Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
'The Army' sounds like a decent starting point to me.
I suggest you read Interlude 16 again.
They tried to send cameras in first and they got taken out without seeing anything clear and then they sent in another team of heroes first and they went radio silent.
They then used camera footage and other electronic records to get a profile on the cape responsible they thought they were dealing with a changer/trump and deployed a force based off that.
Bad intel getting people killed is nothing new.
And what could the army have done besides provide Nilbog with more biomass? Remember his constructs took out helicopters and some spat acid others shot spines that went through bullet proof armor. Tanks might survive but he probably would have created some new things on the spot to deal with them.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
The dude literally conquered a town and slaughtered its entire population, that's the sort of shit that you declare war over. Unless Nilbog's powers include outright ignoring physics (and there is no indication that this is the case) then there are plenty of potential ways for a conventional military to fuck him over.
For example; sustained artillery barrage. Park a couple of artillery battalions 30 kilometers away and saturate the area with fire and steel; he'll run out of viable biomass long before the artillery run out of ammunition. High altitude bombers; drop a shitton of explosives on him and cap it off with a MOAB or three, some of his hardier creations might survive that kind of pressure wave, but the man himself sure as shit won't.
'Was able to take out helicopters' is a fairly low bar, helicopter gunships are the light cavalry of modern military doctrine; they're not expected to be able to survive anything heavier than a .50 cal machine-gun at best, and ideally should be deployed into situations where the enemy has no anti-air capacity at all.
The expected response to 'some fucker outright conquered a chunk of America and fought off several of infantry squads, some helicopters and a bunch of untrained civilians with magic powers' is unlikely to be 'build a wall around him and pretend he doesn't exist', especially when said fucker is limited to the biomass of a few thousand people and whatever he can harvest from the local plant and animal life.
Like, do you seriously believe that if someone violently conquered a town in the USA, the government would respond to that by just giving up?
For example; sustained artillery barrage. Park a couple of artillery battalions 30 kilometers away and saturate the area with fire and steel; he'll run out of viable biomass long before the artillery run out of ammunition. High altitude bombers; drop a shitton of explosives on him and cap it off with a MOAB or three, some of his hardier creations might survive that kind of pressure wave, but the man himself sure as shit won't.
'Was able to take out helicopters' is a fairly low bar, helicopter gunships are the light cavalry of modern military doctrine; they're not expected to be able to survive anything heavier than a .50 cal machine-gun at best, and ideally should be deployed into situations where the enemy has no anti-air capacity at all.
The expected response to 'some fucker outright conquered a chunk of America and fought off several of infantry squads, some helicopters and a bunch of untrained civilians with magic powers' is unlikely to be 'build a wall around him and pretend he doesn't exist', especially when said fucker is limited to the biomass of a few thousand people and whatever he can harvest from the local plant and animal life.
Like, do you seriously believe that if someone violently conquered a town in the USA, the government would respond to that by just giving up?
Last edited:
- Location
- UK
Welcome to Worm where most of the population are assholes and anyone with even the slightest smidgen of authority is either evil, incompetent or both!
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
If they knew that then why did they attack at all in the first place?
Hence my previous post:
e: Incidentally, after checking the only reference to Nilbog's dead-man switch I can find is this post by Wildbow, which.... mostly boils down to 'because I say so.' It's actually parasites, not disease, that Nilbog has... but his creations are stated to degrade over multiple generations, and there is a limit to how far such parasites could physically spread, and gaah.
It's Doylist storytelling, that's what it is.
e2: Also, keep in mind this is the same story where Leviathan is both stated to only attack coastal cities, and is also stated to have attacked Madrid...
That should give you an idea of the degree of 'reality checking' Wildbow did while writing Worm.
Last edited:
- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
After global warming, Madrid is a coastal city ...
I told you and if you had actually read the interlude you would know that they had a flawed idea of what was going on before they got there the went in thinking they were fighting only one person then got swarmed by an army.
This is also a universe where people can create space-time bubbles, adapt to anything, control all insects perfectly, travel between alternate worlds, and fire lasers that can turn corners while applying other effects and that burns your sense of disbelief?
Again -air recon, as in planes or drones flying 2-3km above the town and giving you real time HD footage.
Not a camera on some buggy or attached to a helmet.
Nilbogs creations were designed to multiply when exposed to extreme heat, like explosions or a nuke.
Though drooping flechettes from extreme height (or using shells with them) would likely work.
