What Happened in Portland

[Edgedancer he/him]

The couple teleported away. Nothing they could be blamed for but it was still a little bit disappointing. Instead, another couple exited the house. Their movements seemed a bit dull. More zombies? Meh, nothing to worry about unless they started to shot death rays.

 

Lightwards and rotten number one were in the process of reloading their guns. Nighthound made a quick leap forward and grabbed his opponent´s gun. “Honestly, at this point you are just being rude.” He jerked the gun out of Lightwards hands and tossed it over his shoulder.

 

Nighthound prepared to punch trough the little Epic´s stomach but was distracted by a shout from above. "Hey! Stupidface! Eat noodles, idiotbrain!” Both the rude glitter abomination and the smug face were standing on a nearby rooftop. The woman threw something at him, noodles if her screams were truthful, and they turned into a net midflight. Truly a misuse of good food that further proofed that her head was just as messed up as her clothes. Not that her partner seemed any more serious while carrying a leaf blower.

 

Instead of delivering the planned punch Nighthound gripped the wrist of Lightwards, who appeared to still be dumbfounded at the audacity of his allies, and tossed him towards the noodle net. Next, he jumped away from the net and, with a few fast strides, upon the roof of the house opposite the one the odd balls claimed.

[Kobold King he/him]

The next minute was a blur.

 

No sooner than Lightwards had summoned the Sadrys, his associates had teleported away, leaving him with only Donald as support. Cursing inwardly, he began reloading his pistol as quickly as he could.

 

"As quickly as he could" turned out to be a touch too slow. Nighthound darted forward in the blink of an eye, seizing his weapon and throwing it over his shoulder.

 

Lightwards vaguely heard shouting from a rooftop, in what he believed was Funtimes' voice. ""Hey! Stupidface! Eat noodles, idiotbrain!” Before he could process the strange statement, Nighthound gripped him by the wrist and swung him forwards.

 

The next thing he knew, Lightwards was lying on the ground, entangled by a thick net. "Get me out, Donald," he snarled vindictively, "I am going to disembowel that creature."

 

Donald characteristically took his master's rage in stride, pulling out a pocket knife and beginning to saw through the rope. Lightwards continued seething, wondering vaguely whether Funtimes made a habit of calling ropes noodles, or if these ropes had been noodles at some point. Either was an equally irritating possibility.

 

His anger was briefly interrupted by something crawling on the pavement besides him. Some kind of beetle, possibly a june bug, making its slow way across the stone in a typically ignorant manner. Time for you to join a greater cause, Lightwards though smugly, squashing the insect with his finger. He raised it almost simultaneous, allowing it to perch on his finger before flinging it through the net.

 

"Attack Nighthound," he told it quietly. He was stuck down here with no way of fighting, but maybe--just maybe--his associates were still battling the feral Epic, and would be aided by the help of an annoyingly aggressive june bug.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Doctor Funtimes stamped her feet. "No, no, no! That was for Stupidface!" 

 

Nathan would have rather thought through a strategy, but he wasn't a casino server caught in the wrong place. As far as anyone else was concerned, he was an Epic, and Epics didn't pause to think. 

 

So he didn't. 

 

The new Epic—Stupidface, according to Funtimes—made a flying leap onto the nearest rooftop. At the same time, a junebug rose from the ground and flitted round Stupidface's head as though its only goal was to pester him. 

 

Lightwards. 

 

It was the only opportunity he had. Nathan took aim with the leaf blower and flicked it into reverse. Pale brown liquid spewed out of the barrel. He turned to Funtimes. "Pancake batter? You're kidding." 

 

She laughed and flicked the leaf blower to its normal setting. A jet of hot air, so strong it nearly blew Nathan backward, shot out toward Stupidface. The smell of cooking pancakes filled the air. The leaf blower was baking the pancakes. 

 

"Those pancakes are super icky," Funtimes called, then giggled. "They go down like con-crete!" 

