Question 6

[Edgedancer]

That would make sense. Consider it Ascended Fanon Fanon.   

 

As for Prof and Regalia keeping their powers: Rule of Cool triumphs over mirrorverse logic every time. Though if it makes you feel better, the High Epic Cookiecutter rules the city of Mizzitopia. She still dots the 'i's of official documents with little hearts.

Seems like the corruption of the dark side was to strong for her. They have cookies afterall. I have to immagine her dressed like this now.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

Seems like the corruption of the dark side was to strong for her. They have cookies afterall. I have to immagine her dressed like this now.

I hate you sooooo much, Quota....

[Voidus]

Seems like the corruption of the dark side was to strong for her. They have cookies afterall. I have to immagine her dressed like this now.

Where did you get this photo!? The Dark Alley hasn't released photographs of our...

I mean, how interesting what an obscure thing that I've never seen before ever. 

[Kobold King]

In the meta mirrorverse's version of "What Happened in Oregon," the RP is led by the grumpy TwiLyghtPlusSparkles, who rigidly railroads all of the other players and sullenly shoots down any attempts at shipping, fanon, or awesomeness.

 

It's been occasionally pointed out that she and her mirrorverse equivalent seem to have the wrong names, since the awesome, fun, and well-loved TwiLyght is Sans Sparkles while the grumpy one is Plus Sparles. TwiLyghtPlusSparkles fiercely downvotes all of these reasonable observations.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

In the meta mirrorverse's version of "What Happened in Oregon," the RP is led by the grumpy TwiLyghtPlusSparkles, who rigidly railroads all of the other players and sullenly shoots down any attempts at shipping, fanon, or awesomeness.

It's been occasionally pointed out that she and her mirrorverse equivalent seem to have the wrong names, since the awesome, fun, and well-loved TwiLyght is Sans Sparkles while the grumpy one is Plus Sparles. TwiLyghtPlusSparkles fiercely downvotes all of these reasonable observations.

While TwiLyghtSansSparkles wishes she could downvote Quota himself.

[Voidus]

In the meta mirrorverse's version of "What Happened in Oregon," the RP is led by the grumpy TwiLyghtPlusSparkles, who rigidly railroads all of the other players and sullenly shoots down any attempts at shipping, fanon, or awesomeness.

 

It's been occasionally pointed out that she and her mirrorverse equivalent seem to have the wrong names, since the awesome, fun, and well-loved TwiLyght is Sans Sparkles while the grumpy one is Plus Sparles. TwiLyghtPlusSparkles fiercely downvotes all of these reasonable observations.

And poor Kobold Pauper has the lowest reputation of all RPers.

[Edgedancer]

In the meta mirrorverse's version of "What Happened in Oregon," the RP is led by the grumpy TwiLyghtPlusSparkles, who rigidly railroads all of the other players and sullenly shoots down any attempts at shipping, fanon, or awesomeness.

 

It's been occasionally pointed out that she and her mirrorverse equivalent seem to have the wrong names, since the awesome, fun, and well-loved TwiLyght is Sans Sparkles while the grumpy one is Plus Sparles. TwiLyghtPlusSparkles fiercely downvotes all of these reasonable observations.

Don´t even get me started on that Edgedanger guy. Can´t even stay consistent in a singular paragraph.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

Don´t even get me started on that Edgedanger guy. Can´t even stay consistent in a singular paragraph.

Mirrorverse Voidus has trouble thinking of a single Epic, let alone dozens.

[Voidus]

Don´t even get me started on that Edgedanger guy. Can´t even stay consistent in a singular paragraph.

But redeemingly he did at least create the nicest character in the RP, whom everyone joyously pronounces will live forever.

[Kobold King]

Mirrorverse Voidus has trouble thinking of a single Epic, let alone dozens.

 

On the plus side, in the Social Guilds section he runs the Bright Alley, said to be the loveliest and most peaceful of all 17th Shard factions. Newcomers to the forum are constantly advised to visit the Bright Alley, whose cookies are so sweet and healthy that tasting them even for an instant is said to be like tasting life itself.

[Voidus]

Mail-you's character Spaceport is regarded as one of the RPs most stable and compassionate characters.

