What Happened in Edmonton

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

Liam activated the com from the dash and waited as the signal transferred. Margaret had wired all of the Circle’s coms to work on a specific frequency that made it very difficult to intercept and allowed for long-distance communication in the absence of repeaters. After a moment, Bear picked up.

“Hey Moose.”

“Hey Bear,” Liam replied. “Checking in from Edmonton. Safe and sound.”

“Good to know you got out of that scrape easily. How did you manage that?” Liam hesitated and glanced back at Kokichi. Before he could say anything, there was a shuffling noise from the com, and Bear’s voice chimed in, “Hold on, Moose, Aunt M wants a word with you.” There was a bit more shuffling and a matronly voice came through the com, stern and sophisticated.

“Agent Moose,” Margaret said.

“Dr. Wilkins,” Liam replied.

“I received a message Premier Notley concerning a sequence of events at one of her research facilities. A robbery, if I recall correctly. Now, I find the description of the vehicle very interesting—I’ll quote it for you, ‘a red Volkswagen van, with some sort of Epic-derived cloaking system.’”

“Margaret, I can explain—”

“No need. I’m not upset. In fact, I think it’s a good reminder for Anne that I’m still around. She offered to collaborate on a mission as well, which I’m considering, but I’m sure that she’d find a way to twist it to her favor.”

“May I ask how you know Notley?”

“Anne and I have some history together,” Margaret said. Her tone discouraged pressing the topic further. “How is your current objective coming?”

“It’s been a slow start,” Liam admitted. He pictured Margaret’s displeased face, staring at him all the way from Headquarters. “Information on Karabiner’s whereabouts is vague at best.”

“I expected. It seems that Bear didn’t debrief you with all of the intel we had on the subject.” A distant “Sorry!” was heard. Margaret continued. “Half of the reason that you are in Edmonton is to establish intel on the city. The Circle used to have an informant in the area until a few years ago, when he suddenly ceased communications. During his service to us, he went be the codename “Hermes.” His associates referred to him as “Wallflower,” but his real name is John Delough. The nature of his disappearance is unknown, though it’s entirely possible he was found by Doubletake’s minions or died in an incident. There is a possibility that Delough is alive, and if anything, mentioning his name might gain you favor among those close to him. He alternated from a location on Jasper and 107 Street and a place near 93 and 104.

“If he is alive, or someone who is willing to work with you is, they might be your best bet on pinpointing the location of Karabiner. Tread carefully when navigating through the city center, and I authorize you to distribute your allocated funds to accomplish your means.”

Liam nodded. “Okay. However, there is something that you might want to be aware of…”

There was a pause on the other side. “What might that be, Moose?” Margaret asked. Liam glanced back at Kokichi again.

“I picked up an… assistant. Don’t worry, they’re on board and have already helped the mission in a crucial way. Agent—”

“Awesomesauce!” Kokichi interjected from the back.

“You can’t be Agent Awesomesauce!” Liam called back.

“You what?” Margaret burst in, just short of shouting. “And ‘they?’ How many people have you let in on this?”

“They’re nonbinary,” Liam replied.

“Ah. I respect that. This individual has been listening in on our conversation?” Margaret asked, slightly more subdued.

“Fine. I’ll be Agent Honeybadger, cuz we’ve got the animal thing going on,” Kokichi decided.

Margaret took that as an answer. “Well, Agent Honeybadger, I welcome you as an unofficial member of the Circle of the Shield for the time being. Moose, do not acquire any more sidekicks without my permission.”

“Yes ma’am,” Liam replied, and Margaret terminated the connection.

[Voidus]

Impact watched dubiously as the Epic began searching through a bag, allegedly looking for a pamphlet of some kind. It seemed that this Epic thought she was as gullible as her sister. She waited as he continued searching, keeping a constant stream of power flowing out of her to deflect whatever idiotic weapon he wanted to try next.

He turned mid-sentence hurling a small object in her direction, she had a brief moment to watch it tumble to her feet and recognized the shape. She'd seen many in the Dalles though not many there had been stupid enough to try to use one on her.

Her ability activated faster than her body, pulling her back and upwards from the grenade, but before she could attempt to shield her face a tremendous light burst out of the grenade. The light burned into her eyes, she attempted to shut them against the light but even then she could still see nothing but pure white. She started blinking, moving her eyes around to try to make out some shapes in the light.

Thankfully her abilities deflected any other damage from the blast, but she felt an intense pulsing begin behind her eyes, a new migraine coming on from the sudden burst of light.

She held herself still, keeping her place in the air and directed her line of sight to where she'd last seen the grenade.

"Well that was pointless." She said.

[Ataraxian Wist she/her]

