What Happened in Portland

[Edgedancer]

Lucentia undertook the tedious task of watching the sky for further intruders, while sitting on her temporary throne. A task like this wasn’t worth of someone as important as herself but she could hardly leave it to the imbecilic dinosaurs Lightwards kept as guards.

 

She noticed the weird ensemble of one minor Epic, a zombie dinosaur and her brother’s second slave girl heading down from the museum. Although, the little blood Epic at least had enough sense to anchor herself on the diamond platform. There was a certain temptation to simply let the section she connected her rope to crumble and safe herself all the trouble she would without doubt cause in the future. However, the queen resisted the urge, in part because her brother would certainly complain far out of proportion to her about it afterwards. Hopefully they will at least show her an appropriate amount of gratitude for her mercy. One way or another the little one’s life would be forfeit, if she was to useless that she couldn’t even deal with one of these weaklings.

 

Nighthound taking his sweet time with their new prisoner also didn’t escape her notice. Not that she cared either way, as long as they would eventually get information out of her.

 

A gunshot drew her attention to a balloon approaching them. It was fairly hard to make out in the dark sky, if not for the brightly glowing patches attached to it. Fools indeed. Tendrils of diamond set themselves free from the flying museum and reached towards the balloon with more speed that one would suspect from their sheer mass.

 

Just as they were about to swallow their target landed in front of her lacking any amount of grace to speak of, at this point it was a mystery to her how he could not see how much of an embarrassment he was to himself. Showing even further lack of understanding of the situation, he distracted her by asking with what intruders she had to deal. "I had the fortune to face two of the attackers by the entrance. "How many have you succeeded in killing or… neutralizing"

 

In the short moment he managed to distract her explosions littered the sky around the balloon, in an attempt to destroy her tendrils. Further balloons descended towards them. Reacting quickly she pulled together a wall of diamond in front of them. As Lucentia rightly assumed these balloons exploded as well, once they hit the wall. They also showered the air with confetti, how she began to loathe such party utensil.

 

Slightly annoyed she decided to ignore Lightwards for now and resumed her attack. However, a giant cloud of smoke now obscured the sky were the balloon was before. Still Lucentia stabbed her tendrils widely into the cloud, just for the chance that she might hit something. Indeed she did manage to find the balloon and crushed it as she encased it in the tendrils that found it. Whether or not the attack was still inside the vessel is something she was less certain about.

 

Letting out an annoyed sight she turned back to the reason someone may have managed to get away from her, “I have dealt with at least three intruders trying to destroy our flying mechanism. I am terribly afraid that I let less pressing matters distract me from making sure if my service for your dear little empire was even greater.” Lucentia did nothing to disguise the sarcasm in her voice and, mocking a sincere gesture, laid a hand on her chest. 

Edited July 19, 2015 by Edgedancer

[Fatebreaker]

The Ballooner hadn't thought things could get worse. Really he hadn't.

The evil demon birds had been bad enough, flying on wings made of nightmares and despair, seeking to feast on his eyeballs like succulent grapes with rather striking blue irises.

 

But then things got very much worse.

 

The Mad Ballooner watched as huge tendrils of diamond rose from the museum at a perfectly horrendous speed.

They twisted and turned, like the tentacles of a giant  sky-sqiud imagined by a third grader, like an unholy space alien envisioned by the 70's, like the vengeful spirits of the Zales sales associates he had shot back in Maryland, like...

 

The Ballooner realized that perhaps this was not the proper time to come up with an exquisite analogy, but rather the time to exercise the better part of valor.

 

Getting the sparks out of there.

 

 

"Schultz, prepare Plan Fivfe!"

 

Schultz grunted in affirmation and turned to the Mad Ballooner. Tape shot from his hands, attaching itself the the mad ballooner's torso and limbs.

 

"Schultz! Be hurryink PLEASE!!!"

 

Schultz ignored his panicked outburst and maintained focus. In seconds he had crafted a sort of wingsuit around him. He then proceeded to craft a similar one for himself.

 

"Schultz, they're gettink CLOSER!!!"

 

Schultz looked up as the last pieces of tape came into place and nodded.

The Mad Ballooner ran to the front of the Zeppelin and shouted,

 

"Escape Pan  FIVFE!!!"

 

He flung his arms wide and created the largest amount of balloons he'd ever made in his life. 

And all of them were of an explosive nature. Well, most of them.

There were some confetti balloons as well because they were just so festive the Mad Ballooner couldn't resist.

 

He turned and ran towards the rear of the zeppelin where Schultz was waiting.  He turned back towards the museum and shook his fist

 

"You may haf beat us zis time, but ve vill be returnink tvice as stoAAAAYEAAAHEHEYEHHHEEEEEEEEEEE..."

 

Before The Mad Ballooner could finish his horribly cliche line, the diamond tendrils hit the first of the balloons, causing an explosion the like of which he had seen only in Chuck Norris Films. And maybe some Michael Bay films as well...

But unlike the movies where the hero is unaffected by explosions and their repercussions, this explosion sent out a shock wave that slammed into the zeppelin, launching the Mad Ballooner and Schultz through the air and away from the floating museum. Moments later the zeppelin met it's untimely demise to the diamond tendrils, creating another large explosion. 

 

Needless to say, it was not quite the exit The Mad Ballooner had been hoping for.

[mail-mi]

 

“OW!”

 

Instantly Mommy wished she hadn’t screamed so shrilly, but she couldn’t help it as Airplane set her down not-so-gently on the concrete in front of the school. 

 

“Sorry about the rough landing, miss, but at least you got a nice and comfortable ride, if you know what I mean,” Airplane said as he “inconspicuously” flexed his muscles. “I’ll be inside if you want to talk about that thing you mentioned earlier.” 

 

Mommy rolled her eyes as he brushed passed her and entered the school. She was about to turn around when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A little human something, trying to hide around the corner of a building down the street. 

 

Who are you? she thought as she leaned in and squinted towards the child. Do you need a place to stay? Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, and Mommy was always looking for little children to take care of, looking to be the person to help out in this rotten world that everyone lived in. 

 

Carefully, she started walking towards the little kid. 

Angel held her hand out to Ramses--her new husky--to tell him to stay, and peeked around the corner of the old almost-collapsing building. It was amazing: Ramses followed her every order, and seemed to know what to do before Angel even thought it. He was the best dog she could ever have. 

 

Angel blinked her eyes and looked down the street. It was deserted, except for one woman, who was coming towards her. Sparks! Did she see me?! Even if she did, she didn’t look like that bad of a person. Didn’t most Epics usually dress up in some fancy outfit that screamed “I AM AN EPIC” to the world? This woman was just wearing a plain, plaid dress. 

 

And besides, it was getting really dark. Who knew who or what else Angel would find tonight? She needed a place to sleep, and this woman seemed as likely as any to give it to her. 

 

It couldn’t hurt to ask, right? 

 

Cautiously, she stepped out of her hiding place and bade Ramses follow. 

 

 

The little girl--she couldn’t be more than eight or nine years old--came out of her hiding place, followed by a huge grey husky. Mommy put on a gentle smile, but she found it hard to keep it in place when she found what covered the little girl.

 

Flaky, dried blood. 

 

What happened to this little kid?!

 

As soon as the girl was pretty close, Mommy spoke gently. “Hey, little girl. What’s your name?” 

 

The little girl swallowed audibly. “A-Angel. Angel Zoe Finch.” The dog growled at Mommy fiercely, and the girl--Angel--turned her attention to it, visibly telling it to calm down. 

 

Something didn’t feel right, though Mommy couldn’t put her finger on it. “Well, Angel, are you missing your parents?” Still not looking at her, Angel nodded. “I can take you in for the night, if you want.” 

 

Angel immediately brightened. “Really?” 

 

Mommy focused on her and willed the blood to go away. “Yeah. Here, let me just clean you off really quic--”

 

The blood stayed stubbornly on the little girl. 

 

Mommy’s heart clenched. No.... “H-How old are you, Angel?” 

 

She sighed. “I’m thirteen. Everyone says I look like I’m ten, but really I’m--” 

 

Thirteen.

 

Angel was thirteen.

 

“GET AWAY!” Mommy screeched. Angel recoiled in horror, but Mommy didn’t care. She was too busy trying to force memories of the past away, too busy trying not to relive them. My daughter.... 

 

“But--” Angel stuttered. 

 

“DID YOU HEAR ME? GET AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME NOW!” Mommy glared at the little girl. Why? Why did you come here? Why did you face me like this? WHY DID YOU MAKE ME RELIVE MY DAUGHTER ABANDONING ME?!

 

Screaming, the not-so-little girl dashed away with tears streaming down her face, the husky following after her. 

 

Mommy’s eyes weren’t completely dry either. That little girl was no Angel, she was a demon sent from hell to torture her, to make her remember everything horrible she had ever experienced. 

 

Forcing back sobs, Mommy ran back to the school. 

Angel ran back around the corner and wiped the tears from her eyes. The one time she thought she had hope, it was crushed. That woman had seemed so nice, why did she have to blow up like that and push Angel away? Ramses had growled at her, did that mean she was an Epic?

 

Whatever the case was, the woman obviously wasn’t going to help Angel, and neither was anyone else. Angel started to sob, and immediately Ramses came up and nuzzled his head under her arm. She smiled through the tears. 

 

“Well, Ramses,” she said, sniffling and looking over at the old, dilapidated building. “I guess we’re sleeping here tonight.” 

[Voidus]

Zip slammed his fists down onto his desk.

Three attacks, three disasters that had ended with nearly every member of the attacking teams dead, Refill gone, morale in tatters as everyone noticed their dwindling numbers and a few Epics had left HQ without a word and likely weren't coming back.

He would not go back to hiding in that mousehole, hiding from all the Epics who wanted to fight him, hiding from the humans who hated him because he was an Epic. He was somebody important now, he controlled a faction of Epics larger than Altermind or Corpsemaker, for now anyway.

No he'd been thinking too narrowly, coming up with interesting ways to use powers was helpful, it had attracted many new Epics and made their forces stronger, but he needed to apply some of the same kind of tactical thinking to the attacks. Subterfuge would work well for now. He needed to undermine the other Epics, it appeared that Altermind was meeting with this new 'Emperor Lightwards', the most likely reason for that would be to make an alliance to deal with Corpsemaker. It made sense, Corpsemaker was probably the most dangerous of the three particularly to other Epics. So an alliance then, that would have to be undermined, perhaps Subtext could be used somehow...
 

Neverthere opened her eyes once more, the dim light of a computer monitor flickering into view, she quickly scanned the various cameras positioned around her safehouse, sure now that no one had followed her here. The neighbours had been asleep when she'd entered, which was fortunate but also disappointing, devising someones death was a chore but the payoff always left Neverthere excited.

