Band (Worm/Scion)

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.

Spoiler: Author's Note

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.

 

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.

 

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.

Spoiler: Author's Note

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.

Spoiler: Homebrew

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.

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►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.

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♦ 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)
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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.

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Just a little something for you guys that I shot off the top of my head. Have a good day!