Aonar

What can be inferred from the books roughly runs as such: 1. An unredeemed Epic, when faced with their exact weakness, will have their powers cancelled. (Such as [spoiler's] illusions breaking, or Steelheart's invulnerability being nullified.) Depending on the exact weakness, this might mean that they cannot use their powers at all, or that their powers fail when used against a specific person, so on and so forth; but when it comes to their exact weakness, their power is completely cancelled, not just weakened. 2. Things that are close to (or remind one of; the connection won't always be intuitive to someone who is not the Epic) the weakness, can cause their powers to become weaker or inconsistent. (This is what you observed with Fortuity; his precognition was less effective against attractive women; it's been theorized that it shuts down entirely if he's rejected by one. There's a better example of this from later in the books, but it's very spoilery. ) 3. Redeemed Epics are more resistant to their weaknesses; they are still effected, but those effects wear off more quickly, and tend not to be effected by anything that is not their true weakness. (This was implied in-book by spoiler characters, and confirmed by WoB, I believe. I could be wrong in this one though.) In the case of claustrophobia, it would probably make sense for her powers to start going on the fritz in smallish rooms, especially if she's stressed, but not cancel completely until she's actually in a space small enough for her to feel claustrophobic. So yeah, I think you're fine to run it like that.

Ah, sorry. I didn't read that carefully enough. Regardless though, I don't really think it's a good idea. Beyond the already mentioned reasons, there's too much of a deus ex machina inherent in a character like that. Other people should probably weigh in though. In other news, the next part of Eternity's introduction is up. (This one from the point of view of one of Accord's Proxies. I've settled on Accord's contracts being able to cause debilitating pain and distinct disfigurement when broken; for Epics, this is a bad as it gets, for vanillas, it can kill. Also, Accord has quite the flair for the dramatic when writing the exact terms of his contracts. ) Just two left before he becomes a legitimate part of the story. I'll try to do something for Frostfire soon.

If, perchance, one were to go walking through the Washingtonian wilderness on a particular fall afternoon, they might see something unusual. A man, dressed simply, with pale skin and night-black hair, following a road long disused, carrying with him two weapons. A pistol, make and model obscured by frequent modifications, and a spear, cruelly barbed, and marked with a single word, or perhaps a name; Àri. A closer inspection would reveal that the man is not as old as he first appears; likely naught more than a teen, although his face is lined deeply with pains past and present, far more than befit one so young. Or course, chance had nothing to do with this meeting. Lady Truce stepped from concealment in the trees, careful not to snag her dress on the underbrush. It had been a gift from Accord himself; damage to it would not be taken well. If her prey had noticed her, he showed no sign, continuing to walk at a resolute pace, with his head down. After a few moments of silence save for the quiet crunch of leaves underfoot, Truce rolled her eyes, and spoke in a high, lilting voice, “Stop and say hello to an old friend, why don’t you?” He stopped and turned slowly, raising his frosted green eyes to meet hers. “We are not friends, Cynthia.” With an effort of will that looked almost Herculean, he turned away and resumed walking. “If anything, I would describe our relationship more as that between a parasite and its host. You and your employer might need me, but I do not need you. Goodbye.” “Stop.” He faltered briefly, but continued to walk. Truce’s expression shifted into a frown, and an edge of steel entered her voice. “I am telling you three times, Eternity; I am telling you as Cynthia Holloway, as Lady Truce, and as Accord’s Proxy in this matter: you will stop.” Finally he stopped, his arms and legs seeming almost to freeze in place. “Good. Now-” “Now,” Eternity said, cutting her off, “you will release me from the formal binding, witch, or I will personally escort you to hell.” Despite herself, Truce shivered. She’d seen what he had done to… to Areadbhar. That was a fate far worse than death. “Do your worst,” she said, keeping her voice steady. Suddenly he cried out as if struck, falling to his knees despite her command. Smiling at the sound, she walked around to view him from the front. An angry red welt was forming on his cheek, shaped roughly like a set of scales, resting on the point of a sword. As she watched, the scales shifted, moving further and further out of balance. The man’s muscles began to twitch and spasm, as his face locked into a grimace, and he let out a low moan of pain. “I must admit I am disappointed, Eternity. I expected better from you. Running away over a girl, without even having the stones to put in your resignation with Accord. And failing to stay gone, after a mere three days.” Stuttered, halting laughter was his answer. In between convulsions of pain, he managed to speak. “You and I… we both know… there’s no way in… hell… he would’ve just… taken… my sparking… resignation.” “Be that as it may, your actions were no less foolish. Honestly, did you expect things to turn out any other way?” Eternity was shaking constantly now, jaw locked and unable to speak. Sighing and rolling her eyes, Truce pulled his head up so he was looking her in the eyes. “I forgive you,” she whispered. Instantly, the tremors eased; the scales that marked him returned to balance and faded away. Unsteady on his feet, he slowly pushed himself up, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “Accord has granted you quite a bit of power, hasn’t he?” She didn’t bother gratifying that with a response. Undeterred, he continued. “You understand what this power does, yes? You know how it corrupts, how it destroys? There’ll be nothing left of you but a burnt out husk by the time he’s done with you, Cynthia. When you see what you’ve become you’ll wish I had thrown you out of time."

