What Happened In Astoria

[+Slowswift]

 

 

A tall, thin man in a rumpled gray suit stood at the door. His expression was condescending. His eyes were stormy gray, and he regarded the group with one eyebrow raised.

 

Timelock stood and walked over and grasped the man's hand. "Henry, nice to see you. How've you been?"

 

Henry, or The Inquisition, lifted his head in acknowledgement. "Well, thank you. Though I do not appreciate being made to wait." He aimed this last part at Gravitas.

 

The gravity lessened noticeably as the two glared at each other.

 

“Caleb...” warned Timelock.

 

The gravity returned to normal -- or, well, to what it had been before -- as the three walked back to the table.

 

Gravitas pulled out a chair for the Inquisition. "You have news?" he asked.

 

"I have indeed," The Inquisition said, his accent slipping now that he wasn't undercover. "I assume thou knowest of the Epics who rule this fair city, what they do ?"

 

"'Course we knew," said Architect gruffly as he bet. "We do our research. Raise you ten, Ricky."

 

"Enough with trivial news," ordered Gravitas. "I want to hea--" He cut off abruptly as there was a rumbling noise outside the window.

 

The Architect leaped from his chair, striding over to the curtains, which parted on their own as he drew near.

 

"Um, guys? You're going to want to see this. There appears to be a pile of ... zucchinis. An it's getting bigger."

 

"You can't be serious," Timelock snapped. He stood and walked over to the window. His eyes widened. "On the other hand, there does appear to be a large amount of zucchinis. And a group of Epics." He looked back. "I'd better go take care of this."

