It...doesn't. Not a Blasphemy(aka most precog thrown off with a big red flag) effect.
You'd be more worried for stacking the figment charm deeply enough.
Actual fictional armies made real also alert all precogs
Infernal Conundrum: [Exalted/Worm] - Part 2: Hell is Other Exalts
It...doesn't. Not a Blasphemy(aka most precog thrown off with a big red flag) effect.
You'd be more worried for stacking the figment charm deeply enough.
Actual fictional armies made real also alert all precogs
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
She has gone after notable enough precogs in canon. Also: before hopes get up. There's a very Taylor principle behind not taking Elloge as favored.
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
For the same reason canon Taylor chose to be proactive in her responses rather than simply escaping into pleasant fictions: she couldn't or wouldn't permit herself to wallow in that sort of self-mortifying morbidity.
Ah...the same as with Adorjan, Malfeas and Cecelyn, even if she DOES escape into her role as Skitter, she wouldn't admit the delusion, any more than she would consider cutting off the ties that bind or accept that she would force people to accept her superior point of view.
On the other hand these aren't empty delusions but quite physical ones, so its not like its empty daydreams.
On the other hand these aren't empty delusions but quite physical ones, so its not like its empty daydreams.
In general. I've given some thought to what the Solar training charms could do in the modern setting, but haven't really looked into what Infernals can do.
I found the RAW for that one confusing. What are the actual limits?
Thats actually why I didn't do an Elloge writeup myself.
I thought this one worked on your intimacies? You cast people as what you want them to be, superseding their own thoughts on the matter.
I can't decide if that is actually a potential point of conflict or synergy between Elloge and Isidoros's charms. Both rely on your intimacies, of which you have a finite supply.
It depends on if "I want you to be X" is a valid Desire. If it is, the CCC focused Ellogian who doesn't take Indomitable Hedonism Drive and Raw Whimesy Diligence is a fool.
Depends on how Joyous Uncertainty sells it.
"The will to achieve your goals, the indomitable drive to achieve what you desire, no matter the obstacles placed in your path"
The smashy stuff comes later.
So, still campaigning for Isidoros here but you have some decent points. SWHLIHN and Elloge work together to create a rather effective emenence grise. Or a Scooby Doo villain (think about it).
Soooooooo... Isidoros?
Question: How would you rule on DOOR-SPLINTERING JUGGERNAUT MOTION and Distance-Eliminating Efficiency Translocation working together? Do you still get to smash everything in your path? 'Cause that would be cool. One second you are at point A, then you are at point B and everything in between is in splinters. It'd sort of make us a not-people focused Black Kaze.
Even if not, is it something you'd allow us to stunt?
Last edited:
OctarineShrike
Avatar of Mandos
The version I linked says...
As for the stuff about Unfired Surrogate shot, yeah people may have a point there. I was thinking that doing that shakes the loom of fate and farks with Simurgh's timebombs.
Don't have time to try expanding on Read into Things need to go to work now. Will be on phone until this afternoon when I'm on.
Arg, took a look at the writeup again and I can see where I was mistaken.
I missed the "The Infernal may choose to interact with this object as though it were material." clause in Read Into Things, and I had completely misread CCC.
Looking at it again, CCC also gives you a Desire to see your subject succeed in the role you have given them. CCC focused Ellogian with HDI becomes ULTIMATE CYRANO!* RWD becomes less useful though.
Do we want Taylor to become ULTIMATE CYRANO?
* CCC focused Ellogian is merely Ultimate Cyrano
I missed the "The Infernal may choose to interact with this object as though it were material." clause in Read Into Things, and I had completely misread CCC.
Looking at it again, CCC also gives you a Desire to see your subject succeed in the role you have given them. CCC focused Ellogian with HDI becomes ULTIMATE CYRANO!* RWD becomes less useful though.
Do we want Taylor to become ULTIMATE CYRANO?
