#if these two ever met it would cause more chaos than the entire multiverse can deal with i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxtha-blog · 4 years

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So apperently I wrote a oneshot fanfic and forgot about it for almost 2 years

And because it's comedy fucking gold, and also some quality post-comic Ace content, I thought I'd share it with you people here.

Without further adieu, may I present to you

A Casual Encounter With Ace

Ink knew very little of Ace. He had met him once, briefly, in the last moments before his AU disappeared into nothingness, Ace sneaking through the portal Dream had created and slipping away from the destruction of his own home like it was nothing more than an average Saturday. Ink barely had the chance to talk to him, didn’t even know his name, he just knew that there was a flamboyant top hat wearing skeleton that enjoyed stealing things and harassing Dream, prancing around the multiverse and causing chaos with no restrictions. Of course, Ink planned to catch him… eventually… if he hadn’t forgotten… multiple times. But it was Ace who seemed to catch him instead.

Ink had been sitting in the snow, crouched behind the trees of Underswap, checking up on the stability of the timeline, when he heard a voice behind him. At first, he thought it was Blue, the only one who would know to look for him there, but the accent threw him off. Ink turned slowly, curious, and saw the black and red skeleton leaning against his staff behind him, smiling modestly as he surveyed the rest of the underground as Ink did.

Ink paused for a second. “Hey– Don’t I know you…?” He tapped a pencil against his chin, working with all his might to remember.

“Perhaps, dear sir, perhaps indeed, for I am quite popular, simply ask my wonderous fans, who may be reading this right now! Which does remind me, do you ever realize that we transcend not only drawings and comic books, but also code, writing, and animations. It’s quite crazy when you think about it, I mean, just look at you. What? One of the most popular characters in the entire fandom created by a mere teenager! Mind boggling and simply astounding, our existence, both of us in fact, relies only on two simple teenagers bringing us to life.” Ace talked mellifluously, his accent smooth and precise, as though someone had mashed together a French and British accent and added a gay flare to it. He talked incredibly fast, as though to confuse everyone with his slur of words, despite them not being slurred in the slightest.

Ink stood up, brushing the snow off his sweater. “Wait a second!” He glanced up again his eyes widening. “Aren’t you that magician guy?!”

Ace tilted his head, intrigued.

“Aha!” Ink declared in triumph. “I finally found you!”

“Magician guy is quite vague. And a guy, no, no, dear sir, not at all, I simply am I, an illusionist, a magician, a slight bit insane, but far saner than you, so I must ask for you to be a tad bit more specific for fear I may misinterpret what you wish to say and be unable to reply!” Ace spun his staff around, giving Ink a slight smirk.

“You’re from that AU- Oh what was it.” Ink spun his hands through the air, churning his memory around. “Magicwhatever, Lucktale, Underchance, Chancyluck, Chance, Chance something, Chancetale-? CHANCETALE!” He put his hands on his hips proudly.

“A dead name, no?” Ace raised his eye sockets into a quizzical expression.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re still here, which means you’re screwing up timelines. Which means I gotta stop ya!” With a quick flip of his arm behind his head, Ink pulled his paintbrush out in front of him and pointed it towards Ace.

“Stop me? Stop me! Oh, how wonderful!” Ace’s eyes lit up as he spun on his heel with glee.

“You’re supposed to be worried,” Ink pointed out. “Like, oh no he’s going to catch me?! Whatever shall I do! And then I go, heck yeah I’m going to catch you! Because I’ve got a super cool paintbrush!”

“I dare say you do not.”

“What do you mean? My paintbrush is awesome, I mean just look at it–" he stopped. "Where’s my paintbrush?” Ink’s hands were empty, his fingers grasping at the cold air around them and nothing more. He wondered if his memory had lapsed again, but he could have sworn he had just been holding it. He reached back only to grasp at the air once more.

Ace casually spun the paintbrush in his hands, still standing stationary a dozen or so feet away, studying the fine patterns on the metal clasps. “Quite a nice paintbrush, indeed, I do not disagree with that, however, you do not have it, therefore your statement was false.” Without another word, the paintbrush disappeared into thin air, and Ace merely tilted his top hat.

Ink started to take things a little more seriously, his smile fading. He straightened. “This’ll be interesting.”

“Oh, tis always interesting when I’m here! Just ask your dear friend Dream!”

“We’re not really friends,” Ink said with a shrug. “He just happens to be useful sometimes.”

“Oh my! What wonderful news we have here! I’ll be sure to keep it in mind to use against you so that I can slowly break apart your relationship until you are both mortal enemies in which case I can use your turmoil to my advantage!” He clasped his hands together, smiling softly, before adding, "If need be."

Ink stared for a second. “You know if you really want to be evil, you shouldn’t announce what you’re going to do out loud.”

“Evil? No, I’m not evil. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever consider myself to be evil, for that would mean I am profoundly immoral, and although I am profound, immoral I am not. I know precisely what is right and wrong, and good and bad, and have no trouble discerning between the two. I simply choose to do good and choose to do bad based on the situation and outcome it will provide me, and dear sir, it is quite a bore to be simply one or the other, is it not? I mean, you’re one to speak, think of the things you have done and the people you have hurt for your own benefit, quite chaotic indeed, but not evil. Few would call the fabulous Ink evil. Therefore I am not evil. I am just spontaneous, whether that be something pleasant or something disagreeable.”

“You really do talk a lot,” Ink said, crossing his arms.

“Tis a showman thing.”

“Showman?”

“Oh! Would you like to see a show?!”

“Not really. I was in the middle of–”

Ace clapped his hands together cutting Ink off, his staff forming between his palms as he pulled them apart. He twirled his staff like a baton before stamping it down into the snow and pulling his top hat off his head, taking a slight bow before beginning, “A magic show! For the fabulous Encre!”

Ace began to perform his dazzling illusions. As real as reality, yet as mad as a dream. He swept up beside Ink and before Ink could say a word, slipped his scarf right over his head and turned it a kaleidoscope of brown butterflies. Ink went to protest, but a butterfly zipped over top of his mouth and turned into a brown piece of duct tape. The rest of the butterflies froze, falling to ice cubes on the ground before bursting into tiny glass shards that glimmered with little lights.

“Butterflies were not meant for the underground! How unfortunate. The terms and conditions said nothing about turning to glass, however! Then again, I did not read them. Alas, now I must clean this all up.” Ace spun back around Ink, standing over top of the pile of glass shards.

Ink shouted, but his words came out as muffled gibberish. He tried to pull the duct tape off, but it refused to budge. He waved his arms around, exasperated.

“What’s that dear sir? You wish to see more magic tricks? Well, I wish to perform more as well!” Ace spread his arms out, the glass shards levitating off the ground around him before spinning into a small ball and transforming into a lightbulb above Ace's fingertips. He caught it out of the air, studying it closely, before looking back up at Ink.

“I would put this above my head and say I do so happen to have an idea, but that would be terribly cliché, would it not?”

“Mphfffff!”

“I wholeheartedly agree! I’ll put it inside my mouth instead!”

Ace slipped the lightbulb between his teeth, smiling deviously.

“Now dear sir,” he said with zero hindrance, despite the lightbulb clamped between his teeth. “It is a well-known fact that when one puts a lightbulb inside their mouth, it shall go in quite fine and then never ever come out again in one piece! Today I am here to prove that theory wrong and promote the putting of light bulbs in your mouth everywhere!” Ace let out a small laugh before quickly inhaling the lightbulb.

Ink’s eyes narrowed, giving up his attempts to talk through the duct tape.

“Where ever has it gone? Ah! I know!” Ace reaches a hand inside his left eye socket and pulls the lightbulb into the place his heart-shaped pupil should have been.

“And now to turn it on!”

With a slight flick of his wrist, Ace summoned an egg out of midair, then cracked it against the nearest tree. From the cracked shell sprang a toaster, which Ace caught in his hands as though he had done this many a time. He quickly plugged the toaster into the tree and waited a few seconds, but nothing seemed to happen.

Ink watched, both baffled and annoyed, only able to express his feelings through a few grunts and shakes of his head. Ink had seen many things over his life, AUs full of nothing but Sanses, characters made of watermelons, atrocious crossovers, but nothing quite as strange as this.

“Oh, I see what I’m doing wrong! Forgive me, dear sir, I have never used a toaster in my life! I run solely off of white chocolate!” Ace unplugged the toaster from the tree and threw it as far as he could muster. “Farewell, dear toast maker. I shall miss thee.”

He reached inside the small red pouch on his shirt, barely bigger than a golf ball, and pulled a full sized hair dryer.

Why do you have a hairdryer?! Ink shouted, his eyes wide, but it simply came out as “Wff duh vu hvv a her dyr?!”

“For this, dear sir, why else.” Ace put the end of the hairdryer up to his eye and turned it on. It wasn’t plugged into anything, the cord dangling around Ace's ankles. As the hairdryer whirred to life, the light bulb flickered on.

Ace pulled the hair dryer away, making it disappear into a flurry of little pink sparkles before taking a long bow, one of his eyes now made of a little yellow glowing light bulb.

Ink clapped sarcastically.

“Why thank you! Thank you! Truly an amusing time we've had here today!” He pranced over to Ink, patting him on the head twice. When Ink tried to grab him, his entire vision spun around and he was suddenly facing the complete opposite direction.

“Now, now, that’s no way to treat someone who just performed for you.”

Ink turned on his heels, looking around for Ace, but he was nowhere to be seen. The piece of duct tape had vanished.

“Farewell, dear Ink, until you wish for another magic show!”

The voice came from nowhere and echoed throughout the trees before fading into nothingness. On the ground, there was a small paper card. Ink bent over and picked it up, flipping it open. Inside was a tiny brush, smaller than a thumbtack, taped to the inside of the card with a small heart and delicate cursive handwriting: I believe this belonged to you?

#undertale #chancetale fanfic #chancetale writing #Ace and Ink #Chancetale fic #Fanfic #undertale au #Please dont eat lightbulbs

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astyle-alex · 3 years

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[FANFIC - Destiel & JayTim]

Multiverse Mishap | DCU Bat Family x Supernatural

Fandom: DCU Bat Family x Supernatrual Pairings: Destiel, Jay x Tim Rating: Teen Warnings: Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Heavy Angst (with a happy ending), Implied Underage Prostitution Total Word Count: ~156k | SPN vers = 76k / Bat vers = 80k

Summary:

One slip up in the lab has Tim Drake careening into a new world where things are rather dramatically different from the world he’s used to. Fortunately, this is not his first rodeo. He knows how to handle this nonsense, more or less at least. Unfortunately, the people of the world he’s wound up in see things a little differently. And when Dick Grayson and Jason Todd mount an ill-conceived rescue mission, things get complicated very quickly.

