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Band (Worm/Scion)

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Homebrew: Ready-Made Scions 1e as Gods
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    • Harishar, God of Justice, Law Enforcement Officers, Judges
    Pantheon: Netjer
    Callings: Leader, Judge, Guardian
    Purviews: Sun, Moon, Stars, Sky, Order, Epic Stamina, Epic Perception, Journeys

    Adonis Rhodos, God of Love, Loss, Fidelity, Wealth
    Pantheon: Theoi
    Callings: Lover, Guardian, Liminal
    Purviews: Beasts (Doves), Beauty, Sky, Passion (Love, Lust, Loss), Journeys, Prosperity, Epic Dexterity

    Donner, God of Lightning, Mechanics, Metalheads, and Travelers
    Pantheon: Aesir
    Callings: Warrior, Guardian, Creator
    Purviews: Epic Strength, Epic Stamina, Forge, Journeys, Sky, War

    Itzli Ocelotl/The Obsidian Jaguar, God of Extirpation, Doctors, Folk Healers, Medicine
    Pantheon: Teotl
    Mantles: El Niño Fidencio, San Pascualito, Don Pedro Jaramillo
    Callings: Healer, Sage, Liminal
    Purviews: Deception (Mystery), Fertility, Fortune (Prophecy), Health, Moon, Stars

    Kuromizuhime, Goddess of the Ocean Depths, Motorcyclists, Rebellious Youth, Self-Actualization
    Pantheon: Kami
    Callings: Creator, Trickster, Warrior
    Purviews: Epic Dexterity, Fertility, Forge, Journeys, Sky, Sun, War, Water
    Baroness De La Croix, Goddess of Death, Morticians, Revelry, Jazz Musicians
    Pantheon: Loa
    Callings: Liminal, Guardian, Judge
    Purviews: Darkness, Death, Health, Journeys, Earth, Artistry (Jazz)


    You had the fluff in the PHO post and now you have the mechanics. Congratulations!

    As gods who don't have writeups show, they too will get postings. Although their fluff will come with their crunch.

    Design Notes;

    I made these guys based on their base writeups in Scion: God from 1e. Many of the Purviews got streamlined or cut entirely and thus I had to put in the 2e versions of what they have. Here's the rundown of the 1e vs 2e changes

    • Psychopomp was divided into both Death and Journeys
    • Many Epic Stats were cut or redone as a Calling (such as Epic Intelligence becoming the Sage Calling or Epic Charisma becoming the Beauty purview)
    • The Magic purview no longer exists. It is gone. Supposedly they're gonna add in the Sorcerer calling in its own book but I have yet to hear anything about it

    You may notice that five of the six Gods here have the Journeys Purview. That is because in their God writeup, those five were essentially runners for the Gods. Now more specifically;
    • Harishar was border patrol during the second Titanomachy and road his Barque in the Overworld and his Indian Motorcycle on The World, he also had The Book of Going Forth By Day as a Relic and thus I felt it appropriate to give him Journeys as a purview.
    • Adonis Rhodos even admits that he played Hermes-lite
    • Donner's build evolved around his GTO "The Goat" and it's part of his main arsenal as a God
    • Kuromizuhime still makes super bikes and loves motorcycles why wouldn't she become the patron goddess of them?
    • Baroness De La Croix is a messenger for the Loa
    I mentioned earlier that many Epic Attributes got axed or redone, Epic Perception was one of the axed ones. I decided to use it in my campaigns along with Epic Charisma which is why these gods have those.

    The Mystery and Prophecy purviews do not exist in 2e vanilla. They are the examples for Purview Specialization in Mysteries of the World: The Scion Companion however and thus these gods get them as that.

    For those of you who read the writeups in Scion: God you may wonder why certain gods got Purviews that they didn't have. Allow me to explain;

    • Harishar never had Stars in 1e, but since Magic isn't a purview anymore I just replaced it with Stars
    • Adonis Rhodos had the Animal purview in 1e due to wielding the Deadealus Device (Icarus Wings), I decided to make his favored animal Doves to fit rather than it being nebulous, being the financial backer of the band and (some stuff we'll get into in story) Adonis Rhodos picked up economics and thus Prosperity
    • Donner was the easiest to put in. All I did was give him Forge since he was a gearhead
    • Obsidian Jaguar is described as having a Sanctum on the Moon and uses the stars in his Prophecy Purview. Hence Moon and Purview
    • Kuromizuhime is also a gearhead but with motorcycles, thus Forge. Everything else is Vanilla
    • Baroness De La Croix gets Artistry (Jazz) because low hanging fruit and because (in verse story things we will get to)
    And there you have it, if you ever wanted to be a scion of the 1e Ready-Made, here you go.
     
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    • Bend & Break 2.1
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    • Walt

    1/09/11

    I had returned from the impromptu "End of Winter Break" get together, that Rhodes had somehow dragged us all to, several hours ago. Despite the late hour, one that I didn't bother confirming by viewing the alarm clock to my right on the desk, I was wide awake and reading the various entries within The Encyclopedia Fabula regarding the fae in alphabetical order. I had hit the "C" section and was reading up on the greater intricacies of the Cait Sith. Evian had decided to sleep in my room tonight yet again and was lounging on my bed, stretching himself out and trying to get comfortable.

    "You know you have a primary source right here, kid." He said lazily from the bed "No need to crack open Book about it."

    Evian had been referring to The Encyclopedia Fabula as Book or Booker whenever I had begun reading it before letting the night take me. Granted the tome didn't seem to mind or comment on the damn cat's nickname at all however I felt no need to refer to it in such an informal manner. Regardless, Evian had been trying to goad me into conversation ever since I had returned home and I felt no need to indulge him. Normally it would be simply because I didn't want to hear the Bostonian Sidhe ramble like a loon for the umpteenth time but tonight I was simply trying to shake a sense of foreboding that had taken hold of me. Normally such a feeling would be alleviated by reading or by chores but with tomorrow being the first day of school and it being so late there would be no time for work even if there were any, leaving only recreational reading. Sadly flipping through the bountiful pages of The Encyclopedia Fabula did nothing to quash that dreadful feeling growing within my chest.

    The book must have either sensed my distress through my rather rapid pace of reading or it had some unknown and arcane means of sight and read my face, as it had become blank save for the phrase

    "Are you OK Walt?"

    I closed the book and moved to my bed, ignoring the concern coming from that strange enchanted book and making sure to brush Evian to the floor. Evian took my place at the desk, opening the Encyclopedia and reiterating the question. Again, I ignored him and merely turned to face the wall my bed was placed against. Despite my clear and present disinterest in conversation, Evian leapt back on to the bed and crawled over to look me in the eye as he lay next to me.

    "Something crazy happen at the party, kiddo?" He waggled whatever passed for eyebrows on his face "You see a gal and give her the old 'Save a horse, ride a cowboy', eh?"

    I glared Evian down

    "I take it you're going to keep talking till I answer the damn question, cat?"

    The infuriating feline laughed and nodded yes

    "What's eatin' you cowboy?" he asked me

    I let out a deep sigh and reached over to bring The Encyclopedia Fabula into our conversation, as I opened the book and relished the fresh scent of grass and clover its pages filled with question marks begging for me to answer.

    I thought long and hard how to explain my feelings to the cat and book. The party itself was actually quite enjoyable, Lily had been true to her word and brought a plethora of her Earth-Aleph films and television serials over and we watched quite a few. Rhodes had brought the refreshments and came in surprisingly informal and casual attire, surprising us all with old generic store-brand jeans and a blank white tee made of cotton. As I was technically hosting and Taylor hadn't been confident enough in her flute abilities neither of us really contributed to anything beyond helping set up the projector and playing A/V club. All in all it was the most fun I had in years, it was the first time in a long time that I actually did not find the presence of people my own age grating or annoying in the slightest, and it didn't involve a harebrained scheme from Winnie spoiling it.

    "It wasn't the party." I told them. "Just a bad feeling."

    This strange dread that had taken hold of me began when we had all left the party, Lily was picked up by her parents, Rhodes rode home on his fixie, Taylor and I rode home with Finn and Saoirse. I'm not sure if anyone else saw it, but I was reasonably sure I saw that one stalker of Rhodes skulking about as we left. It was out of the corner of my eye and I only saw a silhouette resembling that rather unpleasant girl, but the feelings of dread had began then. There were four schools that enrolled adolescents within the Brockton Bay metropolitan area, each of those schools was more or less full or overflowing, so if I were correct in my ballpark estimate of about three thousand students per school then the odds of that girl being in Winslow were about one in four, the odds of us being in the same class together or even in the same grade were much larger numbers that, admittedly, I don't think I could calculate even if I had the patience for them. The girl in question feels extremely off for lack of a better description, like something was not natural about her. I had consulted The Encyclopedia Fabula earlier, but none of its results matched any description I gave. In fact I'm reasonably sure that if I explained what I was looking for and why in detail to the book it would just tell me that I'm describing a teenage girl obsessed with a boy.

    Evian broke my introspection and train of thought with a "Wanna talk about it big guy?"

    I glared at him again and told him "Drop it, cat. It's probably nothing."

    "Alright." he conceded "I'm stuck with you kiddo, whether you like it or not and if you need someone to talk to then who better than a talking cat that don't get out much?"

    As much as it pained me to admit, the cat had a point. I'd never tell him though. I gave The Encyclopedia Fabula a pat that I hoped came off as comforting. Hard to tell when I have little experience with consoling anybody and the person I'm comforting is a book with no facial cues. After setting it down on the desk and brushing Evian aside and dozed off.

    No dream of what was to come

    No nightmare to torment me

    Just dark and silence.

    A perfect night of sleep to be honest. I woke to the sound of my alarm at exactly five AM, brushed Evian off my chest and on to the floor, and continued the routine I had settled in to the past month. Strangely, last night's sense of dread did not return with my awakening and that only raised more questions,

    First was to get my clothes for the day ready, in this case jeans, a white t-shirt, a plain button up shirt over it, winter socks, despite them deliberately marking me as out of place I chose to go with my favorite boots sans the spurs, and then a denim jacket with wool liner. I wasn't risking my only hat going to such a foul school and with how I'd have to remove it in class and leave it in my locker I didn't see the point in bringing it. If I recalled correctly, the school would provide a shirt for gym and I'd be required to wear athletic shoes and something other than jeans, a tracksuit and my new sneakers would do.

    Next was personal grooming; morning shower, brushing my teeth, a clean shave. Nothing special, nothing luxurious. Grandfather had taught me how to shave in the contemporary way and his preferred way of doing it with a straight razor, sadly I did not bring my shaving kit and had to settle for a disposable set until I could find a suitable replacement, no shaving cream, no after shave. I could handle a razor unlike most folk my age and was skilled enough to avoid cutting myself or leaving stubble in any way.

    Lastly, and my personal favorite step, breakfast. I had begun rising at the same hour as my grandparents and completing my morning routine swifter than either of them as to be able to make breakfast for the family. Nothing fancy just the standard American staple breakfast; bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, toast, small bowls of cereal, orange juice for Saoirse, coffee for myself and Finn.

    By the time Finn and Saoirse had completed their own morning rituals breakfast was hot and ready on the table, today it was all set and done at six-o-five. It was still strange to me seeing my grandparents in their true youthful appearance, especially with their rather dated sense of fashion. I had no room to speak on such a matter, dressing the way I do, but I still found it odd. Seeing them come down the stairs ready for the day dressed like they had walked out of the television mid running of one of Grandfather's programs. Surreal did not begin to describe it.

    Normally this would be the moment when Evian would come down and join us, but he did mention he wanted to sleep in today. A welcome reprieve from his morning zoo routine.

    Finn and Saoirse seemed to appreciate my cooking and stopped fretting and trying to get me to not rise early and do morning chores. Morning pleasantries were exchanged, they complemented my cooking, we finished eating around six forty-five and I loaded the dishes into the washer. Normally I would clean them by hand but Saoirse said that if I neglected to use the dish washer that she had painstakingly researched and purchased after haggling it down to half off that I would know what it was to feel the fury of being dragged around the bay by an irate seal. Finn of course told me that I had better do what she said as she was not joking. Let it be known that beneath the sweetness and kindness of my grandmother that she was in fact quite frightening and fierce when she felt the need to be.

    Rather than taking the school bus, my grandparents insisted that I be taken by car and that they would not lose business by opening up an hour later to drop off their grandson and neighbor. Mr. Hebert had been mighty appreciative when Finn and Saoirse offered to take Taylor to school along with me. He was doing better, stayed true to his forsaking of alcohol, had apparently been working far better than before and even managed to be home on time for once. He had mentioned that the longshoremen of Brockton Bay had recently gotten a large contract of work from some company by the name of Colossus Holdings Incorporated. They were moving their headquarters from New York to Brockton and would be purchasing the vast majority of the boat graveyard, the salvage rights to all the derelicts, and were working on a deal with the city regarding removing the tanker blocking the entrance to the bay. Mr. Hebert was rather excited and said that he'd be meeting with the company's vice president to finalize the deal. Granted, he also was very clearly nervous.

    With all the morning routine and reminiscing aside, seven AM had arrived and thus began our journey to the supposed wretched hive of Winslow High School. Of course once Saoirse was reminded of where both Taylor and myself were going to school she would not stop being a mother-hen, even as we walked next door to pick Taylor up.

    "I still do not understand why we couldn't have sent Walter to Immaculata." Saoirse had said as we waited on the Hebert's front porch.

    "Saoirse you said that it was too expensive and that being taught by those crotchety old nuns and priests would have done more harm than being in a rough school like Winslow." Finn retorted with a chuckle

    Comments like that were the norm of the conversation and I felt no need to interject or add anything. Taylor and Mr. Hebert had met us at the door within five minutes of our knocking, Taylor was wearing one of her dark outfits and Mr. Hebert was dressed in an old suit with his tie a tad bit too tight.

    "Morning McCullough family!" Forced enthusiasm bled through a rather plastic nervous smile "Beautiful morning isn't it?"

    Finn and Saoirse gave a quick and polite "Good morning" in response and continued their circular dialogue on the subject of one Winslow High.

    "They appear to share your nerves sir." I said politely before addressing Taylor with a wave

    "What?" Mr. Hebert's voice went up about an octave as he said that "Nerves? No, no nerves…"

    Taylor gave her father a pat on the back

    "Dad, you're gonna be fine. They said it was just a formality right?" she loosened his tie a bit and smoothed out the wrinkles on his shoulders "Just relax. You did great!"

    Mr. Hebert did not in fact relax in the slightest. If anything he tensed up even more. Regardless he gave Taylor a hug, me a pat on the shoulder, and a handshake of gratitude to Finn and Saoirse as he walked over to his truck and began his journey to what would no doubt be a very stressful meeting for him.

    Godspeed Mr. Hebert.

    With that we went to our own car and began driving over to the infamous school and as we got closer and closer to the school, Saoirse grew more nervous

    "Finn, please that school is dreadful and filled with street toughs!" Saoirse was practically pleading for Finn to concede and let her pull me from school at this point.

    "Saoirse. Walter is not some kid from Mayberry and I think he could handle a few idiot thugs."
    I warmly chuckled at how correct he was in his assumptions, Taylor's brows furrowed in confusion

    "Mayberry?" She asked

    "Where Andy Griffith took place." I replied with a grin

    "What's Andy Griffith?"

    "Old show."

    Taylor shook her head at my laconic answers and fished for a topic other than Saoirse fretting or Finn trying to reassure her.

    "So." she began with a somewhat reserved smile "That party was nice."

    I leaned back into the seat and tried to get comfortable, letting out a grunt of agreement

    "I still can't believe that Donnie actually committed to that bit he pulled."

    We were three episodes into one of Lily's rider shows, this one was about aliens that could mimic humans and become extremely fast and the mysterious organization that fought them with an advanced insect themed technology. Lily had copied the wrong versions of the videos to the disc she had brought and they didn't have the English subtitles. Rather than switching to a new series or a movie, Rhodes had proceeded to do his own "dub" of it as we watched along.

    "It was indeed surprising. If he ever became an actor I imagine he'd do rather well for himself." I replied "I'm more surprised that Lily played along and joined in."

    "What was that one line that she said?" Taylor struck a pose similar to the one of the protagonist from the show "I think it went like 'There are two things a man must never do; one is to not make girls cry, the other is to mishandle food! Clock-Up!' waa-cha!"

    Taylor's enthusiasm was rather refreshing, and seeing her smile so widely sparked my own smile, even if it was nowhere near as warm as hers.

    "Any parahumans like those Masked Riders?" I asked as she shadow boxed

    "I think Velocity can maybe hit the same speed as clocking up." There was a fire in her eyes when she said it, it seemed the gears in her head were turning. "But I don't think he can act the same way."

    "Oh?"

    "Yeah, I mean it'd be pretty awesome if he could." Her smile weakened and her eyes grew concerned "Just hit super speed and clean up the bay in half an hour. Dunno how you'd be able to stop that though, kinda refreshing that he can't."

    "Why's that?" Curiosity getting the better of me.

    "Well, if he ever went villain not much would be able to stop him." Taylor's eyes widened in shock and she began stammering out a self correction "I mean, he wouldn't because he's a hero, obviously. Just, if he ever got Mastered or something with the Simurgh happened that they didn't catch or…"

    "General 'Who Watches the Watchmen' things?"

    "Yeah…"

    Reminded me of a story that Evian told me, one that didn't have me telling him to shut up for once.

    "You know the ancient god-kings of Ireland, the Tuatha Dé Danaan, had a solution to this?"

    "Oh?"

    "Yes. To provide a counter to anyone with power in their lands, including themselves, those with power would be put under a geas. It was gift, curse, oath or vow, and a taboo all in one. A rule that they either had to follow or were magically compelled to follow or all of their power would leave them and they would be forever dishonored. For instance the warrior Cú Chulainn had two; he couldn't refuse a meal offered to him and he was to never eat the meat of a dog. Guess how his enemies weakened him?"

    Taylor chuckled and gave me a pointed look

    "They tricked him into eating dog meat. The solution to 'if a Hero turns bad' is magic." She shook her head and smirked "Great solution Walt, I'll be sure to get Gandalf on the phone to help in the event of rogue Heroes."

    I held up my hands and let out my own amused chuckle "Hey, whatever works right?"

    "Heads up, we're here kids." Finn broke up Taylor and I's conversation and pointed out the school to us as he pulled up to the drop off curb.

    I looked out the window to see my new school, as far as first impressions go this school made a poor one. Three floors of a poor man's imitation of brutalism, evoking feelings of pathetic surrender rather than oppressive monument surrounded by accelerated urban decay. First bell rings at eight in the morning, we got here at seven twenty-five and aside from what I would assume to be the vehicles of faculty and staff the whole place was empty. It was very clear that nobody wanted to be here longer than they had to.

    As Taylor and I got out of the car Saoirse got out to give us both a hug and Finn handed me a notecard.

    "Principle's instructions for you when you arrive." he told me "Also hold still a moment you two, Saoirse has something she wants to get a picture of you two."

    Oh god no.

    Before either Taylor and I could get word in the contrary, Saoirse had pulled out an old Polaroid camera and had us pose for the shot. Taylor was a good sport about it and fake waved to the camera, I made my displeasure clear with a grimace. Saoirse gave me one last hug before giving me some parting words

    "Be careful, Walter." She said

    "Always am." I replied honestly

    "Don't get hurt."

    "I'll try to avoid it." Again with utter honesty.

    "Don't hurt anybody too badly if they get rough."

    "Well…" I started, not able to bring myself to lie. "…if you insist."

    And with that Finn and Saoirse said goodbye to us and drove off to work.

    I read the notecard's instructions aloud

    • Head to the main office
    • Speak with the secretary
    • Take your locker number and lock as well as your class itinerary
    • Itinerary is final and cannot be changed.

    I turned over to Taylor and asked "Know where the main office is?"

    Taylor let out a rather un-enthused sigh "Unfortunately. Follow me."

    The inside of the school did not change the impression gathered from the exterior. The floor was in a state of neglect with missing tiles, stains from god knows what, ancient lockers in various states of disrepair or vandalism, fluorescent bulbs flickering and on the cusp of going out. I'm reasonably sure I saw one of the teachers drinking from a hip flask as we passed by. When we reached the door to the administration office we had to be buzzed in from a heavy security door that was on its last legs and clearly didn't actually lock properly. The secretary was a rather miserable and angry looking woman in her forties, clothes long out of style, hair barely in a professional bun, and a mountain of disheveled paperwork strewn about the corner of her desk while the office phone kept ringing.

    "More accusations? It's not even first period." The secretary snapped between bites of a danish and with a harsh glare to Taylor "Whatever it is can wait till after school Ms. Hebert."

    "Actually ma'am." I said making sure to match the secretary's venom. "Taylor was helping me find my way here, I'm a new student."

    The secretary looked me up and down and gave me some more side eye, I glared in return.

    "One moment please." she said, picking up and then immediately hanging up the office phone. "Not even when the rest of you fucking animals show up and I already have phone calls…"

    The secretary typed away at her outdated keyboard, printed out something, and pulled out a combination padlock from an old file drawer.

    "Your locker number is zero-zero-three, this is your lock, if it is lost or stolen you will be asked to pay for the replacement." The receptionist droned on "Here is your class schedule, first period is at eight AM sharp. You will get your school books as you go to class and meet your teachers."

    The receptionist resumed whatever she was doing, although I doubt it was actually work. I looked over to Taylor, she was getting rather grim and irate.

    "Any idea where locker #003 is?" I asked

    "Yeah, it's actually not that-"

    Taylor was cut off with a rather obnoxious and loud clearing of the throat from the secretary. I looked over to her and found her attempting to glare daggers towards us.

    "If you don't mind, there are adults in the middle of some rather important work and they shouldn't be disturbed."

    I scoffed "Really? Then you'd better leave quickly, you're rather disturbing with that poor makeup job."

    It wasn't the strongest come back, nor was it classy by any means but I didn't regret saying it. The secretary became rather incensed and she responded with ill concealed hatred.

    "Alright, fuck off kid. Before I have you dragged out of here."

    With that we left the office to continue our conversation.

    "I take it the principle is no better?" I asked Taylor while looking over my schedule.

    "Nope, it's bitches all the way down in that office." she sighed out in frustration. "Where was I?"

    "You were telling me about where my locker was."

    "Right." She walked ahead and waved me over to follow her "It's actually not that far."

    Eyeing the clock as we walked, I only caught sight of one that worked and it said seven forty-five. Locker #003 was in the middle of the crossroads of the first floor hugging the left hand wall. It was also one of the few lockers with no visible signs of vandalism to my surprise. A few students were making their way in, none of them were in any way remarkable and all seemed to blend in together.

    "Where's your locker if you don't mind me asking?"

    "Around the corner there. #108." Taylor pointed down the hall towards the rear of the school "Who do you have for first period?"

    I tried to open the locker, finding the latch mechanism was sticking and not quite opening. I'd have to bring some WD-40 if this problem persists.

    "Gladly. What the hell kind of name is Gladly?" I stated with a roll of my eyes "Know what he's like by chance?"

    As I spent about three minutes trying to get my locker open, Taylor painted a picture of a young and new teacher that was trying to relive the glory days he had in high school and college by being the "cool" teacher and was utterly devoid of any talent as an eduator. Or at the very least that was the conclusion I came to.

    "Great." I said with a swift yank of the door finally breaking whatever seal was inside the latch and breaking off what appeared to be dried adhesive in the locker's doorframe.

    When the door swung open, the stench of dust and rot came free, the vents of the locker were sealed shut with duct tape and cling wrap over a few sheets of paper in layers. I tore the seal off the vents and looked to the floor of the locker finding a dessicated and long dead rat. A few of the students that were passing by chuckled and the few that I could see out of my peripherals were pointing and whispering to their friends. I grabbed the dead rat in the remnants of the seal and looked over to Taylor.

    "Well, Winslow seems to know how to make new students feel welcome."

    "Only gets worse from here, cowboy." she said with a pained smile "I'm gonna head over to my locker. Catch you passing period?"

    I nodded my head towards the trash in hand "Yeah, I'm gonna dump this in the trash and wash my hands. Catch you later."

    Taylor waved goodbye and made way to her locker, I locked the impromptu rat morgue that was my own and made my way to a men's room that I had passed. Along my way I spotted Rhodes' stalker passing by with some red haired girl. Both of which looked rather smug but the stalker girl was directing the smug smile to me specifically, I merely looked on ahead and brushed her off. I found my way to that men's room and discarded the seal and corpse within the lone trash bin. Although the bathroom was covered in graffiti and the windows were scratched all to hell, I could at least say the soap dispensers at least had soap and the water actually warmed at a decent speed. They may be thugs and scoundrels but they at least knew basic cleanliness.

    As I washed my hands the stall immediately to my rear opened up, although the occupant made no noise indicating he was moving. I looked up from my lather to look into the scratched mirror, finding a rather irate boy of the Asian persuasion, looked familiar too. I looked back down and rinsed off my soapy hands, the boy left in a hurry, and then I got to drying my hands. Despite not quite feeling the need to, I figured that I should relieve myself while I was here.

    In other words I pissed and then rewashed my hands. I had the time and coffee makes you piss.

    By the time I had finished drying my hands a second time, the door to the bathroom opened and the sounds of many footsteps filled the cramped space. I looked over to see the irate boy from earlier with a group of other Asian boys in red and green.

    I tossed the paper towels I used into the trash bin and faced the group.

    "Can I help you gentlemen?" I said casually

    A few of the gangers stood aside and in walked a familiar face, granted this face was heavily swollen and covered in bandages. The Fat One from the other night, one of the three that had tried to assault that Madison girl the hand I had slammed the dumpster lid on was in a cast and he was cradling his massive gut.

    "This him Big Lo?" the boy from earlier asked

    So lard ass had a cute little nickname. Good for him. The fat bastard nodded and then the boy stepped forward.

    "You sent Big Lo, Shin, and my brother Cheng to the ER two nights ago, guai lo!"

    I looked him dead into his burning eyes

    "Yes, and?"

    The boy's anger grew and he had his right hand in his coat pocket, grasping something tightly.

    "Shin's not here because he needed fuckin' skin grafts." He spat with rage "My brother, he may never leave the hospital. You put him in a fuckin' coma!"

    "And?" My eyes never left his

    The boy pulled out a knife in a lacquered scabbard decorated with flowering branches. Old and eastern in design, either Korean or Japanese. The boy pulled out the blade and dropped the scabbard, the sound of the wood echoing in the bathroom. A few of his "friends" tensed up in fear, a few even looked surprised. Lard Ass, Big Lo gulped.

    "You best make your next three steps count boy." was my reply, a cold rage bringing the words unbidden from my mind. "Otherwise you may just join your idiot brother."

