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 theme song quote:Name: Hartonn of the House Suabos, Peerless Conqueror and Rightful Crown Prince of Suabos! Where do you come from, and why are you here? Earthling! Bow before Hartonn of the House Suabos, Peerless Conqueror and Rightful Crown Prince of Suabos! I have come here to subjugate your world and rule it as I see fit! How does your Contagion influence those around you? Why, can you not tell yourself? Surely you are already feeling the need to bow before your true lord? I have been told that my very presence makes peons of all kinds dream of of the enlightened rule that can only be brought by my hand! Who, outside your peers, also comes from the same homeland? Feh, Suas does not deserve even the briefest moment of my time. My older cousin comes to a planet like this and does not even attempt to take over! I could even understand if she was wrongheaded enough to live as a superhero. The strong serving the weak is the height of folly, but at least a superhero recognizes that they are strong. But, no. She works... as an investment banker. The indignity of it! Working to earn the wealth that is ours by right! Oh, if her parents ever found out... the shame might just drive them to an early grave. It would not. Suas is a fantastically, ridiculously wealthy member of the Global Authority, and her parents are quite pleased with her success. Why do you still linger here on Earth? I am the second twin, born mere moments after my "elder" sister. By that sheer chance, I, the truly gifted of the two of us, would have been shunted aside, forced to perform in the pantomime of court life, without ever tasting the power that is hidden by such trappings. There came a day where I could stand it no longer, and when I left, I announced to my family that I would show that it is I, Hartonn, who deserve the crown! Despite the very faint effort I have put into subjugating this planet, it eludes my grasp! I simply cannot return to Suabos with my head bowed in shame, so returning until I have conquered the planet (or at least a moderately sized nation) is simply out of the question. What Hartonn won't tell people (or at least tell them outright) is that his sister is quite possibly the biggest reasons that Suabos has not been brought under the sway of the Modern Marvels, the Infinite Empire, or even M.A.D.D. Her skillful diplomacy and keen insight has seen Suabos play all three sides against each other and virtually secure Suabos' independence. Making her task easier is that, Suabos... just isn't that important. It does not have any particular resources that would inspire invasions. Galactically speaking, it is located in the middle of nowhere. So, the only reason to conquer (or in the Modern Marvels' case, institute regime change to bring democracy to the people of Suabos) would be if you were convinced one of the other parties was about to do so. Why do you suffer the others? What would a ruler be without various advisers and other servants! Oh, they will say this is a gathering of equals, that we're all working together for our common ends. And it is true, to a point. I do go along with their plans every now and then, as a true ruler should always make sure their most trusted associates are valued. And sometimes, very rarely, they come up with an idea that even I recognize is quite inspired! So, you could say that I feel they are the closest thing to a peer that I have on this backwater. Please provide me a villainous monologue. It can at whatever length you feel appropriate, but finding your most diabolical voice will be Very Important in this game. You have come so far, but you are too late! Even as we speak, my minions are putting the final steps of the plan into motion! Soon, the Metro Bay museum will be plundered and everything, including the personal effects of this Earth king you call Tutankhamen, will be mine! All mine! But, it would be such a shame for you to leave empty handed. Very well! I shall give you the honor of a thrashing you with my own two hands. Please do try to keep up. It has been so long since I have stooped to personally delivering beatings, and I would hate for it to be over too quickly! Please insult me with your most villainous, overblown invective. I'm serious. Do it in-character. How would your character insult me, from what you know of me. This world is such a wonder! Only on this backwards world someone who is a peon by this world's low, low standards even think to give orders to their betters. But, let it not be said that I am not a benevolent ruler. I shall grant your proud and vain petition by deigning to give you a mere moment of my time. *ahem* You mewling dog! Your pathetic manner sickens me. It is so offensive to me that I should smite you down, right where you stand! Indeed, I am sure that I would be making the world a better place! ...But, no, while the world might be better off, it is far better for me that you live to spread word of my magnificence and generosity. Very well. It shall be so. But do not count on such mercy again. Instead, remember this day, for it was the day that you met your future lord and master! Please describe a comic book cover featuring your character and a misleading narrative. See any Superdickery cover for what I mean. This is for yourself as much as me, to see what kind of tone of humor you want to approach this with. The cover has a picture of a disgruntled Hartonn in full costume working the register in a knock off McDonalds, saying "How may Hartonn of t... how may I take your order?" Above it, in bold letters, "Hartonn... reduced to working fast food? The answer will shock you!" Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 05:51 on May 13, 2016 |
