Shattered

Thanks!

Blindside's first post for the Dalles is up. Finally. Storms, that took way longer than I was expecting!

"I'll kill you, scum!" Martin cried. Eric dashed through Washington scrub and greenery, chasing after the Epic with Martin and five other people. He had no idea who this particular Epic was. He just knew that the man had sauntered into Goldendale earlier that day, looking like he owned the place. Soon after, Martin had discovered his wife, Emily, lying motionless in the street with bullet holes where her eyes should have been. Martin had snapped instantly, unslinging his shotgun and charging off to find her murderer. Eric and some other concerned friends had chased after him. So here they were, sprinting blindly through the overgrowth, wildly pursuing the stranger after they caught his trail. It had led them into the local state park. He can't be that dangerous for an Epic, can he? Evan thought to himself. I mean, he uses a gun. That means he's pretty weak, right? He occasionally caught flashes of their quarry up ahead, maintaining his seemingly effortless lead. What was it about being granted magical powers from a giant red star that turned you into a long distance runner? Unless running was one of his powers. Their shadowy target paused briefly. Eric cursed as a loud crack resounded through the air and Jerold's head snapped backward, blood spraying over Eric, who had been running behind him. He almost stopped in the vain hope that he could save Jerold's life. He would have, if he didn't know for certain that Martin would get himself killed chasing after the Epic. So he continued, almost tripping over Jerold's body as he continued his frantic pursuit of his friend, before that monster killed him. He jumped over bushes and ducked under branches, making sure to keep the threat in sight. After an exhausting minute of full-speed pursuit, the trees broke into a clearing, revealing a structure in the middle of the clearing they had just entered. The local observatory. Eric didn't remember the last time that it had been used. The dome at the top was parted, leaving the telescope open and extended. Momentarily distracted from looking up at the building, he turned his attention back to the ground and stumbled to a halt. The man they were chasing, the Epic, faced Martin. The gun he had used to kill Emily and Jerold was nowhere to be seen. He didn't seem to be concerned that Martin had trained his shotgun on him, and seemed ready to pull the trigger at any moment. The Epic was relatively tall, with short black hair and extremely blue eyes. He seemed slightly overdressed for a chase, his jeans accompanied by a blazer. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow you off the face of the sparking planet right now," Martin snarled. The Epic's impassive expression broke into a smile, though he remained silent. "You killed my wife, psycho!" Martin shoved his shotgun closer to the stranger, who mockingly put his hands up, a smile still stretched across his face. "Got anything to say for yourself?" Once again, the man said nothing. "Can't even come up with a reason to beg for your miserable life? Yeah, that's what I thought," Martin sneered, his face contorted by grief and anger. "Is there a point to this interrogation?" The Epic suddenly asked, a slight British accent detectable in his voice. "Honestly, I would have thought that you would have 'blown me off the face of the sparking planet' by now." "Don't think I won't." "Oh, I have no doubt that you will try to kill me," the man said, still smiling, "but succeeding in that endeavour is going to prove a spot more difficult than you seem to think it will be. Do you know what Calamity gave to me? "What?" Martin gritted his teeth, irritated. "The power to be sparking annoying?" "Curiosity. And the strength and will to pursue it. Unlike you and your insignificant friends, I can do whatever it takes to find the truth." Somehow his smile grew even wider. "Wherever it may lie. It was for that reason that your wife-" The Epic didn't get to finish his sentence. Screaming in rage, Martin pulled the trigger. And blasted a hole in Anton's chest. His corpse slumped lifelessly to the ground. Eric's breath caught in his throat. Martin's cry cut off into a strangled gasp. Everyone took a step back. Except for the stranger, who stood exactly where Anton had been standing before he'd somehow been teleported directly into the line of fire. The man simply stood there, allowing everyone to look upon him in terror. Eric shifted his view, making eye contact with Martin. A silent agreement passed between them, and he waited as Martin managed to subtly communicate his desperate move to the others. The Epic either didn't notice or didn't care, simply standing silently, his eyes closed in exultation. Then, as one, they charged. Martin, Eric, Jameson, Kimberly, and Old Rick, hoping against hope that this Epic's power couldn't protect him from a combined assault. The man snapped back to attention, and before anyone could close the distance, in the blink of an eye he drew his gun from beneath his blazer and shot Martin, the round taking him in the shoulder and causing him to drop his shotgun. But soon everyone was too close for him to aim. Jameson arrived first, swinging a right hook directly at the man's face. Then, seemingly in an instant, the Epic was replaced by Old Rick, who had been charging in behind him. Surprise registered on his face. Jameson's blow knocked him backward into their enemy, who mercilessly