    The boy took exception to my words and charged in with that knife of his like a reckless idiot, even someone with only a few lessons in Grandfather's own personal "Art of Asskicking" and it all was the kind of things he would use when he was County Sheriff including dealing with people with knives who didn't know how to use em. He lunged forward with the knife, overextending and leaving enough room for me to sidestep even in a cramped a space as this. I shoved the off balance idiot into the wall and went to kick him.

    One of those ABB boys kicked my knee from behind, knocking me off balance and on to the floor. Before I could recover, the boy with the knife scrambled on top of me and started bashing my face in. I blocked a few of his hammer blows, boy had anger but had no power behind his strikes and I could barely feel them.

    I spotted an opening from his flailing and took it, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing as tight as I could. The attempted beating stopped and a few of his friends gasped in shock, as I squeezed what precious little oxygen from his throat out my other hand was freed and I started doubling with my grip.

    One of this wretch's friends came up and kicked me in the nuts, the sharp pain coming so swiftly that I let go of that neck. The boy recovered faster than he had any right to and plunged that old knife into my chest. I felt the warm redness flee from the wound as the blade left me, and before I could make my counter the boy plunged the knife into me again and again.

    With every stab I felt my life's breath cut short, the precious water of life within me staining both the steel of the blade and the worn tiles beneath me. As the boy screamed and wailed, his friends tried to pry him off of me but the boy stabbed with further ferocity, his eyes were locked with mine. As he saw my vision fade, the fires of hate only grew hotter within the boy. My strength left me, not even enough to keep my eyes open. I heard a panicked cacophony of voices and soon felt myself dragged into and propped up in one of the stalls. Soon the cacophony ended and was met only with silence and I felt myself once again fading.

    This was no dream, and I would not wake with my wounds gone. I was dying. Soon I heard a familiar a Boston accented and frantic voice tell me

    "Hang in there kid! Help's here!"

    Then I felt nothing. No pain, no coldness, nothing.

    I opened my eyes, my strength seemingly returned to me.

    A familiar sight greeted me; an old and grand hall with a large bowl of blue fire in the center of the room. What seemed like countless battle standards, banners, and shields of many cultures and armies bedecking the walls and rafters. Several long oaken tables with faded silhouettes of soldiers and warriors from as many different cultures as the ornaments upon the wall sitting at them and all looking at me. Towards the rear of the hall on a raised platform were two thrones. Upon one of the thrones was a man wearing an old duster, his boots black as night, a bare skull mask that devoured any and all light trying to enter its sockets, and on his brow a crown of shattered bones bound by thorns. On the opposite throne was a woman in a long and flowing dark green dress more appropriate of spring or summer, her face obscured by a veil of mourning or wedding, her hair long, wavy, and a vibrant red.

    They rose from their thrones, the silhouettes of the crowd bowed their heads, and soon the couple came down the platforms steps arm in arm towards me and I dared not move. As they walked, the woman's bare feet sprouted lush spring flowers and grass with her every step and the man's footsteps frosted them over as they walked.

    As they approached, the man took his free hand and began removing his mask, the woman using her free hand to lift her veil. The man's face was almost exactly like my own, barring the shape of his nose and the color of his eyes. The woman's eyes were the same shade of blue as my own, and her eyes danced with joy and mischief

    The man was Eric Connolly, the woman was Doreen McCullough, my parents.

    As they walked closer, I saw their faces split open into warm and caring smiles.

    I dared not move, thinking that any movement would reveal this all to be an illusion.

    "Mother? Father?" I asked, no other words coming forth

    Their smiles grew wider and then they embraced me, which I returned with equal warmth and affection. I imagine if I could cry, tears would be flowing freely.

    I pulled out of the embrace and asked them "Are you here to take me?"

    My father laughed heartily and patted my back.

    "Don't worry son." He said with a dark voice filled with purpose and authority "We ain't taking you to the hereafter just yet, not your time."

    "Then…" I said, my words not quite able to flow as well as usual "…where are we?"

    "You're in one of your father's Sanctums. Or at the very least, your soul has been stopped here." My mother said with voice smooth as silk and spiced with mischief. "Your body is still in Winslow, you'd be bleeding to death had Evian neglected his duties."

    "The cat? He followed me to school?" I asked

    Mother embraced me again and said "I ordered him to, my son."

    Father placed a hand on my shoulder and said "While Evian's working some magic on his end, your mother is working some off your soul on our end."

    Mother licked her fingers and smoothed out my admittedly tussled hair as she said "We brought your soul here to grant you your Birthright, or at the very least some of it."

    "What are you saying?" I asked "How is any of this possible?"

    Father and Mother exchanged a look, Father speaking first.

    "We're gods son and you are our Scion, a demigod in the making."

    No words left my mouth, no matter how many times it opened. Confusion furrowed my brows, a torrent of questions crowding my thoughts.

    "I am Erikaer Helson, God of Death, Patron of the American West, gunslingers, and cowboys."

    I looked over to my mother

    "I am Dawn, Goddess of Dreams, Patron of North American Witches." Her smile grew wider and her eyes shone, her hands smoothing out the wrinkles of my ruined jacket

    "I have so many questions…" I said, my voice still filled with shock and almost disbelief.

    "Sadly we don't have much time, son." Father said "Right now all we can do is awaken the Ichor in your blood."

    Mother stopped adjusting my clothes and gestured for me to look at her

    "We will return to you in the future, along with the rest of your Birthright." she said, once again embracing me "Right now you must return, you swore an oath to someone and they are in dire peril."

    Behind me, in the distance I heard a quiet voice begging for help, along with the voice of Evian

    "Come on kid wake up!" I could hear faintly

    Soon the heavy doors of the hall swung open and a breeze began pulling at me trying to pry me away from my parents.

    "Go forth, my son." I could hear my mother's voice clear over the rapidly howling winds "We will meet again."

    Soon the howling wind violently threw me from my feet and I felt myself fall back to earth with a violent jerk.

    When I opened my eyes, Evian was on my chest his feline mouth puckered up in a kiss. Despite the aching sensation all over me I shoved him to the tile floor and stumbled my way out of the stall ignoring the cat's cries of surprise and relief.

    Checking myself in the mirror, the front of my jacket was caked with drying blood and my once pristine white shirt was now stained red, my pants and boots were somehow spared. I lifted up my ruined shirt and saw that boy's handiwork. While the stab wounds were no longer bleeding, they had not fully healed although somehow I could tell that they were closing much faster than what was normal. Even for someone who normally healed fast like me.

    Then, my senses were bombarded by cruel cacophony. I could hear the plumbing shift and flow, chalk on chalkboards, markers on whiteboard, pens and pencil scraping at paper, everyone speaking at once their saliva slithering about and their teeth colliding with each other as they chewed and spoke. Most distressing of all was a girl calling for help in a cramped and tight space, her voice muffled by a foul viscera and countless crawling and buzzing insects.

    The cacophony was greater and more painful then even the many stabs to the chest, or even being shot through the heart. I tried to block out the sound with my hands, but to no avail. I punched the mirror in front of me, I stumbled against the wall. I slammed my head into the tiled wall, feeling it crack and feeling no pain as I did so.

    "Calm down kid!" I could hear Evian say, his voice clear over the cacophony. "Focus on my voice. Just focus on what I'm saying."

    Evian's voice guided me, the focus helping drown out the cacophony. Soon my sense were back to normal although I could still hear that girl in the viscera. I stopped focusing on Evian and began focusing on the girl. I don't know how, but I felt as if I knew exactly where I could find her.

    Ignoring Evian once more, I staggered to my feet and rushed out of the bathroom stall. As I opened the door, the sun was directly shining in to the windows of the school and the clock on the wall in front of me, was ticking away with its hands showing 2:30 PM.

    "Almost seven hours…" I said aloud

    "Yeah kid, I've been trying to keep you alive while you were off with your ma and pa. I panicked and put a glamour over the bathroom!"

    The girl's voice was fading, I could hear her breathing grow more shallow and ragged, her voice sobbing.

    "Walt…"

    No.

    Not her….

    I stumbled forward, trying to run as fast as I could to the rear of the school, the girl's voice becoming somewhat louder. When I reached that corner of the rear of the school, I counted the lockers.

    #108, Taylor's locker was rumbling and at the base of the locker was a puddle of rotten liquids. I could see from where I stood that the lock was engaged and I would not have the strength to yank it open.

    "Please…" I heard her plead "…somebody, anybody, help me!"

    I sprinted away, my eyes scanning the walls for any sign of a maintenance closet. A few of the students and staff that were in the hall looked upon my frantic search with distress and fear, I paid them no mind and continued, eventually finding my quarry.

    A janitor's closet with an old wooden door and doorframe, I could see the parts of the door that were beginning to rot. Somehow.

    I gave the door's weak spots a test push then walked back to get a running start for my kick.

    "Young man!" I heard a teacher frantically shout "Young man I need you to stop what you're doing-"

    I ignored him and charged forward and booted down the door clean off it's hinges.

    I tossed the ruined door aside, and spotted a pair of bolt cutters, fresh out of the packaging.

    The teacher that tried to get my attention, a young one shorter than me. Like a kid trying on one of his father's suits. Once again I ignored him and took the bolt cutters. The teacher put a hand on my shoulder and tried to tell me to stop.

    I did not have time for this nonsense

    I swung the bolt cutters flat across the right side of his face and into the wall, the crowd that was gathering gasped in shock.

    I rushed back to Locker #108, as I rounded the corner Rhodes' stalker was leaning against my own locker. Her eyes filled with dark and grim satisfaction and her mouth turned upwards in a smug and sadistic grin.
    I ignored her and pressed on, quickly taking the bolt cutters and breaking open the padlock. I tossed the bolt cutters aside and began working open the door and soon….

    Taylor Hebert, covered in gore and insects came out, hanging on by a thread.

    I held her close and cradled her to my chest, looking over to the now gathered crowd their phones in their hands recording.

    My gaze grew fierce and I spat out the last words I would say today.

    "Call a fucking ambulance!"

    Yup. Long time coming. 2.2 is gonna be shorter. Lemme know how I did. This was not an easy write. Have a good one.

    Fixed some typos and formatting issues. Edited again on 11/8/2020 after Thamerlin over in the SpaceBattles thread pointed out quite a few typos. They also mentioned some punctuation errors howver I have yet to change them.
     
    Last edited:
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    • Bend & Break 2.2
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    • Taylor
    ​
    Sophia thought she'd put the final nail in my coffin with one last taunt

    "That fucking hick boy you came in with? He won't be coming to save you, guess he pissed off the ABB enough to have them gang up on his ass in the bathroom. He'll be leaving here just like you will; in a fucking body bag!"

    Walt was in trouble and the only person who knew and cared in this hellhole would be me.

    That thought alone brought me back into consciousness.

    The steel walls closing in, the rot, the damn bugs?

    Cleared from my thoughts almost entirely.

    I never thought I would say this, but somehow a wind instrument technique taught to me by a rich and flamboyant dunce is actually helping me keep myself from having a panic attack. I lost consciousness for only a moment, but some of the tricks Donnie taught me for circular breathing helped calm me down. Even with the stench of rot filling my nose with every breath and the buzzing and chittering of the bugs crawling around me and the filth, I was focused!

    That awkward, socially fucking inept, dorky cowboy was in trouble and nobody was going to save him. Nobody was coming to save me either, I had to do something to get out and then get help, he'd do it for me!

    I used what little space and leverage I had in this coffin. Rocking back and forth, putting every ounce of effort and strength I had into slamming the door open. I could feel the door starting to give but slamming it wouldn't do it good any more. Ignoring the sensation of the filth and bugs creeping further into me from behind, I went as far back as I could to get my back against the wall and put my legs up against the door. Out of all things, Lily's color commentary from that party gave me the idea with her story about how grasshopper legs worked and why their kicks would be the ultimate weapon.

    Well I had some long legs, may as well use em!

    The creaking metal motivated me of the locker door's own cries of pain were pushing me forward, egging me on to give it all I had and more.

    With one last squeal of warping metal, the door came free of its hinges and I slid out to freedom feeling cool and clear liquid. Clean air filled my lungs and purged the stench from my nostrils. I opened my eyes and rinsed the filth from my glasses as I staggered to my feet.

    The halls of Winslow High School were not there when my eyes adjusted, instead I found myself in a shallow pool of water with nothing but a sinister screaming and swirling crimson vortex descending around me. I could hear Sophia, Emma, Madison and the rest of their posse's taunts, the cry of pain and shattering glass that filled the nightmares of my mother's death, my father's weeping at her funeral all on within the howls and wails of that terrible thing. I could do nothing but stare at it, seeing the twisting and distorted faces of those voices warp across it's body, and watch as it came closer and closer.

    With a deep breath I rose up and ran straight through it.

    With every step the vortex tore at me, first at the remaining filth, then at my clothes, then my flesh, and then even my bones.

    I ran and ran, enduring every cut and tear from the vortex until it parted and I found myself at a ledge overlooking an endless starry void.

    From the void came two figures; writhing flesh things that looked like nothing I had ever seen and bore only a passing resemblance to a pair of worms. Even though I knew they were at the very edge of the void I could tell that they were massive, larger than what should be possible for any living and organic creature. I saw them twist and collide in some horrible mockery of a dance, sparks and shards coming loose from their horrid flesh. From edges of the void came two more figures; one was another worm-thing, the second a small and almost imperceptible flash of iridescent light.

    The third worm twisted and coiled, colliding through one of the dancing pair and sending it falling through the void. The iridescent flash blinked in and out of view, leaving craters and crags across the remaining of the paired worms while the interloping third twisted away. Both worm-thing and flashing light fought with even greater vigor and ferocity

    The void rushed towards me showing the battle closer and in greater detail; the worm-thing was larger than I could possibly have imagined, mountains of flesh and viscera seemingly going on for eternity, and the iridescent flash's source danced away from the tendrils and warps the worm sent its way. The light was coming from a mane of rainbow feathers flowing freely from a golden headdress, acting as a crown of a man with green skin. This green man held a physique found only within the carved marble of some renaissance statue and was naked save for a loincloth, bracers, and greaves made from gold.

    The worm-thing flailed and whipped hoping to strike the green man who merely danced and weaved his way past the creatures fierce-some flurry. The man struck with swiping elbows, hammered fists, sweeping kicks, and flying knees all tearing through the worm creature who only twisted and wiggled as its wounds slowly closed into maws of teeth or hardening into an impervious shell. The man was undeterred, merely rolling his shoulders or taking pensive poses as he dodged his prey's counters.

    Soon, the green man stood still and his flesh began to ripple and warp, his golden garb and rainbow headdress shattering away as his flesh bubbled and grew. His head stretched and twisted, becoming that of a hound with teeth like knives and long ebon horns piercing from his brow, massive leathery wings like that of a fruit bat tore free from his back and spine, his left arm bursting open into a teeming nest of massive vipers with eyes of blazing crimson haze, his right growing into a gruesome three fingered claw, his legs becoming horrible mockeries of a large feline, and finally growing a long tail constantly sprouting twisting and curving blades made of bone.

    From there the fight was no longer a warrior pummeling a mountain, but a snarling beast ripping and tearing at prey.
    ​
    [DESTINATION]
    ​
    Where the serpents struck, the worm's flesh melted away now diseased and necrotic.​

    [AGREEMENT]
    ​
    Where its horns pierced, the worm's blood flowed freely​

    [TRAJECTORY]
    ​
    Within all of this carnage a strange piece of the worm broke free and span away from the two combatants…​

    [AGREEMENT]
    ​
    …and began flying right towards me!

    I scrambled back to my feet, not knowing that I fell to my knees watching whatever those things were, and braced myself to run through the vortex again. To my surprise, the vortex was gone and only an endless flat and cracked stone field remained. I ignored the pain and agony the adrenaline or shock had masked, hoping to escape whatever that shard-thing had in store, getting three good strides in before tripping and falling.

    Rather than the pain of hitting the ground, my face hit something gold, sticky and warm. The dried cracked earth broke away, revealing more of the gold and sticky substance and dragging me further under, eventually bringing even my head within the now shining gold. I flailed and thrashed, hoping to reach the surface while I held what precious little breath within me. A panicked reflex had me breathe in this substance, only to find oxygen filling my lungs and my tongue tasting the sweetest and stickiest honey. My wounds felt full and warm, the pain melting away as I sank deeper into the honey. I felt something dive in this golden ocean and prick at my head, then nothing but warmth and comfort.

    In the distance I swear I could hear Mom humming a lullaby and further then that, Walt shouting for an ambulance.

    My eyes felt heavier, and heavier, my breathing steadied, and then I drifted off to sleep.

    Alright this one is a short one and I do not know how I could have done this any better, either way an early holiday gift since I had one last burst of energy before I start packing up to move. I hope you all enjoy, DM me questions and I will answer them to the best of my ability (either within spoilers or in DMs) in the meantime im gonna lurk while doing dishes and getting my trash ready to be tossed in the morning. Have a good one, feel free to comment even if its reaction gifs of WTF.
     
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    • Height/Build Chart I guess.
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    • Because i don't really know how to put this in without it being forced but here's the heights of the Band (so far)

    Taylor: 5'6" (as per canon's WoG posting)
    Walt: 5'9"
    Donnie: 5'7"
    Lily: 5'5"

    Build Wise;

    Taylor y'all know
    Walt is average build leaning towards stocky and athletic
    Donnie is very much in shape and has got the male model physique (without being extreme)
    Lily is very athletic and has a build similar to a soccer player

    When I get to rewriting Origin I'll do better descriptions in prose.

    Just kinda thought of the cover of Usual Suspects with the lineup and cards while reading another story and it commenting on a height difference.
     
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    • Special Chapter #1 - The Sanguine Fool
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    • The Sanguine Fool

    11/13/10​

    Amy walked out of the crappy chain coffee house, dissatisfied and roughly $2.50 poorer.

    "Whoever said that 'Dunkies' was in any way the end all be all of coffee needed to have their tastebud privileges revoked." She thought to herself as she trudged down the alley shortcut back to Brockton Bay General.

    She had been forced to take an hour long break by damn near anyone with any authority in the hospital, telling her that she was working too damn hard and that even if she wasn't technically an employee she should still have taken several breaks and rests by now. Hell, an anesthesiologist even said if she didn't take a break she'd be sedated, powers or no.

    Despite the sentiment and concern behind such an action, Amy couldn't help but resent the staff for it. Especially because they told her that she needed to take her break away from the hospital. She assumed it was so that they made sure she couldn't just sneak off and heal people anyway.

    Granted she had done so in the past so to them it would have been a better idea for them to force her on a break off site.

    Amy muttered curses and grumbled about meddlers and busybodies as she brooded down the alley, paying no mind to the dumpster with shaking trash and a strange moaning coming from its open lid and even less mind to the bum slouching down a few feet ahead of it.

    That is, until she reached him and he asked in a strange and gravelly voice

    "Gotta light?"

    Rather than ignoring him as she usually would, Amy stopped and let out a sigh of frustration.

    "Sure." she breathed out, her hands rummaging through the pockets of her costume trying to find the disposable lighter she bought a few nights ago. Not noticing the risen bum with a brandished knife.

    In a flash of movement the bum pinned her to the wall by her neck, his free arm across it choking her while his knife hand held the blade up to her cheek.

    Amy reached wildly for any exposed flesh or anything biological, hoping for a vector for her powers to help deal with and only finding surprisingly clean clothing covering him head to toe. By reflex, she threw her knee into the attacker's groin and despite finding her target, the man showed no reaction beyond a wet and foul giggle. She looked into the eyes of the assailant, finding manic tiny beady eyes that seemed to lead into a never ending abyss. The knife in his hand was being traced around the underside of her jawline as this assailant wheezed out a sinister chortle.

    The assailant reeled back his knife hand, preparing for a thrust into her abdomen but was torn away suddenly and violently. The bum had been thrown into the wall across, a man in jeans, sneakers, and a letterman jacket her apparent savior.

    The man stood tall and lean maybe six-foot-two, his breath ragged and showing no fog of condensation with his exhales, and his eyes red as blood and with a strange shine of animalistic hunger within. As the knife wielding bum began to rise, the red eyed man sped down and took a bite into the downed man's neck. Rather than a howl of pain, the beady eyed bum cried out in ecstasy as his eyes glazed over in rapture. Amy could only watch, her body paralyzed in shock as she slid down the wall and on to the cold pavement.

    Soon as it began, the tall man seemed to come to his senses and quickly scrambled back along the ground backwards and ending up sitting right next to the still shocked Amy, all the while gagging, hacking, and screaming like a frightened woman. Turning his head and seeing the shocked expression on Amy's face, showing her his now brown eyes filled with shock and disgust. After a beat, the man once again shrieked and shot up to his feet prancing about as if he were an old housewife trying to avoid a rodent that had gotten in to her kitchen.

    "Jesus, Mary, and Joesph!" He shouted before retching up enough blood to have killed someone and then pointing at the still dazed out bum "You tasted like liquid ass!"

    Finally finding her voice Amy called out to the man, who was still shaking in disgust and frantically checking himself and muttering about "Those asshats who drink junkies are full of shit."

    Soon the man stood still, let out a quick breath and then spat out a drop of blood on to the face of the downed bum before walking down the alley the way Amy had come down, muttering and cursing about how disgusting the blood he had just drank and then vomited was.

    The healer looked to her left, seeing the light of Brockton Bay General and the entrance to the ER, then to her right down the dim alley and to what could only be described as a very strange cape with vampiric abilities.

    Her decision came surprisingly easily

    She rose to her feet and caught up to the man, grabbing one of his arms as she practically lunged and cursing both her poor cardio and her smoking. Whatever words she planned to say stopped in her throat when her hand grabbed his.

    Dead.

    That was what her power was telling her.

    The man who had saved her, moved faster than what was possible, the man who otherwise looked completely normal.

    Was dead.

    No organ function whatsoever, the only thing that seemed to be close to "alive" was the strange substance in his veins. Despite the similarity, it was most certainly not human blood. Then there was the matter of the man's brain, despite brains being a hard line she refused to cross she let her power touch the dead thing and found it completely dead and, even more surprising, without either Corona.

    Her thoughts became frantic, her eyes grew wide with fear, trying to justify the paradox before her. A Man who by all amounts seemed to be alive and well even warm to the touch and had a semblance of a pulse had absolutely no living tissue within him.

    The man raised an eyebrow and ran his free hand through his black hair, while his mouth turning up into a bemused smile, his thoughts no longer on the rather unpleasant drink he just had.

    "You uh, gonna let my arm go kid?" He asked politely.

    Amy's mind was locked into a circular loop, trying to justify or reconcile how a man could look alive even taking breaths but still be very much dead. Which meant that the man she was hanging on to could freely poke her cheek and nose while asking her if she was ok.

    Seeing that she wouldn't be letting go, the man pried her fingers off with just enough force to do so without breaking off her fingers with that strange strength he had giving Amy a look at the blood-like substance quickly flowing into his hands and doing something that gave him his enhanced strength.

    "Sorry kid, but I gotta find my car right now." He said apologetically and with a friendly chuckle "Hope I don't have a ticket or got booted…"

    Before he could turn away, Amy looked in to his eyes and asked

    "What the fuck are you?" the fear and shock present in her voice

    The man's smile left him replaced by a somewhat surprised but still amused pout before returning with a wide grin showing off his teeth, and the fanged canines among them.

    "Just your friendly neighborhood vampire, kiddo!" he said truthfully and transparently.

    "Bullshit." Was all Amy could say, the fear and shock that gripped her replaced with a desire for answers

    The supposed vampire simply gave a friendly laugh and a pat on the shoulder before waving goodbye and continuing his car quest, Amy not far behind and asking him several questions after checking the downed bum and finding him only slightly anemic and high on some new drug she didn't have the time or focus to figure out quite yet.

    "Where did you come from?" she stared

    "California originally, but if you were asking about where in the alley I was at the bottom of a surprisingly clean and tidy dumpster hiding from the sun."

    "How are you able to move or speak while your muscles are not functioning in any way?" she asked

    "I dunno." He replied cheerfully and unhelpfully

    "Why did your bite make that guy with the knife look like he was having an orgasm?" she asked, this time with the bite of irritation in her words

    "No clue." He said, his face twisting in disgust

    "What the hell is in your veins, because it sure as hell is not blood." she stated more than asked

    "Its called Vitae and before you even ask, I dunno how it works." He said, his face returning to that same friendly expression that seemed natural on his features.

    Amy's fourth question was never uttered, the supposed vampire turned around and held a hand up to stop her, between his index and middle finger was a business card.

    "Listen kid, normally I'd be down to play twenty-one questions but I need to make sure the Ranchero is ok, I gotta let my landlady know I'm ok and…" He chuckled to himself and his smile grew wider, once again showing his fangs almost glistening in the half moon's light "…quite frankly I need to catch some actually restful Z's in my coffin tonight."

    Handing her the business card, Amy took it carefully. The main face of it read;

    Logan's Mill Apartments

    Guadalupe Marquez

    Landlady    ​

    Along with her contact information on the opposite side, which normally would have been blank, was written in a nigh illegible script;

    Johnny Whitmore ​

    And a phone number

    "Any time within two to four hours after sunset and you can reach me at that number or address. Don't call Lupe though, she's my boss not my secretary."

    With that, as soon as she had met him, Johnny Whitmore walked off into the night, leaving Amy standing on that lonely street with only the dying streetlight above her head and the sparse few cars rolling down the road as company.

    Soon after she would return to Brockton Bay General, going through the motions of her job-but-not-quite was rather easy when she just had to touch and slightly focus to work her power. To those that interacted with her regularly, she was no longer bitter and burnt but rather distant and determined. Many of the medical staff would call that an improvement, and the few who were genuinely concerned only grew more-so.

    To her family, the reactions were a lot more mixed. Her mother Carol's side eye looks and distrust grew along with every second of contemplation, her father Mark was more content to sit on the couch as usual trying to work up the energy to say something but never quite reaching what it was, and her beloved sister Vicky? She would attempt to tease or pry, insinuate that maybe she was infatuated with some mystery man, and yet even Vicky garnered no real reaction beyond polite deflection and uttered assurances that she was indeed fine and that it was only a medical problem that she couldn't quite understand even with her power. Despite her sister's concern, she left it at that and pried no further.

    Seven days of contemplation and her decision was finally made, on yet another break, although this one was a willing one, she stepped away from Brockton Bay General and made the call as she walked down the same alleyway shortcut, this time with the light of the full moon revealing all that would have hid in the shadows.

    After three rings, her call was answered.

    "Hello?" Johnny said groggily and with a yawn.

    "Hey. It's Panacea." she says, still not quite believing that she was in fact calling a man who seemed to be a vampire.

