Kobold King

That would be really incredibly awesome. That would be kind of harmful, yes. I was going to have Backtrack grab their hands and drag them to the exit while Nighthound's distracted. Is that fine?

Um, both? I get the feeling that it'll be Backtrack's turn to be physically sick when he sees into Koschei's head. (On that note, Voidus' comment about Backtrack kind of raised a bit more pity for the character. Backtrack might end up dead, but if I can find a way to do so reasonably, he might also be redeemed. We'll just have to wait and see what happens.) I'm the one who wrote "Lightwards punched Traveler," so I think I'll stay far away from Funtimes.

Whoops. There are so many sources of true evil in this RP I got them mixed up. Yep, Lightwards is heading to the zombie tailor's shop and to a bakery.

I get the feeling we'll find out very soon, once he gets a glimpse of Koschei. Lightwards is about to go into town to run some errands. She's welcome to come along and talk to them as he does so. Or he could talk to her first and reach some sort of agreement. It's your choice.

Yeah... Backtrack's kind of a sad and pathetic man. He used to be a good-hearted sci-fi geek who avoided any kind of human contact. Nowadays he's a completely apathetic person who desperately tries to look cool in front of everyone he he meets. If Intervention attacked him, you would hear the drunken soliloquy to end all drunken soliloquy's. Maybe Upgrade could supercharge Sightline, allowing him to carry part of Portland out of Oregon and into safety? Serious suggestion, because that would be awesome. Speaking of awesome. I love those!

So who else foresees Backtrack dying a horrible death when he puts his arm around Smokey? (I love them, by the way. )

Who does that psychotic slontze think he is? Backtrack fumed as he ran up the jungle path. Nobody talks to Steve Lawrence like that. I ought to show him the full wrath of Backtrack... He didn't go back and show him, of course. There was a reason why Lightwards would join the ever-growing list of people who would never meet the full wrath of Backtrack. That reason was simple: the full wrath of Backtrack wasn't all that intimidating. Guns and rabid dinosaurs, on the other hand, were very intimidating. Kicking himself for following this guy into town, Backtrack stopped at the Museum exit. It suddenly occurred to him that he had no way of getting down from this infernal place without another Epic. Real smooth, Backtrack, he thought irritably to himself. Way to lock yourself in with these psychos... His eyes scanned the crowd of mingling Epics, before inevitably settling on the pair of twins. There was a moment of hesitation--he was well aware of how terrified he was at the moment. He didn't want to blow his impression in front of the girls by showing just how panicky he could be. Why, he wouldn't get show much as a peck on the cheek if they saw how shaky he was now. Play it cool, Backtrack, he told himself firmly. You got this. Spitting on his hand and slicking his hair back, he strode over to where the twin Epics were chatting. The pair of them were staring at the goth and the hippie, apparently unsure how to react to the other girl's latest remarks. Backtrack seized the opportunity to sneak up behind them and throw his arms around their shoulders. "Hiya Impact!" he exclaimed happily. "Hiya MV! Still looking as gorgeous as ever, I see." Before any of the gathered people could respond, he touched their arms gently, showing a few shots of the Museum's recent past. These were shots he'd taken a look at when he'd first walked in the door--shots that had made him want to walk right back out. Squeezing their arms slightly while maintaining a nervous chuckle, he showed them various shots of Nighthound abusing that girl in the dog collar. "Take a look at that, ladies," he whispered urgently. "This gentleman's your main chance at decent company right now. So here's your choice: you come take a leisurely drive with me to The Dalles and back again, or you wait for him to come along and find a pair of matching collars." He hugged the two twins close to himself, waiting for a response while he grinned at the snickering vanilla girls. This just kept getting better and better. While the request for a story seemed simple enough to Aldo, something seemed to snap inside of Traveler. The not-Epic stared at him for a moment before his breathing rate become slightly higher, his face twitching in ways characteristic of general dissatisfaction and irritation. Traveler, it seemed, was not having a good day. "All right, Aldo," the man said finally. "I'll tell you my story, but I need to know something first. What you get out of this is clear. You get to know who I am, where I came from, and what I'm doing here, but you never said what I get out of it. So tell me: If I tell you my story, what are you willing to do for me?" Aldo whistled softly, leaning back in his chair. "So you're a negotiator as well as an actor now?" he exclaimed cheerfully. "You drive a hard bargain sir, but I think I have an offer." He glanced around in a conspiratorial manner before scooting closer to Traveler. "How 'bout a fair trade?" he suggested with a smile. "A story for a story. You tell me how you came to be here, and I tell you how I came to be here. Tell me how you met Doctor Funtimes, and I tell you how I met the Tennessee Sibyl."