Well it seems that the attacks have all been dealt with, failing just as spectacularly as anyone could have predicted, I hope C4 survives though. Maybe when I go visit Lightwards tomorrow I can pay her a visit.

Stretching her arms above her head, Neverthere leaned back in her chair for a moment, thinking through all that she'd seen and how she could fit it all into her own goals. Lightwards should be likely to accept her help for the time being, though he was a bit controlling, he'd probably try to find out where she was so that he could 'protect' her or something.

I'll deal with that if it comes to it, no ones ever managed before and I'm sure I can play him against the diamond queen for now to keep them busy. Between that and the other factions I should be able to manage things very well.

Closing her eyes once more, Neverthere sent her projection out again, surveying the city, ferreting out secrets wherever she could and enjoying the carnage left behind by the recent Epic activity. She would sleep later, years of projecting to keep herself hidden had allowed her to survive on relatively little but for now she would deny herself even that.

"No rest for the wicked." She giggled as she hung in mid air, watching the lights of Portland slowly winking out.

[Mailliw73]

The bone-white antlers stabbed his father again. And again. Cadmus turned to run, but his feet were glued in place. The stag looked at him, eyes entirely black, sucking in light, and morphed. The stag became an amalgamation of beasts. The stuff of legends, a Minotaur, but with the head of a deer instead of a bull. Then Cerberus, the three-headed dog of hell. All three heads had antlers. Next was a gorgon. A hydra. Telekhines. A manticore. And last, a chimera. All with heads of a stag.

Cadmus screamed in horror, but no sound left his mouth. A black void began shrinking around him, closing him in with his father's corpse and the beast. The chimera, with head of a lion, a snake, and a stag, charged him. Cadmus clenched his teeth and his eyes shut and Chi woke up in bed, thrashing and sweaty. Argo stood above him, concern in his furry face. "I'm all right. I'm fine," Chimera said, as much for his benefit as his guardian's.

The afterimages of the black-eyed stag stained his memory. Chi stood and paced the room, calming his heavy breathing. The nightmares were always worse when he used his powers a lot. And if the past couple days had shown him anything, he'd be using them a lot more soon. Portland was rapidly going to hell and Chimera's zoo was the only Elysium left.

[Mailliw73]

Laughter surrounded Milton and his face flushed with embarrassment. Everyone was laughing and pointing at his birthmark which had grown to cover half his face and turned a bright purple. "Splotchy!" "Birthmark Boy!" "Purple Face!" His anger rose with each new insult. The taunts came from every direction in the cafeteria. It began to spin around him, the voices calling out from everywhere. They were all perfect human specimens and he was the ugly one. The imperfect one.

Rotten milk spilled down his back. A tomato splattered on his face. His ears filled with insults. The room spun and spun faster and faster. Voices got louder and louder.

"Stop!" Milton cried out. He roared in anger and pushed. Pencils and pens and compasses and keys were shot through the air. They all struck the perfect, beautiful bodies surrounding him. Once they fell, their faces were covered with purple birthmarks of their own. Blood soaked the high school grounds, every ugly imbecile in the school dead. Dead at Milton's hands. Exactly as he wanted them.

Frankie clapped his hands as mommy put his nummy cake on his plate. Frankie loved cake. He dug in with his hands. The frosting was blue. Blue was Frankie's favorite color. And now he was four. So he was a big boy. Uh oh. Mommy said big boys used forks not hands. Frankie looked up at mommy and saw her frowning a little. He wiped his hands on a napkin and picked up a fork. She nodded. Frankie smiled and ate more cake.

When Frankie finished his cake, he saw Uncle Hecty and his kitty. Frankie ran to the kitty. Kitty had a squishy face and furry hands. Haha, Frankie laughed. Furry hands were yucky to eat with. He petted the kitty and it rubbed him with its nose. Frankie laughed, but now his nose was itchy. And his eyes hurt. The kitty made his eyes hurt. Frankie pushed the kitty away. The kitty turned into a tiger. Frankie ran away, but his eyes were crying and his skin began to burn. Air. He couldn't breathe good. "Mommy!" Frankie cried. He fell down. He itched, but he couldn't stop it. The tiger stalked towards him. It pounced and the claws raked Frankie's legs. His skin burned more and he couldn't breathe anymore. He was turning purple. No air. Itchy. Mommy!

Flashpoint sat up in bed. He hated his nightmares. That birthday had been the worst day of his life. He had almost died from Uncle Hector's cat. Luckily, his aunt had similar allergies and had tried using her inhaler on him. It had worked, fortunately, enough for him to be rushed to the hospital. Hector never came by after that. Storming cats never left him alone at night.

[the winter system]

Red slammed into the body of the Minor Epic on the parachute who was trying to escape. The impact nearly knocked the breath out of her, but Red kept going. She slammed her fist into the Minor Epic’s head. She wasn’t exactly a strength Epic, but she could be tough.

 

Crimson proved that.

 

Red glared around as if to prove it.

 

That was when she saw the giant dinosaur.

 

Impressive. Dinosaurs. Sparking dinosaurs. It wasn’t Nighthound who had the dinosaurs, was it?

 

Red couldn’t quite remember. She jerked to a stop, holding the scrambling Minor Epic.

 

That was when-

 

Calamity!
 

It was flying right towards them. Red quickly slashed her throat and used the blood to pull her up, throwing the Minor Epic towards the dinosaur. It was probably not good to have blood manipulation powers right then because wouldn’t the dinosaur smell it?

 

Red yanked herself up on the strings of blood. Once she’d pulled herself up, she repelled all the blood away from her, straight at the Minor Epic.

 

The dinosaur was chomping down on them. Blood, not Red’s, was squirting everywhere. It was totally disgusting.

Red wished she had a camera.

 

As it was, she stared at the messy death, determined not to miss any details.

The Minor Epic had deserved it. The group had attacked the flying museum. They had failed. They deserved this death- and worse. Red watched with a satisfied pleasure.

 

Once the dinosaur had finished chewing, it made a cool slurping sound and opened its mouth. Red smiled.

 

She then turned to Nighthound and the Epic with the sparking diamond arm. Some kind of diamond manipulator, probably. Given that the platform was made of sparking diamonds…

 

Nah, Nighthound was better. For now… I seriously am loving that diamond arm. Whatever. Red totally didn’t care that she got really awesome diamond manipulating powers.
 

Red then turned to Nighthound and the Minor Epic which had been part of the attack group. She didn’t like the girl. She should’ve also been fed to the dinosaurs. Instead, she got to be Nighthound’s too.

 

Red eyed the Minor Epic. Lucky.

If Red had been Nighthound, she would’ve torn that girl to pieces. Now that girl was getting privileged instead of punished.

 

Of course, it would be Nighthound’s choice. Even if the failure to properly punish the girl severely got on Red’s nerves and kinda made her wonder what sort of Epic Nighthound was, giving the girl so much attention (which Red wanted for herself), she’d deal with it.

 

For now.

 

Besides, there were quite a few other Epics nearby.

 

Red touched her head to the floor and started licking the diamonds. She might as well, not like anything bad would come of it.

“What now, sir?” Red asked, blood from her neck spilling into a sphere.

 

I totally want those diamonds. “I am your slave, now and forever.”

[Kobold King]

 

 

Lucentia was silent. While usually this would be cause for celebration, at the moment it was rather irksome.

 

"I am speaking to you," Lightwards growled, voice barely restrained. "Do you hear--"

 

Suddenly explosions lit up the sky, flashing and popping like a firework show from before Calamity. Reacting smoothly as a serpent, the diamond queen raised her hands and summoned a thick wall of crystal before them, blocking the barrage of booming blasts from what appeared to be a bombardment of balloons. Sparks, burning fluid, and charred confetti, sprinkling the air with tendrils of acrid smoke.

 

Without an instant's delay Lucentia was back on the assault. Spikes of pure diamond shot through the dusk, spearing randomly until a rupturing sound proved she'd struck true. The smoke was cleared by a blast wave, revealing what seemed to be a zeppelin exploding into a fireball to put the Hindenburg to shame.

 

Lightwards watched with wide eyes, which he promptly narrowed as the diamond queen turned to address him.

 

“I have dealt with at least three intruders trying to destroy our flying mechanism," she said snootily, sarcastically placing a hand on her chest in mock sorrow. "I am terribly afraid that I let less pressing matters distract me from making sure if my service for your dear little empire was even greater.” 

 

Behind her back her diamond tendrils constructed around the trapped zeppelin, crushing it in yet another brilliant explosion. Nearby tendrils of animated blood wrapped around the side of the diamond platform, pulling up Nighthound's scab-covered pet.

 

Not for the first time, Lightwards began to feel that he was outgunned by his allies.

 

This did nothing to improve his mood, but he gritted his teeth and tried not to let his frustration show. "Respectable work," he admitted testily. "Hopefully I'll be privileged with seeing even better from you tomorrow."

 

He scowled out over the black cityscape, expression dark. "Tomorrow is when we begin clearing the vermin from this city. The fools and the unorganized imbeciles, like the ones who tried besting us tonight. We will ensure that all the Epics in this city either bow their heads to their betters, or die defiant."

 

With a surly nod to Lucentia and her brother, he turned away and located a spiral staircase that seemed to lead back to the museum. It would have been nice to know of its existence before his pterodactyl mishap, but there was nothing to do but remember it for the future now.

 

And so with a glare at Nighthound's more neglected slave, who hid on the stairs while her master toyed with his newest playthings, Lightwards ascended the steps and returned to his jungle fortress.

 

Tomorrow heads would be bowed before him... or else wrenched violently from their shoulders.

 

Either way, they'd all bow in the end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"To which I said, 'If that's your way of thinking, I shudder to think what you keep in a handbag!'"

 

Aldo chuckled mirthfully, slapping his knee in remembrance of the incident. "Of course, Silver Spear wasn't known for her sense of humor, so I was dismissed shortly thereafter. But at least I kept my full set of limbs--which is more than can be said for that golfer!"

 

Apart from the magician's rib-tickling anecdotes, the museum jungle was still and silent. There'd been popping sounds from outside as if from fireworks, and of course the dear emperor's dinosaurs had made the forest briefly liven up with the sound of agonized screaming. Now however, it was only Aldo making any noise. The Epic who could only be called the Unicyclist was sullenly refusing to speak or crack a grin.

 

Heck. Even Cricket wouldn't chirp at his jokes.

 

Regardless, when one had a captive audience one always made the best of it. To be honest with himself, only half of Aldo's mirth was from his recollections--the other half was from the volumes of information the Unicyclist gave without even knowing it.

