Kobold King

If they're all as awesome as Aphasia, then yes.

New Dalles post up. "In Which Both Backtrack and Deathwish Resemble Bad Luck Brian."

MV... actually seemed to be enjoying herself. Her eyes flitted with wonder at all the extinct fishies that swam near, and she even held onto him with both arms as they walked. "Very cool," she said softly. "And very beautiful." Backtrack felt his pride grow three sizes in his chest. She thinks I'm cool! Even without my glasses! A couple of age-old fish drifted by them, courting each other in a ritual no human had been around to see. There was something empowering about the thought. "You're definitely not the strongest Epic in Oregon, Backtrack," MV said, smiling dreamily, "but you do know how to treat a girl." Her face grew thoughtful, as if remembering something. "Well sometimes you do, anyway." Backtrack frowned slightly. What was she talking about? Oh. His entrance to Portland. Overflowing with pride and confidence. Putting arms around girls he'd just met and calling a High Epic by his human name. He'd made a fool of himself. He'd made mistakes. A lot of mistakes. And MV remembered them. Without his willing it to do so, the ocean around them began flickering. Like someone flipping a light switch on and off, the scene around them kept turning from a dark street back to the ocean and back to the street again. The fish seemed to move in jerking, erratic movements, like a video trying to stream without good Wi-Fi. Backtrack chuckled awkwardly. "Uh, just a couple of technical difficulties. No big deal." He switched to another 'tab,' looking for where he'd been keeping up with Impact. Sparks. His powers going on the fritz made him lose track of her. He desperately flipped through the past few hours scanning for her unique past-thoughts, growing more confused by the second. "Uh," he began awkwardly. "I'm a little mixed up, actually. Your sister either flew downtown, where we're heading... or she flew that way into a big building. I'm... having a hard time telling." He gave gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, while cursing Calamity in his head. If you had to give me the weakest powers in the country, couldn't you at least have made them harder to turn off? The girl immediately began descending into the building, the building's dim and flickering fluorescent lights illuminating her descent. She swooped down to the bottom level, landing amid a line of tanks to begin her search. She didn't see me right away, Deathwish thought cautiously, slowly circling the closest tank. Just need to wait till she's distracted and I can hightail it out of here. Once they were outside again, it'd just be a matter of time before he wore her down. He'd seen her touch her wound, implying that she didn't have accelerated healing or anything else inconvenient. He just needed to poke enough holes in her, and eventually... Suddenly tanks started flying. Further along the lines several tanks began lifting up and throwing themselves across the building, colliding with other tanks and filling the armory with the sound of their crashing. Striding among them, a little down the line from Deathwish himself, was Impact. She walked smoothly across the floor, sending the tanks careening out of her way with slight strokes of her fingers. Without paying attention, she sent a tank roaring through the air and straight for Deathwish's face. Sparks! ...Wait, I want her to hit me. Funny how having a tank thrown at you could make you think like a vanilla. Disappointingly, the chick seemed to realize her mistake at the last minute, flying through the air and blasting the tank through one of the building walls and out onto the street. She swiveled in the air and faced him with a furious expression. Though he smiled out of habit, the only thought in Deathwish's head was 'Sparks!' If she could throw tanks with a single finger, he might not have a chance if she managed to touch him. If she slammed him around just enough to break bones... Before Impact could resume her attack, a set of guards appeared at the other end of the room, immediately raising machine guns and blasting clips into the intruding teenager. Deathwish took his opportunity to accelerate upwards through the holes in the floors, catching only a glimpse of bullets ricocheting off the chick's body as he left. He soared directly for the skylight, determined to break through and get back out into the open, but he was forced to swerve onto another floor as Impact went hurtling upwards with a terrified soldier in hand. He fumbled and rolled into a weapon shelf, cursing as he pulled himself to his feet. The downside was that he was still trapped in the building with a girl who could throw tanks with a touch and could probably give him a lethal concussion if she caught him. The upside was that if you were going to be trapped in a building with a killer, an armory was a pretty good place to do it. He loaded a pair of pistols and put them on his belt, though neither of them would do him much good. The sound of a tortured woman screaming from the roof told him that he didn't have much time. Sucks to be you, G. I. Jane, but better you than me, he thought with a dry smirk. His eyes flitted to another shelf, labeled "Fragmentation Grenades" in one of the dry fonts Arsenal favored. Those made shrapnel, right? If he could lob one at her and get her to propel the pieces into his body... His thought was interrupted by the girl herself, whose voice was suddenly echoing through one of the near floors and crackling through his radio. "Help!" From the way she was crying, you'd think she was a human teenage girl being chased at night by a flying man with a machete. "It's Deathwish, he's at the old mill armory and he's killing all of the-" She finished her false alarm by giving a fake scream, as if suddenly killed in the middle of sending a warning. The radio went silent. And then crackled to life again as soldiers attempted to verify what was going on, panic sounding in their voices. For the first time in a couple of years, Deathwish felt a little of that panic. She... she just... did she...? Vondra already didn't trust him. Which wouldn't matter, but the guy had his sparking weakness. Even if he tried setting the matter straight with his own radio, there'd be an array of trucks here in minutes, blaring their sirens across the city. Sirens blaring... This needed to end, and fast. Fear driving his motions, Deathwish took a belt of grenades and soared through the whole in the ceiling, rising to Impact's level and positioning himself across the room from her. She eyed him with a cocky grin, still shaking radio fragments from her hand. Slowly but purposefully, she floated across the room towards him. Deathwish eyed her not with his contempt and lust from before, but with steadily kindling rage. "Lady," he complained grimly, "You're trouble." He yanked the pin of a grenade behind his back, and with a tight smile, tossed it casually across the room to the still-grinning girl. It bounced and rolled across the floor, stopping just by her foot. She took a step back, looking at the small green capsule in momentary befuddlement. With not a moment's delay Deathwish accelerated into her, just as the deafening burst of the grenade shook through the armory.

