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Band (Worm/Scion)

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

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  1. ArcaneReader

    ArcaneReader Master Of The Arcane (Not)

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    Lewds are nice and all but as long as theres fluffy Romance I couldn't give a shit about them. Fyi I have no idea what the crossover is but fuck if I care this is awesome!
     
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  2. Extras: About Scion
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Glad you're enjoying it! While you won't need to know anything about the scion side of things (i plan on expositing when natural and necessary) Heres a quick rundown;

    Scion is a tabletop RPG published by White Wolf Publishing (1st Edition) and Onyx Path Publishing (2nd Edition) where you play as the children (or from 2nd Ed on; Chosen and Created) of the gods. Which Gods? WHICHEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT!

    (at least if youre willing to homebrew or look for it)

    In actuality, the base game in 1st ed comes with;
    Greek Gods (Dodekatheon in 1e, Theoi in 2e)
    Norse Gods (Aesir in both)
    Japanese Gods (Just Kami in 1e, Amatsukami in 2e)
    Voodoo Gods (The Loa)
    Egyptian Gods (The Netjer)
    Aztec Gods (....i'll go back and edit the names in i keep forgetting either version)

    The Scion Companion added;
    The Tuatha De Daanan (THE CELTIC GODS!)
    The Chinese Gods (Celestial Beauracracy in 1e, The Shen in 2e
    The Hindu Gods (The Devas)

    With a digital addition of the Persian gods (The Yazata) later

    2nd Ed added the Yoruba gods and the Algonquin Manitou and more to come.

    So now you can essentially do Percy Jackson, God Of War, American Gods, and various other shit like that with your friends! The prepackaged metaplot and setting varies across editions

    1e; The Titans (which in this are the primordial forces of creation and entire realms that take on Avatars to give themselves context) are breaking free and their servants are starting to reak havoc across the world. Are you a bad enough dude to kick their asses and eventually become a full god and kick the Titans' asses?

    2e; All myths and legends are true even if they contradict each other, the gods are active and shit, and yet the world is 99% like ours and despite divine intervention being a thing [INSERT AUTHOR'S PET ISSUE OR GRIPE WITH HISTORY HERE] still happened and magic shit happens i guess.

    yeah we toss out 2e's metaplot out the window in favor of 1e or make our own.

    Great game, 10/10 would recommend. 1st ed is fun but a broken mess, 2nd ed iz fun but has shit metaplot and requires you to make up a lotta shit on your own and some people dont like or want to do that.
     
  3. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Just a quick warning to all of you; the next chapter is coming out either tonight or tomorrow. I don't know why, but the direction its going seems to be on the more surreal end. So I Just want to warn all of you. Things are going to get....


    weird.
     
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  4. Gladiusone

    Gladiusone Experienced.

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    Yeah, I got the first two 2nd Edition books and went, wait, what?
     
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  5. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Partially this is because Onyx Path was going to lose the rights so they had to make something, the other part is a lot of the people who work for White Wolf and Onyx Path are kinda woke in the worst way. It was tolerable in the early 90s when they were being edgy, but now it comes off as preachy at best and offensive at worst.

    Like I said, the fluff of 2e should be tossed out and made anew. Luckily they are addressing this with additional books but to those that backed or paid for it expecting a continuation of 1e were sorely disappointed.

    Fun Fact; my writig process invokves drinking energy drinks, soda, and taking infrequent breaks by playing Enter The Gungeon oj my seitch. I HAVE BOUGHT THIS GAME THRICE AND I WOULD DO IT AGAIN IN A HEARTBEAT.

    So if you see shit from Gungeon at all that's why. Also a lotta my typos and spur of the moment decision making is brought on by liquid stimulants
     
  6. Threadmarks: Origin 1.8
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Shit is about to get slightly graphic and not so slightly weird. Yeah don't say i didn't warn you...

    ɈlɒW

    0Ɩ0ς/0Ɛ/ςƖ

    ob oɈ doį ɒ ɘvɒʜ υoγ

    oɿɈƨnom lɘ ɒɈɒm

    ɿɘɈɒv nɘb ɘɈɈɘɿ

    ɘlliʇ ɒl ɘvυɒƨ

    ɒbɿoɔɘɿ
    The city of Brockton Bay is beautiful today; Sun is shining, city streets are clean, and we’re yet again free of street crime. On top of all that, I just quit my job and The Man no longer has his chains around me! After all, The Brockton Bay Little Owl needs saving!

    I dunno why, I just know I have to. I even got a sleeveless to help support the cause (Can’t go wrong with Save the Little Owl in big bold font!), makes my pink Lennon shades and favorite jeans ensemble complete. Hell, with how clean the streets are I can walk about barefoot and I didn’t need any hat on this fine sunny day!


    I almost stopped when I heard a telephone ringing quite loudly in the distance, I couldn’t though there was something I needed doing.​

    To live in the Jewel of New Hampshire, to be free of work, and on ones way to do a good deed.​

    Can’t say I know why I’m doing it, but I just have to.

    Come to think of it, I don’t believe I know where I’m going. I know the Brockton Little Owl needs saving, but from what and where?​

    Ah! I should ask the authorities, surely they should know!​

    Despite being just the right time for it the park I’m in is almost devoid of people, barring the occasional youngster in their barrel hats and teapot shoes. Clearly on a school trip!​

    It would be sometime before I needed to hurry up and wait for the Brockton Little Owl, but I should still get there early.​

    Try as I might, I found no constable, no fireman, no mailman, no alderman, no manned man, unmanned Mann, or even Manny “The Man” Mann. Not a Man to be found. No Women either. Or is it Woman?​

    It is nine in the afternoon after all, maybe they’re all out to get coffee? What’s a lovely day like this at Nine in Noon without that miracle elixir?​

    But where would a coffee house be at this hour? They have a way of moving about the place after all.​

    Ah! there’s one, coming down the street with its matching legs, marching clocks. A pair of gentlemen in uniform jackets are at the tables in its beak! One BBPD-man name Bubpud and one PRT-man named Purt, if one knows the other shouldn’t, So if there are two of them my odds of education are enhanced!​

    I flag it down with a wooden wave, so lucky I found one on the ground, and it stopped to kick me up to the balcony. How convenient that it would know my destination!​

    The man are turned away, discussing something away from eyeshot and earshot, but not buckshot or birdshot. Lucky for the both of them neither Buck nor Bird are with us.​

    “Pardon me good sirs, good knights of the realm, but might one of you know where I can find The Brockton Little Owl? I’m on my way to save her, but I don’t know the way.”​

    They flipped over their tables in surprise, coming to attention in front of me. Their faces done up in their standard regulatory grooming standard; faces painted white, lips painted in a frown, red noses, and eyes in patterns as to obscure their vision.​


    Purt had smacked Bubpud in the face, Bubpud poked Purt in the eye and began to hoot and holler. First at each-other and then at me​

    Well that’s no way to treat someone on a quest​

    “Pardon me sirs, but could you direct me to where I might find The Brockton Little Owl? She needs saving and I wish to do my part.”​

    Purt stamped his foot on Bubpud, and Bubpud slapped Purt before both honked the other’s nose and waddled off the edge of the coffee house balcony and into an open wo-man-man-wo hole.​

    Hmm. No dice here. No answers either​

    I turned to the coffee house’s insides; no baristas and their bartitsu. Their phone was ringing though, best ignore it. Someone who works should answer it, not someone on a quest.

    I hopped off the balcony to walk towards the beach, after all the Dockfather’s Ferry should be passing by soon!​

    It was a long walk (a whole six seconds!) but I made it to the beach, the bay is clear as always and the view of the ships in the distance with the Ferry bobbing along the bay make such good scene!

    As I sat there and watched the ferry I saw the creatures in the bay; the twin headed snake, the shrinking and growing dragon, the metal man, the speed weed, and all their friends having a wonderful game of tag and flag footfall to my left and the PRT-men making sure to referee badly as were the rules.

    It always struck me as strange that nobody knew what the rules were when they played and seemed to make up rules as they went, especially when they made sense. Everyone knows not to write down rules or for them to make sense. Best for them to contradict, contraindicate, and contract at a moment’s notice less the fun end.

