Simon

HAHA My suggestion woooorked

I'm tempted to say censor random words with things that are technically synonyms. love > lust horse> coconuts

supreme leader's benevolence caboose choo-choo

I remember in scouts (it was a strange period in my life) I did rifles at a camp one week. That was pretty fun. The next year I tried doing the shotgun (basically skeet shooting)- except my right shoulder had apparently not fully recovered from when my arm broke a full year earlier, leading to the kickback hurting like a bitch. The rifle one was pretty cool, though.

so a cow got a retirement pension it proceeded to milk it for all it was worth

kill

The Loudred family may be my single most hated pokemon in the whole series. They're just so goddamn annoying. Hariyama's pretty cool. Swalot has always been one of my darkhorse favorites. It's silly and fairly mediocre, but it's a bit endearing to me. (spoink wins all time endearing championship)

dammit grobag get your shit off my bed it is a sacred nest of sleep

I need to get around to Black Lagoon and Baccano soon. Which first?

Azumarill, amusingly enough, is now pretty damn good with Huge Power and a decent physical movepool. Plusle and Minun were basically "hey aren't double battles cool? Wait, where are you going?" Pachirisu no. Emolga was a clever idea done just slightly too weak.

BAHAHAHAHA also it's spelled algae

the inspiration for doop yes, against all odds, that guy is straight

Prologue: [spoiler2] It was a lightly raining early evening. A sedan pulled into the driveway of a two story suburban home. The house itself was notably nondescript- as if it wasn't a home, and more a large shed. The sedan's door opened, and its driver-the lone occupant- stepped out, pulling the hood of his sweater up to block the rain. Strolling to the front door, he knocked twice, then entered. Spotting his boss sitting in the kitchen reading, he spoke. "I've got the package you wanted me to pick up. It's in the trunk of the car, but we might want to wait until the rain lets up to bring it in." The man at the table looked up from the newspaper, showing a piercing pair of gray eyes, an intriguing contrast to his unkempt black hair. "It's not fragile enough that a little rain would hurt it." Standing up, he pulled an umbrella from the stand next to him. "Let's go get it in before someone spots us outside." His assistant, a man barely twenty years old with finely combed brown hair under the hood of his sweater, shrugged. "Alright then, Rammite." Rammite- a man in his mid-twenties- strode to the door, opening the umbrella before exiting the house. "You know that's supposed to bring bad luck, right?" the assistant asked with a slight smirk on his face. Rammite snorted. "I don't believe in superstition. I do what works. If it stops working, I do something different. Not that I'd expect you to get that, what with your love of gimmicks in that game of yours, Simon." The assistant- now identified as Simon- shrugged. "It's a game. Adhering to the exact same strategies, even if they work, makes it a bit less fun." Reaching the car, Simon opened the trunk, and the two peered in, looking at the package- a three-foot-long iron tube, looking a bit like an unusually long gun barrel. Rammite drew it out of the trunk, tucking it securely under his own sweater, before the two turned back to the house. Simon continued speaking. "I don't know, it's just… if you're turning a game into a job or whatever, it stops being fun." Rammite glared. "In a game, it doesn't matter. But what we're dealing with here is no game, so you'd better not treat it like one." Simon settled into an expression of calm professionalism. "I know. Once this whole thing gets underway, there won't be any time for screwing around." Entering the house, Simon closed up the umbrella as Rammite took the large lighter into the basement. Following him, the two gazed on the results of the last week of work- an intricately drawn ritual circle on the floor. Rammite planted the pipe in the center of the circle. "This still freaks me out a bit." Simon muttered too quietly for Rammite to hear, before speaking up. "Are we doing this now, then?" Rammite nodded. "Give me one minute to get the other artifact, then we'll start right away." Simon blinked. "There was a second artifact?" Rammite walked over to the small refrigerator in the corner of the basement. "Well, not exactly. It's not an artifact per se, it's more something associated with the person we're trying to summon. On the off-chance the minigun barrel isn't enough, this will ensure it works as planned." Famous last words. Rammite put the "artifact" to the right of the gun barrel, before moving aside, allowing Simon to see it for the first time. "…The hell?" "I wish this was a joke, but it's real." Simon stared incredulously. "In what universe does a sandwich on a plate… you know what, never mind. Let's just do this ritual." The two stood at opposite sides of the circle, and began chanting the incantation in unison. "O forum dwellers of Internet past, Heed these words, and bring forth a champion. A warrior of justice and good, A broker of peace and calm. Under these terms, bring him forth... Summon Servant." The circle lit up with a tremendous glow, and the pipe and sandwich dissolved into the energies of the ritual. Shading their eyes, Rammite and Simon waited for he light to die down, and "Hey, how's it going?" What. The light faded, revealing a man in his mid-thirties wearing a business suit and fedora. That wasn't unusual. What was unusual was his large white beard (especially considering his hair was black under the hat), and the shotgun slung across one shoulder. The "servant" spoke. "You summoned me, right? I'm Stamda. Heavy Weapons Guy for this shindig." Rammite twitched. The Rep Grail War was not a "shindig"! "But, thing is, my heavy weapon, Geromy is a bit too strong. Makes the fights too easy. So I'll use Sweet Bro here until I find someone who can put up a good enough fight to warrant my real weapon." Rammite twitched again. Simon looked at Rammite, who now seemed to be doing his best to make the phrase "if looks could kill" literal. "Before you say anything, I totally didn't ask for this." "Just… okay, whatever. Let's just get some planning done. The War itself won't start for another two days." As the two normal people and one magic(ish) warrior returned upstairs, Stamda spoke once more. "Hey, you got any chocolate? Or steak?" SPUF/Zero The Rep Grail War totally not a ripoff of fate zero except it totally is [/spoiler2]

