tad cooper's biggest fan

AFFILIATED WITH FSL

[dickieking-blog]

inherlikeness:

The man changed gears on a dime, and the crown was tossed aside without a second thought. Norman didn’t know what common core was, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with the current situation or his own alleged intellect. Mostly it just reinforced the notion that this guy was a bit nuts. Where did he get a crown, anyway?

“I’ll be sure to do that. Maybe you should become king and pass a law about it.” He had no desire to see what would happen if anyone had that much power, here, but he couldn’t help but be curious to see the man’s response. “I don’t think there’s much of a government here anyway. You wouldn’t exactly have competition.”

Crowns didn’t make kings, though, and neither did sudden self-declaration. It was an entertaining notion nevertheless.

“No, we tried that once,” he recalls, thinking back to the time when all the peasantry banded together and tore down his beloved castle. “We put it to a vote, reinstating me as king. No one wanted me in office, so! it’ll be some time before I run again, if ever.” If he’s going to be honest with himself, he doesn’t really want to be king of Utopia. He wasn’t a very kind person as king. He makes a far better hero, in fact, when he’s fighting for true love.

“Maybe you should become king instead!” There’s neither sarcasm nor malice behind his suggestion, only pure childlike wonder. “You’d make a good king, or a prince at the very least. There’s rules on how tall one must be before ascending to the throne. I wonder if I can find you a copy...”

[dickieking-blog]

luscinus:

     Her Master being human isn’t much of surprise, something she assumed would be the case anyway. She can make this work in her favor, having dealt with humans most of her life. The fact that he seems prepared to speak to her is both interesting and beneficial. That means they can get right to important topics of conversation. She can have a cup of tea and a sandwich if need be to curry the flavor so to speak. Her tolerance for human food as always been higher than other’s after all.

     “Not Poopy Longstocking then,” she reassures, though she raises a questioning brow. There is a story behind that one obviously. Eto takes the seat across from him, hands folded atop the table as she continues. “this is just an entirely new sort of situation I’m in. Referring to someone I just met as Master is a bit odd for me. I can do so for formalities sake in the presence of others if need be.” Identities must be protected here after all, to some extent anyway. 

     “I’ve gone by lots of things in my lifetime,” she begins finger tapping against her chin in thought. Names are peculiar sort of things, being a ghoul automatically means you have more than one for the sake of survival. “Here, I am dubbed Archer if you’d prefer to be traditional. Sen was a penname I went under for about thirteen years since I was an author and valued my privacy. I was also called X in my youth and Owl in my adulthood. So really, the choice is yours.”

As much as he enjoys being the one to have the final say, the circumstances under which he’s been granted this right feel all... off. They say he was chosen by divine intervention, that his bloodline is royal and therefore all should bow down before him. But Richard has abandoned that line of thought: All for the wholesome quest of true love. (He is humble about this fact, however, because lord knows how all these strangers would delight and feast upon him for so innocent a quest.)

So when his Servant tells him to choose her name, he catches himself frowning at the notion and hesitates. Following tradition seems the easiest course of action - the least likely to drawn offense - so he answers with a solemn, “I suppose Archer will do.”

He helps himself to more tea and mulls. He mulls and he contemplates and he heaves a sigh. “So then, Archer, what do you intend to make of this new home of ours? I’m still doing a bit of... soul-searching, myself.” What he really means to do is ask after her goals and ambitions, things he’s at a loss for now that there’s no evil wizard to beat the stuffing out of.

[dickieking-blog]

leylinemage:

“Is that an innuendo?” She squinted at him with honestly no idea. The fool seemed to be pretty entranced with one of her polished stone scraps.

They cared more about where they could store it then what it could cut. Well convenience could be a fine selling point. “It can fell a small tree, yes. If that is what you mean…” Again, she doubted that’s what he meant. Much more likely he was a type of oaf who went around rudely planting his sword in stumps. Then probably kneeling on the stumps and posing like an asshole.

“But what if there is no stump about? Can your sword be stored in the Earth?” Mushia tilted the blade into the dirt where it slid in all the way without much force on her part. “There is no shortage of ground beneath us, while stumps are harder to come by.”

“You know, I hadn’t thought about that. Actually, I think I pulled this sword out of a rock. The edge wasn’t blunted by the act, of either stabbing or pulling out.” If any of this came across as an innuendo, then that was all in Mushia’s own imagination; Richard himself is far too literal-minded to reflect that deeply upon his words. “So I guess my question is, can your swords go through solid rock without losing their edge?” Because, in all honesty, he had no other metric by which to measure his fabled sword against her craftsmanship.

