Digimon: Battle Across Time

[Kavaan]

As I had promised earlier, I was going to start a Digimon RPG when I found the right RP Forum and so I have. To start, I will post the story, then the rules, and character profile template. Lastly, I will then post what characters have been submitted so far.

The Story

Change is occurring all throughout the Digital World, driven by a force none can identify. It started when the Digital World was forced outside of time, bringing all sorts of catastrophic changes everywhere. The Digital World became larger and more complicated by the day, its normal flow of data from the Real World, our world, replaced by a flow of data not from the same world, but from all worlds and all periods of history in our universe. New types of digimon arose to inhabit the new places that were grown and built, and with all this, inevitably came conflict.

There were those who longed for the way things were, who waged war against those who believed that the changes wrought to this world were ultimately for the better. Then there are those who sat in the middle, seeking only to carry on the task of simply living. Many wonder how and why all this happened and who or what caused it. No one can tell if the root of all this change was good or evil, intentional or unintentional, preventable or inevitable. Those investigating this matter have also realized the need for those who are capable of protecting the Digital World from self-destruction and have called forth those from the real universe who are believed to be able to accomplish this task.

However, those who wreak havoc and chaos for their own gain have also called out to those who can help them in their fiendish plots. Both of these opposing forces of order and chaos have reached across the veil not just to our time, but to all times seeking those from the past, present, and future, from Earth and other worlds inhabited by humans. The storm has come, and has been here for a long time, it is about to get worse, balance and order must be restored before the whole of the Digital World and perhaps even our universe is consumed and destroyed by Chaos.

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The Rules

Essentially, the Digital World had become a very large and complex place due to one event; this event forced it outside of time, allowing information to flow in from all periods of history and all places in our material universe. So, when you create your character you have much more freedom since you can create anyone from virtually any kind of world in the material universe, from any walk of life.

You cannot include any more than a few trinkets from your origin, no weapons of any kind allowed.

All character profiles must be approved by the GM (Me) before they can be used

The periods of history from which your character would come from range from the 1930's, when the first electronic device was created, to the period of history my character comes from, the 41st millennium. Any character can come from any time in this range, and given the incredible diversity of humankind in the far future, just because your character cannot come from medieval times, does not me he or she can come from a world which has regressed technologically to a medieval level. You may also feel free to have your character

[Master Grim]

OOC: Oh, yay! But where to start...? Ah! I know!

IC:

Marco stretched in his seat, looking at the glyphs displayed on some type of monitor. He shifted his hand to the left slightly over a tiny blue sphere to cause a ripple on the screen. He shut his eyes slightly and inhaled. Damn this... I hate losing. The glyphs then suddenly cleared to be replaced by a single one that filled the entire view. He cursed in some language that obviously did not belong to humans. He stood up, his black feathers ruffling, and turned his back to the glyph that had obviously more meaning to him that any human observer.

"Maybe I'll try again..." He sighed and turned again. He blinked. The screen had changed to a rapidly cascading wall of glyphs "What the-...?" He swore in some other language again and took the seat. No sooner than he had put his hand over the controlling orb than a bright flash of light filled the room... and he had vanished, the screen now totally blank.

[Kavaan]

OOC: Here's to hoping that more people join!

IC: The year is 998.M41 or 41,998 in the terms of the day and for over ten-thousand years the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Holy Terra (Earth). He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the dark age of technology. He is the carrion lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand psychics die every day, for whom blood is drunk and flesh eaten- Human blood and human flesh, the stuff of which the Imperium is made.

To be a man in such times is to be among untold billions, trillions even. It is to live in the cruelest and bloodiest regime imaginable. This is a dark and terrible era where there is little comfort or hope. Forget the power of science, technology and common humanity. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for there is no peace in the galaxy, only an eternity of carnage, and slaughter and the laughter of thirsting gods. The universe is a big place and whatever happens, you will not be missed. In the grim darkness of the far future, there is only war.

In these dark times, the Imperium of Man stretches for more than 70,000 light years from the western fringe of the Segmentum Pacificus, to the far, untamed wilds of the eastern Ultima Segmentum. This story, however, begins in the galactic south, in the Segmentum Tempestus, on the Forge World known as Gryphonne IV. The entire surface of this globe is covered and encrusted with massive continent sized factories, machine shops, and other such manufactorums. These places clank and hiss, constantly throwing up pollutants into the ravaged sky as tens of billions of servitors and their tech-priest masters toil night and day to produce munitions and tanks. To the adepts who labor here, the concept of rest is a dangerous blasphemy, for the armies of the Imperium in this part of the galaxy cannot function cannot function without the constant flow of war materials from this steel skinned world.

