Paradoxdragonpaci
Schrödinger’s Dragon
(X3) I tell the Peasants a secret after they have mastered the Artes of the Dance under my tutelage "There's no need for music,when you are a Flash Dance Rave Mob"
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The Gifting system has received a major upgrade. Gifts are now Awards!
Defeat The Godmodder
- Thread starter Moniker
- Start date
It's not the most efficient use of CP, but I want that summonspitter GONE.
3(this turn)+3(stored) CP focus!: Super Sour Surprise!
So the Summonspitter is weak to lemonade? Well than, let's make LEMONADE! And so I do. I purchase a truly staggering quantity of the yellow fruit for orchards across the nation, and I purchase vast quantities of sugar from fair trade plantations. Returning to my lair which I've always had and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, I Squeese the lemons, all the lemons with the help of George the Steamroller, into a gigantic holding tank. I then attach the holding tank to a vacuum pump. By lowering the pressure inside the tank I boil away a lot of the water inside the lemon juice, leaving the residue much more concenrated. In particular this means that the concentration of Citric Acid, the stuff that makes lemon juice sour, is massively increased to the point where the acidity is probably hazardous to the health even of people who are not weak to lemonade. Of course, the other 'lemon' parts of the lemon juice is also increased in potency to a similar degree. One I have my SUPER lemon juice, I pour it into a blender with all that sugar I bought, and mix it together thouroughly to create SUPER lemonade!
Now I need a delivery mechanism. I happen to have an armored personnel carrier with a water cannon on top (it's supposedly a crowd control vehicle...), so I fill up the APC's water tanks with SUPER lemonade and drive it up in front of the Summonspittter. I take aim with the water cannon, and spray. Now you see I overclocked that water cannon a while ago, so even with just inert water the super high pressure stream I'm squirting out would be painfuly to the Summonspitter. But it''s not inert: it's SUPER lemonade, and IT BURNS!. To make matters worse I also squirt some of it down the Summonspitter's pipe/mouth, causing it severe internal trauma!
3(this turn)+3(stored) CP focus!: Super Sour Surprise!
So the Summonspitter is weak to lemonade? Well than, let's make LEMONADE! And so I do. I purchase a truly staggering quantity of the yellow fruit for orchards across the nation, and I purchase vast quantities of sugar from fair trade plantations. Returning to my lair which I've always had and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, I Squeese the lemons, all the lemons with the help of George the Steamroller, into a gigantic holding tank. I then attach the holding tank to a vacuum pump. By lowering the pressure inside the tank I boil away a lot of the water inside the lemon juice, leaving the residue much more concenrated. In particular this means that the concentration of Citric Acid, the stuff that makes lemon juice sour, is massively increased to the point where the acidity is probably hazardous to the health even of people who are not weak to lemonade. Of course, the other 'lemon' parts of the lemon juice is also increased in potency to a similar degree. One I have my SUPER lemon juice, I pour it into a blender with all that sugar I bought, and mix it together thouroughly to create SUPER lemonade!
Now I need a delivery mechanism. I happen to have an armored personnel carrier with a water cannon on top (it's supposedly a crowd control vehicle...), so I fill up the APC's water tanks with SUPER lemonade and drive it up in front of the Summonspittter. I take aim with the water cannon, and spray. Now you see I overclocked that water cannon a while ago, so even with just inert water the super high pressure stream I'm squirting out would be painfuly to the Summonspitter. But it''s not inert: it's SUPER lemonade, and IT BURNS!. To make matters worse I also squirt some of it down the Summonspitter's pipe/mouth, causing it severe internal trauma!
Alistair's hands shake with fury. He was here to stop the Godmodder. To save everyone from getting soul vored and condemned to an eternity of misery. But now the Godmodder was threatening to kill JOEbob. In one go. And he could do nothing about it.
Even before he had a reason to fight, Alistair has always hated powerlessness. For a while, he felt like he didn't need to feel that way again, at least for the rest of the Godmodder fight. After all, all of the Players were strong, resourceful, and able to bend reality to their whims. There was no such thing as powerlessness here.
No, even no he wasn't powerless. That was the wrong word. Alistair thinks about what the right word was that described his feelings on the matter.
The Player realizes that the word he was looking for was 'helplessness'. The sensation overtook him, causing his entire body to shake and rattle with an intense, defiant fury. Hot tears roll down from his eyes as he lets out a shrill, furious scream.
"Really? REALLY? GOSHDAMN FUCKING REALLY!? He's just going to do that? He's just going to throw a tantrum because of those posts!? And just kill him like that?" Alistair takes in another huge, deep breath. "What about the rest of us? This is bullshit! If he can do that to JOEbob, then we are all FUCKED. Why is he even pretending we can stop him? What purpose does this serve? Either the Godmodder is an idiot of the Highest Order, or he's bluffing, or- or- or- AUGH! FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
Then he stills as quickly as the shouting came. During this moment of calm fury and lucid anger, he draws upon his power. That power responds in kind, seeping into his fury and giving it shape and form as Emotional Spectrum energy. What happens next is only natural for this sort of concentration, even if without the raw reality warping of a Player the ritual needed would be extravagantly long and complicated. Technology made out of the near magical energies produced by emotions tended to need such methods, after all.
The rage has now condensed itself into a red ring of pure emotional energy. Before it can turn his blood into plasma or some other horrible thing, he lifts a hand up and then he snaps it. The ring evaporates, turning into a fine red mist that condenses from strange, nonstard energy produced by emotions into more standard forms of energy and then into pure physical matter. The matter joins and configures itself into organic molecule compounds in the wounded areas of Alistair's injuries and joins the flesh together. Thus effectively healing himself by sacrificing a potent amount of sheer, furious anger.
With his first Action used and his mind cleared a bit, Alistair stares down the Godmodder. He closes his eyes, and thinks for a bit. He thinks on his home. His... old home.
Then he remembers a promise he made. And he opens his eyes to see the opportunity to do it with. But what should he do? There were two opportunities here. He bit the inside of his lip as his heart struggled. To be quite frank, Alistair Dragovich had never been a good decision maker, and even when he removed the personal revenge component from his plans, both of them were rather important and good ideas.
'Well,' He thought, trying to keep the apprehension out with some vague, intuitive mental trickery and maneuverings that lacked specific words. 'At least plans both start the same way. Might as well get that part out of the way first, and hope that I come to a decision by the time Phase 2 is complete.'
He smiled to himself as pulled out the paperwork he had prepared when he gave the Godmodder the King of the Hill families in the first place. He had a very specific plan, you see, but he didn't know if the Godmodder had any actual family or not. It was best to stack the deck, in this regard. He expected Phase 1 to be subverted or destroyed in some fashion. When it wasn't it gave him a lot of joy and Hope.
'After all...' Alistair had a smile and heart full of mischief as the last of the pre-prepared paperwork was submitted and approved. 'You need family, if after the success of your 'victory' as King of the Hill you're going to throw...'
But before he could finish that thought, the point of view shifts to the antagonist of this forum game. This occurs a few seconds later, so as to make sense not chronologically, but narratively.
The Godmodder, currently busy telling his latest dad that he won't give him any more money for those cheap cigarettes, then gets a flier. The dad on the other line grumbles about magically appearing fliers, meaning they both got the same one. On it is a simple declaration surrounded by vague shapes and colors, as if it was slap-dashed together by a high school student or meticulously under designed by an Art Major for style purposes:
'Welcome to the King of the Hill Post-Victory Family Dinner!*'
On the bottom of the page, with the asterisk, was '*The King of the Hill MUST be in attendance.' The legal power leaking out tf the asterisk was immediately sensed by the Godmodder, always half-expecting such shenanigans by now. Naturally, he hated those with every fiber of his being, like most things.
The Godmodder almost winces imperceptibly at the tagline, hanging up on the deadbeat dad (who was in the middle of congratulating him as the Godmodder hung up) to call his lawyer. One brief phone call later, and the Godmodder was both down a lawyer and now at the Party. Which is unfortunate since it's taking place before he can fire his charge at that irritating JOEbob.
Getting back to the topic of the party, the ENTIRE family was there, all chatting with one another. The Mother-in-Laws were all complaining about how the Godmodder didn't have enough kids yet, the brothers were all being edgy loners, the sisters were all gossiping about whether or not they'd be able to get half-off of the Godmodder Brand Makeup (or in the case of one adventurous girl, Godmodder Brand Swords) due to familial relationship status, and the dads were smoking their cigarettes and swapping awful jokes with one another.
The Godmodder looked up desperately hoping that the sprinklers would go off from the smoking- Aaand there were no sprinklers. And if a fire did start, the Godmodder would have to put it out to keep them from getting hurt, and everyone looked too stubborn and/or stupid to leave even by force, so he couldn't just end the party with a forced evacuation.
As for the Party area itself, there were an assortment of snack tables and a currently clear dance floor, but the musician was incessantly playing disco tracks, to which the grandpas were all trying to boogie while their wives looked on in either frustration or sickeningly sappy lovestruck expressions. Uncles were currently trying to shove all the snacks into their pockets, the Aunts drinking heavily, and the family who decided to defy gender norms stuck to the walls, trying to give each other support or vindication. That and they bitched about what they saw on social media, venting frustrations about the crap they saw generated by complete assholes and strangers from the internet.
Towards the back was an absurdly long buffet table that was designed to be moved to the center floor once the dancing had finished, and next to that was the playpen where the babies were being watched by family friends and cousins. The toddlers and elementary school kids also roughhoused over near them, but they didn't get nearly as much supervision and snuck away on occasion to get into trouble. Unfortunately, none of the mothers seemed to give a shit and the kids actually seemed to be ENJOYING the party, and so didn't seem to be inclined to leave either.
There were even pets at this party! The birds were in cages, at least, but the dogs were sniffing all of the butts around them, the gerbils were running about in tubes that lined the corners of this room and the crawl spaces underneath the flooring, and the ctas were complaining about not getting enough lasagna. The Godmodder suspected that, if this had occurred a month earlier, there'd be aggravatingly bright Christmas decorations to give this farce of a party even more obnoxious flavors.
In short? It was LOUD, obnoxious, and the Godmodder hated every second of it. Unfortunately, the lawyer he was on the phone with told him he had to suck it up for 2 turns so he could keep his King of the Hill status or else he'd have to give it up to leave. The lawyer that had once been the now fired lawyer's rival promised he'd look into how the Players keep pulling this shit in the meantime to see if they could at least bog it down in endless amount of red tape.
And to think that this was all set up with two Actions. Truly obnoxious, or at least that's what the Godmodder would think if he were to allow himself to appear so easily moved. At least that's what the Godmodder claims, even if reality would say otherwise.
The Godmodder was intelligent, though, and looked for entrances to the crawl spaces below in which he could enter and hide from the rest of the party without being seen. Unfortunately, they weren't designed for anyone as awesome and large as the Godmodder, and this they were ruled out because of how uncomfortable they'd be. There also weren't any restrooms to hide in, which made the Godmodder shudder because of how gross it would be if anyone else at this party needed them. He could try to hide in the kitchens, but it seems that a pair of cousins several times removed were guarding it as part of a part time gig.
Then the Godmodder saw him. A player- No, THE player who had set all of these shenanigans up in the first place. Or, at the very least, these family shenanigans that had pestered him up to this point. The obnoxious pest of a 'problem solver' was looking at his smart phone with a long look in one hand and tossing a ball of CP up and down in the other.
Either way, the man was looking smartly dressed in a white suit, black undershirt, red tie, black shoes, and black slacks. On him was the name tag 'Hello, my name is Alistair Dragovich'. It was pathetic and the signature was a cursive, nearly unreadable scrawl, but the tag itself was meticulously lined up in such a way that any inferior being would say it was perfectly straight. To the Godmodder, though, who could tell the difference between true perpendicular perfection and something that was nanometers off, this micrometer slant was truly beyond obvious.
And considering the Player wasn't trying to adjust it, they probably couldn't tell the difference themselves and was embarrassing themselves hardcore in front of their worst nemesis. Which would be hilarious, if the Godmodder cared. After all, Players came and went and got soul vored so frequently that it honestly didn't mean anything to the Godmodder. He had no rivals, no thorns in his side, no arch enemies. Just another thing to turn into someone else's problem.
The Godmodder walked over to this Alistair Dragovich, intent on giving him a piece of his mind. And maybe a conveniently self contained nuke, delivered via copious amounts of shoving it down the Player's throat. Or maybe he'd just throw the player out and render his efforts useless off screen, since they're not family and he'd have no reason to be here otherwise. When he reached the player, though, he noticed they were wearing the uniform that the staff, ever diligent to be noticed as little as possible, even in descriptions, was wearing. For a brief instant, something akin to lightness filled the Godmodder's heart upon seeing the Player lower and humiliate themselves like this.
The Godmodder then looked at the ball of glowing CP, intent upon stealing and/or disrupting it to prevent whatever he decided to do with it for shits and giggles, and realized at once with the power of observation that it was just a brightly lit ball with the letters 'CP' on it! At once he looked at Alistair Dragovich, who was giving the Godmodder a smile as he tossed the now useless prop away.
It wasn't a very nice smile, which further irritated the Godmodder since, while he hated nice smiles, he also didn't want not nice smiles directed at him. Usually they either meant the person was an idiot and about to try something 'clever', or more infrequently they were about to do something that actually inconvenienced him. Neither was conductive to the Godmodder having a good time, if such a thing was possible for him.
"I already spent the CP, Godmodder," The Player known as Alistair said casually, letting a random speedy child snatch up the CP labeled glowing ball and run away screaming. "And it's about to come into effect... now."
And then suddenly, everyone's name tags changed to 'Hello, my name is: JOEbob'. This was a surprise, since the Godmodder didn't notice the nametags on any of the guests before now, but he rightly assumed that spacetime was either bending to a Player's whims, or that he didn't notice because he truly gave that little of a shit about these annoying people.
