• We have noted instances of people creating multiple accounts for the purpose of padding votes in a quest. We would like to remind everyone that multiple accounts are not permitted. Anyone caught attempting to pad a vote will face harsh consequences.

Defeat The Godmodder

Reader mode
4th Wall Shattering Post -
A sophomore gazes at the HEXAGONAFIELD through a device previously mentioned. As Moniker narrarated the results of his final action, he smiled. Although his ability to influence the battlefield is gone, he could still talk to the others in the battlefield. He decided to do so.

"So... guess I'm out for now. Just accelerating the inevitable, I guess."

"I would recommend taking out the Suppression Tank, but we only have 3 entities. The remaining soldiers will easily kill every last entity, clearing the field for good and leaving you all wide open."

"I guess the best course of action would be to mortal action what remains here. You're all dead anyways, no matter what you do this turn."

"Have fun, and don't forget to go all out. See you on the other side, everyone."

"..."

"AND CROSSWORD IS NOT THE RIGHT ANSWER! WE GUESSED IT TWICE ALREADY!"

Although defying all logic, the poster was certain his message would reach the others. He looked forward to seeing the others last actions and ensuing "smash posts", and finally retreated back into the shadows of the lurking afterlife.





 
Last edited:
Severed hand, Soulflayer hand, Shocking Shieldrazer
Voodoo Doll, HP^Sword, Old Control Panel (RGB buttons)

The Third Eye grants 2 abilities: Seen Through Their Eyes and Cut Through the Lies.
Seen Through Their Eyes allows you to select 2 people, Person A and Person B. Person A is the "giver", and his memories will be searched for whatever you want to see, from their perspective. Person B is the "recipient", and they will see the memories. Neither person can be yourself, and its entirely possible for one or the other of the two selected to dodge/run away and get out of it - you'll almost definitely need to hold them in place.
Meanwhile, Cut Through The Lies can detect if a statement is a lie or true - "technically" false of true rules apply. It also detects entire statements, rather than specific pieces of a statement. It isn't very advanced. It also needs to be "primed" before usage (EX: Ask an NPC a question, then state in your post that you "Cut Through the Lies" on their response.).
Debt:
Karp: 3
JOE: 7

I point out that the Drakken Laser Drill is huge, slow, unmoving, and now glued to the floor with a big red Target sign on it thanks to me. Dodge reduced probably to 0.

Ugh. What a waste of a perfectly good gun. Only 6 shields. Whatever.
I use the Shocking Shieldrazer to absolutely obliterate the Drakken Laser Drill's shields and redirector (and also do about 14 damage total. Magical.)


I flip the Godmodder the bird. The bird, while flipping, does a majestic pirouette at such a high speed that it creates a vortex across time and space, summoning the banner ad for DLE's second act: of [thyme] and [ ]. The canon welding with DLE is bad enough. Worse still, the welder itself just so happens to be firing directly into the Godmodder's liver, via 7th dimensional space-shenanigans.
Then the bird lands in the Godmodder.
Not on.
In.
The little mechanical drinky bird thing (you know the one) bends and drink some of the Godmodder's brain juices.
It un-dips.
It dips again.
It undips.
And so on, and so forth until somehow, the Godmodder's brain dries up and dies.
The Godmodder survives dying, of course, because he's the Godmodder, but he does not survive unharmed.
 
Last edited:
... sorry if I am a little less enthusiastic this time around. something bad happened to me emotionally so I apologize.

Action 1-3: so... this is how it ends huh. never thought I will die like this... this is it... I feel like I may lose. hell, I AM going to lose... nothing I do is going to do anything... I fall on my knees. I lone tear runs down my cheek. I wait for the upcoming demise...

but... something is keeping me going. Something is telling me to never give up. and I know who it is. It's my Determination. I have a conversation with it:

"I can't do it. He will kill me. I am afraid..."
"You have to keep going! it's for the sake of everyone!"
"But the Godmodder is going to insta-kill everyone any minute now..."
"While that may be true. There is one thing you can do."
"and what's that?"
"... Showing them what you got!"


MORTAL BLAST!: DETERMINATION


My eyes start to glow bright red. I start to float up into the sky. I bring out all of my weapons. I no longer feel like in control. I don't feel anything, I don't FEAR anything. I speak,

"THIS IS FOR EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THIS EXISTENCE!!"

I rush over to the Drakken Laser Drill and smirk. My swords burn with so much power. It slashes at it, then finally merging into a giant sword and stabbing right through the generator. Next, my bow and arrow. I fire my bow more times than I can count at the enemy which then finally ending with a ginormous arrow hitting it causing a massive explosion. Lastly, My fist and kicks. I put on (anti-laser drill) gauntlets and (anti-laser drill) boots and I kick and punch the crap out of the enemy. I start to feel weak, I am losing power. But I give it my all. after a fury of blows, I perform the final smash of a MEGA-TON PUNCH and a DRAGON KICK.

after all is said and done. I fall on the floor gasping for air. My determination talks to me,

"You did it! you may done a little damage to it but you did it!"
"yeah but I am going to die..."
"don't worry. I have a feeling you are going to be brought back..."
"you sure? also, when could you talk?"
"Yes, I am sure. As to answer your second question, I will tell you when this thing blows over. But for now, rest. you did well."

I draw my final breath. I go limp.
 
Last edited:
It's over. the Godmodder's ready to kill us. but he can't kill our legacys, can he? not as easily as the person, at any rate. and yet the fragility of the person leaves much to be desired...

my body is still sitting there, in a pool of my own innards. but mortal actions mean the energy spent keeping me alive(???) goes into other things.
so the body stands up. the broken legs hold it up, and it looks at the Godmodder.
pauses.
blinks.
pauses again.
and then begins to slowly, painfully, shift its mouth into the crude shape of a smile.
well, more of a grimace.
fat and muscle seem to be slowly draining away from the body, and face.
behind remains only skin and bone.
sunken eyes, a skull-like face. it seems maintaining the players body included maintaining muscles and stuff...?
the form then half-collapses, slumped but still standing, a grim smile still upon their face.
well that was anti-climactic, aye?
well, let's get on to better and more important things, yeah? this action's basically a joGurgle
with a gurgle, then a loud splash, a mass of something dark and purple launches itself out of the living corpse's mouth.
the force of this pushes the corpse over, onto its back, with a squelch.
the purple mass shivers, and rolls its way back, back toward the still-living corpse that vomited it up.
the mass arrives, unnoticed in the crossfire.
the corpse is still living, but now conserves its energy, perhaps in hopes of destroying the purple thing. being mortally wounded doesn't really help with maintaining logical thought or following through on precommitments.
but it's too slow, its sense of time distorted. the purple blob arrives it, and before it can react, rushes through the corpse's skull, through the eyes and the mouth, leaving behind voids.
moments tick past, the battle moving on without them.
the living corpse loses this fight,and thin purple threads, fibers and strings snake out, covering the outside and likely also the inside of this structure (What little inside the corpse has, at any rate).
the threads skitter, and find purchase on the somehow already-rotting flesh, and it pulls itself up.
the eyes are now hollow holes, dark purple. the mouth, a gaping void.
in the eyes quickly grow twin pods of purple fiber, which then turn into shining pink spheres, almost glassy-looking.
Tainted Player created. it quickly places the original indestructible shard of the taint into its pocket... which somehow transfers it back into wherever it was before this. don't question, please. it'll be faster that way, and you seem to want this to be over soon, given the skeledop you tried to pull.
purple drops of mucous drip out of their gaping maw, and then there is a screech, the figure asserting its existance, or maybe just testing its vocal cords.
it doesn't do anything else, though, and is so ignored for another minute, the purple heart of the taint within it pulsing, glowing, brightenning, compressing, dimming, brightening further...
it screeches again, and this time does something. it blasts into the air, bright yellow-white trails of light behind it,a flickering harness on its torso. outside the range of whatever's supressing dimensional transport, it levitates in place.
the tainted player stabs an arm into its own stomach, tearing what flesh remained, and pulls out three glowing bulbs with many leaves attached. it tosses them away, and they slowly float down, but only slowly. the bulbs swell, and become rifts into other planets.
on the world of Exilair, its slaverbots compounds already pulverized by earthquakes, almost a third of this tainted beings mass shoots out. picking an unused portion of the planet, perhaps a salt mine where the slaverbots and slaves both died, or the slaves were sleeping... somewhere the good guys won't miss, at any rate, the blob lands, in a shaded crevice. and, as taint is wont to do, it begins to spread. first, it fills the caves. unseen cracks, and such. then, it creates another spot directly opposite it on the planet... tainted land is a fully vertical infinite height stack, after all. that tainted spot expands, distracting forces while this taint expands itself more, everywhere in its section. it breaks into salt mine 616753, the one it arrives near. the slaves are freed. the sickly or excessively injured probably wouldn't survive anyway, and are consumed, becoming full-health Tainted Miners. the others storm out, aided it by taint harming the robots. once beaten into scrap, each robot is taken control of... this variety of taint is designed to manipulate machines, you see, in addition to biology. it comes at the cost of reduced magical capabilities, but there's none to be found on Exlair, and these robots will serve to expand it further away without leaving clear lines of taint to its heart.

In the Distant necromantic study, in the world with the Telhaki Elves, a place now devoid of Godmodder influence, for a time at least, a different blob of taint lands. it immediately swells to many times the size. yes, the magical runoff here is exquisite. taint, you see, is normally formed by overloading a world with unstable magic, the runoff of inefficient experiments, and so on. the harm to the worlds aura manifests in taint. this taint blob has heightened magical abilities, at the cost of reduced ability to infect higher lifeforms,like the elves. their world will look strange, after it's done, but they'll be fine... on the other hand, waste will no longer be wasted, and the taint is smart. it will play in give and take,helping and being helped. the taint swells more and more as it finds more leftovers from the massive spell, and overtakes this world. the elves worry for a time, but the Godmodder is a large threat, and they need every advantage they can get- like the very ground attacking his troops, or all animals gaining power and an intense distaste for Godmodder forces, or the trees ceasing to burn in flames.

In arctic reposition station #5082, another blob lands. the taint here has the abilities of both the others, though it took more energy to create as a result. the prisoners are long gone, but the taint quickly infests their room. then, the nearby corridor. then, it begins to find bodies. corpses of the soulrazer troops guarding it, some still holding rifles. it takes hold of them, puppeting their bodies. first, the bodies explore, finding ruined technology, lifters, generators, mech suits, mostly not mech suits, and then... jackpot. it finds a boat, or a plane, or a spaceshit. a method of high-speed travel. each puppet gets one, until they're all gone. the spaceships are infested with taint, and do not report to the godmodder's servers. nobody notices as, in the ruined and smouldering station, there's a short flurry of activity as the taint spreads. if spaceships, to other planets. abandoned ones, preferably. otherwise, other landmasses, and facilities are scouted. when one is found, the taint will amass its forces, creating what it can without a base- tainticles on structures and tainted goo are mostly its limit, though wood is relatively easy to find, and allows for continual creation of tainted spores... anyway, it spreads until spaceships, then abandoned planets. the taint will become a force to be reckoned with... and the tainted figure, still with some mass, snaps shut the portals and sends them flying downwards at the field. they all miss uh latula or something, but they look like they could of hit. muddying the trail, you know. to muddy it further, the tainted figure(s remains) makes a big show of trying to retrieve some old entity... like examon or something.... from the eternal stasis machine. this obviously fails because not even godmodder can dewit. but they don't really try... their power is spent by now, and the fall down, down, down to the floor of purgatory... and even getting in someones way is not granted to them, the tainted being getting blown off course and out of the way to a remote corner of purgatory by a gust of unlucky wind.
in the wake of Piono's attack, and whatever else other people do, a single extra facility shutting down, some oddly-colored spots from satellites... these things won't be noticed for a while. the world of the telhaki is free of [PG] influence for now, and so unsupervised. and who cares about what happens to the mostly broken-down facilities of Exilair? or some random planets with ancient ruins? nobody. there's more important things to worry about, divine smiting and ghouls and hellpits and mechanical failure and the charmzard glotching.


Summarized: I mek taint. 3 type of taint apear in 3 places in godmoder empyre. this taint spread and be intelegent. by time godmoder is notice, it much bigger. trick w/ mised atk
 
This is our last hurrah eh?.... I 'll strike to assist in freeing captives or slaves throughout his empire..... And perhaps a little more. Gotta expand Piono's legacy, no?
FOCUS!
Let Freedom Reign!
I reach into my chest, pull out my heart, and crush it. I point at the sky.
Let my words be heard from the glory of heaven to the fires of hell and everywhere in between!
Let freedom reign! Let it reign across dimensions, from gods to devils, from champions to slaves.

Minor gods: Are you content just hiding away like cowards, waiting until the Godmodder comes for you? Is that the kind of life you wish to live? I say fight! Join with your fellow gods, with Players, and with all races across the universe to fight him. Even now he hunts you like animals. Together we have hope/

Devils: Fight! If not for freedom than your own selfish greed. If the Godmodder eliminates the gods and the Players, and enslaves the entire universe, what would you do? No souls would go to Hell, they would all just become the Godmodder's servants and slaves. None would even make a deal with you, Lucifer. So I say fight! Fight for your greed and selfish wants.

Champions: You are the strong. You either work for him willingly for the glory of battle, or are forced. But what glory is there in these battles? Of enslaving people who can hardly fight back, and crushing those who can't defend themselves? There is none. So Fight! Fight for the oppressed, the lowly and the weak. The Godmodder is the ultimate tyrant: who better to fight?

Slaves: You are the lowly ones. The weak and oppressed. But you have value. The Godmodder and his allies are few compared to all of you together! Steal from his grasp your freedom, save your homes, take your lives back! Weaken his tools, break his weapons, rip and tear for every last inch!

To all others: Rally together. Prepare for war. If we do not stand united now, he will just pick us off one by one, until you are the only one left, so... Join the fight!

Men here! Give the Godmodder hell for me! Archangel and Horseman of War! This is our last stand, but it need not be yours! Escape to your factions, and prepare to fight! I crumple over, dead by my own mortal strike.

tldr: Sent a message across the multiverse. Was psychic, shattered mental blocks and GM controls. Attempted to inspire and rally the people, building off of Piono's blaze of glory.
 
Last edited:
Severed hand, Soulflayer hand, Voodoo Doll, HP^Sword, Old Control Panel (RGB buttons)

The Third Eye grants 2 abilities: Seen Through Their Eyes and Cut Through the Lies.
Seen Through Their Eyes allows you to select 2 people, Person A and Person B. Person A is the "giver", and his memories will be searched for whatever you want to see, from their perspective. Person B is the "recipient", and they will see the memories. Neither person can be yourself, and its entirely possible for one or the other of the two selected to dodge/run away and get out of it - you'll almost definitely need to hold them in place.
Meanwhile, Cut Through The Lies can detect if a statement is a lie or true - "technically" false of true rules apply. It also detects entire statements, rather than specific pieces of a statement. It isn't very advanced. It also needs to be "primed" before usage (EX: Ask an NPC a question, then state in your post that you "Cut Through the Lies" on their response.).
Debt:
Karp: 3
JOE: 7

The last Ditch truly is our final hope. Time to give it the best shot conceivable.
I give the last ditch several superior scopes, each one hand crafted by priests of the highest order of the highest orders of the highest of civilizations. As you might guess, they are all high when crafting them.
I once took superman to the frigid planet of Iceworld, and ask him to use his laser vision. On iceworld, the temperature is so far *below* absolute zero that physics ceases all movement. Physics, in fact, died long ago in the great war against the frost demons on Iceworld. Frostbite is a real jerk.
Under these supernaturally cold conditions, even lasers freeze (making warfare very difficult). Superman's laser vision froze solid. I took his crystallized ocular beams and thanked Superman for his work. Unfortunately, he was already dead at the time.
Behold. Literal laser-sight. Crystallized. I hand them to the Last Ditch.
I once visited an alternate universe where the tank was named the barrel, by the British instead of the Americans. Interesting Etymology, tank. Look it up some time. Anyways, I used my natural affinity with a specific species of tank (barrel, there) to commune with the TOGOD, who provided me with a TOG CDXIII: the worlds longest tank (barrel). Longer, even, than the legendarily long TOG XLII. And that one was XL.
I provide this incredibly long barrel to the Last Ditch.
I take out my DrizzleFur'Shizzle brand MAXIMUM LUCK d20s. Dice which, thanks to the proper application of several portents, air benders, vacuum chambers and ducks, have never rolled a single natural 20 in their lifetime. In fact, this has caused them to have had all their natural 1s through 19s rolled out, meaning that they can now only roll 20s as per the ancient DnD magics that the dice function on.
I give the MAXIMUM ROLL D20s to the Last Ditch.
I toss several billion bottles o' exp at the Last Ditch, who spends all the levels earned in the Rogue class for maximum critical murderage.
I stick my voodoo doll right in front of the the world's longest barrel. When the Ditch attacks, I'll be instantly killed (in a manner that wont block the attack itself in any way, of course).
My mortal action will maximize the Last Ditch's instant kill chance for this one attack.
My second life will have been worth something.

"Please, Last Ditch. You *are* our last ditch attempt. And my final hope to be useful... to have actually helped, even if in some small, and probably insignificant way when compared to people like Piono or Carleah or whomever else. Please. Don't screw this up. I... don't want to die for nothing..."

I order beg the last ditch to attack the drakken laser drill, or if it has died already, the wall soldier or, if minibosses count as bosses for somehow, the strongest PG entity alive at the time.
Conditional entity orders work, right?

Anyways, with that done, I sit down and try and calm myself in preparation for death.
I don't calm down.
Fortunately, its over rather soon anyways.
 
Dispite your memory I did the mana flowers while in limbo with the bank of actions, also I'm listed twice in the player stats? And you didn't list my new legindary weapon. Also I accidentally doubleposted because I thought the first one was lost. Meh on the mana flowers actually they ain't worth shit if I don't have the mana bees.
 
[MORTAL ACTION]

"Operator... Unfortunately, it appears it is our time."

The girl looks up at the Godmodder.

"... Operator, I have defragged one final memory. Transmitting."

The girl blinks, turns to Omiglot, and-


You wake up. You are in your bed, your room, your house, your street, your neighborhood, your city, your life.

You slam a hand down on the buzzer calling you to reality, hard. As much as you'd rather not. The date is September 18th, 2015. Nothing of note. No birthdays of anyone you know, no major holidays to observe, and its a weekday, though it is at least a friday. Nothing of importance, other than that.

