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Found 60 results

  1. I made a list! Of Epics! Their names, powers (if known), weaknesses, whether they had prime invincibility, whether they were able to Gift, and any possibly significant notes. I'm not completely done yet--Went through Steelheart, and partway through Firefight. I forgot to look through Mitosis, so I'll do that after Firefight. Work in progress, please point out mistakes! https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1o7757LlkTY0abA4zOqjy62rcJhTHFihIareANxa1YPo/edit?usp=sharing
  2. Is anyone else getting the feeling that Fortnite is about to be hit by Calamity with the new skin teasings? Especially if they are bad and we have to save the world. I wouldn't mind a pair of tensors to turn my enemies structures to dust.
  3. I can be a bit short and cranky at times ...as can we all I suppose...but now I have a great excuse ( that no one I know will understand but it will be funny to see their reaction) I will say I just used my superpowers and that makes me cranky!!!
  4. Hi guys! I'm really curious about the mobiles that everyone uses. It seems like a phone, only more sturdier and with more features. Anyone have any theories as to what it really is? I know it has some kind of screen and that it could attach to your arm or shoulder, but what else do we know about them?
  5. Hey guys! I'm currently working on a Fan comic for The Reckoners. It's an aftermath story for Calamity. It's called Absolution and I hope you guys take a chance to read it,and enjoy it. If you like it, please tell me your thoughts, Plot: Tavi Phaedrus has become very uneasy since the fight with Obliteration. For months, She's not eating much, she's become restless, and becomes extremely jumpy. She remembers clearly on what happened during the battle. She was brought into David's world to fight Limelight, a version of her father, and nearly died because of it. She now worries that he will find a way to finish the fight she was dragged into . Prof also has a hard time living with himself. After all the horrible things he's done, he finds it hard to accept it all. He does everything he can to avoid his powers. He doesn't want to hurt his closest friends more than he already did. In doing so, he slowly grows more distant. After an alliance is made between the two dimensions, the two meet. Again. Can the two Epics learn to work together. Can they do that whilst two Epic plan a way to destroy New Cago?
  6. Hi folks, new guy here. Originally from Pakistan but living in Saudia for past half a decade. I was not much aware of English fantasy/fiction culture and had only read the mainstream and famous work (Tolkien, C.S Lewis, J.K Rowling, Dan Brown etc. ) and I thought there was not much more to it to interest me. Then few years ago I stumbled upon article on io9 about the upcoming books, one of them was steelheart with a cool trailer. Then saw bunch of guys praising Brandon Sanderson in the comments for how awesomely he finished WoT after Robert Jordan's passing. Naturally I had no idea about them or the books, but it conveyed the idea that WoT must be some good stuff for them to think of Brandon Sanderson in that way. So I immediately started that and within a couple of months or so I binge-read through WoT and was totally blown away by how awesomely and with honesty Brandon Sanderson finished the work of a different author, felt even a little guilty for feeling that maybe Brandon Sanderson did a better job than Robert Jordan, as it was very easy to lose track or sometimes get annoyed when the PoV monologue or description etc. seemingly went on forever with Robert jordan in some cases. Since then I have read almost all of Brandon Sanderson's work, and I am thankful to him, Robert Jordan and Naomi Novik (I stumbled upon her Temeraire series couple of months before WoT on io9), these reintroduced me or rather properly indoctrinated me into fantasy scene. p.s: pardon my grammar and stuff. English isn't my 1st or even 2nd language.
  7. Funny how Brandon seems to be coming out with multiple books set in alternate earths. Funny how the inherit magic systems seem to be both evil, and soft magic. Funny how he claims that both are non-cosmere. This seems like an awfully large COINCIDENCE and you know what they say about COINCIDENCES? "It takes an awful lot of work to make a coincidence" - Winston Churchill (probably) Perhaps this has some connection to this mysterious "Adolnasium Opposing Force"? Anybody think I'm on to something; or that this theory is the work of 999 monkeys in a room with a typewriter?