When Team Free Will is at their lowest (well, their lowest as of YET, at least) with Castiel missing (and probably human), they get thrown a lifeline. Charlie calls with a lead on a strange young-man who bears a stunning resemblance to their MIA angel. Even with the world on a precipice around them, Sam and Dean won’t leave their angel out to dry—Dean especially has a few missteps he’d like to make up for… If only he could find some way to get through to one hella conked out Angel of the Lord.

This project started as a distraction and got WAY out of hand, but I’m actually really excited about it. I’ll be posting it as two separate stories on Ao3 (one form the Bat Family PoV and one from the SPN family PoV, both of which will be updating HERE...) with new chapters going up weekly, but only one chapter from each version.

As excited as I am about it, my schedule is currently in shambles because I got an opportunity to get the COVID Vaccine and it’s thrown my whole schedule into utter chaos. I’m hopeful that I’ll get back on track soon, but I can’t guarantee when I’ll be able to post here or on Ao3.

Since I can schedule posts on Patreon, that updating schedule will be much more definitively regular. The second chapters of each version are already available to Patrons and should open up to all viewers by Monday!

- Multiverse Mishap | SPN Vers - Chapter 2

- Multiverse Mishap | SPN Vers - Chapter 3

- Multiverse Mishap | Bat Vers - Chapter 2

Read the first chapter of the SPN version below (with Charlie playing a super spy and getting Sam & Dean a lead on a maybe-Castiel / maybe-alien-infiltrator) and I hope you all have a fabulous Easter Weekend (whether or not you celebrate religiously, you gotta admit the season-exclusive candy is pretty dang great!)! ^_~

A bit of fiddling, that’s all it was.

Well, that’s all it was supposed to be.

A device that plays with space-time and the very weave of whatever it was that spanned the gap between dimensions?

How could anyone just let something like that gather dust in an archive?

It functioned how it was meant to, it was only that what it was meant to do was cause harm… If they just tweaked it a bit, just a little, gave it an anchor point and limited the scale of possibilities… If they yanked down the juice that kept it powered to a more moderated level…

It could save lives.

So… fiddling.

Just a bit, here and there and on weekends when there wasn’t anything big going on.

The stupid thing wasn’t even turned on most of the time.

It was inert and dead as fricken paperweight (which honestly is what the fiddler in question had mostly been using it for)…

And then… it wasn’t.

One button, a loose screw, the slip of a paperclip…

A big flash of blinding light.

Silence, like the absolute nothing right before the tidal wave hits.

And in that silence, a tiny, over-caffeinated little voice:

“… Oops…”

_ _ _

Chapter 1 – MIA Angel or Alien Infiltrator?

Charlie Bradbury knows she’s awesome.

But there’s the standard awesome that any Queen of Moondoor is simply by nature of being epic enough to have achieved the throne to start with...

And then there’s the awesome that is having created a automated dark web trawling program to track the world’s Big Weirds (and only the very BIGGEST of the Big Weirds) and having that super secret extra level deep vault program actually work.

Well, of course it worked, but it like worked.

It found an Angel.

Sorta.

It found a something.

And an MIA angel, who was not exactly an angel anymore, but also couldn’t really pass as truly human, and who was still on like every watchlist ever (magical, criminal, meme-spirational, etc), but is somehow still entirely off the fricken radar?

Yeah. BIG Weird.

Said angel-not-angel popping up at a Biggerson’s in Ohio with no shoes, more money than god, an insane caffeine tolerance and absolutely no idea how to function inside a Walmart?

HELLA Big Weird.

So Charlie, being the awesome Queen that she is (and being acutely aware of what false hope here could do to the people in particular question with this) went to check it out herself.

Personally.

And, personally, she can say that this kid is the weirdest thing she’s ever seen, and after having day-tripped out to the literal Land of Oz a few times over… well, that’s sayin’ something.

Charlie’s met Castiel.

Not exactly her type, but she could see how that divine slice of puppy in a trench coat could be seen as something of a serious snack.

Though… If he weren’t an angel, she’d swear he was an alien.

But, like, a cool alien.

Much less spy-trained infiltrator than innocent human-admirer who wants to experience the local flavor on his little vacation out to the Milky Way’s most interesting backwater, Sol-3.

And the kid she finds in Ohio… is not that guy.

Not really.

For starters, she’s not entirely sure he’s old enough to drink alcohol.

And he’s… not looking for Sam and Dean ( which is seriously a BIG red flag for deciding whether this particular angel-not-angel is the right angel-not-angel).

He is looking for something, though.

Something he seems to think is in Kansas, near-ish enough to the Bunker’s coordinates to make her question the ‘not looking for Sam and Dean thing’ (but the absolute dinosaur of a smartphone he’s working on to pull up maps could totally just call the bunker, if he wanted to… or any of the plethora of emergency numbers the Boys have set up…).

Charlie’s looking on from a Very Inconspicuous post in the booth two tables away from the kid in the red hoodie and she can feel his frustration with the device radiating off him like physical Force pulses. Fortunately, proto-Sith this kid is not, and all the tables remain table-y.

She’s watching him fight with the internet to find something and his device’s crappy security means she didn’t even have to work hard to get her own screen to show what’s happening on his. He’s definitely looking at Kansas, at going to Kansas— Lebanon in particular.

Messy black hair, big blue eyes, grumpy face to rival any Netscape feline…

Looking for Lebanon and totally out of sync with humanity…

And… his oversized red hoodie just happens to have the 2-D rendering of a big black pair of wings stitched into its backside— stemming right from where they should on the kid’s shoulder blades if the wings were real.

Charlie’s not really gullible enough to believe in signs from God anymore…

But if she were… well, that would be pretty convincingly Divine Sign-like.

So, she makes the call.

Sam picks up on the third ring.

“So, you know how like the main character always has dramatically weird colored hair and sits in the second to last desk by the window?”

With a heavy sigh filled with enough affection to make Charlie’s insides feel all squiggly and warm, Sam says, “No, Charlie, I have absolutely no idea.”

“Well, they do.”

“Okay. And?”

“They are Narrative Significant, they stick out from the background in like a big way, but not just in like a ‘doing main character things’ kinda way,” Charlie rambles, trying to find her point buried under the spiraling metaphor.

“Charlie, do you know what time it is?”

“Uh, 2, maybe, 3am. I think. But that may have been like three coffees ago,” Charlie prattles off automatically before veering back on track, “Anyway. The point is that I think I found a main character. He’s not the character I thought he should be, though. He doesn’t look right. He’s too young. And no trench coat. But he is hella out of sync… and the blue eyes and black hair and everything else…”

There’s a pause as Sam’s non-caffeinated brain tries to keep up with Charlie’s infodump.

“Trench coat?”

“I think I found him, Sam,” Charlie whispers. “I think I found Castiel. Well, I found someone weird enough to maybe be Castiel, in the Castiel kind of way, and he’s looking for a way to get to Lebanon, so…”

Much more alert, Sam asks, “Where are you?”

“Ohio. Quaint little place called Granville,” Charlie reports. “It’s a pretty straight shot to the Bunker, but it’s like 14 hours on the road and I’m not sure the gods of caffeine consumption will really be cool with me pushing their bounty that hard…”

“Don’t try too hard to get him to go anywhere with you, see if you can just offer to pay for a motel room for the night,” Sam instructs, the sounds of a pack being prepped with one hand clanging about in the background. “We’ll be in Granville before noon.”

“What if he really wants to head out?”

“Take it slow and text us when you get gas, we’ll meet you in Indianapolis.”

He’s using ‘Serious Sam’ voice.

It’s the voice that makes panicking bunny rabbits being chased by wendigos settle down for half a second so Dean can frickin torch those ghost-y cannibal creepers.

Only, in this case, the wendigos aren’t cannibal forest ghosts chomping down on campers. This time, the Big Bad that Dean is unequivocally about to destroy is approximately 909 miles of US Highway 36.

It makes Charlie feel a little bit better about nearly everything that’s wrong.

She hangs up with Sam after promising to keep the updates coming, and looks back at the kid who could be Castiel.

Only to find him looking back.

For a minute, she’s worried that he heard her talking to Sam about him.

But he seems kinda zonked.

And he doesn’t look upset or embarrassed or angry, so…

She is the only other person on this side of the Biggerson’s, (and really she’s the only non-staff member in this Biggerson’s all told besides the kid himself), so it’s really not that strange for her to be the dust mote in motion that’s wound up drawing the kid’s eye.

He’s not really expressing anything.

He’s just looking.

It’s weird.

Whelp, he’s got that creepy unblinking stare down pat, bird-like head-tip and all.

The kind of stare that’s not angry or judgmental but feels more clinical than anything else, like he’s seeing through the bones and skin and sinew to the soul that’s underneath.

Dissecting it and diagnosing it…

It makes her shiver.

But she plasters on a smile and says, “Hey. You wanna refill?”

The kid looks down at his empty coffee cup.

He blinks, real slow like.

Then he nods.

Relief floods Charlie.

Step One, making with the contact with the Target. Check.

In her experience that’s usually been the hardest part of these things.

Not that she really has much experience in ‘these things’…

But still, Score 1 for the Queen, yeah?

She signals to a waitress for two more cups of coffee, shots of espresso boosting both of them. It’s like a weird AU of a sleezy bar beat, a remixed mark meets con-woman kinda thing.

“So, kid, what’s your name?”

“Shouldn’t you tell me yours first?”

Charlie shrugs. “Well, generally yeah, that is the convention. But I like being unconventional, I guess.”

Really, it’s that she hasn’t quite decided what name to give him.

He blinks expectantly, head tipping over again.

Realizing that she’s already giving up ground in this pseudo-battle of wills and whatnot, Charlie sighs heavily and says, “I’m Charlie, Charlie Bradbury. Geek extraordinaire.”

The kid nods, visibly internalizing the information.

Trying really hard not to be perturbed by that, Charlie barrels on to say, “I see that tablet of yours is gone a bit wonky. You looking for something in Kansas? I might be able to fix your tech or find what you’re looking for with mine.”

“My tablet…” With big owl eyes, the kid glances down at the piece of crap barely smart enough to call a screen and gives a plaintive little huff. “It is… insufficient.”

Charlie gives a laugh that only sounds two-thirds forced and says, “Understatement, buddy. You’re grand at it.”

The kid simply frowns.

“So,” she says, drum-rolling her fingers on the plastic tabletop as she leans into the leading questions. “Tell me what’s your name and what you’re looking for in Kansas and we’ll see if I can work my magic, huh?”

The kid’s eyes narrow suspiciously on the word ‘magic’, but he gives no other reaction.

For a solid minute, easy, they just kinda sit there.

And then the kid downs a full cup of espresso-boosted coffee like it’s a bottle of watered down Gatorade and flashes Charlie the stiffest stretch of smile she’s ever seen on any face that still looks mostly-human.