    "The fuck is that?" he replies, still groggy and voice clear with confusion

    "Amy." She said, slowly before finally adding "Dallon."

    A pregnant pause filled her phone and then quickly delivered

    "Look, lady." Johnny said, politely and evenly "I think you got the wrong number…"

    Before he had the chance to hang up and possibly block her number, Amy let out a rapid fire response

    "The girl from a week ago? The one you saved from a mugger?" her voice becoming more frantic with every word "You drank him then freaked out about the taste?"

    "Oh. Oh! Now I remember!" Wakefulness and clarity came to Johnny's voice "Wasn't sure if you were gonna call or not."

    "Yeah, wasn't quite sure of it myself." She replied with a sigh of relief "I was hoping we could meet up and you could answer my questions. Now that you've gotten some rest in that coffin of yours."

    Johnny let out a delighted chuckle "Yeah, it really beats sleeping in a dumpster. Yeah I can come and meet, when and where?"

    Amy smiled to herself as she relayed the meetup point; an out of the way coffee house with a rather strange floor-plan that left one booth not only out of the way of the main window but was also open till midnight. She had made sure to do some research over the last few days to make sure she wouldn't be disturbed if/when the time came for the two to meet. She had arrived first being a somewhat short walk from the alley, made sure to get that out of the way booth, and ordered a small plain and black coffee. Thirteen minutes later, Johnny Whitmore pulled up in front of the coffee house and walked in, Amy waving him over.

    Too her surprise he ordered a cappuccino and a bagel for himself and began consuming both with gusto

    "Dollar coins, dollar coins…" he muttered in between bites and sips "So annoying they make you wish for bills again."

    Amy's initial plans of simply asking him her questions after a short greeting were dashed upon seeing him actually consume food and remark on the taste.

    "So you can still eat?" She asked

    "Uh-huh." He replied with a mouthful of bagel

    "How the hell does that work?"

    Johnny shrugged before responding

    "Every lick in my bloodline can do that according to my Sire." He said, pausing to take another sip of cappuccino "Vitae can break it down even, no barfing it up at the end of the night like other Dracul do, at least the ones I've met anyway. Not that we get anything out of it except being able to taste it, I think it even makes us have to drink blood a little sooner too, emptying the tank I guess."

    Amy shook her head in confusion, her hood falling down and revealing her features in full to the vampire.

    "You mind explaining the terms you keep using? Vitae, Sire, Lick?"

    Johnny leaned back into the vinyl booth seating, taking one last sip of his drink

    "Lick's a slang term for vampire, Vitae is the vampire juice in our bodies, Sire is who turned you into a vamp, and Dracul is the type of vampire I am, with my bloodline being the long line of vampires that are starting to drift off into their own thing but are not quite there yet."

    Amy was reasonably sure that the implication that Dracula was a real vampire that this smiling jackass in front of her was related to was utterly bullshit and yet somehow she believed it. Rather than asking for confirmation, she continued on to another line of questions

    "So there are other's like you?"

    Johnny sighed and winced

    "I mean, I've met at least a couple dozen in the past." he said, finishing off his bagel "But I haven't seen any in a couple years, hell I may be the only vampire in the tri-state area."

    Johnny looked over the white and red robes Amy wore, and pointed to them as he asked a question of his own.

    "You called yourself Panacea over the phone, what are you like one of those cosplay girls that LARP in public as their OC or something?"

    Amy, taken aback by the seemingly lack of knowledge of who she was least of all in Brockton Bay, slowly replied

    "I'm a cape. Panacea is my cape name. I'm a healer."

    Johnny quirked up an eyebrow

    "What like a superhero? Thought you guys all wore masks and shit?"

    Amy shook her head and let out a sigh before taking a sip of her now cooling coffee "Not in New Wave."

    "The fuck is New Wave?"

    Amy's brow furrowed in confusion

    "You have never heard of New Wave? We're capes that don't bother with secret identities."

    "First off, that sounds like the dumbest idea. Second, I ain't from around here kid, only been here about three weeks and there's a lot I don't know."

    Johnny held up a finger, putting a pause on the conversation to wave over the lone barista who was far more interested in the music coming from her earbuds than any part of the conversation they were having. Nonetheless, the barista seemed to have a sixth sense for customers and came by asking what she could do to be of service. Johnny simply ordered another cappuccino and thumbed out a couple five dollar bills from his wallet and telling her to toss it in the tip jar or in her back pocket, whichever worked out better for her.

    In the thirty seconds it was out, Amy caught sight of what she thought was a few one dollar bills, an impossibility, sticking out of the bill pocket and even more interesting a small Polaroid photo of Johnny and a group of seven kids to teens sitting in front of a big rig truck. The group of youths were a dusky guy about the same height as Johnny's six-foot-two with long dark hair and a hooked nose, a rather attractive blonde with delicate features, an auburn haired girl in a wheelchair, a brawny and jock looking guy with a snub nose, a short and dumpy blonde kid with a really bad haircut that he somehow made work, a guy with a beanie that was taller than long hair and shorter than the jock, and a kinda cure girl with straight brown hair, her lower half covered with a large quilt.

    Johnny clenched his hand, snapping the wallet shut and getting Amy's attention.

    "My kids. Found 'em while I was bummin' around Wisconsin a while back." He said simply, his voice filling with nostalgia "They got in over their heads and I couldn't just leave 'em out to dry."

    Johnny ran a thumb over his closed wallet before pocketing it

    "Got two other photos from those days I kept, let them keep the rest for a scrapbook that they started. Stuck with them up till September, this year."

    Amy saw sadness mar the nostalgia in his face and heard it creep into his voice. She had to ask.

    "Why did you leave them? They seemed pretty happy in that photo."

    Johnny simply shrugged "I had my reason, 'sides Frank, my fellow beanpole, was ready to take over and lead em properly. Shouldn't have a dead man be their crutch anyway…"

    A single crimson tear fell from Johnny's eyes, wiping it away, he continued

    "Sorry. Tangent. You have other questions about vamps right?"

    Sensing a wall in that line of conversation, she returned to her many questions and got mostly unhelpful answers. Despite this, she didn't find the conversation irritating and soon the conversation went to other topics. What he did for work, what she did in her spare time, actually getting to know another person. Despite experience telling her otherwise, Johnny was completely open, transparent, and genuine. Something she found quite refreshing, so much so that she actually answered his own questions mostly truthfully.

    The night flew by, and soon the barista came by to point out the time; 11:30 PM and that she was going to close up early for the night. Johnny simply let out a friendly laugh.

    "It's OK, I gotta be somewhere soon anyway."

    He handed her a twenty this time and reiterated her tossing it in her tip jar or back pocket whichever worked better for her. The barista smiled and simply said that he would always be welcome in her cafe.

    Amy followed him out the door and caught side of his car; a beat up Ford Ranchero that somehow seemed much tougher and more loved than one would expect from such an ugly car.

    "Hey, you wanna lift?" Johnny asked, his arm stretched out to the passenger seat "I can give you a lift home or to work or whatever."

    Amy gave him a shake of the head and a smile

    "Sure."

    The drive was quiet and short, the car's stereo was playing some Aleph 90's pop, and he made sure to park a bit a ways from the ER's entrance.

    As Amy got out of the car, she asked Johnny one last question her voice filled with a little hope;

    "Can we hang out again sometime?"

    Johnny gave her one of his winning smiles and shrugged

    "Eh, why not kid? Anytime between two to four hours after sunset, remember?"

    Amy nodded and turned towards the ER, listening to the old and most certainly wise for a car's engine grow quieter as it drove off into the night.

    Those that cared enough to notice would say that Amy Dallon began smiling a bit more and walking a little taller that full moon night in mid November. Even with a sudden surge of hits on gang activity from a mysterious vigilante bringing in more people for her to heal.

    Whew! I almost could not start this for the life of me, like I could not figure out where I was going with this. Outline your stories first before you write something it helps out a fuckton. Lemme know how I did and if shit's kosher.

    I did say this would come with some homebrew right? Well here it is, a new Follower for people who want a Vampire enforcer fot their Scions!

    Vampie Enforcer

    "A Vampire to be your extra fist in the night"

    Follower (4)

    Tags: Heavy, Savage (Vampire Strength), Access (Vampire Society), Unruly (Vampire Arrogance), Tough (Vampire Fortitude)

    Just a little simple thing, I couldn't come up with anything that wasn't already in the books.
     
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    ♦ Topic: A Correction for "Mythology Exposed!"
    In: Boards ► Conspiracy Theories ► Ancient Aliens
    Procto the Unfortunate Tinker     (Original Poster) (Not a tinker)
    Posted On Jan 9th 2011:
    Alright, so my Sarah (my sister in law) said I got a lot wrong on my post, here's my corrections;

    First off regarding what I said about good old Thor;

    "Wields a hammer that only he can lift"

    Yeah that's not the whole story.

    See, Mjolnir's deal wasn't that only Thor could lift it, but that he was one of the few people who could handle it without its awesome power presumably frying them to a crisp. Hell, Thor couldn't wield it proper without a pair of gloves called Járngreipr (Iron Grippers) since the handle was shorter than it should have been due to a gadfly biting the smith who made it's eye mid creation. Fun fact the gadfly is just assumed to be Loki dicking around. Thor also had another magic item; megingjörð (Power Belt) which just doubles Thor's already awesome strength.

    Let me reiterate; Thor doesn't need the belt that makes him twice as strong to use Mjolnir, he needs the gloves that let him hold on to things better to wield it. Thor's a pretty cool guy he fights giants and doesn't afraid of anything

    ...Thank god there isn't a downvote feature on this site because you all would no doubt smash it to Helheim for saying that old meme...

    Moving on to Adonis Rhodos, yeah I got A LOT wrong on this one and was the main reason I'm even posting this on its own.

    Let's start with "Adonis Rhodos is the only member of the Hellenistic pantheon to have a surname"

    Yeah he isn't unique in this regard, they all have surnames or an epiteth usually involving where they're being worshiped or in what regard they're being revered (I think). Here's some examples;

    Zeus Olympios would be Zeus as king of the gods of Olympus and Zeus Panhellios is his name as he is worshiped everywhere in ancient Greece, Athena Parthenos (Athena the Virgin), Aphrodite's most common epithet was Aphrodite Philommeidḗs (Aphrodite Smile-Lover) and in Sparta she was venerated as a war goddess (because all gods are war gods in Sparta) by the name of Aphrodite Areia (Aphrodite the Warlike, because Sparta).

    Here's the interesting part I found out while I was researching my corrections; Adonis Rhodos is ALWAYS known as Adonis Rhodos no matter where he was worshiped. Why is that significant? Because unlike the rest of his kin, no matter where he was worshiped he is always Adonis Rhodos. Never anything else. No matter where his cults sprouted up, he was always worshiped as Adonis Rhodos. It is often debated that it was the main reason why they tried to burn down the city of Rhodes, because the worship of him was becoming a problem. Supposedly he descended from the heavens and whipped up a storm that doused the flames before they got out of control.

    This is the main reason why I did this because I missed this key bit of info. While I was researching this, I dug up another thing; Donald Rhodes Jr's mother is Greek. There is only one known photo of her and that's because Don Sr. used his considerable assets to unperson her in the media. The only photo that remains is a candid photo that has her face heavily blurred by nature of the shitty camera work. There are a sizeable amount of people in this conspiracy circle that claim that this woman is Aphrodite who for some reason decided to shack up with Don Sr, Adonis Rhodos decided to incarnate within his mother's womb (again) and be reborn as Donald Rhodes Jr.

    For some reason.

    Personally I find that kind of stupid. Moving on

    "once apon a time there was Ra, king of the gods. One day he got old as shit and is retired. He says to his son Osiris" this is wrong on so many levels. There is a story here that involves the birth of the Goddess Sekhmet and/or Bast, and Osiris is his great grandson through Osiris's Dad. Set is not Osiris' brother, but Ra's. Now his bitch fit makes more sense.

    I got the emperor of japan/amaterasu connection wrong too. Grandson not son.

    No further corrections (on account of not having much to go on in the first place) but I did find something interesting on the Aztec side of things;

    So. The Last King (Tlatoani) of the Aztecs was a guy named Cuauhtémoc (good luck pronouning that). That is not his original name, his original name has been lost to history supposedly. He was given this name by the last priests of the religion during the lovely reign of one Hernan Cortes. See, the priests predicted Cortes' arrival and just told the people that he was in fact Quetzalcoatl when they friggin knew that he would be the downfall of the empire, and that their last Tlatoani would be known by the same name as a primordial and OLD AS SHIT god; Cuauhtémoc, his epithet (which is impossible to type correctly so you get the translation) is "Herald of The End Times, Father of the New World"

    According to the diary of Cortes, he did everything in his power to try to save the Nauhat peoples. I know, "White Savior" alarm is going off right now I bet. But here's the thing, there is archeological evidence that suggests that the Aztec Empire was trying to assimilate into Spanish culture and stuff by order of the priesthood and Montezuma. They knew that they wouldn't survive as they were and only under Spanish rule and Catholicism would they continue. According to the translated texts of some recently discovered (like 1995 recent) Aztec ruins, it's because Cuauhtémoc witnesses the end of all cycles and that he knew the Spanish were coming, so when they did come the Nauhat peoples would live on even if their empire didn't.

    Why would he tell them this? We do not know. Scholars have been debating that for decades.Not even the ruins found in 95 showed any answers to that.

    ​
    (Showing page 1 of 4)

    ►Deimos
    Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
    Uhhh...

    Ok. Good on you for the correction. I have learned some shit. My time was not wasted for once.

    ►Morgan Sinister
    Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
    Yeah that Aztec story's a trip. My nana told me that story (she's catholic but likes to tell the old Aztec Stories that her nana, and her nana's nana, and so on told)

    ►Forgotten Creator
    Replied On Jan 9th 2011:
    Yeah, Cortes' Diary is kind of a sad read. Throughout the whole thing he comes off as a guy who's dreading every action he's taking. Apparently he treated his Aztec wife and mixed child very well (despite portrayals in historical fiction saying otherwise) and killed a man who tried to lay hands on his baby mama. Hell he tried to write down every damn Aztec story, had people document as much as he could, but the church didn't like that and had it burned. It was only some of his own diary and some of the writings being hidden by some confidants of his that we even have them today.

    ​
    End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4
    ​
    ■
    ​
    ♦ Private Messages: Greg - It's Madison, ANSWER NOW!

    Specific_Protagonist: It's Madison from School, I know this is your PHO account, no you aren't subtle. I don't care what you think of the shit I do at school or what I've posted online. This is important. Something bad is going to happen at school tomorrow, and I can't stop it. I have tried. I am leaving you this zip file. If something happens to me, if I go missing. Take a copy of that to the police.
    Attached File: NUsinsofthedallonsisters1.zip (1.7 GB)
    ​
    XxVoid_CowboyxX: WOO DAMN! You are so lucky that I don't buy what you're selling. I am not beta-ing your newest bit of degeneracy Madison. Can't wait to tell the whole school! Not that they'd believe me, but hey.

    Specific_Protagonist: Listen to me dammit! I know I am a collossal bitch, I know I have done some fucked shit. But what Sophia and Emma have planned is too fucking far! Take the fucking file. Read it if you want or don't, just please! If Something happens! Just give it to the fucking cops.

    XxVoid_CowboyxX: Even if I did believe you, why me?

    Specific_Protagonist: Because you are probably the only person who would give a shit about Taylor even when you don't have the balls to stand up for her. Because they wouldn't expect me to send ANYTHING let alone evidence to you.

    XxVoid_CowboyxX: You're really in over your head aren't you?

    Specific_Protagonist: Just promise me you will give this to the cops if something happens.

    XxVoid_CowboyxX: I promise.


    Just a little something for you guys that I shot off the top of my head. Have a good day!
     
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    • Bend & Break 2.3
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    • Donnie

    01/10/11​

    I awoke to the dulcet tones of Stevie Knicks blasting out of my stereo alarm, the digital numbers flashing 5:30 AM. Rather than slapping the snooze button, I decided to let it play and be the soundtrack to my morning routine;
    1. Bathing
    2. Grooming
    3. Wardrobe
    4. Giving my precious Pegaso watch the TLC it deserves
    5. Putting on the day's smile

    Bathing is self explanatory, a solid thirty minutes of meticulous maintenance of my majestic body. The soap and shampoo are not the luxury trash that my contemporaries in the modeling scene favor or shill, none of it feels right on my skin or in my hair. No, I preferred this peculiar homemade stuff that Nessa had recommended around the time we first met, a local salon made it and I made damn sure to buy in bulk and pay a little extra for the trouble.

    Don't judge, shit works.

    Only on special occasions do I spend a particularly long time grooming myself, especially nowadays. I usually go for something simple with my hair; a sidepart, slicked back, maybe a pompadour or faux hawk if I want to go a little wild. After hair is done right, it's on to the choice of fragrance. Today's agenda is open and most likely will be spent with Pops now that he's settling in and getting our new home ready, while that may not mean manual labor or lots of physical activity it would still be a good idea to go for some basic deodorant and antiperspirant.

    Wardrobe is a simple choice; a sport coat and a pair of my nicer jeans. Perfect for spending time with Pops no matter the setting! Which leaves putting on the days smile, after all you're never fully dressed without one!

    By the time this is all said and done, it's already 7 in the AM and time for breakfast, which as always is plain oatmeal and a tall glass of OJ.

    Breakfast for me has always been a time of quiet reflection, Mom and Pops were usually up earlier than me and had their morning routine complete by the time I was ready and they'd often be out of the house at work or elsewhere, leaving me alone. I mean it sucked when I was younger but with Pops finally being allowed to explain? Yeah, makes sense. It's all thanks to Great Gramps, that horny bastard! Aside from being stoked about the family secret, Pops coming home, and planning my debut on the scene my thoughts were of my new…acquaintances. I hadn't earned the privilege of calling them friend just yet.

    Lily I spent the least amount of time with but she is most certainly the most interesting, still can't believe that I actually ran in to her so soon and prior to her finding herself. To find her so genuine and open, in this city of all places made assessment rather easy;

    The rising sun, finally able to feel its own warmth again​

    Taylor is the perfect apprentice and despite her own modesty is a quick learner and a damn fine student, I never had the chance to really think on a proper assessment for her when we had first met, but now that she's my student?

    A bird almost broken down, now finally breaking free​

    Walt may not wear his heart on his sleeve but he sure has his intentions clear, he was the toughest assessment out of all of em and I wasn't certain that it was a correct one.

    Stoicism wrapped tightly around cotton pretending its a cactus​

    I was honestly surprised that they had gone along with my idea to hang out, Walt especially, and Lily actually providing the entertainment. I mean I'm not really a fan of capeshit, Aleph or otherwise, but I do enjoy cheese. Especially when I get to dick around and talk over it without complaint, and hey my audience seemed to enjoy it. Still, with school back in session it's gonna be a bitch to have the time to hang with them. Figures the first peers I find that aren't vapid shitheads like that ginger broad from the totally-not-DIESEL shoot or workaholics that dedicate their social lives to family and their SO like Nessa have to go to public school. It wasn't like I couldn't spend time with them in study sessions, especially as much of a genius as I am, but good fucking gods above and below would that be dull.

    Before I could jump further down that thought pit, Pops popped in to the parlor with his usual winning smile and relaxed demeanor. I looked up and tried to match his smile but not quite able to capture how genuine it is. Never could make a completely genuine smile anyway.

    "Morning, son." he says as he takes a seat by me. "Sleep well?"

    "I guess." I replied honestly "Still kinda jazzed from last night."

    "That movie night with your apprentice, her cowboy friend, and little miss sunshine?" Pops beamed and leaned in towards me "My son finally taking an interest in spending time with people his own age, I should check out the window for pigs flying or for your grandma to be celibate."

    I let out a small chuckle before taking the last bite of my oatmeal, savoring the blandness

    "Mom still…" I started

    "With Kyushu?" Pops finished "Yeah."

    I looked down into my empty bowl, trying to tamp down on the frustration growing in me. Pops put his hand on my shoulder. I'd never admit this out loud, but I still felt like little kid whenever Pops did that or hugged me. Not like in a "not being taken serious" way, but in a nostalgic way. Safety, security, warmth, comfort. That kind of shit.

    "Don't worry Donald." He said, using my full first name. Him and Mom are the only people who get to call me Donald. "She's doing a whole lot better then the rest of us up here, that's for sure."

    "If you say so…" I grumbled out

    "On to more down to earth topics then." Pops let go of my shoulder and leaned back into his chair "You got anything planned today?"

    "Not really."

    "Wanna come with your dear old dad to work? Ride along and see what you'll be doing once you graduate?"

    You would think that I, being a rather wealthy and drop dead gorgeous dude, would decline. You'd be dead fucking wrong.

    "Really!?" I shot out of my seat like a rocket and I didn't have to fake my smile this time

    Pops chuckled and got up, I've been told that I look like my dad one for one barring two things; my hair color which I got from Mom, and my height which I got from mom's side of the family. I mean five seven is not short for a guy, but Jesus friggin Christo my dad's almost six foot!

    "Yeah, I only have two meetings today; one with Medhall and one with the dock union we're sourcing for that waterfront restoration project." He pulled me in for a one armed hug that I returned "Figured Max will be off his game when I got my pride and joy tagging along actually paying attention and learning something, and then we get some lunch. Afterwards is a meeting with a union boss over at the docks."

    "Pops. I would be more than honored to help you rub salt in his soon to be fresh wounds."

    Pops gave me an honest to Him pat on the back with an "Atta boy"

    After that it was off to the car, Pops saw a thing on the President's "Ground Force One" or whatever its called and got a friend of his to whip one up for him. Not that he needed it of course. Pops made sure to greet and chat up the driver, didn't catch his name. We didn't make a beeline for Medhall, Pops wanted to stop by the sort of temporary ghetto set up the transitional team were working out of in the heart of downtown, office space they were renting out was one part of a four way sandwich with an old ass clock tower as the filling. Yeah that was the most interesting thing to come out of meeting with the transitional team, Pops was brought up to speed, he called some plays, team went out to do em. Meanwhile I got glimpses of that weird clock tower.

    Then it was off to Medhall, and sadly that was a bust but not busty. They had to reschedule last minute for some reason or another, Pops was a little miffed but more so at how last minute it was. Well at least it gave us more time for lunch. Sadly Pops chose some ritzy five starred fancy feast kinda joint. Personally I coulda gone for some pizza, but Pops likes these places if only for one particular reason.

    Looking over this style over substance joint's menu somehow managed to make me feel less hungry. Still, I gave Pops a sly look before I snapped my fingers and gave a good cry of "Garcon!" to summon the waiter.

    "What can I get for you gentlemen this fine afternoon?" He asked in a faux upper crust New England accent.

    "I'd like to order something off menu." I said, closing the menu and giving the poor sap an aloof and indifferent look, relishing the frustration and fear building in the guy's expressions "How about a good old American staple; get me a grilled cheese and a tallboy of coke."

    The waiter tried to hide his distressed gulp before asking me on what kind of bread and what kind of cheese. I told him rye and five slices of American. He looked over to Pops like he would tell me no or at least order something on the menu.

    "I'll have the same thing my son is having but with a bottle of Corona Especial instead." is what he said instead

    I love it when my father joins in on my BS. Seeing these poor bastards in these stuffy places scurry like chickens with their heads cut off is just…

    ...Divine

    He and I both watched as the waiter walked into the kitchen and shortly after ran out with the chef shouting the most obscene list of threats ever spoken in French. Pops and I had a laugh. Took the guy forty five minutes to get back with the ingredients looking like he had to fight off some of those Azn Bitch Boys to get em. Little while later, there was a rather tasty looking pair of grilled cheeses. The waitstaff were huddled near who I assumed to be the maître d' or the manager.

    "Thank you." Pops said to the waiter, a different one from the poor bastard they sent out "Please, stay."

    A quick glance to the huddle of waiters told me they were nervous. Pops and I took our first bites of our sandwiches.

    "How is it, son?"

    I chewed and savored it for a few more seconds before swallowing and wiping away the crumbs

    "This is the best fucking grilled cheese I've had in a while." I told the waiter as I popped the tab of the can of coke.

    "I agree with my boy." he says, handing a couple hundreds to the waiter. "Make sure that gets to the poor kid they sent as a runner."

    Aside from that bit of fuckery, lunch was rather relaxing. Once we were back in the car, Pops raised the privacy screen and asked me a question that I was simultaneously prepared and not prepared to answer.

    "Well, I have no real segue into this question so I'm just going to ask you outright, son." Pops leaned towards me conspiratorially and stage whispered "Are you still dead set on doing the superhero thing?"

    "Of course, dear father." A wave of smug assurance filled me as I relaxed in my seat by him. "If Alex can do it by accident then I can surely do just as well if not better intentionally."

    Ah yes, my dear cousin Alex. He got dragged into the scene and the family got quite pissed from what I heard, I didn't get the chance to ask him how that happened at the family New Years shindig but he's local and he did say that I could hit him up for tips whenever.

    "Jesus, Donald." Pops shook his head and let out a sigh "I mean, I'd be doing the same thing in your position, but are you sure you want to go out in a costume and beat up tweakers, neo nazis, and whoever that lazy wannabe dragon drags into his posse every other night?"

    I faux pouted and crossed my arms, donning a totally-not-serious serious expression

    "Yus!" I said before gesticulating with every subsequent word. "The blood of heroes courses within my veins like a rushing waterfall cascading down the majestic cliffs of the highest mountains as the sun rises!"

    I dropped my act and gave my father the best "It's gonna be cool, bruh" look I could muster.

    "Besides, I already have my name picked out; I'm gonna be forever known as…" I paused and posed for effect "...The Levin Legend!"

    Sadly trying to raise your fist to the sky in a car is liable to make you punch the roof, and yes it will hurt and make you yelp.

    "Son that sounds like copyright infringement." Pops just had to burst my bubble with that "That sounds a lot like Legend and you're probably going to have to shorten it or change it."

    "Nonsense!" I said after nursing my fist "That has been will have to change his name when I hit the scene…"

    I'm hotter, my powers are radder, my style is better, and I can sing and dance.

    Pops just shook his head again

    "Regardless boy, you will need some extra firepower." Pops gave me a pat on the shoulder "Soon your Birthright will be ready and you can galavant around in spandex and harrassing the local scum."

    Hah! As if I would ever be caught dead in spandex. I'm going for the street clothes costume style!

    Conversation took a dip once we got to the docks. Business mode was once again activated we walked straight into the office of the de facto boss of the operation; another beanpole with glasses and dark hair! Mr. Beanpole's sudden rise from his seat knocked over his nameplate and made him hurt his knee.

    "Mr. Rhodes!" he said, trying desperately to not sound nervous.

    Pops took it in stride and came up to give the man a handshake.

