When Nathan Sperry woke with a pounding headache, blinking in the torchlight, he knew exactly where he was.

Fear banished the lingering effects of the drug. Several sensations came to him all at once—a wooden table beneath him, too-thin cloth shielding his body from the chill, the taste of cloth in his mouth, the something pinning his wrists and ankles. A few frantic glances confirmed what he already knew.

Thick leather straps held his wrists and ankles down.

His mouth was tied with a gag.

A thin white robe covered him.

And the table belonged to Fortuity.

The second Fortuity had signaled to him at the casino, he’d known something terrible would happen—and when he turned from his woman of the week long enough to ask his name, Nathan knew he was a dead man.

There was no point in running. Not from Fortuity. Not from an Epic who would know his steps before he took them. There had been nothing to do but retreat to the kitchen and sink to the floor in a shaking heap. Nothing else but to listen as the news was bounced from server to cook to server and nod mutely as they cried and hugged him and said he’d be missed.

Nathan gave his arm a tug, then another, but only succeeded in bruising his hand. The straps were tight, almost to the point of chafing, but not quite. Fortuity didn’t want any distractions.

“Don’t panic. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just take everything as it comes.” That was what his manager had said during the “What to Do if You Anger an Epic” portion of training. It wasn’t part of the official program, but she always carved out a few minutes for it.

Don’t panic. Too late.

Don’t get ahead of yourself. What was there to get ahead of?

Just take everything as it comes. Nathan lay his head back and took a few breaths, slow and even as he could. His heart pounded—how much longer until it stopped? How long before breathing was impossible?

And then what?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

He had heard that severe trauma sometimes induced unconsciousness. That victims of violence occasionally—or was it often?—blacked out for the worst of it. Would that happen? Or would whatever drug he’d been given keep him aware until the end?

Take each thing as it comes.

The drug had worn off. Fortuity wanted him awake, and he wouldn’t risk further complications with more drugs. He would black out, and that was that.

That was what he told himself, anyway.

He heard a door slam shut, and his pulse quickened. His eyes smarted—but he blinked them away. He wouldn’t cry. He forced himself to listen instead.

There were two voices, one Fortuity’s, and one female. He’d brought the woman back to his penthouse. Nathan tried to calculate what that meant. Did it mean more time to wait—or that his death would have an audience?

Nathan thought back to the woman at the casino. She was pretty—all of Fortuity’s women were pretty—but she wasn’t dressed like most Newcago women. No flapper dress or cloche hat for her. This one had worn a dress of fluffy black tulle and knee-length silk, dyed all the colors of the rainbow and then some. A thick wool sweater, black with multicolored ribbons woven throughout, hung off the back of her chair. Her black hair had been like her eyes: sparkling, though due more to the presence of glitter than that of mischief. Not once had she stopped smiling.

An Epic.

She would want to watch.

As if on cue, she spoke, her voice muffled by the thick wooden door. “Where’s Nathan?”

Fortuity laughed, a low, growling sort of laugh that froze Nathan’s breath in his lungs. “He’s right in here, doll.”

“Is that the bathroom?”

Fortuity paused. “Uh—sure is. But you don’t really—“

There was a scuffle.

There was a slam.

There was Fortuity’s shout of anger.

“And now you’re in there! See ya!”

Fortuity pounded on the door. Nathan couldn’t make out his words, but he could guess.

The woman giggled. “Have fun with the doorknob!”

More growling—and a yelp of surprise. What did she do to the doorknob?

Nathan didn’t have time to wonder. In a moment, he heard her running—no, skipping—toward the door, his door. “I’m gonna go find Na-than, I’m gonna go find Na-than,” she sang.

Nathan’s mouth went dry. If he had to choose death by Fortuity or death by a giggling singer—he wasn’t sure which he’d choose, but the former seemed slightly less nightmarish.

She knocked on the door. “Yoo-hoo! Nathan!”

For the first time that night, Nathan was grateful for the gag.

She giggled again. “Ready or not, here I come!”

One more knock and the door vanished, sending a sheet of something rippling and transparent crumpling to the floor. The Epic jumped and clapped her hands.

“I found you! Yay! We’re going to have so much fun!”

Nathan couldn’t have said a word had he wanted to.

With another small jump, she landed on what had been the door, causing a series of loud pops.

Bubble wrap. She had turned the door into bubble wrap.

Nathan watched as Fortuity’s date pranced over the bubble wrap in light-up socks and mismatched Converse, her giggles blending with Fortuity’s shouting and banging.

Too soon, she was at his side.

With another giggle, she crouched beside the table so their faces were level. She had brown eyes, very big and full of mischief. He’d rather think it mischief than malice. “Hi there. I’m Doctor Funtimes. Do you wanna join my party?”

The words of his manager returned. “Always give an Epic what they want. Don’t ever tell them no—unless there’s a more powerful one standing by.”

Fortuity wanted to cut him open.

Doctor Funtimes wanted a party—which could very well involve the same.

She had locked Fortuity in the bathroom with a malicious doorknob.

Nathan nodded.

Doctor Funtimes gasped, jumped in place and clapped her hands. “Yay! I love parties! I throw good parties.”

Nathan watched her, frozen where he was. Any second now she would wrap her hand around that ceremonial dagger lying on a nearby pedestal and….

She snapped her fingers. The leather straps dissolved into confetti. There was still something in his mouth, but the gag was no longer pressing on his cheeks. He tasted sugar.

Nathan sat up, lifted his hand, and spat out a brownie.

“Try it,” Doctor Funtimes said. “They’re nummy.”

Nummy?

She giggled, clapping her hands again. “Let’s go find that poo-poo head! He’s fun.”

Nummy?

“Come on!” She pranced around the table, took his hand, and helped him off. Nathan had no time to process the sensation of walking out of his own tomb, let alone while clutching a brownie with bubble wrap popping against his bare feet. Doctor Funtimes danced onward, dragging him along until she stopped at the nearest door and knocked.

“For-TU-i-ty!” she sang. “I found something!”

He heard the crack of gunfire, and the cry of something dying. “You put him back where he was!”

“Nah, I think I’ll keep him.” She snapped her fingers again and, to Nathan’s horror, the bathroom door became a curtain of beaded gumballs. “Look at him! Isn’t he fun?”

Fortuity tore a handful of strings down when a gumball hit him in the eye and threw it on the floor, leveling his revolver at Doctor Funtimes. Nathan instinctively ducked behind her.

“You listen to me,” he said, his voice soft with barely-restrained rage. “You put my penthouse back the way it was, you put him back where he was, and I’ll shoot you. I’ll just shoot you. Got it?”

It was a generous offer, but Doctor Funtimes giggled. “Nah, he looks neat. Toodles!”

Another gunshot tore through the air. Nathan fell to the ground, hands over his head, bracing himself for the sound of Doctor Funtimes’ body hitting the floor.

Instead, she giggled.

Nathan looked up and saw her holding something small and square.

Two more gunshots.

A crouton hit the floor. Doctor Funtimes jumped and clapped her hands. “Ooh, ooh, throw a grenade this time! I wanna make a salad!”

Fortuity growled and reached into his pocket—presumably for another bullet—but he never reloaded. Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers, and his gun became a hamster.

“What the—?” He swore vilely at Doctor Funtimes, throwing the hamster. She caught it with a shocked gasp.

“Fortuity!” She may as well have admonished an ill-behaved child. “We do not throw Mister Hamsterface! We hold him and pet him and love him!” She cradled the hamster in her arms to demonstrate.

“But you—he—he’s a hamster!”

“And he wants you to respect his life choices.”

“He’s a hamster! No—he’s my gun! Give me my gun back!”

She stuck out her tongue.

“Give—ah!” Growling again, he drew another revolver, bringing the barrel level with Nathan’s leg. “You turn that thing back into a gun, or I’ll shoot him. Won’t kill him—oh, no. That’s for later. You’ll get to watch me take your little friend apart piece by piece.”

“Nathan or Mister Hamsterface?”

“Both.” A bullet clicked into place. “Now. Put the hamster on the floor, and step away.”

Doctor Funtimes snapped her fingers.

Fortuity’s fedora leaped from his head, growling savagely. Once on the floor, it took ahold of his cape and gave a tug much mightier than Nathan expected from a walking hat, yanking Fortuity back a step.

“What the—“ He tugged back, but he was already losing ground to his hat. “This—doesn’t—even—make—sense!”

Doctor Funtimes laughed. “Catch me if you can, meanieface!” She grasped Nathan’s arm, and Fortuity’s penthouse vanished.

The last of the late-night traffic whipped past. Few pedestrians were out, but those that were stopped in their tracks to stare. Cold night wind cut through his white robe, pulling it taut around his legs. He danced from foot to foot on the frozen steel.

“Now let’s see,” Doctor Funtimes said, her steps echoing hollowly as she walked a few paces down the sidewalk. “He parked his car right….over….aha!”

More staring. An Enforcement officer spied him from across the street and frowned. Not one of Fortuity’s victims had ever escaped before, but it had to be a crime. Denying Epics what they wanted was a felony.

“Doctor?” Nathan’s teeth had already begun to chatter. The officer signaled to one on their side of the street, who made his way toward them.

“Hold your seahorses,” she said, and waved her hands broadly over a sleek black convertible with gleaming red leather seats. The convertible changed shape, rounding as its color lightened from black to golden brown.

“Is there a problem here?” The Enforcement officer was still a good ten feet away, but he was well within firing range. Even if he wasn’t, no one could escape their radios.

“There!” Doctor Funtimes skipped back to where he stood and indicated her handiwork. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Fortuity’s car—his beloved convertible, the one he made all his women ooh and ah over—was now a giant metal hot dog on four wheels. Nathan didn’t know what to say.

“Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you a few—“

If the officer finished his sentence, Nathan never heard it. Doctor Funtimes took his arm and, just like that, Newcago was gone.

Screaming. The sound of feet pounding against concrete. Electricity crackling and popping everywhere, filling the air with the smell of ozone.

“You were wrong! Sparks, Sean, you said there would be no Epics! There is clearly an Epic!”

Sean gripped his Louisville Slugger tighter, grimacing towards his radio. He very briefly stuck his head above the chunk of building he was taking cover behind, then yelped and frantically ducked back down, just barely dodging the two-foot metal needle that pierced through the air right where his nose used to be. It circled about for a bit, then flew right back the way it came. Sean exhaled in relief.

“I sparking noticed, Tommy, thank you very much,” Sean muttered to himself, turning his attention back to ‘his’ team. He activated the transmitter on his radio, broadcasting instructions to them: “Alright. Change of plans. Anne, Harris - on my signal, take what you can carry and run for it. Tommy, you’re with me. Distraction duty.” Affirmative sounds filtered through the speakers, concluded by Tommy’s resigned, “Fine.”