 

The story of Silver Spear and the dismembered golfer was one of his more morbid stories, by merely objective terms. It involved a couple of horrifically dismembered vanillas and one excruciatingly long death, which he always made sure to tell in comically precise detail. Long time Epics like himself always got a good chuckle out of the tale, Calamity having long since removed any part of them that might find it offensive.

 

This man, however, clearly hadn't been an Epic for long. Underneath all the fear and hatred on his face there were faint twinges of emotion, and after the part of the story about the electric potato peeler, there was the briefest flash of one.

 

Disgust.

 

This Unicyclist was an Epic, for sure, but he hadn't been one for long. In fact--

 

Aldo's train of thought was derailed by the glorious Emperor of Light himself returning, slouched and looking ready to punt a puppy across the floor given half a chance.

 

"I trust you gave our invaders what for?" the magician inquired amiably, smiling sincerely.

 

"They're dead," Lightwards responded shortly. "Or wish they were, in the case of Nighthound's newest plaything. In any case, the fortress is safe for the night."

 

"Excellent!" Aldo exclaimed. "I knew Cricket and I were making the right choice with your Empire."

 

Cricket only yawned, but she gave a half-hearted salute that the Emperor seemed to miss. Probably for the best.

 

Lightwards paced to the side of the bound unicyclist, where judging by his hands and contemptuous glare he was seriously considering putting a bullet in his skull. "Did this one give you any trouble?" he asked, voice threatening and aimed for the prisoner himself.

 

"Not at all," Aldo assured, tussling the kneeling man's hair. "He was perfectly still and quiet the whole time. If I had one on me I'd give him a sticker for exemplary behavior."

 

Lightwards nodded, still seeming furious.

 

"You still seem furious," Aldo noted, getting straight to the point. "Is there any issue I can be of service with?"

 

The Emperor frowned in thought, looking at the magician suspiciously. Slowly his face relaxed a notch, and he opened up a touch. "I still wonder," he admitted, still glaring at the maskless prisoner, "whether Funtimes is attempting to play us all for fools. She passes off that lover of hers as an Epic--why wouldn't she use the same tactic in reverse?"

 

Aldo scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's definitely a possibility to be considered. But from watching this good fellow, I think I'd conclude that he's brand new to our trade. Why, if I had to guess--and I'm very good at guessing these things--I'd say he's only just now been through his Rending!"

 

He glanced down at the prisoner and smiled. "The Rending," he explained cheerfully, "is what we call the first moments of an Epic's new life. It triggers rage and strange new ways of thinking, and only a few can remember the experience after the fact."

 

"Like tequila," Cricket quipped from the side, prompting a chortle from Aldo.

 

"Yes, though the Rending's far more profound," Aldo went on, smiling fondly at the still-scowling prisoner. "I'll tell you the story of my own some time--it has a dozen cobras and a squeamish bartender in it. I'm sure you'd love it."

 

"Back to the matter at hand," growled Lightwards, "I gather that what you are proposing is that this man is too new to have been planted by the Doctor?"

 

"I would presume so, yes," Aldo replied assuringly. "He's a difficult one to read, but I am certain."

 

The Emperor, at long last, seemed appeased. And also exhausted, likely from his long day of establishing a foothold in an anarchic turf war.

 

"You've had a long day," Aldo noted soothingly. "We can handle this man. You need your beauty sleep."

 

Lightwards nodded slowly, giving one last glare to the bound man. "I want him tied firmly," he ordered, enunciating decisively. "And his mask placed far away. I will deal more extensively with him in the morning."

 

"Absolutely," the magician responded cheerily. "Have a restful night's sleep, our Emperor."

 

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Lightwards cracked a smile. "I intend to." With that, he stalked away in the direction of his quarters, a few velociraptors ambling slowly behind him.

 

Whistling quietly, Aldo immediately set about following his orders.

 

A rope from his sleeve was fastened tightly around the Unicyclist's body, binding him to the trunk of a tree that hopefully wouldn't set off any allergies. The man grunted when the rope was drawn too tight, but other than that, he still resisted speech.

 

"No need to worry, my good man," Aldo assured him gently. "You won't find a more restful night's sleep than all these miles up, I'd reckon. And besides, I have a feeling great things will happen tomorrow. Maybe we'll even get started on wiping this state clean in a wash of fire and ash."

 

For just the second time, a brief look of surprise flickered across the tied-up Epic's face, as if the soothing term and the talk of obliteration didn't quite mesh in his mind.

 

Aldo merely chuckled as he rose to his feet and went to find a suitable sleeping spot for himself. "Don't worry about it, my good fellow. I'm just getting ahead of myself. Dream sweet dreams of fire and bagpipes, my friend."

 

And the forest was silent once more.

 

 

[Edgedancer]

Nighthound gave his third pet a moment to come to term with her situation, while he watched his sister deal with the balloon situation. Meanwhile he moved his hand through her hair, she quivered under his touch like a small animal trying to escape.

 

He kept her in check by pulling her head back down whenever she tried to move too much, enticing cute little screams of fear from her every time. Pure music.

 

An undeserved brake for her came when Red returned. Her subservient was welcomed but she made one significant mistake, licking the diamond. It didn’t escape Lucentia’s notice and a segment of the floor rose up and slapped Red across the face, hard at that.

 

Nighthound, grabbing Red by the chin, lifted up her face and inspected it for wounds. No obvious wounds as far as he could see, although, her cheek may end up bruised. Running his thumb across that cheek he considered what to do with her. It seems that spreading his attention between the three of them may cause some work.

 

“You may want to hold back around my sister” Nighthound told her, “Anyway, the day is pretty much done. I’ll still have to teach the two unruly ones a lesson. You can go and do whatever you want or if you’re a good little girl you can go warm my bed and wait for me until I’m done with the other two.”

 

With that he left the platform, noticing that Lucentia was starting to let it crumble. “If you could come with me quick for her containment.” Nighthound said to Lucentia, once they were back in the museum. Somewhat soured she followed him through the foliage, with him dragging Ray and C4 behind him. They settled in a small chamber and Lucentia imprisoned the black haired minor Epic by setting her feet in the ground and her hands, held over her head, set in a diamond block that attached to the ceiling, setting it so that she had to stand bend forward. “Thank you, sis,” Nighthound said once she was finished, “Could you please also hand me a knife.” Rolling her eyes she complied and left after handing him the diamond knife, without saying another word.

 

“Well then,” Nighthound said, running his hand across C4’s back, “the three of us will have a very private night.” Nighthound’s hand came to a rest on her butt, “Me asking some personal questions, poking you a bit with that knife, getting rid of some of the useless fabric in your dress and general abuse. I know I will enjoy it and I hope you won’t.” Squeezing down he found her quite pleasant to the touch.

 

Nighthound gave her rear one sharp slap that caused her to try and pull away, something completely futile with her restrains. Then he stepped over to Ray, catching her so that he laid one arm around her waist, his hand resting low on her hip. Just as always her futile attempts to get away from him were adorable, not that elbowing him in the stomach would help her.

 

“Now my darling pet, we come to your role tonight,” Nighthound said holding the knife out to her, “Given your good work just now, I’ll tone down the abuse towards you and let you do the knife work.”

 

After hesitating a bit Ray grabbed the blade and throwing her entire weight around she pushed Nighthound to the ground. Furiously she stabbed into him again and again, each time channeling her power into the diamond, ripping holes into his body and burning his flesh. With one hate filled roar she brought the blade down on his head.

 

Nighthound caught her wrists.

 

It was a casual motion, something he could have done whenever he wished to. Simply whipping his arm forward faster than she could react, and slightly twisting her wrists, so her energy blade missed his head.

 

For a moment he simply enjoyed the sight of her. She starred at him, hate burning deep in her eyes, her body taut, desperately trying to pull free from him, ready to jump either away from him or if she got the chance to attack him again, his gore staining her entire body and the darkness escaping from his wounds licking her curves.

 

She was a work of beauty.

 

Something he could break whenever he wanted, yet she tried to resist with an unbroken will. The moment when he utterly broke and dominated her spirit would be infinitely more fulfilling because of it.

 

He bent her arms back behind her, forcing her to arch her back. Then he moved himself up in a sitting position, ending with her in his lap and their chest pressing against each other. His hand moved up from her hip, over her side to her neck. “I love your fire.”

 

Ray’s response was trying to thrash around and a chain of insults, threats and curses. It drew a chuckle from Nighthound. He kissed her neck, tenderly moving up to her jaw, where he bit down. Gently at first, almost playful, then he increased the pressure, not enough to hurt her but enough to make clear that he could shatter her jaw, if he wanted to.

 

Then he punched her in the side, strong enough to send her flying out of his lap and onto the ground. He pulled her back on her feet, positioning himself behind her, one hand on her hip and the other guiding the hand she was holding the knife in.

 

“Please Ray, I was just praising you. Now let us deal with this night’s entertainment before I have to string you up as well.” With that Nighthound pushed her towards C4, who desperately trying to get away. She did not get away from what he had planned for her.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

 

“Dream sweet dreams of fire and bagpipes, my friend.”

 

Sweet. As if anything could be sweet when he was tied to a tree, body screaming in pain, the jungle still standing. The jungle Funtimes built, just to show the whole sparking world how special and unique she was. At the time, the Unicyclist had thought it cool. He’d thought it with more than a bit of jealousy, but he’d found it brilliant all the same.

 

He knew better now.

 

Oh, it was still cool. Still fantastic enough to draw the attention of more than a few Epics. But her motives weren’t pure, not pure at all. She’d created this sparking jungle inside this sparking museum that she’d made float for Calamity’s sake to lord it over the rest of the city. Look at me! the museum said to anyone with eyes and ears. The one who made me is a million times better than you are!

 

And the truth was—

 

No.

 

There was no truth in that statement. None at all. Funtimes was not better than he was, she was not stranger, she was not more noticeable, and she was not going to win this round.

 

Not even with him broken and tied to a tree.

 

Dream sweet dreams of fire and bagpipes, my friend.

 

The Unicyclist closed his eyes, and after too long, he drifted off to sleep.

 

He dreamed of a fire that burned his mask to ashes.

 

 

Protector Pug feasted that night.

 

Her Leader, never one for extravagance, had given her enough. Nothing like this. Nothing like these morsels of meat and soft bits of crust, some with cheese and sauce still attached. Some of the meats were too spicy for her taste, but when she refused a second bite, the humans found her the plainest meats they could. Her human even picked an entire slice clean to give her as much chicken as she could, wiping the sauce away before she offered each bite.

 

Glorious.

 

Sam. That was her new human’s name….she thought so, anyway. It was hard to tell when she didn’t always turn her head at the sound of it, or sometimes spoke without hearing it. But that sounded like her name.

 

Sam.

 

It would be a nice name on anyone else, but on her human, it was the prettiest name in the world. Protector Pug wished she could say it like the other humans did. She settled for looking at Sam as often as she could.