What was truly baffling, though, was that then they all began shifting positions to completely surround the Godmodder. A couple of children even make their way into the rafters and under the floor. Their placement is just enough to block off shots of his 'The Laser that will Kill JOEbob in one hit and ignore all his defenses as well as anything else that he or anyone else does to try and stop this unstoppable laser' from those directions! He only made the connection, naturally, because it was one of the more relatively important moves that has come up and he's not an idiot, unlike the rest of reality. Well, unlike the rest of Reality 1, which if he had his way would be overwritten by his idea of a superior Reality 2.
"All of your family is now named JOEbob. And since killing them invalidates your King of the Hill status, you can't attack JOEbob and kill them without taking someone else out with that same laser blast as well, assuming you're even able to succeed with it." Alistair Dragovich smiled a vicious smile which the Godmodder assumed he was making because the Player thought this ploy was actually impressive and problematic as opposed to mind-numbingly shallow and stupid. "Also, there seems to be a curious effect on your family members now that they've gotten the name change. I would say I wasn't expecting this, but that is only true because I wasn't expecting this phenomenon to occur so quickly."
The Godmodder felt a sense of dread. This increased how annoyed he was since he, according to himself, could not get annoyed and therefore a Player had to be making him annoyed as part of this convoluted Action. Or, in this case, this convoluted expenditure of the Charge Point. He looked around, but it wasn't until the sound hit his ears that he realized the horror happening all around him.
The entire family all began to debate and get into discourse. Including the children and infants. All around, the chatter was like one huge room of lawyers and debate club enthusiasts. From television shows and little alcholoic drink beverage umbrellas to more relevant issues like getting chocolate instead of being sweared at and havuing children. In other words, nothing that interested the Godmodder in the slightest, normally.
The real horror came from the ever dawning realization that they ALL sounded like JOEbob! Right down to the quotation of that stupid, obnoxious tutorial periodically interrupting their speech at random intervals! The Godmodder tried to block out the sound, but the lawyerese weasels its way in, since the sounds themselves aren't damaging to the Godmodder in spite of the irritation the contents may provide.
"But really, if one understands the intricacies of morality and its purpose, then there truly is no greater imperative than for him to reproduce via genetic material and mating practices. To continue the survival of the species is a moral imperative since that is has been one of the biggest, primary goals of any animal and sapient species from their inception, according to their natural behaviours and as such is in accordance with the laws of nature itself. Of course, there is also pragmatism to consider, but that too is trivial to deal with. After all, nothing can live forever and as such the lack of replenishment will lead to the loss of the effects one has had upon reality in general, and anything that does shall need some form of accompaniment in order to get the socialization that one needs to remain psychologically sound. Without either of these, personal health shall begin to deteriorate at a rapid pace, leading to the worsening of one's personal condition, which in accordance to several famous philosophers is the greatest personal good there is and thus positive in accordance to most definitions, personal or otherwise, of the concept. That is proof of the morality of giving me grandkids in such a way that-"
"-it has already been established, by the definition in the Oxford dictionary, that gender is clearly in reference to cultural and social differences rather than biological ones. The idea that some people don't understand this distinction between the social and cultural differences of people in terms of gender and that their biological physiology that has much less importance in terms of their personhood has a different word in which the proper term would be-"
"-sex. In a manner of speaking, using such terminology that is considered foul around me can be detrimental to my mental and emotional well being as I try to understand functionality and ideas that I am not yet equipped to handle. Additionally the emotional method of your verbal delivery, as indicated by your low pitched voice and animalistic growls, is quite frightening to me due to my limited experience with fear and my limited ability to cope with such emotions, to say nothing of the lack of emotional coping skills to handle my dad being the source of this fear and thus adding an inclination of distrust, betrayal, and confusion to the mix. However, if one were to provide me with chocolate instead of using crass terminology, I would be able to process the nutrients and chemicals in ways that my tastebuds define as-"
"GOO! Googoo gaa ga blaaah. Bluahhhh goo goo wa goo. Hehehehaaa! Yoooo Gabba-"
"-gabba is clearly an underrated masterpiece. This is demonstrated by the facts that underrated refers to the lack of adequate ratings as defined by television broadcasting reviewers, whose sole job it is to take arbitrary criteria to form an objective format for others to break down and convert into pre-made opinions to make more efficient choices with. If we choose this terminologies, then if the ratings are too low and this causes a distinct underflow of viewership to the aforementioned title, then the appropriate prefix of the word under is appropriate here. There are additionally factors to consider and extrapolate from these facts. But to get a move on before descending into much needed pendantistry, one must then defined the words masterpiece, which is a bit trickier. After all, any particular search in associating the term with art leads to the general conclusion that anything worth bearing the title of masterpiece in any format must require it to be in one singular piece, hence its part in the word itself. However, Yo Gabba Gabba is a television show comprised of several seasons and as such comprised of several episodes which are, in turn, comprised of many different yet occasionally related skits. This fractal nature of viewership would, in any traditional sense, shatter the standard ideals of something being in one piece. Thus additional factors to be narrowed down into-"
"-rather miniature umbrellas! In fact, this marvellous drink is quite abnormal in its obsession, since it is already a liquid, and while water is quite known for its diluting capacities, it is also known for restoring hydration, which is something I think youngsters today don't appreciate due to their poor dietary habits, such as drinking them newfangled sodas that seem to be all the rage. I think this is a relevant factor because of their commitment to such unhealthy lifestyles, which is impressive despite the fact that their educational programs, as awful as they are, seem to promote enough relevant dietary information for-"
-the Godmodder's rage to have enough of this shit. He raises his powerful charged hand-
"Ah-ah!" Alistair says cheekily. "If you kill these people, you forfeit the King of the Hill title. Now, you COULD say that doing so wouldn't work. After all, when the King of the Hill game was invalidated, you just rudely said that it wouldn't work because you said so to poor Piono. This would not be so different, except that by violating the agreement here and now, it means that you would rather give up your title to commit murder than keep it. Which is a valid way of viewing things, and thus you'd lose your title because you effectively gave it up even if you didn't formally renounce it."
Then the Player's voice got quiet. So quiet, it could easily be drowned out by the rest of the noise of the party if it didn't carry such a distinctive edge that it cut through the rest of the chatter to be heard. It makes perfect literary sense, and as such it makes even more perfect sense in this scenario for that to be how noise and sound physically worked. And even if anyone lodged a valid, formal protest, the Godmodder would always be on alert for potential threats, and this quiet, near emotionless tone hit all the check boxes for such potential threats save for the act of violence itself.
"Plus, this maddening party is only for two more turns! I'm sure you could hold off for THAT long, since you're the Godmodder and therefore have INFINITE patience, right? To hold off so you can have your cake and eat it too, as the saying goes?" Alistair's features suddenly take on a vengeful look as he visibly starts shaking once more and restrains himself from grabbing the Godmodder before him. "Or is it going to be like the instance in which you bombed my city before the time you gave the evacuees to get out of there was up? Where you decide that you aren't good enough and just toss your word aside like you toss aside other people's lives. Which is it, you son of a bitch? ARE YOU A MAN OF YOUR WORD, OR ARE YOU A FUCKING IMPULSIVE PIECE OF SHIT!?"
Then, Alistair's left eye began to flicker with burning embers. It only flickered, though, due to the eye being too moist with tears and thus inadvertently putting the flame out. Just like his other eye, sans the flaming effect the left one had that his right eye currently lacked.
"Wait, there's no need to answer. I already know which one it is."
And with that, Alistair's repertoire of Actions and Action-like charges was truly expended. But it seems a bit of character was leaking out of him at last. And it wasn't the usual 'Super nice guy' or 'cunning trickster' archetypes he favored either.
The personality that was being displayed here is the more personal reason he is here. The one that, even when failure had him gripped in despair and even if his primary goal of saving everyone's souls might be in jeopardy, would still drive him to fight the Godmodder. Whether this will get expanded upon, or instead be cruelly cut off before it can truly unfold, only time will tell.
But first-
"Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration three, Codename, JOEc."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
The Godmodder's screams of anger, which are NOT because of how far he's been pushed according to him but because it was a coincidentally cathartic and strategic decision, drown out the rest of it. It does not, however, drown out all of the chattering of the family, which is still going strong. If he does not want to be rid of King of the Hill right now, Alistair hopes that the temptation to throw it away is now much stronger than it had been before.
Edit:
Tl;Dr because the post is long -
Action 1: Healing through rage.
Action 2 & 3: Trapping the Godmodder at a Family Dinner part for 2 turns. Alistair is currently helping with the catering in order to taunt the Godmodder and be close to the action. This is explicitly done before JOEbob's post to head off the Godmodder's near inevitable revenge for his post.
CP 1: JOEbobified the family members to force the Godmodder to hold off on finishing his charge until the end of the party or to give up his King of the Hill status to attack with impunity immediately. Implied to be after Actions 2 and 3, but before the JOEbob post.
EDIT 2: Clarified a thing or two in the first Edit and took JOEbob's suggestions.
Even before he had a reason to fight, Alistair has always hated powerlessness. For a while, he felt like he didn't need to feel that way again, at least for the rest of the Godmodder fight. After all, all of the Players were strong, resourceful, and able to bend reality to their whims. There was no such thing as powerlessness here.
No, even no he wasn't powerless. That was the wrong word. Alistair thinks about what the right word was that described his feelings on the matter.
The Player realizes that the word he was looking for was 'helplessness'. The sensation overtook him, causing his entire body to shake and rattle with an intense, defiant fury. Hot tears roll down from his eyes as he lets out a shrill, furious scream.
"Really? REALLY? GOSHDAMN FUCKING REALLY!? He's just going to do that? He's just going to throw a tantrum because of those posts!? And just kill him like that?" Alistair takes in another huge, deep breath. "What about the rest of us? This is bullshit! If he can do that to JOEbob, then we are all FUCKED. Why is he even pretending we can stop him? What purpose does this serve? Either the Godmodder is an idiot of the Highest Order, or he's bluffing, or- or- or- AUGH! FUCKING ASSHOLE!"
Then he stills as quickly as the shouting came. During this moment of calm fury and lucid anger, he draws upon his power. That power responds in kind, seeping into his fury and giving it shape and form as Emotional Spectrum energy. What happens next is only natural for this sort of concentration, even if without the raw reality warping of a Player the ritual needed would be extravagantly long and complicated. Technology made out of the near magical energies produced by emotions tended to need such methods, after all.
The rage has now condensed itself into a red ring of pure emotional energy. Before it can turn his blood into plasma or some other horrible thing, he lifts a hand up and then he snaps it. The ring evaporates, turning into a fine red mist that condenses from strange, nonstard energy produced by emotions into more standard forms of energy and then into pure physical matter. The matter joins and configures itself into organic molecule compounds in the wounded areas of Alistair's injuries and joins the flesh together. Thus effectively healing himself by sacrificing a potent amount of sheer, furious anger.
With his first Action used and his mind cleared a bit, Alistair stares down the Godmodder. He closes his eyes, and thinks for a bit. He thinks on his home. His... old home.
Then he remembers a promise he made. And he opens his eyes to see the opportunity to do it with. But what should he do? There were two opportunities here. He bit the inside of his lip as his heart struggled. To be quite frank, Alistair Dragovich had never been a good decision maker, and even when he removed the personal revenge component from his plans, both of them were rather important and good ideas.
'Well,' He thought, trying to keep the apprehension out with some vague, intuitive mental trickery and maneuverings that lacked specific words. 'At least plans both start the same way. Might as well get that part out of the way first, and hope that I come to a decision by the time Phase 2 is complete.'
He smiled to himself as pulled out the paperwork he had prepared when he gave the Godmodder the King of the Hill families in the first place. He had a very specific plan, you see, but he didn't know if the Godmodder had any actual family or not. It was best to stack the deck, in this regard. He expected Phase 1 to be subverted or destroyed in some fashion. When it wasn't it gave him a lot of joy and Hope.
'After all...' Alistair had a smile and heart full of mischief as the last of the pre-prepared paperwork was submitted and approved. 'You need family, if after the success of your 'victory' as King of the Hill you're going to throw...'
But before he could finish that thought, the point of view shifts to the antagonist of this forum game. This occurs a few seconds later, so as to make sense not chronologically, but narratively.
The Godmodder, currently busy telling his latest dad that he won't give him any more money for those cheap cigarettes, then gets a flier. The dad on the other line grumbles about magically appearing fliers, meaning they both got the same one. On it is a simple declaration surrounded by vague shapes and colors, as if it was slap-dashed together by a high school student or meticulously under designed by an Art Major for style purposes:
'Welcome to the King of the Hill Post-Victory Family Dinner!*'
On the bottom of the page, with the asterisk, was '*The King of the Hill MUST be in attendance.' The legal power leaking out tf the asterisk was immediately sensed by the Godmodder, always half-expecting such shenanigans by now. Naturally, he hated those with every fiber of his being, like most things.
The Godmodder almost winces imperceptibly at the tagline, hanging up on the deadbeat dad (who was in the middle of congratulating him as the Godmodder hung up) to call his lawyer. One brief phone call later, and the Godmodder was both down a lawyer and now at the Party. Which is unfortunate since it's taking place before he can fire his charge at that irritating JOEbob.
Getting back to the topic of the party, the ENTIRE family was there, all chatting with one another. The Mother-in-Laws were all complaining about how the Godmodder didn't have enough kids yet, the brothers were all being edgy loners, the sisters were all gossiping about whether or not they'd be able to get half-off of the Godmodder Brand Makeup (or in the case of one adventurous girl, Godmodder Brand Swords) due to familial relationship status, and the dads were smoking their cigarettes and swapping awful jokes with one another.
The Godmodder looked up desperately hoping that the sprinklers would go off from the smoking- Aaand there were no sprinklers. And if a fire did start, the Godmodder would have to put it out to keep them from getting hurt, and everyone looked too stubborn and/or stupid to leave even by force, so he couldn't just end the party with a forced evacuation.