Another ionized boom shook the street, closer to him this time, followed by the hoarse over-the-top shouting of the Epic causing it. “Face me! Come, foolish mortals, and face the wrath of Shocksteel!” 

That wasn’t a terrible name, Sean had to admit (he’d heard of a lot worse), but he really did not have the voice to pull off that threatening bellow. He sounded more like a crow hopped up on drugs than, say, Steelheart.

He was dead now, come to think of it. Sparks, it had been more than five months, and he still could barely wrap his head around it. One of the most feared tyrants in North America, a god among - not even men, a god among Epics - dead. Killed, by the Reckoners, a group he’d thought hadn’t even existed before they’d quite publically taken the spotlight. A group consisting only of maples, consistently slaying Epics and getting away with it? It seemed like a fairy tale. Unlikely. 

And yet, it seemed that these were unlikely times, for the Reckoners did hold Newcago, were holding it, had held it against all comers for months, with no signs of being forced to stop. When Harris had finally managed to convince him it wasn’t a hoax, Sean had felt a spark of hope bursting in his chest, piercing through his hard-earned cynicism. 

Maybe things will get better, he’d thought. Perhaps the Epics that had oppressed everyone for far too long would start falling, life would return to that semblance of normalcy he treasured so deeply. Perhaps his sister would finally get to go to high school, do normal high school things, without the grim spectre of death looming over her every minute.

His hopes had risen even further when Doubletake, one of the city’s major crime lords, had fallen under mysterious circumstances in the following days. Following that, after a period of frantic struggles for territory and more Epic fights than he could remember, he’d heard rumors of a meeting, called by Epoch, between all of the city’s major and minor Epics, which seemed like it could only go poorly.

And then, as expected, there’d been some sort of disaster, though he hadn’t the foggiest clue exactly what had happened. What he did know was that every single Epic who’d attended was nowhere to be found, and that meant there were acres of unattended territory, no longer under the yoke of any Epics. Free.

The minute he’d confirmed the news, he’d called Notley, asked her for support. He was going to take his little group - it didn’t have a real name, consisting largely of former students and parents - and take back as much of the city as possible before new Epics, and he wanted the help of the former Albertan government in doing so. She’d agreed.

And so they’d went. Things had gone well, at first, as he and about a hundred others slowly tread through the eastern end of the city. They’d encountered a couple of minor Epics, but, thankfully,  they were nothing that bullets couldn’t handle. There hadn’t even been any casualties. They’d avoided the southeastern end of the city; Pariah had been rampaging there, destroying and murdering wantonly at the time, though it seemed that she’d calmed down nowadays, leading her new faction in the ruins of ERA.

And then Moonglow had shown up, and everything had gone to hell.

He hadn’t been there personally, but he’d heard from the few survivors that she’d staked a claim, right where they were planning on expanding their territory. She and her ‘Lodge’, had expressed no interest in bowing to the ‘irrelevant mortals’, and had enough powerful Epics to make it happen, causing progress to grind to a halt. Notley pulled out the minute there was any sign of resistance, giving up almost all the territory they’d taken, irking Sean to no end, even if it was the logical choice. He’d heard they were currently combating some new corruption Epic, Depravity, just south of the middle part of the city.

And now, he was back to doing what he was doing nine years ago: raiding and pillaging, foraging from abandoned houses for survival, keeping both him and the group alive for just one more day.

It was grueling, hopeless. He wasn’t the only one who felt so, given that a couple people had left to join a cult  with some slontzy name - the Acolytes, that was it. 

Still, the remaining people were looking up to him. So he did his job, going out nearly every day, braving desperate maples and dangerous Epics, hoping to find food and water and weaponry and anything else. 

Earlier that day, Anne had, while scouting, seemingly hit the jackpot. In the cellar of a seemingly-abandoned house, she’d found a large stash of food, weaponry, books, and other stuff. Sean had immediately called everyone in to toss it in the truck and haul it out, only to find that no, the house was not abandoned, and there was, in fact, a very irate Epic living there.

Which they were currently fighting. And by fighting, he meant ‘hiding from’.

Sean took another peek over his makeshift cover, finding that Shocksteel had turned away from him, crackling metal objects orbiting him lazily.

He sighed. Pressed a button on his radio.

“NOW!”

Charged.
 

What Happened in Edmonton (Reboot!)

A new year, a new RP.

To add more characters, simply edit your original post. 

Knox

Silhouette

The Belt:

Orbit

Other notable epics in the Belt:

Three Weeks Ago

Glimmerstrike cursed as Jenn unloaded another round on him.  "I think we are wearing him down, Greg. Grab me another round."   Not wanting to let up, while Greg was grabbing her more ammunition, Jenn snatched a grenade from her belt, pulled the pin, and chucked it in the epic's direction.  The explosive detonated in mid air, no doubt as it came into contact with one of Glimmerstrike's projectiles, but even still it flooded the street with smoke, and when it cleared Jenn was locked and loaded.  

"What's the matter Twilight Sparkle?  Can't finish a fight if your girlfriend's not there to help you out?"  Jenn ducked around the corner for cover before one the light-blades Glimmerslash could generate took off her head.  "I hear some sixth graders are looking for a pitcher for their t-ball team. You should try out. You could use a reality check!"  Judging the angle of Glimmerstrike's next shot, Jenn angled her weapon around the corner and unloaded another magazine in Glimmerstrike's general direction.  

What? she mouthed to Greg, who gave her an incredulous look as he handed her more ammunition.  

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Instead of answering, Jenn loaded her weapon and whipped another grenade around the corner.  Instead of waiting this time, she ducked around the corner and ran, guessing that Glimmerstrike's focus would be on detonating the explosive before it reached him.  Before the smoke could clear, Jenn was already firing, Glimmerstrike reacted quickly, parrying a fair number of bullets with blades of light, but Jenn got two hits in on his right arm and leg.  

Out of ammunition, but knowing she would be sliced and diced if she didn't press her advantage, Jenn lifted her gun to her shoulder and heaved, putting her shot-put talents to  good use for the first time in years.  Glimmerstrike flicked his fingers and yet another shining blade appeared, sawing the gun in half before it could hit him, but Jenn followed after. With a leap, she tackled Glimmerstrike to the ground, and shoved a cocktail wiener from her satchel into his open mouth.  

"That's right, we figured it out.  You had us going with the whole 'vegetarian' thing.  To bad for you we found an archived photo of you at a burger joint shortly before you got your powers.  I hope the burger was worth it" As she spoke, Jenn kept one hand on the epic's jaw, holding it closed as he struggled with his one good arm to push her off.  With her other hand, she took a re-purposed epi-pen from her bag and rammed it into Glimmerstrike's leg. The epic's eyes widened for a moment, and then started to droop.  By the time Jenn reached the count of ten, the sedative had done its work.

"All right Greg.  If you haven't wet yourself you can come out now.  Let's get into position. It's only a matter of time before she realizes we have her boyfriend."

Greg came out from the alley, and started unfolding a stretcher equipped with an anti-gravity motivator from his large pack.  "The comet has burned out," he said, sending the message to the rest of their team that Glimmerstrike had been captured. Jenn helped Greg lift their captive on to the stretcher.  Then, as Greg adjusted the restraints, Jenn took another cocktail wiener from her bag and broke it into tiny pieces. Taking care to ensure Glimmerstrike was in no danger of choking, she carefully placed several pieces in different corners of his mouth.  Then, for good measure, she stuck a couple pieces in his ears, and took a third wiener from her bag to stick up one of his nostrils.

"That's disgusting."  Greg grimaced.

"That's art."  Jenn said. Popping one of the tasty snacks in her own mouth, Jenn whipped out her mobile and took a selfie with Glimmerstrike, nose-meat and all.  "What do you think?"

"Move over Annie Leibovitz."  

"You ready?"  Greg checked the restraints and nodded.  Taking a deep breath, Jenn hit send on her mobile

*****

Greg was trying very hard not to have a panic attack as he wheeled the consort of arguably the most powerful epic in the city through the street with a cocktail wiener sticking out of his nose.  While he couldn't help but be grossed out, Greg had to admit Jenn's method's were effective.  If the woman's most impressive talent was killing things, then making them incredibly angry was likely close behind.  

Even then, as they rushed from corner to corner, Greg couldn't help but marvel.  Taller and more muscular than most women, Greg would have expected her movements to be stiff and awkward, but Jenn moved with the deadly grace of an apex predator.  

She moved like one of them.  

Finally, they reached the arena where Connie and Bryce, two more members of their team, were waiting.  

"What's our status?"  Jenn grabbed a new hair tie and began re-secure the unruly curls which had come loose in her tussle with Glimmerstrike into a tight bun.  

Connie, who was, ostensibly, the team lead for the operation, grimaced at Jenn's easy way of taking command of whatever room she walked into.  "Assuming we have the original identified correctly, she's on the move.  Hard to tell yet if she's heading to where you grabbed him, or to our location.  We have eyes on several of her agents and doubles, but we should be prepared in case some slip through our surveillance."  

"And the site is secure?"

"There were a couple of squatters, but I think I convinced them all to clear out."

"You think?"  Jenn, with her unbridled confidence and titanic sense of self, always had difficulty sympathizing with Bryce's tendency to question everything and avoid decisive answers.   

"The area's as clear as it's going to be Jenn.  I'm sure Bryce did a good job, and we don't have time for another sweep."  Thankfully, Jenn set her jaw and nodded rather than pressing the point further.  It was an old argument, and not one worth hashing out again when they were likely all about to be killed.  Or worse, tortured and then killed.  Or...

Greg shook his head, and did a few mental exercises to keep his rising panic from growing.  They had a plan.  They could do this.  

"Let's go then.  Thanks for the back-up, babe."  Greg rolled his eyes in response to Jenn's playful wink and finger-gunning.  Grabbing the hover-plank with her free hand, Jenn took off into the arena and started making her way out on to the field.  

"Well, I guess that means the rest of us should get into position."  With Jenn gone, Connie didn't bother to mask her frustration.  "Move out."  

*****

While she waited, Jenn amused herself by hiding her remaining cocktail wieners in Glimmerstrike's pockets, and taking more selfies to send to Doubletake.  

"So, little human, you think it's wise to mock one who should be your Goddess, do you?"  

Jenn turned towards the voice, but, predictably, found no body to associate with it.  Titan, one of Doubletake's favourite lieutenants, had a limited invisibility power, and could only be seen if the observer was within two meters of her.  Usually by the time anyone saw her, Titan was already in the process of crushing them.  

"A Goddess who's too scared to come and rescue her boyfriend in person?  I think a little mockery is the least of her concern."  As she spoke, Jenn notice a glimmering silver mist beginning to materialize on the ground around her.  

"Jenn..."  Jenn pulled out her ear piece before Connie or Greg could voice their concerns.  They had waited too long to let the Dream Storm stop them now.  

