Ranger_Strider_
The one who does lots of Striding
The first horse begins rapidly advancing. Why you ask? Narrative power. I channel the theme of the underdog overcoming all the odds against him, and grant the first horse this power!
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Defeat The Godmodder
- Thread starter Moniker
- Start date
[aleph+bet+gimel] Leah blinks. She is elsewhere. Not where she was. But, at the same time, it was still the same place.
With her was Omniglot-it was impossible for it to be otherwise. Behind her was a door with a sign, and in her hands... In her hands...
"Know this: This is this power of the Architechts, of which you know much of. This is the power of casualty and fate. This is the power of the Wishing Star. This is the power to grant any wish, on these caveats: It cannot reach into the present, only the past. It cannot be used to kill or harm another, but may bring life. It will not carry side-effects that you will not be aware of prior to making the wish, and no wish will be granted against your consent. That is the power of this Wishing Star."
Leah's eyes widen. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. She was just fighting the Godmodder seconds ago, and the player powers at her disposal are almost always some kind of instinct against traps and tricks. This time, this time it is real. Really, really real.
"But. This star is empty and devoid of power. This being the work of the Architects, we have this knowledge: it is due to the one known as the 'Godmodder' sapping it from this star."
... Leah rolled her eyes. Of course.
"The Godmodder has made an arrangement. Wound thyself further to the stage two below your own, and the star's power shall be reignited, though you may preview wishes freely. Leave through the door and the star shall be revoked. This voice is naught but the meager artificial intelligence betsowed upon this star by the Architechts, and thus, this voice is truthful."
Leah sighed. Of course, it was all a trap.
"Omniglot. Can you..." Leah's voice trails off. Her mind is still affixed on the possibilities.
"The Star is legitimate, as is the bargain."
... Leah turns back to the Star. She could be rich-actually rich. She could have her family and her friends alive and well. Obvious temptations-it almost didn't need to be said. And yet, obviously, threatening her chances of defeating the Godmodder that'd literally ruin reality would be unacceptable.
...And yet.
"..."
Leah had to think about this. No. There was simply no way, no way that this was the case. This wasn't just too good to be true, it was too good to exist. She had to turn this down, but... There's the moral obligation to ressurect those lost in her long journey. Possibly even the people who she didn't like, necessarily. Undo all the pointless suffering-though she couldn't edit Godmodders out of history, she could at least ease the pain of god-knows-how-many. All she'd need to do is jeopardize her life, which, while certainly a very lopsided deal, would mean jeopardizing the murder of the Godmodder. which meant the end of existence itself. The logical choice, then, was not to make a wish.
And yet. This was his work. Did he want this? Did he not want this?
"Omniglot, how long would it take us to return to the fight?"
"It would, by the Arbiter's terms, take a round, or a tenth of the time before John Smith would retain full power."
"... Do you think he can hear us?"
"Yes. For certain."
Leah stands up straight, Wishing Star still in her palm.
"... John Smith. Let's be clear, you were never Verraad, and 'The Godmodder' is not who you are. I'm not exactly a fan of you. But I can get it," Leah says, into the empty void-the empty void that would await all that is if she failed. "A life full of nothing but the grinding of the gears, endless paperwork and busywork with nothing of importance. Your co-workers treated you as a potted plant. I could say that you arguably could have done better for yourself, but I wasn't there. I'll also have to say I'm sorry about your sister, though I know you don't care about her and probably never did. I'm just sorry she had to be your sister. But, again, I can get it. Its... Its honestly my fear as well, that one at the back of your head that you dismiss because, like, I'unno, 'I'm a teenager the world is my oyster!' But the idea that you just get sucked into this horrible thing you dislike and can't stop doing it nor find anything better is... Yeah, that's dystopia for me."
"... I was sucked into this whole affair 'cause, like, everything basically exploded around me and my friends. You had the choice to go into there and do what you wished to do, the one escape you could think of, to escape that monotony. I can't really say I wouldn't have picked the same as you in that situation, and I guess likewise thrust into mine you'd be as thrilled as me-not, not one bit. A change in perspective is a hell of a thing, but I've been thinking about it ever since your side of this story finally came out in the open. Kinda shocking, but not surprising... You weren't always 'The Godmodder' after all."
Leah's grip tightens around the star.
"In a sense, I guess what you've honestly done is just chuck me into some kind of epiphanic prison or something stupid, and uh, I can't leave unless I do something really crazy and learn something about myself, for real. But I think I get it, with you. You really don't get who I am or what i went through in kind. I guess I haven't said it in full, but the idea of being on the run, certain death behind you, with only a weird dream man's generosity to guide you to safety, if its even smart to trust 'em? I think the idea of excitement that wasn't really mortal terror ever struck you. I guess the idea of losing whatever you had left was never scary to you. I guess, uh, to be cliche, that you never had anything like a friend, like Margaret or Natalie or even that weird creepy Grimm guy. And, honestly? That doesn't actually excuse you at all."
Leah's grip tightens.
"The thing I fear the most of anything else in the world-that's what you want to hear, right? Well, I'm living it. Right now. Every second! NOt just that all I've done is going to literally be for nothing, as its' always been, but that I'm being thrown into these impossible situations, and people expect a teenage girl who did not volunteer to be thrown into life or death situations, to just like, suck it up and go all Atlas with the entire desires and hopes of reality with powers beyond her own fathoming while this invincible jackass lays siege to it, and it's completely totally unfair! It's absolutely insane! And yet here I am doing it anyways. I've blown up holes in streets when I heard cans tumbling and that was without player power! I'm a danger to everyone I know, and that's a short list now! Everyone I ever knew is dead and it isn't even your fault! I've looked at my own gravestone and its so old I couldn't even tell it was my name! I never made up to my mom, I never saw my dad again-there's so, so much I've lost that I'm completely convinced that losing anything else would require me to die at this point, or take something away that's bugging me, which obviously won't happen."
"... Fuck you. This is all just some attempt to stop me from attacking you. Or, put another way-to block me from attacking you, to wrap me up in my own hopeful fantasies or my own crippling indecision, or worse. And guess what?"
Leah doesn't even turn to the door. She can already see it in her mind's eye.
"YOU'RE FUCKED!"
In the midst of a total void the Godmodder lays in wait as the players slowly trickle back into the field, one way or another, hopefully with fresh scars and torments and-
A million defenses ring out at once, casually informing the Godmodder an attack was incoming. Odd, though-there were only so few present. Oh well, he has precautions, a million of them. He turns around-
"-BREAKING NEWS! The Godmodding Cycle is over!"
Oh goddamnit not this again. John Smith blinks. He's back at his couch, back at his miserable cubicle-like home (though it was not an actual cubicle), watching television as he always did. In fact-he was pretty sure it was that day, wasn't it? Rain prattled against a window, a fly buzzed in the kitchen, he had just shaved, and on the television was the Battlefield, and her last sister, moments before death.
Except the camera feed didn't cut out-and in a blaze of light, the mechanical monstrosity in front of her was annihilated in a burst of... God, what was it even? John couldn't tell.
"Our new governmental efforts to crowd-source attack ideas and send them to Players in need of creative attacks proved to be a monumental source of inspiration and thus leverage against the Godmodder, enabling the eternal stalemate to break in favor of the Players! The Final Wall, indeed, proved final!"
John blinks. He blinks twice. He does not feel anything that a perfectly normal person wouldn't feel, except of course for the blazing, nagging feeling that this wasn't right. He hated having attacks turned against him like this, but... This felt different from that. It felt way too real. Almost like everything past now was a fanciful daydream of his rise to omnipotence. He put a hand to his temple, but he couldn't for the life of him think of any of the details, they seemed to shift and blur like the water, but not too much that he couldn't vividly recall quite a bit too-so he just kept watching the television, talking about how the whole 'croud-sourcing' worked. Apparently it wasn't direct; people would basically just toss words on a paper and let the players interpret it. Text flashed on the screen as an example: "Magical Girl tutored by Baldi." John blinks, that's... Actually pretty interesting when he ran it through his head. Damn.
"It has been in addition confirmed that the Godmodder has left no apprentices! The Final Wall was made not just to contain the Godmodder, but also to prevent them from creating new Godmodder Apprentices while they lived. Various sources from outside the planes have confirmed that no new Godmodder apprentice has been sighted. While this addition to the Wall was cited as 'a major contributing factor' to the three-year stalemate, it has paid dividends; with this Godmodder's death, the cycle of Godmodding itself, and thus the countless years of suffering, are finally over, on this historic day!"
John Smith blinked. The channel switched over to a view of the surviving players. He saw his sister, plain as day, among the survivors, front and center. Was she the face of these players? The news feed rolled on and on about their rewards-increased player pension money, honors from across the globe, inter-planar diplomatic rights, the works-and yet something in his heart felt unusually heavy. The entirety of Godmodding? Gone?
His dream? Squashed? Was this...
he thought back to the moment prior to now. He had just used his third Combat Operandi, Personalized Hell. He had made extraordinarily sure that some of the bait he laid had powerful effects that would be unable to perform reprecussions on him... Which among them could do such a thing, though?
His head springs a name-Leah! That stupid bitch. "One Roleplay Related Wish," which coincidentally couldn't harm him. All fair and well, but with so many things to juggle as he went he didn't notice an obvious banana peel on the road-it didn't have to be her roleplay. Did his backstory count as roleplay, actually? And, didn't she break it? Did she have an ace up her sleeve or was this just inspired? Was it even her?
Was it even real? Or is this just a treachery of images and words?
John pinches himself. No. He steps on his foot. No-no more harming himself, either. That'd be stupid, in case this was all fake. He goes to the sink and washes his face. No, no, its not going away-its very real, whatever's happening. He tries to use his power to make a Godmodding construct-no. John had a vivid imagination but it was fake, fake, fake, not there, it wasn't real. He didn't have his powers. He didn't have powers at all. Did he ever? Was that just a dream?
... Just a dream?
He did his usual nightly routine, with a few ammendments to check for horrific deathtraps in his bed. He didn't want to find out if this was all an elaborate hoax. And also, he didn't want to die. That was also possible-that it was all fake. But a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone.
The following morning had John feel the worst he ever had-perfectly normal. He was certain that right beforehand he had been a capital-G Godmodder, and the strongest of them all-about to remake reality in his image if not for some unusually competent Players. Now, either because of the machinations of one or because he dozed off to an implausible degree, he was right back where he was. He at least remembered the routine-if nothing else he didn't want to look completely insane. Take every precaution. Get dressed, go to work.
Work took all of a second to derail from its monotomy-instead of any paperwork on his desk, it had a notes stating that John was to head to the office. God, not the office-that meant there was a meeting with his boss incoming. He trudged in, expecting a verbal flagellation.
"John, don't even worry about getting fired," the Boss said almost as soon as he entered the room. John blinked, caught off-guard. "It's bad news and good news but you're not fired, just, please, sit."
John looked at the chair his boss gestured to, and seeing nothing terribly offensive with it, sat down. It was pretty average as far as chairs went.
"... So, I said it was bad news and good news but its quite complicated. The simplest thing I can say is, well. You're definitely diligent. If anyone asks for a recommendation, i'd back it up. But, err, there's such a thing as too much diligence. You haven't taken a single day off in thirteen years," The boss said. "Now, err, we've recently gotten a bit of an earful about it from the government, as this apparently qualifies as a form of workplace abuse? Point is, you now have two weeks of paid leave, on top of the celebratory week for the whole 'victory against the Godmodder' hype everyone's swept in on. Only catch is you start right now and you do not set foot on these premises again, until the three weeks are up. "
John twitched a bit on hearing 'victory against the Godmodder.' It was almost an insult, like his whole life just crashed into the ground after being lifted into the heavens. Still, that... Wasn't bad. At all. Three weeks of paid leave? Fair enough, he probably deserved it. John had almost no idea on what to do other than maybe see a psychologist or something. Maybe. John nodded.
"Oh, and John? I was seriously hoping you weren't coming here today. Like. The sign was up, we're closed. I figured you'd miss the email we sent... You do just seem to zone in on work, you know? Like there's nothing else there. Its almost like a trance. But you get the point, right?"
John nodded.
"Good. Thank you for your time, John."
John paced in his apartment. Nothing had changed, except he now had three weeks of not having to care about the stupid grind in his stupid cubicle. Ugh-stupid grind in his stupid cubicle. Grindstones. Was she taunting him? Did she even exist? Did that even happen? Even he couldn't make it out. Too real to be imagined, too hazed to be true. He couldn't watch that damnable television anymore, something about the endless coverage of the Players made him want to puke. He still left it on, though, wondering if it would give him any inspiration.
There had to be something he missed... Something. HE thought and thought... Hrm. Did he give anyone any cheap out? A few he made temptations, others devastating blows to morale-wait. Temptations.
His mind flashed, painfully. Oh. Oh god. Oh god no. It clicked together in a horrific flash of insight. Fear lumped in his chest.. The Wishing Star! That stupid thing! But how-he made sure it couldn't possibly affect him... Or did he?! John mulled it over a bit further-and curled up his lip. Did his backstory count as RP? Did he strictly, forcefully limit its power to only affect Leah's personal backstory? Suddenly it made sense-warping the 'backstory' would have made so much more sense had his Critical Soul Weakness not been targeted. His past open to the public, Leah could opt to alter that instead. All his work was undone.
... Right?
John calmed down a bit. No. That can't be. That seriously can't be it-and he wasn't thinking of this in an attempt to deny reality, but rather an attempt to seriously consider what was ongoing. His eyes look over to the television, leering on a picture of his sister... His sister, a Player. She'd know, wouldn't she? Even if this were a simulation, he had nothing else left to lose, right?
