We Are Our Avatars V (Closed)

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Welcome to WAOA 5. The latest incarnation of this RP and hopefully a little different experience from the previous threads. Hope you enjoy your time in this thread. :3

Now for some rururules!


The premise is simple.
Your character is your avatar.
They have the same powers, personality etc.
Amendment: Additionally OCs (Original Characters) are allowed, just find an image for your avatar that best represent them. But remember to make sure they fit the rules.


Be Warned. Doesn't Detail Everything That Happened in Previous WAOA threads.

We have a chat group. So, go us.

Very Active and Fun.

You have to contribute to the plot in some way.
Either by adding to a conversation, fighting, or getting past obstacles (picking locks, hijacking cars etc).

You control your character ONLY.
You can't use other players' characters. UNLESS: the character is plot-necessary, but the player is unable to post (must act in character. If you are in this position, it would help if you asked another player beforehand to take over your character).
Amendment: :3

No Over-Powered Characters
-Characters can't instant-kill other characters (killing should be pre-decided)
-Characters should be weakened if they attack too often
-Characters shouldn't have too many different combat moves.
And please try to explain powers simply. You may be a genius on your character's universe, but other players may never have even HEARD of them before.

No excessive posts
Just saying
"Dave opened the door and turned on his torch. He looked around and saw the desk, with the plans on it."
is good enough. We don't need a few paragraphs about his thoughts and feelings, and an accurate description of the room and plans.

Spoiler Tags
One little note:


This RP is probably going to contain at least minor spoilers from character universes, like references to who can live or die in Mass Effect or what happens in the most recent Bourne book or film. Please don't react negatively: it might affect the character in a big way, and you could end up confused as to why the character is acting 'out of character' from your perspective.
But that's not what I want to talk about. USE SPOILER TAGS FOR VIDEOS, PICTURES (Unless they're small) AND LARGE AMOUNTS OF TEXT

Things you should know
-OOC means Out Of Character. Use this if you want to ask a question or make a suggestion.
-Use @[player name]: to address a character specifically.
OP means over-powered.
-Use italics for thoughts. [*i]text[*/i] without the *
-If a player missed a few pages, please give them a summary (a few lines explaining what you did since their last post).
-If you have to leave, either kill your character or put them On A Bus (give a valid reason for them to leave, ie they fell into a temporary wormhole).
-My word is law (you could say, I am the law). If you think a character is OP, take it up with me. I will make a judgement.
Posts MUST Make Sense
-If it isn't from your character's universe, they don't know what it is.
-If you break this rule, the nonsensical post is retconned.
-For multiple characters use different coloured text or reference their names when speaking to distinguish between them.

Some Final Points:

There will be an over-arching thread plot as well as smaller side plots alongside even though it may not be immediately obvious. However that doesn't mean side plots can't be created by other players so feel free to express interest. Although just take into consideration the events going on in the RP at the time you conceive of your own plot before starting it as we don't want the thread to become overrun with plots leading to everyone getting confused.
Additionally, you're not on Earth anymore.

Setting/Starting Point will be up in a bit.

The Setting

A new place, new adventures and new opportunities.

A young woman sits with her back against a tree situated in what seems to be the middle of nowhere. Surrounding her on all sides is desert with a sandstorm currently raging around her, although strangely the area around and underneath the tree seems to be unaffected by the storm. As the storm rages on, the atmosphere seems to be slowing changing as if it was being charged however the woman takes no notice of this as she seems per-occupied with bobbing her head to something. Then within the storm various eddies and whirls alien to it begin forming as foreign objects begin appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Electricity crackles in the desert as a sphere of blue energy appears and a man's silhouette can be seen in it. After a moment the sphere disappears revealing a blue haired man with blue eyes, an orange scarf, and a sword.

"It worked?" The man looked around. "Or did it? I don't recognize this place. It doesn't look like any land I've been to. Not even the Lost Shore. Where did Momo's device send me? Is this the Desert of Death? Why would it send me here?"

He begins to walk towards the tree, as he spots it.

OOC: So, setting=desert? Okay.

