What Happened in The Dalles

[Shattered]

 

"I'll kill you, scum!" Martin cried.

 

Eric dashed through Washington scrub and greenery, chasing after the Epic with Martin and five other people. He had no idea who this particular Epic was. He just knew that the man had sauntered into Goldendale earlier that day, looking like he owned the place. Soon after, Martin had discovered his wife, Emily, lying motionless in the street with bullet holes where her eyes should have been. Martin had snapped instantly, unslinging his shotgun and charging off to find her murderer. Eric and some other concerned friends had chased after him.

 

So here they were, sprinting blindly through the overgrowth, wildly pursuing the stranger after they caught his trail. It had led them into the local state park.

 

He can't be that dangerous for an Epic, can he? Evan thought to himself. I mean, he uses a gun. That means he's pretty weak, right?

 

He occasionally caught flashes of their quarry up ahead, maintaining his seemingly effortless lead. What was it about being granted magical powers from a giant red star that turned you into a long distance runner? Unless running was one of his powers.

 

Their shadowy target paused briefly.

 

Eric cursed as a loud crack resounded through the air and Jerold's head snapped backward, blood spraying over Eric, who had been running behind him. He almost stopped in the vain hope that he could save Jerold's life. He would have, if he didn't know for certain that Martin would get himself killed chasing after the Epic.

 

So he continued, almost tripping over Jerold's body as he continued his frantic pursuit of his friend, before that monster killed him. He jumped over bushes and ducked under branches, making sure to keep the threat in sight.

 

After an exhausting minute of full-speed pursuit, the trees broke into a clearing, revealing a structure in the middle of the clearing they had just entered. The local observatory. Eric didn't remember the last time that it had been used. The dome at the top was parted, leaving the telescope open and extended.

 

Momentarily distracted from looking up at the building, he turned his attention back to the ground and stumbled to a halt. The man they were chasing, the Epic, faced Martin. The gun he had used to kill Emily and Jerold was nowhere to be seen. He didn't seem to be concerned that Martin had trained his shotgun on him, and seemed ready to pull the trigger at any moment.

 

The Epic was relatively tall, with short black hair and extremely blue eyes. He seemed slightly overdressed for a chase, his jeans accompanied by a blazer.

 

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow you off the face of the sparking planet right now," Martin snarled.

 

The Epic's impassive expression broke into a smile, though he remained silent.

 

"You killed my wife, psycho!" Martin shoved his shotgun closer to the stranger, who mockingly put his hands up, a smile still stretched across his face. "Got anything to say for yourself?" Once again, the man said nothing. "Can't even come up with a reason to beg for your miserable life? Yeah, that's what I thought," Martin sneered, his face contorted by grief and anger.

 

"Is there a point to this interrogation?" The Epic suddenly asked, a slight British accent detectable in his voice. "Honestly, I would have thought that you would have 'blown me off the face of the sparking planet' by now."

 

"Don't think I won't."

 

"Oh, I have no doubt that you will try to kill me," the man said, still smiling, "but succeeding in that endeavour is going to prove a spot more difficult than you seem to think it will be. Do you know what Calamity gave to me?

 

"What?" Martin gritted his teeth, irritated. "The power to be sparking annoying?"

 

"Curiosity. And the strength and will to pursue it. Unlike you and your insignificant friends, I can do whatever it takes to find the truth." Somehow his smile grew even wider. "Wherever it may lie. It was for that reason that your wife-"

 

The Epic didn't get to finish his sentence. Screaming in rage, Martin pulled the trigger.

 

And blasted a hole in Anton's chest. His corpse slumped lifelessly to the ground.

 

Eric's breath caught in his throat. Martin's cry cut off into a strangled gasp. Everyone took a step back.

 

Except for the stranger, who stood exactly where Anton had been standing before he'd somehow been teleported directly into the line of fire. The man simply stood there, allowing everyone to look upon him in terror. Eric shifted his view, making eye contact with Martin. A silent agreement passed between them, and he waited as Martin managed to subtly communicate his desperate move to the others. The Epic either didn't notice or didn't care, simply standing silently, his eyes closed in exultation.

 

Then, as one, they charged. Martin, Eric, Jameson, Kimberly, and Old Rick, hoping against hope that this Epic's power couldn't protect him from a combined assault.

 

The man snapped back to attention, and before anyone could close the distance, in the blink of an eye he drew his gun from beneath his blazer and shot Martin, the round taking him in the shoulder and causing him to drop his shotgun. But soon everyone was too close for him to aim.

 

Jameson arrived first, swinging a right hook directly at the man's face. Then, seemingly in an instant, the Epic was replaced by Old Rick, who had been charging in behind him. Surprise registered on his face. Jameson's blow knocked him backward into their enemy, who mercilessly kicked him back into Jameson, knocking both men to the ground. The man pistol-whipped Martin, who had recovered swiftly and been waiting for an opening to fire, then immediately turned and shot Kimberly point-blank.

 

She collapsed soundlessly.

 

Eric stopped cold. He couldn't think of anything to do. He could only watch in horror as his friends were slaughtered. The Epic moved with brutal efficiency, finishing off Old Rick with a stomp, snapping his neck. Jameson received a bullet to the knee, dropping him, and another to the heart. Then the man quickly turned and delivered a devastating punch to Martin's face, who had been charging up behind him again. He dropped instantly.

 

The man paused, standing amid the bodies of Eric's friends. Then he looked directly at Eric himself. Frozen in terror, he watched the the nameless Epic's mouth curved into a smirk.

 

Then he turned and ran toward the observatory.

 

Cursing, wondering what in Calamity he thought he was going to accomplish, Eric charged after him.

 

***

The Epic dashed into the observation room, the door slamming behind him.

 

Eric stopped, gasping for air, and heard a loud clanging from behind. He turned back from the room to see Martin jogging toward him from the second floor staircase, shotgun in his hands and murder in his eyes. He gave Eric a passing glance and then looked past him into the room. He started forward.

 

"Wait!" Martin stopped. Eric took a breath. "Did you see what that thing did to everyone out there?"

 

"Yeah, I saw," Martin growled. "And I'm not going to let him get away with it."

 

"We're not going to get away. Not if we go in there!" Martin stood for a moment, then approached the room, shoving Eric out of the way.

 

"This has to be done." He yanked the door open and strode through.

 

"Oh, sparks, sparks, sparks," Eric, whispered. After a tense second, he ducked into the observatory room.

 

Martin stood at the entrance to the room, his shotgun trained on the Epic, who stood on the ledge of the open side of the room, the sky and surrounding forest visible. He had his pistol aimed directly at Martin. And he still had that insufferable smile on his face. That insufferable, confident, terrifying smile.

 

"This is it," Martin said, his voice low. "Nowhere to run." He shifted backward, regrouping with Eric. Bad idea, Martin, he thought. It allowed the Epic an easy route of attack on either of them, with his strange ability to swap places with people. What was Martin thinking? His move was going to get them-

 

He turned on Eric and pulled the trigger.

 

***

Martin looked away from Eric's corpse, chambering a new shell. He regretted having to shoot his best friend, but this man had killed his wife. He had to get vengeance, and having Eric with him would only have helped Emily's murderer. He sighted on that man again, his hands firm, his resolve unbreakable. The Epic's smile had grown wider. He was still aiming right at Martin, though.

 

"Nice move," he said appreciatively, gesturing toward Eric's body with the free hand. "I didn't think you had it in you."

 

"I've let you stall for too long. You're going to tell me why you killed my wife, and then I'm going to kill you."

 

"Isn't it obvious?" The Epic's lips curved upward slightly. Martin readied his gun. His finger tightened on the trigger.

 

"Tell me!" The man's smile grew wider. He lowered his gun, barrel pointing at the floor in one hand. His next word, though spoken softly, echoed in the small room.

 

"Curiosity."

 

Then he jumped off the ledge.

 

Martin stood in the room, stunned. Then suddenly he was tumbling downward, air racing past his face.

 

He screamed.

 

Darkness followed.

 

 

Blindside strolled through the room, ducking under the large telescope to reach the ledge formed by the hatch in the domed cap structure. He peered over the edge, and was able to spot the crumpled form of a man on the pavement below. Blindside drew his SIG P210-2 - his pride and joy - and shot the body a few times for good measure. With an amused shake of his head, he went back inside.

 

It had definitely been the right move to Swap that townsman directly into thin air. Blindside congratulated himself on his dramatic accomplishment as he entered the room and looked at the telescope. Well, at least this little trip wasn't a complete waste, he thought.

 

***

Strolling out of the park observatory building, Blindside noted the corpse on the pavement that he had shot from above.

 

Then he noticed the man standing above it.

 

He was a rather unkempt fellow, clad in ragged pedestrian clothes. His blond hair stuck up erratically in red-tinged spikes, and Blindside noted with dissatisfaction that the stranger was slightly taller than him. His eyes blazed with a manic intensity. And... are those bloodstains on his arms?

 

He had already noticed Blindside, his predatory grin directed right at him. Slightly unnerved, Blindside inched his hand toward his SIG, which was tucked inside his blazer. Swapping was not nearly as effective in one-on-one fights as it was against large groups, and he was certain that this stranger was an Epic.

 

A voice from the man halted his motion.

 

"Remember Frequency?" His voice put an end to the deafening silence. "He's got a job for you."

 

Blindside processed this new information. Frequency, eh? How long has it been since we went all bolshie?

 

Frequency's associate waited for an answer. The man had sent an Epic all the way to fetch him. It must be important. What job could Frequency need doing that would require Blindside's specific skill set?

 

"Interesting," He mused aloud. "Very interesting..."

Edited September 22, 2015 by Shattered Logic

[mail-mi]

 

Stormcage, Reader thought as he stepped into his church for the first time that day, is much too far from my church. Especially since he had to walk the whole way--Arsenal wouldn’t provide him any mode of transportation, of course, since that would be a “waste of valuable city resources.” Even though he could simply sparking make ten other cars appear out of thin air. 

