What Happened In Astoria

[Aonar he/him]

 

 

Standing atop the tower, Azrael watched the sun slowly rise. He had stood almost motionless for most of the night, maintaining the fine net of darkness he’d woven over the area on the off chance some illusionist decided to try their luck investigating the column. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized the desire to sleep, but his thoughts remained sharp; real tiredness never afflicted him.

 

As the sun rose higher, he dispersed his protections around the tower. In proper daylight, it was a magnificent structure; it was wholly coated in diamond more than a metre thick. At the top, much of the original architecture had been removed to make way for a larger observatory like structure, where Overwatch had based his operations.

 

Wake up, Nightshade. You have a job to do.

 

Something like a muffled groan came over the mental link. It’s far too early in the morning, Lord Azrael. While you have no need of sleep, or other constituents of regular mortal existence, I do. Shameful fact as that may be, I would appreciate if you tried to keep it in mind.

 

Sparking passive-aggressive little slontze. The world darkened, and then faded back as the interior of the tower. Nightshade, Midnight and Vires were camped out on the floor, wrapped in blankets they’d managed to scavenge from the room’s excessive collection of drapes and rugs. Darkquake, Eclipse and Twilight seemed to have made arrangements elsewhere.

 

Darkness pooled in Azrael’s hand, forming into a long knife. Tossing it lightly into the air, it streaked back down beside Nightshade’s head, scoring a line of blood into his skin. It cut through the thick carpet, throwing up razor sharp shards of diamond as it connected with the tower’s structure. Another dagger was already in hand as Nightshade hurriedly tried to stand.

 

“Now, Nightshade, correct me if I am wrong, but I believe another one of the ‘constituents of regular mortal existence’ as an attached head. Assuming I am correct, you have a choice. You can sacrifice a little of your sleep to help fulfill our purpose, or you can sacrifice your head to help relieve some of my stress.”

 

The Epic bowed stiffly, a few drops of blood rolling down his face. “I understand, m’lord. I’ll get right to it.” Anger was obvious in his voice, but he kept himself in check.

 

Pathetic. This is supposed to be one of our Lord Calamity’s own chosen, and yet he needs to be threatened with death before he sparking does a job he already agreed to.

 

Midnight and Vires stirred groggily as Nightshade exited. “You’re up? Good. Wake the others, and set about your tasks, Make sure the defences encompass both towers and as many of the outbuildings as possible. I need to get a closer look at our new domain.”

Edited August 18, 2015 by Aonar Faileas

[mail-mi he/him]

Dragoon had just finished strapping on his travelling gloves when Journey and Affinity reappeared from their meeting with Blackwave. 

 

"Perfect timing," he said, throwing the end of his scarf over his shoulder. "Did we arrange to meet with the pirate?" 

 

"Yes," Affinity said. "We're meeting him in the regular meeting place." 

 

"Excellent!" Dragoon said. "Let's get going the--" he cut himself off as he realized something. "Journey, would you be a dear and find the other three Horsemen? I believe they'd want to meet with our allies as well." 

 

Journey saluted with one hand, but with the other hand reached down and pinched Affinity on the bottom. She yelped and turned around to slap him, but he was already gone. Dragoon tittered softly at the exchange, then held out his foot with an untied boot on it. A maidservant quickly ran to him to tie up the laces, making sure to tie it extra tight. 

 

Moments after his boots were done up Journey reappeared with War, a skinny lanky-looking guy whose looks really hid his true power; Precience, a short husky man with short brown hair that was extremely well kept; and Blight, an older man that could almost run as fast as if that was his Epic power. 

 

"Well, now that everyone's here, let's be off!" Dragoon grabbed onto War's hand and all six were transported away to meet with the pirate Blackwave. 

 

----------

 

Rodrigo had tried to live as normal a life as possible when Calamity showed up. That was proving to get more and more impossible. 

 

Like, for example, when an array of vehicles plows into town, and one of the doors opens up to let out a really muscular-looking man, who then proceeds to rip off his door. Rodrigo jumped in shock as one of the cars next to him exploded. "Where does Dragoon meet visitors?" the muscular one said, looking around at the small crowd of vanillas. 

 

"Th-that way, sir. His regular meeting place is over there," Rodrigo pointed down the street. "Just turn l-left up there sir." 

 

"Thank you," the muscular one said, and then he started sprinting towards the place. A flood of people came out of each car and followed after him, probably intent on crashing whatever party Dragoon was probably hosting this morning. 

 

Rodrigo shook his head and got back to work. Sometimes, "normal life" in a post-Calamity world was just impossible. 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

The Metal appeared in a cloud of dust, trench coat billowing as the sound of his impact faded. He raised his hands and, with a snap of his fingers, sent the dust back toward the ground where it belonged. 

 

How disgustingly typical. 

 

"Good morning, Finnegan, isn't it a wonderful day?" 

 

The Financier's eye twitched. His name was not Finnegan. It had never been Finnegan, and the Metal's insistence otherwise would only attract the One's attention. He hated whimsical nicknames. Despised them in a way atypical of everyone but Lucentia, especially when that nickname was applied to his enemy. The Epic who had been rewarded with a vision of the Savior himself, and knowledge of the Prophet's role in cleansing the world. 

 

"Wonderful," the Financier snapped. "Of course you'd call it that. You don't have a list of heathens plotting mayhem from your pocket." 

[Edgedancer he/him]

It was good to see at least one of the newcomers proclaiming the will to work, he’d see about the other one shortly. Calmly he grabbed one of the bottles on the table and poured himself a glass. “A fine attitude,” Deathwish said, “How about we put it to the test? You see, as it were the two of you are not the only ones to have enter our town yesterday. Different from you however, this other group did not have the sense to make their regards and instead stirred up trouble. Naturally, we could deal with them ourselves but it seems like a good chance to test how much you are actually worth.

 

“The situation,” Deathgale continued,” is that they have taken position at the Astoria Column and created what seems to be a shadow duplicate of it. As you two probably have already guessed, I want you to head there and deal with the situation. While, we would prefer keeping the column intact everything there is ultimately disposable, so feel free to take the chance and display your full capabilities. In case you don’t have any other questions I’d expect you to head of now. A meal to your liking shall be prepared for your return.”

 

Bloody Mary would be keeping an eye on their battle but not interfere. Currently, these two were very much still included in the disposable category.

 

Finnegan snapped quite liberally at the Metal’s greeting. The poor fellow had a problem with keeping his nerves under control, especially if numbers are concerned. It probably didn’t help that he was calling him Finnegan but he himself simply found the name much more amusing, so Finnegan would have to deal with it.

 

The Metal laid an arm around his shoulders and said, “So you’re getting sent on another run to stock up resources, huh? Though luck, I feel you, pal. What do you say about some company? I’m even taking music wishes.”

 

He finished with a flourish of his free hand, which brought his mobile to the ready to play whatever song he desired. 

[Voidus]

Bioterror nodded briefly at Deathgales instructions, already beginning some body alterations. His fingers fused together as the flesh from them slowly stripped away, bones merging to create short blades. He'd wanted to create a full arm-length sword of bone but his body just didn't have the minerals necessary to produce that amount of bone structure right now.

"Alright then, what and where are the Astoria columns?" He asked, turning to Brightdeath. "And you can teleport right? Can you take others or am I going to have to run?"
 

The Adventurer shifted once more, there had been no obvious quest-markers that he'd seen so he supposed quests needed to be discovered through interaction. So, dragging a grinning Lockvault along with him he'd shifted from place to place, attempting to ask if there were any ogres that needed slaying or princesses that needed rescuing. Those that saw him arrive all ran in fear, those that didn't run didn't seem to understand his questions.

Stupid buggy game. The Adventurer thought scathingly.

Just then he spotted something in the distance, a tower made from an entirely black material of some kind, it seemed to absorb nearby light and was nearly a twin to another tower nearby, built of more normal materials.

"Oooh!" He cooed excitedly, nudging Lockvault in the ribs and pointing. "Must be an evil magicians tower or something, sounds like quest material to me!"

"I don't think-" Lockvault began to say, some notes of curiosity in his voice but underlayed with suspicion.

"Don't think, do!" The Adventurer said, grabbing onto his partners arm and shifting them once more.

Hope we get to the right tower, hate to get all the way through it just to find out that the princess is in another castle.

 

[Voidus]

The sudden change in light, air and scenery dazed Bioterror slightly as he arrived at what he could only assume were the columns.

"You could have asked you know." He said scathingly as he realized he'd just been unceremoniously teleported to their destination.

He took a pair of earphones out of a compartment at his collar, place one of the buds in his ear he reached up to his shoulder and tapped a few times before he managed to hit the right button.

Orchestral scores slowly came to life in one ear as he prepared himself.

Hmm... Dark tower huh? Nothing from Mansell would fit, something a bit darker but still kind of actiony. Duel of the Fates maybe?

Tapping his collar a few more times the nostalgic music sounded out, reminding him of the days he'd first watched the Phantom Menace.

"All set then. Don't get in my way." He said to his companion before walking into the tower.

Best switch on the night vision if they've got darkness related powers like this. He thought, eyes changing subtly to allow more light to enter. Hope there's at least a few Epics here, massacring a bunch of people who can't even fight back is not going to be very interesting.
 

