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What Happened Outside Of Canon


TwiLyghtSansSparkles

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Mistwraith floated as the mist above the square. She felt... confused. Something really odd was going on in the Dalles.

 

Something always was. Especially since she'd become an Epic.

 

But sparks, this was a little too odd for Mistwraith's tastes. She'd thought the world had begun to make sense!

Then the insane Epic came to the Dalles.

On a cow. 

 

Who rides sparking cows? Mistwraith thought, annoyed. I can do better than a cow. Mistwraith formed into a misty cow and flew down to the ground. See? I'm a cow made out of mist. 

 

Wait.

What was she doing? 

 

Being a cow. The response seemed obvious to Mistwraith. Cows. Totally awesome. 

 

The Epic on a cow - a lame, not misty cow - was shooting people. 

Shooting people. Mistwraith could shoot people. She could shoot people - as a cow. Made out of mist. She opened the cow's mouth and made a misty gun come out of her mouth. Then she shot the bullets of mist around. 

 

Then there was this man- with a coke. Coke. Hm. I could be a coke. I'm better than a coke. I could be a mist-cow-gun-coke. She made a coke bottle protrude out of the misty cow's back.

 

What am I doing? She thought. 

 

The answer came back to her.

 

Being a mist-cow-gun-coke.

 

Mistwraith was awesome. 

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The world was coming to an end. Super-powered psychopaths ruled the country. The state was almost in ruins.

 

And Bob's Cafe was hosting Amateur Poetry Hour.

 

Timelock stood towards the back of the restaurant, lurking in the shadows as a youth dressed in black expounded the virtues of soy sauce.

 

There were a fair amount of people here tonight. Astoria was in the grasp of a dictatorial Epic obsessed with diamonds, but the people tried to live as well as they could. There were several working public services, including the hotel Timelock had visited earlier and the cafe where he now stood.

 

Much snapping ensued as the young man took his exit, walking offstage as a woman in her mid-twenties approached the mic.

 

There once was a Hobbit in Bag End...

 

Timelock rolled his eyes and walked around the tables. There was a salad bar somewhere... ah, yes. There it was. Retrieving a plate and piling lettuce atop it, he walked back to his corner and tried to endure the so-called rhymes of a college student.

 

The emcee stood up and walked to the front of the platform. "We thank tonight's performers for their beautiful verse. Is there anyone else who would like to come up?"

 

Timelock gave a snort of derision and set aside his salad. Is there? Unbuttoning his coat, he strode up to the stage, clearing his throat. Sidestepping the stammering emcee, he casually remarked:

 

I suppose

That I am predisposed

To loathe all of you puny little humans.

I could say

I could talk all day

A propos de la façon dont vous êtes tous terribles poètes.

 

Timelock's voice grew in intensity as he leaned forwards.

 

Yes, it is true

I hate all of you

And your pathetic little verses.

But don't feel too bad

It's even worse when you're sad

Sed qui sollicitudo? Non mihi. Actu, suus 'optimus!

 

At this point the audience was staring at him in what appeared to be a mix of horror and appreciation.

 

So it's here I conclude

I hope you're all in the mood

For more poetry egregious.

Good night to you all

I now go to sprawl

Distruzione in questo paese.

 

Timelock spun and walked away from the mic, coattails flaring dramatically behind him.

 

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TAKE COMFORT IN THESE WORDS: This ship will never be explored in canon. 

 

 

Sam Trattner expected a tight embrace the second she walked through the door. She didn't expect an empty front landing with voices from the kitchen. 

 

"Mom, I'm home!" 

 

The voices stopped momentarily, then picked up in an excited chatter. She recognized her mother's, but the second voice was….male? ​Who the hell—it's usually one of Mom's friends who's over, she hasn't had a guy here since….

 

"Sam? Oh, thank God!" 

 

Sam thought the male voice said "Yes, thank him indeed," but she was already dropping the bag full of bobbleheads Funtimes had insisted she bring, hurrying through the entryway and into the kitchen where her mother waited while a man wrapped his arms protectively around her shoulders. 

 

A bearded, spectacled man in a long trench coat. 

 

Sam froze. "Mom. Who is that?" 

 

"Oh, Sam, don't be rude." She patted his hand fondly. "This is your new stepfather." 

 

"But who is he?" An awful picture was beginning to take shape in Sam's mind. Houston. Albuquerque. Her beloved San Diego, melted and burned by a man in a trench coat and spectacles. 

 

The man—her stepfather, apparently—extended a hand. "Obliteration. But you may call me Pappy." 

 

Sam backed away slowly. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. "I thought you weren't getting remarried." 

 

"I wasn't planning on it, no." Elizabeth Trattner still wore that stupid, blissful smile. "But you were gone and I was so lonely that—" 

 

"I was gone for four days!" 

 

"And they were a very lonely four days." 

 

"Apparently!" 

 

"Sam, there's no need to shout. Just shake his hand and say hello." 

 

She forced herself to wrap her fingers around two of his. Would he kill her? Suck the heat from her skin and leave her dead on the floor? Or would he burn her up and quote some Bible verse about rude stepdaughters ruining some angel's plans to marry a cupcake maker? 

 

"I'm sorry, dear," her mother said, looking up at Obliteration—he was not Pappy, she would never ever in a million years call him Pappy—with a simpering look. "She's usually not like this." 

 

"Don't worry," he said with a grin, then leaned in close. "I've been considering Song of Songs chapter four, verse five." 

 

Elizabeth giggled. 

 

No. No no no no no. Her mother was not allowed to giggle. Funtimes was allowed, but she was a moron. Her mother was not allowed to do something a moron did, especially not with some psychotic fire Epic whispering Bible verses in her ear. 

 

Bible. Threats. Those two words entwined themselves in her mind. She had no idea what Song of Songs chapter four said, but it had to be a threat. Yes. Obliteration had married her mother—how did he even do that, with the legal system pretty much dead and judges killed or run out of town years ago?—and had used some freaky hidden power to make her idiotic and giggly. So giggly that he could whisper a threat in her ear and she'd take it for flirting. 

 

There was a Bible in Sam's room, left there in hopes she'd crack it open. 

 

Sam dashed for her bedroom. 

 

She found the Bible buried under a pile of clothes, snatched it up, and flicked through the pages with trembling fingers. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that proving a verse to be a threat wouldn't do much good, but she clung to that hope nonetheless. Okay, okay, Psalms—Proverbs—Song of Songs! Chapter one, three—four! She skimmed down to where a tiny 5 hovered beside the text, read the verse and—

 

Her cheeks flamed. 

 

She slammed the Bible closed in horror. 

 

Song of Songs chapter four verse five wasn't a threat. 

 

It was so much worse.

 

Sam left the Bible on the floor, went to her window and threw it open. A desperate, stupid plan took shape in her mind. She didn't spare a thought for any of that. Obliteration was whispering sexy Bible verses to her mother. 

