TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Portland would never be the same. (On the upside, there would be a lot of very happy children.) As for shipping, I'm more of a Mobiustimes shipper. Opposites attract and all that. XD

I'm a Yankee and I think toaster waffles are gross. Too much sugar and most of them have preservatives. Here's the recipe my family uses, modified from The Joy of Cooking: Whisk together in a large bowl: 2 cups whole wheat flour 1 tablespoon baking powder 2 tablespoons sugar 1/2 teaspoon salt Whisk together in another bowl: 3 large eggs, well beaten 8 tablespoons butter, melted 1 1/2 cups milk 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the wet ingredients. Gently whisk together; batter should have a pebbled look, like muffin batter. Spoon 1/2 cup (or the amount recommended by your waffle iron) onto the hot iron. Spread batter to within 1/4 inch of the edge with a spatula or wooden spoon. Close the lid and bake until the waffle is golden brown.

Ah, that's right. Sorry, long night at work. I'll edit mine.

This isn't going to become a Han Solo sort of thing, is it? It's a sad day when Lightwards is choosing Nighthound as his confidante.

You never teleport without her, and you remind me of myself in the early days. Nathan went cold. His fingers tightened around the paper where his secret was written in plain, messy handwriting for all to see. His head swam. He knew. It's just a guess, you can refute it— He knew. The page was snatched from his hand and dissolved in a cloud of purple. As Nathan tried to maintain his composure, Funtimes lifted the lighter she had brought with her, giggling. "You're smart." She tapped her fist lightly against Protector's forehead. "And nice. Like the other guy." With another giggle, she leaned in, point of the lighter against his chin, and said in a stage whisper: "Is he smart like you?" As little as he liked the sight of Funtimes holding what could become a tiny knife to someone's throat, Nathan was grateful to her for asking. Protector seemed reasonable, the sort of man who would keep knowledge like that to himself. Phoenix, on the other hand, was the other half of a split personality—the half that thought himself an Epic, and the half that had apparently had an unfortunate run-in with Penumbra. A run-in that had resulted in his secret being spilled. Even if Protector sided with them, there was no telling where Phoenix's loyalties were. Doctor Funtimes meant to find those loyalties, even if she had to resort to threats.

So if Funtimes transformed a living doll into a box of Popsicles, would the Popsicles continue to move?

That's fine, so long as he whispers it or in some other way guesses so it isn't overheard. I'm sure he'll be discovered eventually, but I'd rather it didn't happen right away. Also, Joe, are the Toymaker's toys actually alive or just animated (ie, do they have heartbeats and whatnot or are they just sophisticated bits of Epic magic)?

I support all of these.

He killed her for a crime against fashion? I guess Funtimes should be glad she's so powerful then.... Leaving it open for a timely rescue from the Unicyclist! Cute hurt/comfort stories, here I come!

I doubt Mr. Quickslide and Ms. Hotwire would call our dear Emperor's recruitment methods "friendly." Or "recruitment," for that matter. He's not really much of a people person, is he?

Yes. Yes, he is. So killing a sweet old man with raptors and bringing him back as an undead slave is the universal language for "I want to be your friend" now, is it?

Light Side of the Force? I like it. Also, Nighthound is hosting a fashion show? I'm scared.

Shhhhh. It involves a guy on a unicycle taking on Nighthound with flaming bagpipes.

Warning: Possible new OTP below the spoiler.

Nathan nodded slowly throughout Protector's explanation, though he was only able to give part of his attention. The rest was on the woman holding his hand. Her actions shouldn't have surprised him. She was an Epic, after all, and drenching an ally in gasoline and threatening to burn him alive was rather tame compared to turning a rival inside out or literally making a server's blood run cold. Perhaps she had grown bored with carpet bombings and pancake storms, or perhaps she had picked up on Lightwards' dismissive attitude toward her tricks. Any number of reasons for her threat would do, and nearly all of them made sense. Then again, Lightwards was an ally. A powerful ally. If she pushed too hard, he might decide she wasn't worth the trouble and... And what? Turning his shirt to gasoline had taken almost no effort at all, turning a ribbon to a lighter even less. Matter was her plaything. The world was her plaything. Strap her into a straitjacket and place her in an empty room, and she would simply turn the straitjacket into a gun and the walls and floor into a tank or a cannon or something even worse. Calamity, give her time and she might even create a dinosaur of her own…. "So I need to know, what happened after I fell? Who is this shadow Epic?" Nathan blinked at Protector a few times. He shared Phoenix's face, had the same wild beard, but there was no insanity in his eyes. He was calm. Rational. Human, by his own admission. "And why are you trusting us with this secret? Impersonating an Epic is a crime in most areas." Funtimes punched him playfully. "Because we're nice, duh." Nice. That was her word for threatening an ally with immolation? Then again, she had leapt to Phoenix's defense after learning he was only human. And given the purple explosion on impact, he had probably been helpless when the raptor attacked, unable to provide her with anything useful. Nothing about her decision made any sense at all….yet Nathan felt something nagging at him. Something sitting right in front of his nose. Something that would cast her actions in a new light and finally make them stand up to reason. "We don't know who this shadow is," Nathan said at last. If he couldn't discern Funtimes' motives, he should at least try to learn Protector's. "But he knew a great deal about Phoenix—you—both of you." ----------------------------------------- Messing with Epics was like messing with Sasquatch. It was dangerous, sure. Some might even call it stupid. No one in their right mind would pick on someone so much bigger and stronger for a few laughs. Remington Springfield was not in his right mind. Ask his parents, sisters, or most of the girls he'd dated. Or Sasquatch, for that matter. That glittery woman—Doctor Funtimes. She was a card. Making it rain pancakes on her new Empire before choosing the Unicyclist as her servant—most Epics wouldn't dream of that, but most Epics wouldn't use half the hair glitter she used, either. She lived in her own world, a world she brought to everyone she met. Remington glanced at Lightwards, the self-proclaimed Emperor of Light, still shivering in his gasoline-soaked coat. He chuckled and shook his head. He might call himself an Emperor, might declare himself ruler and make himself a little kingdom of the undead, but he couldn't control the Doctor. If he who controlled the Doctor controlled the Empire, then the Empire belonged to her. Her stunt with the lighter had proven as much. No, Lightwards was no Emperor. He held the title, but Doctor Funtimes held the power. The Traveler was her consort, Remington her humble servant. He smiled to himself. This was going to be fun.

