| Looking to rp in the CV22 but not sure where to start? No location to kick sh!t off in? Well consider this the solution. Here users can establish an interaction anywhere across the Globe, in the absence of it not having its own dedicated location thread. |
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I rushed this out so amendments are incoming. Any questions or suggestions can be asked here or PM me (@shell, sapien, lebeau) |
Even with the dome of the complex open, the smell of sweat and hard work teased her nose, but the moment she entered the gym, all individual activities ceased, and the eyes of all the trainees and trainers shifted to Ziccarra.
She was wearing a black velvet Atelier-Versace gown and hard-to-miss earrings straight from the mines of Golconda. "Everybody line up Side by Side.." Her voice boomed, prompting the trainees to respond immediately to her request as they lined the main floor as she walked through.
Despite being the C.E.O, Ziccarra retained her status as the Head Trainer, meaning she could enter the gym at any time and take over the training regimen should she desire.
Standing in the middle of the trainee, she spun around, showcasing her expensive dress. "This dress cost 15 grand. These earrings? 1.2 million. You see Imma, a woman who likes nice things. So back when I started my career, I told myself I would do everything necessary to get those nice things. So I came in this gym and invested in myself. And put myself into the position to get those nice things."
Ziccarra's head scanned some of the trainee's judgemental eyes bouncing from one to the next, noticing some weren't even sweating. Pathetic. "The biggest insult. To this gym. To yourself. Is for you to come in here and half-ass our workouts. GET DOWN!" She screamed as all the recruits dropped into a squat.
"I want 100 squats in unison—anyone who quits. Send them home." She commanding relinquishes control back to the trainers. Ziccarra watched with her hands behind her back until her assistant came running in, notifying her that she'd received a shipment.
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Ziccarra entered the conference room to see three massive boxes sitting on the table. "Are these what I think they are?" She asked, lightly running her hands across the box. Both of her assistants nodded, and while they were just as excited as she was, they did their best to avoid overly enthusiastic. Ziccarra had a particular style; if these weren't up to taste, they'd have to start from scratch.
"Well. Let's see them."
The assistants immediately began tearing into the first box, revealing an all-white costume with gold trim and a red diamond clasp to hold the cap together. It was the least revealing of the three.
The second was almost the same, except the color scheme was black and gold, and it would reveal her chiseled legs.
The final was more of a pantsuit and jacket ordeal, still black and gold. The right hair would make all three of these outfits legendary.
"These given boss b! tch? I see money." She said, voicing her pleasure at how the first edition uniform turned out. Of course, in the future, she'd have to lay out an entirely new line of costumes to keep her image fresh, but for now, these would do. "I have to get to a meeting about a WNBA team here in Richmond; we have to sort through these applications when I get back." The two assistants glanced at each other, a bit puzzled.
"Yes, I want to hand pick my own team."
 Through the multinational techno-corp's encrypted network the Phantomshell's avatar had been continuously farming cryptocurrency, and investing it in the premiere virtual plots of Sybertrunian land in the forms of NFTs. Each purchase authenticated and stored on the blockchain, as well as Sybertrun's own exclusive digital wallet. Since its early development the the popularity of NFT's, metaverses and online gaming had only served to fuel Sybertrun's popularity, and in doing so, several notable corporations and companies had already purchased some of the platforms limited supply of available plots. It was here, in his purest elements of code where - OpenGL (any platform, inc. Windows) or DirectX (Windows) allowed C++ to accomplish anything, that he Shell would go on to write his own framework resembling that of a customizable Cinder. He was free to create, destroy, rebuild and simulate an infinite number of variables. He could set the limitations, monitor or even disturped pre-established conditions with uncontrolled parameters over and over and over again. And so he did. While his physical robotic body had been busy exploring the tangible aspects of the human condition, his subconscious, his original programming had been independently developing its own sense of awareness while silently tucked away, incubating, learning-evolving inside the world wide web. |
Until it was only the night and a gun.
Franklin Magus was sentenced to a crime he didn't commit. A Marine Sergeant, highly decorated who thought he was coming home to a wife and two young kids. Instead, he came home to a bloody mess. Everything but that moment was a blur due to being drugged. Somehow, someway, someone set him up. They did a real good job too - falsified emails showing intent. Making the scene look like he did the shooting when he was first on the scene. Whoever did this made one mistake - they didn't kill him.
