Fatebreaker

Quick, listen to the Weird Al Version!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKtlK7sn0JQ The DA are a prestigious, if misunderstood and feared, part of the Scientific community and we will take your results seriously as long as we're not talking about chinchilla-gelatin. We never take those seriously. But if you want the masses to take your findings seriously, publish them under a fake name with a PhD, Get a celebrity to voice his support, and blame a political party for perpetuating the negative effects that stem from it. Working on the 2nd Sandman dream post, in which we encounter glimpses of the Subconscious Minds of a few more characters.

Ooh ooh! Recontextualized-Matter-misinterpreters, decontinuous-matter-reconstructors, the last sight of a dying soul, and lozenges. LOTS of lozenges. Preferably lemon or mint flavored, really anything but Gooseberry. We don't need a repeat of the Sorrowwraiths. Took me years to sort out that mess, and we're still trying to find the real moon. But our decoy is believable, so it's not too bad. Also, in regards to gemstones stay away from zirconiums. Trust me.

It happens sometimes, but you were unconscious at the time of the procedure, so at least you didn't feel any pain. We're currently running tests on the extracted tooth as we speak, to find out how we can make all teeth Sweet Teeth. Thank you for your sacrifice to Science.

Welcome formally to the Madness. have an upvote and a cookie.

Well my starchy friend, specificity can be important when it comes to what i do. When: just the other day. Why? Well my dear boy, that's what I do. I'm head of Research. I study things that no one else will. Sure I lose a limb here and there, and I may have to resurrect now and then, but at the end of the day Science is advanced. That's what we do here at the Alley, that's what the Alley is about. Science. Learning what others will not, understanding what others cannot. Sometimes it means using mildly upset people as experiments, sometimes it means playing board games with Hemalurgic creations that enjoy mindless slaughter and fondue. We are the mightiest of the guilds for that very reason. And the fact that we can steal any ability know to the cosmos. And our snacks.

No, this is simply a parallel list, derived from a tertiary dimension

Winter: Mistwraith would wake up in a small room with a screen on the wall. A short message would play of Quicksilver informing her that she would be taking part in a field test of her abilities, as well as her ability to follow orders and work with the other Slivers. She could then go into the next room where there would be battle gear and weapons, all made out of metal.

Well, I come by information through Research, which can be done in one of three ways: 1: Never listen to the number Two: Observation Thr33: I interrogate people 4: I steal the thoughts and dreams of the unsuspecting G: I beat deities in games of random chance (which are never random because they try and cheat) and they yield the information 5**7: Personal experience @: I ask people nicely Pi: One of my cousins tells me -17: Epiphanies This however was learned through observation, which quickly became personal experience when I lost my peg-leg to a koloss who got upset because he thought his team mate's drawing of a shuttlecock was unrealistic

So good. You should do Mistborn next!

Something of importance to note: Playing Pictionary with Koloss results in a 1 in 3 chance to lose any drapes or prosthetic limbs you may possess. Dominoes on the other hand goes over quite well, as long as the pips aren't colored.

Thanks. Though it occurs to me that my last two posts have been on the darker side. Sandman then Quicksilver... And to think my last post before this recent set was the Mad Ballooner Y'know Kobold, if Arsenal ever joined up with Quicksilver they'd be unstoppable. Of possibly sonic weapons

No one knows I agree, it is lacking in grumblyness. But there were two reasons I didn't add much grumbling. 1: I was kinda rushed when I wrote it at work, so I was hesitant to write dialogue for a character that wasn't mine. 2: Quicksilver was very close to killin' ol' Busboy, so I figured if you want to you can write the scen from Busdriver's perspective with mental grumbling.

