Xavante's page

"Not having a place to discuss politics does not make the subject go away. Political opinions and affiliations make up a large portion of peoples' personalities and inform their actions in many ways.

The ban on political threads has basically just put a lid on a kettle. That water is still boiling, and increasingly it's been seeping around the sides of the lid and taking over threads it has no business to."

― Sundakan

PENGUIN...!!!!

"[A]ncient cat people are called Nyanderthals...."

― "Minerva Vexx", City of Heroes player

230. Fer' the next 24 hours after drinkin' the scurvy hoodoo-grog, ye be stuck talkin' like a pirate!!! HAAARRRRR-HARR-HARR-HARR-HAAAAAAAARR!!!

"In order to attain the impossible, one must attempt the absurd.”

― Miguel de Cervantes

My favorite LUCY is the one and only whom I Love - and all the moreso for giving us STAR TREK!

My favorite HUGH is the shrapnel-blasting toughguy-wiseguy from, again, Malibu Comics' The Strangers (who, as fate would have it, was looking and acting like Goth Guru's favorite Hugh the better part of a decade before the latter's X-Men debut)!

My favorite AL is the one and only Person Of The 20th Century (talk about a competitive field)!!!

My favorite JULIAN is....

"Theeerrre she iiiiis...Miss Basketball™...!"

"True power is re-writing reality, with puns so bad they literally hurt! SQUAAACK!"

TRUENAME PUN MAGIC, B%*&#ES!!!

Everyone Just Says Something That Rhymes with 'Bucket'

See my character sheet?

I YAM A PROFESSIONAL, PAL!!!

*Panter Flauclaws is promptly struck by a bullet-velocity sweet potato*

Because it makes one week!

Lalar...?

*looks at dice suspiciously, starts chewing on them before they leap from his beak of their own accord*: 1d118 ⇒ 35 = Terra Curse of the Forest!

I think I've heard of her: Terra CUT-HER, right?

*At the utterance of the parrot's horrific pun, Terra's skin/bark/leaves/shell/dirt layers/petals/whatever she's got immediately begin to slough off her layer by layer; there is a long chase around the forest involving a lot of lethal magical sass, supplemented by the ocassional bushwhacking, deadfalling, tossing of rocks, sticks, and vials of alchemical weapons, and a couple of NASTY parrot-bites; eventually Xavante emerges from the forest victorious, its "Curse" seemingly broken*

T-th-the-That's All, Folks! *steals some nuts and fruits from Malvel's table, then flies away*

¡Camarónes Luchador Mutante Adolescente CONTRA El Tesorero Loco!

Pulg was assistant-double-blind-backup-lead choreographer for an action-intrigue-comedy flick about a band of elite all-Orthodox-Jew mercenaries: "You Can't Afford to Payois".

Partylf Sunev was promoted to salad by a vengeful Rick Moranis.

KahnyaGnorc knows this because she winters in a luxury condo in a Bag of Holding stuffed up the Count's butt!

SQCRAAAAWWWWK!!!

Hey Sharky! Aren't you TIRED of bean curd?

*suddenly and from out of nowhere, a thick rubber tire rumbles across the floor and across Chompy's snout, leaving a thick print behind as it rolls away*

*hahahahahaha*

Anyone got any nuts or fruit?

Let me help get you started: Xavante is an exceptionally intelligent, but otherwise normal, hyacinth macaw who has learned not only Truename Magic, but the infamously difficult and rare subschool thereof of 'pun magic'!

My favorite BARRY is Dave Barry!

My favorite GERALD (who is not better known as Jerry) is Gerald Gardner (who, I will not lie, I had to look up)!

My favorite MARY is Maria Montessori!

My favorite LUCY is....

BOOOO! You 'SUCK!'

*Un-Bear-able Puns is suddenly caught in a vortex of air*

But not everybody can do PUN MAGIC!

Nope. Just some loquats.

*dives in, rips out Vidmaster7's liver*

Hope you didn't 'grow' too attached to it! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

*flies off as Vidmaster7's liver slowly begins regrowing, eats it with loquats*

*stares at Vidmaster7 while eating*

Hmm...now I want some nuts, too....

*eyes Vidmaster7's liver from afar*

Sliska Zafir was promoted because it's good at keeping an eye on things.

You must run behind a car until you're EXHAUSTED, and run in front of a car until you get TIRED! *SQUAWK!*

The next poster will tell us what happened to Uncle Teddy!

Ch-Ch-Ch-CHIA!!!

My favorite CANDACE is Candy AKA "Electrocute" from Malibu Comics' The Strangers!

My favorite MALCOLM is obviously Malcolm the Jester!

My favorite DAVID is the one who's not here, man!

My favorite SIMON is....

*nudges thread with beak*

*SQUAWK!* Come on folks, step right up! Don't be shy...!

