zeeth_kyrah

"I have mastered the magics of power," he said, "and at my word, angels shall fall, the gods tremble, the sky break! You will kneel before me."

She nodded in acknowledgment. "You have mastered power, I suppose. I'll take you at your word there. Have you understood what it means?"

He frowned. "Irrelevant. Knowledge itself is power, therefore I know its meaning. Now: KNEEL!" At his word, the sky did indeed shake and the world before him trembled.

The child sighed, looking up at his mighty, chiseled face. She turned away, and he dropped to his own knees. Shock and anger filled the man's beauteous visage. She began to speak: "Do you know how I have silenced you and brought you do your knees?"

She skipped forward two steps, then turned. "It's simple, actually. You command only power. I command freedom."

The would-be god tried to lift his hand, to summon his weapon and strike her down. Nothing moved.

"Thou art the mountain/ No longer name alone," she chanted with a smile. "I'm sorry. You'll calm down after a while, I think. I won't keep you longer than necessary."

Then she walked away, her body growing to adult form in a few seconds.

One thousand four hundred and one years later, the village near Stone Man Mountain received a visitor. The woman wore shades of pink and red, and a smile that made everyone happier who looked on it.

"Today, you have to move," she told the elders, and any villager who would listen. "The mountain is going to come home."

Nobody believed her until it lifted a mighty hand and began to cry.

T'ema Huollo (Huollo ma T'ema) - T'ema is a medium-tall unicorn woman, rather like a humanoid ki-rin, with aspen-leaf ears and a five-inch horn with a slight upward curve (and no spiral) on her forehead. She disguises herself with illusion, taking on a new visage in each new city she visits, hiding her non-human features beneath it or with invisibility. Her actual short fur coat changes color over time as a side effect of her magic (always a color appropriate to horses or humans). She has a fluffy mane of hair which changes color to complement her coat. Her name means "Singer of Songs".

Origin: T'ema is a highly trained magician, able to draw on energetic resonance in order to empower her will. This magic can affect anything which resonates in matter, energy, and/or spirit. She can use illusions, heal, sense or communicate at large distances, and channel large amounts of energy due to her mastery of the form. Unfortunately, it has a drawback: when she uses her power, she must perform a service to balance her use of it. Usually that service is small, such as a gift or act of care, and only required when she uses magic for her personal benefit; sometimes that cost is large, such as leaving her home for a time to aid someone in dire need. She was transported from her world to Earth after one particularly large use of magic; she hasn't said yet on camera why she did it, and she isn't quite sure why this world needed her more than her own.

After becoming homeless in the transition to Earth, T'ema is growing homesick for her house and homeworld. Still, she has a lot of personal coping skills, and her magic empowers her body to be somewhat stronger and more resilient in general.

As side effects of past magical costs not paid, T'ema's fur coat shifts color over time, and in her natural form she has a moderately fascinating aura. While sometimes useful, she regards these as more of a curse since she'd like to be known for herself but not stared at or stalked. Being an alien makes it worse, as she is still learning how to read and use human facial and body expressions, and she can sometimes make mistakes; judging someone's intention is for her more about reading the energies of that person.

T'ema was magically taught English when she was teleported, and speaks a smattering of languages both modern and ancient from her homeworld. She has an excellent singing voice, and occasionally earns money by busking or as gifts from people courting her talents. She hasn't performed for any professional recordings, however. She has an exotic-sounding accent which many humans mistake for somewhere in Asia.

Uniform: None. She wears street clothes, but she tries to dress nicely so it's hard to tell. T'ema at home usually carries a satchel with herbs and ritual tools, but those were all left behind her; replacing them may help with her magic.

Qualities: Expert (+4) Singer, Good (+2) Craftwork, Good (+2) Resilience, Average (+0) Herbalism, Average (+0) Shamanism
Poor (-2) Homeless

Powers: Meta-power: Master (+6) Resonance Magic
Stunts:
* Illusion (includes illusory invisibility; fools cameras but can be penetrated with focused perception)
* Healing/Purification (essentially purifies the form when used to heal; can restore but not regenerate detached limbs; healing the mind and spirit is doable if more difficult, but counseling is often more effective due to the magical cost)
* Energy senses (T'ema has a passive ability from her training which allows for communicating with spirits and sensing various energies both spiritual and mundane, but it can be extended with magic to sense from a distance)
Vulnerability: Backlash Cost: Magic for self-benefit costs service. If it isn't paid, a magical backlash occurs, commensurate with the level of power used.

Motivation: Earn my way home.

(This is Avengers fanfiction. As if you couldn't tell. ;) )

--

When a large squad of armed Skrulls dropped their disguises on New Years' Eve and began firing into the crowd at Times Square, almost everyone tried to run. The big screen began showing demands in six languages, one of them alien, as the crowd crushed itself, individuals suffocating and getting trampled in the panic.