Last he checked he still had his Infinileaf Clover power as a Godmodder above. Luck was on his side. It was a shot in the dark-which is to say, a guarenteed success. And even if it wasn't, well. She wouldn't kill him over it.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
John never thought he'd see a house this big in his life, much less walk up to it. Not before he became the Godmodder, and perhaps it was even more incredulous that he was technically doing so without being one now. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
His sister was of little note to him, other than that she had a moderate appreciation for math. She worked for a stock-trading company in some relatively unimportant role before becoming a Player, or so the news endlessly buzzed. John didn't know. He stopped talking to his folks years ago. Still, he didn't part on bad terms. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door opened. To his moderate surprise, it wasn't a butler or a maid but his actual sister, who blinked at him in surprise. "John?"
"Hello, sis."
"..."
Silence.
"... I need to talk to you about things. Not money things."
"Why are you here, John?"
"Three weeks of paid leave."
"Three weeks?"
"Boss asked. Worked too hard, of all things."
"... Huh."
"'Huh' indeed. Can I come in?"
A nod. John walked in. He refused to flinch at the opulence, the endless wealth she had. How much cash went into making this place? It didn't appear to be a recent construction, at least.
"Is it about the Godmodder?" She said. John had to instinctively resist the urge to react as if he was being referred to while in disguise. His sister never knew him as a Godmodder. She was talking about someone else, and not him.
"Yes and no."
"... Haven't bothered with the news?"
"Hated it after the first few repeats. Same old drivel over and over again will fry anyone's brain."
"Still not satisfied with anything, I see," She said. "You said this was about the Godmodder."
"It's a really long story, and I'll sound insane. You have to treat it seriously though. You know how it can be."
"... Are you-"
"That's a complicated question. But for the practical answer of if it's OK to stab me in the chest, no. Do not. Please. I am not currently a Godmodder. But-and this is the odd part, for me-I might have been. Or, I might've dreamed it all up, far too vividly. I can't tell which."
Silence. His sister's eyes were wild with sudden anticipation, almost fear-as if she was suddenly face-to-face with death itself. It was a look he was accustomed to, but right now it wasn't useful.
John breathed. "Am I allowed to explain this stupid story?"
His sister's eyes were still electric, but she let him in.
Two chairs, and a single table between them.
He breathed in, taking in the ambience. His sister was tense, unsure of if this was her brother or a menace to be eradicated, a secret apprentice.
Energy filled John as he started to talk. Words fell out of his mouth in waves. He talked, he talked, he talked; he talked about how he first saw the television report in his 'vision,' how he saw a request for new players, and how he accepted.
Going to what was his certain doom, he fell into the battlefield, meeting the Godmodder-and meeting Worf, who believed in a 'no-entity' strategy to defeating the Godmodder. No-she wasn't there. She died, most likely.
Obviously this 'no entity' strategy failed. John was left with a choice, to kill Wort or 'go down as a hero.' He almost felt as if his sister may've symphatized with his decision, not knowing the intricacies of Godmodding, how it corrupted the mind.
Devastation surrounding him and his betrayal complete, he talked of the Godmodder forcibly summoning him to a deep place to become his apprentice, and how he reacted-with glee at the idea of something so incredibly free existing, how that opened his mind and made him unbelievably happy in ways he didn't even know he could be.
Mesmerized by the secret history of Godmodders, he propelled himself further and further, bypassing mental tortures upon mental tortures until he was the only one left, and his master's apprentice at last.
Over time he grew stronger, but also more privy to the machinations of his superior. He eventually saw a large, competent-ish group of players and plotted to kill them and his master in a fell swoop.
Double betrayals-a button pressed and a locking mechanism activated, and suddenly Verraad rose from nothingness to prominence, and in this moment he realized it-nothing, nothing short of total conquest of reality would do for him. Everyone else had gone for a personal objective and failed, but what did Verraad have in his past life? As John Smith, he held no grudges but also nothing precious. Everything was neutral. So he went.
Death would follow him as he raised his army and razed countless worlds, establishing dominance throughout reality as he conquered and conquered, but eventually he would encounter his homeworld once again.
Earth proved unrealistically resilient, as players would ceaselessly defend it, and no matter what he did they would be, if nothing else, so thoroughly numerous that he could never progress far. Even as he it record amounts of time and life as a Godmodder, ultimately the world proved too tough to crack, and the rest of the planes rallied behind it. This was clearly not the way forwards, so he pondered the idea, and eventually came up with a solution.
Reality two-point-oh. A reality where he already ruled one-hundred percent of everything with zero percent chance of rebellion. He had it all planned out before he even started; the exact tribulations and how he would relentlessly game every last one, the aquisition of the Legendary Weapons by other players, simple-but-devastating Sealed Bosses for his ingenious plans, And eventually he waited, building more power than any Godmodder before him.
In time his reputation was legendary. There was no Godmodder like him and likely none would ever aspire to be like him. But even he had to follow the old rules.
Soon the urge to find an apprentice was too much to bear. He eventually found one.
Alice-that was her name. And after that, for a time, things just seemed to drag on. No-one was competent enough, or dumb enough, to find the Legendary Weapons for him, one way or another, much less defeat him. Another stalemate. He was almost beginning to contemplate another course.
But one day this changed; a group of players fell to him in battle, but as they regained consciousness in the soul orb, it was like they became as things unto gods, a type of Player beyond Players, simply so ferociously competent that he was forced to use contingencies he had never dreamed of using.
Invincible bosses, thwarted; impossible challenges, handily ruined. Only their amnesia on the nature of the Legendary Weapons, and one genuinely clever deception following off of it, kept his schemes alive, and even then he was almost assured it wouldn't work, that these players would finally kill him. But soon, they had assembled enough of the weapons that he could begin his plan.
Godmodding power bolstered by the relics they had already collected and the tougher of his forces starting to bear their fangs, the Godmodder began actively seeking the rest. First, his prior trick payed off, and he cornered the Players at the Bank of Actions location that he had successfully tricked them to raid-but even then they caught on and stopped everything, but he brought to them too much to bear. He thought it was over.
Losses upon losses-transient though they may've been, they were incredibly severe, and the Godmodder almost wondered if it was all worth it, if not for the Legendary Weapons nearly being totally assembled in their entirety. It was too much to bear. He retrieved the Allsight Spectacles, and with that five of his seven artifacts remained. But another hitch in the plan made itself manifest.
Out of the Shadow Realm of his soul those Players beyond Players ripped themselves free, backed by hell and ready to take him on. And thus, even pitting five unbelievable tribulations against them to the best of his ability, even as he narrowly completed each one, even as he threw the end of reality itself at them-they preservered. But even as they preservered with godly power, he preservered too, and by the skin of his teeth, he had slain God and Satan (not in that order) and obtained power beyond power, and the ability to enact his grand plan.
Supremacy was his. Almost. His past caught up to him in the form of a cubicle-the same kind he had always worked in, a symbol of the life he loathed, of the thing he was, of the boredom that drove him and consumed him to become the tyrant he was today. his Critical Soul Weakness
Even this was not enough to kill him-and thus his final battle began, and he unleashed his greatest techniques. But, suddenly, he was here.
Resting from his extended tirade, he looked his sister dead in the eye. He didn't know what to do now. All of it was gone. Was it all just fantasy?
His sister replied, "What're the first letters of each paragraph in bolded courier new?"
"What?"
The Godmodder blinked. He was back. He was almost ready to celebrate. BUt then, he saw Leah-back from her realm. He sensed it-the Wishing Star... Wasn't used? It was just broken into trillions of pieces. Leah walked out the door ages ago, Omniglot in tow (as always). Oh, whatever-if she had a fanciful cutscene to make him feel bad as a welcome back present, so be it, it was dumb.
But then-"What're the first letters of each paragraph in bolded courier new?"
The Godmodder mouthed it to himself. And then he gasped, involuntarily. No. It can't be! It can't be! But it was-it was even in the deathly red truth, a truth impervious to lying.
"THE GODMODDER IS A BIG LOSER"
The Godmodder's combat operandi preemtively explodes at this incredible devastation, the proof of the Godmodder being a big loser neutering its effects, especially against Leah. And maybe also causing the Godmodder more than a mild amount of pain.
With her was Omniglot-it was impossible for it to be otherwise. Behind her was a door with a sign, and in her hands... In her hands...
"Know this: This is this power of the Architechts, of which you know much of. This is the power of casualty and fate. This is the power of the Wishing Star. This is the power to grant any wish, on these caveats: It cannot reach into the present, only the past. It cannot be used to kill or harm another, but may bring life. It will not carry side-effects that you will not be aware of prior to making the wish, and no wish will be granted against your consent. That is the power of this Wishing Star."
Leah's eyes widen. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. She was just fighting the Godmodder seconds ago, and the player powers at her disposal are almost always some kind of instinct against traps and tricks. This time, this time it is real. Really, really real.
"But. This star is empty and devoid of power. This being the work of the Architects, we have this knowledge: it is due to the one known as the 'Godmodder' sapping it from this star."
... Leah rolled her eyes. Of course.
"The Godmodder has made an arrangement. Wound thyself further to the stage two below your own, and the star's power shall be reignited, though you may preview wishes freely. Leave through the door and the star shall be revoked. This voice is naught but the meager artificial intelligence betsowed upon this star by the Architechts, and thus, this voice is truthful."
Leah sighed. Of course, it was all a trap.
"Omniglot. Can you..." Leah's voice trails off. Her mind is still affixed on the possibilities.
"The Star is legitimate, as is the bargain."
... Leah turns back to the Star. She could be rich-actually rich. She could have her family and her friends alive and well. Obvious temptations-it almost didn't need to be said. And yet, obviously, threatening her chances of defeating the Godmodder that'd literally ruin reality would be unacceptable.
...And yet.
"..."
Leah had to think about this. No. There was simply no way, no way that this was the case. This wasn't just too good to be true, it was too good to exist. She had to turn this down, but... There's the moral obligation to ressurect those lost in her long journey. Possibly even the people who she didn't like, necessarily. Undo all the pointless suffering-though she couldn't edit Godmodders out of history, she could at least ease the pain of god-knows-how-many. All she'd need to do is jeopardize her life, which, while certainly a very lopsided deal, would mean jeopardizing the murder of the Godmodder. which meant the end of existence itself. The logical choice, then, was not to make a wish.
And yet. This was his work. Did he want this? Did he not want this?
"Omniglot, how long would it take us to return to the fight?"
"It would, by the Arbiter's terms, take a round, or a tenth of the time before John Smith would retain full power."
"... Do you think he can hear us?"
"Yes. For certain."
Leah stands up straight, Wishing Star still in her palm.
"... John Smith. Let's be clear, you were never Verraad, and 'The Godmodder' is not who you are. I'm not exactly a fan of you. But I can get it," Leah says, into the empty void-the empty void that would await all that is if she failed. "A life full of nothing but the grinding of the gears, endless paperwork and busywork with nothing of importance. Your co-workers treated you as a potted plant. I could say that you arguably could have done better for yourself, but I wasn't there. I'll also have to say I'm sorry about your sister, though I know you don't care about her and probably never did. I'm just sorry she had to be your sister. But, again, I can get it. Its... Its honestly my fear as well, that one at the back of your head that you dismiss because, like, I'unno, 'I'm a teenager the world is my oyster!' But the idea that you just get sucked into this horrible thing you dislike and can't stop doing it nor find anything better is... Yeah, that's dystopia for me."
"... I was sucked into this whole affair 'cause, like, everything basically exploded around me and my friends. You had the choice to go into there and do what you wished to do, the one escape you could think of, to escape that monotony. I can't really say I wouldn't have picked the same as you in that situation, and I guess likewise thrust into mine you'd be as thrilled as me-not, not one bit. A change in perspective is a hell of a thing, but I've been thinking about it ever since your side of this story finally came out in the open. Kinda shocking, but not surprising... You weren't always 'The Godmodder' after all."
Leah's grip tightens around the star.
"In a sense, I guess what you've honestly done is just chuck me into some kind of epiphanic prison or something stupid, and uh, I can't leave unless I do something really crazy and learn something about myself, for real. But I think I get it, with you. You really don't get who I am or what i went through in kind. I guess I haven't said it in full, but the idea of being on the run, certain death behind you, with only a weird dream man's generosity to guide you to safety, if its even smart to trust 'em? I think the idea of excitement that wasn't really mortal terror ever struck you. I guess the idea of losing whatever you had left was never scary to you. I guess, uh, to be cliche, that you never had anything like a friend, like Margaret or Natalie or even that weird creepy Grimm guy. And, honestly? That doesn't actually excuse you at all."
Leah's grip tightens.
"The thing I fear the most of anything else in the world-that's what you want to hear, right? Well, I'm living it. Right now. Every second! NOt just that all I've done is going to literally be for nothing, as its' always been, but that I'm being thrown into these impossible situations, and people expect a teenage girl who did not volunteer to be thrown into life or death situations, to just like, suck it up and go all Atlas with the entire desires and hopes of reality with powers beyond her own fathoming while this invincible jackass lays siege to it, and it's completely totally unfair! It's absolutely insane! And yet here I am doing it anyways. I've blown up holes in streets when I heard cans tumbling and that was without player power! I'm a danger to everyone I know, and that's a short list now! Everyone I ever knew is dead and it isn't even your fault! I've looked at my own gravestone and its so old I couldn't even tell it was my name! I never made up to my mom, I never saw my dad again-there's so, so much I've lost that I'm completely convinced that losing anything else would require me to die at this point, or take something away that's bugging me, which obviously won't happen."
"... Fuck you. This is all just some attempt to stop me from attacking you. Or, put another way-to block me from attacking you, to wrap me up in my own hopeful fantasies or my own crippling indecision, or worse. And guess what?"
Leah doesn't even turn to the door. She can already see it in her mind's eye.
"YOU'RE FUCKED!"
In the midst of a total void the Godmodder lays in wait as the players slowly trickle back into the field, one way or another, hopefully with fresh scars and torments and-
A million defenses ring out at once, casually informing the Godmodder an attack was incoming. Odd, though-there were only so few present. Oh well, he has precautions, a million of them. He turns around-
"-BREAKING NEWS! The Godmodding Cycle is over!"