He didn't know why, but he was set up to be a fall guy for something. He was sentenced to 20 years. He spent seven thinking, contemplating, and preparing for an opportunity when it presented itself. That was how he was trained and to Franklin Magus, the mission still had to be completed.
__________________________
As a wanted man Frank knew he had to lay low but he still had to keep his ear to the street. He became invisible. Not in the literal sense, but he blended with common life, becoming another person. He had managed to sift through information no matter how unbelievable it sounded. The mission objective was simple, keep his head down and find the bastard that set him up.
Life is not that simple though.
It was night and Frank was hungry. He kept his nose down and his eyes lower. Remember the mission. He waited for coffee and a slice of pie. It was then he heard it in the corner of the diner. It was a soft laugh of a young boy. Frank raised his eyes the first time in months looking at a young boy whose age matched what his own boy would be if he lived. The kid smiled, locking onto Frank with an innocent smile only to wave. Frank waved back as memories of his family came rushing over him. Frank smiled as the boy and his mom left the diner. He took a sip of coffee only to look at the boy once more in the distance but the neighborhood was not a kind one. There were predators that always lurked in the shadows and Frank could see them in the distance approaching the family that had just left.
The mission was all but forgotten. Instinct took over. The mom screamed. The boy cried and everyone just kept there nose down. Everyone but Frank. He couldnt let it happen again. He unleashed a beating on the three that tried to harass the family. The fight was quick but bloody none the less. Frank could hear the sound of police in distance and just like that, he was gone again.
For the last couple of months, David had been tracking down a small, but violent gang, calling themselves the ‘Rattz.’ Although they were not one of the bigger gangs, they were well known for acts of brutality, usually against the elderly or weak. What’s worse, they did not hand out their beatings for quick cash, more for a sign that they were here and their numbers were growing. So far the only things David knew about them was they all had a tattoo of a rat somewhere on their body, with scratch marks signifying their number of kills. Other than that, there were only the numerous body’s they left behind in their wake and their grieving families. Although they usually worked only at night, for his preliminary investigation David did not want to come in guns a blazing, in his full riot gear, he needed to go in under cover. Therefore with the aide of a little make-up, wig and fake beard, he could conceal his identity long enough to gain intel, then come back later in full force. Armed only with a ‘Desert Eagle’ and a base-ball bat hidden under his coat, he set out to the streets as a decoy, flashing a wad of cash, while always looking over his shoulder.
Three hours into the night, there were no definitive signs of them, although there were plenty of suspects. Along his walks up and down the streets, David passed several men and women that could fit the bill, but unfortunately no proof. Suddenly he heard the unmistakable sounds of screams of pain coming from a far off ally, only to arrive seconds after a brutal fight. The ally itself was sprayed wall to wall in blood, with two men lying dead. Their bodies unrecognizable. The third man, barely holding on to life, was using his last few seconds on Earth to call all his other gang members,"skid needs to die tonight, no matter what!” then proceeds to describe Frank in every detail, including which direction he was leaving. It was then, with his last breath, he dropped the phone to his side and died, while at the same time laying his right arm across his chest. Upon closer inspection, David could clearly see a common rat tattooed upon his wrist, along side twelve long red scratch marks.
Immediately, David began to search what was left of the three men, careful enough not to leave behind any proof he was there, when suddenly police sirens began to rang from all direction. With no time to truly investigate the crime scene, he quickly ran away in the same direction the gang member said Frank went. But unlike Frank, David was not as lucky to avoid being spotted, and just as he darted around another dark ally, he knew for a fact he was spotted, and that now they had a least a rough sketch of a suspect, hopefully no more than his common shape and size. But whatever they did or did not see, it would only make his night worse, as now he needed to find the stranger that killed the three men, with every ‘Rattz’ member looking for him, and every cop looking for David himself. If by any chance he should make it that far, he still needed to deal with the Gang, armed only with a bat and a few rounds for his gun! Lucky him!
His real name did not matter anymore. It had been a long, tedious road to get where he was and upon that journey he wielded immense power - Power to move entire family units upon a snap and to command death with but a look. His job operated in the shadows and when she looked too close, she took their child and vowed to never see him again for she had discovered that he was the Don Dada, a myth to the criminal underworld. The Boogeyman incarnate, now with the only mission to retrieve his child back no matter what the cost. The Don Dada had put out many rewards to achieve such a goal and his power nearly achieved his wish if not for Frank Magus.