  8. This thread is now closed to Epic characters, though anyone is welcome to adopt a non-Epic player character. This is not as lame as it sounds. Being a town run by normal humans, The Dalles arguably presents more opportunities for non-Epic characters. Besides, if you join as an Epic, your character will either join one of two gangs trying to conquer the city, work for the City Guard, or be shot on sight. Your options are kind of limited there. If you're set on adopting an Epic, check out the Salem thread. Late November, two years ago Koschei the Deathless marched into the farmhouse, pistol in hand, purple cloak billowing behind him. Snowflakes fell, catching on his cloak and sticking in his hair, and he irritably pulled up the hood. Barrett Springfield had betrayed him. A hole in his stomach and a slit throat, and he had chosen a killing shot for Haze over a wound for his brother. When he ordered Haze and Headshot into the farmhouse, Koschei had been certain their mortal wounds would keep the Springfields firmly under his thumb. Yet Barrett had betrayed. Two mortal wounds, and he still betrayed. Koschei wished, not for the first time, that he could raise the dead. Were he graced with this gift, he would have raised Barrett a dozen times to kill him again and again. He slammed the door open. “What do we have?” Two vanillas knelt in the living room, hands behind their heads as Headshot held a pistol to each of their skulls. Tank had a dark-haired toddler in pink pajamas folded in his arms, who let out a wail the moment she spotted the newcomer. Koschei winced. “Shut her up, will you?” “Just calm down, Gloria,” her mother cooed. Her own voice was thick with tears. “Please, sweetie, just stop crying. Everything’s going to be fine.” Gloria’s wail increased in volume. Tears flowed down her mother’s cheeks as her father added his voice in a desperate attempt to comfort her. The noise, the voices, the tears—it pounded at his skull, tearing through his resolve, he had to do something quickly or he would shoot them all and be down a family— Koschei’s revolver was trained on the child in a heartbeat. “Shut her up or I’ll shut her up for good!” Her parents fell silent. Even Gloria ceased her wailing, easing into a low, pitiful whimper. “Please,” her mother pleaded. Her voice was soft now, wavering. “Please, don’t shoot her. We’ll do anything you want.” Her father swallowed. “I’ll tell you where we keep the weapons. The code to the safe. Anything.” Wheels turned in Koschei’s mind. His Epics had little need of weapons at the moment, though they would certainly be a boon, and Tank could simply tear the door off the safe. If this man was willing to give him the code, it meant he was breaking. He lowered his revolver. “Tell me the code.” He rattled off a string of numbers, which Koschei committed to memory. “It’s in our closet. Second door down the hall. Ammo’s there, too.” “Set Gloria on the floor,” he told Tank, “and see if they’re telling the truth.” He returned a moment later with the safe in his arms. Koschei entered the code and opened the door to half a dozen rifles with an adequate supply of ammunition. His smile was genuine. “Thank you,” he told the father, “for telling the truth.” The man relaxed slightly. “Come here, Gloria. Come here and sit with Papa.” “Tank, bring Gloria to me.” “You have the guns,” her mother said pleadingly. Frantically. “We gave you what you wanted, and you said you wouldn’t hurt her.” Ignoring her, Koschei holstered his pistol. Tank carried a squirming, kicking Gloria to where he stood. “Tilt her head back.” He did so. “You have the guns.” There was no demanding note in his voice. No anger. Only fear. “You said you’d leave her alone.” “I said nothing of the sort.” “Please!” Her mother’s whisper was frantic and urgent. “We’ll do anything!” Koschei paused to give the couple a smile, drawing a dagger from his belt. “I know you will.” One quick slice and he slit the child’s throat. Screams. Pleas. Koschei calmly placed his hand over the wound. The edges drew together. Blood ceased flowing onto his palm. The screams fell silent. “Your Gloria will live,” Koschei told the couple, sheathing his knife and taking a cloth from his pocket. He wiped the blood from his hand as he faced them. “Provided you do as I say. For what I give….” He wiped the blood from her throat and withdrew a small amount of the power he had given. A short, narrow red line appeared on her throat, drawing a frantic whimper. “I can also take away.” Koschei regarded the couple for a long moment, struck by the contrast between them and the Springfields. Where that family had glared from the moment they were healed to the moment Koschei named the price of his gift, this couple stared. Not in outrage. Not in shock. Only terror. The woman bit her lower lip, sobbing quietly, not daring to avert her gaze from Gloria. Her husband’s eyes flickered from Koschei to his daughter. Perhaps there was a spark of anger, but it died the second Koschei touched his knife. A smile curved his lips. These people were broken. Thoroughly broken. And he owned them.