Such is the truth of all Forge Worlds such as this, as they are the backbone of the Emperor

[Herr Mullen]

Name: James.

Age: 16.

Race : human

Era: 2006.

Appearance: Navy blue school blazer, striped tie, grey trousers, black leather bag, black hair of a medium length, brown eyes.

From within or from without?: Digimon partner (a Wormmon)

Levels of power: None.

Alignment: Surely is portrayed through action, and is decided only through interpritation of a reader.

Also, hurrah for a role play with rules. Combined with the flooding restrictions, I hope I can finally partisipate and get on.

[Kavaan]

OOC: Hurrah for a roleplay with rules too! Anyhoo, you're approved so hop on in!

IC: Ezekiel was expecting to meet an instant death at the hands of a long, fatal fall, but instead of hard earth or metal, he met water. At first he had no idea what to make of this, he had only guessed when he felt nothing but cold all about him and opened his eyes to see that he was underwater. Had he fallen into an exposed cistern or a treatment tank? He had fallen deep into the body of water, rising slowly, the rebreather mask he was wearing to protect his lungs from the toxic atmosphere of his home allowing him some breathing. He had rotated his body to see the combat servitor he had fallen with had hit the same body of water and was sinking. His surprise had started to turn into alarm when he noticed a bright light coming from the servitor's plasma cannon.

Reading the temperature of the weapon, he saw that it was overheating and about to explode. He frantically began to swim towards the surface, a cloud of blood and debris formed from what was being washed off his body and clothes blurring his vision. However, he would not break the surface in time as the plasma cannon exploded. Anyone out of the water that could see what was happening, would first see a glow, then a loud boom as flashboiled water and steam erupted forth depleting the body of water of a third of it's contents. Moments later, a humanoid shape can be seen plummeting forth into the ground and being knocked out.

When he came to, Ezekiel opened his artificial eyes and was startled and confused to see, not the reddish orange colored sky and dim sun of Gryphonne IV, but a clear blue sky and bright yellow sun of some other world. Standing up, he checked to see if all of his limbs were intact and functioning properly which they were, and began to survey his surroundings. He was on a green, windswept plain, with scattered ponds and lakes, one of which was much shallower than it should be. Cold came over him, and he saw that his clothes were still damp, but this cold was not life threatening, so he continued to ponder this place.

[Herr Mullen]

Boredom.

James pondered the consept.

Bordom is... Boredom is...

...Caused by. What's it caused by?

Explore the polar. Interest. Interest is caused by...

Interest is caused by... amusement? Entertainment? What's the good word?

One can be interested in a feild, like... biology. If one is interested, one holds a fasination.

One can be entertained by a stripper. Watching a person take their clothes off is entertaining. Like chess.

Actions vs. Consepts.

Is there a difference between being amused through action, and being fasinated with a consept?

Is there a similarity?

If one plays football, one holds a fasination in play. Do you? Does a person hold a-

"Wake up, Mr. Stibbons!"

James jerked from his glazed expresson. His head rose from his hands and his elbows leftthe table, quick as a startled mouse.

"Sir!"

"Mr. Stibbons! Are you finished with your PowerPoint?"

"...No, sir."

"Get on with it, then! You do not waste time in lessons. The deadline is Thursday, you know!"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And I expect it in prompty, Stibbons, else I will be having words with your tutor."

"Yes, sir."

James sighed, and watched as his hands began to work on the question at hand. He'd planned to do it at home. He couldn't engage with Sociology at all. He thought about asking Mr. Arsenal about changing to something like... physics.

He slowly stirred from his career plans as he noticed the little egg on his screen.

He hadn't seen a clipart like that before. He hadn't put it there, either.

Stupid Microsoft auto-formatting. He decided to delete it, and when he clicked he was pulled into another world.

On screen, the egg hatched. The computer turned off, and the class was leftbehind him, shocked and bilwildered.



James woke to the sight of a big, scary beetle looking down at him.

"Hi," it said.

"...Holy bugger, what the hell are you?"

[Kavaan]

Ezekiel was a fish out of water, so to speak. His home of Gryphonne IV was a pollution choked forge world completely bent to the production of weapons, war machines and equipment to supply the Imperium's armies on the Segmentum Tempestus. His entire life up until recently was completely devoted to managing an assembly line of servitors putting such implements of destruction together. He had never even had a childhood, he was grown to maturity in a geno-vat in the span of three years after gametes from two other tech-priests whom have never met and he'll never meet were merged together. This situation was frightening, as he had no idea on where to go and what to do.

