I don't think Father is in a state to do anything with the Sector V treehouse.
FATHER QUEST - A Cartoon Network: Villains Victorious CK2-Style Quest Cross Over
- Thread starter HellaCooltricks
- Start date
Interlude: Apology By Hand
The foetid waters of the Swim lapped against the crater's edges. Every time the slopping water kissed the walls, it carried away clumps of loose soil, adding over time to the severity of the steep dropoff. A peppering of broken pipes jutting from the crater's edge at mismatched angles spewed a stream of grey water into the hole faster than it could absorb into the soil. The cross section of the suburb's underground plumbing system acted like tree roots or rebar; they anchored the Swim's dirt walls and kept it from collapsing. Or at least, from collapsing completely.
Hex floated out over the lip of the crater to survey the damage.
The garage side of an unfortunate family's three-bedroom prefab had crashed into the Swim along with dozens of tonnes of dirt disturbed by recent rains. The eggbasket of an entire household's wealth (plus station wagon) sinking deeper by the minute.
The parents -- a man and woman -- watched Hex with wide eyes from a safe distance through the doorway of the still-intact portion of their house. Their kids were nowhere to be found. It was a weekend. Evidently, they had sent them away somewhere while he worked.
He turned to them. "To have just escaped the initial blast, yet suffered even on the periphery… It is a grave misfortune. I shall set my power to rectifying it."
"You… mean you can fix it?" The woman asked. "How?"
"The forces I control are beyond your mortal ken." Hex said. "Know only that I have sworn an oath of loyalty to your liege. It is the duty of the powerful to see to the fates of those beneath them."
He raised his staff.
"Habitatio Arachnea Crura."
A crack rang out across the cul-de-sac. The man yelped and hid behind his wife. They looked on in horror as the waterlogged siding boards peeled off of the walls of their home, unfurling into spindly segmented legs. With a tremendous groan of creaking wood, the legs began to drag the house up the side of the crater, using wastewater pipes as footholds.
The trembling couple screamed as their garage clawed its way up and over the lip of the Swim and came barrelling right at them.
Hex drew an arcane symbol in the air, issuing a second command: "Geminae Partes Reformationis!"
The two halves linked up again, wood knitting together like healing tissue. The completed structure began to rumble. The owners threw themselves out the doorway just in time before the main part of the home raised up in the air behind the garage like a wooden spider's bloated abdomen. Its garage door rolled open and shut, gnashing expectantly as it waited for Hex's orders.
"The foundations are unsafe. It would not do to remain here," Hex mused.
"But we--"
"It is not your place to worry. That is my burden. What trade do you practise?"
The husband fainted dead away. His wife caught him. "Wuh-wuh-wuh-we're technicians at the, um, the stapler factory. Sir."
Hex whispered the directions into his staff. The house-spider listened intently. Then it turned and scuttled down the street away from the crater heading in the direction of AdultCo's industrial park.
"It will relocate nearer to your place of work." Hex told them. "I had intended for you to ride along with it. But I see you prefer to walk. Now, is there anything else I might help you with?"
The couple took one look at each other, and ran as fast as their legs would carry them after their home without so much as glancing back.
Hex sighed and resumed his rounds. Alighting where the damage was worst. Repairing. Relocating. Casting wordlessly as he simmered in his thoughts.
He took a listless path, simply following wherever he saw shattered glass. Few of the families whose homes he repaired came out to greet him. Those who did rarely thanked him. Most just looked at their feet until he left. It was all the same everywhere.
They were afraid. Of him? Unsurprising.
Hex was High Scholar of the Kingdom of Zoraster. Noble blood coursed through his veins, and magic all the more potent for it. If they understood their place that was only natural.
So why did he feel so unresolved?
One row of boarded windows blurred into another. Cracked pavement charred where tongues of magic flame had licked it. Hex was no stranger to such destruction.
He had watched his native plane, once verdant, razed into a charred black bone and then cracked to spill the marrow of its magic.
He himself had sundered brick and stone in crude demonstrations of force. If not for the Tennyson children, Hex might have ravaged Earth as Addwaitya had his homeland. But only to rebuild it. Or so he had always told himself.
He would have brought these small, scared people into a new age of magic. Taught them that they need not fear the things in the dark they did not understand, nor cage them within the limitations of their 'science.' Even then, Hex had ever styled himself the tutor.
