Kobold King

The Epics are the ones fighting, but as usual it's the vanillas who suffer the most. I like the Funtimes post--even if the good Doctor is a tad scarier than usual. Do you have a rough idea how high the house is raising?

Maybe I'm getting the wrong impression, but Flashpoint seems like the slightly dim-witted but well-intentioned henchman to Altermind's supervillainy. Also, using telekinesis to send alarming messages with a pen is creepy, awesome, and fits AM perfectly. EDIT: I know this is a typo, but Calamity this made me laugh.

I assume they're forced to flee the building shortly thereafter, a necromancer hot on their tails while they sing "The Night Lightwards Went Crazy"?

"Quote Braveheart."

Lightwards would quietly stew for the rest of the meeting, pitying himself for the terrible things he has to deal with in his line of work.

That would be very like her. I think she'd have to turn. I left it ambiguous enough for you to write it however you want, though.

I wondered if anyone would notice that. Probably behind and to the side. I purposely didn't mention where Funtimes was seated, for fear that she'd conjure up a beanbag chair for herself and throw off whatever I wrote.

That's sort of the point. Lightwards infuriating Funtimes (and vice versa) is one of the funnest parts of the game. Sorry for taking so long with the post. And sorry for the lower post quality than usual--I am, through no fault but my own, out of practice.

