TwiLyghtSansSparkles

A rash, foolish, disgrace to humanity. Panacea could see the evidence of Flashpoint's opinion and didn't argue. Nor did she argue with his defense of Altermind. The illusionist was her employer now, and she would have to find some way to get along. Even if he hired a monster and called him an asset. It's the same way everywhere, she chided herself. Better Altermind than another Steelheart. But as they approached the infirmary, she couldn't shake the sensation that she had made a mistake. That she should have argued with Strongsteel a little more when he mentioned Portland. That had she told him to keep looking, keep wandering, they could have made it…. Too late. She drew a breath and straightened her sleeve, which had been pulled up her arm a quarter-inch higher than the other. Altermind hadn't let the damage go too far, Flashpoint had said, although the definition of too far was often fairly liberal with Epics. If Altermind found another Scorch, she would be around to repair the damage. And Flashpoint could tell her about it. The thought occurred to her suddenly, but once it arrived she didn't send it away. Flashpoint had been no friend to Scorch. His tone fairly dripped with disgust when the name was mentioned. Flashpoint didn't like monsters any more than she did. Panacea smiled to herself. Thoughttown might not be so bad after all. -------------------------------- Fear. What a lovely word. It was even lovelier as a fragrance. If every emotion had a scent, then fear was the bracing sting of chlorine, cleansing the air of weaker things like peace and joy. Fragile things. Stupid things, really. Vanillas leaned on those, clung to them like children to security blankets until someone with sense came along and tore them away. Stripped them of childlike things and reminded them what it was to live in the real world. Fear hung heavily over Portland, and Quota breathed it in. The scent brought a smile to his lips. Nothing better than cold, hard reality to wake you up in the morning. He almost didn't need the coffee in his hand, but he took a sip anyway. Quota strode into the city, autumn wind rippling through his cloak and stirring dead leaves around his boots. Few vanillas were out today, kept inside by the fear he had sensed. He smirked to himself. Fear was power, and he was its wielder. Give him time, and he could make anyone do whatever he pleased. Like that guy there. He zeroed in on a man ducking through an open door. Fear clung to him like metal filings to a magnet. Bet I can make you stop right there and curl up like a baby. Quota reached out and found the hope keeping him upright—hope that once he was inside, he would find safety. He tamped it down, scowling as it rose in protest, and stomped it out the way he might stomp a campfire to ashes. The man leaned against the doorjamb, sliding slowly to the ground. Not what I was going for, but close enough. On a whim, Quota squatted beside him. "Hey. You." The man looked at him, his eyes widening at the sight of a cloak. "You're…an Epic." "Duh. Why's everybody so scared?" Quota couldn't be sure if it was his power, or the way he leaned on the word scared, smiling a bit as he did, that made the man scoot back in a vain attempt at escape. "It's—other Epics." "They got names?" "CorpseMaker—ruled this part of the city for a while. Altermind—Thoughttown. Some—some new group, call themselves the Empire of Light…" Quota rolled his eyes. "Lame. Where's that CorpseMaker guy? He sounds fun." The man shrugged. Quota knew he wouldn't be getting any more information out of him. He patted the man's knee, tamping down what remained of hope, took another sip of coffee, and rose. ​Let's see…no CorpseMaker for now, so who's next? Up ahead, he spotted a mech striding down the street—likely a source of the fear he'd felt—and through the glass windshield he caught a glimpse of white hair. An Epic, then. Quota smiled. Epics were always the most fun.

Thank you? Between Quota and the Disco Ending, I have to wonder how many of my upvotes are fear-inspired. (And to think: he started as a joke.) I'll post his introduction soon, probably after dinner which I suspect will be within the next few minutes.

You hate him already? Then my work here is done.