[dickieking-blog]

reyvateilorigin:

“It does?!” A fountain? Granting wishes? She’s never heard of that before. She was the one who was supposed to do that. Who in their right mind let fountains, of all things, become that powerful? “… A scam? Wait, it doesn’t?” Make up your mind! Shurelia had to see this for herself. Ignoring his demands for her to stay back, she moved up to the fountain in question. …. Wow, that was a lot of SSR. Who was the idiot who wasted it all?

“Who needs wishes, with all this money sitting here?” She dipped her hand into the pool, fishing out a few of the coins. “You could probably use this to just get your wish, no magical fountain needed.”

Oh gods, she had a point, didn’t she? If the fountain’s busted, he might as well fish out his coin!

“Um, if you’d be so kind... would you perhaps help me... get my money?” He gestures towards the fountain. “I don’t like it when my fingers get all wrinkly.”

A beat. “Oh, and that’s, ahem, mine, what you’re holding.” It’s him. He’s the idiot who wasted all his money.

[dickieking-blog]

casterofturnabout:

(…Is he ignoring me? For nails?!) Phoenix had to admit, that seemed pretty insulting to him. Thankfully, Richard quickly looked back at him, making it so the bad impression didn’t last long.

Then, Phoenix’s anger gave place to realization, then pity. He puts a hand over the king’s - or rather, the ex-king’s - shoulder and looks at him with sympathetic eyes. “Well, there’s no need for such. The voice did say that our beloved ones are actually safe somewhere else! We just need to have faith that they’ll soon join us. I’m sorry for your world, though.”

Perhaps knowing that at least his people were still alive would alleviate Richard’s heart. “Besides, can we even be sure that things went exactly as they told us? For all I know, this could all be a huge farce.”

“Gareth’s alive?” His dear childhood friend, alive and well? Truly?

His heart sings.

Richard clasps a hand over his chest as he raises the other to nudge aside the stranger’s comfort. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. He gives a curt nod, indicating that he is listening. He just. He needs a moment.

“If it is one big lie...” he trails off in thought. “Wouldn’t they have done something with us by now? They only lie to prisoners, criminals, bad people sorts. You and I, we’re good people, aren’t we?”

[dickieking-blog]

luscinus:

@dickieking​

     Eto is a woman of many titles, has been alive and fought enough to gain rankings that no one in her world has reached. She fought for her power and station with every ounce of blood and sweat her body had to offer. There is a well-deserved pride that she holds in herself, having held onto being leader of the Aogiri Tree as long as she has been no easy feat. Here though, here she still has her power, but she is no leader. Servant, she was deemed. A warrior chosen to fight to protect her Master. What a laughable situation she has found herself in, possibly having to defer to someone weaker than she. Having to protect someone she has never met is troublesome but necessary. 

As irksome the bond between Master and Servant is, it is a useful tool for locating said Master. Of course, it leads her right to the shared house that they have, the very place she’s been avoiding going since arriving. This is a meeting that would have happened eventually, and her expectations aren’t high, so she can’t possibly be disappointed in what she sees. In the midst of toeing off her shoes once she enters the house, that’s when she spots him. Doing what, she doesn’t know and doesn’t care to find out. 

“You must be my Master.” She says pleasantly, not wanting to seem rude despite her dislike of the situation. She’s played pretend before, has done it for a majority of her life. It won’t be much to do so again. “I’m not going to call you that. I hope you don’t mind.”

She’s caught him in the midst of afternoon tea, complete with delicate sandwiches and an untouched setting; he had intended to share, if and when his Servant chose to reveal themselves. And while she hasn’t a mind for the title, he sees no reason to doubt her interest in a drink shared between bondmates. (Hmm. ‘Bondmates’. That sounds a touch too intimate for the relationship - or lack thereof - they share. He’ll have to work on that.)

“Mm. A Servant who isn’t a servant, and a Master who isn’t a master. What a fine pair we make.” He sets his cup down and turns to look at her. Why, she seems normal enough, normal to the point of not being much of a warrior. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Worried, fretful, confused... He can’t send some skinny girl off to fight in his honor! No, no, she should stay away from all that mess and fuss. The two of them can hide away in their cute little apartment until all this ‘save the world’ nonsense blows over.

“Quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn what you call me, as long as it’s not ‘Poopy Longstocking’. I’m fine with ‘clod’ or ‘you roguish devil’, I’ve got them both before.”