“My name’s Alvin,” he tells her with all the bland panache of a used car salesman. “Alvin Draper. And honestly? I’m looking for a hole in the universe.”

Charlie almost bursts out laughing.

The kid— Alvin— spots the reaction. He glowers, quite impressively, to be honest.

“Well, Alvin, that’s the fakest fake-name I’ve ever heard, but I think I can help with the ‘hole in the universe’ thing,” she tells him.

Alvin’s frowning again, it’s adorable and endearing in ways it really shouldn’t be.

“One problem, though,” she lays out. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific about which hole in the universe or tear in the fabric of reality your talking about.”

Taken entirely aback, Alvin huffs, “Is it a commonplace occurrence to have your universe ripped open, then?”

“Well, not exactly. It’s more like our universe is the knit-scarf version of a life-raft,” Charlie explains, wheezing a bit as the metaphor sinks perfectly into a crack she didn’t quite realize she still needed to find a way to fill. “Things here aren’t… Well, uh, how many apocalypses have you fended off this week?”

“You’re really just gonna roll with the implicit declaration that I’m from another universe and you’re not going to question my sanity?”

Alvin looks like he’s suddenly questioning her sanity.

For a beat, Charlie feels insulted.

But really, his reaction is the more logical one.

Maybe Charlie should start trying to talk to more normies here soon, she’s totally lost touch with what constitutes a ‘reasonable reaction to weird shit’.

“Whelp, I’m not a Time Lord or anything,” she confesses, “but I’ve had enough contact with the Supernatural to know how to spot someone who’s brushed up against something ugly in the dark and is kinda freaking out about it. You fit the bill, Alvin.”

The kid rolls his eyes.

It could be an angel-learned-it-from-Dean thing, it really could be.

The weight of the sarcasm is just that strong.

“Fine, yes. ‘Alvin’ is not my real name,” he admits.

Then he casts a wicked smile her way that almost makes her rethink the ‘learned it from Dean’ idea, because this is… creepy in an almost Demon kinda way… in an almost Leviathan way. The grin is so unnerving that Charlie almost misses his next words:

“But you know, I’m pretty damn sure that ‘Charlie’ isn’t yours.”

“Yeah? Well, darn. Ya got me,” she breathes, trying to make herself remember that the Leviathan are gone, that she didn’t even see Cas when he was one of them.

In any other circumstance, Charlie would be reaching for the Borax.

But this angel-not-angel (and maybe-but-probably-not-demon-or-leviathan) kid whose name is definitely not Alvin, notices her sudden stiffness.

Immediately, he softens.

“Hey, what happened? You okay?”

Charlie shrugs. “You wouldn’t happen to be allergic to a certain 19th century boron-containing sodium compound, would ya?”

“Sodium borate? Like Borax? Can’t say I am,” the kid assures. “Any particular reason?”

“Uh, the word ‘Leviathan’ mean anything to you? Like specific, human-livestock-eating, double-tongued with lots of teeth lizard-men people-imitators specific? ‘Cause you just really reminded me of one there. And like I had a friend go Darkside… well, a lotta my friends have actually gone Darkside, but there was one and he… he’s missing still and well, bad things happen to my friends when they go missing.”

“Like apocalypses?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Really? Literal apocalypses? How exactly literal?”

“Um, pick a holy book at random? We’ve probably hit most of them by now,” Charlie admits, with a discomfited shrug as she vaguely wonders how she ended up on this side of the metaphorical interrogation table. “I think the first one was the Judeo-Christian one, they took things pretty literal. Michael-Lucifer prize fight and all…”

“Okay…” the kid says, finally sounding a little thrown, “but you stopped that one?”

“Yeah,” she tells him.

“So where are you now?”

“Somewhere between God’s little sister throwing a world-ending temper tantrum and you know a Luci-spawn antichrist accidentally poof-ing up new laws of physics?”

“Sounds plausible,” the kid tells her, his tone both entirely accepting of it as the gospel truth and sounding like he thinks she’s totally bonkers.

“No, it really doesn’t,” Charlie sighs. “Doesn’t change the fact it’s true. But enough about me and my world-ending escapades. How about your hole in the universe?”

“That’s the thing… See, I don’t remember.”

“What?”

“I don’t remember how I got here, I just remember that I don’t belong,” the kid confesses, sounding a lot more like he’s being honest than before. “I’m not supposed to be here, but I can’t explain what might be able to bring me back.”

“So, Lebanon, Kansas?”

“Has a safehouse I remember, or I think I do,” he lays out. “And it has a power source I think I need. And…”

“And..?”

Charlie’s hoping for something about the people waiting for him there, something about the ‘profound bond’ doing something to clue him in.

She can’t tell if this is just a spell or something, or if it’s a consequence of having Fallen, regained Angel status, and then seemingly kicked it again in the fastest repeat of the cycle yet.

“I dunno,” he sighs. “I just have to be there.”

Well, it’s not what she was hoping for.

But it’s still closer than she thought she’d get…

So, she’s still not 100% certain this kid is a whammied Castiel.

But she’s definitely like 85% certain, maybe 87%.

And in Winchester World? That there’s some pretty damn good lookin’ odds. So, Charlie will take what she can get and will roll with the rest.

Sam and Dean will be here in a few more hours. All she has to do ‘till then is keep this kid in arm’s reach and keep them both from being buckled up for the looney bin.

Sounds totally doable, right?

In retrospect, Charlie may have to adjust her definition of ‘doable’…

_ _ _

Keep up with everything I’m getting up to HERE!

Have a great week!

#fanfiction #fanfic #batman #batman & robin #BatFam #DCU #dcu fanfic #SPN #spn fanfic #supernatural #destiel #jay x tim #jason todd x tim drake #dean x castiel #multiverse #crossover #charlie bradbury

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howtohero · 4 years

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#244 Mirror Dimensions

We’ve spoken, from time to time, about the vast beauty of the multiverse. We have also, less frequently, spoken about how sometimes the multiverse is just trash. Sometimes literally! There are many dimensions where everything is garbage! There’s the one where everybody is a humanoid made of trash. There’s the one where all living organisms just happen to resemble pieces of garbage from our dimension. There’s the one that college roommates and best friends Bob and Jonathan used as a garbage dump for a bit until they realized, to their horror, that the weird portal in their garbage can was not an intended feature of the garbage can but actually a portal to another dimension full of people who did not appreciate all this extra garbage! But then there are dimensions that are trashy in a more metaphorical way. There are some dimensions (in fact some would argue that there is an entire alternate multiverse, but that just betrays a fundamental lack of understanding of what a multiverse is) that are colloquially known as mirror dimensions or reverse polarity dimensions or topsy-turvey dimensions. These universes basically take a positive polarity dimension, use it as a template, and then mirror it. This means that many things that you take for granted in your home universe will be flipped in the corresponding mirror universe. Sometimes this will mean that directions are flipped or words mean their opposites (or chocolate chip cookies are really healthy while vegetables are not), but we’d advise you to steer clear of those universes entirely. We’ve met you, you’re not ready to enter a universe that is operating on an entirely different set of physics. (If you can find one of those cookie universes though, by all means, go right ahead.) For our purposes, a mirrored universe refers to any dimension where the people you know as good will be evil, and vice versa.

Encountering mirror universes can be very disorienting, especially if you’re not prepared for it at all. It can be confusing to encounter people that look like you and your fellow superhereos, only for them to then turn around and rip a bus in half and throw each half at a different orphanage. So it helps to know the signs.

Telltale signs that the hero in front of you is actually a mirror universe counterpart:

They’ve got a goatee. That’s an easy one. If you ever see a superhero with a goatee, don’t even ask any questions just punch them in the face. “But what about superheroes that just decide to grow a goatee?” you ask! Well, they’re just going to get punched in the face. If you don’t want to get punched in the face, don’t grow a goatee.

Their costume is inverted colors. This is a classic mirror universe tell. If you see a hero who kind of looks like someone you know, except the colors on their costume is inverted they’re either a mirror universe bad guy, or they’re the hero’s nephew and sidekick. Either way you escort them away from a super-battle. If they’re a bad guy, then great, you have removed a bad guy from the crimes they were trying to commit. If they are a child sidekick, that’s also great, because they are a child and they should be in school.

They refer to you by a similar, yet different, codename than the one you’re using. (Like, say, “Capman”) This could mean that they are confusing you for your counterpart in their universe. It could also just be that they are from your universe and they’re just a jerk who can’t be bothered to learn your name. (It’s important to Hatman that you know that caps are technically different. It is important to us too, because if you cause him to launch into another one of his “well you see, it’s all in the shape and position of the crown” rants we will be very upset!) Either way you can probably just punch them. (In the event that the name they called you was cooler than the name you’re actually using I recommend just stealing it.)

They are committing a crime. If they’re committing a crime, they’re probably not the superhero you thought they were. Like, literally. It’s probably a different person. Don’t assume that they’re in the middle of some long all’s-well-that-ends-well-greater-good con. Just stop the crime.

If you’re forced to battle evil mirror universe versions of your superhero friends, don’t panic. There need not be any moral hand-wringing about fighting what is essentially a version of your child’s godparent or the guy who saved the whole world last week. With a mirror universe, the resemblance tends to be only surface deep. They are not the person who you’ve been a friend and colleague of, rather they are a broken and twisted version whose desire for pain and chaos is of equal value to your hero friend’s desire for justice. This already makes them incredibly dangerous, there’s no need to give them more of an advantage by feeling squeamish about punching a familiar face.

Evil mirror versions will often play up the worst attributes of the people they’re mirrors of. So if there’s something you don’t like about your friend, the alternate evil version of them will have that aspect of them enhanced like crazy. So it might not actually be that hard for you to look past the familiar visage and fight them. Besides, this doesn’t even need to be a long fight. Surely you’ve got someone on your team who, in a fit of paranoia, devised plans to kill everyone they know should they turn evil. That’s terrifying, sure, but this is the perfect time to break out those plans. Most of them will probably still work, even accounting for the differences between the two people.

Mirror universe counterparts actually make for an interesting study in nature vs nurture. Your evil mirror universe will have evil hardcoded into their nature. It will be baked into their very essence along with everything else that makes you you. Then, any external influences in their life will either support their desire to be evil, or have an uphill battle to fight in terms of making them good. Which begs the question, if a mirror universe version of yourself must be evil, do they have free will? Was there ever a chance for them to be good? Can they ever become good. Can meeting you, a good version of themselves, allow them to break free of their evil nature? How do we know for sure that their universe is a mirror of yours and not the other way around? Maybe you’re only good because in their universe they decided to be evil. Pondering these questions is sure to give you a headache so I recommend just not! However, they can have practical applications. If we say that a mirror universe counterpart is destined to simply be an inversion of you, perhaps you can alter the course of their lives.