    I could have watched them for longer but I still had to find where I could find the Brockton Little Owl. I dared not ask the creatures of the bay, for they were busy and I shouldn’t be rude.​

    Mayhaps sitting on a bench instead of a rock would help.​

    I hopped up to the boardwalk and found a bench off its break, beckoning I sit.​

    Well it’d be rude to decline after all.​

    The bench made itself more comfortable for me and even offered a shoulder rub, I had to decline however. It would need to be tipped afterwards and I couldn’t spare the silver, The Little Owl might need it for saving after all!​

    As I thought to myself, I heard yet another phone ringing to my right. A Phonebooth was walking my way and opening itself up to me. Must be for me!​

    I thanked the bench, and slid into the booth making sure to pat the phone in thanks.​

    I lifted the receiver to my ear​

    “Ahoy?” I greeted “How can I help?”​

    There was a distraught woman on the other end, weeping, speaking frantically and quietly​

    “Ma’am?” I said “Speak up, I can’t hear you. You’re cutting out.”​

    The woman spoke only slightly louder, and the only things I could make out were;​

    “…Please…help…can’t…find…Little…Owl…”

    It may seem a coherent sentence but there was a hell of a lot more she was trying to say, I swear!​

    Hearing Little Owl, I had to ask her​

    “Ma’am, do you mean The Brockton Little Owl?” I thought to myself that maybe this was the clue I needed​

    “…Please…hurry…orn…will…Little…hurry…” was all I could make out before the line goes dead​

    The line hung itself with a bowline and I lost my smile, this woman clearly wanted to help the Little Owl and was telling me to hurry.​

    I checked my pockets, surely I had written down where I needed to go to save The Little Owl.​

    To my surprise the only thing I had found was a multi-tool, a beautifully made multi-tool.​

    Ah!

    Now I remember why I was going to save the Little Owl!

    I had scared her​

    I didn’t mean to​

    I found something she lost.

    It was broken and I had fixed it for her​

    She gave me this as thanks.​

    When she gave me this something bad happened to her, that’s why I needed to save her!​

    I noticed the sky growing a lot more dim, sadly the glasses would have to go and the booth would need a tip for its help. As I lifted the shades from my eyes, the daylight returned but gone was the clean city I was walking through and the cities were littered with trash of varying sizes!​

    Well, I can’t walk about barefoot through this. I would need my boots, The Smith should have some I think. He had fixed my old pair and all I would need to do is pick it up.​

    I shook the hand of the booth and gave him my shades, I wouldn’t need them, and walked into The Smith’s Smithy
    Hmm…​

    How convenient!​

    As always, the Smith keeps his smithy floor so clean and plush and he is ready at the desk with the grin in his eyes. The Smith was naught more than a walking mass of beard and hair under a cloak of feathers. Only his eyes were truly visible.​

    “Hello Smith!” I called out to him “I need my boots, the streets are now filthy and there is an Owl I need to save!”​

    The Smith nodded to my feet and there were my boots​

    “My thanks Smith.” I tipped my hat to him and returned it to my head​

    Before I went off, I needed to ask him something. With how Wise and Learned he is, surely he could give me directions to the Little Owl.​

    “Smith. Do you know where I might find The Brockton Little Owl?”​

    The Smith’s beard snaked up and pointed its tip towards his back door. I knew he’d be able to help!​

    I walked through the door and closed it behind me, hearing the doorknob suck itself back to the other side.​

    I looked around, hoping I might find the Little Owl, alas all there was; an empty and quite dark convenience store.​

    I say empty, but there was a Lectern under the sole light coming from the sealing. On it, a book with a massive EF on it.​

    Curiosity be a cat that never dies, and I’m particularly fond of the things so naturally I would read a book held in front of me​

    I opened the book, and was greeted by swirling text constantly shifting and changing. It made my eyes water and need blinking, the blinking seemed to make it worse.​

    I forced my eyes open to read the text, now solid​

    REMEMBER”​

    I felt my heart quicken, and I clutched the tool the Owl had given me​

    Remember? Remember what?​

    Wait. Books don’t shift their text, coffee houses don’t wander, this city is a cesspit, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS NINE IN THE AFTERNOON!​

    I’m in Mr. Hebert’s Dream!​

    The book closed itself and I backed away from the lectern. I came here to kill the Algean, the monster that has a hold on Mr. Hebert. Either my own subconscious or Mr. Hebert’s subconscious has been trying to tell me that I was here in the first place. The phones in particular.​

    I let out a sigh, thankful that nobody would witness me acting like such a fool.​

    I thought that the Paired Dreamer’s Charms were supposed to make me lucid for this? I’ve been bumbling around like a damned idiot from the moment I got here.​

    I’ll have to have words with the Cat if I see him again.​

    Now, what to do?​

    This is a dream, normal rules don’t quite apply here.​

    So if I needed to find the Little Owl, then I’d just have to teleport myself there. Shape the dream to my whim.​

    Taylor’s mother called her Little Owl, Little Owl must be dream Taylor. If I’m in Mr. Hebert’s dream then that means that she would be home. I hope so anyway.

    What better place to find her home than from my bedroom?​

    Concentrate Walter, focus on your room. Remember the dimensions, your desk, your bed, your office chair.​

    I closed my eyes and repeated that in my thoughts like a prayer, feeling a strange warp form around me as I did.​

    I opened my eyes and found myself in my bedroom, or rather the closest as I could get it. There was a bookshelf there where I had planned on putting one if I ever found one I could restore or build myself, the linens on my bed where the wrong color, my curtains and window were now a door, and all the furniture was slightly warped.​

    Close enough for government work, and that door looks promising. May as well try it out.​

    Opening the door, revealed an iron and brass bridge leading to a facsimile of the Hebert’s home. What in the waking world was a normal, if shabby and ill taken care of, home was now almost a dilapidated ruin cold and dead, with a mass of writhing black sharpened thorns made from ink and smoke. The only spot untouched on the house was the window to Taylor’s bedroom. From where I stood, I could hear the fluttering of wings and a girl crying for help. I tested the bridge with my foot, making sure it was as it appeared and began inching my way across, halfway through going at a swifter pace.​

    Upon reaching the window I saw a room covered almost completely in white sheets, in the center uncovered was a large birdcage with an owl frantically trying to get free.​

    “Hey.” I called out to her​

    The owl turned her head, then her body towards me. The owl’s feathers were a dark brown almost black, with lighter coloration around her brown not quite human eyes.​

    “Who are you?” she asked in Taylor’s voice​

    “I’m here to get you out of here.” I said as I felt out the window, trying to find a latch or something that would open it. As I did, the thorned vines grew and quickly barred the window, I tested the knife of the multi-tool on one of them and found them too thick to cut.​

    Owl Taylor hung her head and said “The monster that bewitched the Dockfather made these thorns, only by defeating her will these vines wither and die.”​

    In an attempt of not letting some dream get the better of me, I stubbornly kept trying to saw through the vines only to find them becoming thicker and growing more thorns with every attempt.​

    “It won’t work.” Owl Taylor said “You must defeat the monster, break her hold on the Dockfather, only then can I be freed.”​

    I let out a frustrated sigh, so much for that I thought to myself. I looked into the Owl Taylor’s eyes​

    “This monster, she with the Dockfather?” I ask​

    Owl Taylor nodded “Yes, ever since The Rose went missing. This monster keeps the Dockfather locked within the Union House, making him chase false hopes and falsehoods, she makes him drink to more excess than he used to, with every night her power grew until she trapped so many of the Dockfather’s loved ones within their homes to keep them from helping him.”​

    That lines up with what the Encyclopedia Fabula said. I asked her for more information on the Algean​

    “The monster took the form of The Rose to get in close and bewitch him, first she locked out the Dockmen, then me. I have seen her change her shape to threaten those that dared get close.”​

    I looked into the dream version of Taylor’s eyes and swore to her that I would kill the monster and free her and her father. I know it really wasn’t her, nor would she or her father hear those words, but saying it gave me the steel and grit to press on.​

    If I failed, this monster wouldn’t just stop at the Heberts. It would jump from host to host, leaving nothing but the dead and the broken in its wake. I would need every bit of that steel and grit to succeed.​

    “This monster would die tonight, I will make sure of it” I told the Owl before turning to return to my false room, and to make my way downstairs.​

    Opening the door to what would be the second floor and finding it lead to the front porch did not shock me or stall me as I walked, seeing what was in front of the house did.​

    A coat as black as night, mane as white as freshly fallen snow. Saddled and ready to go.​