As for the Party area itself, there were an assortment of snack tables and a currently clear dance floor, but the musician was incessantly playing disco tracks, to which the grandpas were all trying to boogie while their wives looked on in either frustration or sickeningly sappy lovestruck expressions. Uncles were currently trying to shove all the snacks into their pockets, the Aunts drinking heavily, and the family who decided to defy gender norms stuck to the walls, trying to give each other support or vindication. That and they bitched about what they saw on social media, venting frustrations about the crap they saw generated by complete assholes and strangers from the internet.
Towards the back was an absurdly long buffet table that was designed to be moved to the center floor once the dancing had finished, and next to that was the playpen where the babies were being watched by family friends and cousins. The toddlers and elementary school kids also roughhoused over near them, but they didn't get nearly as much supervision and snuck away on occasion to get into trouble. Unfortunately, none of the mothers seemed to give a shit and the kids actually seemed to be ENJOYING the party, and so didn't seem to be inclined to leave either.
There were even pets at this party! The birds were in cages, at least, but the dogs were sniffing all of the butts around them, the gerbils were running about in tubes that lined the corners of this room and the crawl spaces underneath the flooring, and the ctas were complaining about not getting enough lasagna. The Godmodder suspected that, if this had occurred a month earlier, there'd be aggravatingly bright Christmas decorations to give this farce of a party even more obnoxious flavors.
In short? It was LOUD, obnoxious, and the Godmodder hated every second of it. Unfortunately, the lawyer he was on the phone with told him he had to suck it up for 2 turns so he could keep his King of the Hill status or else he'd have to give it up to leave. The lawyer that had once been the now fired lawyer's rival promised he'd look into how the Players keep pulling this shit in the meantime to see if they could at least bog it down in endless amount of red tape.
And to think that this was all set up with two Actions. Truly obnoxious, or at least that's what the Godmodder would think if he were to allow himself to appear so easily moved. At least that's what the Godmodder claims, even if reality would say otherwise.
The Godmodder was intelligent, though, and looked for entrances to the crawl spaces below in which he could enter and hide from the rest of the party without being seen. Unfortunately, they weren't designed for anyone as awesome and large as the Godmodder, and this they were ruled out because of how uncomfortable they'd be. There also weren't any restrooms to hide in, which made the Godmodder shudder because of how gross it would be if anyone else at this party needed them. He could try to hide in the kitchens, but it seems that a pair of cousins several times removed were guarding it as part of a part time gig.
Then the Godmodder saw him. A player- No, THE player who had set all of these shenanigans up in the first place. Or, at the very least, these family shenanigans that had pestered him up to this point. The obnoxious pest of a 'problem solver' was looking at his smart phone with a long look in one hand and tossing a ball of CP up and down in the other.
Either way, the man was looking smartly dressed in a white suit, black undershirt, red tie, black shoes, and black slacks. On him was the name tag 'Hello, my name is Alistair Dragovich'. It was pathetic and the signature was a cursive, nearly unreadable scrawl, but the tag itself was meticulously lined up in such a way that any inferior being would say it was perfectly straight. To the Godmodder, though, who could tell the difference between true perpendicular perfection and something that was nanometers off, this micrometer slant was truly beyond obvious.
And considering the Player wasn't trying to adjust it, they probably couldn't tell the difference themselves and was embarrassing themselves hardcore in front of their worst nemesis. Which would be hilarious, if the Godmodder cared. After all, Players came and went and got soul vored so frequently that it honestly didn't mean anything to the Godmodder. He had no rivals, no thorns in his side, no arch enemies. Just another thing to turn into someone else's problem.
The Godmodder walked over to this Alistair Dragovich, intent on giving him a piece of his mind. And maybe a conveniently self contained nuke, delivered via copious amounts of shoving it down the Player's throat. Or maybe he'd just throw the player out and render his efforts useless off screen, since they're not family and he'd have no reason to be here otherwise. When he reached the player, though, he noticed they were wearing the uniform that the staff, ever diligent to be noticed as little as possible, even in descriptions, was wearing. For a brief instant, something akin to lightness filled the Godmodder's heart upon seeing the Player lower and humiliate themselves like this.
The Godmodder then looked at the ball of glowing CP, intent upon stealing and/or disrupting it to prevent whatever he decided to do with it for shits and giggles, and realized at once with the power of observation that it was just a brightly lit ball with the letters 'CP' on it! At once he looked at Alistair Dragovich, who was giving the Godmodder a smile as he tossed the now useless prop away.
It wasn't a very nice smile, which further irritated the Godmodder since, while he hated nice smiles, he also didn't want not nice smiles directed at him. Usually they either meant the person was an idiot and about to try something 'clever', or more infrequently they were about to do something that actually inconvenienced him. Neither was conductive to the Godmodder having a good time, if such a thing was possible for him.
"I already spent the CP, Godmodder," The Player known as Alistair said casually, letting a random speedy child snatch up the CP labeled glowing ball and run away screaming. "And it's about to come into effect... now."
And then suddenly, everyone's name tags changed to 'Hello, my name is: JOEbob'. This was a surprise, since the Godmodder didn't notice the nametags on any of the guests before now, but he rightly assumed that spacetime was either bending to a Player's whims, or that he didn't notice because he truly gave that little of a shit about these annoying people.
What was truly baffling, though, was that then they all began shifting positions to completely surround the Godmodder. A couple of children even make their way into the rafters and under the floor. Their placement is just enough to block off shots of his 'The Laser that will Kill JOEbob in one hit and ignore all his defenses as well as anything else that he or anyone else does to try and stop this unstoppable laser' from those directions! He only made the connection, naturally, because it was one of the more relatively important moves that has come up and he's not an idiot, unlike the rest of reality. Well, unlike the rest of Reality 1, which if he had his way would be overwritten by his idea of a superior Reality 2.
"All of your family is now named JOEbob. And since killing them invalidates your King of the Hill status, you can't attack JOEbob and kill them without taking someone else out with that same laser blast as well, assuming you're even able to succeed with it." Alistair Dragovich smiled a vicious smile which the Godmodder assumed he was making because the Player thought this ploy was actually impressive and problematic as opposed to mind-numbingly shallow and stupid. "Also, there seems to be a curious effect on your family members now that they've gotten the name change. I would say I wasn't expecting this, but that is only true because I wasn't expecting this phenomenon to occur so quickly."
The Godmodder felt a sense of dread. This increased how annoyed he was since he, according to himself, could not get annoyed and therefore a Player had to be making him annoyed as part of this convoluted Action. Or, in this case, this convoluted expenditure of the Charge Point. He looked around, but it wasn't until the sound hit his ears that he realized the horror happening all around him.
The entire family all began to debate and get into discourse. Including the children and infants. All around, the chatter was like one huge room of lawyers and debate club enthusiasts. From television shows and little alcholoic drink beverage umbrellas to more relevant issues like getting chocolate instead of being sweared at and havuing children. In other words, nothing that interested the Godmodder in the slightest, normally.
The real horror came from the ever dawning realization that they ALL sounded like JOEbob! Right down to the quotation of that stupid, obnoxious tutorial periodically interrupting their speech at random intervals! The Godmodder tried to block out the sound, but the lawyerese weasels its way in, since the sounds themselves aren't damaging to the Godmodder in spite of the irritation the contents may provide.
"But really, if one understands the intricacies of morality and its purpose, then there truly is no greater imperative than for him to reproduce via genetic material and mating practices. To continue the survival of the species is a moral imperative since that is has been one of the biggest, primary goals of any animal and sapient species from their inception, according to their natural behaviours and as such is in accordance with the laws of nature itself. Of course, there is also pragmatism to consider, but that too is trivial to deal with. After all, nothing can live forever and as such the lack of replenishment will lead to the loss of the effects one has had upon reality in general, and anything that does shall need some form of accompaniment in order to get the socialization that one needs to remain psychologically sound. Without either of these, personal health shall begin to deteriorate at a rapid pace, leading to the worsening of one's personal condition, which in accordance to several famous philosophers is the greatest personal good there is and thus positive in accordance to most definitions, personal or otherwise, of the concept. That is proof of the morality of giving me grandkids in such a way that-"
"-it has already been established, by the definition in the Oxford dictionary, that gender is clearly in reference to cultural and social differences rather than biological ones. The idea that some people don't understand this distinction between the social and cultural differences of people in terms of gender and that their biological physiology that has much less importance in terms of their personhood has a different word in which the proper term would be-"
"-sex. In a manner of speaking, using such terminology that is considered foul around me can be detrimental to my mental and emotional well being as I try to understand functionality and ideas that I am not yet equipped to handle. Additionally the emotional method of your verbal delivery, as indicated by your low pitched voice and animalistic growls, is quite frightening to me due to my limited experience with fear and my limited ability to cope with such emotions, to say nothing of the lack of emotional coping skills to handle my dad being the source of this fear and thus adding an inclination of distrust, betrayal, and confusion to the mix. However, if one were to provide me with chocolate instead of using crass terminology, I would be able to process the nutrients and chemicals in ways that my tastebuds define as-"
"GOO! Googoo gaa ga blaaah. Bluahhhh goo goo wa goo. Hehehehaaa! Yoooo Gabba-"
"-gabba is clearly an underrated masterpiece. This is demonstrated by the facts that underrated refers to the lack of adequate ratings as defined by television broadcasting reviewers, whose sole job it is to take arbitrary criteria to form an objective format for others to break down and convert into pre-made opinions to make more efficient choices with. If we choose this terminologies, then if the ratings are too low and this causes a distinct underflow of viewership to the aforementioned title, then the appropriate prefix of the word under is appropriate here. There are additionally factors to consider and extrapolate from these facts. But to get a move on before descending into much needed pendantistry, one must then defined the words masterpiece, which is a bit trickier. After all, any particular search in associating the term with art leads to the general conclusion that anything worth bearing the title of masterpiece in any format must require it to be in one singular piece, hence its part in the word itself. However, Yo Gabba Gabba is a television show comprised of several seasons and as such comprised of several episodes which are, in turn, comprised of many different yet occasionally related skits. This fractal nature of viewership would, in any traditional sense, shatter the standard ideals of something being in one piece. Thus additional factors to be narrowed down into-"
"-rather miniature umbrellas! In fact, this marvellous drink is quite abnormal in its obsession, since it is already a liquid, and while water is quite known for its diluting capacities, it is also known for restoring hydration, which is something I think youngsters today don't appreciate due to their poor dietary habits, such as drinking them newfangled sodas that seem to be all the rage. I think this is a relevant factor because of their commitment to such unhealthy lifestyles, which is impressive despite the fact that their educational programs, as awful as they are, seem to promote enough relevant dietary information for-"
-the Godmodder's rage to have enough of this shit. He raises his powerful charged hand-
"Ah-ah!" Alistair says cheekily. "If you kill these people, you forfeit the King of the Hill title. Now, you COULD say that doing so wouldn't work. After all, when the King of the Hill game was invalidated, you just rudely said that it wouldn't work because you said so to poor Piono. This would not be so different, except that by violating the agreement here and now, it means that you would rather give up your title to commit murder than keep it. Which is a valid way of viewing things, and thus you'd lose your title because you effectively gave it up even if you didn't formally renounce it."
Then the Player's voice got quiet. So quiet, it could easily be drowned out by the rest of the noise of the party if it didn't carry such a distinctive edge that it cut through the rest of the chatter to be heard. It makes perfect literary sense, and as such it makes even more perfect sense in this scenario for that to be how noise and sound physically worked. And even if anyone lodged a valid, formal protest, the Godmodder would always be on alert for potential threats, and this quiet, near emotionless tone hit all the check boxes for such potential threats save for the act of violence itself.
"Plus, this maddening party is only for two more turns! I'm sure you could hold off for THAT long, since you're the Godmodder and therefore have INFINITE patience, right? To hold off so you can have your cake and eat it too, as the saying goes?" Alistair's features suddenly take on a vengeful look as he visibly starts shaking once more and restrains himself from grabbing the Godmodder before him. "Or is it going to be like the instance in which you bombed my city before the time you gave the evacuees to get out of there was up? Where you decide that you aren't good enough and just toss your word aside like you toss aside other people's lives. Which is it, you son of a bitch? ARE YOU A MAN OF YOUR WORD, OR ARE YOU A FUCKING IMPULSIVE PIECE OF SHIT!?"
Then, Alistair's left eye began to flicker with burning embers. It only flickered, though, due to the eye being too moist with tears and thus inadvertently putting the flame out. Just like his other eye, sans the flaming effect the left one had that his right eye currently lacked.
"Wait, there's no need to answer. I already know which one it is."
And with that, Alistair's repertoire of Actions and Action-like charges was truly expended. But it seems a bit of character was leaking out of him at last. And it wasn't the usual 'Super nice guy' or 'cunning trickster' archetypes he favored either.
The personality that was being displayed here is the more personal reason he is here. The one that, even when failure had him gripped in despair and even if his primary goal of saving everyone's souls might be in jeopardy, would still drive him to fight the Godmodder. Whether this will get expanded upon, or instead be cruelly cut off before it can truly unfold, only time will tell.
But first-
"Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration three, Codename, JOEc."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
The Godmodder's screams of anger, which are NOT because of how far he's been pushed according to him but because it was a coincidentally cathartic and strategic decision, drown out the rest of it. It does not, however, drown out all of the chattering of the family, which is still going strong. If he does not want to be rid of King of the Hill right now, Alistair hopes that the temptation to throw it away is now much stronger than it had been before.
Edit:
Tl;Dr because the post is long -
Action 1: Healing through rage.
Action 2 & 3: Trapping the Godmodder at a Family Dinner part for 2 turns. Alistair is currently helping with the catering in order to taunt the Godmodder and be close to the action. This is explicitly done before JOEbob's post to head off the Godmodder's near inevitable revenge for his post.
CP 1: JOEbobified the family members to force the Godmodder to hold off on finishing his charge until the end of the party or to give up his King of the Hill status to attack with impunity immediately. Implied to be after Actions 2 and 3, but before the JOEbob post.
EDIT 2: Clarified a thing or two in the first Edit and took JOEbob's suggestions.
