Kirby Krackle

Oh my stars and garters! An unaffiliated! I was so hoping to get one of these! Good show, Valence! In the meantime, I figured an official application was in order, despite the fact that I'm running this joint.

Roleplay Type: Return to Ravnica

Name: Fungus Amongus

Sex: Male

Age: Stallion

Species: Earth Pony

Eye Color: Cream

Coat Color: A red/brown mix. Rusty.

Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: Moss green. Tail kept short. Mane in dreadlocks that cover his eyes.

Physique: Taller than average and bulky.

Cutie Mark: Amanita Muscaria.

Origin/Residence: Ravnica, specifically his family's property in the Undercity.

Occupation: Rot Farmer (hiatus), bar owner.

Motivation: To keep his family's business afloat.

Likes: Molds, spores and fungus. The Golgari Swarm's philosophy on Life and Death. Peace and quiet. Hard work. Fermented foods.

Dislikes: Ponies afraid to get dirty. The irrational fear of "zombies". Over-thinking and meddlers.

Character Summary: Born and raised in the Undercity by loving parents. For practical reasons, their Rot Farm was close to the surface as they shipped mulch and compost to above ground farms, as well as accepted deliveries of trash from local sources. Growing up, he found mushrooms fascinating due to their tenacity to grow in the dark and filth, where nothing else could. This love went so far as to wanting a Thallid, or "Cattle Mushroom" as a pet. Though his parents, given the willies at the thought, always said no. As a treat, he would be taken up to Simic research labs and libraries for some recreational study of Mycology and Mycotoxology, if he put in a little extra work on the farm in exchange that is.

There, he met Forest Touch, who dreamed of becoming a doctor. Despite their differences, they became friends and eagerly showed each other the ins and outs of local Guild life. During a sleep over at the farm, he full on tackled Forest before he could eat a wild Death Cap, which he mistook for a common and edible Button. His cutie mark came then.

As thanks for saving his life, Forest Touch "borrowed" a Thallid specimen from a lab to give to Fungus. He was thrilled. Too thrilled to realize his taxonomy was off. It wasn't a tiny baby Thallid, but rather a tiny baby Sporoloth, which can grow taller than most trees and flatten most buildings. To make matters worse, he nurtured the creature during the annual Doubling Season. It became massive. It rampaged. It had to be put down. His parents were comforting though and told him that his fallen friend would be in the garden from now on, making everything that grows there stronger. This was his first lesson about death, which he took to heart.

Much more recently, there was a fight between some random gang of Rakdos thugs and Boros agents trying to bring them to justice. The arrest got out of control and spilled into much of the Undercity. His parents were taken hostage. Reckless fire magic from both parties and noxious gasses from the sewers nearby caused an explosion that took the lives of all but a few officers and Fungus Amongus, who lost his leg in the process. From a legal standpoint, the Boros Legion was quick to pay for damages to the farm though Fungus had to convince a few lawyers and accountants that his parents will be raised and can reclaim rightful ownership of the property. In the meantime, he needed to keep the family business alive somehow. Thankfully the family stores were undamaged and he opened a bar, selling suds and a variety of fermented foods.

A laptop and a lunch break. Halleluiah.

Pro-tip #5 is one that Fungus found counterintuitive, mainly due to his years of experience in farm work: Prepare fresh every time. "But Forest", Fungus would say, "Surely it would be better to slice up everything in advance to cut down on cooking time? Isn't faster better?" Forest Touch insisted otherwise. All dishes should be made to order. He would then add something snarky like 'The wait time can rot. Just cook faster.' Just cook faster, he says. Good thing Fungus got his knife training in today while preparing the sampler platters. He was thankful, because the practice meant chopping a dozen mushrooms (and two onions) were a breeze. Fifteen minutes in the oven later and he was out of the kitchen, two orders of six ready to go.

'Now come on, Fungus', he demanded of himself, 'If you can remember textbooks worth of Mycology and Necromancy, then remembering who had the mead along this should- Ah. Got it'. To the Izzet with the shiny mitten it went. The solo platter went to the little blue mare who couldn't speak up.