 

This called for drastic action. 

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  • 4 weeks later...

“In position!”

 

Vondra bellowed at the living corn kernels that appeared in the Dalles a rather short time ago. Whatever they were they seemed to be more trustworthy than the average Epic, not an impressive feat but hard to come by nowadays, what they did lack however was discipline.  

 

Before him they stood in a pitiful line, barely straight, elbows all over the place and randomly showing each other their tongues. They would truly need much more worked before they were in any shape to be called soldiers but once that moment arrived, well at least Dewhickey wouldn’t be able to complain about them anymore.

 

Then their training got interrupted as the inevitable happen. In a flash of light ceramic shattered all over the floor. There stood Obliteration, holding a shopping bag and by the same strange twist of fate that brought him the Minions Vondra didn’t need to evacuate the city.

 

Losing any sliver of discipline they may have had at the sight of him the Minions swarmed around him, using his arms as if he was a jungle bar. Those Minions that couldn’t find a part of him to hang on pillaged his shopping bag, pulling out different cuts of meat and sausages and then started to run around the room, holding them high over their heads and mimicking siren sounds. Through all of this Obliteration somehow looked as if they were imparting profound knowledge upon him.

 

“Jim,” Vondra greeted Obliteration.

“Ah, my shepherd, I have bought the meat,“ Obliteration replied. Something was very wrong with the world that this mass murdering monster showed him more respect than Deathwish ever would but he could hardly complain. Actually it almost seemed as if he revered him as some kind of holy figure. The fact that he wanted to grill together with him and the Minions however, still left him baffled.

“Good work, I… suppose I should ready the grill.”

“Such shall not be necessary, my shepherd.”

 

And thus Obliteration began to strip.

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"What do you think you're doing?" 

 

That question, when barked or shouted, had brought Vondra success in dealing with City Guard Epics. Deathwish and Arsenal rolled their eyes, Edgerunner snapped to attention with a smirk and a mock salute, Florist blinked and stared. 

 

Obliteration merely looked bemused. 

 

"I thought it was obvious, dear shepherd." 

 

Vondra winced as a sudden headache formed behind his eyes. "All right, let me rephrase that: Why are you taking off your shirt, and why must you do it here?" 

 

Obliteration folded his shirt neatly and set it on the ground, then lay flat on his back. The Minions cheered. 

 

Vondra's instincts kicked in as a cold wave of terror consumed him. 

 

Houston. 

 

Albuquerque. 

 

San Diego. 

 

Now The Dalles. 

 

He drew his pistol and aimed for the Epic's heart….

 

….as a little yellow Minion covered it with a sirloin. About eight ounces, rubbed with spices. 

 

And it sizzled. 

 

Vondra could only stare. Blinking. Not thinking. Not processing. Just absorbing the sight of a muscular, weatherbeaten fire Epic grilling cuts of steak on his bare chest. 

 

"I—is this sanitary?" 

 

Obliteration smiled, arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed. "I thought you'd be more concerned with how you prefer yours cooked." 

 

The headache spread. "I like mine on a grill, thanks." 

 

A Minion turned to him and spouted gibberish, causing Obliteration to chuckle but say nothing. 

 

"You're not going to translate?" 

 

He smiled again, opening one eye as the Minion placed a pineapple ring over his belly button. "Words of wisdom are best left be." 

 

Vondra turned away, futilely rubbing his temples. 

 

This would have been much less difficult, he thought, ​if Obliteration had just tried to kill us. 

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  • 3 months later...

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And then Nighthound died.

Edited by Winter Cloud
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  • 1 month later...

The Chase Chase

 

It had been a normal day in Corvallis. Or at least as normal as things got, here in Corvallis. It was like there was some kind of group of demented monsters who sat around trying to throw the entire state of Oregon into chaos. 

 

Nah. 
 

That was ridiculous. 

 

Until Chase saw the vanilla who was operating the last operational Chase bank. 

 

"Hey you!" Chase called as she stepped into the Chase Bank. Chase C., whose last name was Chase, froze immediately. "Chase Chase!" 

 

"Chase! It is you..." Chase Chase backed up. She was a little intimidated. She better chase away his fear before this chat. "Uh, nice seeing you after all these years." 

 

"I AM HERE FOR THE ONE WHO CALLS HERSELF CHASE. I AM THE ONE AND ONLY CHASE IN THIS TOWN." 

 

Sparking Calamity. Chase cursed. 

 

"I'm going to kill you, Chase Chase. Did you bring True Chase to town? You know he hates me." 

 

"He hates me too! He hates everyone named Chase!" 

 

"I'm named Chase too!" Squeeled someone else in the Chase bank. "I'm scared." 

 

"Me three... or is it four?" Suddenly everyone was named Chase. "I think Rainmaker's real name is Chase too." 

"I'll Chase you all outa town!" Chase yelled as a giant fist hit the Chase bank. She ran after Chase Chase and was about to Cut her tag when suddenly everyone in the streets was confused. 

 

"I'm Chase! Are you here for me?" 

 

"Chase!" 

 

"Chase!" 

 

"Um, my name isn't Chase," said someone.  

 

"Chase him away!" Yelled yet another Chase. He was chased out of town, while Chase was still chasing after Chase Chase while being chased by True Chase after leaving a Chase bank. 

 

This day has gotten chaotic. Or do I mean- 

Chaseotic. 

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And then Nighthound died.

Dangit, I was going to come onto this thread and make that joke and exit awesomely :ph34r:B)-_-

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Dangit, I was going to come onto this thread and make that joke and exit awesomely :ph34r:B)-_-

 

 

The necromancer whipped his head around, face a mixture of shock and anger. "What was that?" he demanded to no one in particular.

 

Aldo straightened his top hat, fixing his face with a bemused look. "I have no idea, Emperor. What is it you thought you heard?"

 

The face of Lightwards showed him to be slightly unsure of himself, but his angry determination was back in a flash. "It was like a voice. A voice out of thin air. It said something about making a joke on a 'thread', and then... then I saw a flash of random images. The face of a man in a ninja mask. A yellow man wearing sunglasses. A man seeming put out, his exuberance wasted."

 

Ah. So the Emperor of Light has discovered the Fourth Wall. Poor chap.

 

"Look into this light," Aldo offered sympathetically, holding up a small flashing device.

 

"What are you talking about?" Lightwards snapped. "We must find this 'ScottLeft' person and extract all the information we can from him. He must be an Epic of great power, and--"

 

The device flashed red light into Lightwards' face, and the necromancer seemed merely confused once more.

 

Aldo cleared his throat. "I believe you were saying something about finding Backtrack, your majesty."

 

Lightwards nodded, head still spinning. "Yes... I believe I was..."