Oh goddamnit not this again. John Smith blinks. He's back at his couch, back at his miserable cubicle-like home (though it was not an actual cubicle), watching television as he always did. In fact-he was pretty sure it was that day, wasn't it? Rain prattled against a window, a fly buzzed in the kitchen, he had just shaved, and on the television was the Battlefield, and her last sister, moments before death.
Except the camera feed didn't cut out-and in a blaze of light, the mechanical monstrosity in front of her was annihilated in a burst of... God, what was it even? John couldn't tell.
"Our new governmental efforts to crowd-source attack ideas and send them to Players in need of creative attacks proved to be a monumental source of inspiration and thus leverage against the Godmodder, enabling the eternal stalemate to break in favor of the Players! The Final Wall, indeed, proved final!"
John blinks. He blinks twice. He does not feel anything that a perfectly normal person wouldn't feel, except of course for the blazing, nagging feeling that this wasn't right. He hated having attacks turned against him like this, but... This felt different from that. It felt way too real. Almost like everything past now was a fanciful daydream of his rise to omnipotence. He put a hand to his temple, but he couldn't for the life of him think of any of the details, they seemed to shift and blur like the water, but not too much that he couldn't vividly recall quite a bit too-so he just kept watching the television, talking about how the whole 'croud-sourcing' worked. Apparently it wasn't direct; people would basically just toss words on a paper and let the players interpret it. Text flashed on the screen as an example: "Magical Girl tutored by Baldi." John blinks, that's... Actually pretty interesting when he ran it through his head. Damn.
"It has been in addition confirmed that the Godmodder has left no apprentices! The Final Wall was made not just to contain the Godmodder, but also to prevent them from creating new Godmodder Apprentices while they lived. Various sources from outside the planes have confirmed that no new Godmodder apprentice has been sighted. While this addition to the Wall was cited as 'a major contributing factor' to the three-year stalemate, it has paid dividends; with this Godmodder's death, the cycle of Godmodding itself, and thus the countless years of suffering, are finally over, on this historic day!"
John Smith blinked. The channel switched over to a view of the surviving players. He saw his sister, plain as day, among the survivors, front and center. Was she the face of these players? The news feed rolled on and on about their rewards-increased player pension money, honors from across the globe, inter-planar diplomatic rights, the works-and yet something in his heart felt unusually heavy. The entirety of Godmodding? Gone?
His dream? Squashed? Was this...
he thought back to the moment prior to now. He had just used his third Combat Operandi, Personalized Hell. He had made extraordinarily sure that some of the bait he laid had powerful effects that would be unable to perform reprecussions on him... Which among them could do such a thing, though?
His head springs a name-Leah! That stupid bitch. "One Roleplay Related Wish," which coincidentally couldn't harm him. All fair and well, but with so many things to juggle as he went he didn't notice an obvious banana peel on the road-it didn't have to be her roleplay. Did his backstory count as roleplay, actually? And, didn't she break it? Did she have an ace up her sleeve or was this just inspired? Was it even her?
Was it even real? Or is this just a treachery of images and words?
John pinches himself. No. He steps on his foot. No-no more harming himself, either. That'd be stupid, in case this was all fake. He goes to the sink and washes his face. No, no, its not going away-its very real, whatever's happening. He tries to use his power to make a Godmodding construct-no. John had a vivid imagination but it was fake, fake, fake, not there, it wasn't real. He didn't have his powers. He didn't have powers at all. Did he ever? Was that just a dream?
... Just a dream?
He did his usual nightly routine, with a few ammendments to check for horrific deathtraps in his bed. He didn't want to find out if this was all an elaborate hoax. And also, he didn't want to die. That was also possible-that it was all fake. But a healthy dose of paranoia never hurt anyone.
The following morning had John feel the worst he ever had-perfectly normal. He was certain that right beforehand he had been a capital-G Godmodder, and the strongest of them all-about to remake reality in his image if not for some unusually competent Players. Now, either because of the machinations of one or because he dozed off to an implausible degree, he was right back where he was. He at least remembered the routine-if nothing else he didn't want to look completely insane. Take every precaution. Get dressed, go to work.
Work took all of a second to derail from its monotomy-instead of any paperwork on his desk, it had a notes stating that John was to head to the office. God, not the office-that meant there was a meeting with his boss incoming. He trudged in, expecting a verbal flagellation.
"John, don't even worry about getting fired," the Boss said almost as soon as he entered the room. John blinked, caught off-guard. "It's bad news and good news but you're not fired, just, please, sit."
John looked at the chair his boss gestured to, and seeing nothing terribly offensive with it, sat down. It was pretty average as far as chairs went.
"... So, I said it was bad news and good news but its quite complicated. The simplest thing I can say is, well. You're definitely diligent. If anyone asks for a recommendation, i'd back it up. But, err, there's such a thing as too much diligence. You haven't taken a single day off in thirteen years," The boss said. "Now, err, we've recently gotten a bit of an earful about it from the government, as this apparently qualifies as a form of workplace abuse? Point is, you now have two weeks of paid leave, on top of the celebratory week for the whole 'victory against the Godmodder' hype everyone's swept in on. Only catch is you start right now and you do not set foot on these premises again, until the three weeks are up. "
John twitched a bit on hearing 'victory against the Godmodder.' It was almost an insult, like his whole life just crashed into the ground after being lifted into the heavens. Still, that... Wasn't bad. At all. Three weeks of paid leave? Fair enough, he probably deserved it. John had almost no idea on what to do other than maybe see a psychologist or something. Maybe. John nodded.
"Oh, and John? I was seriously hoping you weren't coming here today. Like. The sign was up, we're closed. I figured you'd miss the email we sent... You do just seem to zone in on work, you know? Like there's nothing else there. Its almost like a trance. But you get the point, right?"
John nodded.
"Good. Thank you for your time, John."
John paced in his apartment. Nothing had changed, except he now had three weeks of not having to care about the stupid grind in his stupid cubicle. Ugh-stupid grind in his stupid cubicle. Grindstones. Was she taunting him? Did she even exist? Did that even happen? Even he couldn't make it out. Too real to be imagined, too hazed to be true. He couldn't watch that damnable television anymore, something about the endless coverage of the Players made him want to puke. He still left it on, though, wondering if it would give him any inspiration.
There had to be something he missed... Something. HE thought and thought... Hrm. Did he give anyone any cheap out? A few he made temptations, others devastating blows to morale-wait. Temptations.
His mind flashed, painfully. Oh. Oh god. Oh god no. It clicked together in a horrific flash of insight. Fear lumped in his chest.. The Wishing Star! That stupid thing! But how-he made sure it couldn't possibly affect him... Or did he?! John mulled it over a bit further-and curled up his lip. Did his backstory count as RP? Did he strictly, forcefully limit its power to only affect Leah's personal backstory? Suddenly it made sense-warping the 'backstory' would have made so much more sense had his Critical Soul Weakness not been targeted. His past open to the public, Leah could opt to alter that instead. All his work was undone.
... Right?
John calmed down a bit. No. That can't be. That seriously can't be it-and he wasn't thinking of this in an attempt to deny reality, but rather an attempt to seriously consider what was ongoing. His eyes look over to the television, leering on a picture of his sister... His sister, a Player. She'd know, wouldn't she? Even if this were a simulation, he had nothing else left to lose, right?
Last he checked he still had his Infinileaf Clover power as a Godmodder above. Luck was on his side. It was a shot in the dark-which is to say, a guarenteed success. And even if it wasn't, well. She wouldn't kill him over it.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
John never thought he'd see a house this big in his life, much less walk up to it. Not before he became the Godmodder, and perhaps it was even more incredulous that he was technically doing so without being one now. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
His sister was of little note to him, other than that she had a moderate appreciation for math. She worked for a stock-trading company in some relatively unimportant role before becoming a Player, or so the news endlessly buzzed. John didn't know. He stopped talking to his folks years ago. Still, he didn't part on bad terms. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door opened. To his moderate surprise, it wasn't a butler or a maid but his actual sister, who blinked at him in surprise. "John?"
"Hello, sis."
"..."
Silence.
"... I need to talk to you about things. Not money things."
"Why are you here, John?"
"Three weeks of paid leave."
"Three weeks?"
"Boss asked. Worked too hard, of all things."
"... Huh."
"'Huh' indeed. Can I come in?"
A nod. John walked in. He refused to flinch at the opulence, the endless wealth she had. How much cash went into making this place? It didn't appear to be a recent construction, at least.
"Is it about the Godmodder?" She said. John had to instinctively resist the urge to react as if he was being referred to while in disguise. His sister never knew him as a Godmodder. She was talking about someone else, and not him.
"Yes and no."
"... Haven't bothered with the news?"
"Hated it after the first few repeats. Same old drivel over and over again will fry anyone's brain."
"Still not satisfied with anything, I see," She said. "You said this was about the Godmodder."
"It's a really long story, and I'll sound insane. You have to treat it seriously though. You know how it can be."
"... Are you-"
"That's a complicated question. But for the practical answer of if it's OK to stab me in the chest, no. Do not. Please. I am not currently a Godmodder. But-and this is the odd part, for me-I might have been. Or, I might've dreamed it all up, far too vividly. I can't tell which."
Silence. His sister's eyes were wild with sudden anticipation, almost fear-as if she was suddenly face-to-face with death itself. It was a look he was accustomed to, but right now it wasn't useful.
John breathed. "Am I allowed to explain this stupid story?"
His sister's eyes were still electric, but she let him in.
Two chairs, and a single table between them.
He breathed in, taking in the ambience. His sister was tense, unsure of if this was her brother or a menace to be eradicated, a secret apprentice.
Energy filled John as he started to talk. Words fell out of his mouth in waves. He talked, he talked, he talked; he talked about how he first saw the television report in his 'vision,' how he saw a request for new players, and how he accepted.
Going to what was his certain doom, he fell into the battlefield, meeting the Godmodder-and meeting Worf, who believed in a 'no-entity' strategy to defeating the Godmodder. No-she wasn't there. She died, most likely.
Obviously this 'no entity' strategy failed. John was left with a choice, to kill Wort or 'go down as a hero.' He almost felt as if his sister may've symphatized with his decision, not knowing the intricacies of Godmodding, how it corrupted the mind.
Devastation surrounding him and his betrayal complete, he talked of the Godmodder forcibly summoning him to a deep place to become his apprentice, and how he reacted-with glee at the idea of something so incredibly free existing, how that opened his mind and made him unbelievably happy in ways he didn't even know he could be.
Mesmerized by the secret history of Godmodders, he propelled himself further and further, bypassing mental tortures upon mental tortures until he was the only one left, and his master's apprentice at last.
Over time he grew stronger, but also more privy to the machinations of his superior. He eventually saw a large, competent-ish group of players and plotted to kill them and his master in a fell swoop.
Double betrayals-a button pressed and a locking mechanism activated, and suddenly Verraad rose from nothingness to prominence, and in this moment he realized it-nothing, nothing short of total conquest of reality would do for him. Everyone else had gone for a personal objective and failed, but what did Verraad have in his past life? As John Smith, he held no grudges but also nothing precious. Everything was neutral. So he went.
Death would follow him as he raised his army and razed countless worlds, establishing dominance throughout reality as he conquered and conquered, but eventually he would encounter his homeworld once again.
Earth proved unrealistically resilient, as players would ceaselessly defend it, and no matter what he did they would be, if nothing else, so thoroughly numerous that he could never progress far. Even as he it record amounts of time and life as a Godmodder, ultimately the world proved too tough to crack, and the rest of the planes rallied behind it. This was clearly not the way forwards, so he pondered the idea, and eventually came up with a solution.
Reality two-point-oh. A reality where he already ruled one-hundred percent of everything with zero percent chance of rebellion. He had it all planned out before he even started; the exact tribulations and how he would relentlessly game every last one, the aquisition of the Legendary Weapons by other players, simple-but-devastating Sealed Bosses for his ingenious plans, And eventually he waited, building more power than any Godmodder before him.
In time his reputation was legendary. There was no Godmodder like him and likely none would ever aspire to be like him. But even he had to follow the old rules.
Soon the urge to find an apprentice was too much to bear. He eventually found one.
Alice-that was her name. And after that, for a time, things just seemed to drag on. No-one was competent enough, or dumb enough, to find the Legendary Weapons for him, one way or another, much less defeat him. Another stalemate. He was almost beginning to contemplate another course.
But one day this changed; a group of players fell to him in battle, but as they regained consciousness in the soul orb, it was like they became as things unto gods, a type of Player beyond Players, simply so ferociously competent that he was forced to use contingencies he had never dreamed of using.
Invincible bosses, thwarted; impossible challenges, handily ruined. Only their amnesia on the nature of the Legendary Weapons, and one genuinely clever deception following off of it, kept his schemes alive, and even then he was almost assured it wouldn't work, that these players would finally kill him. But soon, they had assembled enough of the weapons that he could begin his plan.
Godmodding power bolstered by the relics they had already collected and the tougher of his forces starting to bear their fangs, the Godmodder began actively seeking the rest. First, his prior trick payed off, and he cornered the Players at the Bank of Actions location that he had successfully tricked them to raid-but even then they caught on and stopped everything, but he brought to them too much to bear. He thought it was over.
Losses upon losses-transient though they may've been, they were incredibly severe, and the Godmodder almost wondered if it was all worth it, if not for the Legendary Weapons nearly being totally assembled in their entirety. It was too much to bear. He retrieved the Allsight Spectacles, and with that five of his seven artifacts remained. But another hitch in the plan made itself manifest.
Out of the Shadow Realm of his soul those Players beyond Players ripped themselves free, backed by hell and ready to take him on. And thus, even pitting five unbelievable tribulations against them to the best of his ability, even as he narrowly completed each one, even as he threw the end of reality itself at them-they preservered. But even as they preservered with godly power, he preservered too, and by the skin of his teeth, he had slain God and Satan (not in that order) and obtained power beyond power, and the ability to enact his grand plan.