Wait. Is that... it is!

"Hey, what's up, Doc!" he chimed, cheerfully waving to Forest Touch. "Funny thing, I was just thinking about you. Bad things, I promise", he jabbed. "And business has... heh, mushroomed. And yeah, I'm pretty sure we have that one left. But with coffee? Eww."

On the way back to the kitchen to both deposit dirty dishes and check his stock again, his leg got a brief itch. Nothing to think of it until he realized it was his zombified leg. On most days, it has absolutely no feeling in it, pain or pleasure. It's dead, after all. "Maybe I didn't screw this up that bad after all."

Finally finished my first Mann Up mission. Took us 3 hours, I got 5 weapon drops. Oh yeah, and the mission complete loot? A weapon. At least I got some Tour of Duty progress. (And a spiffing badge!)

And I finally got a Team Captain today!

Team Captain? Awesome!

In other news, I decided to kick open MVM with a circle of friends I spend not as much time with. Most of them are inexperienced players, where as I have no social life to speak of and basically live on the game (and here). The map was Coaltown and why oh why oh why were they not listening to me when I begged and begged and begged to gaurd choke points? That first entry way, with it's narrow(ish) corridor is the absolute perfect place for Rockets and Stickies and Sappers and a well placed Buff Banner. Yet the other five guys wanted to turtle back at spawn. Fine, whatever, I help my team. So I go Engie against better judgement (we already had 2 at this point) and set up my Sentry in a not frequently aimed at spot, complete with high ground, above a bridge the bots would be coming through. A very narrow bridge, i.e. chokepoint. Nope. My team insisted I just sit it at spawn, facing the bridge, with complete line of sight to rockets and arrows.

I try not to ragequit with friends. Luckily I had to make dinner. Chokepoints, people! Chokepoints!

Also, anyone got that Metal Fedora as a drop? I'll pay handsomely.

Then there's this guy: http://www.youtube.com/user/jcarlson04/videos

Seek and ye shall find, my brothers and sisters.

That wasn't shouting. Not by any pony's standards, but bless her she was trying. He did catch the word 'Mead', though and announced that we would be back shortly with her beverage of choice. Considering the seven out of eighteen barrels labeled 'Mead' as a challenge, he worked through his mental catalog of recipes, trying to find the most appropriate brew. He eventually spotted a name he would often see on orders placed by the Selesnya. Must be the milder stuff, he reasoned. A taste test confirmed things and into a mug it went, off to his next thirsty customer.

"One cuppa joe coming right up, officer!"

A pro-tip Fungus received from a friend regarding the art of restauranting was to never ask how a patron takes their coffee. If they have a preference, they will make mention as they order. If not, simply present them with cream and sugar and let them figure it out. So, as quick as a whip, Fungus was in and out of the kitchen with a hot mug of java with a tiny ceramic pitcher of chilled dairy and a sugar dispenser as neighbors. Another pro-tip: keeping up on customer orders. He heard the little engineer ask for hard cider and was in the back room as fast as his bum leg could carry him. Though, once there his haste scrambled any relevant thoughts on which barrel to crack open. 'Hard'. What did that mean exactly? Alcohol content, he told himself, which is directly related to time spent fermenting. The older the better. Following that concept, he ignored the brews he had prepared in advance for this evening in lieu of of a barrel sitting alone and forgotten in a dusty corner. His father's chicken scratch label read 'Apple cranberry' with a seal date of five years ago. Perfect!

"Strongest in the house", he advertised to the Izzet as he slid her a chilled flagon. "If this doesn't knock your socks off, then they finally built that cast-iron stomach I keep hearing about."

Pro-tip #3: Samples. You will be surprised how much a pony will buy once you give them something for free. And tonight is a party, so why not start off with something special? Stuffed mushrooms to be exact. It's a recipe he's been working on since long before he got this crazy bar & grill idea.

