What Happened In Astoria

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

“Land Ho!”

 

Blackwave cracked his eyes open, then rolled out of his bed, landing in a crouch on the wooden floor. He grabbed his pants off his desk, pulling them on as he scowled at his bed. He’d have to get it cleaned again. He grabbed his sword and the now empty canteen, hooking them onto his belt.

 

He kicked down the door to his and walked onto the main deck. using his barefoot he tapped the door, restoring it to how it had been before he decided to leave. He strode to the Port side, shoving the new crewmember out of his way, and looked over the Railing.

 

Long Beach was on the Horizon. It was hard to see since the sun was just dipping behind the horizon at his back, but he could tell it was a smaller city, probably wouldn’t have much Loot or even resistance. But it did have an information broker. Hopefully he would have information on Astoria and Bloody Mary. He didn’t want to enter the city blind, like he did Hong Kong. He didn’t want to end up piloting the Tidebreaker with only a skeleton crew again.

 

There was a creak of wood from behind, and he scowled. Calico again. “What do you want?”

 

“Well Captain, I just wanted permission to enter the city. The men are getting Eager.” Calico joined him at the railing, leaning his back against it,still watching the deck.

 

Blackwave thought about it. Usually the would flood the city as they entered it, but this time they needed to get information, not loot. “No, just get us into the port, and we’ll wait for Dragon to contact us.”

 

“Dragoon.”

 

“What?”

 

Calico sighed, and turned to face him fully. “It’s Dragoon sir, not dragon. We’re trying to contact Dragoon for information.”

 

“Just get us to the port. and while you’re at it, send someone to clean my cabin again.”

 

Calico Harry smirked. “She didn’t even last for a full day? She wasn’t good enough or something?”

 

“She had a very shiny knife, and an aptitude for it as well. I don’t enjoy getting stabbed there.”

 

The quartermaster hesitated at that. Calico was supposed to make sure the slaves were searched before they entered Blackwave’s room. the fact that this bedwarmer had a knife meant that she was either a plant, or someone didn’t do their job correctly. “I, will see to it sir.” Straight to the point this time. He knew he’d messed up.

 

He pushed himself off the railing, then paused. “Captain, the new recruit, what’s ‘is name, wants to know if there’s a mirror on board. Says he wants to see what his eye looks like.”

 

Blackwave ignored the remark. Calico knew what to do about that, though the whole lack of mirrors tended to confuse Harry, and the rest of the crew. “Just get us to the port Harry.”

 

The man nodded, and hurried off.

Blackwave leaned out over the railing, and stretched his arm downwards. The ocean rose up to meet him. Some of the water poured into his canteen, refilling it from when the woman had spilled it. The rest of it wrapped around the ship, pushing it forward as the winds picked up. They sped towards Longbeach, and Blackwave grinned at the sight of it.

What would the people think, seeing a massive pirate ship pulling to the bay, followed by a tidal wave? If past cities were any indication, they would flee in terror. It really was unfortunate he couldn’t let the wave hit the city this time. He needed Dragoon intact, and he didn’t know where the man was in the city. Hopefully, he would see the ship, and send someone to contact him.

[+Slowswift]

 

Can't move.

 

How. Dare. They.

 

Can't move.

 

Who did these people think they were, with their "holier than thou" attitudes?

 

Can't move.

 

Oh, what he wouldn't do to them once he was free, whether or not he actually could do anything.

 

Can't move.

 

Calm down. Deep breath. Don't blow it; stay calm. All things good to those who wait...

 

Still. Can't. Move.

 

He sat fuming for a while, doing his best to rein in the urge to explode. It wasn't that he was trying to be a good person and not kill people. Oh no, he wanted these Epic dead and he wanted it now. But killing everyone in sight didn't seem to be a terribly efficient way to conquer a city. He wanted -- needed -- people to rule over.

 

 

 

Free.

 

Finally able to move, Timelock froze time and zipped back to the hotel.

