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gale-the-goddamn-mess · 10 months

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I'm going to ramble about one of my Oc's which I don't show nearly enough attention, and who I really genuinely do love.

Be prepared for a long-ish read though, I really do love her.

Get ready for my gal Freyja Gunnel Lindstrom.

Freyja is difficult to get along with, they tend to have difficulty making good friends and will deflect any proper advances with humor or some form of sarcastic wit. She doesn't want anybody to get close to her and actively tries to push people away from her without being rude or blunt as best as she can. An incredibly stoic person, she will take on enemies 3 or 4 times her size if it means that she would save a civilian. While incredibly cavalier, when the time calls she can drop her casual jokes and jabs at the opponent and become something terrifying.

Freyja had moved to America at an early age from a small town in Sweden and was fascinated by the heroes she saw there, flying, running past and fighting. Oh God the fighting, she would sit there at the top of her apartment building, watching whenever there was a fight going on nearby, enthralled, as there were punches and spikes and explosions- she lived for it, all of it.

She sat in her room trying to move things with her mind until she started crying- she wanted desperately for her abnormality to develop, both of her parents had small ones, her mother with the ability to hover a few inches from the ground and her father being able to stretch out his fingers.

She would watch her parents use theirs in their day-to-day life and be so jealous it actually hurt. It never reared its head until she was at school and she snapped back at the wrong bully and was pushed out of the classroom window, trying to break her legs.

The adrenaline had been enough to kick start her ability and for the first time, she heard three hammer strikes for the first and a fall that should have permanently crippled her, only twisted her ankle, with being pushed out of a window being an extremely stressful situation to be in, triggering her ability.

Soon after understanding her ability and learning to apply in properly, she had finished her time in the school and was soon on her way to become a hero, dubbing herself Valkyrie, she was effective, working hard and saving as many people as possible, she had a good track record too, and despite sometimes being unethical about her work- it didn't stop her from doing what was needed. She did what had to be done.

At least that was until she needed to make a tough decision; she found out why she should have kept her identity a secret. It was an entirely average day and she had decided to visit her parents, it had been a busy week and they had been planning it for some time, dinner was included and it had been a while since Freyja had had the traditional dishes her mother had made for her as a kid, and smiling she pushed open the unlocked door, and stopped in the middle of the room, the smile falling from her face like oil.

The note was short and simple, a phone number and a picture of her parents bound and gagged in some kind of warehouse.

She called the number.

"Valkyrie. I give you a choice. Your parents or 17 civilians. Your choice, your deal, you took choice away from me, so now I give it to you. Call the police or any other hero and they all die, take too long and they all die, if I get a whiff that something is wrong, they all. Die. Freyja… choose."

She was forced to choose the impossible, and so she stayed silent, her mind racing, in the background she could hear her dad crying, and her heart broke, then and there.

"You have 5 seconds, Freyja. Choose."

"5…"

"4…"

"3…"

"2…"

She couldn't speak, her throat was dry and her words wouldn't come, she tried but nothing came out but a coarse gasp.

"1… time up Valkyrie, you lose." The phone was cut off.

A few days later, 19 bodies were found along with a former inmate who'd managed to break out of prison after Freyja had put her there, two of them were her mother and father, all that she could think of was that they would have thought she was going to be there to save them, their daughter, the hero would save them, it was her job after all- she loved them right? They died crying, begging to be saved.

Still, 6 years later, she remembers every vivid detail.

Ability:

Three Hammers:

Three hammers works in three stages, for each level of energy the user experiences, the potency of the advantages they recieve increase incrementally, the levels are signified by the sound of a hammer blow in the user’s head, triggered by the level of energy the user currently possesses:

First hammer:

The user’s strength increases to be able to crack bricks when hit and easily snap bones, they can lift approximately 450lbs. This level of energy can come about by listening to music which manages to pump up the user for example, or something similar, in this case, it would be power metal.

Second Hammer:

At the second strike of the hammer, the user is able to take a lot more damage than they would normally be able to- it densens their bone structure, their muscle density increases and generally their body toughens able to withstand impacts similar to being hit with their own maximum strength, only taking minimal amounts of damage. This level of energy is equivalent to drinking a large, high caffeine energy drink or a high strength caffeine tablet.