Arriving in a dark room, the walls, floor and ceiling all made of the same strange black substance, the Adventurer had to admire the designer, not many people would take the design to this level for fears of seeming lazy, every piece of clutter was completely devoid of a texture, instead all possessing the same black quality as the walls. It certainly made for an interesting atmosphere.

"Few people here." He noted, his minimap detecting nearby enemies. "One just entered below, a few more up top. Shall we head down first or clear the top floor?"

Lockvault still seemed a little surly about being suddenly dragged halfway across town, but nevertheless he took stock of the situation quickly and came up with a plan. He must have had some experience in a raid team or something.

"Top first, whoever's below us might catch up to us there but if we make too much noise fighting the other guy down here the er... boss at the top will probably notice and we won't be able to surprise him." Lockvault said.

"Ah. Good point. So stealth tactics then? Try to get some crits in before we get detected?"

The Adventurer thought that Lockvault looked almost confused before he simply nodded in reply.

Must play as a tank too much to know what rogues have to deal with. He thought, dismissing the strange behaviour.

"Right then, up we go, rifles out." The Adventurer said, pulling his rifle to his shoulder, a subtle light grew around him, illuminating the room enough to see by though not spreading too far in front or behind them.

[Edgedancer he/him]

Here's a collab post from Twi and myself.

 

“What do you say to some company? I’m even taking music wishes.”

The Financier stifled a sigh. There was no dissuading the Metal when he was in one of these terrible chummy moods of his. Even attempts to frighten him off with tales of the One’s many atrocities had only brought laughter. Either the Metal was exceptionally brave, or remarkably stupid. Both would make him unfit for the One’s service.

“Drums,” he said at last. “I can’t dissuade you from that dangerous polyphonic rubbish, so at least choose something with a good drum line.”

Thus Finnegan succumbed to his fate. Nowadays he did so much faster, the Metal wasn’t entirely sure if that was for the better or if he missed the grumbling and other attempts to get out of it. Naturally, it was still easy enough to get a raise out of him with, well just about anything. Even good music as he had figured out over the time. You gotta pity a man that can’t enjoy good music, simply for the sake of it being good music.

Nonetheless, he went about searching the music database for something fitting Finnegan’s wishes. At least he could get something with a halfway decent drum line to keep it from simply wasting the music, not that anything actually good would fit Finnegan’s tastes. What he settled on was a song called One Is The Loneliest Number.

“One good drum line coming right up,” he said, “Let us go.” With the statement the Metal vigorously raised his hand and pointed towards the direction they had to go.

One

Is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do

Two

Can be as bad as one ‘cause it’s the loneliest number from the number one

Such a tragic song, but it was good to play it. Good to think of the tribulations faced by the Prophet in his quest to keep the world at equilibrium. To keep it safe. A high and lonely destiny. Not that others in Astoria appreciated the Prophet’s deeds. To them, such a ballad was simply a ditty from a forgotten age, not an uncanny prediction of the Prophet’s troubles.

The Metal valued all forms of music, even if some of them were clearly superior to others, as such he didn’t begrudge Finnegan his taste of music. Respecting their friendship, he didn’t even point out to him that it was inferior. However, somewhere on their way to the distribution center he did feel the urge for something better and secretly fiddled with the mobile in his pocket to play another song, manipulating its sound to keep Finnegan from hearing it.    

Then the building came in sight. The building itself was rather unspectacular but Lucentia hadn’t kept herself from augmenting it. The result was something that looked like a mix of an office building and a warehouse hugged into two folded up diamond wings.

Once they were close enough that the attendants could make out that Finnegan not only wasn’t coming alone but who he brought with him a slight panic started up in the distribution center, not an outright frenzy with screaming and the like, just putting some things in order. They at least had the sense not to try anything futile like lowering their voice.

 

He ignored all their going on about what an honor his presence was and if they could do anything for him. Some random vanilla’s growling wasn’t what he came here for, so he waved them of and headed to the room in the back together with Finnegan, who seemed to be a fair bit annoyed at the scattering about of the attendants. The back room for Finnegan to work in was well lit and filled with an assortment of small items, a good deal of which were various kinds of food and other ingredients, for him to duplicate and matching carts for them to be stored in.

 

The Metal simply plopped himself into a comfy chair in one of the corners as Finnegan reluctantly started his work.

[Mailliw73 he/him]

 

Jag ran into a cluster of guards, the other Destructors and Aussies close behind. "Where's Dragoon?" he asked, machete in hand. The look in his eyes was enough to tell them that he was an Epic, and one of sufficient power to rip them to pieces. If he hadn't wanted to please Dragoon, in order to receive more favors, he would've done it. Ripped the bugs to pieces and shoot them with their guns. Hack their appendages off, one by one. Holding in his rage always made it worse. He kept the anger subdued, but only just. The guards fumbled with their radios and called for Dragoon.

 

They told him to wait. Wait? He, a chosen Epic of Calamity, wait? Oh, how he cursed Dragoon's help. The necessity of it was the only thing keeping him from destroying this entire town, hardly long enough to be called Long Beach. The other Destructors took the news better, for the most part, but Jag saw in Smasher's eyes that he didn't want to wait either. "You find him as quick as you can or I will destroy you. Slowly."

[Aonar he/him]

Breakfast this morning was dry cereal and a few bottles of water; all they’d been able to scavenge from the nearby buildings. While it made for an impressive base, it was pretty clear that the column had never been intended as any sort of long-term stronghold by the previous tenants.
 
“So,” Eclipse said, over the dejected crunch of cereal, “anyone want to place bets on how long before we’ve got Epics attacking, now ‘Rael’s gone?”
 
“There’s no point,” Nightshade grumbled. “With Azrael’s newfound ‘purpose’ he’s going to be drawing angry Epics like moths to a flame. If we’re not all dead within the day, I’ll be amazed. Calamity, put me down for twenty bucks on Az himself doing us all in.”
 
“He’s not that bad. Sure, he’s been a little strange of late, but--”
 
A blindingly bright flash of light shone through the partially open door, forcing everyone to cover their eyes.
 
Darkquake spoke, breaking the sudden silence. “Put me down for a hundred on right-sparking-now, hon. Looks like we’ve got trouble.” He stood, setting down his breakfast. “Alright then. Regular plan, I’d imagine?” A few nods. “Midnight’s with me, and everybody else out. Nightshade, contact ‘Rael.”
 

---

 

 
We’ve got a problem, Azrael.
 
Azrael pulled up short, hovering high in the sky over Astoria. Already? I haven’t been gone a half hour.
 
Yes, already. We’ve got at least one infiltrator, probably more, and they’ve either got a light manipulator, or they’re prepared enough to have brought high-intensity mag flares. Plan A is go, but if there’s a light manipulator...
 
I’m on my way. Folding his wings, Azrael dropped like a stone towards the city below.

Edited September 22, 2015 by Aonar Faileas

[Voidus]

Bioterror's eyes, already set to adjust to the supernatural levels of darkness in the tower nearly exploded when Brightdeath teleported in front of him, she lit the entire tower up with a blinding light, both announcing their presence to everyone in it and very nearly blinding him. He would have healed from it even if he had been blind but she didn't know that did she?

"First part of not getting in someones way." He growled at the teleporter. "Don't teleport right sparking in front of them. Second part, don't bloody blind me or I'll turn your capillaries into jelly."

His vision returned very quickly to normal and he barely managed to resist giving Brightdeath a taste of her own medicine by giving her a retinoblastoma.

Opting instead to rearrange some of his internal organs he shifted some poison producing glands around before mentally double checking his internal structure for any vulnerabilities and proceeding further into the tower, his enhanced leg muscles carried him onwards swiftly and quietly, though any chance of a complete surprise attack had long since been lost.

A bright flash lit the tower at the same time the Adventurer noticed a familiar presence appear on his minimap.

"Huh." He said, he was still holding onto Lockvaults arm with one hand, the other gently brushing a wall. He'd been right on the verge of teleporting before the flash had hit.

"What? More reinforcements?" Lockvault asked, his eyes rapidly darting too and fro as he seemed to be extending all his senses to see what the Adventurer had detected.

"Sort of, one of those two we met yesterday, the one who could fast travel. Is this like a follow up quest or something?"

Lockvault appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, perhaps the Adventurer was wrong, he seemed to be a much better tactician than he'd first thought.

"If there's someone else who can fast travel like you then they'll catch up to us if we head upwards, but if they're here they might be er.. doing the same quest as us, we don't want to fight them and the top floor do we?"

"Well I don't think she has a minimap, I can travel to somewhere nearby and keep an eye on them, jump in once one side is winning and then finish them both off?"

Lockvault didn't exactly seem to approve of such tactics but reluctantly he nodded.

The Adventurer put a hand to the wall again, shifting through the walls of the tower to come out in an empty room near to the top, he felt the presence of the two who had entered below rapidly ascending to meet those who'd been at the top, although they now appeared to be spreading out. Straining as much as he could he discovered that what he'd always used as a simple minimap had much greater detail this close, he could almost see all the people running around, one below bounding up in an almost animal fashion.

This game was so cool.

[mail-mi he/him]

 

That one teleporting Epic appeared again. Things seem a little hectic around here, Wandersail noted. Lack of organization perhaps?