* CCC focused Ellogian is merely Ultimate Cyrano
Last edited:
Chrysalis 1.9
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Making yourself leave your father's bedside felt harder than anything you'd yet done today. Which made no sense, seeing how you'd fought a telefragging ninja assassin not even hours ago. Yet it was still true. You kept your seat in the hospital room for another ten, fifteen minutes, mind trying to work out all the possible problems and permutations facing you. It...it was overwhelming. For the life of you, you couldn't come up with a way to make having a secret identity work. Not with how self-evident your status as a cape was.
That was potentially a problem in a lot of ways. Your dad's injury had been a horrible accident, Fucking cars, you reflected bitterly as some small and vindictive part of your soul wondered how Detroit had escaped ever being hit by an Endbringer attack, but the parent of a public parahuman was always going to be a potential target for retaliation, leverage, and attempts to control them. He deserved better than that.
You considered asking for one of the little medical face-masks that cover the lower face to hide at least some of your features for several moments. You abandoned the idea as unworkable with a bitter laugh. Even if you hadn't been able to remember that kid from earlier snapping a picture of you, you still wouldn't have been surprised to find out someone from the waiting room had snuck photos or video of you with their phone or tablet and posted them online already.
Letting out a long sigh, you unfold your too-long limbs from where you sat in the chair. The steady, stocatto tones of the monitoring equipment your father was attached to beeped away behind you in time with the beating of his heart. You took comfort in the regularity of that, the peaceful sound of his slow, sleeping breaths. Taking a last look, for the moment, at your father, you climbed to your feet and, ducking to fit through the doorway, headed toward the hospital lobby. You still had to crouch to fit through the halls, a fact which yet again twisted the knife of your own discomfort.
<Look at it this way, Taylor. Clearly, from the way everyone but Oni Lee has been acting, you're quite pleasing to human aesthetic sensibilities now!> The chipper demon seemed irrepressable. <At least, I think. I don't know for certain; you all look like blood apes' more effeminate cousins to me. Then again, what do I know about the matter. Oh, right. A lot, actually. The King did design the apes in hateful mockery of mankind after all. Not really my fault if I knew of Erymanthoi long before I met a single mortal soul.>
<Yeah, because the crab-shaped hallucination in my head is clearly a good judge of human looks.> You only groused back half-heartedly.
<Fine. If you don't believe me about it, believe your father.>
<He's high as hell right now. And even if he wasn't, he's Dad. I'm pretty sure telling their daughter's their beautiful is somewhere between 'Because I said so' and 'Of course that doesn't make you look fat, honey' in the Dad handbook.>
Your mental hitchhiker hissed out a rattling sigh and clattering clangour. The sounds put you in mind of someone clad in kitchenware throwing their hands up in exasperation. <Fine! If you won't believe me and you won't believe your father, believe your Girl of Glory from before.>
<It's Glory Girl,> you corrected automatically, <and I have no idea what you mean.>
<She clearly thought you were 'hitting on' her.> You can hear the air-quotes locking into place around the expression in his mental voice. <And yet she played along with it, even teasing back. That isn't something someone attractive does to someone unattractive is it?>
Your mood darkened and your face twisted into a scowl, remembering times boys from your classes took you on false dates as a way to endear themselves to the Trio. <It is if they're making fun of her.>
There was an awkward silence as Uncertainty lived up to the second half of his soubriquet. <Er...you said she is a hero, yes? And she clearly helped you before, yes?>
<Yes,> you acceded warily, <your point is...?>
<That she does not seem the type to use underhanded means to make herself feel better. She very much seems the type to preen and bask in the implicit compliment, but only where she feels it warranted.>`
You didn't respond to that, if only because of how clearly ridiculous the idea that someone like her would think you were pretty was. Still, you sent a sense of gratitude to Joyous Uncertainty. If it was a delusion, it was a persistent and life-affirming one, for the most part. Given how many of your recent fancies had ended with you bloody-knuckled and furious, standing above your tormentors...a fantasy in which you simply...moved on? It gave you hope for your heart, for your soul. You'd been betrayed as thoroughly as was humanly possible to be. The closest person to a match to your soul, your sole confidant, the closest, most intimate, and best friernd you'd ever had had taken every pain and vulnerability you'd ever shown her and used them to systematically dismantle anything resembling self-respect over the course of years.
