What Happened in The Dalles

[Kobold King]

  

 

 

 

 

The final details of the story rattled off his tongue, and Backtrack finished the tale with "And then you shot me in the arm, meanieface!"

 

He tried to salvage some degree of dignity by glaring, taking a number of deep breaths to steady himself.

 

I hope you're happy now, you snooty slontze, he thought angrily.

 

It turned out Reader was happy now. His head tilted back in a loud, obnoxious laugh. He laughed and he laughed and he laughed.

 

"It's not funny!" Backtrack protested indignantly. "I'm having the worst day of my life here--"

 

If Reader had heard his voice over that grating laugh of his, he showed no sign of it. The Epic's laughter finally subsided, him putting a hand on his chest as if his deep amusement had put a stitch in his side.

 

"Now that," Reader said with a wide smile across his face, "that was entertaining." 

 

Backtrack felt his jaw drop furiously, but Reader ignored him and instead poured himself another tall goblet of wine.

 

"Care for some wine?" the Epic asked amiably.

 

Backtrack stared dumbly. "Would I care for some wine?" he repeated flatly. "Would I care for some wine?"

 

Though his flickering visions of the past showed him just how unoriginal the action was, rage and indignation triumphed over creative innovation. Backtrack furiously snatched the goblet from Reader's hand and threw it across the room, making it shatter and splash red wine across a wall.

 

"No I don't want any of your stupid wine!" he shouted. "I'M HAVING A BAD DAY, AND YOU'RE A BIG PART OF THE REASON WHY!"

 

He pulled himself out of the chair with his uninjured arm and began angrily pacing across the office. "You're insane! Just completely sparking out of your mind! You just shot me, for Calamity's sake! You can take that bottle and you can... you can..."

 

Feeling slightly faint, Backtrack slid back into his chair and scowled balefully. "You're an awful person," he accused. "Just a really, sparking awful person. I don't want to wreak havoc in your stupid city. I just want to go back to Portland and hang out with the awful people I chose to hang out around. Is that too much to ask?"

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[the winter system]

    Cassie closed her eyes, wincing as another wave of pain washed over her. It had been happening all day, for strange reasons. She could be walking, looking for something. She could be sitting, thinking about her decisions. Cassie pulled herself aside of traffic. She winced. 

"Ow!" She screamed, and then muffled her scream with her hand. No, she shouldn't draw attention! But weren't there some Epics who could heal? She had heard that they could. Cassie ran down an ally, collapsing at the end.

   Cassie felt tense, like a string ready to snap. This had been bothering her. Cassie had dealt with enough, she had gotten here, but a little pain could debilitate her so easily? Cassie growled under her breath. The air grew misty around her. A cloud formed around her. Cassie barely noticed, so bad was it. Cassie stood up and kicked the wall of the building. A burst of mist erupted and she floated up. 

   Cassie yelped in surprise, the pain fading to a dribble. What was happening? Should she feel afraid? No, she wasn't. Why would she be afraid, she knew what this was. Cassie had heard the rumors of what happened when a new Epic discovered their powers, but she had assumed it was exaggerated. Now a storm of the mists erupted around her. She was floating. Mists flew around her. The air was cold, but she didn't feel anything. Her mind grew icy cold, like the storm of ghosts that floated around her. 

 

Cassandra was an Epic. 

[mail-mi]

 

There goes another goblet, Reader thought sadly. 

 

"Would I care for some wine?" Steven sad flatly, looking at Reader with growing rage. "Would I care for some wine?" He reached forward and grabbed the half-filled goblet from Reader's hand and threw it across the room. The glass shattered into a million pieces, and a splash of red wine landed on Reader's collar. Oh, bother, he thought. 

 

"No I don't want any of your stupid wine!" Steven shouted. "I'M HAVING A BAD DAY, AND YOU'RE A BIG PART OF THE REASON WHY!" He clamored out of his chair and, holding his shot arm in his other hand, started to pace around his office. "You're insane! Just completely sparking out of your mind! You just shot me, for Calamity's sake! You can take that bottle and you can... you can..." He slid back down into his chair with a sigh, then gave Reader his fiercest glare, which looked a bit pathetic with his pink sunglasses now crooked on his face. "You're an awful person," he accused. "Just a really, sparking awful person. I don't want to wreak havoc in your stupid city. I just want to go back to Portland and hang out with the awful people I chose to hang out around. Is that too much to ask?"

 

Reader put on the saddest, most sarcastic face he could. "Oh, you're having a bad day? That's too bad. Unfortunately for you Steven, you came to the Dalles, and the Dalles is my territory. Everything you know belongs to me." 

 

Then, Reader Read something about Steven that made him want to start laughing again. Oh, he still thinks that? Oh man, this'll be great. Reader put on his most genuine smile--an evil one. 

 

"And everything I own belongs to Koschei the Deathless." 

 

"Do better next time."  Event Horizon grabbed Aura around the waist and launched into the sky, leaving BusDriver behind. 

 

BusDriver gaped as the two Epics disappeared from sight. They just left me! The slontzes! Just because I accidentally crashed the sparking bus! Shaking his head angrily, he reached down and picked out a blade of grass, then started to hike back up the hill to the road. Good riddance, then, he thought, setting the blade of grass on the asphalt. I don't need them anyway. See if they get to ride in one of my buses again! Next time, I'll let the bus shrink with them inside of it, the slontzes! He reached down and touched the blade of grass, then ran off so he'd be a safe distance away. Five seconds later, the blade of grass was no longer there, but instead a long yellow school bus stood in its place. Fortunately, BusDriver could put a slight timer on the effects so he wasn't suddenly blasted away when the small blade of grass turned into a giant bus. He climbed into the bus, pulled the door shut, and started to drive. 

 

He didn't head directly back to Quicksilver. He needed some time to think, some time to brood. Sparking Epics. Every single one of the slontzes thinks they're all high and mighty, that they're the best and deserve to be in charge. They think they can just push poor little BusDriver around and walk all over him like he's some sparking rug. Well, we'll just see about that! BusDriver is not a rug to be walked over! Soon, I'll be in charge, and everything will be right. And maybe then I'll get some sparking respect. 

 

He was so busy with his thoughts of revenge that he almost didn't notice the mist. When he did, he slammed on the breaks and looked out his window. Down an alleyway just in front of the bus, mist was pouring out in gratuitous amounts, like 8 fog machines had been put to "insane" mode and left to billow. He put the bus into park, then stepped out. That could be an Epic. BusDriver thought. And if it is, I can recruit them or kill them, depending on what they do, and--maybe--I can get promoted from sparking Head of Transportation. 

 

BusDriver touched the bus, and it shrunk back down into the blade of grass. With the 3 buses down at HQ, that left him 7 buses that he could make and leave as buses. He walked cautiously over to the alley, and peered into the mist. 

 

"Who's there?" 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[Voidus]

"It would stop her just long enough for me to deal with you two.  Now you say that you have peaceful intentions, but that is a threat, and as such shows that to be a lie."

MV fumed at the newest arrival, couldn't the slontze tell the difference between a threat and a statement of fact?

"Trust me, when I'm making threats you'll know it. This was just a polite reminder that restraining people like us does very little to hinder us but an awful lot to make us angry. So if we're all done with smiling til our teeth hurt and threatening each other by turns would you mind letting us know what the Sparking hell is going on? You keep acting like we're the ones who need to prove something to you or else, you're the ones who kidnapped two nineteen year old girls at gunpoint, shot someone in front of us and are now continuing to hold us captive. So you'd best explain why we shouldn't send you off for execution, not the other way around." MV paused for breath, looking towards the new man.
"See? That's a threat."

Impact groaned next to her.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

 

Keep Reader in line. 

 

There was more to Autumn's job description, but that was what it boiled down to. Be the good cop to his bad. The yin to his very smug yang. The sweet honey to his salty, rancid peanut butter. She was there to be his opposite, calm and controlled where he was passionate and obstinate; ruled by logic when his emotions took the reins. Her task in this situation, as in all others like it, was to use her knowledge to work out a solution that did not involve a double execution. But at that moment, defusing the situation was the last thing she wanted. 

 

What she wanted was to sit down, raise her clipboard, and beat herself into unconsciousness. 

 

Hydron. He had to do it. Had to waltz in and steal her thunder, bluster and attempt to frighten two potentially dangerous Epics. Had to ignore everything said in what had been, to that point, a perfect interrogation. Had to give the more emotional twin an excuse to snap. Had to act like a storming Epic. 

 

Autumn shot him a glare. When I'm through here, the glare said, Vondra is going to hear about this.

