E.L.F, Extraterrestrial Lifeform

Reader mode
Y'know what I'd like to see? A guy with an Ork Weird Boy stuck in his head, who basically warp-headbutts Taylor when she starts getting carried away on some half-assed sheem. The genetic knowledge of how their powers work would be extremely useful, if excessively dumbed down because Ork.

Anyway, fun little idea. Maybe an omake if anybody else feels like writing it. That's all. Ta-ta for now.
 
Warp Primer by Nothing_to_see_here
  • Informational
    • With the permission given by Shujin, I'm going to be writing a little Layman's guide to the Warp for all the non 40k fans reading this.

    So, understand I'm not a complete expert, I'm sure I'll miss 'important' bits that have some vital piece of info from xth edition rulebook or from x character saying x line from x book. This isn't gonna be super comprehensive, it will be a simple summarized version. It's not gonna have everything. There are plenty of videos and sources online that do more comprehensive stuff on the subject, so if you want more info after this, go check those out.

    Without further ado, let's start.

    THE WARP
    Simplest version is that it is an alternate dimension connected to our own. Where thoughts and feelings (both conscious and subconscious) can become real, physical, tangible things. For a normal person, even looking at The Warp would leave you a gibbering mess, and that's if your eyes didn't burn out from it. If you could actually articulate what you saw after looking, your closest description or comparison would be a literally Hell. Because The Warp is Hell. I'm not exaggerating, the whole idea of Hell is from normal people having brief glances and visions of The Warp in dreams and such. And it's everyone's fault that it's like that.
    What does that mean? Well take that thing I said about thoughts and feelings manifesting themselves in The Warp, and then remember all those times you've felt, oh I don't know, angry? Euphoric? Apathetic? Devious or Cunning? All the times you've ever felt a negative emotion throughout your WHOLE life.
    Now apply that to all of humanity for our ENTIRE history. All of it. Especially the bad parts.
    Now perhaps you get an idea of why it is a hellscape. For a normal person, any kind of exposure to the energy from this hellscape would burn out your eyes as previously stated, but it also might just horrifically mutate you or burn you to a crisp. But what about Taylor? Taylor is special, Taylor is a psyker. What's a psyker? They're someone who can use The Warp the same way you'd use a nine volt.
    In standard Warhammer 40k, using even the simplest powers is like trying to maneuver a rowboat through a hurricane. While also trying to not get eaten by a herd of frenzied sharks. Here it's different, whether that is because we aren't in 40k or if it has something to do with the entities is for others to speculate. The fact that it isn't a hellish nightmare is the reason why Taylor is so OP PLZ NERF, she isn't having to fight against the 'current', conditions and not nearly as many sharks as the average psyker would normally have to.

    DAEMONS
    There are daemons in The Warp. Actual, literal, daemons that want to eat your soul (or at least what you could call a soul). Why? It tastes good and gives them a power boost. Double so for normal psykers.
    Taylor isn't normal psyker and this makes her the equivalent of the most delicious and expensive dessert that will also grant you three wishes after eating it. Thankfully she doesn't have too much to worry about. Why?
    Because, this isn't 40k
    In 40k there are 'Gods' in The Warp that all align with certain intensive, raw emotions and concepts, easiest example is Khorne, The Blood God. He aligns with rage, hate, war, and of course bloodshed. Khorne has all sorts of little daemons that sort of leech off his power, the intelligence of these smaller daemons ranges from dog level to human level. The smarter ones being aligned to him, the others being more just random lumps of flesh and teeth, like our friend from the story.
    Since, again, this isn't 40k, Taylor doesn't have to worry about anything around human intelligence coming after her, just ones with a dog like intellect.
    Mind you, some dogs are really smart. And even the 'dumb' daemons are gonna see in opportunity with burnt out Taylor.

    This is an addition help explain what happened at the end of the fight.
    GOLDEN
    So what's going on with the plane? Simply put, that is what happens when you get exposed to The Warp, you get horrible deforming mutations and you get daemonic possession, the only way to solve it is to do what Scion did and BURN EVERYTHING. And then probably avoid the area for a good long while. Anything coming out of The Warp is hardy, so there is a non-zero percent chance that even with Scion intervention, there may be side effects if people move right back into the area. What those side effects are is hard to say, could range from deformed kids, prophetic dreams, increased sensitivity to The Warp, any combo of the above or literally almost anything else. The Warp is nuts like that.
    Now for the ships...
    Okay so this is going to involve a bit more 40k stuff than I was hoping to include, I'll try to keep it brief, but I may go into a bit too much detail. Sorry.
    So in 40k people travel through The Warp.
    Yes you read that right, they travel through hell to get places.
    Sometimes however, a ship may go into The Warp but not come out of it. In which case the ship will drift through The Warp for hundreds if not thousands of years and the crew may inevitably just die off from something breaking or running out of food. So as this ship is drifting it may collide with another drifting ship and then those two ships will fuse together, and then those two combined wrecks will drift and collide with a third wreck, then fourth, a fifth, a sixth, etc. etc.. Inevitably you wind up with giant moving ship graveyard drifting though The Warp, like a hulk of some kind. In space. A Space Hulk, if you will.
    So after one of these Space Hulks forms, it'll occasionally shift back into our dimension at random times and locations. And this is generally seen as a bad and good thing.
    Bad because sometimes the crews of some of those ships won't be dead and instead will be horribly mutated like the plane passengers and they'll WANT OFF of the Space Hulk, or the Space Hulk will have Orks on it, because everything in 40k has Orks on it to some degree. Or there'll be GeneStealers which are there own special nightmare.
    Good because there are all sorts of goodies and treasures on board the Space Hulks from hundreds or thousands of years ago, and very often anyone and everyone will want a piece of that action. How well that goes for them varies, but generally they get some shinies in exchange for a couple hundred or thousand dead scavengers. At minimum.
    So back to the story, Taylor appears to have sheared off part of a Space Hulk when The Simurgh created a Warp Storm, and now it appears that there are pieces of an Eldar ship laying around. Which is.... big.
    Like Huge. Eldar once ruled the galaxy, and their technology is super advanced, Taylor has had a taste of what Eldar can produce. Jetbikes are practically nothing.

    This may be edited later to include information or corrections pointed out to me that I've missed, but I think this is comprehensive enough while still being readable to the average person wit no prior knowledge on the subject.
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  • Informational
    • Eldar Primer by Nothing_to_see_here
  • Informational
    • With permission granted by Shujin, I will once again attempt to streamline and explain the complex lore of 40k. This is gonna be a multi part one about Eldar history and some of their technology that's been brought up in the past on this story.

    With that in mind, let's jump right in.

    THE WAR IN HEAVEN

    So this conflict was the very first conflict in 40k, but since it's details are sparse and the Eldar are only present for the latter half of it, I'll give a brief summary of the first half.
    The War in Heaven was fought between the oldest and most powerful species in the galaxy the (brace yourself) Old Ones, a race of Toadmen with what could be called min/maxed psychic powers and tech to do whatever their powers couldn't. On the other side of the conflict were the aggressors the relatively young race called the Necrontyr, or Necrons for short. The war was started because the Necron's leader wanted to unify the race against an exterior threat in the wake of a number of civil wars and internal power disputes, so what better enemy than the most powerful race in the galaxy?
    This went as well as could be predicted.
    So with the Necrons being pushed back to the edge if the galaxy they found some new...allies. let's call them that. Yes.
    The entities C'Tan a species of space whales 'star gods' who fed on solar radiation and had a variety of reality bending and physics breaking powers were 'recruited' by the Necrons to fight alongside them in the war.
    Alongside their new allies the Necrons also converted the whole of their population into SOULLESS UNDEAD ROBOT SKELETONS by removing their souls and then coating them in a new living metal that made them all nigh unkillable.

    With these developments the war shifted against the Old Ones and its here where the Eldar enter the story.
    The Old Ones, now losing the war, began to alter, and in some cases create entirely new species to fight the Necrons for them. It's not know if the Eldar were outright created by the Old Ones or merely altered to suit the Old Ones needs, but regardless, the Eldar were now involved in the conflict. And at some point in the war the Eldar developed a psychic resonant material which they called wraithbone which was actually turning out to be REALLY good at 'killing' robot skeletons, so once this material was introduced and the Old Ones found methods to start at least nullifying the advantage provided by the C'Tan, the war once again shifted towards the Old Ones/Eldar.

    It was at this point the Necrons decided a civil war would be a GREAT IDEA. So they did that and it went as well as expected considering the war they were already losing was still going. Then they said "FUCK IT" and retreated back to the planets they still owned and settled into a bunch of underground tombs for a nice long nap.
    So the Old Ones win, right?
    Well, yes. But actually, no.
    Some sources (Necron Sources) say that the Necron completely annihilated the Old Ones. Other sources say that there are a few Old Ones still in hiding waiting to come back. But as of now, they are gone from the galaxy, either dead or in hiding.

    This left the Eldar in a unique position, as they were on a war footing, with no challengers and a LOT of advanced tech left behind by the Old Ones just BEGGING to be used. Which gives me a great segway to the next thing I wanted to talk about in this first part...

    WEBWAY

    The webway was the Eldar's transportation network, or rather it was the Old Ones transportation network and the Eldar just stole it took control of it when the Old Ones became irrelevant.
    The webway itself could be imagined as a series of tunnels that go through to warp interconnected with each other with various exit points all over the galaxy.
    It is FAR superior to normal warp travel as you not only wont have to worry about being stuck in the warp for centuries, but there wont be any eldritch horrors constantly hovering outside your ships shields waiting to get in and slaughter you all.
    The webway is completely demon proof. Or it was.
    More on that later.
    Since its still technically in The Warp it's crazy but it is at least consistent in its crazy. Like, certain sections may have their own rules of physics but at the very least those rules will be the same whenever you go there.
    The Webway was so huge they actually built a whole fucking city inside of it. Powered and lit by a number of artificial suns. The level of bullshit the Eldar could achieve at this point is nuts.
    This city would become known as the port of Commorragh (Com-O-Ra-Gh), which we will be covering later.
    Bring hand sanitizer for that one.

    So I know this was a bit light on Eldar lore, but this is the early stuff and there isn't a ton of lore about it. I mean, War in Heaven is almost a myth to the Eldar, THAT'S how long ago it was.
    So yes, details will be sparse.

    But next time we'll be covering the Eldar Empire (mostly size, tech, and progression) and The Fall. So that will be fun.
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    Part two, get ready for a ride.

    THE ELDAR EMPIRE

    In the aftermath of the War in Heaven, and with complete control of the Webway and various other pieces of Old One technology, the Eldar were undisputed masters of the galaxy.
    And boy, did their attitude reflect this.
    They used (and actually expanded) the Webway in propagating their empire to any world that caught their eye, even if it had a species already on it.
    Casual genocide, what can ya do?
    Uf it was just some rock that they thought would be a good colony, they'd use their psychic bullshit and advanced tech to make it into a perfect paradise.
    They built MOON sized ships and accompanying flotillas of smaller vessels all out wraithbone to act as their merchant fleet, these ships would become known as craft worlds and they'll be VERY important later, but during the empires heyday kinda got treated like trash and were where all the social pariahs lived.
    I could go on but it basically was just this for ages and ages, Eldar expanding and developing new tech and cultural stuff. Basically it was just a really good time to have pointed ears and a smug attitude.
    Wasn't all sunshine and rainbows though, they did occasionally have to fight. Mostly against Orks, as being the dominant species in the galaxy means dealing with the galaxy's rampant fungus problem. They also had to keep watch on the planets where they knew the Necrons were sleeping, so that if they ever woke up the Eldar would be ready to bitch slap them back to sleep. Then there were several wars against this new upstart race called 'humans' who thought they were the big kids on the block all of a sudden, humans and eldar apparently fought several wars against each other for resources, bit details on these conflicts are practically nonexistent.
    All in all the Eldar Empire peaked out at about 10,000 worlds in their empire, all of them being fairly nice to live on. Even in the Warp the Eldar thought they had dominance, as their pantheon of gods had seemed to established control over the chaotic realm, in reality it was just a small section of the Warp calmed and controlled by the Eldar's gods, the rest was still a fucking nightmare.
    Still, this fed even more into their ego.
    It seemed to the Eldar that their Empire would never fall and would reign eternal.