He wanted that for Hope as well. The child had grown up in a neverending state of terror surrounded by violence far outside of her control. Hex's harsh lessons had always been intended to teach her strength enough that she need never fear again. In that regard, at least, he hadn't failed her. But he had cast aside her other emotions as well.
She was fearless, yes. But also pitiless. What kind of person did that make his niece?
Hex froze. He could feel a tingle of mana at the fringes of his senses. He whirled around, half expecting to see Charmcaster floating over Cleveland ready to finish the job.
Hex had absent-mindedly wandered out of the suburbs to the outskirts of the city proper. It was an understandable mistake. He counted about as many boarded windows, although it was time, not magic, that'd brought down the dilapidated buildings.
One of Hex's coworkers -- the one that always skipped -- was kneeling in the middle of a vacant lot. He whispered something into his cupped hands. When he turned them over, a ball of gummy worms spilled out and wriggled away into the dirt.
Skips looked up at Hex.
"You practise magic?" Hex asked incredulously.
Skips shrugged. "Yeah, I dabble."
"Do not hide behind false modesty." Hex scoffed. "That was a spell of animation. Flawlessly cast."
"Yeah, well. Just don't ask me to do statues. Never got the hang of golems." Skips said.
Hex touched down at Skips' side. Something crinkled under his feet. An empty Katz Kandy bag.
"Ah. Woops." Skips knelt and balled it up, chucking it across the lot into a plastic bin. "No littering. Oughta set a better example for the kids."
"What is your purpose here?" Hex demanded. "Surely you aren't casting spells merely to amuse yourself."
"Azaleas." Skips said.
"What?"
Skips pulled a seed packet from his shorts back pocket, then gestured around the edge of the lot to a perimetre of freshly dug earth.
"Yeah, I thought they'd give some colour to the place." Skips repeated. "I'd use real worms but the bait shop was closed today. These guys'll squirm around down there a week or two before they turn to mush. Give the soil room to breathe."
He began unloading rolls of sod from an old golf cart parked outside the lot. He hefted two over his burly shoulders and tossed a third at Hex.
"Catch."
Hex snapped from his bemusement just in time to catch it with his magic. He floated the sod alongside him as he followed Skips across the lot.
"You are… gardening?"
"Yep." Skips began rolling out sod like a grassy carpet.
"You possess enough of a knack for sorcery to give life to inanimate objects. Yet you instead choose to toil in the dirt."
"Yep."
"Why?"
Skips grabbed Hex's floating sod out of the air and set to work unrolling it too.
"Good for the soul. There's nothing wrong with helping people."
"You think I have been idle?" Hex narrowed his eyes. "This morning alone, I have filled three sinkholes, prevented a mudslide, repaired and relocated six homes--"
"Heh!" Skips chuckled. "Yeah, saw one a those spider houses walkin' through earlier."
"You could do so much more with magic. I could teach you."
"I'll do things my way, thanks."
Hex pinched the bridge of his nose. He bit back the anger welling in his throat.
"And what has led you to believe this--" Hex plucked a blade of grass. "--is the best use of your time?!"
"I asked."
"You…" Hex was taken aback. He fished for words. A baffled "What?" was all he dredged up.
Skips continued to roll out his sod. He paused. "Mind takin' it to the side a bit? Don't wanna grow grass over your foot."
Hex obliged.
"Yeah, I asked. I figured they'd want me to handle renovations, but folks in East Cleveland're used to dealing with broken windows on their own. Consensus was, they wanted a place they could tell their kids to play without having to worry about tetanus shots." Skips scratched his head. "I guess I'm kinda pushin' the 'No Playgrounds' thing. Don't go ratting me out on Father, huh?"
An old pickup pulled up alongside Skips's golf cart. The driver, an average looking man wearing a blue button up, honked the horn. Hex might have seen him around before during one of his patrols. Then again, he might've not.
"Ey, green thumbs! I got it!"
Skips gave the last sod roll a kick to unfurl it the rest of the way. He hurried over to the truck.
"Lo and behold. CJ appears. And here your landlady was tellin' me you weren't gonna come through."
He got out of the driver's seat, laughing. "If you didn't wanna rely on me, you shouldna pulled up in a clown car." He gave Skips's golf cart a kick.
"I told ya Cornell! It's got sentimental value!" Skips laughed back.
Hex went to see what was in the trunk that the two were so excited about. Cornell flinched away.