"Agaricus Bisporus", he announced, now back from another trip to the kitchen, this time wheeling out a cart carrying six dozen carefully prepared snacks. "More commonly known as the White or Button Mushroom. The younger version of the Portabello. The stems have been removed, chopped fine and sauteed with onions and fresh garlic. Cream cheese and a raw egg act as a binder, then the caps are stuffed with this mixture. Bread crumbs and a little Parmesan make a crust on top, then I washed it all with butter and set them to bake". There he was, rambling again. The social awkwardness only shows through when he's not talking about things that reproduce with a cloud of spores. "Ahem... well, that is... since this is Mushroom Kingdom's grand opening and all...", See? Stuttering. "And since this is the Guildpact Festival and all... these are all on the house. Please! Enjoy, everyone!" Please enjoy, he mentally pleaded. Please please please please please enjoy.

Pro-tip #4: Greet every customer as they enter. And remember to smile smile smile. "Good evening", he chimed to the awfully tiny mare who stepped in. Though, for the life of him, he couldn't hear a blasted thing over the din. So her order was lost on him. "What can I get for you?"

Now, now...this seems interesting. Wouldn't mind if I jump in? I would play Simic too!

Also Kirby - would you mind having established friendship with your character? After all being from diffrent guilds doesn't mean that they have to gouge their eyes right?

Go right ahead!

Also, for everyone, I can only do so much with an iPhone and a lunch break. Post slow. I love you all but wow I need a full keyboard and the F5 button.

A few notes on how the some of the Guilds have changed, if any. Mainly it's race of the leaders.

Judge Azor the first, as well as Razia of the Boros Legion: both Alicorns.

Szadek of House Dimir now a Changeling. It makes too much sense.

Rakdos the Defiler, bringer of chaos? Draconequus.

Borborygmos, now Minotaur.

The Choros of the Conclave is unchanged, still a hive mind of assorted ponies.

Same as the Ghost Council of Orzhov and Svogthos, who is still an immortal zombie head.

The Izzets here should be happy to know that absolutely nothing changed. Still a Dragon. Still the biggest brain on the planet.

The Simic, who I can find no immortals for, I'm still working on, though not so much as nobody is playing a Simic yet.

You guys are bananas. Not peanut butter and banana sandwich. That's amazing. You're all the bad kind of bananas. 5 Guys is amazing.

BTW, are our characters ponies or humanized?

Ponies. Ponies are cool.

Well. That's done. Door's open, folks. Enjoy the party.

How much is one hundred years of peace worth? Weigh this against the alternative: continuing the centuries of mindless violence and brutality. Such was the world ten loose-knit factions lived, all waging an endless war against each other and causing a countless loss of life. Of their leaders, nine out of ten were willing to see to the end of this combat if the end result was indeed their dominance over the world. The last, Azor, an alicorn of vast power and cool logic, realized that if these actions remained unaltered, the only result would be absolute destruction. So he, with the confidence of some and reluctant compliance of others created their ten guilds: Azorius, Dimir, Rakdos, Gruul, Selesnyan, Orzhov, Izzet, Golgari, Boros and Simic. These ten would go on to build and maintain Ravnica, a metropolis whose infrastructure spanned the globe. Next came the signing of the Guildpact, a global peacekeeping enchantment to ensure the survival of the ten faction and forever end the violence that threatened to consume and destroy them. Every tear since then, on the anniversary of the Guildpact's signing, a city-wide and day-long festival is held, where every pony from every guild can forget their petty squabbles, drop their swords and make merry.

The Guildpact's Centennial is where our story begins.

Enter Mushroom Kingdom, a homely little bar and grill that just barely managed to open its doors in time for the biggest party of the year. Construction has just recently ended, with every nook and cranny attended to, down to the bar stools and menu. Despite the freshness of the place, it's still in not-a-great part of the city and the occasional plank of wood is showing signs of water damage and mold. But the place is dang sturdy and in otherwise pristine upkeep, its owner would say. After all, Fungus Amongus can do only so much with a horsehair budget.

