What Happened in Portland

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

"Because…because... I wanted to prove it to myself. They told me... told me I was powerful."

 

They?

 

"Had a chance. Didn't believe it, though. Not really. I had to prove it. Prove myself. To be an Epic like..."

 

Funtimes' grip tightened on the lighter. She knew what was coming. Like Lightwards. I wanted to be like him. Lucentia. Altermind. Corpsey CorpseMaker. Like every Epic who's better than—

 

"Like you." 

 

You. 

 

"So when I saw someone who was obviously strong and powerful, made... like me…"

 

Like you. 

 

"I thought why couldn't I be like you? When you weren't doing whatever you were doing. Dangerous."

 

He looked at her through sad, bloodshot eyes. Cheeks wet with tears. Slumped over. Arms free, but he wasn't using them to reach for anything. Not that he could—everything useful was on the other side of the room or in her grasp. He wasn't trying to fight her off. When she said she was going to kill him, he thought she was telling the truth. 

 

I wanted to be like you. 

 

Doctor Funtimes looked down at the cloth in her hand. Red. Cotton-like. Just the right size for a gag. She looked at it….and she changed her mind. 

 

Keeping one eye on the chess Epic, she backed a step or two, found a plank, and transformed it into a metal baseball bat. The lighter became a glowing electric necklace, which she slipped over her head before wrapping both hands round the bat. She eyed her target in the dim but steady light. 

 

Clunk.

 

The bat struck his temple, and he slumped forward awkwardly, still half buried in the tar. His glasses fell to the floor. 

 

Funtimes changed the smooth concrete and tar alike to water. He sank, and without waiting to see if he'd bob back up, she made the water concrete once more. Smooth and grey. Only she would know what was beneath it and why. 

 

If he wasn't dead yet, he would be soon. 

 

Only she would know. 

[Mailliw73 he/him]

As Electro watched the dead carnivore slump to the ground, he heard a high pitched voice. "Hiya! That wasn't very nice to poor mr. Numnums you know, he was just hungry being all cooped up with stuffy old Wardy all day and he wanted some fun." Electro stared back at the insane Epic who had been riding the Dino.

"And now you've gone and killed him so I have nothing to do. I loathe not having anything to do, so either you can try to find out how to entertain me or else I can find a way to entertain myself which will no doubt lead to Corpsemaker being reeeeeeeally angry with you guys. Or maybe I'll just go visit him directly. I hear he doesn't cope well against teleporters." Electro was a bit stunned at her appearance, but as he was about to answer, Timeport resurrected, blaspheming as he rose from the grave.

"What in Calamity’s name just happened?! Electro, what the sparks just killed--” Timeport froze and drooled over the prehistoric beast lying dead at Electro's feet. "Where can I get one?" The fool asked.

Electro tuned out the two Epics. One was an arrogant fool, the other a jabbering psycho. The girl faded away and Electro realized she said something about sending a gift to Corpsemaker. Whatever it was, he wouldn't be happy. "Timeport, the boss won't be happy with whatever her 'gift' is. We need to get back to the armory. Quota ran off to hide somewhere, but I assume he's smart enough to walk back on his own."

Electro strode down the road, ignoring Timeport. He headed straight for the armory and was shocked at what he found when he arrived. A small army was attacking the base. A few were Epics, Epics crazy enough to think they could attack the Dominion and survive.

Electro blasted a beam at a few of the human soldiers they had with them, killing them instantly. An Epic with a flaming sword turned to Electro. "I am Uriel, flame of hell," the Epic wearing a bright orange cape said. Electro laughed at the dramatic introduction.

"I am Electro, killer of idiots," Electro mocked. He shot a beam of electricity at the Epic, but he managed to block it with his flaming sword. Impressed at his skill with the blade, Electro almost missed the stream of fire that had shot out the end of the blade. He ducked to the side and only got the hair on his neck singed.

When Electro looked back up, Uriel, fluorescent drama king, was sprinting toward him. Electro blasted the ground in front of him and gouged a chasm a few feet deep. Pain engulfed his left arm. He spun to see a woman dart down an alley. Electro Scrambled Uriel and then shot a beam down the alley after the woman. As he turned a corner, he felt something stab his back. The woman had leaped onto him and was clawing at him, trying to bite his shoulder. He Scrambled her and then shook her off. Parts of her clothes had been burned off by his electric field. He spat at her face and, with his right hand, severed her head.

Cursing and coddling his left arm, Electro headed back to Uriel. The flame Epic was melting one of Toymaker's soldiers. "Torch of crossing guards, I'm back!" Uriel spun and threw a dagger, flaming, of course, at Electro. His magnetic field deflected the metal and he shot another burst of energy at the Orange-clad Epic. Another block.

Electro cursed at the man. He was inferior. Only a slight step better than the women in the park. He Scrambled the man, causing him to stare in confusion before shooting twin energy beams from both hands, killing Uriel. His left screamed in pain, but he bit his tongue to resist crying out. Two Epics killed, a dinosaur, and a bit of fun. Tonight had been better than he thought it would be.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

Doctor Funtimes didn't stay in the basement, opting instead to return to her original hiding place. The streets were still empty, but she sat in a corner well away from the windows anyway. 

 

Gone. He was gone. And with him, that freakish ability to manipulate her. 

 

Funtimes didn't know what emotional manipulation had to do with chess, but Epics had stranger powers. Super Hotman's main power had been unnervingly good looks, but also teleportation and party sensing. 

 

Courtney. 

 

The thought bubbled up again, but she blocked it out with a thought of Sam's new pug. 

 

She blocked it out. 

 

Doctor Funtimes drew her knees up to her chest. She wasn't quite ready to smile, but that could wait. 

 

Wasilla, Alaska

Six months before Annexation

 

For once, a tearful phone call didn’t send Jade’s mother into lecture mode.

 

“Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.” The drive between their address and the McDonald’s was a short one, and Theresa Delancey was there before Jade could finish pouring out her story to the cashier, teens, and old man who clustered around her corner booth.

 

Jade choked to a stop when she saw her mother, grey-streaked braid draped over her shoulder as always, clutching the keys to their old sedan. Instead of snapping at her to get up, Theresa grabbed a chair. “Go on. Tell me what happened.”  

 

She did. How anyone understood her through all the sobbing and stammering was beyond her, but they patted her shoulders and murmured sympathy all the same. The cashier offered to pray, the old man offered use of his CB radio for any news that might come in before the media got ahold of it, and the teens offered French fries.

 

The next thing she knew, she was buckled into the front seat of their sedan, staring out the window at skeletal trees and brown grass still patched with greying snow. One of her CDs played over the stereo, but Jade barely listened until a familiar beat poured out.  

 

With one swift slap, she killed the audio.

 

“I thought you liked that song.” She sounded hurt.

 

Jade shrugged, back to looking out the window.

 

“I know you and Courtney listened to it.”

 

“Together.” And only together, Jade didn’t add. She had tried it before, listening to their song when she was alone. When Courtney was at the other end of the line, the song was a promise that she would always pick up the phone, always call back, always plan to return the second she could. When Jade was alone, the song was a grim reminder that Courtney wasn’t there, hadn’t picked up the phone, couldn’t plan her return trip.

 

Now, the lyrics weren’t a reminder so much as a taunt.

 

Theresa sighed softly, but left the music off.  

 

Once at home, Theresa opened Jade’s door and held it against the wind. No sighs. No urging her to hurry. Not a word about sobbing in front of six strangers. She let Jade wander into her room, ducking inside long enough to pull the bedcovers over her curled-up form.

 

“Can I get you anything?”

 

Just Courtney. Jade shook her head, tears stinging her eyes again. She closed them tight, and she felt the mattress sink as her mother sat down beside her. Theresa’s long, cool fingers combed through her hair, softly, gently. Like Courtney would do when she was sick.

 

The tears spilled over.

 

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”

 

Jade nodded.

 

“Anything to drink? Some music?”

 

She shook her head, a little too vigorously. On an ordinary day, Jade would worry about that, worry if it had offended her mother and made her feel unwanted. Today, she didn’t care.

 

Theresa stood, giving a soft sigh—not one of her irritated ones, or the ones she gave when someone hurt or offended her. It sounded like giving up. “I’ll call the school.”

 

The school, of course, meant the University of British Columbia. Courtney’s school. Theresa wouldn’t hang up until she’d been told a dozen times that there was no one to take her call. Even then, she might not quit dialing until she received a cease-and-desist letter from a judge. If UBC had anything to say about Courtney, they’d say it to Theresa.

 

She closed Jade’s door, leaving her with light streaming around the cracks in her curtains, and Jade gave in to her tears. The song played through her head, and people screamed as an Epic taunted them, and Jade cried into her pillow.

 

When the sobs had subsided, Jade grabbed her phone. She didn’t think about what she did. She just thought about Courtney disappearing, maybe dying, and pressed the button.

 

It rang and rang.

 

“Hi, you’ve reached Kevin Delancey, independent pilot and part-time flight instructor for the greater Alaska area. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

 

“Dad?” Jade sniffed. “I—I know you’re working, but…I…I need you. Call me back, okay? I love you. Bye.”

 

She held the phone in her hand for a minute, maybe two, before it rang. “Jadey?”

 

“Dad?”

 

There was wind roaring through the background of his call, and he had to shout. “Got your message—what’s wrong?”

 

She explained as succinctly as she could.

 

“Sit tight, Jadey. I’m on my way.”

