What Happened in The Dalles

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

Keep Reader in line. 

 

There was more to Autumn's job description, but that was what it boiled down to. Be the good cop to his bad. The yin to his very smug yang. The sweet honey to his salty, rancid peanut butter. She was there to be his opposite, calm and controlled where he was passionate and obstinate; ruled by logic when his emotions took the reins. Her task in this situation, as in all others like it, was to use her knowledge to work out a solution that did not involve a double execution. But at that moment, defusing the situation was the last thing she wanted. 

 

What she wanted was to sit down, raise her clipboard, and beat herself into unconsciousness. 

 

Hydron. He had to do it. Had to waltz in and steal her thunder, bluster and attempt to frighten two potentially dangerous Epics. Had to ignore everything said in what had been, to that point, a perfect interrogation. Had to give the more emotional twin an excuse to snap. Had to act like a storming Epic. 

 

Autumn shot him a glare. When I'm through here, the glare said, Vondra is going to hear about this.

 

She wanted to scream. She wanted to stomp her feet and throw her clipboard. She wanted to grab each twin by the collar and explain, in great detail, exactly how executions were conducted for Epics who couldn't be shot, ending with an introduction to the three who would carry out their sentence. She wanted to see them pale and agree to her terms. Instead, Autumn drew a long, composing breath and spoke, softly and evenly. 

 

"I wasn't trying to threaten you. And those soldiers weren't trying to kidnap you; they were just following our laws. One of those laws says that any Epics found within city limits or the surrounding farms—yes, even those that aren't occupied—are to be brought to Reader and I so we can determine exactly how much of a threat they pose to citizens here. In a perfect world, we would simply trust you to do the right thing, but this world isn't perfect. We don't know you're not a threat. We can't know. So we do these interrogations with you, just like with any other Epic we find, to determine whether or not you're likely to go off on a killing spree. I'm willing to believe you aren't, but you have to prove it. If you can prove you're not a threat to the people of The Dalles, we'll give you a choice: Stay and work for the City Guard, or leave.  If you leave, we'll have a few soldiers escort you out, and then you're free to go on your way. No tricks. No threats. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I have to follow our laws, and if you want me to trust you, you have to show me you're trustworthy. All right?" 

 

She looked at each girl in turn, praying silently. Please, God, help them not to be idiots. 

Edited October 22, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Mailliw73 he/him]

"Heya Edgey. Don't know if you got the memo yet--Command Post Tango's been hit. We've gotta check it out." Edgerunner heard Wilbert's, or Glamour, as he preferred, voice say to her. She would prefer that too, if her name was Wilbert Abners. He annoyed the sparks out of her. With those headphones on all the time, always insulting everyone. Ugh. He was just plain rude.

"Heya Wilby," she responded, mimicking Glamour's tone. She made sure to use his real name as often as possible, just to annoy him back. "Let's go then." Glamour just yawned and followed behind her as he always did. Hopefully this was one of those times where he kept his mouth shut for the most part. Did she hear faint tango music coming from him? How typical. They go to Post Tango, and Glamour begins playing tango music. How cheesy. Why had Vondra assigned him to accompany her? She could take care of herself and the soldiers all hated him anyway. Even someone like Deathwish they held in higher regard. Glamour was obnoxious and unhelpful. There was no point at all for him to be around. He didn't even have very useful powers. Edgerunner would leave him in the dust right now if she knew she wouldn't be severely punished for it.

The whole way to the command post, Edgerunner alternated from trying to block Glamour out of her mind and thinking about his annoying habits. He tended to throw little shimmers on things or rainbows and lights. He occasionally made a small rock invisible and Edgerunner kicked it, hurting her toe. He looked away when she turned to fix him with a glare, but she scowled and ignored it. That was the best way to deal with Glamour. Ignore him and he would get bored. Usually.

Post Tango wasn't too far so they arrived fairly quickly. The building was silent and still. There was no sign of movement. That was usually a bad sign. Edgerunner and Glamour went into the building, ready to fight. Edgerunner kept one of her knives in her hand. She was poised and ready for a surprise attack. No one was on the main floor. That usually meant there were no survivors. Vondra would want them to check the entire building though. Edgerunner went over to the door that opened to the stairwell as a man stumbled out that door. She instantly crouched, ready to lunge and flip her gravity. He was a regular. She could tell. They all had a lack of pride in their eyes.

"Who are you?" Edgerunner asked. Glamour cleared his throat obnoxiously and gestured towards the man's hands. Edgerunner looked and widened her eyes in surprise. The man had no hands. His arms ended in stumps at the wrist and were capped in metal. A raised mark of a slightly-unsheathed sword confirmed it for her. "Quicksilver," Edgerunner muttered with disgust. Sparks, that man was evil. He killed and robbed at his pleasure.

The man nodded and began to mutter, face pale, ready to faint, "Qui-Quick. Quicksilver has a message. Assassinations displease him. V-Vondra has let his empire go to his head. Vondra is n-not the only one with power. He can keep his kingdom, but no fighting Quicksilver. Or t-there will be s-s-suffering." The man swayed and slid down the wall. Edgerunner crouched to help him. The man had one more message. "This was a lesson. Quicksilver's response won't change. Learn from your mistakes." The man's eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed completely. He was still alive, still breathing, he just passed out.

Vondra was going to be furious, Edgerunner thought. "Come on. Let's go check upstairs," she told Glamour. He seemed to be a bit in shock from seeing a man mutilated like that.

"Another bites the dust. Another bites, another bites, another bites the dust." Wilbert's music played. Edgerunner rolled her eyes. Glamour's sense of theme was impeccable. Even when seeing a man almost die, he still planned his music around it. Edgerunner went up the stairs, leaving the unconscious man for when she left.

She opened the door on the next floor and retched. Even she wasn't used to sights like this. Mutilated, bloody bodies covered the floor. A sea of red filled the hallways and each room. Bodies had been hacked, sliced, and cut every possible way. Quicksilver was a menace. He was undeniably powerful as well. Thirty-three good people were cut down in the hallway alone, according to Edgerunner's count. No survivors, save the metal-handed messenger. Even Glamour was silent, though his music still played.

Edgerunner radioed the nearest guard to come and pick up the messenger man. He was too heavy for her or Glamour to lift. They would report to Vondra. He was not going to like this at all.

[Kobold King he/him]

  

 

 

Reader was immensely unsympathetic.

 

As Backtrack glared, Reader gave an undeniably insincere expression of pity, speaking in an exaggeratedly coddling manner. "Oh, you're having a bad day?" he crooned sarcastically. "That's too bad. Unfortunately for you Steven, you came to the Dalles, and the Dalles is my territory. Everything you know belongs to me."

 

Backtrack opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the broad smile spreading across Reader's face.

 

 "And everything I own belongs to Koschei the Deathless." 

 

Somewhere deep inside of him, Backtrack felt his righteous indignation die in a flash. And it didn't die quietly--it died with a echoing internal scream that seemed to escape from his lips in a high-pitched whine.

 

All this thoughts and worries about The Dalles suddenly became real. Before they were shadowy and nebulous. Now it was all solid. Now he was completely, 100% justified in wanting to run out of town screaming.

 

Koschei the Deathless was in fact undefeated, and more to the point, he ruled this city. Frantically Backtrack wondered what would happen next. Would he be sent to meet Koschei? Was that why Reader was so cavalier about shooting prisoners--he knew his boss would just kill and heal 'em anyway? What would he do if Koschei decided Backtrack was useful enough to keep in the city? What would happen if Lightwards came to The Dalles to retrieve him? Calamity, who would kill him less painfully--Lightwards or Koschei?

 

The series of suddenly solidified doubts and concerns clouded his mind. He simply sat and stared at Reader, his mouth dry.

 

"Look at me," he managed to say hoarsely, giving Reader a pleading look. "I'm useless. I'm completely sparking useless. I'm the most sparking useless Epic in the Fractured States. Koschei doesn't need me. You don't want to be the one to send him someone useless, right? Just point me and the girls at the town line and we'll run away and never come back. Please. I... I can't handle getting shot or threatened or mutilated any more today. Just let us go."

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[mail-mi he/him]

 

Steven is the best. 

 

His indignantly angry face instantly fell the moment he said "Koschei the Deathless." He moved his mouth, seemingly looking for words, but only a whimper came out instead. He smacked his lips together, then licked them. Sweat beaded on his brow. His hands were shaking. 

 

Reader soaked it all in. 

 

And smiled.

 

"Look at me," Steven finally said. "I'm useless. I'm completely sparking useless. I'm the most sparking useless Epic in the Fractured States. Koschei doesn't need me. You don't want to be the one to send him someone useless, right? Just point me and the girls at the town line and we'll run away and never come back. Please. I... I can't handle getting shot or threatened or mutilated any more today. Just let us go."

 

Why would I just let you go? Reader thought as he looked into Steven's eyes that were welling with tears. I'm having too much fun with you. 

 

"Don't kid yourself, Steven," he said gently, reaching across his desk and gingerly stopping his shaking hand. Steven looked terrified that he was touching him. "You could be of great use to us here in the Dalles. Why, you can get into other people's heads merely moments after they've passed through a place. You and I could be a great team,"--Reader knew that would horrify Steven to no end--"me knowing the victim's secrets and you knowing their thoughts." 

 

Reader nodded, pausing for a moment, letting Steven take it all in. "No, Steven, you're not useless.

 

"You're just as useful as I am." 

BusDriver had finally found something that might be worse than buses: sparking mist.

 

Tendrils of mist from the unknown source raced for him. They grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him up off the ground, much to his surprise "What in Calamit--" More tendrils came, but instead of grabbing him, they dived at the ground, then ripped out sections of the asphalt.

 

That flew straight for BusDriver. 

 

He was defenseless. If he made the asphalt into buses, they would just push him back even harder than the small pieces of road. And besides, the Calamity-cursed tendrils of mist wrapped around his sparking arms prevented him from moving at all anyway. 

 

He heard a voice. Suddenly, the asphalt stopped, just inches away from his head. "Uh," the voice said. "I just came to my powers." He looked around for the source, but couldn't see anything. "I didn't mean to, uh, attack you." The mist slowly let him and the asphalt back to the ground. From somewhere up above, a woman appeared, then dropped to the ground, landing on her feet. "I'm Mistwraith. Who are you?" 

 

BusDriver took a small step back, still wary of this Mistwraith. "I'm..." Should I lie? he thought, then decided against it. It's not like it'll make a difference if she wants to kill me if my name is BusDriver or sparking JeepWrangler. "...BusDriver." The mist seemed to be fading. "Some sparking greeting," he said grumpily. 

 

Suddenly, he realized he had no sparking idea what to say to her. "So..." he started. "...seems like you're new around here. What brings you to the Dalles, land of insane Epics and sparking buses?" 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[Seonid he/him]

 

Gravel crunched as Ranger crossed the now-deserted parking lot. The vanillas had fled as Torch came down out of heaven for a second time, blazing like a meteor. Not all of them had made it.

