Kobold King

It's a spoiler for unreleased episodes, leaked from episode synopses THAT I WAS TRYING TO AVOID BUT GOT EXPOSED TO ON THE INTERWEBZ A WEEK AGO. So no, don't open it. Doctor Who and My Little Pony are the only reasons I watch any TV these days.

I was not a fan of Season 8, but 9's been awesome so far. There hasn't been a single episode I've hated, unlike last season--heck, even Sleep No More had some redeeming qualities, and I was surprised by the nigh-universal odium being expressed about it on the Interwebz. So yeah. Watch Season 9, Twi!

You go ahead. We'll be here to talk about it when you're done.

You'll be pleased to know that the Epic slontze who killed your original character is still alive and well, so if you join soon you can still get there in time to exact personal revenge.

Eh. Can't blame a kobold for trying.

It's amazing how many pieces of insanity are equally applicable to both Funtimes and twentydeaths!Lightwards. There's a ship in that, somewhere.

If you had a genuine interest, we'd help you out with that. By this point we're very practiced in helping newcomers make their characters and join in the insanity.

You should join the Reckoners RPG. We have replies out the wazoo today.

I think holding a woman-only "Let's Kill Deathwish" party would be a great strike for feminism.

I had to do something. I'm still holding out hope that Autumn or Scribbler gets to kill him somehow.

Shiny Sparkle slowly pulled herself together, taking off her glasses and wiping them down. Her eyes underneath were red around the rims from her tears, but the eyes themselves were... bright. Abnormally colorful. Inhuman. Vondra felt his jaw harden at the reminder of what the woman was, and watched as she put the glasses back on and chuckled nervously. “Well, I didn’t intend anyone to see me like that but thanks for the consolation,” she said slowly. "Is there any chance you would just let me drown him in the ocean or something like that?” Vondra shook his head. "If you stay here long enough to outlast his loyalty, I might just give you the chance. As it is, he's more satisfying as a tool for crushing our enemies than he dead." He stared at the woman for a long, grim moment. He'd intended to have her sent to Reader first thing in the morning, but as she was, easily annoyed and pushed to violence, the last thing she needed was a meeting with the infuriating creature. Instead, he'd have to interrogate her the old fashioned way. "I am going to ask you a series of questions. I expect truthful answers to them--there is a divining Epic in our employ who will double-check your answers at a more opportune point." He took a deep breath, and then began. "Firstly: what is your real name?" Not far from city command in the center of The Dalles was the hotel. To the people of The Dalles it had been "the" hotel for quite some time now; it was clean, it had multiple stories, and the word "hotel" remained above its front door even when the brand name had been stripped off years ago. The clean spacious rooms had been requisitioned quite a while previously, and now were home to a number of high-ranking city officials with no property of their own. Armed forces officers, quartermasters, school teachers, and engineers who had wandered into the city were all treated with a room in payment for their services, and a friendly community had grown up between the inhabitants of neighboring rooms. On the top floor was a room locked from the outside and meticulously avoided by the hotel's usually hospitable inhabitants. The room was nice and spacious, but from its disconnection from the hotel's community coupled with its window being its only entrance, one might surmise it was the dwelling place of an individual who was both highly valued by the city and distrusted by those unfortunate enough to live nearby to him. According to the plaque on the door, it was "Room 115"; according to the sparse neighbors, it was simply "the slontze's room." Deathwish had been pressing for people to call it "The Hawk's Nest," but so far no one had taken him up on that proposal. The flying Epic flew in through the open window and skidded to his feet in the spacious lodging, shucking out of his clothes immediately. He'd definitely need a new pair of pants if he didn't want his unmentionables hanging out during flight, and besides which he liked to make a good impression on the Epics he killed. He slipped into a pair of tight jeans, fixed his pistols to it, and stripped off his jacket as he flew into the attached bathroom. It'd been a while since he'd used this trick, but it might come in handy. He worked quickly, whistling an old tune from the radio as he duct-taped a few razors from his expansive shaving kit to his chest. They were sharp, considerably sharper than the average razor, and he wrapped them tightly until he could feel the blade pressing into his chest through his thin white shirt. He put on his leather jacket over the duct-tape / razor armor, and as a last touch to his equipment, picked up one of the tough wooden swords he'd salvaged from the clean-up crews yesterday evening. The sword was light as plastic but sharp as steel--perfect for a flying Epic who had reason to believe he'd be going up against a magnetmancer, or whatever you called an Epic who controlled all things metal. His equipment taken care of, Deathwish pulled out the radio and called HQ. "Deathwish to the old man," he transmitted lazily. "Reporting for duty." There was a minute's pause before Arsenal's frustrated voice came over the line. "About time," he snapped. "We are pursuing a yellow school bus approaching the intersection between Freedom and Independence. Hostile Epics believed to be on board. Lethal force is authorized. Do you copy?" "What I'm copying is that you guys took the patriotic street names way too far," Deathwish yawned, flying out the window and hovering above the city. His eyes scanned the neighborhoods below, watching the cars and trucks whoosh around like angry ants. "I think I know where to go. Anything else I should know?" "Edgerunner has also been deployed. Do not--" "--grope her until I'm finished killing the bad guys," Deathwish finished. "Don't worry about me, I'm a perfect saint when there's work to do." Pinning his radio to his belt, Deathwish took off after the rushing trucks and helicopters, the glint of a yellow school bus slowly coming into view...