Epics. They were easy enough to understand. All their lives and all their energies centered around a single cause--that of domination. Their every act was meant to beat down those around them. Meant to bow their heads. To push their faces into the dirt and demand fealty. That morning, Sam would have sworn on her understanding of the matter. Now, though... Well, her philosophy had thus far failed to explain the word "beardapalooza," much less the Epic who came up with it. At this point, all she really knew that it'd been a long day and that she was too tired to think about philosophies. And so the evening found Samantha Trattner lightly dozing in an ornamental lawnchair. She blinked wearily as the sun set low enough to shine directly in her face, finally shaking herself awake as Funtimes shouted out to the bearded crowd. "Thank you all for coming," she was proclaiming, folding a piece of paper until it was almost comically small. "The shinies are free. Take—take everything you want. Bye-bye!" Bearded men began filtering away from the tailor's shop, whispering cautiously to each other as they went. Sam recognized a few of them, and she was pretty sure most of the local residents recognized her back. She gave a languid wave to some of them passed, idly wondering how they'd explain their day's activities to their wives and families back home. Probably "Look at the nice jewelry, honey! Don't ask questions you wouldn't believe the answers to." Nathan was up by the Doctor herself, occasionally talking to her in a low voice Sam couldn't quite hear. For her part, Funtimes was uncharacteristically somber, taking nervous glances at her radio every thirty seconds like she expected it to sprout wings and hover away. While such a thing was undoubtedly possible with her around, the device did nothing more interesting than flashing a yellow light around seven o'clock. A frowning Funtimes paced back and forth down the sidewalk, coming within Sam and Revolution's earshot. "He's not coming," she said, pouting. "We should get ready." Sam rose from her chair in response, stretching wearily and taking a peak at the sky. It was already late enough for the sun to have set, and a cool breeze made her wish she'd been kidnapped while wearing a jacket. Revolution was already smiling on her feet, seeming oblivious to the day's tiring activities. The woman practically made her own energy. Nathan trailed behind his girlfriend, brow furrowed in thought. His hand periodically drifted to his chest where he'd been punched earlier, and he seemed concerned about something. His eyes kept drifting towards Sam and Revolution. "Doctor," the man said suddenly, "could I get a clipboard, a pen, and some paper?" The Doctor's face melted into a grin, and she swiftly conjured up the requested items. All were bright pink, but Nathan took them nonetheless. He walked over to Sam, leaning in close and depositing the garish travesties in her hands. "If anyone asks, you're my secretary," he whispered kindly. "Whenever you think of a joke about Lightwards' hat or something, just write it down there. Okay?" Sam blinked in surprise, but smiled quickly. "Thanks," she whispered back. She meant it. Earlier that day she'd have counted herself lucky if the man hadn't tortured and killed her--now he was going out of his way to be kind to her. A minute more, and she was standing in a ring, clasping hands with Funtimes and Revolution. A second after that, and her surroundings disappeared. She didn't immediately recognize the part of town they ended up in. They were still in Portland, but the buildings were unfamiliar to her. She had a vague idea that they were somewhere west of the river, in one of the city districts unclaimed by any Epic in particular. The street was littered with blackened woodchips, and several nearby houses seemed utterly demolished. Only one house stood relatively unscathed--apart from a broken window, it seemed positively pristine. It also appeared to be where the Empire had chosen to convene for the night. Sports cars, motorcycles, and convoys surrounded the residence, intermingled with a few raptors glaring at the Funtimes crew with unsuppressed malevolence. Funtimes took one look at the building and set towards it at a full skip, happily chanting as she went. Nathan clearly didn't display her level of enthusiasm; he periodically rubbed at his chest, though Sam couldn't tell whether he did it out of pain or nervous apprehension. Sam took a deep breath, and followed her party into the building. Her first impression was that of a warm, cozy dwelling that smelled faintly of old people. That impression swiftly gave way to one of waltzing into a wolf's den. There were bloodstains on the carpet. There were shards of broken glass littering the floor, in stark contrast to the immaculately cleaned counters and tables. And then there were the Epics. She'd seldom seen this many packed in one place. And she didn't think she'd ever seen so many sitting together without trying to murder one another. Each and every person at the table had a certain tenseness to their posture, though affecting a relaxed and casual manner. Lightwards was sitting calmly at the head of the table, acknowledging Funtimes' entrance with a nod that somehow seemed to double as a threat. He was flanked by Aldo and the Diamond Queen, facing the large body of Epics representing Thoughttown. Sam didn't recognize many of the Thoughttown representatives. There was a greasy man with a thick goatee, sitting near to a thickly set Native American woman. There was Sightline the teleporter, staring at the group through his black blindfold. There was Flashpoint, said to be one of Thoughttown's chief lieutenants. Perhaps the only lieutenant, if the rumors about Scorch were true. And then there was Altermind himself. Sam had never seen him before--and given the reputation illusionists had made for themselves, she likely hadn't seen him now either. His body was ridiculously tan and well-proportioned, a chiseled and perfect face sitting upon his broad shoulders. Sam despised him. He sat straight in his seat, his face a mixture of caution and outright contempt. A pair of guards, likely vanilla, flanked his chair with military precision. Here was the man who had preserved the lives of thousands of Portlanders--and had somehow made an atrocity out of it nonetheless. Whatever else Sam learned about Epics, her view of Altermind would never change. This was a tyrant and a killer. He deserved nothing more than a knife in his back. “We’re here!" Funtimes cheered by way of greeting. "And we brought pudding! With jellybeans. Lots and lots of jellybeans.” Great. Jellybeans for the Epic equivalent of Mussolinni, Sam thought with an inward sigh. Justice dies not with a bang, but with Funtimes deciding it's boring. She thought about writing it down, but she didn't feel an urge to write any moral treatises at the moment. Lightwards greeted the group with a broad crocodile smile. "Welcome and good evening, Doctor," he said loudly. The insincerity was so thick you could cut it with a knife. "Please, do take yourselves some seats." A few of his toy soldiers stepped forward, laying out tall wooden chairs for the Doctor and her company. Sam flopped into a seat. She grumpily considered killing everyone in the room by propping her feet up on the table in front of Altermind, but thought better of it. "Altermind," Lightwards said with another smile. "I'd like to introduce you to Doctor Funtimes and her crew. Without her, my conquests thus far would have taken far longer." The necromancer looked utterly ridiculous, but somehow managed to appear entirely in his element. He held a cupcake in his hand and the unsightly bowler hat in his lap, glasses slightly lopsided on his face. Yet when he smiled, there was a sinister sincerity to the expression that boldly contradicted the hostile formalities he was going through. Lightwards was a happy Epic right now. And Epics, aside from glitter-haired freaks like Funtimes, were at their happiest when they were completely in control. The professor's eyes drifted over to Nathan, the corners of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. Sam's heart stopped for a moment, as she was sure Nathan's had done--Lightwards' lightly narrowed eyes told a clear fact. He definitely knew Traveler's secret. Miraculously, he looked away, smiling at Altermind once more. "The fellow to her left is Traveler, a teleporter of no small skill. He's a highly valuable asset to the Empire, and thus to our cause as a whole, I think you will find." Sam let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. That could have gone far worse. "In fact," Lightwards continued gleefully, "I'd wager he and Sightline could learn quite a few tricks from one another. Why don't the pair of you sit down and learn about each other?" Toy soldiers briskly pushed Nathan's chair into closer proximity to Sightline. You sparking sociopath, Sam fumed. Lightwards rambled on, seeming oblivious to Nathan's predicament. His eyes, however, showed continued delight in the false Epic's discomfort. "And of course, this is Funtimes' retinue. Samantha Trattner and Revolution Jones. Not Epics, but she defends them all the same." Lightwards snapped his fingers, triggering rapid footsteps from the kitchen. "So once again--welcome Doctor Funtimes, and welcome to her retinue. My Warrior here shall attend your every need this evening." Sam rolled her eyes in annoyance, glancing at the zombie stepping out of the kitchen. Her face immediately went pale. Pamela Tithers was standing with a tray of cupcakes in her hands, eyes staring vacantly ahead of her. Her face was devoid of expression. Her pace was devoid of her usually relaxed gait. She crossed the distance from the kitchen to the table, placing the cupcake pan in front of Funtimes. Lightwards' eyes were locked on Sam herself, glistening with the same delight at being in control from before. Sam didn't meet them. She was still staring at the old family friend, who was now on one knee in abject servitude. There was a faint burning sensation around her eyes. "Got her just today," the necromancer explained softly. "During a visit to a certain bakery downtown. Hopefully the baker does what she's told--I'd hate to have to collect the baker in her stead." His eyes flickered to Altermind, smiling broadly again. "I've made the final introductions," he proclaimed loudly. "Now... let us begin." Sam clutched her clipboard to her chest, breathing rapidly. Lightwards seemed entirely oblivious to her glares, which were becoming increasingly difficult through the water in her eyes. Revolution shot her a look brimming with concern, but Sam didn't respond. Eyes still locked on Lightwards and Altermind, she put a pen to the clipboard and began to scribble.