    THE FALL OF THE ELDAR.

    So the decline of the Eldar started as their culture stagnated and their tech kept advancing. Automation was the real kicker. More and more jobs became automated until the Eldar left fighting their wars to their artificial servants.
    This left a huge portion of the Eldar sitting around with massively inflated egos and nothing to do, so they did what all inhabitants of a galaxy spanning empire with a massive ego, psychic powers, and too much time on their hands does.
    They started pleasure cults.
    To be fair not ALL of the cults were about kinky sex stuff. Some were chasing after forbidden knowledge and power with maybe only a few ritualistic orgies here and there.
    But yes, some of them were entirely about orgies.
    All these, ah, 'good feelings' started to have an effect on the Warp, and when the cults were small it was hardly noticed.
    But then as it got bigger it became quite hard to ignore. Unfortunately there wasn't anything that could be done by the time it hit this point, as the cults had grown in size and influence to the point where many members were part of the 'upper crust' of Eldar society, which gave them LOTS of leeway to do whatever the hell they wanted.
    Eventually Eldar society broke down and public order was a distant memory, with gangs of cultists openly hunting down non cultists to do all sorts of depraved things to, and conflict between cultists and gangs of vigilantes was commonplace.
    It was basically The Purge 24/7.
    Anyone who could run from the urbanized Eldar homeworld and the surrounding colonies was any way they could, as quickly as they could.
    And here the craftworlds come to the rescue, making multiple runs to these worlds and gathering as many refugees as possible and ferrying them to the more rural far flung colonies or accepting them as part of the craftworld's crew.
    Then one day it was a very bad time to have pointed ears and a smug attitude.
    No one knows what happened. Likely no one ever will. One ritual too many, one orgy too many, hell maybe someone just put something in the wrong spot. Who knows. All that's known is thing very rapidly collapsed and lots of things happened at once, so let's go through the chain of events.
    The energy that had been building in the Warp Explodes in spectacular fashion with such force that it TEARS A HOLE IN REALITY. Leaving a gaping wound in existence where the hellish nightmare of the Warp and reality exist as one. This would become known as The Eye of Terror.

    This explosion centered around the Eldar homeworld and the core colonies, and one can presume all those on these worlds died in the blast of raw Warp energy. If not, they died in what came next.
    From this explosion of raw energy came a new god.
    Slaanesh (Slaw-Nesh) the prince of pleasure and excess, or as the Eldar would come to know it, She-who-thirsts. (Quick note, for simplicity, I'll be using female pronouns in reference to Slaanesh, even though in canon the correct terms would be gender neutral and Slaanesh is hermaphroditic from literally head to toe, it's easier, sue me)
    With her birth Slaanesh unleashed a great scream that echoed throughout the Warp.
    Every Eldar on every world in the immediate vicinity to the Eye died, had their souls sucked out and devoured by Slaanesh. To be tortured in the chaos gods gastro intestinal track forevermore.
    Only those Eldar living on the most far flung colonies, the Eldar aboard the craftworlds, and the Eldar city of Commorragh were spared.
    Course it didn't end there.
    Still hungering for more, Slaanesh moved to consume the entire Eldar pantheon.
    And she almost did. Only two gods escaped unscathed by the hungry god.
    This event became known as The Fall.
    And it shapes the Eldar to this day.

    So yes that's Eldar's Empire wrapped up.
    Next time I'll go over the two major Eldar factions and the most current happenings with the Eldar (i.e. 8th Edition).
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  • Informational
    • Dark Eldar Primer by Nothing_to_see_here
  • Informational
    • Alright everyone, we're almost done.

    We're gonna cover the Dark Eldsr first, so grab your lotion, your hand sanitizer, and a brick of space cocaine because we're diving head first into the horrific slave pits of Commorragh.

    DARK ELDAR

    So the Dark Eldar are essentially the closest thing to a continuation of the Empire. In that their culture is pretty much unchanged from what the Empire was like before the Fall with one difference.

    The pre-Fall Eldar did what they did for the hell of it.
    The Dark Eldar do what they do because they NEED to. And for the hell of it.

    The DE put together that due to just being close to the Warp, Slaanesh was still ever so slightly draining away their souls and would inevitably drain them of life. But, being inventive little knife eared pricks, they found a solution.

    Be in close proximity to another sapient being suffering unimaginable amounts of pain.
    This is where you get the DE leaving the webway pretty consistently to raid undefended worlds to wreak havoc and bring back slaves to keep their whole society alive a while longer.

    Course the Webway is falling apart around them so they might as well enjoy themselves.
    Oh yeah, forgot about that.
    So the secrets to maintaining and expanding the Webway was lost with the Fall, so when age takes its toll and a crack appears a daemon could slip through, the DE can't actually fix it and the best they can do is place a huge number of automated turrets and traps in front of it and hope that'll dissuade the hell monsters from coming through, which so far has actually worked so I guess they aren't entirely wrong in doing this.

    Politically Commorragh is a pit of vipers. I don't need to go into detail here just imagine Game of Thrones but a thousand times more back stabby and poisony. Really only mention I'm gonna make is it is currently more or less run by a guy named Asdrubael Vect who is possibly the oldest Eldar in existence since he was alive for and witnessed the Fall and clawed his way up from the bottom of Eldar society up to where he is now at the top, leaving piles of bodies behind him.

    So that's the Dark Eldar, a bunch of ravers and reavers high on life and every drug imaginable partying and torturing in a city that could be gone one day.

    Of course the disgusting slaving sweat goblins of Commorragh aren't the only Eldar out there, so let's look at them, shall we?

    CRAFTWORLD ELDAR

    Difference between Craftworld Eldar and Dark Eldar are night and day.

    Those Eldar who survived the Fall on the Craftworlds saw what happened when the Eldar let their emotions and desires control them instead of the other way around, and so they developed a very plain and zen lifestyle so that they may always maintain their self control and calm even in the most perilous of situations. Their society and it's professions are divided into a variety of different paths that all perform different tasks aboard the Craftworld, and an Eldar who chooses a path usually stays on that path until they have perfected whatever profession they have chosen.

    Or if an Eldar doesn't want to choose a path they'll either exile themselves or be exiled from their home Craftworld and become a:
    A.) Mercenary
    B.) Pirate/Corsair
    C.) Ranger
    An Eldar walking the Path of the Oucast may eventually return to their Craftworld and pick a path that isn't being a murder hobo space elf. Or they'll stay a ranger or go to Commorragh to join in DAT PARTY LIFE.
    It would likely not surprise you at all to learn this path is made up of either disgraced eldar or youthful eldar looking for adventure.

    One of the most important paths the Eldar have is the Path of the Seer. One guess as to what this one is.
    Since the Eldar don't have the population to fight like they did in the old days, they have to make effective use of their limited population and take great care to reduce casualties on their side. They do this by having their Farseers put them ten steps ahead of their opponents, or by not fighting at all and pitting their enemies against each other through misdirection.

    Of course don't think just because the Eldar are careful with their lives that they are unwilling to die. They are. In fact the grand plan of the Craftworld Eldar involves them dying. All of them.
    What is the plan? Well...

    All Craftworld Eldar have a little thing called a soul stone on them. When an Eldar dies with this on them their soul will go into the stone rather than the Warp. Other Eldar will take this stone and transfer the soul into a BIG soul stone on the Craftworld called the Infinity Circuit, which is basically like a purgatory for the Eldar souls where they just kinda... exist. The Plan is that when enough souls have been gathered (literally ALL the Craftworld Eldar by their own estimates) the collective energy and will of these souls will make Ynnead, the god of death, to drop kick Slaanesh into oblivion.
    So in summary the Eldar's plan to kill the first god they accidentally made is to make ANOTHER god to kill the first one.
    Yes, I know, it's almost TOO brilliant.
    At least this WAS the plan, until SOMEONE decided he had a better idea.

    8TH EDITION(a.k.a. the most recent stuff in 40k)
    BIG SPOILERS AHEAD

    So one of the oldest and most famous and respected Eldar Farseers, Eldrad Ulthuan, gets this nuts idea that maybe, just maybe, the Eldar don't all have to die to summon Ynnead. This was scoffed at by most Craftworld leaders because it was their turn with the in universe idiot ball, so they refused to lend Eldrad aid in this endeavor.

    Of course Eldrad is kinda the 'beg forgiveness rather than ask permission' type, so he goes ahead with this anyway. He figures all they actually need to make Ynnead is a enough psychic concentration from enough powerful Farseers and enough power, and boom, instant Death God. He got the first by gathering those Farseers loyal to him and also the bones of the most powerful Farseers from each Craftworld. Which he stole. Then he found this moon just on the edge of the 'safe zone' around the eye of terror, covered in these crystals just bursting with energy. Mind you, these crystals were essentially crystallized Eldar remains that had coated the moon when the eye opened and killed about ninety percent of the Eldar population, and you may have noticed this is starting to perhaps sound maybe just a little bit like necromancy. Which it should. Cause it kind of is.
    But hey, if you wanna summon a Death God, you gotta do a little necromancy.
    So they get to the moon, set up, and get the ritual underway. And Just As Planned, it works.
    Then the filthy humans show up and start shooting everything, as is our nature.

    This fucks the ritual so Eldrad and co. have to stop it halfway through and run like hell before they get some new holes in their chests. They escape, but then Eldrad has to face all the pissed off Craftworlds who found the IOUs he left in place of the Farseer bones, and they find him guilty of space elf HERESY and throw him in magic prison.

    Thing is though, even though the ritual stopped halfway, Ynnead still got summoned. He just wasn't at a power level where he could take on Slaanesh, and since the ritual got fucked by the filthy humans, he was gonna have to power up the old fashioned way, through worship. But for that, he'd need and avatar and prophet to lead the Eldar. So he started looking and found the perfect candidate.

    Smash cut to sweat goblin town (Commorragh) and an Eldar named Yvraine is fighting in a gladiator pit with one of the deadliest pirate queens in Commorragh, Lelith Hesperax. And she's not doing great.
    Up to this point Yvraine has led a storied life, she was born on a Craftworld, became a dancer, developed a bloodlust and became a warrior, then learned she had talent for psychic shit and became a Farseer, then she said 'Fuck this structured bullshit' and left to become a pirate captain for a while before her crew mutinied and she left for Commorragh for dat party life.
    And now she's getting her ass kicked with most of Commorragh watching. She gets really pissed when she realizes Lelith is playing with her and not taking the fight seriously, and goes into a berserker like rage and actually wounds Lelith, which throws off the pirate queen because that wasn't supposed to happen. Lelith retreats to on top of a pile of corpses, Yvraine pursues, loses her footing in charging up the pile, then loses her hand, then gets a sword through the chest.
    Then Ynnead swoops in and gives Yvraine a vision/job interview that goes something like this: 'So I've looked over your resume and you're a PERFECT fit for the job. You start immediately and no, you don't have a say in this.'. So Ynnead pours some of his power into Yvraine and this fixes the missing hand and fixes the whole 'sword through the chest' thing. Of course this big burst of psychic shit radiates out and blows up an already weak point in the Webway around Commorragh, so a whole load of daemons storm in to join the party. Vect immediately orders anyone loyal to him in the arena to kill Yvraine. Again.
    But in a shocking twist, Lelith sides with the woman she just stabbed, and orders everyone loyal to her to protect Yvraine. What was originally a free-for-all gladiator fight has now turned into a team deathmatch with the whole arena involved.
    Never say Commorragh is boring.
    Yvraine and co. were still outnumbered and fled the arena, but surprisingly the ship from her pirate days was in Commorragh and let them onboard, you know, despite the fact they'd mutinied against Yvraine. They then flee Commorragh with a portion of the crew who MUTINIED staying behind to hold off Vect's troops while the important characters escaped.
    Yvraine returns to her home Craftworld, which has... mixed opinions about her return, and fractures into factions. Some following her, some staying there others saying 'fuck this shit I'm gonna be a pirate.' Then she goes through a WHOLE BUNCH of bullshit to make an alliance with the filthy humans because they've FINALLY realized maybe the two races who have the most to lose against the literal eldritch chaos gods should work together. Finally at the end of all of this, Yvraine declares herself/ is declared the Emmisary of Ynnead, and she seeks to unite ALL Eldar beneath the banner of the Aeldari (which can still be pronounced like Eldar just add a little 'e' sound at the end) with the goal of kicking Chaos's fucking teeth in. Specifically Slaanesh.