Greetings to Karabiner,
      I hope this message finds you well. A great deal has changed recently, but ultimately, I do not believe we have a conflict in interests.
      In any case, I understand that time is a precious resource to some (I have even heard people say that time is money), so I will get to the point. I would like to open negotiations to make a purchase. I am specifically looking for a directed energy weapon that fulfills certain requirements, requirements that I suspect nobody in Edmonton could meet as well as you could. I would, however, be willing to consider any other acquisitions you wish to offer.
      I wait upon your response.
            Best regards,
                  Epoch
Karabiner read the words with a slight grin. He knew he was the best, of course, and had no doubt at all that he could meet these specifications, but reading it in Epoch’s own words was always nice. He hated to think that someone intelligent might believe some Epic scientist could offer more value; their devices were made of death and pain, wrenched from the bodies of the highest order of humans to ever roam the earth, superior, even, to Aryan Maples. Epics were the closest thing humanity had to true supermen; indeed, Steelheart had actually become one. It was Karabiner’s most fervent hope that he, too, could become a superman, or Übermensch, as they were called in the motherland.
That didn’t stop him from selling or even developing such technologies, but he only did so if he deemed the source Epic wholly unworthy of their godhood. Those who wouldn’t kill their inferiors, even if given a reason; those who did things to please the Maples; those who served anything but their own higher good.
“Charles?” He called.
“Yes?” A computerized voice replied with a British accent. Karabiner disliked that characteristic, but it would have taken years to create one with a German accent. The stuffy British voice belonged to a very efficient assistant, though.
“Give me an inventory rundown,” he said, holding the letter so that no text was covered by his hand from any angle.
“I’ve identified twenty-six weapons matching that criteria, thirty-seven that could work by a more liberal definition, and eight matching weapons that also possess other peculiar properties which Epoch might take interest in.”
“Excellent. Did I ever tell you you’re the best?”
“You programmed me to be, sir.”
“Yes. That I did,” Karabiner chuckled.
“Would you like the rundown, or have you changed your focus?” Asked Virtual Assistant Charles. He tended to have a longer attention span than his maker, which could be immensely helpful.
“Ah, yes Charles.”
“I’ll start with the more expendable ones, if you’ve no objection?”
“I have none.”
After a long list of lightning throwers, supersonic blasters, plasma guns, lasers, and more energy-blades than one might immediately expect, Karabiner was feeling fairly confident that her have just what Epoch needed. He stopped Charles periodically, asking him to re-classify one “Explodopoint,” requesting that a few of the weapons he knew to be older be brought to him for Link Reaffirmation, and once to summon a lemon-lime soda; he had always preferred this brand, as it was more carbonated and had a stronger lime flavor than others.
“… and then there’s the Haywire.”
Karabiner swallowed his sip of pop. “And why, exactly, is that one catalogued with the rest of my inventory?”
“Admittedly, sir, it isn’t. Did you specify a source file?”
Now Karabiner was angry. “Yes, you stupid program! I said ‘give me an inventory rundown! How did you miss ‘ inventory’ and still read the letter?!”
“My apologies, sir. It seems my microphones are not functioning as well as my Omniscience Link.”
Karabiner cooled his anger, sipping his pop from a tall glass. “Time for some Tinkering, than.”
“Send my response to Epoch: I am likewise unaware of any conflicts, and consider our past business more than enough trust to open negotiations. I require only a few concessions in regards to meeting, as you might remember or expect. I cannot, with the current instability and subsequent power craze, bring the Picket itself, though you or a minion could, perhaps, come to it. If you find that particular option agreeable, I would prefer to use the Scottie to sending my location over any network or system that I cannot ensure is secure, due to the aforementioned situation. As always, however, ‘beggars’ cannot be choosers, so I am perfectly willing to accommodate if none of these will serve.”
Karabiner cringed somewhat at the necessity of such formal cordiality, but continued.
“Best regards, sign, and send, Charles.”
“Would you like a Forgery of your hand, sir?” Asked Charles.
“Oh. Of course, good catch.”
“Message Forged, and Boomerang sent with it, sir.”
She is the best for the job, I guess, and she'll probably be back.
“Would you like to set a trap for Epoch, sir?”
Karabiner brushed it if almost immediately. Almost. He did have a few things that could probably contain the temporal Epic, but he didn’t need that kind of influence yet. I will not take over until I have mastered myself, established a true morality, he reminded himself.
 

---

Edited December 9, 2018 by Ookla the Palindrome
Removed insensitive imagery and italicized a sentence.

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

“Why do you assume I have powers?”

Sparks, this one was sharp. After the drama of the last hour, and then being confronted with a question by her captor, most wouldn't have the presence of the mind, let alone the nerve, to call him on that. Respectable, but it also made it harder to get any answers.

Should he just try to move on, and ask her about the other epics? That was the more pressing issue, at the moment, and he could circle back on this later.

No. If he couldn't at least resolve whether or not she had powers, it would set a bad precedent for future lines of questioning. Another angle? Maybe...

"Are you familiar with the device known as a dowser?"

Five.

The epic flinched, but Quietus was already in motion, mounting a second attack before waiting to see if the first had succeeded. Only the extremely powerful or extremely weak ever held themselves back. He let two more pins drop to the ground, the last two he kept on hand on a regular basis. Any more would take up too much space. Four.

One of the two was a second flashbang, which he dropped without a sound in the space he had just been standing in, before circling around his prey a quarter turn. Three.

The other was a smoke grenade, which he dropped directly in front of himself, in between the two of them. Two.

She was attempting to make a witty comment, but the words never quite reached Quietus through his power. He hoped she was still looking towards the flashbang. Sensory overload was painful, but sensory damage was much more satisfying. It would save him some of the trouble of crippling her later, once she was subdued. One.

Both grenades detonated.

Quietus allowed the smoke to roll over him, shifting his vision to spot the telltale glow of heat from her body, shining through the expanding curtain of smoke. It would be interesting, to see if her air manipulation could push away the smoke without also pushing away the air and suffocating her. And if not, then it would become yet another way to make flyer incapable of seeing him.

The spread of smoke appeared to stop as if hitting invisible barriers behind him and above him, revealing to Quietus where the new slow zones were forming. Epoch had gotten his message, then. He would be disappointed if the flyer zoomed blindly into one of them. It would take hours to get her out, and by then Epoch would probably take a firmer hand in all this, and might not let Quietus have her.

Edited August 14, 2018 by Drake Marshall
spelling

[Voidus]

The outlines of objects had just begun to be visible again when a secondary flash was set off, this one thankfully not in her direct line of sight but her vision went white again. Her headache now coming on in earnest, a consistent crushing pressure on one side.

She didn't move from her position, continuing to stare at the same spot on the ground, adopting a slightly bored expression. There was something to be said for learning from past injuries, and unfortunately she'd had her fair share of that back in Oregon.

For a brief moment, Impact wished that she had Megan at hand, if the two had been together they could have crushed the Epic into the ground the moment they'd seen him. But she didn't need Megan's abilities to get out of this. Though no down her sister would be following after her if word of this got out.

A faint whiff of smoke hit her nostrils a second before the plumes began obstructing the air in earnest. She forced the air around her out more powerfully, dispersing the smoke among the rest of the air, it might have still hampered her vision if she'd actually been able to see but at least this would be breathable in a moment.