 

 

Quota wasn't there for the killing. He guessed, correctly, that it would be quick, ending with her return to her original hiding place. She ported in, all anger and fear and relief just starting to bloom, and Quota stood outside and soaked it in. 

 

His ruse had worked. That chess Epic had taken the blame for his attack, and she had taken the bait. The artificial sweetness was oozing out of her again, coating her anger, masking her fear. But there was something else it couldn't quite cover, not entirely, and it took Quota a moment to identify it. 

 

Grief. 

 

From an Epic. 

 

Not unheard of. Catch them at the right moment, and you could see an Epic mourning something from the life they'd left behind. It was never quite this strong, though. Never so fresh. Never so beautifully, painfully raw. 

 

The grief was sinking beneath a mask of sugar and false joy. She thought herself safe, and Quota left her to her delusions.

 

He smiled as he pulled his hood up and made for the armory. His plan wasn't complete, but CorpseMaker would love it anyway. 

Edited April 24, 2015 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[mail-mi he/him]

Neverthere vanished, leaving Timeport stranded with Electro and the dinosaur.

The holy freaking Calamity sparking dinosaur.

Timeport looked almost longingly at where Neverthere had stood. She was....well, kinda cute, actually. She knew how to treat those underneath her. What faction did she say? Timeport thought, his eyes straying towards the dinosaur carcass. Lightwards, she said....?

Electro snapped him back into reality. “Timeport, the boss won't be happy with whatever her 'gift' is. We need to get back to the armory. Quota ran off to hide somewhere, but I assume he's smart enough to walk back on his own." With that, he stormed off back to the armory, leaving Timeport stranded next to the undead fossil.

Lightwards...is he the one in the floating museum? Timeport was pretty sure about that, and ever since he and the Reckoners had seen it fly up into the air he’d wanted to explore it. Maybe I could join up with them... Lightwards would be sure to give a High Epic like Timeport a spot in his dominion, right? Looking up, Timeport could just barely see the floating museum, outlined in the red light of Calamity.

Calamity.

God.

His sacred mission.

Not even feeling in the mood to teleport, Timeport tore his eyes away from the museum and the dinosaur and, with a sigh, trudged back to the armory, his battle axe, suddenly much heavier than before, dragging along behind him.

Sidestep’s bravery faltered more and more the closer he got to the Dominion. Even using his powers to get through the wall, which usually boosted his confidence in his abilities, didn’t help.

He didn’t want to die. Corpsemaker was invincible! How could they, simple Minor Epics, think to even have a chance of beating him?

Mommy...

With a hoot and holler, the other Epics charged into the Dominion, but Sidestep slowed his pace. Feeling like a failure, he turned around to go back. He couldn’t die. Not now.

That’s when he spotted him.

Someone was sulkily trudging down the street with a battle axe dragging behind him. He doesn’t look powerful... Sidestep thought hopefully. Maybe I can take this one. Sidestep moved into his dimension, holding his breath. His dimension didn’t have any oxygen, so he’d gotten pretty good at holding his breath--he could almost hit four minutes now. Running to where he’d spotted the Epic before, Sidestep suddenly realized something:

He didn’t have a weapon.

Sparking idiot! he yelled at himself. He only had a few more seconds before he had to leave; he could already feel his muscles burning. Scanning frantically for something, anything to use, he found a sizable piece of brick, just sitting on the ground. He reached down for it and quickly flipped back into the normal world, taking a second to get a breath of fresh air, grab the brick, and check the Epic’s (at least, he thought he was an Epic, considering no vanilla would tote around a battle axe of that size) position, then shifted back into his dimension.

He ran forward, carrying the brick and searching for the place the Epic had stood. He was there in less than a minute, and, steeling himself for a fight, swapped out of his dimension.

Sidestep appeared behind the Epic, who still hadn’t noticed him. Feeling courageous, he snuck up behind the Epic and, holding his breath for maximum silence, raised his piece of brick and smacked him in the back of the head, sending the Epic to the ground.

The Epic didn’t get up.

Well, Sidestep thought happily, reaching down to pick up the axe as a prize, that was easy. Edited May 1, 2015 by mail-mi

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

Gordon leaned against the wall, listening with half an Ear to Max’s speech while he watched the others in the Room with his full attention. “You probably heard of Koschei, the Deathless Epic, who took over a town in the east.” Moses and Charles we’re sitting at the far end of the table. Both of them looked Skeptical of Max’s Idea. They didn’t think they had much of a chance against High Epics like Corpsemaker or Lightwards.

 

“He was unkillable; he healed himself and could come back to life. He had a whole team of Epics to support him.” And in truth, they didn’t. It wasn’t often High Epics were killed, Koschei was a notable exception. Gordon still didn’t know how Remington had managed to do it, though according to Rumor he’d prayed for a day and a night for God to bless his fist and then punched the Epic’s head clean off. There were a lot of Rumors surrounding the unassuming man who stood apart from the Reckoners, still watching over Alice.

 

“Koschei the Deathless one day tasted death. Permanently. Remington killed an unkillable Epic. He brought death to the Deathless. Deathbringer, a slayer of Epics, in our midst. With his experience, your information, and my contacts, we will bring the people of this city to the top again. We will overthrow the Epics who lord over us. We are a city of the strange, a city of the special. We must take back our city." Max finished his speech, and Gordon found himself wanting to applaud. The others looked similarly Impressed. Frank actually did start clapping. Sierra’s face was completely blank, which was par for course for her. She kept her emotions close to the chest when dealing with unexpected situations.

 

But Charles and Moses still looked skeptical. They glanced at each other and Moses nodded. He stood and addressed the rest of the room.  “Alright then, I know the others have already agreed to help you with this, so we’ll go along with this for Robert’s sake. But we want you to know, this isn’t going to work in the long run. If we succeed in killing Altermind, Corpsemaker and Lightwards, Other Epics will come, and they will slaughter all who oppose them.”

 

Charles stood up then, supporting his friend. “But at least we’ll have done something more worthwhile than killing shoplifters. When do we begin?” Gordon stopped paying attention as the others began to talk about what would be needed to start a rebellion. Instead he walked over to where the Legend stood.

Remington was still close to the door, watching Max and the Reckoners talk when Gordon reached him. “So you’ll be needing to get going soon. Do us a favor and see how many of the Epics at the Museum would be willing to lend us their support. I know Sightline will.”

[Voidus]

Synesthesia dropped her blanket of darkness, a faint hum in the air disappearing as she did so.

The other Epics with her breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have gotten out alive. The attack had been going well, guards dropping like flies, walls collapsing, shouts of victory from the MEE forces.

Then someone had reported that Refill had been killed. No one had been too surprised, he had shown his powers ability to kill people with a touch but he would have struggled against even a single guard with a gun if that was all he relied on. And he'd insisted on joining the fight personally, leaving the others to go on by himself. No his death had not been particularly surprising. What was surprising was the news of how it had happened, a woman in white severing his head from his body with a strip of cloth.

The Epics of Thoughttown were back.

News of group after group being killed came in, nearly a dozen were killed by the woman in white alone, the survivors had grouped together and fled under cover of Synesthesia's shield of darkness.

"Rapid" Synesthesia said, turning to the minor speed Epic "Get back to the HQ, let everyone know what happened. The attack went well but enemy Epics showed up, Refill died along with at least a dozen others. Go!"

The Epic nodded then sped off, becoming a blur in an instant. If he could actually fight at those speeds he might be useful, unfortunately he had none of the increased bone density necessary to withstand his speed, even the running caused him pain, actually hitting people caused him to break his hands.

"Everyone else, take 5 we should be far enough out of their range that the Thoughttown Epics won't pursue, we'll make our way back once we're all more rested. I'll need three others to come with me to get the cars though, we can't walk all the way there."

The others were barely listening. Sitting down and staring at their hands, catatonic. Rubbing both temples, Synesthesia sighed deeply.

She was beginning to think the MEE had been a terrible idea.
\

The MEE was an excellent idea. Collaborate thought, hurling a brick over two hundred meters to penetrate the skull of a soldier, he'd quickly realized that while tossing cars was certainly impressive they rolled too unpredictably and more importantly were not an unlimited resource. He'd need some if Corpsemaker actually came out.

Ripping a car door off the body he used it as a shield, catching incoming bullets with the large piece of metal and charged forwards, knocking over a dozen soldiers to the ground for others to finish off, he grabbed one of the downed soldiers by the leg, hurling him into the air.

The power was simply incomparable to anything he'd felt before, this freedom, he now knew how other strength Epics must feel, their abilities not limited like his.

No, that's not right. He mused, punching through a nearby sternum. They're just as limited, they have a higher base level sure but what if I had a thousand people following me? Ten thousand? I could shatter the earth itself if I had enough followers.

Grinning in delight, Collaborate roared his way through the dominion. Looking for his quarry. Looking for his death.

Looking for Corpsemaker.

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

Corpsemaker stood in a mockery of parade rest, watching as the Little Epic broke through The wall, killing toy soldiers and generally causing Mayhem. He was indeed very powerful. More powerful than Corpsemaker had originally assumed. Not that it mattered, The soldiers were literal Cannon Fodder, and Collaborate’s followers would be easy kills for Murphy and Leech. Probably. Those two were the only Epics in his employ that he had yet to see fight. This would be a good test for them, if they ever showed up.

 

Corpsemaker watched as Collaborate ripped a car apart, using it to block bullets before using it as a battering ram. Idly he mused about the waste of Talent. If they had managed to recruit Collaborate, he could have had thousands of soldiers following him. Instead, he would die alone.