    Alright. That took a LOT longer to write then I originally planned. I'm very sorry for the delay.

    But there's just one more section to cover, it should be short. SHOULD. I won't tell what it's about, but...
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  • Informational
    • globalwarmth said:
    heh alerts for 3 one word updates, kida glad and disapointed at the same time with reality now
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    At least it gave us the alert, past versions of the forum wouldn't.

    Also, I am pretty sure that the Warp is the way it is currently thanks to the Old Ones actions during the War in Heaven. They basically created so many psi-active species in their war against the Necrons that it destabilized what was once a fairly placid place, combined with an Enslaver plague which served to destroy much of their civilization.
     
    Few corrections:

    The loss of the Necrontyr's souls was a betrayal by the C'tan, specifically the C'tan known as the Deciever (or the Messenger as he was called at first), the Necrontyr were cursed with pathetically short lifespans so after they gave the C'tan robot bodies and computer minds the Deciever offered to fix that by giving the Necrontyr immortal robot bodies like their own. What the Deciever failed to mention to the Necrontyr was that he and the other C'tan were going to eat all of the Necrontyr's souls as a part of this process, because the C'tan had discovered that souls tasted way better than starlight. It was this betrayal that earned him the name of the Deciever, from his previous name of the Messenger.

    The Necrons won the War in Heaven; the Eldar were insufficient to fight them and the Krork were developed too late to change the tides (the Krork were also specifically designed to return life to the barren worlds left behind by Necron harvests as a last ditch 'fuck you' in the event of a Necron victory), then the Enslaver Plague hit and either killed the Old Ones or weakened them enough for the C'tan to finish them off (or most of them at any rate), at this point the C'tan were weak from all the fighting, so the Silent King of the Necrons used his secret kingly command codes to trigger a rebellion\civil war against the C'tan, shattering them into thousands of shards each. Unfortunately, this left the Necrons weakened (notice a pattern here?) and by now the Eldar were on the rise, having recovered from their casualties from the War in Heaven and the Enslaver Plague thanks to breeding like rabbits and week-long orgies, so rather than fight from a position of weakness and with the galaxy still full of crazy warp shenanigans caused by collateral damage from the War, the Necrons retreated to their Tomb Worlds and entered hibernation to wait for reality to calm the fuck down and stop being so unreasonable.

    Unknown to anyone however, the War in Heaven had been such a collective shitshow that the Warp (then known as the Empyrean and actually quite a pleasant place) had been permanently ruined, the psychic emanations of the countless dead from the War infesting it and clumping together to eventually form three new Warp Entities that would come to be known as Khorne, Nurgle and Tzeentch. This is why the Warp is Hell, humanity had nothing to do with it.

    Also, Commorragh is not lit by artificial suns; those are real suns. They just stole them from real space and put them inside Commorragh. Yes, the Eldar have\had the tech to steal stars. This also applies to my next point, the Eldar only ever invented one thing; Wraithbone. All their other technology is just Old One technology that they were either given or salvaged after the War in Heaven. Because they were created\uplifted by the Old Ones the Eldar were never really taught the science and theories behind how exactly their tech worked and the methodology to develop new technology, this is why the Eldar have not technologically advanced at all since the days of the War, despite millions of years having passed since then. The Dark Eldar retain more of that old technology and the industry needed to create it, which is why they are more technologically advanced than the Craftworld Eldar despite their lack of psychic powers and Wraithbone.

    It actually turned out later that three gods escaped the Fall, though only one survived unscathed; Cegorach, the Laughing God, because of course the clown escaped intact.
    Isha the Goddess of Healing and Fertility was 'saved' by Nurgle to be his waifu\test subject, and Khaine the God of War and Fire was shattered into a thousand pieces but survived, for a given definition of 'survived'. Isha's survival is not widely known however, and most Eldar believe she was consumed by Slaanesh with the rest of the pantheon.
     
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    Decent, but I want my living metal.

    I'll give it a look anyway because "Ancient Egyptian Memelord" is my aesthetic.
     
    Also, unrelated to corrections, to give you an idea of just how ridiculously bullshit overpowered the C'tan-led Necrons were at the height of their power, a shard of the Void Dragon claimed to have had servants in two galaxies. Given that it had no reason to lie, this would make the Necrons the only faction other than the Orks and Tyranids to have established an exogalactic presence. The Necrons are also the only faction in the entire setting who haven't lost all their best technology, admittedly their hibernation process went wrong and many of the Tomb Works got borked while others are still waking up; a very slow process that is implied to take centuries or millennia before they'll be back at full strength, but unlike everyone else the Necrons actually will be back at full strength eventually. Their tech is all still there, they know how it works, how to build it and how to develop it further, and given time they will have it all back again. The Orks are the only other faction that are potentially similar, as they theoretically have the capability to regain their lost heritage and become the Krork reborn under the right circumstances, which includes the full tech and knowledge base of the Old Ones. A tech and knowledge base that lost against the Necrons, so yeah.

    RoyalNoises said:
    Decent, but I want my living metal.

    I'll give it a look anyway because "Ancient Egyptian Memelord" is my aesthetic.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Trollzyn is best character. :V
     
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    Causal.1
  • Threadmarks
    • Causal.1
    February 10th, 2011
    5:21pm    ​

    Leviathan is dead, I thought.

    The ocean was hungry. The remnants of the violent turbulence over New Delhi scraped against me. It seeped underneath my skin, into my blood and bone until every inch of me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair burned. A large part of me welcomed the pain. It was distant, a layer of separation between me and the agony kept me functional. It kept me grounded as I floated through visions of pasts and futures, the threads forever twisting and turning into themselves like an ouroboros. The snake perpetually eating its own tail promised me in faint whispers that I could be someone else, be something else, that I could fix everything, if I just looked.

    The pain was mine. It marked the separation between my being and the hungry expanse. It defined me. My fingers hurt, so I knew I had hands. My toes hurt, so I knew I had feet. My eyes didn't hurt, but my tongue, nose and scalp did. I was mostly intact, I thought, and held on to that pain tightly. If I let go, it was over. It would be easy to get lost in the void, to let the ocean bury me, to let myself scatter into pieces drifting on the currents. I knew I wouldn't be able to find my way back, claw my way up or put myself back together.

    Even time would lose track of itself here.

    Look, a faint, very faint whisper said.

    "I am looking," I said. There was a dead woman and her dead two year old son, crushed under the remains of their home when Behemoth shook the earth under the condemned city of New Delhi. The skein of her life was filled with unremarkable events that meant the world to her. I stepped in close, before, close enough to feel the tiny, insignificant ripple of her death reflected into the ocean. Her essence shattered almost immediately and I caught a flicker, like I had for hundreds before.

    Insignificant, but unique.

    I steeled myself and reached for the next one. A boy, three years older than me, covered in concrete dust. Leviathan had wanted to escape, and he stood in the way. The force of the impact had liquefied his body and the void of the Endbringer's presence greedily swallowed what remained. The last thought he had was remembering how I promised it wouldn't hurt.

    It hadn't.

    Leviathan is dead, I thought. This was how I did it. By convincing a boy to kill himself.

    I continued to drift.

    I looked out at the ocean, boundless, formless and endless. My body burned from the inside out, lightning strikes of agony bolting up and down my spine.

    Leviathan is dead. And I was tired.

    I felt like I was back in early last semester, October or November when I was pulled aside after the bell by Mr. Quinlan to tell me how good my grades were not. I managed to get two assignments in out of twelve. I remembered standing there hearing about how I could be held back a grade if I didn't do better, if I couldn't get my work in on time or at all. I stood there like a stump, remembering my work covered in grape juice, or missing from my locker and the times when I came home so tired that I skipped dinner and just slept.

    I remembered searching for the words to tell him, to condemn him. I remembered searching for the strength or the energy or the motivation to scream into his face. To cry. To do something, anything.

    'I understand, sir,' I had replied. I had walked to the bus stop. When the light at the intersection turned green, there was this semi truck. It was a dark blue color with flame decals around the front grill. It had been coming a little fast and it was just this calm, whimsical thought.

    About stepping out into the street, when I knew he couldn't avoid me.

    The thought had left as soon as it arrived, and the truck had rushed by me. It hadn't mattered much at the time, or any other times. They were stupid, worthless ideas, like wondering what it would be like to walk on the moon.

    This time, I thought about letting go. I had the cold, grim feeling that facing the dead was much easier than facing the living. If I wanted to do anything with my life, be anyone, I would have to go back to my body. My broken, weak shell. I could stay here forever, sifting through the threads for solutions, of ways to fix everything, or balance my ledger. I could.

    I could stay here until my body rotted away to dust waiting for that perfect future that would never come.

    I could still hear Sarah - Lisa's voice.

    "This is you being just as stupid as Emma said you were."

    If nothing else, I couldn't do that to my Dad.

    Stay, the whisper crept into my ear.

    "No," I replied. I could see the ocean move, a moving swell of corrupted eddies and whirlpools, like there was something moving just underneath the surface of the water. Something big. It was keeping its distance, but I could almost feel the laser focus of its attention. I smiled in its general direction. It wouldn't take the bait. None of them would, I thought. Not until the ocean's memory of a searing, golden unlight faded.

    Behemoth was underneath that Antarctic peninsula, the void of his presence stationary. The Simurgh was just barely within the upper layers of the atmosphere. The strands of her influence were tattered, but taunt around unsuspecting victims. A young man, around twenty four years of age had already ordered the parts for a homemade bomb vest. His target was the local mall.

    I closed my eyes and turned away.

    Scion was in...London? Absently listening to a homeless man with a sick dog.

    Leviathan was dead, I thought again. It might always feel hollow.

    A faintly sung, melancholic low note beckoned me home.


    _______________​


    I found myself standing in a formless landscape, spotted with Wraithbone ruins. It was neither hot, nor cold here with a blank ground beneath my feet that defied description. A dense fog shrouded the horizons as faded, transparent ghosts with long ears and thin faces wandered the space. The flickers I had caught were here, dimly shining. The pain followed me as a dim echo.

    Foolish, a note of discontent said and I glanced around.

    Vernasse didn't look too impressed with me, a subtle frown on her brow and the slightest tension of her spear arm as she studied me with a contemplative look in her bright eyes. Her right ear pulled, a tiny twitch as she hesitantly reached out and brushed the red tabard I was wearing with her fingertips.

    I knew I looked like death warmed over. If the fact that I was seeing without physical eyes didn't hint that things had deteriorated a bit, the black lines of charred flesh running up and down my body certainly would. I was vaguely aware that I had lost my right pinky and I didn't want to see how many of my toes I still had. Blood was still dripping down my cheeks and I could hear my lips crack as I moved to speak.

    "I am not doing it that way again."

    Her ear pulled again as her chin made a slight incline in acknowledgement. You will not have a choice.

    "There is always a choice," I gritted out. There had to be. There must be. I just didn't know enough yet on how. I made it this far by winging it, half instinct and half rough guesses that shoveled as much shit in as I could throw out. My first act after getting powers was condemning a plane full of passengers to a fate worse than death. I was the reason the Simurgh attacked New Delhi. I forced a nightmare on a girl two years younger than me so she could get the power I wanted to use. I fought the Simurgh by manipulating people into doing it for me. I killed Leviathan by -

    That was not going to be me, ever again.

    "I - " I stepped forward, intent on swallowing my pride and asking for help, but my leg gave out underneath me with a wet snap. The pain was suddenly in clear focus, turning my blood to molten lava filled with glass shards. I curled into myself, pressing my shredded face against the cool, hard planes of the armor I was still wearing. There was a note of alarm, warning, somewhere above me and I fought to stay conscious. White spots flared up behind my eyelids as I ground my teeth, trying not to scream.