As she stared into the white void before her eyes, she quickly ran through options.
Even if she had her vision, trying to surprise a speed Epic was never a good idea so simply fleeing was out even if she was willing to accept the social consequences and until she could see again trying to engage directly was a bad idea so moving to attack was also out. What did that leave?

It seemed that this speed Epic was at least smart enough not to try shooting her, but they seemed intent on blinding tactics for the moment, so if she just stayed still then there was little danger. Add a little of the arrogance that came standard to any Epic who was convinced of their own invulnerability and Impact waited, maintaining her passive stance and tried to look as unfazed as possible by this assault.

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

Quietus wasn't sure, but it looked like the smoke was actively being repelled away from his prey. Since she wasn't surrounded by it, a push of the wind could drive the smoke back, preventing it from getting too close to her. But it didn't look like she could actually single out the smoke with her power, so maybe a gas would work against her. Something to remember, if she escaped this time.

She was just standing there. Quietus could see the glow of her body heat. It hadn't noticably increased, implying that she was not yet afraid. Quietus smiled. The best ways to have power over people all grew from cultivating the right sorts of fear. But a complete lack of fear had it's uses, as well. It would make the next part easier.

She was at the edge of his range, not yet feeling the effects of his power. He silently approached her through the smoke cloud, still maintaining some distance for the moment. He had to be patient, and allow his powers to set in while she calmly waited for something to happen. Calamity's gift let him destroy movement, and that meant all movement. He wasn't sure which symptom she would notice first. For most, it was the difficulty breathing. Others cited the dizziness, difficulty moving, or the drop in heart rate. Regardless, the glow of her body heat would slowly begin to lose intensity, as her body entered a downwards spiral in a failed attempt to conserve oxygen.

Once she noticed, the hunt would begin in earnest. In the meantime, he fired off a burst from his gun in her general direction, and began to circle further around his quarry.

Edited August 13, 2018 by Drake Marshall

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

After the call ended, Kokichi cried out, “I am not your sidekick! I am your friend!” Liam turned around in his seat to see a comically exaggerated arrow protruding from their heart and a fat tear roll down their face. “Your friend’s major league rude.”

Liam ran his hand through his hair. “Calm down! She didn’t know anything about you other than what I told her. She made an assumption, albeit an incorrect one. You are my friend.” He sorted through the information Margaret had just given him. John Delough. Wallflower. Hermes. Another mystery man he had to find. “Now we have another job to do, great,” he muttered. Since Delough had disappeared a few years ago, it was no wonder why the Circle’s intel on Edmonton was mostly outdated. Why hadn’t they invested more resources in the city?

Distracted by his thoughts, Liam rapped his fingers on the steering wheel. There were a few ways they could go about finding Karabiner, the end goal. One, find Delough. Easier said than done. Hopefully, he is still alive and willing to work with them. Two, go straight to Karabiner himself. Liam had an inkling of how to do that, and it involved a few business transactions. Margaret had said that he was authorized to use Circle funds.

“Either way, the first thing to do is to start driving around,” Liam said, breaking the silence. He fiddled with the audio for a moment and the familiar Elvis came through the speakers.

We’re caught in a trap

I can’t walk out

I can’t because I love you too much, baby

As the guitar played, Liam put the van into drive and maneuvered out to the main refinery road.

Why can’t you see

What you’re doing to me

When you don’t believe a word I say?

 

We can’t go on together

With suspicious minds    (with suspicious minds)

And we can’t build our dreams

On suspicious minds

[The Young Pyromancer he/him]

He had a dowser?  Even sparking Steelheart didn’t have one of those!  She tried to stay calm. What did she know about dowsers?  They could detect an Epic, they were exceedingly rare… Didn’t they display abilities too?  Jacklyn wasn’t sure. Probably not, she decided, but if this Epic was bluffing, he wouldn’t know that, and if he wasn’t, it would be a reasonable mistake.   “Doesn’t the dowser display the Epic’s power as well?” The prisoner tried to sound like a blend between innocent and skeptical, which her power let her pull off wonderfully.  That was one of the only ways her power was actually useful, as opposed to harmful, like it had been earlier.  Jacklyn picked up a drink and sipped it. She more control over the situation now. The small piece of her that was buried beneath caution and fear was actually starting to enjoy this.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

“Doesn’t the dowser display the Epic’s power as well?”

"Um. Touché," Finley answered, letting out a bark of a laugh. "I'm pretty sure they don't, for the record, but what would I know?"

If she had continued to affect harmlessness, he would have started to get worried. The dissonance with her original reply was not lost on him, though. He paused, considering for a moment. His power affecting the headquarters made pauses like that somewhat harder to notice.

"That answers my question, in a roundabout way," he noted. "Another evidence that you are an epic, or otherwise intimately connected to epics. I can live without the details, for the time being. You seemed more eager to share about the red epic. Tell me about her."

[The Young Pyromancer he/him]

This Epic, unlike most Jacklyn had interacted with, seemed to appreciate her standing up for herself.  She had gambled that he would to some extent.  Maybe it was just because he thought she was powerful, but she would have to go along with it, even if all her post-Calamity instincts were screaming at her to do otherwise.  What did she know about the woman in red?  Jacklyn couldn’t tell Epoch the truth, because he seemed to think she was powerful, and no one powerful would run away from someone begging to be their slave.  Maybe if she told him about the woman, but not their meeting…

     “Before today, I’d never met her.  She must have been an Epic of some sort, as she bore scars that no Maple could survive.  She carried a knife. Most interestingly, she was able to detect that I was an Epic as well.  Oh, and she’s probably insane.”  Jacklyn spoke in a self-confident, assured tone, even though her emotions told a different story.  Great, she thought, Steelheart becomes Superman, and I get a makeover and bluffing skills.  She had to admit that she executed the flippant remark at the end rather authentically though.

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

“Before today, I’d never met her. She must have been an Epic of some sort, as she bore scars that no Maple could survive. She carried a knife. Most interestingly, she was able to detect that I was an Epic as well. Oh, and she’s probably insane.”

"Interesting," Finley mused. "Thank you for conclusively verifying that you are an epic, by the way. So you are saying that you've never seen her before? What about the third epic?"