 

~~~

 

Timelock dashed through the lobby, shoving through the doors. Everywhere around him, objects stood still as he sped up his own time. He ran, stopping a block or so from the giant pile of vegetables, which was surrounded by Epics. 

 

That's the Financier with the top hat, he thought. And I don't recognize some of the others, but that's the Metal over there. Well. This was going to be fun. He slowed his time back down just in time to see one of the Epics melt the pile of veggies into mush. 

 

Oh, dear.

 

He started walking over as the Financier started screaming at the other Epic. The Financier calmed down a bit as Timelock drew near, and he could hear what they were saying. "...her. And fire this… heathen." 

 

Timelock cleared his throat. "Ég meina ekki að trufla, but may I ask what is going on here?" 

 

The Epics turned towards him. 

Edited May 7, 2015 by Slowswift

[Edgedancer]

The Metal noticed Brightdeath when she popped into existence behind the outhouse. He played along with it but her just standing there was getting weird… actually thinking about how she acted until now she was probably waiting for a dramatic moment for entrance. 

 

Not exactly a sentiment that came natural to him. Sure he wasn’t subtle about his entrances but he didn’t need to wait for the right moment. His entrance alone was as dramatic a moment as any could hope to be.

 

"Bioterror. I'll get to the point, I used to own a small town some ways across the border but unfortunately I emptied it in under a month. I'm looking for a city where I don't have to kill a few dozen people a day just to make my point. In exchange I can provide my services to kill those who you do actually want dead."

 

The Metal couldn’t help a quick chuckle. Can’t blame a man for being honest, nor for killing a town, I suppose. Refreshing, really.

 

His next move wasn’t that smart, though. The pile of zucchini fell down into an undistinguishable pile of rotten compost. Shame, Finnegan really likes those.

 

Still, how terrible a nickname would Mushy be?

 

Glancing over at him, the Metal could see him being at distraught as he guessed, maybe even more so. Keeping his mood up, is gonna be a pain.

 

Now was apparently the moment Brightdeath judged as suitable and she appeared next to him. Funnily enough, her entrance was pretty much ideal, for reasons she couldn’t even have guessed at. After some demonstration of her powers she ended up having a zero made out of solid light hanging in the air and just in time to stop Finnegan’s rant.

 

Said rant was a string of angry screaming at Bioterror that would make some vocals of a heavy metal band jealous. Once he noticed Sunshine’s light made zero, he shifted. Not exactly happy given the situation but there was something almost reverent in his behavior towards her.

 

Just as he was about to deal with Finnegan as he noticed something flicker at the range of his powers and then it was already there next to them. Not instant but fast enough that it may as well have been.

 

"Ég meina ekki að trufla, but may I ask what is going on here?" The newest new arrival- how much of those were they getting today? - a man in an admittedly fine suit, bursted into the scene. He had no clue what the first part of what he said meant but he didn’t care either.

 

“You wait until it’s your turn,” The Metal said to the newcomer, muted him and put enough pressure on his body to keep him from moving but not enough to hurt him, probably, he at least didn’t notice any bones breaking.

 

Postponing the new comer he casually walked over to Finnegan. He used the time to speak to Bioterror, manipulating his voice so he was the only one that could hear him, “Don’t worry. Just because he’s throwing a tantrum doesn’t mean doesn’t mean we’ll send you away. I’m just humoring him for now.”

 

Just in case Bioterror wanted to blurt out anything that could hurt the situation he prepared to manipulate his voice so only he could hear, for the time shortly after the Metal finished talking.

 

Once he was next to Finnegan he put a hand on his shoulders, “She effectively is hired anyway, we just haven’t decided where to put her. Little Sunshine’s name is Brightdeath by the way. Don’t be that sad for the zucchinis, though. Just think of it as them being reduced to zero, uniting them with the Savior for eternity. You can’t tell what number they used to have, not what they have been at all and soon even that will never been found again.  Maybe it was too early for them but they had a good end.”

 

Finnegan still didn’t look exactly pleased but at least calm enough not to try anything bothersome. Then again it would still be insane; just about everything Finnegan did was insane.

 

Over time the Metal had learned how to deal with him. Spending time watching his so called sermons and the like helped understand him, at least to the degree that broken brain of his allowed itself to be understood. He did not however specifically care about keeping his mood up, for Finnegan's sake. His antics were simply a lot more entertaining if his mood was good.

 

Having dealt with that problem he turned back to the newestcomer and released the restrictions he put on him, except a little bit of pressure that could easily be confused with sheer presence weighting down on him.

 

“It’s quite simple really, new people trying to get on my good side and a place in the city. I would really encourage you to at least follow them on the part where they are giving introductions to the guy that can own you. “

[the winter system]

The man that Brightdeath had almost dismissed seemed to be a little bit angry with Bioterror.

"HOW! COULD! YOU!"

In the same way that a hurricane was a little bit windy.

"You killed them! All of those poor zucchinis—they were doing nothing to you! Not a thing except sitting there and being zucchinis, and you killed them! You killed them all!"

That confirmed it, he was the one who probably summoned the zucchinis.

"YOU DESERVE THEIR FATE! HOU DESERVEST WHAT THOU GIVEST, AGENT OF THE ONE! THOU MASQUERADEST AS A DISCIPLE OF THE SAVIOR, BUT THOU ART…."

Agent of one? He loved the zucchinis and hated ones? Almost as nuts as the game loving Epic earlier. What is wrong with Epics in this town?

"You," he whispered. "You bring the Savior to this place of death! His golden light covers you in an aura of beauty!"

The man straightened his hat. "Hire her," he spoke to the Metal, "And fire this….heathen."

A man walked over and said "Ég meina ekki að trufla, but may I ask what is going on here?"

Brightdeath turned. The Metal seemed to want him to wait, so Brightdeath turned back to the man who was staring at her light orbs.

She summoned a bunch more of them.

“She effectively is hired anyway, we just haven’t decided where to put her. Little Sunshine’s name is Brightdeath by the way. Don’t be that sad for the zucchinis, though. Just think of it as them being reduced to zero, uniting them with the Savior for eternity. You can’t tell what number they used to have, not what they have been at all and soon even that will never been found again. Maybe it was too early for them but they had a good end.”
Zero. Why did the Metal mention that? Was everyone going nuts with numbers today? Obviously the Metal was humoring the man. Brightdeath saw that in his posture. Probably not wanting to excite the man again.

“It’s quite simple really, new people trying to get on my good side and a place in the city. I would really encourage you to at least follow them on the part where they are giving introductions to the guy that can own you."

Brightdeath looked from the Metal to the man.
Who was staring at the golden orb almost reverently. He really seemed to like it.

"Do you want to keep some of them?" She asked. Edited May 10, 2015 by Winter Cloud

[Voidus]

"So Sunshine, sorry Brightdeath here is new, so am I and now another new guy? What is this orientation day?" Bioterror said scathingly, attempting to ignore the insane man sobbing over the mound of dead zucchini.

I wonder if anyone would notice if I supressed his immune system, not lethally just give him some pneumonia or something, it'd only take 10 minutes. No, best behaviour, you need to stop killing people that's why you're here remember?

Turning back to the new arrival, Bioterror contemplated the problem. Epics tended not to move around much unless they had to, most settled in at a city, either taking over, getting killed or serving under someone else, now three new arrivals in one day?

Shrugging his shoulders, Bioterror dismissed it as a coincidence. Stranger things had happened since Calamity had appeared than Epics accidentally coordinating their arrival.

 

"Ah whatever" He said dismissively.

Bored, he held a hand under his face and focussed his powers inward once more, causing his eye to pop out of its socket.

Holding it up to his other eye he changed the color of the iris to a blend of red and yellow, forming the pupil into a reptilian slit, might as well look nice and intimidating for the newcomer.

Once satisfied he changed his other eye to the same form before allowing the detached eye to rush back into it's socket.

"Anything else? Well I'm sure we can find something. You've got an inventory, I can fast travel. Care to do a little shopping?" The Adventurer said with a smile.

He'd generally preferred the more hardcore games like shooters, tactical RPGs and Real time strategy but he also doubted there was a gamer alive who hadn't at least tried the sims once.

Decking out a new home with the best furnishings was always fun, and now that he had a companion who could store large objects, well that beat the old Rosebud cheat anyday.

"Shame there's no pool though, I always did like removing the ladders." He mused to himself as he took another look at their new base, mentally planning out the layout.

"Ah well, ready to go shopping? There's some building over that way that's pretty big, I'm sure we'll find something there." He said, addressing Lockvault as he pointed off into the ceiling.

[Blackhoof]

Part 3 of a compilation between me, Mailliw, Edgedancer, Sirce, and Mail-mi

 

 

 

After looking for Smasher for last few minutes, Disruption gave up the effort. It was like playing hide and go seek without anybody actually playing but him, something he had experience with.

 

He was out looking for this "almighty and powerful" Epic while everybody else got a piece of the fun. It sounded like a ruse to him. It seemed to him that everybody toyed with him. He stopped his train of thought, small as it was. He didn't have the time to think and walk at the same time. Some things were just too hard.

 

He turned towards the nearest fight, seeking someone to fry. He watched as one Epic in the air fell to the ground, landing with a sickening crunch. He sprinted towards the fight, only remembering his blitzing power once he actually got to the scene.

 

Dang it all. Why didn't I use my powers? I'm a freaking Epic with a blitzing power and I just ran here. I did all of that effort for nothing!

 

He sighted on an Epic who had wings, shooting blood red lightning from his fingertips. Not a single bolt hit the Epic.

 

Running closer, he tried to maneuver for a better shot, realizing once again that he hadn't used his blitzing power. Gosh dang it. He fired a couple more bolts, but the winged Epic dashed off towards Deathgale, not even seeing Disruption. Probably trying to give him a K.O. instead of me. Real mature.

 

Frustrated with how little of an effect he was getting, and seeing that the rude Epic from before was close to taking the enemy Epic out, he began to fire bolts as fast as he could, running along behind the Epic to keep him close. Tripping, he continued to fire bolts of lightning from his fingers. Almost like magic, one actually connected, more by luck than skill. As the Epic tumbled to the ground and began to burn, Disruption jumped up from the ground, beating the dust from his pants. He looked around, blushing slightly and hoping that nobody had seen him turf it. Reasonably satisfied, he pumped his fist. K.O. for Disruption. Take that everybody.

 

Looking around for another target, he again began to run towards where he had seen a tank earlier, once again forgetting about his blitzing power.

 

Hellfire grimaced as his fireball was destroyed, too far away for the explosion to hurt the water Epic. Pity.

Another diamond shard appeared next to him, and he punched it away with a fist of solid flame. The shield behind him had succeeded so far in stopping rear attacks, but that damnation Epic was still teleporting thing at him from the front and sides.

 

The water Epic suddenly threw more ice spears, and they glinted in the sunlight as they soared towards Hellfire. Realising that it would be too hard to deflect or block them all, Hellfire opted to dodge, projecting fire from his hands and feet and surging into the air like a rocket. The ice spears harmlessly flew under him, and he saw the water Epic now had ice armour, and a huge sword in his hand. Well, if it’s close combat he wants….

 

Gathering fire in his hands, Hellfire formed a sword of solid flame in one hand and a long, plasma whip in the other. With a battlecry, he shot towards the water Epic, raising his sword for a downward swing, simultaneously throwing the whip at the Icesteel shield that the annoying Epic was encased in. The whip turned into a napalm-like substance, and coated parts of the bubble in flames that burned without fuel. As long as he kept them alive, they would burn, weakening the shield and hopefully destroying it. Hellfire didn’t think there was much chance of that, though.

 

As he reached the water Epic, who stared up at him, Hellfire brought his sword down in what he hoped would be a killing blow.

 

Winterspell swung his sword from the side, deflecting rather than blocking the fire Epic's blow. As his momentum carried him past, he reversed his grip and brought his blade down with a respectable thud to the back of the other Epic, further sending him sprawling.

 

Apparently that flaming armor wasn't for show however, as the Epic stood back up, defiance in his flaming eyes. A challenge then? "Continue to amuse me boy. You only dig yourself deeper with every pinch of dust you throw at me."

 

It had taken long enough but the unknown Destructor was cut down by the windblades. His end was unsightly to say the least, certainly not something that spoke well of the other Destructors for associating with him. As the body hit the ground it got swallowed by one of the blood tendrils and transported somewhere else. Better to be safe than to be sorry.

 

At about the same time Dustdevil was hit by several bullets. Judging by the angle they were shoot from they came from Hawkwing. Deathgale contacted Mary, “Dustdevil got hit. Nothing instantly fatal but he’s losing a lot of blood.” Bullets pierced his body and Deathgale offhandedly waved in the direction he was attacked from, while he calmly continued talking, “He might not make it anyway but take him to a doctor.”

Mary gave him a nonchalant reply and Dustdevil sank into the blood puddle that had seeped out of his wounds.

 

Turning towards the direction he was shoot from, he saw Disruption standing over the charred corpse of Hawking. Dismissing his celebration over having killed an enemy Deathgale turned towards the remaining fight. With two Destructors down they had taken the advantage and it was time to clean this mess up.

 

Jag saw Desolation fall in a ruined heap of flesh. He had heard the flying Epic's call on the mobile and looked to see him destroyed. The Epic hadn't been given much time to enjoy his superiority. Poor kid. It had been his desire to come to this town and now he'd never see the takeover happen. Jag himself might not even see it succeed if he didn't retreat soon. But not yet. He shot at the suited Epic, but as expected, the holes turned to smoke. Jag growled in anger. These Epics were destroying his team.

 

He roared in anger when Hawk fell too. Jag knew now that they'd absolutely need to retreat. He watched as his friend's burnt and bloodied body quickly burned, leaving only a pile of ash. The ash would then burn bright and strong for a minute or so before dissipating, revealing his friend again. Jag ignored the ash, as he had seen Hawk resurrect before. Now he was really mad. One more kill and then they'd retreat. He charged for the dome of ice. He called for Smasher to come help with this last casualty.

 

Hellfire grunted as he was slammed into the ground by the frost sword, but fortunately his armour held. Landing in the dust, he scrambled to his feet, and turned quickly to the water Epic, glaring his defiance and assuming a combat stance. The Epic spoke, "Continue to amuse me boy. You only dig yourself deeper with every pinch of dust you throw at me." Hellfire’s eyes widened with anger, and his breath turned into little bursts of flame as he exhaled. This pathetic Epic was going to die. As he always did, he took his anger, and mastered it.

 

With a gesture his sword broke into two smaller ones, and Hellfire surged forward, swinging with precision to end the water Epic for good. His first swing connected with the broadsword, blocking it while his second bounced harmlessly off of the icey armour of the Epic’s side, only a tiny burst of steam implying any contact at all. This Epic was good. “His water must have a decent amount of salt in it, to be so resistant,” Hellfire thought with a shiver.

 

Kinesis had been a slightly annoyed when Winterspell had ordered him back. Not having anything to do while his leader fought the fire Epic one-on-one had been frustrating. That was, until one of the other Epics began running across the ground at him. He smiled, closing his eyes and feeling everything around him. It was glorious, being able to feel every movement, every tree rustling, every Epic breathing. He felt like a god. Breathing in the euphoria, he dropped a tree in the running Epic's path, giving it a large burst of energy to send it flying at the Epic as soon as the tree popped into existence. After falling down, the Epic stood back up. He seemed a little bit disoriented, but otherwise unhurt. He even picked up the tree and wasted time trying to throw it at him.

 

Smiling, Kinesis sent the tree back at him. The Epic jumped over it, dodging it handsomely. With a scowl, Kinesis sent the tree flying again, this time hitting the Epic in the back, sending him forward into the ground. This time as the tree hit, it shattered into many fragments of wood. As the Epic again got up and began to sprint for him, felt around for another object to throw, then chuckled as he found his next projectile.

 

The Epic was almost to the dome when he became very well acquainted with the inside of someone's house. It slammed into him, crushing in upon itself and covering him in dust and bricks. To Kinesis, with his spatial awareness, the effect was amazing to watch, the house and Epic meeting as it fell over him like a wave. Complimenting himself on a job well done, he mentally kicked back to watch the show of the Epic try to uncover himself.

 

Jag bounded across the ground, his enhanced legs propelling him at swift speeds. He ran, suddenly knocked backward by a log, no, a tree, that had come out of nowhere. Angry, he stood back up and threw the tree back at the dome as he ran. He took a few steps when again the tree flew at him. Ready this time, he jumped over it and laughed.

 

The tree hit him from behind, throwing him forward. Sparking Epic! Who did he think he was? Jag would rip him apart. Smasher's mostly transparent body sprinted past. But Jag wanted this kill for himself.

 

Winterspell had slightly been winded by the other Epic's quick retaliation. He wasn't a young man anymore, and this massive broadsword wasn't doing him any favors. He threw the sword at the Epic, giving him a moment to form a rapier in one hand a and something between a dagger and a sword. Using his mind to move the water in his Icesteel weapons, he moved them forward faster than he should have been able to, matching the other Epic parry for parry and blow for blow. Smiling into his opponent's eyes, he caught one of his opponent's swords on his knife, melting and reforming his weapon to wrap around the blade. It was a tug-of-war game now.

 

Sheets of metal flaked off of Metalmech as he jumped from the burning tank. Swearing, he picked himself up, just in time to watch the tank in front of him be hit again and explode in a fiery inferno. The shock wave washed over him and the shrapnel coated him in deep gashes that were quickly healed again. Slontze! he thought at the Epic inside the ball of ice, and started to storm his way toward him.

 

Suddenly, he stopped. He heard someone approaching behind him and saw, as he turned around, a deep red lightning bolt shot from the someone’s fingers. Sparks! Metalmech ducked down, hoping to avoid the bolt, and--

 

--and the bolt hit the ground five feet away.

 

Surprised by the horrid miss, Metalmech raised an eyebrow at the Epic as he took control of Jaguar's truck and aimed it towards him.

 

Disruption saw a beefed up truck with a massive gun on top turned toward him as he continued to run. He fired a few bolts of lightning at the metal monster. One actually hit the thing, but after barely more than a pause it continued to rotate its barrel at him. Disruption began to run the side, hoping to dodge whatever came his way. The cannon merely turned and continued to follow him. Risking his focus, he turned, while still running, to fire another set of bolts at the tank. As he did so, he again tripped, falling to the ground into a face full of dirt.

 

Freaking freaking frak! You have got to be joking. As he cussed to himself, he felt the whistle of shells go over his head, smacking into a tree several feet away. "Haha," he yelled, getting to his feet. "Take that! That was totally a dodge. And besides, you have bad aim too!" You weren't even-"

 

He cut off as another burst came hurtling at him. In that moment of panic, his visceral nature overwhelmed him, activating his blitzing power and letting him literally dodge a bullet. Based on the path, it would have hit him any other way. Keeping the blitz up for as long as he could, he began running for the truck, hoping to get to its occupants before they fired again.

 

Deathgale descended upon the Destructors’ soldiers. The little maggots tried to squirm away from him with no avail. A simple flick of his finger was enough to cut them down, some dying instantly others bleeding out on the ground after they lost their limbs.

 

Their bullets simply went through him, spreading smoke in the air over the bloodied corpses and cut of limbs. He shortly stopped as he finished his current cigarette and let them continue to empty their clips in him as he lit the new one.

 

Some slontze tried to use the moment the moment to close in on him and slashed at him with a knife. Letting the blade pass through him Deathgale exhaled a mouthful of smoke. It grabbed the attacker’s face and creeped into his mouth and nose. The maggot scratched at his throat, slowly suffocating as the smoke filled his lungs.

 

He turned back to-

 

A brick went through his head, obscuring Deathgale’s vision with a bout of smoke.

 

The one that threw the brick was Black Jaguar, standing in a half collapsed building.

 

Deathgale whipped a set of windblades towards him, also cutting another piece of debris out of the air. The blades hit the other Epic, unleashing a heavy gust of air that blew away the dust and parts of the debris Jaguar was using as ammunition.

 

The Destructors leader himself was thrown back by the impact. However he quickly stood up again unscathed, apart from his clothes hanging down his body in tatters.

[Blackhoof]

Part 4/4 of a compilation between me, Mailliw, Edgedancer, Sirce, and Mail-mi

 

He was almost to the dome now. Jag felt his body thrown to the side, flying across the field. He tumbled across the grass and looked over to see not a tree, but a ruined brick house where he had been. The Epic had thrown a house at him! Jag snarled and roared. He leapt for the house and pulverized a still-standing wall with his fist. He dismantled the building, throwing pieces of it soaring up towards the smoking Epic, and growled in triumph. But Smasher had beaten him to the prize. A couple of blasts of air hit him from behind. The smoker again. It tore through his body armor, but didn't penetrate his skin. He stood up and continued to destroy the house.

 