    Ulthwé, Vernasse's song said in a questioning tone. A song welled then with three voices. I recognized Vernasse's low register among two others, a man and woman arguing in short, terse notes.

    Someone touched me and I stiffened at the new bloom of pain. They withdrew. After a long moment, I heard a whispered call from the other woman.

    Iyanden.

    Hands touched me again and I could feel the pain dull beneath their fingertips.

    The numbing fingers gently turned me onto my back and pried my arm away from my face. I caught a glimpse of the scholar in his simplistic robes. His thin face was pinched as he took in the damage. He radiated emotions towards me.

    Exasperation.

    Concern.

    Regret.

    Protectiveness.

    Young, he said sadly.

    Crouched above me was the woman with the elaborate hairstyle and decorative robes, the corner of her lip curled in disgust like I was a turd scraped off the bottom of her shoe. She noticed me looking, rolling her eyes.

    Sleep, she ordered.

    My first instinct was to rally against the command. I could feel her derision increase as I tensed to get up. My muscles, my bones and skin screamed and I suddenly wondered why I was fighting. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. If they wanted me gone, all they had to do was walk away.

    Emma wasn't here.

    It would only be for a minute, I thought. If I was sleeping, I wouldn't feel the pain. I caught Vernasse's eye from where she stood, observing. My vision was starting to blur, fading and I gathered just enough energy for one last task. I formed the words and gently broadcasted them to her.

    Help me.

    Please.

    Darkness closed in swiftly, leaving me staring straight up with empty eye sockets. I didn't know if the cool, liquid I could feel drip down my cheeks were tears or blood. I could hear them still, talking above me. I don't think they knew I could understand some of it, or perhaps they didn't care. I caught isolated words and phrases.

    Human.

    Soul.

    Stupid.

    Untrained.

    Shortsighted.

    Young, human.

    Young, eldar.

    Will learn.


    ______________​


    I woke to brilliant agony. Some instinct saw me moving, trying to crawl out of my own skin, but it just made the bed of nails I was laying on dig in. My right arm felt like it was in a vice, and I pulled at it blindly, feeling a tether and feeling something tear. An alarm went off, screaming into my ears with harsh electronic beeping. I was blind. The room I was in was cold with sterile, pungent smells assaulting my nose.

    The door burst open, frantic bleating noises of some language I couldn't understand drawing close. There were a few electronic beeps before the alarm shut off and I became vaguely aware that I was screaming. I scrabbled for the pain, drawing it in, locking it inside as I heard glass breaking. The room became colder as wind from outside blew in. I threw off the sandpaper covers, lurching off the bed. I knew I was going to fall. I don't know where I thought I was going.

    Warm arms caught me, lighting up my raw nerve endings as I choked on my tongue.

    Keep it in, I thought wildly. Don't let it out, keep it in!

    " - aylor, Taylor, it's okay."

    Annabelle.

    "We're okay, sweetheart. We're okay...can we get anything for her?"

    She pulled me to the floor gently. I felt the cold linoleum tiles under my legs as I tore at the jean jacket she was wearing. I tried to keep it inside, even as I felt myself break. It hit me then, hearing her try to comfort me, that I would never see Mom again and the howling wail of a screaming banshee burst from my lips.

    Everything I caused, everything I did, I felt like I was falling down a bottomless pit of despair. New Delhi. Twenty one point seventy five million. I had been willing to risk twenty one point seventy five million just to convince myself that I was a good person, that I could be worth something.

    That was the kind of hero I was.

    I regretted coming back.

    "It's okay, breathe, hun. I got you. I got you."

    I clung to her voice. It was warm, concerned. No anger. No fear. No hate.

    No hate.

    Keep it in. Keep it in.

    The ocean was hungry.

    Keep it in.

    No storms, my mind babbled. No storms.

    No one else.

    No one else.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Causal.2
  • Threadmarks
    • Causal.2
    February 10th, 2011
    6:03pm
    ​
    "- express the deepest gratitude for the aid of India's allies during this trying time while being mindful of the challenges it faces going forward." The subtitles at the bottom of the TV screen scrolled by, white letters on a black band. The speakers were muted and what few lights remained intact had been dimmed to one setting above off, drowning everything in shadows that flickered back and forth save for one spot of light pulsing. The heart monitor was in the corner, a half dozen colored waving lines scrawling a black screen in the sharp shapes of a frantic heartbeat. The windows were closed, not that it did any good with the glass still blown out, letting a biting cold wind snake through the curtains. Ice crept along the walls and floor and at times, the wind sighed.

    There was a ghost in the corner.

    "-Minister would like to reiterate that at this time, there has been no new information on the incident, but talks have been opened with the US President regarding future cooperative efforts."

    "Yeah, I bet." Annabelle Kemper shifted in her chair, pulling her PRT issued jacket a little tighter around her. She fished out her phone from a pocket. "India isn't the only one, you know. Internet is going crazy over you, kid. Well - " she checked herself with a rueful smile. "No one really knows what to think, you know? Farseer made a splash. Check out PHO, it's like an international bazaar exploded on it. We've got Germans, Russians, I think that's Italian? Portuguese? And Chinese…"

    The soft beeping of her heartbeat answered for Taylor Hebert.

    Annabelle bit her lip and snuck a glance.

    Toss a hot dog into the microwave, leave it on for a bit too long. Until the skin of the sausage bursts open, steaming.

    Apply that to the skin of a fifteen year old girl.

    Taylor had torn off the bandages again, exposing blackened lines of puckered burns with glimpses of bone white beneath the ruptured muscle. Most was still covered by gauze, some of it leaked through with bright red blood. Her eyes were firmly covered with blindfolds that did nothing to hide the tracks of pale, plastic acid burn grooves down her cheeks. They had to put the IV in her neck after she ripped the last one out and the blankets had been carefully, gingerly replaced, swamping the girl's thin frame. The spot of light in her chest pulsed with a warm light, casting her thin face in sharp relief. Every so often, Taylor flinched and grimaced with pain in her sleep, but didn't make so much as a whimper. She suffered in silence and in a very real way, that was worse than the screaming. There was nothing they could do for her, the doctors had said. There were warnings all over her medical file. Unknown biology. Unknown reactions to pain medications. Saline to keep her hydrated was all they had been willing to commit to, while keeping their 'options' open for a feeding tube and a round of prayers.

    "I'm not trying to be, you know. They've got like a billion people now and I'm sure most of them are lovely but the Chinese government?" She brushed a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear and absently wished for some ear muffs. Or a hat. "There was this thing two years back, Hot Wire or Hot Flash or Hot something - anyway, energy manipulator, okay? Disappears while in Laos and its this - this incident. CUI tried to tell us he's a recaptured fugitive, right? An American citizen with powers literally kidnapped with this bullshit paper thin excuse - "

    There isn't a movement so much as the lighting in the room just shifted a little. It sent that familiar spike of ice down her spine. It was the same feeling you get when you turn down a dark alleyway in a bad part of town and you start to consider how many ways things could go wrong. With practised ease Annabelle Kemper ignored it.

    If she were to run from every might haves, could haves, she would have run from her job and kept on running.

    She turned to face the ghost and found its cat eyes open. Pale eyes that might have been blue in better light had one hell of a thousand yard stare, but nothing beat Taylor Hebert's burnt out eye sockets alive with lightning and ash.

    "I'm just saying," Annabelle continued. "Someone with a CUI calling card? Stab them in the face first, ask questions never."

    She was paraphrasing official PRT policy.

    Semi-official policy.

    The ghost's right ear twitched.

    "It's been - shit how long has it been?" Eight hours? Nine? She checked her phone. Eleven? Christ. "People are starting to put it together, with Leviathan actually dead! Do you know how amazing that is? And like what was different this time that we couldn't do last time and - and we've got names."

    Just cape names. What started out as a list of over fifty had gradually dwindled down, repeated over and over on boards and in the news, until just the same names were said. She didn't care much about the others. Some Indian capes, some German ones, this one Nordic guy.

    Farseer.

    "If we ever get around to making a statement, a real official press release on what the fuck happened and it was you?"

    It would change everything.

    She couldn't hold back the jaw cracking yawn. Eleven fucking hours. She glanced out the broken windows expecting to see the beginnings of dawn behind the Brockton Bay skyline. It was still pitch black, because it was still the dead of winter.

    "Am I even - like, can Taylor hear me or am I just…?"

    There was a blink-and-you-miss-it tug at the corner of the ghost's mouth that could have been anything from a smile to a sneer.

    Then it fucking spoke.

    "She cannot,"     the ghost said in a voice that flowed like water.

    Annabelle stared.

    "You speak?" Obviously. Taylor was in no condition to consciously direct a projection, but unconscious power use was just this thing with the girl to the point of having a power warning in her file. No one batted an eyelash when the projection didn't disappear when Taylor lost consciousness, but obviously they damn well should of.

    She cast about for the unlikely scenario, because unlikely was the name of Taylor Hebert's game. "Are you independent?"

    A beat of silence. "Yes."

    "Sorry," her mouth said automatically. "It's been a long day so I'm kind of...slow." Another blink-and-miss tug of the ghost's mouth. "You're independent. Great." That was another five pages of paperwork, minimum. "So are you just hanging out or -"

    The room twisted.

    The shadows darkened and moved, forming monstrous silhouettes tearing into each other, crawling over each other, biting, scratching, clawing towards the bed.

    They couldn't reach it.

    The walls were see through. The windows were unbroken and shattered. The dim light of the shining oval in Taylor Hebert's chest was a steady pulse. The heart beat monitor beeped quietly as reality stopped making sense.

    Before she could open her mouth to scream, normalcy reasserted itself. The shadows stopped moving. The windows were broken, letting in the cold winter air as the curtains softly flapped in the breeze. A headache battered its way to the forefront of her consciousness as her stomach flipped upside down and threatened to rebel.

    "What the fuck -"

    "Protecting,"     the ghost said as if nothing had happened.

    Annabelle had a hard time focusing on it through the headache.

    "Protecting her?" She managed to croak.

    This time the tug at the corner of its mouth became a small, indulgent smile.

    "Protecting you."

    The chill that went down her spine then was more than ice. It was liquid lightning, jumping out from her spine to burn a numbing path to her fingers and toes. Her knees buckled and she half fell back into her chair.

    When had she gotten up?

    The heart monitor beeped from its corner.

    "I - " Her voice broke. "I am...going to get coffee."

    The ghost inclined its head, acknowledging.

    Annabelle fled.


    ______________​



    The coffee machine was a sleek stainless steel and plastic behemoth with a counter all to itself as it burbled away, brewing. The opposite side of the little nook had about twelve different roasts and four different kinds of hot chocolate along with vacuum sealed cups of cream, sugar and cheap little white spoons. Plastic mugs, the kind that had fold-out handles were stacked beside a modest cereal bar rack. Some pencil pusher somewhere had decided to splurge the hospital budget for the sake of their souls and Annabelle loved them for it.

    The chill didn't go away with the first testing sip or two creams and a half packet of sugar, nor the third, but it was still soothing. It was something about the act of drinking coffee. It was about doing something so mundane it couldn't be anything but real.

    'I didn't sign up for this shit,' Annabelle thought. Then she closed her eyes and groaned. 'I totally did though.'

    "Hey, can I get a mug of that?" Something white and red moved in her peripheral vision.

    "Sure." She was moving before she managed to get a clear glimpse of her new 'neighbor'. "Oh."

    Panacea gave a little wave. "Yeah. Hi."

    "Hi," Annabelle let out in a rush of breath. "I thought - you weren't due until tomorrow?"

    Amy Dallon's eyebrows shot up. "For who?"

    "I mean - " Annabelle floundered for a moment, thrown even as she berated herself for it. Taylor Hebert had been far from the only cape at New Delhi. Far from the only one hurt, probably not even the only one hurt as badly.

    'She's my kid though.'

    That's what made the difference.

    "For Taylor?"

    Panacea's mouth twisted briefly as her brown eyes flashed up to meet hers. "Is that what they told you?"

    Alarm bells softly began to chime inside her head.