You will yourself to leave the eternal comfort of the bed, warm and stifling as it is, and turn on the lamp to illuminate your room. Messy, messy, messy... You always say you'll clean it up, and you never do. Why bother? You know where everything is, anyways.

"LEEEEEEEAAH! Breakfast!" A voice calls from downstairs-hoarse, harsh, but maternal. You hear your name, and obey the call of what smells to be bacon, shifting through a closet full of clothes.

"DON'T FORGET THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" The voice from below adds. Your face falls. The fire extinguisher. The voice is pyrophobic. Immensely so. Your father tried to put her in an asylum, or something, but beyond her immense inability to live in a house without a fire extinguisher on every person and in every room, she functions well and good, so that failed. You think that caused the divorce. That or her smoking. You like your father better, but you like your mother's cooking better.

"I'm coming!" You shout, putting on your school clothes. Red hoodie, because it would be cold. Blue jeans, because why not. Your shoes are still soaking after that dunk into the lake, yesterday, so you figure your hiking boots are sufficient, if altogether ulitarian. Then, the glasses-you need them to read, and textbooks don't unblur themselves for farsighted people. You finally snatch up the Fire Extinguisher-your mother would flip if you didn't have it on you, visibly. For whatever reason. She hasn't even taught you how to use it-she just wants it on your person so she can use it, in case of a fire. Thankfully, you've learned how to thwack rude dudes right and proper with it. You've never needed to actually use it for its indended purpose, though, so you've forcibly welded additional metal onto it, just to make it a better bludgeon, because that's all it's good for, just a stupid bludgeon. If you could use it to put out any fire, it'd be the burning trainwreck that is your life.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Your life is stupid.

Anything else...? Right. The gift from your father. It's one of the most important things in the world to you-the Technical Ring. You record epic moments, crazy stunts, and wild attacks with it, and then, after a lot of practice and a lot of bruises, you, slowly, replicate the movement for your own purposes. You've had a lot of crazy times escaping punks with super jumps straight out of kung-fu flicks, but your superior jumping skills are all you have to show for your work with this thing, for now. Still, you love it to death, and you've got a load of other things you'd like to learn. Someday. Sometime. Somewhere that isn't school.

Fully equipped and ready for the day, you figuratively burst down the door and head downstairs. Bacon, as advertised-and eggs coated in pepper. Standing over them, a woman, already prepared for the day in full business attire, a black suit sharp as a blade, a red-and-black tie yearning for the blood of competitor businesswomen, blonde hair tucked in a short bun, horned glasses softly glaring the features of a hopeless chain smoker, with a dull beige purse containing a Fire Extinguisher (among other, more sane items) dangling from her left shoulder. Your mother.

You dislike your mom for a lot of reasons, chain smoking and crazy-tier pyrophobia being two, but her cooking isn't one of the other reasons. "Morning, mom."

"Good morning, Leah... Fire Extinguisher, check. You didn't misplace the one in your room, right?" She asks.

"No, mom," you say, sitting down on the dining room table and immediately chowing down on your breakfast.

"Good, good, good," She says, rushing off. "Your bookbag's by the door, sweetie. I'm going to have to go to work early, so you can see yourself to the bus stop, right?" She says.

"Sure," you say, absentmindedly enjoying dead pig. You then slowly realize what that statement means. "Wait, what?"

"There's been an emergency of some kind, honey," She says. "Something nasty has cropped up, apparently."

"Something... Nasty?" You say, in a tone of delicious interest. Considering she said tornados were merely 'bad,' something nasty was either a failed attempt at learning slang or a very concerning matter, indeed. No-one argues the weather with a weatherperson.

"Yes... And confusing too, but basically, there's signs of a hurricane," she's said.

"Uhh, in the midwest?" You respond.

"That was my response," She replies. "They've checked and re-checked it, though, but as of the last hour my coworkers have been convinced that a hurricane is about to whirl on through. Not a tornado-a full-on class five hurricane. Of course, I'll just have to figure out which of those faulty machines is malfunctioning this time, and everything ought to sort itself out, but they're freaking out like headless chickens. My boss said they'd dock my pay if I didn't show up, so..."

"OK then," you reply, a noteworthy bitterness tainting your voice. "Have a nice day."

"You too, sweetie," she responds, walking out the door without further ado.

The bacon stops tasting so wonderfully bacon-y. Your mother drove you to the bus stop-for a reason. A very, very good reason...

You sigh. You carve through your plate, attacking the food like a soldier at war, as if every bite could be your last-and preparing for one hell of a chase. They would be all over you, and you would find one more reason to make sure you always get a good house in a good neighborhood over a good car. 'Intimidation factor' your butt. Thanks again, mom.

You don't bother trying to look subtle, once you're done. You wash your dish (mom would freak out if you didn't), down a glass of orange juice, wash that too, grab your backpack, and whip out your Fire Extinguisher, hungering for the screams of a dying fire but also willing to settle for the blood of crazy teenage hooligans. Maybe this time, your mom will realize she can't let you go alone, no matter what. 'A bit of a keruffle,' your butt.

You open the door with the spare house key, and make sure you put it back in that subtle, hand-sized black box behind the bush at the front of your house-its hiding place. You can't let that key leave the hiding place, or mom will freak out at you. Even if you didn't move it. Especially if you didn't. She assumes that you told someone, rather than someone finding out.

You are going to destroy her car one of these days, set fire to her house, and laugh at her face as child services takes you away to one of those criminal institutions. She'd be lingering with the shame of it for, like, a month. Maybe you'd go to jail for it. Maybe you'd meet your dad there, and it wouldn't be gender-separated. Maybe you'd be a stupid idiot to think that. As in, certainly. You cast a wary eye over the cracked pavement and the pale sidewalk, weeds marring every lawn that isn't your own, a broken neighborhood, a broken street, broken houses, broken families. Fitting that your mom would move here, rather than anywhere sane. The wind whips in your face as you pull up the hood-perhaps they wouldn't recognize you on the way over, think you're a boy? Heh, no. No way. Not with the Fire Extinguisher in your hands. 'Safety hazard' your butt.

You keep the Fire Extinguisher firmly in your hands as you walk along, careful to occasionally turn your head and make sure, absolutely, positively sure, that they are not following you, even as the wind lashes out, chilling you through your heavy clothes. You used to live somewhere warmer than this-somewhere nice, tropical, uptown, not down in the sticks. The midwest may not suck, but this place, it does. You may as well live in a trailer park-they'd be more open, at least. Here, on this street, people act like they're middle class and live like they're below the poverty line. Except you and your mom. And they know it.

Minutes pass with only the sound of your footsteps and the howl of the wind breaking the silence. Then, the sound of two more pairs of feet behind you, as sudden as a ghost. You turn your head, extinguisher ready-and sigh in relief.

"Leah! Damn. Mom's got her keister in a knot, or somethin'?" Says Margeret-a brunette with twirly hair and a large nose, taller than you by a few inches. Freckled, hazel-eyed, friendly, and clutching a book.

"Some kind of work emergency. They'd dock her pay if she didn't go," you say.

"That sucks," says Nicole. She almost looks like your twin, but she's a bit shorter than you, and by golly, she almost has this fey, inexplicable air about her. She always seems to glow, smile, no matter the situation. She keeps a hand tucked on a deck of cards-she's way too flexible with that thing. "...What's it about?"

"...Hurricane. In the midwest. Mom thinks its another machine error," you say.

"Well, windy enough for it!" Nicole chirps.

"Probably just a large tornado, while its in a thunderstorm. If it was a hurricane, we'd be on the east coast," Margeret replies, factual as ever.

"I know how hurricanes work, there isn't any way this is a hurricane," You say. "Heck, I don't even know if they should call it a hurricane or a typhoon, they usually do that by which coast you're on. But we're nowhere near either coast."

"Well, a tornado isn't really much better..." Margaret says, trailing off.

"You twats better run off, or we will bloody you!" Nicole says, turning around.

"What's it to you?"

A chill runs down your spine, and you whip your head around, making sure you're not being surrounded, before zoning in on the voice-yep. Him. A dark purple hoodie, black jeans, boots... You almost look like him, eugh! The creepy man approaches, your older male counterpart in appearance eyeing you up. Primal fear runs down your spine, even as Nicole and Margaret arrange themselves in your defense. A three-to-one, but the one is an adult. A dangerous adult.

"You's sneaking upon our fine friend here, that's what's it to us, pal!" Nicole says.

"Rather brash of you to assume," he says. You don't even know his name-you just call him the creep.

"G-g-get lost, creep!" You say.

"Oh, come on, one bad little trip and you keep thinking of me that way? We live on the same street block, you know. I know where you live and all, it's not even invasive," he says.

"And I know where you live! And I don't prowl around at six-thirty in the morning looking for one specific chick!" Nicole shouts.

"...Are you her twin?" The man says, looking between the two of you.

"...No." Nicole and you say.

"...Whatever. I'm just walking along. Quit sassing me," the creep says.

"You don't have any business going that direction, your work's blocked off." Nicole says.

The man's blue eyes close into a glare at Nicole. "Now... How'd you know that, little spy?"

"It's called, looking up assault charges in the last ten years, dummy." Nicole says. "Now, you gonna add to your criminal record, or are you going to scram?" She adds, aggressive.

The creep leers. "Stupid harpies..." He says, turning around.

"...Oh, thank god you two were here!" Leah says. "I was worried about him. He's been harassing me, and my mother. God knows why... How'd you know about the assault thing?" Leah says. "I never told you about him, at all."

"Luck. Concern. You tend to get into bad situations," Nicole says.

"I was just dragged along." Margaret adds. "Nicole, you've got to stop playing pretend superhero, sometimes. If he wanted a real fight he'd leave us bloody messes. And then he'd claim we started it."

"Like the law enforcement would believe a convicted criminal over the word of three beaten girls," Nicole says.

"I'm agreeing with Margaret, here," you say. "They're paid to get charges, not to chase justice."

"Awfully pessimistic of you," Nicole says. "Not like we'd have a choice if he really wanted to pick a bone with us, though, wouldn't it?"

A thought springs into your head, suddenly-doesn't he have a dog he usually walks? "Hey, wait, did either of you see a rottie walking around with him?"

"Uh, no?" Nicole says.

"Yep." Margaret says, pointing behind you.

You swivel your head just in time for the dog to try to bite at you-reality simmers as the world ebbs and flows into a distorted alternate dimension-
​

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, SHOWTIME!

ROLECALL:
Nicole (16 AGI) (26/26 HP) (18/18 TP)
Leah (14 AGI) (31/31 HP) (13/13 TP)
Robbie Rottie (13 AGI) (44/44 HP) (5/5 TP)
Margaret (10 AGI) (25/25 HP) (20/20 TP)

SCENE ONE!
NICOLE, ACTION!

Nicole, as is the right of the most agile of you, gets the first move as you, your two friends and the very hostile dog are forcibly displaced by the laws of turn-based combat!

"AIYEEE!" Margaret shouts, the most inexperienced of the combatants.

"He's got an attack dog?!" Nicole shouts in surprise.

"That guy works as a loan shark. The dog's not afraid to chomp us!" you say.

"Maybe we can say the dog really did eat our homework?" Nicole ponders.

"That's dumb as heck," you shout.

Nicole opts to just kick the dog in the snout, to establish dominance or something of the sort. Her legs always seem a tad bit more fluid than you can ever get your own kicks, and you can't get it out of your head.

THWAM! 5 DAMAGE!
LEAH, ACTION!

"Wait, so we're going in order of-but that means-"

"Margaret, don't get panicky!" you say. "If my luck holds true he'll probably try to bite me, if anything... Or hopefully Nicole."

"Please let it bite her please it it bite her-"

"... Really, Margaret? You're gonna let a stupid dog freak you out?" you say, incredulous.

"I AM NOT USED TO THESE SITUATIONS!" She shouts.

You check out your Technique Ring, staring eagerly at a variety of Techniques you would love to try out, and then sigh in the ever-present realization that you will almost certainly never get to use any of these for a long, long while. Any, except your wonderful superjump. You activate the Ring-your body feels a sensation quite like a heat flash as you prepare your legs.

"Sorry, not sorry!" You shout, as you go airborn. Very, very airborn. If not for the laws of turn-based combat, you'd be coming down much sooner, but as it stands, gravity is not available right now, please leave a message.

LEAH JUMPS UP!
ROBBIE ROTTIE, ACTION!

The dog's ruthless attack is immediate the second its turn is granted it. Margaret screams as it lunges forwards, even as it makes its target known to be Nicole, who takes a bite in the knee. "Robbie Rottie" latches on, sinking in, as Nicole starts shouting. "OwowowowowoowOW this thing can hurt!"

THWAM! 10 DAMAGE!
MARGARET, ACTION!

"GO AWAY!" Margaret screams from below, as you casually overlook the whole thing, your jump long petering out into an inexplicable hover. Oh goodness gracious, how you would love to be able to actually hover.

"Margaret, it's not gonna go away until you beat it away!" She says. "We got this whole thing set up just to do that!

"I AM STILL NOT USED TO THIS!" She screeches. "You two are the ones getting into trouble all the time!"

"Well, do something!" you shout.

"Ow ow ow ow ow." Nicole says, rubbing her leg.

"WHAT?!" Margaret shouts.

"Just hit it with your book!" you respond.

"...Absolutely not! This is a rental! I can't have dog fur all over it!" Margaret shouts, indiginent.

"Well, if you don't, you're gonna have your blood all over it, so bite the bullet!"

"... FINE!" She screeches, marching over to the dog in an indiginous fury, whirling back the boo-
​

"OPERATOR!" Omniglot shouts.

The girl-Leah-blinks. She's surrounded by soldiers, half of her new allies are gone, and she's still confused.

"Operator. Memory was old. Very old. Dated over three years ago." Omniglot says. "We have much more to defragment. Or, would."

The girl tries speaking, like in the memory. Still nothing more than an irritating, pained shout. It only raised more questions. Also, she was kind of about to die.

"Operator. I recommend expanding your life force to achieve some kind of last goal." Omniglot quips.

Leah looks at the Godmodder... She thinks about her memories-or, her single memory. Two memories, actually-that of raiding the bank with Fenix, and the freshly defragmented one. How'd she get from being 'Leah' to being 'The Operator?' It confused her... It confused her too much, but something else seemed to click in her head.

Something like righteous indignation. She just got back the first of many memories and was now being told to throw her literal life away?! To feed this jerk's power?! Her face curdles like bad milk, properly angered for the first time thus far.

...But at the same time...

She looks around. Soldiers surround her with unfathomable firepower. The Godmodder-whoever that weirdo is, like, seriously, did he just barge in and declare himself the main character? From her perspective, it certainly sounds like it-it was all about getting revenge on the bank with these 'players' and then everyone was freaking out about Fenix and then everyone was going nuts about this 'Godmodder.' It sounded stupid, but he was absorbing... Souls?

...

The girl had an idea.

Life binds the soul, and the soul binds life, and such it is the prison of the flesh.

But it need not be so.

The girl flares up in glorious radiance, staring down the Godmodder...

...And flops dead without anything else ado, Omniglot vanishing into thin air. No final attack. No last hurrah. Nothing. Just dead?

...No. The Godmodder realizes it instantly. The rest do too, shortly thereafter; there's something different here.

Her soul. It's not there. It is not there! Her body decays into nothingness shortly thereafter this odd revelation, leaving no clues nor traces, not even good loot for the soldiers...

...The Godmodder senses something terribly, terribly wrong. Not a specific feeling, though, so much as a harbinger of impending doom. A souring of the victory. Is it a victory at all, then?

The Godmodder then brushes it all aside when he gets his HP-up as usual. Phew. That almost felt bad, for a split second. Still, what was that about...?

A giant book then descends from the heavens, bringing with it the holy omen of high school geography, frame burning from speed and force as it slams down unto the (former?) Bank of Actions, obliterating the Drakken Laser Drill in a single, calamitous clap.

...Oh.

Two signs fall from the heavens, politely asking the Slime and the Archangel to maul the Drakken Laser Drill, respectively.​
 
That(Other)OtherGuy you should probably make your action to buff the Last Ditch a mortal action. You're going to die anyway this turn, might as well sacrifice yourself to boost the power of the last action you'll make. And the Last Ditch can cause more damage than you can if you buff it enough.

As for myself...

Welp, it's over. We caused the GM a LOT of pain, but it's over. His MLG Quickcope is almost ready to fire. Well if I'm gonna die here, might as well go out in a blaze doing what I love...

FOCUS! ALL CP USED! !!MORTAL ACTION!!
MAKING BACON!

I pull out a lasso and, like a cowboy, I rope together the three surviving mythic solders within seconds and have them hogtied. Then I charge towards them, the reliable ol' Frying Pan Of Doom is in my hand. I reach them, and....

Suddenly the Frying Pan Of Doom has grown to several time it's size, big enough for all three mythic soldiers to lye in at once! Which they do. They themselves couldn't tell you how I got them on it, but in the chaos I did it. Now they're lying in a frying pan full of various exotic seasonings and cooking oils. Where am I myself though, I am nowhere to be seen? I am right under the Frying Pan Of Doom. And I'm going to put "go out in a blaze" *very* literally.

I 'overload' myself for the lack of a better word. I deliberately suppress any regenerativeness I may posses while flooding my body with raw life force and player power. Very quickly this proves too much and blindingly white flames of power erupt from various parts of my slowly-disintegrating body. And since I was under the Frying Pan Of Doom when I did this? I am the most overpowered camping stove in existence, and the Frying Pan Of Doom heats up. Quicky. The oil quickly starts bubbling very fiercely as the mythic soldiers scream in pain from getting literally cooked. The fire of raw power from my corpse reaches it's peak as the Frying Pan of Doom glows with a fierce red incandescence and various indescribable things start erupting out of the top of it, brought on by the absolutely intense conditions inside. Eventually of course I run out of life force and flesh to burn, and all that's left of my body is some very hot smoldering ashes. The Frying Pan Of Doom gradually cools down, but there is not much left of the mythic soldiers either.

