Gengarenjoyer23 - Gengar Guy

gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Dead Eye (A Supernatural Fantasy)

I published the first chapter of my Original Story:

Dead Eye

The world exists under the Heavenly Eye, its light protecting humanity from the worst of the Dark Depths and the monsters that writhe to the surface with every nightly blink. To combat this threat, a select few humans have been granted blessings in the forms of Glimmers and Glares, their eyes empowered by the Heavenly force itself. A global empire unites mankind against the dark forces of the Gorgon beasts, but not all is well under the command of the Empress. Some distant colonies strain against her all-seeing hold, while others are subsumed by the Gorgons for their own diabolical means. Act 1: Persa, Sabra, and Milian are sent to the colony of Ena as Honored Masked, investigating disturbing rumors of disloyalty to the empire and thus, the Empress. And while the colony has its share of dark secrets and twists, it is the relationship between the untested Persa and steel-willed Sabra that threatens to reveal a secret that could unravel everything.

SpaceBattles

Dead Eye (Supernatural Fantasy)

The world exists under the Heavenly Eye, its light protecting humanity from the worst of the Dark Depths and the monsters that writhe to the

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

My dad is also a self proclaimed Marxist who is also a landlord. Good ol Marxymoo must be rolling in his grave

One of my exes is a self proclaimed marxist who would constantly interrupt sex to explain theory to me. She is currently subletting her apartment at roughly 2.5x the legal rate. Her sub-tenant reached out to me to help navigate the local tenant union to take legal action against her. Anyway. Real life Marxist landlord. She thinks it’s counterrevolutionary that I’m a dom. Sorry for ask box confessional

I...

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

DO NOT SUPPORT SALVATION ARMY

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

bonesaw...mayhaps

She’s just a little silly

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Sexually transmitted ideology sounds like an SCP

im about to create the worlds first sexually-transmitted ideology

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

I mean that second one is just how power scaling tends to go when you include characters who have been around for decades. Like you think Batman would stand no chance only for someone to go "Well actually batman beat ______ ounce and if he had ______ amount of prep time-"

Two All-time Wildbow word-of-god Ws are "Saitama beats the Endbringers because that's how he functions narratively" and "The Justice League beat the Endbringers because there's almost certainly some insane highball showing from those jerks that's still continuity that can be used to demonstrate that they'd trivialize them somehow".

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

a post on here could be like “make sure you litter guys! the earth is actually adapting to digesting different kinds of materials if we stop littering we’re hurting it” and a good handful of you would reblog with “yiikes :0 didnt know this. followers make sure to throw your trash on the ground

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Hello, PHO user. Before you is a PHO post asking you to name a female cape. You have unlimited time to tag a female cape, NOT a male one.

Begin.

Tags :

regent

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

parrot pet play and she makes me touch different objects and name them in exchange for peanuts and other such treats

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

You've heard of Gabriel Iglesias' Racist gift basket, now get ready for the abelesist gift basket (autism edition)

Saw a thread on Twitter of "gifts to give a person with ADHD and autism" that was full of stereotypical and quite frankly patronizing items, so here's a list of I (autistic individual) want instead as a gift

Money

Fourteen billion dollars

Free coupon to kill somebody with my teeth

Suitcase full of money

Cool looking rock

Scratching post for me to sink my claws into

An albino elephant

The head of Jeff Bezos mounted on my wall

Uncooked rice

A cup full of blood

100k in cash

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Arc 11

Another month another new episode! This month we're talking about ontologically evil Drugs and how fucking cool Mark Dallon is. Join us as we discuss The Big Taylor, The Legend of the 10 Elemental Masters, and Jeff Loeb.

sites.libsyn.com

Covered in Worms: A Parahumans Podcast: Episode 6: Arc 11

Bad news folks! The Merchants are running rampant with their EVIL drugs and the Slaughterhouse 9 have come to town. How will our chill and n

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

Extermination 8.3

Oh fucking boy

As tough or invincible as a given cape might be, most were still hemmed in by the restrictions and boundaries of physics. Getting hit by something that weighed nearly nine tons sent men, women, boys and girls in costume flying, if it didn’t kill them outright.

