Kobold King

Just our insanity helps? Well then. What would a Pizza-themed Purple Phoenix identity be like?

He would if he knew you were there. And besides, I heard he has a smashing musical rendition of the Book of Revelation. Good for you. I don't think you should lie about what job opportunities are available, but you can privately decide not to apply for any job that would put you too close to them. They're not entitled to make life decisions for you, so if you choose not to apply for this job, then they have no right to put any pressure on you. If they do so any way, then that just gives more reason for you to move the sparks away from them.

Well, I guess if she met a handsome young preacher on one of her karaoke nights it could work as a romantic comedy... Exactly. She has nothing to be afraid of, so fear shouldn't come into the decision-making equation at all. There is a job opening. TwiLyght doesn't want that job. That should be the end of the story, and if her parents don't like it, then they shouldn't have made their daughter want to live on the opposite side of the continent from them.

Hey look, you changed your profile picture! That's one of those new-fangled Pokemans, right? 9/10, makes me smile whenever I look at it.

But that just puts Twi into a position of constantly having to come up with excuses to get out of the house, or sets her up for illogical rants about how she's never at home when they come over. Her job situation really isn't so desperate that she needs to apply for a location she so vehemently opposes.

Babaji's inbox is constantly spammed with innuendos from Shiny Sparkle.

Ah, so he's a dwarf who's succumbed to dragon sickness.

If Peter Jackson belonged to any Middle-Earth race, he'd be a dragon. Ravaging the source material in corporate fire as he rolls around in his bed of wealth.

Not commenting on the content itself, but your title is very spoiler-y to those who haven't read the books. We get a lot of new Sanderfans who haven't read Stormlight, so it's best to keep topic titles themselves free of spoilers for their sake.

Why do I get the feeling Shiny Sparkle would actually dial the number given by the bots?

Don't fight it. Let the ponification flow through you...

That comic fits the situation perfectly. Oh, and the Great Memer has a message for Shiny Sparkle.

Last night I dreamed about an Epic called the Great Memer. He basically just flew around in the depths of space quoting memes all the time, with meme-related powers. He tried to kidnap Sam, so he could take her back to his Meme Castle and maker her his Meme Bride. ... I need to go outside more, don't I? Yes, Mailliw. Let the shipping flow through you. Someone will almost certainly beat me to it, but I'll try to put a post up later.

If it's important to you that you not live that close to them, don't apply. This is your life; don't make the decisions they want you to make because "you'll never hear the end of it" if you don't. If you wind up stuck there and your proximity becomes a problem, you'll wind up more bitter towards them because you'll feel like they forced your hand and are controlling your life still. You don't have to lie, but the worst they can do is yell at you--and they don't have an infinite amount of air in their lungs, nor will they be able to continue doing so if you don't live with them or too close to them. Seriously, if this is important enough to warrant a 'CALAMITY'S SPARKING CUPCAKE' (the very vilest of cusses) then I really, really don't think you should apply to a location you'll despise.

Just watched this. Do you know what I find irritating? The movie was good, and I enjoyed most of it, but a lot of the worldbuilding makes zero sense if you're not familiar with the books. Take the trolls, for instance. The first Hobbit movie makes a big deal about the fact that trolls turn to stone in direct sunlight; it's a major plot point, in fact. The resolution to a tense sequence. However, in this movie there are trolls out in broad daylight fighting alongside their orc masters. My father who's read the books and the Silmarillion babbles about them being Olog-hai, capable of resisting sunlight, but I ask this: does a good movie require vast tomes of additional lore just for its rules to be consistent, or does a good movie explain the rules and keep the audience informed about why some cases are exceptions? If the first movie tells me that trolls are lactose-intolerant and the third has them gorging themselves on sundaes, I shouldn't need to consult a massive decades-old trilogy just to understand the discrepancy.

I wrote a response to Honor Spren's writing prompt thread here. Wasn't sure whether it was appropriate to double post with the much more ridiculous, random entry I also wrote, so I thought I'd post it here instead.