 

“Alright,” the teleporting epic said. “I’m back to take you to the meeting place.” He grabbed Blackwave’s hand and then, looking over at Wandersail, gently took her hand and kissed it like a “gentleman.” Dirty little... “It doesn’t seem like I’ve had a proper introduction with this black beauty. I am Journey; who might you be?” 

 

Wandersail ripped her hand out of his and leaned forward, getting into his face. “I’m Wandersail.” She hit him with a blast of wind that made him stumble backwards. “And you can shove off.” Grabbing his hand roughly while he was still dazed, she yanked him back to a standing position. “We’ll be taking off. Now.” 

 

Moments later, the three were standing in front of a collection of rough-and-tough looking people that were definitely Epics. The one who didn’t look so rough-and-tough, but rather looked very delicate, clapped his gloved hands daintily when they appeared. “The pirate! You’ve made it!” He looked around and introduced the people around him. “You have already met Journey--”

 

“Quite the greeting that was,” Journey mumbled beside Wandersail.

 

”--And this right here with the handsome hair is Prescience, this tall guy is War, and Blight’s right over here, the one with the fancy cane. And I, of course, am Dragoon, Lord of Longbeach.” More like Lord of Prissytown, Wandersail thought with disdain. 

 

Dragoon clapped his hands again. “Well, enough small talk. Let’s get down to business. What has Affinity already told you?” 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

3 bags flour times 3 equals 9 bags flour

9 plus 2 equals 11

 

Eleven was a good number. Ten was better, of course—any number representing a union between the Savior and the Prophet was especially holy—but a number depicting two images of the Prophet side by side was good as well. Two attendants scuttled forward to load ten of the bags onto a cart. The Financier formed a new equation and waved his hand over the remaining bag, producing eleven more bags, ten of which were likewise loaded onto the cart. 

 

He wasn't overly fond of doing it this way, but producing supplies a handful at a time made it easier for the distribution center attendants to keep up. They always grew so daunted when several hundred bags of flour appeared before them, and although new ones could be trained easily, those remaining worked so much more slowly when one of their coworkers was crushed to death, leaving him stuck in the center with hundreds of items and the One conspiring against him while the attendants slowly divided the supplies into smaller, safer bands. The only reason why the Financier didn't multiply everything at once and be done with it was because the slower method was faster in the long run. 

 

Finishing the flour, he removed the line from his list with a quick equation and moved on to the next. He could see them twisting, whispering, plotting, planning….

 

He crumpled the list and started on the eggs. 

 

Before long, the supplies had been replenished, and the remaining numbers on his list were rowdier than ever. Furious at the destruction of their comrades-in-arms, the few on the page were nearly shouting for vengeance. 

 

It was the Financier's pleasure to destroy them as well. 

 

He threw the crumpled list into the air, vanishing it with a quick equation, and turned to the Metal. "There. Now that the city is properly stocked, I'll do as I please." 

[Edgedancer he/him]

The Metal leisurely watched Finnegan do his methodical work of stocking up. His own contribution to the work was the vital kind that often didn’t get the gratitude it deserved, providing cometary. Finnegan up to usual fashion took it with a twitching eye and not much else. However, he managed to get an apple out of nagging him, while he was stocking them up, so that’s worth something.  

 

With his friend too busy with his attempts to ignore him and using the last shreds of his concentration on getting his work done the Metal instead did the next best thing and started to bother the attendants. In their favor he had to say that he got more of a raise out of them but they were too timid to actually give any proper responses, acting as if he’d just kill them on a wrong step. Bores.

 

Anyway, it could be worse but maybe next time he should wait until Finnegan finished his work. As if on cue Finnegan got rid of the list and proclaimed that he was done. Excellent, him doing what he wants could only mean one thing. The Metal finished his apple, jumped back to his feet and laid an arm around the other Epic’s shoulder, even if he wasn’t too thrilled about it.

 

“Alright then,” the Metal said, “if you say so that means it is cult time now. Let us depart!”

 

A bit of an eccentric gathering was just what he needed right now.

[Jo and the Bush all/any]

Blackwave always appreciated the shows caused by people trying to hit on Wandersail. The teleporter, Journey, was still scowling at her as his boss made introductions.

 

“You have already met Journey, and this right here with the handsome hair is Prescience,”

 

He didn’t look like much of a threat, but Blackwave was pretty sure his powers had something to do with the future. But seers were easy to take down. You just had to attack from all angles. Though the Sniper Rifle would be problematic.

 

“This tall guy is War,”

 

He actually looked the part, unlike Journey and Prescience. Taller than the rest, with a massive sword strapped to his back, and named after the best of Hell’s Angels. If it came to a fight, Blackwave would deal with him first. Or maybe recruit him.

 

“And Blight’s right over here, the one with the fancy cane.”

 

That was an actual Cane. Everyone else had a weapon, but this guy brought a cane? What exactly did the man think he was doing with it? He looked like the Winter Soldier trying to infiltrate a prom or something.

 

And I, of course, am Dragoon, Lord of Longbeach. Well, enough small talk. Let’s get down to business. What has Affinity already told you?”

 

The fat man himself would be the most dangerous, if he had five epics willing to follow him. But Seriously, all black and goggles? Dragoon was an Epic going through a mid-life crisis. “Your secretary told us the gist of it. You want to rule Astoria, but don’t want your hands dirty when it comes to killing Bloody Mary, since she’ll see you coming. And you don’t want us to pillage the city while we kill everyone.” He scowled at Dragoon. He wanted the man to know exactly how displeased he was by that. “Pay’s already been discussed. We just need to know your plan of attack. When and where do you want us?”

[Mailliw73 he/him]

 

Jag was impatient. The instant that the soldiers told him where Dragoon met with newcomers, he took off, bounding across the land towards a warehouse. The Australian pair followed behind the rest of the Destructors and met him there. Jag sheathed his machetes; no matter how angry he was right now, this was a time for good impressions. He could take his anger out on some civilians later. "Best behavior, guys. We need his help," Jag reminded the others. Smasher took the second position behind Jag. If any surprise attacks came, best for him and Jag to take the brunt of it. Metalmech stayed outside to keep guard along with Bangarang. Jag burst through the door, past the guards. "I am Black Jaguar, leader of the Destructors. I've heard of you, Dragoon, and would like to request some aid," Jag announced. He saw that he had burst into a conversation with a couple of pirates, one male, big, stereotypical pirate, and a thinner girl, probably a lover. Dragoon himself had his famous Horsemen assembled as well as Affinity, his liaison. Right now, Jag didn't care that the pirate was probably pissed to high Calamity. Dragoon wouldn't allow him to get in a brawl right here in his city, and Jag had had to wait and he had lost and he had rarely felt this angry and frustrated. He made sure he had a clear path to the door in case he needed to run and stared down Dragoon with all the kindness he could force out.

Edited October 20, 2015 by Mailliw73

[mail-mi he/him]

"Your secretary told us the gist of it. You want to rule Astoria, but don’t want your hands dirty when it comes to killing Bloody Mary, since she’ll see you coming. And you don’t want us to pillage the city while we kill everyone." Blackwave didn't seem to like that very much, though Dragoon didn't see why. He got to kill everyone, wasn't that enough? If it were me, I'd be plenty happy with just killing the people. "Pay’s already been discussed," he continued. "We just need to know your plan of attack. When and where do you want us?" 

 

Dragoon considered his strategy. If he had his thoughts gathered right, they'd be able to take--

 

Someone burst through the doors. HEY! Dragoon thought. You interrupted my train of thought! The man, followed by two others, ran right through the guards that were supposed to prevent this sort of thing. I'll have to see to their punishment--probably execution, but I may save one and only cut off his arm or something. He filed it away to be dealt with later. 

 

"I am Black Jaguar, leader of the Destructors. I've heard of you, Dragoon, and would like to request some aid." The first one--"Black Jaguar"--seemed to be leader, and he was the main speaker of the group, apparently. He forced a smile at Dragoon, but Dragoon could tell he was as impatient and pissed as sparks. 

 

Too bad. You don't get to play if you break the rules. 

 

"RUDE!" Dragoon shouted out, shocking those who hadn't lived around him for the past few years. "Can't you see that we were in a meeting?! Simply and plainly rude." He shook his head in disapproval, then looked over at the pirates. "I'm sorry, I seem to have lost my train of thought. You see what barging in on a meeting does to a man?" he said, shooting a child-like glare at Black Jaguar. "Now, Blackwave was it? Yes, for our attack on Astoria! I want to pull of this attack as soon as possible, and you--being pirates--will take care of everything around the river."

[Mailliw73 he/him]

 

Dragoon yelled at Jag, then ignored him petulantly, as if a child. This man was nothing like Jag had been led to expect. But if he could lend the supplies and aid the Destructors needed, he'd be fine. When he mentioned Astoria, Jag broke into the conversation again. 

 

"Astoria? Coincidentally, that coincides perfectly with our plans. The Destructors and our new Aussie friends planned to attack the city as well. We came here to petition for supplies and find aid. These pirates should do nicely," Jag said. "There's six of us, we just need some weapon upgrades, criminals for our army, and vehicles. That's all we ask." Hawkwing would be impressed with Jag's diplomatic talk, instead of his typical threatening. As long as Smasher didn't speak, they should be fine. 