[Edgedancer he/him]

A pesky little insect was quite literally bugging Nighthound. Nothing threatening, just a rusting insect, between this and the noodle net it wasn´t clear to Nighthound whether this group was creative, desperate or just plain insane.

 

Catching the insect required a couple of attempts but he finally managed to squash the insect between his hands. The smell of pancake batter drew his attention to a mass flying at him. Nighthound jumped back. A bit of the batter caught his feet and suddenly hardened enough to send him sprawling to his back. Alright, that settles it, they are insane.  The… concrete batter wasn´t very thick but still gave enough resistance that he broke his foot, when he broke out of it. Painful and annoying but not of greater consequence.

 

He managed to roll away just in time to evade another load shot at him. Charging at a teleporter didn´t hold much chance of success, so Nighthound continue to roll, until he reached the edge of the roof. From there he swung himself downwards and right through a window.

 

In side he found himself in front of a bearded man in boxers and a pajama wearing woman, both openly armed. The woman pointed a shotgun at him. “Great, another one. Let’s find out if this one can die.” Annoyed Nighthound jumped forward and slapped both of them, using the contact to take control over them, although, he barely gave them any power. “Be happy. I can in fact use your help right now, which means I won´t just kill you for pointing a gun at me.” I wonder, where in this house I should wait for them.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Stupidface broke out of the concrete batter and leaped off the roof. Naturally. He had to be absurdly powerful. 

 

Laughing, Funtimes took Nathan's hand and teleported him to the sidewalk below, where she removed two ribbons from her sweater. She shook them out, transforming them into knives, and handed one to Nathan. 

 

Without question, he set to work on the net holding Lightwards to the ground. 

 

"Did you see where Stupidface went?" Funtimes asked. 

 

"That way." Nathan tilted his head in the direction he'd seen the new Epic go. If he wasn't mistaken, it was in the same vicinity as the couple from whom he and Funtimes had stolen the pillows. Bullets wouldn't stop him, or slow him down much, but it wasn't Stupidface he was worried about. An Epic who couldn't die could do some serious damage. He gave Lightwards a grin. "Shall we go after him?" 

Edited August 1, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

"Why not?" asked Lightwards irritably, shaking the dust off his coat as he rose to his feet. "I can't be alone in the desire to skin him alive and have him serving our tea by tomorrow."

 

He cast a glance towards Funtimes, and then nodded towards Donald and the Sadrys. "Any chance of equipping my Warriors? We are a team now, as it happens."

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Nathan didn't fancy the idea of watching anyone, Epic or not, be skinned alive. Still, bullets hadn't done much. Perhaps Lightwards' methods would provide a more permanent way of disabling him. Better a zombie slave than a feral Epic on the warpath. "Doctor? Got anything?" 

 

Funtimes stuck out her lower lip in thought; then she brightened. With a wave of her hand, a nearby garbage can and its contents became three flamethrowers, one leopard print, one pink, and one covered in green polka dots, which Nathan nudged toward the Sadrys and Donald with the toe of his shoe. The lid became a pot of steaming coffee and a travel mug. Funtimes poured the former into the latter, put the lid on, and handed it to Lightwards. "You looked sleepy," she said. "You shouldn't be sleepy." 

 

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, although he wasn't entirely sure he did. "Better to be hyper when there's a slontze like that around. Now, c'mon, let's go!" He took Funtimes' hand and motioned for Lightwards to take his free one. Holding hands with a necromancer, he thought wryly. Never thought to put that on my bucket list. 

Edited August 1, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

In between grimaces caused by the flamethrower colorations, Lightwards gestured for his Warriors to take them. Not what I imagined my conquest of Portland looking like, he thought grumpily. He waved for his vulture to approach him from the other side of the street, and turned around only to find Funtimes proffering him a travel mug full of coffee. "You looked sleepy. You shouldn't be sleepy."

