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Safe For Work Worm Ideas thread
- Thread starter Prince Charon
- Start date
Angush
I have no idea what I'm doing
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Sure. I'll probably make a thread after the next chapter, since that'd make the story around 20,000 words in total.
Navrin
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Short snippet for the Worm fanfic I'm trying to write. Asima is an original character.
Taylor stood hunched over and vulnerable. "Why didn't they help me?" Taylor pleaded brokenly.
"May I give you a hug, Taylor?" Asima softly inquired.
Taylor spasmed up, eyes wide as fear warred with hope. Eventually, her head jerked down and up again.
Asima swept Taylor up into a warm hug, and squeezed harder when Taylor's arms compressed her rib cage, shaking with silent sobs. Asima switched one of her hands to rubbing her back in gentle circles. Several minutes passed before Taylor was able to start crying.
Some time later Asima sat holding Taylor on her lap, shaking slowly subsiding. Taylor flushed lightly and scrambled away from Asima before sprawling awkwardly on the grass. "Thank you," Taylor whispered.
"You're welcome, Taylor," Asima warmly replied. "Glad I could help." Asima's smile faded slightly before she softly asked her question: "Are you sure you want to know?"
Taylor's eyes flashed with anger as she nodded assertively.
"Very well," Asima whispered. "Four major reasons. First, for the most part they're scared kids who don't really know how to fight and, perhaps most importantly, they don't know that they can fight and win. Not without the backing of a larger group like a gang or JROTC."
Taylor glared at the ground sullenly.
"Secondly," Asima continued, "from what they could tell you weren't doing anything to protect yourself. You didn't fight back, you didn't join a group to help defend you, and you didn't drop out to avoid them."
Taylor's eyes flashed up to Asima, enraged. "Are you blaming me for this?" she shouted angrily. "They're been attacking me without provocation! They've been spreading rumours about me for over a year! They're responsible!" Insects buzzed loudly as they slowly gathered nearby.
Asima nodded in easy agreement. "Yes, yes they are. They're definitely responsible for their own actions. You are not to blame for that at all. However, your inaction when it came to defending yourself discouraged others from coming to your aid. You'd defined the rules of engagement. On its own this wouldn't be a deal breaker, but this further discouraged people from stepping in to help you."
Taylor's eyes slipped to the side in silent apology as her insects quieted down and returned to their routines.
"Continuing on from my prior point... bullying is extremely common at Winslow High. There have been over a hundred notable bullying campaigns this year alone, though yours was the worst by a fair margin. For the most part, these were ended by joining a group that would defend them, fighting back hard enough to discourage further attacks, or dropping out entirely. My third point is tied to this... you didn't help any of them, either."
Taylor stared down at the ground shamefully.
"Finally, people have been helping you, or at least trying. I personally know of seven people who have stepped up to those bullying you and tried to make them stop, went to the administration to try to get them to put an end to it, or otherwise tried to make things better for you. Fifty seven people dropped out of Winslow High during January, four of them people I know who did it because of how you were treated. People do care about you, Taylor. If you look for it and reach out to them, too, I think you'll be a lot happier."
Taylor stood hunched over and vulnerable. "Why didn't they help me?" Taylor pleaded brokenly.
"May I give you a hug, Taylor?" Asima softly inquired.
Taylor spasmed up, eyes wide as fear warred with hope. Eventually, her head jerked down and up again.
Asima swept Taylor up into a warm hug, and squeezed harder when Taylor's arms compressed her rib cage, shaking with silent sobs. Asima switched one of her hands to rubbing her back in gentle circles. Several minutes passed before Taylor was able to start crying.
Some time later Asima sat holding Taylor on her lap, shaking slowly subsiding. Taylor flushed lightly and scrambled away from Asima before sprawling awkwardly on the grass. "Thank you," Taylor whispered.
"You're welcome, Taylor," Asima warmly replied. "Glad I could help." Asima's smile faded slightly before she softly asked her question: "Are you sure you want to know?"