Not much, and most of it is horrifically charred. But, due to a little bit of residual player power I had left floating over the pan before my sacrifice, some parts of the mythic soldiers have converted (despite the ridiculous temperatures) into perfectly cooked crispy bacon. And it's no ordinary bacon: The seasonings I added to the mythic solders have made it into LUCKY BACON, which for a brief period (just this turn) of time will cause a consumer to have much more luck, especially with random number generators. Who's this Lucky Bacon for, though? Certainly not for me, or the godmodder. The question is answered when a handful of Canada Geese suddenly appear and fly over the now-cooled Frying Pan Of Doom, picking up the Lucky Bacon as they go. They drop this bacon right in front of the Last Ditch, who eagerly eats it up (if it didn't have a gastrointestinal system before, it has one now because reasons). He's going to NEED that luck if he wants to one-shot the Wall Solder, which is probably by far the most powerful thing to be left standing by the start of the entity phase.

Mmmm, bacon.
 
Last edited:
Alright then, final attack

Firstly I use my charged CP to make a distraction I have been planning for quite a while: I create a huge bee, a really huge bee, I mean not just gigantic, there should be new words for how truly ginormous it is, if this were a normal planet it wouldn't even fit in the atmosphere. And insted of a normal bee's head it has Gorden Ramsay's vast perpetually screaming one, it's almost bigger than the rest of the bee and the face is stuck in a rictus of absolute fury. It seems to be approaching slowly but only due to how vast it is.

I use the CP from this turn to enchant my massivly oversized diety whip to hit him in the back of the head taking advantage of the confusion the previous action caused.

And finally I use my MORTAL ACTION, sacrificing my own soul to some distant elder bee god(the hum of the earth is the buzz of her wings) to deprive the godmodder of it and sacrificing all my stuff which is conveniently mostly based on bee based reality alteration to make one last attempt at bringing about my precious beeverse: I shout "IF ONE REMOVES A FINITE QUANTITY FROM AN INFINITE ONE IT REMAINS INFINITE TO THE SAME DEGREE, IF ONE REMOVES AN INFINITE QUANTITY FROM ONE OF THE SAME DEGREE THEN IT IS NOTHING! THUS {∞-bee=∞+0}-->{∞̶-bee=∞̶+0}-->{bee=0}. THUS ALL PLACES THAT DON'T CONTAIN BEES INFACT MUST CONTAIN BEES! Reality warps to meet my revilation as it realises it had made a mistake and it will now correct it via a finite yet arbitrarily large number of bees.
 
I was going to make this a smash post but RL happened now it's stuck at 700 words.

(Action...)(... Charges...?)

I choke as I begin to see how bleak the battlefield looks, fellow Players continue to sacrifice themselves to do as much damage to the PG forces and have done well...

Why... why is everyone Mortal Blasting?

Don't they have things they want to live for? Is this truly the end?!

...

"... Should I sacrifice myself too...?"

The thought that I was holding back let itself known, causing me to freeze.

A deep chill rises from me and seeped into my voice.

No... I can't... I won't go back to the me before... I... I have something to keep... Bonds and friends...

How... How can I betray all the bonds that I made! The promise made from Sushi, Rov and the Buns, the parting of the Cat Siths and Fennie, and the first bond that I made... Disco-Chan...

I gasp for breath as I notice that I was hyperventilating.

I have to live... I have to try to live! I can't leave those promises and bonds to finish! I won't! I will see them again!

"So... SO! I WON'T DIE HERE! AT LEAST NOT TO YOU!"

Lightning explodes out of my body as voidic forces claws at my body and continues to grab and rip pieces of me. Eventually, the void mass stops up to my neck, leaving scraps of my hoodie and scarf intact and instead covers my form in a layer of... darkness. words can't explain the pit that my seems to wrap my body but screams echos out as the soldiers that surround us claws their eyes out only to open voidic beast I can't comprehend. The mind splits, giving body last orders

I lift my arms only to feel nothing but I don't regret what I've subjected myself too. I smile as I recall the feeling of temporarily being [V] if only for a few seconds, but that will be all that I need as I rush the Godmodder recklessly. But I didn't and turn tailed, leaving the Body as the... distraction...

A hail of sparks burst from the clashes, the sparks shot out like a laser as it lit anyone to be engulfed in it. The Godmodder didn't budge from that strike though, but I didn't too. The voidic mass leap and grappled with him, latching on the first contact and grinding near endlessly. Sparks continue to generate from the odd friction that began to heat the area until the air exploded into plasma all in a thousandth of a second. I quickly raise a pinkie and continue to grapple with the Godmodder which seems to signal the plasma smother us in it. The battlefield continues to explode with light in slow motion as a second pass. I phase... a way out

The Void material continues to shield me as I can feel it eat away at the body. And with the plasma contained somewhere in the eldritch void, the void material simply eats it up, and through the minor spikes that manage to pierce the godmodder skin, it dumps the plasma into it. and the godmodder begins to see cotton candy and living sentient stars dance and frolic together as it manages to punch him drunk into a drunk angry daze. and with that minor opening made, I tackle him into the open nuzzle of the pressurized dimension-cutting water hose and turn it on. The water that comes out cleanly cuts a multitude of dimensional tears into the Godmodder and quickly pours out sea water that burns with the eternal pain from the deepest pits of salt hell, just to salt the wounds of course. somewhere, somewhere to the after...

By now, the head is almost encased in the void material but the body gives up the last sight of it flesh to the material and bulges out into a small part-time eldritch void titan that causes many of the soldiers' headgear to explode as the anti-eldritch component couldn't shield them from the incomprehensible mass. The army's screams delight the being holding what was me, but not-me and let's loose. soul... must get away... not to... modder... light... life... after...?

...

...

The voidic mass withers after it finishes its run, leaving just the body.
 
Last edited:
OOC: this was going to be a Smashpost, but IRL stuff happened, so now its this.
OOC Intent: firstly, kill any [PG] or [SR] entities left except the Godmodder Wall Soldier, than empower the heck out of the exit forcefield and other anti-leaving mechanisms, plus other fine detail stuff described in the last few sentences. Start where it says "In physical terms?"


(note: best viewed on desktop screens)

ASCENSION​
Well, well, well.

This is it.

Do it
​
So, I see you've dropped your old pretensions. Well, nothing is so constant as endings. It is time.


A Player. A individual of great creativity-derived abilities.
Something more than a entity, above entities, whilst all but the least of entities utterly excede any "normal" person.
Here I have a crown, a physical representation of the state of being King of the Hill. I t levers it's wearer up the Hill of power at the cost of making them more vulnerable.
Of course, it is meant for entities. Players are something more, as described higher in this pyra mid of exposition. However, in circumstances like this, could this, to, be something more?
^@&%%#^#$@&$*^***@%&&*%%@&%@@@!*#*%&^%%@!&!#*#^**^^*#%@%%&^*!^#$&#&&&%DO IT&$^!%*!@$@*^&$%!@*&!#%^^%^$@*@ *%%@&%@@@!*#*%&^%%@!&!#*#^**^^*#%@%%&^*

​
A tendril of my potentiality reaches into the crown, twisting it's nature; prioritizing the flare of the supernova over the permanence of the star. In the process, it's physical form seems to melt, than flare, then form a pillar of light. All the while, I marshal every bit of my power, all the way down to that innermost core by which my sentience retains integrity. Over the course of a fractured instant, I marshal my [MORTAL ACTION].

Then the pillar bends, draws together, and ultimately forms a circlet of light round my head. Meanwhile, my mortal shell glows and floats skyward, not in a mere physical sense but in some way even more important. For this moment, I more than King of the Hill.

I am a EMPEROR OF SKIES, a player both strengthened and weakened in the same way as a king of the hill. Also, I'm in the middle of my Mortal Action. Do the math. (1 Mortal Action X 2 = no not literally!)
​
​
MULTIPLIED MORTAL ACTION: DUALITY
​
"Time to put my money where my mouth is."

Having made considerable use of my player powers, it is time to draw upon my bottomless experiences as personification of those who enter and leave unnoticed. Since I have two Mortal Actions, I decide to take a two-part approach to the matter. 1 stream of power streams through the air. One goes underground. Let's start with the obvious one.



Portals open in the air. People I once knew swarm through the bank. Bullet fly, things are div/ided into their constituent pieces, some clever ass does something ridiculously clever with several dozens amplifiers + 1 kazoo + a thorough understanding of Bladesong and Heartsong (everyone thinks the Magic of Friendship is weak until they find out what happened to Discord), and as a result everyone [PG] or [SR] except the Godmodder (and the Wall Soldier, who is reserved for the Last Ditch) dies, if they haven't already. The rest of my dying attack goes elsewhere.

The equation is simple. 1 Mortal Action times x (insert appropiate number here) for Emperor of Skies equals x. x times 3 for the Horseman of War attacking = 2x (likely 6). Approx. 0.5 to 1 goes to cleaning the field and distracting the Godmodder. That leaves x -.5 to 1 (likely 5) Mortal Attack equivalents for my own little plan.

The Godmodder has many characteristics, dangerous and powerful. One of them, important but fractional, is his Freedom.

With power the likes of which even the Godmodder has seen but a few times, I CONCEPTUALLY OBLITERATE (which of course is a type of attack) the Godmodder's Freedom.

In physical terms? The forcefield preventing leaving is now ridiculously stronger. Right now, the Drakken Laser Drill wouldn't do [GORILLA]. Oh, and the same goes for the other anti-teleportation methods (which are of course recreated at their original strength, minus the weak spot of a single shot physical generator), not to mention the more esoteric measures in place against esoteric methods of leaving, and also a hole bunch of actual chains upon the Godmodder's body, mind, and soul constructed of similar material as, say a TerminatorBot. (it would take ages to break even with outside help)

Oh, and there's a entirely new set of restrictions against freedom of information. (no communicating for you!)

And as for any off switches? ha ha ha no.

Thus ends my final testament.
 
Last edited:
Eyowe: Death becoming an inevitability?

Eyowe: Hah. Never heard that before.

Eyowe takes a moment to recount what he has on his person: a near-broken Eyowean Greatsword, an unsimilarly-intact Godmodder Protection Suit, 8 CPs somehow still listed under his name, and himself. Then...

Eyowe: ...yeah, that would be quite an experiment, wouldn't it?
----------------------------------
MORTAL ACTION: Project Soulless
​
Eyowe deviates himself from his allies' attack and moves to a spot where he can work on this project in complete privacy. There, he begins work on an AI chip.

Barely a moment passes, and he has already coded in the basic features present in the average living being, such as limb movement, respiratory system, and such. Other advanced features, such as pain receptors and the capability to formulate strategies, are included as well.

Then comes the time for more advanced features to be coded in. In place of a functioning, life-replicating AI, Eyowe instead opts to create a command-based one, set to use all in its arsenal to solely obey him and his commands. Necessary information, such as the Godmodder and his forces, are also included in its memory. These are also finished in no time.

Following that, Eyowe adds in its first command, greatly doubting that he will be physically present to give it the moment the chip activates. This comes up in the form of a recorded audio being played to itself:

Eyowe: I doubt you'll question who I am, nor who you are. It's all in your programming.

Eyowe: First off, that pain you're experiencing? Get used to it. Pain will be necessary for your survival, or as I'd like to call it, prolonging your stay in this world.

Eyowe: Hah...

Eyowe: ...

Eyowe: ...right, your current itinerary.

Eyowe: Find me. Approach me for your next orders.

Eyowe: Avoid gaining the attention of the Godmodder until you find me, if possible. If you do get spotted, get rid of the witnesses if possible. If not, get away to the best of your abilities.

Eyowe: Should the occasion arise where you do find me, but it would mean exposing yourself to the Godmodder's forces, make sure it will be me who will be made aware of your presence first.

Eyowe: There will also be the rare occasion when others would attempt to wrestle control of you away from me. Resist them. Resist to your best abilities.

Eyowe: And should anyone attempt to falsely claim my identity as theirs, inquire them of a passcode. Should they fail to answer correctly, judgment shall be yours to make, though make sure they do stop claiming to be me.

Eyowe: As for what the passcode is?

Eyowe: ...

Pause Transmission

Eyowe gives himself time to think up of one, and so one does come in mind.

Resume Transmission

Eyowe:

...no sound seems to come out, but to both Eyowe and the AI, there was indeed one made, it's just not audible to those who do not have a Species Hearing Type with which the passcode's language can be heard in. The "normal" Species Hearing Type in this battlefield, sadly, is not one that hears this language.

Eyowe: Find me, and inquire me of the passcode. If I answer correctly, you'll know it's me.

Eyowe: Use all in that's in your arsenal to make this mission successful.

Eyowe: Onto miscellaneous things.

Eyowe: You are plenty powerful enough, but should an opportunity to gain more power presents itself to you, so long as it won't prove to be a later issue, whether it be of morals or of gaining more enemies, you are obligated to take it.

Eyowe: Accept any chance for benefits to be made, whether it be keeping possible allies alive, gaining the approval and aid of a separate party, or any such others.

Eyowe: Your capability might be more vast than what we normally have, but never grow the opinion that you are superior to the Godmodder, nor should you ever grow the thought of betraying me.

Eyowe: I leave it to you to use your judgment to weigh each of your decisions to the best of your abilities.

Eyowe: Lastly, and of least priority.

Eyowe: Get that BO off of that armor.

Eyowe: It's making us less stylish.

Eyowe: Now that all that's taken care of, I bid you good luck on this mission, Project Soulless.

End Transmission

Not revealed to the AI is a factory reset mechanism that only Eyowe knows how to activate.

With that, Eyowe finishes up the chip and, through inexplicable methods, inserts it into his mind, with it laying dormant for now.

Eyowe: ...onto the difficult part.

Eyowe summons all that he can muster, with the exception of his physical body, into a manifested sphere in front of him, perfect in its shape and shining white, the sheer power of a Mortal Blast, his spirit, his soul, whichever other essence of him, all converging into this sphere.

As Eyowe performs this act, his life is recalled into his thoughts:

From multiverses away, born an Irulean on the melting pot planet Eyowe, which his name is copied after, he was put on a pedestal by his ever-so-doting parents, wanting to see him grow up to become the most well-known figure in said planet, a "Poster Boy for Eyowe." Now, this is not a tale of "Parents are too strict and uptight, so the child runs away from his responsibility." In truth, his parents were truly doting to a point of being wholesomely cringe. Other than that, his life with his parents were nothing too special.

Then comes the time where he left them to pursue his education, as one does. There, Eyowe proved to be quite reclusive, not spending time participating in any social activities and preferring to be left to his own devices. It is then that fate introduced him to a person whom he will know for a long time: Krill13...species naming conventions. Having been put into the same dormitory room as this person, Eyowe initially viewed him as too energetic and naive after having rejected many of his invitations to, as Eyowe puts it, "practices that will amount to nothing in the future." Time passed by, and Eyowe learned that this person shares the same interest of working with technology as he does. Afraid of being outdone by this person he came to view as merely annoying, Eyowe scoured through Krill's work to reassure himself that he stands as the superior of the two. And reassured he is; Eyowe's work is most definitely superior over Krill's average handiwork. Still, Eyowe finds that he might be worth working with and begins inviting him to his projects, gauging how much useful he can be. Krill himself had no issue following Eyowe's directions, what with him definitely being the smarter of the two, and it's not like morals will be broken if he does follow him. Rinse and repeat, and Eyowe ultimately acknowledges Krill's potential in this subject. His quirky attitude still leaves much to be desired from Eyowe.

And so the time comes when Eyowe finishes his education and moves on into the real world, landing a job as an average office worker and being able to buy himself a house in the suburbs. Tinkering with anything technological became a hobby to him. Other than that, his life at this period was nothing too special.

One particular day, the doorbell rang clear throughout the house, signaling the presence of a visitor. Eyowe walked to open the door, and a sense of plain surprise washes over his expression as he sees the identity of the visitor: it's Krill. As it turns out, he had no place to stay in and is wondering if he can "crash in." Eyowe gives this choice an internal debate, concluding woth him allowing Krill to stay. Belongings were unpacked, ground rules were set, and so Eyowe's life with Krill13 begins.

As it turns out, life with Krill is rather...unique, compared to Eyowe's prior one. For one, they've both begun tinkering with technology bought from high-end brands(which, in the "normal" technological viewpoint, would look like they are handmade by a team of technological gods). A sense of companionship rapidly grew between the two, and before they knew it, they've reached a certain level that would change the dynamic of their friendship. Krill's quirkiness is an aspect of his personality that hasn't exactly left him. Combine that with the friendship they currently have...

...and Krill introduces pranks into this mix. The first ones were rather normal fare, fake spiders planted in Eyowe's suitcases, whipped cream on his hand and a tickling feather to his nose, and other such simple pranks. Eyowe himself would indulge on retaliating from these pranks with some of his own. It's unknown to both of them how it happened, but the levels at which these pranks were grounded in escalated to levels where the victim could actually end up dying. The technology with which they were working with alleviated the repercussions of death, only leaving the prankee with the normal sour response to being pranked. Doesn't matter if they were ran over by particularly heavy vehicles, dumped in extremely radioactive substances, had their existence ripped in shreds, or are simply thrown into oblivion, they would be able to pull one another out and respond to this turn of events with the typical post-prank response.

One particular day, a sleeping Eyowe was woken by Krill in a panicking state. According to him, their Multiversal-Warp Machine have been showing recent signs of disrepair, hence why Eyowe was being summoned to take a look on it. Unbeknownst to Eyowe, this is yet another prank. Clad only in his night robe and fluffy slippers, he is directed to where the alleged damage is: inside the warp chamber. The moment Eyowe entered the chamber, Krill swiftly snuck away from it and into the control console with what can be assumed is a mischievous grin on his face...hard to tell with all these species-difference thing. After much scouring for damages in the chamber, Eyowe finds none. Realization struck him almost immediately, but it was too late.

Eyowe: KR-

He is cut off as the machine whisks him away from the chamber.

And so he was thrust into the "real world" variant of the Godmodder War. Unfortunately, he hasn't gotten to make much of an impact before he died and was brought into the Hexagonafield with a slight lapse in memory, forgetting his time in the "real world," however brief that moment was.

A quick recount of the more recent memories, of his time in the Hexagonafield, then flash by, and Eyowe's thoughts return back to the present.

​


Thinking about it, this set of current events is nothing too severe in comparison to what he has gone through before. An expression forms itself on Eyowe's face: one of a wry smile performed by one with Eyowe's facial features.