Hellfire grunted in exertion as his arm was jerked unexpectedly- the water Epic had wrapped one of his swords with his own! Hellfire’s eyes narrowed as the water Epic smiled smugly, and he tried to wrench his sword free. “Wait, why am I wasting my time doing this?” He thought as he realised he could control the shape and very existence of his sword. He pulled as hard as he could and suddenly dissolved his sword, freeing his arm and allowing him to throw himself forward in a brutal stabbing motion with his other blade. His strike was true, and it hit the water Epic straight in the centre of his cold chest.

 

The blood-lightning Epic--Blood seems to be our absolute enemy today--fired at the truck as it fired at him, and both of them missed horribly; the truck because the Epic dodged, and the Epic because...well, because he was a sucky shot. Metalmech fired one last shot, and smiled as it headed straight for the Epic’s forehead, and...

 

...the Epic became a blur. Sparks! He had a speed power too?! The Epic was at the truck before Metalmech could fire another shot, and Metalmech could see the grin on his face as he ripped open the door, probably with the intent to kill the people inside. The Epic’s grin faltered as he saw what was really inside the vehicle: nothing. It was completely under Metalmech’s control.

 

Frustrated, the Epic started to fire lightning inside the vehicle. Metalmech’s face contorted in a rage. He’s going to fry the circuits! That sparking little--but wait. Maybe it isn’t a bad thing...

 

Rolling up his sleeves, Metalmech stomped up towards the distracted Epic

 

Winterspell smiled inwardly as the fire Epic went to ram his sword in his chest. Rather than try to take the blow, he opted for another option. He used his morphing power, just in the region of his chest. He peeled his chest plate away and turned the middle of his front into a liquid and moved it to the side. Expecting to meet resistance, the other Epic put too much force to his blow, losing his balance and embedding his full arm through Winterspell's chest and stumbling into him. He quickly closed his armor around the Epic's arm, trapping him for a moment. He kept his physical body around the Epic liquid for now, but kept its temperature stable so it wouldn't evaporate contact with the fire Epic's skin.

 

Having the other Epic off balance and trapped for a moment, Winterspell looked for a gap in his fiery armor, and rammed a quickly-formed short sword into the chink beneath his shoulder.

 

Smasher heard Jag's call for assistance and began rushing toward the bubble of ice too. He was still fully incorporeal, so he was only barely able to be seen. He tried to move as fast as he could before someone took the time to notice him. To stay hidden, he had to leave his shield behind, since he couldn't make other things incorporeal too. His fists would be good enough for this job, though. It was a race between him and Jag to see who'd get the point for last kill.

 

Smasher chuckled as he ran past Jag fighting a tree. He didn't bother to help, since he knew from experience that it wouldn't hurt Jag at all. He'd be angry though. War Smasher ran past, straight at the bubble. He ran past a puddle of blood. Blood. Mary. Smasher pulled up short, just outside the bubble of ice. If he got too close or caused any type of bleeding, Mary would come. She'd ruin any solid part of his body. Irritated, Smasher decided to use his boring move. Boring, but effective. He created a large forcefield around the bubble and rapidly shrunk it. It sped towards its center, crushing the ice dome on its way.

 

Kinesis was startled as blood began erupting from his shirt. He began to fight it, preparing to get away, until Mary issued a warning through his shirt.

 

“War Smasher just pulled short of your little dome here. I’ll do you the favour and assume you don’t want to just stand here doing nothing, while he kills you.”

 

She poured more blood out of the patch on his clothes, spreading it out over Kinesis’ body and connected it to her pool of blood in the castle. It flowed down his body but before she managed to completely envelop him the ice dome around him suddenly shattered.

 

The body of the Epic should be next to be crushed. But when the forcefield shrunk, Smasher saw a blur of movement after the ice was destroyed. Stopping the rapid contraction of his bubble, Smasher was left with a small hand-sized bubble of ice and blood. Plenty of blood for one person, but Smasher wondered what that movement had been. He ignored that thought and reveled in his victory.

 

He stood triumphant, but disappointed with his resorting to desperate measures. The Epic hadn't even had defensive powers. But it worked. He thought. But a human had much more bone in them than the bubble contained. There had been that flash of movement when the bubble broke the ice. Smasher gave up on figuring it out. If the Epic came back, he'd kill him again. Smasher found Jag tearing a house apart. That hadn't been there before Smasher had run into the ice dome, had it?

 

Disruption found the vehicle to be empty. Empty! Why doesn't anybody face me? "They cower before me, that's it!" To vent a little of his frustration, he fired several blightning bolts at the truck, frying most of the electronics.

 

He turned, seeing a massively brutish-looking Epic coming towards him. "Thinking you can challenge me? Ha! Think again puny worm!" Accompanying these words he began firing lightning bolts from his fingers. To his pleasure, a few of them even hit the other Epic.

 

Blackness was replaced with a glow of orange. Eternal fire restored the phoenix again. Hawkwing didn't enjoy dying, but this was his favorite part: Being reborn in a blaze. The glow brightened into a large flame and soothed Hawk's pains, restoring him to his original Calamity-blessed body. The flames burned away and Hawk felt rejuvenated. Rejuvenated, but wary. He had already been killed once this battle, he didn't want it to happen again. He flew up high, away from the smoker, Deathgale. He stayed away from the battle, assuming Jag would call a retreat or tell him where to assist.

 

Jag growled at Smasher taking his victory, but stifled the fury for now. "Retreat now," he said into his mobile. Hawk flew past, lifting Smasher by his neck with his talons. Jag saw his few Commandos take the Lightning with Metalmech inside and drive off and Hawk's couple remaining did the same in their Escalade after picking up the scrap metal Smasher called a shield. Jag bounded after them.

 

Metalmech was barely affected by the first blood lightning bolt. His invincibility easily took care of that one. With a grim smile on his face, he kept walking towards the Epic, with the intent to kill.

 

That’s when the second one hit.

 

It hit in exactly the same place as before, coursing through the metal that had yet to flake off his body and zapping the burned skin underneath. Metalmech cried out in pain as his entire right side spasmed, dropping to the floor.

 

SPARKING STORMING SPARKING SLONTZE!!

 

“Retreat now,” Jag’s voice said through the radio. Struggling to move, Metalmech moved one of the cars over to himself--the Lightning--and climbed inside.

 

I will get you, little Epic, he thought at his attacker. When we return, you’re dead.

 

Disruption, seeing the other Epic recoil from one of his hits, jumped for joy. Literally.

 

Unfortunately, he was still running at the other Epic. When he fell he landed wrong and tumbled to the ground, smacking his knee into a rock.

 

"Ahh! Acht! Sweet mother of Calamity!" Whimpering into the blood on his shirt, he called for help from Mary.

 

"I'm down! I'm down! Get me out of here! I already hit a couple Epics, but now I'm done!"

 

His words were thankfully cut off as blood enveloped him.

 

Hellfire cried out in shock as he fell forward, a hole forming in the water Epic’s chest before his sword even touched it. His right arm and sword went straight through the newly-opened hole, and the chest- and backplate of ice reformed behind it, trapping his arm in the Epic’s chest. “What in the EVERLOVING F-” Hellfire’s thought was interrupted when the smirking Epic jabbed a short sword made of ice into his left armpit.  Hellfire’s eyes blazed as the pain shot through him, and his arm fell limply to his side. He suddenly remembered the salt in this water, and it was touching him. From the corner of his eye he saw armoured vehicles driving away and Epics fleeing. “Cowards! Useless mugs! Nothing was going right!”

 

With a roar, Hellfire sent fire blazing all along his arm, but it was weaker than it should have been. Simultaneously, he blew a stream of flames into the smug Epic’s stupid face, and created solid flames from his very skin inside the Epic itself. The Epic didn’t seem to burn or evaporate, but his water could be pushed, and with a mighty roar, the solid flames filled the Epic from the inside out, spikes of it coming from his every exposed surface, blowing him apart in a spray of water and ice. The plates of ice were still attached to his arm, but they were no longer attached to the now-dead water Epic, and Hellfire wasted no time projecting fire from his palms and feet to get airborne.

 

He felt blood running down his side, and he quickly plugged the wound with cool, solid flames. But it hurt like hell, and he knew he needed medical attention. Sparing a quick glance downwards at the body of his fallen foe, he smirked, but the smile fell from his face as he saw the shards of ice and water melting, and reforming. “The stupid Epic is a High Epic! The cheat!” Finally Hellfire melted the ice plates off of his arm, and he flew higher and further away, following the armoured convoy. It was time to introduce himself to his new allies.

Edited May 18, 2015 by Blackhoof

[Sirce Luckwielder]

 

"Sure, but let's make sure to not make the admins mad. Keep casualties to a minimum, not break too many things, you know. I probably should use ASL whenever we're in public, just in case we run back into those hooligans again. Unless you have some special signs you want to show me, I'm ready to go. You only need to show them to me once."

 

 

Kinesis was legitimately terrified for one of the first times since he had been granted Epic powers. In his perfect little world, a world where he was omnipotent and nothing escaped his notice, he had just been show up. First, an Epic had come within inches of killing him, all without him noticing. Him; the ultimate sentry, the omnipotent god. Second, blood had erupted out of his shirt. Matter teleportation wasn't something that he hadn't seen before, but the unexpected covering of blood had caught him off guard. It had felt like Mary had turned on him. In that moment, as blood began covering him, he had thought he was going to die. The worst thing was just standing there. When the shock had worn off, he hadn't even moved to shake off the blood. He had tried to use his teleportation power, but something about the blood made him unable to move it with his mind. In those seconds, he hadn't been the god he had thought. He hadn't even been an ant. He had been less. And it scared him beyond belief.

As he came out of his thoughts, he looked around him. Diamond glistened everywhere. A pure, flawless mass of it. Flawless except for one thing. On the ground around him was a mass of blood. He wondered how Mary could have been so sloppy. The blood was all over, and it seemed to be spreading. Looking around for its source, he started. The blood emanated from where his legs were. No. Where his legs should have been. Where he had once had long, strong, and powerful legs, there was now nothing but two stumps and a mass of skin and blood.

With a horrible rush, he finally perceived the pain. It overtook him, and in that sickening, biting, bitter moment, he knew he would never walk naturally again. Not only had that Epic snuck up on him, but he had handicapped him forever. If that cursed Mary hadn't stepped in, he would be dead, he would be nothing. He owed his life to that witch. That horrible monster that Winterspell so disliked, and Kinesis with him. She was responsible for saving him, even with this handicap.

He would have rather died.

Someone ran past. He yelled at them, almost in primal way drawing them over.

"I can't do anything with this pain. Give me some morphine, sever my spine, I don't care. Just get me a bandage for this wound, get rid of the pain, and get me out of here!"

He yelled the last sentence with fury, angrily shooing the person way. He felt them running away, hopefully to summon a healing Epic or a surgeon.

Looking at the blood that coated him, he growled out through the pain. "Mary, as soon as I can get out of here, you better put me in the fight again! You hear?!? You hear?!?"

Quietly, almost to himself, he shed a tear. Not from the physical pain, but the mental and emotional pain. As soon as he was in the fight again, he would pay that Epic back. He wouldn't kill him, no, that would be too easy. No, he would make him suffer. A hundred times his agony wasn't enough to satiate this pain. Once he had destroyed him, he would once again be the god he knew himself to be. Thinking of his revenge, he cackled manically and hoarsely to himself as someone came in to attend to his wounds.

[Edgedancer]

The body Mary pulled out of the ice-dome was still mostly intact, apart from a lack of legs. Acceptable loses. She pulled Kinesis out of her pool and set him down on the diamond ground.

 

Turning her attention back to the battle it she-

 

Screaming from outside distracted her. She dived out of her pool, resting her arms on its edge. Like the entire chamber it was colored in different shades of red. Lucentia made the chamber under the castle specifically how Mary wanted it.

 

The blood pulled out of her clothes and was flowing back into the pool without leaving a stain. Not letting her dress get stained with large amounts of blood or even a little bit was one of the things Lucentia had insisted on very much and once she insisted on something there wasn’t really a point to try and disagree.

 

As much as she loved her, sometimes Lucentia could be a bit demanding.

 

Kinesis was lying on the ground, moaning about his pain and scared away a maid. Mary signaled her to get medical treatment for the weakling. Like all the other maids the woman was of average height, wore a loose robe hiding her features and a mask covering up her face and hair. They simply lasted a lot longer, if Lucentia couldn’t tell them apart from each other and Deathgale made sure that the replacements were as average as possible.

 

"Mary, as soon as I can get out of here, you better put me in the fight again! You hear?!? You hear?!?" For a moment she just impassively stared at him, until he had enough time to finish his internal groaning.

 

“Nope,” she bluntly said, “it seems like they are retreating anyway and I’ve better things to do than simply throwing you out there without thinking about it first. Now excuse me while I deal with those more important things.”

 

Without further notice she dove back down into the pool, barely seeing a medic heading towards Kinesis. Just then she heard Disruption screaming for her help. Immediately she pulled him into her chamber as well.  Surveying the situation afterwards it looked like the Destructors were already retreating and Disruption wasn’t injured at all… the idiot would have to give a proper explanation later.

                                                                  

Deathgale watched the Destructors retreat. Pursuing them was an option. However it was getting late and even Lightwrought’s control of the sky was reaching its limit.

 

“Mary, how exactly are Winterspell’s men doing?” He asked into the patch of blood, while moving over to Winterspell.

 

“Dustdevil is hospitalized like you asked. However, I have no idea if he’ll make it. Disruption is an idiot but otherwise not injured. Concerning Kinesis, I managed to pull him out there fast enough to save his life but it seems like his legs gut crushed.”

 

Kinesis should still be usable without his legs, Deathgale thought, and they could probably get him prostheses, even if Dustdevil didn’t make it this battle wasn’t a bad trade.

 

Having lost their newcomer, the tank and most of their soldiers there was a good chance the Destructors had learned their lesson. Otherwise, from what he’d seen putting them down for good shouldn’t be too hard.

 

The bartender reached the other High Epic, “Winterspell, good work. Dustdevil got injured.” Deathgale delivered the information matter-of-factly. He didn’t care in the least about Winterspell worrying about his subordinates or the man himself but he hid that behind a mask of politeness that didn’t let any of his disdain show. Personal affect wasn’t a reason to hinder business. “In case you want to witness whether or not the doctor can save him.” Deathgale made a gesture to the side and a blood portal connected to the same place Mary send Dustdevil raised itself in front of them.

                                                    

The newestcomer hesitated for a moment and that was all the time needed for the Metal to take interest in something else.

 

Bioterror popped something out of his face and upon turning towards him he could tell that it was indeed one of his eyes.  Still attached by the sinew even. Not exactly appetizing but he had seen worse. Mostly what was left of people after he killed them.

 

Once he finished with his eyes back in his skull they had a quite interesting look. They’d make good dragon eyes, the color between yellow and red, reminiscent of fire, and the pupil in the fitting reptilian slit.

 

Most definitely an interesting sight.

 

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said without bothering to hide his voice from Finnegan, who was apparently hugging the solid light zero, “those are some sparking awesome eyes you’re rocking there. Got any other nice tricks like that?”

[Blackhoof]

Hellfire glided closer to the ground, his armpit wound hurting like Calamity. The Epics below him were still retreating, the diamond wall having vanished long behind them.

Too tired to continue flying, Hellfire gave himself one last boost before landing roughly. The boost had taken him a dozen metres ahead of the group, and they slowed to a stop as they approached him.

Gripping his side in pain, Hellfire staggered towards his battered allies. They were on guard, but could see he posed little threat. "I am Hellfire." He stifled his annoyance at them for retreating, although by that point he had already been losing anyway.

"I came here from Australia to punish Lucentia for attacking my fortress. Figured you guys could help me. I reckon you want to get even as badly as I do, eh?"

[Mailliw73]

 

Jaguar sprinted beneath Hawkwing, next to the Escalade. They left the fight behind quickly. The fire Epic who had joined the fight landed in front of them. Jag gripped his machetes, weary, but ready for a fight. As they approached, Jag realized he was in pain. Hawk landed and released Smasher when they reached him. 

"I am Hellfire. I came here from Australia to punish Lucentia for attacking my fortress. Figured you guys could help me. I reckon you want to get even as badly as I do, eh?" He said. 

 

Jag nodded. "I'm the Black Jaguar. Call me Jag. These are my partners, War Smasher, Hawkwing, and Metalmech. We're the Destructors." He introduced them. "We came to take the city, but now it's a matter of vengeance. They killed Desolation and Hawkwing. Luckily, Hawk's deaths don't last long. If you care to work with us, we're going to camp out for the night once we cross into Washington. Our vengeance will be repaid another day."

 

Hellfire agreed to accompany them. Jag took off again, heading east so they could cross the river without going through the city. At the coast, away from town, Hawkwing picked Smasher up in his talons and began flying. Metalmech would drive around to the east until he could loop around on land and meet them on the other side. Smasher began creating forcefields in the river for Jag. He took a running leap and soared off the coast. A bubble expanded at his feet, and he used the momentum to propel himself forward with another jump. Another force field expanded beneath him just before he hit the water and he bounded across the river, bouncing on bubbles. Once on the other side, they went a bit further to the nearest town, luckily without any real Epics. They found an empty hotel and moved in for the night. 

 

Once Metalmech showed up, Jag gathered the group. "Hawk has heard of an information broker up north a ways. He can also provide equipment, rumors say. We'll head that way in the morning after we get a few new commandos." The others agreed and they all spread to their rooms. 

 

Edited May 25, 2015 by Mailliw73

[A Joe in the Bush]

“Land Ho!”

 

Blackwave cracked his eyes open, then rolled out of his bed, landing in a crouch on the wooden floor. He grabbed his pants off his desk, pulling them on as he scowled at his bed. He’d have to get it cleaned again. He grabbed his sword and the now empty canteen, hooking them onto his belt.

 

He kicked down the door to his and walked onto the main deck. using his barefoot he tapped the door, restoring it to how it had been before he decided to leave. He strode to the Port side, shoving the new crewmember out of his way, and looked over the Railing.

 

Long Beach was on the Horizon. It was hard to see since the sun was just dipping behind the horizon at his back, but he could tell it was a smaller city, probably wouldn’t have much Loot or even resistance. But it did have an information broker. Hopefully he would have information on Astoria and Bloody Mary. He didn’t want to enter the city blind, like he did Hong Kong. He didn’t want to end up piloting the Tidebreaker with only a skeleton crew again.

 

There was a creak of wood from behind, and he scowled. Calico again. “What do you want?”

 

“Well Captain, I just wanted permission to enter the city. The men are getting Eager.” Calico joined him at the railing, leaning his back against it,still watching the deck.

 

Blackwave thought about it. Usually the would flood the city as they entered it, but this time they needed to get information, not loot. “No, just get us into the port, and we’ll wait for Dragon to contact us.”

 

“Dragoon.”

 

“What?”

 

Calico sighed, and turned to face him fully. “It’s Dragoon sir, not dragon. We’re trying to contact Dragoon for information.”

 

“Just get us to the port. and while you’re at it, send someone to clean my cabin again.”

 

Calico Harry smirked. “She didn’t even last for a full day? She wasn’t good enough or something?”

 

“She had a very shiny knife, and an aptitude for it as well. I don’t enjoy getting stabbed there.”

 

The quartermaster hesitated at that. Calico was supposed to make sure the slaves were searched before they entered Blackwave’s room. the fact that this bedwarmer had a knife meant that she was either a plant, or someone didn’t do their job correctly. “I, will see to it sir.” Straight to the point this time. He knew he’d messed up.

 

He pushed himself off the railing, then paused. “Captain, the new recruit, what’s ‘is name, wants to know if there’s a mirror on board. Says he wants to see what his eye looks like.”

 

Blackwave ignored the remark. Calico knew what to do about that, though the whole lack of mirrors tended to confuse Harry, and the rest of the crew. “Just get us to the port Harry.”

 

The man nodded, and hurried off.

Blackwave leaned out over the railing, and stretched his arm downwards. The ocean rose up to meet him. Some of the water poured into his canteen, refilling it from when the woman had spilled it. The rest of it wrapped around the ship, pushing it forward as the winds picked up. They sped towards Longbeach, and Blackwave grinned at the sight of it.

What would the people think, seeing a massive pirate ship pulling to the bay, followed by a tidal wave? If past cities were any indication, they would flee in terror. It really was unfortunate he couldn’t let the wave hit the city this time. He needed Dragoon intact, and he didn’t know where the man was in the city. Hopefully, he would see the ship, and send someone to contact him.

[+Slowswift]

 

Can't move.

 

How. Dare. They.

 

Can't move.

 

Who did these people think they were, with their "holier than thou" attitudes?

 

Can't move.

 

Oh, what he wouldn't do to them once he was free, whether or not he actually could do anything.

 

Can't move.

 

Calm down. Deep breath. Don't blow it; stay calm. All things good to those who wait...

 

Still. Can't. Move.

 

He sat fuming for a while, doing his best to rein in the urge to explode. It wasn't that he was trying to be a good person and not kill people. Oh no, he wanted these Epic dead and he wanted it now. But killing everyone in sight didn't seem to be a terribly efficient way to conquer a city. He wanted -- needed -- people to rule over.

 

 

 

Free.

 

Finally able to move, Timelock froze time and zipped back to the hotel.

 