"Oh, she's here.  Even now she's likely killing off your comrades, one by one.  You didn't think you could trick an epic with precognitive abilities into such an obvious trap, did you?"  

It's only a trap if we guessed her weakness correctly.  The mist had shifted in colour slightly, becoming a light blue, and had thickened as it spread out to cover the entire field.  The storm would start soon.  "A trap?  If you say so."

"What else would you call kidnapping her consort and taunting her with images of him?  Don't think you'll secure any ransom.  Doubletake has given me the honour of personally destroying you, and I do not intend to fail her now."  The voice was close.  Jenn slowly began to shift her stance, trying to keep an eye out in every direction at once, preparing herself for Titan to strike.  

"You epics are all the same.  Always thinking everything revolves around you."  Jenn lifted her gun and shot Glimmerstrike between the eyes.  Diving to the side, with a handgun in each hand, Jenn fired in the direction where she had heard Titan call out from.  That was the direction I heard her in, right?  All around her, tiny droplets of blue light were starting rise upwards from the ground, falling towards the sky.  Frowning, Jenn continued to watch her surroundings and replaced her ear piece.  

"Calamity take you Jennifer, what were you thinking?"  

"Glad you are still alive too."  Jenn fired a few more shots in a direction she thought she heard overgrown turf rustling.     

"Greg and Bryce have engaged a couple of doubles, but we don't think we've encountered the original yet".  

"Are we sure she's here?" Jenn continued to scan her surroundings searching for any hint of Titan's location.  Titan did not have a prime invincibility, and aside from her limited invisibility, her only defensive power was tied to emotion.  She would be cautious about engaging someone like Jenn.  

"Fairly certain."  After the initial burst of anger, Connie's voice was calm and collected.  "If not she'll want to confirm Glimmerstrike's death personally.  He's really dead, right?"

Jenn didn't answer and fired a few more warning shots, trying to be mindful about saving her ammunition.  

"Jenn?"

"With any luck she won't get to me, right?  Let's just keep her inside and off the field."  Jenn pretended to fiddle with her mobile, hoping that a percieved moment of inattention would draw Titan into an attack.  Jenn felt an unnatural chill creeping down her spine.  The Dream Storm had started in full now, millions of droplets of light were rising from the ground, painting ghostly constellations in the sky as they reached their destination.  It was beautiful.  

What was she doing again?

"Jenn?"  

Jenn shook her head.  "You're going to need to walk me through this Connie.  The storm's getting worse."  

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?  We have contingencies for this."  

"No, just keep talking to me."  

"Here, let's try something, say 'Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake'".

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"

Jenn heard a few sharp clicks as Connie's hands flew across the keys.  She was on site, but hidden.  Doubletake shouldn't be able to find her.  "There."

In the background, Jenn's voice began to play back to her, on loop, through her ear piece.  "Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?  Watch for Titan kill Doubletake? . . ."

You can do this Jenn.  Just focus.  Focus on . . . what was it again?  

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"   

Right!  I need to keep watching.  

"Connie?  Still there?"

Connie didn't answer. Jenn frowned.  "Greg, Bryce?"  They were close by, weren't they?  Was there a reason they could not talk?  

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"   

Jenn reoriented herself, and continued to scan her surroundings.  If Titan was still in the field at all, it would seem she was playing things safe, no doubt waiting for back up.  Back up.  I need back-up!  "Connie?  Greg?  Bryce?  Are you there?  Do you copy?"

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"   

"Oh right, I'm watching.  Why am I talking out loud?"  Jenn continued to scan her surroundings.  If Titan was still in the field at all, it would seem she was playing things safe, no doubt waiting for back up.  "I need. . . actually no.  No back-up needed.  Do you. . . need back up?"  What am I supposed to be doing again?

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"   

Jenn scanned her surroundings, finding a corpse.  After a moment of panic, she realized it was Glimmerstrikes.  Is he dead?  

" . . . kill Doubletake?"

A siren went off in interior of the stadium building.  

"Your friends are putting on quite the show in there."

Jenn frowned, turning to find an imposing looking woman in a skin tight leotard and trendy leather jacket standing before her.  "Doubletake."

"Watch for Titan, kill Doubletake?"   

"They are setting of their little strobe lights in there as we speak.  Meant to trap me, no?  Clever of you to figure out my weakness.  To bad for you I saw through your little game."  

"Game?  I . . ."  I'm in a sports field, right?  What's the game again?

"My associates will see to your friends and those pesky lights.  I won't be trapped here long.  You, however, won't survive long enough to see that happen."

Jenn fired several shots at Doubletake, but the epic dodged each shot effortlessly, relying on her precognition an enhanced reflexes.  

"Don't worry, I owe you some extra pain and suffering for what you did to Glimmerstrike.  I might not have time to make it last, but I will make sure it hurts."  Jenn spun to face a new voice, finding another Doubletake, rising from where she was inspecting Glimmerstrike's body.  The plan. . . there's something about the plan . . .

"Getting confused?  I'm . . . I'm confused . . ."  The first Doubletake frowned, and then vanished.  

"I hope you weren't depending on the storm to get me," the second Doubletake said, beginning to circle Jenn.  "I can dismiss my doubles at will as they get confused.  As long as I stay out of it, I'm in perfect control."  

Control . . . "Connie are you there?"

"Your friends won't answer you.  Like I said, my associates are hunting them down as we speak."  A third Doubletake approached, carrying a knife in her hand.  

" . . . kill Doubletake?"

Jenn fired on the Doubletake with the knife.  Instead of dodging, the double just vanished.  

"Why bother?"  A new Doubletake approached out of the storm.  "You know I'll just keep coming."  This time, she did dodge Jenn's shots.  "Poor little Reckoner, lost, alone, confused."  Jenn continued to fire, but Doubletake dodged every one until she was within reach of Jenn.  Despite Jenn's fuddled mind, her instincts took over, reacting to Doubletake's movements.  She tried her best to fend the epic off, but Doubletake anticipated her every move, and soon she found herself disarmed and on the ground, with little recollection of how she got there.

Why am I here?

"All right, now for the fun."

"Don't hurt her!"

Doubletake and Jenn both turned to the edge of the field, where a ten year old girl stood, watching them.  There's not supposed to be anyone here.  But why is that?  Doubletake rolled her eyes, and, ignoring the girl strode up to Jenn to finish what she started.   

All at once, the entire arena lit up with bright, sporadic, flashes of light.  The Doubletake who was standing over Jenn vanished, but another one remained not far away, also with a knife in her hand, and a look of terror in her eyes.  

" . . . kill Doubletake?"

I need to kill Doubletake.  Snarling, ignoring her fallen guns, Jenn jumped to her feet and charged at the epic.  Doubletake's movements seemed slow and lethargic, and while Jenn took a cut to the arm, she managed to disarm her opponent in moments.  Jenn's earpiece was ripped out as the two women fell to the ground in a tangled heap, each savagely struggling for advantage.  For survival.  After a time, Jenn began to lose any sense of who she was or who she was fighting.  She fought instinctively, driven only by her intense desire to survive.  

And to win.  

She was choking a dead woman.  

Jenn rose to her feet, and backed away from the corpse before her.  Who was that woman?  Did I kill her?  

"YOU!"  Jenn spun, turning to face the new threat.  Titan stood before her, now visible, her face contorted in rage.  I'm supposed to be watching Titan, aren't I?  But she's right there.  

"YOU KILLED HER!"  As she screamed, Titan began to grow in size.  Normally, Titan was limited in how much she could increase her size, but in the grips of strong emotion, her known limits were removed, and she could grow to an incredible size.  Soon, a giantess stood before Jenn, standing nearly as tall as the highest seats in the stadium.  

I'm in a stadium.  Am I playing a game?  

"No, don't hurt her!"  A little girl stood on the sidelines, and was running out into the field.  The referee should really keep the fans under control.  

Towering above her, Titan screamed and drove her fist downwards, no doubt intending to crush Jenn, and most of the surrounding area, into a mushy, turfy pulp.  

The girl cried out, and the giantess disintegrated.  Instead of being crushed by a rapidly descending fist, Jenn closed her eyes as she was shrouded in a giant cloud of colourless dust.  Jenn frowned.  Where am I?  A girl strode over, her face wide with surprise.  "Don't tell anyone I did that okay?  They can't know.  You'll be safe now."  

"What?"  Jenn shook her head, trying to clear it.  "Who are you?  Where's your mom, you little brat?"  

The girl stuck out her tongue.  "I am not a brat!  I just saved your life!  No remember, don't tell anyone!"  The girl turned and ran off into the storm.  

Who was that?

. . .

Where am I?  

She was in a field, somewhere.  An arena?  And there were. . . lights, everywhere, rising from the ground.  The Dream Storm.  

"I'm cold," Jenn said, to no one in particular.  Not knowing what else to do, she began walking towards the edge of the field, and hurried inside.  

*****

Jeremy Roberts was startled awake when every alarm in his safe house sounded at once.  Trying to clear the sleep from his head, Jeremy turned to his mobile.  

Doubletake and Glimmerstrike are dead.  Titan is missing.  Initiate contingency plan omega.  Jeremy's eyes widened, Doubletake, his boss, and the woman he lived in constant fear of, along with her most trusted epics, were either dead or missing.  I could run, take this information to one of the other leaders, and gain a good position!  Jeremy hesitated, considering his options.  Orbit would never accept him, or if he did, the members of the Belt would betray or kill him as soon as they got the chance.  Typhon would likely kill him on the spot, the Government of Alberta was doomed, and even if they weren't, they would never accept a 'traitor' like Jeremy.  For all he knew about the epic of the Black Forcefield, he would die as soon as he entered, and Epoch . . . well, once Epoch learned what Jeremy knew, nothing would stop the epic from destroying him.  

Doubletake had other prominent lieutenants.  One of them will take control, and when they do they will reward me.  There was also the matter of Doubletake's newest ally, who could possible be convinced to come and secure the city.  With resignation, still not sure if he was making the correct decision, Jeremy opened a restricted file from his hard drive and sent it out to all the mobiles in Edmonton. 

*****

THREAD SUMMARY - FROM THE RECKONERS FILES

Currently up: Whatever the heck you want. I expect many ponies.

(And don't be too serious now. These are fanfics of a fanfic, after all. ) 

To get the ball rolling, I have made a few memes from the first page of posts in the Portland thread.

Enforcement officers outside Fortuity's penthouse in the OP:

CorpseMaker at the end of The Only Joe's 2nd post:

Nathan after spending a few hours with Doctor Funtimes:

And Then They Died

Revised as needed

Criteria: To be placed on this list, an Epic must exhibit not only callousness, but a longstanding commitment to atrocities. The Epic in Question must be not only consistently portrayed as ruthless, but as enjoying their ruthlessness—taking typical Epic corruption so far past the bounds of morality that they are unquestionably irredeemable. Said Epic must glory in things decent societies deem reprehensible, including (but by no means limited to): torture, murder, sexual harassment, psychological manipulation (including subjecting a family member to reprehensible acts in order to gain control of someone), stalking, etc. Epics on this list must have demonstrably crossed the Moral Event Horizon, preferably with an evil laugh and/or creepy remark as they plummeted into the abyss.

