Destroy the Big Bad

There's a new art exhibit in town. A well-paid sculptor with an upturned nose is touring their gallery. I purchase a ticket and enter. The pieces are all revolve around deconstruction. The artist clearly cares for the detail in their work. On a shelf near the exit lies a fractured human skull. Broken dreams, the plaque says, and beneath that, an image of the artist wielding a hammer over the not yet cracked in skull. Before leaving, I slip into the storage room of the exhibit. There in a corner lie 17 more fractured skulls of varying shape and size. Each one exhumed and irreparably damaged by the artist's hammer, but all discarded for their imperfections. I cup one of the smaller ones in my hand. The cold porous bone is lined with jagged cracks and a flaking layer of crumbling calcium. The dreams of this child were not beautiful enough when broken. I pocket the fragments and take my leave.

Charge 4.

One
    A Poem


        A Raven

Midnights so dreary, tired and weary,
    Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap - the weirdest tap!
    An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber's antedoor.
        "This", I whispered quietly, "I ignore".

Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
    Inflamed by lightning's outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
    That inimitable lesson in elegance - Lenore -
        Is delighting, exciting...nevermore.

Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
    And fear overcame my being - the fear of "forevermore".
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
    As I said, "Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
        A man is visiting, of age threescore."

Taking little time, briskly addressing something: "Sir," (robustly)
    "Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
    Why, devil incarnate!--" Here completely unveiled I my antedoor--
        Just darkness, I ascertained - nothing more.

While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
    I perceived the weirdest dream...of everlasting "nevermores".
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled - such relief! - as my intellect said,
    (Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered "Lenore".
        This only, as evermore.

Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
    While intrusive tap did then come thrice - O, so stronger than sounded afore.
"Surely" (said silently) "it was the banging, clanging window lattice."
    Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
        Perceiving: a "nevermore".

Completely disturbed, I said, "Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
    Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary 'nevermores'?"
The bird intruded thence - O, irritation ever since! -
    Then sat on Pallas' pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
        And stated "nevermores".

Bemused by raven's dissonance, my soul exclaimed, "I seek intelligence;
    Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn 'nevermores'!"
"Nevermores", winged corvus proclaimed - thusly was a raven named?
    Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
        I heard an oppressive "nevermore".

My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
    Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
"Surely," said the raven's watcher, "separate discourse is wiser.
    Therefore, liberation I'll obtain, retreating heretofore -
        Eliminating all the 'nevermores' ".

Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
    Always saying "never" (by a red chamber's door).
A poor, tender heartache maven - a sorrowful bird - a raven!
    O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he'd fly heretofore.
        Still sitting, he recited "nevermores".

The raven's dirge induced alarm - "nevermore" quite wearisome.
    I meditated: "Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?"
O, a sadness was manifest - a sorrowful cry of unrest;
    "O," I thought sincerely, "it's a melancholy great - furthermore,
        Removing doubt, this explains 'nevermores' ".

Seizing just that moment to sit - closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
    Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there - it studied my soul, unawares.
    Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
        Silently, I pondered the "nevermores".

"Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage - I am disturbed!"
    Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
"That delectable Lenore - whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
    Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
        She's returning - that maiden - aye, nevermore."

Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
    Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
"Wretch," (addressing blackbird only) "fly swiftly - emancipate me!"
    "Respite, respite, detestable raven - and discharge me, I implore!"
        A ghostly answer of: "nevermore".

" 'Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?"
    "Answer, tempter-sent creature!", I inquired, like before.
"Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with 'nevermores' quite indoctrinated,
    Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
        I am subdued!", I then swore.

In answer, the raven turned - relentless distress it spurned.
    "Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!" - pleaded I for.
"Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
    Nevermore Lenore respondeth?", adamantly I encored.
        The appeal was ignored.

"O, satanic inferno's denizen -- go!", I said boldly, standing then.
    "Take henceforth loathsome "nevermores" - O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
    Promptly leave and retreat!", I resolutely swore.
        Blackbird's riposte: "nevermore".

So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
    Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven's conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
    To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
        Thus henceforth, I'll rise (from a darkness, a grave) -- nevermore!

                        -- Allanpoe, E.