Third Hammer:

The third hammer can only be achieved by being in highly increased stress, which induces an adrenaline fueled boost of energy for as long as the state lasts. At the level of the third hammer, it pushed the level of strength and durability to the maximum at the cost of sane thought. Their lifting strength hit approximately 600-700 lbs and their body toughens up even further, able to withstand their own strength with only minimal damage and being able to crash through a brick wall.

Ability Drawbacks:

Due to the general nature of the ability, the user is almost constantly experiencing an energy crash and they have almost no sleep after using their ability due to the sheer volume of energy that has rushed through their system.

After achieving the Third hammer the user promptly falls unconscious after their adrenaline rush is over, at a maximum of 10 minutes, their body struggles to sustain it and they will have a full 8 hour sleep wherever the boost runs out and will be effectively dead to the world, nothing will be able to wake them up- this is one of the very few ways she can get actual sleep.

During the use of the third hammer, they have a reduced capacity for rational thought and work almost entirely on instincts to survive, protect, fight etc…

The effects of the first two hammers however are a lot less extreme- coming down from that level of energy causes acute tiredness, essentially, they consistently have an extreme sugar crash until they have a good night's sleep, which they find almost impossible. This affects their general reason and non-ability related combat because they're so tired constantly, unless they use their ability which just makes them more tired in the long run, further decreasing their efficiency until they finally sleep- a vicious cycle.

The time limits and cool down periods of the first two hammers are reasonably similar:

After five minutes or so, the music will begin to lose its effect, the feeling of energy she got from it tapering out on its own, even if she happens to change song, it will not help, to keep the strength she needs to boost herself up to the second hammer.

The first and second hammer lasts for 5, 6, or 7 minutes, but the second hammer depends on the potency of the caffeinated drink/ product they have consumed.

After the first two hammers have been used, similarly to the third, she needs a rest, considering her lack of sleep, a lie down for an hour is enough to give a valiant attempt to bring her down from her caffeine high- if by some miracle, she does manage to power nap, twenty minutes is enough

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gale-the-goddamn-mess · 10 months

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Here's one of my earlier finished pieces, it's kind of short so it shouldn't take too long to read.

Never could Murdok remember feeling the way they did now, as they walked up towards the man on the street corner, a vague thought flitted through their head before being trampled down. Perhaps this was a bad idea. They’d done things similar to it before, but something of this magnitude was downright frightening. As they moved into position and sipped one hand in their pocket, they guy on the street corner glanced up from their phone and smiled, not unkindly.

“Whaddya want kid? You want a good time? I got slag, slump, gloom and even some happy if you need it.” he laughs, misinterpreting Murdok’s hesitation for nervousness. “What’s the youngest person you’ve sold this to?” Their voice was quiet, yet it carried across the 6 feet that was between the two of them easily. They glanced at a young child, maybe twelve or so, walking with their mother, “Would you sell it to them?” The man shook his head, in fact, he hadn’t. He sold drugs, but always turned away the children, he wasn’t sure about the other dealers though, he explained, suddenly wary of this stranger. He was older, but this kid was something strange, and he inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when Murdok nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Where do you get it?”

This last question threw the man off guard, they all got it from a warehouse, he explained, it was four blocks north, covered in graffiti, he assured Murdok, you won’t miss it. So, wearing a hoodie, trainers and a pair of jeans, the slim figure of Murdok slouched their way four blocks to the north, their orange hair reflecting in the sunlight, filtered through the urban concrete jungle they now called home. Stopping abruptly in front of the aforementioned warehouse, Murdok pulled their hood up over their conspicuous hair and sucked in a deep breath as they placed their hand over a very small keyhole in the secure looking steel door. They closed their eyes and felt the heat swell in their palm as their concentration built. Opening their eyes, they glanced down at the now red hot lock and smiled.

Someone had been guarding the door from the inside. If they heard a knock, they would slide open a peep hole and see who was there If the were recognised, the door would be opened and the employee would be let in to finish their shift, listing how much had been sold and depositing the money before leaving to do whatever it is drug dealers do in their spare time. Today, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and the door man was in fact a woman, a big one at that. roughly 240 lbs of muscle, she had been chosen because of her intimidating presence. Her mother called her princess still, and she protested, yet secretly enjoyed still being doted on.