Taylor's eyes flashed with anger as she nodded assertively.
"Very well," Asima whispered. "Four major reasons. First, for the most part they're scared kids who don't really know how to fight and, perhaps most importantly, they don't know that they can fight and win. Not without the backing of a larger group like a gang or JROTC."
Taylor glared at the ground sullenly.
"Secondly," Asima continued, "from what they could tell you weren't doing anything to protect yourself. You didn't fight back, you didn't join a group to help defend you, and you didn't drop out to avoid them."
Taylor's eyes flashed up to Asima, enraged. "Are you blaming me for this?" she shouted angrily. "They're been attacking me without provocation! They've been spreading rumours about me for over a year! They're responsible!" Insects buzzed loudly as they slowly gathered nearby.
Asima nodded in easy agreement. "Yes, yes they are. They're definitely responsible for their own actions. You are not to blame for that at all. However, your inaction when it came to defending yourself discouraged others from coming to your aid. You'd defined the rules of engagement. On its own this wouldn't be a deal breaker, but this further discouraged people from stepping in to help you."
Taylor's eyes slipped to the side in silent apology as her insects quieted down and returned to their routines.
"Continuing on from my prior point... bullying is extremely common at Winslow High. There have been over a hundred notable bullying campaigns this year alone, though yours was the worst by a fair margin. For the most part, these were ended by joining a group that would defend them, fighting back hard enough to discourage further attacks, or dropping out entirely. My third point is tied to this... you didn't help any of them, either."
Taylor stared down at the ground shamefully.
"Finally, people have been helping you, or at least trying. I personally know of seven people who have stepped up to those bullying you and tried to make them stop, went to the administration to try to get them to put an end to it, or otherwise tried to make things better for you. Fifty seven people dropped out of Winslow High during January, four of them people I know who did it because of how you were treated. People do care about you, Taylor. If you look for it and reach out to them, too, I think you'll be a lot happier."
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Navrin
Experienced.
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Prior positive relationship without any betrayals (already committed or planned) plus shaker field (which might be literal magic) helping both parties with empathy, connecting with people, and a few other useful boons. (With informed consent, of course)
SwiftRosenthal
Connoisseur.
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From the looks of it, that might be explained in a section prior to the posted excerpt.
vyor
Oh that's cute
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True, not really enough to give far reaching criticisms.
SwiftRosenthal
Connoisseur.
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Queen of Blood was reposted at this forum. Early characterization was a bit... odd... at the beginning, but once things got moving it became much better.
TanaNari
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I ask this question a lot. To date, I've never been given any answer, let alone a good one.
vyor
Oh that's cute
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It's even stranger when the person acknowledges that it is one, so it would be easier to just create a new character than having to justify everything.
SwiftRosenthal
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Not every writer is equally skilled in every facet of writing: worldbuilding, plotting, characters, execution, technicals, etc. CINOs are a useful crutch for people who are shit at designing their own characters, just as stations of canon are a crutch for people who are shit at plotting and fanfiction itself is a crutch for people who are shit at worldbuilding.
...Not that the term CINO really means anything in the context of AUs and divergences - by far the most common types of Worm fic. A character who experiences a wholly different series of events than their story's canon will naturally develop in a different direction than they did in canon. This is just common sense. The scenario to watch out for is when a character at the start of an alleged single-divergence, or (yes) anywhere in a canon-compliant, fic is radically OOC. Otherwise, who cares.
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Heather_Sinclair
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I can't agree with this enough. I wish I could give more likes.
Just using Worm as an example: depending on when and how Taylor triggers should make her character vastly different. Yet people still, for some reason, whine that she's not the exact same character and should be dismissed as TINO. Something as simple as a different power could and should produce character trait tweaks to large OOC changes depending on what the new power is. It's the job of the writer to make the proper traits fall in line with whatever divergence is set.
