Kobold King

I think this xkcd is relevant once again.

 

 

 

David Charleston had a very stringent set of goals for his life.

One: join the Reckoners. Check.

Two: kill Steelheart. Check.

Three: buy a Chicago style hot dog. Check.

Four: ...cupcake.

That last one wasn't necessarily something that had been planned out as precisely as the others. Honestly, it hadn't even been on the agenda until this morning. The smell of fresh baked goods after a lifetime without them, like an angry High Epic attack, had a way of reshaping your schedule.

"The way I see it," David said, walking briskly with his rifle slung over his back, "Back before Calamity, companies would have breakrooms where people would, you know, take a break."

"Your understanding of the world before your time never ceases to amaze me," Abraham said dryly. He said it with a smile. Since the Mitosis incident he'd normally been the one to accompany David on these occasional excursions into the city; after all, someone had to.

"I'm going somewhere with this," David replied. "I'm saying that, in some of those breakrooms, you'd probably find cupcakes. So us making this detour is basically like any regular person with a cubicle job."

"Except instead of a cubicle, there are murderers with superpowers waiting for us when we're done."

"Well, yeah. That'd be the biggest difference."

Abraham stroked his chin for a moment. "Truth be told, I am glad to have avoided the cubicle. Small victories, I suppose. This was still a terrible and rather pointless metaphor, David."

"It's not a metaphor. It's more like a rationalization."

"Why on Earth do you need a rationalization for buying a cupcake?"

Honestly... he didn't have an answer for that one. That was sort of the thing you understood or you didn't. David didn't fully understand himself. Maybe it was the tension in the air; killing Steelheart had essentially declared all-out war against the Epics, and they were acting in turn. Just walking down the street he had to keep a constant eye out for anybody who looked like they might start shooting laser beams out of their eyes or summoning marshmallow golems, because, well, they might.

And it wasn't even the ones who wanted to incinerate him on the spot he was most anxious to pick out of the crowd. Blonde hair and a thin figure still made him do a double take every time they walked by, and not for any of the normal reasons. In so far as having a dead but reincarnated almost girlfriend who might be evil wasn't normal.

The long and short of it was, little distractions meant all the difference in the world right now. Even if they felt unearned, with how much the world at large still sucked.

Then again...

Newcago had changed, and it was hard not to appreciate the fresh new pace the city enjoyed even when you were constantly checking over your shoulder for lunatics with guns for hands or lightning in their fingertips. The city was already almost unrecognizable from the dark dystopia that Steelheart had ruled; even aside from the novel sensation of daylight, the buildings themselves were different. Paint was going up at a rapid pace. No longer was it a neverending labyrinth of drab stainless steel architecture; now pastel blues and the brightest of reds all blurred together like a clown in a washing machine.

Abraham said the clashing colors gave him a headache. Prof, when asked, expressed indifference. But to David there was no better symbol of the change they'd brought to the city, except maybe the little businesses beginning to sprout up here and there. Back in normal days, hot dog stands or small home bakeries wouldn't be anything unusual. But here and now, they were the mark of people beginning to act like people again.

A bell rang when they walked in the business door, which put a grin across David's face that Abraham only shook his head at. A bell on a door! He hadn't heard one of those in years! But even that little wonder was quickly overtaken by a fresh wave of incredible smells.

There was a display case at the front of the shop that shielded tons of cupcakes. Every one of them was a tiny masterpiece; their forms were as cupcake-y as could be, and the frosting on top of them danced in all sorts of designs.

Most had black and red roses delicately emblazoned across their tops. Others were plain except for a pretty shade of orange. A couple had somehow been decorated in a creative military camo motif. Still others swirled with the brightest, most flamboyant colors imaginable, topped with what he assumed was edible glitter.

Just from looking at these he was briefly a kid again. A kid in a world where candy and pastries were just a trip to the store with Dad away.

"Whoah, hey, real customers. Hang on and I'll be right out."