Supremacy was his. Almost. His past caught up to him in the form of a cubicle-the same kind he had always worked in, a symbol of the life he loathed, of the thing he was, of the boredom that drove him and consumed him to become the tyrant he was today. his Critical Soul Weakness
Even this was not enough to kill him-and thus his final battle began, and he unleashed his greatest techniques. But, suddenly, he was here.
Resting from his extended tirade, he looked his sister dead in the eye. He didn't know what to do now. All of it was gone. Was it all just fantasy?
His sister replied, "What're the first letters of each paragraph in bolded courier new?"
"What?"
The Godmodder blinked. He was back. He was almost ready to celebrate. BUt then, he saw Leah-back from her realm. He sensed it-the Wishing Star... Wasn't used? It was just broken into trillions of pieces. Leah walked out the door ages ago, Omniglot in tow (as always). Oh, whatever-if she had a fanciful cutscene to make him feel bad as a welcome back present, so be it, it was dumb.
But then-"What're the first letters of each paragraph in bolded courier new?"
The Godmodder mouthed it to himself. And then he gasped, involuntarily. No. It can't be! It can't be! But it was-it was even in the deathly red truth, a truth impervious to lying.
"THE GODMODDER IS A BIG LOSER"
The Godmodder's combat operandi preemtively explodes at this incredible devastation, the proof of the Godmodder being a big loser neutering its effects, especially against Leah. And maybe also causing the Godmodder more than a mild amount of pain.
Blep.
But John/Veraad/the Godmodder/Blep doesn't know what Blep means. Then, he notices that Blep has somehow become a new identity of him, adding on to his three other ones. Once, he was John Smith the cubicle worker, then he became Verraad the Betrayer, then the Godmodder, but now he is also Blep, the Blep.
But what is Blep?
shrug
Blep did have that thing where all his pain would be delayed until a certain date. When's that date? In about 5 seconds. Years of falling down stairs, falling down stairs, falling down stairs, man Blep fell down a lot of stairs. There was also the time he died. It hurt a lot.
But John/Veraad/the Godmodder/Blep doesn't know what Blep means. Then, he notices that Blep has somehow become a new identity of him, adding on to his three other ones. Once, he was John Smith the cubicle worker, then he became Verraad the Betrayer, then the Godmodder, but now he is also Blep, the Blep.
But what is Blep?
shrug
Blep did have that thing where all his pain would be delayed until a certain date. When's that date? In about 5 seconds. Years of falling down stairs, falling down stairs, falling down stairs, man Blep fell down a lot of stairs. There was also the time he died. It hurt a lot.
'Yes It worked!' I mentally cheer that my idea to escape worked and I inwardly chuckle at John Smith's frustration at most of us escaping so quickly and rendering his Combat Operandi from last turn a almost total waste. 'But unfortunately John still has one more to hit us with and it sounds like it's going to be nasty.' I think to myself a little more somberly.
I see that ParadoxDragonPaci is getting ready to heal some of the more seriously injured players. 'Probably a good idea to try and get them patch up best we can. We need to be at our best for this last Combat Operandi.' I think to myself before then closing my eye and focusing a fair deal of energy into my next wish.
'I wish for ParadoxDragonPaci healing of injured players to be empowered to be more effective!' Suddenly in a flash of red light a couple of red translucent Doctors and Nurses appear next to ParadoxDragonPaci equipped with some of the finest medical equipment Player power can give. Quickly they set to work helping ParadoxDragonPaci with patching up the injured players that they are currently choosing to heal. (2 CP for helping ParadoxDragonPaci with their healing action.)
As I watch them get to work I suddenly realize that the Buckler Shield that I used earlier to escape is still with me. It's a bit worse for wear and appears to be drained but it is still mostly there. 'Well looking at it I think If I use a bit more power I can get one more use out of it. Well I'm not sure what John has planned for his final Combat Operandi but a attack shield probably would not hurt to have on hand.' Closing my eye I focus the last bit of my power into my wish. 'I wish for Buckler Shield to be re-energized so it can work one more time as a attack shield and protect me from harm.' Suddenly in a flash of red light the Buckler Shield now has a intense red tint to it and appears to now be made of a tougher material. (1 CP for a attack shield)
I see that ParadoxDragonPaci is getting ready to heal some of the more seriously injured players. 'Probably a good idea to try and get them patch up best we can. We need to be at our best for this last Combat Operandi.' I think to myself before then closing my eye and focusing a fair deal of energy into my next wish.
'I wish for ParadoxDragonPaci healing of injured players to be empowered to be more effective!' Suddenly in a flash of red light a couple of red translucent Doctors and Nurses appear next to ParadoxDragonPaci equipped with some of the finest medical equipment Player power can give. Quickly they set to work helping ParadoxDragonPaci with patching up the injured players that they are currently choosing to heal. (2 CP for helping ParadoxDragonPaci with their healing action.)
As I watch them get to work I suddenly realize that the Buckler Shield that I used earlier to escape is still with me. It's a bit worse for wear and appears to be drained but it is still mostly there. 'Well looking at it I think If I use a bit more power I can get one more use out of it. Well I'm not sure what John has planned for his final Combat Operandi but a attack shield probably would not hurt to have on hand.' Closing my eye I focus the last bit of my power into my wish. 'I wish for Buckler Shield to be re-energized so it can work one more time as a attack shield and protect me from harm.' Suddenly in a flash of red light the Buckler Shield now has a intense red tint to it and appears to now be made of a tougher material. (1 CP for a attack shield)
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"Well it's because we rock and you suck. If you didn't have something like three centuries of preparation on us we'd have easily wiped you from existence."
"...yeah hold up, what was that last?" ES gives Verraad a very funny look.
"In any case, I'll get to you later. For now I'll just heal myself up and think of what to hit you with." ES heals himself with GOOD LUCK, which counteracts the BAD LUCK with explosive mutual annihilation! But the byproduct of luck annihilation is healing, so he heals himself!
For some reason, something in my body demands me to not attack the godmodder. A big waste, it seems to say. Sans and papyrus deserve more than a throw away attack, they deserve MORE. My attack can wait, there are other matters to attend to.
FOCUS: FIGHT ON
So, instead of attacking the godmodder, i start gathering DETERMINATION. Bottles by the dozen fill with Red liquified power, that i then hand out to the most severely injured first, if not then handing it all around randomly.
FOCUS: FIGHT ON
So, instead of attacking the godmodder, i start gathering DETERMINATION. Bottles by the dozen fill with Red liquified power, that i then hand out to the most severely injured first, if not then handing it all around randomly.
Exoskeletal65
Guardian of Time
He/Him
Action 1:
"Well, this does seem to be a bit of a predicament," I say, my eyes sliding back and forth across my fleshy body. "I'm gonna have to do something about this."
My eyes slide in the direction of the godmodder, and I slither toward him. I creep up his leg, coating him in fresh viscera and ruining his attire. While he's screaming at me for ruining his clothes (which are dry-clean only), I force my way into his mouth and slide down his throat. As soon as I reach his stomach, I expand until it ruptures, and snake my way out. I start pushing organs aside, irreparably crushing a few of them in the process. Once I have easy access to his skeleton, I cover it in my own viscera to lubricate it, then pull the whole thing out through his left nostril. I then osmose into the skeleton and take on my original appearance.
Action 2:
Now without a skeleton, the godmodder sinks to the floor, functionally nothing more than a bag of skin filled with damaged organs. I stretch his skin over a pair of bongo drums and start poorly playing them. His brain, still fully functional, absolutely hates my awful bongo skills, which are probably only so bad because I'm playing them with sledgehammers instead of my hands. Once the bongos, and the godmodder's remains, are fully pulverized to dust, I vacuum them up and toss them into an incinerator.
Action 3:
Once I've burned the dust to ash (which is basically just another brand of dust), I incinerate the ashes, destroying them on a molecular level. Then, I flash freeze the particulate remnants, turning them into microscopic ice crystals. I combine the ice crystals into a slightly larger stone, creating a seventh Infinity Stone. Unfortunately for the godmodder, the stone gets included in Thanos' 'use the stones to destroy the stones' gambit, and gets reduced to atoms like the rest of the stones. I split those atoms, creating a nuclear explosion that thoroughly annihilates whatever's left of the godmodder.
"Well, this does seem to be a bit of a predicament," I say, my eyes sliding back and forth across my fleshy body. "I'm gonna have to do something about this."
My eyes slide in the direction of the godmodder, and I slither toward him. I creep up his leg, coating him in fresh viscera and ruining his attire. While he's screaming at me for ruining his clothes (which are dry-clean only), I force my way into his mouth and slide down his throat. As soon as I reach his stomach, I expand until it ruptures, and snake my way out. I start pushing organs aside, irreparably crushing a few of them in the process. Once I have easy access to his skeleton, I cover it in my own viscera to lubricate it, then pull the whole thing out through his left nostril. I then osmose into the skeleton and take on my original appearance.
Action 2:
Now without a skeleton, the godmodder sinks to the floor, functionally nothing more than a bag of skin filled with damaged organs. I stretch his skin over a pair of bongo drums and start poorly playing them. His brain, still fully functional, absolutely hates my awful bongo skills, which are probably only so bad because I'm playing them with sledgehammers instead of my hands. Once the bongos, and the godmodder's remains, are fully pulverized to dust, I vacuum them up and toss them into an incinerator.
Action 3:
Once I've burned the dust to ash (which is basically just another brand of dust), I incinerate the ashes, destroying them on a molecular level. Then, I flash freeze the particulate remnants, turning them into microscopic ice crystals. I combine the ice crystals into a slightly larger stone, creating a seventh Infinity Stone. Unfortunately for the godmodder, the stone gets included in Thanos' 'use the stones to destroy the stones' gambit, and gets reduced to atoms like the rest of the stones. I split those atoms, creating a nuclear explosion that thoroughly annihilates whatever's left of the godmodder.
GoldHero101
Warrior of Light and Darkness
He/Him
"Oh... heck you Leprechaun. Screw it."
3 ACTION FOCUS - RIDE THE DAMN HORSE: Gold jumps on Horse 3! "Woah there... Calm DOWN!" Gold pulls the horse into a portal, where the horse runs through a plains reminiscent to it's home. The horse begins to tear up... it decides to stay behind in the portal land! Gold leaves, closes the portal, and dusts off his hands. "Well, that's that."
3 ACTION FOCUS - RIDE THE DAMN HORSE: Gold jumps on Horse 3! "Woah there... Calm DOWN!" Gold pulls the horse into a portal, where the horse runs through a plains reminiscent to it's home. The horse begins to tear up... it decides to stay behind in the portal land! Gold leaves, closes the portal, and dusts off his hands. "Well, that's that."
[x0] I also talk to reality. not as part of the solution. Just because.
[1x] I look at the horse race. Horse race? No, it's not about getting to the end. This is clearly a horse race-to-the-bottom! that being a scenario where people are trying to sacrifice all of their values except monetary gain faster then everyone else! Sacrificing your values also traditionally gives you a boost, and brings everyone else down a little. But Horse 3- it hasn't tripped, and that means it has no impetus to race to the bottom, because the race is always to gain, and they are already in what they foolishly perceive to be 'the lead'. The other five, though... the smallest, weakest one, needs anything they can get. The Strongest one wants to maintain its pride. Both begin rapidly sacrificing their values. family! hay that tastes good! horseshoes! having kids! paying their subcontracters properly! mental health! non-manipulative tendencies! not being ridden by disgusting slobs! knowing what syphilis is! not infecting other horses with syphilis! doing fair and equitable racing! not betting on other horses beating them, then throwing the race! not preforming autocannibalism! only eating food with some nutritional value! not poisoning other horses! taking care of their descendants! not preforming regular cannibalism! using only the light side of magic! Not using the power of friendship! following all the injunctions in the operator limitations list in newmemogames! being popular on tweetbook! respecting the sanctity of their souls! respecting the sanctity of their workers souls! respecting the sanctity of their workers personal information! Not selling the metadata of their surveillance software to people! not sending people tigers when they're trying to buy chairs while sneakily purchasing their life insurance payouts and three copies of large deadly cat insurance! not hiring assassins!
After a furious race to the bottom, the two most exceptional horses both have only one value of any note left to sacrifice! the most guarded value of all! but, to win this race, they have to sacrifice it to Moloch, who always and everywhere offers to same deal: Sacrifice what you love most, and he will give you power. As long as the offer is open, it will be irresistible. So it ought be closed. And perhaps, soon it will be. But the offer is open. And so, the first horse sacrifices their most vaunted value:
Making sure to aleiwys us, the rigt gramior and spelong weven wehnn theiry in a urryj.!
And so, Horse 1, the weakest horse, wins the race to the bottom. Horse 6 was too prideful, and could not lower themselves to improper grammar.
Also,horse 3 can't Win the race to the bottom, because it's not Participating in the race to the bottom, because we know it's trying to do a normal horse race. besides which, making decisions isn't a matter of chance. you can't trip and sacrifice your values, because if you did it by accident, you haven't sacrificed the values, just happened to act exactly like you did without any intentionality.
[0x] I proceed to taunt the Godmodder.
"granted, of course, those were probably mostly for people who you didn't have as much to base the challenges on. But, other challenges. Like... mine."
"You failed with Those because... you didn't really understand the person. And also... because you made it really obvious they were challenges? Like, if you throw someone in a room which the only way to get out of is to do something they would never normally do, that's one thing. But if you do that, and say 'Also, this is a room you can only escape by doing something I think you'll never do', That gives away the entire point."
"If I was just in that room, no context, with player powers, it's Possible I would try more then just 'press the button really fast'. plausible, even! But I knew it was a challenge aimed at Me. and that meant the way to win was to Not do that."