[Kobold King]

The entire forum is a hate site dedicated against Brendan Senderson, widely regarded as a talentless hack who couldn't put two words together.

[Edgedancer]

The entire forum is a hate site dedicated against Brendan Senderson, widely regarded as a talentless hack who couldn't put two words together.

Instead they rallied behind the writter Potren Senfather, who writes high quality novels, even if even one takes him years.

[Seonid]

One of the longest-running forum members (although doomed to obscurity, despite his best efforts) is Dineos, who is known for rampantly plagiarizing other authors work and presenting it as his own worldbuilding. His latest attempt to co-opt a particularly spectacular setting posted elsewhere on the forum led to massive criticism based on his elementary misunderstanding of even basic physics.

[Voidus]

And of course the Answers RP planning thread is one of the least used in the forum, having one of the lowest page counts.

[Kobold King]

There exists on the forum multiple roleplays based around members' original settings; none are at all thought through and all are shamelessly derivative.

 

In one particularly heinous setting created by Ms. Voidus, Kobold Pauper has designed what is widely known as the least interesting fantasy race ever created. Called the "chiskreven," the creatures are utterly identical to humans in every way, save for bright patches of feathers around their arms. They are all tall, muscular, and blonde, who run around a jungle wearing loin cloths. For reasons that Kobold Pauper has consistently failed to explain, they are capable of flight, super strength, teleportation, and laser vision.

 

(Kobold Pauper also has a limitless upvote quota, unlike his royal counterpart who's unable to upvote any of the fantastic mirrorverse posts in his verse's version of the Answers thread.  )

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles]

There exists on the forum multiple roleplays based around members' original settings; none are at all thought through and all are shamelessly derivative.

In one particularly heinous setting created by Ms. Voidus, Kobold Pauper has designed what is widely known as the least interesting fantasy race ever created. Called the "chiskreven," the creatures are utterly identical to humans in every way, save for bright patches of feathers around their arms. They are all tall, muscular, and blonde, who run around a jungle wearing loin cloths. For reasons that Kobold Pauper has consistently failed to explain, they are capable of flight, super strength, teleportation, and laser vision.

(Kobold Pauper also has a limitless upvote quota, unlike his royal counterpart who's unable to upvote any of the fantastic mirrorverse posts in his verse's version of the Answers thread. )

Please don't tell me I'm the only one who would read a wacky, Hitchhiker's Guide sort of story about that race.

[the winter system]

AU Characters

Amber-

Amber tapped her foot against the ground. It was getting dull waiting around.

"Do you need anything, my lady?" A vanilla asked her. Amber snapped around. Finally something to do. Molten tree sap flew out of her hands and landed on a thin layer all around the vanilla. Should have known better than to risk her anger, anyway. His fault. The vanilla was screaming at the pain.

"That must hurt." Amber smiled wickedly. She forced the sap to dry. The vanilla was frozen in place with amber. That was where Amber got her name from, after all. A spray of bullets erupted from a building. Amber sighed in relief. It had been too long a wait. The bullets transformed into amber and froze in the air. Amber sent them back in the direction they had came from. Then the teenager dropped into the street. Amber saw her and laughed. The infamous Reckoners send a teenager after her. Then Amber saw her face and gasped. "No. No... I killed you." Cassie, the famous Reckoner spy who had made so many mysterious escapes from the grasps of Epics-Epics like Amber-that they called her Mist...mist something. Amber had assumed she'd killed the girl years back when she had her in her power. Apparently the spy'd survived. Somehow.

"Yeah, Amber. You almost did. I survived. You see, I know something about you." She smirked. "You're too arrogant. Should've finished the job yourself. I survived. Whenever an Epic nearly kills me, I make it my buisness to know everything about them."

"You didn't." Amber felt a seed of doubt. No, she couldn't know. They couldn't know. Another round of sniper fire. Amber froze those in amber and they fell to the ground. Amber sent tendrils of amber after Cassie. She pulled a gun out. Cassie shot. The bullet hit the tendril and it melted to the ground. Amber stepped back. What was so special about that gun? Amber had laid a trap for the Reckoners but she was the one caught.