Zackarix
Hera's Divorce Lawyer
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One possible reason is because a lot of readers react better to a CiNO than they do an OC. Mary Sue witchhunts have lead to a tendency for fanfic-reading audiences to tear apart OCs with the slightest provocation, while an OoC canon character is given a lot more slack, even if they've been changed up to the point that they're almost unrecognizable.
OverReactionGuy
The only Sane one left
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Pretty true there.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
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Fanfic-of-a-fanfic idea: How would Zach (from Amelia) have responded to a power that was derived from Lung, the way his Amelia-canon power seems to have been derived from Oni Lee? What sort of tactics would he use with it?
TanaNari
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WoG? In as much as that's possible?
Amelia!Zach triggered under a combination of long term stress, failure to protect those he loved, and immediate violence. He also has a certain level of self disgust that he hides behind humor. His power facilitated that self destructive nature.
Given the nature of Lung's shard to ramp up the power... chances are, instead of it being violence that spawns the power increase, it'd be damage. The more hits he takes, the stronger and tougher he'll become. That first fight he had with Hookwolf would have leveled the warehouse... and killed Hookwolf plus anyone else standing too close. The pyrokinetics likely would have been switched out for something like a speed boost, letting him get to melee range fast enough to stop his friends from being targets.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
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Huh. Kind of like Shield from Sidekick Girl (link goes to the first page, for those who haven't read it yet), just with a speed boost instead of an intelligence boost? Interesting.
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Lazurman
That Others May Fap
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I Wanna Have A Good Time (Worm SI)
Chapter 1
April 7, 2011
I saw them closing in on her, like sharks to a bleeding swimmer. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time I was in a position to do anything about it. And to be honest, it had taken me a long time to muster the will.
"And so, it begins," I muttered, steeling myself for social activity. Though, combat would probably be a better descriptor.
My book snapped shut and was zipped into my pack. My steps were quiet as I approached, but one of the lackies nudged the ringleader and pointed me out. The extras tried to circle the wagons, keep me out. Like it mattered.
A strange scene, it was. Eight girls, seven of them surrounding the one hunched in on herself with her back to a locker, preventing her from leaving. Three of them, one in particular, saying such awful things. My stomach churned a little, knowing the gist of what was being said. Me, now standing just outside the little huddle. An outsider with a black hoodie and a raggedy backpack, poking his nose where it wasn't wanted. But it was needed.
"Could you not?" I drawled.
The hangers-on attempted to get me to buzz off with petty insults. I ignored them. They didn't matter. They were nothing. No matter how much they liked to believe otherwise. I just stood there, eyes on the trio and the girl they had hemmed in, the girl who could stand so tall being brought ever lower by the sad thing that used to be her best friend. Due to my continued lack of buzzing off, Sophia Hess finally deigned to toss a glance my way. "Get lost, creep."
"Nope." Light. Cheery. Almost peppy.
That got a reaction out of her. This was new, a challenge to her perceived superiority. She butted her way out of the little circle. "The fuck did you say to me?'"
"Said, 'Nope,' Hess. I'd like you to stop." I paused, then added, "Please."
Just a few words, and I was already feeling tired. If I haven't made it perfectly clear by now, social activity wasn't exactly my strong suit, especially not heavy stuff like this. I'd much rather stick to cracking jokes and people-watching from the back of the room.
She got up in my face at that. I very carefully did not back down from the girl a good foot shorter than me.
"Or what?" she demands, jabbing a finger into my chest. Or what, indeed.
"Nothin'. It'd just make me happy if all o' ya went away and did somethin' else. Yer upsettin' me." If there was one thing above all others that people recognized about me, it was that I was always smiling. The one I was wearing now was my chill, lackadaisical one. My tone was jovial. Everything about my behavior screamed, in a word, 'carefree'. Good.
I honestly wanted to know if she would try to pull something here.
I'd always been tall, even as a high-schooler. And now, due to a bored god having nothing better to do, I found myself several years younger, reincarnated in a universe I'd known as fiction, as a student in quite literally one of the shittiest insults to institutions of education ever thought of. Winslow High sucked major monkey-nuts, in no small part due to the lovely example of how not the be a human being right in front of me.