He smiles, a touch too forced to be sincere. “So what do I call you?”

[dickieking-blog]

maximumhaltmann:

Haltmann was too busy winning over the public to notice Richard’s attempted assault. The rock makes a decent-sized dent in the side and sends him spinning around in mid-air.

“How dare you! I’ll have you tried for this, you!” And remembering that he’s a public figure, he adds, “Do you see how he treats my property, everyone? Your ‘king’ is no more than a reckless vandal!”

“A thousand SSR to any man, woman, or child who brings this stone-throwing menace to justice!”

“Did you just put a bounty on my head?!” he shrieks, throwing his hands in the air. How dare that insolent purple sphere do such a thing! Why, if Tad Cooper was his full size, he’d unleash pure dragon fury upon it!

A handful of opportunists, piqued by Haltmann’s offer, start to encroach upon Richard’s personal space. “Hey now, that man is a thief! No? No dice?” Fine then! He draws his sword and waves it around, making it clear that his technique is quite rusty.

“Curse you, tubby purple thing!”

[cann21]

[mementobellum-blog]

I’ll be focusing on event threads for the duration of the event! (If you’d like me to reply to something we began before the event, please let me know via IM or Twitter!) This applies across the board for all my blogs: Solas (rebellaveram) | Ezekiel (invalescam) | Julian (arquemie) | Richard (dickieking)

[dickieking-blog]

maximumhaltmann:

“Ahem! You there! If you value your wallet, then you’ll pay no attention to this blathering fool.” Haltmann was addressing a passer-by who made up his impromptu audience. “He has no intention of surrendering the fees that you struggling workers so rightly deserve.”

“I, the illustrious and noble Haltmann, offer a whopping two SSR for every fragment delivered to me. That is double his paltry reward, and a staggering 100% increase, to boot.”

He sat there smugly on his golden throne. How could he possibly be toppled now?

No, this is simply inconceivable! That giant purple rotund thing just stole his amazing incredible on-its-way-to-being-patented idea!

In a fit of rage and exercise of protest, Richard hauls ass towards the strange creature and chucks a sizable rock at its giant floating throne.

“You! Tubby! Come down here and fight me for that idea like a real man!” He raises his dukes, rolls his fists, and makes himself look as threatening as possible, never mind the lace and gold trim.

[dickieking-blog]

“It’s a lot of money they’re offering, but I’d also rather not run back and forth through the city. That’s just so much work. If only there was someone you could hire to collect fragments for you...”

“Huh. For every fragment delivered in my name, that brave soul shall get one SSR. That way, when I win...! Oh, Richard, you’re good.”

[dickieking-blog]

leylinemage:

“You’re some kind of moron, aren’t you?” Muchia cocked her head at them quizzically. “Well, do not concern yourself with that then.” Yes, she didn’t want him to be thinking of any concept higher then buying her art.

She reached for one of the swords at near her lap, carved out of smooth obsidian rock. The face of the stone flashed bright with the sun as she twisted it in her hand before offering it up to him.

“A blade, one of my finest works. Perfectly balanced, diamond polished edge, the finish of a mirror with the edge of a titanium razor.” It was one of her nicer ones but she was really just spouting nonsense to catch the dullard’s ear. If they could toss away their crown so easily then the attachment to the blade already at their hilt couldn’t have been too great. “1000 SRR, but I can be persuaded to bargain. Care to test my stone against your toothpick?” 

The insult flies right over his head, figuratively speaking. He’s too busy browsing her knick-knacks to give much attention to what she’s saying. Richard grabs the tiniest, most delicate piece he can find, and turns it ‘round and ‘round as if the angle would give the object new meaning.

Oh no, the woman’s talking to him again. He sets the orb down and squints at the blade.

“Hmm... I don’t know. My sword can be safely stored in a stump. Can yours go in a stump? Is there anything that keeps it from being pulled out of said stump, assuming it goes in all the way?”

[dickieking-blog]

inherlikeness:

The man shrugged him off at first, physically shrugged, and then laughed after a few moments as though something clicked in his head. Baffling. The way he spoke of himself, one would think he was a real king, and the crown lent weight to the claim…but his demeanor made Norman rather doubtful. He’d never met a king before, but…

“It doesn’t make me a king any more than it does you, then, does it?” No, he’s not annoyed about being treated like a little child by a stranger, what are you talking about? He is practically 12, though. That’s mostly grown. Grown enough for his caretakers, certainly. Regardless of that, he looked at the crown more closely. “Couldn’t you sell it? Money would be more helpful than a shiny paperweight.”

