shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

Apparently that having happened before is why this is happening now, because the Heir fails to understand basic cause and effect.

It's not our blood. Just blood. It's hard to explain because people elsewhere on the Paths don't live where science and magic grew up together like it did for us, but blood can just. Exist. Without really belonging to anyone. Only when it's an Omen though, and blood welling out of the ground is like "thirteen carrion crows eating a corpse that looks just like you during a lunar eclipse while lightning strikes the only ash tree for miles but is conveniently right next to them without any storm" levels of hitting you over the head with how much of an Omen it is. When all the statues along the faultline started manifesting blood before the sundering it was all the same blood. It's different blood now, because it's a different Omen, but all the blood out of the ground is the same.

As for why burying us wrong is making blood come out of the ground, you have to handle the dead properly. Fucking it up a little means their soul has to find its way alone. Fucking it up a lot doesn't just fuck up the dead or the place where you're burying people, it fucks up everything tangentially related until everything is fucked! The last time someone really fucked up handling the dead on such a big scale we lost like a third of the world so.

 

Can I ask what you are? You look so strong!

 

-waves- [You´re not gonna join in the general fight if one happens right?]

 

That's good for your partners then.

I'm good at asking nicely.
[He chuckles, dropping a little kiss on the back of Jason's head.]

Oh I love it when you're mean. To me.
[Obnoxiously bright and innocent smile.]

 

Oh, sweet, not too far ahead of where I--

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, no you don't, mister, you stop that right now. [Wiretap raps his knuckles sharply against the inside of one of Thunderwing's wrists.] <She's not following us home. She doesn't exist in our home. Do we need to leave?>

 

Don't know, I'm the only one like myself that I have ever met. Hatched alone, or maybe last, out of an egg like a geode down deep in the earth.

 

<What You Think Crippling People Until Theyre Useless Is Better Than Just Getting It The Fuck Over With????>

[She deflates a little.]
I Can Leave. Im Being A Bit Of A Dick Or Something Probably.

 

Hmmm. That sounds lonely. I don't want to assume for you, though. It kind of sounds like a worm, though!

Can I pat you or would that not be appropriate?

 

I would prefer no pat. I'm no worm, not like I understand them.

 

They come from the ground, too, and then they eat and change based on what they eat. I've never met any, though.

 

Ain't plannin' on it, no.

 

I've never been able to carry shit out of here but I can show you how to make them! You can set 'em for manual if you want, I just live a half-step into the Cyberpunk Future and do everything digitally -she goes \o/ and hologram screens appear behind her, only to the people who've expressed an interest, with instructions (labelled 'Destructions'), complete with cute little cartoony animations showing each step-

-...And a listing of what every ingredient tastes like, but 'NOT A FOOD' on everything that shouldn't be ingested?-

-A HANDFULL OF TECHNICOLOR SMOKE GRAPES TOSSED TO YOU, TOO!-

 

[Thunders pauses, then deflates, leeeeeeaning down to boop his crest against Wiretap's forehead.] <No. Watch your show.

...Can I listen with you?>

<Dying is dying. That's fine. But there should be at least part of a body left, a spark to give back to the Ground and a shell to give to the egglings.> [Thunderwing is very carefully Not Looking at Chroma while he talks.]

 

[Good. Can I pay you in noodles? The othe giant robots eats noodles.]

 

stop it!!!! bark bark bark!!!

YOU STOP TOO! everyone is always talk talk talk and when youre not talking youre yelling! no one knows how to be fucking quiet!

 

[Cyberpunk future who she's just over here air-typing to put the notes into her BRAIN COMPUTER]

[She grumpily points at where her missing horn would go if it wasn't blown off]
<Fucking Crude Ass Overkilling Clowns That Cant Use A Bomb Without Leaving Something To Piss People Off With??? The Fucker That Grabbed My Horn Lost An Arm, But No More.>

[Fluffed Up Anger Chitter that's distinctly a lot of Alternian Cusswords.]

 

*Grunts* I was mad because loud noises Hurt. I apologize. I don't talk much, don't do things outside of my cave much.

 

>:(
[a rolled-up newspaper is summoned]

oh ):

im sorry too, ill try not to bark at you too much

 

Once somebody makes you, maybe.

I'll keep that in mind, circus boy.
-Despite the slightly mean tone, he's smiling. Oh look is that a couch behind him? It is! He sits down, slowly enough that Dick can make himself comfortable, and prepares for a trashy TV and vigilante type crafting party.-

-Now that his hands are free, he fires off a sloppy salute in her direction-
Thanks. I'm not the tech guy, so I'll probably do that. Gonna practice making 'em in here, so I don't fuck up too bad if I remember how outside of here. Memory's kind of a crapshoot these days.

 

-he eyes the noodles, and just barely keeps a neutral face when she offers-
Thanks, but it ain't really my thing. How 'bout I just don't get paid for keepin' a level head?