Within the time frame when reminiscence was on full focus, the converging ball, consisting of everything Eyowe can offer, intensified in power more and more, and intensify it continues doing as Eyowe himself begins to fell the drawbacks of converting as much essence of himself as he can into raw power. Drawbacks mostly consist of becoming weaker and weaker, hardly able to keep a grip on consciousness. Nevertheless, Eyowe does not stop. He is willing...no, he IS making an effort on drawing everything that can be drawn from him into raw power.

Eyowe ponders why he is going this far in this pursuit of defeating the Godmodder. If all he wanted was freedom from the Hexagonafield, he could've accepted a certain offer of the Godmodder's and waited for Krill to pick him up from whichever afterlife he ends up in.

He then remembers why: he's interested in seeing this to the end. He's interested in what may come after that. He's interested in what may come before that. He's interested in killing the Godmodder. Upon being reminded of this reason, that expression he was holding intensified, as if to indicate a growth in his audacity whilst his physical body weakens.

Fantasies begin filling his mind. Power, pride, riches, respect, and all such common objects of pursuit all serve to fuel his arrogance with ecstasy to further combat the urge to show any signs weakness from him. His expression continues morphing as well, becoming more distinguishable as that of a madman's.

Then, one drifting thought comes into mind: he needs to return the favor. Not to the Godmodder, but to Krill. This sparked newer thoughts of revenge serving to give Eyowe the last push, allowing him to add an unconscious warp action as soon as power infusion ends.

With that, a positively gigantic sphere of power lies in front of Eyowe. Not a moment soon after, that sphere returns back into Eyowe's body, breaking down into smaller specks as they infuse themselves into this body.

With that done, Eyowe's body is now a superpowered being with its mental functions operated by an AI of Eyowe's design, yet laying dormant for now. In armor, it is clad in the Godmodder Protection Suit. In weaponry, it is armed with the Eyowean Greatsword.

This body then unconsciously warps itself to a place Eyowe would not know of, as he himself did not specify this certain location, only two loose conditions: a place far from and can't be traced from this current site, and does not immediately alert the Godmodder's forces whilst in its dormant state.

The former host himself, meanwhile, has been ejected from the body as soon as power infusion ended and is now left in a shriveled-up state, ripe for the picking.

With body and soul separated, it is now safe to call this body an Entity.

This Entity, wherever it ended up in, opens its eyes, but only sees black for the moment. What follows is a great surge of pain coursing through it, complements of the Godmodder Protection Suit. Immediately following that is a certain recorded audio winning this Entity's attention over the pain.

...

With that done, the Entity's senses all activate. What comes next is...
 
Last edited:
The End...?
  • Threadmarks
    • Crusher48 said:
    FINAL ACTION: I use everything left in my inventory, except the Bost Stone, to create the Ultimate Paradox Bomb, Bites the Paradox, which is placed on top of the Vault. When any action would open the vault, access the spectacles, or attempt to disarm or bypass the bomb in any way, the bomb triggers, creating an Entropic Paradox and then rolling back time to when it was deployed. However, when time is rolled back in this way, the Entropic Paradox that was rolled will carry back. Thus, as the Godmodder continues to attempt to get into the Vault, more and more Entropic Paradoxes will occur, until he's eventually facing hundreds of Paradoxes and will have no choice but to fall back. There is no way to get into the Vault against this, and it will instantly trigger a rollback along with an extra Paradox. Even I can't disable it, and the Temporal Guardians will just make it worse if they try.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    No way to get into the vault against this? So it makes it impossible to get into the vault... that sounds super OP! The godmodder will just ignore it.

    Dragon of Hope?!? said:
    Why is a lot of my cp gone? I had around 17 before, and just charged 1.

    I use all of my actions, as well as all of my life, to put the Godmodder into a pocket dimension, that I then collapse, destroying everything inside.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Right now, most of your CP is in the DEATH Stasis Pod. Also, your charge last turn didn't go through because of the godmodder's screeching.

    But that doesn't matter! Because you use ALL YOUR LIFE to put the godmodder inside a SELF-DESTRUCTING POCKET DIMENSION! At the last moment, the godmodder manages to switch himself out with one of his Elite Mythic-Tier Soldiers, who dies in the void of the self-destructing pocket dimension! Lost forever...

    DragonofHope has been slain!

    +2 Current HP to the godmodder!

    That(Other)OtherGuy said:
    Severed hand, Soulflayer hand, Shocking Shieldrazer
    Voodoo Doll, HP^Sword, Old Control Panel (RGB buttons)

    The Third Eye grants 2 abilities: Seen Through Their Eyes and Cut Through the Lies.
    Seen Through Their Eyes allows you to select 2 people, Person A and Person B. Person A is the "giver", and his memories will be searched for whatever you want to see, from their perspective. Person B is the "recipient", and they will see the memories. Neither person can be yourself, and its entirely possible for one or the other of the two selected to dodge/run away and get out of it - you'll almost definitely need to hold them in place.
    Meanwhile, Cut Through The Lies can detect if a statement is a lie or true - "technically" false of true rules apply. It also detects entire statements, rather than specific pieces of a statement. It isn't very advanced. It also needs to be "primed" before usage (EX: Ask an NPC a question, then state in your post that you "Cut Through the Lies" on their response.).
    Debt:
    Karp: 3
    JOE: 7

    I point out that the Drakken Laser Drill is huge, slow, unmoving, and now glued to the floor with a big red Target sign on it thanks to me. Dodge reduced probably to 0.

    Ugh. What a waste of a perfectly good gun. Only 6 shields. Whatever.
    I use the Shocking Shieldrazer to absolutely obliterate the Drakken Laser Drill's shields and redirector (and also do about 14 damage total. Magical.)


    I flip the Godmodder the bird. The bird, while flipping, does a majestic pirouette at such a high speed that it creates a vortex across time and space, summoning the banner ad for DLE's second act: of [thyme] and [ ]. The canon welding with DLE is bad enough. Worse still, the welder itself just so happens to be firing directly into the Godmodder's liver, via 7th dimensional space-shenanigans.
    Then the bird lands in the Godmodder.
    Not on.
    In.
    The little mechanical drinky bird thing (you know the one) bends and drink some of the Godmodder's brain juices.
    It un-dips.
    It dips again.
    It undips.
    And so on, and so forth until somehow, the Godmodder's brain dries up and dies.
    The Godmodder survives dying, of course, because he's the Godmodder, but he does not survive unharmed.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Sippy birds! THE HORROR! 1 damage to the godmodder!

    Bill Nye said:
    ... sorry if I am a little less enthusiastic this time around. something bad happened to me emotionally so I apologize.

    Action 1-3: so... this is how it ends huh. never thought I will die like this... this is it... I feel like I may lose. hell, I AM going to lose... nothing I do is going to do anything... I fall on my knees. I lone tear runs down my cheek. I wait for the upcoming demise...

    but... something is keeping me going. Something is telling me to never give up. and I know who it is. It's my Determination. I have a conversation with it:

    "I can't do it. He will kill me. I am afraid..."
    "You have to keep going! it's for the sake of everyone!"
    "    But the Godmodder is going to insta-kill everyone any minute now..."
    "While that may be true. There is one thing you can do."
    "and what's that?"
    "... Showing them what you got!"


    MORTAL BLAST!: DETERMINATION


    My eyes start to glow bright red. I start to float up into the sky. I bring out all of my weapons. I no longer feel like in control. I don't feel anything, I don't FEAR anything. I speak,

    "THIS IS FOR EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING IN THIS EXISTENCE!!"

    I rush over to the Drakken Laser Drill and smirk. My swords burn with so much power. It slashes at it, then finally merging into a giant sword and stabbing right through the generator. Next, my bow and arrow. I fire my bow more times than I can count at the enemy which then finally ending with a ginormous arrow hitting it causing a massive explosion. Lastly, My fist and kicks. I put on (anti-laser drill) gauntlets and (anti-laser drill) boots and I kick and punch the crap out of the enemy. I start to feel weak, I am losing power. But I give it my all. after a fury of blows, I perform the final smash of a MEGA-TON PUNCH and a DRAGON KICK.

    after all is said and done. I fall on the floor gasping for air. My determination talks to me,

    "You did it! you may done a little damage to it but you did it!"
    "yeah but I am going to die..."
    "don't worry. I have a feeling you are going to be brought back..."
    "you sure? also, when could you talk?"
    "Yes, I am sure. As to answer your second question, I will tell you when this thing blows over. But for now, rest. you did well."

    I draw my final breath. I go limp.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    OOC: Good luck with whatever's happening, Bill Nye.

    TOG having removed the attack shields, you put ALL YOUR POWER into destroying the Drakken Laser Drill! The Godmodder, too fast for anyone to even see, concentrates and puts up a barrier - but, against your power, it only blocks some of the damage! 500,000 damage to the Drakken Laser Drill! One more good hit will destroy it!

    Bill Nye has been slain!

    +1 Current HP to the godmodder!

    +15% godmodder maximum attack damage!

    JOEbobobob said:
    It's over. the Godmodder's ready to kill us. but he can't kill our legacys, can he? not as easily as the person, at any rate. and yet the fragility of the person leaves much to be desired...

    my body is still sitting there, in a pool of my own innards. but mortal actions mean the energy spent keeping me alive(???) goes into other things.
    so the body stands up. the broken legs hold it up, and it looks at the Godmodder.
    pauses.
    blinks.
    pauses again.
    and then begins to slowly, painfully, shift its mouth into the crude shape of a smile.
    well, more of a grimace.
    fat and muscle seem to be slowly draining away from the body, and face.
    behind remains only skin and bone.
    sunken eyes, a skull-like face. it seems maintaining the players body included maintaining muscles and stuff...?
    the form then half-collapses, slumped but still standing, a grim smile still upon their face.
    well that was anti-climactic, aye?
    well, let's get on to better and more important things, yeah? this action's basically a joGurgle
    with a gurgle, then a loud splash, a mass of something dark and purple launches itself out of the living corpse's mouth.
    the force of this pushes the corpse over, onto its back, with a squelch.
    the purple mass shivers, and rolls its way back, back toward the still-living corpse that vomited it up.
    the mass arrives, unnoticed in the crossfire.
    the corpse is still living, but now conserves its energy, perhaps in hopes of destroying the purple thing. being mortally wounded doesn't really help with maintaining logical thought or following through on precommitments.
    but it's too slow, its sense of time distorted. the purple blob arrives it, and before it can react, rushes through the corpse's skull, through the eyes and the mouth, leaving behind voids.
    moments tick past, the battle moving on without them.
    the living corpse loses this fight,and thin purple threads, fibers and strings snake out, covering the outside and likely also the inside of this structure (What little inside the corpse has, at any rate).
    the threads skitter, and find purchase on the somehow already-rotting flesh, and it pulls itself up.
    the eyes are now hollow holes, dark purple. the mouth, a gaping void.
    in the eyes quickly grow twin pods of purple fiber, which then turn into shining pink spheres, almost glassy-looking.
    Tainted Player created. it quickly places the original indestructible shard of the taint into its pocket... which somehow transfers it back into wherever it was before this. don't question, please. it'll be faster that way, and you seem to want this to be over soon, given the skeledop you tried to pull.
    purple drops of mucous drip out of their gaping maw, and then there is a screech, the figure asserting its existance, or maybe just testing its vocal cords.
    it doesn't do anything else, though, and is so ignored for another minute, the purple heart of the taint within it pulsing, glowing, brightenning, compressing, dimming, brightening further...
    it screeches again, and this time does something. it blasts into the air, bright yellow-white trails of light behind it,a flickering harness on its torso. outside the range of whatever's supressing dimensional transport, it levitates in place.
    the tainted player stabs an arm into its own stomach, tearing what flesh remained, and pulls out three glowing bulbs with many leaves attached. it tosses them away, and they slowly float down, but only slowly. the bulbs swell, and become rifts into other planets.
    on the world of Exilair, its slaverbots compounds already pulverized by earthquakes, almost a third of this tainted beings mass shoots out. picking an unused portion of the planet, perhaps a salt mine where the slaverbots and slaves both died, or the slaves were sleeping... somewhere the good guys won't miss, at any rate, the blob lands, in a shaded crevice. and, as taint is wont to do, it begins to spread. first, it fills the caves. unseen cracks, and such. then, it creates another spot directly opposite it on the planet... tainted land is a fully vertical infinite height stack, after all. that tainted spot expands, distracting forces while this taint expands itself more, everywhere in its section. it breaks into salt mine 616753, the one it arrives near. the slaves are freed. the sickly or excessively injured probably wouldn't survive anyway, and are consumed, becoming full-health Tainted Miners. the others storm out, aided it by taint harming the robots. once beaten into scrap, each robot is taken control of... this variety of taint is designed to manipulate machines, you see, in addition to biology. it comes at the cost of reduced magical capabilities, but there's none to be found on Exlair, and these robots will serve to expand it further away without leaving clear lines of taint to its heart.

    In the Distant necromantic study, in the world with the Telhaki Elves, a place now devoid of Godmodder influence, for a time at least, a different blob of taint lands. it immediately swells to many times the size. yes, the magical runoff here is exquisite. taint, you see, is normally formed by overloading a world with unstable magic, the runoff of inefficient experiments, and so on. the harm to the worlds aura manifests in taint. this taint blob has heightened magical abilities, at the cost of reduced ability to infect higher lifeforms,like the elves. their world will look strange, after it's done, but they'll be fine... on the other hand, waste will no longer be wasted, and the taint is smart. it will play in give and take,helping and being helped. the taint swells more and more as it finds more leftovers from the massive spell, and overtakes this world. the elves worry for a time, but the Godmodder is a large threat, and they need every advantage they can get- like the very ground attacking his troops, or all animals gaining power and an intense distaste for Godmodder forces, or the trees ceasing to burn in flames.

    In arctic reposition station #5082, another blob lands. the taint here has the abilities of both the others, though it took more energy to create as a result. the prisoners are long gone, but the taint quickly infests their room. then, the nearby corridor. then, it begins to find bodies. corpses of the soulrazer troops guarding it, some still holding rifles. it takes hold of them, puppeting their bodies. first, the bodies explore, finding ruined technology, lifters, generators, mech suits, mostly not mech suits, and then... jackpot. it finds a boat, or a plane, or a spaceshit. a method of high-speed travel. each puppet gets one, until they're all gone. the spaceships are infested with taint, and do not report to the godmodder's servers. nobody notices as, in the ruined and smouldering station, there's a short flurry of activity as the taint spreads. if spaceships, to other planets. abandoned ones, preferably. otherwise, other landmasses, and facilities are scouted. when one is found, the taint will amass its forces, creating what it can without a base- tainticles on structures and tainted goo are mostly its limit, though wood is relatively easy to find, and allows for continual creation of tainted spores... anyway, it spreads until spaceships, then abandoned planets. the taint will become a force to be reckoned with... and the tainted figure, still with some mass, snaps shut the portals and sends them flying downwards at the field. they all miss uh latula or something, but they look like they could of hit. muddying the trail, you know. to muddy it further, the tainted figure(s remains) makes a big show of trying to retrieve some old entity... like examon or something.... from the eternal stasis machine. this obviously fails because not even godmodder can dewit. but they don't really try... their power is spent by now, and the fall down, down, down to the floor of purgatory... and even getting in someones way is not granted to them, the tainted being getting blown off course and out of the way to a remote corner of purgatory by a gust of unlucky wind.
    in the wake of Piono's attack, and whatever else other people do, a single extra facility shutting down, some oddly-colored spots from satellites... these things won't be noticed for a while. the world of the telhaki is free of [PG] influence for now, and so unsupervised. and who cares about what happens to the mostly broken-down facilities of Exilair? or some random planets with ancient ruins? nobody. there's more important things to worry about, divine smiting and ghouls and hellpits and mechanical failure and the charmzard glotching.


    Summarized: I mek taint. 3 type of taint apear in 3 places in godmoder empyre. this taint spread and be intelegent. by time godmoder is notice, it much bigger. trick w/ mised atk
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Taint is now spreading through the godmodder's empire. You do hope this won't end up making the regions impossible to reclaim later.

    JOEbob has been slain!

    +2 Current HP to the godmodder!
    -5 actions of debt owed to JOEbob by the godmodder!

    The Godmodder: Ah, yes. I am now debt-free.

    The Godmodder: I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders.

    The Godmodder: It's a pity none of the rest of you will get to feel like that. Since you won't live long enough to pay off your student loans.

    Ranger_Strider_ said:
    This is our last hurrah eh?.... I 'll strike to assist in freeing captives or slaves throughout his empire..... And perhaps a little more. Gotta expand Piono's legacy, no?
    FOCUS!
    Let Freedom Reign!
    I reach into my chest, pull out my heart, and crush it. I point at the sky.
    Let my words be heard from the glory of heaven to the fires of hell and everywhere in between!
    Let freedom reign! Let it reign across dimensions, from gods to devils, from champions to slaves.

    Minor gods: Are you content just hiding away like cowards, waiting until the Godmodder comes for you? Is that the kind of life you wish to live? I say fight! Join with your fellow gods, with Players, and with all races across the universe to fight him. Even now he hunts you like animals. Together we have hope/

    Devils: Fight! If not for freedom than your own selfish greed. If the Godmodder eliminates the gods and the Players, and enslaves the entire universe, what would you do? No souls would go to Hell, they would all just become the Godmodder's servants and slaves. None would even make a deal with you, Lucifer. So I say fight! Fight for your greed and selfish wants.

    Champions: You are the strong. You either work for him willingly for the glory of battle, or are forced. But what glory is there in these battles? Of enslaving people who can hardly fight back, and crushing those who can't defend themselves? There is none. So Fight! Fight for the oppressed, the lowly and the weak. The Godmodder is the ultimate tyrant: who better to fight?

    Slaves: You are the lowly ones. The weak and oppressed. But you have value. The Godmodder and his allies are few compared to all of you together! Steal from his grasp your freedom, save your homes, take your lives back! Weaken his tools, break his weapons, rip and tear for every last inch!

    To all others: Rally together. Prepare for war. If we do not stand united now, he will just pick us off one by one, until you are the only one left, so... Join the fight!

    Men here! Give the Godmodder hell for me! Archangel and Horseman of War! This is our last stand, but it need not be yours! Escape to your factions, and prepare to fight!     I crumple over, dead by my own mortal strike.

    tldr: Sent a message across the multiverse. Was psychic, shattered mental blocks and GM controls. Attempted to inspire and rally the people, building off of Piono's blaze of glory.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Your message goes through the multiple planes of existence. All who hear it are inspired. Everyone who has suffered from the godmodder's reign hears it. And especially the demons hear it.