 

Footsteps from behind announced the Arrival of Leech and Murphy. Both were panting from their extended run from the the barracks. They stopped behind him, out of his line of sight, and he could hear Leech whistle appreciatively at the size of the opposing force.

 

“That’s what we’re going up against? That’s a lot of men. And one powerful Epic.”

 

Corpsemaker nodded, still watching Collaborate. “Yes, just one Epic. I will take him. You two just deal with the vanilla’s. Don’t engage the Epic. Just kill his followers.”

 

They didn’t respond, but after a moment, hurried forward towards the Battle. The two epics split up, each going to a different Side of the Battle. Corpsemaker waited until they attracted attention from the soldiers, then walked forward. As Collaborate killed the Last Toy, he called out to the epic “COLLABORATE!!! STOP WASTING YOUR TIME KILLING PUPPETS!! COME AND FACE THE MASTER!!!

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Murphy dashed forward, mentally counting soldiers and figuring out what to do. The easiest thing would be to get in the middle and get them to start shooting. Most of them would shoot each other, and then he could just grab a gun and start firing himself. Then he could-

 

An Owl crashed down next to him, skidding to a stop after leaving a streak of blood. The surprise of the event was enough to make Murphy jump to the side, which saved his life again, as a bullet whizzed by, embedding itself into a nearby wall.

 

Murphy scowled at the soldier who had fired. He turned, and then threw his hand forward, as if casting a spell. The soldier panicked, assuming he was a ranged Epic, and fired his gun. The Magazine burst, and the soldier through down the gun and ran. Murphy charged into the group of men, rather annoyed at the whole thing. Most of them started firing at him, but only hit their comrades, one tried to throw a grenade, but it simply exploded before leaving the man’s hand, blowing his arm off.

Murphy started laughing at that point. Why had he been nervous earlier? These mortals were nothing compared to him. He stooped down, grabbing a gun from a fallen soldier, and let loose, pulling the trigger again and again until the few remaining soldiers started fleeing. He chased after them, grabbing more guns as he ran out of ammo. Most of his shots didn’t hit, but enough of them did that there were constantly men falling, their corpses splaying out in a beautiful pattern, their limbs tripping their fellows, giving Murphy the opportunity to finish them off.

 

None of them survived to reach the entrance.

 

Murphy funted around, finding a gun with a full magazine, and turned to survey the rest of the battle. Where Leech had been fighting, there was white mist everywhere. The man himself was kneeling in the center of a carpet of Corpses, his hands around the throat of a soldier. The white mist was dripping from dozens of bulletholes, some going clear through the Epic’s Head. The effect was rather majestic to watch.

 

He turned again, this time looking for Corpsemaker and Collaborate. That fight looked to be going very badly.

Badly for Collaborate at least.

Edited May 18, 2015 by The Only Joe

[Kobold King he/him]

 

 

After what felt like an eternity, Lightwards' prison crumbled.

 

He almost fell over but managed to hold his balance, standing amid a newly formed pile of green dust on the sidewalk. He supposed it might be valuable if brought to the right dealer, but for the moment, he was more keen on brushing the stuff out of his clothes. It was one thing to wear diamonds--it was quite another to look like a toddler who'd rolled around in a pile of glitter, like a certain matter manipulator he knew.

 

"As you wish," Lucentia said pompously, turning her back on him and walking down the street. “To return to our important matters, Altermind’s illusions failed during the meeting.”

 

"I'd gathered that," Lightwards muttered, just loudly enough for her to hear him. He raised his voice and continued. "You've done quite a lot of reprimanding but not much in the way of explanation. What circumstances did his powers fail under? Did you happen to notice a catalyst, potentially his weakness? Hold nothing back."

[Voidus]

Collaborate hurled another soldier towards Corpsemaker, his glee at being singled out by the powerful Epic turned to dissatisfaction as the soldier flew less than a third as fast as the ones he'd used before.

He turned back, looking for his group of soldiers, only to find them all bleeding on the floor, their corpses surrounding a man with a gun who was calmly surveying the rest of the field.

It seemed that human followers were as fragile as ever. Cursing himself for his hubris, Collaborate realized how underprepared he'd been, he'd been used to fighting one Epic, maybe a small team with perhaps a dozen human bodyguards, he'd never stopped to think that as he targeted Corpsemaker another Epic might decimate his followers.

Growling with rage he hurled the car door he'd been using towards the Epic, only for it to curve in mid air and bury itself in one of his own soldiers.

Analyzing his remaining strength he guessed that there were perhaps ten remaining from his army of thirty.

I need to finish this quickly. Attack Corpsemaker directly, scare his Epics into submission. Capture that Toymaker Epic so I get the soldiers, then I will have more than enough strength left.

Feeling his strength slowly draining more as the other Epics from the MEE were killed he took action, taking a giant leap towards Corpsemaker, hands outstretched.

Even as he flew, two more died, leaving him with barely five times his normal strength, fear started to flicker in his stomach as he soared, what if they all died? What if they died before he could even touch Corpsemaker?

He tried to think of a plan, some way to escape, but no, he was already there, already committed.

He landed, barely five feet from the legendary Epic, legs straining as he no longer had the strength to properly absorb his fall.

He was all alone. Alone and trying to fight the strongest Epic in Portland.

 

Yorrick observed his catch, it had turned out that skulls weren't great at digging bodies out of graves, even if they were flaming, flying skulls. Luckily someone from the MEE had sent Scrapyard after them, the Epic turning his limbs into digging equipment and managed to unearth a dozen bodies in as many minutes.

Stitch had taken some of the more intact bodies, sitting down nearby he wove his thread through their corpses, the corpses limbs twitching occasionally as he tested their movement.

Sighing, Yorrick looked at his growing army of skulls, their eerie glowing penetrating the nights gloom, then he looked up, the dim glow from the underside of the floating museum taunting him. He turned towards Scrapyard.

"I'm going to need mor., A lot more."

He arranged his skulls beneath him, forming a glowing platform for him to stand on, he hovered slightly above the ground on his flaming bed of skulls before arranging them into a chair instead.

Yes, a flaming throne made from the skulls of my enemies. And tonight, tonight I will add the skull of Lightwards to them, and whoever else is dwelling in that museum.

[Edgedancer he/him]

For someone that apparently gathered everything Lightwards still had a lot of questions for Lucentia. “Of course I noticed something. Only the vigilant deserve success and mine has been quite plenty. It’s the Trattner girl, from what I gathered she communicated with Altermind using that clipboard Funtimes gave her, something she wrote triggered his weakness and the girl did her best to hide the paper she wrote on. Something Altermind let her get away with. Rather pathetic on his part but that only means it is his own fault, if it gets used against him.”

 

"I have a way of controlling her. Whatever she knows, I will know upon my next encounter with her," Lightwards responded. A smile grew on Lucentia’s face, true they did have their mother after all. It almost made her wish that the brat would refuse to tell them.

                                                                              

 

Shortly afterwards they reached the museum and Lucentia raised a new pillar under them. They entered the over-grown foliage. As soon as no one was standing on it anymore, Lucentia let the pillar collapse, cutting the floating fortress off from the ground.

 

“Finally finished your business for the day, did ya?” The one that called out to them was her brother, flanked by two women- did he pick up yet another one?-  and dragging Funtimes’ mask wearing atrocity behind him, his hands tied. “Guess who turned out to actually be an Epic, was hidden by Funtimes here in the museum, came out of said hiding while everyone was away, tried to burn down this nice flammable forest Funtimes grew and tried to led away some of the dinosaurs in the confusion.”

 

He gave the Unicyclist a kick in the ribs, “Granted there aren’t that many options, so I’m sure you can figure it out quite nicely.”

 

Lucentia shook her head, even wouldn’t be that stupid. Not that she would actually step up for her defense, even if her brother was only planning to pin something on the woman. Still, she led Lightwards react first. He may as well show some leadership.

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

Corpsemaker stepped to the side, just dodging the thrown soldier. Collaborate wasn’t slowing down yet, though Leech and Murphy were slaughtering the Interlopers. A fact that Collaborate hadn’t yet noticed. The Epic had chosen to maintain his range. Perhaps the fool believed Corpsmaker’s powers had a range? They didn’t, he was just choosing to wait. He wanted this Epic to realize just how minor he really was. Then, when Corpsemaker offered him the chance to become truly Epic, he’d have no choice but to accept.

 

Collaborate hurled another body, but this time, Corpsemaker didn’t even bother to dodge. The body flew slowly through the air, crashing down before it was even halfway to him. His opponent eyed his fallen projectile, then turned away, looking for his followers. There were barely a dozen left. Would the Epic keep fighting, now that he saw what was happening?

 

Collaborate turned, and threw the car door he’d been holding like a frisbee. It curved in midair and took out a soldier who’d been about to shoot Murphy. Corpsemaker could see the panic in the man’s eyes as he assessed the situation. Hopefully he wouldn’t flee. That would be a disappointing end to this one-sided fight.

 

Collaborate didn’t disappoint. He took two steps, then leaped, throwing himself across the space between them. As he flew, Leech dispatched the last remaining fighter. Collaborate landed, barely 5 feet away, then tripped, falling down at Corpsemaker’s feet. Perfect.

 

He took a step to his side and kicked the fallen mad hard, flipping him over on to his back. Then he stomped hard on the man’s chest, knocking off the breath from him. He leaned down on that leg, making eyecontact with the wheezing Epic.