 

He rolled his eyes as he stepped down his hallway. His guards were more lax in the church, seven of them having been stationed throughout it with only two tailing him. A 24 year old, Skyler was his name, ran up to him. His teeth showed braces as he spoke, braces he’d had for 8 years since Calamity claimed the earth. He’d never been able to get to a doctor to get them off. Even Reader--who had been subject to braces in his youth--felt a little pity for the man. 

 

“We’ve got a whole bunch of new Epics for you to Read,” Skyler said, “and--”

 

“--and I’m going to have to spend all day in my office Reading them, with a few good bottles of wine I hope,” Reader said pointedly. 

 

Before Skyler could say anything else, Reader heard a faint conversation coming from down the hall. “...although it didn’t seem like her intent was malicious.” 

 

Just the man I wanted to see. Reader shoved the little man out of the way and made his way towards Baxter’s voice. “Doctor Game!” he said when he saw the older man standing in Skylar’s doorway. “I presume you’re here to haf a look at this annoying little problem?” Reader pointed at his pulsing red nose. 

Edited October 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[FireSlayer]

 

Not malicious. Yeah sure. There wasn't really a way to tell, was there--oh wait, there was (supposedly), and why did the doctor need to check on him anyway.... Well, speak of the devil. Reader himself stood in the doorway, nose swollen and inflamed like Rudolph's. Rudolph the red-nosed Reader...blast, now Skylar had the song stuck in her head. No, girl, you're not writing a parody on the clock, save it for later if you must write it at all.

 

“Doctor Game!” the Epic said. “I presume you’re here to have a look at this annoying little problem?” His voice was a bit more grating than usual thanks to his injury. 

 

"Just a moment, please, Reader, I'm not done with our good doctor yet." She managed to keep her tone professional before turning back to Dr. Game with a smile. "Well, as long as you think she's contained for now, I'll trust your judgment. Just let us know when you dismiss her so we can take over from there, all right?"

[Edgedancer]

Baxter’s conversation with Skylar was briefly interrupted as Reader entered the room. His nose indeed didn’t look very healthy from what he could see. Not something that wouldn’t heal properly but he would have to set it straight again before it had a chance to heal into its currently crooked shape. Hopefully the bone wasn’t shattered.

 

Before taking a closer look at the nose Baxter finished his conversation with Skylar, returning her smile. “I’ll do so. She will still have to undergo security measures after all. My floor also ended up with a bullet hole in it. I would be grateful, if you could send someone on the matter.”

 

With that he turned to Reader, “Well then Reader, you're right your nose needs to be looked at. We should probably move to your office to get some privacy, while I examine your nose. You might also want to sit down.”

[Mckeedee123]

8 years ago, Washington County, Arkansas

 

Orange Crush smashed open the door of the cabin, allowing light to flood in and illuminate the vanillas hiding inside. He summoned a force field to block any bullets that might be fired at him and examined the room's occupants.

 

A man. A woman. Two kids. No quarry. Sparks. Did he get the location wrong again? That happened sometimes.

 

But no. The man holding that shotgun did bear a passing resemblance to Elizabeth. This was her family, which meant she was probably here. Crush dropped the field and lifted himself up onto the roof.

 

And then smashed through it, landing in the center of the room he'd just left. As the insulation fell around him, Crush summoned a ball of orange light and spun it around, breaking limbs and knocking the shotgun out of the man's hands. He deliberated for a moment, then shoved the ball forward into the woman's face, pasting her brains all over the wall. Screams. Bliss. He yanked the fallen shotgun towards him with a plane of orange light.

 

"Alright, folks. I'm pretty sure you know who I'm here for. You obviously can't kill me, so could one of you just be a peach and tell me where she is?" He chose the older boy, age eleven-ish, and began strangling him by lifting him up with a collar of light around his neck.

 

The nine-ish kid was screaming hysterically. Not helpful, kid. The guy, on the other hand, attempted to stand up and tackle him, something that was kind of difficult with a broken leg. He gave them a few more seconds to cooperate, though he didn't actually expect them to wise up. He sighed, then threw the older kid onto his father and began focusing, imagining a circular blade of light, sharper and sharper as he went into more detail. He pulled it into existence, then whirled it around, beheading the whole lot. The room became covered with streaks of blood.

 

Silence. There was nobody left to make any noise.

 

And then... a faint squeaking, like a sliding door being opened. Crush grinned, smashing through the far wall to reveal a kitchen, complete with family photos, portable gaming systems and refrigerator magnets from Crater of Diamonds State Park. The sliding door had been left open. Crush examined the pantry, not feeling any need to hurry. There was a certain game to killing, after all. He might as well let the object of his hunt get a head start. He took a swig of chili. He'd have to come back here after he killed Liz, maybe snatch a 3DS if it still had any power left. These people were kind of rich.

 

From the patio, he could just barely make out a little red hoodie running through the woods. That'd be her. Last person on his kill list. What would he do with his life once he was done with this whole business? Probably move back to Texas and take over a small town.

 

He lifted himself up and sped forward, accelerating rapidly. Within seconds, he had passed her. He dropped onto the ground and gave her a good look at him.

 

Liz was about his age, very pretty. Really pretty, actually. For a second he considered... but no, getting physically involved with people was dangerous for him. He made an orange collar around her neck instead and lifted her up into the air.

 

"Yeah, sorry it has to end this way, but I just couldn't letcha live. You know too much."

 

She made a confused gurgling noise, pretty much all she could manage as he choked her.

 

"Well, you don't know what you know, but you do know it, you know? No?" He smiled at his little joke. Homonyms were funny, right? Well, Lizzy didn't seem amused, anyway, but whatever. She was about to be dead, so it didn't matter. He started walking back to the ruined cabin, pulling her along in the air beside him.

 

He gave it a good twenty seconds or so. "You know? I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel kinda bad about this, though. I sorta wish that no one had to die, but the problem is... I'm a good person." She stopped struggling, running out of air. It looked like she was seconds from death.

 

"The greatest person, in fact. Greatest sparking person on earth. No one can ever seem empathize with my narcissism, though, so I guess you'll just have to trust me. It's for the greater good. Goodbye Elizabeth."

 

Crush snapped back awake. What'd just happened? He had... he'd fallen asleep! He fumbled for his face, checking for the orange-tinted lenses that protected him from ruin. Still there.

 

No nightmares tonight, thankfully, just... his rending. Or pseudo-rending, perhaps. His actual rending had left him feeling rather unfulfilled. There were still so many people who'd known about his weakness that he'd felt compelled to finish the job. Two months of tracking down and killing his family, and four more for his schoolmates. Witness Protection had tried hiding them about halfway through month two, so he'd had to torture the information out from that point on. The Capitulation Act had put an end to that whole mess, and the last few killings were actually pretty easy.

 

But sparks. Liz. He'd forgotten about what he'd said at the end of her... murder. Had he really said he was good? Ridiculous.

 

He was lucid again. That happened sometimes when he hadn't used his powers for a while. The narcissism wore off, and... well, it was a painful experience, to be confronted with who he really was.

 

He could brood in this state. He could think about his actions and determine which of them were wrong. He could make promises to himself that he knew he couldn't keep. Or... or he could just give up.

 

Slowly, he raised his hand and summoned a ball of orange light to illuminate the cell. Immediately, his heart stopped sinking. He smiled to mock the ruminations of his pathetic state earlier. Who was he kidding? It's not as if anyone was any better than him, morally.

 

So that's how they found him, that morning, when they came to take him to Reader's office. Grinning stupidly in the faint glow of one of his force fields and asking if they were offering a free continental breakfast.

Edited October 7, 2015 by Mckeedee123

[mail-mi]

 

Reader grumbled as Baxter stepped away, finished with the job. It felt like his nose was even more on fire than it had been before, but at least he could breathe through it now. Without a word, he waved his hand and dismissed the Doctor. He didn’t say thanks; not bringing up Game’s dream from last night was thanks enough. 

 

Skyler poked his head in the door. “Sir, one of the new Epics is here to see you,” he said. 

 

“Bring him in,” Reader said, then reached down and grabbed an unopened bottle of wine from the cooler below. “And bring me some more glasses.” 

 

Back to work as normal.

A cloud of mist made its way down the stairs following after the servant BusDriver had sent. 

 

Sparking girl, BusDriver thought. 

 

Mistwraith reformed as a person, holding a sword that was much too large for her. She didn’t say a word. 

 

BusDriver sighed. “Quicksilver wants to test out our powers,” he said. “I’m supposed to tell you that you better pass, or else...” He pulled his thumb across his throat and made a cutting noise with his mouth. “Got it?” 

[the winter system]

BusDriver looked annoyed. 

 

Very annoyed. 

 

Sparking BusDriver. 

 

“Quicksilver wants to test out our powers." BusDriver stated.

 

Mistwraith frowned- wasn't that what she had done last night? 

 

“I’m supposed to tell you that you better pass, or else... Got it?” 

 

He'd made a fake 'you die' motion over his neck. Mistwraith felt a smirk forming comfortably on her face- she was incorporeal. She was a High Epic. BusDriver was a minor wimp. 

 

Still, he looked kinda scared. 

 

"Fine. I suppose." Mistwraith twirled her finger in the air and mist puffed in an exaggeration of an eye roll. "Let's get going."
 

Edited October 21, 2015 by Winter Cloud

[Kobold King]

 

 

The Dalles moved quickly out the truck's window, like a gray pinwheel being spun around and around. For all the city's virtues it was hardly known for its distinctive landmarks--nor was Vondra known for slowing down to sight-see when Epics had stepped out of their place.

 

Rhonda watched the gray city whiz past, largely ignoring the anxious commander sitting in the front seat. Not that there was much to ignore--Vondra didn't pester the tired soldier doing the driving--but there were much more interesting things to look at than Vondra staring at the vehicle's dashboard as if it were deliberately trying to spite him by moving too slowly.

 

Instead, she opened her tablet and reviewed her reason for living.

 

At the very front of her files were a series of photos--photographs leftover from her studies in days gone by. Some were in black and white, others color. Some had come practically free, while others held a hefty price. What they held in common was a matter of content: each one showed a dark god in its natural habitat.