kicked him back into Jameson, knocking both men to the ground. The man pistol-whipped Martin, who had recovered swiftly and been waiting for an opening to fire, then immediately turned and shot Kimberly point-blank. She collapsed soundlessly. Eric stopped cold. He couldn't think of anything to do. He could only watch in horror as his friends were slaughtered. The Epic moved with brutal efficiency, finishing off Old Rick with a stomp, snapping his neck. Jameson received a bullet to the knee, dropping him, and another to the heart. Then the man quickly turned and delivered a devastating punch to Martin's face, who had been charging up behind him again. He dropped instantly. The man paused, standing amid the bodies of Eric's friends. Then he looked directly at Eric himself. Frozen in terror, he watched the the nameless Epic's mouth curved into a smirk. Then he turned and ran toward the observatory. Cursing, wondering what in Calamity he thought he was going to accomplish, Eric charged after him. *** The Epic dashed into the observation room, the door slamming behind him. Eric stopped, gasping for air, and heard a loud clanging from behind. He turned back from the room to see Martin jogging toward him from the second floor staircase, shotgun in his hands and murder in his eyes. He gave Eric a passing glance and then looked past him into the room. He started forward. "Wait!" Martin stopped. Eric took a breath. "Did you see what that thing did to everyone out there?" "Yeah, I saw," Martin growled. "And I'm not going to let him get away with it." "We're not going to get away. Not if we go in there!" Martin stood for a moment, then approached the room, shoving Eric out of the way. "This has to be done." He yanked the door open and strode through. "Oh, sparks, sparks, sparks," Eric, whispered. After a tense second, he ducked into the observatory room. Martin stood at the entrance to the room, his shotgun trained on the Epic, who stood on the ledge of the open side of the room, the sky and surrounding forest visible. He had his pistol aimed directly at Martin. And he still had that insufferable smile on his face. That insufferable, confident, terrifying smile. "This is it," Martin said, his voice low. "Nowhere to run." He shifted backward, regrouping with Eric. Bad idea, Martin, he thought. It allowed the Epic an easy route of attack on either of them, with his strange ability to swap places with people. What was Martin thinking? His move was going to get them- He turned on Eric and pulled the trigger. *** Martin looked away from Eric's corpse, chambering a new shell. He regretted having to shoot his best friend, but this man had killed his wife. He had to get vengeance, and having Eric with him would only have helped Emily's murderer. He sighted on that man again, his hands firm, his resolve unbreakable. The Epic's smile had grown wider. He was still aiming right at Martin, though. "Nice move," he said appreciatively, gesturing toward Eric's body with the free hand. "I didn't think you had it in you." "I've let you stall for too long. You're going to tell me why you killed my wife, and then I'm going to kill you." "Isn't it obvious?" The Epic's lips curved upward slightly. Martin readied his gun. His finger tightened on the trigger. "Tell me!" The man's smile grew wider. He lowered his gun, barrel pointing at the floor in one hand. His next word, though spoken softly, echoed in the small room. "Curiosity." Then he jumped off the ledge. Martin stood in the room, stunned. Then suddenly he was tumbling downward, air racing past his face. He screamed. Darkness followed. Blindside strolled through the room, ducking under the large telescope to reach the ledge formed by the hatch in the domed cap structure. He peered over the edge, and was able to spot the crumpled form of a man on the pavement below. Blindside drew his SIG P210-2 - his pride and joy - and shot the body a few times for good measure. With an amused shake of his head, he went back inside. It had definitely been the right move to Swap that townsman directly into thin air. Blindside congratulated himself on his dramatic accomplishment as he entered the room and looked at the telescope. Well, at least this little trip wasn't a complete waste, he thought. *** Strolling out of the park observatory building, Blindside noted the corpse on the pavement that he had shot from above. Then he noticed the man standing above it. He was a rather unkempt fellow, clad in ragged pedestrian clothes. His blond hair stuck up erratically in red-tinged spikes, and Blindside noted with dissatisfaction that the stranger was slightly taller than him. His eyes blazed with a manic intensity. And... are those bloodstains on his arms? He had already noticed Blindside, his predatory grin directed right at him. Slightly unnerved, Blindside inched his hand toward his SIG, which was tucked inside his blazer. Swapping was not nearly as effective in one-on-one fights as it was against large groups, and he was certain that this stranger was an Epic. A voice from the man halted his motion. "Remember Frequency?" His voice put an end to the deafening silence. "He's got a job for you." Blindside processed this new information. Frequency, eh? How long has it been since we went all bolshie? Frequency's associate waited for an answer. The man had sent an Epic all the way to fetch him. It must be important. What job could Frequency need doing that would require Blindside's specific skill set? "Interesting," He mused aloud. "Very interesting..."