 

Black Jaguar looked over to the pirates for the first time since entering. The brute leader looked furious with Jag for bursting in on his discussion. Well, he could accept Jag or leave himself. His female counterpart was more attractive than Jag had first noticed. Her attitude proclaimed danger underneath a mask of an easygoing, freewilled, cheerful girl. He liked it. But, if she was the pirate's, then he'd leave her alone. He didn't need love or even pleasure. He was here to take over Astoria. Pleasures came after duty. 

[Edgedancer he/him]

Before Dragoon had a chance to tell Blackwave of his strategy the meeting was interrupted by a group of landlubbers forcing their way in. All for a clumsy request for help, some people just don’t understand the way business works. With some luck Blackwave would get to see how much his allies were actually worth and how much of most of the work he and his crew would have to get done themselves.

 

Instead of any impressive display of power, or even a not embarrassing one, Dragoon only showed how loud he could scream. Proofing that that he wasn’t in his mid-life crisis after all, he was simply an Epic man-child. But he was an Epic man-child with money, meaning that the captain could suffer through it, as long as they got back to business. His fortune be blessed, along with the outbreak also came ignoring the Black Jaguar and Dragoon started with the explanation of his plan.

 

Said topic lead to Jaguar interjecting himself back into the conversation, modestly only asking to have his entire team funded in advance. Doing the same as Dragoon, Blackwave simply ignored the muscle head. It seemed like a fair amount of attention for the guy. The only thing he bothered to take note of was how he looked at Wandersail. She should be able to deal with him herself but he’d be sure to offer help with organizing a burial at sea.

 

“We can take the river, should be easy enough” Blackwave said to Dragoon. “Any resistance in particular my crew should be preparing for or is it just the obligatory first step before we can start going on land?”

[Voidus]

Collab post by Voidus and Aonar

After the third time that Sparkles had teleported right in front of him he gave up any hope of leaving her behind and continuing on alone.

Instead he turned the volume on his playlist up as loud as it would go and rearranged his ears around the buds until they sealed off all sound. If he was going to have to put up with it then he might as well at least get some silence while doing so.

The inside of the tower seemed completely surreal, the unanimous black rendered much of the towers detailing obsolete, all that could be seen everywhere was the same monotonous black.

He continued on, doing his best to ignore his shining companion until they reached an open room, near the top of the tower, readying his various weapons Bioterror made his best attempt at stealth as he slowly entered, the room was sparsely furnished, a smattering of chairs and a table, both of them dwarfed by the large man occupying the rest of the room, he stood facing the entrance as though expecting them.

This is why we don’t light up entire buildings like christmas trees. Bioterror silently scolded his companion. Well I assume this is one of the ones we’re supposed to take care of, might as well get on with it.

He eyed the man from the door, activating his ability as powerfully as he could he tried to destroy his nervous system but as expected the man did not instantly collapse.

Epic then, that’ll take a few minutes to work but in the meantime.

His arm-blades began to secrete a poisonous substance, it wasn’t any faster than his power was on an Epic but it’d guarantee the man’s death even if he got out of Bioterror’s range.

He charged for the Epic just as his playlist switched to Battle of the heroes.

 

Midnight waited calmly, hands in his pockets, as several more flashes of light came from below. A small smile played about his features.  While their go-to plan wasn’t as… personal, as he liked, it was always amusing to see what was left over.

 

Eventually, their unexpected guests showed themselves. A man and a woman, both obviously Epics. The man was strangely deformed, with reptilian features and razor-edged bone spurs in place of hands. The woman wore translucent golden armour, seemingly made from light itself.  A fleshwarper and a light manipulator? Sparks. The thoughts came over Nightshade’s mental link.

 

They paused a moment, and Midnight winced, a sudden headache coming on. The fleshwarper rushed forwards, bone blades at the ready. Raising a hand, Midnight snapped his fingers, and everything went black.

 

 

Nightshade spoke suddenly, breaking their tense silence. “One of them’s a light manipulator, certainly. Is the plan still going to work?”

 

A flicker of annoyance passed across Darkquake’s face. “It’ll have to. If we can catch them off guard, we should be able to slow them until Az arrives, even if we can’t kill them.”

 

“Then you’re on.” The inside of the tower went dark as he spoke.  Stretching out a hand, Darkquake touched the shadow’s surface. It instantly solidified under his fingers, before starting to buck and writhe like a living thing. A muffled crunching could be heard from within, and sweat started to bead on Darkquake’s face. Solidifying this volume of shadow was difficult at the best of times, and artificial darkness was always harder to effect. After another moment he pulled his hand away, breathing heavily.

 

The room slowly lightened as Midnight stepped outside, looking pale and drawn. Almost as one, they turned towards the door, trying to see what remained.

 

Bioterror cursed mentally as the room was suddenly blanketed in darkness. His eye-contact was broken which meant he lost his connection to the Epic he was trying to kill.

Stupid lightbulb-Epic can’t even keep the room lit.

He felt no feedback as he swung his arms through where the Epic had been standing. No matter, he’d have to wait til the Epic tried to attack him and go by his other senses.

Suddenly the air around him seemed to become almost solid as waves of energy began to pass through it, cascading against Bioterrors body, shattering some of his weaker bones and crushing his flesh.

The sudden pressure vanished as quickly as it had begun and the room began to lighten, he collapsed onto all fours as his bones and flesh began to rewind, one of his eyes had been forced out from the pressure but quickly soared back into its socket.

He stood up as he was made whole again before cracking his neck to one side.

“Ow.”

A subtle flash from behind announced the return of Sparkles who had presumably managed to teleport out before she got squished.

“Our turn then?” He asked, not bothering to turn around to address the irritating light manipulator.

 

He didn’t leave her a chance to respond either, he’d regained feeling in his limbs, that was enough.

He charged forwards once more, enhancing his hearing and sense of smell in case they knocked out the lights again.

 

A bright flash revealed the room. The light manipulator stood unharmed, as expected, and the bloody pulp that had been her companion slowly pulled itself together, not showing any sign of the damage it had underwent.

 

“Crap.” Darkquake blinked, trying to make sure of what he was seeing. “High Epics, then. We’ll just have to stall.”

 

Nightshade mumbled to himself momentarily, communicating something to Azrael. After a moment, he grimaced, his gaze refocusing.  “Az isn’t answering.”

 

The fleshwarper finished pulling himself back together, and charged again. A crack split the air, and a figure suddenly inhabited the door, wreathed in shadow.

[Edgedancer he/him]

Collab post by Voidus, Edgedancer and Aonar

 

After her talk with the Metal, Bloody Mary withdrew herself into her chambers. Her main attention, at least for the morning, would be on the new newcomers attempt to retake the tower, as well as its new shadow duplicate. Instead of her usual pool used to overlook as much of the city as possible, she simply pulled a wall of blood in front of her to use her blood in Brightdeath to observe their situation. She also had multiple pillar mounted bowls arranged around her to at least keep a rudimentary overlook of the city, in case anything important happened.

 

The Epics that created the duplicate did manage to kill the group that inhabited the original one before; as such they would most likely be able to put up some amount of a fight, even if Bioterror and Brightdeath turned out to be competent. Preparations for a hopefully good show were in place. Given that Mary was not a popcorn person, she instead settled for chocolate crossies as her snack of choice.    

 

While the two made their way up the tower, Mary scanned the surroundings as best as she could. Interestingly enough she found another pair of newcomers making their way towards the tower. For now, Mary would keep tabs on them, in case they did anything suspicious.

 

Not long after came their first encounter with the enemy. Essentially, they stepped right into a trap. Not very surprising, given how Brightdeath announced their presence but also not exactly impressive as far as first outings go but their powers did manage to protect them, with Brightdeath simply creating more light to cancel the darkness that tried to surround her and Bioterror managing to pull himself back together, quite literally so, the way his eyeballs returned to its socket was actually fairly amusing.

 

Doing what a good little minion should do, the two high Epics gave chase to their opponents. Before they even managed to leave the room, a shadowy figure appeared in front of them. Seems like the entertaining part was about to start, Mary thought as she took a piece of her chocolate.

 

Azrael paused, taking in the scene. The light manipulator Nightshade had shown him stood off to the side, a smug smile on her face. The fleshwarper was charging towards him, bony swords extended. Azrael allowed his black wings to materialize, spreading from his back. A dark sword leapt into his hand, jagged and roughly formed, but wickedly sharp. “Stop.”

The fleshwarper continued, unfazed. Azrael flicked his sword through the air, sending bands of shadow flying, lifting the Epic into the air and pinning him against the far wall. “That was not a request. Name yourselves, and explain to me your purpose here.”

 

Bioterror was suddenly pinned against a wall by bands of darkness as this latest arrival addressed him cooly.

A full on shadow manipulator? Huh. Haven’t seen one of those before. Well I suppose this works to my advantage anyway.

Bioterror unfocussed his eyes somewhat, allowing him to see all the enemy Epics simultaneously, though not very clearly. But his ability didn’t require clear vision, just the knowledge of where his opponent was.

He activated his ability on all the Epics present other than Sparkles and began stalling for time as he slowly melted their brains.

“I go by Bioterror for now, the annoying brat I call Sparkles.”