In addition to Blackhoof's points, we already have three temporal manipulators in the RP, and I think that's a power that should probably stay rare. (Timeport, who can jump short distances into the future, Eternity, who can pull people and objects in and out of the flow of time, and Timelock, who I believe has powers more similar to what you describe.) Timelock though, is available for adoption. (I think? I don't remember anyone taking him.) I think that might be your best course; it's an Epic with a similar powerset, albeit different MO, that you can take without adding a new Epic to the game.

Excellent.

Hmm.... I might have to use that. Thanks. (Does magic count as energy? ) That might be part of the problem; it's hard a lot of the time to make the "in-between" type posts (ones that are necessary to the narrative making sense, but not terribly interesting in their own right) into things I care about, so they end up weaker. We've made jokes about what happened in Europe/the UK, and we've some quasi-canon for areas of Canada (just BC, I believe)/the FSA I think, (mostly California, Washington and Alaska) but other than that, I don't believe so.

No, unfortunately, sorry. I'm doing a rough enough job with my own few characters that it doesn't really feel right for me to take another one. Thanks for the advice, although I feel like there must be a little bit more somehow.

So weird question. How do you guys do the whole writing thing? Seriously. I have really no clue what I'm doing; sometimes I'll write something that turns out well, but most of the time I don't. Every now and again I'll get an idea for a scene, a character; their voice and history and motivations appear fully formed, and it all works, for a post or two. Then it stops. Everything I write with that character from there just seems to get weaker and weaker, until I've basically lost their voice, and I'm not really sure how to write them anymore. (IE, Azrael, and I'm worried that it's happening with Frostfire, and will happen with Eternity.) Pretty much all of my personal projects are more beginnings than anything else, and this is a big part of the reason why. Most of you have been doing this a while longer than me; does anyone have any tips for maintaining a character? On a lighter note, because of a bio project, I really want to see a minor Epic named Calamity who's only power is growing really big horsetail ferns.

The problem is they're thoughts that are hard to work into the scene in context, but necessary for putting the scene into context, if that makes any sense. I need to wait for a couple people to post in Astoria anyways, so I'll mess around with things a little. (Maybe write them from a different character's perspective.)

Alright. All that really matters is that the vanilla has Accord's authority to make agreements and such; if Accord has to formalize them after the fact, that doesn't matter. Mostly because it's information that I'm not sure how to convey without breaking the story's flow; the main reason for the different perspective is to tie back to the WHOOC, and make it obvious that it's a snapshot of Eternity's thoughts looking back. I can scrap it; it'll just mean a little more work for me.

I was, but she doesn't have to be, for the plot to work. (What exactly is the range limit on Gifting, anyways?) Speaking of little details, does anyone mind if I include little first-person snippets into posts that feature Eternity? Just little couple-sentence things, revealing a touch of relevant backstory/motivation, etc. I'm not always sure how to include things like that without an info-dump, and given my initial concept for the character, I think something like that might work well.

I'm not yet sure on that one. Azrael will want him to, but Accord most likely has other plans. The decision will probably end up being made by the vanilla I'll be introducing, as she's Accord's representative. Eternity himself will most likely wish to join whichever faction Accord doesn't want him to, although his motivations are a little murkier, as you'll (hopefully) see (if I can write what I'm planning well enough). Right. Forgot about that. I'll think one up ASAP.