Though you strove to be better than that...it still took an effort for you, not to dream of violence against Emma. Sophia? MadIson? They were but strangers, sharks circling you when they smelled blood. They were contemptible, and you certainly didn't forgive them, but ultimately their hatefulness passed through you and left you fundamentally unchanged. It was Emma that truly hurt. Oh sure, you'd dreamt of breaking Sophia's legs a time or two, the better to bring her down to the level that she forced you onto. You'd imagined ruining Madison's cutesy face, itself proving that the appearance of innocence was a lie, of making her as ugly on the outside as her actions proved her to be on the inside. In your most agonized and hate-fueled moments, you'd even found your dreams filled with such revenge fantasies. But they just weren't worth it.
Besides, it was Emma that had prompted your true bewilderment. Emma was the one that had really hurt you It was Emma that tore your heart out and ripped it apart for no better reason than to watch you bleed. And that, the knowledge that whatever warped creature she'd become got off on your suffering? That was why you simply endured what it was they had to dish out. Because if you showed you bled, she won. Because if they twisted you into something vicious in their own image, they all won.
<I've said it before, but murder is still on the table as an option.> The prim mental voice breaks you from your thunder-head thoughts.
You roll your eyes and shake your head, sending back, <No, Uncertainty, it isn't.>
<I don't see why not; if you're simply worried about a matter of logistics, I can all but guarantee that no one in your world could puzzle out how exactly your charms tie to you yourself...not without having witnessed examples of them in use.>
<My what? And...still no. It's not about not getting caught. It's,> you struggled for a moment to explain something you'd never really consciously articulated to yourself, <it's about being the kind of person my mother would be proud of, rather than being whatever kind of vicious creature they want me to be.>
<Your, for lack of a better word, magic.>
You groaned internally at that. Great. If you ever tried to explain that your powers thought that they were magic...not that you thought they were magic, but that your powers themselves thought they were magic, you'd get locked in the looney bin faster than you could say, 'Six sisters Simurgh'ed the Sleeper in seven Sistine cells.'
<Or you could simply not tell anyone. Also: has anyone ever told you that you are remarkably stubborn when you've set your mind upon whatever it is you wish to believe?>
<Get used to it,> you shot back. <You're stuck with me, and I'm a Hebert. We're stubborn as hell. We take life's kicking and we keep on ticking. Well,> you amended with a pang, <most of us do.>
For a moment you were overwhelmed by a sense of well-meaning helplessness so intense and so alike to your father's frustration with your situation that you ccouldn't help but blink back tears.
<I...I'm sorry, Taylor. I didn't mean to bring up painful memories.> You felt a pulse of emotion that was clearly meant to be comforting. A small, bitter smile hit your features as you responded with a brief upwelling of gratitude.
<I, thanks, Uncertainty. I...It's.> You take a moment to order your thoughts on the matter. <It's good to know that someone besides just Dad gives a damn about me.>
ooo
Wiping your cheeks to eliminate any sign you'd been crying, you made your way into the dwindling bustle of activity outside the hospital. Paramedics, police, and hospital staff still strode about in the same ordered yet hurried rush of a kicked ant's nest, but it was less frantic, less frenetic than it had been before. The worst of the wounded had clearly been seen to, and the police had begun to sort through the arrested offenders.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you make your way over to where a familiar figure in midnight blue armor lined by highlights of silver stood in conversation with woman clad in white and orange, a crossed-sword emblem etched onto her outfit's chest. Armsmaster, the local Protectorate head, and Brandish, parahuman attourney and one of the founding members of New Wave. A thought stops you short and you begin to blush beyond your ability to hide. Maybe you should have gone with the face mask. Brandish was also the mother of Glory Girl, who thought you'd been hitting on her.