Sparking useless vanillas, he thought. Why can't they learn to get out of the way? A family of three stood up from where they had taken shelter behind an old electrical box. He sneered at them contemptuously, opening his mouth to make a biting comment.

He checked himself. No, this isn't right, he thought. It's happening again. No! Vanillas are people, too. They matter. He repeated it like a mantra. Vanillas still matter. Vanillas still matter. He was afraid that, deep down, he didn't actually believe it, but by Calamity, he'd fake it until he made it. He wanted to care. He wanted to believe that they mattered just as much as he did. And that would have to be enough for now. He forced himself to smile. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

The mother just backed away with a look of fear on her face. "Don't come any closer. We don't want any trouble." With a sigh, Ranger turned away and continued on. Towards the center of what had been the crowd. Ground zero for Torch's impact.

The ruins of the platform lay in a wide hole left by Torch's incineration. Ash swirled in the wind. The smoldering pile of rubble still radiated heat as he approached. He thought he had seen the tell-tale flash as Guardian and Paladin teleported out just before impact, but he had to make certain. And check that all of their targets were dead, too. Torch and Ringmaster lay tumbled together at the bottom in a macabre embrace. The flamboyant hypnotist's garish suit was charred beyond recognition, but the top hat was unmistakeable. Torch himself had no burns, but his neck twisted at an angle no human was ever meant to twist at. Not to mention a double dose of a deadly neurotoxin in his veins, which had apparently caused him to lost control of his fire as he died.

A little more searching through the ash found Bubble's corpse, blown clear of the platform. But, of course, he'd known that she was dead. People didn't live after he'd shot them. Not normally, at least.

He tapped his mobile. "Ranger here. All targets accounted for." His earbud crackled in response. "Roger that, Ranger. Let's get you out of there."

As he looked up from the ash-strewn parking lot, his eyes caught sight of something shining for a brief moment in a stand of small pines, about a quarter-mile off. It looked like a modern, gravitonic car. That was definitely out of place.

"Belay that, Guardian," he said. "I've got something I need to check out.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

 

The inside of the jail was dank. It smelled like it hadn't been cleaned out in months. Which, reflected Weeks, it probably hasn't. He kept a firm grip on the pistol in its holster as he crept towards the stairway to the lower level. Down to the cells, he thought. That's the most secure place in this town. His nightly stakeouts and reconnaissance had revealed that an Epic named Stonekey guarded the cells. No one in the town had seen him since the battle with Ironmonger, 18 months ago, and their memories of his powers were limited. With his access to the intelligence files of The Dalles, however, Arvin had been able to find much more information. Unfortunately, his weakness was not in the archives. Stonekey had fled The Dalles after Koschei's rise to power, because he was unwilling to join the putative god. He was a rather weak Epic, able to control stone as if it were water, but only in small quantities. Arvin hoped to get the drop on him, hamering him with .45 cal explosive rounds until he dropped, unable to use his powers to defend himself.

The shattered window behind him let in a cool evening breeze as he crept down the stairs. There was a body at the bottom of the stairs, against one of the walls. With a silent prayer of thanks, Arvin crept forward. Sure enough, it was Stonekey, lying in the doorway of the break room as if he'd fallen asleep at his guard post. Or maybe drunk. A bottle of wine lay next to him, leaking onto the floor.

Something felt wrong. He pulled out his flashlight, red-filtered to avoid ruining his night vision. The shape wasn't moving at all, not even the slow rise and fall of a drunk's breathing. The flashlight played across the Epic's head. That was it. The back of his skull was caved in, as if from a single heavy blow. Arvin heard the clink of chains behind him, from the hallway leading into the cell block. He threw himself to the side just in time as a massive spiked chain slammed into the ground where he had been. His flashlight spun out of his hand, rollin across the floor to end up against the wall, pointed squarely at the doorway to the cell block.

There, blocking the view behind him, was a monster of a man. 7 feet tall, and nearly 400 pounds, the Epic Hammer was an awesome sight. His right arm ended just below the elbow, capped with a metal brace from which protuded a heavy warhammer. His other hand grasped a the chain, pulling it back, laughing maniacally. His laugh filled the room like his bulk filled the doorway. His old training coming back to him like a second nature, Arvin pulled out his gun and fired 6 rounds in a quick spread, centered on the chest. This would be his best chance, maybe his only chance. Hammer shrugged off the bullet fire, stepping into the light. Body armor covered him from head to foot, almost certainly impervious to Arvin's small arms fire. Arvin groaned softly. He was dead this time, and he knew it. The giant Epic laughed again as he walked forward, raising the hammer.

At that moment, the ground shook violently. A bright flash of light, red-tinged like a fire, flooded through the window above, then vanished. Hammer dropped to the ground, twitching. Warily, Arvin sprinted past him. He didn't know why the Epic had become incapacitated, and he didn't know how long it would last. He had to work quickly. Last cell on the right. The heavy electronic door was locked with a simple padlock - most of the high-tech gadgetry no longer worked. Pulling a set of bolt cutters out of his backpack, he snipped the lock. The door swung slowly open.

This was it. The reason he'd come to this Calamity-forsaken town in the backwoods of Nowhere. He stepped into the cell.

He didn't know what to expect. He'd prepared for a briefcase marked 'Classified,' or maybe a sample of some exotic material. Even a specialized weapon that could be used to drive Ironmonger away, a substitute for the weakness. What he did not expect was a girl of about 9 or 10, chained to the wall. The manacles clung together, and several of the links of the chain were stuck to them as well. Magnetic? But why?

The girl's eyes went wide as she saw him. "Who are you?" Her voice was a soft whisper, barely audible even in the still air of the cell.

"I'm here to rescue you. Don't be afraid." Arvin set to work with his bolt cutters on the chains and manacles. Slontzes! What the sparks are they thinking, keeping a little girl chained up like this. I don't care how much of a tactical advantage she might have been... He kept ranting, punctuating each, more violent mental condemnation with a snip of the bolt-cutters. The circumstance was eerily similar to...he couldn't think it. I will not be a coward again. Even now, two years later, he still suffered from the guilt of that monstrous day. He doubted it would ever leave him. But I can vow never to be party to that again. By my life and by whatever sanctity my tarnished honor has left. I will not. That was a dangerous line of thinking. Too long, and those explosive bullets in his clip would look far too attractive as a way of making amends. Things were too delicate for that now. He had a duty, and he would do it.

To her credit, the girl didn't seem afraid. "Good for you. You're being a brave little girl." He hoped that it would sound soothing. "Of course I am," she shot back. "I'm ten. And that means I'm a big girl now." She said it matter-of-factly. "Big girls are always brave." The links were cut. She was free. He had to get them both out now. There would be time later to figure out who she was and why she was in there. In a fraction of a second, his priorities had shifted dramatically. That had always happened when children were involved, except for...his mind shied away from the dreadful memory. He would do penance his whole life and never erase it, but at least he could feel as if he were working towards it.

He grabbed her hand and began to hurry back down the long hallway of the cell block, throwing open the door. He didn't know how much time they had, but...

The Epic climbing to his feet told him that that time had just run out. He pushed the girl behind him as he drew his gun again. 7 shots left in the clip. Another clip on his belt, but there wouldn't be any time to reload. The Epic's booming voice filled the room and the narrow hallway behind. "Trying to sneak past me? There's no way out of this place from in there!" Arvin fired again, emptying the rest of his clip into the faceplate of the body armor. The armored vision-glass spiderwebbed with cracks, but did not break open. Hopelessly, he snatched the spare clip from his belt, frantically trying to reload before the Epic recovered.

The broken glass bought him some time while Hammer removed the helmet. Apparently he couldn't see anymore. That was a stroke of luck, or providence. He finished reloading just as the Epic picked up the chain again. As he raised the gun to fire at the now exposed head, the chain snaked out, catching him in the left arm and slamming him against the wall of the hallway. The gun went off, the recoil sending it spinning away from his suddenly loosened grip. He blinked, trying to clear away the black spots from his vision. Had he killed the Epic? No, the footsteps were moving closer. It had been a long shot anyways.

Groaning, Arvin began to feel towards his gun again. The chain slammed down again, inches from his questing fingers. The girl behind him cried out in fear. "Not so fast, vanilla. You don't get a second chance down here." Hammer's booming voice echoed in the small cell. Hammer stepped forward again, now just feet away, raising his right arm with its attached weapon. A loud whinny, as clear as silver, sounded from the doorway. Hammer flinched, spinning around to face a new threat.

There, silhouetted against the light from the open doorway, was a brilliant white horse. It almost seemed to glow with an inner light. With shock, Arvin noticed the single horn sprouting from the forehead, rising in a pearly spiral to a silvery tip. Is that...a unicorn? The majestic beast slowly stepped forward, growing brighter with each step. Hammer looked amused. "This?! An overgrown horse with an absurd hood ornament? This is no rescue!" His booming laughter filled the room as he flicked his chain towards the beast, wicked spikes glinting in the rays of sunlight.

And then the horn was there, somehow interposed. With a brilliant burst of light, the chain burst asunder, flying links disintegrating. Hammer backed away, angling towards the door to the back room. The unicorn charged. Hammer broke and ran towards the doorway.

Covering Ari's eyes, Arvin bolted towards the stairs, heading for his car, for daylight. His life had just gotten more dangerous. Hopefully, it had just become that much more meaningful, too.
 

Edited October 25, 2014 by Seonid

[Kobold King he/him]

  

 

 

Reader was a rotten, despicable person who'd made remarkable contributions to the lousiness of Backtrack's day.

 

Backtrack assumed that after shooting him in the arm and smugly informing him that an unstoppable dictator ruled the city, Reader would find it difficult to find fresh and exciting avenues of slontziness.

 

That assumption, as it turned out, was very wrong.

 

Backtrack felt himself flinching as Reader gingerly touched his hand, steadying the bad case of the shakes he was having. The gesture was not at all comforting.

 

"Don't kid yourself, Steven," Reader said softly. "You could be of great use to us here in the Dalles. Why, you can get into other people's heads merely moments after they've passed through a place. You and I could be a great team; me knowing the victim's secrets and you knowing their thoughts." 

 

Backtrack simply stared at him, eyes wide with horror. So he would be made to stay here. Stuck in The Dalles, working for Koschei the Deathless and partnered with the slontziest Epic he'd met in years.

 

Was slontziest a word? He couldn't quite bring himself to care at the moment, because storming Koschei the Deathless was drafting him. He shook more terribly than before, but managed to yank his hand away from Reader's.

 

Reader continued, nodding thoughtfully. "No, Steven, you're not useless. You're just as useful as I am."

 

Somehow that comment just made it all worse. Some little part of him cracked at that comment, bringing another total body cringe. Backtrack did the only thing he could do--he glared at Reader.