 

One showed a man with godlike physique floating above a tower of solid steel, cape flapping in a wind rushing from below him. Another showed a tall shirtless man sitting upright in a beach chair as if it were some kind of throne--he'd merely be a melodramatic sunbather were it not for the sword leaning against his side and the thick Bible in his lap. The pictures went on. A woman in the hide of a polar bear, sleet and hail pouring around her. A woman in a glistening dress of pure crystal, a disinterested yet somehow still snobby look on her face as she stepped atop a rising diamond spike. The newest photo in the collection, a blurry snapshot of an enormous winged panda soaring above The Dalles amidst a sky of dark clouds.

 

All were creatures that could singlehandedly reduce the city to rubble and scorched skeletons if they wanted to. Commander Vondra knew them as well as Rhonda did, but he refused to see what their existence meant. He continued to stubbornly cling to the idea that the City Guard alone could protect the town from the new rulers of the planet--sparks, the man had personally challenged one of them in the air with a helicopter that might as well be tinfoil against the greater Epics. The truth was right in front of him, but he refused to acknowledge it.

 

The world was filled with demons, and it was only the bound devils in his service that kept the city's walls standing against them. The day he forgot that would be the day the people of The Dalles saw their homes burn around them to the cackling of a force of nature gone mad.

 

Well, Rhonda didn't forget. When the final unstoppable demon came hurtling into town, there'd be at least one devil standing by to stop it in its tracks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The truck pulled into the central square of the city, and Vondra was the first to step out. A few guards immediately came to his side, but he was uninterested in their salutes, meeting their gazes with a glare like hard iron.

 

"Where are the victims?"

 

The victims were three in number, scattered across the plaza with teams of medics scurrying around them like termites. Vondra felt his blood pressure rise when he recognized them on sight--Anthony Decker, one of his personnel managers, Arnold Demingsworth, one of the last qualified schoolteachers in the city, and Jennifer Kennings, a soldier who'd been defending this city from the very beginning all those years ago.

 

A lieutenant with a bloodied lip and a fatigued expression arrived by his side, saluting before launching into a crisp explanation. "Three victims, each with varying degrees of dismemberment. They were all listed as MIA during yesterday's assault--we hadn't seen hide nor hair of them until they were dropped off here early this morning."

 

The lieutenant sighed before leading the commander to Decker's side. "No one saw who dropped them off, before you ask. All we have to go on is the symbol."

 

Vondra raised an eyebrow, but then he caught side of gleaming metal around the bloodied bandages on the sides of Decker's head. His ears were solid silver, emblazoned with the image of a long sword sticking partway out of its sheath.

 

"Quicksilver," he breathed, clenching his fists in anger. The Dalles' resident serpent had finally come out of its burrow.

 

Decker didn't hear his commander's voice, nor did his eyes seem to see him. He was trembling slightly, staring off at nothing in particular--according to a nearby medic, he was still in shock. Vondra made a note to call the man's family and moved to the next.

 

Demingsworth the teacher was in a similar state, though the man somehow managed to smile as his commander approached. Vondra matched the smile with one of his own, with a firm handshake and salute of respect passed between them. No words were spoken. According to the lieutenant in a hushed tone, Demingsworth would speak no words ever again.

 

Finally there was Sergeant Kennings, sitting with a red stained bandage wrapped around her eyes. Vondra gave a questioning glance at his lieutenant, who only nodded solemnly. If he were to peel back that bandage, the same travesty would meet his sight.

 

"Sir," Kennings acknowledged, apparently hearing his footsteps.

 

"Sergeant," Vondra responded, giving a nod that the blinded woman couldn't see.

 

"My family. Will they be looked after?" the woman asked abruptly, staring in the general direction of Vondra's voice.

 

The commander gave a tight smile--again, a gesture Kennings would never see. "Sergeant, you and your will be provided with all the honor due to a wounded soldier and her loved ones. Consider yourself honorably discharged--I'll file out the paperwork before noon."

 

Surprisingly, Kennings gave a crooked smile of her own. "Please, sir. You'll make the others jealous." Her face evened, and her tone became grim again. "This... this was a message, sir. A message from Quicksilver."

 

Vondra frowned. "I guessed as much. Epics can't just use words, though."

 

"There were words." Kennings swallowed hard, bowing her head low. "He quoted an old proverb. Something biblical I guess. 'Hear no evil. Speak no evil.' The slontze thinks he's some kind of prophet."

 

Anger flushed up from within him, and his fists clenched again. "If he wants a crusade, we'll give him one."

 

Kennings didn't respond for a moment, and the commander started to move on. Before he'd taken two steps away though, her voice spoke again. "Sir, please allow me to remain on duty. I don't care if it's pushing buttons or talking on a telephone. Just let me keep fighting." Her voice sank to a grumble, but Vondra made out the words "not broken."

 

Vondra looked at the woman in surprise, but found himself slowly nodding. "We'll find something. If that's what you wish."

 

The sergeant didn't speak again, and Vondra felt his legs carrying him away from the trio of mutilated citizens, and towards the stern-faced man lurking at the very edges of the plaza.

 

"Good morning, commander," said Arsenal stiffly.

 

Vondra raised an eyebrow at the old man, feeling another flush of rage. "Good? I take it you haven't read Quicksilver's message?"

 

Arsenal refused to meet the commander's gaze, staring out over the sunlit street. "I know who delivered it."

 

"Three of the people we swore to protect."

 

"No. The man who delivered them," Arsenal amended, turning back to the commander. "Look."

 

The old man took a crisp sheet of paper out of his uniform pocket, handing it to Vondra. Turning it over, it revealed a series of photos of a middle-aged Asian man in a black truck, showing his image in fine detail from a dozen angles as he dropped off the captives and tied them to lampposts.

 

The images really were in fine detail...

 

"Sparks, Daniel," Vondra muttered as he turned over the sheet. "How many cameras do you have in this square?"

 

"Not enough," the chaplain replied stiffly. "If I'd had cameras on every street, I could have traced the truck back to its origin. As it is, all we have is a face to track."

 

Vondra didn't respond to the criticism. He was too angry--furious at Quicksilver, furious at his own inabilities, and most of all, furious at Arsenal for being right.

 

Quicksilver needed to be fought, but there was no way of touching him. Unless...

 

"Sir," the gravelly voice continued, softer than usual. "We both know we can't let this stand. Let me go on the attack."

 

Vondra met Arsenal's eyes with a cautious expression. "What do you intend to do? Have a camera in every house and every room? Monitor every citizen in the city twenty four hours a day?"

 

"If necessary," Arsenal replied. "Until then, door-to-door searches would do wonders towards narrowing down his possible lairs."

 

The commander didn't respond.

 

"If Quicksilver were powerful enough to overwhelm us by brute force, he'd have done so already," Arsenal pressed on. There was a curious note to his voice--not his usual grumpiness, but something more akin to a passion. "All we need is his location, and we could have him dead with a single assault."

 

The pair of them were silent on the street for a minute, sirenless ambulances arriving to cart away the victims of Quicksilver's message.

 

"If I give you full power," Vondra said quietly, "This town becomes a totalitarian state. We'll have exchanged all of the Epic tyrants out there with one from within."

 

"Sir," Arsenal replied curtly. "You deny it, but The Dalles was a dictatorship from the day you declared martial law. Neither of us were elected. Before yesterday, we'd seen more opposition from our own chaotic citizens than we'd seen from Epics. The laws we upheld are dead. If you hold too tightly to them, you'll go the same way--and I promise you that Quicksilver or Lucentia or that storming panda will have far less respect for your laws than even I do."

 

Vondra met the Epic's eyes, cold fury meeting an old man's stiff determination. A long minute passed, before Vondra turned again to the ambulances now leaving the plaza.

 

A sword halfway drawn from its sheath. What would happen when the sword was drawn in earnest?

 

"Destroy that man, Daniel," Vondra whispered. "Him and every last servant in his employ. But if you ruffle the slightest hair of one of this town's innocents, then there won't be a bleeding star in the sky that can protect you from me."

 

Arsenal gave a cold, tight-lipped smile that managed to be less genuine than the blinded sergeant's had been. "Oh, I stopped thinking there's anything in the sky looking out for me a long time ago." He pulled a radio from his pocket, expression becoming grim once again.

 

"We're going to war now, commander. Let's make sure we use every last sword at our disposal."

 

 

 

 

Deathwish had been punched twice this morning, which made grand promises for the rest of the day.

 

He walked and occasionally floated alongside the strict Guardsmen flanking him on both sides, making his way steadily to the town's HQ. In between bouts of telling off-color jokes and asking about his guard's sisters, he rubbed his slightly aching jaw and scowled.

 

Who knew a bleeding blind chick could still throw a punch? I wasn't even gonna touch her long.

 

At least the lieutenant who got mad enough to punch him after the fact actually had the arm strength to break his lip. Edgar Hawk had been cursed as well as blessed--he could reflect all the bloody strikes and punches from heavy guys, but a hot chick would still leave a painful slap. One would almost think Calamity was a prude.

 

The guards brought the quietly contemplating Deathwish into HQ, depositing him in the hall outside Vondra's office and instructing him to stay put. Deathwish replied with a mock salute as the nutcrackers filed out, leaning against a wall and wishing he'd thought to keep a gentleman's magazine in his pocket. It would be just like Mayor Vondra to keep him waiting just to prove a point.

 

Then he saw someone else waiting outside the office, and realized waiting wouldn't be so bad.

 

She was a tall woman, with a head of red hair and nice skin she didn't seem scared to show. She wore tight jeans, a low cut blouse, and a pair of jewel-like sunglasses that made her eyes impossible to track. There could be no doubt that this wasn't a prudish vanilla like Autumn or a simpering half-Epic like Edgerunner. This was an angel.

 

An angel with a very nice bust.

 

Slicking his hair back with one hand, Deathwish sauntered to her side and caught her attention with a quick brush on the bum.

 

"Hello there, your majesty," he smirked with a wink. "You're Epic on at least three counts, but I bet the old man doesn't care about the best two."

 

In case that was too subtle, he let his eyes drop down to her cleavage for a noticeable second.

 

"What brings you outside an unappreciative old fart's door?"

[Edgedancer]

The guards Shiny Sparkle dragged along as her escorts were adorably shy about how she pressed their arms against her chest as they walked towards Vondra’s office. Teasing darlings like them is just a joy. If there wasn’t a stuck up dictator waiting for her, she’d like to take the time and properly snuggle up to one of them.