~~~

 

Timelock stood perched atop the bridge, looking out over the city. He had come up here after delivering his findings to the other Epics, using his enhanced dexterity to make a climb that would've daunted lesser beings.

 

He had arrived at the hotel scarcely a second after leaving the Epics, or so it appeared. In reality, Timelock had taken his sweet time, thinking about the newcomers.

 

Gravitas and the other Epics had seemed troubled by the news. After a quick good-bye, the group had gone their separate ways. 

 

Now, on top of a bridge in the cool night air, Timelock was putting his full brainpower into scheming.

Edited May 24, 2015 by Slowswift

[Edgedancer]

A cryptic a few was the only response Bioterror gave the Metal.

 

Have to give it to him; he knows how to sell himself.

 

He could tell that the newestcomer had already run away again, just as fast as he had arrived. He’d probably not taken well to being sidelined. Some poor sobs just had a much bigger ego than fit unto their shoulders.  Like those that expected to be paid attention after interrupting a conversation lead by the most powerful Epic in town. Especially, if there was nothing he could do to keep the Metal from just keeping him in space.

 

Anyway, one Epic less he had to deal with. Now, what to do with the two still here?

 

“Alright you two,” he addressed Sunshine and Bioterror, “I am not exactly the one that manages our personal. However, I will tell him about you. Given how late it is already he’ll probably summon you for an interview tomorrow.”

 

Deathgale would be the one to decide what to do with them.  From what he has seen of him Bioterror should be able to deal well with him well enough. The few tricks he apparently still has left would certainly end up as a topic. Secrecy against Lucentia isn’t exactly something he’s fond of or the wrong kind of backbone for that matter.

 

Sunshine… at least he won’t cut her up on their first encounter.

[Sirce Luckwielder]

 

Dragoon sat in an massive chair, it's size almost more of a couch. It was covered in layers of pillows and fine silks, making it a fine piece. With a flick of his hand, a servant girl rushed over, carrying a plate full of sweets.