 

Externally. Inside, he was feeling like a piece of slag. Was this what all minor Epics were like--so smug in their mediocre talents, completely apathetic to those in their mercy?

 

Sparks. Was that what he himself was like? Surely not. He hadn't approached anything near Reader's level of slontziness.

 

Well, he had treated the twins kind of creepily. Like, "smiling widely and touching them at every opportunity" kind of creepy. But surely that wasn't Reader-level slontziness.

 

Of course... there was that set of directions he wrote for Lightwards. What would Lightwards do once he reached the Trattner bakery, he wondered? Surely he wasn't planning on killing anyone there...? He hadn't put much thought into it at the time, but he found himself suddenly hoping the self-proclaimed Emperor hadn't left the bakery with any new zombies.

 

And that's when it hit him. Staring into Reader's quietly gleeful expression, he came to a realization.

 

Steven Lawrence was a slontze. Yes, he was very definitely a slontze on Reader's level. And they were going to make a wonderful team.

 

He felt his eyes start to burn again, so he took off the sunglasses and held them in his lap, quietly brooding. Reader's smug expression was beginning to annoy him, so he decided he didn't have to look at it. Instead, he flipped through history.

 

Trying not to think of his latest realization, he instead flipped through this location's history. Reader and his office disappeared, obscured by the shadows of the past. Nothing from Koschei's era of history, of course. In fact, Backtrack determinedly peered far enough backwards to the time when Koschei's ancestors were just squirrelly little mammals, hiding in the trees out of sheer terror of the dinosaurs below.

 

He sat in his chair for a few minutes more, examining the primordial forest. The Cretaceous had always looked like such a serene place to him. He'd looked at it before--there were few eras of Earth's history he hadn't taken a look at.

 

Seventy million years before Reader was born, there was a very nice forest here. A river flowed nearby, out of sight but pouring its soft gurgling voice into the forest's silence. Birds--or things very like birds--chirped from the tops of trees, and every so often a squirrelly little Reader-ancestor would crawl up a tree to its nest in the higher branches.

 

It was immensely relaxing to ignore the current situation like this, so much so that Backtrack wondered why he hadn't already tried to soothe his day with it so far. It wouldn't help in the long term, but it helped him put his thoughts in order. And more importantly, it boosted his self-confidence.

 

The forest and all its tranquility was only one benefit of his power. The other benefit was the way that power changed him. He always felt renewed and invigorated after using it; his self-confidence soared with every peak into the past. Best of all, his worries and self-doubts evaporated off of him, leaving him with a clear conscience and an un-troubled mind. After all, he hadn't really done any harm. He wasn't a slontze. That goth girl didn't really need the rest of her family anyway, right? And MV still sort of liked him, so he hadn't totally wrecked his chances of winning her over. He wasn't a slontze.

 

He wasn't a slontze. With that thought and the friendly little voice that spoke in his head sometimes, Backtrack dispelled his vision of the Cretaceous forest and fixed Reader with a much more steady glower.

 

Sort of steady. He was still shaking, and his power did nothing to soothe the mortal terror he was still feeling. His heart was still pounding rapidly as well, which Reader was no doubt aware of.

 

"Listen," he said shakily, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Whatever you think I can do for you, you're wrong. I'm no use to you. I can tell you quite earnestly that I've never been useful to anyone in my entire life. You know that isn't a lie."

 

He swallowed heavily. "I'm just here to find out if Remington Springfield still has family in this town, and then I'm heading back to Portland. Trying to keep me here is just a waste of time for the both of us."

 

With that, he managed to put his sunglasses back on and stare intently at the other Epic. He was beginning to doubt there was anything he could say to sway this man--more and more, it seemed he wouldn't be leaving The Dalles without a meeting with its master.

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[Voidus]

Impact watched Autumn Glass take a deep steadying breath at MVs latest tirade and found herself sympathising more with her than she did with her sister.

Honestly, sometimes it's like she wants to be shot, or turned into a pile of ashes or whatever horrible death that Slontze at the museum could come up with.

Taking a deep breath of her own to keep herself from smashing her sister through a nearby wall Impact watched the dynamic between Autumn and this newest arrival, an Epic evidently, although obviously he couldn't be any more powerful than that Slontze with the wine had been if he was working for vanillas. She graced him with a condescending sneer before addressing Autumn again, at least she had some measure of courage, standing up to Epics for a career when she had no powers of her own.

"We've no plans to harm anyone here"
MV shot her a glare that seemed to say speak for yourself. Impact ignored her, now that she'd had her little tantrum Megan wouldn't try to hurt anyone unless they acted first.

"wait until the creep is done with Backtrack, he can show you, he can show people what's happened in the past."

She had no idea whether Backtrack could support their story but at least it bought her some thinking time.

"As a sign of good faith we can provide you with some information about Portland, there's a massive turf war going on there at the moment. After that, well we'll see what happens."

[mail-mi he/him]

The mist seemed to fade, though the air seemed thicker without the mist than with it. What the sparks is going on with this woman? BusDriver thought, examining the Epic. 

 

"Accident, mostly," Mistwraith said. "I was going somewhere, but ended up nowhere. And nowhere ended up somewhere." She shrugged, then smiled. "So what's going on here?" 

 

"Um," BusDriver said, searching his memory banks that were ever-decreasing with age. "2 factions, Vondra owns most of the town now, but we're fighting back." He had to make Quicksilver sound like the good guy. He wouldn't be happy if they lost another Epic to Vondra, and if Quicksilver wasn't happy, no one was happy. He still remembered the day that Hydron had joined up with Vondra. BusDriver shuddered at the memory. 

 

"We, Quicksilver, me, and the team, are the good guys," BusDriver said, deciding to be blunt instead of subtle. He was no good at subtle, anyway. "We're trying to take back from Vondra what is rightfully ours. Wanna join up?" It was one of the worst let's-make-Quicksilver-sound-good speeches that had ever been given, but BusDriver hoped it would work. 

 

 

Miner pulled himself out of the chasm he'd made with his one good arm, using his arm encased in stone for traction. The chasm wall had protected him from the blast that Miner assumed had been made by Torch, though the ends of his hair had been singed. 

 

As he stood and straightened himself, he turned around and looked at where the platform had been. Now, it was just a crater filled with corpses. Torch, Ringmaster, and Bubble lay there, their eyes lifeless. Miner felt a stab of anger at the three Epics that'd come in and messed the place up. They'd killed his entire alliance. No one was left but him, and possibly Ghostknife, but without Ringmaster, she couldn't be trusted. 

 

They would be ended. He'd heard that one of their names was Paladin. He was the one in the unscratchable armor, with that sword of his. Well, his armor wouldn't save him next time Miner got to him, oh no. \

 

Of course, Miner couldn't do it alone. He started to make his way north--or, at least, he thought it was north. He'd gotten wind of an Epic, one Ironmonger, who was trying to start an empire of his own. Well, Miner would help him build that empire. He grinned madly as he walked past a group of vanillas fleeing from the parking lot, then opened up a chasm underneath them and watched them tumble into the depths of the Earth. 

 

Oh yes, he'd help Ironmonger build his empire. He had only one requirement. 

 

I get to kill Paladin. 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[mail-mi he/him]

 

Reader had expected Steven to whimper. He’d expected the horrified look on his face. He’d expected the several quivers that ran up Steven’s spine.

 

He’d expected all of those things.

 

He hadn’t expected this.

 

Steven just sat there with his ridiculous sunglasses in his lap, staring off into space. Reader knew he was using his powers to look off into some era of the past, but it was sparking infuriating sitting there and waiting for him to return. Reader could only hope he was seeing something horrifying, something to do with Koschei the Deathless, something....

 

Koschei. Suddenly, Reader didn’t want Backtrack looking into the past of this room at all. He was about to pull out his pistol again and shoot the man in the other arm when Steven’s eyes focused again and he turned shakily to Reader.

 

“Listen," he said, a faltering smile on his face. "Whatever you think I can do for you, you're wrong. I'm no use to you. I can tell you quite earnestly that I've never been useful to anyone in my entire life. You know that isn't a lie."

 

Reader heard an audible “gulp” before Steven moved on. "I'm just here to find out if Remington Springfield still has family...”

 

Remington Springfield. Remington sparking Springfield. Reader stopped listening. I can’t have heard that right, he thought. But, he had. And his Reading of Steven confirmed it.

 

Steven knew Remington Springfield. Which meant that Remington Springfield was still alive.

 

This time, it was Reader’s mouth that went dry.

 

* * *

The Dalles, two years previously

 

“Sparking man,” Reader grumbled on his way back to the church garage. The man he was speaking of was none other than Remington Springfield, son of Patrick and Nancy Springfield and brother of Daisy, who were cowering in the garage along with the rest of the prisoners. Vanilla guards and a few Epics surrounded the open garage doors, with orders to shoot anyone who tried to escape.

 

Reader reached the garage and stood erect in front of it, watching the prisoners mill around inside. He could easily spot the Springfields in the crowd. They were the ones glaring at the guards--even the Epic guards--instead of looking down like all the other good vanillas. Reader had half a mind to shoot the three of them, just to show all the Springfields who was really in charge. Why, Reader--

 

A single gunshot.

 

Then several more.

 

The garage erupted into chaos. Bullets were flying everywhere as vanilla guards shot at what they thought was the source, and more than a few dropped from bullets that came from their friends. The prisoners--especially the Springfields--looked up with excitement, thinking that perhaps they would be able to get free. Reader was about to do something about that, when a stray bullet took him in the left arm.

 

Pain exploded from his arm. Reader yelped and grabbed his arm where the bullet had hit. Not for the first time, he cursed Calamity for not giving him any defensive powers. He put as much pressure as he could on the wound with his other arm--he could still feel the bullet in there, pressed up against the bone.

 

Unfortunately, Calamity hadn’t given him any good offensive powers either, so he dashed away as quickly as he could from the shooting and toward the church. Koschei will be able to heal me, he thought as he ran. He’ll heal me and remove this sparking bullet and kill that Calamity-cursed Remington!

 

Reader stopped when he saw the red-and-blue flashing lights around the church. If those officers knew he was working for Koschei.... As quick as he’d come Reader spun around headed for the church pavilion. It was a bit too close to the garage for comfort, but it was either maybe being shot by a stray bullet or definitely being shot by an officer. He arrived and sat down on one of the metal benches, then--still holding his arm--got his radio out with his wounded arm. Wincing at the pain, Reader pressed the “talk” button. “Koschei, can you read me?” He set the radio down and commenced making a makeshift bandage out of his tie.

 

Koschei’s voice came through the radio. “Tell me you ordered those soldiers to fire.”

 

Reader winced again--but not at the bullet wound this time. “I wish I could. It was that sparking man Remington!”

 

A pause followed. “Remington Springfield?”

 

Reader nodded, though he knew Koschei couldn’t see him. “Yes. Him.”

 

When Koschei spoke, his voice was low and cold. “Is he with you? Do you have him injured, in custody, with you?”

