Recent Statuses

27 May 2017 21:59
Current I inexplicably feel rubbish as of a couple of hours ago. I need to go out more often, I think.
27 May 2017 17:33
Technically, the USA and Russia are responsible for ISIS. This is, of course, why America should be made Great Britain again.
1 like
27 May 2017 12:05
What starts as a vicious cycle rapidly becomes a whirlwind. Have you been experiencing vicious whirlwinds? Leave a note for yourself next time.
25 May 2017 22:13
Well, it wasn't intended as an insult.
25 May 2017 22:05
Honestly, Oph, I thought you were a girl until you brought up the incubus thing and I checked your profile. Huh.


Hello, I am me from the internet. I migrated here from Kongregate's Forum Games Forum, so feel free to look for me there if you wish to follow a career in internet stalking people.

Most Recent Posts

@Lugubrious ...ssssooooo, I guess I'm just having Motley do whatever, then, is that what's happening with this update?
@Andreyich I'm fine with whatever myself; I just think if you're basing your choice off of who's the most rational, you should consider carefully.
@Andreyich You mean the one who just freaked out due to one of her allies dying and tried to kill a bunch of Guardsmen who may or may not have had valuable information or even been heretics? I mean, you do you, but I wouldn't exactly class that as "sane".
@Andreyich Just waiting for you to make your choices, Confessor. If the posting order matters, I mean.
Well, at least figuring out who had made the offer for the troll quite simple. The day's heat wasn't fun to deal with in a costume as large as Nuva's, and water was occasionally scarce. At least, sources that he could drink from in private. Nonetheless, he had his wits about him, and he had a troll to hunt for. He trod up toward the man in question, sizing him up from behind his mask, and out of a habit born from his few years as a bodyguard noting the sort of threat he might pose as a client. Presumably none, if he lacked magic or Khala, for he couldn't hope to match Nuva's elven grace or giant strength. And, well, none at all if he was a mere civilian. But he'd learned that you couldn't be too careful about these things.

'I'm here about a troll,' Nuva muttered, quietly enough to not be overheard, again just in case. The magic shop ought to be what it claimed to be, for regardless of its rattiness it had still been a shop; this man could be the man who had posted the bounty, or he could be somebody with a personal grudge against Nuva. Or, if he had enough foresight, both. At least one person had traced his past before. That proved it could be done at all. Better safe than sorry.

@Fetzen So did you want Sett to backstab the Rog, or should I wait until PH confirms his not being spotted?
Alessa Heather: PRT Headquarters

Well, that was certainly going to be awful for Ira. She reminded herself that, yes, the girl needed to practice, but wasn't this going a bit far for somebody who was in essence an unskilled fighter? Not to mention utterly human aside from her usual powerset - there was no way for even a highly-trained human to so much as fend off a powerful Brute such as Protean unarmed, let alone a Cape whose primary power had nothing to do with battle whatsoever.

But for the sake of the testing, she attempted to wrestle down her urge to leap in and assist Ira, continuing her run at a much more rapid pace than before. There was hardly room to intervene, and if no powers was still in effect, well, her training in Krav Maga was as good as useless anyway against such a beast. And what a pity that was...

Raymond Haywood: Highway Robbery

After much cutting and sawing, Raymond finally emerged from the steel net, largely unscathed but nonetheless alive. Whilst various portions of his body did still ache, he figured he'd recover soon enough... more relevant to the present situation, though, was the man he'd just knocked unconscious. That did need to be dealt with, unfortunately, and he didn't have the anatomical knowledge to just... get rid of a specific portion of his brain with a bullet. Even his smallest caliber weapon would at best put the man in hospital, and at worst... either way, he imagined shooting somebody in the head would make him an instant target for the Protectorate.

Speaking of which, that is technically exactly what he'd just done. And as far as erasing evidence went... well, the unwritten rules suggested that revealing another Cape's identity was out of the question. He'd just have to hope that Morales' concussion would help eliminate most of his memory of the past few minutes, alongside the hope that the damage to the helmet could be attributed to blank rounds... but it wasn't like that matters when there were several live bullets scattered around the place. Well, sometimes you just had to say "screw it".

As events played out down below, Headhunter first put his weapon back in its holster, then gathered the few shell casings he'd left behind, first from around his current position, and then back up at the top of the hill to gather the three larger casings, that being a short enough climb anyway. Then, he headed down toward his teammates. From what they and their target, Gamble, was discussing, it sounded like they were planning on getting out of there reasonably soon. But, they ought to leave a calling card of some sort... and as it happened, there blew a scrap of paper. Snatching it out of the air, Raymond used the tip of his knife to quickly scratch a note reading "Courtesy of The Jacks", before folding it neatly and tucking it into a pocket on Noble's outfit, sticking out just far enough to be noticable when she awoke.

And at last, chancing one final glance over toward what may as well have been Love Craft's tomb- he reminded himself to figure out what the hell had happened there, or at least to ask Broker about it- as well as what appeared to be Arsenal's vengeance against an unconscious PRT soldier, the cold sniper followed after Chatterbox, ensuring he had his eye on Gamble the whole time, just in case the punk tried to do anything... unwise.
@agentmanatee Alright, my bad. Here's me going on about excessive action, and then completely forget very important individuals... so expect an edit shortly.

EDIT: ...actually, I need to discuss the sequence of events with you and @Sophrus. If you mind my making a PM between us?
@Necroes@Wraithblade6 I honestly thought they were just drones. Completely skipped my mind that he had actual Space Marines with him to help out... and, uh, that scuppers the whole post, doesn't it? So unless @agentmanatee is alright with what I've provided, I do in fact need to make an edit. Your call, though, manatee.

Worth noting about Space Marines is that, aside from the logistics behind preventing galaxy-wide heretical events, being limited to just 1000 members at a time is a really massive limitation even for a pack of superhumans when the armies of your foes regularly number in the tens or even hundreds of thousands, if not more. Tyranids aren't dangerous because they pack a bunch of massively tough heavy hitters (excepting the non-canon Hive Fleet Nidhoggr); they're dangerous because they can send literally millions of creatures with no survival instinct of their own to swarm everything, each with varying and specialised purposes. (In theory anyway. Try telling that to crunch.) Orks are similar, but at least understand that if they die, it means no more fighting, which is no fun after all, and they're also more prone to using a larger number of bulky beasts and oversized mechanised constructs.
At last, his ritual was completed, and for a few moments, Sett held back, observing the handiwork of his god... whatever that was. And from the looks of things, that was quite a big positive input! Things appeared to be going well for his allies, anyway. Perhaps that would change shortly, but for now...

For now, he had to find some other way of making himself useful. And much as he really, really didn't want to go toe-to-toe with any number of those entities... well, maybe Fineki would smile upon him, allow him to sidle around the group and get to the most important areas of the fight, where he could take out the leaders. Stealthily. Not the troll though, that was already being handled nicely.

And on the other hand, that heavily-armoured Rog approaching the Scay-lie seemed like a much juicier target... did valdium cut through armour plating as well as magical flesh? Damn him for not knowing these things off by heart! But, why would he need valdium when good old iron was more than sufficient when applied to a significant weak spot, like a joint, or its neck? Drawing his dagger, he gradually trod toward the Rog in question, keeping an eye open in case any of its fellows decided to charge him, and making damn sure the thing's attention was focused on his good friend the Skay-lay instead of him, for why draw attention to yourself... when you can not?

@POOHEAD189@The Fated Fallen@Sypherkhode822@Banana@Fetzen
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