Kobold King

What exactly would she be doing there? Has there been an alarm tripped, or would she be going there with the intent to help restock like usual?

"What Happened in Oregon? Ooh, it gets some hate but I'm actually a big fan. Edward is my favorite." --Brandon Sanderson

NOT AS EASY AS YOU THINK

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE

I opened a thread on a worldbuilding forum for people to talk about how the average person can make a difference in different people's worlds. I was hoping for people to talk about what kinds of charities are in their worlds, or whether there are soup kitchens, or otherwise what unique opportunities to help others exist in the world. Instead, a bunch of people hopped on the cynical bandwagon talking about how it's a meaningless question because no one can make a difference in the world and thus there's no point in talking about the small scale charities possible in the setting. Sigh. I think I'll just stick to the Shard from now on.

No idea who Kirito is, but for fairness sake could we get him an obsidian sword or something? I feel bad seeing him beaten mercilessly with his own sword.

Is it the whole point of your WIP? I think the idea of history marching along the same path, mirroring our world even with the minor changes of superpowers, is pretty cool in its own right. If you aren't having fun derailing history and inventing a brand new Earth I see no reason for you to have to. Your novel will be just as interesting if the Vietnam War was fought with pyrokinetics as it would be if it never happened at all.

*Cough.* A parody of Scissor Sisters' "I Can't Decide" about the hardships of making a timeline for your world. This really should be easy, right?

Previously on The Dalles: Part One: Pretty much, yeah. It's not a bad strategic move, given Arsenal can rebug the city with much more ease than Quicksilver could, but it's a very Arsenal-like move to make. Like Chicken said. The wound heals and the other person feels phantom pain.

"My name is Kris Kringle. For five years I was stranded at the North Pole with only one goal - to be jolly. Now I will fulfill my reindeer's dying wish - to use the list of names he left me and bring down those who are corrupting my holiday with commercialism. To do this, I must become someone else. I must become... something else."

* takes notes *

Patience, TwiLyght of the lack of sparkles. Patience.

It said she slammed the hilt into his neck. I was under the impression that she whacked him with the blunt end of the knife, which would hurt but wouldn't reflect.

Backtrack is commanded to do backup dancing but instead hides behind a tree stump. I genuinely laughed out loud at that.

Yee-haw.

New Dalles post up. Deathwish rises to a new level of awesturbing scumbaggery, and Arsenal brings a new variable to the table in the war against Quicksilver.