Bryce clawed his way out of the sandrift, coughing up the foreign substance. "Holy" *Cough Cough* "Shit!" He reaches into one of his duster pockets and pulls on a bandana, wrapping it tightly over his nose and mouth. He then looks throught the storm, trying to find sanctuary.


You and your scarf-wearing characters...

Over the howling wind, obscured by the blinding sand, came another sound, a loud, constant, low pitched drone. Almost aas soon as it started, it began to lose consistency, rising and falling alarmingly in pitch. Suddenly there was a pair of loud whumps and a chunky, tiltjet aircraft came streaking out of the Aeolian curtain. Both its jets were ablaze, and it was yawing wildly. For a moment it attempted to pull up, but then it ploughed into a wide interdune with a massive thump, dredging up a great furrow in the sand, littered with scraps of flaming wreckage. The machine itself came to rest at teh avalanche face of a towering dune and lay there, the crackling flames the only sound it made.

OOC: Anyway...

A man stumbles though the storm, trying to keep the sand out of his mouth and eyes with his hands as much as possible.

Bryce gazed through the swirls and spied someone else crawling through the storm. He stumbled forward and pressed a blue bandana over his hands. "Try that!" He yelled, trying to let himself be heard over the storm. He heard the crash and saw the strange jet come down. "Aw hell." he muttered, before picking his way over to it.

A man in a clown suit strolled down the desert, seemingly ignorant of the swirling storm surrounding him, instead focused directly at one spot. Upon further examination, while he was indeed walking, his steps were slightly above the ground and he appeared to be walking in the middle of the air.

His teeth were sharper than one might normally expect and they were all canine teeth. His clown suit varied between all black and a checkerboard pattern of black and white that made him seem outlandish to all. His suit was completed by two puffy jester crowns that extended to his left and right.

A purple-black portal opens within a sandstorm just above a dune, giving off sparks of lightning. It dissipates as a young guy faceplants into the sand. Getting up and shaking off the sand, he pulls the hood of his jacket up and zips it up. "Tch. Ness could've made that a little less painful..." He grunts as he pulls his beanie down to almost cover his eyes as he struggles through the sandstorm. A large black chain on his right arm rustles like a prisoner's handcuffs as he trudges through toward the tree in the clearing.

The blue haired man makes his way to the clearing, and pulls the scarf down from his face. He looks at the tree in the middle of the area, not even noticing the girl. "Yggdrasil?"

OoC: @Outis: Problem with scarfs?

OOC: that awkward moment when you change your avatar for this thread, only for the escapist to decide that it will no longer accept my computer attempting to change avatars...


Were you interacting with my character?

OoC: @Outis: Problem with scarfs?

No, it's just a funny theme you tend to have.

OoC @Outis yeah.

The tiltjet lay inclined to one side with one wing almost snapped off, the angled thruster swinging limply in the breeze, emitting a steady series of clicks as it cooled. The flames were dying, rapidly smothered by the driving sand. As Bryce approached it, he would see the serial number 800/ B-EE stamped on the fuselage near the cockpit, and on the badly warped sliding hatch further back, a single word: SARIF. Suddenly, there was a deep, hollow bang within the fuselage. Then another. Then a black gloved fist punched through one of the mangled seams of the door and began to shove it aside with great effort.

OOC: @FPS: Okay then.

The man, not being in a very sensible state of mind, hurries away from Bryce as best as he can.

Bryce watched, dumbfounded. Seeing that the... thing crawling out was having no problem, he ran to the cockpit and began kicking at the window, trying to reach the pilot inside.

A group of six people wander through rocky terrain, a thick fog obscuring anything further then an arm's length away.
"We have gotten ourselves lost. Did I not say that comming here was naught but a fool's errand?" Said a with blonde haired man in his early thirties, wielding a crimson greatsword of strange design.