My hands were tucked into my hoodie's front pocket. No tensed shoulders, no signs of hostility. Sophia was most likely better at hand-to-hand than me, but there was a sliding scale of skill vs. power, and I was willing to bet that my power edged out on her skill...and my Power definitely trumped hers as well. She was just an average-sized teenage girl, albeit an athletic one. I had more size, muscle mass, and a tad bit of basic experience to boot. I would not be the one to throw the first punch, all the same.
She scoffed, her gaze turning (dare I say it?) predatory at the defiance. I'd almost forgotten how much I hated teenagers, the mouth-noises they made. I hated these particular teenagers in particular.
No, that wasn't quite right. I pitied them. I knew that there were reasons for them being so fucked up. I didn't know the exact details of their pasts, only a summary of one. It didn't really matter. They were still horrible people, and I wasn't feeling too saint-like at the moment (and hopefully never, come to think of it.).
"I'm gonna ask you one more time, asshole. Get lost." She tried to shove me. My hand shot up to catch her wrist. The sheer shock that someone, me in particular, the quiet, sometimes snarky guy with his face always buried in a book, who never raised no trouble with nobody, would dare raise a hand against her, her, Sophia Hess, alpha bitch-queen of Winslow High, and probationary Ward, of all people, must have stunned her for a few precious milliseconds.
Before she could start fighting or, heaven forbid, screaming, I let go.
"Please don't touch me," I asked simply. "I don't like being touched by mean people."
Sophia didn't know how to react to this. To be fair, I didn't either. If I were a bully, and a motherfucker like me showed up and started being weird, spoiling my sport, how would I react? I hadn't the slightest clue.
I took my eyes off of Hess to make eye contact with the most important person in the hall. Taylor Hebert. Skitter. Weaver. Khepri. Goddess of Escalation. Bug Girl.
What I saw didn't quite fit any of those epithets. I saw a lonely teenage girl, with a lot more bad in her life than good, mostly due to these animals. Her mom died, her dad was only half there, her best friend turned into her biggest tormentor… And that wasn't even getting into the laundry list of shit that would come pouring from on high on the parahuman side of things.
…God damn it, Wildbow, did you really have to try that hard to screw with her?
I wanted to help, if I could, even though I knew so many things could go wrong. By interjecting myself into the story, the Simurgh's plot was derailed, and Zion would go crazy and kill everyone everywhere in two years. And if Taylor's life wasn't so shitty, the extremely unlikely series of events that would lead to Khepri stopping Golden Morning would most likely not come to pass.
Something told me I'd have my work cut out for me.
Eh, I'd just have to wing it. Just like everything else I'd ever done. Time to release some butterflies. Fly, my pretties, fly!
…This was an oddly long train of thought, wasn't it? Eh.
I gave Taylor a nod, a slight hint at my usual grin forming for the first time, and said, "Come along, miss. I'm getting the feeling we're not wanted, for some odd reason."
She had no reason to trust me. She'd probably been burned by this kind of thing before, the helping hand hiding the poisoned dagger supplied by her tormentors. But when offered the choice of sticking around for more abuse, and accepting aid from a stranger, she took a chance, and escaped through the gap left by Sophia.
Aside from an aborted attempt at a grab or two, the other girls watched her go, some of them looking confused at what just happened. Stopping at a corner, Taylor looked back at me, expression unreadable. I tossed a wink back in her direction, and she hurried off. Then I sighed and faced the now quite upset gaggle of bullies. I felt happy now. I did a good thing. Now to troll a bitch, kick over a few anthills, make my life interesting, and gtfo.
"Heh heh heh." I grinned toothily, dropping the creepy emotionless act. Emma Barnes seemed like she was about to say something, possibly threatening, but I cut her off by turning to Sophia. This one was for her in particular. Conflict, hooo!