"Arrogant slontze." Cassie added, aiming the gun straight at her. Amber raised amber walls but the bullet passed through them. And everything went black.

Red-

Bianca Crimson sat in a chair swirling her drink. There was ice in it, a rare Post-Calamity luxary. But luxary could be expected for the rich sponsor of the Knighthawk Foundary. Bianca wasn't an Epic. They were all high and mighty, but they relied too much on their abilities to get them out of a quick fix. Bianca was a smart. Pre-Calamity Bianca had passed every test with flying colors. Post-Calamity Bianca had risen to become one of the wealthiest vanillas in North America.

Mistwraith IS Cassie, that was her name before she became an Epic.

Will do more on AltUni Red.

[Mailliw73]

Posts that involve 50-dollar bills are All-Bens (sorry, American currency reference)

  

?..shouldn't that be 100 dollar bills?

Mostly just added this for some backstory but when I added that last shadow Epic to the MEE lineup I decided to bunch a few of my darkness and shadow Epics together into a group which once or possibly presently exists/ed somewhere... I'm still working on details.

 

League of Shadows:Shadowstep: Shadow merging passive ability, merges into any shadows he comes into contact with, allowing instant travel across a shadow or seeming invisibility while hiding in the shadow. Former member, currently in the MEE.

Flicker: Can teleport only while in shadows, can also produce an EMP which temporarily shorts out electronics.

Nightshade: Can ‘pull’ an object or beings shadow from the ground causing it to become a 3 dimensional object capable of everything the possessor of the shadow is capable of (Excluding Epic abilities), living shadows will obey orders given by Nightshade

Midnight Tears: Can suck all light from a room, becomes completely intangible when in darkness however can solidify parts of his body at will however any parts of his body that become solid while still in darkness slowly exude a thick black liquid. Typically gouges out his victims eyes to kill them, leaving his signature ‘black tears’ on the corpse.

DarkQuake: Can cause any shadows to become a solid surface and also capable of sending ripples or vibrations through that surface.

Twilight spark: Technically an energy Epic however his energy constructs draw in light from around them, capable of creating replicas of living beings which can act with a degree of free will but will obey any of his mental commands.

Eclipse: Illusionist who creates a bright halo around himself, but shrouds his body itself in darkness. The halo is bright enough to blind anyone looking directly at it.

And yes I did completely rip the name off from Batman because I am terrible at naming things

And now the obligatory:

Posts involving Bloody Mary are All-Reds

 

So, Half-Light was never part of that? 

My Internet connection keeps dying today, and I wrote this earlier when I couldn't connect to the forum.

 

Remember the mirrorverse we've discussed before?

 

That's what this is. Vanillas are Epics and Epics are vanillas. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

Milton had grown up in Portland. It wasn't easy to see its current position.

 

He navigated in between the crumbling homes and burned out shops, occasionally passing the rings of black roses that marked old graves. Over the past few years the city had slipped into a sorrier and sorrier state; the population was a scarce decimal of what it once boasted. Some of the citizens had fled to relative utopias like Astoria. Most had only found their way to cold graves with nothing but Darkrose's flowers to mark their passing.

 

It was different, once, Milton thought with frustration. This isn't the city where I grew up.

 

But it was. In the week since he'd come back from The Dalles, he'd seen the ruins. He recognized the burnt out skyline. He'd seen the ruins of his old high school, long since fallen into disrepair. He'd talked to surviving friends about the friends that didn't survive his absence. Frank. Rita. Joe. Normal men and women who'd crossed the tyrants who ruled this city.

 

His pondering of days gone by was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. Milton quickly fished out his mobile and held it to his face in response.

 

"We sent you on patrol an hour ago," Cormac's voice stated over the phone. "Is everything all right?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Milton replied, glancing around the deserted city street. "Just struck with a bit of nostalgia, I suppose."

 

"Well when you're done strolling down memory lane--or what's left of it, anyway--come on back to base. Thomas found out there's a MUSEUM here, God bless him, and I don't intend to be the only one hearing him go on about it."