"Ah, shit! It's that spooky fucker!" He looked ready to bolt.
Skips held up his hands. "Easy. He's with me today."
"Seeing how us regular jackoffs live, huh?" Cornell still cast a wary eye at Hex, but his body language relaxed.
"Yeah, somethin' like that. Actually, he was gonna help us set this up. By hand."
"I…" On another day, Hex might have taken exception to that. As it was he was far too out of his element. "Yes. I am here to help."
The thing in the trunk turned out to be a pair of nets and two disassembled frames.
Skips grabbed a spraycan and began painting a set of white patterns across the grass. Hex and Cornell got to setting them up on opposite ends of the vacant lot. Hex had no idea what it was they were building, but the pieces slotted together pretty intuitively.
They worked in silence. Until Cornell abruptly spoke up. "So… is it true you're the guy who blew up that neighbourhood?"
Hex hesitated. "...No. I did not."
"Huh." Cornell handed him the other end of the net they were stringing up between the posts.
"But it was my fault." Hex added.
"How's that?"
"It was my niece." Hex told him. "I raised her. Trained her in the dark arts. If I had only… But not even I can change the past."
"Yeah, I know how it is." Cornell agreed.
Hex gave him a look. "My apprentice now wields the very source of magic as a weapon of mass destruction. What do you know of my failure?" He scoffed.
Skips elbowed him. Hex winced. Not since his beating from the Tennyson child's four armed transformation had his ribs been so badly bruised.
"Maybe not the magic stuff." Cornell admitted. "But kids. Yeah. My little cousin's in jail for aggravated robbery. He stung the clerk."
Hex decided not to ask.
"Sometimes I go and blame myself too for not being there to keep him from doing something stupid."
They finished with the nets and frames. Next, they set about building a small shed out of a kit. Hex cheated by hammering the nails in with his magic whenever Skips wasn't looking. As he worked, he mulled their conversation over and over in his head. It was his turn to break the silence.
"Are you?" Hex asked.
"Hm?"
"To blame." Hex clarified.
Cornell seemed to think about that. "Yeah. Nah. Guess it's a complicated question right? Man made his own choices. But I could've been a better role model."
They put in the door, then watched Skips finish up with the paint. He chucked the mostly empty can back into the trunk.
"Alright. That's that." He clapped off his hands.
They all stood back and admired their work.
"It's a little bare for now." Skips said. "It'll be better when the azalea bushes come in. And we'll need to get a lock for the shed so no wise guy steals any of the equipment."
Hex's curiosity finally got the better of him. "What is it?"
Cornell gave him a weird look. "I thought they were nuts for soccer in Europe."
Skips coughed. "Waaaay off the mark."
They waved off Cornell as he drove away.
"How'd that feel?" Skips asked Hex.
"Strange." Hex admitted. "It is not my custom to fraternise. Did we truly need his help?"
"It's his home." Skips said. "People tend to like having a hand in what goes on where they live. Turnin' their houses into spiders, even if it's helping 'em… Eh. A guy feels pretty powerless when he sees someone do that kinda stuff."
"So what then? Must I hobble my ability to do good?" Hex shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I have done so much harm. By my actions. By their consequences. Even using all of the power at my disposal, it will take an age before I have recouped my shame. I cannot balance the scales of karma by planting gardens."
Skips considered this. "Seems like you got it mixed up whether you want other people to forgive you, or just yourself."
"You frame it as a choice."
Skips shrugged. "Forgiveness is a person-to-person thing. You make people feel like ants, and they can only respect ya. Not forgive. That goes double when it comes to forgiving yourself."
"How can I not be on equal ground with myself?" Hex asked.
"Which 'myself' are we talkin' about?" Skips retorted. "Hex the all powerful sorcerer who can do anything? Or Hex the man?"
A moment passed as Hex internalised the question.
It struck him like a cannonball. Whatever impossible standards of strength he'd held Charmcaster to, he had also held for himself.
Hex let out a long breath. "It seems so obvious in hindsight. I am my niece's uncle. How did I not realise?"
Skips scratched his chin. "You want my unsolicited diagnosis? You feel like you slouched when that kid needed ya, so you're tryin' to compensate. Treating all of this like it's just your responsibility insteada the whole community. That, plus a helping of that old school noblesse oblige."
"I remain a High Scholar of Legerdomain." Hex huffed. "...But this is not Legerdomain. I should do better to remember that."
