TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Panacea heard the conversation, but registered little of it. Mare— ​Just breathe, Pan, it'll be okay— —had— Don't make a fuss, it's not a big deal, not like that paper cut— —a— Don't move, just stay here, let Strongsteel handle it— —lock of hair, a beautiful lock of shining dark hair— ​Don't do it, you don't need to, she'll fix it— —out of place. Panacea released Strongsteel's arm and hurried over to Mare. Exhaling in frustration, Panacea gave Mare her most disarming smile. "Excuse me, Mare, but your lovely hair seems to have been mussed during your trip Would you like to borrow my hairbrush?" "It's not that. They're just... they're just all the same. They can't just leave us alone..." After eight years beneath Calamity's light, Remington thought he was used to having his heart twisted and squeezed, thought himself accustomed to the harshness of their brave new world. Thought he'd taught himself to forget Laurie, standing in those woods. "Why can't you just leave us alone?" Thought he'd forgotten that smile. The sort of smile a demon might wear. "Just leave us alone, Koschei. Leave us alone, and we won't bother you none." The hippie put her arms around them both, causing him to start. "Funtimes is taking care of things, and eventually she'll get bored enough to let us get away. Then you can all visit where I live. We'll all be laughing our heads off over this and eating fresh summer squash." "I'm afraid that is no longer possible." Funtimes wasn't Koschei. She smiled too much, clapped her hands like a kid, giggled at nothing. She ate sugar on sugar for breakfast and liked animal furniture more than any adult should. Of course, none of those would mean anything if her smile turned icy…. "She gave you a chainsaw." The poor girl needed a thought to calm her. "Gave me a gun. Ever met an Epic who'd arm you and say 'Go to town'?" The sound of manic laughter came from upstairs. Laughter at a fellow Epic. Laughter shared with an ordinary guy in a nice suit who couldn't throw a punch. She wasn't Koschei.

All right, I'll post something and then head to bed.

Now, or after Altermind?

Now try to imagine being one of those lesser mortals forced to serve Snakehands without laughing in his face. "Can I…" *snort* "get you another drink, Snakehands?" "It's Lord Snakehands to you. And I'll take another beer." *snort* "Of course, Lord Snakehands." "Aw, bad roll. Snake eyes." Fortunately, the kitchen wasn't far, so Nathan was able to laugh his backside off in peace. Ah, time. The enemy of many an online RPer.

You know what you need, Kobold? A rant. A nice, long, typo-ridden rant about how Brandon Sanderson eats gym shorts. That should do the trick.

I always knew Spam was bad for you. If he survives, that will be his first order of business on hearing of Steelheart's death. Snakehands was an Epic of my own creation, based on this entry from DC's Super Hero Dictionary: His powers are exactly what you see in the picture: he has snakes for hands. His somewhat underwhelming powers were not helped by his overconfidence and overall boastful attitude. It took the servers quite a while to find someone able to take his table without bursting into laughter. In that particular casino, just saying the name "Snakehands" will cause any servers currently taking a sip of water to choke and/or spit it out from laughing. Was Pixie's Lantern in existence before Calamity?

1882: Telegraph Hill Observatory opens in San Francisco; Congress passes first law restricting immigration; martial law is imposed in Japan; and the first string of Christmas tree lights is created by Thomas Edison.

Yes, but Spam is such an uncertain food-like substance that I doubt he'd be able to raise anything from it. I figured that if he was, it would be for purely practical reasons and not any sort of moral conviction. That, or he'd stick to things like salmon and clams that, while tasty, wouldn't be much help in a fight. He does miss his friends, almost all of whom worked at the casino. It was a strange place to make friends, given that any one of them could die at any time for little to no reason, but that was part if what drew them together. That, and their penchant for mocking Epics like Snakehands behind their backs. As for whether he wants to go back: Yes, to see his friends, but he's too scared of Fortuity to actually ask Funtimes to take him there. Even after a few months for everything to blow over, he would be too afraid that the sight of him would make things worse for the others where Fortuity is concerned to visit his friends. What about Revolution? What was daily life like at her commune?

As long as we're asking Epic questions...is Lightwards a vegetarian?

