I suddenly activate Cipher's Call, the triangular mark glowing with flickering blue flames occasionally. I proceed to watch as the triangle shows continuously vacillating images of the cosmos, from universe to universe, star to star, and supernova to supernova, and far beyond. Slowly, the very laws of reality seem to phase in and out of existence as the vision of the Triangle reaches ever further out into the infinity of existence, reft with many an anomaly. Time and space continually shift forwards at increasingly drastic rates as I adjust the triangle's sight, until I am peering billions of loä into the future, sight passing across all. As this has all been occurring, increasingly greater amounts of indigo-colored flames pour forth from the marking, spilling onto the floor. Immediately, the flames levitate into the air, forming intrinsically bound balls of blue fire, radiating the essence of the mind and of the dreamscape. With a thought, the flames all meld together into a singular indigo inferno of pure mental power, twisting and manipulating itself of its own accord, strange shapes seeming to form at the epicenter of the mental blaze. I proceed to enter the mindscape of the nearest allied player with the energies of these flames, appearing within a ring of flames. Immediately, I begin channeling the Mind within this mental landscape, my research over places of this sort granting me some sort of power boost in this regard. Now, my immediate reaction would ordinarily be to drain all memories of value from the place, but I'd rather not. That is not my assignment at the current moment. I snap my fingers, and an inconceivably large tank of Warded Glass appears directly before me, filled to the brim with pure Sensus essentia. I proceed to begin getting rid of the wards coating the glass, and the actual physical strength of its base components with the nigh-unlimited possibilities of the mindscape, before shattering the weakened glass. Upon exposure to air, the essentia immediately evaporates, leaving a large amount of gaseous Sensus at the top of the tank. With a thought, the remnants of this tank vaporize themselves. Sensus pours everywhere, energizing the mind of the person I entered with the enriching of the senses, permitting for faster actions and quicker movements for about an enquier, or perhaps an action alone. Regardless, I leave the mindscape in question, waking up. The indigo flames die down, and I watch as the person whose mind I affected utilizes the effect they have been given.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
VUM, ME QBIXX PIYE IV AVPERWAQQAUV, UD QURPQ;
CU! RENEX AV PBE WUUVXACBP OVFER PBE GUORPQ.
~~~
Kar nfnuvvh qoyekc-wmyk nhrvrgwkcs; kie whiznuw; klh zsiek nmor pxgpfhh kce psl wkuh ik cfyu xptzgvrfk.
U2: It wazn't there. Wrecked. But I found the potion in a pocket dimenzion, along with many other potionz, a cheztplate, and a weird knife. I hope that it waz the right plaze. It felt zomehow.. recurzive, az if it waz inzide another pocket dimenzion. But who would do zuch a zilly thing??
Biumbra hands me the Potion of Aquaphobia.
V: Excellent. The mech is ready. But first, I'll see what I can do about the Alchemiter.
Whorp!
I examine the Alchemiter for any physical signs of the Curse. I then check if various components such as the Duplicator, Loom, Renamer or Potion Mixer still work.
I then look up towards the sky, where the Eclipse is meancingly descending onto Godcraft. I raise Shooting Star, concentrating my power at the Eclipse with the intent of slowing it down.
Indigo Psiichip 5/6
I had so many incomplete alchemy plans... It burns...
Follow-up attack: One last Forge's Light Operandi! HEADSHOTx0!
...Oh who am I kidding. That won't do anything. But what about... THIS?
*nothing happens*
Or maybe... THIS!
*nothing happens*
...Hah! That was all just a decoy... when in reality, I can do... THIS!!!
*I wait a few seconds and then throw a rock at the mech*
The godmodder laughs at his former master's puny attempt to attack him. But it distracts the mech's defenses, hopefully opening the way for some creative attacks to succeed...
>As Engie's planet moves, a fleet of Evacuation-Class Ships sweeps by each impacted planet and evacuates the populations. They are then deposited on a planet that is exactly like theirs but that doesn't have a population. Exactly, down to the most minor details. Quantum shenanigans.
A>Engie, really? That was not necessary, I can provide you with uninhabited planets to smash people with.
"Oh well, no harm no foul...Well, some fowl."
"Heh."
==Somewhere in the distance==
A planetary city detects a terrible, and terribly discriminatory pun. Thankfully, it misidentifies the speaker.
==Meanwhile, in the Moon debris==
A>Build, Split, if the Doom Bullets hit alone, would that cause a problem for the planet?
A>If not, I can wormhole them out and free up some energy.
N>"If we do it one chunk at a time, I bet we COULD just use the bits as projectile weapons..."
N>I launch a wormhole over the smallest Moon chunk and a single Doom Bullet, launching them into the Incarnate's eye.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Weird Things Mods Say When Booting
[Client thread/INFO] [TConstruct]: Natura, what are we going to do tomorrow night?
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
[Client thread/INFO] [inpure|core]: Beating Minecraft's resource loading system with a shovel. Please stand by...
[Client thread/INFO] [MagicBees]: Replacing stupid-block with 'Here, have some delicious textures' ItemBlock. This is 100% normal.
Lothyra: "Hmm. I'll use this for a "Reason You Suck Speech" later on.
Zoidberg overheals more players that aren't already overhealed. Leela fires an antimatter torpedo from the Planet Express Ship 3.0 at a large meteorite, while Fry blasts smaller ones with the Planet Express Ship 3.0's turret. Lothyra then realizes something.
Lothyra:: "HEY TWIN! YOU KNOW THAT IF WORST COMES TO WORST AND WE'RE ABOUT TO GET A GAME OVER, YOU DO HAVE THE DEUDLY MAGNUM!"
I begin to channel the energy of the nearest Artifact, evidently seeking to expedite whatever processes might occur in the course of my actions. My influence stretches beyond the entirety of the universe in an attempt to locate a singular Artifact. It is not entirely certain whether or not my difficultly arises from the lack of their existence in Universe C, or the fact that they have simply all been devoured by the force of Brine. As a matter of fact, my influence stretches far beyond several universes before I directly locate an Artifact within a universe that seems both familiar and long lost to time. Hah. Now, unless I am mistaken, this sort of distance would likely indicate a Gray Obelisk of some sort. Interesting. I utilize the Obelisk as a direct link to its position as a sort of source of sorcerous potency in reality, primarily draining residual energy, yet by FAR distanced from anything you could refer to as thaumic, or even mildly Minecraftian. I allow the sorcery to flow through my body, sensing the madness and corruption of the magics themselves burning through my form. Still, I allow the energies to surge about within the vortices of my mind. An overbearing force begins to project itself from my body as I channel the energy, which is evidently overwhelming me. Whatever I'm attempting to channel is overtly tearing away at my brain, and slowly disabling other bodily functions. Frantically, I begin to disable my link to the Gray Obelisk in question. It appears to deny my metaphorical request, overriding any and all attempts to flee from the energies. As such, I resort to merely overloading the link. I attempt to flood the bond with wave upon wave of psioneuronic activity, bearing little to no positive results. Regardless, I continue to bombard this sympathetic bond with progressively larger amounts of psioneuronic waves internally, blood pounding in my ears. After minutes of struggling, I feel a piercingly sharp pain in the back of my brain, and the link is severed, and the remaining waves of sorcery devastate my body from within, shuddering about with enough power to permanently induce horrific brain trauma. As the last drops of energy enter the surging maelstrom of my body's energy from their travel across the link instants before it was shattered, I begin to release this power startlingly swiftly and mildly excessively. I feel as if I were bleeding profusely from my every orifice. However, nothing visibly occurs. That is not a good indicator of whether or not something is actually transpiring. The nearest player suddenly feels slightly cooler as a completely undetectable barrier of some force surrounds them, separating them from the apocalypse, however ineffectually. The stabbing pains in my head slowly subside, giving way to the Voices, and the occasional auditory hallucinations once more, the former of which continue to pound at my head incessantly with their dark promises and ceaseless screaming and whispering, arguably causing more pain than the actual stabbing pain that was present mere moments ago.
As the pounding pain gradually returns to my brain, I pull out a variety of oracles. The Transparent Magic Cueball, the Onyx Visink Magic 8-Ball, and several ancient divination pots, before asking them all the same question.
How many Ancestors remain alive and active in this war?
Afterwards, I utilize both the Illumination and Cipher's Call to view one person in particular. Show me the Operator, Gemini. And, for that matter, I use the temporal features of the Illumination to figure out if he's been in proximity with the First Block recently, searching from the beginning of March onwards. Scratch's machine supposedly killed Gemini. Quite frankly, I think it was a fate worse than death. I think he became a certain orchid being, restricted until he was released into a viable construct, in this case GodCraft's First Block, through the Tower.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
VUM, ME QBIXX PIYE IV AVPERWAQQAUV, UD QURPQ;
CU! RENEX AV PBE WUUVXACBP OVFER PBE GUORPQ.