 

 

Another Fourth Wall crisis averted. Another Epic spared the travesty of knowing the truth of their existence. Aldo smiled to himself, shrunk the flashing memory device and placed it back in his front pocket, and went off in search of the panicky retrocog. It simply wouldn't do for the poor man to look back in time to before the forum had been created... again.

Edited by Kobold King
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Lucy Lockser looked at her side to her companions. They'd all discovered the secrets of Calamity, eventually breaking his dreadful hold over them, freeing their minds once more.

Scribbler, Docter Funtimes, Edgerunner and Voidgaze along with Sunburst and Darkrose had all succeeded in becoming Redeemed Epics.

They had been fighting a war against the other Epics, in both Portland and the Dalles and they had finally cornered the leader of the Empire of light.

He had been killed many times in past skirmishes but now they had tracked him down to his headquarters. He would not run any more.

A series of bright, sparkly explosions lit the room as a dozen statues were teleported in by their latest redeemed ally.

"Thank you Shiny." Scribbler said as the Epic brought in the last of the new items she'd been working on with Funtimes. "I promise you we'll journey with you to rescue that cousin of yours as soon as we've cleaned up here. Corpsemaker is stuck in a giant living barbie castle, bereft of his powers, Altermind is being forced to enrol in a new Highschool where everyone knows his weakness, Deathwish is now being carefully monitored as he maintains a steady diet of coke and Arsenal has fled to Alaska. We're so close."

She glared along with her companions at the last of the great despots who had plunged Portland into war.

"Lightwards the Green." Scribbler started.

"Leprechaun king we decided." Darkrose piped in, along with a nodding and smiling Sunburst.

Scribbler added a smile of her own, still reveling in her ability to take joys out of jokes like that again.

"Lightwards, king of the Leprechauns, you have wreaked untold horrors on this city. You unleashed Nighthound upon unsuspecting citizens, let your dinosaurs roam free, you hurt many of those assembled here personally. For these crimes you will pay. The good Doctor Funtimes and I whipped up something a little special for you, after some ideas brought up by the one you know as the Traveler. "

The girl Epic strode up to one of the covered statues before whipping off the velvet cover, revealing a stone angel underneath, its eyes staring ominously ahead and somehow managing to look almost alive. The other Redeemed women each strode over to a statue, unveiling more angels. All of them looking directly at Lightwards.

"Now I don't do particularly well with making living things that can obey orders. But my friend Doctor Funtimes it turns out can do some really amazing things with a circuit board and some programming."

She strode around Lightwards as he knelt on the floor, casting frightened glances at the statues surrounding him.

"Add a little piece of writing on each to allow them freedom of movement and greatly enhanced speed and we have a small army of these 'weeping Angels'. Now the interesting thing about them is they won't harm you at all while you're looking at them. They're... what was the term he used again?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully for a few seconds before Voidgaze chimed in.

"Quantum-locked I think it was."

"Ah yes, thanks, they're quantum locked. So as long as you watch them they can't move at all, they can't run towards you with their hands outstretched, reaching for you..."

Lightwards quivered on the ground.

"So that is your punishment for now, oh leprechaun king. We'll be leaving these beauties to watch you for now. Just remember... don't blink."

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A trio of dark figures prowled the night, their evil intentions practically radiating from their bodies and warning all nearby not to interfere with them.

The trio spotted a lone girl walking along a darkened street and sped up, one vanished entirely, appearing several feet in front before vanishing again. The vanishing figure caught up to the girl first, grabbing her roughly by one arm.

The girl turned around to slap him but her other hand was quickly caught as well.

"Ooh, looks like we got a feisty one." Timeport said as Electro and Quota caught up. He pinned the girls arms to her side as all three men began leering at her.

"Oh you don't know the half of it Timeport." The girl replied.

The three male Epics looked at each other in confusion for a moment before suddenly stiffening and guarding themselves as another figure flew in from the the darkness that surrounded them.

"So you caught them easily enough Lucy?" Edgerunner asked as she landed on the street.

"Sure did, Emma. Kind of pathetic how easy it was." Scribbler replied.

The Epic holding her whirled her around to face him, anger evident in his eyes but before he could do anything his hand was suddenly forced away from her, a faint glowing outline could be made on her wrist, revealing a tattoo with the word 'repulse'.

"Now now." Scribbler said, waggling a finger at the bemused trio of Epics. "No getting handsy. You three have already terrorised enough people with your trifecta, you really don't want to be adding more on top of that."

The three Epics had finally recovered from the confusion of the sudden reversal of their plans and donned looks of smug superiority.

"Now listen here, we're not scared of some chick." Timeport replied. "And if you know who we are then I hope you're prepared to give us some fun."

One of the other two figures pointed towards the two girls, a beam of electric energy shooting forth towards both girls' legs. Only to be suddenly blocked as a white strip of cloth appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

Two more female figures had suddenly appeared, one dressed in pure white while the other in a prink so loud it hurt to look at.

"Sorry we're late." Doctor funtimes said with a giggle as Voidgaze retracted her white strip of cloth, which still appeared unharmed. "Blueberry had to say goodbye to her boyfriend and they were sooo cute together and then I had to make her a totally new dress out of this insulating material and I wanted to make it pink so it would match me and Sammy and Revvie. But then she said it has to be white but that's ok cause she's still super cute in white."

When they'd first met Scribbler had wondered if Funtimes' enthusiasm was some bizarre new manifestation of Calamity's corruption but even after she'd joined them as a redeemed Epic she'd held onto her joyful nature and thousand-mile-an-hour speech.

"Rita? If you please?" Lucy Lockser asked.

The white-clothed figure nodded with a smile and more cloth leapt from her, wrapping itself around Electro.

"He can still do that brain thing." Darkrose said as she and Sunburst finally arrived and completed the party.

"Should I make tinfoil hats?" Funtimes asked, already searching around for materials though she'd no doubt make them in her own... unique style.

"Don't worry about that Funtimes." Lucy said "If anyone notices their brain going fuzzy just say and we'll blow off one of his feet or something."

"Okie dokie lokie."

Lucy turned to the remaining two Epics only to find one was missing. The teleporter, Timeport.

Whirling she noticed him behind their group, Battleaxe already raised.

And then suddenly it was a giant stuffed bear instead.

Funtimes to the rescue again it seemed.

Timeport threw the bear to the side and reached out with one hand, seemingly planning on teleporting into her.

She actualized the tattoo she'd placed on him when he'd grabbed her.

The word 'water' shone brightly from his chest before he was suddenly engulfed in a bubble of clear liquid. His eyes immediately widened, terrified.

"Yeah. We knew about that." Lucy replied nonchalantly before reaching into the water and punching him in the face, his wide eyes closing as he lost consciousness.

She turned towards quota, the other redeemed ladies forming up on either side of her as they stared down the final member of the Trifecta.

Edited by Voidus
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63d65947-a446-4748-99ce-631b4f08bc7e_zps

 

I was thirteen years old when the first Epics appeared.

Since that time, I've lived an eternity.