 

Sadly, the two took their exit rather speedily after they arrived before the door to Vondra’s office. Without that nice company she had to wait… and waiting she did. This wasn’t even a matter of prudishness; keeping a lady wait this long was simply bad manners. Now if she could have kept one of the guards as company this would have been much more pleasant wait.

 

Her thoughts were drawn away from possible courtship rituals involving nice muscled soldiers, by a clumsy touch to her rear, lacking all of the proper groping technique something this well-shaped deserves. Still, Shiny gave him the benefits of the doubt. It could have been one of her darling soldiers, working through his nervousness and daring a venture into for him unknown territory. She certainly wouldn’t mind showing him the shores, if that was the case.

 

However, with dreams like that reality turned out to be rather disappointing. The unskilled groper was the sleazy biker type; you’d take up for a quick ride and nothing more, and probably that Deathwish guy that was supposed to participate in the battle against those cult wimps yesterday.

 

She found his flirting after that mostly amusing. It reminded her of a school boy having discovered the wonders of sexuality but not yet worked through the hormones enough to tell that those cute females needed to be properly worshipped, which also marked him as the type whose ride ended especially short.

 

Putting on the same kind of smile one would use for a little puppy that just messed up but was still proudly wiggling its tail, Shiny Sparkle pinched his cheek. “I appreciate the regards given to my epic assets, trust me they deserve every good word said about them, but I’m sorry sweetie. It would be one thing if you were the virgin type but I only let the predator type take a turn if I think they are experienced enough to properly satisfy me,” she gave him a consolatory clap on the cheek. “Better luck next time.” 

Edited January 22, 2016 by Edgedancer

[Comatose]

 

Taylor stretched, manually relaxing all of her muscles, causing the tension brought about by her nightmares to vanish instantly.  After checking the newcomers housing for any sign of Brandon, Taylor had quickly decided to such accommodations were hardly adequate for a super star like herself.  Instead, she had wandered the streets until she found a nicer neighborhood, and the house in which she now resided.  The owner of the house, and the comfier than average bed Taylor was sleeping in, was lying dead in the bathtub in the master bathroom.  Hopefully today, Taylor would be able to find a proper way to dispose of her.  

 

Serves her right.  After a thorough search of the premises and a lengthy interrogation of her victim, Taylor had discovered that the woman did not own a single one of her albums.  What was the point of life if one could not listen to "All to Well" on a rainy afternoon or "Shake it Off" on a sunny day?  

 

"Open up!"  Taylor altered her cute ears, enhancing their ability to pick up sound.  The pounding on her front door, which was likely what had woken her up, continued, and a stern male voice repeated his request for her to open the door.  

 

Sighing, Taylor walked to the door, shifting her appearance to match that of the homeowner she had killed.  After a moment of thought, she added some dampness to her brown hair, and a towel to cover her skin.  

 

"Sorry for the wait, officer," hearing the woman's pitiful voice in her own throat reminded Taylor of all the senseless pleading the night before.  Thank goodness that was over with.  "I was in the shower, and didn't hear you at first.  Is there anything I can help you with?"  

 

A second officer stepped in to take charge.  "Please step outside ma'am.   We have orders to search the premises."

 

Taylor's eyes widened with shock, which she hoped would be appropriate under the circumstances.  She had been careful last night, closing all the windows, and gagging the woman until she promised not to scream.  Could The Dalles Guard be on to her all ready?  "Outside, but I'm not dressed..."  

 

The second officer, who was obviously in charge, scowled.  No doubt the pair had some sort of deadline to stick to.  Her eyes flicked back and forth between her male partner and Taylor's barely clothed body a few times before coming to a decision.  "Fine then, I'll come up to the bedroom with you, but you are not to leave my sight, understand?  Oliver here can search the main floor."  

 

Taylor nodded blankly, doing her best impression of shock while she planned her next move.  The male officer, Oliver, split off and began searching through the kitchen cupboards, while Taylor led the female officer upstairs to her new bedroom.  

 

"Now be quick about it," the officer said.  She was clearly annoyed, perhaps because she saw this search as pointless?  Yes, the boredom in her voice and the way she phrased her words seemed to indicate this was not her first search of the day.   Perhaps this was some other matter, completely unrelated to Taylor.  "Sweats and a t-shirt will do."  Taylor watched as the officer's eyes slid to the master bathroom.  "I'll check in there quick while you change, but I'll be leaving the door open, so don't leave the room or try to move anything.  The better you cooperate, the sooner this will all be over."  

 

Taylor nodded sullenly, turning to the dresser as the officer headed to the bathroom.  Her enhanced ears could hear the sound of the other officer still searching the main floor.  It sounded like he was in the living room now, which meant that Taylor didn't have much time.  

 

As the officer's hand turned the knob of the bathroom door, Taylor shifted, growing eyes in the back of her head, and two tentacles out of her back.  One tentacle snaked towards the bedroom door, closing it gently so as not to make the sound, while the other buried a barbed end in the female officer's throat.  

 

Taylor shifted her appearance again, mimicking the female officer exactly, uniform and all.  The officer's eyes widened as blood poured out of her, staining the formerly pristine carpet.  Her hand, already growing weak, reached for her gun, but Taylor moved faster.  She heard the satisfying snap of the officer's wrist as she brought her heel down hard.  

 

"None of that," she said, adopted the officer's own gruff no-nonsense tone.  "A shame we didn't get to know each other better."  A new barbed tentacle sprouted out of Taylor's chest, lashing out to stab the woman in the eye, putting her out of her misery.  Taylor set about frisking the body, ignoring the blood staining her fake clothing, which she could always shift to make clean again.  After appropriating the woman's identification, wallet, and weapons,  Taylor took a deep breath and headed down stairs.  Oliver met her at the bottom.  

 

"I finished the main floor," he said.  "No sign of anything.  You ready to scare another lonely widow?  Or is their more to do upstairs."  

 

Taylor shook her head.  "Nah, she's clean.  I left her to finish up in the bathroom. And listen, the next time the door is answered by a woman in a towel, try not to look so pervy.  The last thing we need is to have to wait for every woman on the block to pick out the perfect outfit."

 

 

[Mailliw73]

"You too, Ev?" Emma whispered. Her sister laughed at her tears and shook her head.

"Of course, Emma. You're too weak. What guy would like you?" Evelyn tossed her perfect hair over her shoulder as she walked off with Emma's boyfriend, or who she had thought was her boyfriend. Her sister had betrayed her. She had thought Evey was the perfect sister, but now she saw through the visage. Evelyn was just strong enough to get what she wanted. Emma went home, hiding her tears.

When her mom came up to get her for dinner, she saw the makeup stains on Emma's face and asked what happened. Emma told her how Evey had stole her boyfriend, tears running down her face all over again. She waited for her mother to sit down and console her, give her a hug and tell her it'd be okay. Her mom just stood there for a minute, then her face contorted into an ugly face of anger. "Emma, how could you? Your father and I gave you and Evelyn everything. Evey knows how to use what she's been given, but you, you just wallow in your own self-pity. How could you be so selfish and weak?" Emma sat in shock, tears frozen at the brim of her eyelids.

"You are ungrateful, selfish, and lazy! We should never have had another child after Evelyn. Our life would be so much simpler and happier without you, mooching our happiness and hard work for your own pleasure. The devil's own daughter, you are," Emma's mother continued her rant. "Get out of our house, now!" Emma stood up, slowly, still in shock. Her mother? Mommy? Evey and now Mom? How? She walked to the door, her tears edging to the border of her lashes. "And don't come back. You aren't a Runes anymore. Never again." Emma walked away from her house and as she sat in one of the Dalles' small alleys, her pent-up tears finally spilled over, the barrier of shock finally worn off. She wasn't wanted. Her mother hated her and Evelyn had betrayed her and she didn't deserve to live.

Emma climbed to the top of the apartment building she had been sitting next to. She broke through the locks on the roof door. She walked out on the roof, cold autumn wind biting through her sweatshirt and leggings. She walked over to the edge almost in a daze. Emma looked over the edge. Evey, I'm sorry. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, tipping off the edge of the building and hurtling to the ground below.

---

Emma woke with a start. Her heart was pounding and her pillow was damp. The nightmares never ended, not since that day. But worse than the fake feeling of betrayal from Evey in her dream was the deeper truth of her guilt of being the one who killed her. It wasn't Evey's fault, or her mother's, or anyone else's. It was Emma's. All Emma's. Her parents could never, would never, take her back after that, right? How could they? How could they look their daughter in the eye and see anything but a monster? The one daughter had taken the life of the other, Evey's blood still staining Emma's heart and she knew her parents would see that. Her mother especially, never failed to discern Emma's state of mind. Emma glanced out the window and saw the wreckage of the battle with the pandas the day before. She thought of the lives she might've saved by destroying the mutants. She thought of how she had talked Ethan out of his killing spree. Yes, she was a monster, but she could channel her anger and fear to be a monster, a weapon, directed by Vondra and by the Dalles' innate goodness.

She cleaned herself up, took a quick, but hot, shower, and dressed, quickly eating a bowl of cereal. She spent as little time in this small apartment as she could. Being here just reminded her of her real home. The one she couldn't go back to.

---

Arsenal was in HQ, giving orders through his radio, as always. "Sir, I'm here. Where do you want me?" Emma asked, devoid of sarcasm and mirth. She didn't feel like giving Arsey a hard time right now. She was having a hard enough time of it herself right now. Edited October 28, 2015 by Mailliw73

[mail-mi]

Mistwraith smirked. 

 

Calamity-cursed High Epics. BusDriver had perfected the art of grumbling mentally over his years of being “blessed” with these sparking bus powers. 

 

“Fine. I suppose.” Mistwraith used some of her floating mist to form the shape of rolling eyes. “Let’s get going.” 

 

BusDriver huffed. Finally. He turned to the servant girl that was still standing there humbly. “Go get Shatterblast, Platoon, and Fritz. Tell them Quicksilver wants me to take them somewhere.” She nodded quickly and ran back up the stairs. 