Five seconds down, a few minutes to go.

He didn’t bother trying to struggle against his bonds, he could just cut himself up and slip out of them if needed but then he’d need to fight them and he might lose eye contact again.

“As for our purpose, well I saw a big dark evil tower and I just felt like checking it out. You know, take a tour and all.”

A box of light suddenly formed around the shadow manipulators head, cutting off Bioterrors direct line of sight to that Epic, which meant he needed to start all over again.

Bloody Sparkles.

 

Insolent fool. As Azrael was about to show Bioterror the price of his flippancy, his vision was obscured by a box, seemingly made of light. Instinctively, Azrael sent fine threads of shadow throughout the room, restoring a sense of his immediate surroundings. Outwardly, his gave no reaction, standing utterly calm and still. A few words coalesced in the air in front of him. Good try. Nowhere near good enough, however.

Forming a small amount of darkness inside his mouth, he threw it against the box, shattering it. “Now, back to business. It seems clear that the pair of you are either liars, or fools, and I tolerate neither.” Waving his sword again, he sent twin lances of shadow streaking towards the Epics. The light manipulator disappeared with a flash of light, the spear thudding harmlessly into the back wall. Bioterror was not so lucky. The lance struck him solidly in the midsection, burying itself in the wall behind him. Azrael clicked his fingers, and it broke apart, wires of shadow corkscrewing through his body, rending muscle and bone alike.

As the fleshwarper pulled himself back together, panting, Azrael spoke again. “Now, tell me the truth. Why are you here?”

“Well it’s not for the hospitality.” Bioterror replied scathingly.

For the third time he focussed his power on the Epic before him. This time he would not lose the connection. If he focussed on his knowledge of where the Epic was it should hold even if he was blinded or torn apart again.

“You want the truth? Fine, we were sent here to murder everyone in the tower, I intended to do this so I could have a safe position in the city where I didn’t have to murder a dozen people just to get what I wanted. You seem to stubbornly desire to keep on living so I guess that leaves us with a bit of a problem doesn’t it?”

Sparkles still hadn’t ported back it seemed. Bioterror hoped she stayed out of his way long enough that he could kill this shadowy slontze.

He allowed some flesh to ooze over his arm-swords as he slowly reformed the skeletal structure into something more resembling his normal arms. It didn’t seem that those crude weapons would suffice for this. He’d have to use one of his older tricks if things were going to get serious.

 

[TwiLyghtSansSparkles she/her]

“Alright then,” the Metal said, “if you say so that means it is cult time now. Let us depart!”

 

The Financier’s eye twitched at the Metal’s choice of words. Technically speaking, the Church of the Singularity was a cult. Pre-Calamity guidelines had made one million the bare minimum membership requirement before a belief system could be considered a religion, and the Church had one. But that was necessary. The closer membership numbers came to seven, the more suspicious the One would become. If only one member were reported, the Church of the Singularity could continue its mission.

 

His stomach rumbled, reminding him of what he’d forgotten.

 

“The Fragrant Blossoms! Come, we are needed elsewhere!”

 

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

 

The holy site wasn’t a distant walk from the distribution center, but the Financier cursed every step. How could he have left his priestesses so long? What if the One had finally made good on his promise to dismantle every reminder of Savior Zero’s power and destroyed the site?

 

He saw it up ahead, still intact, and laughed in relief before hurrying to the door. He didn’t run, or jog, lest he lose his top hat.

 

Finally, he reached the doors, multiplied the locks by zero, and burst through. The aroma of frying chicken and mashed potatoes reached his nose immediately. 

 

“Greetings, my Fragrant Blossoms! The Savior smiles upon you and this most sacred of KFCs!"

[RippleGylf she/her]

 

Sunlight shone on the former park, a patch of green now isolated amongst the shining city. The garden mumbled with the sounds of workers diligently harvesting the various foodstuffs.

Lightwood peered over the field of plants before her from her tall, home-grown wooden tower.  Bursts of color from more exotic varieties popped from the mass of green foliage. Regardless of colour, every plant was unique in this garden. Pink pomegranates and blood-red strawberries grew side by side. From here, the entire city’s food supply was made. At least, as far as plants go. No one had yet figured out how to grow hamburgers, as far as she was aware. Still, she provided as many sorts of fruits and vegetables as she knew.

A grand gathering like this happened only every week or so. Some plants she could grow in an instant, but getting a guava tree to grow in a week took a lot more concentration. Even with all of her efforts, there were a few of Astoria’s other epics who wondered why she grew so much tropical fruit. Alright, the durians may have been a bad idea, but why would anyone want pears instead of mangoes? Pears were absolute rubbish. Sure, she grew a couple varieties anyways, but only at the request of Lucentia. That, and according to the ever so wonderful Financier, they were evil. She could hardly resist growing them if it meant annoying the delusional mathematician.

 

Returning her thoughts to the task at hand, Lightwood looked over the plants, making sure that they were all ripened to perfection. Satisfied, she blankly watched all of the powerless workers painstakingly picking the fruit. None of them would dare to disappoint. She enjoyed these moments where she could just look into the distance and think of nothing whatsoever. Before too long, however, her wonderful moments of nothing turned to boredom, and her mind returned to the Financier. In this wonderful world that grew to her liking, for the most part, why did there have to be so many idiots? She didn’t need any stupid mathematicians to tell her how to organize a garden. If she wanted seven rows of plants, she was going to grow seven rows. Murmuring, her gaze turned into a glare at the very thought of the encounter.

One by one, the workers began to leave the garden, their work complete. Soon, Lightwood would have to oversee the shipment to the stocking center, which meant another pleasant meeting with the Financier. Sighing, she climbed down from her wooden throne and started toward the fruit truck.

[Citadel16 he/him]

 

 

Antimatter walked into a bar.

                Antimatter thought that was funny, because if antimatter had actually touched the bar it would have exploded into a twenty-three-ish megaton blast that would have leveled the entire countryside, killing millions in an instant and theoretically making the entire state of Oregon uninhabitable by humans.

                That was funny.

                Right?

                To phrase it differently an epic who called himself Antimatter walked into a rather respectable establishment that only watered down its drinks by about seventy percent. A Blasting miracle that was these days.

                The guy Antimatter was looking for was where he always was, at the counter, doing his best to flirt without using his powers. The guy was barely reliable half the time, and Antimatter was beginning to wonder if keeping him around was worth the trouble.

                Anyway, he said something offensive, and the girl he was chatting with stormed off, a look of disgust on her face. That was usually how a conversation with Harkness went.

                Harkness however wasn’t done for the evening. He turned to the women on his right and with a big grin began to say:

                “Hi! I’m Jack-“

                That was as far as he got.

                Antimatter grabbed Harkness’s head and a surge of light exploded in the air where he had been sitting.

                Just as fast as it had arrived, the light faded and neither Harkness nor the chair he’d been sitting on were anywhere to be seen. Which was a pity, it had been a fine looking chair.

                “Out,” Antimatter said in a loud voice, and the entire bar cleared, except the bartender, whom Antimatter had ordered to stay as he’d tried to leave.

                “Well that was well done now wasn’t it?”

                Antimatter turned around to see Harkness- yes, Harkness, whom he had removed from existence just moments ago-strutting towards him in his “swag” clothing. Which basically was his term for a fedora and dark sunglasses, which he claimed went with everything else he wore.

                “What’d you do this time? Roar like a lion? Or did your stench scare them away?”

                Antimatter resisted the urge to incinerate him again. He seemed to do that a lot these days. Better to avoid establishing habits.

                “What do you know,” Antimatter said through gritted teeth “about the Epics in this region?”

                “Well, Astoria is kinda’ a screwy place.” He said “Who do you want to know about?”

                Antimatter absently cracked his neck. Some people, or rather, some epics would have turned, looked at him creepily and smiled.

                Antimatter wasn’t one for smiling.

                “You know which one of them.”

 

                Lockheed. A rather dense slontze, or so Antimatter remembered. Both literally and figuratively. Unfortunately for Lockheed, he was on his list, the list Antimatter made once the group he was part of betrayed him and put a hollow point slug in his head.

                Antimatters list had fifteen people on it. Every last one an epic that had once followed and eventually betrayed him.

                For money, of all things under Calamity.

                Regardless, they were all scattered now, off to follow some poor fool or rule their own little fiefdom on the edge of hell. Lockheed however was a wanderer, moving around wherever the wind took him. Antimatter was hunting those types first, as they would be harder to find the more Antimatter lost track of them.

                Antimatter was sitting in a dark alley, one connected to a main road. The building next to him was another bar, one that Lockheed frequently visited in the evenings. So Antimatter sat, a rag sheet draped over his back that he had killed a beggar for. Not on purpose though, it had kinda’ just… happened.

                The details were not important. What was important was when Lockheed stepped in front of the alleyway, Antimatter was already lunging at him reaching for his throat with bare fingers, no epic powers, not yet. He needed to see his face first.

                “Yah!” he flung himself backwards, avoiding Antimatter’s grip, instead stumbling to the cold street at his feet. Antimatter raised his hand, palm upward. A small light flickered there, pulsating, almost the same rhythm as Antimatter’s heartbeat.

