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Post by Whill Shaman Chrysanthe on Nov 14, 2017 13:46:34 GMT -8
*The world of Faysbuhk was a strange place. Unique about the world was that it seemingly contained any and every type of terrain, building, and creature imaginable, sometimes even at the will of one of its inhabitants. It could be a beautiful place or a strange one, photorealistic... or downright abstract. Literally nothing was impossible to see here, no object or climate too bizarre as to not be found on the surface. Or below. Or above! One must take care not to get lost within the vast nooks and crannies, or fall victim to the myriad amusing sights. And do be especially aware, for the surface is an advertiser's paradise...*
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The Sable Count
The Dark Jedi Order
You may think me evil. But I am not. I am efficient,
Posts: 344 
Affiliation: The Dark Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by The Sable Count on Nov 14, 2017 15:20:01 GMT -8
At this moment, 9,000,000,000 battle droids came out of the ground. Along with them were a similar quantity of every other droid you could possibly imagine, along with Frigates, Dreadnoughts, battlecruisers, and the like. Finally, at the center of this mess of droids were 50 Subjugator Class Heavy Cruisers. In addition, there were 500 Sun Crushers. This army stood ready to fight.
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Darth Bacon
Member
Posts: 13
Affiliation: The Order of the Kitchen
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Post by Darth Bacon on Nov 14, 2017 16:09:54 GMT -8
*Did somebody say "advertiser's paradise"?! Master Chef Darth Bacon, Lord of the Kitchen, could not resist in the slightest to get his name out there in this tangled web of ads known as "Faysbuhk." He worked hard, and by that he meant he paid artists to work hard for him in order to unveil a big, bright, shining neon sign that displayed the name "Bacon's Bistro" in huge, stylized letters, alongside a portrait of Bacon himself. He thought he looked handsome, but beauty was in the eye of the beholder, after all.*
"Stunning," *Eggs droned.* "Use enough red, you think?"
"Oh, apprentice," *Bacon replied with a smile, putting an arm around Eggs's shoulder as the red-skinned man gestured towards a corner of the ad.* "Do you not see?"
*In said corner thre was the tiniest splash of yellow, in honor of the yellow human standing beside him. Eggs blinked and shrugged.* "I'm flattered, I guess. But here's the other problem: We uh, currently don't have a restaurant. Anywhere."
*Bacon frowned.* "Shoot. You're quite right. Well I know! Why don't we just build one up right here with imagined resources? Just until we get on our feet and so we have something this ad can properly represent!"
"I'm just going along for the ride against my will, as usual."
*Bacon chuckled and slapped the man on the back.* "Always with the sense of humor. But right, here we go!"
*He found a perfect empty lot, one that was quite convenient actually, and raised his hands above his head. In moments, a restaurant rose from the ground, fitting his mental image of his dream restaurant: Multi-floored, fully staffed and stocked, and in pristine condition. Without another word, he grinned as he stepped inside, inspecting everything and seeing that it was perfect. Sighing happily, he stood behind the counter and declared,* "Business is open!"
"To the kitchen I go, I suppose," *Eggs murmured, heading into the back.*
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Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
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Affiliation: The Jedi Order
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Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Nov 14, 2017 21:42:33 GMT -8
*Faysbuhk... an interesting world... and in some way familiar. He stood upon a green plain, for the moment tranquil, lined by forests in the distance. Felt like Belkadan. Felt like... home. He stared at the sky, able to see his now-massive fleet from here. That had been strange enough, but the strangeness only persisted once he stood upon the ground. For one thing, he felt... much younger. Both physically and in attitude. He felt a lot more lithe than before... and far less in-tune with Ashla. His lightsaber took on a far different shape and no longer felt like the Force conduit that his new weapon.
Nor was he adorned in robes... instead, rather casual clothing had taken their place, a short-sleeved shirt and denim jeans, with sports shoes on his feet. His hair felt slightly longer, messier... and he was looking at the world through tinted glasses for no particular reason.* "I feel like an imbecile and yet I want to embrace this..." *New details also made themselves known, like a change in name and character history—* "Yeah okay, no, I'm drawing the line at those, those were too stupid."
*And thus, the Jedi, retaining the name of Aerandir Calmcacil and his history as a child of Deralia, stood on the surface of Faysbuhk, observing, learning, preparing for his next move...*
"... heh, I guess at least this time 'Grand Master Aerandir' is an accurate name. Who knew?"
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2017 10:00:24 GMT -8
The ground heaved, before the great Interstellar Trading Company building rose up from its depths. The Caamas city known as Refuge City soon followed. Giving the world one of its first cities. Darth Jones stood upon the roof, looking out upon the world. Studying it. At his right hand, stood Left-Tenant Jack
"Well... Prepare the men Left-Tenant! I feel a storm is gathering..." Darth Jones
"Aye sir!" Left-Tenant Jack
The man took his leave of the roof then, heading down into the building to begin readying the troops of the Brotherhood War Party
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Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
Posts: 1,721
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Nov 17, 2017 13:53:12 GMT -8
*Finding it harder to get back into the mindset of the olden days than he realized, the suddenly-younger Jedi Master with an appearance that no one, friend or foe, should ever take seriously had basically been lurking in the bushes, examining his surroundings and any and everyone who was present. There was Darth Bacon, only thinking about business as usual. Some fancy-type had arrived with quite the army, including... incredibly pointless superweapons, seeing as planetary destruction was never possible in 1.0 and certainly wasn't here.