Typing it up now. I'll get it up in the next hour or so, provided I'm not stripped away from the computer for farmwork.

It's a long story--a long but fantastic story. To get to Newcago, he needed a man who knew its every street and alleyway. A man who knew those steel-toned streets like the palm of his hand. A man who could guide him like a lantern through those dark, twisted streets.

It would be just like Lightwards to refer to a stolen book as "my book on matter manipulators."

Wait... if Funtimes is Female!Discord... does that make Nathan Male!Fluttershy?

That about sums him up, yeah. Earlier I came across a female cover of "A Glass of Water," and couldn't stop imagining Funtimes with the flu as the singer.

"I am a stick." "Uh, what?" "I am a stick." "What does that mean?" "I am a stick!" "..." "I am a stick." "No you're not." "I am a stick!" "Wait, are you quoting one of those stupid fantasy books again?" "...I am a stick." * sigh * "Grow up, Kobold."

This makes me fear the unspeakable horrors of Cosmere clickbait. "Evildoers hate him! Learn how to smite evil with this crazy Awakening trick!"

You've still got a big ol' sword that you could sell on eBay or something.

That is a very good point. And that is an idea I've played with before--seemingly disconnected short stories that are all connected by common themes, races, and locations. H. P. Lovecraft did this to great effect, in my opinion; many of his stories give cryptic references to the Great Old Ones and shoggoths, making the universe seem vast and inscrutable. But as you read more and more of his stories--At the Mountains of Madness in particular--the history of the Old Ones and the shoggoths becomes clear, explaining the references from the other stories. "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas"? I'll have to take a look at that one. 0.0 I really want to see this now. That could be interesting. What kind of weather do you have in Australia around Christmas time? I for one would be immensely fascinating by reading a story about what people on the other side of the world associate with the holiday season. A thought occurred to me the other day--if humans colonized an alien planet, there would be no easy way to keep track of Christmas and the other holidays. Days on the planet would proportioned differently, as would be the years. When do you celebrate "Christmas" if you land on a perpetually sunny planet with 16-hour days and a 478-day year?

Thanks. Unobservant!Sam it is, then. Whoah. I genuinely hadn't thought to look at a map of The Dalles. (You know, it can be a little hard to remember the game revolves around real cities sometimes. Call me geographically ignorant, but I hadn't heard of Astoria or The Dalles before this RP.)

Maybe I'm kind of hoping that if the setting is awesome enough, people won't care that I have no story ideas worth a darn? Definitely a reply longer than I expected--but certainly appreciated! I think I have a better grasp on what his divination looks like now. Thanks! One more question: how quickly can he chart out these futures? If someone shot at him at point-blank range, could he map out the future quickly enough to know precisely where or how he should dodge?

I AM CONTENT WITH MY LOT. THIS RANK PLEASES THE KOBOLD KING.

This setting is also home to the Sky-State of the Grinners, the Hive Mountains of the Skordyr, and the Hailang Ghouls of Shanshen. How does that work, exactly? What constitutes a future that doesn't involve him? The butterfly effect would suggest that all futures are tied to him in some way or another. What degree of personal involvement is necessary for him to view a potential future? He definitely sounds like an interesting character. I very much look forward to seeing him in action. Does he have a physical description as of yet?

If there's an interest in sapient alien gazelles that I haven't fully fleshed out yet, then maybe I'll see about incorporating them somehow. Ooh, I like the name Stombaugh. I originally read it as "Stormbaugh," which is pretty badchull too. Any details about this Dragon you can share with us?