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Posted

You posted something? When was this? 

 

When was what...?

 

Ah, forget it. :P I found a new song for Mobius which I think is much more fitting. "Want You Gone," From Portal II. It fits because Mobius doesn't really like killing or fighting anyone. She just... wants them gone.

Posted

I like it. :)

 

I also thought Nightmare Night was a good song from the perspective of her subjects. 

 

I like that one as well--how to pick?

 

I guess "Want You Gone" fits as something sung from her point of view, while "Nightmare Night"  summarizes what everyone else thinks of her. (I'm still trying to find a suitable name for her holdings, by the way. Right now I'm thinking "Kingdom of Calamityville," as she's pouring a lot of time and resources into arranging telescopes and astronomers into the study of Calamity.)

Posted

I like that one as well--how to pick?

I guess "Want You Gone" fits as something sung from her point of view, while "Nightmare Night" summarizes what everyone else thinks of her. (I'm still trying to find a suitable name for her holdings, by the way. Right now I'm thinking "Kingdom of Calamityville," as she's pouring a lot of time and resources into arranging telescopes and astronomers into the study of Calamity.)

"Calamityville" sounds like "Amityville," the setting of many horrors. Since living under Möbius would be a horrorshow, I find that oddly appropriate.

Posted

I forgot about that. I think he'll realize they're different. Since the 200 were green army men, were they not? 

 

No, they look like Normal US Army Soldiers. Human in all shape and form. Just mindless.

Posted

"Calamityville" sounds like "Amityville," the setting of many horrors. Since living under Möbius would be a horrorshow, I find that oddly appropriate.

 

Calamityville exists as tightly packed collection of pocket universes all sealed off from one another, all contained within an even bigger pocket universe. Different neighborhoods usually remain isolated from one another, except when Mobius briefly opens portals to connect them all at strategic points in the day. If Mobius goes on a trip to another part of the Fractured States--which she does often--you'll simply have to wait until her return before you can visit neighbors, or your family if you were in the wrong part of town when she left.

 

Still though, it's not all bad. There are neighborhoods devoted to agriculture, bureaucracy, and science. Crime's kept pretty low, since Mobius and her minor Epics crack down on miscreants pretty hard. And unlike in cities like Newcago, Epics aren't allowed to murder you in the street without provocation; Mobius isn't pleased when she has to capture more citizens to restock the population, so she gave out decrees protecting the common people. Not out of compassion, mind you; it's more of a "King's deer" mentality. She regards Epic murderers the same way one might regard a poacher.

 

But once you've gotten used to the shifting neighborhoods and the job you've been assigned, it's not that bad. Mobius genuinely wants to rule over a healthy, efficient population. Granted, sometimes her utopian ambitions lead to horrors for the people to experience. Her second in command, a flesh-controlling Epic named Slaughterhouse, is sometimes granted permission to carry out social experiments. One of his more well-known projects involved altering the muscular layout of Calamityville's farmers, allowing them to carry much greater loads. Granted, the new muscle mass constricting their bodies made it hard for them to breathe; and sure, many of them were so disgusted with the twisted abominations they had become that they tried to kill themselves. But after four hundred of the altered farmers died from medical complications, Mobius forbade Slaughterhouse from optimizing any more citizens without a doctor's consent.

 

So all things considered... Calamityville is a pretty nice place to live!

Posted

Calamityville exists as tightly packed collection of pocket universes all sealed off from one another, all contained within an even bigger pocket universe. Different neighborhoods usually remain isolated from one another, except when Mobius briefly opens portals to connect them all at strategic points in the day. If Mobius goes on a trip to another part of the Fractured States--which she does often--you'll simply have to wait until her return before you can visit neighbors, or your family if you were in the wrong part of town when she left.

Still though, it's not all bad. There are neighborhoods devoted to agriculture, bureaucracy, and science. Crime's kept pretty low, since Mobius and her minor Epics crack down on miscreants pretty hard. And unlike in cities like Newcago, Epics aren't allowed to murder you in the street without provocation; Mobius isn't pleased when she has to capture more citizens to restock the population, so she gave out decrees protecting the common people. Not out of compassion, mind you; it's more of a "King's deer" mentality. She regards Epic murderers the same way one might regard a poacher.

But once you've gotten used to the shifting neighborhoods and the job you've been assigned, it's not that bad. Mobius genuinely wants to rule over a healthy, efficient population. Granted, sometimes her utopian ambitions lead to horrors for the people to experience. Her second in command, a flesh-controlling Epic named Slaughterhouse, is sometimes granted permission to carry out social experiments. One of his more well-known projects involved altering the muscular layout of Calamityville's farmers, allowing them to carry much greater loads. Granted, the new muscle mass constricting their bodies made it hard for them to breathe; and sure, many of them were so disgusted with the twisted abominations they had become that they tried to kill themselves. But after four hundred of the altered farmers died from medical complications, Mobius forbade Slaughterhouse from optimizing any more citizens without a doctor's consent.

So all things considered... Calamityville is a pretty nice place to live!