 

BusDriver waited impatiently for her to return. Mistwraith seemed to be having fun turning random parts of her body into mist and twirling it all around the room. He envied her, slightly. As much as he envied every High Epic, or, well, any Epic that actually had a useful power, not just sparking bu--

 

Someone knocked on the door. BusDriver froze, and Mistwraith seemed not to have noticed. 

 

“Open up,” a bored-sounding male voice outside the door said. “I’m here on official Dalles City business.” 

 

BusDriver scrambled for some way to deal with this. Any way. 

 

“Open up or I will be forced to break through this door!” 

 

Swallowing, BusDriver put one hand into his pocket, stepped up to the door, and opened it up with the other hand just a small crack. “Yes? What do you want? I’m busy here.” 

 

The man, Cayden by his badge, didn’t even bother to look him in the eye, instead staring down at the clipboard in his hands. “I just have to complete a quick search of the premises. Mayor’s orders.” He finally looked up. “If you’d just step aside and let me in, I’ll be able to have the search done in minutes.”

 

BusDriver didn't step aside. “What exactly are you searching for?”

 

The man breathed out just slightly. “That is classified information. Though I’m sure you’ve heard of the attacks on the town, and the victims left in places with various bits of their bodies replaced by metal. I can tell you it has something to do with that. Now, sir, please step aside so that I may search the building.” 

 

BusDriver couldn’t stop his eyes from widening slightly. They’re looking for Quicksliver. And if they were looking for Quicksilver...

 

They’re looking for me.

 

“Um, I don’t think...” BusDriver started, though he didn’t know what to finish with. He wasn’t very good at lying. 

 

The man narrowed his eyes. “Sir, please step aside.”

 

BusDriver didn’t move.

 

The guardsman stepped up and started to push against the door with his shoulder. “Sir--I--just--need--you...” he said between breaths, then looked over BusDriver’s shoulder. BusDriver stole a quick look back as well, and saw something that horrified him.

 

Mistwraith was still playing with her mist. 

 

The guardsman still seemed confused for a moment, then realization settled on his face. “Is she.... Sir, are you hiding an unregistered Epic? Sir, I--”

 

BusDriver clenched his eyes shut and cut him off. “You know, I really didn’t want to have to do this.” Opening his eyes, BusDriver swung the door open. The man stumbled in from the force he’d been pushing against the door, giving BusDriver his opening. 

 

He activated the pebble in his pocket and forced it into the man’s mouth. 

 

The man’s eyes widened in confusion and shock. BusDriver clamped his hand over the man’s mouth and grabbed the man’s neck with his other. He slowly forced the man out into the front yard, mentally counting down the time until the pebble would transform. 11, 10, 9,... The man struggled against his hands, but it was futile. BusDriver might have been old and grumpy, but he had grown up with a father that had taken him to work out for at least two hours every single day. Not for the last time, he silently simultaneously cursed and thanked his diseased father. 

 

...4, 3,...

 

BusDriver shoved the man to the ground and backed away towards the house.

 

....2, 1.

 

The man didn’t even have time to scream, nor did BusDriver have time to look away. He covered his eyes and grimaced, but it was too late. A yellow school bus, one that he kept with him for times he needed to drive out of town, grew out of the man’s head at incredibly quick speeds. 

 

BusDriver turned back to the inside of the house to see Mistwraith watching out the door with interest, and the servant finally returning with the three Epics. 

 

“Get in,” BusDriver grumbled. “We have to leave. Now.” 

Edited November 9, 2015 by mail-mi

[mail-mi]

 

They brought the Epic in before the wine glasses.

 

Typical.

 

“Skyler,” Reader said to the guard, “I wanted the wine glasses before the Epic. Now I’m just going to have to tell your daughter how much you hate her obsession with those decrepit Barbie dolls. They’re pretty creepy, am I right?” 

 

Skyler glared at him, but saluted all the same and stepped out to retrieve the wine glasses. Excellent. Reader turned to the new Epic. 

 

His name was Orange Crush, a forcefield Epic. Reader stared at him, drinking in all the information he could. He could feel Orange starting to get quite uncomfortable. 

 

Sure enough, Orange flashed a smile and introduced himself. “Hey there, bud. The name’s Crush, and I’m an open book. What exactly were you planning to ask me again?”

 

Reader stayed silent, and kept boring into Orange’s eyes--well, glasses, but the principle was the same. 

 

“S’cuse me?” Orange said. 

 

Reader sighed. “Shut your trap Orange or you’ll be meeting the wrong end of those guards’ shotguns.” 

 

Orange recoiled and pointedly closed his mouth. Just then, Skyler came back in with two wine glasses in his hand. He set them down on the desk and backed away from the interrogation. Smiling, Reader pulled a wine bottle out of the cooler beneath the desk, uncorked it, and poured himself a glass of blissful purple wine. He purposely did not fill the other glass. 

 

Reader leaned back and started sipping at his wine, staring thoughtfully at Orange yet again. He was enjoying feeling the awkwardness waft off of him in waves. 

 

Orange opened his mouth again. “Look. I know I’m pretty but--” 

 

Reader cut him off. Time to get this started. He had all the useful information he was going to get. 

 

“Orange? That’s what you choose?” Reader shook his head sadly, setting his wine goblet on the table. “You’re a joke, Josh. Did you seriously center your entire look around a color you don’t even like?”

Edited November 15, 2015 by mail-mi

[Mckeedee123]

"Where did you...?" Crush coughed awkwardly. "Well, you know. It's... it's not really a... well, it's just my thing, you know? Like, Paul McCartney has Hey Jude, and Mexican restaurants have creepy plates hanging on the walls. You don't see Goodyear hating on blimps, do you? Well, same thing with me. Eh, I don't mean to be pushy here, but can I ask where you're getting your info? It's... it's really in-depth, apparently, and..."

 

Interrogator-Guy smirked and tapped his forehead.

 

"What do you...? Aw, sparks. You're an Epic, aren't you?" Mind reader, probably. Try not to think about your weakness. Wouldn't want to have to kill this poor gentleman.

 

"So... Josh. What can you tell me about a person named 'Nerves'?"

 

"Uh... mental illusionist. I traveled north with him. To here. In Oregon."

 

"Have you been in contact with 'Nerves?' Do not lie to me." Interrogator-Guy pulled out a handgun and laid it out on the table, pointed at Crush, officially upping his threat-factor to 10. “People don’t end up happy when they lie to me--just ask Steven.”

 

"Uh... Nope. Pretty sure he joined a cult."

 

"Did your group include any others?"

 

"There were... two others, maybe?"

 

Interrogator-Guy narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.” He clicked the safety off of his gun. Threat level 11.

 

Orange Crush raised his arms in defense. "Woah, hey. Give a man a second to count. I thought 'shoot first' was a maxim for cops, not... whatever you are." He paused for a moment. "Okay, it was a while ago, but I remember their powersets, I think. Are you familiar with... Outlaw? Then there was... Slick and Pops. The first was some sort of faunamancer, then Slick could shoot oil out of his palms. And Pops... oh man.  You want him on your side. Trust me. He can make snacks appear out of thin air!. Travelling with him was awesome." Just thinking about it made him smile.

 

Interrogator-Guy nodded to a secretary, and the fellow jotted some notes onto a clipboard.

 

"Have you been in contact with any of these other Epics?"

 

Crush said nothing for a few moments, prompting Slontzey-Interrogator-Guy to cock his handgun.

 

"Uh... Slick's in the area. He's kind of been wandering around ever since Nerves went crazy. No meaningful exchange of information, though. I dunno where everyone else is." He shrugged.

 

"What cities have you been to since you separated from the group?"

 

"No cities. Just the wilderness. It's cool out there. You should go. Completely sparking nuts." Interrogator-Guy was starting to look angry again. Really? What did I do this time? Oh. "And Salem. Spent a few months there. It didn't really work out."

 

"I see... so-" Suddenly, Interrogator-Guy bolted upright and gave him a wicked grin. "Oh. Ha! Now I get it. The driving force of your life is inadequacy."

 

What? Where did that come from?

 

"I think you're right. I think that everything is your fault. I think that you could control yourself, if you really wanted to. But I don't think you will. You're too weak. Too weak to even bother to build up your willpower to the point where you could stop killing."

 

Uh... 

 

Great. He knows I'm at the end of my rope.

 

Say something. Don't just sit there gawking. There has to be a half-decent response to this.

 

But no, there isn't. Interrogator-Guy pulled this chain of thought straight out of my crazy, manic-depressive mind. Secretly, Crush was... sort of glad. At least someone knew that he was willing to acknowledge how awful he was.

 

Interrogator-Guy was also a jerk who didn't gave a spark about Crush and his self-worth issues, so perhaps it wasn't all that great after all.

 

Say something. This'll ruin your rep with these soldiers! Just try to play it cool, for Calamity's sake!

 

"I... look, I really don't know what you're talking about."

 

Interrogator-Guy snorted. "Don't lie to me. Oh, hey! I know why you wear those glasses."

 

Cold. Crush froze like an popsicle. Time itself froze. Bad. Oh, very, very bad. The interrogator knew his weakness.

 

The room had six soldiers. More would be outside. The interrogator had a gun, but by the stupid way he was smirking, Crush was pretty sure it would take him a few seconds to respond. He could do it. Probably. Summon a blade under the table and then behead everyone in a quick blur. Smash the roof and escape before anyone outside could do anything about it. Could he do it covertly? Kill the slontze who knew his weakness and then not leave? Probably not. This would be the end of his adventures in The Dalles. It would be back into the woods for him. No judgement, no fear, and no accountability. Just him. He took a moment to appreciate that, then slowly formed the blade under the table. Make it sharp. Find a single, fluid motion that will kill everyone in the room. There. He whipped it out halfway.

 

Sparks, man! What are you doing?

 

Sparks! He was killing again. Sparks! Why did this always happen? He dissipated the blade, but not before one of the soldiers shouted in alarm. Yep. I'm sparked now.

 

"Sorry. You touched a nerve." Calamity, guys. Please don't shoot. I just saved your lives. Well, in a manner of speaking.