Yep, he's anxious to get out of the Museum. I'm trying to write up a post about it now. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it before I collapse at the keyboard. That is actually a possibility, by the way. My next post might have to wait till tomorrow.

While Aldo has many such anecdotes that he'd be happy to relate, the tale of the Tennessee Sibyl is not one of them. It's actually something I've been hoping to sneak in for a while now but never saw an opening. Be warned, it's somewhat meta. I put CM in a turtleneck when I did that comic a while back, and the idea apparently caught on.

In the words of the good Doctor herself... That scene was incredimazable. (I'll post once I know for sure how Aldo will react. How would Nathan respond to another story offered in response--the story of the Tennessee Sibyl?)

This is going to be awesome. Which would make a better icon for Funtimes-- Or whatever you might have instead.

I've been wanting a Funtimes POV since I first started reading this roleplay. I am wholeheartedly in support of this.

I was reading about Batesian mimicry earlier, and Nathan genuinely kept popping into my head the whole time.

In addition to the pragmatic necessity of having someone help him down, Backtrack would do a lot to have some more powerful company on his trip. There's really no telling what kind of psychotic Epics might live around The Dalles, so he'd like a pair of moderately powerful Epics of his own as a form of protection. Plus, taking two young ladies to witness horrific Koschei murders from the past is just the sort of date Backtrack is becoming known for.

Uh... hmm... um... "Impact! Be a sweetie and help out your pal for a minute?" ^ my best guess at the moment. ^

Alright, fair enough. Yeah, Aldo's a rather pushy individual. And he's the worst kind of pushy--someone who will keep steering you towards his will with a firm hand but a charming smile plastered on his face the whole time. So... Backtrack's heading to The Dalles now, so you're set up for Koshei flashbacks when the time comes.

But since CorpseMaker isn't long for this world, clearly I should start grooming Lightwards to take up his badchull mantle. And that means frightening the staff. As we've seen before though, Lightwards gets a little more frightening the more insecure he's feeling. And since his argument with Funtimes left him feeling more powerless then he's felt in a very long time... well, anyone who doesn't have some form of protection from him should probably tread lightly around him for a while.

I sort of imagined that as a phrase any Epic in a position of power would use on a weaker specimen. Aww, GM. Joe gets to write badchull scenes with CorpseMaker! Let Lightwards traumatize the only Epic in the Museum that can't rip him apart.

