I think I am here.

But why a slowpoke with that Eldritch Abomination crab thing on it? It's a very stylish moustache.

Hey! So I was looking through the 'origin of your username' thread and I saw how usernames were a sign of someone's uniqueness on the Shard. Then I realised profile pictures were too, and so I created this thread. Why do you have your certain profile picture? Where did it originate from? Personally, it started for me when I wanted to have a cool profile picture on the Shard, and I wanted it to match perfectly with the circular frame. So I searched up black holes, since I thought they would be interesting, but the majority of pictures I could find for some reason didn't work when I tried to make them my profile picture. And then I came across what is my profile picture now, I don't know what it was, or how it was related to a black hole, but it seemed to have the perfect amount of simplicity and coolness for me, so I tried to make it my profile picture and it worked! What's the origin of your profile picture?

I... Honestly don't know. I remember when I was first registering my username on the Shard, and I remember trying to cycle through my mind and find a good username. In short, I was overthinking it. I managed to set myself a stupid existential crisis for a name, partly because I didn't know what else to put in the username box, partly because I wasn't sure if I'd stay around for long on the Shard, which I did, thankfully. Anyway, that name eventually got shortened to 'ITIAH' by Leyrann because writing 'I think I am here.' each time you wanted to mention me took a while. From there, 'ITIAH' became 'Itiah', and now I go by Itiah, despite my original username still reminding me of that stupid time where I overthought usernames. Anyway, I wouldn't have it changed.

The one I got sent had slightly different wording. It said: "One does not simply assassinate Voidus". So still technically original I guess? Your other memes are gold though.

As much has Caer hate to admit it, Voidus was right. This wasn't just arriving at someone's house and asking to go inside. This was asking to fiddle with one of the most powerful parts of the universe. Caer needed more than words and promises to ensure he wouldn't (accidentally or intentionally) make the war worse. "I have... these." He said, bringing out 3 zincminds. He'd used one up looking in Devaan's soul. "I can see the future, but I can't comprehend it. These boost my mind so I can actually perceive the information I get instead of going mad, or worse." He put two in his pocket and held the last one in front of him and Voidus. "If I'm correct, I'll only need two of these big ones for the Worldspike, which leaves with this small one." Caer stepped forward. "And if you really need proof I can control it, then, well," he hesitated. "Then I can look into your soul with this zincmind. That could work, right? And then when I look, I'll see everything about you, things only you know, so when I say them, you'll know that what I do can be controlled." He hoped a physical demonstration of his abilities would be enough for Voidus. "What do you think?"

I hence bring up this quote for the third time: "If Voidus was here there is no reason that anyone who tried to attack him wouldn't be instantly immolated, frozen, have their soul removed and then crushed underneath a sentient Kredik Shaw that he just Awakened.“ - Voidus Yeah nah, not in the getting-annihilated mood today .

I think you’d benefit from this resource.

I actually got this one sent to me when I said I wanted my RP character to assassinate. Naive times...

Caer waited a couple moments for a response. Nothing. Suddenly, a man appeared beside Caer, a man who’s very presence scared the daylights out of Caer. He’d never been this close to a god. Or maybe he had, and he just hadn’t remembered it. “Look,” Caer said, walking beside Voidus. “I can see into the future. I can see what happens next, kind of like atium, but on a larger scale. But I need something to anchor off of. Another spirit.” He looked towards the Workspike again, and stopped walking. “The Worldspike is probably the most Invested thing in the Alleyverse, Voidus. It probably has aons of information in it, but no one can access it. No one but me. “This war is going to destroy the Alleyverse if we don’t take action. Voidus, the only way we’ll know a way to beat this war is by letting me touch the worldspike” Caer winced, half-expecting Voidus to kill him for having such a stupid thought, but no. Voidus was eating a cookie instead. “All I need is a moment. A second. And...” he hesitated. Was he ready? “And I’ll donate my body to the DA too, when I die. That would be good, right? I may very well be the only man ever to have Spirtual and Cognite sight. So if you allow me a second with the spike, you can experiment on me after death.” He paused, trying to gauge Voidus’ reaction. He’d hoped bringing up experimenting would increase the god’s interest in a deal.