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post placed in spoiler for peoples convenience
my name, the Godmodder, The laser, king of the hill, my font color, morality, the Tutorial segment, charges, actions, fire, tears, annoyance, laughter, damage, paying, legalese, lawyers, bureaucracy, or players.
Now, I think, having determined the way in which I was reminded of my unspecified thing, we should move on to...
Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection one!"
"crawling up backs!"
"You see, Godmodder, the handbook says to do what
"Post Two, Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration three, Codename, bJOEc."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
">For ease of reading, I've decided to implement a color-coded header system. The color of the header for a section, subsection, or phase will be color-coded, in a manner that may or may not change every time it occurs, but always relates in some unspecified way to the content of the section."
">This Tutorial sector has been inserted here as it does not become relevant until this point."
">Due to the complexity of this system and the possibility of edge cases, This tutorial will often be updated. However, for posterity it is best you, dear reader, be aware of all past versions."
"> When a Tutorial//Introduction Update occurs or is thought up, the old version will be inserted at the current bottom of the document. This allows for relative chronology to be preserved in as unintuitive a manner as possible."
">>Such insertions may occur in the middle of a sentence, paragraph, word, or other literary construct. Depending on memory, it is possible the argument will continue unabated, or that I will insert tarrying amounts of male cow excrement and pretend that's what I planned all along."
">>When a Tutorial//Introduction is inserted, There will be a color-coded header of the gold-grey-gold-brown-gold-pink-cyan-variable color-cyan color sequence, unless I change my mind."
">>>I have already changed my mind at least once, but possibly more."
">>>At the end of the Introduction, there will be no header, as the header for the relevant section has already been shown, And it would be repetative. While lengthening the post is desired, doing so with repeated, copy-pasted text would surely be annoying to slog through, and not interesting nor convenient whatsoever."
">The Tutorial will separate sentences and ideas using right angle-brackets. These are located after each time the enter key was used, unless they aren't."
">Now then, what are the divisions I'm using? Well, a subsection is generally a single argument or paragraph, such as the Tactically initial summarization.
">A Section is a
">set of subsections which shares the same theme, such as Section one, which consists of all literal interpretations of Pionos initial request on discord. "
">A Phase is a larger combination of Sections which serve the same purpose, like Phase one, where I summarize my major, non-hidden arguments for any given point. "
">>It helps make the rest of the post more monotonous to read, raising the likelihood that Moniker will miss one of the hidden linchpins of an action, allowing me to extend the debate over multiple posts."
">>>>>The Phase-Section-Subsection listing at the beginning of every tutorial are nonsensical; their numbers are the position in the alphabet of the letters J, O, And E."
">>>>>> If I were to somehow reach phase ten, I would add 26 to each number, indicating capital. If I were to reach Phase thirty-six, I would simply stop... Hahahaha no I would add another 62 to indicate the question of bolding."
">>> which buys me time to lengthen my responses overall, thus making the entire process more enjoyable for everyone, which means Moniker has even more reasons to give me what I want"
">>>>>> after all, think of all the fun times he gets, free of charge!"
">>>> I intend to include this phase in all future posts of length greater then one computer monitor height."
">Subsections, Sections, and Phases will tend to be in a simple and intuitive ascending order, unless I don't feel like it."
">>One possible reason for Order changes from that of intuition is that, during the writing of a Phase one section or subsection, I might get too into the writing of the logic and arguing."
">>>This would result in an overly long subsection or section which clearly belongs in Phase two, possibly having its own articles (which are like subsections of a subsection)"
">>>>However, depending on the state of the post at the time, the time of day, what color the last non-cyan color was, whether I've scratched at my forhead recently, the state of my desk, what food is available, the price of a Popsicle, and the current chance of rain, the bloated subsection and its Articles may remain in its original position, resulting in a skip forwards in the attack, though the skipped text will be added, eventually."
">>>>Articles will be common in phase two and, if I get around to it, Phase three, due to Phase two being an expansion on all concepts introduced in Phase one.
ever it takes to get me off your back."
"In this case, all that really requires is letting go of King of the Hill."
"If you want me off your back permanently, you also need to finish the 5-action debt thing, I suppose."
"But what that requires is Not 'Kill JOEbob', nor 'use a contract to get JOEbob to shut up'."
"I mean, all I would have to do is appoint a legal adviser and have Them talk about the 5-action debt. In fact, I already appointed some legal advisers in the event of magical NDAs or similar. Specifically, the entire playerbase can advise, and whoever makes the most profitable advice can decide the end result iff I am legally unable to do so myself. In any case, Your contract- despite its length- is full of holes simply because it can only affect me."
"No, if you wanted to get me off your back, it would be simplest to 1) let go of King of the Hill, and 2) give me the actions owed."
"Or you could do a contract which gives me something, like 4 godmodder actions or whatnot, in exchange for never doing joebobian negotations against you except with regard to that contract, and then just... follow through on that contract. instead of trying to get out of it. there, solved."
"Your trainer would be ashamed. I mean, honestly."
Simultaneously, or perhaps several weeks ago, I start stealth-making myself a will, in the event of my death:
"Also this contract is a sham regardless; assuming your laser actually fits the description comprising its name, you would be unable to stop charging it, as that would be stopping this unstoppable laser from killing me. As such, The laser either A, is a bluff- In which case I can sorta just... ignore it, I'll be fine- Or B, is the truth, in which case the contract won't help. Since you wouldn't stop it if I do sign, The only thing that would happen is the 'whatever i think is reasonable' payment. Now, since I've already gotten around the 5 action debt limit- by appointing legal advisors- and the KotH limit- I can just ask another player to do my KotH related thing if I want to, and I already did my KotH post- all that's left is getting around the entity limiter, which I can get around by giving other players CP and asking them to do it for me."
"So, if everyones attack shields and other attempts to keep me, the person who was recording all this stuff, from being killed by the laser fail" and it targets the non-dreamself-self and it lowers me down to mortal wounded and still has energy to spare "Then I signed your contract, and if I die my legal advisers can determine a reasonable penalty. However, I would like to also prepare for such an outcome, which is the point of a will."
"So let's hop to it! what do I think is reasonable if you break the contract? Well, the thing you're trying to gain from this contract is not owing me 5 actions, and me not trying to remove KotH or make entities. Now, let's start with the 5 actions. Since that's what you're trying to get in exchange for not shooting me, if you shoot me then that means you should have to pay back for all the things that would otherwise have been conceded to you. So, you would owe me- or, since i'd be dead, my legal advisers - which is to say the collective playerbase- 5 of your actions. So, from probably owing me 5 actions, you would go to definitely owing the players 5 actions. I think a slight increase in the cost to you is worth it, given your deceit in this scenario.
Now, next is the not-remove-KotH. this would be simple- since you gained this but broke your deal, relinquish KotH. whew, done. Though, that would mean the player-owed actions would need to be splittable into a 4-actions-called-on-one-round-and-then-one-the-next setup to keep it from being only 4 actions worth.
Lastly, me making entities. I'm not entirely sure why you wanted that, which makes it harder. We can try to figure it out, or we can just add another GM action or some such.
I'm trying to be fair, and a GM action might be overpaying, so i'll try to figure it out.
My entities tend to be snowballers. However, I don't directly summon them very often. However, I do have the Nexus in stasis. If detrapping and activating it counts as an entity, this could be to counter the Nexus, a much more potent then average snowball. However, this feels like a more detail-oriented meaning. A more probable reason is you simply wish to inconvenience me as payback for annoying you, or some such. So, let's pick something inconvenient but not unbearable. You're stronger, so keeping you from summoning entities is a much bigger price. How about... hm... 'Whenever you summon an entity with health between 299,000 and 1,010,000, if the name does not contain "JOE-brand consulting and writing at JOE Incorporated, the only company composed entirely of copies of JOE" within it, that entity will fail to act at least once during its lifetime, with its action being replaced with the creation of a JOE incorporated robot, which will produce one joe-like post (which nobody has to read, it just acts like it happened)on something i might have written about, if it survives the round.
Yeah, that's a good penalty. GMs was 'you can't do this without going through some hoops', so the Godmodder penalty is 'no summoning decentish entities without going through this random hoop'."
"So ha! Either the contract gets you nothing because I don't sign it, Or you have to lose KotH, pay 5 actions, and suffer an annoying but not particularly dangerous penalty."
".... or I guess there's the remote possibility where you manage to stop the laser just in time. But since you're hearing this, we know exactly what happened."
"alsoileaveallmyentitiesandstuffto[The Ego],ifimdead"
"This has been the end of JOEbobs death will. *BEEEP*"
[sWith the will over, I continue:[a/]
"Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection Two!"
"you'll Regret."
"So, that throne of yours... it stops combat-capable N-things from changing, right? Well, consider this. There is an infetisimal but real possibility of the Terminal exploding and harming something. As such, it is combat-capable. So, The Entity with the ability known as 'Crush' which levitates things has actually been levitating the Terminal all this time. since it's inset in the wall, it didn't move, but it hasn't actually made any progress at all so far! As such, we will have some 5 or so additional rounds to beat your face in after the boss battles end compared to what you might have expected."
"So there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection Three!"
"Manual Control"
"The Godmodder considers what to do for a moment. He checks his manual, given to him by his trainer godmodder. He flips to the relevant section..."
His Manual, you say? Well, I guess he doesn't know that...
I WROTE THE MANUAL!
possibly. depends how you define it.
you see, the manual was given by a trainer Godmodder. Players are Like Godmodders. Also, I have a history of giving him things, like... uh... legendary weapons! Also, knives. HEY GODMODDER DID YOU EVER END UP USING THAT KNIFE I GAVE YOU? YOU KNOW, THE KNIFE? Anyway since I've given him things before, it's plausible that I'm the one who gave him this thing. Especially since doing 'whatever it takes to get me off his back' can be interpreted two ways- kill'm, or appease'm. Now, the Godmodder interpretted it as 'kill'. However, given the low effectiveness of trying to kill me- I totally planned for everything prior to just now yep, and also I'm a goat- It's clear the wiser manual-writer meant to appease me. However, who would want me appeased? Why, me myself! therefor, I wrote the manual. From this we can infer that I also wrote a suggestion for what to do in the event of your attempt failing- Bribe the JOEbob- And what to do if it led to more JOEbobs- Kill all the non-player ones. Furthermore, this means the Godmodder has been acting based on what I suggested for quite some time, suggesting that The Godmodders actions have, in fact, been serving my purposes for quite some time in non-obvious ways. for example, perhaps he accidentally made taint approximately 10921379813982130873298642873528623 times stronger by eating a pencil.
None of that actually matters, however, because I've written down the words 'the manual' several times before, which means I definitely, technically wrote the manual. Anyway.
Since I definitely, technically wrote the manual, I can decide what the manual tells the Godmodder from now on, and I make sure the future suggestions will all help me. For example, if the Godmodder consults it in the near future to find out how to respond to me now, the answer is very specific, and that specific answer actually helps me, probably, maybe."
Next, I explain why this second post has less of the formatting and coloring its supposed to have.
It's because my schools internet isn't but was. Since it isn't, I can't open the edit or quote menus, and so I can't copy color-text. since it was, I had alastairs post open. since it isn't, I can't re-read alastairs post because I was trying to quote it and that got the webpage the slam shut and now i can't load it.
of course, at the time you see this it is, but when i wrote this it isn't.
Incredible, truly. Made me laugh quite a bit, I applaud you. (side-note: if you want to make the imitations even more accurate, make the text bolded times-new-roman with size 4, which is what I always use) Now, That reminds me, in a roundabout sort of way of course, which I won't go into now... Or perhaps I should? Oh, very well then. That reminds me of the thing I haven't named due to that if I named it you would know what it is before i intend to reveal what it is, because it was related to several factors touched on in your post, specifically at least two of the following with the following reffering to the factors I shall list in the near future while coloring them a bluer shade of cyan then the rest of my text in order to distinguish 'factors' from 'normal talky-talk talking'. Now, here they are:
my name, the Godmodder, The laser, king of the hill, my font color, morality, the Tutorial segment, charges, actions, fire, tears, annoyance, laughter, damage, paying, legalese, lawyers, bureaucracy, or players.
Now, I think, having determined the way in which I was reminded of my unspecified thing, we should move on to...
Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection one!"
"crawling up backs!"
"You see, Godmodder, the handbook says to do what
"Post Two, Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration three, Codename, bJOEc."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
">For ease of reading, I've decided to implement a color-coded header system. The color of the header for a section, subsection, or phase will be color-coded, in a manner that may or may not change every time it occurs, but always relates in some unspecified way to the content of the section."
">This Tutorial sector has been inserted here as it does not become relevant until this point."
">Due to the complexity of this system and the possibility of edge cases, This tutorial will often be updated. However, for posterity it is best you, dear reader, be aware of all past versions."
"> When a Tutorial//Introduction Update occurs or is thought up, the old version will be inserted at the current bottom of the document. This allows for relative chronology to be preserved in as unintuitive a manner as possible."
">>Such insertions may occur in the middle of a sentence, paragraph, word, or other literary construct. Depending on memory, it is possible the argument will continue unabated, or that I will insert tarrying amounts of male cow excrement and pretend that's what I planned all along."
">>When a Tutorial//Introduction is inserted, There will be a color-coded header of the gold-grey-gold-brown-gold-pink-cyan-variable color-cyan color sequence, unless I change my mind."
">>>I have already changed my mind at least once, but possibly more."
">>>At the end of the Introduction, there will be no header, as the header for the relevant section has already been shown, And it would be repetative. While lengthening the post is desired, doing so with repeated, copy-pasted text would surely be annoying to slog through, and not interesting nor convenient whatsoever."
">The Tutorial will separate sentences and ideas using right angle-brackets. These are located after each time the enter key was used, unless they aren't."
">Now then, what are the divisions I'm using? Well, a subsection is generally a single argument or paragraph, such as the Tactically initial summarization.