Aldo began walking down the path with the young man, only to stop in his tracks. It felt rather like the end of his cape had been snagged on some sort of weight... Glancing around at it, he found that the end of his cape had become part of a heavy metal weight. Oh, she's good, he thought with a smile. In the corner of his eye he saw Funtimes briefly pantomime a pounding gesture to her boyfriend, making Aldo wonder whether he was about to find out how strong of a punching arm Traveler had. While the action would no doubt be educational in its own way, he was relieved to see the man take a few steps back and fix him with a glare. "All right, you've got me," Traveler began in a low voice. "I'm not an Epic." The bold vanilla man glanced at Doctor Funtimes a moment before continuing. "What do you want? And you'd better make sure it's good, because my girlfriend once made a precog get mauled by his own fedora, and I think she wants to try it again. So...what do you want from me?" At this Aldo gave a deep chuckle. "My my, the pair of you do make a smashing good team!" He touched the weight on his cape, shrinking it to a tenth of it's size and holding it in his hand. "All I want from you is a story, my good man, and I'm sure yours is a cracking good one." He reached into his pocket, exchanging the shrunken down weight for a tiny folded chair. He pulled it out with a flourish, inflating it to full size and unfolding it on the jungle grass. "And if you're still a little edgy around little old me," Aldo continued with a grandfatherly smile, "we can talk right here where these fine ladies can see the whole thing." The moment Phoenix had disappeared from view, another Epic took his place. Lightwards looked this new Epic up and down--this one he hadn't seen before. He wore mostly plain clothes, but his face sported a ridiculous pair of pink-tinted sunglasses. He had a hawk-like nose and long, greasy hair. He had a wide grin on his face as he looked at his new Emperor. "Welcome to the Empire," Lightwards said in what he hoped was a suitably warm manner. "You are the one called Backslash, I believe?" The man shook his head, still grinning. He took a step forward, bringing himself and Lightwards into a proximity the latter found uncomfortable. "Close," the man replied softly. "They call me Backtrack. And let me just say that it's a pleasure to finally meet you, Professor Cardinal." Lightwards took a step back irritably. "I'm glad you're pleased," he replied, "I--" He cut off with a wild realization. Before he'd consciously measured what he was doing, he had pulled a pistol from the nearest Warrior and pointed it into Backtrack's grinning face. Backtrack stopped grinning, looking suddenly alarmed. The Epic took a few steps backwards, only to bump into the particularly vicious raptor from before. The raptor was growling with an intensity to match Lightwards' glare. "I want you to explain to me," Lightwards said in a still voice, "how you came to know that name. And then I want you to explain to me why I shouldn't kill you for having it." Backtrack licked his lips nervously, glancing from Lightwards to the dinosaur. He quickly put his hands in the air and let out an anxious laugh. "Dude, dude," he started saying. "Chillax! So I know your name, big deal. I know lots of people's names!" The other Epics in the Museum seemed to notice the violent outburst, but with any luck wouldn't have heard the words. Lightwards raised his voice. "Come with me," he told the man sternly. He led the pair of them deeper into the jungle, out of sight and earshot for the other Epics. He made sure the raptor stayed put, but kept the pistol locked on Backtrack as they walked. The man seemed to have lost some of his composure, whimpering slightly as they went. "Alright," Lightwards said finally, stopping once they'd reached a safe distance away. "Now explain." Backtrack sniffed slightly before delving into a rant. "Dude, what is your deal?" he demanded hysterically. "I said your name for crying out loud! Then you stuck a gun in my face and sicked a rabid dino on me--did that dino look rabid? I think it looked rabid--" For the second time that day, Lightwards gave in to the temptation to punch someone. He rammed his fist into Backtrack's stomach, and then kicked his knee to drive him to the ground. "Be quiet," he snarled angrily, glaring at the whining Epic with contempt. The man hushed himself before pulling himself back to his feet. "I want you to calmly explain what you are and how you know my name," Lightwards growled. The man took a deep breath before straightening his pink glasses. "I'm an Epic," he said finally. "Congratulations," Lightwards replied dryly. "Now continue." "I'm called Backtrack," the man went on, regaining some degree of composure. "I believe we've established that already. Go on." Backtrack shook for a moment before offering the necromancer his hand. "Take it," he pleaded. "I'll show you what I can do." Lightwards glowered at him suspiciously for a moment before firmly gripping his wrist. At once the Museum seemed to change; instead of standing in the steaming jungle, the pair stood in a shadowy specter of the museum as it once was. Tiled floors and fossilized skeletons surrounded them, and the silhouettes of former occupants darted around them. "What is this?" Lightwards asked quietly. "It's what I do," Backtrack explained, trying to sound appeasing. "I see into the past. If I stand in a spot, I can see what's happened there before. When I look at a person, I can see where's he's been in his life. Where he was born. Where's he's traveled. Where he ate breakfast each morning." The shadowy history of the museum unfolded--more and more skeletons began to line the walls, and the shapes of Hotwire and her associates began to move about. There was a brief battle that seemed to fast-forward in Lightwards' eyes; he saw himself reanimating an elephant in the hall. He saw Nighthound murder the invisibility Epic. He saw Purple Phoenix make a covert entrance before attacking Hotwire. He saw Quickslide slam his past self into a wall and begin firing eleven bullets into his body. With a shudder Lightwards shook Backtrack's hand away from his and scowled. When the skin contact ended, they were standing in the jungle once more. "So you saw my past," Lightwards whispered angrily. "And saw what I used to be." "Not quite," Backtrack explained soothingly. "I just heard the name when you were talking to Möbius the first time--" Backtrack yelped as Lightwards immediately pressed the barrel of his pistol into his neck. "Dude, quit it with the gun-pointing!" Backtrack screeched helplessly, taking a few frenzied steps back. "This is why you don't have any friends, you know! You keep pointing guns at everybody--" "Shut up," Lightwards snapped savagely. "What do you know about Möbius?" "Nothing! Dude, I've never even spoken with the chick. I saw the two of you fighting along the border, and I was impressed by you!" Backtrack's tone was pleading. Lightwards kept the gun pointed at his face, but didn't yet open fire. "She killed you," continued Backtrack, drops of sweat on his face. "But you got back up. You just got back up, dusted off your trousers, and strolled into Oregon like a boss. It was awesome. So I decided to do some research. I traced your steps back to California to see how you two met, then I rushed back here to see what you'd do next!" "This is the worst attempt at flattery I have ever heard," Lightwards said harshly. "And you've yet to address my most important question. If you know enough about me to know my old name--and if you saw when I met Möbius, when my weakness was set off--then Why. Shouldn't. I. Kill you?" "Because I'm just so cool?" Backtrack pleaded hopefully. Lightwards made a motion to pull the pistol's trigger. "Because I can help you," Backtrack continued, panicking. "If I can find out so much about you, think of what I could find out about your enemies!" Lightwards lowered the pistol thoughtfully. "Can you learn the weakness of the Epic called Doctor Funtimes?" "Uh, no. Sorry. Teleporters kind of throw me off my game--" Lightwards raised the pistol again with a glare. "Wait, wait!" Backtrack yelled. "I can tell you some stuff, man. She got that boyfriend of hers from Newcago by the looks of it, and she's been spending her nights in Tillamook here lately." "Interesting," Lightwards growled. "But not lifesaving." "Uh, wait a minute!" Backtrack continued nervously. "Uh... what about those servants of hers? I can tell you about them--you could use them as leverage or something!" Lightwards narrowed his eyes, but lowered his pistol again. "Fine," he said quietly. "What can you tell me?" "Addresses," Backtrack said, obviously relieved. "The goth girl lives in town, I can give you her home address. She's probably got family you could hold hostage or something. The hippie chick lives way out west of here, I don't know the exact coordinates. But I could find them." "What about the hunter?" Lightwards demanded. The gun-toting man seemed to be the most aggressive--finding a way to neutralize him would be greatly helpful. "Easy," Backtrack replied, looking excited. "He comes from somewhere by The Dalles. I don't know if he has family or not, but I could go scout it out." "Send you to The Dalles?" Lightwards said, beginning to laugh. "You wouldn't come back. This is all ridiculous. I should kill you now." "I'd come back," assured Backtrack, a hint of indignation appearing in his tone. "I keep my promises. And even if I didn't, I'd know you could just track me down and kill me if I didn't come back. I'd just pop over to whatever hillbilly trailer park he comes from and come back with a report." Lightwards nodded thoughtfully. Finally, he tossed the man his notepad and a pen. "Write the goth's address there," he commanded. "I'll scout it out for myself. You go to The Dalles." Backtrack enthusiastically scrawled an address into the pad, then tossed it back. "There ya have it. Can... can I go now?" Lightwards read the address, then gave a curt nod. "You are dismissed," he told the man. "Be back by sunset, or I'll send someone after you." He waved pointedly with his pistol. "Come back, and you'll have proven yourself marginally useful. Try to run away, on the other hand... and I will destroy you. I won't leave so much as a drop of blood from your carcass, little Epic. If you wish to live, you will come back." Backtrack nodded before taking a few frightened steps back towards the Museum entrance. "Yes sir," he groveled. "Absolutely. I'm heading straight to The Dalles now..." With that, Backtrack turned around and hurried out of sight. Lightwards sighed, taking another look at the notepad, thinking dark thoughts about the coward in the pink sunglasses. I had better not regret this, little Epic.