Beginning to wonder if the nine-foot tall acrobatics were just another persistent delusion, and you'd in fact triggered with the parahuman power to find the most convoluted ways imaginable to embarass yourself, you nonetheless managed to swallow your chagrin after a few moments spent gaping at two of the city's most famous heroes. Making yourself stand at your full height rather than the nervous hunch you'd folded into in the hospital, you looked down at the pair of them from better than three feet of height advantage. The pair had been engaged in a heated argument about something when you'd exited the hospital, promting the both of them to stop and turn in your direction. As your long-legged lope had carried you quickly, to them, a look had passed between the pair. There was clearly more to be said between them, but they both seemed to agree on letting you set the tone of the conversation.
That...that set you aback. Here were two of the most city's premier heroes, and they wanted to hear what you of all people had to say. A small part of your mind made a detached sort of note that Armsmaster seemed off somehow. You'd studied the information available about him before, interviews, Protectorate press releases, news stories. He'd been your favorite of the city's own heroes as a little girl, your second favorite overall, after Alexandria and the Triumvirate. Hell, you used to have dark blue panties with his logo right over the butt, and you'd always worn them when you'd tied on a fake cake and went 'whooshing' through the house playing Alexandria. That same detached portion of your mind that noticed incongruity in his appearance--he seemed somehow haggard, as though he'd not shaved in days, and his armor didn't have its usual pristine gleam to it--idly wondered if you still had those somewhere around the house, and if you did if he'd be willing to give you his autograph. And then your conscious mind realized you'd just asked yourself if a grown man would sign the ass-end of your underwear, and your conscious train of thought--along with your attempt at starting out your interactions with the city's adult heroes on a new page, as a more collected and confident you--came crashing to a glorious, earth-shattering, stuttering wreck.
As your brain strove desperately to salvage what you'd intended to say from the horrible mental mangling that realization had given you, you saw Brandish's expression go taut with concern before she turned to give Armsmaster a glare. Unaided by Joyous Uncertainty's confident assertion that Armsmaster, too, was an excellent specimen of mortality and certain to compliment 'Girl Glorious' as one of your many eventual consorts, to which you could only wail a silent and plaintive, <NOT HELPING!>, you found yourself pulled in on yourself, blinking away tears again as you hugged your spindly knees to your chest. Looking up, confused, you see Brandish standing over you, holding something out to you as Armsmaster half-raises, then hesitantly drops a gauntleted hand. Okay. Something was definitely off there. Everything you'd seen of Armsmaster before had been the dashing hero, the confident and self-assured warrior-savant. Here, he seemed at a legitimate loss. Something else was going on there.
Reaching up with one spider-spindle hand, you go to pluck the proffered business card from Brandish's outstretched hand, you freeze in place. You stare mutely at it a moment, trying to place the reason the logo seems familiar. Then you keep reading, and your stomach plummets.
Carol Dallon, Partner, Attourney at Law
The Law Firm of Dallon, Barnes, & Royce
You know exactly why the logo looked familiar. She works with Emma's dad. You feel your mind kick into that same synaptic superspeed that you'd used in your fight with Oni Lee, idly noting the startled expression both heroes have as the burning emerald and ebon eye opens again on your forehead, the gleaming glow glaring out at them. Brandish worked with Emma's dad. And you'd let your guard down around Glory Girl. You'd not even thought twice about naming names when you'd been telling her about the Trio's torments; you'd been so relieved to just have someone actually listen and believe you when you told them about the hell they'd put you through that you hadn't given the rammifications of that decision a second thought until you'd found yourself clinging to Glory Girl's arm with a yelp as she suddenly started to fly off, apparently to punish your persecutors herself. After arguing her down from her anger, you'd, well, the truth is you'd forgotten you went into the full details. Between your panic at hearing Dad had been hurt, your relief that he was okay, and the sheer overwhelming nature of everything that'd happened, you hadn't had time to really give any more consideration to that.