chapter 2 [spoiler2] Corvo Velvet, or Corvette as his (very few) friends called him (if he could convince them to, which he couldn't), was hiding out in a forest on the outskirts of Forum City. He had, upon learning of the Rep War, made preparations to summon a Class to fight for him. He had no real plan of who he wished to summon- he'd heard the Scout class was supposedly excellent in hit-and-run tactics, though. Speed and striking power would be damned useful provided he could dodge well enough. With that in mind, he began the ritual. "Evade your foes, strike them down in an instant. Move faster than the wind, and capture my victory." As the light died down, Corvette gaped in shock at the result. An impressively muscular man... in a skin-tight, purple tank top- which only went down to the top of his stomach… and bloomers… and lipstick. Oh, and carrying a shotgun with eight barrels, two horizontal by four vertical. "Hello~ I'm Scout for this war, but you can call me Doopliss! Or Mademoiselle, actually." "Uh… I'll stick to Doopliss." Corvo managed to say, before asking the obvious question. "But, uh… what's with the outfit?" "Well!, it's what I used to wear when running that inn with my daughter!" Aaaand train of thought derailed. "…you have a daughter?" "Why, ye~es!" "then… you're…" "Yes~" "But… the outfit… the lipstick…" "I find it's fun to mess with perceptions," Doopliss said in a (very thankfully, Corvette thought) more normal voice. "If they're too distracted by my outfit and body, they'll never be able to hit me." Corvette managed to pull his mind back to a semblance of sanity. "Okay, well… if it works, I can't really complain, I guess." Corvette shook his head slightly to reorient his thoughts a bit more. "Well, the hotel I'm staying in is a couple of blocks away… I hate to ask, but would it be possible for you to wear more conventional clothing in public?" Doopliss smirked… and struck a pose. "Not a problem." And then he vanished from sight. "What the-" "Relax, it's a trick the classes can do when not in combat. We can go incorporeal, or "spectate," as it were. That way we're less likely to be spotted, but we can't fight this way." Corvette settled down. Bullet dodged. "Alright then, let's head back for now." As the teenager plus surprisingly heterosexual ghost-scout sauntered back to the hotel, Corvette had one last question. "So, that shotgun's your weapon, right? Anything special it can do?" Laughter echoed through his head. "Let's just say my special trick is called "buckshot curtain" for a reason." [/spoiler2]