    Lily Bell, the only thing of my father’s that I had at the Connolly Ranch.​

    I embraced her, and was almost set to weep. Only one tear was shed, becoming ash as I steeled myself once again.​

    “I miss you girl.” I told her “Can you help me tonight?”​

    Lily Bell nuzzled me and turned her neck to push me towards the saddle​

    “Thank you.” was all I could say​

    I placed one foot in the stirrup and kicked off to hop back and mount myself in her saddle. As I did, I felt an old and comforting duster fit itself to my body. I imagine I looked like a proper hero from an old dime novel. I looked out to the bay, seeing the city rotting and now covered in the thorns of the Algean with the most of it centered around the city docks.​

    I spurred Lily Bell on to naturally reach a full gallop, relishing the feeling of riding her once again trying not to think on never being able to do this again once this dream was over.​

    As we rode, I saw the cityscape melt away to hills and valleys dotted with standing pines. With every hoof-beat, more and more of the city was overtaken by the wilderness of Wyoming, only Brockton Bay’s docks were untouched by the frontier taking back its place.​

    What would have taken at least an hour in the waking world took only what felt like mere moments to me and quickly showed me the truth of the Dream Docks; a fortress hearkening to the castles of medieval Britain or France made of conex boxes, derelict ships, broken cranes, and destroyed warehouses. I reined in Lily Bell as we reached the arching gate made from a ship’s bow, not knowing if the creature had the foresight to make defenses.​

    I brought Lily Bell to a forward walk, keeping my eyes keen and aware of my surroundings for any sign of ambush. Contrary to my preferred forms of literature, there were no bandits waiting in the wings to gun me down in the back, no irate Apache, Navajo, or Cheyenne ready to unseat me from Lily Bell and drag me off to do something horrific and too graphic for the dime novel publishers, nor was there anything else of that nature. I’d have been disappointed if it didn’t mean a potential swift end to my task.​

    Once Lily Bell and I reached the doors of the Union House, what would be the castle proper in an actual medieval fortress, a hitching post sprung forth from the ground in a shower of leaves and flora.​

    I dismounted carefully, and gave Lily Bell one last pet before bidding her goodbye and walking in through the opened doors.​

    The Union House’s entrance hall was far grander and taller than it had any right to be, fitting for a man’s dream perception of someplace treasured. The hall itself was made from sheet metal like that of a warehouse and riveted with gold, slowly becoming more tarnished and rusty, as well as covered in the thorns I had seen around the Hebert’s home, as I got closer to the end. As I came closer, I could see the cracked doors to a singular room where the sound of a rather distraught man wailing in grief and a woman soothing him came. I leaned against the wall, and inched the door open a further crack hoping to catch a glimpse of the inside, seeing what looked to be Mr. Hebert in blue robe bedecked with white stars and crescent moons along with the Algean, taking the form of the late Mrs. Hebert partially made from ink and in a white dress stained with smoke and more ink. The room itself was a large flagstone dome filled with empty papers and glass vials with skulls and crossbones on them.​

    My eyes narrowed, I felt my blood boil, and I readied the knife of the multi-tool. I creeped the door open, just as Mr. Hebert wailed and tossed a ream of blank papers into the wall facing away from the door, and readied myself to lunge at the creature in a crouch.​

    I waited the span between my heartbeats before sprinting forward and pouncing on to the false Mrs. Hebert, driving the knife into the monsters neck and drawing a high pressure spray of ink and ash as the creature let out a pained and liquid howl and tried to toss me from her back. I held on for only a second before the monster tossed me aside near the fallen Mr. Hebert.​

    I quickly looked to him, seeing lucidity come to him and then the shock of seeing the monster before meeting my eyes​

    “Eric? What, wha-” he stammered “What the fuck is that? Why does it look like Annette?”​

    Not caring that he mistook me for my father, I quickly got up along with him and pushed him towards the door.​

    “Run home!” I shouted “Taylor needs you!”​

    I caught one last glimpse of Mr. Hebert’s face, now hardening to that of a dutiful and determined father on a mission to help his daughter, as he ran through the door and out of the Union House. As soon as he walked through the door the thorns grew and blocked it off and I turned to face the monster.​

    The Algean stood straight and rolled its shoulder, looking over them to me and meeting my gaze. Its eyes became completely black, its mouth cracked open wider, thorns and spikes grew out of its head and shards of something obsidian like jutted out of every bit of its skin. It’s foul and misshapen mouth became a scowl as it turned to face me completely.​

    “I don’t know how you found me out, or how you got in here you little shit.” It spoke, still with its voice filled with that bubbling foul liquid quality “But you should know, that you’re not gonna win this. Many have tried, and all have failed.”​

    I readied the knife and the Algean began to pace about the room, not breaking eye contact. Soon, the pacing became an attempt to circle, I made sure to match its pace, keep steady footing, and to keep my eyes open for any opening in its defense or concentration.​

    As we circled each other, the monster’s hands became ebony claws, its legs grew longer becoming cloven hooves, and from under its dress grew a tail made from sharpened thorns like that of a rose ending in a stinger.​

    “Ah! You’re that neighbor boy, the one who was talking to Daniel’s dear sweet daughter. Oh, you’ll get a front row seat to the show, can’t have you missing out on the fun.” It said “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that after we have our fun, we’ll leave enough for those grandparents of yours to find…”​

    It was trying to bait me, the only thing I gave it was a scowl to match the one it gave me. It was taunting me, trying to force me into making the first move. I knew that it had all the time in the world, I didn’t. I would have to make the opening play.​

    I lunged forward, making a feint, trying to get a clean shot at its back. I plunged the knife into where the kidneys on a human being would be, making sure to twist the knife as I pulled out, more ink and ash coming from the wound

    The monster lashed out with backhanded swipe of its claws, catching my off hand and drawing blood. I hissed in pain, feeling it bloom within my arm. I somehow managed to roll away and keep hold of my knife, my offhand bleeding more than a cut of that shallowness should but giving me the method to pull off something only found in the few fiction novels found within the walls of the Connolly Ranch house, a maneuver that would be normally impossible without causing a fatal injury.​

    I cupped my offhand and let it hang, feeling the blood pool into it. The Algean laughed with malicious mockery “Oh, I am gonna make damn sure you’re the opener for when I make Danny Boy snap.”​

    It began to sing “I’m gonna rip your skiiiin off, stick twenty needles in your EYE-BALLS!”​

    Upon the last note of its foul tune, it lunged towards me and I splashed the blood in my off hand into its eyes. As the monster stumbled and tried to clear its vision I sent the blade into its back thrice more, making sure to drive it in deeper and harder with every stab, relishing every spray of the foul facsimile of blood that flew from its wounds. Before I could drive the blade in a fourth time, the creature’s thorned tail sank into my shoulder and with strength unbefitting of such a thin and whiplike thing lifted me off the ground.​

    I tried to pull the damned thing free from my shoulder, but found no leverage. The monster laughed and its tail lengthened, no doubt to begin slamming me all over our stone arena.​

    “You know, Daniel has gone so long without the touch of a woman and he’s so backed up and his daughter, well she looks so much like her mother. Why, she’d make a fine surrogate for his…frustrations and all it would take to drive him off that cliff would be to make him drink something a little harder when I go for the curtain call.” The creature spat and smiled with wicked and cruel glee “Daddy issues are such a long lasting source of essence and the children of hosts always make it taste so good compared to non-blood related ones…”​

    The creature cackled and then feigned shock and embarrassment “Don’t worry my little duckling. Like I said; you’re gonna get a front row seat to the show, a perfect garnish to a hard earned FEAST!”​

    With boiling blood, I slashed the tail in pure rage, severing the thing completely and watching that damned beast howl in pain as more ash and ink sprayed from the stump whilst it retracted.​

    I didn’t feel flagstones under me when I fell, and after I wrenched the stinger from my shoulder and tossed it away, I saw something familiar; rolling hills surrounding a large homestead in the shadow of a mountain.​

    My home for the majority of the fifteen years of my life.​

    Connolly Ranch.​

    Right within sprinting distance, and within the main house was something I knew would end this beast.​

    I scrambled to my feet, holding my wounded shoulder in a furtive attempt to staunch the flow of blood and making sure to throw my head over my shoulder to taunt the creature​

    “Hey she-bitch!” I shouted “Thought you were gonna rip my skin off and stick needles in my eye? Bet you couldn’t outrun a wounded rabbit let alone wounded me!”​