Or multiple, depending on how you wish to count it.

You see, I was one of the first. For the longest time, I didn't realize it. You must understand, I am not the most powerful of Epics. I never had a Rending; I've never directly harmed anyone, actually.

That is soon to change.


This all began on a fateful day in July, five years ago. I was on my own; my parents had had the misfortune of being in town when Accord was in a mood. He did not keep as strict a watch over Peace in those days, and there were many who slipped through the cracks. I was one such as those.

For a while, the best I could do was scavenge food from the weekly markets. It wasn't much, but I didn’t starve. The threat of death was constant. Without Accord's blessing, any Epic, hell, any angry shopkeeper could kill you without repercussion.

Living like that, no one survived, not really. The best you could do was hope you died tomorrow, or next week, or next month; just so long as it wasn't today. It always caught up to you, though. Death, that is. In many ways, it was and is the most constant reality to life, since Calamity’s rise.


It didn’t take long for Death to catch me. Looking back, perhaps I wasn’t running very quickly. I was doing my usual rounds when a fellow scavenger tried to knife me, kill me for what little half-rotten fruit I’d been able to find. He looked thin enough I probably would’ve shared with him, if he’d asked.

Things slowed, as they often do when adrenaline comes in to play. I could see the knife coming, see that I wouldn’t have time to react, but I was calmer than I had any right to be. I do not think I would’ve minded dying, had that been my time. Something peculiar happened, however. The world kept slowing, and then just… stopped.

That was the beginning of my first eternity.  

I was surprised, confused, at first. Even a little scared. As time went on, I began to understand. An eternity is a very long time to think, after all. I was an Epic, one of those impossible persons that defied physics, and who now ruled this world.

And I could stop time.

I spent untold stretches of time experimenting, learning the limits of this power in my isolation. I could move, easily, but interacting with the waking world seems impossible. Everything was insubstantial, just out of reach. Its greatest use, however, seemed to be mere observation. I could think, and plan, observe and deduce in peace, with no constraints upon time; although I have no way of measuring it, I believe it took me no more than a few days’ worth of time to determine how to escape my current situation without injury.


Figuring out how to restart time was more difficult. I must have spent literal ages commanding things to move, to continue.

Eventually, out of sheer frustration, I attempted to kick the scavenger that had so ungraciously inconvenienced me. Time started again, as easy as breathing. My foot sent the knife spinning from his hands, and within moments I had dislocated his elbow and thrown him to the ground, making use of what I had so meticulously planned. I swiftly proceeded to ensure that he would never again have the opportunity to inflict harm, for whatever reason.

Seeing his body broken on the ground, I felt no pity. Having time rendered meaningless robs a great many other things of their significance, I have found.


Not long after that, I took on Accord’s seal, gaining peace and protection in exchange for my services. Accord frequently found my… insights, useful.

Things continued, for a time. But eventually, things changed, as they always do.

This time, the change was an accident.


There was an Epic I had worked closely with under Accord’s command; she went by the name of Areadbhar. She was, in many ways, the closest thing I had to a friend. On rare occasion we would be sent to deal with threats to Peace, things too strange or too powerful to be dealt with normally. I provided the solutions, she provided the raw power to make them work.

But, as it always seems to be, we eventually found something we couldn’t beat.

We thought, perhaps, that we might be able to find a solution if Ari could watch the Epic herself, view him in stopped time and find a hole in his constantly shifting defences.

I had never before attempted to use my power on others; to be truthful, I did not expect it to work.

It did.


She was a High Epic, a resurrector. Nothing could kill her. Nothing did.

Ari has been comatose ever since that day. Ever since I showed her a glimpse of eternity. She still lives, in a specially made room within Accord’s personal infirmary; she’ll drink if a straw is put to her lips, she’ll move if something is causing her discomfort, but whatever spark it is that animated her is gone. She recognizes no one, responds to nothing but the basic stimuli required to preserve her life.

I have spent much time thinking about this, and I believe I have come to understand what happened. When I use my power on myself, I only ever give myself a set amount of additional time. It can be massive, but must always be finite. When I grant others the same gift, there is no such restriction. They feel a true eternity, never ending, never ceasing. It breaks them. When their consciousness should return, instead there is only an empty shell. At some point during that long second of eternity, they have given up.


I wonder sometimes, if I too have given up. In many ways, I’ve already lived for aeons in just the few short years since discovering my powers. Little matters to me as it once did. I can remember perfectly how life used to feel, so full of joy, sorrow, anger, fear; now all is the same.

But no. I know I have not. For there is still something that I want. I have seen the pain my kind brings. I’ve felt it. Accord shattered my old life; I’ve managed to make my new one meaningless. We do not deserve these powers we have been given. They warp and twist and corrupt until we destroy all which we touch.


I have since left Peace, for peace is the last thing I want now. I have a new mission. A war.

If you are one of those whom Death cannot catch, be wary.

Eternity comes.

Edited by Aonar Faileas
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63d65947-a446-4748-99ce-631b4f08bc7e_zps

 

 

I was thirteen years old when the first Epics appeared. [/size]

 

Since that time, I've lived an eternity. [/size]

 

Or multiple, depending on how you wish to count it. [/size]

 

You see, I was one of the first. For the longest time, I didn't realize it. You must understand, I am not the most powerful of Epics. I never had a Rending; I've never directly harmed anyone, actually. [/size]

 

That is soon to change. [/size]

 

[/size]

 

This all began on a fateful day in July, five years ago. I was on my own; my parents had had the misfortune of being in town when Accord was in a mood. He did not keep as strict a watch over Peace in those days, and there were many who slipped through the cracks. I was one such as those. [/size]

 

For a while, the best I could do was scavenge food from the weekly markets. It wasn't much, but I didn’t starve. The threat of death was constant. Without Accord's blessing, any Epic, hell, any angry shopkeeper could kill you without repercussion. [/size]

 

Living like that, no one survived, not really. The best you could do was hope you died tomorrow, or next week, or next month; just so long as it wasn't today. It always caught up to you, though. Death, that is. In many ways, it was and is the most constant reality to life, since Calamity’s rise.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

It didn’t take long for Death to catch me. Looking back, perhaps I wasn’t running very quickly. I was doing my usual rounds when a fellow scavenger tried to knife me, kill me for what little half-rotten fruit I’d been able to find. He looked thin enough I probably would’ve shared with him, if he’d asked.[/size]

 

Things slowed, as they often do when adrenaline comes in to play. I could see the knife coming, see that I wouldn’t have time to react, but I was calmer than I had any right to be. I do not think I would’ve minded dying, had that been my time. Something peculiar happened, however. The world kept slowing, and then just… stopped.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

That was the beginning of my first eternity.  [/size]

 

I was surprised, confused, at first. Even a little scared. As time went on, I began to understand. An eternity is a very long time to think, after all. I was an Epic, one of those impossible persons that defied physics, and who now ruled this world.[/size]