 

Reader swallowed. “I...no. I left him with the soldiers, who were commanded to take him in.”

 

"Did you know they were planning this?"

 

“No, I never really looked at them. I was a bit busy Reading Remington and that sparking wife of his, Laurie.”

 

"Is she at least with you?"

 

The pain in his arm was starting to dull, but Reader knew that any help from Koschei was going to be a long time coming, considering the mood Koschei was in. “No. As I said before, I left them with the soldiers.”

 

Koschei paused again. "I'll be there soon."

 

Another voice cut into the conversation. "Don't worry, capable people will be there in a moment," Frequency's snide voice said. "Let us go, my lord.” Frequency raised his voice, probably shouting to the soldiers outside the church. “Your lord, The Deathless One, is leaving now. Remove yourselves from his path or be removed.” Whistling was the next sound through the radio and as bullets fired, Reader heard the snap that was them shattering from the whistles. Next came a mild boom as, he assumed, Frequency clapped to clear a path through police and soldiers. "We're through!" Frequency shouted. "I knocked over a whole bunch of the guards and shattered the others' guns, Reader. Sorry you can't do that." The radio clicked off.  

 

Reader gritted his teeth and set his radio down. He'd be sure to get Frequency back, somehow, when he saw him again and could Read him. He leaned back and put more pressure on his bullet wound, listening to the continued gunshots and occasional booms that came from the church.

 

Despite the pressure--or maybe because of it--the wound continued to pulse with pain. Springfield! Reader cursed. It was his fault that Reader had been shot.

 

I will end you, Springfield. I will make sure that, whether by my hand or Koschei's, you will die. Another pulse of pain came from the wound. You will die.

 

Remington Springfield will die.

 

*     *     *

 

Reader, with some effort, shook himself back into the present. Steven looked at him with expectant eyes, probably awaiting his next snide comment. Reader, however, couldn't bring himself to say anything. Springfield is alive.

 

Reader looked up at the one remaining soldier in the room. "Go get Autumn," he said, forcing his voice not to shake. "Tell her to come in here. I have...the third Epic is ready." The soldier nodded and stepped out of the office.

 

Reader leaned back, releasing a shaky breath. He didn't care that Steven saw him being weak. He didn't care about anything; his mind was still on the past. A past wrought with pain, deception, and betrayal. And, weaving through it all, was one man.

 

And that man was still alive.

 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

Sincerity, from an Epic, was like a unicorn. Beautiful. Magnificent, even. Good luck, more likely than not. But, more than anything, an Epic's sincerity was rare, rumored to be a myth. Remington Springfield was one of the few lucky enough to have seen it. 

 

And now, unless the more serious twin was a pathological liar, Autumn had seen it too. 

 

An Epic who could see the past. A pair of twins from Portland, with knowledge of the turf wars. Autumn's head spun with images of the City Guard solving crimes deemed unsolvable, of Vondra preparing the Guard for whatever threats might wander over from Portland. No more humans framed for crimes that couldn't be pinned to any Epic in particular. No more wondering about which Epics might try to take The Dalles next. Lives would be saved, reputations cleared, battles won before they had to be fought at all—

 

Reader's door opened and closed. "Glass, Reader's ready for you. Wants you to take Backtrack to our—" The soldier, a young woman named Jordan McKenzie, pressed her lips together and cut her eyes toward the door. "Healer." 

 

Autumn stifled a sigh. So Reader had been bragging again. He did that from time to time, whenever he thought mentioning Koschei's name might drive someone to frustration—and when he decided to go down that path, he insisted upon taking everyone in The Dalles with him. Referring to Dr. Game as anything but the town's healer would earn the guilty party a list of their secrets, plus analysis provided to whoever happened to be within earshot. 

 

Autumn was not in the mood. Reader had already dissected every event in her relatively short life and paraded each one of her character flaws before whoever wanted to see. She didn't need another round of that. Autumn nodded to the soldiers. "Let them go. If they're telling the truth about that glass, they'll be fine with just an armed escort." 

 

She opened the door, giving the past-seeing Epic a smile and a wave. How he saw anything through those pink sunglasses of his was anyone's guess, but she had seen worse costumes. "Hi there. Autumn Glass, not an Epic." Her gaze rested on the bullet wound marring his arm, which seemed to have been temporarily bandaged by some sort of contained wind. Instincts told her to touch it gently, let him feel cared for, but it was safer to wait until she knew whether or not he had a secondary. She winced. "That looks like it hurts. Why don't you come with me and the twins, and I'll take you to our…healer." 

 

The pink-sunglassed Epic cringed visibly at the word, so Autumn decided to send him some veiled encouragement. Better if he knew not everyone in The Dalles was a fan of the late Deathless One. "He's the best healer we've ever had," she said, raising her hands to form air quotes around the word healer. She shot Reader a glare, saw he was shaking, and frowned. Had the past-seeing Epic taken Reader back to the moment of Koschei's death? Was that why he looked nearly as shaken as Reader? 

 

Whatever the case, Reader's momentary fear bought her enough time to leave his office unaccompanied by insults. She tilted her head toward the door, which was held by one of the soldiers. "Come on, let's go. And I don't think I caught any of your names?" 

Edited October 31, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Seonid he/him]

 

The world twisted and turned around Paladin, vision turning white as light enveloped him. With a thump of exploding air, the light vanished again, revealing the familiar walls of their apartment and the broken plate-glass window in the hall. Paladin shivered, remembering Torch falling from the sky, fire flaring higher and higher, while he stood frozen, unable to respond. It was the first time that his precognition had shown him his own inevitable death. Only the platform's inexplicable lurch had saved them, breaking Ringmaster's hold on their minds and allowing Guardian to teleport them to safety.

Ranger's voice came through his headset, wirelessly connected to the mobile over his heart. "We have a confirmed impact. I'll go over and check to make sure, but it looks like all of the primary targets have been eliminated."

That was a lucky break. Providential, even. On further reflection, it was likely a sign. The bright power that had guided his steps had not failed him in his hour of need, but had provided the means to escape at the last moment. He felt a surge of confidence. With such a power behind him, they couldn't fail! They would make the world safe again, safe from Epics, safe from the cult, safe from the power of the Dark Gods. And he would be the leader to usher in this era of peace. Almost, he began to drift off into a blissful daydream.

But now was not the time. There was work to be done. His chief concern right now had to be himself. The good of the world could wait for an hour or two.

He took off his overshirt, examining his injured arm. The flesh was gray, and it seemed unresponsive. He poked it with his finger, trying to judge his sense of touch. He cursed. There was no response.

The outburst seemed to jolt Guardian out of her shock. She immediately came over to him. "Let me see that." She began poking and prodding, but it could have been a lump of beef at a butcher's shop for all he could feel it.

"The girl's knife was different," Guardian was saying. "It passed straight through solid material, even flesh. Nothing was damaged except for nerves. She got me in the leg. Without my regeneration, I'd still be unable to walk."

"I see. Can it be fixed?"

Her look was answer enough.

"Well then, it will have to go."

"What?!" Guardian's voice raised ever so slightly.

"You heard me. It will have to go. If it can't be healed, it's a liability. Dead wood. Not pulling its own weight, dragging me backwards." He walked over to the counter, using his left hand to pick up his useless arm and place it on the smooth marble.

"Now. Cut it off." Guardian's eyes went wide.

"No, I couldn't...I mean I can't...I mean..."

"I don't have time for your excuses, woman. Pick up your sword and cut it off. I refuse to be saddled with a weakness." His voice was cold as ice.

Reluctantly, she raised her sword above her head, bringing it down again in one swift motion. He could have sworn that she averted her eyes as it bit into flesh. Calamity! He had to hold back from cursing like a sailor.  Guardian stumbled backward, face white, covering her eyes. The pain was excruciating, but that was expected. And the lump of useless flesh no longer hung from his elbow. He grunted, but managed to keep from screaming.

"Well, woman?" His voice held a small hint of a sneer. "Are you going to just let me bleed to death?"

As she scrambled to begin putting together a tourniquet, Paladin began to smile to himself. The loss of the right arm was a blow, to be sure, but it forced him to become proficient with his left. Few people were prepared for a left-handed swordsman in this day and age. With luck, and the attention of providence that he surely had, he could turn the loss of his arm into a devastating advantage on the battlefield.

Even a setback like this served eventually to work towards his ultimate goal.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *  

 

Arvin slowed his pace as the jail disappeared behind the burned-out hulks of a residential district. The little girl showed no signs of tiring, and it would do no good to run right into danger while trying to escape it. The streets were deserted. The Dalles had looked a lot like this, everyone gone in hiding, or dead. After...his thoughts trailed off. He couldn't face it. Not again. But his thoughts seemed determined to betray him to a surge of guilt and shame. Images rose in his mind, faster than he could suppress them. The elementary school where he had once taught. The classroom. Colors. The deep purple  of a regal cloak. The bright red of fresh blood. That unforgettable metallic tang in the air. Screams. Always the screams.

It was the girl who snapped him out of it. "Are we stopping here? I don't see anywhere to hide?" He hadn't realized he had stopped walking.

It took visible effort for him to pay attention, but he managed. Slowly, his mind became his own again. "No, we aren't stopping here for long. I just need to catch my breath a little."

Her young face grew thoughtful. "You old folks need to catch your breath a lot. My daddy always used to do that when he went on a walk with me."

Arvin found himself smiling at the little girl's chatter. "Does your daddy live around here?"

Her face fell. "Not anymore. He died-ed when the bad metal man came here. My mommy was very sad then. She was sick and then the metal man took her away." She looked like she was about to start crying. Sparks, this is awkward. He hadn't really interacted with children for almost two years.

He had a vague idea that he should comfort her, but no idea how to go about it. The silence hung in the air like a stifling blanket. He had to say something.

"So...what's your name?" The girl smiled, as if she was grateful for the change of subject. "My name's Ari, because it's short for Ariana but I always wanted to be called Elsa because when I saw Frozen, I just loved Elsa and I wanted to be just like her. Did you see Frozen?" The words tumbled out in a rush. And just like that, the ice was broken. Arvin could feel the tension snap. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I did, actually. It was my daughter's favorite movie." That brought another wave of memories that he had no strength to deal with right now. He found himself blinking back tears just at the thought. He was grateful again when Ari started chattering again.

"Oh! Well I just love the movie because of the snow and the magic and the castle. And Elsa. She's my favorite princess..." She continued to talk as they started moving again. After her third time going over her favorite part of the movie, the part when Elsa got a new dress, she finally started to wind down. Arvin seized the chance to speak.

"Well, Ari, how do you feel about going to a place where we can watch Frozen together? It's a place that will be safe from the bad metal man, too." It was the truth, from a certain point of view. They would be safe as long as she was there. Assuming his beliefs were correct.

"Ooh! That would be fun! And we could make popcorn, and have candy, and...oh!...do you have apple trees, mister? I love apples. And then we could pick apples and look at the flowers!" Her voice trailed off a little, and she looked at him shyly. "Mister?"

