TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Mean Girls is one of those movies that blends well with almost any other story—from Farily OddParents to Steelheart.

Go on….. His aversion to any sort of affection would certainly make a relationship difficult. I envision him using one or more of the following lines on a love interest: "Darling, how I love to gaze at you in the moonlight. Because…your face is pretty, but I don't want a big ​blast of it all at once." "I think it's too soon to hold hands. Pinkies. Let's hold pinkies." "NO HUGS! LEAVE ROOM FOR THE WARRIORS!" Not really. She might have very early on, but he didn't become enraged enough at her kissing Nathan in the middle of the street or on the merry-go-round for her to really suspect it's his weakness. She does, however, know that it bothers him, and thus kisses Nathan at every opportunity. (She also does this because she's very affectionate and enjoys kissing, but driving Lightwards up a wall is an added bonus. )

How fast can we get Lightwards to the twenty-death mark? Oh, poo. And I had such an awesome date in mind for them, too. (Actually, that's one couple that, while it might work, I don't want it to. I like them better as frenemies suffering through Teeth Clenched Teamwork. Besides, she has a boyfriend, who was chosen for a reason beyond "His hair is the color of pumpkin pie and pumpkin pie is delicious also Daddy used to call me his widdle punkin and…." )

Will he slide into the room serenaded by a chorus of pterodactyls he somehow taught to sing "Dino-Epic--he's dy-no-mite!"?

Streetwise: Hey, Murphy, did you know there's an entire skyscraper downtown that's perfectly fine? *beat* Murphy, I know what we're gonna do today!

"Remy the Springfield? Don't you know it's rude to interrupt your nemesis' evil scheme while he's telling an Emotionally Scarring Backstory™?" *Remington makes a chattering noise* "What? What is that supposed to mean? Is that some sort of—" *Remington cuts him off with a bullet to the chest*

(Long enough to plunge everyone into their Emotionally Scarring Backstories™? )

Sounds good. Remington is already in an Epic-killing mood, so learning about yet another mistake on Lightwards' part will only give him ideas. That would work, although what reason would Black Fist have to contact the Empire? (Note to self: be very careful not to press H instead of T when typing Black Fist. That is not a badchull name for a rebellion.) Maybe to get some of the vanillas there to rebel, spread the word against Lightwards, that sort of thing? (That would be scary and kind of awesome, and a great catalyst for more inter-faction warfare, especially once CorpseMaker is gone. Let's make sure he never meets Quota, though. )

What can I say? We Oregon RP'ers enjoy death threats almost as much as we enjoy a good bit of shipping.

I don't know about Max, but I was planning to have it come out in one of Nathan and Remington's conversations that Nathan told Alice to think, that she did, and when Remington learns that she wandered off (which, depending on how things go, may be before or after he learns about Alice thinking) he'll start seeking her out to see if she might hold a key to bringing down Lightwards. This might happen after Max runs into her, or it might happen before, depending on how everything pans out. But if you wanted to accelerate their meeting, you could have Alice wander near the Empire during the beard-a-palooza, at which point Nathan recognizes her and points her out. Although that would be dangerous for a number of reasons.

Koschei was an Epic…. And now he's dead. Yes, Lightwards should be more terrified of Remington Springfield. He should sleep with one eye open, gripping his pillow tight.

Lightwards punching Nathan. I'll edit to clear that up. And thanks!