Members: Oregon Chapter

Repeat offenders given multiple entries

Nighthound
Lightwards
Nighthound
Electro
CorpseMaker
Quota
Lucentia
Nighthound
Lightwards
Lucentia
Koschei
Electro
Quota
Bloody Mary
Neverthere
Timeport
Nighthound
Blackwave
Lucentia
Nighthound
Timeport
Miner
Nighthound
Timeport
Ironmonger
Quicksilver
Electro
Nighthound
Quota
Nighthound
Blackwave
Quota
Deathwish
Impact
Timeport
Iconoclast
Hypno
Bloody Mary
Drainer
Nighthound
Nighthound
Lucentia
Countdown
Iconoclast
Impact
Quicksilver

Ivystorm 

Necropathy

Pain

Taylor Swift 

Nighthound

Lucentia

Bioterror

Nighthound

Foodstock
Metronome*

*We didn't want him to feel bad.

(Since there is a discussion currently ongoing in the other thread, I'll leave it open so people can quote from it; but please move the discussion to this thread.  ) 

 
It was a beautiful day.  They were standing on what had once been the Harrison Street Bridge, with the Williamette River glittering in the sunlight below them.  Then again, it was almost always a beautiful day in Corvallis.  That was part of the city’s charm.  Rainmaker was proving herself to be a comparatively benevolent ruler.  Her rages, though terrifying, were rare, meaning that most days in Corvallis were clear and sunny. 
 
”Five minutes until arrival”  Good, things were on schedule.  Euphoria made a few notations on her clip-board, and then looked up to survey the assembled crowd.  They were a downtrodden lot, both Epics and Vanillas alike.  You could pick all but the least powerful of Epics out, of course.  There was something in their posture, in the very way they held themselves that seemed to say, ”I have power, and you do not.” 
 
Euphoria, of course, was one of those epics, though she took care not to seem like one.  Her position within the city was precarious, even with Rainmaker’s protection.  Rainmaker was careful to avoid antagonizing other high epics, but many were coming to resent the power that she and Euphoria held.  Even within Corvallis, there were whispers of rebellion and betrayal filtering through city’s elite.  Rainmaker and Euphoria were providing lives of peace and luxury that few could claim to rival in the days since the rise of Calamity, but the populace resented them for it.   Rainmaker spared no expense when more powerful Epics chose to move to the city.  They were given everything: the best residences, any possession they could possibly desire, and, of course, more Vanillas than they knew what to do with.  Still, they whispered and plotted behind closed doors, inexplicably hoping that the person responsible for their wealth and comfort would fall.
 
“The immigrants are ready,” Euphoria said, speaking into the mic attached to her lapel.  Both the mic and her earpiece connected wirelessly to her mobile.  She caught sight of one man, staring skeptically up at the stage and podium, no doubt wondering if the mythical Queens of Corvallis could possibly live up to what was claimed of them.  Scanning the crowd for further signs of discontent, Euphoria switched channels to speak to one of her agents.  “Back right hand corner, green jacket.  Needs a dose.  Just a little for now though.  Keep your eyes on him when Rainmaker arrives.”  Euphoria would save using her powers herself for Rainmaker’s arrival.  For now, they wanted to build excitement and anticipation, but it was Rainmaker’s speech and entrance that they really wanted the new arrivals to associate with their new-found happiness. 
 
“Euphoria paging Reynolds.  What’s Bubbles’s status?”   Euphoria waited impatiently for the agent she had on Buttercup’s team to reply.  When it came, Reynolds voice was labored and he was breathing heavily.  Likely he had forgotten his mobile somewhere again and left it unnoticed until he heard Euphoria’s page.  ”We are in position at HQ.  The shield is back up.”  Euphoria switched channels on her mobile, not bothering to reward Reynold’s tardy reply with a response of her own. 
 
Euphoria continued to scan the crowd, giving minor instructions here and there, doing her best to ensure everything would be perfect when Rainmaker arrived.  Though she never caught anyone’s gaze, she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched.  It’s just your paranoia talking.  You’re invisible up here.  As was her custom, she wore standard business attire, with a matching blazer and loose fitting pants, a white blouse, and stylish but sensible heels.  Her hair was tucked back in a simple bun, and she was wearing her trademark thick-framed glasses.  To any observer, she should seem to be one bureaucrat among many, just doing her job to prepare for Rainmaker’s arrival. 
 
Unless someone already knew what she looked like.
 
The crowd fell silent as thunder rumbled in the distance.  Rainmaker was coming.  A gentle wind rose up around them and swirled through the crowd, playfully tugging at loose fitting hats and stray locks of hair.  Then, there was a flash of light in the sky above them, accompanied by another rumble of thunder in the distance. 
 
If Rainmaker loved anything it was theatrics. 
 
A cloud appeared where the flash of light had been only a moment before, seemingly out of nowhere.  Then, out of the cloud, came Rainmaker, accompanied by a supernaturally bright ray of sunlight lighting her path down to the earth.  Her skin was shining with a gentle glow, and rainbows danced in the sky around her.
 
“Dose all targets.”  Euphoria took a breath and unleashed her power on the crowd, hitting them with a powerful dose of positive emotion.  It was difficult to affect a crowd of this size effectively, which is why her agents would be targeting specific individuals.  The sooner potential trouble makers learned to crave Euphoria’s power, the easier they would be to control later on.  While Euphoria was never entirely comfortable with her powers, using them in this way made her feel whole and complete.  She could not affect her own emotions of course, but affecting the emotions of others made her feel in control, and helped to keep her feelings of anxiety and paranoia at bay. 
 
Rainmaker touched down, and a strong gust of wind rushed out into the crowd.  Standing behind the high epic on stage, Euphoria only felt the faintest of breezes, but judging by sight alone the gust Rainmaker had hit the crowd with had been stronger than the playful breeze she had used before.  The effects of Rainmaker’s powers were extremely localized.  If she wanted, Rainmaker could create a tornado next to a playground and not harm a single child.  Rainmaker spread her hands out to either side as a gesture of welcome, and as she did more rainbows appeared, seeming to flow out from her outstretched arms to dance among the crowd. 
 
This was the Goddess of Corvallis.  Rainmaker was a true High Epic in all her glory.  So why was it that Euphoria’s name was the one people whispered about?
 
Euphoria knew it was her own fall and disgrace that the other epics of Corvallis hoped for, not Rainmaker’s.  Rainmaker was easily understood.  She was incredibly powerful, and so less powerful epics followed her to enjoy the benefits of her power and protection.  Rainmaker seemed custom-designed to succeed in the world that Calamity had created.  Euphoria, if she was anything, was the opposite.  She had no form of invincibility, and no offensive capabilities to speak of.  Despite this, the epics of Corvallis and the surrounding area found her more threatening than even Rainmaker.  It was her power, after all, that kept the Vanilla population docile and under control.  Corvallis would not be what it was without her, and everyone knew it.  And so, the other epics whispered to each other, no doubt wondering when the mysterious Euphoria would choose to take back everything she had given them, and what they could do to prevent that eventuality. 
 
Rainmaker launched directly into her speech, welcoming the new Epics and Vanillas to Corvallis, her little slice of paradise.  After the welcome, the newcomers would be taken to their new homes.  Epics would be given residences that suited their power levels and usefulness to Rainmaker, likely within Corvallis proper unless they preferred to live on one of the acreages in the surrounding area.  The Vanillas would be taken to be processed by more of Euphoria’s agents.  There, the rules of the city would be explained to them, each of them would receive a full dose of Euphoria’s power, and  be told to expect more if they performed well at their work.  Then, based on their skills and experience, they would be assigned either to serve a particular epic, or to work in Cornucopia’s fields, harvesting the goods that supplied the city. 
 
“Before Calamity, those people who told me that my dreams of a better world would never come true, also told me that happiness could not be bought or earned, and that we were all hapless victims of fate.”  Euphoria prepared herself as Rainmaker’s speech started coming to a close.   “Well, my fate has given me the power to change all that, a power I now wish to use in service of you, new citizens of Corvallis.  So come, lay down your cares and your woes, for they are things from other times and places.  You all have a home in Corvallis now, and by working together, we can all build a better and brighter future.”  As Rainmaker finished, she once again began shining, and Euphoria unleashed all the happiness she could onto the crowd, trusting her agents to do the same.  Rainmaker, still shining with rainbows dancing in the sky around her, began to ascend back into the sky, radiant, triumphant, divine, as her new subjects showered her with applause.  . 
 
As the crowd gazed up adoringly at their new goddess, Euphoria continued to watch the crowd, searching for signs of discontent or malice.  A young woman caught her eye.  As everyone around her was cheering for Rainmaker, the woman was looking down, reaching into a large suitcase she kept by her feet. 
 
Wait a minute…  “Security Team B, we have a shooter.”  The woman removed an enormous looking gun from the bag, and lifted it to her shoulder in one smooth motion.  How in Calamity had she gotten that past their metal detectors?   “Center crowd, female, bright red sweater.  I repeat we have a shooter.”  Euphoria felt her body guards stiffen as they caught sight of weapon.  What did that thing do, anyways?  Despite her recent lessons at the shooting range, Euphoria couldn’t do much beyond telling a handgun from a rifle. 
 
“Begin evacuation maneuvers, and ensure the security of all Tier 1 epics.  I repeat…”  Euphoria was cut off as her body guards jointly tackled her, throwing all three of them off the stage.  A second later, the entire construct exploded.  Euphoria remained pinned to the ground, shielded from the worst of the blast by her less vulnerable body guards.  Bulletproof was impervious to any damage caused by any kind of gun, no matter how indirect, and Decoy had healing abilities that would help her recover from the blast. 
 
A form leaped out of the wreckage.  Though she was now twice as tall and probably three times as wide, the gun on her shoulder helped Euphoria to recognize her as the woman from the crowd.  Along with being huge, the woman’s skin seemed to either be coated with or entirely composed of metal. 
 
“Euphoria!”  The metal-epic shouted, leveling her weapon and pointing it in Euphoria’s direction.  “Your reign here is OVE-uh?”  Euphoria felt a strong wind rise around her, but the wind she felt was nothing compared to the one that threw the metal epic several feet into the air and then slammed her into the ground.   The gun was carried over the side of the bridge and into the river.  The sky above them was already darkening, growing so thick with clouds that the sun was blocked out completely, and the only lights to be seen came from the city. 
 