Leviathan’s echo added surprising quantities of water to the battlefield. Every step and movement he made, he filled the space he’d just left with water. How much water did it take to displace something as big as he was? However much it was, he created something like three times that amount when he took a single step forward, when you accounted for the space his body moved through. A hard amount to eyeball, because it had the same momentum his movements had, and some of it crossed great distances as he lunged and clawed his way through the front line of capes.

Sham down, CD-5. Acoustic deceased, CD-5. Harsh Mistress down, CD-5. Resolute deceased, CD-5. Woebegone down, CD-5…

This isn't a really revelatory passage, it's just like. Even more reinforcement that Leviathan is a fucking beast. More dead, more downed.

I had to help, somehow.

I pressed both buttons on the armband and spoke into it, “Direct me to the wounded I can help. I do not have mobility powers. I am not very strong. I do have basic first aid training.”

There was a pause, then a female voice, synthesized, just sharp enough to be heard over the noise of lasers, guns and rain, “Acknowledged.”

The response both relieved and terrified me. I’d halfway expected that to fail.

My armband beeped and flashed, and I saw a red dot on the map, along with an arrow at the edge of the square screen. As I moved my arm, the arrow adjusted to keep pointing the same way. It was directing me to near where Leviathan was.

Lashing out with tail and claws, he was advancing steadily through the ranks of defenders. The occasional strike from a strong hero or one of the ranged combatants slowed him, made him stumble, if it hit in the right spot or pushed him off balance.

I hesitated to get closer. I hated myself for doing it. I was here for a reason, to do something.

Taylor the fact that you even bothered to show up is above and beyond what should ever be asked of you, you are fifteen for fuck's sake, staking your life against the defeat of a hateful animate Splash Mountain is not your fucking purview! You should be playing Minecraft or something!

“What can I do?” I asked the bird-costume.

“Leg,” he said, voice strained, “Help me stand.”

His left leg, I realized, was smashed into pulp from the knee down. I crouched, helped him get his arm over my shoulders, and used my legs to heave both of us into a standing position. The bird-costume was below average in weight for a teenage guy, but it wasn’t exactly easy. He was wearing armor.

I might not have been able to get both of us up to a standing position like that if it weren’t for my weeks of running.

He leaned on me heavily with each step forward, and we retreated from the front lines. Someone with the ability to fly landed not far from me to pick up the man with the gaping wound across his torso, flew off with him. Two seconds later, a teleporter blinked into existence near us, touching two fallen capes, and disappeared with them and a bathtub’s worth of water.

I wanted to apologize for not having a better power to help this person, but the breath would have been wasted. It was hard work to help him along, to slog through the water.

"Sorry I wasn't traumatized in a way that lets me save your life" Hello??

I can't imagine Taylor gets to feel like a part of most communities, honestly. Also I'm not sure that the cape community is any kind of monolith, so whether she "fits in" with them all is kind of moot.

A flier with fringes of ribbons down the sides of her arms, legs and body landed next to me, “Give him to me.”

We transferred the bird-boy to her grip, and they were gone in an instant. My armband flashed and pointed me toward the next target.

Byyyye, Iron Falcon.

I hurried to the next target on my armband. It was a woman witih a white costume, white hair and what was probably skull paint on her face. It was hard to tell, and not just because of the rain smudging the make-up. Nearly half her face was torn off. Glanced by one of Leviathan’s claws, maybe, or caught by the lash of water from his tail.

“Hey,” I shook her gently by the shoulders, “You awake? You alert?”

Maybe a stupid question. I didn’t even know if she could talk with her face like that.

A small wave sloshed against us, she sputtered and turned her head, didn’t respond. That was a ‘no’ to at least one of my questions. I suspected her condition was a combination of shock and blood loss as much as anything else.