I... I... not me! I dictate my posts to my sister! Honest! Aww. Thanks. And same to you. Impact's not only exceptionally powerful but wily as well, and written beautifully in every post. This is definitely one of the most fascinating duels of the game. (And one of the only one-on-one duels, as well.)

You hear about people secretly being Brandon Sanderson... but you never imagine it could be someone you know. PSA time: 1 in 4 Americans may actually be Brandon Sanderson in disguise (1 in 3 if you live in Utah). Don't let the Bandersnatch catch you unawares. Create passwords for identifying any of your loved ones in a suspicious situation, resisting the urge to use phrases from Cosmere books. Be sure to create passwords that would be impossible even for a genius level author to guess. Next, perform regular drills with your family and friends on how to react if a Sanderson is spotted in your area. It's safest to remain indoors in such an event, avoiding bookstores at all costs until the author has passed the area. 8 out of 10 victims of Sanderson replacement were fans attending a signing--don't become a statistic! When indoors during a Sanderson alert, resist the urge to read his novels. Reputable sources indicate that Brandon Sanderson is capable of manifesting as an astral projection from any of his written works, including blog posts, articles, and the Alcatraz books. If he appears in your home, do not ask him questions. Questions such as "What are you doing in my house" or "How did you get in here" will prompt him to respond with his infamous RAFO, sealing your fate in an instant. In 9 out of 10 cases Sanderson begins his replacements by RAFOing the victim. Again, don't become a statistic! Remember with the rhyme "Questions abandon to avoid being Brandon!" If you suspect a friend or family member of being Brandon Sanderson or spot the man in your area, contact 17th Shard authorities immediately. Do not attempt to engage Sanderson yourself. This is not a man--this is a demigod who has reached the perfect physical, cognitive, and spiritual ideal of humanity. 10 out of 10 Sanderson-mortal encounters end with the mortal's defeat. By reading this, you have successfully raised your chances of getting through a Sanderson encounter unscathed. Join the legions of Sharders aware of the Sanderson menace, and educate your friends and family of the threat he poses to you and society at large!