 

"I'll be there," Milton said, grinning at the other man's discomfort. Cormac and the former professor never quite got along. To be fair, Thomas wasn't always the easiest man to get along with, but Milton always found his impromptu lectures interesting. It was like being back at school again, but without the bullies. And Thomas' theories about a primordial microraptor civilization lost to science were, if not conventional, at least entertaining.

 

Taking another look around at the city of his birth, Milton headed back to base.

 

If there was a way of reclaiming the Portland of his childhood, it lay with the Reckoners. And fortunately, he was a member.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Do I look amused, little Epic?"

 

The court was silent around the two Epics, servants vacating the room as their betters spoke. The Dalles' Epic stood resolutely before the throne, arms folded across her chest and her mouth curled into a sneer. The Epic known as Glass was a woman of average height, her face spotted with freckles and her dull red hair allowed to flow freely around her shoulders. She wore a thin green dress that showed far more bosom than a minister or a ranger should ever show. But then, Glass hadn't been either in years.

 

The throne itself was occupied by Darkrose. Newcomers to Portland were often surprised by her appearance. No older than seventeen, she was the youngest Epic to have carved out her own city-state. She cultivated a gothic appearance; she wore an ebony blouse now, with a pitch black miniskirt and tight leggings somewhere between violet and the color of blood. Since her awakening as a goddess, she'd further decorated her body with thorny tattoos up her bare arms and diamond earrings dangling from her lobes.

 

Today it felt like her hard-fought reputation had been stripped away, killed and withered under Glass's knowing stare.

 

Concealing her shimmering rage, Darkrose repeated herself. "I asked you a question, little Epic," she said haughtily. "Do you think I am amused? Do you think I find your claims and your disrespect funny? If so, let me be the first to tell you that you're on a one-way trip to a bed of roses." She gestured at the rings of black flowers that surrounded her throne in emphasis.

 

Glass seemed unfazed. "I know better than to make light of you, Samantha," she replied coolly. "I know what you've done to get where you are now. I know everything."

 

She plucked a black rose out of the ground, sniffing it before discarding it over her shoulder.

 

Darkrose gritted her teeth as she contemplated killing the arrogant Epic. There were those who said that the name 'Glass' referred to how she saw through the facades of others; how a person's face was transparent as glass to her. Glass had what seemed to be a unique Epic ability; at a glance, she could learn the entire history of a human being. Every thought. Every action. Every intention. She could somehow read Epics and vanillas like books, using the knowledge she gleaned to taunt them--and in the case of Epics, to topple them.

 

"You will use the name I have chosen for myself," Darkrose proclaimed, her temper flaring, "Or you will not use any name ever again. Is that clear?"

 

"Perfectly so," Glass answered with a smile. "But I will repeat, Darkrose: I have told no jests or lies in your presence. Springfield has indeed come to Portland, and a trail of Reckoners behind him."

 

"He has a procession of unicorns too, I take it?" Darkrose asked sarcastically. "Maybe a few bouncing leprechauns as his rear guard? You try to intimidate me with specters and bogeymen. Springfield is just another Epic, and the Reckoners are myths."

 

"Ah, contraire," the ginger Epic corrected. "The Reckoners are very real. I've seen them myself."

 

"And I suppose I should just take your word for it?" Darkrose remarked, doubt dripping from her voice.

 

"Take anyone's word for it," Glass smiled. "Everyone in The Dalles saw their attempted hit on Springfield. Everyone in The Dalles saw the leader of their cell as Springfield shot the brains out of him. Say the name 'Viktor Dyachenko,' and men, women and children will affirm who he was. He was the leader of a Reckoners cell, and when he died for his crimes, his cell followed Springfield here to avenge him."

 

Darkrose scowled at Glass skeptically, but finally nodded. "Supposing you speak the truth, then what do I have to fear? They can't hurt me."

 

"Bullets bounce off your skin," Glass affirmed. "You can swallow poisons without a moment's discomfort. An explosion can ruin your pretty clothes but it can't put a scratch on your body." Glass beamed and leaned slightly forward towards the throne.

 

"But the Reckoners find weaknesses. Somewhere in your past is the thing that will make your hard skin as soft and penetrable as any teenage girl's. It might be in with your father. Might be with your sister. Might be with your mother's bakery. You did a wonderful job of destroying everything from your past, but if you draw their attention, they will destroy you."