The door thumped, and she took her time walking over to the hatch, irritated, she had just been texting her girlfriend, they were planning something later tonight for her in-laws, she’d been wearing a smile for the majority of the day and couldn’t wait to be relieved from duty. Opening the hatch, she squinted her eyes, Mark must be real early to be knocking now, probably just a slow day she supposed, as her eyes swivelled, finally coming to rest on a figure running towards the door.

Murdok gritted their teeth as they jumped, feet outwards towards the door. The now cooled and brittle metal snapped under the stress of their kick, blowing the door inwards. Without missing a beat, they stood back up and dusted themself off, stepping in and then over the large woman who had caught the full blast of the door as it was kicked in, knocking her out. Murdok was glad they didn’t need to fight that mountain of muscle.

The next door was a lot less secure, a simple wooden one, that wasn’t even locked. Moving through that one and out of the lobby, they walked quietly into the main warehouse and scanned the area, seeing a raised platform and a small room. Even though the windows’ blinds were drawn, they could still see a soft light emanating from within. That was where they wanted to be. The stairs to their left were made of metal and were a simple latticework of steel, strong, but still cheap, they could be found anywhere. The crosswalk was similarly inclined, yet as their focus stepped away from the actual stairs, it returned upon the four people standing in front of it. One of which was loosely holding a baseball bat, while two had knuckle dusters, the final one holding a rusted looking machete.

The first, Murdok referred to as Skull, attributed to the Skull cap he was wearing, began to say some kind of funny comment about the teenager breaking into a drug den, but they didn’t quite manage to finish as Murdok sprinted forwards, knocking the hastily assembled attack away, feeling the bat glance off their shoulder. Skull, horribly confused, stepped back and attempted a swing with his metal bat, aiming for the side of Murdok’s stomach. Hitting only air, Skull attempted to rectify their mistake, bringing the bat around for another swing at the same time Murdok ducked and punched out both of his kneecaps, as Skull went down, Murdok responded with a wicked uppercut, combining the momentum of both of their actions into one hit. He was pretty sure Skull wouldn't be getting up without a doctor.

Turning their attention to the others, Murdok shrugged slightly, “You can leave.” They said reasonably, “I’m not going to stop you.” One of them laughed, a dull hollow sound, this one would be Joker, they held a machete, emboldened by numbers, he brandished his crude weapon, “Oh, right yeah buddy, sure thing, we can just go, you could totally kick our asses, all of them.” Joker nudged the guy to his right, who was wearing an oversized ripped hoodie and was swiftly slipping on his knuckle dusters, almost in sync to the one next to him, these would be The Twins.

The first of the twins nudged the second and they began to flank the intruder slowly, as if they were trying not to make any sudden movements, as if Murdok was a T-Rex. They watched the two of them move in opposite directions as they dropped their centre of gravity lower, bending their knees and widening their stance. At that moment, they decided to test themself, how far could they go without using their ability against three opponents? They were about to find out.

Joker was the first one to attack, they moved the machete in a chopping motion, as if they were attempting to cleave Murdok’s head in two. It was side-stepped and Joker overshot, hitting the blade against the floor. The first twin was next, throwing a brass covered punch at Murdok’s face, this one connected and dazed, they dropped down to their knees, narrowly avoiding a punch thrown by the second twin. Joker had recovered and swung again with the rusted blade, guaranteed to add tetanus to the growing list of injuries Murdok was sustaining, this time, he swept the blade horizontally, attempting a decapitation, which was thwarted by Murdok rolling forwards, quickly pushing themself up behind Joker’s guard and headbutting him as hard as they possibly could. Joker went down and Murdok returned their attention to the second twin just in time to watch the punch connect with their nose.

Staggering back, Murdok reappraised their opponents, they worked in almost perfect sync. Individually they weren’t that skilled, Murdok could recognise the work of an amateur and this was it, however, they complimented each other better than chocolate and orange, or perhaps tomato and cheese… Murdok was not used to this. Bringing their hand up to their face, Murdok smelt and then saw blood as they withdrew their hand, yet they were still determined to win without using their ability- cue the music.

