that most clans preferred not to engage in a messy close range battle, instead preferring the ancient, tried and true tactic of firing mass volleys of arrows at each other. The woefully undersized by comparison Spectres of the Apocalypse had been forced to run, unable to match the larger clans for sheer quantity of firepower.

For the past three hours they had been implementing a constant fighting retreat; run until they opened up some distance between themselves and their pursuers, turn and fire, then run again when they got too close. It wasn’t the kind of battle Artorigus liked to fight but it had kept them alive for now, though that seemed to be about to change as it looked like their pursuers were finally starting to close the gap.

Artorigus covered the clans retreat from the rear while the rest ran to cover, striking down any arrows that he could with his sword; using his Okami’s unique ability had given him plenty of practise at slashing projectiles from the air and although the timing was tighter than he was used to due to the shorter length of his current weapon, on objects as slow moving as these arrows it wasn’t too hard. He couldn’t stop every one however and more than a few managed to slip past him to imperil his fellow Spectres.

A sudden yell from his left caught him by surprise as someone leapt at him from behind a partially destroyed wall; it seemed like some enterprising member from the other clan had managed to rush ahead of the others unseen in an attempt to flank them and was now rushing Artorigus with his sword held high above his head. His loss.

Drawing his wakizashi in one smooth motion Artorigus pivoted towards the charging samurai. With the small dagger in his left hand he deftly deflected the descending sword before following through with a swing of his own, his katana cutting through his opponents arm as easily as it did the air. Now literally disarmed his opponent could only looked shocked as Artorigus brought his sword back around in a horizontal swipe that took the opportunistic samurai’s head from his shoulders.

Seeing that most of the others had already made it to cover Artorigus hurried to follow, vaulting a low wall and landing in a crouch on the other side, suddenly finding himself face-to-face with Ekloria.

“So, what game plan do you think these guys are using? Are they picking us off because we’re weak, or taking us out because we’re strong?”

@Burning Kitty
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by MissCapnCrunch
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MissCapnCrunch Pᴏʟɪᴛᴇ & Pᴇᴄᴜʟɪᴀʀ / Pɪʀᴀᴛᴇ Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss

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If you would have asked Kaptaan what she would have been doing a few weeks ago, it would have not been this, but ever since joining the clan she had pushed her boundaries and found strengths she had never even scratched the surface of. With that aside, this battle was on the exhausting side, their clan surviving the first three rounds, each more difficult than the last.

She aimed and shot a deafening blow through another's face gear as she took to the rest of the clan, their numbers decreasing and their stamina going down along side it. With their leaders cry Elorkia had covered them enough to hide behind the cover of the blown up wall. Artorigus spoke what most were thinking, Kaptaan added in her two cents, "I wouldn't be surprised by either answer." she claimed, a breath escaping her lips as she took a few shots from cover. She watched as a member of their clan take a volleyed arrow to the knee, a bit of an alarming scenario but couldn't help but receive a few chuckles from the surrounding members.

"What's our plan?" Kaptaan asked to Elorkia, wide eyed and ready for instruction.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Burning Kitty
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Ekloria ducked back behind the cover. "Doesn't matter why they are targeting us." Before she could reveal she had no plan for their current situation a rampaging Flood infected Hulk came crashing down it landed on someone chasing the Specters. "For fucks sake. EVERYONE RUN!" She didn't even turn to look. Eventually she found a cave she could see Kaptaan & Artorigus close behind she waved them over.

"What the hell?" Shortly after Kaptaan & Artorigus entered the cave the entrance caved in. "That's either good or bad. I suggest we log out and log in again. Exodus." Ekloria looks around, clearly seeing the exit vocal command didn't work. "Scratch that plan. We clearly can't dig our way out until that monstrosity is no longer around. The rest of the Specters will have to figure their own way out of this mess. Did you see that thing it looked like a Flood infected Hulk that is not possible outside of Halo quests. I am completely out of ideas. The cave seems to have some kind of lighting where it comes from I don't know, I don't see any obvious signs of lights. I think we should go deeper no one has ever mentioned this cave before so there might be loot inside that no one has claimed yet maybe even another way out. What do you think?"
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by King Cosmos
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Artorigus was hot on his clan leader’s heels as she entered the cave, as willing as any sane person would be to get away from the monstrosity now tearing its way across the battlefield. “Looks like our gracious host has a few surprises up his sleeve. Seriously a Flood infection form? And was that the Hulk?” From the cave mouth distant roars and crashes could be heard, along with the occasional scream, as the parasite-infected beast attacked everything in sight. At least from what little he had seen before he ran the thing was more focused on the other clan than the Spectres, turning a losing battle into something survivable; with a little luck the other clan would be wiped out and a few more Spectres would make it out like they had.

“I didn’t hear about anything like that happening in previous rounds; makes me wonder what he’s got planned for the finals. Guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

Looking around the cave as Ekloria spoke Artorigus could indeed see that the cave was filled with some kind of unnatural illumination despite the lack of a visible light source. The idea that it might be someplace unknown was exciting, but unfortunately he had no way of knowing himself; despite all of his talk about being one of Sanctuary’s best close-range fighters he vary rarely took part in the constant death matches that took place on Planet Doom. Unless a special event was going on he didn’t feel confident throwing himself into a unrestricted melee with only one Unique Artefact to his name.