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May 9, 2016 14:14
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| # ¿ Apr 25, 2024 05:19 |
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YUMADD neglected to send me an invitation, but that was clearly a paperwork error. The mindless peons that take care of that sort of thing must have assumed it had already been taken care of by someone higher up than them. The fact that they were expecting me is proof enough that I was correct. I'll allow the invitation mistake to pass unmentioned for now, but it does reflect poorly on their organizational skills. If this is the instrument I am to use to rule the world, I'll have to whip it into shape first. I discard the stolen invitation with the directions to this meeting. I didn't catch the name of the wannabe villain that I jumped for it, but the invitation said he was Rockslide. Which, given that his costume seemed to be gravel glued to a spandex jumpsuit, makes sense. But, if there standards were so low that they were recruiting dregs like him, maybe I should rethink my membership. quote:"Who are you?" quote:"What can the Association do for you?" quote:"What can you do for the Association?" quote:Counter Culture: "Yes, I am "from space," as you so eloquently put it." Repeating myself, I say, “Specifically, the rightful crown prince of Suabos." I brush off the attempt at sympathy by saying, "No, I plan on being back sooner rather than later, so homesickness would be a bit premature. Also, this world is quite interesting. I'm more than content to stay here for the time being. But... it does lack the rolling purple hills of sila grass, the inverted, floating mountains, and especially the molten glass falls of Suabos. So, to be frank, while the rest of the world is interesting, the landscape is a bit... boring, no?" Hartonn very rarely left the palace, so he has no idea what most of the world looks like. Indeed, Suabos' only truly outstanding feature is the marvelously varied landscapes which are all memorialized in countless works of Suaboan art. Hartonn simply quoted the three aspects of the landscape that appear in the Suaboan National Anthem. The climates are an absurd patchwork that doesn't make any logical sense, which lead to Suaboans not having a word for meteorologist. But, there are a few places that are stable enough for long term farming. However, that land is so valuable that most cities are in the more volatile regions, and most Suaboan structures are squat, ugly things that resemble bomb shelters more than anything else.  Feh, this demonstration should be quite simple. After all, I am just better than the rest of these humans! There's no way it was built for someone with my skills! Not only am I one of the strongest individuals here by dint of my alien biology, but everyone in the royal line simply has an aura of command. That's why we're the rulers, after all! I start off by lifting a bevy of increasingly heavier objects at the Disembodied Duo's request, but I tire of the task by the time they want me to try and lift four completely full dump trucks and juggle them without dumping any of the gravel. So, I refuse. After a brief bit of chiding, they see that I'm not to be persuaded for the task and move on. This is starting to get quite droll, so when they return with the clipboard for testing my speed, I snatch it out of their hands and complete the tasks before they can get a word in edgewise. I even took the liberty of checking off the boxes associated with each task for them. Glancing at the completed sheet, Mr. Mind says, "...Satisfactory." Then, the pair waddle off towards the next test. [00:52] <Capfalcon> Roll freak [00:52] <Capfalcon> !r 2d6+2 [00:52] <Krysmbot> Capfalcon, 7+2 = 9  I can't believe that I'm being paired up with this Silver girl. And in a simple ring without even a shifting platform over acid? But, it is what it is. I'll just end this quickly. As far as my strategy? I'm going to punch her and then win. She's just a human, so I won't hit her too hard though. I don't want to kill anyone quite yet. It would probably complicate this whole "audition" of YUMADD's if it became acceptable to just murder any villain you thought was doing better than you. It just devolve into a free for all. And, while I'm sure I would win, what's the point of ruling YUMADD if there's no one left to rule? No, I'll play by the rules for now, which is what will make my victory all the sweeter. And that's what makes the loss so infuriating! I was taking it easy on her! When I charged her, she moves faster than she had any right to, and I move even faster than I had planned, sending me careening out of the arena and tumbling along the ground until I collide with the wall, well out of the arena. ...Maybe I should have actually paid attention during the Freak Chamber auditions. [00:53] <Capfalcon> Roll Danger [00:53] <Capfalcon> !r 2d6 [00:53] <Krysmbot> Capfalcon, 4 = 4  That... that Nadia! I can hardly stand her. While I'm racing down the hallway, she rewires one of the auto-defense turrets to target anyone that isn't her. She turns back down the hallway and gives me a pair of middle fingers while sticking out her tongue at me. Then, I take a laser bolt to the chest that hurls me back down the hallway. I try to outrace