"Yes, Ari?"

"Well, um...never mind." It was a familiar situation with children, and he found himself smiling. "It's OK. You don't have to be embarrassed. What's up?"

"I was just wondering..." She was obviously uncomfortable now. Then she got a look of determination on her face. "Mister, could you be my new daddy?"

The question stopped him dead in his tracks. Can I do this? Can I really make myself vulnerable like that again? But almost immediately the thought came back. But I can't just leave her alone. Not now. Vondra will use her, and use her up if he needs to to save the place from Ironmonger. I need to be there to protect her. And I might as well start today. For all of the shock that the question brought, there was only one answer he could give. "Yes, Ari, I can be your new daddy, if you want. We can be our own little family."

She laughed out loud at that, and then ran away, yelling "Look at me, mister!'" She skipped ahead happily to go and pick a dandelion puffball, and strangely, Arvin felt his heart lighten in a way that it hadn't for more years than he'd like to remember. He had a purpose again.

[Tulir he/him]

Steven listened as Glass took over the situation and defused it.  While she and the Epics were talking, he took the time to study them.

 

"As a sign of good faith we can provide you with some information about Portland, there's a massive turf war going on there at the moment. After that, well we'll see what happens." One of them said, and Steven stiffened.  A turf war?!  Sparks, those never turn out well.  

 

As a soldier came in to speak with Glass about the third man, Steven ignored them and focused on the girls.  "A turf war?" he asked.  "I need the names of the Epics involved, anything you know about their powers, and other information relevant to the situation."

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Thank you, mail-mi, for providing Reader's dialog!

Two years ago

For one shining moment, Koschei strode through the soldiers unimpeded.

Frequency’s claps were far more effective than even Koschei could have dreamed. At the sound, every soldier within the thirty-foot blast radius fell to the snow. It was a beautiful sight, really, watching them crumple as their comrades covered their ears and dropped their weapons. Koschei felt the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. This was how it ought to be, he thought as he stepped over one fallen soldier, then another. This was how it could be, would be, when The Dalles was his.

Another barrage of gunfire, cut short by another one of Frequency’s whistles, tried and failed to block his passage.

Koschei stepped over another body, turned, and spoke without raising his voice. There was no need. “The church, such as it is, belongs to me, as do the children in it. Attempt to take them, and they will die in your arms.”

A quick wave of his hand, followed by the reopening of George’s throat, prompted shouts and cries from the nearby soldiers. The one holding him tried futily to stop the blood pouring from the wound. Koschei smiled. “Frequency, ensure my wishes are respected, and call if they are not.”

By the time they resumed firing, Koschei had already reached the garage. His mouth tightened when he saw Reader, sitting on a metal bench and holding his arm. Blood soaked his fingers. “Tell me who shot you.”

"No idea," Reader said, wincing as Koschei lifted his arm to examine the wound. "Just a stray bullet."

With great effort, Koschei kept from rolling his eyes. Reader could know a mortal's childhood crush at a glance, but a shooter's identity eluded him. A shooter who would have been unable to fire had he and his fellow soldiers simply been Read before they betrayed him in favor of Remington Springfield and that wife of his. Koschei was tempted to leave the wound as it was, but an alliance was an alliance. "Did you at least remove the bullet?"

"No," Reader scoffed. "I figured that you, the immortal Deathless One and God of Healing, could remove it painlessly."

Frequency was whistling again, bullets ceasing to be with loud pops. Koschei's radio crackled with three separate suggestions for which child deserved to die. Somewhere, close but not close enough, Remington Springfield was making his escape, and Reader fumed over a bullet placed in his arm by his own stupidity. Koschei wanted to twist Reader's bicep until he screamed, but there simply wasn't time. "You do realize what you did, don't you?" He placed his hand over the wound. "What you gave the people in this city when Springfield escaped?"

Reader looked at Koschei, his eyes widening. "No, no, that won't happen. What you just did, just barely, at the church, that will crush their hopes. Besides, we'll kill him personally when we see him again. We'll make sure that happens."

"If we don't, we'll have a savior on our hands." Savior. The word tasted vile, like treachery. Reader's blood was warm against Koschei's palm, oozing through his fingers, where it ought to have stopped flowing. Frowning, Koschei lifted his hand. The wound was still wide, still bleeding.

No.

Koschei covered the wound again, willing the edges together, but the flow of blood continued. When he lifted his hand, the wound was still there, still an ugly gash on his skin. A gash that would not heal. "What did you do, Reader?" He searched his comrade's eyes for any hint of deception, of malice. "Why won't you let me heal this?"

"I'm not doing anything! Why aren't you healing me?”

There was genuine panic in his eyes, but the note of accusation in his tone made Koschei withdraw his hand. Reader’s wound wouldn’t heal, and Springfield was getting further away by the second. He wiped Reader's blood on his shirt. "You did something. I don’t know what you did, but you did something.” His teeth clenched, and he stood. "Remove the bullet before I try again."

He left Reader clutching his wound, tripping over half-formed words as he struggled to voice his rage.

Edited November 2, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Voidus]

"I need the names of the Epics involved, anything you know about their powers, and other information relevant to the situation."

Megan rolled her eyes to try to distract herself from her desire to pop the man's out of his skull.

"And you're going to keep on needing them until you all stop threatening us." She said, gracing the man with a disdainful sneer and earning one of her own from Impact.

This was all her idea anyway, why's she getting all high and mighty?

MV softened slightly as she regarded her sister, Impact was her rock, her way of determining when her emotions got too out of hand. She smiled apologetically such as she was able and received one in return. Thankfully Autumn Glass seemed to have deemed that they at least weren't deserving of immediate execution, and it seemed that Backtrack would receive similar treatment. Megan was startled to realize that she actually missed the Seeing Epic and his weird sunglasses. It had only been a short time but she'd found herself worried about leaving him with 'the Slontze'.

It's just because he helped us get away from the creepy museum, I'm just trying to repay the favor. She gave a small internal laugh. It's not like I actually like him or anything.

[mail-mi he/him]

Bluntness seemed to work, surprisingly.

 

"Is there anyone that can help me with my new Epic powers?" Mistwraith asked, but before BusDriver could respond, she answered herself. "I guess so, yes." 

 

Suddenly, she flew backwards into the mist, disappearing from sight. BusDriver heard a crash as she landed on something. A single brick landed in front of BusDriver.

 

Then the entire sparking building started to topple down.

 

BusDriver yelped and made for the exit of the alleyway, managing to not get crushed by stray rubble.  The mist that had spilled out of the crevice was thick enough that the sun didn't touch his skin even when he was out. 

 

He could see the form of Mistwraith stand up inside of the alley. Sparks! he thought. That woman is strong!

 

She just kept talking like nothing had happened. "Any major faction ought to have really powerful Epics to keep up with the others. Are you an Epic?" She walked forward until he could see more than just her shape in the mist. 

 

"What was that for?!" BusDriver yelled. "You almost crushed me! You knocked down the entire Calamity-cursed building! What the sparks?" He sighed. "I can make anything into a bus. Here, come with me and I'll show you. Then we can get back to Quicksilver." He headed out to the sunlight, checking over his shoulder to see if she was following. 

 

When they got to an empty part of the road, BusDriver picked up a pebble. "Stand back," he said. "I wouldn't want to be near this thing when it transforms." He set the pebble on the ground, then got away as quickly as he could. The pebble grew and stretched and turned into a shiny party bus, complete with stripper pole and laser lights. 

 

BusDriver sighed. "Unfortunately, I can't choose which type of bus it becomes." BusDriver pulled open the door and stepped inside. "Come on in. The party's waiting."

 

 

 

Miner continued his trek north to Ironmonger. He figured he was almost there, the state border was in about one more mile, and Ironmonger was said to have set up shop in Goldendale, Washington. 

 

Suddenly, Miner sensed a deposit of rubies underneath him. Really, really deep down. And it was tiny--no more than 5 good sized rubies and a few more smaller ones. Not like it mattered to Miner, not anymore. When he'd first got his powers, rubies and sapphires and diamonds had seemed of incredible worth to him. But, with the onslaught of Epics throughout the Fractured States, not even precious jewels seemed to have that much value. Besides, why use money when you can just make anyone holding you back drop into a chasm that leads to the center of the earth? 

 

A vanilla man ran past him with his head down. Miner caught his shoulder, forcibly turning him towards him. "Hey," he said in a harsh whisper. "I know where we can find some rubies. Want to get some?" 

 

The man tried to pull away, but when Miner wouldn't let him, nodded almost imperceptibly. 

 

"Good. I'll show you where they are." Miner stepped away, then opened a chasm directly underneath the man. His screams echoed up the cavern as he fell directly into the ruby deposit, his body crunching as it hit the bottom. 

 

Miner laughed gleefully and looked down over the hole. "They're down there." 

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[Lightsworn Panda he/him]

It was sometime in the afternoon when the Panda Army invaded Dalles.

 

For years, the Panda had worked on his goal. It had been about a decade since he was visited by the vision of the Radiant Panda, but the zeal that it had put in Panda still burned bright. For years, the Panda had amassed his army of pandas, delicately cloning and bestowing intelligence upon them. Behind the hill he was standing atop, thousands upon thousands of pandas stood in ordered ranks, cute and adorable faces set in grim determination. Before the horde of black and white fur lay the unsuspecting town of Dalles. Its denziens were still asleep, curled up in their soft beds.

 

The Panda breathed in deeply through his panda nose. He had once been human too. But he had cast aside the frailty of Humanity, and become a True Panda.

 

"Colonel Cuddles, you may begin the assault," murmured the Panda.

 

A panda standing to his right, wearing a red sashimono - the small flags samurai traditionally wore on their backs - saluted the Panda, and roared a command to the amassed pandas behind him. Each panda was outfitted like a classic samurai, with lacquered armor and a kasa (a flat and large round hat made out of reeds or straw).The Panda could not, sadly, clone materials such as steel, so his warriors had to make do with their organic counterparts. Each panda was armed with multiple sharpened bamboo spears, and a rather out of place yew longbow, not dissimilar to the ones the British would use in Medieval times. 

 

As one, the pandas took out their bows, strung them up and nocked arrows wrapped in oiled paper to their bows. Pandas hurried down the line, lighting the arrows with a torch. 

 

When the last arrow was lit, Colonel Cuddles roared a second order. Thousands of flaming arrows were released, shooting into the sky, each trailing a tail of fire, before reaching the apex of their climb, and began cresting downwards towards the town.

 

As the first arrows hit the town of Dalles, the Panda signaled a repositioning. The town was populated by Epics, and he doubted his pandas, as numerous as they were, could fare well against them. The pandas split up, running unnaturally fast towards defensive structures grown out of oak that had been set up around Dalles in Siege formation.