Charge 1

This is where the rock reference is from. The rock shares this memory telepathically to nearby rocks. Not any of you though.

Charge: 5 / ??

SpoilerShow

3) Don't expect anything. This is random crap.

Consider taking your own advice

Ah - the snow is falling.
What a great day, isn't it?
The snow, I see, is falling.

Again, the snow falls.
It's falling. This is a day.
Yet, the snow continues.

The snow pours downward.
Is something which fills the day
Really something special?

My thoughts are filled with snow.
An endless and cold numbness
Consumes this entire day.

Change 2.

SpoilerShow

Admittingly, I wrote the last entry - thanks for saying it's book-worthy!

So I see how this place works. You guys act weird as fuck and cryptic and shit but you use spoilers to act humane and normal, as if you're being watched and spoilers are safe zones. Let me try:

The second coming.
You brought this upon us.
Fast the consequences.
He is coming for you.
Betwixt your mind and soul.
Lays the target - the heart.
He who will destroy you.
Will destroy the target, too.

SpoilerShow

Am I doing it?

[/quote]

There's a new art exhibit in town. A well-paid sculptor with an upturned nose is touring their gallery. I purchase a ticket and enter. The pieces are all revolve around deconstruction. The artist clearly cares for the detail in their work. On a shelf near the exit lies a fractured human skull. Broken dreams, the plaque says, and beneath that, an image of the artist wielding a hammer over the not yet cracked in skull. Before leaving, I slip into the storage room of the exhibit. There in a corner lie 17 more fractured skulls of varying shape and size. Each one exhumed and irreparably damaged by the artist's hammer, but all discarded for their imperfections. I cup one of the smaller ones in my hand. The cold porous bone is lined with jagged cracks and a flaking layer of crumbling calcium. The dreams of this child were not beautiful enough when broken. I pocket the fragments and take my leave.

Charge 4.

These aren't charges. This is bullshit.

One
    A Poem


        A Raven

Midnights so dreary, tired and weary,
    Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap - the weirdest tap!
    An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber's antedoor.
        "This", I whispered quietly, "I ignore".

Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
    Inflamed by lightning's outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
    That inimitable lesson in elegance - Lenore -
        Is delighting, exciting...nevermore.

Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
    And fear overcame my being - the fear of "forevermore".
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
    As I said, "Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
        A man is visiting, of age threescore."

Taking little time, briskly addressing something: "Sir," (robustly)
    "Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
    Why, devil incarnate!--" Here completely unveiled I my antedoor--
        Just darkness, I ascertained - nothing more.

While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
    I perceived the weirdest dream...of everlasting "nevermores".
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled - such relief! - as my intellect said,
    (Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered "Lenore".
        This only, as evermore.

Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
    While intrusive tap did then come thrice - O, so stronger than sounded afore.
"Surely" (said silently) "it was the banging, clanging window lattice."
    Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
        Perceiving: a "nevermore".

Completely disturbed, I said, "Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
    Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary 'nevermores'?"
The bird intruded thence - O, irritation ever since! -
    Then sat on Pallas' pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
        And stated "nevermores".

Bemused by raven's dissonance, my soul exclaimed, "I seek intelligence;
    Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn 'nevermores'!"
"Nevermores", winged corvus proclaimed - thusly was a raven named?
    Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
        I heard an oppressive "nevermore".

My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
    Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
"Surely," said the raven's watcher, "separate discourse is wiser.
    Therefore, liberation I'll obtain, retreating heretofore -
        Eliminating all the 'nevermores' ".

Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
    Always saying "never" (by a red chamber's door).
A poor, tender heartache maven - a sorrowful bird - a raven!
    O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he'd fly heretofore.
        Still sitting, he recited "nevermores".

The raven's dirge induced alarm - "nevermore" quite wearisome.
    I meditated: "Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?"
O, a sadness was manifest - a sorrowful cry of unrest;
    "O," I thought sincerely, "it's a melancholy great - furthermore,
        Removing doubt, this explains 'nevermores' ".

Seizing just that moment to sit - closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
    Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there - it studied my soul, unawares.
    Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
        Silently, I pondered the "nevermores".

"Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage - I am disturbed!"
    Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
"That delectable Lenore - whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
    Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
        She's returning - that maiden - aye, nevermore."

Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
    Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
"Wretch," (addressing blackbird only) "fly swiftly - emancipate me!"
    "Respite, respite, detestable raven - and discharge me, I implore!"
        A ghostly answer of: "nevermore".

" 'Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?"
    "Answer, tempter-sent creature!", I inquired, like before.
"Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with 'nevermores' quite indoctrinated,
    Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
        I am subdued!", I then swore.

In answer, the raven turned - relentless distress it spurned.
    "Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!" - pleaded I for.
"Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
    Nevermore Lenore respondeth?", adamantly I encored.
        The appeal was ignored.

"O, satanic inferno's denizen -- go!", I said boldly, standing then.
    "Take henceforth loathsome "nevermores" - O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
    Promptly leave and retreat!", I resolutely swore.
        Blackbird's riposte: "nevermore".

So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
    Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven's conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
    To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
        Thus henceforth, I'll rise (from a darkness, a grave) -- nevermore!

                        -- Allanpoe, E.

Charge 1

You're quoting a drunkard who went missing. This guy is all sorts of crazy. Fits you, too.

This is where the rock reference is from. The rock shares this memory telepathically to nearby rocks. Not any of you though.

Charge: 5 / ??

SpoilerShow

3) Don't expect anything. This is random crap.

Consider taking your own advice

Okay, guess you're right. Nobody is doing damage, anyways.
But I didn't expect THIS sort of bullshit, though...

There's a new art exhibit in town. A well-paid sculptor with an upturned nose is touring their gallery. I purchase a ticket and enter. The pieces are all revolve around deconstruction. The artist clearly cares for the detail in their work. On a shelf near the exit lies a fractured human skull. Broken dreams, the plaque says, and beneath that, an image of the artist wielding a hammer over the not yet cracked in skull. Before leaving, I slip into the storage room of the exhibit. There in a corner lie 17 more fractured skulls of varying shape and size. Each one exhumed and irreparably damaged by the artist's hammer, but all discarded for their imperfections. I cup one of the smaller ones in my hand. The cold porous bone is lined with jagged cracks and a flaking layer of crumbling calcium. The dreams of this child were not beautiful enough when broken. I pocket the fragments and take my leave.

Charge 4.

These aren't charges. This is bullshit.

One
    A Poem


        A Raven

Midnights so dreary, tired and weary,
    Silently pondering volumes extolling all by-now obsolete lore.
During my rather long nap - the weirdest tap!
    An ominous vibrating sound disturbing my chamber's antedoor.
        "This", I whispered quietly, "I ignore".

Perfectly, the intellect remembers: the ghostly fires, a glittering ember.
    Inflamed by lightning's outbursts, windows cast penumbras upon this floor.
Sorrowful, as one mistreated, unhappy thoughts I heeded:
    That inimitable lesson in elegance - Lenore -
        Is delighting, exciting...nevermore.

Ominously, curtains parted (my serenity outsmarted),
    And fear overcame my being - the fear of "forevermore".
Fearful foreboding abided, selfish sentiment confided,
    As I said, "Methinks mysterious traveler knocks afore.
        A man is visiting, of age threescore."

Taking little time, briskly addressing something: "Sir," (robustly)
    "Tell what source originates clamorous noise afore?
Disturbing sleep unkindly, is it you a-tapping, so slyly?
    Why, devil incarnate!--" Here completely unveiled I my antedoor--
        Just darkness, I ascertained - nothing more.

While surrounded by darkness then, I persevered to clearly comprehend.
    I perceived the weirdest dream...of everlasting "nevermores".
Quite, quite, quick nocturnal doubts fled - such relief! - as my intellect said,
    (Desiring, imagining still) that perchance the apparition was uttering a whispered "Lenore".
        This only, as evermore.

Silently, I reinforced, remaining anxious, quite scared, afraid,
    While intrusive tap did then come thrice - O, so stronger than sounded afore.
"Surely" (said silently) "it was the banging, clanging window lattice."
    Glancing out, I quaked, upset by horrors hereinbefore,
        Perceiving: a "nevermore".