    "I'm a handler," Annabelle said self-deprecatingly. "I fill out paperwork and make calls, mostly. A grunt. They don't tell me shit, really." She tried to smile, but she wasn't sure if it came out how it was supposed to. "It's okay, I probably got the details wrong." She didn't. She remembered the phone call, but if there was anything she'd learned over the years it was that being right meant fuck all sometimes. "It's been a long twenty four hours, for everyone."

    Amy grabbed the mug as soon as it was full and turned to the other counter. The lack of a response rung in the air as Amy ripped open a packet of sugar and dumped it in. Annabelle held her tongue. It had been a long twenty four hours. Some people dealt with being tired, some people didn't and all you could do was figure out which was which and stay out of the way.

    One packet of cream went in next along with a half packet of swiss hot chocolate. Amy stirred.

    "I'm not healing her."

    A thousand different responses leapt in her mind to Taylor's defense, not the least of which was the screaming why not?

    She knew better though. Years as a social worker taught her a lot about confrontations. Years of legalities drilled into her head as a PRT representative meant she had a good idea of when and where to confront. It tended to piss people off if you confronted them on stuff, especially if they were being stupid.

    "Okay," Annabelle replied.

    "Okay?" Amy repeated. She stopped mid sip and turned, setting the cup down hard on the counter. "Okay. Aren't you supposed to be some kind of advocate?" The girl sneered. "What kind of handler are you?"

    "Hers," Annabelle said. "Not yours."

    Something ugly flitted across Amy's face then, but she couldn't say exactly what it was.

    "But you'd want me to, right?" Amy nearly cajoled. "Heal her?"

    "Sure," Annabelle shrugged, eyeing Panacea carefully. "Depends on why not though."

    If it was just to make some kind of twisted statement on who deserved to be healed and who didn't, then Annabelle didn't know what she would think. Nothing flattering. It would be the kind of spite she would expect from anyone else though, almost literally anyone else, but she supposed that was unreasonable of her. No matter her powers, Amy Dallon was still a seventeen year old girl.

    Their little nook gained another visitor before Amy could answer. A slightly above average height blonde woman in comfortable sweats and an expensive phone to her ear. With only one hand free, she still expertly poured the last of the kettle after a discerning sniff and crowded the other counter top to grab a cranberry cereal bar.

    "I beg your pardon?" Carol Dallon spat into the phone trapped between her ear and her shoulder. The wrapper of the cereal bar crinkled in her hands.

    The answering voice was small and tinny but Annabelle could just barely hear it.

    "This is considered a matter of national security, ma'am. We are fully prepared to ask a judge if we need to - "

    "Which you do," Brandish snapped back. "And it will be TRO'd so fast your ass will fucking skip." Amy's eyebrows flew up into her hairline and Annabelle was sure hers weren't the only ones. "The For Citizens Act does not grant anyone the right to compel service. We got rid of slavery years ago."

    Whatever the other person on the line had to say, it must not have been very impressive judging by the look of distaste on Carol Dallon's face.

    "Let me make this clear, Amy will not be healing anyone without her and my express permission. And you will not be calling me again without a search warrant or a subpoena."

    And with that, she hung up. Dallon tore into the cereal bar packet with her teeth and took a rage filled bite of cranberry and nuts.

    "Who the hell was that?" Amy asked, seemingly absorbed in stirring more hot chocolate into her coffee.

    "PRT, Los Angeles," her adoptive mother said shortly. She was looking up into the far corner, chewing furiously, brows still furrowed in irritation. Her daughter stood beside her, but apart, facing the opposite direction with hunched shoulders and distant look in her eyes as she absently stirred. Carol Dallon was striking both in and out of costume. It didn't matter if she was in a business suit or sweat pants, her back was straight and almost vibrated with tension.

    The two painted a picture Annabelle had seen before. Before the PRT, when she was a social worker in Boston during family sessions. She wasn't a licensed therapist, who's job had been to fix issues, but rather to identify potential ones. To find the broken or strained links.

    Brandish's body language asked for no comfort, from anyone, and Amy's said that she had none to give. Was she seeing things? She was probably seeing things. It was beyond late. The most rational explanation was that both of them were introverted people, unused to or unwilling to reach out to others.

    She returned her attention to her own cooling cup of coffee.

    Carol Dallon sighed almost explosively. "How often are you up this late?"

    Amy shrugged a shoulder.

    "Amy."

    It was the teenager's turn to sigh, glancing around for a clock before giving up and fishing out a phone from beneath the voluminous robes of her costume.

    "Three out of seven?" Amy hazarded a guess and Annabelle took her next sip a bit too quickly. Three out of seven days? It was six in the morning.

    Carol turned. It was a partial, aborted movement like half of her wanted to confront and the other half was shying away.

    "That stops," was all the woman said and Annabelle couldn't bite her tongue fast enough to stop the idle

    "Insomnia?" from slipping out.

    Because if it was some kind of sleeping disorder or anxiety disorder you couldn't just order it to stop. It was the equivalent of asking a chronically ill person if they had just tried not being sick. It did not work that way, and insisting otherwise could easily cross the line to being actively harmful.

    Amy's face blanched white, then flushed red. "I just can't, sometimes."

    Carol opened her mouth, but after glancing around the little nook seemed to visibly rethink what she had been about to say. "Dr. Bouras says you visit. To heal?"

    "Yeah," came out of Amy hesitantly.

    "I don't want you healing while tired." Carol said and immediately held up a hand to forstall argument. "I don't want you healing while tired," she repeated. "I don't want you getting used to healing while tired and I don't want you to feel like you have to heal, even when tired."

    "I'm not going to make a mistake," Amy said.

    Carol's blue eyes flickered. That had scored a hit somewhere.

    "That's not the point."

    "That's the only point."

    "Amy, it's association," the woman said softly with a tight tone to her voice that told anyone listening she was making an effort to be patient. "If you make a habit of studying while tired, you are going to associate studying with being tired. I don't want you feeling like you are doing a late night session healing all the time."

    That drew Panacea up short. "Oh."

    A sardonic twist came onto Carol's lips. "I am going to ask again, how often are you up late?"

    Amy's gaze found the ground. She didn't answer.

    Carol breathed in through her nose like a bull, nostrils flaring.

    "I see." Carol said flatly. Her eyes cut across and Annabelle found herself clutching her cooled coffee cup to her chest when Brandish looked over her. "Handler?"

    "For Farseer," Annabelle confirmed. "I've been informed that treatment from New Wave has been - " she searched for the word - shitcanned- and then searched again for the diplomatic one. "Postponed until further notice?"

    Amy was stirring again.

    The tactile, repetitive behavior struck Annabelle as odd. How much stirring did the coffee need? It wasn't until Amy took a sip that she could see why.

    Amy Dallon's hands were shaking.

    "That is correct," Carol was saying. It was delivered dispassionately, a bland voice for a bland delivery. "It is nothing personal."

    But it was personal. For the girl lying in a hospital bed covered in electrical burns with burned out twin ashtrays for eyes, it could not be any more personal. Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Carol Dallon shifted with slight unease.

    "It's complicated," she offered.

    It's complicated.

    "It's complicated," Annabelle repeated. She drained the last of her coffee and tossed the cup into the half-full garbage can. "Explain it to me. Bad power interaction?"

    "I can't," Amy whispered. And then again, louder. "I can't." The next words seemed to burst from her chest. "I can't stop seeing it! Her organs, her cells, her blood, her DNA! And it doesn't - I can - I can almost see it. The missing piece."

    Her hands trembled.

    "I keep thinking that all I need is another glimpse and I'll solve the puzzle. I just need to touch her." Her eyes tracked unerringly towards Taylor's room.

    Carol stepped in her line of sight. "Which you won't."

    Amy shook herself and tossed the half finished cup of coffee away. "I won't. It won't be - I mean, I can't fully see what I would be doing anyway. There's like, a quarter of her DNA missing. I might fuck it up and then where would we be?" Amy said with dark humour. "She's better off with someone else, or shit, she's a Trump." Amy waved a dismissive hand. "She can figure it out."

    "She unconscious," Annabelle pointed out and was rewarded with a nasty little smirk.

    "Since when has that ever stopped her?"

    ___________________​





    I bit back the scream as the feedback tore my left pinky finger right off my hand in a shower of purple sparks and bright red blood. Iyanden caught the severed digit with one hand and my flailing arm with the other. The pain numbed immediately, letting me swallow the scream down to join the rest festering in my stomach.

    He held my hand gently as he worked on reattaching it and I watched him. I tried to feel what he was doing. I tried not to feel like a failure.

    It was a mixed success.

    Iyanden had his pale hair pulled back in a high ponytail that just highlighted the sharp planes of his thin face. His plain scholarly looking robes were splattered with my blood and singed in a few places from misfires. I don't really know if that was his name, but it was what the others called him. He didn't seem to mind when I called him that, so Iyanden it was.

    Learning well, he sung.

    "No, I'm not," I said.

    His right ear flicked back and forth in an expression I was beginning to think was amusement. The barely there smile he flashed just reinforced that interpretation. Maybe he was mocking me. Maybe he found it genuinely funny. Maybe it was both.

    Only finger, not hand, he pointed out. At my dubious expression, his ear flicked again. Quit?

    I flexed my hands. I was still missing my right pinky and about half of my toes. My eyes. I was a goddamn mess kept together by willpower and something. They said I could fix it. That I could heal myself. And the Eldar seemed so sure, I could not help believing them. I wanted to learn how to do it. I needed to learn how. And really, what was a little dismemberment now compared to being a match for Panacea later?

    Ynnashar?

    "No," I said and steeled myself for more pain. I asked what that meant once. What they called me now. Ynnashar. It probably meant slug or something. They wouldn't say. "I'm not quitting."

    I reached out to the ocean.

    And it was hungry.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • First off: Yay, new chapter!

    Secondly, this is a very nice and reasonable depiction of Carol's behavior towards Amy as her adopted daughter, showing that she cares, and explaining why she doesn't want Amy healing all the time, especially when she's tired.
     
    My opinion of Carol Dallon was shockingly unchanged in this. 😒

    Still though... Yay! New Chapter!
     
    Nightwing said:
    First off: Yay, new chapter!

    Secondly, this is a very nice and reasonable depiction of Carol's behavior towards Amy as her adopted daughter, showing that she cares, and explaining why she doesn't want Amy healing all the time, especially when she's tired.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Better than canon, to be sure. She actually showed concern about Amy overworking herself, and Amy as well. Nice to know some people can learn -- at least, when they're not being written by Wildbow that is.
     
    Dr. Mercurious said:
    Better than canon, to be sure. She actually showed concern about Amy overworking herself, and Amy as well. Nice to know some people can learn -- at least, when they're not being written by Wildbow that is.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Canon Worm, there's a certain amount of "adults are undependable" because otherwise why is it up to a bunch of teens to pull the world's ass out of the fire, plus its standard "it gets worse" plotting...but IMO the best way to describe it is like if you took Taylor from the beginning of the story, betrayed, neglected, abused, adults looking the other way, then that expectation became the norm for the entire world, as if the whole thing was really Taylor writing a superhero fanfic after she got out of the hospital.

    Yeah, a lot of that is shards messing people up, locking them into some unhelpful thought template, and low-grade mastering them to pick stupid fights when it's obviously counterproductive. But it's hard to do "everything is mind control" in fics without it coming off as some kind of heavy-handed bashfic.


    Shujin said:
    It's a direct result of Taylor poking Doctor Bouras about Amy's issues from way back in Metamorphose.4.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    That's, um, I thought about that first, but the only way I saw that mattering much was if she found out Taylor did that, and was being offended and uncharacteristically petty about it, and was immediately talked out of it.

    It's really more consistent with Amy being paranoid about messing up something she can't fix a la not doing brains, plus being freaked out about her own obsession over it when she's already resisting major urges to do some recreational fleshsculpting.

    Also Vicky, I suppose.

    And that is what you showed in the chapter, here:

    Shujin said:
    "I can't," Amy whispered. And then again, louder. "I can't." The next words seemed to burst from her chest. "I can't stop seeing it! Her organs, her cells, her blood, her DNA! And it doesn't - I can - I can almost see it. The missing piece."

    Her hands trembled.