 

And I could stop time.[/size]

 

I spent untold stretches of time experimenting, learning the limits of this power in my isolation. I could move, easily, but interacting with the waking world seems impossible. Everything was insubstantial, just out of reach. Its greatest use, however, seemed to be mere observation. I could think, and plan, observe and deduce in peace, with no constraints upon time; although I have no way of measuring it, I believe it took me no more than a few days’ worth of time to determine how to escape my current situation without injury.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

Figuring out how to restart time was more difficult. I must have spent untold ages commanding things to move, to continue. [/size]

 

Eventually, out of sheer frustration, I attempted to kick the scavenger that had so ungraciously inconvenienced me. Time started again, as easy as breathing. My foot sent the knife spinning from his hands, and within moments I had dislocated his elbow and thrown him to the ground, making use of what I had so meticulously planned. I swiftly proceeded to ensure that he would never again have the opportunity to inflict harm, for whatever reason.[/size]

 

Seeing his body broken on the ground, I felt no pity. Having time rendered meaningless robs a great many other things of their significance, I have found.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

Not long after that, I took on Accord’s seal, gaining peace and protection in exchange for my services. Accord frequently found my… insights, useful.[/size]

 

Things continued, for a time. But eventually, things changed, as they always do.[/size]

 

This time, the change was an accident.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

There was an Epic I had worked closely with under Accord’s command; she went by the name of Areadbhar. She was, in many ways, the closest thing I had to a friend. On rare occasion we would be sent to deal with threats to Peace, things too strange or too powerful to be dealt with normally. I provided the solutions, she provided the raw power to make them work. [/size]

 

But, as it always seems to be, we eventually found something we couldn’t beat. [/size]

 

We thought, perhaps, that we might be able to find a solution if Ari could watch the Epic herself, view him in stopped time and find a hole in his constantly shifting defences.[/size]

 

I had never before attempted to use my power on others; to be truthful, I did not expect it to work. [/size]

 

It did. [/size]

 

[/size]

 

She was a High Epic, a resurrector. Nothing could kill her. Nothing did. [/size]

 

Ari has been comatose ever since that day. Ever since I showed her a glimpse of eternity. She still lives, in a specially made room within Accord’s personal infirmary; she’ll drink if a straw is put to her lips, she’ll move if something is causing her discomfort, but whatever spark it is that animated her is gone. She recognizes no one, responds to nothing but the basic stimuli required to preserve her life.[/size]

 

I have spent much time thinking about this, and I believe I have come to understand what happened. When I use my power on myself, I only ever give myself a set amount of additional time. It can be massive, but must always be finite. When I grant other the same gift, there is no such restriction. They feel a true eternity, never ending, never ceasing. It breaks them. When their consciousness should return, instead there is only an empty shell. At some point during that long second of eternity, they have given up.[/size]

 

[/size]

 

I wonder sometimes, if I too have given up. In many ways, I’ve already lived for aeons in just the few short years since discovering my powers. Little matters to me as it once did. I can remember perfectly how life used to feel, so full of joy, sorrow, anger, fear; now all is the same. [/size]

 

But no. I know I have not. For there is still something that I want. I have seen the pain my kind brings. I’ve felt it. Accord shattered my old life; I’ve managed to make my new one meaningless. We do not deserve these powers we have been given. They warp and twist and corrupt until we destroy all which we touch. [/size]

 

[/size]

 

I have since left Peace, for peace is the last thing I want now. I have a new mission. A war. [/size]

 

If you are one of those whom Death cannot catch, be wary.[/size]

 

Eternity comes.[/size]

That was amazing! One of the best pieces on the forum! Take an upvote!

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  • 2 weeks later...

Backtrack screamed. The scrunchy faced creature had come out of nowhere and was now regarding him with a hungry look in its eyes. Its whiplike tail swung back and forth in a terrifying manner. It tilted its head at him and took a step closer, a terrifying pink tongue hanging out of the side of its mouth. Backtrack tried to run, but the monster bounded ahead of him, cutting off all chance of escape. He looked for a place to hide, but there was nowhere in sight. The creature stalked closer to him, tasting the air with its tongue. It walked up to him and sat down, staring at him as if begging him to move so it could hunt. Suddenly, a scary goth girl came around the corner.

" Oh, there you are, Suki. Sorry, she just loves people so much." The girl took the creature and left.

If it liked people, that must mean that it ate them. Backtrack had almost been eaten. He ran into another alley to hide from Suki.

An hour later, he finally managed to work up the courage to set off down the street.

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Suki watched the strange scrawny man disappear as Sam carried her away. She didn't mind being carried, especially not by Sam, so she didn't protest. Still, she longed to go back to the scrawny man. 

 

He'd smelled like fear. Some of it curdled into aggression and awfulness, but most of it….not. It was just fear. Plain old scary old fear. 

 

And it was directed at her. 

 

The thought made Suki tilt her head, but that didn't help her make sense of it. She could be scary if she wanted to. She had sharp claws and muscular legs and tiny strong teeth that could be combined into a very bad day for someone. But she hadn't used any of them, and as far as she knew, that scrawny scared man didn't know she had them. 

 

"Wonder what that guy was all worked up about," Sam mused.

 

Suki rested her chin on Sam's shoulder. The scrawny man was gone now, probably off to scream at some cheese.

 

Because if there was one thing he'd find scarier than Suki, it was cheese.  

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  • 2 weeks later...

Merry Christmas my fellow WHIO players!

 


 

liY406p.png

 

"M-Mr. Clause, I can't grant you access, you don't have a pass!" The woman before him trembled. She reached up to adjust her glasses as a quickly formed bead of sweat rolled down past her bangs.

 

"Oh? Well where's the cheer in that?!" Santa stared at the young woman over his spectacles, the top of his white beard visible at the bottom of his vision, his belly beneath that. "You do know what time of year it is?"

 

She cleared her throat, her nervous jitters almost palpable. "Yes, I do. But I've been instructed not to let you see the children. The master has not only banned you from the city, but is also here right now. He'd be furious should you interrupt his time with the children."

 

Santa took in a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily. In an instant, his brain received all the knowledge he needed about the woman before him. He liked to call his knowledge the Database, but really it was just one of his powers. He knew everyone by their face, voice, or name. Not only that, but he knew everything they'd done their entire lives. To top it off, the information relayed to his brain instantly. It was awesome.

 

"You're name is Carol, yes?"

 

"H-how did you know?" Shock wiped across her face.

 

"My dear, I am Santa Clause! Carol, I see you've been a pretty good girl this year, but it's been tough on you, hasn't it? Let me see, ah, yes there was that break up back in August, but you persevered. Hmm, I'm thinking you deserve a gift! Here you go." Santa reached a hand into his pocket. Wrapping his hands around the cloth inside, he pulled it out.