I had a list of books, but I wasn't compelled to read any book on the list except the Bible. If I hated a book, I didn't have to read it. My mother followed the principle that there were too many valuable books in the world to read in one lifetime, so I shouldn't be wasting time on anything that I had to force myself to read. And I adore her for that ideology. Giving me a vast treasure trove of good books and telling me to have at it at will was the best thing she could have done for me. I read and I read and I read, devouring book after book after book just for the fun of it. I read every book in the house and returned from the library each week with armloads I could barely carry. The point is, the environment I was taught in made reading not a chore that I had to accomplish every day, but an essential part of who I am. In short: my mom's homeschooling curriculum is for sale on Amazon. Go buy it.

When you think this is a great idea.

* shrugs * I am Groot.

Really? I'm a big Stevenson fan. I read Jekyll and Hyde in a day. ...but then, I was reading under a very loose homeschool schedule, which basically pointed me towards good works of literature and let me devour them at my own pace. And while I was encouraged to talk about my favorites, I never had to answer questions. So our respective experiences aren't really comparable.

I am Groot.

It is a crime that TwiLyghtSansSparkles doesn't have more upvotes than me. A veritable travesty. Just sayin'.

Or as I like to call it, "In Which a Bunch of Obsessed Nerds Can't Tear Their Eyes Away From a Single Progress Bar." (I'm one of those nerds. ) In other news... at Quiver's suggestion I'm finally giving the sequel to the hated Equestria Girls, "Rainbow Rocks," a fair trial. ...Am I the only one who can envision this song as Calamity goading Epics to destroy Oregon in their fights with one another? Or have I reached a level of obsessiveness so that there's genuinely not a single song that I will not link to the RP?

I attribute this development to TwiLyght, who personally encouraged Brandon Sanderson with Fluttershy memes on a topic Peter Ahlstrom was weighing in on. I can't see Funtimes wearing anything else.

Wanna bet that this would become a popular post in two days?

So Funtimes, Edgerunner, and co. will always be swaddled in at least half a dozen layers of clothing... but our chances of seeing Lightwards in the shower are alarming high. ... I'm not sure how I feel about this.

Having never seen a single episode of this show, not even knowing whether it was a cartoon or an anime before looking it up... I forgot about nude!Nighthound. I guess my mind blocked it out.

No, we're not declaring Saccharine the Tallest of Portland. Anything which could cause Deathwish's nudity should be strictly prohibited. GM, back me on this.

Would the friction do much? His flight essentially amounts to telekinetic control of his own body. With the amount of freedom he has in flight and acceleration it seems like he could just power through the friction. (I'm no physicist, though. )

It's amazing Deathwish has survived as long as he has. (Though I can't quite figure out how Edgerunner would go about hurting him, considering his PI.) I don't have any plans for Glamour, but we'll see what happens.

Definitely one of my favorite comedic tropes. In other news, What Happened in The Dalles post 269 is up. "In Which Backtrack Provides the Set-Up for an Oregon Cover of 'Under the Sea,' and Deathwish Shows a Casual Disregard for Both Women and Property Damage."