 

~~~

 

Timelock stood perched atop the bridge, looking out over the city. He had come up here after delivering his findings to the other Epics, using his enhanced dexterity to make a climb that would've daunted lesser beings.

 

He had arrived at the hotel scarcely a second after leaving the Epics, or so it appeared. In reality, Timelock had taken his sweet time, thinking about the newcomers.

 

Gravitas and the other Epics had seemed troubled by the news. After a quick good-bye, the group had gone their separate ways. 

 

Now, on top of a bridge in the cool night air, Timelock was putting his full brainpower into scheming.

Edited May 24, 2015 by Slowswift

[Edgedancer he/him]

A cryptic a few was the only response Bioterror gave the Metal.

 

Have to give it to him; he knows how to sell himself.

 

He could tell that the newestcomer had already run away again, just as fast as he had arrived. He’d probably not taken well to being sidelined. Some poor sobs just had a much bigger ego than fit unto their shoulders.  Like those that expected to be paid attention after interrupting a conversation lead by the most powerful Epic in town. Especially, if there was nothing he could do to keep the Metal from just keeping him in space.

 

Anyway, one Epic less he had to deal with. Now, what to do with the two still here?

 

“Alright you two,” he addressed Sunshine and Bioterror, “I am not exactly the one that manages our personal. However, I will tell him about you. Given how late it is already he’ll probably summon you for an interview tomorrow.”

 

Deathgale would be the one to decide what to do with them.  From what he has seen of him Bioterror should be able to deal well with him well enough. The few tricks he apparently still has left would certainly end up as a topic. Secrecy against Lucentia isn’t exactly something he’s fond of or the wrong kind of backbone for that matter.

 

Sunshine… at least he won’t cut her up on their first encounter.

[Sirce Luckwielder he/him]

 

Dragoon sat in an massive chair, it's size almost more of a couch. It was covered in layers of pillows and fine silks, making it a fine piece. With a flick of his hand, a servant girl rushed over, carrying a plate full of sweets.

He pulled off his glove, not wanting to get it dirty with the food before him. It was, after all, leather imported from Italy. He forced the girl to wait a moment as he gazed at his hand. As a youth, he had once used his hands for work, scraping by a living after his parents had abandoned him at age nine. He had become mixed up with the local crime ring, the Black Wolves, and had worked as a messenger/tough until he had been about thirty. With the arrival of Calamity, he had gone from barely more then a walking brick to the leader of the Cavalry, the new crime ring he had set up in the stead of the Black Wolves. Now, looking at the hand, he felt pride. Where he had once had a muscled, and callused hand, he now had the hands of a successful man. Almost gone were the calluses, the scars would stay forever, but had faded a bit. The hand was soft, no longer accustomed to work. It had a little fat on it, but he prefered that to the layers of muscle he had previously had. Besides, he was successful, he had the right, no the duty to splurg. Now that he was an Epic, he didn't need to do work. People scrambled and begged to serve him. After the many years of work, he deserved it.

Lifting his hand, he picked up a sweet and placed it into his waiting mouth. Ah. The delicacies one could enjoy through power!

As he reached his hand out for another sweet, the door swung open, revealing one of his Horsemen. Dragoon hastily plopped the chocolate in his mouth, then hurredly pulled on his glove. Prescience stood respectfully against the wall, waiting for his master to allow him to proceed. Even though he had powers of Epic proportion, Prescience was still only a human, one of four mortal men that Dragoon had Gifted powers to. Once the glove was replaced, Dragoon waved him into the room.

"Sir," he said, inclining his head into an almost-bow, "the pirate ship has entered the bay. What would you wish us to do?"

Hmmm, I was wondering when he would arrive. Mary had been becoming more and more restrictive of trade of late and he needed her gone. The pirate fit into the equation to make that happen.

"Send Journey tomorrow morning with Affinity to meet him. Tell them to bring him, and one other person if he wishes it, to the sitting room tomorrow to discuss what our plans are. Tell Affinity to give him the normal run of questions and see if he is truly here to help. I have too much weighing on this. I need to be absolutely sure of this."

With another head tip/bow, Prescience left the room, leaving Dragoon able to go back to enjoying his sweets.

                                        

Winterspell took the news of Dustdevil in stride. He hadn't noticed the other Epic get hit since he had been so concerned on fighting that fire Epic. Before stepping into the portal, he thought about the implications that he would have here. He turned to Deathgale. He knew that the wind Epic thought him soft for caring about his soldiers, so he chose his words carefully. "If there is any chance of saving him, Blindsight will be able to do it. Can Mary send me to Icesteel Keep? I can pick him up and while I am there I'll talk to Lightwrough so she can stop extending the daylight. It won't take more than a moment and it will get him off of your hands st the soonest moment possible. I know that Mary can only get me where her blood is, but once I am at the wharf I can get into the Keep and out of it as soon as possible."

 

[Edgedancer he/him]

On Winterspell’s request the wall of blood split into two, one moving towards Winterspell and the other one towards Deathgale. “Of course, we’ll wait for you to finish your business,” Deathgale said.

Winterspell replied with an unnecessary thank you and left through his portal. Deathgale afterwards calmly stepped through his own portal.

 

A clear blue light refracting from his surrounding made it easy to tell that he was not only back in the castle and also within his personal wing.

 

The first room down the floor he entered a room equipped to act as his own personal bar, a proper counter, stools, dart, pool, all of it designed out of glass and metal to fit with the esthetics of the castle.

 

Currently, he also found the Metal in the room, playing a game of pool, next to him a slightly nervous servant girl standing ready to pour him a drink. Judging by his shoot, the ten just barely stopping in front of the corner pocket, he was actually playing in earnest.

 

Deathgale walked over to the table, “I assume you’re here because of the trouble Mary vaguely mentioned?”

“Exactly,” the Metal trailed off as he concentrated on his next shoot, this time landing the ten inside the pocket.

 

The lack of proper conduct always has been a problem with the Metal. His actual position jut never penetrated into his mind until Lucentia reminded him. The raw amount of power did allow him to get away with his disrespectful behavior but ultimately he was still on a tight leash. However, here he had a rather simple way to make him listen.

 

“Hand me the cue,” Deathgale told the Metal. Once he had the cue he quickly sank the remaining balls with a few skillful shots. A display that was undoubtedly above his own skill at the game.

 

It drawed an annoyed grumble from the Metal, “Fine, you have my undivided attention. After Mary ordered me out I ended up meeting two Epics that want to hire with us. I told them you would give them their interview tomorrow.

 

“The first one was a High Epic named Brightdeath, I call her Sunshine, can solidify light with a range of textures and teleportation tied to a danger sense. Personality wise she was actually somewhat adorable.”

 

The servant let out a muffled sound. She noticed her insolence the moment it happened and caught enough of it, making whatever it was supposed to convey unrecognizable. A shame, they should be better behaved, if simply to keep the need for replacements low.

 

Fully aware of the trouble she was in the girl shrieked away from Deathgale’s gaze on her.

 

Unfazed by the entire situation, the Metal took the glass from the tray she was holding, took a sip from it and pushed her away from the table, taking the chance to put his hand lower than was necessary. From the way she stumbled to the door it was rather apparent that the Metal was using his power to quickly push her out of the room.

 

Given their dresses, once she was out of sight he wouldn’t be able to tell her apart from the others afterwards.  

 

The entire display earned a raised eyebrow from Deathgale. In response he got a sluggish shoulder shrug, “You’re the one that wanted me to say on topic, just fair if you don’t get sidetracked either.

Anyway, where was I. Ah yes, I was about to compare Sunshine to a puppy, rowdy and prone to doing something stupid but actually eager to please once she understands who’s in charge.

 

”The other one is called Bioterror, capable of manipulation organic organisms and apparently can pull parts of his body back into himself. Much more disciplined.

Then there was some other random guy that either had super speed or something that can simulate it, which ran away almost immediately because I didn't pay him the attention he wanted and that was my day.”

 

“I see,” Deathgale responded, “You’re free to go but just to make sure you still remember, don’t go and play around with the slaves. That will only turn into a bother for all of us.”

 

Giving another shrug the Metal left the room. Deathgale moved behind his counter and mixed himself a drink, while contemplation tomorrows interviews.

[Aonar he/him]

 
Azrael stood on the balcony, listening. Slowly, the sounds of battle began to filter in. There. They should be about halfway by now, if we can hear them. He nodded to Nightshade. It’s time.

 

A great ram made of shadow began to gather before the balcony door. With a gesture, he sent it crashing through, into the room inside. “Lights out, Midnight.”

 

The Epic stepped inside, and instantly, the room went dark. Azrael touched the surface of the roiling darkness, and teleported to what he assumed was the centre of the room. Let there be light. The shadow dissipated, revealing the room’s contents.

 

It was lavishly decorated, as befitting an Epic of Overwatch’s stature. A few servants stood about the room, petrified, unsure of what to do. Overwatch himself sat in a simple throne at the end of the room, leaning back; relaxed, bored, contemptuous. He looked kingly, silver-haired but well-muscled despite obvious age. “And who might you be?”

 

He gave a little bow. “I am known as Azrael.”

 

Overwatch raised an eyebrow. “Azrael, the archangel of death, the taker of souls... You think rather highly of yourself, don’t you?”

 

“So one would imagine,” Azrael said, tilting his head in acquiescence. “You cannot deny the name a certain elegance, however.”

 

“Perhaps. Let us dispense with this idle chatter. I know that your fellows are fighting their way through my tower. They’re doing an admirable job. It won’t be enough.”

 

Azrael shrugged. “I would not discount them so quickly, but you have come to the root of the issue. I seek to make a proposition, Overwatch. Rather than allow our servants to fight, and to die, leaving us both weakened, why not settle this here and now, like gentlemen?”

 

“A duel?” He gave single, barking laugh. “If you insist.” Overwatch stood and stepped down from his throne. “One condition. I like to see the faces of my prey before I kill them.” A wolfish grin broke out over his face.

 

Bowing his head, Azrael reached up towards his hood. “I accept your conditions.” As his fingers touched the dark fabric, it dissolved into a cloud of shadow. He stepped forwards as the darkness dispersed, revealing himself. The cloak was gone, replaced by a well-cut shirt and tie of the same pitch black colour. He was tall, thin and fine featured, with jet black hair; appearing far younger than he should. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing dozens of dark lines twining around his forearms like some complex tattoo.

 