 

She wanted to scream. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw her clipboard. She wanted to grab each twin by the collar and explain, in great detail, exactly how executions were conducted for Epics who couldn't be shot, ending with an introduction to the three who would carry out their sentence. She wanted to see them pale and agree to her terms. Instead, Autumn drew a long, composing breath and spoke, softly and evenly. 

 

"I wasn't trying to threaten you. And those soldiers weren't trying to kidnap you; they were just following our laws. One of those laws says that any Epics found within city limits or the surrounding farms—yes, even those that aren't occupied—are to be brought to Reader and I so we can determine exactly how much of a threat they pose to citizens here. In a perfect world, we would simply trust you to do the right thing, but this world isn't perfect. We don't know you're not a threat. We can't know. So we do these interrogations with you, just like with any other Epic we find, to determine whether or not you're likely to go off on a killing spree. I'm willing to believe you aren't, but you have to prove it. If you can prove you're not a threat to the people of The Dalles, we'll give you a choice: Stay and work for the City Guard, or leave.  If you leave, we'll have a few soldiers escort you out, and then you're free to go on your way. No tricks. No threats. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I have to follow our laws, and if you want me to trust you, you have to show me you're trustworthy. All right?" 

 

She looked at each girl in turn, praying silently. Please, God, help them not to be idiots. 

Edited October 22, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[the winter system]

   "Uh..." She said, pulling quickly back on the mist. The clouds from above seemed to be disappearing as the mist appeared. Strange. The air was cool. Cassie looked down and shrieked again. She was see through and floating. The cloud collapsed, but immediately reformed, smaller. "I just came into my powers." Cassie tried to explain, avoiding throwing the paving at the man. "I didn't mean to...uh, attack you."

    Cassie shrieked, hearing someone. An explosion of ghostly mists raced out. Cassie tried to pull it back in, but instead they flew faster. The mists sliced through the air like paper, grabbing the man who was there. The asphalt ripped up from the ground. flying towards him.

    Cassie thought down. She came tumbling down to the ground, but landed without a thud. Her feet melted out into flat mist, but then it reformed. Her mist was slightly colored but faded. Cassie realized that she needed to introduce herself to this man as someone. She decided her new Epic name would be Mistwraith, after a couple minutes of thought. "I'm Mistwraith. Who are you?"

Edited October 25, 2014 by pir2h

[Mailliw73]

"Heya Edgey. Don't know if you got the memo yet--Command Post Tango's been hit. We've gotta check it out." Edgerunner heard Wilbert's, or Glamour, as he preferred, voice say to her. She would prefer that too, if her name was Wilbert Abners. He annoyed the sparks out of her. With those headphones on all the time, always insulting everyone. Ugh. He was just plain rude.

"Heya Wilby," she responded, mimicking Glamour's tone. She made sure to use his real name as often as possible, just to annoy him back. "Let's go then." Glamour just yawned and followed behind her as he always did. Hopefully this was one of those times where he kept his mouth shut for the most part. Did she hear faint tango music coming from him? How typical. They go to Post Tango, and Glamour begins playing tango music. How cheesy. Why had Vondra assigned him to accompany her? She could take care of herself and the soldiers all hated him anyway. Even someone like Deathwish they held in higher regard. Glamour was obnoxious and unhelpful. There was no point at all for him to be around. He didn't even have very useful powers. Edgerunner would leave him in the dust right now if she knew she wouldn't be severely punished for it.

The whole way to the command post, Edgerunner alternated from trying to block Glamour out of her mind and thinking about his annoying habits. He tended to throw little shimmers on things or rainbows and lights. He occasionally made a small rock invisible and Edgerunner kicked it, hurting her toe. He looked away when she turned to fix him with a glare, but she scowled and ignored it. That was the best way to deal with Glamour. Ignore him and he would get bored. Usually.

Post Tango wasn't too far so they arrived fairly quickly. The building was silent and still. There was no sign of movement. That was usually a bad sign. Edgerunner and Glamour went into the building, ready to fight. Edgerunner kept one of her knives in her hand. She was poised and ready for a surprise attack. No one was on the main floor. That usually meant there were no survivors. Vondra would want them to check the entire building though. Edgerunner went over to the door that opened to the stairwell as a man stumbled out that door. She instantly crouched, ready to lunge and flip her gravity. He was a regular. She could tell. They all had a lack of pride in their eyes.

"Who are you?" Edgerunner asked. Glamour cleared his throat obnoxiously and gestured towards the man's hands. Edgerunner looked and widened her eyes in surprise. The man had no hands. His arms ended in stumps at the wrist and were capped in metal. A raised mark of a slightly-unsheathed sword confirmed it for her. "Quicksilver," Edgerunner muttered with disgust. Sparks, that man was evil. He killed and robbed at his pleasure.

The man nodded and began to mutter, face pale, ready to faint, "Qui-Quick. Quicksilver has a message. Assassinations displease him. V-Vondra has let his empire go to his head. Vondra is n-not the only one with power. He can keep his kingdom, but no fighting Quicksilver. Or t-there will be s-s-suffering." The man swayed and slid down the wall. Edgerunner crouched to help him. The man had one more message. "This was a lesson. Quicksilver's response won't change. Learn from your mistakes." The man's eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed completely. He was still alive, still breathing, he just passed out.

Vondra was going to be furious, Edgerunner thought. "Come on. Let's go check upstairs," she told Glamour. He seemed to be a bit in shock from seeing a man mutilated like that.

"Another bites the dust. Another bites, another bites, another bites the dust." Wilbert's music played. Edgerunner rolled her eyes. Glamour's sense of theme was impeccable. Even when seeing a man almost die, he still planned his music around it. Edgerunner went up the stairs, leaving the unconscious man for when she left.

She opened the door on the next floor and retched. Even she wasn't used to sights like this. Mutilated, bloody bodies covered the floor. A sea of red filled the hallways and each room. Bodies had been hacked, sliced, and cut every possible way. Quicksilver was a menace. He was undeniably powerful as well. Thirty-three good people were cut down in the hallway alone, according to Edgerunner's count. No survivors, save the metal-handed messenger. Even Glamour was silent, though his music still played.

Edgerunner radioed the nearest guard to come and pick up the messenger man. He was too heavy for her or Glamour to lift. They would report to Vondra. He was not going to like this at all.

[Kobold King]

  

 

 

Reader was immensely unsympathetic.

 

As Backtrack glared, Reader gave an undeniably insincere expression of pity, speaking in an exaggeratedly coddling manner. "Oh, you're having a bad day?" he crooned sarcastically. "That's too bad. Unfortunately for you Steven, you came to the Dalles, and the Dalles is my territory. Everything you know belongs to me."

 

Backtrack opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the broad smile spreading across Reader's face.

 

 "And everything I own belongs to Koschei the Deathless." 

 

Somewhere deep inside of him, Backtrack felt his righteous indignation die in a flash. And it didn't die quietly--it died with a echoing internal scream that seemed to escape from his lips in a high-pitched whine.

 

All this thoughts and worries about The Dalles suddenly became real. Before they were shadowy and nebulous. Now it was all solid. Now he was completely, 100% justified in wanting to run out of town screaming.

 

Koschei the Deathless was in fact undefeated, and more to the point, he ruled this city. Frantically Backtrack wondered what would happen next. Would he be sent to meet Koschei? Was that why Reader was so cavalier about shooting prisoners--he knew his boss would just kill and heal 'em anyway? What would he do if Koschei decided Backtrack was useful enough to keep in the city? What would happen if Lightwards came to The Dalles to retrieve him? Calamity, who would kill him less painfully--Lightwards or Koschei?

 

The series of suddenly solidified doubts and concerns clouded his mind. He simply sat and stared at Reader, his mouth dry.

 

"Look at me," he managed to say hoarsely, giving Reader a pleading look. "I'm useless. I'm completely sparking useless. I'm the most sparking useless Epic in the Fractured States. Koschei doesn't need me. You don't want to be the one to send him someone useless, right? Just point me and the girls at the town line and we'll run away and never come back. Please. I... I can't handle getting shot or threatened or mutilated any more today. Just let us go."

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[mail-mi]

 

Steven is the best. 

 

His indignantly angry face instantly fell the moment he said "Koschei the Deathless." He moved his mouth, seemingly looking for words, but only a whimper came out instead. He smacked his lips together, then licked them. Sweat beaded on his brow. His hands were shaking. 

 

Reader soaked it all in. 

 

And smiled.

 

"Look at me," Steven finally said. "I'm useless. I'm completely sparking useless. I'm the most sparking useless Epic in the Fractured States. Koschei doesn't need me. You don't want to be the one to send him someone useless, right? Just point me and the girls at the town line and we'll run away and never come back. Please. I... I can't handle getting shot or threatened or mutilated any more today. Just let us go."