~~~
Kar nfnuvvh qoyekc-wmyk nhrvrgwkcs; kie whiznuw; klh zsiek nmor pxgpfhh kce psl wkuh ik cfyu xptzgvrfk.
Partial Inventory: Potion of Critmist II x33, Potion of Vis x27, Potion of Nectar x3, Potion of Crimson x2, Potion of Moonlight x2, Potion of Fortune x2, Potion of Fear x2, Potion of Hellsun x2,
Wilson's Shop: $342
Battlefield: I give Build and Split each a copy of the Ultrafield, which happen to have similar logos on them.
+2 to Wilson
Leftovers AND Focus Sash AND Life Orb AND Charm AND Azure Essence 9/11
Erelye Doll AND Protection Charm AND Azure Essence 9/11
Map of the Multiverse AND Twitch Logo AND Tablet AND Azure Essence 4/11
A large amount of Miniature Suns are being created and pushed into what might be the largest Miniature-Sun powered device yet.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Weird Things Mods Say When Booting
[Client thread/INFO] [TConstruct]: Natura, what are we going to do tomorrow night?
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
[Client thread/INFO] [inpure|core]: Beating Minecraft's resource loading system with a shovel. Please stand by...
[Client thread/INFO] [MagicBees]: Replacing stupid-block with 'Here, have some delicious textures' ItemBlock. This is 100% normal.
I raise the Rod of Phyrexia, lobbing a blast of searing black flame at The Incarnate. If it connects, I immediately attempt to send a blast of tech-destroying hexing magic through the oil's formed link.
@talist: The fourth wall thing is fine, the problem is that you and erelye are trying to argue OOC problems in in-character monologues. Sort of bad form.))
Strategy: This round, we won't be able to touch it. Just set up defenses so that its first attack doesn't completely wipe us out. We can't do anything until the MacGuffin or reinforcements show up.
Eric, Sanford and Deimos scramble to try and get the TARDIS to lift off, but just before they can leave, the godmodder gets back and holds the TARDIS down. A quick shot of Universe B is visible on one of the screens, and then the lock-on is lost. Then Wilson screams. Eric immediately rushes over to him, Wilson! Are you okay? Sanford and Hank continue trying to get the TARDIS off the ground.
((OOC of character taking that potion of Scratch II to justify TARDIS antics))
The TARDIS's shielding pulses, a wave of temporal energy flowing out. Normally, in the sink of all the chaos going on, this would do nothing, but the TARDIS survived being a center for paradox magic, so there's that.
The wave of temporal warp protects the players and various and sundry anyone from incoming attacks this round.
And suddenly...
A small space dinghy, put together out of various different parts, duct tape and pure, unadulterated unbelievably stupidly good luck (the last is assumed, as it is not only still in one piece, but working just fine) comes along, just overhead.
Inside it is Old Man Elderly.
It is said that he was born an old man, and as he grew up, only became more and more crotchety and crazy. His parents knew right from the beginning what to call him. Old Man is no title, and Elderly is no nickname. His initials, are in fact, OME. Why is this not some clever acronym, because sonny, back in his day, acronyms hadn't been invented yet.
He is the oldest man in the universe, even if age wise he's still only 25.
He's decided to use his fisherman backstory, because, just like the eldest of old men, he can't remember who he used to be. So he just decides to choose which one seems most likely on any given day.
He pulls up his fishing rod, and hooks his bait. It is a cardboard circle, fingerpainted into a close approximation of the disc of mojang. Old Man Elderly is going godmodder fishing.
The 'disc' slowly descends into the godmodder's view, and completely without thinking, the godmodder reaches for the disc, The Incarnate mimicking the motion, and Old Man Elderly begins pulling.
Guess what happens?
If you said Old Man Elderly reels him in, you've been too heavily indoctrinated in the realms of irony, there's no way an Old Man (even a 25 year old Old Man) could lift that thing.
The godmodder feels a slight tug on the string, and gives a great yank, trying to pull down whoever is trying to bait him.
The string breaks, but not before the poorly-assembled space dinghy's engines do.
The next thing the godmodder realizes is that a makeshift space dinghy has just smashed into the head of The Incarnate.
My drone suddenly wanders away for a little bit, then comes back with an Infi-Nut mounted on a minecart. I then give the Infi-Nut a shot of Plant Food, generating a tall, durable energy barrier, angled to take the brunt of any attacks launched by the INCARNATE against us.
"Okay, hopefully that thing holds for a while. I've seen these take Gargantaur hits fairly well, so it should count for something."
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Join Date:
2/23/2014
Posts:
275
Location:
The Void
Minecraft:
Upsilon
Member Details
Post 1
(GREEN)It's happening! The end times!(END GREEN)
(BROWN)Well, it's time to set up some fortifications at least...(END BROWN) Gerbil gets in a wheel and starts spinning. A panel in the walls turns over, revealing an instantly pressed red button. Burnt nuclear engines are moved out from the back of the house. A panel is extended from above the sink, stating the current location. The Dimensional Hole wall returns to normality, and a giant ring starts surrounding the house. The engines start firing as the ring fills up with a certain form of matter. It starts translating in space...
Far away, a copper board starts dropping into a presumed Black Hole... Before it falls in, an error in floating-point arithmetic causes the copper board to be teleported right next to the moon shards, and accelerate. It hits every moon shard, attempting to put them into orbit. The copper board starts falling into the atmosphere with it's reduced speed.
Let's get this out of the way before I go on to do my last, and probably largest, RP post on DTG2. Mostly just sequal hooks. Or prequal hooks. Who knows when they'll play out?
In any case. Being that this is the end of the world...Well, hopefully that Gutter Barrier holds out, even if only for a singular attack.
Now. To hold the line.
I pull out the Excalibleep and fire it on the ground. I doubt this will last for even a second given these circumstances, but the wall of ice that I expect still forms, shielding various AG entities. It's as big as I could get it. It reaches to the sky, almost appearing to attempt to stand against it, an impossible feat. It's an impossible feat in general, really, but we must fight. The impossible must become possible. We must change it's unflexing, undying, unyielding power, and triumph over it. Meanwhile, I toss a standard Ubercharge at Build with the Sixth Degree, hoping to shield him from harm and make sure the Eclipse is honestly stalled. We need this backup to arrive, whatever it is...U2, though...What could Twin be planning?
...
Golden Freddy, through a convenient viewport in the TARDIS (miraculously functioning, if not unscathed), just watches the carnage unfold in front of him. He could not place words to it. He couldn't even compare it to the Squid Ink Incident at this point. This was several orders of magnitudes higher than the Squid Ink Incident at this point.
"WELL. CLEARLY THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE TERRIBLY SURVIVABLE FOR THE REST OF US. BUT FIRST. A SPEECH. I HAD ONE, BUT THEN OUR NEW-FAVORITE SLAVE-SLASH-CHAMPION-SLASH-[REDACTED] TO BRINE CAME BACK, SO I CHANGED IT. AND YES. THAT IS THE NAME OF THE DRAGON. LET US NOT REPEAT IT, FIFTH WALL SHENANIGANS. NOW, FOR THE SPEECH."
Golden Freddy usually does not do the dramatic except when killing people he really hates, but suddenly, regardless of the strength of wards, the power of all present, or anything else that could even remotely intervene, even that of the most powerful forces of existence working together to collectively block it (granted, the last of these was not actually happening), the minds of all pertinent are filled with the face of Golden Freddy, merely staring. Not harming. His mental broadcast is to all of the Descendants still fighting, as well as their closer allies, only helped with the gentlest touch by the Narrative. His time is not unlimited, but it is enough to deliver a short speech before his inevitable departure with that of the TARDIS.
"ERIC. BLUE. ERELYE. ENGIE. WILSON. TAZZ. IRE. TALIST. PROOF. SERPENT. KAYNE. CRUSHER. PIT. MODPACK. SLINGSHOT. MANIAC. NET. LOTHRYA. V. U. NINJATWIST. TEHPIC. SPHEE. GENERATOR. TT2K. AMP. ZAND. XCANO. OMGLOLS. CRYSTAL. POKEFAN. SPLIT. BUILD. NOTCH, JEB, DINNERBONE, THE REST OF MOJANG, AND ANY OTHER DESCENDANTS I MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN, AS WELL AS ALL OTHERS STILL LIVING AND STILL FIGHTING AGAINST THE GODMODDER, THE [REDACTED]LORD."