 

The feasting seemed to have lifted her mood. She was smiling, and when the other girl human—the one whose name started with an rrrr sound—spoke, sometimes the two of them would smile and make a noise Protector Pug couldn’t identify. She watched them, wagging her tail slowly, listening to their trilling voices and wondering what the noise meant. Their smiles meant they were happy, but the noise…the noise was something different. Leader had never made that noise, not where she could hear.

 

She liked it, though.

 

After the first bout of the strange noise, Rrrr asked a question. Protector Pug could tell by the way her voice lifted a little at the end. “Where are you two from? Do you live in Portland?”

 

“I do,” Sam said, then her face clouded with sad and scared. “I, well, I grew up in San Diego. But….well, I think you know the story. We ended up coming up here.”

 

She asked the boy human a question, and his answer was even shorter. “Newcago. I was a server. In one of the casinos.”

 

The clouds over his face were made of more scared than sad this time, but Protector Pug saw both. So, apparently, did Sam and Rrrr. Protector Pug wasn’t sure what all they talked about after that, but it didn’t make them sad or scared. In fact, there was more of that strange noise from all three of them. She still wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she made a mental note to study it until she did.

 

Finally, when the food had been picked over and Protector Pug was full, Sam looked at her with a small frown. “She really needs a name.”

 

The boy human said something in his rumbly voice, and Rrrr replied in her trilling one: “Maybe there’s a name she likes?”

 

Sam looked at Rrrr, but turned back to Protector Pug. “Are you….Mabel?”

 

Protector Pug wasn’t sure how to respond.

 

“She’s not Mabel,” said Rrrr.

 

“Are you….Daisy? Poppy? Rainbow?”

 

Protector Pug tilted her head. She still wasn’t sure what was going on, but she sensed the importance of it.

 

“Getting closer?” the boy human asked.

 

“Gerta? Suki?”

 

She tilted her head the opposite direction. That last word….she liked the way it sounded.

 

“Suki?”

 

Protector Pug tilted her head further, wagging her tail.

 

“You like that? Suki?”

 

She stood to wag her tail more vigorously, causing Sam to make that strange noise again.

 

“Suki it is, then. Come here, Suki!” 

 

Protector Pug still wasn’t sure what Sam was saying, but she understood enthusiasm and went toward her, still wagging her tail. The other humans gathered around her, petting her head and repeating that word: “Hi, Suki!” “How you doing, Suki?” “You’re a good girl, Suki!” And somewhere, in the middle of all the petting and talking, Protector Pug realized what had just happened.

 

She had a name.

 

A name. Her name. Her special, awesome, one-of-a-kind, given-by-her-very-own-human name. Leader didn’t do that for all his animals, just the ones he visited often. The ones he liked the most.

 

Suki was so happy she kissed Sam on the cheek. Sam was her Leader now, and her Leader liked her. Leader Sam, that was what she was. And Leader Sam called her Suki.

 

----------------

 

They went to bed later on. Sam slept in a room with Rrrr, beds against opposite walls, and once Sam was done getting ready to sleep, she made a bed for Suki. Suki knew the pillow she set on the floor was hers because Sam patted it while calling her name. Suki dashed for it and lay down.

 

Soft. So soft. So soft.

 

“Good girl,” Sam said, scratching her ears. She climbed into her own bed and turned off the light.

 

That was when Suki realized they weren’t close enough.

 

Sam was up there, and Suki was down here. It didn’t seem far in the light, but now that the room was dark, the few feet seemed to go on forever. She wanted to be closer, and besides. She was a Protector Pug. Protectors were supposed to protect, and she couldn’t protect Sam from the floor. Could she?

 

Probably….

 

….not.

 

With a small grunt, Suki left her pillow—soft things were surprisingly hard to walk on—and gave herself a running start. With that, and one heroic leap, she was on Sam’s bed.

 

“Suki? What are you doing up here?”

 

Suki answered with a long snort, drawing a sigh. After a bit of snuffling around, Suki found the perfect spot: right by Sam’s side, so she could curl up close and feel her breathing.

 

“Fine,” Sam said, but there was bit of happy in her voice. Suki gave a long sigh of contentment, and was asleep in minutes. 

Edited August 10, 2015 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Mrs. Voidus]

Voidus' contribution

Mrs.Voidus' contribution

 

Sunlight, flickering through a window, soft mattress beneath sore muscles, his mattress? Likely. Recollections, house entered with familiar woman, introduced herself. Former acquaintance? Spouse.

Groaning softly as he sat up, the Epic formerly known as Jeff Carlisle turned to the woman next to him, her soft face framed by the morning light and felt a twinge in his chest.

 

Her eyes were already fixed upon his.

Awoke first? Any chance to plan anything? No, familiarity, not likely to attempt harmful actions.
 

“Good Morning,” she said as she sat up and gingerly lifted a heavily laden wooden tray, and placing it on the bed.

 

Tray, filled with food. Poisoned? No, ineffective delivery, no motivation. Safe to eat.

Examining her slight hands as he took the closest item from the tray, the Planner examined his memories of the previous night. She should be able to lift the tray with her abilities shouldn’t she?

Hesitation to use powers or limitation? Weakness in effect? No, no fear evident. Concern? Interpersonal relationship important, need to comfort.
 

Saccharine noticed with a slight wince “her husband”s hesitation as he lifted a bacon wrapped sausage to his chin and glanced at her sideways.

“If I had wanted to poison you, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she said, giggling.

Attempting for the first time to smile at his wife, the Planner took his first bite. They were delicious.

Amazing. Need more. Sufficient quantity for now? Social obligations to consider, polite to allow some for her to eat.

He looked sidelong at Saccharine, a slight questioning in his gaze.

 

So many slices of garlic bread, baked eggs and more bacon, thick pancakes with maple syrup AND cream, too much for a single person? Likely. Expected to share? Probable.

 

Saccharine began humming to an unknown tune as she lifted a second tray up and over her own knees.

“Oh I am sorry, is there not enough? I made a second tray for you if you were not satisfied.”

 

Awkward smile turning into a grin of delight, the Planner took to his tray with relish.

 

“It is plenty for now. My thanks.” He managed to say in between mouthfuls.

 

“That may be for the best. Jeffy my love, just promise you wont look under the sink ok? Or the benches. Or the cupboards.”

 

Sink? Source of embarrassment? Secret? Recollection of social norms indicative of insufficient household cleanliness as primary source of embarrassment over specific areas.

Taking in his surroundings, the Planner felt dissatisfied with the current lodgings that he and Saccharine were using.

Need to improve or find better lodgings.

“How are you finding the house? I’d rather something more suited to our status personally.”

 

“Oh, really? It’s just that I… The owners… We know this place is secure. Although I must admit there aren’t nearly enough doilies.”

 

Hesitation? Unsure of cause. Settled already? Familiar place? No, new town.

 

“Alright! we will move, plenty more houses to take, and plenty more samples to make.” She said in her sing song way.

 

Finishing the last roll of garlic bread, the Planner leant back with a satisfied sigh.

“I’m sure we can find suitable accommodation somewhere.”

 

“Oh, I already have that sorted,” she said as she walked to the bedroom door. “just give me a moment to… powder my nose.”

 

The Planner nodded briefly to Saccharines retreating back.

Social interaction awkward, due to inexperience? Likely an effect of excessive over analyzing.

Pulling back the covers he stretched briefly before pulling on his purple cloak and considered following Saccharine from the room.

Dressed with plenty of time to spare he toured the house briefly, picking aspects that could be improved.

Wallpaper peeling, leak in roof. Supply adequate electricity. Add research station in living room.

 

Saccharine walked as quickly as she could once out of earshot to reach the bloodied kitchen. To save time she had left her gown and petticoat by the chair in the hallway for her quick teleportation dressing method. Checking her pockets for her industrial strength bleach, she reached the kitchen and began hurriedly checking each surface for any hint of blood.

 

One drop and he might forget the loveliness of this morning.

 

Her scanning had proven effective, as all was neat and tidy, save for a limp hand dangling with mangled fingers from the bottom of a slightly ajar overhead compartment.

 

“What are you doing?” Said the Planner.

 

Saccharine hurriedly crammed the hand into her fourth back pocket, and produced from the third a small petit-fours she had made earlier, offering it with her other hand.

“I couldn’t bare for you to begin the day without just a little more sugar.”

 

A bloody hand, detached from its body, dripping in one of Saccharine's hands, quickly hid and replaced with some kind of confectionery.

Hiding a severed limb. Superstition? No, previous behaviour indicative of desire to keep hidden paired with connection to owners. Previous owners eliminated? Evidence likely hidden in places desired to keep hidden. Previous hypothesis: Embarrassment due to mess, confirmed.

“So it was because it was messy.” He murmured under his breath before biting into the cake. “Shall we go then?”

[Edgedancer]

Voidgaze rolled out of her bed, pulling her blanket behind her and plummeting to the ground. She jerked upwards, giving a short yelp but stopped moving, when she noticed the aching all over her body. It seems all the running she did yesterday was catching up with her now.

 

She gave a slight groan and slowly moved herself in a sitting position. From there she managed to surpass her tired legs and stood up. After that washing herself and getting dressed was downright easy. Next was the finishing touch. Voidgaze wrapped the scarf Big Al gave her around her neck, it was fluffy and had frayed ends.

 

Following the call of her stomach Voidgaze headed to the cafeteria. The people standing in line made way for her. She gladly skipped by them past them and gave all of them a thankful nod. Once she had her food she searched the cafeteria, feeling a flutter growing in her stomach.

 

It didn’t take her long to find where Big Al was sitting and she quickly stepped over to him and took seat across from him. Feeling the smile rise to her face she greeted him, “Good morning Al-“ Then she froze up. Memories of the last evening rushing her, heath rising to her cheeks caused her to break eye contact and instead stare at her marvelous breakfast cereals.

 

Big Al gently grabbed her hand. It was the incentive she needed to look back at his cute face. “Can I?” He asked, with a smile on his lips. “Yes, absolutely!” Her voice came out with more vigor than she anticipated. “I mean, it’s a very nice hand, attached to an even nicer gentleman and I’m starting to blabber really embarrassing stuff. Could you maybe help me and change the topic, I think right now I can stop myself from letting my entire blood rush to my cheeks.”

 

He chuckled slightly and gave her hand a squeeze, “Did you know that you are or at least used to be a bit of an urban legend?”

 

At that Voidgaze cocked her head a bit, “Was I? Hmm, well I barely left my house, so I suppose no one would really know me. The couple of times someone did come to visit me it usually was because they tried to kill me, so no nice words there either.” She noticed the concerned look on Al’s face. She hurried on, “But it’s fine really, I mean, obviously I am here so they did not manage to kill me, actually it was more likely to go the other way around. Hey anyway, now I left my home and I ended up here, which lead me you and well here I’m talking again.”

