TwiLyghtSansSparkles

"Where do you find your inspiration?" Inspiration. That was a nice word. It made Doctor Funtimes think of lighthouses, whales diving into the sea, candles shining in the darkness with words written in pretty letters. Glossy covers that opened to messages like You have a special place in my life, you fill a hole I didn't know I had. Wait—no, that wasn't right. Maybe it was CUSTOMER SERVICE: Steering Our Customers Away from the Rock of Competition? No, that was a poster. No one had liked that poster, so she had turned it into a poster of a kitten holding a lacy pink box and saying…. Wait—she was supposed to be answering a question. What was it again? Inspiration. Where did she find it? And something about bunny castles? Doctor Funtimes grinned at Saccharine. "I like bunnies. And hamsters. And kittens." She giggled, staring at the feast Saccharine had produced from her pockets. Sugar, tea, cookies, doilies, tablecloths, a kettle, and fire. Saccharine could take fire from her pockets. Even if it was just chemicals, she could take fire from her pockets. She invited people to tea. She gave them cookies. She looked at Purple Phoenix like he was the only man in the world who mattered. She knew that Nathan needed to be kept safe, and not only because he was a "brave little body" who might go to waste if Lightwards didn't shoot him and turn him into a— Stay positive. Funtimes looked down at her hands, which had coiled to fists around the tablecloth. Her heart pounded like it had when she trapped Lightwards in tar. Not that he didn't deserve it. If anything, he deserved to be trapped in acid, some sort of acid that pulled him down like quicksand. Stay positive. Stay. Positive. Kittens. Hamsters. Pug puppies in giant sunglasses shaped like hearts. Nathan holding a pug puppy wearing sunglasses shaped like hearts. Nathan and Sam and Revolution and Remington and the Unicyclist all holding pug puppies in sunglasses shaped like hearts. All of them smiling and cooing over the pug puppies, happy because of the little balls of cuteness in their arms. Nathan would like pug puppies. No—he would love them. Not like her last boyfriend. She felt herself begin to smile and allowed it to spread, welcoming the giggle like an old friend. Her stomach unclenched, and she felt light again. Like she could skip through the jungle, tossing flowers in her wake. Maybe she could do that later. "People inspire me. Nice people. Like my friends." She drew in a long gasp, clapping her hands to her cheeks. "You haven't met my friends yet! You're nice and my friends are nice and my friends would like you so much! We should go—" Tea. Cookies. Labs. She sat back down. "Later," she said with a giggle, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and cradling her chin in her hands. "Why do you like labs?" "We came to see what happened in Oregon." Silence followed Aldo's story, and Nathan had no words to fill it with. Mile after mile of ashes and devastated countryside. No cities. No trees. No people. Nothing but the ashes left after the greatest carnage the world will ever see. That was Oregon as seen by the most powerful precog in the Fractured States. Nathan was staring, but he couldn't stop himself. Couldn't think of a thing but Oregon, burned to ashes and left to rot. The Tennessee Sibyl, the most powerful precog on the planet, had seen it. Oregon would burn. Funtimes had brought him to a battlefield. ​That sweet old gal…most powerful precog…. Aldo was staring expectantly. What was he waiting for? A reaction of some sort, or payment for the story— A story for a story. Nathan forced a smile and a chuckle. "Well, aside from the painting, I'd say you're lucky. I've known a few precogs, and 'sweet' is the last word I'd use. The night I met Funtimes, I was—believe it or not—a server, working for a precog named Fortuity…." He described the night in detail—locking Fortuity in his bathroom with a malicious doorknob, turning a door into bubble wrap and bullets into croutons, Funtimes' glee and Fortuity's helpless rage. He left out the knife, the table, and the white robe in favor of gumball doors and plenty of laughter. Aldo didn't need to know everything.

I think it would be fun to celebrate one of our favorite memes by introducing it to classic works of literature.

Definitely. (Poor guy just can't catch a break. )

When should i post the next Koschei scene? It needs reworking.

He would be seriously jealous of what Koschei can do when he resurrects.

He is certainly flawed. He can be sniveling, cowardly, and downright apathetic. But I think it's his reactions to Koschei that started it: Were it Nighthound watching, he'd sit back and watch with a smile. Lightwards would either be in awe of Koschei's power, or start jotting down ideas. Backtrack had a very visceral, very human reaction, proving there's still some good in him that he doesn't try to snuff out. If he lets this journey to the past work the way the first flashback did, he would have a definite shot at redemption.