"I COMMAND OF THEE THE ONE THING THAT WILL ENSURE YOUR SURVIVAL. I COMMAND OF THEE THE GOAL THAT NO ENTITY NOR ENTITIES IN EXISTENCE, HOWEVER POWERFUL, HAVE EVER ACHIEVED, EVEN IN THEORETICAL UNISON WITH ONE ANOTHER, INCLUDING THE RED DRAGON, INCLUDING THE SECRET OF THE VOID, INCLUDING YOG-SOTHOTH, INCLUDING THE HAND OF TRUTH, INCLUDING SIPS_, INCLUDING DREAM OF THE ENDLESS, INCLUDING CHUCK NORRIS, INCLUDING THE NARRATIVE, INCLUDING OTHERS THAT I WILL NOT CARE TO NAME, AND MOST OF ALL, OH MOST DEFINITELY INCLUDING THE GODMODDER. I COMMAND OF THEE WHAT HAS, FOR THE LONGEST TIME, BEEN IMPOSSIBLE FOR ALL, AND I COMMAND THEE TO GO BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE AND MAKE IT THE NEW REALITY."
"I COMMAND THEE."
"GIT."
The vision's Golden Freddy materializes the sweetest pair of shades ever known to anything in existence.
"GUD."
"NOW. ENGAGE THE GODMODDER MOTHER[REDACTED]S."
Golden Freddy vanishes from the minds, and in the TARDIS, the physical location as well. As usual, his real position is impossible to scry except through literal, physical surveillance cameras, and the TARDIS does not seem to be in the mood to spawn one to spot him for whatever reason.
Tazz, meanwhile, contemplates the scenario. It's all too dangerous, terrifying and most of all new, and simultaneously all too uncomfortably familiar, similar, and wrong.
It took a majority of existence and a majority of the most powerful forces it had within its boundaries, as well as a few beyond it, to leverage it's continuation the last time something of even remotely comparable scale happened. Now, the Narrative and a small group of Descendants must now, in unison, annihilate a threat to existence, a considerably smaller force than previous. No control. Something was going to end here, it was either the Godmodder or the Descendants, and what ended thereafter would be decided by this fight against the Incarnate. (What is it with supervillains and the like and freaking humonguous Meches? And what is with the Godmodder and his increasingly awesome arms? Tazz hid a slight jealousy for the Godmodder's increasingly awesome left arms. He called dibs on one.)
Golden Freddy was just one of the new and interesting companions he had with him when he first did this, during the Squid Ink Incident. There were others. Squidward. Ellis. Ardigus. Nostro. Zill Yggdravoxel. All aboard that TARDIS, if what Golden Freddy had told him before was true, except possibly Zill. In the last scenario, they did their part, along with others. Many others. Many millions of times mightier than Tazz ever thought he could be. The might of beings great and small in an unseen unison, beating back a threat that seemed impossible to even contain at that point, much less actually kill.
Existence is now asking for the same feat, again, on hardcore mode.
Not the Narrative. The narrative is being asked of it too. None others could hope to approach, but the Narrative had the unique benefit of true Omnipresence, and thus, was already there. Last time, they who fought the incident had the benefit of making the first move when the confusion died down, and they, a rushed and temporary coalition of many, of the weak, of the strong, of all stripes, fought in tandem, with a game plan, a course of action, the first move on their side. Here? Thirty-Three Descendants, unable to properly prepare except to anticipate the end, along with the Narrative, hopelessly working through every last facet it possibly could to help stand a chance, a chance that was slowly, but surely dying right in front of it. No-one else. The Red Dragon was already freed, loose, rampaging without restraint, and this does not even discount the Godmodder and his Incarnate. He did not currently have weaknesses. He had tiny gaps in an otherwise all-encompassing immunity to everything.
...
He awoke a power, a long time ago. Something. He couldn't describe it properly. He had a hard time figuring it out. It was a very slow awakening, though, but it was working.
He grasped the fringes of it during his second-to-last encounter with Pane, five years ago. A single swipe from the ether kept the Bard of Life alive, but from what did this phantom blade come from? And why did it not aid him in fighting back and ending that monster before he got away?
He didn't fully realize it, but came close, during the Squid Ink Incident. Another blade would fall to save his life, again and again, even when the, err, 'bad guy' had him in his grasp, or unrelated others that were nevertheless dangerous. His friends kind of did as well. Once or twice, something defended them, despite the complete lack of aid, nor reasonable explanation behind it. Golden Freddy seemed to have a grasp better than anyone else did, for some reason.
He never managed to use it, but slowly gained some level of intrinsic, coincidental understanding during the Godmodding war, or the parts he participated in-now, however, he started to kind of understand it. Even his very first moves highlighted it. Murphy's law was basically his nemesis initially, it was an unbearable obstacle and had to be removed, and he made sure of it. Moving ahead a bit, Tazz wasn't aware of the Sucker when he licked it, but it brought things to light. He was more mentally sated fighting Piono than, say, helping everyone solve their 'problems'. In hindsight, not EVERYONE was converted. It was easy to find who wasn't, or even slip around given some determined action. That implied something about him that he didn't want to admit. He was terrified of the sheer implications, but he loved carnage. His purpose was to delve headfirst into a problem and solve it-but not in a peaceful way. His kind of problem to solve was the kind that looked...Impossible. Antagonistic. In his way. In hindsight, Pane killing him made him sad not because he was so frustrated at his inability to be found, and the fact that Pane had effectively proven he was not to be caught easily-and probably got away in the TARDIS as well, so hidden not even the thing itself could find it, an invisible virus effectively-but that Pane proved to be a next-to-impossible obstacle. Scarily, it wasn't that it got in the way of peace, an eternal blockade. It was the implication that Tazz couldn't solve it, that probably hurt the most. But then, he helped Kill Piono, and went on to kill worse, including Fear, the Disc of Mojang, and the Bleak. Every last time it was cathartic, seeing those things fall to him, a scary kind of catharsis.
For one: Tazz belived that Pane was initially his deal. His friends were not strong enough, even Zill was put off-kilter by the powers he possessed. But this guy-the Godmodder, Richard, by proxy-proved that Pane was invincible alone. But Richard was not invincible. Nor was Pane. He needed friends, or allies at least, and once again these guys-or other guys-might prove the ticket. But. That was just one part of it.
The other was, Tazz, really deep down, loved to hurt others.
Not just any others, though! Obstacles. People who hated him, or got in the way. Himself, even, to a degree, but Tazz usually didn't put himself down for much, or often. But he wished-quite literally-physical, mental and spiritual harm, of a lasting sort, upon any who would honest-to-goodness oppose him.
He felt like he understood his actual class for the very first time-or came close. What he figured out about himself wasn't exactly the kind of mindset such a passive class as a Bard of Life, but in this case, his obstacle, or what he assumed it to be, was a powerset that didn't prove useful at first glance. He admitted, he never got the 100% hang of it even after getting the Tiger. But the real obstacle was the ability to fight through others, be a hand, be the lynchpin. He didn't like that, at all. He didn't like friends being put in harms way, but, equally true (if not more so), he didn't like others solving his problems for him. Except, sometimes that's exactly what has to be done.
Friends, obstacles, done. Check.
...He felt like a piece was missing, though. Like. Something was in the way, still. But what? He felt like there were two opposing ideals in play here. He could not really see how this would miraculously merge. For that matter, why always near death? It seemed to be particularly constant with him-the others he knew experiencing this vauge power merely felt it shortly after he talked about it to them, and only once/twice, bar Golden Freddy. Not always in mortal danger, either. Golden Freddy would not answer the riddles, and even the Omniscient seemed to have some hole. Tazz tried. He failed. What else would know?
The thing that knew by proxy.
Paradox Space, for all of it's crimes, at least tries to make people better understand themselves, and it seemed to have intrinsic understanding of all who enter its radius of control. It left a lot to be left up to the people in charge. And this was considering it was also horribly disgusted at Tazz's very existence and did not want further contact. But no matter how much it loathed its presence, it HELPED. He's still gotta find himself. For real. Find out what he is. And why. Who knows. Maybe the answer changed?
...He would have much to do. But first, to survive. Hold the line. He could not do this alone-the Descendants could not do this alone. But with help...
...
Elseware, a Wanderer grew bored at himself. This Wanderer's sheer existence was a lucky stroke. A thought, slightly improved from other thoughts, in a mind of many thoughts, many different. Then a wave of hate, unlike any other, the birth of another's nigh-unlimited power. Then, the agony of the thinker's death. All other thoughts were quenched, but this one thought absorbed the powers of its others. From there, barely alive, it was a, fight to exist, and the right to be a part of existence. No child he knew of ever has such a plight. But he won, impossible odds achieved instantly. Narrative? Luck? His own power? He did not know. Nor, up until this point, did he ever care.
