Kobold King

It still surprises you that Nighthound is interested in murder? Yeah, there are a lot of secret plans being bandied about. I've been involved in... let me count 'em... six different confidential PM discussions this past month, all devoted to varying degrees of Oregon conspiracy. I've slowly become more and more paranoid about what secrets are lurking in other players' inboxes. Unrelated, but I found a secondary icon for Lightwards POVs.

...Corrupted Voidgaze? Maybe VG decides to leave after her second encounter with Nighthound? No one would blame her. I'd leave after my first.

You're leaving for good? You'll certainly be missed. Good luck with your non-Shard pursuits!

Those limitations make sense. I've been wondering about her bullet limit for a while now. Question: is there anything she could do against flying, organic perils? If Lightwards reanimated a flock of birds and ordered them to rip her apart, would she be able to combat them with transfiguration, or would she be forced to flee?

Merciful Domi. First Pokémon, now this? Where can we hide?

I think it's fine. It's the least of Funtimes' sins against rationality. (And that was an awesome post in general, by the way.)

Epic powers definitely don't have to make sense, provided they remain consistent with their own rules. Maybe she based the watch off a clock that survived the Museum's transformation?

Funtimes honestly has one of the most bewildering powers in the RP. How much does she need to know in order to create an object? For example, say she made a copy of a great work of literature. Could she recreate Around the World in 80 Days word for word without memorizing it first, or would the book just be empty or filled with gibberish text?

Thanks. You can certainly write for him. I just wanted to write his initial post to establish his general personality. Particularly short Sam post in the Portland thread, though I managed to squeeze in a bit of her snark in a bit of graffiti. Next Sam post should contain a flashback.

Epics are hugging me. This is weird, and I don't like it. Gingerly, so she wouldn't anger the overly affectionate white Epic, Sam pulled herself free from the embrace. "OK, I think that's enough hugging for now. If you need anything else... well, uh, you know where to find us." She cast a nervous glance at Revolution, who was giving her a curious, studying expression. Sam coughed awkwardly. "I should get going now. Nice meeting you both." Revolution seemed to pick up on the lie, but Ms. Socially Awkward Blueberry probably wouldn't. Ray still stood there looking angry and powerless, making Sam feel a little like a slontze. "Well, uh, bye." Feeling more awkward by the second, Sam started walking away from the group. Revolution followed, giving a smiling farewell as she followed her into the jungle. Lucentia seemed almost... amused at the challenge. “While it´s true that one can´t earn his loyalty you also won´t mange to buy it, simply because he doesn´t have any and trust me once you have some kind of stability established here you do not want my brother to still be around. Calamity, I don´t want him to stay close to me, there are just some business that require him to show his face once in a while.” The tailor returned from the backroom bearing a fine blue dress, which Lucentia plucked from his arms. “Not that it matters at the moment," she continued. "Actually there is something I would like you to think about. Corpsemaker´s little robot display has one major flaw. He´s showing of the powers of one of his servants, mere mortals might not care about that but for a proper Epic it easily seems as if he is dependent on her to deal with anything that isn´t a worm. Now, excuse me for a second, we can head for that bakery right afterwards.” She retreated to the back room to change, leaving Lightwards alone with his Warriors. Not that this was a bad thing. Lightwards turned to face the Warriors he'd collected the previous day. Aside from the tailor, there was one older woman and three men of varying ages--not his finest crop, to be sure. But they would do. Pondering Lucentia's words as he did so, he steadily took the pistol from his belt and executed each Warrior in turn. He raised them each as he killed them, a couple of times each until he felt their presences strongly in his mind. After a few deaths apiece, the human Warriors had almost as strong a connection to him as the toy soldiers. Somewhat experimentally, he mentally ordered each of them to wave their arms. The second he'd given thought to the command, each zombie raised a languid arm into the air and began to wave. The task was finished at the same time Lucentia re-emerged from the changing room, now wearing the blue dress from before. Lightwards privately wondered why she bothered--if he could create his own clothing constructs, he'd never wear anything else. Especially not with Funtimes around. But it was her choice, he supposed. Stifling a yawn, Lightwards reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. Backtrack's handwriting was sloppy, and gave not a street address but rather a vague set of directions. Towards the river--three blocks south of the tailor's shop--a block east from Headshot's signature--smells like muffins. Familiarizing himself with the sparse instructions, Lightwards gathered his Warriors, smiled encouragingly at Lucentia, and headed out the shop door. Portland was just as empty as it had been before. The day was sunny, but few people took advantage of the nice weather. Every so often Lightwards would spot a pedestrian determinedly walking at the far ends of the street, only to rush indoors again at the sight of the two Epics. They're filled with such fear, he observed inwardly. It's good in some ways to have the populace in such terror, but this will make it awfully inconvenient if I need a new Warrior in a hurry. Perhaps he'd need to give another speech to make the people more secure with his leadership. He made up his mind to give another speech soon. Preferably without Funtimes turning the appearance into an obscene public make-out session. The two Epics walked in silence for a little while, neither attempting to make conversation. Lucentia strode by his side with a regal demeanor, existing as a living testimony to the proper dignity an Epic should embody. She was far from an enjoyable presence, and eventually she would be an enemy; but even so, Lightwards found himself respecting her far more than he could respect Doctor Funtimes' acts of random insanity. After three blocks of quiet walking, they came to a slightly more crowded portion of the downtown. Or at least, what may have once been a crowded residential area--now about a third of the buildings seemed to be in very poor repair, suggesting they'd been abandoned for a few years now. The place seemed to give out an aura of residential camouflage; inhabited dwellings generally seemed to blend in with the ruined. The inhabitants of this stretch of housing seemed to have found the ultimate habitat for avoiding Epic detection. Quite noticeable on the side of one brick house was what Lightwards presumed to be "Headshot's signature." The name "HEADSHOT" had been carved with what seemed to be hundreds of bullet marks, written in all caps and facing the street in a strikingly conspicuous manner. "We should be almost there," Lightwards informed his partner, stepping close to the building. The bullets had all struck like printer ink on a page, leaving hundreds--if not thousands--of small potmarks on the surface of the brick. And underneath the grandiose signature was a small piece of delicately written graffiti. The deceased Epic had written "HEADSHOT" at the top of the wall; a later vandal had continued the sentence with "has too much time on his hands." Lightwards sighed. "Yes. We're definitely approaching the Trattner residence." They continued for a short while. Eventually, he caught the warm odor of baked goods drifting down the street, apparently originating from a plain house with a "closed" sign hanging on the front door. "Excellent," Lightwards said with a smile, breathing in the smell. "I do believe we're here." He turned to Lucentia and continued. "Now, I doubt this particular errand will take long in its performance--I merely intend to collect a Warrior or two, leave another few behind to guard survivors, and then return to the Museum. If you'd care to assist me, I'm sure it will take only a few minutes." Idly, he wondered how many Trattners would die today. The answer was simple: however many it took.