The description of scars suggested a healing factor, in addition to some kind of perception ability. He would feel much, much better when the checkpoint situation was completely resolved. Epoch's mobile beeped, announcing a second incoming call. Phytomagnet.

"One moment."

An inconvenient time to call, but it could be important. Casually, he tugged on the flow of time in the penitentiary, slowing things down so Jacklyn would likely only experience two or three seconds of mild tunnel-vision as she skipped over the delay. Then he switched over to the incoming call.

"Yes, Phytomagnet?"

"So, uh. Those criminals you had me after... One of them was an epic, some kind of mentalist power. They've escaped. I sent a few trackers after them, but I doubt they'll find anything."

"I see," Epoch answered, carefully keeping the disapproval from showing in his voice. He would need more information, to determine the target of his disapproval.

"A mentalism epic? Send me the details as soon as you are no longer in pursuit. If that is all, we may discuss this more later."

He hung up, switching back to Jacklyn, and canceling the time zone over the penitentiary.

"There. Now, we were discussing the other epics?"

Edited August 15, 2018 by Drake Marshall
retcon complete

[The Young Pyromancer he/him]

Jacklyn was thrown off her stride by Epoch's comment.  Her facade momentarily slipped.

"What Epic?"

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer
Spelling

[Voidus]

Megan Pierce stumbled along the side of the road, pulling a stray twig from her hair. She combed her fingers through the tangle that had started, struggling to restore her blonde hair to its normal state.

After a minute she gave up, it hadn't been a good day for keeping up appearances, even if she fixed one tangle there were probably 20 more she hadn't seen. Walking along the side of the road for 12 hours straight was not a good way to keep your hair in order.

The car she'd been using had broken down a day ago and the lack of traffic along the road had meant no hitchhiking opportunities had arisen. And that meant walking. Far too much walking. Though from the looks of things she'd be in the city soon. But 'soon' was relative, it'd still be another hour of walking at least, probably more. 

"Olympia Polaris." She said as she trudged, lifting her head to look at the city. "Dumb name. Wonder who thought of it?"

Hopefully the ones who ran this place were better than the ones who'd run the Dalles and she could get a shower and a bed without too much of a struggle. And after that, she could start searching. She wasn't sure if Allison would be here or in another city, Calgary maybe. But it seemed that a number of other refugees from Oregon had headed in this direction so it might be a good place to start at least.

A low sound from behind startled her out of her reverie, a red van chugged its way up the road, heading along the same road she was.

Nervously, she stuck out a hand and lifted her thumb. She hoped they wouldn't try anything. Handsy guys were the worst.

Impact's vision finally began to clear again, eddies in the smoke around her becoming slightly more visible. But it was still just vague shapes, not anything she could see clearly.

If that Slontze damaged my retina then I'm going to rip his eyes out and set them on fire. See how he likes it.

Still, she managed to keep the calm, arrogant expression of a High Epic. Convinced that nothing that any lower creature could do would bring any harm to it.

A loud crack burst through the air, a short distance away and off to one side. She barely even felt the bullet as it ricocheted off, just a slight push of her clothes against her skin. Her smile became slightly more natural when she noticed. An Epic who needed a gun to do their killing was barely worth calling an Epic at all.

She turned slowly towards the source, she wasn't sure if it was the smoke that made it hard for her to see the figure that shot her or if her vision was still too impaired but she didn't catch sight of anything that looked like a person.

As she turned a wave of dizziness came over her, slightly disorienting her motion.

Sparks. The medication? No I haven't even taken any today, haven't needed it in a while.

She shook her head to try and clear it, but even her muscles felt sluggish, straining to move.

[The Swan Dragon he/him]

((OOC: On phone, so will format properly later))

"I see," Epoch answered flatly. "A mentalism epic? Send me the details as soon as you are no longer in pursuit. If that is all, we may discuss this more later."

"Yes--" *click* "--Sir..."

Turning back, Phytomagnet could see that his troops were already dispersing, with only Ironwood and a token guard left.

"Let's go. With how long we've been gone thanks to the time delay, something is going to need fixing." Meanwhile, he added mentally. I've got to figure out who that epic was. 

"Sure thing boss," Ironwood chimed. "Ethan, let's go."

30 minutes later (~13 minutes normal time)

"...THE CROP IS INFESTED WITH WHAT?!?!" Phytomagnet bellowed.

"Th-thlugs, thir. And thalt doethn't theem to thtop them," the gardener stammered, cowering. "Pleathe don't kill me, thir!"

"Bah." As if on cue, a branch sprouted from his chest, spraying the other gardeners with blood.

"Remove the body. And figure out a way to kill the slugs. We've got a deadline to meet," Phytomagnet said with a glare for the remaining workers.

"Y-yes sir!" they shouted, scattering.

Shaking his head, he turned to the accountants--an unfortunate, but necessary, evil. "How short on stock will this leave us?"

They saluted. "Our locally stored supplies will drop by just over 5%--while several fields are almost dead, the infestation was caught quickly enough for a quarantine to be--"

"Why was I just informed of this?" Phyto interjected. "There's no way this just started."

"No sir, it didn't," one of the maples replied. "But slugs and other pests have appeared before, and traditional preventive measures have always worked." Their voice trembled. "We only brought this to your notice because the salt didn't work."

"Find something else to kill the slugs then," he grumbled. "And if need be, we can raze those fields and replant."

"Understood, sir."

"Dismissed."

[Ataraxian Wist she/her]

Your observations are interesting, at the least, and I believe they hold done real merit, but cannot join you. There is, however, a matter that I believe we can agree on, which should be of help to both of us if we can cooperate.

Please realize, before I continue, that a time will come when we will be, of necessity, enemies.

But for now, we have at least one common interest: An Epic named Bloodlight. As far as humans go, there are certainly more despicable beings than he, but his unique powers grant you an easy catalyst. Some revolutions need martyrs, but yours need something greater, closer. Your vendetta against humanity is clear, but many people are simply too human to rally behind it. These need an immediate common enemy.