    "I keep thinking that all I need is another glimpse and I'll solve the puzzle. I just need to touch her." Her eyes tracked unerringly towards Taylor's room.

    Carol stepped in her line of sight. "Which you won't."

    Amy shook herself and tossed the half finished cup of coffee away. "I won't. It won't be - I mean, I can't fully see what I would be doing anyway. There's like, a quarter of her DNA missing. I might fuck it up and then where would we be?" Amy said with dark humour. "She's better off with someone else, or shit, she's a Trump." Amy waved a dismissive hand. "She can figure it out."
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
     
    dreadparrot said:
    That's, um, I thought about that first, but the only way I saw that mattering much was if she found out Taylor did that, and was being offended and uncharacteristically petty about it, and was immediately talked out of it.

    It's really more consistent with Amy being paranoid about messing up something she can't fix a la not doing brains, plus being freaked out about her own obsession over it when she's already resisting major urges to do some recreational fleshsculpting.

    Also Vicky, I suppose.

    And that is what you showed in the chapter, here:
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I meant more in the fact that Carol is there with Amy at the hospital and showing some concern over healing while tired is a direct result of Dr. Bouras bringing things to her attention. In canon Worm, you don't see Carol around.
     
    Causal.3
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    • Causal.3

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    ♦ Topic: Maelstrom Thread
    In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay
    Funeral Pyre (Original Poster)
    Posted on January 4th, 2011:
    On January 3rd, a huge storm appeared over the city of Brockton Bay and remained stationary, despte a lack of inclement weather. These are the facts as they are known at this time:

    #1 Early reports of the storm's center in proximity to Winslow High School. Later confirmed as originating from within Winslow High itself. The school has been evacuated and remains closed until further notice.
    #2 A section of the school's interior is reportedly covered by a bone-like material. Later confirmed to be a section of the students' lockers.
    #3 Initial speculation re: the bone material being the work of an ABB-affiliated Tinker dismissed by the PRT and Protectorate.
    #4 Storm purportedly engulfed two commuter aircraft in its vicinity. No wreckage has yet been located.
    #5 Storm speculated to be the result of a trigger event. Later confirmed by a student's cellphone video, currently difficult to source due to removals for its graphic content and incidental reveal of the new cape's identity. Brockton Bay Daily News named this new cape "Maelstrom", and the thread name was changed as other news agencies started using that alias for the cape in question.
    #6 Storm dissipated two days later, on the 5th.
    #7 More recent video depicts humanoid figure exiting Winslow, notably sporting tapered ears. Elf?
    #8 Security videos from buildings near the PRT offices on the 5th show the same figure storming out of the PRT offices as Maelstrom's 'storms' reappear throughout the city.
    #9 Brockton Bay's 'Elf' later spotted half an hour later parting the water along the docks like an angry American Moses. Many believe said Elf to be Maelstrom given these events, especially given that Maelstrom's father, Danny Hebert, was photographed entering the bay and calmed her down from whatever had upset her shortly afterwards.
    #10 The bone-like material has reportedly been removed from Winslow.

    edited January 13th, 2011

    (Showing Page 16 of 37)

    ► XxVoid_CowboyxX
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    I wonder if she's a Case 53.

    ► Sam_the_man (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    @XxVoid_CowboyxX
    I wonder if she's an alien invader from the sttaaarrrrrssssss~

    ► Highfort96
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    I wonder if she's going to be in the next lord of the rings movie?

    ► Judge (Moderator)
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    I wonder if you can all get back on topic? [/not so subtle hint]

    ► XxVoid_CowboyxX
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    Ok, taking teh hint and all that. Does anyone know what they're going to do with her costume?

    ► Double-O-Mali
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    @XxVoid_CowboyxX
    well, the two things that spring to me mind is either something santa or dnd/lotr related.

    ► RocksFall (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    @Double-O-Mali
    Putting anyone in green tights is prob the fastest way to make them turn to evviiilllll.:p
    So I'm expecting something dnd/lotr.

    ► Vilebile
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    Could also go Vulcan if theyre a Trekkie.
    I prefer the dark elves myself. Um… are we allowed to list possible cape names even if the evidence is rather strong about identities?

    ► Sothoth (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    @RocksFall
    Of course you would. Heretic. :p

    @Vilebile
    Legally it's in a grey area with extenuating circumstances. Depends on how hard the PRT wants to push things. The fact this thread isn't locked yet doesn't suggest they care that much about cape name suggestions. It's not official yet after all. Also, a Vulcan costume would result in the owners of Star Trek becoming involved. Of course, she coud do corporate sponsorships. Remember Pepsi Girl?

    ► Evil_Kirk (Trekkie)
    Posted on January 14th, 2011:
    @Vilebile
    You know people DO occasionally do surgery for elf ears. I saw it in a star trek documentary a few years ago. Before the whole debacle with the crazy master fan kind of ruined things. :(

    @Sothoth
    I remember Pepsi Girl. Didn't she get fired for being caught with coke? :3


    End of Page. 1, … 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, … 37


    ♦ Topic: Music Recommendation Thread #17
    In: Boards ► Watercooler Talk
    Scriv     (Original Poster) (Moderator)
    November 11th, 2010:
    As the last thread reached its page limit, a new one has been created. All music recommendations require the post to describe the song name and artist. Genre is also highly encouraged as being described as well. I'll start things off with some Rock&Roll.;):D:p

    Also, DO NOT POST MORE THAN NINE LINKS! Thank you.

    Blinded by the Light by Manfred Mann's Earth Band. Then we have The Spirit Of Radio by Rush. And then Blue On Black by dear Kenny Wayne Shepherd. And finally, two ear-worms I caught from the last thread, here's Genghis Khan and Choke.


    (Showing Page 42 of 43)


    ► Ibat     (Moderator)
    Posted on February 6th, 2011:
    Here's some good swing/electroswing. Parov Stelar by Gringo (Electro Swing). Cafe Swing, Best Of Electro Swing Mix Vol.3. :D

    ► Mechanical Messiah (Veteran Member)
    Posted on February 6th,2011:
    Got an eclectic mix here. Mostly Jazz, Hiphop, RB, really the best of the best. #1. Take Five by Dave Brubeck. #2. Luv Sic (parts 1, 2, & 3, feat. Shing02). Hard to describe the genres here. Odd but beautiful mix of Hiphop, R&B, Jazz, and new age. #3. Elvis and The Way You Are by Alpha. Genre = Aleph Import R&B. #4. Sunburn and Watercolors by the artist Witness. #5. So Seductive by Kero One. #6. The Best Of Jesse Cook by the artist... Jesse Cook. :p

    ► Good_Girl
    Posted on February 6th, 2011:
    Happy. Also The woods by San Fermin. I always get a kick out of songs like these.:)

    ► Nameless The 3RD
    Posted on February 6th, 2011:
    Somnia Memorias by Shani Rigsbee, Japura River by Philip Glass and Uakti, and Tranquillitas by NUMA. Mix of modern spanish, classical, and traditional styles in various mixes.

    ►Jenny867
    Posted on February 7th, 2011:
    Barra barra by Rachid Taha.

    ►BatOutOfHell
    Posted on February 7th, 2011:
    Planet Caravan - Black Sabbath. This always puts my mind at ease.

    ► BLOODBATH&BEYOND
    Posted on February 8th, 2011:
    Extreme Music: Furies. Karl Sanders: The Elder God Shrine. Juno Reactor: Conquistador and War Dogs.

    ► Ramhi Daragius
    Posted on February 9th, 2011:
    I've no more fucks to give by Thomas Benjamin Wild Esq. Traditional guitar. :p

    ► icemelt101 (Unverified Cape)
    Posted on February 9th, 2011:
    The master of funk, Jamiroquai! Canned heat, Virtual Insanity, Automaton, and Dynamite.

    ►TheGnat (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on February 10th, 2011:
    Ok, I've got a bunch here. Kind of rushed for time, so I can't give genres, but I can list the songs and artists. Hope you enjoy. Sabaton – Night Witches. The Crush by Miracle of Sound. The Hell Song - Sum 41. Revolution - The Used. Count the Teeth - NateWantsToBattle. The Man Who Made A Monster - Dance With The Dead. Two Steps From Hell - Unforgiven. Pendulum - The Island. Belgrade - Battle Tapes. I'd share more, but I know Mechanical Messiah is gonna get on me later on for posting such a huge list as it is, even if I'm allowed to lol.


    End of Page. 1, … 41, 42, 43


    (Showing Page 43 of 43)

    ►Sengiroth
    Posted on February 10th, 2011:
    I see a severe lack of EUROBEAT!

    Hurricane Man, Super Striker, Love Countdown,
    One Night in Arabia ,
    Night of Fire,
    Perfect Hero,
    Speedy Speed Boy,
    Max Power &
    Chemical Love.

    ► Vista (Confirmed Cape) (Ward) (ENE)
    Posted on February 10th, 2011:
    Got some classic recs here, followed by some more modern ones. :)
    Anvil Chorus by Giuseppe Verdi. Lacrimosa by Mozart. Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major by Bach. Clair de Lune. In The Hall Of The Mountain King by Edvard Grieg. Thunderstruck by 2cellos.

    Then for the more modern stuff, let's start with one of my favs, followed by a bunch of others I find myself dancing to. Love Is A Madness by No Sinner.
    So Much More by Supreme Beings Of Leisure.
    And lastly, Smooth by Santana ft Rob Thomas. :D


    End of Page. 1, … 41, 42, 43


    ♦ Topic: ENDBRINGER THREAD #39
    (Thread Locked)
    In: Boards ► Places ► World
    Dragon     (Original Poster) (Verified Cape)
    December 5th, 2010:
    The next Endbringer attack is expected sometime between early to mid-February 2011. Analysis expects the attack to be either Behemoth or Simurgh. Preparations are already underway by the UN, Red Cross & Crescent, the USA Federal Disaster and Endbringer relief fund, along with the PRT, the Guild, the World Economic, Natural Disasters and Governmental Defense Group. Discussion in this must stay on topic though, and Staff will enforce that if need be.

    EDIT; The Simurgh attacked New Delhi on January 16th, 2011; a quarantine is not yet in effect although a blockade has been implemented. The PRT and Guild offer condolences for those lost and sincere thanks and appreciation for those who joined the fight or helped with the evacuation. Special thanks and consideration is being offered to Panacea and Farseer for their help in events.

    The Indian Government is remaining quiet while they take stock of the situation, and it is unclear when they will speak on what happened. The PRT has made its response known, which can be read in the "PRT Press Conference Thread" over HERE.

    MODERATOR EDIT; A Zero-Tolerance Policy is in effect in this thread until further notice. Be civil, be polite, stay on topic, and leave the theatrics/drama/hysteria out. Failure to comply will result in infractions and/or threadbans.

    (Showing Page 68 of 93)

    ► Wingless
    Posted on January 28th, 2011:
    @WingedOne
    I'm just saying, no one knows who the fuck Farseer is, but the rumors going around are already terrifying.

    ► Sonic_Boom
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @Wingless
    The rumors seem like paranoid fearmongering. Remember that "Jedi" that showed up a while ago? Yeah, I don't buy it.

    ► Gomer
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @samIam
    Dude, I have an uncle who fought there. He says that the rumors are probably underplaying just how much bullshit Farseer pulled out of her ass.

    ► 0495813n
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    So do we know anything about the change in Endbringer attacks here?

    ► DaFuk
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @0495813n
    Nope. As someone very eloquent once said, we don't know shit, beyond the bare basics and a lot of rumors and hearsay. And we won't know actual shit for a couple more days/weeks at the very least. We know something major happened, but not exactly what yet.

    ► Arcane_Hermit (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    … Had to deal with undue hell, but when I came back on the RL section to see what horrors happened.

    And it looks like we have an Angel alert, again. And another quarantine, and another headache. "Just as planned" aside, can't help that shaky feeling on the disaster's that's just happened, again.

    Real shame I can't even offer condolences right. Just… Give respects to the unfortunate victims who frankly, HAVE to go through proper protocols, and security. And pray or hope none of them are subtly enough affected to cross the border, as usual.

    Really, hate how this keeps on happening when Ziz wakes up. Especially when every time it happens, I occasionally lose a real online pal in hand.

