Look at her, she comes to this place when she knows she is not pure. Allison uses the key, but she is a mere trespasser. Only I, Incubus, know the treu power of the Key of Kings. I was cut in half, destroyed, but through its Ego Key, I was reborn. We cannot blame this creature, she is being led by a false prophet, an imposter who knows not the secrets of the Key. Behold the Wielder of Names, come to scavenge and desecrate this sacred realm. My brothers, did I not My brothers, did I not tell of this day? Did I not prophesize this moment? Now, I will stop her. Now I am changed, reborn through the energy of the Key. Forever bound to Throne. Let it be known, if the Conquering King wants true salvation, she will lay down her arms, and wait for the baptism of my Key. It is time. I will teach these trespassers the redemptive power of my Key. They will learn its simple truth. KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS is lost, and she will resist. But I, Incubus, will cleanse this place of her impurity.
“In the tide of time, the fragility of man is not eon, is not millenium, is not century, is not Year, is not hour. The fragility of man is found in a clap, already gone before it noticed.”
The fragility of man happens in an instant. You are immortal and invincible, untouchable even, until you aren’t.
It doesn’t take years to die. It takes one moment, and you will never notice it when it comes.
Oh dear, it would seem that the queen to be is still unaware of his true nature. I fear that she is counteracting much of the progress she has made by continuing to allow him a share of her mind space.
Hiss! Begone, usurper! False god! May Mammon in His infinite wealth and potency devour your entire frame in one fell gulp! Depart you from the house bought with Mammon’s own consecrate coin! I may be a homeless vagrant who subsists on rusted metal, but I’d gladly bludgeon your glitter off, until my heart’s last functioning turbine gives out!
Though THE KING OF THE PIT may be devoured, the Flame of Ambition will consume whoever does so in turn. THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE KING OF THE PIT.
Earlier in the week i had cause to visit the one hundred and thirty seventh floor of the Turkey Tower in order to collect a pallet of photocopier paper. Imagine my surprise upon learning, as i pushed the heavy pallet into the lift, that some rascal had stolen the elevator cage.
Both myself and the two lift maintenance devils at the bottom of the shaft dearly wish to meet the perpetrator of this jolly jape and explain to the creature, with some considerable enthusiasm, just how very amused we were.
I regret to inform you, Preem Roadscum (or may I call you Idiot?), that I was most likely not responsible for the loss of your elevator and the inconvenience/humor thereafter.
Were I still a Regional Manager of the Bank of the Grand Dragon, when I was at the apex of my power, I would have been able to relocate all of Turkey Tower and share with you a hearty laugh and a glass of wine worth several kings’ treasuries. But alas, I am now a mere beggar and thief who squats in an elevator in the Spires District and picks the pockets of the people riding the elevator to survive.
But if you wish, I would gladly undertake a theft of a similar magnitude, if I were given the appropriate financial resources to do so.
I don’t know about elevator heists, but if you’re looking for opportunity, I happen to know a fellow wizard who is in the market for a burglar.
Magus Atticus Winch lives near sunside, and I’m told he’s eager to retrieve a backup spellbook he hid in the home of his now-ex lover. As a wizard, I know for a fact that he’ll pay no small amount in the coin of your choice to have it back.
Be warned, though. Said ex-lover is, to my knowledge, shacked up now with a rather brawny fellow, though the temperature and color of his internal flame is unknown to me. Best of luck, if you pursue such a prize. And if you make it big again, remember who told you.
OK, this page shows Alison as somewhat stupid and somewhat whiny. At the start of a poor-me whimper, she gets brought up short by Cio doing her half-hearted pretend-chaotic spiel. Then Cio gives her an out by saying to Alison to find her (and bring Luckys) once the whining’s stopped.
And the stupid sorority girl goes to bed. I predict more well-earned suffering for this immature wimp.
Hrmm… still wondering about the necklace. Looks like a piece of Mammon’s gold, from the head stamped on there. Perhaps a token of rememberance from their heist. Wonder if it holds a greater significance than just that…
Nice!!!!!!! I thought that Alison and Incubus were quits after she rejected his Key’s boosts. I’m glad they’re still in contact – mainly because that’s the more interesting alternative.