  9. This thread is closed to new Epics, but is open to new non-Epic characters. If you want to join as a non-Epic, but aren't sure about how they can become involved in the plot, post your request in the latest Question thread and we'll help you. When Nathan Sperry woke with a pounding headache, blinking in the torchlight, he knew exactly where he was. Fear banished the lingering effects of the drug. Several sensations came to him all at once—a wooden table beneath him, too-thin cloth shielding his body from the chill, the taste of cloth in his mouth, the something pinning his wrists and ankles. A few frantic glances confirmed what he already knew. Thick leather straps held his wrists and ankles down. His mouth was tied with a gag. A thin white robe covered him. And the table belonged to Fortuity. The second Fortuity had signaled to him at the casino, he’d known something terrible would happen—and when he turned from his woman of the week long enough to ask his name, Nathan knew he was a dead man. There was no point in running. Not from Fortuity. Not from an Epic who would know his steps before he took them. There had been nothing to do but retreat to the kitchen and sink to the floor in a shaking heap. Nothing else but to listen as the news was bounced from server to cook to server and nod mutely as they cried and hugged him and said he’d be missed. Nathan gave his arm a tug, then another, but only succeeded in bruising his hand. The straps were tight, almost to the point of chafing, but not quite. Fortuity didn’t want any distractions. “Don’t panic. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just take everything as it comes.” That was what his manager had said during the “What to Do if You Anger an Epic” portion of training. It wasn’t part of the official program, but she always carved out a few minutes for it. Don’t panic. Too late. Don’t get ahead of yourself. What was there to get ahead of? Just take everything as it comes. Nathan lay his head back and took a few breaths, slow and even as he could. His heart pounded—how much longer until it stopped? How long before breathing was impossible? And then what? Don’t get ahead of yourself. He had heard that severe trauma sometimes induced unconsciousness. That victims of violence occasionally—or was it often?—blacked out for the worst of it. Would that happen? Or would whatever drug he’d been given keep him aware until the end? Take each thing as it comes. The drug had worn off. Fortuity wanted him awake, and he wouldn’t risk further complications with more drugs. He would black out, and that was that. That was what he told himself, anyway. He heard a door slam shut, and his pulse quickened. His eyes smarted—but he blinked them away. He wouldn’t cry. He forced himself to listen instead. There were two voices, one Fortuity’s, and one female. He’d brought the woman back to his penthouse. Nathan tried to calculate what that meant. Did it mean more time to wait—or that his death would have an audience? Nathan thought back to the woman at the casino. She was pretty—all of Fortuity’s women were pretty—but she wasn’t dressed like most Newcago women. No flapper dress or cloche hat for her. This one had worn a dress of fluffy black tulle and knee-length silk, dyed all the colors of the rainbow and then some. A thick wool sweater, black with multicolored ribbons woven throughout, hung off the back of her chair. Her black hair had been like her eyes: sparkling, though due more to the presence of glitter than that of mischief. Not once had she stopped smiling. An Epic. She would want to watch. As if on cue, she spoke, her voice muffled by the thick wooden door. “Where’s Nathan?” Fortuity laughed, a low, growling sort of laugh that froze Nathan’s breath in his lungs. “He’s right in here, doll.” “Is that the bathroom?” Fortuity paused. “Uh—sure is. But you don’t really—“ There was a scuffle. There was a slam. There was Fortuity’s shout of anger. “And now you’re in there! See ya!” Fortuity pounded on the door. Nathan couldn’t make out his words, but he could guess. The woman giggled. “Have fun with the doorknob!” More growling—and a yelp of surprise. What did she do to the doorknob? Nathan didn’t have time to wonder. In a moment, he heard her running—no, skipping—toward the door, his door. “I’m gonna go find Na-than, I’m gonna go find Na-than,” she sang. Nathan’s mouth went dry. If he had to choose death by Fortuity or death by a giggling