    ► Boblob (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @Sam_the_man
    That sounds like crazy-talk.

    ► Sothoth
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @DaFuk
    Given the way the authorities and heros have been acting, along with this being a Simurgh attack and Scion of all people killing people en mass, I'd say that whatever happened was a big enough deal to have rattled everyone. Only question here is in the details, but like you said, we won't get most of them for some time yet.

    ► Sam_the_man (Veteran Member)
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @Boblob, did you mean to respond to @samIam? Because I wasn't involved in this conversation until you pinged me. And sheesh, reading this thread is kind of scary, and no one knows all of what is happening.

    ► Boblob (Veteran Member)
    Posted on January 29th, 2011:
    @Sam_the_man, uhm, whoops? Sorry man, my bad. :(


    End of Page. 1, … 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, … 93


    (Showing Page 93 of 93)

    ► Unit01     (Not An Actual Mechanical Abomination)
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @Fep, @MMNS
    Wait, there selling the debris? Really? Fucking really? :wtf:

    ► KFPeein
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @Unit01
    Aliens. And money. Nuff said.

    ► D3br1S
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @Fep , @Unit01
    tbh i wuldnt b surprised if india kept most of teh stuff frm teh storm can u imagine wut kind of shit ther wuld b?

    ► Best Indian Tinker (Verified Cape) (Humble)
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    That stuff would be sent to Ahmedabad probably, under lock and fucking key. That's where the Physical Research lab is for space. Area 51, except civilized. Vimana here we come! :D

    ► HotterLass
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @D3br1S
    Dude, grammar. And spelling. And grammar.
    Edit- Also, to stay on topic and not get infracted, I wonder if they're going to make that day a global holiday?

    ►Sothoth
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @HotterLass
    That depends on whether Leviathan is actually dead as has been claimed, even though it's looking likely. The authorities won't have confirmation for that for at least a year, but given the statements already made by various government groups, it seems like a good bet. :D

    That said, we still don't know what is up with Scion going homicidal, so even if Leviathan is dead we may still end up worse off than before events started. :(

    @KFPeein
    That may be the case, but its also the site of a Simurgh zone. Dangerous and risky for civilians to mess with that stuff to say the least.

    ► Fep
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    @Unit01
    They are actually selling storm crap. I have proof. Look at this shit. Crazy money.
    *Edited by moderator - Link removed. Please don't link to pirate sites and/or sites selling illegal content. Also, this is a zero tolerance thread, take a minimum of six months off from the site while staff look over if we need to escalate even further here. For anyone else reading this, while this site reaches across the globe, its actual servers are in Canada, which means the site runs off of Canadian law. You DO NOT want to link to places selling illegal content by Canadian law.* - Ibat

    ► Boron trifluoride     (Highly Toxic)
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    *message edited by moderator*
    *Edited by moderator - Reposting a removed link was not a good idea.* - M.Night

    ► BigBrain     (SuperThinkerExtraordinaire) (Not An Actual Thinker)
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    Aliens can't get you for stolen possessions if you sell if firsrt, taps forehead.



    ►M.Night (Moderator)
    Posted on February 4th, 2011:
    And that is enough of that. Locking thread for review. Whether this thread opens back up again depends on what we find. There WILL be infractions. Zero tolerance means zero tolerance.


    End of Page. 1, … 91, 92, 93


    ♦ Topic: WILL CRIMINAL CHARGES BE BROUGHT DUE TO WHAT HAPPENED DURING THE STORM? (Thread Locked)
    In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay
    INH (Original Poster)
    January 11th, 2011;
    We all know that two planes went down on the 3rd due to Maelstrom's actions. 46 people were seriously hurt and injured with the first plane crash, but the second plane went missing and is believed that have gone down somewhere in the arctic. No debris has been found, and with the current weather if they did go down in the Canadian arctic it's unlikely they survived.

    (Showing Page 6 of 9)

    ► FlowerPower     (Unverified Cape)
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    @SnickerSnack
    Listen, I've been paying attention in the Maelstrom thread, and it's one thing that this kid lost her secret identity due to that first video and her later temper tantrum, but those videos also kind of show that she kinds of needs serious help and supervision she probably won't get elsewhere, and she's already caused injuries and deaths. She's powerful enough to fuck up a lot, but she seems to have serious anger issues as well.

    ► Oddball (Screwy)
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    I don't think that'll help though Flower. I heard from someone who works at the hospital, and they say that Maelstrom suffered brain damage from whatever happened to her. They think that's why her powers went out of control for a while.

    ► FeatheredBullets
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    Wait, what?

    ► TrueBeliever (Dedicated Skeptic)
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    @Oddball
    Sure you did buddy. And I heard through the grapevine that Eidolon's actually three midgets in a trenchcoat. Come back when you have something verifiable.

    ► Good_Girl
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    Huh, her having suffered a brain injury or transformation of the brain would actually explain some things. Her power would run out of control for a while, and if her body is regenerating or reshaping itself it would explain why the loss of control would stop after a while. And if she actually became an elf as others have claimed, it would mean that she essentially became a beautiful butterfly that emerged from her cocoon. That is cool! :D

    ► Clemantine43
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    That's not cool, that's terrifying. Will we get other capes like that in the future? I certainlu hope not.

    ► PsychoPoet
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    I can tell you that The Cape Regulation Party over here in not so merry old England is going to use what's going on your side of the Atlantic to push through some much needed laws. This has gone well past the point of believability for accidents and gone straight into blatantly malicious homicide. I pray the victims and their families get justice for the hundreds of deaths and suffering this young punk has caused, unlike what happened with the Temple Meads attack(1).

    (1) For all you who have forgotten the attack nearly five years ago when Detonate turned every Pigeon at the Bristol Temple Meads into biological bombs causing hundreds to die? You know the one that all of you bastards have forgotten about?

    *Please stop spamming other threads, I understand from several of your posts that you had family at Temple Meads but repeatedly bringing it up in multiple different threads is a violation of the rules. Stay on topic and please don't also bring your politics into it as well. You are on thin ice as it is. Stop.* - Judge

    ► eighteenzombies     (nomnomnom)
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    As much as I agree that that's offtopic, he does have a point that this girl has hurt a lot of people and needs punished for that.

    ► PsychoPoet
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    Hurt? Try killed! And don't any of you other villainous cocksuckers make excuses for the murderous cunt!

    *Consider yourself permanently banned from the thread, as well as banned from the forum for a week considering your history. Do not disobey staff directives again, or you may be looking at a month long forum ban at a minimum.* - Judge

    ► Bagrat     (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
    Posted on January 12th, 2011:
    There have been some arrests already. Most Court Records are publicly available after all. This shitshow isn't over yet.


    End of Page. 1, … 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9


    (Showing Page 9 of 9)

    ►Scriv     (Moderator)
    Posted on January 13th, 2011:
    Well, that escalated quickly. Thread locked.


    End of Page. 1, … 7, 8, 9


    ♦ Topic: KITTIES! WHY? BECAUSE KITTIES!
    In: Boards ► Watercooler Talk
    ThatInsaneGuy (Original Poster)
    November 28th, 2010
    So we all know that kitties and cats are awesome, so here is our thread to link to neat videos and pictures and clips of them being adorable fuzzballs. :D

    (Showing Page 30 of 30)

    ►Stalking Tanuki     (Veteran Poster)
    Posted on January 13th, 2011;
    This cat has seen some things. Terrifying things. :3

    ►M.Night (Moderator)
    Posted on January 13th, 2011;
    Hehe, that shit is amusing Tanuki. Also, threadtax.:D
    Unlikely Friends!


    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, … 28, 29, 30


    ♦ Topic: 2011 India Endbringer Attack Update (SUPER IMPORTANT NEWS)
    (Thread Locked) (Thread Pinned)
    In: Boards ► Places ► World
    Judge (Original Poster) (Moderator)
    Posted on February 16th, 2011;
    Hello ladies and gentlemen. After discussion among staff, it was decided that today I would be the one to declare some super joyful news (after we made a subforum exclusively for talking about this subject alone). This honestly has me choked up to announce it, and has been confirmed and verified by the PRT, Protectorate, The Guild, the US State Department, India's government, and even the CUI (though news from the CUI is always considered suspect, it does back up what the other national governments and organizations have said). That is why every user here has received a board-wide notice. News organizations across the globe are just now being made aware of what we are about to tell you here.

    The news you're all waiting for?

    Leviathan is dead!:D

    Leviathan was killed in India (Leviathan was also present and hostile during the attack by the Simurgh), and the Simurgh's attack on India is officially considered to have failed in its main objectives.

    Every person at India who fought against the Simurgh played a role not only in stopping the Simurgh, but also in helping bring about Leviathan's death, but these are the names of the individuals that played the biggest roles in actually making it happen.

    They are:
    #1. Mjolnir (now known as Erik Olsson. May he Rest In Peace)
    #2. Farseer
    #3. दूरनज़र (best English translation is "Farsight")
    #4. अंतरिक्ष की राजकुमारी (best English translation is "Princess Of Space")
    #5. Le Faucon Blanc (best English translation is "The White Falcon")
    #6. Die Heilige Truppe (best English translation is "The Holy Troop").

    Also of note, these groups also helped determine that the Simurgh's goals failed and that the situation did not require quarantine of New Delhi, and they also deserve a great deal of appreciation for their work:
    #1. The Parahuman Response Team
    #2. The Protectorate
    #3. WEDGDG
    #4. The Guild
    #5. The Red Fist

    In order to avoid the news of this wondrous event from clogging up things, a new subforum will be created solely for celebrating and talking about the deaths of the Endbringers. And yes, we are very much aware that multiple Endbringers attacking at once is a new and terrifying thing. Future Endbringer threads will have new thread-rules put in place to address this as well.

    Today the world gained a bit of hope. We now know the Endbringers can not only be stopped, but that they can be killed. Today is a day of celebration! :D


    End of Page. 1


    0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o​

    Private Messages from Gallant:

    Vista    : How is it going? You can tell me, right?
    Gallant: It's...frustrating. They want me to do the same thing ten times and then another thing twenty times. I tell them what I can do and no one listens.
    Vista: That sounds great. /s
    Gallant: My initial test wasn't anywhere near this bad.
    Vista: Guess they want to make sure what changed with your power maybe? Like super duper sure?
    Gallant: Maybe. Hey lunch break is over, talk to you later okay?
    Vista: I'll hold you to that!


    Private Messages from Battery:

    Vista    : Hey, can I get console duty? I need out of the house.
    Battery: Yeah, I can help make sure that happens. If you need anything else, just tell me, k?
    Vista: Thanks. Appreciate it.
    Battery: Hey Vista, can you come to the Rig real quick? Armsmaster wants to talk with you. Something super important came up, and he wants to tell you what to expect before you hear anything from the PRT and from him 'officially'.
    Vista: O...kay? Did Clock mess something up? Or did someone else get hyrt?
    Battery: No one is in trouble and no one is hurt, but I think something big happened given how he's acting. I don't know what's going on either tho.
    Vista: K, be there soon.


    0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o​


    Missy Biron hated Monopoly.

    She had a love-hate relationship with board games, but it was mostly hate. Looking at a board game meant to be played with friends or family had a habit of reminding her how much life sucked. Especially her life. Friends? Kind of. Family? Forget it. Which was why she found herself counting out two big ones out of a pile of twenties as the bank while her shoe languished in the Grand Canyon. Because she hated Monopoly, and it seemed was the only one that hated it. Board games meant competition and competition meant arguments, oneupmanship and cheating. There was nothing good about board games, not even when it was just Chris and Dennis fighting over the dice. Which meant there was nothing good about Monopoly.

    She'd been outvoted.

    "Two hundred for Avni." Avni Singh was an Indian girl with brilliant green eyes and heavily tinted goggles made for a cyclops. She was still dressed in hospital pajamas. The simple white shirt that buttoned up in the back, white pants of the same material with Alexandria sneakers. She was only a year older and Vista had wished more than once for another girl on the team. One that wasn't a complete and total jerk like Stalker. Wish granted.

    In the worst way possible.