Thank you.

When I was reading WoR, right at the end, I accidentally glanced down the page and saw this. Completely ruined it. It broke my heart.

Blindside's debut post is turning into a nightmare to write.

I went on a search through YouTube to find the video. I was unsuccessful. I did, however, manage to find this:

mail-mi, I would just like to say that I am in love with the song in your signature.

I don't really understand the problem you guys have with Quota. I don't think I've hit my upvote limit ever. Although, that's probably just because I'm not on nearly as often as most of you.

Well, there's probably a lot to be done, or at least discussed. The Dalles was, after all, attacked by mutant pandas.

He's a vanilla I put in the Dalles a while ago. This is the one post I made about him:

So I made Evan a while ago, and so far nothing's happened with him. Is there something he can do or someone he can interact with?

Hello. This just a sort of semi-official announcement that I'm back. Sorry for being gone so long. If anybody cares.

The thing that depresses me when I read about all of these visual misconceptions is that I'm really not a visual reader. I'm not sure what other people picture in their heads when they read, but for me it's all very vague, if it happens at all. I usually just follow the story, not really getting a clear picture of anything.

That reminds me of this Tumblr post I saw a while ago. It talked about how usually authors give little hints here and there about the ending, to give it greater impact, whereas Brandon Sanderson, and I quote: "spreads hints everywhere like a drunk Santa, in the interludes and epigraphs, and every ending still blows you away."

I saw that tumblr post too... *narrows eyes*

I have the opposite problem. Every Epic I think up, I obsessively try and make sure that they're not boring or unoriginal. This tends to mean that I stay away from extremely effective powers like, say, elemental control, because they are just so common. And of course there are only a few ways to have Prime Invincibility, so I tend to not use those either.

I seriously have no idea where Brandon comes up with them. I can sit and brainstorm for hours, but never come up with anything other than blatant ripoffs of other magic systems.

Jesus can walk on water. Remington Springfield can swim through land.

Okay, so his attacks will be kind of like projectiles. Maybe a little slower than bullet-fast, and they are strong enough to blast people backward. Sounds good.

That actually is closer to my original idea of him, and fits better with his name. And the shockwave idea would explain the extra power of his attacks without the need of super strength. It could disperse quickly, which would mean that a person would be thrown backward, but not necessarily severely damaged to the point of bone-breaking.

IK?

Okay, I'm considering adding an Epic to Salem, if anyone's interested in a fight. Concussion Primary Power: Hit transmission. Essentially what this means is that he can punch/kick/headbutt/etc. from his location without touching them. It appears as if he's hitting air, but the blow is transmitted to its intended target. The target has to be in visual range for him to hit it. Passive Power(s): Mild super strength. He can easily hit hard enough to break bones. This is accompanied with compensating durability, so that he doesn't hurt himself with his own blows.

What else needs to happen in the Dalles before the next day?