One of the worst parts about encountering an evil mirror version of a superhero is that they will be just as good at committing crimes as the good version of them is at stopping crimes. That’s a pretty scary thought. But at least you can recruit the heroes of mirror dimension to help you fight them, so it should all be ok right? Wrong! Because this means that the heroes of their universe will only be as good at stopping crimes as your villains are at committing crimes. And considering that the last villain you fought was named Mustard Man, The Dijon Avenger and the crime he was committing was, and this is completely true, trying to commission a mad scientist over the internet to create a device that turns water into mustard, I would say that you’re not going to get much help there. (We say “trying” because he was not actually corresponding with a real mad scientist. He was corresponding with a fifteen year old prankster/accidental crime fighter who reported him to the police. He was catfished guys.)

So if we understand that these bad guys’ ability to commit crimes is proportional to your skill at fighting crime, then it stands to reason that if you were a little bit worse at fighting crime, then your alternate universe evil counterpart would be a bit worse at committing crimes. (Ok here us out I swear this is going somewhere good.) If we accept that as fact, then that means that if all the superheroes in your dimension decide to just be terrible at stopping crimes, then their evil multiversial cousins will be terrible at committing crimes. So if you and all of your super friends all agree to just stop fighting crime then all of your evil mirror counterparts will stop committing crimes. You have, right now, the chance to end crime in an alternate universe. Some would argue that you have a moral imperative to do that. Sure, you’d be allowing criminals and supervillains to run rampant in your own universe, but we’ve already established that they’re pretty terrible at doing that, while your alternate counterparts are undoubtably bloodthirsty tyrants who use their incredible power and prowess to dominate the world. Plus, just fighting crime doesn’t mean you’re going to eventually be able to end crime. This allows you to end crime for an entire universe.

Of course, all of this depends on you being sure that your universe is the template and the other universe is the mirror. For all you know, your universe is the mirror, and your actions and motivations are dependent on your counterparts in other universes. There’s really no surefire way to tell for sure which universe in a pair is the mirror. Normally I’d say the one where the villains are in control of the world is probably the mirror universe, but in our model you’d be allowing villains to run rampant and probably eventually take control of your universe while your mirror universe flourishes without villains, so who knows!

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frozenfallenuniverse · 5 years

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The Nature of Planes

I’ve decided to do more writing during november but with the first of the long stories, i’m cheating on. @take-on-meme ‘s fanwalker Avana is a main character in this along with my Mother nature as we rped most of this then made it read more like a story than an rp. Anyway! This is about 3 times as long as my usual stories so grab a coffee, a mango and take your time.

Avana felt it. Where there once existed a barrier over the world, now there was nothing. She had learned of it long ago, when something within her soul had flared to life amidst a skirmish with the Legion of Dusk. She had glimpsed images of a place entirely unlike Ixalan. Unlike anything she had ever seen. But something had dragged her back, denying passage to the unknown. And now it had vanished.

It would not be easy leaving the other merfolk behind, and part of her did not want to. She had guided them for many years, and there was no way to predict how any of them would react. But the desire to know what lie beyond the confines of Ixalan burned within her. She would name her apprentice the new Shaper of their band; she trusted his leadership. Farewells were given, and though many were saddened, she promised to return, and they had faith that the promise would be kept. She turned into the jungle for one last preparation.

As Avana entered a glade slowly, the pool of water at its heart become visible. The waters were calm, save the gentle splashes where the stream that fed them came and went. She had come here many times to meditate and wished to visit it one more time. A few moments were spent regarding the place, and she knew she was ready. She felt the spark inside, focused her thoughts, and took the first true steps between worlds.

Where Avana found herself was far different than what she knew from Ixalan. The foliage was larger than the beasts of the sun kingdom, dew drops that she could swim in fell from the uppermost canopy and not a soul of a human, merfolk or beast could be found in her surroundings. The only things she knew of was that there was a terrible humidity and a strange buzzing coming from what seemed to be a large mound of earth. She approached with caution, for while the structure interested her, Ixalan's jungles had left her no stranger to all manner of insects. Even if this place was far different from the home she had left, the sound's familiarity kept her on alert. She probed the ground with her shaper senses, hoping it would give her some sense of what lay beneath. Clearly, some form of life was present.

Her magic-infused senses washed across the visible jungle like a calming ocean wave. A chitinous serpent returned the surge from several plants away, several waves that felt like legion rippled back thousands of feet above her from the canopy and the mound before her returned millions of waves from small bugs all wrapped inside of a massive creature she had never found anything like before. A massive being curled up as though it was sleeping but it was more humanoid than the war beasts of empire. A dew drop fell onto the mound and the buzzing began to silence itself. She looked upwards for a moment at the canopy, then returned her attention to the mound in mirrored silence. She had expected perhaps a network of tunnels or chambers, but not what she had discovered. The thing was familiar yet utterly alien to her. As she watched, she felt her legs and hands tense up. She was preparing herself, either to call upon the elements around her in defense, or to flee on foot whatever stirred below.

Before she could finally decide on what to do, the ground trembled before her. Two equally massive arms came from the mound and slowly pushed it off the ground. Overgrown Ivy and moss coated the head of the monster as its uncovered eye met with Avana's. A mischievous smile came across the creature's face as it slowly pushed the remainder of its body off the ground. She stumbled backwards several steps, giving a wide space to the being rising before her. Her gaze slowly drifted upward to its head, her eyes wide with surprise. Part of her tugged at her, told her she should leave immediately. Curiosity, however, disregarded the instinct, and instead possessed her to remain. She steadied herself, straightened her posture, and spoke.

"What are you?" The creature tilted its head in response before giving off an earthshaking yawn. It scratched at fungal growths on the side of its head as a palm sized spider crawled out from the area. It looked around for a few moments before pointing at itself and giving the merfolk a soft chuckle.

"I am both much like you and nothing like you. I walk the planes much like you, but our stories are as different as the seas and the forest. What do you think I am, little one?" The voice was similar to an autumn breeze in an expansive forest. Her voice was more suited to an old woman more than a giant one.

Avana was unsure of how to answer the question. She did not have any experience with anything like this. In fact, the only thing they seemed to have in common was each held knowledge of other worlds.

"An elemental, perhaps? One that has lied dormant for many seasons, long enough to take on new life? Or something more, which my course has not given me the knowledge to describe?" The creature shook its head several times. It grabbed at a nearby leaf and drank from the dew it accumulated. Some of the water poured down her chin and became puddles on her body. Several insects and small animals hopped from her and drank away as she began to speak.

"You are new at this, aren't you little one? I am a giant. Nothing more. I have lived for many seasons and have slept for equally as many. To compare, you are a child where as I am an elder. " She pointed at the clothing Avana wore then scratched her head again. "Where do you come from?"

To be called a child was strange to Avana, as her youth had been a few decades behind her, and she had since taken on a mantle of leadership. Still, she did not think it wise to challenge the statement, and instead answered the giant's question.

"I have traveled to this place from a land called Ixalan." The giant tilted her head back and forth, eventually settling to look over Avana. Her visible eye looked almost like it was glazed over or hardly working. She settled one of her large hands in front of the merfolk, palm up.

"Forgive me for asking but did you become a walker due to your plane being destroyed? It’s a saddening problem in the current state of the multiverse." Her voice became lower, more somber, and more suited to something her size. Avana looked down at the hand beside her, slight unease forming from being so close, then back up to the face of its owner. The next question did not help to calm her.

"We have known chaos and change in recent times, but nothing so monumental that the entire world might shatter. Though you speak of it as a thought it were common occurrence? This has happened to many worlds?"

"The multiverse has countless plans, you could equate it to the number of droplets of water in the ocean. I have lived long enough to see many end and have even joined a group to prevent others from falling. Before your recent events, two have been all but destroyed within the same number of months. Another walker wishes to break down another. The list goes on."

"If two may fall so quickly, then what is to prevent my own from following? My people have taken it upon themselves to protect Ixalan from disaster. What path do I take to uphold this?"

"You have two currently: you can devote yourself to protecting your plane for the rest of your life or you can join the group I work for. We help minimize the damage the planes, assuming we learn of their possible destruction beforehand. Keep this in mind however. If you join us, your plane will be added to the planes we keep a closer eye on and each one of the main members has lost something due to the destruction of a plane. Oh. And to talk of your point of your people. How would they, a group of planebounds, be able to stop someone stronger than I, with armies in the millions from a place they can't reach?" No malice came from her words nor did her tone of voice change. It felt like it was the thousandth time she asked someone of it. Her eyes did not even try to meet Avana's, as though she was ashamed of what she was suggesting.

The revelation put a heavy burden on Avana. She did not believe she would alone could protect the entirety of her home; the River Heralds faced enough challenge guarding the Immortal Sun from the other factions of Ixalan. Still, she knew almost nothing about the giant or the others, and there would be no way of predicting what they would do in their surveillance. Avana stood considering for several minutes, the concern clear in her expression. Finally, she reached a decision, though the trembling in her voice indicated it was no easy choice.

"I choose to join you." The giant gave her a soft half smile and outstretched her hand to Avana again, this time in a posture more suited towards shaking hands. She looked down, chuckled again, and outstretched a single finger.

"I will never make you do anything you would regret, nor will I cause your home turmoil. I swear on my honor that I will be your confidant and guide to this multiverse. What is your name, Little one?"

Avana put her hand to the giant's finger and shook it lightly.

"I am called Avana. And what are you named?"

"My name has long since been lost but my fellow walkers have referred to me as Mother Nature but if you would prefer something else, I will most likely respond to it." She set her hand next to Avana and motioned her eyes to her shoulder. Several insects scampered from the shoulder as she moved about, leaving enough room for someone to rest there.

Avana nodded in understanding and moved onto Mother Nature's hand, positioning herself so that she would not fall. She was still unsure of the situation, but she felt more confident in placing her trust in the giant.

"What would you like to learn of first? I know much but many of the others of my group know more. They are a bit more... feral than I though." Mother began meandering slowly through the underbrush of gargantuan foliage, occasionally offering her new friend some fresh dew or what remained of some poor creature she crushed underfoot. Avana took the offers of dew but politely declined the remains as they traveled.

"I am curious about this land I have found myself in. Life appears all around us, but none takes a form similar to you or I. And there is a great presence of life that I sensed far above us. What exactly hides itself beyond the great cover of leaves?"

"The sun. And the humans who enjoy it. They fear the creatures that live down here and only come down to hunt for food. This plane functions like a dome around the sun. It is an anomaly that I have been learning about for several years now." She attempted to count the time on her fingers but gave up after reaching the low twenties.

"How odd this world appears. And what dwells underneath, amongst us?"

"Insects as large as you, dinosaurs occasionally and carnivorous plants but what I'm looking for is the spot I came in here from."

"Do you have a recollection of the appearance of that place? I may be able to seek it out." Avana’s magic already began to coalesce around her body as she spoke.

