Snippet #1090163

located in Omic, a part of Silverose, one of the many universes on RPG.


Capital of the Omicron, and the worst sleaze pit in the galaxy. Picture the Chicago of Al Capone. Very polluted. Nasty place to be, all said and done.


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Somewhere in Omic, in one of the alleyways, three figures wearing black coats and gloves were gathered. As of current, they were next to what appeared to be a large suitcase, panting in an attempt to regain spent breath. The only one standing against a wall, his muscular right hand covering where his heart is, looked around through his orange-tinted glasses. "Did we lose that crazy chick yet?" he asked.

Another man, the thinnest and shortest, who squatted directly beside the suitcase nodded. "Yeah..." he breathed. "There's no way she would've been able to follow us here through the buildings and everything..." He glanced at the very neatly cut hole in the wall to his right. "Wish I had your lasers, Mick..." he commented to the one with the orange glasses as he corrected his black cap.

'Mick' smirked. "Don't cost much, Loarl... only about $48 Earth bucks..." Mick then looked towards the man slouched on the wall, looking very pale. "Hey Ima, you alright?"

Ima took roughly two seconds to form a reply. "Yeah..." he breathed so quietly it was almost silent. "Just... gotta... catch my... breath..."

Before Ima's lungs could be of actual use again, a figure landed at the end of the alleyway on two legs. It was definitely human, but it wore a racer's racing outfit and a narrow-visored helmet. "Hey, how's it going?" it said casually, its tone showing that it was a female. Even as they were caught by surprise, Mick and Loarl were up in an instant; the former armed with what appeared to be a photon assault rifle and the latter with two photon handguns. "Now, now," she cooed as her forearms lit up with a blue light, "is that how you treat everyone who bothers to say hello?"

"And then thrash us and take everything of value to us like a scavenger? Yeah," responded Mick, priming his rapid photon rifle. Loarl followed suit with his two photon handguns. Ima, as he was, couldn't even stand. And even though she wore a helmet with a visor so thin it was basically a straight line, they could tell she was smirking. The two blue whips unraveled from her forearms and laid on the ground.

"Okay then," she began, giving the whips a spin. "How about we fight for that case there, again? Actually, don't bother answering that." For a brief instant during a faster than normal spin, the whips turned red and tore at the ground exactly where the whips landed before turning blue again. "It's not like I'm giving you a choice." Then she dashed forward.

The cries of the two men, despite lasting for only several seconds, could be heard from far away.