TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 Should we engage Son of Mine and Nighthound in an evil smirking contest? ... Probably not. All of a sudden, every woman in the world would call the police. 2
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 I'm thinking about introducing Metronome just for hillarity purposes but not sure whether to put him in Portland or the Dalles.
Kobold King he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 All of a sudden, every woman in the world would call the police. "Hello, officer? I'd like to report a feeling of mild violation. Coming from Oregon. What do you mean you can't arrest anyone from that alone? I'd like to speak to a female officer, please." I'm thinking about introducing Metronome just for hillarity purposes but not sure whether to put him in Portland or the Dalles. Vondra's secretary? 2
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 "Hello, officer? I'd like to report a feeling of mild violation. Coming from Oregon. What do you mean you can't arrest anyone from that alone? I'd like to speak to a female officer, please." Vondra's secretary? "I'm sorry Madame, for some reason all our female officers left the station a moment ago mumbling about 'putting a stop to this'" Is Vondra likely to have an Epic secretary? If so then consider it canon. 2
Kobold King he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 "I'm sorry Madame, for some reason all our female officers left the station a moment ago mumbling about 'putting a stop to this'" Is Vondra likely to have an Epic secretary? If so then consider it canon. And thus all the women of the world converged in a single location, weapons of all shapes and sizes in their hands. Some wore veils, some wore blue jeans, some wore scraps of rainforest fibers wound around their waists; regardless of culture or religion, age or class, they all united in a single city in Oregon to kill one man. And then Nighthound died. I've actually considered having Redlight function as Vondra's secretary/bodyguard. So there'd be a precedent for Epics working in his offices. 2
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 To be perfectly honest I'm not even sure you could classify Metronome as an Epic, I think a lot of people would just think he was just a guy with a very accurate sense of time. I imagine he'd become something of a joke in the Dalles.
Jo and the Bush all/any Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Oh Hey, Y'all should go back this Kickstarter. Also, What's happening to MEE?
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 They're pretty spread out at the moment, most are still at their base in the school, some are out spying on CM, some are attacking ThoughtTown and some are just wandering.
Edgedancer he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 "I'm sorry Madame, for some reason all our female officers left the station a moment ago mumbling about 'putting a stop to this'" Nighthound wanted dead or deader than dead. 1
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Why did Nighthound cross the road?Who cares, run him over while you can. 3
Kobold King he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Why did Nighthound cross the road? Who cares, run him over while you can. Knock knock. Who's there? Nighthound. Nighthound who--wait. Police! 3
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Two Nighthounds walked into a bar.All cloning technology was immediately and permanently banned and the bar was strapped to a rocket and fired into the sun. 3
TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 Nighthound and Ray walked into a bar. Ray ducked; Nighthound, overconfident in his own immortality, did not. The bar swung out of the way, then back with twice as much force as before. Ray stepped over his body and had a wonderful time by herself. 3
Kobold King he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Nighthound and Ray walked into a bar. Ray ducked; Nighthound, overconfident in his own immortality, did not. The bar swung out of the way, then back with twice as much force as before. Ray stepped over his body and had a wonderful time by herself. What's the difference between Adolf Hitler and Nighthound? Dogs liked Hitler. 3
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 What did one Nighthound say to another Nighthound?"And then Nighthound died."And then Nighthound(s) died. 2
Edgedancer he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Nighthound and Ray walked into a bar. Ray ducked; Nighthound, overconfident in his own immortality, did not. The bar swung out of the way, then back with twice as much force as before. Ray stepped over his body and had a wonderful time by herself. Remmington, David and ssshhhhhh walked into a bar, all of them wanted a drink none of them had enough money. So they decided to settle it with a braging contest. Remington: I killed Koschei the deathless. David: I killed Steelheart ssssshhhhhh: I killed Nighthound The entire world bought ssssshhhhhhh a drink. 2
TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 (edited) Remmington, David and ssshhhhhh walked into a bar, all of them wanted a drink none of them had enough money. So they decided to settle it with a braging contest. Remington: I killed Koschei the deathless. David: I killed Steelheart ssssshhhhhh: I killed Nighthound The entire world bought ssssshhhhhhh a drink. There were two major contenders for the Nobel Peace Prize: the person who killed Nighthound, and the person who invented a completely clean and renewable form of energy. The committee awarded it to the inventor of clean energy, and the world almost erupted into total war. Edited December 18, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles 2