Skips clapped him on the back. "Getting there."
Hex floated out over the lip of the crater to survey the damage.
The garage side of an unfortunate family's three-bedroom prefab had crashed into the Swim along with dozens of tonnes of dirt disturbed by recent rains. The eggbasket of an entire household's wealth (plus station wagon) sinking deeper by the minute.
The parents -- a man and woman -- watched Hex with wide eyes from a safe distance through the doorway of the still-intact portion of their house. Their kids were nowhere to be found. It was a weekend. Evidently, they had sent them away somewhere while he worked.
He turned to them. "To have just escaped the initial blast, yet suffered even on the periphery… It is a grave misfortune. I shall set my power to rectifying it."
"You… mean you can fix it?" The woman asked. "How?"
"The forces I control are beyond your mortal ken." Hex said. "Know only that I have sworn an oath of loyalty to your liege. It is the duty of the powerful to see to the fates of those beneath them."
He raised his staff.
"Habitatio Arachnea Crura."
A crack rang out across the cul-de-sac. The man yelped and hid behind his wife. They looked on in horror as the waterlogged siding boards peeled off of the walls of their home, unfurling into spindly segmented legs. With a tremendous groan of creaking wood, the legs began to drag the house up the side of the crater, using wastewater pipes as footholds.
The trembling couple screamed as their garage clawed its way up and over the lip of the Swim and came barrelling right at them.
Hex drew an arcane symbol in the air, issuing a second command: "Geminae Partes Reformationis!"
The two halves linked up again, wood knitting together like healing tissue. The completed structure began to rumble. The owners threw themselves out the doorway just in time before the main part of the home raised up in the air behind the garage like a wooden spider's bloated abdomen. Its garage door rolled open and shut, gnashing expectantly as it waited for Hex's orders.
"The foundations are unsafe. It would not do to remain here," Hex mused.
"But we--"
"It is not your place to worry. That is my burden. What trade do you practise?"
The husband fainted dead away. His wife caught him. "Wuh-wuh-wuh-we're technicians at the, um, the stapler factory. Sir."
Hex whispered the directions into his staff. The house-spider listened intently. Then it turned and scuttled down the street away from the crater heading in the direction of AdultCo's industrial park.
"It will relocate nearer to your place of work." Hex told them. "I had intended for you to ride along with it. But I see you prefer to walk. Now, is there anything else I might help you with?"
The couple took one look at each other, and ran as fast as their legs would carry them after their home without so much as glancing back.
Hex sighed and resumed his rounds. Alighting where the damage was worst. Repairing. Relocating. Casting wordlessly as he simmered in his thoughts.
He took a listless path, simply following wherever he saw shattered glass. Few of the families whose homes he repaired came out to greet him. Those who did rarely thanked him. Most just looked at their feet until he left. It was all the same everywhere.
They were afraid. Of him? Unsurprising.
Hex was High Scholar of the Kingdom of Zoraster. Noble blood coursed through his veins, and magic all the more potent for it. If they understood their place that was only natural.
So why did he feel so unresolved?
One row of boarded windows blurred into another. Cracked pavement charred where tongues of magic flame had licked it. Hex was no stranger to such destruction.
He had watched his native plane, once verdant, razed into a charred black bone and then cracked to spill the marrow of its magic.
He himself had sundered brick and stone in crude demonstrations of force. If not for the Tennyson children, Hex might have ravaged Earth as Addwaitya had his homeland. But only to rebuild it. Or so he had always told himself.
He would have brought these small, scared people into a new age of magic. Taught them that they need not fear the things in the dark they did not understand, nor cage them within the limitations of their 'science.' Even then, Hex had ever styled himself the tutor.
He wanted that for Hope as well. The child had grown up in a neverending state of terror surrounded by violence far outside of her control. Hex's harsh lessons had always been intended to teach her strength enough that she need never fear again. In that regard, at least, he hadn't failed her. But he had cast aside her other emotions as well.
She was fearless, yes. But also pitiless. What kind of person did that make his niece?
Hex froze. He could feel a tingle of mana at the fringes of his senses. He whirled around, half expecting to see Charmcaster floating over Cleveland ready to finish the job.
Hex had absent-mindedly wandered out of the suburbs to the outskirts of the city proper. It was an understandable mistake. He counted about as many boarded windows, although it was time, not magic, that'd brought down the dilapidated buildings.