 

“Ma’am,” at the new voice Voidgaze jolted in her seat. Standing next to them was Disparo, who apparently approached them while Voidgaze was to absorbed in her rambling, “may I?”

 

“Ah yes of course.” Voidgaze said.

 

Giving a curt nod, Disparo took place next to them. “I wanted to thank you again for yesterday and there’s a proposal I had for you. If it would be okay with you ma’am I’d like to propose a unit to support you in combat, for example by shooting paintballs and the like.”

 

“I…” all things considered Voidgaze wasn’t quite sure what to make out of her idea, it’s not that she was against it but she simply had no idea how working with anything resembling a unit would work. Big Al gave her hand another squeeze and shot her a determined nod. “I actually wanted to talk with Altermind myself. Does either of you know where to find him?” Voidgaze noticed a subdue smile forming on Disparo’s lips, maybe this would actually turn out pretty well.

[Kobold King]

 

 

Sam's second morning since being kidnapped was a lot comfier than the first.

 

She woke up early to the feel of bright sunlight on her eyelids, and the feeling of a heavy but very warm weight pressing into her leg. It wasn't a bad way to wake up. After the long day she'd had yesterday, in fact, nothing seemed more appealing than to just lay here with her new pug, pretending to be asleep until Funtimes came along to whisk her away somewhere...

 

With a groan, she stretched and began wiggling out of bed, doing her best not to awake the snoozing Suki.

 

Best try to get some breakfast or something before some Epic comes and trashes the place again, she decided groggily.

 

The cottage was quiet, and from what little Sam could tell Funtimes had repaired the damages done by Lucentia the previous day. She found Revolution combing her hair in a bathrobe, humming a merry tune to herself as she sat in front of the cottage's only mirror.

 

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Revolution said cheerily, not turning from the mirror. "I thought you'd sleep till noon."

 

"G'morning," Sam replied with a yawn. "And I would have, if I thought I could get away with it. Is anyone else up?"

 

"Nathan's in the kitchen, I believe. I don't' know if Funtimes' awake yet, though she's probably not. I saw Remington briefly when I first got up, but I haven't seen the Darth Vader on a unicycle since yesterday."

 

"He's probably busy blowing up the Enterprise," Sam quipped groggily.

 

That was enough to finally make Revolution turn around in her chair, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the younger girl. "You've never actually seen Star Wars, have you?"

 

"Nope. Obliteration melted our DVD player," Sam retorted. "Have you seen a bathroom in this place?"

 

Revolution sighed. "Down the hall, past the yellow duck painting. There's a shower in there--there's already water heated for you."

 

"Real subtle of you, Rev."

 

"Just looking out for you," Revolution grinned, turning back to her mirror. "Make sure to get behind your ears."

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Living in occupied Portland was like a re-run of the Dark Ages. Food was scarce, and there was never a varied menu. In most parts of the city, electricity and running water were just a fondly-remembered dream.

 

With that in mind, Sam didn't feel very guilty about taking her time in the shower, enjoying the steaming water and making full use of a whole shampoo bottle. She tried not to dwell on any of her current problems, letting them instead wash away down the drain along with the warm water.

 

There was nothing she could do to protect her mother save to avoid ticking off Lightwards, so there was no sense in worry about it. Pamela certainly wouldn't benefit from any worrying--best to put the tragedies behind her and move to the next day with what enthusiasm she could muster. 

 

So Sam finished her shower, slapped an astonishingly pink fluffy towel around herself, and located a closet to see what clothes Funtimes had stocked.

 

She immediately regretted opening the wardrobe door.

 

"Calamity's cupcake," she breathed, jaw dropping--and not in the good way. "It looks like a unicorn coughed up a hairball."

 

If you had showed primitive man the abomination within the wardrobe, he would have decided that running naked across the savannah was a pretty good deal after all. It was more lace than it was fabric; more frills than it had visible arm or head holes. Even if Sam hadn't witness its maker's insanity firsthand, she'd have concluded that this piece of clothing had been designed by a disturbed and broken mind, and that it should probably be burned with the supervision of a Catholic priest.

 

Pursing her lips and tightening her towel, Sam took off down the halls of the cottage. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, or who--all she knew was that she'd wear one of Funtimes' window curtains before she let that travesty of a dress touch her skin.

 

Fortunately, it didn't take long for her to find Nathan, already dressed in his stylish trenchcoat and staring appraisingly at a jug of milk and carton of eggs.

 

Sam tiptoed into the room, determined that Funtimes was not visibly present, and leaned towards Nathan over the counter.

 

"We have a problem," she said seriously, ignoring the water she was dripping on the floor. Nathan's eyes at once filled with concern.

 

"The problem," Sam continued, "is that I can't reach the drapes on my own, and if I wore the dress Funtimes made for me I'd probably have to kill myself for defiling my body."

 

 

 

     

 

 

"Why did you give gold to the cat?" Lightwards asked severely, gun locked, loaded, and pointed at Backtrack's forehead.

 

"I, I don't know!" Backtrack stammered. "Honest!"

 

Though Lightwards was upset, Neko the kitty seemed pretty content. She was sitting on the desk cleaning herself, her paws rubbing at her face and then polishing the shiny gold medal hanging around her neck. She hopped to the hard floor and began purring loudly, rubbing against Backtrack's ankles.

 

"Cats don't need gold," Reader said snottily from his bar stool. "Steven's screwing up again..."

 

"It wasn't my fault!" Backtrack protested again, almost yelling. Prehistoric fish swam past him, though he didn't recall activating his power. Ignoring this, he locked eyes with Reader, who was shirtless in a loincloth with a feathered headdress perched upon his head.

 

"Everything's your fault, Steven," Reader replied, amused. "Your past is littered with mistakes. Don't you see them?"

 

Now his powers came on, and the past flared up around him. Everywhere he turned he saw himself, bullied, scared, crying, grinning like a slontze...

 

He was a slontze.

 

Everywhere, everytime.

 

Backtrack fell to his knees, trying to hold back tears. "You... you don't get it," he managed to sputter out. "Those are just mistakes! Were just mistakes, I mean! They don't matter! I don't have to remember them!"

 

"But we will," a pair of voices sang in unison. Backtrack looked up in horror, to see MV and Impact giggling at him from above.

 

"He's kind of cute when he cries," MV teased.

 

"Yeah, but not guy cute," Impact added. "More like a sad puppy."

 

Backtrack moved his mouth, but words wouldn't come out no matter how hard he tried. The girls continued laughing, pointing out all the sobbing and slontzey Backtracks whose past-shadows were everywhere on the street.

 

Then Neko the kitty walked up to his face, but instead of purring, she was grinning with a mouth full of human teeth. And then she stood up in her hind legs, and before his horrified face she grew to ten feet tall, growing blonde hair and a pale face. Her fur became a billowing purple cloak, and the golden medal around her neck moved to her head and became a thin circlet.

 

"Look at the Backtrack," crooned Koschei the Deathless. "A failure in all things. Look at him. He has more mistakes in him than he has brains."

 

MV and Impact giggled, and suddenly they were hugging Koschei from both sides.

 

"You're way cuter than he is, Koschei the Deathless," MV said adoringly.

 

"He doesn't even compare," Impact snickered.

 

Koschei pulled MV close and kissed her passionately on the lips, then broke off and smirked. "Let's laugh at Backtrack," he decreed, voice booming with laughter, and the twins followed the order, laughing themselves, and then Reader with his headdress joined in, and then Lightwards started laughing too, and they were all laughing and pointing at him and all his pathetic past-shadows...

 

"Stop it!" He shrieked. "Those aren't me! They're just mistakes! That's all they are! I don't have to remember them! I don't have to remember them!"

 

Silverfish scurried around his feet, Koschei gave another raucous laugh, and the world exploded.

 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Backtrack woke with a start, a high-pitched whine escaping his lips.

 

He wasn't on the street. There were no silverfish. There was no evil kitty-Koschei laughing at him.

 

He was in a car, within the ruins of an old parking garage they'd decided to spend the night in.

 

MV was in the seat beside him, still fast asleep.

 

Backtrack let out a relieved sigh, then put his head back against the seat. He could see bright sunlight streaming in from the other end of the parking garage, but he felt little motivation to get out of the truck and began his tasks.

 

Why should I rush? I'm just gonna get pushed around and threatened when I do get back to Lightwards.

 

Deciding that he could probably afford to stay still for a little while longer, or at least until MV woke up, he closed his eyes and elected to ignore the morning sunlight.

 

It's going to be one of those days, isn't it?

 

 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

 

“And do you, Our Most Divine Hand-God, solemnly swear to uphold the old-fashioned American values that have made Socktopia the great nation it is today?”

 

“My…my name is Nathan…”

 

“Your name, Oh Great One, is far too sacred to be spoken aloud. We shall call you Divinity of the Hands.”

 

“Nathan is fine, guys. Really.” He cast a glance to the left. Thousands of sock puppets blinked googly eyes, smiled, or wiped tears. How he knew they were smiling, he wasn’t sure. It was hard to tell with sock puppets.

 

“Will you, Your Holiness, affirm the greatness of each Puppet, from the tiny pink baby socks to the enormous knee socks with electric lights embedded?”

 

“Am I still in the walk-in freezer?” A glance to the right showed millions of puppets in more designs than he knew existed. “I…I just came here for some butter. Fortuity gets cranky if he doesn’t get his butter platters on time.”

 

The Freehand Judge gasped, his sock lips pursing in disgust. “Your Holiness, you are above such menial things as platters and—and—butter!”

 

“But….he always gets a butter platter. Eats the whole thing without sharing.”

 

“You mustn’t concern yourself with such things, Your Holiness. Now. Do you promise to rule justly, with an open palm toward any who may seek justice?”

 

“Uh….”

 

“This is not a difficult question, Your Holiness. Now answer, or I’ll be forced to flunk you back to Kindergarten!”

 

He looked at the Freehand Judge, a stately beige sock with one googly eye replaced by a black button; the macaroni crown he intended to place upon Nathan’s head; at the coat of arms, a needle crossed over top of a thimble. He looked once more upon the sock puppets, as far as the eye could see, pressed so closely together that a gaze into the distance made him feel as though the crayon-shaded castle floated on a sea of color.

 

He knew what he was supposed to say, and how he was to say it. He should have drawn himself up with a stately air and said, “I, Nathan Sperry, Hand-God of the Northern Climes, solemnly swear to uphold these oaths that you had just sitting around for some reason and be the greatest Hand-God ever!”

 

“How’d you build all of this without any hands?”

