Typically, new supers are a thing to be celebrated…but a supervillain has just released a ‘super virus’ and it’s causing certain people to spontaneously loose control of their dormant superpowers. Now, new supers are developing at a rapid rate, and they don’t have control over their powers.
Character A is sitting in class when the silent classroom explodes into noise as Character A can suddenly hear everybody’s thoughts.
Character B wakes up with a splitting headache. Going to the mirror, they see that their eyes are emitting a bright, green light, and Character B can levitate objects at will.
Character C is in a heated argument with Character D when all of a sudden, a large storm cloud manifests indoors and begins pouring rain over them both.
Character E is at work when they feel a strange tingling in their hands. Weirded out, Character E looks down at their hands and discovers that there are flames pouring out of their palms.
Our party has found our way into a giant dead tree that was once the home to a very wealthy elf and is now infested with undead and fiends. Most of the party’s energy is spent on keeping the Pheonix Sorcerer (who is also our party’s herbalist) from burning the place down.
We find ourselves in a large indoor garden complete with magical fake sun and weeping treant gardener. Through circumstances the sorcerer has become invisible (partially my fault for rubbing him with a flower that turns people invisible) and found his way into a shack kept dark to grow mushrooms in. Four major mushroom colonies are in here, all of which the rest of the party has identified before, but the sorcerer want paying attention.
Through terrible rolls the sorcerer has falsely identified three of the mushrooms as deadly deadly poison, then he gets to the fourth… Which actually is deadly deadly poison.
Sorc: I attempt to identify the glowing white mushroom. *Rolls, gets a two*
DM: you’re pretty sure this mushroom is great on pizza.
Sorc: okay I have an idea! I pick one.
DM: with bare hands?
Sorc: what no! I’ve got gloves in my Herbalists kit. I put them on when I’m about to herbal.
DM: okay you pick a mushroom. It still glows
Sorc: okay I put some of the spores from the sleep flower on it… And then a petal from the invisible flower!
DM: well the mushroom still glows but is now invisible and has little spores on it.
Sorc: okay cool… I eat it.
Whole party stares
DM: roll a con save *sorc fails* okay you do to 0 HP, roll a death save
Sorc: aw shit
Fighter/bard: wait 0 HP?
DM: yeah he’s dying
Me: that… *Finally realizes* oh…
Fighter/bard: Pheonix Sorcerer…
Me: when he hits 0 HP…
Sorc: oh yeah, I use Pheonix spark
DM: *reads the rules* okay yeah… You’re not dead… *Points to rest of the party* you guys hear an explosion and see fire blow a hole in the roof of the mushroom shack
Sorc: *leaves the shack looking like a blown up cartoon character* do NOT go in there!
This is from one of the trilogy era fan books, an interview with Ace Attorney writer/creator/director Takumi Shu about Phoenix and Edgeworth. I posted it on the PW Kink Meme before but since I finally jumped on the Tumblr bandwagon, I figured I might as well put it up here too. Enjoy~
Interviewer: The profile that the fans came up with for Wright is published on page 46. What’re your thoughts on it?
Shuu: You all put a lot of thought into that, didn’t you? Personally when it comes to Wright, the more I try to unravel him, the less I understand. When it comes to Edgeworth, he’s a little more unstable in some ways than the average person, so that actually makes it easier to think up interesting replies for him. But with Wright, I feel like he’s the type who leads a relatively normal life with both feet on the ground. And he’s quite average. That actually makes it more difficult to imagine what his life style is like.
I: As you say, Inaba-san and Iwamoto-san both described Wright as “average.” (see page 48)
S: I suppose so. He gives the impression of having been raised in a very normal family. I think he probably grew up in municipal housing or apartment building with his family. I bet even now he’s renting a normal apartment. He probably commutes to the bath house and stuff.
I: When it comes to his mode of transportation between his place of residence and his office or the bath house, it seems that a lot of fans are of the opinion that he rides his bike…
S: Couldn’t it be like a granny bike [characterized by having a basket on the front for carrying a purse/groceries]? I don’t really think a mountain bike suits him (lol) Just so we’re clear, I don’t ride a granny bike (lol)
I: Train and bike were mentioned, but what about other modes of transportation?