A woman's voice snapped him out of it, and he straightened as she made her appearance. To his surprise she didn't actually seem that much older than him. She had the permanently widened eyes that most newcomers from the outside world had when they arrived in Newcago, and a couple of lines across her forehead that no teenager would have had in the world before Calamity. But setting those aside she looked like a normal young woman, maybe nineteen or in her very early twenties. With her vivid green eyes and smooth black hair she might even be pretty, if David noticed that sort of thing in women who weren't toting at least three guns.

She poked her head out of the kitchen, evaluating them for a moment before recognition lit up in her eyes. He should have braced for that. As much as he'd tried to stay mediocre and unnoticeable his whole life, all of a sudden everyone knew his face.

"I know who you are," she said in a matter of fact tone. She put a tray of fresh cupcakes down on the counter, those green eyes drilling into him. "I've seen your face before."

"Er, yeah," he replied awkwardly. He still wasn't sure what to say when the citizens singled him out like this. Abraham chuckled behind him, which was not cool given teammates were supposed to have each other's backs.

"You," the woman went on, "are the dorky guy who was greeting newcomers last month."

"Oh." He'd been doing that a lot here lately, always trying to make a good impression on those who'd come flooding into the city upon hearing the news. As many people had left fearing the inevitable Epic reprisal for Steelheart's death, it had been important to him that those who had braved the harsh roads of the Fractured States had met a friendly face. He put on a smile for the baker. "Yeah, that's me. Just trying to make everyone feel at home."

"You were doing a pretty good job," the woman noted. "Then Instabam showed up like ten minutes after I got here. That was a little less comforting but I guess it turned out okay."

He grinned awkwardly. "So you were part of that group. Sorry for the weird first impression."

"Ha!" she actually grinned back, looking genuinely amused. "Instabam, weird? He was the bottom of the barrel. I know weird. I grew up in Portland."

With that she turned around, working on something in the cabinets behind her as David's eyes widened. Abraham whistled softly beside him; not many people had made it out of Oregon in one piece.

Megan had. She also had rarely talked about it, and he'd never pressed her. The chaos, the turf wars... they were all the stuff of legend even to the lorists, and those rare survivors who'd seen the happenings with their own eyes wouldn't often talk about it.

Yet this woman had made it out. Not only had she survived, but she was also one of the only Newcago immigrants bold enough to start their own shop.

"Anyway," she went on, turning around with even more of the brightly colored cupcakes, "I think you're eligible for this new policy I'm trying to start. People who've killed an Epic get a free cupcake. Instabam qualifies you. Barely."

David blinked. He liked seeing the people of Newcago finally taking risks again, but this...

"That is... bold," Abraham remarked.

The woman shrugged. "If you're a target just for starting up a shop, you don't really have anything to gain from being subtle about it. Worse that could happen is I get murdered by an Epic, which, let's face it, would happen sooner or later anyway if you guys didn't catch them first."

"I guess that's one way of looking at it," David admitted. "Look at you. Fighting the Epic establishment with cupcakes."

"It's more profitable than just making fun of their fashion sense," she said with another little smirk. "Now. There's a scaling system to it. Instabam was only worth one free cupcake. But others are worth more."

Abraham raised an eyebrow. "You've put thought into this?"

"Yup. I call it the ATTD system. The cupcakes scale according to how happy you are to hear 'And Then They Died.' So hearing Instabam is dead is only worth one. But Nightweiner-"

"Nightwielder."

"-that's what I said—is worth two of my cupcakes because two equal the amount of happiness people have hearing 'And Then He Died.'"

"I am not sure if you are ambivalent towards Epics or very confident in the quality of your baking," said Abraham.

"Definitely the latter." With that she turned her eyes back to David. There was a twinkle in them; the same kind of twinkle that were in Cody's. Hurt, maybe even diminished, but still very much present even when everyone else had lost theirs. "So anway, what I'm getting at is that Steelheart is worth at least three. You might be able to talk me into four."

Aaaaand suddenly that grin and that twinkle made sense. David kicked himself for considering otherwise. "You know exactly who I am."

"Uh, obviously." She gave him a flat expression. "I'm not stupid. Well, that's arguable since I'm giving out free cupcakes for dead Epics in a city that still has Epics. But that just makes it worse that I could see through your ingenious disguise of..."