A low hanging cloud burst into sudden radiance and Rainmaker rematerialized, shining with rage.  Her light revealed the crowd, scrambling away for safety, as well as the metal-epic, who seemed to be pinned in place as she was buffeted by gale force winds from all sides. 
 
“Euphoria, come on, we need to get you out of here.  She knew who you were, and there could be others…”  Euphoria removed her heels, and helped herself to her feet, choosing not to take the hand Decoy offered. 
 
“Okay,” Euphoria said, trying to keep the fear from her voice.  “Let’s go.” 
 
 

 
As the last of the new immigrants got clear of the scene, Rainmaker unleashed all of her pent up rage and frustration, calling dozens of lighting bolts down from above to strike the enemy who had dared to ruin her welcome speech.  Whoever this metal-epic was, Rainmaker would see to it that she paid for failing to fear Rainmaker’s wrath.   Rainmaker angrily ripped her ear piece from her ear—any messages were being drowned out by the sound of her thunder anyways—and continued her assault, lettering the winds that held the metal epic in place alternate between bone-chilling cold and blistering heat.   Above, she worked the winds to create hail stones, some the size of cars.  When they were ready, she sent them crashing down as well, pelting the metal epic with giant blocks of ice, before beginning a new assault with more lightning.  
 
As the last of her new citizens cleared the area, some fleeing back the way they had come, others crossing the bridge to the other side and entering the city, Rainmaker’s troops, opened fire on the enemy.  They were all accustomed to working in darkness, but between Rainmaker and Calamity, the bridge was brilliantly lit.  Snipers popped up on the nearby Van Buren Bridge, peppering the metal-skinned epic with fire from their rifles. 
 
“It will take more than that to do me in, weather witch!” the puny epic shouted through gritted teeth.  “I can withstand any thing you can throw at me!  Come on, hit me with your best shot!” 
 
Rainmaker bristled with rage, and again she sent down strike  after strike of lightening, feeling her frustration grow as each strike failed to leave even a scorch mark on the epic’s metal skin.  It doesn’t matter she told herself.  Even if she couldn’t personally damage the epic, her winds seemed to be sufficient to keep the metal-skinned annoyance trapped.  If none of her powers would work, she could call in one of her retrieval teams with powerful restraints, and lock the intruder up until they could find a way to bypass her invincibility.  Yes Rainmaker thought, as she brought down another round of hail stones.  ”I’ve already won.  Her vibrant glow lessened slightly as she calmed herself. 
 
Below her, metal skin continued to look up at her, grinning like a maniac.  Why would she be smiling?  She must know she’s lost.  Poor thing, perhaps losing has driven her mad.  Rainmaker certainly wouldn’t be smiling if she were in the same situation.  The way the epic was smiling, it almost reminded Rainmaker of the Vanillas who served her, smiling and humming to themselves as they catered to Rainmaker’s every whim.  Once, wanting to test what lengths the Vanillas would take to have another taste of Euphoria’s power, Rainmaker had used her slaves as furniture for a day, requiring them to kneel on all fours  while she used them as benches and coffee tables.  Even then, they had been smiling, totally in Euphoria’s thrall…
 
Euphoria!  Rainmaker jammed her earpiece back in, switching her attacks to solely hailstones so that she could hear.  “Bulletproof, I need your location.  I have metal skin under control, but I think she might not be working alone.  Expect another attack at any moment, and know that if they manage to harm a hair on Euphoria’s head, I will hold you personally responsible.”
 
Rainmaker flew off into the city, shouting instructions to her security teams into her mobile, warning them to keep an eye on metal skin, but not to engage her until Rainmaker returned or something changed.  The winds and hailstones would continue in her absence, and should be able to keep metal-skin pinned down.  In the mean-time, Rainmaker had another target to see to, before it was too late. 
 
 

 
“Rainmaker seems to think there might be another attacker.”  Bulletproof was saying.  He was driving, while Decoy and Euphoria sat in the back seat.  “It’s possible we are being watched.”  Other cars holding members of Euphoria’s security team were driving in front and behind them.  Her team was filled with Corvallis’s best, consisting of both epics and Vanillas, all armed to the teeth, incredibly dangerous, and ready to risk their lives for her. 
 
For some reason, that did not make Euphoria feel safer in the slightest. 
 
“Any updates on Bubbles?”  Euphoria gratefully accepted a new pair of glasses from Decoy.  Her old ones had broken when she was pushed from the stage. 
 
“She’s reached her bunker.  Buttercup is with her, so she should be fine.  Cornucopia is with her team at the Arboretum.  They are on the look-out for any danger, but right now it seems like only the city itself is under attack.”  What you mean is, it’s just me who is under attack. 
 
With a new pair of glasses, Euphoria could finally read again, so she turned to her tablet computer and began searching through the city’s data base of Epics.  “Do we have any idea who the Iron Maiden was?  She seemed dependent on the gun to attack at range, but she might be hiding other abilities.”
 
Decoy was about to respond but was interrupted when the lights from the car behind them suddenly swerved off course, and all of their mobiles went off at once with messages and alerts. 
 
”We are being pursued by another car, he’s trying to drive us off the road!”
 
“Roger,” said Bulletproof as he stepped on the gas.  “Car A, are you hearing this?  Get Earthrumble out there, and see if she can slow this guy down!” 
 
Instead of a verbal response, the ground behind them began to shake, breaking the pavement and stopping both the other members of their team, and the unfamiliar vehicle who was chasing them, in their tracks. 
 
“Decoy, you better be ready just in case.”  Decoy nodded and, taking Bulletproof’s instruction, she reached out to take Euphoria’s hand in her own.  After a brief moment of hesitation, Euphoria accepted Decoy’s hand, and felt a tingle run down her spine as the link was established. 
 
“We’re ready,” Decoy said, giving Euphoria an encouraging smile.  “Don’t worry, they can’t hurt you now.” 
 
The sound of gunshots and epic powers being used echoed behind them. 
 
”He’s out of the car!  We’re trying to hit him, but he’s too fast.  Definitely has super speed, and possibly some form of precognition, though it’s difficult to tell…  Ugh, no, argh…”
 
“Dammit, they got Smith.”  Bulletproof cranked the wheel, turning off onto a side street, heading to the University, where the Corvallis guard would be waiting for them. 
 
A man appeared in front of them suddenly, seeming to blur into focus as he stopped moving.  The headlights of the car lit up his smile and the whites of his eyes before he vanished again. 
 
Suddenly, Euphoria felt a hand on her shoulder, and found herself being thrown from the speeding car.  She tumbled a few times in the street before coming to a stop, losing her second pair of glasses in the process.  Thankfully, the link to Decoy protected her from any harm.  As long as she stayed in range, she would be fine.
 
“Resilient eh?  Has Lady Euphoria been hiding some secret abilities from us all this time?”  Euphoria swung around to face her attacker, but before she could get a look at him she found herself flying backwards through the air.  The wind left her lungs as she slammed into the wall of a nearby building, but the link protected her from any further harm. 
 
“Get away from her!”  Bulletproof shouting, his fists glowing in the darkness.  His secondary power allowed him to cause any substance to burst into flame with a single touch, which, combined with his invulnerability to ranged weapons, made him a deadly combatant. 
 
“Sorry hot-stuff, not today.”  Again, the assailant moved faster than Euphoria’s eyes could track.  Bulletproof swung his fists wildly, trying to get in a hit.  A single finger graze would be all it took to end things.  Decoy stood nearby, using the car for cover while she took aim and fired, trying to land a hit.
 
Three shots echoed from Decoy’s gun before Bulletproof collapsed onto the street, bleeding from a dozen carefully placed stab wounds.  The light from his fists flickered out.  Decoy was next, not even getting a fourth shot in before she too fell to the ground.  The attacker had left his knife lodged in Decoy’s throat so she could not heal.  A few seconds later, Euphoria felt the link fade. 
 
It’s finally happening.  I’m going to die.
 
Euphoria reached for her own gun, but it was knocked from her hand before she could turn the safety off.  Her assailant grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground.  Now that he had stopped moving, she could finally get a good look at him.  He was about her age, and handsome in the way that many epics were, with dark curly hair and darker eyes.  A knife glimmered in his long, slender fingers. 
 
“And now, Euphoria, Queen of Corvallis, allow me to introduce you to your untimely end…” 
 
Euphoria acted by instinct the moment his hand touched her skin and stayed there, forcing all the power she had through the hand he held her throat with.  She knew nothing about him, so she rewrote his history blind, forcing him to despise what he had been doing the last few days, and himself because of it.  Knife raised, he hesitated as the self-loathing he now remembered feeling caused him to question his current actions.  The contact continued, and days turned into weeks.  Euphoria began to struggle for air, but forced herself to concentrate, watching the inner turmoil grow behind his eyes. 
 
Suddenly, she found herself on the ground again.  This time, she didn’t have the link to Decoy to protect her, and so she felt ever bump and scrape as she tumbled down the street, collapsing in a heap on the ground.  Her entire body ached with a dozen small cuts and bruises, but for the moment, it seemed like she would be all right. 
 
Not that it would do her any good. 
 
The attacker stood across from her, his eyes wide with rage, the knife still glimmering in his hand.  It would seem he had realized what she was doing to him.  Now it would only be a matter of time before he reoriented himself, and realized that he did, in fact, still want to kill her. 
 
“You…” 
 
Euphoria shot up into the air, carried by a stream of warm wind rising upward.  At the same time, what seemed like dozens of lightning bolts flashed at once, blinding Euphoria with their radiance, and deafening her with the thunder that followed.   When her vision cleared, she was on a nearby rooftop, while her assailant was lying still in an unrecognizable blackened mass on the ground. 
 
The darkened sky cleared, and daylight returned to the city.  Rainmaker landed on the rooftop next to Euphoria, with a gentle smile on her face. 
 
“Such a shame,” she said, “I’m still waiting for the day when an Epic will be able to outrun my lighting.”
 

*****

 
After Skinsaver had seen to the worst of Euphoria’s injuries, and the city was determined to be secure, Euphoria made her way to Rainmaker’s office, with new bodyguards in tow.  The metal epic, apparently named the Iron Ogress, had been drowned.  To make it work, they had needed to wire her mouth open after an Epic with super strength managed to pry her jaws apart.   Her partner, who apparently called himself Fast-Forward, had been killed instantly by Rainmaker’s lightning.   For the moment, it would seem like the attackers, both new comers, were working alone, but Euphoria still couldn’t shake the feeling she was being hunted. 
 
“Ah, Euphoria, I’ve been expecting you.”  Rainmaker gestured and one of her slaves brought up a chair for Euphoria to take while another was standing ready with a cup of tea.  All of the Vanillas in the room had the overly bright smiles and dazed expressions that were becoming characteristic of those who were constantly under Euphoria’s influence.  While some of the lesser epics in the city had to scrimp and save the happiness that was allotted to them through Euphoria’s agents to reward their servants for good behaviour, Rainmaker’s entire staff were kept blissful by a near constant supply. 
 