But Brandish worked with Emma's dad. Was a partner at the same law firm as he was. Why would she be giving you her card? Was she going to sue you? Was she warning you he was going to sue you? Was it not enough to nearly kill you? Emma had to drag your fathers into this? You hadn't told your dad about Emma's part in things for several reasons. One of them was that before...before Mom, Mr. Barnes had been one of Dad's best friends. Your whole families had been friends. And...and you couldn't bear the thought of Emma's betrayal finding a way to poison even more of your family's happy memories than it already had. You couldn't take that friendship away from your dad.
"Go ahead, Taylor. Take it." The heroine said, soothingly. You worked your mouth, mind still racing, hugging your knees again as even as you took hold of the card. That shimmering white aura was back around you. Huh. Odd. Armsmaster and Brandish both had started at something. Both stared at you. Blinking, you caught where his eyes were focused by the reflection in the hero's v-shaped visor. He was staring at a point just above your head as you sat there, both arms clutching your knees to your chest. He was staring at a glowing white tendril which carefully clutched the card Brandish had, well, brandished at you. That. That was new. From the reflection you got a surprisingly decent look at it. Emanating from a point just behind your head, the glowing telekinetic tentacle seemed to be coming from within the white billows of your coiling cloud of vapor-hair. That...was surprisingly cool looking. Also, you had no idea how you'd just done that. Or why...
Again that detached, analytical part of your mind made an annotation of the new and interesting shade of red-purple your mortification made your skin turn, even as you shut off the sensations flooding your mind with FAR more knowledge of what everything within several yards felt like than you'd ever wanted to know. As you did, the light-tendril vanished, leaving the card to flutter down to sit on the pavement between you and the combination lawyer/life-saver. As you tried to calm yourself, you made a vow to yourself. You were never telling anyone about that particular power. The internet could never know. If the cape geeks on PHO found out that you had telekinesis which came with a non-optional side-effect of feeling up everything in a radius of yourself, especially as a girl with apparent tentacle hair, you'd be getting off lucky to have a name assigned to you as innoffensive and innocuous as The Phantom Pervert or Gropethulu.
And now both heroes were staring at you, with the caution of someone trying hard not to startle the person they were speaking with. Great. Just great. They probably thought you were crazy. Because that was going to help your cape reputation.
You were surprised when Armsmaster spoke, "Are you hurt, Miss Hebert?" Odd. He sounded worried about that. Brandish shot him a glare that reminded you of the one of her daughters you'd met before turning back to you.
"Is everything okay?"
You couldn't help it. You laughed at that. And you cried. And hugged yourself again. Dammit. So much for making a good first impression on the local heroes. Or a good second impression, for that matter. You grimace as you remember getting snot all over Glory Girl's shoulder. Letting out a long breath, you look back up, the world snapping into sudden clarity of focus with a quiet ringing tone, as though someone had run a finger across a crystal glass. When you spoke up you could once more hear the harmonics of truth and deception, the former a beautiful crystalline harmony, like a skilled player of the glass harp. You didn't know how you knew that's what that sounded like. Or how you knew that's what playing music from glasses filled with water was called. But you did.
"No," your own voice rang out with a crystalline harmony that infused your tones with a quiet wonder. "Everything hasn't been okay in a long time. My...my best friend betrayed me. Tormented me. Tortured me. And...and you work with her father. So...I...I can't help but wonder why you're giving me your card. Is," your stomach feels sick at the thought, "was that card a threat, ma'am? Because if it was I...I have no idea what I'd do. I don't want to have to...have to fight you, ma'am. In court or otherwise. But if you, Mister Barnes, or anyone else tries to hurt my father, I will. "
Armsmaster flinched and looked away at that, drawing both your and Brandish's attention to himself. "I...sorry." He managed to grit out. It rang with the truth. He really did feel sorry. "I owe you an apology, Miss Hebert." Again true.