She looked him up and down for a pointed moment. "...long Reckoners coat and combat rifle on the back, with no mask."

"Alright, I get it," David replied, putting his hands in the air. "To be fair I'm not trying to disguise myself. I'm just... not announcing myself everywhere."

"Probably smart," she noted. "So are you claiming the free cupcakes or not? Obliteration is worth five, if you take commissions."

"I'm paying," David said firmly. "You're a new business. You need actual patronage."

"You'd think that, wouldn't you?" She smiled widely. "My plan was to sign up for a cafeteria and work my way up, but the moment I said I wanted to start a shop they practically threw money and an empty building at me."

"The mayor wants to make the city a place of commerce again," Abraham said. "But not many are seizing the opportunities just yet. You arrived at just the right time, if you aren't afraid of being annihilated by a random Epic."

In spite of Abraham's comment, David found himself smiling. The city's efforts were working. This bakery was proof of it.

"So your plan went further along than you expected," he said. "What's the next step?"

"Well... I didn't think I'd get this far," she admitted. "So for now the plan is to sell cupcakes, to get plump from the leftover frosting, and to die at the ripe old age of thirty-five. I'd count that as a win."

"Don't be so pessimistic! Things are looking up!"

"Go kill some more Epics and I'll think about it." She waved a hand at the empty street outside the bakery. "Now hurry up and place an order, 'Steelslayer'! You're holding up the line!"

So soon his plan came to fruition. He sat across from Abraham at the only table in the building, a platter of cupcakes laid out in front of him. He wanted to give this new business as much of his support as possible, so he'd bought one of everything; at least, that was his excuse to himself for not being able to choose just one.

A full platter was in front of him. He picked up a rainbow-sprinkled, glittery treasure of a cupcake, letting its amazingness soak into him. From behind the counter he felt the baker's eyes watching him like a hawk, no doubt ready to gauge his reaction. Well if that's what she wanted, he'd give her one.

He took a big bite, and-

...

Bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

He chewed and he swallowed in stunned amazement, well aware of Abraham scarfing down his second already on the other end of the table. When he was done with the bite he turned to the baker with a smile.

"That..." he said in awe, "...was like a unicorn commando."

Her expectant face suddenly went blank with confusion.

"...what."

"It's like this," David explained. "A unicorn's something incredibly rare and amazing that you never thought you'd actually find. But then imagine finding one, and it's also a commando—it's more awesome than you'd ever even dreamed!"

She stared at him, blinking slowly. "Uh... thanks! I guess."

David didn't mind the questioning tone. He was already digging right back into the platter, which seemed to satisfy her more than his very eloquent praise had.

He reveled in that afternoon of sugar and frosting. Occasionally chatting back and forth with Abraham, with Newcago's best baker adding her own remarks every now and again. Sparks, this was exactly the sort of afternoon the world had been missing.

"One thing I'm still missing is a name," the woman remarked after a while, scrolling on a recently issued mobile. "Proper businesses have names."

"You are currently the only functioning bakery on the overstreets," Abraham pointed out. "And I would not expect there to be any down underneath."

"That won't always be the case," David said. "More will follow, and it won't be crazy to make yourself stand out from them."

"That's what I'm thinking," she replied. "But coming up with names isn't easy. Thought about using mine, but if I call it Sam's Bakery people will think it's the hot dog guy."

"He makes great hot dogs though," David said, ignoring Abraham's grimace.

"Yeah, doesn't really help sell cupcakes," the woman—Sam—replied. "And 'Samantha's Bakery' sucks too. I want something with a little more pizzazz, but there aren't a ton of good names available that won't paint an even bigger target sign on you. Like if I called it Tasty Treats, I guarantee you some slontze with baking powers will show up because I violated his trademark."

"It's not quite that bad," David said. "There was one called Treat-tastic, though."

"See! Epics always pick the worst names. Except maybe-" She bit her lip, not carrying on. Abraham kept on wolfing down the cupcakes, but David found himself looking curiously at her.