He pulled off his glove, not wanting to get it dirty with the food before him. It was, after all, leather imported from Italy. He forced the girl to wait a moment as he gazed at his hand. As a youth, he had once used his hands for work, scraping by a living after his parents had abandoned him at age nine. He had become mixed up with the local crime ring, the Black Wolves, and had worked as a messenger/tough until he had been about thirty. With the arrival of Calamity, he had gone from barely more then a walking brick to the leader of the Cavalry, the new crime ring he had set up in the stead of the Black Wolves. Now, looking at the hand, he felt pride. Where he had once had a muscled, and callused hand, he now had the hands of a successful man. Almost gone were the calluses, the scars would stay forever, but had faded a bit. The hand was soft, no longer accustomed to work. It had a little fat on it, but he prefered that to the layers of muscle he had previously had. Besides, he was successful, he had the right, no the duty to splurg. Now that he was an Epic, he didn't need to do work. People scrambled and begged to serve him. After the many years of work, he deserved it.

Lifting his hand, he picked up a sweet and placed it into his waiting mouth. Ah. The delicacies one could enjoy through power!

As he reached his hand out for another sweet, the door swung open, revealing one of his Horsemen. Dragoon hastily plopped the chocolate in his mouth, then hurredly pulled on his glove. Prescience stood respectfully against the wall, waiting for his master to allow him to proceed. Even though he had powers of Epic proportion, Prescience was still only a human, one of four mortal men that Dragoon had Gifted powers to. Once the glove was replaced, Dragoon waved him into the room.

"Sir," he said, inclining his head into an almost-bow, "the pirate ship has entered the bay. What would you wish us to do?"

Hmmm, I was wondering when he would arrive. Mary had been becoming more and more restrictive of trade of late and he needed her gone. The pirate fit into the equation to make that happen.

"Send Journey tomorrow morning with Affinity to meet him. Tell them to bring him, and one other person if he wishes it, to the sitting room tomorrow to discuss what our plans are. Tell Affinity to give him the normal run of questions and see if he is truly here to help. I have too much weighing on this. I need to be absolutely sure of this."

With another head tip/bow, Prescience left the room, leaving Dragoon able to go back to enjoying his sweets.

                                        

Winterspell took the news of Dustdevil in stride. He hadn't noticed the other Epic get hit since he had been so concerned on fighting that fire Epic. Before stepping into the portal, he thought about the implications that he would have here. He turned to Deathgale. He knew that the wind Epic thought him soft for caring about his soldiers, so he chose his words carefully. "If there is any chance of saving him, Blindsight will be able to do it. Can Mary send me to Icesteel Keep? I can pick him up and while I am there I'll talk to Lightwrough so she can stop extending the daylight. It won't take more than a moment and it will get him off of your hands st the soonest moment possible. I know that Mary can only get me where her blood is, but once I am at the wharf I can get into the Keep and out of it as soon as possible."

 

[Edgedancer]

On Winterspell’s request the wall of blood split into two, one moving towards Winterspell and the other one towards Deathgale. “Of course, we’ll wait for you to finish your business,” Deathgale said.

Winterspell replied with an unnecessary thank you and left through his portal. Deathgale afterwards calmly stepped through his own portal.

 

A clear blue light refracting from his surrounding made it easy to tell that he was not only back in the castle and also within his personal wing.

 

The first room down the floor he entered a room equipped to act as his own personal bar, a proper counter, stools, dart, pool, all of it designed out of glass and metal to fit with the esthetics of the castle.

 

Currently, he also found the Metal in the room, playing a game of pool, next to him a slightly nervous servant girl standing ready to pour him a drink. Judging by his shoot, the ten just barely stopping in front of the corner pocket, he was actually playing in earnest.

 

Deathgale walked over to the table, “I assume you’re here because of the trouble Mary vaguely mentioned?”

“Exactly,” the Metal trailed off as he concentrated on his next shoot, this time landing the ten inside the pocket.

 

The lack of proper conduct always has been a problem with the Metal. His actual position jut never penetrated into his mind until Lucentia reminded him. The raw amount of power did allow him to get away with his disrespectful behavior but ultimately he was still on a tight leash. However, here he had a rather simple way to make him listen.

 

“Hand me the cue,” Deathgale told the Metal. Once he had the cue he quickly sank the remaining balls with a few skillful shots. A display that was undoubtedly above his own skill at the game.

 

It drawed an annoyed grumble from the Metal, “Fine, you have my undivided attention. After Mary ordered me out I ended up meeting two Epics that want to hire with us. I told them you would give them their interview tomorrow.

 

“The first one was a High Epic named Brightdeath, I call her Sunshine, can solidify light with a range of textures and teleportation tied to a danger sense. Personality wise she was actually somewhat adorable.”

 

The servant let out a muffled sound. She noticed her insolence the moment it happened and caught enough of it, making whatever it was supposed to convey unrecognizable. A shame, they should be better behaved, if simply to keep the need for replacements low.

 

Fully aware of the trouble she was in the girl shrieked away from Deathgale’s gaze on her.

 

Unfazed by the entire situation, the Metal took the glass from the tray she was holding, took a sip from it and pushed her away from the table, taking the chance to put his hand lower than was necessary. From the way she stumbled to the door it was rather apparent that the Metal was using his power to quickly push her out of the room.

 

Given their dresses, once she was out of sight he wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from the others afterwards.  

 

The entire display earned a raised eyebrow from Deathgale. In response he got a sluggish shoulder shrug, “You’re the one that wanted me to say on topic, just fair if you don’t get sidetracked either.

Anyway, where was I. Ah yes, I was about to compare Sunshine to a puppy, rowdy and prone to doing something stupid but actually eager to please once she understands who’s in charge.

 

”The other one is called Bioterror, capable of manipulation organic organisms and apparently can pull parts of his body back into himself. Much more disciplined.

Then there was some other random guy that either had super speed or something that can simulate it, which ran away almost immediately because I didn't pay him the attention he wanted and that was my day.”

 

“I see,” Deathgale responded, “You’re free to go but just to make sure you still remember, don’t go and play around with the slaves. That will only turn into a bother for all of us.”

 

Giving another shrug the Metal left the room. Deathgale moved behind his counter and mixed himself a drink, while contemplation tomorrows interviews.

[Aonar]

 
Azrael stood on the balcony, listening. Slowly, the sounds of battle began to filter in. There. They should be about halfway by now, if we can hear them. He nodded to Nightshade. It’s time.

 

A great ram made of shadow began to gather before the balcony door. With a gesture, he sent it crashing through, into the room inside. “Lights out, Midnight.”

 

The Epic stepped inside, and instantly, the room went dark. Azrael touched the surface of the roiling darkness, and teleported to what he assumed was the centre of the room. Let there be light. The shadow dissipated, revealing the room’s contents.

 

It was lavishly decorated, as befitting an Epic of Overwatch’s stature. A few servants stood about the room, petrified, unsure of what to do. Overwatch himself sat in a simple throne at the end of the room, leaning back; relaxed, bored, contemptuous. He looked kingly, silver-haired but well-muscled despite obvious age. “And who might you be?”

 

He gave a little bow. “I am known as Azrael.”

 

Overwatch raised an eyebrow. “Azrael, the archangel of death, the taker of souls... You think rather highly of yourself, don’t you?”

 

“So one would imagine,” Azrael said, tilting his head in acquiescence. “You cannot deny the name a certain elegance, however.”

 

“Perhaps. Let us dispense with this idle chatter. I know that your fellows are fighting their way through my tower. They’re doing an admirable job. It won’t be enough.”

 

Azrael shrugged. “I would not discount them so quickly, but you have come to the root of the issue. I seek to make a proposition, Overwatch. Rather than allow our servants to fight, and to die, leaving us both weakened, why not settle this here and now, like gentlemen?”

 

“A duel?” He gave single, barking laugh. “If you insist.” Overwatch stood and stepped down from his throne. “One condition. I like to see the faces of my prey before I kill them.” A wolfish grin broke out over his face.

 

Bowing his head, Azrael reached up towards his hood. “I accept your conditions.” As his fingers touched the dark fabric, it dissolved into a cloud of shadow. He stepped forwards as the darkness dispersed, revealing himself. The cloak was gone, replaced by a well-cut shirt and tie of the same pitch black colour. He was tall, thin and fine featured, with jet black hair; appearing far younger than he should. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing dozens of dark lines twining around his forearms like some complex tattoo.

 

Overwatch blinked, his smile slipping for a moment. “A boy. A boy threatens to topple my empire.” Boy? That’s a little harsh. I can’t look that young. He shook his head. “The world has quite the sense of humour, sometimes.” The Epic rose into the air a few inches, energy crackling around his fingertips. “Let us get this over with.”

 

Azrael stretched out a hand, darkness pooling across the ground, reaching up towards his fingers. It slowly formed into a rapier, each detail perfectly rendered by the shadow. It was a replica of one he’d seen a long time ago, in a museum.

 

He swung it lightly, checking the balance. Nodding, satisfied, Azrael raised it in mock salute to Overwatch, then lowered it into a basic guard.

 

The Epic smirked, looking amused. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you never to bring a knife to a gunfight, boy?” He flicked his fingers towards Azrael, and glowing bolt of power leapt from his hands.

 

The dark sword flashed downwards, almost too fast for the eye to follow, deflecting the bolt down towards the floor. It sizzled into the carpet, as Overwatch went still, shocked. “Sparks.”

 

Smirking, Azrael stalked forwards, blade at the ready. More bolts came, as Overwatch was spurred into action again. Azrael calmly batted each one away, his weapon blurring as it moved ever faster through the air.

 

He slowed, unable to move forwards under the increasing onslaught. Overwatch pressed his advantage, floating closer. For a moment, the were held in perfect equilibrium, energy crackling in all directions. Then Azrael slipped; his sword just a fraction of an instant too slow.

 

The bolt caught him in the stomach. He curled around it, staggering as it drove the air from his lungs. Then he drew himself up straight again, smiling all the more broadly. Seeing Overwatch’s confusion, Azrael began to laugh. “Honestly, did you think I would start a fight I thought I could lose?”

 

He lazily swept his sword through the air, razor sharp shards of darkness rolling off the blade. They flew forwards, before embedding themselves in something a few feet Overwatch’s face. Prismatic cracks spread across the space in front of the Epic. A shielding power? Unfortunate. I could just brute-force it…

 

Azrael walked forwards again, now ignoring the bolts striking him. They burned for an instant against his skin, then went out, without leaving a mark. He stopped just short of the barrier, then tapped lightly against it, mouthing two words. Behind you.

 

Overwatch narrowed his eyes, and stole a quick glance over his shoulder. Then he stopped and turned, slowly. Something was rising from his shadow. A crude caricature of Overwatch himself, warped, twisted and misshapen; limbs replaced by dozens of writhing tentacles, and mouth opening impossibly large, with multiple rows of broken teeth.

 

He tried to step backwards, tried to flee, but the abomination’s many limbs took hold of him, burrowing into his flesh. The Epic’s screams were cut short as the construct’s maw engulfed him. Completely concealed by darkness, wet cracks emanated from the spot where Overwatch used to be.

 

Azrael waved his hand, and the shadow fled. All that remained of Overwatch was bloody pile of meat and shattered bone. He looked to Overwatch’s vanilla servants, who had pressed themselves as close to the wall as possible. “Would any of you be so kind as to clean this up? I can’t have this garbage dirtying my throne room.”

 

All but one ran screaming from the room. Sighing, he encapsulated the mess in darkness, and flung it out the door, off the balcony.

 

Nightshade and Midnight cautiously stepped into the room, avoiding the bloodsoaked carpet near his feet. Azrael sat down in his new throne, calling his cloak around him again. A knock came from the door to the stairs. “Ah. That’ll be the rest of them, then.” Turning towards the one remaining vanilla, he decided to try his luck again. “Any chance you’d be willing to open the door for me?” She promptly fainted. Rolling his eyes, he sent a tendril of shadow to open the door.

