TwiLyghtSansSparkles

I've heard of Kenpo. My sensei spoke pretty highly of it, and he didn't speak highly of all styles. (He despised Ninjitsu. He thought it was a cowardly style teaching students to face opponents in ways that made the problem worse and built poor character.)

What style do you practice, Winter?

I'm surprised you're surprised that you're surprised. I'll be doubly surprised if any of that previous sentence makes any sense. (Both. It mostly emphasizes defensive moves. When we would spar with our fellow students, our sensei would always have us bow to each other, emphasizing that we weren't supposed to look at each other while we bowed as a sign of trust. It's a very ground-based style, with an additional emphasis on moves that allow you to escape an assailant.)

I have a brown belt in Shudokan, a style based on that practiced by the Samurai, but I had to quit when we moved and haven't been able to find another Shudokan dojo since then. #hipsterproblems

Liebrarianism was more lucrative.

*pitchman voice * Are you tired of leaving your house, only to realize you have no way to burn blood-soaked incense to your dark god? Then you need the POCKET ALTAR! The POCKET ALTAR fits right in the pocket of your overcoat so you can be stylish AND devout! There's room for the incense and a picture of your god so you can whisper sweet nothings to him all day long! The POCKET ALTAR! For when you just can't wait for the next cult ritual!

Their bodies were found, and the number of cast members exceeded seven. So no.

Now all he needs is a love interest so you can see how the founder of Singularianism responds to romance.

Financier's intro is up.

"Savior Zero, bless these two." The words were as long and drawn-out as the Financier could make them, as near to chanting as he could manage. Most ministers clipped those words, made them short and sweet before getting to the rest of the ceremony. The One Who Ate Nine expected short and sweet words with a longer ceremony, and the Financier was determined to throw him off. "Bless the bearer of your image, bless the one with the image of your Prophet." The groom, who cradled a watermelon, returned the Financier's glance with a smile. It seemed a tad forced, but at least he was smiling. His bride's smile was more genuine—but then again, the zucchini she carried was far lighter than a watermelon. The Financier took a candle from where the toilet used to be and lit it. "May their love catch like sparks to tinder." He raised the candle over his head. The woman let out a small gasp as the flame nearly brushed the dry wood, her groom releasing a sigh of relief as the Financier lowered the flame. Both smiled at him, their grins far more relaxed than they were. "May their burning love incinerate every seventh man, may every seventh child be destroyed." The bride cleared her throat. "We, er, don't plan on having that many children." "This is excellent." He chanted those words, although they weren't part of the ceremony. The One despised chanting. While wearing the Diamond Queen's form, the One had once threatened to murder him if he didn't cease his chanting at once. He had heeded her warning, but filed the information away for later. "A seventh son may bring much devastation to the land." "Understood." The groom shifted the watermelon's weight. "It'll be just the two of us for a while, I promise." Two. Only two, two who understood the dangers and snares posed by the One. Two who hadn't dropped their sacred images throughout the entire ceremony. Two who had not once complained of a wedding held in the most sacred place in Astoria. Two who had never asked why it didn't smell in there, who simply had faith that the Financier would lead their marriage toward the path of righteousness. Beaming, the Financier set the candle down and, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, gave them the highest blessing he knew. "May your life as two lead you to a conclusion of Zero. May Our Savior make you like himself." The couple traded puzzled glances. "Do…do you mean," the bride began, "that you want us to die and for no one to ever find our bodies?" He beamed again. "Yes! Exactly! There is no better conclusion to a life lived beneath Savior Zero." "Right. Um, thanks. Great…great wedding."

Thanks everyone.

He really only makes distinctions when he feels like it.

Huh. This explains a certain portion of Funtimes' Emotionally Scarring Backstory : "When I was in Vancouver, Super Hotman said my turtle ran away. But I knew he was lying. TURTLES CAN'T RUN!" (uncontrollable sobbing)

Nope. Looks like it's up to you.

I sense at least one awkward silence in his future.

And Abraham Lincoln riding on a grizzly bear! There need to be more stories like this.

Looks like there's only one thing to do. Like my sister, you must approach the aliens in the nearest urgent care clinic and plead with them to give you their strange weaponry. Their arsenal (which they call a pharmacy) will allow you to quash the rebellion and reinstate harmonious monarchical rule. It's the only way.

If you can give me some time to get his intro written, he could interrupt the Financier as he finishes officiating a wedding.

I'm sure he won't.

Ooohhhhh, I feel for you. When you start to recover, stay away from spicy things for a few days, lest you make those nearby worry that you'll literally cough up a lung. And invest in some cough drops with a flavor you happen to like. Don't get the gross ones, no matter how well your parents claim they work. You'll be eating them like candy, so get some that taste like candy.

Yeah, probably just a camera and her parents' address. Too bad they've since fled Cottage Grove without their daughter's knowledge.

Was Reader going to go for the newcomers mostly, or did you want some tidbits on Autumn, too?

Maybe the other complicated organs--brain, eyes--interfere with Freq's powers?

Skin and muscle are pretty complex, though. Could he reach through those to get to bones?