TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Doctor Funtimes was still giggling—most likely over the prospect of bombing Nighthound again—when Samantha yelped and leaped a good three feet from the table. Her chair fell to the floor with a clatter. The goth cast a nervous glance under the table before backing against the far wall, pressing herself against it as though wishing to blend with the paint, her eyes still on whatever lurked beneath the cinnamon rolls. "Doctor? A little help?" Nathan peered under the table, his eyes widening. Sure enough, a wave of diamonds, not unlike those forming Lucentia's arm, was oozing its way toward Samantha's chair. Straightening, he too backed away, motioning for the hippie and the Unicyclist to do the same. After waving her hand briefly at the diamonds, Funtimes backed away, motioning one over the table and one toward the floor. As the diamonds seeped out from the table's shadow, table, plates, food, and floor became steel, folding together into a large box that encased the diamond from all sides, the doors shutting with a loud crash before sealing themselves together. Funtimes directed a glance toward Samantha, who stood against the wall wide-eyed and one sock missing, still watching the box. With a smile not unlike the one she'd given Lightwards during the gasoline incident, Funtimes looked at Lucentia and tilted her head. "How long did you want to be here, Lucentia? Friends can stay forever, but you I'm not sure about." "Attempting bodily harm on one of our servants without permission is rather rude," Nathan added, though he wasn't certain how wise it was. Ah, well. You carpet bombed Nighthound and lived to tell about it. Maybe you'll live through meeting his sister, too. Scorch had never thought working for an absurdly powerful Epic would be so much work. He didn't like to admit it, but working under Altermind had been easy. Sure, he had to deal with Flashpoint's idiocy, and driving the imbecile truck was never his favorite, but Altermind's expectations were comparatively low. If he did what he was told around the second or third time he was told to do it, he could stave off the illusionists' wrath for another hour or two. Keep it up, and he had a surefire way to stay ahead of the curve. Now there was a stupid vanilla army officer standing at his door and offering him a stupid salute with a stupid expressionless look on his face. "Scorch?" Scorch drove a flaming fist into the side of his robot, leaving the distinct mark of four knuckles in the metal. "Little busy." "Scorch, CorpseMaker has told me to inform you that you can either recruit an Epic by the end of the day, or he will wrap you in comics and send you to Altermind." Scorch blinked at the lieutenant once or twice. There was no hint of humor on the man's face. With a sigh, he turned from his robot. "Fine. I'll recruit a stupid Epic." Once the lieutenant was gone, Scorch kicked the robot's foot. ------------------------------------- He left the armory in his robot. Stupid storming robot with stupid metal feet that storming hurts when you try and let off a little steam…He hated the thing for injuring him, but it was faster than walking and a good way to hide the limp for now. He hoped no one had heard the muffled scream he'd loosed when he learned just how badly kicking a steel robot could hurt. Marching down the street in a giant metal mech suit gave him a sense of power, even greater than the rush he felt from throwing a fireball into a crowd. There was something deeply satisfying about the crash of metal on asphalt, of watching vanillas scatter as he strode down the street. Were he the type, he might have whistled. Let's see….random Epic, random Epic, where's a random Epic? It wasn't until he neared the southeast corner of the city that he spotted a likely candidate. The man was of average height and average build, wearing a perfectly normal jeans and T-shirt with a light jacket. Only his white hair and confident, unhurried gait gave it away. This man was an Epic, and therefore perfect. Scorch pressed a button on the control console, opening a door and stepping out. Although the step was more of a barely-corrected tumble, when he landed on his injured foot. Scowling at the pain, he turned to the man. "Hey, you. Name's Scorch. You wanna join a guy named CorpseMaker?"

Cool. Prepare to have a fire Epic in a terrible mood greet you!

Where in the city is Mundivore currently?

Well, I just thought of an obsessive perfectionist healer, so I'll take the healer.

I could be persuaded to adopt one of them.

I was not expecting that.

As if zombies, a basilisk with a temper, a cheerful poisoner, Stalkerface McCreeperton, a guy who causes pain for fun, and actual DRAGONS aren't enough reason?

I wonder if there'll be a chance for Funtimes to make Dalek shells....

Everyone? Like, all of them? I'm having flashbacks to a story I heard about where the author didn't know how to end it, so she had a dirigible fall from the sky and crush all her characters.

Ummm....a lot? Scorch is going to die a traitor, so it might be nicely ironic to have Flashpoint stay loyal to the end.

He's a busy man. He can't write a personal letter to everyone. Edit: Flashpoint could die and be replaced with someone else, if you wanted to go that route.

I just got a darkly humorous image of one of Thoughttown's Epics getting a pink slip: "Dear Sir or Madam, Due to recent economic events beyond our control, Thoughttown will be downsizing our staff. Unfortunately for you, your position is no longer needed. You will be sacrificed to an angry basilisk Epic named CorpseMaker at your earliest convenience. "Regards, "Altermind."

I don't know, but upvoted for sheer hilarity.

I have volunteered Scorch for the cause. And once again, as a good human being, I suggest Nighthound be sacrificed in place of Big Al. Edit: Mech suits and laser swords are completely doable.

She has to know at least the basics of how what she's making works. Her powers are partly fueled through her imagination, allowing her to create complex engineering feats in a short amount of time, but to create something like the museum's floating mechanism she had to know what a device like that would realistically need. So to create shardplate, she would need to know how make a sword sharp enough to slice souls.

That's where I got the disco alligator closet from. I accept your terror-upvote and retreat to my dungeon to devise the epilogue: "Möbius and Funtimes go to Vegas." I'd need some info on what shardplate looks and acts like...I haven't gotten that far yet. Edit: Yeah, anything dealing with metaphysics is a bit above her pay grade.

Yes. Yes it is. In "The Disco Ending," Lightwards learns Nathan's secret and sends Nighthound to assassinate him. After a successful and gruesome attempt, a furious and heartbroken Funtimes strikes up an alliance with Möbius. They trap Lightwards and Nighthound in a pocket universe consisting of a closet filled with alligators and disco balls. It's....it's kind of a dark ending, actually....

You don't. You can't, so you don't. WHIO Alternate Ending #30?

You know, even someone trained to be as subservient as Nathan was has his limits. This is him stopping a fight (taken from page 40):"Lightwards. That resurrection ability of yours is very nice. We're all sick of seeing it. Please tell your zombies to drop that RPG. "Chimera. Your animals are terrifying. Please put that bear-dolphin-moose thing away; it's scaring the children. "Nighthound. You're naked again. It embarrasses me. Put some pants on. "I'm going to bed now. If you're all still alive in the morning, you're making me waffles." Edit: If Altermind asks nicely, Funtimes will make him weapons.

I love them both.

Edge said it was approaching her slowly, so I think she has time to jump out of the way.

Hmm…. I think I'll let Kobold take that reaction, since it's Sam Lucentia is attacking. Funtimes can plot revenge later.

Sweet. Glad to have you back. I found another song for Lightwards: The Happy Nihilist And one for Ray to Nighthound: It's Not Me It's You

I officially love Saccharine's first post. She is awesome. Just use the magic of Google. That's what I do.

*looks at website* Brussels, Belgium. I bet I could make something similar at home, though.