 

"Yeah," the Traveler agreed. "Better to be hyper when there's a slontze like that around. Now, c'mon, let's go!" The other Epic held out his hand to take.

 

Calamity, do they actually think I'm going to drink that? Lightwards pondered, confused. He didn't have long to think about it. He turned to his Warriors of Light just long enough to give marching orders.

 

"Make sure Nighthound doesn't leave that house," he commanded, gesturing at the proper residence. Or what he hoped was the proper residence. "Surround it. Torch anything that tries to come out besides the three of us."

 

Wondering vaguely if a teleporter could disintegrate him without reassembling him at the destination, he hesitantly took the Traveler's hand.

Edited August 1, 2014 by Kobold King

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Given that his leaf blower had spewed concrete pancake batter instead of air, Nathan wasn't entirely sure the Warriors' flamethrowers would shoot flame. Still, there was no time to protest. They had to make it to the couples' house before all hell broke loose. 

 

Then again, how would he help them? Epics didn't help. Funtimes had, but she seemed to think the rational response to "I'll skin him alive" was to hand the speaker a mug of coffee. 

 

I'll figure that out later, he thought. Lightwards slipped his hand in his, and his first instinct was to pull away. He created zombies with those hands. You're not dead yet, he told himself. ​He's powerless. 

 

Funtimes held on to the coffee Lightwards had refused. When Nathan opened his eyes, they stood in a familiar living room. But the couple was nowhere to be seen. 

 

Actually, they were. It took Nathan a moment to recognize them through the grotesquely canine snouts and claws they now sported. Stupidface was not in sight, which meant he had to be hiding somewhere. Somewhere he could leap out and choke them from behind. 

 

"Ah, sparks," he muttered, stumbling back and away from the couple. "Is there anything this slontze can't do?" 

[Edgedancer he/him]

The loose marble trio appeared in the living room between Nighthound and his hounds, although, they seemed to only notice the hounds. Nighthound himself was hiding behind the coach, not the most elegant but effective.

 

Now was the best chance he would get to take out on of them. Which one to pick? Lightwards didn´t show any ability that could harm him. The teleportation was annoying but if that was everything the Epic could do he wasn´t much of a threat on his own. That leaved the material changing, which most likely belonged to the glitter. Granted, with both of them sticking together it was hard to tell completely but it was unlikely that she hadn´t shown any of her powers and even more unlikely that someone would drag a vanilla around.

 

Deciding on his target, Nighthound jumped out of his hiding place and, in one fast motion, picked up an ashtray from the table, threw it at the mug the woman was carrying. Immediately afterwards he moved in closer from behind, kicked away the smug boyfriend towards the hounds and put the girlfriend into a chokehold. Time to suffocate the first slontze.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Acts of violence happened quickly. That was the first thing Nathan had learned when Chicago became Newcago. It wasn't uncommon to be walking one moment and shoved against a wall the next. The window incident had been so quick, with so little warning, that Nathan hadn't felt the pain until he tried to sit up. When they happened, there was no time to think. The idea of preparation was laughable. There was time to react, time to see if the reaction worked, and—if it did—time to decide on the next move. 

 

Stupidface—he needs a new name, he's not stupid—leaped from behind the sofa. Nathan registered his grinning face, the anticipation before a kill and—

 

He was batted out of the way like a rag doll. 

 

The woman took hold of his arm just as his side began to ache. He couldn't fight back, he didn't know how to fight back, everything he had experienced in the last nine years had taught him to lie down and take it—

 

He kicked at the woman. HIs first kick did little—don't hurt her, she's not the enemy—but his second connected with her shin. She loosened her grip long enough for Nathan to twist free. 

 

Doctor Funtimes, meanwhile, had wound up on the wrong side of Stupidface's chokehold. Panic seized him, she couldn't heal, she was going to die and he'd be alone with—

 

With what he assumed was her last conscious breath, Funtimes giggled. Most of the coffee had been spilled, but there was still enough for her to toss it at her assailant's side. But when it flew through the air, Nathan knew it wasn't coffee. It was too clear, and he could smell the chemicals as the bearded man tried and failed to get ahold of his wrist. 