Too heavy for me to lift, and I didn’t have first aid supplies. Fuck, I could have kicked myself for that. Anything I did have – epipens, smelling salts – were probably spoiled by the water and the septic conditions. Not that they would have helped.

I looked up, looked around. Spotted what I needed. Someone was manifesting green fireballs in his hands, lobbing them at Leviathan, where they exploded violently.

I rose, hurried to him, keeping low so I didn’t walk face first into anyone’s laser blasts or gunfire. “Your fire, is it radioactive? Is it anything special, extra dangerous?”

He gave me a look, lobbed another fireball, “It’s fire, it combusts if I concentrate it.”

“Okay. Great. I need your help.”

He nodded.

That's such a funny thing to ask somebody, honestly.

I showed him the woman. “Blood loss is a problem. She needs the wound cauterized.”

His eyes widened, “I can’t do that! Her face-”

“-Is half scraped off. She’s not going to care about a burn. There’s nothing close to a clean bandage anywhere here, and she’s going to die if we don’t stop the blood loss.”

Looking a little sick, he nodded, wreathed his hand in flame and then pressed it against the woman’s face. She pulled away, made a gurgling noise. I gripped her head and shoulder to keep her in position.

“Come,” I said, after he pulled his hand away, “Help me move her.”

Greenfire – I wasn’t sure on his name, and it didn’t seem the time to ask – hooked one arm under her armpit, I used both hands under the other one, and we hauled her off to one side, into an alley, propped her up sitting.

“I’ll stay here,” Greenfire said, “Keep an eye on her. You go.”

I nodded, pressed both buttons on the armband and spoke, “Next!”

And then this is a crazy hardcore thing to ask somebody. This arc does a lot to establish that Skitter is just straight up on another level when it comes to comfort on the battlefield compared to even veteran capes, girl will nearly get pulped by Neptune's fucking wrath and then wonder why other people died while she's still conscious

It was a contingent of lesser heroes that joined the fray, now. It was as though the tougher fighters were staggering their attacks, to ensure that just the right amount of force was being exerted to keep Leviathan on his heels, taking the maximum amount of damage while being prevented from taking out too many capes at once. These three were clearly members of the same team, flying in formations, moving in sync. Two of them had super strength, and were gripping at the damaged areas of Leviathan’s flesh, tearing, pulling away as he lashed out in response, while the third had a massive battleaxe with what looked like a chainsaw setup on each blade, opening more wounds. The damage was superficial, only taking off slices of Leviathan’s hide, but surely stripping away his hard exterior would help in the long run?

The armband directed me to someone that was already getting assistance. An obese cape in armor, getting CPR from a man with a princess-bride style mask over the upper half of his head, a goatee, a chainmail lined mantle and a shotgun three times the normal size. He didn’t know what he was doing – the fat man’s chin was almost touching his collarbone.

When I moved to take over, Shotgun Westley left without a word, wiping his mouth and unslinging his gun as he ran back to the fray. I was irritated.

Oh, Taylor. I'm so sorry, he only gets worse the more layers you get into him.

Also. Okay so Gregor the Snail felt like a pretty sympathetic perspective on how fatphobia stings people, but the life and death of Chubster in the realm of this story... kinda sucks. Like oh no, he's too heavy for Skitter to save him, have to leave him to drown I guess. I'm not saying it's an impossible circumstance, it just feels crass to have it in.

The ranged attack continued. Miss Militia had a bazooka as long as she was tall, and was firing a series of warheads into Leviathan. She wasn’t reloading, either. Between shots, the weapon crackled with energy, fresh ammunition loaded into the chamber by her power. One projectile fired off each second.

There was the girl with the crossbow, who had been with Shadow Stalker. She had a teammate next to her, handing her the needle-like bolts from a quiver, was loading them into the large crossbow and firing them as fast as she was able. More than any other attack, the bolts were stabbing deep into Leviathan.

