TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Is it anything like AP US History? I took that and was pleasantly surprised to learn that the test, which our teacher had built up as harder than his quizzes by far, was actually rather easy. That said, I'm sorry. I never did well on DBQs.

Our reputation precedes us.

Let me put it this way: I've considered and rejected several methods because they were too quick.

Sorry. I would've let it go on longer, but I didn't want Chess to be stuck with dark!Funtimes for much longer than that. And her false assumption was essential to Quota's ruse, so she'll realize she killed him for no reason before too long.

Maybe that's why they get along so well?

Eeyup. Wait till you see what his plan is. (I'm trying to create a character so despicable, it will be scientifically impossible to pity him when he dies painfully.)

At least this Epic sticks to worlds filled with cartoon ponies, rather than alternate Earth timelines. Imagine if Hitler had had the three of them on his side.

Or maybe they simply crossed over from our world with their powers intact? Once given, Epic powers seem to be permanent, so unless book 3 proves me wrong, they could have remained under the corruption after arriving in Equestria.

That would explain why Calamity hasnt arrived in Equestria despite being properly ponified.

Yes, because you're right.

Perhaps a bit, but she went to that McDonald's to talk with her sister frequently enough without incident that it wouldn't be much of a trigger. How did you know?

And it's looking like she won't learn Lightwards and Thomas Cardinal are the same person, and she might never meet Big Al. But just you all wait until I namedrop a backstory Epic for one of my backstory Epics.

Yeah, probably. No. Funtimes hasn't met Big Al yet, but she does know about him from her time in Vancouver. I was thinking Radiance used to berate Super Hotman for his lazy attitude, telling him that "if you were that Epic whose only power is conjuring greasy sandwiches, I could excuse this, but I expect more from you."

Ooh, it'd be even more interesting if they were both in unfamiliar territory. If Quota got to someone before Euphoria did, how do you think their powers would interact, and vice versa?

Euphoria is a lot more powerful than he is, so she'd have him beaten in that department. Quota's strategy would tend more toward slipping in little bits of despair to keep her from ever gaining complete control.

Funtimes and Quota posts up.