And... was that a guy with tentacles for a face? And not a Quarren? Well, he'd seen stranger. Done stranger. But never did a stranger.
...
Reaching for his comm, he spoke,* "Alright, there's gonna be some sort of three-way going on out here."
"You mean like the chili?" *answered someone on the other end.*
"I mean a battle, you dingus. Let's just get our men down here and prepare for all-out warfare. Clearly that's all we know how to do, after all."
"Your satire is a little bit less than subtle, sir."
"Just get the things ready."
*And with that, he was suddenly backed up by a vast legion of troopers, complete with tanks, walkers, and light aircraft support. Who needed numbers? Okay, well, even back then people needed numbers, but it was also just easier to say there were a lot of them because who kept track of these things anyway?*
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The Sable Count
The Dark Jedi Order
You may think me evil. But I am not. I am efficient,
Posts: 344
Affiliation: The Dark Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by The Sable Count on Nov 18, 2017 7:13:17 GMT -8
Aderon stood in the command post, watching, waiting. Suddenly, a thought popped into his head, and a MASSIVE droid foundry popped out of the ground, complete with ray shields, proton cannons, sonic emoter cannons, every type of Umbaran vehicle, and enough Geonosians and raw materials to make an endless supply of battle droids. Aderon Watch contently as he waited for his enemies to make their first move, knowing that every second they waited was 1 battle droid of each type more for his army.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Nov 19, 2017 18:54:40 GMT -8
==Something Old, Something New SL==
<<106 PP; ??? Sector, Error code 404 - Location not found>>
The wind seemed to shift for a long minute. A lone frame of old iron rusts in the dusty plains. Something is waiting.
Something is returning.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Nov 20, 2017 10:17:37 GMT -8
==Something Old, Something New SL==
<<106 PP; ??? Sector, Error code 404 - Location not found>>
Wild clouds danced & contorted above the old frame. The day promised to turn wicked as the setting sun fights to turn the day to crimson & the clouds fights to turn sickly green. Bloody stains that should have flaked away or been eroded a century ago stubbornly cling to the iron. Darkness shrouds the fame in inky darkness as the sun finally retreats & the cloud surrender their stolen luminescence. Blue & green streamers jump from bank to bank in the sundered ocean of jagged clouds, a twisted view into a forsaken heaven. The rumble shakes the bones of the earth, the scream of the wind a oddly organic banshee of hate. Black, dead dust swirls up from the ground, whipping & lashing the frame, shadow shapes, half glimpsed in the flickering demonic light seem to act out some horrific tragedy upon the frame. The wind snaps & cracks like whips while the sand pulls like flaying knifes at the ground.
The tortured sky shrieks in agony, a shuttering bolt of fire drops from the sky, sinking its teeth into the iron of the frame. Flying dust caught in the path is instantly vitrified into shards of black glass. Within moments, dozens more tiny bolts of lightning had struck the frame, the sky itself trying to bolt it from existence. Thousands of black shards flying in complex loops that always seem to find themselves drawn back in to the frame. The dark blood on it once again wet, despite the dryness of the storm. A purple bolt splits the sky from horizon to horizon racing across the arc of the sundered heavens. The shadow forms seem to gain ever more form & horror as more & more black shards join the flying dust.
A fat drop falls from the sky, striking the dust near the frame. Sticky & slow, it stirs up the dust. The flashes & flickers paint it a dull crimson. Hundreds, thousands, millions more follow it. Each sticky red drop of sanguis in stark opposition to the natural order. A fresh wave of thunder bolts reave at the soil, seeking to bury this newest terror. But their fury was spent in vain. Bloody red crystals joined the dance of the black crystals, flashing in sprays & spurts that gave a grisly realism to the scenes.
Light. Power. Heat. The anvil of the gods falls from the sky upon the frame. A singular bolt of lightning that turns the night to day for a hundred miles in every direction. Clouds & winds scatter from the mushroom bloom of the fury of the heavens. For a moment, all is silence. Of the frame, nothing remains. Where it stood now lurks a twisted crystal of deepest black & bloody red. The jagged abomination stands like the casket of a demon, locked away for its sins.
Time passes, the night rests from its exertion. The first rays of dawn's light fall upon the dark crystal. For a moment the ground is alight with a thousand impossible shades of red & black. There is a sound of grinding glass & screaming crystal. The moment passes & where stood the crystal now stands a giant of a man. Long black hair whipping from the passage from the underworld. Wicked horns curling from a brow that had been wiped clean of the web of scars that had marred it in life. Clad in armored robes of woven crystals & studded with plates of black & red crystals. In one fist he clutched a terrible rod of twisting crystal, in the other an orb of the same shivering with some dark internal life. A laurel of the same crystals wrapped around the curve of his skull, a dark crown for a dark lord. He looked every inch the Mandalorian warrior-scholar king ready to either judge with dark wisdom or strike down in terrible wrath in equal measure.
The power of this place was without doubt. Not even mighty Tython had the presence required to open up a road that he could walk. But the same power would prevent his leaving this place. The Admiral once again walked the world, but only while this strange place existed. However, even with that limitation, there were still wrongs he could right. Balances he could address. Tears he could quell. Glancing at the orb in his fist, he willed it far away. It vanished with a bare whisper of the power this place had. His task was done, he could rest in peace now. Of course, that would be rather boring. Instead, he could also have a little fun while this place endured.
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