                It was a simple trick, really. Antimatter could change the size of the explosions he caused. Making them smaller also gave them a faster recharge rate. Enough for a steady light similar to the flickering of a candle.

                Thing was it illuminated Antimatter’s face.

                Lockheed’s eyes widened “You!” he climbed to his feet, “You’re dead!”

                “I am dead,” Antimatter said, twisting his palm out towards him. “You’ve just joined me.”

                Drama is so sparking useful when scaring the crap out of someone who had killed you before. Few people realized this.

                “The hell I am.” There was a buzz in the air, and the ground cracked as Lockheed shot into the air at sonic speeds.

                Antimatter grunted and activated his secondary power, immediately Lockheed’s flight path was lit up in yellow, along with a red line that was what Antimatter could calculate to be his next move.

                To dive into the ground at Mach speed a mere three feet from him.

                Lockheed’s powers came in two parts. One: he could fly at Mach speeds with an immediate acceleration to his top speed and two: the faster he went, the denser he becomes.

                Both literally and figuratively.

                Antimatter dove to the side just as Lockheed hit the ground with the force of a meteorite. Coming up in a roll, antimatter blocked pieces of rock from his face with the hem of his jacket. He spun to face the other epic.

                Lockheed looked around his little crater, as if he was wondering why there was no blood or Antimatter pancake lying on the ground.

                “Three years and you’re just as stupid as ever.” Antimatter thrust out his hand.

                The explosion was as deafening as it was blinding. It flared out from his outraised hand. Ripping in every direction at once except towards him. Then with a sound like rushing wind it snapped back into Antimatter’s hand.

                Then with another deafening roar, the trapped energy slammed into Lockheed in a torrent of energy.

                It was over in an instant.

                Antimatter blinked, everything was black from the flash. Normally he would be wearing sunglasses, and it would be brighter outside, but…

                Ouch.

                His eyes adjusted, slowly. The ground where Lockheed had been standing was bright red. Lockheed himself was nowhere to be found.

                Because he’d died.

                Nine names to go…

Edited January 21, 2016 by warriormark16

[Citadel16 he/him]

 

Ragnarok smashed through the wall at a speed he swore was Mach three.

 

                “Flip,” he said, climbing to his feet through the rubble. “This is unfortunate.”

 

                He turned as he saw the Epic charge for him like a rhino. A stupid rhino, with his head held low. Brute was just that, a Brute.

 

                Ragnarok shook himself free of some of the dust. This was ridiculous. He was restricted. His hand was tied behind his back. He couldn’t kill Brute at this moment. He had explicit orders not to.

 

                That didn’t mean he couldn’t rough him up a bit.

 

                Ragnarok threw his hand out towards the charging moron, a red net of fire-lightning-like energy twisting around his arm. His telekinesis was like that.

 

                Ragnarok grabbed the Epic from twenty feet away and smashed him into the ground, the concrete thoroughly smashed from the force of it. Then the building to his left with a similar force, then right, left, right, down, down, down.

 

                He raised the epic into the air, his clothing tattered from the beating. Ragnarok opened his mouth to speak.

 

                Then changed his mind and repeated the beating process. A few moments later, he raised the epic into the air again.

 

                “Hey, are you done struggling?” Ragnarok asked, “I’m getting bored,”

 

                “I refuse to take orders from a child,” Brute said.

 

                “I’m not a child!” he smashed the Epic down one more time. Brute was a strength Epic. Could lift a building off the ground and swing it like baseball bat, but like most Epics of his power type never realized, strength was nearly useless against a telekinetic- or TK as he liked to call it-holding them in the air.

 

                Brute was also invulnerable.

 

                Classic.

 

                “It’s not me the orders will be coming from, but the one whose orders I follow.” Ragnarok dropped the Epic, walking forward towards him until he stood above him, at the edge of the crater. “Stormeggeddon holds that position herself.”

 

                “Stormeggeddon can sparking go to-,” Rag never heard what was next, only the roar as Brute launched himself towards him with startling force. Ragnarok met him halfway, grabbing his arms with strength enhanced by his TK. The air cracked with the force of it, and Ragnarok was forced onto one knee.

 

                Crap. Ragnarok twisted his shoulders, using the other Epic’s own weight against him as he threw him to the ground. He couldn’t let this be a close quarters fight where Brute’s superior strength would be the more deciding factor.

 

                He leapt back as bright red threads of fire-lightning surged from his body, connecting from one limb to another like charged tesla coils. Mid-air, Ragnarok flipped once before coming to a stop flying a dozen or so feet above the ground.

 

                “This is your last chance, Brute!” Ragnarok shouted “Join or die!”

 

                With a shout, Brute leapt towards Ragnarok with a super-strength enhanced jump. Ragnarok moved to grab him out of the air with his TK, but he lost focus as Brute hit him with the force of a cannon.

 

                Ragnarok growled as they were both launched into the air at incredible speed. The ground flying away beneath their feet as they passed through clouds and into the coldness of the sky. He shoved Brute away with his enhanced TK strength and he shot away. Ragnarok grabbed the Epic with his external TK and yanked Brute towards him, he swung a fist and smashed it into Brute’s face.

 

                 Brute shouted in defiance and hit him in the chest, splitting the two of them apart.

 

                The wind roared passed Ragnarok’s ears, and he felt at once the lifting of some bond on his mind, he felt free to move. Free to act.

 

                Free to kill.

 

                He grabbed Brute again with his TK and threw him towards the ground, now hundreds if not a thousands of feet underneath them, with every last bit of his willpower. The Epic shot towards the ground like a rocket.

 

                With an enraged growl, Ragnarok blasted towards him, trailing threads of red energy behind him. He would not allow his prey to escape. Not this time.

 

                Soaring towards the ground, Ragnarok fired a shot of telekinetic energy, a punch of his will and mind, towards the falling Brute, accelerating his speed until he heard a deafening BOOM!

 

                They passed the barrier of the clouds, and saw the open water below them. He was going too fast and before he could react, he hit the water, hard.

 

 

 

 

                Antimatter popped his neck. He’d been up all night after his “battle” with Lockheed, and he sorely needed a bath, some sleep, and preferably a hot meal.

 

                He took a few steps to the bar that he and Harkness had been using as a base since his arrival. He yawned as he opened the door to the establishment.

 

                There was a resounding CRACK! That split the morning air and Antimatter spun to see what had caused it. It took him a moment to see the red streak fall from the sky.

 

                What the…

 

                “Damnation Epics,” he muttered. And entered the bar.

 

                Antimatter walked back into the bar.

 

                He still thought that was a little funny.

 

                Harkness was still where Antimatter had left him, seated on a replacement stool. Though instead of flirting he was in a rigid looking conversation with a familiar face.

 

                “Neutrality! You rascal,” Antimatter said, striding up to the counter wearing a scowl on his face. “What in the world are you doing here?” he held out his hand and Neutrality shook it.

 

                “I’m merely passing through.” He took a drink of his mug, then grunted.

 

                “How goes your hunt?”

 

                Antimatters scowl deepened. “What do you know about that?”

 

                “Just a rumor on the wind,” Neutrality said with a dismissive gesture, “Wouldn’t even be able to confirm it, if I hadn’t known an Epic with explosion powers who could take a grudge down to his grave.”

 

                “How extensive are these rumors?”

 

                “Not, just that Decisiveness was killed by someone with your power portfolio just west of Newcago.”

 

                “Crap,” Antimatter said “Why have you come here?”

 

                “Well,” Neutrality said thoughtfully. “Salem wasn’t really doing it for me, Soulcaster got on my nerves. That sort of thing.”

 

                “Really?”

 

                “Also,” Neutrality said slowly “I’ve received news that Renegade is coming to Astoria.”

 

                Antimatter blinked. “What?” he shoved Harkness, who was being uncharacteristically quiet, to the ground and took his chair.

 

                “Hey!” and immediately Antimatter felt a twinge of guilt. He immediately turned to Harkness.

 

                 “Stop it,” he said and the guilt faded.

 

                “What about Renegade?” Antimatter snapped.

 

                It was Neutrality’s turn to scowl. “Antimatter, you know how this works.” He said, “You need to do something for me first.”

 

                There was a long pause.

 

                “What. Do. You. Want,” Antimatter growled.

 

                “I haven’t decided. But I’ll give you a call.” Neutrality stood up. “Don’t bother telling me your number. I already know it. I also know however that I want something done here, in Astoria. So don’t wander off. It will also be quite some time before Renegade shows up. So keep yourself entertained,” Neutrality’s eyes lit up. “I know you’re good at that,”

 

                “I don’t enjoy killing, Neutrality.” Antimatter said softly, “Never have.”

 

                Neutrality chuckled. “Could have fooled me, you have as much blood on your hands as Steelheart and you know it.”

 

                Antimatter said nothing.

                Neutrality chuckled again. “I’ll keep in touch. I’m fairly certain there is going to be some good action around here. Lots of powerful Epics converging.” He turned to leave. “I’m sad I’ll miss it.”

 

                He left without another word.

 

                Harkness growled and began swearing like a sailor “What was that about! He could have permanently killed either of us without making much of a fuss about it. I’d rather stay returnable if you don’t mind.”

 

                Antimatter shook his head. “Neutrality doesn’t work that way. He prefers manipulation to brute force.”