This was someone with stories. Maybe not stories she wanted to tell. But stories nonetheless. Every little thing she said or did made that clear.

He started to open his mouth again, but was interrupted by his own mobile buzzing.

He and Abraham checked them quickly, having learned not to delay with this sort of thing. Sam's eyes went wide.

"Epic alert?" She was tense; as much bravado as she showed, like any sane human she was ready to get the Calamity out of dodge if an Epic was coming through.

"It is very much worse," Abraham said with a grimace. "About a half hour from now the city council wants us to sit in on a meeting. Those are the worst."

"And a long walk," David groaned. "We should get going."

"Oh. I see." Sam had relaxed, but her shoulders had drooped. There was a fresh new anxiety on her face, and David had no clue what it might mean. "Here, let me just... get you a to-go box."

"That'd be awesome. And you know, we'll be back sometime soon."

"Pfft. You're Reckoners. You can't promise that." She set about dutifully pulling a box out for them, as the two Reckoners made themselves ready for travel. "Also I'm packing those free cupcakes in here. Don't care, so don't argue. You can feed them to the city council if you want. They're the ones who hooked me up with more flour than I know what to do with."

"Business will start booming," David promised. "You'll do great."

"Or I'll get burned alive or something. Either way it'll be a ride." She gave a crisp grin as the two turned to leave, thanking her for the food.

But right when they were starting to open the door she interrupted.

"Wait."

They both paused, David turning all the way back around.

"Aww, sparks." She was staring straight at the ground, looking awkward for the first time since they'd walked in. She tapped her fingers together, as though trying to figure out the words to what she wanted to say.

"Look, I don't want to keep you, but..."

What was this? A last minute expression of gratitude? David steeled himself. Those always made him uncomfortable, but maybe he could take this one in stride.

"I... I need to tell you about what happened in Oregon."

Oh.

Oh.

"...you don't have to," David assured her. "There aren't many accounts left, but... we can put together the details. You don't have to relive any painful memories for us."

"It's not the painful ones I'm offering you."

She bit her lip, before blurting out her next sentence as though worried she might stop herself.

"There—there was a good Epic."

David froze. So did Abraham. They shared a look with one another, unsure of what to say.

Before the last few hectic months, it would have been a laughable claim. Maybe not to Abraham—after all this time he was still one of the Faithful. But to David, the mere idea would have been anathema.

But then he'd found out he was working for one.

And then, if that wasn't enough, he'd fallen in love with one.

"Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds crazy," Sam went on, an irritable edge in her voice. She had no way of knowing what Prof was, let alone Megan. "But Oregon was crazy. Maybe there was something in the air, but nothing at all happened like you'd expect there."

She took another deep breath. "This one... well... have you ever heard of Doctor Funtimes?"

"Matter manipulator. Teleporter." David spoke without thinking, years of Epic studies rushing to the front of his mind. Though in this case, he had nothing but a mere quarter of a notebook page entirely filled up with weird tall tales. Her stories were obscure and usually discounted even in the most serious of scholarly circles. Sometimes especially in the most serious of scholarly circles. "She's in some of the Oregon accounts, but lorists aren't really sure if she was real or not. A lot of weird stories came out of those. Weird even for Epics."

"She was real," Sam said flatly. "You can trust me on that. And whatever you've read about her, she was weirder. The first time I saw her she made it rain pancakes."

"...what."

"It's true." Her expression was fierce, and somehow even the idea of doubting her was ridiculous. "And then she kidnapped me and carted me around Oregon with her for a while. Me and a few others. I got a front row seat to way more of that whole... thing than I ever wanted."

"...I'm sorry," David said, unsure.

"Don't be. Everyone has an Epic sob story. I'm not trying to tell you mine." Sam folded her arms, before looking up to meet his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that... she let me go. At the end of it all. She released me, and never actually hurt me."

"Not every Epic kills for no reason," Abraham said.

"You don't get it. She didn't just let me go... she apologized to me."

David and Abraham both stared at her blankly. Weak explanations came bubbling up in David's brain, though he didn't get a chance to voice any of them.