Whoops. Really, really sorry. This thing keeps getting away from me. I'll do my best to get something, anything up today.

"The Whacky Adventures of Kaladino and Friends - Book 3: Shinovar Rocks"

Really? Knowing the nature of the magic, you still wish it? Very well. Your wish is granted, but your soul must be suitably broken first. You lose everyone you love. I could be really cruel and count that as granting your wish, and then give you an unrelated curse, but I'm not that mean. I wish for the ability to instantly vaporize people by pointing my finger at them.

Probably--I don't see why not. Correct me if I'm tragically, horribly wrong, but hasn't it been confirmed that Paliah is working at the Palaneum?

What unfortunate someone shares a name with Nighthound? ...oh. I see what you're saying. Carry on.

In which case, we'd better make sure he doesn't find the map Lightwards cut into a smiley face. Sounds good to me.

I'm thinking we'll first see Vondra once Backtrack and the twins get brought to him. So his first appearance will be through the eyes of outsiders. I still have no idea what Redlight's, Deathwishes, or Chicago Joe's weaknesses are, so I may not be any help here. EDIT: That is fine. I'd be honored. That is an excellent question. He's lived a fairly idyllic life compared to the likes of Remington, Sam, or even Lightwards, though he wouldn't be inclined to see it that way. He'd probably see a montage of himself being bullied by tougher guys and rejected by women all through life. If Quota stomped down his confidence and self-worth, he might even see the most horrifying possible sight: the truth of what an apathetic, horrible person he is. Heh. The meeting might actually be emotionally healthy for him, in the long run.

I had Sam's partially done, but even what I had is undergoing re-writes. But I should be ready to post the first one by the time Sam and Revolution squeeze away from Voidgaze. After the first one, there will be one or two more laying extra groundwork, and finally the last and most Traumatic™ of the bunch, to be revealed when she meets Quota.

...Built by order of who may be the most magic-aware individual on Roshar. I can't speak for the rest of us, but my mind is thoroughly blown.

Just the bakery scene on my end. And I was going to try to slip in a Sam flashback before in-game evening. EDIT: Have fun, mail-me!

Darn. I mean, nice to know how it works. She sounds neat! Does she have a bio and/or general description?

Kids today and their eye-pods. And don't try to tell me I'm prejudiced, since I know precisely what I'm talking about.

I'd be fine with it. But how much can she actualize? I guess what I'm getting at is, what happens if she writes "And then Nighthound died" on a sheet of paper?

If Nighthound, Quota, and Reader ever formed an alliance, everyone else in the Fractured States would destroy Oregon just to smite the abomination from the face of the earth.

In the Empire! (In the Empire...) Honestly, I don't see why anyone would willingly work for Altermind or CM when gladiatorial velociraptor fights are available.