PL: The EPIC OOC - closed thread

[Swith Witherward]

Mmmm, such a lovely plost, Swith!

TY. It took all afternoon *laughs* Lots of naps and vegging to inane stuff like this.

But all the answers here are fantastic, but Tilt's spot on... some of this would be incredible to add to the IC. I read through the OOC, but probably won't post my next round of responses until tomorrow.

[Giovenith]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

[Tiltjuice]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

+15/10

[Chedastan]

What would Amanda do if she met Wilhelm himself after knowing of all the criticisms she made of him?
Which criticisms, Ched? The ones in the collab'd conversation that got stepped on by the ogres' arrival? Those criticisms?

Yes Slo, those ones that technically were never uttered by Amanda.

Maybe just the ones she'll say in person of him being right there with her?

[Mincaldenteans]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

LMAO

[Holy Lykos]

I just realized, what is Sakarias going to be doing here? He's not got a job to do so I don't know what to post LOL.

[Torsiedelle]

I'll have Katya speaking with some politicians, so maybe Sakarias can go with her, or Kale? Kaoe might get lonely.

Or the Ranger...soneone fired a gun, after all.

[Ganonsyoni]

Yeah... I thought he would be heading to the Ranger. Was reading up in the thread and thought he would be there talkin' will Bobbbeh.

[Holy Lykos]

I'll have Katya speaking with some politicians, so maybe Sakarias can go with her, or Kale? Kaoe might get lonely.

Or the Ranger...soneone fired a gun, after all.

Hmm, Might be good to go see what's going on, since I doubt Audette went and shot something that fast

[Cerillium]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

...that...

That isn't going in the one-shot box.

I put that, in its entirety, in the first mother fucking OP box of this entire mother fucking saga, right under rules and just above all the power guides and app spoilers.

THAT, Miss Gio, was one of your finest works during your illustrious tenure here. Not only entertaining to read, but packed with subtle snark and offhanded commentary. This is, indeed, how NOT to play a new character in PL. Nicely done.

[Torsiedelle]

Shitty exposition is shitty. I hate my post.

Deal with it, lol.

[Giovenith]

I win!

[Monfrox]

I win!

Now where's the humanized Willow one.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

Oh, I needed a good laugh! *holds up 11 score card*

[Primordial Luxa]

Q: Prim, do your characters have a plan to kill everyone they meet?
A: Only Aegis does, although most of these plans look the same. Light it on fire and hit it with a magic sword. Primordial however has a plan to con most people and Insidious is always interesting in getting people drunk and seducing them.

Q: Prim, if Insidious had a vast array of accessories (earth-type, harmless) which would become her favorite?
A: A Tamagotchi. The idea of creating digital life complete with happiness, suffering and death would fascinate her. The simplification of life down to small pleasures and pain would also be attractive. And of course she would love to just watch the little things die and then bring them back to life to start over again.

Q: Prim, Naomi had such a crush on Aegis. Alright... what happens to Luxan souls when they die?
A: You know your’re doing well in life when a goddess has a crush on you.
Luxan have a variety of beliefs about the afterlife and none of them are good. Most Luxan’s are staunch materialists believing that the soul/spirit doesn’t exist. Other’s think it’s a sort of energy all creatures possess like a gravitational field which can be manipulated.

Those who think it doesn’t exist, belive their is nothing after death except ignominy and nonexistence.
Others think this spiritual energy or “soul” remains in the body like how a dead body still has a weak gravitational pull. For those Luxan’s cremation is preferred otherwise the soul is stuck in a corpse.
Even those Luxan’s who believe in a more conditional soul that ascends to the afterlife are cynical. These Luxan’s believe that all soul’s (whether they belonged to Hitler or Gandhi) are sucked to the infinitely massive spiritual black hole that is the Throne of Chaos. Souls caught in the schwarzschild radius of the Throne of Chaos are trapped in a state of absolute pain and madness comparable to hell.

[Fvaarniimar]

I think the funniest part about that smackdown was that no powers save the ability to lug around a purse of rocks were involved.

Tilt: He's read a few of them, they're somewhat interesting, but the really exciting bit is that he owns a complete set of real, physical books - and someone gave him that! He does wonder if it might be a secret admirer. They're read almost in one long stretch, cover to cover with breaks to snack and nap - save for his paw turning pages it's easy to mistake him for a pillow. He rereads them often, tucking them carefully away when not in use.