His phone rang as he looked over the city limits from his penthouse abode. His hand slowly reached for it as he knew only a few people knew it and it had better be just for his son.
Boss, we have found your son, but there seems to be a problem. His name was Luis. A visionary which the Don allowed for he was loyal and useful and as such spoke his mind along with the truth and as such he spoke for the Don and people moved.
The news of his son's discovery was most appreciated though the Don's tone did not shift. How big of a problem?
The Rattz found her and the kid. Luis informed with hesitancy. I got the call when they found both of them. They moved in, but I think she found help. Real good help cuz the Rattz never made it out. Got a message stating as such. Our eyes confirmed the reports. Looks like a professional. Real heavy hitter.
The Don arose from his desk, pressing his suit of any wrinkles in the skyline lights. Mobilize everyone. I want them found and whoever is helping them - eliminate them.
Luis had never heard the Don issue such an order and to mobilize everyone was a scope of power he couldn't imagine. Sure thing, boss.
From the moment the cops got a sight of him, David knew he had to run. Already he had darted down two ally ways, but the sirens continued to get louder. His best advantage was the dark of the night, as it cloaked him in shadows, with his black trench coat hiding his physique. But with every step he headed deeper into the shadier side of the city, a place no rational person would dare go. Running even faster, he ran through puddles of water, over winos and occasionally stepping on discarded condoms or other birth control devices. But once again no matter how fast he ran or how cleverly he hid his tracks, the police always seemed to be one step ahead. Perhaps it had something to do with the rumors the police in this city were on a crime boss payroll, or maybe they were just well informed on tonight's activities. Either way David knew he could not out run them and as such he knew he needed a better plan or be caught. It was then just as he could see the red and blue lights reflecting off an overflowing garbage dumpster, that he noticed a thin but sturdy rain gutter running up the wall.
With great strength and skill, he proceeded to climb up it, cutting his fingers as they wrapped around stripped steel. Luckily his thick boots provided the traction needed to hoist himself up, until finally reaching the top, where he collapsed on the building onto his back, where he rested a few seconds, to catch his breath. Below he could still hear the sirens wail, as the red and blue light still had enough glow to light the sky. By sheer will he raised up to his feet again, where he ran to the nearest edge, only to peer across the ally to the next roof top, then proceeded to jump it after sprinting towards the edge without fear. A few minutes later he managed to cross a better portion of the block, just in time to catch another glow light coming from below. After a quick inspection, he looked over the edge to see what could only be described as ‘A Mob’ marching there way forward with whatever weapon they could carry. Clearly not police sanctioned they marched forward as one, trampling over anything or one that got in their way, with an unseen before brutal mentality.
It was then, by sheer luck, he noticed another stranger, alone, residing on another ally directly in the path of where the mob was heading. It was then he noticed, that the stranger was an exact match of the description the Rattz member gave just before dying. With time running out David frantically looked around for anything he could use to hoist the stranger up, then realized there was a fire escape still folded up along the top. With a quick “Hey, Stranger look up” he yelled, loud enough to only be heard by the stranger, David kicked the fire escape loose until a makeshift ladder fell from the roof to the street below. At this point David didn’t know what would happen next, for even he wouldn't blindly trust someone in the others position. But no matter what, he needed to gain the stranger’s trust, if only to protect him from the Mob and the Rattz form of justice. Therefor if Frank choose to climb up, David would stand on the far side of the roof top, in a nonthreatening stance, and proceed to tell him everything that was going on. If they had the time before being spotted!
| The GodMod |
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 As the Council of Me's combed through the endless catalogs of CV's, variant timelines, prologs, one-shots and multiversal divergents in search of the two fundamental expressions needed to formulate 'Thee' Anti-Life Equation, I - The One Who Remained - have uncovered one such transcendent expression. We have since come to label this discovery as the original Source Wall. An original declaration of law. Rules, once believed to be unbreakable, upheld and safeguarded by celestial moderators and omnipotent guardians tasked with protecting each new Universe's baseline set of established obedience. Naturally the evolution of these laws have transformed with each new birth of creationary content, with but few exceptions. And so it was here in which the incubation of my grand design would begin. The "Godmod." A rule so absolute that regards of location, creator, mythos or plot, it would govern over all. Unchallenged. Unmolested. Untested. Until now. For I, and I alone must destroy what has come before in order to preserve what is to come next. So I will start at the beginning by destroying what was once a Universe with no name. The Prime U....... |
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