 

Acid. 

 

She had turned the coffee into acid.

 

Nathan laughed as the acid connected with Stupidface's side. He could hear the liquid burning through clothes, and hoped the pain distracted him long enough for her to escape. 

Edited August 2, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Edgedancer he/him]

A good chokehold wasn´t to be underestimated, if it was pulled of right, the only thing the victim could do was break his own arms by moving. Glitter here certainly didn´t know how to break free from one. That didn´t stop her unintelligent giggling as she started to go limp, though.

 

The smug one was wrestling with one of the hounds. He didn´t just teleport away, did he have to take everyone that he touched with him, if so-

Something burned itself into his side. With a roar he tossed the woman to the far end of the room and held his site and took a couple of deep breaths, while his side healed in what could only be described as a cloud of darkness. Did she throw some kind of acid at him?

 

He growled and turned towards the direction he threw her. Suffocation would be way to pleasant for that slontz.

[Kobold King he/him]

Within seconds, the nice little living room was the site of a fast-paced fight. Lightwards had never been good at keeping up with this sort of struggle, but he was able to get an impression of events as they happened.

 

The first thing that caught his attention were the hounds. He was shocked at the sight of them for a moment. They were humanoid, with faces distorted and canine. Claws instead of fingers. There was a faint smoky atmosphere in the room, coloring the air and apparently issuing from the creatures. Lightwards had never seen anything like them.

 

Wait. Of course, he thought, stunned. I know that stance. He'd raised a coyote once, and it had held itself in that same strange manner. A mixture between servitude to a master and a lingering predatory instinct. Nighthound created these, and he had to assume he had the similar--if not superior--grip on them as Lightwards had on his Warriors of Light.

 

Before he could fully process this information, the room was engulfed in chaos. Nighthound himself had Funtimes by the throat, who weakly giggled from her chokehold a mere yard away. One of the hounds was attacking Traveler, who felt the need to weakly kick at the creature as opposed to using his teleportation usefully.

 

Lightwards fumbled with his pistol as he heard Nighthound scream. The Doctor had flung the contents of that travel mug from earlier into his side, and it had eaten away into his ribs. Either Nighthound's weakness was coffee, or Doctor Funtimes had turned it into acid. Lightwards made a note in his mind never to drink anything while she was present.

 

Nighthound roared angrily, throwing Funtimes across the room. The feral Epic stood there in smoldering anger for a moment, taking deep and ragged breaths as a cloud of smoke obscured his wounds from view. He was facing Funtimes on the other side of the room, apparently too furious to recognize a much closer threat. Lightwards seized his chance.

 

Raising his pistol, Lightwards fired two shots into the back of Nighthound's head. In all likelihood they wouldn't kill him, but he was close enough for at least one confirmed shot. Ignoring the sound of bullets hitting a skull, he turned to the rest of the room and discharged the rest of his clip into the bearded hound.

 

Backing into a corner, Lightwards reloaded and wished to Calamity he'd been able to obtain a Utahraptor or two before coming into this fray.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Nathan's power was teleportation, and he couldn't teleport. 

 

Should've faked telepathy or something, he thought, waiting for the others to look away so he could grab Funtimes.

 

He didn't have to wait long. As the mist obscured Stupidface's blood and exposed ribs, Lightwards fired. The first two bullets hit Stupidface in the skull; the rest of them were for the bearded man. 

 

Nathan didn't wait to see whether the man-hound could heal or not. While Stupidface was distracted by his injuries and Lightwards by causing them, Nathan rolled across the floor and wrapped his hand around Funtimes' ankle. 

 

Thank goodness, she teleported. 