    The only reason Stalker wasn't going to jail was because she was in a coma, Dean was being retested, and she was off the team, indefinitely. It was something something Thinkers think Scion non-euclidean spacial warping that she didn't quite get the technobabble, but it meant something big. Big enough that she was here in LA, California. Big enough that she got a new team. That was where Avni came in. She'd been in medical containment for a while and was still being tested. Reason for the weird goggles? She had a third eye.

    That kills people.

    She didn't know much about second triggers, but if they were anything like first ones, then they were awful.

    Avni was a third trigger.

    Yikes.

    She forked over the play cash, pouting only a little. Okay, maybe a lot. Being bank sucked and it just got worse when you were poor.

    Her roll. The urge to warp space a little to see how she could mess with the dice was ignored. Six.

    Yes? Yes! Pass Go!

    She counted out another two hundred for herself and then raised her voice to make sure she was heard. "Mike roll next."

    "- there is going to be no end to this shitshow, Glenn, I'm telling you." Mike's end of the table looked like kindergarten had vomited all over it. It was covered in blank paper, colored pencils and crayon along with those letter blocks stolen from some baby somewhere, lots of sawdust, monopoly money and a giant caramel frappuccino. He had his cellphone trapped between his ear and his shoulder as he sketched out another costume, blue highlights this time. He grabbed the dice, rolled and moved his wheelbarrow five spaces landing on the Louisiana Purchase. He pulled his phone away and reached for his pile of money. "Buying that." After handing over the money he held up his latest drawing so their last player could take a look at it. "Behar?"

    "Better," Avni's friend? Sister? said with a noticeable accent as she rolled the dice. She then groaned as she nudged her thimble into jail. "Shit."

    "Pffft." Vista clapped a hand to her mouth immediately, but the damage was already done. She didn't just 'pfft' the Endbringer Slayer, did she?

    She did.

    She totally did!

    Behar Şehîd was the kind of woman that looked like she could be a model, but in a good way and not blonde bimbo way. Her hair was mostly Avni's shade of dark, dark red-brown, but she had a lock of pure white on her hair line. There were other patches of albino on her scalp along with pale blue eyes that gave her an exotic look even in jeans and a red sweater.

    She also killed Leviathan.

    Which was crazy.

    Her power was wormholes. She could touch any object and link it to any other object she'd ever touched before. Once linked she could travel between the two points or de-link them. The de-linking destroys the object. Demonstrating that was why there was a lot of sawdust on the table. And apparently anything touching the object gets destroyed at the time. Like an Endbringer. Not all of it. Leviathan's corpse was out there somewhere, probably a government lab. They had a weak point, as much as any of them could be 'weak.' Point was, you break it, they die and Behar broke it.

    Taylor Hebert used Avni to make sure she got the chance to.

    Hebert was the reason she was on this team.

    Or more like, Hebert's storms were the reason she was on this team.

    Avni grinned the kind of grin Dennis would have called 'shit eating' as she rolled. That grin wilted when she pulled yet another chance card and ended up trotting her rich ass car piece to jail.

    "Ha!" Vista blurted out. "I take it back, roll chance cards. Roll all the chance cards."

    "Do I really have to?" Avni said with a whine. Her accent sounded like she came right off Brockton Bay's streets. There was a story there Vista wasn't sure she wanted to know. The Indian girl clutched her cash like it was her first born.

    " - an elf. Figured we want to go the opposite way with presentation." Mike said as he grabbed the dice. He pulled the phone away again. "House rules," he sang as his dice clattered to the table. The cafeteria in the LA PRT building was way nicer than Brockton Bay's, which was all kinds of unfair. Everything looked brand new with white shiny plastic and padded chairs and a tablet for ordering food during meal hours and a snack bar open 24/7. "Aaannnd buying that too."

    "It's a stupid rule," Behar grumped, counting out half of her cash to hand over so she could get out of jail on her turn.

    "Bail is an awesome rule," Vista countered, taking the money. A dice roll later and she was taking Avni's money too.

    Okay, so being bank was pretty alright. Lots of -

    What was that word?

    Sadden - schaden - schadenfreude.

    That.

    She was still not going to win though.

    As Mike rolled again, still talking to his boss on the phone, Vista was in the perfect position to see out the cafeteria door and down the hall to the elevator doors. They opened and out stepped this guy with wide dark sunglasses and a white costume with a green tabard like some kind of medieval knight and Eidolon.

    And they were coming this way!

    Vista sat up straighter and reflexively searched for wrinkles in her costume to straighten. Avni followed her line of sight and also sat up.

    "Hey Cad!" She called down.

    "Hey, squirt." Mr. White and Green's tanned face broke into a wide grin, reminiscent of Dean's smile as he raised a hand in greeting. Eidolon passed them with a nod of the head, heading straight for the snack bar. Guess he was hungry? As soon as 'Cad' reached them, he plopped into a chair on the table across from them. "Ooh, monopoly. Who's winning?"

    Avni and Behar just kind of looked at each other.

    "500."

    "650."

    "Damn," Avni muttered.

    Mike took a big fat slurp of his frappuccino. "825."

    They looked at him in shock and betrayal.

    "My man!" Cad snickered, leaning forward and holding up a fist. Mike bumped it, ignoring the glares he was getting. "And you must be Vista? Did I get that right?"

    "Yeah," Vista said, glad he hadn't called her squirt number two.

    "Caduceus," he introduced himself with a nod. "On loan from PRT Toronto. I'm this one's doc. Speaking of," he turned back to Avni and smiled more gently. "Tests all came back finally, green across the board. Just keep those goggles on and you're free to be discharged tomorrow morning."

    "Yes!" Avni pumped a fist.

    Behar shrugged one shoulder and ran a hand through her hair. "About time." Her blue eyes fixed on Cad. "Couldn't have waited till tomorrow?"

    "Well I'm not actually going to be here tomorrow." His smile disappeared. "Been cleared to work on Farseer, I fly out in two hours."

    Vista felt her eyebrows jump.

    Oh.

    Oh wow.

    That was kind of a big deal. Last she had heard, no one could heal Farseer. Not even Panacea, and Panacea could heal everything short of death and brain damage.

    "I thought - " Vista started and stopped. "Uh, congratulations?"

    Caduceus barked a laugh. "Right? She's a tough cookie, I'll give her that. Her entire medical rap sheet is no bueno, do not fucking -" Mike gave him a stink eye. " - touch. God the tests alone...I think I earned my degree a third time over. Can't touch cellular time manipulation. No pressure."

    Right, no pressure.

    They continued talking, catching up or just joking around, she wasn't sure. She kind of lost track, just barely remembering to roll the dice on her turn.

    God, this meant someday soon this Endbringer kill team was going to be expected to kill Endbringers. It was all just starting to hit her, to become real. Leviathan was dead. Dead, and she was sitting next to two of the people involved in killing it. Soon, there was going to be a third on the team. An odd tremor ran down her right arm. Vista clenched her hands into fists in her lap so no one could see her shake.

    No pressure.

    Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of a blue-green and she turned in time to see Eidolon take a seat like it was a normal thing for him to do.

    It - it wasn't like he didn't need to sit or anything but it was just bizarre seeing him at a cafeteria table with a cup of coffee, straight black by the smell of it, and a pear.

    A pear.

    He noticed her look. "Holding up alright?"

    "Yes?" She inwardly cursed as her voice squeaked. "I mean, yes, I'm fine."

    He chuckled. "It's okay if you're not, we kind of sprung this on you."

    That's when she noticed everyone had gotten really quiet. Eidolon's cup of coffee disappeared into his oversized hood for a moment. "Thank you for sticking around," he began. "We kind of sprung this on all of you and I apologize for it." He paused. "You might have noticed, we pulled some strings. Vista is here from East-North-East branch of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay, Caduceus from Toronto and the two of you," He gestured with the pear. "On loan from the Indian government. That because we believe that we have a real chance to make a difference here and by we, I mean the Federal government of the United States."

    Oh okay.

    No pressure.

    "We're still hammering out the small details, but you've probably heard why you're all here."

    "Killing Endbringers," Behar calmly stated.

    "Right." Eidolon paused again and Vista got the strangest feeling that he wasn't used to this. The small group speech making thing or maybe it was a speaking to this group thing that was the problem. He sighed. "I'm not going to lie to you, it's a tall order. Leviathan wasn't planned. We're trying to make lightning strike two more times."

    "Only twice?" Behar said with a mocking undertone. Avni hissed and kicked her under the table. "That's all?"

    For a second, Eidolon froze. Then he relaxed, shrugging his shoulders. "We hope."

    "Hope?" Behar murmured.

    "Hope is a dangerous thing," Avni quietly said. "We shouldn't rely on hope alone."

    "Well said bahana," Behar replied with that kind of sharp edged smile.

    "No, we shouldn't," Eidolon agreed. "We're here because hope got us this far but we can take it further. Unfortunately, that does bring me to our current issue. Farseer."

    "That's my job," Mike said. He tucked a red colored pencil behind one ear. "In three words or less, describe our resident elf? And no, you can't use the term elf."

    Behar looked away, twirling a lock of hair around a finger, but her jaw was clenched like she was grinding her teeth. "Arrogant."

    Avni just smiled sadly, re-adjusting the black band of her goggles. "Intense? Really strong?" and then she shrugged.

    Caduceus tapped the table. "Delicate."

    Vista sat there like a bump on a log.

    If she was going to be completely honest?

    Taylor Hebert terrified her.

    Part of it was Stalker because yeah, if she was bullied into her trigger she wouldn't want to associate with anyone they hung out with either. Chris said she was cool, but he had also only ever saw her on a computer screen for a reason.

    No one knew     if Stalker was ever going to wake up.

    The other part was that she lived in Brockton Bay. She'd lived through the two day storm that was Hebert's trigger, and so far? She wasn't getting the impression that the storms were going to stop being a thing with her.

    A terrifying thing.

    She was too strong and Vista didn't think she could really handle it.

    And Mike just sat there sipping his overpriced Mocha while asking her what she thought about her.

    "Scary," Vista finally said and Mike gave her a smile, lifting an index finger off his cup to point.

    "Bingo." He rifled through the sheets of paper in front of him. "Really strong and scary sum up what we've been seeing from the public. And that's not a good combo. The only way to make it worse is if she's convicted of something."

    There was a moment of silence.

    "She's going to get convicted, isn't she?" Vista deadpanned.

    Eidolon sighed. "It's complicated."

    Well that was not okay.

    Mike snorted. "That's a good way to put it. Point is, we want you all to be briefed up front on what this is going to ask of you. We'll be doing our damnest to make it work - ah, here we go." He held up the drawing. It was a group picture, all done in bright, inspiring colors. Vista immediately noticed herself in the lineup with a new costume, one that didn't make her look like a little kid in a dress. It was a clean, professional look with body armor and a full helmet. It kept the color scheme of her current uniform but it looked nothing like her.

    And at the same time, everything like her.

    There was nothing in that costume that said Missy Biron. It wasn't until she saw it that she realized it was everything she wanted.

    "It's going to be tough," Mike was saying. "But with a few press releases, some speeches and a good look, I think we can pull it off."

    Avni was eyeing the drawing critically. "She was wearing something different in New Delhi."

    Mike paused. "It's concept art really. We'll be finalizing it later. In the meantime, that also means training for everyone. Team maneuvers, power exploitation, defensive tactics, you name it. Looks good for the resume and we want you guys to stay alive."

    "And that's my job," Eidolon cut in, sounding amused. "Hi. I'm your team leader."

    And Vista's mind ground to a halt.

    No pressure? Ha, how about all the pressure?


    0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o​

    AuthorNote: Big thanks to the users @Pyrion , @TheAnt , @Seraviel , @Robo Jesus , @Deatstroke , @scriviner , @Tabi , @Master Basher , and @Olive Birdy for helping write this update. Also, another round of thanks for @Seraviel and @Robo Jesus giving permission to use some of the content they both wrote for Manager in this story. :D
     
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    • Reading that PHO section was super unpleasant bc the mods were such dicks to everyone. It felt too close to home. I'm pretty sure that's what you are going for, so well done. I felt like I was reading umbridge fanfic.
     
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