">A Section is a
">set of subsections which shares the same theme, such as Section one, which consists of all literal interpretations of Pionos initial request on discord. "
">A Phase is a larger combination of Sections which serve the same purpose, like Phase one, where I summarize my major, non-hidden arguments for any given point. "
">>It helps make the rest of the post more monotonous to read, raising the likelihood that Moniker will miss one of the hidden linchpins of an action, allowing me to extend the debate over multiple posts."
">>>>>The Phase-Section-Subsection listing at the beginning of every tutorial are nonsensical; their numbers are the position in the alphabet of the letters J, O, And E."
">>>>>> If I were to somehow reach phase ten, I would add 26 to each number, indicating capital. If I were to reach Phase thirty-six, I would simply stop... Hahahaha no I would add another 62 to indicate the question of bolding."
">>> which buys me time to lengthen my responses overall, thus making the entire process more enjoyable for everyone, which means Moniker has even more reasons to give me what I want"
">>>>>> after all, think of all the fun times he gets, free of charge!"
">>>> I intend to include this phase in all future posts of length greater then one computer monitor height."
">Subsections, Sections, and Phases will tend to be in a simple and intuitive ascending order, unless I don't feel like it."
">>One possible reason for Order changes from that of intuition is that, during the writing of a Phase one section or subsection, I might get too into the writing of the logic and arguing."
">>>This would result in an overly long subsection or section which clearly belongs in Phase two, possibly having its own articles (which are like subsections of a subsection)"
">>>>However, depending on the state of the post at the time, the time of day, what color the last non-cyan color was, whether I've scratched at my forhead recently, the state of my desk, what food is available, the price of a Popsicle, and the current chance of rain, the bloated subsection and its Articles may remain in its original position, resulting in a skip forwards in the attack, though the skipped text will be added, eventually."
">>>>Articles will be common in phase two and, if I get around to it, Phase three, due to Phase two being an expansion on all concepts introduced in Phase one.
ever it takes to get me off your back."
"In this case, all that really requires is letting go of King of the Hill."
"If you want me off your back permanently, you also need to finish the 5-action debt thing, I suppose."
"But what that requires is Not 'Kill JOEbob', nor 'use a contract to get JOEbob to shut up'."
"I mean, all I would have to do is appoint a legal adviser and have Them talk about the 5-action debt. In fact, I already appointed some legal advisers in the event of magical NDAs or similar. Specifically, the entire playerbase can advise, and whoever makes the most profitable advice can decide the end result iff I am legally unable to do so myself. In any case, Your contract- despite its length- is full of holes simply because it can only affect me."
"No, if you wanted to get me off your back, it would be simplest to 1) let go of King of the Hill, and 2) give me the actions owed."
"Or you could do a contract which gives me something, like 4 godmodder actions or whatnot, in exchange for never doing joebobian negotations against you except with regard to that contract, and then just... follow through on that contract. instead of trying to get out of it. there, solved."
"Your trainer would be ashamed. I mean, honestly."
Simultaneously, or perhaps several weeks ago, I start stealth-making myself a will, in the event of my death:
"Also this contract is a sham regardless; assuming your laser actually fits the description comprising its name, you would be unable to stop charging it, as that would be stopping this unstoppable laser from killing me. As such, The laser either A, is a bluff- In which case I can sorta just... ignore it, I'll be fine- Or B, is the truth, in which case the contract won't help. Since you wouldn't stop it if I do sign, The only thing that would happen is the 'whatever i think is reasonable' payment. Now, since I've already gotten around the 5 action debt limit- by appointing legal advisors- and the KotH limit- I can just ask another player to do my KotH related thing if I want to, and I already did my KotH post- all that's left is getting around the entity limiter, which I can get around by giving other players CP and asking them to do it for me."
"So, if everyones attack shields and other attempts to keep me, the person who was recording all this stuff, from being killed by the laser fail" and it targets the non-dreamself-self and it lowers me down to mortal wounded and still has energy to spare "Then I signed your contract, and if I die my legal advisers can determine a reasonable penalty. However, I would like to also prepare for such an outcome, which is the point of a will."
"So let's hop to it! what do I think is reasonable if you break the contract? Well, the thing you're trying to gain from this contract is not owing me 5 actions, and me not trying to remove KotH or make entities. Now, let's start with the 5 actions. Since that's what you're trying to get in exchange for not shooting me, if you shoot me then that means you should have to pay back for all the things that would otherwise have been conceded to you. So, you would owe me- or, since i'd be dead, my legal advisers - which is to say the collective playerbase- 5 of your actions. So, from probably owing me 5 actions, you would go to definitely owing the players 5 actions. I think a slight increase in the cost to you is worth it, given your deceit in this scenario.
Now, next is the not-remove-KotH. this would be simple- since you gained this but broke your deal, relinquish KotH. whew, done. Though, that would mean the player-owed actions would need to be splittable into a 4-actions-called-on-one-round-and-then-one-the-next setup to keep it from being only 4 actions worth.
Lastly, me making entities. I'm not entirely sure why you wanted that, which makes it harder. We can try to figure it out, or we can just add another GM action or some such.
I'm trying to be fair, and a GM action might be overpaying, so i'll try to figure it out.
My entities tend to be snowballers. However, I don't directly summon them very often. However, I do have the Nexus in stasis. If detrapping and activating it counts as an entity, this could be to counter the Nexus, a much more potent then average snowball. However, this feels like a more detail-oriented meaning. A more probable reason is you simply wish to inconvenience me as payback for annoying you, or some such. So, let's pick something inconvenient but not unbearable. You're stronger, so keeping you from summoning entities is a much bigger price. How about... hm... 'Whenever you summon an entity with health between 299,000 and 1,010,000, if the name does not contain "JOE-brand consulting and writing at JOE Incorporated, the only company composed entirely of copies of JOE" within it, that entity will fail to act at least once during its lifetime, with its action being replaced with the creation of a JOE incorporated robot, which will produce one joe-like post (which nobody has to read, it just acts like it happened)on something i might have written about, if it survives the round.
Yeah, that's a good penalty. GMs was 'you can't do this without going through some hoops', so the Godmodder penalty is 'no summoning decentish entities without going through this random hoop'."
"So ha! Either the contract gets you nothing because I don't sign it, Or you have to lose KotH, pay 5 actions, and suffer an annoying but not particularly dangerous penalty."
".... or I guess there's the remote possibility where you manage to stop the laser just in time. But since you're hearing this, we know exactly what happened."
"alsoileaveallmyentitiesandstuffto[The Ego],ifimdead"
"This has been the end of JOEbobs death will. *BEEEP*"
[sWith the will over, I continue:[a/]
"Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection Two!"
"you'll Regret."
"So, that throne of yours... it stops combat-capable N-things from changing, right? Well, consider this. There is an infetisimal but real possibility of the Terminal exploding and harming something. As such, it is combat-capable. So, The Entity with the ability known as 'Crush' which levitates things has actually been levitating the Terminal all this time. since it's inset in the wall, it didn't move, but it hasn't actually made any progress at all so far! As such, we will have some 5 or so additional rounds to beat your face in after the boss battles end compared to what you might have expected."
"So there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Post Two, Phase Two, Section Three, Subsection Three!"
"Manual Control"
"The Godmodder considers what to do for a moment. He checks his manual, given to him by his trainer godmodder. He flips to the relevant section..."
His Manual, you say? Well, I guess he doesn't know that...
I WROTE THE MANUAL!
possibly. depends how you define it.
you see, the manual was given by a trainer Godmodder. Players are Like Godmodders. Also, I have a history of giving him things, like... uh... legendary weapons! Also, knives. HEY GODMODDER DID YOU EVER END UP USING THAT KNIFE I GAVE YOU? YOU KNOW, THE KNIFE? Anyway since I've given him things before, it's plausible that I'm the one who gave him this thing. Especially since doing 'whatever it takes to get me off his back' can be interpreted two ways- kill'm, or appease'm. Now, the Godmodder interpretted it as 'kill'. However, given the low effectiveness of trying to kill me- I totally planned for everything prior to just now yep, and also I'm a goat- It's clear the wiser manual-writer meant to appease me. However, who would want me appeased? Why, me myself! therefor, I wrote the manual. From this we can infer that I also wrote a suggestion for what to do in the event of your attempt failing- Bribe the JOEbob- And what to do if it led to more JOEbobs- Kill all the non-player ones. Furthermore, this means the Godmodder has been acting based on what I suggested for quite some time, suggesting that The Godmodders actions have, in fact, been serving my purposes for quite some time in non-obvious ways. for example, perhaps he accidentally made taint approximately 10921379813982130873298642873528623 times stronger by eating a pencil.
None of that actually matters, however, because I've written down the words 'the manual' several times before, which means I definitely, technically wrote the manual. Anyway.
Since I definitely, technically wrote the manual, I can decide what the manual tells the Godmodder from now on, and I make sure the future suggestions will all help me. For example, if the Godmodder consults it in the near future to find out how to respond to me now, the answer is very specific, and that specific answer actually helps me, probably, maybe."
Next, I explain why this second post has less of the formatting and coloring its supposed to have.
It's because my schools internet isn't but was. Since it isn't, I can't open the edit or quote menus, and so I can't copy color-text. since it was, I had alastairs post open. since it isn't, I can't re-read alastairs post because I was trying to quote it and that got the webpage the slam shut and now i can't load it.
of course, at the time you see this it is, but when i wrote this it isn't.
pionoplayer
The Destroyer
Okay, so, I'm gonna try and post here, but I'm not feeling well at the moment, and still debating whether or not it's really a good idea for me to stick around.
So, 3 CP charged, up until I obtain the mental stability to make something interesting.
So, 3 CP charged, up until I obtain the mental stability to make something interesting.
Leah just charges +3 CP herself due to running out of time, even though charging isn't a good idea right now.
Looking over the field of battle I can tell that the unsealed Summonspitter is about to go down from all the attacks heading it's way, So that should leave the Throne wide open to attack.
'Right so last time I shot at the throne it was able move just enough to not hit the one sitting upon it. Lets try distracting it first, eh?' With that I decide to make a wish.
Focus action: - "Tag Team!"
'I wish for a temporary doppelganger to detract the Throne!' Suddenly in a flash of light a another me appears. We both look at each-other for a few moments and wave to one another. After that I speak to him. "Hey, would you mind drawing the Throne's attention?' The other mind gives a nod and a thumbs up. Quickly I hand him over my rifle for his use.
-The Thone's Perspective-
As the Tyrant sitting on his throne looks across the battlefield with some interest his computer takes notice of a projectile heading towards its user. But having already suffered one attack from this earlier it is ready and dodges the bullet with out any trouble. Quickly the onboard computer spots the Captain.Cat and runs simulations about his next move. It predicts perfectly the next shot coming by about 0.7 seconds before it fires and dodges to the left.
It then predicts the path of the follow up shot and the one after that dodging each one with out much effort. Then it dodges a secession of 6 shots by dodging right, left, up, up down and then left. As it dodges the final shot it detects a spatial anomaly appearing next to it's projected path to dodge. Just before the computer could make a reaction to this it spots Captain.Cat standing on the other side of the Anomaly with a knife in hand just has he lunges forward at the Tyrant sitting on the Throne.
The Throne manages to move a few centimeters to the right of the portal which prevents the blade from striking the Tyrant's heart dead center, missing only by a few centimeters from the heart but it is still rips into the torso of the Tyrant which causes a fair deal of damage to them.
-Back to Captain.Cat's Perspective-
"DAMN IT!" I curse as the Throne shots away from the portal I had made to get at the Tyrant sitting on The Throne. I had just missed a fatal blow against them by a few centimeters. 'Fuck if only I had been faster.' I curse to myself as I let the portal close.
Looking over I see my doppelganger walking over looking sympathetic and pats me on the back. "Eh, well thanks anyway." I say to them. they give a nod and them holds out my rifle to me. "Times up already?" I ask looking little disappointed. My doppelganger gives a shug as if to say sorry. "Alright, Thank you for the help anyway." I say to him before taking the rifle. He nods before giving a salute to me which I return just before He vanishes into thin air. (3 CP)
'Right so last time I shot at the throne it was able move just enough to not hit the one sitting upon it. Lets try distracting it first, eh?' With that I decide to make a wish.
Focus action: - "Tag Team!"
'I wish for a temporary doppelganger to detract the Throne!' Suddenly in a flash of light a another me appears. We both look at each-other for a few moments and wave to one another. After that I speak to him. "Hey, would you mind drawing the Throne's attention?' The other mind gives a nod and a thumbs up. Quickly I hand him over my rifle for his use.
-The Thone's Perspective-
As the Tyrant sitting on his throne looks across the battlefield with some interest his computer takes notice of a projectile heading towards its user. But having already suffered one attack from this earlier it is ready and dodges the bullet with out any trouble. Quickly the onboard computer spots the Captain.Cat and runs simulations about his next move. It predicts perfectly the next shot coming by about 0.7 seconds before it fires and dodges to the left.
It then predicts the path of the follow up shot and the one after that dodging each one with out much effort. Then it dodges a secession of 6 shots by dodging right, left, up, up down and then left. As it dodges the final shot it detects a spatial anomaly appearing next to it's projected path to dodge. Just before the computer could make a reaction to this it spots Captain.Cat standing on the other side of the Anomaly with a knife in hand just has he lunges forward at the Tyrant sitting on the Throne.
The Throne manages to move a few centimeters to the right of the portal which prevents the blade from striking the Tyrant's heart dead center, missing only by a few centimeters from the heart but it is still rips into the torso of the Tyrant which causes a fair deal of damage to them.
-Back to Captain.Cat's Perspective-
"DAMN IT!" I curse as the Throne shots away from the portal I had made to get at the Tyrant sitting on The Throne. I had just missed a fatal blow against them by a few centimeters. 'Fuck if only I had been faster.' I curse to myself as I let the portal close.