Bloodlight possesses a quasi-temporal power that allows him to kill a person hundreds of times in as many seconds. I believe this is exactly the kind of power you can claim is an inherent danger to the community of Olympia Polaris, especially given your highly persuasive nature.

What I propose is this: Warn the people of Bloodlight's coming, prepare them against him. When Nate Snyder reaches the city, he ought to be hated so thoroughly that his immediate danger will force him to reveal himself. You’ll get more followers and a display of what they can do, and I’ll get a gain significant enough for quick backup from Karabiner, which will make Bloodlight much easier to neutralize and find. After that, this city will be rid of two or three Epics you don’t really want around, and well all be satisfied or dead.

With all in mind,

Arachnerd.

Arachnerd lifted her pen, cracking her aching knuckles. It was a shame, really, that spiders were so illiterate, or she’d have simply told one of hers to write this letter.

She didn’t really need his help at all, and would have no difficult tracking Nate down when he reached Olympia Polaris. It might not even have fine to tracking if her Spyders served correctly, but she didn’t want him as am enemy, and a useless ally never killed anyone. Well, it had, but not her.

Come. She sent the command to her more capable nearby servents, two of whom were bigger than her hand. She was answered by twenty-seven spiders, climbing across her webs touch her hand. She dropped the letter. Catch and secure.

The two largest arachnids stretched their forelegs up to catch the fallen letter, one pushing it intro the other’s back, where several of the others – black widows could survive so far north in their own, but her power sustained them – secured it in a quickly-spun envelope of spider silk. It was shoddy, but it would hold for her proposes.

“Take it to Armageddon, and stay out of sight,” she told the bigger, hairy spiders, one of whom now carried the letter on its back. They crawled away, bearing her message safely – albeit slowly – to the Epic named Armageddon.

Once outside of her range, she couldn’t feel them anymore. They would still follow her order, unless some other Epic specifically interfered with their minds.

She felt her eyelids drooping. Coffee, she thought. I need coffee.

Arachnerd the Blackweb released herself from the clutches of the great Webyrinth, sliding down to the ground. Purse, she ordered. A squadron of eight-legged acrobats skittered down a web toward her outstretched hand, where they deposited her purse. Its stitching immediately turned an unnatural black, accenting its white leather like her hair did for her face, creating a stark and awesome contrast that she greatly appreciated.

Arachnerd walked about, Spyders 1-4 doing their best to find her a coffee shop. She really needed to make a decent map of the place sometime, or find one, because her Spyders could only do so much, and she needed them watching for Nate. In addition to her guides, she could see some sped up communications people in ERA headquarters, though her feed from Spyder 7, who was watching it, was kind of weird to watch, and sound was all too high pitched for her tired mind to handle just then.

She checked on Spyders 5 and 6, who she had assigned to some unidentified Epics 5 had seen fighting some Alberan Government police officers for an unknown cause. All she could really see from 5 was an obnoxious pile of glowing green hair from that... strange young Epic. 6, however...

Suddenly, Arachnerd saw herself. Over the shoulder of a younger man with long dark hair, she could see the back of her head.

“Sparks!” She cursed,whipping around to face the silent surprise of an Epic. Sure enough, there was the thermal Epic from the skirmish, bandaged leg and all. 

The thermal Epic jumped visibly at her sudden, seemingly unwarranted turn and exclamation, and Arachnerd realized that he hadn’t actually been silent at all. She could hear breath from two directions now, so she must have just been too tired to notice with her own ears. It was certainly a good thing she had trained herself to react quickly to seeing herself in Spyder vision, or she would have been at a severe disadvantage.

“Who are you and why are you right sparking there?!”

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

With the broom as a crutch and a cane, Riley made slow progress. Soon, he came to the perimeter fence of the refinery, which he melted through. It was only chain link, and rather weak. It slowed him down, however.

Trudging through the suburbs of Olympia Polaris was like a daze. Ever since Calamity, since the feds, the Albertan Government had shut down Sherwood Park, he had never set foot outside. Oh, how he had craved to, and now it had finally happened. It didn’t make it feel any more real.

The land was flat, and everywhere he looked were neat residences and streetside retailers, like his home town. Unlike Sherwood Park though, these houses were sparsely populated. Most sat desolate and unkept, with weedy yards and dilapidated roofs. The scars of looters marked many, even the ones that bore hints of residents. Few vehicles roamed the streets, but now and then a heavily-tinted van would rush by. He walked for about an hour, crossing streets and cutting through yards. He had no destination.

His armpit was sore from the blunt broom end, and his feet and legs were aching. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead. Weary, he settled down on the curb and laid the broom beside him. Sparks, Riley thought. All alone in my “land of promise” and with a sparking bloody leg! He pounded a fist on his knee and winced from the pain. Sparking leg.

He glanced around the vacant—no, not quite vacant street. There was a woman across the way, her back turned. She had quite an interesting clothing style: starkly white and black outfit, hair tied in a bun, the whole of it reminded Riley of the “geeky” girls in school. The ones who took that bookworm aesthetic and ran with it.

Maybe he would have noticed something off about her if he had noticed the nearly imperceptible shifting of the blinds on the house the woman was in front of, the anxious eyes glancing through the crack, disappearing just as quickly as they appeared. Maybe if he had noticed that she was unusually alone on this street, out where she might fall prey to more unsavory types. If he had noticed the confident way she stood, maybe he would have been warier.

But Riley didn’t notice any of those things.  

Suddenly, she spun around, so rapidly her wide round glasses nearly slipped off her nose. “Sparks!” She exclaimed, causing Riley to start. She seemed more startled than angry that he was there. Struggling to regain her composure, she took a step closer.

“Who are you and why are you right sparking there?!”

Riley was taken aback by the outburst, leaving both of them a bit flustered. Instinctively, he reached forward and placed his palm on the dark asphalt, drawing the heat from it. He hesitated in that bent position for a second, then pushed up, acting as if he was just trying to stand.