 

The Freehand Judge’s lips pursed so tightly together Nathan thought he might implode on his own indignation. There were shouts, cries, the sound of weeping, hands on his shoulders, wrapping around him, squeezing him tight and abruptly letting go….

 

------------------------------------

 

Nathan opened his eyes to the bedroom he shared with Funtimes and no sock puppets in sight.

 

Not yet, anyway. Funtimes was still asleep.

 

He pulled the curtains forward just enough to catch a glimpse of the sky. Sunlight streamed through the crack, reminding him once again how very far he was from Newcago, Fortuity, and his nonexistent butter platters.

 

What the hell, brain?

 

Letting the curtain fall back, Nathan sat up just enough to get a good look at his self-proclaimed girlfriend. With how she acted in her waking hours, he fully expected to see her smiling in her sleep, perhaps giggling at something only she could see.

 

A deep frown creased her face. Her hands had balled into fists around the covers, and she let out a soft whimper. A nightmare, then?

 

Did Epics even have nightmares?

 

He chewed his lip, unsure what to do. Waking her would end it, but there was no telling how she would react. Would she be grateful that he had ended her nightmare—or furious that he had witnessed it? Maybe he should just get out of bed and pretend to have been up for hours.

 

If he did something nice for her while he was at it….

 

Nathan gingerly rolled out of bed, tiptoed to the closet, and loaded his arms up with his suit and duster, keeping one eye on Funtimes. She continued to sleep, still frowning, still clutching handfuls of the blankets.

 

-------------------------------------

 

Milk. And eggs.

 

That was what the refrigerator held. A jug of milk and a carton of eggs. No butter, though that might be for the best.

 

Just for the heck of it, Nathan tried to picture Fortuity eating an entire platter of butter, a cube in each fist, taking bite after greedy bite, face and suit smeared with oil. 

 

The image came easily. Too easily.

 

What could you make with milk and eggs, anyway? Scrambled eggs was the obvious answer, but Funtimes would probably expect something more exciting. Fried eggs were an option, but that left milk as the only side dish, which wasn’t exciting in the slightest.

 

He checked the freezer and found only two tubs of ice cream, both full of caramel fudge brownie. Milkshakes, then? Scrambled eggs and milkshakes? Funtimes might like that, truth be told….

 

Nathan took the milk and eggs from the fridge and set them on the counter. Perhaps seeing them in a new setting might inspire him. Maybe, if there was some flour lying around, he could make some simple crepes. Were blackberries still in season? Maybe he could convince Sam and Revolution to go pick some….

 

As if summoned by the thought, Sam stormed into the kitchen, wrapped in the fuzziest pink towel he had ever seen. Her hair dripped water. She trailed it with every step. Her scowl would give Steelheart pause.

 

“We have a problem,” she said without a trace of humor.

 

Lucentia’s back?

 

“The problem is that I can’t reach the drapes on my own, and if I wore the dress Funtimes made for me I’d probably have to kill myself for defiling my body.”

 

Oh. That. He nearly laughed in relief, but caught himself just in time. This was a problem. Not as dire as Lucentia and her brother storming the cottage, but Funtimes wouldn’t see it that way.

 

“Well,” Nathan said slowly, trying to work out a solution as he went, “the night she gave me this suit, a pink tux was the first thing she thought of. I think she wanted to make me a suit to match her dress, socks and all. And those socks are kind of awesome, but the rest of it, not so much.”

 

He could almost see her preparing a snide retort.

 

“Just try talking to her, okay? That’s what I did. Don’t get angry, and don’t tell her you don’t like what she made for you, but….you know, try suggesting a few changes. The whole reason I got something I could live with is because she liked what I picked. Be nice, but—“

 

“Nathan?”

 

Perfect. Funtimes stood in the kitchen doorway, still in her pink turtle-patterned pajamas and rubbing sleep from her eyes. He put on a smile. “Morning, sweetie. I was just going to make breakfast for all of us, and I was wondering if you knew where the….”

 

He trailed off, because she clearly wasn’t listening. Her attention was all on Sam, a look of confusion replacing grogginess.

 

“Sammy? I made you a dress—didn’t you find it?”

 

Just perfect. 

[mail-mi]

Sluggish and bleary-eyed, Timeport swung his axe and chopped off the head of his upteenth manikin that night.

He’d been up all night practicing. At first he’d tried to practice on some of the vanillas living around in Corpsemaker’s territory, but the they kept running away and screaming and generally making things difficult. Why should they run and scream anyway? Don’t they know that we are their gods, and they should be happy to sacrifice themselves to us? Unfortunately, the vanillas themselves hasn't yet realized that that was the only thing that they were good for, so eventually Timeport had to move on to manikins.

The sun was just starting to shine through the small windows of the armory basement as he shoved the beheaded manikin away and moved towards the next one. His axe dragged on the floor; he was unsure how he’d made it through the entire night without collapsing. Maybe just a few winks would be a good idea... he thought, eyeing a particularly comfortable looking spot on the ground.

Immediately he halted that train of thought and told himself off. No! If I go to sleep they’ll just come back... the nightmares... the horrible horrible nightmares....

That day at the pool....

The darkness slowly sliding over him...

NO!

In fury Timeport blindly swung his axe and carved the manikin in front of him in half. The other unfortunate thing about using manikins was the lack of the beautiful screams. There wasn’t anything quite like the screams of helpless victims as Timeport ported towards them, raising his axe to strike.

...that was, if he could find the energy to even lift the axe. Timeport glanced out the small window and saw the sun starting to peek over the horizon. It’s daytime. Time to see if his plan would work.

Setting down his axe, Timeport walked over to the gun he’d stolen from upstairs and picked it up. He cocked it, and then, like the game of Russian Roulette everyone always mocked, put it up to his forehead and pulled the trigger.

Five minutes later, Timeport got up from where his body had transported, completely refreshed and ready for whatever the day would bring to him. Picking up his axe, he ported up the stairs a couple of times until he was standing on the upper level, ready for whatever orders Corpsemaker was going to give him. Edited September 29, 2015 by mail-mi

[Edgedancer]

Lucentia slowly awoke from the twisting of her nightmares. “Good morning sleepyhead.”

 

All signs of sleepiness were gone and she shot up in her bed, spikes spreading out around her. She quickly found that her brother was sitting a bit away from her, holding a rather shabby book away from the spikes.

 

“What in Calamity’s name are you doing watching me while I’m seeping?” She hissed at him.

 

“Why, just using the chance to see how my adorable little sister grew up since I’ve last seen her.” Feeling a cold sensation creep up her body she stabbed Nighthound through his chest with one of the spikes. “Alright, alright, I give up and I wasn’t just watching you sleep.” He said, while casually clapping his hand against the spike.

 

Reluctantly she pulled the spike back, “Fine what do you want then?”

 

“Oh, I just meant to ask you a favor before Lightwards goes all tin emperor on us again. By the way, how high do you think the chances are that Funtimes bugged the place?”

 

Higher than I would like given she managed to get this thing airborne. “Of course that brainless idiot wouldn’t think of that.” Lucentia said, giving a perfectly dismissive seeming wave.

 

“Seems we are in agreement there,” Nighthound said while he casually jumped to his feet.

 

Holding to their unspoken agreement to not talk about more essential matters until they were in a place Funtimes hadn’t got her fingers on she followed her brother. He led her back to the place she chained the woman yesterday. C4 was actually in a better condition than she expected, not that her condition was good in any way. Swallow cuts were draw over most her body, starting on her legs and stopping only shortly under her neck, intermixed with some deeper ones and her clothes were cut and ripped apart to the point they did not actually deserve to be called clothes anymore but it seemed that her brother didn’t do anything to her that would leave lasting damage, except potentially scars. 

 

While Lucentia examined her, Nighthound went over to Ray, huddled into a corner and victim to a very unrestful dream. He simply yanked her up to her feet, with no hint of gentlness and dragged her behind himself. She did not take kindly to the rough awakening but couldn’t do much to resist.

 

“I take it you want me to lower her again.” Lucentia said to her brother once he stood next to her. He nodded in response and Lucentia let C4’s restrains crumble. The pitiful little wench hurriedly got on her knees and turned towards Nighthound, who moved his hand through her hair, “Well aren’t you just a cute little doll? You’ll make sure to keep to our deal, yes?”

 

The response of C4 was a pitiful sound that sounded like that bad imitation of a bark.

 

“Is there any other of your past times we’ll have to endure this morning or can we start doing our work?” Lucentia asked Nighthound, starting to get feed up with having to watch his antics.

[Kobold King]

 

 

For one irritating moment, Nathan looked on the verge of laughing.

 

Fortunately, he quickly seemed to pick up on the seriousness of the situation, and began solemnly pondering a solution. "The night she gave me this suit, a pink tux was the first thing she thought of," he explained slowly. "I think she wanted to make me a suit to match her dress, socks and all. And those socks are kind of awesome, but the rest of it, not so much.”

 

The thought of Nathan sliding around Newcago in a pair of rainbow stockings was both hilarious and mildly unsettling. Sam wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.

 

“Just try talking to her," Nathan went on, smiling encouragingly. "That’s what I did. Don’t get angry, and don’t tell her you don’t like what she made for you, but….you know, try suggesting a few changes. The whole reason I got something I could live with is because she liked what I picked. Be nice, but—“

 

Sam was hanging on to every word, but his words of wisdom were interrupted by a familiar voice. A voice that managed to be irritatingly gooey even in mid-yawn.

 

"Nathan?"

 

Nathan's guide to not being murdered or humiliated by Doctor Funtimes was interrupted by the psycho in pink herself, standing in the doorway with an air of grogginess about her. Nathan immediately tried to divert her attention with talk of breakfast, but her eyes were already locked her prey.

 

“Sammy?" she asked, voice confused--and maybe a touch accusing. "I made you a dress—didn’t you find it?”

 

Sam blinked, looked down at her towel, and grinned back at her captor nervously. "Oh, yeah, of course I found it!"

 

Found it utterly detestable, that is.

 

"It's great," she lied, shooting Nathan a glance. He gave her an encouraging smile, so she took a deep breath and continued. 

 

"It's just... don't you think it's a little girly? You know... not really my style?"

 

And by that, what I really mean is "designed by a psychotic four year-old whose mother is too scared of her to veto her dress decisions."

 

Instead of speaking those words, which would probably have her towel changed to acid before she could finish the word 'psychotic,' she flipped through her memory for gothic-inspired dresses. She'd seen a few, and while she was hardly an expert from the single goth magazine she had stashed back at home, the word "Lolita" came to mind.

 

Funtimes was looking increasingly confused and hurt by the second. "Pink's awesome," Sam said hurriedly, "but I was hoping for something more subtle. And simple. And... not so lacey. Maybe... something black with pink highlights?"