As for the Hobbes bit? Sure, he'll make the comparison, but he acknowledges that in his reality it is fictitious. More than anything, he's motivated to stretch his imagination - not on his own, but when he and friends grow bored.

On a similar note, Swith: Nick has certainly wished to be human, but not very seriously. At this point, he's quite used to being a cat; adapting would be tough.

[Chedastan]

Tilt -

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was very pleased to finally be moving into the intriguing Building he had heard so much about from diplomatic tales of far and wide. Being the scholarly and adventurous sort, it was obvious that he had little choice but to investigate, and was in fact sorely looking forward to taking a break from running his beloved homeland, The Unstoppable Badlands of Dictatoria, the greatest authoritarian regime the world had ever known.

Ah yes, Dictatoria. There was nothing about the fatherland that one could not pride themselves over from within or envy from afar. Every citizen young and old was enthralled in thorough devotion to their leader, himself, and, well, why wouldn't they be? Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third was a suave, dark, learned gentleman who was never caught off guard or perplexed, always walking about with a self-assured smile upon his lips and even had the decency to refrain from sighing whenever he calmly explained his superiority to upstarts. There was no question for which he didn't have the answer, no atrocity or battle plan with which he did not regard with total casualness, no extreme he did not see as merely an everyday reality of walking in his shoes. He was the man that Hitler and Napoleon and Stalin's bastard three-way love baby conceived in a mass grave on Halloween night aspired to be, and he looked damn good in a suit while doing it.

There was no dinner he attended that did not end in the successful invasion of the country hosted. His generals walked about with so many buttons and medals attached to their coats that he had to invest in cybernetic enhancements just so they could walk from one place to another. Men tripped over one another and punched babies for a chance to enter his eleventh official super soldier program thus far. Citizens were trained to walk in lockstep goose march everywhere from birth. His jeep had missiles that could destroy submarines. He had thirty nukes for every man, woman, and child. He had super undetectable satellite technology that spied on every household on the planet so he knew everything. He could turn into a wolf made of shadows and fire. He order genocides on superfrankguy173 from steam who trolled over the chat WHAT THEFU objectively impure people, because although he had never bothered to read any of Darwin's works, he had watched the Discovery channel a few times and was pretty sure they said that they deserved it for not being as strong and badass as him or something. It was science that he was better than you, you silly pacifistic crybabies! Ohohohoho! LAUNCH THE NUKES!

And all of Bielefeld was going to see that.

"Please sign here," Volker slid over the forms.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I conquered an entire dimension when I was only fifteen years old?" Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third asked with a smug yet calm smile, adjusting one of his medals. "They declared me the God of Fear and Destruction from their prophecies, but really, it was just a regular Tuesday testing about the newest-"

"That's nice, sir. Would you please sign?"

And so he did, loudly and proudly singing his nation's anthem as he did. Ah, finally his vacation could begin! Perhaps first he could mingle with the natives here? There wasn't a time he could remember when complete strangers weren't entertained listening to him talk for hours on end about how amazing his country was without interruption or break. Why, if they seemed nice enough, he might even let them have the honor of being intimidated with one of his guns! Everyone loved being demonstrated to how objectively less awesome than someone else they were! He had a feeling he was going to be quite the popular character here.

Not many people seemed to be out and about currently though, unfortunately, which was somewhat understandable given how early in the day it was. Listening carefully though, the leader thought he caught onto a conversation, and quickly made his way toward the source. The chatter lead him out onto the outside patio, where from his perspective, he glimpsed the backside of a little girl with white hair dressed in pink sitting at a table covered in a tea party set-up.

A sweet little girl! Those were always easy to impress. He could use a naive, charming admirer to demonstrate his fatherly side upon.

It was in walking towards the girl that something else entered his vision that made his heart stop: It was grey. It had four legs. It had wings. It had wide, expressive eyes filled with the basic calculation known only to sapience.

A ponyyyyyyyyyy...

The leader felt shooting pain fly up his legs as his knees hit the hard floorboards and he desperately tried to gag back the vomit that was building up in his esophagus. He flipped his head back and howled a great roar before punching several holes in the walls and floor around him and eating the bills that Demens rained on him. A PONY. HERE. HOW. WHAT. WHY. NO.

HE WOULD NOT STAND FOR THIS.

"And that's why I think people are just way too hard on kitsch," Giovenith wrapped up her explanation to Willow while stirring her tea. "I know we want to avoid giving too much credit to more vapid works, but at the same time, we can't assume something is vapid just because it's happy for the sake of being happy, y'know?"