“You are wasted with your fellows Collaborate. You have Power, that much is clear. I admire strength like that. So I will give you one chance to make the right choice. I can give you thousands of followers, the strength to shake cities and break mountains. As long as you Obey my every command. If you refuse, then I’ll kill you here and now, and your name will be forgotten by History.” He stared hard into the man’s eyes, and waited to see what he would do. Would he try for a desperate attack? Or take the offer?

[Kobold King he/him]

 

 

 

It, Lightwards thought to himself, taking in the dark jungle scenery, is good to be back.

 

He hadn't been gone long in the strictest sense, but already the floating museum felt like an old friend. Perhaps it was the scenery, the reptile-infested jungle bringing back a hint of nostalgia. It brought back faint memories--memories of a little boy who once played with his plastic dinosaurs in an overgrown neighbor's yard. Memories a time long before he realized what a twisted terrible travesty a human life was.

 

But mixed with that nostalgia and bitterness was a conviction.  This is where the cure begins, he thought with a dark smile. From this point outwards, the travesty of existence ends. 

 

When he smelled this humid dusty air, he smelled hope.

 

 

 

And also smoke.

 

He stopped in his tracks along with Lucentia, his contentment again giving way to anger as a group of dark forms dragged themselves from the shadowy forest.

 

“Finally finished your business for the day, did ya?" a familiar voice drawled from the darkness. One of the few lights left intact in the forest lit up the face of Nighthound, smirking with flecks of dried blood dotted around his chin and mouth. There were two women by his side--one the collared trophy he'd taken earlier, and the other a petite girl with a ruddy dress that looked queasily like a giant scab.

 

But most intriguing was the form that Nighthound dragged along behind him--a crumpled human form in a Darth Vader mask and a kilt, unicycle conspicuously missing.

 

Nighthound went on, his voice smug. “Guess who turned out to actually be an Epic, was hidden by Funtimes here in the museum, came out of said hiding while everyone was away, tried to burn down this nice flammable forest Funtimes grew and tried to led away some of the dinosaurs in the confusion.”

 

He finished the story by kicking the treacherous creature in the side, drawing a pained grunt. Lightwards barely heard it, his mind filling with questions and outrages, each setting his teeth on edge further than the last.

 

She lied.

 

But of course she did. This was the same woman who passed off her pathetic toy as an Epic for no purpose but to make fools out of real Epics. This was par the course for her.

 

What else is she hiding?

 

He couldn't assume any of her claims were legitimate. Were all her vanillas Epics in disguise? Could all of them be Epics she'd somehow employed to disguise their true natures?

 

What is she planning?

 

That was easily answered. She'd joined him only on a whim, propelled along by the senseless hedonism that governed every moment of her existence. And that same chaotic meaninglessness drove her now to sabotage his efforts, less than a week after her alliance.

 

What will I do with her?

 

Again... simple. Kill her boyfriend and make him strangle her. Slowly and painfully.

 

Shaking himself back to the present, Lightwards knelt by the Unicyclist and glared into his emotionless visor. In an ironic turn of events, the beaten Epic was emitting pained gasps through the helmet not unlike those of the galaxy-threatening supervillain of the Star Wars franchise.

 

Wordlessly Lightwards grabbed the visor and wrenched it open, revealing... a human face. A plain face. Underneath the helmet and all the flames and bagpipes was one of the plainest faces he'd ever laid eyes upon, that of a slightly balding middle-aged man with a square face.

 

Immediately the Unicyclist shook himself from his stupor, rolling on the ground as he tried to cover his face from sight. A feral whine escaped his lips--the first sound that wasn't a bagpipe note he'd heard from the man, in fact.

 

"Silence," Lightwards growled, gripping the panicking man by his collar. He yanked him upwards, glaring into the face he seemed so desperate to cover. "For your treachery your life is forfeit. I am well within my rights to throw you bodily from this Museum, and I may still do so. If you have any desire to play your ridiculous music another day, you will answer my every question. You may start with this one: what did Funtimes hope to accomplish tonight?"

[mail-mi he/him]

Timeport blinked.

 

Which was a huge accomplishment, really. Something had whacked him on the back of the head, and he’d collapsed and blacked out for a couple of seconds. Well, he thought it was only a couple of seconds, considering it was still just as light outside as it had been before. 

 

As soon as he could think, his thoughts turned to rage. WHO THE SPARKS JUST TRIED TO KILL ME?!?!

 

Rage contorted his face as he shifted to get up. 

 

 

Sidestep smiled. I killed an Epic today, he thought proudly, and it wasn’t even much of a fight. Hefting the axe over his shoulder, Sidestep turned to walk awa--

 

The Epic moved. 

 

Sidestep almost screamed as he instinctively flipped into his dimension. The flip instantly calmed him, reminding him that he too was powerful. 

 

...but not too powerful. Sidestep cautiously flipped back into the real world. The Epic was struggling to get up. With a holler, Sidestep brought the axe down onto his neck and severed off his head. 

There was an instant flash of pain, and Timeport was suddenly in darkness, bathed only in the light of God. Remembering his thoughts from before, Timeport could feel God’s disapproval staring down at him.

 

“I...am sorry for my thoughts. Please forgive me of my trespasses.” Timeport said hesitantly and insincerely. He’d only apologized sincerely once before in his life, and that had been when his “friends” had been trying to heal and help him. 

 

They never wanted to actually help me, Timeport thought. They were just waiting to betray me. Well, they got their wish. And I got my revenge.

 

Smiling at the memories of the hunt, Timeport closed his eyes and waited for resurrection. 

 

 

Sidestep jumped as the Epic’s body disappeared. Oh no... he thought with growing dread. He’s a resurrector.... He swallowed. 

 

How in Calamity’s name am I going to defeat this guy?!

Only darkness hit his eyes when Timeport resurrected. Darkness...and something else. 

 

No...

 

He tried to move his arms to get up, but he couldn’t. Something was pressing on his body, and Timeport’s mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusions. 

 

Wa...No!

 

Suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He was trapped underneath the surface of the...NO!!

 

Drowning. He was drowning. Unbidden memories rose up to the surfaces, memories of nightmares of many years since that day at the pool.... He opened his mouth to scream, and the water seeped into his mouth, and he was going to die for certain, and...

 

...and the water tasted strangely like dirt. 

 

Oh.

 

Timeport teleported up. Only his foot was left stuck in the concrete, which was starting to crack because of the hole now underneath it. He teleported forward and up slightly, to force himself out of the concrete. The guy that had killed him was standing there, looking at where Timeport’s body had been.

 

And he was holding Timeport’s battle axe.

 

Furious, Timeport stuck out his arm and ported forward. 

Edited May 19, 2015 by mail-mi

[Voidus]

Grimacing as the pain of strained muscles hit him, Collaborate lay on his back, staring into a pair of cold, remorseless eyes.

The eyes of death.

Collaborate had been close to death many times, his powers were also a big target on his head in a fight, people tended to want to take out the guy who was hurling people through walls as quickly as possible. But he had no defensive powers, so he was frequently hurt while on missions, the adrenaline rushing through his body had masked the pain but the threat was always there.

But this, this was the first time he'd truly felt afraid of it, the first time he'd faced a situation from which there was no escape, he either did what Corpsemaker said or he would die. There was no soldier to shield him, no wall to take cover behind.

Just him and those eyes.

Wheezing out a breath, Collaborate met the eyes and nodded once.

"I'm yours." He said simply.

Minutes later he was walking into the Dominions main compound on Corpsemakers orders. Perhaps he would make good on his promise and give him a thousand soldiers.

But even if he had a thousand men following him, Collaborate was not sure that he would ever be able to face those eyes.

 

Opening her eyes, her real eyes Neverthere blinked steadily for a few moments, adjusting to the light in the room.

Epics still bustled about, many were showing off their abilities, weak though they were. Small jets of fire leaped around the room before being inexplicably doused by a shift in the air as two Epics faced off.

Striding past them, Neverthere forced her stiff muscles into the inane smile she always wore when dealing with Epics. Men in particular seemed to fall for it, dismissing her as soon as they saw her, however much the world had changed people were still not used to imagining that a smiling, petite young woman skipping down the hall was any kind of a threat.

As she reached the doors to the outside they blew open in a blur, a rush of wind slammed into her, tousling her hair and chilling her skin.

"Rapid?" She said as she recognized the figure. "Thought you were out with the Thoughttown group. Come back to let everyone know that Refill's dead?"

The blur stilled into the figure of a young man, massaging his legs as he stopped.

"Yeah, how did you- oh, right. Dumb question. You were watching of course." He said, mouth grimacing in pain. "Dammit, I think I fractured something again, do we have anyone who can fix that sort of thing?"

"No idea." Neverthere replied grinning. "Check with Zip, he's got the list of everyone's powers. While you're there let him know I'll be out for a while, need to check up on something."

Halfway through the doorway she was check by a hand on her shoulder and a serious glance.

"Check on something? We both know you don't need to leave to do that. What are you actually doing? Leaving us? Joining one of those 'High Epic' rulers who always lord it over us?"

Shrugging the hand from her shoulder, Neverthere bolted, hair flying in the wing as she wound her way between trees and hopped the gate before darting into an alley.
 

Rapid stopped, wincing again as he'd strained his legs.

"Trying to outrun a speedster? Not the best idea." He wheezed to Neverthere, watching her figure shrink further into the darkness.