“Something undiscovered on Planet Doom? This is the most popular place in Sanctuary, there’s no way a cave like this goes unnoticed. Unless it was added as part of this tournament. Normally I’d suggest not getting side tracked, but we’ve already got our kills for this round and with that thing rampaging outside we can’t leave. We might as well take a look around while we’re here and wait until the round ends.”

@Burning Kitty@MissCapnCrunch
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Parzivol
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Elsewhere On DOOM...



The gesture he made to execute the fatal strike was simple. Downward arc, two hands. His haptic suit bit tight against his flesh with the movement, as the competition’s armor hung over his Hollow form. It made him anxious to be without his own armaments.

Whichever fool he had just executed groaned as the, “YOU DIED,” effect played against their visor. Yolo Of Londor ignored himself, his anxiety, the way the armor weighed heavy on his shoulders and arms. He was Hollow and needed to remember that. The other world was insignificant and false. Illusory. His goal now was to slay.

Metal scraped against metal, people screamed. There was a rather dense cluster of three clans and a half dozen singletons, the clanless, fighting in close proximity. It was a small ridge with a cliff to the West. The steep drop lead directly to a magma flow. To the East was a completely vertical upward climb. Every dozen or so square feet was a cluster of fighters. Clans were more or less roughly organized and focusing on each other, while the clanless singletons were picking at whomever they wished while fighting their hardest to avoid quick counter attacks.

Footwork was important, and he kept that in mind as he moved across the uneven terrain. Carefully and with a certain amount of experience, he placed his right foot forward and left foot back. It gave away his background in fencing to those that cared to watch the subtleties. The way he swayed showed a breach of his training, though. He was searching for a roll. A gentle opportunity just large enough for him to slip through and gut the similarly dressed PvPer in front of him.

Yolo’s opportunity came when his foe, an Ork, lunged forward and swung clumsily with its katana. His gut instinct was to roll directly into it and follow up with a front dodge attack, but this wasn’t a Dark Souls zone. No immunity frames on dodge roll. When he realized where his mistake was, he was half bent over and waiting for the strike to come down onto him.

He didn’t let it. Instead, he turned his hands upwards and backpedaled. His own blade knocked the Ork’s out of the way, leaving him open. Yolo leaned back in, extending forward with force enough to knock the larger avatar back. The armor in the chest and the weakness of the blade’s stabbing ability didn’t yield him any major success in the strike.

The movements had been messy, and left him open across the back. To ensure the opportunity wasn’t capitalized on, the Hollow stepped forward again into the Ork and swung his blade down across the Ork’s main hand wrist.

The resulting stunned stare gave Yolo time to strike the deathblow across the Ork’s neck.

The simulated blood and viscera misted out into the air and speckled over Yolo’s back and armor as the Ork’s form slumped down and then vanished. Hit points remaining, zero.

Excellent.

With the minimum number of kills needed to get him through to the next round, Yolo was quite content. Carefully, he slinked towards the cliff on his right. Most others were caught up in a fight, giving him plenty of time for to begin the climb. Below him, several noticed.

They began to produce their bows from their inventories and send arrows up the ridge, while the more enterprising individuals took out the archers in melee range for the easy kills. By the time he had scaled the cliff, Yolo had acquired a half dozen arrows in his back and legs.

His health was lower than he’d prefer, but he had done his job. It was an easy enough feat now to shuffle forward and find a small alcove betwixt two rocks. Step one was the removal of the four arrows in his lower legs, and step two from his hideaway was to remove the arrow stuck below his ribs and the arrow embedded in the armoring of his back.

The disadvantage he was at was significant enough to encourage him to remain still and hidden between the two rocks he had found near the cliff. With that plan in mind, he couldn’t help but be relieved. Soon enough he’d win the competition, alone, and get back into his own gear. Perhaps invade in Blighttown once this is all over as a way of blowing off steam.

Yolo pulled his bow out of his inventory and set it on his lap so that he could set his sword just to his side. Once it was out of the immediate way, he held his bow at the ready in case he had to get a pre-emptive strike against anyone with a similar plan to hide away in a hole.

His mind drifted, however. The haptic suit was pinching at his wounds and it was beginning to ache. He needed a break. To stand and stretch and get some water. Check on his brother... The tournament was running long... Time to find a partner and do an Ornstein and Smough cossplay run of the series...

So sat he. His time for victory would come.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Burning Kitty
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The Specters agreed to explore the cave. They quickly found there were only two ways to go, back or forward, there were no side passages at all. The deeper they went the less like a cave it appeared until eventually there was nothing but metal walls not a single rock, pebble, or dust. Ekloria was beginning to have doubts about their idea to explore the cave that was no longer a cave, she didn't show it at least she didn't think she was showing it.

They Specters eventually arrive to a big open room with absolutely nothing in it save for a giant screen. Suddenly the screen came on revealing an old man in a red robe. "If you are seeing this then that means it has escaped. It will infect everyone in the Badlands, nowhere is safe. The inefected must be killed twice once in the Badlands & again in the real world. It is a techno-organic virus it infects your avatar and your body. At time of this video's creation there is a cure, if the creator of the infection has not destroyed the cure there maybe hope. The cure is locked behind a door hidden deep within the Badlands. There are five keys. Humanity must work together to find those keys and to save itself. Two keys are in the Badlands. Two are in the real world. The fifth key is in everyone, to use the key one must sacrifice their life. In you encounter an infected kill it or run, if they were your lover, your mother, your father, your sister, your best friend they are nothing more than an extinction level threat now. If you are in the real world destroy their brain, a mere stab to the face won't do, you must obliterate their entire head. If you are in the Badlands you can kill them with any weapon but the quickest and only guarantee you have of ending the threat is an Anti-Viral Artifact. Anti-Viral Artifacts are being distributed everywhere." The video was broadcasted live to every avatar, every news station, every computer in the world. The rest of the video was played only for the Specters. "Ekloria, Artorigus, Kaptaan you three have been chosen as my champions you must unite humanity or see it go extinct."