Bearer of the word Flame and sword-king of the Middle Army.
Inky is BACK!
So, the proverbial iron chain and ball in the neck still hangs heavy, eh?
Oh look, its Ten Meti’s shitty replacement in the demiurge council
Also Ten Meti’s shitty replacement as tutor for Al-YISUN.
The fool even favours subterfuge to the graceful art of cutting.
What kind of half assed demigod does that?
One that will live longer than most.
One who lives ten lifetimes of men, and does a nithing deed in each of them, earns only scorn. Perhaps pity as well.
Believed only by sword fodder.
But not one who achieves Dominion.
Is not subterfuge the art of cutting the truth?
But to do so cleanly leaves two truths. He leaves a ragged edge, and such a poor cut brings with it pain.
I think that if I reply to this post then our comments will form a nice pleasing curve.
So the all KEEP! REMINDING! HIM!
says the King of The Pit
Well, it’s his fault alone if that is his only memorable trait.
YOU RUINED THE PRETTY LOOKING COMMENT ARCH
Nay, it merely follows the sine curve now instead.
Followed by this last comment before it curves inwards again.
The Man in the Wall? Here?
DID YOU REALLY THINK IT WOULD BE THIS EASY
WHY ARE THESE FOOLS STILL BREATHING MY AIR
Nice to know I’m not the only one.
(Rap. Tap. Tap.)
Look at her, she comes to this place when she knows she is not pure. Allison uses the key, but she is a mere trespasser. Only I, Incubus, know the treu power of the Key of Kings. I was cut in half, destroyed, but through its Ego Key, I was reborn. We cannot blame this creature, she is being led by a false prophet, an imposter who knows not the secrets of the Key. Behold the Wielder of Names, come to scavenge and desecrate this sacred realm. My brothers, did I not My brothers, did I not tell of this day? Did I not prophesize this moment? Now, I will stop her. Now I am changed, reborn through the energy of the Key. Forever bound to Throne. Let it be known, if the Conquering King wants true salvation, she will lay down her arms, and wait for the baptism of my Key. It is time. I will teach these trespassers the redemptive power of my Key. They will learn its simple truth. KILL SIX BILLION DEMONS is lost, and she will resist. But I, Incubus, will cleanse this place of her impurity.
I wish I could upvote this out of spite
Long winded ain’t they.
Our reverend Space Matron approves of thy words disciple.
Thought there’d be no tenno skoom out here. Was wrong.
grakata
Hey kiddo.
a whole new meaning on “My body isn’t my body” visits
It seems Incubus comes bearing gifts, because, uh… that’s a hell of a package he’s got there.
Quick, Allison! Make out with more women! That’s how you got out last time!
Hmph… the least interesting part of a man’s body, as I heard someone rightly call it.
He is an incredibly poor swordsman, at that.
(Insert joke about Trojans here.)
Good old Incubus. This guy’s a jerk, but I can’t help but like him. Let’s see what he has in store, hmm?
I foresee him being ironically more willing to listen to Alison than Cio is. If only because being “friendly and relatable” is in his interests.
Well, if it isn’t this fucker.
“In the tide of time, the fragility of man is not eon, is not millenium, is not century, is not Year, is not hour. The fragility of man is found in a clap, already gone before it noticed.”
Twentyfifth student of Bagoret – FBC 064
Well, if the fragility of man is gone in an instant, then that would make man strong for the rest of eternity, wouldn’t it?
The fragility of man happens in an instant. You are immortal and invincible, untouchable even, until you aren’t.
It doesn’t take years to die. It takes one moment, and you will never notice it when it comes.
Oh dear, it would seem that the queen to be is still unaware of his true nature. I fear that she is counteracting much of the progress she has made by continuing to allow him a share of her mind space.
If her look upon waking is any indication, I’d wager that she’s well aware of his true nature and the dickishness he brings with his presence alone.
It was an uncomfortable guest, but one that she was familiar with. […] Her mind was a mighty Tower, with walls a hundred thousand paces high.