"I'm not going back with you." She said turning round a corner at full pelt.

Speeding after her he watched her as she ran. Her black skirt almost invisible in the darkness, though her shirt stood out like a beacon. Her black ringlets, hanging still in the night air-

Still?

Trying to stop himself, Rapid flung both arms out, too late as he careened into the dead end that Neverthere had run into, her own form collapsing into mist as it hit the wall a split second before he did.

The mist formed back into the smiling Neverthere as Rapid bled onto the ground, both arms had bones jutting from them, snapped from the impact.

"Trying to chase someone who can disappear? An even worse idea." She said, voice echoing in the alley as her projection was joined by her real body, stepping out from the shadows of a nearby doorway.

 

"Sorry Rapid, can't have you following. Nobody's ever allowed to know where I really am, because if they know where to look then I'm never there."

Rapid screamed as the knife entered him, he tried to fight back, to ward her off, but with two useless arms and one useless leg he couldn't do anything. No matter how fast he was.

Edited August 19, 2015 by Voidus

[mail-mi he/him]

 

Sidestep swallowed nervously and began to search for where the Epic was. He swiveled his head around, and, when he didn’t spot him, took one last glance at where the Epic’s body had been, then turned around to look for him behind him.

 

He didn’t have to look much.

 

Pure hatred and rage was written all over the Epic’s face, but he wasn’t looking at Sidestep. He was looking down at the axe in Sidestep’s hands. He lifted up his arm and reached his hand out toward Sidestep’s chest, slowly and menacingly, and Sidestep did what any true Epic wouldn’t do. 

 

He screamed, dropped the axe, and flipped to the other dimension. 

 

He ran as hard as he could and as fast as he could back toward HQ, only flipping back into the real world when he needed a breath. He didn’t bother to look to see if the Epic was following, or if he was just happy to have his axe back, or anything. Only one thought ran through Sidestep’s mind as he finally collapsed onto a broken park bench, completely worn out from running nonstop. 

 

I’m a failure.

Timeport reappeared half a second too late. 

 

The puny Epic was gone. 

 

He had disappeared. 

 

Taking Timeport’s axe with him. 

 

“YOU GET BACK HERE LITTLE EPIC!” Timeport screamed at the top of his lungs, stomping around on the spot where the minor Epic had stood. “YOU BRING MY AXE BACK OR I SWEAR I WILL NEVER STOP HUNTING YOU DOWN!” 

 

He set his foot down one more time...

 

...and the handle of his axe jumped up into the air. Looking down, Timeport saw that he’d stomped down right onto the head of his axe, which was just casually laying on the ground like nothing had happened. 

 

Oh.

 

He bent down and grabbed the handle, hefting the familiar weight onto his shoulder. He debated going after the Epic, but decided against it. The sun had set a while ago, and Corpsemaker probably wanted him back in the armory. 

 

That did not mean, however, that he was never going to get his revenge. I will get you little Epic, he thought as he blinked to the armory. I will get you.

Edited June 9, 2015 by mail-mi

[Voidus]

Yorrick stared up into the night sky. More accurately he stared up at the great shadow which obscured a large swathe of the night sky, showing great disdain as he did so.

Well the shadow would not trouble them for much longer.

"Alright." He said tersely. "Everyone gather up, try to spread your weight as evenly as you can."

A small group of people approached, tentatively stepping onto the bed of flaming skulls on which Yorrick currently stood.

Stitch stood at the front, still yammering on about some hot Epic he'd seen once.

"Stitch. Zombies." Yorrick grunted at the man.

"Oh right, Jerry! Get up here with the others!" Stitch called needlessly, the corpse wasn't a real zombie, it had no senses or free will, it was just an animated corpse. Just like the half dozen others that Stitch had picked up.

Once everyone was on the eerie platform of bleached white bone and flame, Yorrick settled himself down before exerting his full power on the skulls. The flames grew brighter as the platform lifted slowly into the air, steadily gathering speed it flew towards the floating museum.

"Right." Stitch said, deciding he had taken over leadership. "Everyone here? Everyone alive? Oops, sorry Jerry no offense intended. Now Yorrick here came up with this plan to fly us all up to the museum, that's what I call using his head eh guys?"

 

Receiving no response from the assembled Epics, Stitch chuckled wryly before continuing on, unfazed.

 

"So, I'll be entering the museum to hold of attackers along with these fine young corpses, Yorrick, C4, Scrapyard, you guys will be working on the museums base, Yorrick will move you along, C4 you know what to do, Scrapyard's there for defence if needed. The rest are with me, we'll keep the dinos and whatever else comes out of that museum inside if we can. Once C4 is finished, Scrapyard will, I don't know turn into a loudspeaker or something, let us know and we can jump out and meet up on the ground."

Several ominous shadows loomed overhead, screeching loudly at the sight of the approaching flaming platform the dinosaurs thankfully didn't attack.

Reaching the base of the museum, Yorrick splintered his platform in two, sending the one containing Stitch and the others towards the entrance where they climbed off. C4 immediately got to work, a clear gel spraying from her hands onto the underside of the museum as she smiled gleefully.

Girl does love blowing stuff up. Still, can't really blame her, Portland is in for some fantastic fireworks tonight.

A shout from above, inside the museum took his attention for a moment before he recognized it.

Stitch you idiot. Does the word stealth mean anything to you?

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

Stitch climbed off of the platform of flaming skulls onto the museum entrance, helping his other Epics off he had Jerry wave the all clear before lifting him up off the platform to join him. The skulls floated away, Yorrick no doubt intending to use them to defend himself if need be.

Stitch was supposed to wait at the entrance for people to notice them before he did anything, but that was what the old Stitch would have done. He'd come here to challenge Lightwards to a duel of the necromancers and he wasn't about to let C4 steal that from him by just blowin everything up.

"HEY LIGHTWARDS GET YOUR OLD NECROMATIC BUTT OUT HERE!" He yelled, before bracing himself against the flurry of blows that whittle leveled against him.

"What? Waiting is boring" He said in his defense.

[Fatebreaker he/him]

The Mad Ballooner was in a foul mood. Because of his power no one took him seriously. He had volunteered to partake in the attack on the enemies in the floating museum by providing a mean of transportation to the floating fortress. Initially, the other MEE members had agreed that it was a good idea and had taken him up on his offer, but when that oaf Yorick had offered to do the same but with flaming skulls, Baron von Shtiekelwurst and his multicolored balloons were forgotten. They had swept that cursed graverobber away, championing him as the answer to all of their problems. The fools! He would show them true power! 

 

He stopped in the middle of the street, a short distance away from the floating museum and barked at Schultz

 

"Schultz! Prepare for ze attack oppuration! Initiate opperation Flyink Deaths!"  

 

Schultz nodded and put down the wooden frame he had been carrying. It looked like and outline for a large rowboat.  He backed away from the construct and held his hands in front of him. Tape began to materialize from his palms, moving and twisting like snakes. It began folding upon itself at blinding speed, forming a skin around the rowboat. Layer upon layer folded itself around the craft, eventually forming what looked like a duct-tape boat. The Baron inspected it briefly, then pointed to a hole near one of the edges, shouting loudly

 

"Shultz! Vat is zis?! Zere appears to be a breach in ze side of ze crahft! You vould be havink us plummet to our dooms?!? Huh?!?!?"

 

Schultz looked at him for a moment, translating the horrific accent in his mind to comprehendable words. Then he pointed to the identical holes all around the edges of the craft.

 

"They are for the ropes from the balloon, herr Baron." 

 

The Baron opened his mouth as if to continue shouting, then said nothing as his brain worked out what Schultz meant. He decided to yell anyway while he struggled to vocalize his irritation at the assumption he had been wrong

 

"Vell, uh, I, vell vhy didn't you say so?!?! I know vhat zey vhere for! ANYVON kould tell you zat! I was just making shure you vhere payink attenshun! Now I vill get back to doink my job vithout distractions from ze likes of you!"

 

He blustered loudly as he walked over to the craft. He glared once at his surroundings to ensure everyone was paying him the proper respect for a man of his station, then used his powers.

 

First came the ropes which he and Schultz tied into the specially created loops. Then came the balloon.

It was shaped like a classic dirigible, and grew larger and larger till  it was over twenty five feet long and six feet in diameter. As the balloon reached target size, the craft began to lift off. The pair of epics jumped in and soon they were airborne as the balloon grew larger and larger. Schultz pulled some gravatronics equipment from his pack and attached it to the sides and underside of the makeshift gondola with his tape abilities. Over the years they had learned that the extra lift the gravatronics provided was extremely helpful when lifting large loads, so they had acquired several lightweight, streamlined pieces from a broker in back east.

 

"Schultz!" cried the baron once they had risen above the surrounding buildings, "Create ze sails and sings!"

 

Schultz nodded and set about creating tape sails on additional framework they had brought. He attached these to the sides of the balloon, as well as create a simple rudder system with which to steer. This was all done in a matter of minutes, thought the Mad Ballooner acted as if it had taken hours. 

 

" Geez, kould you verk any slowver? By ze time ve get zhere, ze fighink vill be over and ve vill lose all of ze fame and glory! Mine dead grossmutter could make zis faster zan you."

 

Yet despite the baron's complaints they were soon flying towards the floating museum at a reasonable speed. Schultz checked his weapons as the Mad Ballooner stroked his bristled mustache in anticipation.