“Now dear, how are you doing?”   Rainmaker was reclining on a plush divan, and had exchanged one of the sparkling outfits she wore in public for a comfortable looking silk robe.  A slave was brushing her long dark hair while another one massaged her feet.  “I do hope you have recovered from that grisly attack today.  I trust Skinsaver treated you well?” 
 
“Yes of course.  I’m fit as a fiddle.”  Euphoria waved away the cup of tea.  Fearing poison, she had gotten into the habit of only consuming food and beverages she prepared herself.  “I did want to talk to you though.  This attack felt… different from the others.”  Euphoria shuddered, once again feeling Fast-Forward’s phantom fingers clutch at her throat. 
 
“Oh?”  Rainmaker took a sip of tea, an amused expression playing across her features.  Of course she’s amused.  Rainmaker was virtually indestructible.  Even the government, back when they still exercised some power, had been unable to find a way to kill her.  How else would a being with that kind of power react when confronted with the fear of death? 
 
“We’re exposed here,” Euphoria continued, trying to keep her voice from trembling.  “Perhaps we should hunker down for a while, stop allowing new immigrants in.  Reports from our agents indicate word of Corvallis,” And of me, “Is spreading across the state.  It’s only a matter of time before we attract the attention of someone more powerful.  We’ve been lucky up until now, but what if word travels out of state, and someone like Steelheart or Obliteration chooses to attack us?”
 
Rainmaker burst out laughing.  Euphoria felt her cheeks colour, both out of embarrassment and frustration.  How dare Rainmaker laugh in her face, after everything she had done. 
 
“I’m sorry dear,” Rainmaker finally replied, dabbing a tear from her eye, “You’re just so precious.  You know as well as I how high an opinion I like to have of myself, but even I know that, for the moment, we are far below the notice of Steelheart and Obliteration.  Maybe if we were controlling Portland we might grab their attention, but they have bigger things to worry about than the tenth largest city in Oregon of all places.  As things stand, Portland remains divided and in chaos, and there are no other cities in the state that are big enough to attract the attention of anyone important .  Why do you think I chose Corvallis of all places for our little experiment, hmmm?  Remember the plan.  Another year or so here should be sufficient to work out all the kinks in our system.  Then, when the time is right, we can make our move to somewhere larger, and be ready for anything those tyrants want to throw our way.”
 
Euphoria forced herself to smile.  “Yes of course, you’re right as always.  I’m sorry I let my paranoia get to me.  I must still be a little frazzled from the attack.” 
 
“Tell you what, how about you take tomorrow off?  We’ll reschedule the appointments you have tomorrow and spread them out over the next couple of days.  I’ll send by some of your agents in the morning to get extra doses to distribute, and you can stay home and just relax.  Have a massage, take a bath, read a book, do anything that can get your mind off of this grisly business.  We can talk about our public response to this attack on Tuesday, once you’ve recovered.” 
 
“Thank-you, Rainmaker.”  Euphoria knew when and when not to question Rainmaker’s ‘advice’.  It was clear there would be no changing the High Epics mind.  She was determined to see their little experiment through.  “You know, I think you’re right.  A nice bubble bath and a good book might be just what I need.”
 

PRESENT DAY

 
Euphoria was awake before the alarm on her mobile went off, but she hit snooze anyways.  It had been two weeks since the attack, and still she had trouble getting out of bed.  All the safe-guards she had designed to protect her identity seemed foolishly flimsy now.  After all, how easy would be to bribe one of the thirty or so people who knew her true identity?  Could any vetting process really secure someone’s loyalty?  Who really knew how many of her trusted staff had been placed in her company with the sole purpose of finding a way to destroy her? 
 
Fifteen minutes later, one of her servants arrived with the outfit she had chosen for the coming day freshly laundered and pressed, inquiring when she would be down for breakfast.  Euphoria didn’t know why her staff still bothered keeping track of her morning schedule; she prepared her own food anyways, mostly eating food picked straight from the trees Cornucopia had grown in Euphoria’s own personal garden.  Even a slice of bread buttered by foreign hands had the potential to be poisoned.  Even eating food from Cornucopia’s trees had become a source of anxiety for Euphoria, and she had to constantly tell herself that Cornucopia, at least, was on her side and would not betray her. 
 
She decided which food she would pick for the day—some eggs and veggies for an omelet for breakfast maybe, then a vegetable wrap for lunch—while she showered and got dressed.  She was picking a bottled water from a potted bottle-of-water plant when she heard the sound of her door opening.  When she turned, she was surprised to see an all too familiar face.  I knew someone was watching me!
 
“It’s you…”
 
 

 
“We can’t find her anywhere, your majesty.  She’s vanished.”
 
Rainmaker stood on her balcony, and felt herself begin to shine with fury.   “How could she have just vanished without a trace?  Her home was fully staffed, well-guarded, and its location was supposed to be a complete secret.  A secret, that you were in charge of keeping safe.” 
 
Gossipmonger shrunk away from her harsh rebuke, and squinted in the face of her radiance.  “I… I don’t know, majesty.  All of her power was recalled around eight o’clock this morning, and…”
 
“I KNOW the timelines," Rainmaker roared.  Outside, the sky began to darken and thunder rumbled in the distance.  “In fact, I think I know that nothing you could possibly say right now will satisfy me, so get your filthy self out of my sight, and don’t enter it again until you have some good news to share.” 
 
“But…”  Lightning flashed through the open balcony doors, frying Gossipmonger where he stood.  Rainmaker's slaves hurried forward, concerned expressions marring their usually smiling faces.  How long before they realized how awful they were treated and started to rebel, or grew so desperate for a dosage of Euphoria’s power that they went mad? 
 
Rainmaker took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.  The sky outside cleared again, revealing a radiant sunset.  Almost a full day had passed, and she was still no closer to finding even a hint of where Euphoria was hiding.  The whole city was on lock-down, but it was only a matter of time before the Epic population began asking questions, if they weren’t already.  Right now, only their happily rewritten memories and present fear of their epic masters was keeping the Vanilla population under control.  How long could it last? 
 
“When you are done cleaning him up, summon the other Queens.  I’ll meet them in my office.”

With Lucentia having taking her leave just recently the news hadn’t become public yet and Deathgale didn’t intend for it to become such. It was bothersome enough to put down all the maggots that had gotten arrogant after she lost her arm. So he went after business like usually.

Today said business lead him to what used to be a High school. The building was barely recognizable as what it used to be, now that its entirety’s covered in a layer of diamond, just like the other important buildings of the town that were still standing. For some reason the groups of Epics that had formed liked to take those as their bases, apparently they hoped it would grant them some kind of favor. Naïve fools.

The crowd inside the building parted to make way for him. Deathgale knew where he needed to go and no one in the building was foolish enough bother him. In the usual office he was greeted by Ripper. Not the most impressive Epic even if he had somewhat of a healing factor, a fact he tried to keep secret outside of his group. Naturally, trying to keep a secret in this town away from Bloody Mary was beyond futile. According to her, he acted as their representative until the Hematite formerly decided who should replace Hellstone. Having your leader die of a random heart attack is a rather pathetic tale; just further prove that this scum didn’t deserve to be called Epics.

The Epic bartender sat down facing him and exhaled a breath of smoke from his cigarette. It danced in the air between them. Ripper eyed the smoke warily.

“You may state your matter.” Deathgale stated calmly.

“Since Hellstone passed away Sonata has been putting pressure on us. She probably even Ki-“
“What killed him was his unhealthy diet, I can assure you.” Deathgale cut him off, a quiet edge in his voice making clear that the topic wasn’t up to debate.

“Certainly,” Ripper face showed a flash of anger at the slight towards his late boss, however he swallowed it down immediately, “still you can’t just let them-“
“There’s no ashtray on the table.”

“I’m sorry… but I think the matter at hand is more important.”
“Seems like I’ll have to do without one then,” Deathgale pulled one last time at his cigarette.

Then he stabbed it into Ripper’s eye. The little maggot reached for Deathgale. He simply flicked one of his fingers forward and with a high pitched hiss a blade of wind cut through Ripper’s arm. The bloody stump limply slumped on the table. Blood splatters stained the table and Ripper’s clothes.

Still as calm as he was when entering the school Deathgale stood up and walked towards the door. Halfway there he stopped and turned back to Ripper, who was collapsed on the table, moaning in pain as his remaining hand jerked between his eye and stump.

“Should we meet each other again you should remember your courtesies and also not presume to decide that we cannot do something.” He casually lit himself another smoke as he talked. “However, you are in luck. Her majesty is interested in keeping the city calm, so I shall have a talk with Sonata.”

Letting these lesser Epics play their little games with each other was a simply a way to keep them placated. Yet from time to time a little management was necessary to keep them from creating more trouble than they are worth and so Deathgale went to his next assignment.

thud

“I try not to.” Jef said, shuddering in turn. “Heard they could suck out your soul if you look em in the eyes and the first time I saw them I believed it, look like dead men walking they do.”

“Ah whatever, hurry up and get more wood or it’ll be morning by the time we get back.”

The two set to their daily routine, chopping and gathering firewood and loading it onto a truck. Ever since the power had gone out people in the inner suburbs had found themselves in a sudden need of wood and no means to get it, surrounded by concrete structures as they were.

It had been Jeds idea to get into the business of firewood, everyone needed to eat and while most people had focussed on supplying the food aspect of that not many had thought about peoples need for fuel.

He tried not to overprice it, everyone was in this together after all, but no one could blame a man for looking after his family first in times like this could they?

thwack.

A short distance away from the working pair a lone black crow stood watching, cocking its head to one side curiously before flying back to the dark tower to join its fellow.

Inside the tower stood an old man wearing a long flowing cloak, the weather was still hot and it caused him some discomfort but he was an actor after all, if he was going to live in a dark tower surrounded by crows he’d better look the part.

“Anything interesting?” A voice called from across the room, a gorgeous young woman reclining in a luxurious chair with one arm draped on the windowsill.

“Just a couple of layabouts getting some wood for the village and worrying that the dwellers of a certain evil tower might come and steal their souls.” Crowbar said, taking some liberties with what had actually happened and adding his own little embellishments.

The room was suddenly lit by an incredibly bright flash, Crowbar recognized the warning signs and closed his eyes just in time to avoid getting blinded before opening them to watch the woman, small bolts of electricity now dancing between her fingertips.

“Do you still need to do that?” Crowbar asked with a sigh as soon as he could hear again.

“What?” His companion, an Epic known as Powervault replied, idly watching as the bolt continued to play between her splayed fingers. “I’m a lightning Epic, I need lightning to charge myself up again.”

“You were charged three months ago, can you even hold anymore than you already have? Or do you just like the noise?”