 

Twilight, Darkquake, Vires and Eclipse filtered in. “Report please, Twilight.” While Twilight Spark’s cold, almost nihilistic objectivity was more than a little disconcerting, it also made her the best choice for getting an unbiased report.

 

“Less than half-dozen minor Epics were encountered on the stairs and only a few vanilla guards; either this was only a relatively weak faction within the city, or most inhabitants of this area have left for one reason or another. They, along with the servants who ran out of the room a few minutes ago have been dealt with.” Her syllables were clipped and precise, each word unhurried and perfectly enunciated, albeit monotone. It was a little creepy, if Azrael was being honest with himself. The Epic was nearly as inhuman as the constructs she created.

 

“Given this location’s position relative to the town, and the possibility of exposure to other organized forces, it would be best if we could establish defenses immediately. However, the unusual blue light observed in the sky is fading rapidly, and none of use with the capacity to erect large-scale barriers are capable of doing so without definite shadows. Given the circumstances, I would recommend creating a temporary barrier enclosing the tower, and appointing a rotation to ensure no attack is made while our guard is down.” Could have figured that much out for myself, thanks.

 

“That sounds reasonable,” Azrael said, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He clicked his fingers, and darkness started to flow like tar from beneath his feet, spreading out and coating the surface of the tower. He stood silent for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration under the shadow of his cowl. Fine mesh screens fitted themselves over the windows and doors, stronger and thinner than any steel. “I will watch for now. I have little need of sleep, anyways.”

 

He looked up at the still assembled Epics. “I assume most of you know your duties tomorrow? Nightshade will take care of living quarters, and interrogating the Epics that have been captured. Eclipse, Darkquake and Vires will arrange for more permanent defenses. Twilight and Midnight will help me in beginning to expand our holdings. Is that agreeable?”

 

Brief nods and the odd, “yes, m’lord,” from the more ingratiating Epics showed their assent. Without a word, he turned and walked back out on to the balcony, the screen he had woven parting and reforming behind him.

Edited May 26, 2015 by Aonar Faileas

[Sirce Luckwielder]

Winterspell exited the blood portal to find himself on the Astorian docks. As he stepped off the wharf, he formed an ice disk to land on. With a grunt of exertion after the trying day, he sent himself off towards the Keep, hurtling at speeds that would kill a normal man.

 

Since it’s so late in the night, finding Blindsight is going to be difficult, he thought. For a man with a routine, he could be hard to keep track of.

 

As he neared the palace, inspiration struck him. Who better to find one of my personal than Tag? He almost always keeps to the Minor Epic quarter, so he will be much easier to locate than Blindsight.

 

He veered towards one of the walls, peeled it back, and reformed it behind him as he slid into the room. He looked at the occupants of the room, two of his Epics playing poker sat in the corner: Nightstand and Labyrinth. Before they could get over their surprise, he looked at Nightstand.

 

“Where’s Tag? I need him.”

 

Before Nightstand could answer, Tag rushed into the room.

 

“Right here boss. I saw you a’comin’ towards the Keep all fast-like and got myself here quicker than a sailor gets to a bar on shore leave. What can I do ya’ for?”

 

Winterspell grimaced, but teaching Tag how to speak properly could come later.

 

“I need you to locate Blindsight immediately.”

 

“He’s over yonder way boss.” Tag pointed vaguely off towards the ceiling and the middle of the Keep.

 

“Accompany me immediately. Time is short.” Winterspell gave Tag a glare, sending a crystal clear message.

 

Finally seeing that his commander was in full temper, Tag didn’t say another word, just immediately ran off towards a stairwell, leading Winterspell to his target.

 

After a short sprint through the palace, Tag gaining speed after a short glance back, they reached a sitting room where several Epics lounged. Blindsight was playing chess with Empath and two other Epics, Steel and Magnify sat by watching and betting. With anybody else, Blindsight would soundly destroy his opponent, but Empath had a decent chance when seeing his motives for performing moves. Normally it would be an interesting game to watch, but Winterspell had more important things to take care of.

 

He gave the rundown to the Epics as they stood up from their game to meet him. “Dustdevil and Kinesis have both been hit, and possibly Disruption as well. I want you to come with me to Lucentia’s palace to make sure that everything that can possibly done for them is happening.” Turning from Blindsight, Winterspell gave Empath a look and pointed towards the direction of his personal section of the Keep. With her powers, she didn’t need more than that simple movement to understand his request. She gave a quick nod and immediately sprinted off. She would tell Lightwrought that Winterspell had returned and that she could stop extending the day. She would also inform her that he would be going to Lucentia’s palace for as long as it took to see to his men.

 

Without waiting for a reply from Blindsight, Winterspell tapped the blood on his shirt and called to Mary. Blood extended outward, creating a portal for the Epics. Winterspell stepped in, telling Steel and Magnify to watch the blood. He did not need that spreading around his estate while he was gone. Even being allies with Mary, he still took precautions.

 

Winterspell stepped out of the portal and into a hospital room. Nursing assistants in white dresses, their faces and their hair hidden, walked around the room, attending the injured. Winterspell looked back at where the portal was. Blindsight stepped through holding his breath, obviously perturbed by the blood. Then, to Winterspell’s surprise, Tag stepped through as well. Before he could usher him away, the Epic held up a hand towards him with an intent look on his face, meeting his eyes. He motioned towards the beds. “I can feel that Dustdevil is growing weak, sir.” Winterspell gave the man a glance, but decided that he would need to wait until later before he talked to him.

 

 

Blindsight looked at the monitors, then touched a nurse standing beside one of them. He looked at them through her eyes, understanding each piece of them. Looking back at Dustdevil, he gave him a small salute, then turned towards Winterspell.

 

“Nothing can be done for him. Even a quick death by injection would only save him a few minutes. Let’s see to Kinesis.”

 

Some men would call him callous, but they didn’t understand him. It wasn’t that he didn’t mourn for the man, Dustdevil had been a good commander and treated those in the Keep with respect. However, there were things that were of greater priority at the moment, and grieving now would only make other things worse for the patients that could still be saved.

 

He walked to the table that held Kinesis. Where his legs should have been were only bloody bandages. They looked hastily placed, it appeared that he hadn’t yet been operated on. Interestingly he had been tied down and sedated.

 

Again, Blindsight placed his arm on the skin of a nearby nurse, looking at Kinesis’ screen. Most would think that the nurse seeing the screen could tell exactly what was being displayed, but mere mortals often missed things, even if they could see them. Looking at the screen, he was able to tell just what had been damaged and by the slight irregularities in the heartbeat he could see that a minor artery had not been plugged effectively by the bandaging. He quickly yelled at another nurse to find a surgeon. Within a few minutes one was provided.

 

Blindsight quickly explained his Red Vision to the man. He didn’t look comfortable having an Epic so close to “controlling” him, but he nodded his assent. Nobody understands! Blindsight thought in frustration. They have complete control over their own bodies. I only provide suggestions that they can follow, they do the rest.

 

The surgeon got to work on Kinesis. Cutting the bandages away, he began to operate on the Epic before him. Touching the surgeon’s back and the nurse that assisted the man, Blindsight navigated them through the surgery. As they went along, they grew more confident with his presence. They performed better than they ever could alone. The nurse knew just what implements the surgeon needed and he didn’t even need to look up from his work to grab the tools that she held out. Within just a few minutes, the operation was over, and Kinesis was in the best possible condition he could be in, all things considered. Not only would he live, but he would be recovered enough to be mobile in only a few short hours.

 

The surgeon took off his gloves, and moved to shake hands with Blindsight. After a performance like that one, no wonder his eyes showed awe at his powers. From what he had seen from Lucentia’s palace, the servants didn’t talk more than what was strictly needed. That meant even gratitude or praise was quenched. Even though the man hadn’t washed after the operation, Blindsight took the man’s hand. There was no harm in building connections with people and he could wash as soon as they were done.

 

He quickly washed up beside the surgeon, then turned around. He addressed the surgeon. “Did another Epic named Disruption have wounds? If so, I had best see to him.” With a direct question, the surgeon had every right to answer, whatever the rules of the palace.

 

The surgeon stifled a chuckle. “He came in all right, complaining more than he ought. He doesn’t seem to have anything other than a small scrape on his knee. As soon as we moved him, he healed from one of the lights. Didn’t even dim it for more than a couple seconds.”

 

“Thank you friend,” Blindsight said, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He positively melted at the touch. Blindsight turned towards Winterspell, who was standing above Dustdevil’s bed, expression unreadable. That grieving time that he had put off before was coming out now.

 

 

Winterspell never cried. He never felt the need to. Whether from pain or emotion, tears didn’t come for him. That did not mean that he didn’t feel emotion. He gazed on the body of his former Guard Captain. The man had served loyally for several years. If there was anything that Winterspell valued in a person, it was loyalty and commitment. Dustdevil had been unwavering in both. With him gone, the most logical person to replace him would be Kinesis, but he was now handicapped. Finding someone, anyone, to replace Dustdevil would be hard at any time. He hoped that Kinesis would be up to the task with Blindsight looking over him.

 

Blindsight walked over to him, startling him out of his thoughts.

 

“The operation is over. Kinesis will be up and well in a short time. If we can find a healing Epic somewhere, that will be even better for him.”

 

Winterspell hadn’t really even noticed that Kinesis had been operated on. He gave Blindsight a slight bow, thankful for his efforts. Getting back into his normal mindset, he squared his raw and pushed any emotions he had down. It was time to talk to Disruption. According to what he had seen, the Epic needed a thorough talking to.

 

“What of Disruption, how has he fared?”

 

“I was just about to attend to any needs he has. I believe he is over here.”

 

Blindsight walked towards a sectioned off portion of the room, Winterspell following. Walking in, he immediately noticed that Disruption had no injuries. The second thing he noticed was that Disruption, a twenty-eight year old man, was laying on his bed, occupied by a child’s toy. I suppose if I had to deal with him in a sick ward I would do the same thing. It seems to be working in any event.

 

Upon seeing Winterspell, Disruption quickly placed the toy, a small car, into his pocket, sheepishly hiding it from view.

 

“Report,” Winterspell clipped off, keeping himself terse and collected.

 

“Sir, you’d be right proud of my accomplishments. I got two of their Epics and took a wound for the team.”

 

Seeing a shake of his head from Blindsight, Winterspell chose to ignore the Epic’s mistruths blatantly and continue on.

 

“How did you take out two of their Epics?”

 

“Well, I fired one of my blightning bolts sure and true and hit the flying Epic at two hundred yards. Set him on fire and everything.”

 

Winterspell spoke up. “Would that be the Epic that regenerates? The one that flew away from the scene after returning to life?” Seeing the other Epic’s crestfallen look, he figured that to be the case.

 

“But sir,” he piped up, “I also hit the Epic controlling the vehicles. Scared him off right quick. He didn’t die either, but he retreated thanks to me.”

 

Winterspell snatched onto this last bit. “He retreated?” He received an enthusiastic nodding reply. “In a vehicle?” Another nod. “Did that vehicle happen to have an electric engine.” This time Disruption nodded, but much less enthusiastically, a confused look on his face. “Remind me of Disruption’s powers Blindsight, if you would be so kind.”

 

 

Blindsight smiled. He humor could be good for the soul, and he could see where Winterspell was going with this. Disruption was so inefficient, so plain stupid, that he deserved a bit of a mocking.