Koschei. That was the only name, the only word, the only thing on Remington's mind. He'd suspected it for a while. Believed it from the moment he saw a kind old man slashed to ribbons on a merry-go-round. But now, with Traveler still getting his wind back and Funtimes missing her smile, he knew. Lightwards was just like Koschei. It wasn't a punch to the stomach that told him that. From the way he pulled himself to his feet, the way he looked at Lightwards without a trace of anger, Remington suspected Traveler had been punched by Epics so often he'd stopped noticing. Stopped registering it as assault. Stopped thinking he deserved better. No, Traveler would recover from a punch, and that was hardly the worst thing Lightwards could do to him. But it was the way that necromancer looked at him, his eyes narrowed and lit from within like one of his raptors', the cold smile he turned on the woman who had just threatened every one of his lives, that gave it away. Lightwards, the self-proclaimed Victor over Death, was cut from the same cloth as Koschei the Deathless. The same Epic who had stolen his wife and parents and siblings, who would shoot an infant without a hint of remorse. Who had fancied himself Oregon's Steelheart. "We're friends, Doctor Funtimes. We made a pact after all, back at the Sadry residence: we will together reshape the world in our image." Sadry? Remington wanted to tackle him, pin him to the jungle floor by the throat until he confessed his sins against his in-laws and paid for them in full. Whatever Lightwards had done at their home, he most certainly had not left them alive. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. "I won't touch any of your p--ah, friends, so long as we fight on the same side." He clung to that anger. Imagined venting it on that fool of an Epic. It kept him from wondering how many times Tom and Mary had died. Another Warrior bumped into Lightwards, offering him a pair of sneakers. To his mild dismay, Funtimes did not turn them to snakes. Tom. Mary. How many times had they been shot or ripped to pieces? How long had their eyes been filled with the same blank subservience as the man who offered his murderer a pair of clean shoes? Lightwards pulled them on, still glaring, stamped into them, and turned to go with a determined air. "Let us head back to our guests," he called over his shoulder. "It's not polite to keep them waiting while we... settle our differences." Funtimes did not follow immediately. She marched over to Remington and Traveler, tipped the latter's chin, and kissed him on the mouth. Giving a pointed glance to Remington's black eye, she addressed him next. "What did you find out when he asked you to teach him to shoot?" "Same thing I reckon that fool Lightwards found out now." She smiled, took both their arms, and teleported them to where Sam and Revolution waited beside the Unicyclist. "He's hurt," she told them. "I'm fine, Doctor." Funtimes ignored his protest as she waved a hand over a few scattered rocks. An assortment of grenades and small bombs appeared. "If Lightwards tries anything, you kill him. Okay?" ​"Doctor—sweetie. I'm fine. Really." She scowled at him. "He hit you. Lightwards hit you." ​"And I'm still standing. I—" "He's not allowed to hit you. Any of you." The argument over, she turned on her heel and marched back toward Sightline and Voidgaze. Remington followed. "Don't mind if I tag along?" She stopped in her tracks and pulled him behind a tree, out of Lightwards' sight, her dark eyes searching his. From the glint, he figured she liked what she found. "You knew the Sadrys," she whispered. The name brought another rush of fury. "My in-laws." "He killed them." "Figured as much." With a wave of her hand, a rock became another box of ammunition. Remington added it to the bullets he already carried. She knew his hatred and wanted him armed to the moment he acted on it. There was so much he wanted to ask her in that moment, but they had a meeting with two strange Epics and an impatient necromancer. An impatient necromancer who, like Koschei, would not hesitate to kill. Even if he had no reason. Even if he had every reason not to. So he adjusted the shoulder strap on his 30-06, gave her a curt nod, and followed her to the meeting. Lightwards was just like Koschei. He had power. He had a way to cheat death. And he had the means to make people his slaves. But he had something else, something Koschei had never found. An Epic nemesis.

"Hang on, Mister Noodly One! I'm still turning Oklahoma into ice cream! Sprinkles aren't any fun without ice cream."

You want badchull? You'll get badchull. Let's just say that if Nathan tries to calm her down, Remington will do the exact opposite of that. I caught that and liked it, honestly. I too subscribe to that theory, and if it turns out to be wrong…well, she already thinks Calamity is the Flying Spaghetti Monster, so it's not too much of a leap to say that she thinks it speaks to her, too.

He's a much better Epic than Quota. Now….wait for Edge and Joe, or quick post for Remington? I'll go with Remington. Have him tag along and glare at Lightwards while Nathan stays behind. She needs a sane narrator, after all, so I'll take the scarier of the two.

Your days are numbered, Quota. You could say you have a….quota. ….that could be pretty cool. I hadn't thought of that before, but now I want to see one. Voidus? Any thoughts?

I read the first Mistborn book and I'm making my way through the second. I did base his powers on Soothing. He's a creepy, sadistic, morally bankrupt Soother. I do too. Right! Chimera's decent. Edit: QUOTA! Y U NO LET ME UPVOTE MAILLIW'S POST? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU??????

Thanks! Which is why she wouldn't try that same move on Nighthound. Lightwards is wrapped around her finger and she knows it, but Nighthound is for Nighthound and she knows that too. If he tried to have her killed, she'd teleport a safe distance away and enter defensive mode. There are a dozen different ways she can think to kill him, and since he can resurrect, she'd try them all. With great difficulty and many annoying autocorrect moments. ("No, phone, I wanted to have Remington call Lightwards an upstart, not tell him to upchuck!")

"Slontze" is the mildest term you can use right about now. True, true. Although there will at least be Band-aids and Sausage McMuffins around when the devastation is complete.

