Kobold King

But it's said she warms up to people who gift her with good dinner dates. Book a night at an excellent restaurant and you'll go thaw.

Is... is this really happening? Are they really making this movie? I can't find much on Mr. Blanchard, but he's also tasked with the Independence Day sequel that's currently in development.

Uh... they spent it all... on a bathroom... that they don't even want to use? Congratulations Twi's parents, Disgust is speechless. And Sadness says he's sorry you have to deal with this nonsense, by the way.

Alright, I won't tell him. Disgust, though, is awfully curious. DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY INSPIRATION? DEVIANTART IS THE BEST THING EVER.

My 17th Shard behavior, explained via ponies and Pixar's Inside Out. Joy's a wacky one, but I owe most of Upvote Island to him.

I'm curious about this magic system.

Indeed. If she ever becomes an Epic after all, her weakness will be flirtatious redheads.

Backtrack would be sad because Squirrel Girl is more of a badchull than he'd ever be. Lightwards would think they're fools. Aldo would think they're quite stylish. Vondra would find them pompous and arrogant. Deathwish would have the time of his life when the female heroes come to town. Sam and Revolution would post notices everywhere warning people about the invasion of the supermodel clowns.

Seeing how much trouble Twi's having making her setting's superpowers halfway realistic within physical laws, I feel better and better at my decision to make magic entirely spiritual in my setting. No offense to you, Twi. Your setting's awesome. But I'm way too lazy to do all the work you're having to do.

For the first time that night, there was true order in the clinic. The princess in the blue dress was curled up on the floor, bleeding and obviously aware who the true authorities in this town were. Game seemed to remember his job was tending to the wounded, not meddling in his superior's plans, and was wrapping the woman's calf with a bandage. Ozymandias was clever enough to keep his mouth closed, and Scribbler hadn't pulled any more pranks that he could see. Finally, this long day was starting to brighten up. "It seems some of you are beginning to realize how things are in this town," Arsenal said with approval. "Follow orders and refrain from causing any chaos, and you'll do just fine here." He turned to leave the building, but halted as a sniveling voice came through a certain dog crate. “Um, sir," Reader began, more cautiously than usual, "if I may, how am I going to get to my quarters while I’m locked up in this dog crate? For that matter, how am I going to get my nose fixed and set while I’m in here? Could someone help a guy out and unlock this and get these weights off my arms?” Arsenal sighed, but signaled for a standing Guard to release the caged Epic. "Take him to his quarters. He can have his nose looked at in the morning." The Guard helped Reader out of his cage, and the man--for once--didn't say anything asinine as he was escorted out of the clinic. Another set of Guards volunteered to bring Ozymandias to spare quarters, and soon the clinic was empty save for Arsenal, the doctor and his patient, and Scribbler. Scribbler. Lucy Lockser. The girl looking at her shoes, almost trepid. The only Epic in town whose powers were a match for his own in versatility, but who wallowed in her own uselessness rather than serve her town. "Lockser," Arsenal growled, his tone disciplining. "You should call your parents and inform them you won't be home tonight. You'll be spending a while here restocking the doctor's supplies. And when you are finished with that, you'll be restocking ammunition and weapon depots across town. Take ten minute breaks if you need to, but I want this town fully prepared for whatever tomorrow has in store for us." The girl's face was the picture of dismay, but Arsenal turned away and strode out the door before he could hear any pleas or complaints. The clinic was in order. That was all that mattered. Now to move on and regulate the rest of this dysfunctional city. Outpost by outpost if he had too. This city was too important to be killed by anything as easily preventable as incompetence or disorder. He clambered into his ambulance, and was inserting a ready-made key to start the engine when his radio flared to life. "Nesbit to Commander Arsenal. Fawkes just brought in in a new Epic, but Glass and Reader are unavailable for screening. What are your orders?" Arsenal suppressed a groan, leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Another Epic? And the only town operative fit to process him was Nesbit, a woman whose chief usefulness to the town was the ability to pound keys on a computer? Why the blazes were there so many new Epics today of all days? Were they all connected to the Panda? Were they all in league? Was God tired of the town's staleness and actively trying to shake the city into action? Whatever the reason, he simply couldn't deal with another Epic tonight. He was too old and tired for this, and he could hardly demonstrate the city's might in his current condition. Besides, it'd do the newcomer good to be made to wait on the city's pleasure. "Have him taken to temporary quarters for the night, Nesbit," Arsenal ordered tersely."Put the quarters under armed guard. If he resists, terminate him if possible or contact me if not." And if he survives attempted termination, he'll wish he hadn't if I have to get involved. "Yes, sir," came Nesbit's chipper reply over the radio, and she cut out the transmission. With that out of the way, he picked up the key again and revved on the engine... ...Only to halt as the bright headlights of a Guard truck pulled in front of the clinic. A couple of Guards themselves came out, escorting a squirrelly young man and a blonde woman in a plaid skirt. "Commander," a lieutenant saluted, approaching the ambulance. "This pair of Epics here asked to speak to you. Name's are Backtrack and MV, but other than that we couldn't get much info out of them." Stifling a sigh, Arsenal clambered back out of the car and strode towards them. The man looked sheepish, maybe even scared; the girl looked only scarcely more likely to cry than he did. The two of them were probably the least Epic pair of individuals he'd seen all day. "For what reason," Arsenal snapped tiredly, "Have you come here to speak to me? What need of yours is so urgent you require a Guard commander himself to attend to your whim?"

Just like Epics don't care about morality! It's the perfect allegory!

Shadowing him like a lactose-intolerant pug shadows a dairy-free omelet.

Sigh. * opens PM *

To be fair, he might have acquired the ability to cook superb mashed potatoes from Instabam off-screen.

I feel the same way with the few of you I know the faces of. It's always cool, don't get me wrong, but it's pretty weird seeing you guys as anything but your profile pictures.

Currently considering her as a fourteen year-old human girl who grew up on a Russian colony world. I'm pretty pleased with the name I picked out for her: Ilyena Vchera. "Vchera" being the Russian word for "yesterday," hinting at her powers. I always admired the J.K. Rowling method of naming characters.

Currently envisioning a retrocog in the distant future, who's gone mad with her visions of the past and has become something of an insane prophetess leading a violent crusade across the galaxy. She has a robot arm that she's come to believe possesses the reincarnated soul of Genghis Khan, and she addresses it accordingly. It's not her robotic arm, mind you--she has both her original limbs intact. It's a prosthetic arm she tore off the body of a mercenary she killed, and she waves it around and talks to it like Woody with Buzz's arm in Toy Story. I'm not sure how to work this into my current setting, but I know that I very much want to.

He's awesome, though I admit I never imagined him with such prominent eyelashes.

Ooh, I recognize that. He's Ozymandias, right?

Like a sir.

Will this work?

Could you give me an indication of what colors they should be? You definitely earned the votes. That post is incredimazible. I rate it ten croutons out of ten.

If only there were ponified versions of Koschei's two henchmen from the first Dalles post... (Thanks. ) By the way, have you noticed that your original Portland post now has 17 upvotes?

The best medium, I suppose. Unfortunately the best I can manage is pony comics.