"I know what you're thinking. Weird Epic was just being weird, right? But you don't get it. When she kidnapped me she was all... bubbly, with scariness underneath. But when she apologized... when she told me I could go... that all melted away."

With another shaky breath she continued. "She just seemed like... an ashamed woman. Like she'd just... snapped out of whatever it was that came over her."

This was all impossible. Not because a good Epic wasn't possible. Prof was proof of that. So was Megan—he knew it.

But all accounts said Doctor Funtimes used her powers basically non-stop. There couldn't be any possible way...

"I know how it sounds," Sam repeated, firmly. "But it's true. And what's more, without her getting me out of Portland I would probably be dead."

"This is a lot to take in," Abraham said matter of factly.

"Yeah? Try being there." She rubbed her shoulder, eyes drifting. "I... I don't know what it means. I don't know why she changed. I don't know if it's even something that could ever happen again, or if it was all part and parcel with just how... weird everything got there. Maybe it was a once-in-a-million-years sort of deal. But it's a story, and it's true. It happened to me. And I don't go around telling people that story, because they won't believe me, but..."

"I believe you," David said softly.

She stopped, looking at him askance. "...you do? 'Cause you don't have to say that."

"I don't know what exactly happened," David admitted, "But I believe you when you say something happened."

A look of what could only be described as relief went across her face. "I... thank you. Really."

She shook her head, looking for a moment as though she were somewhere else entirely. "I don't know if it'll be helpful to you. But if there's even a chance that this is something you're looking into, or if this is a clue you need, then... I figured this was my one chance to tell it to someone who could actually do something with it."

A weak smile crossed her lips.

"You know. So maybe what happened in Oregon could lead to one good thing."

David nodded slowly. "I think I get it."

"I hoped you would. Most Epics are still slontzes, don't get me wrong. Most of them back in Oregon are buried there under all the dust they made, and I wouldn't have them any other way. But if you ever run into Doctor Funtimes..." She gave an uncertain shrug. "...maybe do some research before you put a bullet in her head. Assuming she doesn't just turn your gun into a hamster anyway."

David smiled at her. "Thank you. I think... this was actually what I needed to hear right now."

"Glad to hear it."

"You know, it's actually kind of like-"

"Oh don't you dare."

"No no, this one's actually pretty good," he went on. "It's like a garbage daffodil."

"I hate you and I hate that that one almost makes sense," Sam informed him.

"It does," David explained. "Because the world's so full of garbage right now, you root through it and you only expect to find garbage. But your story's like a daffodil, somehow growing in it. Something beautiful and hope-inspiring."

Sam rubbed her forehead. "I'm starting to think you didn't actually kill Steelheart. I think you just made bad comparisons at him until he went and blew himself up."

"That's, uh... more accurate than it has any right to be." David's mobile gave yet another buzz, as did Abraham's. "Oh, that. We should actually get going this time."

"Probably, yeah. Get out of here, you lazy bureaucrats. Don't you know you've got meetings and stuff to get to?"

She said it and watched them leave with a smile. Looking over his shoulder, David could see her through the window watching them, before suddenly seeming to have an idea, typing it up on her mobile before heading to the back room.

He was glad they stopped there, and made a note to be back soon. Maybe next time with Cody.

 

-----------------------

 

David Charleston never again made it back to Sam's bakery. It wasn't long after this chance meeting that he fought and killed the Epic Sourcefield, soon finding himself traveling across the Fractured States to the city of Babylon Restored. Many events of import happened there. Even more happened when he left; he found himself far too busy to stop at the bakery he'd been to in Newcago for some time.

But he and Sam both were right about something. Good Epics were possible; even with their powers. The woman he loved proved that. And in time, as Calamity retreated, a new age came forth; an age of retreating villains and of blossoming heroes.

And in this new age, in the reclaimed city of Newcago, there stood a bakery. It had business day in and day out, such that the woman in charge had to hire quite a few employees just to keep it running.

("And I have to rule them with an iron fist," she'd say. "Isn't that ironic?")