The attacks were actually having an effect. He was on the defensive, now, and he was hurting.

We’re winning, I thought.

A flash to my left caught my eye.

It was my armband. The screen was ringed by a square of yellow, a yellow triangle with a black exclamation mark pointing in Leviathan’s general direction.

People were shouting. Screaming, Narwhal was moving forcefields up in between us and Leviathan, other forcefields were going up.

“To me!” someone near me shouted. I turned to look, saw Shielder from New Wave.

Tidal Wave.

Hey Flechette, keep up the good work girl

The thing I keep coming back to with the Endbringers is that. Okay. These things have been causing horrific damage, mass death, and world-changing devastation for decades, and they've never been killed, and only one cape has ever meaningfully made the things fuck off in the history of ever. They are considered to be the most likely cause of extinction for humanity. Every time it seems like they're winning, even in the short-term, it's just the setup for another knockdown. It's giving them hope just so the despair hits deeper. What are the odds that's on purpose? What are the odds that everything the Endbringers suffer except Scion is just play-acting for them? Selling the capes' moves like it's a wrestling match, even as they don't feel a goddamn thing.

What if it's all just a sick game to an alien god?

Shielder waited until the last second to erect his cerulean bubble around himself. I caught a glimpse of one cape, a step too slow, getting trapped on the outside, a half second before the wave hit. Crushed against the exterior of the solid-light forcefield by the onrushing waters.

I’d been in an earthquake before. A three on the Richter scale, brief. I’d been at home, and a check of the house afterward only found a few books knocked off the shelf, a mirror fallen from the wall in the front hall. This was a hundred times more intense, the water rolling over us, against the nearby buildings, making the ground shudder.

For one brief moment, we were submerged, currents running past Shielder’s bubble. water in front of us, to either side, behind and above. Outside the translucent bubble, I saw a massive dark shape zip past us, saw Shielder fall to his knees, as though the force of the water against the bubble in Leviathan’s wake was nearly more than he could bear.

Heavy casualties, please wait, a chorus of identical voices announced, coming from the armbands of those ten or twelve of us in the bubble. Telling us that we’d just taken losses so heavy that the Dragon’s computer system couldn’t or wouldn’t list them all.

This is so cool and so, so fucking dire.

Leviathan leaped from the roof of a nearby building, landing in the midst of one group that was still reeling from the wave, started tearing through them.

The armbands remained ominously silent, even as I watched the casualties.

God that's dark

Flying capes left the roof of the building, each carrying someone. They were still leaving as Leviathan lunged through the side of the building and the forcefields that had been reinforcing the walls. He tried to retreat, was stalled by more forcefields. I saw a figure on the far side. Bastion. The hero who had been in the news over his racist tirade.

Bastion bellowed, “Do it!”

Leviathan lunged, crashed through one barrier, making it shatter like glass, only for another to appear immediately after. He turned to head our way, was stopped by another.

“Fucking do it!” Bastion called out, barely audible.

The building above him bent and the midsection, unable to support the upper floors, crumbled. The upper half of the building crashed down atop Leviathan and Bastion.

Vista turned, wrapping her arms around the Ward next to her, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Move forward!” Armsmaster called out, “He’s going to want to escape to recover! We can not let him!”

Sacrifice play. Some desperate attempt to redeem himself in the public view maybe? A genuine belief that he can make this stick? I dunno. It doesn't matter, unfortunately.

Leviathan had more than halved our ranks with the wave. I could see people face down in the water. Others were crumped up, their bodies contorted, broken, still.

And the damage to the city was just as bad, in a different way. I stared at the wreckage, the block and a half of shattered buildings, and saw a looming mess of arches and massive iron beams and girders, unable to comprehend what it was.

It dawned on me. The PHQ. The headquarters of our local superteam, tourist attraction, torn from whatever fixtures had rooted it in place, smashed to ruins against our coastline.

