The Evrensel Conflict: Paralogue 1 -- The Cyber-Hangover

Wade Von Doom

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Sci-fi, modern, horror, a bit of dark romance stories.
Various heroes from across the multiverse were kidnapped. In a flash of bright light, they were taken from their homes and brought to a station floating in the deep reaches of space, just along the edges of whatever galaxy they had been brought to. The station was run by an AI system, collecting not only dozens of 'scattered,' but weapons and items of importance, all held here for reasons unknown.

Yet, the station was infiltrated by another band of heroes, ones that knew of the AI and its meddling of universes. Yet, their memories of how and why they found out were... hazy, at best. Like something had blocked out their memories, like a mental scar. Still, with a combination of force from both them and the rescued heroes, along with a good amount of luck that they even survived in one piece, they took the station and made their escape with it before reinforcements arrived. But questions still remain:

What happened to the invading hero team? Why are their memories of how they teamed together scrambled? How did they find out about the AI? What is the AI? Why is it doing this? And how does it have the ability to travel between world? Most importantly, WHAT is it doing to these worlds?

For now, while they try to understand the station's systems, along with how to use it to travel safely between universes, everyone takes the time to explore the station and discover its secrets, and make it their new home for the time being.



Alec Duggan -- @Wade Von Doom

Oliver -- @BazusoTheGrey


Anri -- @Girania the Knightess

Agatha Brandt -- @Valkan

Van -- @noob13241

Ryder - @The Wanderer

Voláre -- @LenxKaitoYaoi

Arthur Drake -- @Birdsie

Fives Hargreeves -- @SorryTM


The Fugitive Doctor -- @Epiphany



It was the best thing to call it in Alec's mind. The lay out of the station itself was a bizarrity to understand, as all decks below this one could be changed, reconfigured, and even moved if they wanted to from this place, and trying to understand how to properly manage this strange 'ant-farm' layout boggled the mind unless you were a super-computer. Or, just too clever for your own good.

It also had, what could best be described, as a 'multiverse map.' The orb in the center of the massive console could morph into whatever shape it needed to be to calculate the correct and fastest route to take between worlds, realms, clusters, star systems or galaxies, as well show an overview of the universe itself, or whatever planet the station could orbit.

This wasn't to mention the view above it, protecting the exterior of the space around the station itself to give the user a view of what it looked outside. Alec figured this must be the 'bridge' section of this place.

But there was one prevalent issue weighing on Alec's mind before they could continue on their journey for the mysterious AI and venture through the multiverse itself. That being supplies.

This place had none. There were some medics and healers, sure, but not enough food to feed them all, nor proper medical supplies should healers not be available. This didn't even count ammunition for their weaponry, or things like beds for their new living conditions. There was a garden, sure, but it was filled with magical plants and god knows what kinds of spirits. They hadn't ventured far enough into the place to discover if it was safe enough to use for harvesting crops from.

They needed stuff now. Thankfully, however water worked in this place, it seemed safe enough to drink and use to wash with, so they had some time to come up with a plan. And Alec just about had one thought through by the time he pinged people through the comms.

'ANY AVAILABLE HANDS WHO WISH TO VOLUNTEER FOR PLANETARY SCOUTING, MEET ME UP IN THE COMMAND DECK. TOP FLOOR, TAKE AN ELEVATOR... IF YOU CAN FIND ONE -- ALEC' He figured some of the lads on the station would love a chance to explore a new world and get out of this place for some proper fresh air. See the sights of multiverse exploration.
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Woop of Woops
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Van- Freeloader in Cyberdrunk
For plenty of his job line, they tend to develop one of two attitudes when it comes to job opportunities. Either extreme paranoia, digging into every detail to possibly tear any and every advantage into their favor...or the happy-go-lucky fools who take any job that catches their eye to skip away from any boredom they're dealing with...

Van would never call himself happy-go-lucky ever, but one cannot deny that besides his temper, he'd rival even the most foolish harem protag in his desire to stick his nose into more jobs than he has the right in doing...
The other reason is he's got literally nothing he can do besides sparring with others. Better doing this than nothing after all.

So, the thief boy would simply be found making his way up to that command deck...Not through an elevator though, that's too much trouble to go looking for in this ridiculously large station.