 

Yes, this was power to be feared. Let the Empire of Light tremble, for the Mad Ballooner was on his way!

 

- - - - - - -

 

Philip Phranklin was outside, sweeping what remained of his porch when he felt something cast a large shadow over him. He looked up, quiverring in fear, waiting for an allosaurus to rip him in half or a pteranodon to peak his eyes out. But instead of a dinosaur, he saw what appeared to be a dirigible made from various kinds of tape and balloons flying towards the floating museum, piloted by a WWI German fighter pilot. He stared at it a moment, then let the broom fall as he sat down and put his head in his hands. Things had never been the same since those new neighbors moved in. He  wonderred if they had to worry about tape blimps and evil dinosaurs over in Thought Town. Why was it that his neighborhood got all of the crazy Epics? Maybe it was time for him to move. He'd heard Corvalis was a nice place...

[Edgedancer he/him]

Lucentia took notice that Lightwards did a decent enough job in bullying the Unicyclist. Decisive ultimatum and clear demands.

 

Meanwhile she noticed Nighthound’s new slave girl staring at her or at the very least her right arm and then looking back and forth from her to Nighthound. Maybe she noticed the family resemblance? Or this time her brother picked up a girl that was to impressionable and uncertain by far.

 

Eventually, the girl pulled herself back a bit and slit her own wrist, gathering the blood streaming out of it in amounts much larger than would be considered normal into little orbs.

 

Lucentia couldn’t be as disapproving of her brother picking her up as she’d like to. Seeing him keep a female blood Epic of petite build around showed her that he did have more affection for have Mary than some kind of fling. Now she’d only have to get that silly notion of independence out of him in the time it took for her to drag him back to Astoria.

 

None of it connected to the little scab of course, if anything she’d have to repeat the work she had with Mary and teach her not to get blood stain her all over, to make sure she stops to be the disgusting sanitary nightmare she presented right now.

 

At least this one wasn’t constantly trying to kill him.

 

All the while the Unicyclist, now unmasked, gave out a chain of swearing that ultimately ended with him stating the obvious about Funtimes.

 

"HEY LIGHTWARDS GET YOUR OLD NECROMATIC BUTT OUT HERE!" A scream rang out from somewhere within the museum.

 

Lucentia cursed inwardly, the atrocity had actually told them the truth about the attack. Still, if she also told the truth about this attack coming from less powerful Epics, even someone associating with that thing wouldn’t be foolish enough to hope and take on Lightwards in his domain, even less all of them.

 

Even if the world is full of cretins better sense dictates to take action assuming they have at least some shred of competence.

 

Keeping her expression straight she turned around and walked back out of the entry. Under her feet diamond grew, still connected to the museum, to give her footing. She created a spiral staircase to allow for her descent.

 

Once she was on height with the museums bottom she started to grow a platform for herself. Next to her Nighthound landed, little puffs of darkness streaming out of his legs, resting in a crouched position. “I take it you actually have an idea what’s going on?” He asked.

 

“Naturally,” she pointed towards three figures working on the underside of the museum, illuminated by something flaming they were standing on, “from what it looks like the Slontz screaming up there was a distraction for these three working on the flying mechanism.”

  

A smile crept on his brother’s face, “I see. We’d better get to work then.”

 

One of the flaming objects shoot towards Nighthound’s face. He just calmly stayed in his crouched position, as a spike shoot out of the diamond platform. It pierced the projectile, holding it in place. On closer inspection it was a skull. Lucentia crushed the skull in a diamond ball and let its dust fall down to the ground.

 

“Ray should come down in a bit using the staircase; feel free to tell her to shoot at people. I’ll go ahead and enjoy myself a bit with them.” Nighthound continued without paying any mind to the projectile.

 

He walked over the edge of slowly expanding platform and Lucentia grew a tendril for him to walk on, as he headed towards the minor Epics.

                                                                                                            

 

The attack on Thoughttown had ended. The moment the enemy retreated and the danger was over Voidgaze almost collapsed from exhaustion. She hadn’t run around as much as she did today for years.

 

Not quite yet, however. Both she and Disparo helped one last group, some of them no longer capable of walking on their own, of wounded back to the infirmary.

 

The staff in the infirmary took the soldiers out of their hand, with Panacea around Voidgaze was sure they’d get better. Please, let me be right.

 

Voidgaze asked one of the staff members about Big Al, he told her that he apparently had visited in shorty but left again, because he had no major injuries to speak of, so the care could be given to people that needed it more.

 

On her way out Voidgaze dismissed Disparo. The woman said her goodbyes with another salute. Voidgaze had to admit that having someone treat her with so much respect did fill her with a bit of pride.

 

Now alone Voidgaze headed back for her room. She’d not see Big Al until tomorrow then, no idea where his room is. Then it would be tomorrow at breakfast, they could… what. They’d… kissed… right? So did that make them a couple? Big Al was a great guy, to the point where he even risked his life for her, and well he’s really cute but things were moving so fast.

 

Absentminded, her thoughts swirling about Al’s good qualities, she entered her room. “Rita, you’re alright, that’s great.” Big Al, standing right in the middle of her room, greeted her.

 

Voidgaze’s mind went blank.

 

“I’m sure you’re tired but there was something I still needed to give you. For one,” the white cat from before strolled over to Voidgaze, “I talked with the cafeteria lady and she said that with all the cats running around she’d appreciate it if you could take care of this one. As for the other one, here.”

 

He pulled out a white scarf and wrapped it around Voidgaze, resting his hands on her shoulders. “I thought it might be of use to you and it looks really good on you.”

 

It was a really cute gesture, with a lot of thought really. She tried to thank him, her voice stuck in her throat, letting only a high pitched noise out.

 

“About before Rita, that wasn’t meant to scare you of or anything. I actually really like you and I’m sorry if I did anything I shouldn’t have done.”

 

Cutting out all the nervous thoughts in her head Voidgaze threw herself at Big Al, who was starting to look uncomfortable with the situation, and gave him a quick kiss.

 

“I… I really don’t mind. I mean you can do it again and you actually taste like McMuffins, which taste really good but that isn’t why I don’t mind it and my face is completely red, isn’t it? I’m really embarrassed and I probably won’t be able to stop rambling until you-“

 

They kissed again.

 

This time it was more than just a quick peg on the lips. It was the kind of kiss leads two both of them embracing each other. It was the kind of kiss that made up for her embarrassed rambling in getting her feelings across.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

 

Lightwards expected one of two things: either outright defiance or a begging plead for mercy. Either would have failed to please him, of course, and either would have led to the unmasked Epic's swift demise.

 

Instead, the Unicyclist broke into a hectic and frenzied stream of curses. From the plain man's lips came nothing but garbled sentences of the foulest, most vile language Lightwards had ever heard. Words that had either never before been mixed in the same curse, or had been thus mixed only in such vulgar cesspools of language that he'd never even come across the notion that they could be mixed.

 

Bewildered by the seemingly neverending stream of obscenities pouring from the prisoner, Lightwards cast questioning glances at the other Epics in his company. Lucentia, as usual, seemed unimpressed. Nighthound was smirking, though whether he was directing the smile at the cursing or at his newest pet slitting her arteries was anyone's guess. And then there were Aldo and Cricket, who were apparently impressed enough to be holding a pair of "10" signs the magician seemed to have pulled from his pockets.

 

After the deluge of expletives was over, the Unicyclist finally pulled himself together, gritting his teeth and glowering as he answered the original question.

 

""She," he hissed, "is too dumb to plan anything."

 

Still shocked out of his initial fury, Lightwards monitored the plain man's face. If he was lying to cover his mistress's involvement, he was making a good show of it. The mixture of emotions on the Epic's face seemed genuine; anger, contempt, hatred.

 

And a hearty dose of fear. Not merely a fear of being killed; a deeper fear. The kind of fear only Epics knew, and the kind none would admit.

 

A smile tugged at Lightwards' lips.  I believe I've chanced upon your weakness, you atrocious pile of insanity.

 

He opened his mouth to give a fresh ultimatum, only to be interrupted by a hollering voice from somewhere by the Museum's entrance.

 

"HEY LIGHTWARDS!" a man's voice shouted. "GET YOUR OLD NECROMANTIC BUTT OUT HERE!"

 

Get my what out there?

 

His anger began flooding back to him, and he felt his hand clutching around the pistol at his belt. 

 

"Watch that one," he instructed Aldo as he left, gesturing at the Unicyclist. "Make sure that if he fights, it's for the right side."

 

"Yes, sir," Aldo saluted, pulling a saber from his pocket and raising it on high. Cricket yawned, but she gave the Unicyclist a light kick in the ribs to show she'd heard.

 

With that out of the way, Lightwards determinedly turned into the dark forest and marched to the source of the challenging shout, animating a trio of raptors to walk by his side. They stalked behind and ahead of him, swishing their tails back and forth in anticipation.

 

Before long he stepped in front of a pair of Epics standing in the halls. The first was an older man with a tidy beard and a flannel shirt, like some sort of sophisticated lumberjack. The other was a slightly younger man, a smug look etched on his face and the word "Stitch" stitched in brazen thread across his shirt and tie.

 

Around them were slumped, slouching men. They were only barely standing, as if invisible strings were the only things preventing them from falling to the floor. It took only a glance for Lightwards to realize they were only puppets to an Epic's will--by the look of them, they didn't even possess the small amount of autonomy his own Warriors had.