 

The girl flinched, likely expecting him to remove a weapon of some type, but was relieved to see him pull out a cloth bag. Santa looked down at his bag hanging limp in the air from his hand. Reaching into the bag with his free hand, Santa used his second power. The girl's desires appeared in his head, he could see all of them. Her desire to live, her desire to leave town and be free from the Epics, and her desire for a new mobile. A smile splayed across his face as his third power came into effect.

 

Matter creation was a beautiful thing.

 

Removing his hand from the bag, it emerged holding a box containing the latest and greatest mobile on the market. Carol's face lit up. "Here you go, darlin'. Merry Christmas."

 

"I-I don't know what to say," Carol took the mobile from him, staring at the box for a long moment before looking back up at him.

 

"I don't need you to say anything. I do need you to let me pass though, before I have to resort to forcing my way in."

 

"But ole' Frosty will get mad if I let you through!"

 

"Then I'll have to take that mobile back," Santa extended his hand, but Carol looked back down at the box. It always worked. She took a long moment to contemplate, before taking a step to the side. "If he asks, tell him you forced your way past me?"

 

Santa allowed his smile to grow. "Of course, Carol." He put the gift bag back into his pocket and strode down the hallway, his black boots squeaking into the floor thanks to the snow outside. But that's how Frosty liked his town. Snow filled and cold.

 

In fact, the hallway was growing progressively colder as he walked. Pulling his big red jacket tight around himself, he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. As he reached the end of the hallway, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on the door in front of him. He could hear children on the other side of the door, lots of them.

 

Pushing, the door moved easily. The sight that greeted him was one of wonder. A large mass of children, the ones that he could hear through the door, all looked his way, and silence immediately descended on the gymnasium. The way they looked at him, Santa lived for that. But something was missing.

 

He looked toward the stage built next to the gymnasium, and on it stood a podium, a podium without the Epic he'd come looking for, and some empty chairs. Anger swept through him, but he kept it in check. Smiling at the kids, Santa slowly made his way to the stage. 

 

"Ahem, hello, children!"

 

"Hi Santa Clause!"

 

"I've come here to see if you've all been naughty or nice this year, and give you presents!" The kids errupted in cheers. "Calm down, calm down," Santa laughed, "So I need you all to form a single file line. Think you can do that?"

 

"YEAH!" was the resounding reply as the kids scrambled around to get as close to the front of the line as they could. 

 

Santa pulled one of the chairs over, and whipped out his bag. It was time to do what he did best; gather info from children.

 

Taking his seat, he slowly made his way through every child in the room. One by one they came up, sat on his lap, and talked about all the things they wanted. Santa would smile and nod, but his mind would be elsewhere, receiving all the data he needed on the child. Johnny and Katie and Kyle and Marissa. Slowly but surely they all came and went. Santa would, once the child was done talking, remove a newly formed, pre-wrapped gift from his bag, and ask the child a simple question; where did Frosty go? The child would answer, saying he left about an hour ago, and would then take their gift, running off the other side to join the other children who had already come and gone, unwrapping in such haste to see that their most wanted toy was inside.

 

It took nearly two hours to get through the whole gymnasium, but it was worth it. Rising from his chair, he walked out of the hall of children as they thanked him one last time, and he moved for the exit. Passing Carol, she was busy playing with her mobile, so he bid her farewell and left. She watched him leave with a stunned face before running back to the gymnasium, but Santa knew she wouldn't find anything there. Frosty had left.

 

Must have known I was coming. Calamity! Oh well, I'm sure the kids will love their presents.

 


 

Santa stood a few miles outside of Frosty's town. Night had descended, and all the children he'd met that day had no doubt gone home to their families. Families who thought they were safe under Frosty's protection. Santa watched, expectantly, as the time slowly clicked towards midnight. After all, what kind of Santa Clause would he be if their true presents didn't show until Christmas day?

 

As the seconds ticked by, Santa's eagerness grew. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. 5...4...come on...2...1...YES!

 

Light filled the sky, shortly followed by rubble that was so well illuminated, Santa could have sworn it was day. The light was shortly followed by sound, a loud BOOM and then a low rumble. This was then followed by a harsh shaking as the ground tried to absorb the massive amount of energy. The explosions riddling Frosty's town were tremendous, each large enough to topple a city block.

 

Matter creation was a beautiful thing.

 

A smile tugged at Santa's jolly cheeks, a soft laugh reverberating up from his merry belly. He lifted his hand, a cookie forming in it, and took a bite. Chocolate chip, yum. But it needs milk. His other hand lifted to his lips, the soft cool touch of glass kissing him as he tilted his head back to accept the embrace of milk on his throat.

 

Turning his back on the city, he slowly walked away into the wasteland. "Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night. Ho ho ho..."

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The Christmas of Neverthere
--------------------------------------------------------------------

Neverthere opened her eyes, pupils dilating as they adjusted to the artificial lighting in the house. She'd been skipping through the snow keeping an eye out for anything interesting but everyone had been celebrating and witnessing so many acts of sickening good will had forced her back into her own body. At least in this house she could always be provided with the entertainment of others' suffering.

A low sobbing could be heard from another room.

"Excellent, C4 is up." She said before stretching her legs and skipping into the next room.

"Hey bestie how's it going?"

Dull, pain filled eyes looked up from between the bars of a cage, pain turning to anger as Neverthere's former 'friend' looked at her.

"Naww, it's so sweet that you still remember. Has Nighthound been visiting again? You sounded like he's come to pay you a visit."

C4 looked as though she were seriously contemplating blowing herself up if it would just harm Neverthere a bit.

"You're lucky I'm not the jealous sort you know." Neverthere said as she waggled a finger at C4.

She quickly drew her finger back to avoid getting bitten. A knock sounded out before the sound of an opening door could be heard.

"Whoops, sorry hun, no time to play now, I have to go greet the man of the house."

Skipping into yet another room she was met by Nighthound as he entered, Ray trailing behind him and glaring daggers at his back.

"Hey!" Neverthere greeted as she skipped up to embrace Nighthound. She was stopped short as he held a box out for her.

A present? Oh god not him too, I never would have thought he'd be the type.

Neverthere attempted to retain her usual smile as she accepted the box, at least if it was from Nighthound it might be something that would at least suit her tastes.

She suddenly noticed the tag on the box was labeled:
For: Ray
From: Santa (And everyone else)

She looked quizzically at Nighthound.

"Someone left it at the door for her." He explained. "But she just hasn't been a good enough pet today to deserve a reward, so I thought you might like it."

His smile said that he'd enjoy depriving Ray of something far more than he would giving it to Neverthere but she didn't mind that. He always payed more attention to that stuck up energy Epic than he should. She'd gladly steal something from her.

"Well I'd be happy to accept then." She said, shooting a big grin at Ray who shot a look of utter hatred back at her.