 

Why would I just let you go? Reader thought as he looked into Steven's eyes that were welling with tears. I'm having too much fun with you. 

 

"Don't kid yourself, Steven," he said gently, reaching across his desk and gingerly stopping his shaking hand. Steven looked terrified that he was touching him. "You could be of great use to us here in the Dalles. Why, you can get into other people's heads merely moments after they've passed through a place. You and I could be a great team,"--Reader knew that would horrify Steven to no end--"me knowing the victim's secrets and you knowing their thoughts." 

 

Reader nodded, pausing for a moment, letting Steven take it all in. "No, Steven, you're not useless.

 

"You're just as useful as I am." 

BusDriver had finally found something that might be worse than buses: sparking mist.

 

Tendrils of mist from the unknown source raced for him. They grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him up off the ground, much to his surprise "What in Calamit--" More tendrils came, but instead of grabbing him, they dived at the ground, then ripped out sections of the asphalt.

 

That flew straight for BusDriver. 

 

He was defenseless. If he made the asphalt into buses, they would just push him back even harder than the small pieces of road. And besides, the Calamity-cursed tendrils of mist wrapped around his sparking arms prevented him from moving at all anyway. 

 

He heard a voice. Suddenly, the asphalt stopped, just inches away from his head. "Uh," the voice said. "I just came to my powers." He looked around for the source, but couldn't see anything. "I didn't mean to, uh, attack you." The mist slowly let him and the asphalt back to the ground. From somewhere up above, a woman appeared, then dropped to the ground, landing on her feet. "I'm Mistwraith. Who are you?" 

 

BusDriver took a small step back, still wary of this Mistwraith. "I'm..." Should I lie? he thought, then decided against it. It's not like it'll make a difference if she wants to kill me if my name is BusDriver or sparking JeepWrangler. "...BusDriver." The mist seemed to be fading. "Some sparking greeting," he said grumpily. 

 

Suddenly, he realized he had no sparking idea what to say to her. "So..." he started. "...seems like you're new around here. What brings you to the Dalles, land of insane Epics and sparking buses?" 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[Seonid]

 

Gravel crunched as Ranger crossed the now-deserted parking lot. The vanillas had fled as Torch came down out of heaven for a second time, blazing like a meteor. Not all of them had made it.

Sparking useless vanillas, he thought. Why can't they learn to get out of the way? A family of three stood up from where they had taken shelter behind an old electrical box. He sneered at them contemptuously, opening his mouth to make a biting comment.

He checked himself. No, this isn't right, he thought. It's happening again. No! Vanillas are people, too. They matter. He repeated it like a mantra. Vanillas still matter. Vanillas still matter. He was afraid that, deep down, he didn't actually believe it, but by Calamity, he'd fake it until he made it. He wanted to care. He wanted to believe that they mattered just as much as he did. And that would have to be enough for now. He forced himself to smile. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The mother just backed away with a look of fear on her face. "Don't come any closer. We don't want any trouble." With a sigh, Ranger turned away and continued on. Towards the center of what had been the crowd. Ground zero for Torch's impact.

The ruins of the platform lay in a wide hole left by Torch's incineration. Ash swirled in the wind. The smoldering pile of rubble still radiated heat as he approached. He thought he had seen the tell-tale flash as Guardian and Paladin teleported out just before impact, but he had to make certain. And check that all of their targets were dead, too. Torch and Ringmaster lay tumbled together at the bottom in a macabre embrace. The flamboyant hypnotist's garish suit was charred beyond recognition, but the top hat was unmistakeable. Torch himself had no burns, but his neck twisted at an angle no human was ever meant to twist at. Not to mention a double dose of a deadly neurotoxin in his veins, which had apparently caused him to lost control of his fire as he died.

A little more searching through the ash found Bubble's corpse, blown clear of the platform. But, of course, he'd known that she was dead. People didn't live after he'd shot them. Not normally, at least.

He tapped his mobile. "Ranger here. All targets accounted for." His earbud crackled in response. "Roger that, Ranger. Let's get you out of there."

As he looked up from the ash-strewn parking lot, his eyes caught sight of something shining for a brief moment in a stand of small pines, about a quarter-mile off. It looked like a modern, gravitonic car. That was definitely out of place.

"Belay that, Guardian," he said. "I've got something I need to check out.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

The inside of the jail was dank. It smelled like it hadn't been cleaned out in months. Which, reflected Weeks, it probably hasn't. He kept a firm grip on the pistol in its holster as he crept towards the stairway to the lower level. Down to the cells, he thought. That's the most secure place in this town. His nightly stakeouts and reconnaissance had revealed that an Epic named Stonekey guarded the cells. No one in the town had seen him since the battle with Ironmonger, 18 months ago, and their memories of his powers were limited. With his access to the intelligence files of The Dalles, however, Arvin had been able to find much more information. Unfortunately, his weakness was not in the archives. Stonekey had fled The Dalles after Koschei's rise to power, because he was unwilling to join the putative god. He was a rather weak Epic, able to control stone as if it were water, but only in small quantities. Arvin hoped to get the drop on him, hamering him with .45 cal explosive rounds until he dropped, unable to use his powers to defend himself.

The shattered window behind him let in a cool evening breeze as he crept down the stairs. There was a body at the bottom of the stairs, against one of the walls. With a silent prayer of thanks, Arvin crept forward. Sure enough, it was Stonekey, lying in the doorway of the break room as if he'd fallen asleep at his guard post. Or maybe drunk. A bottle of wine lay next to him, leaking onto the floor.

Something felt wrong. He pulled out his flashlight, red-filtered to avoid ruining his night vision. The shape wasn't moving at all, not even the slow rise and fall of a drunk's breathing. The flashlight played across the Epic's head. That was it. The back of his skull was caved in, as if from a single heavy blow. Arvin heard the clink of chains behind him, from the hallway leading into the cell block. He threw himself to the side just in time as a massive spiked chain slammed into the ground where he had been. His flashlight spun out of his hand, rollin across the floor to end up against the wall, pointed squarely at the doorway to the cell block.

There, blocking the view behind him, was a monster of a man. 7 feet tall, and nearly 400 pounds, the Epic Hammer was an awesome sight. His right arm ended just below the elbow, capped with a metal brace from which protuded a heavy warhammer. His other hand grasped a the chain, pulling it back, laughing maniacally. His laugh filled the room like his bulk filled the doorway. His old training coming back to him like a second nature, Arvin pulled out his gun and fired 6 rounds in a quick spread, centered on the chest. This would be his best chance, maybe his only chance. Hammer shrugged off the bullet fire, stepping into the light. Body armor covered him from head to foot, almost certainly impervious to Arvin's small arms fire. Arvin groaned softly. He was dead this time, and he knew it. The giant Epic laughed again as he walked forward, raising the hammer.

At that moment, the ground shook violently. A bright flash of light, red-tinged like a fire, flooded through the window above, then vanished. Hammer dropped to the ground, twitching. Warily, Arvin sprinted past him. He didn't know why the Epic had become incapacitated, and he didn't know how long it would last. He had to work quickly. Last cell on the right. The heavy electronic door was locked with a simple padlock - most of the high-tech gadgetry no longer worked. Pulling a set of bolt cutters out of his backpack, he snipped the lock. The door swung slowly open.

This was it. The reason he'd come to this Calamity-forsaken town in the backwoods of Nowhere. He stepped into the cell.

He didn't know what to expect. He'd prepared for a briefcase marked 'Classified,' or maybe a sample of some exotic material. Even a specialized weapon that could be used to drive Ironmonger away, a substitute for the weakness. What he did not expect was a girl of about 9 or 10, chained to the wall. The manacles clung together, and several of the links of the chain were stuck to them as well. Magnetic? But why?

The girl's eyes went wide as she saw him. "Who are you?" Her voice was a soft whisper, barely audible even in the still air of the cell.

"I'm here to rescue you. Don't be afraid." Arvin set to work with his bolt cutters on the chains and manacles. Slontzes! What the sparks are they thinking, keeping a little girl chained up like this. I don't care how much of a tactical advantage she might have been... He kept ranting, punctuating each, more violent mental condemnation with a snip of the bolt-cutters. The circumstance was eerily similar to...he couldn't think it. I will not be a coward again. Even now, two years later, he still suffered from the guilt of that monstrous day. He doubted it would ever leave him. But I can vow never to be party to that again. By my life and by whatever sanctity my tarnished honor has left. I will not. That was a dangerous line of thinking. Too long, and those explosive bullets in his clip would look far too attractive as a way of making amends. Things were too delicate for that now. He had a duty, and he would do it.