S: It’s been established that he doesn’t own a car. I can’t picture him driving one, it just doesn’t fit his image (lol)
I: Does he have his driver’s license?
S: Probably not.
I: While we’re on the subject, what about you, Shu-san? Do you have your license?
S: I don’t, actually (lol). That might have influenced Wright in a way.
I: The next item on the player input survey is about “part time jobs he had in college.” In average Wright’s case, there seems to be a general consensus that it would’ve likely been something that had a lot to do with serving people’s daily needs or the hospitality industry, but since he was enrolled in the art department, I think it would be interesting if he’d done some artistic modeling.
S: He might’ve also been something like a manga artist’s assistant.
I: What exactly was Wright studying in the art department?
S: I actually have an established headcannon about that. He was hoping to become a Shakespearian actor. That’s why he was enrolled with the art department. Influenced by that experience, his gestures tend to be a little exaggerated
I: So did he plan on someday going to England to study acting, then?!
S: I think he did. But then while he was enrolled, a newspaper article about Edgeworth caught his eye. After that he changed courses and started studying to be a defense attorney so that he could meet Edgeworth.
I: I wouldn’t have expected him to pursue an acting career. So does this mean that he’s actually pretty capricious?
S: I wouldn’t call him capricious exactly; I think he’s more the type that once he starts thinking a lot about a certain thing, he becomes very single-mindedly fixated on that thing (lol). I already mentioned that in the “his ‘type’” section though, didn’t I?
I: I see. Let’s talk about his taste in cell phones. What sort of phone do you imagine him owning? I’m betting that since he’s hopeless with technology, he has a very basic model that he’s used and loved for a long time. Is that right?
S: It’s probably one of those old basic straight phones [as opposed to a slider or flip phone which were more common in Japan when this was written]. But even as old as it is, he still hasn’t managed to ruin it with over use. I doubt he’d bother to replace it until it actually breaks… He doesn’t seem like he’d be able to afford an upgrade before that time (lol)
I: Wright keeps taking jobs that don’t end up paying much, so he doesn’t seem like he has much money.
S: And we probably shouldn’t underestimate the cost of maintaining that office of his. It’s in pretty good shape, and there’s a decent amount of room in there. But I think that for Wright, in contrast to wealthy Edgeworth, a poorer image suits him pretty well. If you think of him that way, he, how should I put this… it adds flavor to his character (lol)
Interviewer: Looking at the responses we gathered from the fans, we got some pretty nice comments, but it still feels like there are gaps here and there. What can you tell us about Edgeworth’s character?
Shu: Compaired to Wright, don’t you think Edgeworth’s details are easier to imagine? How should I put this… it’s easy to play around with different aspects of his character. Once I decided that he was rich, various inspirations about him just kept coming to me.
I: Speaking of his wealthiness, it looks like the fans, in regard to his living quarters, imagined him to have rather expensive tastes.
S: I wonder (lol). I think he might be the owner of a large dog. Its collar is white and has frills on it. If you’re going to keep a large dog like that indoors, I suppose an expensive apartment would be best. He’d be like, “Hey, Pess! What’re you barking at?!”
S: That’s the dog’s name (lol) Edgeworth doesn’t seem like the type who’d be good at communicating with other people or horses, Pess is the only one he can really communicate well with.
I: Pess is the only one, huh? (lol) That’s pretty blunt.
S: If Pess were to die, Edgeworth’s world might come to an end. He’s a man who lives in that sort of delicate balance.
I: Edgeworth’s emotional state really depends on Pess’s wellbeing, doesn’t it? So even though he puts up a strong front for the rest of the world, he allows himself to be vulnerable in front of Pess. Is that it?
S: Not only that, but Edgeworth is a very two-faced character. At first, I planned to write him as the type of man without any chinks in his armor. But then… in the strategy guide published by Futabasha, Suekane-san drew a comic in which Edgeworth was a Steel Samurai fan. Now that I think about it,that was what caused Edgeworth’s character to begin to crumble (lol). I began to think “he might actually be cuter if there were chinks in his armor.”