She carefully undid the bow on top and unwrapped the paper, savoring the moment as much as she could. She finally managed to open the box and then stared at its contents.

Utter silence.

Nighthound began to look at her curiously as she did nothing but hold the box in shaking hands.

She screamed. Dropping the box and backing away as she stared at it with horror. A tiny slip of paper fell out, drifting towards the couple in the doorway but the box itself fell heavily, its contents refusing to spill out as it thudded to the ground.

"What the?" Nighthound said, picking up the fallen slip.

Neverthere's weakness. The slip said.

A look of sadistic glee spread across the Epics face as he bent down to retrieve the box. Evidently pleased to be able to inflict even more control over the woman.

He picked the box up before staring into it. Another moment of silence ensued until finally.

"Ahhh!" Nighthound screeched, leaping backwards a dozen feet and nearly out the door before accidentally tripping over his own feet.

The slip of paper fell once more, this time being picked up by an incredibly curious Ray who read it then turned it over.

Nighthound's weakness too.

A look of utter relief spread across Ray's face as she picked up the box, casually sending a lance of energy through the leg of a still-cowering Neverthere before turning to confront Nighthound.

She held the box out in front of her like a charm, warding off Nighthound who was reduced to crawling backwards.

"Merry Christmas, from the world." She said before spearing the head of the Epic hated by all, as she had done so many times before. But this time she threw the box onto his spasming body and the wounds did not heal.

And then Nighthound died.

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  • 1 month later...

The building was dark, abandoned by the tenants who had once occupied it. And for good reason. Its slate black walls riddled with bullet holes and scorch marks. A street battle had taken place here. As dark and dirty as the building it had been next to.


                But that had little to do with the building being empty.


                Citadel stepped into the building, the door had been splintered in the chaos of the day. Stormeggeddon and the Knights Blasphemy were getting bolder by the hour.


                Citadel walked slowly through the wreckage of the building. Smashed furniture and overturned tables dominated the room. There had been lootings at first, when the city had first fell silent, but those hadn’t lasted long.


                There was a flight of stairs, still intact. The steel hard carbon was not only everywhere in this city and cheap because of it, but it was also incredibly hard to harvest.


                Citadel made his way up the stairs.  His boot clinked against an object on one of the steps. He knelt down, feeling in the dark for whatever he had kicked. Finally he came up with a spent ammo casing.


                His fist closed around the casing. So the battle had come in here had it? He had found no bodies. But that meant little when the Knights Blasphemy where fighting against you.


                Citadel walked up the stairs, kicking aside spent cartridges without regard for stealth. He needed to find Jackson, to make sure the old general wasn’t dead.


                He heard the coughing immediately as he entered the first floor. He pulled out a side arm –a Crowburner S-15, with electron compressed magazine and experimental firing chamber—and made his way through the halls.


                He followed the sound of the coughing into one of the hotel rooms. There he sat, Jackson, laying on a bed that had survived the scrounging. He was on his side, coughing blood onto the mattress.


                Citadel lowered his sidearm and immediately noticed the armored figure on the floor. A Knight. Its head was missing.


                “You dirty dog. You actually managed to kill It,” Citadel whispered. But as quiet as his voice was, it was still enough to wake the old general out of his pained slumber. The general shot up, bringing about his left hand brandishing a pistol. He fired.


                As fast as the general was, Citadel was faster. Much faster. He twisted his torso faster than a normal person could blink, and the bullet missed him by barely an inch. He fired his own weapon, knocking the gun out of the generals hand.


                The General spasmed once and fell back down heaving up blood and whatever else was in his stomach. Jackson looked at Citadel and recognition finally dawned in his eyes.


                “Citadel,” he said wearily “I should have known you’d come looking for me. Idiot.”


                “You’re dying of the sickness.” Citadel said, kneeling at his bedside and ignoring his commanding officers words. “What happened to your ring? It should have protected you.”


                The general looked confused, then held up a hand. No. Not a hand, but a stump, wrapped in what appeared to be bloody cloth.


                “I see,” Citadel said.


                “No you don’t,” the general winced and coughed again. “But I got the blasting idiot. You tell them that… when you… get… back…” The old man fell asleep.


                “I will,” Citadel stood up, he looked at his handgun, then at the general.


                Then without another hesitation he raised the handgun and shot General Jackson in the head.


                Citadel turned and left the room. His hand gun tightly gripped in his fist. It had been too late for the general. The sickness had too much of a hold on him, to save him. It had been the best mercy he could give him.


                It had been a mercy he had given to hundreds.


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Obliteration teleported next to Nighthound.

"I've been chasing you for a long time," Obliteration said, "and I finally found you."

And then Nighthound died.

***************

Hoid worldhopped into Newcago.

And then the fandom exploded with a shout of "RECKONVERSE ISN'T COSMERE!"

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  • 2 months later...

"we shouldnt fight." Ragnarok said to deathgale and antimatter. "lets all just sign this peace accord that ensures domestic liberties to each other and to the proud people of astoria, what say you?"

 

"NO!" antimatter shouted and proceeded to blow him up.

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  • 2 months later...

Disclaimer, the following post stars Shiny Sparkle doing shiny stuff and not confined by the consequences of canon. Part 1 of ?

 

For once Shiny decided to take a walk. It was as dull as she always imagined without a cutie in her arms, even worse it appears that after Skullpowder rampaged through the area the beach was no longer visited by the locals, not even the nude section.  Worst way to get around ever.

In an attempt to at least see some light in this dire situation, and the absence of women wearing at the very most revealing swimsuits at a beach was bordering on an apocalyptic event, Shiny kicked up some sand and made it explode into wonderful sparkling lights. Skipping through her sparkling beach she found a lone figure lying at the beach. Instantly Shiny teleported next to her and what she found was a… a hot pink skinned alien babe sleeping on the beach in a violet one-piece revealing a passable amount of cleavage and navel. Curves in just the right places, cute face with extra cat ears. Calamity yes!

This brave adventurer of love shall now make first contact.

Shiny Sparkle started with gently waking her up by tenderly slipping her hands under the beauty’s one-piece swim suit. Wearing anything while being on the holy nude beach territory was just no way to behave oneself. Of course such beauty was perfectly innocent but even if this darling didn’t know earth’s customs yet, Shiny would be sure to teach her all about how a cute woman should act. She’d make sure to teach her everything in very personal detail.

Just as Shiny made the first skin contact with alien beauty she startled awake with a gasp, just before the moans too, bummer. “You must…” the space babe said only to interrupt herself with coughing. “defend against the Blackest Night…” Then she went limp.
“No! Not don’t go, space babe! I didn’t even get to know your name… and I’m not into corpses.” But space babe remained motionless. Why must fate be so cruel? 