"Mmmm," Willow dabbed at the lingering crumbs of chocolate cake around his mouth with a napkin. "I see where you're coming from, but you have to take into account the known effect that commercialization can have on-"

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU!!!" a savage cry suddenly captured both artists' attention. They simultaneously snapped their heads to see a strange man dressed in gaudy, overdecorated military garb marching towards them, his fists clenched so tightly veins were popping out and an absolutely maniacal grin on his face. A single finger snapped at Willow. "YOU! YOU thought you could escape me here! BUT YOU WERE WRONG! HA HA!"

Giovenith turned to give a concerned look to her roommate. "Willow, you know him?"

"No...?" Willow said, looking back at her with an equally confused look.

"Oh, you do not know me..." Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third hissed while climbing atop their picnic table. "But I know YOU! I've seen your smoopy-woopy-coochy-foochy-cutesy-wootsy-mootsy-slimy PATHETIC face a million times beneath my boot!" He demonstrated by deliberating smashing his foot into what was left of their chocolate cake, smearing it all over the table cloth.

"Hey!" Giovenith cried, visibly distressed.

"What the hell's your problem?!" Willow put his hooves on the table and lifted himself up slightly.

"Don't come onto me, sun-worshiping heathen scum!" the leader of Dictatoria roughly shoved the stallion back into his seat with surprising force. "I am Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third! Conqueror of lands, epitome of the superiority of evil over good!" He fanned out his arms in sublime pose. "And if there is one thing I hate more than democracy and vegans, it's sapient equine slime like YOU!"

Giovenith gasped but Willow just raised an eye skeptically while rubbing the place where the leader had shoved his arm.

"You picked three things out of the entire world to hate the most, and you chose democracy, vegans, and ponies?" he asked.

"Yes!" the leader smiled simply, relaxing and straightening out his posture. "Allow me to explain..." He began to pace back and forth on the table, seemingly ignorant of all the cups and plates he was smashing and knocking over. "It's a man's world out there, and as such, it stands to simple reason that those who deserve to inherit it are those who best understand what it takes to reign as the apex. HOOWAH!" He struck a pose. "FIGHTING." He struck another pose. "STEEL." He struck another pose. "And of course, the proper physique!"

Willow wiped a smear of frosting the leader's posing had kicked in his face. "What is, 'the proper physique'?"

The leader scoffed. "Well it isn't obvious! Look at us..." He gestured between Giovenith and himself, the former of whom wasn't too happy to be grouped in with him. "... and look at you!"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Well for starts," he wiggled his fingers demonstrably. "We have hands, you silly moron. We can hold things, build and use tools, oppose our thumbs! You can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can hol-"

"SECONDLY!" the leader continued. "We are much taller. We can also swim, and climb, and fight!"

"So can-"

"NO TALKING WHILE I'M TALKING! Worst of all is your simpleton species philosophies," he scoffed. "Friendship? Magic? Happiness? Wasting your lives away in pursuit of childish ass tattoos and coddling the weak, flitter-flatter on your dainty little wings and do some levitation with sparkly pink magic? LOOK AT YOU! JUST LOOK AT YOU!!! Need I say more?"

"You're really starting to piss me off," Willow pointed slightly at him, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah!" Giovenith rose to her friend's defense. "Willow can do a lot of those things you just said! And just because him and the ponies value nice things doesn't make them dumb or bad!"

Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third rolled his eyes and wiggled his fingers condescendingly. "Oooooooooo, I'm SO scared of a tiny little girl and an eternal-baby horse! I didn't know I'd be facing off against Rainbow Brite and Starlight! Do you even know what I do to your kind?" he sneered, leaning in towards Willow, who sighed.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us," the pony rolled his eyes and propped his cheek on a hoof.

The ruler of Dictatoria smiled evilly and chuckled. "No, I'm going to show you." His hands flew to the front of his coat and ripped it open. "BOOM, BOY!!" The entire inside lining of his jacket was made from the pelts of flanks, the once-cheery cutie marks grimly brimming back at the pony, and clacking was heard as stringed horns and wing bones dangled about within.

"AHHHH!" Giovenith cried.

"Pffft, that could be fake," Willow dismissed, ever the Scully.

"Oh my actual god, Willow," the godling growled, attention momentarily diverted from the horror scene.

"Well," Emperor King Lord Sir General Nuke McBadass NotHitlerButHitler Awesome the Third reached further into his coat. "Is THIS fake?!" And he pulled out a bigass, heavy gun of indeterminable type and aimed it directly at Willow's face.