 

He had hoped she would take them far away—North Dakota, perhaps—but she was an Epic. Epics didn't run from fights, even fights they didn't start and had no intention of finishing. Instead, she landed across the room, safely out of Stupidface's reach. Nathan got to his feet quickly and pulled her close. 

 

​You slontze what did you do—no, no, you did the right thing, just pretend she's normal, she's not an Epic, just a girl who was nearly choked to death by one. He stroked her hair as she coughed into his shoulder. Soon, her coughs became a strangled sort of laugh. 

 

"You—cukoobrain." A few more breaths steadied her voice. "That dark stuff is pretty." 

 

Nathan knew where her thought led. Loathe as he was to finish it, he knew it was his responsibility. So he smiled deviously. "I think she'd like to see more of it. Wouldn't you, darling?" 

 

She grinned. 

[Edgedancer he/him]

Nighthound´s head was pushed forward, as two bullets passed through his skull. Soon afterwards a bit of his strength flowed back to him, one hound down. Apparently the bug tamer had his gun back, what a nuisance. The transformation woman still had a higher priority. He turned back to her, only to see disappear with the help of her boyfriend; the rusting duo was back together. They returned the last time, so chances are they won´t be gone for long this time either.

 

Soon enough he found them on the other side of the room. Insulting him and declaring that they wanted to see more of his “dark stuff.” Nighthound let out a hard barking laugh. “One of you is still coughing herself to death and the other can do barely more than run away yet you still have the galls to threaten me, that´s almost funny but mostly stupid.”

 

He sprinted towards the couple, given how spotty the ability of the man seemed to work, he might reach them. On the way he grabbed a table and tossed it at Lightwards, while willing the remaining hound to charge at him from the other side.

Edited August 2, 2014 by Edgedancer

[Kobold King he/him]

Sure enough, Nighthound was up on his feet again after a moment. The Epic paused to gloat for a moment, but darted across the room towards Funtimes and Traveler before Lightwards could fire off another shot.

 

Almost casually, Nighthound flipped a table towards Lightwards as he ran by. The professor stumbled back, before that mad voice in his head had an idea.

 

I have wanted to try this, he thought grimly and quickly. He dropped the pistol, holding out a hand to stop the table as it flew towards him. The second it's flat surface stung his out-stretched hand, he surged his miracle into the wood.

 

There was a crash as a fully grown oak tree burst into being. Little snapping sounds popped across the walls as nails as hinges went flying from the enormous tree now dominating the living room. The top of the tree burst through the ceiling, sending a tremendous amount of debris falling into the room. Roots dug into the floorboard, ripping through the cheaper materials but halting at the concrete foundation. As they did so, the tree wobbled and shook, ultimately collapsing into one of the walls. The massive oak tree fell completely, taking down a wall with a resounding smash.

 

The wall that Lightwards had propped himself against.

 

He was in a daze, surrounded by rubble, hurt by a piece of nail stabbing into his side. There was a ringing in his head, and he wondered vaguely whether he had a concussion. He gingerly sat up, trying to get his bearings straight.

 

Calamity.

 

The oak tree that table came from must have been huge. Restored to its living state, it had torn down an entire wall of the house, and was now laying on its side covering up a sizable part of the street. Lightwards recognized the arm of one of the hounds sticking out from under the thick trunk, squashed flat. Smiling slightly despite the pain, he pulled himself up and tried to see what was going on in the house through the still-falling debris.

 

----

 

I for one am passionately dedicated to destroying Oregon.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Many things could be said about Doctor Funtimes, but it could not be claimed that she did not have an excellent sense of timing. 

 

The moment it became clear the table would not remain one for long, Funtimes took them outside the house, landing as the tree crashed through a wall and into the street, dodging both the tree and Stupidface. She coughed again, then giggled. 

 

Nathan knew what that giggle meant. 

 

"Let's stay out here for a minute," he whispered into her ear. "He almost killed you." 

 

Funtimes said nothing, but the gleam in her eye said more than words could. 