"A year to me is the equivalent of a day to you and the growth of this plane is faster than I am tall. I apologize for not using your skills, but I would love to learn more about them." Nature continued her long walk through the foliage, slowly going from a general direction to a time worn animal path.

"When I was a youth, the Shaper of our band chose me as an apprentice and taught me the magic of our people. She taught how to ask the land and sky to lend their strength, and how to feel the greater world around us, beyond the senses. That is how I discovered you in your earthen slumber." The giant chuckled under her breath as her pace slowed, finally reaching a clearing void of any form of life, let alone anything she spoke of before.

"Although I should have explained this before, be careful of who you tell about being a walker and of your magic. I am an outlier amongst my group. I have mastered two forms of magic that assist my survival. Based on your magic, I ask of you to guess one of them." She helped her merfolk guest down to the forest ground before she began pacing around the clearing, chanting some form of incantation. Small bubbles of mana rippled from the ground as she walked by.

Avana concentrated and focused her mind on the ground and the bubbles emerging from beneath it. Although the incantation and the mana coming from it was unfocused, at best, she recognized two things from it. The first was that this is a leyline that is slowly being activated by someone is who is clearly an amateur with this sort of task. The second was that it felt familiar. The mana was, albeit on a larger scale, very similar to the time she planeswalked here.

"I imagine it relates to the host of creatures within you?"

"Correct. I have found a way to keep some creatures alive between multiverse travel. All it cost was dreams and some modifications to my body. I can create swarms of insects or speak to them. My other magic relates to my size." She gestures to the entirety of herself then shrinks down to about half her normal size with a small burst of magic. "Also, can make myself bigger but keeping it up requires more energy."

"I had known of some who could perform similar feats but never had I witnessed such a thing in person."

"Before I take you to somewhere more..." She looked around a bit and motioned Avana to enter the circle, sparks of mana bouncing from edge to edge. "Hospitable. Do you have any questions?"

"Will I meet the others you spoke of?" Avana asked, which caused Nature sighed and looked around.

"In due time. We have one for each color of magic. I represent green and our leader is both the strongest and weakest of us. If you like, I can take you to them right away, but I would suggest we sightsee before that point."

"I trust you to guide me. I am ready." The circle softly crackled as she carefully stepped into it, looking out towards the rest of the overgrown forest she came from.

“Kaladesh.” Mother Nature whispered into one center of the circle. The surroundings of the circle shifted around like that of a kaleidoscope. The leaves of the forest rotten away and reformed in seconds, Light pierced through the skyline, first in strands then in spirals. Mana coalesced in swirls around the circle while visions of massive cities and vehicles with nothing close to what Avana had experienced came across her vision. The surroundings finally stabilized to an equally overgrown forest, yet the foliage was much closer to a size known to Avana.

“Welcome to your third plane, Kaladesh. I know little has changed but here our magic is as rare as a mouse growing to my normal size.”

Avana looked around at her new surroundings, taking everything in. Her eyes traced the swirls carven into the atmosphere, and she took note of the plants which seemed to mirror them. The flora may not have been quite the same in magnitude, but she could tell that life here had a special kind of power. She turned to again look at her new guide.

"Little, and yet so much for one who is like a newborn." she replied, laughing gently at her own expense. Nature joined in the laugher as she meandered around several trees, grasping at branches, and scaring small mammals that lived in those trees.

“That is why I brought you here. Taking you somewhere both close and unfamiliar. A place where you can explore to an extent while still dipping your toes.” She grasped at a yearling’s branch and snapped it off. She motioned Avana to come closer as she pulled off a palm sized red yellow fruit, offering it to her friend.

“The most important part of being a walker of planes is indulging in what each offer. Some, like yours, must offer things unique to it. Be it the beasts that walk those lands or these ‘mangos’.”

Avana happily took the fruit and took a small bite of it, sampling its taste. The fruits juiced coated her taste buds. It was quite sweet in a way that was unique compared to the fruits she knew from Ixalan.

"It tastes quite good, and much different from what I'm used to. Thank you for showing me this place."

Mother Nature nodded to her companion as she tore a second mango in half. One piece she placed on her shoulder and the other she began to eat. Several wasps and large beetles came out from behind her hair, broke of pieces of the offered fruit and took their prizes back to the hive.

“You will meet many walkers, young one. Some will show you nightmares, other will show you the beauty they found in the multiverse. Not all are as kind as I. You should savor moments like these. My group focuses on destruction so much that I worry that it is all they believe will happen. Don’t become like them.” Her tone shifted downward. Her words felt both rehearsed and heartfelt, nearly ingrained into her lips. Once the words left them, she acted as though she said nothing and smiled at her companion while walking towards a new tree.

Avana plucked a mango of her own and stood for a moment while rubbing it in circles. It took a long moment before she began to speak up again.

"I will admit it may be difficult. My people spent the last few centuries diverting outsiders from our home to guard its secrets. We were charged to keep them hidden and avoid disaster by misuse. And that duty I have been taught will certainly carry over to the multitude of other worlds I may encounter. However, this power you and I possess has also granted me a freedom to experience the greater wonders of those worlds. And that is certainly something I will never forsake." The giant paused from her words, slowly turned around, and walked back towards the merfolk. She brought a hand towards her head before freezing up and pulling her hand back with an abnormal wince of pain.

"That is wonderful, Avana. Your devotion is extremely impressive for one who has only begun her journey. Before we meet the rest of my group and this plane, do you have any questions for me?"

"No, I'm sure any curiosities will be answered soon enough." Avana shook her head as she spoke. Her giant companion began walking towards one end of the forest. Avana jogged after her as thoughts of the possibilities on what this plane or even the multiverse could hold. What creatures walked these realms with nothing close to the ones she fought on Ixalan. Were all other walkers as strange as the one she just met? An essay’s worth of questions flooded the back of her mind, but one stayed right at the fore front. Is there a way to make those mangos even more delicious?

#mtg #avana #mother nature #fanwalker #my writing #take on meme #kavori #a good friendo

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jo-the-schmo · 6 years

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Chaos Breeds Life, Order Bleeds Blue

A/N: :Long title, I know. But trust me, I couldn’t think of a better one. I might change it later. This one’s a bit different and I’m posting it at 3:30 in the morning like a responsible adult.

Wordcount: 4034

Warnings: Language, time science? Blood

Tags: @sunsetleslie @hoshihime98 @phantastic-fandoms @arya-durin-51 @thelazyfangirl @happypineappleapple @sweaterkitty-fluff Message me or send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list

“This sure doesn’t look like homework.”

You almost jumped out of your seat when you heard the voice speak to you. It had been silent for so long that hearing a voice surprised you. Wait…how long have I been here? As that thought struck you, you suddenly realized your surroundings and the numbness in your legs. You had been sitting on the floor outside the school library ever since it closed. The hallways were dim, most people already up and gone. Books were strewn around you, some still open and small notecards tucked into the pages with questions. And in front of you, stood a man with a familiar, thick, black rimmed glasses sitting on his nose.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! The building must be closing, I’ll get out in just a sec…” You started to frantically shove your newest lends. But you saw the man kneel down, waving his hands for you to stop.

“No need, the building doesn’t close until all the teachers and staff are gone. And I’m still here.” His eyes flicked down to what you were reading. “Horology? Planning on making clocks?” Professor Laurent questioned with a mischievous glance back at you. “Hope you aren’t changing majors on me!” You gave him a tired chuckle.

“Nah, this stuff is giving me headache. I could talk about history all day and not get tired of it. But the library barely had what I was looking for, the clock stuff isn’t really helping.”

“Why the sudden interest?” That question immediately eased the tension in your head.

“I’ve just…been feeling kinda stuck recently.” You sighed.

“In time?” His head cocked to the side. You nodded. His mouth drew into a tight line, as if he were considering something. He seemed to come to a conclusion.

“I’m sorry if this is…an odd invitation. But I think I have some stuff you might want to look at, more physics and philosophy related.” You’ve never heard his voice be so serious. It was somber and comforting. Almost as if he was saying, ‘I know what you’re going through.’ “They might do you more help than what our library, that’s for sure.”

“Really? That would be great!” You exclaimed. He slid his metal to-go cups into his worn satchel, freeing his hands. He reached out, gently closing most of your books and taking them himself.

“I’ll help you with these.” After collecting all your things, the two of you set down the hallway toward his classroom. Professor Laurent was probably the kindest person you’d ever met. He wasn’t like most teachers you had known, he genuinely cared. He felt more like a mentor than a teacher, which although seem as though they’re supposed to be synonyms are actually quite different. There wasn’t a single person to your knowledge that has met him and not felt how wonderful he was. Which, is probably why seeing the way he walked with such a soft step, or his silence being deafening got to you so much.

The building was sectioned off less by building and more by long halls. And the quiet echoed beneath your feet. It completely reflected how you would personify the professor. Kenopsia. In the few minutes of traveling, he seemed like an entirely different person. The halls are usually so bustling and loud, full of energy for one reason or another. But perhaps, that’s only because that’s the only time you see it like that. Or more appropriately, him like that. Empty, solitude, echoing. Eventually you made it to the door to the room you visited most during school. You heard a click from the lock being turned and he pushed open the door. You almost instinctively went over to your desk that you always tried to sit at, you could even imagine the bodies of all your peers in their respective places. But the professor kept moving forward, over to his office.

It only took a few moments for the two of you to be in the smaller, off-set room. You had never actually been in there before, so you were intrigued by everything around you. The walls were bland but there were a few bookshelves placed in assumingly random places. His desk was made of a light wood, clean, had a few picture frames in the corners. He set his bag down by the desk and laid the books he carried down on it’s surface. You followed in-suit. He switched between all of the shelves, picking out a couple of different books. As he came back over, he gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs on the opposite end of his own. The swivel chair creaked under his weight as he pushed the books towards you.

“Do you have a favorite theory?” He asked. Honestly, he had been silent for so long that you hadn’t considered him asking you anything.

“I don’t suppose I do… I haven’t been through this enough to really have an opinion.” But that now begged the question. “Do you have a favorite?” It took him a second to answer.

“I don’t think it’s my favorite, but the idea that past, present, and future co-exist is comforting.” He paused. “No matter how much of a low point your life has hit, the happiest version of yourself is happening at the same time. But I suppose this all subject to human perception. Time is a human-born concept, after all.” You looked over at all the old books in front of you, they looked to be pretty worn down. And you didn’t recognize any of them.

“This is an interesting collection you have.” You stated as you plucked every book from the pile to read the cover. “I would’ve never guessed you were into this kind of thing. You never mention it at least.”

“Well, no one is really an open book. You never knew because there was no reason to tell you until now. Plus, it shouldn’t be so surprising, my entire profession is based around time and where it’s led us.” A little bit of his usual demeanor returned to him. “You could also argue that I don’t know everything about you, and that’s because I don’t. There’s plenty that you don’t share with people.” Boy, if he only knew.