"The Deadlands is a dangerous place, to be sure. But there is treasure to be had for those willing to brave it. And treasure we have found. Another man in his early twenties carrying an ornate-looking rifle replied. He had shortbrown hair with blonde highlights. He wore an embroidered golden and olive green vest over a high-collared silk shirt and tight black leather trousers with leather shin pads, and open-backed sandals. On either sides of his hips hung two pouches attached two crossed, gold-buckled belts. A collection of brightly colored rings and bracelets adorned his left hand. He also has a set of fang-shaped earrings in both ears. "And besides. It would seem our luck has taken a turn for the better. We've found a teleport crystal." He added, pointing to a orange crystal that hovered slightly above the ground. "Never thought we'd find one out here."

"Alright! Our ticket out of here!" A young man, roughly nineteen years of age exclaimed as he ran towards the crystal. "So, uh. How do these things work again?" The young man asked, poking the crystal.
Just as the others were about to speak, the crystal was poked a bit too entheusiastically. It stopped hovering and tipped over, shattering a a small portion of it. "I.. uhh..."

The gun-wielding man groaned as he walked over and lifted the crystal back into place where it began hovering once more. "That is most certainly not how it is used. And you call yourself a Sky Pirate? Honestly... He remarked with a irritated tone in his voice. "Fortunately. The damage is minimal. It should still be in working order. Just to be safe, I'll go first."
The gun-wielding man placed his hand infront of the crystal and closed his eyes. The crystal reacted and began spinning around, glowing with a bright light and humming softly. Then, with a blinging flash, the man was teleported away. But all did not go according to plan.

Instead of finding himself in the destination where the man thought he would end up, he found himself in a desert. "This... is most unexpected." He mumbled, looking around in confusion, holding a hand over his eyes in the hope to shield them from the sand. "Where did I end up? The Estersand?" Seeing not a hint of civilisation for miles around, the man began walking towards what seemed like a tree.

Another man in full combat armour appears out of the wreckage of the plane. He looks around, dazed and dizzy. He spots Bryce in the distance and decides to walk in his direction. He stumbles, trips and lies down for a minute while he regains his thoughts. What is happening? Who am I? The crash seems to have concussed him, giving him temporary amnesia. He remembers snippets of his life, enlisting in the military, and defending his now destroyed homeworld.

Eventually, he gets up. Although he has not recovered, he is imbued with formidable (and misplaced) courage. He walks over to Bryce, attempting and failing to walk in a straight line.

a small blue metallic device long covered by sand begins to spin and suddenly gives off a bright light.a man with a hardhat,goggles and overalls slowly steps off the device,holding a wrench in his gloved right hand,he covers his face with the other and mutters "dagnabit damnit" as the teleportation device explodes as he steps off it.

A figure in dark body armour trudges through the desert, a sniper rifle in his hands.
He crouches down in a small dune and looks around for signs of life. The helicopter catches his eye, and he makes a beeline for it. The sniper rifle starts to break apart, and a submachine gun takes its place.

The man wanders into the path of Zer0 without noticing him.

Another hand appeared in the seam of the door and yanked it right open with a screech of tortured metal. From within the wreckage, a tall man in a black trenchcoat stepped out, holding one hand gingerly against his forehead. He had spiky black hair, a pointed goatee and sallow, craggy skin. His eyes were green and hard, and his face twisted into a scowl that looked like it belonged there permanently. Strangely, he had what looked like very minimalistic black lens frames on either side of his face, which seemed to have been grafted directly onto his face. He looked towards the cockpit, and gasped when he saw that it was completely crushed in.
"Jesus. Malik!" He exclaimed in a low, hoarse voice and rushed to where the other man was struggling with the wreckage. Even as he got close, he could see that there was no chance she could have survived the impact.

The jester figure saw the pretty toys made by the construction worker and excitedly hopped over, rising higher and higher in the air until he just gave up and flew over waving. "Hey what you got there? Looks fun!"

Upon closer inspection, the mechanic could see the clown had two machine guns strapped to his sides, a bag filled to the brim next to it and a large wooden club with one half having nails sticking out of it strapped to his back. The other half had no nails and bounced up and down.