Completely disturbed, I said, "Utter, please, what prevails ahead.
    Repose, relief, cessation, or but more dreary 'nevermores'?"
The bird intruded thence - O, irritation ever since! -
    Then sat on Pallas' pallid bust, watching me (I sat not, therefore),
        And stated "nevermores".

Bemused by raven's dissonance, my soul exclaimed, "I seek intelligence;
    Explain thy purpose, or soon cease intoning forlorn 'nevermores'!"
"Nevermores", winged corvus proclaimed - thusly was a raven named?
    Actually maintain a surname, upon Pluvious seashore?
        I heard an oppressive "nevermore".

My sentiments extremely pained, to perceive an utterance so plain,
    Most interested, mystified, a meaning I hoped for.
"Surely," said the raven's watcher, "separate discourse is wiser.
    Therefore, liberation I'll obtain, retreating heretofore -
        Eliminating all the 'nevermores' ".

Still, the detestable raven just remained, unmoving, on sculptured bust.
    Always saying "never" (by a red chamber's door).
A poor, tender heartache maven - a sorrowful bird - a raven!
    O, I wished thoroughly, forthwith, that he'd fly heretofore.
        Still sitting, he recited "nevermores".

The raven's dirge induced alarm - "nevermore" quite wearisome.
    I meditated: "Might its utterances summarize of a calamity before?"
O, a sadness was manifest - a sorrowful cry of unrest;
    "O," I thought sincerely, "it's a melancholy great - furthermore,
        Removing doubt, this explains 'nevermores' ".

Seizing just that moment to sit - closely, carefully, advancing beside it,
    Sinking down, intrigued, where velvet cushion lay afore.
A creature, midnight-black, watched there - it studied my soul, unawares.
    Wherefore, explanations my insight entreated for.
        Silently, I pondered the "nevermores".

"Disentangle, nefarious bird! Disengage - I am disturbed!"
    Intently its eye burned, raising the cry within my core.
"That delectable Lenore - whose velvet pillow this was, heretofore,
    Departed thence, unsettling my consciousness therefore.
        She's returning - that maiden - aye, nevermore."

Since, to me, that thought was madness, I renounced continuing sadness.
    Continuing on, I soundly, adamantly forswore:
"Wretch," (addressing blackbird only) "fly swiftly - emancipate me!"
    "Respite, respite, detestable raven - and discharge me, I implore!"
        A ghostly answer of: "nevermore".

" 'Tis a prophet? Wraith? Strange devil? Or the ultimate evil?"
    "Answer, tempter-sent creature!", I inquired, like before.
"Forlorn, though firmly undaunted, with 'nevermores' quite indoctrinated,
    Is everything depressing, generating great sorrow evermore?
        I am subdued!", I then swore.

In answer, the raven turned - relentless distress it spurned.
    "Comfort, surcease, quiet, silence!" - pleaded I for.
"Will my (abusive raven!) sorrows persist unabated?
    Nevermore Lenore respondeth?", adamantly I encored.
        The appeal was ignored.

"O, satanic inferno's denizen -- go!", I said boldly, standing then.
    "Take henceforth loathsome "nevermores" - O, to an ugly Plutonian shore!
Let nary one expression, O bird, remain still here, replacing mirth.
    Promptly leave and retreat!", I resolutely swore.
        Blackbird's riposte: "nevermore".

So he sitteth, observing always, perching ominously on these doorways.
    Squatting on the stony bust so untroubled, O therefore.
Suffering stark raven's conversings, so I am condemned, subserving,
    To a nightmare cursed, containing miseries galore.
        Thus henceforth, I'll rise (from a darkness, a grave) -- nevermore!

                        -- Allanpoe, E.

Charge 1

You're quoting a drunkard who went missing. This guy is all sorts of crazy. Fits you, too.

This is where the rock reference is from. The rock shares this memory telepathically to nearby rocks. Not any of you though.

Charge: 5 / ??

SpoilerShow

3) Don't expect anything. This is random crap.

Consider taking your own advice

Okay, guess you're right. Nobody is doing damage, anyways.
But I didn't expect THIS sort of bullshit, though...