“I guess you have a point.” You spent a moment reading through the text of the smallest book. “It all just seems so crazy…” You muttered.

“What does?”

”The fact that there are all these different theories, there’s no solid answer. Fate vs. Freewill, wormholes, string theory, co-existence, butterfly effect… It’s all just ideas!”

“Time isn’t like genetics or gravity where we could see or test it. We were the ones to decide how many seconds are in a minute, minutes in an hour, hours in a day. It’s a complex study because it means different things to different people.” He looked through you, almost like he was trying to see into your thoughts. “Perhaps I’m wrong in assuming this but, did something happen in particular that made you so interested? Is there something making you feel stuck?” You could tell he had been dying to ask you this question, not just in the minutes passing this evening, but ever since you woke up. He noticed you were different, everyone did. But he was the only one to ask. Everyone else was too scared to, thinking that it was just a side-effect of your coma.

“You would just think I’m crazy if I told you…” You sighed. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not too sure about that, I’ve seen some crazy in my time. Try me.” He leaned into the desk, his elbows resting against it. You tried to think of a way you could phrase this.

“Do…Do you really think a single person can change history?” He raised an eyebrow, shifting his glasses down a tinge.

“Now you already know my answer to that, of course I do. I’m almost certain I say that to your class every other day.”

“I was…kinda afraid you’d say that…” You could tell he was confused by your statement. “I feel like I’m changing too much. And all I’m doing is destroying it, breaking it.” He was silent for a moment, suddenly moving his chair to the adjacent side by you. He rested his hands on his knees and looked at you with comfort.

“Order brings habit, but with chaos comes life.” He looked over at the pile of books, quickly searched through them for one in particular. It was a medium sized book with a navy blue cover. Explaining Chaos. “That is the principle to Chaos Theory. With chaos comes innovation and progress, it isn’t always destruction.”

“I always though chaos theory was that unbelievable things will happen simply because they can.” You took the book in your hands, running your fingers against the cover.

“You’re not wrong, but that’s not the whole story. Chaos Theory is where we get the popular idea of Butterfly Effect. A simple action can have tremendous consequences. But those actions don’t always result in breakage.” Suddenly you had an idea.

“What if…Hypothetically speaking, what if time were in a set straight line? Events happening in a fate like manner. What would happen if a disturbance suddenly happened to this set timeline?” You asked.

“Like a time anomaly?” You seemed to peak his intrigue.

“Yes, something unexpected. What would do you think would happen?” You found yourself on the edge of your seat.

“Well, I’m not expert…But I would think that’s probable cause for change. Both direct and indirect. Say that I put a pen on Mrs.Gepson’s desk. You could say that now she would have a new pen, a direct change. But you could also say that someone could then steal that pen from her and then throw it at someone else, an indirect change that continuously effects the whereabouts of that pen. But if it were to a time anomaly, it would most likely result in a split from the previously set reality. This might then cause further anomalies, making more and more splits, until we get to something closer to a web. Or something along the lines of a multiverse.” Holy…shit… “But of course, that begs the question, what is this anomaly? If this were a fate based line of time, why would this anomaly occur? Would that anomaly then also be conjured by fate? Unless it was an outside force with no correlation to that timeline. And that also depends on when exactly this anomaly occurred.”

“Oh, that’s uh…I think got the chills.” You gave a nervous chuckle. He looked at you quizzically, or like he was trying to figure something out. There was never a moment of clarity in that gaze but he seemed to have put it aside for something else.

“Why don’t you take these for a little bit, as loaners.” He gestured to the book pile. “Read over them this week and then we can discuss if you found your answer at the end. But it’s late, I can’t have my best student losing too much sleep.” He smiled warmly. You were glad that he was still himself, you doubted for a moment.

“Thank you so much! That would really help me out!” He helped you put the books away so that you could carry them home. Together, you both walked down the shallow halls, they seemed less daunting than they were before. Professor Laurent was always a well dressed guy, very business casual. Charcoal slacks, light blue button down dress shirt that’s never buttoned all the way, nice dress shoes, black rimmed glasses. He looked like a professor. You always considered him to be young even though he’s in his late 30s. His presence is very comforting, like he knows what he’s doing, all the time. But as soon as you were out of the building, you became nervous. The familiar streets started to bother you. Ever since you woke up, you tried to avoid the streets at night. The tension around you was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“Would you like me to walk you home? I’m assuming you live near campus.” Professor Laurent suggested. You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s very responsible to let a young girl walk home by herself this late at night. I know you can handle yourself but it would best to avoid anything unsavory if possible.” You mentally sighed in relief.

“Thanks. And you’re right, I’m only a couple blocks away.” You gestured toward the direction of your apartment.

“Good! I’m the pretty darn close too.” The two of you started to walk together. He pulled out his cellphone. “Just give me a second to call my daughter…” He clicked on something and then pressed the phone to his ear, it only took a moment for him to speak again. “Hey Ravenna, sweetie…Yes, I am on my way home. I should be back in about 15 minutes…I was helping someone out, don’t worry. If you don’t mind waiting a few extra minutes, I’ll pick us up some dinner?…Alright, I’ll see you soon, sweetie. I love you…” After a few seconds, he hung up the phone.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter, you never talk about her!” You exclaimed. That actually explained a lot.

“Yeah, she told me to stop doing that. She doesn’t like it when strangers just know who she is, especially if she didn’t naturally come up in conversation. I told her I’d stop doing it.”

“Actually, you calling her reminded me that I should probably text my boyfriend. He’s hanging out with his sister at our apartment so I should tell them I’m on my way back.” You pulled out your phone. Hey Phoenix, tell Anna that I’m on my way. Don’t eat all my food. Love yoooooou! You add a heart emoji.

“Your boyfriend’s name is Phoenix?” DAMNIT! I NEED TO STOP DOING THAT!

“Yeah, trust me, that name suits him.”

“What’s his last name?” He seemed curious.

“Hansen, his sister is also my roommate, her name is Anna.” He looked at you with a cheesy grin.

“Well, it sure is a small world!” What? “I know their dad!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, we’re great friends. I’ve known Phoenix since he was born! He used to call me Uncle Joshie.”

“Aw, that’s adorable and I’m definitely going to use that later to embarrass him.” He chuckled at your statement.

“That is crazy though. I mean, what are the odds? Maybe Ill see you at the family reunion?”

“You go to their reunions?”

“Well, Allen and I host one together every year. It’s more of a friend reunion where we bring all of our all of our families. I suppose it’s better that we learned this now rather than later?”

“Yeah…that would’ve been hilariously painful.”

“At least you’d have a funny story to tell later, right?”

“Crazy history makes for crazy stories…” You remembered something he said earlier, something about how him not telling things to people because they don’t ask. You had always been curious about something… “What made you want to be a history teacher? You seem to be really interested in time so why history?” He seemed surprised that you asked.

“Well, I didn’t get an intertest in time until later in life but…Oh, you would probably just think I’m crazy if I told you.” He mimicked you from earlier, to which you followed in tow.

“I’ve seen some crazy in my time, try me.” You smirked. It took him a second to answer, he almost seemed nostalgic.

“Let’s see…When I was 17, I wasn’t doing too hot. My grades were low, I didn’t care about anything, it was one of the lower points in my life. I didn’t even think I would graduate.” That surprised you, he was always so happy and cheerful that you would never guess. Maybe that explained why he was acting like that earlier. “But then, one night, I had a dream. I was standing out in the middle of a field, there were white tents everywhere I looked, but no people. Except for one. This young woman, wearing a black dress. It wasn’t a modern dress though, it was historical. I couldn’t see what she looked like, her face was fuzzy like TV static. Her dress would change too, but I could just tell it was the same woman. It slowly became white and red, then grey and white with pink detailing, it was still her. I couldn’t hear her voice but…I could feel her words, if that makes any sense? It was like she was speaking through my skin, or singing is probably more appropriate. I kept having this dream, again, and again, and again.” He cleared his throat. “So, the first logical thing I decided to do was research it. The only thing I had to go on were the words she was singing.”

“What was she singing?” You felt something in the back of your head.

“It’s a long song, but the first verse always jumped out at me… O fare you well, I must be gone// And leave you for a while:// But wherever I go, I will return,// If I go ten thousand mile, my dear,// If I go ten thousand mile.” He recited rather than sang.

“That’s…really pretty…but also sad?”

“It turns out that it was a song first dated in 1710, The True Lover’s Farewell. That gaze me a good time frame since it was next seen around 1803. Which means, I was dealing with something from early America or England. Fortunately for me, England was ruled out since I later noticed the color blue appearing around the dream. Blue coats to be exact. Sometime in the American Revolution. This was also reassured because of her clothes, I was able to date it around the late 1770s.”

“That’s why you chose history? A girl in your dreams.” The feeling was spreading to your temple.

“Sort of, doing all this research gave me something to do. It gave me a purpose for a little while, it surprisingly helped me. To this day, in a way, it’s still my purpose. I still have many questions about those dream. I still get them from time to time as well. I started to pay attention to things around me more, including school. It took a lot of struggle but eventually it lead me to what I’m doing now.” He seemed to think of it fondly, appreciative of it. Your apartment was just down the street now. You could even faintly see Phoenix sitting on second step. You should’ve run right up to him, but you didn’t.

Something didn’t feel right. You felt like…

You were being watched.

That’s when you heard footsteps pounding behind you. You couldn’t even think about it before you felt Professor Laurent turn around and pull behind him. A familiar sound, a gun being cocked. You swallowed your fear. There’s no way. It can’t happen again. It isn’t… You turned around and peered behind the professor’s arm.

It was him.

It was the same man from that night. The same frozen eyes that you remember. They had never caught him, in fact, the police couldn’t even find any suspects. They assumed he left the state. You had a lot of time to think about what happened after you woke up. None of it added up, and the police agreed. It didn’t seem like a typical mugging. Most were done quickly, they’d speak to you with few words, hide their face, get your money, no matter the amount, and then go. It also seemed strange that they’d target someone who wasn’t alone, leaving them outnumbered. And the way that he let his anger get the best of him and how he did almost nothing to go after Anna made it all seem like something else was happening. Some other sort of agenda. But nothing came out of it.

He didn’t bother to hide his face last time and now wasn’t an exception. His skin was pale and gaunt, a strong jaw, you could see light brown hair under his hood. Why him? Why is he here again? His lips were in a tight line, he seemed frustrated, staring down your professor.

“Whatever happens, stay behind me, alright?” He whispered to you. You were visibly shaking. The man took notice, that’s when Professor Laurent finally addressed him. “Take a step back, young man. You don’t want to do this.” He said calmly. Blue eyes tightened his grip on the gun.

“How about you take a step back? Away from the girl.” This wasn’t a mugging anymore.