The military, and the government likely assumed (thanks to their thinkers) that since he needs biomass, and his creations have a limited duration, they can simply outlast him. There is after all, no longer a population that could call for liberating their home.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
'Aw shit, there's a relatively small enemy army on US soil. They even defeated some paramilitary infantry strike teams, untrained civilians with magic powers and helicopters, let's just give up.'
Sounds plausible to me!
Sure, but again, unless they can outright ignore physics and create mass from nowhere, that ability has an upper limit. There is a big difference between 'multiplies when set on fire' and 'can survive being subjected to massive collateral damage for hours on end, including pressure waves, shrapnel and fire.'
Last edited:
- Location
- West Michigan
That just means they should've bombarded the town with anti-dandruff shampoo.
...Where did you think Wildbow got that idea from?
Yes but how long will it take to gather that much firepower an how do you be 100% sure its enough I mean if you assume that he is intelligent enough to take an entire town without anyone finding out until 1 or 2 days later how far outside of the town do you think he would leave a sack filled with parasites?
I think that's what tinkers believed would happen, as it would just result in a sudden appearance of mass to duplicate his creations.
Some parahumans do violate physics like that, creating mass ex-nihilo. For example Kaiser's blades.
- Location
- New Jersey
Uh...didn't you just prove my point there? That the capes bugged out real quick and left the norms to defend themselves? That there were others beside the PRT norms there on the ground?
Do we even have any idea how long it takes for the organism to secure and plant itself in a host? Hell, do we even know what vector it uses? Is it blood-borne, water-borne, in the dirt and go in through an open wound, on claws or talon, or perhaps even airborne as a spore. Piggot was injured so it hid there, maybe someone who is more healthy it goes dormant until a major injury occurs and starts incubating at the point of injury. Platelets and other markers like a concentration of white blood cells at the point of injury might be enough to trigger the spore or virus and have it start incubating there.
Re: Nilbog containment venture: Question.
Do we even know what kind of armament and equipment the PRT brought to the field for the operation? I don't it was ever listed, but don't the PRT have APCs and Helicopters? It's not that hard to mount weapons, whether they be a heavy caliber machine gun (12.7mm, 14.5mm etc), to tinker-tech DEW(Directed-Energy Weapon). They couldn't have been that stupid, could they? To go in on foot and leave behind armed or unarmed APCs and go without any kind of air-support, even if that's only a couple of guns shooting their rifles from the helicopters?
If they did actually go in with things like Helos and APCs, maybe even IFVs or LAVs, the failure of the entire affair points to moderate(among parahumans) ability to destroy light and moderately armored vehicles and, depending on if helos or anything airborne was present, it would imply some degree of anti-air capability as well.
These are all serious questions as I didn't find any answers for this.
Last edited:
- Location
- Georgia
Absloute bullshit levels of power for weldon
Toskin
Bookworm Extraordinaire
- Location
- Earth - Solar system - Local cluster
I can actually throw easy answer there. They are safe. Or more precisely, they are as safe as certain local Bug Controller allows. And food for thought, directly from WoG: Greg spotted them at Boat Graveyard and at Library. Why could that be?
Chapter 11.5 - Coiled Strings
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
- Location
- Avalon
Ancient Legos
Chapter 11.5
Coiled Strings
Chapter 11.5
Coiled Strings
Thomas Calvert was panicking.
He could admit that to himself.
What else could one do when their power suddenly gave them a distinct impression of the smell of frying circuitry and then vanished, leaving them powerless and in the wrong timeline?
In the middle of a highly critical emergency.
And what's more, it hadn't come back.
At all.
Thomas had his power fail on him before. It was common if he attempted to use it on known blind spots like Eidolon or the Endbringers. If he even attempted to use his timeline splitting and focus his decisions on or near the area of an attack he would have a migraine that threatened to lay him on his back for a week.
But his power would still be there. Always.
His contact with Cauldron seemed to like making it a game, somehow always knowing when he was basing a decision on her and messing with him in return. She consistently winked at cameras that caught her, sometimes at the same time in both timelines, just to hammer the point home that he was outclassed in every way. Even if he felt like tempting fate by trying to track or manipulate the woman in the fedora in their little worldwide game of Thinker tag and she took the game a little too near a blind spot intentionally, his power would still be around.
He'd be in pain, it would lie unused until he had recovered, but it would be there.