What the Wanderer would technically be, in this case, could be called a 'Split,' but this was more of a thought given ascended form as an entity, using an old body. It fought its way to its sapience, a painful revelation that felt near-fatal itself. The gift of life, more painful than the death of the Former. This body was different from the Former's current one-the Former came back, this the Wanderer knew. It was one with two functioning eyes. One that had not ascended as a Godmodder, as the Former managed to, later. While the Former went on to glory...This one, this one was left with, as he realized, very little. He wasn't sure how the Former managed it, his ascension. He wasn't there for it. Wasn't omniscient.
As if by some recognition of his impossible victory and ascension to a plane of higher existence-that is to say, actually existing-the Narrative has given him a brief period where he could do almost no wrong, it seemed. Or maybe it was just luck? The difference didn't matter, really. He had successfully stolen from his Former's alchemies for the brief time he had them (before now), taking what he felt was pertinent and abandoning the rest. He always had what he needed when he needed it. He could convince things that he was the best leader (and he was.) His trip through the void and to a session granted him nothing but fortune in his few drives. He had a small network of allies that supported him, or at least he felt like it. He had considerable power, the former's superiority aside. But first, a thought he kept in the back of his head.
The Former was superior.
It consumed him. It was almost totally true and it consumed him.
His newfound intelligence, backed up with the former's prior experiences, made what would be a simpleminded thought into a currently conflicted person. He looked at the Anti-Godmodders of another world. When they united...It scared him. There was something in there. A force. A power. Inexplicable. Terrifyingly strong, terrifyingly accessible for its strength. He felt like he had a level of it, but they wielded it better, and stronger. It was not hard, as he found out. He knew of the Former's antics, but seeing it in person felt different. Fresh. And the beauty and horror of what they were actually doing hit him square in the jaw.
He silently withdrew. A thought of hate and rage, sapped of all bloodlust. Or almost all. The Former's hate of Piono, Richard and Pane, and the Wanderer's present hate of the Former, was most of what kept him going, but thinking about how to carry out his plans to destroy his competition made him more and more glum, contemplative, and depressed, as it became more obvious that he was just so inferior to everything he wanted to kill. Narrative influences were not kind to things called 'Splits.' Yet it drove him. He felt as if that if nothing drove him he would collapse, dead, stripped of everything he had. It wasn't true, of course, but he wanted to live, at all costs. He didn't have a soul, or didn't feel like he had one. Life was all he had, as he stole the body from a soul that left it. It would be cataclysmic if he did not have something to live for. Uselessness, that was what he hated so much. Even if he were merely the pawn in absolute destruction, he would gladly do so. So isolated was he, on the other side of the world of GodCraft, that he was simply uncaring of the carnage a face away.
This was what he was thinking prior to the Eclipse.
Then, the Trial engaged like a mother[REDACTED].
The problem with life is, it usually doesn't bother to warn you half the time. The Wanderer realized his temporary Narrative blessing was already done, and it had been a while ago. However, standing in the middle of GodCraft during the Eclipse was the last thing anyone wanted to be. As some of the most destructive powers ever known to man wrecked havoc upon the world he rested upon, their infinite powers tearing the poor world asunder, the Wanderer was not given the power needed to survive anything. Tendrils of red annihilated the scenery around him, and what was left of the world found itself called to a 'greater' calling, to be made into the Incarnate-Wanderer included. The Wander tried as much as possible, running away from the suction as the last intact pieces of the world rushed around him, but he knew it wouldn't be enough.
How fitting. To die as a footnote. An afterthought.
Of course, then he reasoned, wait, he was not. He thought with a mind, his mind. He felt with skin, his skin. He breathed with lungs, his lungs. He could not before but now he did. He fought for the right to take the place of a dead one instead of letting the body go to waste, fought for cognizance, fought for sapience, fought for the right to exist and live, and succeeded. Did that not make him something else? Was he more?
This was a much more complicated process than he would have usually understood, and for most, more complicated than they could wrap their heads around. That simple line of text is the best summary. Take our word for it, and know that the Wanderer was not going to sit down and let this happen.
But, even with his resolve strengthened, he could not fight off the power, a force simultaneously sucking him in and willing him towards the entity that would soon be called the Incarnate. It was immense. His many weapons felt inaccessible to him now-the only safety being the safety of his inventory. The Narrative protected only a select group, meanwhile, about thirty-strong, on the other side of the planet. The Narrative offered protection for them for a final battle.
Not for the Wanderer.
He willed anyways, uncaring at this point. He would fight and die for all he felt he really cared for, all he had left. He would not burn out to merely become a tiny piece in a machine. He decided himself more precious than to suffer like that.
He willed.
He willed.
He willed, and succeeded.
The tug stopped for the Wanderer. Not for the world around him, but he was now anchored squarely. The world ravaged around him, but the Wanderer would not be dead.
The Wanderer looked dumbfounded for a solid minute, the apocalypse continuing to rage around him quite indifferent to events. It was miraculous he even lived at this point. The Narrative would not care for him at this stage-it was busy else ware, trying to stave off it's destruction. He did it. Alone, even.
He looked upwards at what anchored him. Any interested onlooker would be seeing a confusing sight, but at that moment, for the Wanderer, it was blatantly clear that the only power that saved him was his own.
He looked upon the power that the Former currently could not grasp to the full extent he wished. It was perhaps his simpler being that allowed him to get at what the Former could not. It was weak now, to be completely fair. The Former's, as usual, was probably going to manifest stronger initially, but the Wanderer would have it grow to the right potency by the time they would meet in combat. His power would be superior, for a change. It would grow as fast as he would grow into a threat more substantial than he was before, and in materializing it did something that no-one could truly attest to yet. Even he didn't know what impossible thing he just did, or to the full extent of how impossible it was. He felt better than anything now.
What the Wanderer thought now is best left unknown, other than it was pure euphoria.
Blue looks out the window of the TARDIS at the start of the apocalypse, and then turns around at Wilson's scream just in time to see him fall over. She then quickly alternates her view between Wilson, the ongoing apocalypse, and the TARDIS failing to take off. She thinks for a few seconds, and then runs over and grabs Wilson.
...well, this is just a hell of a mess, isn't it? I'm getting out of here, good luck, whatever all your names are.
Blue makes sure her grip on Wilson is secure, and that no one else is touching either of them, before swinging her other arm to free the Ultraband from her sleeve. Before she even finishes her motion, Wilson and her vanish from the bridge of the TARDIS and appear in the main room of the HMAS Ship, which is currently travelling through the void, back towards Universe BTM.
((Yes, that is the canon name of the universe Blue is from.))
No attacks this turn will work. Save them for later. Edit your posts accordingly. As far as I can tell, there's nothing prohibiting shields and Ubercharge/medical but that's about it.
/IMPORTANTNULL
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Weird Things Mods Say When Booting
[Client thread/INFO] [TConstruct]: Natura, what are we going to do tomorrow night?
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
[Client thread/INFO] [inpure|core]: Beating Minecraft's resource loading system with a shovel. Please stand by...
[Client thread/INFO] [MagicBees]: Replacing stupid-block with 'Here, have some delicious textures' ItemBlock. This is 100% normal.
No attacks this turn will work. Save them for later. Edit your posts accordingly. As far as I can tell, there's nothing prohibiting shields and Ubercharge/medical but that's about it.
/IMPORTANTNULL
Could you not?
No post today, I have real life stuff to attend to. Expect a post tomorrow to see how the Incarnate stands against your attacks.
The Meaning of Life, the Universe, and Everything.
Location:
Both here
Join Date:
1/5/2012
Posts:
245
Location:
and there at once.
Minecraft:
same as this one
Xbox:
Don't have one
PSN:
Don't want one
Member Details
umm... did Twin specifically say that? Because I did a lot of, in my opinion at least, rather creative attacks. But if none are going to work, then I should copy them down onto a textfile to use later.
/null
Edit- SEMI-TWINJA. So, where'd you get the idea that nothing would work? Because Twin seems to say otherwise. Plus, I have a ton of healing planned with Flask of the Kitsune + Kitsune Charm SYNERGY to get SIX uses out of that level 10 potion. Possibly even more. That's why I wanted the Kitsune Charm so badly.
Time Travel edit: Well alright then Fseftr. I suppose I'll cut and paste all my attacks onto a text file for later.
Last edit: Well, there. All three of my actions changed to defensive ones. Lets hope that does some good.
Psionic Diffuser && Cobalt Blood (4/???)
Psionic Diffuser && Purple Blood (4/???)
Psionic Diffuser && Fuchsia Blood (4/???)