"SWEET CELESTIA!" the male artist finally gasped in genuine fear, pinning his ears and bringing his hooves to his mouth.

"YEAH I BET YOU THINK CELESTIA IS SWEET!" The dictator grinned. "Say good-bye, sugar-shit-"

CRASH! Pink porcelain shards and searing hot tea exploded against the back of the leader's head, causing him to fall forward (assisted by the massive weight of his gun), Willow flying out of the way just in time to avoid being squished. The gun landed to the side of him with a loud boom and the leader cried out in pain as his face scraped the pavement. He quickly got up to try and figure out what had just happened.

"Wh-"

THWAP! The wide length of a heavy red purse with a flower clip collided into the side of his face. It's strap was wielded by Giovenith, who was standing above the tyrant looking about as frighteningly furious as a teenage girl dressed in pink could. Willow stood off some feet behind her, ears folded and body crouched slightly in astonishment and concern.

"You are a bad, bad man!" Giovenith yelled, nailing the dictator with the purse again. "How DARE you threaten my little pony like that! You should be ashamed of yourself!" She swiped the purse at him yet again. It knuckled into his cheek and snapped his chin to the left, leaving a dark bruise in its place.

The leader yelped in pain. "What the hell is in there?!"

Giovenith blinked, but still looked cross. "My pet rocks!" Another strike. "They're mad at what you said to Willow too! Apologize!" Strike.

"Are you insane?!" the man tried to block her strikes with his hands, but to little avail. "I'm not apologizing to some pathetic fucking- OW!!"

"You will apologize!" Giovenith added an extra arm to the strap to give her beating more momentum. "He may belong to Celestia but I blessed him with my favor! You don't touch him without invoking my wrath!" The young goddess' wrath came down again, leaving a daisy-shaped bruise against the leader's forehead.

"You won't know the meaning of wrath until I'm done with- OW, MY EYE!!" One of the buckles nailed him right in the peeper.

So this continued, with the once-mighty Dictator Among Dictators falling in classical tragedy form for his hubris in overstepping the patience of the gods. God. Five-foot-two Godling. Same deal. Giovenith may not have been ready to reign down curses and disaster on those who displeased her and molested her mortal favorites, but it was far from true that she did not have ways of making that displeasure known. And it was that fact that caused Willow to slowly stand full height again and erect his ears, slowly giving a lopsided smile as he watched true friendship prove itself once again in the most absurd way possible.

This is amazingly great Gio! I needed a good read.

[Cerillium]

Qs:

Tilt's: How would the cultists (of all various sects) define sanity?
Swith did a damn good job defining it. Much better than what I was going to say:

"Insanity: in a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior, or social interaction; seriously mentally ill." - Websters

"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." - Nietzsche.

The sane can not hear the music. They are fettered by societal norms and thinking. They no longer retain their inner child... truly childlike, where all the world can be explained away as "fairies" or "magical ladybugs" while sitting in a park and chewing on clover buds. Sanity says logic dictates what is possible or not possible. Insanity does thirteen impossible things before breakfast. To lose one's sanity is to become liberated from the conscious to dabble in the whispering tides of the subconscious.

Yeah. I'll roll with that.

Torsi's: Klaus's favorite non-cultist? And What does Volker do to pass time at the desk? What does FUBAR honestly think about Tora?
Klaus has a few favorites.

Giovenith reminded him of Sophie for the longest time. But there's more. Giovenith is a god. There are precious few in PL that aren't Chaos. As a Chaos god - a dark one at that - he actually looks to her. He studies her approach to things. He studies her behavior. He's making an effort to reconcile the human life he was forced to live (long back story) with the restoration of his powers. Gods are gods. They are what they were made to be and, for him, made from the stuff that keeps them in power.

He likes MB. The rabbit is just as quirky as he is. MB seems to understand that humor can be as powerful as other forces. Love and hate are strong, but humor can strip away the elements essential to both. It's the picture falling off the wall right before the long-awaited first kiss. It's the draw of the blade that goes afoul when the scabbard detaches from the belt.

He likes Katya. She has great potential as a leader but she's too young yet. She's more engrossed with things that are fleeting rather than on things which successful leaders focus on. Give her time, and she'll do well.

NA's: If you were to make a pony character, What race would it be and its talent? (first thing that came to mind lol)
A pegasus, naturally. He'd be a gearhead, thus his cutiemark would be gears and sparks. "Listen, we can build a flying boat that goes into space. I'm serious!"