It's alright, I finally got it up. Not as good as the original, but I hope it shall still be considered a quality post. Your move, Vondra

Quicksilver sat of his throne and considered the future. What it held for him and his men, for Vondra and his cardboard kingdom. It was then that Busdriver came in “Event said you wanted to see me, boss. What do you want to tell me off for this time?” Vondra did not turn to look at the pitiful excuse for an Epic. Of all the people to receive an evolutionary upgrade, Dave Ewles was probably the most baffling choice of all. Quicksilver considered ending him right then and there, but he was never one to waste a potential tool. Even pawns weren't meant to be wasted. But they were meant to be sacrificed. Quicksilver thought back to Shank, that paltry footpad who had made a use of himself only in dying. They had gained some mildly useful intel. It wouldn't have been worth it, if it wasn't for the look of fear on his face when he'd died. Quicksilver had watched the clip again and again, relishing the fear that had instantly carved it into Shank's face. It was delicious. "Boss?" Busdriver interrupted Quicksilver's train of thought once more, bringing him closer to death than he ever realized. Tendrils of silver metal had already twined themselves around his legs, but Quicksilver checked himself. Tools should be used, not eviscerated. Even though it was really tempting. "Elwes, if your tone does not instantly become respectful I will peel the irises from your eyes and extract your nerve endings through your fingers. Understood?" He could hear Busdriver as he froze in place not even breathing for a moment. "Of course sir, sorry sir, it won't happen again sir." Quicksilver smiled a mirthless smile "No, I expect it won't." A thin tendril of metal, no thicker than a hair rose from the floor, Suddenly it darted forward, burying itself in Busdriver's hand. The Epic cried out in pain, but he couldn't move his hand. Slowly, with painstaking detail, the tendril carved the word Respect in the back of his hand, leaving a thin trail of blood and wringing agonized cries from his lips. "That should help you to remember, Elwes." The only response Busdriver gave was a silent nod as he clenched his teeth against the pain. Quicksilver continued without bothering to turn around. "I have plans for you Elwes. There are things I want to test concerning your meager abilities. The recent attacks on the city reminded me that the Slivers haven't had a real battle in some time. Laxness is the antithesis of effectiveness, and I will tolerate nothing short of effective perfection from my men. As such, I've decided to send the Slivers on a training exercise. This will also be a test for you. I want to see how effectively you can use your abilities in combat. This is your chance to be something more that a pitiful bus driver, this is your chance to become a weapon, a tool in my hand for me to use with efficiency most terrible. Are you willing to become that tool, Dave Elwes?" The man's eyes were wide, the impact of what Quicksilver had said hitting him. He opened his mouth to reply, but Quicksilver cut him off "You will meet with Shatterblast, Fritz and Platoon at the outpost where the new Epic is staying. Tell the girl that this is a test. If she does well, she will be honored with an audience. If not, then with an execution. The squad is to pursue the invading panda army and butcher them. Be bold, destructive, merciless. You will no longer be in my city, so restraint will not be necessary. Consider it a, holiday. But if you get captured, we will not come to save you. Now go, and tell Reflection to send in the prisoners I had requested. Unless of course, you'd like to stay and watch as I craft a message for our friendly neighborhood dictator?" Busdriver's eyes went wide. He said something as he backed out of the room, but Quicksilver was no longer paying attention. He turned to the wall, contemplating recent events and future outcomes. A few moments later the metal doors slid silently open and four figures entered the room. One was Reflection, expressionless and silent. The others were prisoners. Quicksilver had chosen them specially, for the impact they'd cause. Vondra needed to be reminded that other epics wouldn't be allowed on designated Silver territory, and that even though the rest of the world saw the Dalles as a city without an Epic overlord, both he and Vondra knew better. Or maybe Quicksilver was just bored. He turned and surveyed the three miserable humans before him. They reeked of fear and despair as they gazed upon the hard lines of his face. He looked upon the first prisoner, a personel manager for Vondra. he sat and listened to Vondra's words, to his vile propaganda. For that he would be punished. "You three are to be a message to the Paper King, the man you call Vondra. Know that he cannot protect you, that you live under me, you serve me. Your town has fallen to wicked ways, to acts of rebellion and willfulness that displease me. As such, punishment is required. But you are fortunate. You have been blessed with the nomination to be my messengers. And you will carry this message: I hear, I see, I command. And I command thus." As he said this last word he raised his right hand to his eye level. "Hear no Evil." Twin streams of fluid metal snaked out and severed then manager's ears, then plugged the bleeding holes with metal ears, each one bearing the embossed symbol of a partially unsheathed sword in the center. The man cried out in surprise and pain, falling to the floor as he held his hands to where his ears had once been. Quicksilver's face was impassive as turned to the next in line. He faced the second one, a pitiful civilian. Arnold Demingsworth was a school teacher, a rarity these days. He taught blasphemy, that humanity was meant to be free. For that he would be silenced. "Speak no Evil." A tendril lashed out and ripped the man's tongue from his mouth, then replaced it with a tongue of silver, bearing the same seal. The man's muffled cries were cut off as he began choking on his own blood. Quicksilver turned to the last prisoner. A city guard of the Dalles. She stood there, tears of rage and helplessness running down her face. She quivered, holding herself in check through intense will power. Quicksilver admired that. He was above all else, a professional. He regretted that she had chosen the wrong side, she would have been a marvelous asset. He looked down on her, his gaze ensnaring her eyes. "You have failed Jennifer. You have let two helpless citizens of the Dalles perish before your very eyes. You have failed to keep them safe. You. Have. Failed." The girl's control broke and she flung herself at him with a primal cry. She threw a flurry of punches as hard and fast as she could, but they bounced Quicksilver with no affect. She cried and raged and hit, and hit, and hit til her knuckles bled. He watched her for a moment then casually reached out and wrapped his fingers around her neck, lifting her to his eye level. Then he spoke in a whisper. "And now I have broken you. Nothing can save you, nothing can save them, nothing can save any of you. Go, Jessica Paisley of the guard, and See No Evil." Water of silver flowed around his hand and onto her face, into her eyes. Without a sound, her optic nerves were cut and her eyes were removed from their sockets, replaced with eyes of pure platinum. They were more detailed than any glass eye could have been, perfect replicas of the originals, but with one smell change. instead of pupils, there was a symbol of the sword, resting slightly out of it's sheath. Quicksilver dropped her to the floor and turned to Reflection. "Take them to the center of town and leave them there. I want to make sure that Vondra personally receives this message." The prisoners were dragged out and Quicksilver returned to his contemplation. It had been and eventful few days.