    I turned my head towards the house hoping that by taunting the beast it would continue to pursue me and not try and end the dream by getting to Mr. Hebert. I did my damnedest to run faster than I had ever ran in my life as I heard the angered howl of the Algean and its cloven hooves stamp towards me. I could almost feel its evil on my back as I ran closer and closer to the front door of my old home.​

    I almost leapt through the door. With a burst of whatever passes as adrenaline within a dream I cleared the door frame and slammed it shut, and sent home all three locks, latches, and dead bolts. I saw the door shake as the Algean slammed into it, I did not linger. My victory lied within Grandfather’s den, towards the rear of the house on the first floor and I sprinted to it not letting any of the memories of the old house stall me.​

    I heard the monster battering the door down and knew I did not have long, I heard the front door fall to the floor as I rounded the final corner and came to the homestretch to Grandfather’s den. I felt my heart pound as I let go of my wound to have both arms pump as I made one last mad sprint to that room and tossing open the door.​

    In a cabinet housed behind his desk was my paternal grandfather’s most treasured possession; a Side-By-Side Double Barreled Shotgun, 10 Gauge Remington, Loud as Thunder, and could cut a man clean in half. Fully loaded with buckshot in case of necessity.​

    I used the last of my stamina to reach the cabinet, open it, and grab that prized shotgun. I turned and slumped down against the unopened the old wooden cabinet’s glass door, readying the shotgun against my shoulder and cocking the hammers. Taking aim at the door, both fingers positioned over each trigger, the Algean leapt through the door and time to me slowed to a crawl.​

    The reason my grandfather considered this particular gun of his vast collection the greatest was twofold; first having a paradox barrel prior to George Fosbery making his famed Paradox Rifle, and second having a slight design flaw that Grandfather considered a feature; due to a quirk of the triggers’ heavier than average pull, there was a chance of both hammers going off with one trigger pull.​

    As the monster leapt towards me, I pulled the front trigger, felt my fingers snap, my arm break, and my shoulder shatter the glass cabinet door it was braced against as both barrels fired at once, shredding the creature at the apex of its leap and going through the top of its body all the way through its legs, the force of the shells somehow sending it flying back towards the door.​

    With that, I let myself slide down and take a deep, painful breath.​

    I stayed there for a few moments, surveying the damage. All that was left of the creature was its upper torso, neck, head, and half of the right arm with the rest being black and ashen chunks all over the den. Grandfather would chew me out if he saw this, not only ruining his den, but not maintaining proper firing stance because of a simple wound and allowing the weapon to do as much damage to myself as the damn thing I shot at. If I had remembers all those lessons of his, I would have still been standing, the cabinet wouldn’t be shattered all around me, my right hand would not be a mangled mess, my arm wouldn’t be broken, and I wouldn’t have made my shoulder wound even worse.​

    Either way, it was over and I felt relief fill me.​

    Suddenly, the “corpse” stirred and turned a single open eye towards me, filled with malice and hatred. The damn thing was still alive!​

    I tried to stand up, to reach the box of shells still in the cabinet but hadn’t the strength left in my legs to do it. The monster rolled over its teeth sharpening and tongue growing longer, the Algean wriggled closer, slowly and surely to finish me off and possibly regain the strength to finish off Mr. Hebert.

    As it got closer, panic gripped me, I frantically looked for anything I could get my less wounded hand on. Feeling my left hand find a large shard of glass I gripped it, ignoring the shard cutting in to my palm.​

    The creature coiled slightly then lunged towards me, its foul tongue whipping around. I blocked with my mangled hand, ignoring the stinging barbs that grew from it to pull its head towards the right hand wall and to send the shard of glass into its neck.​

    With a roar I plunged the shard over and over into the beasts neck until it broke off inside its neck, my vision being obscured by the ink and ashes spewing from its gaping wound. With a sudden and surely final burst of strength, I pulled the monsters neck into a choke hold. I squeezed as tight as I could, the monster attempting to flail itself free and feeling myself fade from blood-loss.​

    It was now or never​

    I used the last of that burst to jerk the beast’s head around and heard a sickening crack and squelch.​

    Soon after, that black and foul substitute for blood disappeared along with the creature’s corpse.

    The Algean was no more.​

    My vision was clear of the gunk, but bloodless still made it difficult to focus.​

    I hadn’t wanted to feel this again. Not after that day.​

    Someone walked through the door, a woman in white with dark hair. It looked like that photo of Mrs Hebert with mother.​

    Frantically and feebly I grabbed another shard of glass, trying to get to my feet and find the strength to finish off the monster before it killed me. It walked calmly, and with a stoic look on its face, it must be trying to get my guard down.

    I didn’t have anything left. There was nothing preventing the monster from finishing me off.


    It knelt down to me and reached out, I couldn’t even prevent its hand from reaching my face.

    It’s OK.” she said in a soothing and comforting voice “You did it, it’s dead.”

    It wasn’t the Algean, it was Mrs. Hebert.

    I stopped struggling. Nothing more to do then.

    Thank you, Walter.” she said with a smile “Daniel’s free now, he can finally recover and hopefully let me go.”

    I felt cold, I was bleeding out. Just like before…​

    “I don’t want to die Mrs. Hebert.” I told her, with what were undoubtedly my final tears “I’m scared…”​

    In the distance I heard a noise, droning beeps​

    “You aren’t going to die, Walter.” Mrs Hebert said to me with a friendly laugh “Don’t you want to shut that alarm up?”​

    I was confused​

    “What ala-”​


    Walt​

    12/31/10, 7:30 AM​

    My face became rather intimate with the ground and pain was the result.​

    In a frenzied panic, I got to my feet checking myself for the wounds I had felt and finding nothing.​

    That droning and loud beeping kept going, on instinct I slapped its source; my alarm clock.​

    My head darted around, making sure that everything was in its place. Once I was assured of the material nature of my surroundings, I let out a sigh of relief.​

    I walked over to my window and threw open the curtains, taking in that sight of the old New Hampshire homes and the half sunken ships dotting the bay.​

    I was awake.

    From the corner of my eye, I saw him; Mr. Hebert looking far healthier and less haggard than last I saw him, still tired but in a manner suggesting age rather than the corruption he had been suffering. He was throwing a few cases of beer into his garbage tote.​

    I closed my curtains and swiftly got dressed, rushed downstairs, quickly greeted Finn and Saoirse who didn’t seem to mind my haste, and rushed outside making sure to close the door behind me.​

    I made my way over to Mr. Hebert, it was time for the moment of truth.​

    As I walked up to him, he saw me and instantly his face became filled with shame.​

    I knew that he would try to shy away from me and picked up my pace, shouting “Mr. Hebert, wait up!” as I jogged up to him.​

    “Good morning, Mr. Hebert” I said with a smile. “Great morning isn’t it?”​

    Mr. Hebert tried to bring himself to match my apparent sunny disposition but couldn’t quite manage it​

    “Hey there Walt…” he said​

    “How are you feeling sir?” I asked him​

    Mr. Hebert shook his head “A hell of a lot better than usual, especially more so than…”​

    His tightened his eyes in pain as he said recalled the events of the twenty ninth, he opened his mouth to speak “I was out of line. I shouldn’t have done that. If you want to press charges…”

    I held my hands up and stammered to stop him​

    “No sir, no sir. There is nothing to forgive.” I told him “You weren’t in your right mind, mad as hell, some strange boy from next door was talking to your daughter. I get it sir, any other man would have been in your position.”​

    Well, maybe without the Dream Eater exacerbating things​

    “That doesn’t make it right…” he tried to tell me before I held up my hands again, letting a silent beat fall between us.​

    “Well. If you want to make it up that badly, Finn and Saoirse wanted me to invite you and Taylor over for a little New Years get together. Said you could bring that couple from work you’re friends with too if they wanted to come along, a Kurt and Lacey if I recall correctly”​

    I was doing my damnedest to act friendly, I honestly didn’t know if it was working or if he could tell that this was not normal for me.​

    “I don’t think…” Mr. Hebert trailed off, turning to look at his slightly overflowing tote filled with trash and beer cases then to the porch of his home where Taylor was standing, looking much happier than last I had seen her. Mr. Hebert let out a sigh before looking at me and continuing with a smile “You know what? I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”​

    WOOOOOOOOOOO. Yeah. Like I said. Weird. Would you believe this is the first action and extended dream scenes that I have ever written in earnest? It probably shows. I'll probably post a little bit of trivia or something tomorrow. For now. Please leave a reply or like if you liked it, leave a lengthy reply as to why you didn't if you didn't. Comments, complaints, concerns. I welcome all of it. Have a good one.