Three more bolts struck Powervaults hand in rapid succession, leaving the indignant Crowbar squinting as he failed to close his eyes in time.

“You can never have too much.” She said, continuing to lounge languidly. “Besides it takes days to get a proper storm going to charge with, might as well make use of it while its here.”

Grumbling to himself, Crowbar turned, attempting to swirl his cape dramatically before striding to a staircase.

“I’ll be up top replenishing the flock since you just fried half of them.” He grumbled.

“Have fun dear.” Powervault said before shooting another crow from the sky with a bolt from her hand.

Crowbar wisely decided not to comment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
An elaborate manor on an island to the south

Sergeant Kimberly sighed deeply before sucking in a deep breath and rapping three times on the large door.

“Enter.” A voice inside called, strangely high pitched for one so commanding in tone.

Kimberly had drawn the short straw again, which meant that now she had to deal with him.

“I’ve brought the evening meal sir.” She said, trying to keep a calm voice as she approached the back of the large leather seat.

“Set it over there please Stuart.” The voice said again, without the door obstructing it it was now even more obvious, this was the voice of a child. A small hand accompanied the phrase, gesturing to a desk on one side of the room.

She walked over to the desk and placed a silver tray gently down onto it, the smell of freshly made soup, toast and perfectly roasted beef wafting up towards her.

“It’s er… Kimberly sir. Stuart’s still in the kitchen cooking for the rest.”

“Ah, sorry Kimberly, I sometimes forget which of me is me and which is another me.”

As usual she had absolutely no idea what he was saying, one of the reasons the soldiers stationed in the manor all hated having to be the one who served Psionic.

“Would you like me to take it away?” He asked gently, his small face turning in his chair to look up at her.

Upon seeing Kimberly’s confused expression the boy clarified.

“The anger, fear, hurt. They’re useful sometimes, but distracting, unpleasant. To dwell on them is not to live life but rather to be consumed by it. Or so I think anyway.”

Kimberly’s face paled still further.

“Um…” She stuttered out, trying to think of how best to refuse an Epic.

“Ah, you worry that I’ll steal your mind entirely? Leave you a broken shell? Worry not, you’ve no memories I want. Not yet.”

He stood up, approaching the shaking sergeant, her toned body trembling as the small boy walked up to her, stood on tiptoes and brushed her cheek softly.

“I’ll need to cultivate you more before I reap the harvest.”

He walked to one side, approaching one of the bookshelves that lined the room before pulling out a volume and then approached a desk, sitting down in his desk chair and pulling a blank notebook towards him and beginning to write.

Behind him, Kimberly just managed to retain her footing as she hastily retreated from the room, sparing only a glance for the young Epic-genius. She’d need to come back later to pick up the notebook, trying to make sense of his usually indecipherable scribbles and copy them before putting the original into storage.

But before then, she needed a drink.

Savannah nursed his drink, eyes lost in thought as he contemplated the coming day.

"Hey, Savannah right? You're in the arena tomorrow." An elderly man sat across the table from Savannah, the mans turquoise tophat marked him as either an Epic or completely insane.

"Yes that's right, and you are?"

"Ah scuse me manners, Brighthead at your service." The man swept a seated bow to Savnnah, almost smashing his flushed face into the table as he did so.

"Whoops. Well I'm jus a minor so I haven't been in the arena yet, I watched that match with Fundemented and whashisname last week, man that was good. Never would have called that he'd use that pencil in the end. So anyways, nervous for tomorrow? You're gonna meet Soulcaster himself and all."

Savannah nodded grimly. Fear overpowering his pride.

"Very nervous, I mean he's got to be one of the strongest Epics in the state. I hear he has a super powerful Epic in his employ that he just uses to set his watch in the morning!"

Brighthead laughed at that, finishing off his beer in one massive gulp.

"Well yer sort of right on that, but also completely wrong. You got a place to stay? You probly already got one here in the champions bar and all I got is a little two story downtown but you're welcome if you'd like."

Grimacing Savannah regained some of his usual arrogance, adressing the minor Epic coldly.

"I'll be fine to get accommodations by myself thanks."

"Ah thas much better." Brightdeath said, nodding in approval. "Got to carry yaself right or Soulcaster might just give ya some 'assistance'. Turned one guy into a lemur for his match cause he thought he was 'too short for an Epic'. Well, drink up next rounds on me."

Nervously Savannah accepted the offer, the information doing nothing to dispel his worries at meeting Soulcaster. Still some 'liquid courage' couldn't hurt right? And he still had plenty of time to head up to his rooms and get rest before the next day arrived.

"Make it two rounds and you can stay and drink with me." Savannah agreed.

"Ah tha sounds like a good deal to me. Just so's you know though, drinks are free fer Epics anyway." Brighthead said with a wink before ducking under Savannah's clumsy smack to his head.

If you're set on adopting an Epic, check out the Salem thread. 

Late November, two years ago 

Koschei the Deathless marched into the farmhouse, pistol in hand, purple cloak billowing behind him. Snowflakes fell, catching on his cloak and sticking in his hair, and he irritably pulled up the hood.

Barrett Springfield had betrayed him.

A hole in his stomach and a slit throat, and he had chosen a killing shot for Haze over a wound for his brother. When he ordered Haze and Headshot into the farmhouse, Koschei had been certain their mortal wounds would keep the Springfields firmly under his thumb.

Yet Barrett had betrayed. Two mortal wounds, and he still betrayed.

Koschei wished, not for the first time, that he could raise the dead. Were he graced with this gift, he would have raised Barrett a dozen times to kill him again and again.

He slammed the door open. “What do we have?”

Two vanillas knelt in the living room, hands behind their heads as Headshot held a pistol to each of their skulls. Tank had a dark-haired toddler in pink pajamas folded in his arms, who let out a wail the moment she spotted the newcomer. Koschei winced.

“Shut her up, will you?”

“Just calm down, Gloria,” her mother cooed. Her own voice was thick with tears. “Please, sweetie, just stop crying. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Gloria’s wail increased in volume. Tears flowed down her mother’s cheeks as her father added his voice in a desperate attempt to comfort her. The noise, the voices, the tears—it pounded at his skull, tearing through his resolve, he had to do something quickly or he would shoot them all and be down a family—

Koschei’s revolver was trained on the child in a heartbeat. “Shut her up or I’ll shut her up for good!”

Her parents fell silent. Even Gloria ceased her wailing, easing into a low, pitiful whimper.

“Please,” her mother pleaded. Her voice was soft now, wavering. “Please, don’t shoot her. We’ll do anything you want.”

Her father swallowed. “I’ll tell you where we keep the weapons. The code to the safe. Anything.”

Wheels turned in Koschei’s mind. His Epics had little need of weapons at the moment, though they would certainly be a boon, and Tank could simply tear the door off the safe. If this man was willing to give him the code, it meant he was breaking. He lowered his revolver. “Tell me the code.”

He rattled off a string of numbers, which Koschei committed to memory. “It’s in our closet. Second door down the hall. Ammo’s there, too.”

“Set Gloria on the floor,” he told Tank, “and see if they’re telling the truth.”

He returned a moment later with the safe in his arms. Koschei entered the code and opened the door to half a dozen rifles with an adequate supply of ammunition. His smile was genuine. “Thank you,” he told the father, “for telling the truth.”

The man relaxed slightly. “Come here, Gloria. Come here and sit with Papa.”

“Tank, bring Gloria to me.”

“You have the guns,” her mother said pleadingly. Frantically. “We gave you what you wanted, and you said you wouldn’t hurt her.”

Ignoring her, Koschei holstered his pistol. Tank carried a squirming, kicking Gloria to where he stood.

“Tilt her head back.”

He did so.

“You have the guns.” There was no demanding note in his voice. No anger. Only fear. “You said you’d leave her alone.”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“Please!” Her mother’s whisper was frantic and urgent. “We’ll do anything!”

Koschei paused to give the couple a smile, drawing a dagger from his belt. “I know you will.”

One quick slice and he slit the child’s throat.

Screams.

Pleas.

Koschei calmly placed his hand over the wound. The edges drew together. Blood ceased flowing onto his palm.

The screams fell silent.

“Your Gloria will live,” Koschei told the couple, sheathing his knife and taking a cloth from his pocket. He wiped the blood from his hand as he faced them. “Provided you do as I say. For what I give….”

He wiped the blood from her throat and withdrew a small amount of the power he had given. A short, narrow red line appeared on her throat, drawing a frantic whimper.

“I can also take away.”

Koschei regarded the couple for a long moment, struck by the contrast between them and the Springfields. Where that family had glared from the moment they were healed to the moment Koschei named the price of his gift, this couple stared. Not in outrage. Not in shock. Only terror. The woman bit her lower lip, sobbing quietly, not daring to avert her gaze from Gloria. Her husband’s eyes flickered from Koschei to his daughter. Perhaps there was a spark of anger, but it died the second Koschei touched his knife.

A smile curved his lips. These people were broken. Thoroughly broken.

And he owned them.

So I've been workshopping a vanilla character with @Chasmfiend, and I realized that although we encourage new people to make vanilla/human characters as well as epics, we don't really have a good list of suggested roles for vanillas to fill.  Now obviously the roles available to vanillas vary city to city, so I'd invite the other G.M.'s (when they have time) to post a list of suggested roles here.  Other players are also free to post suggestions as well, of course.  

I can copy and paste master lists into this post, if others agree, so that it's easy to find.  

Corvallis Vanilla Roles:

I hope these help as a starting point.  Individual players can give blanket consent if they want to people making servants or workers in certain sectors.

Anyways, here's my most recent summary of What Happened in Corvallis.  I don't like it as much as I remember liking older summaries, so I might tweak it if I ever track down the others.  

What Happened in Corvallis ... 

Google Doc for Epic Ideas

Master list of current characters: (Work in progress):

The Dominion:

Empire of Light

Thought Town

Team Funacid

Minor Epic Empire

Portland Neutrals

Astoria Epics:

Epics of the Dalles:

Thanks to a question one of our own asked at a recent event, we now know it is not only possible, but probable, that Obliteration deals the final few blows in the destruction of Oregon. Since writing for Obliteration is an opportunity that should not be limited to one person, it has been decided that we will share him. 

As it stands, the plan is to save Obliteration's arrival until after Portland is destroyed, and most likely when The Dalles has begun its descent into chaos. Obliteration will arrive in Oregon, decide the entire state is too mired in iniquity to remain standing, and begin destroying it one city at a time, absorbing sunlight in the unsettled regions between cities so as to not raise suspicions and therefore mete out "judgement" more effectively. Players who wish to write for him will choose a city to have him destroy, and write his arrival, the city's destruction, and any other scenes they deem necessary. Other cities can fall without Obliteration to destroy them, and various Epics will destroy various areas. He won't destroy the entire state himself, but he will be an option for certain cities. 