One of Hex's coworkers -- the one that always skipped -- was kneeling in the middle of a vacant lot. He whispered something into his cupped hands. When he turned them over, a ball of gummy worms spilled out and wriggled away into the dirt.
Skips looked up at Hex.
"You practise magic?" Hex asked incredulously.
Skips shrugged. "Yeah, I dabble."
"Do not hide behind false modesty." Hex scoffed. "That was a spell of animation. Flawlessly cast."
"Yeah, well. Just don't ask me to do statues. Never got the hang of golems." Skips said.
Hex touched down at Skips' side. Something crinkled under his feet. An empty Katz Kandy bag.
"Ah. Woops." Skips knelt and balled it up, chucking it across the lot into a plastic bin. "No littering. Oughta set a better example for the kids."
"What is your purpose here?" Hex demanded. "Surely you aren't casting spells merely to amuse yourself."
"Azaleas." Skips said.
"What?"
Skips pulled a seed packet from his shorts back pocket, then gestured around the edge of the lot to a perimetre of freshly dug earth.
"Yeah, I thought they'd give some colour to the place." Skips repeated. "I'd use real worms but the bait shop was closed today. These guys'll squirm around down there a week or two before they turn to mush. Give the soil room to breathe."
He began unloading rolls of sod from an old golf cart parked outside the lot. He hefted two over his burly shoulders and tossed a third at Hex.
"Catch."
Hex snapped from his bemusement just in time to catch it with his magic. He floated the sod alongside him as he followed Skips across the lot.
"You are… gardening?"
"Yep." Skips began rolling out sod like a grassy carpet.
"You possess enough of a knack for sorcery to give life to inanimate objects. Yet you instead choose to toil in the dirt."
"Yep."
"Why?"
Skips grabbed Hex's floating sod out of the air and set to work unrolling it too.
"Good for the soul. There's nothing wrong with helping people."
"You think I have been idle?" Hex narrowed his eyes. "This morning alone, I have filled three sinkholes, prevented a mudslide, repaired and relocated six homes--"
"Heh!" Skips chuckled. "Yeah, saw one a those spider houses walkin' through earlier."
"You could do so much more with magic. I could teach you."
"I'll do things my way, thanks."
Hex pinched the bridge of his nose. He bit back the anger welling in his throat.
"And what has led you to believe this--" Hex plucked a blade of grass. "--is the best use of your time?!"
"I asked."
"You…" Hex was taken aback. He fished for words. A baffled "What?" was all he dredged up.
Skips continued to roll out his sod. He paused. "Mind takin' it to the side a bit? Don't wanna grow grass over your foot."
Hex obliged.
"Yeah, I asked. I figured they'd want me to handle renovations, but folks in East Cleveland're used to dealing with broken windows on their own. Consensus was, they wanted a place they could tell their kids to play without having to worry about tetanus shots." Skips scratched his head. "I guess I'm kinda pushin' the 'No Playgrounds' thing. Don't go ratting me out on Father, huh?"
An old pickup pulled up alongside Skips's golf cart. The driver, an average looking man wearing a blue button up, honked the horn. Hex might have seen him around before during one of his patrols. Then again, he might've not.
"Ey, green thumbs! I got it!"
Skips gave the last sod roll a kick to unfurl it the rest of the way. He hurried over to the truck.
"Lo and behold. CJ appears. And here your landlady was tellin' me you weren't gonna come through."
He got out of the driver's seat, laughing. "If you didn't wanna rely on me, you shouldna pulled up in a clown car." He gave Skips's golf cart a kick.
"I told ya Cornell! It's got sentimental value!" Skips laughed back.
Hex went to see what was in the trunk that the two were so excited about. Cornell flinched away.
"Ah, shit! It's that spooky fucker!" He looked ready to bolt.
Skips held up his hands. "Easy. He's with me today."
"Seeing how us regular jackoffs live, huh?" Cornell still cast a wary eye at Hex, but his body language relaxed.
"Yeah, somethin' like that. Actually, he was gonna help us set this up. By hand."
"I…" On another day, Hex might have taken exception to that. As it was he was far too out of his element. "Yes. I am here to help."
The thing in the trunk turned out to be a pair of nets and two disassembled frames.
Skips grabbed a spraycan and began painting a set of white patterns across the grass. Hex and Cornell got to setting them up on opposite ends of the vacant lot. Hex had no idea what it was they were building, but the pieces slotted together pretty intuitively.
