TwiLyghtSansSparkles

True. My planning for Mister Meh involved going to the Uncyclopedia and scrolling through a list of terrible superheroes until I found a name that stuck out to me.

I didn't think anyone still cared about Mister Meh.

And, going back to the fear thing, it's something of a contradiction to remain calm around something you fear. For years I had crippling social anxiety, and if going to parties had calmed me, I would've wondered if someone had spiked the punch.

Sourcefield's weakness just made her panic, driving her to anger. The same could be said of Steelheart's weakness. Newton's weakness made her pause, but it couldn't be said to calm her.

Those are all very human connections, too. A guy who had been publicly humiliated by a woman wouldn't just be a bit nervous around her; he'd be nervous around all women. A girl who was poisoned by Kool-Aid wouldn't spit out the Kool-Aid but drink the generic stuff; she'd spit it all out and probably never visit that host again. And, as you pointed out, a schoolyard bully wouldn't just be wary of the one kid who stood up to him; he'd be wary of anyone who didn't cower when he came into view. Fear doesn't discriminate. It compels people to avoid things it sees as a threat--and when it comes to deeper fears, it's like one of those overzealous security systems that sets off an alarm when a stray cat gets too close.

How? That sounds like it'll take some time, what with reshaping all of those skulls to form one giant skull, reshaping and reprogramming all those brains into one giant brain, plus the internal organs and body mass….I mean, it sounds really cool, but it also sounds like it'll take a while.

"Eat THIS, never starve again!*" *Offer only good in the presence of Big Al. Alliance with Big Al essential to obtain full access to Sausage McMuffins.

Which is why I'm going to resist Flashback shipping. Flashrunner is a million times more adorable. (That, and I'm pretty sure Backtrack would be too afraid of Flashpoint to introduce himself, much less date him. )

And I will refrain from Flashback shipping.

Big Al and Voidgaze need a date. A picnic, maybe. Certainly not all this death and destruction. Who's with me?

Apologies for the lack of detail in the Quota post, by the way. I've been under the weather these past few days, and a little more strapped for time than usual, having just found out the library where I intern wants me there every Monday AND Friday.

(As accurate as I could make it, calculating from Lightwards' first post at the Sadrys'. )

It was. I'd assumed he'd put the heart down for their stunt at the coffee shop. And there's still time for Lycra!Lightwards.

New Nathan/Quota post up. I left it open for word to reach Altermind about the MEE attack while Funtimes is there, if that's what you were planning, and I left Quota's plans up in the air for now. Also, with Funtimes, I figured that when her drunkenness got out of control, Altermind would have Intervention sober her up a bit. If he wouldn't, or if he can't, let me know and I'll change it.

“Is there any more urgent business to consider?” Lightwards asked. “I have a fortress to close down for the night.” There are few things worse than sitting less than four feet from an angry Epic. Sitting less than four feet from an angry Epic who happens to be drunk is one of them. Some claimed no difference between a drunk Epic and a sober one, but Nathan knew better. A sober Epic might shoot first and ask questions later, but once he decided to shoot, he rarely changed his mind. One angry thought, one pull of the trigger, and the confrontation was over and done. A drunk Epic, on the other hand, might rant and rave and never pull the trigger. He might aim for the heart, or he might aim for the kneecap. He might hand the object of his anger over to his colleague, or he might take that unfortunate person home for special treatment. Nathan had no idea how Lightwards managed it without a drop of alcohol on the table, but he knew a drunk Epic when he saw one. His glare was directed at Funtimes, for the time being, but one stray thought and that could change. One stray thought and he would choose a new target. One stray thought and he would point an accusing finger down the table. One stray thought and Nathan’s secret would be exposed to a room full of Epics. Funtimes drew a long breath, ending her giggle fit with a cheery “Noperoonies! No more businessy-business stuff.” Her words slurred a bit, and Nathan felt a small jolt of panic. If Lightwards was a mean drunk, what kind of drunk was she? And how had she managed to get drunk without drinking? “We got a fortress thingy up there,” she continued, reigning in the slur slightly, “and I gotta get home an’ think ‘bout what you want for colors and stuff.” She giggled again, leaning toward Altermind, and jerked her thumb toward Lightwards, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. “He reminds me of someone. Betcha can’t guess who.” She fell back against her seat, covering her mouth as the giggles took her once more. Nathan wasn’t sure how long they lasted, but when they ended, she spoke without a slur. “Great Noodly One, it feels like this meeting thingy’s gone on for-eh-ver!” “I quite agree,” Nathan said sincerely, standing to his feet and offering her a hand. “It feels like years! Days! Months, even!” Resisting the urge to glance at Lightwards, Nathan took the bait. “How many months, darling?” “I dunno,” she said with a cheerful shrug. “Like, two months, sixteen days, seven hours, and forty minutes or so.” “That’s very specific,” he said. “Not my fault the meeting was soooooo loooooonnnnnng.” Timeport knew how to party. Others could say what they would, but only the weakest wouldn’t call a night where vanillas were decapitated by slips of paper and their own sleeves a party. It was a hell of a time. A bloody good night. Quota held the door for his teleporting friend, knowing he wouldn’t bother. True to form, Timeport simply ported past the doorway. “Calamity, you’re fun,” Quota said with a laugh. “What say we hit the streets?” ---------------------------------------------------------- Fear and despair hung heavy over the neighborhood, like mist. Unlike mist, the cloud grew stronger with distance. Quota felt it, a palpable force growing the further they went down the sidewalk. He unconsciously quickened his pace. Another Epic was having just as much fun as they were, and Quota wasn’t about to let it pass him by. Sure enough, bodies were strewn all along the street. Their skin bore burn marks, some carved into designs like lightning bolts, some not. Eyes stared sightlessly toward the darkened sky. Limbs were bent and twisted at odd angles. And there, striding through the cloud of terror and the mass of bodies, was Electro. He radiated confidence. Power. Anger. Pleasure. Quota nudged Timeport as the idea struck. Grinning, Timeport did as suggested, and Quota hurried toward Electro. “Well, well, well. Looks like you’ve been having some fun.” Quota couldn’t hold his grin back, and he didn’t try. He lifted the severed hand Timeport had given him. “Need a hand?”