    You don't know who was inspired. You don't know how many will actually do anything.

    But surely, somebody will do something.

    Ranger_Strider has been slain!

    +3 Current HP to the godmodder!

    That(Other)OtherGuy said:
    Severed hand, Soulflayer hand, Voodoo Doll, HP^Sword, Old Control Panel (RGB buttons)

    The Third Eye grants 2 abilities: Seen Through Their Eyes and Cut Through the Lies.
    Seen Through Their Eyes allows you to select 2 people, Person A and Person B. Person A is the "giver", and his memories will be searched for whatever you want to see, from their perspective. Person B is the "recipient", and they will see the memories. Neither person can be yourself, and its entirely possible for one or the other of the two selected to dodge/run away and get out of it - you'll almost definitely need to hold them in place.
    Meanwhile, Cut Through The Lies can detect if a statement is a lie or true - "technically" false of true rules apply. It also detects entire statements, rather than specific pieces of a statement. It isn't very advanced. It also needs to be "primed" before usage (EX: Ask an NPC a question, then state in your post that you "Cut Through the Lies" on their response.).
    Debt:
    Karp: 3
    JOE: 7

    The last Ditch truly is our final hope. Time to give it the best shot conceivable.
    I give the last ditch several superior scopes, each one hand crafted by priests of the highest order of the highest orders of the highest of civilizations. As you might guess, they are all high when crafting them.
    I once took superman to the frigid planet of Iceworld, and ask him to use his laser vision. On iceworld, the temperature is so far *below* absolute zero that physics ceases all movement. Physics, in fact, died long ago in the great war against the frost demons on Iceworld. Frostbite is a real jerk.
    Under these supernaturally cold conditions, even lasers freeze (making warfare very difficult). Superman's laser vision froze solid. I took his crystallized ocular beams and thanked Superman for his work. Unfortunately, he was already dead at the time.
    Behold. Literal laser-sight. Crystallized. I hand them to the Last Ditch.
    I once visited an alternate universe where the tank was named the barrel, by the British instead of the Americans. Interesting Etymology, tank. Look it up some time. Anyways, I used my natural affinity with a specific species of tank (barrel, there) to commune with the TOGOD, who provided me with a TOG CDXIII: the worlds longest tank (barrel). Longer, even, than the legendarily long TOG XLII. And that one was XL.
    I provide this incredibly long barrel to the Last Ditch.
    I take out my DrizzleFur'Shizzle brand MAXIMUM LUCK d20s. Dice which, thanks to the proper application of several portents, air benders, vacuum chambers and ducks, have never rolled a single natural 20 in their lifetime. In fact, this has caused them to have had all their natural 1s through 19s rolled out, meaning that they can now only roll 20s as per the ancient DnD magics that the dice function on.
    I give the MAXIMUM ROLL D20s to the Last Ditch.
    I toss several billion bottles o' exp at the Last Ditch, who spends all the levels earned in the Rogue class for maximum critical murderage.
    I stick my voodoo doll right in front of the the world's longest barrel. When the Ditch attacks, I'll be instantly killed (in a manner that wont block the attack itself in any way, of course).
    My mortal action will maximize the Last Ditch's instant kill chance for this one attack.
    My second life will have been worth something.

    "Please, Last Ditch. You *are* our last ditch attempt. And my final hope to be useful... to have actually helped, even if in some small, and probably insignificant way when compared to people like Piono or Carleah or whomever else. Please. Don't screw this up. I... don't want to die for nothing..."

    I order beg the last ditch to attack the drakken laser drill, or if it has died already, the wall soldier or, if minibosses count as bosses for somehow, the strongest PG entity alive at the time.
    Conditional entity orders work, right?

    Anyways, with that done, I sit down and try and calm myself in preparation for death.
    I don't calm down.
    Fortunately, its over rather soon anyways.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Last Ditch's accuracy is upgraded! ...To 40%! It will target the toughest thing it can.

    Evonix said:
    Dispite your memory I did the mana flowers while in limbo with the bank of actions, also I'm listed twice in the player stats? And you didn't list my new legindary weapon. Also I accidentally doubleposted because I thought the first one was lost. Meh on the mana flowers actually they ain't worth shit if I don't have the mana bees.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    You... never got a legindary weapon? Unless you're counting the godsnakecorpse, in which case, its still there, its just unlisted.

    Well, let's say you have the mana flowers, but they'll only appear again if they become relevant once you get the mana bees.

    (Also, thanks for telling me about the double-listed Player list thing. I fixed it. Turns out MooGoestheCow actually had the same problem!)

    The_Nonexistent_Tazz said:
    [MORTAL ACTION]

    "Operator... Unfortunately, it appears it is our time."

    The girl looks up at the Godmodder.

    "... Operator, I have defragged one final memory. Transmitting."

    The girl blinks, turns to Omiglot, and-


    You wake up. You are in your bed, your room, your house, your street, your neighborhood, your city, your life.

    You slam a hand down on the buzzer calling you to reality, hard. As much as you'd rather not. The date is September 18th, 2015. Nothing of note. No birthdays of anyone you know, no major holidays to observe, and its a weekday, though it is at least a friday. Nothing of importance, other than that.

    You will yourself to leave the eternal comfort of the bed, warm and stifling as it is, and turn on the lamp to illuminate your room. Messy, messy, messy... You always say you'll clean it up, and you never do. Why bother? You know where everything is, anyways.

    "LEEEEEEEAAH! Breakfast!" A voice calls from downstairs-hoarse, harsh, but maternal. You hear your name, and obey the call of what smells to be bacon, shifting through a closet full of clothes.

    "DON'T FORGET THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" The voice from below adds. Your face falls. The fire extinguisher. The voice is pyrophobic. Immensely so. Your father tried to put her in an asylum, or something, but beyond her immense inability to live in a house without a fire extinguisher on every person and in every room, she functions well and good, so that failed. You think that caused the divorce. That or her smoking. You like your father better, but you like your mother's cooking better.

    "I'm coming!" You shout, putting on your school clothes. Red hoodie, because it would be cold. Blue jeans, because why not. Your shoes are still soaking after that dunk into the lake, yesterday, so you figure your hiking boots are sufficient, if altogether ulitarian. Then, the glasses-you need them to read, and textbooks don't unblur themselves for farsighted people. You finally snatch up the Fire Extinguisher-your mother would flip if you didn't have it on you, visibly. For whatever reason. She hasn't even taught you how to use it-she just wants it on your person so she can use it, in case of a fire. Thankfully, you've learned how to thwack rude dudes right and proper with it. You've never needed to actually use it for its indended purpose, though, so you've forcibly welded additional metal onto it, just to make it a better bludgeon, because that's all it's good for, just a stupid bludgeon. If you could use it to put out any fire, it'd be the burning trainwreck that is your life.

    Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

    Your life is stupid.

    Anything else...? Right. The gift from your father. It's one of the most important things in the world to you-the Technical Ring. You record epic moments, crazy stunts, and wild attacks with it, and then, after a lot of practice and a lot of bruises, you, slowly, replicate the movement for your own purposes. You've had a lot of crazy times escaping punks with super jumps straight out of kung-fu flicks, but your superior jumping skills are all you have to show for your work with this thing, for now. Still, you love it to death, and you've got a load of other things you'd like to learn. Someday. Sometime. Somewhere that isn't school.

    Fully equipped and ready for the day, you figuratively burst down the door and head downstairs. Bacon, as advertised-and eggs coated in pepper. Standing over them, a woman, already prepared for the day in full business attire, a black suit sharp as a blade, a red-and-black tie yearning for the blood of competitor businesswomen, blonde hair tucked in a short bun, horned glasses softly glaring the features of a hopeless chain smoker, with a dull beige purse containing a Fire Extinguisher (among other, more sane items) dangling from her left shoulder. Your mother.

    You dislike your mom for a lot of reasons, chain smoking and crazy-tier pyrophobia being two, but her cooking isn't one of the other reasons. "Morning, mom."

    "Good morning, Leah... Fire Extinguisher, check. You didn't misplace the one in your room, right?" She asks.

    "No, mom," you say, sitting down on the dining room table and immediately chowing down on your breakfast.

    "Good, good, good," She says, rushing off. "Your bookbag's by the door, sweetie. I'm going to have to go to work early, so you can see yourself to the bus stop, right?" She says.

    "Sure," you say, absentmindedly enjoying dead pig. You then slowly realize what that statement means. "Wait, what?"

    "There's been an emergency of some kind, honey," She says. "Something nasty has cropped up, apparently."

    "Something... Nasty?" You say, in a tone of delicious interest. Considering she said tornados were merely 'bad,' something nasty was either a failed attempt at learning slang or a very concerning matter, indeed. No-one argues the weather with a weatherperson.

    "Yes... And confusing too, but basically, there's signs of a hurricane," she's said.

    "Uhh, in the midwest?" You respond.

    "That was my response," She replies. "They've checked and re-checked it, though, but as of the last hour my coworkers have been convinced that a hurricane is about to whirl on through. Not a tornado-a full-on class five hurricane. Of course, I'll just have to figure out which of those faulty machines is malfunctioning this time, and everything ought to sort itself out, but they're freaking out like headless chickens. My boss said they'd dock my pay if I didn't show up, so..."

    "OK then," you reply, a noteworthy bitterness tainting your voice. "Have a nice day."

    "You too, sweetie," she responds, walking out the door without further ado.

    The bacon stops tasting so wonderfully bacon-y. Your mother drove you to the bus stop-for a reason. A very, very good reason...

    You sigh. You carve through your plate, attacking the food like a soldier at war, as if every bite could be your last-and preparing for one hell of a chase. They would be all over you, and you would find one more reason to make sure you always get a good house in a good neighborhood over a good car. 'Intimidation factor' your butt. Thanks again, mom.

    You don't bother trying to look subtle, once you're done. You wash your dish (mom would freak out if you didn't), down a glass of orange juice, wash that too, grab your backpack, and whip out your Fire Extinguisher, hungering for the screams of a dying fire but also willing to settle for the blood of crazy teenage hooligans. Maybe this time, your mom will realize she can't let you go alone, no matter what. 'A bit of a keruffle,' your butt.

    You open the door with the spare house key, and make sure you put it back in that subtle, hand-sized black box behind the bush at the front of your house-its hiding place. You can't let that key leave the hiding place, or mom will freak out at you. Even if you didn't move it. Especially if you didn't. She assumes that you told someone, rather than someone finding out.

    You are going to destroy her car one of these days, set fire to her house, and laugh at her face as child services takes you away to one of those criminal institutions. She'd be lingering with the shame of it for, like, a month. Maybe you'd go to jail for it. Maybe you'd meet your dad there, and it wouldn't be gender-separated. Maybe you'd be a stupid idiot to think that. As in, certainly. You cast a wary eye over the cracked pavement and the pale sidewalk, weeds marring every lawn that isn't your own, a broken neighborhood, a broken street, broken houses, broken families. Fitting that your mom would move here, rather than anywhere sane. The wind whips in your face as you pull up the hood-perhaps they wouldn't recognize you on the way over, think you're a boy? Heh, no. No way. Not with the Fire Extinguisher in your hands. 'Safety hazard' your butt.

    You keep the Fire Extinguisher firmly in your hands as you walk along, careful to occasionally turn your head and make sure, absolutely, positively sure, that they are not following you, even as the wind lashes out, chilling you through your heavy clothes. You used to live somewhere warmer than this-somewhere nice, tropical, uptown, not down in the sticks. The midwest may not suck, but this place, it does. You may as well live in a trailer park-they'd be more open, at least. Here, on this street, people act like they're middle class and live like they're below the poverty line. Except you and your mom. And they know it.

    Minutes pass with only the sound of your footsteps and the howl of the wind breaking the silence. Then, the sound of two more pairs of feet behind you, as sudden as a ghost. You turn your head, extinguisher ready-and sigh in relief.

    "Leah! Damn. Mom's got her keister in a knot, or somethin'?" Says Margeret-a brunette with twirly hair and a large nose, taller than you by a few inches. Freckled, hazel-eyed, friendly, and clutching a book.

    "Some kind of work emergency. They'd dock her pay if she didn't go," you say.

    "That sucks," says Nicole. She almost looks like your twin, but she's a bit shorter than you, and by golly, she almost has this fey, inexplicable air about her. She always seems to glow, smile, no matter the situation. She keeps a hand tucked on a deck of cards-she's way too flexible with that thing. "...What's it about?"

    "...Hurricane. In the midwest. Mom thinks its another machine error," you say.

    "Well, windy enough for it!" Nicole chirps.

    "Probably just a large tornado, while its in a thunderstorm. If it was a hurricane, we'd be on the east coast," Margeret replies, factual as ever.

    "I know how hurricanes work, there isn't any way this is a hurricane," You say. "Heck, I don't even know if they should call it a hurricane or a typhoon, they usually do that by which coast you're on. But we're nowhere near either coast."

    "Well, a tornado isn't really much better..." Margaret says, trailing off.

    "You twats better run off, or we will bloody you!" Nicole says, turning around.

    "What's it to you?"

    A chill runs down your spine, and you whip your head around, making sure you're not being surrounded, before zoning in on the voice-yep. Him. A dark purple hoodie, black jeans, boots... You almost look like him, eugh! The creepy man approaches, your older male counterpart in appearance eyeing you up. Primal fear runs down your spine, even as Nicole and Margaret arrange themselves in your defense. A three-to-one, but the one is an adult. A dangerous adult.

    "You's sneaking upon our fine friend here, that's what's it to us, pal!" Nicole says.

    "Rather brash of you to assume," he says. You don't even know his name-you just call him the creep.

    "G-g-get lost, creep!" You say.

    "Oh, come on, one bad little trip and you keep thinking of me that way? We live on the same street block, you know. I know where you live and all, it's not even invasive," he says.

    "And I know where you live! And I don't prowl around at six-thirty in the morning looking for one specific chick!" Nicole shouts.

    "...Are you her twin?" The man says, looking between the two of you.

    "...No." Nicole and you say.

    "...Whatever. I'm just walking along. Quit sassing me," the creep says.

    "You don't have any business going that direction, your work's blocked off." Nicole says.

    The man's blue eyes close into a glare at Nicole. "Now... How'd you know that, little spy?"

    "It's called, looking up assault charges in the last ten years, dummy." Nicole says. "Now, you gonna add to your criminal record, or are you going to scram?" She adds, aggressive.

    The creep leers. "Stupid harpies..." He says, turning around.

    "...Oh, thank god you two were here!" Leah says. "I was worried about him. He's been harassing me, and my mother. God knows why... How'd you know about the assault thing?" Leah says. "I never told you about him, at all."

    "Luck. Concern. You tend to get into bad situations," Nicole says.

    "I was just dragged along." Margaret adds. "Nicole, you've got to stop playing pretend superhero, sometimes. If he wanted a real fight he'd leave us bloody messes. And then he'd claim we started it."

    "Like the law enforcement would believe a convicted criminal over the word of three beaten girls," Nicole says.

    "I'm agreeing with Margaret, here," you say. "They're paid to get charges, not to chase justice."

    "Awfully pessimistic of you," Nicole says. "Not like we'd have a choice if he really wanted to pick a bone with us, though, wouldn't it?"

    A thought springs into your head, suddenly-doesn't he have a dog he usually walks? "Hey, wait, did either of you see a rottie walking around with him?"

    "Uh, no?" Nicole says.

    "Yep." Margaret says, pointing behind you.

    You swivel your head just in time for the dog to try to bite at you-reality simmers as the world ebbs and flows into a distorted alternate dimension-
    ​

    LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, SHOWTIME!

    ROLECALL:
    Nicole (16 AGI) (26/26 HP) (18/18 TP)
    Leah (14 AGI) (31/31 HP) (13/13 TP)
    Robbie Rottie (13 AGI) (44/44 HP) (5/5 TP)
    Margaret (10 AGI) (25/25 HP) (20/20 TP)

    SCENE ONE!
    NICOLE, ACTION!

    Nicole, as is the right of the most agile of you, gets the first move as you, your two friends and the very hostile dog are forcibly displaced by the laws of turn-based combat!

    "AIYEEE!" Margaret shouts, the most inexperienced of the combatants.

    "He's got an attack dog?!" Nicole shouts in surprise.

    "That guy works as a loan shark. The dog's not afraid to chomp us!" you say.

    "Maybe we can say the dog really did eat our homework?" Nicole ponders.

    "That's dumb as heck," you shout.

    Nicole opts to just kick the dog in the snout, to establish dominance or something of the sort. Her legs always seem a tad bit more fluid than you can ever get your own kicks, and you can't get it out of your head.

    THWAM! 5 DAMAGE!
    LEAH, ACTION!

    "Wait, so we're going in order of-but that means-"

    "Margaret, don't get panicky!" you say. "If my luck holds true he'll probably try to bite me, if anything... Or hopefully Nicole."

    "Please let it bite her please it it bite her-"

    "... Really, Margaret? You're gonna let a stupid dog freak you out?" you say, incredulous.

    "I AM NOT USED TO THESE SITUATIONS!" She shouts.

    You check out your Technique Ring, staring eagerly at a variety of Techniques you would love to try out, and then sigh in the ever-present realization that you will almost certainly never get to use any of these for a long, long while. Any, except your wonderful superjump. You activate the Ring-your body feels a sensation quite like a heat flash as you prepare your legs.

    "Sorry, not sorry!" You shout, as you go airborn. Very, very airborn. If not for the laws of turn-based combat, you'd be coming down much sooner, but as it stands, gravity is not available right now, please leave a message.

    LEAH JUMPS UP!
    ROBBIE ROTTIE, ACTION!

    The dog's ruthless attack is immediate the second its turn is granted it. Margaret screams as it lunges forwards, even as it makes its target known to be Nicole, who takes a bite in the knee. "Robbie Rottie" latches on, sinking in, as Nicole starts shouting. "OwowowowowoowOW this thing can hurt!"

    THWAM! 10 DAMAGE!
    MARGARET, ACTION!

    "GO AWAY!" Margaret screams from below, as you casually overlook the whole thing, your jump long petering out into an inexplicable hover. Oh goodness gracious, how you would love to be able to actually hover.

    "Margaret, it's not gonna go away until you beat it away!" She says. "We got this whole thing set up just to do that!