 

"All right," he sighed, then forced a smile. "Let's take care of that—what'd you call him? Poo-poo head?" 

 

She shook her head. "He's a cuckoobrain. Fortuity was a poo-poo head." 

 

"Of course." How could he have gotten them mixed up? She took them inside once more. Oak leaves and branches lay scattered across the carpet. Cool air filled the living room, the smell of oak wood mingling with the smells of acid, gunpowder, and cracked plaster—and the fainter, yet still discernible, smell of blood. Both the man and the woman were dead. 

 

"I like the misty, misty misty misty," she sang, and waved a hand in Stupidface's direction. His shirt and jacket melted into liquid, and the strong, chemical smell of acid filled the room. 

[Edgedancer he/him]

Many things could be said about his opponents but not that they didn´t put up a fight. Throwing dead wood at the Epic that can use resurrection proofed itself to have been a very bad idea, “Oak tree inside the house”-bad to be precise. Lightwards made a gigantic tree appear inside the house, breaking the roof and killing the hound. Maybe, he wasn´t as harmless as Nighthound had assumed.

 

Smug and insane used the chance to teleport away. For now Nighthound concentrated on dodging the rubble falling from the damaged ceiling. He managed to do so successfully  jumping left and right, with each movement bringing him closer to the tree and-

 

His entire body was engulfed in acid, as his clothes dissolved. He covered down on all for and screamed from the tops of his lungs. What did this rusting town have against his clothes?  He glared over to the oak, on one side were the couple, who would most likely doge him, if he attacked, and on the other was a stunned Lightwards, who just moved a step up on the priority list. Nighthound leaped towards Lightwards, his entire body trailing pure darkness behind him.

 

The smell of blood and gunpowder mixed with the pain and adrenaline made his smile grow even wider than before, they were turning more and more from annoying to a fun exercise.

[Kobold King he/him]

Lightwards weakly watched as Nighthound leapt through the dimly lit night, hurtling straight towards him with darkness and acid pouring off his skin. Hurriedly he began stumbling backwards, but there was really nothing he could do. He closed his eyes--

 

He'd have suffered his third death if it weren't for Donald. The zombie solemnly raised a leopard-print flamethrower, targeting it towards the feral Epic as he flew through the air. He slowly squeezed the trigger as part of Lightwards' instructions, bathing Nighthound in... something that was spewing from the end of the weapon.

 

Lightwards didn't pay attention. He crawled underneath the branch of the fallen tree to work out a new plan.

[Edgedancer he/him]

They managed to find yet another way to mess with him. One of Lightwards´ servants stepped in front of him and held a flamethrower right into his face. Something red left the barrel and hit him in his face, a boxing glove, a rusting red boxing glove on a spring surrounded by confetti. Nighthound braced himself against the impact and grabbed the spring. He pulled on it, causing the zombie to stumble towards him. As soon as it was in reach he grabbed it´s head and rammed it into his knee, reducing the head to not much more than red goo.

 

He saw two more flamethrower zombies moving closer to him. Let´s get rid of them, Shall I? He ran at them. One pulled up his flamethrower and out of it came some kind of green slime, which turned the ground into a slippery hazard. Nighthound let himself fall down, causing him to slide over the ground and into the zombie. He kicked away it´s legs and crushed the descending’s victim´s neck. He jumped back to his feet and got hit by some kind of cream into the face, a cream that burned harder in his eyes than pepper spray would. One motion to swipe the cream away and a second one to rip into the cremling´s chest and crush his hearth was all it needed to deal with this last one. It felt good to rip away something while holding all of his power.

 

Searching for his next prey he turned around and found Lightwards hidden between the branches. He lurched towards him again. Hopefully he can revive himself, the more chances to kill him the better. While making his way towards Lightwards, he shot a sideward glance to his other opponents. Whatever they would come up with this time he didn´t want it to surprise him.