You're a coffee creamer that got printed with the wrong expiration date, so it tells you it's spoiled when it's actually perfectly fine and even at peak freshness.

I wouldn't think Impact would want to risk another fight with City Guard Epics, given she's still recovering from the last one. I thought she was steering clear of The Dalles now.

Only if there's a Coke involved. Deathwish is used to doing things himself, plus he'll be keen on going after Quicksilver's Epics, so a meeting between Hawk and Scribbler should probably wait until a more opportune time.

That was the plan, but I just realized that he could duct-tape shaving razors to himself under his jacket to get the same effect. So we only need to do their interaction if you think it would be beneficial for your character development plans. And thanks. Now I just have to see if I can re-enact Captain Hammer's introduction by having Deathwish land on top of the moving bus in the chase...

Deathwish was no stranger to the face a woman made when infuriated. A smile, directed at him... that was something he had a little less experience with. But somehow he doubted the stiff smile on the shiny Epic's face was a late attempt at seduction. Especially not when his keen eyes spotted a brief glint of metal in her palm as she made her way towards him. “So you think you can give me what I want?” the woman crooned, leaning over him and putting a hand on his leg. He was now 99% sure she was about to try to kill him, but he'd love to be wrong. “You know, if I don't have to deal with that prudish old man again, then some handiwork might actually be worth my time.” With a slightly more genuine smile, the woman's hand made a swift movement... ...and a sharp crack like a gunshot rang out, Deathwish's precious parts shredded into gore in an instant. On reflex he shoved the now-screaming woman to the ground and flew to the ceiling, painlessly dripping blood onto Vondra's carpet. The smug Epic was crying now, legs clenched together and her entire body heaving in agony. There didn't seem to be any of her own blood on her--she'd apparently had the precision to drive that metal shrapnel solely into parts that she didn't have. That precision had saved her a lot of blood, if not pain. Bloody, explosive castration. I can add that to the list of things I've survived, he thought smugly, smirking down at the agonized wench. Good to know... Without speaking--the chick probably couldn't hear him anyway over her spasm-inducing suffering--Deathwish took the heavy pistol off his belt and leveled it at her head. Her eyes were closed and she seemed lost in her private world of pain, making no move to destroy his gun or even move. You're not an ally or a bedfellow. You might as well be a reminder to Vondra how useful I am... His fingers closed on the trigger... ...and froze before he could fire. "Hawk, stand down." Frozen still in midair, Deathwish barely managed to make out Vondra and his chubby secretary standing in the doorway. They must have come in while he'd been soaking in the hottie's pain-sobs. He felt Redlight's grip on him disappear, and he holstered his gun back while floating gently to the ground. "Morning, commander. Just waiting for your assignment as I was ordered--" "Shut it." Vondra was abrupt, the look on his face coldly furious--though not, strangely, at Deathwish himself. The commander gestured towards the crying woman. "What have you done to Ms. Sparkle?" She actually called herself Sparkle? "I was just minding my own business," Deathwish replied with a smirk, "when she taught us both an informative lesson about what happens when you try to take the Hawk family jewels without jewels of your own. She's not strictly