    Added some stuff to elaborate the scene with Annette at the end of the dream
     
    Last edited: Aug 29, 2020
  7. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    So how'd I do?

    like i said in the authors note; this is a first for me and any and all feedback, review, etc will greatly help and is greatly appreciated
     
  8. Ryan Lozano

    Ryan Lozano Versed in the lewd.

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    When I hear this story I thought there was actually going to be Scion in there
     
  9. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    What do you mean? As in the Worm character?
     
  10. Ryan Lozano

    Ryan Lozano Versed in the lewd.

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    Yes
     
  11. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    I mean, if I stick with it and we get up to Demigod or God tier then I'd have to address that elephant in the room.
     
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  12. Gladiusone

    Gladiusone Experienced.

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    It’s good: we’re starting to get into the meat of the crossover. Keep it up.
     
  13. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    What'd you like about it and where could I improve?
     
  14. Extras: Re; The Direction of The Story
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Once this story hits post Leviathan, things will begin to go off of Worm's rails almost completely and go deep into the Scion side of things.

    Of course by then we'd be towards the peak of the Hero tier of Scion and start dipping into Demigod status. Which at that point even the "wimpiest" Scions can stand toe to toe with some pretty tough shit that would make even The Triumvirate (why does Wildbow's naming convention for heroes always make everyone sound so...lame?) start to have some trouble.

    What does this mean?

    Original Antagonists.

    I am aware im kinda counting eggs before they hatch, but its best to throw shit that 90% likely will be in and wouldnt be a spoiler to discuss for those not quite sold on the story yet.
     
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  15. Ryan Lozano

    Ryan Lozano Versed in the lewd.

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    Please don’t make the Hero Character what the fandom makes of them they are not that they are good at their job yes they did terrible things but when you are in a world without Hope and villains out number the hero’s what are you going to do
     
  16. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Don't worry, I have something for this. Aside from bad naming sense and slaves to pr, I have no real issue with those government sanctioned maniacs. They will be players in this game, and I do have shit for them.

    Parahumans are not going to get roflstomped by Scions my friend.


    I mean, if they take on a mid to high legend/XP Demigod and dont have the prep time or the powerset to match probably. Gods? Yeah not gonna hapoen, at least the god themselves. Titanspawn/Monsters/Other Misc Creatures of Legend? eh case by case.
     
  17. Procrastination

    Procrastination Getting out there.

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    I like everything I've read! I'm not really clued into Scion where you're drawing everything from (I assume), but I'm able to keep up with the story and follow the fantasy crossover nature of it well enough. You seem to be doing well to blend the human-based god-parts, and the all powerful space whales...well.

    I mean, there's a lot of Worm verse people who are pretty godlike (by general means or standards), so while I don't have a frame of reference for the Scion source material, I'd be careful totally invalidating the power levels of worm when many of them are already so crazy as to make the world a grimmdark ever-edging shithole circling the drain and ready to tip. That's not even me addressing Scion (the space whale-avatar) itself.

    That said, I followed along well with the story and other than some iffy dialogue that I attributed more to the main character being mildly on the autistic spectrum than shortcomings as an author, I'm with it. I'll be watching the story. I think at the pace you're going it's going to be a slog to get into the meat of worm, much less beyond, but if that's where you want to go and you put in the effort, you'll get there. This all said, it seems like you're more keen to focus the story on the Scion aspects of things than the Worm things and that might be offputting to people who have no clue about the former (like me). That might just be the case of 'right now' given how little we've seen of the story, though. I'm going to withhold judgment at least until we see how things develop between parahuman interactions and the main character's troubles.
     
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  18. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Let's just say that once the titular Band gets togeher, things will chug along at a faster pace.


    Glad you're liking the fic so far, also not my intention for Walt to come off as on the spectrum. He's just a poor conversationalist. Kind of guy who doesn't believe in speaking more than necessary, doesn't believe in sugarcoating things, and doesn't believe in dancing around an issue.
     
  19. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Just a quick request for feedback and then an update for ya

    How are the OCs? Good, Bad, Ugly?

    Once we get to Winslow and beyond Taylor will be focused on a lot more, I have no intention of sidelining her.

    1.9 and the subsequent interlude (or Paralog) will be the last chapter(s) before we get to Winslow and more supernatural and superheroic shenanigans. 1.9 is also where we will meet another recurring character as well as into some....interesting encounters with canon characters.

    Once I have time off from Work again (two days from now) I'll sit down snd finish outlining and writing 1.9.

    I thank you all for reading and hope you will continue to enjoy it.
     
  20. Chailon

    Chailon Verified Winged Lagomorph

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    It was probably said by someone else before, but I think one of the biggest draw of your story is your OCs.
    You somehow managed to give life to your OCs in a way where they are not just cardboard cut walking tropes, and even the foppish asshole somehow come off as Human in a way wich is hard to find on fanfiction of any kind.
    The fact that you also doesnt seem to make too many grammatical mistakes is just the cherry on top.
     
  21. Procrastination

    Procrastination Getting out there.

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    Having no knowledge of 1/2 of the source material, I assumed your OCs included everything from the cat, the family, the main character, the toolsmith (who I suspected was a Norse mythology based dwarf), etc. They all seemed fine to me. Some of the dialogue could be a bit odd, and could use adjusting, but I mentioned that in a previous post where I drew attention to a couple of lines that were really odd, as if they'd been written with intended tone from a Japanese manga, but were converted to an English literature format. I've seen this a lot with fanfiction where Hikigaya Hachiman is concerned, where he poses a question to himself that at first seems logical but flips the script and denies it entirely, or poses a question that seems entirely illogical and then monologues internally to make it work.

    Careful when making your main character and their actions/behaviors, you don't make them always do the right thing and have the right answer. You can have a character who objectively never fails at anything major they've attempted in a story still feel like they might screw something up, or like the rush to survival or possible death is ever looming, without that ever being the case in hindsight. Writing that can be difficult though, and that's kind of the veil that authors have to weave. You want (within the suspension of disbelief you've been granted by the fantasy story setting) to make everything believable and not at all abnormal in great parts, but abnormal in small parts that ultimately make an exceptional character or journey. As an example of what I mean when I say 'always doing the right thing for a scene to turn out how it needs to', I felt like the whole 'tackled a guy and proved he's just someone who will step in for anyone' scene was a bit forced, as its timing where he meets back up with Taylor is wonky if not outright imminent. Avoid ever telling the audience what to feel (especially under the guise where a character within the story is the one making that estimation, in this case, us and Taylor) and just show a series of things and let them(and us) come to that naturally. Even if you really, really wanted to show the exact reason why a character might be willing to trust him you definitely want to dress it up a bit more than you did there with Taylor in my opinion.

    Him tackling whoever was reckless and possibly lethal for any normal person, as they would be recognized to be right now. Taylor and his perspective should be as these people (currently). So she could just as well have thought, 'He does reckless, ridiculous things sometimes...just like when...he brought me back mom's flute.' And then, without having told anyone WHAT to think, you've given the 'impression' that she's viewing these series of actions as interrelated and part of a greater correlation of character (as you would). Voila, suddenly Taylor has perspective and thoughts without you needing to outright say them (and you say those 'outright saying things' moments for REALLY IMPORTANT dramatic moments that define characters). This would be the moment where the chapter finishes on some kind of note like Taylor thinking, "Throw himself in front of a bus to push a stranger out of the way? Yea...he's just that kind of guy." - scene end.

    Side note, no pawn shop is going to sell a flute for $10. What the hell would they have paid for it, and how would Emma have given her fragments of a broken flute? You can't even find a broken one for $10. The fact the flute was apparently inlaid and fairly valuable for design (coming with its own custom case) would only make that more silly. I'd advise retroactively changing that price to something more reasonable (and thus at greater loss to your MC, making the scene both realistic and more altruistic). You can find flutes at pawn shops for a couple hundred dollars, and some really garbage ones for a fair bit less, but to be clear, the way a pawn shop works is by offering someone somewhere between 20-40% of what they believe they can re-sell an object for. So if they see a flute, and they think they can only get $10, you're saying they paid Emma probably $2.00 for the flute. Which...no one's going to do. I mean, pawn shops actually write contracts and make you fingerprint and sign things to accept them. I'd price the flute at $100 or something (since this is assumedly a quality flute even used), and that will be far better!

