Buncha Idiots in a Tavern

[Chickenspleen]

"Oh Richard," says Alan Dickman. "Things have never been the same since you came into my life."

As Alan Rickman makes loving eyes at Richard, he is hit by a flying jar of semen.

Tirin scoffed at his junior's mistaken theatrics. "Come on, you know we can both remember the original timeline. You might be fooling the absolute jags, but even smart enough lessers can figure it out." He paused a moment, teal eyes glancing around the room. "Of course, it doesn't look like any of these will. If you claim t'be me from "the" future it doesn't matter. If you claim t'be me from our future, you're wrong."

He stepped forward bearing the compassionate smile of a teacher and healer, which precious few ever saw, and set a hand on the other Tirin's shoulder. His eyes cast brilliant teal light, and the feeble, jaundiced clone's flesh slowly cleared. The near-invalid's muscle, and with it strength of body, returned not long after, and the fat and scarring in his savaged liver lessened, then disappeared. "You've got a hell of a lot of power. Always try to think of better ways to use it. And think on this: aside from the very youngest, we're all from the future."

Just then, Carren comes out of the back room. She seems to be wearing the exact same clothes, just without an apron. She halts as she notices the two Tirins taking to each other.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?"

 

[Jeroth]

Since Tirin stole my character I'll make this when I'm done training.

But I'm dibsing on

SIR RICHARD HUNGSLEY

 

[Easy]

As Alan Rickman makes loving eyes at Richard, he is hit by a flying jar of semen.


Just then, Carren comes out of the back room. She seems to be wearing the exact same clothes, just without an apron. She halts as she notices the two Tirins taking to each other.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?"

"Yes." Future Tirin answers. He snaps his fingers.

Carren comes out of the back room. She seems to be wearing the exact same clothes, just without an apron. She halt as she notices the two Tirins talking to each other.

She stays halted as the entire world, but for the two Tirins, is frozen in time. Future Tirin's skin starts to wrinkle and sag. Gray streaks start to appear in his hair, and spread throughout. The yellow spots reappear on his flesh, which contracts until it droops and sags again. Within seconds, he's visually indistinct from when he'd first appeared in this timeline.

"Yeah, thanks anyway," he rasps "but I've already tried that. Well, 'already' for me. The fact that you thought I came here to bitch about cirrhosis or something, means that you definitely haven't done this yet.

"That, and, I'm the only one that could have. Just listen.

"You know how the plebs are always asking if God can make a rock so big, He couldn't lift it? Well, I've pretty much solved that problem. I've become the Master of Time And Space. Sustained effort can temporarily alter my body's age and material state, but the amount of power needed increases exponentially with the acting Tirin's relative time, and the desynchronization is reversed right afterwards. Meaning, don't bother.

"Why? Because I'm the Master of Time and Space. A Tirin at your level can barely find his toothbrush in the interdimensional void, and only 'cause you've got traces of your saliva on it. But for me-" he spread his arms, and the tavern's roof disappeared to reveal a starry night sky. "To me, that is nothing. Anything is." With a flourish, the moon and stars disappeared from above, leaving nothing behind but cold, dark emptiness. Another flourish, and they all reappeared, every one in its exact place. Then the roof came back.

"Anyway, look" he finished, "the point is, even my own time powers can't change my relative age anymore, and my time powers are infinite. Problem is, so's my resistance to them. It's a pretty shitty trade-off.

"The reason I came to tell you this, is because you're still junior enough that you haven't yet figured out navigating the IDV, but you're probably about to. When you do, you'll get access to the Council of Tirins, where all the theoretical iterations of us meet up. (We mostly f%#k.)

"One of the orgies I was at, though, we were so drunk and so hype, we got super irresponsible and figured out how to achieve unlimited power. It got pretty gruesome from there and, not gonna lie, I ended up being the one that got it and eliminated all competitors. Which means all other Tirins that could have theoretically existed at that time. All of which were relentless drunks. There were probably other constants between all of them, but I don't remember 'em. The drinking is the only one I'm completely certain of.

"See where I'm going, here? If you develop into one of the Tirins that was theoretically possible in the IDV - which, as you should know, equally represents the Tirinical development of all accessible timelines, and therefore, all theoretical developments for yourself at this time - then your development will necessarily and inevitably result, and already has resulted, in one of two fates.

"One. You are obliterated in the pursuit of Mastery of Time and Space, like the vast majority of theoretical Tirins.

"Two. You are the lone iteration that actually achieves that goal, like me. In the mistaken belief that you have solved the Nat-DT issue, known to many Tiriterations as a result of that state of existence, you lose all ability to alter your own relative time, in exchange for unlimited ability to alter the relative and absolute times of absolutely anything and everything else. Hell, I didn't even get here by traveling in time. At least, not directly. But that's another story.

"Point is, pretty soon you'll figure out the IDV. Hopefully, I'm right and when that happens, my coming here will have made a completely new theoretical Tirin possible - one that actually shows up sober. In which case, it's possible that we won't end up like this, and we can keep being regular Tirin forever. It isn't happened to that theoretical iteration, so it doesn't necessarily happen to that one. There's a nonzero chance that it doesn't, at least, which is more than can be said for all my observed iterations.