 

Glass turned her back on the throne, clasping her hands behind you. "Of course, I could help you."

 

"How?" Darkrose hissed. "Why should I not kill you for what you know, and face the Reckoners on my own? Am I supposed to think you're somehow better at fighting assassins then I am?"

 

"You are," affirmed Glass cheerfully. "Because I am. I can stand by your side. I can read everyone before they come into your presence. I can read the nefarious intentions of any Reckoner that comes near you. I can keep you alive."

 

Darkrose scowled long and hard at the red-haired Epic. She knew an infuriating amount of detail about her past--a past she'd worked hard to obscure. She'd killed her father, and her mother, and her sister. She'd burned that old bakery to the ground. Why should she let the one person who could dredge it all back up walk away from her alive?

 

Because, a grudging part of her acknowledged, she might not be the only one who can dredge it up.

 

"What would you ask in return?" Darkrose said slowly.

 

"Nothing you can't spare," Glass beamed in return. "An office. A window with a view. Maybe even a case of nice wine from time to time."

 

After a moment of thought, Darkrose nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

 

Her eyes narrowed, Darkrose stood up from her throne and strode towards the other Epic. Glass was the taller of the two, but Darkrose had spent much time learning the art of intimidation.

 

"If you let but a single assassin by," she whispered with menace. "If but a single one of your magical Reckoners gets through your reading--or if you call me Samantha one more time..."

 

A dim-witted server had entered the courtroom. Darkrose decided to use him as an example. She raised a ringed hand, which began slowly pulsating with dark energy. Instantly the server began coughing and spasming behind her, falling the ground and shaking as if taken by epilepsy.

 

In just five seconds, the man lay still. A ring of black roses, an odd quirk of her lethal ability, sprung up around him, joining the ever-growing field of flowers around the Darkrose throne.

 

Glass got the message, giving a curtsy and a smile.

 

"My garden grows daily," Darkrose intoned. "The rules for for not being fertilizer are simple: don't be a slontze. Think you can handle it?"

 

"I think I can," Glass affirmed.

 

"Good," the girl once known as Sam Trattner said with a faint grin. "Then I welcome you to the Dominion."

That was awesome, but scary. I have a feeling that Darkrose is hunting down Milton for beating her in some kind of test.

[Kobold King]

That was awesome, but scary. I have a feeling that Darkrose is hunting down Milton for beating her in some kind of test.

 

That is quite conceivably the case.

 

Just because I can, here's a Darkrose pony.

 

 

 

She's angry as a figurative statement about how even though she's invincible and can kill with a stare, Darkrose is a far more miserable character than Samantha Trattner... aww heck, I just think the Sam pony looks cute when she's angry. And when she's happy. She pretty much just looks cute in general.

[Kobold King]

Double post answering the question that no one asked: Yes, Sam would make fun of Darkrose.

 

[mail-mi]

 

My Internet connection keeps dying today, and I wrote this earlier when I couldn't connect to the forum.

 

Remember the mirrorverse we've discussed before?

 

That's what this is. Vanillas are Epics and Epics are vanillas. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

Milton had grown up in Portland. It wasn't easy to see its current position.

 

He navigated in between the crumbling homes and burned out shops, occasionally passing the rings of black roses that marked old graves. Over the past few years the city had slipped into a sorrier and sorrier state; the population was a scarce decimal of what it once boasted. Some of the citizens had fled to relative utopias like Astoria. Most had only found their way to cold graves with nothing but Darkrose's flowers to mark their passing.

 

It was different, once, Milton thought with frustration. This isn't the city where I grew up.

 

But it was. In the week since he'd come back from The Dalles, he'd seen the ruins. He recognized the burnt out skyline. He'd seen the ruins of his old high school, long since fallen into disrepair. He'd talked to surviving friends about the friends that didn't survive his absence. Frank. Rita. Joe. Normal men and women who'd crossed the tyrants who ruled this city.

 

His pondering of days gone by was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. Milton quickly fished out his mobile and held it to his face in response.