The Armband spoke. Losses are as follows: Debaser, Ascendant, Gallant, Zigzag, Prince of Blades, Vitiator, Humble, Halo, Whirlygig, Night, Crusader, Uglymug, Victor, Furrow, Barker, Elegance, Quark, Pelter, Snowflake, Ballistic, Mama Bear, Mister Eminent, Flashbang, Biter…

The names kept coming. I almost wanted to cover my ears, but not knowing for sure was worse.

…Cloister, Narwhal, Vixen, The Dart, Geomancer, Oaf, Tattletale…

The recitation continued, but I was numb to them. Tattletale? I started, looked around, as if I could find her. Where had she been?

No, what I suddenly really wanted to know was what the armband meant by losses. Were all those people dead? Was Tattletale dead? Why wasn’t the armband directing me to help someone? Was there no point, or were our numbers so reduced we couldn’t afford to?

What a way to sell the fucking outrageous devastation that this monster unleashes in the span of. What, an hour? Less?

Also hey what good is all the missiles and lasers and forcefields if Leviathan is just gonna pick the whole PHQ up and smash it onto the shoreline

So many goddamn downed, it's crazy. And y'know, knowing the rest of the arc we know Tattletale's still standing but of course Skitter is fucked up over losing Tattletale, that's the last person she's got who's willing to extend a hand towards her.

I couldn’t afford to dwell on what might have happened to Tattletale. I wiped beads of water from the lenses of my mask with my gloved hands, pushed my hair out of my face, and made a note of my bugs. There were scant few in the way of bugs that could navigate in this storm. Myrddin had banished the water from the wave, somehow, but the downpour was making the streets flood fast enough that I didn’t trust anything to crawl. No, my power was dead useless, here.

Most powers are dead useless here let's be real

Others had picked themselves up, were moving into the side streets and alleys to follow, intent on cutting him off. I looked around, glancing over at the injured and wounded, knowing Tattletale was among them.

Eidolon was staying behind, raising his hands, and green sparks began rising from the ground, clustering around Eidolon and the fallen, obscuring them.

A second later, he and half of the bodies that had been scattered around the battlefield disappeared, the sparks blooming outward in twenty small firework explosions.

I took that as my cue to join everyone else in the pursuit. Eidolon could help the wounded. I couldn’t, really.

Hey, good job Eidolon

“Care!” Miss Militia cried out, “Fire in the hole!”

She fired a shot from her grenade launcher, grabbed another grenade with a blinking LED from her vest and loaded it into her gun. Why? She’d shown with the bazooka that she didn’t need to load ammunition, hadn’t she?

Then I realized why. It wasn’t the kind of ammunition you found in normal guns. The first shot exploded into a mess of golden sticky ribbon, familiar, though it somehow escaped my memory where I’d seen it. The second exploded in midair, near Leviathan’s shoulder, leaving the tips of the scales and one gaping wound glinting like crystal. As Leviathan moved to recoil, the edges of the crystal separated from his flesh and seeped with that dark ichor.

The third was a modified explosive I recognized. It bounced off the ground between Leviathan’s foot and the hand he had planted on the ground, landed a ways behind and to the side of him, and exploded much like any other grenade might. What I recognized was the shimmer in the air around it, a near perfect sphere encompassing the surrounding area, catching Leviathan’s leg, the end of his tail, part of his waist and stomach.

The explosion made Leviathan rear back, and the water that followed in his wake moved slower in that bubble, slowed down with each passing second.

Fucking brave of y'all to be shooting Bakuda bombs anywhere in the same ZIP code as someone you care about, but also god it would be so cool if this had actually worked. Just fucking lock Leviathan down in time out for a hundred years or so, buy that much time? Shame it fails.

Leviathan himself wasn’t as affected, and he had one foot and an upper body outside of the bubble to help him pull himself free. He raised his leg free of the golden string goop and up out of the sphere, lashed his tail toward the crowd I was at the back of, catching three people, entwining the tip around their arms, legs and necks. He flicked them into the center of the time distortion bubble, where they got caught, unable to make their exit fast enough to avoid being frozen in time.