I suddenly activate Cipher's Call, the triangular mark glowing with flickering blue flames occasionally. I proceed to watch as the triangle shows continuously vacillating images of the cosmos, from universe to universe, star to star, and supernova to supernova, and far beyond. Slowly, the very laws of reality seem to phase in and out of existence as the vision of the Triangle reaches ever further out into the infinity of existence, reft with many an anomaly. Time and space continually shift forwards at increasingly drastic rates as I adjust the triangle's sight, until I am peering billions of loä into the future, sight passing across all. As this has all been occurring, increasingly greater amounts of indigo-colored flames pour forth from the marking, spilling onto the floor. Immediately, the flames levitate into the air, forming intrinsically bound balls of blue fire, radiating the essence of the mind and of the dreamscape. With a thought, the flames all meld together into a singular indigo inferno of pure mental power, twisting and manipulating itself of its own accord, strange shapes seeming to form at the epicenter of the mental blaze. I proceed to enter the mindscape of the nearest allied player with the energies of these flames, appearing within a ring of flames. Immediately, I begin channeling the Mind within this mental landscape, my research over places of this sort granting me some sort of power boost in this regard. Now, my immediate reaction would ordinarily be to drain all memories of value from the place, but I'd rather not. That is not my assignment at the current moment. I snap my fingers, and an inconceivably large tank of Warded Glass appears directly before me, filled to the brim with pure Sensus essentia. I proceed to begin getting rid of the wards coating the glass, and the actual physical strength of its base components with the nigh-unlimited possibilities of the mindscape, before shattering the weakened glass. Upon exposure to air, the essentia immediately evaporates, leaving a large amount of gaseous Sensus at the top of the tank. With a thought, the remnants of this tank vaporize themselves. Sensus pours everywhere, energizing the mind of the person I entered with the enriching of the senses, permitting for faster actions and quicker movements for about an enquier, or perhaps an action alone. Regardless, I leave the mindscape in question, waking up. The indigo flames die down, and I watch as the person whose mind I affected utilizes the effect they have been given.
Post III
Wwhorp!!
V: How was it? Did you find it?
U2: It wazn't there. Wrecked. But I found the potion in a pocket dimenzion, along with many other potionz, a cheztplate, and a weird knife. I hope that it waz the right plaze. It felt zomehow.. recurzive, az if it waz inzide another pocket dimenzion. But who would do zuch a zilly thing??
Biumbra hands me the Potion of Aquaphobia.
V: Excellent. The mech is ready. But first, I'll see what I can do about the Alchemiter.
Whorp!
I examine the Alchemiter for any physical signs of the Curse. I then check if various components such as the Duplicator, Loom, Renamer or Potion Mixer still work.
I then look up towards the sky, where the Eclipse is meancingly descending onto Godcraft. I raise Shooting Star, concentrating my power at the Eclipse with the intent of slowing it down.
Indigo Psiichip 5/6
I had so many incomplete alchemy plans... It burns...
Follow-up attack: One last Forge's Light Operandi! HEADSHOTx0!
...Oh who am I kidding. That won't do anything. But what about... THIS?
*nothing happens*
Or maybe... THIS!
*nothing happens*
...Hah! That was all just a decoy... when in reality, I can do... THIS!!!
*I wait a few seconds and then throw a rock at the mech*
The godmodder laughs at his former master's puny attempt to attack him. But it distracts the mech's defenses, hopefully opening the way for some creative attacks to succeed...
Check out my bad CTM map reviews here.
>As Engie's planet moves, a fleet of Evacuation-Class Ships sweeps by each impacted planet and evacuates the populations. They are then deposited on a planet that is exactly like theirs but that doesn't have a population. Exactly, down to the most minor details. Quantum shenanigans.
A>Engie, really? That was not necessary, I can provide you with uninhabited planets to smash people with.
"Oh well, no harm no foul...Well, some fowl."
"Heh."
==Somewhere in the distance==
A planetary city detects a terrible, and terribly discriminatory pun. Thankfully, it misidentifies the speaker.
==Meanwhile, in the Moon debris==
A>Build, Split, if the Doom Bullets hit alone, would that cause a problem for the planet?
A>If not, I can wormhole them out and free up some energy.
N>"If we do it one chunk at a time, I bet we COULD just use the bits as projectile weapons..."
N>I launch a wormhole over the smallest Moon chunk and a single Doom Bullet, launching them into the Incarnate's eye.
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
Universal Power Ubercharge Meter: 6/9
Final Planet Express Ship: 7/11
==Actions==
Lothyra notices something on the internet.
Lothyra: "Hmm. I'll use this for a "Reason You Suck Speech" later on.
Zoidberg overheals more players that aren't already overhealed. Leela fires an antimatter torpedo from the Planet Express Ship 3.0 at a large meteorite, while Fry blasts smaller ones with the Planet Express Ship 3.0's turret. Lothyra then realizes something.
Lothyra:: "HEY TWIN! YOU KNOW THAT IF WORST COMES TO WORST AND WE'RE ABOUT TO GET A GAME OVER, YOU DO HAVE THE DEUDLY MAGNUM!"
In the grim darkness of an imprisoned Minecraftia, there is only war.
Lothyropolis
Psionic Diffuser && Cobalt Blood (5/???)
Psionic Diffuser && Purple Blood (5/???)
Psionic Diffuser && Fuchsia Blood (5/???)
I begin to channel the energy of the nearest Artifact, evidently seeking to expedite whatever processes might occur in the course of my actions. My influence stretches beyond the entirety of the universe in an attempt to locate a singular Artifact. It is not entirely certain whether or not my difficultly arises from the lack of their existence in Universe C, or the fact that they have simply all been devoured by the force of Brine. As a matter of fact, my influence stretches far beyond several universes before I directly locate an Artifact within a universe that seems both familiar and long lost to time. Hah. Now, unless I am mistaken, this sort of distance would likely indicate a Gray Obelisk of some sort. Interesting. I utilize the Obelisk as a direct link to its position as a sort of source of sorcerous potency in reality, primarily draining residual energy, yet by FAR distanced from anything you could refer to as thaumic, or even mildly Minecraftian. I allow the sorcery to flow through my body, sensing the madness and corruption of the magics themselves burning through my form. Still, I allow the energies to surge about within the vortices of my mind. An overbearing force begins to project itself from my body as I channel the energy, which is evidently overwhelming me. Whatever I'm attempting to channel is overtly tearing away at my brain, and slowly disabling other bodily functions. Frantically, I begin to disable my link to the Gray Obelisk in question. It appears to deny my metaphorical request, overriding any and all attempts to flee from the energies. As such, I resort to merely overloading the link. I attempt to flood the bond with wave upon wave of psioneuronic activity, bearing little to no positive results. Regardless, I continue to bombard this sympathetic bond with progressively larger amounts of psioneuronic waves internally, blood pounding in my ears. After minutes of struggling, I feel a piercingly sharp pain in the back of my brain, and the link is severed, and the remaining waves of sorcery devastate my body from within, shuddering about with enough power to permanently induce horrific brain trauma. As the last drops of energy enter the surging maelstrom of my body's energy from their travel across the link instants before it was shattered, I begin to release this power startlingly swiftly and mildly excessively. I feel as if I were bleeding profusely from my every orifice. However, nothing visibly occurs. That is not a good indicator of whether or not something is actually transpiring. The nearest player suddenly feels slightly cooler as a completely undetectable barrier of some force surrounds them, separating them from the apocalypse, however ineffectually. The stabbing pains in my head slowly subside, giving way to the Voices, and the occasional auditory hallucinations once more, the former of which continue to pound at my head incessantly with their dark promises and ceaseless screaming and whispering, arguably causing more pain than the actual stabbing pain that was present mere moments ago.
As the pounding pain gradually returns to my brain, I pull out a variety of oracles. The Transparent Magic Cueball, the Onyx Visink Magic 8-Ball, and several ancient divination pots, before asking them all the same question.
How many Ancestors remain alive and active in this war?
Afterwards, I utilize both the Illumination and Cipher's Call to view one person in particular. Show me the Operator, Gemini. And, for that matter, I use the temporal features of the Illumination to figure out if he's been in proximity with the First Block recently, searching from the beginning of March onwards. Scratch's machine supposedly killed Gemini. Quite frankly, I think it was a fate worse than death. I think he became a certain orchid being, restricted until he was released into a viable construct, in this case GodCraft's First Block, through the Tower.
Partial Inventory: Potion of Critmist II x33, Potion of Vis x27, Potion of Nectar x3, Potion of Crimson x2, Potion of Moonlight x2, Potion of Fortune x2, Potion of Fear x2, Potion of Hellsun x2,
Wilson's Shop: $342
Battlefield: I give Build and Split each a copy of the Ultrafield, which happen to have similar logos on them.