Quota's bio (also in the Epics of Oregon thread) Name: Quota Primary Power: Quota can dampen all positive emotions to the point that they essentially vanish. With those who have traumatic experiences in their pasts, he is especially dangerous, as this dampening of joy, peace, happiness, etc. will cause their most traumatic memories to rise to the surface. Whether or not he can dampen negative emotions is unknown, as he has never tried. Secondary Power: Low- to mid-range empathy. He can sense strong emotions and uses that as a basis for the targets he chooses. Modus Operandi: Ah, so many people on the bridge today. That lady's stressed….yeah, I'll make that worse. Just a little. Heh. She's crying now. That guy….oh, he's angry. Let's give him a little more of that, and….ah, he just bumped into that chick and lost it. Good stuff. Oh, let's give that chick a little more despair….haha. Awesome. Appearance: Quota wears dark, nondescript clothes that might cause him to be mistaken for a vanilla were it not for the green-grey cloak he never takes off. He has shoulder-legnth dark hair and grey eyes, and is of average height and build. He is fond of coffee and makes a point of finding any remaining coffee shops whenever he arrives in a new city, and thus nearly always has a cup of some sort of latte in his hand.

True. (I still adore those Sadry ponies, by the way.) As a human Dementor should look. I will do that posthaste. Spoiler: He is not a nice person.

Um….

Either way. I was planning on having him stay in the background, make him more of a merc than have him join any one faction, but I thought having Mundivore meet Quota would give him a way to try and get on CorpseMaker's good side, but if it messed with anyone's plans, I'll hold off. Although I'm currently working on a Quota pony.

Kobold, when was Backtrack going to meet the Wackos? Quota still needs to be introduced and begin the glorious revolution against his tyranny. Mundivore seems to be in a good position to meet him, and I was planning to keep Quota somewhat distanced from the Empire until the war begins in earnest.

Favorite character? I think I'll have to go with….yes. Seriously, I can't pick. Each character added something unique and essential to the story, so it's impossible to pick one as a favorite. Mostly, I just want to see the Guardians team up with everyone in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Avengers? Yes. Spiderman? Of course! Deadpool? The awesomeness just might cause every theater in America to explode. Provided I survived, I would see it twice. Edit: Also, Thoughttown is the worst place to find Cotton Candy Land. Once Altermind decides it's time to ruin little Max's childhood, the cotton candy will disappear. In the Empire, Doctor Funtimes can make a real Cotton Candy Land. She'll probably even add peppermint stick trees and saltwater taffy vines.

Welcome Fatebreaker! Join whatever faction you like, but the Empire has dinosaurs AND Remington Springfield. That David pony is awesome. Guardians of the Galaxy is the best Marvel movie since Iron Man.

Shall we revise the Scale of Epic Niceness™?

Excellent question. In the museum, I think it's you or Edge. In the shack, I think it might be Voidus, and in Thoughttown it's Panacea.

I also think that the chief characteristic distinguishing David from High Epics is self-interest. Steelheart's hatred was entirely self-serving: He took over the city and ruled it to sate his own ego. David's obsession with killing Steelheart stemmed from his father's death, yes, but we also see evidence of that hatred being channeled in more positive ways. David makes special note of the way ordinary people suffer under Steelheart's regime; he tells us about how teaching is now a high-class profession, how "you could be casually killed by an Epic" for no reason at all, how the Diggers went insane, how ordinary people aren't allowed to own firearms and are thus defenseless, etc. His hatred of Steelheart leads him to focus at least part of his attention on others, and to pursue revenge to make their lives better. Steelheart's hatred, on the other hand, leads him to focus entirely on himself to the extent he concludes he is actually a god.

Until David kills it, at which point we reach the last line, which is "I was an evil supernova." End book. Roll credits.

….is this a "You monster" moment or a "bow before your genius" moment? David said that the intelligent people were given the highest-level jobs, so I'd imagine that some very clever people were chosen to write those programs. There's a fine line between just enough message and too much message, and it takes a skilled writer to keep from crossing it. Take WWII propaganda cartoons, for instance. I recall watching one in high school where Adolf Hitler, depicted as the Big Bad Wolf, faced down America, Britain, and the Soviet Union, depicted as the Three Little Pigs. At one point, it appears as though the Wolf will win, but at the last possible moment, a volley of bullets and bombs labeled "War Bonds" blows him quite literally to where Satan lives. That cartoon is propaganda in its highest form, but it is well-written, engaging, and quite funny. On the other end of the spectrum, you have North Korean propaganda cartoons. One features a boy who doesn't like doing math. He falls asleep during his homework, and has a dream where a fleet of American warships attacks, and they can only be stopped by correct mathematical calculations. The boy wakes up and does his homework happily. The cartoon is poorly written, poorly done, and not engaging in the slightest. The lackluster delivery makes its message all the more obvious, and causes the viewer to reject it. I think Steelheart knew enough to hire clever writers for his shows, writers who knew how to toe the line between a message and propaganda, or at least knew enough to make propaganda entertaining. And, yes, I also think there was always the danger of a "cameo" to keep them in line.