Looking over I see my doppelganger walking over looking sympathetic and pats me on the back. "Eh, well thanks anyway." I say to them. they give a nod and them holds out my rifle to me. "Times up already?" I ask looking little disappointed. My doppelganger gives a shug as if to say sorry. "Alright, Thank you for the help anyway." I say to him before taking the rifle. He nods before giving a salute to me which I return just before He vanishes into thin air. (3 CP)
Update CXLIII (143)
The Spirit of Communism spurs new peasants to join, raising the peasant numbers by 10,000! Not quite as much power as you hoped, but they're still significantly stronger.
Welcome to the game! Have you joined this game before? I feel like I recognize the name. If there was anything you had previously, let me know and I can add it to your current player listing.
Zombies are tossed like ragdolls! 22 zombies killed!
The godmodder considers this possible method of blocking his laser...
The Unsealed Summonspitter takes Major damage towards itself because you can! Specifically 45,000 points of Major damage!
The Firestar will overclock this turn, dealing a lot of damage!
You construct a nether portal, and step through...
You find yourself in the Nether! You can see a vast number of lined-up zombie pigmen, ghasts, and blazes, all preparing for deployment through various portals, marked with the double-crossed swords of sealed bosses. It looks like these enemies are going to show up if the fight goes on much longer!
Hmmm... could this place be subjugated and brought under your command?
The MAN WITH TWO GUNS AND NOTHING TO LOSE summoned!
...But, thanks to the True Throne's levitation powers, the Man is immediately flung into the air! The True Throne is levitating all allied entities, so they can't help you! Once the True Throne is dead, they'll return to the field!
The Peasants are further empowered! +10,000 peasants!
JOEbob's action doesn't require more CP.
65,000 damage to the Summonspitter! The Summonspitter smiles, even as he is pelted with lemons! Fool! The weakness was LEMONADE, not lemons! Hah!
You grab lemons! They're in your inventory now.
Hello again, Arsenical! If you need a quick catch-up on what went down, you've been trailing behind the group as essentially Satan's thrall, just waiting for a chance to use the one remaining post of debt you owe! But now that you're back, you can help, AND wait to be a thrall! Everything else that's happened should be in the plot summary in the first post. I or any other Players can answer questions.
You unleash all your psychic entities on the Throne! But the Unsealed Summonspitter blocks it! It takes 60,000 damage... and its too much!
UNSEALED SUMMONSPITTER SLAIN!
Every computer agency in all of existence mobilizes to take down the JOEnetwork. JOEbob CANNOT be allowed to spread in this way! They quickly succeed, but the godmodder is traumatized...
Switch successful...
The Final Act creation fails. You are not strong enough.
42,000 damage to the True Throne! With the Unsealed Summonspitter removed for a moment, the True Throne is vulnerable!
Eyowebot: ...Thank you.
You try to detect the approach of the DEATH Stasis Pod on the timeline...
It looks like the Peacekeepers will have it free soon enough. You'll probably get it a short amount of time after you've finished the current boss fight.
The godmodder steels himself. He has to do this. If he ever wants to succeed, he needs to read and counter the entire JOEpost.
He begins reading. He strains his eyes, as hours pass. Occasionally he takes a break to try to think of a way to counter what he's read so far, but... all of his countering ideas are just totally ridiculous... He can't think of any interesting way he could possibly counter these absurd arguments.
...
A few days later, the godmodder wakes up suddenly, having slept for a few hours. He realized he was trying so hard to read, he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Or... much at all, really. He steels himself for more reading, and begins reading the third sentence of the post...
...
After two years, a lot of failed countering ideas, and almost an entire paragraph of reading, the counter scoops himself a bowl of ice cream, trying to console himself. He is wracked with grief at what he must do. The JOEpost has defeated him. To even attempt to counter it would be a disaster.
For you see, against posts like these... the goal of these posts isn't to really play and engage with the game, or even to have a good time. The goal of these giant, many-paragraphs-long posts is to beat down the godmodder - or rather, Moniker - into giving into what JOEbob wants. To take the time to adequately counter the arguments not only is a boring and incredibly taxing affair, but one that drains the QM's patience and energy - and makes the game worse for other Players unnecessarily in the process.
The godmodder considers the evils of JOEposts. Is this really effort? Is this really creativity?
No. This is just time. Time dumped into making some mockery of a smashpost.
In a meta-sense, throughout DTG history, there has always been an issue where posts are said to be judged on creativity, but in reality, are judged on length. And JOEbob's posts are the ultimate extreme of this concept. Utterly devoid of real creativity and ingenuity, just talking in absurd circles to rack up as big of a word count as possible.
The godmodder's doctor said that the godmodder will need reading glasses permanently, now. The godmodder opted to just have cybernetic eyes installed instead. The godmodder drags himself through another pointless, depressing day of preparing his response. Is this all life is? Responding to JOEbob? Dealing with someone who, quite simply, has more energy to make absurd arguments than you do to answer them?
The godmodder logs on to the Defeat the Godmodder forum thread to check on new posts. His blood turns to ice as he sees it: JOEbob made a SECOND post, in response to Alastair Dragovich's post. A SECOND post. I guess one just WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH. The godmodder immediately breaks down in tears.
The godmodder realizes he has fallen into a trap. Now, at this point, at this time... because if not now, then when? The godmodder must request help from a higher power.
In the end, the godmodder is forced to send a missive to me, Moniker, requesting help with the issue of JOEbob.
Moniker sees the issue. He ultimately issues the ruling, separate of either the godmodder's or JOEbob's input. His decree is thus:
"The godmodder shall be made to take 1 damage with all due haste. In addition, the godmodder must not fire his laser at JOEbob, or retaliate against him for this decision in any way (normal non-retaliatory attempts to kill JOEbob are allowed). However, if the godmodder sees a post of JOEbob's that is too much to deal with, the godmodder may submit the post to me for additional processing. If I find the post to be too ridiculous, the post will be instantly vetoed and nulled."
The ruling is put into effect. 1 damage to the godmodder! The godmodder moves the 1 point of charge from his laser into his repository charge.
You do this, and it works, but to the True Throne instead! Stupid sensitive spots... 65,000 damage to the True Throne!
Auto-turret gets an attack shield!
Auto-turret upgraded with a coilgun! Now it kills 65 minecraft entities each turn!
The Peasants realize the truth. They are a FLASH DANCE RAVE MOB! And that means... they don't need music! They could get the effects of a Disco square... without having a Disco square??
They only need your word.
Because the Unsealed Summonspitter is already dead, you don't do this, and charge 3 CP instead! Since it didn't work, that means the Curse of Repetitiveness won't affect it, and you can re-use this flavor text next turn, when the True Summonspitter will be around for you to hit it with!
The godmodder steps out of his car, a BMW, sneering. After years of trying to decipher JOEbob's posts, now he has to attend some crappy family reunion. Fine, FINE, if it'll-
All the events in the family reunion happen as you describe them. After you leave, the godmodder puts his head in his hands, and cries out to me, Moniker, desperate, desperate for ANY WAY to escape this hell! A hell more hellish than the actual literal hell ever was!
But I cannot help the godmodder. He is beyond my ability to save.
--------
The godmodder wakes up. He blacked out, in a blind fury. The bloody, scattered corpses of every JOEbob family member surround him. A few people in Hazmat suits are checking everything, making sure the JOEbob infestation has been completely stopped. As the godmodder staggers to his feet, one of them thanks him for exterminating this nest of JOEbobs. He mentions that he was sure they had managed to get the number of JOEbobs in existence down to 1, but you never know when a random royal family will happen to be JOEbobs in disguise. The godmodder kills all the hazmat people, gets in his BMW, and drives away. As he does so, he is vaguely aware he's missing 2 HP, and his King of the Hill status is now officially revoked. He doesn't care. He's leaving.
(OOC: Best post I've read in some time.)
70,000 damage to the True Throne! The True Throne thought dealing with only one of you was enough...
----------
V:
The Player Killer is quite surprised to be still alive. Even if it is modestly helpful against the True Throne, surely taking out such an obvious threat to vulnerable Players might be important? Oh well!
The Player Killer attacks the True Throne, dealing 50,000 damage! They also attack Karpinsky and Redrover, injuring them, and Daskter, breaking his attack shield!
AG:
The Firestar, Karpinsky's elite space station, overclocks! It fires its giant laser, and crashes through with debris, dealing 80,000 damage to the True Throne all told! The True Throne then also takes the regular 161,000 damage! The True Throne is now in the six-digits rather than seven-digits.
PG:
The godmodder is too traumatized to do much this turn. He simply charges 1 more point for his repository charge. All the events give him an idea for the usage of the repository charge... he could make his most dangerous entity ever... but for now, trauma recovery...
The True Throne continues to charge Crush. It couldn't react to the rapidly deteriorating situation around it even if it tried.
The Minecraft Monsters all burn to ash! The Unsealed Summonspitter is dead, and with it their lives are forfeit!
N:
After a measly single turn, the Anti-Minecraft turret's purpose is entirely fulfilled. It prepares to leave the field, wondering if there is anything else it could conceivably accomplish...
The Peasant Rebellion, with the Summonspitter out of the way for only a moment, rushes the True Throne, taking advantage of their opening! The True Throne blasts them back - but not before taking several devastating hits! 690,000 damage to the True Throne!
In this moment, all your buffs to the Peasant Rebellion have paid off! The True Throne will die next turn thanks to your entity railgunning! The Peasants form up, receiving an attack shield from the Church, unwilling to celebrate too early! Hold on just a bit longer, Players!
---------
The Unsealed Summonspitter lies defeated. But once again, its corpse wiggles. And from the large blob emerges an even smaller blob - now with a sleek steel frame, and a direct connection to Ralyx's Eternity Stasis Machine.
Emblazoned on the steel frame is the triple-crossed swords icon, now with all three glowing. This is...
The True Summonspitter.
To begin, it summons... is that... C'thun! One of the first ever entities summoned, by Eevee Shadow Bacon if memory serves! Oh no...
The True Summonspitter is going to summon extremely buffed versions of your past allies! Now, in addition the physical pain the summons will inflict on you and your entities, you'll have to deal with the EMOTIONAL pain killing your old allies will give you!
Do note that this time, everything the True Summonspitter summons will stick around even when the True Summonspitter dies.
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Loading: 45%
Estimated time remaining: 9 hours 9 minutes 9 seconds
THE ADMINISTRATIVE PLANE:
ITINERARY:
-Defeat The Godmodder!
-Defeat the Summonspitter! It's summoning incredibly powerful dead allies!
-Defeat the Throne! Its ensuring Players are always vulnerable! Protect the Peasant Rebellion!
Minor Tasks:
Kill the Player Killer! It's trying to kill you! Or help it, since it also wants to kill the True Throne!
Field effects: Auto-Levitation: Immediately levitates all combat-capable AG/N entities!
Levitated allies:
[AG]Fenix: 1,470,000/1,500,000 HP, 50,000 x 6A (Player Knife - deals triple damage in duels)(protected from 1 attack)
[AG - Winkins]Disco-Chan: 80,000/80,000 HP, 5,000A, Special: Disco Squares: 2/3 (repels darkness!)(protected from 2 attacks)
[AG - FlamingFlapjacks]Gundam Demolisher: 60,000/60,000 HP, 7,500 x 2A (has Shitty Jetpack, quadruples rate at which entity comes down from levitation! Damages the Throne when returning!)
[AG - Paradoxdragonpaci]The Restorer: 60,000 HP, +5,000 x 3A (can repair items)(Reverse levitation)
[AG - DragonofHope]Gwyn: 28,000/28,000 HP, 35,000A (80% dodge rate)(fire-based attack)(+1,000 HP/turn)
[AG - Daskter]You can count on Osttruppen, no really you can!: 100,000/100,000 HP, 25,000A (protected from 1 attack)
[AG - Cephalos Jr.]Red Army Swordsman: 100% intact! Duel!A (-20% intactness per turn in a duel)
[AG - barbedwireqtip]Man with Two Guns and Nothing to Lose: 100,000/100,000 HP, 10,000 x 2A (attack split)
[AG]Eyowebot, -----/----- HP, 30,000 x 5A, Special: Revelation: 2/4
[N - CaptainNZZZ]Mark III Tactical Flashbang: 31,000/31,000 HP, 5,000 x 2A (stuns hit enemies for 1 turn!)(50% dodge rate)(gravity harness)(1 attack redirector)
[AG - Winkins]Disco-Chan: 80,000/80,000 HP, 5,000A, Special: Disco Squares: 2/3 (repels darkness!)(protected from 2 attacks)
[AG - FlamingFlapjacks]Gundam Demolisher: 60,000/60,000 HP, 7,500 x 2A (has Shitty Jetpack, quadruples rate at which entity comes down from levitation! Damages the Throne when returning!)
[AG - Paradoxdragonpaci]The Restorer: 60,000 HP, +5,000 x 3A (can repair items)(Reverse levitation)
[AG - DragonofHope]Gwyn: 28,000/28,000 HP, 35,000A (80% dodge rate)(fire-based attack)(+1,000 HP/turn)
[AG - Daskter]You can count on Osttruppen, no really you can!: 100,000/100,000 HP, 25,000A (protected from 1 attack)
[AG - Cephalos Jr.]Red Army Swordsman: 100% intact! Duel!A (-20% intactness per turn in a duel)
[AG - barbedwireqtip]Man with Two Guns and Nothing to Lose: 100,000/100,000 HP, 10,000 x 2A (attack split)
[AG]Eyowebot, -----/----- HP, 30,000 x 5A, Special: Revelation: 2/4
[N - CaptainNZZZ]Mark III Tactical Flashbang: 31,000/31,000 HP, 5,000 x 2A (stuns hit enemies for 1 turn!)(50% dodge rate)(gravity harness)(1 attack redirector)
!PLAYERS CURRENTLY VULNERABLE!