Fvaar's: What sort of bedtime stories did Thaddeus tell? If that isn't applicable, what sort of bedtime rituals/routines did he and Marcus share when the latter was younger?
He was too absorbed in his work. In the dead of night, while the boy slept, he'd stand at the door and watch over him for a while. Perhaps come into the room to draw the blanket to the lad's chin before softly ruffling his hair.

Swith's: Where did Klaus get the Todesfall, and what happened to it when he and the Men were brought to PL?
He won it off Barksby in a card game. It's still in PL but never used. Wasn't any sense during the Drone Invasion (would have been too much godmod). Still no sense to it now unless we need a ship. Minerva's can handle Time so it's the better choice.

Min's: If you had to pick, who would Fritz resemble?
Close to Marlon Brando, perhaps. His old pic from a dead RP was of Claus von Stauffenberg's bust.

Mon's: What kind of music to the cultists listen to? Like not just the old timey stuff from their era, but all of it.
The Men all listen to Germanized American jazz. It's part of their ritual and keeps them grounded in sanity. Klaus and Fritz both love opera and the classical compositions, and they'll waste hours arguing over whose work was best while enjoying sherry by the fireside. Neither appreciates many genre of modern music though Klaus loves the sound of a calliope, and sings show tunes as well. Both like military marches. Thad, though not a cultist, likes techno, particularly anything with heavy drops. He's also a Patsy Cline fan, and her music is mixed with songs like White Rabbit and Irish ballads while working.

I'll formulate questions for people tomorrow. Today was long.

How about a generic one for all?

Your character is standing in front of a fast-approaching death. Curse, spell, plasma round, bus whatever. If they could throw any other Resident (not one of your characters!) in front of that death to save themselves, who would they throw and why?

My answer:
Most of my characters would shove Minerva into harm's way. She'd regenerate or stop the attack by stopping Time, thus buying them time to get their own attack in.

[Tiltjuice]

*beers badger, muffins fennec*

[Highfort]

Sorry I haven't been answering questions. Lemme get through all these at once:

Agy- Would Opa feel sympathy for ED-209?

As of this time, Opa is only capable of expressing outward sympathy for those he has been programmed to protect or who he deduces require protection (or who can help him achieve his goals): civilians, Confederation VIPs and assets, temporary allies, and fellow Confederation soldiers and vigilantes.

He, however, would probably sense the familiarity of ED-209's situation and his own. That might elicit some sort of emotion, though I'm not sure which, if any, he would recognize. He's still very "asleep" in terms of self-awareness and so vague notions of being in a similar situation as ED-209 wouldn't necessarily lead to judgment on Opa's part. As far as he's concerned, ED-209's loyal service to his creators would be considered a positive aspect of its existence, regardless of what its directives were.

But that's mostly because, as a loyal robot, Opa considers loyalty and service to a cause to be the ultimate "good".

Agy: Excepting Sentia as cats are not difficult to live with, with which of your current PL characters would you be least reluctant to share a dorm room?(Effective immediately, ending 1-1-2018.)

Cats are actually quite difficult to live with depending on their disposition toward you. My uncles cats didn't particularly like me at all, probably because I was never at his house very often and they weren't acclimated to me.

As to who I'd least like to live with... Probably Opa. Even though Sentia might prove a pain to live with, there's a wealth of resources online how to care for cats and adapting her to an apartment wouldn't be too bad. She'd just need her own litterbox and an area to be fed separate from the kitchen so I don't piss off the roommates due to cat hair everywhere.

Opa, however, is a giant robot. Housing his charging station would probably be a pain in the ass, especially given that I'm living with four other people in my apartment. And dealing with his bulk would be hard, since we'd probably have to get the landlord to modify the doorways and ceiling heights to fit him. That's not even talking about teaching him how to interact with regular people - and teaching regular people to interact with them!

It would be hell on top of my schedule, so Opa would definitely be my least-favorite roommate.

Agy: What happens to Confed citizens who have severe allergic reactions to their augmentations? To the alloys, etc? Are they shunned?

They receive gene therapy in order to acclimate to their augmentations. Most of them are caught when they're young, since they're tested at birth for any allergies or genetic mutations that may cause issues later in life. No one is shunned for an allergy, since it's not difficult to fix.

However, should someone refuse augmentation, the consequences are grave. Refusal of augmentation falls into either spiritualist beliefs or luddite behavior. Anti-technology spiritualism is legal, but shunned in most sectors of the Confederation. Most end up working in the lower dredges of society due to their inability to keep up with their augmented brothers and sisters.