 

She finished with a hopeful smile, not quite making eye contact with the Doctor but keeping her gaze in her general direction. While also suppressing her wondering how long she'd survive if she dropped her towel and ran off into the woods to live on berries and roots.

 

Sparks. If an Epic kills me, I'd rather it be over something more important than a dress.

 

[Voidus]

Skipping through central Portland with somewhat less of a spring in her step than usual, Neverthere looked up towards the museum floating in the distance.

Things should be picking up there soon. The teleporter wasn't there before, she must be sleeping elsewhere. Infighting? Or is it for her protection? But where would be safer than a flying fortress filled with Epics and dinosaurs?

Picking apart the problem as she skipped along, Neverthere projected herself at random, appearing in a few houses and businesses. Taking a stern look around and then projecting out again.

Lucentia is the more obvious point of contention for now. Why would she be in Portland? Why ally with Lightwards? Is she hoping to expand her territory?

An ambitious project if true. Very few Epics managed to hold more than one city for any significant length of time. Maybe she should pay a more official visit to the museum, reveal her presence and try to gather some more information. If the teleporter was fighting with lightwards as well that gave her three potential factions to play against each other, that should allow plenty of leeway.

Drawing herself up and putting on her most Neverthere smile, she projected herself upwards to the museum, picturing Lucentia in her mind to guide her she reformed in a small room with several others. It seemed the diamond queen had not been idle this morning.

A battered figure crawling on the floor was quickly recognized as C4, a recognition that almost immediately worried Neverthere.

Catching C4's eyes, which had suddenly begun to glow with the faintest glimmer of hope, Neverthere shook her head slightly.

Not now, I'll deal with you later.

"Morning Lucy!" Neverthere said chirpily, ignoring C4 and the other broken woman standing behind a male Epic and shooting daggers at him when he wasn't watching.

"Did you have fun last night?"
 

A gentle brush on her ear woke MV, her heart still racing from a night of exhausted sleep and nightmares she immediately looked around for danger.

After a moment she realized that her head had simply fallen onto Backtracks shoulder.

Flushing with embarrassment, she stretched, craning her neck until she felt a satisfying crack!

Turning to look at her companion, she watched his eyes flutter open, evidently having woken up already. Quickly averting her gaze she realized something.

"You- Your glasses!" She yelled suddenly, panicked "You left them in the Dalles you stupid Slontze!" Pummeling Backtracks arm with her fists she quickly realized what she was doing and felt another flush suffuse her cheeks.

"Not- Not that I care or anything, they just made you look cool. For you I mean. Cool for you. And..."
Stop talking Megan. A small voice said in the back of her head, sounding as ever like her sister scolding her.

Noisily clearing her throat she confronted the incredibly confused Backtrack.

"So. What are we going to do?"
 

[Edgedancer]

Before Nighthound could answer Lucentia’s question a woman appeared in the room. She greeted Lucentia in an awfully cheerful manner, "Morning Lucy! Did you have fun last night?" It has probably been years since Nighthound witnessed anyone besides Bloody Mary showing this much enthusiasm around his sister. He could only assume that it was a bad sign.

 

Another thing that didn’t escape his notice was a shift in C4, seems like he would get his chance to beat the last bit of hope out of her. Judging from what he got out of her the visitor was Neverthere, a troublesome little astral projector.

 

“How pleasant that you don’t need me for anything else.” Lucentia said to Nighthound and simply walked through Neverthere’s projection, not giving the slightest hint that she was acknowledging its existence, which told Nighthound two things. She was not worried about Neverthere appearing here, so she knew about her and did not consider her an an outright threat. However, she also didn’t bother with even a hint of courtesy, meaning there was no form of alliance either. Seeing how Lucentia did seem to have a pretty good idea what was going on yesterday and that Neverthere referenced last night, his best guess was that she had tried to get a foot into another faction, maybe even all of them, by turning traitor and giving a warning about the attack, in which case she would also have sold out her self-proclaimed friend.

 

Lovely.

 

Of course he would seem like a stupid Slontze, should he just blurt out that theory and turn out to be wrong and right now asking his sister for the details would be futile. Best to stay a bit ambiguous with what he was about to say.   

 

Not giving Neverthere a chance to react to Lucentia plainly ignoring her he tried to address her himself, “Neverthere, right? I take it I have you to thank you for my new cute companion here, right?” Nighthound said, while putting a hand on C4’s head.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

 

There was a dress in Sammy's closet, and she was wearing a towel. A pink, fluffy towel that wasn't a dress. A pink, fluffy towel that wasn't the dress, the dress Doctor Funtimes had made for her. The one that she'd spent extra time on to make sure it had enough ruffles to hold all the lace, enough lace to decorate all the ruffles, and a nice big bow to keep the whole thing from looking silly. 

 

"It's just... don't you think it's a little girly? You know... not really my style?"

 

She had gotten up in the middle of the night to make that dress, when her nightmares had driven her from sleep. The ruffles had made her smile. The lace had made her grin. Funtimes remembered hiding it in Sammy's closet, clapping her hands, imagining the enormous smile that was sure to light her face when she found it...

 

Not really my style. 

 

She didn't like it. 

 

It wasn't that she hadn't seen the dress—that would be okay because then there was still a chance she'd see it and want to hug it forever—but she'd seen it and she'd said "Not my style." And now she was standing there in a towel, still dripping water all over the floor. Why? Why was she still wet? 

 

She hated the dress. Hated hated hated it. Hated it so much she'd rather wear a towel and watery hair than anything in her closet. 

 

Tears caught in Funtimes' throat. That dress was a gift and she hated it. She hated a gift, a beautiful gift, and if she hated something pretty then maybe she'd rather—

 

"Pink's awesome, but I was hoping for something more subtle. And simple. And... not so lacey. Maybe... something black with pink highlights?"

 

Pink's awesome. 

 

I was hoping. 

 

Those words stopped Funtimes' thoughts in their tracks. 

 

Pink's awesome. Sammy liked pink. She liked the color. Funtimes was right and she didn't hate the color. 

 

I was hoping. She…she wanted a gift. She was hoping for a gift. Hoping Funtimes would give her a dress, which she had. 

 

It was just that the dress she'd gotten hadn't been the one she wanted. It'd been close, but still not exact. Like when Santa brought Pony Friends instead of My Little Pony toys. Close, but still not it. That was what Sam's hopeful smile said. It didn't say I hate you and everything you've ever made for me; it said ​I wish Santa had brought me a different present. 

 

Funtimes wasn't Santa. 

 

She was better.

 

"Okay," she said. The giggle she'd planned wound up limping out of her mouth, but that was all right. "Black. With pink." 

 

Sam gave a small nod, still smiling. 

 

Funtimes thought, for an instant, about going and getting the dress, but this wasn't a time for going and getting things. She waved her hand over Sam's towel, changing the color from pink to black, fastening it in place so it was more of a short, strapless number that looked suspiciously like a towel. She moved some of the material up and over Sam's shoulders, making ruffled cap sleeves and a deep scoop neck. 

 

So cute. 

 

She was smiling now, the excitement of creation sending a dozen different ideas to her brain all at once, all shouting and clamoring to be used. She stretched the towel down to Sam's knees, turned it to silk, added a few ruffles and realized she needed more stuff. 

 

Now. Now was a time for going and getting things. 

 

Funtimes scampered to the sofa, grabbed a throw pillow, and tossed it to Sammy, who caught it and held it to her chest, still looking confused. Confused was good. Confused meant she'd be surprised when Funtimes did what she was planning—and what she was planning happened in the next second when she turned the pillow black and silky and made it into ruffles. 

 

Cute cute cute! 

 

Clapping her hands, she grabbed another pillow and tossed it over, using it to make pretty pink lace, but not too much. Just some near the hem, and a wide pink ribbon belt, and a lacy overlay that had a few shinies embedded. Not too many, but still. It wouldn't be a nice dress without some shinies. A pair of black platform boots with pink laces finished it off. 

 

Gazing at Sam, hair still wet but not dripping so much, Funtimes could only clap her hands and squeal in glee. "You. Look. Amazing!" 

 

Funtimes couldn't resist. She dashed over and gave Sam a big hug, jumping up and down a little. "So amazingly amazing I want to take you everywhere so everyone can see how amazing you look! Eee!"

 

A sudden thought struck her, and she pulled back to meet Sammy's eyes. "Wait—where's Revvie? Did she find the dress I made her too?" 

[Voidus]

Watching a coldly disinterested Lucentia leave without saying a word to her Neverthere ran the possibilities, she was either attempting to show off that she didn't need to talk to other Epics or Neverthere had gotten under her skin in some way. Both could be used in their own way.

Quickly hiding her calculating gaze by scrunching up her eyes and sticking her tongue out at Lucentia's back she turned to the remaining Epic. Someone close to Lucentia in any case. A dangerous rival or an ally?

Sizing him up she thought it might have been a bit of both. He had a dangerous look about him, something that just urged her to run. But one thing Neverthere rarely had to worry about was how dangerous an Epic was. Unless they had some tracking powers then there weren't many who posed much of a danger to her.

“Neverthere, right? I take it I have you to thank you for my new cute companion here, right?”

How'd he know? Ah. C4 of course, little brat must have told them everything already.

Giggling at him, Neverthere waved her hand in an offhand manner.

"Oh please I didn't do much. Be careful though, she's not just a cute companion, she's also capricious." This set off another round of giggles as she tried to decide what to do.

"Hmmm... I wonder, if she's the cute capricious companion of Calamity and you're her companion doesn't that like- make you god?"

​Sketching out a mocking curtsy she shot a glare at C4 as she dipped her head.

What else did you tell them? I swear if anything happens this slontze will seem like prince charming compared to what I'll have in store.

[the winter system]

 

She was a failure. The only person who'd ever mattered was Dawn, nobody cared about the pathetic, ugly, stupid sister. At least when he hit Dawn, bruised her, it proved he actually payed attention to her. Bianca wasn't even worth the effort. 

When she cried, people asked what was wrong. When Bianca did, she was just doing it for attention even though she knew that's exactly what Dawn was doing. 

"Hey," a boy she thought was cute asked. They went to the same school and she'd noticed him watching her. Maybe, for once in her life, someone noticed her. The conversation they'd started was nice. For a moment, she thought he might actually be interested in her before-- "How's Dawn doing?"

Dawn this, Dawn that-- Bianca was here. She was real too. Why? Why didn't anyone care about her? 

"Why aren't you more like Dawn?" her teachers asked. 

"Why are you even trying? You're never going to be Dawn." 

"Why are you such a failure? Dawn, Dawn,Dawn--" Her name was said again and again, whispered and screamed inside of Bianca's skull. It was etched into her skin, carved as if with a knife, because DAWN DIDN'T DO THAT. DAWN WOULD BE SO DISAPOINTED IN YOU. 

againandagainandAGAINAND

And Red lunged up, eyes slamming open. Her heart beat faster. She hadn't been that girl since she left Miami, with a trail of corpses behind. Crimson and Gem-

Dawn.

