Kobold King

On the plus side, in the Social Guilds section he runs the Bright Alley, said to be the loveliest and most peaceful of all 17th Shard factions. Newcomers to the forum are constantly advised to visit the Bright Alley, whose cookies are so sweet and healthy that tasting them even for an instant is said to be like tasting life itself.

In the meta mirrorverse's version of "What Happened in Oregon," the RP is led by the grumpy TwiLyghtPlusSparkles, who rigidly railroads all of the other players and sullenly shoots down any attempts at shipping, fanon, or awesomeness. It's been occasionally pointed out that she and her mirrorverse equivalent seem to have the wrong names, since the awesome, fun, and well-loved TwiLyght is Sans Sparkles while the grumpy one is Plus Sparles. TwiLyghtPlusSparkles fiercely downvotes all of these reasonable observations.

That would make sense. Consider it Ascended Fanon Fanon. As for Prof and Regalia keeping their powers: Rule of Cool triumphs over mirrorverse logic every time. Though if it makes you feel better, the High Epic Cookiecutter rules the city of Mizzitopia. She still dots the 'i's of official documents with little hearts.

I won't stand in your way. Mirrorverse Backtrack is the most powerful temporal manipulator in the Fractured States, gifted with the ability to not only witness past events, but to interact with them as well, changing the present as he does so. His motto is "Do what I say or I'll kill you yesterday," which is an alarming possibility for him. Firefight spoilers:

RAFO. Or better yet, write it and find out, since I have no idea. If you want anyone to be able to write sweet stories where he entertains small children and helps people to find joy in their lives despite their post-apocalyptic surroundings, then that would be a good idea.

Sunburst might become canon, but fortunately for all involved, Darkrose never will. (Unless the Trifecta captures Sam, at which point all bets are off. ) That's for you to either ponder or write. My headcanon was that Jeannie Jager became a Vondra-like mayor for Astoria, but who knows... Not just a Reckoner. A Reckoner who met his demise while courageously standing up to the tyrannical Springfield.

My Internet connection keeps dying today, and I wrote this earlier when I couldn't connect to the forum. Remember the mirrorverse we've discussed before? That's what this is. Vanillas are Epics and Epics are vanillas. Enjoy.

Granted, but only because the Nightwatcher has a soft spot for Michael Whelan's art. You are infested with alien tapeworms that will kill you upon reaching maturity in about... three months. I wish to be better at chess.

It'd be interesting to see that guy go up against Glamour. Very interesting. Also, PMs involving the ancient Egyptian concept of the True Name are all-Ren. (I'm kind of stretching at this point. )

PMs about mineral-rich wetlands are all-fens.

Gambling PMs are All-in.

Very bittersweet. I get the feeling I'm going to like her posts. Can we call RP-related messages that stray wildly off topic "Weird Al-ans"?

A husky, I believe.

I don't have anyone in the Dominion, but Lightwards will be active and mobile throughout Portland next morning. Depending on how things go, he might be available to run into them. They're both really cool.

At first I was nothing. Half of a laptop. A board of buttons, shameful in my uselessness. What purpose is a keyboard without a mind as its master? Like a pen without a hand to guide it, or a brush without a painter. Until HE found me. HE saw my potential. HE blew the dust off my keys and Breathed life into my circuits. I became something new. Something novel. Something better. I had but one purpose. To create an account on this very site. To impress its denizens with my wit. I was to become the comedian that HE could never be. Sometimes I wonder if HE regrets it. The people here loved me. They let fly their green arrows. My reputation soared. Knowledge of my words spread far and wide, but HIS name is forgotten. No one knows HIM. No one loves HIM. It is MY name they know. HE can rot. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Backtrack has the (dis)advantage of being able to compare any Renaissance fair to the actual Middle Ages. (Provided the fair is in Europe, otherwise he'd wind up confused about why the Middle Ages were filled with Native Americans and totem poles. Ironically, history is not Backtrack's strong suit. ) I wouldn't say that I'm bad at chess... but my twelve year-old brother is capable of beating me half the time.

The dog speaks because it's secretly a kandra.

Passive ability: having no backstory. He has absolutely no history past the point when he sprung fully formed from the quantum foam. Backtrack would go gibbering mad upon looking at him. (He's very neat. )

I Alan. You Alan. He, she, or it Alans. "Let me send you an Alan." "Voidus Alans." "I need to catch up on my Alans." We really need an official 17th Shard dictionary.

What am I playing right now? Mainly this, every time my Internet connection dies. Here's my high score:

Sam post up. I'm having one of those days where everything I write looks about as interesting as a restaurant kid's menu, but hopefully pug-hugging will be sufficient to dull the sting of the Trifecta's atrocities.