The heat pulsing in him, the pain in his leg made his eyes slightly wild. He cracked a smile as he regarded the woman—or young woman, after seeing her face—and spoke. “Call me Riley, if you like. I’m here because I just walked a long sparking way and decided to take a rest. Why are you here? And don’t be rude, introduce yourself.”

[Voidus]

The van skidded to a halt a second after it passed, throwing up dust somehow in-spite of the fact that the road was asphalt. She lowered a hand that she'd started raising towards it, thankfully not needing to stop it herself.

From the passenger side a figure stepped out, completely obscured by the large cloud of dust until an opportune gust of wind started blowing it away. The figure that was revealed was wearing the most eye-watering array of vibrant colours that she'd seen since Doctor Funtimes, a hoodie of a light, almost neon blue, a somehow natural looking purple hair and bright orange crocs.

Well that's either an Epic, or someone who's very quickly going to be killed by an Epic. Megan thought as the figure approached.

The... boy? girl? She couldn't place a gender to the figure as it approached, reaching out a hand to her.

A backdrop of roses appeared behind them as their hair continued moving to a non-existent breeze and their features seemed to almost glow.

Epic it is then. She looked cautiously towards the figure as they spoke.

“Hi! Who are you?”

She found herself suddenly overcome with a compulsion to fidget and avoid meeting their eyes as she gave a half-truth.

"Uh... M-M-Mega- I mean Melanie. I'm just. Um... just trying to get to the city."

Her feet shifted as she looked down, not sure why she was suddenly acting like the worlds most obvious liar.

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

“Stop the car,” Kokichi said, and before Liam could respond, the van moved of its own volition. With an abrupt swerve, it pulled over to the side of the road in a dramatic cloud of dust that billowed up around the vehicle, mostly obscuring it. Liam turned to Kokichi, but they had already hopped out.

Liam sighed. There wasn’t much he could do about this now, so he climbed out as well. He only caught the end of their conversation. “M-M-Mega—I mean, Melanie. I’m just. Um… just trying to get to the city.”

That’s when Liam noticed the girl standing in front of Kokichi, dirty and weary. Melanie? The name echoed in his head, bringing back painful memories a decade old. He caught himself staring, and promptly looked away. Her hair was too blond to be Melanie, and she was too young as well. It’s not Melanie.

His own name broke him from his reverie. “—and that guy is Liam,” Kokichi was saying, “We’re besties. Want to be my bestie too?” As before, little floating cues hovered around Kokichi as they spoke, but Liam didn’t pay attention to them. His focus was on the newcomer. Though dirty and worn, there was something in her eyes. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but there was an… aura? Around this girl. There were things that she wasn’t letting on.

Liam took the opportunity step forward. “Hold on a moment, Kokichi. I’d like to know more about you… Melanie, if you are going to be joining us. Something more than your name and destination.”

[Voidus]

The two figures both were both introduced, assisted to some degree by floating subtextual reminders which it now seemed were being caused by the initial person she'd met, Kokichi. Megan struggled to regain control over herself, resisting whatever strange compulsion had caused her to stumble over her words like that.

“Hold on a moment, Kokichi. I’d like to know more about you… Melanie, if you are going to be joining us. Something more than your name and destination.”

Well I guess it was a bit of a long shot that anyone would believe that terrible of a lie.

She smiled hesitantly towards Kokichi, struggling to think of what to say, then awkwardly turned to face the other man, Liam. If they were both Epics and they thought she was just some regular girl then things probably wouldn't end very well. But they didn't exactly seem like normal Epics, what if they were one of those groups who went around trying to kill Epics? Wrekingers or whatever they were called. But in the end, she decided that truth was probably best, or at least some parts of it.

"Sorry, my name's actually Megan, I just wasn't sure if I should give it to someone I just met. I'm trying to find someone, my sister. Last she was seen it was heading into Alberta somewhere and Edmonton seemed like an easier place to start looking. Have you seen her? Or heard anything about her? She looks just like me, or well she did anyway."

She hesitated for a moment, she'd know if anything had happened to Allison probably but that didn't help in finding her. What if she was laying low? Not coming out or being seen? Would she be able to find her again? Be able to be together again?

A small stream of tears began trickling out of her eyes, her hair suddenly seemed to have become clean and untangled and the tears glittered with an unnatural sparkle when they fell.

[Ataraxian Wist she/her]