Red had killed her. The golden girl. The one they wanted more than Red. The one everyone in 

Red crossed her arms as she walked over to where C4, Ray, Lucentia and someone else was. Over the night, Red had found a nook to rest in. She'd watched Ray, C4, and Nighthound all night.

Lucky girl. C4 didn't know just how lucky she was. Nor did Ray. She sighed. If she'd picked someone without other slaves... Oh well. He was plenty attractive and having others meant he knew what he was doing, probably. 

Red watched the other girl who just appeared- Neverthere- speak.

"Hmmmm... I wonder, if she's the cute capricicious companion of Calamity and you're her companion, doesn't that like- make you god?" Neverthere said.

"Yes," Red said, "he is. Good morning."

 

Falling.

She was falling.

Falling.

So high.

Falling.

Frozen in terror-

Falling.

-but still

Falling.

Then the ground hit.

Cutcloud woke, breathing heavily. She was falling. Dizzy. Where was she?

She was falling.

No, she wasn't. She was on the ground, she had always been on the ground.

Good, the ground was where she was supposed to be.

Cutcloud got up, out of her small bed, and went into the room where the bathroom was. Though water didn't run, Cutcloud used the mirror to help put her long brown hair back in its braid. Her eyes were almond shaped and also almond colored. Her skin was a pale tan and she had a small nose. Her face was angular.

Cutcloud left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. Burnheart slept on a similar bed across the room. The building where the couple lived used to be a hotel, but the staff had long since gone. The main entrance to the building had collapsed and lots of the place was crushed, but there was a small section of rooms where they lived.

"Burn?" Cutcloud asked, shaking him. He had been trembling. Good for him to see a familiar face. "Another nightmare?"

"Yeah," he said, sitting up. "Did you have one too?"

"Another falling dream."

"Well, good morning." Burnheart stood. He wore a pair of orange leggings and a red t-shirt. Cutcloud had a white shirt and leggings. They got reasonably good clothes because they were Epics, but generally Minor Epics didn't want to stand out a lot. Chess was unique among their group in that regard. He hated being so weak.

Cutcloud banished all thoughts of her brother and went out into the hall. The rug had once been pretty but it was matted in dirt by now. "Chess? Lightbulb?" Lightbulb, in Cutcloud's opinion, was the worst name for an Epic or anyone- ever. Unfortunately, Lightbulb thought it was pure genius. "Vine?"

Vine, a tall man with curly brown hair, leaned out of an open door.

"Morning, Cutcloud. Restful night?" He asked. He had a light accent, though Cutcloud couldn't place it. Vine was a minor plant Epic, who could control how plants grew, but it took a while for the effects to be seen. He helped them be less conspicuous and gave them a steady supply of food.

"No." Cutcloud didn't go into details. "Is Chess up?"

"Never came back last night."

"Probably got lost somewhere, that stupid lump." Cutcloud shrugged. "He'll find his way back later."

"Always does." Vine chuckled. "By the way, Lightbulb went out already. Scavenging for breakfast."

"I thought we would harvest something."

"You know Lightbulb."

"Yeah, I do." Cutcloud sighed. "I'll start harvesting some apples. Lightbulb probably won't find anything."

Edited October 18, 2018 by winter devotion

[Edgedancer]

Nighthound watched Neverthere’s mannerism, there was clearly some deliberation hidden behind the waving and the giggling. It seems like she’s someone that he should keep an eye open for.  Their conversation was interrupted when Red came out of her hiding spot for the night and answered Neverthere making comparisons between himself and Calamity, "Yes," Red said, "he is. Good morning."

 

He stretched out on of his arms and waved Red over to take place in it. Ray of course used the chance to bolt away from him but there was something to be said about having someone docile in your grip first thing in the morning, plus it would be easier to shut her up if she was trying to interrupt their conversation again.

 

While Red made her way into his arm, Nighthound addressed Neverthere again, “My my, it’s nice to be appreciated but leaving titles aside I would like to think that both of us are too smart to simply hide behind flattery, even if it’s appropriate. Now, I’ll be so brazen and assume you aren’t altruistic enough to simply grace us with your presence, which knowing you for a scant couple of seconds, I’m sure is nothing short of delightful. It also seems too late to care for my new pet’s wellbeing.” C4, still shuffling next to Nighthound’s feet, didn’t seem to catch his deeper implications but that didn’t stop him from giving Neverthere a meaningful glance.

 

The glance took on another meaning as it slid down her body. Black hair curling around a cute young face adorned with a pair of glasses and a pen behind her ear. She wore a pink t-shirt, a short black skirt that gave a good view on her slender legs she was also barefoot, displaying a nice pair of soft feet, she could only keep thanks to running around as a projection. If not for the t-shirt's color and lack of shoes, she could pass as the kind of secretary that sleep with her boss and then blackmailed him with telling his wife about the affair. With them she seemed much more eccentric but not any less dangerous, a combination that wouldn’t make it harder for her to get into his bed, women with fire always have a certain something. Naturally, he knew that there wasn’t much point lusting after a woman that would do her best to only meet him as a projection of herself and with his three girls he already had enough that he wouldn’t have to get out of his way for another one, unless a good chance presented itself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his fun from looking.

 

“So,” he continued talking, ”how about you just tell me what you actually want from me?”

[Mailliw73]

Altermind had spent the night in the Planning Room again. Two nights in a row of sleeping at a desk gave him such a crick in the neck. The nightmares had happened again and, coupled with his neck, put him in a bad mood to start the day.

He pulled out his mobile and called Flashpoint. The electric Epic answered, not groggy in the slightest, only annoying Altermind more. "Flashpoint, I need you to meet with Gunz. He's at his normal place in the Trader Joe's to the east." Flashpoint answered with a snappy "Yes sir," before he hung up.

Altermind waited for Funtimes to arrive as he compiled a list of things she could make for him. He also continued to pore over Corpsemaker's Epics' profiles, looking for ways to beat them. The door to the planning room opened loudly and the always white-clad Voidgaze entered with that hamburger guy from the kitchens followed by a couple of his soldiers. Altermind glared at his door scribe for not alerting him to their presence before they entered, but he kept his hallucination cordial. "Yes?" He asked Voidgaze.

Flashpoint slung his new rifle over his shoulder and left with a squad of soldiers to meet Mr. Gunz. The weapons dealer was a prideful, annoying human, but he provided better weapons than most of the Northwest could get otherwise. He'd even named himself Gunz, with a Z, and if he hadn't been so useful, Flashpoint knew Altermind would've killed him the first time they met.

When they arrived at the old Trader Joe's not far from Thoughttown's borders, Flashpoint led the way into the store. The two guards at the front let him in with a glance at his cape. Altermind had done business with Gunz enough times for them to recognize him on sight.

The normally desolate shelves were stocked with all types of weapons and Epic tech. Only when Gunz came to town were there any people in the store. Flashpoint began browsing the gun shelves when the annoying, high-pitched voice came over. "Flashpoint! What a surprise to see you here! Altermind didn't mention you were coming. Come here! Look at this, it's new tech that no other dealer has yet! Remember that spider hero from the old comics? I have tech that can replicate those effects, letting you climb up walls with ease," Gunz shouted all at once. Flashpoint took a deep breath and nodded, following the short man through the aisles.

The Spider-Hands were useful and Flashpoint picked up a pair and handed it to one of his guards to carry for him. He tuned out most of Gunz's comments, listening only for useful equipment. He kept looking through the aisles, pulling off tech that looked useful and putting it in the shopping cart one of the guards pushed for him. He grabbed a couple of jetpacks, the last ones Altermind had bought were very useful. He also found some headbands that communicated telepathically-since Altermind's old friend had died in that fire, these would be useful. A couple of night vision goggles, not like the ones from the old days, these ones made night look just like day, and a couple cloaking devices.

"-no cooldown-" Flashpoint interrupted Gunz's current spiel and asked him about the newest weapons. "I have a flamethrower that won't run out of fuel but it needs a power source, a machine gun that doesn't need a cooldown, a homing gun, multiple-explosion rounds, grenade launchers, energy blasters,-" I can power the flamethrower easy enough and the homing gun sounds perfect. Flashpoint thought.

"That's enough. Give me the flamethrower, stashed of all those types of rounds, and a few energy blasters," Flashpoint cut off Gunz. The man nodded enthusiastically and gestured to his workers to gather the items. "Here's your payment." Flashpoint pulled out small containers from his pockets. They contained small cuttings of the Epics they had killed in Thoughttown the night before as well as a piece of Scorch. The traitor might as well earn them something. "Seven Epics. An energy manipulator, auditory illusionist, water manipulator, spaz attack creator, a few others, and you know Scorch," Flashpoint told the arms dealer. The man's eyes widened at Scorch's name.

"But, I thought-"

"Don't do that. It might hurt you. The backstabbing traitor didn't survive his encounter with his new employer." Flashpoint dropped the cases into Gunz's hand and turned to leave the store. His guards followed him with the equipment and loaded it into their truck. He flew above them on the way back to Thoughttown. Calamity, this job is lonely. And much too manly. Filled with men, that is. Why couldn't Altermind have had an attractive brunette instead of the idiot Scorch? Edited August 20, 2015 by Mailliw73

[Voidus]

Neverthere's grin widened slightly as she watched the Epic leering at her body, attempting to employ no subtlety whatsoever he brazenly stared at her legs.

Men are almost too easy sometimes. She mused to herself, shuffling plans around mentally to accommodate this new discovery, an Epic, apparently allied with Lightwards or at least working with him for now, clearly had some interests in women if the three others in the room were anything to go by.

Her gaze quickly shifted to the two unknowns.

Epics? The one who interrupted probably is. The other ones not from the MEE in any event but she doesn't exactly seem willing. Just a pretty girl he picked off the streets?

Filing the information away, Neverthere allowed her grin to slide. Sometimes it was worth being serious with people, this Epic wasn't exactly starved for feminine attention so she doubted that her usual act would distract him much.

"From you? Nothing in particular. I recognized Lucentia when I saw her last night and if I had to pick a contender for the inevitable battle for this city my votes probably with the guy with a dinosaur army, a floating fortress and allied with the Diamond Queen of Astoria. So I suppose the reason I'm here is to provide some assistance. Neverthere, master of espionage and intelligence at your service." She finished, sweeping another small curtsy before adopting her usual grin once more.

"Also, some meanie from Corpsemakers camp killed my boyfriend last night so I wanted to get Wardy to bring him back. It's so hard to find a man with a sense of humour and 6 inch teeth capable of tearing through steel."