Three small doors slid up. Revealing three Anti-Viral Upgrade Icons. The old man spoke again. "These are Anti-Viral Upgrade Icons. They are the only ones in existence. Use them wisely, once every t" The video was cut off. Suddenly the screen is lit up from a light behind them and whoosh could be heard. They had no way out besides to go through the seemingly sideways puddle behind them. Ekloria grabbed one of the icons. "Shit."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by AnneLynch
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AnneLynch A Pirate's Life for Me

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Nancy shut and leaned her head and back against her bedroom door. She closed her eyes and took a long, slow breath. Her emotions then took over, disrupting her attempt to calm herself. Biting her lower lip tightly, she ran and fell on her bed, buried her face deep in her pillow, and screamed. A lower, almost monster like growl was mostly muffled in the pillow rather than a high-pitched wail. Nancy laid face first for a while before turning over and facing the ceiling. She sputtered, allowing senseless bullshit to race through her mind. "I need to meditate."

Username: LOUD_N_PROUD
Password: ********************

LOGIN VERIFIED!


After entering access into Sanctuary, Loud_N_Proud, who would naturally head to the races, felt the need to blow off some steam. Her favorite melee weapon, the buzzaxe, was looking very friendly and thirsty. She confidently made her way to a portal, smirking at the giant, red lit letters above, and went through.

The Thunderdome. A thirty foot dome shaped structure of steel and slaughter placed in the middle of a desert wasteland town. Built like a giant jungle gym, gamer avatars and NPC's alike hung onto the structure, roaring, booing, cheering for the blood-pumping gorefest that ensued within. LNP held her hands and arms wide, taking in the sounds that filled the area. She could feel chills running from her arms and all over her back and legs. "Meditation." She was ready to kill.

After entering her name into the queue, she watched other players fight inside the dome until it was her time to enter.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


LNP was on her third round. Her opponent was a large brute who managed to grab a chainsaw from the top of the dome before his weight snapped the bungee cords he was strapped to. Sure that gave LNP an advantage, still strapped to her bungee cords, but she could only avoid the behemoth for so long until he gets angry and eventually goes full on rampage mode. She got a hold of a spiked mace, another one of the few weapons the Thunderdome offered its gladiators. Hanging onto the side of the dome with one hand, she observed her opponent, executing a time to strike.

Taking too much time out of combat caused the NPCs, perched on the other side of the dome, to push LNP back into the fight. "Fuck!" she hissed, dropping fast at what she thought was going to be GAME OVER. "Shiiiiiiiiiiit!" she roared loudly, raising the spiked mace above her head, hoping luck was on her side. She swung at the brute and felt the bungee cords pull her back, watching the brute fall along with another large creature on top of it. Her eyes went wide, recognizing the avatar as Krieg, but something was off. "Oh no." The Krieg avatar was flood infected.

Avatars scattered from the dome. "He-HEY! Don't fucking leave me up here! Help!" She called out. She looked down in panic at the Flood infested Krieg, who's attention was still focused on ending her opponent for the time. LNP looked around, thinking. Without hesitation, she grabbed onto one set of bungee cords at her side and tried climbing until she reached a bar of dome she could grab onto. Pulling herself in an awkward seated position, she pulled her buzzaxe from her inventory and began slashing at the bungee cords until she broke free. She put her buzzaxe away and kept a hold of the mace until she got down from the Dome.

LNP jumped from a safe distance onto the ground and pulled her buzzaxe out again, still with the mace in the other hand. The Krieg was standing in the middle of the dome, staring at her. She felt her heart skip a beat. She froze. Of all characters, why? Why Krieg? Never did LNP think that she would face her favorite 'hunting buddy'. She prayed that if she stood still, the effects would be similar to the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

"I POWDERED MY COCKATIEL FOR THE RIBCAGE SLAUGTHER!"

The Flood infected Krieg charged, laughing psychotically. It rammed its body into the dome over and over. The screaming continued. His body morphed, twisted, and grew. Then it's voice changed, becoming monstrous and almost demonic like. "I WILL PUT MY PAIN INTO YOUR SOUL!" Somehow, the Krieg was able to activate its Silence the Voices skill, becoming bigger and stronger than he already was to begin with. His hands grabbed onto the skeleton of the dome and began pulling it apart, roaring.

LNPs immediate decision was to switch her inventory and pull out a grenade, toss it, and high tail it out of the area and back to Sanctuary.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by CaptainSully
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CaptainSully 🆆🅸🆃🅷🅸🅽 / 🆃🅷🅴 🆁🆄🅸🅽🆂

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Location: | Personal Apartment - The Citadel - Mass Effect Universe
Tags: | @Burning Kitty


For a long time Ataxia had been fond of the Mass Effect universe, the variety of the races and the beauty of the worlds within it. The Citadel acted as a hub for the other locations that could be visited, providing transit as well as plenty of shopping opportunities. One of the benefits of the Citadel was the ability to purchase accomodation, a safe place to store all your accrued items. Other avatars can be invited around to explore your abode and take a look at your collections but they are all restricted to your account meaning that they cannot be stolen. Ultimately, the views and the experience the universe provided was the reason he purchased an apartment. It was quite expensive in terms of cash but was far short of the truly extravagant homes like castles and what not.