Um....if you say so. I'll just stay where I am. Killer plants at least give you delicious fruit part of the year, and they don't give a flip about your muscle mass.

Thanks for the offer, though.

Posted

Um....if you say so. I'll just stay where I am. Killer plants at least give you delicious fruit part of the year, and they don't give a flip about your muscle mass.

Thanks for the offer, though.

 

That's exactly the kind of conventional thinking that keeps society enslaved to itself. If you don't think outside the box, how are you supposed to spread your wings and fly?

 

(Fun fact: some of Slaughterhouse's servants literally have wings now. :P)

 

Hmm... I should go make a profile + pony for Slaughterhouse. Fun for all ages!

Posted

That's exactly the kind of conventional thinking that keeps society enslaved to itself. If you don't think outside the box, how are you supposed to spread your wings and fly?

(Fun fact: some of Slaughterhouse's servants literally have wings now. :P)

Hmm... I should go make a profile + pony for Slaughterhouse. Fun for all ages!

I like the ground. The ground is nice. And I prefer to walk on it with two matching feet, the ones I have always had with no modifications, thank you very much. I am also fond of my other limbs the way they are, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to perform an experiment of my own with Slaughterhouse and a gun to see what can kill him. For society's benefit, you understand.

Posted

I like the ground. The ground is nice. And I prefer to walk on it with two matching feet, the ones I have always had with no modifications, thank you very much. I am also fond of my other limbs the way they are, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to perform an experiment of my own with Slaughterhouse and a gun to see what can kill him. For society's benefit, you understand.

 

Now that's what I call scientific thinking!

 

For your information, he can reconstitute his own flesh instantly from any damages. He could even survive as a molten, boneless blob of flesh, oozing under doors and slipping through sewer pipes to facilitate his escape.

 

He's particularly fond of flattening his body into a stretch of bloodied skin and then hiding under people's beds.

 

TwiLyght: Mistress of the Crack Pairing.

 

Kobold King: The Dread Master of Fridge Horror.

 

:P

Posted

Now that's what I call scientific thinking!

For your information, he can reconstitute his own flesh instantly from any damages. He could even survive as a molten, boneless blob of flesh, oozing under doors and slipping through sewer pipes to facilitate his escape.

He's particularly fond of flattening his body into a stretch of bloodied skin and then hiding under people's beds.

TwiLyght: Mistress of the Crack Pairing.

Kobold King: The Dread Master of Fridge Horror.

:P

Yeah. No kidding. Fridge horror at its finest.

I suppose I'll have to resort to other methods. Poison? Brain damage? A Justin Beiber concert? All excellent ideas.

(And no, I am NOT shipping Slaughterhouse with anyone except his weakness and Remington's loaded rifle. That's the only OTP for this guy. :P)

Posted

No, they look like Normal US Army Soldiers. Human in all shape and form. Just mindless.

Are they physically the same as humans though? Do they have organs, etc.? Trying to decide if powers that only work on non-living things would affect them.

Posted

On a different note, did we ever decide if Oregon still had power?

Thoughttown's power is the most consistent. Other areas like the Empire have electricity provided in places by those who bought generators in preparation for the apocalypse. Oregon and Washington have a lot of preppers, so I'd imagine there would be more than a few homes with electricity, with those who didn't have it sharing with those who did.

Posted

Slaughterhouse

 

Pre-Calamity Information

 

Arnold Grisslie wasn't what you would call a "professional." His back alley den in San Diego didn't have the faintest hint of medical authority, and yet saw more young women cut open and stuffed with plastics than half the professional clinics on the west coast.

 

Yes--Grisslie was a shady back alley surgeon in the grand tradition of shady back alley surgeons. Young women desperate to make it big in Hollywood all filtered into his dark alley, where he would cut along the dotted lines and work his dubiously legal magic. Most survived the operation itself; a few died a few years later from the dangerous plastics he used in his trade, but the vast majority lived long enough to spout his virtues to close friends and contacts.

 

This went on for a number of years, until Grisslie began to expand his trade. There are many countless cases of good men corrupted by Calamity; Arnold Grisslie was not one of these men. His ethics were drifting from the straight and narrow long before he received his powers. In addition to stuffing aspiring actresses and ironing out the wrinkles from aging women, Grisslie began to deal in organs. Most of the organs he got came from third world countries in Asia or Latin America; Grisslie would inspect them before shuffling them off to a nearby hospital, where the doctors knew better than to ask probing questions. Eventually, the plastic surgeon began to harvest more local sources of income. Some of his patients--the ones with no contacts to speak of, who wouldn't be missed--began to show up in pieces, sealed in neat little containers delivered to the local hospital. The doctors who worked there began to privately refer to his establishment as "the slaughterhouse."

 

Of course, he couldn't get away with it forever. He got greedy. Arnold Grisslie killed a couple of women who had more suspicious contacts than he'd thought, and before he knew it had the police at his door. A warrant was procured--Grisslie was arrested. Grisslie was kept out of the public eye in the hopes that the media wouldn't catch on to the case and inspire copycats. He was given a life sentence and plopped into a secure cell.