I: Between Wright and Edgeworth, which one do you view as being cuter?
S: Wright is heavily modeled after my own personality, so I can’t really think of him as “cute.” Maybe it’s because when I write from Wright’s point of view, I’m basically just writing what I would think in that situation.
I: So from Wright’s perspective, Edgeworth is…
S: He’s probably thinking that Edgeworth is a pretty cute guy (lol). The second game was when Edgeworth really began to come into his own as a character. So as I was writing it, I began to want to give him a little more development, and I came up with an episode where Wright’s it a really tough spot and Edgeworth helps him out.
I: You’re right; it was the fourth case of the second game where we really began to see Edgeworth as a good guy. It really gave credibility to the claim that he was Wright’s best friend. Now, returning to the topic of the profiles, I’m curious as to what you have to say about Edgeworth’s taste in music.
S: He might be a ppongjjak fan. [Pponjjak= Korean techno/disco music XDDDD]
I: P-ppongjjak?! That’s… rather unexpected…
S: What would be the fun in making him a classical music fan? So he’d be like, standing at attention, listening to ppongjjak. I think that style of music actually suits Edgeworth’s character pretty well.
I: According to the opinions of some players, they could imagine him “singing a passionate rendition of the English song 'My Way.’” Might he sing this song after a victory in court?
S: Sometimes he’ll do things in accordance with the Von Karma family tradition. That means if he wins a trial, he definitely sings “My Way.” (lol) Manfred Von Karma would hold the mic out to him and say, “Sing, Miles.” Franziska might also join him.
I: Speaking of the Von Karma family, it’s amazing how he had all those Von Karma-isms carefully hammered into him since around his middle school years.
S: He received special accelerated education for gifted children, so by the time he was around 20 years old, he fit in pretty well at the Von Karma family dinner table. By the way, the old housekeeper that currently tends to Edgeworth’s fancy appartment has been with him since back then (lol)
I: The old housekeeper left the Von Karmas so that she could be with Edgeworth, huh? (lol)
S: But I think of Edgeworth as being the type of man who really appreciates time to himself, so on such occasions the housekeeper won’t disturb him. I wonder what it is about Edgeworth’s character that makes him so easy to play with (lol). It’s strange.
She’s the world’s most famous supermodel. This comes with a stalker who proves to be more dangerous than she ever imagined and a 24-hour bodyguard who’s as serious as he is handsome.
In a world where she no longer feels safe, Betty Cooper fights to get her life back and discovers all the things she had been missing along the way.
To B.C. I Still Love You is ending soon so I thought up this little gem. I hope ya’ll like it. :)
You’ve heard those stories about celebrities who have been killed by their crazy stalker fans. It’s pretty rare, but it does happen. There are always going to be fans who tend to get a little too obsessive, a little too attached. Sometimes it’s fine. Sometimes this just means that they write you letters every single day or send you packages with used condoms or something just as equally disgusting. It wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it was to be expected when you were famous. It was something you were made aware of beforehand.
Betty Cooper’s situation started with a letter.
She was used to getting a lot of fan mail. It was the entire reason that she opened up a P.O. box. Being a widely sought after model would do things for your popularity, believe it or not. She never expected that she’d end up on a shitty informercial, so the fact that she was on the cover of fashion magazines like Vogue, Cosmo, Glamour, and Elle was kind of insane to her. Insane but very welcomed.
She was used to the letters that she’d get in the mail about how much she was adored, if she could please follow a fan on Twitter, if she could check out someone’s Instagram page. She was used to people writing her and telling her about how she gave them the confidence to go out and do what they loved, how she saved them. Those were the things that she loved. She loved knowing that she could help people out in the world. She wasn’t exactly sure what she did to help them out exactly, but she wasn’t complaining. If she helped people reach their goals then she was happy.