    "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Hebert."

    Huh. Another "Hee-bert" as opposed to "A-bear"

    "This here's my son, Donald Rhodes III."

    Oh right, Pops introducing me.

    "Good to meet you Mr. Hebert." I said, politely and without my usual "I don't give a fuck" attitude and with my hand outstretched. I needed my best foot forward for this. "Would you happen to be related to a Taylor Hebert?"

    "I have a daughter named Taylor." he said cautiously and with an even more cautious squint and a slightly tense squeeze of my hand as we shook.

    "About five-six mostly leg, long black hair, glasses?" I said, trying not to do the test of strength on him

    "Yes?"

    "Small world! I'm her flute teacher." I said with a smile "I'm a regular at McCullough's and Saoirse asked me if I was willing to take on a student."

    If I could let out a sigh and not make it obvious that I was nervous I would have.

    "Yeah…" Mr. Hebert let go of my hand and smiled fondly with a hint of old melancholy. "…she's been practicing every night. Her mom would be proud."

    I put on the most friendly and sympathetic smile I could paint on

    "How 'bout you?" I ask him "You proud of her?"

    Mr. Hebert's melancholic smile left and in came a much softer and happier replacement

    "Yeah. I am."

    With that, I had an assessment for him…

    A man once broken, now reforged​

    Oh how I wish I could freely gush over my apprentice's progress to her precious padre! But alas, this is the time of my father and hers to break metaphorical bread and I shall have to reserve the gushing and glowing gabbery for when both she and her father are together.

    THE BASHFUL LOOK ON HER FACE SHALL FOREVER BE ETCHED IN TO MY MEMORY FOR IT SHALL BE CUTE!

    Anywho…

    Pops gently nudged the conversation back off the tangent I had caused and continued on with their business, which I only half-heartedly listened to. Mr. Hebert and Pops signed the deal contract, we got a tour and quick introduction with all the other jefes of the operation, staggered back to the office. I don't know if this is a me being so young thing, but I don't think I'll be all that big into this side of the family biz. Eh, thoughts for later.

    Of course, something just had to go wrong.

    As soon as we got back in to the office, Mr. Hebert's secretary came outside looking like she had just seen cousin T.

    "Danny…" The woman said "…Taylor is in the hospital."

    That's when things actually got a little blurry. My apprentice was hurt, my first apprentice, an apprentice that I hope would grant me the honor of being able to call her friend, was hurt. The only thing that I know for certain was that Pops got us all in our car and had the driver rush us to the hospital. We were greeted by Saoirse, Finn, and to my honest surprise Lily and her mom.

    Mr. Hebert asked them what they were doing there and Saoirse told us that Walt got hospitalized too, Lily and her mom were at McCullough's and they drove Finn and Saoirse over here when they got the call. A nurse or something came by and told us Taylor was in surgery, Walt got put in a hospital room and would probably be cleared in a couple hours, we were shown where the OR waiting room was and she pointed out that Walt's room was right around the corner. Lucky us I guess. Finn and Pops stayed with Mr. Hebert while the rest of us went to go visit the cowboy. We didn't have to go all that far, Walt was shoving his way past nurses with his chest all bound in bandages and gauze.

    Saoirse ran up and gave him a hug, Walt winced in pain but didn't make any sound.

    "I'm fine grandma." he was trying to hide that he was still in painkiller

    I tried to get my head back into the game, maybe lighten the mood a bit

    "What they run out of pain pills or something, cowboy?"

    Lily socked me in the arm for that and damn did it hurt

    "Not the time." Her voice was in full "don't fuck around" mode

    "I refused the anesthesia and painkillers they wanted to use, I don't need em." Walt said with a smirk

    "Sure, you macho bastard, why else would you be doing your damnedest trying to hide the fact that you are in a lot of pain?" Is what I would say if I wasn't so out of it.

    "Either way, any word on Taylor?" he said, the smirk leaving his mug

    "Still in the OR." Saoirse said, her face filled with worry "What happened to you two?"

    Walt told us about how Taylor got shoved into a locker filled with some bio waste and was stuck in there for hours, while he got jumped in the bathroom and got knocked unconscious. Saoirse made some sort of comment about how she knew sending him to "that school" was a bad idea, whichever one that was, and Lily's Mom was trying to tell her it wasn't her fault.

    What the fuck kind of shithole lets a pair of students just get attacked and then let go missing on their own damn campus?

    Lily's eyes went wide and then she had the look of someone trying not to punch someone out, I was getting there myself. Afterwards Lily's mom lead Saoirse back to the waiting room while we stayed in the hall, Walt wanted to say something away from the adult's ears.

    "I think I know someone who was involved."

    Lily and I looked to Walt

    "What do you mean?" I urged him to elaborate

    "On the eighth, when I was getting sandwiches. I ran into a girl, she was attacked and I helped her out. She told me that she deserved it because of some thing her and some friends were doing to a girl at their school. She told me the latest 'prank' they had planned was too fucked up, a prank involving a locker stuffed with biological waste."

    Lily caught on and said something faster than me "Like what happened to Taylor." she said, connecting the dots. Walt nodded and continued on.

    "She used aliases for everyone involved, even the girl they were 'pranking' had one. She was distraught and kept saying she didn't know what to do, I just snapped at her and told her to confess. If it was the same girl, then I guess she simply decided to let it happen to save her own worthless skin."

    "Makes sense I guess…" was all I could say, I couldn't think straight.

    "Wait." Lily interjected "Walt you said that it was this girl and some friends, you also said that this girl was guilty right?"

    "Yes?" Walt crossed his arms over his chest, gently "Not guilty enough to confess it seems."

    "That's the thing. What if it wasn't that she didn't, but she couldn't?"

    I wasn't quite following her line of thought so I asked "What do you mean Lily?"

    "If her friends were psycho enough to shove someone into a glorified iron maiden, what if one of them found out that this mystery girl with a guilty conscience was going to snitch on all of them and they did something to her?

    Well, truth is stranger than fiction

    "Still…" Before Walt could finish his thought, a pair of Brockton Bay's Finest Fuckups rolled up

    "Walter Connolly?" One of them asked

    Walt nodded his head at the officer "There an issue officer?"

    "You're under arrest."

    I'm sorry

    "What!?" I was fucking pissed. "On what grounds?"

    "Assaulting his teacher." The cop replied

    I heard a bunch of footsteps behind me, Saoirse's voice crying out in shock. I was about to get in that fucking cop's fucking fuckup face, but Lily's arm across my chest stopped me. I looked down towards her and she shook her head at me. Walt could barely hide how pissed he was but somehow he managed to not take a swing at the cops trying to arrest him. Then he said something that I never expected to hear anyone say in this town;

    "I'll come quietly."

    Saoirse became a little frantic, Finn was trying to chew out the cops, taking down their badge numbers, Lily's mom was swearing up a storm in Japanese. Walt just offered up his wrists as the cops read him his rights.

    "Don't say a damn thing to 'em." I told him "We're getting you a lawyer!"

    I meant me when I said we. Even if Pops tried to stop me from using the family money I still had enough stashed away to get him a decent one. He just nodded and let the cops walk him into the hospital and off to a cage. Two people I've grown fond of, one is fighting for her life because of some psycho bitches and the other is being dragged off to be thrown in a cage. I was getting progressively angrier by the minute and I neeeded out.

    "I need to get some air." I told everyone, Lily tried stopping me from hitting the stairs but I guess the look on my face said it all. She let me go, her features looking as upset as me.

    I was trying desperately not to lash out at the wall or any of the staff I passed as I walked down to the first floor. Once I got there I walked out the front door, felt more like I was shambling then walking to be honest. I wandered around the outside, finding a free bench to sit on. Trying to sort through all the stormy emotions and thoughts buzzing around my dome while I stared at the ground. Eventually, a pair of running shoes on some track suit girl broke my train of thought.

    "You ok?" The voice that asked me that stupid question sounded utterly alien from such a harsh voice with a hint of bitch. I looked up to see the person I was about to yell at's face. Brown eyed black chick with long straight black hair. She had a look of concern that seemed faker than most of my smiles and more plastic than a Barbie. Like someone who had never shown concern to another person before and was trying to mimic it

    "Some people I know got put in the hospital." I wasn't fucking around and didn't bother hiding how pissed I was "One of them got hauled off by the cops just as he gets all patched up and the other is in surgery. How the fuck do you think I feel."

    "Oh." Was all she said, I think she told me her name too but I wasn't listening.

    I just tuned her out as she kept yapping and yapping away, eventually I snapped at her and said

    "Look I'm really not in the mood to talk right now and I won't be for a while, could you just leave me alone?"

    Tracksuit girl had this weird look on her face that I couldn't quite place

    "When would you be in the mood?"

    Something about that tone she had didn't sit right with me either, but I was too angry to notice at the time

    "When the psycho that put my friend in the ER gets whats coming to her."

    Even said sarcastically, I didn't like it. Still didn't' earn either of their friendship. It got quiet for a bit, tracksuit girl just stood there for about a minute.

    Then she broke that silence with a very cheerful and very creepy "OK!"

    The way she said it, just left me feeling nothing but dread.

    Nearly three weeks of me hitting my head against the wall lead me to this. I sincerely apologise for the delay, Donnie is extremely difficult to write in the first person and difficult to get into the headspace of. Please tell me how this turned out and point out my mistakes I typed this up in states not favorable for coherence and I am just about to pass out writing this note. Have a good one.
     
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    • Sidestory: Super X-Mas Funtime Now!
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    • Twas the night before Christmas, in good old Oh-One
    Not a creature was stirring, OK maybe more than none!
    Stockings hung by chimneys and entertainment centers with care
    Not knowing that this year, St. Nicholas soon would be there;

    Five kids in particular all out of their beds,
    All but one with thoughts of meeting Santa filling their heads
    Two in Owl Creek and three in Brockton Bay
    All five up and keeping that Sandman away

    Soon that night all five would hear
    The sound of eight thunderous hooves drawing near…
    ​

    Taylor Hebert knew that she shouldn't be hiding in her living room under a massive blanket pile, but this year she knew she had a higher chance of finally seeing Santa deliver presents. She didn't know why of course, she just knew. Her parents had gone off to bed a bit earlier than usual and she was able to sneak downstairs with all of her extra blankets without making too much noise. She didn't have to wait long, sleigh-bells and beating hooves came and raised her spirits, giving her the widest grin of her life so far!

    A shower of lights shaped like snowflakes emanated from somewhere above her and poured into the shape of a very tall man. With a swift shine, the light faded and was replaced with a man in a red coat and a large hat with a large red sack slung over his shoulder, from her hiding spot she could see the edges of his face and a bit of the large white beard. Taylor watched silently with wide eyes filled with wonder, trying not to make any noise as the man quietly and pulled present after present from his sack placing them with care underneath the heavily decorated Christmas tree her and her family worked so hard on. Taylor thought it was strange that Santa didn't have the floppy hat with the puffball on the end of it, or wasn't all that overweight but she simply chocked up the latter up to him cutting back on sweets and the former on the off chance that maybe he had more than one hat.

    Soon the man finished up, rose to his feet, polished off the plate of cookies and milk that Taylor had left out for him. As the man turned around Taylor let out a small gasp finally catching a good look at the man's face, especially the lone visible eye that turned down to gaze at her hiding spot. The man smiled warmly and held up a finger to his lips as he dissipated into that strange light he had arrived in.

    The only thing that Taylor could say was a whispered out

    "Wow…"


    Four year old Lily Vargas waited until her family turned in for the night, being as quiet as possible. She had heard the sleigh-bells and the sound of hooves landing on her house's roof, and she knew that it was Santa. Slowly and sneakily like the ninja that Jiji would tell her stories about, despite how young she was she had memorized every creaky floorboard and step in the house, precisely for this moment.

    Inch by inch, she crept down the hall then down the steps. Her home had a proper chimney and it had stockings hanging (all of them hand sewn by her Nana) and instead of a proper pine, there was a bonsai that her mother had managed to grow to an above average size (which took quite a bit of diligence and perseverance) on a table acting as their Christmas tree, presents put around the pot of the bonsai and some of the larger wrapped gifts were under it. All was as it were when Lily was sent off to bed…

    Well, except for the tall man in a red coat with fluffy white trim of course. From her place behind the living room couch, Lily smiled as she took in the man's presence. The man was pulling festively wrapped boxes out of a large red sack and placing them all around and under the tree, humming a Christmas song to himself.

    An even larger smile spread across Lily's face as she crawled around the side of the couch, trying to get a better look at the man. She saw that his face was pale with rosy cheeks, he had a large and magnificent white beard, and on his head was a broad red hat cocked in a way that obscured his left eye. Lily knew deep in her heart who this man was, what child who knew of Christmas didn't? Much to Lily's confusion he was not fat, but it did make more sense for him to be skinnier if he had to slide down chimneys all night.

    Still calling on the sneakiness of the ninja, she crept closer to the man and knelt beside him, his attention on the gifts he was leaving behind and unaware of the little tyke by his side.

    "Hello Santa." Lily quietly said.

    The man froze in place, slowly turning his head to face her.

    "Hello, Lily." The man slowly and somewhat sheepishly said in a voice deeper than the ocean "You should not be up so late, young lady."

    Lily simply smiled, pointed up to the ceiling, and said "I heard your reindeer and sleigh bells."

    The man rose to his full height, to Lily it was as if the roof had to suck in its gut to give the man space. The man in red let out a sigh and smiled at her.

    "Most people, even the good children of the World, cannot hear them." the mans voice seemed to boom even with how quietly he spoke "To be able to hear them…"

    Lily tilted her head in confusion, not quite understanding what the man meant. The man looked down at her with a wide and joyful grin.

    "Neither here nor there…" The man said, reaching into his sack full of gifts and pulling out a wide rectangular box "…I believe you had written about this in your letter?"

    Lily's eyes went wide and she gasped in excitement "Is that?"

    "You'll have to wait until your parents wake and you open all your gifts." The man chuckled and placed the box under the manicured tree. "Moments like this are best shared with family after all."

    Lily nodded her head and smiled as the man closed the drawstring of his sack and slung it over his shoulder. She ran to the man and gave him a quick hug before swiftly and quietly returning to her room. As she crept back up the stairs, she heard the bells and hooves atop the roof as they kicked off into the night, followed by the man's booming laugh.

    Lily did as she was told and snuggled herself off back to bed and slept, knowing that the morning would bring nothing but joy.


    In all of Donald Rhodes III's six years of life, never had he been more excited for Christmas. His father took him along on his business trip, his mother was able to visit for a short while, and they both told him the true story of Santa Claus. His father had let him stay up along with him by the fireplace of the penthouse hotel room they were staying in, just so they could meet the man in person. Donnie's father had poured out two tall glasses of eggnog and he had put on an old Frank Sinatra Christmas record for the both of them to relax to as they sat on, what Donnie thought of, as the world's most comfortable couch waiting for their future guest.

    "Pops?" Donnie asked "How will Santa know to come here? We don't actually live here."

    Donnie's father gave him a smile and a shrug of his shoulders "No clue son. I never thought to ask."

    Despite the unsatisfying answer, Donnie did not pout or whine. That way lead to the naughty list and he didn't want to take his chances so close to the Big Man's arrival. He simply took another sip of the delicious eggnog and figured he'd just ask the man himself when he arrived. He wouldn't have to wait much longer; soon he heard the chiming bells of a sleigh, thunderous hooves, and then saw a shower of strange light shaped like snowflakes pouring out past the lit fireplace forming into a tall man with a big white beard in a big red coat.

    "YOU CAME!" Donnie shouted in excitement, almost spilling his eggnog as he shot to his feet.

    The man in question raised a single brow from his uncovered eye, a small smile forming as he looked to Donnie's father raising a toast to him. The man chuckled softly and tipped the brim of his wide hat in reply. Donnie zipped forward and excitedly circled the man, almost as if he was taking stock of him as he shotgunned out words a mile a minute

    "Pops told me all about you and how your story got started, how the elves really are, about your sleigh, everything! He even let me stay up to meet you!"

    The man just chuckled and gave a warm smile to the boy, he then turned his gaze to Donnie's father and said "So you told him all about me, eh?"

    Donnie's father took a sip of his eggnog and replied "He needed some cheering up this year."

    The man shook his head and pulled out a long wrapped box from his sack, and handed it to Donnie

    "Now make sure he does not open it till at least after midnight Mr. Rhodes." the man said sternly with a pointed finger that opened into a wave goodbye and a short bow of his head "Until next year Mr. Rhodes, young Mr. Rhodes."

    With that, the man became a shower of light and rose up out of the chimney with Donnie waving goodbye.


    Owl Creek, Wyoming. "The Ass-End of Nowhere, of the Ass-End of Nowhere." as the rather bitter Grandfather of one Walter Connolly referred to it.

    While the Connolly ranch was in no way festive in any capacity there was still a lone pine in the living room right by the fireplace, albeit a bare one. There were no decorations, no presents, and it was there only for the sake of tradition that there even was a tree. Roused from his sleep by a fit of restlessness was a lone boy of five, Walter Connolly. He had come out of his room to come into the kitchen for a glass of milk and maybe a sandwich, knowing that if he had asked his Grandfather he would most likely get a stern talking to and then have to serve a glass of milk and make a sandwich for him while being sent back to bed with nothing for the trouble. The sound of sleigh-bells and hooves beating along the ground as something large touched down on the roof of his home broke his silent concentration. With that, Walt swiftly and silently made his way to a special cabinet in this wing of the Connolly home. His Grandfather forbid him from using all but one item within it, a fully charged cattle prod.

    Walt put on the pair of insulated work gloves then he held the prod as if he were presenting arms in formation. He quickly took position in a small nook that would be an optimum ambush position for any intruder. As he waited, he saw a small shimmer of light around the corner, near the fireplace. He heard a man sighing and something heavy hitting the floor. Walt crept closer with his cattle prod primed and ready. He took in the intruder as he came closer; all dressed in red and with a large hat and a big white beard. Walt crept close enough to be able to swiftly jab the intruder with enough volts to drop any man alive within seconds.

    Walt steeled himself and did his best impression of his Grandfather in a staredown "You got a lot of nerve breaking into my home, friend."

    The intruder merely let out a sigh and kept rifling through his sack.

    "And you are up far later than you should be, Mr. Connolly." the man said with a voice full of stern resignation "Then again, I recall your father did something similar when he was your age. Although he had a loaded gun on me rather than a cattle prod."

    Walt tried not to react to the strange intruder's words, but curiosity got the better of him.

    "You knew my father?" he asked, his voice betraying a hint of longing and no longer holding the aped edge of his Grandfather

    "Of course." The man simply stated, reaching deeper into the sack

    Walt shook his head and regained his composure "You need to leave before I stick you." he said without bite.

    The man shook his head, and merely muttered "Finally…" as he pulled out a box from the sack. The man left the box underneath the pine tree by that bare fireplace and turned his head a bit towards his tiny captor.

    "I believe you wrote a letter asking for this?"

    Walt began trembling, whether in fear or anticipation he didn't know. "I didn't write you any letter, creep." he said, voice quaking a bit

    "You did not write a letter to Santa Claus at school? The first letter you had ever written to him? After telling your teacher that he was not real?" the man asked

    Walt wondered how he could possibly have even known that but decided to humor him.

    "She said if I didn't do the assignment I would have to tell Grandfather that I was being defiant in class." Walt left out the fear of what new and unusual chore he would have to do alone if that were to have come to pass

    "So you wrote a letter saying how you did not believe in Santa Claus and asked for something that you felt was impossible."

    The man gestured to the wrapped package with his hand before rising to his feet.

    "I would not take offense to you opening it prior to midnight, Walter." the man said with a nod of his head. "Merry Christmas."

    With that, the man became a shower of lights shaped like snowflakes and flew up the chimney leaving Walt alone with his cattle prod and that lone package under the skirt of pine needles. As he stood there staring at the package, he heard those bells and hooves once again as they soared off into the night sky. Walt did his best to ignore the strange and fantastical sight before him and merely stared at the spot the man once stood. Soon after Walt steeled himself and placed the cattle prod and gloves back into the very special cabinet at their proper place next to Grandfather's brush rifle, then took that wrapped package back to his room. He would sit in his bed and contemplate weather or not he should open it for another hour…


    The Cheyenne Indian Reservation near Owl Creek, Wyoming was not the first place someone thought of when it came to Christmas cheer. The majority of the population not being any form of Catholic or Chrisitan would do that, however this did not stop the people of the Cheyenne nation celebrating it their own way. Many still did a gift exchange, some put up Christmas trees with their own style of festive kitsch to decorate it, and many more gathered with their kin if only for an excuse to have a feast and make merry. Even if it did not look it, the Rez as the youth of the place called it held the feeling of seasonal cheer.

    Well, all but one house that is.

    It was the home of the Standing-Bear family. A Husband, a Wife, and a Thing.

    The Husband was the head of the Cheyenne Tribal Council and a pillar of the community, or so he thought himself. He was not asleep at home with his family this night, he was off somewhere else with a bottle of gin. The Wife was an activist and a proud champion for her people, or so she thought herself. She was not tucked in bed sound asleep, she was away in her office fruitlessly trying to bury herself in all the work she had already completed hours ago.

    The Pale Thing was an abomination, a stain on her family, and not in any way Cheyenne. Or so they told her. She stayed up alone with her blanket wrapped as tightly around herself trying to fight off the Wyoming winter chill. Her hands clenched tightly together, as she silently prayed that the letter she had sent would be answered tonight. She had given it to her Gramma in hopes that she could deliver it for her, her Gramma being the only person to ever show her any form of love or warmth. Still, she was worried her Father was right and that Santa didn't deliver presents to Pale Things no matter how nice they acted. Gramma told her that her Father was wrong and that she had a name. Her Father just scowled and went off to find more of his precious fire-water.

    Soon those prayers were answered by the sound of sleigh-bells and thunderous hooves stopping above her cold and dark home. Her Parents had no tree, but Gramma said that she didn't need one to get presents. She saw a shower of lights shaped like snowflakes pouring in from the ceiling vent coalesce into a man with a big white beard in a big red coat. The man had a warm smile and a big hat cocked in a way that covered his left eye. In his hand was a shiny wrapped present, with a bow and everything!

    The man left it on her bed with a smile and a tip of his hat.

    "Merry Christmas, Winonah" was all he said before he flew back up the vent as that shower of light

    A big smile found itself on her face as she picked up the box and quickly stuffed it in her bag, she would open it next to her Gramma when she went to visit her tomorrow. With a heart full of joy and a smile on her face, Winonah Standing-Bear drifted off to sleep.


    These five children would never have known the Fates in store for them in the future, especially not on that Christmas morning but the gifts they received they would cherish always.

    Taylor would get a book about heroes both mythical and mundane throughout the ages, which her mother would help her read every night after till she was ten. Filling her thoughts with tales of heroism and adventure.

    Lily would find a DVD box set of Kamen Rider Kuuga, a show that would not find an official release for another half decade outside of low quality VHS bootlegs. Her parents, though surprised, eagerly watched the first two episodes right then and there, kicking off a love of tokusatsu and sowing the seeds of a dream of being able to inspire others the way that show did.

    Donnie opened up that gift alongside his father to find an Ibanez Les Paul within. A guitar that even with the wealth and resources of his family they could not quite get for whatever reason. Just like Adams once did, Donnie would practice till his fingers bled and would find a deep passion for music. A few days later he would find McCullough's Music Shoppe and Instrument Repair picking up a case for his new guitar. Years later when he would settle down in Brockton Bay, it would be his favorite place in the world.

    Walt eventually opened that box, finding a matte black cattleman hat that was too large for him. He would grow into it several years later, but it did not stop him from wearing it all the while. He would wear it every chance he could since.

    Winonah Standing-Bear opened it while sitting by her Gramma's side. Within it was the necessary paperwork her Gramma would need to file to formally adopt her. Soon after the court proceedings were dealt with, and Winonah walked with her head held high for once. To celebrate, her Gramma took her to see a friend of hers and to ride his horses while her Gramma played a game of her own with the man. This would be the day that she would meet one Walter Connolly and a friendship formed from him teaching her how to ride.

    Meanwhile, from his throne in Asgard, Odin smiled and knew that these five would achieve great things…

    Yeah, I had some free time in all the chaos and I managed to whip up this here Christmas special for you guys as my gift to you. Just something to bring some Christmas cheer by having Odin as Santa give people gifts...
    Taylor's gift was a pain in the ass to come up with, but I figured this could serve a good origin for why she wanted to be a hero so badly and why she admired heroes so much.
    Lily's family using a bonsai as a replacement christmas tree was inspired by my recollection of a Rugrats All Growed Up episode (I think it involved the kids moving the Finster's tree over to a classmates house who had some trouble getting things for Christmas, it was a long ass time ago I just thought the image of a bonsai as a Christmas tree was nice. Also bonsai can get pretty damn big if the person taking care of it puts an insane amount of TLC into it
    Donnie getting an Ibanez Les Paul was originally supposed to be him getting a signed copy of Carlos Santana's first album on vinyl but I don't think it'd have as much impact, I remember hearing a story about these lawsuit era Les Paul copies done by Ibanez being a huge hit. Why richer than most gods Adonis Rhodos not being able to find one is a thing? Maybe on Earth Aleph most of them were destroyed after the lawsuit?
    Walt's section was mostly to flesh out a bit of his home life and tell a short story about how he got his hat.
    This is the first time we ever see Winonah and it won't be the last. Yes she is the last member of the band, she will show up in two chapters.
     
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    • "When's the Next Update?" & Some Homebrew
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    • First off, I would like to wish everybody here a very Happy New Year! We did it guys, it's 2021! We should probably check on those dudes down in the Sealab.

    I kid.

    In all seriousness, I'm posting this here to let you all know the progress of the story and what's affecting it.

    After putting it off for almost a decade I am finally taking my driver's test on the 15th of January, which means all my spare time will be me practicing for it and 2.4 won't be dropping until after I get my driver's license. That isn't to say I'm halting work on Band entirely; I've been taking the time to actually think ahead and on what will happen, who will throw spanners in the works of all the wannabe Legion of Doom and Bond Villains out there and why. Intrigue to hook Parahuman against Scion or Denizen, Parahumans actually getting off the back foot, and plots that would effect the both of them.

    I mean it also gives me time to peep the new books Onyx Path are putting out between now and then if they drop any.

    In the meantime, have some Homebrew;

    Zagreus from Hades, both versions of Kratos from God of War, and best doG Ammy.

