#g0dtier

[callmearcturus]

@g0dtier replied to your post “I just spent a fucking hour and a half tidying up...”:

what the hell is that call sign on your screen? like a discord mod or smth?

🚨🚨someone hasn't played Paradise Killer!!!🚨🚨

[myhoneybree]

g0dtier replied to your photo: excuse u

okAY IM LAUGHING HARDER THEN I BE SHOULD NOW

guys i can't handle lauren she's too adorable

[automatonarisen-blog]

> Exhaust.

You've been going almost nonstop for the better part of three days now. This is not a good thing. Your eagerness to get back has been costing you sleep. 

You tell yourself you need more rest, but everytime you stop you are too restless to drift off to sleep unless you've completely exhausted yourself first. Really, your whole journey so far has been an exercise in not thinking about how much your friends would be worried about you.

You are still annoyed with yourself for not telling anyone else you were going, but you thought you'd have plenty of time to Tumbl. And you do. You just don't have a means to connect to the internet. Every night you try again to pull the glasses from your sylladex, and every night the spirits deny you. Why did you ever decide on this particular fetch modus? Fitting or not it's still a hassle.

You haven't been taking very good care of your other essentials either, but that's not your fault. You just don't have enough food to keep yourself running properly, and though you've been eating less than you need and trying to ration it, it's still a shocking moment when you run out altogether. 

At least you have plenty of water. It's been raining a lot lately, and while slogging through mud is neither pleasant nor easy, you have managed to collect enough rain water of dubious purity to keep yourself going.

[automatonarisen-blog]

> Examine.

Before you do anything else, it's probably a good idea to take stock of exactly what state you're in. 

Physically, you're doing pretty well at the moment. The healing potion really seems to have done its job. Even your wings are... well. They're not hurting anymore. The edges of the tears seem to have closed up. 

It should be obvious that you cannot fly now, with at least 80% of your wings literally ripped off, but that doesn't stop you from trying. Afterall, it's not as if it made logical sense for them to hold you up in the air in the first place, right?

You stand still for a moment before straining, trying to lift up off the ground. And you do, but you know instantly its not the work of your wings. You've lifted yourself with psionics without even thinking about it. 

And while your powers are great for navigating around particular areas, they're far too draining to use over long distances. 

And speaking of navigating, you realize that could become a problem. You know that Eridan's hive, and the ocean, lay to the west, and if you were airborne you'd probably recognize particular landmarks, but groundbound you only know the general direction.

You could end up leagues off course without even knowing it, since one stretch of beach looks about the same as any other. And how would you even get from the beach to the island? You are not a strong swimmer, and now that you can't fly...

But you'll cross that bridge when you come to it. (Actually, a bridge would make everything much easier.)

In the meantime, do you have enough supplies? You'd only packed enough food for three days, the amount of time you'd expected to be gone. (Sigh. Note to self: next time, be prepared for any situation). You could probably make them last a bit longer than that with rationing. But you'd need quite a bit more fuel to sustain yourself over ground rather than floating. At some point you'd need to turn hunter-gatherer.

You wonder briefly if a strength potion makes an adequate substitute for nourishment. 

You attempt to get your glassestop out of your sylladex, since perhaps it's at least a little salvageable, but nooo. It seems the spirits aren't cooperative today. "Thanks." you say aloud, voice heavy with sarcasm. 

Looks like there's nothing left to do but put on your adventurer hat and head into the sunset. 

[automatonarisen-blog]

> Escape.

You wake when the rock you're leaning on starts shifting. '10 more minutes...' you mumble, before it hits you that rocks do not move. You jump to your feet (not a smart choice, considering you just ripped all your scabs back open.), on alert. The dragoness you'd taken down yesterday is finally coming to because, guess what, you forgot to finish the job. And somehow, in a display of even more unbelievable stupidity, you'd fallen asleep against her side without even tending to your wounds first. What, do I have a secret death wish or something? you reprimand yourself, though the words ring disturbingly true.

The dragon turns toward you, stretching her mouth wide, but whether she intends spit fire, snap at you, or merely roar you never find out. You react instinctively, only wanting her to stop, and stop she does, suddenly encased in glowing red glyphs. 

She's not nearly as powerful as Jack, and so you are are able to shift some of your attention to a small black speck lying a few feet away on the ground. There's no way you're leaving without your glassestop, smashed to smithereens or not. It's your only connection to everyone you know and love. You scoot slowly toward it, not turning your back to her just as she is not taking her eyes off you. 

You snatch it off the ground and, stowing it in your sylladex, dash into the trees behind you. Your concentration is split, holding the dragon in place taking a fair bit of it, so it's really no wonder that you manage to trip a couple of times as you run. 

You finally get to an area of the forest where the trees grow close enough together that it would be nigh impossible to follow you, and you release her, feeling drained. Her roar echoes through the trees, but she doesn't seem inclined to follow you. You collapse to the ground, panting. Sweat drips down your back, burning in the newly reopened wounds, and you're vaguely aware of the rust red blood thats soaking your socks. It doesn't help that you haven't eaten in almost a whole day and you've lost a considerable amount of blood. 

You really need to get yourself healed, and fortunately you have just the potion for  it. You decaptachalogue it, eyeing it warily, considering saving it for another time. But the spirits had let you get it now (Curiously, the code for it was 'fef'), and you are in pretty bad shape... 

You shake the bottle, watching the liquid slosh thickly inside. It certainly doesn't look inviting. Ah well. You pinch your nose and bring the bottle up to your face, trying to gulp it down as quickly as possible. The fuchsia swill tastes even worse than you'd imagined, coating your tongue and nearly choking you. 