"Why?" You aren't sure if that question is for Brandish, Armsmaster, or...or what. It's the question, though. The one you've been trying to answer ever since Mom had died. Who knows, maybe one of the heroes would be able to answer, if only in the context of how they were acting tonight.
As it turned out, they both tried to do so at once.
"It was my fault--,"Armsmaster intoned in a gallows rasp.
"Because you'll need a lawyer--," Brandish began.
Confused you hold up both hands to forestall them. "I...what? Wait. Armsmaster, you first. How the hell is what I went through at school your fault?" You cover your mouth with your hands realizing you'd just cursed at the head of the local Protectorate. Yep, you think. It's self-evident. I have the parahuman power to embarass myself. To death. That's exactly what my obituary will say, 'Taylor Hebert, age 15. Literally died of embarassment.' It'll probably even go on my tombstone. Taylor Anne Hebert. She was too awkward to live.
Before you can come up with any other ways to drown in your own mortification, Armsmaster grunts, shaking his head in the negative. "Not that. At least, that's not what i meant. I had no idea about it, but I should have. It is my fault for not stopping it. I meant about your father. His," he trailed off, his mouth compressing into a thin white line. He trailed off, then resumed again. "It was my fault your father almost died."
You are so shocked at the crystalline call of truth in his words, that you don't even realize you've standed until you're already looming over him, fists white-knuckled and trembling at your side. Again that analytical subroutine makes its notes. Hadn't realized I could loom. Will have to remember that. "Explain," you demand, voice hoarse with your emotions.
"It...If we had, no. Sorry, no, let me start that over." He pauses, as though listening to a voice in his head. You idly wonder if all capes had voices in their heads, and they just never told non-capes, so that they weren't locked up as crazy. "If I had handled the circumstances behind your abduction better, had managed to prevent it, taken personal charge of the search for you sooner, or done a better job of handling contact with your father, then he wouldn't have felt the need to get miserably drunk and try to punch my face in. If I'd realized how badly-off he was, Hell, even if I'd arrested him for hitting me, at least he wouldn't have been hurt. But no. I...," He shook his head. There was real shame in his voice. "I was so worried about the PR disaster the whole thing was shaping up to be, that I didn't even see him stagger his way into the street. I'd turned to get back inside and out of camera range. I didn't realize anything was wrong until I heard the car hit him. And...," he trailed off, sounding lost, "by that point there wasn't a damned thing I could do. I called the hospital. Hurt as he was it wasn't going to be enough. I still felt I had to to try. I couldn't stand the thought of being so fucking useless, but," he gave a lame shrug, "I was. I was completely and utterly useless in the situation. You should thank Mrs. Dallon's daughter. She's the only reason your father's alive. I couldn't do a God-damned thing. And," he shook his head. "I needed you to know that. My ego should have killed the man."
He laughed bitterly. "I shouldn't even be out here tonight. I disobeyed orders to be here. I didn't even think would be you, but I had to try something. And I had to explain. I had to apologize. I won't quit or retire. I can't. There's too much I can do to help people. Too much I can do to make up for the ass I've been. But if you want it, I'll apply for a transfer. I would rather not, but it's as much as I can offer. Your father's life was in my hands and I failed him. Given that, the best I can do is put my career in yours. It's what I risked his for. I won't ask you to be better than I was, since I don't deserve it. I'd rather stay. I can help you. The chances of your survival outside of a year as a hero go up substantially if you become a Ward." Brandish seems inclined to say something about that, but he holds up a hand to stop her, finishing with, "I can understand if you don't want to, though. Particularly if you hate me now. If my being here would stop you joining, then tell me, and I'll transfer. I'll have you transferred from Winslow, too. If you choose that option, the Director won't like you for it. Still, I owe you at least that much. I owe your father as much. Or I can stay and teach you. It's...it's your decision."
ooo
[Intimacy: Armsmaster - Disappointment (1/2)]
[Intimacy: Uncertainty's Shipper Tendencies - Mortification] Established!