Then Shiny noticed a violet light glowing on the space babe’s finger. On closer inspection it was a ring, a shining ring. Space babe even had great taste in accessories and they didn’t get a chance to go on a date. Then the ring started floating off her finger and towards Shiny Sparkle.
THERE IS error GREAT LOVE IN YOUR HEART. WELCOME TO THE STAR SAPPHIRES.
Then the ring placed herself on Shiny’s finger and the violet light enveloped her. When the wave of light settled down Shiny found herself clad in the same violet suit that space babe was wearing. Not bad at all, though if it was going for the fan service angle it might as well show some more skin. As she thought about that some of the cloth pulled away from the sides of her waist.

NOW JOIN YOUR SISTERS TO REPELL THE BLACKEST NIG-
“Sparks no. I can feel love itself calling out to me and I can see that I have been foolish. Quick, we must go to the season of love.” As Shiny declared her goal a portal appeared in the air before her and Shiny stepped through it with the confidence only love could bestow upon a woman.
SPRING?
“No you silly ring, I’m talking about Autumn.”

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  • 2 months later...
  • 1 month later...

"We're dead," she said again. "We are so dead."

Charlie didn't bother to answer; Candace had been rocking on the hood of the car muttering for the past hour. One hand kept touching the bag of jewels as if afraid it would disappear. The other kept pawing at the blood on her pale blue dress as if hoping it would.

"So dead," the tied up man agreed. "Maximum dead."

"Don't need your opinion." Charlie grunted. What he needed was an extra pair of hands to dig the hole, but even if he had an extra shovel, he wouldn't have asked Candace for help. She had a talents, but even on her best day, backbreaking labor was beyond her.

Having just shot a man meant this probably wasn't her best day.

Their captive ignored him. "C'mon man," he said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "What's the harm in talk, right?"

Charlie had to give it to him; he was remarkably calm for someone tied to a cactus in the middle of a desert. Then again, it was probably a familiar sight to him. Charlie imagined that the crooks who ran Vegas often buried corpses in the desert.

He focused again on digging.

The captive wasn't going to let the topic drop.

"Hey so listen man. So maybe things got a little out of hand. This rust happens, know what I mean? No big."

"Are you a sociopath?" The burly man looked up with a frown. 

"A what?"

"A socio- never mind." Did that word have any meaning anymore? The captive -a young boy, now that he paid attention- probably didn't know any world other than this one, and even before Calamity, Vegas hadn't been a basin of morality.

"You're telling the guys who put a hole in your friends' gut and then literally drove both of you fifteen miles out of town to dump the body."

"He wasn't my friend."

"I think you're missing the point."

"So are you, bro. See, there's two of you, but only one gun. Catch my meaning?" When Charlie frowned, he sighed exasperated, fidgeting. "What I mean is...hey, think ya could loosen this a lit-"

"Absolutely not."

"Cold, man. I'm laying on the table here." He leaned forward, as far forward as the desert plant and his bindings old allow. 

"It was your girl here shot him," he said. "Still got the blood to prove it. And she was the one at the table too. Two of a kind. Killing one of his men, and counting cards in his casino; Capodecina doesn't like either of those."

Charlie couldn't help but snort. Capodecina. It sounded like an epic name, but it's owner was anything but. From what he had heard, Capo liked to throw his weight around with the air and manners of an epic and a mobster, but he was still very human. Strangely enough, that led to the man and his establishments being popular with epics and Vanilla's.

It was what had drawn him and Candace there. There were enough peoplethatthey had thought they could get away with it; pass off her card counting as an epic ability, if worst came to worst.

Considering they had a body stinking in the afternoon sun, and a punk gloating, it was safe to say that this was worst.

"That's a nice car," the boy continued. "What is it, a '98 chevy?"

"That is literally the opposite of what that is."

He laughed. "Okay man, I admit it. I don't know rust about cars. That was more...well..." He tilted his head, gesturing at his former partner. "Anyway, I know enough to recognise a getaway vehicle, ya get me?"

Charlie wished he didn't. He wished they hadn't ran into either of the men. He wished he'd pulled Candace away from the table sooner. He wished for a lot of things. He wished he had another shovel.

He realised that Candace had gone quiet, and looked over his shoulder. She had stopped rocking, stoppedtalking. She was staring wide-eyed at the pair, like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"Getaway cars are kept fuelled up, right? So I bet you got a decent tank of gas. And it might get that little bit further if you...lightened the load. One body, 'stead of two."

"What are you saying?" Charlie kept his tone level, quiet and cold, as if that would stop Candace from hearing him.

"What's it sound like, man? Let me go. Get in your car. Drive off. No one's gonna come after you if we got what we want; thar is to say, the money and the-"

The last word of his sentence was drowned by the sound of the shovel ringing the upside of his head, a wet and sticky sound of steel cutting into skin and blood.

"Don't talk about my wife that way," Charlie said coldly. This time, at least, he didn't get a reply.

He looked back at the woman sitting on the car, staring at him with curiosity, and he suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed. A few cultures circling over head pierced the silence with appreciative sqwacks.

"Did you mean that"  she asked slowly, finally breaking the silence. Charlie reached up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Was supposed to be more romantic," he admitted. "Was gonna buy a ring after we skipped town but...but yeah. Yeah I mean that."

Candace stared at him. She slid off the car, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him so deeply that he didn't care about the blood she was pressing onto his shirt. When he, reluctantly, pulled away, it was with a sudden curse of realisation.

"What's wrong?"

"Now I have to dig two holes."

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  • 9 months later...

If you're confused on who Lavalake is, read the signups for the Sanderson Elimination game, MR24.

Lava. In the city of plants. 

 
It was unpredictable. Of course it was. New Epics were always a surprise, no matter what some lorists tried to map. Of course it was an Epic. Who else would bring a lake of lava to Darwin?
 
The Darwin Tree was on fire. Ivystorm grew the tree in response to the invasion, but even she had her limits. Most of the Epics had either fled or were trying to control the newbie. But Lavalake, as he called himself, was sucked into the black hole called the rending.
 
Darwin and all it owned would be ashes before he died down. 
 
Ivystorm's first Epic kill had been a fire Epic. Ironic that her empire would be destroyed by one as well.
 
Lava scorched her bones as she walked through it. She healed instantly, but it hurt all the same. She would kill this little lava Epic. 
 
What could she do after that? Pain had been caught in the lava. Crystalvision too. Birdrider had escaped with Starshatter, but they wouldn't return to a burnt city.
 
Lavalake would not have the mercy of a slow death.
 
Ivystorm would have to start over in a whole new city. One with plenty of bickering Epics and no one decisive High Epic leader. She would rule again.
 
Lavalake threw lake after lake in her direction, but she did not stop. She strode towards him, rage filling her every cell. Lavalake was as afraid as any new Epic, but the power of Calamity coursing through him made him arrogant.
 
Lavalake would die.
 
Ivystorm would rule once more.
 
Lavalake may have somehow killed the fierce Nighthound in a city far away and somehow made it here, but she would end him.
 
and then Ivystorm died
 
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