Jotun deceased, CD-6. Dauntless deceased, CD-6. Alabaster deceased, CD-6.

Well. I'm not gonna miss the fucking Nazis, but rip in peace Dauntless, we hardly knew ye.

Legend fired a barrage of lasers at Leviathan, but the Endbringer was quick to hop to one side, landing on the roof’s edge. He made a sudden, standing leap a good eighty or a hundred feet into the air, tail extending to reach for the airborne heroes.

The whiplike tail struck Legend, and there was a firework display of light and sparks, Legend tumbling out of the sky, head over heels. In the same movement, the tail reached for Laserdream and Shielder.

Legend down, CD-6, The armbands announced, just in time to coincide with Legend hitting the ground.

Triumvirate member tagged out. Alexandria was already down for the count, wasn't she? Or she at least stopped showing up at some point, so now it's just Eidolon repping the Big Three

although I guess if you asked Eidolon he'd call it "just Big Me"

Leviathan wrapped his tail around the spherical forcefield that surrounded the siblings, bringing it and the pair down toward the roof as he fell. When they were halfway down, the constriction of the tail broke through the forcefield, snaked around Shielder’s body and Laserdream’s arm.

The Endbringer landed on the roof with a shuddering impact and a showering of detritus, crashing through the roof. He bounded up to the edge of the roof, lunged off it.

I could see it like it was slow motion. Laserdream’s hand glowed and she fired, using the concussive force of her laser to get her trapped hand free, flew up and back out of the way as Leviathan continued to fall.

Shielder, still in Leviathan’s grip, had his upper body brought down against the ragged edge of the building in passing.

Shielder deceased, CD-6

Laserdream’s ragged scream was like something distant, something I was barely aware of, because Leviathan was landing back in the area where the two alleys met. He leaped in Sundancer’s direction, caught the ground with the claws of his hands and feet to halt his momentum. His echo surged forward, some striking the superheated orb, where it blossomed into massive clouds of steam. The rest went low, catching Sundancer below the waist, sweeping her legs out from under her in one violent rush. She flipped forward, her upper body colliding with the ground. The miniature sun winked out of existence.

Sundancer down, CD-6.

First dead kid out of the lot, I think, if we don't count Falcon dying off the battlefield. Sorry, Shielder. I think Leviathan knew you were strong enough to keep being a problem. Gotta be fucking awful for Laserdream though, watching your brother die violently in front of you is. I actually can't imagine, thank fuck.

And then Sundancer down but not out. Honestly if anyone was gonna have decent odds of doing damage I'd have given it to The Fucking Sun, but that doesn't do much for defense does it.

Turning on the spot, Leviathan moved his claw, creating a wave with all of the water he’d generated since entering the alley, driving it into one of the two gathered groups. As those capes stumbled and fell back, Leviathan leaped over the time distortion bubble, landing at the front of the other group. The group with some of the local wards, Velocity, some of Empire Eighty-Eight, and out-of-town capes I couldn’t name.

The group I was at the rear of.

Someone stepped up to grab him mid-lunge – some woman I didn’t recognize, who Othala was touching. She was granting this woman some form of invincibility that let her take a hit and not get knocked away by Leviathan.

Invincible though she might be, she couldn’t do anything to stop the afterimage from crashing against and around her, through our assembled ranks.

I was shoved back – not by the water itself, but the tide of bodies that were struck, crushed and thrown by the afterimage. As I was pushed backward, hard, I was spun by an impact at my shoulder. My arm slammed against a windowsill, and it exploded with a sharp, jarring pain. I landed on my back, saw someone else get sent head over heels over the crowd, colliding against the wall with an audible cracking sound, landing limp as a rag doll, a matter of feet from me. He had a trumpet and a flag on his chest.

Escutcheon deceased, CD-6. Herald deceased, CD-6.

Fucking outrageously brutal, god.