To her credit, the girl didn't seem afraid. "Good for you. You're being a brave little girl." He hoped that it would sound soothing. "Of course I am," she shot back. "I'm ten. And that means I'm a big girl now." She said it matter-of-factly. "Big girls are always brave." The links were cut. She was free. He had to get them both out now. There would be time later to figure out who she was and why she was in there. In a fraction of a second, his priorities had shifted dramatically. That had always happened when children were involved, except for...his mind shied away from the dreadful memory. He would do penance his whole life and never erase it, but at least he could feel as if he were working towards it.

He grabbed her hand and began to hurry back down the long hallway of the cell block, throwing open the door. He didn't know how much time they had, but...

The Epic climbing to his feet told him that that time had just run out. He pushed the girl behind him as he drew his gun again. 7 shots left in the clip. Another clip on his belt, but there wouldn't be any time to reload. The Epic's booming voice filled the room and the narrow hallway behind. "Trying to sneak past me? There's no way out of this place from in there!" Arvin fired again, emptying the rest of his clip into the faceplate of the body armor. The armored vision-glass spiderwebbed with cracks, but did not break open. Hopelessly, he snatched the spare clip from his belt, frantically trying to reload before the Epic recovered.

The broken glass bought him some time while Hammer removed the helmet. Apparently he couldn't see anymore. That was a stroke of luck, or providence. He finished reloading just as the Epic picked up the chain again. As he raised the gun to fire at the now exposed head, the chain snaked out, catching him in the left arm and slamming him against the wall of the hallway. The gun went off, the recoil sending it spinning away from his suddenly loosened grip. He blinked, trying to clear away the black spots from his vision. Had he killed the Epic? No, the footsteps were moving closer. It had been a long shot anyways.

Groaning, Arvin began to feel towards his gun again. The chain slammed down again, inches from his questing fingers. The girl behind him cried out in fear. "Not so fast, vanilla. You don't get a second chance down here." Hammer's booming voice echoed in the small cell. Hammer stepped forward again, now just feet away, raising his right arm with its attached weapon. A loud whinny, as clear as silver, sounded from the doorway. Hammer flinched, spinning around to face a new threat.

There, silhouetted against the light from the open doorway, was a brilliant white horse. It almost seemed to glow with an inner light. With shock, Arvin noticed the single horn sprouting from the forehead, rising in a pearly spiral to a silvery tip. Is that...a unicorn? The majestic beast slowly stepped forward, growing brighter with each step. Hammer looked amused. "This?! An overgrown horse with an absurd hood ornament? This is no rescue!" His booming laughter filled the room as he flicked his chain towards the beast, wicked spikes glinting in the rays of sunlight.

And then the horn was there, somehow interposed. With a brilliant burst of light, the chain burst asunder, flying links disintegrating. Hammer backed away, angling towards the door to the back room. The unicorn charged. Hammer broke and ran towards the doorway.

Covering Ari's eyes, Arvin bolted towards the stairs, heading for his car, for daylight. His life had just gotten more dangerous. Hopefully, it had just become that much more meaningful, too.
 

Edited October 25, 2014 by Seonid

[the winter system]

"Accident mostly." Cassie confided. She tried to make the rest of the mist fade, and suddenly the air was strangely thick. She felt the pain sort of return,  but it was better. "I was going somewhere, but I ended up nowhere." She shrugged. "And nowhere ended up somewhere." Cassie grinned, then remembered she was going to call herself Mistwraith. Right, Mistwraith grinned. "So what's going on here?"

Edited October 25, 2014 by pir2h

[Kobold King]

  

 

 

Reader was a rotten, despicable person who'd made remarkable contributions to the lousiness of Backtrack's day.

 

Backtrack assumed that after shooting him in the arm and smugly informing him that an unstoppable dictator ruled the city, Reader would find it difficult to find fresh and exciting avenues of slontziness.

 

That assumption, as it turned out, was very wrong.

 

Backtrack felt himself flinching as Reader gingerly touched his hand, steadying the bad case of the shakes he was having. The gesture was not at all comforting.

 

"Don't kid yourself, Steven," Reader said softly. "You could be of great use to us here in the Dalles. Why, you can get into other people's heads merely moments after they've passed through a place. You and I could be a great team; me knowing the victim's secrets and you knowing their thoughts." 

 

Backtrack simply stared at him, eyes wide with horror. So he would be made to stay here. Stuck in The Dalles, working for Koschei the Deathless and partnered with the slontziest Epic he'd met in years.

 

Was slontziest a word? He couldn't quite bring himself to care at the moment, because storming Koschei the Deathless was drafting him. He shook more terribly than before, but managed to yank his hand away from Reader's.

 

Reader continued, nodding thoughtfully. "No, Steven, you're not useless. You're just as useful as I am."

 

Somehow that comment just made it all worse. Some little part of him cracked at that comment, bringing another total body cringe. Backtrack did the only thing he could do--he glared at Reader.

 

Externally. Inside, he was feeling like a piece of slag. Was this what all minor Epics were like--so smug in their mediocre talents, completely apathetic to those in their mercy?

 

Sparks. Was that what he himself was like? Surely not. He hadn't approached anything near Reader's level of slontziness.

 

Well, he had treated the twins kind of creepily. Like, "smiling widely and touching them at every opportunity" kind of creepy. But surely that wasn't Reader-level slontziness.

 

Of course... there was that set of directions he wrote for Lightwards. What would Lightwards do once he reached the Trattner bakery, he wondered? Surely he wasn't planning on killing anyone there...? He hadn't put much thought into it at the time, but he found himself suddenly hoping the self-proclaimed Emperor hadn't left the bakery with any new zombies.

 

And that's when it hit him. Staring into Reader's quietly gleeful expression, he came to a realization.

 

Steven Lawrence was a slontze. Yes, he was very definitely a slontze on Reader's level. And they were going to make a wonderful team.

 

He felt his eyes start to burn again, so he took off the sunglasses and held them in his lap, quietly brooding. Reader's smug expression was beginning to annoy him, so he decided he didn't have to look at it. Instead, he flipped through history.

 

Trying not to think of his latest realization, he instead flipped through this location's history. Reader and his office disappeared, obscured by the shadows of the past. Nothing from Koschei's era of history, of course. In fact, Backtrack determinedly peered far enough backwards to the time when Koschei's ancestors were just squirrelly little mammals, hiding in the trees out of sheer terror of the dinosaurs below.

 

He sat in his chair for a few minutes more, examining the primordial forest. The Cretaceous had always looked like such a serene place to him. He'd looked at it before--there were few eras of Earth's history he hadn't taken a look at.

 

Seventy million years before Reader was born, there was a very nice forest here. A river flowed nearby, out of sight but pouring its soft gurgling voice into the forest's silence. Birds--or things very like birds--chirped from the tops of trees, and every so often a squirrelly little Reader-ancestor would crawl up a tree to its nest in the higher branches.

 

It was immensely relaxing to ignore the current situation like this, so much so that Backtrack wondered why he hadn't already tried to soothe his day with it so far. It wouldn't help in the long term, but it helped him put his thoughts in order. And more importantly, it boosted his self-confidence.

 

The forest and all its tranquility was only one benefit of his power. The other benefit was the way that power changed him. He always felt renewed and invigorated after using it; his self-confidence soared with every peak into the past. Best of all, his worries and self-doubts evaporated off of him, leaving him with a clear conscience and an un-troubled mind. After all, he hadn't really done any harm. He wasn't a slontze. That goth girl didn't really need the rest of her family anyway, right? And MV still sort of liked him, so he hadn't totally wrecked his chances of winning her over. He wasn't a slontze.

 

He wasn't a slontze. With that thought and the friendly little voice that spoke in his head sometimes, Backtrack dispelled his vision of the Cretaceous forest and fixed Reader with a much more steady glower.

 

Sort of steady. He was still shaking, and his power did nothing to soothe the mortal terror he was still feeling. His heart was still pounding rapidly as well, which Reader was no doubt aware of.

 

"Listen," he said shakily, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Whatever you think I can do for you, you're wrong. I'm no use to you. I can tell you quite earnestly that I've never been useful to anyone in my entire life. You know that isn't a lie."

 

He swallowed heavily. "I'm just here to find out if Remington Springfield still has family in this town, and then I'm heading back to Portland. Trying to keep me here is just a waste of time for the both of us."

 

With that, he managed to put his sunglasses back on and stare intently at the other Epic. He was beginning to doubt there was anything he could say to sway this man--more and more, it seemed he wouldn't be leaving The Dalles without a meeting with its master.

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[Voidus]

Impact watched Autumn Glass take a deep steadying breath at MVs latest tirade and found herself sympathising more with her than she did with her sister.