 

Eventually an impossible star appeared in the sky. Eventually the law enforcement became too preoccupied with droves of supernatural criminals to ensure security was as tight as it should be. And so nobody noticed when Arnold Grisslie slipped through the bars of his cell, leaving his bones behind him.

 

Powers and Abilities

 

A new Epic began to rampage across San Diego, bearing the name of Slaughterhouse. He quickly became known for perpetrating some of the most creatively atrocious acts of the new age.

 

Slaughterhouse possessed the ability to control human flesh. He could cause it to grow or retract in any way he desired; he could rewrite a human body's entire anatomy, shaping men, women, and children into creatures scarcely recognizable as being Homo sapiens. No bullet could kill him, as his own body was subject to this same control. Even a shot to the brain would only go so far, as the remaining grey matter could subconsciously rebuild the rest of it. When thrown into a fire, he simply morphed into an enormous hulk of scar tissue and stormed out. When shredded into hundreds of pieces, the neural network simply regrew and connected the giblets, forming an aggressive living net made entirely of flesh. Slaughterhouse was feared by many.

 

This power was only at its most precise when he touched the target; while his power would work from a distance, he was limited to crude uses of the power such as leaving random ruptures across the target's body.

 

Current Status

 

Slaughterhouse established a small land holding for himself north of San Diego, where he was supported by a staff of servants who were often forced to undergo "corrective improvements." Many of his servants sported wings, additional eyes, and permanent smiles. Suicide rates were quite high, forcing Slaughterhouse to patrol the surrounding areas and abduct new minions.

 

During one of these patrols, Slaughterhouse encountered a young woman wearing plain attire, apparently engaged in destroying a sushi bar from a long distance away. She irritably introduced herself as Möbius, the mistress of Calamityville.

 

Slaughterhouse proceeded to make a pair of ill-advised comments about Möbius' chest and how it could be improved, resulting in him spending the next four months in a pocket universe consisting of nothing but himself, a patch of sand, and a few cacti. While most of Möbius' victims died within such an amount of time, Slaughterhouse managed to reconstruct his body to subsist entirely on cacti and his own body mass. He thus survived four months, his biomass steadily shrinking to only a fraction of its previous size.

 

Möbius usually doesn't ever check back on those she traps, but in this case, she stumbled across the location quite by chance. Slaughterhouse's universe was one of those she didn't distance far from our own, so she could still hear the faint sound of his breaths and groans. She entered and was astonished to find the impolite surgeon as a flat piece of flesh stretched out on a rock, a few basic organs and a brain connected via neural wires.

 

Deciding that such an Epic would be a useful addition to her growing kingdom, Möbius brought him to the Kingdom of Calamityville, where another Epic in her employ assisted in reconditioning him as a useful asset. Nowadays Slaughterhouse is a trusted member of her brigade, and is responsible for military excursions, social experiments, and occasionally diplomatic meetings. He is granted twenty servants per month, with which he is allowed to do whatever he pleases.

 

Slaughterhouse is reportedly very happy with his current position, and would give his kind regards to anyone whose bed he slumbers under.

 

Slaughterhouse as a pony:

 

e00b90954519bfe7a68a1b1c93f5ca70.png

 

Whew. That turned out longer than I'd anticipated.

roflbot.jpg

Posted (edited)

Argh! Somebody upvote that because my stupid phone decided I really wanted to down vote you. Sorry about that. Anyway....

"Its your weakness, ain't it?"

Slaughterhouse's lips twisted contemptuously. "I have no weakness."

Had Remington less experience with Epics, he may have believed him. But Remington was no rookie. Slaughterhouse was in the presence of his weakness and a man who knew to use it.

Remington did not smile. Executions were solemn occasions, and he never relished taking a life. He simply held Slaughterhouse against the wall with one hand and lifted his pistol with the other. He pressed the barrel to the Epic's forehead.

"Then go to hell."

He pulled the trigger.

There. Slaughterhouse's OTP.

Edited by TwiLyghtSansSparkles
Posted

Done. (Although Kobold has already passed Peter so don't feel too bad about downvoting him :P )
I like Slaughterhouse, is he limited to people or could he use animals as well?

Posted (edited)

Toymaker's creations match their Real Counterparts in everyway, except possesing a mind. If she touches a Nerf gun, it wil;l turn into a real gun, and is affected by everything that affects real guns. If it's destroyed, the pieces will revert back to nerf gun pieces.

 

A Human made by Toymaker can be killed much like a Normal Human. Nighthound would be able to take control of them, CorpseMaker would be able to kill them. they cannot posses Epic Powers. When they die, They revert back to their previous toy shape, and cannont be reused. This means that Lightwards couldn't control them. Illusions affect them. Their clothes are part of them as well. If Sightline teleports them, their equipment comes with them. A Gifter Healer cann't heal them, though it's unknown why.

 

EDIT: I added that Song to my Sig.

Edited by The Only Joe
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