Nate lifted a water bottle from the plastic package in the back seat, twisted the lid off, and squeezed the water quickly into his mouth. “No need to waste time with normal chugging,” he reasoned, throwing the crunched bottle into the back seat. It felt a shame, but he could clean it out in Olympia Polaris, and he really had to get there quickly; Arachnerd’s Spyders could already have hitched a ride on his bumper, or otherwise caught up to him, and he couldn’t risk her learning specifics of his plan to bring Celia back for good. That, of course, was a major downside to processing things verbally like he did, as she could just overhear him thinking out loud as he always did. He pushed the plan far from his mind, pressing his jaw firmly shut just in case.
The remainder of the trip passed in silence. It wasn’t a very long ride, at that point. He had made good time, all things considered, and reached Olympia Polaris in time to catch the sunset. Canadian sunsets could be quite pretty, he realized. His appreciation for the colors of the west horizon was dispelled when he reached to wrap his arm around Celia’s waist. She wasn't there. Nate started talking again as his car slowed to accommodate a mass of people walking in the road.
“They certainly are moving, aren't they?” he asked himself.
“Hmm…” he mused, noting their general dishevelment and ragged clothing. “I wonder what they’re running from.”
Nate felt – or saw, rather – his vision tunnel, and the formerly blurry refugees slowed to a more natural pace.
“A temporal Epic, eh?” he remarked, adding the stereotypical Canadian “eh” to the end of it to amuse himself. It worked, bringing a momentary smile to his lips. Then it disappeared he glanced at his dash, and the picture of Celia that was mounted there.
“Lots of Enforcers, looks like,” he noticed. “This doesn't match the description I got. Someone must have broken through here very recently. I hope that’s all it is, anyway.”
Nate nudged the Saab forward to stay in line with the other refugees, who didn’t seem to care that there was a nice looking car behind them.
“That’s funny,” he noted. “Nice cars usually mean Epics. Must be hearty folks.”
He waited in line for a bit, until he finally made it to what looked like a makeshift customs house in the road, where he was stopped by two men in uniform. He shut himself up, so as not to appear insane. Which, he thought, I just might be. Who knows?
“We’re going to have to inspect your vehicle and person, sir,” said the first.
“I suppose I knew this was coming,” Nate replied, opening the driver door and stepping out.
They rummaged through his car, but didn't come up with anything they felt the need confiscate. The really wasn't anything in it that could cause problems but a box of .45 caliber bullets. The second officer held them up and gestured at Nate.
“Do you have a weapon that fires those?” Officer One asked Nate, pointing over his shoulder at the ammo box.
“Yes sir,” he replied, pulling his M1911 from his right holster, where it had been mostly hidden by his black leather jacket. Checking the safety, he flipped the handgun around and proffered the handle to the first officer. The second continued to work silently.
“Iiiiiis that a problem, sir?” Nate asked warily. It would not do at all to be without his only non-Epic self defense. He didn’t want to make a scene here to keep it, but he certainly didn’t want to need it later either, and end up killing someone, then leave them as a witness of his atrocities. It would make Celia’s redemption impossible.
“Not really, no,” replied Officer Two.
“Great, ‘cause I'd kind of like that back.”
Officer One handed the weapon back to Nate, who holstered it.
“What’s that in your other hip?” asked Officer One, who could now see past Nate’s bomber jacket.
“Spring airsoft replica of the other, sir,” he answered, pulling the full metal airsoft gun from his left hip and ejecting the magazine, which the officers could now see held 6mm white plastic BBs. They were .20 gram; anything lighter would simply spin off into the sky from the fire power of that particular model.
“Airsoft? That’s not Epic tech, is it?”
“No, sir, it’s a pre-Calamity combat toy, most it leaves is welts unless it hits your eye. It’s like paintball, but cleaner.” Nate punctuated the sentence by firing his chambered round at a nearby spider, leaving its splattered remains on the road beside them. A white dot could be seen to fly off of the body, and a plink could be heard across the street.
“Harmless, I see,” said Officer One. "What’s your name?"
“Snyder, sir. Nathaniel Snyder.
“You know her?” he asked, pointing to Celia’s picture on the dash once his personal inspection was complete.
Sparks! She beat me here!
“Yeah,” he replied coolly. The façade was hard, but he thought he could manage it. “Why do you ask?”
“’Cause that’s the Blackweb, sure as Calamity. She’s dangerous, but no-one really knows why she’s here. Was hoping you might have some info.” It was Officer Two who spoke this time. Who was really in charge here?
No no no no no no NO! He tried not to panic. His response was a bit shaky, probably not very convincing, but it was better than his mind. “An Epic? Must be thinking of someone else, sir. That’s my late girlfriend.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he some of her. They were real, but they would probably help his lie be more believable anyway. Actually, their legitimacy was probably their biggest selling point.
“Ah. I see. You're, uh, good to go, sir.” It was Officer Two again.
Nate pulled his car forward through the now parting throng of people and was on his way.
“That was close. I… should probably pull that picture down, if Arachnerd is really here.” It hurt him to do it, but Nate reached up and slid the picture out the to of the frame as he drove into the city. He’d take the frame down later, or alter it to hold his Mobile.
He put the picture in the zippered pocket over his heart on the outside of his jacket.
“I remember what you said, you know.” He said it aloud, but he knew Celia wouldn’t really hear him from there. Or maybe she would, if she was watching him with a Spyder. “I haven’t forgotten your promise, that we'll be together someday, without the pain, or the Evil. That day is coming, Celia.”

Edited August 19, 2018 by Sazedezas
Typos.

[The Young Pyromancer he/him]

He consulted his shopping list.  He needed new gloves, but he doubted they would be sold here.  He did see a nice trench coat though. The money he had left from his brief service to an Epic had been mostly used up, but if he ever ended up working for someone again, he needed to look the part.  Nicroburst stumbled, and ran into someone. His power activated. Calamity!

 

Edited October 28, 2018 by The Young Pyromancer
Fixed image

[Ataraxian Wist she/her]

Arachnerd watched the other Epic's face break into a smile. Why? Oh, wait... I'm cute, aren't I? Forgot about that. She was far too tired to even think of using that to her advantage. She was also too tired to consider that the smile might have been a trick to throw her off guard, so it did.

 “Call me Riley, if you like. I’m here because I just walked a long sparking way and decided to take a rest. Why are you here? And don’t be rude, introduce yourself.”

"Arachnerd. I'm... Just trying to find some coffee, honestly." She almost said it like "you know where a girl can find a Starbucks?" or something, But she still didn't feel comfortable with men her age. Older fellows like Karabiner were one thing, but she still felt for Nate's arm around her waist whenever she saw a nice face. She admitted, grudgingly, that Riley's did qualify.

How do his powers work? No. How do they work? NO! Thermal Epics can't all be the same! Fine.

"How, exactly, did you do that stuff to those police officers, Riley?" He looked taken aback. "I mean, do you conserve thermal radiation, or just shoot ice and fire from your hands? If you conserve, can you pull it from anything, or just living tissues? Does it go through you, or just move from target to target?"

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

“Arachnerd,” the young woman replied. An Epic, Riley thought. “I’m… just trying to find some coffee, honestly.” Riley realized that she did seem like she was in need of a caffeine boost. She paused for a moment, thinking.

“How, exactly, did you do that stuff to those police officers, Riley?” What?! Riley couldn’t keep the shock from showing on his face. How… how did she know that? She was an Epic, but if she had been spying on him, all the way in Sherwood Park, it raised some frightening questions. Who else was watching him? He never was truly safe, even when the feds hadn’t found him. The implications… he didn’t want to think about it.

Arachnerd was still talking. “I mean, do you conserve thermal radiation, or just shoot ice and fire from your hands? If you conserve, can you pull it from anything, or just living tissues? Does it go through you, or just move from target to target?” Riley stared at her for a moment. Really living up to the “nerd” in Arachnerd, there. Should he tell her? However, if he didn’t, how long would it take her to figure it out?