hurt, if that's what you're wondering, but she thinks she is." Vondra's stare was flat and odious, and made Deathwish de-levitate a foot by sheer intensity. "Our forces are in pursuit of a member of Quicksilver's gang," he said icily, handing him a radio. "Keep in touch with central command and join the pursuit. Do what you have to do." "Yes sir." Deathwish gave a sarcastic salute, then turned to open the window beside him. "And Hawk?" He paused before the window, peering over his shoulder at the angry commander. "If you antagonize another newcomer, I'll tell them how to take your family jewels without them growing back." Deathwish's teeth gritted, but he leapt out the window and soared into the city without a word in response. Deathwish had really done a number on Shiny Sparkle--Vondra couldn't help but feel sympathy for her, for her anti-Hawk sentiments as well as for the pain she so obviously felt. He stood patiently against a wall for a minute as the woman's tears ran dry, and she managed to sit upright and take stock of the room once more. Rhonda stood at the ready, though it was unlikely she could do anything to stop the Epic in the worst case scenario. "I see you took it upon yourself to solve our Deathwish problem," the commander said tiredly. "I give you fair points for trying, but if it was that easy someone would have done it by now." He rubbed his temple with one hand. "He's someone you'll have to deal with if you work here, so I wouldn't blame you if you teleported to the other side of the States and never looked back."

When try as you might, you can't imagine spending too much time on the 17th Shard. Though earning enough arbitrary votes to have the phrase "God Beyond" under your name is probably a good clue.

The necromancer whipped his head around, face a mixture of shock and anger. "What was that?" he demanded to no one in particular. Aldo straightened his top hat, fixing his face with a bemused look. "I have no idea, Emperor. What is it you thought you heard?" The face of Lightwards showed him to be slightly unsure of himself, but his angry determination was back in a flash. "It was like a voice. A voice out of thin air. It said something about making a joke on a 'thread', and then... then I saw a flash of random images. The face of a man in a ninja mask. A yellow man wearing sunglasses. A man seeming put out, his exuberance wasted." Ah. So the Emperor of Light has discovered the Fourth Wall. Poor chap. "Look into this light," Aldo offered sympathetically, holding up a small flashing device. "What are you talking about?" Lightwards snapped. "We must find this 'ScottLeft' person and extract all the information we can from him. He must be an Epic of great power, and--" The device flashed red light into Lightwards' face, and the necromancer seemed merely confused once more. Aldo cleared his throat. "I believe you were saying something about finding Backtrack, your majesty." Lightwards nodded, head still spinning. "Yes... I believe I was..." Another Fourth Wall crisis averted. Another Epic spared the travesty of knowing the truth of their existence. Aldo smiled to himself, shrunk the flashing memory device and placed it back in his front pocket, and went off in search of the panicky retrocog. It simply wouldn't do for the poor man to look back in time to before the forum had been created... again.

"It's not Taft! Though he is scary. Eighty years ago, th-there was a poster on that wall, and th-there was a sc-scary woman with her arm flexed looking at the viewer, a-and it said... it said..." "'We can do it?'" "HOW DID YOU KNOW?!?"

Fixed that for you. More seriously, the mere mental images of those are awesome.

Someone who needs a hug?