singer—he wasn’t sure which he’d choose, but the former seemed slightly less nightmarish. She knocked on the door. “Yoo-hoo! Nathan!” For the first time that night, Nathan was grateful for the gag. She giggled again. “Ready or not, here I come!” One more knock and the door vanished, sending a sheet of something rippling and transparent crumpling to the floor. The Epic jumped and clapped her hands. “I found you! Yay! We’re going to have so much fun!” Nathan couldn’t have said a word had he wanted to. With another small jump, she landed on what had been the door, causing a series of loud pops. Bubble wrap. She had turned the door into bubble wrap. Nathan watched as Fortuity’s date pranced over the bubble wrap in light-up socks and mismatched Converse, her giggles blending with Fortuity’s shouting and banging. Too soon, she was at his side. With another giggle, she crouched beside the table so their faces were level. She had brown eyes, very big and full of mischief. He’d rather think it mischief than malice. “Hi there. I’m Doctor Funtimes. Do you wanna join my party?” The words of his manager returned. “Always give an Epic what they want. Don’t ever tell them no—unless there’s a more powerful one standing by.” Fortuity wanted to cut him open. Doctor Funtimes wanted a party—which could very well involve the same. She had locked Fortuity in the bathroom with a malicious doorknob. Nathan nodded. Doctor Funtimes gasped, jumped in place and clapped her hands. “Yay! I love parties! I throw good parties.” Nathan watched her, frozen where he was. Any second now she would wrap her hand around that ceremonial dagger lying on a nearby pedestal and…. She snapped her fingers. The leather straps dissolved into confetti. There was still something in his mouth, but the gag was no longer pressing on his cheeks. He tasted sugar. Nathan sat up, lifted his hand, and spat out a brownie. “Try it,” Doctor Funtimes said. “They’re nummy.” Nummy? She giggled, clapping her hands again. “Let’s go find that poo-poo head! He’s fun.” Nummy? “Come on!” She pranced around the table, took his hand, and helped him off. Nathan had no time to process the sensation of walking out of his own tomb, let alone while clutching a brownie with bubble wrap popping against his bare feet. Doctor Funtimes danced onward, dragging him along until she stopped at the nearest door and knocked. “For-TU-i-ty!” she sang. “I found something!” He heard the crack of gunfire, and the cry of something dying. “You put him back where he was!” “Nah, I think I’ll keep him.” She snapped her fingers again and, to Nathan’s horror, the bathroom door became a curtain of beaded gumballs. “Look at him! Isn’t he fun?” Fortuity tore a handful of strings down when a gumball hit him in the eye and threw it on the floor, leveling his revolver at Doctor Funtimes. Nathan instinctively ducked behind her. “You listen to me,” he said, his voice soft with barely-restrained rage. “You put my penthouse back the way it was, you put him back where he was, and I’ll shoot you. I’ll just shoot you. Got it?” It was a generous offer, but Doctor Funtimes giggled. “Nah, he looks neat. Toodles!” Another gunshot tore through the air. Nathan fell to the ground, hands over his head, bracing himself for the sound of Doctor Funtimes’ body hitting the floor. Instead, she giggled. Nathan looked up and saw her holding something small and square. Two more gunshots. A crouton hit the floor. Doctor Funtimes jumped and clapped her hands. “Ooh, ooh, throw a grenade this time! I wanna make a salad!” Fortuity growled and reached into his pocket—presumably for another bullet—but he never reloaded. Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers, and his gun became a hamster. “What the—?” He swore vilely at Doctor Funtimes, throwing the hamster. She caught it with a shocked gasp. “Fortuity!” She may as well have admonished an ill-behaved child. “We do not throw Mister Hamsterface! We hold him and pet him and love him!” She cradled the hamster in her arms to demonstrate. “But you—he—he’s a hamster!” “And he wants you to respect his life choices.” “He’s a hamster! No—he’s my gun! Give me my gun back!” She stuck out her tongue. “Give—ah!” Growling again, he drew another revolver, bringing the barrel level with Nathan’s leg. “You turn that thing back into a gun, or I’ll shoot him. Won’t kill him—oh, no. That’s for later. You’ll get to watch me take your little friend apart piece by piece.” “Nathan or Mister Hamsterface?” “Both.” A bullet clicked into place. “Now. Put the hamster on the floor, and step away.” Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers. Fortuity’s fedora leaped from his head, growling savagely. Once on the floor, it took ahold of his cape and gave a tug much mightier than Nathan expected from a walking hat, yanking Fortuity back a step. “What the—“ He tugged back, but he was already losing ground to his hat. “This—doesn’t—even—make—sense!” Doctor Funtimes laughed. “Catch me if you can, meanieface!” She grasped Nathan’s arm, and Fortuity’s penthouse vanished. The last of the late-night traffic whipped past. Few pedestrians were out, but those that were stopped in their tracks to stare. Cold night wind cut through his white robe, pulling it taut around his legs. He danced from foot to foot on the frozen steel. “Now let’s see,” Doctor Funtimes said, her steps echoing hollowly as she walked a few paces down the sidewalk. “He parked his car right….over….aha!” More staring. An Enforcement officer spied him from across the street and frowned. Not one of Fortuity’s victims had ever escaped before, but it had to be a crime. Denying Epics what they wanted was a felony. “Doctor?” Nathan’s teeth had already begun to chatter. The officer signaled to one on their side of the street, who made his way toward them. “Hold your seahorses,” she said, and waved her hands broadly over a sleek black convertible with gleaming red leather seats. The convertible changed shape, rounding as its color lightened from black to golden brown. “Is there a problem here?” The Enforcement officer was still a good ten feet away, but he was well within firing range. Even if he wasn’t, no one could escape their radios. “There!” Doctor Funtimes skipped back to where he stood and indicated her handiwork. “Isn’t it pretty?” Fortuity’s car—his beloved convertible, the one he made all his women ooh and ah over—was now a giant metal hot dog on four wheels. Nathan didn’t know what to say. “Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you a few—“ If the officer finished his sentence, Nathan never heard it. Doctor Funtimes took his arm and, just like that, Newcago was gone.
  10. ...in which case the audience didn't, either. In the prologue of Steelheart, David describes Epic weaknesses thusly: By this definition, an Epic whose weakness is in effect should be unable to use their powers in any way whatsoever, as if they were no longer an Epic at all. Being attacked by or being in the presence of a person who does not fear him does not appear to have this effect on Steelheart. Although an attack from a person who does not fear him is shown to be able to bypass his defensive power, he is able to use his other abilities within seconds of suffering such an attack, as seen when he mortally wounds Blain Charleston with a super-strength-enhanced punch just after the latter's bullet grazes him. I suppose it is possible that Steelheart's other powers simply do not work while he is being attacked by someone who doesn't fear him, but upon consideration, another explanation presents itself. In Firefight, the Reckoners confront the Epic Sourcefield, whose weakness is Kool-Aid. While fighting her, David notices that different degrees of exposure to her weakness seem to affect her powers in different ways. Pouring it over one of her forcefields causes that particular field to disappear, and splashing it on her body causes her personal protective field to momentarily flicker and weaken. However, only when David removes her mouth guard and forces her to drink some do her powers shut down completely. Sourcefield's true weakness, the condition that makes her functionally an ordinary person, is drinking Kool-Aid; having it touch her body or her forcefields is what we might call a "pseudo-weakness", a related condition that dampens an Epic's powers but doesn't entirely stop them. Another example of this phenomenon is a major plot point in Calamity. So, if being attacked by someone who doesn't fear him is a pseudo-weakness for Steelheart, what might his true weakness be? Perhaps his powers would shut down if no one in the world, or at least no one within a certain distance of him, feared him at all? We will probably never know. (Does this post need to be in the Calamity subforum? It's not specifically about Calamity, but it does mention Calamity spoilers as part of its argument. Apologies if I've misplaced it.)