Floccinaucinihilipilification
Is what you do if you're the sort of chap
Who can't accept that anything popular might be any good
And dismisses it out of hand as "Total crap."
"It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing,"
Is what you really mean,
But that's repetitive and a bore to say
While floccinaucinihilipilification
Is a simple and most economical way.

Floccinaucinihilipilification
Is the longest English word in common use.
Antidisestablishmentarians just feel torn apart
When they hear it, and they may well hurl abuse.
It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing,
But Mary Poppins fans
Truly hate it and may offer a foul rebuke
'Cause floccinaucinihilipilification is a real word
Unlike supercalifragi-gobbledigook!
Unlike supercalifragi-gobbledigook!

Xavante flaps down onto Wilbert's head.

"Peachy." Xavante tightens his grip on Wilbert's head and gives his wings another firm flap. "Giddyap!"

Ride: 1d20 ⇒ 16

I just want you to know that I'm not out of the game - the world just seems to be falling apart right now, so expect impeded performance for the time being.

For perspective, I've been playing another game on here for several years now, and for reasons to do by turns with one player or another or the DM himself (bless his heart) it's paced SLOW AS MOLASSES. We still keep going and keep track, though.

Now hold on! I hadn't given up, I was just having issues in the Land of the (Just Barely) Living, and in the past little while couldn't think of anything to contribute (but mainly the former).

Molten Dragon never metamorphic rock he didn't like.

*CLUCK!* Xavante the Truenamer here! This game is all about names - and who you think wears them best! Here's how it works:

A (first) name is given by the previous player, to the next player who fills in the rest of the name to name a specific individual (historical, fictional, or otherwise) who is their favorite bearer of that name (or as near as they can find to their favorite, as the case may be). Slight variations on the name are acceptable. Explaining why is optional, and I'd actually try to avoid it unless it's really worth it and you can keep it short - but including links that describe the person you chose IS encouraged. We'll start with a bit of a backlog, so each poster will actually wind up responding to 3 names per post, in addition to leaving a 4th new one to the next poster. Try hard not to pick individuals already picked, don't be screwy with rare names you're pretty sure nobody can attach very many individuals to, and while it doesn't have to be funny, more power to you if it somehow is!

Example:

PLAYER 1:

My favorite IVO is...Dr. Ivo Robotnik!
My favorite KATHERINE is...Katherine Alice Applegate!
My favorite STIRLING is...Stirling Silliphant!

My favorite ADOLPH is...

PLAYER 2:

My favorite KATHERINE is...Catherine Ironfist!
My favorite STIRLING is...Stirling Colgate!
My favorite ADOLPH is...Adolph Marx!

My favorite ZLATA is...

*end sample*

Now, to begin!

My favorite IVAN is...

My favorite CANDACE is...

My favorite MALCOLM is...

Xavante's head bobs up from out of a sack of nuts high on one of the granary's shelves, and he looks at Wil.

"*cluck* *CRACK!* *munchmunchmunch* Get a clue, Wil you?"

Truespeak universal aptitude on Wil, DC 21: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 18 +3 Comedy bonus = 21
Comedy: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (13) + 16 = 29

Wil, you get +5 to all skill checks for the next minute exactly!

Xavante's head whips 180 degrees about to give Gregor the same intense, beady stare he'd previously been pointing in the other direction, cranes his neck out until his beak is millimeters away from Gregor's nose and Gregor can smell his warm, savory-sweet parrot-breath, and softly says, *Lair.* L-A-I-R. *Lair.*

Truenamer, parrot, and smartest character in the party by a wide margin, what are you gonna do? :)

That attended to, Xavante returns to his former posture and looking out the window. "They're called 'FLUE' hags because that's where they most often roost - attics and basements, too. They're strongly nocturnal. It's not like the sun turns them to ash or anything (after all, they're mostly ash as is in their natural state), but from what I know, they hunt at night, and are keen to retreat come the dawn...so, if we're going to look for them by day, that's when we search the attics, basements, and chimneys andyoudamnwellbetterallberightthereontheroofordownintheparlorifyouexpectmet oplaychimneysweep, OR we could hunt them at night when they'll be out and about, which could actually have its own advantages - it might be easier than hunting them out in their day-roosts, although the advantage of doing that is that we'd catch them alone. Probably."

Xavante stares out the window with one side of his face, a rather intense look in his beady eye (that actually isn't that different from normal).

"Somebody keep track of 'Pocketful of Posies' out there...."

Careful not to reveal too much of what goes on backstage, DM. We'll trust you - and hopefully it would go without saying that alternatives to combat would still grant experience. :)

Xavante looks back into the kitchen.

"*SQUAWK!* Fruit waffles look too much like somebody's face for you to make 'em now, or what?"