His life outside Sanctuary was far from enjoyable and something he never discussed when logged in as his avatar. He mistakenly divulged his real world nickname once but beyond that his identity has remained a secret. He keeps the real world and Sanctuary separate, if the two ever combined he feared what would happen to him. He wasn't a criminal but he just knew that people would treat his avatar entirely different.

He was sat on his virtual couch watching TV when the retro showing of Godzilla: King of Monsters was interrupted by an old man. He spoke strangely and warned everyone of an impending epidemic of some kind. Ataxia raised an eyebrow and thought nothing more of it when Godzilla returned to his screen. As Godzilla, Rodan and Mothra fought against the monstrous Ghidorah Ataxia couldn't shake the old man's words from his head. In all his time in Sanctuary he had never seen that old man and the only people that ever interrupted were recognised administrators and moderators. Maybe there was some truth to his words...

Ataxia tapped at his omni-tool and from it rose a holographic screen. He scrolled through the various options until he stumbled across clan invites. There sat an invite from a clan called Specters of the Apocalypse. He had received it a few days prior but had decided to mull it over for a few days. The invite came from an avatar called Ekloria and the clan itself was in it's infancy and rather small. However it was the only invite he had received even though he was starting to make a name for himself. He looked back at his TV for a moment, If that wizard was telling the truth I don't want to be going up against this alone. Without hesitation Ataxia pressed the accept button on the holographic display. All he had to do now was wait to here from the one called Ekloria.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Double
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Wing-Man

Location: Mute City - F-Zero Universe
Tags: @Burning Kitty


Mute City was a veritable hotspot for racing enthusiasts. All different kinds of Races were held here and in other locations of the F-Zero universe. Some of them could be deadly, either due to enemy racers or unforgiving turns requiring peak reflexes. While big events like the Grand Prix Race were sometimes hosted, smaller randomized races were open at pretty much all times. It was in one such randomized race that Wing-Man currently found himself. He'd won his Blue Falcon F-Zero Machine a few weeks back, and had been quick to use it to dominate as many races as he could. It was a damn good machine: fast, good handling, good defensive systems. He had given it his own custom paint job, but otherwise he didn't have to tune it up all that much. Must have been a testament to its status as an iconic racing machine in this particular universe.

"Ha! Eat slag, slowpokes! I own this race!" the voice could be heard on open comms between all the racers, and it belonged to the Avatar piloting the coveted Blue Falcon, Wing-Man. The F-Zero machine was a blur of speed as Wing-Man hit the boosters, it almost looking like it was leaving behind a fiery trail due to the flame vinyls on its top and sides. In his boosting, Wing-Man practically sideswiped a fellow racer as he zoomed past them, causing them to nearly lose control and crash. With this, Wing-Man found himself ahead of the pack and smiled to himself as he knew that meant the race would soon be his. But as the finish line came into view, Wing-Man noticed something... off. People that were previously watching the race were suddenly paying more attention to something else. Behind him, racers were coming to stop and exiting their machines to look up at one of the many giant viewing monitors. Wing-Man also stopped, but only after crossing the finish line.

"Yo, where's my trophy? What's the deal?" he reached up and pulled off his sunglasses as he decided to see what all the hub-bub was about. That was when he saw the message from the robed old man. After taking everything in, Wing-Man let out a good laugh, "Really? That's what has everyone in a tizzy? Come on, it's just some new event! What are you people so afraid of?" Well enough of that, the prize for the race appeared in his gift inbox. Wing-Man was quick to accept it.

"Score!" he said, realizing what it was. In was an Arm Cannon! Fully upgraded, too! This would go quite nicely with his Varia Suit, "Well, legit or not, at least I scored a free Arm Cannon out of the deal. Can't argue with that." he'd been wanting an Arm Cannon for some time, having acquired his Varia Suit a while back but it feeling rather incomplete without the weapon to go with it. That meant the next thing he should be looking into was a Gravity Suit Upgrade, and eventually a Phazon Suit. Then he'd really be able to kick ass like the Bounty Hunter this stuff originally belonged to. He couldn't resist, so Wing-Man immediately equipped the Arm Cannon along with the Varia Suit so he could check himself out while fully equipped. He gave a low whistle while looking at his reflection. Despite Samus obviously being a woman, her armor could look absolutely amazing on anyone, regardless of gender. This little event was, unfortunately, distracting Wing-Man from remembering that he was supposed to be meeting someone fairly soon. Also he hardly even noticed the weapon also being tagged as "Anti-Viral", just like the old man in the robe said.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Parzivol
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Crevice in the shade...



The haptic suit was actually hurting now. The wounds burned against the open air, and the loose chunks of shrapnel and shards of stone that had scattered back into the small hide-away. It was pulling him out of the experience. It should have been a battle. Someone should have come by at this point.

He shrugged his shoulders, and shook loose dust and exhaustion. With a will of their own his feet and hands dragged him from his hovel, and he grabbed his blade. It found himself fixed firmly between his ribs and into his lungs and heart. It was a singular, careful incision. His health point indicator dropped sharply. The scent tower in the corner of his room showed him the richness and redness that was blood. His own blood. When he wrenched the blade up, it carved through his form. The pinching and pain brought deep by the blade and the haptic suit faded as his favorite red text brought itself across his screen. A rich, vibrant, crisp image. It meant home to him. His investment in that tournament had been minimal anyhow.


