Kobold King

Can't cute. Mental image too think.

A woman screamed. A couple of shots were fired, but they were paltry next to the dozen crossbow bolts that launched through the street. A guardsmen was shot through the chest, falling to the ground with blood in his mouth. The other ducked behind the building with a curse, forced to fall back. The pandas advanced, their shapes quickly filling the narrow street. They pushed their dead against the building walls, clearing their way to the toppled car that the panicked young woman was hiding behind. A pair of pandas approached from either flank, swords and crossbows in hand. The sun set behind them, illuminating their horrid yet inexplicably endearing forms in the shade of blood. The woman closed her eyes tightly against this last sight of her life. A crossbow bolt let fly, whizzing through the air at the human heart--but the cry of pain that it drew forth was not human. Standing solidly between the pandas and the woman was a tall man, standing in a black leather jacket only slightly marred by the crossbow bolt jutting from his chest. His face was sharp, with a large nose, wide eyes, and a smirk that was entirely the opposite of what you'd expect from a man who'd just been fatally impaled. With a casual motion he yanked the bolt from his chest cavity and tossed it to the ground. The panda that had fired the would-have-been killing shot let out a scream of pain and shock, its already-huge eyes bulging from its face as a wound tore itself into its torso. It fell to the ground with a clatter of wood on asphalt, a gaping hole in its chest and blood gurgling out from its snout. Still grinning at the action, the man in the leather jacket pulled two pistols from his side, blasting rounds into the startled pandas. Hairy heads exploded to the sounds of gunshots, and more pandas fell with wounds in their chests from the bolts that they fired. Deathwish stepped over the bodies of each one, finally looming over a trembling panda with a sword clutched in its paws. Still smiling, he seized the shaking humanoid's arms and guided its blade to his own heart. The panda squealed in protest as it was forced to stab the Epic. It groaned as its own heart was rent by the sword that was piercing Deathwish's chest. It slid to the hard stone of the street, blood bubbling from its lips. Standing triumphantly over the pile of panda corpses, the Epic pulled a radio from his belt. "This is Deathwish to Arsenal," he said through it, "I cleaned up the mess by the river. The ones that haven't withdrawn already are dead." "Good work," the voice rasped over the line. "Stand by for further orders." Deathwish nodded curtly, attaching the radio back to his belt. He smiled upon seeing the woman climbing out form behind the toppled car. "You OK, babe?" he asked, slicking his hair back and stepping towards her. "Y-yeah," the woman stammered. She was shaking worse than the last bear had been, eyes glued to the piles of carnage around her. "They were... they were everywhere..." Deathwish shushed her with a finger on her lips. "It's over now, miss. They're gone." The woman--or girl, she couldn't be more than nineteen--nodded, still obviously in shock. Deathwish grinned, snaking his hand downwards to give her hip a tight squeeze. "I'm a busy man, babe," he whispered in her ear. "But if you wanted to repay me, well, you can show up at my quarters later tonight. I'm sure we could work something out..." Slap. The shock on the girl's face quickly gave way to anger and a fair bit of disgust. She slapped him hard in the face and shoved away from him, hurriedly stalking away down the street. "Fine, be that way!" Deathwish shouted after her. "You ungrateful wh--" "Arsenal to Deathwish," the raspy voice interrupted over the radio. His voice was barely able to modulate over steady static. "I'm getting reports of unknown Epics across the city. We need to regroup our assets; head to the city limits and relocate the Florist to the command center." "The Florist?" Deathwish snapped incredulously, still rubbing his cheek from his slap. "That creep? What's he gonna do, pollinate them to death?" "You've received your orders. Go!" Grumbling under his breath about Dewhickey and the towns where no girl would dare say no to him, Deathwish took off again and headed for the city limits. “Work, huh? Sounds important, do you get around a lot? Oh, and could you make your shoulder free?” Backtrack did what the doctor said while pondering a response. "Uh..." he said finally. "I guess you could say that. I moved out of San Fran after what happened in San Diego, and I've kind of been travelling around California since then. And here, recently, after an... Epic took over, I had to move up here. North California Epics are the worst." He paused for a moment, staring out the window at the setting sun. "After that I started working in Portland. And speaking of that, I'll probably have to get back there tonight. I'm working for an Epic there, and he... well, he made it clear that I'm on a curfew as long as I'm working for him. He's expecting me back soon." Deathwish flew over the line of fused-together trees, alighting on a patch of flowers in the serene, peaceful garden. No sooner than he landed, the Florist turned to face him, with that quizzical look of his. Storming life-sense of his. What a creep. Deathwish looked him in the eye sternly. "You're just gonna sit here watering your petunias while the rest of us are fighting for our lives out there? What kind of Epic are you?" He idly picked a rose from the garden and began peeling the petals off in his hands. "I'm here to take you to the command center. We need all the Epics we can get to fight off the attack, and I guess that includes creepy hippies like you."

I remember staring at the rep board, my wildest dream consisting of someday standing side by side with Swimmingly as the highest-ranking non-Team Sanderson members on the forum. I'm still not entirely sure what happened.

Sorry about leaving this untended, guys. I'll make an effort to get the next update posted ASAP.

It must suck to be an Ice Inquisitor in tropical biomes.

That is true. (I still think it'll be a waste if we don't have at least one aerial battle involving the MoNA at some point. )

I wasn't there for that one. Though whenever I hear about it I wish I'd signed up sooner.

3. Until Reader entered the office. 4. Everyone begins scheming in the far corner, hatching a plan to drive Reader from the room. 5. The plot thickens.

Otherwise I was thinking of giving it to Backtrack. He may not deserve it as much as Reader, but we'd all love to see it nonetheless. Don't try to deny it.

I'll bear that in mind if I do a "What My Cutie Mark is Telling Me" cover for The Dalles.

That she is. On a scale of 1-10, how badly do you want to punch Reader in the jaw?

Now all we need there is a disco ball, bright flashing lights, and loud, raucous music, with perhaps a celebrity appearance to liven things up. By which I mean, Shiny Sparkle needs to start using her powers, Glamour needs to make his way to the clinic, and we need Taylor Swift in town ASAP.

Could she have been in the American Southwest long enough to have dated a distinguished Epic gentlemen who wears a monocle, drinks poisoned tea, and rules a town with an iron fist and smashing style?

I thought I would have to post on the "Having a Bad Day" thread--today our littlest kitten, Bliss by name, went missing for an hour. She's always scampering directly underfoot, so having her disappear for so long was alarming and troubling for us all. Fortunately, she merely got herself stuck behind a piece of furniture in a corner of the cabin. She's safe and sound, if a little hungry. She's currently scampering around the house like usual, purring uproariously if you touch her or look at her for too long.

He is now infringing on Earl Greyback's copyright. War between Newcago and Arizona has been declared.

Aaaaand Steelheart's David Tennant now. I hope you're happy.

I still think we should WHOOC a few scenes where Steelheart meets every character in Oregon some day.

I have nothing to add except how amused and mildly disturbed I am that we're having this conversation.

You're more than welcome to them. They were created for your usage. I'd best fetch my headset and start listening, then.

What if he met Sam and made a manifestation of snarkiness?

Also a completely theoretical question: what Taylor Swift song would be best suited for playing in the midst of a panda invasion?

May I ask who will be meeting these cannon fodders, or is that classified?