    "I AM STILL NOT USED TO THIS!" She screeches. "You two are the ones getting into trouble all the time!"

    "Well, do something!" you shout.

    "Ow ow ow ow ow." Nicole says, rubbing her leg.

    "WHAT?!" Margaret shouts.

    "Just hit it with your book!" you respond.

    "...Absolutely not! This is a rental! I can't have dog fur all over it!" Margaret shouts, indiginent.

    "Well, if you don't, you're gonna have your blood all over it, so bite the bullet!"

    "... FINE!" She screeches, marching over to the dog in an indiginous fury, whirling back the boo-
    ​

    "OPERATOR!" Omniglot shouts.

    The girl-Leah-blinks. She's surrounded by soldiers, half of her new allies are gone, and she's still confused.

    "Operator. Memory was old. Very old. Dated over three years ago." Omniglot says. "We have much more to defragment. Or, would."

    The girl tries speaking, like in the memory. Still nothing more than an irritating, pained shout. It only raised more questions. Also, she was kind of about to die.

    "Operator. I recommend expanding your life force to achieve some kind of last goal." Omniglot quips.

    Leah looks at the Godmodder... She thinks about her memories-or, her single memory. Two memories, actually-that of raiding the bank with Fenix, and the freshly defragmented one. How'd she get from being 'Leah' to being 'The Operator?' It confused her... It confused her too much, but something else seemed to click in her head.

    Something like righteous indignation. She just got back the first of many memories and was now being told to throw her literal life away?! To feed this jerk's power?! Her face curdles like bad milk, properly angered for the first time thus far.

    ...But at the same time...

    She looks around. Soldiers surround her with unfathomable firepower. The Godmodder-whoever that weirdo is, like, seriously, did he just barge in and declare himself the main character? From her perspective, it certainly sounds like it-it was all about getting revenge on the bank with these 'players' and then everyone was freaking out about Fenix and then everyone was going nuts about this 'Godmodder.' It sounded stupid, but he was absorbing... Souls?

    ...

    The girl had an idea.

    Life binds the soul, and the soul binds life, and such it is the prison of the flesh.

    But it need not be so.

    The girl flares up in glorious radiance, staring down the Godmodder...

    ...And flops dead without anything else ado, Omniglot vanishing into thin air. No final attack. No last hurrah. Nothing. Just dead?

    ...No. The Godmodder realizes it instantly. The rest do too, shortly thereafter; there's something different here.

    Her soul. It's not there. It is not there! Her body decays into nothingness shortly thereafter this odd revelation, leaving no clues nor traces, not even good loot for the soldiers...

    ...The Godmodder senses something terribly, terribly wrong. Not a specific feeling, though, so much as a harbinger of impending doom. A souring of the victory. Is it a victory at all, then?

    The Godmodder then brushes it all aside when he gets his HP-up as usual. Phew. That almost felt bad, for a split second. Still, what was that about...?

    A giant book then descends from the heavens, bringing with it the holy omen of high school geography, frame burning from speed and force as it slams down unto the (former?) Bank of Actions, obliterating the Drakken Laser Drill in a single, calamitous clap.

    ...Oh.

    Two signs fall from the heavens, politely asking the Slime and the Archangel to maul the Drakken Laser Drill, respectively.​
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Drakken Laser Drill DESTROYED!

    Seeing his prized drill destroyed, the godmodder gets a minor headache. This becomes a major headache when he realizes that That_Random_Guy's exit-blocking powers (which will happen, in the future) are going to make it that much harder for him to acquire a new one. 1 headache damage to the godmodder!

    Your soul's been... consumed...?

    Well, it better have been! Otherwise, you'll end up separated from all your friends! In death, sure, but still!

    The_Nonexistent_Tazz has been slain!

    +2 Current HP to the godmodder!
    +1 maximum number of attack shields broken per attack to the godmodder!

    General_Urist said:
    That(Other)OtherGuy you should probably make your action to buff the Last Ditch a mortal action. You're going to die anyway this turn, might as well sacrifice yourself to boost the power of the last action you'll make. And the Last Ditch can cause more damage than you can if you buff it enough.

    As for myself...

    Welp, it's over. We caused the GM a LOT of pain, but it's over. His MLG Quickcope is almost ready to fire. Well if I'm gonna die here, might as well go out in a blaze doing what I love...

    FOCUS! ALL CP USED! !!MORTAL ACTION!!
    MAKING BACON!

    I pull out a lasso and, like a cowboy, I rope together the three surviving mythic solders within seconds and have them hogtied. Then I charge towards them, the reliable ol' Frying Pan Of Doom is in my hand. I reach them, and....

    Suddenly the Frying Pan Of Doom has grown to several time it's size, big enough for all three mythic soldiers to lye in at once! Which they do. They themselves couldn't tell you how I got them on it, but in the chaos I did it. Now they're lying in a frying pan full of various exotic seasonings and cooking oils. Where am I myself though, I am nowhere to be seen? I am right under the Frying Pan Of Doom. And I'm going to put "go out in a blaze" *very* literally.

    I 'overload' myself for the lack of a better word. I deliberately suppress any regenerativeness I may posses while flooding my body with raw life force and player power. Very quickly this proves too much and blindingly white flames of power erupt from various parts of my slowly-disintegrating body. And since I was under the Frying Pan Of Doom when I did this? I am the most overpowered camping stove in existence, and the Frying Pan Of Doom heats up. Quicky. The oil quickly starts bubbling very fiercely as the mythic soldiers scream in pain from getting literally cooked. The fire of raw power from my corpse reaches it's peak as the Frying Pan of Doom glows with a fierce red incandescence and various indescribable things start erupting out of the top of it, brought on by the absolutely intense conditions inside. Eventually of course I run out of life force and flesh to burn, and all that's left of my body is some very hot smoldering ashes. The Frying Pan Of Doom gradually cools down, but there is not much left of the mythic soldiers either.

    Not much, and most of it is horrifically charred. But, due to a little bit of residual player power I had left floating over the pan before my sacrifice, some parts of the mythic soldiers have converted (despite the ridiculous temperatures) into perfectly cooked crispy bacon. And it's no ordinary bacon: The seasonings I added to the mythic solders have made it into LUCKY BACON, which for a brief period (just this turn) of time will cause a consumer to have much more luck, especially with random number generators. Who's this Lucky Bacon for, though? Certainly not for me, or the godmodder. The question is answered when a handful of Canada Geese suddenly appear and fly over the now-cooled Frying Pan Of Doom, picking up the Lucky Bacon as they go. They drop this bacon right in front of the Last Ditch, who eagerly eats it up (if it didn't have a gastrointestinal system before, it has one now because reasons). He's going to NEED that luck if he wants to one-shot the Wall Solder, which is probably by far the most powerful thing to be left standing by the start of the entity phase.

    Mmmm, bacon.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    BACOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNN

    General_Urist has sacrificed themselves in the name of bacon!

    Somehow, the Mythic-Tier soldiers survive unharmed! However, the luck of Last Ditch is boosted even further - to a full 100%! Now, he's guaranteed to kill something elite!

    +2 Current HP to the godmodder!

    Evonix said:
    Alright then, final attack

    Firstly I use my charged CP to make a distraction I have been planning for quite a while: I create a huge bee, a really huge bee, I mean not just gigantic, there should be new words for how truly ginormous it is, if this were a normal planet it wouldn't even fit in the atmosphere. And insted of a normal bee's head it has Gorden Ramsay's vast perpetually screaming one, it's almost bigger than the rest of the bee and the face is stuck in a rictus of absolute fury. It seems to be approaching slowly but only due to how vast it is.

    I use the CP from this turn to enchant my massivly oversized diety whip to hit him in the back of the head taking advantage of the confusion the previous action caused.

    And finally I use my MORTAL ACTION, sacrificing my own soul to some distant elder bee god(the hum of the earth is the buzz of her wings) to deprive the godmodder of it and sacrificing all my stuff which is conveniently mostly based on bee based reality alteration to make one last attempt at bringing about my precious beeverse: I shout "IF ONE REMOVES A FINITE QUANTITY FROM AN INFINITE ONE IT REMAINS INFINITE TO THE SAME DEGREE, IF ONE REMOVES AN INFINITE QUANTITY FROM ONE OF THE SAME DEGREE THEN IT IS NOTHING! THUS {∞-bee=∞+0}-->{∞̶-bee=∞̶+0}-->{bee=0}. THUS ALL PLACES THAT DON'T CONTAIN BEES INFACT MUST CONTAIN BEES! Reality warps to meet my revilation as it realises it had made a mistake and it will now correct it via a finite yet arbitrarily large number of bees.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    NOOOOOOOOO-

    With your last Mortal Action, you force the godmodder and the remaining Players to team up and undergo RETURN OF THE BEEQUEST: BEEQUEST 2: BEELEECTRIC BEEGALOO! As a result of that quest, which lasted 200 updates, the godmodder takes 1 damage, gets to absorb your soul, AND also the universe and bees are restored to normal. FOR GOOD THIS TIME! Most future bee-based attacks will now be blocked by the Curse of Repetitiveness!

    Evonix has been slain!

    +2 current godmodder HP!
    The Godmodder is now immune to bees!

    Winkins said:
    I was going to make this a smash post but RL happened now it's stuck at 700 words.

    (Action...)(... Charges...?)

    I choke as I begin to see how bleak the battlefield looks, fellow Players continue to sacrifice themselves to do as much damage to the PG forces and have done well...

    Why... why is everyone Mortal Blasting?

    Don't they have things they want to live for? Is this truly the end?!

    ...

    "... Should I sacrifice myself too...?"

    The thought that I was holding back let itself known, causing me to freeze.

    A deep chill rises from me and seeped into my voice.

    No... I can't... I won't go back to the me before... I... I have something to keep... Bonds and friends...

    How... How can I betray all the bonds that I made! The promise made from Sushi, Rov and the Buns, the parting of the Cat Siths and Fennie, and the first bond that I made... Disco-Chan...

    I gasp for breath as I notice that I was hyperventilating.

    I have to live... I have to try to live! I can't leave those promises and bonds to finish! I won't! I will see them again!

    "So... SO! I WON'T DIE HERE! AT LEAST NOT TO YOU!"

    Lightning explodes out of my body as voidic forces claws at my body and continues to grab and rip pieces of me. Eventually, the void mass stops up to my neck, leaving scraps of my hoodie and scarf intact and instead covers my form in a layer of... darkness. words can't explain the pit that my seems to wrap my body but screams echos out as the soldiers that surround us claws their eyes out only to open voidic beast I can't comprehend. The mind splits, giving body last orders

    I lift my arms only to feel nothing but I don't regret what I've subjected myself too. I smile as I recall the feeling of temporarily being [V] if only for a few seconds, but that will be all that I need as I rush the Godmodder recklessly. But I didn't and turn tailed, leaving the Body as the... distraction...

    A hail of sparks burst from the clashes, the sparks shot out like a laser as it lit anyone to be engulfed in it. The Godmodder didn't budge from that strike though, but I didn't too. The voidic mass leap and grappled with him, latching on the first contact and grinding near endlessly. Sparks continue to generate from the odd friction that began to heat the area until the air exploded into plasma all in a thousandth of a second. I quickly raise a pinkie and continue to grapple with the Godmodder which seems to signal the plasma smother us in it. The battlefield continues to explode with light in slow motion as a second pass. I phase... a way out

    The Void material continues to shield me as I can feel it eat away at the body. And with the plasma contained somewhere in the eldritch void, the void material simply eats it up, and through the minor spikes that manage to pierce the godmodder skin, it dumps the plasma into it. and the godmodder begins to see cotton candy and living sentient stars dance and frolic together as it manages to punch him drunk into a drunk angry daze. and with that minor opening made, I tackle him into the open nuzzle of the pressurized dimension-cutting water hose and turn it on. The water that comes out cleanly cuts a multitude of dimensional tears into the Godmodder and quickly pours out sea water that burns with the eternal pain from the deepest pits of salt hell, just to salt the wounds of course. somewhere, somewhere to the after...

    By now, the head is almost encased in the void material but the body gives up the last sight of it flesh to the material and bulges out into a small part-time eldritch void titan that causes many of the soldiers' headgear to explode as the anti-eldritch component couldn't shield them from the incomprehensible mass. The army's screams delight the being holding what was me, but not-me and let's loose. soul... must get away... not to... modder... light... life... after...?

    ...

    ...

    The voidic mass withers after it finishes its run, leaving just the body.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    1 damage to the godmodder!

    In retaliation, the godmodder ends the body as well.

    Winkins has been slain!

    +3 Current HP to the godmodder!
    +8% godmodder maximum travel speed!

    Only a few left, now.

    That-Random-Guy said:
    OOC: this was going to be a Smashpost, but IRL stuff happened, so now its this.
    OOC Intent: firstly, kill any [PG] or [SR] entities left except the Godmodder Wall Soldier, than empower the heck out of the exit forcefield and other anti-leaving mechanisms, plus other fine detail stuff described in the last few sentences. Start where it says "In physical terms?"


    (note: best viewed on desktop screens)

    ASCENSION​
    Well, well, well.

    This is it.

    Do it
    ​
    So, I see you've dropped your old pretensions. Well, nothing is so constant as endings. It is time.


    A Player. A individual of great creativity-derived abilities.
    Something more than a entity, above entities, whilst all but the least of entities utterly excede any "normal" person.
    Here I have a crown, a physical representation of the state of being King of the Hill. I t levers it's wearer up the Hill of power at the cost of making them more vulnerable.
    Of course, it is meant for entities. Players are something more, as described higher in this pyra mid of exposition. However, in circumstances like this, could this, to, be something more?
    ^@&%%#^#$@&$*^***@%&&*%%@&%@@@!*#*%&^%%@!&!#*#^**^^*#%@%%&^*!^#$&#&&&%DO IT&$^!%*!@$@*^&$%!@*&!#%^^%^$@*@ *%%@&%@@@!*#*%&^%%@!&!#*#^**^^*#%@%%&^*

    ​
    A tendril of my potentiality reaches into the crown, twisting it's nature; prioritizing the flare of the supernova over the permanence of the star. In the process, it's physical form seems to melt, than flare, then form a pillar of light. All the while, I marshal every bit of my power, all the way down to that innermost core by which my sentience retains integrity. Over the course of a fractured instant, I marshal my [MORTAL ACTION].

    Then the pillar bends, draws together, and ultimately forms a circlet of light round my head. Meanwhile, my mortal shell glows and floats skyward, not in a mere physical sense but in some way even more important. For this moment, I more than King of the Hill.

    I am a EMPEROR OF SKIES, a player both strengthened and weakened in the same way as a king of the hill. Also, I'm in the middle of my Mortal Action. Do the math. (1 Mortal Action X 2 = no not literally!)
    ​
    ​
    MULTIPLIED MORTAL ACTION: DUALITY
    ​
    "Time to put my money where my mouth is."

    Having made considerable use of my player powers, it is time to draw upon my bottomless experiences as personification of those who enter and leave unnoticed. Since I have two Mortal Actions, I decide to take a two-part approach to the matter. 1 stream of power streams through the air. One goes underground. Let's start with the obvious one.



    Portals open in the air. People I once knew swarm through the bank. Bullet fly, things are div/ided into their constituent pieces, some clever ass does something ridiculously clever with several dozens amplifiers + 1 kazoo + a thorough understanding of Bladesong and Heartsong (everyone thinks the Magic of Friendship is weak until they find out what happened to Discord), and as a result everyone [PG] or [SR] except the Godmodder (and the Wall Soldier, who is reserved for the Last Ditch) dies, if they haven't already. The rest of my dying attack goes elsewhere.

    The equation is simple. 1 Mortal Action times x (insert appropiate number here) for Emperor of Skies equals x. x times 3 for the Horseman of War attacking = 2x (likely 6). Approx. 0.5 to 1 goes to cleaning the field and distracting the Godmodder. That leaves x -.5 to 1 (likely 5) Mortal Attack equivalents for my own little plan.

    The Godmodder has many characteristics, dangerous and powerful. One of them, important but fractional, is his Freedom.

    With power the likes of which even the Godmodder has seen but a few times, I CONCEPTUALLY OBLITERATE (which of course is a type of attack) the Godmodder's Freedom.

    In physical terms? The forcefield preventing leaving is now ridiculously stronger. Right now, the Drakken Laser Drill wouldn't do [GORILLA]. Oh, and the same goes for the other anti-teleportation methods (which are of course recreated at their original strength, minus the weak spot of a single shot physical generator), not to mention the more esoteric measures in place against esoteric methods of leaving, and also a hole bunch of actual chains upon the Godmodder's body, mind, and soul constructed of similar material as, say a TerminatorBot. (it would take ages to break even with outside help)

    Oh, and there's a entirely new set of restrictions against freedom of information. (no communicating for you!)

    And as for any off switches? ha ha ha no.

    Thus ends my final testament.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...


    First, the army you summon and the godmodder's massive army of unmentionable troops clash! An epic battle ensues, and is going to be ongoing for sometime! The godmodder's troops appear to be winning out - but judging from what you can see right now, they're going to lose about half their number in the process! Hah!

    And last but not least, the godmodder is ENTRAPPED within the Bank's field. It's going to take him some time to escape.

    The Godmodder: You...

    The Godmodder: You all can't help but be annoying.

    The Godmodder: Know this. Your efforts are useless. Your delays will buy those on Earth a few extra minutes to enjoy their little lives.

    The Godmodder: Nothing more.

    That_Random_Guy has been slain!

    +2 Current HP to the godmodder!
    The godmodder has acquired King of the Hill! He gets an extra action each turn until somebody figures out how to remove it!

    Krill13 said:
    Eyowe: Death becoming an inevitability?

    Eyowe: Hah. Never heard that before.

    Eyowe takes a moment to recount what he has on his person: a near-broken Eyowean Greatsword, an unsimilarly-intact Godmodder Protection Suit, 8 CPs somehow still listed under his name, and himself. Then...

    Eyowe: ...yeah, that would be quite an experiment, wouldn't it?
    ----------------------------------
    MORTAL ACTION: Project Soulless
    ​
    Eyowe deviates himself from his allies' attack and moves to a spot where he can work on this project in complete privacy. There, he begins work on an AI chip.

    Barely a moment passes, and he has already coded in the basic features present in the average living being, such as limb movement, respiratory system, and such. Other advanced features, such as pain receptors and the capability to formulate strategies, are included as well.