Kirt knocked his visor up and tugged at the zipper of the haptic suit. He had cracked his system so that he could walk away when he needed to. By the time he had returned from his exodus into sunlight, he’d be back at his version of Firelink Shrine. His default spawn location. His, as he saw it, home away from flesh and blood.

Carefully, he waited for the dizziness to fade away. His head ached a bit, and he swayed. Rather than fall, he caught himself on his dresser. After it passed, he continued into the hallway. His hands traced the walls of his home, dragging along the moulding around the doors as he passed. When he finally met his stairs, he walked down them. His younger brother, now seventeen, was watching television on the coach with his Sanctuary gear and haptic gloves to the side. The news was on. A pair of anchors were babbling about some incident downtown.

Hey. You alright?

“Yeah.

Cool. Mom home from the store yet?

“Yeah. She’s working in the garage.”

Rad. Tell her I got water and I love her.

“Will do.”

Kirt drifted off at that. To the fridge. He hoped quietly that his father had filled the fridge sometime recently. Being a content developer for the Sanctuary was a good gig, sure, but it often kept him out of the house pulling long nights. Designing video game content had become harder since the Sanctuary. Less video games and more culture being introduced. Professional content designers were fading more rapidly as well due in large part to the ease of access into the occupation. Connections got him a corporate content design job, however. Kept him and the family stable and awake.

He got a water bottle from the fridge and stepped away, leaning over the nearby coach to watch the news with his brother. He watched carefully as the Old Man In Red appeared. He decided immediately that Omir was one of the content developers or a lead content developer with Sanctuary’s ownership company. Or some similarly important figure. The speech ended, and he walked up stairs.

Watch Twitter and Facebook and what have you. Call Dad and Mom if it turns out to be true. Text Dad now, make sure he heard. I’m gonna go run Darksouls offline. Don’t worry about me. Come tell me what’s up if you spot anything odd.” He was lying. He didn’t play Dark Souls offline. Ever.

Stepping back into his room, a veritable mess of toys, figurines, and various brands of Sanctuary interface gear. His chair sat open, and the scent tower was putting out old stone and grass. That was suggestive of Firelink. As suggestive of it as possible.

There were implications that Kirt, soon again to be Yolo Of Londor, didn’t like about this supposed techno-organic thing. How did it infect people through the game, for one. Didn’t seem scientifically sound. Something like a scent tower could do it, but as far as he knew most people didn’t play with scent towers because of where they landed on the financial burden side of things. Construct the pathogen inside the scent tower. It was more or less a chemical manufacturing tool, wasn’t it? That seemed the most likely thing. He walked over to it, and unplugged it from the wall. Once he figured out a potential cause other than it, he’d plug it back in. For now he’d search his favorite invasion locations for an example of one of these infected things.


Yolo woke up with a close friend placing a gentle, warm hand on the cold shoulder that belonged to him. It was an NPC, yes, but he couldn’t help but feel a connection to it. They were exceptionally designed machines. They rarely repeated answers. It was good to have something that felt so attached to his favorite world.

“Hello? You alright, friend?”

The withering old pilgrim glanced over Firelink. It was Firelink Classic. He preferred it to the Firelink present in the third Souls game. Regardless, the pyromancer would have been there. There was something about the way he talked. A cadence to it. An honesty. An altogether genuine personality. He was mandatory to any run. Even the speed runs that would have forgone him completely. As far as the Pilgrim was concerned.

Excellent, Laurentius. Just broke from a particularly souring invasion. Dozens of fools clustered together fighting along a ridge. Myself among the, but I’d been disarmed. A ponce was using some old Velkan sorcery that was putting spells out completely. Dreadful. I used a black soapstone to make myself scarce.” He pivoted, using his sword to help support the massive weight on his back. It was difficult to move with it. But move he did. Carefully.

“Oh. Well, remember to be safe, friend. Do you need pyromancies?”

No. Good bye, Laurentius, my friend. Don’t you dare go Hollow.” Laurentius nodded and smiled. Once the Pilgrim Yolo had turned his head, Laurentius went idle. NPCs were never perfect. These were old ones. He didn’t expect much from any of them. Laurentius still made the old Hollow smile, though.

Old Hollow. It was odd that Yolo Of Londor called himself that. He always did enjoy putting himself into the game as fully as possible.


Quelaag shuddered, and the chaotic energies pouring out of every wound and orifice burned at the fading corpse. The Soul counter in Yolo’s bottom right vision began to tick up the valid 60,000 point reward. His screen ignited in the golden, “You Won,” text that he dreaded so harshly. No challenge. He was hit once during the encounter, and it barely shaved a sixth off of his health bar. Each of his strikes was worth dozens of Quelaag’s own, considering how solid his defenses were and how thorough his offensive was. The result was a board grunt. He turned around and dug around in his bag. After a moment of searching his inventory, which appeared to him as a well organized rucksack that slung over his side, he found his Mound-maker trinket and equipped it. Then, he retrieved his Red Eye Orb.

Invasions were what motivated him most greatly. They always presented some kind of challenge. Backstab fishers, parry fishers. All of them were challenges to some extent. Pyromancers were his favorite to face, sorcerers his least. They all still brought him pleasure through the challenges that they represented.