"Anyway, good talk." He finally concludes, patting his junior self on the shoulder. "You probably have some questions an' such. I'm getting bored, though, so I'm gonna go see if this worked. Might come back and answer 'em if it didn't." He snaps his fingers. The tavern life returns to normal - with the exception of Future Tirin, who disappears from the spot.

 

[Tirin]

If Tirin was surprised by the mass of exposition that his dying elder self gave, it didn't show - though the sympathy that once softened his gaze had turned into disgust and hatred. What points he fixated on, and what he was going to do as a result, he didn't bother voicing. Instead, after the man left and time unstuck itself, he looked to Carren and took a deep, shuddering breath, looking ill. "Just... give me a few minutes. Won't be long."

He turned and began walking back to the bar, his heartbeat quickening with each step. First sixty per minute, then one hundred and twenty, all the way to six thousand. It was an awful struggle to balance his monstrously-accelerated personal time with what the patrons and employees of the bar were experiencing, but he did it all the same, feeling as though he reached the barstool at a crawl instead of a walk. "Drinks now. Many as you can get me." He said firmly, holding a hand out to begin pounding them back as quickly as they were set before him. All the while, he listened closely for his foe's return.

 

[Chickenspleen]

If Tirin was surprised by the mass of exposition that his dying elder self gave, it didn't show - though the sympathy that once softened his gaze had turned into disgust and hatred. What points he fixated on, and what he was going to do as a result, he didn't bother voicing. Instead, after the man left and time unstuck itself, he looked to Carren and took a deep, shuddering breath, looking ill. "Just... give me a few minutes. Won't be long."

He turned and began walking back to the bar, his heartbeat quickening with each step. First sixty per minute, then one hundred and twenty, all the way to six thousand. It was an awful struggle to balance his monstrously-accelerated personal time with what the patrons and employees of the bar were experiencing, but he did it all the same, feeling as though he reached the barstool at a crawl instead of a walk. "Drinks now. Many as you can get me." He said firmly, holding a hand out to begin pounding them back as quickly as they were set before him. All the while, he listened closely for his foe's return.

Jerome continues to dish out every drop of swill he can find. Carren looks at Tirin with a concerned expression.

The door is flung open suddenly as an old man walks into the bar like he owns the place. Those who are regulars recognize the man as Old Man McGuffin.

"Howdy, ev'rybody! Now, how many of you are adventurers?"

 

[Easy]

Character "Future Tirin" exits the game.

 

[Tirin]

Character "Future Tirin" exits the game.

No balls.

 

[Colonel Thunder]

"Oh no!" cries Alan Rickman, now covered in semen. "My one weakness! Aggghhhh!"

Alan Rickman melts into a puddle of semen-y blood and dies.

...

Gene Wilder walks into the bar.

"Hello? Yes, I'm an adventurer," he says to the old man.

 

[Chickenspleen]

"Oh no!" cries Alan Rickman, now covered in semen. "My one weakness! Aggghhhh!"

Alan Rickman melts into a puddle of semen-y blood and dies.

...

Gene Wilder walks into the bar.

"Hello? Yes, I'm an adventurer," he says to the old man.

"Excellent! Do you have any, uh, special talents or anything?"

 

[Colonel Thunder]

"Excellent! Do you have any, uh, special talents or anything?"

This occurs, from 3:26 on

 

[coolpool2]

The fairy stayed silent. She was actually just here on vacation. Sure, she was better than most at fighting where she came from, but she hated to be stereotyped as an adventurer.

 

[Tirin]

Tirin sat at the bar drinking profusely for minutes which felt like hours, shaking with suppressed anger as he realized that the so-called Master of Time and Space wouldn't be making an appearance. The coward. Finally he stood, returning his subjective timerate to normal and undoing the alcohol dissipation those "hours" had wrought, leaving himself quite drunk.

He turned to the old fuck who'd just barged into the bar and greeted him with a forced smile. "I'm'n adventurer, old man. Besta the best. Whatcha need me t'do?"

 

[Chickenspleen]

This occurs, from 3:26 on

"Uh, yeah, that works, I guess. Anyone else? 'Cause this is a purty big dragon I'm tryin' to kill."

Tirin sat at the bar drinking profusely for minutes which felt like hours, shaking with suppressed anger as he realized that the so-called Master of Time and Space wouldn't be making an appearance. The coward. Finally he stood, returning his subjective timerate to normal and undoing the alcohol dissipation those "hours" had wrought, leaving himself quite drunk.

He turned to the old fuck who'd just barged into the bar and greeted him with a forced smile. "I'm'n adventurer, old man. Besta the best. Whatcha need me t'do?"

"Yes, yes, good, yer exactly the kinda feller I'm lookin' for! Welcome aboard, uh, teal guy."

The fairy stayed silent. She was actually just here on vacation. Sure, she was better than most at fighting where she came from, but she hated to be stereotyped as an adventurer.

Old Man McGuffin turns to speak to Tilia despite her best efforts to look inconspicuous.
"Hey, little fairy. You look like the adventurin' type. Whatcha say?"