Question that just occurred to me. If Upgrade uses his power on an inanimate object, the object becomes better-suited for carrying out its intended purpose. For instance, knives become sharper when he uses them. When he uses his power on an Epic, the strength of the Epic's powers is increased and inherent limitations are lifted. What happens if he uses his power on a regular person? Do they become stronger and faster within realistic human boundaries? Do they become closer to whatever personal ideal they strive for?

Timeport is a real go-getter! Am I on the case for another Aldo POV?

With this latest development, I foresee Ray and the Unicyclist becoming adopted parents to little Max.

Depends on how abusive he's feeling at the moment, I suppose. If he's bored and wants to get assigned to another task, then he should speak to Lightwards. (Lightwards would also waste no time in informing him about Traveler's distinct lack of Epic-ness.) If he's in the mood to intimidate a bunch of powerless people, then I could imagine him going over to creep out talk to the vanillas and the new Epics. (Thus making the momentum twins see Backtrack in a much better light by comparison. ) I personally prefer Matt Smith, as the Twelfth Doctor's writing thus far has been veering into darker territory than I'm comfortable with. But that's off-topic I suppose. It will definitely be interesting to see how the game changes with such a major element changed. Not to mention the fact that much of Portland might be in flames by the time the Empire-Thoughttown coalition succeeds in getting to CM himself.