Once he activated the orb, his session began searching. Invasion orbs worked slightly differently when used from within a Dark Souls session. They kept you within a Dark Souls game and tossed you into a leveled session specifically to ensure a fair challenge. This one did just that. The Mound-maker artifact he was wearing just made PvP easier for him in Dark Souls, allowing him to target both helper phantoms and physical players for a chance to gain rewards. When the brief loading screen flashed by, he was in upper Blight Town standing on a bridge in a key part of the zone, by the only reliable Bonfire respawn point.

He hated running this zone on his own, but he enjoyed killing others in the zone. That was his plan for today. His target’s name flashed across his view. “Sk88rh8r,” had a phantom with him, indicated by the accompanying, “Kill Sk88rh8r or 1 summoned phantom,” text. When his view was completely clear, he was able to get a good look at his surroundings. A blue phantom was leaned against a wall while a rather bloated and disgusting looking Host clawed at him. The blue phantom was an ally, so none of the Host’s attacks were interacting. A red phantom was standing by the bonfire, staying just at a safe distance. They were talking, and Yolo had arrived in the middle of a conversation. He caught the tail end.

Blue was speaking first. “Yeah. He hasn’t stopped since I was summoned.

Red next. “And he’s torn up three others? Just with his hands like that?

Right. I haven’t had to lift a finger, but it also isn’t sending me home. I think he must have cracked some knuckles before going down into Blight Town. I swear a guy is hiding around somewhere.

So do you wanna help me kill him? If you grab him with your hands it might enable collision and I should be able to backstab him and give you time to retreat and draw your weapon.

None of these three people that maintained their sanity had ever played HALO before. They didn’t recognize the Flood infection. It looked natural in the world of Dark Souls. It seemed more to be some sort of hidden artifact item than anything else. It put their guards down. They forgot about the transmission that had been blasted out to each of them.

“Hello, you three. I’m Yolo Of Londor. Might I provide aid of some sorts? If this fool is as attacking his own Blue sentinel then I’d say we take him down with quickness.”

The pair looked up, taking their focus off of the infected player. His avatar’s fingernails were scraping against the wall, and the sound was dreadful. A constant snapping and drawing and bending and scraping. Chalkboard had nothing on this disgusting creature. It was dreadful in just about every possible meaning of the word. It held Yolo’s attention for a moment. By the time his head was clear, his new allies were nodding and readying their maneuver. The red phantom drew a chaos-infused dagger and equipped an artifact called the Hornet Ring. He stood close behind the finicky infected, while the blue phantom set his hands forward in the air, over the infected’s shoulders.

Why the hell not. You only live once, right?” Blue was dressed in Darkwraith armor, so his smile and chuckle was mostly inferred based on the way he shifted and moved, and the accompanying laughter. Red, who was wearing Farron Knight armor, nodded affirmatively and quietly. Yolo stepped closer and held his sword above his head, while he prepared to quickly cast affinity as a follow up.

Blue brought his hands down onto the infected host’s shoulders, and collision enabled. Immediately Blue began to scream in a rather unholy manner as the player ripped into him. The feedback on the haptic gear would have resulted in a similar startled shreek, but the cause to this particular one was the physical shock of the virus being introduced into Blue’s physical system. Red moved quick, stepping forward to stab the creature in the back. The resulting damage was minimal, and the normal backstab mechanics for this worldspace didn’t kick in. Instead, the creature flung a bloated arm against red. He grunted as his head struck stone. The flood infected player turned his attention, in a panicked rage, towards Yolo. Before it had an opportunity to enact a full lunge, he had knocked it downwards with a stroke by The Long Crusade. It did little against the creature. When affinity kicked in, it was slightly more effective. The barrage of eight humanity-sprites staggered the creature through pure numbers.

Blue was panting, and took the opportunity to cycle through his inventory and draw a weapon. A Bloodlust katana. From the Mound-makers covenant. Coincidence is fruitful. Blue read through its item description, and as he felt the physical twitches set his ingame and real-world movements off-kilter, he drew it from his inventory. Once in his hand, he tossed it directly into the infected player. It slid through, creating a strong wound and lodging itself in. The resulting animal sounds from the infected creature were unsettling. Yolo stepped back, spacing himself out from the temporarily dazed creature. Blue was twitching and losing control, and similar growths were sprouting from his wounds. Red stood and produced his Farron Knight Greatsword and its accompanying dagger. With ferocity, he lunged forward. The technique for the weapon was fluid and wild. Artful and untamed. It represented well the Undead Legion’s attitude towards the Abyss. It was useless. Rather than executing an excellent and dangerous maneuver, he was grabbed mid-air by the creature he hadn’t even the chance to dig his dagger into the ground so that he might redirect his momentum into a powerful blow. Red’s neck was held tight by a bloated and warped hand. He was struggling to breath. Instead of swearing or grumbling in anger, he gagged. To Yolo, this only indicated a high quality haptic suit. It was the virus again, though. Lacerations on the avatar’s neck was allowing the infection to enter uninhibited.