I spread my jazz hands and shrugged, before saying in a jovial tone, "Welp, like I said, I can tell when I'm not wanted. Sorry for casting a shadow on your little hate-boner wank-fest. I'll get going now. No one likes a stalker, after all."
I even winked for emphasis, the visible eye suddenly glowing a vibrant shade of electric blue. The dawning look of horror and outrage on the Ward's face was exquisite. Then, in full view of the teenage girls, the E88 skinheads down the hall, the ABB initiates across from them, and generally all and sundry, I took a step back…
…and ended up right behind Taylor, two hallways away. I waited three seconds as I listened to the sudden uproar I'd left behind. Eh, always wanted to do that. Not like I cared much for a secret identity anyway.
Taylor had stopped, turning around to go see what the hubbub was about, only to see me there, casually leaning against a locker, waving lazily.
"You're welcome!"
Seeing her squeak and jump into the air a bit was funny, I'll admit it, shame on me again.
Step one of making Taylor Hebert's life not suck?
…It's a work in progress.
XXXXX
AN: So, uh, the muse decided to halp again. I let it. Shame on me.
Kinda rough, but that's what you guys are for, eh? What do you think?
Challenge: Figure out the crossover power. I'll give you another hint: the SI works at a hot dog stand in his free time.
*still has no idea what he's doing*
Chapter 1
April 7, 2011
I saw them closing in on her, like sharks to a bleeding swimmer. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was the first time I was in a position to do anything about it. And to be honest, it had taken me a long time to muster the will.
"And so, it begins," I muttered, steeling myself for social activity. Though, combat would probably be a better descriptor.
My book snapped shut and was zipped into my pack. My steps were quiet as I approached, but one of the lackies nudged the ringleader and pointed me out. The extras tried to circle the wagons, keep me out. Like it mattered.
A strange scene, it was. Eight girls, seven of them surrounding the one hunched in on herself with her back to a locker, preventing her from leaving. Three of them, one in particular, saying such awful things. My stomach churned a little, knowing the gist of what was being said. Me, now standing just outside the little huddle. An outsider with a black hoodie and a raggedy backpack, poking his nose where it wasn't wanted. But it was needed.
"Could you not?" I drawled.
The hangers-on attempted to get me to buzz off with petty insults. I ignored them. They didn't matter. They were nothing. No matter how much they liked to believe otherwise. I just stood there, eyes on the trio and the girl they had hemmed in, the girl who could stand so tall being brought ever lower by the sad thing that used to be her best friend. Due to my continued lack of buzzing off, Sophia Hess finally deigned to toss a glance my way. "Get lost, creep."
"Nope." Light. Cheery. Almost peppy.
That got a reaction out of her. This was new, a challenge to her perceived superiority. She butted her way out of the little circle. "The fuck did you say to me?'"
"Said, 'Nope,' Hess. I'd like you to stop." I paused, then added, "Please."
Just a few words, and I was already feeling tired. If I haven't made it perfectly clear by now, social activity wasn't exactly my strong suit, especially not heavy stuff like this. I'd much rather stick to cracking jokes and people-watching from the back of the room.
She got up in my face at that. I very carefully did not back down from the girl a good foot shorter than me.
"Or what?" she demands, jabbing a finger into my chest. Or what, indeed.
"Nothin'. It'd just make me happy if all o' ya went away and did somethin' else. Yer upsettin' me." If there was one thing above all others that people recognized about me, it was that I was always smiling. The one I was wearing now was my chill, lackadaisical one. My tone was jovial. Everything about my behavior screamed, in a word, 'carefree'. Good.
I honestly wanted to know if she would try to pull something here.
I'd always been tall, even as a high-schooler. And now, due to a bored god having nothing better to do, I found myself several years younger, reincarnated in a universe I'd known as fiction, as a student in quite literally one of the shittiest insults to institutions of education ever thought of. Winslow High sucked major monkey-nuts, in no small part due to the lovely example of how not the be a human being right in front of me.