Now it… simply wasn't. The not-space he reached into to activate it just wasn't there, he couldn't feel it, and Thomas was feeling true fear once again. For the first time since he'd bought his power.
The worst part was, he didn't know if it was even intentional. There had been no acknowledgement from the one he believed responsible, even though his power had… crashed, or something similar, and left him with the wrong timeline. The one where his sniper took the shot at the new Ward, the Tinker with a rating so ridiculous it was obscene, and did jack diddly squat.
Even with Fedorass, as he nicknamed her privately, he was recognized. As nothing more than a game, but recognized anyways.
This Tinker, Weldon Kenfield, hadn't seemed to even notice his existence. Just a simple message about how his gigantic fucking space battleship was pissed off that his smaller spaceship had been fired at by a sniper.
Thomas saw the remotely recorded footage. That .50 caliber bullet had plinked off the obviously very much not glass, over glorified windshield like a rock off a pond. This Tinker's lack of caring may have been easily justified in what could be assumed youthful arrogance or confidence in his technology, but Thomas had an idea that he was more certain of.
He genuinely didn't know.
The Tinker 20 didn't know that he had outright canceled Thomas' power, and it was just a side effect. Glory Girl's fall from the inside of the battleship's shield testified to that.
A blind spot that outright canceled other parahuman powers, several hundred times the size of an Endbringer, and that close to him? No wonder his power was missing in action.
That was the explanation that brought Thomas comfort. It was that explanation he would cling to in the coming hours as he rapidly descended into a full blown panic attack, given how he was feeling.
He was about to call for his assistant and have him deliver some calming tea to his shaking hands when the eerie wail started up across the city.
A second time.
And it didn't stop.
Even as far underground as his base was, Thomas could hear those sirens. He knew what they meant.
He'd designed them.
He heard light drumming over the muted wail and looked around to find out what it was. It turned out that his hands had decided to shake even worse than before and were thumping his desk in time to the rhythm of his internal state of oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK.
His eyes snapped back to the thread he was actively following and he rapidly scrolled down, forcing his almost vibrating hands to comply with his whims.
No news.
The sirens kept on even as he hurriedly refreshed the page. Mosaic was sturdy but calling it fast on the best of days was disingenuous at best.
Another part of him was busy having a full blown panic attack, but he was made of sterner stuff than most. He was able to compartmentalize.
For a few minutes, anyways.
Thomas rapidly scanned down the last page and felt the blood drain from his face.
His earlier assumption was incomplete. Weldon didn't know, he didn't care, and more importantly, he was fucking insane.
A banging at the armored bunker door of his office startled him out of his wide-eyed ghost stare. "Sir!" Pitter's voice came over the intercom. "The Simurgh is on its way!"
Thomas couldn't help it; he accidentally allowed a sound similar to that of a terrified cat out of his mouth.
Thomas was going to kill him.
Somehow, some way, he swore he was going to end that migraine inducing Tinker's existence.
The last few hours had not been kind to Thomas. Only once the kid had moved his ship away from the Bay and up the coast had his power returned. He'd immediately used his other timeline to bleed off his panicking, a few goes of it quite literally, and then started making plans the moment he was done.
All of which died whimpering deaths when Weldon's importance skyrocketed as he stood outside the White House getting medals from the fucking President.
As if that wasn't enough, only three hours afterwards the ship had returned to Brockton and resumed hovering over it like a spectre, both nullifying his power again and giving him a huge migraine as if to chide him for even beginning to believe he might have a chance against its master.
With his ability to plan and the safety of his two timelines gone, he threw up his hands and stormed back to his office.
Even that bastion had failed to be entirely secure.
The first sign something was off was the jazzy piano music emanating from his office. Well, that and the open vault style door.
The second was the fedora sitting on the only table visible from the hatchway into his office, placed so it faced him head on.
Thomas groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. He was not in the mood for this.
"Loitering is rude, you know," came Contessa's melodic, ordered tones.
Thomas continued inside and finally got a chance to see his… guest. "So is trespassing," he deadpanned.
She just shrugged, her short trench coat bobbing with the action, as she sipped on a glass of what he recognized as one of his very expensive wines. "Hakuna Matata, Thomas. I've heard it's a wonderful thing. Might've helped with that panic attack you had earlier too."
His brain actually hurt, that's how little sense she made. Not that it was surprising that she knew his mental stability had momentarily left him. What the hell was she even saying? Hackube Mawhatnow? "What?"