Yolo took the opportunity to lunge forward for the Bloodlust in the Flood infected player’s back. It seemed to have actually harmed it. It was the only blade that caused a wound, anyhow. He grabbed it by the hilt, and pressed it deeper. He had to put his back into it right proper to avoid the crushing weight of his Pilgrim’s Burden. It was dreadfully annoying but it was important for his total comfort in the world. It was a situation like this where he needed all of his hands that made things hard. Normally in combat he would scramble along the ground and perform heavily defended strikes or cast affinity from the safety of his Burden, but today he was forced on a heavy offensive. The blade slid deeper as he leaned against the flooded player, and slid cleanly upwards and outwards as he sliced a massive gash through the player. Whatever the weapon’s special property was, it was effective. The creature fell to its knees as its right shoulder fell away into a mass of gore and flesh. Dark Souls had no qualms with letting players see something of such a nature. Yolo was both proud of the work, and a little disturbed. The Kirt behind the visor was a little disturbed. But he was Yolo at the moment, so he was proud as the zero-health creature faded away. Large text flashed across the screen. Golden. It made him proud this time.

“Host Destroyed, Returning Home.”

Blue was now standing, covered in a similar mass of viscera and growths as the host. He was making garbled animal sounds, again like the host. Yolo gave him no time to adjust, and simply cut a red-thin line from left shoulder to right pelvic bone. Red lunged next, receiving similar treatment.

“Sorry, my fellow Hollows. Hopefully that stuff will get off your avatars once this odd event passess. Your vertebra shackles will be well kept. Toodles.”

They screeched as they dissolved into mist. Then, Yolo did as well when he was returned to his own session. Death had looked him in the eyes and offered him a simple, “I’m coming for you,” and he had ignored the threat and instead appreciated the sword.


“Anti-Viral. Does that mean anything to you, Laurentius?”

"No, friend."

"Hmph. Must be the event then."

"Perhaps... Would you like any pyromancies? I have the time."

"Eh."
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by King Cosmos
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As the screen faded to black and the portal opened up behind them Artorigus let out a sigh and crouched down, staring at the place where the robed figure had just been displayed a moment ago. “This isn’t part of the tournament is it?”

Tapping a finger on the hilt of his katana, Artorigus let the rhetorical question hang in the air as he thought. This place, whatever it was, resembled a Halo installation, which fit with the Flood infected thing they’d seen outside and probably meant it had something to do with all of this. Whatever this ‘infection’ was must be based on the Flood from the Halo franchise. What the Flood was doing here on Planet Doom though, far away from the Halo based worlds was anyone’s guess.

Springing up from his crouch suddenly Artorigus strode forward and took one of the remaining Anti-Viral Icons, turning it over and over in his hand; it looked like a badge of some kind, something to be worn or attached to something else. “Did we accidentally trigger another quest? Sounds like a pretty big one whatever it is; admin event maybe? Pretty unfair of them to hi-jack a private tournament to announce it though.”

Turning towards the others he switched his attention from Ekloria to Kaptaan to see if they had anything to add. However, before they could say anything he was distracted by a private message notification, then another, and then another until the message alert became a constant noise. Opening up his menu to see what was going on Artorigus was surprised to see messages from almost everyone in his contacts list, often several, asking about the quest they had just received.

“Yeah, it must be a Sanctuary-wide event. We weren’t the only ones to see that message. Looks like it was broadcast everywhere, not just here but the real world as well; the part with our names wasn't included though. Too bad, it would have been cool to be famous.”

@Burning Kitty@MissCapnCrunch
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"Kaptaan grab that other one. Only way out is that vertical floating puddle thingamabob. So....." Ekloria stuck her arm through it and pulled it out. "Didn't disintegrate my arm. Guess it's safe." She stepped through. She looked around. "Hunh?!" She stuck her head back through. "The other side is our base. We should get back and load up on our normal equipment. The contest shit ain't worth crap. Also the score board I set up has everyone but us listed as error. I think they maybe infected. IF robe guy is right we need to recruit. I'm sending out invites to everyone I have ever met that hasn't already clanned up. I suggest you do the same, I don't think this is a normal quest." Ekloria went back to the base and immediately went to her room. She took off the crap and threw it away. She donned her stuff. Using the Omnitool she started sending out invitations to everyone. "Cool got one acceptance from a few days ago." She sent the invite link for the base.

Ekloria checked on the contest host. "Error? Also had a Hulk artifact. The infected Hulk must be the contest host." She sent a DM to the surviving Specters to expect Ataxia and that she was logging off to check on the real world."

In the real world Ekloria turned on the news. There were reports from all over the world of people savagely attack each other. The attackers were momentarily staggered when hit by random weapons. One took a frying pan to the face and kept going. Ekloria barricaded the room as best as possible and reentered Sanctuary.

Ekloria found the others. "Robe dude wasn't lying. You should log out and secure your locations. While your here your body is vulnerable. Once you do that come back, then we can...fuck I have no clue. We need more intel robe guy wasn't very forthcoming." She began thinking about Anti-Viral artifacts. She checked the markets for them. "Shit Anti-Viral Artifacts are going for exorbitant prices. The three of us couldn't afford half of one if pooled our money together."
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Burning Kitty
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Mainframe was the test bed for the Badlands program. It was a closed platform if you weren't given access you couldn't find it or even knew about it. The creators of the Badlands, The Holy Trinity of Gaming, gave a select few access to Mainframe. When Sanctuary finally gave in and decided to incorporate the Badlands into Sanctuary legitimately, The Holy Ghost of the Holy Trinity of Gaming was fully against it. He fought it tooth and nail. When he lost he felt betrayed by The Father and The Son. His betrayal festered and boiled on the surface. He created a computer virus and uploaded it to his avatar. From there it spread. The Father and The Son placed the most advanced security system around Mainframe. Once your avatar enters Mainframe it can never go anywhere else. The avatars of Mainframe, The Guardians, were at war with the computer virus. They developed the Anti-Viral Artifacts and Anti-Viral Icons.