They worked in silence. Until Cornell abruptly spoke up. "So… is it true you're the guy who blew up that neighbourhood?"
Hex hesitated. "...No. I did not."
"Huh." Cornell handed him the other end of the net they were stringing up between the posts.
"But it was my fault." Hex added.
"How's that?"
"It was my niece." Hex told him. "I raised her. Trained her in the dark arts. If I had only… But not even I can change the past."
"Yeah, I know how it is." Cornell agreed.
Hex gave him a look. "My apprentice now wields the very source of magic as a weapon of mass destruction. What do you know of my failure?" He scoffed.
Skips elbowed him. Hex winced. Not since his beating from the Tennyson child's four armed transformation had his ribs been so badly bruised.
"Maybe not the magic stuff." Cornell admitted. "But kids. Yeah. My little cousin's in jail for aggravated robbery. He stung the clerk."
Hex decided not to ask.
"Sometimes I go and blame myself too for not being there to keep him from doing something stupid."
They finished with the nets and frames. Next, they set about building a small shed out of a kit. Hex cheated by hammering the nails in with his magic whenever Skips wasn't looking. As he worked, he mulled their conversation over and over in his head. It was his turn to break the silence.
"Are you?" Hex asked.
"Hm?"
"To blame." Hex clarified.
Cornell seemed to think about that. "Yeah. Nah. Guess it's a complicated question right? Man made his own choices. But I could've been a better role model."
They put in the door, then watched Skips finish up with the paint. He chucked the mostly empty can back into the trunk.
"Alright. That's that." He clapped off his hands.
They all stood back and admired their work.
"It's a little bare for now." Skips said. "It'll be better when the azalea bushes come in. And we'll need to get a lock for the shed so no wise guy steals any of the equipment."
Hex's curiosity finally got the better of him. "What is it?"
Cornell gave him a weird look. "I thought they were nuts for soccer in Europe."
Skips coughed. "Waaaay off the mark."
They waved off Cornell as he drove away.
"How'd that feel?" Skips asked Hex.
"Strange." Hex admitted. "It is not my custom to fraternise. Did we truly need his help?"
"It's his home." Skips said. "People tend to like having a hand in what goes on where they live. Turnin' their houses into spiders, even if it's helping 'em… Eh. A guy feels pretty powerless when he sees someone do that kinda stuff."
"So what then? Must I hobble my ability to do good?" Hex shook his head. He squeezed his eyes shut. "I have done so much harm. By my actions. By their consequences. Even using all of the power at my disposal, it will take an age before I have recouped my shame. I cannot balance the scales of karma by planting gardens."
Skips considered this. "Seems like you got it mixed up whether you want other people to forgive you, or just yourself."
"You frame it as a choice."
Skips shrugged. "Forgiveness is a person-to-person thing. You make people feel like ants, and they can only respect ya. Not forgive. That goes double when it comes to forgiving yourself."
"How can I not be on equal ground with myself?" Hex asked.
"Which 'myself' are we talkin' about?" Skips retorted. "Hex the all powerful sorcerer who can do anything? Or Hex the man?"
A moment passed as Hex internalised the question.
It struck him like a cannonball. Whatever impossible standards of strength he'd held Charmcaster to, he had also held for himself.
Hex let out a long breath. "It seems so obvious in hindsight. I am my niece's uncle. How did I not realise?"
Skips scratched his chin. "You want my unsolicited diagnosis? You feel like you slouched when that kid needed ya, so you're tryin' to compensate. Treating all of this like it's just your responsibility insteada the whole community. That, plus a helping of that old school noblesse oblige."
"I remain a High Scholar of Legerdomain." Hex huffed. "...But this is not Legerdomain. I should do better to remember that."
Skips clapped him on the back. "Getting there."
Last edited:
Ohmaigah
Man be Vibin
- Location
- Ask Carmen Sandiego or Waldo
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I meant more so the OSI and the like. Since the KND are like, an actual terrorist group or something akin like S.P.H.I.N.X.. But they're also children doing childish acts so they didn't really have a reason to? Plus they fight costumed baddies, it's basically just Guild/OSI war BS. Sharpening claws and telling how much you won to your friends.