Bryce looked to the strange cyborg that was running to him. He yelled "Hey, help me with this cockpit, we need to get the pilot out!" He pounded one last time on the window, before grunting unhappily. If anyone looked closely and saw under the skin a duster would cover, they would see long swirling words reading 'WARNING, THIS CARRIER CAN INFECT THROUGH: BLOOD, SALIVA, SEMEN. ADVISE NO DIRECT CONTACT.' He pulled out a pistol, put his hand on the screen, and began pounding his fingers with the butt of the gun, letting out a scream once the fingers broke.

The guy breaks through the storm to the clearing, letting out a few loud coughs as he throws his hood off and unzips his hoodie, shaking the sand off. He was pretty simply dressed with a plain white t-shirt, a small black dog tag around his neck and black jeans. His shoes were black with white velcro straps and odd glowing blue pieces of metal on the heels of them. As he finishes shaking the sand off his black and white hoodie, he approaches the girl and the blue haired man. Having a feeling he wasn't going to be the only once there, he shoves his hands into his pockets and sits down at the base of the tree.

Two figures emerge from the sandstorm and looked around. The first, a man of average height with black hair and a peculiar cape, is the first to speak
"Hm? Well, it seems the moon has changed quite a bit since our last visit."

The second man, who was at least a foot taller than the first, with long silver hair replied
"No, my Lord. This is not the moon, it appears my portal took us somewhere else entirely."

"Then where are we, and what has been done with the moon?!" said the first man

"...Nothing my Lord, I would know if something had happened to it. For now let's try to find out what has happened." said the second man as they both walked in the direction of the woman in the chair.

The gun-wielding man continued to traverse the desert, braving the sandstorm, holding his head low with his right hand infront of his eyes and holding his left hand over his mouth. He heard the voices of several other people in the distance and wondered what possesed them to be out in the open. Not wanting to be in the open himself, he continued on towards the closest thing resembling shelter. The tree.

"Stand aside!" The man ordered as he reached the cockpit. Drawing back his right arm, he punched straight through the plexiglas windscreen of the wreck, reaching down and hitting a switch on the dashboard. There was a series of cracks as the explosive canopy bolts triggered, and he lifted the whole windscreen away before throwing it aside. The pilot hung motionless in her crash straps, a large purple bruise on her forehead and a trickle of blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. These signs were bad enough, but the man didn't even check for vital signs, simply hung his head and cursed, slamming his fist down on the dashboard.
"God damn it..." After a few moments, he straightened up and turned to look at Bryce. A black of dark gold lenses extended over his eyes with a distinctive 'snick'.
"Who are you? Where the hell are we?" He demanded.

as the texan trudged through the sand towards the nearby tree he noticed the well armed jester floating towards him. picking up his pace stated "shucks,shoulda brought more gun"

Bryce looked down, pained from the break. "I've... I did not think you were that strong. Okay then. I'll get her under cover, you gather up some of the others." He then unbuckles her, putting his unbroken fingers where her neck met her shoulder, shifting up to look for a pulse. He saw The cyborg pound the dashboard. "Hey, calm down, we don't know if she's dead. We can still get her out of this."

The clown was still flying and hovered above the Texan. Seeing he was getting nervous the jester yelled "Don't worry, we aren't here to fight yet."

The man reached the tree where he found a young man with blue hair and a woman sitting against the tree's trunk. As he walked closer, he was pleasantly suprised that the sandstorm didn't seem to affect this paticular area. I do so hate the desert. I'll be digging sand out of every orifice for the comming week. Now to find out where I am...

"Ho there. I seem to be lost. Care to tell me where we are?" he asked.

OOC: @FPS While I guess the shades are obviously enough to qualify someone as a cyborg, bear in mind that with his coat and gloves on, none of Jensen's augmentations are actually visible.

The man looked back into the cockpit as Bryce unbuckled the crash harness.
" She's dead. Trust me." He replied grimly. "And there's no one else on board. Do you know somewhere safer than this wreckage? Somewhere we can reach even in this sandstorm?"

[email protected] Realistically in a sandstorm the wreck would be the safest place to stay until it subsides, but for the sake of the RP we should probably suspend that ppiece of desert lore.

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