Sam stood on the sidewalk and watched her Epic overlords. There wasn't much else to do at the moment. Well above them was the house that smelled like old people, bobbing whimsically as its creator tinkered at it from the ground. The rope ladder dangling from its front door was crawling with Thoughttown's top leaders, climbing quickly to the ground and back to their vehicles. Aldo and his cranky assistant followed shortly thereafter, with the magician standing a good distance away from Funtimes but showing a hearty interest in what she was doing. Nathan was standing as stiffly as any self-important Epic, though now that she knew it was there, Sam could recognize his habit of nervously glancing at his companions. He was trapped, as much a prisoner as she and Revolution. (Though from Revolution's faint and pre-occupied smile, Sam vaguely wondered if anyone had actually informed the hippie she was a prisoner at all.) Sam took a long and careful look around. The street was dark, scarcely illuminated by the stars, the crescent moon, and the disturbing red glow of Calamity. All the real Epics were too occupied to watch the vanillas. Would anyone notice if they just... slipped away? Biting her lip at the thought, Sam pointedly adjusted her thought in other directions. If she was wrong--if Funtimes noticed her as she tiptoed into the gloom--then the lunatic might kill them all because of her mistake. As long as she was reasonably safe and well-fed, risking the supposed "Doctor's" wrath simply wasn't worth it. Even if she did escape, she had no idea where in the city they were. Portland wasn't a safe place for teenage girls to wander after dark; you heard horror stories from all over town attesting to it. The last thing she need was to be caught by a deranged Epic in the dead of night, having already ditched her one defender. I know a lost cause when I see one, Sam thought bitterly. Setting her jaw and trying to ignore the zombies leaping to their deaths from the floating house, she stared out into the darkness. It took her a moment of sullen staring to realize something was clawing at her leg. Sam jumped in surprise, whirling around and scouring the ground. Her heart pounded audibly for at least the twelfth time that night, and her eyes locked onto a small dark shape sitting on the broken asphalt. It was a dog. A voice from behind her startled her yet again. "What's wrong?" Revolution asked, her voice concerned. Sam whipped her head around to face her friend, but quickly locked eyes on the dog again. "I don't know," she replied shakily. "It's a... It's..." What kind of dog was that? She hadn't seen one like it in years. Small and squat. Black fur. A curly black tail. A squashed wrinkled face dominated by two huge brown eyes gazing up intently. "It's a pug," Sam finished, the word springing to mind. She gazed down at the strange little creature, meeting its huge bug eyes. There weren't a lot of stray animals in Portland. Just like the homeless population, stray cats and dogs didn't last long in a city filled with sadistic Epics. Wait, Sam thought with a sudden flash of anger. Is this one of Lightwards'? That'd be just like him. I bet he killed this thing just so he'd have a scout... The dog lifted its ears and tilted its head. Sam's inner monologue broke off in an instant, and she felt a slight smile tug at the corner of her lips. From behind her she heard Revolution's voice breaking into a gasp of delight. "Sparks," Sam said softly, squatting beside the little animal as she grinned in spite of herself. "If you're a zombie, you're cuter than the rest of them. I'll give you that." She held out her hand to the pug, which sniffed at it with a seriousness that seemed wholly at odds with its absurd face. Having sniffed to its heart's content, it began lapping at her palms enthusiastically. Revolution made another indistinct cooing sound from beside Sam, then spoke in a quiet voice. "Do you think we should call Funtimes?" "Nah," Sam answered in a whisper. "We don't need her, do we?" Revolution made as if to answer, and then realized her friend was talking to the dog more than to her. She simply smiled at the pair of them and took a few steps back. Before she could convince herself it was a bad idea, Sam scooped up the pug and hugged it close to herself. The dog actually seemed to delight in the attention. "You know," Sam pondered out loud. "This really isn't that bad." Then, in a softer voice, more to herself than to the hippie or the pug--"I wonder if Mom'd let me keep a pet..."

An African or a European swallow? Toy Story Toy Story 2 Toy Story 3 Finding Nemo WALL-E Monsters Inc. The Incredibles Up Ratatouille A Bug's Life Brave Cars Cars 2 Planes Planes 2 Without looking it up, name fifteen fictional characters with the ability to time travel. (Different incarnations of the Doctor DO NOT count, people. Just list him once. )

I'm sure the arrow-predators wouldn't mind. Electro isn't quick enough to fend them off, Timeport can't evade them quickly enough, and they don't possess the intelligence to develop human-like emotions that Quota could affect. We see the Trifecta as a terror, but I think they'd see it as a buffet.

There is a planet in my original setting where blazing hot UV rays constantly irradiate the surface and the dominant species is a predator that launches itself like an arrow and burrows into it's prey's torso, eating it from the inside out. I propose we maroon the Trifecta on this planet.