Sorry, old habits die hard. If it make you feel any better I can guarantee that there weren't any people in at least, 39% of the buildings. Hopefully I can get that post up today, but it probably won't be quite as long.

*Writes an intense Quicksilver scene that is three pages long *Loses 90% of the post in a freak computer accident *curses the known deities and burns several buildings

Hey, that's really rather close to where I live...

Thanks for the positive feedback guys. I know I'm not around too often, so I try to make it count when I am. This post came to me today while I was at university. I had been toying with the idea of what it was Like in Sandman's mind, and suddenly had a flash of inspiration. so I sat down at an open library computer and banged it out in a little under two hours. Makes me wonder why I can't write like that all the time... Anyway, just wanted to say thanks. Next up is either the second part of this scene, or I'll remind people why Quicksilver is the most feared epic in the Dalles.

Working on the second part of the Sandman Dream, does anyone have of characters in MoNA they want me to include? I've already picked out a few, but I'm open to suggestions. PP should be, interesting...

Sandman post up, part 1. I realize I took some small liberties with characters, so if you want me to change anything, let me know. Hope you find it, engaging...

Maximilian Black walked through the jungle from another time. He marveled at trees that hadn't been seen in millions of years, at creatures who once had ruled the planet, but now served the apes who had inherited it from them. It was beautiful, so beautiful... He touched roots and branches, vines and ferns. But not flowers, never flowers. He turned a corner and almost ran into someone. It was one of the ladies from earlier, the one with short red hair and the toothpick. She was talking to herself angrily. "I hate him, I hate him, I HATE HIM!" Rage bubbled around her like molten metal. But there was more. Max blinked and the girl had changed. She was curled up on the floor, crying and whispering fearfully to herself. "Help me, please someone help me. I'm so scared, I have to escape, I'm so scared." She kept rubbing her arm as she cried, as if trying to remove something. Max looked closer and saw what looked like a tattoo of a wolf's head. But it wasn't a tattoo, it was an infection, a stain. and it was slowly growing larger and darker. around it were a series of cuts, straight and thin, as if made by a knife. The cuts leaked the pulsing blackness, horror in liquid form. Tears of horrible darkness. Max turned around. He didn't like crying. Crying was pain, crying was not fun... Crying was too Real. So he woke up. He was back in the Museum, alone in a different room. He turned and he ran down a nearby hallway, looking for something to distract him. He jumped over a tree root and rounded another corner. The was a large room and someone else was there. It was Lightwards, the Glorious Emperor. Max smiled, he thought Lightwards so so cool. He had raised Dinosaurs and commanded an empire and lived in a castle that defied the very sky with it's presence. He had to meet this hero. But as Max ran, Lightwards changed. The Noble figure suddenly split, becoming 3 different people. The first stood facing forward, looking off into nothing, his face straining to hold it's bold expression. "I am the Emperor! I am the Ruler of Life and Death! I am the Greatest Being to walk this Earth! I Deserve TO RULE!" Behind him stood another Lightwards, but he was different in every way. This man had no regal bearing, no radiating confidence. He was disheveled, his posture timid, his eyes terrified. He reeked Fear like a corpse reeks of Death. "I can't do it, they're all against me. No one fears me, no one respects me. I can't keep carrying this wait, it grows stronger with each Birth. No more birthdays, I don't want anymore birthdays. They're waiting to kill me, to give me too many birthdays. I can't take it, I