Leviathan didn’t make noise. I kept expecting a roar, or hiss, or something, but Leviathan was dead silent. I somehow imagined a victorious howl as he broke through the barrier, crouched, and lunged into the crowd.

Man. I didn't even think about the fact that this thing is silent the entire time. No Godzilla roars or shit the entire time, nothing except for the rush of water.

He stopped, and I thought he was using his afterimage, halting so it could rush forward, but even the watery echo stopped a second after it appeared, only the very edges of it continuing forward to crash violently against the sides of the alley.

For several long heartbeats, it was nearly quiet, but for the sound of rain, people’s noises of pain, mine included, and the sound of one of Kaiser’s iron columns ripping free of the wall and falling atop a pile of blades.

It took me a second to realize what had happened. Leviathan hung frozen mid-pounce, and his emerging afterimage similarly stood there, frozen in time. In the midst of the afterimage was Clockblocker, half-immersed in water.

“Someone get him out of there! He’s going to suffocate!” I shouted, my voice made that much more edgier and strained by the pain I was in. My voice, though, coincided with no less than five other cries, all rising to be heard over everyone else. Trap Leviathan, contain him, use more of those grenades to get him before he got free. Someone was even shooting arcs of lighting at Leviathan’s frozen form. Too many commands from too many people who hadn’t fought with or against Clockblocker, who didn’t know how his power worked, who had conflicting ideas on what we had to do.

This chaos would fuck us over, keep us from accomplishing anything before Leviathan got free. We needed order, and most of the people who could have given it to us were out of action or nowhere nearby.

The armbands. Armsmaster had said it prioritized orders based on need.

Clockblocker keeps coming in clutch to save the day against citywide threats... Someone please for the love of god stop putting these children in the line of fire.

Also interesting that Taylor might be the only one here whose first response is to get him out of the water, for all that he's been her enemy.

My left arm hung by my side, and I couldn’t even bring myself to raise it. Just gravity and the weight of my hand pulling down on it was excruciating. The idea of pressing the buttons was too much.

I reached for the person next to me, grabbed her wrist. Some woman with a crescent moon on a blue costume. She gave me a startled look with a lost, shellshocked expression. When I first pressed against the communications button, she moved her arm, as if she thought I was guiding her movements.

“Stay still!” I snarled at her. When I pressed again, depressing the two buttons with my pinky finger and thumb, she held her arm firm.

I shouted into the armband, “Clockblocker down, CD-6! Need a teleporter to get him free, stat!”

Clever.

Trickster appeared in the place of the blue moon Woman, tipped his hat at me.

“Clockblocker, in there,” I pointed with my good hand.

Trickster frowned, looked around.

“I apologize for desecrating your body, brave hero,” he spoke, looking down at where the cape with the trumpet icon on his chest had flopped, dead. “You do good work even in death.”

Was he mentally cracked? Was he serious or was he playing around? I suspected the latter, but kidding around and wasting time in a situation like this?

In a second, the cape was replaced by an unconscious Clockblocker. The pane of his helmet was cracked and leaking a trail of blood. I bent down to examine him, was pushed out of the way by someone else. Some woman with a costume that outlined her bones, like a really good version of the skeleton costumes you saw on Halloween. She began using her fingers to check Clockblocker’s neck, and I couldn’t help but suspect she was a doctor.

Taylor can be really harshly judgmental at times but I'm gonna be real I'm with her on this one, Trickster what the actual fuck is your problem. Like good job I guess but what the hell.

“Listen!” the voice that cut through the shouts and the frantic chatter was authoritative, strong.

Armsmaster. He had Myrddin, Eidolon and Chevalier just behind him. People turned to listen, myself included.

“He’s torn through our front line, he’s taken down some of our best, and he’s deliberately targeted and eliminated most of the capes who were in Bastion’s group. We have precious few left who can take a hit from this creature and survive it, and we’re running low on those who can wall off another tidal wave or block his path.