    Theoi

    Zagreus, God of Blood.
    Callings: Liminal, Warrior, Trickster
    Purviews: Death, Epic Dexterity, Epic Stamina, Epic Strength, Journeys, Health (Blood)

    Kratos, The Ghost of Sparda
    God of War 1-3 (Plus Spinoffs)
    Callings: Warrior, Destroyer, Hunter
    Purviews: Chaos, Epic Strength, Epic Stamina, Fire, Passion (Rage), War

    God of War 4/Dad of Boy
    Callings: Warrior, Guardian, Hunter
    Purviews: Epic Strength, Epic Stamina, Fire, Frost, Journeys, Passion (Rage), War

    Kami

    Okami Amaterasu
    Callings: Guardian, Warrior, Trickster
    Purviews: Artistry (Painting), Beasts (Wolf), Epic Dexterity, Fertility, Journeys, Prosperity, Sun
     
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    • Lily

    01/11/11
    ​
    I was in a tatami room, sitting in seiza for god knows how long. The shouji were slid open, giving me an unobstructed view of the palace's grand gardens and the river of starlight that ran through it. While the garden itself was cultivated and planned, it was all done so around the river rather than the river being landscaping. Despite being able to see the countless stars of the night sky, the palace and the garden were illuminated by some strange light as if the sun were shining. Despite knowing that I have never been anywhere this beautiful in my life, it feels as though I have.

    The sight is literally breathtaking, my hand goes up to my mouth trying to stifle the gasp but the sight of silken sleeves makes it come out. I look down at myself; I was wearing some fancy kimono with lots of layers. I remember Baa-chan calling it jūnihitoe, twelve layers, and nobody wore it outside of plays about the Heian period or local culture festivals. The key difference between the ones I've seen in museums and the one I was wearing was its color pattern; while most kimono in this style tend to have multiple colors with fairly simple patterns, the dress I was wearing only had two colors, white and red, and the top layer had an extremely intricate sunbeam pattern on it. As I looked at the dress I spotted a woman only slightly taller than me in similar clothes next to me, also in seiza.

    Unlike me, the woman seemed almost comfortable in the position as if she was doing this her whole life. Given the fact that we were sitting somewhere out of an ukiyo-e print and she was wearing just as fancy a dress I was, it was a pretty safe assumption. She had a face that could easily make most dolled up cover girls weep in envy and hair as black as night that flowed almost all the way down to the floor. She didn't wear a crown, but I knew this woman was royalty. Somehow. The woman was smiling, it was the kind of smile you put on when you're trying to show people you're trying to reassure people that things are OK. Her eyes told another story, it felt like there was nothing but sorrow and regret there.

    "Excuse me, miss?" I said, trying to get her attention. "Are you ok?"

    The woman looked me in the eye, her smile growing a bit wider but her eyes still filled with regret.

    "I will be." was all she said, turning her gaze back out to the garden and holding out her left hand towards it.

    I turned to see what she was waiting for; glowing green light hopping from flower to flower towards us from far off towards the edge of the garden. With speed and grace, it landed on the woman's open hand. I leaned towards the woman and that strange green light, and I was able to make out the silhouette of a small boy inside it. Yeah that really sounds famililar. Granted, I couldn't for the life of me say why. As I stared somewhat dumbfounded at the boy in the light, he pulled out a really fancy looking mallet from somewhere that was twice his size. Before I could even react, the boy stumbled and then that mallet decided to become rather intimate with my face!


    When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in that garden, there was no woman or tiny boy wreathed in green light, and I wasn't wearing some old flashy kimono. I was back in my bedroom. Wearing sweats and a tank-top as pajamas and keeping my toes warm with the fluffiest pair of socks I owned. I sat up slowly, not really phased by a dream like that since I've had this dream before. This was the first time there was somebody else in the dream, though. The alarm clock on my nightstand read 1:11 AM, normally I'd just try and go back to sleep with how early it was in the nightmorning but between what happened yesterday and that weird dream I just couldn't help but be awake.

    My family was rather fortunate, my parents owning a successful business in a city with a dying economy and a sky high crime rate without incident meant they could afford one of the safer and nicer neighborhoods towards the edge of the city proper. Just outside the original suburb neighborhoods near the docks, with larger houses with the same amount of bedrooms perfect for smack dab in the middle of the middle class families all from a time just before cookie-cutter homes made of crummy materials were the norm. Naturally this means the bedrooms were kinda big, even mine, of course you wouldn't really think that if you saw it. My room was cluttered with cardboard boxes filled with props I've made, merch I've bought online, and then the desk that was the throne for my fairly beast computer set up. My walls were plastered with posters; Ultraman, Kamen Rider, Super Sentai, Metal Heroes, Gojira and a hell of a lot more covered about 90% of my wall. There were so many posters and so much clutter that I couldn't even see the paint of the wall, pretty sure it was, like, light pink or something.

    Yeah, I'm kind of a toku nerd. There's not many toku fans in the world my age though, capes coming along kind of sucked the audience away from that, then the Endbringers put the final nails in the coffin. Everything from after the 80's was an Aleph import. Luckily I found a few good deals on Ebisu-Bay for big boxes of old ad posters that they printed too many of or just never got around to putting up. All for the low-low price of 376.95 USD.

    So expensively cheap…

    Still, no amount of reminiscing on my vast collection of geekery could really make me shake off how low I felt. Taylor was still in the hospital, she had barely gotten out of surgery and the doctors were already saying she was in a coma or something and that there was a chance she wasn't going to wake up. All of that, hearing about how they found her, seeing Walt getting dragged off in handcuffs, all of it painted a pretty dire picture. I mean, I know I've only known Taylor and Walt for about a week and all but I felt like we had a thing going, a possibly maybe becoming friends thing. I don't really have any to be honest. I've never really been any good at making friends, I mean I'm on good terms with a lot of my classmates but I don't hang out with any of them, and no matter how I tried it just never really got anywhere beyond a cordial acquaintance-ship. Then I met Taylor, and I felt like it was the start of a real genuine friendship. I mean, it sounds really sappy when I put it in to words but I mean it. Even with Walt and Donnie it felt like, despite my god-nephew's prickliness and Donnie's Donnie-ness, that things were going along the same way with them.

    There had to be something I could do! Sitting around moping was going to get me nowhere. I reached over and grabbed the foam helmet off my nightstand. It was a costume piece I made for this Kuuga fan film I was working on, it started off as a thing I did for a school project but I just kept working on it more after I turned in the stuff I needed for the assignment.

    "What do I do?" I asked the helmet, not really expecting an answer.

    "You could start by not mopin' 'round there, kid!" and yet I got one, in perfect Japanese no less!

    I looked back down at the helmet, my eyes blinking three times in surprise, and slowly said

    "Kuuga?"

    "Down 'ere!"

    I angled the mask out of my vision, seeing a small green light on my nigthstand. A green light with the silhouette of a boy waving at me. It was at that point I knew that it was time to go back to bed, so I scooted back in bed, lied back down, and closed my eyes.

    "No more weird dreams tonight…" was my vocalized hope that this was the part of the dream I would show up to class with none of my assignments done and unable to be going to a nebulous prom with a nebulous dream boy.

    I heard a small twing sound and felt a light tap on my chest, knowing full well what that mean I tried to to cocoon myself into maximum comfort even further but couldn't quite get there as I did not have that many pillows or layers of blanket. Then came the light tap slap tap on my cheek.

    "Now, now, now!" the green glowy boy said, I think he was from Kansai cause he had the accent going "Destiny's a knockin' and it's got a batterin' ram!"

    I shot up as hard as I could, launching the boy in the light across my bed. He was pretty nimble, tumbling through the air like some kind of super circuis flea, and landed on one of my bedposts in a handstand. He front flipped back to his feet and gave a tiny bow.

    I let out a very heavy sigh before asking "Why is there a tiny glowing green cape in my house?"

    "I ain't no Starborn, kid!" he said from his perch "Just blessedly tiny!"

    I had to ask "Starborn?"

    "Our word for Parahuman-" He said with a dismissing wave "-it'll make sense later."

    Rather than try and ask him to elaborate I just cut to the chase;

    "OK then, why is a blessedly tiny glowing green guy in my house?"

    "Now I do believe I just said that 'destiny is a knockin' and somethin' 'bout a batterin' ram?" Glowy Boy hopped right where my knees were. "It's time for you to claim your Birthright."

    I rolled my eyes at him and poked him in his gut, he caught hold of my finger as it came in

    "Listen, Glowy Boy. I don't know your name and what the hell do you mean Birthright?"

    Glowy boy harrumphed and took a step back

    "I ain't a boy, I'm a man! I am the great Issun-Boshi!" he said triumphantly, doing a very flamboyant and bombastic mie pose before pointing at me. "Vargas Lily, you are far more than what you seem and your Birthright is the key to realizing it!"

    Ah, that solves that mystery. Glowy Boy here is a fairy tale character. I don't know if it was the desire to be able to help Walt and Taylor in some way, but something in my gut was telling me that he was legit and that I could trust him. Not to mention, it kinda felt like I've. Now I know that sounds concerning, what with there being mind controlling capes out there, but this wasn't sudden and in your face. This was like a mental version of muscle memory, that'd be the best way to put in words. Like a memory that you forgot you had until you see something that jogs it. In this case, the feeling I got from this was an "Oh you…" kind of feeling. Like interacting with a moron that grew on you.

    "OK." I said, deciding to take the plunge and see where this rabbit hole takes me "So where is this Birthright, Issun-Baka?"

    Issun just laughed and hopped up to my windowsill, cocking his head outside. "Get dressed and grab your bike, it's at an old friend's place here in town."

    Again, red flags to most. Not to me. Still don't know why, or why I know this isn't some weird Master shit going on. Besides, I do Kyokushin and I'm a beast, short of running into a Cape or dudes with guns I'm pretty sure I can whup anyone's ass. So I threw on some track pants over my sweats, put on my lucky RX shirt, and my parka. Issun decided to hop into my parka hood for the ride. Now, rather than hopping two stories down and leaving my window open, I did the far more difficult but not impossible thing of sneaking through the hallway, down the stairs then straight shot through the garage and out the side door. Despite the fact that my parents are heavy sleepers, I didn't push my luck and made sure to avoid the creaky floorboards and steps. If this were a movie, I'd whip off the tarp over my bike and amaze my tiny partner with my bike all dramatically. Sadly this isn't a movie and my bike was just out and about leaning up against the sound equipment my dad rents out to people in one of his side hustles.

    "Nice ride." Issun said, admiring the paint job.

    I had put in quite a bit of work on my bike; toppest of the line in affordable parts, after market additions such as a pair of headlights with synced tail light, a custom made windshield, a moped conversion with a few tweaks from a gearhead friend of the family, and of course a custom paint job, all done to be evocative of the New Cyclone from the original Kamen Rider! I call it; Chibi Cyclone! It took me two years and almost all of my allowance but hot damn was it worth it! I would have had it in six months, but there was merch to be bought.

    So expensively cheap…

    I made sure not to knock anything over, ding my dad's Chrysler, or disturb the recyclables as I went out the side door. I also triple checked to make sure I locked the door and I did not start the engine until I was way out of earshot of the house. From there, I went full throttle into the city while Issun called directions leading us into the heart of Asia-Town. Dumb name, I know, but it used to be Chinatown way back when, Koreans fleeing Japanese occupation came in, then the Hmong Diaspora happened, and then Leviathan happened and a bunch of Japanese refugees came in. Contrary to popular belief Asians don't really get along with each other and for good reason, so every one of those groups kinda segregated themselves into their own little corner of this part of town, each with their own cute little nicknames. So for shorthand they just call it Asia-Town. Which meant I knew exactly where we were going now; Little Fukuoka. This is where all those Japanese refugees came in post Kyushu sinking, or at least the ones that made it all the way to the east coast. Of course, that was then and this is now. I can gun it for hours there without seeing another person, not even homeless people. Barely anybody lives here or works here anymore, most of the buildings are for sale or lease, and all of those are boarded up. Now in this town, you'd think it was because of some cape based tragedy or freak accident. You'd be pleasantly surprised.

    See what a lot of people don't really notice about Japan's economy is that it has one of the strongest domestic markets ever; comparatively very little import, but a lot of export. Yes the export market almost completely died after Leviathan, but what grew was the domestic market and Japan's economic self sufficiency and self reliance. There was a massive push in PSAs, policy, local movements, etc, to get Japan back on its feet. This social push, a few breakthroughs in non tinkertech robotics, medicine, energy production, things like that, led to a rekindled sense of Yamato-Gokoro. More people got married, the birthrate that was nosediving skyrocketed back to stability, the economy was better than it was during The Bubble. Loads of economists and politicians got spooked, thinking it was gonna be a second Bubble but its plateaued and became stable. Then people started heading back home, towns and ghettos like Little Fukuoka dried up and became ghost towns within weeks. All of that within the span of a decade. Some people thought it was the work of Thinkers and Tinkers behind the scenes, others thought it was going to attract another Endbringer attack in retaliation for their hubris. Well, ten years, no Endbringer or bump and dump crash into a super depression later says otherwise. My parents and I visit my mom's side of the family every year to visit around Christmas time.

    Of course that still does not explain why the ABB haven't moved in, why the Empire haven't burned it down, or why the Merchants haven't tried to make this place dirty and busted on top of empty. Maybe people think it's cursed?

    Eventually, Issun finally said "We're here."

    Issun's directions led me down some alleyways and eventually into what looked like the entrance to some kind of shared back lot hidden by some more boarded up businesses. Somehow I knew that if I left my bike unattended here, it'd still be there when I got back, so I just put the kickstand up and left it by the gate. When I opened the gate I was greeted by a sight I never thought possible in Brockton Bay; a full size Shinto shrine and well cared for. The fence and the rooftops of the buildings around me had hidden the torii gates, and I doubt anybody who didn't already come to the place really would know to look here. A hidden shrine in Brockton Bay, crazy.

    Issun hopped out of my hoodie and bounced around until he landed on a stone lamp by the torii, taking the moment to bow towards it.

    "Do you remember what to do here, kiddo?"

    I just nodded yes and bowed. Issun bounded forward and I followed at a walk, making sure to walk along the left side of the stone path in front of me. As I stepped through the torii's archway, things changed. The air became crisper, the sky became clearer, and a strange and familiar sensation that I could not for the life of me describe washed over me. I made my way to the chozuya and used the ladle, gathering the water from the water flowing down into the basin and not the basin itself, to rinse my hands, mouth, spitting the water down at my feet, and then letting the remaining water drip down the handle. I made my way to the offering box, bowed, and dropped in a five yen coin I had left from my last trip to Japan. As I walked up to the main building, the haiden, I wondered who maintained the grounds and if there were actual miko and shinshoku that ran the shrine, I also was curious to who was enshrined here. When I got to the steps of the haiden, I rung the shrine bell, feeling the sound travel to the edges of the grounds and back. I looked around in shock, looking at Issun who paid it no mind and was in the middle of his own run of the ritual. I bowed as deep as I could twice, put my hand in prayer position, clapped twice, then uttered a silent prayer for Taylor's recovery and bowed one last time longer than the last. As soon as I rose back to standing, the doors of the haiden slowly opened on their own, showing a gentle light coming from inside along with incense filling the air.

    "That's our cue." Issun said as he hopped inside.

    When I walked inside and took off my shoes, that odd familiar feeling just grew. I followed Issun into a gathering hall, sitting on a cushion was a very beautiful Japanese woman in the prettiest kimono I had ever seen. As soon as she saw me, she broke out into a very excited smile, waved and then got up with her arms out wide. Before I could react I was being smothered by her rather large…

    …tracts of land.

    "It's been so long! You're so tiny now!" She shouted as I struggled for air "I'm so glad you're here, you have to tell me everything you've been up to!"

    I managed to break free and my lungs once again knew the sweet taste of air

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said, frantically waving my arms between me and her "Lady, I have no clue who you are and you're supposed to at least say your name before you start acting like you know somebody!"

    The woman giggled and sat back down on her cushion and motioned me to do the same. "We actually have already met before."

    The woman clapped and someone dressed up as a kuroko came by with a jar of sake and three bowls to pour it in. The kuroko poured the steaming sake into all three bowls then left.

    "You want some?" the woman offered as Issun rifled through his robes for something.

    "No thanks, I'm kinda straight edge on account of being underage. What do you mean we met before?"

    The woman loosened up her kimono a bit then downed her sake out of the bowl, some of it spilling out of the bowl and down her neck into her…

    …tracts of land

    The woman sighed wistfully then gave me a look that I couldn't help but feel nostalgia for.

    "I was a part of that massive rager we threw all those years ago when you were in that sulking session of yours, danced a merry jig?"

    I wanted to say that I had no idea, but something came to me. Something that stopped those words from leaving my lips. Then a name found its way in my head, this woman's name. I couldn't stop myself from whispering it "Uzume-chan…"

    This woman, was the goddess Ame-No-Uzume. The Kami of Revelry. A million thoughts danced around my head, a million memories that didn't make sense. As I tried to make sense of it all, Uzume clapped and smiled widely, eyes dancing with excitement.

    "You're remembering!" She squealed. "I figured you would when you came here!"

    I looked over to Issun, sipping from the sake bowl through a coffee stirrer and paying no mind to the excited goddess.

    "What the hell is going on?" I said slowly, hoping he would answer me.

    Issun stopped sipping sake and stifled a belch. "I'm gonna cut the suspense; you're a goddess Lily."

    "I-I'm a what?" was all I could say, Uzume whistled a familiar tune. I didn't appreciate the joke so I glared at her, like I did when she was distracting court. Another memory I shouldn't have.

    Uzume just chuckled and pointed at me "That's the look! It's good to see you again Amaterasu-chan!"

    My old name. From before. My true name.

    "I'm not a goddess, and I'm not Amaterasu." I tried to deny it, but I knew it was true. "I'm just Lily Vargas, regular American girl."

    Uzume just scooted over to me and poked me where my heart should be. "You. Are. Amaterasu. Reborn." every word punctuated by poke.

    Issun decided now was the time to chime in.

    "It was kind of a pain in the rear finding you, kid" he said after another sip

    Uzume continued as Issun drank fully from his sake bowl.

    "I'm not surprised that you didn't tell everybody in Takamagahara that you were going to do this, I was surprised when I found out that Susano-oo and Kuromizuhime were the ones you did tell."

    No sudden surge of memory came with that little revelation. I had to ask.

    "What do you mean?"

    Uzume leaned back, taking a swig of sake straight out of the jar before responding.

    "Well, one day you just locked yourself into your chambers and didn't talk to anybody. Was quite a long while before you had a servant girl bring that brother of yours and his firstborn over to speak with you in person. None of us knew what you said to them, only thing we got out of that was when Susan-oo gave the court a letter you wrote saying that you'd be indisposed until further notice. We asked them what happened in there and all that idiot brother of yours said was 'oh just talking about the weather' like he was being honest, and his kid just left saying that you had given her your blessing to go off and marry that Greek paramour of hers. Some time later we checked your room, door was unlocked, and there we find your body fading. We cornered your brother and he fessed up; you decided to sever yourself from your Mantle of Divinity and be reborn as a mortal."

    Uzume pointed at me and said "an American hafu named Lily Vargas."
    I didn't deny it, or lie, or try to delude myself. I knew deep in my heart she was telling the truth. No use running from it. I just let out a sigh and asked "So what happens now?"

    Uzume just smiled and said "Well now it's time for a belated birthday gift."

    Once again, Uzume clapped and this time two kuroko appeared form a hallway carrying an antique lacquerware box, bigger than the ones I've seen. Issun and Uzume urged me to open it. When I did, I was greeted by two very familiar things and one new thing.

    A compact mirror, a jade magatama with a beautiful inro to carry it in, and a brass belt buckle with an embossed japanese rising sun. I could feel the power inside those relics as I touched them. The magatama was carved and polished jade, gifted to me as a mark of my authority to lead the Kami, was the Yasakani no Magatama.. The compact mirror was made from a shard of the Yata no Kagami; one day it was destroyed to expel a great evil that was corrupting it. The mirror was restored by a kintsukuroi master but he forgot one of the shards mid restoration, leaving a somewhat large section of the mirror filled in with gold dust lacquer and the remaining piece being fitted into the compact in front of me tonight. Though the craftsman didn't intend for it, the mirror would be a reminder of my failings. Failings that I don't remember the details of, but know were my own fault and really bad. Regardless, I treasured the mirror's restored form then and I will treasure it now and forever. Two thirds of the Imperial Regalia, the old memories and feelings made me shed a single tear.

    "You alright kid?" Issun asked me, I didn't notice when he hopped up onto the box.

    "Yeah." I told him "Mirror just brought out old memories, I guess."

    I put the compact in my pocket and did the same with the magatama after putting it inside the inro. I held up the belt buckle, not recognizing it at all.

    "Whats the deal with this one?" I asked Uzume.

    "Well, after we found you down here we had this one made with your curent sensibilities in mind." she said with a friendly grin

    "Put it on and do your best Takeshi Hongo impression!" Issun told me, bringing a smile to my face.

    I put the belt buckle up to my waistband, feeling a sense power rush through me and feeling a belt materialize around me. Then, I started the pose; Throw your right arm at diagonally to the right, then rotate it clockwise until it's diagonal to your left, retract it to your waist, thrust out your left arm at a diagonal to your right, then shout;

    "Henshin!"

    I felt armor and a helmet form around me in a flash of light, the flash didn't blind me and the only reason I knew it happened was seeing the room get brighter for a split second. Despite feeling the full suit on me, my vision and range of motion was completely free and my actual clothes just seemed to give way to the suit without being uncomfortable or weird. I looked down to my arms and saw them covered by leather like sleeves and gloves. Uzume clapped and a pair of kuroko, probably the same pair from earlier, brought in a body length mirror for me to check myself out.

    The armor seemed to be based on the Ichigou suit from the Kamen Rider reboot movies. Instead of the blue and black scheme from The First or the dark green and black scheme from The Next the gloves, boots, shoulder pad cap-thingies, and chest piece were white, the stripes running down the sides of the sleeves, body, and pant legs were red. There wasn't a red scarf, it was replace by a white fur lining kind of like a bomber jacket's collar. Turning around to see my back, the wing like patterns were instead the Japanese rising sun. Then there was the helmet; instead of being grasshopper like it had the silhouette of a wolf's head, ears included, in white with the eyes being red.

    Issun hopped up on to my left shoulder and let out a punny wolf whistle.

    "Lookin' good…" he said while Uzume clapped excitedly

    "That belt houses the Celestial Wolf Armor, a fitting raiment for battle needs to look heroic right?"

    "How's it feel kid?" Issun said to me as I stared at my reflection.

    "It feels right." was all I needed to say.

    I knew instinctively that all I needed to do to power down was to simply will it away, and I did. I knew it the same way I knew that I could scry people I had a trace of with the mirror and that the magatama was a symbol of my divine providence and through it I could channel my divine essence to bring order and grant prosperity. A full fledged goddess wouldn't need to use those relics, but being reborn as a mortal Scion meant that I would regain that kind of power with time.

    "So what happens now?" I asked Uzume "What am I supposed to do with all of this?

    Uzume hugged me and said "That's up to you to decide."

    "There's only one last thing before you can go!" Issun said from my shoulder. He pulled a small mallet on twine out of his robes and tossed it to my right hand. It was a mallet shaped phone charm. "Give that a good shake whenever you need advice from 'lil 'ol me! From now on, I'm your personal guide to the weird world of supernatural shit!"

    With that, Issun pulled out the mallet he beaned me with in that dream, gave it a shake, and disappeared.


    I may not know what I was going to do tomorrow, but I did know what I was going to do today.

    "There's someplace I have to be." I told Uzume who just tightened her hug before letting me go and saying goodbye.

    With that I walked out of the shrine, put on my shoes, then left down the middle of the path. I got back on Chibi Cyclone and gunned it to Brockton Bay General. As soon as I got there and chained up my bike, I called home on my cell until my parents answered. Needless to say they were pretty shocked to wake up to me telling them I had snuck out and gone to the hospital. They kinda figured why I was there, mom was understanding and dad said that he'd call the school and say I was out sick. They also read me the riot act and told me they were disappointed that I'd do something like this, but they said they wouldn't punish me this time so long as I didn't make a habit of it.

    I made my way to Taylor's hospital room, Taylor was still unconscious but she wasn't on an oxygen mask anymore, her dad was praying. I took a step forward, Mr. Hebert hearing my foot hit the tile and looking over to me with red and tear filled eyes.

    "You're one of Taylor's friends from the music shop…" he said "Do your parents know you're out this late?"

    "They do." I said, trying to give him a reassuring look. "They also know I snuck out to be here."

    I put a hand on his shoulder before he could say anything.

    "Go home Mr. H" I told him "Get some rest, you'll need it when she wakes up."

    "No…" he said "I can't leave her…"

    "You need your strength, go home and get some sleep, you'll need it for when she wakes up. I'll watch over her until you come back."

    Mr. Hebert nodded his head before leaning over to Taylor and giving her a kiss on her forehead. I took his seat as he left and held Taylor's hand. I felt the power of the sun within me, and hoped that I could give some of its warmth wherever Taylor was in that coma.

    As her EKG beeped along, I swore;

    "I'll find who did this and I will bring them to justice, Taylor."
     
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    • Lily's Character Sheet + Expanded Relics
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    • THIS! Is the character sheet with which I used to determine the capabilities of the starting out characters of Band!

    This sheet is Lily's, as she has completed her Visitation, and thus is the first relevant character for me to reveal her base sheet. Please note this is a fan made, printer friendly, sheet for second edition that I cannot for the life of me remember where I DL'ed it or who made it (IF ANY OF YOU KNOW PLEASE TELL ME AND I WILL EDIT THIS TO GIVE PROPER CREDIT)

    So after I wrote the outline for each character of the as of yet unnamed Band, I used the chargen rules from Scion 2nd Edition; Hero to make every member of the Band (minus Taylor because she's a canon character and I'd just class her as a DMPC with super plot relevance.). This is an almost complete character sheet; the proper amount of Health boxes have not been marked, Deeds are shit you do that you get XP for and if you complete all three you move up a point of Legend, she doesn't have any Fatebindings (yet), and her Birthrights needed a separate notepad file to write what they do in proper detail beyond the ant size space of those boxes and they WILL be featured further down this text post.

