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Band (Worm/Scion)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by BrotherMouse518, Jul 26, 2020.

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  1. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    I mean her armor is based on best doG. Yeah, Lily is a bit of a spaz. Glad you're liking the ride
     
    Assblaster5000 likes this.
  2. Threadmarks: Bend & Break 2.6
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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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.”
     
  3. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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  4. Assblaster5000

    Assblaster5000 Know what you're doing yet?

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  5. EnygmaSoul

    EnygmaSoul Making the rounds.

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    Mouse, my slight acquaintance, you are far, far too hard on yourself. I enjoyed this chapter just as much as I did the previous ones and am still eagerly anticipating the payoff from all of the excellent establishment and build-up you've been doing. I've not been vocal with feedback because the last time I tried to praise you, you somehow read it as "Donnie is too annoying as a character and I need to start from scratch without him," so I've been wary of triggering another wave of crippling self-doubt unintentionally and limiting myself to clicking 'like'.

    But since crippling self-doubt seems to be surfacing anyway, I have this to say:
    Relax, man. Deep breaths. You're doing fine. You can do this. We, as a community (though I am overreaching a bit claiming this) have faith in you. If you get too frustrated by not meeting your own standards and need to set the story down, or just take a breather, that's fine. But nobody is judging you anywhere as harshly as you seem to be judging yourself, and I hope saying that can help you find the resolve to press on.
     
  6. Extras: Walt's Character Sheet & Relic
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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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;





    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.
     
    Last edited: Mar 4, 2021
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  7. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    I fixed the imgur link problem on the previous post. While I'm posting this, what do you guys think of the fic so far and are the character sheets ok? Like they're not busted or annoying to read through are they?
     
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  8. Assblaster5000

    Assblaster5000 Know what you're doing yet?

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    I can't say much about the character sheets due to a lack of experience (even D&D ones barely make sense to me), but they aren't annoying to read through, no.

    As to how the story's been so far I'd say EnygmaSoul said everything that needs to be said, you've done fine and we, your ever loyal readers, happily await whatever wonderful works you see fit to unleash upon us.
     
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  9. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    Thanks. Working on outlining 2.7 (Donnie's Day Out) and wanted to take a bit of a litmus of how things are going mainly to see what I could improve or whatever. I want to write an entertaining story, maybe even get a TV Tropes page in the process, and make a story that feels satisfying to read.
     
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  10. Threadmarks: Bend & Break 2.7
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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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.
     
  11. Coily boi

    Coily boi Assume everything I write is half-dead

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    You tried. party horn noise.
     
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  12. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    Ty
     
  13. Assblaster5000

    Assblaster5000 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Yeah! Update! Right as the WTR thread is going to shit too!

    Nice to get a moment of brevity from that, so thanks Mouse.
     
  14. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    WTR? What is that?
     
  15. Assblaster5000

    Assblaster5000 Know what you're doing yet?

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    With This Ring, the orange lantern SI that Zoat's been writing for the better part of a decade by now.
     
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  16. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Spastic Mouse

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    Oh! yeah, I read some of that. Man I read some of that back in high school. I think Zoat's liked a couple of the chapters. I honestly don't know why. Whenever someone who's written a fanfic I read (and the majority of them are FAAAR better than my cringe) likes one of my posts I ask myself "Why?"
     
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  17. Jaykko mimmzy

    Jaykko mimmzy Making the rounds.

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    In story some of Nilbog’s creatures rapidly reproduce exposed to fire. And that would be reported by Lady/Piggot in her debrief. There’s no good answer for what happened beyond the fanon belief of Cauldron decided Nilbog should be kept alive to fight Scion like so many other psychopaths and monsters they kept running around.
     
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