The KND doesn't also normally interfere with the governments Autonomy. They will do shit like fake moonlandings and turn National Icons into Cereal Bowls, but they won't say, try to kidnap politicians or bomb military bases. So better then trying to get into a Guerilla War with an International Paramilitary Organization that almost certainly outnumbers you and can make trash into fighter jets; just ignore them. They aren't really impacting the nation and you avoid a long, drawn out, likely highly unpopular conflict
- Location
- United Kigdom
This was really well writeed; Skips is the perfect kind of guy for helping with this kind of calm contemplation
Speaking of which, Katz is high on my list of Kings I both want to know more about, and am most deeply opposed to. I don't trust that murderous bastard as far as we could throw him.
daedalus725
Kell of Kells, godking of Planet X
- Location
- Daedalus crater, The moon
The What???
Ohmaigah
Man be Vibin
- Location
- Ask Carmen Sandiego or Waldo
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The Swim. That's the name of Father's territory. It's a joke on the "Adult" section of Cartoon Network.
Lifeandlice
Practitioning side-character
- Location
- Usa
It's also the name of the giant hole filled with sewage and water that was left behind after Charmcaster turned Abracadaver into a improvised explosive.
- Pronouns
- He/They
Aw, that was a sweet little sidestory. Skips is a good guy.
- Pronouns
- He/They
Hank as the barbecue guy and the only one who escapes the wrath of Slapulot.
- Location
- going at sufficient velocity
Damn that Interlude hits hard and I now want Father to interact even more with Hex, Skips, and Hank in personal moments.
Positive with these guys around Father will become a better man.
Also I didn't get notified of the update for some reason so little late thoughts on that.
I really like Hank getting Father to give Daphne a chance to prove herself and reminding Father that teens need a chance to grow to become responsible adults.
Hoping Hank gets em to change his views on regular kids who aren't terrorists as well.
Truly Hank is best bro besides hopefully Skips and Hex. I want Father to have friends.
Finally cut the K.N.D down to size which is great I want to keep Sector V's tree if possible both as a reminder of Fathers past and that he has grown beyond it into something greater.
Plus could turn into a fortress/lab/etc later.
Glad the scaffolding went great but sucks that Professor XXXL mutation went bad good thing our ice cream men are back in action.
Hope Skips get better and that we fix the factory soon along with his ritual.
Something seems fishy with the Test sisters Clones? Robotic doppelganger? Time travel?
Positive with these guys around Father will become a better man.
Also I didn't get notified of the update for some reason so little late thoughts on that.
I really like Hank getting Father to give Daphne a chance to prove herself and reminding Father that teens need a chance to grow to become responsible adults.
Hoping Hank gets em to change his views on regular kids who aren't terrorists as well.
Truly Hank is best bro besides hopefully Skips and Hex. I want Father to have friends.
Finally cut the K.N.D down to size which is great I want to keep Sector V's tree if possible both as a reminder of Fathers past and that he has grown beyond it into something greater.
Plus could turn into a fortress/lab/etc later.
Glad the scaffolding went great but sucks that Professor XXXL mutation went bad good thing our ice cream men are back in action.
Hope Skips get better and that we fix the factory soon along with his ritual.
Something seems fishy with the Test sisters Clones? Robotic doppelganger? Time travel?
Asmodemus
Subversive Element
Katz is perhaps the most horrific of all the active forces in the north American continent. That kitty is just plain wrong in ways the soul stealing Black Hat isn't. Ensuring he doesn't get power is sensible.
But if we're gonna go after him, we need to be prepared to go with all we have, without stopping, or diverting attention, because he is a ruthless sadistic monster who is absolutely warped. I'm not talking foil his plans, I am talking make him ash.
And he is rather talented and has various resources to call upon many wouldn't expect.
- Location
- going at sufficient velocity
Should do that turn after next then since I think people are planning have skips and him work together on ice cream factory.
Asmodemus
Subversive Element
Father probably would need to first get a clue of what Katz is doing.
And then care enough to do something about it.
- Location
- going at sufficient velocity
It's affecting his employees tho probably should have Father become friends with Skips to make him more invested.
Come to think of it where does the majority of our food come from? Even more reason to grab mkstuffem so have our own supplier.
Also Katz is attempting to strangle the sea lanes so if we want to actually trade or go anywhere outside America without being attacked or sabotaged by attack submarines, he needs to be taken cared of.
Guy is already a problem and ignoring him will just make things even worse. It's a matter of when and not if he'll gun for us.
Guy is already a problem and ignoring him will just make things even worse. It's a matter of when and not if he'll gun for us.
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