Here is an example of my first post, a taste if you will, of the depth of the rp I intend to make this.
Traversing the byways of virtual reality was ever the taxing endeavor. Advertisements, he could disable, the avatars of others, he could ignore... to a degree. But the sheer mass of data all around him swam within his endlessly analytic, genius mind, a cacophony of calculations that could not be shut out. He had attempted to become a very capable hacker, with his ability to learn most anything in a fraction of the time it took any other individual... but when he opened up the codes behind the simplified interfaces, the data took his mind by storm. He could not rest until he understood every nuance of a thing, and something so vast as virtual worlds that rivaled reality made his brain literally start hemorrhaging as he attempted to dissect it directly. Thus, he'd thrust himself entirely from learning of the virtual world... it was a medium for communication to be used sparingly, a place of weakness for him, that he could only go so far in compensating for.
More importantly, it was the web where many a fly gathered, from all over the world. Where information was brokered, and he dealt well with information. He formed connections, amassed capital, made alliances and enemies with such haste as to make many wary of the newcomer to the scene. Cupitor Immortalis... the 'seekers of immortality.' The moniker was fitting, though most misinterpreted its meaning entirely. Emelyan did recognize himself out to be the ultimate hypocrisy in this. He was the young talent to the organization, a field agent that was given leave to operate independently on behalf of the organization, as he'd quickly proven how beneficial he could be... without dispensing too many details of his real capabilities. He made allies, not friends. He desired no friends... save for one.
That was why he was in this dark pit, searching for a soul that should be drawn to such places. He monitored many such places, granted access by connections outside of the virtual world. He'd performed complex algorithms to determine her personality, her genetic profile... he felt he had a relatively low margin of error. He would find her. 17 billion people weren't so many to comb through. For her sake... not so many at all. He drank from a fake cup filled with a fake liquid that sent a fake sensation to his brain... he imagined it offended his synapses. The taciturn, brown skinned boy with orange eyes held no pretenses. His avatar looked exactly as his real world self, a foolishness to most, though most wouldn't believe it to be his true image. It was an expensive avatar, and he wore a trench coat that gave the vibe of a noir detective. This veritable den of iniquity he found himself in was called the Velvet Touch, one of the more tame adult entertainment virtual bars where very large quantities of capital, information, and black market goods and services traded hands... or accounts. His orange eyes pierced through a thousand and more deceptions, but he alone could never pierce them all. These powerful men and women were endless in their greed and vulgar desires. With the world in their hands, they could only want more. A hardened life for every silver spoon... or a million hard working men and women living in poverty for the indulgences of a single person would be more accurate. He hated it, and desired to change this world. Such would not be easy. Such would take time. Such was not his priority for the now, either. He'd done enough for others, in his time, short though it may seem to some. He was only 14, at least in appearance. He wanted peace, in his time. Peace, and to reclaim the one love he'd ever known. And he would search for her to the ends of the cosmos.
