Kobold King

Looks good to me. I'll try to post for Arsenal tonight.

I wonder if female Inquisitors ever decorate their spikes and call it nail art.

I could have Deathwish swoop in and tell them to surrender if you like.

A recent WoB indicates it's perfectly feasible for us to use the character Obliteration in our Oregon RP elsewhere on the site. This is pretty much how we feel about it.

What should our policy on Obliteration-alliances be? We know from the fact that he was working with Regalia that at times he is willing to work with others, and since there are actually quite a few Epics in Oregon who could kill him during his cooldown period he might have a hard time surviving without some degree of strategy.

Um, I don't remember. Anything. Hold on, let me go reread our Alan thread...

And it's great. Oregon Fact 340: Kobold King is bored and unfunny.

Um... uh... well, you see... it's probably... uh... (I'm open to suggestions on that front. I'm embarrassed to say I haven't put much thought into that detail. )

She actually gets the opportunity to cuddle those doggies whenever she wants. She can't judge me for d'awwing over their pictures.

I trust you didn't answer with anything about Derpy Hooves... right?

Ah well. More Obliteration for the rest of us.

Well in that case...

Would it be impolite to interrupt with the version of "Nightmare Night" I wrote about Obliteration's introduction to the RP?

Sounds good to me. Apparently. (And why is it that captioned pictures of celebrities always seem to get more upvotes than RP posts? )

Hmm, didn't think of that.

Lightwards and Backtrack posts up. Not my finest work, but they're hopefully better than nothing.

“You, Backtrack, are going to be my personal hero.” "Whoah whoah whoah," Backtrack started hastily as the doctor took hold of his hand. "Wait, I don't think--" Buuuut he was already being dragged down the hallway. Sparks. And then there was screaming from the other room. Rather than walking away from the source of the screams like any sensible vanilla would do in this day and age, the doctor halted in his determined march and started walking towards it. Backtrack considered jerking away from the man, but it felt like his arm would snap off if he tried. So he contented himself to whine a quiet and wordless complaint as he was pulled towards the waiting room packed with people. His jaw dropped but the whine continued when he saw the people gathered in the room. The room was packed with Epics. That was all they could be. On one end of the room was Autumn, still being uncomfortably caressed by the woman who'd stolen his glasses. MV was back again, though without her sister and looking upset about something. He'd never seen the rest of the Epics. A few men, one of them in shorts and flip-flops. A cute chick with curly hair, a dark hoodie, and knives that made her a definite no-flirting zone. A blonde woman in a majestic shimmering blue dress, looking for all the world like the Elsa cosplayers he could remember from before Calamity. A very young teen girl covered head to toe in tattooed words and phrases, like she'd somehow absorbed Tumblr into her skin by mistake. And, in the center of the room, shouting at the top of his surprisingly shrill voice, was Reader with his pants around his ankles. Backtrack felt a peculiar moment of supreme clarity. All his life, all his experiences, all the fears he'd ever known, all merging into a single, dire thought. That thought was Nope. I do not want to know what's happening in here. I should turn and walk away and forget everything I've seen in this town. In fact, I should forget I'm an Epic. Vanillas don't have to worry about this sort of thing... He was still trying to weasel his way out of the doctor's grip, planning how he'd run away start his new life as a dishwasher in Newcago, when he somehow heard MV's voice saying his name through the commotion. "...I need to find him, so that he can um... help me," she was explaining to the doctor, her cheeks a surprising but quite nice shade of red. "Right here," Backtrack said in a shaky voice, managing to twist himself back to the doctor's front and into the blonde girl's view. And into everyone else's view, he thought with a gulp, trying hard not to notice the guy who was leaving smoldering footprints in the floor as he stormed out of the clinic. "I'm kind of, uh, busy," he managed to squeak, eyeing the furiously embarrassed Reader nervously. "But I might be able to make time for you. If the doctor here doesn't mind," he finished with a plead in his voice.

The night was chill, the air as crisp as it was still. There was little to hear but the diamond queen's strident voice and little to feel but the green diamond squeezing out life. Not for the first time, Lightwards wished he could vaporize cities or shatter asphalt with his fists. Or, at the very least, that he hadn't been so quick to send away his allosaur. To merely grit his teeth and remain silent through Lucentia's insults took all the willpower he could muster. "...Before you whine about what I have gained," Lucentia droned on, her voice cold and unpleasant, "you might want to get it into your head that some are simply better than others. We can at least agree that you have risen above Vanillas yourself, can’t we?” Diamond spikes raised and prevented Aldo and Cricket from interfering--not that either of them showed any signs of stepping into the middle of the confrontation. Doing his best to stifle the worst of his rage, Lightwards smiled a tight, mirthless smile. "Of course," he hissed softly. "That, at least, would be ludicrous to debate." He shifted as much as he could within his crystal confines--though there wasn't much room to get comfortable. Lucentia was still staring sternly at him, and he forced himself to maintain eye contact. For a split moment, her face was that of Möbius, and then Funtimes. The moment passed, and her own pompously homely face was soon filling his frame of view once again. Slightly shaking his head, he continued. "Perhaps I let my anger get the better of me--I think we can both agree that we have better things to do than brawl in the middle of the street. So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd dismiss these senseless binds and allow us to return to our business at hand."

Finally we're asking the important questions.

There is no more honorable badge for a good book than a worn cover and creased pages.

I wonder if he's ever been offered a "Harbinger of the Apocalypse" discount.

Am I the only one who wonders if Obliteration would draw a connection between Bloody Mary tagging people and the Mark of the Beast?

Monsieur Monkey Business.

I have a worse one. Danny Cuddlemuffin.

Thoughttown's been using them, but most of the other areas of Portland don't have the resources to acquire them. The Dalles uses radios created by Arsenal.