Edited August 2, 2014 by Edgedancer

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Nathan could have looked away from the carnage. He wanted to. But he didn't. Epics didn't avert their eyes from gruesome horror. They caused it, they reveled in it, and they awaited the day they could cause more. 

 

He was grateful to the Epics at the casino. Thanks to them, he knew how to avoid vomiting at the sight of a human head being smashed to goo. It was all in looking somewhere else—at a point just beyond the gore—a spot on the wall close enough to make it appear as though he was paying attention. 

 

To her credit, Funtimes did not giggle. She stiffened, her hands clenching into fists around handfuls of his suit jacket, then pulled back and stamped her foot. 

 

"Lightwards!" His name was the end of a shrill cry of rage. "Run that dummy dummerton over!" 

 

"With ​wha…." Nathan's question died on his lips as the branches near Lightwards drew together, solidifying into what could only be described as a powder pink urban assault vehicle, mounted with arms enough to make a tank driver nervous. Real gummy bears formed designs on the door and bumpers: cartoonish kittens, smiley faces, rainbows. 

 

"Shoot him!" she shrieked. "Shoot him with a teddy bear! Make him eat Pop-Tarts!" 

 

I hope that's irritating enough, Kobold. XD

Edited August 3, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

Lightwards quickly went from surprised, to bemused, to angry, to alarmed, to horrified, to startled, to sitting in an enormous pink combat vehicle.

 

Nighthound cut down each of his Warriors of Light, one by one with not the slightest trace of difficulty. Funtimes' inane weapons were nearly useless against him. Funtimes was a gibbering idiot who couldn't design proper weapons. Nighthound was a proper Epic. He was a fighter, a destroyer of weaklings.

 

The fighter, destroyer of weaklings, started running towards him. Lightwards was surrounded by branches that he'd hoped would hide him. He reached for his pistol, only to realize that he'd dropped it in the house he'd then destroyed. Time for another death, and there was nothing he could do about it. Helplessness, and with it death, loomed over him again.

 

Just as Nighthound drew near, he heard a high-pitched cry of fury coming from the general area of the house.

 

"Lightwards! Run that dummy dummerton over!" shouted Doctor Funtimes at the top of her lungs.

 

Idiot, Lightwards thought. What am I supposed to do, ride a tree over him...

 

The dead oak branches wrapped over him, cradling him in a massive, metamorphosing shape. Brown bark became pink-painted steel. Green leaves became multi-colored gummy bears. Enormous guns erupted out of nowhere, creating a loud whooshing sound as their creation pushed air out of the way.

 

Lightwards looked in a light-headed daze at the vehicle's controls. He wasn't sure how much of the light-headedness was shock, awe, or blood loss, but one thing was certain: he almost felt like kissing the imbecile right now.

 

Gleefully, he flipped a switch that seemed to be marked with various columns of steam. Another switch seemed to be labeled with a maple tree, so he flipped it as quickly as he could. With both hands, he pulled a large red lever that moved in all directions, targeting the massive guns and locking them onto Nighthound's stunned face.

 

This was very, very absurd. And very, very fun.

 

He pressed a big friendly-looking button at the top of the lever, spewing what he estimated as several hundred gallons of boiling maple syrup over Nighthound and the street below.

[Edgedancer he/him]

Assuming them to intervene was the right move. How they intervene on the other hand was rather unexpected. Nighthound saw something unique, an undead tree transforming into an assault vehicle that would embarrass even a children´s toy manufacturer. Given, what glitters former creations were like there was a fifty-fifty chance that that thing was actually harmless or extremely painful.

 

Nighthound was ready to jump away in either direction as soon as something was shot at him. His nose picked up what it was before his eyes did, Maple syrup. What was he a pancake?  He jumped to his left, boiling syrup splashing on his skin and enveloping a large part his right leg, by now he was in too much of a frenzy to care for the painful burns.