 

Lightwards walked within their view, the eyes of his raptors flashing dangerously in the darkness as they circled the intruders. He himself looked the one called Stitch in the eye, stepping beside him. From this close he could tell that the puppets around them were dead corpses, their eyes closed and beginning to smell. They were almost laughably shallow when compared to his own necromantic creations.

 

"You called me to you," Lightwards said softly, speaking slowly to convey the menace he was feeling. "You know my name and the power I call my own."

 

Without warning he reached out a hand and gripped one of Stitch's automatons by the arm, reanimating it and bending it to his will. Bloody thread burst from its skin and was violently expelled from the body, as Lightwards' new Warrior took his place beside his new master.

 

"What, then, gives you the confidence to think you could call me out here, with no more respect you'd use for addressing a vanilla, in the late hours of the night?"

[Voidus]

Nighthound.

Yorrick glared as he recognized the crouching figure on the diamond platform, that evil black mist seeping from his body.

His first skull was quickly turned into dust by an arm of diamond that grew out of the platform, Lucentia's doing no doubt.

"C4, keep going, I'm taking Scrapyard to deal with these guys, if anything happens to us blow what you've already made and jump down, Stitch will catch you before you hit the ground. Scrapyard be careful, that one uses diamonds to attack, ordinary metal won't be any good against her. Can you make diamond tipped tools?"

"Never know unless I try." Scrapyard replied as their burning platform split in two, one heading towards the oncoming threat, the other continuing to move slowly along, letting C4 continue to secrete her explosive gel over the flying mechanisms.

"Time to die Nighthound." Stitch said ominously astride his flaming platform. He reformed his throne of skulls beneath him, Nighthound's skull he would place at the very top, a sign to all that Yorrick would not stand for such corruption and evil.

Yorrick split his remaining skulls into three groups, the ones carrying Scrapyard he sent off to the side, attempting to flank the approaching Nighthound. The second group he sent straight on, spreading them out so that their flames obscured a large swathe of the museum from his opponents vision. The last group he gave some forward momentum too and then released from his powers, their flames extinguishing as they dropped through the air.

A frontal assault, a flanking maneuver and an invisible attack from underneath. Let us see how well you handle this you fiend.

 

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

Stitch glared indignantly as Lightwards casually touched one of his zombies and expelled all the thread from the body, removing him from Stitch's control and placing him under Lightwards'.

"What, then, gives you the confidence to think you could call me out here, with no more respect you'd use for addressing a vanilla, in the late hours of the night?" The necromancer asked.

Stitch recalled the threads to him, the bloody string leaping through the air into his outstretched hand.

"Speaking of respect didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to steal? Naughty, naughty Lightwards." Stitch said.

The thread in his hand met with the metal-tipped sting he carried around his shoulders, the fibers breaking apart and twining together to make one complete thread once more.

"See I've been hearing round town that everyone's been all impressed by some new necromancer and his floating castle of dinosaurs but ya see I've been here for a lot longer than you and I don't think the town's big enough for two Necromancers, and while one needs some sparkly cannibal monster to make his castle float. The other-"

Stitch interrupted himself, concentrating on the threads of his own clothes he lifted himself off the ground, trying not to show how uncomfortable it was when the clothing bunched up in all sorts of awkward places.

 

"Well the other can float just fine by himself."

[Edgedancer he/him]

This was very much reminiscent of the old times, together killing some slontze, though usually they would have searched for something that’s a proper challenge and started the fight on their own terms. Oh well, those three would have to serve.

 

Still not quite the good old times, with his sister obediently weeping at his feet but alas those times wouldn’t return, he’d have to accept her the way she was now, which wasn’t without its advantages.

 

Meanwhile the three Epics were splitting up, one setting to work at the underside of the museum, another heading to their side on a platform of skulls and the last one building himself a floating throne.    

 

The remaining skulls spread out, the flames emitting from them making it hard to tell more details about the attackers, some of them dropping downwards, as their flames extinguished. Better keep those in mind.

 

Skulls shoot at Nighthound. The first one punched out of the air, the impact crushing both the skull and his fist. Using the gap he created Nighthound pushed forward through the other skulls. Pulling his weight around Nighthound threw a kick through the gathered skulls, crushing multiple bones as he cleaved through them.

 

However they were so abundant that yet more swarmed him. Given the wrangled state of one of his legs, Nighthound didn’t so much dodge, as he just let himself fall off the tendril, multiple streaks of fire shooting away above him.

 

Diamond grew around his foot, catching his fall and flung him towards the Epic send to their side. Nighthound took the chance to survey his surroundings, he still couldn’t see any flames rising back up, Lucentia had seated herself on her own throne made from diamonds looking rather bored, as she let more diamond spread out and Ray had made her way down the staircase.

 

Nighthound caught himself on another branch of crystal over him and swung himself back up on his feet. The platform carrying the Epic descended in front of him. Nighthound lunged forward to grab his opponent.

 

The other Epic jerked his arm upward and it turned into a buzzsaw. It ripped through Nighthound's arm, spreading blood and dark mist all over the two of them. It wasn’t enough to stop Nighthound however and he managed to grab the backside of the saw Epic with the remaining stump of his hand.

 

With a strong push Nighthound heaved him from his platform and slammed his head into another skull aimed at Nighthound. Further skulls were pulled back from their attack to avoid hitting his ally. The skulls making up the platform tried to shoot at Nighthound but were caught and crushed by a diamond outgrow.

 

Nighthound watched his opponent come back to his feet, his face covered in metal, which most likely saved him from having his head smashed in. By the time he came back to his feet Nighthound flippantly waved his arm, the darkness seeping out of it obscuring the vision between them for a short moment, before the wound closed up.

 

The saw Epic charged at him, arm transformed into a drill. A tentacle made from diamond caught his drill arm. For a moment sparks flew as the drill ripped chunks out of the construct but it continued to grow back relentlessly and ultimately managed to cover his arm and then clamped down on it. There was a grating sound and the entire diamond twisted, ripping out his arm.  

 

Cursing he stumbled backwards and the platform collapsed under him. He attempted to get hold of something, swinging around his remaining arm, turned into a pickaxe but everything he managed to get a hold on simply crumbled to dust as well.

 

Looking back at the Epic controlling the skulls he was being chased around by multiple diamond tentacles. Lucentia pulled the one Nighthound was standing on away, so he ended up in front of the Epic's throne, putting him between the two thrones and blocking their sight on each other.

 

“So you have come Nighthound. I shall end you,” the Epic said, his voice shaking with barely contained hatred.

“Sorry Skullface, but do I know you?” Nighthound asked, while pointing at one of the many man he somehow angered. A glance downwards showed that finally the dropped skulls ignited again and rose upwards, fast.

“You don’t know me but you shall die for my revenge!”

“Nah, I’m just here to watch your face.” Nighthound said, while holding his hands up defensively.

 

An energy lance pierced through Nighthound’s stomach and buried itself into the other’s throath. The skulls from below almost reached Nighthound, as they flamed up one last time, illuminating the museums underside in an eerie purple light before losing their momentum and falling to the ground. Skullface died with one last blood spitting rasp and Ray let him fall to the ground along with his skulls, the shocked look on his face as he realized that he was still just as mortal as any pathetic mongrel was quite worth it getting stabbed himself.

 

That leaves us with one remaining Epic.

[Kobold King he/him]

 

 "See I've been hearing round town that everyone's been all impressed by some new necromancer and his floating castle of dinosaurs," the man called Stitch boasted, "but ya see I've been here for a lot longer than you and I don't think the town's big enough for two Necromancers, and while one needs some sparkly cannibal monster to make his castle float. The other-"

 

Stitch's brow furrowed for a minute, before he lifted entirely into the air and high beyond the reach of the raptors.

 

"Well the other can float just fine by himself."

 

So they think I'm weak.

 

Lightwards felt his eye twitch, and his heart begin pounding once more.

 

His alliance with Funtimes was meant to give him an upper hand. All it had done was make him a laughingstock, even to cretins as laughable as this.

 

I don't have time for this, he decided grumpily. As if in an idle movement, he pinched a piece of dried blood from his coat.

 

"Yes, you can float," Lightwards admitted sardonically. "That is most impressive. And my honest congratulations for the ability to control thread--I'm sure the Portland knitting club crumpled like leaves before a storm when faced with your might."

 

Stitch's face contorted with indignation, but Lightwards ignored him.

 

"While you're still here," he continued, "Thank you for raising yourself to a convenient allosaur feeding height."

 

Without any more ado, he tossed the scab high into the air, pushing his power into it as he did. It soared through the air, gaining in mass as it flew.

 

Halfway to Stitch, the scab had taken the skeletal form of an enormous dinosaur, flesh, scales and feathers still sprouting over its half-finished frame.

 

The half-animated dinosaur began arcing back to the ground, but it was still high enough. In a single lunge of its neck, the alloaur seized the startled Stitch in its jaws, banana-sized teeth skewering through his torso.

 

The allosaur's legs grew back just as it fell back to the ground, creating a booming, shaking sound that reverberated across the Museum. As loud as it was, it could only begin to mask the dying shrieks of the man called Stitch, as he and his bloody threads disappeared down the dinosaur's gullet.

 

Lightwards smiled, leveling a gun at the other Epic.

"I do not steal," he said softly, "because every corpse in this city is mine. And I need no glittery abominations to dispatch such trifling threats as you. Now tell me. How many others are attacking my fortress?"