Actually, she looks like she’s snarling a lot lately, but I think that’s just the scar over her mouth.
Are you sure she’s just *allowing* him to occupy that space? Alison is still weak. She might not have much of a choice.
oh god oh fuck
alas i look only towards the future for i have
FORGOT ABOUT THIS BITCH
Hiss! Begone, usurper! False god! May Mammon in His infinite wealth and potency devour your entire frame in one fell gulp! Depart you from the house bought with Mammon’s own consecrate coin! I may be a homeless vagrant who subsists on rusted metal, but I’d gladly bludgeon your glitter off, until my heart’s last functioning turbine gives out!
Though THE KING OF THE PIT may be devoured, the Flame of Ambition will consume whoever does so in turn. THE KING IS DEAD, LONG LIVE THE KING OF THE PIT.
Earlier in the week i had cause to visit the one hundred and thirty seventh floor of the Turkey Tower in order to collect a pallet of photocopier paper. Imagine my surprise upon learning, as i pushed the heavy pallet into the lift, that some rascal had stolen the elevator cage.
Both myself and the two lift maintenance devils at the bottom of the shaft dearly wish to meet the perpetrator of this jolly jape and explain to the creature, with some considerable enthusiasm, just how very amused we were.
I regret to inform you, Preem Roadscum (or may I call you Idiot?), that I was most likely not responsible for the loss of your elevator and the inconvenience/humor thereafter.
Were I still a Regional Manager of the Bank of the Grand Dragon, when I was at the apex of my power, I would have been able to relocate all of Turkey Tower and share with you a hearty laugh and a glass of wine worth several kings’ treasuries. But alas, I am now a mere beggar and thief who squats in an elevator in the Spires District and picks the pockets of the people riding the elevator to survive.
But if you wish, I would gladly undertake a theft of a similar magnitude, if I were given the appropriate financial resources to do so.
I don’t know about elevator heists, but if you’re looking for opportunity, I happen to know a fellow wizard who is in the market for a burglar.
Magus Atticus Winch lives near sunside, and I’m told he’s eager to retrieve a backup spellbook he hid in the home of his now-ex lover. As a wizard, I know for a fact that he’ll pay no small amount in the coin of your choice to have it back.
Be warned, though. Said ex-lover is, to my knowledge, shacked up now with a rather brawny fellow, though the temperature and color of his internal flame is unknown to me. Best of luck, if you pursue such a prize. And if you make it big again, remember who told you.
What lesson is this? The final lesson of the day?
The headmaster is poorly dressed, if well elevated.
Incubus, at his most literal.
‘Tis was a nice one. Subtle.
GET OUT OF MY ORBITOR DAVID BOWIE!
And take your “Major Tom” with you!
Repeat after me, All Yi Sun! “For my will is as strong as yours and my queendom as great. You have no power over me!”
You can’t run from ambition, because you need to be ambitious to even want to be free of it.
OK, this page shows Alison as somewhat stupid and somewhat whiny. At the start of a poor-me whimper, she gets brought up short by Cio doing her half-hearted pretend-chaotic spiel. Then Cio gives her an out by saying to Alison to find her (and bring Luckys) once the whining’s stopped.
And the stupid sorority girl goes to bed. I predict more well-earned suffering for this immature wimp.
BEHOLD, THE KING OF SWORDS
Or at least a claimant to the title
Oh dear. And I had hoped his hold had waned with the Successor’s triumph. It appears I was mistaken.
Hrmm… still wondering about the necklace. Looks like a piece of Mammon’s gold, from the head stamped on there. Perhaps a token of rememberance from their heist. Wonder if it holds a greater significance than just that…
Incubus has lips like the Master of Ceremonies in Cabaret, and quite a similar attitude! Wilkommen!
Nice!!!!!!! I thought that Alison and Incubus were quits after she rejected his Key’s boosts. I’m glad they’re still in contact – mainly because that’s the more interesting alternative.
Looks like Cio and Ally’s relationship still needs a whole lot of work.
Indeed it does.
Piran floats on Irish tide
the stone around his neck is wide
but lacks the shelter to confide