Kobold King he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 There were two major contenders for the Nobel Peace Prize: the person who killed Nighthound, and the person who invented a completely clean and renewable form of energy. The committee awarded it to the inventor of clean energy, and the world almost erupted into total war. Meanwhile the Underworld did erupt into total war, since neither Hades nor Satan wanted to take Nighthound's soul. 2
Seonid he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 When Nighthound choked on a fishbone, it was unanimously decided to award the Nobel Peace Prize to the fishbone, a process that was derailed only after someone noted that the prize could not be awarded posthumously. It was then unanimously decided to clone the fish from the DNA extracted from the bone, and award the prize to the cloned fish. 3
Edgedancer he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 Meanwhile the Underworld did erupt into total war, since neither Hades nor Satan wanted to take Nighthound's soul. Things got really out of control when they shoved him of to eastern hell but realized that would lead to him getting reborn and their soulcleaning could never be sufficient. 2
TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 The ginger scratched his head before shoving his hands in his pockets, looking as awkward as he did excited. "Well, uh," he began, unsure of himself. "It's kind of complicated to explain..." "No it's not!" the woman butted in. The Doctor still couldn't quite keep his eyes away from her. He'd seen diamond planets around Zenebbius VI that didn't glitter as much as she did. "It was all Nathan's idea," the woman chattered happily. "I wanted a pink tuxedo, but he said he didn't want that, which is too bad since he'd look amazing in one--but he was really insistent! It's like he'd wanted a suit like this his entire life!" 'Nathan,' as he was called, gave an uncomfortable cough and shuffled his feet. The Doctor switched his gaze to the young man. A suspicious gaze. "I recognize those clothes," Clara said thoughtfully. "You wore something like that, right Doctor?" "A very long time ago," the Time Lord said softly. "A different me." "The handsome you," Clara quipped, smirking. The Doctor glared irritably. "You should know that there are twelve of me who are very offended by that." "And one feeling smugly vindicated," Clara finished. The woman in the bright dress looked somewhat lost in the discussion, but Nathan could barely hold back a grin. The Doctor caught his stare with a suspicious glare, taking a few steps into his personal space. "How do you know who I am?" the Doctor asked quietly. "I haven't survived two thousand years of time travel by being unobservant. You know me. You know precisely who I am, and that puts you in a very dangerous category of people. So answer me and answer me honestly: how do you know who I am?" The man in the pinstripe coat glanced about nervously. The pudding-brain in the psychedelic dress was looking on with a concerned expression. Concern, laced with another emotion the Doctor recognized on sight. Protectiveness. "I saw you on television," Nathan blurted. "Back in Newcago, we used to watch old DVDs after the casino closed. I watched as much Doctor Who as I could. I mean, Steelheart banned a lot of it, but there were plenty of episodes available if you knew where to look. Especially David Tennant episodes." The Doctor stared blankly at him for a long minute. Thoughts and theories bounced around in his mind, each more unlikely than the last. Nathan is a transdimensional infodroid. Nathan is a rogue boltzmann brain from beyond the Void. Nathan is the Great Intelligence. Nathan is the Master. "So," Clara said with a wide smile stretching across her face. "You're on the telly here?" The Doctor shook his head firmly. "No. That's completely impossible. Data cannot be diffused across dimensional barriers through media outlets! I cannot be on the telly!" "But you are!" Nathan insisted. He turned to his glittery companion, who was watching the conversation with an exaggeratedly confused expression. "Doctor, remember that DVD I showed you at the cottage?" The woman gasped, her hands fluttering to her cheeks. "The one with the grumpy Scottish guy?" "That's the one." Ms. Glitter Pudding-Brain immediately got to her knees, hefting a medium sized rock from the forest floor. She brought it to face level and tossed it into the air. When it fell back to her hand, it was a flat box with a blue theme and a recognizable face. The cover was adorned with the Doctor, Clara at his side, in all his scowling glory. He was, the box proclaimed... "Played by Peter Capaldi," Clara read with a giggle. She pointed straight to the Doctor's chest, mirth unrestrained. "You're a TV star, Doctor!" The Doctor opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated. He took the box from the giggling woman in the absurd dress, processing the impossible. He was a TV star. This had been demonstrated by a woman in what seemed to be a prom dress that was on the wrong end of a paintball fight, who had transfigured a solid rock into a DVD right before his eyes. This was impossible. Impossible in many strange and impossible ways that made other impossibilities in his life look strikingly