    Then comes the time for more advanced features to be coded in. In place of a functioning, life-replicating AI, Eyowe instead opts to create a command-based one, set to use all in its arsenal to solely obey him and his commands. Necessary information, such as the Godmodder and his forces, are also included in its memory. These are also finished in no time.

    Following that, Eyowe adds in its first command, greatly doubting that he will be physically present to give it the moment the chip activates. This comes up in the form of a recorded audio being played to itself:

    Eyowe: I doubt you'll question who I am, nor who you are. It's all in your programming.

    Eyowe: First off, that pain you're experiencing? Get used to it. Pain will be necessary for your survival, or as I'd like to call it, prolonging your stay in this world.

    Eyowe: Hah...

    Eyowe: ...

    Eyowe: ...right, your current itinerary.

    Eyowe: Find me. Approach me for your next orders.

    Eyowe: Avoid gaining the attention of the Godmodder until you find me, if possible. If you do get spotted, get rid of the witnesses if possible. If not, get away to the best of your abilities.

    Eyowe: Should the occasion arise where you do find me, but it would mean exposing yourself to the Godmodder's forces, make sure it will be me who will be made aware of your presence first.

    Eyowe: There will also be the rare occasion when others would attempt to wrestle control of you away from me. Resist them. Resist to your best abilities.

    Eyowe: And should anyone attempt to falsely claim my identity as theirs, inquire them of a passcode. Should they fail to answer correctly, judgment shall be yours to make, though make sure they do stop claiming to be me.

    Eyowe: As for what the passcode is?

    Eyowe: ...

    Pause Transmission

    Eyowe gives himself time to think up of one, and so one does come in mind.

    Resume Transmission

    Eyowe:

    ...no sound seems to come out, but to both Eyowe and the AI, there was indeed one made, it's just not audible to those who do not have a Species Hearing Type with which the passcode's language can be heard in. The "normal" Species Hearing Type in this battlefield, sadly, is not one that hears this language.

    Eyowe: Find me, and inquire me of the passcode. If I answer correctly, you'll know it's me.

    Eyowe: Use all in that's in your arsenal to make this mission successful.

    Eyowe: Onto miscellaneous things.

    Eyowe: You are plenty powerful enough, but should an opportunity to gain more power presents itself to you, so long as it won't prove to be a later issue, whether it be of morals or of gaining more enemies, you are obligated to take it.

    Eyowe: Accept any chance for benefits to be made, whether it be keeping possible allies alive, gaining the approval and aid of a separate party, or any such others.

    Eyowe: Your capability might be more vast than what we normally have, but never grow the opinion that you are superior to the Godmodder, nor should you ever grow the thought of betraying me.

    Eyowe: I leave it to you to use your judgment to weigh each of your decisions to the best of your abilities.

    Eyowe: Lastly, and of least priority.

    Eyowe: Get that BO off of that armor.

    Eyowe: It's making us less stylish.

    Eyowe: Now that all that's taken care of, I bid you good luck on this mission, Project Soulless.

    End Transmission

    Not revealed to the AI is a factory reset mechanism that only Eyowe knows how to activate.

    With that, Eyowe finishes up the chip and, through inexplicable methods, inserts it into his mind, with it laying dormant for now.

    Eyowe: ...onto the difficult part.

    Eyowe summons all that he can muster, with the exception of his physical body, into a manifested sphere in front of him, perfect in its shape and shining white, the sheer power of a Mortal Blast, his spirit, his soul, whichever other essence of him, all converging into this sphere.

    As Eyowe performs this act, his life is recalled into his thoughts:

    From multiverses away, born an Irulean on the melting pot planet Eyowe, which his name is copied after, he was put on a pedestal by his ever-so-doting parents, wanting to see him grow up to become the most well-known figure in said planet, a "Poster Boy for Eyowe." Now, this is not a tale of "Parents are too strict and uptight, so the child runs away from his responsibility." In truth, his parents were truly doting to a point of being wholesomely cringe. Other than that, his life with his parents were nothing too special.

    Then comes the time where he left them to pursue his education, as one does. There, Eyowe proved to be quite reclusive, not spending time participating in any social activities and preferring to be left to his own devices. It is then that fate introduced him to a person whom he will know for a long time: Krill13...species naming conventions. Having been put into the same dormitory room as this person, Eyowe initially viewed him as too energetic and naive after having rejected many of his invitations to, as Eyowe puts it, "practices that will amount to nothing in the future." Time passed by, and Eyowe learned that this person shares the same interest of working with technology as he does. Afraid of being outdone by this person he came to view as merely annoying, Eyowe scoured through Krill's work to reassure himself that he stands as the superior of the two. And reassured he is; Eyowe's work is most definitely superior over Krill's average handiwork. Still, Eyowe finds that he might be worth working with and begins inviting him to his projects, gauging how much useful he can be. Krill himself had no issue following Eyowe's directions, what with him definitely being the smarter of the two, and it's not like morals will be broken if he does follow him. Rinse and repeat, and Eyowe ultimately acknowledges Krill's potential in this subject. His quirky attitude still leaves much to be desired from Eyowe.

    And so the time comes when Eyowe finishes his education and moves on into the real world, landing a job as an average office worker and being able to buy himself a house in the suburbs. Tinkering with anything technological became a hobby to him. Other than that, his life at this period was nothing too special.

    One particular day, the doorbell rang clear throughout the house, signaling the presence of a visitor. Eyowe walked to open the door, and a sense of plain surprise washes over his expression as he sees the identity of the visitor: it's Krill. As it turns out, he had no place to stay in and is wondering if he can "crash in." Eyowe gives this choice an internal debate, concluding woth him allowing Krill to stay. Belongings were unpacked, ground rules were set, and so Eyowe's life with Krill13 begins.

    As it turns out, life with Krill is rather...unique, compared to Eyowe's prior one. For one, they've both begun tinkering with technology bought from high-end brands(which, in the "normal" technological viewpoint, would look like they are handmade by a team of technological gods). A sense of companionship rapidly grew between the two, and before they knew it, they've reached a certain level that would change the dynamic of their friendship. Krill's quirkiness is an aspect of his personality that hasn't exactly left him. Combine that with the friendship they currently have...

    ...and Krill introduces pranks into this mix. The first ones were rather normal fare, fake spiders planted in Eyowe's suitcases, whipped cream on his hand and a tickling feather to his nose, and other such simple pranks. Eyowe himself would indulge on retaliating from these pranks with some of his own. It's unknown to both of them how it happened, but the levels at which these pranks were grounded in escalated to levels where the victim could actually end up dying. The technology with which they were working with alleviated the repercussions of death, only leaving the prankee with the normal sour response to being pranked. Doesn't matter if they were ran over by particularly heavy vehicles, dumped in extremely radioactive substances, had their existence ripped in shreds, or are simply thrown into oblivion, they would be able to pull one another out and respond to this turn of events with the typical post-prank response.

    One particular day, a sleeping Eyowe was woken by Krill in a panicking state. According to him, their Multiversal-Warp Machine have been showing recent signs of disrepair, hence why Eyowe was being summoned to take a look on it. Unbeknownst to Eyowe, this is yet another prank. Clad only in his night robe and fluffy slippers, he is directed to where the alleged damage is: inside the warp chamber. The moment Eyowe entered the chamber, Krill swiftly snuck away from it and into the control console with what can be assumed is a mischievous grin on his face...hard to tell with all these species-difference thing. After much scouring for damages in the chamber, Eyowe finds none. Realization struck him almost immediately, but it was too late.

    Eyowe: KR-

    He is cut off as the machine whisks him away from the chamber.

    And so he was thrust into the "real world" variant of the Godmodder War. Unfortunately, he hasn't gotten to make much of an impact before he died and was brought into the Hexagonafield with a slight lapse in memory, forgetting his time in the "real world," however brief that moment was.

    A quick recount of the more recent memories, of his time in the Hexagonafield, then flash by, and Eyowe's thoughts return back to the present.

    ​


    Thinking about it, this set of current events is nothing too severe in comparison to what he has gone through before. An expression forms itself on Eyowe's face: one of a wry smile performed by one with Eyowe's facial features.

    Within the time frame when reminiscence was on full focus, the converging ball, consisting of everything Eyowe can offer, intensified in power more and more, and intensify it continues doing as Eyowe himself begins to fell the drawbacks of converting as much essence of himself as he can into raw power. Drawbacks mostly consist of becoming weaker and weaker, hardly able to keep a grip on consciousness. Nevertheless, Eyowe does not stop. He is willing...no, he IS making an effort on drawing everything that can be drawn from him into raw power.

    Eyowe ponders why he is going this far in this pursuit of defeating the Godmodder. If all he wanted was freedom from the Hexagonafield, he could've accepted a certain offer of the Godmodder's and waited for Krill to pick him up from whichever afterlife he ends up in.

    He then remembers why: he's interested in seeing this to the end. He's interested in what may come after that. He's interested in what may come before that. He's interested in killing the Godmodder. Upon being reminded of this reason, that expression he was holding intensified, as if to indicate a growth in his audacity whilst his physical body weakens.

    Fantasies begin filling his mind. Power, pride, riches, respect, and all such common objects of pursuit all serve to fuel his arrogance with ecstasy to further combat the urge to show any signs weakness from him. His expression continues morphing as well, becoming more distinguishable as that of a madman's.

    Then, one drifting thought comes into mind: he needs to return the favor. Not to the Godmodder, but to Krill. This sparked newer thoughts of revenge serving to give Eyowe the last push, allowing him to add an unconscious warp action as soon as power infusion ends.

    With that, a positively gigantic sphere of power lies in front of Eyowe. Not a moment soon after, that sphere returns back into Eyowe's body, breaking down into smaller specks as they infuse themselves into this body.

    With that done, Eyowe's body is now a superpowered being with its mental functions operated by an AI of Eyowe's design, yet laying dormant for now. In armor, it is clad in the Godmodder Protection Suit. In weaponry, it is armed with the Eyowean Greatsword.

    This body then unconsciously warps itself to a place Eyowe would not know of, as he himself did not specify this certain location, only two loose conditions: a place far from and can't be traced from this current site, and does not immediately alert the Godmodder's forces whilst in its dormant state.

    The former host himself, meanwhile, has been ejected from the body as soon as power infusion ended and is now left in a shriveled-up state, ripe for the picking.

    With body and soul separated, it is now safe to call this body an Entity.

    This Entity, wherever it ended up in, opens its eyes, but only sees black for the moment. What follows is a great surge of pain coursing through it, complements of the Godmodder Protection Suit. Immediately following that is a certain recorded audio winning this Entity's attention over the pain.

    ...

    With that done, the Entity's senses all activate. What comes next is...
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...


    (OOC: Well, thanks for going back and finishing this!)

    Somewhere, a new ally appears. They'll find weapons. And gain power. And come back to you. Eventually. But when they do... they'll be changed. Even if it was for their own benefit, a creation does not forget the painful life their creator forced upon them.

    Krill13 has been slain!

    +4 Current HP to the godmodder!

    ------------

    AG:

    The Elite Archangel unleashes all of their attacks on the Suppression Tank! It is DESTROYED!

    Last Ditch takes aim. He knows he can't kill the Godmodder Wall Soldier - its a miniboss. And with the Drakken Laser Drill taken care of - that leaves only one valid target. One of the two remaining Level 114 Elite Mythic-Tier Soldiers! He fires his nondescript-yet-incredibly-deadly weapon! Level 114 Elite Mythic-Tier Soldier slain!

    The AG turn is over.

    And now...

    PG:

    ULTIMATE! NOSCOPE! 360! HEADSHOT!

    The Godmodder pulls out his Call of Duty weapon. It's so unbelievably cringy, the handful of remaining Players might just die from cringe damage. In fact, that's exactly what happens to one of them.

    Crusher48 slain!

    The godmodder's also in Call of Duty gear all of a sudden! Wait, hold on, is that legendary-tier? From CSGO gambling? Trifling_Epithet suddenly remembers a bad experience they had with that, has a heart attack, and dies!

    Trifling Epithet slain!

    The godmodder takes aim. It inspires fear in the Player's hearts. So much fear, MooGoestheCow gets a heart attack and dies!

    MooGoestheCow slain!

    Wait! The godmodder jumped in the air! He's doing a flip, and a twist! This must be what the 360 part was about! In fact, Eevee Shadow Bacon suddenly feels 360 times the fear, and gets 360 Heart attacks! At the same time!

    Eevee Shadow Bacon slain!

    The godmodder's weapon... it doesn't have any scope! The godmodder is using... ULTIMATE SKILL! He's using so much skill, that ThatOtherGuy realizes that they'll never, never be as good as the godmodder! This realization causes them to commit suicide immediately!

    That(Other)OtherGuy slain!

    And FINALLY! The godmodder actually FIRES the weapon! The bullet initially appears to be going in a totally different direction from the motley crew of AGs - BUT THEN! It ricochets off a dust molecule, and heads through at the PERFECT angle to kill the remaining allied entities in one attack!

    Horseman of War slain!
    Last Ditch slain!
    Slime slain!
    Elite Archangel slain!

    Seeing all the entities dead, Arsenical loses the will to live! The godmodder immediately takes their soul!

    Arsenical slain!

    ------------

    ...

    The godmodder pauses. Is that everyone?

    ...Yes, it's everyone. They're all dead. No more Players. And the real-world group will fall easily, once the Allsee Spectacles are in the godmodder's hands.

    It's over.

    Now... to absorb the energy of their souls!

    +11 Current godmodder HP!
    +1 Godmodder MAX HP!
    +3% Godmodder damage resistance!
    +6% attack dodge rate!
    +10% extra damage against Players!

    The Godmodder glances around. That_Random_Guy's army is nearly dealt with. Might as well take one last quick note on the field condition.

    -----------

    THE BANK OF ACTIONS:

    [PG]Godmodder Wall Soldier: 9,700,000/10,000,000 HP (miniboss)

    [PG]Level 114 Elite Soldier Mythic-Tier: 2,800,000/3,400,000 HP, 400,000 x 3A

    [PG]The Godmodder: 288/303 HP (King of the Hill - x2 actions)

    [N]Artifact Case D: C _ O _ _ W O R _ (Epic-level item inside!)
    [N]Artifact Case F: Trivia Question: Name one location the Bank of Actions has never had a location or sub-location at.

    ---------

    The Players are dead.

    All is quiet. Nothing is left to stand against the godmodder.

    He walks over to the Artifact cases. No time to ruminate. Hopefully, his support staff will figure out how to get him a new drill and get the barriers on his escape out of the way. In the meantime:

    The Godmodder: "CLOCKWORK".

    Artifact Case D opens! The Godmodder acquires one of the artifacts you failed to get - the Time Reverser! The counter to the Time Accelerator, this sends an entity BACKWARDS in time 10 turns! Great for putting a stop to a snowball entity in a pinch. Or recovering a boss that's survived for a really long time!

    The Godmodder: "THE HEXAGONAFIELD".

    Artifact Case F: "CORRECT". With that, the Artifact Case opens to reveal the Divination Spectacle! A much weaker version of the Allsee Spectacles, it can see something's Critical Soul Weakness, for sure, precisely one time. Doesn't work on the godmodder or anything with a boss tag.

    The godmodder makes a resolution to track down the DEATH Stasis Pod at some point and retrieve the other Epic-level items from within.

    -----------

    Back on the HEXAGONAFIELD...

    The godmodder gets out a cute little folding chair, sets it down, and sits.

    He waits for the next Player group.

    ----------

    GODMODDER'S FUTURE STATUS:
    [PG]The Godmodder: 75/300 HP (King of the Hill - x2 actions)(Time Reverser - sends an entity back in time 10 turns)(Divination Spectacle - sees something's Critical Soul Weakness)

    OOC: The next update comes this weekend - saturday or sunday.

    From here on out, everything changes.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Sub/Mini-Storypost - Ping Hunting

    Ping Found - Planet Earth - [REDACTED,] USA

    The Godmodder - Ah, good. I can finally weed that one out.

    Using his new increased travel speed, he makes it in a matter of minutes, blasting apart the sophomore's bedroom wall.

    "... I see - hrk!"

    The Godmodder - Leftover uses of charges are nice.

    As he puts away the MLG-branded shotgun, he absorbs the other part of the soul. No buffs, sadly, due to interdimensonal shenanigans. He already killed that kid once, so... no second soul for him.

    Regardless, he walks away, satisfied as he returns to his lawn chair.

    ———————
    ​
    The sophomore wakes up in a black void. Nothing is there by him as he free falls further and further, closer to the end destination... wherever that is.

    "... Hello?"

    His call echoes outwards into the darkness. He calls again. Nobody comes or answers again. It seems like he is truly alone in this void. The sophomore decides to think about what he did in the past, as this... well, since a few hours ago, this was his first time to reflect in ages. The only time he'd dropped his controller of the avatar was when he went to bed the previous night after helping defeat the Soulrazer. When he woke up in the morning, he'd played some more... and then died along with the others - both his avatar and him.

    The boy wonders what happened to his avatar, and where those player powers went. Thinking about it, didn't he absorb said powers when his avatar died and he established a direct connection?

    Wondering if they'd work here, he spoke out into the darkness again.

    "... I wish for a book on Players and Creativity to come into existence."

    He hears a small ding as suddenly, something else falls behind him. He also remembers that he can not see in the dark.

    " I also wish for a light."

    Another ding. A small book lamp appears next to him, already turned on.
    The teen grabbed the book - quite small, actually - and began reading through the apocrypha that was this book to pass the time. He was sure he'd end up somewhere.
     
    Last edited:
    Right on time I see...

    Now, lets see if RedRover's plan will work... Operation Ping Spoof-hahahahahaha.

    Damn it.

    Edit: Thank you JOEbob, I wouldn't know what to do without you. Literally.

    -VOID<>TIME

    /null
     
    ...

    ...

    ...

    "GASP!!"