+2 to Wilson
Leftovers AND Focus Sash AND Life Orb AND Charm AND Azure Essence 9/11
Erelye Doll AND Protection Charm AND Azure Essence 9/11
Map of the Multiverse AND Twitch Logo AND Tablet AND Azure Essence 4/11
I go back in time a couple posts.
I then mute Lothya before she says anything.
==In the present, somewhere else==
A large amount of Miniature Suns are being created and pushed into what might be the largest Miniature-Sun powered device yet.
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
Turn 3/3.
Thaumonomitron && Magic Cueball = Thaumic Oracle 7/11.
Fifth Wall-Breaking Magic && Simple Crystal Orb = The Sight-Beyond 6/6 COMPLETE
I raise the Rod of Phyrexia, lobbing a blast of searing black flame at The Incarnate. If it connects, I immediately attempt to send a blast of tech-destroying hexing magic through the oil's formed link.
0rigin Point.
Avatar by TwinBuilder.
((Welp, I missed a lot of stuff
@talist: The fourth wall thing is fine, the problem is that you and erelye are trying to argue OOC problems in in-character monologues. Sort of bad form.))
Strategy: This round, we won't be able to touch it. Just set up defenses so that its first attack doesn't completely wipe us out. We can't do anything until the MacGuffin or reinforcements show up.
Eric, Sanford and Deimos scramble to try and get the TARDIS to lift off, but just before they can leave, the godmodder gets back and holds the TARDIS down. A quick shot of Universe B is visible on one of the screens, and then the lock-on is lost. Then Wilson screams. Eric immediately rushes over to him, Wilson! Are you okay? Sanford and Hank continue trying to get the TARDIS off the ground.
((OOC of character taking that potion of Scratch II to justify TARDIS antics))
The TARDIS's shielding pulses, a wave of temporal energy flowing out. Normally, in the sink of all the chaos going on, this would do nothing, but the TARDIS survived being a center for paradox magic, so there's that.
The wave of temporal warp protects the players and various and sundry anyone from incoming attacks this round.
And suddenly...
A small space dinghy, put together out of various different parts, duct tape and pure, unadulterated unbelievably stupidly good luck (the last is assumed, as it is not only still in one piece, but working just fine) comes along, just overhead.
Inside it is Old Man Elderly.
It is said that he was born an old man, and as he grew up, only became more and more crotchety and crazy. His parents knew right from the beginning what to call him. Old Man is no title, and Elderly is no nickname. His initials, are in fact, OME. Why is this not some clever acronym, because sonny, back in his day, acronyms hadn't been invented yet.
He is the oldest man in the universe, even if age wise he's still only 25.
He's decided to use his fisherman backstory, because, just like the eldest of old men, he can't remember who he used to be. So he just decides to choose which one seems most likely on any given day.
He pulls up his fishing rod, and hooks his bait. It is a cardboard circle, fingerpainted into a close approximation of the disc of mojang. Old Man Elderly is going godmodder fishing.
The 'disc' slowly descends into the godmodder's view, and completely without thinking, the godmodder reaches for the disc, The Incarnate mimicking the motion, and Old Man Elderly begins pulling.
Guess what happens?
If you said Old Man Elderly reels him in, you've been too heavily indoctrinated in the realms of irony, there's no way an Old Man (even a 25 year old Old Man) could lift that thing.
The godmodder feels a slight tug on the string, and gives a great yank, trying to pull down whoever is trying to bait him.
The string breaks, but not before the poorly-assembled space dinghy's engines do.
The next thing the godmodder realizes is that a makeshift space dinghy has just smashed into the head of The Incarnate.
DTG Co Labs
Nope, sorry guys, no Destroy the Godmodder relevant stuff here...
At least, not yet.
"...Actually, hmm. I wonder..."
My drone suddenly wanders away for a little bit, then comes back with an Infi-Nut mounted on a minecart. I then give the Infi-Nut a shot of Plant Food, generating a tall, durable energy barrier, angled to take the brunt of any attacks launched by the INCARNATE against us.
"Okay, hopefully that thing holds for a while. I've seen these take Gargantaur hits fairly well, so it should count for something."
GODDAMN IT
STUPID GENDERFLIP VIRUS
java.lang.NullPointerException
YouTube Poop Essence && Spadinner Blaster = The Dumper (4/9)
Essence of Random Phrases && Fully Factual Facts DVD && Digital Designs 9918Z = The RIB (6/7)
MLG Essence && Shrek'd Prepubescence = Cool Ranch Killer (11/11)
Action
I heal random players with Seventh Sin.
Post 1
(GREEN)It's happening! The end times!(END GREEN)
(BROWN)Well, it's time to set up some fortifications at least...(END BROWN)
Gerbil gets in a wheel and starts spinning. A panel in the walls turns over, revealing an instantly pressed red button. Burnt nuclear engines are moved out from the back of the house. A panel is extended from above the sink, stating the current location. The Dimensional Hole wall returns to normality, and a giant ring starts surrounding the house. The engines start firing as the ring fills up with a certain form of matter. It starts translating in space...
Far away, a copper board starts dropping into a presumed Black Hole... Before it falls in, an error in floating-point arithmetic causes the copper board to be teleported right next to the moon shards, and accelerate. It hits every moon shard, attempting to put them into orbit. The copper board starts falling into the atmosphere with it's reduced speed.
ACT 1.
SIXTH DEGREE UBERCHARGE: 9/9.
Let's get this out of the way before I go on to do my last, and probably largest, RP post on DTG2. Mostly just sequal hooks. Or prequal hooks. Who knows when they'll play out?
In any case. Being that this is the end of the world...Well, hopefully that Gutter Barrier holds out, even if only for a singular attack.
Now. To hold the line.
I pull out the Excalibleep and fire it on the ground. I doubt this will last for even a second given these circumstances, but the wall of ice that I expect still forms, shielding various AG entities. It's as big as I could get it. It reaches to the sky, almost appearing to attempt to stand against it, an impossible feat. It's an impossible feat in general, really, but we must fight. The impossible must become possible. We must change it's unflexing, undying, unyielding power, and triumph over it. Meanwhile, I toss a standard Ubercharge at Build with the Sixth Degree, hoping to shield him from harm and make sure the Eclipse is honestly stalled. We need this backup to arrive, whatever it is...U2, though...What could Twin be planning?
Golden Freddy, through a convenient viewport in the TARDIS (miraculously functioning, if not unscathed), just watches the carnage unfold in front of him. He could not place words to it. He couldn't even compare it to the Squid Ink Incident at this point. This was several orders of magnitudes higher than the Squid Ink Incident at this point.
"WELL. CLEARLY THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE TERRIBLY SURVIVABLE FOR THE REST OF US. BUT FIRST. A SPEECH. I HAD ONE, BUT THEN OUR NEW-FAVORITE SLAVE-SLASH-CHAMPION-SLASH-[REDACTED] TO BRINE CAME BACK, SO I CHANGED IT. AND YES. THAT IS THE NAME OF THE DRAGON. LET US NOT REPEAT IT, FIFTH WALL SHENANIGANS. NOW, FOR THE SPEECH."
Golden Freddy usually does not do the dramatic except when killing people he really hates, but suddenly, regardless of the strength of wards, the power of all present, or anything else that could even remotely intervene, even that of the most powerful forces of existence working together to collectively block it (granted, the last of these was not actually happening), the minds of all pertinent are filled with the face of Golden Freddy, merely staring. Not harming. His mental broadcast is to all of the Descendants still fighting, as well as their closer allies, only helped with the gentlest touch by the Narrative. His time is not unlimited, but it is enough to deliver a short speech before his inevitable departure with that of the TARDIS.
"ERIC. BLUE. ERELYE. ENGIE. WILSON. TAZZ. IRE. TALIST. PROOF. SERPENT. KAYNE. CRUSHER. PIT. MODPACK. SLINGSHOT. MANIAC. NET. LOTHRYA. V. U. NINJATWIST. TEHPIC. SPHEE. GENERATOR. TT2K. AMP. ZAND. XCANO. OMGLOLS. CRYSTAL. POKEFAN. SPLIT. BUILD. NOTCH, JEB, DINNERBONE, THE REST OF MOJANG, AND ANY OTHER DESCENDANTS I MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN, AS WELL AS ALL OTHERS STILL LIVING AND STILL FIGHTING AGAINST THE GODMODDER, THE [REDACTED]LORD."