 

"Apparently." The interrogator busted out laughing. He hadn't noticed a thing. Moron. Well, good. The soldiers were pointing weapons at him now, of course, but the tension was gone. He wouldn't die today. Probably.

 

The interrogator leaned over to the secretary. "He has this big, disfiguring birthmark right in his left eye. Been hiding it all his life. Can't blame him."

 

Wait a minute... "I don't actually think it's all that important," he ventured.

 

"Yeah, I'm sure you don't. Now, could someone pour me another glass of this stuff?"

 

He doesn't even know. And... Of course he doesn't! Only an obsessive paranoiac like me would jump to conclusions like that. Calm down, Crush buddy. You're good. Just don't startle those soldiers again.

 

"Now, what do you know about Salem's military? Tell me everything I don't already know..."

Edited November 21, 2015 by Mckeedee123

[Kobold King]

Something was wrong.

 

Colonel Carney leaned back in the patrol car, trying to put her finger on it. Obviously things were wrong in The Dalles as a whole. Just that morning her colleagues had shown up tortured and mutilated, and the day before an army of sparking panda bears had nearly overwhelmed the city by sheer force of numbers. Now they were on a city-wide manhunt for what amounted to the Epic mafia.

 

And yet, listening to the status updates rolling in from the few houses in front of her, Carney knew something was amiss.

 

Then she realized. It was her job to realize. A single failure to realize the obvious could spell the city its doom, which was a principle the Guard's command knew very well.

 

Of all the status updates rolling in and being logged on the record, one was missing.

 

Cayden.

 

 

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

 

 

"Cayden is unresponsive."

 

The words had struck Sergeant Moore like a whip, but no time had been wasted in his response. He and five other soldiers were in the truck in an instant, and now were pulling up beside a gray beaten-down building in a sparse district of the city.

 

The dumb slontze better actually be dead, causing this ruckus, Moore thought irritably. If we get another round of status update drills from the old man at HQ because of this, I'll--

 

His train of thought derailed as he swung out of the vehicle, spotting a bright yellow school bus parked outside the building in front of the doorway. Things met his eyes, and for a strange moment he found himself wondering why the bus seemed so polished and spotless when everything else in the city was rundown and decrepit.

 

Then his mouth fell dry as he spotted the body in urban camo lying stiffly with its head under the bus, in a pool of its own blood.

 

Immediately the squad raised machine guns in unison, barrels pointed at an old man rushing several other people into the bus parked over Cayden's corpse. The man seemed terrified at the sight of them.

 

"Man down!" Moore reported through his radio, grinding his teeth before raising his own gun with a finger inching the trigger.

 

"Freeze, or we will shoot!"

 

The shout hung in the air for just a second, before gunshots sounded from beside him and Moore lived his final moments.

 

 

  

 

The city was alive with activity.

 

Despite the stress and his advanced years, Arsenal couldn't help but find it invigorating. He stood in the command center among rushing aides and crackling radios, around urgent voices coordinating search teams and bright monitors visualizing all searched parts of the city.

 

The city was big. Small as far as cities went, even smaller since Calamity, but still big enough to make the Guard's task in sweeping it a long and arduous one. Arsenal would speed the process if he could, but he was content with how things ran now. He found that a part of him liked envisioning an increasingly panicked Quicksilver watching the inevitable come to him, wondering whether to make a mad dash for freedom or risk facing the strong arm Arsenal had been preparing for this very day...

 

His reverie and organizing was briefly interrupted by the sight of Edgerunner entering the room. His face creased into a frown like usual, but he found something different in the way she walked and carried herself. She was stiff yet slouched, and made her way straight to him as opposed to her usual meandering stroll.

 

"Sir, I'm here," the girl said, stopping short in front of her commander. "Where do you want me?"

 

Arsenal nodded approvingly at her; a rare gesture for him, but he wanted to encourage the girl's new found work ethic.

 

"We have begun sweeping the city for Quicksilver's faction," he began crisply. "You will accompany search teams in suspect areas, lending your support if needed in the event of--"

 

His radio crackled to life dramatically, the strained voice of one Colonel Carney coming through. "Carney to HQ. We have engaged renegade Epics. Renegades currently fleeing the area in a yellow school bus on Liberty Street."

 

Arsenal frowned. Epics already? Either the search parties had gotten lucky early on, or Quicksilver had more forces sprinkled through the city than he'd anticipated.

 

Either way...

 

"Change of plans, Ms. Runes. I believe you are needed on Liberty Street."

[the winter system]

Mistwraith distractedly was looking around when she heard the door open. She turned- well, she didn't exactly turn since she was mostly mist at the time - but she shifted her vision and saw a soldier guy. 

 

“Um, I don’t think...” BusDriver said. He looked really nervous. Like, Mistwraith wondered if she should be scared too. But the soldier looked official- probably someone from the city. Why was he so scared? 

 

The man grew suspicious.

 

“Sir, please step aside.”

 

BusDriver didn't move in response to his prompting. 

Mistwraith began to get a little nervous. Should she solidify? But she wasn't sure if she could. She tried to turn herself back solid. She panicked as she had trouble. She formed a bit of her body into flesh, but then puffed back into mist. She was too stressed. Wait. If she was mist, then she was incorpreal. If she was incorpreal, she was immortal. 

 

“Sir--I--just--need--you...” The man began. Then he saw Mistwraith and her difficulties to turn back into flesh. “Is she.... Sir, are you hiding an unregistered Epic? Sir, I--” 

 

BusDriver let the door open and then punched the soldier. Or wait, not punch. It looked like he'd shoved something... into the mouth of the soldier... 

 

BusDriver forced the man outside and then the man turned into a giant bus. It was gruesome and horrible. Mistwraith couldn't look away. Three other Epics came down. Or, well, Mistwraith assumed they were Epics by the way they weren't cowering in fear at her total and utter awesomeness. 

 

"Get in!" BusDriver sounded urgent and also very grumpy. "We have to leave. Now." 

 

Mistwraith didn't even bother turning back. She shot the mists straight through the bus and then accidentally outside of the window. Mistwraith embarrassed settled onto a seat after navigating her way back. 

Mistwraith considered apologizing.

 

She settled for trying to change back into human form. 

 

Easier said than done, given that her heart was pounding. It was so easy to command the mist. She didn't even want to turn back. But she knew she probably should. The bus sped up. 

 

There were some more soldiers and one shouted at them. 

 

"Man down!" That guy didn't actually seem to be shouting at them. "Freeze or we will shoot!"  

 

"I could..." She began before the guy got shot down. She looked around. She wasn't sure who had guns. Still, she was grateful. Even if they weren't dead because of her. Yet. 

 

Wait. Dead? She was grateful they were dead? She narrowed her eyes at herself. Sure. 

 

She let the feeling pass. No need getting worked up about it. "That works too. Where are we going?" She finally managed to turn herself solid. "I didn't mean to get you discovered, by the way." 

 

She looked off in the distance. The streets were going by quickly. Mistwraith was excited for a chance to finally prove herself. 

[Kobold King]

 

 

 

The shiny chick gave Deathwish a pat on the cheek, her smile a picture of amused disdain. “I appreciate the regards given to my epic assets, trust me they deserve every good word said about them, but I’m sorry sweetie. It would be one thing if you were the virgin type but I only let the predator type take a turn if I think they are experienced enough to properly satisfy me. Better luck next time."

 

Deathwish found himself smirking. So she was that type. An Epic broad who thought she was queen of the world. To be fair, most of them had the power to actually be queen of the world, or at least a good part of it.

 

Abruptly, Deathwish threw an arm around the woman's waist, pulling her close and putting his mouth next to her ear.

 

"If you're still alive," he breathed, "then you know we're not allowed to be satisfied in this city."

 

He let go of her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, but took her by the chin while she tried to realign herself. With a gentleness he generally didn't give the weaker sex, he tilted her head to face out a small window overlooking the street below.

 

"Outside The Dalles we get anything we want," he continued wistfully, gesturing vaguely towards the horizon. "Booze. Drugs. Any girl you like, or any guy if that's what you're into. Out there, we have the luxury of picking and choosing."

 

He met her eyes. She looked about to speak, so he tilted her chin to keep her pretty mouth shut. "Like I said. You're still alive, so that means you know all that. You're still here, which means you want something you can't just take. And you're obediently waiting in line to see the commander, which means you're patient enough to play their games until you're ready to seize it. What I don't think you understand is just how long you'll be waiting and just how quick you'll have to be to grab it before everything goes to hell."

 

She'd probably chop off his hand if he got any more grabby, and since he didn't want to dismember the pretty gal just yet Deathwish let go of her and flew breezily to the other end of the hall, where he sat upon a chair and folded his arms.

 

"Which is why," he concluded with a smirk, "you really should consider whoring yourself out to old veterans. The guys--or rather, guy who knows this place well enough to fetch you what you want before Arsenal goes crazy and nukes everything. But then, that's none of my business."

Edited November 22, 2015 by Kobold King

[Edgedancer]

Of course his type didn’t know how to take a no, Shiny Sparkle thought just as that smug smirk got on his face. Worse yet, he managed to pull her of her feet, so she stumbled towards his chest and mumbled some crem about satisfaction. When he finally let go of her waist, he instead put his dirty pawns on her chin, forcing her to watch out of the window.

 

Ignoring his little monologue further, Shiny Sparkle scanned the street. Sadly, she could find no cutey down there to make this mess more bearable. Instead she wanted to settle with telling him how little she cared for his rambling. The Slontze forcibly held her mouth shut. This was quickly going beyond annoying.

 

The crap he continued to spew probably said more about him than about Shiny. With Autumn off the table there wasn’t really a reason for Shiny to stay. It was simply that running of before things were properly dealt with and off the table would leave a bad taste in her mouth. And at the least there was still a chance of finding some lovebird worth her time in this nest. Otherwise she didn’t really have anything keeping her here. A life chained down to some old guy, without a sweetheart to keep her company, just wouldn’t be the life for a free spirit like her.

 

He finally took his hands of her and immediately flew off to the other end of the floor, barely getting away from the explosive slap she was about to give him. That and he still didn’t just shut up, “Which is why he you really should consider whoring yourself out,” something snapped in Shiny Sparkle at that point. Not knowing how to treat a lady was one thing but no dirty sleazebag gets away with calling her a whore.