However, before we begin this plan, we need to agree on who we think Obliteration is as a character. While we all read the same amazing book, readers can often walk away with different impressions of the same people and events. This is not bad; it simply means that we'll have a richer well of insights to draw from. But we do need to decide exactly how we will portray him—and which cities he'll destroy—before we begin writing so there will be consistency between the various scenes, even if different writers choose to emphasize different things. 

Please note that writing for Obliteration is a privilege reserved for Oregon players ONLY. Although Obliteration is an outsider, he needs specific knowledge of precisely what kind of "iniquity" he wants to destroy in that specific city. The only way to gain this knowledge is to play the game. (Also, it would be quite unfair if those who have been writing this game for months were unable to write for Obliteration because non-players got there first.) 

To start off with, here are a few questions that might be important….

• What kind of a preacher do you think he was before Calamity? 
• If someone began reciting Bible verses about God's mercy to him, how would he react? 
• What specific things do you think lead him to destroy cities? More narrowly, what do you think made him decide to destroy Houston? San Diego? 

Players who will write for Obliteration (will be revised as names are added):

mail-mi

Kobold King 

TwiLyghtSansSparkles 

Edgedancer

Cities Obliteration will visit (will be revised continually):

Corvallis

Feel free to suggest questions, as well as answer them. Suggested questions will be added to the list. 

Objectively speaking, there are some things that have the potential to cause problems. Partial redemptions will still be canon, though it seems as though full redemptions won't be possible. Calamity didn't seem to rule out any existing power types—no more than Firefight did, anyway—but it looks like we can continue without too many major changes. 

Now I'll add my opinion. 

I didn't like what Sanderson did with the weaknesses, and I didn't like the way he tied them back to Calamity. Firefight made them into PTSD triggers, which was so deep and complex and added so many more layers to the Epics we knew….and then Calamity shifted the focus back onto Epics being smug and imperious because Calamity was smug and imperious. And the way Calamity could just take a normal fear and punch it up to insane levels felt shallow. So, if we're going to deviate from canon, I recommend we stay with the assumed definition of weaknesses as tying back to an Epic's past trauma, and being resolved by the Epic facing that trauma for the sake of someone else. I confess: I suggest this partly because the way I have Funtimes' redemption sequence planned, it wouldn't work nearly as well if the "to save someone else" caveat were observed. But I also think that the canon definition risks making Epics more shallow, and it plays into the way we've been writing our Epics better. 

Thoughts? Opinions? Angry rants for the Dark Lord Zorblag? 

If you're a new player, you're free to create your own characters. However, if you would like to play with an Epic, please consult this list first. There are many options here, and it is possible to adapt or retcon an abandoned character's powerset to a point.  

Portland Epics: 

Upgrade: Capable of increasing the effectiveness of anything on contact. Knives become sharper, bombs become more destructive, Epics become more powerful. Current alignment: The Dominion (under Corpsemaker)

Mundivore: Perfect body. Immune to physical damage, including disease; doesn't need to sleep or eat. Ask Cognizantastic for permission before adopting. Current alignment: The Dominion

Steetwise: Can connect with cities, making him a one-man surveillance system. Powers negated by floating buildings (which, believe it or not, are a very real danger in Portland). Current alignment: The Dominion 

Leech: Able to drain attributes from his "people", like health or strength, and he keeps them near him to do so. They follow willingly. Current alignment: The Dominion

Collaborate: Becomes stronger and tougher the more people "follow" him. Current alignment: The Dominion

Murphy: His prime invincibility ensures that when it comes to threats, anything that can go wrong, will. If an army attacks him, their guns will jam and their pants will fall down. Current alignment: The Dominion 

Soulswitch: An Epic capable of dissolving his own body and possessing animals or not Epic people. Currently works for Penumbra, who in turn is a member of the Empire of Light. Ask Voidus for permission before adopting.

Parity, who can absorb color out of objects to create orbs that either have healing or destructive powers. Allignment: Empire of Light.

Night-Mare: A Thoughttown Epic capable of turning her own shadow into dangerous horse constructs. Ask Mailliw for permission before adopting.

Kathy/Flamethrower: A fire Epic alligned with Thoughttown. Ask Mailliw for permission before adopting.

Dalles Epics:

Ozymandias: Capable of extreme speeds, including an accelerated perception, dissolving objects by increasing their entropy and regenerating. Tecnically unaligned but tending towards the city guard.

Hydron: Hydrokinetic that can accelerate his healing by submerging himself under water. Allignment: City guard.

Event Horizon: Gravity manipulator that can create points of strong gravitational pull, while also altering how gravity affects him. Allignment: Slivers (Quicksilver)

Sunspot: An Epic capable of emiting sunlight from his body, ranging from simple illumination to concentrated laser beams. Alligned with Frequency's cult.

Blindside: An Epic capable of switching position with people that he knows the exact location of. Alligned with Frequency's cult.

Astoria Epics:

Blackwave: A mighty High Epic pirate that has come to Astoria to collect a bounty on Bloody Mary's head. He not only has a fearsome crew but is also equiped with a wide array of powers, ranging from water manipulation in both on a small and the large scale, powerful healing and a bundle of minor powers to go along with them. Ask Edgedanver for permission before adopting. Allignment: Anti-government faction

Sharkbait: The first mate of the Tidebreaker under Blackwave, capable of bringing sharks under his command and merging them into his own consciousness, not only to be controled like a part of his own body but also to be drained of physical attributes for the sake of their master.

Wandersial: The navigator of the Tidebreaker, possessing not only the ability to create minor storms but also inherently knoes her own location, as well as the cardinal diractions.

Lockvault: An Epic with the ability to place objects into an alternate dimension for storage, preserving them in their current state, as well as multiple abilities to enhance his mental capabilities. Currently works together with the Adventurer, an Epic under the assumption that life is a video game. Ask Voidus for permission before adopting.

Timelock: A time manipulator that can alter the flow of time for himself, other objects or within areas.

Portland: Closed to all new Epic characters, but recently reopened to non-Epics. 

The Dalles: Closed to new Epic characters, but open to non-Epics. In a town run by non-Epics, where all Epics must either work for the City Guard under strict restrictions, or live as outlaws and risk being killed on sight (and trust me, the mayor there is very good at figuring out how to kill Epics), this actually presents more interesting opportunities for non-Epic player characters. Don't believe me? Ask Kobold King (thread GM) for details.

Corvallis: Open to Epics and non-Epics, but ask Comatose (thread GM) for details. 

Astoria: Situation there is a bit tricky, considering all the powerful Epics currently attacking the town. Ask Edgedancer (thread GM) for details. 

Salem: New Epic characters welcome. Ask Voidus (thread GM) for details.

I'd say "Have fun," but if you have to be told to have fun, then it's not really fun anymore.

I found this pug cosplaying as Princess Luna, so I'd say it was a success. 

May I present to you…..

I thought this quote a good place to end the last thread.  

This was completely necessary. 

Discuss. 

Which fanon couple in this RP would win the cutest couple contest?

Free-form games don't really have a goal. There may be a loose plot (for example, the What Happened in Oregon series center on the destruction of Oregon in the Epic turf wars) but there aren't really campaigns. Most of the time, it's difficult to say what will happen three or four pages out, as long-term plans are loose at best and subject to change. As a result, these games are highly character-driven as opposed to event-driven—that is to say, characters determine what will happen next by how they interact with their setting and with other characters. 

When creating a character, consider the following: 

• What happened to him/her before they joined the story? 
• What is their personality like? Are they grouchy or cheerful, kind or cruel, focused or flighty, idealistic or cynical? 
• What are three positive traits of this character? (If you're creating a complete monster, think of traits that help him or her—intelligence, determination, ambition, etc.) 
• What are three negative traits of this character? (Flaws that make a character imperfect, like pettiness, self-absorption, judgmental attitudes, etc. It's been said before, but clumsiness is not a character flaw.) 
• If a genie offered them three wishes, what would those wishes be? 
• How would they react if they went to the store to satisfy a craving for Cocoa Puffs, only to find the store was out? 
• What would they do if they went to the laundromat and saw the one person they could not stand had taken the last machine? 

In other words, who is this person, and what would they add to the story? The point of free-form role-playing is much like the point of good storytelling: Don't focus on creating the most powerful, most brilliant, or most amazing character in the game. Focus instead on creating an interesting character. Create a character who feels like a person you might sit down and have coffee with: You might enjoy talking to them, or you might not, but the idea is to create a character who feels real.

It is highly recommended you read the thread you want to join. If the thread is long or Real Life doesn't give you much time for reading, ask current players for a summary. However, reading at least a few posts of characters in the thread you want to join will allow you to answer these questions: 

• How would my character react to my favorite character in this thread? 
• How would my character react to my least favorite character in this thread? 
• How would my character cause problems for the other characters? 
• How would my character solve problems for the other characters? 
• How would my character make their grand entrance, and how would the other characters react? 

If you answered the problem-causing question with "Not at all," go back and add a few flaws. Free-form RPGs are about telling a good story and having fun doing it, and stories are all about conflict. Flawed characters cause conflict and are interesting to read about. Perfect characters are rarely interesting. 

Once you have a good character in mind, PM me and the thread starter and go from there. 

Some notes on Epic characters: 

In canon, teleportation is supposed to be rare. As many teleporters were created before this was known, Oregon is rather saturated with teleporters now. If you are creating an Epic character, please stay away from teleportation as a power. 

A planning thread for the Halloween RP, since October starts soon. So...let's plan things. first of all, who'll be running this show?

For those curious about and new to the Oregon RP, this is a place to plan, ask questions, seek GM approval on characters, tell jokes, post pictures of ponies, and any variation of the above. You do not need to read every page of this thread to join. If this one ends up like the last one, it will probably be mostly ponies and jokes. If you want to join, skip to the last page and ask. Do not feel obligated to read every single page of the planning thread. Seriously. If there's an important conversation here, we will link you to it or give you a summary. We want you to join; we don't want to give you a ton of homework.

For current players, good work. We've posted so many ponies and jokes that we had to expand. Keep it up.

Long live the Oregon RP, and long may we ponify all that is in it.

On some other forums I've been to, we did play-per-post role-playing. It was more like the threads in the Clans/Guilds section, but more like a story, too. There was always a plot chosen at the outset (a Lord of the Rings RP had Melkor/Morgoth return several hundred years after the Ring was destroyed; a New Worlds RP focused on the villains of the story as they plotted a rebellion against a good king; etc.) with each post contributing to the overall storyline. Each player created and controlled a character or a handful of characters, responsible for their interactions with other players as well as description of their surroundings and development. So I suppose it was less like a traditional role-play and more like a chapter-or-paragraph-per-post group story.  

I was wondering if anyone would be interested in starting one like that set in the world of Steelheart. According to the "If You Were an Epic?" thread, a lot of people on here have fantastic character ideas, and I'd love to see them in action.