Overwatch blinked, his smile slipping for a moment. “A boy. A boy threatens to topple my empire.” Boy? That’s a little harsh. I can’t look that young. He shook his head. “The world has quite the sense of humour, sometimes.” The Epic rose into the air a few inches, energy crackling around his fingertips. “Let us get this over with.”

 

Azrael stretched out a hand, darkness pooling across the ground, reaching up towards his fingers. It slowly formed into a rapier, each detail perfectly rendered by the shadow. It was a replica of one he’d seen a long time ago, in a museum.

 

He swung it lightly, checking the balance. Nodding, satisfied, Azrael raised it in mock salute to Overwatch, then lowered it into a basic guard.

 

The Epic smirked, looking amused. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you never to bring a knife to a gunfight, boy?” He flicked his fingers towards Azrael, and glowing bolt of power leapt from his hands.

 

The dark sword flashed downwards, almost too fast for the eye to follow, deflecting the bolt down towards the floor. It sizzled into the carpet, as Overwatch went still, shocked. “Sparks.”

 

Smirking, Azrael stalked forwards, blade at the ready. More bolts came, as Overwatch was spurred into action again. Azrael calmly batted each one away, his weapon blurring as it moved ever faster through the air.

 

He slowed, unable to move forwards under the increasing onslaught. Overwatch pressed his advantage, floating closer. For a moment, the were held in perfect equilibrium, energy crackling in all directions. Then Azrael slipped; his sword just a fraction of an instant too slow.

 

The bolt caught him in the stomach. He curled around it, staggering as it drove the air from his lungs. Then he drew himself up straight again, smiling all the more broadly. Seeing Overwatch’s confusion, Azrael began to laugh. “Honestly, did you think I would start a fight I thought I could lose?”

 

He lazily swept his sword through the air, razor sharp shards of darkness rolling off the blade. They flew forwards, before embedding themselves in something a few feet Overwatch’s face. Prismatic cracks spread across the space in front of the Epic. A shielding power? Unfortunate. I could just brute-force it…

 

Azrael walked forwards again, now ignoring the bolts striking him. They burned for an instant against his skin, then went out, without leaving a mark. He stopped just short of the barrier, then tapped lightly against it, mouthing two words. Behind you.

 

Overwatch narrowed his eyes, and stole a quick glance over his shoulder. Then he stopped and turned, slowly. Something was rising from his shadow. A crude caricature of Overwatch himself, warped, twisted and misshapen; limbs replaced by dozens of writhing tentacles, and mouth opening impossibly large, with multiple rows of broken teeth.

 

He tried to step backwards, tried to flee, but the abomination’s many limbs took hold of him, burrowing into his flesh. The Epic’s screams were cut short as the construct’s maw engulfed him. Completely concealed by darkness, wet cracks emanated from the spot where Overwatch used to be.

 

Azrael waved his hand, and the shadow fled. All that remained of Overwatch was bloody pile of meat and shattered bone. He looked to Overwatch’s vanilla servants, who had pressed themselves as close to the wall as possible. “Would any of you be so kind as to clean this up? I can’t have this garbage dirtying my throne room.”

 

All but one ran screaming from the room. Sighing, he encapsulated the mess in darkness, and flung it out the door, off the balcony.

 

Nightshade and Midnight cautiously stepped into the room, avoiding the bloodsoaked carpet near his feet. Azrael sat down in his new throne, calling his cloak around him again. A knock came from the door to the stairs. “Ah. That’ll be the rest of them, then.” Turning towards the one remaining vanilla, he decided to try his luck again. “Any chance you’d be willing to open the door for me?” She promptly fainted. Rolling his eyes, he sent a tendril of shadow to open the door.

 

Twilight, Darkquake, Vires and Eclipse filtered in. “Report please, Twilight.” While Twilight Spark’s cold, almost nihilistic objectivity was more than a little disconcerting, it also made her the best choice for getting an unbiased report.

 

“Less than half-dozen minor Epics were encountered on the stairs and only a few vanilla guards; either this was only a relatively weak faction within the city, or most inhabitants of this area have left for one reason or another. They, along with the servants who ran out of the room a few minutes ago have been dealt with.” Her syllables were clipped and precise, each word unhurried and perfectly enunciated, albeit monotone. It was a little creepy, if Azrael was being honest with himself. The Epic was nearly as inhuman as the constructs she created.

 

“Given this location’s position relative to the town, and the possibility of exposure to other organized forces, it would be best if we could establish defenses immediately. However, the unusual blue light observed in the sky is fading rapidly, and none of use with the capacity to erect large-scale barriers are capable of doing so without definite shadows. Given the circumstances, I would recommend creating a temporary barrier enclosing the tower, and appointing a rotation to ensure no attack is made while our guard is down.” Could have figured that much out for myself, thanks.

 

“That sounds reasonable,” Azrael said, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He clicked his fingers, and darkness started to flow like tar from beneath his feet, spreading out and coating the surface of the tower. He stood silent for a moment, brow furrowed in concentration under the shadow of his cowl. Fine mesh screens fitted themselves over the windows and doors, stronger and thinner than any steel. “I will watch for now. I have little need of sleep, anyways.”

 

He looked up at the still assembled Epics. “I assume most of you know your duties tomorrow? Nightshade will take care of living quarters, and interrogating the Epics that have been captured. Eclipse, Darkquake and Vires will arrange for more permanent defenses. Twilight and Midnight will help me in beginning to expand our holdings. Is that agreeable?”

 

Brief nods and the odd, “yes, m’lord,” from the more ingratiating Epics showed their assent. Without a word, he turned and walked back out on to the balcony, the screen he had woven parting and reforming behind him.

Edited May 26, 2015 by Aonar Faileas

[Sirce Luckwielder he/him]

Winterspell exited the blood portal to find himself on the Astorian docks. As he stepped off the wharf, he formed an ice disk to land on. With a grunt of exertion after the trying day, he sent himself off towards the Keep, hurtling at speeds that would kill a normal man.

 

Since it’s so late in the night, finding Blindsight is going to be difficult, he thought. For a man with a routine, he could be hard to keep track of.

 

As he neared the palace, inspiration struck him. Who better to find one of my personal than Tag? He almost always keeps to the Minor Epic quarter, so he will be much easier to locate than Blindsight.

 

He veered towards one of the walls, peeled it back, and reformed it behind him as he slid into the room. He looked at the occupants of the room, two of his Epics playing poker sat in the corner: Nightstand and Labyrinth. Before they could get over their surprise, he looked at Nightstand.

 

“Where’s Tag? I need him.”

 

Before Nightstand could answer, Tag rushed into the room.

 

“Right here boss. I saw you a’comin’ towards the Keep all fast-like and got myself here quicker than a sailor gets to a bar on shore leave. What can I do ya’ for?”

 

Winterspell grimaced, but teaching Tag how to speak properly could come later.

 

“I need you to locate Blindsight immediately.”

 

“He’s over yonder way boss.” Tag pointed vaguely off towards the ceiling and the middle of the Keep.

 

“Accompany me immediately. Time is short.” Winterspell gave Tag a glare, sending a crystal clear message.

 

Finally seeing that his commander was in full temper, Tag didn’t say another word, just immediately ran off towards a stairwell, leading Winterspell to his target.

 

After a short sprint through the palace, Tag gaining speed after a short glance back, they reached a sitting room where several Epics lounged. Blindsight was playing chess with Empath and two other Epics, Steel and Magnify sat by watching and betting. With anybody else, Blindsight would soundly destroy his opponent, but Empath had a decent chance when seeing his motives for performing moves. Normally it would be an interesting game to watch, but Winterspell had more important things to take care of.

 

He gave the rundown to the Epics as they stood up from their game to meet him. “Dustdevil and Kinesis have both been hit, and possibly Disruption as well. I want you to come with me to Lucentia’s palace to make sure that everything that can possibly done for them is happening.” Turning from Blindsight, Winterspell gave Empath a look and pointed towards the direction of his personal section of the Keep. With her powers, she didn’t need more than that simple movement to understand his request. She gave a quick nod and immediately sprinted off. She would tell Lightwrought that Winterspell had returned and that she could stop extending the day. She would also inform her that he would be going to Lucentia’s palace for as long as it took to see to his men.

 

Without waiting for a reply from Blindsight, Winterspell tapped the blood on his shirt and called to Mary. Blood extended outward, creating a portal for the Epics. Winterspell stepped in, telling Steel and Magnify to watch the blood. He did not need that spreading around his estate while he was gone. Even being allies with Mary, he still took precautions.

 

Winterspell stepped out of the portal and into a hospital room. Nursing assistants in white dresses, their faces and their hair hidden, walked around the room, attending the injured. Winterspell looked back at where the portal was. Blindsight stepped through holding his breath, obviously perturbed by the blood. Then, to Winterspell’s surprise, Tag stepped through as well. Before he could usher him away, the Epic held up a hand towards him with an intent look on his face, meeting his eyes. He motioned towards the beds. “I can feel that Dustdevil is growing weak, sir.” Winterspell gave the man a glance, but decided that he would need to wait until later before he talked to him.

 

 

Blindsight looked at the monitors, then touched a nurse standing beside one of them. He looked at them through her eyes, understanding each piece of them. Looking back at Dustdevil, he gave him a small salute, then turned towards Winterspell.

 

“Nothing can be done for him. Even a quick death by injection would only save him a few minutes. Let’s see to Kinesis.”

 

Some men would call him callous, but they didn’t understand him. It wasn’t that he didn’t mourn for the man, Dustdevil had been a good commander and treated those in the Keep with respect. However, there were things that were of greater priority at the moment, and grieving now would only make other things worse for the patients that could still be saved.

 

He walked to the table that held Kinesis. Where his legs should have been were only bloody bandages. They looked hastily placed, it appeared that he hadn’t yet been operated on. Interestingly he had been tied down and sedated.

 

Again, Blindsight placed his arm on the skin of a nearby nurse, looking at Kinesis’ screen. Most would think that the nurse seeing the screen could tell exactly what was being displayed, but mere mortals often missed things, even if they could see them. Looking at the screen, he was able to tell just what had been damaged and by the slight irregularities in the heartbeat he could see that a minor artery had not been plugged effectively by the bandaging. He quickly yelled at another nurse to find a surgeon. Within a few minutes one was provided.

 