Police directed the wild crowd toward safer exits, while the Avengers, several watching live from Stark Tower, ran at top speed for the Square. But one was already on the scene.

A figure outlined in the lights of police vehicles raised the iconic shield: circles of red, white, and blue with a shining white star in the center.

The Skrulls fired a few potshots, but it didn't matter. The shield stopped their blasts.

Then the figure charged forward at the dozen or so enemies, throwing the shield.

They dodged, but one was struck in the head and didn't get up again.

"Captain!" shouted a policeman, "Behind you!" But the figure was already picking up the shield and turning to catch flankers in the face with it.

( Read more... )

(This was inspired by a discussion between dialecticdreamer and ysabetwordsmith on the ethics of consent and bodily autonomy in science-fiction, and is set in the Blueshift Troupers universe, a sci-fi project about galactic exploration, organic technology, and shapeshifting. In brief, the Gates are techno-organic stargates in space. They have a high chance of altering someone's DNA or bodily structure when entered, causing many worlds to have people adapted for them. Because of this, teams of natural shapeshifters are in high demand in order to explore space and troubleshoot problems across the galaxy.)

Simon refused to look in the mirror the nurse brought. "I am NOT beautiful," the woman said. "I am handsome!" The nurse looked steadily at his patient. Simon continued, saying, "Handsome was once used for any good-looking thing, you know, person or otherwise." Then she narrowed her eyes. "So where is he? I know I'm going to meet God now. Where does he live?"

The nurse shook his head, and set the hand-mirror nearby. "You know they have minds of their own. I really do not understand this religion of yours, but I suppose you know what you're doing." The facts had already been discussed several times as new God-Seekers came through the local Gate looking for their god, who was supposed to be the prime controller of the Gates. They believed that the most faithful would be changed to look perfect, and would speak with Him once on the other side.

Doctor Elles walked in. "Nurse, would you step outside? I need a few moments with my patient." Once the nurse had left, he looked at the person on the bed. "Simon, I'm going to release you shortly. You check out as fully functional, with some extra benefits to boot. The Gate must have felt you needed upgrading. The MRI showed several small pumping muscles on your major veins and arteries, and the arterial sclerosis your prior records indicate has been cleaned up. Your hormones indicate a lower cortisol level than usual, and aside from the gender change, your system should be overall much more resistant to physical stress. I want to note that these changes are not unusual for the Turis destination, with its heavy-world gravity, but most of us don't need those particular alterations."

( Read more... )

This is something I've seen called "demifiction" or "ephemerals" (though the elements of it are hardly ephemeral): in-world supplemental side-pieces, newspaper articles, books and non-fiction material. These are not necessarily stories themselves, but are supporting elements by which a story may or may not be told. These are fictional, focused on a particular setting.

Now forthwith the work!

---

From "A History of Wonder Vol. 1, Saints and Demons" published 1931 by now-defunct Vichy Robber Press of London, UK and re-published 2011 by Common Sense, an imprint of Westinghouse in New York, USA, after a purchase of the original manuscripts. At the original time of publishing it was aimed at the academic market, but with the recent explosion of supers Westinghouse is marketing this series of informative volumes toward everyday nonfiction readers. Note that the phrasing is still in its original style, with the addition of editors' notes between sections and footnotes supplementing the text. The modern edition is now in its fifth printing as this work continues to grow in popularity.

( Read more... )

The sun was drifting low in the orange sky and shadows were growing long. A slim-muscled feminine figure slipped from place to place down the empty road, long legs spanning leagues. Her tail fluttered a bit as she paused next to a road sign, considering the path ahead. There was night yet to cover, and plenty of land between her and her target.

The moon began to rise, and she moved on again, taking the westerly route. It might be longer, but it had better views at night. She needed to know that the land still had beauty in it. As she glanced up at the sky to gauge the time, a bit of yellow fire glittered from her eyes.

Toward morning, the creature rested under the eave of a small house just outside its city's boundary line. There was a fire station just up the road, but they wouldn't arrive in time. She took a slow breath, hand resting on her sore heart, and stepped inside. The birds began to sing sunrise as the sky lightened a little.

"Good morning! I'm surprised you aren't dreaming of cars again," she said to her friend. He looked up from his newspaper and nodded, then sat up and laid it aside.

"I'd expected someone else today. Is it time, then?"

"Sadly. We finished last night, and I was dispatched early."

"Well, I haven't got much to do today. I hope the cats will be all right." Her ears bent back at the thought, her focus briefly elsewhere.

"Your family will find someone."

He nodded. "Take me, Sekhmet. I'm ready."

They ran moments later to the door and into the rising sun.