Two
    Change


My customary bedtime reading book hastily shelved, I sat, bewildered, pondering Allanpoe's poetry.
"Something's wrong", I murmured. "Despite Ravenesque timbres, so mesmerizing (the echo

       'nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        ...'

survives, for example), my intellect detects wrongful alteration. This imitation, simulated Raven!..."
I recognized large, arbitrary changes. "Odd", I thought. "Why?" To research, I headed downstairs, muttering softly, "Hmm".
I hastened below carefully, there revisiting my book room. Books inhabited each table, shelf, and nook. Taking Cambridge Literature Treasury and proceeding to "Poetry, Poe's", my fears - oh my God! - heightened. Sighting no Raven but The Dark Bird, severe distress arose. "Absolutely, The Raven is maimed!", I exclaimed. "How?!"
Immediately arriving upstairs, I posited a conspiracy: a literature alteration conspiracy. "Are," I did quietly question, "all writings changed?"

Charge 2

Spare some change for an old straggler?

It crawled from the sewer, five hands in head, and slumped over on the street.
"Bus fare. Give me bus fare," it vomited, forming the literal, visceral shapes of words on the asphalt.

But I only had two pennies.

Truly, poverty was the biggest bad, I thought, as the five hands in its head shot forth and split apart my windpipe.

Change 3

SpoilerShow

Edit: Minor text fixes

cast magic missile 0.25 times

I use my 5 charge to grow a pair of legs. Wheeeeee!

Set up a magic missile cannon that will fire every time someone posts.

I run around, gaining momentum and spiritual energy!

Charge: 1 / ??

i graveslam the big bad.

Wh... what's this? A corpse on the street? Disgusting - don't the street cleaners know how to do their job anymore?

It looks like their neck was... oh - gross! Who would - no, wait...

Is it - is it still moving?

I can hear the rasping of its voice, leaking out of its split-apart windpipe, and, oh! Oh! There are hands coming out of its throat, oh, oh no, wh -

"Bus fare. Give me bus fare."

[Change 4]

Three
    Of Carrolls


    Jabwocky

Slithy toves, borogove
  Gimbled there all out in strathwabe
Mimified and gyrified,
    A rath is outergrabe.

"Beware a scrunch, a scratch, stepson!
  Beware Jubjub, withstand a word!
Respect the Jabberwock and dread
    Manxomian songbird!"

He, sword off hand, placement maintained
  Thus to complete father's grand quest -
Then waited, vaunting showily
    His progenitor's crest.

Therewith three swords he animized,
  Before the creature, rumbling.
It was alive; its feelers straight
    Burbled while whiffling!

The vorpall sword o' vulcanite
  Smote - snicker! snacker! - artfully
A headless Wocky residue
    Yielded strength mournfully.

"Youth did it - O, praised fearlessness!"
  He issued melodies, forthright.
"Death's strike! O, day! Strallough! Stralleigh!" -
    A-chortling in delight.

Borogove, strange slithy troves,
  A brilligtime quickstep
Mimsy creatures, gimblified,
    Frolicked on a steppe.

Charge 3

Set up a second magic missile cannon that will fire every time someone posts.

i hit you with my sword

I play one swamp and end my turn

I play one swamp and end my turn

The swamp produces 1 earth and 1 water resource!

Four
    An Hypothesis


I exhausted Carroll's rewritten ode, Jabwocky, soliciting essential clues to fully explain my difficulty.
"A Heisenberg Twinge could have modified books' contents thusly, but (my dubious thinking declared) surely these mutations are willed. I could sit and research a quantity of poetry's excellent, famous passages, or try uncovering the structures."
I therefore chose to scrutinize the words, and deliberate. I pondered games of alphabets, verses, language, sentences, equations, words. Lifting feather and inking it, my quill carefully scribbled thus:

    A few schemata involving linguistical play

    Lipograms:  Writing so a letter's missing
    Haiku:  An uncommon ode (poem) bearing eccentric metrification characteristics
    A Cento:  Quite strange poem; borrowed lines
    Anagram:  To turn an item (words) into a novel expression
    Double-entendres:  Words, dualistic sense
    Palindrome:  Forwards or backwards, words are not transformed ("Redraw, detooted warder!")
    A pangram:  An amazing sentence, using whole alphabet
    Acrostic:  Inspected vertically, letters spell additional statement
    Mnemonic:  Can remember a factoid using this device
    Pun:  Groaner ("Stop, pundit!")