Blindsight quickly explained his Red Vision to the man. He didn’t look comfortable having an Epic so close to “controlling” him, but he nodded his assent. Nobody understands! Blindsight thought in frustration. They have complete control over their own bodies. I only provide suggestions that they can follow, they do the rest.

 

The surgeon got to work on Kinesis. Cutting the bandages away, he began to operate on the Epic before him. Touching the surgeon’s back and the nurse that assisted the man, Blindsight navigated them through the surgery. As they went along, they grew more confident with his presence. They performed better than they ever could alone. The nurse knew just what implements the surgeon needed and he didn’t even need to look up from his work to grab the tools that she held out. Within just a few minutes, the operation was over, and Kinesis was in the best possible condition he could be in, all things considered. Not only would he live, but he would be recovered enough to be mobile in only a few short hours.

 

The surgeon took off his gloves, and moved to shake hands with Blindsight. After a performance like that one, no wonder his eyes showed awe at his powers. From what he had seen from Lucentia’s palace, the servants didn’t talk more than what was strictly needed. That meant even gratitude or praise was quenched. Even though the man hadn’t washed after the operation, Blindsight took the man’s hand. There was no harm in building connections with people and he could wash as soon as they were done.

 

He quickly washed up beside the surgeon, then turned around. He addressed the surgeon. “Did another Epic named Disruption have wounds? If so, I had best see to him.” With a direct question, the surgeon had every right to answer, whatever the rules of the palace.

 

The surgeon stifled a chuckle. “He came in all right, complaining more than he ought. He doesn’t seem to have anything other than a small scrape on his knee. As soon as we moved him, he healed from one of the lights. Didn’t even dim it for more than a couple seconds.”

 

“Thank you friend,” Blindsight said, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He positively melted at the touch. Blindsight turned towards Winterspell, who was standing above Dustdevil’s bed, expression unreadable. That grieving time that he had put off before was coming out now.

 

 

Winterspell never cried. He never felt the need to. Whether from pain or emotion, tears didn’t come for him. That did not mean that he didn’t feel emotion. He gazed on the body of his former Guard Captain. The man had served loyally for several years. If there was anything that Winterspell valued in a person, it was loyalty and commitment. Dustdevil had been unwavering in both. With him gone, the most logical person to replace him would be Kinesis, but he was now handicapped. Finding someone, anyone, to replace Dustdevil would be hard at any time. He hoped that Kinesis would be up to the task with Blindsight looking over him.

 

Blindsight walked over to him, startling him out of his thoughts.

 

“The operation is over. Kinesis will be up and well in a short time. If we can find a healing Epic somewhere, that will be even better for him.”

 

Winterspell hadn’t really even noticed that Kinesis had been operated on. He gave Blindsight a slight bow, thankful for his efforts. Getting back into his normal mindset, he squared his raw and pushed any emotions he had down. It was time to talk to Disruption. According to what he had seen, the Epic needed a thorough talking to.

 

“What of Disruption, how has he fared?”

 

“I was just about to attend to any needs he has. I believe he is over here.”

 

Blindsight walked towards a sectioned off portion of the room, Winterspell following. Walking in, he immediately noticed that Disruption had no injuries. The second thing he noticed was that Disruption, a twenty-eight year old man, was laying on his bed, occupied by a child’s toy. I suppose if I had to deal with him in a sick ward I would do the same thing. It seems to be working in any event.

 

Upon seeing Winterspell, Disruption quickly placed the toy, a small car, into his pocket, sheepishly hiding it from view.

 

“Report,” Winterspell clipped off, keeping himself terse and collected.

 

“Sir, you’d be right proud of my accomplishments. I got two of their Epics and took a wound for the team.”

 

Seeing a shake of his head from Blindsight, Winterspell chose to ignore the Epic’s mistruths blatantly and continue on.

 

“How did you take out two of their Epics?”

 

“Well, I fired one of my blightning bolts sure and true and hit the flying Epic at two hundred yards. Set him on fire and everything.”

 

Winterspell spoke up. “Would that be the Epic that regenerates? The one that flew away from the scene after returning to life?” Seeing the other Epic’s crestfallen look, he figured that to be the case.

 

“But sir,” he piped up, “I also hit the Epic controlling the vehicles. Scared him off right quick. He didn’t die either, but he retreated thanks to me.”

 

Winterspell snatched onto this last bit. “He retreated?” He received an enthusiastic nodding reply. “In a vehicle?” Another nod. “Did that vehicle happen to have an electric engine.” This time Disruption nodded, but much less enthusiastically, a confused look on his face. “Remind me of Disruption’s powers Blindsight, if you would be so kind.”

 

 

Blindsight smiled. He humor could be good for the soul, and he could see where Winterspell was going with this. Disruption was so inefficient, so plain stupid, that he deserved a bit of a mocking.

 

“Well, he seems to have an extremely accurate lightning power, a healing factor tied to energy, and he can create bubbles of increased time. I believe that is it." He said the last sentence with a smile and a subtle piece of sarcasm.

 

Disruption put his finger in the air. "Wait! I also have my snazzy disruption field!"

 

"Oh yes, he has that as well. A field that warps light and sound, stops electric energy and disrupts radio waves."

 

"Ah," Winterspell said. "A disruption field. You say that this puts a stop to all electrical activity in your area of effect?"

 

Disruption nodded again, the confused look replaced by enthusiasm.

 

 

"Then why under Calamity's bright glory did the Destructors get away?!?" Winterspell yelled at Disruption. For his part, he no longer looked enthusiastic. "If their cars are electric, and you can stop electric machines, doesn't it logically follow that you can stop them?!? You were attacking their machine master for Calamity's sakes!"

 

"I forgot. I had too much to keep track of," the Epic cried, cowering away from Winterspell's onslaught.

 

“You forgot. Of course. That’s obviously reasonable. After all, it isn’t like anybody got hurt.” Winterspell had cooled his anger, replacing it with an icy calmness. Disruption had started to take that as a good thing. He shouldn’t have. “Don’t worry about a thing. It isn’t as if my Guard Captain, a magnate in his field is dead and Kinesis, another stoic, is handicapped. I’m sure that having you use your powers wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not. One. Thing.”

 

With that, he turned from Disruption. “I require your services no longer.”

 

Disruption seemed speechless. Even Blindsight seemed surprised at the outburst.

 

“But, but, but, what?” Disruption stammered, on the verge of tears.

 

“Oh shut your mouth you worthless maggot.”

 

With that, Blindsight came over to Winterspell and began speaking to him quietly.

 

“Sir, I know he messed up, but we still need all the men we can get. From our sources, Blackwave arrived this very night. He will undoubtedly talk to Dragoon in the morning and soon move on Astoria. Things are coming to a head. We can put him in a disciplinary position, the front lines even.”

 

Winterspell paused, collecting his thoughts. He probably couldn’t have saved either of the casualties, even if he had tried. There’s no way to know for certain. If Blindsight thought that he could be of use, then that was that. I’ve had never found him to be wrong. His advice is sound, and if he, one who dislikes the man, will speak up for him, then I’ll listen. Besides, perhaps Disruption will take this to heart and work to make himself better.

 

Winterspell nodded, still showing a slice of regret. He turned to the weeping Epic.

 

“Disruption,” he boomed, “do you feel suitably guilty?”

 

The Epic looked up at him. “Yes. I have no idea what to do now. Is there any way to be reinstated?”

 

Winterspell smiled. Perhaps he had underestimated the man. Even if he was clumsy and childish, he still was a man. He lowered his voice, changing his tone to match that of a forgiving father.

 

“There is. I want you to train and work on your abilities. Hone them. Very soon things will change in Astoria. You can be a part of them, but I want you to show that you are worthy of fighting off the hordes to come. If you can do that, than I will welcome you back with full forgiveness.”

 

As he spoke the last words, he glanced at Blindsight and met his approval. He looked down on Disruption, seeing the hope in his eyes. Yes, this was the right thing to do. Emotion overrode my sense of logic. His loyalty is sound.

 

“I will do everything you ask and more.” Disruption stood, took the toy car out of his pocket, and threw it into a small trash bin by his bed. With a resolute look, he raised his head, then proceeded to walk out into the main hospital.

 

Winterspell looked to Blindsight. “Thank you friend. You saved me from doing something rash and stupid.”

 

 

Blindsight inclined his head, deference on his face. He respected a leader who could recognize his mistakes, fix them, and give credit where it was due. He had never found a man like Winterspell, and he had already resolved he would serve him to the death.

 

“You’re welcome,” he said simply, walking into the hall. “Thank you for taking my advice to heart. Now let’s get home if we can move Kinesis without too much effort.

 

He looked again at the monitors, not needing to touch a nurse this time to read what they said. He was sedated enough that he could make the trip easily with Mary’s blood teleportation.

 

He gave a nod to Winterspell, showing that Kinesis could move if and when Winterspell was ready to leave.

 

He looked at Tag, getting an inclination of the head from him. The man had stayed out of trouble, followed instructions, and kept mostly quiet. Based on what Blindsight gleaned from him as he brushed his arm, the man had only moved from the room to go to the bathroom. He had gotten lost on the way back, but otherwise there was nothing he had done ostensibly to displease their hosts.

 

He was surprised as a hand touched his arm. He turned, seeing the surgeon from before. In his hands was a cloth bag. He handed it to Blindsight, taking a few moments to speak to him.

 

"This holds medicine and instructions on how to take care of your wounded friend over there. A few things need to happen or he will start having infections and that could be disastrous. Thank you for your help today. My name is Davidge Blesken if you ever need me again and my mistress wills it."

 

"Thank you Davidge. Your services will not be forgotten. " He shook hands with the man once more. He then proceeded to oversee the moving of Dustdevil's body towards the portal. Once that was complete he got Kinesis' still unconscious body onto a stretcher, holding it between him and a quiet Disruption.

 

 

Winterspell looked around the room, spotting Mary.

 

"Thank you for your facilities. My men would not have been as well off without your help. Blindsight says that we are fine to leave without causing unnecessary injury, so we will be getting off your hands.”

 