 

The Panda remained alone on the hill. He wasn't terribly fond of violence, and was open for diplomacy. However, he doubted the power-hungry epics would talk diplomatically, and so the show of force was necessary to cow them. 

 

The Panda had come to Dalles to create a haven for pandas. Sadly, Dalles was already inhabited. Driving them out was an unfortunate necessity. 

 

Buildings began to catch fire across the town. The Siege of Dalles had begun in earnest.

Edited November 8, 2014 by Lightsworn Panda

[Seonid he/him]

The car was hidden in a small stand of trees, about a quarter mile outside of town. Ari laughed happily the moment she saw it. "I've never driven in a car before! Do we actually get to drive in it?" A tension seemed to have dropped from her since their conversation on the road, and her face seemed less worried.

 

That was a blessing.

 

Arvin smiled reassuringly. "Yes we do. In fact, we get to drive in it for a long time. You might be bored of it by the time we get home."

 

"I could never be bored of driving in a car! That would be like getting bored of sunshine! Only boring people would get bored of that." Arvin couldn't help himself, and he laughed uproariously. Her comment made a perverse sort of sense. He was going to have to get used to this again.

 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice spoke.

 

"Interesting thing, finding a car like this one in a place like that. You almost might think that someone didn't want folks to know it was here."

 

The voice came from a man who leaned against the side of the car. Arvin could have sworn he hadn't been there a moment ago. He had a hawkish nose, and wore a brown leather jacket over what looked like military fatigues. Almost unconsciously, Arvin moved to place himself between the stranger and Ari, cursing himself for leaving his gun behind. Not that there had been a chance to grab it, of course. The stranger had a longbow and a sniper rifle slung across his back, and what looked like a machete in one hand, point resting on the ground, spinning idly.

 

"You might. And you might be right if you thought it. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

 

The stranger laughed a little. "The name's Ranger. And I'm just interested, justifiably I'd presume, in who would hide a car such as this and what they were doing here in Madras. A reasonable question, I feel."

 

Ranger. That sounds like an Epic name. This could get ugly fast. "Well, I'm sorry to leave your curiosity unsatisfied, but my daughter and I were on our way out, and we don't have time to answer stranger's questions."

 

"Hmm. That sounds right uncharitable, that does. Are you really in such a hurry to get back to The Dalles?" The stranger's smile grew wider, as if he knew that his statement would catch them off guard.

 

Arvin was experienced enough not to show his shock, but it took effort. "Now why on earth would you think that was our destination?"

 

"Oh...that's only where the registration is from, the GPS is set there to home, and all of the phone numbers in the car phone have area codes registered to The Dalles. A rather simple proposition, really."

 

In the face of that, the likelihood of a peaceful ending to this was growing slimmer by the minute. But there was room for one last try. "Get in the car, Ari. We're not going to listen to this snoop any longer." As he led her to the car, he noticed her shaking. The fear was back, and it hadn't even been fifteen minutes. He could have shot the man for just that alone. The stranger moved to put his hand on the door, preventing them from opening it. "Now, that's just downright impolite. I'd suggest you answer my questions. They are more important than you may realize." He moved to put his hand on Ari's shoulder. "I promise, I don't mean you any harm."

 

Ari jumped when he touched her. Arvin moved to take the man's hand off, but stopped in shock. A white something was coming through the trees. He recognized it from the jail. A unicorn again. What is going on here? But he knew enough to get them out of the way. The stranger heard the galloping hooves just in time and rolled out of the way. The unicorn turned around to charge at him again. Arvin hurried Ari to the car, then jumped in the driver's seat. Regardless of where it had come from, he was going to use the distraction.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

Reader was still shaking. 

 

He definitely just saw Koschei's death, Autumn thought. She almost pitied him. The tyrant's death had spelled salvation for The Dalles, but it wasn't the sort of thing she liked to relive, even as the observer she had been. Poor Remington had been the one outside, listening to that monster until death relieved him of his company. 

 

Taking advantage of Reader's discomfort, Autumn herded the three Epics out the door, closing it quietly behind her. If she slammed it, Reader would complain of a nonexistent headache later, and a complaining Reader was worse than a gleeful Reader. Of course, the only Reader that had a chance of being somewhat tolerable was a sleeping Reader, and Autumn had never caught him napping. 

 

"All right," she said, wincing inwardly at the false cheer in her voice. "Let's get out of here." 

 

Jordan McKenzie and Bill Waters flanked them as they approached the door. Autumn nearly stopped and asked for additional soldiers—they deserved a break from Reader and forming an armed escort would be the perfect excuse—but the twins had established themselves as non-threats, and the past-seeing Epic, whose name was apparently Backtrack, seemed to have no secondary to speak of. Autumn was certain she could take the small, skinny Epic with her revolver, should the need arise. 

 

Just the thought made her wince. Her, all five-feet-six-inches of her and her loaded weapon, against him? He wouldn't stand a chance. 

 

Point was, Vondra didn't like waste. Requesting four soldiers for an armed escort when only two were needed would be a waste of manpower—a small waste, but waste nonetheless. Resisting the urge to smile apologetically at those she had left behind, Autumn opened the church doors. 

 

Alarms rang. Weapons were drawn. Soldiers hurried back and forth. Autumn drew her revolver and quickly tuned her radio from the Church-only channel to the emergency one. 

 

​"…arrows, homes and businesses in northern sector aflame. All available personnel, report to the nearest command station. Epics move to the front line at city borders. Repeat: This is not a drill. The Dalles is under attack." 

 

Autumn took a moment to compose herself. ​Not since Deathwish…. But if The Dalles was under attack, these new Epics needed to see how the people handled it: with practiced calm. She nodded to Backtrack. 

 

"Let's get that arm fixed up." 

[Fatebreaker he/him]

What will you do now, Stephen? I struck harder than I have in a long time, and there are an abundance of casualties. What's your next move? Will you simply try to crack down on crime, or will you try something more clever?

 

Quicksilver was deep in contemplation, sitting in his massive  high-backed chair. It was beautiful and throne-like, and was made completely out of Platinum. 

He was roused from his thoughts when Surveillance's voice came from a speaker on the wall.

 

"Quicksilver, we've received a transmission from Bus. He says he has a powerful new Epic with him. Orders?"

 

The voice of Fritz chimed in, "I'll take double cheeseburger, hold the tomato."

 

Quicksilver ignored him. A powerful new Epic, right after he had attacked? Could be a plant for Stephen. He pulled a com out of his pocket. 

 

"Mirror, Driver has brought in a new Epic. Possible spy of Vondra's, proceed with caution. 

 

Suddenly Surveillance was on the speaker again.

 

"Sir! A large amount of flaming arrows have hit the city! They were fired from outside the walls."

 

Arrows? Who uses Arrows? Quicksilver answered his own question.  An Epic, that's who. He barked into the com.

 

"Get me eyes outside the walls and monitor Vondra's reaction."

 

There was silence for a few moments then,

 

"Sir, you're not going to believe this, but, um... well, we're under siege by....

 

Pandas."

 

Quicksilver was silent for a moment, then spoke,

 

"Mirror proceed with the meeting. Surveillance, send out some drones. expect heightened senses for the Pandas, so maintain a low profile. If we need to we'll step in, but I want to enjoy the show first."

 

Quicksilver allowed himself a smile.

Attack by Pandas with longbows.

Stephen Vondra was going to love this.

Edited November 10, 2014 by Fatebreaker

[mail-mi he/him]

Mistwraith followed him into the bus, trailed by the sparking mist that seemed to follow her everywhere. Before she sat, she spoke. "Where are we going? I want to know who this Quicksilver is." She sat, a flourish of mist spreading out from her seat.

 

BusDriver started the bus. "To HQ. And you'll see who he is when we get there, capisce?"

 

She seemed subdued, and didn't say any more. BusDriver was content to let the ride continue in silence; the mist inside the bus thickening and slowly obscuring his vision. He finally gave up trying to see through it and opened to door to let some of it flow out; as this was a party bus, the windows were locked shut.

 

I probably should call ahead... BusDriver thought. Quicksilver wouldn't want me just showing up with a brand new powerful Epic. He got out his mobile and spoke into it. "Surveillance, you there?"

 

"Right here," Surveillance's voice affirmed. "Where are you, Driver? Aura and Horizon got here more than a half hour ago."

 

"Ran into some trouble," BusDriver said, making a right turn. "Found a new Epic; she almost crushed me with an entire Calamity-cursed building. Says she wants to join us though."

 

"Right-o. I'll warn Quicksilver." The mobile clicked as Surveillance hung up. BusDriver put his mobile away and continued to drive to HQ.

 

When they were about halfway there, BusDriver heard a loud ping on the roof. Curious, he looked up out of the windshield and saw a thousand little tiny specks of light arching over and falling towards the Dalles. One landed in front of him.

 

A burning arrow.

 

Shocked, BusDriver floored the gas. He looked up at the mirror, where he could see Mistwraith suddenly grip her seat, then look up at him with an arched eyebrow.

 

He answered her unasked question. "We have to get to Quicksilver, and fast. Someone is sparking attacking the Dalles!"

 

 

Autumn and Steven left. Reader felt as if he should have said something snide, something to tick Autumn off, but when he finally recovered fully from his flashback, they were already out the door.

 

Yes, Springfield’s alive, but it’s not like he remembers me, right? Reader assured himself. Besides, he’s not here in the Dalles with Steven, otherwise he would’ve come with him, right? Content with his conclusion, Reader reached under his desk to grab yet another empty goblet--his last--and a new bottle of wine. He unstoppered the wine and started to pour himself a gla--

 

Sirens went off. Reader heard bustling around in the hallway outside his office. Fearing the worst, he stood up--taking his now-full goblet with him, of course--and went up to the door. Before he could open it, however, it swung open in front of him, showing an escort of four soldiers.

 

“Reader, come with us,” the lead soldier--it just so happened to be Terry Bloom--said. “We’re taking you to the Bunker.”

 

The Bunker. That could only mean one thing. They were being attacked.

 

And Reader hated it when they were being attacked.

 

He had no defensive or offensive powers to speak of, so the soldiers all took him to the safest spot in town they could, a place they called the Bunker. And Reader had to do everything they said with exactness, because if he was ever in even the slightest of danger of being kidnapped.... He’d never been told this, but he Read it off of every soldier sent to him during times of trouble. Reader, if taken by any opposing force, would be such a huge asset that Vondra had issued an order.

 

“If Reader is ever in a position where he could be taken by an opposing army, I would rather he died than be taken and turned over to the other side.”

 

Well, Reader would rather he not died, and so he followed the soldier’s orders with precision, because if any of the soldiers caught any inkling of a chance that Reader would be kidnapped...well, they’d be more than happy to make sure he wasn’t.

 

Reader stepped out of his office and let the soldiers surround him. “Who is attacking us?” he questioned of the soldiers as they walked out of the church. Unfortunately, they were all thinking about it, so he couldn’t just Read it off of them.