 

Continuing in the same direction he managed to position the house wall between himself and the vehicle. The syrup around his leg started to harden around his skin, blocking the movement of his knee. Prompting himself on the wall Nighthound worked at removing it from his skin, flinching every time the mass ripped off a bit of his skin.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Nathan had never thought of maple syrup as a weapon. Then again, he had never thought to heat it past boiling and pour gallons of it on an opponent. But it worked remarkably well, slowing the cuckoobrain's progress as he made his way toward the tank. Nathan searched desperately for something, anything to hold off the feral Epic's inevitable attack, but Lightwards' pistol was buried in the rubble, and Funtimes' "flamethrowers" had suffered a similar fate. 

 

While the feral Epic was distracted, Funtimes pressed her lips together—holding in a giggle, Nathan presumed—and waved a hand over what remained of the sofa and loveseat. Her other arm was wrapped around his waist. 

 

Cloth hardened into steel. Stuffing became polished leather. Bits of exposed springs uncoiled, wrapped themselves into circles, and drew rubber like magnets. Soon, her creation unveiled itself: A sleek white convertible with blue and green pastel seats, a pink ragtop, and headlights that looked remarkably like eyes. Long bits of black metal wire formed whiskers above a feline smile. Two sharply pointed ears jutted from the windshield. 

 

Doctor Funtimes giggled and looked into his eyes. "To the Catmobile." 

 

Just like that, they had protection from the cuckoobrain. A convertible might not be quite as safe as a tank, but it was far, far better than standing in the middle of a destroyed living room and waiting for a chance to duck his attacks. Nathan thought it safe to assume there were a few weapons hidden within the Catmobile, or at the very least, that she could create some. 

 

"To the Catmobile," he repeated. 

 

Once in the driver's seat, she giggled. Nathan was close to giddy himself. 

Edited August 3, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

Nighthound, disappointingly enough, was not instantly killed by the flow of burning syrup. The Epic managed to break away from the flow at a critical moment, only his leg touching the impossible stream. He bounded across the midnight street and hid himself behind a ruined wall.

 

So the hunter becomes the hunted, Lightwards chuckled to himself. I am the apex predator.

 

Not far from Nighthound's hiding place, Funtimes had transformed a pile of living room wreckage into a sleek white convertible with a feline motif. It was best to assume that despite its relatively innocent appearance, the convertible was probably even more heavily-armed than this candied monstrosity.

 

Lightwards familiarized himself with the vehicle's controls as wild, probably delirious thoughts flew through his head. How could she possibly create this? An engineer given years and millions of dollars might never figure out how to create the bizarre weapons and systems installed in this thing. Was Doctor Funtimes a hidden technological genius? But then, he didn't need any knowledge of surgery in order to raise the dead. He chalked it all up to Calamity's grace as he pushed yet another large red button.

 

One of the vehicle's countless cannons launched a small missile towards Nighthound's hiding place. The missile, as Lightwards had expected, was decorated with rainbow-colored stripes and released a trail of confetti as it zoomed into its target. It whooshed over Funtimes' convertible, dusting her windshield with confetti like the world's strangest snow.

 

Despite its party theme, the missile had a very real effect. The wall Nighthound cowered behind disintegrated in a bright explosion with a slightly pinkish tinge, scattering even more debris far and wide. Lightwards cheerfully launched several more party rockets in the general vicinity, trusting Funtimes to have the sense to get herself out of the way. The destruction of the house, started by his ill-advised table trick, was now fairly well complete. The house's fragments were flung in all directions, burning with unnaturally bright-colored flames as a cloud of dust and confetti settled over the street. Lightwards noticed with a cringe that several party rockets had missed their target completely, sailing over the ruined house and flying deeper into the city of Portland. He wondered idly what normal humans and rival Epics would think of the strange creations bombarding random houses.

 

Setting the truck into reverse, Lightwards moved himself to the other end of the street and searched for his allies and foe, assisting himself with the use of a few very garishly colored spotlights that the vehicle unashamedly sported.