“I can’t do that.” Blue Eyes tilted his sideways at the professor’s statement. “Do you want money? Because I can give you money, no need to get in over our heads.”

“No! I want you to take a step back away from that girl behind you! I’m not letting that bitch ruin things again!” The man yelled, he didn’t care if anyone heard him. What is he talking about?! Professor Laurent turned his head and looked down at you. Then he looked down the street. You followed his gaze, Phoenix was looking around, you were just out of his line of sight because of the darkness surrounding you. You were being told to run. You looked back up at your teacher and shook your head. But he acted before you had the chance.

“Go!” He yelled, rushing forward and grabbing the man’s arm, forcing his gun to point toward the ground. You shakily took a step back. You couldn’t run, you knew you couldn’t. You desperately looked around for some sort of weapon that might help. The two men were struggling for power, you couldn’t see the gun clearly anymore. Meaning, it was in between them. Everything was happening at once, you didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe.

Then there was a shot.

Both men stood still for a moment. The gun fell to the ground as they both reeled back. But then, Professor Laurent fell to the ground, blood pumping out of his chest. You screamed. Then man was clutching his shirt in the same place. His breathing was forced and choking. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you thought you could see something coming out of his left eyes. Not blood, but not tears either. He looked over at you with a sneer, a look that said more than any words could. And with that, he staggered to a run down an alley you had passed not to long ago.

You kneeled down beside your teacher. Panic welling up inside of your stomach. He was still breathing. As Blue Eyes’ steps faded in the distance, another pair rushed behind you. Phoenix heard the shot. Heard your scream. He was next to you in a matter of seconds. He seemed shocked by what was in front of him but you were quick to tell him what to do.

“Phoenix, call an ambulance and give me your belt!” He seemed shaken but he followed your instructions. Taking his belt, you wrapped it around Professor Laurent’s chest, your hand firmly pressed down on the bullet wound as you fastened it. Stop the bleeding, stop the bleeding, pressure will stop the bleeding, tighten the belt, press your hand down harder, stop the bleeding. You couldn’t even hear Phoenix while he was on the phone. “You’re gonna be fine, everything’s alright…” You tried to reassure him and yourself. His breathing was heavy but it was there, that’s all that mattered. You something slowly roll down his temple from his eye.

Blue paint.

You wiped it away. All that mattered was that he was still breathing. He began to cough so you lifted his head up. You tried to avoid thinking about anything else, you knew you’d break down if you did. You began to mutter ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. You couldn’t help it. And as the red lights began to flash and blink closer, you looked down at the ground.

He left the gun behind.

#will be added to the masterlist soon #lore story

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legendofthematriarch · 4 years

Text

On Necromancy (Ch. 2)

Of all the subjects The Matriarch would go on to learn various forms of magic. She figured it would be useful for her coming adventures into the multiverse, and she had no qualms about the darker and the taboo. She did not have any basis of reference regarding the ethics and legality of certain types of magic, a trait she would ultimately share with other deities even though she did not know it. Of significant note was the subject of Necromancy and Blood magic.

As a young deity born of the aetherius, she spent much of her time studying Yggdrasil and norse lore. The aether, an old and ancient concept seemed to be an energy that flowed through the entire multiverse. It’s source is only hinted at in some ancient grimoires, some thinking that the gods themselves breathed life into the universe and that very breath became the aether. In reality, this overplays the various god’s roles in the multiverse’s creation. They are born, made, spawned and designed like anything else but the actual origin of all existence still eludes the gods themselves. They are functionally immortal but they still live and die like so many others. That however, is a subject for another time.

It was the concept of immortality that drew her to the subject of Necromancy. The passage of time meant very little to her personally, but as she read more on mortal lore she noticed a trend. There was an ever present anxiety upon the concept of death, to the point of personifying it. Death became a person, something tangible that they could ultimately defeat. Through technology, medicine, and even magic they extended their lifespans in order to defeat this abstract concept that their mortal souls will eventually join the aether.

While she never intended to mass resurrect swaths of populations, she still pinpointed a problem that she could possibly assist in. So she got to work. The aether is a flowing force that keeps various multiverses together. Through her studies she found that, while lacking a sentient consciousness that mortals could understand, it still had its own intelligence. It could be effectively petitioned, just as all magic users do whenever they cast the most simplest of spells. Effectively asking the universe permission to make fire into their hands, and then proceed to cook their morning eggs because that damn stove pilot light went out again. The aether never truly says “No, this cannot be done” except in the rarest of cases (one example is that of Chaos - another lesson for another day). However, ‘petitioning the aether’ is effectively the closest comparison.

The same works for dark, deep, or ‘evil’ magic. The aether is intelligent in its own, unknowable way but it holds no judgement on how gods or mortals use it. This is a fact that The Matriarch surely could take advantage of. Necromancy was an interesting topic to her, originally thought to be pissing in the face of the natural order of things (and many mortals think that very thing), but some types of death magic have many practical uses. She thought of a saying whenever she was argued with; “People forget that while death magic can take life, it can also give it back.” It was her justification for essentially popping into some universes and ultimately engaging in graverobbing. Her estate held a lab, a sort of morgue and holding facility for corpses where she would experiment within. She had a nexus that allowed her to pop into various mortal realms (and otherwise), but she kept her presence secretive as to not alert locals. She still had so much to learn after all, and did not want to interact whilst unprepared.

Magic functions ever so slightly differently in every timeline she entered, Matriarch noticed. Asking the aether for permission still only goes so far. Some spells were less effective at times, so this was a fact she had to take real note of and could be a threat in the future (which is why she also endeavored to self train in some martial arts). Regardless, there are some fundamentals to Necromancy she had learned through some trial and error, as well as utilizing dozens of grimoires to effectively triangulate the truth. Firstly, there was a window of effectiveness. Two weeks after death is the most ideal window of time to resurrect a corpse. She had done so and monitored certain mortal’s lives after giving them the gift of a second life. After some upheaval in their home and work lives, they typically carried on as normal. Most even continued to live well into their eighties or nineties, though their health seemed to have declined more rapidly after a certain point.

That’s when she discovered the second point; the aether demands a trade. Not so much that all magic requires such a thing, but necromancy effectively drains a certain life force from the subject and engineers a different kind within. It is a death magic after all, so resurrected subjects are typically instructed that some time has been shaved off their lifespan. Most never mind, as they are typically eager to return to their families. Thirdly, something the Matriarch dubs as the ‘yellow zone’, two to five weeks is when certain side effects become more apparent. After the initial resurrection, subjects are far more sluggish and slower to attune to the life they’ve been given again. Their lifespans are also much shorter, their health dropping a decade or two before their timeline’s life expectancy. The idea here is that part of their essence has already passed into the aether, and petitioning it to return what has been taken becomes too far a demand. Even if their spirit had lingered, their very soul continually passes through a course of time (this very thing causes most ghosts to turn mad over the course of decades or for some of the strong willed, possibly centuries).

Yellow-zone subjects can still live mostly normal lives, but at a depleted capacity. They’re prone to more health problems and they also hit earlier in their lives. Some medicine and magic can alay this, but they will eventually pass sooner than they probably wished for.

There are two other tiers. There’s an orange zone, which is roughly one to two months. It is everything that the yellow zone offers but worse. The Matriarch reserves month-long resurrection for information gathering rather than worrying about the subjects quality of life - Which will soon rapidly decline. Breaking one of her own rules, she had met with some mortals and utilized an Orange resurrection to a higher classed noble family whose grandfather passed without making it clear which family members acquired which assets. She kept her personal interactions brief, but she was ultimately paid a sum of gold once the matter was properly settled. Gold is typically useful no matter the timeline, so she made a storage facility to keep various treasures. Finally, they can go into the red. After two or three months, the corpse is just a corpse. Their essence has been absorbed into the aetherius, and petitioning it to bring back life to the corpse yields unfavorable results. In common parlance, the subject effectively becomes a zombie. The more polite term in mage circles would be “ghoul”, their actual formal term. Some intelligence can be forced into them, but they essentially become subservient creatures to their summoner. What was once held within their minds, is long gone at that point.

There are exceptions, like an aforementioned strong-willed ghost hanging around for a long period of time. Since their soul is still present, necromancy can be used to mend the corpse and force their soul back into their original home. This still leads to potential health risks, especially that of mental. Speaking of exceptions, all of this varies slightly in every universe. What has been documented above is just the typical ‘average’, and the Matriarch makes it a point to make sure the subjects know about the potential variance. Even if a subject was resurrected within a day of their death, there’s always the risk of health issues in their future.

(Chapter ‘On Necromancy’ may be edited/added to in the future as I think of more specifics, of if I’m asked things that could be addressed within).

#Creative Writing #LGBT #Fantasy #SciFi

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machimachilegends · 6 years

Text

MIRAI MAGICA

Mirai the Black, an S Class Witch

Skills & Techniques

Anger Point

Thanks to Mirai’s high self-awareness and understanding, she’s able to turn her wellspring of anger and hate into power to pull from deeper reserves of potential not yet tapped or founded, similarly to an athlete to perform better. Thanks to this Mirai doesn’t have to worry about making many mistakes so long as her mind is intact.

Flight

Mirai can fly using the highest grade of Levitation on herself or simply putting her natural energy under her feet, giving herself multiple chances to change direction or makeup for speed she doesn’t have.

Hyper Movement

The ability to vanish from sight by moving extremely fast in a short burst. This can be used to get the drop on fighters just as fast when times correctly.

6th Sense

The ability to detect the unknown not common to the naked eye, deliberately forcing the body to move on its own when the body is completely unguarded. It’s a wake up call for danger is approaching, a fail safe basically.

Intuition & Awareness

Witch’s are very self-aware of their limits and intuitive about the intents of others. However, due to how highly they pride themselves on this ability, they can make bad reads where none should be possible. Only the best of the best take everything at face value or use analysis to aide themselves.

Ki Sense

The ability to sense the life force of another. If improved even the gods and beings with different types of energy can be felt after a while.

Free Lance Spell Casting

The ability to cast magic with incantation or circle. Witches popularized this style when working with sorcerers and warlocks, such as snapping a finger and pointing. When used with magical items many doors are opened.

Witch’s Charm

A witch is naturally fit to look attractive and very enticing to the eyes, whether cute, beautiful, or sexy. Similarly to demons their luck is slightly improved too. It’s a fail safe to lessen the chances they meet an untimely end.

Witch’s Kiss

If a witch’s lips meet anyone’s they don’t consent or wish harm to, their target is set to die in a week of natural causes be it voluntary or not. Though if the other partner can use magic their chances of death practically hit zero. This is simply a genetic fail safe of their body to ward off unwelcome mates. This has no battle applications.

Soul Tie

If to marry a witch their souls are tied to which if one dies their partner dies. This was commonly used by a Mirai who no longer exists in personality anymore. In death their souls are untied.