 

A cold smile on her face, with the murder in her eyes hidden by her glasses, she slipped a small metal ball from her pouch into her hand and teleported right in front of the sleazy biker. She put her hand hiding the ball on his leg and leaned in on him. “So you think you can give me what I want?” Shiny poured, while moving her hand up his leg. “You know, if I don't have to deal with that prudish old man again, then some handiwork might actually be worth my time.” With that she moved her hand between his legs and let the sphere explode. Metal shrapnel was pushed downwards, ripping through clothes and his manhood-

 

A pain filled scream rang through the air, as Shiny Sparkle collapsed on the floor. Her entire abdomen felt as she just blew herself up, rendering her into a sobbing mess, slowly bobbing up and down.

Edited January 22, 2016 by Edgedancer

[Kobold King]

 

 

Deathwish was no stranger to the face a woman made when infuriated. A smile, directed at him... that was something he had a little less experience with. But somehow he doubted the stiff smile on the shiny Epic's face was a late attempt at seduction. Especially not when his keen eyes spotted a brief glint of metal in her palm as she made her way towards him.

 

“So you think you can give me what I want?” the woman crooned, leaning over him and putting a hand on his leg.

 

He was now 99% sure she was about to try to kill him, but he'd love to be wrong.

 

“You know, if I don't have to deal with that prudish old man again, then some handiwork might actually be worth my time.” With a slightly more genuine smile, the woman's hand made a swift movement...

 

...and a sharp crack like a gunshot rang out, Deathwish's precious parts shredded into gore in an instant. On reflex he shoved the now-screaming woman to the ground and flew to the ceiling, painlessly dripping blood onto Vondra's carpet.

 

The smug Epic was crying now, legs clenched together and her entire body heaving in agony. There didn't seem to be any of her own blood on her--she'd apparently had the precision to drive that metal shrapnel solely into parts that she didn't have. That precision had saved her a lot of blood, if not pain.

 

Bloody, explosive castration. I can add that to the list of things I've survived, he thought smugly, smirking down at the agonized wench. Good to know...

 

Without speaking--the chick probably couldn't hear him anyway over her spasm-inducing suffering--Deathwish took the heavy pistol off his belt and leveled it at her head. Her eyes were closed and she seemed lost in her private world of pain, making no move to destroy his gun or even move.

 

You're not an ally or a bedfellow. You might as well be a reminder to Vondra how useful I am...

 

His fingers closed on the trigger...

 

...and froze before he could fire.

 

"Hawk, stand down."

 

Frozen still in midair, Deathwish barely managed to make out Vondra and his chubby secretary standing in the doorway. They must have come in while he'd been soaking in the hottie's pain-sobs.

 

He felt Redlight's grip on him disappear, and he holstered his gun back while floating gently to the ground.

 

"Morning, commander. Just waiting for your assignment as I was ordered--"

 

"Shut it." Vondra was abrupt, the look on his face coldly furious--though not, strangely, at Deathwish himself. The commander gestured towards the crying woman. "What have you done to Ms. Sparkle?"

 

She actually called herself Sparkle? "I was just minding my own business," Deathwish replied with a smirk, "when she taught us both an informative lesson about what happens when you try to take the Hawk family jewels without jewels of your own. She's not strictly hurt, if that's what you're wondering, but she thinks she is."

 

Vondra's stare was flat and odious, and made Deathwish de-levitate a foot by sheer intensity. "Our forces are in pursuit of a member of Quicksilver's gang," he said icily, handing him a radio. "Keep in touch with central command and join the pursuit. Do what you have to do."

 

"Yes sir." Deathwish gave a sarcastic salute, then turned to open the window beside him.

 

"And Hawk?" He paused before the window, peering over his shoulder at the angry commander. "If you antagonize another newcomer, I'll tell them how to take your family jewels without them growing back."

 

Deathwish's teeth gritted, but he leapt out the window and soared into the city without a word in response.

 

 

 

 

 

Deathwish had really done a number on Shiny Sparkle--Vondra couldn't help but feel sympathy for her, for her anti-Hawk sentiments as well as for the pain she so obviously felt. He stood patiently against a wall for a minute as the woman's tears ran dry, and she managed to sit upright and take stock of the room once more. Rhonda stood at the ready, though it was unlikely she could do anything to stop the Epic in the worst case scenario.

 

"I see you took it upon yourself to solve our Deathwish problem," the commander said tiredly. "I give you fair points for trying, but if it was that easy someone would have done it by now."

 

He rubbed his temple with one hand. "He's someone you'll have to deal with if you work here, so I wouldn't blame you if you teleported to the other side of the States and never looked back."

[Edgedancer]

The pain Shiny Sparkle felt subsided slowly, much too slowly. What in the name of Calamity’s tantalizing red light district did that Slontze do to her? More importantly, how could she kill him without it happening?

 

Keeping the question in mind for later she carefully moved herself in a sitting position, she doubted that she would manage standing anytime soon. Looking around the room, as much as her tear stained glasses allowed her, she could tell that the chair was indeed ripped apart and the metal shrapnel imbedded into the floor. There was however no blood to be seen anywhere and the Slontz was nowhere to be seen. Sparks, where was the pain she was feeling even coming from? It was as if the area between her legs was on fire… almost as if she blew her own nonexistent genitals off.

 

Her attention was drawn to the Commander, who apparently entered the room, while she was sobbing on the floor. It actually sounded like he was trying to comfort her, even if he did so in an rather stiff manner, still a sweet gesture.

 

Shiny Sparkle pulled out a glasses wipe and for a moment just calmed herself down, as she cleaned her glasses. Once they were free of tear stains, she put them back on and looked at Vondra, “Well, I didn’t intend anyone to see me like that but thanks for the consolation,” she said with a small smile. “Is there any chance you would just let me drown him in the ocean or something like that?”

 

 

Baxter left Reader’s office once his work was done. He didn’t expect thanks from Reader but Reader also didn’t poke at whatever he saw in his mind, which may be the only good behavior one could hope for with him. Anyway, with his patient as well as the paperwork cared for he decided to return to his clinic.

 

On his way back, he realized just how empty the streets seemed. It could simply be because it was still rather early in the day but given all the chaos that sweep through the town yesterday it was clear that the people simply wanted to stay safely in their houses and that was if they even returned from whatever shelter they fled to. He could only hope that the city guard would deal with the situation before too much damage was caused.

 

Once he actually made his way back home and entered, he was greeted by his cat nestling against his legs. He petted her a bit, which she used to calculatedly lure him towards her food bowl. After feeding Neko, Baxter again cheeked after the patients still staying in his care.

Edited January 22, 2016 by Edgedancer

[Kobold King]

 

 

Shiny Sparkle slowly pulled herself together, taking off her glasses and wiping them down. Her eyes underneath were red around the rims from her tears, but the eyes themselves were... bright. Abnormally colorful. Inhuman. Vondra felt his jaw harden at the reminder of what the woman was, and watched as she put the glasses back on and chuckled nervously.

 

“Well, I didn’t intend anyone to see me like that but thanks for the consolation,” she said slowly. "Is there any chance you would just let me drown him in the ocean or something like that?”

 

Vondra shook his head. "If you stay here long enough to outlast his loyalty, I might just give you the chance. As it is, he's more satisfying as a tool for crushing our enemies than he dead."

 

He stared at the woman for a long, grim moment. He'd intended to have her sent to Reader first thing in the morning, but as she was, easily annoyed and pushed to violence, the last thing she needed was a meeting with the infuriating creature. Instead, he'd have to interrogate her the old fashioned way.

 

"I am going to ask you a series of questions. I expect truthful answers to them--there is a divining Epic in our employ who will double-check your answers at a more opportune point."

 

He took a deep breath, and then began. "Firstly: what is your real name?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not far from city command in the center of The Dalles was the hotel. To the people of The Dalles it had been "the" hotel for quite some time now; it was clean, it had multiple stories, and the word "hotel" remained above its front door even when the brand name had been stripped off years ago.

 

The clean spacious rooms had been requisitioned quite a while previously, and now were home to a number of high-ranking city officials with no property of their own. Armed forces officers, quartermasters, school teachers, and engineers who had wandered into the city were all treated with a room in payment for their services, and a friendly community had grown up between the inhabitants of neighboring rooms.

 

On the top floor was a room locked from the outside and meticulously avoided by the hotel's usually hospitable inhabitants. The room was nice and spacious, but from its disconnection from the hotel's community coupled with its window being its only entrance, one might surmise it was the dwelling place of an individual who was both highly valued by the city and distrusted by those unfortunate enough to live nearby to him. According to the plaque on the door, it was "Room 115"; according to the sparse neighbors, it was simply "the slontze's room."

 

Deathwish had been pressing for people to call it "The Hawk's Nest," but so far no one had taken him up on that proposal.

 

The flying Epic flew in through the open window and skidded to his feet in the spacious lodging, shucking out of his clothes immediately. He'd definitely need a new pair of pants if he didn't want his unmentionables hanging out during flight, and besides which he liked to make a good impression on the Epics he killed. He slipped into a pair of tight jeans, fixed his pistols to it, and stripped off his jacket as he flew into the attached bathroom.

 

It'd been a while since he'd used this trick, but it might come in handy. He worked quickly, whistling an old tune from the radio as he duct-taped a few razors from his expansive shaving kit to his chest. They were sharp, considerably sharper than the average razor, and he wrapped them tightly until he could feel the blade pressing into his chest through his thin white shirt. He put on his leather jacket over the duct-tape / razor armor, and as a last touch to his equipment, picked up one of the tough wooden swords he'd salvaged from the clean-up crews yesterday evening. The sword was light as plastic but sharp as steel--perfect for a flying Epic who had reason to believe he'd be going up against a magnetmancer, or whatever you called an Epic who controlled all things metal.

 

His equipment taken care of, Deathwish pulled out the radio and called HQ. "Deathwish to the old man," he transmitted lazily. "Reporting for duty."

 

There was a minute's pause before Arsenal's frustrated voice came over the line. "About time," he snapped. "We are pursuing a yellow school bus approaching the intersection between Freedom and Independence. Hostile Epics believed to be on board. Lethal force is authorized. Do you copy?"