Caer ran, tapping more and more of his steel. The thing was, if you stored up enough, Feruchemy had no upper limit. You were as fast as you slowed yourself. And Caer was fast. He raced past crusades and monsters, past a man fighting a tentacled thing and past a listener talking about an "alleystorm", Caer headed straight for the world-spike. When he'd been researching on who he was, he'd come across info on the colossus. Connected to the entire Alleyverse, and probably the most Invested thing in it, the Worldspike was a sight to behold. And Caer knew that if there was ever an answer to this war, it lay inside it. He should have seen it sooner. But he didn't. When Caer looked into the Spiritual Realm, he saw fleeting images of random things, except when he'd looked at Typhoon and Devaan. He had been touching the people respectively at the time, and through touch, Caer had been able to isolate his Spiritual Sight to everything Connected to them. But the Wolrdspike was connected to everything. It made more and more sense as he ran further through the alleys. His Spiritual Sight needed something to anchor off of, using it casually wouldn't work, he needed an actual sprit to use it on. Typhoon, Devaan, and now the Worldspike. It would be like a treasure trove of information, and Caer could use that to find a solution to the war, one where lives weren't needlessly wasted. And he would be the only man who could see it, since he was the only person to have the body of try man but the sight of a Shard. He approached the Worldspike, a huge Aonic shield preventing him from going any further. This was it. He knew he couldn't fight is way in, so he tried to ask politely. "Voidus!" He shouted, hoping his relationship with the god's rock would be able to spare him a few seconds of chat. "Can we talk for a second?"

I believe so. Nice job picking up on that.

Devaan slammed against the opposite wall, but instead of denying himself, the wall was the thing that broke. Caer tried to rush open and help but Devaan stood up, unscathed. Was that Aons carved into his body? As Devaan continued pummeling the beast. Caer came in every now and then to swipe his Shardblades, duel wielding Sethramir and Veo. At last, he swung both of his swords and the highly damaged shard helmet, trying to get it to crack. It cracked, and the exposed Harmonium allomancy had been enough to get it down for now. Devaan had pretty much destroyed all other parts of it pretty much, which is saying a lot since the monster was wearing Shardplate and Devaan was fighting with his bare hands. A lady rushed over to where Caer was, exclaiming that she could've strangled the monster, but Caer's mind was more focused on the monster. Caer didn’t know where they’d been coming from, but one thing was for certain: If there really was a monster outbreak, then the whole alleyverse would need to team up, regardless of alignment. Unity. Caer tapped steel, leaving Devaan and the other lady in his wake. He had an idea.

Sign me up! I’ll be Itiah VI, a man with a book and a mission.

OH SNAP Both of these are so good.

Caer stared at the monster in horror. It looked like a exploding ball of darkness trapped in shardplate. This was what the crusader had hid Caer from. It looked deadlier up close. It let out a feral growl, and Devaan charged, attacking the monster. He'd told Caer to attack too, but right now he could see and even bigger problem. You need to stop comparing who you are to who you were. Because while Devaan was taking care of the beast, smaller soldiers, resurrected from their beating from Solace, advanced, slowly, trying not to slip on the frictionless ground. They were heading straight for Devaan, who was preoccupied with the big one, and Solace, who seemed tired for the time being. As one tried to pounce on Devaan when he wasn't looking, Caer tapped speed and summoned Sethramir, ramming it in the creatures chest. The sword went straight through. You don't have to let yourself be tied up. Cae let loose. While Devaan never ceased attacking the shardbearer, Caer took care of the thirty or so smaller monster crusaders. They were easier to fight, having less combat experience, but storms were they resilient, always being pushed back but never dying. They'd almost gotten Caer when he remembered something about Sethramir. Something important. Devaan had said that it had a harmonium core. And that meant... The next time Rashan took a swing at one of the crusaders, he burned chromium, and felt tech power Dorian from him and into the sword, and soon into one of the crusaders, leeching them of whatever evil investiture made them up. Leeching was the answer! Caer continued, wiping through the ranks of the undead with his leeching, using Sethramir's harmonium to expand his reach. When all was done he turned and charged at the shardbearer demon. You're your own person, Rashan Caer.