it, but the targeting software is too good. Thus, I'm forced to wait until one of the dorky villains beats the turret. Then, so they don't get any ideas about reactivating it while they're on the other side, I pick them up and carry them with me. Of course, now it's personal. I catch up to her later in the course. I rush past her and take the last rope to swing across a pit filled with reject science experiments. I can fly, so I obviously don't need it. Which I make perfectly clear by flying up and tying up the remaining ropes to the overhead bar. I turn around, give a smug grin and a faux bow, and then fly on. Finally, I reach the last door... I've seen five bruisers that could be almost as strong as I am go up against it and not make any progress. Almost as strong, of course. But, I don't feel like wasting my time. So, instead, I just look it over for a moment. I spot a narrow, sliding slot at eye level, and so... I knock. The slot above the door opens and narrow eyes glare down at me. Before he can say anything, I look him right in the eyes as I give him the full force of my aura of command and say, "Open the door. Now." Before the man behind the door can collect himself, he has obeyed my command and opened. Without waiting, I regally stride right through the now open door. [00:53] <Capfalcon> Roll Trouble [00:53] <Capfalcon> !r 2d6-1 [00:53] <Krysmbot> Capfalcon, 8-1 = 7  A test. An actual, written test? I grunt in disgust at the very idea. But, this might give me some insight into what traits that this M.A.D.D. organization values. I suppose I'll take it. Of course, I don't bother filling in the Hardcore History section. I have only been here for a few months, so there's no way they could expect me to know every tiny detail about their planet's insignificant villainous history. Maniacal Maths is by far the easiest for me, as the royal tutors were quite inventive with discovering ways to. They never asked how many grams of Luidonium, an exceedingly unstable, and thus valuable, mineral mined from the Global Authority's asteroid mines, would be required to break into through the vault door of the Modern Marvels’ North American High Security Wing. I don't know those conversion rates between Luidonium and TNT, and to be honest, I don't care to guess. So, I just say, "Hijacking a single shipment of Luidonium would be more than enough for any door on the planet. Once you have it, it's just busywork that can be offloaded to an underling." I think I do relatively well on the other sections, but it never hurts to stack the odds. So, during one of the breaks, I corner Anarchy, some scrawny, short brainiac who's trying to pull off (what I believe is) a "punk" look. His drooping mohawk and belt of strange gadgets doesn't seem to help him with my aura of command, and before long, he spills his guts on the last few trick questions. Hm. Those answers actually sound better. Not that I'd let him know. I nod my head, as if that's what I expected to hear, then say, "You answers are adequate. You may leave now." Once I get back to the test, I check what I have against what I have, and I'm forced to conclude that his answers were... well... more correct. Not that I was wrong, of course. He just... came up with more efficient answers. Still feeling slightly annoyed, I erase what I have and write his answers. [00:53] <Capfalcon> roll Superior [00:53] <Capfalcon> !r 2d6+2 [00:53] <Krysmbot> Capfalcon, 4+2 = 6  "So, tell me about your mother." I blinks at this, then glare back, saying, "I've only been on this planet for about a few months, and even I know that's a pointless, cliché question." Counter Culture simply nods and starts scribbling on a little pad shaped like a red apple. A solid hour of inane questions later, I'm growing more annoyed, but I've always been good at being patient with my leasers (i.e. everyone). That patience doesn't escape Counter Culture's notice, but eventually he tires of the game. He puts the pad aside, "accidently" revealing that the notes he was taking during their conversation was nothing but little doodles and one person games of tic-tac-toe. I remain stone-faced, aside from an irritated eye-tick. Then, he looks me right in the eyes and says, "So, why do you think you deserve to rule back home? From what I hear, things are going quite smoothly back there. And, from what you've said, it sounds like you did nothing but cause trouble. Why would they even want you back?" After an hour of pointless questions, I snap, "That's a drat lie!" Counter Culture doesn't say anything, simply waiting for me to elaborate. I'm still fuming and looking to defend my claim to rule, so I blurt out, "I... didn't always cause trouble. For a long while, I played the part of the dutiful second in line, but I never got any recognition from anyone. Especially not from my sister. Eventually, it was clear that I'd never be appreciated without doing something they couldn't ignore." Counter Culture produced a plain, yellow legal pad while I was distracted and actually begins taking notes now. "Yes, I think we're getting somewhere now." [00:54] <Capfalcon> roll menace [00:54] <Capfalcon> !r 2d6 [00:54] <Krysmbot> Capfalcon, 6 = 6 Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 05:33 on May 23, 2016 |
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May 13, 2016 06:19