Fungus Amongus? He's a woody red stallion, and pretty darn big. His main is dreaded, covers his eyes and sports a bright mossy green if he remembers to wash up after working the fields. His cutie mark, very distinctive white speckled and candy apple red mushroom. You know the kind. "Amanita Muscaria, more commonly known as the Fly Agaric", he would say before talking your ear off about his modus operandi. The Golgari Swarm raises their foals strong and smart. "Have to be both to keep that wheel spinning." That wheel meaning the cycle of Life and Death. "Practical Necromancy is not the stuff of bit-store horror novels. It's what gets the garbage picked up every morning and the dinner on your plate every night." Prior to running a dive, he and his family, like most of the Golgari, ran a Rot Farm, theirs specializing in fermented and pickled goods though the real money came from mulch.

There was one unpleasant night three months ago, where the arrest of some Rakdos thugs went beyond the Boros's control and severe property damage pretty much destroyed the farm, took Fungus's back leg and the lives of his parents. Most would be broken up over this, but the Golgari Swarm does not bury their dead. They plant them. Having learned the ritual when he was very young, Fungus made quick work of giving them back to the soil. Their return should be any day now. The courts are well aware of this and cannot very well auction off the property of those only between states of living. Ever the hard worker, Fungus took out a loan (since the Boros were kind enough to pay for the damages to the farm) and opened this dive to keep income flowing during repairs, serving the family's surplus of vittles along side some cheap to make "But mighty tasty!" wines and spirits. As for his leg, that was reattached, though the rituals for that were... slightly botched. It still works fine, but he'll have a limp for life and as well as stink of rotten eggs. The assorted plant matters keeping his necrotic flesh sturdy are making sure of that.

* * *

Something has been bothering Fungus for a while now. Something he's forgotten. Apron snug? Check. Picked egg jar full? Check. Bar wiped clean? Check. Lights on and door open? Check. Balloons? That's a big check. He hasn't yet practiced that "Call me Fun-Guy" friendliness that bartenders were supposed to have, but hospitality training can happen as he goes. Meanwhile, the clock has officially chimed midnight and the Festival Guildpact has officially begun! Time to welcome those customers and get this party started!

...wait, he forgot to advertize, didn't he? Oh bother.

No 18+. I'm pretty sure the occasional scrap, if any, can be solved within those confines.

Also I juggle writing intros and reading bios as we speak.

The Italian sub at Jimmy John's can't be beat. Though I do have a soft spot for what's called the Shamrock at a local deli of mine. It was Pastrami and provolone with cole slaw and french dressing. I don't know why but WOW it hit the spot.

Oh how I await this RP.

Which makes me feel even guiltier. My day off sucked. For lots of reasons. But I'm going to work on my nice big intro for you guys tomorrow during my downtime at work. Rest assured, this will be up and running absolutely positively as soon as possible. So get excited! Get me psyched! Tell me what's on your minds about those characters you're cooking up!

That reminds me, do we need to create OC's specific to this RP?

Or retool old ones. I'm not picky.

Tuesday is an actual day off when I can build a setting. In the meantime, prep characters!

Definitely during the guild pact. It might make for some interesting situations on the side, perhaps something out of Romeo and Juliet...eh, maybe I'm getting all too mushy about it.

Nonsense! I already like the idea of two star crossed lovers kept apart not only by family but by politics and philosophies and magic itself.

It's beautiful for an old softy like me! It should take place on common ground to start off! Where all ten can converge! On the anniversary of the guild pact itself! Yes!

Even though the guildpact says don't.

Like that stops anybody.

So when would this be taking place? During that timeline? I can definitely try to find digital copies of the book for those unfamiliar. Or am I over thinking this?

Am I right to assume that you are going to incorperate the factions of the Ravnica plane?

Absolutely. It would not be Ravnica without ten club houses all trying to kill each other.

That's 3! Which is 3 more than I had planned for. Time to brew up a storyline.

When my mic hook ups work and I actually coordinate with my team (more than "spy demo") I use my mic. Most of the time though I'm just a fast typist.

I pity the dead, who cannot know this joy. This is... I love Valve so much. So so much.

Beat "Sonic Spinball"

Did it. Twice. Granted, the victories were fifteen or so years apart...