 

"We sent you on patrol an hour ago," Cormac's voice stated over the phone. "Is everything all right?"

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Milton replied, glancing around the deserted city street. "Just struck with a bit of nostalgia, I suppose."

 

"Well when you're done strolling down memory lane--or what's left of it, anyway--come on back to base. Thomas found out there's a MUSEUM here, God bless him, and I don't intend to be the only one hearing him go on about it."

 

"I'll be there," Milton said, grinning at the other man's discomfort. Cormac and the former professor never quite got along. To be fair, Thomas wasn't always the easiest man to get along with, but Milton always found his impromptu lectures interesting. It was like being back at school again, but without the bullies. And Thomas' theories about a primordial microraptor civilization lost to science were, if not conventional, at least entertaining.

 

Taking another look around at the city of his birth, Milton headed back to base.

 

If there was a way of reclaiming the Portland of his childhood, it lay with the Reckoners. And fortunately, he was a member.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Do I look amused, little Epic?"

 

The court was silent around the two Epics, servants vacating the room as their betters spoke. The Dalles' Epic stood resolutely before the throne, arms folded across her chest and her mouth curled into a sneer. The Epic known as Glass was a woman of average height, her face spotted with freckles and her dull red hair allowed to flow freely around her shoulders. She wore a thin green dress that showed far more bosom than a minister or a ranger should ever show. But then, Glass hadn't been either in years.

 

The throne itself was occupied by Darkrose. Newcomers to Portland were often surprised by her appearance. No older than seventeen, she was the youngest Epic to have carved out her own city-state. She cultivated a gothic appearance; she wore an ebony blouse now, with a pitch black miniskirt and tight leggings somewhere between violet and the color of blood. Since her awakening as a goddess, she'd further decorated her body with thorny tattoos up her bare arms and diamond earrings dangling from her lobes.

 

Today it felt like her hard-fought reputation had been stripped away, killed and withered under Glass's knowing stare.

 

Concealing her shimmering rage, Darkrose repeated herself. "I asked you a question, little Epic," she said haughtily. "Do you think I am amused? Do you think I find your claims and your disrespect funny? If so, let me be the first to tell you that you're on a one-way trip to a bed of roses." She gestured at the rings of black flowers that surrounded her throne in emphasis.

 

Glass seemed unfazed. "I know better than to make light of you, Samantha," she replied coolly. "I know what you've done to get where you are now. I know everything."

 

She plucked a black rose out of the ground, sniffing it before discarding it over her shoulder.

 

Darkrose gritted her teeth as she contemplated killing the arrogant Epic. There were those who said that the name 'Glass' referred to how she saw through the facades of others; how a person's face was transparent as glass to her. Glass had what seemed to be a unique Epic ability; at a glance, she could learn the entire history of a human being. Every thought. Every action. Every intention. She could somehow read Epics and vanillas like books, using the knowledge she gleaned to taunt them--and in the case of Epics, to topple them.

 

"You will use the name I have chosen for myself," Darkrose proclaimed, her temper flaring, "Or you will not use any name ever again. Is that clear?"

 

"Perfectly so," Glass answered with a smile. "But I will repeat, Darkrose: I have told no jests or lies in your presence. Springfield has indeed come to Portland, and a trail of Reckoners behind him."

 

"He has a procession of unicorns too, I take it?" Darkrose asked sarcastically. "Maybe a few bouncing leprechauns as his rear guard? You try to intimidate me with specters and bogeymen. Springfield is just another Epic, and the Reckoners are myths."

 

"Ah, contraire," the ginger Epic corrected. "The Reckoners are very real. I've seen them myself."

 

"And I suppose I should just take your word for it?" Darkrose remarked, doubt dripping from her voice.

 

"Take anyone's word for it," Glass smiled. "Everyone in The Dalles saw their attempted hit on Springfield. Everyone in The Dalles saw the leader of their cell as Springfield shot the brains out of him. Say the name 'Viktor Dyachenko,' and men, women and children will affirm who he was. He was the leader of a Reckoners cell, and when he died for his crimes, his cell followed Springfield here to avenge him."