Contessa shrugged again and crossed her legs, pointing towards the loveseat opposite her with her foot. "Sit with me. We have much to discuss. And you have a choice to make."
Thomas' mood instantly darkened. He nevertheless proceeded to sit down as indicated. This woman played with him, but not even the new dumbass Tinker scared him more than her. "Fine," he seethed, gritting his teeth. "Is this about the favor I owe?"
Contessa seemed to consider his query for a moment. A soft dulcet voice began to sing along with the slow, relaxed jazz, but he paid the man no mind. It was something unimportant about strings disappearing or something anyways.
Clearly it meant something to Contessa though, because she shook her head. "No, no favors," she seemed to decide right there on the spot. Thomas knew better, everything she did was planned even if it looked unplanned, but that would've fooled someone else. "This is about your future." She sighed and stared wistfully at her wine glass. "Our future."
Thomas frowned. "My future? Our future? Wha-" he began to demand.
Contessa locked eyes with him and suddenly he didn't feel so adamant. "You must cease all operations with the new Tinker," she declared.
Thomas opened his mouth to refute her, then thought better of it. "May I ask why?"
She nodded and leaned back. "You may."
He stared at her expectantly, but she just seemed mildly amused.
Then he realized and sighed at himself. "Why do I have to do that?"
"Do what?" she teased.
Thomas growled. "Don't play games with me Contessa, not about this," he demanded. "Not about the domain you gave me."
Contessa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Very well." She looked back down at her glass and began swishing the wine around, resting her head on her other hand via the arm braced against her couch. "The Paths have all changed. It's not worth it. What we did... and what you did and plan to do, continuing that way all leads to the end of the world. All worlds."
Thomas found himself gaping at her.
"I'm not messing with you this time," she assured him.
He couldn't do anything but stare.
"You're going to need a drink for this," she informed him, bringing out his expensive wine bottle and an already filled glass from who knows where. She placed them both on the clear glass table between Thomas' loveseat and her couch.
Thomas didn't even hesitate. If she said he needed a drink to stomach something, it was going to be bad. He took the glass and downed it in one go. His hands trembled even worse than when he had experienced his power failing earlier.
Contessa put her own glass down on the center table and leaned towards him, clasping her hands on her knees. "It all started with a girl, a knife, and a frankly pathetic case of inebriated interstellar driving…"
"The only way forward is through Weldon and his technology. Scion's future reaction won't allow anything else," Contessa finally finished, taking the final sip of her wine in nearly perfect timing.
Thomas sat there, staring at her like she was insane. Something he wasn't leaving off the table of consideration.
"It's all true, Thomas," Contessa interrupted his thoughts. She gave him a pained smile accompanied by haunted eyes that were far older and had seen much more than she seemed to be.
Thomas gulped. "That is… a significant amount of information to digest," he stated.
Contessa laughed. Laughed. "That's one way to put it," she agreed, nodding. She leaned towards the table to pour herself more liquid coping mechanism.
Thomas looked down at his glass and started swirling his wine around, contemplating his whirling thoughts. She seemed content to let him do that, the only sounds his own glass swishing, her drinking which was far louder than it normally sounded, and the piano.
Finally he looked up at her and sighed, resigned to his fate. "Me, a hero?" Thomas asked, still somewhat perplexed. Just because he knew she was right didn't make it sound any more sensible.
Contesa sighed as well, staring off into space. "We're all heroes now," she whispered. "We have to be. Weldon is the only way forward." She turned to look at Thomas, and the once more haunted look in her eyes sent a chill down his spine. "We're either the heroes or the villains, and we can't stand against him. We just… can't."
Thomas swallowed, the sound accompanied by the soft strokes of piano keys.
Contessa looked back at her drink. "Make sure you're non threatening," she continued. "He seems to be more likely to listen if you are."
Thomas scoffed and gestured down at his black, snake coiled costume. "How am I supposed to do that?" he asked.
Contessa didn't answer. She just held out her hand, and he got a good look at the item she'd been clutching in it the whole time.
Thomas blinked. "You have to be joking."
"Nope."
Thomas looked back up at her and found her gazing directly at him, mirth in her eyes.
"You're doing this to me on purpose!" he accused.
Contessa shrugged, setting the thing wiggling. "Doesn't mean you have a choice," she pointed out.
Thomas' eyes fell towards the thing and he growled. "I hate you sometimes," he snapped, yanking it out of her loose grip.