It was the first twin’s turn to attack first this time, which was anticipated. Murdok managed to grab his wrist and kick out his knee before the second twin threw another punch, hoping to free their brother. All in futility though, Murdok ducked and pulled the awkwardly angled arm across their back before straightening up suddenly. They felt the visceral crunch of the joint breaking at the same time as the second twin hit the first’s face, exactly where Murdok’s had been moments ago. Murdok dropped the first twin and faced the second, still with blood dripping down their face as their opponent screamed and threw caution to the wind, punching full force at their stomach. It was simple to avoid, and they didn’t want to drag this out any further, so with one final punch to the final twin’s face, the light went out behind his eyes and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Murdok let out a heavy breath and slumped slightly as they began to mop their nose with their hand, the bleeding was slowing down now and would probably completely stop soon, but it was still going to be difficult to explain- it didn't seem to be broken, which was a good sign.

They made their way quietly up the stairs connecting to the walkway, heading to the raised office, each of their footsteps making a resounding, clank, as they connected with the metal grating. As they got there, Murdok crouched and listened for any noises through the keyhole and satisfied there weren't any, they made their way inside, yet again using their trick to kick the locked door down.

They left a few minutes later through the caved in metal door onto the streets, holding a large, but now rolled up map and a few pieces of paper, stuffing them away into various pockets, they left, hoping to avoid any possible police that would be arriving soon- it was the middle of the day- they didn't dare miss curfew again.

It was soon after this thought had grazed their mind, that a terrible pain shot across the side of their body, like a truck had just hit them and the next few seconds would remain a confusion, even as Murdok tried to recall them much later. One moment upright, the next slumped against the wall of the alley, vision blurred and blood leaking from the back of their head. Through the blur, they could only just make out a large silhouette blotting out any light that had been filtering through the rough cloud coverage.

Eyes widening quickly, they rolled just quick enough to avoid the fist which may very well have ended this encounter there and then, before unsteadily raising themself to their feet, still barely able to breathe from the impact, their vision managed to hold on to focus as they stared at the figure bearing down on them.

They were big, must be at least 300lbs. Squinting, Murdok made out the boots the man was wearing as one rushed towards their face, and bringing their hands up in a vague defence, they were yet again flung back to the wall of the alley, more prepared this time, ducking instantly as a second kick connected with the wall just above their head.

The man’s expression was grim, like a storm given features, and he was barely even breathing deeply. “The map. I won’t ask you twice.” Not quite trusting themself to speak, Murdok grinned and flipped the man the bird, feeling the vice grip over their finger just for a split second before they heard the snap.

Briefly they stared at the contorted finger before the pain hit them, cluting it to their chest, Murdok slid slowly down the wall, watching as their finger slowly ballooned to at least double its size.

“Map.”

“...N- no…”

Through the tears now rimming their eyes, Murdok watched as the man grabbed a second finger, the snap sounding just like the crackle of a fire as it burned… it burned… they burnt… I burnt them… He-... I won’t, I can’t… I…

The unknown was supposed to be the scary part of the dark, the fear of not knowing what was there, the uncertainty of what you can't see. So why when Murdok stared into the dark behind that stranger, did they know exactly what was there, and still feel that shiver down the back of the neck?

The fire… the smell… the screams, the hand reaching out… the hand, the scarred, red, raw, burnt hand, clotted with blood and melting skin, its owner already long dead. The hand… The hand…

A surprised noise involuntarily erupted from the man as he looked down to see a hand gripping his wrist, pushing it back towards his chest. Murdok opened their eyes slowly, expression now almost completely devoid of fear, their hands hanging limp beside them as the man took a step back, snarling, jabbing a knee up to hit Murdok in the face. But to his surprise another hand materialised, catching the impact of the attack mere inches before it hit its mark.

Murdok stood very still and watched, enthralled, as the slightly opaque, shifting, golden hand twisted forcefully, dislocating the man's kneecap. They knew they didn't stand a chance, regardless of the change in their ability, so on unsteady legs, taking advantage of the distraction, Murdok bolted, leaving the grunting man behind him.

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