 

Darkrose scowled at Glass skeptically, but finally nodded. "Supposing you speak the truth, then what do I have to fear? They can't hurt me."

 

"Bullets bounce off your skin," Glass affirmed. "You can swallow poisons without a moment's discomfort. An explosion can ruin your pretty clothes but it can't put a scratch on your body." Glass beamed and leaned slightly forward towards the throne.

 

"But the Reckoners find weaknesses. Somewhere in your past is the thing that will make your hard skin as soft and penetrable as any teenage girl's. It might be in with your father. Might be with your sister. Might be with your mother's bakery. You did a wonderful job of destroying everything from your past, but if you draw their attention, they will destroy you."

 

Glass turned her back on the throne, clasping her hands behind you. "Of course, I could help you."

 

"How?" Darkrose hissed. "Why should I not kill you for what you know, and face the Reckoners on my own? Am I supposed to think you're somehow better at fighting assassins then I am?"

 

"You are," affirmed Glass cheerfully. "Because I am. I can stand by your side. I can read everyone before they come into your presence. I can read the nefarious intentions of any Reckoner that comes near you. I can keep you alive."

 

Darkrose scowled long and hard at the red-haired Epic. She knew an infuriating amount of detail about her past--a past she'd worked hard to obscure. She'd killed her father, and her mother, and her sister. She'd burned that old bakery to the ground. Why should she let the one person who could dredge it all back up walk away from her alive?

 

Because, a grudging part of her acknowledged, she might not be the only one who can dredge it up.

 

"What would you ask in return?" Darkrose said slowly.

 

"Nothing you can't spare," Glass beamed in return. "An office. A window with a view. Maybe even a case of nice wine from time to time."

 

After a moment of thought, Darkrose nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

 

Her eyes narrowed, Darkrose stood up from her throne and strode towards the other Epic. Glass was the taller of the two, but Darkrose had spent much time learning the art of intimidation.

 

"If you let but a single assassin by," she whispered with menace. "If but a single one of your magical Reckoners gets through your reading--or if you call me Samantha one more time..."

 

A dim-witted server had entered the courtroom. Darkrose decided to use him as an example. She raised a ringed hand, which began slowly pulsating with dark energy. Instantly the server began coughing and spasming behind her, falling the ground and shaking as if taken by epilepsy.

 

In just five seconds, the man lay still. A ring of black roses, an odd quirk of her lethal ability, sprung up around him, joining the ever-growing field of flowers around the Darkrose throne.

 

Glass got the message, giving a curtsy and a smile.

 

"My garden grows daily," Darkrose intoned. "The rules for for not being fertilizer are simple: don't be a slontze. Think you can handle it?"

 

"I think I can," Glass affirmed.

 

"Good," the girl once known as Sam Trattner said with a faint grin. "Then I welcome you to the Dominion."

 

 

 

That was awesome. Mirrorverse Reader is a levelheaded vanilla that Glass drags around with her. Reader can't see why she does it, but it's because Glass has a secret crush on him

Mirrorverse Voidus has trouble thinking of a single Epic, let alone dozens.

 

Wouldn't Mirrorverse Voidus be Voidthem?

Mail-you's character Spaceport is regarded as one of the RPs most stable and compassionate characters.

 

He even remained stable through an episode he doesn't like talking about, when a thirteen year old Epic dressed in white robes that went by the name of Angel brutally murdered his whole family. 

[mail-mi]

Double post because phone: I'm very glad to see that Angel's intro is now my third most upvoted post.

...behind Timeport and Reader. I've got some work to do

Edited February 7, 2015 by mail-mi

[Kobold King]

Double post because phone: I'm very glad to see that Angel's intro is now my third most upvoted post.

...behind Timeport and Reader. I've got some work to do

 

Upvotes are mysterious things, especially on this board. I'm beginning to agree with TwiLyght's assertion that the monkey that picks Returned names is the only one with real voting power.

 

Case in point: the first posts in What Happened in Portland and What Happened in The Dalles still aren't popular posts. How could this be? They're among the best-written on the forum, and are the easiest to find of all RP posts.

[Mailliw73]

Flashpoint/Summoner post up. The MEE attack can continue.