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    This here is Page 1

    Let's start with Skills & Attributes. Rated from 0 (Being a chance die roll and thus a lower chance of success) to 5 (being the peak of mortal human abiliity without magical/divine enhancement, which Scions can go past once they hit Demigod) with the dot rating equal to how many dice you roll when using that skill or attribute. A proper dice roll is skill+attribute with the goal to get as many successes as you can. Now you may be wondering, how in the hell does a 14 Year Old girl have almost master level athletics and close combat and the strength of a man twice her size and then some. Usually Scion characters are made to be about in their late teens/early twenties in Origin, I just used the same rules and handwave it as "Being a Scion means you have an easier time reaching above than mortals" The words on the underline of each skill are the Skill Specialty, you can get these once you hit a skill rating of 3. You can add a specialty to add a +1 Enhacement to your roll when you use that skill in that way, Enhancement giving you an additional Success if you succeed at least once (thus allowing you to activate knacks, inflict injuries, crit, etc). Being a girl who wants to make her own Tokusatsu, she picked up martial arts and is in the best shape of her life. So her Athletics and Close Combat (it's your melee skill) specialties are Acrobatic Tricks and Hand-To-Hand respectively. Her Integrity specialty being her Pure Heart (deflecting temptation by being a "pure and sweet maiden") and her Leadership specialty being Team Building Excercises, because godammit I couldn't get the idea of motivational speaker Amaterasu teaching people how to properly work together out of my head. Specialties can be as specific or as vague as your Storyteller/DM will allow you.

    Legend, the stuff that Scions run off of. Concentrated memetic badassery. With each point of legend comes a legendary title; you use these to make your action a Feat of Scale (upping the Scale of which you do things by one) by spending legend. Your Legendary Title goes off one of your Callings (which we will get to that in a bit) and thus must be made with keywords associated with them, in this case her first legendary title "The Sun's Justice & Mercy" comes from her Judge calling.

    Paths are divvied into three; Origin (What you were), Role (What you are), Pantheon (What you are to your Pantheon/What you want to be to your Pantheon). Paths are how you get some of your skills in chargen (hence why they have skills in parentheses by their name. You also get whatever is relevant to your character through your paths and invoking them, working with your Storyteller to see what that actually means.

    The Virtue Track, basically you can up your roles by sliding towards one way or the other on the virtue track and also risking being overtaken by that virtue and making yourself one dimensional. Lily being a Kami has the virtues of Sincerity and Right Action. The balancing act of being genuine and doing the right thing.

    Here be Page 2

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    Callings, these bad boys are how you get your Knacks (Demigod Perks/Skills). You must choose one from your Divine Parent/Patron/Former Self and then you may choose any other two you want (at chargen when making a Hero, Origin tier get watered down Callings and they only can have one calling and it must be the one from their Patron/Parent). You can have up to your Calling Dots in Knacks from that calling, Heroic Knacks "costing" one Calling dot and Immortal Knacks "costing" two. The amount of dots in a calling determines how many keywords should be in a Legendary Title. Her title being rooted in the Judge Calling those words were "Justice" and "Mercy". Let's go Knack by Knack

    • Good Listener: By nature of being easy to talk to and friendly enough to vent to, you can glean relevant information from people. (When talking to DMPCs you can figure out if they have anything relevant to what you're looking for via conversation so long as they know it)
    • Indisputable Analysis: You get super investigation visualization skills, now you can roleplay your favorite evening cop show character! (in game you roll to determine the enhancement bonus you get to investigating a scene)
    • Quick Study: You have sherlock holmes level observational investigation powers (in game; halve the time you need to make a complete clue collection in a scene)
    • Army of One: Exactly what you think it means (In Game; receive no penalty for fighting outnumbered, gain enhancement based on your Legend to all attacks so long as there are more enemies than you are facing/there are members of your party)
    Now on to the good shit; Purviews, divine powers. Gives you an innate power just for having access to it and allows you to spend Legend to do Marvels (miracles/magic relevant to the purview) or use a Boon (rather than the free form of a Marvel, do essentially a spell with that Purview). IN vanilla, you get two boons at chargen period. My gaming group house rules it so that you get all of your pantheon's Signature purview's boons and you may take two of the three boons from your innate purview for free. Still leaving you with two boons from any of your other purviews.

    • Yaoyorozu no Kami is the Signature Purview of the Kami of Japan. It allows their scions to communicate with the kami of objects and thus get them to tell you things or do things for you. Its boons; Appeasing the Kami allows you to schmooze the kami into being better at its job for you and yours while making it uncooperative for anyone you don't want using its using it. The Watchful Spirit allows you to have an object kami play lookout/watchdog for you. Innate Ability; you can speak to the Kami within objects.
    • The Sun Purview. Gives you the power of the sun. Doesn't matter if its the sun as a life giver, a source of heat, or the symbolism of it such as the morning light meaning hope for a new day. Hope Reborn channels the symbolism of the sun to make people see you as a possible solution to their problems thus granting an Enhancement for when you try to figure those out or (if you're an asshole) use them as leverage in influence. Penetrating Glare adds Enhancement when you roll to cut through lies, confusion, illusions, or any other deception. Innate Abilities; you can radiate an aura of sunlight that pierces darkness up to long range as a reflex, spending legend makes the light more radiant and imposes penalties on rolls to attack you or your allies.
    • Epic Stamina. This is the kind of tankiness you expect from Demigods, you can now facetank things you shouldn't. Adamant body gives you natural armor and makes you resistant against a specific type of damage determined by you when you activate the Boon. Innate Abilities: immunity to mundane poison and disease and never risk dying of hunger, thirst, or exhaustion
    • Epic Strength. Remember Hercules? He had this one. Pistons for Fists make you hit so hard you knock people prone or send them flying backwards also, Mooks and Jobbers become Dynasty Warriors enemies and thus you can take out Mooks/Jobbers all at once with your attacks rather than going at it one at a time if you so choose. Innate Abilities: your scale goes up by one for the purposes of lifting/carrying/breaking objects you can also use the Might attribute in place of Presence to intimidate, seduce, or make friends.
    • Order. Supernatural Authority over society and civilization. Innate Abilities: Law sense, allowing you to determine if any action you witness or think about doing is legal, accurately. Also mortal, non blessed, normal law enforcement is physically unable to taking action against you for doing something that is lawful nor can they overreach the bounds of authority. Why? Because, and I quote, "their body betrays them in the face of true justice"
    • Propserity. You control the prosperity of people and cities thus allowing to bless people with good monetary fortune (wether it be good investment or just an influx of high paying customers) or rescind it. Innate Abilities: by flexing your wealth to influence someone, you can make them like you a bit more. Lily will NEVER use this.
    BIRTHRIGHTS! THE MAGICAL AND DIVINE GIFTS BESTOWED UPON SCIONS TO GRANT THEM THE MEANS TO CHANNEL THEIR DIVINE MIGHT! Now I believe I mentioned exactly what the statblocks here mean in my Relic Creation post earlier, its threadmarked in the Informational tab for those curious. Here are the statblocks for those Birthrights;

    Issun-Boshi
    Guide & Retainer

    Guide Traits (Rating: 1)
    Asset Skills: Close Combat
    Benefits/Invocation: Issun is quite the spry little thing and knows the best way to take on opponents larger than yourself!
    Guide Stunt: (1-3s) Gain Enhancement equal to successes spent on the next roll you make to attack, defend, or evade an opponent of a larger Scale of Size than yourself.

    Celestial Wolf Armor
    Henshin Hero's Garb

    Relic Traits (Rating: 4)
    Purviews: Epic Strength, Epic Stamina
    Motif: With the strength and fortitude to face any evil
    Knack: Henshin!
    The Armor can be summoned and dismissed from the belt buckle

    Armor Traits
    Armored: Hard (1), Resistant (Bulletproof) (2)

    Yata no Kagami Compact
    Compact Mirror

    Relic Traits (Rating: 2)
    Knack: Scry
    The Mirror allows for remote viewing of any person on The World so long as the user can properly visualize their targe and/or has something of their target's, Rating: Imbue 1 Legend

    Yasakani no Magatama
    Jade Jewel Bead Necklace

    Relic Traits (Rating: 4)
    Purviews: Order, Prosperity
    Motif: By the grace of the Kami do I claim the right to lead.

    And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Lily Vargas as a scion complete with almost done character sheet. Lemme know what you think, lemme know what you thought of 2.4, hell lemme know if you would prefer I don't make another post like this again and just stick to prose. Your feedback helps drive me and drives the story.
     
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    • Lily

    01/11/11​

    "Lily?"

    I turned my head away from Taylor and to the woman who called my name. Despite not recognizing her face, I recognized her voice. My godmother, Saoirse McCullough, was standing next to a man with bright red hair and concerned eyes, he looked like a young Finn McCullough. Rather than the seasoned pair of fellow denizens of the Champion's District, they looked like they were in the prime of their lives. Seeing as how the past day or so have been kinda hectic and weird, I wasn't really surprised.

    "Shouldn't you be in school, young lady?" asked Young Finn, looking really weird with his outdated fashion sense and newfound youth. I mean, he rocked it, don't get me wrong but it's kind of weird seeing someone dress like they just came off some old movie set.

    "I snuck out and came here. I called my parents when I parked my bike at around-" I looked over to the hospital room clock, the hands read 9:32. "-2:30ish. I had to come…"

    Young Finn and Young Saoirse looked concerned, same mannerisms as they had when they were old folks kinda confirmed that I'm just seeing them as they are rather than the illusion that made them look old or whatever.

    "Mr. Hebert was here." I told them, letting out a sigh and slouching in the uncomfy seat some more "He looked exhausted so I told him to get some rest."

    Young Saoirse moved over and took the seat to my right, Young Finn brought a chair from the corner underneath the TV and gently set it down on my left, sitting down on it. Saoirse gave me a hug and I laid my head on her shoulder, Finn gave my shoulder a firm and comforting squeeze.

    "Poor dear, been here for seven hours!" she said trying to hug me as tight as possible "You must be exhausted yourself."

    Truth be told, I wasn't. Three hours of sleep, haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, my Visitation (is it really a visitation if you have to bike your way there and its technically you incarnate as a mortal reawakening your memories as a goddess or is it called something else?) and then coming here would have laid me out. I don't even think I'd be able to force myself awake normally, even now as a Scion. I know it isn't the mirror or magatama's power, it's almost instinctive but I feel like it's the armor within the belt's power.

    "I'm fine." was all I could say, Saoirse hugged me a little tighter and Finn gave me a pat on the back.

    "How is she?" Saoirse asked me

    I explained to her what I had heard from the doctors and nurses that came through a few hours ago; her condition was stabilizing, she was healing a little faster than expected but nothing unnatural, no infections which was practically a miracle, and they may be able to take her off the breathing tube-thing soon, but since she hasn't woke up yet they're gonna do a CT scan some time later today or tomorrow and maybe see if they can pull that healing cape girl from New Wave over.

    I never bothered learning cape names, just their general power plus gimmick. I didn't really find them interesting or intimidating when I was an unaware Scion and now that I'm what I am even less interested and even more unintimidated. Unless it's Clockblocker (because how the hell do you not remember a name like that?) or Mouse Protector (who is a treasure and if anything were to happen to her I would use my reawakened goddess-ness to smite the monster that would dare strip the world of a shining light)

    "How's Walt?" I asked after I took a moment.

    Finn let out a frustrated sigh "He'll be in juvenile hall 'till his court date tomorrow, Donnie paid for a lawyer out of his own pocket and told us that he should be released and have the charges dropped on the state's Good Samaritan law but the juvenile prosecutor is, and I quote, a "hardass with a mean streak a mile wide and a burning hatred for children and adolescents" and is taking it to the judge.

    I know that my hometown is a rough and tumble place with a crime rate and amount of dirty cops and judges rivaling Chicago's historic records but I also knew for a fact that no judge in this city would be dumb enough to let an assault and battery charge stand and waste the court's time. Just like I knew it was the Magatama's power helping me remember that.

    We sat in silence for a while, Taylor's EKG beeping along steadily.

    "Relieving Daniel was a good move. We were mighty surprised when we saw his old truck in his driveway." Finn said, breaking the silence. "Saoirse and I went to see him before we came here. He seemed to be holding up a lot better than you'd expect…"

    Finn trailed off and took a deep breath before getting back to it

    "He said that Doreen and Eric, Walt's parent's, had came and spoke to him in his dreams." Finn's eyes got a little watery, but his voice didn't change "They told him that it wasn't Taylor's time, he just had to have faith…"

    He smiled nostalgically, Saoirse chuckled

    "…and then Eric told him 'don't forget a helluva lot of patience' then he said Eric gave him a punch to the face and woke him up!"

    I was a bit confused at that and raised my hand a bit

    "Let's just say that's how we knew for sure it was our dear son-in-law talking." Saoirse helpfully said.

    I lowered my hand and just nodded.

    "Still. I don't know if it really was Eric and Doreen themselves or just Daniel's own hopes, but I'm inclined to believe that dream of his." Finn said giving me a hopeful look, one I returned with a smile. "Now you should be heading home, you are officially relieved."`

    I gave him a salute and a smile, one he returned and Saoirse gave me a wave goodbye. I told Taylor goodbye as well and made my way to the elevator. When I hit the call button, the elevator was all the way to the top floor, giving me plenty of time to think about my next move. That girl that Walt mentioned could be a lead, find her and then find her accomplices. My house is within riding distance of the McCullough's house, which is right next door to the Hebert's. None of us talked about school during our little hang out at the music shop, but if Walt and Taylor live near me then that means they are in my school district. The district I'm in, if I remember it right, is the West Brockton Unified School District. There are five schools in the district, and of those five there are only two that will take new students year-round; Whipple High School which is underpopulated with students for some reason, and Winslow High School which is a notorious example of the worst that you can get in American education outside of Chicago and will take anybody regardless of if they even have the resources for some damn reason.

    If Winslow was like my school then they would have the students fill out incident reports for the school administrators to give to a resource officer or a disciplinarian or something. I know that Winslow is a shit hole but it's not like they can just tell them to fuck off. It was better than standing around and Winslow was on the way home. Besides, I still have plenty of gas in Chibi Cyclone's tank! The elevator opened up and I walked in, feeling like Shotaro Hidari sans the fedora or twinkish partner. Well, if Donnie was with me I guess he could be my twinkish partner but he doesn't have the features for it, personality on the other hand…

    The elevator's ding and the doors opening brought me out of my thoughts of Donnie in Phillip cosplay and how ridiculous he'd look. In walked a face that I swear I had seen before but couldn't quite place, a face almost obscured by the hood of her white robe. Brownish hair, smattering of freckles, kind of on the thicker side of average and bringing back some memories of my past life all involving onsen trips that I was desperately trying to not think about as I didn't need visions of the various plots and tracts of land belonging to the ladies of the court in my head right now as I am a good and pure kind of christian maiden with pure intentions and thoughts and most certainly have not read some explicit doujins of anime boys and many Kamen Riders, nor have I indulged in the unsolicited writing of fan works that have been posted on the internet to be disseminated to fellow degenerates.

    Nope.

    Most certainly not.

    Rather than continue down the dangerous and unproductive train of thought I turned towards the familiar girl and noticed that she was on the phone, a frantic male voice was chattering away from her phone's speaker and I tried to subtly eavesdrop as to distract myself.

    "Slow down." she said pinching the bridge of her nose "You're up pretty damn late for you, start with why."

    The voice chattered away again, slower, but still frantic

    "I don't like where this conversation is going, please tell me you didn't do something stupid."

    The amount of words that the chattering seemed to correlate to did imply that mystery man did in fact do something stupid.

    "What. The. Hell. Did. You. Do. Johnny?" the girl ground her teeth with every word

    The voice screamed out words that I could easily make out as "Just come over and help me, please!" said in a manner that I could only describe as desperate and panicked.

    My totally accurate and in no way wishful thinking deductions have led me to believe that this girl's boyfriend is going to be in the doghouse or on the couch for the forseeable future. Such are the trials of young love. Well whoever this girl is probably has it handled, and judging by the look on her face, about to raise some hell.

    "You better open the door when I get there." The girl said with a sigh "I'm hanging up, you keep that girl stable and you better not do something crazy while I try and get a cab ride there."

    The plot thickens! And now I'm thinking about thick plots again.

    Dammit.

    As soon as we hit the ground floor robe girl strutted out as she called up a cab and I headed towards the bike rack to get Chibi Cyclone and unchain it. After that I popped my phone into the cradle on my handlebars, popped in the directions to Winslow on MapQuest and was on my popping way. I tried to gun it as safely and within the rules of the road as I could, tyring to avoid a ticket, and thanked my magatama for letting me know how far I can go before I'm in lawbreaking territory.

    It didn't take long, there wasn't that much traffic and the MapQuest app always seems to know the fastest route for your vehicle, and mopeds count as bicycles. When I actually got there it was time for some recon. I circled around the campus once on my bike and parked it a bit a ways from anywhere within eyeshot of a security camera and made sure to chain it up thoroughly, this was the ghetto after all, the second time was around foot. The campus had a chain-link fence around the perimeter topped with barbed wire to discourage fence hoppers and three entrances for vehicles; the main parking lot which was occupied only by a single security guard more engrossed in his phone than patrolling or even paying attention, the rear access to the school's really crummy football field with its own parking lot and chained up fence gates, and a side gate probably made for landscaper access or something. Of course, I did find one other entrance. While I walked around the fence, I spotted a hole cut open and covered with some bushes, I crawled through and made my way to the school's main building.

    Between both times I circled the building I had only seen one car, that security guard's, which hopefully meant that there wouldn't be anybody inside the school at the moment like a heavy cleaning crew. At my school we had an incident involving the ag club and some fertilizer, and since it was considered bio-hazardous waste by technicality they had to call the district to get the area cordoned off and have it be thoroughly cleaned by a hazmat team. With this being ACTUAL bio-waste involved I doubt they could actually avoid calling the district before word got back to them. Which meant that if there wasn't a crew here then either they were on their way or they were there the day of the incident. If it took hours for them to get to my school I have no doubt they would take their sweet time getting to a shitty school like Winslow. At the very least I had a naive hope that I could get in there without having to sneak by anybody wandering inside.

    I kept to the rear side of the building, trying to find some way inside aside from the doors, feeling that they were probably all locked. I spotted an open window, about big enough for me to just eek through and with a convenient parallel wall for me to shimmy up like a ninja and just slide through. Of course with the winter breeze I didn't get a whif of the inside. As soon as my feet touched the floor it hit me; old blood mixed with stale piss and untended toilets. It didn't take me long to see the source of the blood smell; blood spatter on the wall and under the sink closest to the window, pooled blood that couldn't quite go down the tile floor's drain and just stained the floor. There was a trail and smear that seemed like it was made by someone being dragged through it. The amount of blood everywhere was probably enough for someone to die. The footprints through the blood were a bit curious. Different styles of shoe all frantically walking over the blood and presumably dragged the guy into the stall, then there's a small set of cat paw prints going into the stall but in a manner indicating bipedal movement and gait, and then over all the previous prints are a pair of a heavy shoe, maybe a work shoe, walking out of the stall and stopping at the sink before turning and walking out the door.

    Unless there was another stabbing at the school, which I wasn't going to count out just yet, then this is where Walt was attacked and that just posed a couple of questions in and of itself. First, while there wasn't a lot of blood on the floor there was enough to say it was full on stabs and not just shallow cuts and slashes like Walt tried to play it off last night. Second, there was the cat paw prints, the ones that looked like it was a cat walking upright rather than on all fours. The first explanation that would make sense would be that Walt is a cape, that would mean that he would have had his whatever-moment inside this bathroom stall as he was being stabbed or even as he sat in the stall or have had powers previously, but that did not explain the paw prints. The second explanation is that Walt is whatever his Grandparents or his parents are. This explanation entirely hinges on whatever Finn and Saoirse are whatever Walt's parents were and sadly none of the smattering of memories of my old life had anything to say beyond maybe being some form of Denizen, the catch all term for sapient and sentient supernatural beings that are not mindless monsters, or a Scion like me. It makes more sense then Walt being a Parahuman to be completely honest and has a chain of logic that I would like to think makes sense. Something is weird about Finn and Saoirse, therefore there was something weird about Walt's mom and possibly father, therefore Walt has that weirdness through inheritance.

    With a shake of my head I got to my feet and I made sure to take photos of the paw prints plus the blood before I left the bathroom. I stepped out as stealthily as possible making sure to ease the door closed to reduce noise and kept my ear out for any noises other than mine. It seemed like I was alone in the halls of Winslow High, the only thing that I could really sense was a foul stench coming from further in to the school. I followed the smell, already having a good idea of what the source was and sure enough, it was the locker. I don't think I could really describe it in any other way then kegare, not just for the contents but for the amount of pure evil it took to actually put someone inside it. I took photos with my phone, trying desperately not to cry or crush my phone into scrap. My instincts told me that I wouldn't find anything in that foulness, nothing worthwhile that could be used to bring me closer to the culprits, despite that I took the photos. I needed it to remind me of the kind of evil I was going up against, the kind that I knew existed but ignored my whole life.

    Actually seeing the locker in person did tell me one thing at least; this was premeditated, it was personal, there was history behind it, which meant I may just have something with that incident report line. Which meant I needed to get to the administration office. I spotted a few signs showing where the main office was and followed them, still trying to be sneaky in case there was someone else inside the school with me. When I got there and tried the door, it was locked. Luckily I knew just the trick to get it open. I knelt down in front of the doorknob, gave a quiet clap, left my hands in a prayer position, and then gave a bow to it.

    "Pardon the intrusion, most venerable kami of the door." I made sure to address the kami with as much respect as I could "My friend was harmed in this school and the answers I seek may be within the records held beyond you. May I come inside?"

    The grain of the wood shifted slightly making a pensive face and pausing to think for a few moments. The face in the wood grain softened, then nodded, and I heard the lock disengage.

    "Thank you kami-sama." I said as I opened the door, giving it a pat on the frame as I passed through the threshold.

    As I walked into the office two thoughts popped into my head; I should probably give my bike and my phone some TLC and thank their kami, and that this office was the most disorganized office I had ever seen. It was honestly very difficult to look at and I didn't know where to even begin. I'm not exactly tech savvy and I don't think that a school computer's kami would exactly be willing to parlay with someone other than the person who used it on the reg, I got lucky with the door, I didn't need to push it. That left everything else. I honestly don't know how much time I spent combing through each and every unlocked cabinet and drawer but it was probably forty five minutes minimum, luckily it was time well spent. I had found a good amount of incident reports with Taylor's name going back as far as last year in really bizarre places like inside a binder marked "Loss Sheets", under the secretary's desk, or even in a box marked "To Be Shredded for Boiler Kindling" of all things.

    Taylor had quite a few girls bullying her, but the three names that came up the most were Emma B, Sophia H, and Madison C. I couldn't find anything that could help me find out what those last initials stood for or even where to look, it was like this place was built on an indian burial ground with a floor plan that generated negative feng shui AND was cursed by a gypsy woman that was having a bad day for good measure! It was honestly a miracle that I found what I did. I know that nobody would notice a few missing incident reports, but I needed copies for myself that I could reference with Walt and Donnie when he gets his head back on straight.

    WHIRR~

    I turned the copy machine on and felt myself die a little inside with every loud noise that came out of it.

    KER-RUUUUUUNG~

    With every page copied, a loud whirring and clunking of internals chugged out.

    BWEEEEEM~

    I whipped my head back and forth between the window and the copy machine, praying that nobody walked in and nobody was inside the building.

    VWIM~ VWIM~

    Then the blasted thing finally stopped making noise and I stuffed the copies into my parka and left the originals sandwiched between some random file folders on the secretary's desk.

    I didn't want to risk exposing myself anymore than I had so I left the room, thanking the kami of the door again as I left. Sneaking my way down the halls, I heard something that made my heart beat out of my chest.

    A burly sounding man shouting "Hey make sure to bring the pressure washer and the gut bucket!" and the slam of a van's sliding door.

    With that, I stopped sneaking and just bolted towards the school's back door. With every step I hoped and prayed that I wasn't about to be caught. I reached the back door and thanked every kami I could name, even myself, that the door had a regular deadbolt and not a keyhole on both sides. I undid the lock, clumsily and hastily, threw the door open and ran for the hole in the fence. I didn't stop running until I got to my bike.

    I stopped, my breathing getting only a little heavy, and looked over my shoulder towards the school. The cleaning crew were all laughing and joking, nobody was chasing me and I was sure that nobody even noticed I was there. I let out a sigh and felt my jacket to make sure that the copies I made were still there, the rustle of paper telling me they were. I unchained Chibi Cyclone, thinking on what I had just done. Even if there was something in the incident reports, they wouldn't be admissible in court, not unless I could get a cop to actually look for the originals and I doubted they would in this town. Still, it was a lead.

    I revved up my bike and took off towards home, hoping that Walt's charges got dropped and that he'd be able to help this investigation and that he'd answer my questions about his attack.
     
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    • Bend & Break 2.6
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    • Walt

    01/12/11​

    The past day and a half, although a phenomenal waste of both mine and the legal apparatus of this city's time, was rather enlightening. Mr. Rhodes had provided me with a lawyer from the law firm of Cypher, Scratch, & Morgenstern (a name that didn't really dispel the low hanging fruit of "how many lawyers there are in hell") that got to do very little in the whole process besides go on a tangent about how the whole legal system needed an enema. My attorney had informed me that due to the nature of the utterly asinine and draconian laws pertaining to youth offenses in light of the rise of parahuman led gangs, and thus a surge of youth offenders along with it, that a minor can be held by the police without bail until the minor's first court appearance with zero say from their legal guardians. My attorney was rather confident that in spite of all of it I would be let off with a fine at most on account of New Hampshire's Good Samaritan Law but I would still have to stay in a holding cell at the station until they took me to court the next day.

    I was stuck in a holding cell with about four other boys my age and I didn't care to speak or even acknowledge their existence. No, I simply sat on the bench and thought to myself while keeping still. My cellmates were frightened by something or other, I couldn't tell what, and had huddled into the furthest corner of the cell opposite me as I focused on my thoughts. I thought on what happened to me in the bathroom, what happened to Taylor in the locker, and what I was going to do about it when I was released. Which naturally, given the way the legal system was handling my situation and the picture painted by Taylor at New Years, meant that I would have to find and pursue the culprit myself. I may not be one of the Hardy Boys but Grandfather made damn sure I knew how to pay attention. I only had two leads, one of which being a name and the other a possibly missing girl but it was better than nothing. Sadly it was the only conclusions I could come up with thinking all night in a holding cell.

    Once the courthouse opened and started processing the youth offenders my cellmates and I were fast tracked their to meet our guardians and legal council. Finn and Saoirse weren't allowed to speak to me until after the hearing and were ushered into the courtroom seating while my attorney gave me a rundown of what was to come and rant on the perversion of the legal system since The Protectorate became a government body. She didn't really say anything pertinent to my case, just went on and on about legislation being proposed at the federal level and I did my best to tune her out. Then it came time for the hearing. My attorney didn't even get to say a damn thing; prosecutor opened her mouth, read off the charges, the judge read through the file, proceeded to tear into the prosecutor, then dismissed the charges outright on account of the Good Samaritan Law. Lucky me that the judge seemed a decent man. After they took the cuffs off and released me back to my grandparents, my lawyer left after handing them her card and my grandparents told me that there was somebody who wanted to meet with me. They were pretty cagey about it, but I had a good feeling on who they were talking about. We stopped by the house so I could shower and get some clean clothes on rather than the uncomfortable clothes they gave me at the station.