It wasn’t all nice, though. She’d also get quite a bit of hate mail. Her manager was good about tossing it out before she could read it, but sometimes a few snuck by and every time it was just as hard to read as the first time. Letters screaming at her for posing naked on magazine covers (even though she always covered herself), calling her a whore and slut and every other imaginable name possible. Telling her to find God and ask him for forgiveness for her sinful acts. She didn’t understand those people. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was her job, her passion. She tried to ignore their words, but you can only get called a “gold digging home wrecker” so many times before it started to mess with your head. She knew it was dumb. She didn’t understand how she was a gold digger. She had her own money and plenty of it. She also wasn’t a home wrecker, she hadn’t even seriously dated anyone since she started modeling and definitely not anyone who was married, but she guessed it didn’t matter. People would think what they liked to think.
Then the other letters started coming in.
The first one was right after she started casually dating NFL football star Reggie Mantle. It wasn’t anything serious at all, hardly even a relationship. They’d mainly been on a few dates for publicity because their managers said they were an attractive couple. Betty went along with it. Reggie was a nice guy, funny, and really good at keeping up a conversation. It also definitely helped that he was super handsome. But that’s all it was, just casual dating. They never even kissed.
That didn’t matter though.
Some paparazzi got a picture of them walking around Beverly Hills while eating ice-cream. It was an innocent picture, nothing romantic about it at all except for the headline that was printed all over every news tablet that mattered.
NFL HEARTTHROB REGGIE MANTLE STEPS OUT WITH MODEL GIRLFRIEND BETTY COOPER.
She could never really get over how the media was able to twist things so quickly, but she didn’t make a fuss about it. She knew this would likely happen when she agreed to the date. It was business.
Her manager dropped off her mail to her on a Thursday morning.
She didn’t actually open any of it until that Saturday night. She’d been swamped with shoots and she was looking forward to having a glass of wine and reading through her mail. Sometimes she wished she had just thrown it all away.
The first few letters were the basic fan appreciation stuff and she smiled at the sweetness in them. She smiled as a girl wrote to her about her week and how her crush had asked her out. She laughed at a story that a guy told her about a first date gone wrong. This was a way that she loved to connect with her fans. It was refreshing.
Throughout all of the mail, one stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was a black envelope. She’d never seen a black envelope before and she was immediately interested in its contents. It looked like every other envelope in her lap, but for some reason something felt really sinister about it.
Now she wishes she never opened it.
Inside of it was a cut out of a magazine cover that had her and Reggie on it. Someone had crossed out Reggie’s face with what she had assumed was a dull reddish marker. However as she looked closer she realized it wasn’t marker at all.
It was blood.
“Oh, my god,” she gasped, dropping the letter immediately.
With shaky hands she called her manager and begged her to come over immediately.
They spent the new few days trying to find out who had sent her the letter but it was no use. There was no return address.
She didn’t understand why she was so bothered by the whole thing. She was sure that it had to have been something that celebrities went through. She knew that fans could get possessive of their idols, but this just felt different. It felt wrong and really fucked up.
When there was nothing left to examine and no further leads on who could have sent it to her, her team was forced to let the whole thing go. Luckily things ended up dying down. For a while at least.
The next time, it was after a rather seductive photoshoot with another male model. She posed with male models quite often, it was part of her job and it didn’t bother her. They were usually guys that she met on the very day of the photoshoot and then she never talked to them again.
The package was dropped off on the front steps of her apartment in Los Angeles. The only time a package was ever delivered to her doorstep was when it was a personal one from family members or close friends. The doorman knew this and so she thought nothing of it.
She went into her apartment and placed the package on top of the island in her kitchen. She opened the package and pulled out the first thing she saw, which was a letter. It didn’t say anything on it except for a quote from the Bible.
Deuteronomy 22:22: “If a man is found lying with a married woman, then both of them shall die, the man who lay with the woman, and the woman…”
The quote sent chills down her spine. She didn’t understand it at all. Who was married? Was this even meant for her? And who the hell would send this to her that was a close friend or family member?
She reached into the package again and her hand enclosed over a hard, cold handle. With a shaky breath, and a racing heart, she pulled the object out and immediately started to scream.
In her hands was a knife, but that wasn’t the worst part. The blade was covered in dried blood. She threw the knife to the ground, knowing somehow that this was sent by the same person who had sent her the picture of her and Reggie.
