Story Based PbP
Feel free to jump in from your character's perspective
When you join, feel free to describe your character including class, race, way you join (if needed), and any other fun thing you want to include
Now let our story begin_____________________________________________________________
You all regain consciousness, it wasn’t the easiest of landings though that was no one’s fault in particular as the harsh frozen winds of Para-6 are often unforgiving to even the best of pilots. The ship seems relatively intact on the inside, the occasional sparks flying out from the wires along the walls but they do that on the regular anyway. The outside of the ship, however, is a different story. Through the windows you all notice that the left wings have been severed in the crash; they now lay half covered in snow beneath the ship.
The fierce winds seem to have calmed now with only a slight breeze throwing snow around. It seems safe enough to adventure outside, especially using your environmental survival suits. What secrets this planet holds is unknown, but adventure lay just beyond your bay doors, so what does everyone do next?
The cold meant nothing, the aftermath of the crash meant nothing, truly the only thing that was worth noting was the blackout...how bizarre. It felt a long time since it was forced a reboot and had to restart. Whatever had happened on the ship, it would be best to never let it happen again, if possible.
The system restart went as flawlessly as ever, so thankfully that was a thing. It showed that whatever happened, it wasn't bad enough to ruin anything that handled the software and the hardware was workable. But there was an oddity that could not be overlooked...
Internal Diagnostic: Soul Cage power supply filled to maximum, could not intake more souls.
External Diagnostic: Weapon soul capacity filled, could not intake more souls.
It seemed that not everyone survived the crash. It had enough souls to run for the trip, but now it was refilled. The living were always incredibly frail, but that is neither here nor there. There was an important situation that needed to be attended to. Such as, being stranded on a planet right now.
Rising from some debris, was a hulking mass standing close to seven feet tall (two hundred and one centimeters to be exact) clad in heavy armor. Once out of the debris, some details of this figure was more obvious to note...that being the fact it had rocket boots, a jetpack...and the fact that instead of a head or a helmet, it was what appeared to be a metallic skull with a crown of metal thorns jutting out from the scalp. The eye sockets, and the whole body for that matter, also seemed to glow a soft, etheral blue glow.
This figure went by the name of Arkalon, and it was a Protatype that was given life using the soul of a dead being. Its overall conception is a mystery to most people, and it's probably an origin not many would care to know about.
Scooping down into the debris, Arkalon picked up its plasma greatsword that glowed the same etheral energy as the rest of it. Instead of putting it away properly, Arkalon just let the tip drag in the snow as it began to look around curiously. Rather than look like it was doing any of this with any sort of direction or purpose, it would just give an odd tilt of the head as it looked at things that seemed sort of important.
Eventually it would find something of use, yes?
Pausing at the hatch, the silhouette looked back inside. The voluminous hood hid the gleaming eyes as they scanned the darkened gangway, piercing the shadows, plumbing their depths for any last secrets they had to offer. A quick nod is the only confirmation that a decision had been made. The same quickness is displayed as the cloaked figure steps out into the cold, harsh environment. Even as it moves away from the downed ship, the darkness that was once inside it's hull now flows behind the figure like a loyal pet.
The same head that scanned the ship now looks up and out at the panorama that awaits. As quickly as it moved, the traveler stops and bows it head. Where the quickness of it's previous movement told of grace and sureness, the sudden stillness painted another story...one that spoke of sureness and a deadliness that was coiled within. Within that stillness came a clearer definition...long, hooded and tattered robes, chitinous bone armoring hidden with the folds...pulsing runes of Magitech etched across their surfaces...a set of thirteen steel fangs arrayed along it's waist, gleaming with an interconnected aura of electromagnetic fields, barely contained. Long, bony fingers, more talons than flesh that continue their purposeful slide as they play across more folds, taking stock of supplies.
Once again, the stillness.
Slowly the hood rises, and the gleaming eyes are now displayed in their nest of darkness. Ebryss Tenebrae, the Reaper of Shadow finally decides that he is ready. Now...now he takes stock of his surroundings...of those around him and that which is awaiting him.