It was a simple business, but a powerful idea; she was a human, and she pursued her happiness like anyone had a right to. And as time went by, you would often hear citizens of Newcago giving a simple recommendation to their visiting friends from elsewhere in the Reunited States.

"Oh man. You've got to stop by Funtimes Bakery."

Those writing guides that list the greatest closing lines in literature as an example to students need to add another entry.

 

 

On 12/6/2018 at 10:30 AM, EnergyEpic said:

Has anybody seen they came out with a new board game for the Reckoners? It looks really cool!

 

I'm a huge fan of Sentinels of the Multiverse, so I'm encouraged to see another superhero game on the market--especially one based on my favorite setting of the type! I don't know if I'll wind up getting it, but the interest is definitely there.

I can't even remember the last time I laughed this hard at a fanfiction.

I'm not saying that other people's opinions aren't valid...

...however...

 

Anyone who didn't vote for Mizzy is factually and morally in the wrong.

Coming soon: Ironsides Simulator, the only base management game in which you sacrifice wave after wave of your own men and read every single one of their individual casualty reports!

On 12/1/2018 at 7:41 AM, Ookla the Sugar Skull said:

Someone commented on the Skyward that they heard M-Bot as Alan Tudyk and I love it

 

...K2SO or King Candy?

Just finished this.

...

I've got a real hankering for mushrooms now.

2 hours ago, The Young Pyromancer said:

I find it funny that the summary said Nicroburst's location is a well-sought-after secret, yet literally no one has been searching for him, or even expressed any motive to!  I mean, Epoch's laid back, Typhon's Typhon, Armageddon doesn't know anything, we know nothing about the MEC because Voidus is gone and I doubt they would seek him out anyways, Orbit is busy running his criminal operation, and everyone else is either new or neutral.  I mean, I guess Doubletake could have been looking for him, but one faction doesn't really count as "well-sought-after" in my opinion.    There is literally no mention of him in-thread, or any reason why anyone would want to find him.

EDIT: Epic ability activate!

 

"Yeah, I'm totally sought after. Really. Like... everybody's after me. Every... body..."

* starts crying *

"I just want someone to care enough to chase me..."

If A Series of Unfortunate Events and Fullmetal Alchemist were combined into a freakish chimera of a show.

11 hours ago, Voidus said:

I think Edge said he'd contacted Twi but she was bogged down with work atm, haven't tried @Kobold King yet though.

 

It's really tempting, but considering how my posts dwindled last time, and the various things I'm trying to keep up with right now, I just don't think I could make it work out.

I'm very sorry, but I'll have to sit this one out.

I wish all of you the best of luck getting this started, though!

The Very Organized Thief is a free game available on Game Jolt in which the player takes the role of a thief with a meticulous list of items they must steal from a house. The owner of the house will arrive at a certain point and will personally catch and subdue the thief if they are not fast enough to get out. It is a simple game with nothing in the way of a story, but that doesn't stop me from overthinking it a bit.

Theory: the titular Very Organized Thief knows the Owner and has been to the house before in a non-criminal context.

Here's my reasoning. The Thief enters the home with a randomized list of items to steal, and will not take any item (aside from stacks of money) that is not on the list. This is slightly peculiar behavior for a thief, but it gets weirder. Some items on the list are fairly generic; the list might include a television, or a computer, or other items that one could wager almost certainly exist in an average house. But some items are oddly specific. The list might include such items as "a stamp album," "expensive wine," or the especially specific "portrait of a lady." To me this suggests that the Thief has been to the house before, and knows exactly what items are good enough to steal. Most of the items can be debated, but the "portrait of a lady" almost certainly indicates an amount of specific foreknowledge on the part of the Thief. It's simply too specific of an item to randomly guess exists in a house.

The game rewards the player with a high score for acquiring all required items in a short amount of time, which is virtually impossible on a first playthrough. Subsequent playthroughs however will give the player a very good idea of the layout of the house and the placement of items, allowing the Thief to steal everything on their list in as little as forty seconds in some playthroughs. From a meta perspective, this is because of the ability to start the game over fresh and learn the layout of the house through trial and error. From an in-universe perspective, the fact that the title "Very Organized Thief" is only given for such a run suggests to me that if a story exists, it is that the 'protagonist' of a Thief is capable of this feat without the Undertale-like ability to reset time. This ought only to be possible if they have been in this house before.