 

“Well, he seems to have an extremely accurate lightning power, a healing factor tied to energy, and he can create bubbles of increased time. I believe that is it." He said the last sentence with a smile and a subtle piece of sarcasm.

 

Disruption put his finger in the air. "Wait! I also have my snazzy disruption field!"

 

"Oh yes, he has that as well. A field that warps light and sound, stops electric energy and disrupts radio waves."

 

"Ah," Winterspell said. "A disruption field. You say that this puts a stop to all electrical activity in your area of effect?"

 

Disruption nodded again, the confused look replaced by enthusiasm.

 

 

"Then why under Calamity's bright glory did the Destructors get away?!?" Winterspell yelled at Disruption. For his part, he no longer looked enthusiastic. "If their cars are electric, and you can stop electric machines, doesn't it logically follow that you can stop them?!? You were attacking their machine master for Calamity's sakes!"

 

"I forgot. I had too much to keep track of," the Epic cried, cowering away from Winterspell's onslaught.

 

“You forgot. Of course. That’s obviously reasonable. After all, it isn’t like anybody got hurt.” Winterspell had cooled his anger, replacing it with an icy calmness. Disruption had started to take that as a good thing. He shouldn’t have. “Don’t worry about a thing. It isn’t as if my Guard Captain, a magnate in his field is dead and Kinesis, another stoic, is handicapped. I’m sure that having you use your powers wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not. One. Thing.”

 

With that, he turned from Disruption. “I require your services no longer.”

 

Disruption seemed speechless. Even Blindsight seemed surprised at the outburst.

 

“But, but, but, what?” Disruption stammered, on the verge of tears.

 

“Oh shut your mouth you worthless maggot.”

 

With that, Blindsight came over to Winterspell and began speaking to him quietly.

 

“Sir, I know he messed up, but we still need all the men we can get. From our sources, Blackwave arrived this very night. He will undoubtedly talk to Dragoon in the morning and soon move on Astoria. Things are coming to a head. We can put him in a disciplinary position, the front lines even.”

 

Winterspell paused, collecting his thoughts. He probably couldn’t have saved either of the casualties, even if he had tried. There’s no way to know for certain. If Blindsight thought that he could be of use, then that was that. I’ve had never found him to be wrong. His advice is sound, and if he, one who dislikes the man, will speak up for him, then I’ll listen. Besides, perhaps Disruption will take this to heart and work to make himself better.

 

Winterspell nodded, still showing a slice of regret. He turned to the weeping Epic.

 

“Disruption,” he boomed, “do you feel suitably guilty?”

 

The Epic looked up at him. “Yes. I have no idea what to do now. Is there any way to be reinstated?”

 

Winterspell smiled. Perhaps he had underestimated the man. Even if he was clumsy and childish, he still was a man. He lowered his voice, changing his tone to match that of a forgiving father.

 

“There is. I want you to train and work on your abilities. Hone them. Very soon things will change in Astoria. You can be a part of them, but I want you to show that you are worthy of fighting off the hordes to come. If you can do that, than I will welcome you back with full forgiveness.”

 

As he spoke the last words, he glanced at Blindsight and met his approval. He looked down on Disruption, seeing the hope in his eyes. Yes, this was the right thing to do. Emotion overrode my sense of logic. His loyalty is sound.

 

“I will do everything you ask and more.” Disruption stood, took the toy car out of his pocket, and threw it into a small trash bin by his bed. With a resolute look, he raised his head, then proceeded to walk out into the main hospital.

 

Winterspell looked to Blindsight. “Thank you friend. You saved me from doing something rash and stupid.”

 

 

Blindsight inclined his head, deference on his face. He respected a leader who could recognize his mistakes, fix them, and give credit where it was due. He had never found a man like Winterspell, and he had already resolved he would serve him to the death.

 

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, walking into the hall. “Thank you for taking my advice to heart. Now let’s get home if we can move Kinesis without too much effort.

 

He looked again at the monitors, not needing to touch a nurse this time to read what they said. He was sedated enough that he could make the trip easily with Mary’s blood teleportation.

 

He gave a nod to Winterspell, showing that Kinesis could move if and when Winterspell was ready to leave.

 

He looked at Tag, getting an inclination of the head from him. The man had stayed out of trouble, followed instructions, and kept mostly quiet. Based on what Blindsight gleaned from him as he brushed his arm, the man had only moved from the room to go to the bathroom. He had gotten lost on the way back, but otherwise there was nothing he had done ostensibly to displease their hosts.

 

He was surprised as a hand touched his arm. He turned, seeing the surgeon from before. In his hands was a cloth bag. He handed it to Blindsight, taking a few moments to speak to him.

 

"This holds medicine and instructions on how to take care of your wounded friend over there. A few things need to happen or he will start having infections and that could be disastrous. Thank you for your help today. My name is Davidge Blesken if you ever need me again and my mistress wills it."

 

"Thank you Davidge. Your services will not be forgotten. " He shook hands with the man once more. He then proceeded to oversee the moving of Dustdevil's body towards the portal. Once that was complete he got Kinesis' still unconscious body onto a stretcher, holding it between him and a quiet Disruption.

 

 

Winterspell looked around the room, spotting Mary.

 

"Thank you for your facilities. My men would not have been as well off without your help. Blindsight says that we are fine to leave without causing unnecessary injury, so we will be getting off your hands.”

 

"Don't worry, we don't waste resources, as long as they are of use to us,” Mary replied. “Just be so kind and don't let it become a habit, yes?"

 

“Of course,” Winterspell said, grinding his teeth behind his lips-only smile.

 

With that he walked away, gave simple hand gesture for the Icesteel Epics to proceed through the portal.  He walked up to it, then paused to look behind him.  

 

“Don’t forget that you owe me a new shirt.”

 

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the portal into the Keep.  Things seemed to be the same as they had when he had left. Only Steel and Empath waited, having obediently watched the blood portal. It appeared that Kinesis had already been moved before he had left Lucentia’s palace.  

 

"Thank you for staying to watch the portal,"  Winterspell said as it receded on itself. "I commend you for your vigilance."

 

With a bow, the two Epics left. Winterspell double checked to be sure the portal was really gone, then made his way to his section of the Keep.

 

As he went, he found himself trudging along slowly. It had been an exhausting day, and pushing himself until now he had staved off those feelings. Now they hit with full force. He quickly made some power-assisting armor out of water and moved himself up the stairs. He could afford to be lazy after the day he had just had.

 

He entered the bedroom, finding Lightwrought still up waiting for him. From her drooping posture he could tell that she was as ready as he was for bed. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then moved to change into his night clothes. Even with all of the blood moving around, Mary had left some on his shirt. Taking it, he cast it out of the palace, using the water walls to melt and carry it far off, sending it towards the shore and city.

 

Turning, he slipped into bed. Lightwrought turned stopped emanating light, plunging the room into darkness. Turning to his wife, Winterspell recounted the day's events before they both drifted off to sleep.

 

[Edgedancer]

The new day started without any further trouble, however it didn’t seem like that would last long. Deathgale was studying reports of the Destructors further movement, a ship presumed to be the Tidebreaker and unrests in the area around the column.

 

A call on his mobile distracted him from his work. Looking at the display the call was from his queen.

 

“Milady,” Deathgale greeted her after taking the call.

“Deathgale how is the situation back in Astoria?”

“It has been a rather eventful day but nothing you would have to worry about. Two new High Epics arrived in town and want to offer their service to the town. Some individuals have tried to attack the city but we fought them back without much trouble.” Deathgale didn’t mention the other attacks they anticipated. No reason to worry her with trifles.

“I see… I’ll trust you to keep my city in order.”

“Thank you for your trust, I shall not fail you. How do you fare in Portland?”

“It’s a pathetic cesspool but nothing that presents me with any significant challenge, so I think that I shall be back soon.” Her dissatisfaction with Portland was easy to pick out of her voice. Deathgale still wasn’t quite sure why she choose to head there herself instead of sending someone to fetch Nighthound.

 

Deathgale noticed Bloody Mary rising out of the ground next to him and she eagerly snatched the cellphone away from him. “Lucentia, you’re bringing him back, right?... Thank you, thank you thank you!... Hmm, I hope they don’t break to soon… Oh, I don’t mind if he eats out a bit…” Deathgale listened to Mary’s side of the conversation. Her excitement at the prospect of Nighthound returning was disturbingly apparent.

                                                                

 

After their conversation with Lucentia ended Deathgale set preparations in place for the interview. He wasn’t about to let two unknown Epics into the palace, as such he located the meeting in an establishment not far away from it.

 

The Shining Diamond is a high class restaurant designed to give its customers privacy for important meetings. It was also one of the few places that Lucentia deemed worthy her time, giving it not only a large amount of prestige but also over time has caused Lucentia to decorate the building’s inside with diamond structures, with the offical owner’s consent towards the honor being so natural that asking him for it wasn’t even necessary.

 

The interview was to take place in a large room in back, reserved for royal matters and furnished accordingly. Both Bioterror and Brightdeath had been summoned and should already have arrived.

 

Deathgale headed straight for the room, servants opening the door for him as he came closer.

“Welcome to Astoria. I’ve been told by the Metal that you intend to serve us.” He said as he entered.

[the winter system]

 

Brightdeath looked across the city. She was standing on a platform hovering in the air made of light. The view was totally worth it. 

 

It is a beautiful city. Brightdeath smiled. The diamond palace was striking in comparison to the sky. Some kind of atmosphere manipulator made it very pretty. 

 

Shouldn't I be going to the Shining Diamond around now? Brightdeath thought. First, she built up walls to keep someone from seeing. Then, she switched her shirt into a dress. It was simple, now. Very easy. The dress fell down to the ground. Her leggings were still on beneath her dress. 

 

Brightdeath dismissed the room she built up around her and let herself fall. 

 

It was still terrifying. 

Years of stunts like this had made the terror become manageable. 

 

"Manageable" meaning "slightly less terrifying." 

Brightdeath smiled as she was about to hit the ground...

 

Flash! 

 

Brightdeath vanished, appearing in the cafe. She'd set that to her auto-teleport location the other day. Brightdeath vanished from there in a flash of light before anyone could react. 

 

Then, she appeared in the restaurant. It was pretty. Lots of diamonds. Brightdeath's dress flashed off on the diamonds. She loved how diamonds reacted to her light. She was glad she came here. Brightdeath had teleported into the room where she had been told the interview would take place.

 

Brightdeath was still breathing heavily as she sat down. 

 

Suddenly, the door was opened. Brightdeath sucked in a deep breath. 

 

“Welcome to Astoria. I’ve been told by the Metal that you intend to serve us.” A man walked in through the door. He had blond hair and wore black, except for a white shirt underneath a black waistcoat. Brightdeath nodded.

 

"Yes, I do indeed, sir. I am Brightdeath." Brightdeath responded.  

Edited June 5, 2015 by Winter Cloud

[Voidus]

Bioterror waited in the room, a fancy affair, full of lavish furnishings and fine foods for the waiting Epic to enjoy. Taking a slice of cheese to enjoy with his wine, Bioterror swirled his glass around. He had no idea what to look for but a few of his friends had been into the whole wine and cheese thing before Calamity and that's what they'd always done.

Looking down at his chest, Bioterror undid the top few buttons. He'd arrived quite early, growing bored of having nothing to do and not really requiring sleep anymore had left him increasingly bored, which meant he was increasingly likely to murder some people and that was probably not the best decision. So he'd arrived early. And now he had time to spare.