    I don't want to go back and dig through the logs of dialogue, as I feel like too many suggestions or corrections at once serve more to demoralize than encourage. You're doing the hard part, which is actually writing. There's a reason I chose the name I have for this forum, despite being a writer. :sneaky:

    Either way, it's a good and entertaining read, and with some polishing and time to further hone your craft, you could be great! You're on the path.
     
  22. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Thank you sir, you have given me more constructive criticism than anyone else so far and i thabk you from the bottom of my heart.

    As for the flute.....


    In the original draft Walt reads the price tag still attached to the flute and finds out it was actually about 100 bucks. Walt would have written it off as the pawnbroker being an idiot and missing the implication that Walt scared this guy so kuch he gave it to him at a massive loss. As for the flute being utterly destroyed. i legit was under the impression that the flute was intact, just completely filthy and seemingly broken. Here, the flute Emma showed taylor was a broken one stolen from the music room of winslow and then she sold it to a pawnshop that wouldnt ask questions. Ime the shittiest and scummiest one in town. One that is a front for drug dealing among other things. I never got far into worm and all my knowledge is from wiki walks and the fanfics that adhere to canon timeline too much.

    Again, thank you for pointing out my fuckups. It does help.
     
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  23. Extras: Scion Powers & You
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Well, tonight i will resume writing Band. To tide you all over I figured I'd put out some more info on Scion, pose some questions for you, and touch bade with you, the readers.

    First Off; Powers.

    What kind do Scions get? Lots. Just for being a Scion, they can heal faster, fight on longer, and basically always about to be at the wrong/right place at the right time. Then comes Purviews and Knacks.

    Purviews are like Cleric Domains in D&D/Pathfinder, in 1e the powers you get are very linear along a dot level progression. However in 2e there are Purview Powers (which you get two of three of them out the gate) and you can channel that purview into a Marvel for a more freeform use (for example you can use the Fire purview literally to make fire or figuratively to stoke the fires of passion in someone). Whats the limit to this? Unless the purview you are using is innate (of which you only get two; the Pantheon Specific Purview of your pantheon, and one of your parent's) you have to have a motif tied to the source of that purview. More on that in a bit.

    What are Knacks? They are essentially perks, in 2e they are perks that follow the Calling (or story archetype) of a Scion and they are essentially super skills. For example, if a Scion had Healer as one of their callings one of the Knacks they could pick up allows them to be able to do any surgery as if they were in a clean, sterile, room, with literally everything they needed to complete it even if they were on a deserted island and armed with nothing but a pair of tweezers and a squirrel can do complex open heart surgery.

    Its kind of ridiculous.

    Now Gods don't need anything to channel their non innate purviews (anymore), but their Heroic and Demigod level Scions do. We call those Birthrights.

    Birthrights come in three categories; Relics (stuff like Gae Bolg, Poseidon's tridrnt, Excalibur, etc), Guides (Mentor figures and the like), and Creatures (Hugin & Mugin, Pegasus, etc). Technically there's Followers but those are just that. Followers (even if they could be shit like Wolf Warriors, Amazons, Valkyries, Myrmidons, etc). Primarily with Relics, you write a sentence long phrase that describes how the item channels that purview. This is what I mentioned earlier; motifs. Example, a pair Scions could have control of the Sky Purview (which is as much the power of thunder and lightning as it is flight and wind) but their motifs are different and thus they use those powers differently. An example of this is Zeus using his bolts to hurl lightning around, while Susanoo creates great storms, and Quetzalcoatl flies around and brings winds. All three of them are using the Sky purview, but their motifs are different.

    Thats a quick (and hopefully coherent) shpeal on Scion powers, if something needs elaboration please ask and I will answer to the best of my ability as quickly as possible, I lurk on the thread on and off every day (i have no life).

    And now the Question(s)

    One for you guys;

    If you were in a Scion game, what would your Scion's patron be?

    Some Feedback for me;

    Do I ask for feedback too much?

    Do I drop these updates posts too often?

    If so, should I hold off on them entirely or just drop some immediately chapter update?
     
  24. Ryan Lozano

    Ryan Lozano Versed in the lewd.

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    If I was in the Scion game I would like God to be my patron if not for reasons then the most inspirational god that can inspire others in a truly hopeless world and truly make it hope once more
     
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  25. Simonbob

    Simonbob Really? You don't say.

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    Depends on what I feel like at the time. Heck, I'm the kinda guy who asks if he can play a renagade monster. Weird can be fun!

    What works for you, works for you. Until we, the audience gets annoyed, and stop responding.

    I'm not a big belever in organisation in fanfic. Write, as it works for you.


    Your passion is what makes this story work.
     
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  26. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Sadly the Abrahamic "Pantheon" isnt in the game officially. There is a homebrew pantheon where they are the case study fir when a God's worship gets too big. YHVH basically fatebound himself into so many contradictory positions that he is now essentially crying in a corner in pain while Jesus is trying to do right by people, the Angels wait to be commanded by the Almighty again, and Lucifer is trying to get dad to do things again by trying everything. YHVH still has a writeup but the more applicable patron would be Jesus.
     
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  27. Procrastination

    Procrastination Getting out there.

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    Chosen god? Probably Thor. I don't know how he's treated in Scion, but at least going by the standards of reality, he was one of few Norse gods to ask no human sacrifice and to act in general like a decent person where everyone (but giants) is concerned. Giants make him mega hateful and unreasonable, but otherwise, pretty decent. This was a pretty drastic step forward where it comes to ancient gods. Many historians even believe that it was Thor's popularity that eventually gave rise to ideas and faith in Zeus. While that's not applicable here, since they're both obviously different entities for the Scion world, the way that different cultures adopt and trade stories and make up their own shit (making up entirely new gods based on another culture's god) is really neat!

    Edited to add, for that matter of the time period and the following few hundred years, he was STILL one of the few to say no human sacrifices. So watch out going Greek/Roman/Celtic/Egyptian/Persian. Though I think Celtic stuff surprisingly has less than the others.
     
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  28. BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    After a few set backs and a family function I had to go to; 1.9 is being written now. Outline is done. I went back and clarified the end part of the dream with Annette, it isn't much but I know some people pointed out that it was kinda confusing. Expect the chapter to drop tonight or tomorrow with an interlude soon after (where we will meet the fourth member of the Band, Walt runs into someone from Canon, and we get a double dose of Donnie Rhodes)
     
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  29. Threadmarks: Origin 1.9
    BrotherMouse518

    BrotherMouse518 Know what you're doing yet?

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    Walt

    12/31/10 7:40 AM

    The second I closed the door and locked it I let out a heavy sigh of relief, the weight of the past few days finally being lifted.

    I made my way to the kitchen to give Finn and Saoirse the news, as well as finally ask them some rather pertinent questions. Stepping past the threshold, I caught sight of the far younger appearance of my maternal grandparents.

    Finn no longer looked like an octogenarian and his hair was once again the vibrant red seen in the pictures about the house. Prior to my visit to Mother’s Glade, Finn McCullough had a physique resembling that of a bean pole, now he looked filled out and most certainly at peak physical condition. If I had to make an accurate guess, I would say that he looked closer to a man in his mid to late thirties at the youngest and early forties at the eldest.

    Saoirse’s figure didn’t change all that much, still fairly thin for a woman of her age, still a head shorter than myself and Finn. However, the changes that did happen were far more striking; her skin paler – almost white, her hair became darker and filled with the volume that any woman would no doubt kill to have and its color seemed to shift from ebony to a medium brown depending on how the light caught it, and finally her eyes seemed to have an odd shine to them.

    Mornin’ Walt!” said Finn, handing me a cup of coffee “How’d it go over with Daniel?”

    I took a sip of that cup of holy blackness before answering “Mr. Hebert accepted the invitation to our New Years get together.”

    Saoirse beamed and gave me a pat on the back “Glad to hear it.”

    After returning from the glade and rushing downstairs to see if I couldn’t hand off the charm to Taylor, I had caught sight of my grandparents in their current youthful state. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I didn’t feel it pertinent to ask them why they no longer looked so old, feeling it better to focus on the task I had set for myself and delaying the no doubt awkward questions till after fighting the Algean.