Caer and the friend Devaan zoomed through the streets as blurs, twisting and turning through the alleys. "So, we duelled once, right?" Surprisingly, despite Devaan being his friend, he hadn't spoken much with him. "Yes. I won, though you were one feisty steelrunner." The man chuckled to himself, apparently reminiscing. "I'm sure I was." But he wasn't. Not now. He was different. But if anyone could tell him about himself, it was Devaan. "Look, Devaan, I know we're fight this war, but I can't." He started. "I just can't! I'm nothing but a fraction of what I was before. Everyone says I was great and all, but I'm not that person. I'm myself, and I went full out just to kill four crusaders, who I realise now we're just fighting for their mission!" "Rashan." But Caer didn't listen. "Don't you get it? There are no bad guys. You heard the lady making that speech before, we all used to be friends! And now we're fighting? I'm not the man I was, Devaan, and even if I was, I would be fighting a null war! We're destroying ourselves through this war, and I can't even remember the time we were all friends!" "Rashan!" Devaan stopped in his tracks, and Rashan followed suit. "You need to stop comparing yourself to who you were before. Sure, you may not remember your previous fights, but you can see the future! Sure, you don't know what side you're on, but you have friends to guide you! Sure, you may not have the best fighting skills since death, but you have three storming shardblades! You don't have to let yourself be tied up by the ideal others remember but you forgot, people arena tangly developing, never the same. You're your own person, Rashan Caer." The words hit hard, especially coming from a person who had been one of Caer's own friends. Taking out a zincmind, Caer tried to concentrate, and holding back his fear, tried to see into Devaan's soul. He was a good man. Caer could make that out. He could see himself, too, from Devaan's perspective. First as an enemy, then a friend. All this time, Caer had never looked into his soul, but now that he did, he saw the truth. Devaan wasn't lying. He'd never been. "But.." He protested quietly. "What of the war? We're all good people, or at least most of us are. Why are we killing each other.?" He felt like a lamb caught up in something far bigger than him. "That's a good question." And then Devaan tapped steel, running ahead without a real answer, but Caer got the message he was trying to convey. A question that big, and Caer would have to find out the answers for himself. He needed to. Tapping steel, he caught up with Devaan, who was next to Solace, asking him if he needed help.

Caer was on street own moment, he was pushed into an alleyway another, watching a horror move past. He squinted his eyes at his saviour. He was wearing crusader armour! But he’d saved Caer, so... what did that mean? Storms. He hated not knowing good and bad. First he thought TUBA was the enemy, and then the Ghostbloods, before realising that they both were teamed up against the Black Crusade. But this... man. He’d proved not all crusaders were bad. Why were they were even having this war. “You’re... an ally?” He carefully asked the crusader, completely unknowing he was talking to their leader. He didn’t seem right in the head, but then again, no one was around here. Caer especially.