  11. From the album Alt Covers

  12. Hello everyone. This is my first post, so please correct me on beginner's mistakes. Also, please notify me if this topic has already been done. Anyway, lets get onto the topic. After reading Calamity (multiple times), I've started to wonder what Calamity is. It has the qualities of a Shard, but it isn't in the Shardworld system. So what is it? That's the topic of this discussion.
  13. Welcome to Hurt-and-Heal: Epics! If you've never played before, here's the rules: Each Epic starts with 5 HP. In each post of yours, choose 1 Epic to hurt for 1 HP and 1 to heal for 1 HP. In your post, please specify who you're hurting/healing and post an updated list with your choices bolded and numbers updated. You may post multiple times, but must wait for at least 10 minutes and 2 posts before you can post again. When only 2 Epics are left (or when the players want it), hurting increases potency to 2 HP The last Epic standing is victorious. For my turn, I Hurt Conflux and Heal Limelight. 1. Steelheart-5 2.Calamity-5 3. Firefight-5 4. Murkwood-5 5. Limelight-6 6. Conflux-4 7. Nightwielder-5 8. Fortuity-5 9. Obliteration-5 10. Regalia-5
  14. Yes, I know the Reckoners isn't Cosmere, but how powerful would a Mistborn, or even a Coinshot, be in Newcago, a city that entirely consists of metal? Would this actually be OP, or would all the metal blind them, similarly to throwing metal dust into an Inquisitor's face? Really random thought.
  15. Hello fellow Sharders, This is probably one of the stupidest ideas I've had in a fairly long time, so I'm deciding to post it. Luthadel is growing increasingly Earth-like. Automobiles, guns, etc, etc. Now, the Reckoners is also very Earthlike. Coincidence? I don't think so. Era 3 ending= Calamity appearing. Please don't hurt me.
  16. Hi! I started reading Brandon Sanderson's work several years ago after discovering Elantris. I think my favorite book is Warbreaker, and I wish it were in a series because I want more in that world.
  17. So at the end of Calamity, David's dad says the steel transfersion powers were a lot more usable than David thought. Any thoughts how?
  18. Nothing major here. I'm just trying to remember whether or not the name of David's father was ever said somewhere in the novels. For some reason I've had it lodged in my head that his father's name was "Jack Charleston" for a while now, but it's come to my attention that I have absolutely no canonical basis for this belief. Seriously. No canonical basis at all. Though I still think it fits. Any Reckoners fans with a better memory than mine care to enlighten me? Upvotes are waiting for you.
  19. Founder of the Reckoners, Prof Jonathan Phaedrus, drawn by me in good old-fashioned colored pencil. Original size: 9x12 inches.