    I made sure to sit down and take another sip of the Colombian roast before ripping off the proverbial band-aid

    Finn. Saoirse.” I said as flatly as possible. “Why do you no longer look like geriatric senior citizens?”

    I imagine seeing ones grandparents freeze in place and then slowly turn to stare at you would be somewhat amusing in better circumstances. Finn stopped cutting up his biscuits and gravy and Saoirse stopped short of feeding herself a bit of scrambled egg.

    Saoirse was the first to move, putting down her fork and coming round to me and giving me a light smack upside the head. Finn chuckled nervously after and stammered a bit before continuing

    Oh, you know. It’s that new beauty cream, Saoirse had us try it and…”

    If this is how Finn acts when he’s lying I should probably keep him from any poker tables.

    Grandpa, you look like a man in your thirties. Grandma looks like she’s barely pushing thirty. Why is that.”

    Saoirse let out a sigh before saying “I take it Evian came by to show you your mother’s old trailer?”

    Finn stopped looking so nervous and became rather sheepish.

    Yes ma’am.” I said “Had me drink something funny and when I came back I saw you two look younger.”

    Saoirse returned to her seat near Finn before letting out a sigh and replying

    I’m a selkie, dear.” She said “We live quite a long while.

    I remember reading something about them, women who could turn into seals or seals that could turn into women. Also that it was common in their stories that men would take their sealskin coats and kidnap them as brides.

    Did Finn kidnap you?” I asked bluntly

    Finn and Saoirse looked horrified that I would even suggest such a thing.

    Hell no!” Finn shouted with an irritated look

    I gave Finn my coat willingly, Walter.” Said Saoirse “While the story of how Finn and I fell in love greatly resembles a fairy tale, I assure you it wasn’t like the many stories told about my kind.”

    I grimaced and looked down at my coffee, feeling quite shameful for assuming.

    Saoirse put her hand on mine “It’s alright, dear. You didn’t know.”

    OK. My grandmother is a Selkie, that explains your apparent youth. It doesn’t explain why Grandpa is young now, or why I and presumably anybody else could only see you as elders.”

    Well Walter, to be able to tell you that we’d have to tell you the story of how your Grandmother and I met, how we fell in love, and how we ended up married.” Finn said, his voice filled with the joy of fond memories.

    Saoirse continued; “It started in ‘46. Your grandpa was staying with family that still lived in Ireland-”

    I thought selkies were a Scottish story.” I said, interrupting the story and getting a smack upside the cheek from Saoirse

    Don’t interrupt. Selkie can be found all around the Atlantic coastlines where Seal can be found. Used to be a small community of them around here before the riots that gave us that eyesore of a Boat Graveyard.”

    Finn picked up where Saoirse left off “I had gotten out of the Army and didn’t really know what to do with myself. My mother and father died of consumption right before the US joined in the war, I enlisted thinking that serving my country would help me get through it, it didn’t. Just came home to nothing, and all my war buddies were moving on with their lives. I went to Ireland to finally meet the family that didn’t come to the US, my own grandparents, aunts, uncles. Mostly wandered around helping them out at their places of business or around the house, one of my uncles was a luthier and violinist and he worked me the hardest. Taught me how to make instruments, fix em up, tune em up, even how to play them.”

    Finn took a sip of his own cup of coffee before resuming

    Started practicing my my fiddle out on the beach by the cottage they set me up in. One day, saw your grandma. Hiding out by one of the rocks, just watching me play.”

    Saoirse embraced him and leaned in as Finn gave her a peck on the cheek

    I didn’t mind the company and didn’t feel the need to scare her, so I just kept playing. Once I stopped, she was gone. Kind of fell into a bit of a routine of it; after work I’d come and practice out on the rocks and Saoirse would watch from afar.”

    I gathered the courage to actually speak with your grandpa eventually, just walked up and started talking with him once he was done playing. I introduced myself, he introduced himself. We got to talking, and soon after we had quite the whirlwind romance.” Saoirse said with a wide smile “It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows though. At the time my family had betrothed me to a selkie man by the name of Cormag.”

    Knowing full well that there was a smack in my future for doing so, I interrupted my grandma to ask “There are male selkie?”

    Sure enough, Saoirse smacked me in the same spot on my cheek.

    Stop that. Yes there are male selkie, how do you think more selkie are made?” She said, giving me a stern look before resuming the story “Cormag was a braggart, a bully, and a brute. He wasn’t particularly fond of humanity either.’

    Finn looked over to me as he gave Saoirse’s shoulder a rub with one hand while he took a sip of coffee with the other.

    One day while your grandma and I were out on the beach, Cormag leapt out of the water in his seal form, shifted to human, and dragged Saoirse off into the water after decking me while I was surprised.” He said, rubbing his jaw. “So I ran my ass to my bicycle, rode like a madman into town and told anybody who would listen about what I just saw. Nobody believed me, not even most of my family. Only the old timers did. After being laughed at for what felt like the thirtieth time, my great aunt took me aside and brought me to an old path that led into the local woods. Told me that only the Queen of the Fairies, would be able to help me find Saoirse.”

    Finn took one last sip of coffee before continuing

    Long story short; your grandma got kidnapped by a jealous ex, I got help from the Fairy Queen, she showed me where that shotgun wedding was and how to get there, gave me a necklace so I wouldn’t drown going down there, beat Cormag like a drum and saved your grandma. Somehow, her father thought that any man who would go up to get the help of Titania and interrupt a wedding to save his beloved from a life devoid of love and respect was alright in his book and gave me and your grandma his blessing to be married. Hell, the people officiating the wedding offered to marry us on the spot. Even Cormag’s family were ok with it! Guess not stealing your grandma’s coat and being far more pleasant than that lummox was a nice touch.”

    Saoirse crossed her arms and pouted “You didn’t have to rush it, Finn. It’s one worth telling in its entirety and without any cuts.”

    Finn just laughed and hugged her “I don’t think Walter quite has the patience for it, hun.”

    He’s right. I really don’t.

    “Still does not answer my earlier questions.” I said “Evian mentioned The Mists, does it have something to do with that?”
    Finn rolled his eyes playfully and Saoirse pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke


    Since selkie are closely related to the fae we live far longer than any mortal man. I didn’t want to outlive him, so before he took me to America we sought an audience with Queen Titania, asking her if she could make me mortal so I could grow old with Finn.”

    I was going to interrupt again but Finn spoke before I could

    Yes that Titania.” He said “No Oberon though and I didn’t feel it pertinent to ask about him.”

    Saoirse chimed back in “To our surprise, Titania offered instead to grant Finn the same kind of longevity that a selkie would.”

    Given the price of such a generous offer it made sense.” Finn said, pushing his tin mug aside with a look of disappointment towards the lack of coffee within it “In exchange for that life extension, Saoirse and I would only be able to have one child, ever, and that it would be up to the fairies when that child would be able to be conceived. Which is why your mother was an only child, not for lack of trying”

    Finn and Saoirse shared a knowing look and then looked at me with a quite coy or smug expression.

    To say that I learned more about my grandparent’s sex lives from that one sentence then I would ever care to know about would as I have often said on many another topic; an understatement.

    Too. Much. Information.

    Fast forward to ‘69, your grandma and I miss out on the moon landing and we welcomed your mother; Doreen McCullough into the world.” Finn said

    My eyes were still widened with the shock of that former sentence.
    Was everything past the second meeting with Queen Titania all that necessary?”


    Saoirse smiled, Finn chuckled, and they both said “Yes.”

    If only for the sake of your own amusement?” I asked

    Only a little.” Saoirse said before returning to her seat and resuming her breakfast

    Reminiscing aside, is Daniel OK?” Finn asked, also resuming his breakfast

    He no longer looks diseased and he tossed out a few cases of beer.” I said “That and him accepting the invitation seems to point to him being back on the road to normalcy.”

    Saoirse lit up, Finn got up to give me a pat on the back before filling up our cups with more coffee.

    Once breakfast was done we began preparation for the small party; cooking, moving furniture around, making sure the bathroom was fully stocked, the house was tidy, etc.
    True to his word, Mr. Hebert and Taylor came by at a quarter past eight in the evening and brought this Kurt and Lacey my grandparents mentioned. A fairly nondescript couple who seemed to be mother henning pretty hard on Mr Hebert, eagerly getting things for him when he clearly wanted to get it himself. Taylor seemed to find it amusing and it brought a little smile to me face seeing him let people actually near him.