My hands were tucked into my hoodie's front pocket. No tensed shoulders, no signs of hostility. Sophia was most likely better at hand-to-hand than me, but there was a sliding scale of skill vs. power, and I was willing to bet that my power edged out on her skill...and my Power definitely trumped hers as well. She was just an average-sized teenage girl, albeit an athletic one. I had more size, muscle mass, and a tad bit of basic experience to boot. I would not be the one to throw the first punch, all the same.
She scoffed, her gaze turning (dare I say it?) predatory at the defiance. I'd almost forgotten how much I hated teenagers, the mouth-noises they made. I hated these particular teenagers in particular.
No, that wasn't quite right. I pitied them. I knew that there were reasons for them being so fucked up. I didn't know the exact details of their pasts, only a summary of one. It didn't really matter. They were still horrible people, and I wasn't feeling too saint-like at the moment (and hopefully never, come to think of it.).
"I'm gonna ask you one more time, asshole. Get lost." She tried to shove me. My hand shot up to catch her wrist. The sheer shock that someone, me in particular, the quiet, sometimes snarky guy with his face always buried in a book, who never raised no trouble with nobody, would dare raise a hand against her, her, Sophia Hess, alpha bitch-queen of Winslow High, and probationary Ward, of all people, must have stunned her for a few precious milliseconds.
Before she could start fighting or, heaven forbid, screaming, I let go.
"Please don't touch me," I asked simply. "I don't like being touched by mean people."
Sophia didn't know how to react to this. To be fair, I didn't either. If I were a bully, and a motherfucker like me showed up and started being weird, spoiling my sport, how would I react? I hadn't the slightest clue.
I took my eyes off of Hess to make eye contact with the most important person in the hall. Taylor Hebert. Skitter. Weaver. Khepri. Goddess of Escalation. Bug Girl.
What I saw didn't quite fit any of those epithets. I saw a lonely teenage girl, with a lot more bad in her life than good, mostly due to these animals. Her mom died, her dad was only half there, her best friend turned into her biggest tormentor… And that wasn't even getting into the laundry list of shit that would come pouring from on high on the parahuman side of things.
…God damn it, Wildbow, did you really have to try that hard to screw with her?
I wanted to help, if I could, even though I knew so many things could go wrong. By interjecting myself into the story, the Simurgh's plot was derailed, and Zion would go crazy and kill everyone everywhere in two years. And if Taylor's life wasn't so shitty, the extremely unlikely series of events that would lead to Khepri stopping Golden Morning would most likely not come to pass.
Something told me I'd have my work cut out for me.
Eh, I'd just have to wing it. Just like everything else I'd ever done. Time to release some butterflies. Fly, my pretties, fly!
…This was an oddly long train of thought, wasn't it? Eh.
I gave Taylor a nod, a slight hint at my usual grin forming for the first time, and said, "Come along, miss. I'm getting the feeling we're not wanted, for some odd reason."
She had no reason to trust me. She'd probably been burned by this kind of thing before, the helping hand hiding the poisoned dagger supplied by her tormentors. But when offered the choice of sticking around for more abuse, and accepting aid from a stranger, she took a chance, and escaped through the gap left by Sophia.
Aside from an aborted attempt at a grab or two, the other girls watched her go, some of them looking confused at what just happened. Stopping at a corner, Taylor looked back at me, expression unreadable. I tossed a wink back in her direction, and she hurried off. Then I sighed and faced the now quite upset gaggle of bullies. I felt happy now. I did a good thing. Now to troll a bitch, kick over a few anthills, make my life interesting, and gtfo.
"Heh heh heh." I grinned toothily, dropping the creepy emotionless act. Emma Barnes seemed like she was about to say something, possibly threatening, but I cut her off by turning to Sophia. This one was for her in particular. Conflict, hooo!
I spread my jazz hands and shrugged, before saying in a jovial tone, "Welp, like I said, I can tell when I'm not wanted. Sorry for casting a shadow on your little hate-boner wank-fest. I'll get going now. No one likes a stalker, after all."