    Silent car ride later and we were at The Champion's District making our way to the shop, Evian perched on the ledge of one of the windows comfortably.

    "About time!" He purred as he stretched out "What took ya?"

    "Had to shower, cat." was my reply and Saoirse made sure to give me a playful smack upside the head for it

    Evian just chuckled and rolled his eyes as best as he could before addressing Finn and Saoirse

    "Doors unlocked, they used the spare key."

    Finn and Saoirse headed in first, they looked like they were hoping beyond hope that they were not being strung along and I followed behind them. Standing casually against the register counter was my father and standing in the middle of the store with a somewhat nervous expression was my mother. Father had a briefcase in one hand and was wearing mostly black; a flannel winter coat, a pair of boot cut jeans, and some old work boots. He would no doubt stick out like a sore thumb if he were to walk among the people of Brockton Bay but given recent revelations I don't think he would care in the slightest. My mother was the opposite, wearing a forest green Brockton Bay University hoodie, jeans, some sneakers, and her long red hair in a ponytail, actually looked like she would blend in quite well in the city.

    None of us said a word, the silence dragging out for what felt like hours. None of us moved, barring my father looking from Mother to Finn to Saoirse to me then back again. Father let out a sigh then gave a lazy wave and a smile.

    "Finn. Saoirse. Walt. Good to see ya." He said plainly and with an accent that you'd expect from a Wyoming country boy rather than the non accent I heard him speak with when they brought my soul to his Sanctum. "We did not entirely die."

    With such an odd choice of words said, my mother let out a sigh and began wringing her hands as she attempted to formulate a sentence. Instead of speaking she just ran up and hugged Finn and Saoirse tightly not wanting to let them go. Finn and Saoirse did the same.

    Father walked around them and gave me a one armed hug

    "How ya feelin' son? Healing up nice?" he said jovially

    I just nodded. My father was in front of me in the flesh and I just nodded. No words, no questions, no heartfelt embrace or tear of the eye.

    Just nodded. What kind of son just nods to the father he has never seen in person? A subpar one I imagine.

    Mother broke the tight embrace with her own parents, seeming to finally work up the steel to say something.

    "Mom, dad I dunno how to tell you this…" she started, her voice that of a New Englander and her face growing more sheepish and nervous as she spoke. "…but I'm a goddess and my husband is a god?"

    Finn just chuckled and Saoirse just had a knowing smile.

    "Honey, we kind of had the idea that you were more then met the eye when we found out about Evian." Finn said, once again embracing Mother.

    Saoirse chuckled and said "Ní raibh tú caolchúiseach i ndáiríre."

    Somehow I know that's Irish, never heard the language before in my life and never even knew there was an Irish language.

    For some reason.

    Mother laughed and said "Ar a laghad ní raibh tú ainm dom tar éis mé féin."

    "Either of you understand any of that?" Finn asked

    Father shrugged his shoulders and I just said "No."

    Mother and Saoirse laughed then we moved to the back room. They continued their conversation in Irish on the back couch, Evian on Mother's lap being petted, while Father, Finn, and I sat at the table. Finn and Father conversed while I listened attentively.

    "What did you mean by 'not entirely dead' and which gods are you two supposed to be?" Finn's question was said rather directly, I got the feeling that while he had quite the brush with the supernatural and being forever changed by it, he still had trouble believing it.

    "Quite a few actually. See, a god has these things called Mantles, more or less the godly persona. There's the main one a god has, then sometimes they make new ones either by accident or on purpose." Father said with his feet propped up on an unclaimed chair "I've picked up a handful of 'em as I wandered; The Grim Reaper, Pecos Bill, got mistaken for the devil a few times but it never really caught on. My main one is Erikaer Helson."

    "I don't know who that is, also how do you go from being the personification of death to a whimsical cowboy story?" Finn was rather incredulous to say the least

    "Eh, it's all in the audience." Father waved his hand as if to dispel Finn's skepticism "I also don't blame you for not knowing who I am, I'm a really minor Norse god after all. Really only known as Hel's son and going out and grabbing people who try to cheat death. Hell I think I only show up in either Edda like twice."

    Finn sighed and cut straight to the point "Doreen is Titania isn't she?"

    Father tapped his nose and nodded. "Not her main Mantle, but it is one of her favorites. Dawn's her main one, yet another minor god. She kinda became the go to girl for witches in North America by accident and she shows up as a bit part in some Celtic myths."

    "Minor gods, ok." Finn let out a deep sigh "So if both of you are gods then why did you die?"

    "Eh, went loud and murked eight of the crackhouse nine."

    Finn went pale, his eyes widening in shock. "They were in Brockton Bay?"

    "Yeah, figured that'd be the reaction." Father said with a chuckle. "They weren't here long, obviously."

    Father leaned back into his chair, nodding over to Mother. "Hey Dory, wanna tell the story or should I?"

    Mother sat straighter and cleared her throat

    "I was doing some divining with Evian and found out about it. Walter was only six months old and neither of us trusted the local authorities to do anything competent, we figured if we were discreet about it we could deal with a problem and be back the next morning."

    She chuckled nervously

    "Needless to say that didn't quite happen. As soon as I found out and told Eric, we took Walter to your place Dad, got some gear then rode over to where the nine were heading."

    Finn and Saoirse both looked like they were reliving that night. I imagine it was a rough memory to have, seeing your daughter and son-in-law drop off their son and then never be seen alive again.

    "Turns out they had the bright idea to offer their services to the highest bidder among The Marche, The Teeth, and The Empire. The Teeth, psychos that they were bid the highest. That's when Eric had the bright idea of kicking down the door we were by and 'just start blasting them' with his trench broom."

    Father laughed, almost a cackle really, with sadistic glee

    "Finn, you shoulda seen it! The Butcher went all 'Oh shit!' when I just unloaded on him! Seeing the bastard's flesh rend off his bones, mm-hmm, I got a huge kick out of that! He died first and I caught his nasty ass with my death bag! Man! He was on every damn list I could think of, all those souls had different places they were heading and none of them were good lemme tell ya!"

    Mother cleared her throat once more, giving a gently scolding look at Father who held his hands up and uttered an apology with a smile. When she continued, a rather fond smile graced her features

    "Robbing the sight from their very eyes, turning fortune against them, seeing hardened criminals become a panicked mob running for their lives in utter terror. That's a sight I will cherish. The Marquis had the right idea of leaving the first chance he had, The Teeth were slaughtered wholesale between the pair of us and the chaos, we didn't manage to kill anybody from the Empire sadly. We did kill all but that slippery bastard Jack Slash through great effort and he filled up the roster by the end of the year."

    Father let out a heavy sigh

    "Fucker got away while we were fighting Grey Boy. He managed to catch me into a loop, but I killed it."

    Finn gave Father this odd look

    "Yes, I killed the weird time loop bubble whatever he put me in. Being a death god will do that."

    Father turned to me and said "That's a quick bit of advice for you, the stuff you have divine purview over can be used even in esoteric ways like literally killing a time loop."

    I gave a quick nod and committed that to memory.

    "On our way home we were stopped by some familiar faces, Valkyries for me, the whole damn Wild hunt for her."

    "No ifs ands or buts." Mother added "Felt like I was eight again."

    Saoirse lit up, remembering something "Ah, at Bachman's!"

    Mother rubbed her neck nervously "Yup, didn't wanna leave and it was time to go. Just booted our souls from our mortal bodies and then dragged us off to Asgard and Tír na nÓg respectively. Lugh wanted to have words with me."

    "Allfather, the real one that is not the dumbass down here, got chewed out. 'You almost broke the damn rules Erikaer, they had another fifteen years Erikaer, why are you acting so smug Erikaer, go back to Helheim and stay there until you've learned your lesson Erikaer' damn was he pissed."

    Mother smiled smugly "Lord Lugh was more understanding, however he did bar me from making any personal visits for a while. He did allow me to weave the mists into Walter for his protection and to leave instructions to have Walt sent to Wyoming with Lucian. And before you ask mom, I did that because Walt would have been far safer out there in the sticks and Lucian, for all of his flaws, would have prepared him for his future far better if socially stunted."

    I am not socially stunted. I just don't enjoy speaking to people very often.

    "Another fifteen years for what?" Asked Finn, Father was the one to perk up and answer

    "Eh, the gods all got together in a big ass conclave and we gave humanity from January 1st​ 1981 to January 1st​ 2011 to stop…" Father trailed off "…something from happening. I'm gonna be honest I wasn't really listenin' and Dory refused to explained what got everyone so riled up in the Overworld and why we were gonna stop maintaining the Mists. Why is that Dory?"

    Mother smiled mischievously and simply said "Spoilers, babe."

    Father gestured to her and said "See what I mean?" while Evian had a look of shock on his face and said something to the effect of "Wait they just stopped maintaining the Mists?"

    "Which brings us to the other reason we're here." Mother said, once again clearing her throat "While we aren't banned from visiting the world from time to time we can't stay for too long, lest they drag us back again. We came here to grant Walt his Birthright."

    Mother got up from the couch, Evian in her arms, walked over to me and then set him down on my lap.

    "First part of it; Evian. He will be your guide into the ways of magic and help you with the Encyclopedia Fabula."

    "Yo." Evian smiled toothily and smugly, his earlier shock gone.

    I glared bullets into him, silently lamenting that I was now cursed to have an overly talkative Bostonian cat as my magic teacher.

    "The stuff in the briefcase will have to wait, the next part is further in to the shopping center. If you'd all follow me?"

    Finn and Saoirse seemed to have an idea of where we were being lead, Finn had a bemused look on his face while Saoirse looked slightly annoyed. Saoirse caught up with Mother and began speaking to her in Irish again so fast I couldn't make out the specifics of what they were saying although I could tell it was probably a scolding. Finn moved closer shortly after to try and play peacemaker leaving Father and I to trail behind with Evian in my arms.

    We didn't speak as we walked. To be honest, despite all the questions I said I had during the incident at school none of them were coming to mind. In hindsight any of them just seemed childish.

    "How you holdin' up son?" he asked me, breaking the silence.

    "I'm fine. My wounds are healing nicely." I told him "Little chance of scarring according to the doctors."

    Father sighed "I mean about what happened at the ranch."

    Ah. The reason I was even sent here.

    "I'd prefer not to talk about it." was all I said on the matter.

    Father just smiled and let out a chuckle. He reached into a pocket of his coat, pulled out a business card, and handed it to me. The number on the card was (000) 424-2564. Odd. 000 is not a valid are code…

    "Call that number if you ever wanna chat up your old man, ok?"

    Once again I just nodded and followed my mother and grandparents down an alleyway within the shopping center. The path we walked took odd turns and bends the whole way, and the light of the sun struggled to reach into the pathway with the only light really keeping the cobblestones visible being the lights of the many odd shops that dotted the alley. Eventually we arrived; two stores stacked on top of each other in a strange dip in the ground the one above ground was a tattoo parlor with a sign simply saying "Reeve's", and near the staircase leading to the below ground store was a smaller neon sign saying "Nuts N' Bolts" along with a helpful neon arrow showing the way.

    "Well son!" Father said giving me a clap on the shoulder. "Time to get some ink."

    "I'm sorry what?" was my reply. My eyes blinking in surprise.

    "Just go with it, when it comes to your mom life gets easier and more interesting when you do."

    I let out a sigh and tried to steel myself going in. I honestly never expected to have a tattoo and I never saw the appeal, let alone as a teenager. With my parents, my now very present and living in a manner of speaking parents, and grandparents accompanying me and giving their permission.

    Good god what has my life become.

    Mother opened up the door to the shop, an iridescent and odorless smoke curling out from within. When we got inside, the smoke was not filling the whole place but hugging tightly to the floor and ceiling constantly shifting from one color to the next. The walls were filled with framed sheets of artwork in varying styles, the furniture throughout the store was all antique and all from different cultures. Deep within the back of the shop we heard a man with an English accent loudly berating a simpering man.

    "Go see who's at the bloody door you fucking muppet!"

    Out of the back room, a rather put upon twenty-something with rather tasteful tattoos on his right arm dressed in some band shirt and jeans came out.

    "Uh… d-do you h-have an appointment?" he stuttered out as he approached the front desk.

    Mother smiled and cupped her hands around her mouth to yell "Hey Reeve! Your favorite apprentice and teacher is back in town for that collab!"

    A commotion came from the back room and a very thin and somewhat tanned man wreathed in the same iridescent smoke that hugged the floor and ceiling. With golden eyes, extremely sharp features, pointed ears this man was clearly not human. With him closer, I could tell that the smoke was coming from glowing tattoos depicting swirling smoke around his midsection. The strange thin man's face went from surprise to a wide jovial smile

    "Well it's about damn time!" He said.

    Mother turned to address us

    "This here is Reeve, this is his shop, in a previous life I was his mentor, in my life as Doreen McCullough I was his student."

    Reeve stood up straight, no longer hunched over he had a clear foot and a half taller than me and was probably at least seven feet tall. He crossed his fully sleeved in ink arms before speaking.

    "Best teacher and student I ever had." Reeve lightly swatted the chest of the skittish man beside him "My current apprentice here could learn a thing or too. Pay attention."

    Reeve's Apprentice nodded, his eyes filling with determination despite looking like he was a hairs breadth from having a panic attack. Reeve began walking towards the back room of the shop, his apprentice following along, the rest of us coming by when he called out to us to follow him. The room we were in was spacious enough for the seven of us to move around in, there was an adjustable chair that looked like it could be arranged to be a massage table in the center. Much like the front of the store, the walls were filled with framed sheets of artwork.

    "So who's the canvas?" Reeve asked looking through a rather impressive tool bench filled with various bits and bobs as well as pots of ink.

    Evian decided that now would be the time to squirm and get out of my arms, Mother soon grabbed my shoulders and guided me over to the chair.

    "This is my son Walter and this piece will be for him." Mother's voice was filled with joy and excitement.

    "Placement?"

    "Back."

    "Nice." Reeve let out a whistle and smiled a bit wider then turned to his apprentice "Set the chair up for the little prince."

    The apprentice did so.

    Mother went over to Reeve and took her hoodie off, she was wearing a sleeveless tank and I could see a full sleeve tattoo that seemed to change styles as it went from wrist to neck in a multitude of colors, and began discussing something with him in Scots Gaelic. I took off my top layers and once the apprentice was done I leaned over the back of the chair while I sat, resting my chin on the headrest and hanging my arms over the arm rests that were not raised and angled to facilitate my current posture.

    What came after was several hours of waiting; Finn was reading a magazine, Saoirse was apparently teaching Evian how to speak Irish, Father was resting his eyes as he sat on the floor against the wall, Mother and Reeve were hard at work sketching out the stencil.

    Reeve stopped to show me what he'd be using; a pair of needles that would make most people a bit nervous. He said that normally he'd use a gun for this but he didn't want to "Flex a bit" and Saoirse took that as her cue to take Evian to the front of the store and teach him there with Finn following after. I suppose that's one way to find out your grandmother is afraid of needles.

    When the stencil was done they placed it on my back and got to work. Mother and Reeve were gloved up and moving their tools over on small wheeled trays and tables. Mother wheeled her stool over to speak to me face to face.

    "This tattoo will give you great speed and fortitude, son. I'd rather bless you with immortality and invulnerability but if I did I would be provoking fate just as Frigg did when she did so with Baldur." She whispered to me. "It won't prevent you from being harmed, but it will make it more difficult to be harmed."

    Then they began.

    I felt the needles pierce my skin and I grit my teeth a bit in response. Mother asked me to let her know if the pain got too much.

    The pain of the needles was a mild annoyance in comparison to being stabbed, stung by a dream eating parasite, and being shot. The pain of the needles was almost comforting in a way, with every prick I felt power flow in to me. The rest of the session was silent and flew by quickly and I almost fell asleep a few times. Soon my mother and Reeve stopped and they told me it was done. They brought out a hand mirror and reflected the mirror my back was facing, giving me a good view of the now finished piece.

    At first glance it was a tree that covered nearly my entire back. On closer inspection, the entirety of the piece was actually an extravagantly intricate Celtic knotwork. I thought I could make out some swooping runes in a few of the lighter and more visible knots of the tree. It was beautiful. On top of all that, I felt lighter and hardier then ever. Like I could run a marathon at full sprint and not get tired with no warm up, although I didn't want to test that.

    "It's done!" Mom called out to Finn and Saoirse as she disposed of her gloves and pulled her hoodie back on. Then she took out a camera and took a few pictures of the piece.

    My grandparents were rather impressed

    "It looks great, honey." Finn said with a smile "Next time you visit maybe you can give your mom some ink."

    "I would sooner burn my coat dear." was Saoirse's reply as she smiled at him

    Reeve came over and handed a clipboard with some forms and a pen to them

    "Yeah, seeing as how it's illegal to tattoo a minor without legal guardian's permission I need the both of you to sign these."

    Saoirse rolled her eyes and got to reading and signing the paperwork. I stood up from the chair and started putting my shirt and coat back on. To my surprise there wasn't any soreness and I was fairly certain that I was supposed to have some kind of seal or something on the tattoo. Nobody stopped me and nobody was telling me about any hazards so I just chocked it up to magic.

    Mother cleared her throat and I turned to face her.

    "Normally with a Visitation you would be given a task by your patron, myself in this case. However, you're already planning on finding the one who attacked Taylor I take it?"

    "Yes."

    "Good. Then you will need a suitable weapon when you face them. You'll need it to face the evils you will come across and pursue."

    "Not to mention. You're gonna need a nice costume with some protection to go with it." Father said walking up to me from his spot on the floor. "Make sure the feds, the jagoffs in their little gangs, and other similar undesirables don't come after you and yours."

    Father brought up the suit case, released the clasps, then opened it. Inside were a silver belt buckle with a golden harp and a pair of crossing Irish flags behind it and a very ornate revolver.

    Saoirse exhaled slowly, clearly wanting to say something in protest but not doing so. Finn just rubbed her shoulder.

    "Try the buckle first, you'll see why when you do." said Father, gesturing to the plain belt I had on.

    I switched the original plain buckle with the new one and fastened my belt.

    "The belt is magical, it will allow you to change from your normal clothes to the Mantle of Midsummer. It's enchanted armor made specifically for you." Mother said. "It'll be a suitable disguise and the enchantments on it will help you deal with bullets. All you need to do to don the Mantle is to say something with the intent of calling it forth."

    That sounded a bit familiar.

    "Like some kind of catch phrase?" I asked her, inwardly cringing that this was the question I was comfortable asking.

    Father chuckled and said "You should shout 'Drip' when you do it, it'll be lit! They say that nowadays right?"

    Mother had the good sense to lightly elbow him in the ribs and tell him "You're sleeping on the couch tonight."

    Father just laughed a little more.

    Ah. Now I know why it seemed familiar. It reminded me of something Lily was talking about when we all were watching that show of hers. I had asked her why Kamen Riders pose and say their catchphrase. She said that it had its origins in kabuki theater, then when western media came to Japan it fused with the tropes from that media and became part of the general tropes of the medium. It was a signal to the audience that the hero was ready to face the villain and that the tide would turn.

    With that, I moved away to give myself some room and faced the mirror on the wall.

    I stood in profile, drawing my left arm across my chest as if drawing a pistol from a shoulder holster, aimed my hand as if were the drawn gun and took aim at my reflection with the index finger out and my thumb raised.

    "Let's ride." I said, willing the Mantle to come out.

    Vines and leaves sprouted from the belt and covered all but my eyes, my clothes shifting and a bundle forming on my head in a vague hat shape. The belt grew a holster and several rings the perfect size and shape to carry moon clips and the buckle changed designs, now depicting a rose with a pair of crossed revolvers. Just like the wax seal of the letter Evian had brought. The vines and leaves broke away in a shimmering light, leaving no debris. On my head was the cleanest and purest white cattleman I had ever laid eyes on, a forest green bandanna covered my face below my eyes, I was wearing a black long sleeve button up with a very intricate rose and thorned vine embroidery, a dark green duster, some nicer boot-cut jeans, and the nicest pair of roper's boots I'd ever worn. All I needed to add were the spurs I had at home to make the ensemble complete.

    Father let out a low whistle "Just as sharp lookin' as his old man."

    "It does suit you" My mother clearly agreed

    Finn gave me a thumbs up and Saoirse took in the outfit nodding in approval.

    "What's a cowboy without his gun?" said Father, handing me the gun by the barrel "Bullets will come later when you're ready to bring in that psycho that hurt your friend."

    The gun in question was a Remington 1858 New Model Army, a cartridge conversion to be specific. Standard eight-inch barrel, six shot cylinder, yew grips. The frame of the gun was bronze plated with silver inlaid vine engravings on the cylinder and along the barrel were runes;

    ᚲᛖᚨᛜᛚᛟᛁᚱ ᚨᛗᚨᛞᚨᚾ​

    I holstered the weapon and willed the Mantle away, figuring that if I had to will it forth I could will it away. Once again the vines came forth, this time undoing the change and taking the gun along with it.

    "Does the gun have a name?" I asked Mother

    "Fool Binder. The gun's magic will turn any bullet in its chambers into fae shot. They won't kill, but they will paralyze whoever they hit with intense wracking pain."

    She walked up and hugged me tight.

    "When your current quest for justice is over, you will be given duties. But for now, please find the culprit. There is also one last thing to tell you; by a trick of fate that I couldn't predict you've been under geas your whole life. A compulsion to face any evil in front of you."

    "I don't need a compulsion to do that." I said, somewhat smugly I'll admit "Not like I'd stop doing it if it wasn't there, now there's just more incentive not to."

    The smile on Mother's face went away for a second, her eyes however stayed sad.

    "Goodbye son." was all she said, giving me one last hug, Father joining in.

    "Don't worry, we'll pop in from time to time." Father said "We have a lot of parental bonding to catch up on."

    The both of them took a step back and waved us goodbye, disappearing in an ethereal light.

    Evian hopped back up on to my shoulder and perched himself like he was a parrot on a pirate's shoulder. I didn't give him a glare or brush him off, didn't want to kill the moment.

    Finn put a hand on my free shoulder and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

    "Who wants tacos at the M&M?" He asked jovially "All these heartfelt reunions and talk of quests works up the appetite."

    "One shouldn't start a quest on an empty stomach, dear." Saoirse added helpfully.

    "I could eat." I told them, not worrying about the small smile on my face.

    We bid our goodbyes to Reeve and his apprentice and made the short walk to the market in silence. When we got to the market Lily was waiting just outside, her face growing a determined smile when she saw me. She opened the door for Finn & Saoirse to walk inside and stopped me before I could walk in after them. She locked eyes with me and said;

    "Man, have I got something to show you."
     
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    • Walt's Character Sheet & Relic
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    • Since I forgot to do this when I dropped 2.6 here's Walt's starting Legend 1 character sheet. Gonna run down his abilities and relic like I did with Lily, although since I went over the specifics of stats and what they mean with her this will be a much shorter piece. Although I will reiterate; I am using a house rule that gives both Boons from the Scion's Pantheon Signature Purview and two of their Innate Purview's Boons for free rather than just choosing two total.



    BE WARNED! Minor spoilers are in his Paths but it's kinda transparent and on theme so it's not entirely a spoiler, but still erring on the side of caution and letting you all know now.



    Once again I am foiled by QQ's thing about linking imgur images. So here it is in link form. Page 1


    I am going to just come out and say this: Building Walt as a Scion was a royal poin in the ass. I knew what his shtick was, I knew what stats would suit him, but goddamn his Paths, first Legendary Title, Knacks, Relics, and Purviews were a bitch. But eventually I slammed my head into the wall enough times to figure him out.



    Let's start from the top and work our way down as per usual;



    The keen eyed among you may notice that his Athletics specialty is equestrianism, normally horse riding is under the pilot skill in Scion (for some reason) but I'm house ruling it as athletics purely because it makes more sense for riding an animal to be an athletic action rather than a mechanical action (at least to me). Walt is a rough and tumble kid and did get into fights with people back home in Wyoming, mostly started by others and thus his Hand-To-Hand specialty. He did a lot of shooting with his Grandfather and went on hunts with him, but he was more a marksman than an outdoorsman and prefers the six gun hence his predilection for revolvers. His Integrity is high by nature of him being the most stubborn SOB you will meet and nobody barring adults he actually respects and defers to (his grandparents or parents) he will ignore anybody telling him otherwise, luckily this has helped him hone an Iron Will as his Integrity specialty. His other skills are all just what I thought that he'd dabble in and thus went with that.



    Walt's attribute spread was a lot easier he is a Physical Primary with his favored approach being Resilience, with Mental being his secondary and Social his tertiary. His best two stats; Composure and Dex. Nothing outwardly phases him and his draw is fucking fast, not a slow bastard by any stretch either. He is average intelligence, not the most clever person, and if not for being a juggernaut of a dude he would blend in to the background, he's also not one for lying.



    His Title actually came from this reply early on;



    TSBasilisk said:
    The word that really comes to mind for me with him is inexorable - he's slow to start moving, but one he has a goal he won't stop.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...



    Thanks TSBasilisk!



    His paths kind of speak for themselves, but his Pantheon path is a minor spoiler. When all is said and done, Walt will be the Seelie Court's personal bounty hunter, fae that are causing a ruckus amongst the mortals will be brought before Dawn (as Titania) after Walt drags them kicking and screaming to her court. Granted he will have to work up to the Big Fellas. According to a friend of mine who read Dresden Files this sounded a lot like the Summer Knight. So a bit of serendipity has given him a nice hook.



    Page 2 godammit


    Originally Walt was going to be super gimped, basically the demigod equivalent of a mule. Since he was the child of two seperate pantheons, he would have access to neither PSP but still have the downsides of the innates of both (He would know how he dies but not the context and he'd be under Geas but gain no Momentum from it) this would have been a massive overcorrection so I just had him do the thing they suggested you do with a Scion of two deities in 1e with the Deva write up; take the purviews of one and the callings of the other.



    Callings; Walt is primarily a Hunter with him just barely dipping his toes into the Warrior and Guardian callings.