"Don't worry, we don't waste resources, as long as they are of use to us,” Mary replied. “Just be so kind and don't let it become a habit, yes?"

 

“Of course,” Winterspell said, grinding his teeth behind his lips-only smile.

 

With that he walked away, gave simple hand gesture for the Icesteel Epics to proceed through the portal.  He walked up to it, then paused to look behind him.  

 

“Don’t forget that you owe me a new shirt.”

 

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked through the portal into the Keep.  Things seemed to be the same as they had when he had left. Only Steel and Empath waited, having obediently watched the blood portal. It appeared that Kinesis had already been moved before he had left Lucentia’s palace.  

 

"Thank you for staying to watch the portal,"  Winterspell said as it receded on itself. "I commend you for your vigilance."

 

With a bow, the two Epics left. Winterspell double checked to be sure the portal was really gone, then made his way to his section of the Keep.

 

As he went, he found himself trudging along slowly. It had been an exhausting day, and pushing himself until now he had staved off those feelings. Now they hit with full force. He quickly made some power-assisting armor out of water and moved himself up the stairs. He could afford to be lazy after the day he had just had.

 

He entered the bedroom, finding Lightwrought still up waiting for him. From her drooping posture he could tell that she was as ready as he was for bed. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then moved to change into his night clothes. Even with all of the blood moving around, Mary had left some on his shirt. Taking it, he cast it out of the palace, using the water walls to melt and carry it far off, sending it towards the shore and city.

 

Turning, he slipped into bed. Lightwrought turned stopped emanating light, plunging the room into darkness. Turning to his wife, Winterspell recounted the day's events before they both drifted off to sleep.

 

[Edgedancer he/him]

The new day started without any further trouble, however it didn’t seem like that would last long. Deathgale was studying reports of the Destructors further movement, a ship presumed to be the Tidebreaker and unrests in the area around the column.

 

A call on his mobile distracted him from his work. Looking at the display the call was from his queen.

 

“Milady,” Deathgale greeted her after taking the call.

“Deathgale how is the situation back in Astoria?”

“It has been a rather eventful day but nothing you would have to worry about. Two new High Epics arrived in town and want to offer their service to the town. Some individuals have tried to attack the city but we fought them back without much trouble.” Deathgale didn’t mention the other attacks they anticipated. No reason to worry her with trifles.

“I see… I’ll trust you to keep my city in order.”

“Thank you for your trust, I shall not fail you. How do you fare in Portland?”

“It’s a pathetic cesspool but nothing that presents me with any significant challenge, so I think that I shall be back soon.” Her dissatisfaction with Portland was easy to pick out of her voice. Deathgale still wasn’t quite sure why she choose to head there herself instead of sending someone to fetch Nighthound.

 

Deathgale noticed Bloody Mary rising out of the ground next to him and she eagerly snatched the cellphone away from him. “Lucentia, you’re bringing him back, right?... Thank you, thank you thank you!... Hmm, I hope they don’t break to soon… Oh, I don’t mind if he eats out a bit…” Deathgale listened to Mary’s side of the conversation. Her excitement at the prospect of Nighthound returning was disturbingly apparent.

                                                                

 

After their conversation with Lucentia ended Deathgale set preparations in place for the interview. He wasn’t about to let two unknown Epics into the palace, as such he located the meeting in an establishment not far away from it.

 

The Shining Diamond is a high class restaurant designed to give its customers privacy for important meetings. It was also one of the few places that Lucentia deemed worthy her time, giving it not only a large amount of prestige but also over time has caused Lucentia to decorate the building’s inside with diamond structures, with the offical owner’s consent towards the honor being so natural that asking him for it wasn’t even necessary.

 

The interview was to take place in a large room in back, reserved for royal matters and furnished accordingly. Both Bioterror and Brightdeath had been summoned and should already have arrived.

 

Deathgale headed straight for the room, servants opening the door for him as he came closer.

“Welcome to Astoria. I’ve been told by the Metal that you intend to serve us.” He said as he entered.

[Voidus]

Bioterror waited in the room, a fancy affair, full of lavish furnishings and fine foods for the waiting Epic to enjoy. Taking a slice of cheese to enjoy with his wine, Bioterror swirled his glass around. He had no idea what to look for but a few of his friends had been into the whole wine and cheese thing before Calamity and that's what they'd always done.

Looking down at his chest, Bioterror undid the top few buttons. He'd arrived quite early, growing bored of having nothing to do and not really requiring sleep anymore had left him increasingly bored, which meant he was increasingly likely to murder some people and that was probably not the best decision. So he'd arrived early. And now he had time to spare.

Taking a seat he separated his skin along with his shirt, revealing his ribs that lay beneath. Using the nutrients from the food he'd been gorging on he formed new calcium deposits along his ribs, growing several small lumps of extra bone along them that steadily grew into small spikes.

Could be useful if someone tries to punch me I guess but that's probably going to get pretty uncomfortable.

Reabsorbing the spikes Bioterror instead simply increased his ribs density, over the years since Calamity he'd optimized every part of his anatomy as best he was able but he was always seeking ways to improve.

A flash of light announced the arrival of the girl from yesterday, his fellow interviewee as it were. She seemed to be more interested in looking at the fancy surroundings than looking at Bioterrors exposed ribcage, his fingers gently prodding the bones to check them.

About to greet her, Bioterror was interrupted by another arrival, through the door this time.

 

“Welcome to Astoria. I’ve been told by the Metal that you intend to serve us.”

 

"Bioterror" Bioterror said, adding his introductions to Brightdeaths. "Sorry about the mess." Withdrawing his fingers he allowed his skin to close over before re-buttoning his shirt.

[Edgedancer he/him]

Both Epics responded immediately to Deathgale. Good, at least they are punctual.

 

He surveyed both Epics. First was the woman, Brightdeath. She wore a glowing dress, assumingly made out of the solid light the Metal mentioned. The fines of the fabric indicated precision and it played well off the diamonds. They should be able to use that material for quite an effect. Together with the increase in mobility through her teleportation they should be able to put her to good use.

 

However, she was breathing very heavily. Either she was so bad with being under pressure that waiting for him was enough to strain her nerves or she did something rather stressful right before her interview. Neither of those options spoke well of her stability. 

  

The other one was examining his own ribcage. A mess as he said himself. Seeing how readily he exposed him he didn’t seem like someone that should be exposed to the public more than necessary. A lack of squeamishness on the other hand is a trait well suited for minions working behind the scene.

 

Not a bad catch those two. They are also a pretty big contrast to each other. All that was left was to confirm their personalities. The problematic part about High Epics was that getting rid of them, should they think to highly of themselves, could turn out to be more problematic than is normally the case. At least one of them was already infected.

 

Deathgale responded to them with a nod and seated himself at the table with the other three. “An excellent choice, I think we can all agree. Now, don’t feel reserved to order something from the servants, we have enough luxury to spare. Naturally, those luxuries come from our queen and we serve her for it. I’m sure that we can find something for you in this town but obedience to Lucentia is paramount. You two are aware of this, yes?”   

[Sirce Luckwielder he/him]

Arnold Sfeer woke up feeling that his brain had been replaced by a jackhammer. The night before he had been paid. As usual that had meant a few too many at the local bar. He remembered stumbling home and getting into his house after several fumbling attempts to get his key in the lock. After that he hadn't even been able to get to his bed before he had crashed, falling alseep on a living room armchair.

As he stumbled up, he wondered where the armchair had gone. He could see the depressions in the floor, but the blasted thing had disappeared.

I must have been more loaded than normal last night.

He walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall, the last place his armchair had wound up after a night on the town. His smile from remembering that night vanished as he walked by his bedroom, the door just before the bathroom. Where his bed should have been was a blank space. Not only that, but the whole room was empty. Everything had vanished!

Frantically he began running around his house. Everything was gone. His sterio from high school, his thirty inch plasma TV, even his refregerator! Looking outside of the window (even the curtains had disappeared) he noticed that his motorcycle was missing as well.

"What in Calamity is going on!" he spouted, running into a wall in his fury.

He exited the house, running through where a door should have graced his porch. He noticed that his neighbor Jonny's Nissan was missing. He knew Jonny, and the man would be working off a hangover as bad as his own for at least another hour. Running to the door, he looked through the window, seeing a sight similar to his own home.

Taking a glance around the neighborhood, at least three other houses seemed to be in similar conditions, one down the street had mysteriously disappeared entirely. He could see the family sitting on the porch, the husband consolling a crying woman who clutched a young child.

"Confound it all!" he yelled to the heavens and the red star that presided over them.

 

 

Lockvault settled into a rolly chair, examining his new computer. From here he could check all of the security cameras that he had "liberated." They surrounded the base, which felt much more like a home now that it had been furbished with some beds and many items that he and the Adventurer had "found."

He had grabbed a couple of extra beds and a few other items to keep in Storage. If he had to leave in a hurry he didn't want to relive the aches of the wild without some forms of comfort.

 

[Voidus]

Bioterror felt a little bit like he imagined a fish felt as it was brought to market, carefully weighed, just moments before it would be gutted and served.

The Epic examined him with careful eyes, measuring his worth and usefulness to the city before joining them at the table.

“An excellent choice, I think we can all agree. Now, don’t feel reserved to order something from the servants, we have enough luxury to spare. Naturally, those luxuries come from our queen and we serve her for it. I’m sure that we can find something for you in this town but obedience to Lucentia is paramount. You two are aware of this, yes?”

 

I wonder if anyone ever says no to that question? Bioterror idly wondered before nodding his head.

"Of course, I just want to have servants who are still alive at the end of the day because I don't need to keep killing them to show them their place. If Lucentia and Astoria can oblige me then I'll do whatever's needed."

 