 

                “The moron negated my powers, Matt. That’s not something you do in polite company.”

 

                “Don’t call me Matt!” he said lifting a hand and blowing off his head with a small blast of energy that sent Harkness reeling. Antimatter’s blasts were always more silent than he thought they should be. Something he thought was due to the fact that he redirected most of the sound in the explosion.

 

                ‘It must be deafening to be shot in the face for invulnerability Epics’ he thought for not the first time and as the bar emptied again because of him.

[Aonar he/him]

Collaboration post by Voidus, Edgedancer, and myself.

 

“Who sent you?” Azrael prepared another spear of darkness, holding it lightly in his free hand, as something intruded on his consciousness. We have a problem, Azrael. Something’s happening; poison, maybe. Probably the fleshwarper. We need to get out.

 

Azrael sighed in irritation. Of course. “I’ll be back. Sit tight.” With a thought, he filled the room with darkness, expanding Bioterror’s bonds into a full body cast.

 

Stepping outside, he called enough shadow to cover the whole group, and shifted them to an outbuilding at the base of the tower, before sending himself back. Dismissing enough darkness for Bioterror to see and speak, he continued. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Who exactly sent you here, and why?”

 

Bloody Mary was right in her assumption that things would get interesting, even if it would have been preferable if Bioterror and Brightdeath were the ones tossing their opponent around. It still made for a nice show to watch while eating her snacks.

 

Given how Brightdeath had barely managed to stay in the room before her teleportation moved her to safety, Mary had to draw out a little bit of blood from her just before the shadow lance send her away.

 

She made it trickle towards the Epics working for the shadow manipulator, slowly as to avoid them noticing it. A bit too slow it turned out, as the Epic in charge managed to relocate them before she reached even one of them. Just to be save, Mary scanned across the city to see if they appeared anywhere she could tell but they had the sense to relocate to somewhere without any people around. Another thing to keep in mind but at the very least Mary should be able to tell if they tried to enter the tower again.

 

By the time the room was bright enough for Bioterror to see again the other Epics had disappeared. A teleporter as well as a shadow manipulator then. That could be somewhat difficult.

Even his enhanced muscles hadn’t managed to break free of the bonds that had encased his body, but there was always another way.

He reabsorbed his arm bones into his body, leaving two appendages which could do very little but he needed the extra material.

Solid matter like bones didn’t compress very well, which meant they could exert quite a lot of pressure if he directed it all into one place.

A bright flash lit the room as Sparkles appeared again, this time teleporting in right behind the shadow warper who she promptly stabbed in the back.

Well I would have preferred to do it but can’t argue with results I guess.
 

Azrael felt something tear through the cloak on his back, and prick his skin, before catching. Under his hood he grimaced, and swept his wings backwards, sending the light manipulator scurrying away again with the threat of razored feathers. “Once again, that was a fair attempt, but by no means enough. I begin to tire of these games. Do not draw this out longer than is necessary.”

The Epic continued on unfazed, swatting Brightdeath off as though she were nothing but a fly.

A healer? damnation it. Change of plans then.

Bioterror stopped the rush of calcium that was being directed to his ribs, he could feel the pressure on his bones and it seemed that he’d break his own ribs by the time he managed to burst the restraints placed on him.

But he had complete control over his body, there was no way that restraints like these could hold him.

His entire body began to reform under cover of the restraints, flesh sliding around as it restructured itself by his whims.

“Fine. No games, let’s get this over with quickly. Do you know how fast a Death Adder can strike?”

Bioterror grinned, his teeth sharpened to points gleamed in the darkened room.

In a bare fraction of a second his head suddenly leapt out, propelled by the coils of muscle he’d formed underneath. His jaw locked onto the epics arm just below his shoulder, venom dripping from the corners of his mouth as coils of flesh began to loop around the arm.

Because I can move even faster than they can.

 

Azrael looked down at the fleshwarper winding its way around his arm with cool disinterest. This has gone on too long.

 

“I must admit, the speed and versatility to your ability to change your body is quite impressive.” He winced slightly as Bioterror’s coils pulled tighter. His body was resilient enough to withstand hundreds of times more force without injury, but he still felt the pain.

 

“Healing, though, I have learned through painful experience, can only go so far, before it is overcome. Sure, you may not die. But you will wish you had.” Slivers of darkness forced their way through Bioterror’s body, cutting the Epic apart as much as prying it off. Even as he started to reform, Azrael prepared to strike again, wings and weapons shattering into fine needles of shadow. “Goodbye, Bioterror. Pray we do not meet again, else I may find a more permanent solution to you.”

 

The cloud of darkness leapt forwards, driving into Bioterror’s deformed flesh. Red mist filled the air, as scraps of meat went flying throughout the room. Partitions of shadow slammed down, preventing what was left from joining back into a whole.  

 

One problem solved. The light manipulator was still at large, but she seemed considerably less tenacious in her attempts to inconvenience him. If absolutely necessary, she could be banished for long enough relocate to a less conspicuous location.

 

The Adventurer watched the ensuing fight with interest, that one guy had some kind of skill to change his whole body which was pretty cool but the other one was some kind of high-level mage, he had a blink spell as well as a series of darkness-based attacks.

The fight had ended abruptly when one of them was blown into pieces, his body then getting separated even as it tried to join together again.

“Huh. One of them has some kind of infinite regeneration. Wonder if it’s a hack.” He said to Lockvault.

“Is it over yet?” His companion asked, the Adventurer had nearly forgotten that Lockvault couldn’t see the minimap like he could. But he almost felt like he could show it to him. Maybe if he…

“Ah. There we go how’s that?” The Adventurer asked as a small dimly lit hologram appeared before him, showing the scene taking place in the other room.

“What the? Was that a person exploding?” Lockvault asked as the Adventurer tried to recreate what he’d seen before.

“Yeah I think so, pretty cool wasn’t it? Still High level mage and I think he was in a party. Might be difficult to take with just the two of us.”

“Yeah maybe we should er.. fall back and try to get a party before we clear this boss.” Lockvault said.

“Yeah maybe. Still I’d better go check it out solo first, one life isn’t much of a loss and I’ll get to test his abilities up close.”

Before Lockvault could raise a hand to stop him the Adventurer placed a hand on the wall and phased through, entering the room with the two other players.

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

It had been a while since someone had tried to blow Bioterror up. He’d almost forgotten how disorienting it was to suddenly have his consciousness spread throughout such a large area.

He could feel his body beginning to coalesce, though parts of it were now separated by some kind of solid construct. Likely the shadow manipulators doing.

A new presence suddenly entered the room, seeming to come right through the wall.

One of his other friends again? No matter, the timing is fortuitous.

Bioterror gathered what mass he could and began inching his way towards the new presence.

 

After a bit more scuffling, it seemed that Bioterror’s relentlessness finally managed drive the shadow Epic far enough and he concentrated all his effort on keeping the fleshwarper from reassembling himself. With him concentrating on his handiwork, Mary moved her blood in from behind him and tried to inject a little bit through his skin but the Epics healing was strong enough to push it out of his before she managed to reach blood.

 

One of the two Epics spectating from the next room teleported into the battle and just a moment later Mary noticed Brightdeath’s position shifting again. It was all the warning she got as the room exploded into light. Countless of small suns appeared all over the room and immediately shoot at the shadow manipulator from all directions, enveloping everything in a blinding light. With the brightness impairing her vision Mary needed a moment to recover, before she could access the damage done.

 

The room suddenly filled with light, near blinding to Azrael’s eyes. Then there was only pain. Small orbs of light came at him from all angles, some deflecting harmlessly while others struck true, breaking bone and shredding muscle. Azrael fell to his knees screaming, the sound dissonant, somehow inhuman. He didn’t think, couldn’t think, except to instinctively lash out against his attacker.

 

Shadow poured from his wounds and open mouth, filling the air around him with black mist.  Writhing tendrils of darkness exploded in all directions, blindly seeking out the light manipulator. Finding nothing, they eventually retracted, and the dark cloud spread, enveloping the room. Under the protective cover of darkness, Azrael replaced his shredded robes with dark armour, formfitting and featureless. There were no openings; within darkness this deep, there was no use for sight, and breathing was never something Azrael had found terribly necessary. Some of the wounds underneath his armour still burned where they hadn’t been properly cleaned of light, but the pain was fading fast.

 

Bioterror had just managed to latch on to the latest person to enter the room when a telltale flash announced Brightdeath’s return, this time she wasted no time before launching an all-out assault on the shadow-Epic.
Hopefully the light attack combined with Bioterrors continued assault on the Epics nerves would be enough to incapacitate him.

But Bioterror didn’t have time to find out, he’d barely registered the attack before a mass of shadows leapt through the room and he suddenly found himself outside the tower, his link to the shadow Epic now broken he tried to orient himself, he was still stuck to the leg of the new Epic, the one who’d seemed to come straight through the wall. A teleporter of some kind, perhaps one who could only transport through a solid object?

The two rapidly began falling, the teleporting Epic seeming almost as confused as Bioterror was at their sudden predicament. The Epic slapped a hand on a wall and he suddenly found himself back inside the tower, albeit on a lower floor than before.