Honestly, sometimes it's like she wants to be shot, or turned into a pile of ashes or whatever horrible death that Slontze at the museum could come up with.

Taking a deep breath of her own to keep herself from smashing her sister through a nearby wall Impact watched the dynamic between Autumn and this newest arrival, an Epic evidently, although obviously he couldn't be any more powerful than that Slontze with the wine had been if he was working for vanillas. She graced him with a condescending sneer before addressing Autumn again, at least she had some measure of courage, standing up to Epics for a career when she had no powers of her own.

"We've no plans to harm anyone here"
MV shot her a glare that seemed to say speak for yourself. Impact ignored her, now that she'd had her little tantrum Megan wouldn't try to hurt anyone unless they acted first.

"wait until the creep is done with Backtrack, he can show you, he can show people what's happened in the past."

She had no idea whether Backtrack could support their story but at least it bought her some thinking time.

"As a sign of good faith we can provide you with some information about Portland, there's a massive turf war going on there at the moment. After that, well we'll see what happens."

[mail-mi]

The mist seemed to fade, though the air seemed thicker without the mist than with it. What the sparks is going on with this woman? BusDriver thought, examining the Epic. 

 

"Accident, mostly," Mistwraith said. "I was going somewhere, but ended up nowhere. And nowhere ended up somewhere." She shrugged, then smiled. "So what's going on here?" 

 

"Um," BusDriver said, searching his memory banks that were ever-decreasing with age. "2 factions, Vondra owns most of the town now, but we're fighting back." He had to make Quicksilver sound like the good guy. He wouldn't be happy if they lost another Epic to Vondra, and if Quicksilver wasn't happy, no one was happy. He still remembered the day that Hydron had joined up with Vondra. BusDriver shuddered at the memory. 

 

"We, Quicksilver, me, and the team, are the good guys," BusDriver said, deciding to be blunt instead of subtle. He was no good at subtle, anyway. "We're trying to take back from Vondra what is rightfully ours. Wanna join up?" It was one of the worst let's-make-Quicksilver-sound-good speeches that had ever been given, but BusDriver hoped it would work. 

 

 

Miner pulled himself out of the chasm he'd made with his one good arm, using his arm encased in stone for traction. The chasm wall had protected him from the blast that Miner assumed had been made by Torch, though the ends of his hair had been singed. 

 

As he stood and straightened himself, he turned around and looked at where the platform had been. Now, it was just a crater filled with corpses. Torch, Ringmaster, and Bubble lay there, their eyes lifeless. Miner felt a stab of anger at the three Epics that'd come in and messed the place up. They'd killed his entire alliance. No one was left but him, and possibly Ghostknife, but without Ringmaster, she couldn't be trusted. 

 

They would be ended. He'd heard that one of their names was Paladin. He was the one in the unscratchable armor, with that sword of his. Well, his armor wouldn't save him next time Miner got to him, oh no. \

 

Of course, Miner couldn't do it alone. He started to make his way north--or, at least, he thought it was north. He'd gotten wind of an Epic, one Ironmonger, who was trying to start an empire of his own. Well, Miner would help him build that empire. He grinned madly as he walked past a group of vanillas fleeing from the parking lot, then opened up a chasm underneath them and watched them tumble into the depths of the Earth. 

 

Oh yes, he'd help Ironmonger build his empire. He had only one requirement. 

 

I get to kill Paladin. 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[the winter system]

    "Wanna join up?" He asked. Subtly out the window, Mistwraith didn't care. Subtly never worked on her, anyway.  Mistwraith paused to make him think she was considering. It was really no challenge. Of course she would join him. 

    "Is there anyone there that can help me with my new Epic powers?" Mistwraith asks, curious. "I guess, yes." She sighed. The air around her chilled, mist curled like fingers around her. Mistwraith pulled back on it, and the momentum threw her backwards. The mist cushioned her crash, but the building crumbled from the force. "Any major faction ought to have really powerful Epics to keep up with the others." Mistwraith blinked. "Are you an Epic?" Mistwraith stood up from the ruins of the building. Strange, she didn't feel regret that there might've been some people in there. Mistwraith shrugged. How long had it been since she had gotten here? Mistwraith stretched. 

[mail-mi]

 

Reader had expected Steven to whimper. He’d expected the horrified look on his face. He’d expected the several quivers that ran up Steven’s spine.

 

He’d expected all of those things.

 

He hadn’t expected this.

 

Steven just sat there with his ridiculous sunglasses in his lap, staring off into space. Reader knew he was using his powers to look off into some era of the past, but it was sparking infuriating sitting there and waiting for him to return. Reader could only hope he was seeing something horrifying, something to do with Koschei the Deathless, something....

 

Koschei. Suddenly, Reader didn’t want Backtrack looking into the past of this room at all. He was about to pull out his pistol again and shoot the man in the other arm when Steven’s eyes focused again and he turned shakily to Reader.

 

“Listen," he said, a faltering smile on his face. "Whatever you think I can do for you, you're wrong. I'm no use to you. I can tell you quite earnestly that I've never been useful to anyone in my entire life. You know that isn't a lie."

 

Reader heard an audible “gulp” before Steven moved on. "I'm just here to find out if Remington Springfield still has family...”

 

Remington Springfield. Remington sparking Springfield. Reader stopped listening. I can’t have heard that right, he thought. But, he had. And his Reading of Steven confirmed it.

 

Steven knew Remington Springfield. Which meant that Remington Springfield was still alive.

 

This time, it was Reader’s mouth that went dry.

 

* * *

The Dalles, two years previously

 

“Sparking man,” Reader grumbled on his way back to the church garage. The man he was speaking of was none other than Remington Springfield, son of Patrick and Nancy Springfield and brother of Daisy, who were cowering in the garage along with the rest of the prisoners. Vanilla guards and a few Epics surrounded the open garage doors, with orders to shoot anyone who tried to escape.

 

Reader reached the garage and stood erect in front of it, watching the prisoners mill around inside. He could easily spot the Springfields in the crowd. They were the ones glaring at the guards--even the Epic guards--instead of looking down like all the other good vanillas. Reader had half a mind to shoot the three of them, just to show all the Springfields who was really in charge. Why, Reader--

 

A single gunshot.

 

Then several more.

 

The garage erupted into chaos. Bullets were flying everywhere as vanilla guards shot at what they thought was the source, and more than a few dropped from bullets that came from their friends. The prisoners--especially the Springfields--looked up with excitement, thinking that perhaps they would be able to get free. Reader was about to do something about that, when a stray bullet took him in the left arm.

 

Pain exploded from his arm. Reader yelped and grabbed his arm where the bullet had hit. Not for the first time, he cursed Calamity for not giving him any defensive powers. He put as much pressure as he could on the wound with his other arm--he could still feel the bullet in there, pressed up against the bone.

 

Unfortunately, Calamity hadn’t given him any good offensive powers either, so he dashed away as quickly as he could from the shooting and toward the church. Koschei will be able to heal me, he thought as he ran. He’ll heal me and remove this sparking bullet and kill that Calamity-cursed Remington!

 

Reader stopped when he saw the red-and-blue flashing lights around the church. If those officers knew he was working for Koschei.... As quick as he’d come Reader spun around headed for the church pavilion. It was a bit too close to the garage for comfort, but it was either maybe being shot by a stray bullet or definitely being shot by an officer. He arrived and sat down on one of the metal benches, then--still holding his arm--got his radio out with his wounded arm. Wincing at the pain, Reader pressed the “talk” button. “Koschei, can you read me?” He set the radio down and commenced making a makeshift bandage out of his tie.

 

Koschei’s voice came through the radio. “Tell me you ordered those soldiers to fire.”

 

Reader winced again--but not at the bullet wound this time. “I wish I could. It was that sparking man Remington!”

 

A pause followed. “Remington Springfield?”

 

Reader nodded, though he knew Koschei couldn’t see him. “Yes. Him.”

 

When Koschei spoke, his voice was low and cold. “Is he with you? Do you have him injured, in custody, with you?”

 

Reader swallowed. “I...no. I left him with the soldiers, who were commanded to take him in.”

 

"Did you know they were planning this?"

 

“No, I never really looked at them. I was a bit busy Reading Remington and that sparking wife of his, Laurie.”

 

"Is she at least with you?"

 

The pain in his arm was starting to dull, but Reader knew that any help from Koschei was going to be a long time coming, considering the mood Koschei was in. “No. As I said before, I left them with the soldiers.”

 

Koschei paused again. "I'll be there soon."