    I jolt up to breath some air. After regaining my senses, I found myself in this black void. nothing is making any sound, just the sounds of my breathing. I did die thought right?
    "Yes, you did."
    I frantically look around to me to find this voice. I suddenly recognize it.
    "wait... you are the one who helped me with the battle against the drill aren't you?"
    "That is correct."
    "... huh, can you show yourself?"
    "... an odd request. but it shall be done."
    I hear footsteps coming towards me. This being comes into view... wait, it's me? it looks like me but his eyes are different. his eyes are red colored. I feel hope resonating from him.
    "Ta-dah! here I am!"
    "... who are you?"
    "I am... Your Determination!"
    "... WHAT!?"
    "... Really? You're shocked about this? I was with since you were born. I just hadn't spoken up yet until it was time..."
    "until it was time for what?"
    "The day you faced defeat. Actual defeat."
    "Oh."
    "I am pretty sure you have questions... do you not?"
    "yeah. like, was I actually born with you?"
    "... yes and no."
    "huh?"
    "While yes, you did have this trait when you were born but the truth is... You weren't even born. You were created."
    "... no... no that's not true."
    "Your memories were changed. They were false memories. You were created in a laboratory to be an experiment for me, Determination."
    "... but... but... how do YOU know about this?"
    "I managed to catch your real memories before they changed it. I now know the whole truth."
    "... my god..."
    "I know. I understand if its too hard to take in right now. Just take your time."

    I sat there in confusion and anger. I can't believe this! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? WAS I JUST A FAKE?! A FRAUD?!? I scream as loud as I could. I slam my fists into the ground. Tears start to roll down my cheeks. I sob quietly.
    "my life... is a lie..."
    "..."
    "What else do you know?"
    "... a whole lot more."
    "... tell me more..."
    "what?"
    "... Tell me more."
    "... No, not yet. Please understand tha-"
    I stand up.
    "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT YET?! I JUST FOUND OUT MY LIFE WAS A LIE AND I WAS NOTHING MORE THAN AN EXPERIMENT!! AND YOU WON'T TELL ME MORE??!"
    "... I'm sorry... I really am. I just can't tell you yet. You may not be ready for the news that I am about to give you, It could damag-"
    "I DON'T GIVE A [REDACTED]! PLEASE TELL ME!!! Please... please..."
    I break down into sobs. Determination walks to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.
    "Calm down. I am really trying to look out for you. I don't want you to have a nervous breakdown on me. I know what's best for you. I will tell you when it's time. for now, just relax and wait to see what happens."
    my sobbing slows. I nod in understanding.
    "Good. Please rest up. We are gonna have a big day soon."
    I look up to see no one. He disappeared on me. I sigh. I decided to take his advice and rest up. I lie down on the ground and close my eyes.

    However, I can't get the questions out of my head. like... who really am I? Who are my creators? and WHERE was I created?

    ... I better get some answers soon.
     
    Last edited:
    "GAH! Did... what..." My Ether reforms. "How... did I come back? I thought I was DEAD!" I grab my favourite sword from hammerspace. "Aw phew... you're okay. I'm keeping you as the finishing blow... I swear it." I put it back in hammerspace. Okay. I'm alive again? I need some reasoning. SOMETHING to explain how I keep resurrecting.
     
    /null

    "It's nice to take a break for a few moments."

    "Why are you looking at me like that? My roots are in the weave of narrative, I can hear the Arbitrator like the rest of us, I knew this was coming."
     
    /null

    "Indeed,it's nice to take a break....the last few Updates were hectic What with Doomed Timelines and Everything....If you need to know,my Existence is more anchored to Tropes and Narrative....though I'm excited what will happen next so I'm not leaving...also something something information on this part of the Omni-Omniverse for the rest of the Paradoxes"
     
    Storypost XII - Darkness
  • Threadmarks
    • -------------

    ...

    ...

    ...

    ------------

    ...Dreams assail you...

    ...A great war, mighty armies clashing...

    ...An unfathomably vast chasm...

    ...An insurmountable wall...

    ...A long, winding path, every step filled with more traps and defenses...

    ...And at the very end... a great victory, a final end... but for whom...?

    ...Words on your lips... "The Tribulations"...

    ...And then darkness takes you once again.

    -----------

    ...

    ...

    ...

    -----------

    You're conscious again.

    Everything is sore. Probably because you're pretty sure you're sleeping on a bench. You don't want to open your eyes to check.

    But of course, you're eventually going to have to check. You have to go to the bathroom, your throat is nightmarishly parched, you're hungry, your eyes have that crust on them and you want to just flick it off... and of course... your lips are chapped!

    Normally, Player Powers take care of these things in the background, as godmodder fighters have no time for bathroom breaks, but now...

    Now...

    -----------

    Your movements are sluggish... the former grace with which you accomplished your tasks has left you. Actions per turn reduced to 1.

    Your Player Powers... appear to be wholly gone. Base Player Power reduced to 0. You can no longer charge or hold CP.

    -----------

    You sit up, and before anything else, attempt to summon a glass of water for yourself. Nothing. You try to focus your energies, but... you have no energies to focus. It's no use. ...It's gone.

    Finally, you look around properly...

    -----------

    You're in a medium-sized cell, dimly lit with an oil lantern above your head. Thatch lines the ground, and stone bricks make up the walls and ceiling. There are two benches opposite each other on the walls of the cell, and on them are a few of your teammates. A few. You've all been split up, and there are only a few of you in each cell.

    As your teammates also begin to shake themselves awake, you spy a water bucket on the ground, next to a plate of hard-looking bread. You scrabble for the water first - and accidentally spill it! But when you get the bucket back up, its still full... After drinking, you turn to the bread. The bread is of the Olive Garden variety, but of course it's been left out too long, and has grown cold and hard. You take a few bites of bread, and find that it, too, regenerates when eaten. Food and water are taken care of.

    A bit more searching, and you find a door in the wall leading to a (small) side room with a toilet, a sink, and some hand sanitizer. Not soap. Hand sanitizer.

    After you and your fellow Players... former Players... have finished taking care of themselves, of course you immediately head to the bars blocking your exit. The first thing you notice is a sudden shift in theme - your cell very clearly resembles one from a medieval prison, but outside, you can see magenta fluorescent lights illuminating bright white chrome hallways. Perhaps the budget was too small to make your cells that nice? But clearly, they didn't skimp on the bars - they're interwoven too tightly to poke your head through, and even touching them makes your hands burn. They're not normal metal.

    You call out, and get a few responses from fairly close by. The rest of your allies! Wait, no... there's clearly a few voices missing. More than a few. You'd estimate that there's only about half of your friends in this general area. The rest are somewhere else.

    You also notice a variety of video and audio recorders along the wall. Any attempt at cross-group communication will definitely get recorded.

    Eventually, things settle down. As all of you sit there, the realization sets in.

    If nothing changes... this is it. This is the end of the line.

    You think back, sit down, and discuss the past together with those near you... what are the choices you've made thus far?

    ----------

    Early on in the game, Eternalstruggle attempted to join the [PG] team by using the power of the Sealed Zombie. The godmodder spied an opportunity, and seized control of Eternalstruggle to send them on a sidequest to retrieve Starcalibur. There was a chance to stop them - if other Players had intervened, and entered the sidequest to try to beat up Eternalstruggle, they may have prevented the godmodder from acquiring Starcalibur.

    Alas, the godmodder did acquire Starcalibur. At that moment, the godmodder likely made the decision to use your group for legendary weapon collection.

    Later on, the godmodder summoned a cute puppy. It ended up going to the dog afterlife, and acquiring an item... Corebrute, who... wait, where did Corebrute go? Well, he's probably fine. Or dead. One of those two things. Anyways, Corebrute attempted to enter dog afterlife after the cute puppy, and retrieved the item that it took... but much to his surprise it was Yorehammer! And thus, the second legendary weapon was introduced onto the field.

    Later on, through a foolish wager, Arsenical managed to get himself indebted to the godmodder to the tune of one legendary weapon. He foolishly decided to be honorable, and seek to fulfill the debt rather than let it stand. He traveled to dreamland (spoilers: It was actually hell), and made another terrible bargain for the Resolute Heart. Not only did the godmodder get a legendary weapon, but Arsenical just ended up with a different, arguably worse kind of debt! The good news? The legendary weapon was a fake due to Arsenical's lack of negotiation, so it ended up destroyed. The whereabouts of the actual Resolute Heart are currently unknown. ...But the godmodder's probably honing in on it, if he doesn't have it already.

    Next, after some shady internet research, Mr Mirror Man, Eevee Shadow Bacon, and JOEbob ended up at a shady gambling site (spoilers: It was hell. Again.), where they entered into an illicit gambling competition for an equally illicit prize. JOEbob took over the quest, as he is wont to do, and ended up almost winning the Infinileaf Clover - but at the last second, he decided to hand it off to Altair, who wished to hide it. It was a less terrible decision than other decisions that could have been made.

    Next, the godmodder uses the Legendary Weapon map to find a mountain with a legendary weapon, Mascythe, at the top. However, the Players managed to thwart him, by reaching the weapon before he could, and teleporting it elsewhere on the HEXAGONAFIELD. The godmodder once again used Arsenical as a pawn, by using Arsenical's pawns, to cover the vast amount of ground necessary - and then managed to very nearly take Mascythe for himself, only for captain.cat to get it back at the last second!

    Next, Alice came around with Yoreshield, and used it to help the Players fight the Soulrazer. The Players managed to keep it and her safe, causing Alice to leave with the shield. It and her whereabouts are also unknown.

    Speaking of Alice, you still lack enough information to know whether keeping her alive was a good idea or not. You can only hope she'll manage to find some way to stop the godmodder.

    JOEbob then used Fred, an ally he picked up during the previously mentioned quest, to begin exploring the real world. He foolishly decided to explore a vault, and fell into the godmodder's trap. His Player powers opened the vault up, undoing the defenses of past Players, and ruining Altair's plan. Sooner rather than later, the Infinileaf clover was out of the vault, and in JOEbob's hands. JOEbob also acquired Mascythe as well, and ventured out to the god of dreams. In a deal to protect the god of dreams, JOEbob decided to willingly hand over Mascythe and Infinileaf Clover to the godmodder. After this decision, the Players were rendered incapable of stealing further legendary weapons from the godmodder. JOEbob bet on himself, and then failed to deliver.

    Speaking of Fred, the cage he was in didn't get taken with everything else in the DEATH Stasis Pod. The godmodder's most likely cracked the cage, taken Yorehammer... and probably killed Fred.

    And then, finally, the very last legendary weapon, the Allsee Spectacles. You still don't know where you managed to learn what they do, but somebody picked it up. The godmodder launched his most elaborate and long-term ruse yet, first creating (what you now realize is most likely to have been) a false Bank of Actions branch, laundering away your actions, creating a fake agency to pursue the real bank of actions (the Federal Fraud Investigation agency and Fenix). With this, the godmodder managed to gather a mob of vengeful Players with which to attack the bank indirectly.

    You squirmed and attempted to escape the godmodder's trap - but you only partially succeeded. With Fenix turned to your side and Latula dead, the Federal Fraud Investigation agency is no more. You managed to place significant delays on the godmodder's attempts to get the Allsee Spectacles - but he's never going to sit idly by. If he doesn't have them already, he will soon.

    As a result of your choices and decisions, the godmodder has managed to acquire, or become very close to acquiring, most but not all of the legendary weapons. You could have done worse. You could have done better, if you had some magical New Game + thing that let you try again with your current knowledge. But you could have done worse, too.

    ----------

    And that's how things have ended up this way. The godmodder has enough legendary weapons to be a serious threat to anyone, and he's likely to acquire more, all while you're sitting here in these cells...

    As you're all really starting to descend into self-pity, you hear a crackle... a loudspeaker? You're not alone in this place! You and the other Players rush close (not too close, don't want to get hurt) to the cell bars, and listen...

    ???: Ahem... Ahem! Hello? Hellooooooooo? Is everyone awake?

    ???: WAKE UP!!!!!!!!

    ???: Okay, great, glad everyone's awake. My name is Cybil. You can consider me the warden of this prison.

    Cybil: Details about me? My hobbies include Rubix cubes. That's it. I used to like movies, but Rubix cubes is all the godmodder gave me to play with down here, so I'm pretty bored.

    Cybil: You really shouldn't give me an excuse to entertain myself.

    Cybil: In any case! New arrivals, I've noticed that there seem to be a LARGE NUMBER of you. More than the recommended maximum capacity of non-shadows recommended by my complete manual of total godmodder-level prison guard safety...

    Cybil: So, I'll start by telling you a little bit about this prison. First, your schedule!

    Cybil: Cell lockdown, 12:00AM - 11:59 PM. Great. Now that that's settled, our discipline policy...

    Cybil: Rule #1: Do bad, get zapped.

    Cybil: Okay, thats introductory stuff out of the way. Down to business, now.

    All the Players are quiet. You doubt this message will get repeated. You don't want to miss anything.

    Cybil: You'll notice I mentioned "shadows" earlier. They're your fellow Players! From the past! But their beings have been almost completely consumed. There's nothing left, now. Nothing but energy for the godmodder to feed off of.

    Cybil: And soon enough, you'll be like them! Every time you go to sleep, you'll suffer prophetic dreams, and each time you do, your MIND will slip away. When you have no MIND left, your consciousness will go away entirely! Completely destroyed! Basically, you'll be dead. You don't get another afterlife, sorry.

    Cybil: You can have a competition with your cellmates over the next few weeks to see who can stay awake the longest! The winner gets to use their last few shreds of sanity to watch their cellmates become shadows completely!

    Cybil: ...No? Doesn't sound appealing? That's fine. There's also Option #2. And it's the more entertaining option! I think you'll like it.

    Cybil: Basically, you gamble all your MIND on a friendly competition of skill! You'll agree to consentually consent to the Obliterator, and then you'll compete as a team against the other shadows!

    Cybil: Lose, and we'll take all your MIND at once. Win, and you'll get the privilege of staying in the luxury cells until your MIND goes! Die IN STYLE!

    Cybil: Oh, and you'll get one other privilege, too. You'll get to ask me one question, which I solemnly swear to answer with complete honesty.

    Cybil: Maybe, if you think of a good enough question, you'll be able to beat the system that thousands of other Players have failed to beat, and escape! Hmm? HMMMMM?

    Cybil: (HINT: The second option is the better option! Please take it! I want to watch an entertaining competition!)

    Cybil: I'll give you... mmm... a day to debate it amongst yourselves. Since there's so many, I've had to split you up... well, I'll pool the votes of both sides. Don't worry about it.

    Cybil: At any rate, if you do want to compete, rest up... or wait, maybe don't! See you in 24 hours.

    Cybil's voice fades away, leaving only silence.

    For a moment, everyone is unsure... Wait, waking up from sleep was the first thing you did... have you already lost... ?

    ----------

    In one of the cells, one Player is sitting, slumped down, staring at nothing. Their eyes are glazed over and glassy. The others have noticed, but they've been too busy or uncaring to do anything about it.

    It's Arsenical. If any Player already lacks MIND, its them. The consciousness inhabiting Arsenical's body is away, out on lunch... I suppose you could say they're away from keyboard... AFK, if you will. And yet, while normally these Players disappear quietly (best not to think about it too much), Arsenical is here to stay. They owe a debt to Lucifer - and even double-death has not freed them from it.

    (Arsenical is now an NPC Player. Unless Arsenical returns to the game, he will continue to be so until he expends his action debt.)

    And now, finally, Arsenical stands up, faces forward, and speaks. Calling upon one of their two remaining indebted actions...


    I establish a communication channel between all Players. It is completely anonymous. Cybil can't sense it.

    Players. Greetings. You already know who I am.

    I'll be brief. The godmodder has overstepped his bounds. He threatens to destroy and remake all things, and it's time to stop him properly.

    To do it, I need your help. So I would like to extend an offer to you.

    There is an exit in this prison. At the very highest and most well-guarded point within it, used for emergencies only: Cybil's chambers. Not even he can use it. He's just as much a prisoner as you are. The exit is a portal, locked tight, and has two conditions: First, another portal must attempt to connect to the portal - its incapable of connecting to the outside on its own. Next, a specific password has to be entered, and only Cybil knows this password. This exit is the only way out of the Shadow Realm, save from the very rare hole opened by the Player Thief (You won't be able to use that for obvious reasons).

    Your goal is to reach this room, and get the password from Cybil somehow. How you do this is up to you. I will not waste Arsenical's remaining debt on advising you.

    I should let you know: By using my portal connection, you agree to owe me your lives. Not ideal for you... but you don't have any other choice, so far as I know.

    Good luck.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    The communication channel is up and running. Your thoughts are immediately bombarded with hurried messages, as everyone is once again capable of communicating to everyone else at once. But the channel... it reeks of godmodding energy. Ancient legend confirmed?

    At any rate, after some debate, two schools of thought emerge. A vote begins. You have two options before you.

    1: Prison Break! Begin a slow adventure-type quest to find your way out of the prison!
    If Cybil is allowed to shuffle you into his death game, you'll probably lose. You need to take action now, and break out of the prison! There must be some way out of these cells... If you can reach Cybil, maybe you can negotiate or beat the password out of him? It's worth a shot!

    2: Play the Game. Enter Cybil's desperate death game, rise above the odds, and win.
    In order to break out and reach the portal, you need an opening. Cybil's game is the best chance for that opening. Surely you can win somehow. And if you win, you get to ask Cybil a question...

    Vote as a group on these options. You can use your one action this turn however you like, as well.

    Whatever you decide - you'll have to decide it together! Splitting up and doing both is NOT an option!

    ----------

    Players:

    CELL A-1:
    Captain.cat
    EternalStruggle
    MooGoestheCow
    CaptainNZZZ


    CELL A-2:
    That-Random-Guy
    Arsenical
    Ranger_Strider_
    Paradoxdragonpaci

    CELL A-3:
    Crusher48
    General_Urist
    That(Other)OtherGuy

    CELL A-4:
    Bill Nye
    Kyleruler
    Algot

    CELL B-1:
    GoldHero101
    Krill13
    FlamingFlapjacks
    Winkins

    CELL B-2:
    The_Nonexistent_Tazz
    The_Two_Eternities
    Dragon of Hope?!?

    CELL B-3:
    RedRover1760
    JoeBOB
    Daskter
    Evonix

    CELL B-4:
    Cephalos Jr.
    Karpinsky
    Eevee Shadow Bacon
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • /RP

    I look at my teammates in slight annoyance and point at my work laptop, basically saying that I have work and I would probably go with choice 1, but have no problem with going with choice 2.

    With my small contribution out of the way, I get back to working on my laptop, that was somehow teleported in by my RL boss... (Is he a reality warper? Who knows) and most likely will be teleported away if I don't do my work on it.
     
    Last edited:
    Reader mode
    You must log in or register to reply here.
    Back
    Top