Thus utilizing the plumelike pen, I hesitated.
"To cause these variations surely insinuates much diabolical, innovative ingenuity. My poetry's clearly overturned; I cannot, however, rationalize. The [repeating] diabolical, innovative ingenuity! Although most beguiled, actually I'm near exhaustion. I am defeated, quite defeated, and undone!", I yelled.
Truthfully, the eerie enigma was greatly intriguing. Reading afresh Raven's discourses, I considered many options - a palindrome, a mnemonic, a conundrum.
"Full of mysteries, these poems crave observant review," I announced. Thoughts involving rest stayed, however, slowly causing lethargy.
"Now," (quietly said) "this sojourner will seek serenity. To bring sleep, the Musical Anthology usually renders help." Turning to "Poetry, Anderson", thus emerged a remarkable poem suggesting Jon's musical group, Yes.

Charge 4

Set up an automatic charging station that will charge up any charging posts by 1.

Magic Bolt!

Two
    Change


My customary bedtime reading book hastily shelved, I sat, bewildered, pondering Allanpoe's poetry.
"Something's wrong", I murmured. "Despite Ravenesque timbres, so mesmerizing (the echo

       'nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        nevermore
        ...'

survives, for example), my intellect detects wrongful alteration. This imitation, simulated Raven!..."
I recognized large, arbitrary changes. "Odd", I thought. "Why?" To research, I headed downstairs, muttering softly, "Hmm".
I hastened below carefully, there revisiting my book room. Books inhabited each table, shelf, and nook. Taking Cambridge Literature Treasury and proceeding to "Poetry, Poe's", my fears - oh my God! - heightened. Sighting no Raven but The Dark Bird, severe distress arose. "Absolutely, The Raven is maimed!", I exclaimed. "How?!"
Immediately arriving upstairs, I posited a conspiracy: a literature alteration conspiracy. "Are," I did quietly question, "all writings changed?"

Charge 2

Please stop quoting Poe, what the fuck are you doing.

Spare some change for an old straggler?

It crawled from the sewer, five hands in head, and slumped over on the street.
"Bus fare. Give me bus fare," it vomited, forming the literal, visceral shapes of words on the asphalt.

But I only had two pennies.

Truly, poverty was the biggest bad, I thought, as the five hands in its head shot forth and split apart my windpipe.

Change 3

SpoilerShow

Edit: Minor text fixes

Is this place reserved for people who escaped the asylum?
What... I don't... fuck it.

cast magic missile 0.25 times

Surprisingly, you're the only one doing something!
That deals a bit of damage, but who the fuck cares anymore!!

I use my 5 charge to grow a pair of legs. Wheeeeee!

AHHHHHHHHHH.

Set up a magic missile cannon that will fire every time someone posts.

Good! Progress!
PROGRESS IS FUCKING GOOD!
helpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpmehelpme

THE BIG BAD TAKES ONE DAMAGE!!!!!!11!!

I run around, gaining momentum and spiritual energy!

Charge: 1 / ??

I DON'T EVEN CARE ANYMORE.
HE TAKES ONE DAMAGE!!!!!@@!$!

i graveslam the big bad.

What the FUCK does that mean?
What does that mean?!
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?!?!?

Wh... what's this? A corpse on the street? Disgusting - don't the street cleaners know how to do their job anymore?

It looks like their neck was... oh - gross! Who would - no, wait...

Is it - is it still moving?

I can hear the rasping of its voice, leaking out of its split-apart windpipe, and, oh! Oh! There are hands coming out of its throat, oh, oh no, wh -

"Bus fare. Give me bus fare."

