Kobold King

The phantom pain is really just a guess on my part. Also, it would be cool. My guess though is that if he can reflect pain onto non-existent body parts, then it wouldn't matter whether it's a limb or a botched castration. From a narrative standpoint, it'd be a good way of giving Shiny a dose of crippling pain and an informative lesson on Deathwish's PI without physically harming her at all. Downside: Deathwish gets to act smug. Upside: it could be foreshadowing for his eventual cause of death, in a sealed room full of sirens.

Regrettably, Shiny seems more a woman of extremes to me. She either takes insults and speeches completely in stride with a smile on her face, or she blows up the other person's head. No in-betweens.

I've thought about this before. His arms would grow back, and the person who did the amputating would feel phantom pain.

He has no sense of direction, so he'd just wind up flying into The Wastelands RP. Nobody in Australia would thank you.

Patience, Voidus. We're only on Page 20.

Deathwish post up! You can have Vondra walk in the door if you like, Edge. He should be getting to his office any minute now. Of course, if you want Shiny to blow Deathwish sky high, that's your own business.

The shiny chick gave Deathwish a pat on the cheek, her smile a picture of amused disdain. “I appreciate the regards given to my epic assets, trust me they deserve every good word said about them, but I’m sorry sweetie. It would be one thing if you were the virgin type but I only let the predator type take a turn if I think they are experienced enough to properly satisfy me. Better luck next time." Deathwish found himself smirking. So she was that type. An Epic broad who thought she was queen of the world. To be fair, most of them had the power to actually be queen of the world, or at least a good part of it. Abruptly, Deathwish threw an arm around the woman's waist, pulling her close and putting his mouth next to her ear. "If you're still alive," he breathed, "then you know we're not allowed to be satisfied in this city." He let go of her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, but took her by the chin while she tried to realign herself. With a gentleness he generally didn't give the weaker sex, he tilted her head to face out a small window overlooking the street below. "Outside The Dalles we get anything we want," he continued wistfully, gesturing vaguely towards the horizon. "Booze. Drugs. Any girl you like, or any guy if that's what you're into. Out there, we have the luxury of picking and choosing." He met her eyes. She looked about to speak, so he tilted her chin to keep her pretty mouth shut. "Like I said. You're still alive, so that means you know all that. You're still here, which means you want something you can't just take. And you're obediently waiting in line to see the commander, which means you're patient enough to play their games until you're ready to seize it. What I don't think you understand is just how long you'll be waiting and just how quick you'll have to be to grab it before everything goes to hell." She'd probably chop off his hand if he got any more grabby, and since he didn't want to dismember the pretty gal just yet Deathwish let go of her and flew breezily to the other end of the hall, where he sat upon a chair and folded his arms. "Which is why," he concluded with a smirk, "you really should consider whoring yourself out to old veterans. The guys--or rather, guy who knows this place well enough to fetch you what you want before Arsenal goes crazy and nukes everything. But then, that's none of my business."

You, Voidus, are an artist.

Precisely. Daleks being AIs is a common misconception. However, what if Daleks consider their casings to be parts of their body on a deep Spiritual and Cognitive level? They're born in them, bred for them, living in them from one point in their existence until the bitter end. If a Dalek's spiritweb is closely enough tied to its casing, does that make the casing Invested?

Here it is!

'Twas a joke, but yes, he knows there are bombs. The Coelophysis set one off a while ago, remember? I'd have to check to make sure, but I'm pretty sure he even knows that PP's the one who set them and it came up in a conversation.

At that point he'd just set off as many MoNA bombs as he could. The only winning move is not to play and all that.

The first frost is about to roll over us this year, but our wood-burning stove had its piping collapse and we can't start a fire in it for a while. We have a propane heater, but it's not as efficient. So tonight we'll all be huddling under thick layers of blankets under even thicker layers of blankets. Hopefully that'll keep us plenty toasty, but if it doesn't...

Well, assuming Odin's talking about real magic and not just ultra-advanced technology, it's pretty heavily Invested.

That was my thought with the Dalek, too. At least we know vibranium is classified as a metal. There's no telling what kind of freaky matter the shell of a Dalek is made of. Assuming they're both metal, though, I think a Coinshot could Push on either of them. Though I still don't see one coming out okay in a fight with either Cap or a Dalek.

When you spend way longer than you should wondering if a Coinshot could Push against a Dalek.

Edgedancer's said before that Lucentia would heal if her entire body was destroyed, so I'm going to guess she could take a little beheading now and then.

Shshshsh, can't you see I'm trying to make Mailliw underestimate her?

Yes, her ability to flee to the other end of the city at the first sign of losing will be a great ace in the sleeve for Team Lightwards.

Eeyup. Why?

The Pasta Knight accepts your supplication and wishes you heartfelt condolences on being hungry.

Stop right there. I am the Pasta Knight, defender of pasta's honor in all of its forms. Whether it is spaghetti or penne or lasagna or macaroni or linguini or ravioli or tortellini or any of the noble food's other shapes, I will be here to prevent its name from being blasphemed by the impure. It is come to my attention that the most venerable meal Macaroni & Cheese is being insulted on this thread. To this I must insist, no more! No more shall I tolerate this grievous slight against pasta. If you would dare criticize pasta on this thread, I dare you to meet the blade of the Pasta Knight in single combat! A fight to the death, until the water boils and red sauce flows! If ye villains truly feel so strongly against my most favored of foods, then prove thy zeal against my arms.

This is Big Sister. I love her--how could I not? She is ancient and kind and gentle. Once upon a billion years past, she was a species of gardeners. Peaceful creatures were they; they crisscrossed their landscape planting trees and flowers and hedges. When their planet was at its end, they merged their consciousnesses together to become a single entity, and within a body of metal flew into the cosmos to spread beauty. Wherever Big Sister travels she brings love. This is Little Sister. I love her--how could I not? She is old and zealous and feisty. Once upon a million years past, she was a species of hunters. Dangerous creature were they; they built hives from which they hunted and waged war against any creatures foolish enough to attack them. When their planet was at its end, they merged their consciousnesses together to become a single entity, and within a body of metal flew into the cosmos to carry on their fight. Wherever Little Sister travels she brings justice. I am Brother. The others love me--to which I ask, why? I am young and unpolished and insane. Once upon a thousand years past, I was a species of deranged maniacs. Discordant creatures were we; we enslaved and slaughtered each other for the crime of misquoting holy books. When our planet had reached an unnatural end, we merged our consciousnesses together to create a single entity, and within a body of metal we flew into the cosmos to carry our teachings. Wherever I travel now I bring chaos and the memory of bitter bloodshed. We are the Three. Three thinking starships, our minds the amalgamations of entire species. We are wanderers, alone in the universe with no one but each other to turn to. We have no gardens to nurture, righteous battles to wage, or crusades to embark upon. We have no purpose save the one we have set for ourselves. For we have found a planet--a planet of gardeners and warriors and zealots. Within them is everything we are and more. And when we first heard their transmissions, we rejoiced at having a mission to follow once more. Big Sister will nurture them, Little Sister will whip them into shape, and I will teach them the ideas that will save their species. Because their planet will come to an end too, and they will follow the same path as we. When they do, the Three will be waiting. When the time is right--and that time is coming soon--then the human race will take flight, and we shall be Four.