1.9 Votes (PIck 1 per Category)
The Fate of Armsmaster
[ ] A Farewell to Arms(master)
--He didn't mean for it to happen, but he got Dad hurt. Good intentions don't make him less of an asshole. Tell him to find himself another city.
[ ] Forewarned is fore armed(mastered?)
--He fucked up, yes. But you know as fact that he didn't mean to. He truly will do anything in his capacity to atone for what he's done. You get the feeling you need all the help you could get.
[ ]Forget it
--This...this hurts. He was one of your personal heroes. And you hate him. So much. You wish you could forget everything he'd just told you.
[ ] Sleep on it
--You feel overwhelmed. You aren't in a good place, mentally. Maybe some time to think will help you make a better decision.
Decisions about the Dallons: Part I
[ ] Keep your card.
--Turn down Mrs. Dallon's offer of legal assistance. She knows who Mr. Barnes is.
[ ] I will take that under advisement
--Hang on to Brandish's business card, but don't commit to hiring her yet.
Decisions about the Dallons: Part II
[ ] The Less(bian) Said, the better.
--Right now, Glory Girl thinks you're gay. And into her. Maybe you should wait before trying to talk to her again.
[ ] Hugs for the Healbot
--Ask to properly thank Panacea. She saved Dad's life. You...Hell. You'd be an orphan if it wasn't for her.
Stunts are, as always, encouraged. Write-in suggestions are available as well.
Last edited:
Come on taylor, just disguise yourself with your shadow! So close...
Yeeaaahhh, Armsmaster may really want to clarify just how long Sophia's been a Ward, because things are going downhill rather quickly in our head...
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Something happened here...
Uh, no you don't. You take life's kicking and turn into a zombie or curl up into a ball. You don't really 'keep on ticking'. ;P
Needs coloring.
I am...quite unsure about Armsy going ahead and outing a Ward right here. Doubly so given they're in public.
HymnOfRagnarok
Let's Rock
...That's gotta be the most apologetic and remorseful Armsmaster I've seen in a long time. And it is totally believable. He tried to save face, and a man nearly died right in front of him for it. That's a cold wake up right there.
He kinda rambled and talked in fragments though. And was very candid about Sophia and other things. That was odd.
He kinda rambled and talked in fragments though. And was very candid about Sophia and other things. That was odd.
A bit of an interesting highlight on Armsmaster. He's actually fairly socially competent, when acting in his official role(he's a literal posterboy for the PRT), and generally dealing with crowds and groups. He breaks down at the small, interpersonal stuff however(clearly Alchemical exalted material), and is more likely to push things the wrong way.
Got to pretend there's something worth it at the end or things will only get worse faster.
Oh yes, working with the real and the unreal, they complement in interesting ways, especially if you mix them up. SWLIHN is very interested in thought control, but somewhat unimaginative by default on the specifics beyond Friendship Is Obey. Elloge is a great deal more loosely structured, but she can change them towards specific roles. Heroism is a delusion(one we've seen popped RIGHT here), but one you can sell even if you don't believe.
Got to pretend there's something worth it at the end or things will only get worse faster.
While the level of determinator Taylor actually IS, is quite exaggerated by fanon, I have to say Isidoros likely fits right in.Soooooooo... Isidoros?
As per the rules, I'm pretty sure we could....
Last edited:
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Would people prefer the last bit be left as was or in the amended edit? Been working on this since about 4am, so it might've gotten further away from me than expected...
Was: Sophia mentioned. Taylor ABSOLUTELY LIVID.