 

Another voice cut into the conversation. "Don't worry, capable people will be there in a moment," Frequency's snide voice said. "Let us go, my lord.” Frequency raised his voice, probably shouting to the soldiers outside the church. “Your lord, The Deathless One, is leaving now. Remove yourselves from his path or be removed.” Whistling was the next sound through the radio and as bullets fired, Reader heard the snap that was them shattering from the whistles. Next came a mild boom as, he assumed, Frequency clapped to clear a path through police and soldiers. "We're through!" Frequency shouted. "I knocked over a whole bunch of the guards and shattered the others' guns, Reader. Sorry you can't do that." The radio clicked off.  

 

Reader gritted his teeth and set his radio down. He'd be sure to get Frequency back, somehow, when he saw him again and could Read him. He leaned back and put more pressure on his bullet wound, listening to the continued gunshots and occasional booms that came from the church.

 

Despite the pressure--or maybe because of it--the wound continued to pulse with pain. Springfield! Reader cursed. It was his fault that Reader had been shot.

 

I will end you, Springfield. I will make sure that, whether by my hand or Koschei's, you will die. Another pulse of pain came from the wound. You will die.

 

Remington Springfield will die.

 

*     *     *

 

Reader, with some effort, shook himself back into the present. Steven looked at him with expectant eyes, probably awaiting his next snide comment. Reader, however, couldn't bring himself to say anything. Springfield is alive.

 

Reader looked up at the one remaining soldier in the room. "Go get Autumn," he said, forcing his voice not to shake. "Tell her to come in here. I have...the third Epic is ready." The soldier nodded and stepped out of the office.

 

Reader leaned back, releasing a shaky breath. He didn't care that Steven saw him being weak. He didn't care about anything; his mind was still on the past. A past wrought with pain, deception, and betrayal. And, weaving through it all, was one man.

 

And that man was still alive.

 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

 

Sincerity, from an Epic, was like a unicorn. Beautiful. Magnificent, even. Good luck, more likely than not. But, more than anything, an Epic's sincerity was rare, rumored to be a myth. Remington Springfield was one of the few lucky enough to have seen it. 

 

And now, unless the more serious twin was a pathological liar, Autumn had seen it too. 

 

An Epic who could see the past. A pair of twins from Portland, with knowledge of the turf wars. Autumn's head spun with images of the City Guard solving crimes deemed unsolvable, of Vondra preparing the Guard for whatever threats might wander over from Portland. No more humans framed for crimes that couldn't be pinned to any Epic in particular. No more wondering about which Epics might try to take The Dalles next. Lives would be saved, reputations cleared, battles won before they had to be fought at all—

 

Reader's door opened and closed. "Glass, Reader's ready for you. Wants you to take Backtrack to our—" The soldier, a young woman named Jordan McKenzie, pressed her lips together and cut her eyes toward the door. "Healer." 

 

Autumn stifled a sigh. So Reader had been bragging again. He did that from time to time, whenever he thought mentioning Koschei's name might drive someone to frustration—and when he decided to go down that path, he insisted upon taking everyone in The Dalles with him. Referring to Dr. Game as anything but the town's healer would earn the guilty party a list of their secrets, plus analysis provided to whoever happened to be within earshot. 

 

Autumn was not in the mood. Reader had already dissected every event in her relatively short life and paraded each one of her character flaws before whoever wanted to see. She didn't need another round of that. Autumn nodded to the soldiers. "Let them go. If they're telling the truth about that glass, they'll be fine with just an armed escort." 

 

She opened the door, giving the past-seeing Epic a smile and a wave. How he saw anything through those pink sunglasses of his was anyone's guess, but she had seen worse costumes. "Hi there. Autumn Glass, not an Epic." Her gaze rested on the bullet wound marring his arm, which seemed to have been temporarily bandaged by some sort of contained wind. Instincts told her to touch it gently, let him feel cared for, but it was safer to wait until she knew whether or not he had a secondary. She winced. "That looks like it hurts. Why don't you come with me and the twins, and I'll take you to our…healer." 

 

The pink-sunglassed Epic cringed visibly at the word, so Autumn decided to send him some veiled encouragement. Better if he knew not everyone in The Dalles was a fan of the late Deathless One. "He's the best healer we've ever had," she said, raising her hands to form air quotes around the word healer. She shot Reader a glare, saw he was shaking, and frowned. Had the past-seeing Epic taken Reader back to the moment of Koschei's death? Was that why he looked nearly as shaken as Reader? 

 

Whatever the case, Reader's momentary fear bought her enough time to leave his office unaccompanied by insults. She tilted her head toward the door, which was held by one of the soldiers. "Come on, let's go. And I don't think I caught any of your names?" 

Edited October 31, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Seonid]

 

The world twisted and turned around Paladin, vision turning white as light enveloped him. With a thump of exploding air, the light vanished again, revealing the familiar walls of their apartment and the broken plate-glass window in the hall. Paladin shivered, remembering Torch falling from the sky, fire flaring higher and higher, while he stood frozen, unable to respond. It was the first time that his precognition had shown him his own inevitable death. Only the platform's inexplicable lurch had saved them, breaking Ringmaster's hold on their minds and allowing Guardian to teleport them to safety.

Ranger's voice came through his headset, wirelessly connected to the mobile over his heart. "We have a confirmed impact. I'll go over and check to make sure, but it looks like all of the primary targets have been eliminated."

That was a lucky break. Providential, even. On further reflection, it was likely a sign. The bright power that had guided his steps had not failed him in his hour of need, but had provided the means to escape at the last moment. He felt a surge of confidence. With such a power behind him, they couldn't fail! They would make the world safe again, safe from Epics, safe from the cult, safe from the power of the Dark Gods. And he would be the leader to usher in this era of peace. Almost, he began to drift off into a blissful daydream.

But now was not the time. There was work to be done. His chief concern right now had to be himself. The good of the world could wait for an hour or two.

He took off his overshirt, examining his injured arm. The flesh was gray, and it seemed unresponsive. He poked it with his finger, trying to judge his sense of touch. He cursed. There was no response.

The outburst seemed to jolt Guardian out of her shock. She immediately came over to him. "Let me see that." She began poking and prodding, but it could have been a lump of beef at a butcher's shop for all he could feel it.

"The girl's knife was different," Guardian was saying. "It passed straight through solid material, even flesh. Nothing was damaged except for nerves. She got me in the leg. Without my regeneration, I'd still be unable to walk."

"I see. Can it be fixed?"

Her look was answer enough.

"Well then, it will have to go."

"What?!" Guardian's voice raised ever so slightly.

"You heard me. It will have to go. If it can't be healed, it's a liability. Dead wood. Not pulling its own weight, dragging me backwards." He walked over to the counter, using his left hand to pick up his useless arm and place it on the smooth marble.

"Now. Cut it off." Guardian's eyes went wide.

"No, I couldn't...I mean I can't...I mean..."

"I don't have time for your excuses, woman. Pick up your sword and cut it off. I refuse to be saddled with a weakness." His voice was cold as ice.

Reluctantly, she raised her sword above her head, bringing it down again in one swift motion. He could have sworn that she averted her eyes as it bit into flesh. Calamity! He had to hold back from cursing like a sailor.  Guardian stumbled backward, face white, covering her eyes. The pain was excruciating, but that was expected. And the lump of useless flesh no longer hung from his elbow. He grunted, but managed to keep from screaming.

"Well, woman?" His voice held a small hint of a sneer. "Are you going to just let me bleed to death?"

As she scrambled to begin putting together a tourniquet, Paladin began to smile to himself. The loss of the right arm was a blow, to be sure, but it forced him to become proficient with his left. Few people were prepared for a left-handed swordsman in this day and age. With luck, and the attention of providence that he surely had, he could turn the loss of his arm into a devastating advantage on the battlefield.

Even a setback like this served eventually to work towards his ultimate goal.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *  

 

Arvin slowed his pace as the jail disappeared behind the burned-out hulks of a residential district. The little girl showed no signs of tiring, and it would do no good to run right into danger while trying to escape it. The streets were deserted. The Dalles had looked a lot like this, everyone gone in hiding, or dead. After...his thoughts trailed off. He couldn't face it. Not again. But his thoughts seemed determined to betray him to a surge of guilt and shame. Images rose in his mind, faster than he could suppress them. The elementary school where he had once taught. The classroom. Colors. The deep purple  of a regal cloak. The bright red of fresh blood. That unforgettable metallic tang in the air. Screams. Always the screams.

It was the girl who snapped him out of it. "Are we stopping here? I don't see anywhere to hide?" He hadn't realized he had stopped walking.

It took visible effort for him to pay attention, but he managed. Slowly, his mind became his own again. "No, we aren't stopping here for long. I just need to catch my breath a little."