    Apex Predator - If Walt's target attacks him or tries to counter hunt him and his target is a lower tier than him (so Mortals atm) have a more difficult time actually doing anything to him, if the target is his quarry than the difficulty is even greater



    Keen Eyed Predator - You know those scenes in westerns or in an action movie where the hero walks into a seemingly empty location, keeps walking, and instinctively knows about the dudes about to blast him away? This knack gives Walt that power. Mechanically its a knack skill roll and the player would be able to ask the Storyteller the amount of successes he rolled in questions. The example questions in the book are "What kinds of hazards are present, where is the closest exit, whats the safest way in, how many hostiles" etc



    Most Dangerous Prey - Remember how Apex Predator had quarry in italics? Thats because of this knack. This knack lets Walt choose an enemy to be his Quarry and he gets enhancement to all rolls against them until they are caught by him (or the end of the session whichever comes first but this aint a tabletop gaming session so it's not likely to end that way). This knack grants Walt to special stunts; Stalk (make another movement after resolving an attack) or Snare (trap the target in place)



    Hunter knacks are perfect for making a Dead By Daylight Killer btw.



    Trick Shot is Walt's only Warrior knack at the moment and it was chosen solely because its such a cowboy knack. If Walt decides to walk the path of Revolver Ocelot and do some wicked gunplay than the difficulty instead becomes enhancement. THATS RIGHT HE SHOOTS BETTER WHEN HE DICKS AROUND!



    A Sentinel is a fun little Guardian knack; Walt guards either a person or a group of trivials (i.e. a bunch of random passersby Walt doesn't personally know) as his charge and thus gets better at defending and they get better at defending (themselves) while Walt gets enhancement to keeping track of and defending his charge(es)



    PURVIEWS!



    Walt's Pantheon Signature Purview is Geasa. The innate is that he's under Geis and thus gains momentum whenever obeying it causes trouble. Walt's geas is "You must face any evil in front of you". Its boons; Lay Geis and Tongue of the Bard.



    Lay Geis allows him to put someone under a geis of their own at the cost of a point of legend (which comes back if the geis is ever broken) with the only limitation being that the person under geis must be able to uphold it immedietly when the geis is placed on them, which means banning someone from wearing red while they're wearing red wouldn't work since the person is wearing red.



    Tounge of the Bard is a fun one; by imbuing Legend, Walt speaks the truthful answer of a question he asks (the Storyteller) either in an impassioned speech or a rhyme and gets Enhancement 3 to any action that benefits from it. I can't wait to use this!



    Walt's innate purview is a conversion of the 1e purview of Epic Perception (they gave this as an example in Mysteries of the World for doing so) and it was chosen purely because I couldn't think of anything to give him until I already wrote 2.1 and at this point im committed to it. The innate power is that he is immune to all mundane forms of surprise and thus gets to act in a surprise round, unless the surprise comes form a supernatural (or parahuman) source which means he'd have to roll a clash of wills (NARRATIVE TENSION FOR THE WIN!) which means he could get jumped.



    The boon Predatory Focus gives enhancement to all attack rolls so long as Walt only attacks a character he specifies. It's the "LET's FUCK UP THIS GUY IN PARTICULAR" power, if he attacks someone else the boon ends.



    Third Eye. It's essentially a max level Detect Magic/Scouter supernatural edition at the cost of imbuing legend. Basically magical things come up with a halo of light around them, the brighter the halo the stronger the magic (and the higher the legend if they have one) it also grants enhancement to see through magical illusions.



    Epic Stamina I covered with Lily, but Walt has Unbreakable as a boon instead. Unbreakable is a reflexive action, if someone tries to damage Walt then he can spend a point of Legend to negate it, alternatively he can do this counter to negate a debilitating injury or loss of physical ability (losing a limb or breaking his spine)



    Fortune! The one I haven't covered. Fortune's innate; Cowboy here can sense the presence of Fatebindings, and if he meets the other half of a Fatebinding he knows of he can tell that two people are bound together. He can also sense when Prophets and Sorcerers manipulate Fate with their abilities even if they normally wouldn't be able to be perceived. This purview is tied to his guide, Evian. Fluff wise that means that buddy cat is teaching him this shit. God help his sanity.



    RELICS!



    I went over The Fool Binder in an earlier threadmarked informational post, it's a fae shot revolver that can bank shots accurately. His back tat channels the powers of epic stamina and epic dex, not much. If he gets skinned (easier than you'd think with Scions) that counts as his relic no longer being on his person. His armor is The Mantle of Midsummer, it is the uniform for the Knight of Midsummer (totally not the Summer Knight) and is a bulletproof duster that he can call forth from his belt buckle.



    We all know about Evian. But did you know his full name and title? Sir Evian of Beantown, Knight of the Noble House of Fiona, First and Only Familiar of The Goddess Dawn, First and Only Familiar of Walt Connolly. Evian is the best study buddy and best magic teacher you could have, however he is a chatty bastard.



    AND THUS THE SHEET OVERVIEW IS OVER! ENJOY THYSELVES!



    Next up is Donnie's chapter and then we get his nifty stuff out of the way. Luckily he hast more Knacks than Birthrights.
     
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    • Taylor

    01/12/11​

    When I came to, I heard my mother's humming more clearly and felt a gentle hand running through my hair. That humming and now the hand thing, Mom would do that when I was really young after particularly bad nightmares. Not unlike the one I'd just lived through. Despite being awake I didn't dare open my eyes, not after having dreams like this before. I knew how this would go if I did; either my mother wouldn't be there or she would be leaving me. You would think that small bit of rekindled confidence from meeting Walt, Lily, and Donnie would have been enough to take a leap of faith on this. You would be wrong.

    I just laid there, trying not to open my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, trying not to hope.

    I don't know how long I was forcing myself, could have been second, could have been hours, but soon the humming and the gentle hand in my hair stopped. I felt tears starting to form, my breath catching in my throat, all fearing the worst part of dreams like this.

    "Shh. It's alright my little owl…"

    My mother never speaks in dreams like this. My eyes shot open, my mother was smiling over me.

    Good fucking god. This chapter. It's only 200 words, I apologize, but fucking A this took like 8 rewrites. I am so sorry. I've felt like slamming my head through a wall and if I don't post something I will lose what little momentum I have.
     
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    • Walt

    01/12/11​

    The afternoon sun reflected on the snow covered park Lily led me to. It was rather small, just a simple slide, monkey bars, and a swing set all surrounded by benches. Not a soul to be found aside from the two of us. Lily was pacing in front of a bench shielded from the snow by a lone tree, wringing her hands nervously. The scent of cherry blossoms in bloom was in the air, and I could hear the roar of the waves despite being so far inland and in the middle of winter. I chocked it up to my new powers.

    "Umm…" Lily sat down on the edge of the bench trying to look me in the eye but failing "I really don't know how to say this…"

    "Out with it." I was not going to sit through forty minutes of awkward silence, especially now.

    Lily tensed up, her face cringing. She took a deep breath and then finally managed to look me in the eye.

    "I'mthereincarnationofashintogoddessandIbrokeintoWinslowandmadesomecopiesofschooldocumentsthatmighthelpfindwhodidthattoher!"

    To her credit she wasn't gasping for breath by the end of that, but the look on her told me that she was worried about my response. As if I could actually understand any of that word salad.

    "Care to repeat that a bit more slowly?"

    Lily nodded her head slowly.

    "I just found out that I'm the reincarnation of Amaterasu, the head goddess of Shintoism…"

    To be completely honest, I had zero room to dispute her claim and just accepted it at face value. Rather than asking questions I really did not care enough to know the answer to I simply nodded and beckoned her to continue, not outwardly reacting to that revelation.

    "…I also broke into Winslow's office, I wanted to help find Taylor's attacker so I went into the office to make some copies of whatever documents seemed like they could help track down the culprit and I took photos of the locker…"

    I'm going to be completely honest when I say that I am somewhat tech illiterate and that I've never owned a cell phone. If it were me, my investigative efforts would have been stopped short or I would have taken the original documents. which no doubt would have hurt the chances of bringing the monster that attacked Taylor to justice more than anything. As much as I don't want to admit it, I can't do this on my own. Not without severe consequence.

    "Lily." She looked to me, she seemed to be bracing for impact. "You did good."

    She was taken aback by that.

    "You're not gonna say I'm crazy? Not gonna say I was being reckless?"

    Odds are she was a scion like me and it really didn't matter to me who or what she was the scion of. I shrugged my shoulders and said

    "You've probably noticed a few things out of the ordinary already and I'm not exactly a mere mortal myself apparently."

    Lily's worry was gone and her usual sunny disposition rose again.

    "You're one of the Tuatha Dé Danann." Before I could react she had moved closer than I was comfortable (read: within arms length) and gave me a glimpse into her eyes shining with sincerity "Don't worry, there isn't some weird divine turf war going on that you have to hide it."

    I turned my head away from her and tried to tilt a hat that wasn't on my head over my eyes. Something about that sincerity disturbed me to be honest, almost felt like guilt.

    "What'd you find?" I growled out, trying not to look at Lily's soul boring gaze.

    Lily ran me through what she found; incident reports, some photos of the bathroom I was stabbed in and the locker. She showed me the digital copies on her phone, letting me read through it all. Two names stood out the most; Madison C. and Emma B. Taylor mentioned an Emma the day we met, and the Madison with the guilty conscience was probably the same Madison C in these reports.

    "I don't suppose you found their addresses?"

    Lily shook her head

    "Sorry" Before I could respond, Lily moved uncomfortably close with a grin from ear to ear. "But if my assumptions on these girls is correct, then we may just have enough to get all the deets on them!"

    Lily's nose was dangerously close to my chin and I leaned back as far as comfortable to avoid the contact.

    "How?" was all I could ask before she grabbed both sides of my unzipped jacket collar and brought us forehead to forehead, my every instinct begging me to break this contact and regain the safety of distance.

    "Girls like that share everything to their public social media profiles." Lily backed away and began fiddling with her phone "The music they listen to, the clothes they buy at the mall, what they just had for lunch. All tied to their real names."

    She handed me her phone, a familiar face was on the screen.

    "This our mystery girl?" she asked me. I nodded and got to learning about the girl behind the guilt.

    Miss Clements' social media profile was rather open; in-between the photos and videos of her with her friends hanging out were photos and videos of them bullying Taylor. If one friend wasn't in the video, they would be writing comments egging them on or encouraging something far more heinous for the next time. The posse seemed to number between five to seven, many of them in some position of social or financial status as far as high school politics went; cheerleaders, athletes, high achievers, one of them was the treasurer for the student government.

    After a bit more digging we found Emma B. Emma Barnes. A junior model for a local agency, father is a divorce attorney, mother is a homemaker, elder sister is in university. She had the most venom in her comments and the most aggression in the videos that featured her. If she wasn't the ringleader, I'd give up wearing my cattleman. There was someone who didn't have a social media presence that did show up in some of the videos however; Rhodes' stalker.

    I pointed her out

    "Does this girl show up in the others' friend list?"

    Lily hummed and started searching, her taps and swipes seemed to blur across her screen.

    "No. If she does have one it's probably set to private or she doesn't put her face to it." she said with a grimace "Still, we have a lead and as good detectives we should follow it to its end."

    I felt a smile creep up on my face, glad we were actually about to do something.

    "You're goddamn right."

    Lily chuckled

    "So you can make jokes!" She clapped me on the shoulder and I winced at the surprising amount of force behind it "We should stop by your grandparent's shop first, pick up your cowboy hat, grab your gatitio and your vaquero, and then we can take my moped over to this loca's house!"

    "Do you just mentally flip a coin to see if you're going to pepper Japanese or Spanish into your sentence? Better question; why are we grabbing the cat?"

    Lily skipped ahead as she spoke "Eh kinda, just flexing the trilingual muscles. And your cat left paw prints where you got stabbed, figured he was magic. He a guide from your patron or something?"

    "Unfortunately."

    Lily laughed heartily and began running and shouted "Try to keep up cowboy!"

    I quickly caught up and matched pace with her and we made it to the music shop without either of us being winded. Once inside, Evian was sitting on the counter with a bewildered look on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something before spotting Lily.

    "She's a scion, you can talk." I told him.

    Evian let out a sigh and pointed to the break room.

    "Donnie's in the back and has your hat."

    Evian said more but I didn't listen, I was already moving to the back room determined to get my hat back. I opened the door with a scowl and ready to jab Rhodes in the face.

    Spinning to face me in a swivel chair that was not in the room earlier today, was Rhodes in his usual overpriced suit, my hat on his head, and a startled rooster with feathers more the color of blonde hair and with plumage evoking a bowl cut around its head somehow.

    The strange sight halted my plans and I could do nothing but stare at the chicken.

    "Wally we have an issue and it involves this chicken."

    There was only one appropriate response to such an outlandish statement;

    "I'm sorry, what?"


    FIRST OFF I WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGISE FOR THE WAIT! So much shit has happened between this chapter and the last one. I started playing Apex (big mistake), I started working 6 days a week 8 hours a day because of one of my coworkers quitting, and that was hell. I've been trying to get my car in order so I can get a better job and eventually move out of state to someplace cheaper. Whole heep of shit. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and this time Donnie's chapter ACTUALLY IS NEXT CHAPTER. Hopefully it doesn't take another two and a half months to crank out this time...
     
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    • Donnie

    01/11/11
    ​
    I had woken up at around nine in the morning and my entire morning ritual was fucked for it, orobably had something to do with me not being able to sleep or something. I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a plain white tee and some jeans I had bought second-hand, didn't see the point in dressing up. What didn't help was this discomfort that came out of nowhere. Allow me to elaborate; ever since yesterday I've felt as if something drastic had changed in the air. As if there were a thin string around my neck attempting to strangle me. I had thought I had felt it when I fried the Vromeros and its compadres but it didn't feel like this. No, the sensation in the alley was the string being tied in the first place and only now did I feel its snare. Let me tell ya, it's fucking annoying.

    Shuffling down into the penthouse living room, or whatever architects call them, I saw my dad going over something with a bunch of blue collar gents. Pops turned over to me and smiled a bit wider.

    "Morning son, casual Tuesday?"

    I just did the teenager-who-just-woke-up thing of shrugging and then zombied my way to the kitchen for some plain oatmeal and water. No orange juice today, didn't feel like treating myself. Pops came over and sat next to me while I waited for the oatmeal to cook.

    "Moving day today." He said matter of factly

    "That's today?" I asked

    "Yeah. Movers are here to pack everything up. Best ones I could find."

    I just nodded and started on my now finished oatmeal.

    "Once you're done with your breakfast I'm going to need you to run an errand for me."

    Ah. Ever since I was thirteen my dad's been trying to get me out of the house more rather than just sitting around moping or practicing. So Pops and I have built up this long list of code phrases and responses for when he wants to trick me out of the house. That's his code for "Son, I love you, please get out of the house". I mean I fell for them at first, but every time he's done this it usually works out for the best so I just went along with it anyway.

    With plain oatmeal and all of its comforting blandness in my mouth I asked "What'd you need?"

    That's my code for "I don't want to and I have no plans, where should I go?"

    "I don't believe you've checked out Lord Street Market yet. Nice greasy spoon burger joint called Fugly Bob's on the edge of it. Pick out a housewarming gift and then treat yourself to some lunch."

    Pops slid me thirty dollars and then got back to the movers. This wasn't code or anything, just some pocket change I guess.

    Breakfast sped on by with nothing else interesting happening, at least to me. Actually I think dad got a call from Gramps or maybe uncle E. I honestly wasn't paying attention to what phone he answered with and couldn't really be asked to care. Regardless, after breakfast I had to skedaddle. I didn't really have the energy to ride my fixie so I just hailed a cab and we made it to there with thankfully little conversation.

    When I got out of the cab I was thoroughly underwhelmed. I don't know where a bunch of cheap plastic folding tables in plywood stalls on dying grass ever counted as a market but apparently Brockton Bay decided to lean into ghetto swap meet chic. Bootleg DVDs, cape merchandise, hippy arts and crafts, and all manner of nick-knacks dotted the stalls. By Kronos' severed scrotum, this place is fucking boring! I'd rather deal with creepy chick from yesterday than mill around this dump!

    And as soon as I thought that, it happened. I turned a corner and bumped into a girl walking way too fast for a leisurely stroll around the market. A girl who was probably my age, stomping around a market, on a tuesday, during school hours. Yeah, totally not weird.

    "Watch it ass-" the girl looked up at me, her face shifted from scowl to awe "-hole…"

    You know that part in romcoms where the edges of the screen blurs, the cheesy romantic slow jam kicks in, and the heart frames whatever lad or lass has her heart pining for? Yeah, lil miss frizzy haired athletic girl has that. Meanwhile I've got Marlon Wayans shouting the ever so iconic "RUN BITCH, RUN!" in my ear. Frizzy Creepy Chick started biting her lip, playing with her hair, and cycling through every other sign of infatuation. It'd be charming and cute if I was in the mood for theatrics. I tried to think of something, anything really, to get me out of this situation that didn't involve me outing myself as more than human. I sincerely doubt calling down a lightning bolt in the middle of a cloudless day to hit one person would be a good idea.

    The stalls might catch fire if she survives the initial bolt after all.

    While I was trying to come up with an excuse other than potential property damage and murder, the FCC was opening and closing her mouth while expelling air. I think she was trying to communicate.

    "Uh, so-sorry." Was what I translated the FCC's Vocal Chord Vibrations as.

    I tried to back away slowly from the potentially volatile specimen but sadly there was some poor bastard's vegan gift basket stand in the way of my escape. I gave the hippie bastard the most angry glare I could before putting on the most polite "please leave me alone" look I could muster.

    "I really should have looked where I was going." Oh good, FCC got the stuttering phase out of the way.

    Thinking fast I replied with a "Shit happens, no worries, I'll just be off then." and attempted to walk past her.

    Sadly she was far stronger than she looked and decided to lean into me and grab my shoulder. I think she was trying to be a swooning girl or something but hot damn did she have my shoulder in a vice grip. I don't think she understands the concept of gentle.

    "Please, let me make it up to you."

    I hoped that she wouldn't, because if this was how good her grip was I didn't want her hands anywhere near any other part of me. I tried to pry her hand off my shoulder and move away from the table, only for her to take my hand and pull it to her chest and pull herself along my path.

    "I don't even know you, it's fine-" I was panicking at that point, that weird look in her eyes was not helping!

    "My name's Sophia." she breathed out. I could easily guess that she lacked her namesake.

    "Greek for wisdom. Nice." I got my hand out of her chest and started scooting away, she followed me like a cat about to chow down on a crippled mouse. What is it about me that attracts clingy chicks?

    "So you know Greek?"

    Gods damn it.

    I looked around frantically, hoping that I could spy something that would get me out of this shit. Verbally insulting her would only bring about extremely painful, for me, results. This wasn't like whatsherface the ginger from last month who would be stunned long enough for me to leave on my fixie, this psycho would probably chop me up and bake me into a pie and serve it to her neighbors.

    "Yeah, a little." Bullshit I was fluent.

    "I've been thinking of picking up a new language myself-"

    Gods fucking damn it

    "Kinda have a full schedule." HAH! Perfect out I though of.

    Sophia the Pyscho went from smily and infatuated to poorly disguised anger

    "That thing with your friend right?"

    Oh good she remembered. This was a great out after all!

    She pointed at a burger joint, big sign that said "Fugly Bob's" above it. Oh hey, that's the joint Pops mentioned…

    Oh crap.

    "Wanna talk about it over food? my treat." she said, trying to sound comforting and failing.

    Before I could even reply she had a follow up; "My mom likes to say that talking with someone about stuff that's bothering you helps."

    Did she also teach you her "How to cook handsome as fuck boys who think you're crazy into a pie" recipe? I bet she did. Probably a crazy ass like you.

    "Uhh…"

    "Great! The burgers there aren't half bad. Thick enough to be cooked rare and juicy just the way I like 'em!"

    Oh great she likes em bloody.

    She dragged my skinny ass all the way down the road. I was trying to tell the local peasantry that I was distressed with my eyes, sadly these simple fools could not read my eyes for they just looked at us like we were a fine example of young love.

    OK, not all of them there was a guy who just shook his head in shame at me as we walked past him. But that's besides the point. Stupid pasty ripped dude. Fuck you, that dumb ass tiger statue you bought, and your bitch ass boyfriend with the shitty tattoos.

    When we got in the burger joint I only had one play left.

    "Listen, Sophia?" I said "Before we order, I'm gonna use the bathroom ok?"

    She pouted but let go of my arm.

    "Knock yourself out." She nodded over to it, down a short hallway away from the front door. Not a good sign but hopefully there'd be a window I could climb through or fly out of.

    I calmly strutted down in there and closed the door, locking the deadbolt and the button lock.

    I let out a heavy sigh and looked around. No window. Just three bathroom stalls, three urinals, and some poor bastard panic shitting in the handicapped stall. I looked at the ceiling, trying to find a vent or something that I could get into. I saw one, and noted that it was welded shut.

    Who the fuck welds shut a vent?

    I had a last ditch gamble, but that would require me to get a different shirt.

    Right on cue, the handicap stall door burst open and Mr. Panic Shits rushed over to the sink and got to work washing his hands. Blonde hair, blue eyes, kinda pudgy in a "I don't do much" way rather than being a fatass. His hair was in a god awful bowl cut. He was shorter than me but that wasn't going to be an issue. Height was a mutable concept after all. His clothes seemed nondescript enough for what I was planning especially that generic enough looking jacket.

    I was going to pay him for his coat, but he quickly washed and dried his hands before rushing face first into the bathroom door, the shock of it sending him to the floor.

    I let out a chuckle and applauded his slapstick routine

    "Why is that door locked?" he groaned out, his hands covering his nose.

    "Cause I locked it." I told him, a genuine smile growing on my face.

    I held out my hand to help him up.

    "Donnie Rhodes the Third." I told him

    He reached out with his now bloody hand "Greg Veder."

    I paid it no mind and helped him up. "Nice to meet 'cha Greg."

    When we got out hands back I rinsed off the blood.

    "Got in here to see if I could shake a clingy crazy chick." I explained to him "What's go you in a rush?"

    "Girl I go to school was getting bullied by some popular girls, one of those girls grew a conscience and sent me all the evidence she had in case something happened to her Well she didn't turn up at school, she isn't answering any of my DMs on PHO, her Nymphstagram hasn't been updated since last week, nothing on Facebook, Agni, nothing.." He blurted out. Greg leaned against one of the bathroom walls and slid down to the floor to sit "That girl they were bullying, something really bad happened and then it kind of just clicked. They found out that she was going to come forward, they shut her up somehow, and either they found out she sent all that stuff to me or she blabbed when they got her and the craziest out of all of them is after me."

    I got the gist, kinda sounded like Sophie the Psycho outside.

    "Small world, I came in and locked the door to shake a psycho girl myself."

    "Yeah. Now we're both stuck hiding in a bathroom." Greg chuckled out "What's your crazy's name?"

    "Sophia." I answered honestly, no point in lying.

    Greg's face tweaked and he just gave me the verbal equivalent of a dial tone.

    Never a good sign.

    "Black girl, athletic, got her hair in ponytail kind of?"

    Apt description but I needed more

    "Resting bitch face coupled with the inability to express human emotion that didn't involve scowling or being angry?" I offered.

    Greg nodded and continued "Scary beyond all reason?"

    "I'd say creepy, but yeah beyond all reason."

    It was at that moment that we formed a brotherhood of being stalked by a singular psycho bitch. The Bitches Be Crazy Brotherhood. We should have gotten t-shirts.

    "Damn." He chuckled out. "What did you do to get on her shit list?"

    I shook my head. "I think she's got a crush on me and hasn't noticed that I think she's crazy as fuck."

    "Say no more. I understand now."

    We stood there in silent contemplation, trying to figure out a way past the psycho at the doorstep for what felt like hours but was probably only a minute and a half. Growing bored with the thinking I asked Greg what Psycho Sophie did to that girl from his school.

    "They shoved that girl into a locker full of nasty shit. They fucking shoved her into a locker for seven fucking hours." Greg's hands were tightened into a fist. "Took some new kid coming out of his own first day stabbing to grab a pair of bolt cutters to get the lock off and get her out."

    The smile left my face. Blood was pounding into my ears. I could feel my blood getting ice cold.

    "Greg. What were you planning on doing with the information you've gotten your hands on?"

    Greg looked confused and then cautious

    "If I could shake Sophia? I was going to take it to the cops."

    Good on Greg, he sounded like he was about to sack the fuck up for the first time in his life.

    "Greg. You just made my day." My smile returned "We're going to get the hell out of here and we are going to get that info to the cops."

    Greg beamed

    "Dude, that's awesome! But how?"

    "I have a plan now. All I need is one thing from you."

    Greg nodded confidently, psyching himself up.

    "Anything."

    "Sweet!" I clapped "Hand me your jacket real quick."

    He did so and I put it on.

    "Alright now what?" he asked me "Hit me."

    Ignoring the poor choice of words, I put on his jacket and rubbed my hands together. Feeling the divine ichor in my blood start warming up.

    "This might tickle."

    "Wait what?"

    I felt the Sky flow from my fingers and into Greg, merging his clothes into his skin as he shrank and shifted. Within two seconds, Greg Veder went from a teenage boy with a bowl cut to a golden chicken…

    Also with a bowl cut. Yay for the good old Theoi Metamorphosis trick.

    While Chicken Greg started panicking and clucking around, I got to work on myself. Looking into the grafitted and scratched mirror, I started tweaking my face. A little more length, a bushy moustache, some gray hairs, longer teeth. All hand sculpted with help of the divine power within me. Finally I shrank and sucked in myself to be able to fit inside Greg's jacket better.

    "Don't you worry Greg, it's only until we can get out of this shit situation."

    I leaned down and opened my arms widely and tested out a vaguely Swedish accent "Now come to papa Rolf and ve vill get out of vis playce!"

    Greg got to panicking more and it took me about five minutes to get him to calm down and go with it. Granted he did start pecking at me every so often as I fine tuned my accent. When I was ready to go, I unlocked the doors and walked out, Chicken Greg pecking at me while clucking angrily.

    As I walked past the very confused Sophia the soon to be jailed Psycho I nodded to her and said "He so friendly chicken yes?" as I hugged Chicken Greg to my chest.

    I got to walking and turned a corner into an alley once I thought we reached minimum safe distance.

    I let my body and voice rubber band back to normal and got to work trying to get the ichor flowing to change Greg back.

    "See Greg? What'd I tell you?"

    Chicken Greg was the angriest chicken alive right at that moment.

    "Now hold still, this might tickle."

    I got the ichor flowing and willed the Sky out of Greg.

    And there was still Chicken Greg in front of me.

    I tried again, feeling the ichor flow and willing the Sky out of Greg.

    Nothing.

    "Greg." I told him, as he was attempting to fire a Poultry Optic Blast into my soul. "We might have a slight problem..."

    Good god this took way too long. Me playing Final Fantasy XIV after shitty days of work didn't help but hey. After two weeks and so many cans of monster to fuel me this new chapter is done. Donnie's character sheet soon to follow. Please let me know if I put in any typos and tell me what ya think. Have a good one.
     
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