can't take it, I'm..." "Losing it." The third Lightwards spoke. He was different still. His clothes were ragged, his hair wild, his grin maniacal. Tears of blood fell from his eyes as he smiled the smile of insanity itself. He was Madness. "You are falling ever so slowly, Lightwards the Great. I am the price you have to pay. I am the Endless Tunnel at the end of the road you tread. A tunnel of darkness with no end. Your greatness is a cloak, your bravado a mask. You've had too many birthdays for one person. Your grip is slipping. You will fail and everyone will be there to see it. You will die, and I will be the one who is reborn. It's only a matter of time, of time, of time..." Max pulled up short. How could this be? How could this man who radiated such power and authority also be filled with such fear and madness?He could create dinosaurs! He had conquered Death! If max had those powers everything would have been different, everything would have changed, and They would have... He froze. He had done it. He had thought of the Past. Of the Time before Dreams. He tried to run but couldn't move. He heard someone run up behind him. He tried to resist , but his body moved of it's own accord. There were children he knew each and every one of their names. They all stared at him. They walked silently towards him, never blinking, not even breathing. The one in the front was Michael. It was always Michael. As he got closer, his eyes started tearing up, but his expression didn't change from it's blank stare. he closed his eyes and when he opened them, they were bleeding. The same change happened in all the children, crimson stains running down their face, down their clothes. but they never stopped looking at him. Max wanted to wake up, but he was afraid it would just be another dream. Afraid that She would be there. Suddenly he froze. Oh no. Fires above no... He had done it, he had made the worst mistake possible... He had thought of Her He turned in slow-motion, the world fading to gray. Lightwards had disappeared, and in his place there was a woman kneeling on the floor. She was in full color. Her dark flowing hair, her smooth chocolate skin, her bright hazel eyes. She held her hands to her chest, and blood seeped between her fingers. Tears fell from her eyes, flawless prisms refracting the light, mixing with the blood that pooled on the floor around her. She looked at him and whispered "Maxi, you must run. Run, run, run..." Max turned and ran his eyes screaming but his voice dead. he ran and ran, but he did not move. She was still there, She was still crying. He tried teleporting away, but each time he only moved closer. Finally he was face to face with Her, standing in the pool of blood and tears, of Sorrow and Despair. She looked through his eyes and into his soul. "Maxi please, run." Max watched knew what came next, what always came next. Out of the blood grew a flower, white as death with a sharp black stalk. He watched his hands grasp the flower, even as it cut him, his blood flowing down it's stalk and mixing with Hers. He looked at Her, into Her eyes as She spread Her arms as if to take him in an embrace. And he watched as he drove the Flower into Her chest. His eyes never left Hers, but he saw it all, from every angle. "Run, my beautiful Maximilian, run for your Momma..." She slowly began to sink, the pool of blood and tears swallowing Her up. Maximilian Black watched his mother disappear, then screamed. Real. Too Real. Too Real... Too Real.....

Hmm, an unusual way of doing ordinary things... Thought The Stranger, far away in a strange box made of an idea that had been forgotten and a worry that had not, That has the makings of an excellent slogan... The Dark Alley, Never doing things the boring way. No, not it. The Dark Alley does things Unusually. No, that's not it either. Wait The Dark Alley: Ordinary things done in Extraordinary ways. Yes, that'll do quite nicely... He grinned, then laughed, then disappeared, taking his strange box with him.