Instead, others would find Van blitzing his way through the air as he goes to find his own way up.

Alec would receive a ping of his own from his position in the command deck...albeit, not one of a message, but one from the cameras detecting motion outside.

And then a ping of minor damage from that camera...repeatedly. By the time they'd see what's going on, said camera would have sent over a hundred pings as Alec would see live of Van just, sitting outside of the command deck. Poking that camera constantly.

The constant beeps might wanna suggest he let him inside or that's gonna be a constant background noise for the meetup...not even mentioning the wait time he'd have to experience before that either.
Idan Graves - Oh Lord, give me sobriety, but do not give it yet!

"Fuckin' ell..."
Idan muttered under his breath, amazed at the huge quantities and selections of alcohol the tinker-tech AI could provide on demand. Hell, Idan was originally amazed by the existence of an AI that DIDN'T want to do blatantly nefarious shite - at least according to its claims. When he learned it served alcohol - some of which were from different dimensions - Idan didn't waste any time exploring his coping methods with the 'unfamiliar fuckin' situation, filled with capeshite' he found himself in.

Unfortunately for some, Idan's coping mechanisms weren't found through traditional drinking - not that he would've trusted alcohol from an AI anyways - but rather through some experimental bomb-crafting. With this in mind, he proceeded to order a large array of high-proof alcoholic drinks, starting with Moonshine and working his way up to Spirytus Rektyfikowany.

Which brings us to now, where after muttering in amazement at the wide arsenal placed before him, Idan got to work - storing as many bottles as he could fit within his rugsack and arms, before rushing to one of the dozens of bedrooms aboard the station. Like a man possessed, he locked the door and began tearing away at the bed's sheets, forming them into makeshift rags for his high-proof Molotovs. The immense euphoria he found within the sensation of crafting them - and thinking of the safety they offered him - was a much needed high. If he was going to be trapped in this cape-bullshit without protection, he would make his own protection - just like he had always done so before.

As Idan finishes wrapping his last molotov - practically an ethanol-bomb given its 192 Proof - he hears a voice on the intercoms, asking for volunteers to participate in planetary scouting. Normally, Idan would involve himself as little as possible with a such a dangerous situation - but after making such flammable beauties - each begging to be used - he decides he can manage a bit of risk with his new protection. As such, Idan opens the bedroom door and begins wandering to the nearest elevator - his filled rugsack making a 'clinking' noise with every footstep.
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Fantasy (Both High and Low), Scifi and Cyberpunk
Fifth Grade Fixer - Oliver

In the room next to Idan's, Oliver sat still, idly listening to the sounds of clinking bottles and tearing sheets as he stared down at his assorted belongings. Listlessly, he began to inspect the items, turning them over in his hands and occasionally bringing them closer to his body's singular eye. After a few minutes, he finishes, placing the items back into their respective places. A couple of minutes after, he repeats the process, inspecting the tools of his trade and the few personal belongings that he cares for. Occasionally he finds something that changes the routine, a smudge to be cleaned or a tear in his uniform that he sews up with the limited tools he had in his bag, but in the end, he once again places his things onto the table in front of him and repeats the process.

He has done this five times now.

Really, there wasn't anything better to do in this situation he thinks. He had already interacted with a few of his new... workmates (fellow escapees? He'll figure out what to call them later) in the bar, and despite the reactions to some of his work stories he figures that the rapport he's starting to build was solid enough.

Just as he's about to begin his sixth round of inspection, the voice on the intercom catches his attention.

Hmph, didn't sound like the most exciting gig, but work was never an unwelcome thing.

Standing from his chair, Oliver packs his belongings and swiftly dons his uniform. His white button-up shirt came first followed by a tie with a sloppy knot his boss would have thrown a fit over. Next came his black suit consisting of a double-breasted jacket and pants both with Knecht Tailor's special lining, then finally Downpour Office's signature raincoat overtop the ensemble. Inspecting himself in the mirror, Oliver chortles at his own appearance. Even with four years of experience, it still tickled something funny when he saw himself wearing his uniform.

Slinging his duffel bag onto his back, his new shanker into its sheath, and his trusty zweihander over his shoulder (he should probably give something to that mech pilot for the help he gave in getting it back to him), Oliver steps out of the room and heads to the nearest elevator as well.