Cheese? Come ON. She'd turn it into cake. The bigger an object, the more time and concentration it takes for her to transform it. Transforming the moon into cake would take years, and she would need to be close enough to do it. So that's out of the question for now.

You've seen their coat of arms? More alarming: Their family is old enough to have a coat of arms…and it's a trollface? I hadn't thought about that, but I think that if she were to try, it would either be impossible or so difficult and time-consuming that she would give up and go eat ice cream or something. Humans are just too complex and highly individualized for her to create. She might be able to get all the physical attributes right—circulatory, respiratory, nervous systems and whatnot—but the factors that determine personality and thought are too mysterious for us to grasp, let alone for her to replicate. So I suppose what I'm trying to say is: We know too little about what makes humanity tick for Doctor Funtimes to create a human being. A dolphin or a gorilla would probably be out of her reach as well.

In 1875, Jesse James robbed a train in Otterville, Missouri, and Brigham Young University was founded.

Yeah….like her brother, Lucentia's gift is not conflict resolution. Humans are one of the few things she can't create from organic or inorganic materials. Why do you think she stole a friend instead of making one?

The diamond moved with far greater speed than any diamond had a right to move. Doctor Funtimes cut a hole in the floor, keeping close to the far wall, and soon vanished into the crawlspace. That left Nathan, Remington, Samantha, the hippie, and the Unicyclist to keep the diamonds at bay as she put whatever plan she had into effect. It was like fighting the ocean. Towering red waves lunged from the wall, trapping the refrigerator like a fly in amber. They rippled and lurched, keeping Nathan hopping back as they lapped at his feet. Once, the diamond nearly caught hold of his shoe, but he leaped back and attacked it with vigor. This was Lucentia's diamond. Every time he considered giving up, he thought of her, of her haughty eyes, of the way she demanded pity and proclaimed them lesser than she by virtue of what she had suffered—what could she suffer, anyway, as a queen who took a sandwich dress as an unforgivable insult when she could just make a new one out of diamonds— Nathan's next attack was too ambitious. He tried to strike at the heart of the diamond, but the diamond took hold of the blade, wrapping around it and sucking it in like a python swallowing a rodent. He tugged back, but the diamond was stronger than he was. The chainsaw was torn from his grip, and sent him stumbling backward. There was a giggle in his ear. Funtimes helped him stand, looped her arm through his, and took him to Samantha—then the hippie—then the Unicyclist—and Remington, who was still taking strong, deliberate swings with his chainsaw, last of all. Their next trip landed them in the hole, which she closed with a wave of her hand just as a bit of red peered over the lip. In the darkness, she giggled. And then there was light, shining from her headlamp, illuminating what used to be the crawlspace. The foundation had been lowered enough for even Remington to stand upright, the excess material repurposed to create, in part, a headlamp resting at each person's feet. Remington put his on, then retrieved Samantha's for her and handed it over with a reassuring pat on her shoulder. The poor girl was shaking. So was Nathan, but his trembling was due more to rage than fright. Remington saw it and cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. Funtimes also declined to comment, but the gleam in her eye said it all. She knew he hated Lucentia. And she didn't think it bad. "Okie dokie loki," she said, clapping her hands. As Remington's headlamp swooped over her hair, Nathan caught a glimmer of red diamond dust. "There's some oxygen tanks and masks over there in case the diamond gets this far." She cut off with a giggle, and added, "Which it won't. Anyhoodle, there's more chainsaws. Me and Traveler've got a surprise for her." Her surprise was hidden in a wooden crate nearly as long as she was tall, which she claimed by planting a foot on top like a pirate on a chest of buried treasure. Another chainsaw appeared from a raised block of concrete, and Nathan took it without question. He didn't want to go back up there. Yes he did. Lucentia would get what she deserved, a rare event for Epics. It would be worth watching. She could kill them…. Funtimes giggled and looped her arm through his. "Close as you can," she said, and then they were gone. -------------------------- "Close as you can" was too close for Nathan's comfort. No—it was just close enough. Ten feet, maybe more. Funtimes snapped her fingers, catching the diamond queen's attention with a sing-song "Oh Lu-cent-i-a!" Lucentia turned, but Funtimes' attack was already underway. The crate had vanished, unleashing a flock of... Of…. They moved so quickly Nathan couldn't tell what they were, nor could he count them. A swarm of blurs cut through the air with a nearly deafening buzz, moving toward Lucentia at the speed of thought, attacking not the diamond queen, but the black wires linking her to the crimson waves. Only when a stray wire wrapped around a blur and cast it down did Nathan see what it was. It was a wind-up bird, painted like the brightest birds from the tropics, with saw blades instead of wings. Her arm still in his, Funtimes reached toward one of the diamond walls her birds had cut from Lucentia's control. The transformation began at the bottom, working its way to the top like flame through paper, melting the diamond into hundreds—thousands—millions of small, caramel-colored things wrapped in wax paper. Nathan lifted one and recognized a candy he hadn't been able to afford in years: a praline. She had done it. The battle wasn't over, but her counterattack had already destroyed one of Lucentia's weapons. He felt a rush of admiration for this woman, this Epic, who countered rage with whimsy. Funtimes was already working on her third wall. Nathan led the praline aloft. "Well, Lucentia? What will it be? She can keep going with the pralines, or she can do something less tasty like spiders." To prove it was edible, he unwrapped the candy and took a bite. "The choice is yours."