Whether it was something he'd said or not, MV seemed to recover herself. She brushed away her tears and smiled hesitantly. At least she's happy, Backtrack thought with some satisfaction. "You're uh... really not much of an Epic sometimes you know?" she said with a small laugh. "You know that we're Epics right?" Oh, of course. She's happy because my patheticness is hilarious. Even so, he couldn't help but smile as she patted his shoulder and beamed up at him. ""So don't you worry, I'll protect you from all the mean ones." "Thanks," he said, starting to walk again. "And... you're right. I'm not really much of an Epic. All I can really do is... well, you know." Walking along the dimly lit street, an idea suddenly occurred to him. He opened up the past, searching across millions of years for just the right scene. It didn't take him long to find it. Hundreds of millions of years ago, back when most of Oregon was covered in a vast ocean. When the land was barren and the seas swam with all kinds of weird fishies. His confidence coming back to him, he took MV by the hand and Showed her what he saw. To their eyes a whole new scene glistened to life, interposed smoothly with the street they walked on. Their eyes still saw the dimly lit, ruined street... but like a ghost around it was the ancient sea. They seemed to walk along the ocean floor, feet sinking through spectral sand as the dappled sunlight danced around them. Every now and then a weird armored fish would plow through the water, and flat-bodied crab-things stirred up the sand as they filtered through it. "Other Epics can punch things," Backtrack said softly. "And most of them don't have to be scared of anything. But I'm the only one who can see things like this." He paused to think for a moment as some sort of enormous sea scorpion flew over their heads and rushed along the currents. "Actually, Lightwards could probably resurrect a bunch of these fish if he wanted. And an illusionist could probably make it look like you're in the ocean. It's still pretty cool though, right?" The winds were loud and sharp as high as they were. Deathwish half expected his words to fall on literally deaf ears. But somewhat disappointingly, the chick with the flying skirt started shouting over the air currents. Disappointing because women were way more enjoyable when they didn't talk much. "I'm sure you're authorized to do use lethal force!" the girl shouted. ""Though why you'd need authorization or justification is beyond me. I gave up needing to justify things the day I took the name Impact, the day I got my abilities..." Deathwish only half-listened, instead flipping himself upside down to stare at her legs some more. That turned out to be a mistake, as she pulled from behind her what looked like a squirming grey ball and threw it at him. What the...? He started to fly away but the fuzzball glided upwards and latched onto his pants leg, revealing itself to be a raving mutated squirrel with gnashing teeth. Deathwish kicked at it, but the motion only opened the cuff of his pants. The squirrel ran up his leg, biting and clawing all the way. His skin was ripped open and sutured shut again over and over all up his leg, the squirrel not slowed in the slightest by the redirected bites undoubtedly opening over its body. Deathwish contorted and twisted in the air, trying the shake the scampering beast loose. He was still doing his aerial dance when he noticed Impact hurtling towards him. Oh, storm this. Without warning he bolted at top speed, not into open air but into one of The Dalles' taller buildings, an armory if he remembered correctly. He crashed straight through a skylight on the roof, his skin cut a hundred times over by the broken glass, and dropped downwards on a straight path that smashed him through all five floors on the way down. By the time he hit the bottom he was a broken, twisted pile of projecting bones, with an almost comical spray of blood emitting from his distorted knee. His body slowly pulled itself together, though as a self-inflicted wound there was nothing to redirect the wounds too. On the bright side, the squirrel was similarly annihilated by the impact, and he was able to pull its remains easily from a now-prominent hole in his jeans. Slowly he rose to his feet at the bottom of the chill dark building, leaning against one of Arsenal's stored tanks as he planned his next move. There were plenty of guns on the upper floors--maybe he could arm himself with something useful up there before getting out of here. The last thing he needed was to try facing this chick in confined quarters. His eyes flickered upwards through the straight line of holes he'd left in the building's floors. Through the shattered skylight at the top of the building, a girl's shape stopped in an ominous hover. Oh, sparks.

"We could spend the resources we use feeding civilians to increase our defensive infrastructure." "But isn't the defensive infrastructure in existence solely to defend the civilians...?" "Why do you hate efficiency, commander?"

"Useless little creatures draining our valuable resources. Not to mention how many sanitation regulations it violates to have one in a clinic. Vondra will hear about this." --From What Happened in The Dalles, page 15.

Awesome. And if MV keeps throwing rabid animals at Deathwish, we might be able to recreate Twi's rabid weasel scenario. I hope no one objects to Backtrack doing something vaguely romantic in the next scene.