Sixty five days ago, the Guardians had dwindled down to only three. Shortzoom one of the final three Guardians found a way to escape. In doing so that traitor opened up the entirety of Sanctuary to the computer virus. Manticore and Tinyboom found Shortzoom's escape route, before they could seal it to many had poured through. The Guardians had failed. There was only one option left, Manticore and Tinyboom the nuclear option. At the heart of Mainframe was a digital nuclear bomb. Once the Manticore and Tinyboom armed and began the countdown they went to the escape route so they could hunt down Shortzoom and bring him to the Guardian's justice. Before they could leave they were overrun. Manticore barely made it to the escape route, the last thing Manticore saw before he stepped through was Tinyboom being dogpiled on by hundreds of the computer viruses. Manticore stayed by the exit on the other side until the countdown reached zero, meaning Mainframe was gone forever and Tinyboom with it.

Manticore looked around where he was. It was a weird ring world. It was inhabited by weird creatures that attacked him. He killed them, upon inspection he realized a horrible truth, they were infected with The Holy Ghost's computer virus. They had become even deadlier.

Ever since then he has been looking for Shortzoom and the upgraded computer virus. The upgraded computer virus was harder to find, it went underground. Manticore was in a hub world when the video of the robe man took over every screen. "Tinyboom survived? It's not possible. It must be Shortzoom stealing Tinyboom's appearance. It has to be him Shortzoom, it just has to be." He overheard some one talking about the Specters of the Apocalypse recruiting. He was going to need a new group of warriors to help in this fight. That person rejected the invitation. Manticore sought them out.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by King Cosmos
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Dropping the contest-given sword on the ground Artorigus followed his clan leaders’ example and stepped through the portal in to the Spectres clan ship, the strange device depositing him in a communal area somewhere near the crew quarters. A quick glance around showed him that the only other person there was Ekloria, none of the other clan members had returned yet and if what their leader said was correct none of them would be; it was hard to believe this infection was anything other than some weird debuff, no matter what the guy in the robe had said. Maybe this quest was just a big game of infection, one of those specialised matches held on Planet Doom sometimes where whenever someone died they joined the other team. If people really were infected they might be locked out of the clan for the duration of this quest.

Artorigus headed towards his quarters in the crew section to retrieve his normal gear, removing the samurai armour as he walked. Upon reaching his room he opened up his menus again and began sending out clan invites to everyone he had ever met which, since he had travelled far and wide in search of weapons was quite a few people; of particular note was a guy who frequented the Dark Souls areas of Sanctuary, wearing some weird amalgamation of armour and generally taking the RP side of things a little far, and another guy who called himself a mage and was trying to make a magic-only build work in a game that seemed determined to make that as hard as possible. They were both kind of eccentric but given his own peculiarities he supposed he couldn’t say much.

Returning to the communal area with his gear in tow, Artorigus sat down on a couch and waited until Ekloria returned. “My place is safe already; I wouldn’t risk spending so much time here if I didn’t think it was. If I can trust it to keep burglars out I can trust it now.”

At the mention of Anti-Viral Artefacts he leaned back in his seat and opened up the store for himself, letting out a whistle as he saw the prices even the weakest Anti-Viral Artefacts were going for. “This guy’s really got everyone in a panic; no way are we getting our hands on one of those without a fight. If we can’t buy them then we’ll have to earn them, through quests or some other way. We’ll have to avoid the most obvious places too, since they’ll be swarming with people looking to get one for themselves.” Closing the store Artorigus turned to his clan leader as he thought about the kind of places that might be giving away Anti-Viral Artefacts. “We could try the Megaman worlds? The Battle Network series was all about fighting viruses, the computer kind at least; might be a few options there. Or since this is based on the Flood we could always just go to the Halo and farm for some Sentinal Beams; those things are a dime a dozen.”

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"Not to familiar with Battle Network version of Mega Man. I was always more into Mega Man X. I was this close to getting the X Buster, some prick pulled a dirty trick at the last second. I heard about this old cartoon from some company out of Canada it was all about computer sprites fighting viruses. Can't find anything about it anywhere surprising considering pretty much everything has something in Sanctuary. Hell even the most hated Star Wars thing ever created, Star Wars Holiday Special is featured, of course with better graphics."

Ekloria checked her messages. "There is a contest giving away Anti-Virals, unspecified how many. Survival of the fittest type thing. Only problem is the dude who created it took the movie Water World and mixed in pretty much every shark disaster movie ever. Top survivors get an Anti-Viral weapon. We could use Kaptaan's The Wicked Wench. Exact details on how to win are not provided. No clue how to find any of the keys yet so I think we should work on getting some more appropriate weapons. I vote we go with Battle Network over being eaten alive by sharks, even if it's not permanent I don't want to see the inside of a shark. If we go with Battle Network, Artorigus I think you should take point you are more familiar with it. We also need to find out how these Anti-Viral Upgrade Icons work. Robe said once every t. That could be every two hours, two days. No indication how long the effect lasts once applied, fingers crossed for permanent but not counting on it. Does it work on armor or just weapons? All Anti-Viral artifacts in the store have been weapons, so I am thinking they only work on weapons."
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