see, "if" would imply the possibility of failure

New chapter will hopefully be up by the end of the night- got the ideas planned, just need to write the words. using this HOW DARE YOU IMPLY A COLLEGE STUDENT WOULD PROCRASTINATE er I had a different plan for Medic.

I'd be interested in possibly Soldier or Pyro if possible (or backup)

Got through 38 rounds on the Subway's super single line in White 2 just now. The team that beat me at round 39: Cobalion, Moltres, Raikou. .__.

[spoiler2] (black mesa theme) (philosophorum omega- fma)[/spoiler2]

Formatting fixed up a bit for prologue. The Fate/ thing is basically the idea I started with, but it's already branching off a bit. next section goooo [spoiler2]Chapter One The Holy Rep War. Legend had spoken of a path to Internet fame. Supposedly, he who vanquished all of his foes in this war would obtain all of the prestige, or "reputation," the deceased had earned in life. Naturally, once this legend was found to be real, people scrambled at the opportunity. Some for the simple glory of it. Others, for the influence it would garner. Binary simply wanted to ensure it went to the right person. That person being his teacher, Commander- an enforcer of order in the community. Upon learning of the upcoming War, Commander had used his influence to ensure he and Binary would have two of the nine slots. Binary didn't really desire victory of his own, but he did want to make sure the community's regulations were properly upheld. And if he or Commander won, that would be a certainty. Binary had already completed his summoning, receiving the Sniper-class servant for the war. Commander would summon after he completed his preparations, seeking artifacts and specific incantations to ensure that he would summon the Demoman-class, supposedly the most powerful. In any case, Binary's Sniper- a man named Silent- had been informed of his job: guard their base from any sneak attacks, and protect the two Masters at any cost. The man's name was certainly fitting, Binary thought wryly, as he had spoken only once in the week since his summoning- to tell them of his name and class. All other communications were via hand gestures and writing. Binary was shaken from his thoughts by Commander's return to the office. "I'm all set. The ritual circle's prepped outside, have Silent guard the premises." Silent gave a thumbs-up from the corner of the room, before heading over to the guard post they'd set up at the roof. "So you're certain this will get the Demoman?" Binary wondered. Commander nodded as he stood at the edge of the circle in their large courtyard, his assistant standing behind him. Commander began the incantation. "O legends of battles past, channel your power into this summon. Demolish my foes, and grant me victory." The circle erupted in smoke, forcing Commander to step back and cover his nose and mouth. "Hello there!" The oddly cheerful voice came from the center of the smoke, and as the air cleared, Binary and Commander gazed upon their supposed instrument of victory. A man in a white t-shirt, white sweatpants, and white slippers, with a top hat and cane in hand- and a disturbingly serene smile. "I'm the Demolition Man for the Rep War. My name is Cube. It's a true honor." Commander, clearly baffled, responded. "Er, where's your weapon? Doesn't the demoman use explosive weapons?" Cube smiled even wider. "I don't need anything like a weapon. Let me show you." Lazily raising his right hand over head, he snapped his fingers- and three cubes of glowing golden energy materialized in front of him. Throwing his hand forward, the cubes rocketed into the rock wall on the side of the courtyard, and exploded in a massive blast. When the conflagration from the destruction cleared, Commander and Binary gaped. The wall was entirely gone. "As you can see, with me as your servant, victory is certain." Commander smiled widely. "Excellent. I should mention it now, Binary behind me is the master of Sniper- the two of us are to be allied in the war." Cube's smile faltered for an instant, before returning. "Understood, sir." [/spoiler2]