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Tricky Dick Nixon posted:Disembodied Duo I shrug, going along with their battery of tests. I can't say I've ever pried too deep into the specifics of the aura, but I run an extra barrage of tests for them, showing them that I can give orders to any inferiors around. In villainy, the practical applications are quite obvious. I'm picturing the "command aura" as basically the reason Hartonn's family is in charge in the first place. Their ancestors had a strange mutation that made people want to follow them, and now everyone views them as the rulers because... well... they should just be in charge, right? Tricky Dick Nixon posted:Describe one of the benefits provided by your M.A.D.D. membership beyond the standard. As a member of the royal family of Suabos, I actually do have a basic legal background. Have to know how to write and rule on all those laws once I'm king, after all. But, the contract seems written for the benefit of people with less legal experience than I have, and as such it's a quick task to figure it out. The only really interesting clause is that YUMADD is required to repair or replace my royal spaceship in the event of any damage caused during a heist or other villainous activity. It's a bit of a relief to know that I'm not going to be stuck on this planet even if one of my foolish teammates does something that causes my ship to be destroyed. Tricky Dick Nixon posted:Describe one critical weakness of your character, or a piece of blackmail that could truly and materially stop you in your tracks. I stew, thinking it over for a bit. A vulnerability. I don't want anything that could actually kill me, but... I don't want to tell them about that either. But, I can't think of anything else non-lethal enough to satisfy their safety valve. "There's... an old law on Suabos. An incredibly old law. It says that anyone can challenge any member of the royal house, baring the king and queen. If the challenger wins, they can take the loser's place in the line of succession. But, if the challenger loses... well... their life is forfeit Also, if the heir refuses, they are automatically removed from succession." "But, the Rite of Challenge is incredibly elaborate, and a single error in the proclamation voids the whole thing. But there's a little loophole that's even less well known. Even among the scant few people who know of it, almost all of them think that it has to be some sort of fight or other gladiatorial display of prowess, but the challenge can be just about anything that would last more than five minutes and has a clear winner and loser. I'm sure there's more specific limits to rule out games of chance, but I lost interest in researching it once I found that no one of royal blood is allowed to issue such a challenge. That law got added after something about 'An endless cycle of constant challenges causing disorder and confusion across the entire planet.'" Technically, only the current heir is legally obligated to observe Rite of Challenge, but between Hartonn's obsession with being treated as the crown prince and the mockery he'd receive back home for refusing, he's basically unable to ignore a properly delivered challenge. Tricky Dick Nixon posted:Describe the form your contract takes. The contract isn't written down, but instead, it's in the form of a pact worm, a small, brownish worm-like creature bio-engineered to make interstellar commerce easier. Pact worms are used throughout the galaxy to seal bargains. Once both sides agree to a bargain, the knowledge is psychically imprinted on the worm. Then, the worm is cut in half, and both parties eat their half. The contract is gradually imprinted on their mind over the course of a day and, once imprinted, is almost impossible to forget. After the worm's work is done, it exits through the ear (or ear equivalent) and is ready to be stored, in case anyone else needs to be made aware of the contracts' contents. Lord Playfair doesn't actually consume his half, saying he's well aware of all the contract's nuances. But... I think it's because he doesn't have a mouth. quote:Hartonn: At some point during the summer, you are informed by Madame Mode, accompanied by the Valets, that your parents are here to see you. It appears that ultimately they found out where you disappeared off to (Earth), and are providing you a means of connecting back to them. Do you take this up, or would it interrupt your self-exile? Do you try and act out in a particular way in response? And if you do go to “meet” them, how do you react to them not being in here in person, but rather using the Interocitor console to communicate with you across subspace? Much to my later shame, I jump at the news, thinking that they've finally seen the error of their ways and are going to invite me home to be the true crown prince, making this entire farce unnecessary. But, of course, not only would they not be bothered to show up in person (It's the interstellar equivalent of a day trip! And I'm their only son! It's not that unreasonable!), but they simply want to make sure that I'm "safe" and that I know that "they love me and support me in my latest hobby." Hobby! This is a "hobby" to them?! They even had the gall to say, "And you can come home anytime you want. We miss you, Harty!" It's just... so infuriating! They're still not taking me seriously! But, I'll show them! I'll bend this world to my will, and even my stupid sister will have to admit that I'm the superior heir! Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 22:15 on May 29, 2016 |
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May 29, 2016 20:39
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