[V]Player Killer: 261,000/350,000 HP, Slice! x 4A (extra damage against Players!)(Will target True Throne, Peasant Pummeler)
[N]The Church: 250,000/250,000, Shields 1 peasant every turn! (powers up Peasant Revolts!)(protected from 1 attack)
[ANTI-THRONE]Peasant Rebellion: 1 x 225,000 HP, 1 x 225,000A (x2 damage against Thrones)(Can use disco square power)(protected from 1 attacks)
Fallen Champion: 50,000 HP, 120,000A (x2 damage against Thrones)(Can use disco square power)(protected from 1 attack)
[ANTI-MINECRAFT]Auto-turret: 30,000/30,000 HP (kills 65 Minecraft enemies each turn!)(protected from 1 attack)(leaving next turn unless additional purpose is given)
[PG]C'thun: 5,000,000 HP, 200,000A (deathly touch)(paranoic stare)(takes x10 damage from all sources)
[PG]True Throne: 134,000/3,000,000 HP, inflicts auto-levitation while alive, Special: Crush: 3/5 (Boss)(being guarded by Unsealed Summonspitter!)(-161,000 HP/turn)
[PG]True Summonspitter: 1,500,000/1,500,000 HP, Copy-summon!A (Boss)(guarding True Throne!)
[PG]The Godmodder: 68/310 HP (Repository Charge: 4/10)
[N]Administrative Terminal Loading Screen: 45% loaded!
Player list:
Alastair Dragovich - CP: 1
Algot - CP: 7 (has nothing, essence of life)
Arsenical - CP: 0(1 post in debt!)
barbedwireqtip - CP: 1
Bill Nye - CP: 8
Captain.cat - CP: 0 (protected from 1 attack)
[N]CaptainNZZZ - CP: 2 (protected from 1 attack)
Cephalos Jr. - CP: 1 (has Cybil's blood sample, anti-infantry railgun)
Crusher48 - CP: 0
Daskter - CP: 5
Dragon of Hope?!? - CP: 0
Eevee Shadow Bacon - CP: 9
Ender_Smirk - CP: 0 (has Shadow Agitator)(Slightly Injured)
[N+1]EternalStruggle - CP: 0
[N]Evonix - CP: 0
FlamingFlapjacks - CP: 0
General_Urist - CP: 12
GoldHero101 - CP: 0 (has Leoano, 24 power left)
[N+2]Joebobobob - CP: 1 (has Summonspitter energy, moral hazard)
Karpinsky - CP: 0 (Injured)
Krill13 - CP: 10
Kyleruler - CP: 0
MooGoestheCow - CP: 0
Paradoxdragonpaci - CP: 0 (wearing Good Armour)
Pionoplayer - CP: 13
Ranger_Strider_ - CP: 9
RedRover1760 - CP: 0 (Injured)
Spicy_Serious - CP: 3
That-Random-Guy - CP: 12 (has Peace Jar, open to deal a lot of damage to one enemy)(protected from 1 attack)
The_Quiet_Watcher - CP: 5 (has paradise grenade(teleports enemies to paradise), frag grenade(deals significant damage, usable as free action), lemons)
The_Nonexistent_Tazz - CP: 3 (protected from 1 attack)
The_Two_Eternities - CP: 0 (protected from 1 attack)
[N]The Ego - CP: 3
Tithed Verse - CP: 0
Trifling Epithet - CP: 0
[N+2]Winkins - CP: 0
Player Inventory:
Bonfire(3 uses left)(Spend your entire turn resting here to heal)
Base Player Power: 20,000
Algot - CP: 7 (has nothing, essence of life)
Arsenical - CP: 0(1 post in debt!)
barbedwireqtip - CP: 1
Bill Nye - CP: 8
Captain.cat - CP: 0 (protected from 1 attack)
[N]CaptainNZZZ - CP: 2 (protected from 1 attack)
Cephalos Jr. - CP: 1 (has Cybil's blood sample, anti-infantry railgun)
Crusher48 - CP: 0
Daskter - CP: 5
Dragon of Hope?!? - CP: 0
Eevee Shadow Bacon - CP: 9
Ender_Smirk - CP: 0 (has Shadow Agitator)(Slightly Injured)
[N+1]EternalStruggle - CP: 0
[N]Evonix - CP: 0
FlamingFlapjacks - CP: 0
General_Urist - CP: 12
GoldHero101 - CP: 0 (has Leoano, 24 power left)
[N+2]Joebobobob - CP: 1 (has Summonspitter energy, moral hazard)
Karpinsky - CP: 0 (Injured)
Krill13 - CP: 10
Kyleruler - CP: 0
MooGoestheCow - CP: 0
Paradoxdragonpaci - CP: 0 (wearing Good Armour)
Pionoplayer - CP: 13
Ranger_Strider_ - CP: 9
RedRover1760 - CP: 0 (Injured)
Spicy_Serious - CP: 3
That-Random-Guy - CP: 12 (has Peace Jar, open to deal a lot of damage to one enemy)(protected from 1 attack)
The_Quiet_Watcher - CP: 5 (has paradise grenade(teleports enemies to paradise), frag grenade(deals significant damage, usable as free action), lemons)
The_Nonexistent_Tazz - CP: 3 (protected from 1 attack)
The_Two_Eternities - CP: 0 (protected from 1 attack)
[N]The Ego - CP: 3
Tithed Verse - CP: 0
Trifling Epithet - CP: 0
[N+2]Winkins - CP: 0
Player Inventory:
Bonfire(3 uses left)(Spend your entire turn resting here to heal)
Base Player Power: 20,000
Ranger_Strider_
The one who does lots of Striding
FOCUS!
I attempt to seal the old god C'thun using the powers of the Elder Signs. I call upon the new gods to assist me.
I attempt to seal the old god C'thun using the powers of the Elder Signs. I call upon the new gods to assist me.
[1] I look at my sleeping form upon the floor,my physical body. Drawing out pink mist from the spatial drive's dreamworld remnants which may or may not not-exist, I form it into an aura, a shield, around the Self. except, not a shield. the mist coalesces into a gem and attaches itself to the necklace of spatial storage. When I'm attacked, a rapidly moving spatial rift will appear and make me appear inside the drive, and then another rift will move the drive into the drive, making it temporarilly impossible to access the drive from the outside.
[1] HAH! The Godmodder was wrong. There are TWO JOEbobs still in existence! My physical body, and the dreamself I've been using for quite some time! I quickly duplicate my minds most important parts- the discourse, argument, technicality detection, and attack-lengthening portions, of course- and leave them behind in the Dreamself before waking up. Then, Me and my dreamself menacingly walk towards the Godmodder and then... oh god, and then... We start TALKING.
"Now, your plan prior to this point could be considered a shade past competent, by comparison to the truthfully pitiful quality of the average plan which has to contend with JOEbobs, but it failed to properly account for the obvious fact that I am JOEbob, and I have a plan. I always have a plan. In this case, the plan involves pointing out the additional arguments within my post which were not, in fact, addressed. First of all, one must take into account the beauty of the tutorial// introduction. Now, given the Godmodder gave up at roughly the one paragraph in (technically, the post starts with several lines, so this is impossible, which is another relevant argument which my associate, dream JOEbob, is currently and simultaneously expounding on at great length.), he did not reach it, but the tutorial//introduction is a masterpiece of self-parody. Since the damage was due purely to length, and not to any sections of actual quality, It behooves me to-
"Post Three, Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration four, Codename, cJOEd."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
">For ease of reading, I've decided to implement a color-coded header system. The color of the head-
[The Remainder of the scene has been redacted for comedic value and/or gruesomeness, and/or the limitations imposed by forum guidelines and/or to save time and/or because i don't actually have anything new to add to the tutorial and/or for no reason in particular].
[1] Action three, While the Godmodder is distracted by me and my clone talking at him- or by trying to locate and kill me or my clone after activating the first-actions defense- I reach out with player power and make a mind-control helmet appear in front of the true summonspitter, made of fiberglass. This helmet will utilize the placebo effect and a heavy application of the thaumaturgy and prestidigitation cantrips to convince entities they're mind controlled- illusions making them think they were attacking a [PG] by accident if they intend to attack an [AG] and so on- and bring them to the AG side.
the placebo effect is relevant because there's no actual mind-control components. However, I do have an unrelated spell to affect whoever wears the helmet. or rather, several instances of the same spell. The spell is called 'Suggestion' and this use of it will lead to thousands of intrusive thoughts saying the entity should join the [AG] side. So uh.................. something.
[1] HAH! The Godmodder was wrong. There are TWO JOEbobs still in existence! My physical body, and the dreamself I've been using for quite some time! I quickly duplicate my minds most important parts- the discourse, argument, technicality detection, and attack-lengthening portions, of course- and leave them behind in the Dreamself before waking up. Then, Me and my dreamself menacingly walk towards the Godmodder and then... oh god, and then... We start TALKING.
"Now, your plan prior to this point could be considered a shade past competent, by comparison to the truthfully pitiful quality of the average plan which has to contend with JOEbobs, but it failed to properly account for the obvious fact that I am JOEbob, and I have a plan. I always have a plan. In this case, the plan involves pointing out the additional arguments within my post which were not, in fact, addressed. First of all, one must take into account the beauty of the tutorial// introduction. Now, given the Godmodder gave up at roughly the one paragraph in (technically, the post starts with several lines, so this is impossible, which is another relevant argument which my associate, dream JOEbob, is currently and simultaneously expounding on at great length.), he did not reach it, but the tutorial//introduction is a masterpiece of self-parody. Since the damage was due purely to length, and not to any sections of actual quality, It behooves me to-
"Post Three, Phase Ten, Section Fifteen, Subsection Five, Iteration four, Codename, cJOEd."
"Tutorial // Introduction"
">For ease of reading, I've decided to implement a color-coded header system. The color of the head-
[The Remainder of the scene has been redacted for comedic value and/or gruesomeness, and/or the limitations imposed by forum guidelines and/or to save time and/or because i don't actually have anything new to add to the tutorial and/or for no reason in particular].
[1] Action three, While the Godmodder is distracted by me and my clone talking at him- or by trying to locate and kill me or my clone after activating the first-actions defense- I reach out with player power and make a mind-control helmet appear in front of the true summonspitter, made of fiberglass. This helmet will utilize the placebo effect and a heavy application of the thaumaturgy and prestidigitation cantrips to convince entities they're mind controlled- illusions making them think they were attacking a [PG] by accident if they intend to attack an [AG] and so on- and bring them to the AG side.
the placebo effect is relevant because there's no actual mind-control components. However, I do have an unrelated spell to affect whoever wears the helmet. or rather, several instances of the same spell. The spell is called 'Suggestion' and this use of it will lead to thousands of intrusive thoughts saying the entity should join the [AG] side. So uh.................. something.
Eevee shadow bacon
Your Choices Don't Matter
[9/24] chaaaaa....
I poke the True Summonspitter in the eye with a particularly sharp stick.
I then poke a particularly sharp stick in the eye with the True Summonspitter.
I then poke a particularly sharp eye in the True Summonspitter with a stick.
I then poke a particularly sharp stick in the eye with the True Summonspitter.
I then poke a particularly sharp eye in the True Summonspitter with a stick.
+3 CP
She/Her
1x action: I apply a Healing Rune to myself, healing my injuries
2x action: I inject a player-powered virus into the True Summonspitter. This virus does something simple, elegant, and deadly:
Whenever the True Summonspitter summons an entity, it will relive the entire history of that entity, from the moment it was summoned to the moment it was entered into the Stasis Machine. And the Summonspitter will feel every last ounce of pain that the summoned entity felt.
2x action: I inject a player-powered virus into the True Summonspitter. This virus does something simple, elegant, and deadly:
Whenever the True Summonspitter summons an entity, it will relive the entire history of that entity, from the moment it was summoned to the moment it was entered into the Stasis Machine. And the Summonspitter will feel every last ounce of pain that the summoned entity felt.
I summon a useless box which only takes action to turn itself on and off.
I leave the field through Ender_Smirk's portal.
FOCUS
ES jumps in front of C'thun and draws his sword, slashing it down through the empty air before him. Reality contorts and twists, space shearing and twisting, until at last an Aetheric Tunnel is present. This corridor of altered volume ensures that C'thun's attack will hit the True Summonspitter instead of its intended target. How? Well, it's quite simple. As said, space has been twisted, meaning that a fist or stare or sound wave or whatnot flying through that area will end up going out at the end of the Tunnel instead of what one's eyes might perceive as forward, and naturally the end of the Tunnel is right in the face of the Summonspitter.
ES jumps in front of C'thun and draws his sword, slashing it down through the empty air before him. Reality contorts and twists, space shearing and twisting, until at last an Aetheric Tunnel is present. This corridor of altered volume ensures that C'thun's attack will hit the True Summonspitter instead of its intended target. How? Well, it's quite simple. As said, space has been twisted, meaning that a fist or stare or sound wave or whatnot flying through that area will end up going out at the end of the Tunnel instead of what one's eyes might perceive as forward, and naturally the end of the Tunnel is right in the face of the Summonspitter.
Before he was a player, Alistair had asthma, fun fact. This meant that there were certain vices he couldn't partake in because they would ruin his health and in part because he had a slight problem with indulgence before his city was nuked. On such vice was smoking. he never got it, and because of his lungs, he really couldn't afford to try it.
But now that he was a Player? And after seeing the Godmodder melt down so spectacularly? He felt it was only appropriate to smoke a huge, fat cigar.
Then he promptly spat it out and stomped on because that shit was NASTY. Yuck! Stupid reality getting in the way of looking cool.
"YOU WERE NEVER COOL!"
Alistair snapped back. "SHUT UP GODMODDER!"
With that out of the way, Alistair stood up. There was one more thing to do before he started his Actions proper. As he walked to towards the Peasant Rebellion, he passed Joebob. Without even looking up, they shared a high five before continuing with their shenanigans.
Alistair cracked his neck. With his first action, he summoned a Boom Box that played music throughout the entire administrative plane. Wioth a flick of a switch, he turned it on and set it to the disco version of the song "Everything is Awesome". With inexplicable shade in his face, he turned towards Disco-chan, lowered them just enough to reveal his eyes, then winked and pointed a finger gun at the boogie master.
"This one's for you," He then turned to the crowd of peasants. "And this one is for you too! After all, you've been denied fun and joy for so long by the Throne! Time to show him what it will be like with that bloated tick gone!"