1. I shall wait with eager anticipation. 2. He could only escape by eating his way out, and by the time he reached terra firma, he would have such a massive sugar high that his only order to his hounds would be "Jump up and down with me, jump up and down, see isn't this fun, jump up and down, up and down!" *manic giggles* 3. Things are getting seriously awesome in here….. 4. I'm not going to expect it. If I expect it, then I'll be seriously disappointed when it doesn't happen. Instead, I'll expect the most boring setting I can. Kansas. In a wheat field. Calamity takes place entirely in a Kansas wheat field.

1. Resisting temptation is too much work. So let's not. 2. He can't gift healing, but I think he could gift strength without taking control. Not that he would. 3. O.o 4. Will I get my wish for a third installment set in New Orleans?

This really is Nightmare Night. 1. Megan is lurking somewhere in Portland. Sweet. 2. I don't know, Conflux was not only able to have a decent conversation, but was very rational and friendly as he did so. I think this had to do with his being a gifter with no self-interest. Nighthound, our evil gifter with a sociopathic level of self-interest, could be considered the anti-Conflux (rational while using his powers, but with every ounce of that rationality used for his own ends) and fits with canon in that regard, in my opinion. Doctor Funtimes was envisioned as a sort of quasi-gifter, with her powers affecting objects instead of people and a host of issues stemming from that (e.g., she can't create human life and thus sees it as special, since she can't just make friends ( ) or fix them when they're hurt). 3. Was that lab in America or Ireland? Because if it was in Ireland, Purple Phoenix needs a completely awesome backstory to explain how he got from Ireland to Oregon. 4. Agreed.

Kobold King, on 19 Sept 2014 - 07:25 AM, said: Thanks! Just wait till you meet him. There are certain scenes I look forward to writing with each of my characters, and with Koschei, I'm eagerly anticipating the part where Remington kills him. Actually, I think I'll just write that scene now, then go back and connect the dots to get there. How does it feel, Koschei, when your own writer can't wait to kill you? Mohound is one of those wonderful opposites-attract ships where no one has to be out of character for it to work.

Steelheart was written as a Complete Monster, so I think it's safe to say he did not bring back Firefly. When I read that, I thought having one hundred entertainment channels was a brilliant move on Steelheart's part. I would imagine they showed mostly sitcoms, cartoons, soaps, sports, etc., all produced in the city under the watchful eye of Steelheart's regime, and probably a few reruns of pre Calamity shows. Those programs were most likely innocuous, entertaining but carefully sanitized of any dangerous themes like rebellion or self-rule. (In other words, all episodes of Doctor Who where the Doctor frees a planet from a superpowered tyrant were strictly verboten, but those where the Doctor fails, acts more like a stereotypical Epic, or never quite learns what's going on, were welcome.) The other shows were probably designed to placate the masses, keep them entertained enough to not think about rebellion. (This was probably taken from number 100 on the Evil Overlord List: "To ensure all my prisoners are too distracted to think about escape, I will provide them with free high-speed Internet access 24 hours a day.")

Yes. You also have permission to teleport his eyes out again when he grows them back. You may do this as many times as you wish.

He murdered Voidgaze twice and made Ray wear a dog collar. He'll probably betray all three factions at the same time just to prove he can. Good. Hope it does last. Getting your wisdom teeth out sucks.

Nighthound was never brought up because I thought it was a given that everyone in this story, up to and including inanimate objects, hates him. How are you feeling, what with your wisdom teeth out and all?

Mobius: I'm going to lock you in a pocket universe and kill you. Lightwards: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH *dies* Mobius: Well? Are you up for Round Two? Lightwards: It has been fun, but I must go now. *runs to Oregon* ….yeah. COMMIE! That orange! It clearly means she's a Soviet Communist, because red and yellow together make orange! SHE'S A COMMIE AND YOU'RE A COMMIE TOO!!!!1!!!!11!!!!!! I like it, actually. EDIT: And here is the Laurie pony: I know that no self-respecting hunter would wear a pink vest out in the woods, but I added it for aesthetic reasons.