O.o RUN FOR YOUR AFTERLIVES!!!!!!! Agreed. I thoroughly enjoyed writing that post, truth be told. He might not be the most powerful Epic in this RP, but he's certainly one of the worst. It was fun having her call him out on it. It really shows what a Crapsack World they live in when threatening an ally is the decent thing to do. Flashpoint, Strongsteel, and Panacea aren't too bad.

Aw, thanks. I wonder how Lightwards would feel, to learn his own writer was rooting for the woman who stuck him in a tar pit and threatened to murder him repeatedly?

Why do I feel like something's missing…. Aha! It needed the Air Quotes of Accuracy.

Nothing about Lightwards suggested he would take the news well. From what blessed little he knew of the man, Nathan could tell that he could not expect a genuine smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder. He smiled, certainly. But there was nothing friendly about it. "Well," he hissed, like the raptors that joined him. "You're not an Epic. You're a pet, like those idiots your mistress pulled out of the crowd yesterday. A pet with a death wish." Nathan said nothing. Epic tempers were like hurricanes, and as long as Funtimes was there, he would remain in the eye. He could watch the fury swirl around him, see the rain hammer against the ground, and not be swept away. He had Funtimes. Lightwards wouldn't dare touch him so long as Funtimes was there. He turned that icy grin on her. "Since I so value your honesty, I won't kill this little imbecile. But under the circumstances, I hope you'll excuse me if I take a small liberty..." Lightwards' fist struck his stomach, driving the wind from his lungs and sending him back against a tree. Pain shot through his skull as it struck, shaking the leaves slightly. "I'll keep your little secret, Doctor. So long as you fight on my side, consider your pets safe." Nathan leaned against the bark, using it to hold himself up, he couldn't collapse, not now, he couldn't show weakness— A strong arm looped through his, and Remington Springfield helped him stay upright. "And Doctor--if you ever grow bored with your little toy and feel like giving him away, do come to me first? It'd be such a shame to let such a brave little body go to waste." Nathan drew air in small sips through the pain—and saw Lightwards frozen where he was. Something black and shiny covered his feet where his shoes had been. Doctor Funtimes walked toward him slowly, her smile gone and a scowl in its place. "You like dead things, so I thought you'd like being in a tar pit. Like the dead things they brought here for you to find. And it's not just your shoes—I got the dirt, too." She circled him, her lips pursed in displeasure. Nathan tried to stand, stumbled, and leaned on Remington for support. "You want me to put it back, and I'll put it back when I want to. Right now, I want you to listen to me." "She don't usually talk like this, does she?" Remington whispered. Nathan shook his head. Not even when she had covered Lightwards in gasoline had she sounded so…lucid. So deliberate. So intent on using simple words that she made each and every one of them a threat. She stood on tiptoe, grabbed Lightwards' collar, and tugged him down until his face was level with hers. "I. Kissed. Him. Kissing does not mean pet. Kissing means boyfriend. If you hurt my boyfriend, you might as well find your weakness and shoot yourself, because I will make every death so awful you'll wish the Great Noodly One picked someone else instead of you. Capice?" Doctor Funtimes shook him for good measure, her nose inches from his, and pointed to Sam, the Unicyclist, and Revolution, casting a pointed glance at Remington. "And them? They are not pets. They are friends. Friends are not for hurting, either. If you do, you will die so many times you'll forget you were ever alive." She released his collar, shoving him backward at the same moment she re-transformed the tar. A barefoot Lightwards fell to the floor, and the same sinister smile she'd worn during the gasoline incident spread across her face. "I don't hurt my friends, Lightwards. I give them things. Good things. This museum is a good thing. This jungle is a good thing. I like to give good things….to my friends." Funtimes' smile widened, and she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to think about it: are. you. my. friend?" ----------------------------------------- "You now have given me no reason to keep you alive." He resumed his seat in the mech. "So how about you stop what you are doing, or I'll turn you into a smear of dust? And if you want to find out what Corpsemaker did, why don't you try this on him." His smirk was forced. Quota knew not from the smirk itself, but from the rush of anger blending with his fear. Quota's smirk, on the other hand, was real. He didn't fancy being murdered by a mech, but feeling hope crumble to dust always put a smile on his face. "You want to impress him, don't you? So, keep me alive and do it, or kill me and let him find out on his own. See how happy that makes him."

Quota maintains his tyrannical grip on this forum. (Enjoy your time now, O Quota, for it shall not last! ) Also, um…. ….. How will Lightwards respond to having his loafers turned to tar pits? And that phone turned into a weight? And Funtimes wearing that same grin when she threatened to light him on fire? Because...