“I conserve,” he began. “That’s simple enough. But…” He trailed off, plotting. “If you want specifics, you’ll need to tell me a bit about your powers, which I assume are spider related.” Sparks, he was smooth. He could pat himself on the back for that later.

[Ataraxian Wist she/her]

“I conserve. That’s simple enough. But…” Riley trailed off, then continued. “If you want specifics, you’ll need to tell me a bit about your powers, which I assume are spider related.”

Arachnerd was too tired to chuckle. She probably should have expected exactly that response, but she could see nothing wrong with him understanding her powers, as long as he didn't know about... Calamity but those were painful memories. She cursed the irony that the part of her life she had tried so hard for so long to just forget had become a matter of life and death again when she got powers.

Normally, her reply would have been full of sarcasm, but she simply said "yeah, spider powers." She probably owed him an explanation for having known about his powers beforehand, as he would know nothing of her Spyders.

Come. "I can control them with mental orders, which they'll follow even out of range." Spiders crawled from the cracks in the buildings around them, answering her mental call. "I sustain them, too so they don't need to eat, or implode from heart attack - spiders get heart attacks when they move for too long, as they need to stop so their blood can come back to their abdomens - while under my orders." March about, she commanded, demonstrating  their ability.

"I can also see through some of their eyes, feel through their bodies, and hear through their leg-hairs." Her red spider-eye hologram appeared around her face, the main eyes filling her glasses once again.

Arachnerd knew she was leaving some things out, but she wasn't sure she wanted to reveal the Creepflood, as it was probably her only chance if fighting broke out; Riley - who really needed a better name - could easily kill any of her Hoarde, so those were out. But, if she just turned the street beneath him into spiders, he would be somewhere he couldn't reach her, and surrounded by hostile spiders to boot.

Arachnerd had barely stopped talking, and Riley looked bewildered at the specificity of her descriptions, but she just picked it back up where she had stopped. "Oh, and fibrous structures I'm touching turn black," she finished, spinning a black web between her index fingers. She gave Riley a glare that only the bespectacled can deliver, basically meaning you promised.

[Hemalurgic Headshot he/him]

“Yeah, spider powers,” Arachnerd said, then launched into a whole spiel. As she spoke, a small cluster of spiders gathered at her feet, crawling out from their nests to heed her call. They marched around at her feet. “I can see through their eyes, feel through their bodies, hear through their leg-hairs.” A visually impressive spider-eye image appeared over her face, as if she had become a spider too. She is definitely stable enough to pull all of these dramatic twists, Riley thought. “Oh, and fibrous structures I’m holding turn black,” Arachnerd concluded. Riley hadn’t even registered some of what she had said, but he played it cool.

He spread his hands and smiled. “Alright, I’ll fess up. So, I manipulate heat energy, like I said before. Most ambient energy is heat anyways, and I can draw it from anything. Even if under normal circumstances whatever it is wouldn’t yield heat, I can still take it. Theoretically, I can create absolute zero, though I’ve never tried it.” He slowly bent over and grabbed the broom, tracing elaborate designs over the handle and burning them in with his finger. He masked the pain in his leg as he did so.

He passed the broom from hand to hand lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. “Normally, I’d go my merry way and you yours. However, since you seem lost and more than a little tired, I’m willing to offer some assistance. Coffee?” He said. Mentally, he cursed. Spark that silver tongue of yours, Riley, he thought. Now I’ve let my words get ahead of me. Offering to go find coffee for this random Epic girl you just met, with a sparked-up leg to boot? Revoking that pat on the back.

 

It’s going to be so totally awesome. Kokichi’s words echoed in Liam’s head as they drove towards downtown Edmonton. Kokichi was lounging in the passenger seat, and Megan was on the sofa in the back. Once Kokichi had it set in their mind that Megan was coming with them, there wasn’t much Liam could have done to sway them. Do not acquire any more sidekicks without my permission, Margaret had said. To Calamity with that, apparently. He supposed she just wouldn’t hear about Megan anytime soon.

He felt like the protagonist in one of those RPGs he used to play pre-Calamity. Constantly taking on side quests. Megan’s sister was yet another side quest. He sighed, but the music playing in the background drowned it out.

He took a left towards the main road, blinked, and wasn’t quite where he was before. Kokichi again, he thought. Slowly, he was acclimating to the Epic’s reality warping. However, knowing them, wherever they were now was somewhere near they needed to be. Wherever that was. Trusting his instincts, Liam continued driving forward, passing mostly abandoned houses with splashes of life here and there. He scanned the skyline and pressed the brake reflexively when he saw wisps of smoke ahead. Just a few blocks down, mingled among obviously new structures—perhaps constructed by one of the reigning Epics—was a rising plume of smoke. It was thinning out, mingling with the partly cloudy sky, but it was smoke nevertheless. He pulled the van into a narrow driveway between two abandoned houses.

Liam glanced back at his two passengers. “Alright, there’s something up ahead. I’ve come to realize that when it’s ‘something,’ it’s 80% hostile. Especially when there’s smoke involved.” As he spoke, he pulled his shotgun out of his compartment and began emptying the chamber. He took out a dark box-shaped device and attached it to the underside of the firearm just behind the middle of the barrel. He pointed to the glove compartment in front of Kokichi. “There is a box of shotgun rounds in the back. It’s the navy blue one.” Kokichi found it and handed him the box, which he opened and began to load the shotgun with. These were special rounds that, when paired with the device he had attached to the gun, ionized when fired, causing the bullet and the air around it to bond with the wound. It was particularly nasty, and Liam only used them when confronting Epics, specifically ones that were susceptible to guns. Wounds from these didn’t heal easily, if at all.

“Megan, I have a feeling that your sister is involved with the ‘thing’ going on up ahead. I’m leaving your safety up to you, because if worst comes to worst, it isn’t likely that I can save you from an Epic. Not right now, at least. Kokichi, are you ready?” Liam turned to them as he reached over and activated the Parallax cloak.