Nighthound doesn't make it rain pancakes. Funtimes > Nighthound.

When frightened, Epics tended to do one of two things: act angrier in an attempt to make themselves seem more powerful, or adopt a subservient manner in an attempt to ward off attacks from the stronger Epic. After having his shirt turned to gasoline and being threatened with a lighter, Nathan expected Lightwards to take the first option. He chose the second. Nathan had seen Epics do that before. It wasn't unusual—when a minor Epic crossed a High Epic. When some Epic or other with a halfway useful power decided to pick a fight with one who had two or three extremely useful ones, he and the other servers had known to get out of the way. Watching a minor Epic put in their place was always good fun for their more fortunate fellows. But Lightwards was no minor Epic. He could raise the dead, turn a fossil into a living dinosaur and a table into a tree. If Doctor Funtimes tossed the lighter onto his coat, he would return none the worse for wear. Yet he still clutched his coat to his chest, eyes darting between the flame and her face, licking his lips nervously. Most Epics didn't do that unless stalling as they searched for the words to put things right and escape with their lives. "Perhaps I was a touch... hasty with my actions." He called off his raptor with a wave of his hand. "We're all friends here. Perhaps--as friends--we could have a reasonable chat. Explain ourselves. Where we come from. Our goals. Et cetera." He was scared out of his wits. He couldn't die, and he was terrified of her. Not that Nathan blamed him. Funtimes smiled again—wider this time, but her eyes were cold as she patted his cheek. "Good. I like being your friend." Purple Phoenix spoke, introducing himself as someone called the Protector—a remnant of Phoenix's past or some such—and explained why he had rigged the museum. After watching his self-proclaimed girlfriend douse a High Epic with gasoline and threaten him with a lighter, the idea of their museum being turned to a minefield seemed unimportant. There was only Funtimes, and that cold smile, so different from the one she had worn when she saved his life…. "Now if that answers your questions, Lightwards, I'd like a moment to discuss some things with these two in private." He motioned for him and Funtimes to follow. "Okie dokie loki," she said, putting on her usual smile as she pranced to Nathan's side. She took him by the tie, pulled him close and kissed him long and deep, then looked into his eyes, hands planted on his shoulders. Staking her territory. After a moment, she slipped her hand in his and started off toward Phoenix. Nathan managed to raise his eyebrows in bemusement at Lightwards as they passed, though he didn't even try to smile. His coat still smelled of gasoline.

Yay! And I figured it was them, but if Protector happens to be a Lightcycle Guy shipper....

Just for clarification, the couple he asked to Follow was Nathan and Funtimes, correct?

Hope your computer gets better soon, Kobold.

BUY A MAC. JOIN THE HERD.

Buy Apple?

All of time and space, everything that ever was and ever will be, and you choose THAT question?

She's not THAT kind of Doctor, Kobold And it sadly cannot turn shirts to gasoline. Even if I could, I'd opt for bacon.

Nathan had his attention on Lightwards from the moment he sent the raptor to attack Phoenix. So absorbed was he in wondering if he would be the next recipient of the necromancer's wrath, that he didn't see Funtimes place herself between them until Lightwards' shirt had already turned to some sort of liquid. It soaked his coat and skin and let off a strong chemical smell. "You hurt my friend," she said. Her arms were folded and she wore a smile, but it wasn't the one she paired with her usual vacant giggles. This one was deeper, smaller....and darker. "And you said you were my friend, but friends don't hurt friends." Gasoline. Nathan recognized the smell now. She had turned his shirt to gasoline. "Now," she said quietly, pulling a ribbon from her sweater, "I don't know anymore. If you're his friend, then you're mine, too, and I can turn your shirt into raspberry jelly and make you some toast. But if you're not..." The ribbon became a sparkling purple lighter, which flared to light with a flick of her thumb. "Are you my friend?"