Thirty minutes later, her manager was yelling at the front desk worker for not knowing how someone could sneak past him without his knowing. The police were trying to find any surveillance of who could have dropped off the package, but whoever it was, they were good. They knew where not to step in order to avoid cameras. It made her wonder just how often they frequented her building. The blood ended up being identified as an animal’s and she didn’t know if the thought was comforting or even more frightening.
“We will find out who’s behind this, Miss Cooper,” one of the officer’s told her.
“What if you don’t?” She whispered back from where she sat curled up on her recliner in the living room. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Her apartment was an open space, full of ceiling-to-floor windows. The blinds were closed on all of them now, but she wondered just how many times this person had looked through her windows and seen into her apartment; had seen her changing, doing the dishes, cleaning. Had they known her daily routines?
“We will. I promise.”
It’s an empty promise and that night she dreams of knives and hooded figures.
The third and more recent time it happens is the most random.
Nothing provokes it this time, at least nothing that she’s aware of. She’s been taking a bit of time off, but she knows she can’t do that forever. She needs to get back out there soon. She’s spent the few weeks off of time with her best friend and Academy Award winner, Veronica Lodge. She doesn’t feel safe at her own place anymore and Veronica offers to let her stay at her house for as long as she needs.
It happens when Veronica’s at dinner with her boyfriend.
Betty is doing laps in the large indoor swimming pool. Swimming calms her and eases her nerves that never seem to go away these days. She’s all by herself, but she doesn’t worry. Veronica lives in a gated community and it makes her feel safe.
The doorbell rings, loud throughout the entire house, and Betty jumps up in surprise. She feels panicked for a moment before she remembers where she is. Veronica always has random people showing up to her house. It’s probably just her agent or one of her friends, so Betty doesn’t think much of it whenever she gets out of the pool and covers herself in her robe before making her way to the front door.
She’s both uneasy and wary when she opens the door and sees that no one’s there. She heard the doorbell ring, she knows she did. She looks around, but it isn’t until she looks down that she sees a small rectangular box on the doormat. She picks it up and gulps as she sees that it’s her name written across the box.
She considers chucking it in the garbage, but remembers where she is. There’s no way her creepy stalker was able to figure out where she’s been staying or where Veronica lives.
She closes the door and locks it before going to sit in front of Veronica’s fireplace. She opens the box and this time, when she sees the contents inside of it, she doesn’t scream.
It’s full of pictures of her. Not just any kind of pictures though; it’s full of pictures of herself that she’s never seen before.
Pictures of her walking around Los Angeles by herself and with friends. Pictures of her inside of her apartment building that were clearly taken from outside. Pictures of her showing up to Veronica’s house. Pictures of her from a year ago when she had just gotten her haircut for a shoot. Pictures of her naked in her bedroom. They were all pictures of her that no person should have had.
She isn’t aware that she’s silently crying until a tear falls onto the picture of herself that she’s holding.
There’s a small card at the bottom of the box and she pulls it out.
No matter where you go, I’m always right there with you. I hope you enjoyed your swim. xx
Veronica comes home from her date to cop cars outside of her house. Her and her longtime boyfriend, Archie Andrews, rush inside; both scared of what they might find.
“What the hell is going on?” She shouts, unnerved.
“Miss Lodge, do you have anywhere safe you can go?” A cop asks her, trying to calm her down.
“Excuse me?” She bites. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Ronnie,” Archie says as he taps her shoulder and points to the right.
There, in the corner of the room, is Betty standing pale as if she’d just seen death itself. Her eyes are blank and it looks as if she’s staring right through the wall.
“Betty?” Veronica asks as she goes up to her best friend. “What happened?”
“Miss Lodge,” another police officer asks her, “have you seen anyone suspicious around lately? Maybe someone who you’ve never seen before that you’ve suddenly noticed? A person who you seem to see everywhere you go now?”
“What? No. No, why?”
Betty lifts up her hand and hands Veronica whatever it was that she had been holding.
It’s a photo. It’s a photo of Veronica and Archie alone at dinner tonight.
“What the hell is this?” She asks, voice shaky.
“Turn it around,” Betty whispers.
There, written on the back of the picture, are two sentences. It’s just two sentences but it’s enough to make Veronica’s entire body go cold.