"I COMMAND OF THEE THE ONE THING THAT WILL ENSURE YOUR SURVIVAL. I COMMAND OF THEE THE GOAL THAT NO ENTITY NOR ENTITIES IN EXISTENCE, HOWEVER POWERFUL, HAVE EVER ACHIEVED, EVEN IN THEORETICAL UNISON WITH ONE ANOTHER, INCLUDING THE RED DRAGON, INCLUDING THE SECRET OF THE VOID, INCLUDING YOG-SOTHOTH, INCLUDING THE HAND OF TRUTH, INCLUDING SIPS_, INCLUDING DREAM OF THE ENDLESS, INCLUDING CHUCK NORRIS, INCLUDING THE NARRATIVE, INCLUDING OTHERS THAT I WILL NOT CARE TO NAME, AND MOST OF ALL, OH MOST DEFINITELY INCLUDING THE GODMODDER. I COMMAND OF THEE WHAT HAS, FOR THE LONGEST TIME, BEEN IMPOSSIBLE FOR ALL, AND I COMMAND THEE TO GO BEYOND THE IMPOSSIBLE AND MAKE IT THE NEW REALITY."
"I COMMAND THEE."
"GIT."
The vision's Golden Freddy materializes the sweetest pair of shades ever known to anything in existence.
"GUD."
"NOW. ENGAGE THE GODMODDER MOTHER[REDACTED]S."
Golden Freddy vanishes from the minds, and in the TARDIS, the physical location as well. As usual, his real position is impossible to scry except through literal, physical surveillance cameras, and the TARDIS does not seem to be in the mood to spawn one to spot him for whatever reason.
Tazz, meanwhile, contemplates the scenario. It's all too dangerous, terrifying and most of all new, and simultaneously all too uncomfortably familiar, similar, and wrong.
It took a majority of existence and a majority of the most powerful forces it had within its boundaries, as well as a few beyond it, to leverage it's continuation the last time something of even remotely comparable scale happened. Now, the Narrative and a small group of Descendants must now, in unison, annihilate a threat to existence, a considerably smaller force than previous. No control. Something was going to end here, it was either the Godmodder or the Descendants, and what ended thereafter would be decided by this fight against the Incarnate. (What is it with supervillains and the like and freaking humonguous Meches? And what is with the Godmodder and his increasingly awesome arms? Tazz hid a slight jealousy for the Godmodder's increasingly awesome left arms. He called dibs on one.)
Golden Freddy was just one of the new and interesting companions he had with him when he first did this, during the Squid Ink Incident. There were others. Squidward. Ellis. Ardigus. Nostro. Zill Yggdravoxel. All aboard that TARDIS, if what Golden Freddy had told him before was true, except possibly Zill. In the last scenario, they did their part, along with others. Many others. Many millions of times mightier than Tazz ever thought he could be. The might of beings great and small in an unseen unison, beating back a threat that seemed impossible to even contain at that point, much less actually kill.
Existence is now asking for the same feat, again, on hardcore mode.
Not the Narrative. The narrative is being asked of it too. None others could hope to approach, but the Narrative had the unique benefit of true Omnipresence, and thus, was already there. Last time, they who fought the incident had the benefit of making the first move when the confusion died down, and they, a rushed and temporary coalition of many, of the weak, of the strong, of all stripes, fought in tandem, with a game plan, a course of action, the first move on their side. Here? Thirty-Three Descendants, unable to properly prepare except to anticipate the end, along with the Narrative, hopelessly working through every last facet it possibly could to help stand a chance, a chance that was slowly, but surely dying right in front of it. No-one else. The Red Dragon was already freed, loose, rampaging without restraint, and this does not even discount the Godmodder and his Incarnate. He did not currently have weaknesses. He had tiny gaps in an otherwise all-encompassing immunity to everything.
...
He awoke a power, a long time ago. Something. He couldn't describe it properly. He had a hard time figuring it out. It was a very slow awakening, though, but it was working.
He grasped the fringes of it during his second-to-last encounter with Pane, five years ago. A single swipe from the ether kept the Bard of Life alive, but from what did this phantom blade come from? And why did it not aid him in fighting back and ending that monster before he got away?
He didn't fully realize it, but came close, during the Squid Ink Incident. Another blade would fall to save his life, again and again, even when the, err, 'bad guy' had him in his grasp, or unrelated others that were nevertheless dangerous. His friends kind of did as well. Once or twice, something defended them, despite the complete lack of aid, nor reasonable explanation behind it. Golden Freddy seemed to have a grasp better than anyone else did, for some reason.
He never managed to use it, but slowly gained some level of intrinsic, coincidental understanding during the Godmodding war, or the parts he participated in-now, however, he started to kind of understand it. Even his very first moves highlighted it. Murphy's law was basically his nemesis initially, it was an unbearable obstacle and had to be removed, and he made sure of it. Moving ahead a bit, Tazz wasn't aware of the Sucker when he licked it, but it brought things to light. He was more mentally sated fighting Piono than, say, helping everyone solve their 'problems'. In hindsight, not EVERYONE was converted. It was easy to find who wasn't, or even slip around given some determined action. That implied something about him that he didn't want to admit. He was terrified of the sheer implications, but he loved carnage. His purpose was to delve headfirst into a problem and solve it-but not in a peaceful way. His kind of problem to solve was the kind that looked...Impossible. Antagonistic. In his way. In hindsight, Pane killing him made him sad not because he was so frustrated at his inability to be found, and the fact that Pane had effectively proven he was not to be caught easily-and probably got away in the TARDIS as well, so hidden not even the thing itself could find it, an invisible virus effectively-but that Pane proved to be a next-to-impossible obstacle. Scarily, it wasn't that it got in the way of peace, an eternal blockade. It was the implication that Tazz couldn't solve it, that probably hurt the most. But then, he helped Kill Piono, and went on to kill worse, including Fear, the Disc of Mojang, and the Bleak. Every last time it was cathartic, seeing those things fall to him, a scary kind of catharsis.
For one: Tazz belived that Pane was initially his deal. His friends were not strong enough, even Zill was put off-kilter by the powers he possessed. But this guy-the Godmodder, Richard, by proxy-proved that Pane was invincible alone. But Richard was not invincible. Nor was Pane. He needed friends, or allies at least, and once again these guys-or other guys-might prove the ticket. But. That was just one part of it.
The other was, Tazz, really deep down, loved to hurt others.
Not just any others, though! Obstacles. People who hated him, or got in the way. Himself, even, to a degree, but Tazz usually didn't put himself down for much, or often. But he wished-quite literally-physical, mental and spiritual harm, of a lasting sort, upon any who would honest-to-goodness oppose him.
He felt like he understood his actual class for the very first time-or came close. What he figured out about himself wasn't exactly the kind of mindset such a passive class as a Bard of Life, but in this case, his obstacle, or what he assumed it to be, was a powerset that didn't prove useful at first glance. He admitted, he never got the 100% hang of it even after getting the Tiger. But the real obstacle was the ability to fight through others, be a hand, be the lynchpin. He didn't like that, at all. He didn't like friends being put in harms way, but, equally true (if not more so), he didn't like others solving his problems for him. Except, sometimes that's exactly what has to be done.
Friends, obstacles, done. Check.
...He felt like a piece was missing, though. Like. Something was in the way, still. But what? He felt like there were two opposing ideals in play here. He could not really see how this would miraculously merge. For that matter, why always near death? It seemed to be particularly constant with him-the others he knew experiencing this vauge power merely felt it shortly after he talked about it to them, and only once/twice, bar Golden Freddy. Not always in mortal danger, either. Golden Freddy would not answer the riddles, and even the Omniscient seemed to have some hole. Tazz tried. He failed. What else would know?
The thing that knew by proxy.
Paradox Space, for all of it's crimes, at least tries to make people better understand themselves, and it seemed to have intrinsic understanding of all who enter its radius of control. It left a lot to be left up to the people in charge. And this was considering it was also horribly disgusted at Tazz's very existence and did not want further contact. But no matter how much it loathed its presence, it HELPED. He's still gotta find himself. For real. Find out what he is. And why. Who knows. Maybe the answer changed?
...He would have much to do. But first, to survive. Hold the line. He could not do this alone-the Descendants could not do this alone. But with help...
Elseware, a Wanderer grew bored at himself. This Wanderer's sheer existence was a lucky stroke. A thought, slightly improved from other thoughts, in a mind of many thoughts, many different. Then a wave of hate, unlike any other, the birth of another's nigh-unlimited power. Then, the agony of the thinker's death. All other thoughts were quenched, but this one thought absorbed the powers of its others. From there, barely alive, it was a, fight to exist, and the right to be a part of existence. No child he knew of ever has such a plight. But he won, impossible odds achieved instantly. Narrative? Luck? His own power? He did not know. Nor, up until this point, did he ever care.