I even winked for emphasis, the visible eye suddenly glowing a vibrant shade of electric blue. The dawning look of horror and outrage on the Ward's face was exquisite. Then, in full view of the teenage girls, the E88 skinheads down the hall, the ABB initiates across from them, and generally all and sundry, I took a step back…
…and ended up right behind Taylor, two hallways away. I waited three seconds as I listened to the sudden uproar I'd left behind. Eh, always wanted to do that. Not like I cared much for a secret identity anyway.
Taylor had stopped, turning around to go see what the hubbub was about, only to see me there, casually leaning against a locker, waving lazily.
"You're welcome!"
Seeing her squeak and jump into the air a bit was funny, I'll admit it, shame on me again.
Step one of making Taylor Hebert's life not suck?
…It's a work in progress.
XXXXX
AN: So, uh, the muse decided to halp again. I let it. Shame on me.
Kinda rough, but that's what you guys are for, eh? What do you think?
Challenge: Figure out the crossover power. I'll give you another hint: the SI works at a hot dog stand in his free time.
*still has no idea what he's doing*
OverReactionGuy
The only Sane one left
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Sophia might be in for a bad time. But awesome start.
Lazurman
That Others May Fap
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Cape name's gonna be Calibri! No one will have a clue why. 
I'll put this in a thread of its own in a bit, once I've got another chapter.
Discuss! An SI with Sans' displayed powers vs the Wormverse! What are his ratings?
I'll put this in a thread of its own in a bit, once I've got another chapter.
Discuss! An SI with Sans' displayed powers vs the Wormverse! What are his ratings?
OverReactionGuy
The only Sane one left
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His threat ratings? Honestly don't know.
Mover definitely. Shaker most likely. Blaster? Probably. Determination? He has it.
Would you be able to take the soul of a human, since Sans probably could have done that, and well. Your ratings would jump through the roof if ya did that.
Then there is a thinker rating I think. Because you should be able to perceive things like when time resets... huh.
Sans power interaction with Coils is going to interesting.
TanaNari
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Displayed powers? The ability to kick the fourth wall in the nuts. At least a Thinker 3... mainly for being able to predict people based upon their tropes. Mover... I'd say 4... he unleashes some impressive barrage attacks.
But, fanwank aside, he really doesn't have any other powers, and apparently he tires pretty quickly. He does, ultimately, lose to a preteen. Granted, a preteen with infinite retries, but a preteen nonetheless. The Undertale lore makes it quite clear that ultimately, monsters are far weaker than humans.
Even our children are a real physical threat to their strongest warriors.
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Lazurman
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Mhmm. You have a valid point. Though I'm still not too sure that a centuries old spirit of murder is the best outlier.
And some things to consider:
Souls don't exist in the Wormverse. No special powerups, no special weaknesses.
Sans never had a lot of HoPe. I may depress easily, but even though I can see the man with the typewriter, I still have it.
And some things to consider:
Souls don't exist in the Wormverse. No special powerups, no special weaknesses.
Sans never had a lot of HoPe. I may depress easily, but even though I can see the man with the typewriter, I still have it.
TanaNari
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Likely not... but that's just a matter of skill and will... the physical form is still baseline human child. You put Bruce Lee's mind in the body of a seven year old and he's not going to be much of a threat to anyone except the schoolyard bullies.
OverReactionGuy
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Actually, I think the direct quote from Wilbow was that they didn't matter even if they did exist, and not that they didn't exist. So you could really go either way on that.
Btw, don't ask for a cite, I really do not want to go through that damn thread looking for a needle in a haystack.
vyor
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Ehhh... do remember that Chara was empowering Frisk for that time.
TanaNari
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True. Irrelevant, as aside "reload with memories", that grants no powers at all.
Remember, there was once an entire "equal to humans" population of monsters... and they couldn't manage to kill even a single human to get access to that soul-power enhancement. When you lose a war without even causing a single enemy casualty... that's when you KNOW the gap is insurmountable.
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