The bus sped along its path, the mist still writhing angrily at its top as what looked like the entire vehicle armada of The Dalles sped along behind it. It was an absurd sight, or at least it would have been if a bunch of panda ninjas hadn't trashed the town yesterday. In his infinite wisdom, Deathwish decided to hold off on the offensive until there was someone else to take a mist-walloping. Fortunately, that someone else was quickly showing up at the edge of his field of vision. Edgerunner, known also as "Emma Runes" when at her lamest, would have been hot even if didn't have the extra allure of being an Epic chick going for her. Nice pale skin, a tiny lithe body, and a head of curly black hair all made her one of The Dalles' most ogleable ladies, and to top it off she wore tight clothes that tended to cling to her while she flew. The only real downside to her was the lack of curves besides the knife handles strapped to her arms and legs, but that didn't stop Deathwish from smiling at the sight of her. Or leering, as some would claim. Today, though, the leer was wiped off his face at the sight of what was clinging to her. It was a guy. A clean-shaven guy, not very muscular but clearly possessed of the boyish good looks that Edgerunner's kind of girl swooned over. No doubt he was an Epic, too, one with some phenomenal power that would let him stop the bus and be the hero for the day. Deathwish hated him on general principle. Stopping the bus chase was important, but asserting himself as the alpha male was even more so. Giving a saintly sigh at the lengths he had to take just to stand his ground in this city, Deathwish ducked out of sight before the new arrivals could spot him, weaving in between city streets low to the ground as he moved towards them. The wind blasted his face and hair as he swiftly came up to a bird's level, now behind Emma and her new boyfriend as came over the rooftops. Grinning at the opportunity, Deathwish sped quickly at them from behind, focusing on Edgerunner's blue hoodie as he came rushing by, seizing a corner by one end and giving it a tug... As he hoped Edgerunner lurched in her flight, suddenly tumbling head-over-heels through the air. She and new guy friend gave identical cries of alarm as they fell, before Emma managed to lash them both to a near rooftop where they hit with a roll and a tumble. The crash wasn't enough to hurt either of them badly, but to the point, it was successful in dislodging the new interloper from the tight aerial hug. Deathwish counted it as a win. Grinning at the success, he gently swooped onto the rooftop and smiled sanctimoniously at the pair of groaning Epics. The male one seemed to have taken the least of the damage, slowly pulling himself to his feet near the very edge of the roof. Edgerunner had taken a harder hit, but she healed fast. She was laying flat and spread-eagled on her back, blinking away the impact as a patch of blue on her face slowly shrank away. "Sorry about that," Deathwish remarked casually, nudging the dude with his foot and forcing him to slow down and steady himself. "You know how hard it is to get someone's attention when they're flying, Edge. Hope I didn't hurt either of you." Edgerunner didn't get off her back quickly enough, and Deathwish swooped over to her. He levitated himself horizontally a scarce inch above her, almost lying on her. He brushed his hand over her flat body and up to her chin, smirking into her face as she realized who was on top of her. "Did I ever tell you," he crooned, "How sexy you look with a bruise under your eye?" The glowing monitor dominated the table, sprinkled with dots of many colors moving at high speed through the streets. Radios were arrayed all around it, giving constant updates on the situation and the placement of new blockades. Not that it mattered. The objective was hurtling around every obstacle like it had guidance from the outside, dodging out of every region on the map that the City Guard firmly controlled. It was chess, lightning-fast and played between an army and a bus. And the bus was coming out ahead. Arsenal gnashed his teeth together as he examined the monitor chessboard over and over, switching the view over to radio. The screen changed to show red hotspots all over the city, everywhere where radio signals were detected. Most were Arsenal's eyes and ears giving a feed on Dalles events--most were listed in City Guard documentation, while others were more... discreet. The odd ones out, however, Arsenal couldn't remember placing. Entire sectors of the map seem wired, hooked up a system he'd had no hand in placing. My eyes aren't the only ones keeping tabs on this city, Arsenal realized with grim clarity. Quicksilver organized his side of the board at the same time we did. The reveal was profound. It implied the impossible--the City Guard might not be the most well-put-together force in The Dalles after all. It implied the terrifying--the City Guard might not be the most well-put-together force in The Dalles after all. He barely heard radio announcements calling in Deathwish's clash with a mist Epic and Edgerunner's appropriation of an unprocessed captive as he stormed to a window, earning cringes from the rest of the staff as he blew past them. He glared out over the deceitfully tranquil cityscape, mind racing and blood pressure pounding. Quicksilver's wires would be hidden well. A full search of the city, even centered around the hotspots, likely wouldn't find them. They'd be everywhere, woven into the city's structure since the same time Arsenal placed his own network. Quicksilver hadn't arrived out of the blue like Deathwish or the Panda. He'd been in the city since day one. What wasn't he capable of? The answer struck Arsenal like lightning out of a clear sky. Quicksilver had acted slowly, carefully, never before acting openly before now. What wasn't the man capable of? Redoing all that long hard work. Frustration turned to dark excitement as Arsenal tapped into his power, reaching out his hands and forming machines out of nothing in the yard out the HQ window. A couple stories the lines of a launchpad were set, followed by the substance, followed by missiles pointing into the air... "Sir?" a technical officer asked in confusion. "Sir... what are those?" If the officer was alarmed by the weapons, the dry chuckle coming out of his commanding officer seemed to terrify him. "Sergeant," Arsenal asked slowly, furrowing his brow as the last touches on the missiles were made. "What do you know about CHAMP?" The officer seemed even more confused. "From... back in 2012, sir? I don't understand. I thought that didn't go anywhere." Arsenal finished the weapons and turned to face the officer with a flat smile. The smile of anticipation. The smile of a victory that was coming at the speed of sound. "Epics gave all the weapon projects a big push forward, sergeant. Get to the computers and man missile guidance. Before this war's done you'll be a world expert on CHAMP." Despite his reservations the officer rushed to obey, as did several officers whose duties lay in missile-guiding. Arsenal turned his head back towards the monitor screen that showcased Quicksilver's fantastic little system, but this time, he smiled upon looking at it. CHAMP. Counter-electronics High Power Microwave Advanced Missile Project. An EMP you could steer. Quicksilver's surveillance network didn't stand a chance. Check.

Oh, it's ludicrously simple. Here's a step-by-step guide. Have no life. See Step 1. Repeat.

Oh hey, the Dinosaur Game! I'm the best at it.

Light has been proven to exist in a vast spectrum, the majority of which is invisible to us. What light we can see we owe to three types of cone cell within our eyeballs which are sensitive to the specific part of the spectrum we know and love. All colors, from black to white to green to majenta are all seen using three different types of cone filtering these colors out of the light spectrum. The mantis shrimp, by comparison, has sixteen types of cone that experiments have shown to be reactive to a much vaster array of lights. It's like seeing your cat suddenly lift up his head with an intent expression on his face, while previously napping. The human ear isn't sophisticated enough to pick up whatever your cat was hearing, but you can tell from the knowledge that his ears are more sophisticated combined with his behavior that these sounds exist and that he is capable of hearing them. Bottom line: I agree, mantis shrimps are super cool.

Those two are members of the "Autumn's Body Fan Club." The Autumn Glass Fan Club is much more exclusive but has a much nicer member base.

I love Autumn Glass.

I don't get how he's holding a shotgun at all. He should be shaking like the Flash on caffeine.