Edit: Sophia not mentioned. Taylor trying to cope with just the info that Dad got hurt because of Armsmaster.
Was: Sophia mentioned. Taylor ABSOLUTELY LIVID.
Edit: Sophia not mentioned. Taylor trying to cope with just the info that Dad got hurt because of Armsmaster.
Last edited:
Vaalintine
Wild Wondorous Wolfalope
Even with as much of a clusterfuck this is going to be, I really like this Armsmaster. He's an asshole, sure, but when he became aware of what happened he owned up to it wholeheartedly. Personally I think we should give the Wards a try. Also given that this is an Exalted crossover, I wouldn't be surprised if Armsmaster was a SWLIHN worshiper, because EFFECIENCY.
Technically he didn't say she was a cape outright, just that he could get her sent faaaar away. Plus, he does have a lawyer right next to him that one can assume is on his side.
Would be a pretty epic fuckup on Armsmaster's part to expose Sophia, I think the edit would work better for consistency. Particularly in this case, as exposing a Ward's civilian identity to a known and verified enemy of hers who is also DEFINITELY a parahuman of some sort, is going to see him under major censure.
For Sophia's case, I think what would most likely happen:
PRT - Work to transfer her away promptly. Facilitate with funding or whatever is necessary. If sent to a detention center, pull strings and arrange for a switcheroo to a facility rated for containing parahumans.
Carol - Work to sue her family for liability. A prison term is going to be difficult to make stick without also exposing Taylor as a parahuman publicly, but a civil case for a crapton of damages work, and a restraining order would not be difficult.
Last edited:
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I fixed that for you.
Twei
I have a face!
- Location
- the land where they write things
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Yeah, I like Armsmaster not exposing Sophia. At least not here. In-story it'd be a hell of a fuckup, not that he hasn't fucked up plenty today. OUt of story, I think it's better pacing if that revelation is saved for later.
This post brought to you by Being Taylor is Suffering.
This post brought to you by Being Taylor is Suffering.
Enemy, victim, same effect.
Exposing a Ward's identity to someone with a solid motivation to do her harm isn't something I can see him do.
Expanded my post a bit though..
- Location
- Germany
He seems pretty breakdowny here. I have no problem with him letting Sophias identety slip in that state.
And out of story it's good to get that now, when she has plenty other things to think about and is already emotionally exhausted. Not so much time and energy to stew over this might even keep the reaction smaller.
And out of story it's good to get that now, when she has plenty other things to think about and is already emotionally exhausted. Not so much time and energy to stew over this might even keep the reaction smaller.
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Update 1.9 is brought to you by Being Taylor is Suffering.
uh... could someone sum up what happened here? All I saw was a long, long, loooong freak out/denial/break down episode, and my eyes just glazed over after the fourth/fifth paragraph...
Thief of Words
Trans lesbian librarian
- Location
- Best book girl
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Sorry...
Taylor went to talk to Armsmaster and Brandish. Figured out she could use Mind Hand Manipulation. And that she felt everything in a certain range with invasive exteroception technique. Got given Mrs. Dallon's business card and an implicit offer to act as her lawyer. Found out that Dad got hit by a car because Armsmaster screwed up.
Taylor went to talk to Armsmaster and Brandish. Figured out she could use Mind Hand Manipulation. And that she felt everything in a certain range with invasive exteroception technique. Got given Mrs. Dallon's business card and an implicit offer to act as her lawyer. Found out that Dad got hit by a car because Armsmaster screwed up.
Last edited:
Honestly? I think this is good for Armsy. There is no better cure for an overinflated ego than massive failure on multiple levels. His failure has hurt both Taylor and Danny however, so I can't see Taylor working easily with him no matter how remorseful he is. I don't think the Wards would be an in-character choice at this point, simply because at least some of Taylor's disappointment and rage (when she finds out about Sophia) is likely to spill over to the PRT/Protectorate as a whole. Few things hurt more than when someone you look up to fails you, after all.