(Admittedly, this is my weakest point. It relies on the meta detail of the game's scoring system. However in a game titled "The Very Organized Thief," I feel it's fair to assume that the ending which bestows this title upon the player is the most likely to be 'canon,' such as that word is.)

From these two lines of reasoning we can believe that the Thief has been to the Owner's house before, and knows its items and layout well enough to conduct a very organized targeted robbery in the dead of the night. The question becomes this: who is the Thief, and when did they first come into this house? Here are a couple of hypotheses.

1:

The Thief stakes out their targets ahead of time. It is possible the Thief set their sights on this house beforehand, potentially even making entry in the past to scout out its loot and layout. It would be a scheme befitting of a "Very Organized Thief," and seeing as the Owner possesses a personal safe with goldbars and thousands of dollars worth of cash in their bedroom, it's probable that they are a known wealthy individual and thus a likely target for an aspiring plunderer.

2:

The Thief has visited the house in a non-criminal context. Perhaps they were invited to a house party, or visited as a plumber or a electrician to work on the house. If this is the case I would suspect the Thief to be an electrician, as the player has the ability to selectively cut wires and disable functions of the house alarm system should they so choose.

3:

The Thief and the Owner are estranged family or estranged lovers. This is my personal favorite theory. If the Thief and the Owner were former romantic partners sharing a home it would explain how the Thief knows the layout of the house and has the means of creating a list of items to steal. Perhaps after a bitter dispute the Thief breaks in to steal all of the items that they feel entitled to. Perhaps they were not romantic partners but were instead siblings, and what we are witnessing is an inheritance dispute.

Perhaps the Thief is a deadbeat sibling or spouse, and although ostensibly kicked out of the Owner's life, they feel entitled to break in and "borrow" any item they feel like. Perhaps the Very Organized Thief lives a Very Lonely Life, shunned by the one person they had some semblance of family with.

Perhaps I'm really REALLY over analyzing this free Game Jolt game.

There's also the possibility that Thanos is actually just certifiably insane, in keeping with his comics title of "The Mad Titan."

6 minutes ago, Silverblade5 said:

I will say that most of the time, my thoughts end up going in similar directions. When I see people debating relationships in stories, I do often find myself confused as to why romantic relationships are assumed. Then again, this might just be due to me being blind to romance in general.

 

As I said, there are valid reasons to make the argument.

I just think the argument is often unevenly applied.

Just now, Voidus said:

Does he have a green hat?

 

Sadly no, she doesn't.

Not until I give her an accessory upgrade, that is.

3 minutes ago, Voidus said:

Is there any section of the fandom dedicated to creating new superheros? 

 

I've seen some fan-made decks and cards, so maybe...

My fic, predictably, mostly centers around a character who can resurrect after death.

1 minute ago, Voidus said:

Oh you know, lurking in Alleys, making cookies. The usual.
I've actually only just come back from a pretty long period of minimal activity too, work started getting a bit hectic and without the Reckoners RP I didn't have as big of a daily time commitment to 17S.
Can I ask which fandom? I'm kindof curious now.

 

Nice to know things never change around these parts.

Sentinels of the Multiverse, a superhero card game with some lore I got really invested in. I went too long without writing superhumans and started going stir crazy.

Just now, Voidus said:

@Kobold King the one that always gets me is that if a woman is friends with one man and then starts trying to have a romantic relationship with someone else it will almost inevitably turn into a love triangle. Sometimes friends are just friends.
Also, HI KOBOLD! Long time no see.

 

Good to see you! How have you been?

Sorry I haven't been around too often. I've been writing fanfic. I have almost twenty thousand words written!

...in an obscure fandom with maybe four or five potential readers. Whatever though, I make myself happy with it.

Little bit of a ramble today because this is in my head. The random stuff threads are still for anything that pops into your head, right?