Her young face grew thoughtful. "You old folks need to catch your breath a lot. My daddy always used to do that when he went on a walk with me."

Arvin found himself smiling at the little girl's chatter. "Does your daddy live around here?"

Her face fell. "Not anymore. He died-ed when the bad metal man came here. My mommy was very sad then. She was sick and then the metal man took her away." She looked like she was about to start crying. Sparks, this is awkward. He hadn't really interacted with children for almost two years.

He had a vague idea that he should comfort her, but no idea how to go about it. The silence hung in the air like a stifling blanket. He had to say something.

"So...what's your name?" The girl smiled, as if she was grateful for the change of subject. "My name's Ari, because it's short for Ariana but I always wanted to be called Elsa because when I saw Frozen, I just loved Elsa and I wanted to be just like her. Did you see Frozen?" The words tumbled out in a rush. And just like that, the ice was broken. Arvin could feel the tension snap. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I did, actually. It was my daughter's favorite movie." That brought another wave of memories that he had no strength to deal with right now. He found himself blinking back tears just at the thought. He was grateful again when Ari started chattering again.

"Oh! Well I just love the movie because of the snow and the magic and the castle. And Elsa. She's my favorite princess..." She continued to talk as they started moving again. After her third time going over her favorite part of the movie, the part when Elsa got a new dress, she finally started to wind down. Arvin seized the chance to speak.

"Well, Ari, how do you feel about going to a place where we can watch Frozen together? It's a place that will be safe from the bad metal man, too." It was the truth, from a certain point of view. They would be safe as long as she was there. Assuming his beliefs were correct.

"Ooh! That would be fun! And we could make popcorn, and have candy, and...oh!...do you have apple trees, mister? I love apples. And then we could pick apples and look at the flowers!" Her voice trailed off a little, and she looked at him shyly. "Mister?"

"Yes, Ari?"

"Well, um...never mind." It was a familiar situation with children, and he found himself smiling. "It's OK. You don't have to be embarrassed. What's up?"

"I was just wondering..." She was obviously uncomfortable now. Then she got a look of determination on her face. "Mister, could you be my new daddy?"

The question stopped him dead in his tracks. Can I do this? Can I really make myself vulnerable like that again? But almost immediately the thought came back. But I can't just leave her alone. Not now. Vondra will use her, and use her up if he needs to to save the place from Ironmonger. I need to be there to protect her. And I might as well start today. For all of the shock that the question brought, there was only one answer he could give. "Yes, Ari, I can be your new daddy, if you want. We can be our own little family."

She laughed out loud at that, and then ran away, yelling "Look at me, mister!'" She skipped ahead happily to go and pick a dandelion puffball, and strangely, Arvin felt his heart lighten in a way that it hadn't for more years than he'd like to remember. He had a purpose again.

[Tulir]

Steven listened as Glass took over the situation and defused it.  While she and the Epics were talking, he took the time to study them.

 

"As a sign of good faith we can provide you with some information about Portland, there's a massive turf war going on there at the moment. After that, well we'll see what happens." One of them said, and Steven stiffened.  A turf war?!  Sparks, those never turn out well.  

 

As a soldier came in to speak with Glass about the third man, Steven ignored them and focused on the girls.  "A turf war?" he asked.  "I need the names of the Epics involved, anything you know about their powers, and other information relevant to the situation."

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

Thank you, mail-mi, for providing Reader's dialog!

Two years ago

For one shining moment, Koschei strode through the soldiers unimpeded.

Frequency’s claps were far more effective than even Koschei could have dreamed. At the sound, every soldier within the thirty-foot blast radius fell to the snow. It was a beautiful sight, really, watching them crumple as their comrades covered their ears and dropped their weapons. Koschei felt the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. This was how it ought to be, he thought as he stepped over one fallen soldier, then another. This was how it could be, would be, when The Dalles was his.

Another barrage of gunfire, cut short by another one of Frequency’s whistles, tried and failed to block his passage.

Koschei stepped over another body, turned, and spoke without raising his voice. There was no need. “The church, such as it is, belongs to me, as do the children in it. Attempt to take them, and they will die in your arms.”

A quick wave of his hand, followed by the reopening of George’s throat, prompted shouts and cries from the nearby soldiers. The one holding him tried futily to stop the blood pouring from the wound. Koschei smiled. “Frequency, ensure my wishes are respected, and call if they are not.”

By the time they resumed firing, Koschei had already reached the garage. His mouth tightened when he saw Reader, sitting on a metal bench and holding his arm. Blood soaked his fingers. “Tell me who shot you.”

"No idea," Reader said, wincing as Koschei lifted his arm to examine the wound. "Just a stray bullet."

With great effort, Koschei kept from rolling his eyes. Reader could know a mortal's childhood crush at a glance, but a shooter's identity eluded him. A shooter who would have been unable to fire had he and his fellow soldiers simply been Read before they betrayed him in favor of Remington Springfield and that wife of his. Koschei was tempted to leave the wound as it was, but an alliance was an alliance. "Did you at least remove the bullet?"

"No," Reader scoffed. "I figured that you, the immortal Deathless One and God of Healing, could remove it painlessly."

Frequency was whistling again, bullets ceasing to be with loud pops. Koschei's radio crackled with three separate suggestions for which child deserved to die. Somewhere, close but not close enough, Remington Springfield was making his escape, and Reader fumed over a bullet placed in his arm by his own stupidity. Koschei wanted to twist Reader's bicep until he screamed, but there simply wasn't time. "You do realize what you did, don't you?" He placed his hand over the wound. "What you gave the people in this city when Springfield escaped?"

Reader looked at Koschei, his eyes widening. "No, no, that won't happen. What you just did, just barely, at the church, that will crush their hopes. Besides, we'll kill him personally when we see him again. We'll make sure that happens."

"If we don't, we'll have a savior on our hands." Savior. The word tasted vile, like treachery. Reader's blood was warm against Koschei's palm, oozing through his fingers, where it ought to have stopped flowing. Frowning, Koschei lifted his hand. The wound was still wide, still bleeding.

No.

Koschei covered the wound again, willing the edges together, but the flow of blood continued. When he lifted his hand, the wound was still there, still an ugly gash on his skin. A gash that would not heal. "What did you do, Reader?" He searched his comrade's eyes for any hint of deception, of malice. "Why won't you let me heal this?"

"I'm not doing anything! Why aren't you healing me?”

There was genuine panic in his eyes, but the note of accusation in his tone made Koschei withdraw his hand. Reader’s wound wouldn’t heal, and Springfield was getting further away by the second. He wiped Reader's blood on his shirt. "You did something. I don’t know what you did, but you did something.” His teeth clenched, and he stood. "Remove the bullet before I try again."

He left Reader clutching his wound, tripping over half-formed words as he struggled to voice his rage.

Edited November 2, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Voidus]

"I need the names of the Epics involved, anything you know about their powers, and other information relevant to the situation."

Megan rolled her eyes to try to distract herself from her desire to pop the man's out of his skull.

"And you're going to keep on needing them until you all stop threatening us." She said, gracing the man with a disdainful sneer and earning one of her own from Impact.

This was all her idea anyway, why's she getting all high and mighty?

MV softened slightly as she regarded her sister, Impact was her rock, her way of determining when her emotions got too out of hand. She smiled apologetically such as she was able and received one in return. Thankfully Autumn Glass seemed to have deemed that they at least weren't deserving of immediate execution, and it seemed that Backtrack would receive similar treatment. Megan was startled to realize that she actually missed the Seeing Epic and his weird sunglasses. It had only been a short time but she'd found herself worried about leaving him with 'the Slontze'.

It's just because he helped us get away from the creepy museum, I'm just trying to repay the favor. She gave a small internal laugh. It's not like I actually like him or anything.

[mail-mi]

Bluntness seemed to work, surprisingly.

 

"Is there anyone that can help me with my new Epic powers?" Mistwraith asked, but before BusDriver could respond, she answered herself. "I guess so, yes." 

 

Suddenly, she flew backwards into the mist, disappearing from sight. BusDriver heard a crash as she landed on something. A single brick landed in front of BusDriver.

 

Then the entire sparking building started to topple down.

 

BusDriver yelped and made for the exit of the alleyway, managing to not get crushed by stray rubble.  The mist that had spilled out of the crevice was thick enough that the sun didn't touch his skin even when he was out. 

 

He could see the form of Mistwraith stand up inside of the alley. Sparks! he thought. That woman is strong!

 

She just kept talking like nothing had happened. "Any major faction ought to have really powerful Epics to keep up with the others. Are you an Epic?" She walked forward until he could see more than just her shape in the mist. 