"Their natural habitats are the cities of fire and stone and metal, like this one (although this is sparse habitat for their preferences); if there's a flue hag here, she's probably always been here. They can look like any anthropoid folk they want, but what they really look like is something like if you took an old Human female, stretched her out like clay until she was twice as tall and little more than half as stout, burned off all her hair, then burned her some more until her skin was nothing but parched black coal - except for her teeth, which are big and red-hot, like the tips of hearth-pokers. The only part of them that anyone would think is pretty is their talons, which they have at the end of all four limbs, and even those are kind of short and shriveled for their size - but they can still hurt. Like I said, they're strong - not as strong as Fisty, or as a great ape, and a few of the folks I saw at the dock might be stronger than they are, but stronger than most anybody else their size. More than that, though, they're really *cluck* quick and limber - even the clumsiest of their kind could be circus acrobats. They can also burp up big clouds of smoke and ash - it won't kill you, but it's not good for you, and they don't mind it themselves, and other hags don't mind it either, and they'll use it to keep tearing you apart and eating you alive, so watch out for it. Of course, their most dangerous power is, for want of a better term, bad luck - get too close to them, and everything will just start going wrong. The good news, though, is that it doesn't always happen, and it doesn't last forever. Their curse, like all curses, is a disease of the soul, so powerful souls don't get cursed so easily. It's like standing near a stinky rotting corpse - you might not get sick, and if you don't, then you might become resistant, but keeping a distance is the best way to be sure. The other thing to worry about is if there's a coven, not just one - the more their are, the stronger their curse gets."

Xavante looks across the room of bewildered people.

"As a matter of fact, I don't think a single flue hag could possibly do all this with just her birthright powers. Their curse is mainly for bringing down prey, really. This is...so much more."

So now you're starting to see a bit of Xavante's background. Abridged version:

- several years as a happy wild parrot (and freakish prodigy); Xavante is given name among his own people

- captured by humans, bought by "Bad Keeper," some kind of Evil mage - a genteel Evil, not a total abusive emotional-rapist, but not good and not nice; lives only about 2 years with him, taught a language or two (strictly for Keeper's amusement, or so Keeper thinks), gets into Keeper's books and learns to read, learns (by observation) a few things about magic, and a lot about Human ways

- somehow changes hands to Good Keeper, a Truenamer who heals his inner wounds from the last guy, treats him to the better sides of civilization (including lots more to read!), recognizes Xavante's potential, and teaches him Truename Magic (but Xavante figures out the advanced art of Punspeaking on his own!); Xavante lives with him for 3-4 years until he is offered to be taken home - but now he wants ADVENTURE! He boards a ship north, and the rest is history.

Knowledge (Nature): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

"One time, when my old keeper - the bad one - brought one of his lady friends home for dinner, they started to play cards, and whenever one of them lost, they'd molt some clothing. He was very good at cards, and she kept losing, and had molted almost everything when suddenly she wanted to try gambling with him a different way: She bet him that she couldn't bite her own eye. The arrogant dummy agreed because he figured that was impossible...but then she took her own eye out of its socket and, well, put it in her maw and bit it. Gently. It became kind of ugly-shiny-gray for a second, and then she put it back in. She won that bet, but said she didn't want anything from him for it...but then they started playing cards again, and after that, *cluck*, interlude, he lost every game...and then he was totally plucked, but she insisted they keep playing, and he was STILL losing, so she made him peel big bits of his skin off until, well, he'd had enough of THAT and they fought to the death. My keeper won, of course, but not easily; she knew some magic, too - and was VERY strong. I had mixed feelings about all that. My bad keeper was bad...but she might very well have been worse."

"Wait. You recognized Old Mel somehow...."

Xavante turns and looks toward the kitchen.

"Fruit waffles." *bobs head a few times*

Fruit waffles! Now!

Xavante (who spent last night sleeping in a tree, like a normal person), flies in the window with the morning light.

"Fruit waffles, kumquat water, and a side of cliffside clay, please!"

"..."

"What's everybody staring at? It's breakfast-time!"

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18

"...What's wrong?"

Sorry I'm lagging. I haven't "left," I'm just not feeling great.

"You can keep him...away from me! Ugliest grubs I've ever seen...and I once ate a cicada chrysalis because it was dark and I thought it was a nut!"

Xavante ponders the strange ways of anthropoids for a moment.

"Maybe the local Sewer-Worker's Guild takes foundlings?"

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11

I appreciated everyone's attempts to make characters they enjoyed, but the last recruitment thread got very close to going from comedy fun to cybersex and I'd prefer to not have to deal with that again.

He protests now, but he's the one who gave the go-ahead to Boob-Hunter the Bard and the Hentai Centerfold...;)

Xav, you still sitting on my shoulder?

Well, I suppose I was....

Xavante makes a gagging noise as he flutters back onto Dr. Fisty's head (because there is such thing as "too much shoulder").

Maybe now we want to hunt for a replacement or two?