Kobold King

You are the George R. R. Martin of zombie caribou stories. A brilliant writer with a savage streak a mile wide. Upvote.

So, um... where are they taking the hobbits? Storm it, Twi! I was about to post that.

Alas, only CorpseMaker can kill with indignation alone. Just to be clear, are Stitch and Yorrick the two who are in the Museum entrance hall? Is there anyone else standing with them whom I'm forgetting? Would a quick physical description of both of them be too much to ask for?

Don't forget that we're talking about an Epic who's on the ATTD list. He will not react well.

I'm planning on getting Lightwards up later today.

Um.. am I the only one who wants to know what kind of gyms Twi's been to that seem to think longbows are an acceptable part of physical education?

I... I feel slightly less sane for having read that. Which is to say, excellent job and now I want MOAR.

Weren't you around when we had ourselves legally declared a cult?

Fixed that for you.

I think literally millions of undead caribou would be a threat worthy of her attention. Especially considering how easy it would be for her to take care of; one tornado could easily suck up every zombie caribou in seconds and I can't believe I just seriously typed that sentence.

I remember you from the "Having a Bad Day" thread. You're the one who has trouble finding fitting genes, right?

How do you know that isn't me? I forward issues of Exciting Advances in Donkey Genetics to all my friends. EDIT: Drat, I need to ask a question. Quiver, are you at all interested in donkey genetics...?

TwiLyght is the sweet caramel to this thread's Snickers bar.

2spooky4me. * shivers *

I fully sympathize with everything you just said. Each word seemed to speak to me on a basic, inherent level. Wow. This test rocks.

According to that explanation, INTJs are I may need to do some psychological studies to be sure, but I don't think they did this right. I expect a higher level of personal accuracy in an online quiz like this. Give me a week and I'll assemble my critique of their system.

Thanks! I just scored INTJ. I still don't really know what that means, and I'm a little disappointed I didn't wind up in INTP with you and all those smart guys, but I'll take what I can get.

Is there an online quiz or something I can take for this? Because I have no idea what any of these are. Truth be told, when I look at them the first thing that comes to mind is the four-letter classification system for alien lifeforms in my favorite science fiction series, which is probably not the correct context for them.

Deathwish would object to it solely on grounds that the word "convict" implies that he got caught for one of his many misdeeds.

We picked up a stray cat. We've done this several times since we've moved here, since there are a lot of stray cats in this part of texas. (There are a lot of slontzes who dump unwanted animals in the scrubland. ) This newest cat is a female whose litter of kittens drowned in the latest flood. As you can imagine, this is quite a traumatic event for a mother cat to go through. She's also thin enough for us to suspect she's been having a rough time in the outside world, and tame enough that we suspect she was only recently dumped. (Possibly because she got pregnant.) So we brought her into our cabin, feeding her expensive canned cat food and giving her all the attention a cat could ask for. If you'll pardon the pun--we've been treating her like a queen. Unfortunately, we did not factor in a crucial part of feline biology. A mother cat who's lost her kittens will immediately go back into heat to replace her lost litter, and we have a lot of tomcats at our place. Since we don't have the money to care for any more litters of kittens, our lives have turned into a constant battle to keep our newest pet from seeking out the attentions of every tomcat on the farm. She roams through the house mrowing, a siren's call that attracts every tom we have to wait on our doorstep. She greets them by the windows, touching noses with them through the glass. It comes close to being vaguely romantic at times. It's infuriating all the time. Now if you'll excuse me, I believe our cat is giving a feline rendition of the Balcony Speech from Romeo and Juliet on the windowsill. I'd better break this up...

Backtrack = a four year-old vanilla in a wheelchair. That's the hardest I've laughed all day.

Surely even Sightline would realize Backtrack's not worth the minimal effort it would take to kill him. That's about what I thought, and it's already been incorporated into several of my characters in the RP. (Arsenal creates pieces of gadgets that reflect his mood without meaning too and Lightwards' dinosaurs grow agitated at the same time he does.)

Vondra, Glamour, and Deathwish posts up. Arsenal and Backtrack to come at a later date. I have too many Epics help me