 

"What was that for?!" BusDriver yelled. "You almost crushed me! You knocked down the entire Calamity-cursed building! What the sparks?" He sighed. "I can make anything into a bus. Here, come with me and I'll show you. Then we can get back to Quicksilver." He headed out to the sunlight, checking over his shoulder to see if she was following. 

 

When they got to an empty part of the road, BusDriver picked up a pebble. "Stand back," he said. "I wouldn't want to be near this thing when it transforms." He set the pebble on the ground, then got away as quickly as he could. The pebble grew and stretched and turned into a shiny party bus, complete with stripper pole and laser lights. 

 

BusDriver sighed. "Unfortunately, I can't choose which type of bus it becomes." BusDriver pulled open the door and stepped inside. "Come on in. The party's waiting."

 

 

 

Miner continued his trek north to Ironmonger. He figured he was almost there, the state border was in about one more mile, and Ironmonger was said to have set up shop in Goldendale, Washington. 

 

Suddenly, Miner sensed a deposit of rubies underneath him. Really, really deep down. And it was tiny--no more than 5 good sized rubies and a few more smaller ones. Not like it mattered to Miner, not anymore. When he'd first got his powers, rubies and sapphires and diamonds had seemed of incredible worth to him. But, with the onslaught of Epics throughout the Fractured States, not even precious jewels seemed to have that much value. Besides, why use money when you can just make anyone holding you back drop into a chasm that leads to the center of the earth? 

 

A vanilla man ran past him with his head down. Miner caught his shoulder, forcibly turning him towards him. "Hey," he said in a harsh whisper. "I know where we can find some rubies. Want to get some?" 

 

The man tried to pull away, but when Miner wouldn't let him, nodded almost imperceptibly. 

 

"Good. I'll show you where they are." Miner stepped away, then opened a chasm directly underneath the man. His screams echoed up the cavern as he fell directly into the ruby deposit, his body crunching as it hit the bottom. 

 

Miner laughed gleefully and looked down over the hole. "They're down there." 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[the winter system]

Mistwraith climbed into the bus. It was almost laughable, and sad. Mistwraith thought about BusDriver. He was strange, but almost all Epics would have to be strange. Mistwraith herself was probably as strange to him as he was to her. Something did seem off about him, but that was probably he was an Epic. Mistwraith did not trust him, by any stretch. If trusting BusDriver was here in Nowhere That Was Somewhere, than she should be in China. China, huh. Mistwraith had never actually been there, but-Bah! That was a tangent. Mistwraith needed to focus on getting the most she could out of this Quicksilver.

Actually, that was a bad idea. She should probably just join up, manipulating powerful Epics could lead to her losing her head. Mistwraith had heard of an Epic in Los Angeles that did that. Maybe Mistwraith, after setting up her empire...No, these were foolish thoughts. Mistwraith wouldn't want to be like that, would she? She was just a new Epic, although she did seem to have some pretty powerful powers. Mistwraith laughed out loud at that last thought. Powerful powers. What was she going to come up with now?

 

"Where are we going?" Mistwraith asked, well, ordered of BusDriver. "I want to know who this Quicksilver is." Mistwraith sat down on a bench as a flourish of mist swarmed around her, making it hard to see the interior of the bus.  

[Lightsworn Panda]

It was sometime in the afternoon when the Panda Army invaded Dalles.

 

For years, the Panda had worked on his goal. It had been about a decade since he was visited by the vision of the Radiant Panda, but the zeal that it had put in Panda still burned bright. For years, the Panda had amassed his army of pandas, delicately cloning and bestowing intelligence upon them. Behind the hill he was standing atop, thousands upon thousands of pandas stood in ordered ranks, cute and adorable faces set in grim determination. Before the horde of black and white fur lay the unsuspecting town of Dalles. Its denziens were still asleep, curled up in their soft beds.

 

The Panda breathed in deeply through his panda nose. He had once been human too. But he had cast aside the frailty of Humanity, and become a True Panda.

 

"Colonel Cuddles, you may begin the assault," murmured the Panda.

 

A panda standing to his right, wearing a red sashimono - the small flags samurai traditionally wore on their backs - saluted the Panda, and roared a command to the amassed pandas behind him. Each panda was outfitted like a classic samurai, with lacquered armor and a kasa (a flat and large round hat made out of reeds or straw).The Panda could not, sadly, clone materials such as steel, so his warriors had to make do with their organic counterparts. Each panda was armed with multiple sharpened bamboo spears, and a rather out of place yew longbow, not dissimilar to the ones the British would use in Medieval times. 

 

As one, the pandas took out their bows, strung them up and nocked arrows wrapped in oiled paper to their bows. Pandas hurried down the line, lighting the arrows with a torch. 

 

When the last arrow was lit, Colonel Cuddles roared a second order. Thousands of flaming arrows were released, shooting into the sky, each trailing a tail of fire, before reaching the apex of their climb, and began cresting downwards towards the town.

 

As the first arrows hit the town of Dalles, the Panda signaled a repositioning. The town was populated by Epics, and he doubted his pandas, as numerous as they were, could fare well against them. The pandas split up, running unnaturally fast towards defensive structures grown out of oak that had been set up around Dalles in Siege formation.

 

The Panda remained alone on the hill. He wasn't terribly fond of violence, and was open for diplomacy. However, he doubted the power-hungry epics would talk diplomatically, and so the show of force was necessary to cow them. 

 

The Panda had come to Dalles to create a haven for pandas. Sadly, Dalles was already inhabited. Driving them out was an unfortunate necessity. 

 

Buildings began to catch fire across the town. The Siege of Dalles had begun in earnest.

Edited November 8, 2014 by Lightsworn Panda

[Seonid]

The car was hidden in a small stand of trees, about a quarter mile outside of town. Ari laughed happily the moment she saw it. "I've never driven in a car before! Do we actually get to drive in it?" A tension seemed to have dropped from her since their conversation on the road, and her face seemed less worried.

 

That was a blessing.

 

Arvin smiled reassuringly. "Yes we do. In fact, we get to drive in it for a long time. You might be bored of it by the time we get home."

 

"I could never be bored of driving in a car! That would be like getting bored of sunshine! Only boring people would get bored of that." Arvin couldn't help himself, and he laughed uproariously. Her comment made a perverse sort of sense. He was going to have to get used to this again.

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice spoke.

 

"Interesting thing, finding a car like this one in a place like that. You almost might think that someone didn't want folks to know it was here."

 

The voice came from a man who leaned against the side of the car. Arvin could have sworn he hadn't been there a moment ago. He had a hawkish nose, and wore a brown leather jacket over what looked like military fatigues. Almost unconsciously, Arvin moved to place himself between the stranger and Ari, cursing himself for leaving his gun behind. Not that there had been a chance to grab it, of course. The stranger had a longbow and a sniper rifle slung across his back, and what looked like a machete in one hand, point resting on the ground, spinning idly.

 

"You might. And you might be right if you thought it. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

 

The stranger laughed a little. "The name's Ranger. And I'm just interested, justifiably I'd presume, in who would hide a car such as this and what they were doing here in Madras. A reasonable question, I feel."

 

Ranger. That sounds like an Epic name. This could get ugly fast. "Well, I'm sorry to leave your curiosity unsatisfied, but my daughter and I were on our way out, and we don't have time to answer stranger's questions."

 

"Hmm. That sounds right uncharitable, that does. Are you really in such a hurry to get back to The Dalles?" The stranger's smile grew wider, as if he knew that his statement would catch them off guard.

 

Arvin was experienced enough not to show his shock, but it took effort. "Now why on earth would you think that was our destination?"

 

"Oh...that's only where the registration is from, the GPS is set there to home, and all of the phone numbers in the car phone have area codes registered to The Dalles. A rather simple proposition, really."

 

In the face of that, the likelihood of a peaceful ending to this was growing slimmer by the minute. But there was room for one last try. "Get in the car, Ari. We're not going to listen to this snoop any longer." As he led her to the car, he noticed her shaking. The fear was back, and it hadn't even been fifteen minutes. He could have shot the man for just that alone. The stranger moved to put his hand on the door, preventing them from opening it. "Now, that's just downright impolite. I'd suggest you answer my questions. They are more important than you may realize." He moved to put his hand on Ari's shoulder. "I promise, I don't mean you any harm."

 

Ari jumped when he touched her. Arvin moved to take the man's hand off, but stopped in shock. A white something was coming through the trees. He recognized it from the jail. A unicorn again. What is going on here? But he knew enough to get them out of the way. The stranger heard the galloping hooves just in time and rolled out of the way. The unicorn turned around to charge at him again. Arvin hurried Ari to the car, then jumped in the driver's seat. Regardless of where it had come from, he was going to use the distraction.