    Finn and Saoirse had mentioned as we prepared for the guests that they invited Martin and Makoto from the M&M Market over as well, I found out that their surname was Vargas. They couldn’t attend on account of their daughter just arriving back from visiting some of Makoto’s family in Japan and she didn’t want to drag down the festivities with her jet lag.

    When I asked Saoirse why they invited the Vargas’ in the first place (and getting a smack for being rude) Saoirse replied

    Finn and I welcomed them to the Champion’s District and we come by all the time, just formed a rapport over the years. They even asked us to be their daughter’s godparents.”

    I chuckled at the implication of my grandmother being a literal fairy godmother, or damn near close to it.

    After I was done helping set up the food table and seeing Finn and Saoirse entertain the other adults, Taylor found me and dragged me off to a quiet corner of the house, no doubt to get those answers I couldn’t give her the other day.

    Here’s your weird rock and hair thing.” She said, handing me the charm back “Whatever you did worked, thanks for helping my dad.”

    I gave her a hum and a nod in reply as I pocketed the charm, once the guests were gone I’d return it to the Atelier.

    I’m just gonna cut the crap and ask; What did you do? Are you a cape? Is that thing some kind of weird Tinkertech or Trump thing? What was wrong with my father?” she said quickly and all in one breath.

    I let her catch her breath before answering plainly “I went inside your father’s dream, killed the monster that was draining him of life and making him isolate himself and be so aggressively irritable, no I’m not a parahuman, the charm is magic not a parahuman thing, and it was made by my late mother who I have recently discovered was a witch of some persuasion.”

    The look on her face would have been amusing if I were joking, she blinked twice behind those round glasses of hers before answering. “I appreciate you helping and all, but please don’t fuck with me like that.”

    I looked her in the eyes and answered “It’s the truth, even if I don’t entirely understand it. I’m not lying.”

    Taylor let out a sigh as she shook her head and smiled. “You’re crazy, cowboy.”

    She found a pair of chairs and sat down, I took the opposite chair.

    When I woke up this morning, my dad was sitting by my bed crying. As soon as he saw I was awake he gave me a hug and wouldn’t stop apologizing for…” Taylor shrugged “...Everything; withdrawing into himself, ignoring me, not seeing that I was hurting too, pushing people away. He told me that he was going to do his best to make up for how absent he’s been.”

    Taylor’s brown eyes shone with gratitude behind her glasses as she looked me in the eye

    Before this morning my father hadn’t hugged me since my mom’s funeral.” She said “Thank you, Walt. For whatever you did.”

    I felt my face heat up and cursed my lack of head wear to hide under, I looked away trying to regain a semblance of my usual stoic demeanor.

    Out of the corner, I saw her look away and take a sip of her drink

    So.” She said “Since we’re here and you know a little more about me then I know about you, mind if I ask you some questions?”

    I nodded, hoping the small talk would be less awkward then me getting red in the face over a girl thanking me

    Alright. So, where are you from originally?” she asked

    Wyoming. Grew up on a ranch my Grandfather owned just outside of Owl Creek. ‘The ass end of nowhere of the ass end of nowhere’ my Grandfather called it. County we were in was the second least populous of the state.” I said, not sure how specific she wanted me to be.

    What was that like?”

    Well, aside from the occasional trip to the state capital or to Thermopolis where the county seat is, I could count the amount of people I saw daily on one hand.” I said, trying to lean back and relax into my chair but not quite finding the sweet spot “I miss the solitude and being able to ride around the ranch on the horses we had.”

    Taylor seemed to no longer be as embarrassed as before and determined to ask more questions

    So what made you move?”

    I knew the question was coming, didn’t quite know how to answer it.

    Grandfather sent me here. Didn’t tell me why.” While that may be true, I had a good guess.

    That sucks.” She says “You have any friends or extended family that you had to leave behind?”

    Much easier question to answer

    No, Grandfather was the only family I had out there.” I said with a sigh “Didn’t really talk all that much with the ranch hands, and I only really had one friend. She’d pop in with her grandmother when she wanted to check up on Grandfather. Her name was Winona Standing-Bear, Winnie for short.”

    Taylor looked down at her drink and then back up to me, leaving a second or so of silence before asking me more questions

    Were you two close?”

    Winnie was the annoying younger sister I never wished for but got anyway.” I said with a grimace “She would do everything in her power to drag me into whatever mischief and mayhem she was plotting and it often fell on me to get her out of the trouble she got us in.”

    I let out a sigh and shook my head, thinking back on many a misadventure with Winnie “Still, she’s the only real friend I had back home. Can’t say I’ll miss the harebrained schemes she would whip up when she was bored, even if it meant having to leave the quiet of Wyoming for the hustle and bustle of the big city.”

    Taylor chuckled and shook her head “So, where will you be going to school?”

    Winslow.” I said “Clarendon was full, Immaculata is too expensive and too stuffy, Arcadia’s waitlist wasn’t worth it either.”

    I looked over to Taylor and saw her face cringing “I go there too.”

    Ah. Awkward.

    What should I expect?” I asked more to soften the blow of awkwardness then anything

    Taylor laughed bitterly before answering “Burnt out or useless teachers, kids in open gang colors, some of em dealing drugs more or less openly, others getting in fights with other gang kids, usually ends with someone having to go to the trauma ward. School got metal detectors to deter that kind of shit but those kept getting broken, we had a school resource officer but he stopped showing up, someone could get bullied in front of other people, even in front of a teacher and nobody would do a damn thing to help.”

    I would” I said, reflexively

    Even if the whole school would try to stop you, even if the person being bullied had the whole school against them?” She asked, no doubt rhetorically

    Yes.” I said, only getting a sardonic and sarcastic laugh from her

    You say that like you believe it Walt.” she said hollowly

    I make it a habit not to say things I don’t mean or making promises I can’t keep.” I said making sure to look her in the eye when I did “If you ever need someone in your corner, if you ever need help, call. I’ll come running. I promise.”

    I meant every word.

    Taylor’s face flushed a bit and she replied “I’ll hold you to it.”

    I nodded and leaned back into the chair, giving up on finding the optimal position.

    I may know a little about your past, but I don’t really know anything about you as a person.” I said “OK if I ask a few personal questions?”

    Taylor shakes her head and sighs “Do I have to answer all of them?”

    I shook my head no

    Shoot.” she said

    So, what are your interests?”

    Taylor chuckled and had a small smile on her face before answering

    I like capes.”

    As in Parahumans or the article of clothing?”

    Parahumans.”

    To be completely honest, I never gave any serious thought on the subject. Aside from acknowledging their existence and knowing the odds of meeting one were rather slim I was pretty ambivalent

    Got any favorites?” I asked

    Armsmaster is my favorite local hero.” She says with a small smile and a bit of enthusiasm “He’s a tinker, rides around on a motorcycle, has this awesome halberd that has all sorts of tinkertech in it.”

    Got a think for motorcycles and medieval weapons, eh?” I said with a smirk
    She gave me a playful smack on the shoulder for that “He’s the most heroic looking out of the Protectorate ENE, Alexandira is my all time favorite though.”


    I didn’t have that many questions for her now that I thought about it, only one I could think of at the moment.

    Last question; coffee or tea?”

    I prefer tea over coffee.” She said “You?”

    Coffee” I said

    We continued with some more small talk before rejoining the adults, nothing major. Things to do around town, stuff to look out for when walking around. That kind of thing.

    I don’t quite know where we stand with each-other but I feel like I have made my first friend out here in Brockton Bay, gives me a feeling that things won’t be so bad out here. While we conversed, I spotted Evian giving me a wink from the window, I made sure to give him the finger when nobody was looking and before he slinked off to wherever he spends his time. With any luck, I wouldn’t be seeing him all that often.

    Finally it came time to watch the ball drop.

    As we counted down to the new year, I wondered what the new year would bring and knew that whatever happened I would face it head on and without hesitation.

    Well, short one. There will be an interlude like I said once I get around to it, then we will be at Winslow an get into the nitty gritty. As always, thank you for reading. Have a good one


    Changed taylor's eye color to its canon brown
     
    Last edited: Sep 5, 2020
  30. Gladiusone

    Gladiusone Experienced.

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    So ... while the various supernatural stuff is good, is the identity of the MCs divine parent ever going to actually be addressed?
     
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