Caer heard Devaan talk to Mace, but no idea what he meant. Did Mace have something to tell him? Shaking his head of the thought, Caer tapped steel and sent himself speeding out of the defensive perimeter of Mace's camp. There was people to save, and while Caer didn't know who's side eh was on, he knew he was on the people's. He saw victims easily. Their cognitive aspects lit up, flailing about, like arms waving for help. He was getting better at distinguishing emotions with his cognitive sight. He'd never gone beyond mere glancing just yet, he didn't want the same thing that happened with his spiritual sight to repeat. Spiritual sight. Caer looked down, noticing the small zinc medallions in his palm. With them, he could peer into the future without permanently damaging his mind. He'd heard of a similar power from Devaan, atium. It allowed one to see into the future, but enhanced their mind too. And whisk Caer could see further into the future, he no enhanced mind. So he needed the zinc. He rounded a corner, spotting four crusaders hold a family at swordpoint. Caer held out his hand, summoning Veo as a scyth, and swiped one of the crusaders dead before another lunged at him, shardblade appearing in his hands, hitting and locking onto Caer. He barley had time to dodge before another of the crusaders raised a hand and pushed on Caer way more than he should have, sending Caer flying into a wall. What kind of super coinshot was he? Getting up, Caer didn't get far before he was held at swordpoint himself. The shardweilder smiled to himself. Caer was caught. Or was he? A simple flick of the wrist, and Caer grabbed the flat edge of the shardblade and burned chromium, turning it back into mist. The man, now holding thin air, couldn't recover another 10 heartbeats before Caer sent Veo into him, swinging around and summoning Sethramir before sending it into the heart of the coinshot. Just one left. Caer eyed him, but the man only stepped back, sending Caer a flurry of emotions, sending him to his knees. Guilt, hurt, sadness, tragedy, the man made Caer feel all of it. Caer had felt it all before, he knew that, he just couldn't remember when. Standing up, Caer tried to get a good look of the man, but his tears were blocking his vision. Storms, what type of soother or rioter could evoke such emotion? Tapping steel, Caer pounced at the man, but he dodged, drawing some kind of symbol air. Caer only barley ducked before a wave of energy shot out of the symbol, lighting the building on fire. And so it continued, the man keeping on drawing magic symbols while blasting Caer with emotions. Fortunately, when the man brought up a vial of metals to refill himself, that was when he was most vulnerable, as he want giving Caer emotions nor was he drawing symbols. Caer took full advantage of that, slide tackling him and ending his life with a quick swipe from Veo as a dagger. Storms. He'd expected battling crusaders to be easy, like killing henchmen. But they were all powerful in their own way, each a mixture of magic systems. It had taken Caer a lot just to kill four! But, maybe he was just getting rusty. After all, he didn't remember how his fighting went before his amnesia. Shrugging of the pain with a wince, Caer went to look for more crusaders.

Caer looked towards the horizon, and didn’t see the short man creep up on him. He said that he was here to protect Caer, and Caer could also see the other man, Typhoon, hiding invizable as well. Cognitive sight was useful. “So,” He said to Archer as Devaan landed. “Who exactly are we fighting? And why?”

Caer took the blade, Sethramir, in both of his hands hesitantly. Three. He had three Shardblades now, each bonded to him. He hadn’t seen anyone with three...well...ever! One was the spree form of Veo, though Veo never had spoke since death. He could still summon, her, though, in any form instantly. One was the blade that kept him alive. As long as he kept the blade bonded he was pinned to the physical Realm. The downside was, taking the blade away would instantly send him to the Beyond, no chance of resurrection. And one was the blade Sethramir, a blade of great power. As Caer touched it, he could feel its power coursing through. It would block of his spiritual sight and act as a failsafe, as well as being a powerful weapon. ”Thankyou,” he said to the friend Devaan as he turned to face Mace. Mace...something about him reminded Caer of something. As Devaan turned to whisper something into Mace’s ear, Caer just got pulled between the sides. Devaan was a pure man, but Mace was too. Each side had good and bad people, and they were all killing each other. Which side did he belong. Devaan handed Caer some zinc-minds, telling him to look into his and Mace’s souls, but before Caer could do that screaming erupted from across the city. “It’s begun.” Caer said, trying to keep himself from what he’d remembered, what he’d seen happening in this very war. The war had begun. And it wasn’t planning to end nicely.

So, when is the next SE coming up? Both games that were running have ended.

Maybe, but good game to all who were involved. Maybe if I hadn't been so inactive starting out we could have gotten youse. But anyway, it means I get to write a sad one of these: Aftermath: Itiah IV prepared to die. He'd spent the last of his coin getting his book, a family heirloom, back to his son at home. That meant the books life would continue, but it also meant Itiah would die alone. He'd seen the others die right in front of him, killed gruesomely, and as the sword was raised high above Itiah's head, he couldn't help but remember his father, the inky successful Itiah, and how in his jealousy he had left, trying to prove himself. The sword struck, and Itiah IV's last thoughts were of his son, who would grow up without a father figure. Everything went black, and Itiah could feel a snap of incredible pain before fading into death's embrace.

Welcome! Have a welcome waffle! *gives*