Kirby Krackle

I've played BB/BB and swear by it. It's what I leap at the chance to play assuming somebody else is willing to Engie. But a Kritz Medic on the team, especially with the Shared Canteen power can absurdly spam Kritz and Ubers, which nobody complains about. I save lives, bro.

Also, should I be expecting Spies in the first wave?

We don't need no stinkin' Medics, we have a dispenser!

And that makes me sad. I love being Medic, but they're so **** useless in MvM.

OBJECTION!

Kritzkrieg.

Glasses off to get a better look, the toymaker gave this newcomer one long looking over. His ears were perked up as well, trying to listen for the delicate whirring of gears and servomotors. His optics, nor his auditories, nor his olfactories (he smelled him too) did not betray him. This creature was definitely not a robot. Though, just to be sure, Tinker Tailor gave him a few safety pokes to be sure. Was there cold metal touching his hoof? Nope! And thanks to that, he felt mighty proud to say "[colour=#ff00ff]Welcome to the team! My name is Tinker Tailor and these... well, I don't recall their names, actually. But I bet they're nice! Maybe to you. Not so much with me.[/colour]" That last bit, he whispered in the new guy's ear.

"[colour=#ff00ff]So, c'mon! Let me show you around! This is...[/colour]" Eagerly, he planned on giving the new guy the whole tour of the place, only to find he was putting on display absolutely nothing. Though he did notice his artillery was mounted next to a few stacked bags of 'Corpse-Grade Quicklime'. Yuck, he thought, for only that moment, before moving on. "[colour=#ff00ff]But enough about me! How about you? And where did you get those wonderful toys?[/colour]"[colour=#ff00ff] [/colour]Oh, there were so many gizmos and thingamajigs strapped to this stallion he was already drooling, one back hoof kicking around to search for his tool box.

Mission begins in 30 seconds.

Mission? What mission?

Two things:

• TortoiseShell is... ill, at the moment. Hacking up not pretty colours. I'll see if she's post-worthy otherwise.
  
• COMBAT IN MANEWORKS A;LKSHDGAHG;HAGJKHA;HA;KJDF
  

General con etiquette? 1. Shower. 2. Shower. 3. 1 and 2. That about covers it -- have fun!

With VAs and stuff, you can always ask them for a hug or something. No real harm there, even if it's outside of their designated signing time. They're there to have fun and commune with their fans!

Looking back at all the convention handbooks I collect (and then later lose), it saddens me to see how much 'shower' is posted as close to the front of the book as possible. Because some people really are that bad.

I'm not sure if you should bug them for hugs outside of the hugging time. Its not fun having to tell people no, or hug everybody around because they saw you give a different person a hug

There's hugging times?!

I think 'intimate' is the word I was looking for, actually. I'm still not sure why that worries me.

It occurred to Tinker Tailor that the standard issue protective goggles provided to him by Mane Co. were driving him absolutely bananas. The lenses were scratched to Tartarus, the straps worn and frayed and certainly did not sit comfortably on the face. Ick. Discard. And since welding with unprotected eyes is a bad idea, he began digging through his toolbox for a replacement as well as trying to remember if he even packed one.

The first piece of spare eye-ware he found would only protect him from frowny-faces. Maybe later, he thought with a grin. More digging. His reading glasses! [colour=#ff00ff]"Perfect[/colour]", he exclaimed aloud. "[colour=#ff00ff]Now nopony can hit me![/colour]" Back to digging one bad joke later, though he found it hilarious. "[colour=#ff00ff]C'mon now, those things have got to be in here somewhere...[/colour]" The stallion was impossibly flank deep inside his tool box at this point, only to come up with nothing. "[colour=#ff00ff]Looks like it's later[/colour]", only half disappointed. After all, who could be all the way disappointed with a fake nose and mustache on their face?

Good thing he could see better too. Just in time to notice the plane flying overhead. And a pony dropped from it. That looked like fun. "[colour=#ff00ff]A little too fun, if you ask me![/colour]"

With reflexes he had no business possessing, the Unicorn whipped himself around, arming himself with his Wrangler to aim the mounted turret again. "[colour=#ff00ff]Halt![/colour]", the toymaker cried at the newcomer and suspected death machine, "[colour=#ff00ff]Do you identify yourself as Equine?![/colour]"

"[colour=#ff00ff]...no offense[/colour]", punctuated things, noticing the Griffin next to him. Awkward.

First: the disclaimer. I actually have been to conventions before! Otakon in Baltimore and NYCC specifically, for many years now. I have awards from them too, but that's another thread. So I know how to act at a Con but...

And here's the point of the thread...

How does one act at a Brony convention? I ask because my wife TortoiseShell has graciously bought me tickets to Big Apple Pony Con! Isn't she a doll? But anyway. I want to say that its nothing I haven't done before, that its standard fare and I should just be my usual charming self. But this seems more personal, guys. It's a smaller venue. It's a smaller demographic! Heck, some of you guys might even be going to see AlexS and Tara Strong and then run into me and my stupid hair! I cannot help but clam up at the thought.