Taking a seat he separated his skin along with his shirt, revealing his ribs that lay beneath. Using the nutrients from the food he'd been gorging on he formed new calcium deposits along his ribs, growing several small lumps of extra bone along them that steadily grew into small spikes.

Could be useful if someone tries to punch me I guess but that's probably going to get pretty uncomfortable.

Reabsorbing the spikes Bioterror instead simply increased his ribs density, over the years since Calamity he'd optimized every part of his anatomy as best he was able but he was always seeking ways to improve.

A flash of light announced the arrival of the girl from yesterday, his fellow interviewee as it were. She seemed to be more interested in looking at the fancy surroundings than looking at Bioterrors exposed ribcage, his fingers gently prodding the bones to check them.

About to greet her, Bioterror was interrupted by another arrival, through the door this time.

 

“Welcome to Astoria. I’ve been told by the Metal that you intend to serve us.”

 

"Bioterror" Bioterror said, adding his introductions to Brightdeaths. "Sorry about the mess." Withdrawing his fingers he allowed his skin to close over before re-buttoning his shirt.

[Edgedancer]

Both Epics responded immediately to Deathgale. Good, at least they are punctual.

 

He surveyed both Epics. First was the woman, Brightdeath. She wore a glowing dress, assumingly made out of the solid light the Metal mentioned. The fines of the fabric indicated precision and it played well off the diamonds. They should be able to use that material for quite an effect. Together with the increase in mobility through her teleportation they should be able to put her to good use.

 

However, she was breathing very heavily. Either she was so bad with being under pressure that waiting for him was enough to strain her nerves or she did something rather stressful right before her interview. Neither of those options spoke well of her stability. 

  

The other one was examining his own ribcage. A mess as he said himself. Seeing how readily he exposed him he didn’t seem like someone that should be exposed to the public more than necessary. A lack of squeamishness on the other hand is a trait well suited for minions working behind the scene.

 

Not a bad catch those two. They are also a pretty big contrast to each other. All that was left was to confirm their personalities. The problematic part about High Epics was that getting rid of them, should they think to highly of themselves, could turn out to be more problematic than is normally the case. At least one of them was already infected.

 

Deathgale responded to them with a nod and seated himself at the table with the other three. “An excellent choice, I think we can all agree. Now, don’t feel reserved to order something from the servants, we have enough luxury to spare. Naturally, those luxuries come from our queen and we serve her for it. I’m sure that we can find something for you in this town but obedience to Lucentia is paramount. You two are aware of this, yes?”   

[Sirce Luckwielder]

Arnold Sfeer woke up feeling that his brain had been replaced by a jackhammer. The night before he had been paid. As usual that had meant a few too many at the local bar. He remembered stumbling home and getting into his house after several fumbling attempts to get his key in the lock. After that he hadn't even been able to get to his bed before he had crashed, falling alseep on a living room armchair.

As he stumbled up, he wondered where the armchair had gone. He could see the depressions in the floor, but the blasted thing had disappeared.

I must have been more loaded than normal last night.

He walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall, the last place his armchair had wound up after a night on the town. His smile from remembering that night vanished as he walked by his bedroom, the door just before the bathroom. Where his bed should have been was a blank space. Not only that, but the whole room was empty. Everything had vanished!

Frantically he began running around his house. Everything was gone. His sterio from high school, his thirty inch plasma TV, even his refregerator! Looking outside of the window (even the curtains had disappeared) he noticed that his motorcycle was missing as well.

"What in Calamity is going on!" he spouted, running into a wall in his fury.

He exited the house, running through where a door should have graced his porch. He noticed that his neighbor Jonny's Nissan was missing. He knew Jonny, and the man would be working off a hangover as bad as his own for at least another hour. Running to the door, he looked through the window, seeing a sight similar to his own home.

Taking a glance around the neighborhood, at least three other houses seemed to be in similar conditions, one down the street had mysteriously disappeared entirely. He could see the family sitting on the porch, the husband consolling a crying woman who clutched a young child.

"Confound it all!" he yelled to the heavens and the red star that presided over them.

 

 

Lockvault settled into a rolly chair, examining his new computer. From here he could check all of the security cameras that he had "liberated." They surrounded the base, which felt much more like a home now that it had been furbished with some beds and many items that he and the Adventurer had "found."

He had grabbed a couple of extra beds and a few other items to keep in Storage. If he had to leave in a hurry he didn't want to relive the aches of the wild without some forms of comfort.

 

[Voidus]

Bioterror felt a little bit like he imagined a fish felt as it was brought to market, carefully weighed, just moments before it would be gutted and served.

The Epic examined him with careful eyes, measuring his worth and usefulness to the city before joining them at the table.

“An excellent choice, I think we can all agree. Now, don’t feel reserved to order something from the servants, we have enough luxury to spare. Naturally, those luxuries come from our queen and we serve her for it. I’m sure that we can find something for you in this town but obedience to Lucentia is paramount. You two are aware of this, yes?”

 

I wonder if anyone ever says no to that question? Bioterror idly wondered before nodding his head.

"Of course, I just want to have servants who are still alive at the end of the day because I don't need to keep killing them to show them their place. If Lucentia and Astoria can oblige me then I'll do whatever's needed."

 

The Adventurer looked over Lockvaults shoulder, watching the security feeds of the area around the base. Well it seemed the basics were secured for now.

They had a base, food, water and now security. But something still felt like it was missing. Some stat felt like it was going ignored.

One of the feeds showed a woman walking down the street nearby to the base, holding a handbag clutched closely to her chest and caster her eyes around furtively.

Nice, stealing must raise the NPC paranoia levels.

Struck by a sudden piece of inspiration, The Adventurer grabbed one of the pistols strewn around the base and shifted him up, shooting a quick "Back soon" in Lockvaults direction.

Appearing in a dark alley nearby, the Adventurer tracked the NPC movement on his minimap, he quickly found the woman from earlier, following closely behind her he quickly snagged a flower from a nearby garden, a garden with a giant hole in the middle where a house used to be.

Finally catching up to the furtive woman he stepped in front of her, wordlessly presenting the flower to her which had begun to glow with a soft pink light.

Looking confused the woman reached out to take the flower before noticing the glow, throwing her handbag at him she turned around to flee the other way.

Brushing her back with his fingers, the Adventurer shifted himself through her and into her path, catching the fleeing woman as she collided with him.

"You're very attractive" He told her, their faces close together as he stared seriously into her eyes and leant in-
The woman screamed.

"What the hell?" He said, dropping her suddenly and turning around. "What kind of game doesn't have any romance mechanics?"

Shifting his way back into the base he collapsed into a nearby armchair.

"Ah well, I'll work it out sooner or later, maybe it's a player-player thing..."
 

[Blackhoof]

 

Hellfire awoke the next morning, his left armpit stabbing him with pain whenever he moved. The Destructors had had some medical supplies with them, thankfully, and had sewed his wound shut and put his arm in a rudimentary sling. Also fortunate was the shallowness of the penetration- no major organs were damaged, although he wouldn't be able to use his arm properly for a while. That blasted, cursed water Epic!

 

Hellfire greeted the Destructors, and they sat down to plan their next move. As stated the previous night, they wanted to gather some new commandos before meeting with an "information broker" who could help them with their revenge strike against Astoria. 

 

"I don't trust this "broker" guy." Hellfire announced to the group, "I have someone else in mind to help us, in case your broker falls through. I'll be back here in an hour or so." Hellfire smiled, and without another word, he got up, walked onto the balcony, and flew off. 

Without the ability to use his left arm, his flight was somewhat slower and much less graceful than normal, but it worked. Skirting Astoria by a wide margin, he eventually came back to the spot he was pretty sure he had arrived at, where Valve should be keeping watch for him. Reliable as ever, within a minute a large portal had opened nearby, and Hellfire strolled through.

 

"My lord, what on earth happened to you!" Valve gasped, her insincerity clear to everyone. Hellfire rolled his eyes, "I had a run-in with some poncy water Epic. The bugger shanked me. I have joined up with some American tread-heads to destroy the city, so I need you to portal me to this city a bit north of Astoria, where they are waiting for me. Where is Banger? I need him." Valve nodded, and started opening portals, poking her head through each. Hellfire knew that she was checking every place Banarang-Bamal was likely to be. The fourth portal succeeded, and she widened it so that Banarang could come through. Tall, muscular, dark-skinned and bearing a long, salt-and-pepper beard, Banarang was an imposing figure to most. His bare, callused feet were somehow not burning or being cut apart by the rough surface.

 

The Aborigine lifted his dark, implacable eyes to meet Hellfire's, the fire Epic felt a thrill of fear once more. He had managed to beat Banarang once before, securing dominance over Uluru. But not by much. Banarang was a powerful earth Epic, and turned to a sort of invulnerable stone when attacked. Hellfire had managed to get him high into the air, and threatened to leave him there forever if he didn't swear allegiance to him. Stubborn and proud as his element, Banarang had stayed there for a straight week before acquiescing. 

 

Hellfire suppressed his fear and smirked, "Hey Banger, I got a job for you. Ha, bet that isn't something you people hear much." Banarang did not react at all to the casual racism, merely replying, "What do you wish me to do? I was busy making sure that the next shipment of food arrives from Alice Springs-"

"Yeah yeah, blah blah blah, listen. You are coming with me, and we are going to destroy a city."

The earth Epic's face barely changed, but he betrayed a flicker of excitement at the prospect. More emotion than he usually showed. "I will gladly join you, of course. But how does destroying some American city help us? Have you not secured your revenge against the attackers?"

"No you idiot, I did not-"

"So you failed?"

Hellfire's eyes narrowed, and his voice became terse. "No, I did not fail. Failure would be giving up, and I have no intention of stopping until Astoria is nothing but dust and rubble and ash! Now are you coming or not, you lazy-"

"Of course, I will assist you. It is clear that you need the aid." With that, Banarang stepped through the portal that Valve had just opened.

 

Hellfire growled under his breath, muttering racist remarks as he followed the earth Epic back onto American soil.

[Sirce Luckwielder]

Lockvault watched the Adventurer's fiasco over the camera feed.  Bursting with laughter as he returned, Lockvault walked away from the Epic, who crashed into an armchair behind him.

 

He went to the back of the base, where he had installed all of the equipment to make this room a gun range. With the space restrictions of being underground it was only seventy-five feet or so, but worked in any case. Targets had already been placed on the wall earlier. From Storage he brought out safety glasses and ear mufflers, placing them directly onto him.  He also pulled out a handgun.  Since the range was so small, a bigger rifle wouldn't really test his skills.  He already had the gun loaded, so without much ado, he began firing at the target, sidestepping and moving to make the routine harder.  

 

As each round left the chamber, he placed them back in Storage, keeping them for a time that he would need them.  With his skills, he never needed to waste ammunition when he was practicing.  From over the years he had practiced at least once a day, sometimes as long as an hour.  Over the years since he had become an Epic, he had several ten thousand rounds stashed up. 

 

After the clip was empty, he looked back on his Memory, judging the trajectory of the bullets and their respective spins before he had taken them out of reality.  With this he was able to see where they would have hit on the target, giving him practice without the expense of ammunition. 

 

He repeated the routine a few more times, then placed everything back in Storage.  As he went back into the main part of the base, he closed the door that had been dampened to keep sound from invading the rest of the base.

 

Looking for the Adventurer, he saw him gazing hungrily at the camera feeds, the objects of interest appearing to be vanillas.  After his earlier attempt, this could not be good in the slightest.  Hoping to stop the situation before it became one, Lockvault spoke up.

 

"It seems like we have been here long enough, how about we go look for some quests, or something?"