  20. ...was right after Steelheart. Not in Firefight. Not in Calamity. Right after Steelheart, exemplified in Mitosis. Mitosis spoilers follow. Also a barely structured rant that few will be interested in. The people of Newcago are the oppressed peasant class to end all oppressed peasant classes. They labor day in and day out in factories making goods for their Epic overlords. A lot of them live underground in a place called the catacombs. THE CATACOMBS. However badly your neighborhood sucks, remember that you don't live in a place people call the steel catacombs. So yeah. Aside from the Morlocks that live short brutal lives in the steel sparkin' catacombs, the people on the surface have to live in fear of a random Epic stopping by and murdering them for the crime of being noticed. Or having their building being noticed if Steelheart decides to make a random example out of them. The ones on the surface might as well live underground because the sky is pitch black 24/7. They don't even see stars besides the big bloody bullet hole in the sky that is Calamity. There are a few living in a privileged upper class, that isn't very privileged when it comes to a slontze like Fortuity picking out his victims. A prince among cattle is still classed as cattle. Everyone in this city lives a squalid existence against a black sky and cold grey surroundings. There is no green in their lives. There is no sun. There is only the Epic behind you and the Epic in front of you, and your entire existence is trying not to be noticed between them. These are people who walk with their heads down because looking up gets you killed and there's nothing to look up to anyway. Bottom line? You'd have to fly out of the universe, hit the Cosmere, and head to Scadrial to find another group of people as downtrodden as these poor unfortunate slontzes. But then the Reckoners kill Steelheart. Suddenly the entire class hierarchy of this city comes crashing down around these blokes. Everything changes overnight--oh, and that phrase makes sense for the first time in most of the children's lives. The immortal was slain before them. The insurmountable was made achievable. They see the sun for the first time in a decade. They see their tyrants cast down low and forced to leave town. They see the brutal totalitarian enforcement division turned into a peacekeeping division. They see life as they've never seen it before. Then comes Mitosis. An Epic like any other. A man--sorry, men who cannot be killed. And he comes in making demands, threatening to start slaughtering them like so many Epics like him have done before. And the Reckoners, for all they've been able to accomplish, can't stop him. But what can the Reckoners do? Tell the Newcagoans how to stop him for themselves. Which they do. By singing. They line up by the steel river and sing the worst song in the history of songs, all across the city, melting a High Epic in his glory. The goal of the Reckoners was never just to kill Epics. It was to teach the common people to kill Epics. To be willing to kill Epics the moment the opportunity presents itself. Mitosis demonstrates that they succeeded, with the most unlikely, downtrodden bunch of common people you could possibly imagine. Firefight and Calamity are just icing on the cake. It's Mitosis that proves that the Reckoners could actually win. It's Mitosis that makes for the uplifting epilogue to their mission. It's Mitosis that showcases the Reckoner organization's greatest victory. Sorry for the rant. Someone dissed Mitosis and I felt the urge to vent.
  21. So i always love seeing what song people associate with the characters so if you have some in mind please post them. Listening to the radio yesterday and I heard Kryptonite by 3 Doors Down and i thing it fits Prof pretty well
  22. Earlier this week we reported about a change in policy with regards to release parties at BYU. Specifically they are instituting a new "digital line", which was just posted. You can sign up here. One important note, if you want to be entered into the raffle for a number between 1-100 you must sign up within the first 24 hours (i.e. between Friday at noon and Saturday at noon, Mountain time). This form is also the place where you can sign up to volunteer, if you wish to do so. In other news it appears that Steelheart is getting a new hardcover release. As we know Steelheart received new US cover art when it got released in paperback, the covers for Firefight and Calamity then continued in the new style. This new release is a hardcover of Steelheart with the "new" paperback design. This means that hardcover owners now have an opportunity to have a matching set. According to Peter this is not an actual reprinting but rather "a rejacketing of warehouse copies of the first printing hardcover". Check out our forum topics here to discuss the digital line, and here the new Steelheart release!
  23. Was anyone else aware that Steelheart was getting a rerelease in hardcover with the new cover? Was I the only one that didn't know? Oh man am I getting it (it always bothered me that the cover didn't match...)!
  24. Hello Sharders! I made a map of the distribution of Epics across the United States, working on average. This uses the Brandon-supplied ratio of 1:10'000 Epics at the beginning, and my own surmised ratio of 1:100 High Epic/Epic ratio Its spoilered because it is a bit big Some interesting results, now that one can see the map and the numbers laid out like this. In regards to Newcago (with 1000 Epics and 10-15 High Epics) it seems like it simply has all the Epics in Illinois, minus a few that were killed in turf wars and the Collapse before Steelheart solidified his control over Newcago. Alaska seems to have statistically between 1 and no High Epics at all, so Khione must be the only one California is swimming in Epics though! 3880! and 38 Highs!