Doctor Funtimes didn't stay in the basement, opting instead to return to her original hiding place. The streets were still empty, but she sat in a corner well away from the windows anyway. Gone. He was gone. And with him, that freakish ability to manipulate her. Funtimes didn't know what emotional manipulation had to do with chess, but Epics had stranger powers. Super Hotman's main power had been unnervingly good looks, but also teleportation and party sensing. Courtney. The thought bubbled up again, but she blocked it out with a thought of Sam's new pug. She blocked it out. Doctor Funtimes drew her knees up to her chest. She wasn't quite ready to smile, but that could wait. Wasilla, Alaska Six months before Annexation For once, a tearful phone call didn’t send Jade’s mother into lecture mode. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.” The drive between their address and the McDonald’s was a short one, and Theresa Delancey was there before Jade could finish pouring out her story to the cashier, teens, and old man who clustered around her corner booth. Jade choked to a stop when she saw her mother, grey-streaked braid draped over her shoulder as always, clutching the keys to their old sedan. Instead of snapping at her to get up, Theresa grabbed a chair. “Go on. Tell me what happened.” She did. How anyone understood her through all the sobbing and stammering was beyond her, but they patted her shoulders and murmured sympathy all the same. The cashier offered to pray, the old man offered use of his CB radio for any news that might come in before the media got ahold of it, and the teens offered French fries. The next thing she knew, she was buckled into the front seat of their sedan, staring out the window at skeletal trees and brown grass still patched with greying snow. One of her CDs played over the stereo, but Jade barely listened until a familiar beat poured out. With one swift slap, she killed the audio. “I thought you liked that song.” She sounded hurt. Jade shrugged, back to looking out the window. “I know you and Courtney listened to it.” “Together.” And only together, Jade didn’t add. She had tried it before, listening to their song when she was alone. When Courtney was at the other end of the line, the song was a promise that she would always pick up the phone, always call back, always plan to return the second she could. When Jade was alone, the song was a grim reminder that Courtney wasn’t there, hadn’t picked up the phone, couldn’t plan her return trip. Now, the lyrics weren’t a reminder so much as a taunt. Theresa sighed softly, but left the music off. Once at home, Theresa opened Jade’s door and held it against the wind. No sighs. No urging her to hurry. Not a word about sobbing in front of six strangers. She let Jade wander into her room, ducking inside long enough to pull the bedcovers over her curled-up form. “Can I get you anything?” Just Courtney. Jade shook her head, tears stinging her eyes again. She closed them tight, and she felt the mattress sink as her mother sat down beside her. Theresa’s long, cool fingers combed through her hair, softly, gently. Like Courtney would do when she was sick. The tears spilled over. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Jade nodded. “Anything to drink? Some music?” She shook her head, a little too vigorously. On an ordinary day, Jade would worry about that, worry if it had offended her mother and made her feel unwanted. Today, she didn’t care. Theresa stood, giving a soft sigh—not one of her irritated ones, or the ones she gave when someone hurt or offended her. It sounded like giving up. “I’ll call the school.” The school, of course, meant the University of British Columbia. Courtney’s school. Theresa wouldn’t hang up until she’d been told a dozen times that there was no one to take her call. Even then, she might not quit dialing until she received a cease-and-desist letter from a judge. If UBC had anything to say about Courtney, they’d say it to Theresa. She closed Jade’s door, leaving her with light streaming around the cracks in her curtains, and Jade gave in to her tears. The song played through her head, and people screamed as an Epic taunted them, and Jade cried into her pillow. When the sobs had subsided, Jade grabbed her phone. She didn’t think about what she did. She just thought about Courtney disappearing, maybe dying, and pressed the button. It rang and rang. “Hi, you’ve reached Kevin Delancey, independent pilot and part-time flight instructor for the greater Alaska area. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” “Dad?” Jade sniffed. “I—I know you’re working, but…I…I need you. Call me back, okay? I love you. Bye.” She held the phone in her hand for a minute, maybe two, before it rang. “Jadey?” “Dad?” There was wind roaring through the background of his call, and he had to shout. “Got your message—what’s wrong?” She explained as succinctly as she could. “Sit tight, Jadey. I’m on my way.” Quota wasn't there for the killing. He guessed, correctly, that it would be quick, ending with her return to her original hiding place. She ported in, all anger and fear and relief just starting to bloom, and Quota stood outside and soaked it in. His ruse had worked. That chess Epic had taken the blame for his attack, and she had taken the bait. The artificial sweetness was oozing out of her again, coating her anger, masking her fear. But there was something else it couldn't quite cover, not entirely, and it took Quota a moment to identify it. Grief. From an Epic. Not unheard of. Catch them at the right moment, and you could see an Epic mourning something from the life they'd left behind. It was never quite this strong, though. Never so fresh. Never so beautifully, painfully raw. The grief was sinking beneath a mask of sugar and false joy. She thought herself safe, and Quota left her to her delusions. He smiled as he pulled his hood up and made for the armory. His plan wasn't complete, but CorpseMaker would love it anyway.

Lucky. All I'm going to be doing is looking for a job. Nope.

No need to apologize for fun. We'll miss you, though. What kinds of stuff will you be doing? And if Calamity does show up, I'll be the lady who takes in all the abandoned pugs and trains them as attack pugs against all the Epics.

Sadly, yes.

I told my sister that at least six people said she should bow to peer pressure and join. She said all she'd be doing was making drawings; I said she could adopt TooMuchOxy. She said she'd rather have one that was less...drug-induced.

I will. No, of course not. HaHA! I have finished my assignment and will now have the time to finish WoK and learn what the heck these things are!

A Highstorm with terrible people skills.

Definitely good ones. He even wears glasses! Wait a sec—what happens if he meets Murphy? Will Gregory hug him and say "Alcatraz, you're real!" before his pants mysteriously fall to the ground?

If he hears how Nathan wound up with Funtimes and re-imagines it as a Mistborn in a glittery pink mistcloak saving a skaa from a sadistic nobleman, I'm going to scream.