"Your challenges need to not look personalised, if you ever try this again. but they also need to be personalised more accurately. The best way to stop me would be to [REDACTED], as of a year or two ago,which is in some ways the opposite of [DATA EXPUNGED]. [DATA EXPUNGED] could also work, yes, but [REDACTED] is-was- more reliable. Also, this goes without saying, but if you tried either of them now, it would be incredibly obvious that's what you were doing and I would be able to avoid them, and they still need to not be obviously personalised."
[1x]So. about that Brainb Leach, which the Godmodder bought and never paid for.
It's not brain bleach. I made sure, every time, it was Brainb Leach. So, the Godmodder put a leach on his brain, but it's not designed for brains, but brainbs, so he's fine, right? Wrong! It's a memory-removing brainb leach, and what could it remove memories from but Brains? and we know he applied it to his brain! now, before you object that it says "pours the bleach directly onto his brain" and not "pours the brainb leach directly onto his brain", bleach is actually an improperly-capitalised acronym for 'Brainb Leach'! the B stands for brainb, and the leach stands for... leach! technically, it should be BLeach, but that looks weird and like you don't know where your shift key is, so in all the formal academic circles (and also in my circles), they use 'Bleach' or 'bleach', depending on context. Additionally, while it is named 'Brainb Leach', I did say...
[0x]
Since the Godmodder forgot I did so, I taunt him again! Fun!
"granted, of course, those were probably mostly for people who you didn't have as much to base the challenges on. But, other challenges. Like... mine."
"You failed with Those because... you didn't really understand the person. And also... because you made it really obvious they were challenges? Like, if you throw someone in a room which the only way to get out of is to do something they would never normally do, that's one thing. But if you do that, and say 'Also, this is a room you can only escape by doing something I think you'll never do', That gives away the entire point."
"If I was just in that room, no context, with player powers, it's Possible I would try more then just 'press the button really fast'. plausible, even! But I knew it was a challenge aimed at Me. and that meant the way to win was to Not do that."
"Your challenges need to not look personalised, if you ever try this again. but they also need to be personalised more accurately. The best way to stop me would be to [REDACTED], as of a year or two ago,which is in some ways the opposite of [DATA EXPUNGED]. [DATA EXPUNGED] could also work, yes, but [REDACTED] is-was- more reliable. Also, this goes without saying, but if you tried either of them now, it would be incredibly obvious that's what you were doing and I would be able to avoid them, and they still need to not be obviously personalised."
[1x] Having said all that, I look at the Godmodder, look him up and down, examine his increasingly-battered body...
For all of about a second before I seem to notice something, look up and to the right, then turn around and walk away.
The Godmodder is confused by this for all of about a second, before he feels a metaphorical lance of pain piercing through him. He also realises, in a moment of surprise, that most of his bones are broken. But... why?-
The Air wavers in front of the Godmodder, and a long scroll of parchment floats down. Just visible on the first page are the words:
"A Treatise on the methodology, history, and practice of Godmodder attack number *ink smudge*,by JOEbob."
hurriedly picking up the scroll and unfurling it, the Godmodder starts reading. After all, if he knows what it is, he can counter! (and, knowing JOEbob, he'd claim its already been revealed so it shouldn't need to be specified.)
"Thus and Hencefore I shall initiate upon this tome a description of my most esteemed methodology in preparing, preforming, and completing the attack described in the text above. To initiate, it must be noted that the attack had within its structure several portions, including an acquiescence condition. At the beginning of my Assault was the structural formation of a pseudomagical matrix, which conjurated rocks; Thereafter, and whilst the Godmodder was likely struggling with understanding the inane purpose for which I had entombed him, I prepared an additional spell. there are multiple quite possibly useful spells that I might have made use of in happier times, but, alas, I had only prepared myself, prior, to produce explosive runes this morning -"
The Scroll then explodes violently. The Godmodder coughs out a bit of smoke. All right, Fine. Very funny. Looking around to find JOEbob and pound his face in, The Godmodder instead finds another scroll, exactly where the first one initially appeared. preparing a kinetic shield around himself in case of more explosive runes, he reads it.
"A Treatise on the methodology, History, and Practice of the Second Godmodder attack occurring within the Eight-thousand six-hundred and fifty-eighth post of the Defeat the Godmodder thread, By JOEbob, and with no explosive runes this time."
"Due to the previously described occurences within 8598, and the Godmodders counter being entirely Insufficient and failing to address more then the barest portions of the assaults description, In addition to my generalized deceleration of this intent, the Godmodder took severe internal and spiritual damage. In addition, while completely neglecting and avoiding any form of informative clarification with regards to the methodology of the Godmodder being harmed, I provided a scroll describing the beginning of a mostly-unrelated attack, on which I had inscribed several runes of omnidirectional kinetic dispersal. Luckily for any reader, this document does not contain such runes. This is because this document was conjured after the Godmodder discovered the irrelevance of the previous scroll, and gives, eventually, a quite informative description of the reasoning of the attack, to the extent that it is not implied by document 8598. For instance, it may not have been clear, but some minor changes had been made to non-vital portions of the maze in the previous animation due to my preperation of the attack being most durationed of many things, and in order to increase the attacks effectiveness. As a result, it would be accurate to state that I Prepared Soul-Rending Runes this Morning . Oh, and incendiary runes , whi-"
At this point, the scroll bursts into flames. Additionally, the soul-rending runes Spiritually explode violently, rending into the fresh wound in the Godmodders soul with vigour. But... this still doesn't explai-
"A Treatise on the Methodology, History, and Practice of the singular Godmodder Attack occurring within the post 8598 according to standardised location description, By JOEbob, and with a structure precluding harmful runes this time."
The Godmodder looks up to see a small box, which is emitting a recording of my speech. hopefully This one is shorter, he thinks- Or at least more to the point.
"This attack is destined to fail. Why is unclear, but it will not succeed on the initial posting. And, to be clear to future readers, my statement regarding the destiny of failure refers to post 8598, and not the action within which I will be embedding this report; that one I still suspect will succeed. Regardless, On inspection, it is somewhat probable that the failure was due to issues involving the formating of the glowing text within the standard editor, something I quite likely ought to have initially considered (Though it ought have been sufficient in that scenario as well, as the standard editor has a lighter-colored background that would allow for the reading of otherwise background-colored text. It is unclear as to why Precisely it failed, as mentioned.). There are, however, other considerations. For example, the Godmodder made no mention of the Tennis Ball, nor his reaction to the 'Pause' and 'FFWD' effects located within the post. Whilst he did threaten the beast, doing so requires Awareness of the beast; Awareness it is implausible for him to have possessed, as the Beast did not preform any actions of note prior to the initiation of the Pause, which would preclude negotiation due to the cessation of standard temporal flow. Whilst the Godmodder could have rendered himself immune to time shenanigans, this would have rendered him decidedly vulnerable to the Accelerated tennis ball, due to the scale of the FFWD effect which accelerated it. This left the Godmodder without a good success option, and ought have proved sufficient, but appears to have been ignored."
(At this point, the recording of JOE takes a deep breath, having not inhaled at any point in this... discussion?)
"Or, more accurately, it is probable that the Godmodder has used his multiple-times-demonstrated ability to Delay damage by pretending not to notice it- which always fails under scrutiny. There are other factors, however. Possibility 0 involves his declining to accept the validity of the dichotomy, and rendering himself immune to time shenanigans immediately After the tennis ball. There is no reason for him to do so from his own prespective, but very well. In that scenario, the 'Rocks' join in the fun, and while he would be able to keep away the beast in this scenario, he did not make any counter to the 'Rocks', which he would not be immune to in this instance due to their serving purely as Carriers for a strange form of pseudo-electric plusunfire. However, there is one Increasingly-Relevant outcome. One I included precisely in prediction of this variety of counter."
(At this point, there is another pause in the recording. Rather then for breath, it appears to be for effect- Though I probably also did breath in there.)
"Possibility 0(N^N), the name being irrelevant but the content decidedly the opposite. I shall summarise it here, but it would be best to simply re-read it, as I have explained it before. By his interaction with the beast, he gives implicit validity to the contents of the animation, which, for long and complicated reasons, contained a circle which implicitly represented, and was connected to, him on a metaphysical level. This has several effects, Such as his being imperfect at tennis, his consumption of four large tables of food, his being used as a glorified footstool by a criminal while being skewered by The Beast. Or his being squished into a quite unhealthy shape by a 'You are dead' sign. Or his sorta... weirdly contorting himself? while going around the maze. And several of these occurrences would clearly be unhealthy. And even after all of this, there's a few more things to consider..."
(there's another pause)
"For example, it was explicitly stated that Ziggy Fraud was somehow involved in the scenario of the Godmodder surviving everything else, though without ths' awojs gijthus' shtslhu lsdji' fdg' -"
As the Godmodder looks at the box in confusion, a vast, whirling portal into the underrealms appears, and from it arrives a tendrilled horror, screaming WHO DARES SUMMON ME, ABHOLOS, DEVOURER OF THE MISTS OF YORE. With so much on his plate, what with Abholos, the Godmodder is unable to deal with everything else. That, or he Tries to deal with everything else and gets devoured by Abholos- but if he tries to deal with the rest of the post, he'll probably fail and Still get eaten, so he's best off dealing with Abholos and letting himself take damage. (possibly including spiritual damage, such as the sort which might delay his reascedecension, but equally possibly not.)
Except... Doing any of that is against the terms of the challenge! The Bed isn't there to start with, so he'd have to make or retrieve one, which would be like a dead end since he'd turn around- And the bed's not even necessary! The decision of where to go is supposed to be made by dice roll! There isn't enough room in their stomach to survive eating all of the(unnecessary) food! being hit and squished by the YOU ARE DEAD popup isn't chance based, because they're paused at that point! The tennis game is impossible without multiple bodies or one really long one, though it's not needed! There are no rocks, because that would constitute a hazard! The hole is the wrong shape to fall through! Going through the hole would still require a dice roll being made first, which he cannot have made if it was an accident! Since he needs to select the right die manually, he can't have dropped it by accident! Etcetra!
[1x] I look at the horse race. Horse race? No, it's not about getting to the end. This is clearly a horse race-to-the-bottom! that being a scenario where people are trying to sacrifice all of their values except monetary gain faster then everyone else! Sacrificing your values also traditionally gives you a boost, and brings everyone else down a little. But Horse 3- it hasn't tripped, and that means it has no impetus to race to the bottom, because the race is always to gain, and they are already in what they foolishly perceive to be 'the lead'. The other five, though... the smallest, weakest one, needs anything they can get. The Strongest one wants to maintain its pride. Both begin rapidly sacrificing their values. family! hay that tastes good! horseshoes! having kids! paying their subcontracters properly! mental health! non-manipulative tendencies! not being ridden by disgusting slobs! knowing what syphilis is! not infecting other horses with syphilis! doing fair and equitable racing! not betting on other horses beating them, then throwing the race! not preforming autocannibalism! only eating food with some nutritional value! not poisoning other horses! taking care of their descendants! not preforming regular cannibalism! using only the light side of magic! Not using the power of friendship! following all the injunctions in the operator limitations list in newmemogames! being popular on tweetbook! respecting the sanctity of their souls! respecting the sanctity of their workers souls! respecting the sanctity of their workers personal information! Not selling the metadata of their surveillance software to people! not sending people tigers when they're trying to buy chairs while sneakily purchasing their life insurance payouts and three copies of large deadly cat insurance! not hiring assassins!
After a furious race to the bottom, the two most exceptional horses both have only one value of any note left to sacrifice! the most guarded value of all! but, to win this race, they have to sacrifice it to Moloch, who always and everywhere offers to same deal: Sacrifice what you love most, and he will give you power. As long as the offer is open, it will be irresistible. So it ought be closed. And perhaps, soon it will be. But the offer is open. And so, the first horse sacrifices their most vaunted value:
Making sure to aleiwys us, the rigt gramior and spelong weven wehnn theiry in a urryj.!
And so, Horse 1, the weakest horse, wins the race to the bottom. Horse 6 was too prideful, and could not lower themselves to improper grammar.
Also,horse 3 can't Win the race to the bottom, because it's not Participating in the race to the bottom, because we know it's trying to do a normal horse race. besides which, making decisions isn't a matter of chance. you can't trip and sacrifice your values, because if you did it by accident, you haven't sacrificed the values, just happened to act exactly like you did without any intentionality.
[0x] I proceed to taunt the Godmodder.
"Ok, so, for some of your challenges... they just kinda sucked, from the prespective of personalization? like, the username puns. Those weren't based on challengingness, they were. puns."
"granted, of course, those were probably mostly for people who you didn't have as much to base the challenges on. But, other challenges. Like... mine."
"You failed with Those because... you didn't really understand the person. And also... because you made it really obvious they were challenges? Like, if you throw someone in a room which the only way to get out of is to do something they would never normally do, that's one thing. But if you do that, and say 'Also, this is a room you can only escape by doing something I think you'll never do', That gives away the entire point."
"If I was just in that room, no context, with player powers, it's Possible I would try more then just 'press the button really fast'. plausible, even! But I knew it was a challenge aimed at Me. and that meant the way to win was to Not do that."
"Your challenges need to not look personalised, if you ever try this again. but they also need to be personalised more accurately. The best way to stop me would be to [REDACTED], as of a year or two ago,which is in some ways the opposite of [DATA EXPUNGED]. [DATA EXPUNGED] could also work, yes, but [REDACTED] is-was- more reliable. Also, this goes without saying, but if you tried either of them now, it would be incredibly obvious that's what you were doing and I would be able to avoid them, and they still need to not be obviously personalised."
[1x]So. about that Brainb Leach, which the Godmodder bought and never paid for.
It's not brain bleach. I made sure, every time, it was Brainb Leach. So, the Godmodder put a leach on his brain, but it's not designed for brains, but brainbs, so he's fine, right? Wrong! It's a memory-removing brainb leach, and what could it remove memories from but Brains? and we know he applied it to his brain! now, before you object that it says "pours the bleach directly onto his brain" and not "pours the brainb leach directly onto his brain", bleach is actually an improperly-capitalised acronym for 'Brainb Leach'! the B stands for brainb, and the leach stands for... leach! technically, it should be BLeach, but that looks weird and like you don't know where your shift key is, so in all the formal academic circles (and also in my circles), they use 'Bleach' or 'bleach', depending on context. Additionally, while it is named 'Brainb Leach', I did say...