I like him quite a bit. He already seems like a Worthy Opponent for Vondra. And...call me crazy, but am I the only one beginning to grow a bit fond of Backtrack? Maybe it's partly because I feel sorry for him, torturing him with Koschei's twisted mind, but I kind of like the guy.

"I am GETTING RID of this STUPID museum an' its STUPID jungle an' its STUPID STUPID EMPEROR!"Lightwards backed away, laughing nervously. "Now, now, Traveler--" "It's NATHAN!" he slurred. "Nathan, then. Don't you want to sit down and talk this out, like you usually do? Or--oh! Don't you want your own dinosaur?" "I don't wanna dinosaur. I wanna see you go splat when I figure how ta shut off the flying mechanism thingy. This Museum is a symbol of oppression an'....an' YOU! I wanna see it go splat." ..... I kind of like hammered!Nathan, actually....

A canon it is. I'll post the next flashback when things get underway a bit more. (Kidnapped by a wacko, rescued by a wacko, punched by a wacko, cornered and ominously foreshadowed to by a wacko. I need to give him a break soon, or his eye will twitch worse than Panacea's. He'll have to change his moniker from Traveler to Twitchy.)

Could be. Or maybe the sanctuary is set aside as the memorial and the offices are now an office? I could see them making concessions, what with vanillas moving back to the city in search of safety, needing the space and using existing buildings first. And I can see Vondra setting up offices nearby to protect the site from vandals. (I loved it. Now to figure out how Nathan will respond past "Wow. That was...something else." Mostly how to write that he sanitized his own story without relating a bunch of information we've already read.)

Oh, that would be super creepy, if the offices were in a former church and Backtrack saw what had happened there. The only problem I can see is that what happens in the church is kind of horrific, and Vondra seems like more of the type to turn it into a memorial than an office. Maybe Vondra asks for a demonstration to prove his powers are harmless? Or the "peek into the past" contest with Reader could take a dark turn....

Kobold, what will Bactrack's path through town and time with Vondra look like? I'm just trying to plan out when to sprinkle in the rest of the Koschei flashbacks, and if having one that takes place in a church would be too logistically problematic.

Doo weeee oooohhhhh....Fortuity+Upgrade+many years=bittersweet Bactrack shipping story.

Names aren't my strong suit. Doctor Funtimes and Waffle-Fist are about the height of my creativity.

Either way, I think. ….if you want him to be? Gah, there are so few decent names for sniper Epics out there, and Koschei would never in a million years work with a guy who called himself Bullet Shooter Man.

One scream, then another, drew Koschei's attention to the shattered windows. Bodies fell from the sky, their cries ending abruptly when they hit the ground. It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men…. The snatch of music floated into his head from no memory Koschei could pinpoint, but it drew a smile. Part of him whispered he was above such petty amusement, but he smiled anyway. "What is your name?" he asked the woman. Before she could answer, the loudest crash of all sounded behind them. Koschei spun just in time to see a solid, dark-haired man, his legs enveloped in black mist, wait before getting to his feet and offering a smart salute with what remained of a severed and smashed human arm. "Sup?" That was worth more than a grin. That salute, that smile—that was clever. Koschei laughed. "I was just getting to know my latest…." He paused, mulling over the list of words. Acquaintance suited, but not well enough, and companion was too familiar a term. Lady friend might amuse the newcomer, who looked her up and down with a gleam in his eye, but this lady was nowhere near a friend to him. "Convert." The word seemed pulled from the recesses of his mind, but the moment he settled on it, he realized its perfection. He smiled, tipping her chin, and spoke as he looked into her eyes. "Given the former state of your legs, I'm to assume you began on the roof?"

o.O I never thought Backtrack would be the one to bring the Timey-Wimey Ball to Oregon.

"My one regret is that he died before I could kill him." Nighthound raised an eyebrow. "You have issues, Backtrack."

"Ladies and gentlemen, Koschei the Deathless is in the house!" "Hey! That's my line!" "Shut up, Backtrack!"

Trying to decide if thinking of that song would be out of character....

I will add Koschei's response when I've figured out precisely how amused he should be.

Does a building rise and float away with each repetition of "Let it go, let it go…"?

By asking questions no one should ever have to ask? I believe that is called "dramatic irony."

If her brain managed to heal itself from that, she would go Rambo on Nighthound the moment she got to her feet.

This raises an interesting question that I had not yet considered: How would Koschei respond to a salute with a severed arm? o.O