I'm sorry. Whenever I write anything I find particularly valuable, I try to make sure I back it up in a text file on my desktop. My work is saved in the event of an Internet malfunction, and the desktop icon will remind me about it if I forget to finish or send it.

Whenever I find myself worrying about serial killers, I imagine how easily I could turn the tables on them by dressing up in a pink bunny suit and stalking them with a knife. The most terrifying killers of fiction would buckle before a surreal horror like me!

Holy mother of Calamity. That was awesome.

My new favorite observation about the Harry Potter books:

I'm invisible...

Why would you say such a thing? * scuttles back into the Honor Spren's closet to watch her while she's sleeping *

Not bad? I didn't say such for fear of sounding the creep, but you look quite lovely.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. It's funny that a clock of all things was interrupting my takeover of the world. The stupidity of the situation was not lost on me, as I paced the spacious bounds of my office in frustration. Each click of the clock grated on my perfect ears, reminding me of all the things I could be doing with the time being slowly siphoned away. I could be meeting constituents. I could be kissing babies and shaking hands with farmers. I could be meeting with my staff and smearing my imbecile of an opponent more than I already had. In short, I could be accumulating power and winning this blasted election. I could be out there applying my intellect to all this city's awful problems, making a name for myself and working my way up the government ladder. The city needed a mayor like me, and the world at large needed me to prove myself. Yet no matter how much the world needed me, the clock had me enthralled. It wasn't an ordinary clock, of course--a man like me makes his own schedules, clocks be damned. It was my soulpiece; the piece of clockwork that's attuned to each new child, to give an alarm on the minute that child encounters his soulmate. Mine was by far the plainest object in my office. Next to my gold-inlaid mirror, opposite my fine art collection, above my tiger pelt rug, it was only a round timekeeper with obvious screws, a glass front, and not even a hint of style. Oh, how I hated that clock. Yet, it had me enthralled. For in just--oh, three minutes now--it would alert me to the presence of the only other human being who could support me on my endeavors for world benevolence. It seemed all my thirty-seven years were leading up to this; all the years I'd been working my way up I'd been eager for the damnation clock to ring already, just so I could focus on what was really important. I'd dated women here and there, but it was clear none of them really understood the importance of what I aimed to accomplish. I'd often stare at the clock in the privacy of my office, counting its ticks and wondering when a woman brilliant enough to help me on my quest would make herself known. Well, in just a minute now I'd know, wouldn't I? No matter that the building was silent and practically empty, unpopulated by any save I and my secretary. (Whom I'd given strict orders to stay out of my office, of course. A pretty thing she was, and worthy of an affair, but no woman who still monitored her horoscope could be the woman of the soulpiece's prediction.) I watched. I bit my lip in spite of myself. Ten... Nine... This was it. Eight... Seven... Finally, a reprieve from the company of imbeciles. I'd have someone worthy of my talents. Six... Five... Surely I should be hearing footsteps by now? There's no one on this floor but me. Four... Three... What if it was all just a hoax, a scam by the soulpiece industry? I should have taken that into account. I've passed IQ tests that would leave Stephen Hawking stumped. Two... Did the phrase "soulmate" even have any meaning to a man such as I? A man so far beyond any woman he'd ever encountered? There was only one person in the world who could help me reach my goals, and that was-- One. It all fell into place. I stood in the floor, grin spreading across my face. My back facing my fine art works, my gaze far above the tiger pelt rug. Still smiling in relief and glee at solving the puzzle, I picked up the soulpiece, held it over my head, and smashed it against the table, over and over until nothing but springworks remained. These I brushed aside for the maids to deal with later, as I smiled at the one person in the world worthy of myself. He smiled back, and his lips mouthed the next words in perfect unison with my own. "This above all--to thine own self be true."

More seriously, for Altermind to have reigned supreme in Portland for so long I think he'd need to have had a trump card against rival Epics. The ability to trigger this level of pain can be thwarted by a clever player, but still makes him pretty powerful. Personally, this is the sort of one-hit KO that I find pretty fun to try to get around, as opposed to one that requires nerfing.