Help me out here, lads and ladettes. Before I go all a flutter.

XBox handle is Iuzzies. I haven't taken a spin online in a while but usually I'm on... Wow, what am I on? Mostly MvC3 (not ultimate) or BlazBlue. The FPSs, those I tend to just run through single player mode.

Oh, and I highly recommend the Ghostbusters game.

No wonder this season only had 13 episodes. The entire budget went into song production.

A rival? Once the Toyman realizes what Spies do to his buildings, do you think you'll have just one rival? He'll plan on making a Thanksgiving dinner out of that jive turkey! Maestro, hit it!

And I have to say, I like it! I wasn't sure what to expect from your bio and then I see something akin to a Tom Clancy novel! Except I'm enjoying myself! The post is surprisingly warm and down to earth with a mare to come home to. More Black Ops than Dashing Rogue. A fine spin on tradition and absolutely nothing about it I don't like! Good show!

Two things.

I think the Demopony will be a girl. Not the adventurer archeologist per se, but rather the tag along. A pony Short Round. Still a demolition expert and mainly responsible for "Indy" getting out of a few scrapes, ie blasting down walls. Too eager to please what she hopes to be a future love interest, she kabooms her way into a tomb to snag an ancient sword. Her first act upon being possessed is to behead Indy. Insert heroic BSOD.

Other ideas I'm playing around with are, rather than being a cyclops, a botched mixing of gunpowder gives her instead... Derp eyes.

Finally, what if her name was Bomb Voyage?

Extra finally, people need to join the Maneworks. Why? Sentry Busters. Think about it.

Psst. Ciraxis. He's knocking on your door. A blind character is suddenly hard to RP when reading becomes necessary.

"[colour=#4b0082]Asterix. Obelisk. Lean in here, please.[/colour]"

If Melody Amber's thrulls had a full three names, he would have used them. It was the only power on Ravnica that could truly express the level of disappointment he felt. As the two obediently obliged their master, he greeted both with a coddling stroke of the head (as both were trained since long ago to stay just the right height for this) before knocking them together like a pair of ripe coconuts.

"[colour=#4b0082]Knuckleheads! Numbskulls! Nincompoops! You had one job! One! Today was going so well and here we are... well, alright, I don't know where we are. And whose fault do you think that is, hmmm?[/colour]" He breathed deep, counted to ten and let the anger subside. No point in getting irate over the stupid leading the blind. Besides, the facts were these: He was neither dead nor being held hostage, so he could assure himself he wasn't in a Rakdos slum or any other ghastly sliver of the Undercity. No random explosions meant no insane Izzet laboratories. Assuming safety, he barked the order, "[colour=#4b0082]Asterix. Door. Now.[/colour]" The smaller of the two chirped up, sounding like an overgrown cricket and jerked his master's leash to the nearest entryway, to which the Unicorn knocked thrice.

He hoped that despite the noxious smell of chemical and animal meant somewhere well kept. May they be friendly, he prayed. Or at least bribe-able.

Chaos. Utter chaos. Whoever said war was Hell, they weren't kidding. And in the heat of battle, wow was Reveille in a panic. While every blast from his rockets did reduce robots to Radio Shack refuse, his frazzled nerves felt worse. Though as the fight waged on, his peripherals could see around him other ways robots could die. Some had their chassis melted to a useless red-hot blobs. Others he could see violently shake, their circuits shorting out before a knife severed all ties. All the while, laser guided triage was ensuring he felt no pain. The Soldier wasn't alone. And that was something, at least.

When the tank off in the distance finally ran out of tiny metal jerks to throw at them, he briefly hoped that it would be the last of them. Fort defended. Job done. End of story. Except no, he's not that lucky. Larger ones came out this time, built like some kind of... metal bear that hates ponies. And why on this Earth were they wearing boxing gear? No matter. This day was already weird enough. He dug through his pack for more ammunition only to find a single rocket left. Dang it. Looking down at the impending doom, he saw four of those Heavyweight Champs marked slightly different. The gloves worn had fire decals. Cool. Except those four moved much faster than the others. Not cool. One of them was carrying the infamous bomb being talked about by the announcer. Bad to worse.

"[colour=#0000cd]Take cover, Doc. I need a refill. You[/colour]", he was now addressing the larger girl finally caught up with the group, "[colour=#0000cd]Take care of her.[/colour]" Clearly not learning his lesson since the last time, he loaded his final rocket and wished himself luck. Aiming at the ground with the Laws of Motion in mind, he hopped as much as his Earth Pony legs could lift him, then fired. He rode the shock wave as intended, wanting every Pegasus in the word to envy him!

The roof he landed on a second time, with a slightly more graceful landing (i.e. he didn't break anything), still had that crate of ammunition. Thanking Celestia for it, he rushed to fill his bag with every last bomb built to fly. And while his hoof was buried in there, he felt the horn he brought along. He remembered the corners he played on, the concerts he performed and the single tune in the Mane Co. secret base. That might have been the last time he could play this thing. Except...