The Adventurer looked over Lockvaults shoulder, watching the security feeds of the area around the base. Well it seemed the basics were secured for now.

They had a base, food, water and now security. But something still felt like it was missing. Some stat felt like it was going ignored.

One of the feeds showed a woman walking down the street nearby to the base, holding a handbag clutched closely to her chest and caster her eyes around furtively.

Nice, stealing must raise the NPC paranoia levels.

Struck by a sudden piece of inspiration, The Adventurer grabbed one of the pistols strewn around the base and shifted him up, shooting a quick "Back soon" in Lockvaults direction.

Appearing in a dark alley nearby, the Adventurer tracked the NPC movement on his minimap, he quickly found the woman from earlier, following closely behind her he quickly snagged a flower from a nearby garden, a garden with a giant hole in the middle where a house used to be.

Finally catching up to the furtive woman he stepped in front of her, wordlessly presenting the flower to her which had begun to glow with a soft pink light.

Looking confused the woman reached out to take the flower before noticing the glow, throwing her handbag at him she turned around to flee the other way.

Brushing her back with his fingers, the Adventurer shifted himself through her and into her path, catching the fleeing woman as she collided with him.

"You're very attractive" He told her, their faces close together as he stared seriously into her eyes and leant in-
The woman screamed.

"What the hell?" He said, dropping her suddenly and turning around. "What kind of game doesn't have any romance mechanics?"

Shifting his way back into the base he collapsed into a nearby armchair.

"Ah well, I'll work it out sooner or later, maybe it's a player-player thing..."
 

[Blackhoof]

 

Hellfire awoke the next morning, his left armpit stabbing him with pain whenever he moved. The Destructors had had some medical supplies with them, thankfully, and had sewed his wound shut and put his arm in a rudimentary sling. Also fortunate was the shallowness of the penetration- no major organs were damaged, although he wouldn't be able to use his arm properly for a while. That blasted, cursed water Epic!

 

Hellfire greeted the Destructors, and they sat down to plan their next move. As stated the previous night, they wanted to gather some new commandos before meeting with an "information broker" who could help them with their revenge strike against Astoria. 

 

"I don't trust this "broker" guy." Hellfire announced to the group, "I have someone else in mind to help us, in case your broker falls through. I'll be back here in an hour or so." Hellfire smiled, and without another word, he got up, walked onto the balcony, and flew off. 

Without the ability to use his left arm, his flight was somewhat slower and much less graceful than normal, but it worked. Skirting Astoria by a wide margin, he eventually came back to the spot he was pretty sure he had arrived at, where Valve should be keeping watch for him. Reliable as ever, within a minute a large portal had opened nearby, and Hellfire strolled through.

 

"My lord, what on earth happened to you!" Valve gasped, her insincerity clear to everyone. Hellfire rolled his eyes, "I had a run-in with some poncy water Epic. The bugger shanked me. I have joined up with some American tread-heads to destroy the city, so I need you to portal me to this city a bit north of Astoria, where they are waiting for me. Where is Banger? I need him." Valve nodded, and started opening portals, poking her head through each. Hellfire knew that she was checking every place Banarang-Bamal was likely to be. The fourth portal succeeded, and she widened it so that Banarang could come through. Tall, muscular, dark-skinned and bearing a long, salt-and-pepper beard, Banarang was an imposing figure to most. His bare, callused feet were somehow not burning or being cut apart by the rough surface.

 

The Aborigine lifted his dark, implacable eyes to meet Hellfire's, the fire Epic felt a thrill of fear once more. He had managed to beat Banarang once before, securing dominance over Uluru. But not by much. Banarang was a powerful earth Epic, and turned to a sort of invulnerable stone when attacked. Hellfire had managed to get him high into the air, and threatened to leave him there forever if he didn't swear allegiance to him. Stubborn and proud as his element, Banarang had stayed there for a straight week before acquiescing. 

 

Hellfire suppressed his fear and smirked, "Hey Banger, I got a job for you. Ha, bet that isn't something you people hear much." Banarang did not react at all to the casual racism, merely replying, "What do you wish me to do? I was busy making sure that the next shipment of food arrives from Alice Springs-"

"Yeah yeah, blah blah blah, listen. You are coming with me, and we are going to destroy a city."

The earth Epic's face barely changed, but he betrayed a flicker of excitement at the prospect. More emotion than he usually showed. "I will gladly join you, of course. But how does destroying some American city help us? Have you not secured your revenge against the attackers?"

"No you idiot, I did not-"

"So you failed?"

Hellfire's eyes narrowed, and his voice became terse. "No, I did not fail. Failure would be giving up, and I have no intention of stopping until Astoria is nothing but dust and rubble and ash! Now are you coming or not, you lazy-"

"Of course, I will assist you. It is clear that you need the aid." With that, Banarang stepped through the portal that Valve had just opened.

 

Hellfire growled under his breath, muttering racist remarks as he followed the earth Epic back onto American soil.

[Sirce Luckwielder he/him]

Lockvault watched the Adventurer's fiasco over the camera feed.  Bursting with laughter as he returned, Lockvault walked away from the Epic, who crashed into an armchair behind him.

 

He went to the back of the base, where he had installed all of the equipment to make this room a gun range. With the space restrictions of being underground it was only seventy-five feet or so, but worked in any case. Targets had already been placed on the wall earlier. From Storage he brought out safety glasses and ear mufflers, placing them directly onto him.  He also pulled out a handgun.  Since the range was so small, a bigger rifle wouldn't really test his skills.  He already had the gun loaded, so without much ado, he began firing at the target, sidestepping and moving to make the routine harder.  

 

As each round left the chamber, he placed them back in Storage, keeping them for a time that he would need them.  With his skills, he never needed to waste ammunition when he was practicing.  From over the years he had practiced at least once a day, sometimes as long as an hour.  Over the years since he had become an Epic, he had several ten thousand rounds stashed up. 

 

After the clip was empty, he looked back on his Memory, judging the trajectory of the bullets and their respective spins before he had taken them out of reality.  With this he was able to see where they would have hit on the target, giving him practice without the expense of ammunition. 

 

He repeated the routine a few more times, then placed everything back in Storage.  As he went back into the main part of the base, he closed the door that had been dampened to keep sound from invading the rest of the base.

 

Looking for the Adventurer, he saw him gazing hungrily at the camera feeds, the objects of interest appearing to be vanillas.  After his earlier attempt, this could not be good in the slightest.  Hoping to stop the situation before it became one, Lockvault spoke up.

 

"It seems like we have been here long enough, how about we go look for some quests, or something?"

[Mailliw73 he/him]

The morning dawned with new chances at taking Astoria. Dragoon would help, Jag was sure. When Hellfire flew off with no explanation, just a return time, Jag was frustrated, but not impeded. The four Destructors continued their work, gathering Commandos and temporary vehicles. Once ready, they headed out of town, Hellfire still not back.

Jag scanned the skies for a fiery body, but nothing was there even to his or Hawkwing's enhanced eyes. They left town and headed north for Dragoon. Hellfire would either find them on the way or not. Jag didn't care.

[Blackhoof]

Hellfire looked around as the portal closed behind him and Banarang, knowing that a small one would be opened to allow a servant to watch for their return. Abandoned and ruined buildings surrounded him, vegetation already reclaiming the town. He couldn't see the building that they had been staying in, but a quick flight would get him there. "Banarang can walk", he thought grumpily.

The earth Epic was kneeling a few feet away, a hand pressed into the dirt. His eyes were closed, and he breathed deeply and evenly.

Hellfire sniffed in derision. "Enough messing around, Banger! We need to find those gun-toting rednecks. I will show you to the hotel-"

"Are they in vehicles?" The High Epic asked, his eyes remaining shut and his head bowed.

Hellfire frowned. "Well, yes, they have some tanks or something. Why?"

Banarang's eyes opened. "They are not in a hotel. They are on the move, not far in that direction. Their wheels are like thunder bolts in my head, like an avalanche." He pointed, and continued, "Fly that way, and you will find them. I won't be far behind."

With a gesture, Banarang sank into the ground, disappearing completely. Hellfire growled, and took off into the sky, muttering racist obscenities and travelling in the direction Banarang had indicated.

Soon, he saw the Destructor's convoy, and landed in front of them. Banarang, true to his word, rose out of the ground next to the fire Epic. "Boys," Hellfire shouted, as the convoy halted. "Meet Banger, my earth Epic."

Banarang frowned for the smallest second. "My name is Banarang-Bamal. Pleased to meet you."

Edited June 26, 2015 by Blackhoof

[Sirce Luckwielder he/him]

Affinity went through her posessions, deciding what to place in her pack for the day. There was so much to choose from, with only so much that she could carry. She didn't know how this would all turn out, so she went with a small utilitarian pack. It would hold a few items, but wouldn't interfere with her movement as much as her normal pack.

 

Looking through her inventory, she chose several items.  She grabbed a lock pick set, a hammer, a multitool, rope and carabiners, some smoke grenades, a pocketknife, a game controller, a scuba mask, a first aid kit, and a spoon.  She took hold of the game controller and pressed it against her skin.  Thinking of Tetris, she used the skills a master would need and expertly inserted each item into the bag, making sure that each fit and none were grating against another item wrong.  Due to her amazing packing skills, she had room to fit one last item on top.  She went into her closet and opened a strongbox in the floor.  Inside lay two faded ballet slippers.  They didn’t fit anymore.  After a decade they had grown worn, but she kept them in excellent condition.  She had always wanted to be an expert ballerina.  She grabbed one, taking it out of the box and looking at it for a moment. Perhaps having the shoes wouldn’t do anything when she got into a situation, but they were a comfort and she felt better having one with her.  She placed it in the pack and closed the locker. She walked to the door, strapping on her typical weapons and her body armor.

 

In the dining room, she found Journey finished up breakfast.  She, of course, had already eaten.  

 

“Ready to go, you slontze?” After working for so long under Dragoon, all of the members of the Cavalry had become pretty comfortable with each other.

 

“Just waiting on a lazy, petulant girl,” he retorted, getting up and handing his tray to a serving woman. He began walking towards the door.

 