Due to Brainb Leach not being Brain Bleach, the Godmodder doesn't have a resistance to it! Not only that, but due to the yorehammer powers, I can pierce all his defences! The Brainb Leach is already on his brain, so he can't dodge! with Resolute Heart powers gone from him, he can't remove the memory loss once it happens, and I can use it to render the Brainb Leach immune to damage by continually clearing it of the 'injured' status effect and all variations thereof, and all other bad statuses! Through the activation of this Brainb Leach, I begin leaching away all of the Godmodders most combat-relevant memories, like how to use Godmodding Powers to counter an attack! I also keep my end of the deal, having the leach spend half its leaching abilities on leaching away all his most traumatic memories (Which don't harm the Brainb Leach due to both resolute heart powers, and because it doesn't really have a brain of its own. It converts memories directly into heat once its had its fill.)
[0x]
Since the Godmodder forgot I did so, I taunt him again! Fun!
"Ok, so, for some of your challenges... they just kinda sucked, from the prespective of personalization? like, the username puns. Those weren't based on challengingness, they were. puns."
"granted, of course, those were probably mostly for people who you didn't have as much to base the challenges on. But, other challenges. Like... mine."
"You failed with Those because... you didn't really understand the person. And also... because you made it really obvious they were challenges? Like, if you throw someone in a room which the only way to get out of is to do something they would never normally do, that's one thing. But if you do that, and say 'Also, this is a room you can only escape by doing something I think you'll never do', That gives away the entire point."
"If I was just in that room, no context, with player powers, it's Possible I would try more then just 'press the button really fast'. plausible, even! But I knew it was a challenge aimed at Me. and that meant the way to win was to Not do that."
"Your challenges need to not look personalised, if you ever try this again. but they also need to be personalised more accurately. The best way to stop me would be to [REDACTED], as of a year or two ago,which is in some ways the opposite of [DATA EXPUNGED]. [DATA EXPUNGED] could also work, yes, but [REDACTED] is-was- more reliable. Also, this goes without saying, but if you tried either of them now, it would be incredibly obvious that's what you were doing and I would be able to avoid them, and they still need to not be obviously personalised."
[1x] Having said all that, I look at the Godmodder, look him up and down, examine his increasingly-battered body...
For all of about a second before I seem to notice something, look up and to the right, then turn around and walk away.
The Godmodder is confused by this for all of about a second, before he feels a metaphorical lance of pain piercing through him. He also realises, in a moment of surprise, that most of his bones are broken. But... why?-
The Air wavers in front of the Godmodder, and a long scroll of parchment floats down. Just visible on the first page are the words:
"A Treatise on the methodology, history, and practice of Godmodder attack number *ink smudge*,by JOEbob."
hurriedly picking up the scroll and unfurling it, the Godmodder starts reading. After all, if he knows what it is, he can counter! (and, knowing JOEbob, he'd claim its already been revealed so it shouldn't need to be specified.)
"Thus and Hencefore I shall initiate upon this tome a description of my most esteemed methodology in preparing, preforming, and completing the attack described in the text above. To initiate, it must be noted that the attack had within its structure several portions, including an acquiescence condition. At the beginning of my Assault was the structural formation of a pseudomagical matrix, which conjurated rocks; Thereafter, and whilst the Godmodder was likely struggling with understanding the inane purpose for which I had entombed him, I prepared an additional spell. there are multiple quite possibly useful spells that I might have made use of in happier times, but, alas, I had only prepared myself, prior, to produce explosive runes this morning -"
The Scroll then explodes violently. The Godmodder coughs out a bit of smoke. All right, Fine. Very funny. Looking around to find JOEbob and pound his face in, The Godmodder instead finds another scroll, exactly where the first one initially appeared. preparing a kinetic shield around himself in case of more explosive runes, he reads it.
"A Treatise on the methodology, History, and Practice of the Second Godmodder attack occurring within the Eight-thousand six-hundred and fifty-eighth post of the Defeat the Godmodder thread, By JOEbob, and with no explosive runes this time."
"Due to the previously described occurences within 8598, and the Godmodders counter being entirely Insufficient and failing to address more then the barest portions of the assaults description, In addition to my generalized deceleration of this intent, the Godmodder took severe internal and spiritual damage. In addition, while completely neglecting and avoiding any form of informative clarification with regards to the methodology of the Godmodder being harmed, I provided a scroll describing the beginning of a mostly-unrelated attack, on which I had inscribed several runes of omnidirectional kinetic dispersal. Luckily for any reader, this document does not contain such runes. This is because this document was conjured after the Godmodder discovered the irrelevance of the previous scroll, and gives, eventually, a quite informative description of the reasoning of the attack, to the extent that it is not implied by document 8598. For instance, it may not have been clear, but some minor changes had been made to non-vital portions of the maze in the previous animation due to my preperation of the attack being most durationed of many things, and in order to increase the attacks effectiveness. As a result, it would be accurate to state that I Prepared Soul-Rending Runes this Morning . Oh, and incendiary runes , whi-"
At this point, the scroll bursts into flames. Additionally, the soul-rending runes Spiritually explode violently, rending into the fresh wound in the Godmodders soul with vigour. But... this still doesn't explai-
"A Treatise on the Methodology, History, and Practice of the singular Godmodder Attack occurring within the post 8598 according to standardised location description, By JOEbob, and with a structure precluding harmful runes this time."
The Godmodder looks up to see a small box, which is emitting a recording of my speech. hopefully This one is shorter, he thinks- Or at least more to the point.
"This attack is destined to fail. Why is unclear, but it will not succeed on the initial posting. And, to be clear to future readers, my statement regarding the destiny of failure refers to post 8598, and not the action within which I will be embedding this report; that one I still suspect will succeed. Regardless, On inspection, it is somewhat probable that the failure was due to issues involving the formating of the glowing text within the standard editor, something I quite likely ought to have initially considered (Though it ought have been sufficient in that scenario as well, as the standard editor has a lighter-colored background that would allow for the reading of otherwise background-colored text. It is unclear as to why Precisely it failed, as mentioned.). There are, however, other considerations. For example, the Godmodder made no mention of the Tennis Ball, nor his reaction to the 'Pause' and 'FFWD' effects located within the post. Whilst he did threaten the beast, doing so requires Awareness of the beast; Awareness it is implausible for him to have possessed, as the Beast did not preform any actions of note prior to the initiation of the Pause, which would preclude negotiation due to the cessation of standard temporal flow. Whilst the Godmodder could have rendered himself immune to time shenanigans, this would have rendered him decidedly vulnerable to the Accelerated tennis ball, due to the scale of the FFWD effect which accelerated it. This left the Godmodder without a good success option, and ought have proved sufficient, but appears to have been ignored."
(At this point, the recording of JOE takes a deep breath, having not inhaled at any point in this... discussion?)
"Or, more accurately, it is probable that the Godmodder has used his multiple-times-demonstrated ability to Delay damage by pretending not to notice it- which always fails under scrutiny. There are other factors, however. Possibility 0 involves his declining to accept the validity of the dichotomy, and rendering himself immune to time shenanigans immediately After the tennis ball. There is no reason for him to do so from his own prespective, but very well. In that scenario, the 'Rocks' join in the fun, and while he would be able to keep away the beast in this scenario, he did not make any counter to the 'Rocks', which he would not be immune to in this instance due to their serving purely as Carriers for a strange form of pseudo-electric plusunfire. However, there is one Increasingly-Relevant outcome. One I included precisely in prediction of this variety of counter."
(At this point, there is another pause in the recording. Rather then for breath, it appears to be for effect- Though I probably also did breath in there.)
"Possibility 0(N^N), the name being irrelevant but the content decidedly the opposite. I shall summarise it here, but it would be best to simply re-read it, as I have explained it before. By his interaction with the beast, he gives implicit validity to the contents of the animation, which, for long and complicated reasons, contained a circle which implicitly represented, and was connected to, him on a metaphysical level. This has several effects, Such as his being imperfect at tennis, his consumption of four large tables of food, his being used as a glorified footstool by a criminal while being skewered by The Beast. Or his being squished into a quite unhealthy shape by a 'You are dead' sign. Or his sorta... weirdly contorting himself? while going around the maze. And several of these occurrences would clearly be unhealthy. And even after all of this, there's a few more things to consider..."
(there's another pause)
"For example, it was explicitly stated that Ziggy Fraud was somehow involved in the scenario of the Godmodder surviving everything else, though without ths' awojs gijthus' shtslhu lsdji' fdg' -"
As the Godmodder looks at the box in confusion, a vast, whirling portal into the underrealms appears, and from it arrives a tendrilled horror, screaming WHO DARES SUMMON ME, ABHOLOS, DEVOURER OF THE MISTS OF YORE. With so much on his plate, what with Abholos, the Godmodder is unable to deal with everything else. That, or he Tries to deal with everything else and gets devoured by Abholos- but if he tries to deal with the rest of the post, he'll probably fail and Still get eaten, so he's best off dealing with Abholos and letting himself take damage. (possibly including spiritual damage, such as the sort which might delay his reascedecension, but equally possibly not.)
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Ranger_Strider_ has granted Horse 1 underdog-protagonist power.
But what is a protagonist without a clattering of plot armor, A.K.A. luck?
3x: The Omega-12 operative drains the luck of all the other horses, and uses it to enhance the luck of Horse 1.
But what is a protagonist without a clattering of plot armor, A.K.A. luck?
3x: The Omega-12 operative drains the luck of all the other horses, and uses it to enhance the luck of Horse 1.
I thanked the Pure Cleric for her help. If I made it out alive, I'd find her after the fight.
But first.. that Combat Operandi. It would require all of John's Player Actions, right? Then I simply have to make him waste the Player actions!
He scoffs, but then finds himself in a plane of his own!
Dangit, did he somehow end up in a Personal Hell? He eyes the video Game setup suspiciously. However, he relaxes when he finds out it's not the one Karpinsky was cursed to play. It's a different one. About Horse racing, of all things.
The Godmodder scoffs, realizing with his honed intellect that he just had to win the game. So he picked up the controller and found himself...
As the weakest, slowest horse of the lot. Player 1. Typical. 5 other stronger, faster horses laid between John Smith's horse and victory.
Not even a difficult challenge, for the likes of the betrayer! So he manages to betray the other horses, by forming alliances, teamups, takedowns, and of course backstabbings over the course of 3 laps. Horse number 3 randomly glitches out to a random field. The other horses suffer from atrocious RNG while John got the best RNG possible, and with some excellent l33t player skills John Handily wins the Horse Race game!
When he returns to the field, he realizes in horror exactly what happened.
The horse Race game wasn't a video game. It was a live feed of the game being run by the leprechaun! It it critically betrayed and yells angrily at the Godmodder, cursing John and his ancestors with every leprechaun curse in the book!
Grumbling, John tries to salvage things by resuming his Combat Operandi charge... only to notice in horror he doesn't have all the Player Actions needed to cast it! It seems his Player Powers had kicked in to win the race! Now he'd have to wait another turn at best to perform the Combat Operandi!
And he couldn't even blame it on luck. John had succeeded in robbing himself through sheer skill.
I smile and play a short video clip to rub salt in the wound.
But first.. that Combat Operandi. It would require all of John's Player Actions, right? Then I simply have to make him waste the Player actions!
He scoffs, but then finds himself in a plane of his own!
Dangit, did he somehow end up in a Personal Hell? He eyes the video Game setup suspiciously. However, he relaxes when he finds out it's not the one Karpinsky was cursed to play. It's a different one. About Horse racing, of all things.
The Godmodder scoffs, realizing with his honed intellect that he just had to win the game. So he picked up the controller and found himself...
As the weakest, slowest horse of the lot. Player 1. Typical. 5 other stronger, faster horses laid between John Smith's horse and victory.
Not even a difficult challenge, for the likes of the betrayer! So he manages to betray the other horses, by forming alliances, teamups, takedowns, and of course backstabbings over the course of 3 laps. Horse number 3 randomly glitches out to a random field. The other horses suffer from atrocious RNG while John got the best RNG possible, and with some excellent l33t player skills John Handily wins the Horse Race game!
When he returns to the field, he realizes in horror exactly what happened.
The horse Race game wasn't a video game. It was a live feed of the game being run by the leprechaun! It it critically betrayed and yells angrily at the Godmodder, cursing John and his ancestors with every leprechaun curse in the book!
Grumbling, John tries to salvage things by resuming his Combat Operandi charge... only to notice in horror he doesn't have all the Player Actions needed to cast it! It seems his Player Powers had kicked in to win the race! Now he'd have to wait another turn at best to perform the Combat Operandi!
And he couldn't even blame it on luck. John had succeeded in robbing himself through sheer skill.
I smile and play a short video clip to rub salt in the wound.
Wow, I was quite fortunate. This character test proved challenging and would have ended me if it came earlier in this war. However, it hadn't been properly adapted to a recent development: the Godmodder's reveal. If all that was happening was the classic Godmodder battle, I likely wouldn't have had the necessary motivation to pass the rest.
Truly a dangerous character test.
So all the horses but the third one tripped? Foolish Horse 3, tripping is the best way to win the race!
As anyone knows, right at the beginning there's a Mario Kart speed booster hidden on the track. The only way to trigger it and get its boost is to trip and thus precisely hit the tiny portion of the speed booster open to the surface.