more plausible. This was absurd. Clara seemed remarkably unperturbed by the situation, pacing around him with a smug smile. Eventually, overcoming her initial fear, she strode over and actually leaned against one of the raptors. The dinosaur only fixed her with a hostile glare, making no move to dislodge the amused mammal. "We've got to get this place's address," Clara proclaimed. ""Because I for one get the feeling I'm going to like it here." "Doctor," a cold voice interrupted. "You have two minutes to explain who these intruders are, why you are allowing them to touch my Warriors, and why in Calamity's name you put a blue phone box in my Museum." The Doctor whipped around at the sound of his name, as did the glittery woman. A man had stepped into the clearing, wearing formal attire flecked with blood. It contrasted deeply with the shamrock green bowler hat that sat upon his head. The professor from hell looked them over with contempt. "Speak quickly before I take them, Doctor. I'm not a patient man." There are some people—gazelle or otherwise—who would have focused on the hat. It commanded one's attention, sitting atop his head in resplendent green, ringed with gaudy stars of fool's gold. The Doctor had met some of those people. Traveled with them. But he was not one of them. The stranger's coat was speckled with blood. Dark crimson patches, some of them turning brown, crusted over and flaking. A bullet hole bespoke some sort regeneration ability, but most patches were nowhere near the hole. That could mean one of two things. One, this stranger was a butcher. Not The Butcher, the Time Lord responsible for the creation of meatballs, but an ordinary human butcher who had acquired a regeneration ability through illicit means and spent his time butchering sheep and cattle. In a tweed jacket. Without an apron. Two, this was a butcher of a much darker persuasion. "Oh, you're not a patient man, are you?" The Doctor strode forward, anger burning through his every word. "Tell me, were you patient with those people you killed? The people who put that blood on your jacket? Unless you're a butcher—and a very poor one—tell me, who put that blood there, and why haven't you washed it off?" "They were in my way." The stranger had leaned away slightly, but hadn't yielded an inch. He smiled coldly. "And now they are not." "In your way, were they?" The Doctor seized him by the collar and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you know what happens to those who are in mine?" Something pressed against the Doctor's side, and he didn't have to look to know it was the barrel of a gun. The stranger smiled. The Doctor returned it. 4
Edgedancer he/him Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 There are some people—gazelle or otherwise—who would have focused on the hat. It commanded one's attention, sitting atop his head in resplendent green, ringed with gaudy stars of fool's gold. The Doctor had met some of those people. Traveled with them. But he was not one of them. The stranger's coat was speckled with blood. Dark crimson patches, some of them turning brown, crusted over and flaking. A bullet hole bespoke some sort regeneration ability, but most patches were nowhere near the hole. That could mean one of two things. One, this stranger was a butcher. Not The Butcher, the Time Lord responsible for the creation of meatballs, but an ordinary human butcher who had acquired a regeneration ability through illicit means and spent his time butchering sheep and cattle. In a tweed jacket. Without an apron. Two, this was a butcher of a much darker persuasion. "Oh, you're not a patient man, are you?" The Doctor strode forward, anger burning through his every word. "Tell me, were you patient with those people you killed? The people who put that blood on your jacket? Unless you're a butcher—and a very poor one—tell me, who put that blood there, and why haven't you washed it off?" "They were in my way." The stranger had leaned away slightly, but hadn't yielded an inch. He smiled coldly. "And now they are not." "In your way, were they?" The Doctor seized him by the collar and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you know what happens to those who are in mine?" Something pressed against the Doctor's side, and he didn't have to look to know it was the barrel of a gun. The stranger smiled. The Doctor returned it. I still wonder why the TARDIS would want to go anywhere near Nighthound. 2
TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 I still wonder why the TARDIS would want to go anywhere near Nighthound. She intended to land on him, like Dorothy's house from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz did to the Wicked Witch of the East. 3
Voidus Posted December 18, 2014 Posted December 18, 2014 *Note to self, get PP to make Funtimes watch the wizard of Oz to give some ideas of something to do with the museum when Nighthound is underneath it* 3
TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her Posted December 18, 2014 Author Posted December 18, 2014 *Note to self, get PP to make Funtimes watch the wizard of Oz to give some ideas of something to do with the museum when Nighthound is underneath it* The book is better—and has better ideas. Oh! Funtimes and Chimera should read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz together! Then Chimera can make Kalidahs (lion-tiger-bear hybrids) while Funtimes figures out the best way to weaponize a village of living china dolls! 3
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