“In case you’ve forgotten, you are teleporting us there, so there isn’t really a reason to go anywhere before we head over. You do remember your powerset, as insignificant as it is?”

 

“Alright. Alright Ms. Hoity Toity.  Have it your way.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, kissed her on the mouth in a surprise move and they were suddenly standing in a warehouse.  It had been set up for the meeting to take place later on.  There were refreshments, comfortable chairs, and several servants would be arriving shortly to oversee the affair.

 

Affinity pulled away after another moment, slightly breathless.  “You know that your breath smells of onion?”

 

“You know that your lips taste like cardboard?”

 

“You know that your face feels like sandpaper?”

 

“You could feel the rest of me and make a better judgement later.”

 

“I think not, you’re ugly enough hiding your body beneath clothes.  Speaking of which, put on your half-mask, you got a little something something on your lips there.”

 

Before he could reply, she gave him a soft slap on the cheek and pulled away from him. Such banter and flirting wasn’t uncommon among the Cavalry, but she didn’t want things going too far.  She didn’t mind the occasional peck, at least from a few of the other gang members, but she didn’t really care for any of them enough to give them a peek under the hood.  For their part, they mostly respected her wishes, but that didn’t keep them from trying.  She suspected that they were slightly kept back by the prospect of a woman who could beat them at anything she put her mind to.

 

“You recharged on your teleportation?”

 

“Just about. Let’s move out and I’ll be ready by the time we get from here to the wharf.” His voice was muffled by the half mask that marked the Horsemen, but it made up for it by projecting his voice, albeit with a raspy effect on it. Dragoon thought it gave his Horsemen a distinguishing feature and he was right in that regard.

 

They walked along in silence after leaving the warehouse.  The normal people drew away from them, stopping their activities to let them through.  They knew them by sight, but also by reputation.  Dragoon controlled the city and his Cavalry was not to be offended.  To have one of the full Horsemen and Dragoon’s personal assistant was not something people would even think of crossing.

 

They walked up to the massive boat on the wharf.

 

Journey turned to Affinity, giving her a raspy “you ready?”

 

“Are you?”

 

He nodded in response, then raised his voice, calling to the boat.

 

“Ahoy the ship!”

 

[Mailliw73 he/him]

A flame burst into view and Jag called for the others to stop. Their temporary vehicles were nowhere near weaponized enough. An old Toyota just wasn't Jag's style. Dragoon should fix that soon. Hellfire shouted and introduced the dark-skinned man that burrowed out of the ground. "Boys, Meet Banger, my earth Epic."

"Welcome back, Hellfire," Jag said. "Banger, is that short for something?" He asked raising and eyebrow. It wasn't a name that an Epic would typically walk around with. Unless they were more lewd than most. 'Banger's' full name was a bit of a mouthful though.

"Let's head out," Jag said after the brief introductions were made. "Hope you two can keep up." He smirked and sped off.

When they arrived in town, Jag hopped out of his car, after ripping his door off. They need a bit of show to see who we are. Smasher expanded a force field and blew up a small car. "Where does Dragoon meet visitors?" Jag demanded. A few furtive glances and pointed fingers gave him his answer. "Thank you." He ditched his Toyota and began sprinting instead. The others followed.

[Edgedancer he/him]

Bloody Mary took a bite out of her bread with a nice layer of strawberry marmalade on it. After yesterday she earned herself a good breakfast and few foods was more suited to that than marmalade, as such she simply had an assortment of different types of jam and bread on her table. It was a pity that she couldn’t take more time off, especially now when Lucentia was about to bring Nighthound back but work wouldn’t wait long for her, more so today than usually judging by yesterday.

 

Still she could allow herself leisure for a little bit longer. Mary held her slice of bread down to the serving girl that helped her enjoy the morning. “How about some marmalade? You’ve earned it,” Mary told her.

 

The woman’s remaining eye darted between the sweet tasty slice of bread and Mary’s face.  She was supposed to be blind by now but she wanted to keep her as a welcome present for Nighthound, meaning she had to take proper care with removing the eyes and as such had not enough time to remove both of them, yet. Right now she was left on her knees in front of Mary, barely conscious and lulling from the drugs she pumped into her system, so she didn’t simply black out from the pain. Her head absentmindedly bobbed forward and see took a bite.

 

“You wanted to talk with me?” She could hear the Metal say, his voice slurring a bit, like he just got out of bed. Figuring that if he can answer, he’s awake enough for a conversation, she flicked out a tendril of blood into the room and connected it to the flask the Metal was carrying to move him into the room. Indeed he looked the part of someone that just got out of bed, his hair still an unruly mess and lacking a shirt under his usual duster, displaying the scar on his chest.

 

“Yes, indeed. Maybe you could also do me the favor and join me at breakfast?” Mary accompanied her question with a commanding gesture at the other chair, making it clear that there wasn’t much choice. After a short moment of hesitation he shrugged and took a seat. He looked around his options on the table and seeming slightly disappointed grabbed a jam seemingly at random. “So what’s this about?” He asked, while spreading the jam across a slice of bread.

 

Mary responded with an exaggerated huff, crossing her arms and throwing her head to the side. “A lady invites you for breakfast and you have neither time for small talk nor manners for something as simple as a good morning?” She ended her little act by turning her head back to him with a glare that would have been able to melt a hole into actual metal.

 

Naturally he didn’t melt but he did halt for a moment and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Being allowed to cut him up was a onetime occasion, however she and Lucentia made it spectacular enough that it also left a mental mark on him as well, which gave them the possibility to knock him down a peck every once in a while. This already made her day. The fake anger she played up before melted from her face and was replaced by a more genuine smile, a thin one that resembled a cat cornering her pray.

 

It wasn’t a moment that lasted long before he shifted back to his arrogant self. “I hope you had a good morning, Mary.”

“Oh absolutely and I wish you one as well. I’d love to tell you about mine, once you make sure this conversation will stay private.”

The Metal simply shrugged his shoulders. “No one can hear us.”

“You see, Lucentia is going to return with Nighthound soon, which itself is good news enough to make me happy of course,” Bloody Mary was growing slightly bubbly as she continued talking, “However, because I’m upholding my blood control all over town he can’t be too rough with me, to make sure he doesn’t kill me. Meaning we can’t really go at it, even if we get proper time alone. So, I looked among the serving girls for one that suits his tastes, which is her,” Mary pointed at the redhead kneeling next to her with a blood tendril, “so he can go rough with strangling and punching her at least, although I would have liked her to have a better hip. What do you think? I kind of hoped that, as a follow man, you could give me some pointers how I should best train her.”

“This might come surprising to you but I am one of those guys that never understood the appeal of mishandling women.” The Metal’s face was deadpan but his eyes shortly flicked over to the one eyed girl.

“A pity.” Disappointed, Mary slouched in her chair. “Wait, maybe I could simply teach you about it,” excited again she leaned over the table, supporting herself with her hands against the table, “I’ve just finished growing some flesh-eating centipedes, they aren’t really for beginners but you can get some fantastic results by setting them into the right parts of the body and…”

 

She noticed that his eyes weren’t really focusing on her and he fingers were tapping rhythmic against the table. Mary simply starred flatly at him. Shortly later he shrugged his shoulders. “What you can’t reasonably expect me to listen to that crem.”

Pouting Mary pulled herself back into her chair and said, “Fine your loss. I suppose we should start talking about business then.”

 

She really wanted a torture buddy.

[Blackhoof]

Hellfire's smirk faded as the Destructors drove around them, leaving them in the dust. "Americans..." Hellfire grumbled, "Can't even give a wounded mate a lift!"

Banarang said nothing, and sank back into the ground, leaving a patch of churned sort in his wake. The fire Epic clenched his jaw and formed a seat of solid flames beneath him. Sitting down, he set two wheels of flame rolling, and set off down the cracked road.

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

Purple is Joe/Blackwave     Blue is Mail-Mi/Wandersail     Green is Luckwielder/Affinity

 

It was about time someone showed up. They’d been waiting all night for a message. Blackwave strolled to the railing, looking at at the port. “Ahoy the Port! What do you want?”

 

“Starlit Rain,” Affinity said, giving the prearranged pass phrase. “You know who we represent and you know what the terms are. Our leader wishes for us to conduct you to a meeting place.  There will be refreshments to satiate you.  Do you come in peace?”

 

“It’s a big city you know. How was I to know you were Dragoon’s Men. And yes, I ‘come in peace’” He didn’t bother to keep the Sarcasm out of his voice. Yes, he came in Peace, but he would only remain in peace if a deal was made.

 

Affinity turned to Journey whispering the Pirate's intent to him.  “He’s legit.  So long as we come to an agreement he won’t be doing anything to Long Beach.”

 

Turning to the pirate, she called out.  “So we are agreed then?  You may come with us.  Bring one other person if you wish.”

 

He looked over his shoulder, and nodded at Wandersail. The Wind Epic joined him at the gangplank, and they both walked down the ramp to the Dock.

 

Wandersail followed Blackwave to the dock, She used her wind powers to make herself look majestic, while blowing Blackwave’s cap off of his head. She stole a small smirk as he grumpily reached down and put the hat back on his head. He looked at her as if to say No games now Wandersail, or I’ll put you in the brink when we’re back. He turned back to the two Epics and said, “Now then, where be the meeting taking Place?”

 

“There is a room set up at a nearby warehouse. My friend here,” she gestured at Journey, “can take us there immediately.”

 

A Warehouse, how Original. “Then take us there.”

 

Journey placed his hand out, then teleported all of the Epics to where he and Affinity had been a few minutes before.

 

The Male epic put his hand out, and Blackwave eyed it. He glanced at Wandersail, who sighed, and grabbed it first. When nothing happened, Blackwave reached out as well. It never hurt to be cautious. And then they were there. There wasn’t any feeling, just a sudden change of Scenery. The port was gone, in it’s place a large and spacious building.

 

“Welcome. There are chairs to sit in and we have several refreshments for your pleasure.”

 

Looking around, he could indeed see several comfortable looking chairs and tables. He idly uncapped his flask, and sent the water out of it. It snagged hold of one of the chair legs, and brought it to him. “So, are you the one’s I’m negotiating with, or is it someone else.”

 