Every other horse clearly knows this and are aiming for this boost. Horse 3, on the other hand, screwed up and missed out on going after this boost. How unfortunate. (x2)
With the Godmodder distracted by all the attacks against him, I take the opportunity to hack all his streaming services (just because no one knows your name doesn't mean it's a secure password) and end his subscriptions. It doesn't really damage him but it'll add an additional distraction to help other Players get their attacks in. (x1)
I strengthen the narrative of the underdog winning
Give the first horse this regret, that he won't be able to ein this race
And shoot the 1st horse with a dying will bullet
Now he will do it with his DYING WILL
He's gonna win the race even if it's the last thing he does
I also use my last two action to buff Paradoxdragonpaci
And his healing
Give the first horse this regret, that he won't be able to ein this race
And shoot the 1st horse with a dying will bullet
Now he will do it with his DYING WILL
He's gonna win the race even if it's the last thing he does
I also use my last two action to buff Paradoxdragonpaci
And his healing
Action 1-3: Horse #3 turns to smell something on his left. He can't quite tell what it was so he concentrates. During his concentration, The horse suddenly trips on a sudden rock that has suddenly appeared. The rock didn't notice the horse there was it was trying to cross the track to get to the other side. It has to get to work otherwise it's gonna be late. After the horse tripped, someone accidentally dropped a needle that was supposed to be for a person that was going fast and the guy had butterfingers. The needle landed on the horse, and it was filled with a specific poison that made him go slower than before.
OY you silly leprechaun! You want gold? Well then, you will get gold! I say as I steal a bunch of the Leprechaun's gold coins, pour them down the muzzle of a cannon, and fire them at the Leprechaun like canister shot.
Action 1: I notice the Leprechaun is suffering from perfect luck, and use my Resolute Heart Powers to remove that status effect. There, that should make the Leprechaun feel much better.
Action 2: I flip a coin inside my mind. On Heads, the Leprechaun's head explodes. On Tails, the Leprechaun's intestines are pulled out of him and turned into a rope used to strangle him.
Obviously, the Leprechaun wants the coin to land on it's edge so that neither happens. But, the coin isn't a physical coin, it's a coin inside my mind, a place where I control the laws of reality. Plus, any attempt to manipulate what happens to my mind is a mental attack, the sort of action I can easily resist.
Action 3: I teleport behind the Godmodder, grab him, and start shaking him relentlessly, disrupting his actions.
Action 2: I flip a coin inside my mind. On Heads, the Leprechaun's head explodes. On Tails, the Leprechaun's intestines are pulled out of him and turned into a rope used to strangle him.
Obviously, the Leprechaun wants the coin to land on it's edge so that neither happens. But, the coin isn't a physical coin, it's a coin inside my mind, a place where I control the laws of reality. Plus, any attempt to manipulate what happens to my mind is a mental attack, the sort of action I can easily resist.
Action 3: I teleport behind the Godmodder, grab him, and start shaking him relentlessly, disrupting his actions.
The Finale - VIII
The Godmodder casts SILENCE on the Orks! They find their boomboxes have stopped playing! They make no noise, and are easily slaughtered by the millions!
As the last remnants of the Orks struggle onwards, you slip up and trip over a rock while trying to throw the moon, causing the moon to hit the ground, roll down a hill, and crash right into the Orks, killing the rest of them!
All healed by one injury level!
CRAP! The Godmodder throws out the NEGACHARGE before it can do any damage! -1 Godmodder HP!
The Third horse begins to drift... then locks into position, and moves faster than before! The locoweeds you gave it are of an incredibly rare breed, only .0000001% of all locoweeds, that boost perception and endurance!
Verraad: You think... I'll give in... to THIS...!?
Verraad: NO!
Verraad takes out a bottle of Godmodder-strength aspirin, and pops one. Instantly, he feels better!
You tear yourself out of the chair, taking 2 injury levels of damage in the process! Challenge exited!
Immediately, the NEW Horse 4, despite the burst of the locoweeds, trips and falls into a ditch! The NEW Horse 3 immediately begins running faster and faster, pulling ahead of the other horses!
1 damage to the Godmodder! Healing pulse!
However, the Godmodder's brain gets STIMULATED! He'll be able to use his STIMULATED brain to think of ways out of other attacks coming his way this turn!
The first horse begins moving forwards...
The Godmodder screams. He gouges his eyes. He gouges his ears.
Nothing is enough. The truth will not stop existing, no matter how hard you try to ignore it.
THE GODMODDER IS A BIG FAT STUPID LOSER!!! NEENER NEENER! LOL, LMAO, 0.0
2 damage to the Godmodder! He only has 1 HP, so this takes that away and hits his injury bar as well! Healing pulse!
OOC: Excellent post. The Godmodder's sister's backstory is now canon, I declare!
The Godmodder remembers: Its Daylight Savings Time! He moves his watch back an hour, thus delaying Blep's pain. Phew!
ParadoxDragonPaci's targets are healed up one additional injury level! Much better!
You now have one attack shield!
You heal yourself! And pope + General_Urist as well, they happened to be standing next to you when Good and Bad luck annihilated each other.
You hand out bottles of DETERMINATION to the most injured! With a swig, they feel rejuvenated, ready to keep fighting despite everything! You can't lose now! Three most injured Players healed by one Injury level!
Your attack is completely successful.
1 damage.
The Godmodder is now CRITICALLY WOUNDED! He's on the ropes!
(Healing pulse)
Horse 3 successfully eliminated from the race! Problem, it was the Horse 3 that was just renamed to Horse 4 a few actions ago. The NEW Horse 3 continues forwards unimpeded!
The Leprechaun does it all by pure luck. He just happened to be carrying a rock on him when he entered, and the rock just happened to fall out of his pocket at just the right time to trip on it. Same for the bed, and everything else too. No matter what inconsistencies there may be. ALL of it is explained by pure luck.
All horses except Horses 6 and 3, in the race to the bottom, sacrifice "being alive"! All horses except those two are now dead!
The Godmodder activates his STIMULATED BRAIN to think of a way out! He thinks of... pastries! He offers the Brainb leach a pastry, and it immediately jumps out of his brain, allowing the Godmodder to kill it!
After Abholos is dealt with handily, the Godmodder has taken a damage! Healing pulse!
Horse 1 is now supremely lucky! Immediately, many female horses crash through the sides of the arena to nuzzle up to Horse 1! Wait a minute... that wasn't order protagonist power... that was ISEKAI protagonist power! No!
As the Godmodder picks up the controller, he realizes that somebody else was playing the game before him! They're Horse 6, the strongest one, and the others, except for Horse 3, are already defeated! The game is easy! He's winning, winning, winning... *DING*! His chicken nuggies are ready! He throws his controller and leaves the game AFK, Horse 6 inches from the finish line, Horse 3 slowly catching up...
Horse 6 remembers all the boosters he hit. That was how he was able to get so far ahead of Horse 3 in such a short time! But Horse 3 is just about to pass him, and for some reason he can't control his own legs...
The Godmodder gets on the phone with Hulu, and starts arguing with the representative. Oh boy. This is going to be a while.
Horse 1, who is now dead, is SUPER BUFFED, and easily becomes capable of beating Horse 3! But he's dead.
With that buff, the extra healing power goes out to EVERYONE who is still left injured, healing them all fully!
Horse 3 trips, flying forward, and slamming into the back of Horse 6! This pushes Horse 6 forwards JUST ENOUGH to get him to cross the finish line first!
The Leprechaun collapses to the ground, and cries. So close. SO CLOSE!!! But NO! You... you dirty, dirty CHEATERS had to ruin all the fun of games of chance! How DARE you!
And with that, the Leprechaun perishes!
All Players gain the power of Infinileaf Clover, and the Godmodder loses the power!
The Leprechaun's dead body is looted, giving you BIG CASH. Way to add insult to injury.
You are freed, and go down three injury levels to Seriously Injured!
Unfortunately, the Resolute Heart can't cure death. Same for Action 2.
The Godmodder kicks you away, with surprising ferocity. You see he's winding up for a big attack... there's nothing to be done now...!
--------------
The Godmodder activates all 8 of his actions at once. He's smiling, laughing, gleeful, joyous, for it is finally, finally here!
Everything slows down, and Reality itself holds its breath. The Godmodder's most powerful attack. Verraad draws in all his power, all the Players rendered powerless in the face of the final send-off for Reality, the very last fireworks show.
And then, as the Godmodder pulls out a gun from Call of Duty, you're hit with a horrifying sense of Deja Vu...
COMBAT OPERANDI TIER 4: ULTIMATE! NOSCOPE! 360! HEADSHOT! 2! (aka - the attack that instantly kills you and there isn't anything you can do about it)
The Godmodder pulls out a box of special ammo. Eyowe, Strider626, and DanganMachin read the writing on the sides - it's "kill Players in one hit" ammo! They have a fear heart attack and are mortally wounded!
The Godmodder brings the ammo closer to his gun. As he does so... he winks. Winks the pure air of absolute superiority, that ParadoxDragonPaci, ThatRandomGuy, and Bill Nye get an ulcer from rage! They are mortally wounded!
The Godmodder begins loading his gun. As he does so, one of the bullets clatters to the ground. Feeling suddenly, absurdly generous, DragonOfHope, Alastair Dragovich, and Ranger_Strider all go to pick up the bullet! They all comically crack each other's skulls, making a sound like a coconut! They are mortally wounded!
The Players struggle to move, but they are rooted to the ground, unable to do anything but dance to the tune of the Godmodder's song... desperate, Crusher, Karpinsky, and JOEbob try to force themselves to move, but break their brains, will, and bodies in the process, twisting them into painful mockeries of their former selves! They are mortally wounded!
The Godmodder cocks his now loaded gun, and test aims a few times at ExoSkeletal, Captain.cat, and General_Urist. Sure enough, just pointing the gun in their general direction causes their limbs to start falling off! The three Players are mortally wounded!
As all of this is happening, Daskter and FlamingFlapjacks, still stuck in their challenges, suddenly find themselves forced out of them with the rest of the Players! In the process, their very soul is torn, a major rip crippling them! They are mortally wounded!
The Godmodder crouches, and leaps into the air, with enough force to send a shockwave rippling across the field! The shockwave catches pope, The_Two_Eternities, and Cephalos Jr. especially bad! They are mortally wounded!
Gnich, Tazz, and Torix look at each other. Almost everybody else has fallen. Its all on them. They nod, and take a step forward, just as the Godmodder fires his first shot - straight into the ground. Dust is scattered, and it blows right into the eyes of the three! They rub at their eyes, but the dust gets in their throat! Being tainted with the power of the Anti-Player bullet, they take massive damage from it! They are mortally wounded!
As the dust fills more and more of the field, and arc of the Godmodder's leap continues painfully slowly, Piono realizes something... this attack... is a callback! Its a callback to the Bank of Actions! Guys! He figured it ou- wait... everybody else already knew? Piono was the only one who... Piono is mortally wounded!
The Godmodder does a triple-twist flip, ending with him upside down, still aiming his gun forwards. The beauty of it causes Eternalstruggle, CaptainNZZZ, and The_Quiet_Watcher to cry so hard they take dehydration damage.
As everything comes into place, Winkins looks up from his paperwork. Finally, he's ready to- wait, crap, papercut! Winkins is mortally wounded!
GoldHero101 clutches onto his Fragment of Hope. The Godmodder slows down even more, and... freezes. His gun, the dust, the Players, everything. It all freezes. GoldHero101 realizes the Godmodder's plan. When he fires his weapon, it will ricochet off the individual atoms of dust, forming a pattern to perfectly efficiently place a headshot through every Player at once. There is no hope. GoldHero101's shard disintegrates, the lack of hope taking its toll on his health. GoldHero101 is mortally wounded.
Nothing moves. Nothing but the Godmodder, pressing the barrel of his gun against Scott But Its a Girl's temple. His finger almost squeezes the trigger. Merely being in the vicinity of the Anti-Player bullets robs Scott of his/her last ounces of strength. Scott But Its a Girl is mortally wounded.
The Godmodder whispers words into your ears, one final time. The Godmodder's voice is nearly silent, but everything is so still the Players can hear it perfectly.
The Godmodder: Players... this is the end of your long, long journey.
Verraad: Do you have any last words? Anything left to say? Anything left to do?
John Smith: You can't move. You can't do anything. You're trapped. You can struggle, vainly. Maybe if one or two or three of you attempted a Mortal Action, it'd work.
The Godmodder: It would only take a few sacrifices. A little more blood. One sacrifice to save you from stillness, two to heal you all to acceptable levels... maybe, maybe...
Verraad: Make your choice...
John Smith is smiling. The visage of his face fills you with hatred.
What will you do?
You can't do anything.
But what will you do?
You won't do anything.
You need to answer.
It's time to give up.
Remember what you've learned. Remember the things you've done.
Remember how I've always won.
----------
CURRENT PLAYER SHENANIGANS POWER: 130% + Yorehammer + Resolute Heart + Infinileaf Clover!
Players:
[AG]ExoSkeletal (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]DragonOfHope (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Daskter (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Eyowe (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Strider (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Gnich (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Crusher (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]ParadoxDragonPaci (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]DanganMachin (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Captain.cat (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]FlamingFlapjacks (D U C K)(Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Eternalstruggle (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]ThatRandomGuy (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Alastair Dragovich (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Piono (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]The Nonexistent Tazz (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[N+2]CaptainNZZZ (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]General_Urist (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]GoldHero101 (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Karpinsky (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]The Quiet Watcher (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]JOEbob (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Cephalos Jr. (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Bill Nye (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Ranger Strider (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Winkins (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]The_Two_Eternities (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Torix (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]Scott But Its a Girl(TwinBuilder + Victory by Ablation)(Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
[AG]pope (Mortally wounded, bleeding out in 3!)
-------------------
Verraad: 0/100,000,000 HP, The Perfect Shot in 0!
Critically Wounded! Restoring Full Unholy Divine Abilities in 3!
-------------------
Player Inventory:
Shadow Agitator (Vibrating!)
Godmodder Soul Orb
Last edited:
Its_a_cauldron_plot!
Always plotting
She/Her
Edit: frack my previous say. I start tossing out heals.
Mortal wounds? WACK! Being stuck on the ground? WACK! Being back on your feet? TIGHT AS HECK!