The fleshwarper disappeared. Unease tinged Azrael’s thoughts. That’s not right. If he has a teleportation secondary, he would’ve used it by now… He quested out with his awareness, waiting. The darkness swirled and eddied, as if caught in a light breeze. His eyes narrowed. Something is here. But why can’t I see it directly? A feeling almost like pain sprang into being in Azrael’s mind, a shuddering, horrifying wrongness. One of his constructs was moving against his will. It was as if one of his own limbs suddenly belonged to someone else. Instinctively, he lashed out against it, forcing it back under his control. As he did so, he felt Bioterror suddenly recoalesce inside the room, standing over the offending shadow. Spark this. I’ve wasted far too much time here, achieving nothing. With a moment’s thought, he warped outside, dismissing his constructs. Almost immediately, he could feel the various fragments of Bioterror’s body trying to reform. Good. Separation clearly wasn’t the right tactic. Casting out mentally, Azrael drew the mist that had shrouded the tower back into the observatory, forcing it to condense into a material resembling aerogel. Pausing for a moment, he could sense Bioterror struggling within; larger and stronger now than he was before, but still unable to make much headway. That will have to be enough. After a moment’s further contemplation, he stepped back, disappearing in a cloud of fine black threads. A few hours had passed, and the sun now hung high in the sky. On a dusty street miles away from Astoria, a young man walked alone. Dressed in plain black sweats and a hoodie, he was utterly unremarkable aside from his height. He walked carefully, hooded head turning at each intersection; assessing each turn before striding confidently onwards. Eventually, he came to an alley, empty of anyone save himself. Far down the wall, someone had crudely painted a pair of scales in hot pink spray paint, with a number of obscenities and lewd drawings arrayed about them. The man tilted his head quizzically, then shrugged. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked through the wall. On the other side of the illusion, two startled guards hurriedly raised rifles. "What is your business?" Rather than respond, the man simply pulled up one of his sleeves. On his forearm was an intricate tattoo in plain black ink; a pair of scales resting on the point of a sword, with a heart and a feather held in balance. The guard's wariness seemed only to increase, although they lowered their guns. "Right this way, sir." They lead him on to a door, plain and unadorned, deep within the building. "Accord is inside." The man opened the door and pushed back his hood, revealing pitch black eyes. "Hello Accord," Azrael said. Behind a cluttered desk at the far end of the room, a sharply dressed man looked up in surprise. "Azrael! What brings you here again?" A look of puzzlement crossed his face. "And however did you get past the guards?" The same symbol that had been on Azrael's arm sketched itself in the air between them. Accord tsked disappointedly. "Forging my sigil? That must be a new low for you, my friend. Usually you make a point of killing at least a few vanillas, if just to keep up appearances." New lines sketched themselves in the air, this time forming words. I believe there may be enemies of mine listening in on this conversation. I would like to maintain a certain amount of discretion. "Ah, of course. So this is a business trip then, I gather. By the way, how is the League working out with you?" As well as could be expected, given the circumstances. Which brings me to my business; last I was here, you had an Epic that excelled at destroying biological material on staff, did you not? I could use her services in my current endeavor. "Ah, yes, Àreadbhar... she... died two weeks ago." Azrael's eyebrows shot up. Wasn't she a High Epic? Did someone discover her weakness? "Not exactly. I've had tissue samples sent to Knighthawk, but you know how he is. I might get something back next week; I might never get anything back at all. "But, I might be able to get you something better. I can get you the one who killed her."

Theoretical last Azrael post up. No guarantees on quality. Would've been up much sooner, but this last week has been one of those ones where you write for ten minutes, realize everything you're writing sucks, delete it, then rewrite it because you can't think of anything better. >>

Are non-English names acceptable? If they are, then that widens things significantly, especially if you'd willing to include translations for the word in other contexts, and even more so if you allow some degree of bastardization/shortening in order to make them sound better. (IE, you could have gravity mages named Severitas, (Latin), Vakavuus, (Finnish), Raskus (Estonian), Mahara (Maori), etc, etc.)

Call it 30, if they'll still take bids.

So I've got a massive Azrael/Accord/Eternity (plus at least one viewpoint from a Gifted vanilla) post in the works (currently approaching ~2000 words). It's got pretty clear division points though; should I just finish it all up to Eternity's entrance into the city, (would be posted probably Tuesday night next week, and come in somewhere around 3000 words) or post sections as I complete them? (Probably be in four or five, seven to eight hundred word chunks over the next week or so.)

I'll have to be boring, I'm afraid. School is eating away a lot of my time right now. Action 1: Try for Heir. (Glen, Gwendolyn).

Nope. Not unless they let him. Really, the whole mind-crush thing is something that can't happen under regular circumstances with the changes; what happened with Ari was an anomaly, and a very traumatic one for Eternity.

Depends what you mean, The complexity limit does not apply outside of time (he literally has indefinite time in which to focus and zero distractions) so he can pull people in and out of stopped time without their consent, albeit with difficulty. (Similarly, bringing things with him as he moves out of time does not invoke the limit on complexity, just banishing does.) However he can't leave them there without their consent. Given that persons outside time are unable to be harmed, this means that it is impossible to kill directly with his powers without consent. Which was I think the primary problem before; that it was only artificial limits that kept Eternity from being a game breaker, rather than ones intrinsic to his powerset.

Could he banish an entire house? I'd say probably not. There isn't a hard limit on what he can banish (he could do a house's weight in solid steel pretty easily) it's mostly limited by complexity. (IE why living things are ridiculously difficult.) It'd be easier for him to do a wall, or a section of a wall, but even that is probably approaching his limits.

Alright. I know Eternity got shot down pretty hard last time, but I think I've settled on a couple pretty solid fixes. Here's a new version of Eternity's powerset, hopefully revised enough that it's unobjectionable. Sorry if that's a little confusing, (I'm trying to do this from mobile, and it's a tad annoying.) but I think it should clear up the issues brought up, and allow me to keep the character the way I'd like them. Thoughts?

I might have something up later today; if not, you should go. I doubt I'll be able to get anything together over the school week; things are very busy right now.

As Chaos said, there isn't really one, it's more of a logic thing. If you like though, here's a kind of cool example of how it works that my math teacher showed me; proving that 1 = 2. Edit: Storming smilies ruining my math.

And then when you start invoking ridiculously large bases, you can additionally start messing with nowhere's definition of appearing the the palm of their hand; per their definition, an arbitrarily large number of diamonds would be forced to overlap in such as way as to cause nuclear fusion, and potentially a very, very large explosion.