She just reclined further on her seat and put her now free hand up on the couch. "Good luck!" she singsonged.
It sounded almost genuine.
The chime to the Wards common room rang out. Lisa and I were both already in costume due to just having returned from Washington.
It was also a school night, and nobody else had a Presidential pardon to skip out except us.
Well, except me. Lisa didn't need one.
I raised an eyebrow towards the equally curious blonde, then shrugged and got up to answer the door.
On the other side was a tall, thin, and very dark skinned man I recognized easily as Thomas Calvert. He was in the system as someone who had nominal command over us Wards due to his technically still active Commander rank and current consulting prowess.
I raised my eyebrows. "Commander Calvert," I greeted him respectfully. The man was a legend on par with the Director, he deserved it, even if I was bone dead tired from my day. "Can I help you?"
The moment I said his name, Lisa squeaked. Squeaked. She quickly bolted towards the door and peaked out from under my arm.
Thomas and Lisa's eyes met.
He scowled.
Huh. Do they know each other? I wondered.
She got that faraway look she gets when she is using her power. Her eyes flicked down to his pants pocket for some reason.
And then she collapsed backwards, bursting out laughing.
I was so tempted to read her mind then and there, but I held off. Thomas, as high up as he was, still wasn't cleared to know of my Alteran abilities… and I was basically falling asleep just walking.
So I merely rolled my eyes and sighed, pointing back over my shoulder at my cracking up teammate. "Ignore her, she does this sometimes. Do you need help, Commander?"
Thomas' frown deepened, but he shook himself and sighed. A moment later he was all smiles again. It was genuine, that much I could tell from the empathy I still couldn't shut up. "Yes actually," he began, reaching into his pocket. "I'm here to turn myself in."
Lisa laughed even harder while I blinked in surprise. "Uh… what?" I asked, positive I hadn't heard him correctly.
He sighed and pulled out a rubber chicken from his pocket. He offered it to me. I was too shocked to refuse, so he was able to leave the chicken in my hand and step back slightly. He then stopped and held up his hands. "I'm Coil. I have been advised to turn myself into you for one of the chances at..." he grit his teeth, but powered onwards anyways. "redemption you seem to be getting the PRT to give out these days."
My jaw dropped, eyes wide. I couldn't believe my ears, even with having Hyperion scan his brain for a set of Coronas. Which, of course, it found.
Lisa was actually hysterical, rolling on the floor and crying due to how hard she was laughing.
Thomas Calvert, 'Coil', sighed. "I surrender."
I blinked at him, looked down at the chicken, and then back at his entirely serious face. "Dude, is this prank the new Ward day for the universe or something?" I asked offhandedly, only half seriously.
Thomas looked at me like I was nuts. "What?"
I sighed and shook my head. "Fine. Whatever." A single brush of his thoughts showed the truth of his identity and not just the fact he had superpowers, which made this official business.
Official business I wasn't remotely interested in handling that night.
"Either go talk to some PRT agents and turn yourself in that way, or don't do anything bad and come back after school tomorrow," I informed him, beginning to close the door. "I'm too tired to deal with this shit tonight."
Thomas, in the single second before the door closed in his face, looked entirely and totally dumbfounded. "Wait, are you ser-" was all he managed to get out.
Then the door closed and I was left with a hysterically shaking and sobbing from laughter Lisa.
I groaned, dragged my hand down my face while sort of tossing my hand at her dismissively, and headed to my personal Ward bedroom.
I would deal with everything tomorrow. No more bullshit, sleepy Weldon time.
Last edited:
- Location
- Georgia
Wait this is a self insert right? So why doesn't he know who coil is?
- Location
- Here
Dude rewrote his own species, some memory loss may occur.
- Location
- Georgia
So when can I expect some more broken adventure?
- Location
- Here
Don't want to hijack this story thread, it is one I love. Good character design, fun feel to it. Also, interesting concept for a power without the story falling apart just because the mc is op.
As for my stuff, just keep an eye open on Friday or so.
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
- Location
- Avalon
Indeed!
That is a good question, isn't it. Why did he call the shuttles puddle jumpers?
A possible explanation, to be sure.
The moment one of my readers joked about it I knew it had to be done. The entire interlude was rewritten to accommodate the chicken. And it was worth it.
Huh?
Oohhh. Hey, a fellow author! Nice to meet you! Thanks, I do try to keep my stories from breaking despite the general level of ludicrous firepower involved.
sneaks off to go read 160k+ words