It’d be so easy for me to get to you, lonely one. Sleep well.
Like, you can’t really take the human schedule and shift it 12 hours because we go out in the evening all the time, but the sun actually burns trolls. And there’s parts of the world where the sun doesn’t go down for months, or even more populated areas where you get only like 8 hours of moonlight a night for months.
Maybe the sun is less intense in the evenings and people can go out with adequate protection or even, like, parasols? Or maybe there’s a lot more culture around hanging out indoors, or large public places that have a roof?
Summary: Children are great, for sure, but only if they’re your kind thing. They weren’t yours so you ended up getting help from the master child himself – Kim Myungjun. You just didn’t know he would have this effect on you.
ACCESSIBILITY: Requires flying to bypass gate, MoP content
NOTES: It almost feels like cheating to include a setting that is, by this point, so iconic. But I’m doing it anyway! The non-instanced version of Yu’lon’s temple is a visual masterpiece and can be used for anything from events to guild bases. As you wander through its halls, please enjoy the nagging sensation that a virtual place that doesn’t even exist is too good for you.
Oswald dodges his fellow classmates, feinting left and right as he maneuvers down the hall towards the lunchroom, hands clasped on the straps of his backpack and a determined scowl on his face. Despite the crowd, and his diminutive stature, he sees Ed quickly, towering above most of the other sophomores, one hand clutching the handle of his lunchbox and the other adjusting his glasses as Oswald comes into focus.
“Where’s Jim?” Oswald asks as he comes to a stop in front of Ed.
“He’s in the office.”
“Still!? You said he got called there during third period!” Oswald stamps one foot in irritation. “What did he do this time?”
“I don’t know.” Ed shrugs. “The student runner didn’t say, she just handed over the note.”
A home with large, rolling fields with lots of trees for natural shelter (along with 3-sided shelters) and nice, safe wooden fencing. An airy and open barn with large stalls that allow horses tactile contact with each other when stalled AND have attached crusher dust run outs. A large outdoor with all-weather footing, a derby field, a large indoor with heat and air conditioning and a covered hot walker. That is my aesthetic.
When the paladins returned from their mission on Olkarion, the enemy defeated, a planet freed and a new alliance forged, Allura couldn’t have been more delighted. She was in such a jovial mood that even the five floating cubes chanting Coran’s silly phrases didn’t annoy her. The mission on Olkarion proved to her that the paladins really were growing stronger, that they were capable of handling things on their own sometimes. It felt good to see their progress.
After the paladins dispersed to spend the rest of their day at their leisure, Allura was a bit surprised to see Pidge linger in the bridge room. Usually the green paladin was the first to leave after being excused, rushing to work on whatever gadgets and gizmos she had in the workshop. But today the girl hesitated by the doorway, lost in contemplation. Allura waited to see if Pidge would say anything, and only after it became clear that she was stalling did Allura speak up.
This weekend “Charadise Japan”, a large indoor yuruchara event, was held
in the Grand Prince Hotel New Takanawa in Shinagawa, Tokyo. There was a
stage, workshops, a restaurant, a trick photography area, and multiple
booths selling character goods. Among gotouchi-chara in attendance were Fukka-chan, Potekuma, Melon Kuma, and Sasadangon.
1957 DeSoto Fireflite Sportsman by Greg Gjerdingen Via Flickr: I drove to Detroit, to visit the Walter P. Chrysler Museum, before it closed, to be converted into office. I arrived on Friday and the Chrysler Museum was not open until Saturday, so I went to the Henry Ford. I heard great things about it and I was not disappointed. There was not near enough time to check out all the place has to offer. I will have to return to spend more time and check out other features during the warmer seasons. Most of my time there was spent in the automotive displays.
The Henry Ford is a large indoor and outdoor history museum complex and a National Historic Landmark in the Detroit suburb of Dearborn, Michigan, USA.
Address: 20900 Oakwood Boulevard, Dearborn, MI 48124
Year built: 1929
Founder: Henry Ford
Added to NRHP: December 21, 1981
Click here for more car pictures at my Flickr site.Or here for my Car Crazy Tumblr site.