Reboot

Mirai can potentially cause a world wide reset of some kind so long as a certain condition is met, be it true love’s kiss or an intense desire to make rights again, if not the holy sword Excalibur itself. Mirai’s memories are wiped right after but slowly resurface from nothingness the more human she becomes. Due to her experience and training as of current a reboot from an inexperienced Mirai is almost null unless she desires it without interference.

Magic Sense & Identification

All magic users can sense and gauge the amount of magic a person gives off, but it takes more skill to identify other differences on the spot.

Magic Transfer

By sending her first and second reserves of magic to an ally she can temporarily let them use her power as if it was their own. Though for an absolute transfer both parties must consent. Though there was a case where a young man took more power than was consented.

Fire Ball

One of the simplest spells anyone can learn. Once it reaches Grade 3 it is readily used for adaptation.

Scar-light Driver

Fire Ball projected from a curved blade. An intense heat is felt first, then a massive wave of dragon magic or fire spreads in the direction of her slash as a small jerk of energy clips her opponent. From a distance the explosion takes the look of a giant Fire Ball, then leaves the battlefield a molten crust of its former self almost without air.

Scar-light Scorcher

The Scar-light Driver but from nothing but the hilt or a broken sword. Without a curve or refined blade the fire spreads wildly for a similar effect, but causes recoil damage as more power is used to make the blast reach.

Draco Shine

A speedy Fire Ball dosed in black magic. It can tear down the defenses of whatever it hits in a violet blaze of light.

Draco Flare

An improved version of Draco Shine. It’s just bigger and faster like a solar flare almost. There’s nothing more to it.

Dragonic Revolver

An intense wave of magic and ki shot at her foes with a focus on black magic and dragon magic. It’s even stronger than your standard Laceration by Mirai.

Super Dragonic Revolver

A hyper intense wave of magic and ki shot at her foes, spanning entire battlefields in width and length. Thanks to the Claire Manuscript Mirai can strengthen this blast with her hatred.

Double Dragonic Revolver

Two Dragonic Revolvers compact into one. This blast is similar to her Super Dragonic Revolver but it’s far more concentrated and linear in path. It can vaporize barriers enemies that dare to attack from another dimension without fault so long as she is in a comparable realm of power to her foe(s).

Double Dragonic Revolver X10

What Super Dragonic Revolver is to Dragonic Revolver, X10 is double that to Double Dragonic Revolver. Mirai and even give immortals a scare with a blast like this. It’s almost mandatory to dodge since it attacks the soul too with a spiritual pressure that weighs on everything surrounding the blast radius.

Final Flare Revolution

An explosive wave of dragon magic that spans a small country in size, that is then focused into a concentrated point in her hand and fired at her foe with all her might, which can dispel some of the strongest curses known to man without a thought. This spells always leaves her hair white afterwards due to the lack of magic she has afterwards.

World Ending Slash

A blade of pure chaos. This technique was learned from the Claire Manuscript. It is said by Mirai to have lesser power to the World Ending Sphere, but can splice through dimensions, the space and barriers between dimensions, and has enough destructive force to life-wipe a planet if she isn’t precise with her movements.

5th World Ending Slash

The World Ending Slash with the fire and dragon attributes of magic applied. This improved spell can even damage foes that are supposedly immune to magical attacks. Mirai risks the entire multiverse setting ablaze if she isn’t careful what she hits.

World Ending Sphere

A sphere of pure chaos. This technique was learned from the Claire Manuscript. It is said by Mirai to have the power to destroy the universe in a matter of seconds, if not more, if she isn’t careful. This spell steals the life of its user and neighboring foes at a rapid rate, thus it must be launched at enemies than left sitting around.

Hiei

A black manifestation of Mirai’s imagination and magic given its own will. Mirai calls on Hiei to clear waves of enemies while utilizing its massive body for rides or its shapelessness to attack from various angles at a type of warmup. Mirai can purposefully detonate Hiei into miniature Hiei to its dismay to inflict massive damage on enemies and dose them in her magic. These little guys can’t do much damage until they reform into one singularity by half their original total.

Hiei re;birth

Through strengthening its resolve Hiei will latch onto Mirai’s arm to be a direct weapon for Mirai to freely shape herself. Hiei can also take a more solid form and slip through shadows on its own, typically taking a reptilian shape be it a hydra, dragon, or serpent. He will automatically shield Mirai from incoming attack that pose a threat, only reach speeds few times her own due to being energy related mass.

Mind Read

By laying a hand on her enemy she can read their mind so long as it isn’t trained, strengthened, or on guard. This also allows her to reach into their memories and look around. Mirai doesn’t delete memories, unsure what the consequences would be for removing the most important aspects of a person’s personality.

Curse

Once her opponent has been dosed in enough of her magic, Mirai can inflict a curse. Due to curses normally being broken by luck or sheer strength, Mirai only uses a voodoo doll curse. When doing so her opponent is tatted in black lines and will feel ever physical pain she feels except poison. This is the only curse she has that must be dispelled by another magic user. By offing herself while using Shedding she can inflict enemies with the rawest sensation of death. When Mirai technically dies the markings vanish too.

Summoning

Mirai can summon a familiar she’s contracted to or objects she’s tagged so long as they’re in range of her magic. This ability is most commonly used to draw weapons.

Cloning

Mirai can focus her energy to clone herself a few times over, up to 30 at max. If Mirai uses the power of a familiar she can freely clone herself up to 5000 times but those copies can only take a single hit unlike the 30 she can make herself, though those copies are notable weaker. Using a clone she can collect and maintain information for a longer period of time or put more of her power into a clone to misdirect danger. This ability is rarely used outside of war.

Self-destruct

By harnessing all her energy into a singular point, Mirai can destroy her body in a massive uproar of energy as a final gambit attack. She can use this ability with Cloning and Shedding to cause stack a massive amount of damage.

Shadow Tag

By landing a hit on her opponent with a sufficient amount of black or void magic, she can utilize their shadow for attacks for a limited amount of time. This is easiest when Hiei is destroyed and his magic fills the air.

Shadow Transportation

Upon successfully using Shadow Tag, Mirai can use her opponent’s shadow if not the shadows cast naturally to teleport or slip between dimensions. She can even drag herself across floors without budging an inch to conserve energy used dashing.

Shedding

By premeditating how much magic to conserve for substitution, Mirai can apply a trigger-like ability to activate whenever she dies to restore her physical condition to the point she premeditated substitution. This ability takes a lot of mental energy which is a key component of her magic. She normally appears cracking out a shell of her former self still dressed. She cannot replicate revive any magical items they were destroyed in the process.

Divination

Mirai can have dreams about the future and can actively take a peek into the future. However, most of the time Mirai finds these dreams pointless since the future will be changed the moment she acts, only making good for war. All magic users have this ability once they reach 5000 units of magic.

Illusion

With a single glance Mirai can cast an illusion on her opponent and trap them into their own mind. The visual stimuli of her illusions affects the body similarly so long as the foe doesn’t know they’ve been placed into an illusion. Other than trickery it’s good against unsuspecting enemies. Mirai can also create an Illusion World using this ability, but she must distort time and space first to take them away from the fight. In her Illusion World she makes the rules based off the memories of the targets to get her point across, typically using it to teach or punish otheers.

Levitation

Mirai can use her mind or magic to hoist objects and people into the air. This ability fails to work on stronger enemies and can only halt them momentarily at best.

Barrier

Mirai can use her magic or ki to create a barrier whether notable or not, such as layering her skin with it. Mirai can cage enemies into barriers to keep them locked for an ally to attack, if not detonate herself.

Time-space Coating

By storing space-time she naturally follows Mirai can coat herself in its essence to becoming metaphysical to the point she can still attack physically while intangible. Any attacks weaker than her own even if they’re metaphysical in nature cannot affect her, though if they’re physically comparable some strikes may affect her even while it’s active 25% of the time. Mirai personally likes to use this ability midway through a match to get the drop on an opponent.

Time-space Distortion & Repair

First an accident and now an ability she can utilize regularly. Mirai can open and close anomaly in the space-time continuum so long as she had enough power and the target is in sight. She can open them to make jumps in space-time to get around easier, but due to her magic it’s very dangerous to leave these distortions open any longer than a minute.

Mana Burst

By unionizing all of her magic with her ki, Mirai can temporarily access power several tens of times greater than herself, though her energy is strained when doing so. However, Mirai is no stranger to the concept of blending them in short bursts.

Super State

Also known as the Chaos State. The user’s power is amplified several tens normal. Mirai cannot be in her Super State while she is using her third reserve of magic as of yet, avoiding any chance she may erase herself on accident. Mirai has trained this form to be a bit stronger than normal, but doesn’t evolve to the same way others do. Due to her intense magic her hair takes a different color than most users of the state found in Universe 9.

Divinity

Mirai can tap into divine power thanks to her training under Fuu, giving her the same benefits as varied users like Suki, Damian, and Aile. During her time as a goddess she seems vastly calmer than usual, though that may be due to the strongest mortal not translating into the strongest goddess, thereby humbling her some. She isn’t seen using this power much once tapping into her third reserve of magic.

Nth Power

An ability Mirai developed due to her absurd count of magic units. Mirai channels her magic into herself then undergoes a type of transformation in conjunction with her Super State. In exchange for her sanity she can access incredible amounts of power, with each jump in power taking her to the next power, for example, her Super State is amplified 50 times over on the first jump, giving her an extraordinary lead in leveling. Mirai’s energy is strained when she goes above the 2nd Power.

Reserve 3

The first reserve of magic Mirai has is the magic she uses normally. The second reserve is evolved magic Mirai and people like her can use, vastly surpassing the first the closer they come to realizing their potential like the first. However the third reserve is magic that body naturally produces that cannot be accessed normally with greater magic than the first and second. Magic there is meant to replenish the user after a set amount of time passes whether they go into hibernation mode or not. When a witch’s third reserve of magic depletes to zero they are erased. Not even Mirai is sure she can use Shedding to get out of this one. While using this power, due to her third reserve’s original purpose and the magic jewel she inherited from her mother, Mirai’s magic is almost seen as limitless or endlessly growing against fighters of a similar level.

Transform

Through magic Mirai can take a civilian form to disguise herself on off days. She can also take the appearance of anybody she’s ever seen or imagines in her head without a change in her strength. By combining this technique with Cloning she can perform a distraction-type tactic usually involving flirtation of some sort.

Fusion

By locking lips, then synchronizing her breathing and energy wavelength with a partner Mirai can perform Fusion to create a warrior with a personality and strength far exceeding to sums of their parts. However, if she or her partner gives their life after a quick kiss of any kind, they’ll be fused forever with one being the body with joined spirits. Side effects vary.

#Rival Mirai #Composite Mirai #ooc #outofgata

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