He looks terrifying. Is this to be a nightmare contest? (And yes, you must ponify yourself at your earliest convenience.)

Awesome. I'll get started on that soonish, but it might be a while until I'm near an actual computer again. Probably, but she'll just take the wreckage and make another one. Things like "damage" and "destruction" kind of lose their bite when you can make an army of polar bears from the ashes of an Empire. Not the Empire of Light, just any old Empire, who's talking about destroying the Empire of Light anyway, my, Lightwards, you do look nice today....

I'll think of something to make cutting through it plausible. Explosives or something, maybe. The original post didn't make it sound like they were growing at the moment she cut through, though.... Okay, so if Funtimes were to cut into the floor, lower the foundation, and use some of that concrete to make a flock of, say, 50 or 100 flying bird toys with spinning saw blades for wings, appeared in front of her with Nathan as a distraction, and sent the birds toward her all at once, would that work? Not necessarily going for a win here; just a stalemate with the four-year-old Queen of Astoria.

You throw weird parties. So, about Lucentia. How far off the ground are the diamond wires connecting her to the red wall things, how thick are they, and what would happen if a certain someone, and I'm not mentioning names, were to send some sort of a small flying saw up through the floor by Lucentia and cut those wires? How quick would such a contraption need to be, and would having an entire flock of them help? Also, what sort of candy can Nathan offer her to snap her out of her temper tantrum?

Or his parties would actually be deathtraps. Yeah….I wanted to keep it somewhat close to PG-ish, and stay away from too much of the nightmare fuel. Saving that up for my Emotionally Scarring Backstories™!

Ever since I hit the quadruple digits with my reputation level, I've glanced at the number each time it changes to see if it reminds me of a year. I got inordinately excited when it was at 1776, and now I'm looking at it and thinking, "Oh, 1860. Tensions between the Northern and Southern United States were heating up. One more upvote and the Civil War will start." So, uh….what happened in your reputation year?

Just you wait, Lightwards. Just you wait until Funtimes shows up for work. (Oh, and this had better not go on her performance review, because bad performance reviews make her angry. Very angry indeed. )

Sounds good. I wonder how it would go if different characters led anti-bullying seminars? Lightwards Doctor Funtimes Voidgaze Nighthound

"Question 1: What would happen if a slightly insane GM managed to find and recruit a small group of fun, talented, geeky writers who all enjoyed Steelheart, over-thinking things, and My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic?"

Scorch walked, scowling at the ground. He hated walking—always had, but especially since he'd kicked that storming robot's leg, hurting his own foot. Someday, he thought darkly, I'll get revenge on that thing. Actually, why not now? With a grin, Scorch lit the interior of his mech on fire, burning it to ashes. Mundivore gave him an incredulous stare. "Great," Mundivore said, "now how are we supposed to get home?"

Oh, Joe, now that you're on, feel free to time-skip ahead to Scorch introducing Mundivore to CorpseMaker. There's not a whole lot for Scorch to do here except walk.