Feeling the fear, he got down on his knees and prayed to the Omnissiah, the Machine God Incarnate, also known to the denizens of the Imperium of Man as the God-Emperor.

"Blessed Omnissiah, I beg of you, please deliver me from this. I am lost and now without purpose. Show me the path to take to my salvation. Amen."

He spent the next several minutes in meditation and prayer, trying to figure out what he should do next. He calmed himself down and deduced what he must do logically. He first needed to secure a means of sustaining himself, while just over half of his body was mechanical, he still needed to eat like any other man and so must solve this problem in less than 48 hours. Water was not a problem as he spied several freshwater ponds within range of his cybernetic sight. Next he need to find civilization, as he was on an alien world, he had hoped that there would not be any Xenos here, as they are an affront to the Emperor and must be destroyed if possible, therefore, he must find human civilization if possible. Finally, he must secure a means to contact the Imperium and seek rescue. He had found his purpose, now he must find direction.

Looking around, he attempted to deduce the most likely direction he must go to find (hopefully human) civilization. Seeing nothing that looks as if it would be crafted by sentient hands, he figured that any direction could work and so simply decided to head straight in a random heading. Whether north, south, east or west he had no idea, since there was nothing to indicate cardinality yet. As he walked, he kept his mind full of pure thoughts, mindful that an idle mind is the plaything of Chaos.

[Dark Sylia Stingmon]

Name: Angel

Age: 14

Race : Crossbreed (Human/Lilithmon)

Era: 3005

Appearance: Picture here

Spirit: Darkness
H Spirit: Twilightmon
B Spirit: Velgemon

Alignment: Disorder

[Kavaan]

OOC: You are approved, feel free to join in at any time, and nice to work with you again.

[Dark Sylia Stingmon]

"Angel honey, I have something I wish for you to do." Lilithmon glanced away from the window of her bedroom to stare at her daughter.

Daughter. What an unusually alien concept to one such as herself. Brought about from a night of unbridled lust with one of those digidestined, her child, Angel now stood before her. The child was somewhat of a disappointment really as she appeared human with seemingly no digimon traits at all.

"Yes, mother?" Came Angel's quiet reply. Angel, short for Evangeline, was the outsider of her mother's family. They treated her with the minimal respect only because of her mother. It was hard being the daughter of one of the seven great demon lords when you've nothing to prove such.

"Here." With a light toss, a small box floated over to Angel.

"What is it?" Angel asked, opening the box to reveal two dark idols that seemed to pulse with an unusual power. Staring from them to Lilithmon, she couldn't help but be a bit confused over the strange gift.

Staring at her daughter quietly, Lilithmon returned her gaze to outside her window. "..Your father wanted you to have these once you were old enough." She finally spoke, a softness in her voice normally unheard by Angel. Rising and walking towards her child, she chuckled as the girl flinched upon her approach.

Unsurprising as she used to torture the child in every way she could think of to draw out the child's latent power. "What are they..?" Angel wondered, relaxing after realizing she wasn't to be hit again.

"Power." Lilithmon replies simply, staring down at Angel. "As well as your last chance to prove yourself worthy of being called my daughter."

Angel wanted to tell her mother, to show her she did have powers.. but no. Now wasn't the time. Picking up both idols, Angel gritted her teeth as they began to fuse into her flesh upon touching them, transforming her body before Lilithmon's eyes and leaving a new form before her.

"So.. just as I suspected. You're a chosen child like your father was.." Lilithmon spoke to the newly formed hybrid before her. "Can you use the other form, Angel?"

"It's Twilightmon now." The pink-haired warrior of darkness spoke, narrowing her eyes. While quite different in appearance, Twilightmon seemed more like a normal digimon instead of a legendary warrior. "I can't use the other spirit yet.. that will take some time."

Lilithmon offered a small smile in response, finding this new form more appropriate for a child calling herself the daughter of Lilithmon. "I wish for you to cause destruction.. mayhem.. death and despair all in the name of chaos." She spoke, her smile slowly widening. "And when you've become strong, come back to me and we shall see if you truely are my daughter."

Smirking, Twilightmon placed her hands on her hips. "Yeah.. we'll see alright.." Was her only words as she walked out her mother's room to begin her journey. With her mother's words, she found a purpose for living, for enduring such torture for fourteen years. And now she would have her revenge someday soon.