“We’re not going to be able to go on with Plan A.” The words hung in the air.

Y'know, the fucked up thing is that Armsmaster actually isn't wrong here, and his plan could've worked if he was, uhh. Genuine about it.

“Eidolon is going to leave, do what he can to minimize the damage from the waves and ensure the rest of the city doesn’t get leveled while we’re fighting here. The rest of us are going to slow Leviathan down best we can, take any opportunities we can to hurt the motherfucker. In just a second, we’re going to organize you guys, put the toughest and strongest closest to this bastard, space out the people who can hurt him, get the weakest ones positioned to pass on word if they see him slip past us.

“This is our plan B. We stall, from here on out we prioritize survival over putting this abomination down, and we fucking pray that Scion notices there’s an Endbringer around and shows up before this city and everyone in it is a memory.”

Does everybody's ability to give a speech go down the fucking toilet when an Endbringer is within half a mile of them? Is that what it is?

Current Thoughts

Wildbow really fucking knows how to put a battle together. Our POV character isn't actually fighting through 95% of this entire arc (and maybe shouldn't have been fighting in that 5% but we'll get there) but you feel just totally surrounded by the death and devastation that's raining down on all sides.

Unfortunately, I think it's about time for Armsmaster's big reveal on how to lose an arm and a shitload of credibility in record timing.

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gengarenjoyer23

3 months ago

does ward have an unofficial tagline? like worm's "the road to hell is paved with good intentions"?

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

Eidolon/Hero: peak obviously.

eidolon/contessa: this is like putting a bunch of knives in a bag and shaking it really hard.

eidolon/custodian: oughthghhh….

eidolon/alexandria: oh both of you are not normal

eidolon/legend: toxic yaoi but not like that

eidolon/doctor mother: I actually don’t think this is mommy kink. The enlightened mind understands that this is a doctor patient dynamic which is actually more fucked up for them

eidolon/number man: degradation kink

eidolon/exalt: boss-employee one sided hatesex

Eidolon/dispatch: I actually think they could be cute

eidolon/vikare: doomed yaoi

eidolon/string theory: murder is a sex thing

Eidolon/richter: this much concentrated guyfailure could kill a man

eidolon/eden: terrible. I want 500 fics.

eidolon/scion: extremely funny actually.

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

Taylor realised she didn't have enough capscian for her next mission

So she went to get more from The Creature

r/TwoSentenceHorror stories but with Parahuman characters

Tags :

wildbow parahumans wormblr worm worm web serial

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

whats the difference between outlaws and inlaws

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

willy wonka chocolate tinker 12

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

Gestation Basically

Bonus: First worm meme I sent to my friend who recommended it to me

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

Shimo on my Zilla till I Kong

Tags :

shitpost monsterverse godzilla King Kong Shimo godzilla x kong: the new empire kaiju

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

métis hatsune miku !!!

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

Questions Time!

We're recording soon again and we want your questions! We're gonna be talking Arc 11 so send in all your questions about the Merchants Party and the SH9 interlude chapters! Make sure to mark them [show] so I know you want em on the show! I look forward to what y'all got for us!

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gengarenjoyer23

4 months ago

He could be a monster from The Magnus Archives, even

Fun thing about Mannequin is that of course, objectively, to the extent you can objectively categorize anything, he's a supervillain. He's a bad guy in a superhero novel. He fights guys in tights. He's on his second code name. But that's not really a lock that you'd pick that up if you just saw a piece of fanart of him in passing, is it? Dude could be a slasher (I mean he is, but he could only be a slasher, defined by the absence of the last-second arrival of a guy in tights.) Dude could be an enemy from a soulslike. Could be a fan-favorite NPC from a high-concept actual-play podcast, playing Nobilis or something. Could be the latest Lethal Company enemy, could be an SCP, could be a college sophomore's vent art about feeling commodified under late stage capitalism, could just be a mannequin. Faceless plastic doll guy is a versatile aesthetic

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