Nuts to that, he thought! He gets to play again if these robots are beaten back. And to do that, he needed to fight harder. His friends need to fight harder. So, why not a little inspiration? He blew four simple chords, filled with righteous rage before switching weapons again and leaping back down into the fray.

"[colour=#0000cd]CHARGE![/colour]"

He was positively glowing.

Y'know, it occurred to me yesterday during work: an idea for a Demopony. The short version (which is all I've worked out so far) is based around the Eyelander, which in the TF2niverse, is haunted by a "bloodthirsty, malevolent spirit". So I figured, what if a Daring Do-style adventurer finds this old relic in a castle and goes all Smeagol on everybody. He's/she's (I feel bad playing dudes all the time for some reason) fighting off the urge most of the time, but can't help but think about removing the occasional hat-holder. So, for the safety of those around him, he exiles himself. Then the robots attack, and he figures he can sate the sword's hunger with robot heads instead of fleshy ones.

Bam.

Yep. To reflect the game mode better, each RP will have a total of six players.

There's that big RP section down a little bit. You can't miss it. Some stuff requires applications. Some stuff doesn't. But yeah, I bet there's plenty of takers!

Because it bares(bears?) repeating, here I go again: Draw inspiration from unlikely sources in the TF2niverse. Hats, Miscs, the occasional secondary. For instance, what if a Pegasus was ACTUALLY a Milkman?

http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Special_Delivery_(Item_Set)

? Or some massive Earth Pony's day job being a Mexican wrestler?

http://wiki.teamfortress.com/wiki/Large_Luchadore

Even a spin on concept is cool. A logical train of thought being 'Medic - Doctor - Physical Therapist - Spa Pony', for instance.

Be creative! We love creative!

Reveille had to admit: he had no idea what to expect when in regards to the word 'robot'. Movies and comic books and the like have given him certain expectations. So have the rumors floating around in the Galloping Gazette and so has his overactive imagination. The worst case scenario at the moment was some kind of... atomic monster. A giant assembly of metallic pony bones, arranged haphazard, with sparking exposed wires and spikes and buzz saws pressure dials and howitzers where wings should be. In short, nightmare fuel. What actually came out of that carrier off in the horizon, on the other hoof, was less terrifying and more unnerving. He was neck deep in the Uncanny Valley.

The Pegasi rushing towards him were... geometric. Like somepony tried to make an army out of toy blocks, more than anything. They looked rickety. Cheap. It was that, combined with the almost natural (key word being 'almost') way they behaved that made him instinctively want to fire deadly explosives at their general direction. Heck, as their metal wings flew them closer, he could see their LED lights for eyes and hear the trash talking coming out of their literal voice boxes. Which begs the question: Why were they programmed to have a Manehatten accent?

'Hey, lookit me, Ma!'

'Woohoohoo!'

'I dunno whodah thank first. Oh, I know! Me!'

'Eat my dust!'

'It's startin' ta bore me how much you suck!'

'Lookitchu! You look like you ran through traffic!'

'I. Hate. Daktahs!'

Yeah, these things need to die. Aside from keeping the moral of 'Only 3 Rockets at a time' close to his heart, the would-be Soldier wasted little time. He opened fire, the missiles veering off in directions not all parallel to the route robots were traveling. He would kick himself for being a lousy shot and wasting ammo later. He fired three more. Three more misses. Meanwhile, robots were practically on top of him, already pulling the triggers on what looked like sawed off shotguns. The rhythm of three was in his muscle memory already and it was failing him. In fact, he had just loaded number two in before he took a round to the leg. Pain happened. The trigger released prematurely. It was a good thing. There was no over-thought this time. Just panic and instinct.The rockets hit the ground this time, their detonation much quicker and the damage being done much more spread. Oh, he caught the robots this time, scattering the resulting scrap metal all across the desert. "[colour=#0000cd]Much better[/colour]", he growled, knowing exactly how to shoot from now on.

Despite the rest of the noise surrounding him, his ears could definitely pick up a motorized whirring from way behind him. He could only use his peripherals at the time, but the only metal he could see on the pony incoming was in the hefty gun being used. Details could come when they're not being shot at. "[colour=#0000cd]You're with us, right? Fire! Fire! Fire! They're right on top of us![/colour]"

Okay, I'm back at my desktop for the evening. I can be busy.

My only real critique is... can we keep this within the two crossed series, please? I've only played the platforming Sonic games. I don't even know what Chaos Control does.

(Yes)x27!

Frankly, I don't see what's frightening about it. In the TF2-verse, Big Rock fits perfectly. A lot of the original maps and a few of the community maps take place in abandoned mines with bits of the map in caves. It just happens to be actually gray rocks instead of dirt/sandstone/gravel/whatever rock.

100 Spies.

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