“You’re right, it won’t earn you any respect, just like me!” he agrees, quick to dismiss his own idea as wrong. The crown’s no good for either him nor the boy. Maybe some stray dog can use it as a chew toy. “It must be that common core math stuff they’re teaching these days. You kids are so bright.”

Beyond that, though, Richard has little means to relate to this young man. He could certainly hand him Excalibur and let the kid give it a few swings, but apparently children and sharp objects don’t go hand in hand. If only Gareth was around. Gareth was like Google or Siri.

He throws a look over his shoulder at the discarded crown, then makes a face. Teeth bared in disgust, he glances at Norman and shakes his head. “Nah, no one’s gonna want that old thing now. It’s probably got some sort of venereal disease from coming into contact with the ground... Always practice safe strolling - wear socks, lace your boots, that sort of thing.”

[dickieking-blog]

casterofturnabout:

Can’t blame you for being confused by the message, Richard. It’s so much info that I’m surprised that people’s heads don’t explode by arrival. What I can blame you for is pulling a poor guy’s hair out of nowhere like that. How can’t anyone see that it’s just hair?

“OUUUUCH!!” Phoenix shouts in pain, for Richard isn’t the least bit delicate with his touch. “Lemme go of me, you-” He then looks at the other and notices his fancy, yet downright medieval clothing style. And that crown…

“A-A king?!” (Just what was missing from this city…)

Richard picks at his nails, fascinated by the dirt under them. He registers the man’s yelp a second later and peers back up. “No, no. I’m no king. Not without my kingdom.” He wiggles his fingers in some vague approximation of his destroyed homeland and lets out a dramatic sigh. “The little voice inside my head told me it got blown up, along with all my loved ones. I’m in the midst of my grieving process, you see. I always wanted to see how soft Galavant’s hair was. Just one touch. Yours isn’t like I imagined his to be.”

[dickieking-blog]

leylinemage:

Mushia blinked very slowly. “It’s a silk sash, made of far finer material then the dull pyrite collar that chokes your skull.” Did he see himself as some sort of king with that awful looking crown? Well even a complete jackass with no sense of style had every right to purchase her stonework. 

“I know very well what is ‘in fashion’ is, dolt. This is a traditional gown, as I am surrounded by the traditional art of my bloodline. It’s called fitting the atmosphere.” Sitting on the ground she was surrounded by carved masterpieces. Mostly shitty stone swords but some nice plates, pots, and sculptures as well. 

“Anything that strikes your fancy? I don’t usually do gaudy but I can take requests.”

Shocked by her accusation, Richard throws his hands up to his head and removes his crown. He flips it over and over, and over and over for good measure. As he turns the headpiece around, he realizes belatedly that he hasn’t a clue what constitutes real gold versus pyrite - let alone which is better. “No wonder Kingsley left the throne to me. He knew it was a fake all along, didn’t he? That bastard...”

Oh well. Richard sighs and chucks the crown into some alleyway, just like that. For continuity’s sake, we all know it’s going to wind up on his head in an hour or so, by way of a crown-bearing stork or whatever the GRAIL sees fit.

“Fitting the atmosphere... No idea what that means, but I sure do like the sound of it. Sign me up!”

He peers at her wares and taps his chin. Again, he doesn’t know what to choose.

“Well, what would you recommend for a first-timer?”

[dickieking-blog]

“You, fine sir, have a marvelous goatee. Could I get the name of your stylist? My beard’s starting to get a bit... grisly.”

@burakkuhoku

[dickieking-blog]

“So, what you’re trying to tell me is...” Richard trails off, mulling over the NPC shopkeeper’s words as he continues to bite into his pilfered apple. It had looked so red and juicy and he could have swore it screamed at him ‘eat me!’ in a voice not unlike that of the so-called Messengers. Or maybe he hallucinated that. Either way, this is one good apple! “Is that ‘stealing’ is a crime in this era and that I’m a criminal.”

The shopkeeper threatens to call the authorities to which Richard guffaws. “Now, now. No need for violence. I was merely sampling this delectable fruit. See over there? You’ve those nasty breadsticks to try, the ones with the cute little sign with the twigs and the smiley faces and the giant human teeth ‘om nom nom’, that thing.

“I’m simply applying the same principle--” he lets out a gasp as the NPC knocks the apple out of his hands. “Shame on you for wasting food, someone could have bought that from me!”

@theifforhire