[Edgedancer he/him]

Lucentia send a diamond tendril after the fallen Epic. Whatever she did with the underside of the museum it wouldn’t do for it to send the museum falling just as a last act of spite. She managed to grab her and pulled her up.

 

Her brother came back to her, casually hoping from one diamond strand to another, not minding the potential fall of multiple thousands of feet. Once he reached them he petted the redhead and praised her for following his instructions.

 

The slave girl bit her lip, eye cast down and fists balled, a picture to pointless defiance against her betters. Not that her brother minded that, as long as she was weak enough for him to dominate. If anything the girl was lucky to be allowed her little defiance for any amount of time instead of being brutalized for a single night of enjoyment.

 

All three of them turned their attention to the captured Epic, whose chain just dragged them before them. It was a woman, black hair and a blue dress. Her feet and the hem of her dress were caught in the diamond and she hanged head-down in front of them, slightly under eye level, uselessly trying to get free.

 

“If you do anything out of place, your life is forfeit.” Lucentia said, sitting in her throne, legs folded and her arms firmly placed on the armrests.

“Of course,” the other Epic responded.

“Good. I want a simple yes or no from you, except from the fool that called Lightwards out directly, is there anyone else involved into your little charade?”

“I-“

 

Before she could say another word the diamond whipped out in motion more fluid than one would except from crystal and slammed the little Epic against the ground. She groaned in pain, as she was pulled back up.

 

“Yes or no, I don’t want to hear another word from you for now,” Lucentia coldly told her, “In case you get any ideas about loyalty or fear some kind of revenge from them, he can come up with enough atrocities on the top of his head to make you talk.” She turned her around, so the prisoner looked at Nighthound, who had a hungry look in his eyes. "Your answer."

“Yes.”

“Now you are allowed to tell me the details about them.”

 

The prisoner told her about the minor Epics involved in the attack and what their roles in it were, none of the minor Epics sounded like they would pose any threat to them. She continued to prod for alternative plans or other Epics that could reach the museum. According to her, after getting smashed against the floor a couple of times more, there were still a number of Epics but none of them should participate in this attack. One was even told not to come because he was to useless even by their standards. Meaning there was a decent chance for another flying Epic to show up be at as support, whoever ended up ordering this sham not telling her the entire plan because someone hidden in the museum needed a new way out after they killed all their options or the shamed Epic doing something stupid because of his wounded pride.

 

Lucentia set her ankles and wrists into manacles and dropped her to the ground. A chain made from diamonds grew out of Lucentia’s hand towards the little Epic and formed a collar around her throat. The diamond Queen tossed the leash to Nighthound. You deal with her.”

“Gladly,” Nighthound replied.

   

All the diamond amassed under the museum set into motion, it pushed itself up on the sides of the museum setting it in a position to intercept any flying objects heading for the museum, leaving only enough for the others to stand and return up to the museum. Her throne also shifted to allow her to better watch the sky.

Edited June 12, 2015 by Edgedancer

[mail-mi he/him]

 

“HEY LIGHTWARDS! GET YOUR OLD NECROMANTIC BUTT OUT HERE!”

 

Mommy slapped her forehead. Stealth, you idiot! She cautiously climbed off of the platform of floating skulls and made way towards the museum. She’d visited Portland before Calamity, and had visited the museum once.

 

It didn’t look nearly the same. 

 

Someone had turned the museum into a jungle. A full-fledged, tropical jungle. Mommy would have kept sightseeing, but she heard a gruff voice call out quietly: "You called me to you. You know my name and the power I call my own."

 

Lightwards.

 

Mommy ducked behind a tree and glimpsed out as Lightwards came up and spoke to Stitch. Stitch raised himself into the air, but that didn’t seem to impress Lightwards. Casually, he flicked a piece of blood off his jacket and it grew into an allosaur, eating Stitch right out of the air. 

 

An allosaur

 

And suddenly Mommy knew how she could help. 

 

Looking intently at Lightwards’ clothes, she erased the dried blood from them, leaving them looking worn yet pristine. 

 

Mommy smiled to herself. She’d actually started to hel--

 

--sparks. What if that guy kills me too?

 

Only Whittle was left alive inside. Who would say that the Epics on the underside of the museum weren’t dead too? Mommy could be one of the last two alive. My children need me! While Lightwards and the others were focused on Whittle, Mommy snuck out of the museum to hitch a ride on one of Yorrick’s skulls, but she didn’t see any skulls.

 

What she saw instead made her heart jump into her throat. 

 

Diamonds. Hanging from the museum. 

 

Lucentia.

 

The Queen of Mommy’s hometown. What was she doing here, in Portland? Why wasn’t she in Astoria? Maybe... Mommy thought. Maybe she was overthrown. Maybe someone else rules now. Someone who actually cares about the children. Maybe...

 

Maybe Mommy needed to get home, and not to that high school.

 

Maybe it was time to go back to Astoria. 

 

But first, she’d have to get off this museum. 

 

Mommy ducked into the shadow and stayed still. Maybe they wouldn’t notice her if she stayed quiet enough. She pressed her back against the wall of the museum and sunk to the floor, cleaning it up before she sat. It didn’t look like anyone was coming out or going in, so Mommy took the chance to make a call.

 

She raised her radio to her mouth and set it on the general MEE frequency. “This is Mommy at the museum,” she whispered into the radio. “Stitch is dead, and Whittle’s about to be. I don’t know about the underside people, but I think they’re goners too. At least, Yorrick’s dead, seeing all these skulls littered on the floor. I’m dead too, if I can’t get out of here quick. Is Airplane still at the high school? Send him here. I need to get out. I’m just outside the museum. Do not respond, unless it’s completely quiet. Over.” 

 

Mommy put her radio in her lap and took in a deep breath, and held it, staying as quiet as possible. She knew if she made even so much as a pebble bounce across the floor, she’d be a dead woman. 

 

Please, someone, come rescue me.

 

 

Airplane loved his arms.

 

First off, they were ripped. His flexed muscles were the size of tennis balls. They had been excellent assets in the wooing of ladies, but now they were excellent assets for something else too: flying. At will, he could turn his arms into a pair of airplane wings, complete with engines. Well, usually at will. Sometimes they randomly turned into the wings, which was sparking inconvenient, especially while he was sleeping. 

 

Speaking of sleeping, he was in Zip’s office talking to him at that very moment about his sleeping arrangements. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share a bed with Stitch, but he didn’t want to share a bed with Stitch.

 

“I guess we could put Stitch in Refill’s bed, considering the results of that attack, but I’m not sure Stitch would like the smell of i--”

 

He was cut off as something came through the radio. Airplane could just barely make out a whisper of a voice through the sounds of fighting in the background. “This is Mommy at the museum. Stitch is dead, and Whittle’s about to be. I don’t know about the underside people, but I think they’re goners too. At least, Yorrick’s dead, seeing all these skulls littered on the floor. I’m dead too, if I can’t get out of here quick. Is Airplane still at the high school? Send him here. I need to get out. I’m just outside the museum. Do not respond, unless it’s completely quiet. Over.” The radio cut out. 

 

Airplane smirked. Of course. The ladies were always asking after him. “Well, I guess that solves one problem,” Zip said, frowning. “The room’s all yours.” 

 

Airplane cocked his head at Zip. “Good.” Turning his arms into wings and growing a cockpit over his head, he angled his arms up and revved his engines, watching Zip’s face turn from impassive to distressed. 

 

“See ya,” Airplane said with a false smile, and blasted through the roof. 

 

...and through the next roof, and the next roof. His head rang and his vision swam as he tried to right himself in the sky. Stupid three-story building. Orienting himself to the big floating museum in the sky, he rotated his arms and took off. The night air was chilly on his bare back, but he didn’t mind. He hadn’t worn a shirt ever since Calamity had visited him, and rarely before then. 

 

He slowed as he approached the museum, searching for the olden-timey looking lady. He landed on the floating floor, stumbling right into the wall. 

 

Except the wall was soft and yelped quietly. 

 

“You made it!” Mommy shouted quietly. “Quick, get me out of here!” 

 

Airplane turned so she was facing his back. “Hold on.” Mommy wrapped her arms around his chest and squeezed tight as Airplane took off into the night. 

 

He flexed his abs for Mommy to feel as they flew. You like that, don’t’cha? Just like all the other ladies. As soon as they were a good distance away from the museum, Airplane slowed down, to give Mommy a chance to enjoy holding onto him as they flew. She wouldn’t get that much of a chance to without fighting off the flock of women that always chased after him after they got back. 

[Voidus]

Whittle stood frozen in the doorway to the museum, Stitch disappering down the throat of a creature from another era, another world.

And now he was the one receiving the stern gaze of Lightwards the necromancer.

Poor Stitch should have known better, if only the idiot had kept his mouth shut.

The sound of grinding machinery from below suddenly stopping had informed Whittle of Scrapyards propbable death, the sudden disappearance of Yorricks glowing skulls indicated his.

Is C4 Still alive? Oh god what if she blows the museum now while I'm still inside?

"3 others, down below." Whittle quickly replied, dropping to one knee and putting his hand to the ground. "One has explosive capabilities, she may try to blow up even part of the museum if she's not stopped."

Waiting for the split second where Lightwards gaze flickered away from his face, Whittle launched himself backwards and out of the museums doorway, into a several  hundred foot drop before running his hands along his clothes.

Form a a parachute, get back to the school, need to get away from the museum if it blows, the shrapnel might even reach the HQ though. No, I just need to get out of town, this whole idea was stupid.