 

Bloom turned around and started walking backwards, looking down at the ground. “Well, you’re not going to believe this, but...”

 

Reader sighed. “Stop it with the drama Bloom. Just tell me. Who is attacking the Dalles?” He took a sip of his wine, letting the flavorful liquid slide down his throat.

 

Bloom looked up at Reader’s face. “Pandas, sir. We’re being attacked by an army of pandas.”

Edited January 13, 2015 by mail-mi

[Kobold King he/him]

  

 

The room was silent.

 

That in and of itself was kind of a surprise, since Reader should have resumed his taunting by now. Backtrack frowned as he watched the slontze's face.

 

It almost looked as Reader were the one rendered speechless. Which was completely absurd--wasn't it? He didn't remember saying anything that might have offended or horrified him. All he'd said was the name Remington Spring--

 

Reader finally spoke out loud to the only soldier still standing in the room. "Go get Autumn," he said firmly. "Tell her to come in here. I have..." He paused noticeably, seeming to compose himself. "The third Epic is ready."

 

Though immensely curious to know what was getting under Reader's skin so badly, Backtrack kept his mouth shut. He tried looking at Reader at first, but then avoided making eye contact. There was one thing he'd learned since Calamity appeared--when an Epic was annoyed and had a fondness for shooting people, you didn't mess with them. It was a simple enough rule, but it was surprising how many snarky vanillas and overconfident minor Epics there were who still hadn't learned it. Backtrack still wasn't sure that he'd entirely learned it.

 

After a scant minute, the door to the office opened again, and a woman with auburn hair and freckles strode into the office.

 

"Hi there," she said warmly. "Autumn Glass, not an Epic."

 

Backtrack eyed her warily. Was this some sort of good-cop, bad-cop routine? He'd never been arrested before, but he'd seen that sort of thing all the time on TV.

 

Autumn's eyes seemed to float down to his injured arm, and she winced visibly. Too visibly, perhaps?

 

"That looks like it hurts. Why don't you come with me and the twins, and I'll take you to our…healer." 

 

Definitely a good-cop, bad-cop routine, Backtrack thought, his mouth once again going dry. He'd ask for a glass of water... but chances were, he'd be having his throat slit in a few minutes. He felt himself cringe involuntarily as he thought of it. The very dim bright side was that the twins weren't here to see him shaking--though that was probably because they'd already been murdered and un-murdered by Koschei the sparking Deathless.

 

Sparks.

 

 "He's the best healer we've ever had," Autumn was continuing emphatically, making air-quotes with her fingers. Sparks. Sparks sparks sparks sparks.

 

Before Backtrack could protest--assuming he could at all, with his mouth as dry as it was--Autumn Glass herded him out of the office. He quickly found himself in the hallways of the church, blessedly away from Reader. Impact and MV were standing sullenly against a wall, eyed by a pair of nervous soldiers.

 

The church seemed more active than it had been when they'd first arrived. Soldiers hurried back and forth, and what sounded like alarms buzzed in the air.

 

Autumn Glass seemed just as startled by the commotion as he was. The woman put a hand to her revolver as she pulled out a military radio, adjusting the channel with a serious expression.

 

Static flared through the device for a moment, before a dry voice crackled through the white noise. ​"…arrows, homes and businesses in northern sector aflame. All available personnel, report to the nearest command station. Epics move to the front line at city borders. Repeat: This is not a drill. The Dalles is under attack." 

 

The freckled woman frowned subtly, but turned to Backtrack with a composed expression. "Let's get that arm fixed up," she said simply.

 

Backtrack gave the momentum twins a helpless look, his feet planted firmly in place. "But.. but..." he tried to think of an excuse a reason to stay behind, but nothing came to mind. With a resigned sigh and a forlorn look to MV, he followed Autumn out of the halls.

 

There was silence as they walked, aside from the screeching alarms and shouting soldiers. Backtrack mustered up the courage to speak.

 

"So, uh," he began nervously. "How... how long have you worked for... for..." Well, not that much courage. He couldn't quite bring himself to say 'Koschei the Deathless.'

 

Instead, he resisted the urge to whimper and tried to keep his voice steady.

 

"How long have you worked for The Dalles?"

 

 

 

  

 

 

"Hostile forces reported on the city outskirts," Arsenal said through the radio. His voice crackled as dryly as the static. "Hostiles reported to possess an ursine appearance. Reported to be employing the strategic use of burning arrows; homes and businesses in northern sector aflame. All available personnel, report to the nearest command station. Epics move to the front line at city borders. Repeat: This is not a drill. The Dalles is under attack."

 

Ending the transmission, Arsenal turned away from the panicked technicians and walked out of the communications center.

 

The area around The Dalles HQ was in a frenzy. Around him was a wide courtyard-like structure, filled with soldiers rushing about to the sound of blaring sirens. The building was located in the center of the city, specifically chosen to be out of range from sudden attacks. That didn't stop the morons stationed there from panicking.

 

But that was to be expected. They were only human.

 

A small squad of soldiers rushed to Arsenal, their faces deeply concerned. "Orders from high command," one of them began urgently. "The Mayor has ordered the construction of a survey helicopter immediately."

 

"Vondra wants to see for himself, eh?" Arsenal rasped in reply. "Not surprising. You're all worked about this. Like none of you had ever seen an invasion before."

 

"Well, sir," a younger soldier began nervously. "This isn't just an invasion. We're being invaded by--"

 

"By an Epic," Arsenal stressed severely. "Every Epic out there has a theme or a motif. You know that."

 

Without waiting for a reply, Arsenal turned away from the soldiers. They really were idiots; every one of them. Too caught up in the apparent absurdity of the situation to do anything about it. Undoubtedly the mastermind behind this latest invasion was counting on just that.

 

Well, if they planned on taking Daniel Dewhickey by surprise, they were in for a good ol' shocker themselves. No one caught Arsenal unawares, and no one threatened the city he'd chosen to call home.

 

Arsenal raised his hand, and used his Calamity-granted gift.

 

Lines appeared in mid-air in front of him, forming the outline of the desired machine. The lines crossed and intersected, before finally coalescing into a solid aerial vehicle.

 

Arsenal turned back to the soldiers. "There you go. Tell Vondra his helicopter is ready."

 

He had made a sleek black helicopter, equipped with one mounted machine gun. Its side was emblazoned with "The Dalles City Guard," complete with the city flag and crest.

 

The soldiers he'd spoken to ran off to deliver their message, leaving Arsenal alone amidst all the commotion. Feeling somewhat annoyed, Arsenal conjured up another radio in his hand, setting it to the emergency setting.

 

"A reminder from Daniel Dewhickey," he rasped through the speaker. "Being invaded by weaponized pandas is not an excuse for forgetting established protocols. Nor is it an excuse for losing all sense of order and sanity. Thank you."

 

Pocketing the radio, he started to consider heading back to his quarters to wait out the assault when he saw two Epics pushing their way through the crowd.

 

Edgerunner and Glamour made their way to his side, looking confused by the city-wide panic. Edgerunner was silent, while Glamour's headset was steadily emanating what he recognized as R.E.M.'s "It's the End of the World."

 

I should have never conjured that headset for him, Arsenal thought grumpily. Suppressing the mild desire the crush Glamour under a Boeing jet, he instead turned to Edgerunner.

 

"I suppose you're wondering what's going on," he said in his gravelly voice. "I want to know what you learned at Outpost Tango. You brief me and I'll brief you."

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

 

Backtrack was far more nervous than he should have been. 

 

He was small as Epics went, and seemed to have just the one power. Nothing that would help him in a fight, unless he happened to relive a few martial arts classes. He might be able to learn one choke escape in the span of a single class, though mastery would take much longer. Still, he was an Epic. He should have pushed Koschei's death to the back of his mind by now. Started up a pompous history lesson. Or a disturbing one. Anything to make her feel weak and insignificant. 

 

Instead, he hesitated. Stood in the church doorway and looked as though he would rather bolt into the recesses of the church than go to the doctor. Stammered "But" a few times before following, looking for all the world like a dog with his tail between his legs. 

 

Why is he so jumpy? She was about to ask what was wrong when the realization struck. 

 

Portland. The turf wars. Backtrack must be working for one of the High Epics laying claim to territory. A resurrection Epic, maybe? That would explain why Koschei's death scared him so badly. Watching the Deathless die had shaken her to her core. How much more for an Epic tasked with carrying out another immortal's orders? 

 

Don't let them get too arrogant. Vondra's orders cut through her growing pity. He was right, of course. An arrogant Epic was a murderous Epic, and the more they were reminded of the town's savior, the less arrogant they could be. Usually, a trip past the Springfield—a club catering to Epics on their off hours—was reminder enough. If it didn't lie in the opposite direction of Dr. Game's office, she would have led him there. It was good for him, she told herself. Good for him to know Epics didn't always win. That even the Deathless was bound to the same law as everyone else.

 

Still, the way Backtrack glanced nervously around as though hoping a soldier would leap from the nearest house and lead him in the opposite direction….she wouldn't admit it to Vondra or any Epic in town, but it made her want to give him a hug. 

 

Before words of encouragement could tumble out of her mouth, Backtrack opened his. "So, uh…how long have you worked for…for…" 

 

Commander Vondra, she nearly supplied, but he covered his lack of knowledge quickly. 

 

"How long have you worked for The Dalles?" 

 

Odd way to put it. "I've been with the City Guard for going on two years now," she said, keeping one ear turned to the radio clipped to her belt. "I used to be a minister, back at the ranger station on Mount Hood. Nothing official, of course, but—you know—my dad was a minister, taught me some of the deeper theology along with the basics, I took it with me when I got hired, and when the other rangers decided to start a church, I guess they kind of looked to me when they needed help finding God." She smiled. "I'd always tell them, 'God's everywhere, all you have to do is look and he'll show up.'" 

 

She stopped, allowing a small group of soldiers to pass before rounding a corner. "We were all different denominations. Don't know how familiar you are with that, but it was kind of a big deal back in the day—Baptist vs. Catholic vs. Lutheran. You get the idea. Since there were maybe three rangers from each one—me and my brother Addison were the only Baptists—we kind of cobbled together a church of our own, and everybody brought their own songs, their own traditions." She smiled again. "I never knew what a beautiful holiday Hanukkah is before I met Rachel, but…" 

 

Autumn trailed off, remembering a menorah in a darkened window, laughter ringing through the main area as a dreidel spun. The pang of homesickness, which left her alone when she thought of her childhood home in Cottage Grove, pricked her. Maybe she could return someday. Rejoin their little church and maybe bring a few others along. 

 

You're needed here, she chided herself. "Well, anyway," she said, ending her foray into the past, "I came here after—" 

 

She had been about to say After Koschei died, but an all-too-familiar voice crackled over her radio. 

 

"A reminder from Daniel Dewhickey. Being invaded by weaponized pandas is not an excuse for forgetting established protocols. Nor is it an excuse for losing all sense of order and sanity. Thank you."