 

"What I'm copying is that you guys took the patriotic street names way too far," Deathwish yawned, flying out the window and hovering above the city. His eyes scanned the neighborhoods below, watching the cars and trucks whoosh around like angry ants. "I think I know where to go. Anything else I should know?"

 

"Edgerunner has also been deployed. Do not--"

 

"--grope her until I'm finished killing the bad guys," Deathwish finished. "Don't worry about me, I'm a perfect saint when there's work to do."

 

Pinning his radio to his belt, Deathwish took off after the rushing trucks and helicopters, the glint of a yellow school bus slowly coming into view...

Edited November 23, 2015 by Kobold King

[mail-mi]

"Freeze, or we will shoot!"

 

BusDriver looked around the door at the gathered squad of City Guardsmen. Holy Calamity that was fast! He quickly ushered everyone into the car and--thankfully not shot yet--clambered into the driver's seat. 

 

"Shatterblast, you know what to do." BusDriver told him, but Shatterblast was already on it. He Shattered three windows and sent the pieces flying toward the gathered guardsmen, killing every one of them. BusDriver started up the bus and floored the accelerator, lurching the bus into motion. Buildings flew past the open windows of the bus as it sped up, BusDriver willing it to go faster and faster. 

 

Mistwraith came up from behind him. "Where are we going? I didn't mean to get you discovered, by the way." 

 

Like Calamity you didn't. "It doesn't matter where we're going if we aren't going to get out of this sparking city alive. Can you keep up with this bus in your mist form?"

 

BusDriver glanced behind him to see her look up in thought. Good enough. Pressing a button on the dashboard, BusDriver opened up the window/emergency exit on the roof of the bus. "Good. Now get out there and protect this bus." 

[Edgedancer]

Welcome to The Dalles, work for us like a dog until we are satisfied and then we’ll finally let you make the world a better place.

 

It was an absolutely terrible recruitment strategy but Calamity they had one tempting price. Kind of like the scams companies would pull in the old days, just with slavery and murder. True American values indeed.

 

Vondra feel into another one of his long and grim stares. It kind of made her wonder what was going on in his head this time, now that she could conclude that he wasn't mentally undressing her, but ultimately he began speaking before she could ask him, "I am going to ask you a series of questions. I expect truthful answers to them--there is a divining Epic in our employ who will double-check your answers at a more opportune point.”

 

So this was going to be some kind of job interview, huh? That would be at least more likely than him putting her into some kind of match making service. Shiny wondered if they do have some kind of local service for that, it could save her a lot of time. “Firstly: what is your real name?"

 

Somewhat confused at what sounded like a redundant question Shiny Sparkle tilted her head, “Well, if you’re talking about that Reader guy, I would prefer not having to talk with that Slontze again,“ Thinking about it, the town’s male population set a pretty bad record so far. “I’m alright with telling you what you want to know but didn’t I already tell you that my name is Shiny Sparkle?  I think it fits me rather well, actually.”

Edited January 22, 2016 by Edgedancer

[Kobold King]

 

 

Shiny Sparkle was beginning to go back to her barely cooperative self.

 

“Well, if you’re talking about that Reader guy, I would prefer not having to talk with that Slontze again,“ she began. Vondra couldn't fault her for that. Reader wasn't even allowed in the same room as Vondra, if only for security reasons.

 

“I’m alright with telling you what you want to know but didn’t I already tell you that my name is Shiny Sparkle?" the woman continued, her voice almost seeming confused. "I think it fits me rather well, actually.”

 

Vondra felt his anger ice within him, though he didn't let it show beyond narrowing his eyes. Of all Epic habits, it was the names that frustrated him the most.

 

"I'm not hiring 'Shiny Sparkle'," he said softly, yet still loudly enough for the woman to hear every word. "Epics give themselves new names to match their new selves. Steelheart. Snowfall. Night's Sorrow. They think they're something above a normal human being, and refuse to go by a normal human name."

 

He glanced out the window and hardened his tone. "To me, 'Deathwish' is just Edgar Hawk. A cheap biker who's gotten too big for his britches. Daniel Dewhickey started going by 'Arsenal' a few years back, but I call him by the same name he had before Calamity shone over his head. When I ask you for your name, miss, I'm not asking for the title you chose to call yourself by. I want to know what your mother named you when she held you in your arms. What name people called you before you were able to kill them without a second's thought. I want to know the name of the woman that 'Shiny Sparkle' left behind."

 

 

 

 

BusDriver looked angry even despite Mistwraith's apology. He must be under a lot of stress.

 

"It doesn't matter where we're going if we aren't going to get out of this sparking city alive," he snapped, concentrating on the road in front of him. "Can you keep up with this bus in your mist form?"

 

Can I? She'd never done it, but she hadn't had much of a chance to cut loose and see what she could do yet. She felt like she could. She felt a thrill at the thought as her hair was blown about the wind pouring in through the shattered window. What if she could be part of that wind...?

 

The bus driver seemed content with her lack of an answer, flipping a switch and making a gap slide open in the roof. "Good. Now get out there and protect this bus."

 

Protect it from what? They're not shooting at us.

 

Despite her confusion, the thundering air right above her head made her heart soar. She'd just now managed to get back to being a human, but who'd want her skinny little body when she could be a wind with claws?

 

Her smile and her face melted into pure mist as she rose up, bristling with sharp tendrils as she joined the crashing air as a cloud of murky gray over the speeding bus. She had no eyes but she saw everything around her, every passing building, every truck in pursuit, every helicopter...

 

She saw the shape of a man in a black leather jacket speeding towards the bus, a long lethal looking sword in his hand. He was going fast, faster than the bus; he was speeding alongside it, smirking at BusDriver through a front window before zooming ahead of it.

 

Protect this bus.

 

Mistwraith grew longer tendrils with clever loops at their ends, her misty body swirling like an angry storm cloud as she extended herself. A thrill shot through her like lightning, as she realized her chance to prove herself was finally upon her.

 

The loops shot outwards, and Mistwraith put mental words to her excitement.

 

I'm going to kill my second Epic.

 

 

 

 

Deathwish smirked at the bus's driver as he flew by, earning a scowl as the man went back to focusing on the road ahead of him.

 

Scowl all you want, you gray-haired old slontze. They'll be wiping you off that seat with a towel when I'm done with you.

 

He accelerated ahead of the vehicle, slowing down as set into motion the death of the driver and the end of the chase. He pointed the sharp wooden blade in his hand into his chest and positioned himself directly in front of the bus's grill. He slowed to a stop with a smile on his face--the bus would ram him with all the force it carried, propelling this sword straight through his chest and utterly annihilating his heart and lungs. Of course, it would be the scowling driver who paid the price for running over Edgar Hawk...

 

Suddenly, the cloud of smoke over the bus's roof flared to life. Deathwish felt cold, wet air wrap around his neck, and then--

 

Snap.

 

His neck dislocated as he was jerked bodily from in front of the bus, swung through the air like a rag doll and thrown in an arc into the side of a concrete building. His body struck the hard wall front-first, his bones breaking apart as he slid to the still street with a bloody trail above him.

 

Slightly dazed, he cricked his neck back into shape and peered down at his chest. The razors he'd taped on had just saved his life, and were now shoved most of the way into his lungs. He pulled them out as his body healed, regaining awareness of where he was.

 

That cloudy slontze could have killed me. If his power hadn't factored the snapping of his neck as part of the same attack as shoving the razors into his chest, the crem-wad would have succeeded.

 

Deathwish flew back into the air, flourishing his sword and straightening the razors back under his jacket. His eyes zeroed in on the bus, now way ahead of him, and the mist that was wildly thrashing and swirling over its roof.

 

It is on now, you storming smoke puff.

 

It seemed to straighten itself once more as Deathwish approached, and its tendrils shaped into lethal looking hammerheads as they shot through the air towards him.

 

...Alright, it will be on as soon as I get some backup.

[Comatose]

 

Taylor eyed her reflection in the side view mirror, unable to resist making minute changes to the female officer's rather drab appearance.  They were small changes, like adding a healthy shine to her practically tied back hair, and getting rid of a few blemishes and early wrinkles that surely wouldn't be missed by Officer Oliver.  It just wasn't fair that a woman of such superior looks should be continually forced to take on the appearance of more mundane women.  What was the point of having a famous face and the body of a super model if  no one was able to appreciate it.

 

Oliver swore to himself as he took a corner a little to sharply.  A little while ago, they had gotten a call to chase down some rogue epics in a school bus.  Taylor had done her best to pretend she cared when the call first came in, but resumed her natural state of boredom as soon as Oliver's eyes became focused on the road.  No one had complimented her in hours; how did regular people live like this?  

 

"Sorry about that, I guess I'm just a little nervous.  Do you think Quicksilver will show up?"  From what she had gathered, Quicksilver was the leader of a gang of some sort, and the reason for the morning's searches.  

 

"Relax, we just have to do our part.  The epics will do the heavy lifting."  Taylor tried her best to adopt to slightly patronizing tone she had heard the more experienced female officer use back at the house.  Something caught her eye in the mirror as she added a subtle touch of colour to her lips and cheeks and added volume to her eyelashes.  Frowning, Taylor enhanced her vision to get a better look, only to find several subtle acne scars marring her forehead.  Disgusted, Taylor shifted again, leaving her forehead clear and unblemished.  She hated acne.  

 

Taylor's ministrations were interrupted when Oliver slammed on the breaks.  The car had barely stopped when a yellow school bus blew through the intersection at a frightful speed, with what looked like a flying man in hot pursuit.  Cursing again, Oliver stepped on the gas, swerving around the corner just in time to join a convey of military vehicles tailing the fleeing bus.  

 

"We have instructions to shoot to kill if we can get a clear shot.  Just be careful not to hit Deathwish."  It took Taylor a moment to realize that Oliver was reminding her of her job during the chase.  Apparently there was a reason the woman she replaced chose to ride 'shot gun'.  Suppressing a sigh, Taylor rolled down her window, took out the dead woman's gun, and then began searching for an opening.  

 

Well, this should be interesting