Autumn nodded her head slowly, her cheeks turning red with shame. She stood in silence for a minute, prompting Vondra to feel pity for her situation. There weren't many Epics available to her, and there were few fit for guard duty. Glamour was too wrapped up in his own musical world to be of much assistance. The Florist might very well rebel if asked to leave his gardens for so long. Scribbler and Edgerunner weren't mature enough to handle the responsibility. The most sensible option--provided Vondra didn't shoot him the moment he next saw him--would be the Epic most inclined to make passes at her every hour of the day. He opened his mouth to remind her that they all made sacrifices for the well-being of the city, when she burst out with the one option he hadn't considered. ​"What about Vapor Snake?" she suggested shyly. "I know he lost control, but he's always gained it back before. How about I interview him in the morning, and if it goes well, would you offer him the job? He has both offensive and defensive powers that he could train me to use, and he's the only Epic in the city who asked you to use his weakness on him if he lost control." Vondra paused, surprised by the suggestion. Vapor Snake. The one City Guard Epic to have betrayed his oaths and attacked his city. But as Autumn had pointed out, he was also the one Epic who had helped the create the contingency plan for his own termination. These things combined made him both more dangerous than Deathwish and more trustworthy than Arsenal. Softer than Edgerunner but a greater risk than Reader. "I suppose..." he said slowly, casting a glance at Rhonda. She was giving him a flat, unreadable expression before returning to the study of her tablet, giving no indication what she thought about the idea. A shame--he would have liked to hear a lorist's opinion on Vapor's merit as a guard. More firmly, he made a decision on his own and looked Autumn in the eye. "You have my approval. I'll want him evaluated by both you and Reader, just in case. Even if he passes your scrutiny I don't want you alone with him. He's too big of a risk." Autumn nodded at the words, and Vondra continued, glancing at the clock hanging over his desk. "With that settled... I think it's time to dismiss you for the day. You've done good work today, but we'll need you fresh enough to do your duties in the morning." "Yes sir," Autumn agreed with another nod of her head. If she was thinking anything else, then she didn't say it as she began to walk out the door. She looked tired and nervous, as was to be expected from a young woman who'd spent the day molested by a powerful Epic and would spend the next day interviewing one who might very well murder her at his first opportunity. Well, he could at least put her first concern at ease. "Autumn?" The redheaded woman froze in the doorframe, looking back at him with her sagging doe eyes. "I intend to have words with Ms. Sparkle when she returns from downtown. When you wake up tomorrow, she'll either be off your back or dead." Autumn flushed as red as her hair at the mention of her molester, but nodded her head again. "Yes--thank you sir." She flashed a weak smile and headed out of the room, leaving Vondra alone with his secretary. Taylor Swift, pop icon and cutest thing to grace the music industry since Cyndi Lauper, stood among the smoldering remains of dead panda samurai as she chortled and assured her fan that he hadn't lost his mind. Somehow, Glamour found himself still slightly skeptical. "I hope I didn't startle you too badly," Taylor Swift went on, flashing teeth that seemed far too white to exist in a post-toothpaste world. "I just heard you singing my music, and couldn't resist coming over to check it out. It's been a while since I've been able to stalk one of my own fans, and its been a lot harder since the internet went down, so I couldn't resist. I'd be happy to sign something if you wanted. What's your name?" Abners. Wilbert Abners, was what he almost responded with. But he found himself putting his hands in his pockets and leaning back, smiling as he answered-- "Glamour." And with that answer he formed a glowing green aura around himself, allowing it to dance and fluctuate around him to the beat of the faint music strumming from the iPod. "I'm with the City Guard," he explained, hoping that he sounded at least somewhat as cool as the big shots she'd be used to dealing with. "We're sort of the last surviving bastion of civilization in this crazy world now. You happened to wander into the only city that still has running water, electricity, coffee makers, iPods, and all that other cool stuff America used to have. I could get you hooked up, if you want. Get you quarters and a food card." He paused, looking at her slightly askance. "Are you..." How should he phrase this question? Was it rude to just come right out and ask someone if they had superpowers? He didn't mind being rude to Edgey or the Arse, but this was Taylor Swift he was talking to. One did not simply ask Taylor Swift if she had superpowers without a certain smoothness. Deciding on the smoothest possible course of action, he smiled and said "So... are you an Epic, or just epic in general?" "Not a crook... not a crook..." It turned out shouting at an empty street in an incandescent Epic rage took a lot out of you. So did splatting against a sidewalk and having to pull yourself together with a siren blaring. It wasn't exactly Deathwish's preferred way to tire himself out in an evening. Still grumbling quietly to himself, he leaned against his lamppost and banged his head quietly against the metal bar. Those storming guards still haven't gotten here, he observed to himself, glaring at the empty street. I bet that slontze deliberately called a team from the other end of the city just to leave me here longer. 'That slontze,' of course, was Arsenal. Or "Arse," as he was also called. Or "The 70 Year-Old Virgin." Or "Will No Longer Have a Skull When I Get My Hands On Him"... He spent a while contemplating alternative names for the Tool Man before a giant walking orange stepped around a street corner and into view. Deathwish immediately got to his feet, blinking while trying to make out the slontze walking towards his lamppost. The orange freak was clearly another one of the new Epics in the city, though he didn't recall seeing him downtown with Impact's gang. He seemed to be one of those Epics who followed a theme to a fault, as literally every shred of fabric on him was a shade of orange that most tangerines would be ashamed of. His T-shirt was orange. He wore a pair of orange sunglasses. He wore orange swim trunks with an orange iPod pinned to them. He was bright and unmistakable, clearly the kind of Epic who had no fear of being ambushed or challenged. The kind of slontze Deathwish would love to beat the sparks out of on any other day. Only... Deathwish glanced at the manacles that bound his hand to the lamppost, then back to the orange guy again. This could be a problem. Or... an opportunity. Smirking like a guy who wasn't cuffed to a post and waiting for the cops to pick him up, Deathwish raised his free hand and called out to the guy. "Yeesh," he yelled in mock disgust, "What the sparks happened to you?" He leaned against his post and yawned, trying to make it look like he'd chosen to hang out around it. "You know there are easier ways to repel women, my friend. And if you're the kind of guy who thinks that's an intimidating way to dress, you're probably a natural at it already."

Probably not... but I kind of want to write a fanfiction about Lift stealing the Lord Ruler's dinner now.