“Dragoon is too busy and important to come at the moment.  We are just two members of his high staff.  Never to worry, we can vouch and act in his name.  So, what are your terms?”

 

“So far, none. I need more information before I ask for terms. All I was told was to kill Bloody mary, after meeting Dragoon here.”

 

"That is generally what the basic plan for you is.  Mary, and all of the Astorian government Epics are a nuisance to our operations here. Our benefactor wishes them dealt with as soon as possible. Mary is primarily our main problem. With her ability to get into our agents we can not move onto dealing with any of the other Astorian Epics without having our entire plan compromised. It will be your job to deal with her. If you choose to leave after that step, your price will be paid. However, if you choose to continue on and help us get rid of the full Astorian regime your commission will be much more, as we will control the city and its resources."

 

Wandersail watched the conversation with interest. She’d heard of the Astorian rulers, especially the annoyingly whiny queen Lucentia. I’d feel much better about my life if she was no longer able to be a part of it, she thought. She didn’t speak out loud however; she always preferred to observe rather than participate. Participating was Blackwave’s job.

 

"It's not possible to kill Mary without coming into conflict with her allies, so I'll end up killing other epics in their regime anyway. I'll stick around for the full fight. How many allies in the city do we have?"

 

"Good. Would you like to negotiate a flat fee for the entire endeavor or a fee-per-kill? As for the support, well," said Affinity, "that's a bit iffy. We of course have the normal number of spies that you would expect, but with Mary's blood almost certainly infecting them they have mostly laid low. If you need them while you are there I can give you ways to contact them."

 

"I'd like a way to know who isn't or is a spy, unless you're fine with me killing our allies unknowingly. As for the pay, my men will be more motivated by a per kill pay."

 

"Name your price per kill, we can negotiate from there. Once we reach an agreement we can give you a coherent list of everything you need to know. We have also been working on this problem for a while, so we may have some suggestions on implementation for you."

 

“A Thousand per Minor Epic, and Ten Thousand per High Epic. And we get to keep any loot we find in the city unless you claim it beforehand.”

 

"The city, and everything in it are to be ours if we succeed. We will give you a bonus of twenty-five thousand if we take the city without too much ancillary damage. If you truly desire specific pieces of "loot" we can negotiate from there."

 

While that was stepping a little out of the bounds of what Dragoon had hoped for, he still wanted the city intact. If she could keep the water Epic before her from causing excess collateral damage to the city with a hefty bonus, that would be worth the price.

 

It was always disappointing when employers threw that clause into a contract. Collateral Damage was half the fun of these assignments. “That will work. When do we start?”

 

Sensing his desire for destruction, with her powers, Affinity was glad to have struck a bargain with the pirate. She casually tapped her watch, a button that would send a quarry to Dragoon's office. A moment later, the watch blinked once green.

 

Looking back at the Epics, Affinity smiled. "Dragoon's schedule has opened up. We can take him to you in just few minutes. Once we are there we can give you our intelligence and then you can be on your way." She grabbed a bottle of Scotch and poured it into a glass, clinked the ice a few times, then downed it in a gulp. This was looking to be the start of something very profitable.

[Voidus]

The Adventurer toyed idly with a piece of string as he thought over his interaction, was there some kind of requisite side-quest before a romance option appeared? Should he have brought that woman more flowers or something? Well she'd reached out to take the flower so gift giving was obviously ok, but then she'd tried to run. Maybe something more practical next time? Like one of the guns that Lockvault had in his inventory?

Resolving to ask his partner when he was done in the shooting range the Adventurer began watching the security feeds again, watching the NPCs scurry about their tasks, some occasionally pausing to chat as their morning routines kicked in. Watching one small family begin cleaning their house in the aftermath of last nights breakin the Adventurer marvelled at the complexity of the AI, usually games just reset all the items whenever you weren't looking, he supposed because of the security systems that it made sense to leave the NPC AI on even if there weren't any players around. Casting a quick look around the base and noting how it had already become somewhat messy after just a single night he considered checking to see if he shifted the NPCs to a new environment if they would start cleaning here too...

"It seems like we have been here long enough, how about we go look for some quests, or something?" Lockvault piped up, exiting the firing range.

"Not a bad idea, I don't even know what kind of factions there are here, I usually try to keep neutral at first to get through the main quest first but it's always good to know about all the guilds or whatever they have."

Forgetting about the cleaning family, the Adventurer started rifling through the room, picking out the odd item and putting them in his pockets with a muttered "Never know when you'll need it."

Thus armed with not only his rifle but several scraps of paper, a piece of chalk and a broken pen he shifted himself and Lockvault back into the city.

"Any ideas in particular?" He asked his companion as they appeared in a busy street, people giving them a wide berth and avoiding their eyes for some reason.

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

Ten white votive candles sat in an elliptical formation on the floor beneath the window. It was enough, but just barely. One hundred was a far holier number, one thousand holier still. But the last time he’d tried that, Lucentia had begun warbling about fire hazards.

 

The One possessed her quite frequently.

 

“Savior Zero, bless this day,” he chanted. Lucentia wasn’t around to hear his chanting, so he repeated it a few times. “Bless this day and curse our foes, hide their bodies, Great Zero….”

 

When his morning ritual was complete, the Financier straightened his top hat, extinguished the candles, and created an equation:

 

9 candles times 0 equals 0 candles

 

The nine candles vanished, leaving one, which he set on his nightstand before fetching the supply list from the mailbox by his front door. His eye twitched as he perused it.

 

800 bags flour

300 eggs

 

It went on for some time, and that was the problem. So many numbers—all whole, all longing to be holy—but the more numbers you put in one place, the more they conspired with one another. He could see them conspiring now, lines twisting and twitching in threatening ways only he could notice. If he listened closely—he didn’t want to, but there were times when he couldn’t help it—he could hear their whispers.

 

He longed to destroy them all.

 

His hand shook, and the list shook with it.

 

He couldn’t destroy it yet. Not until the supplies were replenished.

 

The Financier crumpled the list—just to send those numbers a message—and shoved it into his pocket. He took the candle, now cooled, from his nightstand and tucked it into his coat pocket. You never knew when you might need an undetermined number of votive candles.

 

Thus prepared, he struck out of his suite and set about his day. 

Edited July 25, 2015 by TwiLyghtSansSparkles

[Edgedancer he/him]

The talk with Bloody Mary left the Metal exhausted to say the least. He was by no means squeamish, far from it, but that woman just a number on her own. It was plain spelled on her face that she was thinking about dissecting everyone she so much as sees, worse was that she knew exactly what cutting him open would look like. If those sparking diamonds weren’t in his body, he’d simply reduce her to a smear on the floor. Gritting his teeth he closed his wardrobe, no need to let that drag him down.

 

“That bad?” Kim asked, standing a bit away in her servant clothes, gesturing at the door handle he just accidently crushed in his hand.

 

“Apparently,” he grumbled, while tossing it to the ground, “fix that up for me would you? I’m heading out.”

 

“Certainly, I would never dream of displeasing a being as magnificent as yourself.” There was the smallest hint of playfulness in her voice hidden under the formal servility.

 

Reacting in kind he gave her a soft clap on the rear, drawing an overacted squeal from her. Then he pushed open his window and jumped out. Before gravity could pull him down he pushed himself high up in the sky, taking in how Lightwrought had colored it this morning.

 

Once satisfied he thought what to do with his day until work called. Finnegan should be about to make his round. His mind set he shoot of towards his place, arriving just in time to see him leave it. Caring not much for grace he crashed in the ground a short distance away from him. To be fair it was more a crash for the ground than for him, sending dust whirling up in the air, while he came to a perfect stand, his coat waving behind him. He raised his arm above his head, brought them down so they were outstretched to his sides and snapped his fingers. At the same time he pushed down around the dust to clear the air.

 

“Good morning Finnegan, isn’t a wonderful day?”

[Blackhoof]

 

Lightwrought awoke, feeling the comfortable presence of Winterspell beside her. Light entered through the windows, reflecting and refracting through the white-blue walls of Icesteel Keep and providing a beautiful first view for the day. 

 

Climbing out of bed, she yawned and slowly made her way to the window. They had overslept; she had planned to be up at dawn to make a brilliant show out of the sunrise, but with everything that had happened last night they had just been too tired. "No matter", She thought to herself, as she looked out the window and leaned on the windowsill. "I'll just do it now." In her mind she planned out her show. A flash of blue here, a sparkle of yellow and green there... yes, this would do nicely.

 

Raising her arms above her head like a an orchestra conductor, Lightwrought painted the sky. All of Astoria could bear witness to her glory as she made light dance across the sky, in all manner of colours, sizes and hues. When she was done, she added a final flourish and set the sky as a beautiful, surreal flow of colour. Lightwrought lent back and admired her work, smiling slightly at the beauty of it.

 

"That was amazing as always, my dear." Winterspell said. Turning, Lightwrought saw him behind her, clad in his icy regalia. Lightwrought's smile widened, and she embraced her love. "I didn't want to wake you, you were so tired from yesterday..."

"I would never miss a display of your power, not for all the sleep in the world."

 

Still hugging, they moved to another window and looked out across the bay, towards Long Beach and Dragoon. "So your mercenary arrived, then?" Lightwrought asked.

"Indeed, sometime last night. I'll send a representative soon so that whatever Blackwave plans will be coordinated with our own forces."

 

Lightwrought looked up at him. "Are you sure that we are strong enough? We are strong, but defeating Mary? Or the Metal? You might be a High Epic but I-"

"Shh shh shh..." Winterspell silenced his wife with a finger to her mouth. "It will all work out splendidly, my dear. If Lucentia could defeat them and control Astoria, so can I. Remember, we have our secret weapon. And they will suspect nothing until it is to late."

 

Lightwrought frowned. But she kept her silence. She had gone with Winterspell this far, she would follow him further. They would follow each other to the ends of the earth.