Often times in a fandom shipping is conducted. Two characters wind up paired together by segments of the fandom, and various pieces of art and fanfiction arise depicting them in a romantic relationship. Anyone who's been in a fandom understands that this happens.

But increasingly I've seen an anti-shipping attitude on the Internet, or at least, a very particular argument against it. The argument goes that shipping is a bad pursuit because it turns a wholesome platonic friendship and "forces it" to become romantic. The argument goes that it is part of a general devaluation of platonic relationships in our society; an idea that romantic relationships are the most valuable and that platonic relationships are not appreciated.

I see where this argument is coming from, and I agree with it. A platonic relationship is an extremely valuable thing, and often times our society and our media don't fully accentuate that like it should be. When shippers conclude that two characters should be together solely because they act in a way that platonic friends should, it can show an inherent lack of understanding of what value a platonic relationship can hold without ever becoming romantic.

But here's the uncomfortable trend I've seen that makes me uncomfortable with this argument: the fact that I almost exclusively see it applied to homosexual pairings.

In almost any Hollywood movie, if there is a male character and there is a female character, the movie will pair them together at the end. This is especially true of a television series with these characters as part of a main cast. At this point there's almost an expectation that this will happen. The man and the woman belong together. Eventually, romance will come up.

If we are going to open a conversation on the devaluation of platonic relationships in our society, I believe it should start here. Why can't the male and female characters be strong friends but not lovers? It's starting to happen more and more in movies, but often as a way of establishing that the woman is "strong and independent" and don't need no man. It's more of a feminist ideology than one that wants to explore the value of platonic love. Hollywood is a major trailblazer for popular culture. Hollywood should be a major focus on any discussion of tropes, harmful or otherwise.

And yet so many of these people who are oh so devoted to platonic love don't seem to mind when Hollywood does it. They make these arguments of theirs solely when a fanfiction decides to pair a man and a man or a woman and a woman. They may even deny it being a problem in movies with male and female protagonists, or turn a blind eye when a fanfiction explores a heterosexual pairing that isn't featured in canon.

Now, that is not to say that everyone who has ever made this argument is doing so out of homophobia. Far from it. I've made this argument before; I've seen a number of very rational people on this very forum say this very thing. But I believe that the rationality of this argument has attracted people to it who harbor some inherent discomfort with the idea of homosexuality, and rather than being honest with themselves about the reasons seeing these things make them uncomfortable, they latch onto a rational-sounding argument for why it's a bad thing and why their distaste for it is entirely justified.

I think at the end of the day, it bears merit for all of us to take a look at the opinions we hold, no matter how trivial, and think long and hard about why we feel this way. Are we in pursuit of rationality, or are we seeking to justify our prejudice? Do we want to see a better and brighter world or just one that suits us personally a little better? Is it shipping we dislike, or the fact that other people might interpret a character that we relate to as a gay man or a lesbian?

And really, at the end of the day, don't tell other fans what's right or wrong for them to do. If they're not actively hurting anyone, leave them be to play with their ships.

 

 

This message was sponsored by the Anonymous Twilight Sparkle / Starlight Glimmer Shippers of America.

12 hours ago, Slowswift said:

...that ain’t right.

Seriously. I don’t feel remotely prepared, mentally or physically, to be twenty. 

 

 

My mother keeps reminding me I'm legally old enough to drink and every part of me rebels at being considered so legally responsible.

"Witness the end of the resistance," Snoke breathed, sadistic glee burning in his eyes. "See the transports carrying your friends burst into flame, one by one. That's two of them at once... now three... now four... now a five six seven eight...!"

Upbeat jazz music began playing from all corners of the red throne room, guards leaping into a choreographed routine as the Supreme Leader produced a cane, top hat, and tap dancing shoes out of nowhere. Rey watched the spectacle with horror and confusion. Kylo Ren sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

10 hours ago, A Joe in the Bush said:

Has anyone seen the MLP movie? And want to talk about it? or about the upcoming Season 8? Or the Up coming Generation 5?

 

I loved it! Liev Schrieber knocked it out of the park as the Storm King.