 A tingling in your back, shins, and palms tells you that its working though, and you can literally feel your cuts knitting back together. I wonder if this is how Equius felt when I healed him? The sensations slowly fade away, and you turn your attention to what's currently your most important feature: your wings. 

It seems they were too far gone for the potion to do anything for. You can gently flutter what's left of them without any pain. What's left of them being the key phrase. There's no way you could fly like this. 

You are healed, but not whole.

[automatonarisen-blog]

> Explore.

You are once again soaring through the sky, reveling in the freedom it affords you. There's been entirely too much sadness in your life these past few days, you think, and an expedition is just the distraction you need. You let excitement buzz through you, doing a couple of flips in midair. It's almost as if nothing could bring you down. 

Well, almost nothing. You feel a little bad about your conversation with Eridan earlier. You know he doesn't like being alone in the hive. But you're not going to let him bring you down. You decidee to bring him up instead, putting a whole slew of sappy romantic posts in your queue. You doubt you'll be on tumblr very much while you're out exploring, though you do have your trusty glassestop if you need to access the internet. 

You've never been on a multi-day expedition before. Rammom would never let you while you were alive, and opportunities have been (understandably) scarce since you died. You are determined to be prepared though. You've filled your sylladex with everything you think you might need, including the potions UU had given you under the guise of anonymity. 

Strength and healing. They might come in handy, though of course you hope you won't be running into any situations where you'll need them. Barren Alternia can be pretty harsh, as you've already experienced. The lusi have grown unaccustomed to seeing trolls around, and many of them have no qualms about attacking on sight.

You have, in fact, already been attacked by a few varieties of wild fauna. Most are land based, though, and you were able to flit easily out of their reach, or if they'd caught you a little more off guard than you'd like to admit you could hit them with a quick time freezing spell and get away. 

You are quite a ways inland now, and you realize how odd it is not to have the cadence of the ocean crashing against your ears, though there is still the sound of the wind as it whispers through the trees below. The sound is soft and peaceful, and maybe you can allow yourself just a second to close your eyes and enjoy it...

As such, you are utterly unprepared for the dragon that suddenly bursts from the treetops. 

You hear the heavy beating of wings and your eyes snap open, but its already too late. The scaled beast slams into you with the force of a hurricane, knocking the breath out of you. You free fall for a moment before regaining your senses.

You grit your teeth. You haven't been in a good fight in a long time, and (are you actually smirking?) a dragon might even prove a worthy opponent for your new status. You pull out your whip kind, continuing to hover under the gigantic dragon. 

You dart in, hovering close to her neck, where she can't get you with either her teeth or fire, though you are careful to avoid her sharp claws. With some effort, you manage to get your whip around her neck, pulling it tight so as to choke her.

She thrashes wildly, tail whipping the air, neck straining in every direction, but you focus all your energy on physically pulling the whip tighter, adding your psionics to the mix. 

Somehow you end up beneath the great beast, but you're not concerned much with your positioning at the moment, as it's more than enough work just to keep a grip on your weapon. You can feel her protestations weakening though, and you grin. Almost there. 

You've been so entirely focused on the battle, it's escaped your notice that you've been steadily losing altitude. So when you slam into the ground, wings first, the sound that leaves your throat is a screech unlike any a human can make.

The now-unconcious dragon's weight comes down on top of you, and momentum causes you both to skid along the ground for several feet, the ground ripping at you.

When you finally stop, you grunt, lifting the dragon's head off of you with psionics and crawling out from under her. 

You get unsteadily to your feet. 

All that's left of your wings are a few shredded tatters. Certainly not enough to fly. Not even enough for you to be able to see them, no matter what position you try to twist yourself into. 

Your godtier clothes are ripped and torn. 

Your glassestop is shattered and unusable. 

You sink down to the ground.

How could you have been so stupid?

[automatonarisen-blog]

You spent a good amount of your second day outside on the beach. And not just to get a tan, either; you'd been working hard on testing your theory.

After your preliminary experiments, chances to practice had come few and far between. Living was so inconvenient sometimes. Having to eat. And sleep! Hmph. 

But right now you are all focus. The crab scuttles across the rock, and you can see the paths of its future in your mind's eye. You've been going back and forth in the timeline, and it seems there are only two outcomes for it. Any moment now, it will either plop safely into the tide pool, or get snatched up by a hungry seagull overhead. 

You concentrate even harder, your eyes watering and muscles tense. Your left hand is by your side, fist clenching and unclenching, while you carefully stretch out your right, directly toward the crab in question. Arcane red symbols obscure it from your sight, and before you can blink it is already safe in the tidepool, the bird that would have eaten it crying out in frustration. 

You can do this, you tell yourself. You've been practicing speeding up time in a localized area as much as you possibly could, and though it hasn't been long, the abilities seem to come naturally to you. 

It's time to go propose to Equius. 

No, not like that, why did you even choose those particular words? You have a proposition to make to Equius. There. If you can speed up time around his wound, he might heal much more quickly. 

You head inside Eridan's hive, hovering just off the floor so you won't make a sound. Something about the echoing empty halls demands silence when you're alone. You make your way towards Equius' door, where you hesitate. 

You haven't seen him in person since the Most Awkward Sleepover In The History Of Paradox Space (and yes, the capitalization is vital) and you still feel odd, talking to him. To most Equiuses, really. You know he still has a lingering flush crush on you, why else would he care if you were with Eridan? But this is important, so you steel yourself, and knock softly on the door. Maybe he's asleep. 

[automatonarisen-blog]

m!a ==> You are now godtier until you die a heroic or just death!

i asked and the anons delivered

wow

this is

really overwhelming

i never really expected to be godtier

and now

well this could last quite a while

...

im going to have to get used to living again