The peasants roared, their Disco Square Power surging through their veins and onto the entire plane! the True Summonspitter wasn't worried. It could block this attack, no problem-!
And then the crowd of Peasant began to dance OVER it. The True Summonspitter was promptly trod upon by the well coordinated dance moves and footwork of the entire army! it tried to get in the way of all of them, but there were too many! As it drowned in the veritable tidal wave of dancing revolutionaries, the True Summonspitter lamented its lot in life.
The Tyrant of the True Throne, however, was not worried. He was levitating far above those pathetic peasant and peons. No, those railguns were the bigger worry, and it hoped that the SummonSpitter could bodyblock them all.
Except the Peasants had not only danced on top of its bodyguard, but also tied it all up! Now it couldn't move! The True Throne's tyrant began to sweat. Oh no. The railguns would-!
The True Throne's Tyrant began writing his last will and testament, leaving everything to his beloved Throne, which had given him so much over the years. Like power. And more power!
Meanwhile, the Player Killer grumbled, not entirely sure if he liked this new Turn Based mechanics or not. On the one hand, the damage calcs were much higher than before. On the other, Players like Dakster could get away with arbitrarily high numbers of death pokes with little chance of dodging or retaliation.
Then he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He raised his eyebrow at the presence of that Player, Alistair, who kept sending him names of new players to gank. And there he was, just acting like there was nothing wrong, despite getting attacked earlier. He was also currently using the Boogie tech tree, even though he was clearly specced for roleplaying! Man, this guy was weird.
Alistair, still disco dancing, jerked out his thumb towards the True Summonspitter. In addition to being tied down, it also had a new, if slightly bloodstained nametag.
'Hello, my name is:JOEbobEverQuest Player'
the Player Killer rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure. Just after this turn resolved and-
The Player Killer blinked as Alistair had grabbed his hand. Instantly he could feel dance buffs flood into him! And... he could move.
Alistair jerked his head again, a smile on his face. "C'mon! Let's gank that noob together!"
The Player Killer wasn't sure. He lived for the rage and pain of others! He wasn't here to do things like 'teamwork' or 'play nice'.
But... if this gave him an extra attack at the new player, he supposed he could take advantage of the generosity.
So together, they did ridiculous dance moves straight out of the 70s and 80s. They did the point and jabbed the True Summonspitter. They did arm rolls and launched shurikens at the True Summonspitter with rapid effectiveness. They looked silly, and danced painful combat circles around the True Summonspitter!
And somewhere along the way, the Player Killer realized something. It's okay to revel in pain and suffering in a game alone. But to do so with friends was even more awesome.
He wondered if there was a guild for other Player Killers out there. Maybe after he was finished with this turn, he would leave to go find out.
And somewhere in the midst of all this?
The peasants, the Player Killer, and Alistair Dragovich trampled the Godmodder's beloved BMW. He stared at the pile of junk in horror, since he had been planning on driving to a bar he just opened in the Administrative plan just to drink away the JOEbobian nightmares he had been having. He saw a note on the remains.
'How does it feel to lose something you care about?
-Alistair Dragovich'
The Godmodder banged his head against the smoldering wreckage to relieve the stress. He couldn't wait to start Reality 2. He really couldn't.
EDIT: Due to the helpful eyes of pionoplayer I am adding a tldr to the end of this post to avoid confusion.
tldr: Alistair starts a Peasant flash mob/rave, teaches the Player Killer the meaning of freindship, and together the group wrecks 1 True Summonspitter and 1 Godmodder owned BMW. The actions, specifically...
Action 1: Start the rave and dance all over the True SummonSpitter.
Action 2: Label the True SummonSpitter as an EverQuest Player and tag team with the Player Killer to stomp True Summonspitter's face in with Disco themed attacks.
Action 3: Wreck the Godmodder's BMW in the process of doing actions 1 and 2 and leave a salty ass note taped to it.
Free Action: Make it clear to the True Throne that he gonna die by symbolically tying down the True Summonspitter by using actual rope.
But now that he was a Player? And after seeing the Godmodder melt down so spectacularly? He felt it was only appropriate to smoke a huge, fat cigar.
Then he promptly spat it out and stomped on because that shit was NASTY. Yuck! Stupid reality getting in the way of looking cool.
"YOU WERE NEVER COOL!"
Alistair snapped back. "SHUT UP GODMODDER!"
With that out of the way, Alistair stood up. There was one more thing to do before he started his Actions proper. As he walked to towards the Peasant Rebellion, he passed Joebob. Without even looking up, they shared a high five before continuing with their shenanigans.
Alistair cracked his neck. With his first action, he summoned a Boom Box that played music throughout the entire administrative plane. Wioth a flick of a switch, he turned it on and set it to the disco version of the song "Everything is Awesome". With inexplicable shade in his face, he turned towards Disco-chan, lowered them just enough to reveal his eyes, then winked and pointed a finger gun at the boogie master.
"This one's for you," He then turned to the crowd of peasants. "And this one is for you too! After all, you've been denied fun and joy for so long by the Throne! Time to show him what it will be like with that bloated tick gone!"
The peasants roared, their Disco Square Power surging through their veins and onto the entire plane! the True Summonspitter wasn't worried. It could block this attack, no problem-!
And then the crowd of Peasant began to dance OVER it. The True Summonspitter was promptly trod upon by the well coordinated dance moves and footwork of the entire army! it tried to get in the way of all of them, but there were too many! As it drowned in the veritable tidal wave of dancing revolutionaries, the True Summonspitter lamented its lot in life.
The Tyrant of the True Throne, however, was not worried. He was levitating far above those pathetic peasant and peons. No, those railguns were the bigger worry, and it hoped that the SummonSpitter could bodyblock them all.
Except the Peasants had not only danced on top of its bodyguard, but also tied it all up! Now it couldn't move! The True Throne's tyrant began to sweat. Oh no. The railguns would-!
The True Throne's Tyrant began writing his last will and testament, leaving everything to his beloved Throne, which had given him so much over the years. Like power. And more power!
Meanwhile, the Player Killer grumbled, not entirely sure if he liked this new Turn Based mechanics or not. On the one hand, the damage calcs were much higher than before. On the other, Players like Dakster could get away with arbitrarily high numbers of death pokes with little chance of dodging or retaliation.
Then he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He raised his eyebrow at the presence of that Player, Alistair, who kept sending him names of new players to gank. And there he was, just acting like there was nothing wrong, despite getting attacked earlier. He was also currently using the Boogie tech tree, even though he was clearly specced for roleplaying! Man, this guy was weird.
Alistair, still disco dancing, jerked out his thumb towards the True Summonspitter. In addition to being tied down, it also had a new, if slightly bloodstained nametag.
'Hello, my name is:
the Player Killer rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure. Just after this turn resolved and-
The Player Killer blinked as Alistair had grabbed his hand. Instantly he could feel dance buffs flood into him! And... he could move.
Alistair jerked his head again, a smile on his face. "C'mon! Let's gank that noob together!"
The Player Killer wasn't sure. He lived for the rage and pain of others! He wasn't here to do things like 'teamwork' or 'play nice'.
But... if this gave him an extra attack at the new player, he supposed he could take advantage of the generosity.
So together, they did ridiculous dance moves straight out of the 70s and 80s. They did the point and jabbed the True Summonspitter. They did arm rolls and launched shurikens at the True Summonspitter with rapid effectiveness. They looked silly, and danced painful combat circles around the True Summonspitter!
And somewhere along the way, the Player Killer realized something. It's okay to revel in pain and suffering in a game alone. But to do so with friends was even more awesome.
He wondered if there was a guild for other Player Killers out there. Maybe after he was finished with this turn, he would leave to go find out.
And somewhere in the midst of all this?
The peasants, the Player Killer, and Alistair Dragovich trampled the Godmodder's beloved BMW. He stared at the pile of junk in horror, since he had been planning on driving to a bar he just opened in the Administrative plan just to drink away the JOEbobian nightmares he had been having. He saw a note on the remains.
'How does it feel to lose something you care about?
-Alistair Dragovich'
The Godmodder banged his head against the smoldering wreckage to relieve the stress. He couldn't wait to start Reality 2. He really couldn't.
EDIT: Due to the helpful eyes of pionoplayer I am adding a tldr to the end of this post to avoid confusion.
tldr: Alistair starts a Peasant flash mob/rave, teaches the Player Killer the meaning of freindship, and together the group wrecks 1 True Summonspitter and 1 Godmodder owned BMW. The actions, specifically...
Action 1: Start the rave and dance all over the True SummonSpitter.
Action 2: Label the True SummonSpitter as an EverQuest Player and tag team with the Player Killer to stomp True Summonspitter's face in with Disco themed attacks.
Action 3: Wreck the Godmodder's BMW in the process of doing actions 1 and 2 and leave a salty ass note taped to it.
Free Action: Make it clear to the True Throne that he gonna die by symbolically tying down the True Summonspitter by using actual rope.
Last edited:
GoldHero101
Warrior of Light and Darkness
He/Him
It continues. Oh yeah... new mechanic.
EXPEND CHARGES: I can expend charges within Leoano to do stuff. It's like CP, but within Leoano, so it's cooler and stronger. It also doesn't remove any milestones! HURRAY!
6 ACTION FOCUS - FINISH HIM: Grabbing Leoano, I fly right into the throne with it, stabbing it right through the... chest? I guess? Your dead either way.
Leoano (Reawakened): 24-3 Charges
EXPEND CHARGES: I can expend charges within Leoano to do stuff. It's like CP, but within Leoano, so it's cooler and stronger. It also doesn't remove any milestones! HURRAY!
6 ACTION FOCUS - FINISH HIM: Grabbing Leoano, I fly right into the throne with it, stabbing it right through the... chest? I guess? Your dead either way.
Leoano (Reawakened): 24-3 Charges
Redrover1760
Yoink!
Focus X2: Injured, I focus on a more important objective.
I give Disco-Chan 2 attack shields.
Action 3: Then I give myself an attack shield.
I give Disco-Chan 2 attack shields.
Action 3: Then I give myself an attack shield.
Seems injured Players are starting to add up, I should probably help rectify that.
Placing my gloved left hand upon Ender_Smirk's shoulder green sparks of energy leap from my hand to Ender_Smirk's form, causing their wounds to close and their bruises to fade. (x1)
"Glorious Auto-turret I see you're preparing to follow the tradition of many entities and fade into irrelevance. Let me tell you, such a decision should not be taken lightly." An eerie echo appears in my voice as I continue. "You see while your primary task is complete that task was only the first step towards your true target. You killed the summoned Minecraft entities but what summoned those entities? The Summonspitter. And what is the Summonspitter? A boss. You understand what I'm getting at, the next step from taking out the foot soldiers is taking out the commanders. At the very least becoming an [ANTI-BOSS] entity will be worthwhile in terms of getting to fire away without a care in the world. (x1)
I...hmmm...well...surround myself with dozens of arcs of electricity to form a barrier against attacks. When in doubt, intensifyforward firepower defenses. (x1)
Placing my gloved left hand upon Ender_Smirk's shoulder green sparks of energy leap from my hand to Ender_Smirk's form, causing their wounds to close and their bruises to fade. (x1)
A coffee mug in one hand I walk up to my newest entity and wrap my free arm around it. I flash a smile towards its nearest cluster of cameras and sensors before stepping back.
"Glorious Auto-turret I see you're preparing to follow the tradition of many entities and fade into irrelevance. Let me tell you, such a decision should not be taken lightly." An eerie echo appears in my voice as I continue. "You see while your primary task is complete that task was only the first step towards your true target. You killed the summoned Minecraft entities but what summoned those entities? The Summonspitter. And what is the Summonspitter? A boss. You understand what I'm getting at, the next step from taking out the foot soldiers is taking out the commanders. At the very least becoming an [ANTI-BOSS] entity will be worthwhile in terms of getting to fire away without a care in the world. (x1)
I...hmmm...well...surround myself with dozens of arcs of electricity to form a barrier against attacks. When in doubt, intensify
[A] WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS
[x3] Leah may do something more special given time to edit, but no longer shall she wait. She takes lemons, water, and sugar, and mixes them together in acceptable and rational qualities, IE such a quality as to hopefully create Lemonade. She then throws it out as she doesn't know any of that, buys a few gallons of Lemonade from a regular convenience store, attaches C4 to it, and chucks it at the True Summonspitter.
[FREE] She then turns to the Peasents. Omniglot speaks.
"Please, by all means, after your demonstration of your dance moves, we would thank you kindly for your service to us, and thus ask that you preserve yourselves and rebuild your kingdom in the knowledge that the King will soon be dead. We can't do anything else for you-the rest of your future is in your hands," Omniglot says. "We can take it from the destruction of the Throne, and with it, the King."
In other words, Leah is asking the Peasents to scram the minute the Throne's dead and they've shown us their stuff. Its probably for the best, as most of them are just innocents like her tossed into things. But hey, who knows? Maybe they'll come back someday. (Hopefully not.)
[FREE] She then turns to the Peasents. Omniglot speaks.
"Please, by all means, after your demonstration of your dance moves, we would thank you kindly for your service to us, and thus ask that you preserve yourselves and rebuild your kingdom in the knowledge that the King will soon be dead. We can't do anything else for you-the rest of your future is in your hands," Omniglot says. "We can take it from the destruction of the Throne, and with it, the King."
In other words, Leah is asking the Peasents to scram the minute the Throne's dead and they've shown us their stuff. Its probably for the best, as most of them are just innocents like her tossed into things. But hey, who knows? Maybe they'll come back someday. (Hopefully not.)
The quiet watcher
Verified Old One
[-2 CP] The quiet watcher opens multiple dimensional doors to remove the True Summonspitter's Primary heart from its chest intact, as it is the last piece that he needs for his masterpiece.
He checks the list of things needed for the last Bomb after he removed it, charges up one more CP.
He checks the list of things needed for the last Bomb after he removed it, charges up one more CP.
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