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Bored. Want chaos. Speed equalized, strongest 9-B for both.
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The World's Greatest Detective but not batma: 3
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Range isn't potency. If the move isn't 1-A in potency, he'll resist just fine.The Wright Way said:Taylor can't resist Reader's BFR, nor can he come back from it, as it's 1-A in range.
from Nightingale's Lament |
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She stretched slowly, voluptuous beyond reason. "Don't you want me, John? I can be anyone you ever wanted, and you can do things with me you wouldn't dare do with them. I live for pleasure, and my flesh is very accommodating." "No." I made myself say it, even though the effort brought beads of sweat out on my face. I learned self-discipline early, just to stay alive. And I was used to not getting what I wanted. But it still took everything I had to stay where I was. "I need ... to talk to you, Sylvia. About the Cavendishes." "Oh, I don't think about them any more. I don't care about the outside world. I have made my own little world here, and it is perfect. I never leave it. I glory in it. Have you come here to tell me of the Nightside? Is it still full of sin? How long has it been, since I came here?" "Just over a year," I said, taking a step forward. "Is that all? It feels like centuries to me. But then time passes so slowly, in Heaven and Hell." I took another step forward. Her body called to my body, in a voice as old as the world. I knew it would cost me my life and my soul, and I didn't care. Except some small part of me, screaming deep within me, still did care. So I did the only thing I could do, to save myself. I called up my gift, my power, and looked at Sylvia Sin with my third eye, my private eye. I used my gift to find the woman she used to be, before the Cavendishes changed her, and brought her back. Sylvia screamed, convulsing on the bed, her white flesh boiling and seething, then one shape snapped into focus, one body rising suddenly out of all the others, and the changes stopped. Sylvia lay on the bed, curled up into a ball, breathing hard. One woman, with flesh-coloured flesh and a pretty, ordinary face. I was breathing hard, too, like a man who'd just stepped back from the very brink of a cliff. The overpowering sexual pressure was gone from the room, though faint vestiges of its presence still lingered on the air. Sylvia sat up slowly on the bed, naked and normal, and looked at me with merely human eyes. "What did you do? What have you done to me?" "I've given you back yourself," I said. "You're free now. Entirely normal." |
from The Bride Wore Black Leather |
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I concentrated, raising my gift again, using it to study the reality of the thing before me, opening up my inner eye, my private eye, to See the world as it really is. And then I almost dropped the shard as I realised what it was I was holding. "What?" Bettie said excitedly. "What did you See?" "Temporal energies," I said. "This mirror shard is soaked in Time, in Time magic. I can actually see inverted tachyons, shooting up and down the broken edges." Bettie gave me a hard look, only slightly spoiled by her pouting mouth. "Yes, very nice, darling, very dramatic. But what does that mean?" "It means, I know what mirror this came from," I said, pulling a handkerchief from my pocket and carefully wrapping up the vicious-edged shard before tucking it very carefully into my coat pocket. |
The thing which John gets his resistance from is...a little less simple than that. It comes from being unaffected by a flux fog, which works like this:The Wright Way said:However, I do have criticisms. I have given examples of Reader using his BFR against people who can stop BFR.
from The Good, the Bad and the Uncanny |
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Everything looks blurred and out of focus in a flux fog because you're seeing a dozen different dimensions, a hundred possibilities, for every object or person or direction. People and places can change subtly even as you approach them; familiar faces can become strangers, and in the blink of an eye you're trapped in a world that never knew you. The only real defence against a flux fog is not to be there when one manifests. |