Wasting no time he tore apart the fabric separating him from the Epics bare skin and tore into his flesh, the two flickered for a moment, his position on the Epic seeming to reverse as the Epic teleported to his other side but he could shift his body at a moments notice and he managed to tear open a gash in the Epics leg and inject him with a personal favourite poison.

Sorry little teleporter, I need your body for now.

The Epic gasped in surprise as pain flooded his body, but with such direct access Bioterror could produce an immense amount of toxin in a short time and the boy quickly fell to the floor, shaking before finally lying still.

Bioterror slipped over the corpse, thanking whatever gods still watched over the earth that he’d managed to find an Epic without any stronger defensive abilities. Though a normal human would have been better still.

He spread himself out as much as he could, covering the body before he began to release digestive enzymes, breaking down the cloth and skin of the body and allowing him to spread his own cells throughout it.

In a matter of seconds he felt a mental shift, he’d invaded the corpse enough that his power considered it a part of him rather than a separate body.

The body smiled as its face began to shift and change, morphing into a parody of Bioterrors own face, the muscles not quite sitting right on the skull.

Forgot how much work it takes. Ah well, with luck Sparkles took out the shadow.

He picked the body up off the ground, luckily some scraps of clothing had been left untouched when he’d consumed the body so there was a touch of modesty to it.

His blood still burned, a curious sensation of power and pain interwoven as he replaced the Epics old blood with his own. Two gifts from Calamity could not exist in the same body unfortunately, he’d eaten an Epic once before to see if he could gain their abilities but his powers weren’t compatible it seemed and he’d had to replace every blood cell in the body before it stopped burning him.

A form suddenly appeared before him, once more seeming to come up through the floor.

“You have a cannibal perk or something?” The Epic asked as he looked at his own former body.

Reincarnation? Sparks how many High Epics does this city have?

 

The brightness was replaced by darkness overlaying the room, leaving Bloody Mary for the most part only with the position of infected blood to tell what was going on. Brightdeath had again left the room and the Epic that had teleported into the room was gone as well, having moved just outside the tower.

 

Bioterror or at least the parts of him that were still moving she found along with the other Epic that had first moved them outside the tower and now back inside of it, moving through the wall a few floors lower. The piece of flesh that was Bioterror attacked the teleporter, quick and efficiently adding his victim’s flesh to his own.  

 

Deciding to their new employes at least a little bit of help, she contacted Brightdeath through a bit of blood she left in the cafe that Brightdeath had reappeared in after the last few times her danger sense was triggered, she’d have to organize the fool a more discrete place once this situation was dealt with.

 

Mary gave the light Epic directions on where to find her ally and shortly afterwards she was standing next to Bioterror and the resurrected Adventurer.  

 

Sparkles showed up soon after the other Epic had reincarnated and they both exchanged a quick glance of recognition.

“Someone you know then?” Bioterror asked, neither seemed too tense so they weren’t dire enemies at least but not exactly allies either.

“Met her in another quest.” The other Epic chimed in.

Quest?

Before he could clarify the situation movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, a dark mist descending down the stairs.

The unknown Epic stared at it for a moment before holding up one hand, which suddenly began to glow brightly as he held it up between him and the dark mist.

Two teleporting light manipulators? And a teleporting shadow manipulator, all in one city? Man what are the odds. Bioterror wondered idly

The Epic suddenly stopped, looking like he’d realized something and slapped a hand against a wall, vanishing once more.

“So what’s his deal?” Bioterror asked casually.

Brightdeath just shurgged. “No idea, some kind of crazy I met yesterday, said he was the Adventurer I think? But he was with someone el-”

The Adventurer reappeared again, this time accompanied by someone else, probably whoever Brightdeath had just been about to mention.

The mist had begun closing in on them and Bioterror had little desire to get stuck on it just now.

“Meet you on the ground.” He said before jumping out a nearby window, falling a few floors to the ground before feeling his legs snap.

Oh crap, forgot to enhance the bones when I took his body.

“So anyway.” Brightdeath said as she teleported next to him. “What’s with your face?”

“Shut up Sparkles.”

The Adventurer and his friend were a short distance away, having teleported down also it seemed. They were gesturing to each other rapidly with strange finger movements. Sign language?

“You guys here to help or do I need to eat you?” Bioterror threatened, allowing his teeth to become somewhat more pointed.

The two Epics looked darkly back at him, eyes threatening, seizing him up.

But finally the Adventurer’s companion shook his head and finger-signed back to his companion again.

“We won’t get in your way.” The Adventurer said. “We’re after the same boss and Lockvault says that he doesn’t mind partying up this once.”

This once? Someone not a fan of the government then. Bioterror mused. But that didn’t matter, he could crush them both later if needed, for now the shadow Epic was the more pressing issue, and if another light-manipulator was offering his assistance…

“Fine, I’m a healer so don’t worry about hitting me. If you help us take this guy out then I don’t care what you do after, if you turn on me then I’ll turn you into a soup.” Bioterror growled.

The two Epics both nodded.

Lockvault signed again for a few seconds before the Adventurer translated again.

 

“We’ll provide back up then.”
------------------------------------------------------------------
Be careful around these guys. Lockvault signed. They might turn on us if things go badly.

The Adventurer just shrugged back before replying. Don’t worry, just stick close and let me know if anything bad’s going to happen, I’ll travel us both out of there and we can just try again once we’ve leveled a few times.

Lockvault smiled at his new friend. His eccentricities were amusing but they also hid a sort of innocence that was rare in the Fractured States these days. The Adventurer was someone who he rarely had to worry about hiding hidden motivations. Not like these government Epics.

He narrowed his eyes at the two other Epics. Trying to guess their motivations. Brightdeath had seemed to be a new member of the government when they’d met yesterday, was this new Epic a mentor of some kind? Or was he new too? The Adventurer had said something about him having a cannibal perk, what was that supposed to mean? And that Epic they’d met the other day would be much better suited to hunting down Epics so why wasn’t he here?

Questions without answers but he’d have to leave them for now.

Brightdeath lightly touched Bioterror’s shoulder and the two vanished in a flash, back up to the room above.

Can you show me what’s happening again? Lockvault signed. We’ll wait and see what happens before we join in.

The Adventurer screwed up his eyes for a moment before a sudden light appeared between them, resolving into the room he’d seen before, though it was somewhat blurrier now, like a tv with bad reception.

 

Azrael stood still in the centre of the room, allowing his awareness slowly spread throughout the tower. He had encompassed the large majority of it without finding anything; hopefully that meant the insects bothering him had moved on to easier prey.

 

Almost in response to that thought, a pair a figures appeared a few feet behind him, roughly matching the profiles of Bioterror and the light manipulator. Azrael quickly ported himself a few meters away, and sealed all the entrances to the room. Alright. We’re done playing nice, now.

 

The light manipulator started gathering spheres of light to fling around the room. Azrael didn’t give her the chance. Twin rams made from darkness coalesced in an instant, one knocking Bioterror away from the woman, and the other banishing her from the room.

 

No sooner had Bioterror entered the room with the shadow manipulator than he’d been attacked with some form of blunt instrument. His flesh deformed around the solid shape, giving him an idea of its form before the force shattered his body. His cells scattered briefly before flying towards one of the pieces of himself that he’d been forced to leave earlier, creating a small eddy in the dark mist and allowing Bioterror to sense the room far more efficiently.

 

He gathered around a smooth black spear that had been placed around his eyeball when the Shadow Epic had blown him up earlier, with most of his mass gathered around it he felt the black sphere become a part of him, something his powers could affect.

Excellent.

He ripped a hole in the sphere to retrieve his eye, body already reforming. Suddenly though he felt the shadowy substance still itself once more, reforming into a sphere.

So he can still control it as well. That’s not exactly desirable.

 

A short moment later Bioterror felt not only the sphere beneath him but also those capturing all his other body parts weaken and dissipate.

Did he lose focus? Encounter his weakness?

Attaching his eye to his brain once more he saw that the mist in the rest of the room was still functioning, clogging  the room and shrouding it in near total darkness.

Either way it’s the last mistake he’s making.

The rest of his flesh flew from all corners of the room to join him, bones clattering along the floor, muscles and organs soaring towards him.

Within seconds he stood nearly twice as tall, his body immediately growing to inhuman proportions though it took some adjustments to support this new weight.

“You are done Shadow.” He growled, tensing his new body to leap through the mists and devour the Epic, shadows and all.

Before he could manage his first step however he felt the mists begin to solidify around him, growing thicker and thicker before he was finally shut off completely.

The Adventurer watched from far below as the room that the two Epics in suddenly became completely opaque to his minimap.

“What the? Some kind of anti-surveilance item or something?” He mused aloud to an equally bewildered Lockvault.

The two watched for a minute, seeing nothing but tiny pieces of static in the image that the Adventurer was projecting.

“We should go now, if either of them get out it’ll be bad news and if we can't see what we’re doing…” Lockvault left his sentence hanging ominously.

“Right you are.” The Adventurer said, surprising his ally. “First rule of PKing, if in doubt, run away.”

The two vanished into the ground, leaving the tower behind for another day.

Back at the top of the tower tiny cracks were beginning to form in the black substance that encase the entire floor that Bioterror had been fighting in. Inside the black prison Bioterror raged against his cage, steadily shredding the material apart while The Imperial March played through an earbud lying nearby.