 

Arsenal. Complaining, as usual, about some nonexistent breach in protocol. Everything was a breach in protocol to that man. A pumpkin donut in her hand had once earned Autumn a lecture on the importance of displaying dignity and a "united front" to the troops. 

 

Not surprisingly, he had declined her offer of an extra donut. 

 

He's human, God loves him. Besides, if you could conjure tanks from thin air, would you be any less arrogant? 

 

It was a sobering thought, and enough to keep her from contradicting his orders over the radio. She might challenge them later, when the threat—weapons shaped like pandas, apparently? Epics sure came up with some crazy schemes—was dealt with and the city safe once more. When their competence, yet again, proved him wrong. 

 

With a smile, she returned her attention to Backtrack. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. You're from Portland, correct?" 

Edited November 11, 2014 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Kobold King he/him]

  

 

 

Autumn "Not an Epic" Glass was actually turning out to be quite a pleasant person. Granted, she probably didn't have much of a choice in the matter--unpleasant vanillas were generally weeded out in a "survival of the nicest" sort of manner.

 

Whether Autumn Glass was nice by nature or by natural selection was irrelevant, though. Backtrack savored the company of one of the few non-slontzes he'd met today.

 

They walked past lines of church offices, occasionally pausing to let squads of soldiers pass them in the cramped halls. And as they went, Autumn to her boss and Backtrack to the first of many painful deaths, Autumn described her past life as a minister.

 

It had been a while since Backtrack had seen the past through another's eyes. He listened with rapt interest as Autumn recounted her days at Mount Hood. She talked of parents and theology and denominations and Hanukkah, and Backtrack drank it all in. As a rule he'd never been very religious, but there was something compelling about the mental picture she painted--a warm, tight group of friends sheltering together from Calamity's ravages.

 

He wasn't quite sure why the thought appealed to him so much. Maybe it was because he was so accustomed to getting threatened and pushed around by tougher Epics. In any case, it was comforting to hear the woman's voice drone on about her old life. His own thoughts were too occupied wondering whether Koschei preferred the term "Your Excellency" or "Your Majesty" to offer much solace.

 

Too soon, Autumn's friendly speech was cut off by the crackling of the radio. A curt, dry voice like burning leaves cut through the static: "A reminder from Daniel Dewhickey. Being invaded by weaponized pandas is not an excuse for forgetting established protocols. Nor is it an excuse for losing all sense of order and sanity. Thank you."

 

Weaponized pandas? Backtrack thought blankly. Surely that must be code for something.

 

Before he could dig much deeper into the mystery of Daniel Dewhickey's irritable reminder, Autumn Glass turned back to him with a smile.

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ramble," she said, her cheeriness in stark contrast to the blaring sirens in the background. "You're from Portland, correct?" 

 

Backtrack shook his head nervously as they walked. "Uh, no. I just came to Portland yesterday. I was kind of unemployed, and you know, an unemployed Epic who can't defend himself is as good as a goner."

 

He gulped, unsure of whether to continue. On the one hand, he wasn't quite comfortable with detailing his life history with a complete stranger. On the other hand... well, the matter of what term of address Koschei would demand before slitting his throat was not a cheery subject.

 

"I grew up in San Francisco," he continued, slightly more boldly. "I didn't do anything of interest. When I was seventeen I started working at a 7-Eleven, and the job sort of stuck until, you know, the apocalypse happened.

 

"I didn't get my powers right away, and when I did... well, they're not really the kind of 'supernatural, god-among-men' kind of powers other Epics got. I can see the past. And mostly, the past is made up of a whole lot of idiots getting themselves killed over the course of history. It's slightly humbling, and all terrifying."

 

He sighed. "I had to skip town after I became an Epic. There were a lot of bigger Epics interested in San Fran, and not all of them were happy with a guy who could see their pasts. A lot of them seemed to think I might find their weaknesses, and they weren't too keen on letting me live long enough to do it. I've sort of spent the last few years drifting around the west coast doing odd jobs for guys tougher than me. A few weeks ago I started following a resurrection Epic named Thomas Cardinal--he prefers you call him Lightwards--and he ended up sending me here to get the dirt on someone. Then those soldiers dragged me here, and Reader shot me... but you know all that."

 

He paused for a moment before giving her a nervous look. "Uh... how far until we get to... 'til we get to your healer?"

Edited July 12, 2015 by Kobold King

[Seonid he/him]

 

Ranger ran. His moment of hesitation before, shock at seeing a sparking unicorn of all things, had nearly cost him his life. The beast was much too close to try pulling out either of his weapons, and his machete would be laughable before that shining horn. This would have been a good time to have been grateful for keeping up his high-school track conditioning. If, in fact, he had ever done that. The sound of hooves, already too close for comfort, grew even closer.

 

He tripped over an exposed root, tumbling to the ground. Rolling instinctively, he barely managed to make it out of the way before the razor-sharp hooves trampled the turf where he had been. The beast flashed past him, slowing slightly to turn in a wide circle, maneuvering around the scraggly pines with an almost effortless grace. It would only be a matter of seconds before it came back.

 

The air popped next to his ear, and he jumped. Guardian was there, giving him a disapproving scowl. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she spoke to quickly. "What the Calamity do you think you are doing, nearly getting yourself killed? You have no right to be..." She trailed off, eyes widening in shock. "Is that what I think it is?"

 

Gratified at her reaction, Ranger nodded. "Yep. but whoever described unicorns as nice never met this one. So, if you'd be so kind as to get us out of here before we experience how sharp that horn is first-hand, I'd be much obliged."

 

A moment later, the familiar walls of their appropriated apartment appeared around him. Paladin turned to meet him, his right arm ending in a bloody stump just below the elbow. The countertop was covered with blood. I didn't see that happen. Wonder how he lost it.

 

Quickly he filled both of them in on the car in the forest, and the belligerent man with the little girl that he had met there.

 

"The Dalles." Paladin's voice was thoughtful. "As it seems we are finished here, it might be a viable location for our next target."

 

"But what about Hammer? We're leaving an Epic behind!?" Guardian's voice trembled just a little, as if she were still in shock from the unicorn. Well, it hadn't been that traumatizing. They had both made it out with little trouble. He shook his head.

 

"He must be dead. Ringmaster was controlling the new Epic, the one that called himself Miner. He'd have had to get rid of one of the other Epics he controlled to make room for that, and Hammer is the only one accounted for. Besides, if he still had Hammer available, do you think he wouldn't have been there, waiting for us? No, this town is clean. We shall move on to cleanse the filth out of The Dalles." Paladin's eyes were strangely distant. He turned to Ranger again. "With my...injury, I won't be able to ride on my own. You'll have to carry me."

 

Sparks, I hadn't even thought of that. But it made sense. "Alright. Shall we leave in the morning? Give your arm a chance to heal up a little bit?"

 

"We leave now!" Paladin's voice had grown suddenly angry. "My arm will heal on its own time, and the dark gods move while we wait! get ready. We move out in ten minutes."

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Will watched quietly from his hiding place as the car stopped at the bend in the road in the growing twilight. It was still traversable, but the three miles or so of cracked and broken roadway was not something any driver would want to try in the dark. Which was why he had chosen this place for an ambush.

 

He smiled as he watched the occupants get out of the car, walking a little ways into the forest to set up camp. An older man and a small little girl. This would be fun.

Edited November 11, 2014 by Seonid

[Mailliw73 he/him]

As Edgerunner and Glamour neared HQ, they heard Arsenal's gruff voice over the radios, "Hostile forces reported on the city outskirts. Hostiles reported to possess an ursine appearance. Reported to be employing the strategic use of burning arrows; homes and businesses in northern sector aflame. All available personnel, report to the nearest command station. Epics move to the front line at city borders. Repeat: This is not a drill. The Dalles is under attack." Ursine? That meant bears, right? They were being attacked by bears? Edgerunner was confused. It had to be some type of Epic. Bears didn't assault cities. She decided to meet Arsenal at HQ before reporting to the front lines.

Soldiers scrambled about like madmen, some going into HQ, some leaving. Sirens blared throughout the city and for once, Edgerunner was jealous of Glamour's headphones. They sure would be nice to drown out the noise. She heard faint sounds of a film's battle score coming from the headset. She rolled her eyes and went into the courtyard.

She arrived right as Daniel created a large helicopter. Beginning with sleek lines in the air, they solidified into the real deal. A sleek helicopter with a machine gun, it even had The Dalles crest on the side. As Edgerunner was about to approach Arsenal, he spoke into the radio again, "A reminder from Daniel Dewhickey. Being invaded by weaponized pandas is not an excuse for forgetting established protocols. Nor is it an excuse for losing all sense of order and sanity. Thank you." Edgerunner couldn't decide whether to smile or scowl. Arsenal had a gruff, direct way of dealing with things that she enjoyed, but, sparks, he was strict. He confiscated anything that had a slight modicum of fun.

She and Glamour pushed past soldiers, heading straight for Daniel. He saw them and addressed them first. "I suppose you're wondering what's going on," he said in his gruff voice. "I want to know what you learned at Command Post Tango. You brief me and I'll brief you." Direct. Brief. Just like Arsenal.

Edgerunner nodded curtly and informed him of the messenger with metal caps for hands. She relayed his message of Quicksilver's anger. "It was a message, he said. Everyone else in the building was slaughtered," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She controlled it and continued, "Now, what's this about pandas?" Daniel watched her as she shared her message, his thick, angry eyebrows wrinkling in distaste for Quicksilver. Glamour had nothing to add and just looked around at the panicked soldiers as she spoke.

Frequency had found his old apartment in a more rundown part of the Dalles. For the most part, the area was empty when he had arrived. Now it was permanently empty. The rundown environment didn't bother Frequency too much. It gave him his privacy. He did decide to force one of the women in the area to scrub his apartment clean before killing her and her daughter.

He relaxed and listened to the radio frequencies in the area, enjoying a nice rest from attacking soldiers. Suddenly, a gravelly voice burst out on the radio, "Hostile forces reported on the city outskirts. Hostiles reported to possess an ursine appearance. Reported to be employing the strategic use of burning arrows; homes and businesses in northern sector aflame. All available personnel, report to the nearest command station. Epics move to the front line at city borders. Repeat: This is not a drill. The Dalles is under attack." Hmm, the Dalles was being assaulted by bears? Frequency smiled.

He decided to take a look at this attack, when he heard a report of armed pandas. This new Epic certainly did have style. An army of pandas with guns would be sure to confuse any normal soldier. If Frequency wasn't here to reclaim the Deathless One's city, he'd be tempted to work with this Panda Man.

Frequency headed to the roof of the building, ready to whistle any threats to pieces. Nothing happened. Everyone below was rushing to the northern part of the city, which was up in flames. Definitely a stylish Epic they were dealing with here. This Panda could be the key to reclaiming this city. Frequency lacked the numbers to assault the city completely. This Panda had many under his rule. Maybe they could work together.