Luddites who join anti-technology rebels or who support Aesfrustumite raids are branded as criminals and actively hunted by the government. Those who choose to remain in the Confederation peacefully are allowed to live, but are treated with suspicion and oftentimes lynched when an anti-technology attack is launched. They are seen as synonymous with the enemy, despite pleas from both civilians and government officials that they should be treated the same as anyone else. Like their spiritualist brothers and sisters, they have difficulty rising up the ranks due to being unable to keep up with their augmented counterparts and often end up in the lower classes of society.

Agy: what is Opa's relationship with the other cyborgs/androids?

Do you mean in the Building or in-general? He sees the Residents in the Building as temporary allies - a means to an end - and thus would treat them with a general sense of pleasantness and politeness. But he doesn't attach himself much to anyone, even people like himself.

And even referring to Opa as "him" is a stretch. As a combat android, he still operates under his programming. That's why in the IC I refer to him as "it", though this slips from time to time. Eventually Opa will develop a personality of his own - or her own, or its own, I haven't decided whether Opa would accept gender constructs or think about whether it has a gender - but right now it generally doesn't maintain what people would refer to as friendly relationships.

Opa's probably closest to Thaddeus and Marcus, since he considers them his best chance to gaining access to and rejoining the Confederation. Additionally, Marcus' association with Septimus makes the boy particularly intriguing as he's the closest thing Opa has to a "comrade" in Gallimaufry.

Agy: if the Processor was a character of its own, now separated from Sep, what would it's main priority be?

It's main priority would be accomplishing the directives that Brutus set to it. Septimus' Processor exists for one purpose and one purpose only: to assist Septimus in achieving the will of the Confederation.

In many ways, it's impossible to imagine the Processor as a character of its own. Even separate from Septimus, it would still be a puppet, a mere extension of Brutus' will. Unlike Opa, whose goals permit him some level of autonomy since he's designed to adapt to various law-enforcement situations, the Processor has been given clear-cut objectives with little ability to deviate in order to succeed at them.

[Mincaldenteans]

How about a generic one for all?

Your character is standing in front of a fast-approaching death. Curse, spell, plasma round, bus whatever. If they could throw any other Resident (not one of your characters!) in front of that death to save themselves, who would they throw and why?

My answer:
Most of my characters would shove Minerva into harm's way. She'd regenerate or stop the attack by stopping Time, thus buying them time to get their own attack in.

I'd throw MB in, bunny saves the day!

Side note: My post can either be edited to end the demonstration quickly or I can wait for replies. I wasn't sure which but figured it was high time we get it over with, so just let me know -nodnods-

[Giovenith]

I win!

Now where's the humanized Willow one.

Crammed between a paragraphs-long adventure in ponyland for five people, saving Klaus, character wikis, the drawings needed for the PL site, and the other oneshots that were requested.

Here's a sta.sh preview.

[Monfrox]

Now where's the humanized Willow one.

Crammed between a paragraphs-long adventure in ponyland for five people, saving Klaus, character wikis, the drawings needed for the PL site, and the other oneshots that were requested.

Here's a sta.sh preview.

Sheesh. For someone who isn't a novelist, you sure do write a lot of stuff. I still say you should try writing a book. I bet it'd be fantastic.

[The New Velociraptor Empire]

How about a generic one for all?

Your character is standing in front of a fast-approaching death. Curse, spell, plasma round, bus whatever. If they could throw any other Resident (not one of your characters!) in front of that death to save themselves, who would they throw and why?

My answer:
Most of my characters would shove Minerva into harm's way. She'd regenerate or stop the attack by stopping Time, thus buying them time to get their own attack in.

"Whoever is closest, and if someone is upset about it I'll just make a shiny new clone replacement." ~Neil

"Anyone close by except Willow, it would be like matter and anti-matter meeting or more accurately my claws would melt off trying to move him and I'd die anyways." ~Gretta

"I'd throw myself in, I couldn't live with myself if I let someone die in my place." ~Fortu

[Giovenith]

Crammed between a paragraphs-long adventure in ponyland for five people, saving Klaus, character wikis, the drawings needed for the PL site, and the other oneshots that were requested.

Here's a sta.sh preview.

Sheesh. For someone who isn't a novelist, you sure do write a lot of stuff. I still say you should try writing a book. I bet it'd be fantastic.

My mom once told me that if I manage to become a novelist with actual success she will stop caring about college.