What all that's means is I try my best to get as many mortally wounded people back on their feet. Not a full heal but should be just enough where they won't bleed out.
Mortal wounds? WACK! Being stuck on the ground? WACK! Being back on your feet? TIGHT AS HECK!
What all that's means is I try my best to get as many mortally wounded people back on their feet. Not a full heal but should be just enough where they won't bleed out.
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Ranger_Strider_
The one who does lots of Striding
A mortal action is needed? SCREW IT! FOR THE CAUSE!!.
I draw every last drop of strength I have.... and push it into my comrades
fight.... WIN..... Remember.... me......
I draw every last drop of strength I have.... and push it into my comrades
fight.... WIN..... Remember.... me......
[x0] Being unable to move is a status effect. Resolute Heart description excerpt: All who hold it gain immunity to negative status conditions. We have that power; therefore we are immune to negative status effects. Immunity isn't healing, so it was never applied to start with.
I cough. then I think loudly: "First of all, everyone, the Shadow Agitator is vibra- oh, someone noticed before to you all. Well, uh, i noticed first? I just coudln't type this."
Then I cough again, and speak to the Godmodder.
"ech, Godmodder,seriously, this again? I admit, the humour on some of it is ok, but doing it twice means it got old. But, more then that. you made another mistake, again."
"Look, Godmodder, you're deranged. Most players are halfway decent, I'm supersensible. Id, eg- Wait, wrong script. sorry.hack"
"ahemAh, here it is. The Basis of Why The Godmodders Action Just Now Basically Definitely Wasn't Important, Abridged."
"The Godmodder cough hasn't failed an action due to his significant soul orb damage y- spit -yet, which has to happen to a significant action eventually. Therefore, there will be more actions by the Godmodder which are in some way significant,in the future. Therefore, the most recent action did not render him garun- atchoo him garunteed to win, as that would cough cough render such actions impossible."
(At this point, I fall over face first into the floor. cuz like, possibly-injured muscles. but I keep talking)
"I know this. It factors into every action. And, how did you harm me? welll..."
"desperate, Crusher, Karpinsky, and JOEbob try to force themselves to move, but break their brains, will, and bodies in the process, twisting them into painful mockeries of their former selves! They are mortally wounded!"
"Ha! Not One, not One! of those methods make a lick of sense. I'll take them from the top! Brains! Players. Don't. Have. Brains! I know this! It's countered my attempts several times! The spiritual constructs that Are players don't actually encode any information within the head unless the soul places its core within it- something any reasonable designer would remove- and if it's there, it's not like a brain at all!"
"Will! I'm Still talking! You Have Not Broken My Will! And you Can't, John Smith, Godmodder, Verraad- whichever name you least prefer. You can't break my will save by words. You can't find the right words without <Concept not translational: goodthink>. You can't get <concept not translational: Goodthink>, because you Aren't. So, you can't break my will save True Luck... and infinileaf clovers effects- any effects you have access to- Are False luck. Maybe if I believed a word you said, you could convince me to stop fighting- but not through breaking my will! Only through some sort of major concession which I would have to Believe you would follow through! Regardless my will would remain unbroken."
"Bodies! If I cannot be moved, Cannot move, the impetus and claim of this description, Then my body cannot Twist, or break, or bend! If my body did Twist, then that makes me free. and I would stop immediately- nearly completely unharmed!
Oh yeah, and I still have that dreamself."
"So There, Godmodder!"
<more to follow in another post for chronology!>
I cough. then I think loudly: "First of all, everyone, the Shadow Agitator is vibra- oh, someone noticed before to you all. Well, uh, i noticed first? I just coudln't type this."
Then I cough again, and speak to the Godmodder.
"ech, Godmodder,seriously, this again? I admit, the humour on some of it is ok, but doing it twice means it got old. But, more then that. you made another mistake, again."
"Look, Godmodder, you're deranged. Most players are halfway decent, I'm supersensible. Id, eg- Wait, wrong script. sorry.hack"
"ahemAh, here it is. The Basis of Why The Godmodders Action Just Now Basically Definitely Wasn't Important, Abridged."
"The Godmodder cough hasn't failed an action due to his significant soul orb damage y- spit -yet, which has to happen to a significant action eventually. Therefore, there will be more actions by the Godmodder which are in some way significant,in the future. Therefore, the most recent action did not render him garun- atchoo him garunteed to win, as that would cough cough render such actions impossible."
(At this point, I fall over face first into the floor. cuz like, possibly-injured muscles. but I keep talking)
"I know this. It factors into every action. And, how did you harm me? welll..."
"desperate, Crusher, Karpinsky, and JOEbob try to force themselves to move, but break their brains, will, and bodies in the process, twisting them into painful mockeries of their former selves! They are mortally wounded!"
"Ha! Not One, not One! of those methods make a lick of sense. I'll take them from the top! Brains! Players. Don't. Have. Brains! I know this! It's countered my attempts several times! The spiritual constructs that Are players don't actually encode any information within the head unless the soul places its core within it- something any reasonable designer would remove- and if it's there, it's not like a brain at all!"
"Will! I'm Still talking! You Have Not Broken My Will! And you Can't, John Smith, Godmodder, Verraad- whichever name you least prefer. You can't break my will save by words. You can't find the right words without <Concept not translational: goodthink>. You can't get <concept not translational: Goodthink>, because you Aren't. So, you can't break my will save True Luck... and infinileaf clovers effects- any effects you have access to- Are False luck. Maybe if I believed a word you said, you could convince me to stop fighting- but not through breaking my will! Only through some sort of major concession which I would have to Believe you would follow through! Regardless my will would remain unbroken."
"Bodies! If I cannot be moved, Cannot move, the impetus and claim of this description, Then my body cannot Twist, or break, or bend! If my body did Twist, then that makes me free. and I would stop immediately- nearly completely unharmed!
Oh yeah, and I still have that dreamself."
"So There, Godmodder!"
<more to follow in another post for chronology!>
Last edited:
The quiet watcher
Verified Old One
The quiet watcher begins laughing at the Godmodder's words, not even bothering to try and handle the dehydration he was supposed to be suffering through. Seriously, the same action as the last time, only with slightly different flavor text on the actual injuries? Really? It was pathetic that the Godmodder thought that he could actually get that to work again, since all players know better than to repeat their previous actions. Sure, it had been a while since the last time he'd done something like this, but even he should have realized how stupid this move was. The Curse of Repetition was a thing, after all, and the Godmodder just used his player actions to carry out his repeated attack. That wasn't even getting into the fact that being mortally wounded was nothing more than a status effect, something that they were fully immune from thanks to the Resolute Heart's power. The Godmodder was clearly panicking if he was putting his hope in such a foolish action, and the sheer absurdity of it was too amusing for him to not laugh.
...........
...................
Reality shifts around me. I start to feel heavy. I can barely breathe. I can start to feel myself slipping away. I cough up a combination of blood and oil.
JUSTICE A.I. HAS SHUTDOWN!
I start to wonder if there will be an afterlife for someone like me.
PERSEVERANCE A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I was created for a specific purpose, to Defeat the Godmodder.
KINDNESS A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
And yet.... he still stands... and I am falling.
BRAVERY A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I have failed to Defeat the Godmodder.
PATIENCE A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I just hope that whoever is left, they are the ones who can take him down.
INTEGRITY A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I'm sorry Shadrix.... I failed.... you.....
................
Kid?
I just want to say.... it was a pleasure to be part of you...
Back at Shadrix's Ship...
nononononono! Bill! This is not going to plan at all!
sir? What should we do?
........
Shadrix looks over at the battlefield and sees the Godmodder smirking away. He looks at Bill and back at the Godmodder.
Shadrix then looks at the plans for Bill Nye. And he smirks.
Kirby, begin the teleportation sequence. I got an idea.
I look over at Alastair. He does have a point. We still have the powers that we gain from the fight. I look over, and smile.
Free Action: I use my vote to help use the Resolute Heart powers.
...................
Reality shifts around me. I start to feel heavy. I can barely breathe. I can start to feel myself slipping away. I cough up a combination of blood and oil.
JUSTICE A.I. HAS SHUTDOWN!
I start to wonder if there will be an afterlife for someone like me.
PERSEVERANCE A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I was created for a specific purpose, to Defeat the Godmodder.
KINDNESS A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
And yet.... he still stands... and I am falling.
BRAVERY A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I have failed to Defeat the Godmodder.
PATIENCE A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I just hope that whoever is left, they are the ones who can take him down.
INTEGRITY A.I HAS SHUTDOWN!
I'm sorry Shadrix.... I failed.... you.....
................
Kid?
I just want to say.... it was a pleasure to be part of you...
Back at Shadrix's Ship...
nononononono! Bill! This is not going to plan at all!
sir? What should we do?
........
Shadrix looks over at the battlefield and sees the Godmodder smirking away. He looks at Bill and back at the Godmodder.
Shadrix then looks at the plans for Bill Nye. And he smirks.
Kirby, begin the teleportation sequence. I got an idea.
I look over at Alastair. He does have a point. We still have the powers that we gain from the fight. I look over, and smile.
Free Action: I use my vote to help use the Resolute Heart powers.
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Its_a_cauldron_plot! There's only one thing you can really do right now. Heal someone. Anyone. Yes, you might get a healing pulse if you hit the Godmodder, but it's unlikely to work.
Wait. He's done a random healing. That means 3 random people get healed. Except, with the Infinileaf's power, that heal applies to the 3 people who most need healing. Most likely, this applies to people who would otherwise sacrifice themselves weakly.
Wait a minute, how does not being able to move mean anything? The whole point of psychic powers is that you don't need to move to use them!
We're in a state where any usage of powers would result in our collective deaths. And our efforts to find a means of resurrection have failed.
But yet, for the first time in this entier battle, we have the power of the Infinileaf Clover. And, with that power, victory is all but assured.
How so?
Infinite luck precognition. If we take a random action, it will be the action that is most effective in the current situation.
Problem: We can't just declare that sort of thing without a source of randomness to utilize.
Wait. I flipped a coin last round to try to beat the Leprechaun, but I did it after the leprechaun was already dead and we gained the infinileaf powers. There are three possibilities, heads, tails, or edge. Four if you count the possibility of something weird happening like the coin spontaneously exploding or falling down a grate (since there is a chance that after I thought this action wasn't going to do anything, I just guttered the coin) and being unreadable. As the coin was flipped after we gained infinileaf power, and the result hasn't been checked-
If you define an action plan on each of the three possibilities, the coin's result will be the result corresponding to the most effective action (or lack of action) to take, based on the new utility of the action.
We do one of the following, based on the result of the coin:
Wait. He's done a random healing. That means 3 random people get healed. Except, with the Infinileaf's power, that heal applies to the 3 people who most need healing. Most likely, this applies to people who would otherwise sacrifice themselves weakly.
Wait a minute, how does not being able to move mean anything? The whole point of psychic powers is that you don't need to move to use them!
We're in a state where any usage of powers would result in our collective deaths. And our efforts to find a means of resurrection have failed.
But yet, for the first time in this entier battle, we have the power of the Infinileaf Clover. And, with that power, victory is all but assured.
How so?
Infinite luck precognition. If we take a random action, it will be the action that is most effective in the current situation.
Problem: We can't just declare that sort of thing without a source of randomness to utilize.
Wait. I flipped a coin last round to try to beat the Leprechaun, but I did it after the leprechaun was already dead and we gained the infinileaf powers. There are three possibilities, heads, tails, or edge. Four if you count the possibility of something weird happening like the coin spontaneously exploding or falling down a grate (since there is a chance that after I thought this action wasn't going to do anything, I just guttered the coin) and being unreadable. As the coin was flipped after we gained infinileaf power, and the result hasn't been checked-
If you define an action plan on each of the three possibilities, the coin's result will be the result corresponding to the most effective action (or lack of action) to take, based on the new utility of the action.
We do one of the following, based on the result of the coin:
I launch an attack on the Godmodder combining all of our Legendary Item powers. I blind-fire an Obliteration Nova, targeting a random region of space in the universe. The Obliteration Nova strikes instantly, and is empowered by Yorehammer to bypass any defenses of any organisms in the blast radius to deliver a lethal hit. With the infinileaf clover, this should target the random region of space that the Godmodder is currently in, no matter how he attempts to evade or avoid detection or use decoys.
I heal as many random allies as I can, getting them back up from Mortally Wounded. I also empower them with a massive surge of energy that supercharges their next action. With the Infinileaf Clover, these random healings and buffings target the allies that most need it.
I do nothing, and warn everyone else to not take any Mortal Actions this round because we have perfect luck and that luck told us not to act. Hopefully they believe that.
The Infinileaf Clover power grants infinite luck, meaning that the coin flip will turn to the result that corresponds to the most beneficial action to take.
If I am taking a Mortal Action and will die:
If I am not taking a Mortal Action, or the event with the Shadow Agitator will result in bringing everyone back:
If I am taking a Mortal Action and will die:
- The direct attack option is potent, with the benefit of heavily damaging the Godmodder and healing every player one health state from the Healing Pulse. However, it would still be a sacrifice play for me, and it would be unlikely to work.
- The healing action would bring several people back up and potentially give them a big power boost. With the randomness, the power boost could be targeted to the person that needs it the most at the time. However, it's still a sacrifice play.
- The warning should not be a mortal action (as talking is always a free action), and it will hopefully prevent others from making a foolish mortal action. If every mortal action would be a senseless sacrifice, this is the option that is most likely to be chosen.
If I am not taking a Mortal Action, or the event with the Shadow Agitator will result in bringing everyone back:
- The direct attack is now a much more valid option, as long as it is capable of inflicting damage. If it will deal damage, it is the most valuable action and will thus win the coin toss.
- The healing is still an effective action. Not as good as a healing pulse, but if the Godmodder attack would fail, this is the best bet.
- The warning is unlikely to be needed, but it's an option if something weird happens and people still need to be warned not to kill themselves.
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