The All the Wrong Questions series by Lemony Snicket are quick reads, but they're fun ones. I'd say the same for his Unauthorized Autobiography. If you don't mind having your heart torn out, broken, healed, and put back into your chest (metaphorically speaking), try The Tale of Despereaux and The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, both by Kate DiCamillo. Her Flora and Ulysses is a lighter, but just as thoughtful, offering. For TV shows, Terra Nova is an excellent series that ended too soon. For humor, I'd recommend Worst Cooks in America, and for drama, you can't do better than Downton Abby.

He definitely would, and adding him to the mix would certainly raise the bar. But I was wondering if Portland would last the night with Upgraded!Timeport, Electro, and Quota. Funny as it would be to see Lightwards step out of the Sadrys' intent on conquering Portland, only to find that his little neighborhood is the only part of town still standing, it doesn't seem the direction we were heading earlier.

Maybe? It might help Quota affect Funtimes more strongly when he sees her, but that introduces the problem of Electro, Timeport, and Quota all getting Upgraded right around the same time. It's not exactly a future I want to contemplate. I'll just wake up early-ish tomorrow and see what inspires me.

Okay, see, the problem here is that you're assuming the bar hasn't been set high enough already. To even come close to what Electro and Timeport just did, Quota will need to sit down to an evening tea of boiled kittens while casually waving the nuclear missile launch codes in front of Timeport's face, then touch off a race to see who can start a nuclear holocaust first.

Okay, so I've gone over the last couple of Timeport and Electro posts. Just so I've got this right: Timeport and Quota are leaving the coffee shop, and Electro headed toward them? They'll presumably meet up in some area halfway between the sites of their respective atrocities, correct? Edit: Oh my gosh. I just went to my school's discussion forum, where we've been discussing the strategic plan for the Chicago Public Library, and one of my classmates wondered how the plan appeared to "the average Chicago Joe." I don't know which Chicago Joe she's thinking of, but I doubt ours cares much about libraries.

So, okay, they're not really heroes, per se, except for the guy who took out an immortal Epic all by his lonesome. But—c'mon. If you don't want to see the movie after watching this trailer, you're probably the most boring person on the planet. And we're guessing you don't have a pulse, either. Which is fine. Dead people aren't big theatergoers. I learned something today. In 2001, a man named Ryan Roberts was accepted to NASA's co-opt program. Although he had always dreamed of going to the moon, he changed his mind when he saw a collection of moon rocks and one from Mars in a locked safe. He fell for an intern, who conspired with him in stealing the moon—which they did several months later. You might ask what sort of heist they pulled off to get a 600-pound moon rock out the door. From what I understand, they just sort of walked out. Yeah. So when he tried to sell the moon rock, it turns out the buyers were undercover FBI agents, because of course they were. The FBI agents Roberts somehow didn't suspect of working for the FBI searched his apartment—and found he had also stolen several fossils from a museum in Utah. What is the moral of this story? Lightwards' real name isn't Thomas Cardinal, apparently. That, or he changed it sometime between the year 2001 and Calamity's rise.

He gets drunk and contemplates shooting everyone. She gets drunk and contemplates how much an ally reminds her of a woman while wondering how she can best carry out a Mafia-style execution on him. Together, they... Um... ...they don't really fight crime so much as cause it, actually....

Not yet. Thank my professors and the classroom overachievers. I'll have it done by the time I post next in the meeting, though.

You forgot the panel where a pouting Funtimes asks why she doesn't get a letter full of singing cowboys.

Nighthound Quota Timeport Nighthound Lucentia Nighthound Lightwards Quicksilver Reader Nighthound CorpseMaker Electro Nighthound Nighthound Nighthound Huh. That's way more than ten.