What the Wanderer would technically be, in this case, could be called a 'Split,' but this was more of a thought given ascended form as an entity, using an old body. It fought its way to its sapience, a painful revelation that felt near-fatal itself. The gift of life, more painful than the death of the Former. This body was different from the Former's current one-the Former came back, this the Wanderer knew. It was one with two functioning eyes. One that had not ascended as a Godmodder, as the Former managed to, later. While the Former went on to glory...This one, this one was left with, as he realized, very little. He wasn't sure how the Former managed it, his ascension. He wasn't there for it. Wasn't omniscient.
As if by some recognition of his impossible victory and ascension to a plane of higher existence-that is to say, actually existing-the Narrative has given him a brief period where he could do almost no wrong, it seemed. Or maybe it was just luck? The difference didn't matter, really. He had successfully stolen from his Former's alchemies for the brief time he had them (before now), taking what he felt was pertinent and abandoning the rest. He always had what he needed when he needed it. He could convince things that he was the best leader (and he was.) His trip through the void and to a session granted him nothing but fortune in his few drives. He had a small network of allies that supported him, or at least he felt like it. He had considerable power, the former's superiority aside. But first, a thought he kept in the back of his head.
The Former was superior.
It consumed him. It was almost totally true and it consumed him.
His newfound intelligence, backed up with the former's prior experiences, made what would be a simpleminded thought into a currently conflicted person. He looked at the Anti-Godmodders of another world. When they united...It scared him. There was something in there. A force. A power. Inexplicable. Terrifyingly strong, terrifyingly accessible for its strength. He felt like he had a level of it, but they wielded it better, and stronger. It was not hard, as he found out. He knew of the Former's antics, but seeing it in person felt different. Fresh. And the beauty and horror of what they were actually doing hit him square in the jaw.
He silently withdrew. A thought of hate and rage, sapped of all bloodlust. Or almost all. The Former's hate of Piono, Richard and Pane, and the Wanderer's present hate of the Former, was most of what kept him going, but thinking about how to carry out his plans to destroy his competition made him more and more glum, contemplative, and depressed, as it became more obvious that he was just so inferior to everything he wanted to kill. Narrative influences were not kind to things called 'Splits.' Yet it drove him. He felt as if that if nothing drove him he would collapse, dead, stripped of everything he had. It wasn't true, of course, but he wanted to live, at all costs. He didn't have a soul, or didn't feel like he had one. Life was all he had, as he stole the body from a soul that left it. It would be cataclysmic if he did not have something to live for. Uselessness, that was what he hated so much. Even if he were merely the pawn in absolute destruction, he would gladly do so. So isolated was he, on the other side of the world of GodCraft, that he was simply uncaring of the carnage a face away.
This was what he was thinking prior to the Eclipse.
Then, the Trial engaged like a mother[REDACTED].
The problem with life is, it usually doesn't bother to warn you half the time. The Wanderer realized his temporary Narrative blessing was already done, and it had been a while ago. However, standing in the middle of GodCraft during the Eclipse was the last thing anyone wanted to be. As some of the most destructive powers ever known to man wrecked havoc upon the world he rested upon, their infinite powers tearing the poor world asunder, the Wanderer was not given the power needed to survive anything. Tendrils of red annihilated the scenery around him, and what was left of the world found itself called to a 'greater' calling, to be made into the Incarnate-Wanderer included. The Wander tried as much as possible, running away from the suction as the last intact pieces of the world rushed around him, but he knew it wouldn't be enough.
How fitting. To die as a footnote. An afterthought.
Of course, then he reasoned, wait, he was not. He thought with a mind, his mind. He felt with skin, his skin. He breathed with lungs, his lungs. He could not before but now he did. He fought for the right to take the place of a dead one instead of letting the body go to waste, fought for cognizance, fought for sapience, fought for the right to exist and live, and succeeded. Did that not make him something else? Was he more?
This was a much more complicated process than he would have usually understood, and for most, more complicated than they could wrap their heads around. That simple line of text is the best summary. Take our word for it, and know that the Wanderer was not going to sit down and let this happen.
But, even with his resolve strengthened, he could not fight off the power, a force simultaneously sucking him in and willing him towards the entity that would soon be called the Incarnate. It was immense. His many weapons felt inaccessible to him now-the only safety being the safety of his inventory. The Narrative protected only a select group, meanwhile, about thirty-strong, on the other side of the planet. The Narrative offered protection for them for a final battle.
Not for the Wanderer.
He willed anyways, uncaring at this point. He would fight and die for all he felt he really cared for, all he had left. He would not burn out to merely become a tiny piece in a machine. He decided himself more precious than to suffer like that.
He willed.
He willed.
He willed, and succeeded.
The tug stopped for the Wanderer. Not for the world around him, but he was now anchored squarely. The world ravaged around him, but the Wanderer would not be dead.
The Wanderer looked dumbfounded for a solid minute, the apocalypse continuing to rage around him quite indifferent to events. It was miraculous he even lived at this point. The Narrative would not care for him at this stage-it was busy else ware, trying to stave off it's destruction. He did it. Alone, even.
He looked upwards at what anchored him. Any interested onlooker would be seeing a confusing sight, but at that moment, for the Wanderer, it was blatantly clear that the only power that saved him was his own.
He looked upon the power that the Former currently could not grasp to the full extent he wished. It was perhaps his simpler being that allowed him to get at what the Former could not. It was weak now, to be completely fair. The Former's, as usual, was probably going to manifest stronger initially, but the Wanderer would have it grow to the right potency by the time they would meet in combat. His power would be superior, for a change. It would grow as fast as he would grow into a threat more substantial than he was before, and in materializing it did something that no-one could truly attest to yet. Even he didn't know what impossible thing he just did, or to the full extent of how impossible it was. He felt better than anything now.
What the Wanderer thought now is best left unknown, other than it was pure euphoria.
Trickster Essence && Grimdark Essence && PS4 && Nether Reactor Core || Card Deck = Infernal Deck (Level 6: 4/7)
Cosmic Whole Blade && Illuminati && λΣ Fragment && Portal Gun && Cheat Engine = Oculus Blade (Level 10: 4/11)
Quantum Armor && Deflector Shields && Exanite && Avast! Antivirus && Disguise Kit = Antinite Armor (Level 10: 4/11)
I'll be making my great escape now!
PIT_ICARUS' TURN (2/3 Actions Remaining):
???:28/50"wait"
"[sudden realisation]"
"Ubzulla locks apocalyptical moves"
"i could've skipped this entire trial"
"palutenadammit"
I pull out the wand out of pure dissapointment.
"Looks like at this point, this is as good as i can do."
I cast it upon the godmodder in an attempt to try to nullify some of his power, if it could now.EDIT: THANKS FOR RUINING EVERYTHING NET NOW I CAN'T DO ANYTHING
((Finally have time for some RP))
Blue looks out the window of the TARDIS at the start of the apocalypse, and then turns around at Wilson's scream just in time to see him fall over. She then quickly alternates her view between Wilson, the ongoing apocalypse, and the TARDIS failing to take off. She thinks for a few seconds, and then runs over and grabs Wilson.
...well, this is just a hell of a mess, isn't it? I'm getting out of here, good luck, whatever all your names are.
Blue makes sure her grip on Wilson is secure, and that no one else is touching either of them, before swinging her other arm to free the Ultraband from her sleeve. Before she even finishes her motion, Wilson and her vanish from the bridge of the TARDIS and appear in the main room of the HMAS Ship, which is currently travelling through the void, back towards Universe BTM.
((Yes, that is the canon name of the universe Blue is from.))
/rpnull
IMPORTANT INFORMATION:
No attacks this turn will work. Save them for later. Edit your posts accordingly. As far as I can tell, there's nothing prohibiting shields and Ubercharge/medical but that's about it.
/IMPORTANTNULL
[Client thread/INFO] [Natura]: TConstruct, we're going to take over the world!
Could you not?
No post today, I have real life stuff to attend to. Expect a post tomorrow to see how the Incarnate stands against your attacks.
umm... did Twin specifically say that? Because I did a lot of, in my opinion at least, rather creative attacks. But if none are going to work, then I should copy them down onto a textfile to use later.
/null
Edit- SEMI-TWINJA. So, where'd you get the idea that nothing would work? Because Twin seems to say otherwise. Plus, I have a ton of healing planned with Flask of the Kitsune + Kitsune Charm SYNERGY to get SIX uses out of that level 10 potion. Possibly even more. That's why I wanted the Kitsune Charm so badly.
Time Travel edit: Well alright then Fseftr. I suppose I'll cut and paste all my attacks onto a text file for later.
Last edit: Well, there. All three of my actions changed to defensive ones. Lets hope that does some good.
There's a difference between a hero and a champion. A champion overcomes threats, but a hero overcomes fears.
All my maps, click here.
Then there's also a Youtube channel I'm somewhat involved in.