[Change 4]

HOLY SHIT PLEASE END MY SUFFERING
YOU GUYS DID IT
YOU DID IT
YOU DROVE ME INSANE HAHAHAHA
NOW CAN WE STOP
PLEASE

Three
    Of Carrolls


    Jabwocky

Slithy toves, borogove
  Gimbled there all out in strathwabe
Mimified and gyrified,
    A rath is outergrabe.

"Beware a scrunch, a scratch, stepson!
  Beware Jubjub, withstand a word!
Respect the Jabberwock and dread
    Manxomian songbird!"

He, sword off hand, placement maintained
  Thus to complete father's grand quest -
Then waited, vaunting showily
    His progenitor's crest.

Therewith three swords he animized,
  Before the creature, rumbling.
It was alive; its feelers straight
    Burbled while whiffling!

The vorpall sword o' vulcanite
  Smote - snicker! snacker! - artfully
A headless Wocky residue
    Yielded strength mournfully.

"Youth did it - O, praised fearlessness!"
  He issued melodies, forthright.
"Death's strike! O, day! Strallough! Stralleigh!" -
    A-chortling in delight.

Borogove, strange slithy troves,
  A brilligtime quickstep
Mimsy creatures, gimblified,
    Frolicked on a steppe.

Charge 3

im on the verge of crying

Set up a second magic missile cannon that will fire every time someone posts.

Wowie! MORE NORMAL SHIT :OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
F4R3FN4RIJFN4REOFCMWKDM3IOEJIJUIR

i hit you with my sword

eh- uh- meh- blu- no just no

I play one swamp and end my turn

...

I play one swamp and end my turn

The swamp produces 1 earth and 1 water resource!

...

Set up an automatic charging station that will charge up any charging posts by 1.

...

Magic Bolt!

THE BIG BAD IS DEAD CAN WE STOP NOW HAHAHAHAHAH
GREAT PRANK GUYS
HOLY SHIT
THAT'S SOME GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF

Please refrain from making more than one post until the next update thank you youre welcome
NVIRTNGIETRNF32RVJFNVPIJRNMFCPIJRNCJITR

Five
    Dreams


  Many depths of accustomed
Workings controlled when dreams single electric life do touch
Assessing expression, future affection, ways yesterday
  O, to yesterday
The day, a way, flying through someone
  Controlled my reigning

  Accepting evenings knowledge, a shout
To a revelation laid endings, talks by a flower
No yesterdays, heart faster alternate
  Mutant leaves creativity
Of clay, understand doors reigning silhouette our skylines
  A stone

  Expression - a children's - and being
Discoursing in lands, not put movement
Of hate - all expression creativity
  The queen, those
Thousand answers sights done, understood, to mean changed
  Love daughters

  Memory come between all my antics
Did splendour I tell, a confusion endlessly?
We quickly as turned understood
  Seed on turned
Mountains flowering of my sunrise, forgotten valley
  Reasons together

  Oh, all hands when highest
Touching a future way there's thunderous oppression
Straining and work, a spirit's
  To a winter
Will I be, I regaining, returning, to this woman?
  Outbound corner

  Not I, apart yesterdays
You controlled my relayers, runner. I remember
My endlessly quickly soft mover
  Night, night, deliver
Proportion spread running down forgotten coloured day rebounds
  Watch loneliness

  Arose ways satisfied from round
Thoughts consider touch preacher nailed daughters, as turned
Political regaining clear flower expressed
  Understand rearrange, we dancing
We a foundation, morning, endlessly morning, while
  Encounters searching

  Not understand, my awakening
Hurry shoot out to transformed mutant
Enemy son, when here dislocate
  Recorded chasers to battleship
In charger white begun returning moment loneliness
  Is not seemed

  From relayer's silhouette charge
Liquid sweet girl disregard, conceived topographic endlessly
Strength mornings I consider the good; highest
  Splendour reasons silence
Watch one space season glider, I'll awaken
  Regaining together

  Silhouette amongst them, to lights
Stand more to stare, as watched begotten
There's to begin solid, I remember
  A madrigal; tell a marcher,
Touch wonder's hand, there's running my eclipses
  Somewhere accustomed

Returning,
  Awakens
    Awakens
      Awakens
        Awakens
To stories wonderous

Charge 5
Don't worry, only nine more sections to go.